2025-09-26: C'est superbe.
- Log: 2025-09-26: C'est superbe.
- Cast: So-young Park, Mitsuru Kirijo
- Where: Bunkamura Theatre Hall, Shibuya
- OOC Date: September 25, 2025
- IC Date: July 16, 2012
- Summary: As So-young's gallery and concert combo get underway, she takes some time to talk art shop with a particularly well-learned member of the audience.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
The Bunkamura! A large concert hall, theatre, and museum sat right in the middle of Shibuya, this building currently oversees an eclectic and constant collection of performances from bands, orchestras, and theatre troupes. More importantly for So-young Park, it also holds the Shibuya Afternoon Concerts, a series of weekday performances which the Korean conductor has started running in her capacity as Guest Conductor with the Tokyo Philharmonic.
To say that So-young is driven would be underselling it. She's young by conductor standards, but has quickly made a name for herself in showbiz magazines by doing a lot of work with local idol and music groups as a producer and composer and always being willing to help out little art shows and younger talents in trying to get started. Despite the friction it's caused with more genteel-minded audiences, her performances are vivid and upbeat, often interweaving contemporary culture like arrangements of video game music into bombastic versions of classics, all for the sake of pulling in a new generation of concert-goers.
That's what she says, at least. It's possible she's just enjoying herself too much to do anything else.
Today, she's trying something new. A portion of the Bunkamura foyer has been sectioned off with ropes, leading people coming out of the concert through an art exhibit tied to the themes of the music. Space has been made for a number of works around the theme of 'Turmoil', with a collection of paintings and sketches and some small sculptures carefully laid out. Placards are dotted around them providing some background for each work. The name of the artist might be familiar as one of the disgraced Madarame's pupils, but no mention of that can be found here. It's purely focused on his work, and no-one else's.
The conductor is impossible to miss, having quickly headed up to see how well her experiment is working and to not-so-sneakily listen in to the buzz of her audience and their impressions of the concert. For one, she's tall and radiates an air of supreme confidence, practically vibrating after the rush of a performance. For two, admist everyone else she is strikingly monochrome - a black evening dress and long white hair, streaked through with black colour to make it look like the keys of a piano.
Despite the rather severe look, She pauses to chatter brightly with a couple of female students who approach her, laughing as they lift their camera and crowd in before giving it a wink and a sideways v at her eyes, but then goes right back to basking in the feeling of a performance successfully done.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
Mitsuru Kirijo is, technically, the 'new generation'.
However, like most things, that technically does a lot of heavy lifting. For example: Mitsuru Kirijo could probably tell you to the last note the composition of Mozart's Eine kleine Nachtmusik.
Mitsuru Kirijo has also never played a video game in her life.
Music, however, is music, and there is a certain universality to it that the Kirijo heiress appreciates, even in its myriad of variations. Whether it's classical or j-pop, metal or babymetal -- the notes on the page follow - and bend - the same rules as every other one.
And that, to Mitsuru, is much more fascinating than a video game could ever be.
(no she doesn't even know what a drake adventure is)
So, in those increasingly rare moments where the heiress to one of the largest megacorporations in the globe actually has free time? -Personal- time? Why, why not use it for recreation, like enjoying a concert, for an orchestra your family acts as a patron for?
... Well, it's close enough to recreation for -her-.
So she's there, at the art exhibit, when So-young sneaks in to snoop on her audience (and actively chat them up!); wrapped up in a high-collared, wine-violet dress, royal red hair piled up today in an eloquent bun held in place by two exquisitely-crafted gold hairpins speared through that silken mass, she stands off to the side -- away from the throngs, away from the discussion, away from the socializing. No -- her focus is wholly on the art, her brows furrowed as she pours over the painting laid out before her. She looks absorbed in a world unto herself as she observes. Distant. Unapproachable. ... Troubled, maybe.
'Turmoil.'
The theme of the piece echoes in her mind as she stares at it. Her understanding of art has always been more of an academic thing, rather than one of feeling -- appreciation of the technique, the history -- the context of it all. So why does that theme resonate with her so much?
Lost in her thoughts, a frown presses at dark red lips. It's only then that eyes that same shade drift towards the crowds -- where she finds a woman of striking monochrome there, chatting with the others.
She blinks. Her head cants at a curious angle, bangs spilling over one eye. For now though, she says nothing, as her gaze drifts back toward the painting.
