started working on this last year, finally finished and posting now :)

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Netherlands

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Latvia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Japan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore

seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
started working on this last year, finally finished and posting now :)

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed
Title: One Blank Concrete Wall, Primed Rating: T/PG-13 for swearing and bloodless violence Word Count: 13,700 Pairings/Characters: No ships/Genfic. Neku, Joshua, Hanekoma as main characters. Appearances by most everyone else from TWEWY including Beat, Rhyme, Shiki, the reapers Warnings: brief mentions of past trauma/death (some of the Reapers discuss why they died), angelic/eldritch body horror (no blood or gore), imprisonment Summary: Nekuâs in college now, and other than passing through Shibuyaâs subway station to get to other parts of the city, he doesnât really stop by much anymore. But when he gets a serious case of artistâs block before a gallery show, he decided to go back to his old stomping grounds to get inspired. Partner: @soundofezâ and @songsummonerâ Authorâs Note: This was a fun, super weird piece. I also did some art for it on top of my partnerâs work; all the art from me and my partners will appear in the correct parts of the fic on my AO3 link, which will go up Oct. 2. Iâll link in reply to this post with it when thatâs up so you can see some really weird stuff (my own art is included below, though!!). Special thanks to Fez for designing college-age Nekuâs clothes.
Also, Neku fights (and apologizes to) a building.
Enjoy!
XXX
Neku sighed. Squinting, he rolled up the blinds on his studio apartment a little, taking in the view. One window, the Skytree. The other, he could glimpse the top part of Sensoujiâs pagoda. Asakusa was no Shibuya, but it had lots of car free pathways, quirky art stalls, and lots of tourists to draw. And it was a heck of a lot cheaper than living in Ueno.
He could walk to campus in about half an hour on a good day or take the subway just one stop to Tokyo University of the Arts on a bad one. It was convenient and, while a touristy area, surprisingly quiet.
Too quiet today, though. Neku fired up his tablet, pinging his friends. They always called everyone in a big group chat, though there was no obligation to answer.
âSup, Phones?â Beat grinned into the camera, a giggle heard in the background.
âBeat, are you ever going to actually use his name?â
âI am though!â Best objected. âNekuâs tag is a pair of headphones. Itâs practically his name at this point.â
âYouâre not going to win on a technicality,â Rhyme chirped, turning the camera so she was in frame. âWeâre between takes, anyway. Whatâs up, Neku?â
âShit, did I interrupt a shoot?â Neku hovered over the hang-up button.
âI just said we were on break!â Rhyme reiterated, flailing her hands in front of her. âBut Beat is shooting with your deck!â
His friend, who had only grown more muscular with the past five years, hefted up his skateboard, showing off the art of a flying squirrel on the undercarriage. âItâs still the sickest one Iâve got. Youâd better have another one in the wings when it gets decommissaried, yo!â
âDecommissioned.â
âWhatever.â
âItâs not whatever, Beat,â another voice popped in, the newcomerâs eyebrow quirked in a hint of static as the visual flickered on.
âSup, Shiki!â Beat said, waving wildly.
âMeet me for drinks when youâre done shooting? I can hop on the subway. Itâs only a stop.â
âHowâd you know where we are?â
âBeat, you always skate in Ikebukuro,â Shiki said matter-of-factly. âAnd Iâm at school, so Iâm only a stop away from you.â
âOh. Right. Sometimes I wish we kept our mind reading powers,â Beat said with a pout.
âNoooooo thank you,â Shiki said with a grin. âAnyway, whatâs all this about? Iâve got ten minutes âtil my Fashion Sales class.â
Neku scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepishly at the camera. âI⌠er. Kinda needed some advice. Iâve got a gallery class where my one assignment is supposed to take the whole semester and Iâm a bit stuck. I need to hand my draft proposition in by the end of next week.â
âWhatâs the topic?â Rhyme asked.
âThatâs the thing. The artâeven the mediumâis up to me. Every fine art track has to take this thing. So, it doesnât need to be painting, but I have to secure a space and create a work to match it. Like, get permission to paint a building, or something like that. Private or public property, just no vandalism. Street paste or yarn bombing is OK in public spaces. Basically, as long as itâs non-destructive; otherwise we need permission from the owner.â
âSo, you need to scout out a place and make something that compliments it?â Rhyme asked.
âYeah. And we can work together if we want. I donât know my classmates well enough to know if our styles clash though.â
âSounds tough.â
âThatâs why itâs my whole assignment.â
Beat frowned. âIâve got a good sponsorship going with Wild Boar. Could see if you could tag one of their shops.â
âMaybe,â Neku said. âBut I want to step out of my comfort zone a little if I can. Itâs a good backup.â
Shiki bit her lip. âMaybe you just need a little inspiration.â
âLittle is an understatement.â
âWhat about that tag mural in Shibuya? Would that be fair game?â
The chat went silent. That wall in question was public property. It was absolutely not gameânot for this assignment at least.
âWhy?â Neku almost whispered, hoarse. âWhyâd you even bring it up?â
âBecause itâs been five years, Neku, and you havenât gone back. CAT did what youâve been assigned; he was a street artist who also did all these kinds of hired art too.â
âHanekomaâs gone,â Neku reminded her. âI stopped trying. The shop was destroyed. If he ever came back, heâs not in Shibuya.â
âThen⌠ignore my bad idea,â Shiki said, not meeting eyes with the camera. âSorry I brought it up.â
âNo! No,â Neku reassured her, forcefully, then quiet, as if he were a deflating balloon. âSorry if I snapped.â
âYou didnât snap,â Rhyme offered, before changing the subject. âIâll think on it though; thereâs gotta be some struggling coffee shop that could use some art, or something. Anyway⌠we need to get back to work, now.â
âAnd I have class. Neku, letâs chat tonight, after dinner? I can swing by your place. We can go get conveyor belt sushi over by Nakamise.â
âThat⌠sounds pretty good, actually. Yeah. Letâs.â
âLater, alligator!â Rhyme said, chipper.
âYeah! Later!â Shiki added.
âLetâs bounce!â Beat snuck in as Rhyme ended the call.
Neku was left alone to his thoughts.
Shibuya.
He and his friends romped through the city almost every weekend after they were all brought backâat least at first. Eventually exams took over for Shiki and Neku, both hell-bent on getting in Bunka Fashion College and Tokyo Arts respectively. Beat slowly got more and more skate sponsorships with Rhyme as his videographer, making her new dream to shoot the worldâs best skater: her brother.
Neku closed his eyes, imagining the gleaming, ad-drenched skyscrapers, a far cry from the view from his apartment window.
Maybe.
Maybe it was time to finally go back; maybe Shiki wasnât wrong. It was his old stomping grounds, his old home. And it was only a few hundred yensâ ride away.
Neku pinched his forearm once to ground himself, grabbed his wallet and a scarf (courtesy of Shikiâs weaving class, in a sturdy textured purple crepe) and headed out the door.
Xxx
Nekuâs palm touched plaster and concrete. Slowly, he slid his hand along the wall, breathing out an exhale. Even in his high school years, when his friends would regularly bum around Shibuya after school and on weekends, he avoided the mural. It wasnât that he stopped liking it; just⌠He felt he didnât need it anymore. He had plenty of CATâs art to keep him company, from the pins in his pocket to the billboards throughout the city.
Maybe he was young and naĂŻve back then, but looking at the faded piece, partially obscured by other, less impressive tags⌠well, it didnât seem very impressive anymore.
ââCourse it isnât, you brain-dead binomial,â a familiar voice sneered from behind him. Neku whipped around to see Sho Minamimoto, cat whiskers and all, grinning with fanged teeth.
Sho put up his hands as a peace offering, sensing Nekuâs hackles rising. âIâm not attacking the living; donât get your panties in a bunch. Iâd really rather not get divided by zero. Again.â
Neku relaxed his shoulders a little but said nothing.
âYouâre a leaky faucet, you single-digit integer,â Sho explained, as he pointed to a vending machine, sending a pair of CC Lemon bottles flying out of it and at the two of them. He leaned against the mural, back to it, sliding down to sit and sighing with his drink. âI miss CAT, too, you know. Been the square-root of 25 years since anyoneâs seen a new piece of his. Some of the reapers actually thought it mightâve been you.â
Neku laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. âMe?â he asked, plopping down next to his former enemy, accepting the citrus-flavored peace offering. âI was fifteen. And CAT had been active way before I was born.â
âThought it was a title, you dumb fractal. Like Pope or Emperor.â
âExpert street artists are called Kings and Queens, you know.â
âAnd dead ones are Angels,â Sho added with a sage nod. âTrying to one-up a Reaper on art is like trying to find the cube root of i.â
Neku stared down at his soft drink, thinking of Hanekoma. The title suited him in more ways than one, thanks to a little packet heâd found in Mr. Hâs shop back when he and Beat snuck in to see if there was anything they could save. Since Hanekoma was CAT, there had been a pretty strong likelihood some of his art was still in the ruined cafĂŠ, but sadly there wasnât any evidence in there at all. Neku saw faded marks where canvases and an easel had once been stacked in a curious empty back room; someone had beaten them to clearing it out.
Sho pulled Neku out of his thoughts eventually, after one intrepid skater ate pavement attempting to grind the Cyco Records railing.
âWhatâs eating you, pain-in-my-vector? Well, former.â
âYou donât hold a grudge?â Neku asked curiously.
âItâs a long afterlife. Grudges are useless.â
The two sat in silence for a while, watching the skaters try their new decks outside the Wild Boar at the midpoint of the T section.
