#mentioned: the grim heaper

[strawberista]

"What, me? Pfft... All right. I'll tell you a little. The name's Sanae Hanekoma. Born March 4, blood type A. I'm a Pisces, and one hip café barista, mista. I'm a big gambler. My favorite word: "windfall." "Natto" gets my tummy rumbling. As for my physical dimensions. . ."

★ Disclaimer: Unlike many, I do not assign specific years to TWEWY or to my own Hanekoma and his universe. Personally I feel each game is simply a representation of the time in which it was created and do not attempt to use technology or similar context clues to determine the year. Therefore, such elements are based on whatever reads best at the time, and Hanekoma's zodiac is based on his personality. ★

⚅ — TLDR — ⚅

Sanae Hanekoma is an angel that watches over Shibuya as its acting Producer. He’s laid back and doesn’t often lose his cool, but he takes his job very seriously.

⚅ — Table of Contents — ⚅

Use this to skip ahead to information you want to read.

⚀ General Information

Name

Nicknames

Age

Date of birth

Zodiac

Gender/Pronouns

Orientation

Race/Species

Hair/Eye Color

Height

Weight

Scars

Body Modification

Style

⚀ Personality

Positive Traits

Negative Traits

General Mood

Greatest Joy

Greatest Fear

Motto

General Description

⚀ Habits and Hobbies

Likes

Dislikes

Favorites

Spending Habits

Tics

Hobbies

⚀ Background

Childhood

Adolescence

Young Adulthood

Adulthood

Death and Afterlife

⚀ Abilities

Angel

Noise

Human

⚀ Relationships

Overview

Romance

Family

Important individuals

⚀ Canon Events

No subcategories

⚀ Links

Headcanons

Musings

Desires

Aesthetics

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

⚅ — General — ⚅

⚀ Name: Sanae Hanekoma

⚀ Nicknames: Mr. H, H-Man, Fuzzface, Coffee Man, Pops, Tito

⚀ Age: 152 (physically 36)

⚀ Date of Birth: March 4

⚀ Zodiac Signs: Pisces, Wood Horse

⚀ Gender/Pronouns: Male, He/him

⚀ Orientation: Panromantic Demisexual

⚀ Race/Species: Japanese Human-ascended Angel

⚀Hair/Eye Color: Black/Black

⚀ Height: 175 cm (5'9")

⚀ Weight: 120 lbs.

⚀ Scars/Marks/Etc: Hanekoma has very small, mostly unnoticeable scars over the majority of his body from regular bumps, scrapes, and accidents that occurred during his life. One feather on his wings is smaller than the others from where it had been pulled out many times over. He has a sizable scar on his leg from being shot by Apichisi.

⚀ Body Modifications: Hanekoma has a blue and red tribal tattoo wrapping around his upper left arm resembling his noise form. He also has regular ear piercings.

⚀ Style: Hanekoma visited a casino once and was so enamored by the uniforms there he decided to just start emulating the dress. But doing so properly was still a little too restrictive, so now he wears oversized shirts and doesn't button anything all the way. For shoes, he always wears sandals for maximum comfort. He's always got an expensive watch on his wrist, but these days he's taken to wearing earrings as well.

⚅ — Personality — ⚅

⚀ Positive Traits: Compassionate, loyal, creative, affectionate, brave, intelligent, open-minded

⚀ Negative Traits: Selfish, impulsive, impatient, stubborn, obsessive, greedy

⚀ General Mood: Relaxed, content

⚀ Greatest Joy: Creation, meeting people

⚀ Greatest Fear: Losing the city/his loved ones

⚀ Motto: "Enjoy every moment." and "The world ends with you."

⚀ General Description: Hanekoma has an easy-going personality and a generally happy disposition. It’s incredibly difficult to rile him up in any regard, and he will often simply let insulting or hurtful comments roll off of his back. He may come off as if he doesn’t take anything seriously, but in fact he is incredibly perceptive and analyzing. He has a tendency to take people under his wing, especially if he can see in them the potential for a lot of personal growth. This most often comes in the form of protecting players from shady dealings during the Reaper’s Game. He can sometimes have a parental attitude towards others, but he has no trouble at all with pushing people to their limits if it means they might reach a breakthrough in their character.

⚅ — Habits and Hobbies — ⚅

⚀ Likes: Coffee, gambling, new experiences, meeting new people, long conversations, Shibuya, art in all forms

⚀ Dislikes: Close-mindedness, extended isolation, threats to the city, a lack of personal growth

⚀ Favorites: The colors red and black, jazz and hip hop music, Haruto Abe's house blend coffee, the word windfall, natto, money, poetry

⚀ Spending habits: Excessive spender, but very careful with his money. Gambling can sometimes be the exception, but these days he leaves his cards at home to limit his gambling.

⚀ Tics: Rubbing/holding the back of his neck, rolling a pair of dice in his hand, running his fingers through his hair, tugging his chin

⚀ Hobbies: Hanekoma seems to run a café as a primary business, but in fact this is a hobby of his. He also works as a multi-talented artist that dips his hands in almost every form of art from graffiti to music to fashion design. Hanekoma takes a deep pleasure from being an active source of growth and change in his city and does so primarily through his work as CAT. More recently, Hanekoma had learned how to tattoo, and had a tattoo parlor that he runs as a hobby as well. Appointments can be made by anyone, but the business is not advertised at all.

⚅ — Background — ⚅

⚀ Childhood: Hanekoma was born and raised in Shibuya by two loving and supportive parents. His family was always lower income, though, so they never had a glamorous or fruitful existence. During summers Hanekoma would go into the country where his grandparents lived. Death was introduced early in life with the passing of his grandfather, and he was taught to accept the natural course of life. As a student, he was charismatic and did well on his work, but he would skip out unnoticed when he thought he could get away with it. He never caused a lot of trouble, but he always bent the rules as much as possible.

⚀ Adolescence: Hanekoma was a stressed teenager, but he never showed it to those around him. He began to live to please his parents and teachers, but he yearned to experience life his own way as well. Both of his grandparents now passed, he no longer took summers in the country and instead spent his free time exploring and learning Shibuya in and out. He fell in love with the city, but he also instilled in himself a wanderlust.

⚀ Young Adulthood: As a young adult, Hanekoma began to fear the retaliation from his parents for not going into a university, and so he quickly moved away from home as soon as he could. He lived by himself and spent his days living a fairly closed in life until the day his mother called him to inform him his father was dying. He rushed home immediately, and finally he made amends with them just a few days before his father's passing, learning that he'd never had any reason to fear in the first place. He lived with his mother afterwards, but she passed mere months after his father. After this he began traveling with a gaggle of friends he'd made over the years, eager to fill the void his parents left behind. It was through this venue that he was introduced to casinos, and he became addicted to gambling. He visited a casino wherever he went and lost more and more money, until he couldn't afford to travel anymore. Still obsessed with gambling, he began spending his money in pachinko parlors and illegal gambling dens.

⚀ Adulthood: Hanekoma wasted away all of his money until he could no longer support himself, and he found himself on the streets and struggling just to exist. He spent many days in alleyways and abandoned buildings. Having worked up quite a debt, he often found himself being attacked and was always on the alert, though any time he could get money he usually found himself playing street craps with it or in some other gambling den. This carried on until one particular winter he nearly died from the elements alone and was approached by an old man offering shelter. As much as he wanted to refuse, he knew he didn't have that luxury and finally gave in. The man, named Haruto Abe, took him into his home and got Hanekoma back on his feet. Therapy, a job at his own café, training in learning how to support himself, and the love and support he hadn't seen since his parents. Hanekoma did pick himself back up and went on to open his own café, Wildkat, and slowly healed into a person that loved Shibuya once again.

⚀ Death and Afterlife: Hanekoma met his end at the hands of a man he used to borrow money from. In the end his old gambling habits caught up to him anyway. Hanekoma fought to the end, but his opponent was in possession of an illicit firearm and determined not to let him get away with his life this time. Hanekoma entered his Game a little bleary, but not without help. Abe, much to Hanekoma's surprise, was able to find him right after his registration into the Game and give him pointers, with the explanation that he had a sixth sense which allowed him to see into the UG. Hanekoma followed Abe's instructions expressly and was able to win his Game, allowing him to become a reaper (per Abe's suggestion). From there Hanekoma quickly rose in rank, casually raking in more and more souls. All the while Abe kept feeding him secrets about Composerhood and the Higher Plane and angels, priming him for the position of Producer. Once Hanekoma finally reached his ascension, he was offered the position of Producer in lieu of Composer and he took it. Abe disappeared directly after this and wouldn't be seen again for many years.

⚅ — Abilities — ⚅

⚀ Angel: As an angel, Hanekoma has the ability to see and interact with the RG, UG, and HP at any given time. He also has the ability to scan living humans, players in the Reaper’s Game, and reapers. He can jump from one universe to another. Hanekoma has knowledge of taboo noise and refinery. He will not use these abilities unless pushed to extremes, however. And finally, Hanekoma has the ability to imprint on both people and players. The most common way for him to do so is through his art and tattoo work.

⚀ Noise: Hanekoma has a noise in the form of Panthera Cantus, which act as two entities with separate abilities. Leo Cantus is fast and teleports away when hit directly. Tigris Cantus can create clones of herself and can only be hit through her shadow, not her actual body.

⚀ Human: Just through his physical body, Hanekoma has considerable skill in street fighting, and he often chooses to do most of his fighting through this method (genuine quarrels, as opposed to testing an individual, in which he would use his noise form).

