This is not Shibuya— this is not his lively city that thrived with vibrant noise and freely flowing imagination. Perhaps it is a dissonant noise that crashes against him, but he can hardly hear a thing here, like this. There is no kind of noise that bleeds through his veins the same way Shibuya does. Even his former proxy feels like a dull echo of the vivid noise that he could once hear. That knowledge is what sours him the most. You can only pretend so much before he has to face cold, hard truth. Joshua has always been rather good at pretending, though.
Whatever kind of place Vraelgard is, it’s a far cry from Shibuya. Nothing makes that more plainly clear to him than the way Neku stands before him.
( He’s kind of wishing he brought the gun with him. Not that foam bullets could really hurt physically, but mentally it might’ve been enough to drive some kind of wedge between them. Maybe even relive some nice traumatic memories. Fun times! )
“Since when did I ever follow the rules?” Even if he might not know the full extent to which Composer meddled in his own game, it’s not like it was exactly hard to see that he had, in hindsight. Sure, his actions probably could have been equal parts helpful and sabotage towards Neku, even then he really doesn’t think this is something surprising, in any case. “Unlike you, being dead doesn’t stop me from existing in the world of the living.” And like that, he acknowledges that fact— no tact as per usual. It’s a curious matter, even if Joshua doesn’t acknowledge it as such; he’s held a number of souls in his hands, watched some of them slip between his fingers and fall away from him ( he can’t help but wonder to what extent the beings here are capable of ).
“…Do you understand? A death wish like that…would upset your friends, wouldn’t it? Hee hee.” Perhaps he is the one that does not understand, then. After so many brushes with death, do you really not— well, he’s not in any place to judge. Joshua had stood before the crossroads of life and death and chosen for himself too, after all. A tinge concerning, considering the potential proxy has for life, but even if it leaves a bad taste lingering in his mouth, it’s none of his concern. It’s not his world: he has no say in what Neku decides to do. No point lingering on unpleasant memories.
“You don’t need to sound so thrilled, Neku. You never had a problem saying no before— so just say so. You won’t hurt my feelings.” Before, the usage of past tense begs acknowledgement that things have changed between the days where he messed with him during his second game, and where they stand at now. What has changed: Composer could guess at, but does not wish to acknowledge it. He doesn’t need the ability to scan to figure this one out. Friendship? You’re going to make him laugh, Neku. You can’t be friends with—
Well, Neku has always been sharp. Joshua does not appear before him entirely willingly, and should proxy express a desire for him to leave…their paths would not cross again for quite a while, likely. He is sure that they both understand this fact quite plainly. To the boy who had expressed a desire to see someone who’d wronged him before: he could hear all of Shibuya’s thoughts with ease from up top, and ignored them ( but that does not change that the thought was heard ). He does not quite understand why Neku would want that— an impossible feat, he’d once said, to understand. Perhaps that’s not quite it, rather, maybe it is that he does not wish to understand.
It doesn’t matter. Understanding, not understanding; it is not his world, his life to be meddling in anymore. He needs to focus on the task at hand. “Use your head, Neku, I said escort mission. Don’t tell me you can’t even figure out that much anymore? I’m not being nearly as cryptic as Minamimoto’s missions were.” Besides, anything else would require too much effort on his part— everything requires too much effort when you’ve got a fraction of your normal powers, but he’s not going to acknowledge that now. “Incidentally, Neku, which region did they place you in?”
Neku Sakuraba—ever an artist, ever particular for only a few certain but niche details and for the small things that stick to his memory forever—would be lying if he hadn’t forgotten how obnoxious his old partner was.
He’s forgotten a lot, of course: his own identity, when it was once required; an old friend, if one ever existed; and most of his memories of the past, back when the world felt grey and bleak and ever stagnant. But Joshua still sticks out as a rotten nuisance—a rulebreaker, a rival in persistence and selfishness, perhaps to two extremes—and with a week and some extra to prove it, Neku won’t ever forget it. Maybe that’s what makes these conversations worse: this is all stuff that he should expect, but it doesn’t make him want to shut him up any less.
( At least there’s a possible reason behind all the trust, at least to an outsider: how, no matter what insidious ideas slip from Joshua’s mouth, Neku can at least expect some kind of consistency from them.
…And, sure, it’s a terrible, inexplicable thing to trust—but the mind and heart both work in inexplicable ways. )
“Definitely not since last month,” Neku answers, without hesitation. He would pretend to think about it for a bit, just to breathe before Joshua continues, but it’s not like it’d help after the next comment. How nice of him to bring that up—you know, being dead yet again, because it’s not as if Neku can go about his day and stay alive. Still, he’s obligated to answer ( and even if he isn’t, it doesn’t stop him from wanting to, ) so he bites his lip, glues his arms close to his chest and swallows down his growing anger.
“That must be great for you,” however, is what he ends up saying. The remark is stained by ash and fire, and followed up too quickly. “I never knew! I mean, you didn’t bother showing your sorry face after everyone came back, so I thought you were as good as erased.” No, he didn’t; he thought the very opposite, but of course now, of all times, his snark would take over. It’s not as if Joshua says anything that’d bring the conversation back a level.
“Of course it would. I wasn’t planning to die tonight, anyways.” Even with the risks he was taking, or the apathy brewing at his side? Perhaps, after everything, a death wish would upset his friends—but there’s certainly one it doesn’t seem like it’ll affect, right? For him to ask that is remarkable, especially when logic dictates that there is only one way he could’ve taken the position he holds now. Neku won’t pry, though: even to someone that he still wants to understand, there are some places where even trust and bravery can falter.
Ah, right. Well, as exhausting as it is to talk to Joshua, Neku can’t deny that he still wants to talk to him, regardless. ‘Change’ is too weak a verb for the effects of three weeks, and though his old partner may want to sever ties, Neku would rather hold to them without letting go. Perhaps it is impossible for a human thrice killed and a boy with the talents of a god to talk to one another; but, even if it should be impossible, or if all the heavens will try to stop him, Neku will reach out to him anyways. Still, “Just because you’re still a pain in the ass doesn’t mean I’d say no,” is how he replies—and that is all from him on the matter.
“I am using it, genius. But I wasn’t told where 104 was today, was I?” Maybe your advice is, for once, appreciated, Josh. “They put me in the southern region. Where are you supposed to be?”
( If it’s on the other side of Terra, then maybe tonight its citizens will get to see one of its visitors disappear. )