Naegi stared at Kirigiri in shock, her words ringing through his head. Unmask the mastermind… was that even possible? How could she do a thing like that? But… Kirigiri didn't exaggerate or use hyperbole to make herself sound impressive. If she said that was her plan… then she had to have a real way to attempt it, one she seriously believed could work. But… if that was true…
"Did you learn something new about the mastermind while you were exploring the second floor?" Naegi asked, frowning. "Was there something you found in those dorms that you can use to prove their identity?"
Kirigiri just looked at him, her expression shuttered against any hint of a reaction. "You can't really expect me to tell you that."
Naegi couldn't stop his shoulders from sagging a little at her cold response. It hurt to hear her say so… but he knew she'd never shared a word more than she'd absolutely had to in order for him to help her. And if she really had learned something that she could use against the mastermind like this, of course she'd want to protect it even more fiercely than her other secrets. "I guess not."
She nodded, apparently satisfied by that response. "After all, it would be terribly unfair to insist that I present my evidence in secret, before the trial has even begun."
Naegi frowned at the way she said the words, with a slight emphasis on the word unfair. That wasn't usually a concept that Kirigiri seemed to care all that much about — after all, it wasn't technically fair for her to work on her own while still insisting that the rest of them tell her what they knew. But that method did seem to be effective… and from what he'd been able to learn about her, she preferred pragmatism to abstract notions of justice.
No, it was the mastermind who valued fairness — or at least the illusion of it. Nothing about this game was truly fair, not when the mastermind held all the power and gave them no choices. But even so, time and again Monokuma had insisted that everything happen according to the rules, even going so far as to say that he himself was bound by them.
And if that was the case… then maybe fairness had to matter, if they were really going to take on the mastermind. Whatever Kirigiri was planning, it couldn't involve so much as a whiff of cheating… not unless she wanted to end up like Asahina, gunned down in the middle of the trial room. If the mastermind was already suspicious of her, then deliberately opposing them during a trial would only make her more of a target. It would be a huge risk in any case… and once the mastermind figured out what she was doing, he was pretty sure she'd only get one try.
He looked at her, cool and collected, her demeanor projecting a quiet confidence that was both nothing like Togami's and equally powerful. But no matter how confident she might be, he had to ask. "And you really believe this plan can work?"
She tilted her head. "Do you think I don't have a chance?"
"That's not it!" Naegi protested hastily. He hadn't meant to make her think that he didn't believe in her.
"Then you don't believe I could have found the proof to make it happen?" she pressed. She sounded almost bored with this line of questioning, as though his answer didn't really matter to her either way… but Naegi wasn't sure that was true. After all, she wouldn't have asked if she didn't want to know what he'd say.
"If there was anything giving away the mastermind in that locked floor, of course you would be able to find it," he told her earnestly. "No matter how well they tried to hide it, you're way too good a detective to miss something important."
Only when Kirigiri's eyes widened slightly did Naegi realize exactly what he'd just said. Detective — that was what he'd called her, the word hanging heavy in the air between them. Before today, he could have used the word casually as nothing more than an offhand compliment to the deductive skills that she'd displayed time and again during their time in Hope's Peak… but after seeing her profile in the headmaster's office, he knew it meant more. And now she knew it, too.
He opened his mouth to say something — an apology, an explanation, he wasn't even sure what words he would have chosen — but she shook her head sharply before he could. "Well, I suppose that puts it out in the open, doesn't it?"
The words sounded like an admission… but they felt more like an accusation, hitting Naegi with a rush of sour guilt. He knew things about her that she hadn't wanted him to know — things she'd worked hard to keep a secret. Even if there had been mitigating circumstances with the murder and the approaching trial, that didn't make it better. He would have liked to ask her why she'd kept it a secret, why she hadn't trusted the rest of them with this information… but face to face with her, he couldn't quite bring himself to demand answers.
"I guess it does," Naegi said, swallowing back the guilt until only the faintest touch of regret lingered in his voice. "But… even without knowing, your skills are pretty impressive. Just based on those, I know you would have found any clues that were there."
"Your faith is touching." Kirigiri said the words with a complete lack of inflection. Naegi couldn't quite tell just how upset she was about his knowing her talent — but she hadn't stormed out like when he hadn't confided in her about Ogami and the mastermind, either. That had to be a good sign. Even if she was angry, she wasn't cutting herself off from him completely — after all, with the clock ticking down on their investigation, that would have been disastrous.
"Then… are you ready for the trial?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to seem like he was pressuring her to tell him things that she'd already said she wouldn't share.
She shrugged. "Would it matter if I said no?"
Because the trial was coming whether they were ready or not, just like always. "Not really. But… if you're not going to tell me anything else, I'd at least like to know that you're as prepared as you can be."
