Chapter Text
"Your loss, then."
Neku just looks at him. His voice is almost - no.
Joshua walks closer to him, and they stand face to face. The Udagawa mural backdrops Joshua, and Neku remembers being as close to the mural as Joshua is to him now when he died for the first time. He remembers the sheer terror that coursed through his body then - the gunshots, his body hitting the pavement. A bit of that fear now creeps into his body. But not fear of Joshua, though - Joshua who places a hand on his shoulder, and it makes Neku feel steady on his feet.
He remembers well the sudden force of the shot in his chest, he remembers the world blurring in an instant and he remembers the pull he felt - the gravity, the tug as if the Earth were reclaiming something lost to it. He feels that pull now, like a reminder. He glances at the mural behind them, its nostalgic comfort familiar - yet something like trepidation continues to creep into Neku’s body, but it's clearly not where they are, either.
Joshua says something Neku can't quite hear - everything else is loud, suddenly, things he never thought of as loud, things that he hardly noticed - the undeniable hums and rhythms of the UG, the voices of the people even in the relative quiet of Udagawa - it's an undeniable call, a once more - would he ever be back to - his chest hurts, but this is a good thing, it’s time to go -
Neku is already shifting, he can feel it, but he has time to briefly see Joshua's gaze drop down, bangs overcasting his eyes. The world distorts around him and Neku wonders if this was always painful - he doesn't remember going back to the RG the first time, but right now he feels as if his body is being split in two. His insides are being pulled, yanked, gripped, clawed at, like a predator sinking into its prey. Is he dying, really dying, being Erased? Is the RG itself not going to accept him anymore?
He feels numb, then, just nothing, an absence, a disconnection and then a complete emptiness that is worse than pain.
But a moment later the world is in focus. Neku looks around - he is around the Shibuya station corner, that’s for sure. He stays still despite the swaths of surrounding foot traffic - people move around him as he tries to figure out which way to -
People move around him.
It's expected but Neku almost gasps. He accidentally makes eye contact with someone and they look away from him awkwardly. Neku's heart races.
He speedwalks through the people, weaving between them, weaving between them. It feels odd, strange, to be conscious of this. It’s odd and strange that it feels odd and strange.
He rounds the corner to Hachiko and its usual crowd. The girl - woman, now, really - is easy for him to pick out.
She looks at him when he says her name, eyes giving him a once over - as if to try and make sure it's really him, as if she didn't recognize him at first. Neku wonders if he looks that different.
There's tears and, as Beat makes sure, many hugs. Happy tears, cathartic tears. Neku assumes, anyway. He doesn't cry himself. But he smiles, he makes sure he is smiling until his cheeks hurt. He's home, he tells himself. He's finally home.
Eventually the sky starts to tinge orange.
"Yo, we should go grab dinner all together!" Beat says, grin a mile wide.
Rhyme claps her hands together. "I think that's a great idea! A celebration is definitely in order."
Shiki's smile is soft and nostalgic. She looks to Neku and it fades, though. "Neku? Are you okay?"
"Hm?" Neku meets her eyes. Of course he is. He's home.
"You look exhausted. You're pale, your eyes are glassy…"
"Oh, Neku, she's right," Rhyme says, brow knitting together. "You look like you haven't slept in a week…"
"I… guess it's just been a long day," Neku offers. Of course he's tired. "You guys aren't tired? Not after everything that happened today?" Even Shiki had been there, according to Beat…
They almost all tilt their heads at him.
Beat scratches his back. "What're you talkin' about?"
"Oh," Rhyme chimes in, finger pointed up, "Neku, did you just now arrive in the RG? Maybe… I don't know how it works, but we've been waiting for you to show up here every day… for the past week. All of us working together to help the city… that was last week.”
"Oh…" Neku says, puzzling that one out. "Yeah, I… no. That just happened… I feel like that just happened."
"Hey, no matter what's going on, you gotta get some rest!" Beat slaps a hand on his shoulder and Neku nearly stumbles. "When I got home after that I passed out right on the couch. We can have dinner tomorrow, yo."
"Beat, silly, tomorrow's booked," Rhyme says teasingly.
"Oh! Right. Well we'll figure it out."
Neku wants to protest. He's fine. He really is just tired. Or maybe exhausted. His eyelids feel heavy even just standing here, and the last thing he wants to do is worry everyone or put a downer on the mood.
"I'm sorry, guys," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Don't be!" Shiki says quickly. "Really," she emphasizes with a gentle smile. "We're just happy you're here safe and sound…"
Beat throws an arm around Neku, and then Shiki, and motions for Rhyme to get in. They laugh a little and squeeze each other, and then Beat steps back as quickly as he had grabbed them. "Alright, enough of this sappy shit. Le's bounce and let Phones hit the hay."
"Take care, Neku," Shiki says. "Text us anytime!"
Neku nods and smiles in what he hopes is a warm way, and turns around and starts making his way.
A few moments later Beat calls after him. "Yo, where you headed?"
Neku turns around. "Uh… home?"
The three look at each other, and then back to Neku. "You takin' the scenic route?" Beat asks.
Neku furrows his brow. "Huh?"
Shiki has a hand on her chin. "Wait…" she says quietly, and motions for Neku to come back over. He does and she continues, "If Neku… this Neku - our Neku… hasn't been here for three years… I mean, what… um, you have no idea what's happened during the last three years, right?" She looks up at him and it's not hard to see the unease behind her eyes.
Neku's stomach feels about as heavy as his eyelids now. "Uh… no, I… not anything besides what we just talked about…"
Everyone is quiet for a moment. "You… um, you live in a dorm," Shiki says slowly. "You start college next semester… but they let you move into your dorm early last week…"
"Wait. But I haven't -" Neku stops short a second. "I didn't… I just started high school."
