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Hey, Phones! Glad to see you’re alive and kicking. ‘Fraid I won’t be able to meet you in person for a while yet, but I’ve got a little something special for ya. Your choice what you wanna do with it from there.
Whatever you choose, just remember to enjoy the moment with all you’ve got. S’long as you do that, I have no complaints.
“So, what do you think?”
Neku leaned on the counter beneath the lazy turn of the ceiling fans, a small tasting of coffee spread out between him and his two visitors. He’d already tried this batch and knew exactly what he thought, but he needed another opinion. Or in this case, two.
“This strawberry scone’s tight, yo!” Beat said as he scarfed down another bite. “Ain’t too sweet, jus’ like I like it!”
“That isn’t what he’s talking about, Beat,” his younger sister scolded from the spot next to him. Rhyme cupped her hands around her black-rimmed mug, lifting it up to her nose. She whiffed the steam, slurped it again and, after closing her eyes, smacked her lips, humming in thought.
Neku frowned. He knew all too well what that look meant. He felt the same, after all. “It’s missing something, isn’t it?”
She didn’t need to say anything. It wasn’t right yet. Mr. Hanekoma wasn’t here to teach him, which left Neku to fumble through this whole process on his own. One mysterious, unsigned letter with a key hardly told the eighteen-year-old how to properly run a café.
“It’s still pretty good,” Rhyme reassured him, easing back on her purple stool. While the café had been renovated from Hanekoma’s old spot, it still kept some of the darker aspects of its Mystery Circle days—namely the black and purple cushions and the dark wood counter and tables. It also lost the open-air feel of three years ago, leaving the three enclosed in a cozy, tranquil interior.
“Maybe, but it’s not like what Mr. H used to make.”
“It ain’t gonna be like Coffee Man brewed," Beat said, narrowing a glare at his coffee. He hated it black like that, and Neku had offered to make him something else. Beat insisted on joining in on the tasting, though—and to prove it, he’d guzzled the cup way too fast to taste all the flavor notes. One would’ve thought he’d sucked on a lemon from the hilarious faces he made. Still, his efforts meant a lot. He was just as determined as Rhyme to help with this undertaking Neku had taken on. “It’s gonna be your special blend, yo. You shouldn’ worry ‘bout comparin’ it.”
Rhyme stared at her brother, her mouth hanging open. “Wow, Beat. That was surprisingly insightful!”
“Hell yeah, yo! I’m the master of infrightful!”
“Annd that just ruined it,” Neku remarked, lips turned up as he sampled the coffee again. Beat was right. It wasn’t even that his coffee was bad. It just lacked something. Something familiar, but new. Something him, which, like everything else lately, still seemed to be a work in progress.
“Anyway, you should be proud,” Rhyme said. “I really like your coffee! It’s hard to believe that a month ago, you didn’t know more than how to use a basic coffee pot.”
“Those training videos you found really helped. Though, don’t tell Hachiko Café that I stole their secrets.”
Jokes aside, he truly was grateful. When he’d told them about this project back a few weeks ago, all his friends had chipped in. Shiki taught him how to run a business and found him contacts. The Twisters promoted it with their school buddies, and Beat had even hosted a contest for the local kids at one point to score free items at the café. As for Rhyme, she’d hacked an extensive list of training videos he could use from other cafés. How-tos, recipe tips—the works.
Thanks to them, the reopening had been a smash success. Hell, almost too much of a success. The amount of patrons that’d spilled in had seriously tested the limits of his isolated social skills. But luckily, it’d quieted down since then, giving Neku plenty of time to hone his coffee craft and work on art.
“Your stuff still tastes different from theirs.” Rhyme swung her legs with a smile bright on her face. “I like it better here.”
“Sounds like someone’s biased.”
“It’s true! I might even bring some of my school friends here to study.”
“I’ll save you a table,” Neku said. His gaze then floated up to the speakers. “Hopefully I’ll have the music fixed by then.”
Honestly, that’s the sort of thing he wanted. More than large crowds of busy people, he looked forward to the casual groups that’d come here time and again, like he and his friends did three years ago. That was probably the reason he'd decided to go forward with this, even though he already had so much he still needed to figure out about his renewed life.
“It is pretty quiet in here without any music… You ever hear back from the technician?”
“Yeah, he said he’ll come tomorrow. I already have a playlist ready and everything. I’ll probably have Beat check it later.”
“I look forward to hearing it, then!”