⚅ — Relationships — ⚅

⚀ Overview: Hanekoma makes friends easily. That being said, he also tends to keep people at arm’s length without them really realizing it. He says very little about himself while working to get to know others on a deeply personal level, earning the trust of many despite keeping himself a secret. He enjoys being social and making new friends, and he understands the power personal bonds can have on society as a whole. He actively encourages friendship, but he will never seek to deepen a bond any further than that.

⚀ Romance: Romantic relationships are, for the foreseeable future, strictly non-canon for this blog. Hanekoma is in a romantic relationship with himself, literally, as far as his canon is concerned. However, non-canon ships are available to plot and write.

⚀ Family: Hanekoma has no biological children, but he has a few canon familial ships. The first is his Composer, Joshua (@kingsmedley), whom he treats like his son. The second is a young reaper named Joel (@mundanemiseries), whom teeters back and forth from being like a nephew to being like another son. There is also Sho Minamimoto (@the-grim-heaper), whom Hanekoma considers a child of his even if he has no solid, concrete evidence that Sho feels the same way.

⚀ Important Individuals: Haruto Abe (@falseapostle) is the man that took Hanekoma in and is an angel. Hanekoma treated him as a parent in his living life and as a mentor, but after his return they grew a closer, more romantic relationship. Now that they are separated, both physically and emotionally, Hanekoma has forgiven him but doesn't interact with him at all. Raizen (@fangedstories) is Hanekoma's warden angel, an angel that checks up on him and makes sure he isn't breaking angel law. Apichisi (@catncore) and Eanas (@dandybarista) are older angel counterparts from another universe. While interactions are largely non-canon, these two have played roles in significant canon events. Similarly, their Joshua (@the-composer) has also participated in some of these events. Hope (@hopeful-hugz) is a character that is entirely non-canon for Hanekoma, however is still important to some canon events. When speaking with other characters that have non-canon relationships and interactions with Hope, they may come up in conversation. Otherwise, Hanekoma's secondary therapy works much differently.

⚅ — Canon Events — ⚅

⚀ Hanekoma and Joshua have had multiple falling outs, the last of which resulted in Joshua going to therapy and learning how their codependency was making them both unhealthy. As a result, Joshua and Hanekoma almost never come into contact anymore, for the sake of earning independence from one another. To this day, however, Hanekoma has never been so close or so attached to any other person, and even now he will put Joshua over any other person in his life.

⚀ Hanekoma met Apichisi and Eanas while traveling and refused to take no for an answer when he tried getting in their business. The intention was to help, but the push resulted in an altercation with the universe's Joshua, which then resulted in a deeply traumatizing battle with Apichisi. Shortly after this he also exchanged words with Eanas which led to his being banned from the universe altogether. Over the time of his absence he healed, and he made amends with the universe, but he still occasionally has nightmares related to the fight with Apichisi. In this altercation Hanekoma was shot with an angelic bullet that disabled his ability to heal. This is where he received the scar on his leg, a mark where the bullet once was.

⚀ Hanekoma received an arm tattoo from Apichisi during one of his visits. He imprinted on the tattoo so Hanekoma now feels his presence at all times. Apichisi then taught him how to tattoo on others as well, effectively allowing him to take up the occupation in his own universe.

⚀ Apichisi taught Hanekoma how to preen his own feathers and preen the feathers of others. Before this point Hanekoma didn't touch them at all. To this day his wings are extremely sensitive because of this, but he does preen himself regularly now.

⚀ Hanekoma developed a crush on Eanas, and it helped to cause the events of the banning situation. Canonically, he has moved past this and now remains romantically involved with himself, but non-canon threads playing on this may still occasionally pop up.

⚀ Haruto Abe reappeared in Hanekoma's life, making the excuse that he'd been unable to visit beforehand. He began manipulating Hanekoma, making him believe that he was harmless and merely misinterpreted while threatening and mistreating everyone in Hanekoma's life. Abe continued this farce with the intention of isolating Hanekoma to the point of him returning to the Higher Plane for reconditioning. But the longer he stayed in Shibuya the more attached he became to Hanekoma's loved ones. In the end, he could no longer continue the ruse and chose to end it. Hoping to make Hanekoma hate him and earn his own exorcism, Abe ripped a feather from Hanekoma's wing. Joshua attempted to exorcise him, but only succeeded in cutting him off from the Higher Plane. Abe was transferred to Shinjuku of Apichisi and Eanas's universe. For a time after this, Hanekoma attempted to pull the feather any time it tried to come in, but eventually he allowed it to heal. Ever since this, this particular feather has always grown in shorter than the others of its like.

⚀ Hanekoma began going to therapy. ★ In compatible threads, Hanekoma attends therapy at Hope's medical facility STM, where therapists have multiversal licenses that allow them to work with angels. ★ In all other threads, Hanekoma attends therapy at a regular office, and he simply avoids talking about forbidden subjects, choosing to translate them into situations he can talk about legally (e.g. explaining the feather incident as pulling out a good chunk of his hair instead of a feather).

⚅ — Links — ⚅

⚀ Headcanons

⚀ Musings

⚀ Desires

⚀ Aesthetics

[strawberista]

A diminutive answer, but that probably just meant that Natsume wasn't feeling particularly uncomfortable. Sometimes it could be difficult to read him without scanning. He turned on his heel and continued along the street, letting his eyes fall to his feet instead. The way they looked side by side, how little they fit together. But there was something beautiful in that, how different the two of them really were.

"Three boys and a girl. Hope is likely to love ya as soon as ya meet, and Joshua is likely to hate ya no matter what you do. Joel tends to be sorta scared'a people, and Sho is... Well, he's hardly around. Out on 'is own adventures. He doesn't really take to people, either, though. He's aggressive and pushy. Joshua is aggressive in a different way. He's haughty and venomous. But they've got good reasons for bein' that way. They got hurt a lot in their lifetimes, and so they gotta be guarded... Mmm... Not that I think it'll ever matter for you. I don't intend on ever lettin' you guys meet. I feel like it'd cause more problems than necessary, and you're RG anyway. There's not a lotta ways you guys could understand each other."

“ah I see....” Natsume said as he look over his shoulder 

[pureposer]

Hazuki hummed softly as he looked down upon his city with judging eyes. He was perched upon the Government Building, hands on his knees as to stabilize his balance.

He couldn't believe it - Shinjuku is finally repaired! It was...Sooner then he expected. But he wasn't to complain. Why would he complain? After all, he could feel himself become much more perked up. Much more like himself again.

If one thing is for sure though, it's that he probably doesn't need those beings around any longer. His City is okay now, he can protect himself just fine if needs be! Threats aren't much of a threat anymore...And they just hold him back. If it's up to him, they would all be gone by now!

But perhaps he could lead them on a little longer? He does like how it all feels, the attention. It might not all be good attention, but it's still attention. And it makes him feel special and different. Or perhaps he will keep them around as something to bounce back to if push comes to shove. He'll decide that later, but for now he'll let his body process it all. After all, it also felt like himself was rebuilt into a being that hasn't breathed in Centuries...

However. He cannot budge the metallic taste on his tongue at the thought of shrugging those losers away. Ack...gross! He could never care! He just hopes he can grow out of this weird....Thing. And quick.

[catncore]

♌

♌ how do they drink their coffee/tea?

❝ depends who makes th' coffee. if ean makes th' coffee then i can drink it black. if i make it, i add a little bit of milk. when it comes to tea, it's a royal milk tea an' i add a little honey to it.  ❞

[strawberista]

"Fine by me, come have a seat," Hanekoma purred, and he turned to start up a cup of coffee. "I'd offer to let ya talk about whatever is goin' on with Felidae to ease your mind, but... Well, you kinda sound like ya just wanna forget about it. So what else would ya like to talk about? Got anything going on these days? How's your work?"

It was just as worrying for him. He'd known this iteration's Minamimoto before even him, and the thought of him being in danger was frightening. But Hanekoma knew he couldn't get involved with that. That would be beyond illegal. And anyway, he knew there wasn't much stopping the Minamimoto breed. His own was always making him worry, too. He couldn't even say where his Wildcat was at in that moment. Was he hopping worlds to steal power? Was he taking out noise in the UG somewhere? Who was to say with him?

" Why not both? I've got all the time in the world right now, since I can not attend to my kitty at the moment. He's gone completely out of my range. I did get a hold of him, but said he had a pressing matter to take care, said he would get back to me when he was done. I only hope it's not the pressing matter I'm thinking of, last time that happened I found nearly half dead. Consider this a way easing my mind from the thought. "

[psychcomposer]

Alright, I have too many feelings about a video game that���s going to come out in a month that I really just need to get out. It’s been over a decade and one of my favorite games, The World Ends With You, is finally getting a sequel. I’ve been brooding on the trailers for months, and I just finished the demo, so it is time to put down my capital T Thoughts on Neo: The World Ends With You.

As a warning, this will be entirely too long. But I’m not about to keep this bound up any longer.

TWEWY is my favorite title for the Nintendo DS. It is a JRPG starring Neku Sakuraba, an aggressively antisocial teen living in the Tokyo district of Shibuya. He is suddenly pulled into a test of survival called The Reaper’s Game, where he is forced to join forces with a partner in order to survive a week of lethal objectives in a sub-planar version of Shibuya. I love the story, its such an honest and interesting take on learning to get outside of your comfort zone. But more than that, it is a game that does so much to put a modern twist on every piece of your typical JRPG. You control two characters at once, Neku with the touch screen and his partner with the control pad, forcing you to split your attention and giving mechanic weight to the idea that Neku can’t survive alone. Armor and weapons are replaced with clothes and outfits, with a character’s ability to wear them restricted not by class but by a character’s bravery. The music list is filled with punk, alt-rock and hip-hop that are a stark contrast to the symphonic tracks of other titles. Battles aren’t random impediments, but fun diversions that sport a robust reward system that encourages players to push their limits.

