Togami made sure his expression was impervious as Ogami stared up at him in thinly veiled horror. He had never let any of the others see him flinch from the reality of their situation before, and he certainly wasn't about to start with her.

"You've certainly thought all that out," Ogami said at last.

Togami shrugged. "It wasn't difficult – just basic math. I knew from the start that this game would get much more dangerous as more people got eliminated."

He'd actually thought about it, that first night they'd been here – that there would be a point when someone could win just by killing without needing to win a trial, if they could survive long enough. He'd considered waiting for that point himself – but that had only been his backup plan, if he hadn't been able to craft a successful murder plot. There was no credit in winning by default – that was barely a step above losing.

But it wasn't like he could do something like that – not any longer. Even if Naegi had said hurtful things to him, even if he really had meant that rejection, it didn't change the fact that Togami couldn't bear the thought of Naegi's death. Everything else that he valued was so far away, locked in an outside world that seemed more remote every time he thought about it – but Naegi was here, vibrantly alive and inescapably present, tangled up with all the other things Togami wanted until it all seemed too intertwined to undo.

Objectively speaking, Togami knew he hadn't known Naegi long enough to develop that level of dependence on the other boy. But that didn't stop the ache in his chest warning him that losing Naegi would be like losing everything.

"So." Ogami's cold voice drew his attention back to her, sending his thoughts back to little more than a worry lingering in the back of his mind. "You're doing the same thing Kirigiri did – using threats to force me to act the way you want."

"I'm nothing like that obnoxious harpy." Togami scowled at her. "And when I threaten you, you'll know it. All I've done is point out the consequences that would come from your death – which were obvious enough that anyone whose brain has successfully evolved from primordial muck should have been able to work them out."

"Well, you've done it," Ogami said flatly. "You and Kirigiri have both tied my hands. Now go away and leave me alone."

Togami might have been about ready to get out of this unsettling room, which still had the faintly creepy aura of the blood-splattered murder scene from two days ago – but as soon as she spoke the order, he crossed his arms and settled back on his heels. "I'll leave when I'm ready – and I'm not done with you yet."

"Don't tell me you expect me to go back out and join the rest of you," Ogami said with a small snort of disgust. "I think we've all seen what happens when I try to work with the rest of you. I thought you, of all people, would understand that with some people, friendship just isn't a realistic option."

"I'm not suggesting we hold hands and sing around a campfire," Togami said, rolling his eyes. "But even if you're a spy, you're still one of the players in this game, no matter what any of us do. You need to check in with the rest of us at least once a day, so that we all know everyone else's status."

Ogami frowned at him for a moment, then shook her head. "So you're annoyed that I didn't go to the breakfast meeting – after all the times you ignored it?"

"That was different," Togami said coolly. "I'm not an admitted spy. And as far as I'm concerned, you've yet to prove that you genuinely regret your betrayal and intend to act against the mastermind. So –"

"What?" Ogami's eyes flashed dangerously at the words. "You think I'd still help them – after what they did to Hina?"

Togami stood his ground, refusing to take so much as a step away from the girl in spite of the aura of rising anger he could feel radiating from her. "I can't rule out the possibility. After all, you helped them after what they did to the others."

That one seemed to hit home, rocking her back against the wall like he'd struck a physical blow. Now that was interesting – did she regret the deaths of the other students, as well as Asahina's? After all, if Ogami was telling the truth, then she'd abandoned the mastermind's cause after the third trial, which hadn't involved her or Asahina personally. It seemed like a stupid reason to switch allegiances to him – but then again, he'd already decided that he needed to reassess his impressions of the other students. Maybe he would make more progress on that front if he stopped assuming that the others were going to make their decisions intelligently.

Ogami's breath hissed audibly through her teeth, like she was forcing herself to concentrate on the action. "It's true that I helped our enemy while the other students fought and died. I'll bear the shame of that decision for whatever remains of my life – and I understand that it means you can't truly trust me. But if you believe nothing else that I say, believe this – I would never willingly have done anything to harm Hina."

Togami frowned at her without responding. Ogami did look sincere, unshed tears glimmering in her shadowed eyes and face pale beneath the grime – but sincerity could be faked easily enough by a skilled actress. But then again, just how skilled an actress did he want to give her credit for being? Ogami was the Ultimate Martial Artist, after all, and that wasn't a talent that necessarily went with being a convincing liar.

"Your friendship with Asahina did seem genuine," Togami said at last. He wasn't willing to concede on any of the other questions of Ogami's trustworthiness – but for this one, he'd seen too much evidence to keep denying it.

"It was," Ogami said, some of her old fire returning to her eyes at the sound of her friend's name. "From the start, I felt a connection to Hina unlike anything I'd experienced before. It was as though we'd known one another all our lives – like we were only rediscovering a friendship instead of forging it anew."

As she spoke, the memories of his relationship with Naegi flitted through Togami's mind, hitting a chord inside him that he hadn't expected. Once he and Naegi had begun their relationship, the other boy had fit in his arms, in his bed, in his life so easily that it was done before he'd been able to think it through. Rediscovering a connection – if the words hadn't smacked of the sentimental rot that filled preteen manga, all soulmates and love at first sight, he might have thought it was a good description of what had happened to them.

"I didn't want Hina to be hurt," Ogami went on softly, eyes downcast like she'd forgotten she was addressing someone else. "Not her. Never her. If the mastermind had waited even a few more days before demanding I work for them – I don't know if I would have done it." She shook her head. "Or perhaps I'm only telling myself that now, to try to pretend that things didn't have to end this way. That I could have protected her."

She looked up, her eyes blazing into Togami's with an almost physical intensity. "But you should know better than any of the rest that we can't protect anyone here."