AN: Hi, this is a two-shot, second chapter should be up by the end of the month. Thanks for reading!

Loose Ends

Cat Street was alive with the mid-afternoon crowd when Joshua slipped silently into Wildkat, shrugging off his raincoat and throwing it haphazardly on the edge of an empty chair. Unlike most days, the café actually had a few customers – people desperate to escape the rain and prolong their home commutes with a warm cup of tea or coffee. Sanae Hanekoma greeted Joshua with a quick glance and a smile, but did not address him. The boy's UG vibes were thrumming, and he didn't need the few customers he had today to think he was a nutcase talking to himself.

"Oh my, it seems everyone else had the same idea I did to escape the rain,"Joshua said with his signature smirk, perched languidly on top of the counter, "Hardly original."

"Get your butt off my counter, I just cleaned that,"Mr. H hissed under his breath, pretending to swat an imaginary fly as he shoved Joshua off. The boy laughed under his breath but relented nonetheless, sliding off the counter and moving around to the other side of the display case.

"And has your favorite customer paid a visit yet today?"he asked with a knowing smile, "By favorite customer I mean besides me, of course." Sanae poured another cup of coffee for a couple by the window before moving back to the counter and dipping his head low so nobody could see him whispering.

"Hey, J, if you want to chitchat, I suggest you tune into the RG where people can see you. Kinda busy at the moment." Joshua leaned back, nonchalantly crossing his legs over the bar stool he was seated on.

"Oh, but the UG vibes are so much more comfortable here. Why don't you come join me instead? I'm sure it would give your customers a delightful show – much more entertaining than sitting around watching the rain."

"If only we all had jobs as entertaining as yours, boss."

"Mr. H? Who are you talking to?"a voice from another table asked.

"Mhhm? Oh, nothing, nothing. We have a cat in the back – sometimes she likes to sneak out here,"Sanae said, turning his back to Joshua and moving over to the table to chat with the customers. Joshua watched, bobbing his foot up and down as he waited for the crowd to thin and the rain to ease up. This week's game had been uneventful and slow, and Joshua could afford the down time.

He looked down at the counter he was seated on and felt the corners of his lips twitch upward in a small smile at the sight of the familiar scratch on the wood of the counter from when Josh was a schoolboy and Mr. H had let him do his homework here. Joshua had been working on a project when an unfortunate slip of the scissors had left a nasty gash in the counter that Mr. H had never been able to cover up. And Joshua knew if he was sitting in the seat of the couple in the corner, he would find a paint stain from when Mr. H had asked Joshua to help paint the walls, and Joshua's young, inexperienced hand had made the paintbrush fall, even under the older man's attentive care. There were cups in the kitchen that were his and only his; nicks and scratches around the café that were testaments to Josh's presence here; things that reiterated his history with this place and with Mr. H.

He had been twelve when he met Sanae Hanekoma. Something had snapped inside Joshua that day. Maybe it had been the week of high-tension therapy appointments he was tired of being dragged to; maybe it was that he was sick of lying in bed pretending he didn't hear his parents arguing over their schizophrenic head-case son; or maybe it was simply that, even though he had dealt with his visions long enough to know that the monsters he saw everywhere he went did not touch him, their mere presence was a constant reminder that things were not okay. He had snuck out of the house one day, intent on finding a hiding spot his parents wouldn't think to find him in. He had passed the park when he had found the café on the other side of town, and when he went inside he simply sat in the corner, bringing his knees up to his chest and turning away the young barista who came to take his order. He had another therapy session scheduled in a few hours, and his parents would realize he was missing. For all his efforts to be a "normal" child for them, though, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to escape it all.