"This is whack," Beat cuts in. "My head's startin' to hurt. I remember meeting up with you after school, man. I remember helping you move into your dorm… but I know you haven't been here for the past three years…"
"Maybe…" Rhyme starts, pausing in thought, "I mean… maybe I should text Kaie. He might know something. This sounds to me like…"
"Neku, it had to have been Josh who sent you back here, right?" Shiki asks.
Neku just nods.
"Yo, what's his problem?" Beat says, rubbing his shoulder. "Why's he gotta make things so confusin'?"
"Maybe it's the opposite," Rhyme says. "Think about it. Neku wasn't here for three years… but there's evidence he has been. Isn't that better? If there wasn't, he'd be someone who vanished for three years, and then came back with no explanation. Think about when we came back to the RG. Three weeks had still gone by, but everyone seemed to act like we'd been there for all of it. I think this is the same thing, just… longer."
"Whoa. I guess that makes sense." Beat looks up in thought. "But…"
"Three years?" Shiki repeats softly. "That's…"
"That's a lot to have just filled in for me, yeah," Neku says with a heavy sigh.
They look at him and fall quiet.
He shakes his head. "But I'll figure it out. No need to worry." He doesn't pretend to himself that the smile he makes is genuine.
"You want a walk over? I can show you the way," Beat offers, slapping a gentler hand on Neku's shoulder.
Again, Neku shakes his head. "It's fine," he says as he takes out his phone. "Can you just… show me where it is?" He offers the phone to Beat, maps open. Beat hands it back with some foreign address entered. About a ten minute walk, apparently. "Thanks."
Neku waves again. He thinks maybe one of them is going to say something. They certainly look like they want to. But they don't, and he thinks he's thankful. He heads off, skimming the crosswalk.
Neku's mind spins as he goes. Three years. Three years. He remembers, like Rhyme said, that when he came back after his first Game, yeah, it was like to everyone else that he hadn't been gone at all. But this? He isn't sure what else he had expected, he supposes. His heart is pounding. College? How the hell is he supposed to do that? Okay. He has time. It's fine. The semester isn't starting till April. He has plenty of time - a lucky break that he had the chance to get his bearings. It would be fine. It was jarring when he came back the first time, and of course this would be amplified. But it worked out and it will work out.
He gets to the dorm building. And he stops.
What dorm is he in?
Wait, what if he has a roommate? What if it's somebody he's supposed to know?
He sighs and rubs his forehead.
Okay. A dorm. So maybe… he starts fishing in his pockets and hears something jingle. Perfect. He takes the key out, and it even has a number engraved. Simple. Things will be fine.
He follows the signs and finds the room easily enough. Bracing himself for the worst, he slides the key in and unlocks the door.
It's dark. He gestures around for a light switch and… whew. One bed.
He shuts the door behind him. It certainly seems like the average dorm. It fits a bed, a desk, a small couch, a bookshelf, and not too much else.
Neku’s still exhausted, for sure, but he can't just sleep right now. Hm. His phone is a logical place to start… he goes to sit on the bed - his bed - but stops short.
A corkboard hangs above the headboard. Pinned to it are various photos, notes… mostly photos of Beat, Rhyme, Shiki, Eri, and… him. He stares at them - captured times he obviously did not remember. That really, he, himself, was no part of. Them at the beach. Them at an amusement park. He stops looking at the photos.
There's a school schedule pinned as well… a problem for future him. Glancing at it, though, it seems like a lot of art type classes… he's an art student? All he does is sketch, sometimes… or he did… he groans lightly and looks for something, anything familiar, but he knows it's useless.
Or not totally. There's a picture of the Udagawa mural. That's something. He guesses.
He falls back onto the bed and sighs again. It's fine.
His phone contacts are still fairly sparse. Some names he didn't recognize… but only a couple. His messages were pretty much all in a group chat of him, Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme. He has photos of… stuff. Random stuff, mostly, it seemed… stuff for art, maybe? Some photos of his friends…
He locks his phone and drops it next to himself. It'd be fine. It’s a lot. But it’s normal to be overwhelmed. Right? Who wouldn't be? ...Well, who else had gone through this to attest?
He lets his arms fall over his face. A warning would have been nice.
Wait.
He snatches up his phone again and scrolls through his contacts… no Joshua. Messages… nothing that would have been between them, either.
Why? Because Joshua didn't need to be… rewritten into reality, or whatever? Would it mess with something? Or - no.
But how is Neku supposed to talk to him? He doesn't know his number, and it's not like any of his friends would have it… perhaps if there was some way he could contact Mr. H, but Neku has no idea what's going on with him - the café looked like it had been deserted for quite some time… Neku's stomach twists a bit. No, surely he wouldn't just… but past -
Neku squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. One day at a time. One day at a time… One day… he remembers standing at Hachiko. One of those days… one day… one day, surely…
He feels sick to his stomach, but the exhaustion pulls him under.
The night air is chilled. Or it feels more chilled than usual to Joshua. He hangs his legs over the edge of 104's roof, crossed at the ankles.
All else is the same. The city is bright, as usual. The stars are nigh invisible, as usual. The people, notes on sheet music below him, go about their business… as usual.
The city hums its usual. For the most part.
Joshua is unlikely to take special note of any one sound out of place - there are, literally, well over a hundred thousand. But this one is impossible for him to not notice. It's louder, to Joshua, it's distinct to Joshua - it's unmistakable, to Joshua.
He closes his eyes and listens intently. It's to be expected. It doesn't make listening to it any better. But Joshua continues to do so.
Eventually, it quiets. Just a bit. A discord, but at rest. And then Joshua notices it: another key out of tune, a mismatched rhythm, very much not at rest.
He leans back, taking a deeper breath, looking up at the starless sky.