#But I at least am working on something for Shiki day too!

[shiny-airplane]

I made a drawing for Day 2 of TCW Week, for the theme "Flower"!(⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

[quietbluejay]

Godblight 1

What in the anime lightning crackling between eyes

OWO perhaps….Eldar spotted???

guilliman: when other people use "the ends justify the means and doing bad things to get good results is based, actually" as an excuse, it's cringe guilliman: when i do it, it's fine

ELDAR SPOTTED!!!!

I mean it was a more tolerant age the same way dying from salmonella poisoning is better than dying from lingchi

well idk maybe Ultramar back in the day was less xenophobic than the empire was in general oh lovely it's a tzeentchian daemon …man i love it when an author goes "hey, actually, consequentialism sucks"

time for us to meet a normal human living on a Nurglite planet ….the main thing that being in the Imperium has over being in Nurgle's dominion is the possibility, however slim it might be, that things will get better for you and in general reading this makes it abundantly clear why Nurgle would be so popular on a hive world if your suffering is guaranteed, then at least you can have guaranteed happiness with it of course "get well soon" is a nurglite curse

oh its time for mortarion to commune through the fungus with typhus this whole conversation is just:

back to nurgle demon shenanigans with ku'gath

he's so delightful for once everyone else is sad but he's not enjoying it also it's time for baby fights two with rotigus and ku'gath this is reminding me of interactions i had with my sister when we were both like 10 or under

amazing incredible 10/10

(on the topic of blorbos where is Voiiiii I want Voi point of view why are the sisters of silence being slept on) psyker dude: it is physically painful being in the same room as guilliman because of his stress and depression

see, the thing about a cult of reason is that you're turning reason into a cult

Donas: Humans don't need gods because all gods are evil and from the warp Natase: #notallgods okay this is interesting and is covering something i've been curious about which is how godhood and faith work and i was right haha! so, some gods are created from faith, some are completely faith-independent, some don't need faith but get power from it nonetheless

from what i saw in the other books it seems like the faith and the emperor's power were originally separate, which is weird well kind of like the power that came from people's faith in the emperor, was independent of the emperor himself and my theory was that it's got to do with humanity being a psychic species and the warp is "your mind makes it real" and then since the faith had a specific focus (the emperor) it became attached to him and became a self-sustaining cycle

someone pick up the phone because I called it

it's entirely possible to become a god against your own will and then get shaped by what people believe you to be natase: the incident with the girl driving back demons might have been actually you all along

guilliman: it's not enough i have to deal with everything else, but this too guilliman: nope. i reject this. guilliman: okay. okay. guilliman: ok so if the Emperor really is a god now, what does this mean for our strategy? pffff typical guilliman also i am proud of him here he's actually using reason! rather than blindly turning "reason" into a dogma and avoiding uncomfortable truths.

and now back to ku'gath once again loving some of the imagery "the hospital walls slumped like corpses" actually thinking on the subject, could Shiki kill a chaos god

tattleslug: look everyone knows you hate everyone tattleslug: it's not a secret at all

actually wait we're back to guilliman again and im cackling he's Done

custodes dude: this is a bad idea guilliman: k guilliman: i will walk you through my reasoning one more time custodes dude: you already- guilliman: since you're making me put up with you constantly bugging me, you will have to put up with hearing me repeatedly explain things guilliman: also my final reason is if i don't get to do violence to something i am going to snap

[minachan95-written-works-on-ao3]

Title: When the Bloody Moon Rises (Chapter 3)

Fandom: Togainu no Chi

Characters: Akira, Emma, Gwen, Keisuke, Shiki

Pairing: Shiki x Akira

Rating: +18 (Alternative Universe, Supernatural Elements, Suggestive themes, smut, Developing Relationship)

Status: In Progress

Summary:

One day, an excellent reputation, vampire hunter Akira is falsely accused of murdering an innocent person. Fortunately, the church offers him to prove his innocence by defeating the evil vampire lord Il Re. And thus, the silver-haired hunter sets on the new journey. Will he be able to do it? Read and find out~

AO3 Link

Finally, after taking a long slumber, the hunter wakes up. It’s been a while since he rested so well. However, he can feel that something is off. When Akira checks on himself, he spots that he is under the blanket.

At first, he gets alerted that someone sneaked inside the room and that he didn’t sense anyone’s presence. Secondly, he is disappointed that he lowered his guard down and how someone took advantage of it.

On the other hand, why would anyone bother to enter this room to cover him with a warm blanket?

Perhaps, Akira got cold, and without realizing it, he wrapped himself under the blanket. Or so, that could be the most logical explanation, which the blue-eyed hunter thinks.

After sitting up in bed, he checks the window. The same crimson moon is still in the dark sky, and it only worsens Akira’s orientation in time.

In any case, details like this shouldn’t matter when you are in the enemy’s lair, where you aren’t supposed to stay longer than needed.

After looking around, the blue-eyed hunter notices there is no sign of Il Re’s pet. Perhaps, he got bored and returned to his master’s side.

But for now, he can search for his weapons without getting caught. And thus, without wasting any time, Akira looks through every little corner of the guest room.

Fortunately, he instantly spots the silver cross necklace lying on the night drawer like it was left on purpose.

However, no matter how hard he looks for his combat knife, his search is for naught. Perhaps, his weapons are somewhere else or thrown away.

One thing that Akira cannot understand is why the vampire returned to him the most lethal weapon that can instantly kill every demon and monster near him. Maybe it’s only a part of Il Re’s twisted game. After all, the evil vampire feels like everyone else is just a mere chess piece that he can move how he wants and when he wants.

Or maybe he’ll wait as much as needed until the hunter uses the cross and gets weakened to finish him.

Speaking of which, as the vampire hunter puts on the silver cross and stares at it, he hears a deep purring.

When he looks down, he notices a certain panther sitting in front of him.

‘‘How did you get here?’’ Akira asks the dark feline, who only looks at him with these interested crimson eyes.

As he sighs, he continues while stroking this fellow’s head ‘‘Why am I even bothering to ask you, you stupid cat? But you come here for not for nothing. Just show me where you want me to go.’’.

After the silver-haired hunter stands up, the black panther gets up. Hell, the big cat even momentarily wrapped his tail around Akira’s thigh and keeps it up in the question-mark shape while he leads him toward the door.

For sure, someone allows himself too much. Yet, no matter how Akira is tempted to scold Shiki for showing such audacity, he holds back. Besides, maybe it’s only another test.

________________________

After a while, Akira arrives at what he assumes is the dining room.

Surely, such a luxurious and spacious room could perfectly serve at least half of the Hunter Guild members. Despite being a noble nocturnal creature, this Il Re person might not differ from any rich man showing off his fortune. Or so, the hunter thinks to himself while trying to suppress his amazement.

More so, the table filled with an assortment of food would be too much, even for several people.

Even if since the beginning of his journey, he had nothing, Akira shakes his head and refuses to get anywhere close to an endless feast. What if the Count wants to poison him? Therefore, he must endure until he’ll defeats his target and return to the guild.

‘‘Are you trying to poison me and bring me to your master? I’m not hungry. But you can eat it.’’ The blue-eyed hunter addresses the black panther.

The large feline keeps pushing him forward until he gives up and plays along with the beast’s rules.

In the end, when the stubborn hunter sits, he speaks up in an annoyed tone ‘‘Fine. I’ll take a few bites if you leave me alone, you stupid cat.’’.

Even behind the amused cat’s gaze, Akira can sense that this fellow is proud and entertained by making him do all these tasks.

Whatever. Food is food, and it’s Il Re’s fault that he feeds his enemy, who will bring his head to the church and hunt again. Maybe training that stupid cat as his companion might also help him fight against powerful monsters. Or so, the hunter wonders while he carefully munches and suspiciously looks down on the feline.

While the red-eyed panther observes him, Akira rolls his eyes and pinches a good amount of meat. When he brings it close to Shiki, he sniffs the food. After the big cat turns his head away, the hunter comments ‘‘Then, why did you ask this for if you are not eating it? Or maybe it’s not suitable for your royal taste. Who knows. But you eat everything once I’ll train you. So, get used to it.’’. Although, the panther only indignantly puffs.

For sure, the large feline’s big tantrum makes Akira snort ‘‘You stupid cat…’’.

________________

Some time passes. As soon as the hunter finishes his meal, Shiki insists on showing him around the castle. That’s how the more time he spends with Il Re’s loyal pet, the more Akira doesn’t understand him or the reason for such behavior.

If Shiki wanted to kill him, he could have done that during their first encounter, when Akira was the most vulnerable. Besides, the black beast is an agile predator who moves more silently than the night.

So, even if the hunter may have his combat knife, he would still face a challenging opponent who protects his territory.

However, for some unknown reason, Akira appears to be in favor of the deadly feline. Perhaps Shiki is an oversized cat who walks where and when he wants, and no one would tell him how to behave. Despite that, for now, having a temporal ally is better than nothing, and he cannot be picky in this situation.

Meanwhile, the red-eyed panther shows him the floating garden. Not only the hunter is greeted by the elegant dance of the rose petals in the night sky, However, also staying outside feels so refreshing. Who knew that feeling the mild wind is so pleasant and liberating too?

More so, it’s like a breath of fresh air after seeing nothing but the gloomy stone walls. That’s why whoever works on keeping this slice of nature’s paradise does a good job.

Yet, as the large feline guides him, the blue-eyed hunter keeps reminding himself that he is not here to enjoy himself but only to play along with whatever Shiki comes up with.

After arriving at the garden’s edge, Akira leans on the marble parapet and observes the scenery in front of him. Seeing the vasts of Forest of Eternal Night from above makes him understand how everything looks so petite. Even if he got killed by the ferocious dog, no one would spot a tiny dot like him in such a large space.

Perhaps, the Count spends his time here wondering whether anyone will reach him through the endless forest filled with the clawed and fangs armored creatures. However, does seeing the same scenery enlighten by the crimson moon again and again and impatiently waiting for a cunning thief to arrive doesn’t bore him?

Suddenly, the vampire hunter kills the silence by commenting ‘‘Did you bring me here to show how big your owner’s kingdom is? It might be impressive. But having all this for a single person might be too much and unnecessary, don’t you think?’’.

Instead of answering this human, Shiki loudly exhales through his nose, and his long tail hits the ground.

After looking down at the panther, Akira asks him in a slightly irritated tone ‘‘What is it? Don’t expect me to praise your master. I’m not here to become his new servant or please him. I’m here to take him down. So, if he dislikes something, it’s his problem, not mine, got it?’’.

Lastly, Shiki turns around with his lifted head while expecting Akira to follow him.

__________________________

In the end, after walking together in the castle, the red-eyed panther shows the hunter the last place he wanted him to see.

Unfortunately for Akira, it’s not the master room. Although, on their way, when he noticed the giant gate in the hallway and tried to approach it, Shiki pushed him away. Perhaps, behind that door, his master is impatiently waiting for the new challenger. In any case, the hunter kept an eye on it and the path how to find it.

But for now, he cannot understand why exactly he is brought to the enormous library and guided in this endless labyrinth of tall bookshelves.

Even from quickly scanning his surroundings, he could tell that the dark lord’s library is filled with ancient textbooks about alchemy and sorcery, a lot of various encyclopedias and bestiary, to various fiction in any human tongue and from the demon realm. Yet, the hunter doesn’t expect to see the vampire owning the thick volumes about science and medicine as well.

Meanwhile, the black panther turns back time from time to see whether his human isn’t lost. After all, a mere wanderer can easily lose their way and stuck in this endless maze. Yet, seeing how the hunter doesn’t hide his curiosity and carefully studies his surroundings interests the beast.

Good. Perhaps, that will help this foolish human to remember the path when he needs to leave. If he lives long enough. Or so, the large feline decides.

After a while, this couple reaches the end of this maze. As Akira should have expected, there is an area that he assumes is used as the study room.

The hunter can even imagine that when the Count is bored, he sits in front of the wide desk in that comfortable armchair while his loyal pet lies next to him.

When that bastard is tired of this world, he can indulge himself in diving into the one from his library. Perhaps, this is what you need in your life - peacefully enjoying the warmth of the fireplace in the dark evening and your solitude. If he wasn’t his target and a blood-thirsty killer, he might have something in common with this Il Re type. Or so, Akira wonders.

However, something else catches his eye again. There is one tall bookshelf that is leaning against the wall. As he gets close to it, he notices through the book gaps that there is a room behind it.

Unfortunately, when he is about to lean and see what it could be, Shiki bites into his wrist while growling at him. A second later, he lets out a small gasp.

Even if his fangs don’t penetrate his skin, Akira can feel a sharp pain as the feline pulls his hand. From Shiki’s glowing red eyes and lowered ears alone, he can tell that this big cat does not want him to go anywhere close to that specific bookshelf.

The hunter knows he has to remain calm no matter what kind of monster faces him. That’s why he addresses Shiki without removing his eyes from him ‘‘Let me go. You gonna tear my arm.’’.

Surprisingly, the dark beast listens to him and loosens his jaw around the hunter’s hand. Yet, his lowered tail rapidly hits the ground.

‘‘I won’t go anywhere close to that place if that makes you happy. So, don’t stare at me like that.’’ Akira assures the panther. Lastly, he doubts for a second before ruffling Shiki’s silky fur.

Although, the hunter keeps a note that when he defeats the evil vampire, he will check what is hidden behind the forbidden shelf. But for now, the hunter uses his chance to look for something to distract himself and make himself comfortable in the armchair.

____________________

After a while, the panther leads Akira back to the guest room. Of course, the hunter would be fine resting in the library if it wasn’t for the black feline pulling his clothes and prompting him to get up. And thus, he had to leave this place.

When he crashes into bed, he only stares at Shiki, who sits next to him. Meanwhile, the panther’s eyes follow the swinging cross on the hunter’s chest. Eventually, the large feline cannot resist anymore, and he lifts his paw.

As Akira observes how this oversized kitten plays with the cross, he remarks on this behavior ‘‘If you knew what this thing can do, you wouldn’t act so recklessly.’’.

Yet, Shiki doesn’t pay attention to these words and continues his play. Besides, the hunter doesn’t mind what the feline does anymore.

__________________________

Several hours have passed. Once the silver-haired young man senses the slowly rising level of the dark energy, his sleepiness instantly disappears.

However, when he turns to the other side, he only notices that while Shiki yawns, he stretches out and lifts his tail into the air.

‘So, it’s a false alert, huh?’ Or so, Akira thinks to himself as he almost closes his eyes. For now, he pretended to be peacefully slumbering and see how the feline will act.

It appears that the panther falls for his acting. Suddenly, the feline becomes a dark, liquid shadow and loses its shape.

However, the hunter understands that no matter what happens; he has to wait patiently and control his emotions. Otherwise, who knows what Shiki may do to him?

In the meantime, the shadows transform into the silhouette of the tall man. Soon enough, as the dark shadow melts, it reveals the panther’s true form. It is a beautiful man with pale as porcelain doll skin and ebony hair. Although, the most outstanding detail for the hunter is those mesmerizing crimson eyes.

Yet, the dark shadow instantly covers his body and forms his luxurious clothes. Even this noble person has the feline’s katana is attached to his belt.

Suddenly, Akira speaks up his name in silent disbelief ‘‘Shiki…’’. However, as soon the nocturnal creature’s gaze turns toward the hunter, the blue-eyed young man tries to reach out for him ‘‘Wait! Is it you?’’.

Unfortunately, there is no answer, just a silent staring at each other. Lastly, when Shiki turns around and as his coat rustles, he leaves the room. For now, the hunter remains alone with countless new questions.

_________________

Some time passed. When Akira finally gets up, he notices someone has placed his long coat on him. More so, the hunter spots his combat knife and the bag of throwing knives lying on the night desk.

After putting his coat on and attaching his weapons, he looks and calls one panther. However, no one responds to his words. When he leaves the room, not even a single spirit neither greets him nor attacks him.

Perhaps, Shiki has also returned to the master room to be by Il Re’s side. Even if that is the case, Akira will still need to fight against the evil Count. Fortunately, the panther showed him the way to the master room. That’s why he shouldn’t waste any time looking for it.

Upon arriving at the needed gate, the hunter pushes them to open them. After the gate is wide open, he is greeted by the gust of the wind and the snowy weather. As the snowflakes gracefully fall from the clear sky on the stone staircase, he grasps the cross around his neck.

Step after step, the silver-haired hunter is getting closer to his enemy while the light red moonlight shines on him. Lastly, when Akira stands in front of the large gate of the master room, he takes a deep breath before opening it.

-------------------------------

Chapter 1 Link

Chapter 2 Link

Chapter 4 Link

[sakuralikestars]

𝕮𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖟𝖊

CHAPTER 1

Nanami x Reader

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: Romance, smut , past lovers , alternate universe , blood, violence, murder, gore, major character death , vampire au .

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 : Heavily inspired by Shiki (Story by Fuyumi Ono)

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

It’s the 12th. The 12th one in four weeks.

ㅤ

Your hands fold over the wrist of the woman laid on the bare bed, fingers trying to desperately prod into the vein beneath the clammy skin. It remains cold underneath your own touch. You tell yourself it’s worth a try, as you search for a pulse. 

Frustration makes your head throb when the telltale thump doesn’t meet your touch.

“Time of death 10:38 am “.

ㅤ

The words resonate in the room, tasting too mundane for your preference . Utahime sighs audibly behind you and when her digits scribble down the details, your own clench in helplessness. 

She had been merely 24 years old, a bubbly baker you had seen over the weekends when you had been craving sticky cakes. Fresh out of college, her infectious charm had rubbed off on you enough to bask in her company often. When you look down at her now, you cannot help but let weariness percolate into your body. The light from the window clings to her passive face, the blue in her lips and the hollow of her collar. Her cheeks bones jut out harrowingly and you feel your stomach turn as your gaze lands on her widened eyes, pupils petrified. 

Disappointment crawls and prickles over your skin. She reached to you yesterday asking for help, eyes out of focus and limbs wasting. Everything had been for naught. A nagging voice in your skull keeps reminding you of how her condition deteriorated over one night, something medically improbable. Yet it did. Just like the others.

ㅤ

Your gut twists with fury at your incompetence and compells you to abruptly extract yourself from your seat. 

“Doctor- “Utahime calls out, but you wave her away. The walls are closing in and you have to get out. You need to be alone right now.

ㅤ

The patio was built by your great grandfather, a gift for his wife, for she had felt lonely in the big house all by herself. It appears ironic to use it for the opposite as you trace your palms along the wood, with no one but yourself. You settle on the bench, lips closed around a lit cigarette. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Each breath tastes like ash. Like death, you muse, savoring the burn that coated your tongue. 

Whenever you find yourself lost, the first thing they taught you was to retrace your footsteps. The smallest of factors sometimes hold the key to the problem .

ㅤ

Anaemia. That’s what the symptoms start as. The victims’ health spirals down until the juice left in their bodies is not sufficient to sustain life. Conferring to the blood works, it’s normocytic normochromic anaemia. Typically, it progresses from anaemia to multiple organ failure and takes about three to four days. 

Though, you remind yourself, none of the patients has any underlying causes to lead to this. The conditions are too suspicious and with each day passing; you have grown bitter. You should have been able to reach to the root of this by now. The only possibility left for a person’s body to react this way was an infectious disease. A possibility bleak in a town like this.

ㅤ

You cannot help but claw at your hair in vexation. 

“Dammit dammit dammit dammit.” The words spill from your mouth unwillingly.

“I assumed you had quit smoking, “. A voice calls out from behind you. You click your tongue in exasperation, the voice too recognizable for your own good.

“You are not my mother, Nanami. I can do whatever I want ."

ㅤ

Your back is facing his and when Kento comes to seat himself across, your features contort in distaste. 

“Well, I suppose not. But at the very least I care for you as a friend “. The smile that dances on his lips is strained. It gets under your skin and makes you feel annoyed. 

“So, what are you here for? Did my mother ask you to persuade me to meet another guy? Because if it is, then you can fuck off. “

ㅤ

 He smirks, more relaxed.

“Although your colourful vocabulary would be much appreciated if that had been the case , I am afraid that my visit is on different grounds ‘’ You stiffen at the delicately veiled urgency threaded in his voice. “I am sure you must have also noticed the strange number of deaths this summer “. 

A breeze wafts across your hair, and even as you run your hands through it, the shiver that licks up your spine has nothing to do with that. 

“Yes. The numbers are highly unusual. In my life, this is my first time to come across something like this .” 

ㅤ

Kento nods, his fingers resting on his chin, deep in contemplation. 

“I thought so. Have you figured out what’s causing it? “ 

“No “, you quip back. 

“Can we consider it an epidemic? “

You part your lips with a sigh. “We aren’t ruling it out, but the risk of it occurring in a town like ours is low. Almost close to none .” 

ㅤ

Kento’s gaze meets yours at that.  

“But not zero? “ 

His acute stare makes you falter. “No . “ 

ㅤ

You can see the cogs in his head spinning, his hands now coming to fiddle with the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose. Time between you two feels stagnant. You bask in the silence, easy after so many years, your eyes drinking in his appearance. The origojyō that rests on his shoulders is carefully pressed, the gold silk a stark contrast against the black robe, though it brings out the colour of his hair more this way, you suppose. It has been a while since the last time you two had met for anything other than the usual clan meetings and the prospect of so left a sour taste in your mouth. 

ㅤ

Kento looks up from his lap when he questions further.

“So, what is your course of action for now? To treat the patients? From what I heard, it’s a type of anaemia. “ 

“Well, we have tested giving them antibiotics, vitamins and other drugs for said condition. So far, nothing has improved the results. I have spoken to one of my acquaintances in the city hospital, only for him to give me the same alternatives.  “

ㅤ

“A hit and trial, then?” Kento sounds curious more than anything. However, the anger that you kept tucked in keeps escaping at the seams .

“A chance to save people in any way possible. To save their lives.” The harshness of your tone isn’t lost on Kento . 

You take a deep breath before continuing.

“And who are you to call me out on my methods? What do you do anyway? You only have to bury the bodies in the end. “The words that spill past from your lips are wicked. 

ㅤ

To his credit, he barely looks fazed and answers,

“My duty as a monk ties me to not being able to help the people in a way you can. I would like to contribute my services to the village in a way more suited to me. I have arranged to talk to the family of the deceased to see if there is any tie we might have missed between the deaths. “

His words are carefully crafted and make you see red. But you know better to accost him further, the foremost reason to keep both your egos in check. Instead, you put out the cigarette and rise from your seat.

ㅤ

You bow at him lightly, more out of habit than courtesy, and then step out of the patio, footsteps impatient. 

You have taken several steps before you hear him speak.

ㅤ

“(Y/n), I would never doubt your capabilities as a doctor. “ 

It makes you halter. The affirmation makes your heart flutter strangely.

 “I will see you at the meeting tomorrow “. If he hears you, he doesn’t respond . 

ㅤ

ㅤ

As a monk, they teach you many things. Nanami remembers his mother tenderly caressing his head as a kid, urging him to be just as caring for others. His father gruelling him under a sole candlelight in the dark room, teaching him the weight of one’s own willpower. The people he blessed, clasping his hands and thanking him for his wisdom . 

Though as he ascends the steps to the temple, the sound of his heartbeat echoes like a lone verse. The moonlight bleaches the canopy overhead, his path only illuminated by the gaps in between. His mind continues to circle back to the tales he had heard as a child, whispered away from prying ears, and cannot help but wonder if they were grounded in reality.

ㅤ

Sotoba was a village that grew on ‘death’. From the forest that wrapped its roots along the perimeter, to the cliffs that isolated it from the rest of the world. The firs that had been planted many ages ago were needed to build coffins, and it is on these that the economy sustained itself. The village of theirs was born to produce offerings for funerals . 

The village itself had established its place among the rituals for the dead. A piece of earth given to each of its inhabitants as their final resting place. A fir sown on the gravesite after the passing of 33 years and then forgotten .

Only a bridge linked it to the other shore of the world. All sides of it bereft of life but the trees of death . 

The village existed to serve the dead. That is why some people believed the village was cursed. Nanami hoped that wasn’t the case.

ㅤ

His visits today all had led to nothing, and he expected so, given the situations, despite that, the tension in his shoulders is palpable from a distance. Nanami has never been a stranger to death. Growing up in a temple makes you only so much affected, the reality of life cementing in your ideals at a much younger age. But the cases were getting under his skin, festering like an itchy rash. And no matter where he looked, how many people he asked, there was no conclusive solution.  

His only hope is Y/n. The entire town’s only hope is her. He knows that when she puts her mind to something, nothing can stop her. He has never seen her so agitated, even during her lowest. The situation must be dire enough to even make her lose calm. More reason to be vigilant, he thinks to himself. 

He is at the threshold of the temple when he hears a tinkling voice behind him.

ㅤ

“ Nanami - San “.

It is uncommon for anyone to visit the temple at such late hours, but not unheard of. When Nanami turns around, his eyes widen slightly in bewilderment .  

ㅤ

There is a little girl that stands a few steps below him. She could hardly be older than 12, her long hair curled around her slight frame, dark as the twilight that surrounds them. Her dress looks like something he would often see in the period dramas he watched with you in school. The hem neatly trimmed with white lace, contrasting the violet fabric. It’s her eyes that throw him off, though. Her pupils nearly swallow up the entirety of it, stygian grey and all. They feel predatory and he almost flinches underneath the sharp gaze.

ㅤ

She speaks up again , 

“You are Nanami san, right ? “

He nods. Her lips tilt into a smile . 

“I have been wanting to meet you since forever. I have read all your books and have always been a huge fan of your stories . “ 

ㅤ

Of all the things today, this catches him impossibly with more surprise than he expects. Nanami has published many works, but none aimed at children. The intricate vocabulary and realistic stories hardly would be comprehensible by kids . 

Unable to help himself, he asks, 

“You have read them ?” 

As though she expects the question, she grins lazily.

“Hmm. A few words are hard to grasp at first, but I have come to be very fond of your writing. I have read all your works. The six novels and the two short stories  . “

“That seems to be about right. I am flattered that you liked my works so. I have to say you are my youngest reader yet. “

ㅤ

Nanami smiles warmly at her, and she reflects the same enthusiasm .

“Ever since I read them, I wanted to meet you in person . “

He lets slip a laugh at that .

“I hope I could meet your expectations .”

She sways her head . 

“Your stories sound like a man who was abandoned by God wrote them. But I feel like this suits you more. Unlike the scar on your wrist . “

ㅤ

Nanami flinches as one of his hands comes to rest against the wrist of the other. His fingers splay against the scarred flesh and all the warmth in his chest drains at her words. He lands a hard gaze at her . 

“Who are you?” The words taste sour on his tongue . 

“I am Sunako. “

“Sunako. I suggest you return home. It’s late at night. I am sure your parents would be concerned . “

ㅤ

Sunako stares at him for a couple of heartbeats before turning on her heel. 

She goes down a few steps before she stops, turns around and looks at him with eyes drowning in sympathy .

ㅤ

“A person won’t die from a single cut on their wrist . “ 

ㅤ

ㅤ

[goodlucktai]

What about some hurt/comfort for Natsume & Natori? (Not slash tho)

Natori doesn't seem like he has anyone in his life to take care of him except his shikigami :(

x

"You need to sleep," Hiiragi says. Her tone is unchanging, an unhurried monotone, but somehow it manages to carry a thread of concern.

Shuuichi waves her off, sifting through papers. "In a minute. I just have to finish this."

A group of exorcists in over their heads sent these reports earlier today. Yesterday, now, Shuuichi amends inwardly with a bleary glance at the clock in the kitchen, which reads an inappropriately cheerful 6:07 AM. And they'll arrive to collect them, along with Shuuichi's notes, in just a few hours.

"They are presumptuous," Hiiragi says, "to assume you had this time to spare them, and on such short notice. You're busy."

"Not with anything that matters," Shuuichi laughs. It comes out not sounding like a laugh at all. Hiiragi tips her head incrementally to the side, no doubt staring at him behind her mask.

"Your work does matter."

"This work does," Shuuichi says, laying a hand on the papers scattered across the desk. "The other stuff-- "

"The 'stuff' that pays your bills," Hiiragi says. "The 'stuff' that keeps you fed, and gives you reason to leave your house and interact with people who won't make you think about ghosts."

It's Shuuichi's turn to stare. "I didn't realize you were such a firm believer in my acting career."

"I don't understand it," she says frankly. "But you enjoy it. It may not be.... 'vanquishing evil,'" she goes on, quoting the report the exorcists sent as if it's something slimy she's peeling off her shoe, "but that doesn't mean it doesn't matter."

It might be the lack of sleep talking, but Shuuichi feels strangely touched. He has to swallow before he can reply, something that happens rarely, if at all.

"I'll make sure to sign an autograph for you," he teases, grinning. "But only after I've finished this."

"Hm," Hiiragi says. She doesn't call him an idiot, at least. A few minutes after that she leaves from the living room window, ostensibly to patrol the neighborhood.

Shuuichi will just finish his notes, and then set an alarm for-- he checks the clock again, and winces-- and hour and a half. He'll get that much sleep, at least. He's worked with less.

At some point, the front door opens. That's odd. Only a few people have a key to his apartment, and none of them who do live anywhere near here. His shiki certainly don't use the door.

A familiar voice says, "Hi, Natori-san."

Shuuichi lifts his head, so fast his vision swims. There's Natsume, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the sitting room, hands full with a cardboard drink tray and a brown paper bag bearing the distinctive golden arches. He looks decidedly windblown, as if he flew the whole way here. He probably did.

His brow is wrinkled, mouth tucked into a frown. It's the way Shuuichi imagines Hiiragi's face looks behind her mask at least ninety-percent of the time.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Shuuichi says, pushing himself upright. He has to lean on the desk to get there. Natsume clocks it with a flick of his eyes but doesn't comment. "Don't you have school today?" Shuuichi goes on, desperately trying to remember what day it is. Friday, right?

"No school," Natsume says, putting the drinks and the bag on the counter. "Teacher's institute."

"Are you in trouble?" Shuuichi asks carefully.

"I have to be in trouble to come visit you?"

Natsume wanders into the sitting room and sets his messenger bag and his ugly cat down on the sofa. He actually points a stern finger at the cat in clear warning that it needs to behave itself, as if it isn't actually a giant monster capable of leveling buildings should it so choose. Something about that manages to be hilarious, where it isn't slightly horrifying.

Shuuichi smiles a bit. This weird kid means the world to him.

"Did you bring me breakfast?" he asks lightly. "I hope that's coffee."

Natsume is so receptive to any manner of kindness, even after the life he's lived, that he smiles back like a knee-jerk reaction. It still feels like an accomplishment when he does.

"Tea," he corrects. "And some egg sandwiches. The sausage ones are for sensei. Can you eat with me, or-- if you're too busy-- "

"I can take a break," Shuuichi says, and slings his arm around Natsume's shoulders, steering him back into the kitchen. "Let's talk about what dragged you all the way out here in the early hours of the morning, shall we? Does your mother know where you are?"

"Of course she does," Natsume insists. "She even sent some leftovers with me. I put them in the fridge already."

Shuuichi is in a vulnerable state, and that just about undoes him. He clears his throat and takes a big, scalding gulp of tea instead of saying or doing anything embarrassing. "Tell her I said thank you," he manages.

"Or you could just call her," Natsume points out dryly.

"Or I could just call her," Shuuichi agrees.

In his defense, Shuuichi truly didn’t stand a chance. The combination of heavy food and a hot drink… the pale fingers of dawn creeping through the shades at the kitchen window… the steady back-and-forth of comfortable, friendly conversation… no one asking anything of him, expecting anything from him, except his company…

He dozes off in his chair at the counter, face buried in his folded arms. He feels someone draw a blanket around his shoulders, their cold fingers lingering protectively near his nape, and Hiiragi’s voice says, “Thank you. He’s very stupid.”

“No he isn’t,” Natsume replies loyally. “Well, not all the time.”

It’s ridiculous how well Shuuichi sleeps after that.

