A deafening screech split the silent winter air. Time slowed to a crawl. In slow motion, I saw the black truck at the edge of my vision. It hurtled forward, unstoppable, oblivious to the efforts of its brakes. Barreling straight toward me.

Suddenly, a hand slammed into my back. Shoved me forward, out of the truck's path. Its owner was beyond my sight, but I knew who it was.

I stumbled onto the sidewalk, Mr. Mew falling from my hands. Behind me, I heard it. The sound carried along the rushing air of the truck's wake.

A sickening crunch.

And he was gone.


Another Game

A World Ends With You Fanfic

Chapter 1: Despair


Earlier

"Yo, Phones! We been waitin' for, like, days, man!"

"Shut up, Beat. You only called me ten minutes ago."

"Yeah, well... we still been waitin'! Ain't that right, Rhyme?"

"Umm..."

"Don't drag her down to your level, Beat. Or, should I say, Daisukenojo-"

"Bwaaaah! Shaddup, Phones! You wanna get back in the Game?"

I tried to fight down a giggle as I watched the two guys fight. As usual, I failed. And as usual, they were way too caught up in their squabble to notice. Rhyme turned toward me, though, and shrugged. That gesture had come to universally mean, "They're impossible." She was using it a lot lately.

'These two were partners for a week?' I asked myself, watching Beat howl at an impassive Neku. 'How on earth did they survive?'

Most days, I would have been happy to let them duke it out until they wore down. Today, though, we had to get moving. And I had brought just the tool for the job. I motioned at Rhyme to be quiet as I took off my backpack. She tilted her head quizzically, but stayed silent.

Neku had told me a lot about what happened in his second and third weeks of the Game. That was where I had gotten the idea for breaking up his and Beat's battle. I carefully pulled the key component of my strategy from my backpack: a megaphone.

I shot quick looks right and left. The street in front of Towa Records was pretty empty, but this was still going to make a scene. 'Better make it quick.' First, a deep breath. Then, at the top of my lungs into the megaphone:

"Sine! Cosine! TANGENT!" The response was immediate.

"Bwaah! What the-"

"Pi-face! Where-"

Neku whirled around, panic written all over his face. Beat all but fell over in shock. The sight was so comical, I doubled over in laughter. Rhyme was right there with me. I could almost see the gears spinning in Neku's head as he tried to piece it together.

"Shiki... you... megaphone... but... huh?" The look on his face was priceless. The urge to laugh hit me again, but we had started to get weird looks from the other passerby. Rhyme bent over to help Beat to his feet. He was still spluttering things no one could understand. The guy looked seriously freaked. I filed this trick away for future reference. It was definitely a winner.

But for now, there were more important things to worry about. I grabbed Neku by the wrist and dragged him along with me, ignoring his cries of confused protest. "Come on, the movie is gonna start soon!"

"Oh, yeah!" He sounded sheepish, as though he'd actually forgotten the reason that we all met up. "But what about Beat and-"

"They'll catch up," I interrupted. We were running late enough as it was. We had never been the best organized group of friends in the three months since we came back to the RG. I knew that. Neku still had some trouble letting down his walls – though he was getting better – and Beat was always getting caught up in some trouble or other. But we'd managed to stick together so far.

If their immature fighting meant that we didn't make it to this movie, though, I might send them back to the UG myself.

I let go of Neku's arm to weave my way through the thick Shibuya crowd. The theater wasn't far, just a couple of blocks over. We would probably still be able to make it before tickets sold out.

A bustling intersection blocked the way. I impatiently looked both ways across the street, waiting for an opening. Mr. Mew – I was never without him – was pressed against my chest. My old partner struggled through the throng of people behind me.

A break in traffic appeared. I jumped on the opportunity, hurrying into the middle of the street.

Neku's voice called out from behind me. "Shiki, look out!"

A deafening screech split the silent winter air. Time slowed to a crawl. In slow motion, I saw the black truck at the edge of my vision. It hurtled forward, unstoppable, oblivious to the efforts of its brakes. Barreling straight towards me.

