2026-06-17: Something Interesting
- Log: Something Interesting
- Cast: Kazusa Motojima, Tsumugi Kujaku
- Where: Shimokitazawa - Peacock Silk
- OOC Date: June 17, 2026
- IC Date: Monday, November 26, 2012
- Summary: Kazusa decides to brave PEacock Silk again, and this time gets to meet the enigmatic propietor. The two get into a discussion of a number of things, and then an offer is made.
(|======================= Shimokitazawa - Peacock Silk =======================|)
-================================================ Tokyo/Shimokitazawa Ward ====-
Peacock Silk roosts in a restored three-story Taisho building; the front is clad
with shiny copper in verdant green, interrupted by a slim front of brick,
suggesting the building grew together. A little lacuna brings one past Peacock
Silk's windows and into a suddenly-quiet enclosure - surrounded by traditional
burnt-cedar siding, with a flower bed, stone benches, trash and recycling (a
minor miracle in Tokyo) and a vending machine holding truly eccentric drinks,
served cold.
Peacock Silk proper takes up most of the street level of the building. The
entrance is not on the street, but a bit out of the way -- there is a door, now
barred and false, with a tiny placard (too small to be seen from any distance)
stating 'That Way' with a helpful arrow. The shop's entrance has double doors,
guarded by a wrought-iron gate featuring an Art-Nouveau outline of a peacock
with tail in full spread, standing atop a banner reading PEACOCK and SILK to the
left and right.
The store's interior is starkly modern: light wood flooring and white walls,
interrupted with the shop's goods, artisanal tools mounted behind the counter,
and - where a vast space of white makes an irresistible canvas - large pieces of
black-and-white art, rotating periodically. The register and checkout is on your
right as you come in, along with a small display of old-fashioned scales and
assaying tools, doubtless for show. To the entrance's left is a ramped platform
with stout wooden perches, several of different heights. The store's mascot, a
real live peacock, often perches here, peering in judgment on customers and
surveying his domain. (The bird accepts snacks.)
The back of the shop is ruled by a long counter, loosely split into thirds - one
space for glittering jewelry on busts and in glass cases and on twinkling
stands. Another for leather goods, white and black and brown and red; purses and
belts, chokers and bracelets galore. Towards the back, more complete outfits,
with several mannequins bearing signature pieces or unique offerings, often in
dramatic poses. The staff maneuver them now and then; sometimes when a customer
isn't looking.
Towards the far end of the shop, several changing booths have been formed from
interior dividers, holding the basics -- some room to maneuver, somewhere to
hang up clothes, and several mirrors to check yourself. Stepping right outside
of the changing voice is dazzling -- many of the store's modern track lightings
are skewed just so, producing a spotlight effect, like stepping out on stage.
Alone in the world. The perfect visual baptism to celebrate a new individual.
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Kazusa's first visit--well, the Homunculus' first visit, really--was less than great for the Homunculus, but Kazusa can... at least try to compartmentalize the experience. She wasn't in control at the time, and Hazuki encouraged her to go back. And Kazusa did go back, only to be greated by... Peacock Silk's jeweler and the actual talking peacock sitting on the floor of the shop making glitter bombs out of gatchapon capsules. And somehow she neded up with two she had to try and dispose of without causing even more of a mess.
It was, perhaps, not a great first impression but Kazusa told herself it was just because she was still tired, that she was freaking out about the talking peacock a little, that maybe she just caught them in... a slow moment. ... Yeah, that was probably it. Besides, all the best designers were a little eccentric, right?
And so she found herself here after classes, dressed in Shujin's winter uniform. Aside from the school uniform, she's ditched the pink headband her Homunculus wore, and she's back to wearing several pairs of silver bracelets on each wrist and pink nail polish. Her purple eyes are a mix of cool and disaffected and uncertain, though she's trying to hide the latter.
Kazusa took a slow breath at the door and opened it, pointedly looking down to make sure she didn't step on anything underfoot. She definitely doesn't want glitter getting on her shoes. But with the area around her feet hopefully clear, she looks into the shop further as she steps in.
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
Trips to Peacock Silk are always eventful in some way or another.