Sanae Hanekoma had given Joshua a ten-minute warning when the shop was about to close, and instead of kicking the boy out when the last customer left, he sat down and asked the boy what was eating him. Joshua hadn't completely confided in him then – after all, his parents were constantly reminding him never to talk about the strange visions he saw of black winged-characters and strange creatures loitering around the streets of Shibuya to strangers – it would scare them away, they said. But when Mr. H had offered to walk young Joshua safely home, he had caught the boy staring anxiously at the Reapers guarding the walls they had put up, often asking to make small detours to avoid certain areas or blatantly walking around Noise in the street. The man was kind, though, and easy to talk to. Joshua snuck out of the house to visit his café twice more before he finally confessed his secret. A massive weight was lifted off his chest that day – one that he had been so used to carrying that he had almost forgotten it was there until he had met Mr. H. Until then, his life had been spent having pills shoved down his throat to make him forget who he was by people who claimed they loved him. He had always been alone, alienated by the constant struggle to be normal and an innate inability to connect with anything having to do with this realm. Having someone to talk to about what he was seeing, to validate his experiences and accept them as they were had been all Joshua had ever wanted. That moment had been Joshua's "awakening." That was the moment the Game turned from a roadblock to a potential road to success.

Bored and tired of waiting, Joshua decided to wander into the kitchen to help himself to a snack. Mr. H was running low on Bouillabaisse, so Joshua decided to spare him the trouble and make a fresh batch. He knew his way around the kitchen – Mr. H had taught him the recipes for all the café's main items years ago the month Joshua had lived with him. It was Mr. H's idea at the time – Joshua's parents were nearing a breaking point and Mr. H had decided to come forward and introduce himself to the family, offering his place for Joshua to stay as a sort of "respite" for everyone. Of course, it wasn't easy convincing his parents to consent to their only child staying with a stranger, but they were desperate at the time, and Mr. Hanekoma's charm and easy temperament helped tip the lid. That month ended up being one that stood out in Joshua's memory as the best in his childhood – not that he had ever told Mr. H that to his face. Still, he thought as he watched the water slowly come to a boil, it had seemed so obvious, he had never thought that he would have needed to tell him.

Until now.

Joshua was uncharacteristically melancholy as he carefully stirred the broth in the pot, gently seasoning it the way Mr. H had taught him to. A rush of sweet aromas filled his nose and he felt his stomach lurch with hunger. He was lost in thought and worry until he heard the sound of Mr. H coming into the kitchen.

"I'm adding chives to the recipe," Joshua announced when Mr. H suddenly rushed in, three tickets in his hand.

"Don't poison my customers with your pretentious seasoning preferences," the older man chided, playfully trying to swipe the cutting knife out of Joshua's hand.

"Chives help lift the flavor, Mr. H,"Joshua said, holding the knife and cutting board out of reach, "I'm giving you better business."

"Keep your disgusting chives out of my soup,"he said with a nonthreatening warning look, taking the ladle from the pot and filling three bowls.

"Are you positive you feel safe serving that?" Joshua teased with a smirk.

"You're mopping the entire café if they don't like it."

"And you owe me their tips if they do,"he countered back with a knowing smile.

"You're on. Get the mop ready, boss." He disappeared back into the café with soup in hand before he had time to hear one of Josh's snarky remarks. Joshua chuckled lightly to himself, pouring a bowl for himself and leaned languidly on the edge of the counter. The back kitchen was haphazardly organized, albeit practical for Mr. H's unorthodox profession. The cutting knives would have looked out of place to anyone but Joshua sitting next to a set of acrylic paints, pencils and sheets of sketch paper underneath just-cleaned dishware, even evidence of paint stains on kitchenware that had escaped the crowded art table in the back of the kitchen. Joshua moved there now, peering over at the sketches Mr. H had been working on, breathing in the smell of paint still drying, breathing in the smell he had come to recognize as home. This had been his safe haven once.

It was another hour before the rain let up and the crowd finally began to disperse. Sanae slapped on the "closed" sign with a sigh as the last customer hurried out to make their home commute.

"Phew,"he sighed when he rejoined Joshua in the kitchen, "Glad that's over."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself,"Joshua said, sitting patiently at the table in the back, a cup of tea now in his hands that he had helped himself to.

"What, three jobs just for fun? The coffee must be getting to me."

"Whatever would you do if you had the free time that I do?"Joshua asked, crossing his legs and leaning back against the counter.