âYou gonna ask me why Iâm here?â
âI know why youâre here,â Sho replied testily, tapping his temple. âWas waiting to see if youâd give me the proof out of your mouth.â
âRight. Mind reading.â
âI canât see every piece of the equation; thatâs not how it works and you know it. But I can solve for x and fill in the blanks.â
Neku sighed. âWhat can you see?â
âThat youâre stuck on a hard problem and youâve been staring at your homework too long.â
âAnd by problem you meanââ
âI canât tellâjust some big project is eating you up. At least itâs not Higashizawa. That hectopascal can eat a man whole. Iâve seen it.â Minamimoto slung back his drink. âSo, whatâs eating you?â
âI mean, other than you being alive again?â Neku asked, eyebrow raised.
âStill dead as I was last you saw me.â
âLast I saw you, you were crushed under a vending machine.â
âEh, Iâve had worse days.â Minamimoto shrugged. âThat infinite asshole of a Composer fixed me back up and sent me right back to work. Now stop stalling, you obtuse angle. Out with it.â
âArtistâs block,â Neku admitted sheepishly. âIâve got a big project coming up and I just canât think of the right thing to do.â
Sho laughed, his head flung back and whole body shaking with the action. âArtistâs block, you dithering digit. You donât think we Reapers never deal with that shit? At least for you, itâs not fatal.â
âF-fatal?â Neku asked, almost dropping his bottle.
âWe run on Imagination,â Sho said, chucking his emptied-out drink with force, sending it flying halfway down the alley into a recycling bin attached to a vending machine. âNo Imagination, no power. No power long enough and poof, divide by zero. Crunch. Drop a vending machine on me? Iâll walk it off. Go too long without making somethingâŚâ
Sho went uncharacteristically quiet, running his fingers through a hole in his jeans.
âSo, what do you do when youâre stuck?â Neku finally asked.
âI raid the trash. Something always finds its way to me.â Sho pulled a loose thread and threw it to the wind. âI donât just mean the garbage; I mean the rest of us. Talkinâ it outâs helped. I used to think I didnât need anybody else. But then I got subtracted out so many times by you ân Prisspants, well. Donât want to admit it but dividing up the workâs helped solve the harder equations.â
Neku smiled, offering a hand. âI can leave you my number if you ever want to talk shop.â
Sho blinked twice, confused. âYouâd⌠help me? I was an irrational digit.â
âSo? I was an asshole teenager. I pass through often enough. Itâs not much trouble, especially if youâre feeding me,â Neku admitted, shaking his now empty bottle. âYou try keeping on weight on a college art studentâs budget.â
âYeah, all right,â Sho said, standing up, swiping Nekuâs empty bottle to shove in one of his myriad pockets. âA balanced equationâI dig it. Iâm using this in my next piece,â he added, tapping the bottle with a hollow thud. âThanks⌠Neku.â
Before Neku had a chance to even realize it was the first time Sho called him by name, the Reaper had vanished back to the Underground, out of Nekuâs reach.
Xxx
Neku stood at the mural a few minutes longer, rolling the plastic bottle cap in his fingers. If Sho was alive, well, less dead, then Joshua was still haunting Shibuya from somewhereâHanekoma, too.
So why was the mural so worn out? Had Mr. H run out of new inspiration himself? Neku sighed, no more ready to tackle the assignment as he hoofed it back to the station, tossing the bottle-cap into the recycling as he passed.
The CC Lemon Sho had expertly pitched was mysteriously absent from the top of the pile.
âIf Sho went dumpster diving to make recycled friendship bracelets, I think Iâll actually bust a rib laughing,â Neku muttered to himself.
âHonestly? I wouldnât be surprised.â
Neku whipped his head around to see a Reaper in a basic hoodie. A faceless grunt, one of at least tens, if not hundreds, patrolling the city. No visible wings, so at least Neku could remind himself he hadnât gone sliding into the UG. Just another Reaper coming up to the RG for air. Or to pester him.
Or both.
âDo I know you?â Neku asked, eyeing the teenage-looking apparition in oversized clothing.
The boy huffed. âThe Reaper Review remembers you.â
Neku laughed and relaxed a little. âAt least youâre not the Reaper who made me show up in all Mus Rattus to break their barrier. Or the other one who made me get them a chili dog.â
âWhen youâre a minor officer, youâre allowed to send Players on wild goose chases,â the Reaper said with a shrug. âIâm just happy I was allowed to block mine with trivia. I hate fighting.â
âYou and me both,â Neku grumbled.
The reaper tipped his hood back slightly, enough to show Neku his ethereal looking eyes. âI overheard you had artistâs block. Er, sorry. Didnât mean to pry. Itâs the worst.â
âGreat. Is my mind safe from any of you?â Neku groaned, though it wasnât in anger. He couldnât complain. Hearing the livingsâ thoughts just happened when you were dead.
âActually, I was guarding the mural and overheard your chat with the Lieutenant.â
âOof. Minamimoto got a demotion?â
âHe seems happier in the field, anyway,â the Reaper replied with a shrug. âMore time for his sculptures and harassing players.â
Neku looked at the Reaper curiously. âSho mentioned you all do art. Have to keep your Imagination up.â
âThatâs⌠not entirely true. I mean yeah, gotta keep the creative juices going or we stop existing. But it doesnât have to be through art. Cooking, dance, whatever goes. When Iâm stuck, I usually learn from another Reaper. Gives me some perspective.â
Nekuâs smile widened. âYouâre right, you know. I need to broaden my horizons. What do you do?â
âMe? Uh⌠I design puzzles. The player traps and stuff.â
âUgh,â Neku groaned.
âYou paint, right? I remember seeing some of your tags under the Miyashita Park underpass a few years ago. Youâre pretty good. Maybe⌠try heading over near Shibu-Q? The Reapers that dance usually practice that wayâsidewalk is wide enough. Loosen up with some life drawing or something.â
Neku smiled. âI have to do an installation project, but you know what? Thatâs not a terrible idea. Thanks.â He looked to the corner where Shibu-Q stood and then back at his nameless friend, but the Reaper was already gone.
Xxx
Neku didnât know what he was expecting to find outside Shibu-Q, but a pair of Harrier Reapers doing acrobatic dancing was not it. Neku smirked as he watched the reaper woman with electric purple lipstickâUzuki, if he remembered correctlyâpirouetting before using her friend as a vaulting block to spin up and over his back.
The two continued their routine, the manâKariya, Neku remembered after a few embarrassed moments of mental fumblingâseeming lazy and unmoving but carefully and precisely supporting his partnerâs flashy moves. The two continued for another ten minutes or so, then each held out a hat for change.
Neku patted himself down for his wallet before dumping three 500-yen coins in Uzukiâs hat as it passed around. She glared at him a moment, then pushed the coins back in his face.
âNot taking money from you,â she snipped. âI already owe you enough. Shoo.â
Kariya looked over his shoulder at Neku, momentarily confused. After all, the two of them hadnât aged a day while Neku was now a lanky, slightly scruffy young adult. Realization crossed the Reaperâs features slowly, eventually tugging his mouth into a half grin. Kariya offered Neku a backwards half-salute and went back to waving his hat around for change.
Eventually the crowd dispersed. Kariya loped over to Neku and Uzuki, clapping Neku on the shoulder. âHey, kiddo. Youâre as tall as I am now. Good on you. Howâs life treating you?â
Neku couldnât help but laugh at the double meaning behind the words. âBusy. College.â
âYou know, I wondered when I would stop seeing you run around the RG so much over here.â
âNever mind me,â Neku said, sloughing off Kariyaâs friendly gesture and looking at the two of them. âHow are you holding up?â
âHow do you think?â Uzuki spat. âThere werenât many powerful Reapers left after that messâat least for a while. So, some ass went and got themselves promoted to Conductor.â
Kariya looked down at his feet, blush going all the way across his face. âItâs not like I asked for it; I wasnât given a choice. At least I negotiated that I could do things my way. Uzukiâs my GM.â
Neku frowned. âSo⌠then you know the Composer.â
Kariyaâs eyes went uncharacteristically fierce. âThatâs on a need to know basis andââ
âRead my mind then,â Neku countered. âThereâs something I do need to know.â
Neku closed his eyes and thought of Joshua. What he really wanted was to talk to Mr. Hanekoma, but the only way he was going to be able to do that would be going to Joshua first.
Kariya whistled low. âOkay. Fine. Kid, come here a sec.â
âKariya, come on. Why are you even telling this kid anything? Heâs alive. Andââ
âHe knows about Josh, Uzuki, Iâm not giving him anything new. Just⌠maybe pointing him in the right direction.â
Uzuki pushed a loose strand of burgundy hair from her eyes. âFiiiiine, whatever. Youâre the boss.â
âYouâve seen him?â Neku asked quietly.
ââCourse I have. Heâs my boss,â Kariya said with a sigh. âThough he only comes to speak if he feels like it. Iâve caught him sulking over past the Miyashita Park underpass though. No clue why. Out there is just a bunch of sporting goods stores and Josh and physical activity mix like oil and vinegar. Hope that helps. What do you need him for, anyway? Youâre alive.â
âItâs not him Iâm even looking for,â Neku admitted. âI want him to tell me what happened to an old friend.â
Kariya relaxed a bit. âIf said old friend has anything to do with the UG, might as well ask me.â
âIâm looking for CAT.â
Kariya frowned, scratching the back of his head in contemplation. âCAT was a Reaper? Heâ or she, I guessâ stopped doing anything new after I became Conductor. Yeah. Youâd have to speak to Josh. Thatâs before my time and below my pay grade.â
âThanks anyway, Kariya,â Neku said, genuinely appreciative. âItâs better than nothing.â
âAnytime. I hope you find what youâre looking for.â
Neku closed his eyes a moment, sighing quietly. âHope so too,â he muttered, opening them to an empty sidewalk.