“Speakin’ o’ which, did ya ever decide on the name?” Beat asked. “Or you gonna keep it ‘WildKat’ like the H-man?”
Right, WildKat.
Neku drummed his fingers along the countertop. He could rebrand it. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered it. He was technically the owner now, free to do as he pleased. Leaving his mark on the place was easier said than done, though. Mr. Hanekoma could still come back one day and want to run it like he used to, to help Players survive the Game and give Reapers a place to relax…
“Guess I’m still not sure,” he said after a moment. “It’s not like it’s fully mine. I wouldn’t have been able to open it back up if Mr. H hadn’t left that money for me to use.”
“I don’ think he’d mind, yo.” Beat chewed through another chunk of his scone. “He did leave the joint for ya.”
“Yeah. He probably wants to see what you do with it!”
Neku glanced over at the espresso machines—the very same ones Hanekoma had gotten three years ago after Minamimoto ransacked this place. “I know, but I’m not sure I’m ready to think of a new name yet—not ‘til I hear from him myself…”
“Well hey, at least your apron suits it,” Rhyme teased, pointing to the Mr. Mew insignia stitched into the black fabric. “And practically announces to everyone that you’re dating one of the Gatto Nero designers.”
“You know Shiki.” Neku smiled as he ran his palm over the professionally woven threads. “She just couldn’t make me something without Piggy’s face on it.”
“She stitch the rest a’ your get up, too?” Beat raised an eyebrow at the spiffy blue bowtie over his loose white dress shirt.
“‘Course. She made it comfy to move in, so I can’t complain too much.”
Or at all. It was Shiki’s work, and he’d always proudly rep her clothes.
“That aside, I have some new menu items I wanted you two to try.” Neku stepped over to where he kept the teas and juices. “Thought I might get creative with the cold drinks.”
“You’re doing mostly floral syrups for the lattes, right?” Rhyme sat up, her interest piqued. “That cherry blossom one was really good!”
“Yep, I’ve added rose and lavender, too,” Neku replied as he got busy mixing ingredients. “Among some others.”
“That shit’s safe to eat?” Beat squinted at the in-progress menu. “Hol’ up—you got a latte named after me?”
Neku knew he’d misinterpret that. It didn’t help that the katakana for his name was the exact same, but there was no point calling the red brew something else. “Not exactly, but figured I might as well run with it.” He set a zesty yellow citrus drink in front of Rhyme, only three quarters filled. He drizzled the beet juice over it, then garnished it with a lime as the crimson settled on top. “Not sure what to name this one yet, unless you want on my menu, too.”
When he’d first come up with the idea of using beets and limes together, he thought it’d taste horrible. But a few modifications later, and he had the perfect concoction for his hacker friend. Rhyme curiously sipped it, her eyes lighting up at the odd, yet flavorful delight. “Mmm! This tastes great, Neku!”
“Glad you like it,” he said, getting right back to work. “And for Beat…”
The clatter of ice filled the air, cutting Beat off as he opened his mouth to say something. Once the strawberry-filled mixture was shaken up, Neku poured the red liquid over blackberries, letting the colors blend as he served it up. “Not too sweet and has a bit of a kick.”
“You serious? Let me try.” He scooped it up to gulp some down. Neku’d gotten a tip from the girls that Beat liked strawberries. He just hoped it worked well with this combo.
He didn’t have to ponder it for long. His friend slammed the half-empty glass back on the counter, a wide grin on his face. “Damn, yo! This shit’s sick!”
“Better than the coffee?”
“Better than anythin’ they’ve got at Hachiko Café, tha’s fo’ sure! Same for your coffee, yo.”
“Thanks. Who knows—maybe I’ll be the hit spot on Cat Street. Especially for Players and—”
The door flew open. “Neku Sakuraba!”
Speaking of Reapers. Uzuki fumed in the doorway, her sharp nails clawing into each side of its frame. If she were any more upset, her veins might’ve burst from her forehead.
“Oh, hey,” Neku greeted, not at all put off by her sudden entrance. “You got my decal yet?”
“What we have is a problem, and you’re responsible!” Uzuki hissed as Kariya slipped in behind her.
“You feelin’ okay, Pinkie?” Beat asked. “Neku ain’t even in the UG to screw you guys over.” He paused. “Wait, how you in the RG?!”
“We can go between planes freely again,” Kariya answered with a shrug. “And we brought this.” He began handing an envelope to Neku, only for Uzuki to whack his arm away.
