Chapter Text
Vanitas stared angrily at the rice cooker. Steam billowed from the tiny hole in the lid as the device screamed at him, then clicked loudly once and went silent.
He jumped.
Gabriel gave him a smile that was simultaneously reassuring and pitying. “Just means the rice is done, Vanitas. That’s supposed to happen. Now, open the lid and let’s get this turned out to a bowl so we can fan it and add the vineg-”
“WHAT THE FUCK, JOSH?”
Vanitas and Gabriel both winced in unison. “I’ll do this. You go break up the train wreck in progress.” Gabriel sighed. “Josh’ll listen to me, but it’s Neku who’s going to need calming down. If Josh were pissed, the apartment bock wouldn’t be here anymore.”
Vanitas frowned, grabbing the skittering Flood at his feet by its scruff, throwing the beast on a shoulder. “Wait for me for anything after.”
“The rice has to cool before we can make sushi, and I can’t dilate time,” Gabriel Insisted. “Go on.”
“No. I’m not doing it.”
At least Neku wasn’t screaming anymore. Vanitas was fairly sure if he were alive, his ears would have been bleeding. He was quickly learning that the only thing more annoying than a powerful angel was one still learning how to keep themselves in check.
“Hey, Vanitas,” Joshua said cooly, as if he didn’t notice the fuming angel opposite him at the low table in the middle of the room.
Fuming as in both angry and currently on fire.
“Don’t you bring someone else into this,” Neku huffed.
“Would you care to explain to Neku what you’ve been asking me to do three times a week?”
Vanitas wrung his hands, breaking eye contact with them both.
“Wait,” Neku said, extinguishing himself in his sudden realization. “You… ask… for it?”
Vanitas had half a mind to ask for reincarnation right there so he could leave this world on the spot.
Joshua’s feathers puffed up. For a moment, Vanitas thought he was mad, but realized quickly the blonde was embarrassed. “I… oh. You never said to keep it a secret and Uri and Gabe knew…”
Vanitas sighed down at sat nearer to Neku than Josh. “I’ve been asking Joshua to imprint on me a few times a week to help me manage my emotions and anxiety. It’s working, but I have a long way to go.”
Neku blinked twice.
“A tool is a tool, Neku,” Joshua said sternly. “Nearly every tool has beneficial uses. Dynamite was meant for mining, after all.”
Vanitas howled with laughter at his realization of what was happening. He couldn’t help it, heck, that was the next thing on his list of wayward emotions he wanted to work on controlling correctly as his parrot Unversed unleashed on his shoulder, howling with him. Eventually, he exhaled out, smiling lightly, the brightly colored bird’s own shrieks slowly quieting alongside his own. “Let me guess. You told Neku he needed to learn to imprint, and Neku, you said no. Violently.”
“I… I would have to practice on a person,” Neku admitted. “I got into a fight with Mr. H about it too.”
“The last thing you need is a Player or Reaper in hysterics that you can’t calm down,” Joshua said lazily. “A human might have a knife on them. A Reaper could accidentally take out a city block. And sometimes… well. It’s not often- but sometimes there’s a person who can only be dealt with via extraordinary measures.”
“Mr. H said the same thing,” Neku admitted. “I just snapped at him and he told me to go talk to a few other angels about it.”
“I’ll say the same,” Gabriel shot from downstairs. “Sometimes it’s the only way I can help set a reaper’s broken wing. Uri’ll agree too.”
Neku pulled himself inward, blanketing himself in his own wings. “I still don’t like it.”
“Then remember that feeling,” Joshua said with a tsk-ing motion. “It’ll keep you honest. You’re a being of nearly infinite power. You remember it took an act of God to take down one high ranked Reaper. How many angels would need to fight you if you went rogue?”
Neku sighed. “How long until I’m used to this?”
Joshua shrugged. “Think that’s a question for other former humans. I kind of just… existed one day. So yeah. Practice with someone who trusts you. And more than one person. You’ll get used to dealing with them specifically and make mistakes.”
Neku’s shoulder slumped, defeated. “What, you gonna let me imprint on you?”
“Sure, why not?” Joshua shrugged.
Vanitas huffed. “You can use me too. Just don’t make me embarrass myself in public.”
Neku’s wings curled further inward. “I don’t want to make you do anything.”
“So, who tested out my pins for Shinjuku again?” Joshua asked with a sharp grin. “I remember someone insisting on being my guinea pig last month.”
“Fuck off, Josh,” Neku groaned. This time, he had no bite to his voice.
“How do angels fuck, exactly?” Vanitas said with a grin. “You don’t have any… well,” Vanitas gestured vaguely in Joshua’s direction. “Neku, do you?”
“Of course I have a… wait. I only have one because I think I do, right?”
Joshua let loose a Cheshire cat grin. “Bingo, heck if you wanna be a girl, nothing stopping you. Or try being a duck! I hear theirs are corkscrews.”
Neku turned a shade of crimson all the way through his feathers.
“Seriously, though. You’re going to have to practice changing your body, too, now that you’ve got it under control. If nothing else, you can’t look like a sixteen-year-old forever, at least while your parents are alive and you’re under their roof.”
“I know that,” Neku huffed. “‘S just another thing I don’t want to think about. Hanekoma is having an all hands meeting in ten days to formally introduce me as the new Composer and I am not ready for this. My Reapers have all been doing it way longer than me.”
“One step at a time, Neku. Wouldn’t have asked for that assignment for you if I didn’t think you couldn’t do it.”
Joshua sat opposite Neku, the following Monday evening. They were in Hachioji, in Hanekoma’s apartment above his café, a tarp lining half the room with ten canvases in different states of completion.
Neku inhaled, staring awkwardly at the angel opposite. “How the… how do I even start?”
“Well, we’re doing this in Hachioji for a reason. This is your domain now, so you’re at your most powerful here. And it’s not Shibuya, so I’m not omnipotent.”
“I figured that much,” Neku muttered. “Being here just… it feels different. I’ve started hearing the city, if that makes sense. Like, the whole thing, like it’s something alive.”
Joshua nodded. “It’s a part of you now. You can tune into it more or less as you get used to it. Ignore it or hear the entire city’s thoughts at once. Change the mood, change the weather.”
“That would explain the freak thunderstorm last night when I got mad at my homework.”
Neku pointed to the pile of canvases. One was snapped in half.
“You could fix that with a thought, you know.”
Neku nodded, looking at the pile. “I know. But right now, it’s a reminder of my failure. When I get out of my artist’s block, I’ll repair it.”
“What was the theme?”
“Seeing through someone else’s’ eyes. Like, paint a picture of something on TV or through a camera phone lens. It’s about distortion.”
Joshua chuckled. “Well, I’m right here.”
“You can’t paint for shit, and I’m not tuning in work that’s not mine.”
“Neku, I mean use me to paint. You’re right. In your so eloquent words, I cannot paint for shit. That’s not my art; I sing. You kill two birds with one stone this way. You’ll know if you’re imprinting right because it won’t look like a kid did it.”
“Most kids paint better than you.”
“See? Proof.” Joshua leaned lazily backwards on the cushioned sofa; his wings slotted into divots meant just for the purpose. “Missed this thing. I used to crash with Hanekoma at WildKat before I got the apartment with the other angels, you know.”
Neku exhaled and where there was a pile of wood splinters stood a clean blank canvas. He flicked a finger and it found itself neatly on the easel in the middle of the tarp. “At least my powers aren’t that much different than using pins. Learning curve hasn’t been bad.”
Neku shook out his head, looking backwards to Joshua, who was willing his infinite eyes onto and off his exposed skin, likely in a bid to creep Neku out. Too bad the newly minted angel had done the same earlier that day when he’d been getting dressed for school. Ignoring the weirdness of it, Neku spoke as authoritatively as he could muster. “Okay. What do I do?”
Joshua stopped examining his nails, the extra eyes receding away in an instant. He almost looked like he was pouting. “Well, there’s a few ways to induce someone. You could make a pin, like the O-pins or the ones we used to make the human wall in Shinjuku.”
“I’m still learning Angel language. No.”
“Or you can do what I do on individuals and do verbal suggestion. Or how Gabriel induces people.”
“How does she do it?”
“Prefer a demo, I know how? But you might not actually go under since you’re the Composer and all.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Joshua stood up, put a hand on Neku’s cheek and another on his shoulder, and jerked his wrists in opposite directions. Neku went completely boneless, falling into Joshua’s arms.
Joshua snapped in front of his face a few times before Neku blinked, groggily wiping a trail of saliva on the back of his hand.
“Like that.”
“Ugh. That felt like the pin. Like I wasn’t in my body.”
“All of them will feel that way to the imprinted person. Unless you specifically dictate how their consciousness feels.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Not asking you to. Your turn.”
“I’ll… try talking you through.” Neku sighed. “Show me that.”
“It’s actually a bit harder that way. You need to put your voice on multiple frequencies at once. But here.” Joshua sighed and sat back down, crossing one leg over another like a therapist in every movie Neku had seen. “Sit on the couch before you fall on your face.”
Neku lifted his wings, resting them over the back of the couch, and exhaled.
