Ever since he was a boy, Sho knew he was destined for greater things. After having his life taken away, betrayed by his one and only love, Sho awoke in the UG as a Player in the Reaper's Game. Partnered with a young boy with dirty blond, sometimes silver hair, they ripped through all competition. The boy was content to go his own pace in order to return to life, it would seem. But Sho had other plans—with nothing left to look forward to in the RG, he targeted the very top—the Composer—the most sought-after position in the UG, the God of Shibuya…although every district had its Composers, Shibuya was special.
Shibuya was Sho's town.
When they had finally reached the end of the Games, after a whole week, they defeated the Game Master and approached the Composer as the winner—and both struck. He could remember the shock as the boy simply smiled and lashed out at the Composer, tearing the angelic being apart with his Shockwave pins. Sho could only watch as the mantle he had worked so hard to take had been stripped from him. He fell to his knees as the young boy spoke with Sanae Hanekoma…it would appear the man had not fancied the current Composer himself—and had invited Joshua to the UG to take care of it. Sho gritted his teeth and watched as what he had worked so hard on had been lost.
Joshua smiled. "What will you do now, partner?"
Sho was weakened by the fight earlier. He squeezed his fists until the knuckles popped and appeared as white as bone on the tips, undergoing immense strain. His hands clenched around the two pins he was using—the Lovely Beam and a Blink Step. I can turn invisible, get around behind him, and launch a volley at his flank, Sho thought, his eyes narrowing at Sanae. His arms relaxed and his eyes closed, focusing his Imagination to the Invisibility pin. His body started to shimmer, like a heat wave, weaving up into the atmosphere—
—and solidified. His eyes snapped open. No. He smiled wickedly and looked up at his dear partner, the cruelest grin upon his face.
"I want to be…a Reaper…"
His voice echoed around the tunnels in the Shibuya River, his form moving slowly, towering over everything else. Ever since his perfected Sigil of Taboo Noise, he had reformed himself, his essence, in physical form, resulting in superior modifications. His Imagination flowed without restraint, his physical prowess was unmatched, he stood at seven feet tall and he could withstand any pin's attack. His eyes closed as he focused his energies and lashed out at the barrier before him, sending out a dark stream of energy that clawed the edges and tore it apart with a god-awful screeching sound that ripped through the cavern.
When it was cleared, he stepped forward. Nothing can get in my way.
And froze.
Sitting atop his priceless work of art, the monument to his greatness, the very symbol of his future power as the Composer of Shibuya…sat the Composer of Shibuya, clad in dark jeans and a button-down shirt, not even bothering to look in his direction, his eyes cast skyward, to the roof of the tunnel. His eyes were full of sorrow, but a smile crossed his face as he turned to face Sho.
"That's impossible!" Sho spat. "My lv. i Flare…it should have taken you down! Or at least weakened you!"
Joshua chuckled at the thought and pushed off the pile of priceless work, floating gracefully to the floor of the tunnel and approached Sho, pretentiously pushing locks of hair and tucking them behind his ear. "It never even hit me." He said, his whiny, bratty little voice echoing around.
"WHAT!?" Sho demanded, crouching like a tiger while black-and-white, Taboo fires erupted around him in six pillars, rotating endlessly, weaving a strand of fiery fabric that became a rope—like a gallows rope. He grabbed the strand and slammed it against the floor, where black-and-white tendrils of electricity exploded from it in every direction, zapping the moisture from the walls and frying the sporadic moss on the walls—lighting small fires.
As the light danced on his face, the boy shrugged and looked disinterested. "I left…I went to a different world." His eyes had a distant, vacant look. His hand fiddled around his pocket, twirling an angle feather between his fingers. Then he looked up. "It was a very different world…you were a very different person…I think you would have enjoyed seeing it, Sho Minamimoto."
"SHUT UP!" Sho roared, lashing out with the rope, where it snapped against the wall where Joshua was, erupting in a brilliant flash of white light.
Joshua crossed his arms, standing behind Sho now, facing away from him.
"I can't die." Joshua said sadly, as if it were a bad thing.
"This time you'll STAY DEAD!" With the last two syllables, his whip cracked against the walls, aiming at Joshua before he disappeared and reappeared elsewhere. His breathing became irregular, huffing and puffing to stay upright as he slouched over and his whip slithered along the ground on its own accord.
"Sorry, Sho…" Joshua started, levitating into the air. "But that's not in the schedule."
With that, Joshua lashed out, firing a beam of holy light that shot forward and slammed through Sho's body, curling him around it and pushing him back. It threw him back in a flash and slammed him against his own monument to greatness. It continued pushing, causing crunching noises within the pile until, at last, it curled over and fell on top of him. How ironic…to be crushed by the symbol of his uprising. Joshua let a sad, fake smile crease his face before he leant down by the body and drew a symbol with his index finger on the face of an old dishwasher that stuck out in his pile.
He walked away, and never looked back.
It wasn't the last time the world would see of Sho Minamimoto, youngest Game Master in the history of the Reapers…and future Composer of Shibuya…maybe.
I…can't…just fade, now can I?
The young man opened his eyes to find his view flipped, lying on his side, seeing the neon signs before him, flickering with intensity, and pushed himself to his feet, popping up from his prone position. He slumped immediately after, and found that everything looked…well, taller. Looking down, he found his coat, wholesome and well, his tattoo on his arm in the same place…his pants were fine…well, actually, they were just as bad as always.
He sighed with recognition. "Why don't you just take everything, hectopascal?"
He had been stripped of his Taboo powers. He was little more than a dead man in a strange district. He shrugged and walked up the stairs to his right, perching himself on the edge of a marble top outlining the stairs. You would have liked it, Sho Minamimoto.
Smiling to nobody but himself, Sho's eyes wandered over the surface of the poster before him.
Tin Pin Slammer!
"You here for the match?" A boy with a girlish voice asked.
Sho smile brightened as he turned to his partner.
"Soa-cah-toa." He said, nodding the brim of his hat with an appreciative whistle.
The boy just giggled.