Naegi wasn't quite sure why the mention of the bucket of water he'd found had suddenly put Togami on edge. If he'd been setting up a bomb that could leave fires behind if it went off accidentally, he would've wanted to have some water on hand too. And Togami was the one who'd said it sounded like the culprit might have wanted to give any investigators a shot at escaping, so surely it ought to make sense that they would've left the water behind to deal with the flames.

But if seeing the place it had been left behind would make Togami feel better, Naegi wasn't going to object. After the ordeal that Togami had been forced to endure because of that bomb, Naegi figured the other boy needed all the answers about the situation he could get. So he nodded and began moving back towards the shadowed corner where he'd found the bucket of water.

With the flames gone, the only light in the ruined classroom came from the lantern that had fallen in the middle of the floor. The powerful camping lantern did have strong enough illumination to let them see most things in its direct path fairly clearly — but the piles of broken furniture cast a long shadow over this corner, leaving the abandoned items hidden in their own pocket of darkness. Naegi only knew they were looking at the place he remembered finding the bucket of water when he felt the faint breeze of the slowly running fan brush across his skin.

"Here," he said, tilting the top of the music stand pole in the direction that he knew the items had to be. "This is where I found it."

He looked back at the sound of footsteps, and he saw Togami crossing over to retrieve the lantern from where it had fallen. Naegi couldn't help but frown at the visible lines of strain that creased Togami's face at the effort of hauling the lantern over to a place where it could illuminate the shadowy corner. Of course he'd known the explosion had hit Togami hard. It had knocked him unconscious and left him mostly deafened — well, temporarily deafened, Naegi hastily corrected his own thoughts, it had to be temporary, it couldn't be anything else. But… had those been the only side effects? Was Togami really as okay as he'd claimed? The twisting nausea of fear clutched at Naegi's gut as he watched the other boy struggle to bring the lantern halfway across the room.

But even if something was wrong, Naegi was pretty sure this wasn't the right time to ask. Togami would never admit to something that looked like weakness if he thought the mastermind's cameras might catch it. And as long as he seemed to be managing, Naegi didn't want to draw attention to a potential vulnerability. He'd just have to try to wait until they could communicate privately, so that Togami would feel like he could be honest. Naegi was sure Togami wouldn't lie to him about something so important as his wellbeing.

As Togami finally set the lantern where it could send light flooding into the shadowed corner, Naegi forced his concerns away, focusing on the newly-lit area instead. He might not be sure how it could be relevant, but Togami clearly thought it was important — and that was enough for him.

The area was pretty much the way Naegi remembered it during his frantic search for a way to stop the fire. A small, rectangular fan sat in the middle of the floor, blowing a gentle stream of air out towards the rest of the room. It had to be battery-operated, since he didn't see any cords connecting it to an outlet, and in any case, the room's power was out. It was probably for the best that the fan didn't have any dangling plugs, though, because right at the fan's base, someone had dropped a couple soaking wet sponges, leaving an ominously shiny pool around the fan. There almost seemed to be more liquid on the floor than the sponges could have held, but he supposed that the empty bottles scattered across the floor could explain that.

All in all, it did look pretty dangerous — but in a far more mundane way than he'd come to expect from Hope's Peak. This looked like the sort of careless hazard that could happen by accident in any school, something that could just be dismantled and forgotten. Naegi turned to look up at Togami to say as much —

And he was shocked to see Togami lunge past him towards the fan, jabbing hard at the off switch with cold horror written across his face.

"What are you doing?" Naegi asked, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

Togami didn't answer, staring down at the fan as it wound down to a stop. It took Naegi a moment to realize that the other boy wasn't exactly ignoring him — since he was looking at the fan instead of Naegi's face, he probably didn't even realize Naegi had said a word. Naegi frowned at that, his fingers tightening to white where they gripped the music stand pole. Togami had said that he could hear Naegi a little, enough to tell that he was speaking — but what if he'd only said that for the benefit of the cameras? Togami didn't usually pretend to have a lower level of skill than he actually possessed — but maybe his lip reading abilities were better than he'd claimed. Maybe his hearing was even worse than he'd been letting on.

Or maybe he'd just been distracted by whatever had alarmed him so much about the fan. It only took Togami a moment longer to turn away from the fan and look back at Naegi. "It was still running."

"Well… yeah, I guess it must have been running the whole time we've been in here," Naegi said slowly. "But… it's just a fan, isn't it? Does it matter?"

"Quite a lot," Togami said grimly. "If this is the same fan I felt blowing on me the first time I was in this room — then this is the device the culprit used to put knockout gas in the air."