2026-03-10: Trinkets
- Cutscene: Trinkets
- Cast: Katsuko Yoshinaga
- Where: Setagaya, Tokyo
- OOC Date: 2026-03-10
- IC Date: Tue Oct 02 2012
- Summary: Katsuko reflects upon her failure to clear the Kazusa Motojima's Atelier, and how she has been saddled with two physical reminders of it. Despite the bitterness they inspire, she cannot bring herself to look upon them scornfully...
CO.AG Music: Wake Up In the Dark
Every moment that Katsuko spent making her way back home after the failed expedition was spent in quiet, solemn, thought. She replayed every passing moment in her mind, silently slowing and rewinding what she remembered clearly, and using context to intuit what she could not. Silently, she pondered what could have been done differently. Were there other paths that could have been taken up the tower? Should they have gone slower? Did the wolf have a weakness that even she had not been able to detect, or had their attacks simply been insufficient to pierce its mighty hide?
Perhaps, she reflected bitterly, she should have been the one to lead the expedition. With her mind for strategy and her guidance, perhaps they could have made their way to whatever secrets were held at the topmost part of the tower. The thought was cast away as quickly as it had entered. It was not for any moral reason - morals never entered the equation farther than they could have been used to endear herself to others. Rather, it was because only a more thorough examination of the facts could determine whether she might have made a better leader than Hazuki, or the two that had been called upon.
As quiet as the train home was, it was still not a place she found suitable for organising the facts. There were too many people, and too many distractions, all of them unimportant but still annoyingly present. She counted herself fortunate that the ride home neared its end, at the very least. Failure left a sour taste in her mouth, and failing against something that mocked her so brazenly - even something that might very well have just been a coalescing of supernatural energies, rather than anything sentient and tangible - stung deep.
She recalled the moment of their retreat, and her lips curled slightly downwards. What to most looked to be little more than a twitch was a deep frown when etched into Katsuko's features. She did not condemn it - retreat was simply another tool to be used in warfare, to grant those falling back a chance to regroup and reassess. But even so, it had felt far too close to running away for her liking. It was better than making some ill-fated last stand, like so many heroic fools seemed intent on subjecting themselves to, but there was no denying the bitterness it instilled.
Walking home, Katsuko glimpsed the plush toy she'd been gifted in the Atelier, spotting it through a gap in her bag that she had seemingly not quite closed properly. It was a very obviously stylised thing. A smaller body, a larger head, rounder eyes of a bright green contrasting against the black of its 'fur'... It bore a remarkable resemblance to a character from a popular animated movie, whose name she could not quite place. She supposed it mattered little. It was a tangible and lingering reminder of the group's failure.
The figurine was no better. It was a fairly well-crafted thing, that she could not deny. No seams were present, no errant brushstrokes or signs of mass manufacturing, every detail had been moulded and coloured with remarkable precision... Indeed, she could recognise that it was a fine piece that she would have, in other circumstances, quite happily have displayed upon her shelf. But that did not change the fact that it reminded her of a failed operation. There was a temptation to throw both out, and cast their existence from her mind, but her grip never loosened on either when she came to a nearby bin.
Katsuko supposed that they, being remnants of the supernatural realm, still held the potential to clue her in on how to approach the Atelier and its residents. She did not think further on it. There was no need.
"I'm home." Katsuko called out as she stepped through the threshold. The call went out to nobody in particular, and she did not wait for a response before putting away her shoes and jacket. Even in the midst of her own home, Katsuko's movements were calculated to the last inch. Her muscles did not so much as twitch without her permission, her belongings were placed into the exact same spots as they always were, and - whether through habit or conscious thought - the same foot stepped into the house first, as it had done so every day for many years prior.
Though there was no response, Katsuko could hear a voice coming from the living room. She was a little surprised. Not at the fact that there was someone else there - it was her father's home as much as it was hers, after all. Rather, she was surprised to fin that her father was there at that particular time, on that particular day.
