There was nothing left.
Togami stared through the window, eyes fixed on the ruins of that final wall, the place where the last of the grotesquely dancing line had been crushed… but no matter how long he looked, there wasn't a hint of motion. No shifting rocks, no quivering dust, not a single sign that anything living might remain on the other side of the glass. The facts were clear… leaving only one logical conclusion.
There was nothing left of the boy he loved.
His body seemed to drift hollow and empty through the passing seconds as he stood pressed against the window. He knew the glass was cool under his hand, the ground solid beneath his feet, the air frigid as it blew across the back of his neck… but the sensations themselves couldn't touch him. His world began and ended with the execution room… the last place he had seen.
It had been pretty, before the execution began. The thought did nothing to comfort him now, after the falling walls had destroyed any possibility of beauty in the world… but still, it hadn't been Celeste's witch burning scene or Fukawa's horror movie asylum. It had been a nightmare of its own, yes… but it was possible that someone too injured to think straight wouldn't have recognized the horror of it.
Maybe someday he would be able to believe that, if he tried.
But whatever the room had been at the start, it certainly wasn't pretty now. The walls had split and crumbled all across the rolling grass, turning it to a field of dirty rubble that oozed red from every crack. The birds that had soared through the air had fallen to the ground in a tangle of wires and sparks, still twitching in a futile attempt to repeat the motions of flight. And the sky, bright and clear and crystal blue, the sky that had looked so real he'd almost forgotten they had to be far, far underground… the sky had been torn asunder when the walls fell against it. A long swath of blue cloth dangled from the ceiling, exposing the solid gray concrete and half-rotted support beams.
He didn't know how long he stood there, looking at the wreckage. Years, a lifetime, an eternity… or maybe only a handful of seconds. It wasn't as though it mattered, not when there was nothing left to change. With only an endless span of emptiness stretching out into his future, details didn't make a difference. He could have stayed there until all the time in the world had ticked away… and it still wouldn't undo what had happened beyond the window.
But even eternity ended. The room receded, moved into the distance, slipped away from his grasp… and only when he would have lost sight of that spot, the last place that had meant anything did he realize that it wasn't the room that was moving, but him. There was a hand, a large and calloused hand holding his elbow, guiding him away from the window with a grip that was gentle but firm.
He could fight it, though, if he wanted to try. He knew the movements that would let him twist away, free himself, and go back to the window, back to where he'd been, back to the place he'd stood when he saw the last of the walls crash down into a nightmare of red…
But there was no point. Togami closed his eyes and let Sakura Ogami lead him carefully away to the elevator that would carry them back to the rest of the school. It didn't matter if they left this scene behind. There was nothing left of Naegi in that room.
There was nothing quite like a job well done. Junko couldn't help but beam with pride as she surveyed her handiwork. The broken slump of Ogami's shoulders as she lost her battle against depression… the dull plodding of Jill's feet, stripped of their usual bounce… the shell-shocked numbness that had washed away Kirigiri's mask of false stoicism… and the emptiness in Togami's eyes as he stumbled unseeing towards the elevator. She really had outdone herself this time, if she did say so herself!
Well, no, she had to give credit where it was due — she and Naegi had outdone themselves. After all, she couldn't have pulled off this level of despair without the other boy's help. He was such a nice guy, always willing to help out a friend — she'd always appreciated that about him!
It was such a shame that he couldn't see the beautiful results of his decision to lie. He'd torn through his friends like a wrecking ball — and realizing it would have sent him plummeting into the loveliest depths of despair. If he hadn't died before getting the chance to experience it, she would have been so jealous!
She kept an eye on her friends just long enough to make sure they settled in for the night, without another round of key-stealing hijinks. Once they were all snug in their beds, or at least close enough, she flipped her trap door open and dropped into the room beneath. It was pretty jam-packed, with barely enough room for her bed wedged in between all the piles of possessions she'd confiscated from the school that could have given the game away early. It took some maneuvering, but she managed to wriggle her way around the stacks without knocking more than a couple photos to the floor.