“We need to talk first. If we give you this, we can’t have you interfering in the Game! Giving Players a bite to eat is one thing, but ruining our missions?!”
Oh, so that’s what this was about. Three years in Shinjuku hadn’t left Neku completely ordinary, even if he couldn’t use psychs anymore. Sometimes he just got a read on people without always needing or wanting to. Involuntary, instinctual scanning, for lack of a better description. Like this morning, seeing that young woman sobbing by the curb… It was almost like could sense her Soul being ripped apart, its shreds left for scraps.
“How was I supposed to know your whole mission hinged on one person? All I did was talk to her about her break-up. Don’t you have a back-up plan?”
“We’re on day five, you know! That woman was perfect for bringing in a ton of powerful Noise!” Uzuki complained. “Now it’s almost noon, and we still don’t have another prime target! Since when did you become a life coach?!”
Beat snickered, taking another sip of his drink. “Sounds to me like you fools need more than jus’ a one-trick elephant.”
“Oh yeah, wise guy? Sounds to me like the ex-fresh meat needs to make up for his failed Reaper days by putting in some overtime!”
“Wha?!” Beat recoiled. “Yo, I ain’t helpin’ you erase a bunch a’ Players!”
“Oh come on, it’s not like you’re actually erasing them. You could be a moving target they have to catch or something! You know—Reaper Sport 4! The one you totally screwed up last time!”
“Yo, I ain’t playin’ your crazy-ass Reaper sports! I already got chased around enough durin’ that screwed up mission them Shinjuku Reapers sicced on me!”
While the two of them argued, Kariya took a seat next to Rhyme. “You got anything good? Maybe something to cool down after a hard day’s work?”
“Like you’ve even been working,” Neku quipped.
Kariya chuckled. “Touché. Still, it’s hot out there today.” He eyed the menu, not bothering to take his lollipop out of his mouth. “Maybe this purple-orange one? Reminds me of a former Player that’s still giving us trouble.”
“It’s my specialty,” Neku joked, setting out the orange juice and the butterfly pea tea. It was a simple drink, but his personal favorite. He soon traded the colorful drink for the decal, hiding the precious package behind the bar before Uzuki could notice and protest it.
It was a good thing he worked quick. As soon as Kariya put the glass to his lips, Uzuki turned on him like a hawk diving on its prey. “Kariya! What are you doing?! We’re not here to give him our business. We have a mission to figure out!”
“We’re still short on ideas, aren’t we?” Kariya pointed out. “Relax a little, and it might just come to you.”
“That’s not—I can’t—ugh!” Uzuki plopped down beside him, pouting as she folded her weary arms on the counter. “We don’t have all day, you know.”
Guess he had another to-be regular, even if this one was partially unwilling. Neku thought fast, though, preparing a chamomile tea for the high-strung workaholic.
“See there?” Kariya drawled, patting her on the back. “Just take a little break. We’ll figure it out.”
The woman made a muffled groan in response. Rhyme, meanwhile, kept her eyes glued on her phone, tapping a few keys with a nod. “Yep, looks like the Players are wondering alright. You only have two teams left?”
Uzuki’s head shot up. “How did you know that?!”
“You’re still using the RNS,” Rhyme answered nonchalantly. “I could reach out and say hi to them if I wanted.”
“Those are some scary hacking skills you got,” Kariya commented. “Still don’t know how you made it back after your Game, but gotta say—I’m kinda glad you did.”
“Wha—Kariya! You can’t say that to ex-Players!”
“Why not? These ex-Players sure saved our butts from that mess the Shinjuku Reapers started.”
“Well yeah, but… They’re breaking all our protocols!”
Rhyme giggled as Uzuki finally received her order. “Glad I could help! Just promise me you won’t play dirty again, and we’ll call it even.”
“Hmph! You’ve got some nerve telling us how to run our Game,” Uzuki huffed, blowing on her tea.
“Better watch yourselves, yo.” Beat threw the pair a smirk. “Rhyme’s on you now, and if she sees somethin’ wack, I’m comin’ for you.”
“We’re doing everything by the book, thank you very much. Besides, you’re not even part of the UG anymore. What’s it matter to you?”
“Someone’s gotta have the Players’ back in your messed up Game, yo!”
“Their back? I’ll have you know that we’ve barely got enough staff to dish out a proper Game,” Uzuki spat. “And then your friend here went and got rid of our mission. So forgive me if I don’t think the Players need any help right now.”
“We are in a sorry state, aren’t we?” Kariya mused, downing the last of his drink. “Doesn’t help that we’ve hardly heard a peep from the Composer.”
