#but i also love kiryu because he's so messy but also means well but intention is lost on actiona nd ouuugughh......

[todayisafridaynight]

YOUR PREV POST IS SOOO REAL DUDE. Mine scolding daigo was the hottest thing ever bro and daigo himself saying other than kashiwagi mine is the only guy who has the balls to scold him like that.. giggling and kicking my feet in the airrrrrr

no thats what im saying like im going to throw up and cry and i will simply need thirty minutes alone its so good whenever i thinka bout it ..........

[subasekabang]

Ties We Bind (& Break), Chapter 3

Author: @composeregg Rating: T Word Count: 15435, Chapter total: 3415 Pairings/Characters: Joshua/Neku, Shiki/Eri, Joshua & Neku & Shiki & Beat & Rhyme & Eri in a queerplatonic poly-pile relationship. Hanekoma, Kariya. Warnings: Includes depression heavily, and mentions of suicide. Summary: One year after the Long Game, a tall boy named Yuuto Kimura, who has messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes, stumbles into Neku’s life, and he can’t help but let him get close, letting him join the circle of friends.

One year after the Long Game, Joshua aches to hang out with Neku again, but the restrictions he’s gained for his transgressions are very clear: Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, is not to interact with Neku Sakuraba.

(But every rule has a loophole.)

Author’s Note: Each chapter is also being added to ao3! Here! (Small delay per chapter).

Featuring autistic/neurodivergent characters, the “Joshua is Neku’s Dead Best Friend” theory, and lots of headcanons abound.

“So not that you ain’t cool, man, but what’cha doin’ at this meet?” Beat asks, looking at Yuuto.

They���re gathered at Hachiko on a Saturday, like they’ve done twice a month since the Game. Without Eri, so they could hang out as former Game Players.

At least, Beat thought that’s what this was, but Yuuto is standing near. He’d tagged along with Neku to the meetup. None of the others are questioning it, and it makes Beat feel left out of the loop.

“Mm, and here I thought this was for people who’ve played the Game,” he says with a smile, and Beat freezes.

“Sorry, I told him I was meeting up with you guys and he invited himself along,” Neku says. “I told Shiki already, she was the first to show up last Sunday besides me, so we got to chat, but yeah. He apparently played a few years back.”

“It’s been a while since my Game week. I got to play under the previous Composer, in fact; there’s been a regime change since.” Neku frowns at that statement, a flicker across his face before it’s gone, but Beat catches it.

He also notices Rhyme’s reaction, or… lack of it. So he nudges them. “And how come you ain’t surprised by this?”

They shrug, hesitating. “I… I could feel it. My instincts said he’d been touched by the Game, and trusting your instincts is important.”

Ah.

Beat wraps an arm around them, giving a big squeeze. He knows they haven’t told the others yet, and he hasn’t either, but they don’t keep secrets from each other, and… Being a Noise for a bit did something to Rhyme. They get glimpses of the UG, see and feel the presence of Noise, and sometimes they talk about it. Noise running on basic emotions, how it’s heightened their instincts, and how they have to restrain those more now.

Being a Reaper means he didn’t get out unscathed either. The UG is greyscale, hazy, but there in his sights. Power pulses under his skin, buried deep in his core. It’s locked away, he can’t reach it, but if he could…

It’s not a risk he’s willing to take. Beat doesn’t want to be a Reaper, and he doesn’t need that power.

“So, where should we hang out today?” Shiki asks, steering the conversation back onto the tracks. “I’d offer the studio, but Eri said she wanted to get some work done, so she’s there right now.”

“Me and Rhyme’s parents is home, so our place is a no-can-do, sorry yo,” he says.

“And my place is too small to hold us all. Or at least, my mom thinks so, and she’s home.” Neku sighs.

Yuuto grins, and chimes in, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, asking if you’d like to come to my place, but… Like I said before, rich parents and I live alone.”

“Cool wit’ me,” says Beat, and the others agree.

One quick walk later and, “You live here!?” Shiki gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “If you can afford a Pork City apartment, you must not’ve been joking about rich family!”

“Not just any apartment, the penthouse. The lap of luxury, all to myself!” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “It’s so boring and lonely being isolated there all the time.”

It’s an expensive place to rent, Beat knew that, but as they walk through the halls illuminated by chandeliers and past lounges and rooms of all sorts to the elevator, it starts to sink in just how extravagant this place is.

“It’s a bit much, I think,” Yuuto says, “but I’m not gonna argue where my parents put me. Just a heads up though, a lot of Reapers live here too. I think it’s part of being in the Game, they still need a place to stay, after all.”

