The announcement about being able to return home for a small section of time wasn’t all that interesting to Sigma at first. After all, his brother’s were horribly rude and picked on him (even if now he was taller and stronger than them just by a bit) and his parents liked to nitpick at everything he did. But after some thought about how when he got sent back, out of this city, he would be living on the moon for forty-five years…
Well it was enough to change his mind to decide to go and see his family one last time.
However before he left, he realized this visit could do another thing: let Kyle meet the rest of his family. Sure it would be a bit…difficult to explain why he brought someone in a giant metal suit with him to see them, but it would be harder to explain if Kyle came without it. And really, he wanted Kyle to feel part of the family. Because he was.
Staring at the location of the porthole on his phone, he shoved it back into his pocket and stood up, grabbing his keys and exiting the apartment. He went down the necessary flight of stairs, not bothering to deal with the elevator, and arrived at Kyle’s door. Hesitating a bit, he knocked hard enough for the other—or his roommates—to hear.
He heard the announcement, yes. He heard it, but didn’t move to do anything about it. Home? What “home” did he have left? If the rhizome had ever been his home to begin with, that had ended long ago. Before the game, even. When Akane Kurashiki had taken her own death for granted. There wasn’t anything he was eager to go back to—and if they’d truly summoned “home,” he wasn’t about to relive what had debatably been among the worst moments of his short, painful life.
There was no reason for him to leave his room for this. Nothing, really, that could be gained from this—not joy, not forgiveness, not—
But someone was knocking on the door. He couldn’t simply ignore it. There was the chance, of course, that it was for one of his roommates. Perhaps that was even more likely than anything else (though some part of him was insisting that they weren’t here, they weren’t going to answer it, and whoever was knocking might well know that). There was a pause after the knocking stopped—five seconds, then ten, and then Kyle, in his armor built for lower gravity and colder, less personal spaces, stood up.
His own face was staring at him through the open door—except, really, it wasn’t. Kyle looked down, at his feet. “Sigma,” he said, voice subdued. “Do you… need something?”
There was no reason to build up his expectations one way or the other.