"Probably not pester old men like you, that's for sure,"Mr. H responded with a sideways nudge into Joshua's sides as he began wiping down the counter, "Anyway. How you been, J?"

"Same thrumming indifference, the usual senseless noise and chaos of the city. Already mundane and routine." Mr. H frowned as he polished a glass and set it aside.

"I was asking how you were, not how your job was."

"What's the difference? I'm just another faceless entity to this city, aren't I?" Mr. H looked up, setting another glass aside and straightening so he could face the boy.

"Everything okay?"

"Well no, actually. You see I saw Neku the other day,"Joshua announced. This time Mr. H did turn to look at him, pausing in his cleaning.

"He seemed very distressed over something, so I was nice enough not to confront right then and there. I decided to scan him instead. Luckily he wasn't carrying his player pin – he's strangely attached to it for some reason. It seems…,"he said, glancing up at Mr. H through long lashes, "…He has remained invested in the game and was troubled over a certain….secret report that he had managed to collect." For a moment, the café was so silent that the only thing that could be heard was the gentle patter of rain on the roof. Mr. H stared at Joshua, frozen on the spot as he regarded the boy, appearing relaxed and nonchalant even when he knew it was just part of the game he liked to play. Inside he knew the boy was lit dynamite, that he wasn't going to blow until he knew he had Sanae pinned up against a wall.

"Well?" Mr. H felt his throat tighten as he struggled to speak.

"Well what?"

"You tried to kill me." He said it so dryly, so straight-forwardly, even Mr. H couldn't quite decipher the tone behind his voice.

"It's laughable, really, that you thought that fool Minimiamoto could stand a chance against me, but the fact remains,"Joshua said with a tense, false smile, "You tried to kill me."

"Josh…"

"My own proxy found out before I did."

"I made sure that information wouldn't be easy to find, but it was available to you, too, you know, if you had bothered to search for it. It's not like I just came out and told him – if you had wanted to know as much as he did"-

-"As much as he did? And why would he want to know at all? How is that any Neku's his business?" Joshua's face faltered for a moment as he realized his mistake. He had lost control. He quickly composed himself, sucking in a breath to stop the slight trembling that had begun in his hands. Mr. H saw through all of this, though. He knew Joshua well enough to know he had to choose his words carefully.

"He felt vulnerable, J. He had been kept in the dark the whole game and he didn't like having unanswered questions. He wanted closure, that's all. I knew you had your suspicions, but I didn't think you needed that closure. At least not that kind of closure."

"Oh? Do elaborate." The older man sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Josh, trust me when I say it wasn't personal…"

"Oh, but isn't it?"Joshua said, crossing his legs, "If I'm not mistaken, you gave up your wings for this. You truly went out of your way for such an impersonal gesture."

"Shibuya is a massive hub of Imagination and creativity, Joshua, but you get lost in the mundane so often that it blindsided you to its potential. I tried to warn you, distract you, convince you otherwise. Please believe me when I say I didn't want to hurt you if I could help it." Distant eyes betrayed him even as his expression retained that god-awful smirk, and Sanae could only guess where his thoughts were wandering. Perhaps of weeks ago under the awning of this very café, Sanae holding Joshua's arms so tight as the wrath of the heavens echoed his fury at hearing about the wager he had made. Perhaps even of further back, countless times under that same awning, his arms and presence instead a comfort and haven even now after all these years.

"Well,"Joshua finally said, abruptly standing and moving for the door, "You certainly failed in that aspect."

"I'm not done,"Mr. H said curtly, intercepting him, "Josh, I was doing my job to protect Shibuya. I would have done the same thing with anybody else sitting in your seat – the fact that it had to be you sitting in that chair didn't make it any easier. I know you like to play games, and for the most part, I let you. But you put too much at stake this time, and I had to do something."

