decompking-blog

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        for a moment, the world stills.

        if joshua were to leave, there wouldn’t be reason nor ability on neku’s part to stop him. he’s too far from the door and too connected to his belongings and table to leave without forewarning - and, well, it’d be his choice on leaving or not, anyways. even knowing that it’s all too likely again to happen, there’s only hope in his heart that it doesn’t, that his weight shifts back from the door to the interior of the tavern before it’s all too late again.

        ( please, please don’t go, he hears himself think, and it’s as if the other somehow hears. )

        for a moment, the other’s response stuns him, creating a sudden absence of all words to say. it doesn’t last long, after all - gods know he could never stay in wonder forever before something happened - and he quickly shakes himself out of it, turning in his chair to face the other before gesturing to an empty seat nearby. “ I, uh - you should probably sit down. ”

        he waits to see if the other will actually take him up on that ( he’s hoping so, anyways, considering that’s all part of visiting a tavern, ) and looks briefly over the other from his seat. he’s silent again at first, but he should… probably say something else besides that if he wants to actually get to any point he’s wanted to make, so… “ …So, why are you up so late? Couldn’t get any sleep? ”

  Ah.

  An invitation to sit down with him is entirely from left field and his expression shows it. Mouth somewhat agape, eyebrows furrowing, and general air of disbelief before he clears his throat and nods. Joshua slowly makes his way over, settling into the chair pointed out and placing the mug in his lap. Hands fold on top of the table and he refrains from looking towards Neku for a minute.

  ( Joshua's uneasy for once. The lack of communication and everything else surging forth at once leaves him without words. He's lucky the other speaks first. )

  “ Bingo. I thought I'd be able to get a warm drink so I could fall asleep easier, ” Joshua answers, tapping his fingers on the table top. He spares Neku a glance, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “ What's your story? Can't sleep or have you been caught up in your art longer than you meant to be? ”

[decompking-blog]

Neku:

how long the time has passed since we’ve met, @decompking.

        the sky glitters through the window, a world of night whistling with blizzard wind. it’s a bit unfortunate, job considered: there’s a certain necessity neku bears in going out in person to sketch what he needs to sketch, and it’s certainly not feasible in this weather.

        then again, the idea of sketching outdoors at three a.m. is nothing short of unrealistic, but here he is, thinking of just that.

        he taps his pencil in rhythm to an unknown count, drumming on a sheet of paper bought months before. at its side is a glass half-full, lilium bubbles still resting snug at the cup’s base. what to do now with a case of unfinished work and the inability to sleep, what then…

        neku sifts through the limited possibilities, covering each branch and path. he could draw something, anything; talk if he ever regains that strength so late into the night; or if all else fails, merely retire to try to sleep again. there’s nothing quite advantageous to any of these, except for perhaps the last one, but that seems like a task for later, long after he’s finished what he has to here.

        and so it seems another small sip from his glass ends with indecision. the door opens as he sets it down, and he turns, curious just who else is awake so late, and then —

        his head lifts, and all too suddenly, the silence in his head drowns out all other chords in the tavern. the eye contact he’d expected briefly, but it lasts for longer, and with…

        “ …Josh? ”

        ( funny that after so long, this would be how they met again, huh? )

  It was a fool's thought to believe he would fall asleep so easily after all the recent revelations. If not for the impossibility behind the action, Joshua is almost certain he would have burned holes through the wood by now. Restless as he is, wandering outside during a blizzard isn't the most ideal solution... 

  Yet, here he is. The Whistles he heard of have long since retreated from the village and have been spotted outside, so there's not much danger past freezing to death. Aside from that, his phone ought to provide all the protection he needs if adrenaline kicks in and he sprints away from whatever may try and menace him tonight. 

  Joshua finds himself outside his bunkhouse after a brief stint of thinking, earmuffs snug around his ears and the mug he received held close to his chest. Getting hot chocolate at this hour isn't smart either, but it isn't like he's full of the brightest ideas recently in the first place, so what's the harm? 

  Entering the Crystal, he swipes the headgear off and around his neck, shaking his head to clear any snow sticking to it. Joshua blinks at the surroundings, sinking into a bit of warmer before immediately tensing up at the sound of his own name. He looks towards Neku, mouth dry and one foot slowly shifting back for a moment as if to run before pausing. 

  A moment to steel his resolve and he relaxes.

  " ... Neku, " he breathes, hoping his relief isn't too obvious.

[decompking-blog]

trial completion form ;

muse name: joshua kiryu

trial number: one

trial task: 

You have progressed.

In this world of white, the snow remembers your footsteps. Is this what you want? Is this where your wish will take you, further and further? You must remember yourself as you continue forward.

The Fields of Theama call for you. In their crystal city of ice, the reflections of things familiar and unfamiliar will rise to greet you like an old friend. Venture inwards and listen to your soul. You must brave the maze and return with something from your own world. Reach into the looking glass, abandoning riches and temptations. What you pull out will be your own, and only your own.

Travel well, search well, believe well.

May Diaidem bless you.

link to trial thread / drabble: here! word count is 1820

requested item: a bag of the house blend from wildkat

requested power: freeze frame

which would you like to imbue with more strength?: power

In this land of ice and snow and sorrow, you have prevailed.