Kazusa's first, after all, was enough to cause her to hesitate at the precipice, and it wasn't even really her first trip. What must it be like, to have experiences in a place like this, but not have experiences in a place like this?
Her second - her first, truly - is what inspires the wary way she steps inside, eager to avoid the messy chaos that might ensue the second she steps past that threshold.
And her third...
... sees her stepping past that entryway into blissful silence.
It's disarming how... at rest everything is. No glitter. No enthusing, eccentric jeweler. No talking peacock. Just... nothing, save the winter wind buffeting at Kazusa's back seconds before the door closes.
Well -- that, and
https://youtu.be/iIYkYfl_4v0
'CANDY CANDY' playing its adorable melody, piped through the store's speakers.
It's not blaring, but Kyary Pamyu Pamyu's latest sugar-sweet single is assuredly the solitary sound that greets Kazusa Motojima as she steps inside PEacock Silk. No boisterous peacocks or bursting glitter bombs. Just kawaii pop.
It almost looks as if the place might be completely empty for a few moments--
"Ara. Welcome to Peacock Silk."
--until that level, disaffected voice cuts through that sugarpop like a contrast sharper than a knife.
They're the back, at the open atelier at the rear of the store: reams of scarlet silk unspooling between their hands, they are dressed - as ever - in a style that can really only be said to be their own: it looks almost militaristic at a glance, from the high-collared, formal black jacket frogged with white-silver metallic cording across the front, and understated epaulets on the shoulders, like some heavily stylized 19th century French military coat. It's a staunchly formal affair -- and one that contrasts sharply with multiple other elements of the ensemble, most notable being the black leather leggings they wear and the thick, high- and silver-heeled knee-high black leather boots that accompany them.
Or the fingerless gloves, perhaps -- or the makeup, aggressively black-to-green ombre lipstick and deep, smoky eyeshadow smeared with silvery glitter to make it look like a starry night. Or maybe the flamboyantly large wreathe of blue-green fur decorating their left shoulder, providing a dramatic splash of color to an otherwise monochrome ensemble. Any of these, perhaps, would clash.
The military-style cap they wear, now that matches nicely. If only it weren't tilted at such a jaunty angle.
All this -- and yet for all their dazzling attire, Tsumugi Kujaku is a study in perfect, detached calm as they peer over their shoulder at Kazusa with one piercingly green eye, and welcome her to the store, as if it were her first time coming.
Do they not remember the first time she came here? That can't be true, can it?
And yet that greeting comes all the same, before that green gaze tilts back towards that drape of scarlet in their hands, and they continue to measure once more.
"What can I do for you?"
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Kazusa is still, truthfully, unsettled byu what she did--but also didn't--do. And she's still trying to grapple with the ramifications of everything the Homunculus did.
Silence, though is good. At least on the surface. Silence means she doesn't hear the sound of gatchapon figurines being smashed apart with a hammer and inexplicably swallowed by an equally inexplicable talking peacock.
Well, there is the music. Kazusa pauses, taking it in. Well, you can do worse than recent pop hits.
But Tsumugi's voice draws her attention to the back of the store. "Hello." The eye that scrutinizes Tsumugi is far sharper than the eye of the Homunuclus. She's studying the details and cataloging each one. The French military coat, the cap worn at such a jaunty angle, the leather leggings, the boots, gloves and makeup.
That splash of color from the fur, and the ombre of the lipstick...
All that monocrhome, but it really lets those colors pop. And she thinks she recognizes the style of the jacket, but before she can give voice to that idea...
Her eyes eventually slide back up to meet Tsumugi's eye, as she notes the attitude. Someone calmer and more... serious suits her just fine, after last time.
But she also hesitates--she didn't immediately recognize Yanagi and Pernelle. Tsumugi, however, she does, and her grip tightens on the door for a moment as she lets it close, though she doesn't quite step in.
"I wanted to look around. And ask about your services." There's a brief hesitation. "... Nakao-san encouraged me to come back here."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
"'Come back here.'"
