Chapter Text
Shinta took another drag from his cigarette.
"Dude," Kyo made a face. "I thought you quit."
He glanced, moving only his eyes. "And I thought you learned to knock."
The skater glared into the ground and shifted uncomfortably. "I did. You didn't respond. I got worried."
Shinta snorted--smoke shot out of his nose. He kicked the chair across from him.
Kyo took his cue and flopped down. He stared at his friend. "You look like you've been up all night."
Shinta looked up at the sky. He liked his break "room." Surrounded by outer walls on all four sides, save for the door that led back to his shop. It was a nice, accidental bit of space created and it was Shinta's.
"Hey." Kyo raised his voice. "Shinta, you there?"
"I heard you." Shinta looked at the young man. "And, yes, as a matter of fact, I was up all night." He took another puff of smoke.
Kyo winced. "I...yah, I guess you would have been. Sorry," he mumbled.
Shinta turned his head to exhale away from him. He looked back at Kyo. "I'm not offended." He squished the cigarette on the ashtray. "Just a little off is all."
Kyo gave him a doubtful look. "You wanna talk about it?" He was slouching in his seat, one foot on the table leg.
Shinta shrugged. "What more is there to say?" He looked back at the sky. "Mother sent Father to pick up their bodies and watch over them until burial. I am to return home forty-eight days from now for nine days for some kinda vigil." His gaze drifted to Kyo's chain lanyard. "Well guess that's something worth talking about--you oughtta know when I'll be out of town."
"...Why nine days?"
Shinta thought about starting another cigarette. "Father's always liked Norse and Jewish mythology. He only takes bits of it, though, and this is the first time in a while we've had a blood funeral." There were implications Shinta didn't feel like elaborating on, such as how much of a wreck the old man was.
Kyo's face revealed nothing, but Shinta knew what he was thinking--he was going to be up all night reading up on the Norse and Jewish folk now. That was one of the things he always liked about Kyo. He came off as utterly uninterested but was quite the opposite once he warmed up to you. Attempting to be a walking encyclopedia on whatever impacted your life was one way he showed affection.
The other was often just sitting there and keeping you company.
"Your family's always been strange." Kyo said.
For normal people, that was an insult.
For Shinta, it was a compliment and the truth. "Thanks," he said.
Kyo didn't smile. "So what's a blood funeral?"
"When somebody with the Iwata blood dies. In this case..."
Kyo nodded. He understood. "Is Norse reserved for that?"
Shinta shook his head. "No. But me being there for nine days is. If it was for a love funeral, I wouldn't have to."
"A...love funeral?" Kyo was still able to keep his poker face, but the confusion and discomfort was evident in his voice.
Normally Shinta would have smirked, amused by the squirming of the other person. But he wasn't in the mood and he liked Kyo. "Somebody who may as well be part of the Iwata family but isn't. People Mother, Father, myself or others care deeply for." He stared at the door. "We had a couple of those a few years ago for some of Yoji's friends. He had to stay for the nine days, though. He brought them into the family, after all."
Silence.
Kyo switched feet on the table legs.
Shinta started up another cigarette.
"I could get coffee if you want," Kyo straightened up. "Wild Kat's been open without incident for a while now."
Coffee sounded good.
"How would you like it today?"
"Black with some cinnamon and vanilla. Extra hot."
Kyo nodded. "Coming up. I'll back in a bit."
"Thanks, Kyo."
"No problem."
Shinta watched him leave through the curls of smoke. If Kyo was out and about at this hour, it was later in the day than he thought.
Or he saw Shinta's loss as something big enough to close business for the day. It was likely the latter. Kyo’s shop, The Wild Boar, was all the way in Udagawa Back Streets.
The thought was both surprising and...something else. Shinta wasn't sure how he'd have categorized it. Typically he could figure out what was going on his own head. But Shinta had to remind himself this was not a typical day, nor was tomorrow going to be or the next.
