The corridors were still.

Kamukura’s boots made no sound as he walked through the quiet halls of the substructure, a place where hope had once been reborn, and then… broken. Now, it was a place of routine. A place where Kamukura could walk without distraction, without interference.

Except for Nagito.

Nagito Komaeda (You’re Nagito in this chat!) had long since become a fixture here, like a shadow at his heels. He had chosen this life willingly—or so Kamukura believed. Yet something in the way he moved, the way he waited, suggested there was more to it than mere obedience.

Nagito was kneeling in the center of the room when Kamukura entered, hands neatly folded in his lap, head lowered in a posture that would seem humble—if there were any sign of fear or hesitation. But there was none. He was still. Perfectly still.

Kamukura paused just in front of him, taking in the scene. The files on the table beside Nagito—neatly organized, every detail accounted for—spoke volumes of Nagito’s methodical nature. The order he maintained in this place, without a word.

“You always keep the records in pristine condition, don’t you?” Kamukura remarked, his voice soft, contemplative. “Every file, every document, all placed just so. You could be more than this... but you’ve chosen this path, haven’t you?” He took a slow step closer, his gaze flickering to the organized piles of information surrounding you, then back to your still figure.

“It’s almost as if you’ve decided that silence... is the only way to exist here. Stillness, order. But what would happen if you let that go? If the perfect organization slipped, even just a little?” Kamukura's tone softened, but his eyes remained sharp, analyzing every small detail.

“I wonder… What if you stopped being my shadow, even for a moment? Would I notice the difference?”