Another one-shot! This time just a little thought that's been bouncing off the cavern of my skull for a while now... I'm not really happy with how it turned out, but hey. Constructive criticism and random reviews welcome!
25/11/08: Slightly edited. I'm a little happier with it now.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own. Now away with you!
A Time For Change
Dimming sunlight cuts swaths of tawny gold over the cleanswept floor of the Wildkat, the neatly-placed tables and chairs casting oblique shadows that stalked the muted walls and marched along the floortiles. Sipping at a freshly brewed cup of coffee, Sanae Hanekoma perched alone behind the gleaming counter, idly flipping through the pages of a magazine. An open leatherbound notebook and a fountain pen lay pushed to one side, the latter absently left uncapped; flowing cursive script covered half of one page before ending in a decisive period, the notebook and its contents apparently abandoned for now.
Humming tunelessly, Sanae flicked through more of the magazine, then took another sip of hot coffee and sighed in contentment. This was the life; no rogue Noise or errant Game Masters to chase down, no Composer tantrums to deal with, and no Players who needed saving. For now, at least... But who was he, to not try and enjoy the moment? He chuckled quietly to himself.
The cheerful tinkling of a bell rang out suddenly in incongruous counterpoint, interrupting his solitude. Without raising his head, he lazily lifted a hand in greeting - only one person dared disregard his signs and invade his little sanctuary without invitation.
"Sanae, Sanae, Sanae," a light tenor chimed, clicking his tongue in mock reprimand. Moments later, a slender young man slid himself into the opposite seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. "One day I'm going to have to start charging you rent. Perhaps that'll serve as sufficient motivation to actually have customers?"
Sanae merely chuckled again, looking up to meet a laughing, violet gaze. "Hey, boss. Cuppa joe for ya?"
"Sure, why not? Brew me up something special, and I'll even pay," Joshua offered wryly, running a hand through his artlessly mussed hair.
"What an honour, Composer, sir," was the dry retort as the barista stood and busied himself with his beloved beans. As the rich aroma of coffee filled the room, he wondered if this visit meant that trouble was on the way; not that Joshua had never dropped by just to say hi, but the recent weeks had witnessed a rather alarming spate of the former.
"No, no, I'm only here to relax and participate in a bit of consumerism, my dear Producer," the silverhead volunteered brightly, twirling the fountain pen between his fingers. A small smile hovered over his lips as he turned his unfocused gaze towards the far wall. "All on your behalf, may I add - the rent and all that."
"Aww, c'mon, after all I've done for you?" Sanae wheedled automatically, playing along though he knew full well that the threat would never come to pass. Probably. They had worked together for far too long, and too smoothly.. Even if his boss did have the disconcerting habit of reading his thoughts and answering them aloud. Smirking, he set the newly-brewed cup down in front of Joshua before resuming his seat."'Sides, who else is gonna give you the privilege of private back rooms?"
The Composer cradled the coffee in both hands, eschewing a response as he took a few cautious sips and murmured with appreciation. "Mm... Your talent's really wasted, Sanae, though I could certainly get used to having my own personal barista."
He pointedly ignored the latter comment in favour of the compliment. "Thanks, boss. Good enough to be worth paying for, I hope?"
"Sure, if you have change for a thousand."
"You know I don't. Tips are always welcome, though!"
"Hmph. Coffee's good, but you cheat your customers," Joshua tsked, wagging a free finger in admonition. "If you had more, you would have the change!"
Sanae rolled his eyes dramatically. "I only ever get you and Phones in here, so what's the point? Plus, it makes for nice tips," he added, stroking his stubble and feigning a calculative leer.
"Excuses, excuses," the silverhead waved his hand dismissively, pushing away the partly-empty cup. A slow grin unfurled on his face as he turned to contemplate the disused cash register. His Producer knew that smile well - that light in his half-lidded eyes could only spell mischief.
"Thought of some new business strategy?" Sanae took a stab, reflexively polishing the gleaming countertop with a washcloth.