It is one step. Take care to remember that the path you take has an ending beyond your vision.

Pray before the statue of Her Lady within Her holy abode and reminisce about what you desire. The glass shines.

A breeze washes over you, sending a certain chill to your pocket. You take out its contents, looking over the orange flip phone with a curious look. Flipping open the screen, you see that the device is on; one app in particular standing out amongst the rest. Freeze Frame has been returned to you, but now, you see that it’s abilities have grown stronger: it can now paralyze people for a full minute, and leaves them lagging in movement for three minutes after… Then, a photo shows on the mobile device: a generously filled bag of the blend you so missed from WildKat sitting on your bed… If this is a sign, then it must mean that it’s back at home. Maybe it’s time to relax, just for a moment.

May Diaidem bless you.

[decompking-blog]

Hmm...‌:

@decompking.

    ❝ my keyblade… looks like sora’s? ❞ the comment this passerby makes somehow amuses her, yet also confuses her. there’s a sense of familiarity from him that seems misplaced, but perhaps it was simply due to his connection with sora. it always seemed to be the case, after all. the brunet seemed to have a plethora of connections that baffled her ( but it was nice to know so many people kept him in their heart just as he kept them in his ).

    “well… it’s not as though i took it from him,” she assures, sounding and looking awkward. “it’s… mine.” sort of. if she were borrowing it from sora, but was still able to have it despite him also having it, doesn’t that make it hers? just thinking about it made her head ache, just a tad. 

    after a pause, she shakes her head, sighing. “it’s a little… complicated, i guess.” absolutely complicated. 

  “ That’s exactly what I said, yes. ” Joshua isn’t exactly the most knowledgeable about these Keyblades or whatever objects have high-importance in other worlds (vacation time is scarce, especially now), but at least his memory can remind him of small details. He never got to meet this girl while in Traverse Town, though Sora certainly seemed the type to make connections with ease. A friendly attitude and face can go quite a ways, after all.

  The way Xion defends her identical Keyblade is humorous, especially since it’s likely she’s being as honest as possible. Joshua’s hand only half covers her mouth, shifting it enough to make it only look like he’s contemplative instead of ready to laugh.

  “ If you had stolen it from Sora, I doubt he’d notice in a decent time. He doesn’t seem to be the most observant person from the talks I’ve had with him, ” he muses.

[decompking-blog]

You have progressed.

In this world of white, the snow remembers your footsteps. Is this what you want? Is this where your wish will take you, further and further? You must remember yourself as you continue forward.

The Fields of Theama call for you. In their crystal city of ice, the reflections of things familiar and unfamiliar will rise to greet you like an old friend. Venture inwards and listen to your soul. You must brave the maze and return with something from your own world. Reach into the looking glass, abandoning riches and temptations. What you pull out will be your own, and only your own.

Travel well, search well, believe well.

May Diaidem bless you.

  It’s strange to ever think of himself as lost.

  Shibuya is etched into his veins and filters through his blood, images branded on the backs of his eyelids. He sees the city constantly in his sleep, feels the music thrum in his bones no matter the distance and hums the notes that he’s oh-so-used to despite how no one cares to listen in the Great White.

  Joshua lets out a low whistle through pursed lips, watching his breath drift skywards before he wanders further into the Fields of Theama. Earmuffs are firmly against his ears, blocking out the world’s sounds for the most part. Hands move between the pockets of his coat, to his jeans, to simply folding into fists as he wanders deeper into the maze.

  … Maybe he could stay here. The cold could easily kill him (another stark reminder that he isn’t who he was anymore, the overall lack of power lighting his nerves on fire and calming them at once), but what did that matter, really? The bullets in his back are gone, certainly, but Joshua knows he died; there was no almost to it. If coming back is as easy as that and no one was informed, it would be fine should he refuse to return to the Bunkhouse.

  …

  … … …

  No.

  He knows he can’t just do that. While not certain, deities don’t tend to take kindly to the people under their watch pulling stunts like that. Perhaps he’d be whisked away when he was drifting off and wake up in his bed, covered in blankets and surrounded in warmth. A slap on the wrist, really.

  Joshua rubs at his temples, finally banishing the thoughts continually pressing like pins into his brain. He has a job here; allowing his focus to drift so much is only going to cause problems. Not that he wants much to look forward, not when a familiar figure that sets his blood on boil appears within a section of ice.

  The stage is set in Wildkat, pristine walls and the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods filling his nose. While it’d normally calm his nerves, what with the familiar bell at the door ringing as he pushes it open and him taking his spot at the bar, he only feels his stomach drop now at the imagery that is provided.

  Familiar stubble, glasses, somewhat messy collar and straightened vest. The image of Hanekoma burns his skin and makes him itch, nails digging into the sweater he wears as he averts his eyes. Facing the man that assisted him for so long only to betray him in the final hours of their city’s life… he isn’t sure he can do it currently. Joshua doesn’t hate the elder for the reasons he took action, but the lasting effects of a lack of honesty leave particularly deep wounds in his core.

  Not that he has much of a right to judge anyone on the merits of being truthful with those you care for. With all of the dishonesty clawing at his heels, how a city near-decimated lingers as a cacophony to ring his ears despite how it remains stable and thriving despite his previous ambitions--

  Joshua inhales deeply, shuts his eyes, and maneuvers past the visions of the barista until he feels it is safe enough to reopen them. The images fall behind him and a weight slides from his shoulders and down his back, attaching at the ankles like a ball and chain as he drags his feet forward.

