2025-10-12: You Can Reject the Game
- Log: You Can Reject the Game
- Cast: Ichika Kawase, Tsumugi Kujaku
- Where: Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa, Tokyo
- OOC Date: October 12, 2025
- IC Date: July 25, 2012
- Summary: I want to be free. I've been thinking about what it means, what I have to do to get there... But it's still what I want.
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
Another day, another set of finals. Ichika Kawase needed desperately to get Out and think about something other than math and literature for a bit, so she decided to go somewhere she'd been meaning to go: Peacock Silk. It's a bit of a trip from Sumaru, but Ichika can handle it. She's been on the train, then walking. And so, as the afternoon stretches to evening...
She shows up. Ichika is dressed in a black tanktop with a skull on it, a few straps visible at her shoulders, and a short green skirt over thigh-highs that disappear into knee-length boots with a slight heel. She isn't tall enough already, apparently. She has a few bracelets on her wrists, but no earrings; dramatic makeup with black lips and deep eyeshadow and long, bleached hair complete the look.
She's been here once, at its advertised party; now, though, she's on her own.
She sees the 'that way' placard and indeed goes... that way, opening the double doors and stepping inside to look all around.
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
The double doors yawn wide, revealing--
Nobody. Absolutely no one.
Nothing is here to keep Ichika Kawase company other than the synhtetic strains of Yellow Magic Orchestra's 1981 album, BGM, piped in through the store's speakers.
This is... not unusual, but it may well be for Ichika. The last time she was here, the store was active, bustling; others - others like her - filled the first floor, and all the store's artisans (including apparently the peacock) were there. Now?
No customers. No employees.
If the lights weren't on, the door not unlocked, and the music still actively playing, one might think it was abandoned. Even considering the fact that the eccentric members of Peacock Silk are rarely in the store all at the same time -- it doesn't seem like there's anyone here.
Is the store really open--?
Ichika has plenty of time to ruminate on this, and perhaps delve deeper, before the double doors of Peacock Silk's deceptive entrance open wide once more, streaming in the light from the outside world.
"Oh?"
If Ichika turns to look, she'll find them: the extra inches of their gold heeled platform boots sending them cresting over six feet, Tsumugi Kujaku strikes much the same avant garde fashionable sensibilities as they did the day Ichika first came to Peacock Silk. Black seems to be the order of the day, from the black backless button up (buttoned -all- the way up like some kind of token ode to professionalism) they wear, to the black leather of their pants, to those ankle platform boots and even the half-scoop of their gloves. In that sea of monochrome black there's only the occasional notes of color in defiant flashes of gold: the heels, the sharp necktie they wear, the way their eyeshadow mixes gold and black together to the black-gold ombre of their lips and the earrings lining their left ear -- even their gloves are designed to look like they're adorned with gold fingernails.
It's a dramatic package.
All undercut by the way they are currently slurping at the straw of a plastic big gulp cup, filled to the brim with the toxic green excellence of sugar and madness that is melon cream soda.
Topped, of course, with a scoop of icecream and a cheeky little cherry bobbing in that sea of melon as Tsumugi stares at Ichika with distressingly melon green-colored eyes for all of the three seconds it takes for them to finish their long, indulgent sip.
Their head cants rightward.
"Hello."
They say, casual as can be, before continuing their sip.
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
Nobody's here. Now, a true hardened criminal would take this as an opportunity, but Ichika is merely your average delinquent so she just sort of stands around uncomfortably for a minute. ...Then another minute. "Uh?" she starts. There's music. ...It's not bad.
She steps inside a little closer, just a little bit, and looks around. "Anybody here...? I had some stuff..."
She has more to offer than violence, this time. But there's no bird to whom she can give it!
But then there is a voice, and light, and Ichika does turn, looking at someone way taller even than she is. ...The bplatform boots help, of course.
She looks at them in a little wonder, because their outfit is really cool. Leather pants! Stunning makeup! Gloves with gold on them!