Here is one who does not naturally gravitate towards crowds, it seems.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
Unfortunately (fortunately?) for Mitsuru, So-young Park has made it her life's work to bull her way towards as many points of interest as possible. 'Unapproachable' just means 'approach harder'--
--alright, she can be a little more serious than that. Truth be told, So-young is a bit nervous about this change to the proceedings, not that she'd ever admit it to anyone. Not the idea of showcasing someone new, and certainly not the idea of showcasing someone whose artistic future is suddenly in jeopardy thanks to the actions and prejudices of others - but she is forcing a risk here.
The worst outcome would be for a new, recently hurt artist to put themselves out there like this only to have everyone walk straight past their paintings. She's properly commissioning them, so money never hurts, but this is a time when they're going to need to rebuild their confidence, and you can't just teach that.
The score has already set the mood. She would have loved for the day to be rainy and dreary, but the weather hasn't cooperated - still, her setlist was stormy and thundering, with a lot of warbling violins and brass instruments fighting them. She softened it at the end with a more triumphant finale, but a lot of the performance was challenging by classical standards, and she's caught some chatter from some younger audience members for whom the theme didn't quite resonate.
So seeing someone caught by the sight of the gallery is a relief, and So-young is quick to gravitate in that direction. It takes her a little while, because she honestly loves schmoozing, but before long she's at Mitsuru's periphery, trying to remember why this young woman is faintly familiar. (She's been informed about the Philharmonic's patrons, of course, but is kind of bad at remembering names.)
Receptive to an audience's needs, she's content to wait until Mitsuru's focus hovers away again. "Striking, isn't it? I was expecting raw vengeful anger, to be honest, but something about the lines make it a lot more disquieting. And I think the brushstrokes aren't even strokes - lots of little quick dabs."
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
Some children have to grow up too fast. And Mitsuru Kirijo might be their poster child.
It's hard to say just -what- it is: the impeccable posture, maybe, that never seems to allow for any moment of slack or compromise in its straight-backed regality. Or maybe it's the way she carries herself, subtly aloof and removed, like she lived in a world other people her age simple can't reach.
Maybe it is sheer, passive and relentless aura farming.
Either way -- there's just something about her that exudes the quiet authority of a (somehow) mature and responsible adult compared to the other kids her age here, a feeling that's only really built on further by the silent yet not exactly -shy- sense of reservation about her as So-young approaches. That dark gaze remains on the painting for a long time, arms folded against her abdomen, a frown settled upon her lips -- not of disapproval, but of contemplation. It's only when she feels the presence of someone nearby that that dark red gaze turns to catch sight of that familiar mane of artistically-rendered monochrome once more.
"Ah," exhales the Gekkoukan Student Council President. Striking, isn't it?
Her eyes shut.
"... Yes," she concedes, after a moment. "It's somewhat like pointilism, isn't it? Creating a coherent piece of art out of small dapples of color that do not quite connect. There is a sense of coherency, and yet... the longer you look at it, the more you grow aware how precarious it all is, held aloft by a... suggestion of connection."
A small, almost amused smile drifts across those dark lips.
"The artist clearly understands the essence of turmoil. C'est superbe."
When her gaze opens up again, it returns to So-young, curious.
"It's an impressive complement to the concert," she notes, voice mild. "Unexpected, but impressive."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
In comparison, So-young's posture is much more relaxed. She certainly holds herself with poise, but it's less because she's learned to be that way and more because... she just enjoys holding herself with poise. She seems always ready to feel at home, comfortable in her own skin. It's as if she wears her heart on her sleeve, but that heart just happens to love showmanship and may just decide to act its way through something anyway.
Still, her eyebrows raise, and her smile tugs wider into something even more genuine. As much as she loves art and the way in which it can draw out a reaction, she tends to look at it through a director's lens, focusing more on the techniques and the way in which an emotion is evoked rather than the actual emotion _being_ evoked. So she brightens as she nods along.
"My personal favorite is-- well, I wasn't really sure about whether to display it, but the clay piece is fascinating," she motions towards it. An expertly turned vase, up until the point where the artist squeezed the hell out of it before putting it in the kiln, making for a very wobbly hourglass sort of shape. So-young can't help but grin at it. "It is really not what the artist intended, of course, but I ended up rather nostalgic for every time I learned I don't have the patience for pottery."
She gracefully accepts the compliment - including, it seems, the part about it being unexpected. "Thank you. I was trying to think of some ways to expand on the theme. Some people just simply react better to visuals, and there's only so much I can do on my own at the head of an orchestra." She says that, but she certainly tries her best when conducting - she's incredibly fond of huge flourishes and striking solos, lighting included.
"I suppose you could say that I got incensed at the news of Madarame - ah, but please don't think this is specifically in retribution or anything," she's quick to add and even includes a wink. "That simply lit the touchpaper for me to go wring the director's arm into giving me some space. I would love to include some street art, but they definitely won't forgive me if I let someone at the wallpaper."