Three words, repeated back to Kazusa Motojima like an echo in a canyon. And for a time, that is all she gets. No answer to the reason why she's here. No response to the fact that Hazuki Nakao recommended her. Nothing. Just three little words.
'Come back here.'
Like Tsumugi was tasting each single syllable word, like a gourmand unsure of what they're consuming.
*shhhwffff*
For several seconds after, there's nothing but the wordless sound of unspooling silk and perky pop. With a deft, casual flourish, Tsumugi grabs the sleek scissors on the countertop, and cuts that sheaf of silk free with smooth confidence.
s l i c e
"But you were never here before."
And then they finally speak.
The thought is a simple one. It's also not true even if one discounts the Homunculus -- she was here, after all, when Pernelle and Yanagi were, and Tsumugi knows this full well. But that's not the point.
The beauty of language is in its subtleties.
Like the way someone can wipe the slate clean on past history without even directly addressing it.
With a metallic clink, those scissors settle on the countertop of Tsumugi's atelier. And it's only then that the boutique's owner turns and faces Kazusa fully, heels -=CLICK=-ing in unison with the motion in a way that cuts through even the sounds of CANDY CANDY streaming throughout the store.
"It was a shame about Hazuki." The words come calm and unbothered as they approach, one hand on hip, the other dangling at ease at their side. "She was fascinating."
It's an effortless little lament -- one that is punctuated by the way they ease themself back up against the cashier counter, in much the same position they took - minus a Saika - when Kazusa's Homunculus first visited this place.
"But if you want to benefit from what we can provide," they begin, the emphasis on that you subtle but there.
"... You just need to answer one question for me."
Their head tilts. Those green eyes are still so bright under the veil of their cap's visor as they regard Kazusa, and offer up a very specific question:
"What kind of person do you want to be, Kazusa Motojima?"
The same question they asked her Homunculus, and the Homunculus failed to answer to their satisfaction.
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
HAving her own words repeated back to her doesn't do anything to put Kazusa more at ease. She's still standing by the door, one hand on it, still ready to leave again if told to.
The silence afterwards might be worse. Her eyes track the scissors sliding through the silk. There's a faint flicker of curiousity what she might be working on, but only a faint one.
She was here, with Pernelle and Yanagi, but Kazusa doesn't rush to stop her. Because even if Tsumugi didn't know about that visit... there's still the visit her Homunculus made. She scrutinizes Tsumugi, and slowly lowers her hand from the door handle, though she doesn't step further inside.
She knows the Homunculus wasn't her, but it's a little hard to separate herself from that other version of herself. What she might've been, if she'd turned out exactly like her father wanted.
And the fact that she's still trying to pretend to be that version, just to try and keep her parents off her back a little bit so she can breathe in her own home.
She startles at the sound of that CLICK, though she quickly smoothes over her composure just as quickly.
But at referencing what happened with Hazuki, Kazusa tenses and averts her eyes. Thinking about her... brings up a well of complicated feelings, that she still doesn't understand.
She still finds herself sketching the outline of Hazuki's Transmutation form, in the moments when her hand wants to be busy and she has no direction to guide it with.
"... yeah," she agrees, trying to keep her voice calm.
She's grateful for the quick change of topic, though. She catches that emphasis. There's a frown at the mention of a question, but it doesn't truly hit her until it's asked.
... Oh. Now she remembers. That other version of her answered it once before.
Kazusa stares at Tsumugi for a moment, weighing the anwer in her mind. What she really wants is not something she voices often. Though there are a great many Persona users who know of her interests now, thanks to having gone to her studio, she still hasn't talked about her own ambitions that much.
And she thinks back to her last visit, how Yanagi and Pernelle changed their attitudes once she was frank about just how much Pernelle unsettled her.
She lightly crosses her arms in front of herself. "... I'd like to be a character artist and work in video games, like my grandparents. But my father hates the work that my grandparents do, so I don't talk about it much."
The difference is that her grandparents serve as an inspiration for her, not a mandate.
But there is a long pause as she considers further. That's all true, but... given her experiences in her Atelier, it also feels... incomplete. She slowly pushes a strand of hair behind an ear before her arm settles back on the other. "... and I'd like to stop tearing down the people around me," she confesses, her voice unsteady for a moment.
