Author:D. Gelyn

Rating: Light M

Characters:
JoshuaXNeku and mentions of AxelXRoxas

Warnings: Possible spoilers for The World Ends with You in this fic. Also, Mild, non-explicit Yaoi (the rating is more to be safe). Don't like guy on guy love/angst? Then don't read, because I don't want to hear any complaints. You have been warned.

Disclaimer:I wish I owned The World Ends With You, and more specifically Joshua, but I can't seem to talk Square Enix into handing over the rights. There are a few scattered direct quotes from the game in here, and obviously I don't own those either.

Summary:Trust is a brittle bond, easily forged and broken. Neku understands this all too well, with unhealed wounds to his mind and heart leaving him even more sullen and cynical than before. Joshua's betrayal is not something Neku is ever likely to forget, but can he at least learn to forgive?

AN: This fic is set in Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance; however it is slightly AU, because Neku has already completed the Reaper's Game. I wasn't exactly sure where to upload this, since it's based in the KH world during the present but a large portion is in the TWEWY-verse. However, because it does require a large understanding of the TWEWY backstory, I decided to leave it here and hope no one yells at me. JoshuaxNeku is my OTP and it concerns me how little love this pairing gets, I'm still praying it will become more popular because of Kingdom Hearts DDD. Anyways, enough with my ramblings, enjoy!

Important note:

Bold means flashbacks (AKA Shibuya/ TWEWY-verse).

Plain type is the present (KH DDD).

Italics are thoughts.

Page breaks designate time change.


Beneath the Skin


"You trust me, right Neku?" My fair-haired companion asked teasingly, his fingers sliding against scratched metal hidden beneath peeling green paint. With practiced ease, and a bare twitch of his skilled fingertips, Joshua unlocked the car door, immediately finding the handle and tugging on it, rusted hinges creaking as the door swung outward.

I glanced around guiltily, praying that no one would notice two teenage boys breaking into an ancient forest green automobile. But the motion was only out of habit, and seconds later, I glumly recalled that no one could actually see us - well me, at least.

My worries were unfounded anyways, for out of the few passersby, not a single one turned to glance in Joshua's direction.

"What are you doing?" I asked, crossing my arms over my scrawny chest and glaring in annoyance, although I couldn't resist peering over Joshua's shoulder to watch what he was doing.
The ashen-haired boy had slipped easily and comfortably into the driver's seat, his long legs extended leisurely beneath the dashboard.

Joshua glanced up at my question, grinning slyly before ducking down to fiddle with the control panel.

Unable to restrain my interest in his actions, I crept closer in time to see him spin the volume dial all the way to the right.

"You do know what you're doing is illegal, correct?" I asked, not particularly caring about the legality of his activities, just wondering if Joshua actually possessed any moral values that would be struck by my words.

The pale-haired boy's carefree shrug answered my question clearly enough, and I frowned at my unethical partner.

"Oh stop, Neku. You're going to burn holes in the back of my skull with that glare of yours," Joshua remarked as he slid casually over the threshold of the car, his sneakered feet returning gracefully to the asphalt of the dingy street as he pulled himself up to full height and straightened his rumpled button down. I watched in increasing irritation as he swiftly popped the lock back into place. His motions were deft - too perfect. My brow creased, and my frown turned skeptical as I wondered how often Joshua took advantage of others through the use of his extraordinary abilities.

"Don't look so guilty, this is hilarious. Especially when you can get away with it this easily." He patted my shoulder cheerfully.

I glowered at his fingers, silently daring him to touch me again. "So. What do we do now?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too attentive.

"We wait," Joshua said, and I only barely managed to dodge him when he reached to clasp my upper arm once more. I followed Joshua, who walked along the concrete with so much spring in his step he may as well have been skipping. I attempted to be nonchalant when I joined him, leaving a safe gap between our strides and trying to pretend I had other places I could be.

But of course it was all a fruitless ruse, for tailing Joshua was at that moment the most interesting possible activity ; the only one really, unless I wanted to stumble into WildKat Café and have what would most likely be a one-sided discussion with its owner. Not to mention that Joshua was one of the few beings that actually knew I existed and could see me, and therefore the only person around with whom I could carry on a decent conversation. Well, when I chose to speak.

About half a block down the street, Joshua paused, seeming to consider the ground before him, which to me looked no different than the stretch of concrete just behind us. Joshua, however apparently deemed that certain plot of solidified cement fitting and stooped beside a dull gray, hideously dented car parked haphazardly against the sidewalk. I crouched next to him, once again out of routine reflex.

Joshua gave me a double thumbs up and turned to gaze intently at the dark green car he had occupied moments before. Responding merely with an exasperated sigh and a roll of my eyes, I tucked my knees beneath my chin and folded my arms around my calves.

And we waited.

Just a Joshua said we would.

We kneeled behind the parked car for so long that my legs began to go numb, a pins and needles sensation spreading through the limbs. Reminding myself once more that I was invisible to the passersby, I stretched my legs out in front of me, shaking them slightly to get my blood flowing again.

Joshua did not move, even as I twitched and twisted in agitated discomfort beside him.

I watched in mild awe, as he appeared to be frozen to the spot, hardly breathing and rarely blinking, his violet eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Josh..." he glanced up at the sound of his name, the spell broken.

"The person who owns that car might not be coming back anytime soon. That is who we are waiting for right?"

Joshua's violet eyes seemed to analyze me for a moment, considering. "It's not like we have anything better to do," he said, turning back to the car.

And he was right, of course.

So we waited, for some slim entertainment in our arduous day.

