Togami could hardly believe the thought even as it occurred to him – Naegi, of all people, being condemned as a killer? It was absurd. Naegi had spoken against the killings from the first, insisting that there had to be another option even before they'd had any hints as to what that might mean. Togami had thought at first that it was blind idealism, pathetic naiveté that would either crumble to dust when the boy was put to the test or doom him to an ignominious death – but it hadn't been. Naegi had stayed strong in all the ways that mattered, trying to convince the rest of them to believe in one another and not give in to the mastermind's schemes. Togami couldn't believe that the boy had ever so much as considered murdering anyone.
Which made the idea that Naegi could be responsible for Ogami's hypothetical suicide all the more sickening. Togami didn't know exactly what Naegi had said when he'd found his friend apparently grieving alone in a dark room – but it would have been full of more sympathy and distress than Ogami deserved. It might not have helped, since Ogami seemed determined to wallow in the darkness, but it couldn't have hurt. Naegi would never deliberately say anything cruel –
Or was that right? Togami's mind flashed back to the memory of Naegi sitting inches away in bed, insisting that he didn't want what Togami was trying to offer – or glaring at him from outside the ruined classroom, accusing Togami of not truly caring for him.
The memories still burned with painful rejection, but Togami did his best to push aside the hollow ache. He didn't know what Naegi had meant by that, not really, and he couldn't let himself be overcome by his potentially faulty recollection of the conversations until he'd figured out exactly what had happened.
But whatever Naegi had meant by the words, they were certainly proof that even the nicest boy in the school could be cruel. It didn't matter if he hadn't meant the words to be unkind – an inadvertent wound didn't hurt any less than one than had been deliberately caused.
So maybe it was possible, after all, that Naegi might have said something to Ogami that might have sent her closer to suicide, however kindly he'd meant it. Even if it wasn't true, even if the real cause had been Ogami's guilt over betraying the students and her role in Asahina's death – well, the mastermind was the one who made the final determination of who the true culprit was.
It would be difficult to claim that Naegi really had driven Ogami to suicide – but Togami didn't even want to hear someone try to make that case during a trial. The trial arguments were stressful enough, with everyone screaming idiocies at one another and making stupid arguments that didn't even deserve to be taken seriously. But if Naegi were the one under fire – if there was a real threat that he might be the one dragged off in chains –
Togami shook his head, blinking away visions of Naegi's pale, terrified face staring back at him through the thick glass of the execution chamber windows. It was ridiculous to worry over something that couldn't happen – Ogami wasn't even dead, so any speculation about a trial for her was sheer nonsense.
He narrowed his eyes at her, sitting on the ground in front of him. For all the raw grief written across her face, there was still an aura of a fighter lingering around her – one that was sizing up the opponent standing across from her in a fighting ring.
"Why are you telling me this?" Togami demanded, running through the possibilities in his head as he scrutinized her. She might just be rambling at him because he happened to be standing there – but he was starting to suspect that she had some other reason.
Ogami shrugged. "I assumed you knew. Either Naegi or Kirigiri could have told you about it."
"This is the first I've heard of it," Togami said, a touch of resentment flickering through him. Every time he thought that he knew everything that Kirigiri and Naegi did when they went off together, it seemed like there was some new plot for him to hear about. Though now that he thought about it, that did assume that Ogami's claims were genuine. "In fact, for all I know, you've invented the entire thing."
Ogami looked at him for a long moment, until Togami was starting to wonder if she'd slipped back into the silent slump of depression that had gripped her when he'd first entered her room – but then her mouth twisted in an unsettling mockery of a smile. "Before he left me here, he tried to apologize for Kirigiri – and he said he was glad that I'm not dead." She closed her eyes, tilting her head back against the wall like she was baring her throat for him to slash.
Togami had to admit, that did sound like what Naegi would say in that situation – and like it was the same brand of unintentional cruelty the boy had inflicted on him. Telling a suicidal girl that he was glad she was still alive, when he'd apparently been used as the leverage to prevent her death? Togami wasn't surprised in the slightest that it had ended with Ogami sinking deeper into her own misery. Left to fester in her own despair long enough, she might even have decided to ignore the possibility of how the mastermind would use her death. And if she had…
"I think I agree with him," Togami said, giving the girl a considering frown. "Even apart from Kirigiri's stupid claims, it's better for you to stay alive."
Her eyes opened again, slowly, and Togami had the rather uncomfortable feeling of a laser sighting on him. "I thought you wanted me out of the picture."
"It's true that your death would tie up the loose end of having the mastermind's spy hanging around," he said, crossing his arms. "But it would also leave us with an even bigger problem."
Ogami frowned. "What are you talking about?"
He rolled his eyes. "Am I the only one left who's bothered to do the math? If you die, there would only be four students left – which would be a very dangerous situation for the rest of us. With only four surviving students, a killer wouldn't even have to be sneaky anymore."
"But there would still be too many people for a killer to deal with outside of the trials," Ogami said, confused. "It would be dangerous if there were only three people left – but four would be safe. There are only two murders allowed per person."
"Yes – and as long as someone managed both kills before the next trial, they'd win by default," Togami said. "For a verdict to count, a majority of students have to agree – and with a two-person trial, that would be impossible. The killer would never vote for themselves, so it wouldn't matter that the other person would know they were guilty – they'd win anyway." He shook his head. "One more death is all it would take for that to become a possibility."