Xxx
Neku headed eastbound towards Cat Street, passing Stride on the left. Gone were the Tin Pin banners, long since replaced with whatever new plastic toy battling fad that had taken hold of the local kids.
âYou know, I heard a commotion from some of the older guard that a carrot was running around Udagawa.â
Neku had whiplash. Poised behind him with a cigarette loosely held in between his middle and ring finger was a face Neku couldnât believe he was seeing.
âSeven?â Neku asked incredulously. He reached out his hand for the bleach-blonde, swaggering musicianâs to find it cold as ice. Neku frowned. âSmoking kills, you know.â
777 played with the cigarette between his fingers. âHow dâyou think I died?â He gave a cocky grin. âActually, I fell off a roof rigging an abandoned warehouse party. This is why you do safety checks. Tenho still gives me grief about it.â
Neku smiled weakly. âThat bites.â
âThe dust? Oof. Yeah. But hey, all three of us went down at once. The party scattered and when we showed up to play a new set a few weeks later nobody realized we werenât exactly alive. They probably thought we broke a bone or two at worst and hid to lick our woundsânot cracked our skulls on the sidewalk.â Neku winced. âEr, sorry, Orange. Didnât mean to dredge up anything bad on your end. Just odd, seeing you back.â
âLooking for someone,â Neku admitted. âThe owner of the cafĂŠ that used to be on Cat Street.â
âHanekoma? Stopped in there for coffee sometimes. Bit odd. His shop didnât have the Player decal, yet he definitely served stiffs. Reapers as customers is one thingâwe can go to the RGâbut⌠hell. What do I know?â
Neku flocked his eyes up and down the street. Not that it mattered; Reapers could be in the UG right next to him and he wouldnât know. âYeah, he could see the dead.â
âESPer or something?â Seven asked, blowing out a smoke ring that looked like a bat. Now he was just showing off.
âSomething like that.â
âWell, fat lot that did him. Shopâs been MIA ever since I got recommissionedâmaybe earlier. All I remember is, I had a double shot espresso there the night before that gig you helped me with, got blown up like two weeks later, and when Iâm back to my good old dead self, the shop looks like it got exploded too. What the hell went on in this city that week?â
âWar,â Neku said grimly.
âAnd you won, didnât you?â Seven elbowed him in the shoulder. âYouâd be one of my types now if you hadnât.â
âYeah, I did,â Neku said, throat dry. âThanks for the chat.â
âYou come to our next gig, you hear? Youâve gotta be old enough to drink now. VIP for you ân the cute chick you were with. Or, uh, anyone else. Donât know if asking her would be awkward. She made it out, didnât she? Please say yes.â
Neku smiled. âShe did, and weâre still friends. Iâll ask. She wonât look like how youâre expecting though.â
âNeither do you, not-so-short stack. Now get outta here. Iâm gonna finish my drag and get back to setup before Beej screams me out. Later.â Seven snapped his fingers and the cigarette exploded in a puff of blue fiery smoke. âOpen invite, Orange, just tell the bouncer âgolden batâ at the door.â
Xxx
Neku inhaled. He knew past here was Cadoi, then Miyashita.
Then Cat Street.
Neku passed a small spot under the park underpass where Beat and Rhymeâs flowers had once been placed, leaving behind a tiny finger skateboard. Beat would probably punch him; Rhyme would find it hilarious. He did it to honor his once dead friend. Some kid would probably see it, and abscond with it, and play with it till it broke. Beatâs skateboard, in the hands of some kid passing byâit was fitting.
Neku let his memory walk him the rest of the way to WildKat. It stood as it had since the incident: a broken front window, a door barely hanging on its hinges. How it remained like this almost half a decade without developer intervention was shocking, honestly. Or maybe not, if divine intervention was involved.
Neku inhaled and took a step forward.
Again.
Again.
He carefully swung the door, afraid the whole thing would come off the frame in his hands. It squeaked something awful but hung by a thread.
The inside was worse. Neku should have brought one of his paint masks with him. The place was a fire trap of chipped plaster, dust, and mold. An old safe in the back corner was open on its hinges. The only things that looked clean were the sink, two sealed jars of whole coffee beans, and a single drip carafe, the rest of the row shattered beyond recognition.
Nekuâs sketchbook and a mechanical pencil set still sat atop the dust-crusted counter. Heâd left them there when he and Beat had returnedâ the only time Neku stepped foot in the shop when he was aliveâto check on the shop.
To check on its owner.
Leaving the sketchbook behind seemed fitting. It was half full of random crap, and half empty, nothing but open promises in the end.
Maybe Neku didnât need Hanekoma, or CAT, or the old shop. Carefully, he made his way around a splintered bar stool, sidestepped a broken glass pitcher, and hauled himself up on the only stool left in sittable condition.
Reverently, he opened the book. He almost laughed at his fifteen-year-old selfâs sketches. The first three pages were ideas for tags around the city. He actually cringed at one.
Then a page of Shikiâa quick sketch, half likely from stolen glances and half from memory, because it was her as herself on the left, and as Eri on the right.
Ideas for Beatâs skateboards.
Architecture sketches
An entire six pages of circles and cubes, shaded with hatching or a blending stump.
Neku turned to the next page.
In handwriting that wasnât his, scrawled in large block printâŚ
TURN AROUND, DEAR.
Xxx
Neku screamed. It wasnât one of fear, but frustration. âYou slimy, littleââ he shrieked, as he spun around in the stool expecting to see a smarmy, fifteen-year-old-looking blonde, if the agelessness of the other UG residents was anything to go by.
Instead, a softly frowning man in his mid-thirties stood behind him.
With blonde fly-away hair.
And strange purple eyes.
And a blue-purple button down with white accents and charcoal slacks.
Neku bit his lower lip, holding back a fury he hadnât had in years.
âYou.â
âI come in peace,â Joshua offered, hands up defensively, glowing slightly. âI wrote that years ago. Now I kind of regret it.â Neku relaxed a little. Joshua would be dramatic enough to do that and scare him when he entered the shop, wouldnât he?
âOnly kind of, though,â Joshua added, pulling a broken chair from the rubble, fixing it with a shake and sitting down beside Neku. âItâs still Imprinted. Iâm not in the RG. The note left a bit of me in it. You see it, you see me, too.â
âYou been tailing me all day, too?â
âI felt you in the city, but no. Only when I got a text about it.â
Kariya. Of course.
âYour conductor rat me out?â
âHe did say you were looking for me. So, might have imprinted on you a bit to push you here.â
âYou could have come andââ
ââsaid hello? No, actually, I canât. Iâm on probation. Canât enter the RG for a decade. Not the biggest deal for me, mind, but⌠humans donât live near as long as things like I do. I needed you to come to me. Glad that thing still works.â He tapped the notebook, his hand clipping through a page or two like he wasnât all there.
Neku exhaled. âI trust you, you know. Still donât forgive you, but I do trust you.â
âI know. I appreciate you said it aloud, but I know.â
âYou look better when your clothes actually fit.â
âIs that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?â
âYes.â
âYouâve gotten better at keeping up with me,â Joshua said with a bit of a grin.
âYouâve slowed down in your age, you old fart.â
âOld? Fart?â Joshua pouted, and where there had been a well-put-together adult sat a petulant teenager in the same attire, now oversized to the point of baggy. He looked as the Reapers didâunaged.
âAt least now you fit in with the rest of your underlings,â Neku huffed.
Joshua frowned. âI wish I did, honestly.â Quietly, he stared off, past Neku to the empty kitchen.
âMiss him too?â
âMore than you,â Joshua shot back.
âDidnât have many friends?â
âComes with the job.â
Neku rolled a pencil between his fingers. Heâd caught the proverbial tail and didnât know what to do with it. Joshua was here and clearly knew just as much as Neku did about his former idolâs whereabouts. They sat in silence as Joshuaâs likely million-yen watch ticked away.
âWell?â
âWell what?â Neku replied flatly.
âYouâre no fun, Neku,â Joshua needled. âFine. Look, Sanae liked you, more than just the fact that you were my Proxy. Hell, Iâm surprised he helped you at all, knowing what you represented in my Game. You were the bad guy.â
Joshua slunk in the only-until-recently broken bar seat, kicking at a shattered tile with an awfully expensive sneaker. When he couldnât quite reach, his form shifted back to that of an adult, flinging the chipped tile aside like a petulant child. âNeku, I need you.â
âLike you needed me to destroy Shibuya.â
Joshua exhaled, wisps of golden hair fluttering as he stared at anything but Neku. âIâve been trying to find Hanekoma for years. Every moment Iâm not here keeping the city together, Iâm traveling to find him. You wouldnât understand, but I need you to get a lock on him.â
âYouâre dimension hopping.â
Joshua sat straight up, his too-long legs hitting the cafĂŠ bar as he did so. âFuck,â he hissed, rubbing at his knee. âToo tall for my own good. But how? How could you even know that?â
Neku pointed to the safe at the back corner of the cafĂŠ, still just as ajar as he left it when he found the key pin with Beat back in the game. âMr. H. left me a book of notes: on the game, on angels, all of it.â Neku scrolled through his phone. âI used to keep it on me, thinking it would help me somehow, someday. Eventually, I just scanned it all.â
âGimme,â Joshua demanded, and the phone was in his hands. Neku watched in awe at the Composerâs speed reading. âI know he kept notes for the Angels, but this wasnât for themâit was for you. Whereâs the real deal?â
âMy apartment.â
âAddress. Specific location. Iâm talking âfourth floor, third bedroom, under the red futon next to my stack of- ââ
Neku cut him off quickly, rattling off his exact address and where he hid the book. Joshua held out a free hand, and in a moment, it materialized with the softest of thunks, pages fluttering in Joshuaâs fingertips. âBe glad Iâm on good terms with the Composer of Taito Ward,â Joshua admonished, pointing with the small hand-bound journal. âOtherwise I would have sent you home to go get it yourself.â
âWhat, are you going to track down Hanekoma with this?â
âNo, of course not,â Joshua snorted, standing upright, shaking himself once to completely dissipate any plaster shavings or broken chips from his clothing.
