Expand Your Horizons

"Well that's...sort of part of the problem. So many things happened I can't be sure which, if any of them, might be the cause. The whole...endless game madness, getting my city back under my control, Neku's return, my Producer..." going missing

He shakes his head, if that was the cause then certainly he'd be having nightmares rather then not dreaming at all

"An endless list of possibilities really, and I wasn't exactly getting a lot of sleep while it was happening so I'm not sure when it even started. And its not like I can examine my own sleeping mind to find the issue"

"Mm... Might could be you're just wore out and too exhausted to remember any'a your dreams," Hanekoma posed. "That being said, knowing our history I can't help but worry about it. I feel like it would be less damaging to just try and take a look at it now than attempt a wait and see method. So..."

He drew in a breath, pausing there to brace himself. He didn't like interfering with people. Over the course of his existence that had been proven again and again. He didn't like poking around inside a person where he could potentially cause a lot of damage. But... This was a special case, wasn't it? And he got the feeling Joshua's native cat hadn't found his way back to Shibuya, so it wasn't like Joshua had anyone else readily available to turn to. Maybe Hanekoma wouldn't have seen him at all if that had been the case.

you were once among the strongest… appearing unbreakable, UNSHAKABLE… oh, but, darling, even  ROME’S  walls    c r u m b l e d    ———    ind. & selective, oc multimuse / multiverse blog. penned by ruby. 

      featuring : aedus connely, ancient phoenix with a soft spot for humanity.  

Restraint was a wavering thing. Centuries passing, he had learned patience and yet, here, it was threatening to wane. Every word breathed against his skin, they burned in the most delicious way... promises, and pleas, and gods, Aedus wanted nothing more in this moment than to give into the desires that swept through him, to press his lips in return to Hanekoma's, those features so bewilderingly beautiful.

He wanted to kiss him. No, more than that. So much more. A kiss was not enough... to merge into him, to fall into his very soul, flames and holy light blending into something new, and blinding, and lovely beyond anything he'd known before. And reservation melted to need.

A violent shudder rattled through Hanekoma's body as he melted into the kiss, his arms reaching out to encircle the phoenix wholly. His heart was hammering so hard against its prison that he was sure it was breaking its way right out of his chest. He was barely aware of the needy, broken whine that poured from his covered mouth and into the bleary kiss. His world was light and color and the scorching, beautiful heat that his firebird cast over him, through him, around him. Everything beautiful, that he felt he could see so much more even though he'd just closed his eyes against his lover.

And before he could think or even try to reign himself in, his soul broke open and he unfurled his wings, bursting bright and high and arching with their blue-white glow. A jittery, fractured static filled the air, and the holy power strained against Aedus's own soul. Lucky he was that being inhuman himself, his resistance was much more than any human soul. Uncomfortable but perhaps barely noticable through the burning, blinding love that was rolling between them.

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Natsuki can't help but gasp.

"Mr. Hanekoma, I would have given you a copy...!" She was embarrassed, she actually had planned on making sure to give him a copy. She'd just been quite wrapped up in everything and hadn't had much of a chance. "...At least let me make it special somehow. Sign it, or something."

She takes a breath, trying to calm herself.

"...You're right. I've been very lucky with my work. My boss is the one handling most of the dealings with the publisher, thankfully. When I was just doing smaller work, he made sure that I - and the other artists - had freedom to work at our pace, so long as our deadlines were met. He won't back down from that, and since he's good friends with some of the higher-ups with the publisher, they let it continue. Though they definitely do want to see something soon." She shakes her head with a chuckle.

"Mm... Could be," Hanekoma replied. "And if your art takes ya in another direction, I don't think that's bad, either. It's good to be able to explore different avenues and change the pace when you're feeling like it. I don't wanna wear out my compliments to the point I seem insincere, but I genuinely believe that anything you put your hands on will be better for it. You got outta your Game and came back, Natsuki. There's a reason for that."