He wakes up a solid ten hours later, the blanket slipping to the floor. The TV is on in the next room. Hiiragi is perched on the counter beside him. Her mask somehow manages to appear both smug and judgemental without actually changing at all.

“Sleep well?” she asks with no inflection.

“What-- time is it?” Shuuichi asks blearily, looking around for the clock.

“A little after four,” Hiiragi says. “Those exorcists have come and gone.”

“What?”

“They didn’t come inside. Natsume dealt with them at the door.”

“Sorry, Natori-san,” Natsume pipes up in the doorway. He shuffles a bit, self-conscious until Hiiragi seems to catch his eye. Then he lifts his chin a little and says, “You seemed tired, so I handled it. Hiiragi and Sasago both said it was okay.”

Betrayal, Shuuichi thinks, glaring hard at Hiiragi. She gazes serenely back, entirely unmoved. He’s firing her.

“Natsume, I appreciate it,” because there’s very little in this life that Natsume could do that Shuuichi wouldn’t back him up on, “but don’t talk to strangers. Even though they’re exorcists, that doesn’t automatically make them trustworthy.”

“I don’t trust most exorcists,” Natsume says plainly. “You’re one of, like, two exceptions.”

And there’s a lot to unpack there, but for some reason the first thing Shuuichi thinks of to ask is, “One of two? Who’s the other one?”

After a beat, in which Natsume looks as though he doesn’t want to answer, he admits, “Hakozaki-san.”

“Hak-- the recluse with the dragon shiki? The owner of that mansion we watched burn?” Shuuichi laughs, unable to help himself. It unwinds tension in his body he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Natsume, you never even met him!”

“I still liked him!” Natsume says hotly, embarrassed. “He was friends with yokai!”

“And I’m sure if he’d had the chance to know you, he would have spirited you away as his son and heir within two business days.” Shuuichi chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Lucky for me he didn’t have the chance, I suppose.”

Natsume huffs, but he still climbs into the seat next to Shuuichi. After a beat, Nyanko-sensei hops up into his lap.

“I might have gotten you in trouble with those exorcists,” the boy admits. “I told them to do their own homework from now on. That if they kept taking advantage of your kindness, you wouldn’t help them anymore.” He glances at Shuuichi sidelong from beneath his fringe, and adds, “They got mad, so I sicced sensei on them. I, um, think they thought he was my shiki. I also think they thought I’m from your clan. I couldn’t tell ‘cause they were all, um-- screaming, at the same time.”

And-- okay. There is a right and a wrong way to react to this, clearly. A teenage boy using his terrifying yokai friend to menace people within Shuuichi’s network? Not good! Very bad, even!

But Shuuichi has to lean forward against the counter, face buried in his hands, because he’s absolutely howling with laughter. Natsume is stammering, trying to explain himself, but he doesn’t say sorry. He isn’t sorry for sticking up for Shuuichi. He showed up at Shuuichi’s apartment at seven AM with McDonald’s on his day off from school, and chased a bunch of exorcists out of the building, because his friend needed a break and that’s just the kind of person Natsume is.

The kind of person who deserves something fancy for dinner tonight, Shuuichi decides, and he’s still smiling as he reaches for his phone.

Hiiragi places it neatly in his hand.

“I don’t want your autograph,” she says. She doesn't call him an idiot out loud, but she's probably thinking it.

Hell, he’ll order something fancy for her, too.

[frobin]

Okey serious question here. How much do you actually believe that Oda ships Frobin? Like do you think he actually have like doodles/sketchs of them in a pairing kind of way? like for the strong world film riding the motorbug? (Personally i would love it to be true but he has stated one piece isn't about romance in that way)

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for your question and I hope I can answer it seriously enough. Also once more sorry for the late response. I felt like a question like that needs some research and that is what I did these last few days.

So... I think I'll start with the tl;dr because that way people can read that and ignore the rest.

So, long answer short: I 100% believe that Oda has one or more sketchbooks with drawings of his characters that are absolutely self-indulgent. I am 98% sure that he has drawn Franky and Robin in a romantic way at least once (and supported the ship). I am 80% sure he still is shipping FRobin.

Little disclaimer: I actually have no idea if any of this is true. I pull everything in my arguments out of my own experiences and knowledge and since I'm not a 46 year old Japanese Mangaka my perspective might be WAY OFF.

argument - reason- example - conclusion... behind the cut (or in the google doc)

So, why do I think that Oda has a secret sketchbook?

Simple answer is that he is an artist. He is drawing a lot and no artist will publish everything. That can have multiple reasons like imposter syndrome or because the artist thinks it’s not good or interesting enough or they just forget. There are even more reasons I forget and every person has their own.

For Oda I can imagine two big reasons as to why he would keep secret sketchbooks.

First: He is a horndog. You can skip this part if you don’t want to read about it, to the second reason.

Anyway, we know thanks to answers in the SBS, the way he likes to draw big-breasted women and how some of his characters are classified as perverts that he can be considered one too.

Let me show you a few of a few lewd SBS questions he likes to answer in a funny way:

Chapter 228, Page 46

D: How are ya, Odacchi? I know how much you like getting butt-naked, so this must be a favourite season for you. <3

O: Yes, yes. I just LOVE getting completely naked. In the summertime, after I take a bath I just run STRAIGHT OUTSIDE!! And when the girls' softball team running on the sidewalk looks over at me, they say, "Yup, it's really summer now!!" ... AS IF!! I'D GET ARRESTED!!!

(x)

Chapter 433, Page 68

D: If Lady Robin can use her Hana Hana Powers to make any part of her body sprout somewhere else, does that mean she can do it with her ample bosom as well? "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Boy, I'd like to take a hit from that sometime... P.N. Ero Ero no Mi Devil Fruit User.

O: "Ichirin-zaki" (Single Sprout) "Nirin-zaki" (Double Sprout) "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Very clever!! NO IT'S NOT!! STOP THAT!! I'm sure she CAN do it though ♡

(x)

Chapter 798, Page 64

D: Oddachi, I'll give you a pornographic book, so please answer my question. Sanji won't allow anyone to waste food, but what will he do if a woman does so? P.N. Smoker's Cigar

O: I think he would grab the plate and eat it up. Now please give me the pornographic book.

(x)

Nowadays I’m sure there is a focus on those lewder questions compared to the beginning because that is what 13 year old boys laugh about and we all know that is Oda's main demographic (of course).

I think a very good picture of that is given by Tekking101 in his breakdown video of SBS Volume 100.

“Let’s get diving into these questions (...) now, this is a huge moment. I mean, not many Manga manage to reach 100 Volumes, Okay? Now I know Oda usually starts these off with questions relating to boobs and things that don’t really… you know, aren’t really relevant but you know, this is a big celebration so we’re gonna dive right into it. I bet the most important things that we need to know about the One Piece Story are right here in these pages, okay? I printed them out. That is how important this is. So let’s start off, shall we? Epic voice, Barry!

‘Mister Oda, there is a UFO over there with huge big-breasted beauties on it. That memorable 100 Volume of the SBS is about to begin.’

[pause] Yeah, like the first five of these are all related to boobs in some way. You know what Oda? Sticking true to your guns! Godspeed, Sir Oda. Godspeed.”

(end at around 2:30)

So, Oda is a man who likes beautiful women and who draws.

Coming to the conclusion that he will draw his own characters in suggestive poses, naked and even doing adult stuff is not hard.

Obviously he would not show these sketches just around. He would probably keep them in a secret sketchbook that he keeps at a safe location. Maybe his wife and some close friends know about it? Maybe it is his and only his little secret.

I don’t think it would be unlikely to learn about this years into the future, maybe the next generation of Anime Fans will hear about this.

And it would not be the first time that something like this happened.

Not that long ago the daughter of Osamu Tezuka - groundbreaking Mangaka, known for his works of “Astro Boy”, “Kimba the white lion” and many more - found his adult Furry art. Source; Japanese article;

It’s a fact that many Mangaka did indeed start their career with art of the more risque kind and/or as doujinshi artists.

So again, I have no doubt that Oda, a known pervert, has one or more secret sketchbooks with „the p0rnography“ in it. Is there only hot stuff in there? Not necessarily.

The second reason to keep a secret sketchbook would be to collect information in there, that could be considered canon but he is not willing to use it in the Manga. Maybe they are not important enough or will be used later.

What am I imagining here? Anything that could be considered too weird for the normal sketchbook but isn‘t too risque. Funny things that might still not be „appropriate.“

Like a sketch of the male Strawhat ding-dongs with the sizes beside it. All the lewd jokes the fans did about Luffy's stretching qualities? I’m sure Oda thought about them too and drew that in the past if he had the time and it made him laugh enough.

But also maybe there are scenes in there that never made it in the Manga. The Strawhats interacting with each other in their daily lives, ideas for colorspreads and maybe chapter-titles. Oda probably has noted/sketched down a lot of unofficial stuff somewhere.

Another example, even an artist like Oda himself would have needed to exercise drawing two people kissing. Why not use Characters he thinks that might work out together?

Why not Franky and Robin? I would imagine he sketched up a few panels of Franky and Robin having a romantic date, going shopping together in Dressrosa, having a conversation that we never got to see because it was too on the nose.

Which brings us to the second point of me being very sure that Oda had drawn FrankyXRobin at one point.

I’m sure in those sketchbooks there is at least one drawing of them doing anything couple-related together. Again it does not have to be downright nasty but it could be them holding hands, kissing or even just Robin leaning onto Franky while reading, like all those fanarts that exist out there.

It’s not hard to imagine. Even for other Characters I think that is possible

And there might even be proof for that idea. The sketch of the Strong World movie you also mentioned, anon. The one movie that can be considered canon is Strong World. It was basically written/directed by Oda. Shiki the antagonist had an appearance in the Manga.

This sketch is drawn by Oda. Robin is holding onto Franky.

Can it be read as romantic? Yes. Can it be read as Robin holding onto Franky because there is nothing else to hold onto? Also Yes. But couldn't she just have used her power to keep herself secured on the bike without holding onto Franky? WELL YES. Could Oda never have thought in these circles like I do right now? I hope he did not because I hate it and I don’t wish it upon him.

In the movie Robin is NOT holding onto Franky. Now the really interesting thing - that is neither proof pro nor anti FRobin - is that we can see the sketch provided by Oda as a “between the scenes”.

In the movie Strong World the old trio is collecting information at the Pirate assembly. The next time we see them they use the Batta GT-7000 to slowly approach the destroyed village, which had been ravaged by the animals, and start to look for their friends. No need to hold onto Franky and no need for Brook to lean back. They are looking around.

The sketch is clearly not the same scene as the one we see in the movie.

In conclusion the drawing is indeed a between the scenes drawing. And yes if there exists one, who is to say there aren’t more?

Talking about Animal-Bikes...

Is there any meaning about the fact that in the opening scene (that is part of the talked intro after the opening ‘We Go’ - a huge thanks to antiherofangirl, ccb0nnet, JFL_Estudios and Maems, over at twitter!) Franky and Robin build another grasshopper-based vehicle? Maybe not but I still feel like it’s quite a callback.

Where did the idea to put this in the beginning come from? a) an editor had the idea inspired by Strong World; b) maybe it’s another sketch that Oda provided.

Neither seems very far-fetched in my opinion.

So yes, I am very sure that Oda has drawn things that we would consider FRobin.

Now to the last point (the first being Oda having a secret sketchbook, the second me arguing that Oda might have drawn FRobin).

As I said in the beginning I’m very sure that at one point Oda did and kinda that he still does ship Franky and Robin. Because even though every Interaction of two characters can be depicted as romantic or platonic, Oda used ROMANTIC TROPES with Franky and Robin.

They have never kissed on screen but we had

finishing each other's sentences

coordinated clothes

one using the others lap as pillow

hand on cheek caressing

and we can’t forget that Robin had answered Franky's invitation to ride on another animal-themed bike with a heart.

Edit: I didn‘t say anything about „no romance in OP“ so ask again if you want me to talk a bit about that. Sorry!

Those are things an author of Oda's level would not write or draw without being aware about how teasing this is. He has to be aware that every single line he draws will be analyzed to the end of the universe and back. People earn money by saying their opinion and interpretations about the Manga on Youtube.

These interactions are not something outlandish like “There was once an Anime Scene in which Robin was wearing something blue and exactly 28 episodes later Franky was wearing something violet and then 39 episodes later they both stood beside each other for exactly 69 seconds.”

Whenever I think about these facts, things that are not about interpreting but are factual, black ink on white paper but also about the little things, about how Frank and Robin help each other to become better, how they support each other… I want to say YES! ODA IS 100% on board! While in reality I’m 80% sure and 20% of me is wondering if I’m not actually analyzing too much into it. If maybe he really is abandoning ship. Maybe I will become the person who will curse his name and throw my Mangas and fanfictions in an active volcano?

I don’t know and it’s impossible to say what is going to happen.

And with that I've concluded this answer, and it only took me around 2k words and four days.

[spinningotherarrow]

The Descent and Decay of a Young Man Into the Night

Table of Contents

Hello hello! It’s Arrow! I want to get what I have posted; I hope to get at least to the end of the first “act” before I slump back into another hiatus on this project so I think posting will help get me motivated. This is the chapter I was on before my first hiatus as like the last one its one I needed to get down right. I hope the pacing isn’t too weird but otherwise I like how it came out.

I had trouble thinking of a name that’d fit the theme I have going. This one kinda works?

Chapter 7: The Disc

A dream. The dream I had several nights prior, of the princess....of Arcueid. A field of white flowers. The full moon. Now that I've met her again, she looked clearer in my mind's eye than ever. I could almost reach out and touch her. But as I moved to do so, the world around me shifted, as if time itself was speeding up. Before I knew it, I had a different form, someone else, but still myself. Then again. Then again. Onwards and onwards.

At one point I was a serial killer doing battle with a man in a black shroud. In another I was a hermit noble experimenting on the human body. In yet another I was a bishop presiding over a small dominion. Another still I was a baker's daughter turning the knife on my own beloved parents. All these lives boil over into bloodshed and they all end the same way: Arcueid appears.

I wake up in a cold sweat. The dream, all the lives glimpsed within it, seemed so real...realer than reality. But I was someone else in each of them. But I was still myself. So then? Who am I? Am I truly Shiki Tohno?

“I didn't expect you to be up already, Shiki-san.” Kohaku's soft voice lured me back to reality. “I thought you'd try to sleep in juuuuust a little bit considering last night's incident. I wouldn't tell~”

I shook off Kohaku's teasing. “Don't treat me like I'm completely irresponsible. I'm more than capable of waking up on time.” I got up and began getting ready for the day, Kohaku handing me what I needed from the closet as I prepared for the shower.

Coming out afterwards and beginning to dress myself, I turned back to Kohaku. “Kohaku, do you believe in reincarnation?”

“Of course, of course.” Kohaku didn't miss a beat, her smiling expression unchanging. “I think I might have been a cat in my past life. That suits me, don't you think? Nya?”

“If we are the reincarnations of someone else, are we really ourselves? Or just a continuation of someone else?”

Kohaku sighed and shook her head. “Shiki-san I wouldn't know anything about that. I'm a maid, just a goofy maid. ...You didn't have a weird dream again, did you?”

I looked away from her. I didn't know what to say. Was it just a weird dream? Even if it was, it definitely seems to have stirred thought within me. Just like the original dream did...

“Ah ha! You did! Your cool guy cold shoulder gives you away.” Kohaku giggled.

I tilted my head back to look at Kohaku directly, my hand pushing my bangs back as I did so. “It seems I did, yeah. I guess you can say I'm in a, well, philosophical mood this morning.”

Kohaku nodded. “Well, don't think too hard Shiki-san!”

I put on the finishing touches on getting on my school uniform. Looking at myself in the mirror, something about the standard look seemed...off. On impulse, I unfashioned the buttons on my jacket, exposing my white shirt beneath, not unlike how Arihiko wears his. Much better.

While I was doing this, I could overhear Kohaku muttering to herself how I ignored her cat joke.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. True to Kohaku's words the prior night, Father seemed none the wiser to my leaving the mansion. Against my better judgement, as it may tip Father off somehow, I decided to raise the question to him and Akiha as well.

“I know this is sudden, but do you believe in reincarnation?”

Akiha shook her head. “Why are you asking such weird questions all of the sudden?” She paused. “I've never really thought about it seriously but, yes, I can say I do.”

I turned to look her in the eyes. “Would you consider yourself a continuation of your past life, or a new person simply born from them?”

“It depends on how much effect my past life has on my current I suppose. If my past life has nothing to do with my current, can I say it really matters?”

“However-” Father spoke up now. “It is impossible for us to be aware of our prior incarnations beyond an inkling of a memory. What is important is who we are here and now. Our duty is to perform our current roles in life without fail. Pondering over things impossible to prove will merely distract us.”

I nodded. “So you are telling me to drop it then, Father?”

He nodded back. “For your own good. You and Akiha have enough in terms of struggles in this life.”

With that I didn't bring it up again. But it still nagged at the back of my head. Reincarnation.

Leaving for school, I decided to bring it up to Arihiko as I saw him. I didn't know what I expected from him on this, but it couldn't hurt. Might make for better small talk on the way to school than the prior murders.

“Reincarnation, huh? Well, if it exists it's as natural as breathing and dying. Hmm.” He rose his hand to his chin, deep in thought. “Life's like...a disc, you know? You reach the 'end' of the disc, then you restart. You're the same disc, but as far as you're concerned, what happened before hasn't happened.”

I was somewhat taken aback. “Sometimes you surprise me when you say smart things like that.”

“Are you saying you think I'm stupid, Shiki-kun?”

“No, no of course not.”

“You better not be.” He gave me a light smack on the back of the shoulder. It seems he and Kohaku had more in common than I thought.

“So what brought this on anyway, Shiki-kun?”

“Well...” I cricked my neck and stretched my arms behind my head. “I had another dream. This was similar to the first one-”

“-with the princess.”

“-Yeah. But I was meeting her again and again in different lives.” I left out that this was amidst bloody doings and that each meeting ended with her killing me. “No matter who I was, she managed to find me.”

Arihiko nodded. “So this mysterious dream girl has been following you from incarnation to incarnation. If Yumizuka-chan was here she'd say you were soulmates. Or maybe starcrossed lovers.” He pinned that on Satsuki, but he seemed familiar with those kinds of tropes himself.

“I don't even know if that woman is real.  I thought I met her in the city, but right after I had the dream so-”

I suddenly stopped in my tracks. A ways away, next to the crosswalk, a familiar figure sat on the railing. Short blond hair, white shirt, dark skirt, pale skin and red eyes that were only sparsely dulled by the sun's light. It was her. It really was her....

Without thinking, I ran towards her, leaving a confused Arihiko in the dust. Something seemed to clob in my throat, a mixture of excitement, confusion, anticipation and...fear?

As I approached, Arcueid smiled and leaped down from the railing. “There you are! I thought if I hung around I'd find some sign of you somewhere. The school Ciel's going to is just down-”

“You're real?!” I spat out before letting her complete her thought. So I was wrong to second guess it. I did go out last night and I did meet Arcueid...

“Wow, rude.” Her tone of voice and expression indicated she was more amused than actually offended. “I told you I'd prove to you that you weren't dreaming right?”

I was dumbstruck. I didn't know what to say. If the meeting last night was all there was, I'd ask her what she intended to do next after meeting me here but the dream, the memory, blared in my head. A feeling of both 'you need to run' and 'you can't leave her side'.

“Wow, Shiki-kun. The pretty blond got your tongue?” By this point Arihiko had caught up to us. His voice was a pleasant return to my normal self.

“Y...yeah.” I turned to Arcueid. “This is my friend. Arihiko Inui.”

Arcueid beamed and extended her hand towards Arihiko. “Oh, nice to meet you! Are you a weird person too?”

“Hell yeah.” Arihiko didn't miss a beat, eagerly shaking Arcueid's hand.

“-and this is Arcueid Brunestud. She's a friend of mine from out of town-”

“I'm here to take care of your vampire problem!” Arcueid interrupted me with a tinge of pride in her voice, as if to get back at me from earlier. My eyes widened in panic. Arihiko didn't know anything about the truth behind the bloodless murders, how would he react-

“Oh cool, someone needed to do something about that. The police aren't doing shit.” He responded nonchalantly. Did...did he think she was referring to the murders metaphorically? He turned his head to me. “Honestly, I like her. If you need an ice breaker, why not ask her about the disc?”

Arcueid tilted her head in confoundment. “A disc? Like a frisbee? That's more of a dog thing and I'm more of a cat.” Again with cats. Again with people reminding me of Kohaku.

I shook my head. “No, it's a metaphor. For reincarnation. I don't know if it is a western concept so do you know what that is Arcueid?”

She crossed her arms, her expression changed to a pout. “Oh I know exactly what reincarnation is. You don't even know the half of it.”

“I see, perfect.” I continued. “I had a dream last night of what seemed to be past lives and it made me think. If reincarnation exists, where does one self end and the other begin? Are we ourselves, or just continuations of who we were before?”

Arcueid's face took a concerned look I hadn't seen before. “Pretty deep stuff...”

“Were you going to mention to Arcueid-chan about the princess in your dream too?” With only minimal thought Arihiko cut in. “Or...wait you said you met dream girl in the city, right? Is Arc-chan the dream princess somehow?”

With each word out of Arihiko's mouth Arcueid's expression seemed to grow colder until her face was completely grim.

“Hey, I don't mean to be a downer but...something just came up. Right now.” With those words Arcueid excused herself from the conversation and turned to leave.

“Wait! Arcueid!” I tried to call out to her but before I knew it she had disappeared into the crowd. Was something about her being in my dreams upsetting to her? Or did it allow her to realize I was the person she was killing in those memories?

Arihiko slumped over completely dumbfounded. “Did...did I blow it for you Shiki-kun?”

I turned back to him and shook my head. “No, not at all. You're timing was terrible but...it was bound to come up eventually. I...hope she'll come around.”

“Yeah, me too. Like I said, I like her. She's got spunk.”

We continued on to school without note. It wasn't until school let out that I realized I hadn't seen Ciel at all, not even hanging out with Satsuki or the third years. Remembering their conversation from yesterday, I decided to ask Noel about it.

“Ciel-chan? Oh, she's out sick today. Came in running a fever. A blond girl came by and had to walk her home.” Noel's voice faltered with her sweet act and had a clear tone of annoyance.

“Do you know how long she'll be out?”

Noel just stared at me blankly before her usual persona returned to her face. “Oh, I'm sure its just a small one. She'll be back in class by tomorrow or the next day. Don't worry about it Tohno-kun!”

I nodded and turned to leave. I had hoped to ask Ciel about my recent dream and about Arcueid, but this really put a hamper on things. I wonder if this means there'll be one less vampire hunter out tonight too?

As I left the room, Noel muttered something under her breath. It was almost inaudible, but somehow my ears were able to pick it up. It was French again, and it was something like...

'But you won't be around to see it.'

[jesstielle]

okay i have Feelings about NEO: TWEWY and nobody to shout them at because literally nobody else I know plays it which is truly a crime; the original twewy remains one of my favourite games to this day.  but anyway.  massive NEO TWEWY spoilers inbound:

First of all it truly is a miracle that this game even exists.  I never once actually believed we’d get a sequel.  Let alone one this good!! It is really, really good!!!

Things I Enjoyed:

- The gameplay.  Whoo boy.  Up to about 4 team members, anyway.  It’s fast paced, button mashing satisfaction, that manages to keep elements from the original game while still being fresh and fun, if not entirely chaotic, which is why after 4 characters, it was a bit like, ‘okay, chill, let us switch out or something’ lmao

- The new characters.  Although I feel like we leave the game not knowing as much about them as I would like, the new team are really great, and Nagi in particular really shone in terms of character grown.  Rindo.. I feel like I know as little about him now as I did at the start :|a Maybe I just missed something.

I honestly found the teams and their leaders kinda forgettable >>;; Although the heel-face turn on Motoi was pretty great.  I needed more from Kanon to feel anything when she, yknow.

The new reapers were... a mixed bunch. Shoka was fantastic, Susukichi was... a bit much in English, great in Japanese, Tsugumi was great but didn’t get enough screen time (unless she gets more post game, I dunno yet) Shiba annoyed the fuck outta me, Kaie was alright.. the others... meh.  They don’t hold up to Kariya and Uzuki. And obviously Kubo sucks ass pfft

- The reappearing characters.  of course i loved them.  i got a hit of serotonin every time one appeared on my screen. neku my son. josh  the reapers.  i was never a huge minamimoto stan lmao but he was fun. even curry don. but some were DIRELY underutilised which i WILL COME BACK TO

- THE MUSIC.  twewy cannot fail on its music, it’s amazing, it’s glorious, it’s multi faceted, it goes hard. and adding in Beat’s psyche, a rhythm mini game acting as the fast walk button???? yes. yes yes yes yes.  yessssssss. 

- The graphics.  Mostly.  Everything looked beautiful, and HD, and the character designs were great - not toooooooooo Nomura but Nomura enough, yknow? And the occasional chibi faces were great lol.  The chaotic battles sometimes caused lag which... I mean, they coulda given us the option to turn off some of the animations or damage graphics lmao but hey.  the forced perspective on shibuya was a bit off occasionally but it was how the original game did it and it’s all for the ~aesthetic~ so hey.  And it was great seeing some of the original locations looking so much more fleshed out

- The Localisation.  Personally, I think the translators struck a perfect balance that made the kids seem like they’d fit right into today’s culture.  It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t ‘look at us we are Teenagers’, it was right on the mark.  And it was really, really interesting hearing just how different the Japanese VA lines were compared to the English translations.  They really went all out and it paid off, imo.

Dislikes: (i haven’t read the secret reports yet tho)

- UNDERUTILISATION OF THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS - now, look, okay, I’m biased.  I admit it.  I’m a Josh and Neku stan lmao, so I was looking forward to seeing them the whole game.  And as it went on and on and I realised I wouldn’t be until much later, it bummed me out.  The bait n’ switch with Beat was funny at first, and I enjoyed it a lot, until I realised that yeah, that’s what they’re going with.  Beat’s probably my least favourite partner from the original (sorry) but even disregarding that, it annoys me that they gave him like 10,000x more screen time than even Neku. 

Not to mention Shiki and Joshua!  Josh in particular I could write a whole essay on how pissed I am.  The lost potential.  Nobody mentioning him, ever, once.  Until he just sorta shows up and says a few things.  It makes NO SENSE, he’s the fucking composer, Neku and Beat worked with him, why aren’t they questioning his whereabouts when Shibuya’s turning to shit??????’  I just?????? I had low hopes for Josh content tbf but I am still disappointed :( And naught but one singular Hanekoma mention, as well.  Sigh.

Shiki, it’s a shame she doesn’t appear more, she certainly could have - I can think of like 5 ways off the top of my head - having her as a partner would have also been extremely good.

Neku at least we got..... half a week with. and as a PC.  And like, I know it’s not supposed to be about them, but throw us a bit more than cheap fanservice, yknow. And Kariya and Uzuki were great too.

- why, oh why, was every single team lackey male????  they couldn’t be arsed to make female designs????? it baffled me.

- SO. MUCH. SHIBUYA. TRAVERSING.  I don’t remember if it was that bad in the original?! But oh my god lol.  I think a lot of it was padding.  Sure felt like it.  Paired with the slightly hand hold-y mission progression cutscenes, they coulda cut a bunch of those out.

Other Stuff:

- The voice acting - fantastic in Japanese, okay in English, except for the returning characters?? didn’t sound great??? in english??? I was hyped to turn English back on for Beat but.... nah. Nahhh.  Nagi’s English VA was absolutely the best imo.

- They nailed the feel of the old game without totally copying it - the food, clothes, general aesthetic, music.  That said, it still felt a little too tied to the original.  Ironic considering the rant above I know lmao but... yeah.  The player psyches were a nice touch but I feel like it needed something to set it apart a lil more from its predecessor. 

- I didn’t realise A New Day existed until literally today and I wish I had seen it before I played Neo.  Now I know who Coco is lmao.  And Shinjuku’s erasure was part of that too! arghhhh. Nomura stop burying plot points in other things.  I’m a DS OG dont do this to me

- Rindo’s time travel power was cool but jumping back to the same point like 3 or 4 times in some cases got old

- You could really feel the KH3 energy of ‘play 30 hours until something or someone pivotal finally appears’ lol.  Nomuraaaaa. 

... anyway.

TL;DR good game, needed more Josh, also needs more fans please

[petri808]

Happy Halloween!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

*Bonus Halloween chapter* it’s longer than normal (2k)

The biggest party in Tokyo was for a western holiday called Halloween, and the streets surrounding the heart of Shibuya that Saturday were literally crawling with a million young adults in every kind of costume you could imagine! Most of the revelers had no idea as to the origins of this holiday. All they cared about was dressing up and having a good time, including Lucy and her friends who’d dressed up as their favorite manga characters from Eden’s Zero. The businesses lining the streets in the area were used to the onslaught and welcomed it because it meant a nice chunk of revenue, while authorities did their best to control the crowds.

The group started off with Lucy, Levy, Erza, Gajeel, and Gray, but over time as others showed up or they ran into more friends, the groups numbers ebbed and flowed. Gray was the first to take off to meet his girlfriend Juvia, and once Natsu was off of work and joined them, Lucy and he split off to cruise by themselves for a while.

“Wow it’s so eerie how much you guys look like Shiki and Rebecca!”

“Thanks Mira,” Lucy blushes.

“Tch, I may look like the guy, but I’m not as dopey as him,” Natsu retorts. “He’s taking too damn long to make it official with Rebecca.”

“Don’t mind him,” Lucy giggles, “Natsu ships Shicca hard. But it’s even funnier to watch him and Gray argue over Weiszmura.”

“That’s because Gray is a blind bat who won’t admit they match!”

“Okay,” Mira laughs, “put the canons away. Are you two gonna check out the BUMP party at Womb nightclub?”

“Maybe a little later.” Lucy answers for them. “I heard they had some decent bands this year, but I’d rather go somewhere a little smaller like Sonidos.”

“Oh, yeah? Lisanna’s boyfriend Bixlow is the DJ there tonight.”

Lucy looks to Natsu, “we definitely should stop by and say hi.”

“Agreed.”

“Well it was nice bumping into you. I need to meet up with Laxus so you two have fun! I’ll catch you later!” Mira waves as she rejoins the flood of passerby’s.

Natsu takes Lucy’s hand and the couple continued walking around with no real destination. They stop in open stores to browse or grab yummy-looking finger foods from street vendors along the way. Despite the chaos around them, this was turning into a nice reprieve from their daily lives. It was already 1 am, but from the amount of activity going on, it was easy to lose track of time.

“Look, look,” Lucy points while dragging Natsu with her. “Photo booth!”

“Aww, really?” He whines, though the smile never wavered on his face.

“Yup!” She pulls him in and fishes out a bill from her wallet for the machine.

“Chi-zu!”

The pair chuckle and pose for the five shutter clicks. Each pose varying until the last one ending with a kiss from Natsu and genuinely surprised expression on Lucy’s face. It wasn’t their first kiss, but this would be a memorable one. For a few seconds as the machine printed out the slip of photos, Natsu holds her gaze, sweeping his thumb gently along her flushed cheek. There was a sense of intimacy in these confined booths where many a couple had hidden away from the public for this very kind of very moment.

“Thank you,” he smiles, eyes soft and pure of appreciation.

“For what?” Genuinely unsure of the reason.

“Giving me a second chance. These past few months have been the happiest times of my life and it’s all thanks to meeting you on that train.”

“I’m really glad too,” Lucy smiles sweetly. “Really... really glad,” she breathes out as she moves in to kiss him again.

“Excuse me?” A loud knocking sound stops them. “There’s other people waiting to use the machine!”

“Whoops. To be continued,” she gives Natsu just a quick peck and the pair get out of the booth. They apologize to the next group in line and race off hand in hand, laughing. That had been exhilarating!