âYou are.â
Xxx
Neku watched in awe as Joshuaâs back bloomed with light, a pair of massive swan-like silver-white wings settling on his back, iridescent with hints of lavender as he shook them loose. Before Neku could think, Hanekomaâs journal was thrust into his hands, and Joshua had him in a position heâd later call The Little Spoon of Death. With a jerk backwards, the two fell through and landed precisely where theyâd been before, except the shop was in clean, working order, jazz playing on the radio, and a familiar voice humming tunelessly along with the guitar.
âHeya, Josh. Back so soon?â
Neku blinked and almost cried when he saw the man behind the counter. âH-Hanekoma?!? Mr. H?â
âOne of,â Hanekoma said with a shrug. âNot the one youâre looking for though.â
Neku tried to surge forward to give the man (angel?) a hug but was held firmly in place by Joshuaâs murderous grip around his waist. âLet go,â Neku whined through gritted teeth.
âNot a good idea, Boss,â Hanekoma chided. âYou donât want to get stuck in the wrong place.â
Neku let himself slacken. âI can get stuck?â
âSure as the rain ruining my day,â Hanekoma agreed. âWhen youâre in the right place, youâll know.â
âCan you help?â
âCan I? Sure. Will I? No. Heâs a hellion. Youâre never going to find him anyway.â
âIsnât he another you?â
âYou wouldnât say the same thing if you met you from this world,â Joshua said, exasperated. âI wonder why the book sent us here.â
âThis is where you hid after Minamimoto tried to erase you, isnât it?â Neku asked. He flipped through the journal. âHe hid somewhere high to wait for you. Because he thought this Hanekoma would turn him into the Angel Police or something.â
âI did,â Hanekoma said proudly. âCanât have me ruining my good name.â
âFuck off,â Neku spat at the barista. âYouâre not Hanekoma.â
âIâm the part of Hanekoma that actually follows our rules.â
Joshua squeezed Neku tighter. âHold on and keep thinking of that.â
âWhatâwhyyyyyyyyyy?!â Neku screamed as sound escaped him. The whole universe lurched underneath as Joshua resumed pinging around between alternate realities, barely stopping to breathe.
âFocus!â Joshua ordered him through the din of dizzying WildKat cafes, Shibuya skylines, and for a brief moment, possibly the cold depths of space.
âTHERE IS NOTHING TO FOCUS ON YOU DAFT ZOMBIE!â Neku shouted back, feeling his insides out and outsides in before the two bounced off a massive plate of glass and went rolling out to nowhere. Joshua pulled his wings around them, breaking the fall as they bounced a few times to the sounds of shattering glass.
They stilled. Neku could hear his own breathing and feel his heart jumping in his chest. Disquietingly, Joshua had neither breath nor a heartbeat, his torso flat against Nekuâs back without any noticeable sign of life. Neku quietly filed that part under âdisgusting, do not remindâ and wiggled a little to loosen Joshuaâs grip on his midsection.
âHang on,â Joshua hissed out. âEasy does it.â
âThat was easy?â
âYou should see hard,â Joshua said, smirking as he raised an eyebrow. âAnd it might surprise you but⌠I think weâre here.â
Joshua rocked on the shoulders of his wings, pushing them both upright and parting a crack for them to see from.
The world consisted of a single, stained-glass building in a shattered-glass sky. The ground crunched with hardened paint beneath them.
âSomewhere high, following the rules⌠and nothing to focus on. Neku, sometimes, only sometimes, am I reminded of your genius.â
âI am in elbow-to-face range,â Neku reminded him.
âYes, dear, and youâd best stay that way unless you want to swallow glass,â Joshua pointed out. âIâm too concerned about flying through that with a passenger, let alone someone alive, so weâre going to walk in tandem to the entrance and pray thereâs no tricks along the way.â
Neku wanted to argue he wasnât much for prayer but being cocooned in angel wings wasnât doing him any favors in that department.
âWell at least Iâm getting the inspiration I was looking for,â Neku muttered as he marveled through the tiniest of openings in between Joshuaâs feathers. They both shuddered as pellets of colored glass dogged them like rain, Neku grimacing with each step.
âI think that is this worldâs rain,â Joshua said aloud. âWhat? Youâre thinking too loud. Either shut up or Iâll nitpick your thoughts. Last you want to do is swallow glass talking out loud, anyway.â
They walked in silence for what felt like eternity, roughly matching steps so their wing-cocoon tank didnât topple. Peppered by the shards of rain, Neku was slowly getting a better view of the world outside his feathered umbrella.
The tower reminded him of Pork City, though it stretched upwards through molten clouds that burned red hot like liquid glass being worked at a forge. The whole thing was stained glass of infinite colorâgiant, angular panes crossed and reinforced by black, wrought iron-like supports, with sharp points sticking out at odd angles from the structure.Â
âI think so too,â Joshua agreed with Nekuâs wandering thoughts. âThatâs Pork City, all rightâmade from Reaper wings. It looks like a gorgeous prison. A prison all the same, though,â he added, sighing.
Soon enough, the entrance loomed overhead, its maw of black webbing haphazardly stuffed with angular pastel glass. The tinkle of the rain bounced off the overhang as Joshua ever-so-slowly folded his wings behind him.
âI think youâre safe, for now,â he said, with the authoritativeness betraying his true age. âI promise, Iâm not going to let you die hereâyouâre still holding Sanaeâs book.â
âBecause thatâs all you care about,â Neku grumbled, to Joshuaâs pout. âOh, come off. Iâm going to make up for all the teasing you did to me. Now letâs hope thereâs an elevator in there or youâll be flying us up the stairs.â
Xxx
âLights are on; nobodyâs home,â Joshua said, looking around as the two shuffled inside. âOkay, Iâm letting go.â
âYouâre what!â Neku shrieked, breathing heavy as Joshua smirked, unhooking his hands from around Nekuâs waist. âDidnât that other Hanekoma say it was a bad idea?â
âOh, itâs a cataclysmically terrible idea. Youâll be trapped here forever now.â
âJoshuaâIâyouâre pulling my leg, arenât you?â
âI mean, of course. Iâm an ass, but nobodyâs that heartless.â
âYou murdered me. Twice.â
âI also brought you back to life, so no complaints,â Joshua snipped back. âNow, what have we here?â
Neku sighed, reminded of exactly how aggravating the little god could be. He looked around the entry foyer. The walls inside the building were a blinding white, almost piercing in their contrast to the stained glass on the outer walls of the monstrous tower. âI think this thing is alive,â Neku muttered.
âItâs not,â Joshua said, almost too quickly. âOr, rather, itâs as alive as Sanae or I am.â
âSo itâs, what, an angel?â
Joshua kneeled down to touch the floor, a soft white abalone with a pearlescent sheen. âYes. And we just entered the mouth.â Neku shuddered. âOh, itâs not really that big a deal, Neku,â Joshua said, standing up and tsk-ing him with a finger. âThis building is no more going to digest you than a wooden one; though Iâm sure youâve seen trees grow around and consume cars and houses.â
âNot helping,â Neku grumbled. âHey, Iâm not sure if itâs the retina damage, but are the walls bleeding paint?â
Joshua tucked his massive wings up high on his back, where they still trailed behind him like a couture dress, and shimmy-hopped over to the interior wall. âOh, itâs probably retina damage,â he said cheerily, âyouâre looking at pure light after all. But youâre not wrong.â Joshua swiped his hand along the wall, coming off it with a smear of mustard yellow acrylic paint. He blew on it, drying it immediately, and peeled it off like a face mask. âMust be the elevator hidden in the wall and⌠here we go.â
With a squelching sound like wrenching a tooth out of its socketâNeku wondering with a shudder that if that actually was a toothâJoshua dislodged the panel, revealing a plush, red-velvet-lined elevator speckled with flecks of paint.
âIf thatâs a tongue, Iâm out of here,â Neku complained.
âItâs not a tongue,â Josh said with a suspicious grin, stuffing himself inside with his wings still exposed. Neku shuffled and squeezed in, a massive feather poking him in the backside. The doors closed. âItâs the esophagus, Neku.â
Xxx
âCanât you put those away?â Neku asked, after what felt like an eternity of being smothered by a giant chicken.
Joshua sighed, looking more serious than Neku was ever used to. âYes, but I wonât.â
Neku expected him to elaborate, but Joshua merely went silent, hands out and open and feathers fluffed up.
Quickly, Neku understood why. It started quietly, a ping and a plop and a hiss, and became louder and more intense with each passing second. A few moments later, Neku was positive he wasnât hearing things; it sounded like rain pouring from a gutter except⌠the rain was a stream of fire-engine red and the gutter was the walls of the elevator. The liquid pooled in the velvet flooring like blood matting the fur on a wounded, furry animal.
âNeku, move in before I make you.â
He didnât need to be told twice as Joshua threw his wings up around them again, reaching a hand out of the fluffy shield to pull the emergency stop on the elevator panel. Neku didnât even realize how fast theyâd been ascending until they screeched to a halt.