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
It's always good to find someone of like mind, even if in the most roundabout of ways.
Mitsuru has adjusted to not being able to relate to others on most things -- of forging a path forward for herself all on her own. One can debate the healthiness of that (it's not), but she's done it all the same. Yet -- when she gets that genuine smile from So-young in her assessment of the piece -- gets that regard from someone who seems to see things from the technical side, like her. Well.
Even Mitsuru isn't immune to affirmation.
She engages in the conversation a bit more beyond formality at that point, turning smoothly on one high heel to regard what was once the beginnings of an exquisite clay vase. She blinks, head tilting to an owlish angle as she takes it in -- but it's So-young's context that inspires the wry smile that graces her lips.
"Aah. Yes, I see," she remarks, bending one arm at the elbow, cradled in its opposite number's palm, so she can cup her chin and consider the vase more critically. "There's something relatable in fallibility, isn't there? Like Duchamp's The Large Glass. Sometimes the greatest technique of all is a well-honed sense of adaptability."
She can't help but feel it's a sentiment she could learn from. The thought is there and gone in a flash -- aided by the invocation of a name that had only some months ago been the center of untold controversy and scandal.
Ichiryusai Madarame.
Mitsuru's eyes narrow. She knows these works are by his students - though it feels like it does him far too much credit to call them that. But drawing up the name itself seems to inspire a righteous reaction in the young heiress, jaw set, gaze sharper than any blade.
"Yes. What he did was repugnant." There's a steel to her tone; an edge of disgust she does not see fit to obfuscate.
"It's better to celebrate the gifts he tried to exploit, than pay even an iota of attention more to that small, sorry excuse of a man."
As if that small, sorry excuse of a man didn't deserve the energy expended on the basic cultural backbone of social niceties.
And yet...
... can she say she feels any better about the implications of what the Phantom Thieves did to him?
...
She's lost in that thought for a moment, before I would love to include some street art, but they definitely won't... stirs her from her reverie with a blink.
"--Ah! Like a graffito?"
it's -- technically correct but how can she still make it sound so inegenue
It lasts only for a precious, harrowing moment, before Mitsuru scoffs and shakes her head. "-- No, I believe the Bunkamura is quite strict about those things."
And yet -- for all she eschews social mores in condemning Madarame, she still makes sure to preserve some traditions -- like introductions. Turning to face So-young, she lifts one hand, drawing a few strands of loosed royal red away from her face and behind one ear; the other hand? Lifts in offering.
"You're the conductor -- So-young Park, yes?" she asks. "Mitsuru Kirijo. It's an honor to have opportunity to experience your work firsthand."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"Ah, well. I'm sure my brass section could tell you plenty about my fallibility," So-young replies, the smile dropping away for long enough for So-young to deliver a perfect grimace - but then it comes right back, indefatigable. "Conducting is a conversation between musicians, and sometimes I do have a habit of speaking a little too loudly. Fortunately, it always seems to work out reasonably well in the end. Maybe I am not crushing a vase in my hands, but I'm sure it feels just as cathartic in the moment."
She's silent for a little while, lapsing into a rare moment of quiet thought herself. Now that she's seen what happened to Kaneshiro after his Palace, she's still not sure how the Thieves did it - but she does have a lot more context. What did Madarame's head look like, So-young wonders? What was important to him? The thought is discarded just as quickly, because Mitsuru makes an excellent point, and she tuts under her breath in return. "Quite. I thought the least I could do is offer some paid work before anyone jumped at them for 'exposure'."
"Still, I was very surprised. You know, most of the artists I approached insisted they would rather give the opportunity to one of the others. They all thought someone else was more deserving. Honestly, tortured artists," the conductor sighs. "The idea that I might be doing multiple concerts never even crossed their mind until I stopped to explain it to them."
She glosses right over Mitsuru's slight mangling of the term, because she's clearly on a roll. "Mm! There's something very vibrant and alive about it, and the way that it gets built up in layers - someone tags a wall first, then others add to it, then someone plasters all over it with something else. It is just as much a conversation as it is a bragging right. Very Shibuya," she nods like the know-it-all she wishes she could be.
Her smile is right back to dazzling as she bows her head, and lightly takes Mitsuru's hand in a bit of a flourish of a handshake.
(She absolutely has enough adrenaline running through her at the moment to consider risking a kiss on the back of the hand, but as extremely memorable and hilarious it would be, she does have some limits, and this is not really the way to push an introvert.)