It wasn’t just them he was ghosting. Josh had yet to show his face since bringing Neku back to life, making at least one thing consistent from the state of things three years ago. But just like then, Neku still held hope that he’d drop by again eventually. Both him and Hanekoma.
“Probably because the Composer wants to see how you handle it,” Rhyme encouraged, looking up at the two Reapers with a smile. She also knew the truth, but she also knew better than to blab. The four of them—the friends that survived the three week long Game—made that vow years ago, and they weren’t about to break it for anyone. “You have free reign, so it’s up to you to impress him!”
“Rhyme’s right,” Neku agreed. “You’re still figuring things out since the Shinjuku crew left, aren’t you? Their Game was different from yours, but that leaves you in a position to take the best of both worlds. See if you can make it into a Game that helps people grow—to see the true value in living in this world with others… Like I did.”
That’s what you want. Right, Josh?
“Oh-ho, wise words,” Kariya said. “Guess I shouldn’t expect any less from the living legend himself.”
“That isn’t what the Game is though.” Uzuki savored her tea, her eyes sharp as a razor as she, too, likely mulled over Neku’s words—not that she was going to admit it. “It’s just a trial to see who’s worthy of coming back to life…”
“Maybe, but the kid’s right. It could be so much more. We’ve got our work cut out for us if we want to see the Shibuya that sort of Game creates.”
Uzuki sighed. “Which translates to I have a lot of work. But fine. I’ll give it some thought.” She emptied her cup before standing back up. “For now, we need to get back to today’s mission. I’m thinking we can do a little scavenger hunt.”
“What’re they hunting?” Neku asked. He wondered if it’d bring them by the café. He probably couldn't help in the same way Mr. H had helped him, but he was still curious to see and maybe even meet these new Players.
“Mmm… I think I’m going to borrow this.” Uzuki swiped Beat’s skateboard from where it leaned by the exit.
“Wha—that’s my board, yo!”
“Yes, and you’ll get it back when the mission’s done.”
“Aw hell no! Get back here, Pinkie!” Beat called out, but without the boost from his Soundsurf, he was no match for a Reaper. She fled out the door and back into the UG, leaving Beat unable to follow. Judging from how he cursed after her, though, he wasn’t about to let that stop him.
Rhyme hopped up. “Guess I better keep Beat from tearing through planes.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Neku replied, already cleaning up after them. “Just make sure he doesn’t get his hands on another strange pin and we should be good.”
“I’ll make sure the kid gets his board back, too,” Kariya promised. “We’ll be sure to drop by again sometime.”
“Sure, I’ll see you then.” Neku waved, and the remaining two left out onto the blinding street. They were always so full of energy—and perhaps now that he had this café, he could see everyone more, both in the RG and the UG. After his time in Shinjuku, he gladly welcomed any smile, any laugh, even any whisper or loud, bolstering voice.
After three years… alone…
Neku shut off the sink, setting the last dish to dry. He gazed out across the empty café, taking in every desolate seat and lonely table. The graffitied canvases on the walls…
…colorless. They were colorless—the whole café, all at once—it was engulfed in a monochromic haze, drained in an instant of any remaining life. Neku’s throat closed, and he backed into the counter, only to find it rough, as if the chipped fabric of reality had crumbled the edges.
And the silence—that numbing reminder that there was no one else, no one except him, that the people of this city had become nothing more than a sea of faceless souls. Hollow, disembodied voices that couldn’t even utter a sound.
Why? Why him? Why now, after he’d finally found his way back—after he’d finally opened up and accepted others? He clutched his ears, but his headphones weren’t there to save him this time. He had to calm down. Breathe. Center himself.
Focus.
“Shi…Shiki,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and almost foreign as it echoed through the otherwise soundless space.
But that sound was something—proof of life, of his life. As his legs turned to jelly and buckled underneath him, he freed a yell, hoping that loud, unabashed noise would receive an answer—so he wouldn’t be utterly…
“Neku!”
Warm hands grabbed his arms, gentle yet firm. Her face blurred into view, full of color and light, like a beautiful painting brightening up a bleak gray wall.
Shiki… Shiki was here, in Shinjuku…
…No. Neku’s eyes jumped up to the espresso machines, only to find them gleaming just as before atop the clean brown counters. He was in Shibuya.