And--
It's all broken up almost enough to be funny with the plastic cup. With a cherry and ice cream. Ichika opens her mouth and closes it, looking back curiously at Tsumugi. She doesn't look away, despite eye contact being uncomfortable. Her own red eyes just sort of stay where they are until--
Oh, right.
"Oh hey," Ichika says. "Uh, nice to see you. I was starting to think the place was empty..."
Which would've been a shame, since she came all the way here.
"I dunno if you remember me, but I was here before. At that event."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
I was starting to think the place was empty...
Black-gold lips release that straw once more.
"It was," says Tsumugi Kujaku, simply.
"And then you came."
Delivered so calmly, it strikes such a matter-of-fact statement... yet one that still, somehow, feels significant. Like perhaps it was Ichika's arrival that provided the store the motion and life it was lacking before she arrived.
Or maybe it's just as literal as it sounds.
Either way...
"I remember."
It's as they say these two, casual words that Tsumugi starts to move again; the -=CLICK=- of platform heels resound through the superb acoustics of Peacock Silk's shop floor as they make their way towards the back of the room, where the tailor's atelier (not Atelier) awaits.
Ichika, of course, is free to follow. Or not. They don't compel either way -- though similarly, it doesn't stop them from addressing her, voice growing increasingly distant as they move.
"'Leather and danger,'" they say, referring back to the assessment they had made of her the first time she came to Peacock Silk. They make their way to their workstation, setting that cup aside on the surface of that expensive-looking sewing cabinet.
"You offered ten Pyro Jack cards and ten acts of violence against demons to Pernelle. Right?" asks Peacock Silk's purveyor, cracking open their work book. "You might've won with that. Sadly, the other offer was just too irresistible for someone like Pernelle to refuse."
With this, they turn around. Leaning back against the tabletop, gloved hands planted on the surface to either side of them, they consider Ichika with a thoughtful stare.
"So you've come back. What can I do for you?"
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
It was! That's... fair. Nobody was here until she came. It does feel significant, somehow, and Ichika feels that idea. "...Huh."
Maybe there's cameras or something? Or maybe...
But Tsumugi remembers. That's nice. Ichika straightens a little, because it's good to be remembered. She follows along, not too far behind; her strides are fairly long too, and there, she hears the reminder. She remembers it, of course; Peacock Silk was very memorable to her. "Yeah," she says. "I've learned more about this stuff since then. ...Gotten into a little more danger." Pause. Not so much new leather, though...
The workstation! Ichika doesn't know much about fancy tailoring, but she can tell the quipment is nice. And Tsumugi remembers her offer, too. "...It's cool," Ichika says. "It was kind of funny to watch Takeba win instead. She really didn't know what to do with it."
"Well..." Ichika considers, but she already weighed herself up for this. The only thing sh risks is embarrassment in front of the cool themby, right?
"Two things. The first is work stuff; you said I should make an appointment, and now I have some actual stuff you might be interested in. Some bismuth chunks, hides from a... clown? Stuff like that. From a place called an Atelier."
"....And I wanted to talk about Tsubasa Seki. They're my best friend, and you made a big impression on them."
"...Binder looks real nice, too."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
Who -would- know what to do with the postmodern marvel that is the world's first Pernelle Original? After all--
"People have a hard time seeing the value in the invaluable." Gloved fingers frame the sides of that chilled plastic big cup, leatherwrapped fingerpads catching beads of condensation against their dark surface.
"And all the loose string probably made it difficult for it to hold things."
Abstract wisdom and bland statements of the obvious: balance has been achieved.
Hitching up onto the workstation proper, Tsumugi crosses their legs, one leather-clad knee over the other, as Ichika offers up her motives for coming here. Twofold. One, a statement of the obvious: she's here to do business.
"Ara."