But even more than that, the most modern thing I appreciate about TWEWY has to be the characters. Neku, Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme all feel like believable teens that grew up in the 2000���s. They bicker, clash, and banter like teens struggling to survive and make sense of their situation. One of my favorite little gimicks of the story is just how many nicknames there are for every character. Almost everyone has earned a few nicknames. One of my favorite examples is Sho Minamimoto. He’s a reaper with an obsession with math, often infusing his speech with mathematical jargon or expressions, and seems to enjoy erecting “art installations”, which most people can only decipher as towers of trash. Over the course of the story, he gets called Pi-face, the Grim Heaper, and another nickname I can’t even mention because of spoilers. It’s just... such a nice little human touch, these kids throwing crafted insults at a human enforcer of their doom that could almost certainly tear them apart.

I’m getting into this to try to give a sense of why I enjoy TWEWY so much, why it has such a unique place in my heart. Its a game I’ve 100% completed several times over, a task that’s no easy feat with the sheer amount of collectibles and post-game objectives. Unfortunately, for the last year or two, I’ve been kind of dreading this sequel.

Neo:TWEWY has been... a long time coming. Way back in 2007 they had a whole website counting down to some sort of announcement, with the music slowly building in intensity. I remember following it with bated breath, until it finally hit zero! And we got... An ios port of the game. Talk about a let-down. To be fair, apparently it is a solid port, even managing to re-work the old battle system, one that required a second screen to work properly, into one that only needed one. But what that really offered to someone like me was the hint of a sequel, a single image of a new character being shown. They kept flirting with the idea of bringing the series back. The main cast even featured in a Kingdom Hearts game, of all things, even if they didn’t really do a whole lot. But these acknowledgments grew sparser and sparser.

A few years ago, they released a switch port of the game. Not only that, it included an epilogue! They were finally getting a sequel rolling! Of course I bought that game, beat it yet again, and fought my way to the new content and the hint of the new story ahead.

It was... Well. I found it disappointing.

The gameplay was competent, even if it was clear that the epilogue itself really hadn’t had too much put into it. One new character,  new enemies just being reskins of old ones. It wasn’t meant to be dlc itself or anything, it was just there to herald a return to the series. That wasn’t what bugged me. What bugged me was the writing. It was heart-wrenching. It just didn’t feel right. It just felt flat compared to the story I’d enjoyed so many times. But what really killed my excitement was the new character, Coco.

Now, odd personality quirks are not too unusual among the ensemble of TWEWY. Pi-face is just one of the characters that is so infused with a particular theme that it shows in how they express themselves. It’s part of the charm of them, discovering the personalities that live in this dark underworld of Shibuya. But Coco... she talks like the most stereotypical young teenager possible. unironic lols, totez (yes, spelt exactly like that, in a speech format), OMG’s, and just, like, likes everywhere! It felt like someone who knew they needed to make a quirky character but had no idea how to write one well, and just made the most stereotypical caricature possible. I hated seeing that. It embodied every fear I had about the sequel being just a cynical project, pushed forward after so many years  by people who just didn’t understand what made the original great. That mild dread was so persistent that even the release of the first few trailers couldn’t really get me excited for the game. Neo:TWEWY was shifting into 3d from the original 2.5d, with all the problems that could cause. What I could see of the story felt so much more like a generic fantasy tale with some modern buildings than the story I had grown through my teenage years with. And, well... Just look the original Neku and the new one they showed off.

Look at this. Look at one of the most vibrant, eye-catching character designs on the market for any JRPG in history, one that manages to mix purple and orange with striking lights and darks. And then look at the teenager edgelord bullshit they did with him. It’s atrocious. I hate it. He’s just another guy in a black outfit and just too much fucking cool guy protagonist power to not have the story be about him at this point. And look, I know that there’s Story LoreTM, I know that there could be some twist that explains this, I know that him being such a denial of his old self could be the entire fucking point. But let me tell you, when I saw this, I felt years of shifting, misplaced unease coalesce into a hard lump of dread.

And... Even... So... I did the stupidest thing I could have possibly done and preordered the game anyway. Don’t look at me like that, nostalgia is a hell of a drug.

But you know what? The damnedest thing happened. They released a demo for the new game a month before its release. And I played it, and... I enjoyed it.

Did you see that coming? I certainly didn’t. Welcome to the roller coaster.

Right off the bat, the writing soothed a lot of the fears I had. It felt right at home, like being plopped between to teens exchanging banter. One of the first exchanges is Rindo and Fret, his best friend, trying to meet up. Fret wants Rindo to meet him at  someplace called Wunafo, an area Rindo is clueless about. After some annoyed texting, it turns out Fret is actually referring to 104, a local landmark of a building. Fret insists that its a stylish improvement on the name. Rindo only gives him some grief about it..

I’m not doing the scene justice, or I could just be really desperate for half-decent writing, but I can’t deny that it quickly put a smile on my face. I am almost sure I’ve had this conversation before in years past myself. And beyond that, this game boasts voice acting that brings out a ton of personality in the large cast they are introducing (besides Rindo, which is a shame because he’s the protagonist... hopefully he gets over his apathetic teenager shtick eventually). Not everything is voiced, but it conveys so much appeal and personality, and even when the character’s aren’t voiced there is a conversation screen that occasionally breaks out some stylish layouts to convey mood and temperment and clearly draw from the style that made the original game pop so much.

The battles, of course, have been completely revamped. TWEWY had you control two characters, one of which you could customize by equipping up to 6 different pins that all used different motions and unleashed different attacks. Now you control up to four characters, but each one can only use one pin. But even so, it feels very genuine to its roots. An effective build in TWEWY was usually one that let you stagger an opponent so you can unload a bunch of attacks on them, and in Neo:TWEWY the game actively pushes you to folllow up attacks with characters in succession. It would be easy for this to devolve into a mash-fest, but even with the little time I had with the game it introduced a wrinkle in that- an attack that unleashed a single powerful blow, but couldn’t just be unleashed at the end of the previous combo. It needed to be charged for a while, long enough for the combo timer to deplete. So now an effective combo requires thinking ahead, and even after that you’re paying attention to enemies to dodge out of the way when they strike back. It’s entirely possible this system will flop in the late game, but so far it is robust enough for me to think that it will be one that could make me look forward to battles.

The music hasn’t impressed me so far, besides the tracks that have made the transition from the original. But I remember those strange tracks needing some time before I appreciated them too.

Finally, the story has hooked me. I don’t think that needs much more explanation. I want to see more of these characters and see the changes that have been made to the world in what I assume is years after Neku’s game. And to address the elephant in the room, Neku has not made his appearance in what is available in the demo. Odds are I will probably hate whatever they do with him. But there is enough happening in the space around it that I’m interested in exploring, and a bruised apple can still taste sweet.

Almost all of this, of course, is mostly just saying that Neo:TWEWY is not doomed to fail. There is still plenty of room for things to go wrong later on. There are entire systems I haven’t really seen in game, like shops, pin evolution, clothing and food (Though it looks like they have changed the food system significantly, which I approve of). The things that unnerved me so much in the trickle of information after this game’s announcement could still be enough to turn this sour. But I’m smiling as I’m strapping myself in for this ride now, one I’ve waited quite a long time for. Whatever’s coming, I’m excited.

[izaswritings]

all that’s left in the world | chapter seven

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: cursing, referenced character death via Neku’s situation/Reaper’s game, implied death/erasure via Inversion, and mentions of blood and bodily harm, though nothing graphic. If there’s anything in the chapter you feel I missed, let me know and I’ll add it on here!

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AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

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part seven: pact

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The sun sets.

Neku stands at the end of the street and watches, narrow-eyed, as the distant blur of light sinks below the jagged edge of the ruined city skyline. It doesn’t look quite right—because of course it doesn’t, this is a nightmare city and everything about it feels designed to be as uncanny valley as possible. He’s pretty sure it’s a sunset, though. The sky has stained a bloody red; the shadows are stretching long and thin by his feet. The cloud of dust and smog lingering in the air like a false fog has turned red too— the whole world cast in some awful, ugly light.

They’re on the edge of the city, in a residential area. The fruition of a full day of travelling through these ruined streets. It only took a couple of hours, but they’ve finally hit the end of it, the border of this twisted Game. They can’t go any further beyond this point.

There’s definitely a wall— Neku checked, and his hand still smarts from the burn—but like everything else, it’s not something he’s familiar with. The walls in the first Reaper’s Game had been clear and crystalline; this one is like blurry glass. If he squints, he can almost see through it: the suggestion of buildings, people and places alive and whole… but the way is smeared with an ashy fog. It’s as if this city has been surrounded by a great wall of mist, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

There’s no getting through that thing, Neku thinks. Not without a high level keypin, and even then, he’s not sure even that could break it. There’s something very final about this wall. Escape isn’t an option.

Argh, he can’t even figure out where they are. Those distant buildings could be Shibuya or even the other half of Tokyo, and hey! Neku wouldn’t have a damn clue. It’s not like this place has been any help. Any identifying buildings have been dusted; Neku is totally lost.

Either way, the wall isn’t coming down anytime soon. It’s useless to stay here any longer, but…

Neku grimaces, and shoves a hand back through his hair, eyeing his new partner warily. Minamimoto doesn’t seem keen on leaving; he isn’t paying any attention to Neku at all, focus entirely caught on… something.

It’s probably a tower of trash. It looks like one of his towers of trash? When they’d arrived here only twenty minutes ago, there’d been some hollow shells of cars, and weird debris littered on the ground, and the Grim Heaper had taken one look at it and grinned like a shark. Then he’d started stacking it. Neku is kind of, a little, annoyed at that. He’s also not planning on complaining. Finally, a moment to breathe.