With a flourish, he opens the door, and plops down on a recliner chair. Beat follows him in, as do the rest, and Yuuto instructs them to make themselves at home so they all get situated. Neku stakes a claim on the other empty chair, while Beat ends up on the couch, Rhyme in the middle, with Shiki on the other end.

“Sooo,” says Yuuto, “what do y’all do when you gather like this, Players only?”

“Talk, vent, throw stuff at each other, make bad jokes and memes,” Neku says, slipping his headphones down so they rest around his neck. “We should probably share Game stories first, since you’re new here.”

Yuuto nods. “Mm… Well, I played about two years ago. My partner was Uzuki Yashiro,” he says, continuing without noticing the way the rest of them tense, the way the background music jumps as the CD hits a scratch. “She’s a Reaper now, as far as I know. We did not get along well, but we survived.”

“She’s awful,” Shiki groans. “We all had to deal with her, and she’s a manipulative slimy asshole.”

“Sounds about right,” he says with a snort. The next words out of Yuuto’s mouth were softer: “My Fee was my friend’s memories of me. They managed to nitpick something I’d done, and I didn’t get it back. He remembers nothing.”

Neku winces, Shiki gasps, Rhyme closes their eyes and sighs, and Beat… He can only think of Rhyme, and how they never recognized him as their brother. Every little thing they should’ve been able to think of, from calling him bro to their jokes and the quiet nights they’d whisper to each other, not wanting to be alone. Losing that, forever?

It’d destroy him.

“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to forget someone so close to you forever,” Neku says. He’s sitting sideways on the chair, legs draped over one of the armrests and his head against the other. “I mean, the memories are just gone? How do you not realize you’re missing something? How do other people not notice, if they were so close to you?”

“I remember,” Rhyme sighs. “I remember what it was like to forget. It’s like, you know that person exists, know who they were to you, but all the little details were gone. Name, face, specific memories… dust in the wind.”

Beat wraps an arm around them, and they lean on him. Soft touches, a solid presence, reminders that they’re there for each other. That they haven’t left or forgotten.

Yuuto nods at the words, and dangles himself upside-down off the chair, hair skimming the wooden floor. “He doesn’t remember me. He knows he had a friend, but I haven’t tried to rekindle that bond… I miss him, but I lost it all when I lost my Fee.”

“Well hey, maybe you’ll get another chance someday!” Shiki says, cheer infused in her voice. “Not every end is final, and even if he doesn’t remember the details, I’m sure he’d love to have an old friend back.” She’s hops up on the back of the couch, feet hanging in front of the back cushion.

“The world begins with you and all that jazz, huh?” Yuuto snorts. “Your world gets bigger if you reach out to others. Maybe I’ll tell him, sometime. For now, I’ll wait and see what the future holds.”

Chat: [It’s not gay if we’re dead]

[Emo gay has added Yuuto Kimura to the chat]

Emo gay: Welcome to the dead kid’s club.

A lot of this chat is Shiki yelling about how cute Eri is.

An entire 50% of this chat is all of us being queer.

Fashion lesbian: Listen,

She’s beautiful and I’m gay as hell.

And she’s not in this chat so I’m allowed to scream.

Yuuto Kimura: Noted.

[Yuuto Kimura has changed their name to Music queer]

Music queer: I figured I should fit the theme.

Space battery: Nice name!

Music queer: Thanks I picked it out myself!

I must ask, though, why battery?

Space battery: I’m triple-A.

Skateboard ace: And they always got enough energy to charge up everyone else

Space battery: Beat,

You should take a look at yourself sometime, you’ve got enough energy to power the sun!

Emo gay: Another 20% of this chat is these two being adorable siblings so jot that down.

Music queer: What’s the last 30%?

Emo gay: 20% memes and dead jokes, 10% depression.

Music queer: You know what? Valid.

I think I’ll fit right in.

Rhyme likes Yuuto, they really do! It’s been a month since he’s joined the group, and he’s been nothing but fun. Maybe not the nicest, he likes to tease Neku, but he’s got good intentions, so they like him!

It’s just…

There’s something wrong about him.

Indescribably, horrifically wrong.

Noise do not draw near him. If one gets too close, they freeze and dart away. His mere presence wards them all, and Rhyme can sense it, the Noise are afraid.

Rhyme knows this, because they feel the same.

An instinctual terror, prickling at the hair on their arms, raising the alarm. They squash it down, tuck it away until it doesn’t bother them, but it’s there. Clawing at the back of their throat.

They’ve felt it before, in the presence of Neku’s 2nd week Game Partner. Joshua.