“Neku, look at me.” Neku could hear a honey-sweet chorus behind Joshua’s words. He’d heard him imprint this way before, when they were in the arcade as a big group and Vanitas had a panic attack. But he’d never had it directed at him before. It was soft, and gentle, and he listened.
“Now hold your breath.”
Neku stopped breathing. He didn’t need to breathe, not anymore. But, quickly, he felt the pain in his chest of the feeling that he needed to.
He exhaled.
Suddenly, he felt in control of himself again.
“You broke it, not bad.”
“Yeah, well you made me stop breathing.”
“I’m good enough that if you were alive you would have died by asphyxiation.” Joshua’s face was unreadable.
“But you wouldn’t.”
“I mean, I wasn’t going to quit for you. But I know what an angel can handle.”
“If you want me to get mad at you, it’s working.”
“Fantastic, then, direct your anger at me.” Joshua smiled.
“The last time I got pissed, Haniel had to help me wind back time on my entire bedroom. Least Mom was out grocery shopping. I’m not sure I have it in me to wipe memories either.”
“So that’s why you do your art here.”
“Nah, I never did it in the house. Parents weren’t happy with the mess. Or even that I was more interested in art. Mom was ecstatic when Mr. H stopped by to offer the ‘empty space above his shop’ to me as a studio. Bonus is that he sometimes puts my work up in the café. I’ve been using it as a starting point for influencing Hachioji.”
“So, you’re imprinting.”
Neku froze. “I… guess I am. But I’m not… forcing people. Just pouring a little of my own soul in the art.”
“Yeah, well, all this is, is pouring a whole lot more nudging in. How do you do it?”
“Strings.” Neku sat in front of the blank canvas. “Like… there’s a string connecting my hand to my brush, and another one to the canvas. I just… kind of send a bit of myself through it. Like an internet cable.”
“You mean like a marionette wire, Neku.”
Neku dropped his brush, horrified. “I am… I am doing this to people, aren’t I?”
“So? People influence each other all the time. You’re nudging them, not possessing them. Neku, you’re an angel now, and you’ve got a city to protect.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t ask for this.” Neku slumped forward, sliding off his stool, down onto the paint- flecked tarp.
“Neku, I have a feeling that you have enough Imagination that even though you couldn’t play the game when you died, the Angels might have come for you anyway. I don’t think it was a matter of if here. Just when. So, either you can rule this place with some ethics, or you can turn into what I was before you gave me a good mental smack to the pavement. Your choice. I know you’re going to say, ‘I don’t like it’,” Joshua added, mimicking Neku’s voice exactly as he irritably intoned the words, “but tough deal. That’ll keep you honest.”
Neku stood up, flapped his wings twice for balance, and put his hands on Joshua’s shoulders, pushing him to the stool in front of the easel. “Last chance to back out then.”
Joshua relaxed, his own wings sweeping lazily on the ground at his sides. “Just do it.”
Neku thought of the strings, this time, in greater numbers and with far more force. They extended from his fingertips, aiming for the teenage-looking eldritch horror sitting on the stool in front of him, back exposed and trusting him completely.
“Just like the game,” Neku muttered below the audible spectrum. “Trust my partner.”
Joshua felt like he was being squeezed by a million steel cables but didn’t attempt to break free. Not unless he felt it was going to be a problem; Neku could learn finesse later. Right now, the newly minted angel just needed to learn how to imprint. Joshua could ignore the pain, at least the first few times; he just knew he’d tease the other mercilessly later once Neku got his own magic down to a science. Or an art, as it were.
He felt a jerking tug on the writing mass of cabling and sat up straight. It wasn’t an order, not like how he gave it, but he could feel Neku trying to correct his absurdly lax posture.
“Joshua…” Neku said in worried shock. “You’re… crying.”
And suddenly the cables were gone.
The next thing Joshua realized was Hanekoma looming over him on the couch, ice on his head and a gentle and familiar set of hands running through his right wing, his left tucked around him like a blanket.
“Sanae,” Joshua hissed, dropping any formalities now that his relationship with the barista was known to all parties present, until he spied two unknown Reapers passed out on a futon on the floor. They were in casual clothing, so at least they were off the clock, unless wearing whatever they wanted was the uniform for reapers here. The hoodies were kind of a Shibuya and Shinjuku thing; Joshua didn’t know too many of the other Grounds, but he did know the Reapers in Chiyoda cosplayed.
“Wasn’t the kid. Was me,” Hanekoma gruffed out. “Neku came down to the shop in a panic. I tried to calm him, but, well, he’s not the only one whose powers don’t do what they’re told.” Hanekoma guiltily unfolded a plucked wing. “They’re a bit haywire. Knocked you out too, boss. And two off duty Reapers. Just glad there weren’t any players or living people in the shop.”
“Not your boss anymore, Sanae.”
“Well, maybe so, but you outrank me now, so gotta give deference where it’s due.”
“Shove it,” Joshua said playfully as he slowly shifted up, moving the wing out from under Hanekoma’s soothing ministrations. Neku was dead to the world in Hanekoma’s hammock overhead, wings twitching erratically as he snored. “Did miss the preening though, ugh, Gabe just can’t do it like you can. How about we swap, and you tell me what I missed? Those boiled chicken wings have to itch.”
“My mouth tases like coffee,” Neku whined overhead. “What the fuck… where…”
“I… uh… used too much juice, Boss. Sorry about that. Use your telekinesis to let yourself down or I’ll get’cha.”
“Josh?” Neku asked in a bit of a panic.
“Here, totally fine, thanks. Neku, if there really were a problem, don’t you think I would have said something?”
Neku shifted upright in the hammock, wobbled, and face planted onto the hardwood floor, jerking the other two Reapers awake and scared. One grabbed the other tightly, shoving their head into the others’ chest.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Neku said soothingly, as he pulled himself upright and tucked his wings high up on his back. He walked forward and shyly offered an arm. “Er, I think the bigger question is are you two okay?”
“Angel!” a one squeaked, frozen in fear.
Neku looked behind him before realizing he was the person they were talking to. Josh had shifted his own wings to look like a Reaper’s, and the two were already familiar with their fallen-angel Conductor.
“Er. Yeah. Hi.” Neku scratched the back of his neck, a bit at a loss for words. “Shit. Um. Well.”
Neku plopped on the floor, lowering himself to their eye level. “Uh. So. Hi. I’m Neku. I’m the new Composer of Hachioji. Y-you’re not in trouble. I was working on some art up here and… let’s say my powers went haywire and leave it at that.”
Neku held out a hand. “So, uh, what’s your name? Mr. H., you’ll call their superior officer and let them know they’re off the hook, right?”
“On it, boss.” Hanekoma stood up, ruffled Neku’s hair casually, and strode downstairs to give them some quiet.
“You’re our new Composer?” the other Reaper asked quietly, twirling a lock of hair. Their voices sounded similar, and they looked it, too. Siblings, perhaps?
“Yeah, I got transferred about a month ago. Like… end of August? There was going to be a formal introduction at the next all-hands meeting, but, uh. Sorry about that. I’m still not used to overseeing the city, so Mr. H. was holding off ‘till I got a handle on it.”
“Nana.” The girl who had buried her head in the other sat upright, relaxing her wings into a half fold. Neku recognized that pose from the Reapers he knew; it signified they were calm and alert. Hanekoma had done him a solid by messing with his hair, too; it made him seem more casual.
“That your name?” Neku asked the girl who had replied, to a quick nod from Nana.
“And I’m Hachi,” said the other one.
“Uh… is it bad etiquette here for me to be this candid with you guys? Sorry. I’m used to the Shibuya and Shinjuku Reapers.”
“Ugh. You’re too cute. I bet you’re the wrong century for me,” Hachi whined, smiling. “Everyone’s either extremely young, or hundreds of years old… like a certain Mister Hanekoma,” she added, with a glare at the stairwell.
Neku blushed. “Uh.”
“This is your city now, your Reapers are going to see you with rose tinted glasses,” Joshua said, languidly on the sofa. “I’m going downstairs and getting some tea.”
Neku watched as Joshua passed, sliding down the banister to the café below. “One of my -ahem- Reaper friends from Shibuya. He’s been helping me make the transition here,” Neku said, glaring at Joshua for ditching him.
“He can leave his district?”
“It’s possible, under certain conditions. I’m not sure if you heard what happened in Shinjuku over the summer.”
The two reapers stood as Neku did the same, shaking their heads.
“I’ll give the long version at the hands-on meeting. But the short version is the district Producer and Conductor conspired against their Composer, making the games unwinnable for players and deadly for the Reapers. It was… a problem. I got caught up in it. I… ah, it doesn’t do any good to skirt the truth here. I got turned into an Angel because of what happened there. So, I’m pretty new to my powers. And I’m not nearly as old or seasoned as people like Mr. H.”
Nana looked at him with some surprise. The two girls did look roughly Neku’s age, but so did Joshua, at least his ‘normal’ face did. “Oh right… Reapers can become Angels can’t they? Mr. H told us that’s why his wings are all weird. They’re black like a Reaper’s is but they look like brid wings with all the feathers off.”
