Tsugumi Matsunae

𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.

CODA: THE FINALE

“I’d be delighted, Miss.” He’ll nod, moving to match pace as he walks. “This place… It’s looking better by the day. Someone must be hard at work on the renovations.” He’ll use that for lack of a better word. It was true, anyway. Even with the base code, the amount of effort this took must have been enormous. The speed of recovery was no less impressive. It seems the Reapers from Shinjuku could be constructive, when they chose to be.

The evening glow of the city was only matched by the encroaching shade of unlit alleyways, adding a layer of evening mystery foreign to Shibuya. Something about it was… Exciting, in a dangerous sort of way. The very rhythm of this place was different than his own, a well composed tune in a different key. A song of a whole new genre.

Joshua, of course, knew he was very out of place. In a sense, this could be seen as trespassing, but the evening was much to lovely to spare much of a thought to frivolous things like that. “I’m Yoshiya, by the way. Yoshiya Kiryu. But you can call me Joshua, if you like.”

The invitation stood, but it didn’t much matter if she decided to take it or not. Violet eyes scanned the city once more, almost as if the stranger couldn’t get enough of the sight. There was something… hopeful about it. Something about those who cared about this place resurrecting it from memory alone. The Shinjuku they knew was dead and gone… But could they make something better?

“Say, what do you like about this city, anyway?”

Something was strange about this young man, but she could not quite put her finger on it. It felt as though he knew that this place was being changed, but how was that possible?

In the end, she settled for the simplest reason: he'd seen Shinjuku before and after. Perhaps he was a visitor from Shibuya, well aware of the city's layout then, but not now, but what are the odds?

Nevertheless, he looked oddly familiar. Tsugumi was certain they've met before, but it was probably for a brief moment — short enough so that she couldn't remember him.

"I'm Tsugumi," she introduced herself, smiling. "Tsugumi Matsunae. Pleasure to meet you, Josh."

As they strolled down the streets, he eventually asked her a question. It left her puzzled, but she supposed it was a method of getting to know each other.

Neku had claimed to ‘not get’ people in his youth. He hadn’t cared to fix that about himself until he’d been forced to, and now, he couldn’t imagine a life without others. Fate was a fan of irony though, it seemed, as the moment he’d become comfortable around, no- dependent on people, everyone was taken away from him.

There hadn’t been anyone to talk to in Shinjuku, the only sounds ones that emanated from Neku himself. Not even his headphones or MP3 player seemed to work there. Any conversation had to come from Neku himself. There wasn’t anyone to talk to (unless you counted the fragmented thoughts that lingered in the ghost-district) but he talked anyway.

He talked to the cousin he’d never gotten to meet. He apologised for taking his death the way he had, and told him he wished he was doing well, wherever he might be now. There was never an answer. He never expected there to be one. He was just. the only person Neku could think of to talk to.

Once he’d returned, he made it part of his schedule to visit the gravestone that he’d so valiantly avoided growing up. He’d come prepared with the most expensive bouquet of flowers he could afford in an attempt to make up for lost time. Who knows, with everything Neku had learned about the afterlife… Maybe he was still out there, somewhere.

He hesitated on his way over to the headstone. He remembered where it was after all of this time, but he couldn’t help but notice her. Though her voice was quiet, her words were clear in the quietness of the cemetery. It wasn’t any of his business. They hardly knew each other. Neku just… felt like he knew her more because of the visions he’d seen of her… They weren’t friends, despite how Neku felt. Still, it felt wrong to just ignore her.

Slowly, he moved to stand by her side, glancing at the name on the tombstone as he tried to discern who she was here to visit. The surname matched her own, and Neku felt his heart drop in his chest.

“I’m… sorry.” It was all he could think of to say.

"Shinjuku was a lost cause, even if he tried to fight it. At least I'm alive to carry on where he stopped," Tsugumi pointed out, dusting her skirt as she rose to her feet. She turned to Neku and did a curtsy. When she noticed the bouquet of flowers, the dots connected and she offered a quiet apology as well.

"I hope you don't mind me accompanying you," Tsugumi requested. "I'd like to know more about you, Neku Sakuraba. The circumstances that we met under weren't... ideal, to say the least."

It truly wasn't. All she knew about him was through the visions she sent out into the world; it could only be deciphered by those with incredibly high Imagination... and Neku was one of the two who received her message, the other being Rindo. They barely had time to breathe before they parted ways, determined right their wrongs.

Man, Rhyme’s work was still fantastic. Being able to break the UG from the RG was magical in itself. Fret looked down at his messages from Tsugumi as he stood outside of the shop. He seemed perked up, his indigo eyes rereading the messages they passed from one to another. He didn’t get to talk to her much during everything, so it was nice to catch up a bit. 

His eyes caught her movement, and he raised a hand and waved back to her. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he gave her his signature smile. “Yeah! This is how we get some quality ‘men!” Regardless of how he said it, he’ll open the door with a hand. He’ll keep it open for her to walk inside.  “Though, there’s two different curry places here. It is *all* so good, too! Though, I kind of have a favorite.” 

