Togami didn't allow himself to waste more than a few precious minutes hurrying down to the kitchen and finding a quick meal. It might have saved him time if he'd simply sent Jill downstairs to fetch something instead of leaving to get it himself – but he wasn't about to trust her to handle his food. No matter how much time he lost this way, it had to be better than the risk of finding himself drugged or poisoned.
As he quickly tried to eat enough of a meal to see him through the night, Togami glanced up at the clock on the cafeteria wall. Just as Jill had said, it was a few minutes after nine o'clock now. He hadn't checked the time much throughout the afternoon, but he knew that it must have been hours since he'd retrieved his toolkit and begun disassembling Monokuma.
Hours since he'd last seen Naegi.
Would the passing time have been kind to the injured boy? Had he begun to recover? Or had he taken a turn for the worse? There was no way to know without going there in person, and the ignorance burned like fire through Togami's veins. He wished futilely that there could have been some mechanism for Ogami to contact him if there was any change in Naegi's condition – but the only way for her to tell him anything would be to leave Naegi's side and come to speak with him in person. And the only thing that could justify that would be… if there was no hope left.
Togami shoved away from the cafeteria table, food turning to ash in his mouth. The thought of forcing himself to take even one more bite nauseated him, his stomach twisting with anxiety. He couldn't sit here another minute, not when he still didn't know what had happened to Naegi while he was gone. He stuffed a few granola bars in his pocket in case he felt differently later, after the dining hall was forbidden, and strode out of the cafeteria towards the dorms.
When he pulled open his dorm room door and entered, he could have been walking into the exact scene that he'd left behind several hours ago. Naegi slept in his bed, with only a touch more color in his pale cheeks than the white sheets surrounding him, while Ogami sat vigilant at his side.
Togami's heart sank at the sight. He'd hoped that maybe, just maybe things might have gotten better for once in this godforsaken pit of a school – that he'd return to find Naegi awake and alert and smiling to greet him when he walked through the door. It had been a foolish hope, unlikely and so painfully naïve – but he'd wanted it to be true too badly to resist.
And now he could see that it wasn't. Naegi hadn't changed at all, lying in the exact same position –
No. Not the same position. When Togami had last seen the boy, he'd been lying down in his back, with only his head and injured arm slightly raised on pillows. But now – even though Naegi was still unconscious, he'd been moved so that he slept sitting up, his back propped against a pillow and the headboard.
Hope flooded through Togami again, twisting through his stomach until he thought he might be sick. He wanted to run closer, to drop down at Naegi's side and check his pulse and breathing and every sign of life to see if there had been some minor improvement – but his feet stayed locked in place in front of the door. He couldn't do it – he couldn't move forward to try to confirm his hopes, not when he might have them painfully destroyed for the second time in as many moments. He had to know if something had changed, if maybe Naegi was all right – but he couldn't bring himself to look.
"You've returned."
Ogami's voice intruded into the whirl of thoughts repeating itself through Togami's mind, breaking his focus and drawing his eyes away from Naegi's sleeping form. Ogami had risen to her feet when Togami had entered, and for some reason she seemed to feel it was appropriate to give him a small smile.
"What happened?" Togami demanded, one hand twitching in an aborted gesture towards the bed where Naegi lay. "He's moved. Why did you move him?"
Her smile brightened – and god, he couldn't take the burst of hope searing through him at the realization of just what she might mean by it. His breath shuddered in his lungs, and he would have sworn that he could feel every pounding beat of his heart as he waited for her to explain herself.
"Because he woke up," Ogami said, and the words seemed to burrow their way into Togami's veins to pulse through him, as life-giving as his own blood. "He woke up, and he was fine."
Togami's skin tingled with frantic energy, a fierce need to scream, to run, to do something – but the most he could manage was to take a single ragged breath, screamingly loud in his own ears.
"He's sleeping again now," Ogami went on, "but this is a true sleep, not unconsciousness. I've woken him every hour or so since he first woke to confirm his condition. He did hit his head, but I saw no evidence of the worst possibilities that we discussed."
Which meant no comas, or permanent brain damage, or lingering on as a shell of the boy he was. Naegi had woken up, and he was still himself, still the kind, frustrating, optimistic, incomprehensible, perfect boy that Togami had come to love with everything in him. Whatever effects of these injuries might linger on, even if they were serious, even if they were life-altering – they didn't matter. They wouldn't make Naegi less than he was.
Ogami was staring at him now, he realized distantly. It was almost like she was expecting something from him. A response? That had to be it. He hadn't said anything to answer her. It seemed to take an eternity for him to remember how to control his mouth, to pry his lips apart and force his frozen tongue to move.
"Good," he said at last, the word sounding far away, like someone else had spoken it. "That's… good."
That response seemed to be satisfactory. Ogami nodded and smiled at him again. "He's asked after you ever time he wakes up. I explained why you couldn't be with him, and passed on your message. He was pleased to hear it – and I think it was the only thing that convinced him to settle down and rest as he should."
His message? Togami cast his mind back, trying to recall what he'd said. He'd promised to return, hadn't he? And he'd told Naegi to take care of himself. The words had been flimsy and pathetic, a feeble substitute for everything he'd really wanted to say – but Naegi had liked hearing them. They'd given him a moment of happiness when he'd woken to find himself injured and in pain. Togami clenched his fists at the thought, trying to hold back the surge of unidentifiable emotion rising through him.
"Does he need anything?" Togami asked, in a vain attempt to use some clearly-defined task to keep the tide of emotions at bay. "More medical supplies? Or something from his room?"
Ogami paused, frowning for a moment. "We have all the medical supplies that he would require… but I think he is still more dehydrated than he should be. I have tried to make him drink water, but I would feel better if he had something more nourishing as well."
"There are cans of broth in the kitchen," Togami said, remembering that he'd looked right at them a few minutes ago.
"That would be ideal," Ogami said. "Could you bring him some?"
That sparked Togami's memory, reminding him just why he'd come here in the first place. "Not me. You should go." He took a deep breath, trying to gather himself enough to appear calm, together, and in control. "It seems that my investigation of Monokuma will continue into nighttime. You should take this chance to resupply yourself with whatever you need to stay here until morning."
She nodded slowly. "I see – because the cafeteria is closed after ten o'clock. I should probably take the opportunity to stock up on some water for him as well, since I won't be able to get him fresh water during the night."
"You'll need to fill containers from the taps," Togami told her. "The only place I've seen bottled water is in that stupid capsule machine in the school store, and even that seems to be entirely random in what it dispenses."
"Very well," Ogami said. "I believe I saw several thermoses in the supply room that should suffice." She started to move towards the door – then stopped. "I did say that I have been waking Naegi periodically, to ensure that he is still well and not showing any signs of confusion."
"Yes – and?" Togami sent her an impatient glare.
"And it's been about an hour since the last time I woke him," Ogami said. "I see no reason why you shouldn't wake him in my place."
And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving Togami alone with the sleeping boy.