"I don't care how long you have to stay," she heard him say, in a tone as sharp as a dagger's point, "That report *will* be on my desk by tomorrow morning." There was a slight pause, and during it, Katsuko could hear the faint babbling of someone on the other end of the line. Their tone and their words were lost on her, but her father cutting them off was not. "Why are you making me repeat myself? I. Don't. Care. Do you know how much money we stand to lose if you're late with that report? If you're that worried about missing a single birthday, then go home. Just don't expect to have a job when you come back."
Katsuko saw the scowl on her father's face, lit white by his smartphone's glowering screen. He ended the call before a response could be made and sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose before muttering something to himself. She could not hear what he said in that moment either, but the tone was not lost on her. Before she could make a decision on whether to slip quietly by and let him cool down, or approach to announce her presence, he turned and caught sight of her. First at the edge of his vision, and then his vision proper as he turned around fully.
"Katsuko! You're late tonight." He said. His tone was light and casual, matching the smile he wore perfectly. Both were genuine - Katsuko knew her father well enough to tell that much. It did not take much work, therefore, to extrapolate that he did not disapprove of the change in her schedule, but was perhaps simply curious about it.
"I was out." She responded simply. She let the statement hang in the air a little before elaborating, speaking in a calm monotone. "I spent some time at the arcade with others."
"You were with friends?" Her father asked. Despite her being careful not to insinuate that any of the people she'd ascended the tower with were friends, he'd come to the conclusion anyway. Before she could correct him, however, he continued on. "Did you win anything good?"
He seemed so interested that Katsuko simply could not bring herself to clarify that they were not her friends. Colleagues and peers, perhaps, but not friends. That aside, she supposed it would have been odd to say she'd gone to the arcade with complete strangers she had no affection for.
Katsuko produced the plush and figurine, then stepped a little closer so her father could inspect them. He did so briefly, and returned his gaze to her when she spoke again.
"We won these together. It took longer than I'd accounted for." More monotone, as if the words had been spat out by a machine.
"Did you have fun with them?" Her father sounded interested, and - if she was not mistaken - a little hopeful. The entire experience had been a troublesome one, and embarrassing at times, but to say that would have invited more questions than she cared to answer. Thus, she lied.
"Yes, I did."
Something curious flashed onto his features - relief. That was what she thought it was, at least. He didn't let it linger there for long, however. Certainly not long enough for her to be certain about it.
"I'm glad to hear it." He responded. His smile grew a little warmer, but before she had a chance to try and interpret why, he shifted the conversation. "Did you get anything to eat while you were out? I was just about to heat something up, if you want me to put in some extra for you."
Katsuko nodded.
"If that's alright."
"Of course. Go on up and get changed, it'll be done soon."
With dinner - or, more specifically, the remains of last night's - being taken care of, Katsuko made her way to her room. The first order of business was to place the two items upon empty spots on one of her many shelves, and arrange them so they did not look too out of place. It would have seemed odd for her to hide them away, after all. Not that her room was a hotspot of activity - even her father only came in occasionally - but she thought it better to take the precaution than try and make up an excuse.
After a step back, Katsuko looked upon her shelves to admire her handiwork. A pang of bitterness still pervaded her at the sight of the plush and her figurine, but the memories they evoked were not wholly unpleasant. She thought of the three she'd ventured into the Atelier with, the feats they'd performed in the face of adversity, the daring escape from some slavering beast... She blinked, and ceased her reminiscing. There would be time enough for it later. Time was of the essence when it came to rescuing Motojima, and every second she spent congratulating herself for participating in a group effort was time wasted. Doubly so when the group effort - despite how well they'd worked as a team, she begrudgingly admitted - had amounted to little more than a photo and some trinkets.
With her newest display items arranged, Katsuko moved to settle in for the evening, but not before stealing one last, lingering, glance at the items she and her allies had fought so hard for.