“He’ll get his own powers back, eventually, when they regrow,” Neku admitted with a nod. “But he’s old hat at this. How are you finding him as Conductor?”
“Ugh. Way better than the last one. And you’re already miles better than our last Composer,” Nana admitted.
“And better looking,” Hachi said under her breath.
Neku turned pink clear through his hair and wings and the two girls laughed, realizing at least that they were used to having a Composer that they knew. Haniel seemed to be elusive as a Producer, though. “So, uh. Sorry about you two getting caught up in this.”
“Not a problem at all,” Hachi said, turning to the stack of canvases. “So, this is what you were working on? It and some of the new pieces downstairs didn’t seem like Mr. H’s art. Didn’t even realize you were up here.”
“Yeah, I… ugh,” Neku couldn’t lie to these two like Joshua had so cooly done to his Reapers for who-knows-how-long before he’d been his Game proxy. “It’s for a high school project.”
“Wait, you still go to school?” Hachi nudged Nana in the ribs.
“Right, you guys don’t,” Neku said with a nod. “My parents don’t even know I ever died. So uh, yeah. I have been.”
“You could just disappear. Why bother with it?” Hachi asked, cocking her head to one side.
“I… kinda like school,” Neku admitted. “And it’s in Shibuya. Er, sorry to hold that over your heads. Angels aren’t bound by the district walls.”
“Your family there too, huh?” Nana asked. “Mine is. We were out here visiting the park after going to the Ghibli Museum and got hit by a truck. My bad. Do miss my sis, though.”
Neku wasn’t going to sort through that can of worms as he plopped himself on the stool in front of his canvas, whining out a sigh.
Hachi giggled behind her hand. “So, what’s the project? Looks like you’ve got some bad artist’s block, Mister Teenage Angel.”
“Ugh, it’s due tomorrow too, and I still suck at stopping time.”
“What is your specialty?”
“Pissing people off,” Neku said with a lopsided grin. “It’s… pouring my Soul in my art. Though I’m still working on other things. I’m pretty good at pyrokinesis.”
“Just do a wood burning,” Nana said playfully.
“I… I was practicing imprinting when you guys got hit with collateral. Well, not mine. Mr. H. knocked out everyone in the building when I panicked because I thought I was hurting J- Yoshiya. My friend from Shibuya.”
“Lemme guess, he told you to practice on him.”
“Y-yeah.”
“If you became an angel by being a Reaper, you played the Game at one point, didn’t you?”
“Yeah…?” Neku looked at the two girls, not quite catching on. “He was my partner back then. A right bastard, too.” Neku chuckled at that.
“Trust your partners,” they said in unison, before Nana added. “He trusts you enough to let you practice imprinting on him. If you’re our Composer you’ve gotta be able to handle some pretty tough stuff. We might have hated Zeke- our last Composer- but we did respect the old fart.”
Partners. Neku realized they’d emphasized a plural and sighed, realizing Hachioji wasn’t just going to be a knockoff version of Shibuya.
“We did,” Hachi admitted, bringing him back to reality. “And when a new Reaper flew into a panic or a rage, or needed someone to pull them back to reality, he was there.”
“Jo- Yoshiya told me the same thing. I just… I don’t like possessing people. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Isn’t that better than enjoying it?” Hachi asked. “Our last Conductor did; why, it’s why Zeke got him fired. And, I do mean that literally.”
Neku sighed but got up from the stool. “Yeah. It is. And I trust him. Yoshiya I mean. I’m not sure I could ever trust someone who possesses people for the fun of it.”
“And he trusts you. Just so you know, you can practice imprinting on me anytime, Neku.” Hachi grinned wide.
“Hachi!” Neku said, embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, I am way too old for you,” Hachi said grinning. “Nana, though…”
“How old are you, exactly?” Neku spluttered. “You two almost look like twins.”
“Hachi’s my grandma,” Nana replied, nudging her. “We died together and played the game together. She’s been trying to set me up with a boy ever since. Jeez, G-mom. I’m not dating an angel. Even if he was a human once.”
“For eff’s sake!” Neku cried. “Come on! Ugh, okay. I deserved all that. Let’s go downstairs and raid Mr. H’s sandwich case, my treat. Then I’m sending you two back to your assignments or your dorms.”
“So you can possess your boyfriend to paint?” Hachi asked, clearly egging Neku on.
“He’s not my-“
“You smell a ton like him,” Hachi insisted.
“I… Ugh! This is not fair! You’re doing this to embarrass me!”
“Damn right I am, kiddo,” Hachi said, smiling. “I’m not letting you off easy.”
“You doing better, Neku?”
Joshua rolled his shoulders, and his wings adjusted back to his true feathered ones, draped along the couch.
“You ditched me,” Neku pouted, inhaling a sandwich, a thermos of Hanekoma’s coffee on the table next to him. “That was super low.”
“You made some friends though.”
“No, some grandma was trying to set me up with her dead granddaughter.”
“I owe Sanae 5,000 yen,” Joshua pouted. “Thought they were mother and daughter.”
“Ugh!” Neku threw his hands in the air. “Everyone today. Really. At this point I’m going to have to change my face and name so I don’t f- so I don’t embarrass myself at the all-hands.”
“I mean you can practice that instead.”
“Another day,” Neku said, defeated, not even wanting to think about shapeshifting. “Right now, I have something I didn’t finish.”
“Mhmm. And, just an F-Y-I, if you think I’m in pain, read my mind while you’re doing it,” Joshua said, walking rover and siding onto the stool in front of the still blank canvas. “Night’s burning fast, Neku. Your parents’ll start texting you soon.”
“I hate you,” Neku sighed.
“Nothing about not wanting to read my mind too?” Joshua asked, egging Neku on.
“I did that enough times in the Game; I can’t say I’m above doing it,” Neku insisted. “Now, uh. Relax or something. I’ll try being less forceful this time.”
“Just read my surface thoughts,” Joshua insisted “Unless you want to relive some really weird porn.”
Neku blanched, and Joshua gave him a mental tap.
Just kidding, Neku. Tried to lighten the mood.
“That’s anything but funny,” Neku whined, as he slowly let the strings out of his hands, listening to Joshua’s thoughts as he did so.
“I’m impressed. Since when did Josh learn to paint?”
Neku whipped around. Hanekoma stood behind him with his arms crossed.
“Also, I’ve literally never seen Josh this quiet or focused.”
“Yeah, well,” Neku started, before realizing he was speaking out of both his and Joshua’s mouths. “This is really weird.”
You’re not the life size puppet, Joshua mentally muttered.
“Awwww, I remember when you let me order you around,” Hanekoma said playfully, poking Joshua on the nose. “Neku’s playing nice?”
For his first time, I’m impressed. Are we done? I kind of want to stretch.
“Yeaaaaah, Neku, your mom’s downstairs and she’s… well. She’s pissed.”
Neku let his focus drain off his friend in a sharp panic; Joshua bounced once on the floor before he regained composure.
“You had it coming, Boss,” Hanekoma said with a small smile.
Joshua rubbed his temple, soothing the pain. “Which one of us?”
Hanekoma chucked. “Yes.”
Neku might regularly set himself on fire (on accident or otherwise), but Hiroko Sakuraba was fuming. Short, wild ginger hair (possible but extremely rare on a Japanese person and something Neku was mercilessly teased for), and a little on the round side, Hiroko was always two steps from eating someone alive when she was pissed.
“Neku do you have any idea what time it is? On a school night?”
“I… I was working on my homework!” Neku replied, flinging a finger towards the studio steps.
“I don’t care if you were talking to the Prime Minister, it’s past midnight. And you weren’t answering your phone. Be glad Mr. Hanekoma did. I’d ground you for this, but then you’d be painting in the house.”
Neku sighed. “Mom, how awake are you and Dad?”
“Extremely,” Mrs. Sakuraba hissed at him, arms crossed.
“I... I think it’s time I talked to you about something important,” Neku said. “But it’s going to take a while and-”
“No,” Hiroko said firmly, holding Neku’s collar still. “You’ll tell us tonight. I’m going to assume it’ll explain why you’ve been acting so odd this past month.”
Hanekoma made a shooing motion at Neku.
“Let me just… grab my phone and canvas.”
“Course, Boss,” Hanekoma said. “Don’t forget anything up there.”
Hiroko exhaled, turning to Hanekoma once Neku was out of earshot. “So, you think he’ll finally explain his superpowers to his own parents, hm?”
Hanekoma grinned. “Thanks for trusting me with the kid.”
“I’m not sure what to think right now, honestly,” Hiroko said quietly. “You didn’t explain much other than showing me your own magic. Are there, what, supervillains? Has he been fighting crime?”
“You read too many comics, Mrs. Sakuraba, it’s nothing like that.”
“Comics?” Neku asked, hopping down the stairs two at a time, art in one hand and school bag in the other.
“Mr. Hanekoma told us you have superpowers. And if that’s not what this talk was going to be about, well. We’ll make it about that.”
Neku’s wings fluffed up, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths to try and bring calm back to both sets of shoulders.
His parents sat opposite him at the kitchen table, his mother Hiroko still in clothes, and more wired than a call center. Hanekoma must have given her some Soul-infused coffee. That or she was beyond upset.
