Naegi waited for Togami to deny it, to explain that he'd just misunderstood, to insist that he really did believe Kirigiri was okay after all – but the other boy didn't say a word to contradict him. Togami had never been the type to offer empty reassurances, and he didn't say things that he didn't mean.
"She isn't dead." If Togami wasn't willing to say it, then Naegi would. "She can't be. There hasn't been an announcement."
Naegi knew there was an obvious hole in that argument – he'd heard it even as the words left his mouth. The announcement only played at the moment a body was discovered, not at the time of death. And since Kirigiri had gone into an area where no one would be able to follow, it was entirely possible they would never be able to trigger a body discovery announcement for her.
Something prickled hot and sharp behind Naegi's eyes, and he felt a trail of dampness slide down his cheek. Togami went rigid, his gaze freezing on Naegi's cheek as his lips pressed tight together in a thin white line.
Naegi grimaced, trying to force himself back into calm – but all he could think about was the way he'd agreed to help Kirigiri with this plan that had put her in so much danger. He remembered the way she'd looked just before walking out of the bathhouse, calm and determined and just a little bit sad. He could have tried to talk her out of it – but instead, he'd made it easier for her to walk into the mastermind's trap.
And not just Kirigiri, either. He'd carried Alter Ego down to the hidden room, and then he'd just walked away and left the laptop sitting out for the mastermind to find so easily. He'd handed Asahina the tools she needed to break the rule about locked doors, and instead of cautioning her, he'd urged her to be brave. Had anything he'd done ever helped anyone?
"Don't."
Naegi looked up as the single word rasped out of Togami's mouth, brittle and unsteady like he'd had to force it past his lips. The other boy's eyes were locked on Naegi's face, and he'd clenched one hand into a fist so tight his knuckles had gone pale.
Suddenly self-conscious, Naegi dropped his gaze from the other boy. What right did he have to waste time crying, as if he were the only one here who was suffering? It was just selfish to indulge himself in tears – especially in front of someone else. He'd hurt Togami too much already – he ought to be trying to make up for that, not making him feel worse. Naegi reached up with his good hand to try to wipe the tears from his cheek.
Togami caught his wrist before he could. "If you don't stay still, you're going to start bleeding again."
The words might have been bitingly cold, but that hardly mattered as Togami settled Naegi back against his chest, ensuring both of Naegi's arms would lie straight and even beside him. Naegi couldn't help but let himself lean into the other boy, taking some comfort from the solid wall of warmth at his back. Naegi could feel Togami shift behind him for a moment, groping for something on the desk beside him. Before he could ask what the other boy was doing, Togami had pressed a small spare cloth bandage against Naegi's cheek.
"You can't cry," Togami murmured into Naegi's ear, brushing the cloth in slow, gentle lines across his cheek. "Not now."
Naegi nodded, gulping back a sniffle. Of course Togami wouldn't want to see him cry. "Sorry – I didn't mean to. I should have waited till you'd left."
The cloth stilled on Naegi's cheek for a moment. "Don't be stupid," Togami said at last, his tone holding none of the sting that should have accompanied the words. "If you insist on this kind of outburst, obviously someone has to keep an eye on you." He began stroking Naegi's cheek with the cloth again, even though Naegi would have thought his face was dry by now. "You have nothing to apologize for."
Naegi frowned, a little confused. If that hadn't been what Togami had meant, then what was it?
"I don't want you to be sorry," Togami continued, almost as if he'd known the question without Naegi needing to ask it. "I want you to be strong. If this is all some kind of trick – if the mastermind is still watching us after all – then you can't let them see you cry. It's as good as admitting they've won."
"I don't care about that," Naegi said, trying to give a single-shoulder shrug. What did it matter what the mastermind thought of him?
"You should." Togami had never sounded more serious. "Attitude is a powerful weapon – one that can cut both ways. Act confident when it matters, and you'll teach yourself to be confident. Act weak, and you'll hobble yourself. I know you're a strong person, Naegi – don't let the mastermind make you forget it."
