What's up? Sepetyra here, just about to lay down a fic of one of my favorite games ever. You know, the DS craze, TWEWY? Yeah, thought so. Well, I'll be taking a few liberties with the fictional Shibuya…such as the inclusion of a few OCs (they fit, I swear!) and ignoring a couple of TWEWY's more confusing laws, just so I don't have to constantly go back and make a reference to the game every time I write something about alternate planes of existence. So yeah, this could be weird, but I promise an exciting endeavor…we'll see how far that goes… Now!! Come with me to Shibuya, a year after the main story ensued!!
Bustling busybodies ran rampant through the stylish streets of Shibuya. Everyone ignored each other as they went on their way to wherever the hell they want to be. Usually, people stand out as important based on what they're wearing, but in Shibuya, everyone seemed important. Luckily, only a handful of them were.
Shuto "Shooter" Dan was running late for school one day when he decided to take a shortcut through A-East. His parents always advised him to totally avoid A-East at all costs, but he was late, and therefore, desperate. Shooter was in luck. During this time of day, no one could be found in A-East but… some guy standing in Shooter's way.
"Yo, get out of the way, bro!" Shooter called as he continued sprinting. Like a bird to a window, Shooter slammed right into the man, flying back to the ground.
"Hey, watch it, kid! You wanna die, huh?" the man asked, leaning over Shooter with an expression of hatred. The man had wicked sweet asymmetrical parted hair and a shaggy beard, all of which accompanied the heavy bags under his eyes and the long scar rising from his left cheek. Around his arm was a strip of cloth with a stylized skull on it. His shirt was ridiculously small and was only held together by one button. And on said shirt were a couple eerie lookin'…
"PINS, bro!" Shooter exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
The man stood straight, raising his one visible eyebrow. "--The hell?"
"You got some sweet pins, bro! You slammin'?"
"Slammin' what? Your face against the pavement? Cause I'm about to, you little maggot." The man replied cracking his knuckles.
"Nah. Slammin' pins! Tin Pin Slammer! You feel me, bro?!"
"I feel you getting on my nerves, punk. Beat it or I'll be forced to kill a bitch."
It finally occurred to Shooter that the man wasn't interested in Tin Pin Slammer, so he picked his bag up off the ground and ran off.
The man watched as the kid escaped into the busy streets of Dogenzaka. He hated the idea of crowds, but loved the idea of big cities, so Shibuya wasn't really the place for him. But he had been making due with A-East for the past several days, so he decided to hold his meeting there.
"Hehehe," came a voice from somewhere nearby, "What a jerk you are, Korasu…if that's really your name."
Korasu, the man who had just gotten over being antagonized by Shooter, grinned, revealing a small fang in the corner of his mouth. "It's the only name you'll know me by, Composer…" he said, turning to find a young boy with angelic hair and a snide expression.
The Composer displayed the phone in his hand. "I got your message. I didn't have anything better to do, so I came out here to see who you really were," he grinned with a flip of his hair, "I've heard some Reapers talk of you…You sound quite troublesome. Don't like rules, eh?"
"Damn right, man. The only rule I like is mine over Shibuya, get me?" Korasu replied.
The Composer spontaneously disappeared and reappeared sitting on the ledge of a building towering over Korasu. "Don't think you're the first one to act out. Are you familiar with Sho Minamimoto? He, too, attempted to take my life, much as I assume you're going to try." The Composer said, beginning to type on his phone.
Korasu looked up at the boy taking a hand out of his pocket. "Well, you know the difference between me and him?" he asked, pointing up at the Composer, "I won't fail." The he shot a beam of distorted static at the boy, blasting a hole right through his chest.
"B-but…That can't even be possible…" the Composer whispered.
"There. Told you I wouldn't fail," Korasu said, putting his hand back in his pocket.
"What do you plan to do? You can take over my position…that's what you wanted, right?" the Composer asked, barely able to keep himself on that plane. He felt like he getting pulled into a plane of pure static distortion, like hell, or something.
"No way," Korasu replied, turning away toward the Main Store, "I want this whole Reaper's Game shit to stop."
"But then, Shibuya will…" The Composer suddenly exploded into a rip of static and disappeared.