Neku wasn’t sure which. Both was possible.
His father, Jiro, was the definition of average. Average height, average build, average haircut, average desk job. Neku and Jiro never saw eye-to-eye mostly because Neku had nothing to say to him other than the most basic of platitudes. If his father had any kind of hobbies or passions of his own, he never showed them. He just sort of… existed. It was like the world had sucked him dry of any personality at some point.
How his parents were even married to begin with was its own story.
“Yeah, that was what I wanted to bring up. Makes sense you let me run off to Mr. H’s if you knew. What did he tell you?”
“He didn’t say much. He set his hand on fire and levitated one of our water glasses when he stopped by to offer the studio space for you. Said your powers were tied to your art, and that you’d eventually tell us on your own. I almost didn’t believe him, but that night I got up around three to get a glass of water and I peeked in your bedroom. You were… well. I’m not sure human was the right word. You looked like you were made of paint. But I knew it was you, somehow. And after a few minutes, you shifted back and woke up and started sketching. I’ve noticed little things here and there since. You’ve dropped a glass, but it didn’t break. And we always seem to have just one more cup of orange juice in the carton.”
Jiro fiddled with a pale blue pajama sleeve. “I’m worried about you, son.”
Neku pulled his knees to his chest. His father rarely strung more than three words together for anyone.
“I…” Neku started. “Yeah. Um, don’t be mad about what I’m going to say but… I died last month. Mr. H. Is dead too.”
“You… what.” Hiroko said sharply. Jiro put his hand over his wife’s.
“Hear him out, Hiroko. We got into this mess because we didn’t listen.”
Neku sat, stunned.
“I… I’ll give you the whole story another time because it’s really really long,” Neku admitted. He only needed an hour or three of sleep at most now, but his parents needed some rest.
Neku fidgeted for his school bag and opened it. Two pairs of the visibility goggles had been shoved inside. Hanekoma or Joshua’s doing, Neku realized, as he passed one to each of his parents.
“Put these on,” he said nervously.
Hiroko, fit the first time in her life, had no words.
“Wings,” Jiro said on both their behalves.
Hiroko lifted and lowered the goggles a few times, sticking a finger through the five-yen coins to make sure there wasn’t some kind of trick.
“You can see the world of the dead with them on, an angel made them for me to use a while ago,” Neku explained. “They’re made from five-yen coins people wished on and tossed into Meiji Shrine, so they’ve been blessed. Look at Mr. H. with them next time.”
“He has wings too?” Hiroko asked, reaching out to touch one. Carefully, Neku shifted in his seat to free a shoulder, twisting the limb to let it splay out on the table.
“If you’re going to touch, be careful. An angel’s power comes from their wings. It… might hurt.”
Jiro looked at him. “You said you were dead. You’re an angel then?”
Neku’s mother raised a hand, looking cautiously at the gigantic primary feathers spread like open fingers, and touched one.
Neku felt a jolt all the way up his wing and into his shoulder. Worry, mixed with love.
“Mom!”
Hiroko snapped her own hand back, blinking out tears. “You’re afraid.”
“Of course I am,” Neku snapped. “I risked my own life to save my friends. This is what happened. I died, and God- well, a God- made me an angel.”
Hiroko stood up, and, despite her small stature, scooped Neku into her arms. “You’ll always be my baby boy,” she cried into his shoulder, pulling him into a hug and letting the full blast of his emotions from every feather touching her take hold. “This… this didn’t start in August, did it? You’ve been hiding something for a lot longer than that. You were so shut in… we couldn’t get through to you. But your father’s right. It was because I wasn’t willing to listen.”
“You thought my art was stupid,” Neku breathed into his mother’s sweater.
“No, I thought it was a hobby that was preventing you from studying, not that that’s much better. Your father wanted to encourage it and I put my foot down. He was an artist too, before we had you.”
“I wasn’t making enough money, so I quit,” Jiro said quietly, as Neku tried to life his wings off his mother to prevent her from being overwhelmed by his emotions. “You two needed reliable food on the table. After a while, I resented art.”
“Until you came home with all your projects,” Hiroko added, holding her son at arm’s length by his shoulders to look at him more closely.
“I wanted to paint with you, but… Hiroko reminded me we shouldn’t encourage it. You needed to study, get into a good school, support yourself someday.”
Neku felt a deep chill of resentment run through him and his mother let go with a sharp cry.
“I deserved that,” she muttered, rubbing her hands as Neku tried to warm himself up again, picking shards of ice from his hair.
“No, you didn’t,” Neku said, calmly. “I don’t agree with what you did, but I can at least understand why.” He didn’t need to even read his parents minds. They all just needed to talk. For once.
“That wasn’t the actual catalyst, though,” Neku said, once he’d warmed himself back up and the three of them moved to sitting on the tatami in the living room so he could spread his wings out on the floor without needing to awkwardly prop them up on a kitchen chair or phase them through it. “It was… it was after his death. My friend. We used to do art during lunch together or between classes. You remember the accident.”
“It was on the street corner. There’s still a Jizo there.”
“And who do you think keeps leaving art supplies there?” Neku asked. “You didn’t let me go to the funeral, even. That’s what did it for me.”
“It was on a school day,” Hiroko attempted to justify.
“It would have been one missed day of middle school, dammit!” Neku’s hair was on fire. Not worrying about his powers anymore, his feathers burst into flame to drive his own point home before he extinguished them. “He was my only friend. And I couldn’t even say goodbye.”
Jiro patted the corner of his eyes with his sleeve as Neku swallowed a ball of saliva.
The three of them sat in shaky silence as the wall clock continued to tick away, each second feeling like a week.
“I can’t change the past, Neku,” Hiroko finally said. “The only thing I can ask is you talk to us. And… and I’ll try and do a little more listening. So, what can I do now?”
Neku stared at her. “I don’t know. I wish Mr. H had told me he told you, or even asked me if he could. I wish you hadn’t stomped on my dreams because you were afraid, or even understood what was important to me. Fuck, I wish I knew you better, Dad. All I ever knew from you was the click of your chopsticks after dinner.”
“Then we start. Tomorrow. I’ll take a sick day, and so will you, Neku. Show us your world.” Jiro reached out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Neku took it.
“We’ll go to Shibuya and Shinjuku tomorrow, then,” Neku said quietly. “I’ll show you where I died.”
“So, this is where it started.”
Neku folded his arms, starting upwards at the tag mural in Udagawa, faded from seven months of Mr. H unable to add to it. His parents looked extremely out of place among the band posters, skate shops, and teenagers.
Jiro nodded, and when Hiroko went to open her mouth, he covered it with his hand. “You tell us when it’s okay to ask questions. Otherwise, we’ll just listen.”
Neku swallowed and looked at them, feeling very out of place. “Okay. Well. You know after… after he died and the funeral, I stopped talking to people. I went here after school, mostly. Or just sort of drifted around Shibuya looking at CAT’s art. CAT’s a pretty famous street artist.”
Neku’s mother looked like she was going to burst at the seams.
“Okay, mom. You get a question.”
“He’s like that Banksy guy, right? The street artist that nobody knows who he is?”
Neku grinned a little. “Well, I know who CAT is now. I have a piece or two of his. I’m pretty sure they’re worth a small fortune.” Neku rolled his eyes as his mother looked like she wanted to say something. “No, CAT isn’t me. I’ll introduce you later.”
Neku reached up to touch the concrete wall. “I was here, exactly here, when I was shot. This was back in February, almost two years to the day after… after he was hit.”
He could see his mother about to burst with questions again but glared in a dare that she break her promise stay quiet. After a tense moment of silence, he sighed, sat down next to the mural, and patted the space next to him.
“I promise it’s clean and dry,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Angel’s honor.”
So, his parents sat, and he talked. Told them about the game, and his weeks of hell as skaters tried their best at using the stairwell’s handrail to grind. Most fell on their faces, but, oddly, none seemed to have a scratch on them.
His father noticed, after a time.
“You doing that, son?”
“Nah. Rhyme is. This is her brother’s favorite place.”
“You said the Reap- oh I’ll wait ‘till you’re done. You did say she lives in the area so she must have been brought back to life like Shiki and Yoshiya did.”
“Oof, Yoshiya,” Neku grumbled.
“Speak of the devil?” Joshua’s voice echoed from above.
“Dude, don’t do that,” Neku whined, looking up.
Joshua flapped lazily overhead, haloed by the midday sun and his own general smug attitude.
“Mom, Dad, goggles on and look up.”
“Another angel?” Hiroko asked.
“Dude,” Joshua mocked, “telling living humans is a super no-no.”
“Who’s going to get me in trouble?” Neku asked with a smug grin, as Joshua landed neatly in front of them.
“Eh, good point,” he shrugged, flipping the Sakuraba’s goggles up on their foreheads.
“You can see him now because he’s on the ground, just without the wings, like me,” Neku explained, rolling his eyes. “Mom, Dad, this is the angel Joshua. Or… Yoshiya.”
