Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It felt silly to say, but in all of the last three years, Neku had never thought this far ahead.

Well. Maybe that wasn’t strictly true. Those first few weeks in the UG, he’d lacked either his memories, or else the luxury of considering the practicalities that came with returning to the RG. None of the Reapers had ever felt particularly inclined to inform him what would happen either: as it was, he’d presumed his folks simply thought he was missing.

But after being shot yet again and left to wander the streets of the destroyed city of Shinjuku, he’d entertained the idea at least a little. Huddling over the small fire he’d created, taking shelter behind an abandoned car, he’d watched the flames lick the newspapers and wondered what kind of false memory Joshua had planted in the minds of the people who had known him back in the RG. Did his parents think he’d died in another accident? Would Joshua have liked to spice it up a little this time, concoct some zany tale of how he’d run away from home, started his own band, headed to the big city in pursuit of an even bigger dream?

His breath caught when he stopped to consider that maybe Joshua hadn’t even bothered to rewrite their memories at all. Perhaps he’d stripped Neku’s existence away from the RG altogether. It would be easier that way, no doubt: less of a paper trail to clean up afterwards and no one to come looking for him.

(Why? Why would Joshua do that? Why would he return Neku to life, only to allow him to be cast into this city devoid of any life but the whispering souls left behind?

Not that there was ever much point questioning why Joshua did anything.

But he did it all the same.)

Yet as the days became weeks, and the weeks turned to months, such pontificating became pointless in the face of staying alive. There were more important things to think about — finding food, shelter, destroying the Noise that still plagued Shinjuku’s ruins, and most importantly, working with his murderer to find out whatever happened to her city.

If his thoughts turned to what life back in the RG would be like, then truthfully, they mostly tended to be wry musings over what Beat, or Shiki, would think if they saw him now. Even in the darkest moments, he would not be able to keep a smile from tugging his lips when he pictured Beat’s reaction to seeing him team up with Coco, or ‘Pixie Chick’ as his hot-headed best friend had dubbed her. Shiki would be taken aback in her own right, but more willing to hear out what Coco had to say, and why Neku trusted her. Beat, well… Beat always believed a flurry of fists said more than words ever could.

And so it was, that when he was eventually reunited with his parents, he was struck by the fact that he hadn’t really even thought about them that much at all.

Joshua had bothered to file whatever paperwork was involved with overwriting the memories of the people who knew him, and imprinting an entirely new cover story for the three years he’d been missing from the RG. Allegedly, Neku’s ‘accident’ had him ‘re-evaluating his priorities in life’, the ‘limitations of just one city’, and that he’d moved to Yokohama for his education.

“I’d advise brushing up on your knowledge of the city of Yokahama, Neku,” Joshua had so kindly advised him in the letter he had woken up beside in the RG. ”I hear the ports are just marvelous.”

Not that his parents had questioned him that much about it. Why would they? Their heads were stuffed full of false recollections of Neku’s monthly visits home, his stories of school, friends, the city he’d spent the latter half of his adolescent years, before deciding it was time to go home to Shibuya.

(He could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen, as he rose, dazed, from his bed. The scent wafting into his room of cooking fish, the warmth of steamed rice. It had taken him more than a minute to realise where he even was, instinctively closing his eyes to shut out the sensations and focus. All his muscles were tensed, already prepared for danger after mere seconds of blinking awake. Such had been life for the past three years: olfactory hallucinations were like child’s play for a Reaper.

But nothing. No thoughts, no voices, the only sound the muted chatter coming from the kitchen, and the thumping of his own heart in his chest.

He had barely had time to orient himself, take in the strangely unfamiliar surroundings of his old bedroom, discover Joshua’s note, before his mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen, like a long-forgotten song.

“Neku! Breakfast! Get on out of bed, sweetie, it’s your favourite!”

His favourite...breakfast? He had a favourite home-cooked breakfast? It had only since he’d reunited with Beat and his kids, that he’d even gotten to enjoy a meal that wasn’t smuggled out of the ruins of something, or cooked within an inch of its life over the flimsy flame drawn from a psyche. Coco conveniently forgot humans actually needed things like food.

He’d walked as if in a trance down the stairs he’d once known by heart, trying not to trip over his own feet. Followed the sound of his mom’s voice all the way to the kitchen, finding her there by the stove, smiling and greeting him as he walked in. His dad sipped his coffee from behind his newspaper, and gave a familiar, kindly half-wave, half-pointing gesture that meant he was in the middle of reading something good. Their mouths moved, but Neku was having a hard time understanding what they were saying.

Something something about how had he enjoyed the movie the night before. What were his plans today. Was he going to look over the brochures from Aoyama Gakuin University today, and would he let them know when he wanted to, because they’d like to help him with the application process. Then he was being handed a plateful of food and scooted over to the table, to sit down and continue this conversation that he couldn’t even follow.

To them, it had been no time at all. To him, they were strangers. He was a stranger. The Neku Sakuraba that had left this house back then, to cross the city all the way to the back streets of Udagawa, was not the same person as the one sitting at the table across from them right now.

It felt like he should care more. It felt like it should hurt, like he should scream, like he should cry, but instead he just felt...nothing. Not the bad kind of nothing, just a complete and lack of utter expectation that things would have been otherwise.

He realises, as his mom pours him a cup of coffee, that he’d lost all the fear he’d been carrying over from Shinjuku, almost a week ago in that back-alley where he’d died twice before.

Neku had been barely able to suppress the panic that it might be too late, when he’d finally managed to warp into Shibuya’s UG, but he had not been able to fully allow the relief to wash over him just yet, when he turned and saw Beat staring up at him like he was some kind of Fallen Angel. Perhaps he thought he was. Beat’s face had been drained of all colour, pupils blown black, that achingly familiar, earnest expression of his, for once, unreadable, and for a split, terrifying second, Neku was scared that all his worst fears had come true.

That Joshua had wiped his friends’ memories of him, along with those of everyone else in the RG.

That Beat no longer knew him.

But then relief came pouring across his features like a flood, cheeks reddening, face splitting into the same, dazzling smile that Neku had hoped to see again. The smile he’d missed, held onto, made an anchor in a space and time where there was no longer any place for smiling.

When Beat’s fingers had closed around his, that is the moment that Neku thinks of as coming home.)

The kids had organised the group to reunite at one of the new-to-Neku dessert stores that had sprung up like mushrooms after rain all around Shibuya the last few years. He would have personally preferred trying out that new curry place The Don had opened up, but he’s happy enough to just go along with the group’s plans. He hasn’t had the chance to see any of them since that first day back on the RG, so the promise of their company is more than enough sway.

He catches himself as he fixes his coat in the mirror, and meets his own cerulean-blue gaze in the reflection. Was that true? Had he really not had the chance to arrange seeing other people, or was it that he had forgotten that was a thing he could even do?

Neku’s fingers find one of the buttons of his coat, and gives it a tug. A habit he’d picked up, ever since the first Game. He’d been repairing all his own clothing ever since; no doubt Shiki would be appalled by the quality of his needlework, but he hadn’t been able to bear the sight of a loose thread ever since that first time she’d taken her needle to his threads.

Shiki… Eri was going to be there. Beat and he had not had much time to catch up as much as Neku would have liked to, after making it back to him, but Shiki’s success had come up more than once in passing conversation. Beat had confided that Eri ‘knew everything’, but the finer details of ‘everything’ still eluded him — hell, he still wasn’t sure how much Shiki knew. Was he really that much more enlightened? Did it matter?

“No, Neku,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from the mirror and pulling his coat around him. “It really, really does not.”

It’s only as he goes to open the front door to his parents’ home, that he realises he actually has no idea where the café that they’re supposed to be meeting at — Cutie Pies — is.

“Shit,” he grumbles to himself, raking his fingers through his thick ginger hair as he tries to Google the location, at the same time as locking the door.

“Yo! Phones!”

Neku startles, his cell slipping from his fingers as his hand instinctively curls into a fist, reaching for that place inside him that he draws power from before remembering —

There’s only one person in the RG that calls me that.

Before he can even re-correct himself to grab for the phone, someone snatches it half a second before it hits the pavement.

“Shit — sorry, man! Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that!”

A hand finds his shoulder, steadying them both. Neku blinks, lifting his gaze to find a very flushed-face Beat grinning back at him, wearing an expression that was equal parts pleased, and for some reason...nervous?

“Don’t worry about it,” Neku reassures him. He can’t help but smile at the sight of his friend, even though he wasn’t entirely sure why he was here.

Some of the tension Beat had been carrying seems to melt away, and he releases his grip on Neku’s shoulder, still looking oddly bashful. For his own part, Neku is startled by how bare his skin feels after Beat lets go of him.

“Still, sorry, man. Meant to — ahhh, forget about it. Here’s ya phone.”

Beat slips his cell back between Neku’s fingers, before jamming his hands into the side pockets of his hoodie.

“I jus’ figured — well. Whole city is still kinda new to you, yeah? Loadsa’ stuff has changed, ‘n you ain’t exactly had time to hunker down and settle in — thought maybe you’d need like, y’know...a guide or some shit.”

Beat is most definitely blushing now, and shit, there it is: one of the many things he’d missed about him, that surprisingly sensitive soul buried beneath all the bravado.

Neku grins, slipping his cell into his jacket pocket before folding his arms over his chest.

“As a matter of fact… Yeah, fair callout. Didn’t know where this place was — hence the phone.” He cocks his head, pursing his lips to try and keep himself from bursting into laughter. “You really the best person to play guide, though? I might have gotten the chance to see Shibuya better if you hadn’t been rushing ahead the whole time, insisting to the kids that they had to keep up with you…”

Beat snorts derisively, shaking the mop of blonde hair out of his face and lifting his chin in challenge.

“Hey, I thought a goddamn Legend woulda been able to keep up with his former partner, huh? Can’t be shatterin’ the dreams of the kiddy-o’s, yo.”

Neku meets his gaze, blue finding blue, and for the barest of moments, it’s like no time has passed at all.

(Standing side-by-side in the tunnel beneath Miyashita Park, Beat struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him as they gaze down at the trodden bouquet, the candle that looks like it never burned that long. Beat is cursing to himself, muttered hisses about how she deserved better, that Rhyme didn’t even like lilies, all these people passing by but none of them even had the decency to fix their overturned portrait.

Neku wants to tell him that Rhyme has enough people thinking about her, both in the land of the living and the dead. He wants to tell him that maybe Beat should be considering how much better he deserves. Because he deserves so much. If the Reapers are truly weighing the worth of their souls, then they’re fools to have not already ascended the guy standing beside him. No one, no one, has ever fought as bravely or with as much determination for someone else as Beat has.

Neku wants to tell him this. But he’s not sure Beat would want to hear it. Not right now, anyway.

Instead, he lifts his hand, hovers it hesitantly over Beat’s arm, before wrapping his fingers around his bicep. Beat jerks up, his mouth already moving to form some kind of excuse for his dawdling during a mission — but is cut off by Neku using his surprise to pull him against his chest in an embrace.

Neku presses his cheek against Beat’s chest, holding on tight. He doesn’t remember the last time he held someone like this. He’s not sure he ever has. He squeezes his eyes shut, buries his head closer against him, wishing that for all his goddamn talent with Psyches, that Beat can feel what he wishes he could say, through touch alone.

Beat is rigid against him, his breath caught, just long enough that Neku wonders if maybe he’s made a huge mistake — before his broad arms encircle Neku’s shoulders, drawing him as close as he possibly can. Neku’s face finds the space between Beat’s shoulder and jaw, whilst Beat’s chin rests on top of his head, unable to fight off the tears any longer. He holds onto Neku like he’s drowning, like he’s the only life-raft to be found amidst miles and miles of sea.

Which, in a way, he is.

Neku pulls him closer, tighter, still, and Beat welcomes it, desperately, his warm tears falling from his cheeks and onto Neku’s skin.

Just a few moments of peace in one another’s arms. Then they can face the world.)

“...Phones? Ya good?”

Shit. Now it’s Neku ducking his head, rubbing his upper arms self-consciously.

“Sorry. I’m — still — uhm, readjusting. Thanks for coming by, I really did need the guide.”

Beat’s brow furrows; a gesture that Neku learnt years ago that he was making note of a crucial piece of information, and kick-flipping it into the pile of things to follow up on, when the time is better suited.

“A’ight, Phones, whatever you say.” Beat drives his heel down onto his skateboard, using the velocity to catch it and tuck it beneath his arm. He gestures in the direction of their destination, before lifting a brow with obvious concern. “You sure you're okay?”

“I’m okay,” Neku replies automatically, keeping his head tucked down and his eyes trained in front of him as he strides in the direction Beat is heading. “Just — uh, kinda like you suspected… It’s...weird, settling back in, I suppose.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Neku replies, his shoulders sagging. It was the first time he’d admitted that to anyone else. He usually prefers to keep his friends from needing to worry about him, but he’d forgotten how difficult it was to be anything but completely sincere around Beat. “My parents… They thought I was in school in Yokahama all this time. That I’ve been home for holidays, that they know my interests, what colleges I want to go to, and… It’s just so weird, you know? It’s like I’m some whole other person. I don’t really know how I fit into it.”

Beat throws him a sympathetic look.

“I get that, man,” Beat answers, surprisingly solemn. “If it hadn’t been for Rhyme and Shiki… I dunno, I think I woulda gone nuts. Goin’ back to school ‘n shit, tryin’ to act like nothin’ had happened…” He snorts. “Y’know my class made some huge get well soon card? For all the time Rhyme ‘n me were in the ‘hospital’?”

He shook his head, visibly gritting his jaw.

“I couldn’t even keep the details of the stupid ‘accident’ straight, it just all felt so dumb. Then on top a’ that, I knew you were out there too, so how the hell was I ‘sposed to focus? On stupid shit like grades? Didn’t make no sense to me, yo.”

Neku bites his lip. He wants to apologise, but knows Beat would just feel bad. This wasn’t about Neku. Not really.

“Your folks still gave you a hard time about that stuff?”

“Hells yeah they did! You’d think gettin’ hit by a car mighta changed their tune, but they were up my ass about everythin’ first chance they got, yo.” He rolls his eyes to the sky, yanking at the chain he wears around his neck. “‘Least I don’t gotta put up with their bitchin’ no more.”

Neku blinks, taken aback.

“Are they…” he begins, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. “Did they...pass?”

Beat whips around to look at him, aghast, and the sheer mix of confusion and shock plastered on his face is more than enough to settle Neku’s concern.

“What?! Are they dead? Hell nah!” He blows his fringe out of his eyes, recovering himself. “Nah, I just moved out, got my own place. It ain’t much, but it’s mine, yanno?”

Neku’s eyes widen.

“Really? Does Rhyme live with you too?”

Beat waves his hand, dismissively.

“Rhyme? Nah, she’s old enough ta’ take care of herself.”

Okay, now Neku is the one going bug-eyed, lips parting in surprise.

“Sorry, what did you say? Rhyme can take care of herself? Who are you and — ”

“— what have you done with Beat?”

He cuts him off with such perfect timing, that Neku can’t help but laugh. Then Beat is laughing too, which just makes Neku laugh even harder, until they’re reduced to two idiots standing in the middle of the pavement holding their sides as they crack up. People brush past, and he’s aware of the kind of stares they’re attracting, but he doesn’t really care, and it seems like Beat doesn’t either.

Damn. He’d missed laughing like this.

He’d missed laughing with the person who made him laugh the most.

He’d missed Beat.

Beat finally straightens up, still chuckling but visibly trying to get his shit together.

“A’ight, a’ight. I guess it is still funny.” He wipes his eye with the back of his wrist, and resumes guiding them down the street, still grinning. “Seriously, though, she’s smart as hell — I mean, shit, wi’out her, Shibuya woulda been screwed! ‘Sides,” Beat cracks his knuckles. “City is pretty small, yo. I catch wind of any freaks creepin’ ‘round her…”

He quickly makes a fist, driving it into the palm of his left hand with an audible smack.

“...Then I’ll make sure they get the beatdown they deserve!”

Neku shakes his head, fondly.

“Still the same old Beat, huh?”

He’d spoken in jest, but for whatever reason, it causes Beat’s expression to darken all of a sudden. He turns away from Neku, fixing his gaze firmly on the street as he quickens his pace.

“C’mon,” Beat urges, and Neku knows him well enough to recognise he’s forcing the upbeat tone to his voice. “We gonna be late, yo.”

Neku wants to ask what’s wrong. Neku wants to apologise. Neku wants to pull him close and tell him just how much he’s missed him, how when things were at their darkest, it was Beat’s determination that inspired him, that when his resolve wavered, he’d thought about hearing Beat’s laugh again. How he’d never fully been able to understand what a light in the darkness truly was, until he was left alone in the destroyed remains of nothingness, with no one but the voices of the dead for company — and his memories to keep him sane.

Instead, all Neku does is murmur ‘okay’, and hurry after his friend,

[23:43]
BEAT
yo phones
soz

NEKU
Hey.
What are you apologising for?

BEAT
bein weird

Neku frowns at his phone, stuffing another pillow behind his back. Yeah, Beat had been kind of weird out of the blue, but he wasn’t sure it really warranted an apology. Sure, he’d been a little anxious when Beat spent most of his time at the desserts diner clowning around with the kids, but he’d tried to convince himself he was reading too much into it.

He wishes he could remember what had triggered the change. They’d been laughing about an inside joke, and then…

NEKU
You weren’t weird! :)
Thanks for the help getting there btw. I would have for sure gotten lost.

BEAT
lol we gotta teach u about emojis dude or the kids gonna roast u
np
yo phones?

NEKU
Sup?

BEAT
things ok w ur folks?

Neku flinches. Did Beat still have some kind of leftover scanning power from the Games or something? His parents and him had the mother of all arguments that night over dinner, born out of his mom being annoyed he was still full from going out with the gang earlier, and escalating into a full-blown fight about college applications and his future. How the hell was Neku supposed to apply for university? He hadn’t even studied anything for the best part of three years! He’d thought he might have found a solution by suggesting a gap year, where he could secretly get tutoring or something, but his parents had insisted he’d spent enough time away in Yokahama as it was.

Thanks, Josh, he thinks scornfully, flipping his middle finger at the ceiling. Flawless strategy. As always.

NEKU
Not really.
I know all teenagers think their parents don’t know them, but...mine literally don’t.

BEAT
heh word
i was thinkin
u wanna stay here?
got an extra room case rhyme ever needed it but she dont rly
all good if no just thot id ask

Shit. Is Beat being serious? Because if he is, Neku genuinely can’t think of anything he would want more. Getting to just be in a space where he didn’t have to put on some constant act to a script he didn’t even write, with a friend who had lived it all with him, with someone he trusts more than anyone, no more constantly having to spend his day researching some stupid city he’d never even been to...

BEAT
u there?
soz if that was weird
or sudden
just like i know how tough the bullshitin gets yanno

NEKU
All good, I’m here.
It’s not weird. Thank you.
Do you mean it though? Like, you really wouldn’t mind?

Neku watches for a full two minutes as the ‘...’ symbol bounces on his messaging app, signalling that the other person is typing. And so, he’s surprised when the message finally arrives.

BEAT
no dont mind
sall good

NEKU
Then if you’re sure… That would be great, actually.
Thanks, Beat. Really.

BEAT
nw
just lmk whenever u ready n ill help ya move if ya want
heres a pin
[PINNED LOCATION]

NEKU
Is tomorrow too soon?

BEAT
ye it fine
shiki is my boss lol her or eri will cover my shift @ store if need to
hey
welcome home phones

NEKU
Thanks, Beat :]

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya...”

“...it ain’t much, but it’s mine. I got it, Beat. Can you let us in already? Not all of us are built with arms like yours’.”

Neku doesn’t miss the way Beat’s face reddens at his remark, but he doesn’t really have the extra brain power to think about it. Not when he’s struggling beneath the weight of a box full of half his earthly possessions.

Beat, meanwhile, has the other half of Neku’s belongings balanced between shoulder and arm like it was nothing, turning the keys to his apartment with his free hand. With all the extra layers Beat wears these days, Neku had forgotten how ridiculously strong his friend is. He briefly wonders if the kids ever witnessed Beat successfully punching his way through Reaper walls, or had the afterlife brushed up their defences after tangling with the blonde powerhouse.

“Ain’t mine anymore, Phones,” Beat chuckles, jangling the keychain in his hand before pushing open the door. “It’s ours’.”

He bashfully ushers Neku in ahead of him, and so, Neku obliges, pausing in the doorway to take the place in. The way Beat had been talking about it, he’d honestly expected a kitchenette, couch, and at best, a partition wall for a bedroom. But no, the entire front room is a living room in and of itself, a couch and beanie bags in front of a TV, with a fitted kitchen nestled in the back. There’s a grand total of three other doors that he can see, that he guesses must then make up Beat’s room, the bathroom, and what was gonna be... Neku’s room.

Sure, it’s hardly going to make the front few pages of a real estate magazine — the furniture is so mix-and-match that it’s clear Beat has been accepting all sorts of hand-me-downs — but for whatever reason, the place feels more like home than…

Damn. It’s been so long since he’s ever stopped and considered a place home. For the last few years, home had been an abstract concept to return to. Home had been Shibuya, the people that made it so special. Home had been the people that made up Shibuya’s lifeblood, people like Shiki, people like —

“Yo, Phones? Like, izzit okay? ‘Cuz I, like, get it yanno, can help you bring this stuff back over, don’t sweat it, yo — ”

“It’s perfect, Beat,” Neku finally answers, flashing him a warm smile, before taking his first step into his new home. Their home.

As soon as he does, Beat grabs the box he had been carrying, lifts it onto his free shoulder like it weighs nothing. He smirks at Neku’s obvious shock, then gestures with his chin and elbow in the direction of the kitchen..

“I got beers in the fridge if ya wanna celebrate, or whatever. Imma go put these in your room.”

Your room. It’s not exactly a foreign concept: Neku has had his own room at his parents’ house since he was at least three years old. But the word hasn’t carried quite as much weight as it does now. For such a long part of his life, all he wanted was to be left well alone. Never have to think about people, never have to worry about them, never have to concern himself with them worrying about him.

(As if he could ever make Beat stop worrying about him.)

“Beers,” he announces to the empty living space. “I can get the beers.”

By the time Beat emerges from Neku’s room, Neku is perched awkwardly on the armrest of the sofa, holding up his own bottle in apology.

“I didn’t know if you prefer drinking from the bottle, or from a glass, then I didn’t know where to find any glasses — ” He’s cut off as Beat cuts in front of him, only to try grab a bag from the corner that Neku now recognises as brand-new bedsheets. Fuck. Just how much of the bill of this ‘roommates’ thing is Beat planning on footing?

“Bottle’s fine! S’all good, jus’ like I said! Just settle down, yo, make yourself at home… I mean, it is your home, but, lemme get your bed set up ‘n — ”

Neku lets out a little laugh.

“Can you just relax for a lil’ while? With me? You’re always racing ahead. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Beat looks a little embarrassed, but drops the bag back where it had been all the same, and lets himself collapse back onto the couch.

“Here’s hopin’ you ain’t,” he retorts, before patting the seat beside him. “Sit down properly, yo. That can’t be comfy.”

Neku shuffles so that he can ease himself down onto the couch, taking care not to spill the open bottles. He leans back into it, passing Beat his beer.

“Huh. Comfortable couch.”

“Yeah, Eri’s folks gave it t’me. They’re real nice, yo, donated a bunch of cool shit.” Beat sips his beer, settling back into the cushioning with a thoughtful expression. “Whatchu make of Eri? That was the first time ya met her, right?”

Kind of, he thinks to himself, reflecting on those moments with Shiki where the two of them had watched Eri mourn her friend. Of seeking out Eri himself at Shiki’s grave, trying to tell her how sorry he was, wishing he could reassure her just how much Shiki loved her, how he was never going to give up on her, that he was going to get her back.

This had been different, though. He’d been admittedly nervous about how he’d feel getting used to being around Eri, given that Shiki had been forced into wearing her appearance during all the time they’d spent together. But… The real surprise was how easy it had actually been. Yes, Eri looked like the girl in his memories, but the Soul was distinctly different. Shiki’s Soul was so powerful, that separating her from Eri’s appearance was actually incredibly simple.

