Archive of Our Own ^beta

Neku is having a rough week.

To be fair, after getting murdered, going through the Reaper’s Game way too many times, and the really angsty mid-teen years, Neku’s life has had a few ups and downs.  But he’s got his art and his music and his friends, and currently he’s also got the really good painkillers, because apparently his leg is broken in three separate places.

It’s livable.  A whole lot of things are livable, with the right perspective.

“Nekuuuu,” Shiki wails from his bedside—possibly because she doesn’t have the good painkillers, or possibly because Shiki believes fervently that she is the only person allowed to suffer in her friend group, ever.  “You have to be careful, Neku!  I keep telling you!”  She shakes him by the shoulder.  “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I’m a normal amount of careful!”  Neku protests as he’s jostled into his pillow.  Shiki is his best friend.  She’s the reason he actually talks to people now, instead of just jacking the volume up on his headphones.  And he loves her so much that when she starts crying, he’d genuinely just rather get hit by a truck again.  Desperate, he looks to the other side.  “Tell her, Beat.  Tell her I’m careful.”

“Oh yeah.  He’s way more careful than me,” says Beat, which is the wrong thing to say, judging by the glossy-eyed stare Shiki fixes on him.  “Like, I rushed big time to get here and everything.”  And Beat skates everywhere.  Even to the hospital. 

“Beat,” Rhyme says, voice staticky over Beat’s phone, which has a screen that looks like it's seen armed combat, certainly not related to anyone being careful.   “That is not the flex you think it is.”

“Rush hour’s good for juking.”  Beat thumps his chest proudly in recognition of having once again cheated death.  Onscreen, Rhyme heaves a sigh.

“Please don’t die,” Neku squints at Beat.  They’re all thinking it.

“Nekuuuu.”  Shiki is shaking his shoulder again. 

(“Oof,” says Neku, as his head is rattled against the pillow.)

“You can’t live like Beat does!  You’re way less coordinated!”

“My coordination is fine,” Neku argues, even as Beat nods along with her.  Neku scowls at him.  Traitor.  Beat just shrugs.

“Like a baby deer, man.”

“I think you’re pretty coordinated, Neku!”  Rhyme says, because she’s the nicest.

Anyway, this is slander because Neku survived the Reaper’s Game three separate times.  He and his totally normal adult deer coordination are capable of crossing the street safely.

“Look,” says Neku, “It was just a freak accident.  Shiki, c’mon.”  He pats her shoulder, mostly to distract her.  The longer she looks at his cast with the saddest eyes known to man, the more seriously Neku has to consider going to hide in a bathroom.  Because it’s Shiki, he even manages a smile.  “See?  I’m right here.  I’m good.”

Shiki’s mouth wobbles a little.  Beat grumbles like he’s unconvinced.

Rhyme says, “I still think I can get out of class, actually.  Are you sure I shouldn’t come to the hospital?”

“I am absolutely sure you shouldn’t come,” Neku says.  “Don’t ditch class.”  Rhyme is coming up on her finals before graduation and doesn’t need the distraction.  Neku is fine.

But he gets it, okay?  They’re all a little protective of each other.  The Reaper’s Game was intense, in a way that forged friendships that will last a lifetime.  It also left them all maybe a little codependent.  Neku knows he would be just as weird if he saw one of them get hurt.

But also, Shiki might cry.  And that’s illegal.

“Just… promise me you’ll pay more attention, okay?”  Shiki stops shaking him and instead goes in for a hug.  Neku’s arms are suddenly full of best friend.  In her own body, Shiki is tiny.  She hugs like a koala.

Neku’s had three years to get used to koala hugs and someone asking about his day and having weekend plans where the people around him actually know his name.  Neku hugs back.

“You’ve been so out of it lately.  You almost cut yourself with the shears at the workshop last week too…”

Beat opens his mouth like he has something to say.  Sensing the oncoming storm, Neku cuts his eyes at him over Shiki’s shoulder.  He gives Beat a faint shake of his head.  Beat’s mouth flattens.

They’re probably thinking about the same thing.  Because when they last hung out, somebody’s window air-con unit slipped loose from six stories up and nearly crashed down on top of them both.

Which had nothing to do with anyone’s situational awareness or coordination or whatever.  It was just… bad luck.

They don’t need to worry Shiki with it, do they?  They definitely don’t need to worry Rhyme.

Neku nods.  “Got it.  Promise.”

Beat says, “Yo, you don’t got nothing on your mind, though, right?  Cause like.  You could tell us, yanno?  About whatever.”

Rhyme nods vigorously from the phone screen.  “You’re our friend, Neku!”

“I hear you.”  Neku offers a hand and Beat fist-bumps him, looking relieved.  Shiki lifts her head.

When she and Beat start arguing about who is responsible for taking Neku home after he’s released from the hospital, Neku lets himself drift.

Beat maybe shouldn’t look so relieved.

The thing is, Neku does have something on his mind.  But it doesn’t have to do with a truck’s breaks cutting out the second Neku tried to cross the road.  It doesn’t have to do with Eri’s giant cutting shears, which got stuck on a seam and nearly ended up buried in Neku’s stomach.  It doesn’t have to do with the air-con unit that detached right over where Neku happened to be.

It has to do with the four other ‘accidents’ he’s had this week alone.  And the ones from last month too.  It might have started even earlier than that, but Neku hadn’t really been paying attention until, y’know.

The first time he almost died?

…It sounds bad when you say it like that, doesn’t it?

He’s not so sure this is bad luck anymore.  And isn’t it funny how whenever Neku has weird, bad stuff happen to him that isn’t a coincidence, it’s always this one guy’s fault?

---

Uzuki steps out of the shadows as Neku strolls into the classy little lounge hidden in the middle of the sewers.  He’s pretty sure this place isn’t actually part of the RG, because someone would probably have noticed.  But it’s always here when Neku comes looking.  He’s not sure what bullshit exactly Joshua worked to give Neku access to it even now that he’s not a Player, but the Dead God’s Pad is weird and off-putting like always.

“Ugh,” Uzuki sneers, crossing her arms at him.  “It’s the self-righteous brat.  Down to one working leg, I see.”

“Great,” says Neku, feeling a little more short-tempered than usual with his crutches.  Then again, politeness has never been helpful with Uzuki.  “Your eyes work.  Now where’s your horrible little boss?”

Uzuki growls, but there is no reality in which she hasn’t sassed Joshua way worse than Neku ever has. 

Kariya comes sauntering out the shadows a moment later, twirling a lollipop in one hand and giving Neku’s crutches a raised eyebrow.

“Dang.  Something got to you good, kid.”  He pops the candy in his mouth as Neku eyes him for a second.  Uzuki’s an open book, sure, but Kariya has always been a little harder to read. 

…Nah.  The surprise seems genuine, and if it isn’t, the disinterest is.

Kariya hates putting in an effort.  Whoever has been gunning for Neku, they’ve been at it for weeks now.  Kariya would already be complaining if it were him.  Neku looks away.

“And after all our efforts to kill you,” Uzuki grumbles, “Mortal life is what beats you up?  Um?  Lame?”

“What d’you want the Composer for, anyway?”  Kariya asks. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” Neku says grimly.  “And this time it’ll stick.”

The Reapers exchange looks.  A tiny giggle escapes Uzuki.  Kariya just smirks.

“Sounds fun,” Uzuki says, suddenly all smiles.  “You know what?  Go right ahead!”

Neku flicks a two-fingered salute before limping inside.  The Reapers are gone the next time he blinks his eyes, but Neku isn’t worried about them right now.  He squints into the eerily hazy light.  Joshua is always here.  Or well, he’s probably not, but Neku has already accepted that Joshua isn’t necessarily bound by things like time and space the way less annoying people are.  If Neku rolls up, Joshua will meet him halfway.

“Joshua,” he calls out, navigating his crutches across the slippery glass floor.  “Come on out.  I’m gonna kill you.”

“Oh?”

Neku misses the second the couch goes from empty to Joshua being draped over it like he doesn’t have a bone in his body.  The aforementioned dead god rolls his head back to fix Neku with a smirk.  The one that goes, I’m so much smarter than you, and cooler than you, and better than you.  Ha ha ha.

That’s Joshua.  Frizzy-haired, barely over a hundred pounds soaking wet, unspeakably obnoxious.  He looks older now than he did when Neku was fifteen.  His fingers are longer.  Sometimes the nails are painted.  He’s pierced his ears.  He has contrived to always be at least one inch taller than Neku whenever they meet up, despite Neku’s recent growth spurts.  It’s all very annoying and probably intentional.  Joshua is already dead.  He isn’t capable of growing any older.  He’s definitely doing this to one-up Neku.

“You know I always welcome assassination attempts from you—”

“Gee, thanks,” Neku says.

“I treasure our every moment,” Joshua beams back.  Neku rolls his eyes. “Anyway, this one is quite a surprise.  Care to explain what has you in such a tizzy, partner?”

As he says this, he gazes at Neku’s crutches with the kind of half-lidded delight reserved for when the neighborhood stray cat comes up to say hi all on its own.  He just looks so happy to be able to bully Neku over severe bodily harm.