âThe walls are bleeding.â
âPaint,â Joshua replied. âItâs just paint.â
âYou also said the building was an angel,â Neku reminded him testily. âWhatâs to say that this isnâtââ
âAngel blood melts like acid,â Joshua replied flatly. Neku didnât know if he were telling the truth or not, but the soles of his shoes, now caked in it, werenât dissolving.
Joshua pulled him close, wrapping his left arm around his shoulders and left wing over that like a shield. Neku couldnât see anything but white, but he felt a jolt of exertion and heard Joshua swear low.
âNeku, dear, stay close and donât scream.â
In the time it took him to blink, the Joshua that Neku was familiar with vanished. Every pore of the elevator was leaking paint in gushes now; thankfully blues and greens and hot pinks, to put Neku slightly more at ease, balanced evenly with the remainder of the free space taken up by living, swirling paint.
Noise.
One giant one.
It was silent and snake-like, and it dug its claws into the elevator door, wrenching it open without a sound save the rushing air.
The elevator had stopped between two floors, and the Noise slipped out the bottom to slide down to the floor below.
Move, it demanded of him. Drowning in paint doesnât belong in your obituary.
Neku more or less knew the beast had been Joshua, but the voice in his head finally cemented it.
âIâll break my legs.â
âIâll catch you.â
Neku didnât even register the response said aloud, slipping down the paint-soaked velvet and landing in a nest of color-streaked feathers.
âSee?â
âIâm drenched,â Neku grumped, and then realized he wasnât. His and Joshuaâs clothes were pristine again, though the wild streaks of paint still covered Nekuâs arms and Joshuaâs feathers.
âNot getting rid of it all. I donât know if the building is trying to attack us and Iâd rather we still smell like it.â
âYou think?â Neku asked sarcastically. He looked around the room. Paint had pooled in oil-slick puddles on the floor and was leaking out cracks in the walls. Neku heard dripping from overhead, looking up to see globs of color slowly plopping from the ceiling. The acrylic paintâs own drying-to-plastic properties were likely the only thing preventing a flood of multicolored rain on them.
Carefully, Neku hot-footed around the deepest puddles and made his way to the stained glass on the perimeter.
âWe are really high up,â he breathed out, looking at the world below.
Joshua fluttered, and landed gracefully next to him. âWe are. Care not to break the glass.â
âIâm not thatââ
ââwithout me,â Joshua continued, barreling for the window, grabbing Neku as he shattered an entire pane.
For a moment, time stood still, not that it mattered much in this place to begin with. The triangular pastel shards exploded out with them on the side of the building and Neku swore he heard it scream. The shards from the broken window floated around them, glittering against the glass rain pelting them from above. Joshua pulled Neku in tighter, wings curled.
âDuck.â That was Nekuâs only warning as Joshua opened his wings to propel them up against the pellets of crystalline rain before hurling himself sideways, crashing into another exterior wall.
âHuman bodies are too frail,â Joshua tskâed at him once they finished rolling in a 20 centimeters deep pool of paint. With a hand wave, Neku found himself as clean as he could be, and free of scratches.
Paint sluiced down from their entry hole, likely streaking the outside of the building as the room began to drain. Neku shook the stars from his eyes as Joshua flicked his fingers across his button-down shirt, sending the liquid colors away as he did so.
His wings were still streaked with neon.
The room had no stairs, no elevator shaft, from what Neku could see. It was just glass around the outside and a concrete floor and ceiling. Scattered about the room were pillars and flat concrete pieces, some wall-to-ceiling, but most about half heightâlike an art gallery.
The entire room, save the glass, was completely covered in art.
Graffiti.
Classical.
Renaissance.
Ukiyo-e
Cubist.
It was one step short of being an eyesore. And as the paint drained out, pouring down the exterior side of the building, Neku could see the floor, too, covered with incredible works of art. He felt almost embarrassed when he moved his foot, leaving behind a hot-pink footprint on impressionist lilies.
âTheyâre just copies,â Joshua said sternly, looking around. âTechnically precise, but nothing original except in how itâs all mashed together.â
Neku nodded. âI just stepped in Monet.â
âWell, a good copy. Poor Sanae. Stay on your guard, Neku; heâs up here somewhere. And heâs probably not going to look like what youâre used to.â
âLike how you were a dragon?â Neku asked.
âHis street art handle isnât CAT for nothing.â
âIâm assuming itâs not a housecat, then,â Neku hissed back, suddenly concerned. Both of them winced on hearing a howl.
Quiet, Joshua ordered inside his head. And stay behind me.
Neku nodded and the two wove their way through the gallery, following the sound of growls and irritated hisses. Joshua slowly peeled around a corner, motioning for Neku to follow.
A great graffiti-winged panther that Neku could only assume was Mr. Hanekoma glared back through acid-paint eyes.
Xxx
Joshua shoved Neku roughly aside, striding confidently to the massive graffiti beast.
âHello, old friend,â Joshua said, tired and aged himself.
The creature screamed. The concrete half-wall Neku had been cowering behind exploded into fragments of color and shrapnel.
The beast froze, sniffed. It took one step, then another, leaning its gargantuan head over the broken divider to look down at Neku.
Neku had never been terrified before. Even in the Game, heâd had periods when he was scared, adrenaline coursing through him like the drug it was. But this abject fear to witness a man he trustedâwho he might even consider a friendâbe reduced to a mindless abomination drooling tempera paint overhead was sobering.
The beast opened its maw wide. Joshua jumped to his side in a flash, throwing up a wing to protect him.
Hanekoma tilted his head a little, reminiscent of a puppy. âNeâŚ.ku?â
Xxx
Neku and Joshua watched over the nextâŚhowever long it took. Hanekoma paced, occasionally knocking over a bucket of paint or, in one case, slamming into one of the concrete half-wall dividers with his flank as his graffiti form jittered and convulsed.
Heâs coming back around, Joshua hissed in Nekuâs head. At this point, we just need to wait.
Neku nodded. Joshua still held a wing up and an iron grip on the otherâs arm and waist, but it was with good reason. Hanekoma screamed again, rupturing the concrete and Nekuâs eardrums. For a few moments, Neku saw nothing but static, before the searing pain faded.
ââSanae, Sanae, come back to us,â Joshua pleaded in croaking whispers as Nekuâs hearing returned. âPlease. Your attacks are only hurting him, see? I just had to completely repair his eardrums.â
The cat-beast howled again, knocking Neku utterly unconscious this time.
Xxx
Neku came to on the floor of the gallery, slowly taking stock of the room around him through hazy peripheral vision. Most of the dividers were at least punched through, if not entirely destroyed. A cold hand covered most of his forward vision, however.
âNeku, can you hear me?â Hanekomaâs gruff voice was twanged with concern.
âHe should; I fixed his eardrums twice in one eternity,â Joshua grumped.
âMisterâŚ.H?â Neku croaked.
âJ, make him some water.â
Slowly, a sturdy arm pulled Neku to sitting, leaning his body back into something warm, but lacking breath and a pulse. It was too broad to be Joshua, confirmed when the other hand slipped away to take an offered bowl of water.
Hanekoma was in human form again. Human-ish, at least.
âDrink, kiddo.â
âIâm twenty,â Neku protested before coughing up a little blood, realizing that was the first full sentence out of his mouth to the former barista.
âHey, all humans are kids to me,â Hanekoma laughed. âJ, he needs his throat patched up too.â
âYeah, yeah,â Joshua whined, leaning forward to place three fingers against Nekuâs neck. Immediately, Neku felt a wave of calm wash over, and his throat felt clear. âNow drink, before I whip you up an IV. I can patch you up, but Iâm not magically refilling you with lost fluids. I donât have the brainspace right now for that.â
Neku slowly downed the water, leaning heavily into Hanekoma. âI donât have the brainspace to brain for at least a week.â
âI donât think any of us do,â Hanekoma added. âIâm not even sure how Iâm back to any kind of sanity as it is.â
Joshua rolled his eyes and refilled the water bowl with a gesture. âEnough of you was sane enough to be worried.â
âYou brought a living human as bait, J! Of course I was worried.â
âIt worked.â
âThat doesnât make itââ Hanekoma hissed, squeezing Nekuâs shoulders a little too hard.
âI missed you,â Neku cut in. âIt looked like all of Shibuya did, even though they never knew who you were.â
âOf course they knew,â Hanekoma said gently. âI was the local barista, ready with a good cup âo joe. I was the artist that painted the town red.â
âAll the Reapers I spoke to had nothing but praise for you,â Neku continued. âI ran all over the city today finding that out.â
Neku felt the single loud thump of a heartbeat from the ethereal body keeping him upright. âReally now?â
âNone of them knew you had a connection to the game either,â Neku continued, getting a second wind. âThey just praised CATâs art and WildKatâs coffee.â
âHmph.â
âWonât you come back, Sanae?â Joshua asked, a pleading smile on his lips. âItâs been too long.â
âI wish I could, J.â
âWhat do you mean you wish? Youâre an Angel, for Someoneâs sake!â
âEr, about that,â Hanekoma said, scratching the back of his head. âIâm⌠well. Iâm not not an angel, I guess. But this is my punishment.â
âYouâre definitely under supervision,â Joshua said testily. âYour warden was more annoying than anything else.â
âI take offense to that,â Hanekomaâs voice reverberated through all three of them.