“S-sorry,” he choked out as he pushed himself up, cradling his head. “I just—I dropped something, and…” He couldn’t look at her. He knew that excuse was terrible, even as it fell from his mouth. He didn’t want her to worry, though. Shinjuku was behind him and he was back in the RG. The fighting was over, and he was here to stay, with his friends…
…at least for now…
What if… it happened again…? If he got dragged back into the UG, sent somewhere where he couldn’t see them, couldn’t hear them… He couldn’t say it would, or even promise it wouldn’t, because he didn’t know. Couldn’t know. No matter how much he wished he did.
Before those dark thoughts could swallow him whole, stirring old scars left burnt into him by bullets, Shiki’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him into the safety of her embrace. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here… and I’m not going to lose you again…”
It was as if she’d read his mind. Her melodic voice and soft touch were enough to ground him in reality once again, no longer imprisoned by the solitude that’d plagued him for so long. He hugged her back, perhaps too tight—but she didn’t complain. She was here, in his arms… He wasn’t alone.
“Thanks,” he eventually mustered, and she shook her head, nestling closer. He wanted to apologize again. She’d only just gotten here, and she was already having to comfort him. So much for being a ‘living legend.’
“What are you doing here? I thought you had those business meetings for another few hours…”
“Yeah, I was just at one in Tokyu Plaza. We have some upcoming marketing campaigns to iron out.” Shiki rested her cheek against his shoulder, her silken brunette strands tickling his neck. “But… something didn’t feel right. I had to come check on you… Eri covered for me.”
Neku shifted to glance down at her. “Is that okay? Won’t you get in trouble for it?”
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m glad I came here.”
Glad she came to find him panicking on the floor? Yet from the kind, supportive grip she kept on him, she was serious.
“I was feeling pretty lonely, too,” Shiki admitted. “I get anxious sometimes, you know… that you’ll disappear… I don’t ever want that to happen again…”
“Shiki…”
She moved away, her vibrant smile mending the fragile rift in his heart. She held up her pinky and said, “If either of us start to feel like that, let’s call each other, okay? No matter what time it is, or what we’re doing… I don’t want you suffering alone.”
A pinky promise? Neku hadn’t done one of those since he was a kid. But with Shiki, he didn’t mind being a kid again. He locked his small finger with hers. “Right. It’s a promise,” he said. Letting her go, he offered her a chair. “Go ahead and sit… I have a drink for you.”
“You sure? You can take a break,” she replied, her worried eyes following him behind the counter.
“When I’m done. I’ve been wanting you to try this.”
As Shiki sat, Neku got to work. All the sounds rose around him like music, from the fridge opening to the milk pouring, even the spoon clinking as he stirred the liquids together.
He was home, in a city full of sound. He could just be himself here and live his life among everyone who cared about him. He topped the mixture with red bean paste shaped like a cat’s head. After sliding it over to her, he rounded the counter to sit next to her, taking his apron off for now. “Well? Does it meet your high standards?”
Shiki took a quick photo, then slowly drank in the semi-sweet milky goodness, letting out an all-too-adorable squeak of glee. Setting it down, she reached over to squeeze his hand. “It’s delicious, Neku! Thank you…”
Shaking his head, Neku intertwined their fingers. “No, thank you, Shiki. I’m happy I’m with you again. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“You better not,” she said in that slightly sassy, yet soft tone only she could pull off. “No one else can make cat-inspired matcha.”
“Pff, cat? That’s a pig,” Neku teased, making Shiki do a double take.
“Wha—but it—the ears are pointed like a cat’s, and…”
She trailed off as Neku’s laughter met her ears. She immediately crossed her arms in a huff. “Neku! My gosh, won’t you ever let that go? We were having a moment!”
That only made him laugh more. Unable to talk, he enveloped her in another hug, one that he didn’t want to let go of for a very long time. If he could just hold her for the rest of his life, he’d never feel alone again—never go back to the empty streets of Shinjuku or have the color fade away. And she returned it, the combined sensations of her warmth, scent, and voice completing him despite his fears.
“Where are Beat and Rhyme, anyway? Did I miss them?”
“Yeah, but they’ll be back after today’s mission.”
“Today’s… mission?”
“I’m sure they’ll tell you all about it later. Beat’ll probably need to get it off his chest.”
Shiki didn’t know how to take that, but Neku didn’t expect her to. He made himself comfortable against her and asked, “How was the meeting?”
“It was pretty boring. Honestly, you saved me a bit by giving me an excuse to leave.”
“I saved you?” He didn’t know whether to be appalled or impressed by her modesty. He was far from the hero for today. “You’re the one who came to my rescue.”