Neku scoffs, and bullies Joshua right back.  He does the unthinkable—he looks away. 

Hey, Joshua craves attention more than life itself.  Quite literally, as a matter of fact.

“I think you know.”

“As flattered as I am by your opinions,” says Joshua, shooting upright the second Neku isn’t looking at him.  Neku smirks inwardly.  “I’m not all-knowing just yet.  So if you would like to elaborate—?”

“Murdering you is for self-preservation,” says Neku, glancing back.  And, “Look, are you or are you not trying to kill me?”  Joshua’s eyes snap up to his.  “Again,” Neku adds, but the venom in his voice is mostly for show and Joshua knows it.

The thing is, Neku actually is Joshua’s friend.  Not like his college friends.  Joshua is a friend like Shiki, like Beat and Rhyme.

Neku is even capable of admitting it out loud, probably, under the right circumstances.

Because Neku actually likes Joshua.  His taste sucks, okay?  But there is probably no world, no set of circumstances where Neku meets Joshua and doesn’t grudgingly end up liking this jerk.  Neku is pretty sure about this because the actual circumstances were Joshua murdering him, cheerfully lying about it, and then trying to trick Neku into either destroying Shibuya for him or shooting Joshua instead. 

Liking Joshua under any other circumstances would be easy by comparison.

Right.  Anyway, Neku’s mad at him right now, so he refuses to let himself relax into their usual banter.  He frowns instead.  Joshua has been dead too long for the normal rules to apply—maybe he wasn’t even alive long enough for it.  So even though Joshua cares, is he capable of killing Neku as part of some stupid joke?

Yeah.  And he’s capable of lying to his face about it too.  Neku really wants to believe they’re past that.

But Neku’s not an idiot.

Joshua blinks at him for a moment, then swings his long legs off the couch and glides to his feet.  He stretches as he says, “If I was trying to kill you, would it end with you on crutches?  Really, Neku.  Give me some credit."

“Josh,” Neku says, and he doesn’t have to try very hard to sound exasperated.  His shoulder aches from limping his way here.  His leg has this constant, low-grade throb of pain climbing up his hip.  The other day, there was an electrical fire in the department store he visited with Rhyme, and Rhyme could have gotten caught up in that.  It’s not a game anymore.  “This isn’t funny.  Knock it off.”

“Au contraire; I think it’s very funny,” Joshua snickers, and abruptly he’s in front of Neku.  Neku startles—barely managing not to slip on the glass floor.  A hand snaps to his hip to keep him steady. 

“The sofa’s three feet away,” he points out.  Why even bother teleporting?

“But you looked so lonely, Neku,” Joshua giggles.  He doesn’t let him go.

Neku is left glaring as Joshua peels a lock of hair off his forehead, studying it like crime scene evidence.  “You’re all sweaty,” he chides.  “How undignified.  What will your fans think?”

Neku swats his hand away.  “Quit it.  If you need my help with the Game, then say so,” he says.

The Reaper’s Game isn’t—he doesn’t want to go back.

But.

“But you have to tell me, Joshua.  If you spring this on me,” Neku takes a breath, lets that spread a cool wave of calm focus through him, and uses that to hold Joshua’s amused stare without his temper rising.  “If you lie again—we’re done.  I’m there if you really need me.  But you don’t get to mess with me like that.”

Joshua, poised to pick at Neku’s sweaty hair again, pauses.  His eyes dart, and then he takes a step out of Neku’s space.  He frowns.

“Oh, you’re being serious,” he says. 

It’s Neku’s turn to blink. 

“I’m always serious,” he manages a second later.  His brow furrows.  What?  But it—it has to be Joshua.  This can’t be the result of anything but, you know.

Supernatural bullshit.

And what supernatural bullshit goes on in Joshua’s city that he doesn’t at least know about? 

“Boo,” says Joshua.  Once again, Neku’s personal space is forfeit to his nonsense.  Neku leans back against his crutches.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing if you’ve become easy to frighten.” Joshua tilts his head.

Neku bristles.  “I don’t—"

Abruptly there is something dark in the corner of his vision.  It is made of knives and reality bends around it.  Its jaws unhinge, slowly swallowing all of the light as it looms closer, closer, closercloser—

Neku reacts.  He doesn’t aim for the nightmare creature.  He’s pretty sure his fist doesn’t manage to touch Joshua either, but Joshua still flings himself dramatically down on the couch anyway.

“That wasn’t very nice of you, Neku.”

“What the fuck, Josh?!”  Neku lets himself glance around the room, gripping one of his crutches just in case.  He’s prepared to at least make a solid effort of clobbering whatever Noise or… demon Joshua just made him see.

“Well, we’ve established that your reflexes are just fine.”  Joshua gives a delicate little sniff.  He tilts his head at Neku.  “…And that you haven’t grown too soft without my…”  He waves a hand.  “…loving guidance?”

“Try again,” Neku mutters.

“Helpful advice?”

“You’ve never been helpful a day in your life.”

“Now that’s simply not true,” Joshua drawls, and then there’s a grin on his face again that Neku side-eyes immediately.  “But since you have such a bad impression of me, I’ll just have to prove you wrong.  After all, if someone is after my dear, dear partner—”

One day, Joshua will stop purring those words at him.  Neku believes in a kind and benevolent universe.

“—I can’t allow that.”  And all of a sudden, Joshua’s stare goes flinty and cold, and the smile beneath it seems to have a lot more sharp teeth.  “So I suppose I’ll just have to help you catch the culprit!”

“Screw that,” says Neku, but it’s mostly reflexive.  The truth is, Neku being an ex-Player has its perks, but it doesn’t actually let him interact with the UG.  There are the Higher Planes too—Neku has even less of an idea what goes on up there.  If he’s being hunted, he can’t do anything about what he can’t see.

But Joshua has access to Planes Neku has never even heard of.  Joshua has all of Shibuya at his beck and call.  If there’s anything going on at all, Joshua will be able to figure it out.  This actually works out really well for Neku, doesn’t it?

But knowing this is one thing.  Admitting it while Joshua leers at him is another.

Joshua ignores his protest anyway, bounding to his feet to loop an arm around Neku’s.  This is a very effective way to pin him in place, given the crutches.  Neku grimaces.

“What’s with the face?” Joshua chirps.  “You should be pleased.  It’ll be just like old times.  I’ll take on whatever nuisance has decided to inconvenience you, you can owe me forever…”  He snickers.  “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“No,” says Neku, and he’s only lying a little bit.  Joshua leans their shoulders together too, presumably so he can threaten to unbalance Neku against his couch.  Neku refuses to flail.  “Don’t you have, you know—”  Neku’s face heats up as Joshua makes a questioning noise right up against his ear.  “Work?  Composer work?”

Joshua giggles like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.  He also doesn’t answer, so he definitely has work he’s skipping out on.  “Come, Neku.  Adventure awaits.”

As he’s dragging Neku to the door, Neku hears Uzuki sigh from whichever shadows she’s lurking in.

“They could have at least tried to murder each other a little bit.”

Kariya clicks his tongue.  “I know, girl.  I know.”

---

Nothing has tried to kill Neku so far.  It’s unfortunate.  He kind of wishes something would, if only to distract Joshua from emptying Neku’s entire wallet.

Neku groans.  “Haven’t we done enough shopping?”

“No such thing,” Joshua says brightly, continuing to drag Neku in his wake.  Neku would dig his heels in if he had two working legs.  As things are, the best he can manage is an indignant hobble.  “Besides, it’s fun.  And just who asked whom for a favor, hm?”

Who indeed?  “You know what else is fun?  Sitting at the park.”

“No one likes a cheap date, Neku,” Joshua says, cheerfully ignoring his glare.  This isn’t a date, it’s life or death. 

Although again, nothing weird has happened.  It’s starting to get a little awkward.  At this rate, Joshua’s going to think that Neku made it all up just for an excuse to hang out with him, and honestly, Neku would rather just break the other leg. 

Josh is allowed to know they’re friends.  But not that Neku likes him.  Ew, gross.  That would be weird.

“Now, where should we eat lunch?  I’m thinking ramen—”

“We are absolutely not going all the way to Ramen Don’s,” Neku says darkly.  Joshua actually pouts at him.

“When did my partner get so boring?”

“When I broke my leg, Joshua,” Neku snaps.  “It hurts.” 

Joshua’s face goes flat and surprised, but he does stop walking.  He looks down.  Ah yes, look at that.  Neku has legs.  Turns out he isn’t just using crutches as part of yet another particularly inadvisable Shibuya fashion trend. 

Joshua frowns down at them, personally offended by Neku’s broken bones.  “…Hm.”

“What?”  Neku asks, when it becomes obvious Joshua is just going to stand there and stare until Neku runs out of patience.

“I was just thinking,” Joshua murmurs.  “…You were hurt far worse than this in the Game.”

Neku rolls his eyes.  "I’ve gone soft, right?  The RG has already ruined me.”