Lucy’s heart was still racing even though they were long gone from the photo booth. She and Natsu had been taking things extra slow because of her earlier concerns. Aside from dates and a few kisses here and there, they’d never gone much further and she wondered who was the one holding back. Was it really her or was it actually him because he was too nervous to lose her? Tonight... in that booth... if they weren’t in public... her body flushes wildly just from the thought of it. Okay, so maybe she’s been dying to take their relationship further. Maybe not sex— yet, soon, or maybe... ‘argh! Not now!’ Lucy scolds her libido. But a make out session was a very tempting idea!

They check out Lisanna and Bixlow for a short time at Sonidos, before briefly hooking back up with Levy and Gajeel for some crepes. That’s when Levy quietly informs Lucy that she’ll be crashing at her boyfriend’s house instead of going back to the dorm. “You know... for some privacy,” the girl winks at Lucy. “Hint. Hint!”

“I-It’s too soon for that! W-with us,” her tips burn with lies through each syllable.

“Pfft, you can’t lie that you’ve never thought about it.”

“No... not all the way...”

“Uh-huh. Well, do whatever,” she winks a second time and stands up to leave. “See ya in tomorrow night.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

“Why are your ears all red?” Natsu asks Lucy.

Lucy stiffens up. “N-Nothing important.”

“Oh... okay,” he smiles. “So whatdya wanna do next?”

“Actually, I’m kinda getting tired already.” It was after 3 am and they’d been out and on their feet for over seven hours.

Natsu sighs relief. “Me too! I just didn’t wanna ruin your fun. Shall I take you home?” He squeezes her hand with a smile.

“Yes,” she returns the squeeze, “and if you’d like you can spend the night— I-I mean since you’re tired and all! I’d just feel better than making you back track.”

“I’ll behave, I promise.”

The couple ride the train the short distance between Shibuya and Shinjuku to where Lucy’s dorm is located, cautious of the other riders on the train. Even though alcohol is not allowed on the streets during Halloween, it didn’t stop people from getting drunk and few creepy peepers kept looking at Lucy. But luckily, the train wasn’t very packed despite the holiday because the Shibuya party wasn’t over till 4am and they beat the end rush. On the way, Natsu texts his roommate out of courtesy, only to find out that Gray and Juvia were already at the apartment. Figures. Well it was a good thing he wasn’t walking into that situation! Even if nothing happened, just watching Juvia fawning all over Gray wouldn’t have been appealing. Once they arrive at the dorms, they make sure no one had followed and proceed inside.

Lucy leaves Natsu in the small living room as she changes out of her costume and into something a lot more comfortable. He was lucky the men’s costume was still semi-normal and he only had to remove the jacket and goggles for comfort, but the black hair dye will wash out in a week. She then grabs them a couple bottles of melon milk tea before joining him on the couch. Thank goodness, they didn’t have school, or he didn’t work the next day.

“That was fun,” Lucy curls against his arm with a yawn. “So, tiring though.”

“I haven’t been to Shibuya’s party in a couple of years, but it sure hasn’t changed,” Natsu chuckles. He leans his head against hers while threading their fingers together. “Totally agree on being tired. It probably wouldn’t be as bad if I hadn’t worked too.”

A companionable silence falls over the couple for a few minutes and after some time Natsu assumed Lucy had fallen asleep resting on his shoulder. He would have stayed in that position till his ass was numb if it kept her relaxed. This beauty queen deserved it and more, and he meant every word he’d told her earlier. The second chance had become a cosmic wish come true and he’d be damned to let anything ruin this between them.

“Hey Natsu?”

“Yeah Luce?”

“Do you think we could pick up from where we left off... in that photo booth?”

He swallows hard. It was one thing in the heat of the moment, but quite another to put aside his nerves now that they were so relaxed. This was a different kind of intimacy and much more intimidating to say the least. A private apartment without anything or anyone to interrupt or stop two consenting adults from going too far... and the last thing he wanted to do was something wrong! A regretted decision would destroy everything built up until that moment. But he couldn’t tell her no either!

Sensing the turmoil, Lucy sits up and turns his face towards her. Her instincts were probably on point earlier about his anxiety. “We don’t have to, if you’re not ready, but I wouldn’t mind making out with you... just a little.” She adds in the goal as a way to allay his fears. And it works. Lucy immediately feels his shoulders relax again. She gently caresses his cheek, her eyes zeroing in on his lips. “I just… like kissing you Natsu.”

“I’ll let you direct then, a-and if I start going too far, just stop me. I won’t get mad, I just...”

“Shh, I know,” she smiles, “and that what I like about you.”

Lucy closes the gap and steals his lips, starting slow, then adding pressure behind it. Her hand slides behind his head, fingers weaving into his messy hair as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. Their tongues tease and test, mouths molding together as teeth clack gently the further, they push each other’s oral boundaries. She could still taste some of the sweetness of the crapes lingering.

His own hands stay glued, one with fingers twined in her hair and the other to Lucy’s side, just below the rib cage. Natsu loses himself in her kisses, they were so soft and sweet, a little adventurous as she ran her tongue once over his canines and giggled. That brought a grin to his lips and a straight arrow through his heart. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud yet, but he loved Lucy. His heart knew it and that’s all that matters, so when the time is right, he’ll tell her, but not yet, he knew she wasn’t ready for that level.

Natsu’s so lost in the kisses he barely registers additional heat against his chest as Lucy’s hand has found its way under his shirt. It wasn’t doing more than simply resting against his pectorals, but it was much further than he’d expected her to venture tonight. Every few minutes her fingers would lightly curl against his skin or move slightly up or down, sending little shivers over his skin. As far as he was concerned, she could do anything she wanted to him as long as it was her choice.

It surprises him when Lucy starts to press forward. At first one of his hands moves to keep from falling back onto the couch, but her sudden whine triggers him to let it happen and the next thing he knows Lucy is using him as a bed. So, he wraps his left arm more firmly around her body to make sure she doesn’t fall off.

Lucy lifts her head to look Natsu in the eyes. “Is this okay?” She questions him. “Am I too heavy?”

“I don’t mind,” he smiles at her, “but are you comfortable? I could shift us over so we’re more on our sides.”

“That would be great. Just felt like snuggling more.”

He kisses her lips. “Works for me.” Natsu then adjusts their bodies carefully until Lucy’s back is resting against the couches backing with her head on his shoulder and chest. She wraps her arm around his torso and huddles close to his frame, while their legs are slightly tangled together. “Comfy?”

“Mmm hmm,” she nods her head against his chest and closes her eyes.

Natsu kisses the top of her head, bringing a smile to her face, then wraps his left arm over to rest his hand on her shoulder and cuddle her close. “Goodnight, Lucy.”

“Mmm. Goodnight, Natsu.”

Eight months ago, the only thing Natsu thought about was a career and now after that fateful train ride he knew his new goal in life had to include the blonde next to him. Lucy felt so perfect in his arms and oh, if only he could wake up like this every morning for the rest of his life, well than he’d be the luckiest man on the planet. With a smile of his own, he closes his eyes and lets the cadence of her heartbeat lull him to sleep. This was a very happy Halloween indeed!

Just to give an idea this is Shibuya on Halloween: I’m so sad I didn’t get to see it this year like I was supposed to ;-; but Natsu and Lucy got to have a little fun in my place lol.

Also a warning, the story gets much more angsty after this for several chapters 😅

[ac-liveblogs]

NEO TWEWY, Week 3

good game except for the critical flaw of no tin pin slammer, so i regretfully give it a 0/10. it’d be a 9/10 otherwise so really, this was a crucial oversight. 

anyway,

Rindo came into his own really well on the Final Day. I was worried he was going to be overshadowed by Neku, but I was worried for nothing. I had a lot of fun with him by the end of the game, and his relationship with Shoka ended up hitting a lot harder than I thought it would. I still prefer Neku’s character arc; Rindo’s is a bit more abstract for my taste, but it worked out fine in the end. 

Still unimpressed with Fret and especially Nagi, though. Fret gets off better, but Nagi’s presence was pretty underbaked. It feels like they were mostly just here for the end of the game - and while I really liked the conclusion and the way it was achieved, I really wish those two had more presence! They really were Just Kinda There. Beat at least brought Rhyme & Shiki with him, but it felt like the team was getting too big for everyone to have a decent share of characterisation, so Beat felt pretty stagnant. 

Neku on the other hand must have had a hell of a time in Shinjuku, because I don’t know how he could spend what’s implied to be a decent amount of time in Minamimoto’s presence and come out nicer for it. He didn’t roast him once. Who is this. Neku felt rather defanged compared to the previous TWEWY; I know it’s a sign of maturity and him growing into a more supportive role is great, but I find it hard to believe he could mellow out this much. There were points where he didn’t really feel like Neku because of it - some biting oneliners and he would’ve been perfect.   

Minamimoto seems to have been in this game primarily as a sequel hook, which is disappointing, but the content he did have was very good. It seems he actually did bond with the main trio + Coco (zero seven seven three four!) , which is very cute, but he definitely still has his own agenda. I was very curious about him as a team member, so I’m kinda disappointed he didn’t have more presence overall.

Whatever happened in Shinjuku remains a mystery. Neku and Minamimoto being on good terms with Coco, and decent terms with each other is like. Neku thinks Minamimoto is trying to be a better person?? Three years ago Neku found him dead under a vending machine and his immediate instinct was to steal his hat, so that’s pretty wild. I guess Shinjuku is just meant to be a noodle incident though. That’s fine; it’s funnier that way. TWEWY power levels are whack though. Neku > Minamimoto, but Minamimoto > Time Noise = Neku? Um, ok.

I really enjoyed the supporting cast in this game! I had a lot more fun with it than OG TWEWY’s in some cases. I really liked the teams and spending more time developing the Reapers, but I am a little bittersweet that it came at the cost of OG TWEWY’s partners. Well, that got a callback anyway, so I can’t complain too much. 

SE can imply Neku & Shiki are canon all they like, but I can’t read and therefore do not perceive! Ah, seriously though, their reunion was cute but this game was really uninterested in doing anything with Shiki and besides her reunion with Neku she spent all of the game off-screen. We didn’t even see her fix Tsugumi or meet Shoka, so I’m pretty disappointed about that. I was really worried Shiki and Rhyme wouldn’t get to do much and, uh. They didn’t. Rhyme was useful, but it sucks for them. At least Rhyme got a new friend!

On the Joshua front - aha, as usual, he shows up, drops a line or two, and I can write a fuckin’ thesis on it. Josh and Neku mutually referring to each other as ‘partner’ makes their conversation read very differently than on the surface-level (something the game wants to make sure you realise, given how much the Final Day harps on about the concept), but I wish we’d gotten more content. Their dynamic is really interesting and I would love to know how much I should be reading into Josh’s 10 seconds of screentime (it’s already a lot, but how much a lot). 

Josh is... simply too overpowered to use for too long. By merit of being who he is, he can literally only be an ally if he’s actively crippling himself so while I’m disappointed he didn’t do more it’s to be expected and if Minamimoto’s sequel hook does result in another game, he’ll probably be more active in TWEWY3. I’ll need to read the Secret Reports to figure out what he was up to here, since I assume he probably wasn’t just sitting on his ass doing nothing.

Well, what I really want to say is - Josh, don’t complain about not being invited anywhere when you actively ghost Neku, you hack! (i’m mean to josh bc i love him. i lovingly want to shove him in a locker. with affection <3 )

I don’t have confirmation yet, but I’m 99.99% sure Haz is Shinjuku’s Composer, which makes his harassment of Rindo very funny. Composers Just Be Like That, I guess (how flirt with boy? ah yes, be very annoying and gift him at least 3 existential crises. nailed it!) I expect we’ll probably be meeting him in Another Day in some capacity.  

Anyway, I did really like this game. It had some missteps - mostly just the characterisation in the main team - but besides that I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Time for Another Day and the Secret Reports! Tbh, it’s a really good sequel all things considered, but the original is still king in my heart. 

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Sk8 2 - 8 | Kemono Jihen 2 - 3 | Wave!! 2 - 5 | Back Arrow 3 - 6

Sk8 2

What’s with the filter over the recap?

These dance moves are cool (a derpy kind of cool)…but I’m seeing them all with the volume off (due to background noise), so I’ll have to find out what the audio is like later. Update: Rude-Alpha! Someone I actually do know!

I was worried about Truck-kun causing another Isekai Incident ™ there…phew…*wipes sweat off brow*

Is Langa…left-handed, perhaps? Or are left-handers not necessarily better with their left foot?

Langa’s mother’s so funny! It’s rare to see a mother who isn’t dead or just not talked about in anime.

Why is it that parody Sailor Moon transformations always happen with the buffest dudes possible…? That’s why it’s rare to get something like Boueibu, where it takes itself (semi-)seriously.

Lately, the urban aesthetic is cool. HypMic, Akudama, IWGP and now this…

Langa is 17. *takes notes on eligible bachelors, LOL*

“A huge family only embarrasses you.” – *nods*

I see! Although I don’t know anything about skateboarding, I can relate to him when he’s fixing a board up for Langa because I can see it’s Reki using his passion for a friend.

Oh, that’s why they call it Sk8 the Infinity…!

I keep calling it “wiping out” in my head when I watch…I’m no surfer, but I guess I’m more used to surfing lingo.

Hitori piledriver = piledriver by oneself ( I guess…?).

Sk8 3

I’ve never heard of this Takuma Nagatsuka (voice of Miya Chinen). He sounds like Kohei Amasaki…

Hmm…normally skateboarders wear protective gear, right? Couldn’t Langa have gotten some of that (now that I think of it)?

I guess this is also Reki’s pride as a board mechanic on the line here…never saw it that way until I thought about it like that.

I think I remember reading a comment once about Bakugo and Midoriya from BnHA – about how Bakugo seemed sluggish in his progress because he’d been training his Quirk from day 1, while Midoriya was trying to catch up. I think Chinen is in a similar situation.

I think what Chinen has is stability, above all others.

There’s a piece of paper in the back that has “supoort” (sic) written on it.

Chinen’s not…“smiling with his eyes”, you call it. In retail, you learn how to smile with the eyes even when it’s fake.

Kemono Jihen 2

Inari? Like the fox shrine?

So Shiki is a spider-guy and…what is Akira? I’ve heard whispers he’s a yukiotoko, but I don’t know at this point in time.

Kabane’s kinda short, LOL, even in comparison to Akira.

Shiki is definitely Bakugo, Spider Version…LOL.

Oh, BnHA came out in 2014 and Kemono Jihen in 2016 (manga).

Oh, that drip apparatus. I’ve only ever seen it in real life, I think – my dad uses one for his coffee.

Kemono Jihen 3

…hmm, I don’t think I’ve seen much set in Shinjuku. I think there’s Mayonaka Occult Koumuin, part of HypMic…and that might be it.

I laughed at “small meeting room”.

Apparently “biddy bait”, according to Urban Dictionary, is meant to mean “a lure for hot women”. I don’t particularly like Urban Dictionary, because the editors who make these definitions are clearly biased in some way or another while writing their definitions, unlike an actual dictionary.

Aw, come on! Why is it fire from the tail?! Fire from the mouth like a dragon is cooler!

Kabane’s getting ahead of himself! (LOL)

Just noticed Kon’s hoodie has a design that says FOX, but the X is inside the O.

…thank goodness for Shiki’s hand…

Akira’s been a bit of dead weight recently, so I hope he gets developed soon.

Back Arrow 3

I wonder if Shu Bi is asexual and/or aromantic…?

“…inherited the spirit of the former sheriff…” – That’s Atlee’s job…oh wait. It’s about the undies again…

This is fishy…this whole “paradise is beyond the canyon” thing.

Ooh, I get the feeling Shu Bi and Arrow will either come to blows with each other or fight on the same side…

Sk8 4

I wonder if episode 8 will look weird in the titles…? I mean, it will be “Sk8 8”…

I would think Reki’s straightforward emotions would be spiky shapes.

I knew women were something objectified by S, but…Langa, the deuteragonist? That’s new.

It just hit me: This would be so good with a dub…!

*Langa casually eats 10 burgers* - LOL.

“This has gotta be way too late!”

So now an anime character has stolen a motorcycle…LOL.

Back Arrow 4

The title of this episode seems to be “Is Today Yesterday’s Tomorrow?”, the service’s title that I’ve got in front of me is “Does Genius Come When Least Expected?”

This map reminds me of +Anima’s continent.

I seem to remember Boueibu was constructed as half an episode of idle talking, half fighting. Why do I bring this up? Because Back Arrow seems to be constructed similarly, episode-wise.

The reason I like the hot-blooded mech series and not the serious ones…is stupid things (<- I mean that affectionately) like Shu Bi pulling out a phone in a world like this.

What’s with the shot of Elsha’s butt…? I know it seems somewhat justified, considering the position her Briheight’s in…but the leery angle is a bit annoying.

…I keep thinking Bit will get a Briheight one day and he’ll be like Zenitsu – powerful only when he doesn’t know it.

Shin Fusui, right? “Ren Sin” kinda makes sense, given we didn’t know any better, but so does “Ren Shin”…Sin as a first name though…? Anyways, it’s Shin Fusui, Kei Suiitsu, Nen Kasei and Ko Chisen. Their names match their elements.

I never realised how skimpy Kei’s outfit was until she was without her Briheight on the ground…eesh, women and their skimpy outfits in this universe…

Wave!! 2

I’m going to differentiate this anime from the other Wave (Wave, Listen to Me) with 2 exclamation marks…also, I’m not able to mark this episode down until 4 episodes have gone, or until AniList makes a TV entry for this. Update: AniList did eventually make an entry for the TV version (i.e. the version I'm working off) of this anime.

Nalu was playing an invisible ukulele even in the bath, LOL.

I noticed Masaki keeps his corgi between his legs so that the dog doesn’t run away. That’s probably only a thing dog owners do, because I don’t think anyone inexperienced with pets would know if they could do such a thing.

Why do I get the feeling the symbol on one of Masaki’s shoulders is (meant to be) Rip Curl…?

I read some of the 4koma for this series (found on the website) and…Sho’s so cute, envying this ‘warm family”. Nalu still has his ukulele, even at the dining table, LOL.

LOL, random rainbow. Every time I read subs about Masaki extolling surfing, I’m reminded of what I call “translator’s high”. It’s the feeling of working under deadlines and being inspired to churn out a high-quality release.

…well, this is a surfing anime. I should have known this would talk about places that get lots of hot weather and big waves (like Australia) because Joel Parkinson is from Tweed Heads, Sydney.

Who’s Jojo Pardinen?

Why does Masaki call Tanaka “Murphy”?

Wave!! 3

Oh, so that man is Masaki’s dad…Right.

The real spirit of characters is shown after they’re defeated…that’s my thoughts, anyway.

I know what a repechage is…in fact, I learnt about that through the FP and M manga.

Oh! It’s “Nalu”, but written “Naru”.

Wave!! 4

Is there a 3rd place in these competitions?

Wait, so the guy in the pink shirt is Masaki’s dad, but then the Hawaiian shirt dude owns the shop. Am I right on this now…?

There is a magical girl called Sally, IIRC, and the description does match.

LOL, I like how the teacher is so indecisive.

Back Arrow 5

Shu Bi’s so pretty…I had my eyes on him from the beginning and now that’s paying me back tenfold.

I wonder if Shu will ever get a Briheight…? (I wanna see it!)

Back Arrow 6

Pretty boy farms!!! It sounds like abuse in a sense, but it also sounds like a dream (?!)

Bit reminds me of Sousuke (Classicaloid).

Oh, so the funky gold hat-thing with the purple ribbon is what the head diviner wears.

LOL wut…his name is “Bruh”? *tries to hide stupid smirk on face*

Wait, if it’s a pretty boy farm, how do you produce new pretty boys without women…? *scratches head*

Question: What is Gote’s conviction?

Wave!! 5

Kadomatsu (the bamboo), huh? Must be New Year’s. Likewise, the bush warbler (uguisu) means it’s spring.

Sk8 5

Milk, straight from the carton…*sigh* Boys… Update: (This is referring to how guys are typically shown chugging straight from the carton. As you can tell from the comment, I don't particularly like it.)

I like how suddenly, all the barriers come down for these guys, even though Kaoru said at one point they shouldn’t be coming down.

Battle of Ganryujima.

Sk8 6

…this woman Reki has the hots for is going to be a dude…that’s normally how this joke works.

Oh well, that was also a funny moment.

“Dangerous stuff is forbidden.”

Hiromi in a swimsuit is…vaguely disturbing.

Kamata? Y’mean, she has the word for “scythe” in her name and she’s a “mantis woman”? Makes sense.

Even on their day off, the Sk8 crew are fun to be with.

Sk8 7

Whoa! Straight to the OP!

…I’m suddenly scared. What if Langa’s mother gets put in danger…? (Like in Kanon.)

Sk8 8

I want Langa to punch Adam. In the face. Now!

…is Snake…Ainosuke’s butler? I can sort of guess from the hair…and the matching theme [of Adam, Eve and the snake in paradise]…

It is the butler!

[sachigram]

Uprooted: Part 7 of the Love in Bloom series

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Shizuo has known from the beginning that it's not the best idea, but like fuck he's going to admit it to Izaya.

The day before Shizuo left, there weren't many words shared between them. Izaya would barely look at him, was clearly pouting. He sat at his computer all night and made Shizuo go to bed alone, even when Shizuo tried to forcefully drag him, all Izaya had said was, “I have work to do. Go to bed, you've got a big day tomorrow.” Shizuo hadn't slept at all. He was dreading leaving and he only wanted to go downstairs and drape himself over Izaya, curl at Izaya's feet if he had to, just to be in close proximity. He didn't feel right without Izaya by his side, and it's only amplified more and more since then.

Shiki called him, offering him a small job as a bodyguard. It was to be a short trip into Nagoya, just a few days. One of Shiki's personal guards was injured in a previous job, and while Shiki didn't expect anything to happen, he still liked the idea of Shizuo accompanying him to ensure it.

“You're infamous,” Shiki had said through the phone. Shizuo wondered if Shiki waited to call until he thought Izaya wouldn't be around. It was excellent timing. Izaya had been out getting a manicure with Ruri, the two of them a pair of odd friends. The phone rang almost as soon as Izaya walked out.

“Think of it like this, an offer to make your own money without Izaya-san's guidance. You don't want him thinking you're a personal toy of his, do you?” Shiki had asked, and Shizuo wasn't worried about Izaya thinking of him as anything of the sort, but he did like the idea of making some extra money. He told Shiki he had to think about it. Izaya wasn't pleased.

“You work for me,” Izaya had said upon returning. He looked angry, but his voice was level. “What am I, some stair-step to get to Shiki-san?”

“Of course not,” Shizuo said. “I just thought— I don't know. It's kind of cool he asked me, is all.”

“You're a walking one-man army. Of course he asked you,” Izaya said, and then he shrugged, his face going expressionless, Shizuo's least favorite of Izaya's various masks. “Do what you want. It's not as if I need you here.”

Even now, Shizuo doesn't know why that rattled him so much. He had been planning on telling Shiki he was flattered, but not interested. After Izaya's words, Shizuo accepted, and next thing he knew, he was flying first class into Chubu Centrair International Airport along with Shiki and two other men.

The first thing Shizuo did upon arriving to his hotel room was call Izaya. He could tell Izaya was pissed that Shizuo actually left. Izaya let the phone ring a few times before answering, and he was still speaking in that same bored tone.

“I've been thinking, since this trip clearly stemmed from some desire to get away from me—“

“It's not,” Shizuo interrupted. “It's just a job, Izaya. I've always done odd jobs.”

“Right, right. Either way, feel free not to check in with me. I've got my own work to do. I won't be around as much to answer your calls,” Izaya said, and Shizuo hated that response so much that he bent and cracked the counter in his bathroom.

“What work?” Shizuo asked. He knew Izaya was tracking some killer and had been a while, but from Shizuo's understanding, it was to be very hands-off, not to be dealt with until Shiki returned.

“Work,” Izaya said, and then he laughed wickedly. “You're not working with me right now, so you're not privy to my information, especially not over the phone.”

“Izaya— Fuck, don't be like this. It's just for a few days. Are you seriously going to ignore me the entire time I'm here?”

There was a pause, the rustling of fabric. Shizuo pictured Izaya lying on their bed, feet waving in the air behind him. If Shizuo was there, he'd be fitting himself on top of Izaya's back, pressing him into the mattress and making it harder for Izaya to concentrate on his call.

“It's just an odd job,” Izaya said at last, parroting Shizuo's words back to him. “You wanted to miss me. So miss me.” Izaya hung up then, and Shizuo destroyed the bathroom counter entirely. He felt terrible about it afterwards, but Shiki was oddly understanding, even invited Shizuo out to some restaurant with himself and the two other men. Shizuo accepted, thinking that staying in the room would only make him angrier, especially if Izaya was truly going to ignore all his texts.

Presently, Shizuo is picking at some pasta while Shiki converses with the others about business. Shizuo isn't very interested in the conversation, never really wanted to get involved in these Yakuza politics. He wouldn't even be friendly with these people if not for Izaya. Izaya, who isn't doing anything, but still won't text Shizuo anyway.

“Is the food not to your liking, Shizuo-san?” Shiki asks, and Shizuo looks up at him. He thinks to himself that he should have ordered wine. Everyone else did, but Shizuo wasn't familiar with any of the brands, and he doesn't like wine much aside from sake, but the prices are all outrageous. Shizuo is paid well by Izaya, but he's not willing to pay prices like these. Already, he wants to be home.

“It's fine,” Shizuo says shortly. The man to Shiki's right, a short, fat, balding man named Eiji, laughs.

“You've been glancing at your phone all day,” Eiji says, and Shizuo tenses, still in a very bad mood.

“Ah,” Shiki says, and then he sips his wine. “I hope I haven't caused an argument.”

“It's fine,” Shizuo says again. The big man seated next to Shizuo doesn't say anything. He's likely here for the same reason Shizuo is, added muscle. His name is Takumi or Takahiro or something. Shizuo doesn't care to know.

“Woman troubles?” Eiji asks, and Shizuo snaps his fork in half.

“Eiji-san, I'll ask you not to mention or ask anything relating to Shizuo-san personal life,” Shiki says smoothly. “If he launches you across this restaurant, I'd rather not have to pay for the damages.”

“Alright, alright,” Eiji says, still chuckling. “I don't mean to pry. I am married though, for what it's worth.” He lifts his left hand, showing the ring. “I know how to make a woman forgive you.”

“Izaya isn't a woman,” Shizuo says tightly. He digs his fingers into his thigh, tries to focus on that pain and not his anger. It's been so long since he was this short-tempered. Izaya is unusually adept at calming Shizuo down, could easily defuse this situation, but Shizuo is on his own here, and he's beginning to remember why being alone always causes the worst of his breakdowns.

“That— The informant?” Eiji looks over at Shiki, a perplexed expression on his face. “The pretty one?”

Shizuo stands abruptly, almost toppling the table over with him. He leans over it, snarling in the fat man's face.

“Shut the fuck up about him!” Shizuo snaps. The restaurant is very quiet, all eyes on them. “Another word, and you'll be the meat in tomorrow's bolognese!”

Shiki merely looks up at him, unfazed, but Eiji is trembling, with fear or rage, Shizuo doesn't care to know. He digs around in his wallet, but Shiki shakes his head.

“You won't be paying for anything since you're here as my guest. Meet me in the lobby tomorrow morning at seven.”

Shizuo nods, an angry jerk of his head, and then he's storming out, almost knocking over a busboy as he goes. He's so mad, so mad, and he wants Izaya, but Izaya is hours away, probably getting himself into something terrible, all because he's a horrible fucking person. Shizuo hates him so much, and hates it even more that he loves Izaya more than he hates him.

It's not a long walk back to the hotel. Shizuo doesn't want to call a cab, and it's a clear night anyway. He lights a cigarette as he walks, takes his phone out. No new messages. Huffing, he calls Izaya, and the sound of Izaya's voicemail only makes him angrier. He ends up calling Tom, who is also good at calming Shizuo down.

“Shizuo! Hey, what's up?” Tom asks, and Shizuo exhales, glad to hear Tom's voice. He should call Tom more often. They've been friends a long time, and Tom has always been very level-headed, something Shizuo envies and admires. Shizuo thinks Izaya would probably be considered level-headed too if he wasn't so fucking insane.

Shizuo talks about the trip, and the fight with Izaya, if they're even fighting. He doesn't know for sure, since Izaya has a habit of shutting him out once upset. Tom makes a choked sort of noise, and then he's laughing in the phone.

“Sorry, that made me choke on my beer,” Tom says, and then he laughs again. “Of course he's fighting with you. Is this new? I would have thought the two of you fought all the time.”

“No, not— I mean, we argue, but there isn't much fighting,” Shizuo says, frowning.

“Surreal! You were always shooting off after him no matter what we were doing. I thought it was understandable, though, since he was always meddling in your life, and you didn't have to hold back with him.”

“You were more understanding than anyone else,” Shizuo says. He tosses his cigarette butt in the trash and lights another, still a little ways from the hotel.

“I never would have thought Izaya-san was the clingy type,” Tom says.

“Clingy?”

“Yeah, but I guess it fits. The guy wouldn't rest unless you were chasing after him. He's, uh. Well. He's crazy, you know? Like, no one in their right mind would coerce you into a fight, but he did it daily.” Tom pauses. “Sorry, I'm not trying to make you mad. I hope I'm not. As long as you're happy with him, I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Shizuo says. Tom has more dating experience than him, and even if Shizuo's relationship with Izaya is...unconventional, he thinks if anyone would have decent advice, it would be Tom. “So, you think Izaya is...clingy.”

“Maybe clingy isn't the right term. I don't know, maybe it's more like...attention-starved?”

“How is he starved for attention and ignoring me? That doesn't make sense,” Shizuo says, and Tom laughs again.

“He's angry you left without him. Maybe he wanted you to invite him along.”

Shizuo ponders this. It wasn't his invitation to extend, and Izaya is closer to Shiki than Shizuo is. If Izaya really wanted to come along, he could have. It's not like this is a trip for pleasure.

He hangs up with Tom a little while later, and then he makes his way into his hotel room, which had to be changed after he destroyed the counter and sink. He sees a handyman watching him crossly as he crosses through the lobby to the elevators, but it's not like Shizuo can blame the guy.

Shizuo doesn't sleep worth a shit. The bed isn't right, isn't soft like Izaya's, doesn't smell like Izaya. Shizuo doesn't know when he started to associate Izaya's scent with home and comfort, but without Izaya there to grab onto, Shizuo can't relax. He texts Izaya once around three in the morning.

I cant sleep.

Izaya doesn't respond.

Grumbling, Shizuo rolls out of bed and opens his luggage, his heart clenching when he sees the neat little rows of items Izaya packed for him. Izaya wasn't talking much at the time, but he did refuse to let Shizuo pack his own things. He rolled his eyes and muttered something about looking professional, and then he shooed Shizuo away with a flick of his wrist.

Inside the case are crisp, button downs, suit pants, and jackets. They're all folded neatly, and next to them are rows of socks, underwear, expensive cologne Izaya bought for him a few weeks back. There's a little piece of paper tucked into the pocket of one of the jackets, and Shizuo unfolds it, recognizing Izaya's pristine penmanship.

I'm steadily replacing your wardrobe. No more bartender uniforms, you idiot, you've been a bodyguard for years.

Izaya even signed it, as if Shizuo would ever question who wrote it. He finds himself fingering the characters of Izaya's name wistfully, not even caring about whatever fate is befalling his usual clothes in his absence. He slips the note in his pocket after he's dressed, keeps it as a reminder of what he's looking forward to going home to: an angry, irritable Izaya, who lovingly packed Shizuo's case and topped it off with an insulting note.

Shizuo goes down to the lobby a little earlier than Shiki asked. There's a cheap breakfast special for guests, as well as complimentary snacks. Shizuo decides to pay so he can sit and enjoy some time to himself before a long day of pandering to some Yakuza assholes. According to Shiki, this is a business trip, as well as a peacemaking operation. The Awakusu is attempting to absorb a smaller group rather than annihilate them, some of their members the very same men that attacked and broke Izaya's ribs that day when the meeting “went south.” Shizuo doesn't have high hopes about it going well. If anything, it'll be over quicker if Shizuo has to go on the offensive. He's definitely got some pent up rage to work through.