Sometimes she fears she's been too warped by her father for that to happen, but she's going to keep trying regardless.
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
What's the difference between dreams and ambitions?
With the invocation of Hazuki's name, Kazusa flinches. Hooded green eyes track the aversion of the Shujin girl's own with a calm, distant kind of curiosity. There's tension there. Conflict. Uncertainty.
... yeah.
"Mm."
Tsumugi takes it in quietly and without judgment or real, outward reaction.
And then they move on, just as easily.
The proprietor of Peacock Silk is a calm counterpart to the insanity that their partners-in-crime are capable of. Like an eye of a proverbial storm, there is no manic energy in Tsumugi's questioning, in their motions -- just laconic leisure as they lean against the counter. Perfectly still. Perfectly calm.
But just because the eye is calm, doesn't mean the storm isn't there.
It just becomes all the more pronounced because of it.
For now, though, they're content to wait for the answer to their question. And when it comes, their sole response - at the moment - is the owlish tilt of their head, the fractional lift of their brows, and the intonation of a single, disaffected,
"Ara."
There's certainly things that they could say about Kazusa's dreams. Especially as it relates to her father -- especially so, considering her Homunculus' simplistic and telling answer to that very same question. It is clear to look at them they have already made an assessment by the time that confession slips past Kazusa's lips.
But instead, for right now?
... and I'd like to stop tearing down the people around me.
"The Demon Queen."
It's this that Tsumugi chooses to focus on.
"That's why it called you that, isn't it? Your Homunculus."
Black-lacquered nails clik-clak-clik in a steady four-beat procession across the glass of the cashier countertop. Those bright greens inspect Kazusa curiously.
"You're ashamed of that title. At the reputation associated with it."
Because they're curious.
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Maybe it's best Kazusa doesn't get a chance to let her thoughts linger on Hazuki. (Then again, this also means she won't be able to resolve those complicated feelings easily, but that's a problem for later Kazusa to grapple with.)
Kazusa's having a hard time getting a read on tsumugi--but that might not be all that surprising, given the combination of a lack of outward manic energy and Kazusa's lack of reading others. By contrast, though, Kazusa is tense, trying to reign in her reactions, yet still revealing herself through those crossed arms, those eyes that never quite relax but stare with scrutiny, the ways she fidgets and never settles... and how she stays by the door, just in case she ends up unwelcome again.
And there's a light frown at that single, disaffected 'Ara'. Which does little to help Kazusa divine more about the proprieter.
But she tenses much more noticeably as Tsumugi invokes that title, hands gripping her arms much more tightly as they stay crossed in front of her. And she's unable to hide the surprise on her face as Tsumugi invokes the Homunculus.
"... so you were there, then." She seems to weigh something, then drops both arms and gives Tsumugi a polite bow. "Thank you, for helping free me from that thing."
But when she rights herself her arms cross again, and she offers anod. "But yes. That's why." But at the mention of the reputation, Kazusa shrugs a little. It's a little too forced to be casual. "My reputation..." Kazusa lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah. But I'm stuck with it. Or... whatever that thing did while it was passing herself off as me."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
A placid lake, Tsumugi Kujaku is. Calm, pristine, and beautiful on the surface.
But looking past that offers nothing, really, but the murky dark of the waters below.
It's a strong and seemingly effortless poker face, and one Tsumugi maintains even as a frown alights itself on Kazusa's. They consider her - and the way she tenses all the more at that title they so casually drop - with that same, steady air. It's true, it's difficult to read.
But it's also free from shame, or judgment. From criticism or sympathy. If Kazusa Motojima ever needed freedom to air her grievances and sins without a hint of condemnation -- she has it right now, in that quiet, neutral stare.
'Thank you,' she offers with that perfunctory bow of gratitude. Green eyes dip and rise with her descent and ascent, thoughtful. "Hazuki asked. And it had something I wanted," they say, in that laconically blunt way of theirs. "So I stood to gain. Besides..."
One hand lifts. And it gestures at Kazusa, palm up.