The tower taking shape behind him, Neku watches the blood-stained air for a few minutes more, then sighs and turns away.

“We’re not blacking out,” he says, aloud. “I think we’re here for the night.” Which, go figure. The one thing that might be nice about the Game—skipping the inconveniences of shelter in an apocalyptic city—is the one thing he’s not getting. “Hey, are you listening? We should probably find somewhere to lay low.”

Minamimoto doesn’t answer. He seems intent on the tower. Neku shakes his head and moves away from the wall. Whatever. He’ll find a place himself. It’s not like they’re going to be able to go far. The sun’s setting, so… he has maybe twenty minutes before it goes totally dark.

Neku heads for one of the buildings. Sure, it’s an empty shell and looks like it might topple at a stiff breeze, but it hasn’t fallen yet all day, right? So if they’re careful, and don’t get ambushed by Noise while inside…

It’s probably fine.

It takes him a couple tries to find a room untouched. Neku gets lucky on floor number two—it used to be an apartment, probably, a small one-room place with a skeleton kitchen, whited out and hollowed and scraped clean. But there’s a bleached futon in the corner and an ashy rug on the floor and hey, it’s better than nothing, right?

He pries open the dusty window and leans out. The tower is almost completed—he’s guessing, but he’s seen enough of them to tell. “Hey,” he says.

A long pause. Minamimoto doesn’t look like he’s listening, and Neku nearly closes the window on him—let him sleep wherever then, like Neku gives a damn—but at the last moment he looks up, and his brow briefly furrows. “What, yoctogram?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel when it gets dark.” Cloud cover means no moon or stars; ruined city means no streetlamps… it’d be like the A-East mission from hell. Neku isn’t dealing with that shit, thanks. “The room has a rug. You can use it if you want.” Because hell yes is Neku taking that futon.

Minamimoto snorts and turns away, back to fussing with the trash. Neku hisses through his teeth, and slams the window shut. Whatever. He threw the dang olive branch; Neku’s work here is done. He’s tired. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is sleep.

He misses Shibuya.

He flops down on the futon and closes his eyes, and tries not to think of Shiki, or Beat, or even Joshua. He tries not to imagine what it would be like to be playing this Game with them, instead. What they would do. What they are doing now.

Shiki, he thinks—Shiki would hate this place. So devoid of color, and life, and just… anything Shiki’s ever loved. She’d despise it. Joshua too, he supposes. The lack of individuality—the lack of Music… they’re similar, in that way. It’s a weird thought, but it settles like a true thing: Joshua and Shiki would hate this place for the same reasons.

Beat… Beat wouldn’t have an opinion. He’d accept it, he’d move on, he’d adapt. He would want to keep searching after dark, maybe. He’d throw up a fist and declare there’s nothing that can stop them, not even the night. Neku would have to convince him otherwise.

He smiles at the thought. But it aches, too, somewhere deep in his chest. Neku squeezes his eyes shut. Stupid. And here I was, saying I wasn’t going to think about it.

They’ll be okay. Beat has Rhyme, and vice versa; they’re probably fine. Shiki has Eri. Joshua… well. Joshua.

Neku will be okay too. He doesn’t want to do this alone, but he can.

He can.

There’s a creak on the staircase; Neku opens his eyes and reaches for his pins, eyeing the door warily. It feels almost surreal to see Minamimoto walk in. Taboo-ified Reaper, grinning like a ghoul, slick backed wild hair and dust on his clothes, entering an apartment. It doesn’t fit his image. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to use a door.

Minamimoto clicks his tongue when he sees the room, but all he says is, “Not bad, for a baseless binomial,” and then head for the far wall.

“You’re welcome,” Neku replies, sarcastic, and closes his eyes again, this time against the headache pounding behind his temple.

He hears Minamimoto settle by the wall, yawning loudly. There’s a beat of silence. Neku opens his eyes. “…Did you see anything past the wall?”

A scoff. “No.”

Yeah, he’d figured not. Worth a shot though. Neku rolls to his back and tucks his hands under his neck, staring up at the ceiling. “We’re not getting out,” he mutters, resigned. “We’ll have to… figure out what we can do here, I guess.”

Another bored noise. No response.

“Any suggestions?” Neku says, pointedly.

“You are zetta talkative today,” Minamimoto suggests back.

“I like having an idea of where to go.” And he’s partners with this guy whether he wants it or not. He doesn’t like it. He’s not sure he’ll ever like it. But Neku can at least make the effort.

“Tch, garbage,” Minamimoto says, sounding vaguely amused. “There’s no guidelines to this problem, Player. Different parameters. Different rules. Adjust or get deleted.”

“What are you—”

“Some numbers seem set on certain equations,” Minamimoto says, like it’s an insult. “Just because you miss the old Game doesn’t mean we can’t configure this one. You’ve got to conform to the equation, constant! Can’t force a formula that doesn’t make sense.”

Neku stills, feeling struck. “That’s— that’s not—” He sits up fast, fingers curling. His teeth grit. That’s not true. It’s not. Neku doesn’t belong in the Game, and he’s not having trouble adjusting, and he doesn’t miss it, he’s just—

But his mind is stuck on it—that moment fighting the Noise, the power singing through him, and Neku bites hard on the inside of his cheek and glares daggers at the walls.

“I am adjusting,” he says tightly. “If you would just—” No, no, that won’t work. They’ve already been through this. Neku takes another breath, and switches tracks. “Hey.”

A loud sigh. “What?”

“That thing you mentioned earlier, with— that guy.” Neku stares at the wall. “What’s Inversion?”

“Do the math.”

Asshole. “Look, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“It’s easy addition,” Minamimoto says, sort of scornfully. “Look around, yoctogram! The proof is all around you. The frequencies have been made null; it’s all broken equations now. That’s Inversion. When the math holding everything together breaks down.”

Neku frowns, trying to piece it together. “So the UG and RG…”

“It’s all fallen to zero. Ugh! Useless radian. 2 + 2 = 4. So zetta simple.”

Neku resists the urge to roll his eyes. He got an answer, at least. That’s something, isn’t it? It’s definitely more than he got earlier, even if it still doesn’t make complete sense to him.

My standards are dropping to the negatives, Neku thinks to himself, and then is a little horrified at his own almost-math joke. Cool, erasing that from his memory forever.

Still, if he’s understanding Minamimoto right, then… what, all the planes, UG and RG both, have just— crashed down on top of each other? That’s…

Neku leans back against the wall, hushed. His fingers curl into his arm. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he says quietly, half to himself. “How did this happen? This place…”

“Shinjuku.”

“What?” He turns around. “How the hell do you know that?”

Minamimoto scoffs at him. “More easy math. Didn’t you see the Gov building?”

“Wha—everything here is destroyed,” Neku snaps back, but his mind is whirling. Shinjuku. Damn it all, that fits too. Somewhere outside of Shibuya, where Coco was trying to lead them to… “Wait a minute. Shinjuku was fine this morning!”

Minamimoto yawns, looking bored again. “That was this morning.”

So, what—it just became a wasteland today? Neku leans back, stunned. Holy shit. Even Shades’ attempt at mind-controlling Shibuya had taken at least three weeks to set in. This is… he can hardly grasp it.

“How did this happen?” he says, honestly horrified now, and this time the silence stretches long. Neku looks over. He half expects Minamimoto to be asleep, but in the very last echoes of light Neku can see his eyes, staring out the window. Minamimoto is frowning. That sharp smile is nowhere in sight. And there is a furrow between his brows that seems, for a moment, almost troubled.

Neku waits. At last, Minamimoto looks away from the window, and stares down at the floor. He doesn’t meet Neku’s eyes.

“I don’t know.”

He sure doesn’t sound happy to admit it, either. Neku looks away, and leans back against the futon, quiet once more.

“…Hey, binomial. Speaking of half-finished equations.”

Neku stares at the ceiling, and then turns his head, eyeing Minamimoto warily. “…What?”

“You keep losing track of the numbers,” Minamimoto says, and his eyes glint. “Zetta often, too.”

Neku considers him, parsing through that—realizes what he means, and stills, shoulders stiffening. The visions. The voice echoing through his head. He’d known Minamimoto had noticed, but…

“Didn’t think you gave a digit,” Neku says finally, dryly, and Minamimoto actually laughs, a sharp and bright sound that echoes a little in the empty air. It seems bizarrely genuine.

“I zetta don’t,” he says, grinning outright now. “But I despise working with incorrect formulas.” His smile widens. “Spell it out.”

Neku rolls his eyes, a second away from turning around and ignoring him outright, but just as he is opening his mouth to tell Minamimoto to shove it, common sense and memory rears its head. The echo of another partnership, weeks ago, the memories Neku didn’t have and how he kept quiet, kept it silent, all the way to the end of Day Two. How different things might have gone, if he’d just trusted Shiki sooner.

Neku closes his mouth. He makes a face. He thinks of Shiki, and sighs, and sits up properly on the futon, resting his elbow on his knee. “It’s…” He doesn’t even know where to begin. It feels ridiculous, to think this all started only a day ago. “There’s this voice… this girl, I think. I can hear her sometimes.”

Minamimoto looks blank. “Well,” he says. “That’s zetta fucking useless.”

Neku scowls at him. “I don’t mean… ugh, I don’t even know what you think I mean. But it’s not that. It’s like… she’s right there with me. I’ve never met her. I don’t know her—” He thinks of that flicker of a person, Shiki’s stitched pig in her hands, and swallows. “At least, I don’t think I do? But I can hear her, sometimes. As if she’s far away, and right there with me, all at the same time.”