He's eating bacon, chewing angrily when his phone buzzes. He picks it up, deflating when he sees it's not Izaya. It's Celty, and he brightens again at the prospect of chatting with her.

Long time, no see! Celty sent. Shizuo wipes bacon grease off his hands before responding.

Yo.

Wanna meet up? Shinra is busy all day and I don't have any jobs. I'm bored!

I can't. I'm out of town. Shizuo sends.

Oh! Did you and Izaya take a trip? Where did you go? I want to take Shinra on a trip soon too. Maybe a hot spring! Celty replies. Shizuo doesn't mind the thought of taking Izaya to a hot spring. Izaya looks amazing all the time, but even more so when he's wet.

Not exactly. I went on a trip with that Shiki guy.

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?!!?!?!?

Shizuo snorts before responding. I know. It's a bodyguard job and he's paying out the ass. Izaya is pissed at me.

I'm just shocked! It's not like you. I thought you hated shady Yakuza stuff? Celty sends.

I do and I know. It was just a lot of money and then Izaya made me mad about it so I went. Shizuo sends it, and then he adds, He's not talking to me now.

Have you told him you miss him?

No. I won't until he talks to me. Shizuo realizes how stubborn that sounds, but Izaya is equally, if not more stubborn. They'll be at an impasse until Shizuo returns, most likely.

I know you very well. And Izaya regrettably well. You probably hurt his feelings, if he has any. Celty replies. I think he does, about you at least.

Yeah but he's a flea bastard. Will you do me a favor and keep an eye on him?

You think he's up to something? Celty asks.

Yes. He's mad at me and fuming so who knows what he's up to. Just don't let him get hurt please. Shizuo sends it, and then goes back to eating his breakfast. It's almost time to meet Shiki. It takes Celty a few minutes to reply.

I've enlisted Shinra. We'll barge in on him before you get back!

Shizuo smiles and puts his phone in his pocket. He pays the waitress when she comes by, and then he goes into the lobby, arriving right before the elevator doors open to reveal Shiki and the Takeuchi muscly guy.

“Shizuo-san, I hope you weren't waiting long,” Shiki says pleasantly.

“Nah. So, uh. What's on the agenda?” Shizuo asks.

“Not much, I'm afraid,” Shiki says, walking, and Shizuo follows after him. “Our meeting isn't until tomorrow evening. Today, I'm inviting a few of my contacts from within to lunch. I'm afraid it'll be dull for you.”

“Dull is okay,” Shizuo says.

“Is it? But your usual life is so exciting.” A car is waiting outside, and Shizuo gets in after Shiki, Takeshi afterwards. Shiki gives the driver an address, and they're off.

It is dull. Shizuo never knew how many politics were involved in these meetings, not to mention the air of condescension that surrounds them all. There are two guys from the other organization, both of them younger than Shiki but older than Shizuo. Shizuo doesn't bother remembering their names, has enough to think about as it is. Besides, his job is to protect Shiki. It's not as if anyone will be asking his opinion or input.

“New face here,” one of the guys says. He's got wisps of white in his hair and big, bushy eyebrows. “Younger than you usually employ.”

They're in a nice looking office, though not as swanky as Shizuo is used to. Shortly after Shizuo moved in with Izaya, Izaya stopped meeting clients at his home, opted to instead rent out an office space. Namie is there frequently, but Shizuo has still managed to fuck Izaya over most of the surfaces there. Even thinking about it makes his dick twitch with interest, and Shizuo is quickly trying to think about other things.

“This is Heiwajima Shizuo,” Shiki says, and both of the other men go rigid. “He's been working with us, so he graciously accompanied me.”

“Hardly fair, is it?” Speckled Beard asks. “You've got the strongest man in the world on your side.”

“It's only unfair if you're planning on fighting me,” Shiki says pleasantly, and Shizuo goes back to zoning out after the conversation drifts away from himself.

He's close to nodding off by the time Shiki stands to leave. They're going out to lunch with the men. Shizuo isn't very hungry, but he could definitely use more coffee, not to mention a smoke break. The driver from before is waiting outside. The other men have their own transport.

“I'd like to thank you both for your patience,” Shiki says once they're inside the car. “If it were up to me, we wouldn't be on this trip. I get the feeling their compliance isn't something we can count on.”

“You think they'll try something?” Taka-something asks. Shiki sighs.

“If they do, it's practically suicide. None of them are very bright, so I'm not ruling it out.” Shiki tilts his head a bit, and Shizuo knows Shiki is observing him in the mirror. “Izaya-san said this was a pointless trip. He's rarely wrong.”

“You asked Izaya?” Shizuo asks.

“He did some digging for me. Most of these guys are younger. Too eager. The only power on their side is money. I find it to be in poor taste, but violence isn't my first choice. I'd rather them listen to reason.” Shiki sighs again. “I brought both of you because I believe reason might be out the window. I'm also still angry about their infiltration and attack on our previous meeting, as I'm sure you are, Shizuo-san.”

Shizuo grunts. It took weeks for Izaya to move regularly again. He didn't stop going out, not even when Shizuo nagged him, but he wasn't fast for quite a while. Shizuo was only glad to be with Izaya and make sure he didn't get into anything he couldn't get himself out of. The thought makes his stomach sour, and he's glad Celty promised to check in on Izaya.

They get kishimen noodles for lunch, a must-have in Nagoya. They're delicious, and Shizuo wants to enjoy them, but he's not very hungry, hasn't been since arriving. It's just easier to focus on food than the boring conversation between the others, especially if it's really as pointless as Shiki believes.

“You can smoke, if you like,” Shiki tells Shizuo, probably noticing how antsy Shizuo is getting. “Takahashi-san is here.”

Takahashi. Okay, so Shizuo was close. He'll try to remember the guy's name, but it's not like Takahashi has been speaking or doing much thus far. Shizuo nods and stands, excusing himself to stand outside the restaurant and light up a cigarette. He checks his phone again, growls when there's nothing new.

Fucking Izaya. Shizuo hates how Izaya being quiet somehow unnerves him more than if Izaya was blowing up Shizuo's phone with notifications. It's not like Izaya to be this silent, and Shizuo knows this is exactly what Izaya wants to accomplish, making Shizuo worry like this.

Angrily, Shizuo calls Izaya again. There's no answer, of fucking course, but even the sound of Izaya's voicemail recording makes Shizuo's stomach lift a bit before it resumes feeling full of lead. It really is pathetic how used to Izaya's presence Shizuo is, how used to Izaya Shizuo has always been, even before they started dating or whatever the hell they're calling it. Shizuo considers leaving Izaya a voicemail and then stubbornly decides Izaya doesn't deserve to hear his voice.

After the lunch is over with, the other men leave, and Shiki looks weary. He glances over at Shizuo.

“Takahashi-san and I are going to drink some bourbon,” Shiki says. “Would you like to join us?”

“Uh,” Shizuo says. He was kind of looking forward to napping, but having a few drinks first seems like it couldn't hurt anything. “Yeah, sure.”

They wind up at a nice, dimly lit bar. It reminds Shizuo of the bar he worked at for a while before Izaya got him fired. Shizuo really enjoyed it there. It was quiet, the sort of place people brought their coworkers for meetings. Shizuo wonders if that's what this is, and he doesn't like the idea of being a coworker to the Yakuza.

Shizuo finds himself on a cushy couch, Takahashi on his left. Shiki sits near them in an armchair, his ankle folded over his knee as he leans back. He holds out a cigar, and an employee comes to cut it for him, as well as light it.

“Would you like one, Shizuo-san? Takahashi-san?” Shiki asks.

“Sure,” Shizuo says. He's only smoked a cigar once or twice in his life, but this seems like the kind of place that would have the best ones.

“I'm fine, thanks,” Takahashi says while the woman cuts and lights Shizuo's cigar. Shizuo feels like he's stepped into someone else's life. He pictures Izaya here, next to him, probably chatting animatedly about the dangers of smoking. He's been particularly fond of sending Shizuo pictures of black lungs lately, especially while they're eating. Shizuo snorts softly, missing it. Missing Izaya.

Christ, it's only been a day.

“Still no word from Izaya-san?” Shiki asks. Shizuo considers how odd it is for a man like Shiki to ask personal questions, but then, Shiki does have reason to ask how Izaya is. Not to mention he probably needs a distraction from the fruitless endeavor that is this trip.

“No,” Shizuo says.

“Mm. Unusual, for him. I'd tell you to enjoy the silence. Knowing Izaya-san, it won't last,” Shiki says.

“You put up with a lot from him,” Shizuo mutters, sipping at his bourbon. It's expensive, smooth. It takes a lot for Shizuo to get drunk, but he wouldn't mind sipping at this for hours.

“He's a special case,” Shiki says. “A former associate of mine was very attached to Izaya-san. Still is, actually. They talk rather frequently.” Shiki must notice the look on Shizuo's face, because he's smirking and continuing without prompt. “Kine-san. I'm sure you've met him. A bald man who used to pick Izaya-san up from your school.”

“That guy?” Shizuo asks, remembering. “I thought he was some pervert. He used to watch us fight.”

“He was the one who introduced Izaya-san to us. I'm sure Izaya-san has mentioned his lack of...adult supervision. Kine-san meant to make this up to him.”

“Some job he did,” Shizuo says, and to his surprise, Shiki barks out a laugh.

“Some job anyone can do for someone like Izaya-san,” Shiki says.

“What happened to that other guy who was here yesterday? Eishi-san?” Shizuo asks, remembering the fat man who pissed him off.

“Eiji-san,” Shiki corrects. “He'll be going with us tomorrow evening, but I told him to stay behind today. He has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth.”

“Oh. Seems like a bad idea to bring him along, if that's the case.”

“He's disarming. People aren't threatened by him.”

Shizuo leans back then, puffs at his cigar while the others converse. Shiki is talking to Takahashi about their wives, and Shizuo finds it funny how mundane the atmosphere is, but then again, Shiki might have gotten all the partying and debauchery out of his system in younger years. Or maybe he's being calm on this trip because he knows how Shizuo is, and doesn't want to set him off.

By the time Shizuo is back in his room, he's tipsy and exhausted. He collapses into bed, fully dressed, and grunts as he kicks his shoes off. He's half-asleep already, and he finds himself reaching next to him for Izaya, his eyes opening when he remembers Izaya isn't there.

“Fuck,” he mutters, already feeling much more awake than before, and then furious all over again, because this is stupid, and he's so fucking tired.

He doesn't sleep well, and when he does fall into unconsciousness, it's fitful, dreams and images of Izaya strewing together until Shizuo is waking with a shout, covered in sweat, unable to recall anything about the dream aside from Izaya being in danger.

It's four in the morning. Shizuo doesn't care. He grabs for his phone, calls Izaya.

“What?” Izaya asks when he picks up, and Shizuo sits up, wasn't expecting Izaya to actually answer. “Shizu-chan?”

“Why— You sound so awake,” Shizuo says, holding the phone like it's a life jacket and the hotel room is the open ocean. It feels that way, suddenly, like Shizuo might be drowning.

“I'm not sleeping. I'm working.”

“Working on what?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Why are you awake? You sound out of it.”

“I don't know. I just— I had a dream, I guess. It feels shitty, Izaya, without you here.”

“You can't go without sleeping while on a mission with Shiki-san,” Izaya says, ignoring what Shizuo is saying. “You'll need to be on your toes in case things go badly, which they will. These guys aren't smart enough to join the Awakusu. I doubt Shiki-san would even allow it.”

“Then why am I here?” He pauses. “Why didn't you come?” Shizuo asks, feeling pathetic. Hearing Izaya isn't the same through the phone, just reminds Shizuo how far apart they currently are.

“Shiki-san is an excellent negotiator. They sent him to keep the peace, and they sent you along for insurance the peace is kept. I didn't go because I have my own things to do, and whether or not the Awakusu tames some outskirt group doesn't concern me,” Izaya says. “I don't see why it concerns you, either.”

“It doesn't. I wasn't thinking, okay? You pissed me off, and then I just...” Shizuo runs his hand through his hair, tugs. He's shit at talking about stuff like this, especially to Izaya, who always knows what to say. Shizuo does best when he can see Izaya in person and stop Izaya from running off, but nothing is stopping Izaya from hanging up the phone. “I don't want to be here anymore. I miss you,” Shizuo says at last, opting for honesty.

There's a pause and then shuffling on the other end of the phone. It doesn't sound like Izaya is being still.

“Poor Shizu-chan. You made a rash decision and now you're paying for it. Can you even sleep without me there?” Izaya asks. He sounds biting and cruel, unlike himself. Shizuo frowns.

“No, I can't. Izaya, you could've asked me not to go. If you wanted me to stay, you could've said so.”

“It's not my job to tell you what you want to do. Why would it matter what I wanted?”

“It matters!” Shizuo snaps. He sighs and listens to Izaya's breaths on the other end of the phone. “It matters,” he repeats, softer. “I care what you want.”

“It's too late now, isn't it?” Izaya asks, and his voice is suddenly sad, sadder than Shizuo's ever heard it. “You're gone, and I'm all by myself.”

“What are you— Izaya, where are you?” Shizuo asks, realizing suddenly that he hears cars passing by on Izaya's side of the conversation.

“I made a mistake, Shizu-chan. I think I really fucked up.”

“Okay, you what? Izaya?” There's the sound of running footsteps, fabric rustling, more cars. Shizuo can hear men shouting in the distance, and then a deafening bang rings out, makes Shizuo drop his phone in shock. He quickly scrambles to pick it back up. “Izaya?!”

“Why'd you...leave me, Shizu...?” Izaya asks, and then the line goes dead. Shizuo shouts into the phone and watches with horror as the hotel room fills with water from every direction, and before Shizuo can say anything else, it's over his head, filling his lungs—

He wakes with a wordless cry, his body covered with sweat. The room is soft with morning light, and when he reaches for his phone, he sees no new notifications from Izaya. A dream, of course it was a dream. Izaya isn't quite that dramatic in reality, though his silence speaks volumes on its own. Shizuo groans and rubs his face, thumbs through his phone to see what he missed while sleeping.

Kasuka called the night before, not long after Shizuo passed out. Celty sent a quick message saying she'll pop in on Izaya tonight whether he likes it or not. Shizuo is already looking forward to how irritated Izaya will be about that, knows he can probably expect an angry call or text from Izaya by nightfall.

Knowing he won't be able to get back to sleep, Shizuo gets up and showers to wash off the sweat. He's always been a hot sleeper, so he's no stranger to waking up sweaty, though it's usually not this bad. It's almost like his body is in a withdrawal of some kind, punishing him for being away from Izaya. Shizuo snorts at the thought. Izaya would be absolutely thrilled if he knew what Shizuo is thinking about.

“You're addicted to me? How sweet. I guess you'd better do as I say then?” Izaya would say, his eyes bright and his grin sharp. Shizuo would be helpless to do anything other than kiss the glint of Izaya's teeth, and then Izaya would make that soft, barely audible little noise he makes every time Shizuo kisses him. Shizuo's hand wanders to his dick while the thoughts continue, and when he comes, he pictures Izaya beneath him, eagerly lapping it up.

“Fuck,” Shizuo mutters, his breathing returning to normal as visions of Izaya fade. When did Shizuo become so used to having someone else around? He used to think he needed people, but not be a part of them. He preferred being on the outskirts, at a safe distance where someone was less likely to piss him off or get hurt when Shizuo was inevitably pissed off. Somehow Izaya, parasite that he is, has gotten deep underneath Shizuo's skin, burrowed there and made himself at home.

“Maybe a flea isn't the right term,” Shizuo says to himself as he uses a washrag to rub shitty hotel soap on his skin. “More like a tapeworm. An amoeba.” He wonders which would piss Izaya off more.

When he's clean, he gets out and towels off, dressing in the clothes Izaya packed for him. Shizuo is buttoning the jacket of his suit when he decides to call Kasuka back, not liking the way he looks like a stranger in the mirror.

“Good morning, brother. You're up early,” Kasuka says when he picks up. Shizuo smiles.

“Yeah, I'm on a job. Also, I slept like shit. What's up?”

“A job? What kind of job?” Kasuka asks. Shizuo hates to tell the truth about this, but he won't lie to his brother.

“I'm with Izaya's boss as a bodyguard. It shouldn't take more than another day,” Shizuo says.

“That's...surprising. Izaya-san isn't with you? I thought Ruri mentioned having lunch with him later,” Kasuka says.

“Those two are spending a lot of time together,” Shizuo grumbles. He doesn't hate the idea of them getting along, and he isn't jealous because he knows nothing would ever happen between Izaya and Ruri. He just wants to be there with them, and not here in this stuffy suit he hates. “No, Izaya isn't with me.”

“Even more surprising,” Kasuka says. “I called to see if you wanted to meet up since Ruri is busy, but I'll find something else to do. I'm not used to having free time like this.”

“Still no callback, huh?” Shizuo asks.

“Oh, they called. My agent is negotiating a contract, so I'm left to wait. Either way, Ruri says I'm not invited to lunch because the two of them are going to gossip, and according to her, I'm no fun because I don't participate.”

Shizuo snorts. “They would gossip.”

“It's good for Ruri, though. She rarely gets to indulge in things, and she has fun with Izaya-san. Isn't it funny how things turned out?” Kasuka asks, and his voice doesn't change, but Shizuo can hear the happiness. Shizuo smiles, picturing Izaya and Ruri over lunch, tipping their champagne glasses together and gossiping and giggling. Maybe it's good for Izaya, too, who doesn't have many people in his life aside from those who use him for his knowledge and resources.

“Yeah,” Shizuo says, and he wants so badly to be home. He's never gotten homesick like this before in the few instances where he traveled, but then again, he didn't have things to miss. Kasuka rarely has breaks like this, and Shizuo used to hate Izaya. Or at least, he thought he hated Izaya.

“Call me when you're home. Safe travels,” Kasuka says.

“Yeah, I will. See you soon,” Shizuo says, and he ends the call. The silence he's left with is deafening, and he hurries to meet Shiki and the others before he can think too much about it.

***

More meetings, more rubbing elbows. At least Shiki seems as annoyed with the others as Shizuo is, and Shizuo thinks of what Izaya said in his dream, something about Shiki never allowing these guys to join. Shizuo wonders if there's any truth in that, if his subconscious is trying to tell him something. But then what would the point of this trip even be? Is there a point at all?

They wind up leaving a while after lunch, the meeting they were supposed to have with the ones in charge pushed back to the following evening. Shizuo grinds his teeth in the car back to the hotel. It means another day here, and likely another sleepless night. He already feels stretched too thin, his hands itching with the need to do...something. He can't place the feeling, and he chalks it up to needing a cigarette.

He declines the offer to join Shiki and the others for a drink. Shizuo is exhausted, and he wants to get out of the suit, maybe order room service and chat with Izaya before bed. If Izaya would just talk to him for a while, Shizuo thinks maybe he'd be able to sleep. He just has a bad feeling that Izaya is getting into something and putting himself in danger. Shizuo would never forgive himself if something happened to Izaya while Shizuo was gone, and Izaya knows that, is definitely vindictive enough to get into trouble for the hell of it and make Shizuo worry.

He changes into his sweatpants and a T-shirt before dialing room service. He orders a burger and a beer, cringes at the prices. Shiki told him to charge to the room, so all he'll have to do is sign for it when it arrives. He sits back on the bed and jumps when his phone rings.

It's Shinra.

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra greets. “We went to check on Izaya-kun for you, since you're so wracked with worry.”

“Yeah? And how is he?” Shizuo asks, rubbing his temple. Shinra gives him a headache even on a good day, and Shizuo feels far from fine.

“I have no idea! He wasn't there.”

“Wasn't there?” Shizuo asks. “Did you call him?”

“Of course I— Wait, have you called him? Is he not answering you? That's hilarious. You must've really made him mad if he's stopped talking! Hahaha!” Shizuo growls, and then there's the sound of a fist making impact, and of Shinra crying out in pain. “Celty...! Owwww, okay, okay.”

“Thanks, Celty,” Shizuo calls through the phone, hoping she hears.

“See if I do you any more favors,” Shinra says.

“Did Izaya answer when you called?” Shizuo asks, ignoring Shinra's whining.

“Ah. Yes, but only to tell me to fuck off. He said to tell you he doesn't need monitoring, and he'll see you when you get home. Then he hung up on me.”

“Fucking flea,” Shizuo hisses, mostly to himself. Shinra hums in agreement.

“Sorry, Shizuo-kun! I'm sure he just went out to investigate the latest murder,” Shinra says, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

“There's been another one?” Shizuo asks.

“Yeah, it's all over the news. I thought Izaya-kun mentioned he was looking into it, right? He might be at the crime scene or something, talking to the girl's contacts.” Shinra sounds very unbothered by it all, but Shizuo feels like he needs to go home immediately, like Izaya is face to face with whoever the hell is raping and murdering women in the city.

“Fuck,” Shizuo says, closing his eyes.

“He'll be fine,” Shinra says dismissively. “Anyway, we're going home now! I'll see you when you return!” He hangs up before Shizuo can say anything else, and Shizuo is left with the silence of the room until his phone dings with a message.

Are you okay? It's from Celty.

I shouldn't have come on this stupid trip Shizuo sends in reply.

It's...unusual for you, but you have a habit of doing strange things when you're angry, especially if Izaya is the one making you angry. You'll be home soon and then you can put it behind you! Celty replies. Shizuo tries to think of what to say back and finds he can't. He can't prove anything is unusual or wrong, but he has a feeling, and feelings are really all he has to go by where Izaya is concerned.

His food arrives, and Shizuo thanks the kid that brings it. He opens the beer and sips at it, finding it odd that he's been surrounded by food this entire trip, but somehow he picks at it every time and never feels satisfied. It's the same with the overpriced burger, and Shizuo finds himself wishing he hadn't ordered in. At least if he went out with the others, he wouldn't be alone with his thoughts.

Mindlessly, he turns on the TV and flicks through the channels until he settles on a news report that's talking about the latest murder victim. It's being filmed live where the body was discovered earlier. Shizuo recognizes the area; it's located in front of a small alley behind a dive bar, one Shizuo used to pass by pretty frequently before moving to Shinjuku. Shizuo watches the people in the background and wonders if Izaya is there somewhere off-screen, poking around and making a menace of himself. Shizuo mentioned before that he didn't understand why Shiki would ask Izaya to look into this when the police were already involved, but Izaya only laughed and said Shiki has a complex about keeping the city neat.

“The Yakuza is paid to keep things orderly, Shizu-chan. Believe it or not, there's a lot of honor involved, at least where Shiki-san is concerned. Now get OFF me—“ Izaya had shoved Shizuo off, and then Shizuo tackled him, and Izaya didn't get anymore sleuthing done that night. Shizuo works with Izaya, and he's gone to and from many places attached to Izaya's side, but even now, Shizuo doesn't exactly know how to describe what Izaya...does. Izaya talks a lot, goes to lots of meetings, snoops into personal files on people's computers, and buys and sells things. Somehow, this makes Izaya one of the most dangerous men in the city, but Shizuo doesn't guess he has to understand it. He just has to keep Izaya safe while Izaya wreaks havoc.

Shizuo wrings his hands together before taking his phone out again. He sends Izaya a text.

I have to stay another night

Ten minutes go by. Shizuo tries to focus on the details of the news report, but he can't. He keeps glancing at his phone like it's a bomb, and when it finally goes off, he dives for it as if it's going to run from him.

Poor you. Izaya sent. Shizuo waits a little longer, but nothing else comes through. He grinds his teeth together.

Where are you? Call me.

No reply. Shizuo feels all the rage he usually associates with Izaya, the all-encompassing kind, the kind that makes him not give a shit what he does or who he has to go through to get to Izaya's stupidly smug face. He's about to call Izaya and leave a screaming, incoherent voicemail, but Izaya sends another text right as he picks up the phone.

I'm very busy. Can't talk now, maybe tomorrow.

Shizuo knows he isn't going to get anything else from Izaya tonight. He swallows, considers asking Izaya to send a picture, not even a dirty one. Just anything. He shakes the thought away as soon as it comes, knowing if he saw a picture of Izaya's face, it'd make being away from him even more difficult.

“God, what the fuck is wrong with me?” Shizuo mutters. He thinks about going down to the bar, but decides against it. It would take too much alcohol to even get him close to tipsy, and Shizuo doesn't want to be drunk. He doesn't even really want to smoke, but he does, goes to his balcony and lights up while glaring at the sky. Nothing is going to satisfy this craving he has aside from Izaya, and even hearing his voice and seeing his face wouldn't be enough. Shizuo needs the warmth of Izaya's skin, the scent of him, the way he clings and gasps when Shizuo touches him. Anything else will only piss Shizuo off.

Again, he doesn't sleep well. He falls into it easily enough, so tired from his fitful, sporadic bouts of sleep, but then he's jerking awake again, fully conscious, and it takes a long time of watching shitty TV before he even feels relaxed enough to close his eyes. His phone dings once in the night, but it's an email, something about a sale on a site he ordered a shirt from once. He wakes up to it in the morning and fights not to throw his phone into the wall.

As he's getting ready for the day, Izaya's note in the pocket of today's suit, a dark blue one, tailored perfectly, Shizuo decides no matter what happens, he's leaving tonight. He can't stand another night here while Izaya does flea bullshit hours away, too busy or too stubborn to answer the phone. Shiki will either understand, or he won't, but Shizuo isn't too worried about the man's opinion; he doesn't work for Shiki, and clearly, being away from Izaya isn't something Shizuo is capable of anymore.

He meets Shiki and the others in the lobby. Shiki looks as tired as Shizuo feels, dark circles and bags under his eyes. Shizuo wonders if the others stayed out late last night, or if perhaps Shiki has other stressors. Surely a man of power like Shiki is always having to handle things. It sounds exhausting to Shizuo, who really never wanted to be a big name in Ikebukuro to begin with. He'd much rather walk down the street and have no one recognize him, and Izaya often scoffs at Shizuo when he mentions it, says Shizuo would be bored if he truly had the peaceful life he fawns over. Shizuo is beginning to think Izaya is right about that, because any life with Izaya in it will never be peaceful, and Shizuo has already accepted that.

“Today should be our last,” Shiki says, breaking Shizuo from his reverie. “I'm sure you're as ready to leave as I am.”

Shizuo nods. “I don't think I'll be taking any more trips.”

“Not without that pretty—“ Eiji starts, but he shuts up the second Shizuo's head turns toward him. “Ah. Never mind.”

Grumbling, Shizuo follows after Shiki to the car, and once they're seated, Shizuo looks up plane tickets leaving in the evening. They're ridiculously overpriced, so he looks at train tickets instead.

It's basically a repeat of the day before, and by the time they're filing into the office, Shizuo has chewed a hole in his cheek in his efforts to not tell each and every one of them to fuck themselves. He stands next to Takahashi, behind Shiki and Eiji, and the others are in front of them, across the room. Shizuo recognizes the two men they met before, but there are others as well, a lot of them, none of them particularly noteworthy. In front of them stands a tall man, rings on his fingers that glint in the light, and Shizuo wants to laugh at the man's attempts of having a beard. It's patchy, comically so, and Shizuo wonders why the man wouldn't just shave it off at this point.

“Thank you for coming,” the man says with a bow, and Shiki and Eiji return it. Takahashi and Shizuo remain upright, Takahashi probably to look imposing, and Shizuo because he doesn't want to be here or be polite.

“How wonderful of you to finally meet with us, Yoshida-san,” Shiki says.

“Yes, I'm sorry about yesterday. It was really just bad timing. I'm sure you understand,” Yoshida says. He grins, and Shizuo notices a gold tooth. “Now then, how many I help you, Shiki-san? I was surprised to hear someone like you wanted to meet with me.”

“Someone like me?” Shiki asks, his voice nothing but pleasant. Yoshida's smile falters a bit.

“Awakusu,” Yoshida specifies. “It's amazing such a behemoth would even notice our little group.”

“I notice when people make trouble in my territory,” Shiki says. “Surely you know I've got enough to deal with.”

“Right, that killer and all. Hollywood first, then another soon after? How rough. I sympathize,” Yoshida says, and a few of the men behind him chuckle.

“Serial murderers aside,” Eiji interjects, smiling kindly, “we've noticed many of the men causing issues claim to be members of your faction.”

“Ikebukuro is home to many groups,” Yoshida says. “It seems there's a new color gang every day, and I'm sure you have your own rivals to deal with.”

“The color gangs fight amongst themselves,” Shiki says, a hard edge to his voice. “When they drift, we handle them.”

“Is that what you're doing? Handling us?” Yoshida asks.

“If I must. Drugs are being sold behind bars we run, and people are dying as a result of those, and of your shoddy leadership. When these things happen, the police get involved, and then questions start flying around. It's my job to keep the peace. Whether or not you cooperate is up to you.”

“Mm. Seems to me like you're here because you think you'll do a better job handling us than all the other chaos going on. If you're spiraling, it makes sense that you'd grab onto us first. Then you can tell the people who pay you that you've taken care of us, meanwhile, serial killers are running around.” Yoshida grins again. “You didn't come here for diplomacy, not when you claim to have Heiwajima-san with you.”

“Claim?” Shiki asks.

“That guy looks pretty thin to be able to do the things we've heard about.”

“I see,” Shiki says, and Shizuo's shoulders tense in anticipation. “So then, where does this leave us? Are you going to deny the Awakusu's demands you leave the city?”

“And if we do?”

There's a tense silence, all of them waiting for the others to make a move. Shizuo glares, his eyes on that stupid gold tooth. Everything about it pisses him off. A phone rings out shrilly, and it's coming from Yoshida, who doesn't break eye contact with Shiki.

“By all means,” Shiki drawls.

Yoshida narrows his eyes before taking his phone out of his pocket. He looks at the number and then smirks, answering. He puts it on speaker.

“Yoshida-san, I trust you're still in one piece?” A woman's voice says. Shizuo stiffens, recognizing it immediately. Izaya's secretary.

“Thank you for getting back to me, Nakura-san,” Yoshida says, and Shizuo doesn't think that sounds right.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, but business is booming. Is the meeting finished?”

“We're in the middle of it, actually.”

“Ah. I'll keep this brief then. Based on my sources, the Awakusu intend to rub you out. The meeting is a formality, but I'm sure some part of you knew that already,” “Nakura” says. There's a rustling in the room, and Shizuo turns his head to see one of the men behind Yoshida draw a gun. Shizuo's teeth clench. “If I were you, I'd attack first.”

“And Heiwajima-san?” Yoshida asks, his eyes on Shizuo. “I told you, they claim to have him along.”

“If it is him, you're as good as dead already.”

Yoshida growls. “Tall, blonde, sunglasses, suit—“

“Suit? No, no. Heiwajima-san wears a bartender outfit. He's infamous for it, actually. He'd never wear a suit, it's not his style. You should be fine. He's likely a distraction to stop you aiming for the others first.”

Shizuo wants to laugh, but he's too pissed off. Finally, something is happening, and before any of them can react, he lunges toward the man with the gun, disarming him easily. Before the man can say a word, Shizuo's fist is in his face, and then Shizuo turns, aiming for that stupid gold tooth this time.

It's chaos after that. Shizuo is too far gone to notice the details. His heart is pounding, so loud in his ears that he doesn't hear anything else. His body moves on its own, and any injuries he sustains are numb to him, even as his knuckles bust open and bleed from the intensity of his punches. Everything he's been feeling these past few days, all the anxiety and withdrawal, he lets it out, and it feels so fucking good that he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself.

Vaguely, he recognizes pressure on his shoulder, and he whirls around, aiming to punch whatever the fuck it is, but then he hears something that makes him freeze.

“Shizu-chan!” Izaya. Shizuo blinks until he realizes Izaya is on Shiki's phone, a video-call. Shizuo exhales deeply, the sight of Izaya like a soothing balm over the burn in his blood.