Joshua nearly growled. âYou know, you could have skipped the theatrics. If you wanted us gone, you could have Erased us, or just booted us out.â
Neku blinked the last of the daze away. âHold on. Iâm missing something here.â
âRemember how we passed a million billion WildKats and Sanaes and Shibuyas trying to find this place?â Joshua grumbled. âAnd how Sanae knew what we were doing? Angels have a singular hive mind. Mostly. Iâm not actually an Angel, mind youâsort of just a hatchling, an infant. But heâs a real-deal Higher Plane beastie.â
Neku frowned, putting up a finger, lost in thought. Hanekoma went to speak, only for Joshua to shush him.
âNekuâs smart enough to put the pieces together. Give him a moment.â
âI gave him at least a concussion, if not brain damage, J.â
âWhich I fixed.â
âThe building.â Nekuâs face sharpened into a frown.
Joshua and Hanekoma turned their heads to Neku, now sitting upright unassisted as he bopped his finger to his own internal music, slotting what he knew in place. âYou said the building was an angel. This building, this whole thing, is this dimensionâs Mr. H. All of the other yous are mad at you, arenât they?â
Hanekoma nodded, exhaling a sigh. âIâm⌠sort of still an angel. But they cut me off from the Hive and took my inspiration. I canât leave until I have them back.â
âIâm going to have a word with Management.â Joshua hoisted himself off the shrapnel-pocked floor, stomping a foot. âElevator, if you please.â
âJ, youâre crazy.â
âAware. So?â
The three heard a ding as a concrete cube rose from the floor, the elevator with it. It opened with a smooth motion, the door already fixed but the interior still caked in paint.
âAm I the hostage negotiator, or can all of us go?â Joshua asked the elevator, irritated, arms crossed and wing-feathers fluffed in annoyance. In response, the elevator ballooned sideways, expanding the interior to accommodate three adults and one massive pair of wings.
âAll right,â Joshua sighed out. âEverybody in.â
Xxx
The elevator hummed pleasantly and dinged, opening back up to the pearly-white entryway. The large front doorsâtriangular shards of crisscrossing stained glassâwere blocked off by an aggressive black chain and padlock. A gleaming solid front desk sat at the entryway with a bored Hanekoma flipping lazily through a completely blank magazine. He shot them a grin; Neku noticed he was missing a tooth.
âAh, hello. Thanks for giving me one heck of a sore throat, J.â
âCan it. Iâm busting him out,â Joshua snapped, straight to the point.
Hanekoma put down the magazine, all high-gloss and solid-white pages. âOh? How?â
Joshua pointed at the door, the chain and lock melting like acid under his gaze. âThe front door, how else? Unless you want a few more teeth popped out.â
âThat isnât what I meant, J,â Hanekoma-behind-the-counter said simply. âYour me isnât an angel right now. You take him out of here and heâs a mortal. I give him a few decades, tops. Stay and heâll pay his price eventually; wonât you, you sorry excuse for a me?â
Joshuaâs Sanae wrung his hands. âIâll head back up. I did say you didnât need to come for me, J.â
âIf you leave before your sentence is up⌠youâre mortal?â Joshua asked, his voice cracking a little.
âYeah, sorry Boss. Iâll take the long way âround.â
Neku frowned, scratching at some dried paint on his cheek. âHang on. What is his sentence exactly? Josh, you said yours was being banned from the RG, but nothing stopped you from letting me see the UG.â
Joshua broke out into a nasty grin. âOhhhhhhhh Neku, dear. I need to have you get brain damage more often.â
âNo,â Neku interjected flatly.
âAw, it was only a temporary inconvenience. Anyway, Sanaeâeither of youâwhat is his exact punishment from the Higher Plane? I want the full contract.â
The glass worldâs Sanae slid him the blank magazine. âThey were pretty thorough.â
Xxx
When Neku turned his back on the front desk, a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table, all in different shades of blinding alabaster, existed under the overhang just to the side of the entryway. The tinkle of stained-glass-shard rain peppered the overhang roof and a rainbow of garish light streaked in between the storm clouds outside. Joshua lifted his wings, draped them over the back of the sofa, and got to reading.
The only sounds were the tinkling of the rain, Joshuaâs ever-ticking watch, and the occasional turn of a page.
Neku tapped his fingers on his jeans. âCan I do anything?â
âNo,â muttered Joshua, half in thought flipping through the plain pages.
âHavenât you done enough?â asked the bored warden, slouching at his desk.
âI could⌠clean the elevator,â Neku offered, trying to figure out something to do. He was definitely caught in some sort of celestial war, played out in miniature. Everything was over his head right now as he looked sideways to the glass-world Hanekoma. He looked the same as all the othersârolled-up button down, slacks, waistcoat, watch, sandals, sunglasses, messy hairâthough he did seem a bit more⌠shiny, like light was reflecting off of him. Neku didnât want to consider what it meant for him to both be standing at the front counter as well as being the entire building.
âYouâd do that?â the glass angel questioned, confused.
âWhy wouldnât I? Iâm just standing here. And itâs partially my fault that happened. More so if itâs hurting you.â
âAngels arenât people, Neku,â he replied, handing him a bucket of soapy water from nowhere. âWe donât feel pain.â
âYouâre clearly in pain,â Neku shot back in a whisper after Joshua rustled the magazine loudly, clearing his throat in a way reminding Neku to not disturb him. âLet me help.â
âHelp, huh?â The glass Hanekoma smiled, the missing tooth returning to its space after a moment of static. âThatâs a new thought.â
âNobodyâs ever helped you before?â Neku asked, concerned, as the elevator dinged and opened. He walked to it, both Sanaes following. One handed the other another bucket, then made one for himself. The three went inside and Neku took to the floor, carefully washing down the carpeting. The door slid closed and the three worked in silence.
âNot me, no,â the glass one admitted. âNot most of us. Angels donât interact with your kind, or they really arenât supposed to. I think some of us are jealous of the us from your world.â Another beat of silence. âI know I am.â
âThen why donât you leave?â Neku asked.
âThe other mes would make me a traitor, same as that one.â He jabbed his thumb at his duplicate. âIn all honesty, I think itâs better than wasting away with only our own thoughts for company. All of us know it tooâonly that one said the quiet part out loud. Thereâs a small and finite number of angels, but an infinite number of each of us. One broken hive is a massive blow to the higher planeâkind of contradictory when you realize we run on Imagination. Think about it for five seconds andââ
âIt doesnât make sense,â Neku cut in, satisfied with the state of the floor, moving on to an aggressive teal spot on the wall. âIf you run on Imagination but youâre made up as a ton of fragments that all have to think alike, any dissent and your own self turns on you. Seems a bit counterintuitive to have it that way.â
âThe only possible outcome is to break apart from within,â Hanekoma agreed, but Neku wasnât sure which one of them said it. Inside the elevator, the glass one didnât have the odd shine heâd had in the foyer. At this point, he wasnât sure it mattered.
Xxx
Neku and both Hanekoma exited the elevator, Joshua still pouring over the magazine. âThey really did try and close every possible loophole,â he muttered. âI canât see a way out⌠shy of killing you,â he added, looking up at the two angels. âAnd now I canât even tell you apart.â
One of them smiled. âNeku just opened one up for you.â
âOh?â
âClause 16b.2.â
âYes, âshould the warden be unfit for service, Hanekoma is to serve the remainder of the sentence under a new warden.â I was going to kill you and claim myself warden.â
âThereâs no way the Higher Power would allow that. Heâd just be transferred,â the other one said. Joshua raised an eyebrow to the first oneâhis Hanekoma. He slid his eyes between the two of them and the glass one scratched the back of his neck.
âSit. Iâll get us something to drink.â
Neku shrugged and practically threw himself into one of the chairs, sighing as he sank into it. It was soft and warm and the light pinging of the rain overhead was lulling him to sleep.
âStay awake,â Hanekoma ordered, pinching his elbow. âYou started going see-through when you passed out last timeâitâs what jolted me to consciousness. You arenât coming all this way just for me to see you fade to nothing, Neku.â
Neku jolted upright, just as a steaming cup of coffee was placed in his hands. âIâll make sure that doesnât happen,â the glass Hanekoma said, determined. A third settee appeared between the other two; their captor-slash-host sat in it, placing a tray of coffee, tea, and snacks on the table between them. âAnd anyway, Iâm unfit to be Hanekomaâs warden now. The Higher Plane may come for me soon. Though, soon here could be eons off. I know my time doesnât run at the same pace as most of the other dimensions; thatâs why I was picked to watch him. Joshua, they would never accept you under probation, but⌠Nekuâyou seem to be a favorite of upper management. Transferring to you shouldnât be a problem. Hand him the contract, J.â
Neku blinked a bit of the daze from his eyes, downing the beverage. It felt like more than mere coffee, a solid glass of liquid courage, emboldening him.
Joshua hesitated, but passed the blank, glossy magazine sideways to Neku. He then stared down at the tray of offered snacks and carefully picked out a chessboard cookie, frowning at it, before biting the head off the knightâs horse.
Words swirled on the paper in Nekuâs peripheral vision before he could see them straight off. âCan I get a translation?â he asked meekly, looking at the mess of block print before him.
âDid I not write it in Japanese?â Glass-Hanekoma asked.
âThatâs not what I meant,â Neku sulked. âI canât read lawyer.â
Joshua craned his neck sideways. âItâs a transferal of ownership contract. Standard language, except⌠hm. Neku, would you want to be an angel?â
Neku scrunched up his face. âSeeing what you deal with? No. I have enough trouble with artistâs block as it is. Iâd rather it not be fatal.â
âTake out paragraphs eight and twenty, then.â
âWait, this would haveâŚâ
âMade you one of us, yeah,â Joshua cut Neku off. âIt does mean that if Hanekoma didnât finish his sentence before you died, he would be mortal; so some sort of transferal clause needs to be added.â
Hanekoma snatched up the magazine, flicking it. âConsider it done. Sign and get out of here before Iâm taken away too.â He grinned slyly. âMaybe I can keep the domino chain going. Wouldnât the upper management just love that?â
Neku flicked his eyes to Joshua. âI still trust you, Josh. Howâs it look?â
âWe can take him with us. Youâre his warden âtil you die or his sentence is done, then you can renegotiate angelhood if you want.â
âBut⌠what is his sentence?â Neku asked, looking between the now indistinguishable Hanekoma.