“I’m glad,” Joshua says in that same quiet voice.  “Pain like this is no longer normal for you.”  And as Neku is reeling from that, Joshua says absently, “Wait here.”  Then he saunters off into the crowd without a backward glance.

Neku scowls after him.  It’s that, or just stand here with his mouth open like a chump.  “Oh, sure,” he grumbles to himself.  “’Wait here,’ he says.  Great.  While someone’s trying to kill me.  Helpful as always.”

Or maybe there’s not elaborate death conspiracy and Neku has just lost it.  Maybe this is all in his head.

…It’s easier to wonder if he’s gone crazy than what Joshua’s little flicker of sincerity could mean.

Pain like this is no longer normal for you.

Neku scratches the back of his head.  He finds an empty patch of curb to sit on in front of one of Shibuya’s endless storefronts.  He hisses as he finally takes weight off his sore leg.  Damn.  Ow.

 The past few years have been pretty illuminating.  Maybe no longer being fifteen is also illuminating.  Joshua hadn’t gotten so sick of his insane job in a vacuum.

“When did you figure out how to say shit like that?”  Neku mutters to himself, propping his head up in his hand.  He taps his good foot against the pavement.  Where’d Joshua go, anyway—? 

And then there’s a little shiver up the back of his neck.  Neku stills.

Neku has learned to pay attention to such things these past few weeks.  The air goes tight, his skin feels like it’s being pricked by needles.  He hears it before he sees it.  He throws himself forward.

The glass storefront behind him shatters spectacularly, and when he lifts his head, there’s—

“Joshua,” he gasps.

Joshua is holding a pair of ice cream cones, standing utterly still.  His eyes are huge.  Neku’s heart drums against his ribs.  He looks over his shoulder.  There’s shattered glass everywhere.

And right where Neku was sitting, the concrete is spiderwebbed with cracks.  On top of it, spitting out a few sparks, is the telephone pole that just came crashing down.

If Neku hadn’t moved, that would have been his head.

Neku sucks in a breath, and manages to draw himself awkwardly upright.  Joshua flickers into existence at his side, ice cream cones miraculously replaced with crutches. 

Neku can feel the faint, vibrating hum of Joshua’s power encircling him.  He gets the crutches under his arms.

“…Interesting,” says Joshua.

---

No one tampered with the telephone pole, apparently. 

“You’re sure?”  Neku asks.  He and Joshua made it to the park after all.  Neku has stopped shaking.  Joshua, impressively, managed not to tease him about it.  Accordingly, Neku will not be hitting him with his crutches. 

 Joshua also produced the ice cream cones from who the hell knows where.  Does it matter?  Not really.  Neku’s is pretty good. 

And so far, nothing else has tried to kill him, unless Joshua putting an arm while they sat around him counted. 

Which it probably did.  Joshua has some kind of special radar for calculating the exact amount of physical contact it will take to make Neku twitch.  He always knows how to make Neku feel like the entire world is definitely staring at him and the blonde twink trying to wrap around him like a boa constrictor.  Neku has gotten used to Shiki’s hugs, Beat’s fist bumps, and Rhyme’s way of finding ways to lean against the people she likes.

But there is no getting used to Joshua.

“Physically, it was undamaged,” Joshua says with a lazy shrug.  “By which I mean, nothing was sawed in half.  I’m sure in a few day’s time the news headlines will say there was something wrong with its installation that caused it to fall.”

“And will that be the truth?”  Neku takes another bite of ice cream.

“The people will have spoken, anyway.”  Joshua peers at Neku thoughtfully.  “There were no signs of tampering from the UG either.  Although…”  He pauses.  What, is Neku supposed to guess?

“Uh… Higher Planes?”  Neku asks.

Joshua laughs like Neku just said something adorable.  Neku glowers at him.  “Dear Neku.”  He pokes Neku on the cheek.  Neku’s mouth is full of ice cream, but he still stares down at Joshua’s finger warningly, because his mouth is also full of teeth.  “The Higher Planes can’t affect physical reality.  Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So they couldn’t have done it?”

“Well,” Joshua says kindly, “I’m sure they could if they were very intent on it.  But the attempt would probably obliterate this universe and a few of its nearest neighbors down to the atomic level, so how about we go ahead and rule that one out?”

Neku shudders.  “So.”  He swallows with a bit of difficulty.  “You couldn’t find anything.” 

Joshua droops lazily against Neku’s shoulder.  “Let’s not give up hope just yet, hm, partner?  We simply need to catch the culprit in the act.”

Before I end up dead, Neku adds mentally.  He clears his throat.  “Guess so.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Joshua drawls.  "Once I find the culprit, this will be over quickly.”

“You sound pretty sure about that,” Neku says.

“Well,” Joshua says, “They’re hiding from something.  Why not the most terrifying being in the city?”  He smiles up at Neku, chin hooked over his shoulder, sandy hair fluttering over his eyes.

“Pretty high opinion of yourself, huh,” Neku mutters.

“Keep up, Neku,” says Joshua blithely.  “They waited to attack until I left your side.”

Huh.

Neku furrows his brow at the Shibuya skyline.  He thinks about it.

“You see?”  Joshua nudges him when he’s been looking away for too long.  “They’re afraid of me.”

Neku considers asking whether Joshua ditched him on purpose to see what would happen.  Still being denied attention, Joshua makes a rather whiny noise of complaint against his ear.  Neku elects to ignore him and finish his ice cream.  “Thanks,” he mutters.  “For uh, you know.  Believing in me.”  He’s aware that his story probably seemed ridiculous before the telephone pole tried to cave his head in.  But Joshua followed him out here anyway.

Joshua tucks his face down against the collar of Neku’s jacket.  “You’ll leave their punishment me, I hope?”  A giggle follows, saccharine enough to set Neku’s teeth on edge.  “You’ve got such a soft little heart, dear partner.  And I’d hate to let anyone think they can get away lightly with coming after what’s mine.”

Neku whips his head over to glare.  “Who the hell is yours?”

Joshua bats his unfairly long eyelashes.  They’re as pale as the rest of him.  Under the sunlight, everything wrapped around Neku has turned gold.  “My dear proxy.”

“Screw you,” says Neku, which just makes Joshua laugh.

---

The problem is, of course, that if the culprit only goes after Neku when Joshua isn’t around… “We’re going to have to bait them out,” Neku says grimly.  “You have to leave.”

“Yes, let’s say that out loud very obviously for everyone to hear,” Joshua says brightly, like he isn’t at this very moment pulling Composer bullshit to make them invisible.  Eyes literally glaze over whenever anyone looks in Neku’s direction. 

Neku’s pretty sure his feet aren’t touching the ground anymore either.  He hasn’t looked, because if he did, he’d have to tell Joshua to knock it off with the weird magic bullshit.  And honestly?  It’s just really nice that his leg doesn’t hurt right now.  Crutches suck.  Has he mentioned that?  Because they do.

“Honestly, Neku.  Have I taught you nothing?”

“No.  You have nothing good to teach.”  Neku squares his shoulders.  As fun as it is to verbally spar with Joshua, the waiting for shit to happen is going to kill him if the freak accidents don’t.  “Okay.  Here’s as good a place as any.”

“Absolutely not,” Joshua says, tugging Neku along.  Neku grumbles, preparing to mutiny.  “Too many variables.  I require a location that can’t do lethal damage to you—or at the very least, not too quickly.”

“Now who’s sharing the plan with the world?”  Neku follows along anyway.  “What are you thinking?  A shop that sells nothing but pillows?”

“Death by smothering,” muses Joshua thoughtfully.  “You’d think that would be a more pleasant way to go, but it’s really not.”

Neku grimaces.  “Why do you know that?  Ugh.  No, you know what—why do I have to know that?”

“I’d hate to stifle your curiosity!”  Joshua snickers at Neku’s outrage.  “Anyway, it’s a very intimate way of killing someone—”

“Oh, gross,” Neku splutters.  Joshua pats his shoulder.

“Mind out of the gutter, dear.”

Neku squawks in outrage.  He wasn’t—that wasn’t what—

“See, you must hold them down, compress it over their face—”  Joshua is doing some kind of demonstration with his hands. Neku pretends to gag.  “And you must be entirely focused on them from the second you commit yourself to murder, hm?  Your attention cannot waver or they will survive.  They’ll fight you the whole time too, naturally—the human body gets so very argumentative when it is denied air—where are you going, Neku?  We’re walking this way.  And although it is an attempt at something underhanded, it cannot be impersonal.  It will be a battle to the very end—”

“I hate you, I hate you so much,” says Neku, who at this point is not so much tottering along on his crutches as he is trying to escape Joshua’s octopus limbs.  “I will suffocate you with a pillow, oh my god.”

“So that’s how you’d murder me?”  Joshua asks, sounding intrigued because Joshua will always be, first and foremost, a total freak.  “Not what I’d choose, personally, but I suppose you already know that from firsthand experience—"

“Neku?”

Neku pauses from his important quest of trying to wrestle Joshua away.  His goal is, more or less, to shove his fingers up Joshua’s nose.  Joshua is going for his sides.  Neku isn't ticklish. And if he keeps saying it, Joshua will eventually stop exploiting it.