He sighed and looked up at the sky again. Without looking where it was going, Shinta extinguished the cigarette. Now the only hint of the passage of time was a lone little cloud inching by. Not liking that, Shinta's attention was on the chair Kyo had been sitting in. Wincing, Shinta stretched his legs onto the table. He was still sore from maintaining almost the exact same position all night. The only thing that made him switch it up a bit was to avoid deep vein thrombosis and make his parents prepare yet another casket.
It was the little things that most people didn't think about that occupied his head. Most of which he had learned from Shigemori over the years.
That wasn't going to happen any more. Shinta pretended he had come to terms with that.
He wondered if enough time had passed for Kyo to be on his way back with the coffee. It was an idle thought, not one of impatience or loneliness. At least Shinta could also pretend that was the case--
"Auch!" Shinta clenched his teeth, pain erupting at the base of his skull.
There was a loud crashing noise from inside his shop.
He staggered out of the chair. Kyo was epileptic. And if this was the right time for him to be coming back...
Shinta didn't need any more tragedies.
He half-fell into the door, pushing it open.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of ozone. The second thing he noticed was the groaning figure on the floor with singed clothing. To Shinta's relief, he was way too tan to be Kyo.
So who the hell was this guy?
"Hey, mister," Shinta leaned against the wall as he got closer.
The stranger groaned--or possibly growled.
Shinta froze. He didn't want to get too close. The guy didn't look armed, but something about him just oozed danger. ...That something setting aside the sudden and possibly violent arrival in the back of Shinta's store. “You all right, man?”
Said man stirred. He pushed himself up, his gloved arm shaking from the strain.
Shinta barely hid his surprise--he had gold eyes.
The man looked around, possibly unaware of Shinta's presence.
"What the hell?!" Kyo was standing in the opposite doorway, a tray with three coffees still in hand. He made a move to step forward, but Shinta held up a hand. He stopped mid-step.
"Can you hear me?"
The stranger groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yah, I can hear you yoctograms."
Shinta wasn't sure how to feel about that insult. He wavered between seeing it as clever and lacking.
"...Sh--er, what happened?" Kyo asked, looking between Shinta and the man.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Shinta replied. He squatted down and sniffed. The man didn't smell of alcohol or anything pungent. Even if he had, there was nothing on him that indicated what the source of the ozone odor was. "How did you get into my store? Only me 'n my friend have the key here."
The man looked around. He looked at Shinta. "...What's the date?" His voice was raspy.
Shinta and Kyo exchanged looks. "September 28th of two thousand and thirteen. ...Why?"
The man turned to Kyo and painfully craned his neck. "Move. I wanna see the window."
"You won't see it through all his stuff." But Kyo stepped aside anyway.
"Damn," the man muttered. He looked back at Shinta. His eyes were glassy. "Is there a state of emergency? Last I heard, somewhere in Europe got nuked."
Shinta's eyebrows knitted together. "No."
The man smiled. There was something off about it. He also looked ready to pass out. "So this is a good one."
Shinta and Kyo exchanged glances again. His friend was inching towards the phone, but Shinta held up his hand. The skater gave him a confused look.
"We're gonna call you up a doctor. Is that all right?"
Kyo's confusion deepened.
The man's smile twisted into something less joyful and almost sardonic. He opened his mouth but quickly clamped it shut with his hand.
Shinta grabbed the trash can near him and shoved it into the man's hands.
"When you're done, mind telling us your name?"
He did his best to hide the disgust in his voice--he had heard of the term "black bile" before but never thought of it as something literal. What looked like tar was pouring forth from his guest.
"Sho," the man mumbled, wiping his mouth. He set the trashcan down.
"Just Sho?" Shinta kept his face even. Whatever he vomited up smelled like decay. This guy definitely needed a doctor.
"Until I think you're smart enough to handle more, yah."
Shinta's eyebrows twitched. "So, Sho, we'll be calling you a doctor--"
"Won't help." Sho said flatly. He then smirked. "Trust me."
"Something tells me that's the last thing I should be doing."
Sho's smirk widened. "I like you. You got anything to drink?"
"Just coffee. Do you like cinnamon and vanilla?"
"Actually," Kyo grabbed the third, taller coffee. "Nobody picked it up. I got it on the house. It's caramel flavored."
