Yes, another TWEWY one-shot. But this time I tried something funny. Tell me how miserably I failed in a review.
Just as a little background info: Everyone wonders what's around Neku's neck. But no one really knows (or at least, I don't). The two theories mentioned in this story are the most popular.
Disclaimer: I don't own TWEWY, and I'm out of funny, witty, and/or creative ways to express this. Kind of sad, since this a humor fic, huh?
Neku's Necklace
After surviving the Hell that was the Reaper's Game three times in a row, there were few things that Neku Sakuraba asked of life.
One of them was that he got his alone time.
You see, old habits die hard. As antisocial as Neku was before the Game, it would be almost impossible (and certainly illogical) for him to automatically open up and be friendly and happy and sunshine-y to everyone he met. It was still occasionally challenging for him to interact with his friends who'd been through Hell with him. Sometimes those darned emo urges just popped up at the most random, inconvenient times. And refused to go away.
This was one of those times.
So, here he was, sitting at the most deserted ramen shop in town, slurping down some of Ken Doi's delicious shoyu noodles, trying to get away from it all. It didn't help that he had been having one of the worst days he could ever remember having; he wasn't in the mood to talk it over. Music was blaring in his trademark purple headphones yet again, a sure sign that he did not want to be approached. He was sitting with his shoulders hunched forward slightly, in the far back corner of the restaurant, even though it was empty and he could've sat wherever he chose. Everything from his body language to his choice of head gear just screamed, "I won't take your crap today, so just get the hell away from me!" One would have to be completely, utterly, helplessly stupid (or perhaps have a death wish) to even attempt to engage Neku in any kind of conversation in this state. Right?
It was at that moment that Neku's oh-so-perceptive pal Beat walked…ahem, barreled in, followed by a more reserved and timid Shiki.
Neku promptly choice to ignore this distraction, and continued to eat his ramen indifferently.
Beat, however, was not known for being particularly adept at reading body language.
"Yo, PHONES! How's it goin'?" he yelled to the other boy, running over and plopping down in the seat across from Neku.
Neku, appalled that Beat hadn't picked up on any of the signs, gave Beat his best death glare. He seemed totally unaffected by it.
By now, Shiki had joined them at the table (rather uneasily). "So me an' Shiki here, we was talkin' the other day about…" Here, the orange-haired teen began to effectively tune out Beat's side of the conversation, which was the only side. If he concentrated on his meal and his music, he could just barely pretend that no one else was there…
"YO, PHONES! You listen when I'm talkin' to you, aight?" Beat suddenly burst out, waving a hand in front of Neku's face to capture his attention.
"Um, Beat, maybe now isn't the best time to bother him…" Shiki warned, noticing Neku's alarming countenance. He now had a vicious look on his face, and appeared to be contemplating whether or not he should try to bite Beat's hand. Said hand was jerked away roughly.
Shiki attempted to change the subject. "H-Hey, Neku! I've been wondering… What's that, ah, thing you're wearing around your neck?"
Neku blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in subject, then looked down at the cord hanging below his collar. He held up the small white tube attached to the end. "What, this? …It's an Mp3 player."
Beat gasped in shock and reeled backwards from the table, almost falling from his chair. "BWAAAAHHH! You serious, Phones!"
Neku raised an eyebrow at Beat's comical over-reaction. "Um… yeah."
Shiki giggled and turned away from Neku. "Pay up, Beat!"
The skater hung his head and fished around in his pocket for a moment, finally pulling out some Yen and slapping it on the table. "Aight, one bowl 'a ramen for you… But, damn, I was sure I had it this time…"
Shiki just chuckled again. "There's no way that Neku would be wearing—"
"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" the orange-haired teen interrupted hotly, now focusing his glare on Shiki.
After exchanging a nervous glance with Beat, Shiki began with, "Well, you see, Neku, we kind of made a bet earlier this week…and it involved you…"
Neku groaned. Why was he always the one that was unwillingly forced into being the subject of stupid bets between annoying people? Granted, this one didn't have to do with the fate of Shibuya… But it was still just as exasperating to him!
By now, Neku's flame-colored bangs hung low over his eyes. It added to the ominous sense of foreboding. "What…kind of bet?"
Shiki was obviously very uncomfortable now. She apparently thought that whatever this bet was, it wouldn't please Neku very much. Maybe she was aware of his sensitivity to the word? "Um, it was… No one really knows what that necklace-thing you always wear is… And me and Beat had different…theories."
"I'm guessing yours was an Mp3 player?" Neku's hair was still covering the top half of his face, making him seem expressionless and like he wasn't talking to them. It was very disconcerting; at least, for Shiki.
"Y-Yeah… You guessed right."
"And Beat's?"
"Ah, well, that is, it was, or rather, he said it was—"
"Get on with it."
"Um, a…" Here, Shiki's voice was lowered to an inaudible whisper. "…mmmpmn…"
Neku had, by now, looked up from under his bangs, due to Shiki's stalling tactics. His eye twitched. "A what?"
"A…uh…well…tmmpmmm…"
"A what?"
Shiki's voice was getting slightly louder. "A…tmmp—"
"A WHAT?"
"OH, FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD, I THOUGHT IT WAS A TAMPON!" Beat finally shouted.
This seemingly random outburst apparently caught the attention of the one other customer in Ramen Don. Said patron stormed out with a look of disgust on her face, which, in turn, caused Ken Doi to glare belligerently at them for losing him part of his very, very precious group of customers. If shopkeepers' friendship gauges could have gone down, his definitely would have been in negative numbers.
Neku promptly ignored this, though. He was too busy having a seizure in the corner. Well, it was only mentally. Outwardly, his shoulders were just hunched up even farther, and his bangs had come down to cover even more of his face. Beat was regarding him with the kind of expression of caution mixed with fear and curiosity that you would only get when you find a feral animal lying on the side of the road and you aren't sure if it's dead, so you poke it with a stick and see what happens.
Well, Beat shouldn't have poked Neku with the proverbial stick.
"Beat," Neku said in a deadly, cold, quiet voice that could still be heard all throughout the restaurant.
Said teen, for some unfathomable reason, thought he might be off the hook. So he let his guard down.
"Yeah, Neku?"
That was when Neku exploded.
"WHY THE HELL WOULD THAT BE YOUR FIRST GUESS?"