He let the comment sink for a moment. Tried to let it land in a way that would stick. A Game's winners were based on their ability to influence the world around them, which is why so many influential artists, leaders, and entrepreneurs were former Players. The purpose was to spur the city into its own collective growth. He knew they had all wanted Natsuki to be able to return and enjoy more of her life, but Hanekoma himself wouldn't have allowed Joshua to pull strings just for Kariya's sake. She won her Game because she had earned it, and he was eager to see how her book and every other figure project would change the world around them.

A part of him wants to deny that he wouldn't have listened, and another part knows damn well he wouldn't have. Both parts just want to curl up and sleep till human civilization is eradicated and try his luck with whatever new species pops out of the ocean

Rather then doing that though he just grumbles while trying to stop the insufferable wetness from streaming down his face. Why does the Producer always have to be right about things?

He doesn't even get the time to process Hanekoma's hand moving before the wing it drew near has shifted to meet it. He's far too exhausted to try and uphold any sort of appearance anymore, not like there's any saving this. So he allows the wing to do as it pleases

Hankeoma's eyebrows raise together at the response that met him, "Oh shit. No one's ever preened ya before, huh? Well, I was kinda the same way. You know what these wings are, right?"

Hanekoma's hands gently brushed over the wingtips, fingers gently feeling along the feathers to study their state. He'd assumed they were so frazzled as a result of Joshua's stress, but now he was sure a good bit of it had to do with the fact that they'd never been touched. A preening was well overdue, in that case. And Hanekoma was happy to pass on the knowledge that was gifted to him. It didn't hurt to learn how to take care of oneself, after all.

"They're a part'a your soul, right? The state of 'em reflects your mental and emotional state, a lotta the time. And if you don't take care of 'em, it can really damage your soul. Same for the other way around. If you're feeling as bad as you are now, it's gonna be reflected in your wings. But I get it. No one ever told me that shit, either. It took one'a my counterparts teachin' me for me to learn how to preen 'em. I hadn't done it even once since I got 'em, so... Now they're pretty sensitive. I wonder if you'll be the same way... So I'll be careful with ya, huh?"

A smile, and then Hanekoma drew away in order to remove himself from his place behind the counter. He moved like a shadow, slipping around the edge and just barely missing the lip of the counter with his hip. Before long, he was positioned beside and behind Joshua, his hands stretched out and hovering around Joshua's right wing to slowly coax it into opening for him.

Natsuki felt a brief moment of relief spotting her family at the table, but noticed the reactions of her son and Hanekoma, immediately feeling embarrassed and wanting to run off stage. Trying her best to maintain her composure, knowing they were all cheering her on, she silently takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I, uh..." Keep it together, Natsuki! "...I wanted to tell a story that anyone who read it could find hope in. A story to hold close."

Just breathe, you've rehearsed this.

Hanekoma had applauded as hard as anyone else when the presentation was over, his pride for Natsuki bubbling and boiling over. And he couldn't help but feel even more proud at being able to give Natsuki the extra merit from her peers simply by being there. He just flashed a confident grin when he was pointed out, and he patiently waited his turn to make comments once everyone else had.

"Well, in that regard I think ya really hit the mark," Hanekoma said in reply to Natsuki's wish. "The world has never been more lonely. Having a story that establishes a sense of community is going to bring a hell of a lot of hope for it. That presentation was the bee's knees, too, so I know there's gonna be a lotta eyes on your book... Maybe as many as were definitely on you tonight. I was a little surprised since I know you don't exactly love drawing attention to yourself, but I'm glad you went with it... You're beautiful, sweetheart."

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He doesn't move for a moment, besides his wings twitching in agitation as the other spoke. RELAX he says. There's a CHANCE his Mr. H isn't like this. But is there? He tried to kill him. There's no way around it. No sugar coating the subject. Regardless of the thoughts or feelings behind it, he had, in the end, made that choice

The city had mattered to him more then HE did. He thinks back to what the other said about how much time he'd put into it, had he not put time into him too? Was that all he was to him? Something he'd spent less time on and thus something that could be disposed of? Was he a damn TREND?

There is logic behind it, he supposes. He's not as important as a whole city. Maybe anyone would have made that choice. But...