“You- oh, just finish the story, Neku,” Hiroko sighed out. “This is going to get a lot more complicated.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Joshua said, plopping down on the far end next to Jiro. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Black,” Neku demanded, holding out a hand. Joshua whistled and a can of Boss flung from a nearby vending machine neatly into his waiting palm.
“It’s not theft if I put in correct change,” Joshua reassured them, though Neku knew the brat never did. Two cans of milk tea found themselves in the hands of Neku’s parents, and Neku continued the story.
“So that’s where you went when you got hit by Pi-face’s blast.”
Joshua nodded, sipping a hot lemon tea as cans accumulated at their feet. “Yeah. That attack wouldn’t have killed me, but it really drained me. I needed to lay low for a while. Just so you know, you in that other world was insufferable. I should take you sometime. You’d haaaaate him.”
“Wipe that grin off your face.”
“I mean, you do need to learn how to cross dimensions if you want to go that-a-way,” Joshua said, pointing upward. “Even if you want to be on the front lines for all eternity, you’re going to get called up there sometime.”
“Another thing I don’t want to learn but have to?”
“You got it.”
“So that whole taking the hit for me wasn’t heroic?”
“Oh, fuck no, I was still a self-centered bastard back then. Didn’t learn my lesson for another week. If you got Erased, I lost my game with Kitaniji.”
“You’re still a self-centered bastard.”
“With perspective.”
“Fair.”
Jiro laughed. “You two ended up good friends. I hope you’re showing my son the ropes.”
“Are you kidding? Neku took to magic like a fish to water. There’s just some magic skills he doesn’t want to learn, and that’s why they’re so hard for him.”
“I’m right here, Josh.”
“And you’ll stay that way if you don’t finish the story. C’mon. I don’t know anything about what happened your third Game week. I was stuck in I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Yu-Gi-Oh World most of it.”
“You had to do this AGAIN?” Hiroko asked.
Neku rubbed his temples. If he could get headaches, he was sure he’d have one by now.
“Wait,” Hiroko said, as Neku worked on his third drink and Joshua filled in the end of their story. “But… Yoshi… Joshua. You brought Neku back to life.”
“Sure did.”
“That was the first time I died, Mom. There was a second.”
This time, Hiroko rubbed her temples, shaking her hair in a cascade of rusty orange. “Lovely. Maybe we can do that half over lunch.”
“And… and that’s that, really. Since Coco killed me, I’ve been working on focusing my powers. Mr. H. is still giving me a cloak of glamor twice a week just to be on the safe side, but I’ve kept the number of arms, toes, and eyeballs to a human level for the last two weeks unless I want to change it.”
“Have you tried doing it so you’ve got like hundreds of eyeballs just under your skin?” Joshua said conspiratorially.
“Ugh! Gross! Not while I’m eating!” Neku pushed his bowl of Ken Doi’s ramen away from him and blanched. That was his fault for eating too slowly, he guessed.
“Well, it is useful,” Joshua said with a shrug. “You can see everything at once. Uriel says it’s how she’s able to mess with time. I can’t ever get it right, not even in my home district.”
“You suck at changing your face too,” Neku smirked. “Both your roommates have you beat there.”
Hiroko again looked like she wanted to burst with questions; Neku merely shook his head, cutting her off at the pass.
“Joshua has two other Composers for roommates. Uriel, who you heard is the Composer of Shinjuku, and Gabriel, who helped us, but I didn’t mention for time reasons. She runs Chiyoda and is a massive nerd. I still haven’t met her Conductor, but I’ve heard he’s nice.”
“If you think she’s an otaku…”
“Oh God,” Neku cried, considering the implications. “Never mind. Anyway. I wanted to show you the rest of the city. You have those goggles, if you don’t mind, I can take you to the Shibuya River.”
“Excuse you, that’s my domain,” Joshua tutted. “I’m coming with.”
Neku stared upwards at the massive wall of Hanekoma’s art in the un-space below the trains, his father equally in awe.
“Wow,” Jiro hissed. “That’s. That’s something else.”
“Do I hear… violin?” Hiroko asked.
“Moooooom!”
“Sorry, Neku. Just…. What is this place?”
Joshua slowly ran his fingers over the paint, the mural rippling a little like the surface of a lake. “Every district has a place for Reapers to practice their art, whatever it is. Creativity is how our magic works. It’s what powers us. The most creative… they can become angels. I’ve always been one but it’s not out of the question for humans to elevate themselves. For those who take themselves out of the Game, there’s places for them to work on their art when they’re not on duty. And we instruct each other.”
“Neku this isn’t secretly where you-” Hiroko started, looking down the corridors in awe.
“Neku really is attending a regular art school,” Joshua said, arms pinwheeling as a flourish. “I tried to convince him to just come here during the day, but noooooooo, he wanted a ‘reeeeaaaal educaaaation’. He’s not really on scholarship, I’m paying his school fees. Consider it part of my payback for murder.”
“Joshua, that’s…”
“An investment,” he said, cutting off Hiroko. “He’s one of the best. I wasn’t going to let mortal problems like money, or some unsympathetic parents get in the way.” He frowned and turned his back on them. “Mr. H. lets Neku use his studio above the cafe, but there should be some Reaper-only-space like this in Hachioji, too.”
“It’s out in the middle of nowhere, in Tangi,” Neku groaned. “Over by some religious university. I could fly there, but it’s a forty-minute bus ride from the station and my wings ache just from one way. You don’t have to deal with a district that large.”
“Having a small, dense district has its issues too, especially one this expensive to live in. I still have to pay to house a few hundred Reapers, Neku. Just wait until you need to do taxes. Didn’t have to worry about this sort of thing a few centuries ago, but hey, modern problems, modern solutions.”
“You have to… pay to house them?” Jiro asked, as they walked through the busy halls, Reapers out of uniform in different rooms learning, making, dancing, cooking, or, in one exceptionally padded room, playing a tuba. Joshua popped his head in a kitchen, watching a mountain of a man show a tiny Reaper girl how to make phyllo.
“Higashizawa?” Neku blanched.
“He’s on some serious probation,” Joshua said as he smirked in the doorway, making sure the giant brute knew he was being watched before moving on. “I still can’t find Minamimoto or Koinishi though. Kitaniji’s soul has been reborn anew.”
“I thought he was… wait. Does that mean Erasure is reincarnation? Like the Buddhist kind?”
“Eh. Sorta. Memories are gone, soul goes back for more refining. It’s complicated. Higher ups will explain it better.”
“No, you’re going to, and now,” Neku said indignantly.
“I can’t. And don’t give me that look, Neku. I didn’t say I wouldn’t. I said I can’t. Like physically. It’s not something you can explain with any human language. Learn your angelic cants and you’ll be able to communicate it properly.”
“I- oh,” Neku muttered.
“If I tried to say it now, your ears would bleed, and your brain would fall out. Literally. You’d survive- Angel and all- but I’d be killing a lot of Reapers- and your parents- for no good reason.”
“Wait. You’re- you’re seriously not pulling my leg on that.”
Joshua brushed him off with a wave. “Ask Sanae, he’ll say the same thing. Now, come on, your own mural’s over this way, I’m sure your parents want to see that, right?”
“Lastly, here,” Joshua said, leading them into the Dead God’s Pad. “Sushi okay for everyone? Vanitas will bring it after his shift’s over. Beat, Rhyme, and Shiki are on their way, too. Uri’s still too busy, but Gabe said she’ll join us, her day’s Game is over. I have some paperwork to take care of. Feel free to raid the drinks. Neku, no ambrosia for your parents, but everything else is fair game.” Joshua snapped his fingers. “Just made it easier for you. Soft drinks in the fridge, alcohol’s been reorganized, and I put the dead-people-only stuff in my office.”
“You’re giving us some alone time?” Neku asked.
“I figured that was obvious. Others can’t come in without express permission, not even Gabe can enter without me opening the door to her.”
“Rhyme?”
“Touché, but she’ll call first. Just knock on my office when you want me.”
Joshua didn’t even bother with the formality of walking away, in one second, he was sitting on a plush couch, and the next, he was just gone. Neku and his parents were left in the spacious, bright bar with only the aquarium below them and the low hum of the bar fridges.
Neku exhaled. “So, I think you’re caught up on everything, I think. Now you can ask questions.”
“What happens if I take off these goggles?” Hiroko asked.
Neku laughed. It was the strangest first thing given how much she looked like she’d burst as he and Joshua explained the past few crazy months.
“You’d find yourself in the Shibuya station underground mall. And forget what you’d been doing for the past few minutes. Joshua was curious and had Beat try it. Should’ve seen his face. Anyway, this isn’t a real place. Well, it is real, it’s just not… tangible. Technically we’re energy in the filled-in former swamp and river that once made up Shibuya.”
“I’m not going to ask why you never told us,” Jiro said, watching the fish below him swim lazily through the glass. “I can understand why. Do you… want to quit school? Focus only on your art and your job?”
Neku shook his head. “I’m not even really doing much as Composer yet. I’ll start getting duties soon, but, even then, I have enough hours in the day. I only need an hour or two of sleep.”
“Don’t overwork yourself,” Jiro admonished, still not looking his son in the eye.