Being dead was rather boring, I had found.

Finally, after what must have been an hour, possibly longer, a short round man with a large, matted beard but little hair decorating his scalp stepped out of one of the many identical buildings lining the street.

Joshua breathed beside me. "That's him," he said with barely contained glee.

I glanced his way, surprised, and about to ask how Joshua new this with such certainty.

I was interrupted, however, as the man who had indeed made his way towards the green vehicle unlocked his car door, slid into the front seat, and turned his key in the ignition.

The blast of unhindered sound resonated loudly and clearly through the city street, seeming to ricochet off the glass panes of towering business complexes and the wooden panels of half-demolished older structures. The ear-splitting cacophony reached me without interference, nearly vibrating the concrete beneath my feet. I could only imagine how loud it must have been from within – or even near- the vehicle.

The man's expression was one of utter shock, and his first instinct after yanking on the volume dial and ceasing the disturbance, was to leap out of the car as if his seat was suddenly comprised of burning coals or frayed electric wires. His large hands fanned a gradually reddening face as he looked about, flustered and furious.

Beside me, Joshua had fallen onto his back, choking on his laughter. His fair hair spread out across the pavement in careless curls, his shoulders shuddering with the strength of the mirth that racked his small frame. I could see tears forming in his unguarded eyes, and even as the laughter gave way to soft giggles and hiccupping, Joshua's limbs quivered.

I found myself grinning down at him, letting out a short laugh of my own, more amused and startled by his reaction than the balding man's misfortune.

Joshua froze when he heard my sharp chuckle, his eyes wide with astonishment as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He pointed at me accusingly. "You laughed," he said carefully, as though he hardly believed his own words.

Although I struggled not to, I was still grinning madly at him as I nodded.

A soft smile graced Joshua's lips, brightening his eyes. I was surprised by the twinge of sadness I felt at his expression, knowing that regardless of all the lighthearted grins Joshua had sent my way, this was the first time I could remember recognizing real happiness igniting in the lilac depths.

I wanted more than anything to see that smile again- the honest, untouched joy.


Vibrant orange hair lifted away from my bare shoulders, caught in a momentary breath of warm air as my gaze drifted skyward. A shock of blue was revealed from behind dark lashes as my eyes widened in surprise before, with a shake of my head they were hastily concealed by vermillion fringe.

"Joshua." I said simply, the name a monotone whisper against my lips. I watched silently, making sure my high collar hid any possible betrayal of emotion, as a slender figure gradually descended from above, ethereal wings outstretched behind slim shoulders.

Joshua laughed softly as he touched the ground, his sneakered feet soundless as they came in contact with compacted pavement. The fair-haired boy's movements were smooth and utterly faultless, a practiced landing as graceful as his figure.

White feathers rustled softly as Joshua's wings shifted, and he folded them gently against his back, tucking the snowy plumage delicately between his shoulder blades. He shivered slightly despite the warm air as a light breeze brushed against his bare back, causing the tattered remains of his pale blue button down to tickle his spine.

He faced me, amethyst eyes shining with some secret humor. "Neku." he said, a teasing but cautious smile toying at the corners of his lips. Ashen gray-blonde hair twirled in sculpted madness about his face as he watched me, the smile softening into something almost gentle. "It's been too long."

I scoffed, turning from him, uncomfortable with the knowing smile directed my way.

You think you know me…

At my reaction, Joshua's smile widened into a grin. "You should have known that even time and space cannot contain me. Why are you so surprised?"

and maybe you do...

I glanced at him, shifting slightly and crossing my thin arms over my chest, considering the other boy. I knew it would be a wasted effort attempting to convince Joshua that I was not startled by his appearance in the least. He understood me too well to be swayed by such blatant lies. I sighed, uncrossing my arms. "I didn't realize you would be able to go between these-" I frowned slightly, and for lack of a better word continued, "parallel worlds, or whatever so easily."

"That was quite a mouthful for you, Neku!" Joshua quipped, and he twisted a strand of unruly pale hair between his thumb and forefinger idly. "But in all seriousness," the winged boy said, although he did not lose the playful smirk curling his frost pink lips.

But it was a smile that did not meet his eyes, so false it made me sick.

"I'm not entirely sure how I'm able to cross this border, even with Rhyme's aid," he concluded.

I nodded, a bare incline of my head, orange spikes swaying. "And Shiki?" I spoke my partner's name softly, knowing that Joshua would understand the unasked question.

The smirk vanished from Joshua's lips entirely, his wings twitching almost imperceptibly against his exposed back. "She's fine," he said, and his pale violet eyes shifted for the first time away from me. "She's looking for you. All of your friends are."

I nodded again, giving a halfhearted "Mmm" in acknowledgment. My hands were shaking.

... but I'll never admit it.

Without sparing Joshua a second glance, I stuffed my fists deep into the pockets of my shorts and walked towards the nearest wall. I prepared to spring into flow motion and head towards the Fourth District in the hopes of perhaps coming across a traveling moogle who might carry pertinent news regarding my own world. I considered briefly going to the Fountain Plaza instead, facing the wall-Cat's colossal masterpiece- where I was killed. Sadly, the place which would seem so morbid-being the location of one's own death- was actually one of the few places I could think clearly, and sort through the mess my memories had become. More than anything else though, I yearned to escape the confines of Joshua's gaze, which scalded my flesh like boiling water, surely leaving behind scars deeper than any before.

"Neku." I could almost feel my name, whispered so gently, instead of hearing it. Soft, pleasant, and slightly feminine, Joshua's voice wrapped around me and halted my steps.