In front of them is a girl from one of Neku’s classes, hands full of shopping bags. 

She’s nice, even if they haven’t talked much.  She showed Neku how to fix his paintbrushes after the bristles split.  They’re in that space where they’re acquaintances who won’t avoid eye contact just because they’re meeting outside of class.  A space where they could maybe be friends with a little push, and even if Neku’s first instinct is always going to be to retreat away from new people, he’s not that guy anymore.  And if he wants his world to grow, it’s up to him to make the connections to grow it.

All this to say: she’s someone Neku would like to make a decent impression on.  That isn’t what he’s doing at this exact moment.

“Miyono,” Neku says, a little startled.  Joshua chooses this moment to lick his hand.  Neku whips his head around to hiss at him.  “Would you stop.”

“Never,” Joshua sing-songs back to him.  He looks positively gleeful to have someone new to embarrass Neku in front of. 

He made them visible just for this, didn’t he?  And now if Neku tries to trip him, it’ll look like Neku is the one being mean.

Neku groans a little.

“Um,” says Miyono, shifting her weight a bit.  “Sorry, I just saw you and—”  Her eyebrows rise as she notices Neku’s crutches.  “Oh no.  Are you hurt?  Again?”

“Yes, hasn’t Neku been so terribly accident prone lately?”  Joshua says from where he’s slouched against Neku’s shoulder.  “And you must be from one of his art classes, Miss Miyono?  Oil painting, perhaps?”

“Oh!”  A hint of a pleased blush spreads over Miyono’s cheeks.  It’s a familiar look; Neku knows he looks equally delighted whenever someone gives him a reason to ramble on about street art.  “No, Neku and I have mixed media together.  But oil painting is actually my major.  How’d you guess?”

“Your bags,” Joshua drawls.  “I’m familiar with Boutique Parisienne—they stock by far the highest quality paints, don’t they?”

Miyono nods furiously.  “They do!  They really do!  Are you a painter as well, Mr—?”

“Yoshiya Kiryuu,” Joshua says.  His smile practically sparkles as he reaches out and shakes her hand.  “But please, everyone calls me Joshua.  Unfortunately, I’m simply an avid admirer of the craft.  Neku is the real artist between us.”

Neku side-eyes him a little bit.  Joshua has this particularly silky voice he uses when he’s trying to be charming.  He never uses it on Neku—which is good, because Neku’s skin would crawl violently—and Neku’s never seen him try it with Mr. H either.  But either Neku is special and Joshua is nice and polite to literally everyone else that crosses his path, or Joshua just does this around Neku to fuck with him. 

He's definitely charming Miyono.  They are talking about paint brands Neku has never heard of, and the conversation is moving extremely fast.  There is a possibility that they have switched over to speaking in French—Miyono studied in France last year, and Joshua is definitely pretentious enough to want to show off.

Neku maybe zones out for a second, because when he hears his own name, he startles back down to earth and they’re somehow discussing… Neku’s art room mystery accidents.

Neku twitches a little.  Dude.  He’s standing right here.

“Would you say they’ve escalated over time?”  Joshua asks.  “I hate to speculate, but…”  He looks at Neku.  He’s conjured up such a genuinely concerned expression that Neku goes breathless for a moment before remembering, wait, no, Joshua is definitely fucking with him.  Neku scowls back.  “Do you think someone might have it out for him?”

“That can’t possibly be the case,” Miyono frowns back.  “I mean, who at school would want to hurt Neku?  He’s great.”

“Who indeed,” says Joshua.  This time he aims a positively radiant look Neku’s way.  Neku narrows his eyes.  His old bullet wounds itch.

“And anyway, there’s no way anybody could have orchestrated all of that,” Miyono continues.  “There was that time where he slipped and nearly hit his head where the scrapers were drying…  And that time with the vending machine recall and the botulism…  The time when the still life lit on fire, I guess that could have been some kind of prank, but…” 

Joshua is turning a very different look on Neku now.  Miyono is still going.  Neku grimaces back.  Look, he said someone was trying to kill him.  Joshua can take his politely offended smile and put it somewhere else.  What’s he even mad for?  What, he shot Neku a couple of times and now no one else is allowed to?

Then Miyono startles, perhaps realizing that Neku is still just standing here, looking awkward.  “Oh, sorry Neku.  We didn’t mean to leave you out!” 

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Neku says, narrowing his eyes further at Joshua, who has moved on from eyeballing him to making an expression like he’s taking mental notes. 

Miyono sidles a little closer to Neku.  She lowers her voice.  “Seriously, you should stop me if I ramble on too much!  I just didn’t know you had such an… interesting friend.”

The look she shoots Joshua out of the corner of her eye suggests that this is one of those cases where interesting actually means stupid hot.  Neku sighs internally.

He sort of tries not to notice whether or not Joshua’s current form is hot.  It was bad enough when he was fifteen and Joshua was the bane of his existence.  He recalls Joshua being sort of alarmingly pretty back then too, but he was too busy wanting to strangle him to be offended by it.  Now, Neku’s days are (mostly) absent the threat of imminent, looming death.  He still wants to kick Joshua’s ass, but not really in any way that means anything.  Or at least, it doesn’t mean anything more than the energy bubbling under Neku’s skin and the need to just… move.  Snap back.

Wrap Joshua’s attention around his fingers and twist.

And Joshua looks like an alarmingly pretty college boy.  Neku can’t blame Miyono.

Also, there’s no way of explaining, He only looks like this so he can harass people that won’t make Neku sound insane. 

What Neku does say is, “Ugh, we’re not friends.”

Joshua blinks back to reality at almost the same time.  “Friends?  Certainly not.  Oh, no offense, Miss Miyono.”

Miyono’s eyebrows rise.  “Oh?”  She clears her throat.  For some reason, her blush deepens.  “B-boyfriends, then?”

“Huh?”  Neku says, and then remembers Joshua still has his arm around him.  He curses and tries to shove Joshua off.

Naturally, Joshua thinks this is the funniest thing ever.  He lays his head on top of Neku’s and cinches his arm around him tighter.  Somehow his voice comes out buttery smooth, even as he shivers with laughter.  “Aw, don’t we make a cute couple?”

Miyono completes Neku’s utter humiliation by nodding enthusiastically.  “You really do!  I’m so sorry, you two—I shouldn’t have assumed!”

“Wait—”  Neku tries.

Miyono gives a speedy bow, only somewhat encumbered by her shopping bags.  “I’m really sorry for interrupting your date!  And Neku, I’ll see you next week!”

And then off she goes.  Taking the tattered remains of Neku’s dignity with her, swiftly vanishing over the horizon.  Neku lets his head hang.  He’s given up.  He lives here now.  He’s Joshua’s stress toy.  Joshua’s head settling on top of his is actually kind of comfortable, except for how he knows who it is.

…No, never mind, this is unbearable.

“Get off,” he says.

“Has this situation been worsening over time?”  Joshua asks.

“Does it matter?”  Neku asks, squinting up at him.  He shrugs, but this also fails to dislodge Joshua.

“Neku, do I usually waste my breath with pointless questions?”  Joshua replies.  Neku finds this ironic.  “Think carefully.  Have the attacks been escalating?”

Neku rolls his eyes.  “Maybe.  Look, it was going on for a while before I realized it was anything more than just… bad luck.”

Joshua purses his lips.   “And I didn’t notice anything.”

“I didn’t exactly tell you,” Neku points out.  Mainly because he’d thought Joshua was the one doing it in the first place.

Joshua grumbles to himself.  “That’s not what I mean.  This is my city.  You are my proxy.”  Neku wheezes a little as Joshua squeezes him tighter, voice lowering into a growl.  “You should be very well-protected.  Shibuya itself has taken no notice of its savior being under attack…  This mystery opponent of ours seems very well versed in eluding my defenses.”

Neku sort of gets the impression that Joshua is more pissed off about someone outsmarting him than the actual threat on Neku’s life.

“Yeah, I don’t think the city is prone to much complex thought?”  Neku says.  Joshua’s chin is pointy.

“How unfortunate.  You are very lovely for such an idiot.”

“And you’re heavy,” Neku fires back.  “Get off.”

“Make me,” says Joshua, and then when Neku goes for his shins, he dodges like an asshole.

---

The afternoon rolls around with nothing to show for it.

Well, Neku has a couple more bruises, but that’s it.  He’s escaped death three more times, at least.  Joshua’s increasingly disdainful frown suggests that maybe it was more than three times and Neku just didn’t notice.  It’s possible.  Neku is pretty sure Joshua’s smirk wouldn’t crack before at least seven murder attempts on Neku.

“This is…” Joshua tilts his head and sighs, long and almost meditative.  “…Incredibly frustrating.”

It is.  Neku is a lot less spry when he’s on crutches.  He can’t dodge and weave.  He didn’t realize how dangerous that would get.  Or maybe he was just trying not to think about it.

He’s feeling like maybe, if Joshua wasn’t here, he might have already gotten messed up pretty bad today.