"Why" its muffled by the counter, so begrudgingly he lifts his head to glare at his friend The Producer. Trying to ignore the tears rolling down his face. His wings have also started reaching for the man, seeking comfort despite him being the source of his distress

"You're talking about Phones?" Hanekoma asked to clarify, his eyes softening at the sight of Joshua in such distress. "In my case, my Composer woulda never listened to me. If I were in the same position, making the same choice, I would not have come out the other side'a that. Because I'm not Phones, I don't have his lived experiences or his connection to Josh. My Dove wouldn't have accepted anything that came from me. It took Phones, who was in the exact same position as Joshua and still understood the assignment. Ya dig? Phones was the only one that coulda understood him in the way he needed to be in that moment. Can you honestly say that if your cat came to ya and pleaded with ya the same way Shades did that you'd have changed your mind? Would you really have called off the Game just because he asked you not to? Mine wouldn't have. He was convinced that he was wrong, and his city was wrong, and there was nothing left to do but to raze all of it. It took seeing Neku change to bring change in him, too. Phones might have made the same decision if he'd been asked to on his first day in the RG, but he grew and changed, and watching that transformation is what helped Joshua reach his own similar conclusions. It's not the same situation as the position I found myself in, even if I do admit that I made the wrong choice in my own desperation."

He took a deep breath as he let the words settle. He couldn't believe that he was even half as good at this sort of thing as some of his counterparts might have been. That didn't mean that he wasn't going to try, though. And the way Joshua's wings were bowing to him didn't escape his notice, either. Maybe this one still wasn't fond of asking verbally for help when he needed it. So Hankeoma reached up and held his hands just under the tips of Joshua's wings, close enough to be reached but far enough that he wasn't invading his space.

His shoulders are tense as the man starts to speak. Maybe he should just run out of here and die with the embarrassment of ever showing up and being this vulnerable

But what if he tells my Mr. H? What is he, my dad?

He stays put

He's sure he makes a face at some of them doing it to test him, that almost feels WORSE then the assumption he came here with. Doing it to serve themselves just garners a sigh, how dull. As for lost faith...

What does he care if they lost faith in him? He lost faith in himself. It shouldn't hurt, so it won't. He's decided as such. He tilts his head at the mention of some not even trying, wants to ask what happened there, but decides against it

He has to almost immediately push down the urge to run when his Producer straightens up, feeling far too much like a frightened bird staring down a cat. He's not used to being...scared of people, its been so long since he was really scared of anything. Why is he even scared? What's he got waiting for him at home? He hasn't yet grasped that its him who needs to wait for something at home

He pushes through the feeling, and tries to settle down, but is surprised by something brushing against his shoulder. His wings came out? Really? He's more out of control then he thought

He doesn't bother with putting them away and allows them to wrap around himself like a blanket. He follows along with this Mr. H's story silently. He knew the man loved the city, he'd always known that...he just thought that...

His eyes widen in surprise at Mr. H...er, this version of Mr. H taking it as some sort of personal attack. It was never his Producer that was the problem, it was himself, but...he seemed to be aware of that now at least? He didn't still think he hated him did he?

Wait, why does he care? This isn't his Producer. The Joshua of this world can deal with whatever feelings he has

Being assured it wasn't him viewing him as an 'ungrateful brat' has him shaking his head with the closest thing he can mange to a chuckle at the moment, he'd considered a lot of things but his friend Producer thinking of him like that hadn't occurred to him

His mood dampers immediately hearing that...THIS VERSION of Mr. H thought he didn't want him. Of course he wanted him, that's the damn problem. If he were to continue existing, then he wanted the man there

And then, finally, the words he'd been dreading hit him 'Shibuya is the one and only thing that I will ever put over him'

He KNEW he was going to say that. He knew it. He'd ALREADY said that through his actions but he just...he just...

His wings droop to the floor and he rubs at his eyes that are not moist dammit, no matter what anyone tells you! He tries to focus on the rest of what he's saying but he can't...focus...the words just replaying in his head

'Shibuya is the one and only thing that I will ever put over him'

The action has such force that Hanekoma actually flinches a bit, but he's not entirely surprised. Just looking at the state of those wings he could tell this kid was not alright, and there was probably a lot going on in that head of his.