Korasu took out his phone and began to compose text messages at a farcical rate. One sent to someone named Satsujin, one to a Jisatsu, and one to a Neku Sakuraba. After he sent the messages, he dialed a number and made a call. "I did it, man. I killed the Composer."
If there was one thing Neku hardly cared about anymore, it was math class. After dealing with Minamimoto the previous year, he felt that he knew enough obscure mathematical references to last him a lifetime, and now, he was forced to memorize nominal equations which paled in comparison with the Reaper's vocabulary. But still, he was smart enough to ignore the teacher and still ace the tests…but not smart enough to set his phone to vibrate in class! His phone beeped indicating he had a new message.
"Holy crap!" Neku blurted, adding insult to the injury of his original disturbance. The class laughed at him, whereas the teacher couldn't look more pissed.
"Give me the phone, Neku. You can get it back after class." The teacher said.
'I'll probably forget I have a new message after class…' Neku thought, pulling his phone out of his pocket on the way to the teacher's desk. 'Figures,' he thought, checking the name on the phone, 'Just something from Joshua…He would try and get me in trouble.' Neku turned back around after dropping his phone off and met eyes with Shiki, who was smiling at him. He blushed and went back to his seat like an embarrassed fool. He sat down and sank into his chair, trying to ignore everyone, something he was growing good at.
Shiki leaned forward in her seat and whispered in Neku's ear, "Where's Joshua today, anyway?" Obviously, this cell phone fiasco had caused her to think of him. That boy always had one in his hand.
It took until that moment to realize Shiki was onto something. Just the other day, Joshua had approached Neku, in an ambiguously gay fashion, and mentioned that he'd be telling him something very important about something equally important…but Neku tried his hardest to block it from his mind.
Just then, his phone beeped again, now at the teacher's desk. Irritated, the teacher turned from the whiteboard and turned Neku's cell phone off.
'Good idea…' Neku thought, sensing the many eyes lock onto him. Through the snickers and whispers, Neku regained his composure and continued to ignore mathematical lecture.
Neku, Shiki, and Joshua did not share a homeroom with Beat, so they didn't get to see him until after school, from when he was commonly missing due to detentions and other indefinite punishments. This day, however, he went without any troublesome outbursts. The three met right outside the school gates.
"S'up, Phones?" Beat asked, grabbing Neku's hand and pulling him in for a pound on the back.
"Speaking of, Beat, Neku got a strange message in class today." Shiki said, pushing up her glasses.
"From who, yo?" Beat asked, letting go of Neku to allow the boy to take out his phone.
"Joshua," Neku replied, handing his cell to the skater, "Check it."
"Aight… 'the 4 horsemen ride. all pale. to kill: suicide, homicide, and dreariness. all into metal.' The hell does it mean, yo?" Beat asked, looking up at the other two.
"That isn't all. Check the next message." Neku said, leaning on a nearby wall.
Beat looked back at the phone and did so. He read, "'I killed the Composer. I killed the Reaper's Game. I killed all hope. You're next, proxy-boy.'" Beat looked back at Neku with a look of serious confusion, "I don' get it. What's this all mean, yo?"
"It sounds like whoever sent that unknown message killed Joshua…" Shiki began.
"I know dat, yo! I'm talkin' about pretty-boy's message, anyway!"
Shiki nodded and put a finger to her chin in thought. "Joshua was very vague. If he were to have been killed, it makes sense that he'd send such a short and grammatically incorrect message before his death…"
"--Or during," Neku added, taking his phone back and checking it over again, "Bastard would make his final words confusing."
Shiki sniffled, causing Neku and Beat to glare at her. "I'm sorry," she muttered, "But, what if Joshua is really dead? I mean, is that even possible?"
"After what happened last year, I'm inclined to believe anything's possible." Neku replied. He thought of the time when he thought Joshua had sacrificed himself to protect him from Minamimoto's level imaginary flare attack. Turned out that Joshua was some sort of Jesus. "Let's see if his message had some sort of meaning behind it. Maybe it could clear some stuff up."
The four horsemen ride.
"What…Death, war, plague, and what else?" Shiki asked.
"Doesn't matter. Next sentence says 'all pale.' That means that all the horsemen he's talking about are of Death." Neku said.
"Whoa, creepy, ain't it?" Beat whispered.
"Okay, so there are some guys riding horses of Death. So, what does that mean?"
To kill: suicide, homicide, and dreariness.
