Naegi knew he had to say something to Sakura. Her question should have been so simple, just a simple recitation of an event that had happened mere days ago. It ought to be easy to marshal his thoughts, open his mouth, and order the words on his tongue. Telling the truth would ensure Hina's memory wasn't twisted, the kindness of those last words they'd shared would bring Sakura some small comfort as she remembered her dearest friend, and participating in the trial would ease the worried lines creasing Byakuya's forehead. There was every reason to speak, and none at all to stay silent.

But the weight of Kyoko's eyes bore down on him, and his throat closed against any words. She was watching him, waiting for him to make another mistake, planning how she could most effectively tear him apart. Anything he said now, no matter how well-intentioned, would just place another weapon in her hands.

Not that she needed another. She had so many ways to attack already, with every one of his horrible mistakes locked vividly in her steel memory. Every time he'd overlooked what should have been obvious, every tangle of words he'd said to make bad situations worse, every stupid decision he'd made in a futile attempt to stop his friends from suffering… with all the disasters his actions had brought on his friends, it was no wonder Kyoko had decided he had to be an enemy.

"Stop asking him those questions."

Shadows pooled over him in a wave of merciful darkness as Byakuya moved forward to scowl out across the circle, blocking the meager light that had been able to reach him. He couldn't see clearly now either, his own vision blocked as well, but he didn't need more than a silhouette to recognize the fierce protectiveness that would be flashing across his boyfriend's face.

"It won't accomplish anything. You know that he'd be more than willing to tell you at any other time — but he can't when he's like this."

Like… this? Did he really seem so badly off that even in this dark room, everyone could tell? His friends had always said that they could read his thoughts right from his face… but surely, surely that couldn't be true now. Could it? The thought that anyone who looked at him could see the mess of dread tangling through his insides sent nausea shuddering through his stomach. His imagination shied away from picturing how those thoughts might have twisted his face, his shoulders curling in to make himself as small as possible.

"He can't?"

Naegi flinched back from Kyoko's voice, colder and more vicious than he'd ever known she could be.

"Surely you haven't forgotten that all of our lives are riding on the outcome of this trial. This is our only chance to solve the school's mysteries and save our own lives. And you're saying that even with all his beloved friends at stake, he can't answer a simple question?"

She meant for the mocking words to illustrate that he didn't have anyone else's best interests in mind, he knew that… but that didn't make it any less true. Sakura needed his help to regain her equilibrium after her memories of Hina overwhelmed her so badly. Everyone needed him to speak up and find some way to refute the false conclusion Kyoko had drawn. Sitting here in silence was selfish.

But would speaking be any better? After all the harm he'd caused by trying to follow his best judgment, how could he justify speaking up now? For all he knew, this was just another chance for everything to go wrong. Maybe telling Sakura about that last conversation with Hina would only make the situation worse. After the way all his other decisions had backfired, it would make sense.

He dropped his gaze to his lap, staring down at the shadowy outlines of his legs disappearing into darkness. There was nothing he could say, even if he found a way to force himself to speak. Nothing that wouldn't make everything worse. He locked his jaw in place, letting the silence of the room answer for him. At least that emptiness couldn't do anything wrong.

"Is it that terrible?" He didn't want to hear anything else, not now… but Sakura's quiet question pierced through to his heart. "Is what you discussed with Hina really too horrible to share?"

"Maybe he just forgot!" Jill said, with an overbearing energy that made him shrink back against his wheelchair. "Who'd remember a whole conversation from weeks ago, huh? Good memory or not, it's not like he's got a playback feature!"

"Oh, is that all you're going on about?" Junko heaved a put-upon sigh, and Naegi's blood froze in his veins. "Geez, you should've said so sooner. Let's get this over with so you can all get back to the real mysteries!"

Light blazed above their heads, slamming into eyes that had adjusted to the darkness with all the force of a punch. Pain hissed through Naegi's teeth as he shut his eyes too late, and the sound echoed back to him from his friends around the circle.

"I'm scared!"

Even with his eyes closed, Naegi could never mistake Hina's voice.

"I'm so scared I'm going to lose her! She's the best friend I've ever had — I know I haven't known her that long, but it's still true."

The words she'd spoken in the laundry room rang through his memory at the same time they blared out from the speakers.

"And now — now, if everyone believes what you and Togami were saying, they'll all hate her! We've lost so many people — I can't lose Sakura on top of all that. I don't know what I'd do!"

The pain in her voice clawed at his heart, more than he'd heard when she'd first spoken the words. He knew what she'd been feeling, now that he could remember the reality of her friendship with Sakura. She'd spoken with the grief of a two-year friendship forged from joy and tragedy, not the mere days she'd believed. She'd cared so desperately about Sakura… she'd felt so alone and helpless.

And what had he said to her, in that vulnerable state?

"You're not going to lose her! We can get everyone to believe in Ogami, I know it! There's still a way out of this. There has to be!"

He cringed to hear his own words now. Had he really thought that was any kind of encouragement?

"I don't see how. She won't even talk to me anymore, did you know that? She finally got mad at me this morning for yelling so much, and now she's avoiding me. I wanted to apologize, but I haven't been able to find her. I got so caught up in fighting that I didn't even care what she wanted. I wasn't even listening to her."

"No — Hina, no, that wasn't true!

But the recording played on, and Naegi could hear his own voice drowning out Sakura's words.

"Well, you can listen to her now. You've been spending so much time with her every day – you must know somewhere she always goes. And maybe if you work things out with her, you'll be able to convince her to explain herself to everyone else. I think if she told everyone more of the truth, in her own words, it would do a lot to make them trust her more."

Had he really said that? No… no, he couldn't have, not really. He couldn't have said that, not when later that night… that night…

"Yeah – yeah, I think you're right. I need to figure out a way that I can definitely talk to Sakura, before I do anything else –– and then maybe I need to talk to everyone else, too."

No, no, don't do it, don't listen — the words caught in his throat, demanding to be freed but impossible to say. He shouldn't have let her go, shouldn't have said any of it, shouldn't have encouraged her to make the last mistake of her life.

"Thank you, Naegi."

Kyoko was right. It had been his fault.