“Izaya... You— What the fuck, Izaya?! Where have you been?”

“You don't need to fight them anymore, not unless you want them dead,” Izaya says. He's tilting his head against his hand. Behind him is the view from his apartment, and Shizuo notices it's raining there. “You look pretty rough, Shizu-chan, but I'll bet you were a sight in that suit before you ruined it.”

Shizuo takes deep breaths. He can suddenly feel the pain in his fingers, but it's distant, a low-level throb as the adrenaline wears off. He remembers he's supposed to be angry at Izaya, but it's hard when every bit of him is screaming to leap into the phone and kiss the smirk off Izaya's lips.

“Would I be right in assuming you know who this Nakura person is?” Shiki asks as Izaya and Shizuo stare at each other. Izaya laughs.

“I told you, didn't I, that this trip was pointless?”

“You have some nerve, Izaya-san,” Shiki says, and Shizuo knows he should hand the phone back to Shiki, but he can't. “You were told to stay out of this.”

“Ah, but you said that before I finished the job you gave me! I thought you meant you wanted me to stay focused on the task at hand. My apologies; I misunderstood.”

“Christ, you and your petty bullshit,” Shiki says, but Shizuo notices he doesn't seem particularly angry.

“Besides, I have others working with me. I was barely involved.” Izaya grins at Shizuo. “They sought me out and asked for information on you immediately after your trip was announced. I told them I couldn't help them, and then I referred them to Nakura-san.”

“Right, and was this before or after Shizuo-san agreed to accompany me?”

“Does that matter?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo can tell Shiki is trying hard to look stern despite the fact Izaya can't even see him. “You wanted them taken care of, and Shizu-chan handled it. Now rumors will spread that he's working with you.”

“Under your supervision, of course.” Shiki pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales. “You've given me at least a handful of gray hairs since meeting you, Izaya-san.”

“You can come home now, right?” Izaya asks Shizuo, and Shizuo nods. “Good. I'm booking the flight now. I'll text you details. Shall I handle arrangements for you too, Shiki-san?”

“I'll remain another day. I need to clean this up and handle any loose ends. Akabayashi-san is handling our killer, right?” Shiki asks.

“Yes, you'll get your turn with him.”

“Good.”

“The— Izaya, you found the killer?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya's smile grows.

“I told you I was working, didn't I? You picked a bad time to leave, Shizu-chan, but I handled it.”

Gently, Shiki takes the phone from Shizuo. He motions to the door. “I'll be in touch. The driver will take you to the hotel and then to the airport.” He puts a hand on Shizuo's shoulder. “Good work.”

***

It's all a blur from there. Shizuo doesn't bother cleaning his wounds, just runs into his room and throws everything in his case, much messier than Izaya did. It doesn't matter to him how it looks. Izaya found a flight leaving very soon, and Shizuo isn't going to wait around for the next one.

By the time he's back in Shinjuku, back stiff from the flight and then the cab ride home, Shizuo is ready to drop into bed and sleep for days. He yawns as he exits the elevator, and he glares down at his bloodied knuckles, which have dried into a crusty, throbbing mess. He'll wash them in little while, maybe splash some alcohol on them. That's all Shinra does anyway, except Shinra charges out the ass for it.

Shizuo steps into the apartment and feels all the tension drain from him immediately. It's like stepping into a hot bath on a freezing day, calming and soothing, something to look forward to. He doesn't see Izaya at first, but he sees two other silhouettes, and he groans, leaving his luggage where it is as he walks to the couch where they're seated.

“Shizu-nii is back!” Mairu says happily, but her voice is lowered. Between her and Kururi is Izaya, sprawled out, his head in Kururi's lap as he snoozes.

“Shizu-nii?” Shizuo asks incredulously.

“Basically, right? When you marry nii-san anyway.” She waves her hand. “Oh, but you can't actually marry him, you know? Then we'd be related to Yuhei-san, and... Well, it's not a deal-breaker, but—“

“Shh,” Kururi interjects. She's petting through Izaya's hair. “He's sleeping.”

“You're bloody,” Mairu says to Shizuo. “You're not gonna touch Iza-nii with gross hands, right? Not very romantic.”

“Is there an off button on you?” Shizuo asks, grimacing. She leers up at him with an expression that's so like Izaya that Shizuo is tempted to find a vending machine and lift it for old time's sake. “Why are you here?”

“It's been a while since we stayed the night, and Iza-nii didn't object too much. He was probably lonely without you,” Mairu says.

“We like his TV,” Kururi adds, and Mairu nods emphatically.

“He hasn't let us over much since you moved in! It's unfair, you know? We were here first.”

“We'll share,” Kururi says.

Shizuo considers flopping down onto the couch and leaving this conversation for later, but that's not what he wants. He leans over, careful not to jostle Izaya too much as he lifts. Of course, Izaya wakes anyway. He's a very light sleeper.

“Shizu-chan?” he asks.

“Yeah, it's me.”

“Welcome home.” Izaya yawns and curls into Shizuo, fingering the collar of Shizuo's wrinkled suit jacket.

“We're going to bed,” Shizuo says, leveling a look at the twins. “I don't care what you do, but stay down here.”

“As if we want to see Iza-nii getting pounded,” Mairu says, and Shizuo's face feels like it's on fire.

“For fuck's sake! Do any of you have an ounce of— I don't know! Humility!”

Three identical pairs of eyes give Shizuo the same look, and he figures that's an answer in itself.

Shizuo carries Izaya upstairs and sets him on the bed. Izaya watches him undress almost smugly, lounging on his side and observing every inch of skin Shizuo uncovers like Izaya is a king looking upon his treasures.

“Your hands,” Izaya says.

“It's not bad,” Shizuo says, and Izaya snorts. Shizuo's missed that stupid snort so much.

“Well, I doubt many injuries would be bad for you. You still should have cleaned it. Go wash your hands and bring me the box,” Izaya says, sitting up. Shizuo does just that, not bothering to argue. He's too tired, and too happy to be back where he belongs.  

He sits across from Izaya on the bed, watching as Izaya's hands dab alcohol on the open wounds. It burns, but Shizuo feels medicated almost, too subdued to really notice the sting as more than a passing thought.

“You look exhausted,” Izaya says. He starts wrapping bandages around Shizuo's hand.

“I didn't sleep.”

“Mm. Neither did I.”

Shizuo leans in, buries his face in Izaya's hair and inhales deeply. He hums and lowers his head, nuzzles against Izaya's cheek. Their noses brush together, and then Shizuo kisses Izaya, gently at first, and then deeply, his wrapped hand coming to tangle in Izaya's hair as Izaya makes that soft little noise that drives Shizuo crazy.

“Fuck,” Shizuo murmurs, and then he's kissing Izaya harder, plunging as deeply inside Izaya's mouth as he can, his hands keeping Izaya's head in place in case Izaya tries to pull away.

“Your other hand,” Izaya murmurs against his lips, and Shizuo growls at him, shoves him down and presses him into the sheets. “I'm not done tending to your monster claws.”

“Tend to me,” Shizuo says. He spreads Izaya's legs and settles between them, grinding their dicks together. Izaya groans, his head falling back.

“You don't taste like cigarettes,” Izaya says, and Shizuo grins.

“Had a much worse craving than cigarettes. It's been driving me crazy.”

“Oh? Am I more pressing than nicotine?” Izaya asks, and he gasps when Shizuo bites down onto his neck.

“You're nagging. Needling. Insistent,” Shizuo growls, his tongue lapping at the droplets of blood oozing from the bite. “I've been fucking— God, Izaya, I can't be away from you anymore.”

“No one said you had to be,” Izaya says, and he tangles his fingers in Shizuo's hair, yanking at the golden strands like they're a lifeline. “No one made you go.”

“You said you didn't need me here,” Shizuo says, and Izaya rolls his eyes.

“What do you want me to say? You want me to say I need you, that I'm hopelessly addicted to you? That I don't think of anything else but you?”

“Would you mean it if you said those things?” Shizuo asks, and he groans when Izaya yanks harder at his hair.

“I've said all this before. How many times do I have to tell you how pathetically in love with you I am?”

Shizuo can't control himself anymore after that. He yanks Izaya's pants off, ripping them to shreds in his eagerness, and Izaya doesn't chastise, just lifts his hips to make it easier for Shizuo. Neither of says another word as Shizuo works his fingers inside Izaya, their eyes locked together until Izaya's close in pleasure as Shizuo presses against that bundle of nerves inside him.

“Please,” Izaya gasps.

“Tell me to never leave again,” Shizuo says, and he doesn't think it comes off as very commanding. It's a plea, and both of them hear it. “Tell me you need me with you.”

“I do,” Izaya says, and when he opens his eyes again, Shizuo focuses on how tired Izaya looks, how messy his hair is, how dark the circles under his eyes are. “Don't leave, never leave me, what else do you want me to say?”

Shizuo removes his fingers, braces himself over Izaya, and pushes inside, both of them melting together bonelessly as if they've been given a shot of something strong they've needed badly. Shizuo buries his face in Izaya's neck and thrusts his hips almost languidly, and Izaya's entire body wraps around him, pulls him deeper inside like a trap Shizuo never intends to free himself from.

He thought their reunion sex would be quick and frantic, but it's the opposite. It's slow and intimate, and Shizuo loses himself in the feeling of Izaya around him. He moans when Izaya comes, Izaya's hole clenching and milking Shizuo's dick until Shizuo follows suit. Neither of them moves, and while Shizuo wants to go again, he's not especially eager.

“I love you,” Shizuo murmurs into Izaya's neck. “And I want to kill you for not answering your fucking phone.”

“I really was busy. I was close to finding out who the killer was, and then another body turned up. It was easier after that. I set a trap for him, and he fell into it.” Izaya traces patterns in Shizuo's skin while he talks.

“A trap?” Shizuo asks.

“Ruri-chan,” Izaya says, and he grins widely when Shizuo pulls back to look at him. “She's his type, you know? The guy did just as we suspected.”

“You enlisted a celebrity to help you hand over a rapist to the Yakuza?” Shizuo asks. “My brother's girlfriend?”

“Oh, please,” Izaya says. “She's a killer, too. She was never in any danger. Besides, her being there made Akabayashi-san warm up to me a little. She gave him an autograph.”

“Izaya. Fuck.”

“So now a raping murderer is off the streets, and Shiki-san's little rival gang sealed their own fate by attacking you. It all worked out like I knew it would.”

“This whole time— I was just asked to go as a clean-up crew? That's it?” Shizuo asks. He's not offended, just confused. “Shiki-san could have handled that without me.”

“He could have, but it was about more than getting some thugs off the street. He wanted to send a message. Two messages, actually. The first is that you're on the side of the Awakusu. Other groups won't know you're not an official member. That doesn't matter. Word will spread that you went on this trip, and more people will fall in line with what Shiki-san wants,” Izaya says.

“And the second message?”

“Shiki-san hoped to humble me by taking you away from me. He'd never admit to it, of course, but he wanted to leave me alone and remind me who's in charge.” Izaya smirks. “I'm sure he's pleased with himself.”

“That's not... Izaya, I wouldn't have left if I thought it would actually bother you.” Shizuo clenches the fabric of the sheets, cursing softly. “If something had happened to you...”

“I'm not fragile, you know.” Izaya hugs tighter around Shizuo. “You don't have to worry so much about my safety.”

“I don't think you're fragile. I think you're fucking crazy.”

Izaya laughs. “Did Shiki-san seem very angry?”

“No. I think he was glad you goaded them into action. He wanted it to be over with. I don't think he's been sleeping much either.”

“Oh, he hasn't.” Izaya's grin turns into a leer. “I kept him up all night by sending him frequent updates. He's kicking himself that he didn't get to meet Ruri-chan as well. Akabayashi-san bragged about it extensively.”

Shizuo chuckles in spite of himself, and he nuzzles back into Izaya's neck. “You're terrible, you know that? Absolutely awful.”

“He needed to suffer,” Izaya says simply. “You're mine. No one should take you from me, no matter how short the time-frame is supposed to be.”

Shizuo hums in agreement, and he feels Izaya softening under him, both of them sinking further into the sheets of the bed. Shizuo lifts his hips, and Izaya makes an indignant noise.

“Stay inside me...” Izaya murmurs, tightening his legs around Shizuo. “Just a little longer, want to feel you a little longer...”

Shizuo obliges, pleased as he always is when Izaya asks this of him. Izaya's voice is heavy with sleep, and Shizuo pets down Izaya's sides, kisses Izaya's neck.

“You falling asleep, flea?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya hums.

“You're home,” Izaya says, halfway out of it, and Shizuo doesn't have to ask for an elaboration on what Izaya might mean.

“I'm home,” Shizuo replies, and as Izaya drifts off into unconsciousness, Shizuo knows he'll never leave Izaya's side again, not for anything in the world.

[shekissesturians]

Animes Watched Since Quarentine Started ~

So I just sat down and realized... I have developed a problem X’D  BUT it could be worse! So I figured I would share for those looking for something new to watch! Also, what have y’all been watching!?

Full list below the line + reviews! * No spoilers, I promise! I wouldn’t do you dirty like that! *  ;-*

1. Kakegurui 

This show took me by surprise, I had no idea gambling could be so thrilling! Plus let us take a moment to appreciate the facial expressions animated in this show! Beautiful, just beautiful. Beware though, this anime gets dark, and sick, and you will definitely forget to breath at times. It is a thorough joy.

2. Steins;Gate

3. Steins;Gate 0

Honestly, Steins;Gate + Stains; Gate 0 is one of the best animes I have EVER seen. Legit. Also, It is one of the best stories of time travel I have ever encountered. The way it is explained in the anime is brilliant! Compelling, thrilling, emotional, so much amazingness. I watched in chronological order instead of season order which I really enjoyed. Also one of the most moving anime endings I have seen. All the characters you will fall in love with, and their character development is one heck of a ride. A must watch, 100%.

4. Fullmetal Alchemist

This was a nostalgia back flash for me! It was been years and I felt like reliving it all over again. Which I am glad I did, cus boy was there a lot of heavy themes and topics I did not pick up on when I was younger! One of the biggest themes was this existential undertone throughout the whole show that explored the ideas of humanity, authority, morality and race.

5. Fullmetal Alchemist Conqueror of Shamballa

A must follow up to the original FMA series. It just ties the whole story up in a pretty bow. I remember when I first saw this movie, it was my first encounter this the idea of multiple dimensions and it just blew my mind. The whole this felt so exciting and surreal, and I loved the addition of our timeline playing a part. Watching FMA + Movie over again leaves me a bit torn on which is better, Brotherhood or first adaptation. I think both should be watched for a full understanding of the lore. The first anime series definitely has some holes and details missing, but it’s also so nostalgic and they really give you a better development of characters and feels than Brotherhood does, as they rush through that to get back to the main plot.... so grab some popcorn and watch both and just enjoy the ride :)

6. Angels of Death

This anime has such a unique premise!! And morally it is just all sorts of twisted, which I love! The music is fantastic in it and all the characters you encounter are very unique and fun... it’s dark though, don’t get me wrong.. and twisted. BUT a fun ride if you are down for that kind of adventure!

7. Another

WHOOOO BUDDY! If you want to go on a journey THIS IS ONE! It’s a mind bending premise and each episode ends in so much suspense. I literally could’ve watched the whole thing in one day. This anime is like a jar of Pringles, once you start you just can’t stop!

8. Death Parade 

This anime gets the prize for the most misleading opening ever! X’D But it is such a BOP Please watch if you can. The anime overall is a joy, its very thought provoking and touches on the darker topics of death and mortality. Who is really good? Who is evil? Where do they seamlessly blend into each other? Besides the premise being so unique and tantalizing, the artwork is breathtaking! The background and environments the characters exist in are gorgeous. As an artist and a writer, I appreciate this anime on so many levels.

9. Sekkou Boys

Oh god, this anime is a joy. Just pure, clean joy T.T The episode are VERY short so you could finish the whole thing in an evening. But if you are an artist, a Renaissance history lover, or a J-pop fan, you will especially appreciate this joy of a creation. Watch it for your soul, you will feel better afterwards.

10. Kokoro Connect

This is a very intriguing coming of age story to say the least. There is an element of fantasy/science fiction that comes into the picture that stirs all sorts of trouble for our dear group of friends. It makes you really reflect your own intra- and interpersonal relationships and how we perceive and interact with one another. Overall a fun trip to go on.

11. Occultic; Nine

HOLD ONTO YOUR HORSES CUS THIS ANIME IS FAST! Omgsh, if you watch in Japanese like I did, get ready to have tired eyes cus the pace and speech of this anime is like nothing I have encountered before, but it is soooo much fun! It is mystery combined with the supernatural. It’s one of those animes where there is a lot of characters involved and some how everyone is connected in some way, like Baccano! if you have seen it. I would say to watch this AFTER you watch Steins;Gate if you have any interests because it is written by the same writers and there is little things that reference back to Steins;Gate which are really fun to pick up on.

12. School-Live!

I didn’t know what to expect when I started this series. It is not the kind of art style I am normally drawn towards but I am soo glad I watched. The characters are all really fun and cute! Especially the puppy!! <3 You deal with psychological stress as well as a nice mix of slice of life all in the midst of a zombie apocalypse! It’s a combination I never knew I wanted in my life, but now I am glad I have it. Don’t let the cute animation style fool you... it gets DARK. I was full out trying not to sob at one point, but I think that just shows how many levels are involved in this story. Have fun with this ride my friends <3

13. My Hero Academia

GUYS ARE YOU FREAKING READY!? This was the story I never knew I needed in my life, but now I don’t know how I lived without it. Dear god, I binged this one so hard I think I forgot to breath for a week. All of the characters are so dynamic and the overall tone of the series is so uplifting and positive. If you are in a depressive slump just turn this one on. I promise you, you will be smiling and feeling better in no time! It is so motivational as well. Humor, action, suspense, thrilling, emotional- I don’t think there is anything they don’t touch on. Uhg gosh, I could prob write a dissertation on all the themes and undertones expressed in this work. I promise you, this is a journey you will not regret taking <3

14. My Hero Academia: Two Heroes

I’ll be honest, I think sometimes series’ movies miss the mark, or just feel lackluster, like a power hour of filler. This one my friends.... DID NOT. I was really glad I watched it too, because I felt as though it added so much to the main story line. Plus you get to see college years All Might... so bonus! X3 But seriously, it is a very fun movie and it gives you more background to the world you wouldn’t otherwise get.

15. Shiki

First off... THE ART. This anime’s art is so unique and fits so well into the overall narrative. But honestly, I feel like this anime is a work of art, it feels like an old folk tale/dark fairy tale you would elders talking about in a pub late at night. The narrative never went where I expected it to, and by the end I was so morally conflicted I didn’t know what to do with myself. It’s a dark fantasy that really explores all the little nitty gritty grey areas that are often passed over in stories. There were definitely a few scenes that made me so uncomfortable I was squirming. Human nature is truly a sight to behold, and this anime shows it to you.

16. Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress

The Feudal Japan- Post apocalyptic- Steam punk journey you never knew existed! Gosh this anime is amazing. First off the art is breathtaking and many scenes reminded me of Miyazaki. Second, the music is SO GOOD. It’s a concept on the undead that I find to be very unique and truly thrilling. Most of the anime takes place on a train which is such an intriguing element. You also go into human fear of the unknown and how our nature can truly be our biggest hindrance. The characters are great and you get to the point of really rooting for them. Get ready for this feast for your senses!

17. Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress Movie: Battle of Unato

After watching the series I felt like my heart was still missing something. Honestly the whole thing felt like it went by too fast. I still wanted more! This movie helped fill the void in my heart. You get to see relationship begin to form between characters as well as more insight into kabane and all their abilities. Standing alone, this movie is a really fun adventure and gives more insight into the state Japan is in overall.

So THERE YOU HAVE IT! I hope you might have found some new things to watch. I would love to see others lists of things they have watched, feel free to leave in the comments! Or if you have watched any of these, I would love to hear your thoughts! Let’s chat <3

[subasekabang]

One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed

Title: One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed Rating: T/PG-13 for swearing and bloodless violence Word Count: 13,700 Pairings/Characters: No ships/Genfic. Neku, Joshua, Hanekoma as main characters. Appearances by most everyone else from TWEWY including Beat, Rhyme, Shiki, the reapers Warnings: brief mentions of past trauma/death (some of the Reapers discuss why they died), angelic/eldritch body horror (no blood or gore), imprisonment Summary: Neku’s in college now, and other than passing through Shibuya’s subway station to get to other parts of the city, he doesn’t really stop by much anymore. But when he gets a serious case of artist’s block before a gallery show, he decided to go back to his old stomping grounds to get inspired. Partner: @soundofez​ and @songsummoner​ Author’s Note: This was a fun, super weird piece. I also did some art for it on top of my partner’s work; all the art from me and my partners will appear in the correct parts of the fic on my AO3 link, which will go up Oct. 2. I’ll link in reply to this post with it when that’s up so you can see some really weird stuff (my own art is included below, though!!). Special thanks to Fez for designing college-age Neku’s clothes.

Also, Neku fights (and apologizes to) a building.

Enjoy!

XXX

Neku sighed. Squinting, he rolled up the blinds on his studio apartment a little, taking in the view. One window, the Skytree. The other, he could glimpse the top part of Sensouji’s pagoda. Asakusa was no Shibuya, but it had lots of car free pathways, quirky art stalls, and lots of tourists to draw. And it was a heck of a lot cheaper than living in Ueno.

He could walk to campus in about half an hour on a good day or take the subway just one stop to Tokyo University of the Arts on a bad one. It was convenient and, while a touristy area, surprisingly quiet.

Too quiet today, though. Neku fired up his tablet, pinging his friends. They always called everyone in a big group chat, though there was no obligation to answer.

“Sup, Phones?” Beat grinned into the camera, a giggle heard in the background.

“Beat, are you ever going to actually use his name?”

“I am though!” Best objected. “Neku’s tag is a pair of headphones. It’s practically his name at this point.”

“You’re not going to win on a technicality,” Rhyme chirped, turning the camera so she was in frame. “We’re between takes, anyway. What’s up, Neku?”

“Shit, did I interrupt a shoot?” Neku hovered over the hang-up button.

“I just said we were on break!” Rhyme reiterated, flailing her hands in front of her. “But Beat is shooting with your deck!”

His friend, who had only grown more muscular with the past five years, hefted up his skateboard, showing off the art of a flying squirrel on the undercarriage. “It’s still the sickest one I’ve got. You’d better have another one in the wings when it gets decommissaried, yo!”

“Decommissioned.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever, Beat,” another voice popped in, the newcomer’s eyebrow quirked in a hint of static as the visual flickered on.

“Sup, Shiki!” Beat said, waving wildly.

“Meet me for drinks when you’re done shooting? I can hop on the subway. It’s only a stop.”

“How’d you know where we are?”

“Beat, you always skate in Ikebukuro,” Shiki said matter-of-factly. “And I’m at school, so I’m only a stop away from you.”

“Oh. Right. Sometimes I wish we kept our mind reading powers,” Beat said with a pout.

“Noooooo thank you,” Shiki said with a grin. “Anyway, what’s all this about? I’ve got ten minutes ‘til my Fashion Sales class.”

Neku scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepishly at the camera. “I… er. Kinda needed some advice. I’ve got a gallery class where my one assignment is supposed to take the whole semester and I’m a bit stuck. I need to hand my draft proposition in by the end of next week.”

“What’s the topic?” Rhyme asked.

“That’s the thing. The art—even the medium—is up to me. Every fine art track has to take this thing. So, it doesn’t need to be painting, but I have to secure a space and create a work to match it. Like, get permission to paint a building, or something like that. Private or public property, just no vandalism. Street paste or yarn bombing is OK in public spaces. Basically, as long as it’s non-destructive; otherwise we need permission from the owner.”

“So, you need to scout out a place and make something that compliments it?” Rhyme asked.

“Yeah. And we can work together if we want. I don’t know my classmates well enough to know if our styles clash though.”

“Sounds tough.”

“That’s why it’s my whole assignment.”

Beat frowned. “I’ve got a good sponsorship going with Wild Boar. Could see if you could tag one of their shops.”

“Maybe,” Neku said. “But I want to step out of my comfort zone a little if I can. It’s a good backup.”

Shiki bit her lip. “Maybe you just need a little inspiration.”

“Little is an understatement.”

“What about that tag mural in Shibuya? Would that be fair game?”

The chat went silent. That wall in question was public property. It was absolutely not game—not for this assignment at least.

“Why?” Neku almost whispered, hoarse. “Why’d you even bring it up?”

“Because it’s been five years, Neku, and you haven’t gone back. CAT did what you’ve been assigned; he was a street artist who also did all these kinds of hired art too.”

“Hanekoma’s gone,” Neku reminded her. “I stopped trying. The shop was destroyed. If he ever came back, he’s not in Shibuya.”

“Then… ignore my bad idea,” Shiki said, not meeting eyes with the camera. “Sorry I brought it up.”

“No! No,” Neku reassured her, forcefully, then quiet, as if he were a deflating balloon. “Sorry if I snapped.”

“You didn’t snap,” Rhyme offered, before changing the subject. “I’ll think on it though; there’s gotta be some struggling coffee shop that could use some art, or something. Anyway… we need to get back to work, now.”

“And I have class. Neku, let’s chat tonight, after dinner? I can swing by your place. We can go get conveyor belt sushi over by Nakamise.”

“That… sounds pretty good, actually. Yeah. Let’s.”

“Later, alligator!” Rhyme said, chipper.

“Yeah! Later!” Shiki added.

“Let’s bounce!” Beat snuck in as Rhyme ended the call.

Neku was left alone to his thoughts.

Shibuya.

He and his friends romped through the city almost every weekend after they were all brought back—at least at first. Eventually exams took over for Shiki and Neku, both hell-bent on getting in Bunka Fashion College and Tokyo Arts respectively. Beat slowly got more and more skate sponsorships with Rhyme as his videographer, making her new dream to shoot the world’s best skater: her brother.

Neku closed his eyes, imagining the gleaming, ad-drenched skyscrapers, a far cry from the view from his apartment window.

Maybe.

Maybe it was time to finally go back; maybe Shiki wasn’t wrong. It was his old stomping grounds, his old home. And it was only a few hundred yens’ ride away.

Neku pinched his forearm once to ground himself, grabbed his wallet and a scarf (courtesy of Shiki’s weaving class, in a sturdy textured purple crepe) and headed out the door.

Xxx

Neku’s palm touched plaster and concrete. Slowly, he slid his hand along the wall, breathing out an exhale. Even in his high school years, when his friends would regularly bum around Shibuya after school and on weekends, he avoided the mural. It wasn’t that he stopped liking it; just… He felt he didn’t need it anymore. He had plenty of CAT’s art to keep him company, from the pins in his pocket to the billboards throughout the city.

Maybe he was young and naïve back then, but looking at the faded piece, partially obscured by other, less impressive tags… well, it didn’t seem very impressive anymore.

“‘Course it isn’t, you brain-dead binomial,” a familiar voice sneered from behind him. Neku whipped around to see Sho Minamimoto, cat whiskers and all, grinning with fanged teeth.

Sho put up his hands as a peace offering, sensing Neku’s hackles rising. “I’m not attacking the living; don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’d really rather not get divided by zero. Again.”

Neku relaxed his shoulders a little but said nothing.

“You’re a leaky faucet, you single-digit integer,” Sho explained, as he pointed to a vending machine, sending a pair of CC Lemon bottles flying out of it and at the two of them. He leaned against the mural, back to it, sliding down to sit and sighing with his drink. “I miss CAT, too, you know. Been the square-root of 25 years since anyone’s seen a new piece of his. Some of the reapers actually thought it might’ve been you.”

Neku laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Me?” he asked, plopping down next to his former enemy, accepting the citrus-flavored peace offering. “I was fifteen. And CAT had been active way before I was born.”

“Thought it was a title, you dumb fractal. Like Pope or Emperor.”

“Expert street artists are called Kings and Queens, you know.”

“And dead ones are Angels,” Sho added with a sage nod. “Trying to one-up a Reaper on art is like trying to find the cube root of i.”

Neku stared down at his soft drink, thinking of Hanekoma. The title suited him in more ways than one, thanks to a little packet he’d found in Mr. H’s shop back when he and Beat snuck in to see if there was anything they could save. Since Hanekoma was CAT, there had been a pretty strong likelihood some of his art was still in the ruined café, but sadly there wasn’t any evidence in there at all. Neku saw faded marks where canvases and an easel had once been stacked in a curious empty back room; someone had beaten them to clearing it out.

Sho pulled Neku out of his thoughts eventually, after one intrepid skater ate pavement attempting to grind the Cyco Records railing.

“What’s eating you, pain-in-my-vector? Well, former.”

“You don’t hold a grudge?” Neku asked curiously.

“It’s a long afterlife. Grudges are useless.”

The two sat in silence for a while, watching the skaters try their new decks outside the Wild Boar at the midpoint of the T section.

“You gonna ask me why I’m here?”

“I know why you’re here,” Sho replied testily, tapping his temple. “Was waiting to see if you’d give me the proof out of your mouth.”

“Right. Mind reading.”

“I can’t see every piece of the equation; that’s not how it works and you know it. But I can solve for x and fill in the blanks.”

Neku sighed. “What can you see?”

“That you’re stuck on a hard problem and you’ve been staring at your homework too long.”

“And by problem you mean—”

“I can’t tell—just some big project is eating you up. At least it’s not Higashizawa. That hectopascal can eat a man whole. I’ve seen it.” Minamimoto slung back his drink. “So, what’s eating you?”

“I mean, other than you being alive again?” Neku asked, eyebrow raised.

“Still dead as I was last you saw me.”

“Last I saw you, you were crushed under a vending machine.”

“Eh, I’ve had worse days.” Minamimoto shrugged. “That infinite asshole of a Composer fixed me back up and sent me right back to work. Now stop stalling, you obtuse angle. Out with it.”

“Artist’s block,” Neku admitted sheepishly. “I’ve got a big project coming up and I just can’t think of the right thing to do.”

Sho laughed, his head flung back and whole body shaking with the action. “Artist’s block, you dithering digit. You don’t think we Reapers never deal with that shit? At least for you, it’s not fatal.”

“F-fatal?” Neku asked, almost dropping his bottle.

“We run on Imagination,” Sho said, chucking his emptied-out drink with force, sending it flying halfway down the alley into a recycling bin attached to a vending machine. “No Imagination, no power. No power long enough and poof, divide by zero. Crunch. Drop a vending machine on me? I’ll walk it off. Go too long without making something…”

Sho went uncharacteristically quiet, running his fingers through a hole in his jeans.

“So, what do you do when you’re stuck?” Neku finally asked.

“I raid the trash. Something always finds its way to me.” Sho pulled a loose thread and threw it to the wind. “I don’t just mean the garbage; I mean the rest of us. Talkin’ it out’s helped. I used to think I didn’t need anybody else. But then I got subtracted out so many times by you ‘n Prisspants, well. Don’t want to admit it but dividing up the work’s helped solve the harder equations.”

Neku smiled, offering a hand. “I can leave you my number if you ever want to talk shop.”

Sho blinked twice, confused. “You’d… help me? I was an irrational digit.”

“So? I was an asshole teenager. I pass through often enough. It’s not much trouble, especially if you’re feeding me,” Neku admitted, shaking his now empty bottle. “You try keeping on weight on a college art student’s budget.”

“Yeah, all right,” Sho said, standing up, swiping Neku’s empty bottle to shove in one of his myriad pockets. “A balanced equation—I dig it. I’m using this in my next piece,” he added, tapping the bottle with a hollow thud. “Thanks… Neku.”

Before Neku had a chance to even realize it was the first time Sho called him by name, the Reaper had vanished back to the Underground, out of Neku’s reach.

Xxx

Neku stood at the mural a few minutes longer, rolling the plastic bottle cap in his fingers. If Sho was alive, well, less dead, then Joshua was still haunting Shibuya from somewhere—Hanekoma, too.

