Naegi hardly knew how to answer Junko's question. She'd challenged him to find some scrap of hope in his memories of the past like she'd expected it to be an impossible task — but that wasn't true at all. Yes, he'd remembered the horror of the Tragedy, but he'd remembered so much more as well.
Even in the midst of the worst events, as the sixteen of them learned how much they'd lost… they'd still been able to find strength in their connections to one another. They'd seen their homes destroyed, their families broken, their lives in ruin… but they hadn't had to endure it alone. They'd still had a place in the world, people who cared about them, a chance to find a brighter future.
Junko might have erased their memories, but she couldn't change the fact that it had happened. The strength they'd found had existed… and they could all reach it again if they could only get the chance. He had to keep believing that… because if he forgot, there would be no one left to remember.
Except… that shouldn't be true. Naegi bit his lip, not quite brave enough to meet Junko's eyes as she watched him think. She'd said herself that she shared the same memories that he'd recovered… but it hadn't been enough to pull her free from her despair. She should have had the same reason to hope that he did, but she'd put her friends through this nightmare anyway.
But that didn't mean it was gone… did it? Just because she'd lost her way, it didn't mean she could never find it again. If he could believe that there was strength for himself in those memories… shouldn't he believe that Junko could find strength in them as well?
"We… were all friends," Naegi said at last, after the silence had stretched too long between them. "Even when… everything was worst… all of us stayed friends."
"Hmmm…" Junko tapped her finger against her temple. "You know, you might have a point. We were friends, weren't we?" She paused, and a sharp smile twisted one corner of her mouth upward. "Past tense. Or did you forget that all their memories went bye-bye?"
"That… doesn't matter," Naegi insisted. He hadn't been willing to meet her eyes before… but now he did, lifting his gaze to hers with a determination unbroken by the amusement he found there. "We're… still friends. We'll… always… be friends."
"Oh?" She tilted her head back and forth — then graced him with a smile that looked terrifyingly genuine. "It's so sweet that you think so! And if you're that convinced — well, how can I argue?"
Naegi blinked. Did that mean… she was agreeing with him? Surely it couldn't be that simple…
"Then if you insist, I guess we're still friends!" Junko beamed at him for a brief moment longer, before the smile dropped away as if it had never existed. "But you know… friends kill each other all the time."
The leaden tone of her voice sent chills down Naegi's spine. Hearing her speak like that, it sounded like nothing in the world could ever be cheerful again. He hated hearing anyone talk that way, even someone who'd done all the horrible things that Junko had. No one should have to believe that the world had no possibilities left to offer.
"They don't… not really," he said, reaching for all the conviction he could muster in his weakened state. "Not friends who… put each other first."
"And you think this lot would do that?" Junko's head twitched like she would have shaken it, but didn't care enough to complete the gesture. "No way. They wouldn't. No one would really value another person that much. There's nothing you could have remembered about anyone that would say otherwise."
The flat, uncompromising words slammed into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. She remembered the same things he did… and she still couldn't see any evidence of people caring for one another? Not even among their own friends? The words could have been a direct attack on all the memories he held most dear. There had to be something he could say to fend it off… something that would counter her thoughts…
And there was. There was. All he had to do was think about the friends he'd made in that one shining year at Hope's Peak, and the answer was easy.
"You're wrong," he said, relief rushing through him as he recognized the proof he could use to break her words. "I do… remember."
"Huh?" For the briefest of moments, her eyes widened — but then she nodded to herself, slumping back down as the heavy chains of despair fell back around her shoulders. "Oh… yeah, I see. Sure, you remember back when everyone was living out that picture-perfect school life. It's easy to pretend to care about the people around you when the world is full of sunshine and daisy chains. But everything changes out in the real world. You can't tell say I'm wrong about that. Once we all had to leave Hope's Peak, all bets were off."
"But you are wrong!" He didn't even have to think this time — the words and memories all came flowing together more easily than he could have imagined. "Don't you… remember?"
So many memories flashed through his mind, the glittering jewels of hope that he'd forgotten. Each one was a fragile fragment of light embedded deep within his heart… and all he wanted was to show them all to Junko so that she could understand what he believed.
"The Tragedy… didn't destroy our connections," Naegi went on, visions of his friends playing out vibrant and alive before his eyes. "We still… cared about each other. When the first reports… were coming in… we all waited together for the news. Celeste read every update about… the terrible things happening in Hifumi's hometown… when he was too scared to look."
"Well… okay, fine. That's one point." A brief frown creased Junko's face for a moment before she shrugged. "You can make up one example of anything. It doesn't prove I'm wrong."
"But you know you are." Naegi took advantage of the flash of uncertainty she'd shown to press his advantage. "It kept going… even when the Tragedy didn't stop. When Sayaka ran away… after seeing what happened to her bandmates… Leon went through a whole battle zone… just to bring her back."
"You remembered that, too?" Junko's breath hissed sharply between her teeth. "No… no, it still doesn't change anything. They were all strong. They were brave. It isn't worth much for people to do something easy, when they barely have to struggle."
Naegi didn't think that was true… but he didn't have to argue with her, not when he had another example on the tip of his tongue. "Chihiro struggled. He was so scared… of seeing all the blood… and bodies. But when Mondo learned about his gang… Chihiro went with him… so that he wouldn't have to see it alone."
Junko froze for a long, silent moment, her eyes locked on the invisible specter of lost memories playing out in the empty void between them. "He… did?" She swallowed hard. "He did. They all did." Her gaze rose to Naegi's. "You're right — each of them really did care about each other. All of those friendships… really were genuine."
She was beginning to falter, Naegi could see it. She was starting to understand that despair wasn't everything, that there could still be hope in the world. The memories that gave him strength would give the same to her, a ray of light that couldn't be doused by any darkness. She would see it and she would —
She would lean back, all the layers of emotion evaporating from her face like a smokescreen blown by the wind. "And you know how all those genuine friendships ended?" Her eyes stayed locked on his, dragging him into the emptiness beyond. "Every single one of them ended with murder."
Scheduling note: Sorry to do this again so soon, but I won't be able to finish a new chapter for next week. Work is requiring all my free time through next weekend, so I won't have a chance to write. Next chapter will be up on 4/29 - see you then!