It’s fuzzy, grey-scaled and water-damaged, but they remember being a Noise, operating on instinct alone. They remember when they were returned to a human form, to life.

They remember the Composer.

So they message him.

Rhyme: Hey can we talk today? At WildKat, preferably.

Yuuto: Sure. May I ask why?

Rhyme: You can, but I’m not answering that here, only in person.

Which is how they find themself seated in a booth across from Yuuto after school that evening. Untouched coffee sits before both of them, steam curling up and away.

“So,” he draws, picking up his cup, “Are you going to answer my question now?”

They nod. “Your name is actually Joshua, and you’re the Composer.”

Coffee splashes over the table and over his lap as Yuuto flinches back and drops it. With a yelp, he jumps up, hissing, “Ow! Fuuuuck that’s hot!”

They watch as he hops around, grabbing at napkins to clean up. With a roll of their eyes, they say, “I’m right, aren’t I? You can use your powers if I am, no sense hiding them.”

He spares a glance at Rhyme, and then waves a hand to make the mess disappear.

“Well, I’m sure that answers your question,” he says, sliding back into his seat. “Do I get to know how you figured it out?”

“I remember,” they say. “Not… Not well, most of my time as Noise is static, but I remember what it’s like. During the second week of it all, I know Neku’s Partner set me on edge, and when the Composer brought me back, I remember that flighty feeling from then, too. You’ve got the same vibe.”

Yuuto rubs his forehead, taking a long, deep breath. “This was unexpected,” he mutters. “You want to know why I’m lying about my identity, I assume.”

Rhyme nods. “I also want to know if you plan on messing with Neku again,” they say. When Yuuto’s eyes widen, they cut in before he can speak. “He didn’t tell us what you did, but we can all see how he acts. You did something. You don’t have to tell me what you did, Neku isn’t ready for us to know, but I want to make sure you won’t do it again.”

“Fair enough,” he says, and then his color starts to bleed away.

The black seeps out of his hair, and it bounces into wavy curls. Green flashes to purple in his eyes, and his skin goes a few shades paler. Nothing about the structure of his face changes, but he takes off his glasses, and there’s Joshua, sitting in front of them.

“I’ll start simple. I promise I mean no harm to Neku.” At their snort, he frowns. “I mean that! I hold my past actions in great contempt. I wasn’t in a good space, mentally. Like, you met Neku early on during the Game, I was like that, but a hundred times worse.”

“Oh.”

He laughs. “Yeah, oh. I won’t say what I did, but it was bad, and he has every right to be mad. I didn’t expect him to want to see me, after everything.”

“He does though, so hiding behind a false face is a cowardly move.”

“My superiors would rather I not interact with him at all. This is my loophole,” he says, which, what?

It’s a puzzle, and they don’t have all the pieces, but with some work and head-tilting, they can still make out the picture. “You were told not to meet up with him, weren’t you?”

“Bingo, but they specified Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, not Yuuto Kimura, ex-Game Player who lived in America these past two years.”

Rhyme crosses their arms over their chest, leaning back. “Clever. Going to fake this forever, then?”

“Nah, working on getting that rule repealed.”

“And what will you do when it is? Your reveal will be another betrayal, another way you stab him in the back, because he’ll think it’s been an elaborate joke.” It’s dramatic, but Neku would. At first.

Joshua snorts. “I know him better than you do. I know he’ll call me an asshole and think I’m messing with him, pulling his strings, but I have some stuff I can say, which might help.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“The truth.”

“Okay, so first things first, we need to get your measurements!” Shiki says, measuring tape in hand as Eri grabs the notepad and pen.

Yuuto laughs. “No time to waste?”

The studio is a mess, mannequins with half-finished projects hanging off them, fabric strewn across the floor, needles shoved into the armrest of the couch, spools of thread in corners and on shelves, and design papers scattered around the room.

It’s perfect. Creativity spawned from this disaster, beauty found in the calamity of a localized tornado. Shibuya’s life shines bright in spaces like this, her Soul strengthened, bursting with energy.

Were he not Yuuto right now, he’d love to soak up the Imagination and refine it, give them good luck for ages.

“Of course, of course! Why dilly-dally when we can get this ball rolling?” Eri laughs, pulling him out of the doorway and into the room proper. “Now let Shiki work her magic!”

He does, standing still as Shiki measures and calls out numbers. Eri dutifully writes them down, and he lets Shiki adjust his positioning as needed to get the most accurate results.

Once Shiki has the measurements, he plops down onto the couch, a grin on his face. There’s more than enough seating for the three of them. The entire gang had crashed here the day before. “So, this thing you’re gonna have me model, what is it?”