So why was the mural so worn out? Had Mr. H run out of new inspiration himself? Neku sighed, no more ready to tackle the assignment as he hoofed it back to the station, tossing the bottle-cap into the recycling as he passed.

The CC Lemon Sho had expertly pitched was mysteriously absent from the top of the pile.

“If Sho went dumpster diving to make recycled friendship bracelets, I think I’ll actually bust a rib laughing,” Neku muttered to himself.

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Neku whipped his head around to see a Reaper in a basic hoodie. A faceless grunt, one of at least tens, if not hundreds, patrolling the city. No visible wings, so at least Neku could remind himself he hadn’t gone sliding into the UG. Just another Reaper coming up to the RG for air. Or to pester him.

Or both.

“Do I know you?” Neku asked, eyeing the teenage-looking apparition in oversized clothing.

The boy huffed. “The Reaper Review remembers you.”

Neku laughed and relaxed a little. “At least you’re not the Reaper who made me show up in all Mus Rattus to break their barrier. Or the other one who made me get them a chili dog.”

“When you’re a minor officer, you’re allowed to send Players on wild goose chases,” the Reaper said with a shrug. “I’m just happy I was allowed to block mine with trivia. I hate fighting.”

“You and me both,” Neku grumbled.

The reaper tipped his hood back slightly, enough to show Neku his ethereal looking eyes. “I overheard you had artist’s block. Er, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. It’s the worst.”

“Great. Is my mind safe from any of you?” Neku groaned, though it wasn’t in anger. He couldn’t complain. Hearing the livings’ thoughts just happened when you were dead.

“Actually, I was guarding the mural and overheard your chat with the Lieutenant.”

“Oof. Minamimoto got a demotion?”

“He seems happier in the field, anyway,” the Reaper replied with a shrug. “More time for his sculptures and harassing players.”

Neku looked at the Reaper curiously. “Sho mentioned you all do art. Have to keep your Imagination up.”

“That’s… not entirely true. I mean yeah, gotta keep the creative juices going or we stop existing. But it doesn’t have to be through art. Cooking, dance, whatever goes. When I’m stuck, I usually learn from another Reaper. Gives me some perspective.”

Neku’s smile widened. “You’re right, you know. I need to broaden my horizons. What do you do?”

“Me? Uh… I design puzzles. The player traps and stuff.”

“Ugh,” Neku groaned.

“You paint, right? I remember seeing some of your tags under the Miyashita Park underpass a few years ago. You’re pretty good. Maybe… try heading over near Shibu-Q? The Reapers that dance usually practice that way—sidewalk is wide enough. Loosen up with some life drawing or something.”

Neku smiled. “I have to do an installation project, but you know what? That’s not a terrible idea. Thanks.” He looked to the corner where Shibu-Q stood and then back at his nameless friend, but the Reaper was already gone.

Xxx

Neku didn’t know what he was expecting to find outside Shibu-Q, but a pair of Harrier Reapers doing acrobatic dancing was not it. Neku smirked as he watched the reaper woman with electric purple lipstick—Uzuki, if he remembered correctly—pirouetting before using her friend as a vaulting block to spin up and over his back.

The two continued their routine, the man—Kariya, Neku remembered after a few embarrassed moments of mental fumbling—seeming lazy and unmoving but carefully and precisely supporting his partner’s flashy moves. The two continued for another ten minutes or so, then each held out a hat for change.

Neku patted himself down for his wallet before dumping three 500-yen coins in Uzuki’s hat as it passed around. She glared at him a moment, then pushed the coins back in his face.

“Not taking money from you,” she snipped. “I already owe you enough. Shoo.”

Kariya looked over his shoulder at Neku, momentarily confused. After all, the two of them hadn’t aged a day while Neku was now a lanky, slightly scruffy young adult. Realization crossed the Reaper’s features slowly, eventually tugging his mouth into a half grin. Kariya offered Neku a backwards half-salute and went back to waving his hat around for change.

Eventually the crowd dispersed. Kariya loped over to Neku and Uzuki, clapping Neku on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo. You’re as tall as I am now. Good on you. How’s life treating you?”

Neku couldn’t help but laugh at the double meaning behind the words. “Busy. College.”

“You know, I wondered when I would stop seeing you run around the RG so much over here.”

“Never mind me,” Neku said, sloughing off Kariya’s friendly gesture and looking at the two of them. “How are you holding up?”

“How do you think?” Uzuki spat. “There weren’t many powerful Reapers left after that mess—at least for a while. So, some ass went and got themselves promoted to Conductor.”

Kariya looked down at his feet, blush going all the way across his face. “It’s not like I asked for it; I wasn’t given a choice. At least I negotiated that I could do things my way. Uzuki’s my GM.”

Neku frowned. “So… then you know the Composer.”

Kariya’s eyes went uncharacteristically fierce. “That’s on a need to know basis and—”

“Read my mind then,” Neku countered. “There’s something I do need to know.”

Neku closed his eyes and thought of Joshua. What he really wanted was to talk to Mr. Hanekoma, but the only way he was going to be able to do that would be going to Joshua first.

Kariya whistled low. “Okay. Fine. Kid, come here a sec.”

“Kariya, come on. Why are you even telling this kid anything? He’s alive. And—”

“He knows about Josh, Uzuki, I’m not giving him anything new. Just… maybe pointing him in the right direction.”

Uzuki pushed a loose strand of burgundy hair from her eyes. “Fiiiiine, whatever. You’re the boss.”

“You’ve seen him?” Neku asked quietly.

“’Course I have. He’s my boss,” Kariya said with a sigh. “Though he only comes to speak if he feels like it. I’ve caught him sulking over past the Miyashita Park underpass though. No clue why. Out there is just a bunch of sporting goods stores and Josh and physical activity mix like oil and vinegar. Hope that helps. What do you need him for, anyway? You’re alive.”

“It’s not him I’m even looking for,” Neku admitted. “I want him to tell me what happened to an old friend.”

Kariya relaxed a bit. “If said old friend has anything to do with the UG, might as well ask me.”

“I’m looking for CAT.”

Kariya frowned, scratching the back of his head in contemplation. “CAT was a Reaper? He— or she, I guess— stopped doing anything new after I became Conductor. Yeah. You’d have to speak to Josh. That’s before my time and below my pay grade.”

“Thanks anyway, Kariya,” Neku said, genuinely appreciative. “It’s better than nothing.”

“Anytime. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Neku closed his eyes a moment, sighing quietly. “Hope so too,” he muttered, opening them to an empty sidewalk.

Xxx

Neku headed eastbound towards Cat Street, passing Stride on the left. Gone were the Tin Pin banners, long since replaced with whatever new plastic toy battling fad that had taken hold of the local kids.

“You know, I heard a commotion from some of the older guard that a carrot was running around Udagawa.”

Neku had whiplash. Poised behind him with a cigarette loosely held in between his middle and ring finger was a face Neku couldn’t believe he was seeing.

“Seven?” Neku asked incredulously. He reached out his hand for the bleach-blonde, swaggering musician’s to find it cold as ice. Neku frowned. “Smoking kills, you know.”

777 played with the cigarette between his fingers. “How d’you think I died?” He gave a cocky grin. “Actually, I fell off a roof rigging an abandoned warehouse party. This is why you do safety checks. Tenho still gives me grief about it.”

Neku smiled weakly. “That bites.”

“The dust? Oof. Yeah. But hey, all three of us went down at once. The party scattered and when we showed up to play a new set a few weeks later nobody realized we weren’t exactly alive. They probably thought we broke a bone or two at worst and hid to lick our wounds—not cracked our skulls on the sidewalk.” Neku winced. “Er, sorry, Orange. Didn’t mean to dredge up anything bad on your end. Just odd, seeing you back.”

“Looking for someone,” Neku admitted. “The owner of the café that used to be on Cat Street.”

“Hanekoma? Stopped in there for coffee sometimes. Bit odd. His shop didn’t have the Player decal, yet he definitely served stiffs. Reapers as customers is one thing—we can go to the RG—but… hell. What do I know?”

Neku flocked his eyes up and down the street. Not that it mattered; Reapers could be in the UG right next to him and he wouldn’t know. “Yeah, he could see the dead.”

“ESPer or something?” Seven asked, blowing out a smoke ring that looked like a bat. Now he was just showing off.

“Something like that.”

“Well, fat lot that did him. Shop’s been MIA ever since I got recommissioned—maybe earlier. All I remember is, I had a double shot espresso there the night before that gig you helped me with, got blown up like two weeks later, and when I’m back to my good old dead self, the shop looks like it got exploded too. What the hell went on in this city that week?”

“War,” Neku said grimly.

“And you won, didn’t you?” Seven elbowed him in the shoulder. “You’d be one of my types now if you hadn’t.”

“Yeah, I did,” Neku said, throat dry. “Thanks for the chat.”

“You come to our next gig, you hear? You’ve gotta be old enough to drink now. VIP for you ‘n the cute chick you were with. Or, uh, anyone else. Don’t know if asking her would be awkward. She made it out, didn’t she? Please say yes.”

Neku smiled. “She did, and we’re still friends. I’ll ask. She won’t look like how you’re expecting though.”

“Neither do you, not-so-short stack. Now get outta here. I’m gonna finish my drag and get back to setup before Beej screams me out. Later.” Seven snapped his fingers and the cigarette exploded in a puff of blue fiery smoke. “Open invite, Orange, just tell the bouncer ‘golden bat’ at the door.”

Xxx

Neku inhaled. He knew past here was Cadoi, then Miyashita.

Then Cat Street.

Neku passed a small spot under the park underpass where Beat and Rhyme’s flowers had once been placed, leaving behind a tiny finger skateboard. Beat would probably punch him; Rhyme would find it hilarious. He did it to honor his once dead friend. Some kid would probably see it, and abscond with it, and play with it till it broke. Beat’s skateboard, in the hands of some kid passing by—it was fitting.

Neku let his memory walk him the rest of the way to WildKat. It stood as it had since the incident: a broken front window, a door barely hanging on its hinges. How it remained like this almost half a decade without developer intervention was shocking, honestly. Or maybe not, if divine intervention was involved.

Neku inhaled and took a step forward.

Again.

Again.

He carefully swung the door, afraid the whole thing would come off the frame in his hands. It squeaked something awful but hung by a thread.

The inside was worse. Neku should have brought one of his paint masks with him. The place was a fire trap of chipped plaster, dust, and mold. An old safe in the back corner was open on its hinges. The only things that looked clean were the sink, two sealed jars of whole coffee beans, and a single drip carafe, the rest of the row shattered beyond recognition.

Neku’s sketchbook and a mechanical pencil set still sat atop the dust-crusted counter. He’d left them there when he and Beat had returned— the only time Neku stepped foot in the shop when he was alive—to check on the shop.

To check on its owner.

Leaving the sketchbook behind seemed fitting. It was half full of random crap, and half empty, nothing but open promises in the end.

Maybe Neku didn’t need Hanekoma, or CAT, or the old shop. Carefully, he made his way around a splintered bar stool, sidestepped a broken glass pitcher, and hauled himself up on the only stool left in sittable condition.

Reverently, he opened the book. He almost laughed at his fifteen-year-old self’s sketches. The first three pages were ideas for tags around the city. He actually cringed at one.

Then a page of Shiki—a quick sketch, half likely from stolen glances and half from memory, because it was her as herself on the left, and as Eri on the right.

Ideas for Beat’s skateboards.

Architecture sketches

An entire six pages of circles and cubes, shaded with hatching or a blending stump.

Neku turned to the next page.

In handwriting that wasn’t his, scrawled in large block print…

TURN AROUND, DEAR.

Xxx

Neku screamed. It wasn’t one of fear, but frustration. “You slimy, little—” he shrieked, as he spun around in the stool expecting to see a smarmy, fifteen-year-old-looking blonde, if the agelessness of the other UG residents was anything to go by.

Instead, a softly frowning man in his mid-thirties stood behind him.

With blonde fly-away hair.

And strange purple eyes.

And a blue-purple button down with white accents and charcoal slacks.

Neku bit his lower lip, holding back a fury he hadn’t had in years.

“You.”

“I come in peace,” Joshua offered, hands up defensively, glowing slightly. “I wrote that years ago. Now I kind of regret it.” Neku relaxed a little. Joshua would be dramatic enough to do that and scare him when he entered the shop, wouldn’t he?

“Only kind of, though,” Joshua added, pulling a broken chair from the rubble, fixing it with a shake and sitting down beside Neku. “It’s still Imprinted. I’m not in the RG. The note left a bit of me in it. You see it, you see me, too.”

“You been tailing me all day, too?”

“I felt you in the city, but no. Only when I got a text about it.”

Kariya. Of course.

“Your conductor rat me out?”

“He did say you were looking for me. So, might have imprinted on you a bit to push you here.”

“You could have come and—”

“—said hello? No, actually, I can’t. I’m on probation. Can’t enter the RG for a decade. Not the biggest deal for me, mind, but… humans don’t live near as long as things like I do. I needed you to come to me. Glad that thing still works.” He tapped the notebook, his hand clipping through a page or two like he wasn’t all there.

Neku exhaled. “I trust you, you know. Still don’t forgive you, but I do trust you.”

“I know. I appreciate you said it aloud, but I know.”

“You look better when your clothes actually fit.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve gotten better at keeping up with me,” Joshua said with a bit of a grin.

“You’ve slowed down in your age, you old fart.”

“Old? Fart?” Joshua pouted, and where there had been a well-put-together adult sat a petulant teenager in the same attire, now oversized to the point of baggy. He looked as the Reapers did—unaged.

“At least now you fit in with the rest of your underlings,” Neku huffed.

Joshua frowned. “I wish I did, honestly.” Quietly, he stared off, past Neku to the empty kitchen.

“Miss him too?”

“More than you,” Joshua shot back.

“Didn’t have many friends?”

“Comes with the job.”

Neku rolled a pencil between his fingers. He’d caught the proverbial tail and didn’t know what to do with it. Joshua was here and clearly knew just as much as Neku did about his former idol’s whereabouts. They sat in silence as Joshua’s likely million-yen watch ticked away.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Neku replied flatly.

“You’re no fun, Neku,” Joshua needled. “Fine. Look, Sanae liked you, more than just the fact that you were my Proxy. Hell, I’m surprised he helped you at all, knowing what you represented in my Game. You were the bad guy.”

Joshua slunk in the only-until-recently broken bar seat, kicking at a shattered tile with an awfully expensive sneaker. When he couldn’t quite reach, his form shifted back to that of an adult, flinging the chipped tile aside like a petulant child. “Neku, I need you.”

“Like you needed me to destroy Shibuya.”

Joshua exhaled, wisps of golden hair fluttering as he stared at anything but Neku. “I’ve been trying to find Hanekoma for years. Every moment I’m not here keeping the city together, I’m traveling to find him. You wouldn’t understand, but I need you to get a lock on him.”

“You’re dimension hopping.”

Joshua sat straight up, his too-long legs hitting the café bar as he did so. “Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing at his knee. “Too tall for my own good. But how? How could you even know that?”

Neku pointed to the safe at the back corner of the café, still just as ajar as he left it when he found the key pin with Beat back in the game. “Mr. H. left me a book of notes: on the game, on angels, all of it.” Neku scrolled through his phone. “I used to keep it on me, thinking it would help me somehow, someday. Eventually, I just scanned it all.”

“Gimme,” Joshua demanded, and the phone was in his hands. Neku watched in awe at the Composer’s speed reading. “I know he kept notes for the Angels, but this wasn’t for them—it was for you. Where’s the real deal?”

“My apartment.”

“Address. Specific location. I’m talking ‘fourth floor, third bedroom, under the red futon next to my stack of- ‘”

Neku cut him off quickly, rattling off his exact address and where he hid the book. Joshua held out a free hand, and in a moment, it materialized with the softest of thunks, pages fluttering in Joshua’s fingertips. “Be glad I’m on good terms with the Composer of Taito Ward,” Joshua admonished, pointing with the small hand-bound journal. “Otherwise I would have sent you home to go get it yourself.”

“What, are you going to track down Hanekoma with this?”

“No, of course not,” Joshua snorted, standing upright, shaking himself once to completely dissipate any plaster shavings or broken chips from his clothing.

“You are.”

Xxx

Neku watched in awe as Joshua’s back bloomed with light, a pair of massive swan-like silver-white wings settling on his back, iridescent with hints of lavender as he shook them loose. Before Neku could think, Hanekoma’s journal was thrust into his hands, and Joshua had him in a position he’d later call The Little Spoon of Death. With a jerk backwards, the two fell through and landed precisely where they’d been before, except the shop was in clean, working order, jazz playing on the radio, and a familiar voice humming tunelessly along with the guitar.

“Heya, Josh. Back so soon?”

Neku blinked and almost cried when he saw the man behind the counter. “H-Hanekoma?!? Mr. H?”

“One of,” Hanekoma said with a shrug. “Not the one you’re looking for though.”

Neku tried to surge forward to give the man (angel?) a hug but was held firmly in place by Joshua’s murderous grip around his waist. “Let go,” Neku whined through gritted teeth.

“Not a good idea, Boss,” Hanekoma chided. “You don’t want to get stuck in the wrong place.”

Neku let himself slacken. “I can get stuck?”

“Sure as the rain ruining my day,” Hanekoma agreed. “When you’re in the right place, you’ll know.”

“Can you help?”

“Can I? Sure. Will I? No. He’s a hellion. You’re never going to find him anyway.”

“Isn’t he another you?”

“You wouldn’t say the same thing if you met you from this world,” Joshua said, exasperated. “I wonder why the book sent us here.”

“This is where you hid after Minamimoto tried to erase you, isn’t it?” Neku asked. He flipped through the journal. “He hid somewhere high to wait for you. Because he thought this Hanekoma would turn him into the Angel Police or something.”

“I did,” Hanekoma said proudly. “Can’t have me ruining my good name.”

“Fuck off,” Neku spat at the barista. “You’re not Hanekoma.”

“I’m the part of Hanekoma that actually follows our rules.”

Joshua squeezed Neku tighter. “Hold on and keep thinking of that.”

“What—whyyyyyyyyyy?!” Neku screamed as sound escaped him. The whole universe lurched underneath as Joshua resumed pinging around between alternate realities, barely stopping to breathe.

“Focus!” Joshua ordered him through the din of dizzying WildKat cafes, Shibuya skylines, and for a brief moment, possibly the cold depths of space.

“THERE IS NOTHING TO FOCUS ON YOU DAFT ZOMBIE!” Neku shouted back, feeling his insides out and outsides in before the two bounced off a massive plate of glass and went rolling out to nowhere. Joshua pulled his wings around them, breaking the fall as they bounced a few times to the sounds of shattering glass.

They stilled. Neku could hear his own breathing and feel his heart jumping in his chest. Disquietingly, Joshua had neither breath nor a heartbeat, his torso flat against Neku’s back without any noticeable sign of life. Neku quietly filed that part under “disgusting, do not remind” and wiggled a little to loosen Joshua’s grip on his midsection.

“Hang on,” Joshua hissed out. “Easy does it.”

“That was easy?”

“You should see hard,” Joshua said, smirking as he raised an eyebrow. “And it might surprise you but… I think we’re here.”

Joshua rocked on the shoulders of his wings, pushing them both upright and parting a crack for them to see from.

The world consisted of a single, stained-glass building in a shattered-glass sky. The ground crunched with hardened paint beneath them.

“Somewhere high, following the rules… and nothing to focus on. Neku, sometimes, only sometimes, am I reminded of your genius.”

“I am in elbow-to-face range,” Neku reminded him.

“Yes, dear, and you’d best stay that way unless you want to swallow glass,” Joshua pointed out. “I’m too concerned about flying through that with a passenger, let alone someone alive, so we’re going to walk in tandem to the entrance and pray there’s no tricks along the way.”

Neku wanted to argue he wasn’t much for prayer but being cocooned in angel wings wasn’t doing him any favors in that department.

“Well at least I’m getting the inspiration I was looking for,” Neku muttered as he marveled through the tiniest of openings in between Joshua’s feathers. They both shuddered as pellets of colored glass dogged them like rain, Neku grimacing with each step.

“I think that is this world’s rain,” Joshua said aloud. “What? You’re thinking too loud. Either shut up or I’ll nitpick your thoughts. Last you want to do is swallow glass talking out loud, anyway.”

They walked in silence for what felt like eternity, roughly matching steps so their wing-cocoon tank didn’t topple. Peppered by the shards of rain, Neku was slowly getting a better view of the world outside his feathered umbrella.

The tower reminded him of Pork City, though it stretched upwards through molten clouds that burned red hot like liquid glass being worked at a forge. The whole thing was stained glass of infinite color—giant, angular panes crossed and reinforced by black, wrought iron-like supports, with sharp points sticking out at odd angles from the structure. 

“I think so too,” Joshua agreed with Neku’s wandering thoughts. “That’s Pork City, all right—made from Reaper wings. It looks like a gorgeous prison. A prison all the same, though,” he added, sighing.

Soon enough, the entrance loomed overhead, its maw of black webbing haphazardly stuffed with angular pastel glass. The tinkle of the rain bounced off the overhang as Joshua ever-so-slowly folded his wings behind him.

“I think you’re safe, for now,” he said, with the authoritativeness betraying his true age. “I promise, I’m not going to let you die here—you’re still holding Sanae’s book.”

“Because that’s all you care about,” Neku grumbled, to Joshua’s pout. “Oh, come off. I’m going to make up for all the teasing you did to me. Now let’s hope there’s an elevator in there or you’ll be flying us up the stairs.”

Xxx

“Lights are on; nobody’s home,” Joshua said, looking around as the two shuffled inside. “Okay, I’m letting go.”

“You’re what!” Neku shrieked, breathing heavy as Joshua smirked, unhooking his hands from around Neku’s waist. “Didn’t that other Hanekoma say it was a bad idea?”

“Oh, it’s a cataclysmically terrible idea. You’ll be trapped here forever now.”

“Joshua–I—you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

“I mean, of course. I’m an ass, but nobody’s that heartless.”

“You murdered me. Twice.”

“I also brought you back to life, so no complaints,” Joshua snipped back. “Now, what have we here?”

Neku sighed, reminded of exactly how aggravating the little god could be. He looked around the entry foyer. The walls inside the building were a blinding white, almost piercing in their contrast to the stained glass on the outer walls of the monstrous tower. “I think this thing is alive,” Neku muttered.

“It’s not,” Joshua said, almost too quickly. “Or, rather, it’s as alive as Sanae or I am.”

“So it’s, what, an angel?”

Joshua kneeled down to touch the floor, a soft white abalone with a pearlescent sheen. “Yes. And we just entered the mouth.” Neku shuddered. “Oh, it’s not really that big a deal, Neku,” Joshua said, standing up and tsk-ing him with a finger. “This building is no more going to digest you than a wooden one; though I’m sure you’ve seen trees grow around and consume cars and houses.”

“Not helping,” Neku grumbled. “Hey, I’m not sure if it’s the retina damage, but are the walls bleeding paint?”

Joshua tucked his massive wings up high on his back, where they still trailed behind him like a couture dress, and shimmy-hopped over to the interior wall. “Oh, it’s probably retina damage,” he said cheerily, “you’re looking at pure light after all. But you’re not wrong.” Joshua swiped his hand along the wall, coming off it with a smear of mustard yellow acrylic paint. He blew on it, drying it immediately, and peeled it off like a face mask. “Must be the elevator hidden in the wall and… here we go.”

With a squelching sound like wrenching a tooth out of its socket—Neku wondering with a shudder that if that actually was a tooth—Joshua dislodged the panel, revealing a plush, red-velvet-lined elevator speckled with flecks of paint.

“If that’s a tongue, I’m out of here,” Neku complained.

“It’s not a tongue,” Josh said with a suspicious grin, stuffing himself inside with his wings still exposed. Neku shuffled and squeezed in, a massive feather poking him in the backside. The doors closed. “It’s the esophagus, Neku.”

Xxx

“Can’t you put those away?” Neku asked, after what felt like an eternity of being smothered by a giant chicken.

Joshua sighed, looking more serious than Neku was ever used to. “Yes, but I won’t.”

Neku expected him to elaborate, but Joshua merely went silent, hands out and open and feathers fluffed up.

Quickly, Neku understood why. It started quietly, a ping and a plop and a hiss, and became louder and more intense with each passing second. A few moments later, Neku was positive he wasn’t hearing things; it sounded like rain pouring from a gutter except… the rain was a stream of fire-engine red and the gutter was the walls of the elevator. The liquid pooled in the velvet flooring like blood matting the fur on a wounded, furry animal.

“Neku, move in before I make you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as Joshua threw his wings up around them again, reaching a hand out of the fluffy shield to pull the emergency stop on the elevator panel. Neku didn’t even realize how fast they’d been ascending until they screeched to a halt.

“The walls are bleeding.”

“Paint,” Joshua replied. “It’s just paint.”

“You also said the building was an angel,” Neku reminded him testily. “What’s to say that this isn’t—”

“Angel blood melts like acid,” Joshua replied flatly. Neku didn’t know if he were telling the truth or not, but the soles of his shoes, now caked in it, weren’t dissolving.

Joshua pulled him close, wrapping his left arm around his shoulders and left wing over that like a shield. Neku couldn’t see anything but white, but he felt a jolt of exertion and heard Joshua swear low.

“Neku, dear, stay close and don’t scream.”

In the time it took him to blink, the Joshua that Neku was familiar with vanished. Every pore of the elevator was leaking paint in gushes now; thankfully blues and greens and hot pinks, to put Neku slightly more at ease, balanced evenly with the remainder of the free space taken up by living, swirling paint.

Noise.

One giant one.

It was silent and snake-like, and it dug its claws into the elevator door, wrenching it open without a sound save the rushing air.

The elevator had stopped between two floors, and the Noise slipped out the bottom to slide down to the floor below.

Move, it demanded of him. Drowning in paint doesn’t belong in your obituary.

Neku more or less knew the beast had been Joshua, but the voice in his head finally cemented it.

“I’ll break my legs.”

“I’ll catch you.”

Neku didn’t even register the response said aloud, slipping down the paint-soaked velvet and landing in a nest of color-streaked feathers.

“See?”

“I’m drenched,” Neku grumped, and then realized he wasn’t. His and Joshua’s clothes were pristine again, though the wild streaks of paint still covered Neku’s arms and Joshua’s feathers.

“Not getting rid of it all. I don’t know if the building is trying to attack us and I’d rather we still smell like it.”

“You think?” Neku asked sarcastically. He looked around the room. Paint had pooled in oil-slick puddles on the floor and was leaking out cracks in the walls. Neku heard dripping from overhead, looking up to see globs of color slowly plopping from the ceiling. The acrylic paint’s own drying-to-plastic properties were likely the only thing preventing a flood of multicolored rain on them.

Carefully, Neku hot-footed around the deepest puddles and made his way to the stained glass on the perimeter.

“We are really high up,” he breathed out, looking at the world below.

Joshua fluttered, and landed gracefully next to him. “We are. Care not to break the glass.”

“I’m not that—”

“—without me,” Joshua continued, barreling for the window, grabbing Neku as he shattered an entire pane.

For a moment, time stood still, not that it mattered much in this place to begin with. The triangular pastel shards exploded out with them on the side of the building and Neku swore he heard it scream. The shards from the broken window floated around them, glittering against the glass rain pelting them from above. Joshua pulled Neku in tighter, wings curled.

“Duck.” That was Neku’s only warning as Joshua opened his wings to propel them up against the pellets of crystalline rain before hurling himself sideways, crashing into another exterior wall.

“Human bodies are too frail,” Joshua tsk’ed at him once they finished rolling in a 20 centimeters deep pool of paint. With a hand wave, Neku found himself as clean as he could be, and free of scratches.

Paint sluiced down from their entry hole, likely streaking the outside of the building as the room began to drain. Neku shook the stars from his eyes as Joshua flicked his fingers across his button-down shirt, sending the liquid colors away as he did so.

His wings were still streaked with neon.

The room had no stairs, no elevator shaft, from what Neku could see. It was just glass around the outside and a concrete floor and ceiling. Scattered about the room were pillars and flat concrete pieces, some wall-to-ceiling, but most about half height—like an art gallery.

The entire room, save the glass, was completely covered in art.

Graffiti.

Classical.

Renaissance.

Ukiyo-e

Cubist.

It was one step short of being an eyesore. And as the paint drained out, pouring down the exterior side of the building, Neku could see the floor, too, covered with incredible works of art. He felt almost embarrassed when he moved his foot, leaving behind a hot-pink footprint on impressionist lilies.

“They’re just copies,” Joshua said sternly, looking around. “Technically precise, but nothing original except in how it’s all mashed together.”

Neku nodded. “I just stepped in Monet.”

“Well, a good copy. Poor Sanae. Stay on your guard, Neku; he’s up here somewhere. And he’s probably not going to look like what you’re used to.”

“Like how you were a dragon?” Neku asked.

“His street art handle isn’t CAT for nothing.”

“I’m assuming it’s not a housecat, then,” Neku hissed back, suddenly concerned. Both of them winced on hearing a howl.

Quiet, Joshua ordered inside his head. And stay behind me.

Neku nodded and the two wove their way through the gallery, following the sound of growls and irritated hisses. Joshua slowly peeled around a corner, motioning for Neku to follow.

A great graffiti-winged panther that Neku could only assume was Mr. Hanekoma glared back through acid-paint eyes.

Xxx

Joshua shoved Neku roughly aside, striding confidently to the massive graffiti beast.

“Hello, old friend,” Joshua said, tired and aged himself.

The creature screamed. The concrete half-wall Neku had been cowering behind exploded into fragments of color and shrapnel.

The beast froze, sniffed. It took one step, then another, leaning its gargantuan head over the broken divider to look down at Neku.

Neku had never been terrified before. Even in the Game, he’d had periods when he was scared, adrenaline coursing through him like the drug it was. But this abject fear to witness a man he trusted—who he might even consider a friend—be reduced to a mindless abomination drooling tempera paint overhead was sobering.

The beast opened its maw wide. Joshua jumped to his side in a flash, throwing up a wing to protect him.

Hanekoma tilted his head a little, reminiscent of a puppy. “Ne….ku?”

Xxx

Neku and Joshua watched over the next…however long it took. Hanekoma paced, occasionally knocking over a bucket of paint or, in one case, slamming into one of the concrete half-wall dividers with his flank as his graffiti form jittered and convulsed.

He’s coming back around, Joshua hissed in Neku’s head. At this point, we just need to wait.

Neku nodded. Joshua still held a wing up and an iron grip on the other’s arm and waist, but it was with good reason. Hanekoma screamed again, rupturing the concrete and Neku’s eardrums. For a few moments, Neku saw nothing but static, before the searing pain faded.

“—Sanae, Sanae, come back to us,” Joshua pleaded in croaking whispers as Neku’s hearing returned. “Please. Your attacks are only hurting him, see? I just had to completely repair his eardrums.”

The cat-beast howled again, knocking Neku utterly unconscious this time.

Xxx

Neku came to on the floor of the gallery, slowly taking stock of the room around him through hazy peripheral vision. Most of the dividers were at least punched through, if not entirely destroyed. A cold hand covered most of his forward vision, however.

“Neku, can you hear me?” Hanekoma’s gruff voice was twanged with concern.

“He should; I fixed his eardrums twice in one eternity,” Joshua grumped.

“Mister….H?” Neku croaked.

“J, make him some water.”

Slowly, a sturdy arm pulled Neku to sitting, leaning his body back into something warm, but lacking breath and a pulse. It was too broad to be Joshua, confirmed when the other hand slipped away to take an offered bowl of water.

Hanekoma was in human form again. Human-ish, at least.

“Drink, kiddo.”

“I’m twenty,” Neku protested before coughing up a little blood, realizing that was the first full sentence out of his mouth to the former barista.