Suddenly, a hand slammed into my back. Shoved me forward, out of the truck's path. Its owner was beyond my sight, but I knew who it was.

I stumbled onto the sidewalk, Mr. Mew falling from my hands. Behind me, I heard it. The sound carried along the rushing air of the truck's wake.

A sickening crunch.

And he was gone.


Everything afterward was a blur.

A panic in the streets. People screaming, children crying. Rhyme's hand on my shoulder. Sirens. A man in some kind of uniform – police, or a doctor – insisting I stand up. Beat punching him in the face. Another panic. More yelling.

None of it registered. It all pooled together, just a cacophony of frenzied, disconnected, meaningless noises. Every one of them was proof, was salt in the wound.

Because in all those sounds, all those voices, the only one I didn't hear was his. The one person I needed to hear.

The pavement rushed up to meet me as my world went black.


Two Days After the Accident

"You have eleven new messages. Message One:"

"Shiki? Shiki, it's me, Eri. Listen… I know that you're really in no mood to talk right now. But I want you to know that we're all here for yo-"

"Message deleted. Message Two:"

"Yo, uh, Shiki… it's Beat. Umm… I'm really sorry 'bout Phones… me and Rhyme are taking it pretty har-"

"Message deleted. Message Three:"

"Attention Shiki Misaki. You have four overdue-"

"Message deleted. Message Fo-"

I shut the phone. There was no way I could bear to hear all these well-wishers. The cell slipped from my hand to the floor as I buried my head in the pillow, and the tears started flowing anew.


Five Days After the Accident

"You have sixty-seven new messages. Message One:"

"Hey… uh, this is Rhyme. Shiki, we're getting really worried. Nobody's seen you since Neku… well… just, please talk to us. I'm afraid-"

"Message deleted. Message Two:"

"Shiki, it's Eri again. Why won't you respond to my messages? I've called you so many times… I just really need to talk-"

"Message deleted. Message Three:"

"Dammit, Shiki! He's gone, 'aight? He's gone, and they ain't lettin' 'im back inta th' Game! There's nothin' we can do 'bout it! So enough'a your damn sulking. You think this is what he'd want! You oughtta know Phones better than that! Rhyme's all but cryin' herself to sleep, worryin' about you! So at least come out an' talk to us. You gotta trust us that much at least."

"End of message. To save it in the arch-"

I clenched onto Mr. Mew hard enough that the stitching I had put so much time and heart into began to rip. I couldn't see it through the tears.

What hurt the most was that I knew he was right.


Seven Days After the Accident

"You have one hundred and eight new messages. Messa-"

Today, I didn't even have the energy to listen to the first few. They would all say the same things, anyway.

Today was my last shred of hope. For the first time in a week, I had left – in fact, stormed out of my house, not even stopping to acknowledge my stunned parents. The only place, the only thing in my mind, was Hachiko.

The Reaper's Game was seven days long. If, by some miracle, he had played in this Game, and won – and he would win, I knew. There was no way he could ever lose. If he won, he would know this was the place. If he won, this would be the day.

I sat down in front of the statue – the same place we first met – and waited.

The sun rose to its peak in the sky. Clouds moved in to obscure it. Rain began to fall; first softly, then a downpour. I didn't care. I had to be here. He had to be here.

Eventually, the clouds left the sky. Behind them was revealed the moon.

He hadn't come.

With a start, I realized the phone in my hands was buzzing. In hindsight, it had rung time and again while I sat there. I had never noticed.

This time it was a text message.

"I'm sorry about Phones. Come by the café. My treat, for real this time. S. Hanekoma"

I simply stared at the screen blankly. Then, almost without realizing it, my legs lifted me and I began to walk.


The coffee was good, as always. But I couldn't taste it. True to his word, Mr. H. hadn't tried to charge me. In fact, he hadn't said a single word since I came in. Neither had I. He had simply set a cup of coffee in front of me and gone back to cleaning dishes. It was well past closing time; no one else would be coming in.

The silence was suffocating. Every now and again, I saw him glance at me out of the corner of my eye. He would always shake his head and move on to the next cup. I drained my glass. He wordlessly refilled it. It went on like this for nearly half an hour.