Fingers at the rim of their cup now, the beads of condensation they had collected on their journey upwards now spill inward over the lip, droplets of condensed moisture suspending briefly on that concoction of cream and melon before simply being absorbed into the greater collective. "So you were in Taro Nakata's Atelier," they conclude, the simplicity of the assumption weighed by the feeling that they might well have personal knowledge on the subject.
"Sa-ya can use the bismuth. Saika can use the hides. Or I can condense either down into base cognitive material. Either way... they're useful; we'll take them."
They seem content to leave it at that, then, lifting their cup up toward their lips once more...
"What did you think of it?" they suddenly ask, before they sip.
"The Atelier."
And for Ichika's second motivation...
Something more personal.
"Oh?"
Balance.
Tsumugi finishes that sip of their drink. Their posture shifts, leather creaking as they bring up one leg at the knee, draping their cup-holding arm over it. Vividly green eyes peer at Ichika curiously over the wall of a pale, slender forearm.
"That's good," they say. Of the binder? Of the impression they made? They don't clarify.
"The binder was an expression of their desires. I just gave a face to them that was yearning to be recognized." Eye contact, it seems, is never quite a problem for Tsumugi; their gaze is steady and calm as they peer into Ichika's reds, ultimately only looking away towards the reams of fabric beyond when it seems like they feel like looking elsewhere.
"Tsubasa-kun has a lot of potential. But they don't quite realize it themself yet." In at least one sense, it should be easy to surmise what they're talking about -- the world Ichika and Tsumugi see, but Tsubasa does not.
Or, well... did not.
As well-informed as Tsumugi seems to be, there's limits to everything. Tsubasa's brand new (cognitive) bag will just have to be a delightful little surprise. On the other hand...
"I haven't seem them in some time now. I hear they were involved with that fire in Aoba."
There are other things they're aware of.
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
Ichika tilts her head at the comment of value, but she doesn't really get it until... "Oh."
Ichika still doesn't get it.
Business is one thing. Business is good! But... Tsumugi not only recognizes the Atlier, but recognizes the materials enough (is that why?) to know which one it was.
"You know about it," she says. "...I mean, obviously. But like, you know about it," she repeats, as if that will make her sentence less opaque. "I was though, yeah. Cool. You got it."
"There was a lot of stuff I didn't understand," she admits of the Atelier. "When I heard that Roger guy say Humors, I thought it meant something was supposed to be funny. He was nice, I guess? ...But that's him, not the place."
"It was... weird," she says. "Like some kind of... fantasy world. No, that's not it. Like somebody's fantasy world. I dunno Nakata, but I feel like I do now, a little, just from seeing his place."
"...It was kind of fun," she admits. "Dangerous, but fun. I guess a carnival is supposed to be?"
She then moves on to... Tsbasa.
Curiosity. Either could be good, but Ichika has no reason to think that there's anything weird there. Instead, she listens. Yearning to be recognized... Ichika doesn't always like eye contact, but as the Thorn Boss, she's learned to keep it. besides; there's something interesting in Tsumugi's eyes anyway, something in their gaze that seems... somewhere.
"That's true," Ichika says. "They don't think they're going anywhere. ...But I think they've got a lot to give."
"...Yeah," Ichika asys, and considers--but Tsumugi knows this stuff. So, "The Joker Killer tried to kill them. ...And then asked them if they wanted to kill their mom instead."
"It was... really fucked up." Pause. "Uh, messed up. Anyway point is, folks fought him off, and they survived..."
"Did you see the news? How the cops tried to pin it on them?"
"...Well, the reason you haven't seem them is probably that they were stuck with the cops for a while. But they're out now. Cleared and all. So maybe they'll be back?"
"...yearning to be recognized, huh?" she then recalls from a moment ago. "Yeah. It was exactly the kind of thing they wanted, too."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
They know about it.
But like, they know about it.
"I know about it."
They repeat, in sublime monotone ever-so-subtly emphasized to keep in the theme.