“Hey, all humans are kids to me,” Hanekoma laughed. “J, he needs his throat patched up too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joshua whined, leaning forward to place three fingers against Neku’s neck. Immediately, Neku felt a wave of calm wash over, and his throat felt clear. “Now drink, before I whip you up an IV. I can patch you up, but I’m not magically refilling you with lost fluids. I don’t have the brainspace right now for that.”

Neku slowly downed the water, leaning heavily into Hanekoma. “I don’t have the brainspace to brain for at least a week.”

“I don’t think any of us do,” Hanekoma added. “I’m not even sure how I’m back to any kind of sanity as it is.”

Joshua rolled his eyes and refilled the water bowl with a gesture. “Enough of you was sane enough to be worried.”

“You brought a living human as bait, J! Of course I was worried.”

“It worked.”

“That doesn’t make it—” Hanekoma hissed, squeezing Neku’s shoulders a little too hard.

“I missed you,” Neku cut in. “It looked like all of Shibuya did, even though they never knew who you were.”

“Of course they knew,” Hanekoma said gently. “I was the local barista, ready with a good cup ‘o joe. I was the artist that painted the town red.”

“All the Reapers I spoke to had nothing but praise for you,” Neku continued. “I ran all over the city today finding that out.”

Neku felt the single loud thump of a heartbeat from the ethereal body keeping him upright. “Really now?”

“None of them knew you had a connection to the game either,” Neku continued, getting a second wind. “They just praised CAT’s art and WildKat’s coffee.”

“Hmph.”

“Won’t you come back, Sanae?” Joshua asked, a pleading smile on his lips. “It’s been too long.”

“I wish I could, J.”

“What do you mean you wish? You’re an Angel, for Someone’s sake!”

“Er, about that,” Hanekoma said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m… well. I’m not not an angel, I guess. But this is my punishment.”

“You’re definitely under supervision,” Joshua said testily. “Your warden was more annoying than anything else.”

“I take offense to that,” Hanekoma’s voice reverberated through all three of them.

Joshua nearly growled. “You know, you could have skipped the theatrics. If you wanted us gone, you could have Erased us, or just booted us out.”

Neku blinked the last of the daze away. “Hold on. I’m missing something here.”

“Remember how we passed a million billion WildKats and Sanaes and Shibuyas trying to find this place?” Joshua grumbled. “And how Sanae knew what we were doing? Angels have a singular hive mind. Mostly. I’m not actually an Angel, mind you—sort of just a hatchling, an infant. But he’s a real-deal Higher Plane beastie.”

Neku frowned, putting up a finger, lost in thought. Hanekoma went to speak, only for Joshua to shush him.

“Neku’s smart enough to put the pieces together. Give him a moment.”

“I gave him at least a concussion, if not brain damage, J.”

“Which I fixed.”

“The building.” Neku’s face sharpened into a frown.

Joshua and Hanekoma turned their heads to Neku, now sitting upright unassisted as he bopped his finger to his own internal music, slotting what he knew in place. “You said the building was an angel. This building, this whole thing, is this dimension’s Mr. H. All of the other yous are mad at you, aren’t they?”

Hanekoma nodded, exhaling a sigh. “I’m… sort of still an angel. But they cut me off from the Hive and took my inspiration. I can’t leave until I have them back.”

“I’m going to have a word with Management.” Joshua hoisted himself off the shrapnel-pocked floor, stomping a foot. “Elevator, if you please.”

“J, you’re crazy.”

“Aware. So?”

The three heard a ding as a concrete cube rose from the floor, the elevator with it. It opened with a smooth motion, the door already fixed but the interior still caked in paint.

“Am I the hostage negotiator, or can all of us go?” Joshua asked the elevator, irritated, arms crossed and wing-feathers fluffed in annoyance. In response, the elevator ballooned sideways, expanding the interior to accommodate three adults and one massive pair of wings.

“All right,” Joshua sighed out. “Everybody in.”

Xxx

The elevator hummed pleasantly and dinged, opening back up to the pearly-white entryway. The large front doors—triangular shards of crisscrossing stained glass—were blocked off by an aggressive black chain and padlock. A gleaming solid front desk sat at the entryway with a bored Hanekoma flipping lazily through a completely blank magazine. He shot them a grin; Neku noticed he was missing a tooth.

“Ah, hello. Thanks for giving me one heck of a sore throat, J.”

“Can it. I’m busting him out,” Joshua snapped, straight to the point.

Hanekoma put down the magazine, all high-gloss and solid-white pages. “Oh? How?”

Joshua pointed at the door, the chain and lock melting like acid under his gaze. “The front door, how else? Unless you want a few more teeth popped out.”

“That isn’t what I meant, J,” Hanekoma-behind-the-counter said simply. “Your me isn’t an angel right now. You take him out of here and he’s a mortal. I give him a few decades, tops. Stay and he’ll pay his price eventually; won’t you, you sorry excuse for a me?”

Joshua’s Sanae wrung his hands. “I’ll head back up. I did say you didn’t need to come for me, J.”

“If you leave before your sentence is up… you’re mortal?” Joshua asked, his voice cracking a little.

“Yeah, sorry Boss. I’ll take the long way ‘round.”

Neku frowned, scratching at some dried paint on his cheek. “Hang on. What is his sentence exactly? Josh, you said yours was being banned from the RG, but nothing stopped you from letting me see the UG.”

Joshua broke out into a nasty grin. “Ohhhhhhhh Neku, dear. I need to have you get brain damage more often.”

“No,” Neku interjected flatly.

“Aw, it was only a temporary inconvenience. Anyway, Sanae—either of you—what is his exact punishment from the Higher Plane? I want the full contract.”

The glass world’s Sanae slid him the blank magazine. “They were pretty thorough.”

Xxx

When Neku turned his back on the front desk, a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table, all in different shades of blinding alabaster, existed under the overhang just to the side of the entryway. The tinkle of stained-glass-shard rain peppered the overhang roof and a rainbow of garish light streaked in between the storm clouds outside. Joshua lifted his wings, draped them over the back of the sofa, and got to reading.

The only sounds were the tinkling of the rain, Joshua’s ever-ticking watch, and the occasional turn of a page.

Neku tapped his fingers on his jeans. “Can I do anything?”

“No,” muttered Joshua, half in thought flipping through the plain pages.

“Haven’t you done enough?” asked the bored warden, slouching at his desk.

“I could… clean the elevator,” Neku offered, trying to figure out something to do. He was definitely caught in some sort of celestial war, played out in miniature. Everything was over his head right now as he looked sideways to the glass-world Hanekoma. He looked the same as all the others—rolled-up button down, slacks, waistcoat, watch, sandals, sunglasses, messy hair—though he did seem a bit more… shiny, like light was reflecting off of him. Neku didn’t want to consider what it meant for him to both be standing at the front counter as well as being the entire building.

“You’d do that?” the glass angel questioned, confused.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m just standing here. And it’s partially my fault that happened. More so if it’s hurting you.”

“Angels aren’t people, Neku,” he replied, handing him a bucket of soapy water from nowhere. “We don’t feel pain.”

“You’re clearly in pain,” Neku shot back in a whisper after Joshua rustled the magazine loudly, clearing his throat in a way reminding Neku to not disturb him. “Let me help.”

“Help, huh?” The glass Hanekoma smiled, the missing tooth returning to its space after a moment of static. “That’s a new thought.”

“Nobody’s ever helped you before?” Neku asked, concerned, as the elevator dinged and opened. He walked to it, both Sanaes following. One handed the other another bucket, then made one for himself. The three went inside and Neku took to the floor, carefully washing down the carpeting. The door slid closed and the three worked in silence.

“Not me, no,” the glass one admitted. “Not most of us. Angels don’t interact with your kind, or they really aren’t supposed to. I think some of us are jealous of the us from your world.” Another beat of silence. “I know I am.”

“Then why don’t you leave?” Neku asked.

“The other mes would make me a traitor, same as that one.” He jabbed his thumb at his duplicate. “In all honesty, I think it’s better than wasting away with only our own thoughts for company. All of us know it too—only that one said the quiet part out loud. There’s a small and finite number of angels, but an infinite number of each of us. One broken hive is a massive blow to the higher plane—kind of contradictory when you realize we run on Imagination. Think about it for five seconds and—”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Neku cut in, satisfied with the state of the floor, moving on to an aggressive teal spot on the wall. “If you run on Imagination but you’re made up as a ton of fragments that all have to think alike, any dissent and your own self turns on you. Seems a bit counterintuitive to have it that way.”

“The only possible outcome is to break apart from within,” Hanekoma agreed, but Neku wasn’t sure which one of them said it. Inside the elevator, the glass one didn’t have the odd shine he’d had in the foyer. At this point, he wasn’t sure it mattered.

Xxx

Neku and both Hanekoma exited the elevator, Joshua still pouring over the magazine. “They really did try and close every possible loophole,” he muttered. “I can’t see a way out… shy of killing you,” he added, looking up at the two angels. “And now I can’t even tell you apart.”

One of them smiled. “Neku just opened one up for you.”

“Oh?”

“Clause 16b.2.”

“Yes, ‘should the warden be unfit for service, Hanekoma is to serve the remainder of the sentence under a new warden.’ I was going to kill you and claim myself warden.”

“There’s no way the Higher Power would allow that. He’d just be transferred,” the other one said. Joshua raised an eyebrow to the first one—his Hanekoma. He slid his eyes between the two of them and the glass one scratched the back of his neck.

“Sit. I’ll get us something to drink.”

Neku shrugged and practically threw himself into one of the chairs, sighing as he sank into it. It was soft and warm and the light pinging of the rain overhead was lulling him to sleep.

“Stay awake,” Hanekoma ordered, pinching his elbow. “You started going see-through when you passed out last time—it’s what jolted me to consciousness. You aren’t coming all this way just for me to see you fade to nothing, Neku.”

Neku jolted upright, just as a steaming cup of coffee was placed in his hands. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” the glass Hanekoma said, determined. A third settee appeared between the other two; their captor-slash-host sat in it, placing a tray of coffee, tea, and snacks on the table between them. “And anyway, I’m unfit to be Hanekoma’s warden now. The Higher Plane may come for me soon. Though, soon here could be eons off. I know my time doesn’t run at the same pace as most of the other dimensions; that’s why I was picked to watch him. Joshua, they would never accept you under probation, but… Neku—you seem to be a favorite of upper management. Transferring to you shouldn’t be a problem. Hand him the contract, J.”

Neku blinked a bit of the daze from his eyes, downing the beverage. It felt like more than mere coffee, a solid glass of liquid courage, emboldening him.

Joshua hesitated, but passed the blank, glossy magazine sideways to Neku. He then stared down at the tray of offered snacks and carefully picked out a chessboard cookie, frowning at it, before biting the head off the knight’s horse.

Words swirled on the paper in Neku’s peripheral vision before he could see them straight off. “Can I get a translation?” he asked meekly, looking at the mess of block print before him.

“Did I not write it in Japanese?” Glass-Hanekoma asked.

“That’s not what I meant,” Neku sulked. “I can’t read lawyer.”

Joshua craned his neck sideways. “It’s a transferal of ownership contract. Standard language, except… hm. Neku, would you want to be an angel?”

Neku scrunched up his face. “Seeing what you deal with? No. I have enough trouble with artist’s block as it is. I’d rather it not be fatal.”

“Take out paragraphs eight and twenty, then.”

“Wait, this would have…”

“Made you one of us, yeah,” Joshua cut Neku off. “It does mean that if Hanekoma didn’t finish his sentence before you died, he would be mortal; so some sort of transferal clause needs to be added.”

Hanekoma snatched up the magazine, flicking it. “Consider it done. Sign and get out of here before I’m taken away too.” He grinned slyly. “Maybe I can keep the domino chain going. Wouldn’t the upper management just love that?”

Neku flicked his eyes to Joshua. “I still trust you, Josh. How’s it look?”

“We can take him with us. You’re his warden ‘til you die or his sentence is done, then you can renegotiate angelhood if you want.”

“But… what is his sentence?” Neku asked, looking between the now indistinguishable Hanekoma.

“I have to re-earn my Imagination: the human way.”

“No magic?”

“Some magic. About as much as Josh has. Which is a lot compared to you. Very little compared to before. And none at all when I’m not near my warden… though I’m not sure how near near is.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the second Hanekoma said, squeezing the first’s shoulder. “I’ve given you a little extra juice on your way. I’m sure they’ll take mine from me anyway. It’s enough to manifest your wings again, at least. Now get out of here, before there’s bigger problems. All of us is already tattling.”

“Bunch of assholes,” Hanekoma hissed under his breath.

“We both were, too. Well, me at least. Think you were always the black sheep. Now, sign and get.”

Joshua plucked a pen from nowhere, handing it to Neku who turned to the angelic twins. “You trust me?”

“With your life,” both Hanekoma said with a nod.

Neku signed with a flick of his wrist, the pull of slumber taking him again. He could barely hear Hanekoma and Joshua shout something as they hauled him upright at the torso.

With a jerk that felt like someone had tied a rope around his waist and then yanked on it from behind, Neku blinked his eyes open to Hanekoma’s shop, as destroyed as it was when they’d left it. He gasped for breath, completely winded and woozy, the world spinning around him until he succumbed, sliding out of Hanekoma and Joshua’s shared grip to bounce on the cracked tile floor.

Xxx

Hanekoma frowned, flapping feathered wings he forgot he’d missed. “J, you know you can’t throw yourself around the mortals—not like that. Not even to someone like him.” Carefully, Hanekoma pulled Neku out of the rubble, flinging his body over a shoulder. “Be glad he’s just passed out. If he stayed a moment longer in that dimension, he would have been gone. You could have killed him or worse.”

“But I didn’t,” Joshua insisted. “I needed him.”

“Did he know the risks?” Hanekoma asked roughly, finally free to yell at his former boss-and-ward without Neku overhearing. “He didn’t. You never told him.”

“You said in your notes that I’d be a strain on him. He had to know what that meant.”

“There’s a difference in knowing what your toned-down presence would do over a week versus what the full force of your power would do to him in a few hours,” Hanekoma chided. “He may have known the former, but you certainly didn’t tell him the latter.”

“What’s your point?” Joshua asked, watching Hanekoma shift Neku’s unconscious form into a more comfortable carry.

“My point is, stop breaking things, J. Stop treating everything like a broken bone that’s healing the wrong way. Not everything has to be shattered even more to fix it.”

“You were imprisoned by the Angels! All for trying to protect this city!” Joshua protested.

“I would have finished my sentence eventually,” Sanae countered in a calm and even tone. “I may have been in that place for eons, but it was—what? Three years here, maybe?”

“Five,” Joshua whimpered with a pout.

Hanekoma’s eyes flicked up and down Joshua, seemingly searching for something. “I’m putting Neku down in a room and warding it. He needs to recoup.”

Hanekoma turned on his heel to the shop backrooms, leaving Joshua standing confused in the mound of rubble.

Xxx

Whatever Hanekoma was doing, he was taking his sweet time. But Joshua heeded the barista’s words and waited, rolling his shoulders and slowly ratcheting his own wings back into the ether. Bored, he made himself a broom from Imagination and began idly sweeping up the chipped plaster and shattered tile. Eventually, Hanekoma returned to the shop portion of the building, eyeing Joshua.

“Physical labor? That’s a first.”

“I… I feel,” Joshua said, stopping to roll the broom handle in his fingertips. “I feel responsible.”

Hanekoma lowered his shades, peering over them. “Responsible. Who are you and what have you done with J?”

“I grew up, Sanae. Someone had to. You weren’t here. I have a new Conductor and Producer now.”

“What, so I’m outta a job?”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Joshua said, almost pleading. “You just don’t have any obligations. Other than your sentence, I guess.”

“With Neku as my warden,” Hanekoma sighed out. “You didn’t need to plan a jailbreak, J. You’ve waited longer than five years for things before. It’s hardly an eye-blink to people like us.”

Joshua slunk to the floor, defeated and boneless as he slid down the broom handle. A small cloud of debris puffed up around him as he went.

“Drama queen,” Hanekoma tsk’ed as he joined his former colleague on the floor, nesting his wings around himself. “I can’t say this isn’t nice though. Missed ya, J. Being honest, I don’t remember much at all from that place, anyway. Could’ve been a long time there before I became myself again without your little stunt.”

Joshua didn’t answer.

They sat in silence a few moments, then Hanekoma choked back a cry as his coworker—his friend—grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around him just under his wings. Hanekoma flapped them in surprise as Joshua buried his head in the down.

Angel and Reaper wings were their Soul; one didn’t just touch them—not without explicit permission. To touch someone’s wings meant someone else could feel what they did. Feel their joy, their disgust, their pain, or all at once.

Hanekoma didn’t pull away. He could hear—just barely, but it was there—Joshua sobbing silently into his back. Joshua was, for the first time in his so-called-life, showing Hanekoma a vulnerability he didn’t know the other even possessed. Slowly, the barista relaxed both sets of shoulders, taking on more and more of Joshua’s weight until his Composer was literally leaning on him as much as metaphorically.

Seconds ticked away from Joshua’s Pegasso crystal-quartz watch, which turned to minutes, then a solid half hour. Slowly, Hanekoma felt the weight lift.

“You let me,” Joshua said, a bit hoarse, patting the down where wing phased through clothes.

“You needed it, J. Pain shared is pain halved. I was happy to listen.”

“You didn’t want to be saved,” Joshua said sharply. “Forgive me for feeling like you were ungrateful. But… you weren’t. You were protecting me from the angels and a sentence like yours. You were a fall guy.”

“Yes,” Hanekoma said slowly. “I didn’t want you to suffer, too. Not being visible to the RG is hardly a penalty compared to what I have.”

“Pain shared is pain halved,” Joshua threw back at him, wiping snot off his face. If he’d been in his teenage form, he would have looked like just another kid. But Joshua was an ugly crier, and as an adult, he just looked silly—more so with a few errant feathers from Hanekoma’s back stuck to his dripping snot and hair.

“Wash up—the backroom sink works,” Hanekoma insisted, flapping his wings a few times to get rid of any other loose feathers. “I need to do some tidying, anyway.”

Joshua reverently ran his fingers through the shoulder of Hanekoma’s left wing. “Clean the shop all you want; you know all about me and dirt. But leave this part to me.”

Xxx

“I kinda expected more, Sanae.” Joshua leaned in the doorframe, pristine as her always presented himself to the public.

“I’m not exactly going to waste my magic, Boss.” Hanekoma went back to wiping down the countertops with a wet rag. The only change Joshua could see was all the broken furniture piled in a corner, with the floor debris in an equally uncoordinated pile.

“The human way?” Joshua asked with a smirk.

“If I’m not your Producer, I need a little art project to keep me busy.”

“Wouldn’t really call fixing a coffee shop art,” Joshua scoffed.

“It’s not not art, though,” Hanekoma countered, flinging the wet rag on a shoulder and smiling at the dented, but still functional, kettle on the burner, whistling away. “Tea?”

“Mm,” Joshua hummed with a nod. “Also, Neku’s phone was ringing nonstop.” He pulled his own from a pocket. “Oh. It’s past ten PM. Someone’s probably been wondering what happened to him. Least it’s still the same day we left.” Joshua cracked a small smile. “Gone for a week and the mortals think you’re dead or something.”

Hanekoma threw the rag square in Joshua’s face, storming past him to go retrieve the offending cell phone.

Xxx

Hanekoma sat on one of the two useable stools, Joshua behind him on the other, sipping tea from one hand while using the other to pull out stuck feathers. The barista unlocked Neku’s phone, scrolling through twenty missed calls. “Shiki. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

“You planning to call?”

“I should. Neku’s probably going to need a day or more to recuperate. And then you’re going to call his mother and let her know he’s sick with a fever.”

“Can’t. RG people can’t perceive me for another few years, remember? Phone calls included.” He grinned toothily. “You’ll just have to clean up the mess for me.”

Hanekoma sighed, stretching out his wings a little so Joshua could pull out all the powder down stuck from his eons of not taking care of himself, and pressed a familiar name in the missed calls history. “Hello? Shiki?”

“Oh my god, is this the police? Where’s Neku?”

“Shiki,” Hanekoma smiled a little, glad for a familiar voice. “It’s… Hanekoma Sanae—the café shop owner on Cat Street.”

Hanekoma waited patiently as Shiki processed what that meant. “If Neku is dead, I’m wringing a long line of necks. Joshua’s first; something tells me this is his fault.”

Joshua laughed hard enough to slam forward into the angel’s back; Sanae shot him a glare. “Neku is alive, but he’s taken a massive hit of Imagination. He’s probably going to sleep a day or two.”

“But he’s alive.”

“Alive and in no pain, with no injury. Mortals just can’t handle being around a city Composer too long.” Hanekoma glared over his shoulder at a snickering young-looking man in a lilac button down.

“I’m coming over there,” Shiki insisted. “And Joshua better be ready to take a knee to the balls.”

“Unfortunately, you won’t be able to see or hear him, but hang on,” Hanekoma said, pushing back on the deadweight behind him with his wings. “I’m putting you on speaker. Feel free to yell at him—I already have.”

Hanekoma clicked to speakerphone, maximizing the volume and holding the phone out behind him.

“Go ahead, Shiki. He can hear you.”

Shiki took in a deep breath, expelling a gasp of colorfully laced expletives so pointed Joshua’s hair began to catch fire. The moment she was out of breath, she slammed the end-call button with enough force that Joshua’s wings twitched, even within their aether.

“Josh, you’d better be out of my shop before she gets here or you’re going to be in deep shit.”

“I didn’t realize someone who played the Game before could deal that much splash damage,” Joshua complained, patting out the embers on the edges of his loose curls.

“You were human once yourself, J. Now bolt before she sets all of you on fire.”

“Good night to you too,” Joshua grumped, crossing his arms as he slid off the seat, leaving Hanekoma’s wings in a worse looking state than when he’d started. He saluted awkwardly to the sighing barista, disappearing out into the night.

Xxx

“How are you holding up, kiddo?”

Neku rubbed the crust out of his eyes. “What year is it?”

“Same one you were in before this mess.” Hanekoma smiled. “You slept away three days, though. I impersonated you on the phone to your mom and college—hope that’s alright.”

“So it’s…”

“Monday night. Six PM. Josh’s going to stay away from you for a while.”

“That why I feel like shit?”

“Mhmm. You want me to bring you in some food?”

“Bathroom,” Neku complained.

“Think mine still works.”

“You think?”

“Neku, I’m not human. I’ve never needed it.”

Xxx

“So now what?” Neku bit into his burger; nothing Hanekoma made, but then again, his kitchen was mostly still in shambles.

“I guess I rebuild. Maybe I take some art classes at community college.”

“Then I’m helping.”

“No, you’re-”

Neku glared up from his dinner. “That’s not up for debate. I’m your prison warden, remember? I help and in return, you let me paint in here.”

Hanekoma laughed. “You don’t even need to ask permission for that.”

“Oh, so I can tag every wall, floor, and ceiling in this bombed out husk of a deserted island?”

The barista frowned, leaning forward on the counter. “That didn’t get me any closer to having any inspiration, you know.”

“And I think that’s a lie,” Neku replied, crossing his arms. “Josh didn’t see it either. Maybe the individual components were copies, but that space you made in that other place was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Incredible doesn’t even begin to describe it. Nothing we do is truly unique anyway; we’re always working off the backs of those who came before us. It’s what voice we add to that conversation that makes our art what it is and… I should really be following my own advice. Hang on. I’m making a few calls, and you’re not stopping me.”

Neku pulled out his phone and rolled through his contacts list. “Hey, Sho. I’ve got a destroyed café here ripe for a giant-ass chandelier. You in?”

“Neku,” the other end of the line sounded annoyed. “I don’t do electrical.”

“So? You do the sculpture; I’ll get someone else to wire.”

“It’s going to be made of trash.”

“Why do you think I called your ass? Take notes; here’s the address.”

Xxx

“I haven’t done heavy lifting in… forever,” Hanekoma said, wiping actual sweat off his brow. It was a weird feeling, being sort-of human, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. The past six weeks had been a whirlwind with Neku in charge, directing a steady stream of ethereal beings— self included— into a massive renovation of his shop. The place was an explosion of color and life, an irony in real time to contrast the lack of both on the owner.

“Quit complaining,” Uzuki demanded, hauling the other end of the new bar counter. “If I can get Kariya to lift your tables in, you can help with your own damn high-top.”

“The one you danced on,” Hanekoma said with a grin, looking down at the hot purple and neon orange footprints crisscrossing the acrylic-sealed bar counter. The two had tangoed across a plank, then encased it for eternity in enough two-stage resin that it would never fade—Neku was particularly proud of that collaboration. Uzuki pushed the shop door with her shoulder, so both of them could bring the counter inside.

“—and you don’t need to hold that ladder, Neku.”

“I don’t want you falling,” Neku snapped back, looking up at the Reaper wiring in the shop’s new light fixture. It looked like a vending machine had exploded on the ceiling, and Hanekoma loved it.

“Neku, I can fly,” Triple Seven replied, waving a pair of wire strippers. He was flapping his wings to show those off as well, not that Neku could see them from the RG.

“My masterpiece can’t,” Sho grumbled from the corner, looking on in a mix of horror and awe as Seven worked his stage rigging magic to get the recycled-bottle chandelier hooked into the building’s wiring.

“Look, it’s way easier for me to do this if I’m not trying to balance,” Seven sighed out. “Sho, get up here and hold it in place, so I can finish. Neku, go help do something that doesn’t involve a ceiling or frying yourself on open electricals.”

Sho sighed, stood up, and vanished back into the UG, flapping up to hold the sculpture as Seven jumped off the ladder. Neku winced, unable to see either of them.

“If you can hear me, I’m going to check on Shiki and her friends making chair cushions.” Sho rattled the ladder with his foot, and Neku smiled. “Hey, Mr. H, your shop’s haunted.”

“I’d be more worried if it wasn’t.”

Xxx

“So?” Hanekoma slid a ceramic cup down the acrylic to Neku. “Get your grade back yet?”

“Semester ends in January, Mr. H; it’s gonna be a while yet. How about your magic?”

“While this helped, no. It’ll be a while yet for me too. Can’t complain about the décor, though.”

Hanekoma and Neku grinned, taking in the space. Except for one section of wall painted with chalkboard paint for patrons to go wild doodling on, every square inch of the shop was covered in art altogether dizzying and explosively contrast in design.

“Opens tomorrow, right? My teacher is coming around again to see it.”

“Soft open today though.”

“Sign said closed,” Neku pointed out with his teaspoon.

“Maybe for the living.”

“Ah, a few reapers pass by?” Neku asked with a smile. “Hey, make a bet with you.”

“What?”

“How many days the shop’s open before a paying customer draws a dick on your wall.”

“Zero.”

Neku looked sideways as a handful of change bounced across the counter, Sho coming into view. He downed his already half-drunk coffee and loped to the chalkboard to vandalize it. Neku flicked his eyes at the empty tables and chairs, a massive grin breaking out on his face as every single one was filled in with a Reaper, raising glasses in toast.

“We all needed someplace to stay,” Hanekoma said on the room’s behalf. “Thanks for giving us a home. It’s still pretty broken and lopsided, but I promise we’ll keep the lights on.”

“Mr. H, this was already your home.”

He shook his head. “No, Neku. It was only a shop.”

“If its home, does that mean the drinks are free?” A few reapers turned to the furthest corner of the room—Joshua grinned, sitting backwards in his chair.

“J, what did I say about coming ‘round when Neku’s here?” Hanekoma scolded.

“…Don’t?”

“Short bursts only, lest you want to clean up the exploding brains on the wall.”

Neku shrugged. “It’ll probably add to the ambiance.”

[izaswritings]

all that’s left in the world | chapter four

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: cursing, references to past murder a la Reaper’s Game, mild body horror (in a Noise-human fusion case), and implied erasure. Nothing super graphic, but be warned! Please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

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AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

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part four: neku

.

.

.

I can’t hear a thing.

I hate it. I hate it. Where did everyone go? Where did everything…

It’s so quiet. Help me. Please, help me.

…

It’s too quiet.

.

.

.

Neku stares at the message for a long time.

He doesn’t move, but his fingers tighten, stiff around the phone. Kill the Composer of Shibuya. No mistaking that one. No mistaking the signature, either, or the time limit counting down on his hands. Yeah, okay. Okay.

There’s so much about the situation that infuriates him, but somehow, it’s this that makes Neku want to break something. Kill the Composer—be more original, he thinks, and grits his teeth. Always, always, kill the Composer. Well, poor fucking luck for her, then. Even if Neku wasn’t inclined to disregard every word Coco says by virtue of the whole being-murdered-again thing, this would cinch it. Why do people always pick Neku for this? Does he just have “potential assassin” written on his face or something?

Neku isn’t going to kill Joshua. He got his chance, months ago, and it was a way better set up then this farce: his friends taken, Shibuya on the line, Joshua a liar and a killer and still smiling, mild, like Neku’s anger was something vaguely amusing. A gun in his hands and a countdown to boot.

Neku hadn’t taken the shot, even then. He’s made his choice; he’s sticking with it. Joshua is an asshole—a liar—someone Neku is probably never going to be able to fully forgive. But he was Neku’s partner, too. And even this Neku can’t deny: the Game was horrible, but it changed him. He has friends now. He can see the world now. Sometimes, when he lifts his hands and closes his eyes, he can hear Shibuya’s music.

And yeah—it matters, too, that Neku’s still here. Because he lost, he’s pretty sure. He lost the Game. But Neku is alive and breathing and so are his friends, and they all have their memories, and even Rhyme...! And Shibuya is the same, except not somehow, Shibuya is brighter than ever and its almost blinding.

It’s not enough for Neku to forgive Joshua. It doesn’t take away what was done. But... it says something. About everything. That maybe Neku isn’t the only one who was changed by those three weeks.

Kill the Composer. Punch the Composer in the face, sure, but Neku clicks off the phone with a scowl. Sucks for Coco. Neku’s not playing this Game, thanks.

...Which is easier said than done. Sho Minamimoto, for example. And, you know, the time limit. Neku already knows what he’s not going to do, but that does leave the question of how the hell am I going to get out of this one.

Pi-Face must have been looking at the mission mail too, because now he’s laughing, a manic sort of snickering that makes Neku go still on pure instinct. Minamimoto, he’s found, only laughs like that when he’s about to, say, murder people, sick Taboo noise on them, or recite ten lines of pi and summon imaginary number explosions or some shit. Bad news either way.

“TANGENT,” Minamimoto shouts, and Neku blinks. “Fucking finally! This Game’s already getting zetta old, but this isn’t a bad solution at all.” His smile is full of teeth. “This is an equation I can get behind.”

Because facing Joshua worked out so well for you last time, Neku thinks, but keeps his mouth shut. He’d definitely noticed, with the ease of hindsight, how Joshua had killed Minamimoto—not with those burning beams of light that left scorch marks in the streets, but with the cars, the vending machines. And the casual way Joshua had dismissed him, that day in the throne room—I liked keeping him around—well.

Neku knows he couldn’t beat Joshua, even if he wanted to, which, no. And Neku beat Minamimoto once before. It... well, yeah, it doesn’t speak well of this guy’s chances, probably.

But again. Never, ever saying that aloud, holy shit.

“Whatever,” Neku decides, because as annoying as Pi-Face is, they’re partners whether Neku likes it or not, and he knows how these things work. Minamimoto, still grinning, closes the phone, shoves it in his pocket, and starts walking away. Neku stares after him. “What?”

And... no, yeah, he’s actually leaving. Oh, god.

“Hey,” Neku snaps, and races after him. “Where are you going? We have to stick together.”

Minamimoto squints at him and then turns away. “What, you’re still here?”

“Yes, I’m still—” Neku bites off the rest of it. Must get along with partner. Must get along... nah, screw it. “We’re in a pact. We can’t fight the Noise alone. We have to stick together—”

“Nah,” Minamimoto decides, and keeps on walking.

Neku stares after him, struck with a sudden and dizzying appreciation for Shiki. Had Neku ever been this bad? Had Neku been worse? How the hell had she not strangled him two minutes in?