And the pride. That kind of pride wouldn't allow him to actively show his vulnerability, even if the way he chose to hide it made him look silly.

"Relax, boss," Hanekoma said over him, maybe infuriatingly given the circumstances. "Don't forget that I'm not your cat. The reason I did what I did is likely not even close to the same reason yours did. The things I've felt aren't all that similar to a lotta my counterparts. Granted... A good number of the counterparts I've met were never even human, so I guess they got that goin' on, too. Might be that your cat wasn't, either, in which case there's a whole other set of shit happening behind the scenes that you don't know about. Not really supposed to, if I'm being honest, but I trust you can keep a secret and not rat me out~"

"I want..." he meets the others eyes and...

He doesn't know. He truly doesn't know what it is he wants. He wishes he never came here in the first place but its far too late for that now

"...I want..."

He wants Neku back, which is ridiculous cause he's the one who sent him away in the first place. He wants none of this to have ever happened in the first place, like he didn't put this all in motion. He wants to believe that Mr. H never cared for him to begin with, because it would make all of this easier to accept. He wants to just curl up in a ball and never come out again-

He's breathing too fast

He breaks the eye contact and glares at the wall, then the floor, anywhere but the man in front of him

"I want to...get at least a semblance of an idea of what might have been going through his head. I'm not naive, I don't think you're the same person"

A gentle tilt of his head telegraphed his surrender to the request, the earrings chiming like a whisper in his ear. Even if Hanekoma could tell that there was more to this story (or rather, just expect it based on the fact that it was a Joshua), he didn't mind giving an approximation. Different perspectives never hurt, after all. But he wouldn't stop with his own. If he was going to go into story time, he'd at least give a few different examples.

"Alright, sure," he said with a shrug. "I think that's fair enough. I know that some'a my counterparts have done it to test their Composers. Make sure they can handle the shittiest shit and give them some much needed growth. Some Producers do it because they wanted to serve themselves, and some have done it because they lost faith in their Composers. Didja know? Some of my counterparts never even tried to save their cities. As for me..."

He straighted up, hands pulling back and balling lightly into fists. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and peering back into the deepest recesses of his darkness. He remembered the days when the guilt would take him into its maw and swallow him whole, how he would stand in the cafe gritting his teeth hard enough to hurt his jaw while he reflected on the betrayal against both Joshua and Minamimoto. And the betrayal he felt in turn.

"It was incredibly emotional for me," he continued, his voice turning soft as he opened his eyes again. Unfocused, distant in his memories. "I love this city. I love this city because I have made it. I have poured every ounce of myself, every imprint, every article, every line, into its bricks and it's grit. I have made this city a part of myself, and I dedicated every ounce of who I was into pushing it's growth... When Joshua decided that it wasn't good enough anymore... It didn't feel like he had a problem with his life. It didn't feel like he was growing bored of his job. It felt like he was rejecting me, telling me in no uncertain terms that I was not good enough for him. Joshua, who I took under my wing and..."

He paused, eyes widening as he realizes what his wording sounded like, and for a moment he presses his lips together to reconstruct the statement in his head.

"Right..."

He isn't often lost for words, but...he isn't really sure what he wants to say. Coming here wasn't really a rational decision to begin with. It was a decision he'd made very quickly while not thinking straight. The only real thought going through his head was that if he went here he wouldn't have to deal with the eventual mess he'd create

He sighs, the mess is inevitable isn't it? No need to draw it out

A hand stilled momentarily on the glass as he used the other to pour in the coffee, making a low noise that could have been contemplation or focus. Then, with a fluid turn of his whole body, toes spinning on the floor, he passed the coffee over to Joshua. A loud and sweet aroma filled the cafe from its billowing surface, something warm and spiced and strong.

"I can tell ya what I was thinking," he replied as he stood straight again, pressing palms flat against the surface of the counter, "but if you're hoping to know why your cat did it, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to disappoint ya. I probably don't have to tell ya this, but different souls across different universes are, well, different. We might make the same decisions, but the reasons for those decisions are vastly different. So before I get all in a big long story. Do ya wanna know why I did it, or are ya just looking for answers I can't give?"