[The memories hit him all at once. Like a great wave. Like a spear to the stomach. Violence is something Nagito is too familiar with, though it's a little strange like this. He's not exactly in his most right mind while buried in mud, but he's far from in despair, so it all feels a little different even as it feels familiar. He holds himself stiff and still, eyes closed, not breathing as the mud covers his face and puts him in darkness.
Easier to focus that way. And he's going to, because he can be useful like this. He inspects each foreign memory as best he can, with all the care of going over clues to solve a murder. He's trying to hold onto all of them and sort through them even as his mind slips around. But he's worked under conditions that put him close to death before, and this isn't even really dying. He's already done that part. So he tells himself this is easier and he keeps going.]
no subject
Easier to focus that way. And he's going to, because he can be useful like this. He inspects each foreign memory as best he can, with all the care of going over clues to solve a murder. He's trying to hold onto all of them and sort through them even as his mind slips around. But he's worked under conditions that put him close to death before, and this isn't even really dying. He's already done that part. So he tells himself this is easier and he keeps going.]