  ( For a moment, in a sparing glance, Joshua spies blinding white reflecting from his mirror image’s back as he passes one spire. )

  Arms wrap loosely around him, shivering once and hunching over. The cold is one of the top offenders for why is mood is so foul even now. Latching onto a month-long issue and letting it eat away at his thoughts? Ridiculous, he’s better than that, he has to be.

  ( Except he isn’t, he never has been, and the visceral reaction from the next view only proves it. )

  Red headphones, long black hair, sunglasses to shade eyes that shine with love for Shibuya and the inhabitants within. It’s strange to remember he was driven to the point of brainwashing the individuality of the city and bleeding it out on the streets, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  One week of preparation couldn’t possibly be enough for an elaborate plan that would sway his decision. Still, for his attempt… Joshua was touched by the effort and passion. The final exchange with his ex-Conductor holds a weight in his heart a long stare leveled towards the ice.

  An excellent game. He hadn’t had that much enjoyment out of his job in some time, so to witness the reason for it vanish for a bet that he ultimately won…

  Hindsight is 20/20, after all. Joshua clicks his tongue softly when his attention returns to the reflection of Megumi, his surroundings taking the appearance of Dead God’s Pad. He leans into the spike of ice that shows the couch, shuddering when the cold seeps into his body yet refusing to move. There’s comfort in the idea of home, watching the fish under his feet swim about and go through their daily business.

  It was like Shibuya, yet calmer. More mundane. The world he journeyed to in the countdown towards the end of his own strikes as a reminder and, for a moment, Joshua considers the idea of how erratic and frenzied the fish in the alternate version of the bar would be if the comparison worked in such close favor.

  ( Not that it would, honestly; there are far too many parallel dimensions for a flawless match-up in terms of aquatic personalities like that. )

  Rising from his spot against the couch, Joshua brushes his hand against the mirror where Megumi’s afterimage lingers and moves past it. His steps are no more energized from the vague rest he’s gotten from the warmth of the scenery he leaves behind. Exhaustion can only bring him so far and, as the end feels like it’s in sight after a grueling journey, it only rips past his grasp with the same lack of mercy as the bullets formerly embedded in his back.

  It feels as if a wall has risen up before him, surrounding all sides and flashing bright orange across his vision. The area around him is blinding in more ways than one, chest tightening as Joshua opens his mouth only to slowly close it seconds later. He sinks a bit, dropping into a crouch and crossing his arms on his knees before resting his cheek against them.

  Eyes drift up to the memories playing out within the ice, mouth a thin line no matter what words he can remember coming out of Neku’s mouth on each pillar.

  ( Joshua witnesses the forming of the pact with Shiki, the beginning, middle, and ends of his week with Neku, and those final moments where they face-off for the fate of a city.

  He rewatches where he fires the bullet first on two occasions and feels nothing for it. )

  Neku Sakuraba was the worst Shibuya had to offer all those weeks ago. The one he sought out in particular for his negative energy, his champion against someone who wanted to show the brighter side of a city that he felt deteriorating at an alarming rate. Joshua hates the idea of admitting he’s lost or that he was wrong; people change and he knows it, he’s witnessed it several times over, after all.

  Joshua didn’t expect Neku to follow that mold and simultaneously break out of it.

  It’s strange to watch him from below for once. The time spent above and unable to reach out lest he be burnt and punished further certainly gives him a reality check for the moment. Joshua shuts his eyes, nearly hearing a conversation replay in his mind.

  The answer to why Neku was fighting so hard should have tipped him off to the shift. Fighting for another person’s life after knowing of his attitude towards others? Joshua’s fingers tap against his leg and he breathes.

  An apology. Maybe he feels nothing for what he’s done during the Game, but for the progress Neku made during this time and daring to say he doesn’t hate him while actively seeking him out in spite of his own attitude and actions…

  He owes it to the other for his own outburst.

  A breath out and he climbs to his feet, making eye contact with the Neku at the end their partnership. The fall back, the explosion that could have easily taken him out had he not disappeared in the last possible moment--

  Joshua shuts his eyes briefly and lets out a sigh, rising to his feet and approaching one of the images.

  One hand reaches out, fingers splayed before shifting to cup Neku’s cheek before his arm slips right through the ice. Joshua pulls back with a jolt, the sudden weight of something in his grip and the chill through him enough to drop the item and step back.

  Peering down at the snow, a half-choked breath cuts past his teeth as he bends and scoops up the item. A light grey coffee mug with bars of music wrapped around the entirety of the base. The familiarity jumps out instantly and squeezes his heart, Joshua’s expression contorting to a mix of frustration and weariness.

  Hanekoma bought this for him. A cup from years ago, before he ever set foot in the Underground and was only that lonely child that found warmth in the empty coffee shop with a man that helped him move forward.

  Fingers curl around it and he holds it close to his chest, inhaling deeply and letting the cold sting his cheeks before he begins to walk. One gloved hands brushes against all the ice spires to his right while he runs, taking a long breath out when the Great White expands out from his position.

  Freedom.