"... You're the one who really freed yourself. Aren't you?
"Now the only question is: 'what do you want to do with that freedom?'"
Tsumugi straightens after this -- after they muse on Kazusa's name and reputation. And as she crosses her arms and tries to play off how invested she is, Tsumugi starts to move again, the click of their heels matching perfectly to the beat of that bright and bubbly song piping in around them as they carry the tailor towards the display case at the west end of the shop. A single, fingerless-gloved hand lifts to curl a finger in invitation for Kazusa to follow. If she wants; Tsumugi does not stop, nor insist.
As if it was entirely her choice to follow, or stay.
"You are. People have decided you are one thing, and that's how they will always see you; it'll taint their perception for years, even after you drift apart." The words come suddenly; Tsumugi's tone is a measured thing as they fold arms over their luxuriously-appointed chest, gaze fixed on the selection of jewelry and leatherwork on display in that case.
"Your friends. Your peers. Your father. They will all try to force you into the box they perceive you fit. 'The Demon Queen'; 'The Happy Princess'; the spoiled rich girl; the dutiful daughter." A hand lifts up, pale fingers cupping Tsumugi's chin as their brows lift.
"... But there's strength in knowing how you're perceived. You can use it; you can defy it. You can embrace it, on your own terms. You can't outrun the things you've done. But why run? Do you know what it means, being a Demon Queen?"
Tsumugi tilts their head to regard Kazusa with those bright green eyes.
"Anything you want it to be. As long as you make it your own."
And then they shift back towards that display case.
"It's no different with your father. You're awake now, Kazusa. That means the power to become what you want to be is yours. You don't have to settle for dreaming of it."
The difference between dreams and ambitions.
Nothing more than the will to reach out and grasp it.
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Kazusa's never been one for expressing herself freely--or at least, not expressing her real self. There is a reason she earned the title the Demon Queen, after all. So many feelings built up, twisted, left to escape and lash out at others...
But maybe she can use that freedom Tsumugi's lack of judgement might offer. If she can get past her own self-judgement, at least.
"Something you wanted..." Kazusa frowns. "... and what was that?" The only thing Kazusa wanted was to just get out of there and take her life back--she's vaguely aware that some others might have received some... items, from her Atelier, but... from the Homunculus...?
'.. You're the one who really freed yourself. Aren't you?'
Kazusa is quiet for a moment, casting her mind back. That Cocoon, the way she had shouted at people who couldn't hear her to leave... The voice that had asked her those pointed questions...
The voice of her Persona. That came from somewhere deep within herself.
The Great Labor she must undertake...
"... yeah. I guess so," Kazusa agrees, with a sigh. "... but I still never would've gotten away from that... thing, on my own."
She has no easy answer to the follow-up question, though. She looks to the side. "... I'm still figuring that one out."
When Tsumugi gestures, though, Kazusa watched them for a moment longer, and finally decides to accept it for the invitation that it is. She lets her arms drop to her sides, her pace much more brisque as she walks over to join the tailor. There is some clear curiosity as she looks in the case, despite her efforts to look unbothered, but she turns her head to look at Tsumugi as they continue speaking.
Her reputation, her status... she's all too keenly aware of those things; they consume her thoughts for far too much of the day. But she makes a quiet, dismissive sound as she hears 'The Unhappy Princess'. But not because it isn't true.
"Yeah, well. I embraced the title of The Demon Queen and look where it got me." She looks back at the display as she keeps talking, still seeming tense despite dropping my arms. "It was supposed to keep my father off my back and he still found out about my studio. About my hobbies." Another small, bitter sound. "Everybody does, now. I don't know-- I don't know what to do with that."
She pushes some long, straight black hair behind her ear. "Mina Harker won't-- I can't use her to fight my father off. Not my real one, anyway. The only way I'm dealing with my father is just--waiting until I'm old enough tmove out."
she's quiet for a moment, reflecting. The Unhappy Princess reminded her... without looking at the store's owner she says, "... and the story you were reading last time sucks."
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
What did they want?
The proprietor of the Peacock's gaze lids.
"Materials," they say simply,
"for my work."