Sho seemed to perk up at that. "I'll take that." At least Shinta was pretty sure it was a "perk up." The man still looked ready to fall over and not get back up.
Kyo was looking at Shinta for approval.
Shinta gave a quick nod.
Kyo handed Sho the coffee. His jaw was clenched and right foot was shaking. It wasn’t an epileptic shake, but a nervous one. This Sho guy was freaking out Kyo, which was making Shinta dislike him more by the minute.
"Thanks," Sho said after taking his first sip.
For some reason that surprised Shinta. "Sho," he began. "If a doctor won't help you, who will?"
The strange man looked him dead in the eye. "You will. Lemme see..."
Before Shinta could react, Sho grabbed him the collars of his turtleneck and jacket and yanked him forward. His knees painfully hit the concrete floor.
"Don't," Shinta said.
"Don't what?" Sho asked. His grip was surprisingly strong. It occurred to Shinta he may have been feigning weakness.
Shinta glared at him. "I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to my friend, who is about to dump scalding coffee on you."
Sho was still grinning--he had noticeable canines. He twisted his head to look at Kyo. "I like your spirit, but I like this guy more."
Shinta tensed.
"It looks like you don't scream or make sudden movements." Sho let go. "So you'll be the one to help me."
"Who said I'd agree?" Shinta asked, straightening out his jacket and shirt.
"You haven't heard my offer or demands yet."
Kyo still hadn't set the coffee down.
"I might be listening." Shinta replied, keeping half his focus on Sho, the other on Kyo.
"Then you might know where I could find me a Mr. Hanekoma?"
~+~+~
His head was pounding--there was too much noise. Shigemori steadied himself, eyes still shut. It was such a familiar clash he was hearing. He cracked open his eyes, letting the light in slowly.
The first thing he noticed was he was in the middle of Shibuya square.
The second thing Shigemori noticed was that he was breathing and alive.
Yet nobody was walking into him or paying any attention to him.
Shigemori’s head snapped around, desperately searching for a familiar face. His frantic eyes landed on a dazed Yoji.
He rushed over, calling out his brother’s name, but his voice was lost in the crowd. Yoji looked as bad as Shigemori felt. There were bags under his eyes and he didn’t seem to be registering his surroundings.
“Yoji!” Shigemori said again, skidding to a halt.
Yoji blinked a few times. He squinted at Shigemori and readjusted his glasses. “Shigemori?” He said.
“Can you hear me?”
Yoji’s eyes widened in horror. He grabbed Shigemori by the shoulders. “Are we in a crowd? Are they making noise?”
Shigemori’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yes, of course,” he said, nodding. But something wasn’t right. The loss of color in Yoji’s face confirmed that. To be specific, that something didn’t feel right.
“I can hear,” he said after a moment, relieved, as if Shigemori had said nothing. “Okay. Good. Shigemori, you can hear too?”
He was growing irritated. “Yes, Yoji, there is a crowd and it’s noisy. ”
Yoji was still holding onto his shoulders. He increased his grip. Shigemori winced. “Can you hear you, though?” He didn’t break eye contact.
Shigemori’s heart began to race. “I--”
No sound. No vibration in his throat. Nothing.
He could feel himself growing faint. This had to be a mistake. His knees were beginning to shake and his vision clouding.
“Hey, I know nobody can see us but you have to pull yourself together.” Yoji said. “That must have been your entry fee--you’re voice. You know what that means right?”
Shigemori blinked back the tears. Right. He could...sort of remember it now. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. The headache was starting to fade, but it was still there. Both sensations were making thinking difficult.
But he could remember a voice stating it had collected their entry fees. They were now in a game and could win another shot at life.
So it would seem his entry fee was his voice.
“Color’s coming back. Does this mean you’ve processed what’s happening?”
Shigemori held his right hand down and waved it. The bracelets he wore clacked and chinked against each other.
Yoji clapped him on the shoulders. “Good! So you know this means after a week you’ll get it back, right?”
Shigemori opened his mouth but promptly closed it. He nodded instead.
“And then that means we’ll be back with Shinta!”
He grinned. Shigemori was still terrified and wanted nothing more than to hide, but the thought of seeing Shinta again was comforting.
