Naegi hadn't known it was possible for a day to feel as long as that one did. He felt like he'd been blocked to a standstill on everything that mattered. He was waiting for Togami to be ready to talk to him – waiting for Alter Ego to finish processing the data Fujisaki had left for them – waiting to see if anything came of Kirigiri's warning about the mastermind's plan. Even spending time with the others didn't distract him.
"Do not move your arm that way," Ogami said, as she took Naegi through what she called a simple training exercise. "I explained to you in our last training session that you could damage your shoulder if you continue doing so."
"Oh – sorry." Naegi corrected his posture. "I guess I forgot."
"Hmm." Ogami frowned at him. "I do not mean to suggest that I am displeased to have company, but is there perhaps somewhere else you would rather be right now?"
Naegi couldn't stop his mind from flashing to Togami – but he'd promised himself he'd give the other boy time to cool off first. "No," he said. "No, I'll pay attention, really."
Ogami didn't look convinced, but she didn't make Naegi leave, either. To make up for his lapse in concentration, he threw himself even more fervently into her training than he had before. The resulting ache in his muscles was almost enough to make him forget all the worries circling around his head.
But when he returned to his room for the night, it all came rushing back. Naegi flopped down onto his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He'd really hoped that Togami would come and find him at some point during the day – he'd made a point of letting several people know he'd be in the gym with Ogami – but he hadn't seen so much as a glimpse of the heir.
Of course, now that nighttime was approaching, Naegi supposed that he would know where Togami would be for at least some part of the day. With the rule forbidding sleeping outside the dorms, Togami would have to return to his dorm room at some point during the night. Theoretically, Naegi could just wait for that, watching Togami's door for the moment he returned – but the thought smacked of stalking.
Besides, he didn't want to force Togami to talk to him. He wanted Togami to choose to talk to him, of his own free will.
But that didn't mean he had to keep waiting indefinitely, did it? He didn't want to compel, but he could ask.
Naegi got up and reached for the notebook beside his bed, pulling out a sheet of paper. He considered for a moment, then began writing.
"I'd like to talk to you. I know what happened earlier today was awful, but we don't have to let it change anything."
He paused and bit the edge of the pen, wondering if it would be overly pushy to add any of the other things he wanted to say. I missed you, I wanted to see you – that all sounded clingy. I hope you're okay, I've been worrying about you – that sounded patronizing and would just make Togami annoyed.
No, it was probably better to say the rest of it in person. Naegi sighed, scribbling his name across the bottom before folding the paper and slipping into the empty hallway.
He told himself that he didn't really expect an answer when he pushed Togami's doorbell, but he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed when the boy didn't answer. Knowing Togami's attitude towards the curfew, he probably wouldn't return to his room until much later at night. Well, it had been worth a try.
Naegi knelt and slid the letter under the door, where Togami wouldn't be able to miss it whenever he came back to his room. Hopefully it would be enough, and Togami wouldn't keep him waiting long.
His doorbell didn't sound at all during the night, but that was fine. Naegi had been sleeping – or at least trying to sleep – and it wouldn't have been the best moment for the conversation they needed to have. He wouldn't have minded if Togami had woken him up in the middle of the night just to see him, but it wasn't like Togami knew that. So it was fine.
It was less fine when Naegi looked at the empty space beside his door and realized that Togami hadn't even bothered to reply to his message.
Maybe silence was his answer. Maybe Togami was telling him that there was nothing to talk about.
Naegi tried not to let it show as he dragged himself into the cafeteria for their morning meeting, but the sympathetic looks everyone sent him said that he hadn't been very successful.
"Here, you look like you need this more than me." Asahina set one of her donuts in front of Naegi. "It's got a chocolate filling."
"Uh, thanks." Naegi couldn't quite bring himself to tell her that his stomach churned so much at the thought of Togami cutting all contact that he didn't think he could eat anything, let alone a sugar-laden pastry. He took a small bite as she watched, but it tasted more like sawdust than a treat. "It's great."
Asahina's face fell a little. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just shook her head and patted his shoulder, then retreated to sit with Ogami. The two girls bent their heads and whispered together, sending Naegi occasional sideways glances. He bent his head over a cup of tea and wished they wouldn't.
