Chapter Text
Neku hummed in satisfaction as the last cardboard box joined the stack. He stepped back to admire the small, but gratifying pile polluting the left corner of the new den.
“That’s the last one. What do you think about the place?”
Shiki shut the door behind her and observed the living space. Coffee-toned eyes shifted across monochrome walls and off-white carpet. What she saw was a challenge for both herself, and its new resident. Her voice rang calmly across the empty floors.
“It’s nice, Neku.” She walked further in and peeked into the kitchen, and then the dining room. Neku’s eyes followed her with every step.
Despite having been back for a little over a month now, he still had difficulty believing that exact truth. It was difficult to look away from her whenever they populated a room together; her, especially, who he fought so hard to return to. Beat was easier to stomach, as was Rhyme, and even Rindo and his friends. She became home, at least for the last month. When Shiki and Eri invited him to their home, his gratefulness for her extended well-beyond whatever he thought possible before. It was Shiki who manifested the certainty that he was home for certain. It was that same certainty she offered even then, as they stood in the empty apartment.
“It’s nothing we can’t spruce up,” she continued.
“You mean it's nothing you can’t spruce up.”
Shiki’s laughter warmed him from the inside out. “Yes, that’s what I mean. When you settle in, we can liven it up the place.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” He crossed the threshold into the dining room to hug her quickly and tightly. “Thank you for everything, Shiki.”
“What are friends for?” Her arms locked around him. “Are you going to be alright here alone?”
He said, “Yes”— and believed it wholeheartedly.
Alone had become natural, both before the Game and after. There was little company to be had among the lost Souls of Shinjuku, the occasional visits of a reaper he didn’t trust, and the whisper of an angel lingering on the shell of deaf ears.
“If you need me, you know where to find me. Eri and I are here for you, now.”
Neku pulled away, eyes and expression both impossibly soft for his best friend. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been thinking about.”
“Oh? Do tell, Neku.”
“WildKat,” he said and slid his hands into his pockets. Neku found himself hesitating, unsure of how to ask. “Do you think we could get it up and running?”
She gently pressed her hand against his cheek, starting to smile as she did. “Of course. Is that what you want to do now?”
“It’s a good start.” He nodded and felt a similar expression pull on his lips. “CAT— Mr. H loved it there. It’s the least I can do to keep it functional for him.”
The half-truth was easy to say. Most things, he found, were half-truths since his return to Shibuya. His aunt received only partial truth in regards to his disappearance, as did everyone else who happened to ask what really happened over the last three years. It was dark. Desolate. He was glad to be back, and that was the end of those conversations.
“Then we’ll get it done.” Shiki’s phone buzzed in her purse. “Ah, that must be Eri. I better get going.”
“No problem. Thanks for everything, again. This, too.”
She followed him to the door. His door. “It’s my pleasure, and the least I can do for you.”
“We’ve gone over this. I wouldn’t be here—”
— “without me. Yes, Neku.” Laughter spilled from her lips. “I know. Text me when you get it set up. I want pictures.”
“You’ve got it. See ya, Shiki.”
The door shut after her.
Neku turned to behold his moderate stack of boxes again. His things from a lifetime— from a childhood he hardly remembered— took residence between each stuffing paper. Though he did some of the packing himself, most of it had already been done. His room had been kept untouched for the first year in the hopes that he’d return. By the end of the second, most everything had joined a conglomeration of other unused objects to collect dust in Aunt Mayumi’s storage unit. What remained out were mostly keepsakes to remember her nephew by.
She’d said they had a funeral. He visited his own tombstone. Neither of his parents were in attendance, though Neku didn’t have to ask to know this.
His last three years were explained away by teenage rebellion, pride, and circumstances out of his control. Most of that was truth, but the stinging look of betrayal in her eyes was hard to swallow. It’d been hard visiting her since.
Neku slid off his jacket and put his mind to the boxes. That was easier than wrestling with existence in the RG. What dial kept Shibuya at beneath headphones had been dialed up and down simultaneously. Up in the sense that the city was livelier than ever. More and more people populated the streets and crowded each district with their noise. Down in the sense that none of it could be heard, though. What would’ve disquieted his attitude beforehand hardly had a physical effect. What he could hear sounded hundreds of feet away, even if Shiki was speaking directly into his ear.
The otolaryngologist hypothesized his hearing was stolen by the three gunshots he endured at close range. External aids became the solution.
He worked through the afternoon to set up the apartment. He worked through the week. Shiki came shortly after to decorate the apartment exactly as she promised. He worked through the month to secure WildKat. The next month’s focus shifted to taking a college course to begin catching up on what was missed. Beat joined him for those, eager to continue his own path to completing college-level prerequisites. The next month introduced an art class into the mix.
Work eventually opened at Wildkat. Beneath Shiki and Eri’s official ownership, Neku took over operations. A few baristas were hired for his time away. Even Nagi offered her employment on the weekends. Nagi’s presence ushered in Rindo’s, Fret’s, and Shoka’s. The bond the UG had forced upon them all remained cherished, then.
All but one.
Despite hoping to run into him any time, Josh never showed.
He knew that for Joshua, their time together had most likely, reasonably, come to a close. Poxy no more. The missions he’d needed him for wrapped up in neat little bows. This, however, was not an ending Neku was ready to accept. Not when they both had come so far, with many miles to go.
Joshua had changed since their face-off in Shibuya. Neku had, too. Although Neku was able to finally enjoy the fruits of his labor, Josh had not. And though Neku was well-aware Josh’s “labor” was controversial at best, he had not gotten the chance to fall in love with Shibuya like Neku had. This was the city he chose to save, after all. That thought plagued the proxy. He’d changed Neku just as much as Neku had Joshua.
After a closing shift at WildKat, Neku stood in his dim apartment. Hands neatly untied the apron around his waist and draped it over his kitchen island.
“Alright, Joshua,” he whispered. “I’m ready now, partner.”
His voice held no expectation nor bitterness. It didn’t sting with the loss of three years, nor did it radiate with hope for the future. Rather, as Neku spoke, he did so with certainty and clarity. It was an open invitation.
He didn’t wait for more than a minute for Josh’s arrival. He would come when he was ready, Neku decided, if he would ever be. Still, he’d learned to trust his partner long ago.
This trust extended over four additional months.
Beat and Neku passed their midterms and prepared for finals. WildKat attendance shot up as the colder seasons and holidays set in. This rush around WildKat grew after a quick visit from Shibuya’s new conductor, Uzuki Yashiro. The cafe became officially reaper-stamped. Players and reapers alike filed in and out during Game weeks. The majority went blissfully unaware of the Legendary Player on Cat Street, though some actively sought him out on rumor for advice. He gave it. Sometimes.
Bonds grew tighter. Rindo officially asked for a mentorship beneath Neku. Shiki and Eri announced their engagement. Their little group grew into a family. Monthly get-togethers started occurring, usually on Neku’s coordination.
All was well within Shibuya, if he could overlook the glaring void in his chest.
He pushed his thoughts of Joshua as far as he could when they popped up. Better to focus on more productive things, he thought, than waste time worrying about a possibility.
That night, he was forced to turn the radio station after hearing a song about an angel. He returned to his cooking, fully prepared to tuck Joshua Kiryu into the farthest ends of his mind once again— until a flash of blue filled the apartment.
Neku’s heart caught in his chest from the startle alone. He was thankful to have his back turned, for the smile that spread on his lips was undeniable.
“Better late than never, Josh.”