Chapter Text
The Udagawa Mural still drew Neku, even a year after the Long Game. It stands, intricate art illuminated by the afternoon sun, as he approaches.
Trailing his hand over the rough texture of the wall, the dried paint, warmth seeps into his skin, despite the chill January air. There’s blood pumping through his veins, people in the distance going about their lives, and Music of Shibuya pulsing under the surface of the city streets. The mural sinks its hooks into him, dragging him closer, holding him captive with the flow and rhythm of the pain. The sheer life of the atmosphere. Like if he held his hand against the wall long enough he’d become part of the art.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Neku jumps, turning around to face the intruder on this moment. His heart rate spikes, and he clenches a hand at his side. The past is not one he wants to repeat.
Instead of staring down the barrel of a gun, he stares into bright green eyes. There’s no showdown with bullets hanging mid-air here, just a relaxed smile on the stranger’s lips.
“CAT’s art is impressive, the way it draws people in. It’s lovely,” the stranger says, walking closer. “My name is Yuuto Kimura, by the way. What might yours be?”
“Neku… Neku Sakuraba,” he huffs. He has half a mind just to turn and walk away, but no. This Yuuto fellow is just being friendly, it’s not fair to take out his poor social skills on this guy. “I agree, by the way. I’ve been a CAT fanboy for a while now, years,” he says with a chuckle.
“I’d bet. Those headphones of yours are CAT exclusive, aren’t they? They’re an old exclusive too.” Yuuto leans against the mural, tapping a foot on the ground. “I’ve got a fair bit of merch from him myself, if I’m being honest.”
“Mm.” What does he want?
Silence falls between them. The sun traces its way through the sky as they stand. The air between them hangs heavy, waterlogged.
“You know, it’s dangerous to hang out back here all the time,” Yuuto says, slicing through the sea between them. “I’ve seen you around here for ages, it wouldn’t have been hard to learn your schedule.”
“Your point? Besides being creepy?” His eyes narrow, hand grasping at the pins in his pocket. Lightning Rook might not be worth much in the RG, but keeping them around soothes the desperate terror leaping in his lungs.
“My point,” he says, “is that you’re foolish if you don’t take safety measures. I heard this time last year a kid a bit younger than you was shot! Right by this mural!”
Yuuto kicks off the wall, straightening up and stretching his arms above his head--and is he only wearing a lightweight coat in January? Yuuto pays no mind to the cold, like he pays no mind to the ice in Neku’s veins at the statement he’s made.
Sharp metal digs into his skin, needlepoints. One of the pins has come unclasped in his grasp. His tongue is tied down to the bottom of his mouth, throat drying out under this stranger’s gaze.
Green eyes catch the wince, and Yuuto’s gaze wanders to the fist Neku has clenched in his pocket. “Unless you are taking measures to keep yourself safe? Gun violence isn’t something to worry about here, except for the odd fringe-cases like last year, but close-range? A good punch in a knife fight can win the battle.”
“I can pack a punch,” he says. He’s no Beat, but if Yuuto thinks he can pull one over on him, he’s got another thing coming. Specifically, a solid right hook to the face. “If you’re not careful how you speak, it’d sound like you're threatening me, you know? Do you wanna test what it’s like to be on the other end of my fist?”
Yuuto snorts, a hand flying to cover his face as laughter shakes his skinny frame. “Oh god, no. You got the wrong idea my friend! Just sharing tidbits I find interesting. I will say, your reaction was unusual, most people brush it off or get scared when I bring up how easy it is to die. You got ready to brawl.”
“I value my life, ya know? If I’m being threatened I’m not going down without a fight.” He lets go of the pins, dragging his hand out of his pocket and relaxing the fist.
A buzz comes from Yuuto’s pocket, then, and he whips out a pink smartphone. After a few taps, he slides it away and starts walking.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Neku Sakuraba,” he says, flashing a peace sign over his shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”
And Neku is left alone, with the cold digging through his winter coat and the sun obscured behind buildings.
Chat: [Babysitting Duty]
Fun Uncle: Josh what the fuck
A literal child: What?
Two cats in a trenchcoat: Kariya is referring to you visiting Neku.
Expressly against the orders of the HG.
A literal child: Hey now, your information is wrong.
A boy named Yuuto Kimura happened to meet Neku Sakuraba at the mural. The great Composer of Shibuya did no such thing, Yoshiya Kiryu never interacted with Neku.
Fun Uncle: You’re an insolent bastard and that is the most clever idea you’ve had all year A+.
Two cats in a trenchcoat: You manage to have such creative intelligence and yet you fail to apply any of it rationally ever.
A literal child: wow rude, I use my creative intelligence perfectly and am fully aware of the rationality my plans have.
Neku stops by WildKat on Thursdays yeah? I’m gonna be chilling there tomorrow as Yuuto so I can catch him for another coincidental meeting.
Two cats in a trenchcoat: Just know I can’t protect you if you get caught and this plan falls through. The HG isn’t going to like this loophole, they’ll like it even less if you make a mistake.