It's both straightforward and barely informative, that answer -- and punctuated by the way a gloved hand reaches out to tap the surface of that glass case with one exquisitely-manicured fingernail, as if demonstrably, as if to draw attention to the artisanal works within.
"There's value to be found in those other spaces, if you know how to look for it. The things this shop makes wouldn't be possible without the meta materials in Ateliers and the spaces like them. But that's not everything. Money, information. Access. All these things allow you to influence the 'real' world in a way others can't."
Which brings them, inexorably, towards the state of Kazusa's life as she sees it now: trapped, still, in the shadow of her father, in the truth of her exposed. Tsumugi looks largely indifferent to Kazusa's plight, insomuch as it does not seem to affect them towards sympathy or disdain. They simply listen as Kazusa speaks, in wordless, uncritical quiet.
... and the story you were reading last time sucks.
Until Kazusa declares this.
"It's a story about the beauty of self-sacrifice," Tsumugi says simply, breaking their quiet with calm matter-of-factness, "despite the ugliness of mankind. But I never saw it like that." Arms folding, Tsumugi tilts their head, those vivid green eyes staring at their opaque reflections in the glass.
"The Swallow and the Prince are exalted in heaven as the most precious things of the city. Only after giving away every part of themselves for the sake of others are they acknowledged. But never by the people. They gave everything away and for the people, and the people's response was to throw them away for becoming unsightly. That's the reality of sacrificing yourself for the sake of others' happiness. Just like your Homunculus would have done."
The Happy Princess, siting in her tower. Waiting to give away all of herself for the sake of the father that Kazusa now feels like she has no recourse against.
"Your problem was embracing that title in the way others perceived it," Tsumugi says abruptly, shifting the topic back to Kazusa proper. "Becoming as people want to see you is just another way of giving away part of yourself. Don't validate them. Make them acknowledge you as you are."
That green gaze shifts to look down at Kazusa.
"You have a remarkable gift, now. You were breathtaking when ripped it from the clutches of that parasite. It would be a tragedy to waste it."
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Kazusa's gaze shifts to Tsumugi as they give that wonderfully evasive answer. "... 'Material' is pretty vague, you know. Consiering you were rummaging around in my Atelier... do you want to tell me what exactly it was you took?" What she really wants to know is if it's going to affect her somehow.
But she lets her attention be drawn to the tapping of that case, following the finger. "... 'meta materials'. Like that-- that thread from the Cocoon I was trapped in?" She's listening. Materials and access she doesn't understand yet, but... "I found some money in Mementos. I still don't understand how that's even possible."
Kazusa turns, then, to look at Tsumugi as they get into the story. When 'Kazusa' was here she seemed to gravitate towards the last expressed position on the story. "Yeah. I get that. Self-sacrifice, how nice, very noble. My problem is--" Kazusa has had a lot of thoughts. She hasn't had a chance to articulate them yet, so it takes her a moment. "The Prince use to be alive, right? An then he became a statue. He spent all of his life just--oign whatever he wanted, not caring about other people, and just... dancing or going to parties or whatever. he ignored everyone else around him. If he had cared then, he could've helped way more people than he did as a statue."
"And-- he practically begged the Sparrow to say so he could keep helping people, and he doomed the Sparrow to freeze when Winter came. Just because-- he was trying to make up for his own selfishness doesn't mean he should be allowed to hurt his friend over it!"
The arms are crossed agian, and Kazusa looks away. "... I don't know. It just feels like... he should owe the people a lot more, to make up for all the time he spent ignoring them. It's great he got to Heaven and all, but... did he really do enough?"
Kazusa definitely isn't projecting here.
Maybe she's making her own sacrifice, trying to withdraw from others, to keep herself from potentially being able to hurt more people.
"Yeah, well," she says finally. "That Homunculus sucked too."
But she'll look back to Tsumugi, looking entirely discontent still as the topic shifts. "Yeah, well... I don't like myself as I am very much."
There is a startled blink, and Kazusa draws back slightly. "B-breathtaking?" Nobody's ever described her like that.
Kazusa's not sure how to take it.