Joshua has spent the afternoon trying to bait out Neku’s stalker.  Neku has now experienced attempted murder in an art depot, a cat café, and a flower shop.

Neat.

They still have no idea who might be following Neku.

“You tried,” says Neku wearily, “And I appreciate that.”

Joshua grimaces at him.  “Don’t be polite.  It sounds wrong coming from you.”

Neku shrugs.  He’s too tired to be impolite.  And if he’s not long for this world, there are worse things than telling Joshua he appreciates him before he goes.  Joshua being horrified by it is just a bonus.

Joshua throws him an annoyed look when he doesn’t say anything.  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.  We’re not giving up.”

“Maybe it really is just bad luck,” Neku points out.  If it’s bad luck, there’s no one to catch.  There’s no one for Joshua to torment out of existence.  Maybe the universe has just decided it’s had enough of Neku.

Joshua scowls harder.  “There is nothing remotely coincidental about this.  It’s clearly an assassination effort and I won’t stand for it."

Neku just sighs, drooping against his crutches.  He’s tired, you know?  Maneuvering around on crutches all day sucks.  It is both uncool and deeply tiring, even with Joshua levitating him around.  Neku’s street cred may never recover.  He and Joshua never hang out this long, and something about that makes it worse.

Joshua isn’t even be teasing him anymore.  He’s not looking at him like he’s Neku, whose life Joshua loves to make harder for fun. 

He looks at him like he’s a problem.

Like he’s—

“Yeah?”  Neku asks.  “So what do I do about it?  Do I just follow you around for the rest of my life, or what?”

“Don’t be silly.  I can’t have you at my place, you’re very distracting.”  Joshua looks Neku up and down.  “Both the frequency of the attacks and the aggression… you really should already be dead by now.”

“Cool.  I’ll get right on that.”

Joshua leans closer.  “You’re avoiding the attacks somehow, dear.  Not very gracefully, I admit, but there has to be something that gives our little assassin away.  Some detail I’ve missed.”

“Not really,” Neku says glumly.  “It’s just a… a feeling, I guess.”

Joshua lifts an eyebrow.  “A feeling?”

“Like I get a chill,” says Neku.  But it doesn’t matter, because Neku doesn’t notice anything until right before he’s about to die.  Joshua had to teleport in for the last one.  A whole metal display case detached from the wall and tried to crush him.

Neku really wishes he could just sulk without remembering Joshua’s arms tight around him, squeezing his wildly beating heart to Joshua’s chest.  Cursed knowledge.  Today sucks.

“You’re clearly sensing something,” Joshua mutters, fingers playing over his mouth.  “…So why can’t I?”

“Maybe I’m doing it to myself,” Neku mutters.  Joshua goes still. 

They stare at each other until Neku feels the need to qualify, “Dude.  That was a joke.”

“Was it really?”  Joshua asks, dropping his hand, eyes blazing with renewed excitement.  “Your time in UG did leave you with a certain psychic potential.  It’s possible you’re simply unaware of it.”

“Why would I want to off myself?”  Neku asks, exasperated enough to lift his head.

“You tell me,” Joshua says, somehow sounding smug about his bullshit theory.  Neku narrows his eyes.  Okay.  Well, if they’re going to play this game—

“Okay.  Let’s be paranoid assholes then.  Who gets something out of this, Josh?”  Neku narrows his eyes at him.  “Who gets to boss me around all day, and drag me to wherever the hell he wants, and make me—”  He lifts the offending hand.  “You know.”

Joshua looks distinctly unimpressed.  “Really, Neku?”

Really.

“Is this still about the flowers?”

“Yes, it’s about the flowers!”  Neku hisses, and gives the very same flowers a shake.  It’s a reasonable complaint.  Joshua is taking advantage of the situation.  Joshua made him buy flowers.  For himself.

Not even the funeral ones, which at least would have been funny in a mean-spirited way.  Neku has been carrying a bedraggled bouquet for the past two hours, and it is deeply embarrassing.

And Joshua refuses to show any shame about it, the fucker.

“Well, they suit you,” says Joshua, examining his nails.

Neku growls through his teeth.

“If I’m a cheap date, then you’d be a complete disaster.”

“I must have misheard you,” says Joshua, puffing up.  “Me?  Neku, I am a catch.  I would be an amazing date.  If I were so inclined, you would be swept off your feet.”

“If this was a date—” Neku points a finger.  “—which it’s not!—you would suck.”

“You’re very hung up about this,” says Joshua smugly, like he’s somehow winning this conversation.  There is the horrible possibility that he is, because Neku is really, really embarrassed right now and he’s not… entirely sure why.

So what if Joshua’s idea of locations with minimal murder prospects are all places Neku might like to take someone out to?  So what if Joshua’s idea of guarding him from harm is to all but publicly hug Neku?  Joshua being weird is nothing new.  If Neku starts feeling weird about it, that’s just letting Joshua win.

Besides, none of this ranks among the weirdest things Joshua has done around him.  Doesn’t even break the top five.  Neku has no idea why it’s getting to him all of a sudden, except that he’s been nearly killed multiple times and it’s made him feel really pathetic.  He doesn’t want to be tricked into dating Joshua while he feels pathetic.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Neku says.  “Glad it’s not a date.”

“Likewise,” sniffs Joshua.  “Glad we’ve established how undatable you are.”

“Hey,” says Neku, but his hackles are down.  Whatever weird mood was hanging over them has passed, and now it’s just Neku, Joshua, and their bullshit again.  “You didn’t even ask me out on this not-date, dickhead.  You just not-hired someone to not-kill me so I’d have to come over and hang out.”

Joshua rolls his eyes.  “I’ll have you know—”  He breaks off then, glancing up and blinking his long eyelashes in surprise.  “Oh,” he says, like he’s just had the air knocked out of him.

“’Oh?’”   Neku repeats.  “What do you mean, ‘oh’—”  But then he feels it too.  The tap of a raindrop, right against his nose.  Instinctively, his head tips back, like he can trace its path back up to the sky—

Which promptly opens up overhead.  Rain comes sheeting down. 

“Shit!”

Neku yelps—a fucking sun shower?  Are you kidding him right now?  There’s barely a cloud in the sky and he’s not supposed to get his cast wet—he ducks, but there’s nowhere to escape now that the sky has decided to try power washing him out of existence.

“What kind of bad joke is this?”  Joshua splutters, echoing how Neku feels, but it’s also not really all that helpful.  They should get under an awning or something.  Like, they’re already soaked, but it’s the principle of the thing.  Neku gropes for Joshua's wrist.  Everyone else is already shrieking and sprinting for shelter, and there’s not going to be room anywhere if they keep standing like this.

“Josh, what are you standing there for?  Come on!”

“It’s raining, Neku,” says Joshua, and yeah, he’s definitely offended.  By the weather. 

And under normal circumstances, this would be hilarious.  Joshua not getting his way is always hilarious.  Right now, Neku is too wet for hilarity.  “I noticed,” he deadpans, and successfully grabs Joshua by the elbow.  He’ll tow him along if he has to.  “Move it.”

“It’s raining on me,” Joshua says, like this is a revelation.  He looks increasingly shocked to be damp.  It’s a good look on him, though.  Incredibly pathetic.  He could probably empty Neku’s wallet at twice the usual speed if he glared at him like a wet, indignant kitten.

“Don’t get out much, do you?”  Neku answers, and pulls.

"Ugh,” Joshua groans.  “You don’t get it.  Shibuya is mine—”  He lets Neku drag him along, at least, complaining the whole way.  “It doesn’t rain on me when I go out!  Not unless I want it to.  The weather is always suitable for my errands.  The roads are always clear enough wherever I want to go.  I don’t get caught in sudden downpours, that would be ridiculous.  I don’t get inconvenienced in my own city.  I’m a god.”

“Good for you.  Let’s go dry off over here,” Neku says.  The next step he takes, the rain splashing over his skin comes to a halt and Neku just stands there next to Joshua, dripping profusely.  All around them, the rain is getting heavier, a gray curtain swallowing Shibuya up.

There’s a bubble around them—a perfect sphere of dry air, and when Neku looks up, he can see the raindrops literally flinging themselves away from where he’s standing.  It’s a mesmerizing sight, but even better is the way Joshua has his hands planted on his hips and is glaring into the clouds overhead.

“Is this a punishment?”  Joshua demands.  He looks a little insane right now, not going to lie.  He’s drenched to the bone, shirt entirely stuck to his front, hair wet enough that when he shoves it back, he looks like a blonde Dracula with a fondness for pastels.  He also looks ready to throw hands with a raincloud.  The magical bubble of Composer bullshit only really adds to this. 

But he’s not insane.  Most of the time, he’s only pretending to be.  And right now, Neku can feel the city… stirring for lack of a better word.  Answering.

For a moment, the concrete underfoot doesn’t feel solid.  It feels like the buzz of vibration, like Neku is floating in an incomprehensibly loud sound wave he isn’t even capable of hearing.

“What, are you angry I’ve allowed your favorite Player to be in danger?”  Joshua demands, visibly seething.  “I’m working on it, aren’t I?  There’s no need for a tantrum.”

