Summary: The battle's over, but the war's barely begun.
He didn't quite know how long the duo sat there, injured and weary. It took more effort than he currently possessed in order to even keep his body upright, much less check the clock tucked away somewhere outside of his peripheral view. Ogami was clearly better off, despite looking more like a wreck than he currently viewed. She had finally pulled the knife he used to disable one of her arms, firmly tying what he assumed was what she used to wrap her forearms with around the wound as a form of makeshift first-aid. Coughing slightly and spitting aside the blood pooling in his mouth, Naegi half-heartedly propped himself up against a nearby wall, kicking the knife lying just outside of his reach into his grasp. Flipping it over, he tucked the weapon away, cold steel oddly comforting against his side despite the chance of a self-inflicted injury with the most minute of missteps. With his bat currently missing in action and a pretty low likelihood of it being returned to him in the near future, a hidden blade could spell the difference between life and death. It would've certainly been a hell of a lot easier to save his own skin if he had met Ogami with a baseball bat to the face.
Rolling his shoulders, the Luckster winced slightly at the way his muscles protested at the normally suppressable tugging sensation, and a sore spot near his midsection made itself known quite clearly when he pressed it gently. Well, judging by the way breathing was still manageable and he wasn't seeing black spots in his vision, he somehow managed to avoid any major injuries. Despite the serious nature of the situation, a light-hearted laugh bubbled up from the depths of his chest, a short series of chortles that drew a curious look from the girl who nearly succeeded in killing him before Naegi managed to stifle the giggling fit that had overwhelmed him temporarily. Well then. That was certainly something. Leaning back, he sighed at the comforting sensation of metal against his aching head, swaying to one side before stopping himself from falling over completely.
"Naegi." He glanced up, a dark thrill humming pleasantly in his veins at the sight of the bruised and battered classmate that had dared to try and murder him. Pushing that feeling back down to the deepest recesses of his mind, the Luckster gestured absentmindedly for her to continue. "Are you…alright?" Wow, they were both equally socially awkward, huh. Angling his body to better face the Ultimate Martial Artist, he gave her the most deadpan look he could muster while fatigue tugged at his willpower, raising his broken wrist as an example of how not fine he currently was. She flinched, a flicker of guilt crossing her face before it was replaced by a sort of cool apathy mixed with determination.
The Luckster startled when his wannabe murderer got to her feet, blood trickling from the various wounds all over her body as she assumed a textbook dogenza position, head pressed firmly against the floor. A startled cry nearly escaped his throat before he clamped down on it, choosing instead to thoroughly engrave the sight within his mind. Wasn't everyday you had arguably The Strongest Person In The World kneeling before you, and he didn't think anyone else had the (mis)fortune of encountering this scene after somehow managing to beat her in a fight. Still, it was only polite to say something, especially since it was really awkward. "You don't have to—"
"No, I must." Ogami lifted her head up slightly to display a pair of earnest eyes. "Even after I chose to protect my family members and dojo over the life of someone who has done nothing but fight against the one who put us here, you showed mercy after beating me. You were right earlier, how can I call myself the Ultimate Martial Artist after what I've done? What I tried to do?"
He swallowed slightly, toying with the words lingering in his throat before tossing away the cruel knee-jerk response that would have escaped if he was a more malicious individual. "I can understand your motives, even if I don't particularly agree with them." And I chose to stand and fight the Mastermind, rather than bow my head and live on my knees , went unsaid. "Besides, I can't exactly condemn you for that." He shut his eyes, the corpses of his classmates flickering across his mind, reminders of his past failures. "Not when it pushed two of the people we knew to murder."
"Besides," a somewhat sardonic smile slid onto his face as he shrugged, the lie slipping from his mouth as naturally as putting on a coat, "you didn't kill me in the end, and I could've killed you while fighting back. That makes us even." He'd like to stay far, far away from the Martial Artist after this incident, thank you very much. The Luckster didn't think that he'd be up for round two anytime soon, especially with the long list of injuries he was currently toting around. He closed his eyes, concentrating on biting back the pain that was gleefully zipping through his nervous system. After days of being bruised and battered, old wounds were protesting and the latest ones weren't helping in the slightest.
The sounds of hushed conversation reached his overdialled senses, and Naegi's eyes immediately snapped back open along with a fresh rush of adrenaline. A single quiet swear slipped past his lips as blood continued to trickle from the stab wound in his leg . Nonetheless, ignoring the major internal trauma he had been unfortunate enough to experience, the Luckster grabbed onto the edge of the corner of the table he was propped up against, dragging himself to his feet. Swaying slightly, he palmed his latest weapon, carefully concealing it with a slight shift of his stance before staggering past the destruction left in the duo's wake.
A searing spike of pain punched a hole behind his eyes as Naegi reached the doorway, and the boy's knees buckled enough that he needed to hold onto something with a bloodstained hand in order to prevent himself from falling face first into the floor. Whoever was coming into the dining room probably saw it, considering the murmuring cut off as soon as his fingers curled around the wall. He swallowed slightly, ignoring the coppery taste that wouldn't quite disappear from his tongue as he made himself somewhat presentable.