Minamimoto seems bored, already distracted; Neku ignores him, lost in thought now. The more he speaks of it, the stranger it seems. “I think she’s from here. Maybe. She talks about… being lonely. And emptiness.” He feels a little ill. Static crackles in his ears like a scream. “She seems… really afraid.”

Whispers echo in his head. Neku looks down at his hands, and admits, “She hates the silence most of all.”

Minamimoto stills a little, at that. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and in the end he looks away, his eyes dark. They sit there together in the quiet. Neku keeps his eyes on his hands. Minamimoto stares out the window again, gaze distant, as if looking at nothing at all.

At last, he says, almost muttering it: “A null set of numbers. Absolute zero.”

Neku is too tired to think it through. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Minamimoto grimaces. He tears his eyes away from the window, and tilts back his head, looking up at the ceiling, avoiding Neku’s gaze. “…It zetta sucks.”

Neku pauses. Somehow it has never occurred to him that Minamimoto might miss the music of the city too; that this unnatural silence would unnerve him, or ache in him as it does with Neku. He turns his eyes away. He feels, for once, more tired than annoyed.

“Yeah,” Neku agrees, quietly. The silence. The twisted streets. The echo, her voice still resounding in his head— please, please, help me. It’s too much. It’s too quiet.

Absolute zero.

“It really does,” Neku says, and closes his eyes.

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“I can’t believe you wanted to keep exploring in the dark!”

It’s long past evening, the sun set and the red faded from the horizon, and this isn’t the first time Eri has said this. Crouched down in a corner of their little shelter, the flashlight glow casting twisting shadows over everything, Beat sighs heavily and kicks hard at his skateboard, rolling it across the floor.

It’s not a big shelter; his board hits the wall and bounces back, and he catches it under his foot, rolling it beneath his heel. Then he kicks it towards the wall again, because damn, what else is he supposed to do?

“I still think we shoulda gone,” he mutters, glum. “We’re wastin’ daylight!”

“It’s pitch dark,” Eri hisses back, sounding exasperated.

“We’ve got a light.”

“One dumb flashlight against the city of dark and doom,” Eri mutters, and sinks against the wall. “No. No. I am not going out—there—when those things are—”

She fumbles, inhaling sharply, fingers clenched to fists by her sides. Beat winces at the memory—man, the lungs on her. His ears are still ringing. Though he can’t really blame her. First time Beat saw the Noise, he just about jumped out of his skin.

“Psh,” Beat says now, and waves it off. “The Noise won’t hurt us. We have those pins, remember?”

Eri thins her lips, looking about ready to argue—then slumps. “I still don’t get how that works,” she mutters, and Beat shrugs. He’s not going to be the one to explain it. “Well, still. It’s not a good idea.”

Beat grimaces, but lays off, kicking at the skateboard again. It grates at him, but hey, it’s Eri’s choice. She’s the one really panicking here, especially with Shiki… well.

And while it gnaws at him, while sitting still and waiting a whole eight hours for sunrise itches under his skin, deep down Beat has to admit she’s right. Neku would say the same, probably. What are you doing? Come on, use your head. Beat can almost hear him. It sort of aches.

So he doesn’t say anything. It’s not all bad, either; they’ve got this neatass little shelter in some empty hollow of a café stand, which, score! But it grates, even so. Man, they’ve barely even started! It took longer than Beat would have liked to get to Shinjuku by foot—unavoidable, given no trains were going through there anymore, some freaky UG power thing—and by the time they’d arrived, they’d only had about an hour before the sun started going down and Eri panicked.

At least they didn’t leave. Eri was thinking it; man, Beat could just see those wheels in her head turning. But she hadn’t said it, and he’s grateful for it. His parents will worry— are worrying, probably—but if Beat doesn’t answer his phone its for good reason, and he’ll apologize later. He just… he doesn’t want to leave. It took them this long just to get here, and… well, spending the night in a ruin isn’t the best thing ever. But it would be worse, Beat thinks, to leave.

They’ve made it. They’re here. Now Beat just has to wait until the sun comes up, and then…

Soon, Phones. Shiki. We’re on our way.

Still. He feels jittery. His limbs are all wound tight with a phantom pain; Beat grimaces, and digs his palm into his thigh, rubbing above his knee. Aw, hell. He should have guessed this would happen. It’s been happening on and off ever since the car accident-that-never-was, and it’s been building to a bad day for a while now, too. Of course its kicking his ass the moment he stops moving.

He leans against the wall, sighing, still rubbing at his leg. It’s seized up something terrible, stabbing pain like his bones are breaking, but with luck it’ll have eased off by morning.

Well, Beat thinks. Maybe it will. This shelter isn’t all that comfortable, and they’re going to wake up with a lot of aches tomorrow. Shit, he might even feel worse. But then, that’s okay. Hell, compared to his situation in the final week, this is downright cozy. What’s he got to worry about this week, besides the phantom aches? Threat of being eaten by Noise? Psh, done that. Beat’s chilling.

No more time limit on his life; Hanekoma promised to help look after Rhyme; and Beat isn’t even facing this dark alone. Eri’s here! Which, granted, he doesn’t know her all that well (or, uh, at all), and the girl doesn’t seem too fond of their group anyhow… but that’s fine too. It’s nice just having company.

Eri doesn’t look like she’s really appreciating it though. This whole time she’s been as jittery as Beat feels, pacing and sitting down and standing soon after. She taps her foot like she’s itching under her skin. Her hands fiddle with her skirt and her hat. More recently she’s started messing with the brass knuckles sitting heavy on her hand; she slides it off, slides it on, makes a fist and then repeats. Beat’s getting tired just watching her.

He considers her, and kicks his board again; this time when it rolls back he keeps it still under his heel. Eri doesn’t even notice. Her eyes are glazed, off in her own world. She’s gnawing her lip to shreds.

“Shiki’ll be okay, yo,” Beat says, out of nowhere, taking a shot in the dark. Eri jolts and then stills. “She’s badass, you know? Whatever plan she’s got, it’s probably a good one.”

“Badass,” Eri mutters, and then sighs, shoulders falling. She sits against the wall, drawing up her legs. The flashlight casts odd shadows; a quiet circle of yellow light on the ceiling and a soft glow all around them, barely reaching into the corner of the room. When Eri bows her head, it makes it hard to see her eyes. “How do you know?”

“Huh? Well, uh…”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. The Game, the Reapers, the… everything. All of it. You and—that coffee guy, I got the gist of that, I think, but…” Her hands tighten on her knees. “How did you meet Shiki? Really meet her, I mean. Not that stupid lie she probably told me.”

Beat scratches his head. “Er, that’s… uh, Shiki’ll probably wanna—”

“Shiki’s not answering her phone,” Eri says, a little coolly. Beat winces. Her fingers are white-knuckled around her knees. “I—look, I just—I just—”

There’s something about the look on her face that makes Beat look away. He makes a face at the wall and then sighs, pushing his beanie up away from his eyes. “Sure, yo,” he says quietly. “I can tell you. But it’s not— It’s…” He sighs. “It’s real complicated, yo.”

Eri doesn’t move. Beat shrugs, and goes back to kneading at his tense leg. “I met Shiki same time I met Phones,” he says. He’s unsure of how to say it—even more unsure of how to break the news gently—so he goes all in. “First week of the Game, about… man, I dunno. Two months ago, maybe? It’s been awhile, yo, my memory isn’t that good.”

Eri swallows. “I knew it,” she mutters. “She was—she was in the Game?”

“…Yeah.”

“She didn’t tell me,” Eri murmurs, quieter now. Beat shifts, uncomfortable, and winces when his leg jars; he gets the feeling Eri’s not really talking to him at all. “That w-whole month, I remember, she was avoiding me, she never answered… why didn’t she tell me? If she called—I could have—”

“Our phones didn’t work,” Beat explains, eager to help, but then he pauses. There’s something in Eri’s words that strike him as off, but he can’t pinpoint it, and something about Eri’s expression makes him wary of pushing. It’s probably fine, anyway. “And Shiki…”

He cuts himself off. “…Never mind.” That’s not his story to tell, and… Beat is pretty sure that’s one thing Shiki never wants Eri to know. Entry fees have always sucked ass, but Shiki’s especially…

“I always thought it was weird.” Eri’s voice is quiet, a little bitter; Beat blinks at her, feeling strangely out of his depth. “You guys just came out of the blue, and all her stories of how you guys met in class, it didn’t… and Neku, especially, it was like—” She stops again. Her head lowers.

“Oh, yeah.” Beat tilts his head back. “Phones and Shiki were partners.”

Eri looks up. “Um…” Pause. “I don’t really know what that means.”

“Oh, uh… like…” Beat gestures. “Like me and Phones, or even me and Rhyme, y’know? You’ve gotta trust your partner! With the fighting, and with the talking, worries and everything. Sharing the burden and stuff. It’s like a, a…” There’s a word for it, he knows—p-something—but the details are escaping him. “A promise! Yeah, like that.”

Eri presses her lips. “A promise.”

“Exactly!”

“…I don’t really get it, but okay.” She looks away, towards the darkened window, and a strange smile pulls at her lips. “Haha. This is, like, so weird. You know? Everything about this really is…” Her lips press. She ducks her head down behind her knees.

Beat looks away too. The flashlight flicker, the quiet roll of the skateboard wheels over the ground; the silence, deafening, right outside the walls. He closes his eyes and thinks about Rhyme, where they are or how they’re doing; tries even harder not to think about Phones. Sees the blood behind his eyelids. Hears the bang like an echo, ringing in his ears like the shriek of tires against the road, the dull thud before the end.

And all he says is, “We’ll find ‘em.”

Eri lifts her head. “Yeah,” she says. Her voice is hoarse. “We will.”