I longed to sink into that comforting familiarity, but I did not turn. I couldn't. I knew what I would see. I could feel those eyes, that beautiful violet gaze, scorching across my back, making my skin burn. My hands shook uncontrollably.

"No." I said, not waiting for Joshua to speak. I needed to leave, my mind begged my legs to move, run, as far as I could, but some force more powerful stayed me.

Joshua laughed, although it was mirthless, almost sad.

I could hear him approaching, and I wanted more than anything to slide away, into the dank alleys of Traverse Town, but I could not move. I was powerless beneath his gaze, as I always had been.

I jumped when his long fingers brushed my shoulder lightly, even though I had been expecting it. I flinched away from his touch, although I knew it was too late. From his silence I was certain Joshua had felt my shoulders trembling when his cold skin had pressed cautiously against my flesh.

Without any further warning, thin arms wrapped around my waist, slender fingers clutching the front of my sleeveless shirt. Joshua buried his face between my shoulder blades and clung to me like a frightened child seeking consolation, pressing against my back.

I let out a shuddering breath.

It was impossible for me not to notice at that moment- the way our bodies molded seamlessly against each other, just as they always had- some mocking perfection in our terribly flawed lives.

Memories better left untouched began to stir; and smothered longings surfaced, bringing with them barely stifled agony.

I could feel him breathing, steady and calm, absolutely composed as always, even when my heart was pounding harshly within my chest.

My hands remained in my pockets, quivering pathetically.

"Neku..." he whispered again, and this time I truly could feel his words as his lips moved against the top of my spine, sending shivers coursing down the length of my body.

I glanced down, my expression and stance utterly calm, merely betrayed by the beating of my heart and the trembling of my fingers. I noticed that his arms almost appeared breakable they were so thin- thinner than they had been before- and I wondered if, like me, Joshua had trouble eating, choking down sustenance past guilt and heartache. Then I wondered absently whether or not inhuman beings like him even needed to eat.

I looked at his hands, studying the slender digits buried in the yielding fabric of my shirt. They were beautiful hands. The fingers porcelain and long, appearing even paler in the dim yellow glow of the street lights. The hands were slim and small but unmistakably strong, lacking feminine delicacy and were indubitably masculine. I remembered all too well, how forceful those hands could be.

After a moment's hesitation, I removed my clenched fists from my pockets and grasped his hands with mine, tugging gently.

Joshua tensed against my back, his fingers curling more adamantly into pliant cloth, refusing to be pried away.

"Neku.. "

I had never heard Joshua sound so close to begging, and out of surprise, or perhaps wonder I ceased my incessant pulling at his unyielding grip and allowed my fingers to rest, for the moment, peacefully atop his.

Joshua sighed. He almost sounded relieved.

"I know you are uncertain and upset… maybe even afraid."

I scoffed bitterly.

Joshua ignored me and began to lightly stroke my chest, directly over my convulsing heart which contracted in painful spasms at his touch. I hastily clamped my own fingers down, preventing his movements. He laughed - that same exhausted, lifeless laugh.

"I know you aren't sure how to feel- how to react- but Neku, this is a new place- a new world entirely, and we can start over. You can learn to trust me again-"

For the first time that night I laughed. But it was a cold, almost painful laugh, stinging my lungs and searing my throat. A sardonic grin split my lips for a moment.

"Trust your partner, right?" I whispered, venomous sarcasm dripping from each syllable. My fingernails dug into the backs of Joshua's hands, and I hoped he would get the hint and let go. Before I lost control completely...

Joshua did not heed the unspoken warning however, and instead he wrapped his arms around me tighter, resolutely fisting the cloth of my shirt and ignoring the grooves forming on the backs of his hands where I mercilessly clawed him.

"Everything is different here..." he said.

Anger boiled in my blood, overflowing and writhing in my veins.

I ripped Joshua's fingers from me, shoving him hard.

And although he took a few steps back, he did not even stumble, balanced by unearthly grace as always.

"What's different?!" I spat, not caring for the moment that my high collar had slumped, revealing the hurt and the anger in my eyes. My emotions reigned freely over my actions for the time being. But I had no words- no strength to express the immensity of the gut-wrenching pain he had caused, the simmering betrayal I felt.

Joshua watched me silently, for once the expressionless one.

My fingers quivered with suppressed rage.

"Nothing has changed. Even here. Look at your back. Do you need further proof?" I motioned to the shreds of light blue material that hung in limp scraps around the gaping hole in the reverse side of his button down from where his magnificent wings had burst forth. The feathered appendages themselves rustled slightly, beautiful white plumage shifting with each draft.

"You are still you."

Joshua watched me in passive silence. His eyes encompassed everything, glimmering sorrowfully in the evening light and threatening to drown me completely.

"And you know what else?" I said softly, my voice barely more than a mumble, the flare of rage fading as rapidly as it had come. "That awful place. Cat's wall of graffiti - where you-..." I faltered slightly, not wanting the recollections of my death to return. The swirls of paint were forever ingrained in my memory- the location where Joshua, with a smile curling his delicate lips, had lifted his gun to my temple and blown my life away. We both knew what had happened there, and so I continued, leaving the obvious unsaid. "It's here; it became a part of this new world."

Joshua's brows momentarily curved downward, whether in anger or despair, I could not say.

"So you see, you can't escape what you've done. It followed you here, Joshua, and nothing truly has changed. You lied, and lies don't just disappear."

I looked down at the pavement, watching my shadow flicker with the ancient street lights.

Joshua stepped forward, his shadow joining mine, melding until they became one darkness.

I eyed him warily.