"Dreariness doesn't really have anything to do with killing. Why is that on the list after 'to kill'?" Neku asked himself aloud.
"Yo, Neku!!" the three heard someone call from the distance.
They looked down and saw Sanae Hanekoma, the man Neku just knew was more than meets the eye, walking toward them with a smile.
"Mr. Hanekoma!" Shiki exclaimed, smiling in return.
"Hey, Shiki. And hey, Daisukeno--"
"BWUAAH!!" Beat shouted, flailing his arms around like an idiot.
"It's okay, dude, we know your real name…" Neku muttered under his breath.
Hanekoma gave the three a cool look as he pulled out his cell phone. "You got this message, right, Neku?" he asked.
It was the exact same message from Joshua.
"Whoa, how'd you get that?" Neku asked, surprised.
"He sent it to both of us, it appears. You have any idea what it means?"
"You mean you don't?" Beats said, grinning. 'Finally, someone as dumb as me!' he thought.
"No, I get it," Hanekoma replied, crushing Beat's joy with a six ton press, "I just wanted to make sure you understood it. Neku," he said, grabbing hold of Neku's shoulders, "Joshua is seriously gone. And his killer is someone far worse than Minamimoto, Kitaniji, or anyone else you've ever faced."
"Faced? Wait, I'm not going back to the UG, if that's what you're getting at!" Neku cried, shaking Hanekoma off with a hysterical expression.
"The UG is gone. It's been gone. But this guy pulled what was left of it into the RG, making what Joshua and I have been calling the RUG, the real-underground."
"Wait," Beat interjected, grinning again, "The rug? You guys be living in a rug? That's whack, yo!"
"Not rug, RUG!" Shiki snapped, getting some well-needed silence from Beat. "Continue, please, Mr. Hanekoma."
"Thanks. Now, in the RUG, Reapers and Angels still have full power. Luckily, most Reapers don't know that; they just know they're not in the UG anymore."
"What about the plane the Noise fight on? Is that still around?" Neku asked.
"Yes. The Reaper that killed Joshua has an obsession with Noise. For some reason, the Noise accept him as one of their own."
"Wait, this is all getting too weird for me. If it means fighting some more and all that crap, leave me out of it." Neku said, beginning to walk away. He only got a few steps before Hanekoma said what he didn't want to hear.
"But you're a part of it now, proxy."
Neku sighed and turned back to face the three. "If he's dead, who am I a surrogate to?"
"The Reaper," Hanekoma said, adjusting his shades, "He took the spot from right under your nose."
"But I didn't even want it! He can be the stupid Composer for all I care!"
"Here's the thing: I'm not sure he wants it either. But I think he may want you to have it." Hanekoma replied, "The RUG is much more dangerous than the UG, remember. Now that this Reaper is targeting you, the Noise will follow suite. Watch yourself, Neku…" And with that, Hanekoma trailed off, heading back for Cat Street.
Meanwhile, a young Reaper by the name of Kariya walked slowly through the Miyashita Park Underpass. A train could be heard rumbled overhead as Kariya stopped to stare at some new graffiti that caught his eye. It was bold, bolder than he'd seen in awhile. Kariya always appreciated graffiti, but something about this made him sick. At the bottom of the bloody mess, it read, "The Rise of Death Metal." Not one for death metal, Kariya decided to ignore it and casually walk away. But he stopped when he felt a strange presence behind him.
"You diggin' my art, man?" the man asked.
Kariya turned to see who it was. No one familiar, just some random tagger punk. Taking the lollipop out of his mouth, Kariya replied, "It's too busy."
Sudden;y, the guy burst out laughing. "Busy?!" he exclaimed, "This ain't nothing compared to a fine-ass piece of death metal!"
Kariya raised an eyebrow at the man. Obviously, he had some sort of obsession with the uncommon musical genre.
"Like a sadistic sweep-picking solo, or a brutal breakdown, this masterpiece stands as the only testimony to my rise to controlling Shibuya." The man grinned, flashing a small fang.
Kariya's grinned and spun his lollipop between his fingers. "You're that Reaper from out west...Korasu; am I right?"
"You're bloody right, bitch, and I hope you're just as ready." Korasu said menacingly, pointing a highly accessorized arm at Kariya.
"For what?"
"Your death."