A warm, fragrant scent wafted across her nostrils in an instant. After giving Fret a grateful smile, she walked to the back of the restaurant so they could have some privacy. In the midst of his rambling, Fret mentioned a favorite dish, which caught her attention.

Yes, Shiba could remember clearly. The sight of Conductor Matsunae fighting all on his lonesome, drawn out by the panic of Shiba’s Plague Noise tearing into everything. Shiba could remember how his blood had burned when he’d ambushed him, the way Shiba’s heart pumped when the fight started…

Shiba turned his eyes back to Tsugumi. Words that Shiba meant to be comforting emerging before he could think about it. “He fought well.”

“But–back to the topic on hand,” Shiba added quickly, crossing one leg over the other and sitting back against the bench. “A Composer, as I understand it, is responsible for maintaining the rules and fabric of the Underground. Without one, the UG will inevitably fizzle out no matter how hard we try to repair it.”

“So, what do you think, Tsugumi?”

Tsugumi hummed pensively. There was no way to alleviate Shiba's discomfort. It seemed unsettling to be around her too, but she figured if it was her in his shoes...

Her mind spun; it wasn't a thought she wanted to entertain. She retuned herself to Shiba's words as he spoke about how their efforts were for naught if the Composer wasn't around, which implied that Shinjuku still had its Composer.

An idea seeped into her mind. A terrible one.

It was an unusual request, to say the very least. Kaie looked upon the old phone, puzzled, listening to her reason. A reason that made his heart sink, that made it feel sore, putting a small frown on his face. Of course, he doesn’t say anything, he just holds out his hand to receive the phone in question, offering Tsugumi a smile that doesn’t say much, but expresses a willingness at the very least. Though, being honest with himself, he knows that it’s not going to be easy to do what she’s hoping for, but he’s not going to deny Tsugumi this one thing.

Using his free hand, Kaie unlocks his own phone and begins typing, and before long he’s turning the screen to face Tsugumi so she can read what was written; [ I haven’t seen one of these in quite a while! :0 I can tell you’ve taken good care of it. I think I can help you —- or, at the very least, make some small changes. It’s going to take some time, though, so I may have to ask that you leave it in my care. Are you certain you want to do that? :X ]

Kaie's frown didn't go unnoticed. For a moment, Tsugumi wondered if this was beyond his abilities, but he smiled and held out his hand. As she gently placed her phone into his care, she let him inspect him ever so carefully and then type out a message for her to see.

"Thank you. You're too kind," Tsugumi said. She read the rest of his sentence, then waved him off. "It's fine. I'm in no hurry. There's so many things that... well, I don't think I can look at it."

It was far from the truth, but it'd suffice for now. There was no point in making herself sad, but Tsugumi knew she needed a friend to talk to... and Kaie was the person she could probably glean some insight from.

Shiba can’t help but laugh at the fake threat. Not because he found the threat funny. It was the idea that Tsugumi would have helped him to reconstruct Shinjuku and then erased him once they all completed it in a grab for power? Not because he found it funny in of itself. The viciousness and brutality was so profound he might have respected it. (And after what he’d done to her brother, would Shiba really have any right to complain about such a fate?)

Shiba quieted down after a moment, following her at a respectable distance. There was a slight moment of hesitation before he sat with her. His hand dug a lighter from his pocket, and he began to thumb it open and closed.

“It is my understanding that the only way to become Composer is to snuff out the current one. That is the only procedure that exists, no matter what the circumstances are. In the event that the Composer has vacated their position without being ‘formally retired’…? Well, I suppose that would a mess for someone else to sort out.” Shiba’s smile grew a little more plastic. “Do you know what the fate of Shinjuku’s Composer was, Tsugumi?”

Had her brother told her before he’d died?

Tsugumi's answer to Shiba's question was a shake of her head. She had no idea where Shinjuku's Composer was. Her brother was fairly tight-lipped about his duties as the city's Conductor, even more so when she once tried to ask about him.

"I have no idea. I only saw my brother fighting for Shinjuku," she remarked. "Or at least, he tried to. I didn't see anyone else fighting with him."

So she didn’t pay too much attention to her surroundings as she made her way back to the apartment she shared with Kariya. She was just focused on getting home as quick as she could.

Needless to say, the sudden interaction startled her.

She blinked for a moment, staring at the girl. She recognized her, of course she did. She wanted to be mad at the girl, but she just…couldn’t.

“…That’s…” She didn’t know what to say. “…That’s not really necessary.”

She does take Tsugumi’s hand for a moment though, if the other girl was going to make an attempt, then she should too.

“…I accept the apology.” It meant more to her than she would let on. “You all…” She really didn’t know what to say, given the circumstances. “…I’m…just glad you’re all working on getting your home fixed.”

For all the anger and resentment she held over what the Shinjuku Reapers had done, she knew taking it out on Tsugumi wouldn’t change anything. Uzuki had done a lot of growing up those three years.