“Yeah,” he answers, a smile tugging his lips as he thinks of Shiki and Eri together. “She seems really nice. It’s great Shiki can tell her everything too. I was amazed how much she…understood.”

“Fo’ sho’,” Beat agrees. “The whole thing sounds so crazy, I didn’t know if it was a good idea when Shiki said she was gonna tell her, but, it’s her girl, yanno, it’s hard enough keeping it from friends ‘n shit…” He picks at a piece of couch fabric. “...s’good. Good to have another friend. It’s tough havin’ friends that don’t know.”

He sounds so uncharacteristically melancholy that Neku can’t help but study his face. Beat’s gaze is fixed determinedly on the rim of his beer bottle, a small frown creasing his forehead. Neku wonders if it’s appropriate to dig deeper. Probably not, but maybe this is his chance to bring up something that’s been troubling him.

“Hey, Beat, do you mind me asking you something?”

The serious expression on the other man’s face falls away, his glower turning into a dazzling grin as easy as the sun splitting through the clouds.

“You askin’ a question about whether you can ask a question?”

Neku grabs one of the decorative couch cushions, and whacks Beat lightly with it.

“I’m being polite!”

Beat laughs, grabbing the pillow off Neku and tucking it to his chest, smirking as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Ask away, Phones.”

“What you were saying last night, about being weird… I didn’t think you were being weird, but. Uhm. I was worried that I’d upset or offended you, yeah. Do you mind...telling me? What it was?” Beat’s smile slips away, and Neku hurriedly waves his palm in the air. “You don’t have to! It’s totally okay! I just wanna make sure I don’t do it again by accident, you know?”

He resists the urge to reach over and grab Beat’s hand, squeeze it. Barely, but he resists it.

Beat’s expression softens a little, and he shifts forward with a sigh, positioning his elbows on his knees. He still isn’t looking at Neku, too set on scrutinizing the label of his beer apparently, but Neku recognises the look on his face even after all this time. It was the one he wore when he was trying to shoulder past all his self-doubts, his worst fears, the one that reminded Neku how Beat never gave up on something. On someone.

“Nah, you didn’t do anything, Phones,” he finally replies, swilling his beer. “S’just… You didn’t mean to or nothin’, just what you said ‘bout not changin’...” His eyelids flutter shut with a sigh. “Man, I changed. I dunno how to explain it. S’just… Everyone kept movin’ on, ‘n I was happy for them! I wanted — want — them to be happy! Rhyme finally has a dream, Shiki has Eri, but I… I-I — I just wanted to find you, yo.” He takes a long sip of his beer, not moving his gaze from straight ahead of him. “Three years, ‘n I just — just couldn’t move on. Move past it. I was… I was angry, dude, angry at everyone else for bein’ able to handle it better, angry at myself for bein’ so messed up over it, then angry at myself for being angry about everyone else… I dunno. Sometimes it was just easier being alone.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Then when I realised I was in the UG again… Shit, man, I felt alive again. Which, ha ha, I know — iconique or whatever — ”

“Ironic.”

“— yeah, that — it was like this weight was lifted off my chest, yanno? Like…” Beat is peeling off the label from the beer now, folding his leg over the other knee and bouncing his foot. “...I knew, then, that I was in the right place if I was gonna find you. You wouldn’t…”

Beat’s voice seems to break, but he covers it up quickly by taking another long swig of his beer. Neku’s chest feels tight.

“....you wouldn’t leave me hanging like that, yo. I don’t know a lot of things, but I knew that much.”

Crap. That urge to reach over and grab his hand, lay his fingers on Beat’s shoulder, anything, is stronger than ever now, and Neku still isn’t sure what’s the right course of action. So long as he’s known Beat, he’s been about not being scared to hold back what you’re really feeling, but it’s been years now, and there’s still so much to catch up on. He doesn’t want…

He doesn’t want to hurt Beat. Not any more than he’s already hurt him that is.

“Beat,” he murmurs, reaching out his arm and resting it on the couch, beside Beat’s lap. Beat looks first at Neku’s hand, before raising his head and finally meeting his eyes. There’s such an overwhelming abundance of feeling written across his expression that Neku genuinely aches with the lack of knowledge of what to do with it. “You’re right, if there had been a way, I swear I would’ve found it. There wasn’t a single day where I didn’t think about getting back to you — to you guys.”

And it’s true: if not for the reminder Beat and Shiki were waiting on the other side for him, Neku’s not sure he could have kept up the fight. Three years was a long time, especially when the only other ‘human’ contact you had were traces of erased Souls, and a Reaper who had killed you in order to make sure you could get trapped there in the first place.

“I thought about you all the time. About some kind of way of sending a message back to you and Shiki.” He huffs out an exasperated laugh, tipping the beer bottle back against his lips. “I even tried Reaper Creeper! Hoping maybe there was some way that the strength of a message might help it carry it across a city, but…”

Neku presses the base of the bottle against his forehead, sighing at the sensation of cold glass against his skin.

“I’m so sorry, Beat. I know it all worked out for the best, but I should’ve trusted your instincts with Coco, then maybe — ”

He’s cut off as both of their cell phones buzz at the exact same time.

“Uhh — ” Beat and Neku react, their voices ringing in tandem. They both cast wide-eyed looks at one another, before their phones vibrate again,

[18:04]
FRET
EMERGENCY STATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BEAT
?

FRET
SHOKA IS BACK I REPEAT SHOKA IS BACK RINDO IS WITH SHOKA REPEAT

Oh. Shit.

FRET
emergency meeting, Twisters!!! get to spicy Curry Don ASAP!!!!!!

Beat’s already leapt to his feet by the time Neku finishes reading.

“Unpackin’ can wait. We got some more kids to rescue, yo.”

Chapter Text

By the time they arrive at The Don’s new curry shack, Shoka was midway through demolishing what was apparently her second plate of biryani. The rest of the Twisters — plus Shiki and Eri — were seated around her, their own food barely touched. Rindo sat at her side, his expression concerned, and for some reason, a little abashed.

“—but where did you sleep, Shokie? Like, is there some kinda secret Reaper base? Is that where you guys live? Can you stay there when you’re in the RG? Is anyone even there, like who’s left ‘sides Candyman and —”

“Give her at least a chance to swallow her food, Fret,” Neku lightly scolds the younger boy as he and Beat arrive at the table.

Fret whips around in surprise, then looks immediately bashful, scratching the back of his head.

“Sorry! It’s just exciting! Also, hey, you guys! Check it out, we found Shokie!”

“Came as soon as we got your message, yo.” Beat pulls up one of the empty chairs, flips it around and sits down so that his arms are propped up on the back of the seat. He feels a little bad about having to drag Neku out with him less than ten minutes after the poor guy had moved in, but an emergency was an emergency, and they’d all been worried sick about Shoka since she vanished. “‘Sup Kitty Girl? You doin’ okay?”

Shoka finally manages to finish chewing her food, swallowing before taking a long chug of water. She looks paler since he last saw her, and maybe it was his imagination, but kind of skinnier too. Though it was hard to really tell underneath that huge piggy hoodie she always wore.

“No, I’m not okay!” she answers, face turning red. “I’ve been lost in this stupid city for a whole month! I’m starving, and I’m tired, and I had to break into the back of some of the stores to sleep at night, and run away before they could find me in the morning, and it was cold, but I didn’t have anything other than my clothes on my back and —”

“It’s okay, Shoka,” Shiki says, laying a reassuring hand on her sleeve. “You’re here now. Just worry about eating up as much curry as you like, then we’ll help you sort out all the other stuff!”

“It’s just so hard!” Shoka whines, pulling her hood down over her eyes. “I didn’t have to think about this stuff when I was a Reaper! I forgot how much stuff you have to remember when you’re....when you’re…”

“...alive?” Neku finishes, his voice sympathetic. He’d sat down beside Beat at some point, and oh, damn, that’s right. Neku hadn’t been alive the last three years either. He guesses him and Kitty Girl have that much in common.

“Yeah,” Shoka replies, miserably.

“‘Tis quite a conundrum to find oneself in,” Nagi pipes up, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “The world you have been thrust into should be familiar to you, but the needs and demands of human life are not. How dreadfully cruel a trick for that celestial being to have played!”

“Tha’s Prissy Kid for ya,” Beat snorts, pounding his fist off the table. “He thinks dis’ kinda shit is funny, yo… Chuckin’ a kid out ta’ fend for herself in the city… I’m gonna beat his ass if he ever shows his creepy face again!”

Shiki shakes her head, her face screwed up angrily.

“Honestly, Beat… I’ll join you.”

Their eyes meet across the table, and Beat grins, in spite of himself.

“‘Atta girl.”

“So you had to break into buildings for shelter?” Eri asks Shoka, sneaking in a reassuring squeeze of Shiki’s shoulder. Shiki reddens, turning her attention back to the girl at her side. Shoka pushes her curry around the plate, looking deflated after her outburst. Beat can’t help but wonder why Rindo looks so damn guilty. Maybe he blamed himself for not being able to find her sooner? Beat can definitely relate to that.

“Pretty much. I know the city really well from being a Reaper, but I’m accustomed to being able to take certain...shortcuts. And I’m not used to people being able to see me. The first night… I didn’t know what to do, I just wandered around until I was so exhausted, I ended up falling asleep on the street.”

The whole table falls silent at that, with the exception of Fret’s low whistle. Beat’s fists tighten. Yup, Prissy Kid was gonna pay.

“...But the next morning, I was watching some of the stores and… One of the clerks at Jupiters’ is a total flake, he left the key in the lock so I just grabbed it. Luckily they never bothered changing the locks, so I’d just sneak in and out of the store when it was closed. Sometimes they left food over from lunch, so I could eat that but otherwise… Well, it’s not like I had any money.”

“That sounds horrible,” murmurs Eri with a pained expression. Beat, for his part, is finding it extremely difficult to not start punching something. Maybe The Don had some plates in the back that he’d like smashed against the wall.

Someone’s hand finds his shoulder, then, and when he whips around, it’s Neku, of course it’s Neku, his bright blue eyes locking with his. Three years may have passed, but he can still read what he’s trying to say by one look alone. I know this sucks, his expression seems to say, I know it does and I know you’re pissed, and later you can tell me all about it, but let’s just get through this, okay? Neku squeezes his shoulder, and Beat grits his jaw, but gives him a slight nod, before turning back and letting his chin fall onto his own interlaced hands. The anger doesn’t dissipate, but Neku is right: it’s not gonna solve anything right now, and Shoka needs their help.

“It’s my fault,” Rindo blurts out, after a long period of silence. “I missed Shoka’s message, I had all these stupid notifications soon as I got back and it so weird trying to sort them out, since everyone got all those freaky fake memories of us for those three weeks… I just avoided them instead of dealing with it. I’m so sorry, Shoka.”

“Absolute bonehead move, Rindude,” Fret declares with a sigh. Nagi shoots him a look, then leans over and pokes his phone on the table.

“It says here that you have 872 unread messages, good knave.”

“Hee-eyyy! That’s different!”

“I fail to see how.”

“‘Cause like, that’s part of the cool persona I’ve carefully crafted for myself! Chill, laid-back Fret, maybe he’ll reply, maybe he won’t?” He gestures making a question mark in the air with his hands. “Adds to the mystery!”

“I highly doubt anyone harbours any curiosity about what lies behind your exterior. I’ve nary met anyone who wears so much of their heart on their sleeve.”

“But I’m not wearing any sleeves!”

“Fret, Nagi.” Neku interjects, his hand slipping from Beat’s shoulder. Some of the warmth seems to leave the room with it. “I’m sure Rindo feels bad enough as it is. The important thing is that Shoka is here now. The question is, what do we do next? I take it you still don’t have anywhere to stay, Shoka?”

Shoka pulls on the ears of her hoodie, shrinking into it a little. The sight of her curling inward on herself like that has a profound effect on making Beat’s protective big brother senses flare up.

“You know,” Shiki says thoughtfully, touching her chin. “Eri and I have been talking for quite a while about getting a place together… It would make work a lot easier, and, well.” She blushes, and Eri giggles. “It’s kind of about time, you know? This might just be the incentive we need — and Shoka, you could move in with us!”

Shoka’s face snaps up, her hood falling back around her shoulders. Yeah, she is definitely looking gaunter than usual. Beat thinks maybe a third bowl of curry is in order, once she’s done eating that one.

“You — really? I — I mean, I don’t want to be a burden, it’s not you guys’ responsibility that I’m here, and —“

Shiki waves her hand dismissively.

“You wouldn’t be a burden! It would be fun!”

“And besides!” Eri chimes in, leaning in over Shiki. “Everyone told us what a big Gatto Nero fan you are, maybe you could help us out? With designs, or production, or maybe even being a model! You totally rock wearing Mr Mew!”

It’s hard not to smile at the way Shoka desperately tries to hide her excitement: pulling a napkin to her face to try mask her smile, but her eyes are lighting up in a way that reminds Beat of Pinny whenever she talks about her favourite video game character.

“Seriously? I mean — that’s really nice of you, I’d — Gatto Nero? I could really work… I mean, yeah.” She coughs, dabbing her mouth delicately. Yup, she was grinning behind that scrap of fabric. “That would be like, pretty cool, if you guys didn’t mind. And I’d pull my weight, I promise! I actually kinda miss having a job.”

“Then it’s settled!” Shiki declares, sitting back in her chair and clapping her hands together. A frown soon falls over her face, however.

“The only problem is…what to do until we find a place? Even if we act fast, it’s going to take at least a couple of weeks…”

“Alas, but security within my campus is rather tight,” Nagi laments in between mouthfuls of rice. “And they would surely be suspect of someone who so obviously resembles a high-schooler, residing amidst grown adults!”

Beat can’t help but wonder how the hell campus security didn’t suspect Nagi in that case, but even he knows better than to give voice to the thought.

“My parents definitely wouldn’t understand,” Rindo says, looking down at his plate dejectedly. “I’m sorry, Shoka.”

“Mine either… But we could do a whole ‘Stranger Things’ gimmick, maybe! Hey, Shokie, have you ever considered shaving your head?”

That was it. Enough talk.

“Yo, Kitty Girl! You can stay with Phones ‘n me!”

Wait, shit. It was their apartment now: he can’t be going around just making the decisions for both of them. Abashed, he pivots to look at Neku, hoping his friend doesn’t think he’s the dickhead of the century for making all this fuss over it being their place, and then just presuming this would be okay. Shit, or that he just ran around inviting people to live with him all the damn time. The whole point had been to help Neku get some space whilst he readjusts back to the RG and now Beat’s gone and —

Oh. Neku is beaming fondly back at him in a way that’s making it very, very hard to think about anything else other than that smile.

“Uh...only if that’s good wi’ you, yo, I mean — not t’put you on the spot or —”

“It’s a great idea, Beat,” Neku reassures him, turning to look at Shoka. “Would you be okay with that?”

Oh. Right. He should look at Shoka. Not Neku.

When he turns around, his face feeling bizarrely hot — which is weird, given that it’s not like he’s eaten any curry or anything — he’s taken aback to find that the entire table is staring at the pair of them. Great. He can feel his cheeks burning an even brighter shade of crimson.

“Wh-what? I mean, jus’ until Shiki ‘n Eri find a place! She —”

“You guys are living together?” Fret asks, eyebrows raised.

“Huh? Yeah! Phones just moved in today. We were just about t’unpack when ya text.”

“You owe me ¥500, Lord Rindo.”

“Not now, Nagi.”

Beat gives them a puzzled stare: the kids were betting on him and Neku living together? That was kind of...weird, but whatever. He turns his attention back on Shoka, who has her gaze fixed down on the half-finished plate of food in front of her as she fidgets with her sleeve.

Beat doesn’t know much. But he knows what it’s like to feel like you’re the cause of everyone else’s problems, he’d been through it so many times with his folks that he’d even begun to think that it would be better for everyone — including Rhyme — if he left altogether, so as to give them an easier life.

He recognises that feeling written across Shoka’s features right now, no matter how much she tries to bury herself into the folds of her hoodie.

Nah. He ain’t having any of that.

“Yo! Kitty Girl!” Shoka startles at the uptick of volume to his voice, but Beat ploughs on ahead. “Look, you got a place at ours’, a’ight? For as long as you need it! And not ‘cuz you’re a — whazzat? Burren?”

“Burden,” Neku corrects him. “Which you’re not, Shoka.”

“Yeah, you ain’t! You’re like family now, a’ight? An’ family looks out for one anotah’. So whatchu say?”

“Eri and I would be happy to provide clothes too, if you like,” Shiki adds, “there’s plenty for you to help yourself from the store, and it would be super fun to make you some original stuff too!”

For just the briefest of moments, Shoka looks like she might cry.

And that Beat recognises too, that feeling that you don’t deserve the kindness and love other people show for you. He might not be as close to Shoka as Rindo, or Fret, but he’s been there. Having to make sense of Rhyme’s death, her sacrifice, the way she had died over and over for Beat’s mistakes. How close he’d been to giving into that despair, that certainty that his own self-doubts were true — that Rhyme had died for a no-good, hopeless case like him.

It had been Neku who had pulled him out of that pit. Neku who had helped him bring his sister back to life. He couldn’t bring back the people Shoka had lost, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to let her throw away the life she can have here, just ‘cause she didn’t think she deserves it.

“You gonna turn down exclusive Gatto Nero merch, Kitty Girl? C’mon! You love that pig!”

“It’s a cat!” Both Shoka and Shiki snap at him at once, in perfect synch. Eri starts giggling, as does Shiki, then Fret, and soon the whole table is throwing their heads back laughing. It’s dinner hour, meaning the restaurant isn’t exactly empty, but it’s hard to feel bad about it. Their gang has gone through enough the past few months — years — they deserve a few moments of happiness here and there. Then Shoka does start crying, but it’s punctuated by little hiccups of laughter, and she’s smiling even as she tries to wipe the tears from her face.

“That’s it! Group hug!” Fret announces, leaping up from his seat and around the other side of the table. He manages to at least dodge Shiki and Eri in his lunge, but wrestles both Shoka and Rindo into what looks more like a choke hold than a hug. “C’mon, Boss! Get in here! Beat, Neku!”

Rindo is batting at Fret, desperately, but even he is looking like he’s finally starting to relax, so whilst Nagi pulls herself from her seat to grab at Fret’s ear, Beat leans back and tries to catch Neku’s eye. He hopes he’s okay with this idea: it’s temporary, but still, Neku was still trying to settle himself, did he really need —

“You’ve gone and got yourself another kid sister,” the redhead quips, and man, there’s no mistaking the warmth in the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “I hope she knows what she’s in for.”

Beat laughs, elbowing his friend lightly.

“Rindo better behave himself, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

It’s hard not to think about Neku’s smile. It’s even harder looking away from it.

It makes him absurdly grateful when Shiki clears her throat in order to call order back to the entire ‘Operation: Shoka’. He’s not going to think about why that is.

He’s not.

In the end, Eri and Shiki had insisted on accompanying Shoka, Beat and Neku home, albeit not without stopping by 104 first to stock up on “essentials”. Essentials turned out to be a bunch of fruit-fragranced toiletries (that honestly smelled pretty good), and a bunch of clothes from Gatto Nero. A lot of clothes, with both owners assuring Shoka the whole time that they would be making more for her soon. Shoka was having a tough time maintaining the usual aloof composure she liked to keep up around the others, her eyes sparkling with each item of clothing the girls pulled off the railings. Beat and Neku hung back, both already laden with shopping bags from the other stores. At this rate, Shoka was going to be moving in with more stuff than Neku had. Not too bad for a kid that had, up until a few hours ago, been living on the street.

“So,” Neku begins, watching Eri hold up a pair of earrings to Shoka’s head. “About the uh, sleeping arrangements.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, don’t sweat it, Phones, I’ll take the couch.”

“No — Beat, you don’t need to do that! I’ll take the sofa, it’s your —“

“If you call it my apartment one more time dude, I’m gonna smack ya upside the damn head. It’s our place now, man, I’m already kinda putting ya out. Tellin’ ya that ya should move in so you could get some space ‘n shit… ‘m sorry, just couldn’t leave Kitty Girl hanging like that after all she been through, ya feel me?”

“Beat,” Neku sighs, shifting beneath the weight of the bags. He wouldn’t let Beat carry any extra, even though Beat was concerned his twig arms were struggling with the weight. “You didn’t put me out! I’m glad you invited Shoka, she deserves a break after what she’s been through. I thought I found it hard adjusting back to the RG, she’s…”

He trails off, and Beat bites his lip. Damn. This shit is so screwed up. Thinking about it makes him feel mad at Joshua all over again, but also, angry at himself for not knowing the right thing to say.

“…anyway, I really don’t mind taking the couch. I’ve slept worse.”

“An’ tha’s exactly why you should get the bedroom!” Beat realises he’s raising his voice, and winces a little as Shiki throws him a confused look. He can’t help it: all that talk of the ways in which Shoka had been forced to get by, it just has him thinking of what Neku must have gone through too. He sighs, making an effort to lower his volume. “Look, the couch is comfy, okay? Said so yourself! Donchu’ worry ‘bout me.”

Neku doesn’t look entirely convinced, but finally gives in.

“Okay, okay. I know better than to argue when you got an idea in your head. But, maybe…” Neku coughs, looking away from Beat and, huh — is he blushing? “If it’s okay with you…well I was just thinking, my room is all like, brand new, unlived in, so it might be…nice? For Shoka? To have her own space? Not — not that there’s anything wrong with your room!” He looks back at Beat, and it’s actually pretty endearing how red his face turns, especially with the colour of his hair. “I know I haven’t seen it but I’m sure it’s really nice! Sorry, this sounds really rude —“

Beat cuts him off by bumping his shoulder into him with a laugh.

“Nah, man, I gotchu. You prob’ly right — dunno how impressed Kitty Girl would be with my room. You don’t mind, though?”

“No, of course not! I just feel bad kicking you out of your own bed, hence why —“

“Couch is all mine, Phones,” Beat declares decisively, before Neku can argue the point all over again. “Lemme do dat much for ya. Oh shit, it looks like they’re finally done.”

The three girls are approaching them with smiles, although Neku groans at the sight of what they’re holding.

“More bags. Great.”

Beat snickers, bumping his shoulder off Neku’s playfully.

“This ain’t nothin’, yo. Wait ‘till ya ever have to help Eri ‘spring clean’ her wardrobe. Now give me one of those carriers be’fo ya snap yo’ damn skinny arms clean off.”

Neku’s arms felt like they may very well actually fall off by the time they make it back to their apartment, even though Beat had taken the brunt of carrying the baggage. Not that it shows: he immediately launches into giving Shoka a grand tour of the apartment, whilst Shiki and Eri pluck what they need from him in order to start stocking up the place to make it more habitable for a teenage girl.

Shoka is looking a bit dazed, and Neku really can’t blame her. This was a lot to take in, even without factoring in the entire resurrection stuff. It’s probably for the best that they get her room in order as quickly as possible, so that she can finally climb into an actual bed, and get some well-deserved rest. Also, Neku would finally be able to put down the shopping.

He mumbles as much as he crosses the living area for the spare room, but Shoka seems too wrapped up in trying to understand Beat’s explanation of how to change the water temperature for the shower on the bathroom’s control panel. Neku is probably going to have to revisit that tutorial with her later, going by the look on her face.

He hadn’t actually had a chance to see the spare room earlier; Beat had been too determined to take care of all the heavy lifting, and then Fret’s message about Shoka had interrupted them before he could unpack. It’s actually impressively roomy, albeit sparse: Rhyme’s influence is minimal, but still there if you know what to look for. A heap of books on coding stacked on top of the wardrobe that most definitely do not belong to Beat, an old laptop covered in skull stickers on the desk, and hey, even a black and pink Mr Mew plushie nestled on the bed. Shoka would like that.

Neku dumps the bags down on the middle of the carpet with as much grace as possible, wincing as he rubs his sore fingers. The two boxes of his own belongings were set down in front of the bed, still untouched, and he supposes he might as well bring them into Beat’s room for now. Ugh. Just two more heavy objects to carry. Then his arms could catch a fucking break.

It dawns on him, however, as he’s hauling one of the boxes up with a grimace, that he’s been so damn busy ever since he got here, he’s not once had the time to get caught up in his own head. No trying (and failing) to repress memories of Shinjuku, no feeling lost in Shibuya, no more having to struggle to keep up with the lies about where he’s been the last three years… He’s just been able to be himself, existing in the now, with the people who really knew him. Knew what he’d been through. Knew the truth.