All based on a feeling. That wasn’t the first time, either. She’d picked up on him in the UG without anyone saying he was around, plus her distress three years ago right before he got forced back into the UG… Perhaps there was more to Shiki’s ‘feelings’ than even she realized.
“I’ll always come for you,” she said. “We’ll figure things out together from now on.”
“I really don’t know what I’d do without you,” Neku murmured, more sincere and honest than he even realized—and more scared. He couldn’t let that terror wrap him up again…
“Well, for starters,” she gave his ribs a gentle jab, “you’d be totally fashionless without me.”
“Ouch. I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”
She flicked his bowtie next. “Because you have me. You’d be totally lost on these streets otherwise. The talk of the town—and not in a good way.”
“Heh, since when did you become Miss Confident?” he joked right back at her.
“Someone who was once a little too confident in himself rubbed off on me,” she said, her beautiful brown eyes staring up into his.
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“Maybe it is. I think so, anyway…”
Yeah… Maybe it was. Together, with her and all his friends, he’d figure it out. Not just the coffee, but how to live a normal life again, too. He’d chosen to come to the RG, to stop fighting and live with them—even if sometimes, he felt lost in everything he’d missed, and the reminders of his torturous past three years. But he wasn’t alone anymore. Small moments like this really hammered that home.
“Thanks, Shiki… for everything.”
“Don’t mention it… I’m here for you, now and forever.”
Neku grinned. “Yeah… Now and forever.”
Those words gave him the power he needed—like she’d passed him a light puck through her kindness and love. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he released her and said, “You should get back to your matcha. I can let you try the coffee I’ve been working on, too.”
“Really? Think you got something figured out?”
“Not completely, but it’s getting there. I’ll need to brush up my skills more before Mr. Hanekoma returns.”
Though she sipped her drink with an air of innocence, the amused glint she’d pinned on him didn’t escape his notice. “Trying to impress your idol?”
Neku scratched his cheek, quickly retreating to the back like that’d protect him from her call out. “Well this is kinda his place, so…”
“All right, then—let’s see it. A coffee worthy of CAT.”
His mouth squirmed into a tight line. “It’s not that good yet." He prepped the filter first. He’d do a siphon brew this time. It’d take a bit longer, but with a nice medium roast like this, it might help bring out the finer notes. “It’s still missing something.”
Shiki tilted her head, her bangs still endearingly out of place from their prolonged hug. “Something? Like what?”
Like what? Huh… He hadn’t really considered that in depth before. Each scoop of beans rattled as he added them to the grinder, then turned it on to listen to the satisfying crunch of the beans being ground into a coarse powder. The click of the burner, too, with its fire blazing bright red as he set a glass bowl of water above it.
“Neku…?”
Chuckling, Neku turned back to her, stretching over to fix her hair.
“Art,” he answered simply.
She wrinkled her nose, looking just as confused as before. Perhaps that answer was too abstract. But in a way, coffee was like its own form of art, one crafted by the ambiance of its café. The aromatic smells, the taste, the texture…
Maybe that was it, though. While he’d branched out with his iced drinks, making mixtures his friends loved, he'd played it safe following the training videos for his house blend. It was all so specific in those manuals, but now that he was getting the hang of it, maybe he could enhance it more—add his own spark of creativity to it.
Shiki smiled up at him. “Well, good thing you’re the best artist I know. You’ll definitely figure it out.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m the ‘best.' Not when we both know Mr. Hanekoma.”
“I would. I like your art even better!”
She said that with a surprising amount of conviction given the subject matter. He could tell she meant it, though, and that sincerity warmed his face.
“You dork,” he mumbled, shaking his head as he peered out the front windows. “Mr. H is on a whole other level. I’m not even close.”
But maybe… someday…
That’s when he saw it. A thin sheen of white, refracting the sun. Neku blinked, his steely irises wide with surprise as they followed it on the breeze, drawn in by an all too familiar, beckoning pull.
It was a feather. Just one. It drifted down from the sky above, flowing with the tides of the wind and evaporating before it even hit the earth. He didn’t dare move, stuck staring where it fell, waiting— hoping…
“Something wrong?” Shiki asked, calling Neku away from his thoughts.
“…No… It’s nothing,” he said, sparing one last glance to the world before returning his focus to the coffee.
Looks like their reunion wouldn’t be today. But that was a sign that one day, surely, they’d meet again.
And when they did, Neku would brew him something to be proud of.