It was raining in Shibuya –a cold, uncomfortable rain that soaked through clothes and chilled foolish pedestrians to the very core. Umbrellas hung lamely from wrists, useless to protect their owners against the downpour. People scuttled this way and that, hurrying to the sheltering buildings and stores along CAT Street. The only store that wasn't a destination for the drenched was the WildKat Café. There was, however, an individual heading for the door.

Yoshiya Kiryu would have attracted an abnormal amount of attention had the streets of Shibuya not been sent into a flurry. His wavy, grey hair bounced as he walked, free from a single drop of water. His clothes too were dry, the blue button-up shirt and obsidian slacks as clean as the day they were pressed. Kiryu inspected his hand, admiring his handiwork as the raindrops evaporated before landing on his skin. He smirked, contemplating the chaos that would arise if he was spotted, and the real pandemonium that would ensue if he was ever seen in his true form. Now that would be quite a scene.

The bell above the door clanged as Kiryu entered WildKat and again when the door closed behind him. The store was all but empty, the only people inside were Kiryu himself and the café's owner, Sanae Hanekoma. Hanekoma had been drying mugs when the bell sounded. He looked up and the two locked gazes. Acknowledgement lit their faces.

"Well, well, well," Hanekoma smirked, setting down the mug in his hand and tossing his towel over his shoulder. "If it isn't the Composer himself. What brings you here today, Joshua?"

Kiryu didn't comment on the nickname. He had long since gotten used to being called Yoshua, or Joshua, as the English pronounced. The latter had struck a chord with Hanekoma, and he delighted in using it whenever possible. In the end, Kiryu grew attached to the name, and adopted it –especially when in his suppressed form. "You know exactly what I'm here for, Mr. H," Joshua said. He made his way to the counter and sat on a bar stool. He went straight to business. "Have you found him?"

"Yeah." Hanekoma poured a cup of coffee and slid it to Joshua. "He was lurking around in Udagawa."

"Status?" Joshua asked, taking a sip of the coffee.

"Recovering. He somehow managed to absorb his taboo energy and as a result, he's slowly returning to normal. The energy is healing him as he waits for the Game to start. No report yet on his power level. I've yet to see him in action."

"Take your best guess."

"He'll be strong," Hanekoma admitted. "The taboo energy is still within him, but it's healing his soul rather than exerting power, so he won't be as tough as before."

"He's still a threat," Joshua frowned. "Can we eliminate him early on?"

Hanekoma shook his head. "I've already had a stray noise sent to attack him, but there was no damage. He didn't even realize he'd been hit."

"A side effect to the taboo energy?"

"I believe so. It's given him near immunity to noise."

"Damn," Joshua cursed. He stared into the dark abyss of his coffee, the gears in his brain working overtime. "We'll have to up the ante. Sho Minamoto has to be erased as soon as possible."

"Agreed. It'd be disastrous if he became the Composer."

"Disastrous is a light term for the mangled heap of rubbish he'd make the UG... not to mention what would become of me. There's only two choices left." Joshua became frightfully serious. "Have you found any trace of the Music?"

"None so far," Mr. H said regretfully.

"Then we'll have to move on to Plan B. Minamoto can't be harmed by noise, but psychs should work just fine." Joshua's signature smirk stretched his lips. "It's time to bring in Neku Sakuraba."