She quickly turns away. "R-- right. I'm trying not to I just-- how am I supposed to use my Persona to deal with someone like my father?"
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
"Was the statue the Prince, or just an echo of his sentiment?"
The question comes, unobtrusive yet with clarion clarity, at the heels of Kazusa Motojima's conflicted thoughts on the matter of The Happy Prince. A fingerless-gloved hand lifts, palm up, elbow nestled in its opposing palm, at the question; an ambivalent gesture that underscores both the importance of it, and yet paradoxically, Tsumugi's own detachment.
"The Prince lived life in a bubble far away from the concerns of the people. The Happy Prince saw their concerns, but could do nothing on his own. Is the Happy Prince that had the Sparrow give all of himself away, the Happy Prince who experienced sorrow, really the Prince who lived in his blissful solitude, or just the reflection of his regret?"
Is his sacrifice enough to earn Heaven? Is his sacrifice of the Sparrow worth it, for the Sparrow's own rewards. Tsumugi has a different thought:
"I always wondered: if the Prince of flesh and bone returned, seeing the sights the statue could see, with the legs to move the statue lacked...
"What would he do?"
What would she do?
Ultimately, Tsumugi Kujaku's slender shoulders slip out a shrug.
"In the end, self-sacrifice for the sake of your own guilt is still self-service. And self-sacrifice for the expectation of others makes you lesser than what you could be."
Still; Kazusa startles at that word. 'Breathtaking.' And Tsumugi...
Just cants their head an owlish angle to the right, regarding her with the mild curiosity of shallowly-hefted brows. B-breathtaking?
"Breathtaking," they reiterate, as natural as can be, before they turn away from both Kazusa and that case just as naturally.
"How you deal with your father depends entirely on the person you want to be. You want to become an artist. How can he stop you? Take away your money? You have a source of income he can't even touch. Forbid you from practicing your craft? There's an entire hour of your life now he has no sway over. Civilization expects you to live in a gilded cage of obligation. But you've already stepped outside of it. You just haven't fully realized it yet."
Once more, Tsumugi returns to that front desk. And as they withdraw a sizable ledger from underneath it, they note, calmly,
"You don't like yourself as you are. That's why you were able to free yourself. So why keep holding yourself back from what you want to be?"
With the creak of its spine, that ledger is opened. Tsumugi thumbs through it, attention on the pages even as they continue.
"The materials we took from your Atelier won't affect you," they suddenly note, as if aware of Kazusa's concerns. "But we did take it from your Atelier. The materials we take from Ateliers, Mementos, the Dark Hour... we craft them into the clothing and jewelry we make here to better empower our clients."
They're still looking through their ledger as they offer:
"One article of clothing. Free of charge."
They don't say why. They just look up, with that piercing gaze.
"So tell me -- what do you want?"
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Kazusa lets out a frustrated sigh. "If he's a reflection of the Prince's regrets, then what's the difference? It didn't sound like to me that the 'real' Prince had any regrets. He lived a sheltered life. Not that-- not that I think it excuses his ignorance."
Kazusa frowns for a long while in deep thought. She hadn't thought about that. And yet she is thinking in terms of herself, nonetheless. "... if he really had regrets, then I'd hope he'd act on them," is what she eventually says.
She's trying, for herself. She just... doesn't know how to untangle some of what she's done.
"Mmm." She looks down a little. "... she said something like that to me, too..." she muses quietly, but still loud enough for Tsumugi to hear. She shudders softly at the memory of her Awakening. Empowering, yes, but she came so very close to losing so much of herself.
The repitition of 'Breathtaking' just makes Kazusa turn her head a little bit more away. There might be some color on her cheeks that wasn't there before. "If you say so."
"A source of money I have to go fight creepy monsters to get. An hour of the day that is extra creepy." Kazusa's mostly just being argumentative because she is sometimes like that. But after a moment she sighs, bringing a palm up to press it firmly against her forehead. "... but I see your point."
She's already used that money she got from Mementos, after all.
Her eyes track the proprietor cross the room. "I'm trying, it's just... not that easy. The Homunculus... wrecked some things that money or an extra hour in the day canm't fix."
