expand your world.

     ❛ i’m not the dumbass who had his eyes glued to the damn sidewalk.

It’s taken great strength, as well as having to overcome self-loathing, for Joshua to show up. Eyes have been cast down everyday, though, to actually appear in this form once again feels somewhat shameful. He expected some sort of rude comment, perhaps even to be turned against once more, but this response is surely startling. Joshua continues to smirk, perhaps, one day he’ll be able to actually smile. Though, right now, that’s impossible. Slender fingers tap upon pale arms, crossed as they always are.      “You’ve always been easy to spot out of the crowd, Neku.”

There’s a certain kind of tension. One that’s easy to ignore. Always has Joshua been uninterested in anyone else, though, he wonders at this moment what Neku’s thinking. Is he angry? Most likely so. Upset? Who knows. He expected change, and yet, it somehow feels as though nothing has changed at all.                 “Don’t tell me you’ve been running into trouble again, hmm?                    Can’t say I’d be surprised.”

     There isn’t anything different about Joshua. Prickly and difficult as always -- Neku would be lying if he said he expected otherwise. It’s refreshing in way; the interaction is it’s own twisted version of a reunion of the killer and victim, and they’re painted out as two ordinary friends meeting up for the first time in what seemed like years ( even if it’s only been about three weeks ). Yet, Neku doesn't hold a bitter taste on his tongue, can’t seem hold any resentment towards the Composer. He deems Joshua’s actions as unforgivable, that much is for sure. But what he knows -- what he’s exposed to is a long lost partner who was lost in the everlasting clash of creeds that was Shibuya’s Game.

          “ ‘Course I am. The crowd’s never been my thing. “

     Their meeting alone is unusual, save for the fact no one but themselves are knowing of their prolonged journey, contrived of a lone boy’s misery and endurance; a living ( except not so really living ) hell. How fitting for the two of them.

     ❛ you ran into me.

      ＂… ＂

      ＂Nuggets – ? ＂

      ＂That’s not what I meant. ＂

Once again do eyes fall upon the familiar face, indescribable emotion swells, though all is cleverly hidden by the same smirk, acting as a gate to which hasn’t a key that fits, locking away what true feelings Joshua may harbor. He acts as though nothing has changed, when really, it feels as though the whole of Shibuya has been redeemed, casting him back into the shadows to once again wallow in his own misery, suffering with a smile, as he has been doing for countless years now. Despite words that have been spoken, the whole concept of a ‘friend’ is still something unimaginable. Still, Joshua speaks as though not even a day has passed since their last encounter.         “——- Still wearing a face as stubborn as ever, Neku.”

Perhaps his unfamiliarity is unwelcome, but even so, to break the silence is to conquer one step already. His tone holds absolutely nothing, acting as an empty shell, whatever there was prior has been cast into oblivion.

     A CAST SHADOW is splayed along rubble; manipulated by the sun’s light to take the form of a once lone boy, his slender dactyls meddling with the intricate structure of indigo headphones. Lithe frame leans against the statue like it’s a routine, and silently does he time his lingering presence. The clock ticks down by minutes, seconds, so he waits as he’s always had, ever since the end of destiny’s deathmatch between him and Shibuya itself. There’s always been a lingering hope that he might show up. No -- Neku’s always known that it would happen.

          “ Heh --- figured it’d be easier to recognize me that way. “