On the other side of the room, she hit the button to open her personal elevator and slipped inside, drumming her fingers impatiently against the steel walls as it descended to the trial rooms. Honestly, she would much rather have taken the opportunity for a nice nap, while all her friends were occupied… but if there was one thing she'd learned from Owada, it was that the post-execution clean-up couldn't be delayed. She'd left him to his own devices just a little too long, and scraping all that congealing flesh off the motorcycle so she could move it to the morgue had taken hours — and that wasn't even counting the time she'd had to spend redoing her nails afterward!
Not that she expected Naegi to give her anywhere near that much trouble, of course. She'd just grab a shovel from her backstage equipment stash on her way into the execution room — it hadn't been long at all, so that ought to do the trick.
Shovel in hand, she swung open the back door to the execution room, taking a deep breath of the blood-soaked air. How many tragedies had she visited, with that same stench hanging heavy in the air? She might have lost track of the numbers, the boring little tallies devoid of personality… but she remembered every single one. And she'd remember this one, too. She owed it to sweet little Naegi, who had given his life to bring about her dreams.
Junko's feet squelched through the blood-soaked grass as she circled around the room, studying the fallen walls with a frown. She was going to have to move them, if she wanted to get at the body… but the real question was how to do it. There wouldn't have been much point if the walls weren't heavy, after all! She headed towards the place where Naegi had been squashed, frowning thoughtfully at the large pieces of the wall that lay together in a heap. Maybe if she pushed off the top one…?
She gave the largest piece of rubble an experimental shove — and to her surprise, it toppled backwards to shatter against the ground. She blinked. That was strange… it must have been pretty off balance to fall over that easily. She glanced down… and her eyebrows slowly lifted up towards her hairline.
The reason the piece of wall had tipped over without much trouble was that apparently, it hadn't been lying flat against the ground. The wall had crumbled in such a way that the pieces had hit the floor at just slightly different moments, creating a small space where they'd been propped against one another. It wasn't much space, of course — but it was just enough for Naegi's body to lie in the small, uncrushed space.
Junko shook her head slowly, a smile of disbelief curling across her lips. "Wow… guess they weren't kidding when they called you the Ultimate Lucky Student, huh?" She shrugged and raised the shovel high above her head. It ought to be heavy enough if she swung it hard.
And then she realized his eyes were open.
She paused, shovel going still in her hands. He shouldn't be awake, there was really no way he could be conscious. His eyes might be open, but even so, he had to be in the middle of some wild hallucinations, not seeing the reality of the situation. He couldn't really see —
"Junko…"
Her name was less than a whisper, barely a breath on his trembling lips… but she still heard it. Junko stared down into Naegi's eyes — and she saw recognition. Not of the hair, the clothes, all the things she'd shared with the second-rate copy of herself that Mukuro had managed… but a deep, cutting recognition of who was really standing in front of him. He knew her.
He knew her.
The shovel clattered to the ground, an abandoned tool from another plan, as Junko bent down at Naegi's side. Slowly, gently, she slid her arms under his back and his legs, lifting him out of the wreckage. The movement seemed to be too much for his overloaded brain, sending him slumping back into unconsciousness… but she could still see the rise and fall of his chest as she turned to carry him back towards the elevator.
She had a new plan.
Note: And there we have it - the final chapter of the post-trial arc. This is one of the sections I've been looking forward to writing ever since I plotted out this fic, and I'm really excited to have it finished! I'd also like to say thank you to those of you who have been reading it along with me. It means a lot to know that you're enjoying the story as much as I am! 3
Now that this arc is over, I'm going to take another break before trying to start the next section. After the emotional intensity of writing this section, I need a solid two weeks to recover! So that means the break will be about two and a half weeks. The next chapter will be posted on Thursday, May 11. I'll see you all then, when we learn more about just what horrible plans Junko has for our poor boys!
