Lies.And.Distraction
His time limit looms not-so-far away, and he resists the urge to check the timer on his palm again. It hasn't changed so much since he checked two minutes ago, but he doesn't want to see that it has changed at all.
He won't lose, because with the stakes of this Game, he can't *afford* to lose. He has to believe that or he can't keep going, can't go against the Composer when the only outcome is his death and the destruction of this city.
He's already made a good amount of progress. His plan is starting to fall right into place, and the Players will help him a little more before the end of the week. He'll save Shibuya, convince the Composer to stay his hand. He'll do it.
He checks the timer again, and pushes aside the unease in his gut.
You weren't aware that you had any enemies, but apparently someone has figured you out. You feel... something... wrong on the edge of your awareness. All your senses are on alert, even if you can't tell why yet.
"I'm sorry, Neku," you say, distracted, "but I think I'll have to pass today. I have things to do."
He scoffs, with the assurance that you will always be there (which is good, because that's your job, since you wanted him to be sure of you, but also unpleasantly selfish). "Like what?"
"Things," you say, to frustrate him, to keep from worrying him, and also to warn him about his tone of voice. You feel almost like you've gone back in time, to when he was five and whining about every little thing.
He scowls at you, but that's an acceptable reaction. "Fine, whatever." He hesitates for a moment, but adds, "When are you going to be back?"
You smile. "Soon." This time, you don't mean to annoy him- you just don't have a definitive answer- but he rolls his eyes.
"Sure you will."
"Don't miss me too much while I'm gone," you say, and as long as he thinks you're not being serious, you blow him a kiss. He replies with his middle finger.
Your smile fades as soon as you disappear from sight. You think you have an idea of who you need to look for, but you can never be too certain. You'll make a quick stop before looking, though- you need to be sure Sanae is aware that something is going on.
"Bowling," he says, monotone, and Sanae smiles widely.
"Yeah, sure. It'll be fun."
Joshua stares at him for a long while before shaking his head. "I can't ignore my duties for childish games," he says, and Sanae scoffs.
"You would be the first one to ignore your duties for-"
"And neither can you," Joshua continues, as if he never said anything. "Unless you intend to let both your reputation as CAT and your cafe fall apart."
Sanae rolls his eyes, wondering how he's dealt with this kid for so many years. "Josh, it'll take an hour, and you forget that I don't need to sleep." He puts on his most convincing smile and holds out a hand. "Come on. Spare a little time to play in your garden. We could both use the break."
Joshua looks at his hand as if it's something poisonous. Sanae takes the hint and rubs the back of his neck. "...And this is how you propose we spend it." It's not a question.
"Yep," Sanae says, simple as that, and Joshua sighs. "Bowling's not that bad," the Angel adds. "I'll even let you use bumpers while you learn."
Joshua gives him a glare that could probably kill any lesser being. Maybe he shouldn't have said that- it'll cost him later. But he raises an eyebrow in silent challenge.
Sanae can tell that Joshua, despite himself, is intrigued. Intrigued by any potentially interesting game, even if he considers this one below him (Sanae is reasonably sure he just doesn't want to go through the okay-so-how-do-I-do-this stage in front of people). He has a pretty good feeling he's going to get his way, and he hides his smile from the Composer, who isn't looking, anyway.
His moves aren't wrong, exactly. In fact, if he were up against anyone other than Joshua, maybe Megumi would be winning. But Joshua knows him too well, knows how he works and what he's thinking. And with his choice of Proxy and his knowledge of Shibuya- he knows his Conductor isn't going to succeed.
He knows this through Neku's second week in the Game. He knows this through his time in the parallel universe. He knows this when he returns and Megumi pulls every last trick out of his sleeve in what can only be classified as desperation.
And when the end comes, he smiles, though smiling is the last thing he wants to do. "It seems I've won," he says with a chuckle, as if nothing is wrong, and, "Shame your plan didn't work out."
He doesn't know if Megumi understands that he's not taking this as flippantly as it appears. But Megumi flinches back in disbelief, then catches and calms himself. "You gave me a wonderful opportunity," he says, gratitude where despair belongs. "Thank you, Sir."
A rather empty feeling strikes Joshua, and he watches as Megumi turns to speak to Neku, figuring out his biggest mistake in the process. "It's all up to you now," the man says, and Neku has no idea what that means, but Joshua has to turn his face away for a moment to regain his composure.
