heirdisqualification | ic inbox

[Ah man, isn't Togami being really harsh? Naegi just sighs and shakes his head--

Oh. Maybe he was just... worried? Maybe Togami was just a little bit worried. Naegi pauses halfway up the stairs to turn and look at him. It feels really strange to be at an even height. His expression is solemn.]

I'll make sure to come back earlier from now on.

[Naegi doesn't have to speculate on whether or not Togami was worried: it's written all over his face in a knit brow and wide eyes, a quiet amount of concern that should have gone unseen. He quickly collects himself, though, nodding in recognition.]

That would be appreciated. At least know how to get here if you insist on...late-night shopping sprees, or whatever it was you were doing.

[It really surprises him. It's not often Togami's emotions are painted on his face. Naegi doesn't know about to feel about it, so he shoves it away for now.]

That really isn't what I was doing! I just thought I could get back by myself... but it kept getting later and later.

[How does one person wander around for that long. How is it feasible. What was he even doing? Leaving these mysteries and more up for debate, Naegi finishes climbing the stairs and empties out the contents of the bag.]

Since you're up, do you want something to eat? I missed dinner, so...

Edited 2017-03-25 10:51 (UTC)

Sure, whatever you say. I don't know what you could be doing in a city this small.

[Togami quickly beelines to an armchair, where it's clear he's been settled for the past few hours with a blanket and a book, taking no time in rearranging his various long limbs to fit within the confines of the chair.]

I've eaten.

[A lie, but a smooth one.]

Not everyone's on the same nonsensical schedule you are, Naegi.

Well, there's a lot of new things to see.

[Naegi takes it for the truth it appears to be, and doesn't bother to respond to the jab. Well. Out loud, anyway.

Like he's one to talk about nonsensical schedules...!

He hums as he prepares the food, and it's not long before the small space is filled with the smell of it. There is... definitely more than enough for one person. He kinda got carried away.]

Um, Togami-kun...

[By the time Naegi has finished cooking his meal-for-one-and-a-half, Togami has thoroughly engrossed himself in a book ominously labeled "KNIFE SKILLS", looking more cozy than he's possibly ever looked in his entire life. It's odd, having someone around to witness his usually private mannerisms--not quite uncomfortable, but far from ideal.

He eventually looks up from the pages, squinting at Naegi from across the room.]

Yes?

Would you like something to eat anyway?

[He holds up two plates piled with what is likely half of the shopping: fried eggs, bacon, fried tomato, mushrooms...]

[Oh. His lie is swiftly becoming harder to maintain in the face of an actual hot, fresh meal cooked by someone with relative competence, if his wide eyes are any indication. Dinner? Real, existing dinner? Someone made him dinner?]

...No.

[Can't look needy, after all.]

I told you. I ate.

I know, but I really can't eat all this alone. It'll just go to waste, otherwise.

[He's looking down at the food as he speaks, but when Naegi looks up, he notices those wide eyes. Isn't this sort of weird? Togami seems to reluctant to say no, but he can't think of any reason he'd have to lie.

Mm.]

Please? I know it's a pain.

[Naegi is not nearly as good an actor, but it's not as though concern is hard to fake right now.]

I hate repeating myself, Naegi. I also hate repeating my meals.

[Togami frowns, glancing away from the plates of food, back to his book. It barely registers with him that Naegi is concerned, or even that Naegi may be offended or otherwise hurt by his rejection. It rarely occurs to him that people have feelings at all, really--himself included.]

Put it in a container and in the icebox--it'll keep. If you're really that keen on eliminating food waste, I mean.

[He feels... weirdly disappointed. Not because Togami is refusing what he's made, but because he's clearly failed at discerning whatever was happening, here. It does hurt. The nervous smile drops from his face.]

Right...

[He boxes up the spare food quickly and quietly, and curls up in a nearby armchair to scarf down the rest. It isn't long before he's yawning through mouthfuls of food.]

[Having avoided that particular glimmer of charity, Togami settles back down with renewed confidence in his avoidance abilities and a growing pit in the bottom of his stomach entirely unrelated to not having eaten. Not that he's saying it's guilt, or anything. Byakuya Togami does not feel guilt.

But he does feel fatigue, particularly when someone else is nodding off in his periphery.]

...Put that plate aside before you fall asleep in it.

[Naegi answers with an entirely impossible to understand mumble, and follows Togami's advice.

Barely a minute passes before he's snoring, head tilted uncomfortably to the side, and knees tucked up against the armrest.

Seems someone's late night wanderings really took it out of them.]

[Togami knew Naegi was falling asleep, but instantaneous seems far too fast, even for someone as emotionally capricious (read as: emotionally literate in any way, ever) as him. He'd be lying if he said it didn't surprise him, and he'd also be lying if he said it didn't offend him.

(After all, Naegi was talking to him. Sort of. He doesn't want to be talked to, but he wants his talking to be acknowledged.)

Sighing, he places his book on a table and his glasses on top of it, curling up in a similar fashion. He could walk the ten or so feet to his bedroom, but...nope, too late. He's out.]

[Naegi grows just a little restless, at first. His leg twitches. He curls up tight, and then stretches out again. It's no big deal. Not enough to wake anyone up.

