Not Much of a Legacy (Kyouko Sakura)
|Not Much of a Legacy (Kyouko Sakura)|
|Date of Cutscene:||30 January 2016|
|Synopsis:||Kyouko sets her affairs in order, lest the worst occur.|
|Cast of Characters:||Kyouko Sakura|
Kyouko stands in her tiny apartment, looking around. It's clean- she's made the effort to put away her clothes (not that she has many, but even those usually managed to be strewn across the floor), clean all the dishes, even vacuum. The place looks good. "Can't leave a mess." She says to herself in a quiet tone, reaching out to adjust the hang of a picture on the wall. It's just some random picture of flowers that was there when she moved in. But she kinda likes it.
An hour or so ago she had taken the old lady who runs the P.M. Minimart to the train station. The two of them had locked the store down together after the evacuation orders had come down- it was as secure as it was going to get, the heavy anti-theft shutter pulled down tight and hopefully sturdy enough to keep even the high winds and debris from causing any damage. The old lady had said she could make it to the station herself, but Kyouko had insisted on going with her. When the old lady had tried to get Kyouko to come with her, the girl had simply smiled her lopsided smile and promised she'd catch the next one.
She had no intention of leaving Tokyo though. One way or another, she was going to stay and protect the life she had made here- as meager as it must seem to others. It was all she had, and more than she'd had in years. She wasn't about to let it go that easily.
She reaches up to the peg beside the door and pulls down her red and black coat, fingers taking a moment to trace over the soft fur around the hood. She had friends, people who cared about her. She had a home, as much as it was. She glanced over her shoulder into the tiny room again. Not much of a legacy. But it was hers. She swung the coat over her shoulders and pulled her arms into it, fastening it across her chest with the buttons.
One last glance is given back to the bedside table. There's a sealed envelope there with a name on the front. "Sayaka". Just in case Kyouko doesn't make it back. If she does, she'll burn it. The things inside it can wait. But there are things she wouldn't want to go unsaid because she did something dumb like going and getting killed. So she wrote them down just in case.
She reaches out for one last thing, pulling her hand back and opening it to look at the Grief Seed on her palm. It looks much like the several others already in her pocket, but it seems to pulse with a strange, sickly green light from its depths. She stares at it for a long moment, then puts it into a different pocket from the others.
"Not much of a legacy." She sighs to herself as she opens the door and steps out into the hallway. "But godammit, I did the best I could."
She locks the door and turns to walk down the hall, hands stuffed in pockets.