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[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.]

[Togami was about to unload some un-asked for wisdom about death and the impermanence of existence (or something on that vein, it's always hard to follow what Togami is talking about), but every thought appears to leave his mind as soon as Naegi has his...unforfunate mishap.

And then he laughs.

Almost predictably, it's an unpleasant sound, high and grating and not especially unlike some hostile bird, but it's a laugh nonetheless, and a less evil one than usual, which is its own achievement. He covers his mouth with a hand, though it hardly does anything to help.]

You're absolutely pathetic, you know.

[It is absolutely nothing like the only other time he's heard Togami laugh. It's far from calculated. It's sharp, and it's awful on his ears.

Naegi commits it to memory.

He wipes his face clean with his sleeve, embarrassment and insult blunted by what that genuine laugh has him feeling.]

C-come on! It's not like I drink this stuff a lot!

[Togami hides his crooked smile--his imperfect laugh--behind a hand, forcing himself back into a neutral expression, or at least a convincing facsimile of one. He can't quite get it down, though, and so his scathing speech is delivered with a tremulous tone as he tries very, very hard not to laugh again.

He's cold, and apathetic, and possibly the devil, but he's still a teenager-of-sorts, no matter how grown he acts.]

That's no excuse. It's not even that strong. I've been drinking heavier liquor since I was twelve.

[Not...exactly something to be proud of, but he says it like it is.]

[It's incredibly delightful to invoke this sort of reaction in Togami, specifically. Naegi doesn't have past experiences to draw from, so he can't be entirely sure, but it sure as hell sounds like he's still trying not to laugh again. The smile on Naegi's face is a mile wide, and there's no hand attempting to hide it.

That concerning comment doesn't even kill it. Most twelve year olds don't drink heavy liquor! He knows that, right?]

Whether or not it's strong doesn't matter, if I'm not used to it like you!

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