[No response. But perhaps to Dylan's surprise, the door opens a crack at his knock—despite all appearances, it wasn't actually locked.
Inside, it's dark. A shape, probably Yasu, is huddled up inside a bundle of blankets so bulky that it completely obscures her frame. The blankets tremble slightly when the knock first resounds, then flinch away when Dylan comes in, hoarsely whispering,]
Don't... don't look at me.
[On the ground, there are more strands of lackluster gold hair, and an unfolded paper crane off to the side.]
no subject
Inside, it's dark. A shape, probably Yasu, is huddled up inside a bundle of blankets so bulky that it completely obscures her frame. The blankets tremble slightly when the knock first resounds, then flinch away when Dylan comes in, hoarsely whispering,]
Don't... don't look at me.
[On the ground, there are more strands of lackluster gold hair, and an unfolded paper crane off to the side.]