With the air around him thick and befouled by chemicals, Togami knew he didn't dare give in to the trembling weakness in his limbs that urged him to collapse. If he stayed here and kept breathing whatever was being spewed into the room, it would only sap more and more of his strength until he had nothing left to escape. And he hadn't come so far in Monokuma's vicious game to be defeated now.

He turned his head away from the stream of chemicals, gritting his teeth against the wave of nausea the movement sent shuddering through him. The telltale sharpness still lingered in the air in this direction, but at least it was less intense. Holding his breath, he mustered all the strength remaining to him and began dragging himself across the floor.

The room hadn't seemed particularly large before, no bigger than any of the other classrooms, but now its length stretched out before him in an impossible distance. He'd been exhausted already, awake for more than an entire day without sleep, and now the sullied air drained steadily away at the little energy he'd had left. His body ached as it never had before, muscles screaming from strain and joints shaking under pressure. He tried not to breathe, tried to keep any more of the filth from contaminating his lungs — but he couldn't hold his breath indefinitely. He did his best to inhale as little air as possible every time he had to draw breath, but even so, he could feel his head spin a little more fiercely with every breath.

The dingy light of the hallway gleamed ahead of him, a ray of hope just beyond the classroom door. Togami kept his gaze locked on that goal, trying not to think about how very slowly he was moving towards it. He could get there before his time ran out — he had to believe that. He had to have faith in his own ability to persevere beyond the weakness of his limbs, the spinning of his head, the hissing of his breath. He had to be stronger than this. He had to…

Had to rest. The heavy weight of his aching body finally grew too much for his trembling hands to support, and his arms gave way, knocking the air out of him as he collapsed onto his stomach. He instinctively drew in a deep gasp of air — and black spots bloomed before his eyes as his body convulsed with a fit of painful coughs.

Togami tried to fight past it, to look ahead towards the light beyond the door, but darkness surrounded him in spite of his best efforts. He tried to push his hands against the floor so he could lift himself and carry on — but he could hardly think clearly enough for the command. He felt his fingers spasming uselessly against the ground, unable to control them enough to bear his own weight. He might have fared better if he hadn't been so exhausted when he'd entered the room, or if he'd recognized the chemical scent to the air faster… but now, his thoughts were too slow, too muddled to drive his body the way he needed it to move.

Was this the end of everything, after all? Was this how he would finally lose to the mastermind's games? The thought burned, but with an empty fire that he couldn't translate into action. Even his mind had begun to fail him now, the power of his intellect drained of its force. He'd always relied on his intelligence and determination to carry him through any trials he faced, but now even his most trusted abilities were failing him.

Darkness surged around him, dragging him into a place beyond thought, where logic and rationality had no force. Shadowy oblivion overwhelmed all the mental bulwarks he'd erected throughout his life, every reminder of why he fought and why he couldn't surrender. His family name, his position as heir, his achievements, everything that had sustained him until his arrival at Hope's Peak — all of it receded into a distant haze, as unreliable and unreachable as if he didn't have those things at all. And now, falling so close to the black depths of unconsciousness, stripped of his strongest weapons and last defenses, what did he have left? Nothing but darkness, nothing but despair, nothing but…

Stay safe.

Words echoed through his mind, words that hadn't come from his own thoughts. Those were Naegi's words, nearly the last ones the other boy had said to him. Just two simple words, but they'd carried so many unspoken pleas within them.

Stay with me.

Come back alive.

Don't leave me alone.

The words rang through Togami's head as clearly as if he could actually remember Naegi saying them. And in every way that mattered, Naegi had. The glimmer in his eyes, the quiver of his lips, the edge to his voice… it had all been there, as plainly as if he'd verbalized it.

And from deep in the bedrock of his being, a place beyond conscious words or formulated reactions, Togami felt his emotions rise up in response.

Need blazed through him — need to protect, need to trust, need to give and receive, to cherish and depend on, to support and adore. A thousand fragments cascaded through his awareness, part of something that could encompass all that he was and not be enough… something that needed another person to make whole.

He'd known that he loved Naegi… but he hadn't understood everything that it meant. He hadn't known how deep it went, beyond the superficial desire for the other boy's presence in his life, even beyond his care for Naegi's safety and wellbeing. Love seemed a small and pitiful word next to everything that he'd found within himself, solid and enduring. This felt real, in a way that the distant memories of a life outside Hope's Peak no longer could. On his own, he didn't have the energy he needed. But…

Stay safe.

He heard Naegi's plea again… and found an answering strength that he hadn't known lay buried within him. It seemed too deep, too enduring to have been based on the mere weeks he'd known the other boy… and yet there it was, strong and undeniable. He needed Naegi, yes — but more than that, Naegi needed him. It would devastate the other boy if Togami lost this battle… and that mattered.

It mattered enough that Togami found the will to pry his eyes open again and slowly force his weakened body off the floor.

His hands still shook with every inch he gained, and his head still whirled dizzily at the slightest jolt — but with Naegi's voice in his head, he had something to hold onto beyond the immediate pain. He had something to fight for, something to work towards… something that could carry him the last length of the room to the doorway.

Togami just barely made it over the threshold before collapsing on the floor. An air vent at the top of the wall across from the classroom door blew clean, unsullied air down onto him, and he gulped it in like water in the desert. He'd made it out.

And unless he missed his guess, he hadn't been meant to.