  Joshua kicks at the snow at his feet before nodding, gathering his thoughts together and beginning his trek back towards the village.

  ( First: put the mug on his bed back at the Bunkhouse. He can’t smash it yet. He doesn’t think he wants to.

  Second: find Neku. Should the other want to speak with him… he’ll be amazed. If the chance is provided, Joshua only hopes he doesn’t feel that urge to get out of the talk before it happens that has sprung up every time he’s considered it this past month.

  Third: kick Minamimoto’s ass. He couldn’t even enjoy the man’s punishment, so he might as well make an attempt at entertaining himself since the former Game Master likely has nothing to waste him with anymore.

  Fourth: … who knows, really. Joshua will play all of this by ear, as he generally has.

  It’s what does, and will continue to, make life interesting, after all. )

[decompking-blog]

???‌:

Zidane can’t say that he’s braided flowers together many times before, and the few times he had they were certainly a lot more sturdy than the dainty snowdrops in his hands now. As it was, he was silently thanking Ruby for her patience with him before ( deft hands were a requirement for Troupe members, but hers were the ones that that patched their clothes with utmost care ); her reprimands echoing in his mind were the only thing that kept thin stems from snapping between his fingers.

There were a few others around weaving their own flowers, and his gaze wanders away from the “wreath” he was making to those others. Cerulean eyes skip over the ones that were forming all too quickly into bracelets and even necklaces—obviously the long-time villagers would have enough practice with this to be on their second or even third decoration by now. Instead his eyes land on a boy not far from him who’s working at a much slower pace, closer to Zidane’s own, who seemed rather absorbed in his work.

So of course, leaving him alone is out of the question.

❛ It’s not as easy as it looks, huh? ❜ Zidane says, and he scoots and slides to close the distance between he and his new companion. ❛ I’m sure they’ll make nice decorations when they’re done, but I’m almost too afraid of them breaking to finish this up. ❜

@decompking​

  The natural world isn’t his forte. It hasn’t been for some time, hands always dabbling with the concrete and only interacting with plant life whenever he runs his fingers along the leaves when existing some building that has them. Still, like the threads of fate or with anything he must do back home, Joshua takes the time to put extra care into making sure things run smoothly.

  He hums up until a stranger approaches, abruptly cutting off the note and stopping his hands to look towards Zidane. Joshua listens to him, canting his head to show he’s at least somewhat attentive while still weaving the stems as delicately as he can. A light chuckle, knotting two of the flowers together and setting the pair down.

  This guy looks talkative enough, a trait Joshua can’t find himself being too appreciative of, but at least it’s some nice background noise as he continues to thread the flowers together. Hopefully he isn’t expecting lengthy conversation because, if that’s the case, he will be sorely disappointed.

  “ They say you can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs, so running the risk of breaking a snowdrop is well worth the reward, ” Joshua answers, moving to link the two previously tied flowers to make a quartet of them. “ It isn’t like the supply is too limited; I doubt the villagers expect newcomers to be profoundly skilled to the point of not wasting a few flowers. ”

[decompking-blog]

???‌:

          the smug type, hm? ozpin watches carefully, taking note to not be too obvious about it. the dawnlight is barely peeking over the horizon, staining the sky in purples and pinks and blues. this person… lives in his bunkhouse, doesn’t he? a rather recent addition– he doesn’t talk to many outside of primrose, but introductions are never a bad thing. “ how unfortunate. hopefully the next time you rest won’t be filled with as much turmoil. “ he needs to keep a catalog anyway. “ though, i have to admit, the sunrise is striking to see, if you’re ever up at the right time to witness it. “ slipping one of his hands into his pocket, the grin on his face grows. 

          “ … i have been here for some time, yes. “ the wizard confirms, already gesturing towards the direction of the tavern. he waits for joshua to start before falling in step with the boy. “ not nearly as much as some of the people here, however. but i will answer any of your questions to the best of my ability. “

  “ I hope so too, ” he breathes, shoulders sagging with a sigh. It’s overdramatic, certainly, but Joshua is far from used to these conditions. His room back in Shibuya flashes through his head, far more casual than one of his position would imagine to live in, but the view makes up for it. “ The sunrise, hm? I can’t catch it back home with most of the buildings in the way, but I have caught a nice sunset every now and then should I have the time and ability to reach the highest point available. ”

  A hum, Joshua contemplating the questions to ask first. There’s a million and one he could come up with, but the one that will make everything easier in the future is… “ My first question is your name, then. I’m Joshua and I’m not really up for the idea of thinking of you as ‘one of my bunkmates’ for the entirety of our stay. ”

[decompking-blog]

9S‌:

He glances reluctantly to one side, wondering how much he even ought to tell of Primrose. She was a friendly woman, but he could tell she held herself back – and it isn’t his secret to tell. “She seems to be doing quite fine. Better than many of the people who end up here.” And that’s all he says – reluctantly watching as the boy approaches, some part of him flickering at the introduction.

Joshua. A nickname. A name one chooses for one’s self. He stares down at the boy’s hand, before reluctantly taking it in a quick shake, before turning away. He hadn’t introduced himself with his own nickname for some time now – didn’t care to hear it from anyone’s lips. Didn’t deserve to hear it. It was not his name, after all. He didn’t have one.