Aches and pains or no, that was...admittedly quite nice.

“...’n the sink drips sometimes, so what ya gotta do, is take the wrench out from underneath, right, and just smack it — hey, Phones! Jus’ leave it, I’ll get that in a bit.”

Neku peers out from behind the stack of his belongings to discover Beat has led Shoka into the — her — room, still carrying the pile of bags as if he’d forgotten about them. Shoka surveys the room, clearly stunned.

“This is...uhm...not what I expected? I thought it would be all, you know… You-like.”

Beat rolls his eyes, setting the bags down finally. He grabs one shoulder by the hand, and rotates it in his socket in a gesture Neku knows very well.

“It’s jus’ for when my sis’ wants to stay over. C’mon, I keep it real clean for her!”

Shoka blinks.

“So wait, if I’m here, then…” Her eyes widen and she waves her hands in the air as if she suddenly doesn’t want to say anymore. “Nevermind! I, uh, yeah, it’s like, totally cool. I just —”

Shiki and Eri appear at the door before Shoka can say anything else, peeking in.

“Oh, cute space!” Eri exclaims, beaming at Shoka. Shoka looks bashful — evidently her awe of the creators of her favourite clothing brand has yet to wear off. Shiki nods in agreement, before glancing at Shoka.

“Eri and I are about to head off, it’s getting kind of late. Is there anything else we can get you, Shoka?”

Shoka shakes her head, features obscured by her hood as she drags her toe across the carpet, shyly.

“N-no… This was...uhm...this was really nice of you guys. All of you.” She tugs at the ears of her hoodie again, looking for all the world like she just wants to disappear inside of it, before sighing and fully pushing it back, to smile at them each in turn. She looks like she might cry again, but the fear and doubt has lifted from her features entirely. “Really...thank you. I don’t know what I would have done…”

“No use worrying ‘bout dat, now. You’re good here, Shokie! Whatever you need, you just hollah for us, yo?”

She can’t help herself but to giggle, a single tear slipping from her eye that she quickly pushes away with her sleeve.

“Shokie? What happened to Kitty Girl?”

“You jus’ lucky it ain’t Piggy Girl. ‘Cuz I still think it looks like a damn pig.”

Shiki stomps her foot with a huff.

“And we will see you at work tomorrow, where you work for the cat brand, Daisuk—”

“Not funny! Okay, c’mon, scram! Give Kitty Girl some space, yo.” Beat grabs the other box of Neku’s belongings as if it weighs nothing, and follows the other girls out into the hall.

Neku turns in the doorway to the guest room, pausing for a moment to look at Shoka. He can see that, even through her oversized hoodie, she was trembling. He isn't sure if it's the tears, or something else, but it compels him to pause for just a moment.

“Shoka,” he says, softly. When she lifts her grey eyes to meet his gaze, he’s suddenly struck at just how young she looks in this moment.

It’s one thing to lose everything over the course of three years.

It’s another to lose it all in just three weeks.

“Just remember. You’re not alone. It will feel like that sometimes, and it’ll hurt like hell, but you need to hold on to what’s still here, not what’s gone. What you have ahead of you. Who you have.”

Her lip gives a visible quiver, fists bunching at her side.

“We’re all here for you. Take as much time as you need. Just know...we’re not going anywhere. You’re family now.”

And with that, he closes the door.

Neku pretends not to hear the quiet sob from the other side as the latch slides shut.

“Just how many skateboards do you own?” Neku asks Beat, staring up at his walls incredulously. Beat’s room, well… It was so wonderfully Beat. The walls are painted black, but decorated with graffiti, music posters, art prints, stickers, and of course, a back wall that was lined with row-to-row skateboards.

“S’my passion, Phones! I got t’building them too, a year or two back, so like… Kind of a hobby, I guess? I dunno. Sick, huh?” He sets one of the boxes down, and spins the wheel of one of the mounted boards. “Maybe one’a these days I’ll be able to convince you to get on one. Here, give me that box, dude, you look like y’gonna collapse.”

He grabs it from Neku before he has the chance to protest, and Neku swears in relief, rubbing at his aching limbs. Embarrassingly, he actually staggers a little when the weight is lifted from him, but Beat is there in an instant to catch him.

“Whoa, dude. Y’a’ight?”

“Yeah,” Neku mumbles, resisting the urge to let Beat hold up more of his weight. He’d been relying on his psychic powers for too damn long, it’s left him much weaker physically than he’d care to admit. “Just sore. You mind if I lie down for a bit?”

“‘Course, dude, need any more help unpackin’, or will I…”

“No,” Neku replies, too quickly, “I mean — not no — no, I don’t need help unpacking, what I mean is… Don’t go? Just yet?” Oh hell, could he sound any more pathetic? “Just — I just need to rest up, I still wanna hang out with you, if that’s cool.”

“Oh — oh! Right! Lie down. Like, lie down. Gotcha.” Beat grins, setting the box neatly aside, between the bed and wardrobe, then turns and flourishes his arms dramatically, before falling backwards onto the bed. He squeezes one eye shut, smirking up at Neku. “Go on! Whatcha waitin’ for?”

Neku is biting his lip in his struggle to keep from laughing at just how goofy this is, but figures to hell with it, who cares? Certainly not Beat, who is in the process of kicking his shoes off as he shimmies more of his upper body onto the bed, so that his legs dangle over the side.

Yeah, okay. That did look comfortable. Neku gives a half laugh, tucks his hands behind his head, and allows himself to collapse fully back onto the mattress.

The mattress welcomes him with a sigh, one which Neku can’t help but echo as he feels the weight of his body sink into it, and with it, some of the tension he’s been holding.

“Damn, dude,” Beat chuckles, the bedding moving in time with his breath. “If you think this was bad, jus’ imagine when Eri ‘n Shiki need our help movin’ out…”

“Oh God,” Neku groans, rolling onto his side and burying his head into the duvet. “I can’t even imagine. And Shoka with them? Today was…”

He inhales, and with that breath, comes the realisation that these are Beat’s bedcovers he’s his face smothered into, that’s the smell of Beat — all sunshine and hair gel and that same cologne he’s used ever since he met him, the one Rhyme got him for his birthday one year — and shit. Was this weird of him? It definitely wasn’t weird, right?

He rolls back over onto his back, his face flushed, and realises that he hasn’t actually finished his sentence.

“...it was actually pretty great.”

There’s a pause, and then the subtlest of shifts on the bed that he thinks might be Beat peering down at him.

“Yeah? It wasn’t, like…” More shifting. Neku can tell he’s fidgeting. “...it wasn’t too much? This whole thing was ‘sposed… Ahh, I dunno. Let you take a break from worryin’, ‘n shit.”

Neku smiles up at the ceiling. Typical Beat. Worrying about other people not taking care of themselves. As if Beat ever stopped worrying about, or taking care of other people.

He pushes himself up onto one elbow, so that he can look at his friend. Beat had one hand tucked behind the back of his head, the other toying with the headphones hanging around his neck. Not for the first time, Neku wonders about those. But it’s not the right time to ask.

“There’s worrying about the doom of an entire city, and the people I care about that reside in it,” Neku begins, patiently, watching Beat’s face. His blue gaze does not move from where it’s fixed upon the roof. “Then there’s...today. It felt good. The two of us, working together again, with Shiki too. And Eri, of course. Just all of us working together to make something right, even for a little while…” He laughs, shaking his head ruefully. "I never used to do that stuff, before I met you guys. I don’t know. It was the closest I’ve felt to feeling normal, in...a really long time, I think.”

Beat rolls his head to meet his eyes, gnawing on his lip, the way he often does when he’s something he wants to say but doesn’t quite know how to find the words.

“Neku…”

An unexpected knock on the door has them both springing upright, Neku wincing as his back groans in protest at the sudden movement.

“C’mon in!” Beat yells, an octave or two higher than usual for some reason.

Shoka peeks the top of her head around the door quickly, assesses them both, then steps inside, her hand still hovering awkwardly on the frame. She’d clearly taken a shower, her long black hair bound up in a bun behind her head, and wearing fashionable black pajamas.

“Uhm,” she begins awkwardly, apparently still struggling to find her usual cocky, carefree attitude in this strange new world of her’s. “I was just like, looking for the WifFi password or whatever? ‘Cause like, uhm, I dunno what you losers are doing, but Rindo, Nagi and Fret said there was gonna be this, uhm, Def Märch marathon they’re watching, that should be good, but, you know, all I need is the password and I can —”

“No way!” Beat jumps up quickly, and damn, he really did radiate a lot of body heat, clearly, because Neku feels like the bed is markedly colder without him at his side. “Dëf March? Sick! Mind if we crash the party? Neku here got three years wortha catch-up of music ta’ do!”

“They’re still together? Even after what happened to 777?”

“Yeah, dude, the bassist ended up takin’ up vocals and he’s totally sick, yo. Not tha’ 777 could ever be replaced, yanno, but the band still totally rocks.”

“And we’re gonna like, totally miss it if you losers stay here all night just talking about it,” Shoka interrupts them, with an accompanying dramatic roll of her eyes. “Can we go watch it already? Fret says he was gonna do one of those streaming parties, so we could all like, watch it together.”

“Dope! C’mon, Phones, I’ll get ya set up on the network too.”

And so they end the night, Shoka snuggled into a beanbag, Neku and Beat curled up on opposite sides of the couch, with the laptop set up on the coffee table so that Rindo, Nagi and Fret were ‘present’ via a streaming call.

But it’s difficult for Neku to pay too much attention to the music, or the TV, despite how much he loves Dëf March. He can’t help but getting distracted by Beat’s laugh, the way his knee rubs against Neku’s each time he jostles in his seat, reaching for his beer or leaning over to ruffle Shoka’s hair. Neku finds himself wishing he was sitting closer, but can’t quite bring himself to shuffle nearer. He thinks about the way Beat had been staring up at him back on his bed, the uncharacteristically unreadable look in his eyes, the way he’d called him ‘Neku’ instead of ‘Phones’. What had he been going to say, before they’d been interrupted? Would he have said anything at all?

It’s strange, really. Being surrounded by so much life, so much warmth, so much Soul. It should be overwhelming.

But it's not.

Beat catches his eye as Shoka leans into the laptop, pointing accusingly at Rindo for the crime of calling her favourite song ‘sappy’, and grins, throwing his feet up onto Neku’s lap.

Neku smiles back, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. He recalls what he told Shoka earlier.

They’re family now. No one’s going anywhere.

Now all he had to do was convince himself that that last part was true.

Chapter Text

When Beat wakes up the following morning, he is forced to concede that okay, maybe the couch isn’t as comfortable to sleep on as he had thought it would be.

He winces as he sits up, rubbing at the muscle of his neck in an effort to massage the crick out of it. Damn. He was gonna have to be careful to not let Neku catch him doing that, or the damn fool would be insisting he switch places with Beat. Dude had probably been sleeping on the street for three years, or worse. He deserved some solid rest.

Neku… There’s a brief familiar flurry of panic in his chest, his shoulders seizing up, glancing first at the door to his room, and then around him — relaxing only when he spots Neku’s distinctive purple coat hanging up on the coat rack. Relief washes over him in a wave as he sinks back into the pillow, smiling a little to himself as he notices Shoka’s hoodie flung over the back of one of the kitchen stools.

Neku was here. The last month hadn’t been all some dream, some sick Game of the Reapers’, Neku was alive and he was here.

It’s still hard for him to really believe. For three years, he’d been haunted by the nightmare of watching Neku die in front of him over and over again, how powerless he’d been to stop it, just like he’d been with Rhyme… Fuck, even thinking about it now still made him feel sick.

He’s okay, he reminds himself, he’s back, he’s here, he’s in yo own damn room.

Neku, in his bedroom. Asleep in his bed. Beat remembers back when they had been partners in the Game, he usually woke up before Neku — hell if he knew why, maybe a side effect of being a former Reaper or some shit. He used to watch him sleep, for lack of anything better to do, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way he wrapped his arms tight around himself, as if for protection. Beat wonders if he still does that. If he’s doing that right now. In his bed.

He blinks, feeling his face grow hot. He runs a hand through his hair, flustered. Wait, why the hell was he thinking about this? What was he even doing? He needed to be doing something else.

Beat’s stomach gives a well-timed growl, and he practically trips over his blanket in his hurry to stand up. Breakfast. I’ll make Kitty Girl ‘n Phones breakfast. That was a much more appropriate line of thinking.

He interlaces his fingers and stretches out his arms overhead, sighing in relief as he hears a satisfying crack in the joints of his back. Maybe the floor would end up being more comfortable? Or maybe he just needed a better pillow? Whatever. He’d figure it out. Maybe he could ask Shiki or something, but she would most likely end up telling Neku, which would defeat the entire point.

It was fine. He can suck it up.

He’s dealt with worse.

Beat yawns, barely concealing it with the back of his forearm as he pads barefoot over to the bathroom in order to brush his teeth. The discomfort of the couch aside, this whole roommates thing is actually working out pretty well for him.

He’d never particularly felt the need for a roomie, let alone two. After Neku died, being around other people who didn’t know the truth was...difficult, to say the least. It wasn’t exactly that he’d shut the rest of the world out, it was just that how the hell was he even supposed to let anyone in? Aside from Shiki, Rhyme and eventually Eri, no one even knew who Neku was, or why he mattered to Beat. No way to explain why Beat started every single day at the statue of Hachiko, clearly waiting for someone who never came. Or how he’d witnessed his best friend’s murder, how he knew his friend was dead but not gone, was somewhere in between, somewhere he couldn’t follow. How fucking hard that was, sitting on a bench and wondering if Neku was there beside him, beyond his reach, what kind of twisted Game had Neku been forced into now, trying to reassure himself that with each day that passed, Neku would be a little closer to escaping it.

He was winning. He had to be.

So, no, Beat didn’t push people away. But he experimented wearing headphones around other people, much like Neku did, found people bothered him less and he actually kinda liked it better that way. Not as many weird looks or probing questions that he didn’t know how to answer, because he had to hide so much of what mattered to him most, had to keep on pretending to be the ‘same old Beat’, when that guy had died in a failed attempt to rescue his own sister.

The headphones, the mask, the hood. They all just helped make everything a little bit more manageable. To keep his focus trained on what was most important: finding Neku.

And so he’d found him — or, well, strictly speaking, Neku had found him. Saving Beat’s ass, yet again on top of everything.

Some damn hero Beat turned out to be.

He spits out the foam of his toothpaste, and considers his reflection.

Not that that matters, not really. All that matters is that Neku is safe.

Presumably, Neku is also hungry. He washes off his toothbrush, sticks it in the cup holder that’s gone from holding one brush to three — heh, ain’t that a trip — and makes his way over to the kitchen. He throws open the fridge, considering its contents. Fortunately he had actually stocked up on food in anticipation of Neku’s arrival, so he has enough extra to feed their additional guest too. Nothing too fancy — rice, miso soup and tamagoyaki is about all he has on hand, but it’s better than Beat’s usual start to the day of throwing some sausage and fried egg on top of rice.

After all Neku and Shoka have been through, hopefully it’s the thought that counts anyway.

It’s a strangely luxurious feeling, starting his day without the usual niggling anxiety that always seemed to hang on him like a weight around his neck. Even after Neku had returned to the RG, Beat still struggled with the nightmares. Reaching for his phone in the dead of night, frantic in his fear of not being able to trust what was real or not — especially not after what Coco had done, how could he ever rest easy after knowing Reapers were capable of that? — he’d lie there, trying to steady his trembling hands just enough to locate his text history with Neku, and only then could he even begin to try and calm down. There was no getting back to sleep after those kinds of night terrors either, all he could do was try relax himself by scrolling through the various text chains he was a part of: messages to Neku, Rhyme, Shiki, the Wicked Twisters group chat, anything that made it abundantly clear that this was real.

(He hates how he always finds himself scrutinizing their messages, trying to make sure they line up with the person he knows. He’s never really talked about it, but Coco did a real number on his brain. Not knowing if he was talking to his real life fucking sister, or some twisted fabrication that was being used to manipulate him to do a Reaper’s bidding… And he hates himself most of all, for even needing to wonder, when he should just be able to tell.)

He grits his teeth, forcing himself to swallow that thought back down. No. He — they — are past that now. He won’t allow himself to wallow in that resentment any longer. He can’t.

Instead, Beat pulls out his phone’s music app and sets it to play one of Def Märch’s earlier albums. It’s been a while: after the Game three years ago, he hadn’t been able to listen to them without his mind’s eye seeing 777’s choker lying abandoned in the street, like an accusation of their failings. Without even realising he’s doing it, he finds himself looking at Neku’s coat hanging on the rack yet again. Still there. Still here.

No more stupid Games.

He hopes.

Beat hears the creak of a door hinge — his door, he recognises— and glances up from where he’s pulling the seasonings for the tamagoyaki out of the cupboard. Neku emerges from his room, one eye still sleepily screwed shut as he pulls at a strand of hair.

And, fuck, there’s that tugging somewhere beneath Beat’s chest, right where it has no place to be. It’s too hard to suppress, what with the way Neku peers blearily around the room before landing his eyes on Beat, bashfully pushing his hair out of his eyes and giving him a small wave.

Beat would never relive those days, not in a million years. It was one of the most traumatic experiences of his short life. But he’d be a liar if he said there were parts of it that he didn’t miss. Moments like when Neku would shiver in his sleep, roll over, and nestle closer into Beat. How his fingertips had lightly curled against Beat’s shirt, as if unconsciously trying to hold onto him for warmth.

Watching Neku now, hair a mess and standing there still wearing the hoodie Beat had given him when he’d gotten cold the night before…

Yeah. Beat is forced to concede that maybe he misses some things.

“Mornin’!” Beat announces, a little too loudly. “I got breakfast all sorted, so you just relax, ai’ght?”

Neku blinks.

“You made breakfast? You make breakfast now? I thought you just inhaled burgers without even chewing.”

Beat throws a handful of rice at him.

“Shut it, yo! I’m like, a ‘sponsible adult now.”

“Yeah, real responsible,” Neku laughs, making his way over to the breakfast bar. “Setting a great example for your new teenage roommate, flinging food around the place. Speaking of,” He leans his elbows on the counter, peering over to see what Beat is making. “Is she awake?”

“Don’t think so.” Beat cracks an egg into a mixing bowl. “Figured I’d knock on her door when food is ready, let her get a lil’ extra rest, yanno. How’d’ju sleep?”

“Like a log. What about you? How was the couch?”

Beat tries to put on the most neutral expression he can muster, purposely keeping his eyes trained down on the bowl of eggs that he’s seasoning and not on Neku.

“Couch is fine, yo, jus’ like I told you!” His back gives a sudden twinge, causing his face to spasm. His body is a goddamn traitor. “Jus’ as good as the bed!”

“Beat.” He may not be looking at Neku, but he can just tell he’s giving him a stern look judging by the sound of his voice. “Don’t make me use your full name.”

“Dude! I’m tellin’ ya, it’s fine. Don’t sweat it!” He waves his hand in his direction. “There’s some miso soup in the fridge needs reheatin’. You mind puttin’ it on the stove? Saucepan’s in the bottom shelf.”

Neku huffs at him, clearly not convinced, but he pushes himself off the countertop and heads to the fridge all the same. Whew. He’s sure that’s not the last he’ll hear of the issue, but it’ll do for now. He only just got Neku back, he’d rather not spend their time bickering over their sleeping arrangements.

He wants to ask what it was like in Shinjuku. When you played the Game, unconsciousness just came upon you at the Game Master’s whim. You simply faded away. He’d never gotten around to asking about that during his brief stint as a Reaper. He’d been too caught up staring at the impossibly tiny pin that Mr. H had promised him contained his sister’s Soul. But Shinjuku… Neku hadn’t been playing the Game. He’d been trapped in a city that had been written out of existence, erased entirely, and what the hell did that even look like? How had Neku slept? Eat? How had he remained sane, when even thinking about the very concept gave Beat a damn headache?

He’s interrupted from his musings by a hand gently brushing against the small of his back.

“Hey,” Neku’s hand settles there, tentatively, as he steps up beside Beat and tries to meet his eyes. “Are you okay? You’re glaring at those eggs like they tried to chat up Rhyme.”

Neku’s tone is playful, but the concern is plainly there. It makes Beat’s chest tighten, his jaw clench, anger bubbling up in his throat towards his own stupidity. It shouldn’t be Neku worrying about him. Neku had been through so much, Beat should have his shit together enough by now to not add to his worries.

It’s not about Beat.

“All good, Phones!” He plasters a smile to his face, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels. He’s had enough practice around Rhyme and Shiki that maybe he can even fool Neku. “Just wonderin’ if we should even bother wakin’ up Kitty Girl. Might be better lettin’ her sleep through breakfast, yeah?”

“I can hear you bozos, you know.”

Both Beat and Neku leap apart at the sudden interruption. Shoka is leaning against the door frame to her room, arms folded with her head tilted to the side. Damn. She was definitely far too good at sneaking up on people: probably a leftover trait from being a Reaper, or some shit.

“Morning, Shokie!” Beat greets her brightly, immediately snapping back into his usual level of enthusiasm. He has no idea why his heart is hammering so hard in his chest. “Jus’ makin’ breakfast. S’nothing fancy, but yanno... “ He trails off, leaving the rest unspoken. Better than having to scavenge for leftovers from unaware Jupes’ employees.

Shoka’s smirk slips for the briefest of moments, but just barely. She recovers quickly, flipping her thick black hair over one shoulder.

“Whatever. I’ll just leave a negative review if you give me food poisoning.”

“Y’all can do that?!”

Shoka doesn’t answer him, simply gives him a withering look before casting her eyes around the apartment. She raises her eyebrows at the sight of the duvet and pillows still unmade and spread out over the couch.

“Lover’s tiff?”

“Wuzzat?” Beat frowns, pausing in his act of pouring egg mix across the bottom of the pan. Was Shoka okay? She really wasn’t talking much sense this morning.

“Actually, never mind! I like, so do not wanna know.”

He throws a confused look at Neku, who looks equally baffled.

Huh. Teenagers.

“Annnnyway. So like, Shiki texted and, uhm…” Shoka rubs her neck, ducking her head in embarrassment. Beat notices how she instinctively reaches for where the hood of her trademark Mr Mew hoodie would be, but ends up grasping at air in its absence, so quickly tucks her hand behind her back instead. Heh. Teenagers. “She said, like… Her and Eri were gonna come by this morning, and, uhm, if I wanted, I could go to Gatto Nero with you and Eri?” Oh, right. Beat had work today. The last twenty-four hours had been such a damn trip, that he’d pretty much forgotten. “Just to see what it was like, or whatever… And Shiki said she wanted to catch up with you, Neku.”

“Oh, yeah,” Neku startles, pulling out his phone and quickly tapping in the passcode. “She says she wants to update my wardrobe...whatever that means.”

Beat groans, rolling the omelette in its pan.

“Good luck, man. She got me with that once, had me here for damn hours. Felt like a goddamn dress-up doll.”

Neku laughs, and Beat can’t help but chuckle along with him.

“Bet you made a cute personal Ken doll for her, though.”

All the blood rushes to Beat’s face in a heartbeat, nearly turning his carefully crafted omelette into scramble in his surprise. Damn, did he really have to say things like that in front of Shoka?

“Don’t call me out like that, Phones!”

“Ew. I’m gonna go take a shower. Call me when the food is ready.”

Shoka gives a dismissive flick of her fingers, then saunters off towards the bathroom. Neku presses the back of his wrist to his lips as he stirs the soup on the stove, but his smile is visible all the same. Beat nudges him.

“Whatchu grinnin’ ‘bout?”

Neku lets his hand drop away and man, Beat could get used to this. Neku had a mouth made for smiling. It feels like a crime that they used to be so rare.

“Nothing, really. Just… I forgot how much I missed being alive.”

And damn, if that doesn’t make Beat want to drop what they’re doing and just wrap him in his arms here and now. Ask him to let it all out, tell him what he went through, remind him again and again and again, that it’s over now, for good.

But it’s not about Beat. And that’s not what Neku needs right now: it’s clear what Neku needs is more normalcy.