Because the third time's the charm.
Ichika, however, offers them her impressions. That lidded gaze of theirs drops, regarding the vividly green drink in their grasp as the melting ice cream renders it more and more opaque. Their wrist swivels, rotating that melting dessert within its sea of green as Ichika expresses her understandable confusion on the Humors.
"Did you know the amount of bacteria in the human body outnumbers the cells we're made of?" they remark, abruptly. "We're home to trillions of living beings that we need to survive and most of us never even think about them... until something goes wrong." Their wrist flicks. Ice cream sloshes. They lift that straw to their lips.
"That's what Humors are. The little things we don't need to think about, propping up our selves."
They sip again, and listen to the rest of what Ichika has to say. A small smile curves at their painted lips as Ichika talks about how fun, but dangerous, the Atelier was. The gesture seems to expose more of the gold in that ombre that might otherwise be hidden; like a nigh-literal brightening of their features.
"Ateliers reflect the things that provide the shape of what we are. Who we are as individuals. They're beautiful," they say, tone placid yet with a simple sincerity. They consider for a moment; and then that gaze drifts back towards Ichika once more.
"So you met the Sanguin?" they wonder, curiosity tinging their voice. He was nice, Ichika had said. But that was him, not...
"Do you think he belonged there?"
It's a question that barely lasts -- not the least of which because a new subject comes up that Tsumugi is - currently - more interested in. Cup dangling in the claw-cage of their gloved fingers, their brows lift fractionally as Ichika talks about the Joker Killer's offer of revenge for Tsubasa. That he offered to kill their... mother?
"..."
It was fucked up. Uh, messed up.
"Mm. Saika told me. 'Holy fuck, Tsumugi! You should've seen it! What the fuck! Everything was on fire! He blew my entire ass up with a card! And? And?? That dickbutt Joker Killer almost killed some kid!? He had some kinda sidekick?! Like this was a comic!? It was fucked! Up!!'"
This recitation - real or paraphrased - still somehow perfectly channels the energy of Saika Kikuchi, all while Tsumugi's expression remains utterly deadpan, flooding the field with expletives.
"... or something like that."
Maybe it's their way of saying there's no need for Ichika to restrain herself in their company; they've probably heard worse.
But the cops, and Tsubasa's situation, are both met in stride; Tsumugi doesn't seem particularly surprised to hear about the Sumaru PD's subtle scapegoating tactics. In fact, their thought on the matter is: "Interesting, isn't it? When someone covers their hand over something and tells you it doesn't exist, doesn't it make you want to know why?"
They lift their cup, snag that straw with between their lips.
"... Doesn't it make you want to tear their hand away?"
But as for Tsubasa...
"Good," they say simply. "They're coming into their own. Not in the way their mother or father defines them, or their friends or teachers, but the way they do. They don't deserve to be caged." By the police? Probably. Yet...
"... But most people can't accept that. They'll try to crush them. Grind them under the heel of their expectations. And if that doesn't work..." That cup falls away, settled back on the tabletop to let beads of condensation slowly trickle unhindered onto the wooden surface.
"... Human beings would rather snuff out a life than risk it becoming something they don't understand."
A second passes. And then Tsumugi asks Ichika:
"What do you think of the Old Maid's offer?"
Not what happened, or Tsubasa's response.
Just the offer itself.
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
Ichika kind of wants some ice cream, now. Just a little bit. She can think about it later.
"Huh?" Ichika starts, and blinks. "...I didn't," she says. It's a weird thought. having all those extra little 'things' inside that she doesn't know about. She's not sure she likes it.
"Huh..." Humors as propping up the 'self'. "Beautiful," she repeats. "...I think I'd get it more if I knew the guy. Like, what he wants to show people, not just the things I saw about him from the Atelier. I think... I'd have a more complete picture."
The Sanguin? "Yeah," she says. "...He wants to be there," Ichika offers, and that's about all she has. Admittedly, she's more concerned with Tsubasa than this guy she doesn't know.