A literal child: and that is why we’re appealing it anyway! Give it a year or two and that rule will be nothing but dust and I can reveal myself properly :D
Fun Uncle: This is why I’m not the dad, I could never discourage such an inventive crafty plan like Sanae is trying to do.
A literal child: idk his Dad Status™ is suspended indefinitely because of the Taboo stuff :/
Two cats in a trenchcoat: Ouch.
A literal child: You know what you did.
“Really though, the Reapers need to up their game if they’re still using that boring trick with the shark, it’s old now.”
The voice rings out from inside WildKat as Neku opens the door, bell chiming above him. He stops, staring at Hanekoma conversing with none other than the kid he’d met yesterday. He stares, brain lurching in stops and starts to process what he just heard.
While he stands immobile, Yuuto turns to look at the newcomer. He smiles when his eyes meet Neku’s. “Neku! Do you know Mr. Hanekoma too?”
He gives a jerky nod, kickstarting his legs to stumble forward, onto a chair near the counter. “Yeah, I do. Did you just-- Did you just mention the Reapers? Did he just say Reapers?” He glances to Hanekoma, who replies with a shrug.
Yuuto’s face lights up, surprise echoed in his jumpy fingers stalling out for a second against the counter, rapid-fire taps ceasing. He bounces in his seat. “I did indeed! You know about the Game?”
After running a hand over his face, and ordering a coffee, he says, “Yeah, I played three weeks of it. It was absolute hell, and things got messy.”
Yuuto winces. “Yikes. I played one week about two years ago, but I’ve always seen the UG.”
Neku’s sharp eyes dart to Hanekoma. Those words raise the hair on his arms, but Hanekoma sighs. “It’s rare for people to see the UG while alive, but it ain’t a unique trait of one person. Lotsa people catch glimpses in their life, but a few always have the sight.”
He hands over the coffee, and Neku places the yen on the counter as he sips it. The cost is still a highway robbery, but he needs the caffeine.
“You didn’t play recently, or I would’ve seen you. I watch the Game as close as I can, but I was out of Shibuya for over a year and got back a few months ago, so it must’ve been during that time, yeah?” Yuuto grins, elbows on the counter as he forks a piece of pancake.
“It was just over a year ago.”
The sound of Hanekoma busying himself fills the air, water running and hands scrubbing. Neku contents himself with the coffee, and Yuuto eats away at his meal, syrup coating his lips. The cafe is warm, warmer than the mural yesterday, and warmer than the snow falling outside.
“So, how’d you die?” Yuuto asks, breaking the silence.
He snorts. “Remember what you mentioned yesterday? About Udagawa being dangerous, how someone had been shot there last year? I am intimately familiar with the event.”
The fork clangs against the plate as Yuuto sets it down, so he can cover his mouth as he laughs. “Oh my god, I had no idea! I asked you if you’d heard about your own death!”
“Can you see why I got defensive when you mentioned now?” Yuuto nods, and Neku decides to follow up with a question of his own: “How did you die anyway? If you get to know my death, it’s fair.”
His mouth snaps shut, teeth clicking together. Yuuto looks away, and taps his foot against the leg of his chair. He’s quiet, and Neku is about to tell him not to worry about answering when he speaks up, voice dimmer than the burnt-out bulb in the ceiling.
“I shot myself in the head. I wanted to have first-hand experience with the Game, my family was shit, and well, if I did it right, I’d get to keep my one friend, yeah? I learned from Mr. H later that suicidal tendencies run high when you’ve got the ability to see the UG, but I’d already gone through with it all. I don’t even have that friend of mine anymore, but I’ve got a broom and I’m beating back depression until it’s out of this brain!” he says, saccharine smile brightening his face and as he gives thumbs up.
Neku can see the way it wavers, the way the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, if you need another broom-wielder to help you beat up depression, I’ve got some skill in that field. I’d suggest upgrading to a frying pan, though.”
Yuuto chuckles, and there, the smile softens into something more genuine. “I’ll be sure to call. Or, I will, if you’d indulge me by giving me your number,” he says, fishing out his phone.
“Sure, hand it over.” Neku takes the phone and plugs in his number. When he gets it back, Yuuto sits there, typing a quick message, and he feels the distinct buzz of his own phone go off. The message reads a simple ^Hi! This is Yuuto!^ with about 20 sparkly emojis.
Half of them end up in the contact name.
“You, of course,” Yuuto says, “are welcome to call me in case of brain-fuckery as well. Maybe we can invest in some rope and tie depression up so it can’t escape and get to us again.”
“Hah, alright. I wonder if it likes being painted with neon colors! If we get it to hold still I can test that.”
“Maybe I’ll see what I can do about stabbing it with my violin bow. Or I could just play god-awful annoying notes!”
A pause. Then they both burst out laughing. Neku holds his stomach and grips the counter to steady himself, while Yuuto flaps his hands in the air, high-pitched gasps escaping his mouth.