So instead, Beat just bumps him with his hip and flashes him a grin.

“Got plenty more livin’ to catch up on, yo. So les’ make it count.”

Beat has a lot of memories that feel like they’re seared onto the surface of his brain, what with how many times he finds himself replaying them in his head. Rhyme running across that street, too worried about her brother to notice the headlights coming her way. Rhyme, again, holding his gaze in shock as the teeth of the Noise ripped into her and tore her life away. The sound of the gun ringing in his ears as the bullet ripped through Neku’s chest, and he fell to his knees right before Beat.

There’s something in the way Neku smiles at him then, that eclipses them all.

“Gooood morning!” Shiki announces in a sing-song voice, bouncing into the apartment with the kind of energy only Shiki could muster at 8:30 in the morning. Eri trails in her wake, sipping a coffee from Hachiko Café. Evidently Eri was not quite as much a morning person as her partner.

“‘Sup, Shiki?” Beat greets her with a high-five, which she has to give a little hop in order to reach. It gives Neku that feeling again, the one he can’t quite put a name to, but that fills him with such a surge of gratitude that he’s made it back to the RG — to them — that it threatens to overwhelm him. “You good?”

“Yes!” She claps her hands together, practically spinning on the sole of her foot. She throws a look at Neku, and beams. “I can’t wait to catch up with Neku!”

“Oh yeah? ‘N that big bag of material, ‘n your sewing equipment, that all just part of the catch-up process?”

“Oh, shut up!” Shiki flushes and swats at Beat fondly. It’s clear this teasing has become something of a routine between them. There’s a small pang of envy that resonates in some darker part of Neku, but he smothers it down with the reminder that it was just like Beat had said earlier: they had plenty of more memories to make ahead of them. Neither Shiki or Beat were the kind of people to leave Neku behind in their wake.

“Are you ready, Shoka?” Eri asks, looking over Beat’s shoulder to where their other roommate was hovering uncertainly. Shoka was wearing one of the new outfits Shiki and Eri had picked out for her: a dark, long-sleeved black polo neck and tartan kilt, with black suspenders that had Mr. Mew fastenings to pull the entire look together. And, of course, her Mr. Mew hoodie — Neku had caught her hesitating over it earlier, clearly weighing up the decision of whether to wear it or not. She had just begun to turn and leave it, when she swivelled suddenly on her heel and snatched up the hoodie, hugging it tight to her chest. It was then that she’d caught Neku watching her, but he’d beat a hasty retreat into the bedroom before she could lash out at him.

Shoka tugs the sleeves of her hoodie, self-consciously adjusting herself.

“Yeah. I’m good.” She takes a deep breath. “I...thanks, again. I, uhm… I just think Gatto Nero is pretty cool. So this is pretty cool of you. To help. Uhm…”

She swallows thickly, visibly struggling with the effort it takes to not start pulling at the hoodie’s ears again. Neku is just about to speak, when Beat moves in.

“Is’ all good, Shokie! You finna love working with me!” He slings one arm over her shoulder, and thumps his own chest with the fist of his other for good measure. Eri flashes him a tired look.

“You, Daisu—”

“Not funny, yo!”

“— Beat — you are staying out on the floor with Miki for once. You can’t keep running away from her!”

Miki? Neku tries to remember the name, but quite frankly, he’s met such an influx of new people — both real and fictional ones Joshua concocted for his ‘cover story’ — that it’s a struggle to really differentiate most of them, unless he’s met them multiple times. He definitely doesn’t think he remembers Beat ever mentioning trying to hide from anyone named Miki, at the very least.

Whoever Miki is, she’s got Beat glaring at Eri, as well as turning him a very vibrant shade of crimson.

“I ain’t — ahh, wha’ever, I ain’t doin’ this here. C’mon, Shokie.”

Shoka looks equally confused about whatever just transpired, and when Neku looks at Shiki, she just shrugs — albeit, with a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

He’s nearly knocked off his feet when Beat lands a hearty smack on his back, but he’s saved when the other man manages to somehow almost immediately catch him by the shoulder. As if he’d been anticipating Neku would stumble. Which he probably had.

“Catcha’ latah’, Phones.” He gives his shoulder a final squeeze, before departing along with Shoka and Eri, one of his skateboards tucked under his arm.

Neku and Shiki bid their farewells — Shiki not letting Eri leave without grabbing her wrist and planting a kiss on her cheek — then Eri wouldn’t leave until she’d turned Shiki around so she could kiss her on the lips, which was about the point Neku figured it would be better he made himself useful tidying up the kitchen.

He’s glad they’re all so happy. There’s a lot his brain still has to catch up with, but seeing them altogether like that… He’s thankful, truly, that they have one another.

It doesn’t stop the ugly feeling of jealousy, unfortunately. He desperately wishes it did, but when he watches Beat and Eri banter with one another like they’ve known each other for years — which, shit, they have — it’s like a jab at an open wound, just another reminder of how much life has carried on without him. Which, of course it would, right? He could never resent them that. He doesn’t. It’s just…

He can’t help wondering what it would have been like if he’d been here instead.

What they would be like. Would he be close with Eri too? Would he have ended up working at Gatto Nero along with Beat?

He finds himself thinking again about the night before, the way Beat had looked at him as he said his name. What had been going to say?

“Helllooooo?”

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by Shiki waving her hand in front of his face, only realising as she does, that he’s been staring at the sink since everyone left, lost in thought. When he jerks himself around to face her, she has her fist bunched up in order to hide her smile. Yeah — there was no mistaking Shiki for Eri, no matter what body Neku had met her in.

“Sorry.” Neku rakes his hair out of his face. “Just...thinking. You want something to drink? I think the tea is still hot, if you’d like any.”

“Oh, tea would be great! Thank you!” Shiki grins, pulling at the ends of hair. “Seems like you’re really settling in, huh?”

Neku isn’t sure if Shiki means settling into the RG, or into the apartment, but it has him somewhat flustered all the same. He hustles behind the breakfast bar to fetch two mugs, and pour them both a fresh mug of green tea. Shiki is clearly in a good mood, judging by her contented humming as Neku slides her cup and saucer over towards her.

“So,” he begins, not entirely sure what else to add in order to preface the enormity of the conversation that hangs between them.

“So!” Shiki echoes, reaching over and squeezing his wrist reassuringly. She sips her tea, sets it down, releases her grip and leans back. “Neku… Are you… I mean, was… I just — Neku, how are you?”

And there it is, the question he knows has been coming but all the mental anticipation doesn’t make its arrival any easier. There were only a handful of people who could ever ask him that, thanks to Joshua’s manipulations — and it’s always been the idea of answering them that’s hurt the most.

At least with Shiki, there’s things she doesn’t know. Like Coco, or Miniamoto, or even the depths of what had happened to the Shinjuku Reapers. One day he’ll tell her.

But not today. They’ve enough history to cover as it is.

“I’m… I’m actually a lot better, thank you.” He smiles at her over the rim of his mug. “Kinda crazy how things have worked out — living with Beat and Shoka, and all that, but… It helps. A lot. Keeps my mind off stuff, and besides… I don’t have to pretend.” He rubs the edge of the cup’s porcelain, gnawing his lip. “That was...tough, with my parents. Trying to play the role Joshua gave me in this new life, without any actual…experience, I suppose. Being here, around Beat — and Shoka — well, there’s no more having to make it up as I go along, you know?”

Shiki smiles, but Neku doesn’t fail to notice that there’s something troubled in her gaze.

“I’m so glad, Neku! It’s good you’re here. With people you trust. And can talk to. Honestly.” She fiddles with her glasses, gnawing her lower lip. “I didn’t... I really… Telling people about what happened, it just sounds so crazy, right?” A low titter escapes her lips. “Like, all of it! Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t had Beat and Rhyme backing me up, would Eri have believed me at all!”

Her hand drops from her glasses to her earlobe, tugging it lightly and chewing absently on her lower lip.

“But… I couldn’t hide that part of myself, especially after what they did to me. What with my entry fee and all. Eri deserved to know… And… Oh, I’m talking all about myself! I want to know how you are, Neku.”

“I like hearing about you.”

“Okay, so, I have a girlfriend, I love her very much, we started our own fashion line together, and now it’s one of the most successful brands in Shibuya! Now it’s your turn.”

She sticks her tongue out, as if already anticipating his reply.

“And no, ‘just wandering around Shinjuku’ is not a valid response! I want to know…” She trails off, looking down into her tea. “...I want to know how you are, Neku. I — we’ve been so worried.”

And here’s the part that Neku wishes he could skip entirely.

Because what can he tell them? That he’d spent three years — three years — in nothing, nothing, that the only company he had was the lost Souls of the city refusing to accept their death, Coco, and occasionally, disjointed projections from what was left of Tsugumi. When all you had to do was survive, it eventually grew simple to becoming accustomed to the hellishness of it all. Huddling beneath whatever shelter he could find, watching the rippling distortion of the sky, all he could do was survive. As difficult as that was

But Neku’s not quite ready to share that, not just yet. Especially not with his friends from the RG, who, no matter how much detail he could provide, would never understand what it had been like.

“I’m good, Shiki,” Neku finally answers her. She looks skeptical, and so he continues. “I meant it, being here, it really helps. Beat… He just gets it, you know?”

Shiki looks so suddenly troubled, her gaze finding her palms, that Neku can’t help but presume he had done something wrong.

“I mean — I — Shiki, it’s not like I think you don’t get it! It’s just — that final week, and stuff, we —”

Shiki sighs, wrapping her hand around her mug.

“It’s not that, silly. It’s… Well, it’s Beat.”

Neku frowns, cocking his head to the side.

“What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

Shiki bites her lip.

“It’s just... Neku, I was really worried about him. Like, really worried, It was…”

Her shoulders slump.

“I’m really glad you’re here with him. We’ve all been really concerned about him. Neku, you’ve got to believe, we never stopped looking for you, but Beat… He just. I don’t know how to explain it. It became everything to him...” Shiki takes another sip of tea, her eyes still fixed on the counter. “We were all always trying to find you, but Beat would...it was like a mission for him. We’d start each day at Hachiko, trying to see if we could catch a glimpse of you, but… Well, you know. I would head on to school, but Beat wouldn’t. He’d stay there, I don’t know how long, then he’d skate off around the streets. He ended up getting held back a year, you know. Failing grades. That’s around when he ended up moving out of his parents’ place.”

Shiki drums her fingers off the counter.

“Then Gatto Nero started to take off, and — I still met him at Hachiko, every day! Always! But… I knew you wouldn't want me to abandon my dreams for you.”

She looks absurdly guilty. Neku can’t help himself, reaches over to squeeze her arm.

“I never would. I’m so proud of you, Shiki.”

Shiki shoots him a grateful look, and it’s a shock to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, rubbing the heel of her wrist against her cheek. “I felt so bad, but… After all we went through, what we fought for — you would have been so mad if I threw it all away!” She gives a small giggle, but the smile slips away from her expression all-too-quickly.

“Beat, though… I don’t think anything else felt like it mattered to him. Well, besides the obvious stuff, like Rhyme and that. He even started to — God, he’d kill me if he heard me say this, but — he started to do what you did, Neku, close yourself off from the world. At first, it was hard to notice, because it’s Beat, right? Everyone loves him! And everyone still loves him, but they just — no one understood. Especially when… No one even knew you existed, Neku.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Neku’s throat feels tight.

“And Beat… He just became… It’s not like he changed, at least not in a bad way, nothing like that. Most people didn’t even really notice, not really, it was...subtle. But we could see it. You know what he’s like, it’s not like him to not just tell us how he’s feeling. Rhyme and I, even Eri, we’d try and ask him about it, but he’d just laugh us off. But we knew.”

Shiki drains the last of her tea and stares down at the remaining leaves that coat the bottom of the cup.

“He just… I don’t think he knew how to move on.”

Her voice drops to barely a whisper.

“He watched you die, Neku.”

It hangs between them, this silence. Neku’s clenches and unclenches his fists, seeking any sort of method to rid himself of this tension building up inside of him. He hates feeling this helpless. Anger was something that he’d learned to let go of during his time in Shinjuku — there was no point holding onto frustrations or resentment when the only way out was through — but there’s a fleeting flash of fury at Joshua for just letting this all happen.

No doubt Joshua would find this all very amusing. Beat’s suffering had probably counted as entertainment for him. He can practically hear him smugly remarking about human connections were just a way to practically guarantee pain. So why even bother?

Because of them.

Because of the infinite capacity of love that Shiki had for other people. Because of the way Rhyme refused to give up on her brother.

Because of, well…

Because of Beat.

Neku reaches across the counter, settles his hand over Shiki’s. When she lifts her head, he can see her eyes are full of tears. He doesn’t quite know what to say.

“Neku… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel bad, or guilty, or anything! I know you couldn’t control it. I know it was so awful for you. But… I just…there’s no one I can really talk about it with, you know?” She sniffs. “I would never want to worry Rhyme more than she already does, and Eri understands obviously, but there’s only so much you can understand without…well, without having been there. You’re the only one. And I just… I just worry.”

“Well,” Neku begins, “you’ve always been good at that.”

Shiki gives a little giggle at that, so Neku presses onwards.

“It’s one of the many things you’re very good at. Even worrying about stuff like loose buttons.”

Shiki rears back, looking indignant.

“That’s important!” She huffs, smacking his arm lightly. “You make fun, but what if some day your pants just fall off, in public, because you didn’t let me fix your clothes!”

It’s such a ridiculous scenario that Neku can’t help but burst out laughing. That sets off Shiki, too, and she’s soon clutching his shoulder with one arm as she giggles, holding her side with the other.

“Oh, Neku,” she manages, eventually regaining her composure. “I’ve really missed you.”

Neku smiles.

“Missed you too, Shiki. And...thank you.”

She looks puzzled.

“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, you were here, and that’s enough in and of itself. But also…” Neku toys with his own mug. “...Letting me know about Beat. I kinda thought something was up, but he’s… He’s very good at hiding it.”

Shiki gives him a sympathetic look, squeezing his arm a final time before releasing it.

“Not as good as he thinks, though. Maybe now that you’re back… Well, it’ll take a little time. But… Just talk to him, Neku, okay? Promise me that. Don’t let him shut you out.”

There’s that squeeze in his chest again, the one that leaves him a little short of breath. He’s not sure what to make of it.

“I promise.”

Shiki flashes him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Neku. Again.”

“Anytime. I owe you enough as it is.” He pushes his hair away from his face, and takes a sip of tea. Which is decidedly lukewarm. Yuck.

“Hey, so… Who is Miki? Eri made it sound like her and Beat are mad at one another.”

Shiki purses her lips, doing a very poor job of biting back her smile.

“Miki is the floor manager at our store. She and Beat have… Let’s just say, history.”

History? Had they dated? Neku resists the urge to pull at the collar of his shirt. He’s no idea why the concept bothers him — he didn’t even know this girl.

“Oh, so they were...seeing one another?”

Shiki straight up snickers at that.

“Oh, Miki wishes! What I told you about Beat being so invested in finding you… Well — let’s just say he unintentionally broke a lot of hearts along the way. A lot of people were really interested in him.”

Neku’s chest is tightening again, for an entirely different reason, even if he doesn’t know what that reason is. Of course Beat would have people into him. That was just a natural part of life’s passage, he had to remember that. Just because he had been dead for the last three years… Obviously other people would take notice of his friends.

He just doesn’t know why he’s getting particularly envious about people taking notice of Beat.

“But he was so… Well, like I just told you. He wasn’t really interested in anything other than — well. It was kinda funny, to be honest, watching him just not get the hint. Eventually Miki got so frustrated that she ended up just grabbing him one night when we were out, and kissing him square on the lips.”

Shiki covers her mouth in a poor attempt to smother her laugh.

“Poor Miki. Beat was so confused that he asked her if she needed to go see a doctor or something.”

Oh. Neku doesn’t really know what to make of the relief he feels at that.

“And they still work together?”

“Oh, God, yeah. It’s a nightmare. Miki wants him to apologise, and Beat is...well, he’s Beat.”

Neku casts his memory back to the few stints that he’d ventured into Gatto Nero. In all honesty, he’d been so impressed that the clothes had been made by Eri and Shiki, that he doesn’t even really remember the shopkeeper. He just about recalls a girl with long black hair who, yeah, was quite attractive and —

Wait. What was the point of this train of thought? What did it matter whether or not some person who was into Beat was attractive or not?

Damnit. His face is turning red again. He hopes in vain that Shiki won’t notice.

Shiki leans forward, tilting her head inquisitively at him. Rather than press him on the subject, she reaches for her Mr. Mew pouch.

“Now… About that wardrobe of yours’...”

Neku recalls Beat’s warning from earlier that day, and grimaces.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Beat wonders if anyone’s actually ever died from a death glare before.

If they haven’t, Miki is doing a pretty good job of making sure he’s the first victim to suffer that particular fate.

He tries his best to ignore it as he sorts through a dress rail of sweatshirts, rearranging them in order of size. He doesn’t know what the hell she’s so pissed about: he’d had no idea she was even into him, it wasn’t like she’d ever give him any sign or whatever.

Beat pauses. Or had she? Sure they spent a lot of time with one another, but that was just ‘cause they worked together. They usually worked the same shift too, but that was just a coincidence. Yeah, sometimes Miki would come in even when she wasn’t working, or she’d offer to cover for Shiki and Eri when he was scheduled, but that was just her being a good friend to the girls. Right?

Ahhh, hell. He hates this shit. Why can’t things just be simple like they are with Neku and the rest of the gang?

He glances over, and Miki pointedly meets his eye, screwing up her face in disgust before looking away. Beat sighs. This was exhausting.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Beat immediately snatches it, grateful for the distraction.

FRET [12:17 PM]
hey beat buddy!

Huh, that was funny. Fret was texting him directly, rather than the Twisters group chat. He’d never done that before.

BEAT
sup dude?
u good?

FRET
great!
how’s shokie doing?

Ah, that was it. Fret was just checking up on her.

BEAT
all good
@ gatta nero w me n eri
her n eri goin over designs or some shit

“You’re not supposed to be on your phone when we’re on the clock, you know,” Miki snaps.

“I’ll just be a minute, yo.”

FRET
awesome!!!!!🙏
hey beat could we go grab a burger?
i’m near and there was some stuff i wanted to ask u about

Beat blinks in surprise. That was also new. He wasn’t the kind of person people typically sought out for advice, that was more Nagi’s whole thing: she was real good with emotions and all that stuff. But he’s not the type to ever turn down a friend in need, so he looks over his shoulder at Miki.

“Yo, you good if I go grab lunch? I’ll bring you back somethin’, if you like.”

Miki narrows her eyes at him, suspiciously.

“…where are you going?”

“Just Justice Burger. I’ll only be like, an hour.”

Miki seems to consider this over folded arms, before eventually conceding.

“…Fine. Just a Justice Juice. I’m meeting Rintaro after work for ramen.”

Ah, right, Rintaro from Monocrow. He’d been in Beat’s year at school before he’d gotten held back. Kind of a douche if you asked Beat, but no one was, so. He’s no idea why Miki is putting such emphasis on telling him this fact, but he’s grateful for the reprieve from the icy tone she had taken to using around him ever since that night she tried to kiss him.

“Sick. Thanks, Miki! I’ll be back ‘fore ya know it.”

She rolls her eyes, and Beat makes a hasty retreat before she can sneak in one last parting jab.

Pushing his way out of the store, he heaves a long sigh, raking his blonde hair out of his eyes. He sincerely hopes that Miki lets up with the frosty treatment soon, especially since he doesn’t even really know what the hell he did wrong.

Whatever. Burgers. Fret. Life advice. Yeah.

That much he can handle.

Fret’s already waiting for him when Beat hops off his board outside Justice Burger and smoothly flips it up and under his arm. He can see the younger boy through the wide windows, seated at a table near the back and fidgeting with the wrapper of his untouched burger. He looks uncharacteristically withdrawn, eyes downcast and like he isn’t even registering the busy hustle and bustle of lunch hour unfolding around him.

Oh, hell no. Beat feels his overprotective big brother gears churning to life, immediately pushing his way through the door and making a beeline for the troubled-looking teenager.

Ain’t no Twister getting down on his watch.

“Yo! Fret!” He greets him with an enthusiastic clap on the back and a wide grin. Fret visibly jumps, but the look of relief that washes over his expression has Beat ready to go and kick the crap out of whatever is bothering him. “You good, bro?”

“Beat, buddy! So good!”

Uh huh. Beat recognises a lil’ kid masking their true emotions when he sees it.

He’s seen himself in the mirror enough times.

“Thanks for coming! I was just, uh, in the area and remembered you work in Unofour, so thought maybe —“

“Hey, donchu’ worry! Like I’d turn down a Justice burger.” He pats him on the shoulder, and settles his skateboard across the seat facing Fret. “‘Sides, when was last time we got to hang out together, just bro time, yeah?”

Fret’s face brightens visibly, grinning up at Beat.

“So long! Don’t get me wrong, I love our Twister reunions, but you know… There’s just some stuff that, uhm.” He breaks eye contact then, picking at the wrapping of his burger. “Well…I just thought you’d some experience in, you know? Having survived that Game three years ago, and then, you know… What it’s like. Coming back.”

Yup. It was definitely time for Big Brother Mode.

Beat flashes him a reassuring smile.

“Of course! That stuff trips with yo’ head, yo, ain’t no way ‘round it. Lemme just grab some chow — you want anything?”

Fret shakes his head, returning his gaze back down to his still as-of-yet-untouched meal — albeit looking markedly less on edge now.

Beat orders up a cheeseburger and fries — opting to leave Miki’s Justice Juice until after he’s finished eating, to spare himself getting chewed out over her drink having melted to slush — and returns to his friend.

“So,” he asks, already tearing open the wrapping of his burger, “what didja’ wanna talk about?”

Fret gnaws his lower lip, clearly at a loss for how to begin this conversation. Beat steps up immediately.

“You said it was about gettin’ settled back here, right? ‘Cuz man, believe me, I don’t blame ya for strugglin’ if ya are. That was my second time round ‘n it still messes with me. All these people…” He gestures around them at the crowded restaurant. “An’ they don’t have a clue! No idea what comes after this, not to mention…” He plucks a fry from its carton, chewing on it with a frown. “Whole damn city nearly been destroyed twice, now, in jus’ three years. Shit’s whack, yo. Don’t sit right with me, them just…not knowin’. ‘S a lot to wrap your head ‘round and I was never much for thinkin’ anyway.”

Fret looks up at him, gratefully.

“That is it!” he blurts out eagerly, leaning forward a little as his fingers wrap around the edge of the table. “They don’t know! People died — like, actually died trying to protect this city and they’ve no idea it even happened! Their families…friends…they don’t know that the people they loved gave their lives to save all of Shibuya.” He swallows, thickly, hunching over and in on himself. “I know it’s kind of dumb, or whatever, it’s not like their sacrifice was in vain, we…saved Shibuya… But it just feels like…”

He trails off, his gaze drifting unfocused somewhere off over Beat’s shoulder. Yeah, another look Beat knew all too well. It’s the one he’d worn the past three years as he tried to make sense of a world where all but a handful of people knew Neku had even existed. How no one had known Neku was out there, somewhere, no doubt trying to save them from some unknown horror, and he had to just pretend to carry on like that wasn’t weighing on him all the damn time.

“…I went to visit Kanon’s grave.”

And with that, everything clicks into place. Beat allows that to sink in, quietly, leaning back in his seat. Fret continues to stare off into the distance — Beat has the distinct impression that he’s watching the faces of the nameless people filtering in and out of the diner, cheerily going on about their day.

“…Some people were there, I think one was her mom? Then maybe a sister and some friends. I dunno. I didn’t get too close, it would have been…weird, a kid like me just lurking about. I just kept my distance and watched.” Fret had begun to absently tear apart some chunks of his burger bun, rolling the dough between his fingers. “There were, like…so many flowers. Cards. Photographs. Tributes. So many people loved her, dude, I didn’t even really know her. But they’ll never know…”

Fret looks back down at his burger, as if surprised to find it’s still there.

