There is police tape on the door to the shop. It's garish against the exterior, yellow marks against unblemished glass doors. When pressed, the door is locked to keep gawkers out; Morioh has never known to fear strangers, and so Yukako only has to lean against the door and let hair wrap around her hand for leverage to break it.
When she'd first heard the news-when Koichi had called her house, and in the background she'd heard the muted sound of her grandfather watching the news, and her heart had soared until the words slowly sunk into sickening focus-Yukako had imagined something far worse. The reality is a lot more mundane: there are papers scattered on the floor, pills and pens knocked over on the vanity, and what looks like ashes spread like a halo across the floor.
No bodies, no gore.
She supposes that's a good thing, but the papers (someone's files? When she bends down to pick one up, she has to squint at the atrocious penmanship but can make out what she assumes is a patient's name) and other casualties of the crime left as is. After it's been investigated, by the police or by the foundation Koichi swears by because Mr. Kujo does, too-did no one even bother to look at this and see the mess left behind?
It won't do. It's been three days and the doors have long since been shut.
The morning after Koichi's call, they did not have plans to walk together, but Yukako knows his route, and stands and waits for him, glowering down the path by Anjuro Rock (he's late) until he comes in to view. There's a sense of relief that washes over her immediately.
He looks tired, which is normal, as he rarely ever seems to actually get enough sleep despite oversleeping almost every day, but there's a different look to the light rings around his eyes.
He doesn't look surprised to see her, but doesn't look up at her with dread and that's somehow more comforting than simply seeing him unharmed. But it's not enough, and while she knows she should ask it doesn't feel reassuring until she's down at Koichi's level, hands on his cheeks and boring holes into his face with a furrowed brow. Not a scar or blemish or bruise. She's slowly learning about these Stands and Josuke's incredible power to repair anything on a whim that Koichi had raved about, but this is the first time she sees it in person.
"Yukako, your nails-" Koichi's voice is flat, an edge of annoyance tinging the words but with enough energy to let his exasperation be known.
"You're alright," Yukako murmurs back, mostly to herself, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
" Yukako."
It's stronger this time, firm and final. That snaps her back to attention, and she withdraws her hands and draws herself back to full height after picking up the school bag by her feet.
They walk in silence for a while, and she swallows her pride and offers a gentle thanks to the delinquent Higashikata.
It's minutes before she says anything, letting her own thoughts fall in order before she disturbs the heavy silence, direct and to the point:
"Koichi. Where is he now?"
He'd been almost too frantic on the phone, adrenaline and anger apparent even on the other end of the land line. He'd shone so bright, that day on the cliff, voice clear and confident-and it had been much the same that night, as until she registered the weight of what he was saying her face flushed and heart swelled with pride.
She notices the grip he has on his bag tighten, knuckles almost white. His expression has been troubled all morning and her shoulders rise, still thinking of what to say, still trying to toe the line between friend and-well, they hadn't made anything official, but-
"We… were so close to cornering him." His words are frustrated, expression dark and while he doesn't want to admit it, his bottom lip trembles when his emotions are this intense. Yukako cannot look away. "We were so close, and he-we didn't know he'd… he was still two steps ahead of us!"
"You said Josuke had a way to track him-"
"We lost it! He cut off his own hand to escape Echoes, Yukako, and… and when we got there, he knew… he knew we'd try to help Miss Aya. H-He …"
Koichi swallows hard, and both his hands are angry fists at his side. "He didn't even… have a shred of respect for her or the other man…"
Bombs, he'd said last night. He could turn anything into a bomb, and not a trace of evidence was left behind.
There was only one body left at the crime scene.
"It's despicable… worse than rotten…!"
They have not talked about that day at the salon. Koichi promised they would, and outside of Cinderella they'd locked pinkies. It felt juvenile and were it anyone else, she would have grimaced, lectured about actions speaking louder than words, but because it is him she feels the warmth of his hand lingering for hours after the fact.
For so long, she had not approached. For one brilliant moment, she had hoped they were finally becoming friends, that the words he'd said inside to- to save her were from the bottom of his heart, running as deep and endless as her own feelings.
