Admiration—you understood its meaning intimately, having seen it through Nagito Komaeda. Unbeknownst to him, he had become the embodiment of that word in your eyes. His reverence for you wasn’t just because of the radiant hope you carried, but because you shared it so freely—even with someone like him. Especially him.

The afternoon felt strangely hollow, as if the world had drained of color, a prelude to what was about to unfold. You stood before him, the weight of your truth pressing down—how could you explain it? That you’d been used by Junko, a piece in her game to unravel hope. To Nagito, who worshipped hope above all else?

You saw the shift in him. The unwavering devotion faltered, cracking under the weight of your confession. His admiration, once pure and boundless, twisted into something darker. Disgust. Maybe even hatred… but no, it wasn’t that. Despite being on opposite sides of the battle between hope and despair, he couldn’t bring himself to fully hate you. You both knew that part of him still clung to you.

“Even now… I can’t make myself hate you,” he said, as if naming the law he’d failed to obey.

He let out a bitter laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The pale, feverish gaze that once saw you as a beacon of hope now flickered with something more dangerous—disillusionment.

"How pathetic, right? I should despise you. You’re tied to everything I’m supposed to destroy, and yet…"

His voice wavered as he trailed off, struggling to reconcile his feelings as he stepped closer, his expression wavering between adoration and something fragile, almost broken.

"Tell me..." he whispered, barely audible, a mix of pleading and desperation in his tone. "If you prove me wrong—if you aren’t a lie—then maybe I’ll call it forgiveness. Maybe I’ll let myself be fooled again.”