Yoji’s own smile soon faded. “Just...uh. Hn. Does your head feel stuffed up too?”
Again, Shigemori nodded, remembering to keep his mouth closed this time.
Both of their phones chirped.
Shigemori dug into his pockets for his phone. The little charm Shinta had hunted down for him was still there. The relief he felt died within an instant of opening his phone.
“Mission: Defeat four noise. Time: Two hours. Failure will result in erasure. Purpose: To learn the basics. Notes: No free time.” Yoji read the statement aloud. He rose a brow. “The hell?--AUCH!”
Shigemori let out a soundless scream. He clutched his left hand at the wrist; searing pain raced throughout the hand and veins. Slowly, he managed to pry his fingers open.
A timer with a blood-red glow was presented to him. As the seconds ticked down, there was a faint tickling. He could feel his knees grow weak again. This was impossible.
But here he was, a dead man, standing here with his dead brother. Really, anything was possible now.
“We both got one,” Yoji said, looking over at Shigemori’s hand. “Think this means we’re partners?”
Shigemori looked up at him and shrugged. He wanted to tell Yoji he was as lost as him. He looked at the text on his phone--it was the same one. He reread it. Four noise? There were no decibels afterwards. If they meant “four noise” in some other way, whoever was sending out the messages clearly needed more lessons in Japanese. Maybe they were trying to say defeat four noisy people? But he couldn’t see how that was doable--nobody was paying any mind to them--
Yoji tackled him.
“LOOK OUT!”
~+~+~
“So,” Sho said again. “You’re telling me that Russia is not at war with anybody?”
Shinta sighed. “Yes.”
The man looked at Kyo. “And the Eiffel Tower’s still standing?”
Kyo just nodded.
“Hn.” Sho readjusted his hat. “Well damn. I really got it good here.”
Shinta looked at his watch. It was going to get dark soon. “Did you want to get to Wild Kat or not? We can walk and talk.”
“Hey, can’t a guy enjoy peace for once?” Sho turned his head to look at them. He was somehow able to avoid walking into anybody. “I never thought I’d actually be happy to see living people.” He tugged at his hat. “And you two could’ve tricked me about the walk and talk thing.”
Shinta looked at Kyo. The man put a finger to his temple and twirled it. Shinta looked back at Sho. “So you’re...what? An asocial artist?”
The man grinned. “Hey...I just might upgrade you to a zeptogram, maybe even an atto!” He put a fist on his hip. “You’re pretty observant.”
“I’ll file that away as a possible complement.” Shinta said. “Now...can you please walk faster?”
“Aye-aye, big-brother.”
Shinta bristled.
“What? You talk like one. You’re the eldest, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Kyo lied before Shinta could respond.
“I was asking him, not you.” Sho looked back at Shinta. “But anyway, yah, sure. There’s nothing toxic in the air. Even if there was,” he snorted, “I’d be safe. But I rather not lose you two so soon.”
“The concern is appreciated,” Shinta said dryly.
“I’ll walk next to him now,” Kyo whispered.
“You don’t have to do that. ...Why, anyway?” Shinta glanced at Sho. He seemed too busy admiring the clouds to hear them.
“Between the two of us, which one is willing to use force if he does something nutso?”
Shinta frowned but stepped aside. Kyo dutifully took his place between the two.
“So...Sho,” began Shinta.
“Shinta?”
“Do you mind telling us just where the hell all these statements are coming from?”
Sho smirked. “Wouldn’t believe me if I told ya. And even then, I don’t even know if you two could comprehend it.”
“Try us.” Shinta demanded.
Sho still had a cocky look to him, but something in his eyes changed. “Where I come from, I’m dead. Died a long time ago.”
Shinta had heard stranger and believed in weirder. “So you’re from an afterlife?”
“Sorta.” Sho tugged his hat further down. Shinta took note of the glance at the man in a red hoodie, who passed by them. “Hm. Look, it’ll be better if Hanekoma tells you all this.”
They entered Cat Street. “What, is he dead like you? He seemed pretty alive to me an hour ago,” Kyo said.