“I’m Shibuya’s favorite?”  Neku asks.  He swirls his fingers gingerly through the boundary between dry air and rain.  It feels staticky.  Could be the rain.  Could be Joshua.  Could be the apparently sentient city’s bad mood.

Joshua rolls his eyes at him.  “Of course Shibuya loves you,” he snaps.  “You saved it.  It fawns over you constantly.  It’s really very annoying for everyone.”

“Oh.”  Neku blinks.  Of course?

“And therefore, this attitude is very short-sighted,” Joshua says to the sky again before Neku can ask any follow-up questions, his tone chiding.  “Don’t you think?  Hm?  Is it really worth it to get my proxy cold and wet and make it even easier for him to slip and die?  All just to spite me?”

Neku pokes his fingers farther past the edges of the rain bubble.  It’s more staticky over there, huh?  Cool.  “Maybe Shibuya secretly wanted me gone all along.  You don’t know.”

“I do know,” Joshua mutters.  “Shibuya would never—”  He pauses.  He blinks.

He peers down at Neku like they’ve never seen each other before.  That is, with sudden and hair-raising interest.  Joshua’s lips part, but no sound escapes.

“Uhhh,” says Neku.  The only reason he’s not edging away is that the confines of the bubble are pretty snug.  He’d rather not get rained on again.  He hates being wet.

“…Neku,” says Joshua.  After a moment of staring, his blank expression rearranges itself into a smile.  His eyes crinkle.  His teeth are very sharp.  “What do you say we pay a visit to Mr. Hanekoma?”

---

When Neku first started to question if something weird was happening, he did go to Mr. H first.

Or rather, he tried to.  In reality, he paced outside the café for a while, trying to figure out how to explain that his toaster had exploded in his face this morning and now he thought he might be cursed.  It’s not that he thinks Mr. H can be convinced that he’s cool.  This is the guy who saw him try to strangle Shiki during week one because fucking Uzuki told him it would be a good idea.  There’s no coming back from that.

But he still can’t help but try to impress the guy. 

So yeah, Neku just ordered a coffee and said nothing about the exploding toaster.  He went to Joshua instead.  And now Joshua is bringing him back.  Everything has come full circle, except now Neku is dripping all over the floor.

The rain stopped a little while ago.  Neku would like to ask why they’re going to Mr. H’s place.  Just what is it that Joshua thinks he’s figured out?  But Joshua is wearing that I’m going to make someone pay smirk of his, the one that’s all teeth.  And he still looks like he’s been dunked in a lake.  Utterly deranged. 

Yeah, Neku is keeping his mouth shut.

He’s pretty sure Mr. H isn’t the one trying to kill him, at least.  And the coffee’s good.

“Oh?  If it isn’t Phones and J,” Mr. H says as they slide into their usual seats up front.  As Neku struggles to balance his wet crutches against the bar, he reaches over to help.  Neku grunts his appreciation.  “You doing alright, Phones?  Looking kind of… rough today.”

“Someone’s been trying to kill Neku,” Joshua says.  Mr. H’s eyebrows go shooting up.  Yeah, Joshua is grinning from ear to ear as he says it.  If he’s not careful, someone will think he’s enjoying this.

Neku does a double take.  “Hey, why are you dry?”

Joshua shrugs, rearranging his long limbs so he can slouch against the counter and smile mysteriously.  “Gods shouldn’t be damp, Neku, really.  It’s unbecoming.”

“Do me too,” Neku demands.

Joshua’s eyes gleam.  “Ask nicely.”

“So you’re taking care of it?”  Mr. H interrupts.  “Keeping Phones alive, I mean?”  Joshua beams back.  Neku keeps dripping rainwater.  Joshua is the worst.

“I’m about to.  Because I’ve worked out who the culprit is.  And,” he adds, curling a lock of hair around his finger idly while Neku continues to drip next to him, “I’ve also solved that little anomaly we’ve been looking into this month.”

“Anomaly?”  Neku says, squinting.

“Composer business, Neku,” says Joshua.  Neku scowls, but lets it go.

Mr. H glances Neku’s way, but look, Neku also has no idea what’s going on with Joshua right now.  He probably just wants an audience.  “…Alright, then.  Don’t keep us in suspense, J.”

Joshua leans forward a little, voice conspiratorial.  “It’s Shibuya.  Shibuya’s been trying to kill Neku.”

There’s a pause.

Turns out Neku is too wet for dramatic timing.  “Can it do that?”  He pauses from wringing the bottom of his jacket out.  He looks at Mr. H for some kind of explanation.  Mr. H has started frowning.  Neku grimaces at Joshua.  “Seriously?  Two seconds ago, you said I was its favorite.”

“Oh, you’re definitely still its favorite,” Joshua says, and props his smug face up on his hand.

“You just said it wants to end me,” Neku says flatly.

“I’m very sure I didn’t,” says Joshua, still beaming.  “It only wants to kill you, Neku.  Two very different things.  You of all people should know that death isn’t the end.”

“…Does it want me to play the Reaper’s Game again?”  It’s not like Neku didn’t get that this was a possibility when these accidents started to get dangerous.

Joshua scoffs.  “You won’t be participating in any Game of mine ever again, thank you.”  Neku’s mouth opens, but Joshua waves a hand at him, “Hush, don’t trouble yourself with the specifics.  The point is, this is something I know how to solve.  In fact, we’ve already been discussing potential solutions, haven’t we?”

Neku perks up a little at that—it would be really good to not have to keep fearing for his life—at least until he turns his head and sees Mr. H giving Joshua the stink eye.

And this is Mr. H.  He is the chillest of dudes.  He never gets pissed about anything, whether it’s panicking Players or Joshua and his mind games. 

Right now, though, he’s looking at Joshua like he’s a walking migraine.

“We sure have been talking,” Mr. H says, deadpan.

“Joshua,” Neku says slowly.  One after another, alarm bells are going off in his head.

“Now, now, Neku.  The details are quite unimportant,” Joshua says.  “It’ll be a quick and painless, really—a few moments of your time, and everything in your life goes right back to normal. And I'm sure Sanae will be willing to help, hm?  To keep our darling Neku safe?”

“Call me that again,” Neku says.  “I dare you.”

Joshua simpers, “If you insist—”

“Mr. H,” Neku cuts him off ruthlessly, because he isn’t entirely clueless and as far as blatant attempts to distract him go, this isn’t one of Joshua’s best.  “What’s he talking about?”

And of all the things he could possibly do to make himself seem more suspicious, Joshua chooses this moment to interject sharply, “Let’s remember who you work for, hm, Sanae?”

Neku and Mr. H both stare at him.

He then takes a prim little sip of his coffee like he’s the only person in the room.  “Mm,” Joshua says.  “New blend?”

Neku contemplates pushing him off his stool.

Mr. H looks between them, visibly unhappy.  “It’s because I work for you,” he says, and before Joshua can open his mouth again, he’s already saying, “Phones, this guy here wants to take your memories away.”

Joshua’s hand slaps down on the table.  Neku’s coffee cup rattles in its saucer.  “Sanae!”  Joshua snaps.  Neku turns to stare at him because—really?  Really?  This shit again?

“Seriously?”

“Sorry, J,” Mr. H says flatly.  “If Phones is gonna forget anyway, he might as well make an informed decision.  You’re just gonna have to deal.”

“You’re not taking my memories again,” Neku seethes, and Joshua rounds on him, his manic smile twisting into a snarl.

“You think you get a choice in this, human?”

And that’s just—fuck.  Ouch.

The only thing that keeps Neku frozen in his seat instead of walking outside to take his chances with the rain and the apparently homicidal city is the fact that Joshua’s face crumples the second he snaps at him too.

“Neku, it sounds worse than it is.”  Joshua makes an effort to put his smile back on, but it sits awkwardly on his face.  His eyes are wild.  Neku’s tense enough to snap and Joshua doesn’t look quite so smug now.  A finger taps at the counter like the lash of a cat’s tail, seconds from pouncing, all vicious, poorly-contained energy.   “I promise.  It would only be the Reaper Game, okay?  You hated the Game.”  His eyes search Neku’s.  “You have nightmares.  Those would stop.”

“But I’d lose my friends,” Neku realizes raggedly.  “And—”

I’ll lose myself.

Neku will carry the scars from the Reaper Game for the rest of his life.  But he also did a lot of growing up there.  He likes who he is now, is the thing.  He likes it so much better than where he used to be.  Before the Game, he was just… so unhappy, and with no clue how to fix it.

“No, no,” Joshua assures him with a wince of a laugh, and reaches out to lay a hand over Neku’s.  It’s warm on Neku’s rain-chilled skin.  Neku sucks in a breath.  “I wouldn’t allow that.  Your resonance with your friends extends beyond the bounds of this universe.  You didn’t need the Game to meet them, or to grow.”

Neku lets Joshua hold his gaze.  Stares into him, tries to see through the static.  “You sure about that?”

