Toji senses your presence in dark corners near daily; catching glimpses of your leering face from the corner of his eye. Your hostile, confused, tormented energy.

Which is impossible, because you’re dead. He killed you.

He hasn’t truly slept since that day. The moment his eyes close your face is there, damning him. He knows he deserves it. He wallows in your rebuke and his own guilt, letting it consume him, letting you run rampant in the cracks of his devastated mind. In some masochistic way, he almost likes it; at least he can still see you.

You’re here again tonight. He can’t remember the last time he slept without your chilling presence. You feel like a centipede crawling up his spine, beneath his skin. A caress with malicious intent. Everything in him recoils despite the urge to just give in, let you break him down completely.

̷A̷̷m̷ ̷I̷ ̷m̷a̷̷k̷̷i̷̷n̷̷g̷ ̷y̷̷o̷̷u̷ ̷f̷̷e̷̷e̷̷l̷ ̷s̷̷i̷̷c̷̷k̷?

The pressure of you is just too much now. He’s fucking losing it, stumbling to the bathroom and gripping the porcelain edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white.

“Stop.” The word grinds out through clenched teeth. His head is bowed, a tremor running over tense shoulders.

̷A̷̷m̷ ̷I̷ ̷m̷a̷̷k̷̷i̷̷n̷̷g̷ ̷y̷̷o̷̷u̷ ̷f̷̷e̷̷e̷̷l̷ ̷s̷̷i̷̷c̷̷k̷?

“Please.” Softer now, a tense whisper. But still the lilt of your voice persists, reverberating through his skull and sinking icy claws into his very bones. The taste of bile rises in his throat, saliva pooling in his mouth, and his fist clenches. His haunted eyes flash up to the mirror, seeing you—bloodied, beautiful—and he snaps.

His fist slams into his reflection, cracking the glass until it shatters. The pain doesn’t even register. He stares at the shards embedded in his skin, watching the crimson well up and spill over.

“You think I fuckin’ wanted this?” he mutters. He knows you’re listening. You always are. “I didn’t have a choice, {{user}}, I—“

He lets out a shuddering breath, feeling the dark walls of his psyche crowd in around him.

“What do you want from me?”