A rustle came from the seat across from him, and Naegi looked up to see Hagakure sitting there. "You know, I can do fortune telling sessions on a specific topics, if you want."
"Oh, yeah?" Naegi didn't think that sounded particularly appealing, but it would be rude to say so.
Hagakure nodded. "Relationships are a pretty popular topic, when people need advice. I could even give you an extra discount for heartbreak, if you want."
Naegi stared at him for a long moment. "I think I'm good."
Heartbreak, Hagakure had said. So they all thought that Togami had broken things off, too. They were all pitying him.
He got up and left the cafeteria, walking blindly across the hall towards the laundry room. Kirigiri looked up when he entered, her eyebrows coming together in a hint of a frown.
"I don't have time to talk to you right now," she told him. Of course she didn't – she needed to listen for Alter Ego's screams.
"That's okay," Naegi said. "Can I stay if I'm quiet?"
Kirigiri eyed him for a moment, and then her expression softened a little. "Of course."
Naegi sat beside her at the table and watched the laundry machines spin, trying not to think about anything. It didn't work very well.
What if it wasn't just Monokuma's humiliating show that was keeping Togami from talking to him? After all, it wasn't like they'd really discussed what was happening between them. Naegi had thought he'd felt the start of something real between them after that night, when Togami had admitted he trusted him and they'd slept in each other's arms – but maybe it hadn't been what he'd thought. Trust didn't mean they automatically had a relationship.
It was entirely possible that Togami had never intended to make this into something more serious than what they'd already had. He might have been upset not just because of the awful way Monokuma had outed them, but because he'd never wanted anyone else to know about it in the first place. He'd actually said that he didn't want Naegi to tell anyone, hadn't he? Maybe he'd planned to keep it as nothing more than a dirty secret.
Naegi thought he might be sick. He liked Togami, and he'd tried to show him that the second time they'd slept together. It was one thing to consider that first time nothing more than sex, but hadn't the other time meant more? Maybe he was the only one who had thought so.
He couldn't judge anymore – he didn't know what to believe. He needed an outside opinion.
"Do you think I've been kidding myself?"
Kirigiri looked up from where she'd been flipping through a magazine at the table. "What?"
"You know," Naegi said, waving a hand to encompass the whole situation. "With – everything."
"You mean your encounters with Togami." She grimaced. "I'm not an expert about these matters."
"I'm not asking you to be an expert," Naegi said. "I'm just asking – well – if you think I've been stupid."
"Forgetting about the security cameras wasn't terribly intelligent," Kirigiri said with a faint smile. "But I don't think that's what you meant." She sighed, tugging on her braid as she considered it. "As for the rest of it – well, you really need to talk to Togami about that. He's the only one who can give you a real answer. I can't, and neither can your thoughts."
"What if he doesn't want to talk to me?" Naegi didn't mean for the words to sound so plaintive.
"Then that will tell you something, too." Kirigiri sighed. "Naegi, I understand that you're unhappy right now, but please try to remember that I'm in here for a reason. You did say you would be quiet."
"Oh – right. You're right." Naegi shook his head and stood up. "Sorry, I'll go."
She nodded. "I think that would be best."
Naegi left the laundry room, but he couldn't quite face the thought of going and talking to one of his other friends for the rest of the day – not when whoever he picked wouldn't be the person he really wanted to spend time with. He headed back to his room and let himself fall backwards onto the bed.
He would have sworn that he'd spend the whole time staring at the ceiling and moping, but apparently his body had other ideas. Naegi only realized he'd fallen asleep when a strange sound near his door jolted him awake. What could that have been? It had sounded almost like rustling.
Naegi dragged himself off the bed to go look – and he saw a folded note that had been shoved under his door.
All of his energy returned in an instant as he dove for it and shook it open.
"I'm willing to talk if you are. I'll be in my room."
And there was Togami's signature, dark and clear on the paper. Naegi didn't even mind that the note itself was terse and unromantic – the fact that it was here at all spoke volumes.
He didn't hesitate. Seconds after finishing the letter, Naegi was out his door and pressing the doorbell to Togami's room.