Yukako is at a loss for what to say, her own brow furrowing, only thought in her mind to watch the emotions dance across Koichi's face. Another silence wants to fall between them, but something else reaches her ears as he speaks again, too soft to catch.
"Koichi, I didn't hear you," she responds, working hard to keep her voice as level as possible.
"He knew your name."
Footsteps halt. Blood runs cold.
"...Excuse me?"
"He knew your name. He knew who you and Miss Aya, and- and Josuke-he knew I'd called for help, he knew where her salon was-! He knew, Yukako!"
Koichi finally looks up at her again, and there's a lot to take in with the emotions dancing across his face. Frustration seeps through his words more than anything.
(That morning on the cape, when he'd stood over her, victorious, there had been a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach. She'd lost completely, despite all her best-laid plans, world she'd lined up perfectly shattering and shining all the same. The shadow he'd cast had been far larger than she could hope to eclipse in that moment, and while in the moment she'd been content to observe his light from afar, part of her still yearned to be able to reach that level he'd achieved.
She'd been near speechless then.
She is without words, now, in a different kind of way.)
He presses forward without her. When pulled out of her stupor to call out to him, Koichi does not stop walking.
The paperwork all goes to one file she finds after rooting around on a small office to the side. The medicine on the vanity are all prescriptions under Aya Tsuji, vitamins and allergy medication, and Yukako arranges them by date. She doubts the beautician was ever so organized, but without the ability to ask her, it is the best she can do.
She knows this is trespassing, but she's walked past the salon every day, twice a day, and knows by now anything important is gone. No one has been sent to clean this place, yet, and it now falls to her.
She'd been back a couple of times since the afternoon Koichi had followed her and saw her retreat inside. Aya had greeted her the same every time: a lazy smile and level voice, punctuated by a sigh nearly every other sentence. The inside of her salon had always been clean but not sterile, and while no one was allowed inside when she'd had a customer, after the fact she'd always made coffee for the both of them, where they sat at her table with an old picture book between them.
There had almost been a teasing lilt to her voice the first time she came back, asking if she had forgotten something-almost, because Yukako found it impossible to imagine her ever emoting that much.
After that day, Aya never offered her services again. Yukako had asked point-blank one day if anyone had ever come in for a refund.
Oh… my customers get what they need in the end, she'd sighed back, with a smile and a sip of coffee.
There's a diploma for cosmetology school in her little corner office hanging on the wall, when she goes to put her paperwork back in place. On one side of her desk is a framed photograph that's at least a decade old, several girls in high school uniforms at the front of Budogaoka.
Something about the photograph strikes a chord, but when she approaches and pushes the rolling chair parked in front of it to the side, a wheel catches and it knocks against the desk and rattles the whole thing. Something rolls off and makes a distinct clink against the tile.
After a moment of searching, she sees it, silver and shining as it rolls. There's a gold emblem Yukako recognizes on sight with wide eyes.
Lipstick. Her lipstick.
It all falls into place, and Yukako can almost feel herself shaking with joy.
This is how they will find the murderer.
This is how she will bridge the gap between them.
She phones Koichi that night, and he sounds surprised to hear her on the other end, but it doesn't matter.
"Something has to set the face," Yukako begins, standing out in the hall with her back against the wall. The tube of lipstick between her fingers is fresh, and even in the dim light of her hallway the golden emblem shines. It looks like her Stand, now that she really looks, bringing it close to her face to scrutinize.
A pause from the other end. "...What?"
Koichi has always sounded so cute when confused. "I had to wear lipstick. Every thirty minutes to the second, I needed to apply it, or else it wouldn't work. I am going to help you, Koichi."
"Yukako-"
"He knows who I am, correct? Then there is no sense in avoiding me. It benefits us to have as many people looking as possible."
"You… Y-Yukako, I wasn't-"
"Maybe unconsciously. I know your heart is in the right place, and I'm happier than you know. But don't worry about me."
On a whim, Yukako opens the tube as she holds the phone between her shoulder and cheek. This tube has never been used, but there's no mistaking it. It's identical to what she was given before.
Koichi is silent for a long moment, enough to wear her brow furrows. "Speak up."
Nothing. He… hadn't hung up on her? No, she would have heard the line go dead, but if they'd disconnected-
"...I don't think that's going to help."