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Sitting at the booth of what was probably a restaurant, once, before the Inversion, Shiki looks outside the windows and exhales, her breath fogging the glass. “Wow,” she says. “It’s gotten really dark.”

The restaurant is a small, ruined place; empty booths and empty shelves and windows blank and sheer. It’s creepy in the same way the whole city is, except maybe worse, because there’s enough definition left to recognize it as a restaurant—and so much missing it’s impossible not to notice how it’s been changed. At least the booth seats are soft.

It’s like living an apocalypse novel, Shiki thinks, and scrunches her face at the table. On the one minor bright side, at least she doesn’t need to eat? Though she’s not sure how that works, either. She’s still alive, just in the Game, so…

It’s too late at night to think about that, so instead Shiki closes her eyes and rests her head back against the seat. It really is dark. The only light is this strange, ghostly kind of glowing sphere Joshua summoned and then threw up above them maybe two hours ago; it’s as dim as a nightlight, and flickers like it has bad connection. It helps, a little, but… Shiki’s never liked nighttime, and here, with no moon or stars or anything, it’s almost worse.

Joshua is seated across from her, his hand resting on his cheek and one finger drawing patterns in the dust on the windows. Where Shiki watches the light, he turns and smiles at the shadows. “Surprising, isn’t it?” he says to her, almost light. “No end to the days at all. A full twenty-four hours… this Game really is something new.”

Shiki presses her lips, ill at ease with it. She fiddles with the end of her skirt, the soft fabric woven tight and warm, the cloth soothing beneath her restless fingertips. “I don’t get it,” she admits, and smooths her skirt flat, a nervous habit. “Why the long days? This doesn’t feel like the Game at all.”

“Hm. Who knows?” Joshua tilts his head. In the reflection of the glass, his eyes seem blurry and dim. “To disorient us? To tire us? Sleeping in a ruined city really will do murder on your back.” He snickers, then, as if he’s said something funny. Shiki frowns a little. “Awful, don’t you think? For former Players especially. All that time, waiting for the next day to begin… waiting for the blackout…”

“Oh.” Shiki’s fingers curl. “So this, too…”

“No missions,” Joshua murmurs. “No Reapers. No walls. Just… waiting. Until the end.”

There is something terribly cruel about it that Shiki doesn’t know how to put into words. She shivers, and says nothing.

“Yes,” Joshua replies, as if she’s spoken. “My thoughts exactly.” He sighs and leans back against his seat. “Either way, it’s working. Even I don’t really know what to expect from all this.” His eyes narrow, a little. He drags his finger through the dust on the window, a bold and stark line across the glass. “It’s getting a bit annoying.”

Shiki bites the inside of her cheek and looks away, picking up Mr. Mew just to have something in her hands. She smooths her fingers down his stitching and wishes for better thread. She has her needle, spare strands—of course she does, she always does—but for Mr. Mew, she needs better. It’s why she’s fighting with her clothes in the first place.

Still. Her fingers itch to fix something.

Joshua giggles. Shiki looks up, startled. He’s smiling at her again, small and smirking. “Bored?”

“N-no…” Bored, in a place like this? Discouraged, more like. She can’t understand how he can sit there, laughing like nothing is wrong; it’s like the whole awful situation has barely touched him at all. “Aren’t you worried?”

He tilts his head, looking bemused. “Who, me?”

“I mean…” She stops herself, and sighs. Even if he was worried, would he tell her? She doesn’t know him, and he doesn’t know her, either, even if he acts like he does. And given that she’d snapped at him only a few hours ago… “Never mind.” She frowns down at Mr. Mew. “You aren’t the easiest person to talk to, are you?”

“You’re just full of insults, aren’t you,” Joshua replies. “Apologies if I’ve been too preoccupied to chatter with you, Shiki. You need only give the word.”

Ugh, he did that on purpose. She fumbles. “No, that’s not what I…”

He’s smiling again. Shiki bites her lip and takes a deep breath. She is not going to hit him. She refuses to let him win, damn it all. “I’m sorry. That was rude. And I’m sorry for… well, I mean, I’m not sorry for what I said this afternoon, because I meant it—”

His smile has dropped, and Shiki rushes on before he can comment. “But I don’t want to fight! And I—I really don’t think you’re a bad person. I want to work together with you.” She offers a weak smile. Oh, she’s so bad at this. “So I guess, um, truce? Allies?”

He doesn’t move. Shiki looks down at Mr. Mew. “I just… can’t you be just a little nicer? I shouldn’t have insulted you, but… you say things sometimes. We’re partners, though. And if we’re here for all seven days…”

A pause. He’s quiet, just watching her, and Shiki falters again— and then firms. Her back straightens. She holds out her hand to him. “Please,” she says, quietly. “For Neku?”

There is a long stretch of silence. Joshua’s expression is a strange one; he leans back against the booth and crosses his arms, looking vaguely bothered. He turns away, frowns at the window, and then sighs heavily, as if put upon. “Oh, all right,” he mutters, and then turns to her. “Allies, was it?” He blows a strand of hair away from his eyes, and brushes it back behind his ear irritably. Then he reaches out and takes her hand. His palm is cold and dry.

Shiki pauses, startled. She hadn’t really thought he would… but he had, and for that she offers him a smile. “Oh! Um. Good.”

She takes her hand back, and then claps. Well, that was awkward. Time for a change in subject. “So! Okay. I’ve been thinking. We need to find Shinjuku’s… ‘place,’ right? What about the Tokyo Met building?”

“Wow. You’re taking this mystery seriously, aren’t you?” Joshua leans back, resting his chin in his hand. That strange melancholy is gone as if it had never been; now he just seems amused, edging into thoughtful. “Mm, maybe. They don’t tend to be in very obvious areas, though, you realize. Otherwise, Ten-Four would be Shibuya’s.”

“Oh…” Shiki leans back, fiddling with her glasses. “Golden Gai? We are heading in that direction…”

He shrugs. She sighs. This is harder than she thought it would be. How on earth had Neku figured it out last time?

…Oh, right. Joshua.

Shiki slumps in her seat.

“Either way,” Joshua says, after a pause. “We’ll head down the main road tomorrow. I’m interested in that moment of impact, you could say… the Reaper’s Skull in the sky.” He spins a strand of hair around his finger. “Who knows what we’ll find there?”

“Hopefully not a fight,” Shiki murmurs.

“Hmm. That’s a poor attitude. I’m relying on you after all, Miss Shiki.”

She laughs, a little. Miss. She’s never met someone who can be both rude and polite all at once. It’s a bit funny. “I mean… you don’t need to, do you? Aren’t you, like, all powerful or something?”

He giggles. “Well, that’s true. I am pretty powerful. But I don’t like working up a sweat.” Joshua shrugs, hands turning up and open to the air. “Besides, even I have flaws. So do keep up.”

Shiki is well aware of his flaws. The little smile on his face says he knows that, too. But in the spirit of getting along, she humors him. “Really? Like what?”

She means it as a joke, but Joshua hums. “Mm. Well, for one, I can’t jump.”

Shiki blanks for a moment. “Seriously?”

“Mm-hm.”

She considers this. “…Is it because you’re clumsy?”

Joshua blinks. Then he smiles. He turns his face away and hides it behind his hand, but she can see his shoulders shaking. “Wow.”

“What?”

“Just… no one’s ever tried to guess why before.”

Shiki’s getting the hang of this, though. “Or guessed right?” she tries.

He makes a face. But he doesn’t say she’s wrong, and for some reason that makes her laugh—for real, this time. “So that’s it,” she says, hiding her smile behind her hand. “You’re clumsy?”

“I don’t really think you’re one to talk.”

“I’m not! I just…” Her smile fades a little. She studies the table. “It’s funny. I feel like I know you a little better now.”

“Because you know I’m prone to tripping?” Joshua sounds bemused. “All right then.”

Because beyond just being Composer and all-powerful and Neku’s old partner, Joshua is becoming someone real to her. He is a boy who laughs a lot but rarely genuinely, who doesn’t give straight answers—who is snobby, and self-absorbed, and smug. Who has clever insights. Who likes mysteries. Who can’t jump.

She’s still angry at him. She still doesn’t forgive him. She never will. But Shiki leans back against the booth and thinks of Neku, week one, and finds that maybe she can do this after all. Maybe… maybe it can even be fun.

“Well, if there is a fight, I’ll do my best.” She clenches her fist. “I’ll rip them all to shreds!”

Joshua is grinning, wide and amused. Shiki frowns at him. “What?”

“So bloodthirsty. Where do you get it from?” He tugs at his hair again. He looks on the verge of laughter. “Okay. Have fun, Shiki.”

She pauses. “…You’d be helping too!”

“Well, maybe.”

“No, not maybe…!” Joshua is definitely laughing at her. Shiki crosses her arms. This is like Neku in those first few days all over again, but worse somehow. Joshua is doing this on purpose. “Ugh. Boys.”

“Not quite. But I get your point.” Joshua waves a hand through the air. “I was just joking, dear. Don’t take it so hard.”

But Shiki pauses, her thoughts derailed from the banter. Not quite? “Wait. What do you mean not… Oh!” Her eyes widen. “Are you like me?”

The moment she says it, she flushes, and wishes she could take it back. Oh, shoot, is that a good way to ask? Does he even know Shiki is trans? Wait, Composer. Wait, but maybe—

Joshua blinks at her, and then his grin gentles, something closer to a smile, almost half-way to genuine. “Mm, of sorts.”

And that answers that. “Oh,” she says.

“Yes. Well, not entirely the same experience, however. I don’t have any strong feelings about it one way or another.”