âI have to re-earn my Imagination: the human way.â
âNo magic?â
âSome magic. About as much as Josh has. Which is a lot compared to you. Very little compared to before. And none at all when Iâm not near my warden⌠though Iâm not sure how near near is.â
âDonât worry about that,â the second Hanekoma said, squeezing the firstâs shoulder. âIâve given you a little extra juice on your way. Iâm sure theyâll take mine from me anyway. Itâs enough to manifest your wings again, at least. Now get out of here, before thereâs bigger problems. All of us is already tattling.â
âBunch of assholes,â Hanekoma hissed under his breath.
âWe both were, too. Well, me at least. Think you were always the black sheep. Now, sign and get.â
Joshua plucked a pen from nowhere, handing it to Neku who turned to the angelic twins. âYou trust me?â
âWith your life,â both Hanekoma said with a nod.
Neku signed with a flick of his wrist, the pull of slumber taking him again. He could barely hear Hanekoma and Joshua shout something as they hauled him upright at the torso.
With a jerk that felt like someone had tied a rope around his waist and then yanked on it from behind, Neku blinked his eyes open to Hanekomaâs shop, as destroyed as it was when theyâd left it. He gasped for breath, completely winded and woozy, the world spinning around him until he succumbed, sliding out of Hanekoma and Joshuaâs shared grip to bounce on the cracked tile floor.
Xxx
Hanekoma frowned, flapping feathered wings he forgot heâd missed. âJ, you know you canât throw yourself around the mortalsânot like that. Not even to someone like him.â Carefully, Hanekoma pulled Neku out of the rubble, flinging his body over a shoulder. âBe glad heâs just passed out. If he stayed a moment longer in that dimension, he would have been gone. You could have killed him or worse.â
âBut I didnât,â Joshua insisted. âI needed him.â
âDid he know the risks?â Hanekoma asked roughly, finally free to yell at his former boss-and-ward without Neku overhearing. âHe didnât. You never told him.â
âYou said in your notes that Iâd be a strain on him. He had to know what that meant.â
âThereâs a difference in knowing what your toned-down presence would do over a week versus what the full force of your power would do to him in a few hours,â Hanekoma chided. âHe may have known the former, but you certainly didnât tell him the latter.â
âWhatâs your point?â Joshua asked, watching Hanekoma shift Nekuâs unconscious form into a more comfortable carry.
âMy point is, stop breaking things, J. Stop treating everything like a broken bone thatâs healing the wrong way. Not everything has to be shattered even more to fix it.â
âYou were imprisoned by the Angels! All for trying to protect this city!â Joshua protested.
âI would have finished my sentence eventually,â Sanae countered in a calm and even tone. âI may have been in that place for eons, but it wasâwhat? Three years here, maybe?â
âFive,â Joshua whimpered with a pout.
Hanekomaâs eyes flicked up and down Joshua, seemingly searching for something. âIâm putting Neku down in a room and warding it. He needs to recoup.â
Hanekoma turned on his heel to the shop backrooms, leaving Joshua standing confused in the mound of rubble.
Xxx
Whatever Hanekoma was doing, he was taking his sweet time. But Joshua heeded the baristaâs words and waited, rolling his shoulders and slowly ratcheting his own wings back into the ether. Bored, he made himself a broom from Imagination and began idly sweeping up the chipped plaster and shattered tile. Eventually, Hanekoma returned to the shop portion of the building, eyeing Joshua.
âPhysical labor? Thatâs a first.â
âI⌠I feel,â Joshua said, stopping to roll the broom handle in his fingertips. âI feel responsible.â
Hanekoma lowered his shades, peering over them. âResponsible. Who are you and what have you done with J?â
âI grew up, Sanae. Someone had to. You werenât here. I have a new Conductor and Producer now.â
âWhat, so Iâm outta a job?â
âIâm not kicking you out,â Joshua said, almost pleading. âYou just donât have any obligations. Other than your sentence, I guess.â
âWith Neku as my warden,â Hanekoma sighed out. âYou didnât need to plan a jailbreak, J. Youâve waited longer than five years for things before. Itâs hardly an eye-blink to people like us.â
Joshua slunk to the floor, defeated and boneless as he slid down the broom handle. A small cloud of debris puffed up around him as he went.
âDrama queen,â Hanekoma tskâed as he joined his former colleague on the floor, nesting his wings around himself. âI canât say this isnât nice though. Missed ya, J. Being honest, I donât remember much at all from that place, anyway. Couldâve been a long time there before I became myself again without your little stunt.â
Joshua didnât answer.
They sat in silence a few moments, then Hanekoma choked back a cry as his coworkerâhis friendâgrabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around him just under his wings. Hanekoma flapped them in surprise as Joshua buried his head in the down.
Angel and Reaper wings were their Soul; one didnât just touch themânot without explicit permission. To touch someoneâs wings meant someone else could feel what they did. Feel their joy, their disgust, their pain, or all at once.
Hanekoma didnât pull away. He could hearâjust barely, but it was thereâJoshua sobbing silently into his back. Joshua was, for the first time in his so-called-life, showing Hanekoma a vulnerability he didnât know the other even possessed. Slowly, the barista relaxed both sets of shoulders, taking on more and more of Joshuaâs weight until his Composer was literally leaning on him as much as metaphorically.
Seconds ticked away from Joshuaâs Pegasso crystal-quartz watch, which turned to minutes, then a solid half hour. Slowly, Hanekoma felt the weight lift.
âYou let me,â Joshua said, a bit hoarse, patting the down where wing phased through clothes.
âYou needed it, J. Pain shared is pain halved. I was happy to listen.â
âYou didnât want to be saved,â Joshua said sharply. âForgive me for feeling like you were ungrateful. But⌠you werenât. You were protecting me from the angels and a sentence like yours. You were a fall guy.â
âYes,â Hanekoma said slowly. âI didnât want you to suffer, too. Not being visible to the RG is hardly a penalty compared to what I have.â
âPain shared is pain halved,â Joshua threw back at him, wiping snot off his face. If heâd been in his teenage form, he would have looked like just another kid. But Joshua was an ugly crier, and as an adult, he just looked sillyâmore so with a few errant feathers from Hanekomaâs back stuck to his dripping snot and hair.
âWash upâthe backroom sink works,â Hanekoma insisted, flapping his wings a few times to get rid of any other loose feathers. âI need to do some tidying, anyway.â
Joshua reverently ran his fingers through the shoulder of Hanekomaâs left wing. âClean the shop all you want; you know all about me and dirt. But leave this part to me.â
Xxx
âI kinda expected more, Sanae.â Joshua leaned in the doorframe, pristine as her always presented himself to the public.
âIâm not exactly going to waste my magic, Boss.â Hanekoma went back to wiping down the countertops with a wet rag. The only change Joshua could see was all the broken furniture piled in a corner, with the floor debris in an equally uncoordinated pile.
âThe human way?â Joshua asked with a smirk.
âIf Iâm not your Producer, I need a little art project to keep me busy.â
âWouldnât really call fixing a coffee shop art,â Joshua scoffed.
âItâs not not art, though,â Hanekoma countered, flinging the wet rag on a shoulder and smiling at the dented, but still functional, kettle on the burner, whistling away. âTea?â
âMm,â Joshua hummed with a nod. âAlso, Nekuâs phone was ringing nonstop.â He pulled his own from a pocket. âOh. Itâs past ten PM. Someoneâs probably been wondering what happened to him. Least itâs still the same day we left.â Joshua cracked a small smile. âGone for a week and the mortals think youâre dead or something.â
Hanekoma threw the rag square in Joshuaâs face, storming past him to go retrieve the offending cell phone.
Xxx
Hanekoma sat on one of the two useable stools, Joshua behind him on the other, sipping tea from one hand while using the other to pull out stuck feathers. The barista unlocked Nekuâs phone, scrolling through twenty missed calls. âShiki. Thatâs a name I havenât heard in a while.â
âYou planning to call?â
âI should. Nekuâs probably going to need a day or more to recuperate. And then youâre going to call his mother and let her know heâs sick with a fever.â
âCanât. RG people canât perceive me for another few years, remember? Phone calls included.â He grinned toothily. âYouâll just have to clean up the mess for me.â
Hanekoma sighed, stretching out his wings a little so Joshua could pull out all the powder down stuck from his eons of not taking care of himself, and pressed a familiar name in the missed calls history. âHello? Shiki?â
âOh my god, is this the police? Whereâs Neku?â
âShiki,â Hanekoma smiled a little, glad for a familiar voice. âItâs⌠Hanekoma Sanaeâthe cafĂŠ shop owner on Cat Street.â
Hanekoma waited patiently as Shiki processed what that meant. âIf Neku is dead, Iâm wringing a long line of necks. Joshuaâs first; something tells me this is his fault.â
Joshua laughed hard enough to slam forward into the angelâs back; Sanae shot him a glare. âNeku is alive, but heâs taken a massive hit of Imagination. Heâs probably going to sleep a day or two.â
âBut heâs alive.â
âAlive and in no pain, with no injury. Mortals just canât handle being around a city Composer too long.â Hanekoma glared over his shoulder at a snickering young-looking man in a lilac button down.