“Oh no! Angels just don’t really need sleep,” Neku said, hands up defensively. “I’m getting enough rest. I just don’t need much. Josh said I could even skip a few days entirely, if I followed that with sleeping a full evening.”
“Well,” Hiroko said, grabbing for Neku’s hand. “I think the first thing we need to do is get rid of your curfew then. If you only need to sleep an hour or two at night, I don’t see any reason to have you home by ten.”
“Just yesterday you were trying to ground me,” Neku said with a chuckle. “Is the patron deity of Hachioji still going to have rules?”
“Damn straight you are, young ma-god,” Hiroko insisted, back to her usual bluster and finger pointing. “I don’t care if you’re the Emperor of Japan, if you’re under my roof, there’s still rules.”
Neku laughed. “Okay, mom, what are they?”
“One, you’re to be home with us for dinner. If you can’t, I expect a text. If I don’t get a text by six I’m going to go to Mr. Hanekoma’s café or wherever in Tangi Hachioji’s equivalent of this place is and shout the Reapers down until I get a damn good answer why you didn’t follow up.”
Hiroko jabbed a finger to Neku’s chest. “Next. If you’re insisting on staying in school, you’re not letting your grades slip. And no cheating. That means no reading people’s minds on written tests. If you want to use your powers to make your art, that’s one thing, but there will be no theft under my roof, physical or intellectual.”
“Okay, okay!”
“And no shirking your Conduction-“
“Composer.”
“-Composer job either. If you can’t handle both, you sit down with me and Mr. Hanekoma or Joshua or another angel who knows what they’re doing more than you and we figure out how you balance all that.”
“Remember son, the point of being a manager is knowing when to delegate.”
“Oh god, are you two going to help run Hachioji?” Neku asked, mortified.
“I’m not just going to shove myself into this world,” Hiroko continued, on her steamroll, “but if you can’t handle it yourself, we are family. I will help.”
“Trust me, Neku, now that you’re in high school and out of the house, your mother’s been going stir crazy.”
Neku held his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing,” he muttered. But he’d be lying if he weren’t also oddly happy about his mother using her abrasive personality for something constructive.
“Sounds like someone needs to help balance a real-world budget,” she said. “It might be two decades out of date, but my degree was in accounting. I only quit when we had you.”
“It would be nice to be painting again,” Jiro added. “I’m not sure how much help that would be…”
Neku surged forward, closing the distance between them. He pulled his parents into a bear hug, gently blanketing them all with his wings before realizing he’d burn them.
But he didn’t. Instead, he realized all three were sobbing. He wasn’t sure he knew where he ended and his mother or father began. His emotions, relief, sadness, worry, they all washed over each other like a warm, wet, heavy blanket.
Slowly, he lifted them, and let go. “S-Sorry. My power is in my wings and-“
“You shared that with us,” Jiro said, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he smiled softly and genuinely.
“We’re the Sakurabas. By blood or by choice,” Hiroko added. “I can’t forget that. I’m sorry I failed you, Neku. I’m so proud of what you became and who you’ll keep growing to be.”
Neku held each of their hands in one of his own, happy in the comfortable silence.
It was broken by his stomach growling loudly.
“Maybe I should go find Joshua,” Neku admitted.
His parents laughed. “Looks like our little god needs an offering,” Jiro said, to Neku’s surprise. He couldn’t remember a time when his father had ever joked.
“Oh, shove it. I need to sleep less, but I have to eat way more now. Thank Someone Mr. H has a café because I’d probably eat you two dry.”
Joshua was not working on paperwork.
Joshua was, in fact, talking with the Higher Ups. Emphasis on “higher”.
Neku entered his office to find everything completely devoid of color, nothing but monochromatic concrete. Even he and his own clothing drained as they entered, and every hair and feather stood on end. The only thing not in shades of grey was the swirling golden graffiti curled up on a cushion on top of Joshua’s normally (almost explosively) garish graffiti-soaked desk (Hanekoma’s work, for sure).
“Josh?” Neku attempted to ask, but no sound escaped his lips.
He realized he wasn’t breathing or his heart beating, either. It was an inconvenience, but still woefully uncomfortable. This wasn’t Neku’s domain. He could be hurt here.
Neku put a hand on the golden graffiti dragon…
… and was immediately blasted into the far wall.
Neku shook the daze out, noticing the room return to its normal color, the distant hum of the ice machine for the bar returned to the space. He didn’t even realize he’d missed it until it returned.
The dragon yawned, acid-white teeth on full display.
Thanks, sometimes I really lose track of time, going Upstairs, Joshua explained wordlessly. It felt like an auditory hug, soft but firm.
“I’m going to have to learn that too,” Neku sighed.
You are an Angel. This is what we truly look like, at least on this layer of perception. Hang on just a… moment,” Joshua said, as he turned back into something more human presenting mid-sentence.
“Your eyes are different sizes,” Neku noted.
“I hate shape-shifting,” Joshua admitted, pulling his phone out to look in the front facing camera and fix his face. “Get Gabe to teach you. Or Sanae. Even us natural angels aren’t perfect at all this.”
Neku’s stomach protested again.
“Sounds like you came in for a handout.”
“When you put it like that-“
“You know, I love seeing your face when you think I’m being serious. It’s adorable. Come on, I already ordered before I did my reality warping. Vanitas is probably here already.”
“You’re from… another world?” Jiro asked.
“Dad, after what you’ve seen today, this surprises you? Flood, quit it. Sit and I’ll give you a piece.”
“No, no sushi, it ate something it shouldn’t have,” Vanitas chided, pointing with his chopsticks. “No food till it gets it out of its system.”
“What could possibly-” Gabriel asked, reaching over Vanitas to swipe a kappa maki piece as Flood burped a localized earthquake.
“He got into the pin case. Again. Princess is going to keep them in a lockbox from now on. I’m only glad they didn’t come from my pay.”
“Ouch,” Neku commiserated. “How’s that thing going?”
“Sewing lessons?” Vanitas asked. “Pretty good. Princess is going to let me start doing some basic alterations in the shop. It’s weird. As I’m getting better, I can do some basic magic. Not my stuff from my old world but… I was walking around by the scramble crossing and I started reading peoples’ minds. It’s a bit too noisy for me though.”
Gabriel grinned. “We’ve been doing a stitch and bitch with some of the Shinjuku reapers staying with us. Pop by one night if you can.”
“I can’t fly that far yet, and the train’s too long,” Neku admitted. “Once I’m done for the day here, I’m going home and not coming back out.”
“I can fly to Hachioji sometimes, get out of the city proper,” she reassured. “Wait till you can fly at mach speeds though. Nothing beats the wind rushing through you.”
“You don’t mean ‘the wind in your hair’ do you?” Vanitas asked warily.
“Nu-uh,” Joshua said, stretching out, stealing a crab stick nigiri from Gabriel. “But if you want to see some green that’s not Meiji Shrine, I’ll give you a hall pass. If you’ve been good.”
“Piss off, Josh,” Vanitas said with a grin. “Or I’ll sic Princess on you.”
“Oh no, I’ll have to suffer through teatime and makeovers. The horror.”
“To clarify, I’ll sic Mama Kaede on you.”
All color drained from Joshua’s face as he squeaked out a “please don’t”, before shoving a soft-shell crab in his mouth to not have to communicate to anyone.
“Mama Kaede?” Hiroko asked. “She must be something else if she can shut up this chatterbox.”
Vanitas grinned. “One of the Reapers. A sweet woman who looks like she’s in her early twenties. Was a mother herself and died about thirty years ago. Adopts all the strays.” Vanitas pet Flood with a free hand at that, as the little beast chittered away. “I’m a Reaper but I can’t fight the way they can. My magic- or whatever you want to call it- works differently. So, I work in her shop and help the Players with their equipment.”
“Is this one of the Noise Neku was telling us about?”
“Eh, sort of. Except they come just from me specifically. I’ve always been able to do this, even when I was alive. Magic isn’t something humans on this world have, but where I’m from, it’s not uncommon.” He flicked his fingers, and a narrow, light bludgeon in the shape of a key materialized in it. “Doesn’t mean I can’t fight. But I can’t fight fair. At least, not by this world’s rules.”
“Is there… is there any danger to this? Do you have… enemies?”
“Mrs. Sakuraba, this isn’t a comic. First off, technically speaking, we’re the bad guys,” Gabriel explained, as she reached for her bottle of CC Lemon, popping the cap and letting it hiss. “Or rather, antagonists. It’s not that we don’t want to give people a second chance at life, but we aren’t truly gods who can just do anything. There’s still our own internal laws of physics we’re bound to, even if they’re not what you’re familiar with. And occasionally, there will be problems.”
“I think Coco was more than just ‘a problem’,” Shiki pointed out, rubbing the bridge of her nose without dislodging her own goggles. “Or what Joshua was originally going to do to Shibuya.”
“On the cosmic scale though?” Gabriel asked. Shiki frowned as the angel continued. “Point stands. At least now they’re less frequent, and we have a network of good, powerful people to help. At the very worst, we have a few godlike creatures of our own on speed-dial,” Gabriel added, reaching over to fluff the velvet fur on Flood’s head. “I wouldn’t say you have nothing to worry about- I mean anyone can just get a heart attack tomorrow- but Neku’s not in any more danger than any random mortal is.”