“…they’ll never know what she did for this city. Or how long she kept fighting to get back to them. To get everyone back… It’s just so messed up. I dunno why it gets me so much, I just really…really admired her, y'know? She taught me a lot. About myself. The way I just don’t deal with emotions, I just kind of… Push it back down. So I don’t get hurt again.” He sighs, folding his arms over the table and dropping his head forward. “I just wish...wish that those other people who cared about her could know that too, all the people she saved. That she saved them. But everyone will just go on living, and they’ll never know, and…”

Fret drops his head into his hands, drags his fingers through his hair.

“...None of it feels fair. That she should… That I —”

“Yo, Fret.” Beat’s voice sounds solemn even to his own ears. “You wanna take this to go? Head over to Hachikō, yeah? It’s kinda crowded in here, might be worth…” He offers his most kindly, brotherly smile. “Well, me ‘n Shiki used to go there to talk about Phones. Bit more privacy, yanno?”

Fret gives a slow nod, still looking a tad out of it. It’s hard to watch, given how Fret’s usual peppiness and optimism had always seemed like such a constant during those two weeks together. But Beat should know better than anyone that very often, wearing a mask was easier than dealing with the real thing.

Beat leads him out of Justice, lightly guiding him over in the direction of Hachikō. It had been over a month, but he’s noticed several of his friends still struggle with not bumping into passer-bys after becoming so accustomed to simply passing through them: particularly Shoka and Neku.

He steers Fret onto one of the benches around the statue, settling his board between his legs and the bag of food between them. He could sympathise with these kinds of topics killing off your appetite, but Beat would be damned if he was gonna let Fret skip out on lunch.

It’s been a while since he’s been here, he realises, perching his chin on his board and considering the statue. How much time had he spent here, scanning the crowd for a mop of spikey ginger hair? Cursing Neku’s shortness, standing on the bench itself to get a better vantage point, before setting off into the city itself to hunt for him?

Almost ten years, Hachikō had waited. Never giving up, not until he’d breathed his last.

Beat had been determined to do the same.

“Y’know,” Beat eventually says, keeping his eyes trained on Hachikō. “We all had a pact, the four’a us. Me, Shiki, Rhyme ‘n then...Phones. That no matter what, if we ever got separated again — be it the Game or some other shit — we’d find one another right here. At Hachikō. I came here every single damn day for three years, hopin’... And no one other than Shiki and Rhyme knew what the hell I was doin’.” His jaw tightens involuntarily at the memory, recalling his folks bitching, his other friends nagging, everyone poking and prodding him trying to figure out what was wrong, why was he missing school, shutting people down when —

“And the fucked up thing was… Other than us, no one in the RG even knew Phones existed.” His eyelids flutter shut for the barest of moments, taking a steady breath before continuing. “No one knew he was gone, and I was sure — that wherever he was, he musta been tryna’ save the city again. Rhyme and Shiki weren’t there when Coco took me ‘n him, but…” He grips his board a little bit tighter. He hates talking about this period of his life, but at least Fret had been present for more of the complicated details. Like Coco. And, if he was to be honest with himself — like Neku.

“So I getchu’, dude. I really, really do. I ain’t never been great at advice or any of that feelings shit… But I do get it. An’... I wish I had the right advice for ya, yanno? But I dunno if I even did the right thing myself. All I can say, is… Jus’ keep puttin’ one foot in front of the other. Don’t stop believin’ in the person who inspired you to do better, yo… An’ if you can’t believe in yourself…”

He glances over at his old friend, Hachikō, staring straight ahead with as much resolution as ever. He’d once felt stupid summoning inspiration from a dog that had died almost a century ago. But now…

He thinks of Neku reaching for his hand, having just saved his life from the blow that would have surely ended him. Thinks how after all those years, Neku had arrived in that precise second to save Beat, right where Beat had watched him die.

Maybe that old adage of petting Hachikō for luck rang true.

Wherever they are, Beat hopes Hachikō and his owner are together too. Even if their atoms are scattered across the universe. It gives him some comfort to think that they are at least together, in some shape or form.

“...Jus’ believe in them, yeah? I know Kanon ain’t comin’ back, but… Her Soul is parta’ what makes up Shibuya now, right? And, ‘asides…” Beat turns his head to look at Fret, cracking a smile. “She gave you a legacy now, man! ‘Sup to you to uphold it.”

He reaches over to tousle the younger kid’s hair.

“And I know y’will! Ya already doing her proud, bein’ out here and talkin’ about this stuff, ‘n all that shit.” His smile turns gentle. “Seriously, dude… Kanon would be proud. You should be proud. Of y’self!”

Fret is leaning back into the bench, one hand pressed over his mouth in order to mask his expression, the other tucked between his lap. He seems to be considering Beat’s words, and when he looks up, Beat is taken aback by the quiver of his lip.

“T-thanks,” Fret chokes out, immediately clasping his hand back over his face when his voice breaks. “That — that really — thanks, Beat.”

Beat reaches around his shoulders to give him a loose one-armed side-hug.

“Is all good, pal! I’m glad ya called! It’s good you’re reachin’ out, ya know?” He release his hold, only to rub his own chin thoughtfully. “I was majorly screwed up after wha’ happened with — yanno, the whole first Game. Wasn’t no good at talkin’ ‘bout it either. So I’m real happy you gave me a call!”

“Yeah, about that…” Fret scratches the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “I’m, uhm, I’m sorry too ‘cause, like...it’s nowhere near the same thing you went through, so I — I just don’t really wanna seem like I’m comparing the situations, you know?”

Beat furrows his brow in confusion.

“Whatchu mean?”

“I just mean like — well! I don’t mean to, like, undermine what you went through, especially because…” Fret drags his hand over his face, and offers Beat a profoundly apologetic look.

“Well...since you and Neku are together, yeah?”

Blink.

And then again.

Blink.

Fret is still talking, gesticulating as he does, but all Beat can hear is a thin buzzing in his ears as he feels his face turn increasingly crimson.

What does he — together?! Like together?! No way do people think that, no way — right?!

“Fret,” he interrupts, with as much composure as he can muster, “what — whatchu mean Ne — Phones — and I are — we’re — together?!”

Now it’s Fret’s turn to look confused, cocking his head to one side as he regards Beat.

“I mean...like, you and Neku? You’re? Uh?…dating?”

Beat’s eyes widen so much that he feels like they might pop out of his head.

“We — me ‘n Phones` — wh — what?!”

Clearly Beat is leaning in a tad too intensely, his voice raised more than an octave or two higher than necessary, judging by the way Fret is suddenly scrambling back across the bench from him. Oh, God. He tries to jerk backwards to give Fret some space, but all he does is awkwardly fall back against the seatrest with his skateboard clutched close to his chest, staring at him aghast.

Fret, for his part, looks equally horrified, albeit more like it was out of fear that Beat was going to start smacking him furiously with his board.

“Dude, are you not?! Really? I mean —! It’s, like, totally none of my business, uhm, I just thought since you were — you know what, never mind!” Fret waves his arms desperately in front of him. “I’m sorry, dude! You guys just...I dunno, I guess you just kinda have a vibe, yanno?”

Beat absolutely does not know. He’s about to say as much, his mouth falling open and closed several times before realising there’s no words that he can find.

“So, ermmmm,” Fret begins, leaping to his feet and grabbing his previously abandoned bag of food. “I said I’d meet Rindude soon, so I should scoot… Thanks so much for the talk, Beat! You’re really the Best of the Beats!”

Beat blinks himself back to existence, just enough to squint at his friend.

“Yo’ sho’ yo’ okay?”

“Loads better!” Fret announces, driving his hands into his hips, mealbag in hand. “Rindude and I gonna go and, uh —study — yeah, study! — We’re totally gonna go study, can never get too much of learning! Thanks for the chat, Beat Buddy! It helped a whole bunch!”

Before Beat can say anything else, Fret is pushing past the crowd and sprinting away through the crossing. Leaving Beat staring after hm stupidly, his face aflame and his head spinning.

What…was that? Why was his damn heart hammering like a bass drum in his chest? It was just a dumb mistake, the kind he usually just laughs off, so why has it left him feeling so flustered?

Him and Phones. Him and Neku.

Did he like Neku? That was stupid. Of course he likes Neku, he’s his best friend! But did he like him like that?

He tries to add up all the things that he figures constitutes liking a person. He’s never really had this problem before: Beat’s just never really been into anyone. Sure he’s kissed the odd person here or there, back before he died, but it had never really meant anything. It was just one of those things it felt like you had to do as a teenager.

He liked spending time with him, yes. He liked that a whole lot. But you’d feel that way about a best friend too. He also really likes the way Neku looks at him, like Beat was worth looking at, the way he spoke to him, never making him feel like an idiot like so many people used to, and the way Neku had always kept him focused on what was important when his emotions were getting the better of him. But again: this still just felt like reasons why Neku is his best friend.

He also likes his hair. The colour of it, the way he styles it so that even though it covers his face, Beat can still see his eyes. He really likes his eyes — they were so very blue: when they’d met, Beat had thought they were icy blue, but they aren’t, they’re so full of such impossible warmth and kindness that Beat just feels like he can get lost in them at times.

He likes his lips too. The way they quirked up into a lopsided smile, or pulled back into a laugh. Beat had always thought they looked soft. He wonders if that’s true.

Oh, God.

He groans and drops his head into his hands, ignoring the looks he’s attracting.

He is screwed.

All this thinking is hurting his head. And he’s still damn confused. He needs to talk to someone. Who did he know that was in love? His parents? Gross. Also, hardly the picture of a model relationship. Shiki? Yes! Shiki!

He leaps to his feet, smacking his fist into his palm at the revelation. He is attracting even more weird looks than ever now, but he really doesn’t care. Figuring this shit out was more important than if a bunch of strangers thought he was nuts.

Okay. It was decided. He was gonna to talk to Shiki. She was gonna help him figure out this whole confusing mess. He could do this.

He glances at his phone, wondering if he should text her now. She was probably still with Neku, and he…

Oh, shit. Work.

His eyes find the time and he gives a yelp, dropping his skateboard to the ground then immediately hopping on it.

“Outta the way, yo! Emergency!”

‘Cause, you know, it is an emergency. Miki is gonna kill him.

It’s only as he bursts back through the store doors to find her glaring at him accusingly that he realises he completely forgot her drink.

Fuck. He really is screwed.

Shiki is gone by the time him and Shoka return home from work. She’d spent the entire walk home chatting about her day, too excited to even try and keep up her usual air of disinterested disdain. It’s so endearing that it even manages to keep Beat’s mind off his current dilemma — that is, at least, until he arrives home and finds Neku cooking dinner.

His heart immediately makes that weird, twisting feeling when Neku looks up and greets him with a smile. His face has a slight sheen to it: probably due to the heat of the stove, but it has the effect of making him look like he’s glowing.

“Hey you two!” He gives a small wave with the ladle. “I thought I’d make dinner this time — it’s nothing fancy, just shoyu ramen. Which, by the way,” he gives an accusatory point at Beat, but his expression is fond. “I notice you like now. You used to hate it!”

Beat ducks his head trying to hide his flush. He did once used to hate it, but it had always been Neku’s favourite food and after he died… Well, he had started trying it more and decided it wasn’t actually all that bad. Then he’d not been able to remember what he’d ever disliked about it in the first place.

Plus, it brought back memories of being back in the UG, sitting in Ramen Don beside Neku, the other boy laughing as Beat struggled to swallow a mouthful. So when Neku was gone… Well, it had just helped him feel a little bit less far away. That was all.

“Yo, with age comes a resigned palette!”

Shoka looks at him in disbelief, then at Neku.

“Refined. How was your first day, Shoka?”

Relaying the story one time already to Beat has apparently been enough time for Shoka to recover some of her usual attitude. She flips her hair then shakes it out.

“It was cool. Eri’s really nice, and her designs are awesome…” She looks momentarily shy. “She, uhm, had me dress up in some of the new line. She asked if maybe I’d think about modelling it, but I dunno…”

“You should do it, yo,” Beat tells her, propping his board by the front door. “They had me do it once. I didn’t really wanna, but I needed the cash and it was wasn’t tha’ bad. Plus they lemme keep the threads..”

Shoka stares at him.

“…I knew I recognised you! The Winter 2020 line, right?”

Beat chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, tha’ was me. Damn, you really know your Gatto Nero, huh?”

He looks to Neku to share a grin, but Neku is…also staring at him?

“…you modelled?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Damn, did he really have to look at him like that? He can feel his face burning from that gaze. “Jus’ the once, the girls couldn’t find anyone they thought fit the look or some shit.”

“Can I see them?”

Beat has to fight the urge to cover his face. Crap, crap, crap. Neku’s gonna have him blushing so hard he’ll light up the damn room like a Christmas tree at this rate.

“Uh, I guess. I didn’t hang onto ‘em, you could ask the girls. They’re pro’ly still in the store somewhere.”

Shoka huffs.

“I’m standing right here, you know. Is the food nearly ready? I’m starving.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, sorry. Let me plate up.”

Beat moves in to help him, the two of them working perfectly in tandem, just like when they were linked. The idea of that makes Beat happy. After Neku died, it felt like a part of him had died along with him. He’d always blamed that on their pact being severed, but now…

“Hey so,” Neku begins, interrupting Beat’s train of thought — thankfully. “Did you see the messages in the Twisters group chat?”

“Oh yeah,” Shoka pulls out her phone. “The first episode of the anime adaption of EleStra airs tonight, right? Nagi’s been freaking out all day.”

“I was thinking maybe we could invite them all over to watch it, if it’s okay with you guys? It’ll be a little cramped, but…”

“Hells yeah! Les’ ask Rhyme too, she’s actually real into that thing too. Like, not like Nagi levels of obsessesed or even Fret is, but she’d be down to watch it.”

Shoka shrugs, although she’s clearly biting back a smile.

“Sure. Your kitchen keeps spawning Moombas, so Rindragon’s been really keen to come over.”

“Rindragon?”

Shoka glowers at the pair of them, tugging furiously on her hoodie’s ears.

“Shut up! It’s his FanGo username! Ugh, are we eating or what?”

“We’re eating, we’re eating.” Neku assures her with a chuckle.

It’s as they’re sitting around the breakfast bar, discussing what little each of them knows about EleStra, Beat is suddenly reminded of what he’d said to the Twisters shortly after he’d met them, about the importance of savouring the love that went into food made by someone else.

He wonders if that’s why Neku’s ramen tastes better to him than any other he’s ever tried.

All in all, it’s a pretty good night. Neither Eri or Shiki could make it — apparently it was date night and they were going out for pancakes — but the Twisters had shown up in full force. Fret had purposefully avoided making direct eye contact with Beat when he arrived, but all had been forgotten once EleStra started. Both he and Nagi had sat with both their faces practically pressed up against the TV screen. With Eri and Shiki not present, it had turned out they actually had enough seats for Shoka and their guests, thanks to the beanbags. Which left just Beat and Neku on the couch and Beat unable to focus on the show whatsoever. He catches himself staring on more than one occasion, and the urge to just smother his face in a pillow is overwhelming. He’s just glad everyone seems so focused on the television that they don’t seem to notice. He hopes.

When the time come for them to leave, Shoka opts to head out with Rindo for a little while to see if they can catch some of the creatures that only appear at nighttime in the game or theirs’. Once they all depart, Beat pushes himself up off the couch and hisses through his teeth as the muscles in his side spasm in agony.

“That’s it,” Neku declares, standing up and folding his arms. His expression reminds Beat of the one he used to wear when staring down a Noise. “No more couch for you. You’re clearly in pain.”

“Naw, man.” Beat insists, but he can’t help rubbing his aching side even as he protests. It fucking hurts. “I jus’ slept funny, s’all. It ain’t a big deal. It’ll totally be fine once I get used to it. ‘Sides, I been sleepin’ in a bed for the last three years! You deserve a lil’ comfort after what you gone through yanno?”

Neku clenches his jaw and taps his foot, clearly frustrated.

“You seriously gonna do this? Keep insisting you’re okay?”

“I am okay!”

He’s not okay.

Neku drops his arms, still looking frustrated but also a little…embarrassed? He rubs the side of his neck, looking away.

“Well, if you’re gonna insist on being such a stubborn ass about it… Maybe…” He licks his lips, looking decidedly nervous. “Maybe…well, it’s a double bed and all. We could always…share?”

Oh, fuck.

Shit, fuck, crap, and every other swear word in the dictionary. Neku really had to go and suggest this to him today, huh? When Beat’s head is spinning enough as it is, and he doesn’t know whether his feelings are just normal friends shit, or more, and he hasn’t even had the chance to talk to Shiki about it yet and —

“I mean, it’s just a suggestion!” Neku is the one looking embarrassed now, twisting the sleeve of his coat absently. “I’m perfectly fine taking the couch! You just seem so damned…adamant about me taking your room, and there is absolutely no way I’m letting you keep sleeping on that thing when it’s so clearly fucking up your back. So I thought maybe we could…compromise?”

“You ain’t sleepin’ on the couch, yo! Then you’ll be hurting’ yourself!”

Neku looks smug.

“Aha! So you admit it! The couch does hurt to sleep on!”

Fuck. Why did Neku have to be so damn smart?

Ugh. There really was no way of getting around this. Neku clearly wasn’t gonna let up on the subject, and there’s no way Beat is giving in either.

“…fine,” he relents, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We’ll share the bed. Long as it doesn’t put you out.”

Neku looks pleased to have finally gotten Beat to concede, but sighs all the same.

“It’s your room, Beat. And it’s your —“

“Ours’.” Beat quickly cuts him off. “I told ya, man, ya keep saying that is’ mine and I’m gonna —”

“—’smack me upside the damn head’, I remember.” Neku shakes his head ruefully. “Alright, alright. Let’s get your stuff back in the room before you change your mind again.”

Beat helps Neku gather up the spare duvet and pillows that had been dumped in the corner of the room whilst the others had been there, for the sake of room, stealing the occasional glance in the process. Neku catches him at one point, and pauses in the act of reaching for a cushion, holding his gaze. Beat’s breath catches in his chest at just how blue Neku’s eyes are, and he doesn’t know what to call the way he’s looking at him, and why is he holding eye contact with him like this, could it be that Neku felt —

Beat coughs, and straightens up, hugging the bedding to his chest. He offers an awkward smile, before marching in the direction of the bedroom, heart thudding so loudly in his chest that he swears it must be shaking the room.

It was just sharing a bed. It didn’t mean anything. No different to sleepovers with friends when he was younger, when they’d all set up sleeping bag in the living rooms of their folks’ house and fall asleep next to one another.

That’s all it is.

Just friends.

...He really needs that talk with Shiki.

“So, which side do you sleep on?” Neku asks him casually, walking into the room just as Beat is pulling on the racerback he sleeps in over his head. He’s changed into similar sleeping attire to Beat: a black tanktop and pajama bottoms. Beat usually prefers to sleep in his boxers, but ever since Shoka moved in, that had felt kinda inappropriate.

“Uh.” Beat glances at his bed, scratching the back of his head. He doesn’t really have a side — quite frankly, he usually just faceplants into the middle of the damn thing and falls asleep that way. “I dunno. I’m, uh, flexible. You choose?”

“Left,” Neku answers, almost immediately. Beat must have raised his eyebrows or something at the speed of his response, because Neku shift his weight, looking self-conscious. “I...like getting to wake up with the sunrise through the window.”

And shit, if that don’t break Beat’s heart all over again. Because Neku doesn’t need to say the unspoken reason why, it’s there etched deep in their hearts, just one word that changed everything: Shinjuku.

Over 1095 days spent wandering in the darkness. Beat had looked the number up after Neku returned, and that alone had him wanting to smash his phone against the wall just thinking what Neku had been put through. Even now, he can feel his fingers balling into fists and has to force them to unclench. Neku’s trying so hard to adjust to the here and now, to finally being alive again, and Beat has to allow that and trust that Neku will tell him all about it when he’s ready.

All the same, it still makes him want to gather Neku up in his arms and promise he won’t ever be alone again. Not on Beat’s watch.

“You got it, Phones!” he says instead, forcing a cheer he doesn’t quite feel into his tone. He stretches, cracking his knuckles over his head. “Shall we…?”

Neku chuckles, pulling back the duvet and settling down onto the mattress.

“You really need an invitation?”

Beat flings a pillow at him, laughing as it bounces off Neku’s head.

“Bein’ polite!”

Neku throws the pillow back, and man, they are not gonna descend into a goddamn pillow fight like a pair of ten-year-olds, but the temptation is hella strong. Instead, Beat flops down onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and tucking it back under his head. When he turns his head, Neku is lying there wearing a grin on his face that makes Beat recall what he’d thought about how his mouth was made for smiling. He’s grateful that the Neku he’d met had come to learn to smile so freely, but regrets how many years he’d missed out seeing them.

He feels the most absurd urge to reach out and push away the fringe falling across one startling blue eye.

“Well!” He clears his throat, and turns away, reaching for the bedside lamp. Any more of this and he was gonna end up doing something really fuckin’ goddamn stupid. “Night, Phones! Y’better have not started snoring since comin’ back t’ the RG, or maybe I will make ya sleep on the damn couch.”

He flicks the lamp off and rolls onto his back, distinctly aware that the mattress hasn’t shifted, which means Neku is yet to move away.

“...Night, Beat,” Neku replies, finally, turning onto his side. Beat swallows, staring up at the ceiling and does his best to not feel too disappointed.

He’s not quite sure how many hours he spends tossing and turning, but at a certain point, Beat is forced to flop onto his back and admit he is not gonna fall asleep.

Too many damn thoughts flying around his goddamn head, in a way he’s really not used to. He’d spent a lot of sleepless nights after his first two stints in the Game, but they had been because he’d been unable to stop reliving his sister and his best friend’s deaths…. In the former’s case, he could always peek around the doorway to Rhyme’s room and check that she was still there sleeping peacefully, whilst with Neku… Well, there was no settling that panic, but it had been a different kind of disturbance.

What he’s experiencing now...

He’s distinctly aware of the compression of the mattress beside him, where Neku is nestled, so close that Beat could reach out and touch him if he wanted to. Which he is most definitely not going to do. But it’s got his head all messed up again, trying to figure out whether the way he’s thinking is just the kinda way you think about your buddies or not, or something more.

He most definitely doesn’t think this way about Eri or Shiki. Was that ‘cause they’d always been a couple, long as he can remember? Then the rest of his buds… Everyone who was ‘round the same age as him, they were friends and stuff, but it was hard to really feel close to a person when they didn’t know half of the shit you’ve been through.

Was that just it? Was it just because Neku had been there? He frowns up at the ceiling. No, that doesn’t feel right, though. Neku hadn’t just been there — Neku had been the person who had kept his head screwed on, Neku had been the one who taught him that he shouldn’t bother listenin’ to his folks’ bullshit, that he should just be true to himself… Neku had seen him break down, again and again, seen him at his weakest, and yet, still believed in him. Even when Beat couldn’t believe in himself.

Neku is more than a best friend.

He just can’t figure out what that means.

Beat tucks both his hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling, cursing the timing of this whole damn arrangement. Fret really had to go and say what he damn well said…

He’s shocked out of his musings when Neku shifts in his sleep with a grumbling noise, nestling into Beat.

Beat freezes up, body going rigid as a board as his gaze flicks frantically between Neku and the ceiling. Fuck, fuck, fuck, is this really happening? Appara-fucking-ly, going by the way Neku mumbles something incomprehensible and buries his head into the space between Beat’s arm and torso. And goddamn, if it doesn’t feel like every part of Beat’s body where Neku’s is touching is aflame, so much so that it’s almost overwhelming.

He never would have figured Neku for the cuddly type. But then again, it’s been three damn years at least since the other guy had really been touched: maybe he’s unconsciously drawn to the warmth of another person or something.

Beat tries to tell himself that. That this is about Neku just wanting the closeness of another human body, it doesn’t really have anything to do with that body being Beat’s.

The thought hurts. But it’s better to be realistic. No point getting your hopes up, and then…

Wait, hopes? What the hell is Beat thinking?

Before he can berate himself further, Neku nuzzles into him, throwing an arm across his chest. It nearly breaks Beat, all those thoughts of how he’s wanted to take Neku in his arms and chase his demons away, teach them that they could never mess with Neku without going through Beat. He looks at Neku then, and is taken aback at just how damn peaceful he looks pressed up against him. It does things to Beat that he doesn’t even have words for. All he knows is that he wants is for Neku to always feel this safe, and he’ll do everything in his damn power to make that possible.