It's as he slips into a deeper sleep that things quickly sour. Maybe it's sleeping in an unfamiliar place that brings back certain feelings, or maybe there's no decent explanation for it at all. It's just time, says the nightmare tugging at his tense body.]

[He's useless. Tied down, frozen in place and moments away from being ground into sludge. They're all going to die, and he can't do anything about it.

Asahina, Hagakure, Fukawa, Kirigiri, Togami, Koma-

Komaru. Komaru, stock still and silent behind a stand. He can't see her eyes, but he knows she's watching him. Watching him die. He screams, he kicks, he thrashes, and suddenly, everything is coming undone, but he isn't free.

He's falling.

He gasps for air, but it feels like his throat is stuck, unable to take it in. He's going to suffocate. He claws at his throat, mouth opening and closing uselessly, and the great, empty ground is suddenly rushing up to meet him.

Naegi's still shouting when he wakes up.]

[Nightmares have been a part of Togami's life just as long as his life has been the stuff of nightmares--awful, unspeakable dreams about things better left in sleep, so much so that an avoidance of sleep altogether is nothing more than a slight inconvenience rather than a debilitating harm. He knows nightmares. He knows nightmares better than anyone.

Still, nothing quite prepares him to hear his housemate screaming bloody murder.

He jolts to his feet before he's quite awake, following the sound, narrowly avoiding catching his ankle on the chair, shaking Naegi awake with an odd insistence.]

Get up--Naegi, get up, are you dying--

[In the space between being asleep and being awake, he doesn't have room to pretend not to be concerned, a horrible edge of panic creeping into his voice. Pathetic. More than pathetic, really--he's empathetic.]

[His breathing is rapid, and his eyes are wide and unfocused. Naegi gulps down air like it's his last chance. Like the loss of it wasn't just in his mind.]

Togami?

[How did he get into his room? What-

For a sickening, gut wrenching second, he forgot they weren't there anymore. Naegi shudders, hands instinctively coming up to grasp at the arms that shook him.]

I'm fine. I'm alright.

[It's hard to tell who he's trying to convince.]

[Without his glasses, Togami looks more his age, particularly in a darkened room with nothing to harshen the lines of his face or twist his mouth into that unpleasant frown. It's difficult to gauge exactly what's on his mind, but, knowing Togami, it's probably nothing good.]

You're not.

[He doesn't make an effort to move, simply studying Naegi with an uncritical eye.]

I have some whiskey above the stove. It helps enough.

[There's no clarification needed as to how he's aware of this fact--it's obvious. More than obvious, it's implicit in his tone and words, in his oddly lucid gaze that suggests he might not have been asleep at all.]

[Dazed as he is, Naegi doesn't miss the implication that Togami sounds like he knows what he's talking about. The thought of him experiencing similar dreams twists Naegi's mouth into an unpleasant grimace.]

Wh-whiskey?

[He sounds unsure. Not doubtful, though. For some reason, he finds it helps to keep his eyes locked on Togami's, bright and awake as they are. Grounding.]

Not particularly good whiskey, but it does its job well enough.

[Togami stays put a few moments more, quietly living in the shared contact, before detaching himself entirely to go pursue the mentioned whiskey. His movements are fluid but careful, the cautious dance of someone who has certainly misplaced his glasses.]

...It's bad.

[He doesn't specify what--for all it seems, he's just talking about the alcohol being tipped into two cups--but his voice indicates a kind of deeper solidarity, even if he's bad at conveying comfort.]

[Naegi takes a moment to suck in a few deep, much calmer breaths. He runs his fingers over the textured lines of the armchair. He's awake, again.

...Ah. Maybe Togami is not the best at relaying empathy, but that's alright. It doesn't need to be skillful to be kind, and appreciated. Naegi looks at him with wide eyes, quickly filling with warmth. He stumbles right past any pretense that Togami is just talking about the alcohol, although he doesn't mind if Togami wants to insist that's all he meant.]

Yeah. Thank you for waking me up.

It wasn't a service to you--you were moving about so much that I was concerned you were about to pitch yourself back down the stairs. I've seen enough bodies to last me a lifetime.

[Several lifetimes, if he were being more honest in his superbly flimsy excuse. Even beyond the killing game, his intense interest in crime coupled with some events of extreme childhood trauma have saturated him in so much death that he almost smells of it, like a vulture retaining the stench of carrion.

He sits back down after handing off a half-filled glass to Naegi, hands awkwardly fiddling with his own.]

I get the impression that you have, as well.

[It's mocking, nearly, because Naegi remains so outwardly naïve after everything he's seen, but Togami knows when someone is close to cracking.]

[He's more alert and capable of thinking critically now, and the moment Togami woke him is still fresh in his mind. He can see the panic. Hear it, clearly.

Are you dying.

He feels poorly for worrying him, even as Togami insists the opposite is true. Something like fire settles in his eyes as the other boy continues to talk, and that serious voice emerges. That one that belongs to courtrooms and investigations.]

Yes. I never want to see another friend die again.

[And then he takes a gulp of the whiskey without thinking about it too hard, and promptly spits it up on himself, gasping and coughing.]

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