You Don’t Know Anything
Next morning, Homura was gone.
Only hazy, drunken memories of their night were left.
Well, there was one other thing. Although the clothing he'd tossed aside had otherwise vanished, that grey hoodie remained. It was neatly folded on the corner of a very messy bed. Two bits of paper were with the hoodie; one half-inside the pocket, one folded neatly on top of it. The one on top was a note, unsigned and undated. The handwriting was neat.
"One day soon, you're going to make a critical decision. When you get there, please remember one thing. You're beautiful how you are. Don't try to change for anybody, even if the world feels like it's ending around you. If you change, you'll lose everyone and everything you care for."
The second paper revealed itself when unrolled and smoothed out. It was a sketch of Homura himself. Of course, they'd only met that night, and Yukiko was too busy drinking and fucking to take even a messy sketch. Yet, it sure seemed like Yukiko's own style; same paper, same penciling, and in a similar style to sketches of a certain jock that could be found lying about.
Yukiko had even, apparently, signed and dated it as St. Valentine's Day. Although right under it was, also in her messy handwriting, 'I think, like it fucking matters, just take the gift you nerd.'