Beat cautiously shifts his weight, making an effort to not wake Neku. With deliberate care, he drapes his arm across Neku’s pillow, gently laying it just above his head. The gesture has the intended effect, with Neku apparently sensing the additional body heat radiating from him and rolling that bit closer against him. It gives Beat the room to wrap his arm around Neku, draw him tighter, and hope that the rapid thud, thud, thud of his heartbeat doesn’t somehow wake him.

It doesn’t. Neku gives a contented sigh, inhaling deeply before his breathing starts to even out, drifting back off into a deep sleep.

Sleeping is the last thing on Beat’s mind, now more than ever. He can’t keep himself from watching Neku, nestled up against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And the crazy thing is, is that it feels so damn natural. Like this is how they’ve always been meant to be. Again, he wants to brush his hair away from his face, wants to feel the sharp line of his cheekbone, wants to run his thumb across his lower lip and see what Neku would do.

He wants to learn all the parts of him that he doesn’t already know.

Beat just wants Neku. Always has, always will.

Tomorrow, he’ll have time to berate himself for all this. Tomorrow, he’ll no doubt be thrust back into the storm of self-doubt that’s been wracking him, the questions he’s no answer to, the confusion that’s been eating him alive.

Tonight, he has Neku in his arms.

And that is enough.

Sleep finds him soon enough after that.

Chapter Text

“If we could just be on earth at the same place and same time as everyone we loved, if we could be born together and die together, it would be so simple. And it’s not. But listen: you two are on the planet at the same time. You’re in the same place now. That’s a miracle. I just want to say that.”

The Great Believers, Rebecca Makkai

***

NEKU

Neku stirs, dimly aware of light spilling into the room behind his closed eyelids. He smiles at that: he’ll never take sunlight for granted ever again. Not after the endless murky void that served as sky in what was left of Shinjuku.

Shinjuku… He still hasn’t talked about it with anyone, not even Beat. He’s not sure he even really wants to. How did you really describe three years of nothing? No, not nothing: the voices of all the people who had died running through his head, scared, confused, desperately trying to reach out and learn what had happened to them. But Neku couldn’t. He was dead too, but they were someplace else entirely, beyond his reach.

All he could do was try and shut them out, continue his hunt for answers as to what had happened there, fill his head instead with memories of his friends. Keep his focus on what was important: returning home to them.

Shit, he doesn’t like thinking about this. The last few days have been a blessed respite from the darker corners of his mind, the places he finds himself drifting off to when alone, or during conversations with the people who just didn’t know. Spacing out during dinners with his family or walking the streets of Shibuya, trying to make sense of just how much life is present now. And that he’s a part of it.

It hadn’t felt real. Not when he’s been simply a shadow passing through them without notice for so many years.

But now, there is sunlight on his face, there is something strong and present and so very alive pressed against him, and Neku can’t help but let out a contented noise, burrowing a little closer into that sense of intimacy. The comfort is something he hadn’t even really known he’d been yearning for, warmth flowing through him as he tries to bury himself in it. He knows that morning is here, and soon he’ll have to get out of bed and go about his day — whatever that entails, he’s still trying to figure out a structure post-resurrection — but for now, he just wants to linger here. Feeling safe. Comforted. Held.

Wait.

Held by who?

He blinks his eyes awake, slowly allowing his vision to adjust to the light filtering through the curtains. And then to the gradual, dawning realisation that he isn’t alone in the bed. No, he’s currently nestled into the side of someone else entirely and held there, close, by a strong arm around his shoulders.

Oh my god. It’s Beat.

Neku is cuddling up to Beat, his face pressed into the other man’s chest whilst he sleeps on, oblivious.

Immediately, all the blood in Neku’s body rushes to his face, to the point he’s almost surprised the burn of his cheeks isn’t enough to wake Beat alone. Neku does not remember getting into this predicament, but it’s clear enough from their positioning that he was the one who must have initiated the contact during his state of unconsciousness.

Fuck, this is so awkward. It’s not like he can even really move either, because then Beat would wake up and Neku would be forced to actually address the fact with him about how he had apparently thought it was okay to snuggle up with his best friend during the night, when they were both sharing a bed. Beat’s bed.

He wouldn’t have thought his face couldn’t feel any hotter, but here they are, as momentary dread creeps over him. What if Beat thought that this was why Neku had been so insistent on getting him off the couch? So that Neku could take advantage of him by using him as a human security blanket? Oh, god.

He tries to reassure himself that Beat would never think that, knows Neku well enough that he’d understand his concern for Beat’s wellbeing had been at the forefront of his mind. The only thing on his mind.

Not…this.

Whatever this is.

How had this even happened? Neku isn’t exactly the touchy-feely type — or at least, he hadn’t been anyway, not before the Game. But here he is, wrapped up in Beat’s arms and…embarrassingly enough, feeling the most comfortable and secure he can ever recall being.

There’s just something about Beat, the compassion he exudes, the sense that nothing was ever insurmountable so long as Beat was at his side. Even the horror of when Coco had trapped them in her own twisted amalgamation of the Game, the two of them had just known that they would win.

The true terror had come when he woke up in the UG after Coco had shot him, with Beat nowhere to be seen.

But he refused to give up. No matter how hard it got, he knew Beat would be on the other side, fighting just as hard to find Neku.

He’s always known they’d never give up on one another.

Neku forces himself to take a deep breath. None of that really answered how he’d ended up exactly here. Clinging onto Beat like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Shinjuku had clearly affected him in more ways than he’d realised. The craving for the feel of another person’s touch, how good it feels to have skin pressed against skin. And even more so than that, all the little things that came along with the feel of another living, breathing person near him: like Beat, now, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps, the slight flutter of his eyelashes every now and then, the way his lips part with each exhale. It has Neku’s heart twisting in ways it has no right to do, fills his head with thoughts of what Beat would do if Neku trailed his fingers over the exposed line of his collarbone, if he buried his head into Beat’s neck, if he pressed his lips to Beat’s jawbone, and —

Nope. No. These are decidedly thoughts that he is not going to indulge in. Especially when his friend is still asleep, potentially oblivious to the way they’d ended up tangled together in such a manner. Beat had probably just thrown his arm over him instinctively, nothing more.

Neku isn’t sure if maybe the thought itself has caused him to shift in such a manner that it’s stirred Beat back to consciousness, or had the sunlight had its own natural effect on waking him, but Beat rouses from his slumber, stretching a little as he does so. He gives a contented smile before blinking his eyelids awake, and oh, there’s that ache deep down inside of Neku as Beat arches his neck to look at him, offering him a bashful smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Neku’s words come out more like a mumble, and it’s taking everything he can to not just pull away.

Beat’s hand falls to Neku’s bicep, giving it a quick squeeze.

“You, heh — a cuddler then, I take it?”

Neku swallows thickly, all too aware of how he’s still holding onto Beat. He tries to relax his grip, get his blush under control in the process. At least Beat hadn’t woken up horrified.

“…I didn’t think I was,” Neku admits with a hoarse chuckle. “But, uhm… Maybe Shinjuku changed that. It’s been…”

He trails off uncomfortably, looking away. Beat is there in an instant, wrapping his arm back around Neku and pulling him close, so that the lower half of his face is pressed into the back of Neku’s head. Neku fails to repress a shiver.

“‘Donchu’ worry, Phones,” Beat murmurs into his hair. His breath feels so warm and welcoming against his skull, that Neku allows his eyelids to flutter shut, a tiny sigh escaping his lips. “There ain’t no shame in needin’ to be held, e’ry now ‘n then.”

He gives him another squeeze.

“I gotchu. Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Neku nestles a little bit closer, and tries to allow himself to believe that.

***

BEAT

SHIKI
hey beat!
everything ok?

SHIKI
totally!!!!
how about bubblevision?

SHIKI
you just haven’t found the right flavour for you yet!
but yes! let’s head there after work
btw did you do something to miki?
she was even more angry than usual when i got in yesterday

SHIKI
heehee~
<3
c u soon!

***

Beat really does not get the appeal of bubble tea.

He’s pushing the weird globules at the bottom of the drink around in disdain when Shiki breezes in the door, having stayed a little extra late after Gatto Nero’s closing time. Beat would have hung around waiting for her, but the way Miki was glaring at him had made him decide that just meeting Shiki at Bubblevision was the best course of action for his survival rate.

Shiki gives him an enthusiastic wave, before joining the queue to order. It gives Beat a moment to take a deep breath and try to figure out how to best convey to Shiki the current mass of confusing thoughts churning around his head in any kind of way that makes any actual sense. Because it sure as hell doesn’t make any sense to Beat, and this morning had absolutely not helped his case either.

Waking up with Neku in his arms, gazing up at him bashfully, his face an even brighter shade of red than his hair… Hell, it had just done things to Beat, things he wasn’t sure he has ever even felt before.

And then…

The moment Neku had mentioned Shinjuku, it had been like a flare had ignited itself in Beat’s gut. Embarrassing, conflicting feelings aside, there wasn’t any way he was gonna let Neku linger on thoughts about that place. He’d known, then, that what Neku needed was something solid to hold onto, someone, and Beat didn’t care if that was as far as it went between them. He was happy to be that warmth, that presence, an anchor to the real world if Neku ever feels that slipping away.

He isn’t sure how long they’d stayed there, just listening to the sound of one another’s heartbeats, Beat absently stroking Neku’s hair and just relishing that sensation of being together. Neku had been the one to pull away eventually, reminding Beat that he had best get to work, which as it turned out, Beat was running very late for. Shoka had complained about this fact for roughly half their commute, until Beat opted to lift her up, place her in front of him on the skateboard and travel the rest of the way in that fashion. She’d been less than pleased with him, but at least they made it to work on time.

Shiki plonks herself down in front of him, setting down her boba on the table, then her satchel and Mr. Mew on the chair to her side. The space bought them a little extra privacy, for which Beat is profoundly grateful.

“So!” She declares with her usual cheer. “To what do I owe the honour? I have to say, you coming looking for advice is not something I’m particularly used to. You always sort of, you know..” She covers her mouth to hide a titter. “…charge right on ahead, doing what you think is best.”

“Hey! Tha’s only like…true half’a t’time.” He flops back in his chair, blowing his fringe out of his face with an agitated sigh. He doesn’t really know how to raise this subject with her, and it’s got him bouncing with excess pent-up energy, his foot jostling over his bent knee beneath the table.

Shiki notices, and reaches out, pro-offering her hand, palm-up, with a little tilt of her head to the side. She looks sympathetic, despite the fact she doesn’t even know what’s wrong yet, and that’s just so damn Shiki of her that Beat can’t help but relent, shuffling his weight forward and balancing his weight on his elbows. He gives Shiki’s hand a quick squeeze, before tucking it back under his folded arms.

“I jus’, uh… I been wonderin’ some stuff, yo.” He sips his boba tea experimentally and grimaces. He’s never gonna see what they all see in this crap. “Like… Well, uh. For starters.” He scratches the back of his neck. “You ‘n Eri… Feels like you both been together for long as I can remember, y’know? But, I ‘member you said it di’nt happen till after the Game, so, uh… What changed?”

Shiki takes a long, ponderous sip of her boba before sitting back, raising a finger to her lips in that way she does when she’s thinking. She taps it a few times, looking off somewhere into the distance.

“It’s funny,” She begins, stirring her boba with the straw. “In a way, it’s like nothing really changed. It just crept up on me, you know? Eri and I… Well, we were always a team. It just took me realising that I was just as important a part of our team as she is.” She sighs, pushing her hair away from her face. “That’s what the Game taught me… I just spent so long at war with myself. Comparing myself to her, thinking I couldn’t measure up, trying to figure out what a girl like her could see in me… I never really stopped and took stock of what I meant to Eri, too.”

Beat nods, slowly. He recalls what it was like trying to live up to his parents constantly comparing him to his little sister, when what he should have been doing, is just caring about how much Rhyme loved him for who he was. Is.

“So when the Game was over, and I finally knew… It happened pretty quickly after I told her about everything — I know you told me not to, but —”

“You made the right decision, yo,” Beat interrupts quickly. “Not bein’ able to tell anyone ‘bout that time...ate me up inside, yanno, I can’t imagine hiding all that from yo’ girl. ‘Sides, Eri’s great! ‘M lucky to have her to share all that crap with too, yo.”

Shiki flashes him a grateful look.

“Well, I told her, and… Once I started telling her about what she meant to me, then I just couldn’t stop. I couldn’t believe myself! I was already scared she’d think I was crazy, but…” She shyly ducks her head. “...The best part of opening up to someone like that...is learning they feel the same way.”

Beat thinks of Neku staring up at him with those dazzling blue eyes, from beneath his shock of tousled red hair that morning, how close he’d felt, their limbs wrapped around one another. He bites his lip.

“It’s funny, really,” Shiki continues, “if it hadn’t been for the Game… Well that’s not true, if it hadn’t been for Neku... Wait a minute.” She straightens up suddenly, looking at him with eyes like saucers. “Why are you asking me this stuff, all of a sudden?”

Beat flushes, trying to hide it by taking a sip of his boba, which just results in an exaggerated grimace. He can’t meet Shiki’s eyes.

“Well, it’s just, yanno — I been thinkin’ over some stuff lately, and — erm — since I got back from the UG again, it’s been confusin’, an’ —”

“Daisu —”

“Agh! Don’t!”

“— Beat! Are you finally admitting that you’re in love with Neku?”

Beat just gawks at her helplessly. She — Shiki knew? Wait, knew what? Since when are they throwing around words like love? Beat wasn’t even entirely sure he knew what the hell he felt about Neku!

“Yo!” he squawks, waving his hands in front of him, frantically. “I don’t — it’s not like — since when do you —?!”

Shiki rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Beat,” she says, patiently, “you have been searching for Neku for three solid years. All you ever talked about was Neku. And now that he’s back, you look at him like…” Her hand falls from her face, moving to cup her chin as she gives him a sympathetic look. “...you look at him like he’s some kind of miracle.”

Oh, hell. Was it that obvious to everyone, except apparently him and Neku? Beat smothers his face in both of his hands.

“But I don’t know, yo!” he laments, not even caring how stupidly whiny his voice sounds. “Like, I just dunno! I ain’t never have a friend like him, it’s not like you ‘n Eri, you guys knew each other before — Phones and I met in the Game, we been through so much ‘n even without him, I never felt that way about another friend — err, no offence.”

“None taken!”

“So, it’s so confusin’! This could be just how ya s’posed to feel about your best bud, but I just wouldn’t know, ‘n…” He digs his fingers into his hair, still clutching his head in his hands. “...’n I don’t wanna screw this up, yo. ‘Specially after…” He lets go of his scalp and fidgets with his hands, staring down at them.

“…after all Neku’s been through, yo. I don’t want for him to… I jus’ don’t want him gettin’ hurt, not anymore than he already has been.”

The brief silence weighs heavy in the air, Beat barely even processing the other people passing by. He’s too fixated on his own thumbs, digging into the skin of his palms, studying the tiny crescent moons that they leave in their wake.

“Beat.”

Shiki’s voice shakes him out of his contemplation, followed by hands settling over his. He lifts his gaze to her’s, and is taken aback by just how much understanding he sees reflected in her face.

“Listen. What you both went through… It was something different entirely. All that time you spent together… You’re bound to feel closer to him, than you would most other people. But.” She settles her hand over his. “It’s not about what you went through, it’s about the fact you went through it together… What the two of you have… None of us would be here today without it.”

Beat nods, ponderously. But still…

“And besides,” Shiki adds, her voice taking on a stern note. “You worry about all the things he went through — what about you? I know it was different, but…” She bites her lip. “I saw...how much it killed you, after all you saw… Then not being able to find him… Oh, Beat.”

Beat’s head jerks up at the way her voice cracks, her fingernails digging into his skin.

“It killed me watching you like that. Just so closed off from everything and everyone, when — when we all — oh, Beat, if you were anyone else, you would have hated us for moving on with our lives! But you’re not. You’re Beat.”

She squeezes his hands again, smiling up at him, even as tears spill down her cheeks.

“You’re Beat, and you think you’re an idiot, but you’re not. But you will be an idiot if you keep repressing these feelings you have for Neku. And don’t open your eyes to how crazy he is about you too.”

Her thumbs brush over his knuckles.

“And… You two, you both deserve so much happiness. After everything that’s happened. To both of you. Stop giving yourself too little credit!”

In a heartbeat, her tears become a smile.

“Without you, we wouldn’t have Neku back with us now! So, please… Take this chance to be happy, okay? Just talk to Neku about how you’re feeling. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Beat sits there, half-stunned, torn between looking at their knitted hands or her tears. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.

“I… Thanks, Sheeks,” he utters softly. “You, uh. Really don’t think I’ll freak him out or anything? Won’t be takin’ advantage?”

Shiki giggles, releasing one of his hands to faux-punch him in the shoulder.

“Really. Honestly, Beat, we all see the way you look at one another. You’re clearly crazy about each other. You know the Twisters all already think you’re dating?”

Beat groans, dropping his forehead into a single palm.

“I know,” he mutters, massaging his temple with his thumb. “I think what’s their damn bet was about, yo’.”

“Oh, it was,” Shiki chuckles, drawing back to take a sip of her boba. She’s grinning around the straw. “I couldn’t participate. Felt like cheating.”

Beat glares at her.

“You damn lucky I can’t say much mo’, ‘cuz you’s my boss.”

Still, he has much to thank Shiki for. Much and more. And if he finds the courage to pull off this conversation…

“Thanks, Sheeks,” he utters, sincerely. “For...everythin’, really. But today ‘specially. Can’t promise how shit will work out, but…” He closes his eyes for just a moment, recalling the feeling of Neku lying contently in his arms earlier. The way he’d looked at him. That had to mean something, right?

“...but things stand a’hella better chance of me not messin’ this up, yo, thanks to you.”

Shiki laughs, tugging on his hands so that she’s leaning halfway across the table, pulling him into a hug. Beat can’t help but join in the laughter, holding onto his friend’s shoulders to the best of his ability from across the length of the table.

“It’s just like Mister H said,” she whispers into his ear. “The world ends with you. Make the most of all we have.”

She hugs him tighter.

“The world begins with us, and what we do with it. You’ve a whole lot of love to give, Beat. Just allow yourself to receive a little in return.”

***

NEKU

Dinner with his parents had been… Well, strange was putting it lightly.

All of them had been, really, ever since he’d been revived. But it was especially weird after the last few days, where he’s had the luxury of only being around people who knew the truth of everything that had happened. It had been jarring returning to this faux life Joshua had concocted for him in his absence.

Neku reflects on its strangeness as he walks back to his new home, his hands shoved in his pockets. The sun is only beginning to set over Tokyo, the streets busy with people rushing by on their way home from work. He can’t help but still bump into the odd person here and there, especially without Beat or Shiki present to help guide him through, one hand gently wrapped around his arm as they steer him through the crowd.

So many things he had to adjust to. Even if it had been over a month, he still fumbled.

Like keeping up with the lie his parents had been fed. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they thought he’s suffering with memory problems: what with the amount of times he ends up blankly staring at them, or tripping over his words as he tries his best to recall what was the correct answer to their questions about his time in Yokahama.

There were even pictures on the refrigerator. How the hell had Joshua even managed that?

Tonight’s conversation had revolved around how he was getting on at his new place, and that much had been easy enough to answer. But then had come the pressing question about university applications, which left Neku at a loss once more. He didn’t want to argue with them again, but how on earth could he answer how his applications were going, when he didn’t even know what he wanted to study? His education wasn’t something he’d particularly thought about during his time being dead.

He supposes he’s going to have to think about it, he reflects when he reaches the front door to their apartment complex. After all, he actually really did have a future now. He needs to do something with it. Maybe he could talk to Nagi about it: she was a student in Aoyama Gakuin after all, maybe she could advise him on what courses they offer. He hopes Joshua had left him with some decent school test scores, at the very least.

He unlocks the door, pushing his way into the flat, and is shocked when the first thing he hears is the sound of a girl softly crying.

Shoka, is his first thought, and sure enough, there she is sitting on the sofa in her distinctive Mr Mew hoodie, hunched over herself on folded arms and weeping quietly.

He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can't just leave her like this.

“Shoka…?” He greets her in a soft tone, gently approaching the couch. Her head shoots up in surprise, and she immediately starts to aggressively wipe her tears away with the sleeves of her hoodie.

“I wasn’t crying!” she blurts out, even as her lower lip continues to quiver. “I was just… I don’t know, I was just thinking about some stuff, and…”

“It’s alright, Shoka.” Neku stands by the arm rest, fingers brushing over it. “Can I sit?”

She looks away, visibly gritting her jaw. It takes her a moment to respond.

“…if you really want to, fine.”

Neku settles himself down beside her, gently, taking care not to invade any of her space. He clasps his hands in front of him, leaning forward and dropping them between his knees.

They just sit like that for a minute or two, Shoka still stubbornly staring at the wall, tears spilling down her face. She gives the occasional sniffle, wiping them away when they start to drip from her cheeks.

“…Bad day, huh?”

“It’s not that!” she erupts, turning and shaking her head vigorously. “Today — today was great, I got to work with Shiki for the first time, and she’s so good at making clothes, she even fit me for some new designs and — it’s been really fun, getting to go play FanGo with Rindo at lunch break and in the evenings and everything — it’s just that —“

She gives a little hiccup.

“I just… The other Reapers… They were my family, and…”

“You miss them.”

“Yeah,” she admits. “Even Shiba, despite everything he did… Rindo’s tried to explain it to me, that whole Angel that got wiped out of existence but it still…hurts, you know? He would have killed me, and then… Then what happened to Ayano…”

It’s at that point, Shoka breaks down sobbing.

Neku just sits there, feeling his heart break for her. He wishes he could do something to heal her pain, but there isn’t anything, Shoka had lost so much, her two siblings that had loved her so much and were never coming back… And so he sits with her whilst she weeps, hoping that his company is enough of a reminder that she isn’t alone in her pain. Nor will she ever be again.

After a while, the grief-ridden, shuddering sobs come to an end, replaced by the occasional sniffle or whimper. She hugs herself tightly, eyes closed.

“I…killed her, Neku.”

“No you did not,” Neku states with such firmness that Shoka turns her head to face him, eyes widening. “You didn’t kill her. I know I didn’t know her, but I know what it’s like to care about someone so much that you’ll do anything to get them back. From what I was told… What happened to Shinjuku, to all the Reapers that didn’t survive… She really struggled adjusting to Shibuya after that, right?”

Shoka bites her lip, giving a tiny nod.

“It sounds like…her mind wasn’t right. Same as Shiba, everyone was suffering from the manipulations of the Angels’ Games.” He grits his jaw. Now that he really knows a thing or two about. “Even you Reapers… If you want to blame anyone, blame the Angels. The Higher Plane. Just don’t blame yourself.”

Shoka looks at him for a long moment, before returning her gaze to her lap. The tears continue to fall, but some of that guilt seems to have eased away from her shoulders. Not all. But some.

“…thank you,” she mumbles, her voice sounding uncharacteristically small. “I just…wish there was some way to still talk to them. Even though I thought Shinjuku kinda sucked, it was still my home.” She licks her lips. “And… I know how strong they all are. I know they’ll get it back.”

Neku huffs a laugh.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t doubt them. They’re some of the strongest Reapers I’ve ever met. Just don’t tell Uzuki I said that, if we die again.”

That gets a laugh out of Shoka. Neku smiles.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll try to remember that if you like, go and get shot again. And…” She takes a deep breath. “I won’t…forget what Ayano and Big Su did for me, either. What they sacrificed.”

She looks at him again, cracking a tiny smile.

“Uhm… Thanks, Neku. I guess you can be kinda cool sometimes. Being here with you two, it’s… Actually not as lame as I thought it was gonna be.”

Neku snorts.

“High praise coming from you.”

“Yup. Don’t expect much more. And you better not tell anyone that I was crying! Not even Beat.” She sticks her tongue out at him, before glancing over his shoulder at Beat’s bedroom.

“I, uh, am glad you guys made up or whatever happened anyway. I could tell this couch was totally screwing up his back, and no way was I sleeping on it.”

Neku blinks at her in confusion. Why had Shoka thought him and Beat were fighting?