"Not at all! It's an honour. Rather, I'm glad I can offer the chance. I've certainly heard how busy you are. As someone who successfully escaped their parents' line of work, all I can say is 'hang in there'," she grins playfully.
<Pose Tracker> Mitsuru Kirijo has posed.
"Ah. Bien sûr. I'm sure your string section could tell me a tale or two as well, then."
Mitsuru Kirijo - capable of making wry and knowing remarks on the delicate and taut interplay of orchestral dynamics.
Also Mitsuru Kirijo - believing strongly hamburgers are commonly eaten with knives and forks.
Something almost like an amused sound escapes Mitsuru Kirijo's lips as So-young laments about the self-sacrificial nature of the tortured artist. "In those circumstances, it's always better to not let them throw themselves upon the sword, I agree," she notes. "It's no different than attempting to coordinate events at school. Sometimes people need a guiding hand to bring them right up to the point they realize they're needed."
She shakes her head, admitting, "It can certainly be exhausting, sometimes. But it's rarely not worth that effort made."
Come to think of it -- one of Madarame's 'pupils' ended up in Gekkoukan, didn't he? ... Maybe she should check in on him.
Something to table for later, perhaps. For now, Mitsuru is busy mulling over the concept of vandalism as communal art. Her brows furrow, faintly. "I've seen some examples of this, yes. In Tatsumi as well. Remarkable that something ostensibly illegal has become so commonplace." Her tone betrays neither approval nor disapproval in this particular moment, just a quiet, thoughtful musing. "Some I've happened upon are rather crude in both message and execution." She's difficult to read in moments like these, but, well.
"... Some are quite striking, nonetheless, I suppose."
At least she speaks her mind, one way or the other.
Her hand taken in a flourish of eloquence and compliments, Mitsuru's head tilts, brows lifting slightly.
"Ah? ... Thank you. It's really nothing."
How would she have reacted to a kiss?
-- it might be best for all their sakes the question goes unanswered.
"It was... a bit of an indulgence on my part, I'll admit," she says in the aftermath. Coming to watch an orchestra your family patrons, an indulgence? Despite the inherent family obligation tied to such a thing, she seems to think so. After all-- "Exams are just around the corner, after all. But I was able to make some small adjustments to my schedule to accommodate this, while still meeting the academic and athletic quotas I've set for myself this week." She looks -so pleased- about this fact.
One might
MIGHT
get the subtle impression
that Mitsuru Kirijo is a frighteningly relentless woman
in moments like these.
"... Which is to say, it was well worth it."
might
Still -- So-young offers that cheeky support, and Mitsuru's response is the curious glance the other woman's way. "The gesture is appreciated, but... I'm quite content with taking on my family's legacy. My father once told me that the Kirijo name was not just one I should make proud, but a name that I should be proud of in turn. I couldn't imagine striving for anything less than that." Still... she does offer a small smile So-young's way.
"But there is something... enviable, about having the courage to strike out on your own. I'm sure your parents must be proud of what you have accomplished, too."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"Though I suppose the counterpoint is that - even after everything they must have been through in the past months - it's rather heartwarming to see them looking out for one another. Now, if we could just temper that with a little self-confidence, then we would truly be in business. I'm sure they'll get there eventually," So-young snickers happily to herself. It is not a very ladylike gesture, especially against the rest of the elegant front she's putting on, but that seems to suit her entirely.
"Once upon a time, speaking out against the norm was considered sketchy at best, and yet we are all making strides. Though-- well, to be clear, I am not talking about those times when someone simply scrawls their name and is done with it. I do like a little effort and artistry put into it," So-young admits. "Sometimes you will turn a corner and someone has managed an entire mural. Those I would very much like to watch the process of how they are designed and come into being."
Her eyebrows raise ever so slightly at her concert being called an indulgence. It's flattering, but there is a little light in the back of her eyes that's sharply watching to try to pick out whether all of this familial piety is pure obligation or something that Mitsuru seems to do. Whatever it is, something about the young woman's response seems to satisfy her, and she simply chuckles. As far as she sees it, it's fine to relish what you're doing, so long as you want to be doing it.
"Ahaha... you are talking to a former arts student, I'm afraid. Suffering, ennui, angst and panic rather came as part of the curriculum. You're not called well-rounded if you don't have a little of those," she effortlessly smiles as she says it. Still, I am glad to hear that. It's all too easy to fall prey to expectations when it comes to family. For many years I was sure I was going to go into acting, and that that was simply that."
She seems to pause, a frown flickering across her face. "... I wonder about that. My mother is extremely hard to read." The phrase 'She didn't try to put two bullets in my head for doing a bad job like she did my sibling' dances on the edge of her tongue, begging to be let out just to see the reaction.