Another privilege of humans, another barrier to communicating with them without walls. The more he talked to them, the more arose – the more he couldn’t help but want to pull away. Even though he loved nothing more than humanity. Even though he hated nothing more than humanity. The conflict, as always, somehow keeps him in place. “Yeah. It isn’t much of a place for making friends, though. People seem to mind their own business. Aside from the people who have been here long enough to be settlers.” It suited him just fine – at least he would tell himself that. “Isn’t it a bit late for a human to be up?” He looked young, as far as 9S could imagine from records… the whereabouts of their bunkmates left unsaid.

  It’s understandable that everyone here is keeps more to themselves; seeing the same faces over and over in such a place would require more alone time, he figured. The cold hasn’t exactly made him more talkative than he already was: the warm weather of Shibuya these past months has really managed to spoil him. “ Good for her, then. Perhaps I will meet her at some point so I can formally introduce myself. ”

  The efficiency behind the handshake draws a little smirk. He stares at the back of 9S’ head for a few moments longer before settling himself down on the middle rungs of his bunk. What an odd person; the quiet type is hardly a regularity at home, though Joshua supposes he can mark that up to the surroundings.

  This person -- or, maybe not quite -- must not have as much noise back home. That, or he’s naturally not one for conversation. There’s an air of caution about 9S and Joshua contemplates for a moment if that’s his own fault: it wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

  “ That’s fine by me, I’ve never been the best at making friends in the first place. I’m not sure a change of scenery can do much to affect that, ” Joshua answers with a small shrug. He takes a moment to register 9S’ last comment, staring blankly at him for several moments before blinking back into reality. Oh, oh! He’s talking about him, okay, great. “ Is it? I’ve always tended to stay up late into the night. Besides… shouldn’t you be getting rest as well? At minimum, we appear to be around the same age, after all. ”

[decompking-blog]

. . .‌

        everything is suddenly ringing.

        everything happens too fast and too unpredictably, too unfortunate than anything he’d tried to see in the fog. the longer he laughs, the longer he derides his foolish naivete, the longer everything falls out of control, neku feels it: the hum spun around the room, growing louder and louder than even the wind and filling him with dread and fright and fear, and all until it caterwauls.

        by instinct, neku breaks eye contact, his head snapping down towards the ground, reeling from the noise. it couldn’t have been a whistle, he swears it wouldn’t have been, not when the noise is so familiar yet everything but; and yet, god, he can’t tell what it is, still whirring around him low and irregular and anything but tolerable. joshua’s words barely register, and shaky thoughts form in response, barely filtered and barely comprehensible. they wait to hear absolutely everything that the other wants to say, and when they have, whether or not neku wants that, they fall right through any defense he had to stop them.

        they fall right through like bullets, unconsidered and uncontemplated to any degree, and god does he slowly regret it.

        “ You just don’t give a damn, do you? ” it’s slow and steady, except it’s not at all when his voice is shaking from laughter or something else - “ What kind of angel, god, whatever are you to even act so high and mighty about that? ”

       a silence falls, but only for a moment, and in one fell swoop, neku looks back up to the other, bitter humor painted on his face. he gives a scoff, everything still buzzing around him, and then –

        “ I don’t even need to consider it. You’re right again, Joshua, I don’t. It’s not like you care whether or not I do, anyways. ”

        and then he turns on his heel and leaves.

        ( was that his wish blooming to fruition? talking, thinking anything could be okay, watching as it all fell apart – hah! what a sick joke.

        as the ringing fades, neku can’t quite tell if the joke is what he’s just done or what he’s just heard. )

  ( You’ve lost everyone again. )

  The door swinging shut signals a bookend. Some point of this relationship that can either come to a complete stop in this position or, should either of them will it, an attempt to venture further can be made. Everything is loud, from the beating of his own heart to the heavy breathing that tumbles out of his mouth to the hiccups that follow.

  Neku’s words take turns piercing at every section of his heart that hasn’t been coated in tar at this point. It bleeds and he chokes once more, a coughing fit leaving him shaky and with his head locked underneath his arms. Joshua can’t tell how the world works much anymore, the endlessly weaving patterns of the music from the citizens nor the sounds that were oh-so-familiar to him for years.

  The disorientation is maddening. The lack of anything he can grasp onto his deafening.

  The silence manages to be a mix of both.

  Joshua considers why he couldn’t have blown up at Minamimoto. Unleashed whatever emotions had finally broken through the bottle they were locked in, lash out on someone who doesn’t matter to him in the long run, why everything had to go so awry around the only one he can bring himself to trust anymore.

  ( So much for eventually being friends, huh? )

  The pedestal crumbles, the throne turns to ash, wings burn underneath the scorching flames of judgement. The Composer falls back onto his pillow, blankets half off and the ceiling spinning above him. Exhaustion weighs his limbs down, breaths soft as he catches his breath, scrambles to pick up the pieces of the bridge that are still on fire in front of him.

  ( You care. It’s far more than you want to admit, but it’s undeniably there. )

  A shaky breath out.

  ( You wish for Neku to feel the same. If he did before, there’s no doubt he doesn’t now. )

  One, two, three, four--

  ( The dirt only piles higher and higher over you. The sun is blocked out. )

  Sleep is a merciful gift, eyes shutting and the world around him spiraling into complete darkness. 