Her gaze drops to the floor for a moment as she leans against the case, drawing herself into the deep morass of unhappiness that is the situation surrounding her friend Wakana.
But she blnks and suddenly looks up again. "Oh. Good," she says of the lack of harm to herself. "Wait--so is everything here...?" She stands upright again, looking down at the case in wonder.
Until her attention snaps back. "Free of charge?" She's suspicious for a moment--but then she reasons that, it must be some kind of exchange, for whatever materials were collected from her Atelier.
She still wants to know what, exactly, they took, but... she also knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I'll... I'll have to think about it." She finally decides. Maybe something for the winter season? Winter Break is soon...
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
... if he really had regrets, then I'd hope he'd act on them.
Green eyes contemplate Kazusa for a precious singular second.
"Hm."
And just like that, they're gone.
What is left is Tsumugi indolently half-draped on that countertop in all their fabulous finery, loose strands of raven-black hair spilling over one of those vibrant, hooded eyes from beneath the brim of their hat as they consult that ledger. If Kazusa chooses to look, what can be gleaned past what Tsumugi's body obfuscates is just hand-written notes. Jobs, dates. What looks like art drawn here or there, inexplicably. Of designs? It's hard to say, and Tsumugi certainly doesn't give much time to dwell on it.
"'The secret to happiness is freedom, and the secret to freedom is courage,'" quotes Tsumugi in answer to Kazusa's grievances about the extra-creepy nature of her newfound power and the possibilities therein. A joke? A tease? With the bland deadpan of their voice, it's so very difficult to tell. They do not quite look up just yet from their work, not even as Kazusa eaves out that sigh, concedes... and ruminates on the difficulty of rebuilding. They are silent for a time after that. And then:
"When a caterpillar undergoes metamorphosis, the enzymes in the chrysalis completely break down its body tissues into sustenance. It's torn apart to become the building blocks of its own self. New limbs, wings, even entire organs are rebuilt. The caterpillar lacks the complex cerebral cortex necessary to experience the profound pain of this moment when they are dissolved and reborn from their own destruction."
shwff flips the ledger page.
"Humans aren't caterpillars. You can't ignore the pain you experienced when you were broken down. You've been exposed to what you were."
shwff
"You've lost things. Reputation."
shwff
"Relationships."
shwff
"But that's why your rebirth has true meaning. You can let yourself get lost in the regret... or you can use it for the strength it is to truly break out of your cocoon. The choice is yours.
"But you wouldn't be here if you weren't capable of embracing that freedom."
The book closes. And Tsumugi looks up, regarding Kazusa as they offer that final thought, that lidded gaze considering her thoughtfully.
"Mm. What you decide should be what you truly want. Anything after this will have a variable cost" variable?? "attached... but consider this payment for services rendered. And for showing me something interesting."
And so that gaze drops once again.
"Take all the time you want to decide. These doors are always open to you now."
<Pose Tracker> Kazusa Motojima has posed.
Why are they always draping themselves on counters or people? That's so weird, right? Or maybe it's just... eccentric, if you're a famous creator.
... No, it's still a little weird. Kazusa keeps that thought to herself, though.
"Uh huh." Kazusa... does not quite recognize that quote. But she'll be looking it up later, that's for certain.
But they arch an eyebrow at that description of a butterfly's metaphorphosis. Accurate, but... "How poetic.," she remarks dryly. "And no, I can't. I don't know if you've ever been stuck in one of those things..." There is a small shudder, at the memory.
And her forced dismissive attitude flashes to something pained as Tsumugi mentions relationships.
Her rebirth. She had to commit to changing--and the change she wants to make is to be a better person... even if doing that feels so incredibly hard. "I'll consider that," she eventually concedes.
"And I don't suppose you'd tell me what that something is?" she asks, arms still crossed.
Not today, it seems.
But she gives a short nod at the standing invitation. "... thank you. I'll... think on it." She pulls out her phone and checks it. "... but for now I have to run. Have a good day."
And with that she strides for the door, though her grip is a bit firmer when she reaches for it this time, before she vanishes back into the city.