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One thing Atsuhiro doesn't mind too much about Tartarus is that he's allowed to send letters. He can write for however long he wishes and he can write whatever he likes as long as it's not with malicious intent. He likes to write; it gives him a means of passing the time. Not that he necessarily needs to pass the time, considering he's in for a life sentence in one of the most secure prisons in Japan. He doesn't bother to think of escaping, or what life will be like on the outside. He won't know. Writing letters remedies that, in a way.
Atsuhiro's list of recipients isn't very long, primarily because he doesn't have many people close to him who are still alive. He writes long letters to Shuichi and Touya, talking about nothing in particular. Sometimes, he writes about the weather, or the food being served in prison. They've all been separated, so they'll never get to taste the same things as him again. Sometimes he writes about books he's read, leaving long winded reviews of each character and comparing them to members of the disbanded League. Other than that, he has no one to send many letters to. So yes, Atsuhiro's recipient list is indeed, very short.
He presumes it may have been longer, had Tomura or Himiko survived. Himiko's death he'd heard from the general police report, but Tomura's had been blown far out of proportion, far further than Atsuhiro liked. He remembered when documentaries and articles about his reign of terror would spread like wildfire, and nobody would show sympathy for the poor boy who was made into a villain, groomed into the person he became by society. Atsuhiro thinks that he and Shuichi must be the only people still alive that understood the kind of person Tomura Shigaraki was.
Shuichi is the only person who sends replies to his letters. They aren't addressed, so Atsuhiro doesn't know exactly where he's been imprisoned. In the beginning, he'd address his letters to "Spinner" or "Iguchi-kun", but over time they eventually devolved to just "Shuichi". Atsuhiro regrets not doting on him more often, since he was so young when they first met each other. Atsuhiro likes Shuichi's handwriting, since he thinks it's cute (albeit a little childish). He dots his i's with smiley faces and ends his letters with hearts, and Atsuhiro thinks that anyone else who didn't know him would have thought it to be out of character for the villain.
Atsuhiro knows better, because Shuichi is his family.
In the beginning, Touya would also reply to Atsuhiro's letters. At first, he wasn't sure whether to address him as Dabi or Touya, which he expressed in a few of his mail, to which Touya promptly replied with a very long, snarky response about how he was thinking too much about it. They weren't in his handwriting (Atsuhiro knew it very well) so he figured he must've had someone to scribe for him. At the bottom, the ghost writer had scribed: "Touya-nii doesn't mind you calling him by his given name. You're his family, after all." He figured that the fight against the heroes must have left him on the verge of death. Regardless of his fragile state, Touya periodically replied to his letters, each with his same, unchanging sarcastic spark that made Atsuhiro laugh. Eventually, he stopped replying.
Atsuhiro knew quickly that he had died. He received a letter one day, addressed to him that told him so. He recognised the handwriting to be from Touya's scribe, so it intrigued him. The response read, "Hello, Atsuhiro Sako-san. This is Touya's little brother, Shouto Todoroki. Unfortunately, Touya has passed away." Atsuhiro notices that the handwriting, usually clean and neat, has begun to wobble. There are dried blotches all over the page, like tear drops have been dotted all over it. "Still, I'd like to continue sending you letters. I hope it will be okay." Once he was done reading, he folded the paper in half, closing his eyes and exhaling shakily. Unbeknownst to him, Atsuhiro had somehow gotten attached to the tragic victim of Endeavour, and even though they had entered the life of villainy knowing that they might die at any minute, his chest pained to read what he already knew.
When Atsuhiro opened his eyes, he noticed writing where he had folded the paper. Upon closer inspection, it read, "There is something in the envelope that I want you to have. - Shouto". The man frowned, turning the envelope the letter had come in upside down and watching a small piece of paper slip out. It was wrinkled, and yellowing with age, but the image printed on it was enough to make Atsuhiro bite his tongue.