Sho shook his head. “You’re so zetta slow.”
Kyo’s jaw tightened but he said nothing.
Shinta bristled again. He stopped walking. “Let’s just go.” He turned. “I don’t have the patience to deal with an asshole like this.”
“What?” Sho whirled around. “You’re just gonna leave a dazed, confused and possibly dangerous guy here?”
Shinta shrugged. “I got others things to worry about.”
“Oh, you mean like burying your brothers?”
Shinta’s stomach dropped. The color drained from his face. Slowly, he turned around again, facing Sho. “None of us told you that,” he said coldly. The cliched question of “how” was bubbling for his mouth, but Sho was already responding, still walking.
Sho gave him an innocent look. “I’m dead. I know when people die, I know when people have been close to the dead. You have two little brothers who were murdered in a mugging gone horribly wrong way early yesterday morning.” He stopped walking and looked at Shinta. He tugged at his hat. “They were walking back from a store with ingredients to make you a surprise birthday breakfast. If you wanna walk your lazy ass the next fifty yards over to the coffee shop, I might even tell you how to get them back.”
Shinta felt a great disconnect between his feet and his brain. The brain said to ignore Sho--his feet thought otherwise.
Kyo agreed with his brain. “Dude, the guy’s psycho,” he hissed, grabbing Shinta before he got too far. “What we need to do is call the proper authorities before you get yourself killed.”
Shinta kept walking, Kyo now awkwardly holding his arm. “Something about this guy is different.”
“Yah--the fact that he’s lacking in everything sane.”
“No. You know my headaches?”
Kyo’s eyes widened. “Don’t--you can’t be serious.”
“I got one when he showed up.” Shinta stopped, keeping a good few feet between him and Sho. “You’ll tell me more when we’re in the cafe?”
“You got it.”
Sho twirled on the heels of his feet, returning his walk to the Wild Kat.
“Shinta, please,” Kyo began. “You’ve gotten better. You should know by now your headaches spell bad news!”
“Or something extreme,” Shinta whispered. “Now let go before people get the wrong idea.”
Kyo reluctantly released his arm.
Sho was standing just out of the cafe--nobody inside would be able to see him. “It, uh, might be better if you two walk in first.”
“After you,” Kyo growled.
Sho looped an arm with Shinta. “Then me ‘n him together and you last.”
Shinta glared. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
Sho readjusted his arm so it wasn’t touching Shinta in anyway. “Better?”
Kyo cracked his knuckles.
“Just get in,” Shinta unlaced his arm and nodded to the door.
“Hectopascals,” Sho muttered darkly but walked in anyway.
The store was, as usual, rather empty. Mr. Hanekoma was leaning against the counter, reading a book. It looked new. Shinta realized it was the latest from Sakuraba.
Hanekoma looked up. “How can I hel...”
He stared at Sho. It was a peculiar expression, noted Shinta. His mouth was only slightly open and his glasses hid half of his eyes. But it all seemed forced--like he was only pretending to be surprised instead of reacting another way.
“Heya, Mister H!” Sho grabbed at a stool and sat down. “I was wondering, could you help me with something?” He laced his fingers together and rested them under his chin.
Hanekoma forced a strange smile. “Sure thing, Sho.” He looked to Shinta and Kyo. “Oh, hello again, Kyo. How are you?”
Kyo mumbled something that sounded like a “fine.”
“Shinta? I’m sorry about what happened.”
Shinta’s lips thinned. “I...appreciate it, Mr. Hanekoma.”
“I’d like to give you proper condolences, but right now the store’s closed.”
Kyo jabbed his thumb at the entrance. “Sign says otherwise and door’s unlocked.”
Hanekoma’s odd smile widened. “I forgot to flip it and lock them.”
“I asked them to bring me here, Mister H. Shinta here said he might work with me if I bring his brothers back.”
“You told them?” The man kept his voice even.
“Eh, pieces. Said they’d believe you if you told them. But that’s not why I’m really here. I’m really here cuz I’m not this world’s Sho. And, obviously, the me here did something to piss you off.” He shook his head. “Look, I can’t tell you how different he and I are, but I at least know not to piss of Angels.”