"Is that so?" Kirigiri tugged at her braid again, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Well, I can't say that I like having my hand forced in this manner… but even so, I believe I am as prepared as I can be." A faint smile touched her lips. "I think you'll be surprised to learn how much I've uncovered."
"I hope so." Naegi did his best to give her an encouraging smile, but it seemed to twist into something closer to a grimace. "I mean… if you can really do something during this trial that will go after the mastermind, then that won't just help you — it'll matter for everyone."
"I'm aware of the consequences," she said. "And you can believe me when I say that I do have the wellbeing of all the other students here in mind."
"Good," Naegi said, feeling rather relieved at the knowledge that she'd taken their friends into account in this plan. He'd never really doubted it — after all, Kirigiri had been against the murders from the first, helping in all the trials and fighting against the mastermind in any way she could. But even so, it was good to hear her confirm as much aloud. "I'm glad you care about what will happen to them."
"Care is a strong word," Kirigiri said, her light tone at odds with the weight of her gaze. "But I wouldn't be much of a detective if I couldn't keep the innocent from going down along with the guilty, would I?"
"I guess not." Naegi wasn't entirely sure that the question he thought he was answering was the one she'd actually asked, but that response seemed safe enough. "I don't want anyone innocent to get hurt, either."
"Yes… you've made that clear." Kirigiri crossed her arms. "Well, I can promise you one thing. If my plan works, all of your friends will get through it safely." One corner of her lips tilted upward in something that wasn't quite a smile. "You can trust me on that."
Naegi nodded slowly, finally allowing the first twinge of hope to begin coiling through his mind at the thought that her plan, whatever it was, might really work. "I do trust you."
She looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "We'll see."
Before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, she stood and stepped away from the benches. He scrambled for the music stand pole, trying to push himself up as fast as he could, but by the time he'd made it to his feet she was already out the door. He thought about calling after her, asking her to wait — but he didn't have the breath to waste on something that had never worked before. Nothing had ever been able to stop Kirigiri from walking away when she was done with a conversation —
Ding dong, bing bong.
The ringing bells were a little muted in the bathhouse, walled off from any of the mastermind's television monitors, but even so, Naegi couldn't fail to recognize them. Dread coiled heavy and sour in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down as he tried his best to hurry out of the bathhouse to a place where he could hear the full announcement.
He stepped through the bathhouse door into the open area of the dorms, to find Kirigiri standing cross-armed in front of the nearest television monitor, staring up at Monokuma's grinning image with a stony expression.
"I've counted all the way to one hundred, but I can't find any of you sneaky little snakes!" the bear said brightly, tilting his head as though genuinely puzzled. "I was going to compliment you all on your fantastic hiding spots — but then I realized you just haven't shown up yet! It's like you don't even know what game we're playing!" He threw back his head and laughed. "Well, no more time for second best — there's only one game left! Everyone form your teams — it's time to get this trial started!"
The screen winked out, cutting his cackling laughter off short.
Naegi looked up at Kirigiri. She ignored him, still staring at the empty television screen, even though it only showed their distorted reflections mirrored into blackness. "Well… I guess this is it," he said, the words coming out as more of a question than he'd intended.
That seemed to snap Kirigiri out of whatever thoughts had been occupying her. "Yes. I suppose there's no time left for anything else."
Naegi frowned. "But… that doesn't seem fair, does it? I mean… you haven't even had a chance to examine the murder scene, right? How are you supposed to be part of the trial if you don't even know what happened?"
She shrugged. "It's a little late to worry about that."
"Not if you're fast," he said. "Look — I can't walk very fast like this, and Togami will be even slower. You could run up to the fifth floor and look at the body while we're gathering."
Kirigiri raised her eyebrows. "In direct defiance of an order?"
"It isn't defiance," Naegi countered. "I'm sure you'll still get to the trial room in plenty of time."
She tilted her head and frowned at him, and he could almost see the gears spinning in incomprehensible calculations. After a moment, she gave a single sharp nod. "All right, then."
And with that, she turned and headed for the door, moving as fast as if she were running for all that she hardly seemed to expend more effort than a brisk walk. Naegi tried not to feel too nervous as he watched her go. It wasn't like the last time he'd helped her go off on an investigation, after all. Compared to her search of the second floor dorms, this was hardly dangerous at all. But even knowing it was true, the reassurances rang hollow in his head.
Naegi sighed and began heading for the door to the other half of the first floor, step by careful step. He didn't hurry, in spite of his painful awareness that the ticking clock had finally run down. There was no reason to rush, not when he wanted to buy Kirigiri as much time as possible to do a quick investigation of the body. But whether he hurried or not, he couldn't avoid the fact that the time had finally come — the class trial was about to begin.