On the piece of paper was a small picture of Touya, the size you'd get when taking a passport photo, or that you'd put in a locket. In it, he was something like 7 years old, smiling widely with a few of his teeth missing. His hair was entirely white, although a few tiny streaks of red were still visible in the photo. His cheeks were chubby and pink, and his expression was one of pure bliss. Atsuhiro wondered if that was one of the only times he ever felt that way while living in the Todoroki household. He sighed, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled nostalgically, as though he were the one who took the photo. Just as he'd feared, Touya really had become his family.
Atsuhiro didn't grow up with any siblings or cousins, so having nieces and nephews were out of the question. Still, he felt a sense of shame when Himiko died. He didn't see it happen, but when the footage of her fight with that hero, Uravity, had cut out, he had a horrible feeling that it wouldn't end with just her arrest. The look on her face had been so painful, like she had never received the concern that the hero had given her. Atsuhiro felt shame seeing that expression, the last time he saw her alive. He regretted not being able to give her what she wanted. Sure, she was always smiling around the League, but a deep sadness lived inside her that he was unable to touch, even when she had called him her family. Somehow, he was thankful that Uravity had touched that sadness inside her.
He sent the hero a letter to show his appreciation, but he never got any reply or sign that it had even arrived. Still, Atsuhiro had a sneaking suspicion that it had reached the hero, and that Himiko's death truly had affected her much more deeply than he'd first thought. He was thankful that there was at least someone out there, outside of the constraints that he and Shuichi were in, who could remember Himiko and her smile.
As for Tomura Shigaraki; Atsuhiro was torn. He hadn't cried when any other member of the League had died, but hearing of Shigaraki's end while in custody, tears came to his eyes. He had wondered why, if he knew that this was the only outcome for the man by the time All For One had been defeated. Seeing that pitiful man, so guided by his ambition to destroy, fall apart after what felt like a lifetime of aiming to fulfil his dream alongside him left Atsuhiro with an unimaginable guilt.
No one remembered Tomura Shigaraki with a smile on their face. From the moment he was begotten as Tenko Shimura, hardly anyone cherished him or felt blessed that he was born. Atsuhiro was very sure that nobody looked back fondly on his life, or felt sorrow for his death. To the wider society, Tomura Shigaraki was a man beyond salvation: a true villain. To Shuichi, he was a shut in with admirable views, who liked video games and always made time for his comrades wishes. To Atsuhiro, Tenko Shimura was just a little boy.
Atsuhiro wondered what he'd write in a letter to the boy, had everything been different. Maybe in a world without quirks, and without discrimination, and certainly without the overarching influence of All For One. Probably worrying about his health like a mother hen, asking him about his university major, and inviting him over for dinner. Simple, quiet things like that. He wondered what it would be like had supernatural powers never existed. Maybe he would be Himiko Toga's father, and she'd instead be cute little Himiko Sako. Maybe Shuichi would be his little nephew, who he doted on greatly and gave gifts of the little video games he likes so much to. Maybe Tenko would be his next door neighbour's son, and he'd come by and play video games with Shuichi all day until dinner time. Maybe Touya would pass by, alongside Jin and Magne and maybe even his little brother Shouto, and they'd sit and chat with Atsuhiro until they all got tired and fell asleep on the couch, with the TV playing quietly in the background.
He wonders if it's childish to daydream about a world where his family can be happy, when he's locked in a cell for life with no hopes of ever seeing any of them ever again. It makes his chest hurt. He wondered if this is appropriate behaviour for someone of his age, at 32. Then, 8 years had already passed. He wonders if this is appropriate for someone at the age of 40, to dream and fantasise about a quiet life with his deceased comrades from almost a decade ago. At this point, Atsuhiro doesn't really care. At least Shuichi, in whatever cell in whatever prison in whatever country he's in, finds it interesting enough. He's the only one who replies anymore, anyway.
After all, Atsuhiro's recipient list is indeed, very, very short.