"As much as you sometimes hate yourself Neku, you'll never be able to hate me." His eyes were sad.

My heart flared. "I can," I said, malice seeping back into my lungs, overpowering my senses. "You hurt all of them. Everyone in your stupid Reaper's Game…You- you hurt..."

The unspoken "me" hung in the air, understood by both parties.

I began again after bringing my emotions back under control, struggling to breathe calmly and still my heart through the intensity of my rage. I shrugged my shoulders, forcing my collar back into place, hunching below the protective layer. "Pain, betrayal...memories like that never fade," I said, somewhat muffled by the cloth concealing my lips.

A flash of emotion crossed Joshua's normally cheerful face, twisting his expression. Pain. I saw undeniable suffering in his eyes, mirroring my own. But only for a mere second, and then it was gone. Like ripples on the water's surface, his eyes were once more placid and withdrawn.

"But in that case, other strong emotions should remain as well. No matter how hard you try to stamp them out, you cannot exile them completely. Some things run deeper than even anger and hate."

His gaze bore into mine, ocean blue and lilac meeting and clashing, reviving long buried feelings and memories.

I remembered it all, just as he surely did: the longing, the embrace, and always those gleaming amethyst eyes watching.

But I couldn't stay- not when his eyes searched for something beneath the surface, yearning for a connection deeper than skin. That was dangerous.

I turned without another word, kicking off the wall before me and sliding through the air. I left Joshua standing there alone, his arms folded over his chest, wings shifting ever so softly in the evening breeze.


His hair shone in otherworldly perfection beneath the bright city lights, soft strands lifting and twining, almost seeming to form a halo about his head. Unreadable violet eyes glowed with joy, lit from within by some never ending cheer. A gentle smile turned the corners of his undoubtedly soft pale pink lips upwards. His hands reached high above his head, long fingers spread wide as he balanced on his toes atop a plastic park bench.

I watched in silence.

His lips moved- forming words, carefully calculated sentences, probably taunting or teasing, but I did not hear.

As he stretched his fingers towards the dusky sky, his un-tucked button down rose above his navel, allowing a bare glimpse of pale, flawless skin. His stomach was smooth- like a girl's, but his hips were small, unquestionably male.

His thighs strained as he pushed himself farther up on his toes, not for a moment wavering.

I watched, intrigued.

He was still speaking, his lithe body stretched, exposed, his back arching and phthalo blue shirt sliding tantalizingly across his flesh, creasing with every motion. His hands moved suddenly, resting flat against the base of his neck, before slowly rising upwards, slender fingers knotting in loose waves, gathering the pale strands until he had pulled the ends completely away from his shoulders. He twisted these curls together, almost as if to tie them up, away from his face, but he let them fall back against his pale throat.

He looked at me, lips moist and parted as he laughed, violet eyes surrounded on all sides by thick, dark lashes, and stunning features framed by the palest flaxen hair.

I could not move for fear of losing what little control I possessed and reaching out to touch the untouchable. I could not speak, no air remaining in my lungs. And I could not pull my eyes away from my undeniably beautiful friend, lit from behind by a hundred city street lights.

I only watched, longing to do so much more.

He spoke, and this time I listened. The words rose eerily above the sound of a bustling city, ringing in my ears, rolling through my lungs, and seeming to suffocate my entire being.

"It's fun Neku! Come on, don't you trust me?!"

Small hands reached for me, fingers outstretched and pleading. Violet eyes hopeful and lonely, begging me silently to fill the void.

I nodded slowly and stood, joining him on the rickety park bench.


His lips were soft, a gentle whisper against my own. My eyes fluttered shut, taken by surprise, and I reached out for him, my arms wrapping around his neck.

A quiet clicking noise startled me out of the embrace, and I glanced up.

Joshua held his slim orange cellphone an arm's length away, smirking at it triumphantly.

I felt color spread to my cheeks when I realized the shutter sound had been the camera on the metallic orange device.

"Finally! A picture of us!" Joshua squealed gleefully, waving the phone beneath my nose. "You're always dodging my attempts to take photos of you, but this time I managed a distraction," he said with a wink. "Trust me; I'm never deleting this one."

I looked at the picture on the small rectangular screen, my face growing warmer upon seeing my lips in mid-motion against Joshua's, arms around his neck and fingers fisting shining strands of pale hair.

I opened my mouth to speak, to tell Joshua to delete the picture, but I was silenced by the happiness in his violet eyes. He gazed at me with an unspoken fondness, a desperation and need that were so strong I could almost feel them crackle in the air around us.

"Whatever," I said, glancing at the ground momentarily, attempting to rein in my blush. I looked up at Joshua again, hoping my voice would not waver. "Kiss me again."

With a gentle smile on his lips, Joshua tucked his phone into his back pocket and closed the distance between us.


I stumbled on landing, caught up in my own thoughts. My feet slipped on the balcony's railing, and I slid downward onto the wooden surface, knees jarring on impact. Groaning, I reached for something to help stabilize myself, fumbling fingers finding the smooth ridge of a metal table. I gripped the edge harshly, fingernails seeking purchase, and I leaned forward, cursing severely as my thighs collided painfully with the solid surface.

I remained motionless for some time, allowing my breaths to grow steady, my feet to regain balance, and the dull throbbing in my knees and thighs to fade. I straightened slowly, fingers still clenched around the table's rim, my knuckles white.

Swaying slightly, I pushed away from the cold round tabletop, blue eyes drawn to the sliding glass door before me. Senseless, almost numb, I stepped toward the translucent surface, watching in dim fascination as the indistinct image in the glass moved as well. Raising a tentative hand to my face, I tugged down the loose collar, gazing at my faint reflection.