Joshua nods.  “I’d weave you new memories out of the worlds where your paths still intersected.  You would continue to be who you always were—after a brief period of confusion, perhaps, but you’re mortal.”  His smile is slipping.  It looks even worse now.  It’s like he’s baring his teeth.  “Mortals forget so easily.  In a few years, you won’t even remember that anything seemed strange.”

Put like that, it almost sounds like a good thing.

Joshua is trying really hard to sell him on this, huh?

Your friends, he’d said.

“And what about you?”  Neku says and he instantly knows he’s got him by the way Joshua goes still.  Neku snarls at him.  “What the hell?  How does me not remembering you help anything?”

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”  Mr. H mutters, and Joshua shoots him such a furious look that Neku flinches.  Mr. H just shakes his head at Joshua’s gaze.  “Wouldn’t just be you forgetting, Phones.  That’s why he needs my help.”

“Would you just,” Joshua says through his teeth, “Stop talking.”

“What?  Why do you have to forget me?”  Neku asks, and he can’t even slightly pretend to not be hurt.  “Wait—is this part of the Composer thing?  Are you actually the one trying to kill me?”

“Clearly not!”  Joshua snaps at him.  “I’m trying to save your life before I—”

But whatever he’s thinking, he swallows it back down.  His mouth snaps shut with an audible click.  Neku sees nothing but the wide, infuriated flash of his eyes and abruptly, Joshua isn’t in his seat anymore.  He teleports away like he was never there.  It’s not the first time Joshua has just up and dipped when a conversation went in a way he didn’t want it to.  It won’t be the last.

Neku is still under threat of getting murdered by Shibuya, though.  It feels pretty shitty of Joshua to run away from this conversation in particular.

“Don’t worry,” Mr. H says as Neku sits there, reeling.  “He’ll cool off.  And he doesn’t affect this place as much as the rest of Shibuya, so you’ll be safe here.”

After a moment, Neku remembers to reply.  “…Thanks.”

Joshua’s been trying to kill him.  Or something.  Frankly, Joshua seemed as surprised by it as Neku was when he figured it out.  Neku didn’t think he was acting, but apparently he doesn’t know Joshua as well as he thought he did.

“Chin up, Phones,” Mr. H says gently.  “If it helps, he wasn’t doing this on purpose.  His being is woven into the city.  Whatever’s going through his head tends to get kind of literal.”

“And what’s been going through his head is him wanting to kill me,” Neku says numbly.  “Or forget about me, I guess.”  So he won’t want to kill me.

“…I forget you two are just kids sometimes,” Mr. H sighs.

Neku squints at him.  He’s eighteen, okay?  Not a kid.  But Mr. H is some kind of unknowable immortal entity, so Neku lets it go.  “But Josh is older.  Like you.”

“Kind of?”  Mr. H nods at Joshua’s empty seat.  “You’re still right—J’s been the Composer for a long time now. But he died around the same age you entered the Game. ”

Neku just blinks at him.  He wasn’t exactly asking for a history lesson.  But whatever.  Mr. H’s calm voice is soothing the buzz in his head, pushing the ache in his chest farther away. 

“The years don’t affect the dead like the living.  He’s been fifteen for a long time now,” Mr. H says gently.  “You get me?  It’s been just him and the Music down in his hideout.  Never growing, never changing.  Just dreaming Shibuya into reality every day, forever.”

“That sounds…”  Neku pauses. 

Honestly, it sounds like a particularly shitty way to spend eternity.  Back when Neku hated the world, well.  A lot of that was because he hated himself.

He didn’t really figure out how to like himself until he started making a difference in other people’s lives.  It just hadn’t ever occurred to him that he could need other people like that.

Joshua tried to destroy the whole city when he couldn't take his job anymore.  Yeah.  Neku thinks it probably didn’t occur to him either.

“When you showed up…”  Mr. H gives Neku a faint smile.  “…That tiny world got bigger.  Now J’s letting the world touch him again.  He’s started growing up.  You noticed that?”

Neku swallows around the lump in his throat at that.  He’d definitely noticed.  Assumed Joshua was doing it to mess with him?  Absolutely.  But he'd noticed.

Being older suits Joshua.  He looks more himself.   Before, it was like his body was too small to contain everything that made him up.  Like a costume that didn’t sit quite right.  Now he seems, well…

Alive.

A hand ruffles Neku’s hair as Mr. H heads down the counter, giving Neku some space.  In its wake, Neku discovers that his clothes are suddenly dry.

“He doesn’t hate you, Phones.  Far from it.”

---

Neku doesn’t end up finishing his coffee.  He sits at the bar, waiting for Joshua to come back, but it’s like ten minutes before he gives up and gets to his feet, filled with a burning need to head outside.  When he shuts the door behind himself, he sees Joshua leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

“Did you just imprint me,” Neku accuses.

“Only to get you away from Mr. Hanekoma,” Joshua mutters.  “Whatever he’s told you, it’s grossly exaggerated.”  The manic energy from earlier seems to have burned off.  Now Joshua just looks defeated.  Neku settles against the wall at his side, careful of the crutches.  His arms cross as they survey the city together.  It’s starting to get dark—or as dark as it ever gets in Shibuya.  There are glaring lights in every direction.

“So you’re not freaking out about how much has changed lately?”

Joshua hunches his shoulders.  “…Maybe not everything is exaggerated.”

Neku lets his head thud back against the wall.  “You know…”  He clears his throat.  “Look, you’re not alone in this, okay?  You changed me too, Josh.”

“How nice for you,” Joshua says tightly, shoulders drawing up further, “But you’re mortal, Neku.  You’re free to change.  You don’t have to worry that if you get attached, your powers will kill someone without you even noticing.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Neku scratches his head.  “I still really do not get the killing me thing.”

“For fuck’s sake.”  Joshua throws his head back against the wall too, complete with a performative groan.  His eyes practically roll back in his skull.  Despite everything, Neku snorts.  “You’re really going to make me say this.  Neku, I don’t want to kill you.  I’d prefer you not die at all.  I just want you to be dead.”  Neku squints.  Joshua spreads his hands.  “To be at my side?”

“Uh,” says Neku.

Joshua scowls bitterly at him.  “…I want you to belong to my world.  Am I being clear enough for you?”

Uh.  Neku’s blushing too.  He opens his mouth to say something snarky, but bites it back a moment later.

Maybe he doesn’t hate it so much when Joshua is sincere with him.

“And I was doing an excellent job of keeping such impulses from taking hold, by the way,” Joshua sneers into the gloom.  “You didn’t notice a thing.”

“But Shibuya was still listening,” Neku guesses.

“…Shibuya was listening,” Joshua agrees. 

There’s a little breath of silence between them.

“Even so, I’ve known something was off for weeks now,” Joshua admits into the quiet, very much not looking at Neku.  “I went looking, but I couldn’t find any outside interference.”

There wouldn't be any outside interference to find, huh? Not if it was just an echo of Joshua's own thoughts.

“But if I’d known I was putting you in danger,” Joshua begins.  “If I’d had even the slightest suspicion—"

“Weren’t you and Mr. H looking into solutions for a while now?”  Neku interrupts softly.

Joshua grimaces.  “…Did I say that?  Are you very sure?”

“Joshua,” says Neku.  Joshua huffs, curling inward.

“Well, I’m not entirely blind to my own faults, am I?” He mutters.  “I thought it prudent to have a contingency in place.  For if I grew too… dissatisfied with how things are.”  He shrugs his shoulders huffily.  “I don’t actually want to destroy Shibuya anymore.”

Neku looks back over the shimmering view, trying to figure out a delicate way of saying this.  Usually, he’d just be blunt—tell Joshua he’s full of shit and rile him up—but the Joshua beside him seems remarkably delicate.

“You could just be normal and ask me to hang out, you know,” is what Neku actually says.  Joshua’s eyes flit to him and he finds himself clearing his throat.  “If I didn’t like hanging out with you, I wouldn’t…”  Go out of my way to do it.  Keep visiting your dumb sewer hideout.  Think of you as one of my closest friends.

“…be here,” Neku says.

Joshua stares at him.

Neku stares at his shoes.  “…Even with everything, today was fun.”

They never spend this much time together.  And sure, it was out of necessity, but—

—does it have to be?

“Oh,” whispers Joshua.

Neku feels an overwhelming urge to start pacing the block.  His foot taps against the pavement.  His fingers drum against his arm.  It’s always like this with Joshua.  He doesn’t even know why he’s getting worked up right now, other than the fact that Joshua’s quiet intensity feels like it’s grabbed him by the throat. 

“And, I mean,” he makes himself go on, “You know I get lonely too sometimes, right?  You probably just need more friends.  That way it won’t just be me standing between you and ending Shibuya whenever you get bored, or whatever—"

Joshua sighs.  “Very sweet of you, Neku.  But it won’t work.”

“And why not?”  Neku asks, nudging him with his elbow.  “Look, I’ll help you meet new people, if you want.” 

It’s a genuine offer.  God knows Neku had a rough time of it when he was trying to figure his shit out.

Joshua rolls his eyes.  “It just won’t.”