“I’m still going to worry.”
“Course you are,” Gabriel insisted. “You’re a mon. It’s how I feel about all my own Reapers. They’re my kids. Speaking of. Neku. Your wings. When’d you preen last?”
“I’unno,” Neku said, suddenly self-conscious. “Mr. H did them last week? I think? I still can’t reach back there.”
“Twice a week, Neku,” Gabriel chided.
“I mean, I shower every day! And they don’t stink!”
“Uh-uh. Not the same thing. You don’t use bar soap to wash your hair, right? You use shampoo. So, you don’t use soap to wash your wings. Well, you can actually use dish soap for them if you actually get them like dirty-dirty, but your feathers’ll go all brittle. You need to slick them with oil. Open up.”
Neku pulled his wings around him, tighter.
“Not getting out of this one. You don’t, and I’ll tickle you.”
“Fine.” Neku slowly opened his wingspan.
Joshua nodded at the sofa Neku was sitting on, and the back flattened out into a chaise. “Sit up straight in the middle and fluff them out a little.”
“How do I?”
“Neku, your fly is down.”
“What- hey!” Neku shrieked, as his feathers puffed up in indignation. “You tricked me!”
“It’s no different than scaring someone to get rid of hiccups. Now sit still and try to relax. Everyone else, come here. Might as well show you all now.”
Neku sighed, as Shiki, Beat, Rhyme, and his parents circled around to watch Joshua and Gabriel manhandle his wings. Only Vanitas remained sitting, poking at the last of the kappa maki with one hand and absentmindedly petting Flood with the other.
“Now I know how you feel,” Neku commiserated.
“What, being cooed over and pet?” Vanitas asked with a smirk as he gave the little creature chin scratches.
Neku let himself drift a little. He’d already gotten the basics down from Mr. H: keep them clean, they attract Noise. Try to keep your emotions in check if someone else is allopreening because they’ll get hit with them too. Roll each shoulder in opposing directions to start expressing wing oil (gross). Always remember to keep your wings up for a few minutes after being done so the oil can set. Et cet-er-a.
“What, hey!” Neku whined as Gabriel pulled at something on his right wing.
“Were you listening?”
“I was trying to space out so you all don’t get hit with emotions.”
Gabriel nodded. “So, Sanae did walk you through the basics.”
“Yeah. And ow. That hurt.”
“Maybe not all of them. You know what I just pulled on?”
“My wing.”
“Specifically.”
“No.”
“Your thumb. Or, your wing’s thumb. It’s called an alula.” Neku wiggled it, surprised as Gabriel prodded the top arch of the limb. “Your wrist is here. The whole long bone on the outer edge of your wing is actually just a big ol’ pointer finger.”
“That’s not an elbow? Hey, ow.”
“Look up avian anatomy sometime, birdbrain. Now go back to what you were doing, you have a Noise in your feathers.”
“I what,” Neku panicked, as Flood was deposited in his lap. “Thanks, Vanitas.” Absentmindedly, he gave the beast scratches until it flopped over sideways, ignoring the too-many hands in his wings.
Neku sat at his desk at home, sketching in charcoal.
“You going to bed anytime soon?”
“It’s only midnight. I’ll probably go to bed around 4,” he answered. His father looked on awkwardly from the doorway.
“Son, if you need any-”
“Thanks dad, but no. You need sleep.”
“Are you waiting for your mother and I to go to bed so you can sneak out?”
“Is it sneaking out if you’ve given me permission?” Neku leaned back, giving his dad a cocky grin. “I just want to go for a fly. I didn’t realize how bad my wings had gotten and it feels a million times better.”
“We can help.”
Neku gulped. “It’s really awkward asking your parents to help bathe you.”
“Can you do it yourself?”
Neku’s face fell a little. “Not really. Mr. H helps when he notices, but I feel even more awkward asking him.” Neku sighed, hugging his knees to his chest. “But I can’t push you guys away. I’ll let you know. Just… be careful, okay? If I’m in a bad mood, touching my wings will really hurt you.”
“Well, call over your Shibuya friends, then,” Jiro said with a small smile. “I’m sure they’d help.”
Neku nodded absently. “I can always stop at Joshua’s after school. Gabriel’s district seems to run well so she has a lot of free time. Uriel and Joshua are still busy dealing with the fallout from Coco, I’m surprised he took time out to see us. I didn’t even tell him we were coming, but, well, Shibuya’s his. I’ve started noticing stuff like that here, too. I’m like 90% sure Mr. Yayozawa is having an affair. Any big emotional spikes like that in Hachioji… I can feel it.”
Jiro nodded quietly. “Are you… is it your job to do something about those sorts of things?”
“Sort of. People who have severe emotional discord create Noise. The graffiti looking stuff. If it gets too big and loud, well… it can hurt people. I was going to go survey and let Mr. H know if there’s any hotspots. He can’t fly right now.”
“That must bother him.”
“Yeah. I was thinking about asking Gabriel about her tandem harness.”
“Her what?”
“She said in Chiyoda new Reapers practice flying by being harnessed to someone with experience. Like tandem harnesses for skydiving. I was going to ask her for a spare and see if Mr. H. wanted a flight. He can interpret the Noise better than me, so he gets up in the air, and I get some training out of it. I’m not sure I’m good enough on my own wings to carry someone else though. He’s dead weight.”
“I’m sure when you’re ready, he’d appreciate it. He must hate being grounded.”
Neku nodded and rolled his shoulders. “I promise I’ll be in by 3. And, hey, when I’m good enough, maybe I can take you or Mom up. Hachioji’s something else from the air.”
“Sakuraba?”
Neku nervously adjusted his school polo. “Miss Hashida?”
“This is one of the most interesting ways I’ve ever seen this assignment taken,” she said. “I wasn’t sure whether to give you full marks or fail you.”
Neku’s eyes fell. “Oh.”
“I mean, by your admission, you didn’t paint this. Your friend did.”
“Y-yeah.”
“Next time you do a performance piece, you need to tape it as part of the record, Neku. I’m giving you full marks for originality, but next time include the process, not just the finished piece.”
“Okay, so what were you going for, exactly?”
“What do you mean?” Eri asked, tugging and touching as she adjusted the clothing on him. Neku still wasn’t used to the fact that that person wasn’t Shiki, even though he’d spent more time with his former Game partner in her real form than the stolen one he was currently being manhandled by for their fashion assignment. It was also weird being at school with both of them, but that was its own can of worms. They weren’t on the same art track as he was anyway, so he only saw them at lunch and between or after classes.
Neku swallowed, trying to keep himself still. “Well, I didn’t know if you ever wanted… I don’t know… someone with a different body type to model.”
“Ohhhh,” Shiki said in realization as she pinned a hem down. “Shapeshifting practice.”
“Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”
“Stop shrugging,” Eri chided, leaning into a hip as she looked over their work. “Shiki, we need three centimeters in at the shoulder. Neku, you somehow lost even more weight. Eat more or you’ll stop existing. Wait. Do dead people actually need to eat? I’m still not used to this.”
“Yes,” Neku admitted. “I’m technically made of energy. I must be using more than I’m putting back in.”
“Well, stop that,” Eri insisted, swatting him with a plastic French curve. “But yeah, I could use some inspo. If you can shape-shift, let’s see… I dunno. Surprise me. But not while you’re in our work in progress, this is due in a week. We’ll do our next piece from whatever you want to do.”
“What if it’s an old man?” Shiki asked, sneaking a little half hug as she took the shirt off Neku, careful to make sure he wasn’t stuck with pins.
Eri shrugged. “Old men need clothes too.”
“Have I lost weight?”
Mr. H looked up from his paper, sitting half on a still behind the counter. The only current customers were two human businessmen minding their own, and a pair of off-duty Reapers constantly looking at Neku’s wings whenever they thought the Angel wasn’t looking.
“Think so,” Hanekoma replied, looking him over. “Also, you know you can put your wings on the Angel’s plane, right? Only other Angels can see them then, and it’ll take a load off your back. You’re hunching.”
“I what? Is that what you’re doing?”
“When a Player can get in the shop, yeah,” Hanekoma replied, in a sing-song Neku recognized as Angel cant.
“Ow, that still hurts my ears,” Neku whined. “Do that when I don’t have a foot in the RG, please.”
“Sorry, boss. Hang on, your ears are bleeding. Re-tune your vibe.”
Neku sighed and put himself solidly on the UG, rubbing at his ears until he healed. When he turned back to Hanekoma, a steaming cup of coffee awaited him.
“Let me know if you need anything else, Neku.”
“What do you charge for sanity?”
“Sorry, even you can’t afford that.”
“Then put whatever those Reapers want on my tab.”
“Again, sorry. I should have noticed you weren’t totally in the UG before talking Angel.”
“Don’t worry about it, your powers aren’t working right either.” Neku sighed, peering behind Hanekoma. The barista had folded his wings behind him, all wrinkly black skin like a burned-raw chicken wing. Without the giant flight feathers, they looked haphazard and awkward. “Um, I don’t know if this is out of line, but that looks painful. I can take care of your wings later.”