My skin was pale, deathly so, and normally vivid orange strands hung limp and dull across my forehead, dangling into narrowed blue eyes. I leaned forward and peered intently at my own face, hoping the light outline would become clearer.

I pulled back almost instantly, stunned. When had my eyes become soft, and so despondently sad? Worse still, I could see fear shimmering in the lackluster ocean depths, and dark half circles had formed beneath.

I was weak with fatigue; my shoulders sagged at the realization- never before had I felt so exhausted, so utterly spent.

I watched as the small circle of fog created by my breath gradually faded from the glass, once more leaving a flawless truth staring back at me with lifeless cobalt eyes.

There was a short rustling of crisp lilac curtains beyond the polished surface, followed by the sound of a glass door sliding against its metal tracks, and suddenly my haggard reflection was replaced by the slight form of an eager, brown haired teenager. Blue eyes, startlingly similar to my own, gazed up at me concernedly. My eyes had once been that bright, I realized, and I trembled softly in despair. When did I lose that light?

The brunet approached me cautiously, glancing around the dimly lit balcony, fingers twitching slightly at his side, yearning for the familiar weight of his blade. Sapphire eyes swept over the wooden structure, taking in the jostled table before returning to gaze at me blearily once more.

"Sorry," I said softly.

The boy's shoulders snapped back as he straightened swiftly, looking particularly ridiculous, standing at attention in his oversized pajamas. "For what?! You've done nothing wrong, have you?"

The keyblade wielder once again glanced across the hotel balcony, as if surveying the surroundings for any sign of disturbance.

"I woke you," I muttered, shifting so that my collar concealed my mouth and nose beneath a medley of purple, blue, and yellow cotton. Tilting my head, I felt the customary guard of jagged orange hair slide once more into place, hiding my eyes behind brightly colored fringe.

Sora's eyes widened, his hands flying out in front of him, as if to ward off an attack. "No, no, don't worry about that! I heard a noise, are you alright?"

I nodded. "I slipped."

Sora's eyes flickered slightly, skepticism burning in his cerulean gaze for a moment, before a grin split his lips, and he beamed at me, trusting and open, and ever so naive.

I nearly flinched, seeing the unwavering trust in his eyes.

If this kid knew me at all, he wouldn't have that expression- he wouldn't be able to smile like that. If he knew me, like J...

Small fingers settled gently on my bare shoulders, pulling me from my thoughts and sending me reeling backwards, away from the hands that had brushed against my wiry biceps.

The brunet jerked back as well, startled by my reaction before stammering a string of useless apologies.

"S-sorry… You just don't look so good, Neku. What's wrong?"

I stared at him blankly in response, my arms raised before me, as if to protect myself from further gentle gestures.

Sora sighed. "Well at least come inside." He pointed to the glass door at his back.

I followed him warily as he retreated into the hotel's well lit interior, jogging to keep up as he made his way down a quiet hallway and into a small bedroom. Upon entrance, he shuffled over to a pale cerise kitchenette, switching on the stove and standing on his toes to reach into one of the high cabinets to retrieve a large brass kettle.

"You look like you could use some tea," he explained with a casual shrug and a soft smile. "Have a seat." He motioned vaguely towards the wooden table set against the wall opposite to the kitchenette, stifling a yawn with his fist.

I glanced at the table wearily, and eventually the exhaustion in my limbs took control, outvoting the doubts in my mind and directing me towards the nearest chair. I slumped into the handcrafted seat, deciding it was oddly comfortable for a plain wood furniture piece.

Sora turned to watch me as I settled, his eyes warm and smile inviting.

I waited patiently, ignoring his scrutiny until the kettle behind him screeched and he poured boiling water into two ceramic mugs, adding some sparse ingredients I could not for the life of me have identified. He joined me at the table after grabbing the two steaming cups, sitting beside me in companionable silence.

I lifted the cup of tea that had been placed before me, sniffing curiously before succumbing to the enticing scent of berries and placing the mug against my lips. Ignoring the scalding hot water, I gulped quickly, draining half the teacup in a few sips and setting the ceramic back on the wooden table top, contentedly licking away the lingering taste of fresh berries coating my lips.

Sora watched in silence, one eyebrow quirked slightly.

Noticing his expectant expression, I stumbled clumsily into conversation. "Ummm... So are you staying here by yourself?"

The brunet eyed me incredulously, before giggling into his tea. "Nah, I'm hanging out with a couple dream eaters."

I flushed slightly; of course, Traverse Town was nearly empty besides the occasional enemy or traveling moogle.

I glanced around the room, which was a deep mixture of dark red and mahoganies. "I didn't even realize this hotel was in business," I muttered.

"Oh, it's not," Sora said smugly, "but I remembered it from my last visit and figured I might as well take advantage of a clean bed and a shower while I'm here."

Now it was my turn to glance at the other boy questioningly, orange eyebrows rising towards angled vermilion bangs. "Last visit?" I asked.

Sora, who seemed not to have noticed his slip of tongue suddenly spluttered, droplets of tea spraying in all directions. Guiltily, the boy raised a hand to his brunet spikes, running a hand through them shortly. "Er...yeah" he mumbled.

There was a momentary pause before his eyes suddenly brightened and flicked back to meet mine. "What's on your mind? Tell me, and maybe I'll let you in on a couple secrets of my own." He grinned at me challengingly, not expecting me to take the bait.