She stands up before he can ask, giving a little stretch.

“Annnnyway, I’m gonna go shower. Thanks again, Neku.”

She’s away before Neku can say anything more.

Huh. That was weird. What could have made her think that Beat and him had been in an argument?

Unless…

He looks down at the sofa he’s still sitting on and his eyes widen.

Hang on.

Is that what Shoka had meant by ‘lover’s tiff’ the other morning? When she’d seen the bedding on the couch? Did she think Beat and Neku were…together?

Oh. Oh God.

What should he do? Chase after Shoka and inform her that Beat and himself were not in a relationship? No, nope, he should most definitely not do that, Shoka had gotten up to go take a shower so that was highly inappropriate. Should he bring it up with her later? Beat would be home by then and even if he wasn’t, how the hell was he supposed to broach that topic of conversation with her? Hey Shoka, so when you thought Beat and I had falling out because he was asleep on the couch, was that because you think we share a bed usually, because we’re totally not together together or anything and do other people think we are, because —

Neku’s head falls into his hands and he lets out a low groan. This was hopeless. There really wasn’t any point to even saying anything to Shoka, the conversation would be far too awkward and surely she’d figure it out for herself on her own. Once she witnessed how very much not together he and Beat are. Nope. Not together. Definitely not together.

He can’t help but think back on that morning, how Beat had been okay with waking up to find Neku in his arms, had even gone so far to pull him back in and hold him there, carding his fingers through his red hair. Was that how Beat was with all his friends? He’d never been someone shy of physical contact, not like Neku had once been, but he can’t really picture Beat holding someone like Shiki, or Eri like that.

Is it different with Neku? Why is that? And why is recalling feeling the sensation of Beat’s fingers threading through his hair giving him butterflies in his stomach, like some lovesick teenager?

Shit.

Maybe he is a lovesick teenager.

It feels like the revelation should hit him harder than it does, but instead, it feels like something clicking into place. Because of course, of course, it’s Beat, it’s always been Beat, Beat who’d grasped his hand and saved him from the Reapers’ machinations. Beat who had never stopped looking for him, never gave up on him, Beat who had found him again and guided him back towards resurrection.

His hands slip away from his face and into his lap, staring at them thoughtfully. Even they feel empty without Beat’s fingers entwined between them. He can’t believe it took him so long to realise that.

But it begs the question:

What now?

Does he tell Beat? He should tell Beat. It wouldn’t be fair on the other man otherwise, to have Neku living here, constantly around him and feeling these things every time he sees his face. Or hears his voice, or quite frankly, even thinks about him. It’s just that… If he’d thought that conversation with Shoka would have been awkward, this was like taking on the Composer himself in comparison. He had absolutely no previous experience of this kind of…thing, in order to even begin to know how to approach it.

No, he needs to plan this better. He can’t just turn around and blurt this out haphazardly as soon as Beat gets home, he can’t make a mess of something as important as this. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this right. He also needs to prepare for the outcome: there’s every chance in the world that Beat is going to look at him sympathetically and tell Neku he just doesn’t see him as anything more than a friend. Neku needs to make sure he’s ready for that, that he won’t just seize up awkwardly and end up acting like a weirdo around his best friend and roommate out of embarrassment.

Beat deserves better than that. The best.

Neku bites his lip.

He just hopes he’s up to the task.

***

BEAT

Beat’s not sure how many hours he’s spent staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

At least two, but it feels more like four or five. Rhyme used to make fun of him for being able to just lie down on a flat surface and immediately fall asleep, which was admittedly true. Most of the time, the surface didn’t even need to be flat: he could pass out at a minute’s notice on whatever he was seated on. His body would punish him for it later, sure, but he could at least fall asleep.

On those occasions, however, he didn’t have Neku curled up into his side, much like the night before.

It hadn’t started like this. Neku had made some awkward joke about staying on ‘his side of the bed’ but both of them had settled onto their respective sides of the mattress, and fell asleep there.

Or at least, Neku had. Beat had been mentally replaying his conversation with Shiki over and over in his head, wondering how the hell he was gonna go about acting on the things they’d spoken about, when he had heard Neku mumble in his sleep and turn over.

Beat had known what was coming next this time, but it still didn’t leave him prepared for the jolt that snaked through him when Neku nestled up against him. The hand he’d rested on Beat’s chest felt like it left burn marks on his skin, even through the flimsy fabric of his vest. It was the easiest thing in the world to pull Neku a little closer, allow him to nuzzle into his neck with a sleepy, contented noise, before returning to stillness.

Meaning Beat could feel each little breath against his neck, the soft thud of Neku’s heartbeat beneath Beat’s palm, inhale the scent of his shampoo.

How the hell was he expected to sleep when Neku just felt so good held against him like this? It makes Beat want to savour every second, for fear he’ll never get the chance to do it again.

It also makes him jittery and excited and nervous all at once, in the wake of the conversation he’d had with Shiki. Now that he’d actually admitted to himself that he had feelings for Neku…

This felt different to last night, somehow. Last night he hadn’t been able to put words to why his skin always tingles after it’s been in contact with Neku’s, hadn’t been able to give a voice to it because he’d been so confused, so afraid, but now…

There’s still a little voice of doubt hassling him from the back of his head, trying to convince him that this was wrong, Neku didn’t feel the same way, that he was making a fool of himself, that he shouldn’t kid himself into this being anything more than his friend needing touch after being without it for so long, but…

He’s jostled out of his musings when Neku’s breath catches in his chest. At first, Beat assumes he’s just had one of those weird falling dreams that you always fall straight back to sleep afterwards, but then his breathing becomes strained, as if the very act is a struggle.

That’s enough to have Beat immediately jumping into action mode, grabbing Neku’s shoulder and trying to lightly coax him awake with as much gentleness as his sudden flood of anxiety allows.

“Phones?” Neku’s eyes don’t open, breath quickening into frantic gasps for air. His fingers claw at Beat’s vest.

“Yo! Phones!” Beat shakes him with a little more urgency this time. “Neku! Wake up, Neku, wake up, please —“

Neku’s eyes snap open, his pupils blown wide in terror. His fingers grasp at Beat’s shirt like he’s drowning.

“Beat?”

Beat forces himself to calm, swallows his own fear for Neku’s sake — as difficult a task as it is.

“Yeah, Phones,” he murmurs, cupping his chin with one hand so he can look at him. He strokes his hair with the other, reassuringly. “Is me. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re in Shibuya, in tha’ RG, an’ you’re with me. S’all okay.”

Neku wraps his hands around Beat’s wrists, shaking. Beat can feel his pulse through his fingertips, his heart hammering like some kind of wild animal is trying to escape from his chest.

“Beat,” he repeats, holding on for dear life. “I thought — I thought —“ He inhales a shaky breath. “I thought I was back — back there — and I was so alone, I just —“

Beat is moving before Neku can even finish what he’s saying. He wraps his arms around him, pulling him tight as he scoots them both back against the headboard. It takes a moment to rearrange them both, but Neku is shaking and pliant in his arms, clearly grateful for the contact after whatever his nightmare had held.

Beat settles Neku between his legs, resting his own back against the headboard and wraps himself around Neku protectively. He pulls his legs up, so that both his knees and arms bracket Neku’s sides, resting his chin on his shoulder and hugging him back against him, tight. He knits his fingers between Neku’s, then crosses both their arms across Neku’s chest so that there’s not a single part of Beat that isn’t touching Neku.

“I’ve gotchu’, Phones,” he whispers in his ear, giving his hands a squeeze. “I’ve always gotchu’.”

Neku leans back into him, slowly getting his breathing back under control. He nestles his head back against Beat’s shoulder, like he wants to burrow himself there, his eyes falling closed.

“Beat… Thank you.”

He tightens his hands around Beat’s and Beat presses a lingering kiss against his temple, before taking back up his vigilant stance over the other man.

Other monsters have hurt Neku before.

But now they’d have to go through Beat.

Chapter Text

“With you.
I don’t feel butterflies in my stomach,
no,
I feel a thousand stars
Exploding in my chest
At the same time.”
m.v., 'We are supernova."

***

NEKU

They didn’t really end up getting that much sleep, in the end.

Neku had been too frightened to fall asleep again, and Beat had kept watch over him as faithfully as Hachikō. Each time his eyes fluttered shut, he could hear the whispers of the dead again, their distorted voices begging Neku to tell them where they were. What had happened. Why had this happened. He could feel all that fear, that terror, that desperation — a side effect of too much time spent in the UG, he’d become too attuned to other people’s thoughts, their feelings, that even when he wasn’t focusing, he couldn’t always shut them out. Besides, their cries for help were just so loud… How was he expected to ignore them?

It turned out just trying to pretend that his time on Shinjuku never happened wasn’t a very effective coping mechanism for trauma.

Last night, he could have sworn he was right there all over again. It was so cold, then that wave of that same familiar, profound sense of loneliness crashing over him with such force that he staggered and fell to his knees. Gazing up into that endless abyss of warped sky with dread, pleading with the Higher Plane, no, no, no, not again, I did everything I could, please don’t send me back —

But he wasn’t in Shinjuku. He was in Shibuya, the real Shibuya, he wasn’t dead anymore. He was very much alive and wrapped up in the arms of his best friend, who held him just a little bit tighter each time he felt Neku begin to tremble or his breath falter.

He was safe. He was with Beat. Beat would never let anything happen to him ever again: he’d said as much when he’d pulled Neku into this embrace.

It’s so hard to believe, though. Not that he doubts Beat’s word: he knows Beat would do anything that he could to protect him. But there are forces even stronger than Beat’s loyalty, heavenly beings that keep playing their own strange mysterious games with little regard for all of humanity, let alone one individual’s psyche. How long before he got pulled back in again? How long before they decided to return to wiping out entire cities on a fleeting whim? Were any of them ever truly safe?

And yet, he does feel safe when Beat is holding him like this, limbs and fingers entangled to the extent that he almost can’t tell where one of them begins and the other ends. Beat stubbornly refuses to sleep, despite Neku’s insistence — firmly stating that he wasn’t going to let any more nightmares find Neku, that this is where he wanted to be. Neku knows well enough that arguing with Beat once he’s decided upon a thing is futile, so allows himself the selfish luxury of indulging in Beat’s steady breath against his shoulder, his neck, the impossible warmth radiating off of him, the way he toys with their knitted fingers every now and then.

Had he ever been held like this? It’s hard to remember. Life before the Game could get...foggy, at times. It’s difficult to remember there even was a ‘before’. So many years spent as a tool of the Angels, when he’d never asked for any of this…

Dawn finds them like that, Neku still nestled tight against Beat’s chest, with Beat seated back against the headboard, holding him in silence.

They hadn’t spoken much over the last few hours, bar the occasional reassuring murmur from Beat when he felt Neku start to shake again. Neku can’t help but feel more than a little embarrassed: this whole bed sharing situation had been suggested with the intention to improve Beat’s difficulty sleeping, but here Neku was, keeping him awake the entire night.

He stirs, turning his head a fraction to look back at Beat.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Beat echoes him. “Didju’ end up getting any sleep?”

“Not really,” Neku admits, somewhat taken aback by the amount of concern still blazing in Beat’s blue eyes. “Did you?”

“Nah, but I’m good. ‘Is my day off, then store’s closed tomorrow. Loads of time to catch up on beauty sleep, yo.”

Neku bites back a smile. Trust Beat to still manage to be this bright, even when running on little to no sleep.

“I’m sorry about that, I don’t know what —“

Beat cuts him off immediately.

“Neku.” Neku’s heart gives a small leap, the same way it always does when Beat uses his actual name. “Donchu go apologising on me, man. Everybody gets nightmares, an’ most people ain’t gone through half the shit you gone through!”

He hugs Neku a little tighter against him.

“‘Sides. I’d rather be here than anywhere else — erm. I mean.” His face is turning red. “Like if you was gettin’ bad dreams, I wanna be here to wake you up from ‘em, yanno?”

“Yeah,” Neku replies with a small smile. “I do know. Thanks, Beat. You always… You’ve always had my back. I appreciate it.”

“Always will, yo.” Beat rests his head back against the headboard, rolling it to one side and then the other. “Are you…yanno…okay?”

Neku looks down at his own lap, considering.

“Better, now,” he answers. “It’s just… I thought I could just move on. Not have to think about it any more. But I guess it just creeps up on you anyway.”

Beat’s hand moves to Neku’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly before beginning to knead at the tight muscle. Neku shivers.

“You shoulda told me, Phones.” Beat’s voice is surprisingly soft. “I knew you was keepin’ shit to yourself, but I di’nt…”

His hand stills and Neku’s heart breaks a little at the look on Beat’s face. He knows he’s blaming himself. Beat had a bad tendency of shouldering the responsibility of the world; his own kind of Atlas.

“Yeah. I shoulda.” He reaches up and lays his hand over Beat’s. “I won’t hold that stuff back from you anymore, I promise.”

Beat’s eyes meet his and god, Neku is intensely aware of every single point where Beat’s body touches his. And everywhere that isn’t. Beat’s lips are right there, and Neku wonders what he’d do if Neku grazed them with his thumb. He’s never kissed anyone before — being dead didn’t provide many opportunities for kissing — and had never really wanted to, back when he was alive, but he wants to now. He wants to kiss Beat.

Before he even realises what he’s doing, he is lifting his hand, he is brushing his thumb over Beat’s lower lip, watching in rapt fascination at the way Beat’s jaw drops a little, but he doesn’t pull away. Neku is aware he’s trembling slightly, and he thinks Beat might be too. He can feel Beat’s breathing become heavier, chest rising with each deep inhale, Neku moving with it and is this it? Is this what he should do next?

Should he kiss him?

“Neku…”

They’re interrupted by a yell from the living room.

Neku abruptly drops his hand.

“Shoka.” They both say in unison, eyes growing wide. Suddenly they’re both untangling themselves from one another and scrambling out of the bed as fast as they can, fear driving the speed of their movement.

There’s too many possibilities of bad things that could have happened. Someone could have broken in. A Reaper could have appeared and decided to pull Shoka back into her former employment against her will. Hell, maybe Josh had changed his mind on sparing her, had decided his game was boring now that they’d gone and found Shoka.

Beat is at the door first, throwing it open forcefully, rushing out and then coming to such an abrupt stop, that Neku ends up bouncing off his back.

“Rhyme?”

“Hey, Beat!”

Neku rubs his face and then steps out from around Beat, blinking in surprise at the scene. Rhyme is sitting on the couch casually beside an elated looking Shoka, who is rapidly typing away on her phone. Rhyme arches an eyebrow when Neku appears.

“…and Neku!”

Neku realises what it must look like emerging from Beat’s room alongside Beat, the two of them clearly having just rolled out of bed and flushes. Did she think they were together too? Well, if she hadn’t, she most definitely probably did now.

“What — whatchu you doin’ here? ‘N why was Kitty Girl screaming?”

“Oh, it’s just something I’ve been working on! I didn’t want to lose contact with Kaie when he went to Shinjuku, so… It took a lot of work and modification of Kaie and I’s original code, since Shinjuku doesn’t technically exist anymore. It’s similar to how no one could contact Neku when he was there, it’s sort of like a different temporal plane altogether. But!” She grins, proudly. “I finally cracked it! So I put the code together and made it into an app that Shoka could install on her phone!”

Ah. So that was the reason for the volume of Shoka’s cry. And what she was doing on the phone: no doubt contacting her former family. Her grin is so wide that it’s practically splitting her face, and despite the false alarm — and what she’d just potentially interrupted — Neku finds himself smiling too.

“It’s Kaie! I’m actually talking to Kaie right now!”

“That’s great, yo! Tell Bunny Ears we say ‘sup!”

Neku chances a glance at Beat, who stands there with his arms folded and wearing a grin almost as big as Shoka’s. He knows Beat must be just as happy for their other roommate, and no doubt, proud of his younger sister too for the impressive feat she’d pulled off.

Neku can’t help but wonder what Beat thought of the interruption too.

Shoka giggles, trying to make a face but far too happy to manage to pull it off.

“You’re awful at nicknames, Dai —“

“C’mon! Not funny!”

“— Beat.” Shoka’s face is flushed with happiness. “And Kaie says hello. With a smiley face.”

What’s it like in Shinjuku?” Neku inquires.

Shoka bites her lip, but the question doesn’t seem to trouble her.

“Not too different from how you described it, to be honest. Coco is apparently a big help.”

Beat snorts, his face contorting into a scowl, much like it always did whenever Coco was brought up.

“No way. Pixie Chick actually helping for once?”

Neku shrugs.

“She did all she did to save Shinjuku. Even if her methods were kinda…questionable.”

Beat gives him a withering look, though there’s no malice in it.

“She shot you, man.”

Neku wants to reach out and lay his hand on his chest, try convey that he recognises Beat’s pain through touch alone. Beat doesn’t always like how complicated words can make things at times, responds better to physical contact, something he can understand.

But Shoka and Rhyme are both right there, watching them, and it makes Neku too shy to act. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

Shoka, thankfully, speaks up.

“Now that Coco’s got Tsugumi back, and everyone knows what actually happened, Kaie thinks they’ve a real shot at restoring Shinjuku.” She beams at her phone. “Especially with everyone back together and actually working with one another rather than focusing on the dumb Game… It sounds crazy, but I think they might actually do it. Get Shinjuku back.”

She hugs her phone to her chest, before turning to Rhyme.

“Thank you… Like, so much. This means…”

Neku recognises the little quiver of her lip as she bites down on it. At least this time she’s trying to hold back tears of joy.

“…it means more than you could ever know.”

“Oh, I think I've got some idea!” she titters, covering her mouth with an oversized sleeve. “I had to watch Beat pining after Neku for three years after all!”

“Yo! Rhyme! Quiddit!” Beat’s face is beet red, hands held up as if in defence from further teasing. “Wasn’t no pining, I jus’ was lookin’ for the dude!”

Neku can feel a blush creeping up his own neck, but he’s more distracted by what Rhyme said, and Beat’s reaction. He wonders if him and Beat will get the opportunity to talk today. No, not wonders — hopes. Because Neku’s skin already misses Beat’s, after being curled up against it for so many hours and it’s driving him crazy that he can’t reach out and grab his hand like he so desperately wants to.

A phone buzzes in the other room, the distinctive sound of Beat’s ringtone singing from his phone.

“Shit. I’ll be right back, yo.”

Neku looks back over at Shoka and Rhyme. Shoka is back to excitedly texting on her phone, whilst Rhyme studies him curiously. Neku’s flush deepens, rubbing at his tricep. He’s sure she has all sorts of questions for him, and Neku is grateful for Shoka’s presence for preventing them.

“Aww, man!” Beat’s voice is so loud that it carries all the way from the bedroom to the living room. “C’mon, seriously? Sheeks, yanno she’s just doin’ this to mess wi’ me! Yeah, yeah… I’ll do it, jus’…”

His voice lowers so Neku can no longer overhear the rest of the conversation. He exchanges a puzzled glance with Beat’s younger sister, but she simply shrugs.

Beat returns, looking decidedly irritated.

“I gotta go inta’ work — Miki says she’s sick but I swear she jus’ knows it’s my day off an’ is fucking with me.” He sighs, sagging over. He gives Neku an apologetic, meaningful look. “Sorry, man. Maybe we can do something tonight.”

“What about a rooftop meet-up? We haven’t done one with Neku yet!” Rhyme suggests, cheerily. Neku cocks his head, curiously.

“What’s that?”

“I, heh, may’a bust the lock to the rooftop a few months back. Dragged a bunch of shitty porch furniture up there. Me, Rhyme, Eri, Shiki, we’d go up there with some drinks ‘n jus’ talk about...y’know. Stuff. Stuff we wasn’t able to talk about wi’ other people. Like, uhm.” Beat scratches the back of his head, awkwardly. “Like...you, and how we was gonna find you. That kinda shit.”

“We haven’t done it since you came home!” Rhyme is kneeling on the couch now, holding onto its back. “It would be really fun! Like a celebration of our success!”

The thought of his friends all gathered on the rooftop of the apartment building at night, plotting the best way to find him… Neku swallows, thickly. How did he ever get this lucky, to count these people amongst his friends? What had he ever done to deserve this kind of love?

“I’d like that,” Neku replies, glancing over at Beat. He was going into work after a sleepless night, he doesn’t want to make him feel obligated to do something. “Would you be up for that?”

“Hells yeah!” Beat holds up a fist, grinning. “I’ll have a power nap after work, then we can hit the rooftop! Kitty Girl, you want in?”

Shoka looks up from her phone. Neku gets the distinct impression she hadn’t been listening.

“...huh? Oh! Maybe, I don’t know, Rindragon and I are gonna go look for Tonberries tonight… They’re super rare, and only appear on Sunday nights. Maybe you guys should do, you know, do like an OG thing?”

Beat frowns.

“That some type of other weird universe, like the UG?”

Shoka rolls her eyes hard.

“No, you doofus, it means original gang. Like, Rhyme and Shiki and you two? Whatever.” She looks back at her phone, most likely unaware of the smile that was still glued to her face. “I can, uhm, come into Gatto Nero too, maybe help out if you’re short of staff… Or, you know. If that’s cool. Not like I’ve anything better to do, so I don’t really care.”

It’s hard, biting back the chuckle at Shoka’s failed attempt to feign disinterest, when it was very clear that she obviously cared very much.

“That’d be dope!” Beat enthuses. “Thanks, Kitty Girl. Maybe they’ll lemme go home early ‘n catch up on some sleep.”

Rhyme and Shoka exchange a look, but say nothing.

“‘Aight, well I better go shower ‘n get ready. You good to go, Shokie?”

Shoka gives them both a wry smirk.

“Some of us actually wake up on time because we manage to fit in some sleep during the night.”

That gets another giggle out of Rhyme, and a blush out of Beat. Neku is fairly embarrassed himself, but the way Beat’s ears redden along with the rest of his face is distracting him.

“You — agh, tha’s it, I’m gon’ get ready.” He glances over at Neku. “I’ll ask Shiki in work about tonight if tha’s cool?”

“Very cool.” Neku answers, smiling fondly at him. Is he imagining things, or that blush deepening? He really wishes they didn’t have an audience right now.

Beat ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“‘Aight, Shokie! We bouncin’ in ten. Ready up!”

Beat heads off in the direction of the shower, leaving Neku standing there with both girls staring at him, clearly amused. He shuffles, overly aware of what they were no doubt presuming about the state of his relationship with Beat.

“I’m…” What was he gonna do? He doesn’t exactly have a long list of scenarios he can make excuses for: no job, no schooling, and both Rhyme and Shoka pretty much knew the exact coming-and-goings of every single one of his friends. “...uhm. Gonna get some more sleep. Good seeing you, Rhyme. And Shoka, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

The girls look at one another yet again. Damn, did they really have to do that?

“I’ll see you later, Neku!” Rhyme chirps, giving him a small wave. Shoka smirks at him.

“Yeah, sure. If you can bring yourself to leave that room.”

Neku beats a hasty retreat, kicking the door closed behind him and covering his face with his hands.

He had forgotten what it was like being at the mercy of teenage girls’ teasing.

He falls back on the bed with a sigh, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling before grabbing the nearest pillow and curling himself into it. It smells like Beat — that same cologne, that same hair gel, that same unique blend of scents that just make up the man himself. Neku holds it closer, then, inhaling and allowing his eyelids to slowly shut.

He couldn’t pretend the nightmares aren’t there anymore, that the fear was something he could just shut away inside of him. He knows better now.

But wrapped up in Beat’s sheets, his pillows, the warmth of his body still cushioning the mattress —

He can’t explain it. But everything feels a little safer now.

The last thing he thinks of before he slips into unconsciousness is just how soft Beat’s lips had felt against the brush of his fingertips.

And whether they’d feel quite as soft pressed against Neku’s mouth.

***

BEAT

Beat tilts his head back, and allows himself to drink in the starlit sky.

The sight itself is fairly difficult to find in Shibuya: light pollution meant that even if you were dangling yourself out of the window of his apartment — much like he’s attempted on several occasions — starlight could, and would, elude you.

It was half the damn reason he’d broken open this lock to his complex’s roof. If Neku was out there, what if Beat missed a sign? He was supposed to be wrapped up in some kind of heavenly planes bullshit, which Beat never understood, but if there was any chance of finding Neku…

And so they’d meet up here, discuss their progress in finding Neku but truth be told, all the sitting around and just talking killed Beat. Neku was out there. He preferred to be actively looking for him, rather than sitting around thinking ‘bout how they could go about how to best do it.

