What's waiting in that world you're all so desperate to get back to.
Naegi's breath turned leaden in his lungs.
The world outside…
The sick, heavy weight of it choked through his chest, locking every muscle in place so no air could escape.
What's waiting for us out there…
He'd tried not to think of it, tried so hard not to let the knowledge lurking in his brain consume him… but even squeezing his eyes shut tight couldn't hide the memories that Junko's words had revived.
What's left of the world…
Unrecognizable bodies rotting in the streets — buildings collapsing in on themselves with helpless victims still inside — screams and gunfire tearing through the air while passersby didn't even raise their heads to look —
The world after the Tragedy.
His chest ached, lungs burning for him to revive enough for another breath — but he couldn't, he couldn't, not when he remembered the moment he'd seen the atmosphere flame into ruin. The air purifier here in the shelter kept them safe, let them breathe freely, but he knew that one step outside these walls would leave them gasping.
He'd seen what remained of people who'd been forced to breathe too much of that poisoned air, the ones who couldn't find gas masks or who just gave up on trying. And he could imagine, all too easily, what would happen to his few remaining friends if he let them walk unknowingly out these doors.
And he wasn't the only one who knew it. Jill slammed her hands down on her podium and glared up Junko, eyes flashing with reflected lights that turned them pale instead of red. Fresh air flooded into Naegi's lungs at the sight, and what it had to mean. He might not have spent two years with this side of Toko's personality — but for the rest of his life, he would be able to recognize the expression of a person remembering the Tragedy.
"Of course I haven't forgotten." Jill's voice rumbled through the room so low and deep as to be nearly unrecognizable. A shiver ran down Naegi's spine as he realized that nothing could have been further from the higher-pitched tone she'd adopted from the first time she'd introduced herself as a separate entity. "Maybe I don't remember the whole thing — but I'm not gonna up and forget something as big as the whole world." One corner of her mouth twisted upward, in a dark parody of her usual grin. "After all, it's not like the mastermind ever got around to wiping my memory."
Which meant — she knew. Naegi could hardly get his head around the thought. It hadn't just been his imagination, conjuring up the illusion that he might not have to endure this by himself. Jill knew what kind of world waited outside the shelter. A burst of relief rushed through him as he realized — because even though it meant she remembered terrible things, even though it meant she had to be terrified, it meant that he wasn't the only one who knew. It wasn't just him who understood the threat lurking in Junko's words.
"Huh… guess you're right. No reason you wouldn't know." Junko twitched one shoulder upward, sketching the barest outline of a disinterested shrug. "I thought maybe the memory wipe screwed up or something… cause there's no way anyone with a working brain would hope to go back to a world like that."
The word hung in the air like the perfect bait, tantalizing and poisonous. She'd judged her tone exactly, implying just enough horror to drive their amnesiac friends crazy with fear about what she might mean. If he hadn't remembered the truth already, Naegi knew he wouldn't have been able to ignore the trap — and he couldn't blame his friends for feeling the same.
Except… their reactions weren't quite right. His eyes darted around the circle, skittering away from the empty portraits like lingering too long would burn him, jumping from face to face as he tried to understand. With the trap Junko had set for his friends, luring them to ask about the world so she could unleash the Tragedy, they should have been caught in desperate curiosity, questions and fear of the answers warring in their eyes.
But no one did. Sakura looked away from the throne, clenching her fists and closing her eyes, as if there were no questions fighting to be spoken against her better judgment. Byakuya barely even acknowledged the words, ignoring them as thoroughly as anything else he deemed unnecessary. And though Kyoko's eyes did glint with an interest in answers, she didn't seem inclined to jump for the bait meant to distract her from her goals.
They weren't asking. The trap should have dragged them all down a painful rabbit hole of despair-inducing revelations, horrifying enough to distract them from the trial… but no one was asking the questions that would start it.
Why? He didn't know — and in a desperate search for answers, his unconscious instincts drew his eyes to Junko. She hadn't shifted to another set of strange mannerisms yet, watching them all from an angle as she faced away, and the only movement he could see was the rapid tap tap tap of her nail against the throne. Her eyes didn't so much as flicker around the circle, fixed on the empty air in the center of the room, but he couldn't doubt that she saw each of them all too clearly.
"Well, look at that. I guess the rest of the class has been gossiping behind our backs." She might have been making observations about the weather, for all the weight lacking in her words. "Should've expected it, really, when they all hid away from our cameras. I mean, what's the point of being all sneaky like that if you're not gonna make use of it?"
Naegi only had time to blink once before understanding hit him. Jill knew about the Tragedy — and she must have realized the others didn't. And if Byakuya asked, she would have told him anything he wanted to know.
No — make that almost anything. If Jill cared about Byakuya even half as much as she claimed, there was one thing about the Tragedy that she wouldn't have shared with him. Naegi could still remember the look in Byakuya's eyes when the Togami family fell.
And even as he thought it, a smile curled across Junko's face. "But I wonder — just how much do you all really know?"
Schedule Note: And now we'll be back on the previous schedule of a new chapter every other Sunday. Thank you for your patience with this - I'm doing my best to balance everything on my plate. I hope everyone reading this is safe, well, and happy!