“If you make me laugh like that again you’ll be the second death of me, I swear!” Neku says, catching his breath.
Yuuto holds up his phone and makes a show of flipping through some apps. “Damn, I just checked my schedule. I can’t get myself accused of murder this February. I guess I’ll have to reschedule all my jokes to March, does that work for you?”
“I’ve got finals in March, I’m dying then anyway. Might as well go out with a laugh, instead of drowning in coffee and insomnia!” He risks drinking his coffee, hoping the next words out of Yuuto’s mouth won’t make him do a spit-take.
“Yikes, finals,” he says. “I’m homeschooled, but even I know those are utter hell. Let me know if you’re on your deathbed, I’ll come with coffee and some bad jokes prepared to send you off.”
Neku places a hand over his heart and mock-gasps. “Truly, how kind of you! Such an offer to put me out of my misery is appreciated. I might have to take you up on that. Bury me with my headphones and the script of the joke that does me in.”
“Noted. I’ll make sure to write it down! Any other last requests before you die?”
“Don’t donate my art supplies, I’ll be back after the next Game week,” he says. Then, holding a dramatic hand to his forehead, he fakes exasperation. “Death won’t solve my finals problem if I just come back later to deal with the aftermath.”
Yuuto mimes taking off a hat and holding it to his chest. “You have my sincere condolences. What an absolute tragedy. Death is not the answer.”
Before Neku can continue the charades, his phone buzzes, and he finds a text from his mom. With a wince, he looks outside and sees the darkening sky.
“I’d better be going home. It’s getting dark, unfortunately. Make sure you message me though!”
“Of course, get home safe,” Yuuto replies. “I should get home soon too, but if worst comes to worst, it wouldn’t be the first time I crash here.”
Neku stands, downing the rest of his coffee. He tosses it in the trash as he heads out. “See ya!”
“Ya sure you wanna be takin’ this risk, J?” Hanekoma asks, giving Josh a pointed look.
He sighs, running fingers through his hair, letting the black bleed out of it and turn to white. “It’s worth it. This is Neku, any risk is worth it to see him again, no matter how foolish you may believe I’m being.”
“It’s a good idea, kid, but it might hurt your chances in the appeals court,” Kariya chimes in, before popping his lollipop back in his mouth.
“The HG takes forever,” he whines. “I can’t wait two more years before seeing him again. Besides, maybe if I show how I’m not negatively affecting him with my presence they’ll see the benefits of removing the rule.”
“Or, they’ll still see this as a breach of your repercussions and clip your wings.” Hanekoma grabs a mug, using a cloth to clean it as he talks. “They won’t be lenient, ya know. You broke so many rules.”
“But I followed their no RG rule perfectly for a year!” He slices through the air with his waving hands, a hiss escaping from his mouth. “It’s ridiculous! I’m being censured to hell, I was banned from interacting with my own RG, and now they want me to refrain from speaking to the one person who matters most, who deserves to hear what I have to say!”
He’s throwing a fit, he knows, but he’s spent a year bubbling with acid in his blood, eating away at his patience and sanity. It burns his tongue, and he wants to spit it, let it bite at someone else.
A hand touches his, and he freezes. Kariya is at his side. Joshua doesn’t pull back.
“It’s a punishment for a reason, kiddo, it’s not supposed to be fair. They just didn’t factor in your crafty stubbornness, or the consequences it’d have on your mental health.” Kariya sighs, and Josh leans his head on his shoulder. “Neku is good for you, anyone can see that, they’re failing to weigh punishment against potential futures.”
“They don’t like me,” he mutters, petulant, closing his eyes. Kariya isn’t warm, but the touch is his choice, and anyone can be a decent pillow if he trusts them enough.
“You make yourself hard to like. The issue is that they don’t give you the respect you deserve in your role. They’ve always taken poorly to young upstarts becoming Composer.”
Josh snorts. “Well they best get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.”
Hanekoma sighs. “And what happens when you get the repeal? What will you tell Neku?”
A stone settles in his gut, but he breathes. He takes a few seconds to collect his thoughts. “I’ll be simple. I’ll tell him everything. I’ll reveal who I am and why I did what I did.”
“Tell him about the HG?”
His eyes narrow, as he nods. “I’m not going to hide anything from him.”
“How do you know he won’t think you’re lying?”
“I guess I’ll have to trust my Partner, won’t I?”
Josh loses the staring contest between them, because needles stab his eyes from the contact, but his point is made. “Besides, you can always back up my claims. The HG wants him, right? It’d be pointless to deny their own existence, once he’s been told.”
Hanekoma raises an eyebrow. “And you’d let them take him, would you?”
“Oh please,” he says, rolling his eyes and stretching out his back. “As if I’d make anything easy for them! It’s Neku’s decision, in the end, but any info he gets from the HG is biased, so why can’t I share my own biased info in return?”
Hanekoma sets down the mug and the cloth, and takes a long, drawn out breath as he rubs a hand down his face. “Why are you like this?” he mutters.
“It’s just part of my charm.”