(A/N):
Final part yay!

!Warning!
!Mention of suicide!
!D E A TH!
___
It's been days.

Mask had been holed up in his apartment. Living off of old ramen packets and tap water. He hadn't seen the sun in days. His team came by a few times, but eventually they realized they'd get no answer. Just broken coughs.

The S4 had stopped by, Mask trying to put more distance between him and the front door until he was practically hanging off of his balcony. The fruity voice always made his head hurt and his stomach lurch. Eventually they stopped coming too.

He was sitting on his sofa, staring at the black case under the desk of his monitor. It was mocking him.

use me.

He didn't want to.

Sure, giving up on trying to stop the petals was one thing, but giving up entirely was another.

you're on borrowed time anyways.

Mask got up and moved to his room. It was true. He was on borrowed time.

It was supposed to happen summer of XX15. He was only ten, and well... he was just tired. Tired. An easier way to put it.

He hadn't necessarily thought about how he would do it besides the pills that were on his desk.

Then, his parents told him something. He was getting a baby sister. He couldn't do it now. It'd be stupid.

And he didn't.

Now here he was. Going through life without a plan. He stared at the ceiling, looking at the glow stars. His eyes landed on the pink one, causing a coughing fit to erupt from him.

He grabbed the trash, emptying the petals from him until they stopped. He opened his phone to his notes, not bothering with the tens to hundreds of unopened texts.

His breath hitched.

Where was it?

Where are they?

"No no no no no..."

His journals. What happened to them?

'We are sorry for the inconvenience, but you hadn't accessed your notes in the time frame you were allowed to keep them. Notes permanently delete after the time frame.'

He chuckled. His chuckles turned to laughs. His laughs turned to sobs.

Everything was gone.

He could never confess now. No evidence to back up whatever he would say. Nothing to help explain himself.

Stupid memories.

Stupid Mask.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Mask started coughing again. He didn't bother with getting the trash can. He coughed and coughed.

He waited for it to stop, but all he got was fully fledged blooms with stems. He couldn't breathe.

Mask started to panic. Not understanding why they haven't stopped. It was usually over by now.

"I'm afraid next time this happens we won't be able to save you."

Ah- right. He steadied himself. He might as well accept it. Just like his journals, he was going to be permanently deleted. All because he didn't stick to the time frame.

He laid down, suffocating on the flowers. It only took a second.

He was one with the stars now. Just liked he planned to be all those years ago.
___
(A/N):
Mask! Mask! Oh my fuckin god he fuckin dead-

It was very convenient timing that when I was in the worse part of the big sad my family was like "yeah we bought a gun and are going to put it right in the open!" and I was just like "so... we're just gonna let me have access to this... alrighty then" but suffering through everything was worth it! No I do not mean the gun I mean- u g h-

Words:
Total of 1,382 for both parts