"Excuse me?"
"Stands… don't linger after someone dies, not like that. Josuke… he said he's seen them disappear before, w-when... when the user goes away."
There's an audible gulp on Koichi's end, and his voice is softer, but even over the phone she can feel the intensity of his words.
"He… knew so much about Miss Aya. If-"
"You're wrong. I know how it works."
"If it were that easy to mess up-"
"-You saw how it ruined my face, Koichi!-"
"-I don't think he would have planned-"
"-It isn't permanent-"
"-His face would have disintegrated- someone would have- "
"Do you think I'm lying?!"
Yukako hears her grandfather's voice from the living room, and doesn't realize she's yelling at the other end until then. She slams the phone down on the receiver and does not stop when it slips off and hangs, clattering to the floor.
Yukako does not go to school the next day, and circles around her street until she's sure her grandfather has left for the day, although he stopped trying to rein her in years ago. A change out of her school uniform and she's careful to tuck the lipstick into a handbag, staring at it this time in the morning sun as though it had the answers inside.
Minoru Takahashi is thirty-five years old and works as a bank teller during the week. Anything else in her file is irrelevant and, quite frankly, illegible in Aya's handwriting.
It's not hard to guess which one is her, as when she steps in line and can see the tellers, there's only one with a gaudy-looking engagement ring.
"What can I do for you today?" she chirps, name tag telling Yukako the rest of what she needs. It would look more natural to have come up here with at least a deposit slip, but she has no time for pretending.
"Are you engaged?" she asks brusquely, and despite the rude inflection Minoru's eyes and entire face are alight, grin across her freckled face nearly splitting it in two, despite it being office hours and prompted by a stranger.
"Ooooh , did you notice?" As if it were impossible to miss the ring when she all but shoves it in Yukako's face. "My darling Yuuta swept me off my feet one day-just like a dream! The wedding's next June, and it can't get here soon enough!"
"Were you a customer at Cinderella?" Yukako interjects, eyes narrowing, knowing full well if she doesn't hurry she'll be stuck here listening to her prattle on.
"The salon? You bet!" The gleam in her eyes soon fall, however, voice coming down from ecstatic to take on a more somber measure. "Miss Tsuji was a miracle worker, she was. What a terrible thing to happen to that woman. Have they caught the bastard who did it yet?"
One hand reaches into her handbag for the lipstick, the other curls into a fist underneath the teller's desk.
"Do you recognize this?" She is aware enough to know she sounds desperate, clipped tone, all but shoving the tube of lipstick into her face but she doesn't care , she needs the answer, needs some shred of proof that the world isn't trying to come undone underneath her.
Minoru is taken aback but takes the tube, lips puckering into a thoughtful frown as she thinks, takes the cap off and tries the color on a knuckle. "What are you talking about? Should I? It's not even my shade. If you need to report it to lost or fou- wait, wait, that's Miss Tsuji's shade, isn't it? Yeah, it totally is!"
"It's from the salon. Your treatment," she continues, leaning farther over the counter and glaring and she's so sick of staring at her face and for all the freckles across her face, full cheeks and beady eyes, Aya's handiwork and absolutely ignorant about it. "Did she make you apply a cream, then? Some sort of blush?!"
"Young lady, don't you raise your voice at me-"
"Stop talking and answer my question! I'm asking if she had you use it-!"
"Is there a problem?" There's suddenly a hand on her shoulder, a security guard with a stern face, and Yukako jumps and bites back the creeping urge to tear the hand clean off, let her hairs crawl down his arm and twist it till he cries.
"Let me go."
She brushes past the guard roughly and lets herself out of the bank, never making eye contact with a single patron except to stare down Minoru one more time, long enough to yank the tube of lipstick back from her hands.
She walks all the way back to the salon without looking up.
The door slams open but by that point her focus is singular, to the tiny corner office, to the desk drawers. Yukako yanks open each and every one, but the results are mundane. Pens and paper clips fall to the floor at her feet, and when the results are that pathetic she goes to the main room. She's seeing red the entire time she tears up the place, pushing wires and headlights and the rolling computer she barely knew how to use aside.
There is nothing else like the lipstick she had.