And that recitation makes Ichika laugh in surprise. "Oh," she says. "OK yeah." She gets it. She's not going to worry about it. And 'Saika' was there, now that she remembers. She didn't get to pay much attention to her, but...
"...Kinda yeah," Ichika admits of how she wants to know why.
"...Yeah." To tear the hand away... She wants to know. But isn't that part of being the reporter she's looking to become?
"Huh..." It's a very meaningful set of words, and Ichika isn't sure she entirely understands them. At the same time... "They deserve to get treated on their own terms," she agres. She thinks she agrees, anyway, hesitation writ on her brow, as if she's delving into waters that arne't home to her.
"You're right about what people do, I guess. They've tried to grind them down really hard."
The offer?
"It..."
She remembers; holy fuck.
"It pissed me off," the Thorn Boss says. "It was totally messed up. Put someone in a life or death situation and then give them this gotcha where they have to follow your thought experiment? ...I don't think he cared either way. He just wanted to turn the screws harder. Make someone uncomfortable, draw them into his... his... Fuck, what's the word? His story, I guess. Make them react on his terms."
"...And they'd just been telling me... how they don't want their dad dead, you know? So it felt like rubbing it in. I guess the Joker didn't have any way of knowing that, but it still made me mad."
"Playing with someone's life like it's a game... I don't like it. Even aside from the part where the question itself is messed up."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
He wants to be there, Ichika offers. It's all she has, and yet...
"Interesting."
... it seems to be enough to scratch the itch of whatever curiosity Tsumugi might have, for now. Or just deepen it.
But how often are those things one in the same?
They leave it at that, sated for the present time. Moving with the flow of their interest - and focusing on Ichika's priorities - they put the whole of their attention on the Kasugayama gang leader; there's no judgment, no annoyance or exasperation, as Ichika tried to work through what Tsumugi says on the matter of Tsubasa. As if whether she understands or not, whether she chooses to dive in or hesitate on the precipice of the subjects Tsumugi deals in, are all equally valid outcomes.
They accept that hesitation; they smile in subtle approval as she comes to her own conclusions.
Just like her swearing, in this boutique?
Ichika doesn't need to conform to anything or anyone but herself.
For example...
It pissed me off.
Ichika lays her feelings bare on that tumultuous - painful - memory. The reprehensible prospect of someone dragged down to the level of a killer. They watch with that same impassive expression that neither seems to suggest agreement or disagreement as the Thorn Boss works her way through that complex tangle of emotions.
And as she talks about how Tsubasa wouldn't have wanted even their dad dead, Peacock Silk's purveyor cants their head in a look of idle curiosity.
They're still silent for a time, in the aftermath. And then...
"Life is a game, for many."
-=CLICK=-
Those heels ring out on hardwood as Tsumugi slips off that tabletop, hands clasped behind their back.
"They don't call it that. They use more serious words to confuse it. They call them etiquette, decorum. Convention. But it's all the same: they create the system and set the rules and expect you to follow them without explaining what or why. ... But there's no reason to follow the arbitrary rules other people set forth. You can reject them. Whether it's the Joker Killer, the police, or family. The only law you should follow is the one you find value in."
Walking past, they pause beside Ichika, considering her from that side profile.
"I think Tsubasa-kun is starting to understand that. ... I think you do, too. It's not the decision I would have made... but rejecting the Joker Killer's rules even in the face of death has its own value. It's worthy of respect."
And they walk past, back toward the front of the store once more.
"You have an interesting style," they say abruptly as they go. "I'd like to make you something. Tell me: what do you want?"
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
Somehow, when Tsumugi says it's interesting, Ichika actually thinks they believe it.
Mybe she's already been influenced by her friends on this point; she's received glowing recommendations about them from Myunghon and Tsubasa both, after all. ...But it's the impression she's getting, all the same.