All up to Neku to win- to overcome the Composer that he, the Conductor, could not beat. And it's all the hope he'll die with, knowing that all his other hopes are gone. Even this close to Erasure, he won't give up. Of course, Joshua doesn't want to destroy Shibuya, but it is logically the best choice; he doesn't feel for his city, but he will mourn this man who has been with him for years.
He is perfectly capable of restoring Megumi to his status as Conductor- of preventing this Erasure altogether, while he can. But a Game is a Game, and they agreed on the rules before they began to play. There is no escaping checkmate, and Megumi is fully aware of this.
A moment later, Megumi is gone, vanished in a flash of light, and Joshua puts on a nice show for Neku, outside smug and little more than amused, but insides torn and searching for answers.
Sanae's cafe is a safe place. All of the shops are safe from the Noise and the Reapers, of course, but this cafe seems more so. It's a small place, not well-known- in all the years he's been dropping by, Joshua hasn't seen more than three people occupy it at a time, himself included- but it's homey. Comfortable. And that's more than Joshua can say for any place he's actually called 'home.'
(If anyone knew that Sanae was CAT, the man would be overrun. But he likes his privacy, and certainly needs it because of what he is. Joshua is glad for that, as much as Sanae complains about slow business.)
He remembers coming here when he was young and very much alive, back when the man had just opened the cafe. Quite the stroke of luck, that was; Joshua clung to the safety Sanae offered, until it came time that he didn't need protection anymore.
Now, he drops in mostly just to wind down- or to pick on his Producer. Neku, too, if he's around (and his relationship with both of them is still somewhat strained, but they all understand each other. It'll be all right.). Either way, he knows he shouldn't visit the RG so often. It's not exactly dangerous for him, but it is dangerous to his and Sanae's identities. The world doesn't know about these beings called Angels and Reapers and whatever lies between, wouldn't believe anyone who told them, but Minamimoto was a prime example of what the Reapers could do (or try to do) with that information.
For now, though, he's not too worried. He blows on his tea, and when Neku steps into the building, he waves, smiling.
"...You're kidding," Neku says flatly, as Joshua spins around in front of the mirror (It could only be worse if he were wearing a dress. Which Neku wouldn't put past him, even now that the Game is over and they don't need to watch what they wear.).
"What, you don't think it's my color?" Joshua asks, and casts him a look that's halfway between a pout and an attempt at seduction- both of which Neku knows he could do better. The shirt is a few shades too red, and his sleeves billow ridiculously; paired with the neon yellow jeans, Joshua looks ridiculous. Even for Joshua.
Neku is unimpressed. "Dude, if you think either of those is your color, we need to get your eyes checked." And what happened to his fashion sense? He was so high and mighty about it- worse than Shiki about putting down Neku's choice of clothing. Even Neku can tell that this is a disaster.
"Then what is my color, Neku?" Joshua all but purrs, hand on his hip, and oh. Neku should have seen this coming.
"Your color is shut the fuck up," Neku says, and makes to leave before his face turns as red as the shirt. He doesn't even know why he came along in the first place; he already knew that shopping with Joshua- clothes shopping, especially- is worse than shopping with Shiki. And Shiki doesn't feel the need to turn everything into some kind of flirtation that she may or may not mean.
"I can hear what you're thinking, you know," Joshua calls after him, snickering. "You're right; I think I should try this in blue. And of course I mean it; what do you take me for?"
"I can answer that question if you want me to," Neku says, and it's not much of a threat.
Joshua laughs again. "I love you, too," he says- and did he have to say it so loudly? Neku cringes, hopes no one was close enough to hear that.
"Call me when you're done," he says, and tries to find something in the store that will distract him enough to get the blush off his face.
"Neku," Joshua says quietly, nudging the boy a bit. The sun is shining in through the window at just the angle that would cast the light on Neku's face if Joshua weren't in its way. "Hey. It's time to get up."
He gets no response, shakes the arm Neku's lying on for a moment. Neku just groans, pulls the blanket up over his head, and shoves his face into Joshua's neck. He doesn't even crack one eye open.
Joshua chuckles. "As comfortable as I'm sure you are, I am less so. I'd like to get up. At least move off of me, please."