She circles, and circles, and no matter how many angry circles she paces around the salon, there is nothing. Yukako is burning from the inside out, breathing heavily-she will tear the walls from the foundation if she has to for some shred of evidence she wasn't scammed by a half-rate beautician-
The corner of her eyes burn, and every breath hurts to take, and every single step is magnified by the empty echo-
(-and she is back at her family's old summer home, and Koichi has the door barricaded shut and won't let her in and her hand feels as though it's on fire and she will tear the place asunder, why won't he listen-)
The chair shakes so much when she pulls it out from the table Yukako almost assumes it will fall, but it doesn't and she sits, cradling herself in her arms, eyes squeezed shut.
It feels like the world is spinning when she finally opens them again, but when they do, the old picture book comes into focus first.
She picks it up with shaking hands.
Cinderella is written in English script, faded gold that still seems to shimmer when she lifts the cover. The picture book is well-loved, some pages dog-eared, some colors and words starting to fade with time.
Yukako falls into a fairy tale till the blood pounding in her ears finally stops, and only looks up when the silence surrounds her, when she becomes too aware of the way her back is hunched over the book.
There's a full-page spread halfway through, of the fairy godmother, hands outstretched with the glass slippers. It could be a trick of the light, but they almost seem to shine.
Eventually, she closes the book, lets it rest back again on the table.
With trembling legs, she stands, and takes another look around the room, and begins again-
-to undo the mess she made.
Aya Tsuji, 1969-1999, is buried at her family plot. There are mums in a tiny vase laid out for her, and someone thought to tuck a wedding invitation behind it. She left behind no husband, no children, no siblings. Her parents' remains rest beside their daughter.
Yukako brings incense and a plastic bag tucked under one arm, and bends down to stare at the cool stone for a long moment. She hadn't thought to check the weather, and halfway through making her trip outside town the clouds had rolled in. Thunder threatens her time but Yukako pays it no mind.
Next to the mums, still radiant without the sunlight, she sets the tube of lipstick down, and carefully as she can unwraps her other offering from the bag to set it just so.
Cinderella does not stand too well on its own, so she leans it, encased in its own plastic wrap so no harm befalls it.
She does not notice footsteps until a shadow falls over her again, and when she looks up, there's a green umbrella blotting out the clouds, and Koichi.
"I think she'd like that," he starts softly. He has his own sticks of incense, and instead of saying anything, Yukako carefully offers her hand out to take them, and light them with her own.
They stay like this for a while, only sounds between them the wind and distant thunder until at Koichi's own insistence they leave for the day.
Their hands brush against one another, casually, and Yukako's heart nearly leaps from her chest, words coming out before she can think: "Koichi- Koichi, I'm sorry."
He startles, and looks up at her with an expression she wants to say so desperately she could read, but he's grown miles ahead of her and she is only now learning how far she has to go to catch up.
"Yukako-"
"I never… I never did apologize. For anything. For saving- saving me twice."
"You… didn't, but,ahh, it-"
"You are worth looking up to. Josuke and Okuyasu should feel honored to call you a friend-"
"-Aww, geez, Yukako-"
"-Even just having the chance to apologize like this… it makes me happy-"
"Yukako!"
"Yukako."
They pause in the middle of the road, and look at one another. Koichi has something on the tip of his tongue, looks as though there's a lot he wants to say but with no sure idea where to start. So she holds hers, and waits, and perhaps holds her breath for longer than she should, afraid to shatter the moment.
"In… in your own way, you're our friend, too, you know. And even if I don't… understand you yet, I'm glad we're on the same side."
Her cheeks feel as though they're on fire, lips trembling, and while her mouth hangs open for the longest time, afterwards, Yukako can do nothing but smile.
"Koichi… can we… start from the beginning? On Monday… if you're not busy-if you'd do me the honor…!- I'd like… to go out with you after school."
His smile is radiant, and so, so warm. "I'd like that, Yukako."
His hand envelops hers, and the world feels right again.
because aya tsuji is an interesting side character, cinderella is a very interesting fairy tale to mess with, and yukako and koichi deserved one more arc to bring their story full circle. hopefully that last one was somewhat accomplished.
.com.