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A Delicate Machine
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Asuka deserved so, so much better than what Cass could give her. They weren't used to people actually expecting anything of them, weren't used to disappointing anyone but themself.

"...You really think that anyone who's still watching cares?" They managed to keep their voice quiet, this time; but they still couldn't bring themself to look directly at Asuka. "I said goodbye to my family and friends on the first day. Asked them to stop watching right then and there, if they even started in the first place. If they're still here, well, uh, can't say I'm happy about that." Cass would have glanced at the nearest camera, but they hadn't cared enough to figure out where it was.

"But like, the point I'm trying to make is... I don't care! At this point, I honestly don't care what anyone thinks of me!" They were only just starting to realize this, themself.

"My life doesn't matter any less if I don't try to spill my life story to a bunch of faceless strangers to try and make them maybe a little sad when I die! I-I know that there are already people who love me, people who're gonna be sad that I'm gone," despite how much Cass tried to convince themself otherwise at times, "So what does it matter if there isn't a single other person out there who gives a shit? Like, if an artist makes a painting and only shows it to one other person in their life, but it inspires that person even a little, it's just as meaningful as a painting that inspires a hundred! My life has meaning because it's mine, and that's all it needs to be!"
a tribute for the dead and dying

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Rivers of Sadness and Mutual Need · The Hunting Cabin