"I know,"Joshua replied dryly, for once lacking his usual tone of sarcasm. He looked Hanekoma squarely in the eye, challenging the assumption that he did not understand when, of course, he did. Who else but a "god" would understand that some things were bigger than the petty relationship between two friends. Friendship was trivial, finite, and confined to the interests of smaller parties than Joshua had time for. He had the well-being of all of Shibuya to look after, and Mr. H had the well-being of the world. Of course he understood. In the grand scheme of things, a slight breach in trust between two people was inconsequential.

But Mr. H knew Joshua better than any body else, had been the closest to the boy's heart that he had let him, had mapped out the inside of his thoughts from long years of late-night talks and private confessions that no one else had ever heard or ever would. Under a steely resolve to remain as detached as possible, sadness manifest in Joshua's eyes. Sadness that Mr. H had seen before, but never one that he himself had caused. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Yoshiya." Hearing his real name come from Mr. H made Joshua look up, unsmiling.

"It's okay to feel hurt. Even the composer of Shibuya is still human at heart – you're allowed your own personal feelings and you're allowed to be mad at me. I'm sorry. I should have been the one to tell you." For once Joshua didn't have a snarky comeback.

"…Look, I feel like it's a moot point, but I'll say it anyway - you know it would have crushed me if Minamimoto had actually hurt you?" Hanekoma continued when Joshua remained uncharacteristically silent, "I had to do my job, but it's not like I wasn't secretly hoping I'd fail." Joshua swallowed painfully, keeping his face blank though his eyes shifted uneasily around him, looking for something, any kind of leverage. He hadn't come here for this. He hadn't come here to have someone else point their finger at him.

"Of course I understand. I suppose I just didn't expect coming from you, that's all," he finally answered in a measured voice, "Of course, if the roles were reversed, you'd be more apt to expect it from me." Mr. H stared unsmiling at him, drawing his lips into a thin line as he let what Josh was really saying sink in. You care more about me than I care about you.

The older man had to take a breath and remind himself that this was exactly what Joshua loved to do to people – remove his own feelings from the equation so he could play with others.' The fact that it was Mr. H being played with this time didn't change the fact that his detachment had to be personal. Still, he was determined not to play this game.

"…Yes, I suppose I would,"he said slowly, "After all, you already did the same thing to Neku."

"Oh, but I only knew Neku for a week,"Joshua countered, violet eyes flashing dangerously though his countenance remained calm and composed, "A betrayal of that small scale is hardly worth the bragging rights, wouldn't you say?"

"I bet it didn't feel that much different. That kid had just as many friends as you did when you died,"Mr. H said calmly, "Less, even. At least you had me."

"How nice, then, that we were both able to have such trustworthy friends to look after us,"Joshua said coldly. Hanekoma stuffed his hands into his pockets to hide his clenching fists.

"That's thick, coming from the guy who shot him twice."

"Two shots saved thousands, RG and UG alike. I did what I had to."

"Funny, so did I." Again, Josh was at a loss for words. Mr. H wondered inwardly if anybody other than he had ever managed the impossible feat of striking Joshua dumb twice in one day, much less twice in ten minutes. Then again, nobody else had ever mattered to Joshua. Nobody except for Mr. H.

"…J, look, we can do this little dance all day, but we both know this isn't about Neku. But you've got to realize that what I had to do to you is exactly what you had to do to him. I get that it's me, and it's not the same. But I am sorry about it."

Joshua opened his mouth to argue with him, to put down the idea that being sorry had anything to do with it, but his words stopped in his throat when he realized an important piece of leverage the older man had against him: Joshua wasn't sorry at all.

Mr. H knew this, of course, and the pointed look the older man gave him suddenly felt aggressively accusatory.

"Well then,"he said tightly, steeling himself as he pushed past him toward the exit, "I came for an apology, and I got one. I'm satisfied." He left the kitchen before the lie had a chance to harden on his tongue. Sanae followed him out, holding his tongue until Joshua's hand was on the door.

"Joshua,"he called out, "What about Phones?" Steely cold eyes refused to meet his, but he stopped regardless, a moment of indecision caught between him and the door.

"I'll do it,"he finally said without a backwards glance, and then he was gone.