  ( Hey, Neku? How much forgiveness can you hold for the one that’s wronged you so often? )

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        joshua’s silent again.

        in that time, neku can’t even shape any comment of his own. he locks eyes with the other and feels too trapped suddenly, focuses on the contempt that he can’t bring himself to look away from. when he had been snarking at him from above in their first conversation, it hadn’t been like this; in this bunkhouse now, frigid as the air between them, joshua looks down on him, and the force of it is worse than dry wit falling to the ground.

        neku wonders, in that silence, if he’s made a mistake. he realizes too late that he has.

        ‘ Why do you care? ’

        “ Because - ”

        in the short time it takes for his voice to jolt, everything shifts. his throat seizes – the reasons rush away, his voice leaves carelessly, his eyes can only show sudden horror in the next realization and his breath can only turn colder –

        ( he knows. he knows it doesn’t answer it. he knows there’s no getting out of it if he doesn’t answer, and yet - and yet - and yet - )

        “ Because - I– I don’t know – what reason do I have not to? ”

        ( … what a mistake. )

  It’s familiar. The change in Neku’s face, how all of the emotions are wiped clean and replaced with a new horror--

  Udagawa’s mural stands bold in the backdrop of the scene. Minamimoto has fled, smoke still hardly filtering into the air from Joshua’s own gun after the warning shot delivered to his subordinate. It only grows heavier with the second bullet lodging itself in Neku’s heart, sending him backwards and dropping his corpse to the warm, sun-heated asphalt.

  ( Hey Neku, how did you die? )

  Joshua cracks a smile at the lack of a real answer. It’s entirely blank, a canvas to paint any emotion on before a laugh shakes his shoulders and opens his mouth. He doesn’t bother to look away from Neku until his eyes shut, a weak attempt to push back whatever tears form the longer his cackling goes.

  ( His chest aches. )

  “ I knew it--! You don’t have any actual reasons to care about me, Neku! ” There’s a certain degree of control to the way he speaks, though the rapid deterioration is made apparent by the time Joshua speaks the other’s name. “ Why should you?! ”

  He swallows, swiping aggressively at his eyes. Enough tears; you saw this coming from miles away.

  “ What reason could you ever have to care about me outside of our lives being connected during our week together? I can’t imagine one, not at all. Finding me… what a mistake this all turned out to be, huh? ”

  ( Stop talking. Stop talking. Continuing will only ruin everything-- )

  “ Let me tell you this, Neku. Consider why you care, one more time, but with this in mind: the thought of feeling guilt for killing you has never crossed my mind. ”

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        so he talked to him. never mind that it curses his story further. they talked, and somehow it ended in the snow, and somehow the mayor was involved as if it weren’t enough a tirade in between the whistles along the wind. and that was it.

        perhaps it’s right. he’s given enough of an explanation, told him enough without prying into personal affairs, and… simple as that.

        “ It’s not. ”

        ( …what? )

        ( it is, isn’t it? it should be, he trusts him, so why isn’t it — )

        neku looks again at the flaws of joshua’s story, at the sheer list of former and current problems of the outcome of talking to him, and his eyes freeze up but his mouth doesn’t, and it talks too fast and too loud and too callous and suddenly –

        there is only one person who logically could have caused that — and caused, if he’s right, far, far worse.

        “ Joshua. What the hell did he do. ”

  Joshua narrowly reigns in a scowl that attempts to form on his lips. Frustration is clear in the crease of his brows, the ways his eyes bore into Neku and how his knuckles manage to stand out as blanched against already pale skin.

  Neku should believe him. His story was plausible, yet the nerves in his stomach have ruined his ability to convincingly dodge doubts.

  ( It’s so agitating to feel how far he’s fallen in only a few short hours. )

  He stares in silence for several moments while the question lingers between them, a string pulled taunt until it threatens to snap against both of them.

  A weak, wry smile comes onto his face. Joshua puts his elbow on his knee, resting his slightly tilted head against his palm.

  “ Let me answer your question with one of my own. ”

  ( He’s exhausted, plain and simple. )

  “ Why do you care? ”

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        so that’s it, then. nothing. neku can’t even glean one thing out of this, in the brief unfounded event that joshua isn’t the same as before, but suddenly is. before he can even think hard enough on it, a response falls and it flies.

        “ Why can’t you at least talk to me about it. ” he regrets the blunt thought as soon as he says it – as if joshua apparently might ever answer any important question once more with a concrete answer. why does he ask when he knows this has been bound to happen since the start? “ I know that’s not ‘nothing,’ Josh. You haven’t said anything sensible the entire time. ”

        ( god, he trusts him, he wants to trust joshua and he does despite it all, but even though he regrets it, how, how is he supposed to stay here for any time at all when - )

        “ You didn’t go to the square and you went to the Chateau, and you only came here after hours of standing there. You met the Grim Heaper, back from the dead, and didn’t think he was a ghost until anything about them was said, you don’t even know what they look like, and now you’re saying - what, you’re saying something happened to him and not you after all of that even when something did? How am I supposed to believe that? ”

        ( the pin falls back into the corner. something in his heart hopes he can apologize for not trusting the other’s thoughts, just this once. )

  Talk about it.