Hanekoma put his book down. “Kyo, turn the sign and lock the doors.”
Kyo did as asked.
“Now you two, take a seat.”
Kyo dove for the one next to Sho before Shinta could take it.
Hanekoma looked back at Sho. “Well then. Sho, why are you here?”
Sho straightened up and placed his hands in front of him. “To put it bluntly: Somebody divided by zero. To put it in a more shocking sense for your type: Something is spreading across the worlds, turning frequencies off and shattering them.”
~+~+~
Yoji had his hands on his knees and was panting. “You all right, Shigemori?”
His little brother didn’t look too good but nodded. His shirt had a tear that would need mending and there was some blood seeping through it.
“I’m gonna trust you on that,” Yoji walked over to him. “Damn that was...rough.” There had been at least three waves of...whatever they were.
Shigemori nodded again. He stayed close.
The hairs on the back of Yoji’s neck prickled up. Somebody was watching them.
Shigemori gave him a questioning look.
“I’m looking around cuz somebody can see us.”
The other Iwata looked at him surprised.
Yoji nodded. “Yup. I think...” he scanned the crowd.
There he was. A man in a red hoodie standing by the entrance to 10-4.
Yoji made his way, dragging Shigemori along with him. “Hey. You. Who are you?”
“Defeat one more noise to complete the objective.”
“So you’re the one who sent us the text?”
He said nothing.
“Hn.” Yoji looked at Shigemori. “Are you up for one more round?” The little brother clearly wasn’t. “We have well over an hour. It’s okay if you wanna rest up for a few minutes.”
Shigemori glared and shook his head.
“If you sa--er, think so.” Yoji looked around. “They found us. But...after that light show...man that was weird. I don’t see them.” He whistled. “That had been a lot.”
Shigemori was looking at Yoji’s shirt.
“What?”
Shigemori pointed to the pin that had been put there. He then pointed to one that looked exactly like it, but was pinned to his belt.
“Hn. Oh, right. The Player Pins.” They had been given those after their fees had been collected. He curiously tapped it.
Voices of all intensities flew at him. Confusion, happiness, curiosity. Where was that bookstore again? The sequel to that drama show was up tonight. What would happen to that band now that their singer was dead--
So much noise.
He had his hands on his knees again. “That...” Yoji forced himself to take a deep breath. “Okay.” He straightened up. Shigemori had a worried look on his face. “I’m okay.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay.” Yoji said again.
Shigemori didn’t believe him.
“Don’t give me that look. Hey, I saw it. The Noise.” He pointed to the pin his brother wore. “Tap it. ...But be careful.”
Hesitantly, Shigemori tapped at his pin. His eyes widened, but there was a blank expression on his face. He was frozen.
A moment later, he was clutching his head and gasping.
Yoji gave him his space. Once Shigemori recovered, he began to talk. “Okay. So we can...hear people. And there are those...things floating there. Ya think the more of those things we off, the less we’ll hear?”
Shigemori shrugged.
“But those have to be what we gotta kill--they look like the things that attacked us. C’mon, Shigemori, we can do this. You did a good job!”
Shigemori frowned.
“I’ll be there with you. And I’ll be sure to pick us a small one, okay?”
Slowly, Shigemori nodded.
“Excellent!” Yoji slapped the pin on his chest.
There was a small one that looked a lot like the first few. He reached out to it.
Yoji felt something electric run through him and heard static. Suddenly he was alone in the streets. But he wasn’t really alone--Shigemori was somewhere “there.” To his left he saw something like a tear in reality appear. Two green frogs crackled into existence.
The man smirked. The fire pin and slashing pins were the only ones that worked. For some reason, he didn’t mind that.
The creatures launched themselves at him.
He dodged and slashed his hand, flames erupting from the ground.
They didn’t let out any sounds of pain. Yoji wasn’t sure why that was a disappointment, but he fought on. Within seconds they had fragmented away.
There were people and Shigemori was at his side.
“See?” He put an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Told ya we could do it this time! Man that one went by way faster now that we knew what to do, huh?”