What surprises her is not that she gets a chance to express her feelings; she's smart enough, even if she wouldn't say so, to recognize the pattern that suggests she will. But the response?
It is? Ichika scowls a little--because she knows it's true, but doesn't like it. The way Tsumugi elaborates on what those are, though--rules, rules others set forth, and that makes them a game. "Huh," she vocalizes, becaues its' not immediately intuitive to her. But the rest is. The law she should follow--what she needn't reject--is... what she finds value in.
Ichika's side profile is pretty striking; she stands like someone who's used to being looked at.
Not the decision they would've made, though... Hmm. She looks thoughtfully at Tsumugi. "...Cool."
But--they want to make her something?
"Oh..." What does she want?
"...A dress," Ichika decides. "Something I can wear places with other stuff. ...It'd be more fun, if I'm getting something from a cool place like this, to have a 'centerpiece' item, right? And then I can decide what message to send with what I wear with it. Like..."
She thinks to explain, but realizes; Tsumugi might already know what she was going to say. Since they'd know how style works. So, instead, "I really like... putting different pieces together," she says instead. "I get stuff from all over. I feel... stronger, when I put them together how I want."
"..." She considers, and then, "...For Persona stuff," she says, "I guess it would be more useful to ask for new armor. But..."
She admits, "The kind of armor I need day to day is pretty different from the armor I need for fighting demons and stuff, though. And I spend more time on the other one. It'd be a shame not to get something I could show off, you know?"
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
There's a certain cadence to the way Tsumugi talks. That calm deep voice carries towards one subject to the next in a way that doesn't necessarily feel like they're controlling the conversation so much as they are just...
Following their interests.
And one can either follow with them, or not.
Tsubasa's status - and Ichika's connection to them. Both are things Tsumugi is interested in. The interest they express feels genuine because it is. And yet--
It's just as easily that they abandon the topic altogether in favor of the next thing that strikes their fancy. Is it because of what Ichika said? Or something that they saw in her from that new perspective at her side?
Whatever it is, soon enough they're making their offer and dragging out a big book and cracking it open. On it are... notes. Financials. Orders. A handwritten ledger?
"You make it your own," they say distantly and yet with absolute certainty to Ichika's feelings on mixing and matching as they slump against the counter. "There's power in that. 'A dress shouldn't wear you, you need to wear the dress.' It's no different with an ensemble. You define how the world sees you. Not the other way around."
Tsumugi scratches out details. Ichika's name. Dress. A few additional notes follow after, in short order, even as they speak:
"The fabric will be reinforced with meta-materials; even if your Persona comes with changes to your clothes and personal appearance, it'll keep its benefits. What matters is the will behind the material, not the material itself."
Those striking green eyes, every bit as bright as their sweet melon concoction now lingering alone in their workspace, tilt upward.
"After we take your measurements, bring me the materials from the Atelier. That should work for payment this time. You'll be able to show off, any way you want."
Their head tilts.
"The centerpiece commands attention. It sets the tone of the conversation. Everything else provides the nuance. So... what tone are you striving for, Ichika Kawase?"
<Pose Tracker> Ichika Kawase has posed.
A big book! Ichika looks at it, but not really with much certain intent of reading it. It's just a thing that draws her attention. Her attention is drawn next by Tsumugi's words, instead, and the delinquent boss smiles at their response. "Yeah," she says. "You get it."
Meta-materials. "Oh, it works like that?" Ichika wonders. "Cool." She didn't know that about the 'will'. But what was it Tsubasa had said? That models can be 'real' in supernatural space...? Maybe it's like that.
"OK," Ichika answers. "I've got them in my bag, so I can do that." She brought them along. What, was she going to leave them? She thought something might get made, or... something.
But it sets the tone. And what tone...?
"I want to be free," Ichika says easily. "...That's what I want. I've been thinking about what it means, what I have to do to get there... But it's still what I want."