  If anything in his head or heart would allow words to spill from his lips, maybe they would have by now. Joshua’s hands wringe around the blankets, taking the effort to pull his legs closer to his chest and leaning to put his chin between his knees. His face remains neutral while Neku talks at him, trying to form any sort of response that will block further questioning.

  Neku’s smart. He’s gotten it all figured out and the last piece of the puzzle is held in Joshua’s chest, buried deep. He sighs.

  ( Lying isn’t working. Trust rings in his head once more. Maybe he should-- )

  “ … Fine. The full story is that I went to the Chateau and held a conversation with Minamimoto for some time. I don’t recall how or why, but… I was unconscious in the snow for some time before being found by the Mayor. I can only presume I was brought back here and I missed everything. ”

  ( Trust? What’s that? )

  Joshua levels narrowed eyes towards Neku. An undeniable bitterness infects his words, as if his former partner daring to ask for some honesty is an unforgivable crime against him. It burns in his mouth, but he can’t quite expel it before he speaks again.

  “ Is that a good enough answer for you? ”

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        this silence is unimaginably horrible. this shouldn’t be happening - at this rate, he should’ve been ticked off even once by some shitty comment once and once again, as had happened for all those weeks past. the other has knowledge of far more than him, and foresight clearer than anything neku could ever, and yet –

        well, the joshua kiryu he’s met is loud and awful and arrogant. he knows this like it’s written on the back of his hand. so why isn’t it the case now?

        the whistlers can’t have scared the other this much when he only now knew about them, could they? not that that mattered when he hadn’t even made a remark before neku pointed them out. his reasonings are slow and tedious, until finally they’re interrupted by short phrases in response. he’s almost glad, but… then his own voice is quieter, and yet he’s steeled it as best as he can.

        “ …They couldn’t have done what? ”

        ( his hand slips to a pocket and fumbles with the pin dropped within. it’s nothing that could help, sure, and nothing he’d feel okay to use in any other case, but…

          just this once, he wishes, even though it wouldn’t work, that it would. )

  He could clear this up right now. Speak up, explain that Minamimoto shot him thrice in the back, that the pain still lingering in his torso and the shortness of breath the longer he thinks about it--

  But his pride blocks his airways, chokes him harder than anything else could and he swallows the idea down. Complaining about being shot to the one he’s shot twice over would only make him look more pathetic than he already feels.

  ( What would he expect, anyways? For Neku to sympathize with him? What an awkward conversation that’ll be should he ever be asked to return the favor at another time. )

  Joshua doesn’t want to think about how obviously off his actions are. How one misstep sends the house of cards tumbling into a pile of broken goals, how it’s easy to bring down a wall when it’s made of fragile material in the first place.

  He clears his throat.

  ( Trust your partner. )

  A beat.

  ( Hey, hey, when has telling people how you feel done anything besides hurt? )

  “ … Nothing, Neku. I was talking to myself. ”

  ( It hasn’t. )

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        great. somewhere along the way, joshua just never got the memo. neku isn’t sure how to feel about that lapse, one so out-of-place in his mind during the conversation. “ …Well, now you know about it. Better than nothing. ”

        still… the idea is senseless. how could he not have known when the news was carried around through yells and assuages? he was in the village at the time - it can’t be as simple as losing focus, can it?

        “ As long as we don’t reenact what happened the first time around. ” a groan peeks briefly, though not out of his will; it’s not that neku doesn’t mind staying even for a little, after all, but the village is still at risk, and he can’t just throw that aside.

        at least, he believes that, up until joshua’s words strike a chord. that seems more senseless, and then – then, it seems…

        something’s wrong here, more so than the whistles in the wind.

        “ He’s what?! ” it comes out incredulous at first, sure, but his voice dies down soon after. not that the guy being here at all isn’t anything to worry about, but the implication that – “ Are… you sure that isn’t… actually him? There wasn’t anything mentioned about doing that at all. ” they’re… ghosts, sure, but they can’t have taken on ghosts truly from their past, can they?

  He missed a whole meeting. Embarrassing, but at least he has the information he needs to go about all of this. … Unless one winds up in this bunkhouse and no one with a weapon is around, then he’s likely to… to…

  Joshua stops entertaining that possibility before he screams.

  A hum as he remembers their first real conversation upon arrival, a brief smile popping onto his lips before it fades back to a neutral expression. Joshua wouldn’t mind spending most of the day talking again, keeping whatever the hell is happening out there in the background for the duration of their conversation, but it seems Neku wouldn’t let that happen.

  Oh well.

  Joshua nearly jumps when Neku returns the favor of raising his voice, leaning to stare directly down at him. He opens his mouth to comment before slowly closing it, expression darkening significantly before he shifts to watch the window once more.