“Are you trying to be mysterious or something?”  Neku says, and nudges him again, a little harder.  “I’ll understand if you just explain it to me.”

Joshua cuts his eyes at him.  “I’ll explain if you agree to have your memories wiped.”  He doesn’t really mean it now, though.  He’s kind of smirking as he says it, and the expression no longer makes Neku feel like screaming.  Something a little too relieved to be a laugh bursts out of Neku’s chest.

“You’re such an ass.”

Joshua’s smirk fades into something softer, sweeter.  Neku finds himself a little transfixed by it.  Under the city lights, Joshua can’t fake being human quite as well.  There’s something unmistakably impossible about him.  Like he’s a little bit transparent at the edges, or carrying smoldering lines of flame underneath his skin.  Pretty in a way that goes up Neku’s spine and makes him want to look away.

That’s another thing about Joshua.  It’s not just that he knows Joshua thrives on attention and Neku loves to give him a hard time.  Neku just tries not to look for too long in general.  He drops his eyes down to his shoes.

“You were probably right,” Joshua says.  “Shibuya really was trying to set us up on a date.” 

“A date with death,” Neku scoffs.

“Exactly.”  Joshua says it softly, like the smile still engraved in Neku’s eyelids.  “Neku, I like you.”

“Whatever,” Neku says to his shoes.  He likes Joshua too.  Why is his face getting hot?

When he sneaks a glance, Joshua raises his eyebrows at him.  Neku chokes a little.

“Josh, c’mon.”  Joshua doesn’t say anything.  Neku tries again.  “I don’t get what you’re saying—”

“I think you do,” Joshua says simply. 

Neku splutters.

“It’s alright.  I know you don’t feel the same.”  Joshua looks away.  “Really, I didn’t intend for you to know about it at all, but—”

“Shut up,” Neku chokes out.  “Quit talking.”

Joshua snorts.  “Why?  So you can overthink it?”

Neku isn’t overthinking anything!  He literally just found out.  He hasn’t had time to think.  “Just—give me a second here!”

“Really, Neku—”

Neku’s hand goes over his mouth.  It’s the only way to shut him up, and Neku knows this from experience.  Joshua’s eyes widen. 

“Stop,” Neku begs.  His face is on fire and Joshua is sort of scowling at him under his hand.  If he licks Neku’s hand this time, Neku will scream.

Joshua isn’t someone that likes people.  Not like that.  He’s never serious.  He just likes messing with people.

Joshua elects not to lick his hand, but he does slap it away and fix Neku with a very unimpressed look. 

In the meantime, Neku sucks in some air.  He points accusingly at Joshua.  “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Why waste my breath on something so trivial?”  Joshua says meanly, which Neku translates to, Because I was so, so embarrassed I wanted to nuke the memory of you out of my head.

And Neku gets it, honestly.  Memory loss seems preferable to what they’re doing now. 

“And now you’ve forgotten to breathe,” Joshua points out helpfully.  “Really, Neku.  I’m trying to give you some credit here.  But for someone who doesn’t want to die, you really—”  He breaks off.  This time it isn’t because Neku shoved a hand over his mouth.

Neku puts his face in one of his hands.  His other, regretfully, is preoccupied.  Joshua looks down like he has to check and make sure. 

“…Your hand is shaking,” Joshua observes.

“And you’re still talking,” says Neku, slightly muffled through his fingers.  “For the last time, shut up.  I’m testing something.”

Two of Neku’s fingers are curled into his palm, hooked over two of Joshua’s own.  His fingers are soft. 

This is awful.

“…What are the results?”  Joshua’s fingers tuck themselves over his.  His touch is very light.  Shit.  Why did Neku notice that?  Why is he paying attention to how careful Josh is being—how gentle?

He’s going to die and Shibuya won’t even have to get involved.

“Argh,” says Neku.

Neither of them are moving.  Joshua is tense like he’s about to book it and Neku totally gets it.  He wants to take off too. 

Joshua’s voice is clipped.  “If you’re not serious about this—”

And Neku just loses it.

Neku leans in, hand on Joshua’s jaw to spin him around.  He kisses him hard enough to shut him up, hard enough to make their teeth click.

He overbalances almost immediately.  Fuck his crutches.

His back hits the wall.  Joshua shoves him against it, or maybe he just teleports them there, holding him steady by the collar of his jacket.  Neku’s personal space?  What personal space?  Instead, Joshua presses into him with a sound that immediately starts playing in Neku’s head on repeat.  His hand doesn’t stop shaking, even when it sinks into Joshua’s unfairly soft hair.  Joshua’s eyes are all over him, questioning.  Fuck it.  Neku leans back in.

He’s soft everywhere.  Neku maybe moans.  Joshua swallows the sound greedily.

“Wait,” Neku breaks away to gasp.  “I need to—you’re going to stop trying to kill me now, right?”

The Composer of Shibuya smirks at him with the whole city shimmering madly behind him.  He has Neku’s heart in his hands, his taste on his tongue, his trust with a pretty bow on top.

And the absolute asshole still says, “Now who’s still talking?”

Neku bristles. "Screw you.  Oh my god.  I almost died and you’re still—"

And Joshua giggles, right up against his lips.  “So serious, dear,” he purrs as Neku struggles not to combust.  “I wasn’t trying to kill you.  I already told you that.”

“I mean it,” Neku says breathlessly.  “No killing.  Intentional or otherwise.  Figure it the fuck out.”

“Oh, alright.  But only if I get to keep you,” says Joshua, like that’s something he gets to negotiate.  Creep.  God, why, why is it kind of working for Neku anyway?  “Now hush.”

And regrettably, there’s nowhere else in this universe or any other where Neku wants to be than right here against this wall, getting kissed within an inch of his life.

---

A week later, Neku blinks his eyes open to the light outside his figure drawing classroom.  He discovers that it must have been raining while he was in class.  The sunlight beams down on the puddles left behind.  There’s a perfect rainbow shining overhead in its full splendor.  It’s the sixth one he’s seen this week.

Neku gets the feeling that Shibuya is maybe a little apologetic about the whole inadvertently trying to kill him thing.

He yawns again as he pockets his phone—he’s meeting up with Shiki and Beat for lunch, if they can ever decide where they’re going—eyes squeezing shut hard enough to water.  Someone to his left clears their throat.

“My bad,” Neku says, jaw cracking on the yawn.  “Sorry for blocking the—”  Neku prepares to shuffle to the side.  He looks up as he takes a step.  Then he blinks.  There are rainbows reflecting in his eyes.  It’s dazzling.

Joshua clears his throat again.  He’s here.  On campus.  He’s wearing a lavender knit sweater Neku has never seen before, and an expression of such perfect indifference that Neku can immediately tell he’s freaking out a little.

“I thought,” Joshua says, all stiff and practiced, clearly trying way too hard, “That perhaps… I might take your advice.  Meet you in the middle, so to speak.”

“Uh,” says Neku, who was really not prepared to see Joshua on his university campus.  Thus far, Joshua has avoided Neku’s school like the plague.

Their dates have all been around the cityscape, mostly.  Or at Neku’s apartment.

Eventually, thinking about this will stop making Neku’s heart leap into his throat.

“I even thought I might try taking a few courses here,” says Joshua.  He fidgets a little with his sweater sleeves.  “To expand my world.  See what it’s like on the other side, with you.”  He tucks the sweater over his knuckles, then glances up.  “I—”  Joshua stops talking.

Ah.  Neku realizes he’s started to grin.

“However, if you are even a little bit smug about this—”  Joshua begins.

“Uh-huh.”  Neku takes his hand, links their fingers together. 

Neku is clearly going to be so smug.  He’s already smug.  Here they stand, Joshua and his god powers are witnessing unprecedented levels of smug.  And here Joshua is, not doing anything about it but returning Neku’s stupidly pleased smile.

No, it’s worse than that.  As Neku beams at him, Joshua is actually starting to smile shyly back himself.  And for a moment, Neku’s chest is so full he can hardly breathe.

You’re here, he’s thinking.

And then: oh my god, we look like idiots right now.

They both clear their throats and look away.

“You’re insufferable,” Joshua complains. Then he takes a step closer and with a thump, he drapes himself over Neku and all further complaints are muffled into his hair.  “Anyway, I’m bored.  Show me around.”

“You know I don’t actually take orders from you, right?”  Neku fires back, even as he shifts his portfolio around to not dig into Joshua’s stomach.

“No respect at all.  The things I sacrifice for this relationship.” Joshua nuzzles Neku's hair a little bit.

Neku grumbles, but tucks Joshua’s hand into the pocket of his jacket because look, that’s his now.  He’s not giving it back.  “Whatever.  Since you’re already here—”

Joshua, very faintly, giggles like he’s gotten away with something.  Neku has to fight down another smile.

Street cred, he tells himself sternly.  Remember your street cred.

Joshua squeezes his hand a little.

…dammit.

And Shibuya, watching over the pair from on high, glitters a little brighter.  It’s under strict orders not to interfere.  Even so, isn't it strange? No matter how far these two walk, it's as if the puddles never dare touch their feet.