He takes a deep breath. “Look,” he snaps. “I don’t like this much either, but if something happens to one of us, the other is screwed. I don’t like this any more than you do, but if we’re going to survive and figure a way out of this we have to work together.”

Still nothing. Neku narrows his eyes. Shit, okay. Math analogies, math analogies... “Unless you think you can make a working equation with just you.” Does that make sense? Well, whatever.

It works, at any rate—Minamimoto pauses, and after a moment he looks back, considering. Neku crosses his arms and scowls, trying to ignore the sinking sense in his gut. This might even be worse than his week with Joshua. For all of Joshua’s many, many irritating moments, he’d at least recognized and understood the basic principle of stick together. Death by no-one completing the mission had been a problem on day two, but Neku at least never had to worry about death by negligent partner who won’t recognize we’re in a pact.

After a moment, though, Minamimoto snorts and turns back around. “Zetta annoying,” he decides. “You better not slow me down, you useless radian. I don’t have time to proof. Though I guess you’ll be some help when I get around to crunching the Composer.” He grins, at that, cracking his knuckles.

Neku’s not really surprised by that response, but still. “What, you’re actually going to do it?” Try to do it. Same thing.

“What,” Minamimoto mimics, “you aren’t?” The smile returns, all teeth. “Either we crunch the numbers, or the numbers are going to crunch us. Constants don’t get a say in how they’re used.”

Math-speak for you’ll help me kill the Composer or I’ll make you, probably. Neku crosses his arms, unimpressed. “Sure,” he says, doubtful. “Either way, we have a problem.” He gestures around them the destroyed buildings and ruined streets. “I know Shibuya. This isn’t Shibuya. How the hell are you going to find the Composer? We’re not even in the right city!”

Minamimoto shrugs. “A possible miscalculation,” he allows. “I’ll figure a solution.”

You inspire so much confidence, Neku thinks, irritated. “Like what, exactly?”

Minamimoto snorts. “None of your concern,” he says dismissively, and starts walking away again.

Oh, yeah. Just as bad as Joshua. Maybe worse, because at least Joshua didn’t make Neku do math. Ugh.

Neku scowls at Minamimoto’s back and follows, resisting the urge to drag his feet. For all of Pi-Face’s easy dismissal of the worry, Neku’s still stuck on it. This place... it’s familiar, sure, but not in a good way. It’s ruined, ash and dust and smog choking the air, Noise filtering about the edges... but he can still recognize it, if only sideways. Those strange visions that had been blacking out his sight all day... yeah, Neku knows this place. This was the city that got destroyed in the dreams.

Why am I here?

He’s almost certain, now, that this is where Coco was trying to lead him and Beat; she’s succeeded in dragging Neku here, at least, but he still doesn’t know why. Why kill Joshua? No, wait, wrong question. Why try and kill Joshua like this? A Reaper’s Game twisted beyond recognition, and a mission to kill Shibuya’s Composer in a place that clearly isn’t Shibuya. Can they even leave this place? Is this just a trap to get them erased by an impossible mission with a definite time limit? But then—why seven days to complete it? She could have set it to five minutes and dusted them that way.

It doesn’t make any sense, Neku thinks, and tugs once at his hair in frustration before letting go. He’s sick of this. Plots and plans and Neku stuck in the strings, and damn, he did not fucking miss this.

For a moment his hands shake. He squeezes his eyes shut, and exhales very slowly. His eyes are burning. And that’s—that’s fine. This is fair, isn’t it? He’d thought he was done with Games, but now he’s back here again, so it makes sense, it’s fine, he just needs…

He just needs a moment.

The air is so stiff here. Silent and empty. Every inhale is tinged with dust, and the city itself is a dead place—no wind, dead air, stale and settling and starting to rot. It’s hollow in a way that echoes. It aches. He misses Shibuya so suddenly it dizzies him. The crowds—the music—the world.

I didn’t ask for this.

But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Neku’s made his decision, and he’s going to stick to it—his only concern is getting out of this. And hey, track record, right? He’s done the impossible before. He can… he can figure this out.

He opens his eyes, and exhales again. He grits his teeth and pulls himself together. Okay. He can do this. He will do this. He’s going to figure out this new Game and he’s going to come back to Shiki and Beat alive and well. If Coco thinks she’s got him beaten, then she’s got another thing coming.

But still. As he picks his way across the ruined landscape, Neku can’t help but feel, with a sinking sense of dread, that there’s still so much worse to come.

.

They explore the city for a while, in silence—Minamimoto leading, like he’s forgotten Neku is there, and Neku trailing behind, keeping one eye on his irritating partner and one eye on their surroundings, wary of an ambush.

The city is... awful, Neku thinks, and the longer he stays here the more it makes his skin crawl. The streets are totally empty; the Noise are either everywhere or nowhere at all. No more strange, distorted symbols in the air; no more chance of avoiding them. They always watch them pass with blank, gleaming eyes—and that’s another thing, too. The Noise aren’t right. The Noise are dead silent.

Everything, Neku is finding, is dead silent.

The Noise don’t make—well, noise. There’s no wind—no birds—nothing. Even their footsteps feel muffled and dim, as if Neku’s walking on cotton, unable to make any noise louder than a whisper. When he speaks, it feels like he has to shout to be heard—like the total silence of the city is swallowing his voice whole, taking it all in, giving nothing back.

The worst part, though, is that there’s no Music.

When Neku left the Reaper’s Game for good, and first awoke alive and well on the Scramble Crossing... memories, and friends, and nightmares hadn’t been the only things he’d taken away from the Game. Sometimes, when Neku closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears and just let the murmur of the city wash over him, he could hear it—a song, or the Song, Shibuya in entirety, a music he could never really describe and could hardly imagine living without. It was chaotic and chiming and... Shibuya. Just Shibuya.

It was a comfort. And now it’s gone.

And he knows—Neku knows, logically, that even if there was Music here it wouldn’t be the same—this isn’t Shibuya, isn’t home. But even so, he’d rather hear an unfamiliar song than this... nothingness. This absence. This void in the air where music used to sing and people used to laugh, and just—there’s nothing, now. There’s a lack. There’s a hole.

I can’t hear a thing, he thinks, and it feels like his thought and yet it feels nothing like him at all, and for a moment the silence presses down on him. Panic coats his tongue. Despair squeezes at his chest. It’s less pain and more an echo if it; someone else’s words, ringing through him. For a moment his vision washes out into white.

I hate it. Where did it go? It’s too quiet. Come back. Come back!

Neku stumbles forward. Again. It’s happening again. He can hardly breathe. He presses a hand to his temple. “Who are you?” he whispers. He’s almost certain, now. This isn’t him. This is someone else. But who? “You keep—calling to me, who—”

Please help me. Static fuzzes in his ears. His eyes burn. Help me. Oh, god. Oh, god, please, someone help me—!

“Useless radian,” a new voice snaps, and the echoing words cut off with a snap, so quick it leaves Neku almost breathless. “Get up.”

He’s on his knees, Neku realizes. When had he fallen? He presses his hand against the concrete, gray and ashy beneath his palm, and lifts his head to glare.

Minamimoto looks unimpressed. “I don’t bother with inherently flawed calculations,” he warns, and then grins. “Match the parameters or get deleted, yoctogram.”

How nice, Neku thinks, dryly. Now he’s not sure if the headache pounding behind his eyes is from the echo, or just from listening to Minamimoto talk. Or both. Asshole.

“I’m fine,” Neku says, finally. His hands are shaking. He curls them against the concrete, and tries to remember how to breathe. “I… I’m fine.”

Minamimoto snorts. “Who gives a digit? Just get up. There’s a problem.”

“Huh?” Neku pushes to his feet, wavering a little. His legs feel shaky. He’s not in pain anymore, but the memory of that hollow ache is enough to make him shiver. That voice. That fear. Those visions, again. Just what is going on?

Minamimoto runs a hand back through his hair and grins, unsettling. “We have a new addition.”

“What?”

Minamimoto lifts his chin towards the far end of the street, seemingly unconcerned. Neku follows his gaze. They’ve stuck to the main roads, thus far; this one is three lanes wide and shadowed by empty skyscrapers turned hollow and half-eaten, like they’ve been decayed from the top-down. The fog of white dust makes it hard to see, but if Neku squints…

A blurry shadow of a figure lingers at the end of the road.

Neku blinks. Not just a figure. A humanoid figure. Moving. Holy shit. Is that… is there really someone else here?

His blood runs cold. Coco? Or… could it be—the girl from his visions?

But there’s something off about the figure, and Neku finds himself reaching for his pins before he can think better of it. He doesn’t trust this. Too much about this Game isn’t right—not just the missions, but even the rules of the world turned on its head. All of his pins work even when he’s not fighting the Noise. He doesn’t have a Player Pin, but he’s definitely in the UG. The Noise no longer pull them into an alternate dimension; they’re fully formed and waiting and watching, with eyes blank and white like a dead pin. And the silence, too...

No. This isn’t right. And as the figure shuffles towards them, Neku steps back and pulls a Lightning Rook to his hand, because he’s not so sure that’s a person, either.

Minamimoto is grinning, though something has turned sharp at the edges of his smile. “Ugh.”

“What is it?”

“I miscalculated.” He studies the figure and slides back into a stance. For a moment, he seems to blur at the edges. “Should have carried the evidence to its conclusion. Tch, embarrassing. This was simple math.”

Neku squints at the figure. They’re shuffling forward, coming into view, and when he sees them in full, he blanches. “Is that—”

“Yep.” Minamimoto makes a harsh noise in his throat, looking disgusted. “Inversion. The system’s all screwed up. Noise in the RG, UG in fractions... and sometimes you get equations that just don’t work out.”

Inversion? The hell? But there’s no time to ask. The figure is close enough now to see in entirety and— oh.

Neku can’t breathe.

They look—they must be—that’s a person, isn’t it? A businessman, he thinks, with slicked back black hair and a pale gray suit, jolting faintly with every step. They must be a person. Except they have a Noise’s colorful scrawls winding all the way down their arms and face and there’s wings peeling out bloody and painful from their back and sharp teeth jutting from their gums and oh, fuck, Neku never wanted to know what a human-Noise combo would look like and he’s really not happy to have found out now.

The Noise humanoid opens up their mouth and screams. There is no sound, but the air grates. Neku slams his hands over his ears, and in the distance, Sho Minamimoto is laughing.

“Caught between the frequencies, are you?” he says, looking delighted. “So zetta cool. Zetta sucks, too. Don’t worry. You’re about to get deleted.” He draws back his hand. To Neku: “You better not slow me down!”

Neku falters. “Wait,” he says. “Wait wait wait, that’s a person, what happens to them if we—”

“Ugh, do the math!” Zetta shut up, Neku thinks back. “What do you think happens to Noise-possessed people when it all gets Inversed?”

Neku stills. Noise-possessed people. Which means...

He draws back his hand. Okay. Okay. He doesn’t understand most of that, but... if they defeat this person, will that help? Will the Noise leave them? Will they go back to normal?

He doesn’t know. What he does know is that looks painful. Either way, Neku isn’t going to be able to back away from this.

Minamimoto laughs and throws himself into the fight with a sharp, vicious war cry of “Infinity!” It is familiar in a way that makes something in Neku ache; he stills, and refuses to look beside him. Joshua isn’t there. Joshua isn’t with him. In fact, he hasn’t really seen Joshua in almost a month, not since the Game ended.

And yet. For a moment, he can almost hear the laughter.

Neku shakes his head. He’s not fighting Minamimoto, he’s fighting with him, and he needs to start acting like it. Neku reaches for his pins.

“You better be right about this,” Neku snaps, and attacks.

Lightning Rook in one hand, Electric Warning, Velocity Attack, Raven, and two healing pins. Neku flips them through his fingers, watching Minamimoto dart across the area, and sets his feet. He still has the Fusion pin—he’d made sure to check, and thank goodness for that—which means so long as he times this right, they should sync up and hopefully be able to…

He preps the lightning in his hand, and then Minamimoto appears right in front of him.

��Shit!” Neku jerks his hand away—the lightning flashes and bangs, gone wild, darting up and out of range, crackling harmless in the air. What? What!? “Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

Minamimoto just cackles. “Useless components should just stay put!”

“Hey, wait!” In the distance, the Noise opens its mouth in a silent scream, and the world warps like putty. Pi-Face grins like a shark and vanishes from view. Neku curses at him, and throws himself down.

The air explodes above his head; Neku ducks out of range and then rolls back on his feet, angry now. “Are you kidding me?” he demands, to no-one, and reaches for his pins again.

The lightning jumps for his fingers eagerly. The power is a head rush. Neku grits his teeth and blasts at the Noise again. Despite all of his annoyance, the weight of the pins in his hands is a comfort. It’s almost soothing. He hates this, he hates fighting, but—

But Neku has missed this, too. That breath of power, that static on his tongue… he’d missed it. Why? He doesn’t want to. But he finally feels settled, feet flat on the ground. Minamimoto is an annoyance, this new Game a mystery, Coco a threat—but here in this fight, Neku is steady. I can do this.

Minamimoto cuts him off again; Neku switches pins with a mutter and throws himself out of range of the Noise’s shockwave. The silent screaming thing is seriously starting to vex him. He takes up the pin again, aiming—

Pi-Face, sneering, flickers into view and kicks the Noise back. “So zetta slow!”

Neku grits his teeth. “Would you just—hey! We need to sync up! Stop getting in the way!”

Minamimoto scoffs. Neku clenches his fists. “You—”

And then Minamimoto is gone again—and then he is right in front of him—and then he is kicking Neku right in the side, hard enough to send him flying back. Neku just barely gets his arm up in time to block most of the blow; his whole forearm sears with pain. Minamimoto is grinning again, sharp and wild.

Neku stumbles, catches his feet, and stills, his pins burning in his palm. Attack your partner is never the mission. It’s never the mission. It’s never—

“What the hell are you doing?” Neku says, quietly. “Do you have any idea—”

“Cooperation is trash,” Minamimoto says, far too gleefully. “We’re looped in the same equation, sure, but I crunch the numbers. Get in my way, you get factored out.” He steps away, turning his back, piece said. Neku sees red.

Raven has always been a favored pin. Neku tosses a streetlamp at him.

Minamimoto dodges, of course—and when he turns back around, his expression is frightening. “You are so—”

“Partners!” Neku snarls, talking over him. “We’re in a pact, you… we have to work together!”

“Crunch! That opinion was garbage. I’ll throw it on the pile.”

Must. Not. Murder. Partner. “You’re not a Reaper anymore. You don’t have the wings, we’re in a pact, you have the same fucking timer I do—either we fight together, or we’re going to lose.” He takes a quick, tight breath. Sota. Nao. All those Players, even the Reapers… but Neku can’t afford to die here. “Work with me here. You don’t want to die again, right? Well neither do I! So help me! And let me help you.”

Asshole, he adds, internally.

Minamimoto looks like he’s considering it, which of course— of course! —is when the humanoid Noise attacks again. Go figure. Fucking fantastic. Neku wants to bang his head against a wall.

But when he rises from his dodge, Minamimoto flickers into view beside him again. He looks annoyed. Grudging. And his face twists up, but he says: “Fine. Whatever,” and it is not the glowing confirmation Neku was hoping for but god, damn, he’ll take it.

“Finally,” Neku mutters, and flips a pin. “Then let’s do this. If you take it from behind, I’ll blast it from the front.”

Minamimoto scoffs again. He vanishes without a word.  Neku rolls his eyes, and sets his feet.

Lightning in the air, Minamimoto’s taunting insults, the Noise’s silent screaming and the warping air—but while they are not entirely in sync, this time it’s enough. The Noise is slowing, wing tattered and limp, face fuzzing from view—and the Fusion pin warms against Neku’s wrist.

He activates it. “Get ready!”

“Fucking finally! So zetta slow!”

“Argh, you—!”

It’s like stepping into a web. Lines and angles and numbers and—and Neku grits his teeth against the overload, the power slipping through his fingers, and reaches back. Equalities, balances, equals to. He clicks the numbers into place, and feels power burning through his hands.

(And for a moment: something is off. Something is wrong. A power that is neither his nor Minamimoto’s. Something else. Someone else? Not quite a pact, but… like moving in sync. A mirroring.

A connection.)

Something shatters.

It’s like white noise in his ears—the empty static—the imaginary plane. For a moment there is a hole in the world, in the sound, in the noise—there is music, sharp and rhythmic and singing through the air—and then they are back, and his ears are ringing, and there is a person, Noise-less, lying slumped on the street.

Neku blinks fast. The bitter taste of ozone lingers on his tongue. He breathes past it, and rushes for the body. “Hey! Are you okay?”

No answer. Oh, shit. Neku kneels by the man, reaching out, and freezes when his hand passes right through. “Wait—wait, no—”

The man fades away, as fragile as a dream. Neku doesn’t move.

Behind him, Minamimoto makes an interested sound. “So, the Inversion takes it all. Noise or nothing. A full circle.”

Neku curls his fingers. He still doesn’t know what the hell this Inversion thing is, but he’s starting to get the gist. “You mean…” So there was no saving the guy? Either existing as a fusion with Noise, or not existing at all? Is this what’s become of all the people in this place?

Neku grits his teeth. He bows his head.

Minamimoto makes a scornful noise and turns away. “Let’s go,” he says, dismissively. “We’re subtracting time.”

Neku clenches his jaw and rises to his feet. Right, he thinks. Right. It’s not over yet. Whatever happened here, whatever this is… he still has time to figure this out. Maybe… maybe he can find out what happened to this place, too. To these people.

He’s not playing to win, after all. He’s playing to finish this. He can add one more mystery to the list.

But for all his determination, his mood has soured. Minamimoto is walking down the street, casual as he pleases, but Neku lingers on the road, subdued, bitter despite himself. He looks up at the sky, and thinks of the mission mail, of that almost-presence during the fusion, the almost-whisper in his ears.

High above him, the sky flickers cold and red. The clouds churn like boiling water. When he blinks, he can see the afterimage of it on his eyes, like an imprint of the Reaper’s skull, glaring down at him. Burning.

“Hey,” he says. “Are you there?”

He waits. But no one answers.

Neku blinks the red from his eyes until the sky is gray and cold once more, then turns and walks away.

[ryuukia]

[Translation] SolidS Drama Vol.5 “One faithful day, I saw you laughing under the starry sky” Track 4

We’re getting closer to the ending of the CD. This track focuses on Shiki and Rikka, and how they met for the first time. If you want to hear Shiki being formal, here’s your chance. Anyway, many thanks to Ryota for proofing this for me.

Please don’t repost/retranslate/reuse my translations. Likes and reblogs are appreciated.

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Track 4: That day’s encounter

-Shiki bursts into the room and startles Rikka-

Shiki: I apologize. I must have gotten the wrong room. ...Wha, or not?

Rikka: Oh, the set might be at fault for that, I had a photoshoot with firewood scheduled for today. May I ask for the time when yours is starting?

Shiki: Ah, I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere around 13.

-Shiki brings out some papers to check-

Shiki: It’s not... it says 3 p.m.

Rikka: That means it’s appointed for 15.

Shiki: I got the time wrong. I shall return later.

Rikka: Ah, please wait. I’m about to leave anyway.

Shiki: I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that. Moreover, I am the one at fault, if you were to leave it would look as if I had sent you out. Please accept my apologies.

Rikka: Not at all, please don’t worry about it.

Shiki: Ah. ….You are Sera Rikka-san, right?

Rikka: Eeh? ...Yes, that’s right.

Shiki: Our photos will be featured in the same magazine this time. I’m Takamura Shiki from Tsukino Talent Production. Pleased to meet you.

Rikka: Takamura Shiki…from that unit who’s gotten popular recently? Pleased to meet you as well. I hope one day we will be able to work together. I shall take my leave now.

Shiki: Ah, one more thing. Please wait.

Rikka: Eh?

Shiki: If your schedule allows it, could we talk for a little?

Rikka: Talk about what?

Shiki: Anything that would help me understand photoshoots better. Even a few tips would be more than sufficient.

Rikka: Huh?

Shiki: Photoshooting is far from being one of my specialties, so any sort of advice would help me a lot.

Rikka: Eeh? Huh? Uh… eh? Uhhmm, correct me if I'm wrong, but I reckon you are more well-known than I am and you should be acquainted with this field... by now...

Shiki: I beg you.

Rikka: Uhm, please don't bow, raise your head. Er… My schedule is free after this, so I don’t mind having a chat with you.

Shiki: Thank you very much, Sera-san.

Rikka: … Rikka is fine.

Shiki: I understand. Then Rikka, I’ll be in your care.

Rikka: Likewise.

Shiki: Can I sit next to you?

Rikka: Of course, go ahead.

Shiki & Rikka: Uhm…

Shiki: Er…

Rikka: Uh…

Shiki: With things progressing so fast, I guess we both can’t help but be on guard with each other. Maybe getting to know each other would help. I’m pretty sure we’re also close in age. I’m 18, what about you?

Rikka: I’m 16.

Shiki: Two years younger, huh. But on the other hand, your career is longer than mine.

Rikka: How do you know so many things about me?

Shiki: I checked up in advance what are the magazine’s needs and who seems to be trending among the readers.

Rikka: I see.

Shiki: But apart from that, one of your CMs has also left an impression on me. The one featuring those summer soft drinks.

Rikka: Ah, that one.

Shiki: Since I was already familiar with your name, when I went to the bookshop I’d unconsciously find you on some magazine covers, posters, even some photos scattered around. It’s hard to ignore something like that especially when they’re so flashy and, moreover, we’re close in age and work in the same industry.  

Rikka: I see. I wouldn’t say my photos are really the best, but your words did make me view them in a better light.

Shiki: Right. I bought some magazines and tried to use them as reference, but how can I make my facial expressions look natural on the camera? It’s a question I still ask myself. If there are any tricks, perhaps, could you explain them to me in a few words?

Rikka: I think Takamura-san is-

Shiki: Ah, Shiki is fine. You can drop the formalities.

Rikka: I think Shiki’s the type of person whose simple presence is enough to catch someone’s attention. You don’t need to make any kind of expressions for that, it’s easy to tell when people like you do that. I believe people will be more pleased to see how you really are.

Shiki: … I suppose you’re right. I’m far from being a professional model. And thinking about it, trying to reach your level only by imitating something you gained through years of work sounds more like an arrogance.

Rikka: Hold on!? I didn’t mean it as a negative thing! I was only trying to say that you shouldn’t force yourself to copy me and just be natural. In short, you don’t need to change yourself.

Shiki: I don’t need to change myself… I suppose me being there as a talent is more important, huh. You’re probably right. Thank you, I feel a bit more relieved.

Rikka: I’m glad to be of help. You look like an earnest guy, Shiki.

Shiki: I’d say it feels a little different from being earnest. I’m simply a shallow perfectionist who hates losing. But I’d like to stop that kind of behavior in the future if possible. My aim is to live my life focusing on the one thing I set my heart on, just like you do, Rikka. It sounds like a better alternative for me.

Rikka: One thing, huh. You think too highly of me.

Shiki: Hm? Your achievements can be seen in numbers. You should be more proud of yourself, you’re without a doubt among the best.

Rikka: Oh…

Shiki: Remember the words you told me? When being natural is a given and your redeeming feature, use it as your weapon. You should accept it gratefully and use it effectively. From my point of view, I’d say Rikka is the earnest one.

Rikka: Uhm, I’ll take that as a compliment.

Shiki: It is. I can’t think of anything more that can sound like a compliment. The fact that you get work demands from your specialty field is also something enviable. Unless you want to do something other than modelling?

Rikka: No, nothing in particular. It may sound like I’m repeating myself, but I’ve been doing this job ever since I can remember and stuck to it since it felt like I needed to. I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper objective or aspiration in mind beside that.

Shiki: Needing and wanting to do something are similar things. Isn’t that something a professional would say? Because you’re giving effort, the next job comes even if you’re not aware of it.

Rikka: You’re exaggerating, I don’t deserve that many praises…

Shiki: In general, your own evaluation tends to differ from other people’s. It’s easy for one to assume that the work we do is trivial because from others’ standpoint, we gain recognition by only doing something small and experience no hardships at all. But nobody can reach the front lines without putting some effort. If you can manage to strive in what you do and keep any kind of worries away, that’s what I would call ‘being talented’.

Rikka: Oh……

Shiki: What is it?

Rikka: Doesn’t that sound too mature for you, Shiki? Are you really 18? I wouldn’t be surprised if you lied about your ag-

Shiki: I didn’t!

Rikka: -laughs- Of course. Sorry, sorry. It’s just that your words hold too much power for someone your age. Maybe not just power. Each of them are so sharpened they break through your heart.

Shiki: That’s maybe because these are the things I tell myself.

Rikka: More exactly?

Shiki: Things like how I’m grateful for my position of first player in the industry. About how much work I put into this. But when asked if this is really what I wanted to do, there are times when I hesitate to give an answer. Rather than singing a song someone else made, what I really want to do is make music with my own two hands. 

Rikka: Shiki, you mean...

Shiki: As long as I continue doing this job, I can’t make time to focus on just one thing. And yet, this is what I want to do. I want to compose music. I want to go as far as my will allows me to. Time won’t let one contemplate, it will simply pass by. And with it, the world also changes. I don’t need to do two things at the same time, but both done halfway. I only need to choose one and stick with it. ...Or at least, that’s what I’ve been thinking these days. What do you think, Rikka?

Rikka: I don’t think you need to ask me, that look in your eyes tells me your heart is already set on it.

Shiki: My expression, huh.

Rikka: It’s not like you were trying to hide it.

Shiki: I suppose. 

Shiki & Rikka: -laugh-

Shiki: Can you keep this conversation between us?

Rikka: Of course. If word were to get out about it, it would cause an uproar. And more than that, I’m glad you shared something so important with me on our first meeting.

Shiki: Ah, you felt like someone who would listen to me without prejudices. I didn’t expect you’d read right through me though.

Rikka: That’s because you didn’t try to hide yourself. Ah, right!

Shiki: W-what?

Rikka: Now that I think about it, there was actually something I wanted to do. I want to try and experience photography outside fashion photoshoots. I can’t think of more details right now, but for example something with an outdoor location would be nice. The sky and the sun would change as time passes, then the wind would move in different ways too. I want to go into nature and take pictures that capture unique, fleeting moments. I do have thousands of hours of studio shooting, but zero experience when it comes to outdoor shooting.

Shiki: I suppose the artificial light from the studio, the cool production, the modern sets and atmosphere have something to do with that. But I think they suit you.

Rikka: Oh… Thank you. It’s a good feeling to be thought important by a lot of people, I admit. But, sometimes I wonder if simply thinking that is good enough, so I’m having doubts. But thanks to what you told me today, I think I’ll be able to continue with this a bit more. You also reminded me of what I want to do. Thank you, Shiki.

Shiki: I should be the one to say that. I probably knew the answer I’ve been looking for all along, but just needed someone to give me a push and point it out. Now I know what I have to do. Let’s fulfill our dreams, Rikka.

Rikka: Yeah. Do your best.

Shiki: I hope your dream will also come true. When I think about locations in nature, I imagine packs with food and trips by train. 

Rikka: Exactly! That’s the kind of thing I’m looking for. It seems like fun.

Shiki: Cooling yourself under a waterfall...

Rikka: And watching the blue sky on a meadow!

Shiki: You finally smiled.

Rikka: Oh…

Shiki: You have a nice smile. No wonder you’re so popular.

-someone knocks at the door-

Staff A: Excuse me! Oh, Sera-san?

Rikka: Ah, I apologize. We ended up talking a lot. I should go by now.

-Rikka picks up his things-

Rikka: Well then, I’m going. Good luck with your shoot, Shiki.

Shiki: Thanks. With the advice I got from you, I’m sure the photos will look fine. Also, can you give me one more minute?

Rikka: Ah, what for?

Shiki: If you don’t mind it, give me your contact address.

Rikka: Oh… -laughs- Of course, with pleasure.

Tsubasa: Whaaaa… he really doesn’t beat around the bush. Also, this conversation is filled with pick-up lines.

Rikka: And after that, I haven’t heard anything from him for around a month.

Tsubasa: What a player!

Rikka: At that time it honestly made me feel a bit lonely considering it felt like we were getting along so well. But I think it was the same for Shiki. He didn’t contact me, and I didn’t have the courage to call him myself.

Dai: So, after that one month passed, what did he say when he got in touch with you again?

Rikka: He was really nonchalant. When he called me and said “Rikka, it’s me. Do you want to go out and eat something after work?” that first time, I kept asking myself what had just happened.

Tsubasa: He didn’t even say his name. Could’ve been a scam.

Rikka: That also happened around the time when the world was in an uproar because Shiki was to leave his unit.

Dai: Did he tell you anything about that?

Rikka: No. He didn’t say anything in particular about it. Or at least, I didn’t hear anything about it. I knew from the beginning what Shiki was set on and all I wanted to do was to support his decision.

Tsubasa: Hah… Rikka, you’re really laudable!

Dai: That part of you that doesn’t hold back on strange things hasn’t changed. But I could say the same for Shiki’s brazen invitations, huh.

Rikka: -laughs- Indeed. Shiki’s always done things his own way and if he decides on something, he’s not going to give up or yield on it no matter what.

Dai: But you know, not changing for a long time is sort of amazing in its own way.

Tsubasa: Wait, Dai-chan. Stop it, I just imagined it for real.

All: -laugh-

Shiki: Rikka, are you here?

Rikka: Shiki? What is it?

Shiki: Can you give me 10 minutes? 

Rikka: Ten minutes or an entire hour, both are fine with me. I don’t really have anything planned now.

Shiki: I see. Let’s go out and have a drink.

Rikka: Eh!? Now? Sure, but what about Haiduki-san?

Shiki: He went back earlier. But he’ll join us later.

Tsubasa: More important, darling. Where are you taking Rikka on a date looking like that?

Shiki: Why do you always pick up on people’s appear-... wait, maybe I should actually change my clothes, huh.

Rikka: I have enough free time, go and take a shower. 

Shiki: Yeah, right. Sorry, wait for me a bit more.

-Shiki leaves-

Rikka: That was…

Dai: It looks like he’s back to normal.

Rikka: My strange feeling of dread is suddenly gone. Maybe we’ve reached a turning point?

Tsubasa: Good grief, our leader likes pulling people into his antics, but just like that he’s going back to normal, huh. Rikka, you should get mad at him for causing you trouble once in a while, you know?

Rikka: He’s back to his normal self now.

Dai: I wonder when Haiduki-san went back.

Rikka: Right! I didn’t even notice.

Tsubasa: Speaking of which, what was that? He invited Rikka for a drink, Haiduki-san’s gonna join later, but us? Why are we left out?

Dai: To me it looks like those 3 have something to talk about.

Tsubasa: So Dai and me don’t?

Dai: I think it’s fine to leave them some space sometimes. You’re also not done checking the interviews in the first place.

Tsubasa: Ugh! I’ll really do them after!

Dai: Liar. Get to work now.

Tsubasa: W-w-wait, Dai-chan, the applications!

Dai: You did them then. So why are you trying to hide them?

Tsubasa: -grumbling- Eeeeeeeuhhhhhhhhhhm…because it’s embarrassing?

Dai: If you want to try excuses on me, find a better one. Your interviews are always embarrassing.

Tsubasa: Dai-chan, be good an- whoaaa! C’mon, give them back!

Dai: You’re annoying. I’ll read them out.

Rikka: Well, I’ll go get ready too. I’ll call you later.

Dai: It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about us, enjoy your drink. 

Dai, to Tsubasa: Now, if you don’t shut up, I’ll kick you.

Rikka: Thank you.

Dai: Look at this, more than half of them aren’t done.

Tsubasa: Seriously, Dai-chan you bully.

Dai: “We, SolidS, are-

Tsubasa: W-w-wait I said!! 

Dai: heroes who exist to give dreams and hope to people.” What is this? A squadron thing?

Tsubasa: No, wait, wait!! I didn’t say anything like that!! Let me write it again!