I relaxed into my chair. It seemed Sora and I had reached a mutual understanding, that both of us had things to hide, possibly an ugly past we wished not to bring into the light. But knowledge of history was not needed, not in the comfortable hotel room, seated at a rickety wooden table across from a humble kitchenette. Not for the two of us, strangers but friends in our own fashion.

Sora... Sora was my friend. I could trust him ...right? That's the bond friends have... trust.

"Can I ask you something? I mean, you don't have to answer if it's too personal. Like you said, you don't need to let me in on any secrets…" I intoned abruptly, surprising even myself.

Sora looked startled, but he nodded regardless, appearing almost relieved. "Nah, I was just messing with you. I don't have any deep dark secrets," he said, but from the way he glanced at the scarlet carpet, when usually his eyes remained intently locked on mine, I could tell he wasn't being entirely honest. But Sora – he wouldn't consciously lie either. So when his gaze met mine determinedly, and he followed up with "Yeah, ask me anything," I took him at his word.

"Have you ever been afraid?" I whispered in a single breath. But no- that wasn't quite right. I fought to give shape to my thoughts. It was hard, for even though I had gained treasured friends and through them some limited access to the human psyche, it was still difficult for me to understand others, and express myself fittingly. But I tried. "N-not just afraid though... Have you ever felt fear, so potent that your entire body aches and your mind shuts down?"

The brunet's smile faltered, before slipping completely from his lips. He gazed at me grimly, fingers twined around his mug of tea, the smoke spiraling in front of his blue eyes. He nodded after a moment's consideration. "Yeah, too many times," he said, voice hushed, lacking its customary merriment.

I nodded, nervously swallowing another sip of tea before continuing.

"Have you ever had a friend...or friends, I suppose… People you trusted with everything, maybe even your life, and then they betrayed you?"

Sora was frowning now, blue eyes somewhat narrowed, brows curved slightly in sadness as he recalled some distant memory. "Yes," he said softly.

I blinked in astonishment. "Really? H-how did everything turn out?"

The light returned to Sora's eyes instantly, a smile once more gracing his lips as he lifted his chin to meet my stunned gaze. "He is right back where he's supposed to be."

"Where?" I asked.

"By my side, as my best friend just as he was before, just like he always will be."

I couldn't contain my surprise, leaning forward and nearly knocking my ceramic mug to the floor. "W-what!? How could you forgive someone for betraying your trust?"

Sora breathed out slowly. "If you care about someone enough- if you truly care, and they return those feelings, I suppose there is really nothing they can do to turn you away. No matter how much hurt my friend Riku may have put me through, I know I would gladly face all my battles again to bring him home, to keep him tied to me. And anyways- he more than redeemed himself."

"But how do you know he's really changed for the better?"

"I don't," Sora grinned ruefully. "But that's what trust is all about right? Believing in him -that he has changed, and never doubting. You have to give a little to get a little, I guess."

I nodded, although I couldn't say I understood. The brunet's words baffled me; I didn't think a bond of trust could ever be restored once it had been severed. But maybe the circumstances had been different. Sora had called this boy, Riku, his friend, best friend, and it was true that Joshua and I had been the same. But at some point... we had become so much more.

Swallowing my pride, and setting aside my anger and doubt for the moment, I gave voice to my final question. "Have you ever loved someone?"

There it was- that hated word- a bond that was so much more than raw desire, and even deeper than simple trust, tangling beneath the skin.

Sora was grinning at me, a dreamy look in his eyes when I chanced a glance in his direction from behind choppy orange strands. "Of course," he said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, sun-kissed skin shining a pale bronze in the soft light streaming in from the kitchenette. I found myself absentmindedly comparing thus presented skin with the distant but distinct memory of bared alabaster flesh, immediately ending that train of thought when I realized, much to my chagrin that I greatly preferred the latter.

"There's Riku, Kairi, my friends back home on the island, and my parents..." Sora was saying, catching my attention once more.

I shook my head slightly, creating a whirlwind of dusky orange spikes. I gathered myself, hating that I was being forced to specify. "I meant... Well, have you- not just loved but been in love," I said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Sora's lips formed a perfect "o", and his wide-eyed expression might have been comical if I hadn't been so downright serious. As it was, I had to keep a slight blush from creeping into my cheeks as Sora gazed at me questioningly for a brief moment before responding.

"...No," he said, but then he seemed to consider for a minute. "Not really..."

I quirked a single orange brow, "not really?"

The brunet shifted uncomfortably in his seat, tugging at the sleeves of his loose-fitting sleepwear. "Well, I mean it's all kind of confusing to me too...having vague memories and emotions that aren't really my own."

My other eyebrow shot upwards towards my hairline, joining the first as my head tilted inquiringly.

Sora crossed and uncrossed his legs in quick succession before seeming to decide that crossed was more comfortable, leaving his right foot balanced atop his left ankle. He leaned forward slightly, cerulean eyes meeting my own set of ocean blues.

"I'll let you in a bit, Neku. You see, there is another part of me. I guess you could say another part of my heart, my soul, whatever. He- his name is Roxas, and I think that at one point he loved someone."

I attempted to soak this information in, brows furrowed in concentration. "So you're saying you retained some of this emotion."

Sora let out a soft whine of frustration. "Yeah. Like, I know how love feels even though I myself have never been in love. But Roxas, I think he- no, I'm certain he once loved. I watched Roxas's best friend die in front of my eyes- there was nothing I could do to save him."

Sora stopped for a moment, and his eyes closed. I heard how harsh his breaths had become, and unsure of myself, could do no more than watch as Sora wrestled with his memories.