"I'm glad too. It's coming along together quite nicely," Tsugumi remarked, smiling when Uzuki returned the handshake. "Perhaps a little too quickly. The Souls are returning to where they initially came from... but there's nothing we can do about the Players."

She gestured for the other lady to follow her all the way to a cafe, located not too far from where they were. It was a retro diner, filled with all sorts of food from Italian meals to sweets. Uzuki looked tired and a little pick-me-up seemed like a good opportunity to start their meeting off.

Thankfully, no one else was there except the shopkeeper, who was spending her time cleaning the cafe. When they found a seat and got their menu, Tsugumi continued.

Shiba can’t help but laugh at the fake threat. Not because he found the threat funny. It was the idea that Tsugumi would have helped him to reconstruct Shinjuku and then erased him once they all completed it in a grab for power? Not because he found it funny in of itself. The viciousness and brutality was so profound he might have respected it. (And after what he’d done to her brother, would Shiba really have any right to complain about such a fate?)

Shiba quieted down after a moment, following her at a respectable distance. There was a slight moment of hesitation before he sat with her. His hand dug a lighter from his pocket, and he began to thumb it open and closed.

“It is my understanding that the only way to become Composer is to snuff out the current one. That is the only procedure that exists, no matter what the circumstances are. In the event that the Composer has vacated their position without being ‘formally retired’…? Well, I suppose that would a mess for someone else to sort out.” Shiba’s smile grew a little more plastic. “Do you know what the fate of Shinjuku’s Composer was, Tsugumi?”

Had her brother told her before he’d died?

Tsugumi offered him a grim smile. He truly didn't know what happened afterwards, did he? That she witnessed the fall of Shinjuku from her immobile state. Her attention was then directed to the ground.

"My brother might've still had a fighting chance of saving Shinjuku... but I saw it all: he tried to protect me with whatever he had left," she managed, then snapped out of her self-pity. "His sacrifice was worth it though. We're here now, so we shouldn't mourn."

But her heart said otherwise. She knew that there was a long overdue visit, a long overdue message to write her final words on paper, turn it into a crane and send it into the skies. If there was a way to gather her brother's Soul and reform it, Tsugumi had a feeling she would.

After some arrangements, Tsugumi made her way back to Shibuya, intent on finding Uzuki Yashiro. She was the acting Game Master prior to Shiba taking over. A part of her knew that it was imperative that Shinjuku was rebuilt, Tsugumi felt terrible for leaving Shibuya behind... without making amends or an official apology to The Shibuya Reapers.

It was late at night and most stores were about to close, but that didn't stop Tsugumi from speeding through the streets of Shibuya until she caught sight of Uzuki Yashiro. She rushed forward, tapped the lady on the shoulder and waved at her.

"I was just looking for you. I apologise for the sudden intrusion but perhaps we could have dinner together?" Tsugumi requested. "It's my treat. I know a place that's really good... and that's open late."

She extended a hand.

Tsugumi.​

Tsugumi felt as if she was being strung along by a needle and thread. As each tug intensified, she realised the needler’s purpose: to free her from her stuffed animal. When her Soul reunited with her body, she blinked the red from her eyes until it completely faded.

Shiki Misaki was the first thing – or rather, the first person – she saw. As she glanced around the room, she noticed that they were in an empty cafe; her body had been propped against the wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. Mr. Mew, who was in better shape than ever before, sat on her lap.

When their eyes connected, Tsugumi Matsunae knew what she must do.

“Thank you,” she managed, grasping Shiki’s hands within her own.

Relief shows clear on her face as the young woman manages to part her eyelashes; the corruption dissipates from her gaze after a moment, and Shiki could tell—this was the genuine deal. It was a blessing to meet her, the real her. “Tsugumi…!” she exhales a quiet sigh of respite. She takes the girl’s hands in both of hers as well, holding them for a moment. “Thank goodness.”

She usher her sit up a touch straighter so she’s not slumped against the wall like a rag doll; after all, inanimate wasn’t a good look on her anymore. “Careful,” she said quietly. “You’ve… been through a lot.” She’s sure she needn’t explain much.

“But—you’re safe now,” she reassures her. “My name’s Shiki.” A little laugh resounds as she looks down at the plush in Tsugumi’s lap. “I’m the one who created the doll you’ve been carrying around.” Or should she say, the doll that had been carrying her.

"I know who you are. I could still hear and see everything from Mr. Mew," Tsugumi explained as Shiki assisted her to a more comfortable position. Grabbing a chair, she sat down while gesturing to the seat opposite her. Her eyes scanned the outside of the cafe, alarmed at the mass of Noise gathered right outside.

"I think Noise get more aggressive when they sense a Soul trapped," she remarked. "You can't see them... but there's a war raging out there. The worlds are close to colliding and this is the day of reckoning."

She smiled at the girl, then held up the stuffed animal she grabbed from the floor earlier.