[ Atsushi is the last person Kyoko checks in in the end. He's the last person that she wants to talk to right now. There's still too much hurt, too much anger, too much resentment intermingling with adoration.
She doesn't want to know if he's still staying with a murderer. She doesn't want to know if he's gone. She doesn't want to know if he remembers her or has forgotten about her.
Most of all, she doesn't want to have to face the unwarranted kindness that he might show her. She doesn't want to deal with the relief or the worry that he might show - undeserved care, directed at a monster who's only purpose is to kill things. Undeserved worry for somebody who let him die to save their own skin. For somebody so pathetic, so weak, so worthless.
But eventually she does, for reasons that she can't quite be honest about. Because she can't stop thinking about it. It rolls around in her head over and over again while she lays in her empty bed in her empty room in her empty house.
So in the middle of the night Atsushi will get a very simple text from a username: ]
yo
[ Then, a few seconds later: ]
you up
[ There's a quiet relief and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when the text doesn't bounce back. ]
[Since waking up to the new hellscape of Deerington, Atsushi had been caught in a whirlwind of concerns. He hadn't had time to check the list of residents and notice new arrivals. And deep down, he hadn't wanted to. Seeing new faces stuck in this nightmare made his gut twist. Not seeing the old faces did exactly the same. He wasn't sure how to feel anymore. It was too complicated, too hard, and much easier to push aside.
Seeing a once missing name reappear brought those complex feelings forward again.
'Be happy they aren't here anymore.' That's how he had coped with Kyoko abruptly vanishing before. It was a band aid for the wounded state their relationship had been in; A way to forgive himself. Seeing her username again, all of the awkwardness and misery hits him hard.
He doesn't respond right away. It takes him a while to realize this is real and not another one of this nightmare's games.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text; un: livingfree
She doesn't want to know if he's still staying with a murderer. She doesn't want to know if he's gone. She doesn't want to know if he remembers her or has forgotten about her.
Most of all, she doesn't want to have to face the unwarranted kindness that he might show her. She doesn't want to deal with the relief or the worry that he might show - undeserved care, directed at a monster who's only purpose is to kill things. Undeserved worry for somebody who let him die to save their own skin. For somebody so pathetic, so weak, so worthless.
But eventually she does, for reasons that she can't quite be honest about. Because she can't stop thinking about it. It rolls around in her head over and over again while she lays in her empty bed in her empty room in her empty house.
So in the middle of the night Atsushi will get a very simple text from a username: ]
yo
[ Then, a few seconds later: ]
you up
[ There's a quiet relief and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when the text doesn't bounce back. ]
no subject
Seeing a once missing name reappear brought those complex feelings forward again.
'Be happy they aren't here anymore.' That's how he had coped with Kyoko abruptly vanishing before. It was a band aid for the wounded state their relationship had been in; A way to forgive himself. Seeing her username again, all of the awkwardness and misery hits him hard.
He doesn't respond right away. It takes him a while to realize this is real and not another one of this nightmare's games.]
Yeah.
Are you okay?