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Makoto woke up to...pain, mostly. Pain...everywhere, really, but mostly in his leg. Damn, it really hurt. Shaking his head, Makoto tried to sit up and take in his surroundings. He assumed that the mini school set he had fallen down with broke on the collision with the garbage in what appeared to be the school’s basement.
Makoto Naegi set to work doing his best to explore the vast room about him, minus a leg, an arm, and the trust he once had in his friends.
It was dark, and, as he soon discovered, filled with rotten food. How all of this food that was seemingly never used was completely bad, he didn’t know, but there didn’t appear to be any water, either. He curled up on a smaller, softer pile of trash and looked up towards what he hoped was the ceiling.
He had put all of his faith into Kirigiri. Even when the odds were against her he held the hope in his heart that she truly did nothing wrong. And yet...she allowed this to happen. She claimed that he was the killer. Makoto was sure she had a plan, but...
That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. His heart aching with what felt like betrayal and his head throbbing with fever, Makoto Naegi fell into a fitful sleep.
When Makoto woke up for the second time, he couldn’t feel his leg. Well, he began to think, at least it doesn’t hurt anymore! He did not desire to look at what he was sure would be a gnarly wound with a nasty infection. He wanted to conserve what little was left in his stomach, thank you very much. Further inspection of himself and his body left him noticing his eyes feeling wet and tired. If he had cried in his sleep, then truly no one would know. Each breath he took felt like an ache in his lungs, and he coughed to try and clear them of the phlegm left behind from his pre-trial sickness that didn’t seem to have completely left. Of course, this should have been no surprise, considering he was known to his meaner schoolmates as “weak immunity Naegi”, or something equally as stupid he didn’t care to remember.
He had no way to tell the time that had passed and silently wondered if anyone was coming to save him-if they even knew he was there. Each second felt like eons and Makoto felt his consciousness slipping as his head slowly fell back onto the heap of trash below him.
This cycle did not continue for long, however. By the 4th or 5th time Makoto Naegi found himself rising from his dozing, he heard a noise. He couldn’t be bothered to lift his pounding head, merely turned his eyes towards where the sound was coming from. If he really concentrated, he could see what appeared to be a figure. They had a dark form-possibly purple? Almost like...
“Kirigiri...” Makoto found himself mumbling, his mouth quirking upwards against his will. Despite everything, he couldn’t really bring himself to be mad at her. If this was her. Anger solved nothing, after all, and whatever she did, he was sure she had good reasoning if she had come here to his aid.
-oooooooo-
Kyoko Kirigiri found herself in the clutter that was the basement. Thanks to Alter Ego, Naegi had been saved, and she could reveal the secrets behind this rotten scheme cooked up by Monokuma and the Mastermind.
Kyoko always had preferred to have her metaphorical cake and eat it, too. Metaphorically. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad, however. Naegi hadn’t deserved that execution. It was meant for her. It was cruel for him to be forced so needlessly to go through something like this, and the fact that she couldn’t protect her closest friend was almost too hard to bear.
That’s why she was here right now, she supposed. A bag filled with small snacks, some medical supplies, and a water bottle in her hand as she traversed through the foul-smelling catacombs on the hunt for her dear friend. She would make it up to him, no matter how long it took. She owed her life to Naegi, and she intended to let him know that she would never betray his trust again.
She had spent nearly an hour searching the dump around her before she managed to crawl through an especially rotten pile of absolute garbage that led her to what almost appeared to be a small clearing. In the middle of this clearing, on a small pile of junk, lay a boy. From the boy’s lips, came a name whispered so quiet she almost hadn’t heard it said at all; almost never realized he had even been alive in that pile he had decided to make his resting place.
Her dearest, closest friend had certainly seen some better days. The pang in her heart, in her mind, went ignored by Kyoko as she set to stumbling her way towards Makoto Naegi’s frail form. It couldn’t have been long he was down here, but she could remember Naegi seeming feverish the night before the trial. She had thought he was fine afterward, but she had been wrong. No matter-merely another thing she had to ignore until she could get him out of the basement and back to the nurse’s office. He would be fine. Kyoko would make sure he was fine.