“Josh’s been too busy to come out here,” Hanekoma admitted.
“Josh isn’t your boss anymore, I am. And I’m supposed to be taking care of this city,” Neku insisted. “And… well. I need more practice with my own magic.”
Hanekoma just nodded. “Was waiting for you to admit that.”
“Is this what it looks like for everyone under the feathers?” Neku asked, staring down at the awkwardly bent appendage in front of him.
“Mhm. Check your own out when you molt.”
“Do they hurt?”
“Not physically. Emotionally, yeah,” Hanekoma admitted. “Feels like there’s a hole there.”
“Yeah, I’m not feeling any emotions like I did when I touched Joshua’s. Wait. This a zit?” Neku touched a welt and he and Hanekoma collectively jumped.
“Feather!” Neku said, once the shared emotion passed. “First one’s growing back in.”
Hanekoma hissed a little in pain, as Neku ghosted his fingers over the welt. “Think it’s stuck. I’m going to use a little more pressure.”
Hanekoma balled his fingers into fists as Neku pressed the sides of the protrusion like he was pooping a zit. After a tense moment, the tip of a white feather broke through skin.
Neku let go, panting though the second-hand pain. Slowly, Hanekoma flapped the wing, then reached out and ran his fingers over the fuzz. “Thanks, boss. Now, are you ready to be a proper angel, or what?”
Neku sighed. “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t force me to start doing all the weird stuff.”
“I was in your shoes a couple centuries ago. And I didn’t have all the modern-day baggage. Figured you’d come round to taking this seriously when you were ready. Hell, I was expecting a few years of you dicking around, not a month.”
“How old are you, anyway?”
Hanekoma stretched out, looking sappily at his new feather. “Hm. Over six hundred. Stopped counting. Now, chin up and let’s get you moving between dimensional planes.”
Neku dropped his school bag and looked at the low table set up in the living room, three cushions set up around it.
“Is it cold enough to use the kotatsu?” he asked her, eyeing the thermostat.
“Would you rather sit in the kitchen?” his mother asked, gesturing to the Western style table and chairs. “I thought you might want to rest your back after sitting at a desk all day.”
“I only have desk classes half the day,” Neku replied. “We’re in studio the rest, and I can stand or use a stool. But yeah, I’d rather sit on the floor. Thanks.”
Hiroko nodded. “Your father’s almost home. Help me set the table and then you can stretch out. Did your teachers give you trouble for missing yesterday?”
“Ifune chewed me out but I used my water magic to make my nose run for five minutes straight.”
Hiroko sighed. “Just don’t make a habit of- Neku, your uniform.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s draping on you. Like you lost a lot of weight.”
“I stopped by Mr. H’s to practice magic. Eri noticed it too.”
“Don’t go withering away completely,” Hiroko chided. “Do you need to see someone?”
“Is it that bad?”
Hiroko grabbed Neku by the shoulders and marched him to the bathroom mirror. “You tell me, young man.”
Neku looked at himself. He didn’t look right, gaunt, eyes sunken. He didn’t feel like a walking corpse, but certainly looked like one.
“I’ll.. I’ll call Gabe.”
“Neku. Sit. Still. You’re running on fumes.”
“I’m what?”
“You’re powered by your Imagination. You’ve been doing a ton of magic and not filling up. What did you do?”
“I dunno, I did a little dimension hopping today. Just practiced going up and down between the UG, RG, and angel planes.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t do it. Not alone. I’ll give you some inspiration, hang on.”
“Give inspiration?” Neku pulled his knees to his chest. “Wait… you mean giving people inspiration passes power?”
“Duh. We’re technically muses.”
“Oh.”
“You inspired someone today, didn’t you? And harder than you should have.”
“I think so. I’m modeling for a classmate in the fashion track.”
“No, this is way more than just giving a human or two some divine insight. You either inspired like… a whole city… or another angel. Which you really shouldn’t be doing yet.”
“I… oh. Mr H. I helped him express his first feather.”
Gabriel banged her head on the kotatsu. “Of course you did. You’re probably feeding him and not even realizing it. No wonder he’s recovering from being plucked so fast. Just hold still, I’m going to give you some of my own Imagination. If you start crocheting, don’t complain. No buts. I have plenty to spare.” Gently, she placed her hands on his shoulders.
Neku perked up almost immediately. “Better?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Lots. Does that mean I shouldn’t… be near him?”
“Fuck no, just top off from one of us if you need to. You have my cell. I’m going to have a word or ten with your Producer before I fly home. They should be doing a better job of this.”
Gabriel cracked her neck, nodded, and moved to stand up.
“At least join us for dinner,” Hiroko insisted, watching nervously over the whole thing, happy to see some color and Neku’s face filled out a bit more.
Gabriel sighed and plopped back down. “Sure. But I’m borrowing Neku for the rest of the night.”
“Homework done?” Jiro asked. Neku nodded.
“Just lock up when you get in, then.”
Gabriel had Neku wait outside the precinct as she stormed in. Curious, he let himself shift over to the angel planes, his infinite eyes visible on his body and wings as he did so. Neku was starting to get used to it; he knew people adapted quickly, but still.
He listened as Gabriel seemed to rail into Haniel in Angel. He didn’t understand half of it, but the sentiment was crystal clear.
Don’t just passively observe. Your Conductor needs you. They (Neku assumes whoever was capital-a Above all of them) needed to get their sticks out of their asses and you should too.
I’m the will of the Composer and the arbiter between Here and Beyond, Haniel replied. I don’t care how you and your Producer operate in Chiyoda. That’s not the arrangement I have with mine.
Neku walked through the station, literally so; walls did nothing to him in that state.
Shakily, Neku spoke up. Well if your job is to oversee and facilitate my work, then I’m ordering you to help… to help… uh. I don’t know his name in Angel.
Haniel and Gabriel stared at Neku. Told you he picks stuff up quick, Gabriel insisted. Ha-ne-ko-ma. Feathered shrine dog. Now, she added, addressing the shocked faux police officer. Are you going to disobey a direct order from your own master? I’d hope not.
Neku fluffed up his wings, eyes focused all on Haniel. Can we take this to the UG at least? I suck at cant.
Haniel and Gabriel sighed, and Neku followed them to the Underground, eyes back to just the pair on his face.
“Is that what you really wish for me?” Haniel asked.
“I mean… I’m still new. Things will change,” Neku admitted. “But right now? Hanekoma needs help and I can’t do it alone. And you? I know you want me picking up some of your duties you picked up when you lost your Composer. But you have to teach me. I’m not an angel by birth like you are. I don’t just… know what to do.”
Haniel looked curious. “You… don’t?”
Neku sighed. “You’ve never interacted with an angel that came up from humanity, did you?”
Haniel shook no. “Well, Sanae, I suppose.”
“He doesn’t count. He’s been doing this centuries. Either way, you can’t just hide from me. Do the Reapers know who you are or are you hidden from them?”
“They know I can see them. They think I’m an ESPer.”
“Do you go to the un-space at all?”
“Un-space?”
“The art place in Tangi.”
Haniel nodded. “They call it Valhalla. I teach sculpture there. But there’s a few living humans in the area aware of the UG. They teach there too.”
“So, you just hide among them. At the all-hands meeting you’re going to introduce yourself to the Reapers, proper. You and me both.”
Haniel frowned. “You’re the only one who is supposed to know of my existence, Composer. The only reason the Conductor knows of me is-“
“You had a hole, so you were filling Zeke’s job, yes. What happened to my predecessor?”
“Ezekiel erased his Composer,” Haniel replied flatly.
“I… gathered that much,” Neku replied. “Some Reapers told me two days ago the Conductor had been… incinerated. Why didn’t you stop him?”
“I agreed with the assessment. That’s what led to his promotion.”
“His… oh. He moved upwards.” Neku bit his lip. Haniel wasn’t anything like Hanekoma when Hanekoma had been Producer. Mr. H had been friendly, had a job where, even though the Shibuya Reapers didn’t know he was the boss’s boss, had a space to relax. Though if Haniel was teaching the Reapers art, even without letting them know she was the same as he’d been, she wasn’t completely detached from the world of Men. She was just… different.
“Do you not want to reveal yourself because you want to follow some code, or because you don’t want to change your position with the Reapers?” Neku asked.
“The latter.”
Haniel really was like Neku’s dad. Boring, to the point. He wondered what kind of art she made.
“Then… then you don’t have to. But I’ll introduce myself. There is one thing I’d like your help with, though, if you don’t mind?”
She relaxed, looking visibly relieved. “You’re not ordering me to reveal myself to the Reapers?”
“It bothers you that much, so no,” Neku said with a shrug. “I might change stuff about the UG, but I’m never going to press somebody to do something like that. It clearly isn’t something you want to do. If you do change your mind, though… I’ll be behind you all the way.”
Haniel bowed deeply. “Then let me hear this other request, Mr. Sakuraba.”
Neku looked sideways at a Gabriel trying to stifle a laugh. “Neku. Please. And uh… it’s something like this.”