When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible, and he choked on every other word. "I could feel Roxas's heart breaking inside of me, Neku. I could almost hear him screaming... crying. I could feel his pain like it was my own- it was my own I suppose." Sora opened his eyes, but they were distant, lost in another time. "And I cried... I didn't understand why. Tears just poured down my face and wouldn't stop... It was him, and he was in love, and it was beautiful, warm, but it hurt. He was in so much pain…"

I needed Sora to stop talking. His words were beginning to feel too familiar, hitting too close to home. I reached across the table, gripping his shoulders.

"It's okay," I muttered, patting his arm and doing my best to mimic the way I had seen others console their friends.

"It isn't," Sora said glumly, reclining in his seat. "Axel died saving me... though I guess it was really Roxas he was protecting- not me...and as for Roxas, well he's trapped in here," Sora tapped his chest with his index finger sharply. "He's still alive, I suppose," Sora continued, eyes blank. "Sometimes I dream about Axel, and some girl with dark hair. I'm certain those are his memories. And like I said before, I have the distant sensation of him, like he's hovering at the corner of my mind. I feel his emotions sometimes, but they're diluted. They've never directly affected me except for when Axel died."

I wasn't sure what to say as Sora finished his story and our conversation dwindled into silence. I truly regretted asking my questions, and I wished wholeheartedly that Sora had never told me about this Roxas boy. As if I needed to feel any more depressed.

Sora suddenly stood, rounding the table until he was directly before me. His eyes were once again light, breathtakingly innocent.

He stared at me before chancing a sad half smile. "I don't know why you're asking these questions, Neku. And I promise I won't pry into your business unless you ask me for help. Just know this, in all of my dreams... about Axel and Roxas, they were smiling. There was so much trust, so much happiness, and that's got to count for something while it lasts don't you think? Maybe it was worth whatever suffering. You know what they say: "it's better to have loved and lost..."

than to have never loved at all. I nodded brusquely, trying to ignore the unbearable clenching in my chest.

Sora and I finished our now cold tea over senseless chatter (mostly on his part); then the brunet collected dishes and hospitably offered me the spare bed in the room next door to his.

"You look dead on your feet, you need rest," was his only explanation as he unlocked the adjoining bedroom, which was comprised of multiple odd shades of blue.

I only nodded in thanks as Sora wandered back to his own room, not bothering to undress or even remove my shoes before falling onto the soft mattress.

I guess he was right about one thing was my last thought before consciousness slipped away, and I fell contentedly into awaiting darkness.


My fingernails scrabbled against Joshua's back, searching for a firm surface to hold. I was shredding soft skin beneath the light blue shirt, but the pale-haired boy never flinched.

He only pulled me closer, whispering gentle encouragement in my ear. "That's right, Neku, hold onto me. I'll never leave, hold me."

And I did, I held him like my life depended on it, clenching my teeth against the pain as he slid into my shivering body.

Joshua took every effort not to hurt me, I knew that. I could feel his entire body trembling against mine as he fought the urge to thrust his hips forward, his thighs strained and breaths shuddering.

I arched off the ground once he was fully seated within me, gasping for air, feeling as though I was suffocating gradually.

Eventually I mustered the strength to open my eyes and look up at Joshua. He had braced himself on quivering hands and knees above my writhing body. I was shocked by his expression; never had I seen him look so human, so close to losing control. The fair haired boy's calm and composed façade had fallen away entirely, and I watched as he attempted to grasp onto whatever tattered shreds remained.

Joshua's light violet eyes had darkened to nearly indigo, his eyelids dropping low, lashes casting long shadows across his pale cheekbones. His lips parted as he panted, just as out of breath as I was, it seemed. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool night air as he fought against carnal need, his flaxen hair tangled beyond repair and sticking to his damp flesh. His blue button-down hung open, pale skin glistening, black slacks unzipped and riding low on his hips.

I wound my arms around his neck, carding my fingers through feathery strands of silken pale hair. Laboriously dragging myself upwards, I pressed my lips against his gently, marveling at how soft they truly were. I pulled away to place a chaste kiss on his cheek, his jaw, and once more lightly on his lips.

I smiled.

I only ever smiled for him.

Rolling my hips, I asked silently for him to proceed.

Joshua's breath caught as he was forced farther into me, but still he did not move. I quirked an eyebrow at him, barely able to contain the impulse to push against him once again.

Slowly, almost wonderingly Joshua's hands glided up over my bare torso. I watched curiously as his long fingers progressed, peering down at where the lengthy digits splayed above my heart before moving upwards once more. His smooth fingertips traced my jaw delicately, and he held my face in his hands, gazing at me with those beautiful violet eyes. The pads of his thumbs brushed over my cheeks, so carefully, as if I was fragile, and too precious to be broken.

I felt like glass within his fingers, shuddering uncontrollably beneath his gentle touch.

Indiscernible expressions flickered across his face, his eyes lit from within by countless emotions - confusion, and a tenderness I had never seen before.

I knew exactly what he felt, and I wondered if my own eyes mirrored his.

I was completely bare before him, laid out for only his eyes to see. No high collar concealed my expressions, no purple headphones flattened my vermillion hair over my blue eyes; I could not hide. I had offered myself to him wholly. Upon his acceptance, I had melted into his open hands. He sought a connection deeper and more solid than skin, and I gladly gave in.

Joshua was watching me, a soft smile on his lips, his long fingers brushing orange strands behind my ears, lingering as if he was reluctant to release me.

"Neku," Joshua whispered, his eyes suddenly downcast. "D-do you trust me?"

