[He jerks his head up, staring at her—or through her, maybe. It takes all of the focus of his will to look right at her face and see it for what it is, let her words reach him . . . his head feels like it's swimming. Maybe it's full of blood, just like a bag of some sort, with holes stabbed in it, and as soon as he opens his mouth to answer, that's what will come out, just blood and more blood—maybe his cheeks and eyes are wet with it right now. He blinks hard and half expects his field of vision to go red.
But it doesn't, just blurring with tears instead, and what comes out of his mouth is actually:]
What?! Whaaaa . . . what . . . ?
[Not the most eloquent he's ever been, but a part of him is surprised he even managed words, and isn't entirely sure they even came from his own lips. It feels like he's somewhere else.]
Inaba—?
[But there's one thing: he's looking at her now, not the mirrors. All at once, it feels like he's standing in a room with a girl he knows, not strung up to a pole—the drop back into reality comes to him slowly, but surely.
He hasn't even managed to parse yet that she said Monokuma's name, but the knowledge is there waiting, in the back of his head.]
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But it doesn't, just blurring with tears instead, and what comes out of his mouth is actually:]
What?! Whaaaa . . . what . . . ?
[Not the most eloquent he's ever been, but a part of him is surprised he even managed words, and isn't entirely sure they even came from his own lips. It feels like he's somewhere else.]
Inaba—?
[But there's one thing: he's looking at her now, not the mirrors. All at once, it feels like he's standing in a room with a girl he knows, not strung up to a pole—the drop back into reality comes to him slowly, but surely.
He hasn't even managed to parse yet that she said Monokuma's name, but the knowledge is there waiting, in the back of his head.]