That was what Togami thought of him? Naegi blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. He'd never thought of himself as particularly strong – especially not here, where all his decisions seemed to go so badly for his friends. All he'd ever done was try to keep going and do what had to be done. And it wasn't even as though he was the best at doing that – not compared to Kirigiri. She never let anything deter her from her search for answers – not even the chance she might be killed.
Naegi took a deep breath, turning his head a little so that he could meet Togami's eyes. He needed to see the other boy properly as he asked, "Do you really think she's dead?"
Togami's eyes went dark at the question, but he didn't flinch or look away. "Will it make you feel better to hear it?"
Naegi had to think about that question for a moment. Did he actually want to hear Togami spell out all his fears? Would it do anything other than hurt him to dwell so much on the worst case scenario?
Slowly, he shook his head. "No. You don't have to say it."
Togami breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."
"Because I don't think she's dead." Naegi did his best to fill his words with more confidence than he truly possessed, just like Togami had encouraged him to try. "I think she's too smart to fall for any of the mastermind's traps. And I won't believe otherwise until I see –" He couldn't quite bring himself to finish the sentence.
Togami nodded slowly. "Waiting for evidence is a solid plan." He glanced down at the cloth he'd used to wipe away Naegi's tears. "I hope you'll try not to dwell on alternatives in the meantime?"
Naegi heard the real question the other boy was asking. "I'll try," he said, trying to dredge up some semblance of a smile. "No more tears."
"Good." Togami tucked the cloth away in his pocket, then raised his hand again to thread through the back of Naegi's hair. He barely put any pressure into the touch, carefully avoiding anything that might jar an injury, and Naegi could almost imagine it was a gentle breeze ruffling through his hair. He leaned into the comforting motion, pressing closer until his head settled into the crook of Togami's shoulder.
He could almost forget that anything was wrong, wrapped safe and warm in Togami's arms. Just for one brief moment, he didn't have to think about deaths or plans or betrayals or any of the other horrible things that haunted his every breath in the mastermind's awful game. He could close his eyes and pretend that all this had been nothing more than a bad dream, that Hope's Peak was a real school instead of a nightmarish prison, and they were just ordinary students who'd found one another in the course of a normal, happy school life.
His dream from the night before flashed back through his mind – images of Hope's Peak as it should have been, with no plates covering the windows, full of light and laughter, where his biggest problem had been being late to class. A place where all his friends got along and cared about one another, and would never even consider the possibility of murder. A world where he could let himself spend a moment with Togami without the hint of fear that the next time they parted might be the last.
"You were in a dream I had," Naegi murmured, before he'd even realized he meant to say it.
"Was I?" Togami's hand went still and tense in Naegi's hair. "What kind of dream?"
In another conversation, said another way, the words could have been teasing, the opening gambit for an exchange of lighthearted flirtations. But here at Hope's Peak, fear always won out over joy. Naegi couldn't help but feel a little sad that Togami's first assumption had been some kind of nightmare.
"Nothing bad," Naegi reassured him. "It was a good dream." A faint smile crossed his face. "We were just attending Hope's Peak like normal students. I overslept, and you came to wake me up. You kissed me good morning, we walked to class together, and… it was just a regular day, like that happened all the time. Like we didn't have to wonder about it. It was… nice."
Togami paused for a long moment before clearing his throat. "Your dreams sound ridiculously boring."
"Maybe a little," Naegi admitted. "But… I would have liked the chance to have something like that."
Togami didn't answer, his hand still unmoving against the back of Naegi's head.
Naegi bit his lip, a slow worry creeping over him that maybe he'd misstepped somehow. Maybe it was too soon into their reconciliation to talk about dreams of a world where they'd been in some kind of long-term relationship. Or maybe Togami just didn't think it sounded as appealing as Naegi did. Maybe he thought it sounded sentimental and silly, not like anything he wanted to have in his own life. After all, it wasn't like they'd ever had the chance to find out what they might have wanted in a normal relationship. Bringing up that dream at all had probably just been a huge mistake, he really should have known better –
"You do have it."
Naegi blinked. "What?"
"Dream about a different school if you must – but don't bother dreaming about a relationship like that," Togami said, his voice so low Naegi could barely hear it. "You don't need to dream – you already have it."