âIâm coming over there,â Shiki insisted. âAnd Joshua better be ready to take a knee to the balls.â
âUnfortunately, you wonât be able to see or hear him, but hang on,â Hanekoma said, pushing back on the deadweight behind him with his wings. âIâm putting you on speaker. Feel free to yell at himâI already have.â
Hanekoma clicked to speakerphone, maximizing the volume and holding the phone out behind him.
âGo ahead, Shiki. He can hear you.â
Shiki took in a deep breath, expelling a gasp of colorfully laced expletives so pointed Joshuaâs hair began to catch fire. The moment she was out of breath, she slammed the end-call button with enough force that Joshuaâs wings twitched, even within their aether.
âJosh, youâd better be out of my shop before she gets here or youâre going to be in deep shit.â
âI didnât realize someone who played the Game before could deal that much splash damage,â Joshua complained, patting out the embers on the edges of his loose curls.
âYou were human once yourself, J. Now bolt before she sets all of you on fire.â
âGood night to you too,â Joshua grumped, crossing his arms as he slid off the seat, leaving Hanekomaâs wings in a worse looking state than when heâd started. He saluted awkwardly to the sighing barista, disappearing out into the night.
Xxx
âHow are you holding up, kiddo?â
Neku rubbed the crust out of his eyes. âWhat year is it?â
âSame one you were in before this mess.â Hanekoma smiled. âYou slept away three days, though. I impersonated you on the phone to your mom and collegeâhope thatâs alright.â
âSo itâsâŚâ
âMonday night. Six PM. Joshâs going to stay away from you for a while.â
âThat why I feel like shit?â
âMhmm. You want me to bring you in some food?â
âBathroom,â Neku complained.
âThink mine still works.â
âYou think?â
âNeku, Iâm not human. Iâve never needed it.â
Xxx
âSo now what?â Neku bit into his burger; nothing Hanekoma made, but then again, his kitchen was mostly still in shambles.
âI guess I rebuild. Maybe I take some art classes at community college.â
âThen Iâm helping.â
âNo, youâre-â
Neku glared up from his dinner. âThatâs not up for debate. Iâm your prison warden, remember? I help and in return, you let me paint in here.â
Hanekoma laughed. âYou donât even need to ask permission for that.â
âOh, so I can tag every wall, floor, and ceiling in this bombed out husk of a deserted island?â
The barista frowned, leaning forward on the counter. âThat didnât get me any closer to having any inspiration, you know.â
âAnd I think thatâs a lie,â Neku replied, crossing his arms. âJosh didnât see it either. Maybe the individual components were copies, but that space you made in that other place was like nothing Iâd ever seen before. Incredible doesnât even begin to describe it. Nothing we do is truly unique anyway; weâre always working off the backs of those who came before us. Itâs what voice we add to that conversation that makes our art what it is and⌠I should really be following my own advice. Hang on. Iâm making a few calls, and youâre not stopping me.â
Neku pulled out his phone and rolled through his contacts list. âHey, Sho. Iâve got a destroyed cafĂŠ here ripe for a giant-ass chandelier. You in?â
âNeku,â the other end of the line sounded annoyed. âI donât do electrical.â
âSo? You do the sculpture; Iâll get someone else to wire.â
âItâs going to be made of trash.â
âWhy do you think I called your ass? Take notes; hereâs the address.â
Xxx
âI havenât done heavy lifting in⌠forever,â Hanekoma said, wiping actual sweat off his brow. It was a weird feeling, being sort-of human, but he couldnât say he didnât like it. The past six weeks had been a whirlwind with Neku in charge, directing a steady stream of ethereal beingsâ self includedâ into a massive renovation of his shop. The place was an explosion of color and life, an irony in real time to contrast the lack of both on the owner.
âQuit complaining,â Uzuki demanded, hauling the other end of the new bar counter. âIf I can get Kariya to lift your tables in, you can help with your own damn high-top.â
âThe one you danced on,â Hanekoma said with a grin, looking down at the hot purple and neon orange footprints crisscrossing the acrylic-sealed bar counter. The two had tangoed across a plank, then encased it for eternity in enough two-stage resin that it would never fadeâNeku was particularly proud of that collaboration. Uzuki pushed the shop door with her shoulder, so both of them could bring the counter inside.
ââand you donât need to hold that ladder, Neku.â
âI donât want you falling,â Neku snapped back, looking up at the Reaper wiring in the shopâs new light fixture. It looked like a vending machine had exploded on the ceiling, and Hanekoma loved it.
âNeku, I can fly,â Triple Seven replied, waving a pair of wire strippers. He was flapping his wings to show those off as well, not that Neku could see them from the RG.
âMy masterpiece canât,â Sho grumbled from the corner, looking on in a mix of horror and awe as Seven worked his stage rigging magic to get the recycled-bottle chandelier hooked into the buildingâs wiring.
âLook, itâs way easier for me to do this if Iâm not trying to balance,â Seven sighed out. âSho, get up here and hold it in place, so I can finish. Neku, go help do something that doesnât involve a ceiling or frying yourself on open electricals.â
Sho sighed, stood up, and vanished back into the UG, flapping up to hold the sculpture as Seven jumped off the ladder. Neku winced, unable to see either of them.
âIf you can hear me, Iâm going to check on Shiki and her friends making chair cushions.â Sho rattled the ladder with his foot, and Neku smiled. âHey, Mr. H, your shopâs haunted.â
âIâd be more worried if it wasnât.â
Xxx
âSo?â Hanekoma slid a ceramic cup down the acrylic to Neku. âGet your grade back yet?â
âSemester ends in January, Mr. H; itâs gonna be a while yet. How about your magic?â
âWhile this helped, no. Itâll be a while yet for me too. Canât complain about the dĂŠcor, though.â
Hanekoma and Neku grinned, taking in the space. Except for one section of wall painted with chalkboard paint for patrons to go wild doodling on, every square inch of the shop was covered in art altogether dizzying and explosively contrast in design.
âOpens tomorrow, right? My teacher is coming around again to see it.â
âSoft open today though.â
âSign said closed,â Neku pointed out with his teaspoon.
âMaybe for the living.â
âAh, a few reapers pass by?â Neku asked with a smile. âHey, make a bet with you.â
âWhat?â
âHow many days the shopâs open before a paying customer draws a dick on your wall.â
âZero.â
Neku looked sideways as a handful of change bounced across the counter, Sho coming into view. He downed his already half-drunk coffee and loped to the chalkboard to vandalize it. Neku flicked his eyes at the empty tables and chairs, a massive grin breaking out on his face as every single one was filled in with a Reaper, raising glasses in toast.
âWe all needed someplace to stay,â Hanekoma said on the roomâs behalf. âThanks for giving us a home. Itâs still pretty broken and lopsided, but I promise weâll keep the lights on.â
âMr. H, this was already your home.â
He shook his head. âNo, Neku. It was only a shop.â
âIf its home, does that mean the drinks are free?â A few reapers turned to the furthest corner of the roomâJoshua grinned, sitting backwards in his chair.
âJ, what did I say about coming âround when Nekuâs here?â Hanekoma scolded.
ââŚDonât?â
âShort bursts only, lest you want to clean up the exploding brains on the wall.â
Neku shrugged. âItâll probably add to the ambiance.â
I'm stealing you and your body heat for my flight (aggressively snuggles a giant kitty if permissed to do so)
âYeah, go ahead.â Ratchet, who has nothing else to keep busy with while he watches Worst Mechanics in Solana, snuggles right up with you. Warm fuzzies time.
đ´ Ratchet, at the spacemall
âSUSTENANCE PROVID --Â â
âSal, why donât you try something a little more -- upbeat? Like âOrder up!ââ Hunk slides a tray through the window: Javarran fish and groundshoot confit, with a bowl of those wheat-berry like grains he doesnât know the name of yet, and the tangy sauce heâs still trying to come up with a name for. The sight of the ears on the customer who comes to pick it up almost makes him drop his pan.
âHey! Ratchet!â
âŹď¸ with Kaden, when they're at least 50 if not older?
âOver the hill,â Ratchet grumbles, batting another bouquet of funeral-hued balloons out of the way. âDo they even know how old we can get? Iâm not even halfway up the hill!â Although, with this backache, he certainly feels like heâs gone over the hill, lapped it twice, and started climbing back up backwards.
âAnyways, you want the rest of â Dad!â Ratchet calls out when he notices his father isnât in his usual chair. âHey! You want the rest of this cake?â

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
â
âClank, the universe is definitely a better place with you in it. The ways you find to make peopleâs lives better, way above and beyond our usual blow-up-the-bad-guys stuff, are amazing, and youâll always make me want to be a kinder person.â
â(ââżâĘĘâ all the chocolate cake and ice cream he wants and he won't get sick from it
Ratchetâs alarm bells are going off as he takes the first bite of the brownie (itâs not carob itâs not carob itâs not carob!!!) but being that this is a dream he canât stop until heâs chewed and swallowed, and â
â and heâs okay!!!
He takes the whole plate of brownies and settles into the comfy chair on the living room ceiling to watch random colors swirl around on the HV screen. That song he heard yesterday on the radio and liked, but couldnât source, loops quietly in the background, from nowhere. Every time he takes a bite of brownie, fireworks explode outside. It tastes like what a sweet cup of dark roast coffee would taste like in food form. And every time he finishes one, a new one takes its place.
Best. Dream. Ever.
HES MAKING BISCUITS NOW
âOuch. Get some catnip if itâll ease your passing.â