“That is correct, Naegi. I’m here to rescue you. Can you sit up?”
He didn’t respond vocally, which didn’t seem like the best sign, but Naegi did attempt to sit himself up. She sat next to him to aid in his attempts and gently handed him the bottle of water, which he gratefully took and began to drink. This seemed like a good sign. Hopefully, with water in his system, his fever would go down some. While he was busy getting himself one of the small muffins Kyoko brought, she took the time to take in his outward appearance. His hair was greasy and matted, his ahoge drooping pathetically. His eyes were dull and puffy, and his face was red and tired. One arm appeared to be broken, and he angled it in towards himself as if trying to protect it. Taking a look at his leg was something Kyoko soon deeply regretted. It was foul and looked agonizing. She couldn’t stop blaming herself.
It was saddening to see someone so normally bright so abnormally...pitiful. That was really the only way it could be described. Kyoko felt her heart clench once more with guilt.
“Naegi, we need to get you out of here. However, the only exit that I am aware of is from the ladder a bit away from here. I can patch up your wounds, but do you think yourself capable of climbing such a large height?”
-oooooooo-
The first thing Makoto felt once he finally had something in his stomach was overwhelmed. He was still exhausted, still in pain, but at least he knew he wouldn’t die down here all alone. It was a thought that shouldn’t have been as comforting as it had to be. He took relief in the small things sometimes, he supposed.
Once Kirigiri asked him about the ladder, it took him a moment to really process her question. He shrugged, looking dazedly to the side.
“I can’t feel my leg, and I can barely feel my arm, Kirigiri. However, that just means I probably won’t feel the pain from climbing!” He chuckled to himself and offered her his mangled arm, which the taller promptly began to bandage. Once she was finished with his arm, he noticed her take a sharp breath and begin to work on his leg. He pointedly looked anywhere but at her work. He didn’t want to know how bad it was. Not yet.
When Kirigiri had finished, she fished a stick out from under some piles of soggy paper and handed it to him.
“For the trek to the ladder,” she had stated. It was then that Makoto pointed out the container of noodles on her head, chuckling to himself as she swiped it away.
This began their journey. Makoto did his best to persevere through the long walk, no matter how hard it became. Even when his vision grew dark and his leg slipped from under him, he couldn’t give up the hope he had to see his friends and finally finish this game. He would make it out of here.
Despite her offers, Makoto refused to allow Kirigiri to attempt and carry him up the ladder. She may have been strong, but he didn’t want to risk the chance of both of them falling to their doom. He just had to hope for the best! And hope he did, as they began to climb. Already his arms were tired and his leg had nearly given out, though they had just barely started. Other than that, things were going fairly well!
And of course, Makoto had to jinx it, didn’t he? A few moments after thinking that, his injured arm slipped, and he nearly plummeted the huge drop below. When he managed to keep himself on the ladder, he needed to still for a moment to calm his racing heart. He really couldn’t take so many dances with Death so close together. Luckily, this was the last mishap, and the two of them managed to reach the surface without much more hassle. After what had to have been at least a day, Makoto was shockingly relieved to see the familiar halls of the school-and also to smell the clean, clear air that surrounded him. Small miracles.
-oooooooo-
Hina was the first to greet the two of them when they got back, tightly wrapping her arms around Makoto in a warm embrace. He let himself be dragged into the hug, eyes watering. His friends hadn’t trusted him-had almost killed him. He was almost certain that Hina still didn’t fully trust that he wasn’t a killer. But at this point, she was willing to look past that fact and see that Kirigiri had brought him back for a reason, and even beyond that; she was relieved her friend was okay.
Makoto Naegi simply didn’t have enough time. There was no chance to heal his wounds or rest his fever away. They still had one final trial to go through, at it was already clear Monokuma-the Mastermind-wasn’t playing fair. The best Makoto could get was a makeshift cast for his arm and a crutch to help attempt to balance his walking before they had to get back to work.
He...didn’t really know what the future would bring. But he had hope, and he wanted rest, and he had his friends by his side, so he was sure everything would be okay. He could get through it.