It has been a few days after their last encounter, and Akechi is still not too sure what to make out of it. First of all, that he revealed too much to a complete stranger. There was no way to silence or erase this fact, booming loudly inside his mind. He shifts on the bed, recalling somewhat bitterly what happened when he came home that day.
Shutting himself inside his room was easy, but processing everything that happened when his brain was still racing and his body desperately wanted to rebel against it was something else.
At least two weeks passed quietly. Part of him insisted that this was fine, seeking to reconcile with someone who upset you so was not necessary. But still.
He couldn’t simply forget. Even if she did not mean to cause this, Heysel said the truth. That he might enjoy things at this place, no matter how fleeting they were. It takes more effort than he wants to acknowledge to hold his holophone and not simply let the matter drop and avoid her for the rest of his stay.
Not cowardice, but self-preservation. He tabs over to his contacts, and spends a few minutes mulling over wording. What could he say. He also wonders if it is far too early in the morning to just go ahead and text people. While biting his lips, he curses quietly under his breath and just decides to go for it.
TO: Yellowfinger Heysel
FROM: Akechi Goro
[msg] Good morning, miss Heysel. I hope you have been doing well.
[msg] I would like to apologize for taking so long to reach out to you. Things have been quite busy, and I simply could not find the time to do so. But there is something else I want to talk about.
There is a slight pause between the next few messages, again debating if he should say something or not. Honestly, why should he apologize for being hurt? If there is something he has learned, it was that people never apologized when they were in the wrong. They let the other party do it first. Unsurprisingly, it happened again. And less shocking was that he knew exactly what to say.
[msg] About our last meeting. I reacted badly, and I hope it is not too late to make amends. I am used to the unusual becoming the norm, but the harsh reality of this place caught up to me in probably what would seem the worst timing ever in history.
[msg] I am truly sorry.
He taps he back of his phone for a few seconds, shifting around enough to just decide to sit before sending his final message. If possible, he’d ask her to just forget everything she witnessed. Forget about his real self. It was much easier to pretend.
But this time he follows her advice, in a sense. He just hits the ‘send’ button on his final message and hopes for the best.
[msg] I hope we can still be friends.