  “ … I guess that would make sense, ” he answers. “ If he was only a ghost, they wouldn’t have been able to… ”

  ( Tracking down a ghost for punishment would be difficult, right? God, where is his head at right now? )

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        “ …Weren’t you at the meeting? ” people had been talking about it past every structure in the village neku could see, before and after its occurence - he’s honestly surprised joshua hadn’t even chosen to go, much less heard a thing about it. “ Yeah, that’s the gist of it. There’s people out hunting them and others defending the village. ”

        ( he can’t exactly pinpoint it now: why is joshua so distressed at the idea, worried for something that should be so simple? he’d try to figure it out, but it’s not as if he’d get an answer, anyways. )

        neku’s hand rests on the doorknob, seconds from twisting it open before joshua’s voice rings out again; it’s unusual to hear it so loudly, and his head turns towards the other with a wary gaze. “ …Because I was going to go help out here? It’s different than being alone outside, you know. ”

        “ Fine, okay. ” not that he gets why, but… he blindly trusts the thought for once, hoping maybe he’ll find the answer to that instead. his hand falls from the knob, and he follows a path near the other’s bunk. “ Did you want something besides me just sitting here? I can’t just stay here for the next week.”

  “ No, I… wasn’t, ” Joshua answers, voice falling quieter. How long was he dead? There was no indication of how much time has passed since he was killed, fingers toying with the blankets and snapping one of the loose threads. His eyes are entirely off Neku for the time being, focus shifting between the window and his lap.

  People are out fighting these strange phantoms. Do they change appearance depending on who is facing them? How do these ghosts work? They’re apparently capable of speaking, blending in with the surroundings as a new arrival.

  … How dangerous.

  Joshua realizes after a minute that he stopped listening to Neku partway through the conversation. There’s relief in how his shoulders relax when the other turns around and remains with him, taking a breath and falling back on his pillow. Left hand dangles over the side, the right resting some knuckles against his forehead and looking to the ceiling.

  “ I would prefer you to be here for a couple of hours is all. ”

  He closes his eyes briefly.

  “ … I suppose I saw one of these ghosts while I was at the Chateau. Our old friend Minamimoto has made an appearance, ” Joshua explains, tone shifting to one full of venom. “ Rather unfortunate that it took on his face. I’m sure he wouldn’t be pleased to know that I’m going to take him out again. ”

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        perfect. of course you can place a god in the midst of danger, and he won’t even care. neku can’t understand the irrationality that’s continued from the second week, nor the attunement joshua bears to the chateau, but he doesn’t expect he’d ever know about it anyways.

        never mind the chance he cares for knowing about it anyways. what matters most is the tiny task he’d thrown on himself is over, and that’s all that exactly mattered for a while.

        “ If I took any quest outside I think I’d be dead, ” he snarks. god, shouldn’t he already know what’s outside? if he wanted to play coy, he should’ve done it out on a different day. “ Great to see you were there holding no regard for a ghost trying to kill you, Josh. I’m just gonna go. ”

        he stops leaning next to the doorway and turns back to leave, hesitation too brief and too fleeting to change his path.

  “ … What? ”

  There are several things that bother Joshua about Neku’s report on what’s going on outside. Ghosts? Trying to kill people? Gears slowly turn in his head and, all at once, he’s scrambling to sit up properly. His legs still feel as if cinder blocks are tied to them, Joshua grunting as he manages to shift into a mildly more comfortable position.

  His eyes are a bit wide, hands against the railing of the bunk and gripping it tight. “ There’s… ghosts wandering around outside and they have a taste for blood. Is that what you’re telling me? ”

  Sho Minamimoto was an apparition. That’s the reason he exists here, falsely breathing and driven to shoot him; phantoms are wandering this village and targeting people.

  … Maybe Neku met some version of Game Masters he thrashed. Perhaps Megumi is stalking through the snow, or there are Players that fell in his time as Composer—

  He inhales, bites his lip, and drops his head into his hands.

  “ Why risk going out right now? Stay here for a minute, ” Joshua says, forcing the shakiness from his voice, putting force into his words to compensate.

[decompking-blog]

Neku‌:

        this is wrong.

        when the maws of ghosts whistle a tune louder than the wind and blood tries to trail from fountain stone to snow, neku can’t help but focus on the beat of his heart, drumming as frantic and worrisome as his first thoughts are. he can only picture glaciers as envious as fire and sharp as the crystals spiked abou, just like what’s drawn and written in the books, and when he hears of the dangers dripping from their hands and jaw, he almost hears it halt.

        ( he tries not to think that’s all the reasoning for what comes next. )

        he can’t help but search in the melting snow, as bad as the risks are, hoping how fast he ran when he was dead helps him just the same as he is alive. he loops between bunkhouse and building until he arrives back at the first that he checked, pushing the door open - and seeing a same familiar face just as he does.

        joshua speaks, and neku doesn’t even falter, pushing past a shaking breath.

        “ Oh, you know. The same old search as before. ” a beat passes. “ Where’ve you been? You sure weren’t here earlier. ”

  Oh. He was looking for me again.

  Joshua’s expression shifts involuntarily, eyebrows furrowed and wrists folding across one another as he props himself up on his elbows. Fingers drum the bed and his gaze shifts away from Neku for a moment, trying to find any answer that isn’t the truth.

  He doesn’t know. If anyone saw his body aside from the Mayor, there’s been no word of it that reached the other.

  When he focuses in to the sounds around him again, something stands out. He isn’t sure but he frowns and turns his head to look towards one of the windows. There’s nothing that he can see from here, yet with how Neku has clearly come here more than once since he last saw his bunkhouse--

  “ I… was out near the Chateau. ” Better a half-lie than a full one, right? “ Why, do you require your brilliant partner for something? You haven’t taken on some sort of dangerous quest, have you? ”