Tw/Cw: Blood, self-harm
Dead silence for almost two hours. Sakakura was debating how many ways he could die by the inevitable betrayal by the remnants of despair. He was snapped out of it along with everyone else's thoughts when a loud crackling came from across the room. The mechanical arm, taken off a while before, was sparking and sizzling. People came running into the room surrounding the object. Instinctively, Sakakura got up and tried to walk towards it as well, yelling curses. But Asahina stepped in front of him and held him back, purely by the element of surprise. He fell back to the bed, too dizzy to try again. Eventually, the majority of them left, leaving a robotic prosthetic arm, over half completely charred.
"What happened?" He shot out weakly. One of the leftover faceless workers replied.
"We aren't sure yet. Something exploded obviously, so we're taking it apart to find out."
"Jesus Christ that could have killed me! Again!"
"But it didn't! At least there's that!" He glared at Asahina who let her awkward laughter fade away. Sakakura sighed and laid back down, feeling majorly dizzy again.
"So, like, should we start building a new one?"
"Great idea for once Hiro!"
"Hey!"
"No thank you." They all looked at him, who crossed his one arm... and would be crossing the other if it were there.
"B-but you need-"
"I said no thanks. I don't want that to happen again."
"But the operation will be done when it's ready! So it won't-"
"Do you not realize this means there's probably another rat in our midst??"
"Hey! Soda still looked at it! And Tsumiki saw you a few times! They could've done it!"
"And what if they didn't huh? Then how much trouble would we be in?"
"Ah... well..." Asahina looked at the ground.
"Exactly. We need to start a new search as soon as Togami is back. No arm 'til then."
"What if we make it for you?" He narrowed his eyes, at first to look at them, then realizing how tired he was.
"Thanks, but no thanks. Just because we got out of that game doesn't mean I trust any of you."
"Well, we have to do something..." he blinked profusely as he realized the sides of his vision were going blurry. That explosion must have caused something... Right?
"......Munakata... can... make it..." he registered Asahina saying that was ridiculous before calling out for him, but it was too late already.
- - - - - -
"The hell is that noise??" Munakata walked up to the group surrounding the cell door.
"It's not unlocking sir!"
"What do you mean?"
"We've tried everything!"
"For goodness sake! He pushed the others aside and pulled out his sword. The noise stopped and there was a loud thud from inside. He quickly sliced a hole barely big enough to get his hand through. With some effort, he reached the doorknob and it turned effortlessly. He pushed open, hand still through the door. The workers ran past. When they gasped he stopped catching his breath and looked over. All he could see was a fresh splash of red on the wall. In a panic, he ripped his arm out, scraping himself on the metal.
"Go get Naegi an-" he tuned out completely to the instructions given to those around him as he collapsed to the ground.
"Chisa!!" The others made room for him as they talked on their walkie-talkies or went for first aid kits. She was passed out, still chained by her ankle to the wall, and had a huge bruise on her head. Actually, the bruise was the least of it. Her forehead was bloody, dripping down her face. She was still breathing and had a pulse though. He let out a sigh of relief and stood up to let the returning workers get started. He walked up to the blood splatter on the wall. Sure enough, it was just below his head. Exactly where Chisa would be standing.
"Sir, we think she-"
"I'm not stupid. I'm sure this red stain on the wall was just ketchup that she happened to repeatedly throw against the wall until it burst!"
"...sorry Sir." He let out an aggravated sigh going back to the splatter. He only looked for a few seconds before he decided he had enough. Naegi's voice cut through just in time as well. He walked towards the door and stopped Naegi in his tracks.
"...come on." He stepped into an empty room.