Finally, I couldn't take any more. I spoke, my voice rough and cracked. "Why isn't he back?"

Hanekoma gazed at me solemnly for a moment. Then, he set down the dish he was wiping off and answered. "For one thing, the Reaper's Game isn't held every week. But Neku was barred from ever participating again. I thought he told you."

I shook my head furiously. "No! No, he told me, but so what? Kitaniji was lying when he said that was the Composer's decision. And anyway, couldn't you make Joshua-"

"I'm not going to make the Composer do anything. That's not how I work. And you're right, that decision was not made by Him – but it was within Kitaniji's authority at the time, and I doubt He sees any reason to overrule it." With that, he turned away from me, so I couldn't see his face.

"You see, Joshua likes games. Especially when the stakes are high. Neku's ban was a result of one of His games, and He abides by His own rules. Besides, He wouldn't see any purpose in having Neku run the Game again. Phones has already proven he can take down anything the Reapers can throw at him. Joshua may like Neku, but that's not enough reason to bring him back."

I could feel the sadness and regret in his voice. But I didn't want to hear it. I didn't have any words left to speak, or tears left to cry. I could only sit in that chair and shake.

I could feel his eyes on me. I didn't care. I was too caught up in my own thoughts. The things I had refused to think about for the last week all flooded me at once.

I remembered meeting Neku in front of Hachiko, wearing Eri's face. Him snubbing me off until he had no choice. Neku, raising me off the ground, ready to kill me to escape the Game. All the struggles and sadness and laughs that filled our seven days as partners.

Over those days, I felt so happy as Neku started to open up. As he started to trust me, I felt connected to him in a way I had never felt before. It wasn't just the pact. When he found out the truth, that the "me" he saw was actually Eri, he told me, "I like you for who you are." It was the first time anyone had told me that. I felt like grabbing onto him and never letting go. He seemed even closer to me than Eri had ever been.

The way my heart soared when we met – apparently two weeks later – and he told me I had been his entry fee. I waved my hands and spluttered, but inside I was the happiest I had ever been. And now, this last week, I had found out that life without him wasn't worth living. It was worse than death. After everything he had done for my sake, I couldn't help him.

Under all these memories and revelations, I could only shake in my seat, wracked with dry sobs. I nearly spilled the coffee in front of me. I knew Mr. Hanekoma was watching, but he stayed silent.

Until I heard him just barely breathe, "Maybe."

I caught my breath as he turned on his heel and strode to the back room. Straining my ears, it seemed like he was talking on the phone. I couldn't hear his words.

After a few minutes, he walked slowly back into the main room. Under his arm, he carried a small box.

I gathered my voice enough to ask, "Well?"

Mr. H sighed. "A Reaper's Game will be held starting tomorrow."

My heart lifted, just a little. Just a tiny spark of hope. "Neku…?"

He averted his eyes. "Will not be participating." Before I could respond, he added, "However… I proposed an unusual suggestion to Joshua. He's accepted the challenge." He set down the box on the counter before turning around to hide his face again. "Open it."

I hesitantly lifted the lid of the container. The shape inside was unmistakable.

"The Composer is willing to allow Shiki Misaki to participate in the Game on behalf of Neku Sakuraba."

A pistol rested innocently in the box.

"I told you. Joshua likes even games with high stakes. Phones may have proven himself well beyond the level of the Reaper's Game, but you're still a fairly average Player. This time, you'll be fighting for Neku's second chance. It's your choice, either way."


A/N: I just stayed up 'til 3:30 AM writing this fic. I don't have the energy for much of an author's note. I know I'm mainly a Pokemon author, but I played TWEWY and went "Wow, this is awesome, I'ma go write a fic about it."

The continuation of this will be left up to my readers. I'm proud of my writing here, but a bit more on the fence with the actual story. So, let me know with that nifty little review button.

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends With You. If I did, it would already have three sequels and a movie tie-in.

Thanks for reading and see ya later, fanfic-reading radians.