Naegi knew that Kirigiri's declaration only confirmed what had been inevitable all along – of course they would work with this Mukuro Ikusaba against the mastermind. If they wanted to keep moving towards any chance of escape, what other choice did they have?

"All right," Naegi said, squarely meeting Kirigiri's eyes. "If we're going to work with Ikusaba, then what does she want us to do?"

Kirigiri looked at him for a long moment, as if evaluating his response, then nodded to herself. "Ikusaba has access to quite a few of the locked areas in the school, but due to her role as the mastermind's operative, she hasn't been able to explore them as thoroughly as she would have liked. Leaving her post repeatedly would draw the mastermind's attention to her actions, especially if she couldn't provide them with an adequate explanation. But she suspects that at least one of these locked areas has some kind of leverage that we could use against the mastermind."

"Leverage? What, like blackmail or something?" Naegi asked, frowning.

"Presumably," Kirigiri said. "She seemed to have something specific in mind, but she didn't tell me what it was." Her mouth quirked up in a strange smile. "She wasn't willing to trust me entirely either, it seems."

"So we're supposed to hunt around for information she already has?" Naegi demanded indignantly. "She could just tell us!"

"But without hard evidence, we'd only have her word on the matter – and we can't use that against the mastermind," Kirigiri said. "In any case, investigating without someone else's guidance is actually my preferred approach. When searching for clues, it's better to go in with as few preconceived notions as possible. That way, we'll know our conclusions are our own."

Naegi grimaced. He wouldn't mind just being handed the right answer so that they could put this mess behind them as soon as possible – but he supposed he saw Kirigiri's point. If Ikusaba just told them everything they'd need to know, it would be ridiculously easy for her to manipulate them into believing whatever she pleased. But that didn't make it any less frustrating.

"So she didn't even give you a hint about what we'd be looking for?" Naegi asked. "What if we don't recognize it when we see it?"

Kirigiri shrugged. "We'll just have to make sure we pay attention. But if it's something that could be used against the mastermind, it should be difficult to miss."

"I guess." Naegi frowned, another thought occurring to him. "But – wait. Wait. If Ikusaba has been working with the mastermind right from the start – then she'd know who they are!"

"She does," Kirigiri confirmed. "Or at least, she claims that she does."

Naegi stared at her, not quite daring to believe it. For weeks, they'd been trapped and forced to murder one another without knowing the real reason they'd been put in this situation. He'd wondered time and again about the kind of person who could have been behind this horrible game. Were they finally going to get an answer?

"Well?" he prompted, when Kirigiri didn't go on. "What did she say?"

But Kirigiri shook her head. "She didn't tell me – not yet. She said that she didn't dare – that naming the mastermind now would put her in too much danger."

"How would it put her in more danger than what she already told you?" Naegi asked, puzzled.

"I can think of several reasons," Kirigiri said. "And the possibility that this is all a trick is still one of the most likely. But if it isn't – well, I suppose we'll find out. She's promised that she'll tell me, once I've proven myself."

"Proven?" Naegi echoed, not liking the sound of that at all. "Proven how?"

"By starting to investigate the locked areas of the school," Kirigiri said. "Once I start going out of bounds like that, I'll be committed to the investigation. If the mastermind were to find out, they would see me as a real threat to their plans."

"But what if they retaliate?" Naegi asked. "We'd be breaking the rules –"

"Technically, none of the rules would be broken," Kirigiri said, shaking her head. "It says right in the school regulations that we're free to explore and try to solve the mystery with minimal restrictions – so any action that doesn't break another rule should be allowed."

"But it would break a rule!" The memory of Asahina burned before Naegi's eyes. "You said those areas of the school are locked – and Asahina got punished for breaking the lock on Ogami's door even though she wasn't the one who actually did it."

"Yes, but the point there was that the lock was broken," Kirigiri said. "I won't need to break anything. Ikusaba has a key for these areas."

Naegi frowned. Using a key wouldn't violate the rule about broken doors – but there was still something about this that he didn't like. "But what happens if the mastermind finds out about this and decides to punish us anyway?"

"Then we'll have learned something valuable," Kirigiri said. "In a moment of crisis, will the mastermind keep to their own rules or adhere to them no matter what? Their response to a genuine threat could be enlightening as to their real goal."

Naegi stared at Kirigiri, seeing nothing but calm determination written across her face as she spoke about the mastermind's possible retaliation against her. Didn't she understand what might happen if she'd guessed wrong about what the mastermind might do? "But what if –"

"If you spend all your time trying to avoid danger, you'll never move forward," Kirigiri interrupted, looking him straight in the eye. "If the risk means solving the mystery, we have no choice."

Kirigiri's words hit Naegi like a physical blow, a painful echo of another argument he'd had mere hours ago.

Even if I have to take some risks to fight against the mastermind, I refuse to watch my friends lose hope and die!

His own words echoed in his head, and for the first time, Naegi truly understood what it felt like to hear that sentiment out loud. Solving the mastermind's mysteries mattered to Kirigiri – so much that she would rather take the risk of dying than continue in this twisted limbo. It was so easy to see how this could destroy her – but that wasn't enough to make her turn aside. A helpless fear seeped through Naegi's veins, clenching his hands into useless fists as he thought about everything he couldn't do.

Was this how Togami had felt this morning, when Naegi had told him the same thing? Had he been overcome with the dread that Naegi was feeling now?

No, Naegi knew it wouldn't have been like this for Togami – it would have been worse. Kirigiri was his friend, and he did care about her – but not the way Togami had cared for him. The heir had made no secret of the fact that he valued Naegi's wellbeing very highly – and Naegi hadn't taken that into account at all when he'd told Togami about the risks he'd taken. And just like Naegi knew he couldn't stop Kirigiri from acting on her decision, Togami would have felt powerless to stop the pain being inflicted on him.

Maybe he owed Togami an apology. Not the desperate babbling he'd offered at first, when he hadn't fully grasped what had gone wrong, or the angry justifications of his actions that had only made things worse – but an apology for not understanding how his words and actions would affect someone who cared for him.

Naegi shook his head sharply, pushing those thoughts away. He'd consider what he ought to say to Togami later on. For now, Kirigiri needed him to focus on helping her.

"I think you're right," he said at last. "We need to take this risk."