He gets a whole grunt at that, and then Neku's throwing his arm blindly over Joshua's waist and pulling him closer. "Mm... no," he says, voice dry and creaky with sleep.
Joshua sighs, stares up at the ceiling and runs a hand through Neku's hair. "...I have things to do today."
The answer is delayed, but at least it comes. "...So do I."
"Important things."
"Mmhm."
Silence.
"...Neku-"
"'Couple more minutes," Neku says, and Joshua sighs again, fingers still running through his hair.
"All right."
Those minutes end up being more than 'a couple' when Neku falls asleep again, but Joshua doesn't mind as much as he thought he would. When he gets up, he's careful not to wake him. For a moment, he watches Neku burrow deeper into the mess of blankets and pillows, but then he shakes his head and pulls himself away, heads for the bathroom.
Maybe Neku can afford to skip a few classes, but his duties as Composer won't wait for him.
(Trigger warning for suicide!!!!!!! Seriously. Possibly skip over this one, if you think you might be bothered.)
There aren't any less-populated areas around here; this is the most run-down, bare part of the city that he knows about. He's considered other places, other methods, but the river isn't a sure thing, and neither can he rely on knives or the hope that he might find his father's gun. He's tried pills- years ago now, and it took a while for his mother to stop looking at him like he would shatter at the slightest touch after that attempt grandly failed.
"Maybe the world doesn't want you to die," one of his counselors said, and he gave her a B+ for effort. "Maybe it's so hard because you're not supposed to go yet."
If the world wanted him alive, he wouldn't be here, at the top of the highest building he has access to. It's no isolated cliff, where he could fall for miles before he hit the ground, but it's high enough that he knows he can't survive if he jumps. Jump, just a short fall and then it's over- and he has the advantage of knowing what comes next, what's waiting for him.
(It's better than here. No one will mock him. No one will decide that what he needs is medication, more therapy, no one will cringe away from "that schizophrenic kid," no one will have to fail to understand him at all anymore. He'll win the Game, and things will be better. He'll make them better. He'll have the power to do so.)
The only thing he needs to do is jump. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. It's not fear that makes his blood pump hard.
Curious creatures, Reapers. Not quite monsters, not quite men. He watches them, chin on his palm, watches as they taunt the Players, just before battle begins and they fade somewhere between the planes.
They're not inherently evil. Perhaps their ideas of 'fun' are... Different, not so commendable, but they cannot be considered evil at base for doing what they must to survive.
It's an interesting system in place, he thinks, as he turns back to the paper in front of him, no interest in the view ahead of him when it's only normal, live human beings. Almost like a game- and that's what Hanekoma called it: the Game. In theory, the Reapers exist to weed out the unworthy Players- to leave the Composer with only those deserving of a choice for their future at the end of the week. ("Aah, I'm not really s'posed to be tellin' you this stuff, kid," Hanekoma said, scratching the back of his neck, eyes averted, "but I don't think there are rules for this kind of thing, so...")
But in reality, it's become sport. The Reapers have forgotten their duties, and base their existences on the destruction of the Players'. While it seems they do need to eliminate the unworthy to survive, they don't separate the Players into those categories anymore. Everyone is free game.
Joshua notes his observations and hums quietly. He keeps his thoughts to himself.
There's a reason Joshua picked Neku. It's not only because he was at the right place at the right time- no, Neku was fated to be Joshua's Proxy. He was drawn to the mural because he had what it took to understand it, to be inspired by it, and that was the proof Joshua needed to pick him above the others he watched pass by.
But now- now that it's all over, now that Neku has changed his mind, changed *him* when he didn't honestly expect anything to get better (oh, he'd hoped, he'd wanted Neku to prove him wrong, but what were the odds)- he wonders if it was more than that. Not just potential he saw. Something that drew him to Neku, just as the boy was drawn to Sanae's art.
He doesn't like wondering. Doesn't like not understanding, doesn't like being wrong. And oh, was he wrong. A pawn, indeed. Impersonal- make his own Player for the Game, one who will do just as he needs (even if he was never *entirely* detached from the boy who reminded him entirely too much of himself).
But it's too late to change his mind, change his actions. He's made his bed; now he has to lie in it.
He doesn't think these are the consequences Sanae was talking about.
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