Finally stepping through the entrance to the kitchen, he quickly clapped his free hand over an ear as a shrill scream rattled around his barely held together mental faculties. Leaning against the nearest surface so he didn't have to devote more of his brainpower to keeping both feet firmly planted on the ground, Naegi idly picked up his somewhat damaged hoodie while a series of horrified shouts and curses echoed throughout the previously empty room. Concealing his knife up a sleeve, the Lucky Student put on his jacket casually, adjusting the sleeves as he looked up to meet eyes with his classmates.
Asahina, Kirigiri and Fujisaki. The former's presence was somewhat surprising, but also reasonable considering that Ogami had probably been telling the truth about searching for her friend before noticing Naegi wandering around on his own like a complete idiot just begging to be killed. The Ultimate Swimmer looked like she had stumbled into the aftermath of a particularly violent crime scene, hands clapped over her mouth. As he angled his gaze to better meet her eyes, the normally boisterous girl took several steps back. He glanced down at himself. Oh right. That. Twisting a little to hide the bloodstained nature of his…everything, really, he raised a hand in the most awkward greeting possible.
"So—"
"What the hell, Naegi!" The Swimmer cut in before he could even get a word out, bouncing back quickly enough to jab at him with an accusing finger. "I knew that you were an asshole, but I didn't think that you'd kill someone!" Wow. He shoved down the slightest flicker of annoyance at the immediate accusation, carefully picking his words to set up the necessary steps towards damage control.
"Look." He sighed, turning his hands, palms facing upwards, to reveal the bruised and bleeding nature of his limbs. "I didn't kill anyone. In fact, your friend tried to kill me."
"Friend?" Kirigiri looked as unruffled as ever, the stone-cold two-faced teenager that she was. Her gaze sharpened, something akin to morbid interest dancing behind her eyes. "The only one who would fit that description…"
The Ultimate Swimmer blinked rapidly, taking several seconds to connect the dots before her face twisted into a snarl. "If you did anything to Sakura-chan, I swear—" Well, tit for tat and all that. Naegi raised a hand abruptly, the action halting her threat before it could actually leave her mouth. Was it double standards? If you placed the Luckster and the Martial Artist side by side, it was clear who had the advantage in a fight. Only someone truly desperate or confident in their own abilities would pick a fight with someone who could break them in two, both literally and figuratively. He quietly pushed down the small part of his mind which pointed out that he fit both those criteria.
"Ano…" Surprisingly, Fujisaki managed to get a word in before he could speak up for himself. The Ultimate Programmer trembled slightly like a startled rabbit when the center of attention immediately shifted to her. "I don't think Naegi-san is the type of person to…murder…someone else. Especially since his secret was already revealed to be something minor."
"What!?" Asahina clenched her fists, eyes darting angrily between the Programmer and the completely apathetic Luckster. "You'd take his side, even after all that he's done?"
"Shut up and think, for once in your life." He spat out the words before his brain could catch up to his mouth. She gasped, and even Kirigiri looked mildly taken aback by the sheer vitriol dripping from that sentence. Naegi sighed, a sliver of guilt lurking in the furthest recesses of his heart. Still, it was not nearly enough to snuff out the rage clinging to his thoughts, the indignation he was feeling. Saving people was a pretty thankless job, huh. "She's in the kitchen, so if you don't trust me, you can get the story from the one who tried to choke me to death."
Not even hesitating, Asahina rushed into the next room. He tuned out the beginnings of what was probably going to be a heated conversation, stumbling forward to perch somewhat casually on the destroyed remains of the table his back had been introduced to several minutes ago. Allowing a wry grin to flicker across his face, the boy propped up his chin with his non-broken hand, gesturing silently for the two remaining to get closer so he could actually hold a proper conversation with them.
"So…" He winced as a fresh lance of pain cheerfully plugged itself into his side. "What exactly brought you lot here. Bar the mess."
Kirigiri blinked once, before dragging a chair over for herself. Fujisaki repeated the action, albeit more timidly. "Asahina-san was searching for Ogami-san. Something about donuts…?" She shrugged, a hint of the confusion she was probably feeling leaking into her words. "And she was being rather noisy, so I tagged along to save myself the headache." Y'ouch, Kirigiri. That was as cold as a knife to the jugular.
"I saw…whatever happened in the dining room. Well, I came in for a snack and saw this—" Fujisaki glanced at the destroyed table, then the splintered chairs and finally what he hoped wasn't a crater where he was thrown into a wall. He tilted his head, peering bemusedly at the cracks in the cement. Huh. Maybe he needed to get his injuries checked out before he was paralysed from a messed up spine. That would be unpleasant, to say the least. "—and I wasn't going to check out who exactly caused it alone." Smart thinking. He grinned slightly at that, more than a little impressed at the almost sarcastic undertone to Fujisaki's words. She certainly looked a lot calmer than mere moments earlier. Interesting. Were all Ultimates just incredibly quick at bouncing back from traumatic events?