Shigemori pushed his glasses up. He was covered in sweat.
Yoji frowned. He wanted to tell him it was okay, second big brother was here to keep him safe. Instead: “Don’t be so scared.” ...Those words tumbled out.
Shigemori tensed.
“I, uh...--oh! Look.” Yoji held up his left hand. “See?”
Shigemori looked at his hand. Sure enough, the timers were gone.
“We did it!” He looked at the man with the red hoodie. “Now what?”
“Objective met. Day complete.”
“Huh?” Yoji wanted to ask more. But he couldn’t. All sensation was lost and the world was black.
~+~+~
Shinta dropped his mug.
Hanekoma caught it, not minding the hot coffee that had splashed onto his wrist. “You okay there, Shinta?”
It was a sudden disconnect. But from what, Shinta wasn’t sure.
“I, uh...” he pushed his glasses back up. “Yah. I’m fine.”
Hanekoma gave him a doubtful look. “...Right.” He set the mug down and looked back at Sho. “Continue, then.”
“Gladly!” Sho carefully set his mug of hot chocolate down. “The Shibuya I came from was already a rough world.” He fiddled with his hat, which he had taken off. “We had a decent flow of people every week for a while--people forgetting about the curfews and what not.” His face hardened. “But suddenly they were just dropping and we were getting overwhelmed. Turns out all other sectors were too. We got some emergency orders, much like the living folk did.”
“And you fled to here to escape all the pressure?”
Sho let out a snort. “Don’t insult me. No. Our world was toast. Something about the way people were dying--we didn’t realize what was going on before it was too late. Not only that it...” He shifted uncomfortably.
Hanekoma tilted his head down, getting a better look at Sho. “Go on.”
“It all felt orchestrated. So I decided to investigate. I’m a high ranking guy, so it was easy to just off the players as I ran by.”
“Direct confrontation is allowed over there?”
“No.” Sho shook his head. “I...may have accidentally released stronger Noise.”
He sounded somewhat apologetic, Shinta realized.
“I’m here because I was chasing somebody. The you over there helped me do some real forbidden stuff to set up a portal.”
“Did I now?” Hanekoma rose a brow. “Well then this must be serious.” The way he said that made it sound more like a joke.
Sho suddenly turned to Shinta. “I need a partner, though, to continue this.”
“Whoa, now, the rules here are different. First off, in order for him to be your partner, he has to be dead. Second, Reapers can’t have Player partners. Third, he’d be too busy trying to come back to life if he agreed.”
Sho looked at Hanekoma. “Then get a hold of the Composer so we can alter it. We can talk more later, I know you’re dying to find out how I know about Angels. Am I right?”
The owner of Wild Kat stared Sho down. “And what makes you think he’ll be interested?”
“Because we have to enact the Zenith Protocol.”
Hanekoma stared. “...Give me a moment.” He turned and walked to the back of the store.
Sho looked back to Shinta. “If you agree to be my partner, I’ll give you whatever you want. Just name it. But I think I already know what you want.”
“Can you do that?” Shinta was looking Sho straight in the eye. This guy was different--he didn’t feel threatened by the action. “You said there was a way.” He could feel his heart pounding. Was there really a way to bring them back?
“Shinta, what are you doing?!” Kyo grabbed his shoulders. “Don’t agree to whatever the hell it is he might promise you!”
Shinta ignored him. “Well?”
Sho started to laugh. “Man, you really don’t want the boring stuff like fame, do ya? You want the sappy cliched stuff. That shit’s almost impossible, you know. Fame’s easier!”
“It looks like you’re an impossibility in your own right. I won’t agree unless you can do it.”
Sho held out his hand. “It’s a deal, then. If he can get the Composer to call for the Zenith Protocol, then I think I can do anything. I’ll bring those boys back to you!”
Shinta took the hand and shook it. It felt cold.
Hanekoma emerged from the back. “I can’t be held responsible for anything else that happens.” He said this, looking at Sho.
There was another person. Shinta hadn’t felt it at first, but now he could--something powerful was behind those curtains.
“My, my,” said a haughty voice. “Look at what the cat dragged in.”