Eri flits around, grabbing her sketchpad and pencils, before sitting at her desk. “We’re going to start with something simple first. Maybe a basic suit, or a dress? You could rock either. How do you feel about pink? I feel like it’d suit you well. Or maybe a bright green, or something more forest-y. It’d go well with your eyes.”

“Ooh, pink is always fun, but you’re right, green would match my eyes. I absolutely love blues and purples too, by the way!” He leans back, pulling out a sheet of paper for himself, and a pencil. “Musical motifs are fun, since I’m a composer of music.”

Shiki’s head snaps up to look at him, but he gives no reaction back. Eri, meanwhile is going “Oooh,” and scrawling that down as a note.

“Music notes would be cool to work into some of the things we make you in the future! Little embroidered notes and designs! It’d be super cute!” she says, a grin lighting up her face.

Danger lurks in the room, Shiki refusing to take her eyes off him, but Eri remains oblivious. He gives Shiki a wink, after a moment, playing it off with a shrug. She huffs, and turns her attention back to the doodles Eri is scrawling.

“Mm, we could add some lacework, couldn’t we?” she asks.

Yuuto sighs, tapping his fingers against the fabric of the couch. “If you do add lace, could you keep it minimal or in places that won’t rub against my skin? The texture can be irritating as all hell.”

“Noted!” Eri scribbles that down in the margins as well. At this rate, they’re no doubt going to have a folder on his preferences and design ideas.

The thought of them keeping a record on him sends a spark of warmth through his heart. Watching them squabble over design ideas in the afternoon sunlight, filtering in through the window, makes the sight look like home.

The kid sitting in front of Koki is not one he knows. It’s not one he’s ever met or talked to before. He’d been enjoying his meal when this kid walked into Ramen Don and sat across from him.

Except that’s a lie.

Koki might not know this kid with short black hair and green eyes, but he knows those glasses, he knows that grin, and he knows the Music.

“What’s up, J?”

“Shhh, I’m Yuuto like this, remember?” He holds a finger to his lips, hiding his smile. “Can’t have you talking about my secret when the others could waltz right in and see me.”

Koki snorts. “And what will they say if they walk in on their good friend Yuuto having lunch with a Reaper?”

“They know I’ve always seen the UG, I’ll just tell them the truth. I’ve known you since before I ever played, and you’re just a weird uncle type dude.” Yuuto grins, and orders some Shio while they talk.

“Alright, you got me there. I pull off weird uncle well, don’t I?” he asks with a laugh.

“You do, you really do.”

Koki takes a bite of his own ramen, slurping it up. It’s been a while since he’s gotten food with the little brat, but it’s well worth it to make sure he’s eating. The kid always forgets to take care of himself, so if Koki has to step up the family-figure role in his life to ensure he does, so be it.

“So, how’s the whole friends thing goin’, anyway? It’s been a few months so far, right?”

Josh shrugs. “Yeah, it has. It’s going good. They’re all… really nice to me,” he says, fiddling with his hair. “Like, Rhyme, the one that got Erased, they figured out who I am, and they still accept me, though… They don’t know the whole story, but still!”

Ramen arrives, and so Josh has to speak between bites now, as Koki sits and listens to him ramble. “Neku checks up on me and makes sure I’m not left out. He keeps me from retreating into my shell. Shiki and Eri have already been working on making me clothes because they need more models,” he laughs. “Beat is trying to teach me how to skateboard, and I have to remember not to heal up my scrapes and bruises because that’d be suspicious.”

“You’re happy with them all, huh?” he asks. It’s obvious to him, the way Josh lights up, even in this false form. This is the most friends he’s ever had, and it shows in the hands he waves in the air, the glint of life in his eyes, how much this means to him.

“Yeah! I mean, I wish I could tell Neku,” the blinding smile dims at the statement, “but I can’t. This is the best alternative to that.”

“Hey, in a year or two? You’ll be able to tell him, so don’t sweat about that. I’m sure he’ll understand.” With the way his mom raised him, he’d better, Koki doesn’t say, but he thinks it. It had taken a bit of digging, and it’s such a trivial fact, one thread of being related, but it’s there.

He died before he could see his little sister have children, over a hundred years ago. Now, he’s found a distant descendant. He’s an uncle, with a few greats in front of the grand, but he’s an uncle to somebody alive.

The conversation continues, both of them unaware of the figure watching from outside the window. With a snap, Shiki takes a picture of Yuuto hanging out with a Reaper, eyes narrowing.

She’s got her suspicions. They’ve grown a bit stronger now.