But here they are again, Shiki and Rhyme keeping themselves warm with the spare blankets and cushions that Beat had laid out on the ground so that they could lie back and stare up at the sky. Eri had apparently insisted that Shiki also take a night to herself to catch up with the original gang. The Twisters were all up to their own individual antics: Shoka and Rindo off playing their game, whilst Nagi and Fret queued for a live gig performed by some of the EleStra cast.

And now Neku was here with them. They’d found him. They’d actually done it.

He still can’t believe his own dumb luck, managing to stumble into the UG like that. He really needed to thank that friend of his who gave him that damn pin.

He and Neku sit on the two busted old patio chairs, sipping their beers, chatting alongside the girls as they try to get Neku up to the speed on everything he’s missed out on. Beat’s phone sits on the small, shitty circular table between them, blasting music from the playlist he’d made for Neku of all his favourite tracks over the last three years.

“That one’s not bad, actually,” Neku comments, indicating the phone. Beat snorts.

“Not bad? C’mon Phones, that one absolutely slaps!”

“I still think their older stuff is better.”

“Ha! You are like, such a fuckin’ hipster, dude.”

Shiki giggles.

“Oh, leave him alone, Beat,” she scolds him, fondly. “He’s still catching up on the latest trends.” She shoots Neku a mock glare. “That’s how I’m explaining to myself you thinking it’s acceptable to pair one of our coats with Jupiter of the Monkey.”

Neku looks down at himself.

“What? They’re my favourite brand!”

“Oh, you did not just say that!”

Beat throws back his head, laughing. Damn, was it good to have Neku back. They’d never gotten to spend much time together, all four of them, here in the world of the living before Neku’s life had yet again been stolen from him at the hands of Coco. But the banter between them had always felt natural, kind of like they’d always known one another. Even when Neku had been gone, Beat could sometimes practically hear what he’d say during a conversation. Teasing Beat for his sappiness, praising Shiki’s latest designs, or simply laughing along with them when they hung out. It always hurt to look over and see he wasn’t actually there.

But he’s here now.

It’s still so hard to believe. Sometimes Beat finds himself glancing at him just to make sure he’s real.

He realises he’s doing it now, watching Neku’s lips curling into a smile at Shiki. Beat remembers Neku touching his lips earlier whilst gazing into his eyes, and he swallows thickly. What had he been doing? What had he been going to do? He finds himself crossing his legs, jiggling his foot as his heart rate seems to speed up. He’d been so focused at the time on watching over Neku during the night that he hadn’t even thought about how it had felt, having him wrapped up so close to him like that, but he’s thinking about it now. It had felt...natural, like Neku was made for Beat’s arms to hold.

He recalls what Shiki has said to him only yesterday.

You’ve a lot of love to give, Beat. Just allow yourself to receive a little in return.

Beat takes a long swig of his beer. She made it sound so damn easy.

“It’s getting late,” Rhyme says with a yawn, shaking Beat out of his thoughts. “Mom and Dad will be worried if I stay out much longer.”

“Mm, and I should be getting home too. I’ve a meeting early tomorrow morning about opening a store branch in Tokyu Plaza.”

Beat lets out a low whistle.

“Damn, fancy. Ya really moving up in the world, ainchu’?”

Shiki blushes and swats at his knee playfully.

“I’m sure it’s all thanks to my dazzling shopkeep, and his insistence on wearing brands other than ours’ to work.”

“Hey, maybe if ya put more skulls on your threads an’ less pigs…”

“It’s not a pig! That’s it, c’mon Rhyme, I’ll walk you home.”

Rhyme giggles as she climbs to her feet.

“Thanks, Shiki. He only does that to get a rise out of you, you know.” She turns to Beat and leans down for a hug. “G’night, Big Bro!”

Beat hugs her back.

“Night, Rhyme. Donchu let the old man smell booze on yo’ breath or he’ll whoop my ass.”

Rhyme pulls back, lightly punching his shoulder.

“I’m not that dumb!” She turns to Neku. “Goodnight, Neku! It’s really good to have you back!”

“Good to be back,” Neku replies with a gentle smile.

Shiki departs along with Rhyme after bidding Neku and Beat goodnight with a kiss on the cheek, and a meaningful look at Beat. He gulps. No misinterpreting what that meant.

And then, it’s just the two of them, alone.

Alone for the first time since this morning, since they’d been interrupted by Shoka from whatever…that had been.

Neku is silent for a few moments, before speaking up.

“It’s getting cold. Wanna take the girls’ blankets?”

Beat glances at the pile of blankets and cushions left on the ground and feels his pulse quicken. Oh man. He can feel something is going to happen, he just doesn’t know what.

He clears his throat, forcing himself to try and speak with a casualness he doesn’t actually feel.

“Sure, dude. Is pretty cool gettin’ t’lie down and look at the stars here, y’don’t really get that view anywhere else in the ‘Buya.”

Neku chuckles, pulling himself out of the chair and settling himself down on the blankets.

“Mm. Prime real estate, a Beat Bito exclusive then?”

“Hells yeah it is!”

“I feel honoured.”

Beat awkwardly sits himself down beside Neku, trying to make himself comfortable. He lies back on the blanketing, tucking his arms behind his head to make a pillow for his neck. After a moment, he feels Neku lie down beside him, one arm behind his head, the other on his chest. It’s reminiscent of that first day Neku had moved in, back on Beat’s bed. They’d been interrupted then too, he realises. Just as he had been about to tell Neku how much he’d missed him.

He should tell him now.

“I missed ya, Phones.”

Neku turns his head, but Beat keeps his own gaze glued to the sky above them.

“I missed you too, Beat.”

“No, like… I really missed ya. We all did, but… I dunno. I watched ya die and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Jus’ like wi’ Rhyme. All I could think ‘bout was gettin’ y’back, an’ now you back…”

He takes a deep breath. Damn, but his heart was going like a freight train. He half wonders if Neku can hear it.

“…now you back, an’ I can actually think about why I couldn’ think about anything else but findin’ ya… I means, I felt kinda ‘sponsible for it but it wasn’t just that…”

A shooting star falls across the sky in that moment. Beat hopes it’s a sign. His mouth feels awfully dry all of a sudden.

“You…you got me feelin’ things for ya, Phones, things I ain’t ever felt about somebody before. I di’nt know what they was, not at first, but…”

He swallows.

“I think I do now. An’ I’m tryna figure out if you…you feel those things too. ‘Cuz sometimes it feels like y’do, like this mornin’ and —“

Neku props himself up on one elbow, and then all Beat can see is Neku gazing down at him. He doesn’t know what to call the look on his face: soft and curious and thoughtful all at once. Beat’s chest tightens, meaningfully. He hopes he hasn’t gone and made a damn fool of himself.

“Beat…”

Neku trails off, lifting a hand to brush Beat’s hair out of his eyes. His knuckles trail down his cheek, lingering on the line of his cheekbone and now there’s a touch of awe to his expression too, so much so that Beat’s lips part to let out a soft gasp.

“Is this…is this okay?” Neku asks him, and Beat is taken aback by just how nervous he sounds.

“Yeah,” Beat breathes, reaching up himself to skim his fingers lightly over Neku’s jaw. “Yeah, Phones. This is okay.”

His hand slips around to clasp the back of Neku’s neck and Beat pulls him down for a kiss.

Neku’s lips are even softer than Beat had imagined, meeting his own with only the barest of hesitations before kissing him back. Neku shifts his weight so that one hand comes to the side of Beat’s face, cupping it gently as he kisses him harder. That’s enough to make Beat gasp again, this time against Neku’s mouth, his hand sliding up into Neku’s hair to pull him a little bit closer and deepen the kiss.

Beat had thought Neku had a mouth made for smiling. That much remained true, but he was fast learning that Neku also had a mouth made for kissing.

He’s never kissed anyone like this before. Never kissed anyone so softly and so indulgently that he’s wanted to savour every moment of it, sear it into his memory so that it never leaves him, not ever. Never felt so aware of each subtle movement, each stolen breath, each brush of his tongue and nip of his lips. He feels drunk on it, swept away with no desire to ever return to shore. He would kiss Neku forever, if he could.

Eventually, however, they break away for air, both of them more than a little bit breathless. Neku rests his forehead against Beat’s, lips just a hair’s breadth from his, the feel of his eyelashes fluttering open gently against Beat’s cheek.

“I’ve never done that before,” Neku admits, and Beat feels his heart swell with a stupid kind of pride. The thought that he was Neku’s first kiss… It makes him want to pull him back in, kiss him for hours, lay claim to those lips as his, now and forever.

Instead, he smiles.

“You’re pretty damn good at it.”

Neku huffs a laugh, caressing Beat’s cheek. Beat nuzzles into it, feeling light-headed on the sheer thrill of it all.

“Not so bad yourself,” Neku teases him, smiling and leaning back in to kiss him again. When he does, Beat grabs him and rolls them so that they’re both on their side. Neku laughs against his mouth, and Beat takes advantage of the fact, slipping his tongue past his lips. Then they’re kissing again, and Beat doesn’t have space for coherent thought anymore. All he can think of is Neku’s name, over and over, a low chorus of Neku, Neku, Neku.

When they break apart after what must have been several minutes but still feels like too short a time, Neku blinks his eyes open at him and smiles, shyly.

“What you said…about all those feelings and stuff… The answer is yes, by the way. I feel the same way. If that isn’t already obvious.”

Beat chuckles, toying with the hair at the back of Neku’s neck.

“Mmm, maybe. Still good hearin’ it though.”

Neku manages to shuffle even closer to him, and Beat protectively wraps an arm around his waist. He’s gone without touching Neku for so goddamn long, he isn’t ever letting go of him again.

“What… What do we do now?”

Beat squeezes his waist.

“More’a this, I was hopin’.”

Neku laughs and it’s just such a delightful noise that Beat has to kiss him again.

“I mean,” Neku murmurs against his mouth, breathlessly. “In general. What does this…” God, it’s so endearing how red he turns when he’s embarrassed. “…well, what does this mean?”

Beat considers the question for a moment, then grins at Neku.

“It means nothin’ too much changes. You keep livin’ wi’ me, if you wanna, we still keep on enjoying gettin’ to both be alive, and,” he pulls him closer still. “I get to do this much as I wanna.”

His lips find Neku’s again, and fortunately, Neku seems just as eager to kiss him back, tangling his hands in Beat’s now considerably disheveled hair. This time, when they kiss, it’s clear both of them have no intention of ever letting go.

It might have been minutes. It might have been hours. Time seems to stand still when Beat kisses Neku, the rest of the world ceasing to exist, but at some point Beat is forced to reluctantly part, if only because breathing was apparently a necessity his body demands. It does, however, give him the opportunity to gaze into those deep blue eyes of Neku’s, his kiss-swollen lips, the glow of his freckled skin beneath the light of the stars.

He’s never looked so beautiful.

Beat finds Neku’s hand and twines their fingers together, bringing them up and holding them between them.

“I got your back, Neku,” Beat murmurs, not failing to notice the little shiver Neku gives whenever Beat uses his actual name. “Now ‘n forever. You ain’t just my friend anymore…” He grins. “…you’re my partner.”

Neku’s face lights up, brighter than any star in the night sky above them.

“Partners,” he repeats, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against Beat’s. “I like the sound of that.”

Beat captures Neku’s mouth again, and kisses him as hungrily as if there was no tomorrow.

Except, there is one. And Beat doesn’t stop kissing Neku until the sun crests Tokyo’s skyline. And then he kisses him a little bit more.

They’ve a lifetime of kissing to make up for.

Beat intends to make the most of every second of it.

Chapter Text

“We were together.
I forget the rest.”
- Walt Whitman

***

NEKU

“That’s…uh, nine Justice burgers to go,” the waitress informs Beat, shooting a skeptical look at the pair of them. “And…thirteen freedom fries?”

“Yeah, ‘n the three Cheesy Champions?”

“Uh, yeah, comin’ right up.”

The Justice Burger server gives them both another once-over, before darting back into the kitchen. Neku snickers, and squeezes Beat’s hand between their intertwined fingers.

“I think she thinks they’re all for us.”

Beat grins, nudging him with his shoulder.

“I could demolish nine burgers, easy. She underestimatin’ me, yo.”

Neku shakes his head wryly, albeit unable to keep the smile from his face. He’s finding that it’s hard to keep smiles away most of the time these days. Especially around Beat.

“I think Nagi would have you beat.”

“Yo, jus’ cuz she thinks a goddamn alligator is tasty, don’ mean she wins the iron stomach contest!” He waves the hand not holding Neku’s. “‘Sides, she likes all sorts’a weird healthy shit. Like those damn grass smoothies.”

Neku smirks and leans in to kiss Beat’s cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Beat’s blush creeps all the way up his neck and to his face.

“Ain’t jealous! Jus’ got good taste.”

All the same, he sneaks in a kiss before Neku can turn back to the pick-up booth.

“Three Cheesy Champions!” announces the cashier, plonking the extremely large bag of food down on the counter in front of them. “Enjoy!”

“We will!” Beat enthuses, grabbing the bag and holding up that same hand to give a wave goodbye. A small thrill runs through Neku when he realises the lengths Beat goes to in order to never let go of his hand.

It’s not even been a day since they confessed their feelings, and yet, they move like it’s always been like this. In a way, it has: even during the times they were apart, they were still Beat and Neku. Almost like one word. A team. A partnership. No matter what happens, they’d always find a way back to one another. They’d already proved that.

Beat grins at him.

“Ready t’bounce?”

Neku nestles into his side.

“Ready.”

They set off in the direction of Miyashita Park, hands still firmly clasped together. Funnily enough, it had been Shoka’s idea: a picnic at the park, all the Twisters and the “OGs” as she referred to them, for a picnic. Rhyme’s app had had a visible effect on her, with much of her previous spark suddenly and vibrantly restored. It was wonderful to witness, watching her skip around the apartment in the morning, only to turn and become immediately flustered at the fact she’d been seen in such a state of happiness. Not that either Beat or Neku would ever say anything: they had both come to love their roommate, in their own fashion. It was a shame to think about her ever leaving, but no doubt she’d be happier living along with her former idols.

“You know,” Neku remarks, craning his chin to look up at Beat. “If you keep insisting on carrying everything, I’m never going to put any muscle on these ‘twig arms’ you keep mocking me over.”

Beat snorts, purposely shouldering up the bag of food and bag of drinks he carries on his other arm.

“Too bad. I like spoiling ya, Phones.”

He chases his statement with a quick kiss to Neku’s temple, which has Neku blushing so badly that he’s half-surprised he isn’t attracting the attention of passer-by’s.

“Sap.”

“I ain’t no sap, yo!” Beat insists, tugging Neku tighter against him. “You’s just special, y’know. Deserve some special treatment.”

Neku nudges him in the side.

“Sap.”

As soon as they walk through the Park gates, it’s easy enough to spot the rest of their crew. Everyone is spread out over a picnic blanket, so engrossed in conversation that it takes them a minute to notice Neku and Beat even approaching.

It’s Fret who notices them first, glancing over his shoulder initially, then startling upwards and straight-up staring. Neku’s keenly aware that his reaction has everything to do with the fact Beat and Neku are walking towards them hand-in-hand, and he instinctively feels the urge to duck behind the collar of his coat. Beat gives his hand a reassuring squeeze and all of a sudden, stupid notions such as embarrassment all seem to go out the window. What were people’s stares, compared to the warmth of Beat’s hand? The steadiness of his smile? What were they compared to Beat?

“‘Sup, Twisters! Eri, Sheeks, Rhyme!” Beat greets them all with a casual wave, his other hand still gripping Neku’s tightly.

Fret is still ogling them. Shiki is beaming. Rhyme is chuckling. Shoka is glancing between them all in confusion.

“You are dating!” Fret blurts out all of a sudden, leaping to his feet and pointing an accusing finger at Beat. Neku is extremely confused. “Aw, man, not cool, I felt like such a dickhead after we talked! Totally not funny!”

Beat looks abashed for some reason.

“We wasn’t then,” he tells the younger teen, “but we is now.”

Rindo’s eyes widen, turning and pointing his own accusatory finger in Nagi’s direction.

“You owe me ¥500!”

Nagi takes a sip of whatever she’s drinking, calmly.

“How do you presume that?”

“Because you said they were together!”

“They are indeed.”

“But not then,” Rindo complains. “Which means I basically win the bet!”

“We never specified the influence of relativity into the bet.”

“Wait,” Shoka interrupts. “You guys weren’t together?! But — you —“

Shiki pointedly clears her throat.

“What matters is that they’re together now. And we should be very happy for them!”

She looks at Neku, fondly. It makes that tiny part of him feel crazy all over again for being so fortunate to have friends like these.

“Maybe we should just let them sit down.” Eri suggests helpfully.

“An excellent idea, Lady Eri.” Nagi concedes, shuffling over on the picnic blanket to make room for the pair of them.

Beat sets the bag of food and drink in the centre, before settling himself back down onto the blanket. He pulls Neku with him, arranging themselves so that Neku is seated between Beat’s sprawled legs, his back pressed up against Beat’s torso. Beat hugs him close, even now, as if afraid that he might disappear if he doesn’t.

Shoka rolls her eyes.

“Ew. I thought you guys were bad enough as it is. Is this only gonna get worse?”

“Oh, let them have their fun, Shoka,” Eri titters, laying a hand on Shiki’s knee. “From what I hear, they have lots to catch up on.”

Neku is well aware his face is glowing red, but for whatever reason, he can’t really bring himself to care.

Especially not with Beat’s chin nestled on his shoulder, so close that he can feel every smile.

Like the one he’s wearing now, grinning at the group as he holds Neku a little tighter.

“Complain all’s you like, but we brought the food, yo. Giz’zus a lil’ credit.”

“A valiant point,” Nagi announces, seizing upon the bag. “Shall we feast?”

And feast they do, everyone chowing down on their burgers, although Beat refuses to let go of Neku even for that, ends up holding up fries for Neku to bite between fits of laughter.

Shoka makes a face, leaning back and sipping her drink.

“Oh my god, you two are like, total saps, y’know? Can’t believe I have to live with this.” She accentuates her point with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“About that,” Shiki remarks, fidgeting with her drink. “I think… I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience, Shoka, but Eri and I have to put the apartment search on hold, at least for a little bit. The meeting about the potential Tokyu Plaza store went really well today, and…I’m really sorry, but if we don’t act on this now…”

Shoka looks startled. Neku gets the strangest suspicion that she’d forgotten about that plan for changing their living arrangements altogether.

“Oh — uh, sure, like — uh. I don’t want to…” Shoka shifts, uncomfortably. “I don’t wanna, like…put anyone else out or anything.”

“Ain’t puttin’ us out, Kitty Girl!” Beat immediately asserts, in between mouthfuls of burger. “In fact…you’s gotta place with us long as ya want! I mean, uh…” he trails off, glancing at Neku.

Neku just smiles, grasping the hand Beat has curled around his waist.

“You’re the perfect roommate, Shoka. We’d be happy to have you as long as you like.”

Shoka flushes a bright shade of crimson, pulls at the ears of her hoodie. But for once, she doesn’t try to hide her face with the hood.

“…’spose you two aren’t like, too totally lame.” She does her best to feign a frown, stubbornly stabbing her fry into sauce. “...so like, whatever. I’m chill staying there. So long as —” she points the fry at them, in accusation. “You aren’t like, this much PDA all the time!”

“No promises there, Kitty Girl,” Beat chuckles, pressing a kiss to Neku’s temple. “S’like Eri said, we got a lot to catch up on.”

Neku’s heart gives a mild flutter at that, and he bows his head, tucking his chin to his neck bashfully. Yet when Beat gives his hand a squeeze, checking if he’s alright, he tips his head back and grazes his lips over Beat’s jaw. He can’t believe it took him this long to kiss him. He can’t imagine a time anymore when he wasn’t kissing Beat.

“Ew!” Shoka exclaims, but her giggle betrays her. And as easy as that, they all relax into their usual banter, Rindo and Shoka showing one another their phones to point out nearby creatures in FanGo, Fret digging his elbow into Rindo’s side at some joke Nagi makes, Rhyme relaying Kaie’s messages from Shinjuku, Eri and Shiki leaning their heads together and stealing a few kisses of their own.

And most of all, the feel of Beat’s body pressed against his. Beat gesticulating, laughing, Beat cuddling him closer, like he refuses to let go ever again, pressing his lips against Neku’s neck, his jaw, his mouth at every chance he gets.

Neku looks at their group and thinks of Pangaea in reverse. Of something broken, shattered apart across impossible distances. How cracked pieces of a thing could eventually reform, become something even stronger, more complete. Of kintsukuroi, and how much more magical something could be when it becomes a part of a whole, all the more beautiful for having been broken before.

He curls into Beat’s lap, nestling into his neck.

Of all the possible worlds out there, they’d found one another.

And for the first time in his life — he feels whole.

That is more than enough.

********************************

KARIYA

“Barf.”

Kariya swirls his strawberry lollipop across his lips, before pulling it from his mouth with a smirk.

“It was your idea to come here, girl,” he reminds her fondly. “Wasn’t exactly on today’s schedule.”

Uzuki flashes him a murderous look. Not that Kariya minds. He’s well used to them by now. He’s learned to read each and every one of them, and he’s pretty confident that this one was one of her ‘I-will-kill-you-but-with love’ death glares.

“I just!” She stomps her heel, furiously. He can tell that the treacherous flush creeping up her neck is only infuriating her further, which makes this all the more amusing. “I just — ! They — they did us the favour of saving Shibuya twice now, I thought maybe we should check in, you know?”

Kariya clucks his tongue around the lollipop between his teeth.

“Mmm, I dunno. If I were a more cynical man, I might wonder if our Game Master had gone soft on us…”

And there’s the murderous look that spells out ‘I-am-going-to-kill-you-slowly-and-I-will-enjoy-it’, which is precisely the moment Kariya knows to cease his teasing.

“...fortunately, I’m not that man. I’m just a poor old Reaper, following the whims of his Game Master.”

Uzuki scowls, but she looks significantly less like she might erase him at a moment’s notice.

“Well, we’re done here,” she asserts, folding her arms and glaring down at the group of kids gathered in the park. “The little twerps aren’t going anywhere right now, so I don’t have to worry about any super talented Players or one of the Angels’ proxies messing up my Game.”

“Uh huh. And that was exactly why we came here.” Kariya discards his lollipop stick, and begins unwrapping a new one. “For the sake of the Game. Not your own peace of mind.”

She whirls around, teeth bared.

“I could erase you right now, you smart-mouthed…!”

He smirks.

“You could. But you won’t.”

She falters at that, only barely succeeding in biting back a laugh as she composes herself and looks back over at the group of kids.

“Only because of the free ramen. You make terrible choices in bets, you know.”

“I just like seeing you squirm.”

She swats at him, red-faced.

“Shut up! Speaking of ramen, don’t you owe me a bowl?”

“As always.” Kariya gives a mock bow, and gestures in the direction of Suzu Slurps. Uzuki makes a face at him, before beating her wings and taking off into the sky.

Kariya pauses for a moment, as he savours the taste of his fresh lollipop.

It’s been some time since he’s been alive, but watching those kids down there — it brings back memories. Not that he’d ever go back, but — he can’t help but grin at just how much life, how much Imagination was resonating from that group alone.

Two in particular, he notices.

Phones and Skulls, so wrapped up in one another that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended.

“Now ain’t that a sight for sore eyes…” he murmurs to himself, taking note of how deeply their Souls are intertwined.

“Kariya!” Uzuki bellows impatiently. “Come on! I’m hungry!”

“Whatever Madame wishes,” he croons with a chuckle, taking flight.

He spares one last look down at the group.

He likes to let Uzuki win their little bets, even if he knows the outcome already. Enjoys just how happy it makes her. He’s always had a keen eye for the best odds — probably one of the reasons they’d tried nag him into the role of Conductor so many times.

Kariya can’t know how things will go. That was beyond the reach of anyone from the Higher Plane, no matter how high-ranking they are.

But after all Beat and Neku had been through, he’d still bet on them.