Shiki doesn’t entirely understand what he means—she has always felt strongly on who she is, from youth to now. But she nods anyway. “Ah, okay! But, um…”

She frowns a little, unsure of how to ask this. Joshua’s smile widens. “It doesn’t really matter,” he says, sounding amused. “I use the masculine pronoun because I like how it sounds, is all. It’s just words to me. I don’t connect to one gender or the other—or even neither—in any real regard.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry. You haven’t stepped on any toes.”

“I’m glad.” She draws up her knees. She still isn’t sure if she likes Joshua all that much, but that doesn’t mean she wants to hurt him, even if unintentionally. “I guess we have that in common, huh?”

“The younger Bito sibling, too. Should we make a club?” He leans back, and hides a yawn in his hand. “Anyway. Wherever Shinjuku’s Room of Reckoning might be, it’s a problem for the morning.” He holds out his hand, and that dim nightlight sphere sinks down in the air, resting just above his palm. “Anything else you want to bother me with? Because it’s getting dark, and honestly, I would like to get some sleep.”

“Oh. Oh! Right, sorry.” Shiki turns away, leaning her back against the booth, stretching out her legs. “Um… good night.”

“Wonderful.” Their light flickers and dims; Joshua cups it in his hands and then closes his fist quietly, and darkens it to a glow so soft it barely seems there at all, just enough to keep them out of the gloom.

The silence settles around them, not quite calm, not quite right. Shiki stares at the window, thinking on all that she’s learned, and everything she’s still waiting to discover. The quiet stretches. The darkness remains, eternal. She watches the glass and despite it all, can’t bring herself to close her eyes.

Is Neku out there, too? Is he sleeping in a ruin? Maybe he’s nearby, even. Maybe he’s closer than she knows.

She swallows hard. She hopes he’s doing okay. And oh god, Beat—she hopes he got home, that Rhyme is safe and sound with him. She hopes Eri found him. She hopes Eri isn’t… isn’t too upset with her.

Shiki owes her an explanation, probably. Definitely. She’s trying not to think about it. Where should Shiki even begin? She doesn’t want Eri to know she died. Or—or her entry fee, oh god, no. And everything that happened, Rhyme getting erased and the other Players, and…

It’s just easier, isn’t it? If Eri doesn’t know; if Shiki doesn’t tell her. They can be happy and laugh like nothing has changed, like nothing was ever wrong… and Shiki won’t have to think of that time from before, when she couldn’t meet Eri’s eyes, when she could hardly look at her work without hating how it never seemed to measure up. They’re happier now, aren’t they? Is it selfish to want to keep it that way?

…Probably. If Eri found Beat, then, definitely. Eri knows something is up. Eri knows something is wrong. Shiki is—Shiki is just going to have to deal with that.

Oh, she hates the dark. She always thinks too much, too loud. It’s so quiet that everything else feels like its echoing, and it makes all those little worries rise up louder and louder in the back of her head. Awful.

She takes a breath. She draws up her knees, and wraps her arms around her legs. “…Joshua?”

A pause. She hears him sigh. “Yes, Shiki?”

She keeps her eyes on the window. He sounds so calm, she thinks. So unbothered. It needles at her. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“This again? Really?”

For some reason that hits her sideways; heat flares up in her gut. Her hands clench, fingers digging into Mr. Mew. “Yes, really,” she says, sharper. “This place, this city, the silence. N-Neku. You keep… doesn’t it bother you at all?”

“Does it matter?” he replies. “Either way—”

“It matters to me.”

Silence.

“Yes, Shiki,” Joshua says, finally, flatly. She can just barely see him, sitting up straight now, the shadow of a frown on his face. “It bothers me. Happy?”

“You don’t have to snap at me.”

“And you don’t have to go starting a conversation every three seconds, and yet. Honestly, Shiki.” He crosses his arms. “You’re awfully chatty. Most people aren’t nearly so talkative with people they dislike, you know.”

“…I wouldn’t usually be.”

“Oh?” He still isn’t smiling. “Am I just special? How flattering.”

“No, it’s not that. I…” She looks away. Her own flare of irritation has died; now she just feels drained, and a little ashamed. He’d said he was tired, and she is bothering him anyway—snapping at him for nothing, almost the same way he snapped at her earlier today. “Sorry.”

“Hm.”

“Really, I am. It’s just… it’s really quiet here.”

“So you decided to yell at me.” He sounds annoyed. “Don’t people usually ignore others when they’re upset? Can we do that?”

For some reason that almost makes her smile. Shiki keeps her eyes on the window. “Funny,” she says quietly. “Sorry. You know, I… I was going to. From the beginning, actually. I thought I would…” She had taken the pact with the thought that she would ignore him, she would avoid him, she would do what was needed and nothing more. But…

She hasn’t really been doing that, has she? Instead she’s been arguing with him, and talking with him, making plans and ideas and getting ridiculously excited over mysteries. She doesn’t even know why. It just sort of happened that way.

And in the end Shiki rests her chin against her knees and says, “It’s just sad, isn’t it?” A beat. “I just get the feeling… that maybe we could have been friends.”

Another pause. Longer, this time. When Joshua finally replies, he no longer sounds irritated; his voice is low and muted. “I don’t see why that matters.”

Maybe it doesn’t. But Shiki looks out the window, quiet and worn and exhausted all at once, and despite it all, realizes she doesn’t feel as alone anymore. That in some strange way, in all the things they share and the ways they clash, Joshua being here with her makes braving this empty city a little easier.

She keeps her eyes on the window. “Joshua?”

He makes an annoyed noise. “What now?”

“…Do you think Neku is okay?”

He hesitates.

Shiki waits, but when he doesn’t answer, she looks back to him. He doesn’t meet her eyes. His head has turned away, back to the window. He is strangely silent.

He’s not smiling anymore. In this moment, Joshua seems tired too. There’s something quiet in him. Something pinched around the eyes.

“Well,” he says, softer than she expected. He taps his finger against the glass. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

It’s not really an answer. But there is understanding in it; the same uncertainty, the fearful wondering. So Shiki nods. She turns away, and says nothing more, and together they watch the midnight streets, waiting for the hour to turn.

.

.

.

And as midnight falls, on the very edge of that hollow city, a girl walks against the wind.

She is alone. She is all on her own. The last one left in all the world. Her eyes are empty and her hands close tight around a memory. She barely seems to move, each step slow and laboring, taking all of her strength. She wanders on into the night. She shivers in the cold. Her lips move soundlessly, as if aching to speak. Waiting to be heard. Waiting to be found.

She keeps walking. Step by careful step. And slowly, surely, the night moves on, and the second day dawns.

[strawberista]

⚅— @fangedstories asked: —⚅ ⚅— [Bind] to put handcuffs/shackles on my muse "You knew this was coming the minute you took him in. Looks like he failed you, Sanae Hanekoma." (non-canon bad ending to the Ward Saga) —⚅

Kidnapping Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

Hanekoma didn't struggle as he allowed himself to be bound, eyes hollow as he stared out into a far away nothingness. He had nightmares about this moment all the time. He had thought about it over and over and over again. He knew perfectly how absolutely final this all was. And honestly, he really thought he would be crying right now. Instead, all he could do was stare blankly at the ground while they tied him up.

He really didn't know what had gone wrong, even thinking back on everything he'd done. He had taken very careful steps not to break any rules in his cold rage against Joker's former Higher Plane branch. He'd operated under his regulations, filled out the necessary forms, and he'd been gracious the whole time. And yet somehow as he was finalizing everything he had been hit with this. This information coming out like a tsunami through the hivemind that Sanae Hanekoma had been continually breaking his parole. That he had been committing crime after crime, and somehow everyone suddenly knew what he'd been up to.

He didn't know how they'd gotten the information or from where, but he'd stood in stunned silence as he listened to every transgression he'd ever committed blasted across the hivemind in great detail. It hadn't taken them much longer after that to come and apprehend him, and now he didn't know what to do. A terrible knot twisted in his stomach as he was prepared for incarceration. He knew that he'd never get to see Shibuya again. Or if he did, it would not be as who he was now.

Joshua, Joel, Minamimoto... Api and Ean and Queenie... Hope and Emi and Hazelnut... Kariya, Uzuki, Izumi, and Natsuki... Tsubasa and Uriah and Pinky and Aoi... Yir and Aku and Beat and Raizen... Joker. Every person he had ever met gone from him entirely. Every person he had ever loved, no longer a part of his soul. Stripped bare and broken. Stripped bare and broken. Joshua's worst nightmare....

Hanekoma turned his eyes up to Joker and Raizen, eyes wet but still not a tear to be see, and after swallowing several times he finally spoke just two words: "I'm sorry."

[strawberista]

"I don't mind. I love small talk," Hanekoma hummed, not really looking up fro his work but acknowledging Uriah all the same. "Nor would I say you're exactly 'unusual'. Different would be a better word, in my opinion. Different to a lotta things I've seen, but not something I can't handle. I don't know enough about the world you originated from to really say for sure everything that's goin' on with ya, but I think I understand a little better why you think there's such a difference between darkness and light. You're made out of a light element, so it makes sense. But here... Well, things get a little more muddled than that. It really only applies to the afterlife, but certain items have what we like to call affinities, and light and darkness are only two of fourteen of these affinities. And these affinities don't really oppose each other as much as they oppose certain beings in the afterlife. It's not really something I should be talking about yet, though. We'll save that for when you've passed away."

He talked about death so casually, but that probably had something to do with the fact that he himself was already a ghost, as he'd called himself. A ghost with the ability to exist in the living world, and live in an apartment and cook food just like it were any other day. He stood there just pleased as punch, adding ingredients to the pot to heat before the chicken was added.

"And yeah," he continued, finally turning away to better address Uriah while he waited for him to finish with the chicken, "I do like to cook. It was something I really fell in love with once I started working in a cafe. And the care and love that gets put into a dish, I really couldn't ignore the poetry of that. I loved it. It makes me feel good to... To be able to cook for the ones I love."