The trio flinched in unison as the voices in the next room dialled it up a notch. Well, that was certainly a conversation he wasn't going to be stepping into any time soon. He just escaped one near-death situation, no need to immediately place himself into another. Naegi glanced back, posture softening slightly as he noted the way Fujisaki's hands trembled. Briefly, he was reminded of the quiet dialogue they shared soon after the terrible aftermath of the first Class Trial. The small bit of comfort he drew from discussing the horror he felt so viscerally, especially at what was probably one of the darkest points in his short stint here. He resisted the urge to collapse. Had it really just been days since then? Running a hand down his face, Naegi took a second to pull himself back together. Now was not the time to fall apart.
"I'm guessing you two want to know what exactly occurred for me to end up looking like this." The Luckster couldn't hold back the chuckle at the simultaneous polite denials from his two classmates. It wasn't exactly anything that would've made him angry, especially with the very long list of reasons he did have to be mad. Kirigiri was still hovering somewhere near the top of his shit list, but she had definitely gone several ranks down by now. And considering he had lashed out with his hair-trigger temper following Kuwata's cruel execution, he could give her a pass…but he'd still watch for more attempts at manipulation. Unlike the rest of the Ultimates, he didn't know her Talent. He could guess, but it was still a point of suspicion.
Especially since she shared a surname with the headmaster of Hope's Peak Academy.
"Well, you'll have to get Ogami-san's motives from the lady herself, but the cliffnotes version is this." His mirth died quickly as they leaned in to discuss the Ultimate Martial Artist's betrayal. "Long story short, she's been acting as a spy for the Mastermind. Admitted it to me, in fact. I'm guessing her secret's exactly that, and she decided to kill the first person she could get her hands on to keep it that way."
"Unlikely." Kirigiri placed a hand on her chin, eyes flickering as the cogs in her brain roared to life. "There were far easier targets to go after."
"Easier targets?" He mused, poking gently at his wrist and the way it flopped according to gravity's will. "I was injured, tired and far weaker than she was. What easier target would there be?"
She gave him a searching gaze, and he resisted the urge to snap at her for the way it made him feel like a bug underneath a magnifying glass. He did not like being judged. "You really believe that." It was phrased like a statement, but he got the sense that there was a question tucked away in that subtext somewhere. "Regardless, she could've struck at a far more optimal time. Asahina-san trusts her unconditionally, so it would take less effort to kill her instead."
"...what is wrong with you?" There was something akin to rage dancing across Fujisaki's face, twisting the normally gentle features into a caricature of violence. "No one would kill their best friend!" He hid his instinctive skepticism at that. The Programmer had a point, after all. Emotions wre complicated, and even if Ogami was pressed into killing someone, she'd go after someone she had no attachments to.
"I apologise if my deductions upset you, but you cannot deny that it was a possibility she chose not to take." The enigmatic teenager looked the slightest bit remorseful, but it was quickly buried beneath professional apathy. "It's more likely that she chose to take out the biggest possible threat to her before her secret could be exposed."
"Biggest possible threat?" He scoffed, wincing as his tongue throbbed at the motion. "You're joking."
Kirigiri sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, an unprecedented show of emotion from someone with an exceptionally practiced poker face. "For someone who has achieved so much in such a short period of time, you really are blind to your own actions. Perhaps your Talent actually holds some merit."
"Oi." The Luckster was "oblivious", but he could tell when he was being mocked. "Are we going to have a civilised discussion, or can I just leave so that I can patch myself up?" That coaxed a startled laugh out of Fujisaki, before the two girls seemed to finally register the sheer amount of damage Naegi was currently weathering.
"...maybe we should actually get you treated." If his ears weren't ringing so hard, he could've sworn that Kirigiri was muttering the injuries he was dealing with. The Luckster shrugged, getting to his feet and nearly falling over if not for Fujisaki's immediate assistance. She struggled to support his weight, but managed to prop him up long enough for Naegi to regain his bearings. It was a lot easier when Kirigiri lifted his other arm, being careful enough to avoid his very broken wrist. He murmured his thanks. This was his life now, he supposed, being dragged around by a bunch of teenagers that outclassed him in every way, shape or form.
They barely made it down the hallway to…wherever it was, they were going before immediately running into Fukawa. The Writer looked distracted, and was certainly lost enough to crash into the slowly shambling trio. She startled, a clearly biting series of words on the tip of her tongue before she finally noticed the bloodstained boy.
A shriek pierced through the air, and he was half a step away from clapping a hand over her mouth to stop that infernal screeching when her eyes abruptly rolled backwards in their sockets. Before his brain could catch up with his actions, Naegi lunged forward to grab her by the collar, gently lowering her to the ground instead of the rapid descent that she was about to be introduced to. Sighing, he looked up at his two equally confused acquaintances. A sudden cacophony of doors slamming and footsteps against the ground indicated that more annoyances were about to show up soon.
Somehow, he figured that Monokuma was responsible for this.