As soon as the recording began to play, Togami had known it would be bad. The mastermind wanted them to see this recording, and that meant it had to lead deeper into this nightmare. He'd braced himself for the worst as the conversation rang through the trial room.
But even knowing all that, it hadn't been enough to prepare him for the scene that unfolded on the screen above their heads. Makoto had urged Asahina so kindly, so earnestly, so hopefully to work toward a reconciliation with her friend… and it was impossible to disentangle this moment from the knowledge that it had led to her death.
It hadn't been Makoto's fault — Togami knew it hadn't. No one could have predicted that Asahina would take those words as encouragement for breaking and entering, or that her plan to circumvent the locked doors would fail so miserably. Makoto couldn't possibly have intended for any of it to happen.
But that didn't make it look any better. And if it was hard for him to keep that in mind, with his limited involvement with Asahina and his bone-deep faith in Makoto's innocence, how would it look to the other students?
"That's what she thought?" Ogami's voice shook with intensity, but Togami couldn't pinpoint whether it was grief, rage, or some other emotion entirely. "That's what Hina thought, before she sought me out? That's what she said?"
Even in the darkness, he could see the tension screaming through her body, her shoulders vibrating down to the fists clenched at her sides. Her weight shifted, and ice slid down his spine as he realized she'd poised herself to lunge away from the podium at any moment. And different trial room or not, he knew the guns would still be hidden somewhere, just waiting for one of the students to put a toe out of line.
"There's no need to overreact to a simple video," he said, flinging the words across the circle before she could try anything even stupider. "It's no different from what we already knew must have happened. She admitted as much during that trial."
"No — no, she never said any of that. She never said that she thought I was angry at her, or that she believed I'd misunderstood her feelings. She — she never —" Ogami's voice broke, her head slumping down.
Was she crying? In the middle of a trial? Disbelief tightened his jaw, as he readied a barb about behavior befitting the strongest person alive in order to jolt her back to her senses.
Except… would that help? A few days ago, he wouldn't even have taken the time to wonder. But now… now that he'd lived through the nightmare of believing Makoto was dead, now that he'd felt what it was like on the other side of that abyss… now he wasn't sure. Challenges and taunts had their place as highly effective techniques, but perhaps they weren't the most appropriate for every situation.
But then, what did that leave? How was he meant to approach her when kindness and gentleness were needed, rather than ferocity? Those were Makoto's forte, the weapons he knew how to wield so effectively that they hardly even seemed to be attacks… but with his hand frozen in Togami's own, there was no chance that he might intervene.
"Whatever Asahina did or didn't say is irrelevant at this point." He tried to summon up the memory of what other students had said in this kind of situation. "She hardly needed to make a specific declaration about it — her argument that she was the one behind the scheme to circumvent the locks made it obvious that she cared for you quite sincerely. If she were here, I'm certain she would assure you of her affection and insist you fight to save yourself."
Even to his own ear, his words rang weak and hollow against the vibrant fullness of the recording. What did it matter if he invoked memories of Asahina and spun what-ifs about how she might have reacted, when the conversation they'd just heard made it all too clear what she had done?
Not that it mattered. The words barely even seemed to reach Ogami, suggesting that anything he might have said would have been equally ineffective. She seemed unable to hear any words other than whatever echoed inside her head.
Better to focus his attention elsewhere for the time being. Togami's gaze flicked to the side, where Kirigiri watched her with the same impassive stare as always. "Now that we've all seen what happened, you have to admit it doesn't prove anything. Whatever you might want to believe, you can't point to a single instance of ill intent in that conversation."
"And you can't prove otherwise." Kirigiri's counterattack flew out so smoothly that she must have had it planned. "You don't know the intent behind his words either, no matter confidently you believe that you do. All we can judge by are the results of their conversation — and we all saw that Naegi's encouragement was the critical element that convinced Asahina to proceed with her plan."
"So what? It's not Makoto's fault her plan was stupid. He never told her to go break down a door."
"Maybe not in so many words — but he certainly armed her with the means to do so." Kirigiri raised an eyebrow. "Or have you forgotten whose toolkit Asahina used? For someone who didn't want anyone hurt, Naegi seems to be remarkably involved in making it happen."
"He didn't make anyone do anything!"
"Neither did Monokuma."
The comparison slapped Togami across the face, so unexpected that it took him a moment to understand what she'd actually said. His eyes narrowed as the words sank in, and he realized that apparently she could find new ways to be cruel to the boy who'd trusted her. "You can't be serious."
"It's the same argument he uses — he might provide the motivation, but we're the ones who make the choice to kill." She shrugged. "You can't deny the similarity."
"That doesn't mean that —"
"She wouldn't be dead." A low rumble cut them off, more growl than human voice. The darkness shifted, and Ogami stepped back into the tendrils o light at her podium. Her eyes blazed across the circle, burning straight into Makoto. "If he hadn't said those things to Hina, she wouldn't be dead."