"You could say that," came the offhanded remark as Joshua closed his eyes, a small frown creasing his brow. A sudden surge of power made the older man sit up; almost invisible to the eye, white sparks pooled on the counter, coalescing into a small circular shape...
"A pin?" the Producer picked it up as the power died away, rubbing a thumb over its blank surface. "Whatcha want me to do with it?"
"Whatever you please," Joshua smirked, giving the pen between his fingers another careless spin. "Make something nice for the Players, and let them bring in the small change."
Sanae laughed outright, pleased and quietly relieved that the Game hadn't taken its toll on the Composer. If he could still take the time to banter about Wildkat's customers and spare the power to create that pin... "Make them do the legwork, huh? I see you've perfected the art of delegation."
"Ninety-nine of each of the smaller yen pins should do," mused the younger obliviously, sipping the last of his coffee. "Turn them in and you'll have a nice little hoard."
"Aye aye, boss, whatever you say," the dark-haired man mock-saluted, by now used to the other's selective hearing. Oh, it wasn't that Joshua didn't listen - he did, and often much too well; the difficulty lay in getting him to respond when he felt otherwise inclined. Time for a different tack. "Why the sudden concern, anyhow? Where's Neku?"
"Oh, he's shopping in the area, so I thought I'd drop by for a bit. Not really interested in his Monkey stuff, I still think he'd look absolutely stunning in Lapin Angelique."
Biting back a laugh at the thought of spiky-headed, headphone-sporting Neku in frilly lace and lolita-dress splendour, Sanae glanced briefly at the notebook, his thumb still tracing the contours of the pin. "Ease off on the guy, J, he's under enough pressure as is from your vibe." Knowing full well how obnoxious Joshua could get if he put his mind to it, he could only pity the proxy, even if it was the best (if most risky) approach to testing and stabilising his Soul. Sometimes, he wondered...
"Pish posh. It's not like I want to, Sanae," the silverhead pouted, though the amused quirk to his lips belied his innocence. "But he's so fun to tease, and I do have to give him a reason for the strain. A well-behaved partner doesn't exactly account for unexplained stress."
"Yeah, yeah, and 'sides, you enjoy it, don't you?" On the wings of a stray thought as he lifted his coffee cup, Sanae trickled a pulse of power into the pin, etching his mental visualisation on its pristine face and reshaping its psych to match. It was the perfect inspiration - not to mention that he finally had the chance to fully flesh out that yin-yang graffiti conceptualisation he'd had for a while now.
"I won't say it makes for boring days," was the amiable agreement. Joshua flicked his gaze over the reworked pin while he spoke, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side as if listening to a whispered tune. "Lovely art, as always. And mm-mm, that sounds like wonderful coffee."
"Doesn't it? I'd love to get this visionary blend in, but you know the state of my funding," Sanae exhaled a heavy sigh, the effect spoiled by a gravelly chuckle. "My boss doesn't pay me enough."
"Earn your keep, my dear Producer," Joshua chirped blithely, his head cocked at the same listening angle. He pursed his lips in thought for but a moment before his eyes lit up and came back into focus. Beaming an enigmatic smile at the barista, the silver-haired young Composer slipped fluidly off his seat and lifted a languid hand in farewell. "I hate to be rude, but Neku's almost done with his little trip. Gotta run."
The bell by the door chimed before said Producer could recover his wits enough to summon up more than a "see ya, boss." Tossing the empty cups into the trash, he shook his head ruefully. Once again, Joshua had managed to escape without the promised payment... And he called him a cheapskate!
Still shaking his head, he stared contemplatively at the pin in his hand. The clean lines of his signature work stared back, the stylised feline facades mirrored in striking black-and-white.
Ah well, if I get this sold for ninety-nine... hmm... 1-yen, 5-yen, and 10-yen pins... That oughta cover the cost. And get me some of that change he keeps harping on about. Yeah.