That was a little bit of a sore spot. Even his children really didn't get to have a meal with him too often. Joshua was forced to keep a distance from him since they were so bad for each other, and Hope was busy traveling all over the multiverse to learn and grow and help those in need. Joel and Minamimoto had been silent, and even his attempts to reach out to them had gone largely unheeded. He was alone, most of the time, and the best he could do was send things off to be received at a later date, when he wouldn't be there to see them. It could be incredibly isolating of a feeling, if he thought about it too much, but he chose not to linger on it, to instead pour his pride for them and their growth into that hollow place instead. It was healthier for him that way.

Uriah had begun to season the chicken as he occasionally looked over at Sanae when he wasn't looking and kept looking him over before going back to continue what he was doing. "So.." He said as he sprinkled some pepper that he had in a small measuring cup on different parts of the chicken.

"You enjoy cooking. As do I. Although currently I'm trying to master certain Italian dishes. I mainly cooked for myself because I was alone for a very long time. It's a hobby of mine besides studying magic." He said before he began to put the other seasoning on the chicken. He then chuckled.

"You can probably tell I am an unusual being. Although I prefer the term different." He replied as he finished with the seasoning and turned towards Sanae. "I do hope you don't mind the chit chat as we cook."

[falsusverum]

@the-grim-heaper liked for a starter!

♛ ~ An unpleasant pounding was what greeted Yozora as he awoke, in a familiar, yet foreign place; it was what appeared to be a city, albeit, now that he opened his eyes fully, the light of day was piercing through his mismatched gaze. He still wasn’t quite used to the sunlight, but each and every day was progress.

However, while this was indeed a city, it certainly wasn’t Aeterna. Just where had the silver-blond ended up during his travels...?

That was without mentioning the fact that, as he was coming to his senses, that Yozora found it incredibly strange that no one even bothered to offer him a helping hand up from the street. It was like they didn’t see him at all.

“...this is odd.” But odd seemed to follow the former Prince wherever he went, so it was practically a normality to him at this point.

[abstractreign]

What made you pick up this character? ( → @yoakkemae & @the-grim-heaper both !!)

( → canon questionnaire !! sent in from a good while back )

{ i just remembered i still had these in my inbox oops— in any case, it turns out i've actually already gone over the main reason why in this post from way back, but it's been nearly a year since then and there's more i can say now that i've been writing him for as long as i have:

i think i've mentioned this a few times in the past, but out of all of the characters i've roleplayed as over ten or so years, josh has become the one i've been the most consistently active with; a lot more than even the most consistently active of my original characters. he's become the one with the most substantial relationships built over time with other characters, the one with the furthest personal development since first taking them up, and definitely one of the most versatile and complex.

though there may be times i struggle with parsing things like my headcanons or replies into something coherent enough for posting, he's easily among the muses i write that i grasp the most intuitively. like, you can ask me anything about my portrayal, and i'd have to hold myself from going into a stream-of-consciousness ramble as my answer.

picking him up as a muse has absolutely strengthened my appreciation for his character to a whole 'nother level, and it's because of that, that i look forward to seeing where he goes next.

[strawberista]

"I've got plent'a company," he purred, though like most of what he said this was only half truth. "I've got kids. Just, ah, ya know, kids that didn't really have anyone else to turn to. I took 'em in and I've been looking after 'em. They keep good company. They're good people. And besides them, I've got other friends from around here, I've got regulars. My life is full'a people."

Nevermind the fact that he never saw any of his kids. Or the fact that his regulars were all suits that he had to do work with for Gatito. Nevermind the fact that his friends were all from other universes far and away from anything he could visit on a regular basis, try as he might. The truth was that he spent most of his time alone himself, isolated from the world in a most frustrating way. The fact that he could come face to face with many of the people that wandered the streets, build connections, and then have to encourage them to move on and spread their wings. He couldn't let anyone get close enough to lean into them, to rely on them. That wasn't how his role worked.

But he wasn't going to tell Amara that. She'd had a bad experience and she was understandably wary of it. He didn't blame her for being distrusting, but he stood by his principle that the world only started turning when new connections were made. When bonding happened between people and their worlds got just a little bigger. It was a catalyst to human growth, clashing with the ideals of others. She needed to learn that, too, and so he wanted to guide her that way.

"I would say that my life is more wonderful with every new person I meet," he purred. "After all, I opened my door to you and you're wonderful~ There's always the chance you're gonna get hurt, sister, but it's worth it to expand your horizons out as far as they'll go. You'll be better for it, and it'll be better for you, too."

     “ I entirely agree. Isolation can take a toll sometimes. I won’t lie and say I’m fully impervious to how quiet it can be when you’re on your own. But, not to risk being a bit emotional tonight, the last time I allowed someone close to me, knew them well enough to consider them a good friend... “   Words halted for a moment and, after a breath, her tone hardened,   “ I had the delightful experience of learning, first-hand, what arsenic poisoning feels like, thanks to this dear friend deciding he couldn’t abide by what I am. Since then, I haven’t felt the need to have another friend like that. “ 

Her features softened into a smile, again, slowly, anger fading.   “ It is kind of you to be worried on my behalf, though. It’s sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet.   ----- What about you? Don’t you ever get lonesome here? Even all these people coming past, surely it feels as lonely as a night in the mountains, alone, sometimes? “

[pureposer]

Actually I think I should Tag Mentions in Threads So gonna do a lil' Tag Drop so I don't have to Write them out when needs be or whatever - but hopefully I can Remember to Actually put the Tag there.

If I Missed Anyone I've Interacted with out, Please tell me! My Memory is. Really Bad.

[strawberista]

"Don't tease 'im too much, or he'll run away and I'll never see him again. Seriously. I don't wanna lose 'im."

[strawberista]

⚅ — @mundanemiseries asked: — ⚅ ⚅ — 28. felt at total peace with themselves and everything around them. ? — ⚅

A Moment in Time Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

It was late afternoon and Hanekoma had just finished all of his work for the day. Normally he would go out and try to find some place to lay down a new tag, but today he was taking the evening off, and so was Haruto. It was easy to choose to stay with him on a day like today, when the weather was so nice and the apartment was so cozy and there was nothing to do but cook a fine meal together and banter back and forth with soft praises. And he was completely consumed. By the way the food smelled of love and devotion around him, by the way Haruto would put his arms around his waist and draw him in, by the soft records playing beautiful songs from the other side of the room. It almost felt unreal, like a dream.

He would have loved to have dinner with the whole family, but Joshua was out doing some work and Joel was spending time with Minamimoto, and so the two of them had the apartment to themselves, a dinner to share in each other's company as they laughed and complimented each other. Even though the whole family couldn't be there, Hanekoma didn't mind so much, just getting alone time with the angel. And the food tasted as much of love as it had smelled, and he could feel himself getting a little high off of it as Abe reached across the table and lovingly caressed his jaw, and he could feel himself melting into the touch, as if his whole soul could be poured into the warmth of that hand.

After dinner came preening, and Hanekoma couldn't help but bury his face in the down of Haruto's feathers at least once, and kissing them, and enjoying the way the man ruffled the appendages beneath him. And Haruto's wings were so beautiful once they were finished, and he looked every part like a real angel, and how quickly he straightened himself out with playful chiding over Hanekoma's carelessness. And then it was his turn to be on the receiving end, and the way Haruto preened his wings had him turning into pure liquid right in his hands. And it was safe and comfortable, and the way Haruto made quick work of the dirt and knots, and the way he praised and spoke honey-sweet words into Hanekoma's ear, and the way he pressed kisses to the nape of his neck, it drove Hanekoma insane. And he felt safe calling out unrestrained, allowing Haruto to drive him to madness with it.

As the evening drug on Hanekoma was continually spoiled by Abe in every way imaginable, and they were quite distracted by each other well into the evening just talking and laughing together. And when it finally became heated Hanekoma fell easily into Haruto's arms and his care, and nothing about himself was hidden, no secrets kept between them. He was exposed in every way we could be, inside and out, and Haruto tended to every insecurity, quelled every dark thought, brought comfort in both the emotional and the physical. And when they were finally stretched through to the end of their day, and Hanekoma was curled against Haruto's chest in the bed, he could see that somehow they had done all of that before the sun had even went down. And somehow there was still a beautiful orange light peeking through the window above him and casting a golden glow over everything.

And he couldn't help but think how right everything felt. How peaceful his world had become since Haruto had arrived in his life again. How wonderful it all was. How happy he had become.

And he never wanted it to end.

[strawberista]

{I'm mobile but I just remembered I meant to post this like a long time ago, but it's headcanon time.}

⚀ Decaf is extremely protective of his native Sho Minamimoto (@the-grim-heaper ). He knows that a good bit of what happened to Sho was his own doing, and while he never exactly manipulated him, he knows Sho wouldn't have had to go through nearly as much if he hadn't taken him under his wing. After observing Sho protecting Shibuya during the NEO timeline, he was convinced that there was a lot more to him than just wanting to be on top, and his first assumption hadn't been wrong.

⚀ Decaf has tried ever since to get closer to Sho, and now they are family. He will not allow Sho to be erased by anything preventable. So for example, he will always rush to find counterparts that have entered the city first so he can vet them. He knows that many of them seek to eliminate their counterparts, and he refuses that fate to fall on his own. So he makes sure whatever visitor has arrived knows that his own is protected.

⚀ He knows he can't protect Sho from everything, though, and he gets particularly worried when he disappears for a while (since his own Sho may also be eliminating counterparts). But no matter what, there's always a warm meal waiting for Sho when he comes back.