The world narrowed to the narrow opening of the elevator doors, the rectangle of flickering gray light that had no place in the dark reality where Togami had spent these last days. Nothing existed outside of that space, not hands shuddering against a podium or a throat locked by too many words he couldn't find or ears that couldn't process the puzzled sounds from the circle around him. Nothing was there but a small window into another world, a world where the dream of seeing his love again had happened. A world so perfect and complete that his chest ached from the beauty of it…
So much that he wished he could believe it was true.
He didn't know what kind of monstrosity the mastermind had created to sit in that repulsive wheelchair, but it did look strikingly like Naegi, at least at this distance. Bruised and battered, yes, even more broken than he'd been in the aftermath of his injury in the library — but what else would he be after a building, even a small building, had collapsed on him? If anything, it was ridiculous that he would look as well as he did after an execution — but the mastermind must have wanted to leave him intact enough for the other students to recognize.
But as the wheelchair began to roll slowly out of the elevator, Togami had to admit he couldn't see any hints as to that thing's true nature. In fact, it looked so very like Naegi that a terrible suspicion curled through his mind… had the mastermind sent Naegi's body down to them after all? Clearly they had access to highly advanced robotics, and they certainly had no compunctions about mutilating corpses. Had they decided to use Kirigiri's bizarre accusation as a tool to cause more pain?
It was far too believable that the mastermind would seize such an opportunity, Togami knew that all too well. But even so… he'd looked into those eyes across the room, and he knew that there had been someone looking back. Could circuitry and programming bring intelligence back to a corpse's death-clouded eyes?
No — no, he couldn't let himself start thinking that way. This was a trap, he knew it had to be a trap, and he couldn't let the mastermind trick him no matter how good a fake they'd made. He had to keep his grip on reality, no matter how painful it might be.
Those weren't Naegi's eyes, even if they squinted into the room with the same puzzled wariness he'd worn whenever the mastermind unveiled some new horror.
That wasn't Naegi's hand, even if its fingers lay along the wheelchair's arm in the exact pattern that had intertwined so perfectly with Togami's own.
And those weren't Naegi's lips, even if they… they curved up… and…
And he smiled.
Bright and innocent… kind and gentle… a ray of sunlight gleaming through the darkness of the trial room. It pierced through the shadows and struck Togami with the full force of an expression he'd never believed he'd see again.
Naegi's smile.
Everything else faded to gray beside it, slipping away into nothingness. The world could have shattered to pieces around him, and it wouldn't have been able to tear him away. All he could do was stand and stare, transfixed by the familiar smile, tracing every detail over and over again in the last moments before the elevator door closed.
With the additional gray light extinguished again, the trial room's darkness loomed even larger than it had before the elevator doors had opened. Togami drew a sharp breath into aching lungs, peering into the shadows for any trace of movement — but the podium lights couldn't reach so far beyond the circle.
Noise surged forward to fill the void, a rush of angry words he hadn't been able to hear moments before.
"— don't know what you think you're —"
"— pretty sick, even for —"
"— isn't funny, no matter what you —"
"— not gonna let you screw around with your tricks —"
The shouting voices tangled together, overlapping and running into one another as Jill and Ogami found different ways to say the same things. The specific words didn't matter, not really — not when he knew exactly what they meant.
The mastermind must have planned for this moment all along. He could see it now, how all the pieces fit together. They'd designed a room too dark to see anyone clearly, forcing unsuspecting minds to imagine they saw what hadn't been there. The darkness, the lighting, the whole set-up of this trial room was just a trick to convince him he'd recognized Naegi's smile.
That had to be what had happened. That was the only explanation for what he'd seen. He knew it now, and he just had to remember —
And then the chair rolled out of the shadows beside him, and every other thought ceased as he locked eyes with the boy sitting before him.
"I'm sorry."
… Naegi's voice.
"I'm so sorry."
… That was Naegi's voice.
"I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I just wanted you to be okay — I wanted everyone to be okay!"
… And not just the voice. The shift of his expressions… the set of his shoulders… the wave of his hair… the warmth in his eyes… everything about the boy in front of him was Naegi.
"I didn't mean for everything to turn out like it did. I wish I could've thought of something else, but — but I couldn't."
… It was Naegi.
"I'm sorry."
It was Naegi.
"Can you — uh, what —"
Naegi's hand was warm. Togami's fingers traced across the back of his wrist, hardly allowing himself to think about the solid weight and what it meant. It only took a nudge to flip the hand so the palm was facing up, the back flat against the chair's armrest. He let his fingers slid down to rest ever so lightly against the thin web of veins stark on the pale wrist.
And there it was beneath his fingers, faint but steady and unyielding — the pulse of a heart that hadn't stopped beating. The pulse of someone alive.
"You're alive."
He could hear his own voice speaking somewhere far in the distance, but he hardly recognized the sounds.
"You're alive."
The room blurred around him, the ground trembled beneath his feet, but none of it mattered. He didn't need to see, not when his world centered on the pulse of Naegi's heart beneath his fingertips. He didn't care when the floor shook until his legs buckled and brought him to his knees, not when it only brought him close enough to press his forehead against Naegi's open hand.
The other boy's gentle fingers curled to rest against his head, warm and steady and real, and he was undone. However much he'd grieved after that horrible trial, however much he'd tried to mourn, he hadn't shed a single tear. But now… now that Naegi was alive, was here… now his shoulders shuddered as each ragged breath tore through him. Hot wetness burned in his eyes until streaks of fire trickled down his cheeks. He buried his head in Naegi's hand and cried for all the sorrow that had so suddenly set him free.
The world had been empty, had been as dead and lifeless as he'd believed Naegi to be — but now, now he could see the possibility of a future stretching out before them both. He'd made mistakes, yes, that was still true — but he'd been gifted with a chance to fix what he'd done wrong. He could wipe away all the regrets that had tormented him. He could say the words he'd never had a chance to speak aloud to the one person he'd wanted to hear them.
Except that he couldn't. Sobs choked through his throat, filling any space where words might have formed. Even now, even in an impossible second chance, he couldn't make himself say —
"I love you."
For a moment, he didn't understand what he was hearing.
"I love you so much."
That wasn't his voice, not when he still couldn't stop his tears.
"I love you, Byakuya."
That was Naegi's voice — no, Makoto's voice — saying the words that had been ringing through his own head — words that he'd never thought he'd hear.
Makoto loved him.
And in that moment, Togami knew that he would do anything to keep Makoto Naegi safe.