Never before had Joshua stumbled over a single word, and I could not have imagined ever hearing something so heartrendingly desolate and despairing. My heart was pounding as I placed my hands over his, weaving my bony fingers in between his long graceful ones. "Yes," I said, knowing that my eyes would show him the truth he sought.

Joshua's eyes lightened, and he was in motion once more. His hands moved gradually away from my face, sweeping down my chest, pausing momentarily over my heart, as if savoring each uneven pulse. Slowly he trailed lower, over the flat plain of my stomach, his fingers curling at the junction of my thighs and stroking gently. I groaned, pressing against him.

Joshua's hands slid over my thighs, pushing them apart, so that he could further slide between. Those strong hands gripped the backs of my knees, spreading my legs as he shifted.

His thumbs circled calmly on the flesh of my lower thigh as he slowly pulled out. I only had a second to feel the unexpected sting of emptiness before his hips snapped forward once more.

I could not breath; I could not think, not beneath his touch, within his grasp, his lilac eyes always filled to the brim with such kindness, showing me that a bond of trust could tie two people together eternally and extend so much further than simple friendship. Not that I truly needed to breath, to think, when I was secure in his embrace.

I clung to him, because he was all I had ever needed; I was certain. We fell together.

His eyes could never deceive me. I knew what we both felt, and I had a naïve hope that nothing would ever change.


Struggling uselessly against the damp sheets that entrapped me, I attempted to sit up straight as my stomach lurched unpleasantly. Finally fighting off the last tendril of cloth gripping my upper arm, I hoisted myself over the side of the bed, hoping I could make it to the bathroom across the hall in time.

My wishes were meaningless, as usual, and when my feet met solid ground, the nausea increased tenfold. I doubled over where I stood, my hands flying out to stabilize my fall. My abdomen convulsed painfully, and I dry heaved pathetically as my stomach attempted to reject contents it did not have.

Not thirty seconds after my knees had initially hit the floor, there was a predictable brunet pounding at my door.

"Neku?!" Sora exclaimed as he burst into the room without awaiting invitation. He crouched beside my slumped form immediately, one hand seizing my shoulder while the other wound into my orange hair and pulled the unkempt strands away from my face. "Are you ill? Did you catch something?" the boy asked, concern shining in his bright blue eyes.

I shook my head miserably, allowing the sudden sickness to fade, leaving me with nothing more than slightly weak muscles and trembling limbs. The stress, the confusion, the memories, and above all else the overwhelming sense of loss- they were becoming too much.

I glanced up at Sora once the episode had passed. Seeing his questioning gaze, I quickly turned away once more, my eyes settling on the dark blue carpet beneath my spread fingers. "Just bad dreams," I mumbled.

Sora nodded, seeming to understand my predicament, and he squeezed my shoulder in a friendly manner. "Well I hate to tell you this, but if you aren't sick, then as soon as you're presentable, you should come to my room; you have a visitor."

My stomach twisted with dread. "Who?" I bit out through gritted teeth, but I knew.

"Joshua," Sora said, grinning.

At the sound of the winged boy's name, my stomach convulsed once more. If only the mind could throw up, I thought miserably as I bent over once more. Then maybe I could get rid of these unwanted memories...

This time, it seemed my stomach had managed to scrounge up some of the previous night's berry tea just for the occasion. The acidic taste filled my mouth, running over my lips and down my chin, pooling on the once spotless carpet.

"Jeez, Neku," Sora said, and I could hear the worry in his tone. "You sure you're alright?"

I nodded hurriedly, wiping a string of bile off of my bottom lip with the back of my hand.

Sora eyed me critically for a moment, glancing at the small puddle of sick, his nose wrinkling in momentary disgust. "If that's all that managed to come out of your stomach, then when the heck was the last time you ate?"

I shrugged, hoping he would not press the matter. It had probably been three days since I last consumed any food, and that had only been for the sake of sustenance; my ribs were beginning to protrude.

"Oh this is perfect," Sora said suddenly, clapping his hands together gleefully.

I looked up at him glumly, my haggard eyes silently asking what part exactly of the morning so far could be seen as 'perfect'. From where I was sitting, in front of my own vomit, with Joshua waiting patiently in the next room, the morning seemed anything but pleasant.

"Oh don't look at me like that! This is great! I can interrogate Joshua about how Riku's doing while simultaneously feeding your anorexic ass."

I blinked, too caught off guard by Sora's sudden use of profanity for the meaning of his statement to become clear. When I realized what he was planning, my chest grew cold. "You want us to all have breakfast together," I mumbled.

Sora craned his neck to peek over my head at the clock hanging on the adjacent wall, "well lunch, but essentially yes... Holy-"

Sora was cut off as another gut wrenching spasm hit me.

By the time I got a handle on my suddenly sensitive gag reflex, Sora had managed to return the carpet to its former pristine state. He then kneeled at my side, running his small fingers through my hair in an attempt to comb down my terrible case of bedhead. Crazed orange spikes stuck up in all directions despite his efforts, and once more in control of my own shaking limbs, I pushed Sora away and climbed unsteadily to my feet. My knees threatened to give out again, but I managed to hold my ground, booted feet planted firmly on the plush carpet.

Sora reached for my arm, his little fingers gripping my elbow as he guided me towards the room's only door.

I followed, in a slight daze, unsure if I could face Joshua after the vivid dreams of the night before. Resigning myself to my fate, I slouched into the adjacent bedroom, not daring to look up as we approached the kitchenette.

I could see Joshua's petite bare feet swinging childishly beneath the dining table, scuffing the floor every now and then. His sneakers were a discarded jumble by the door.

Gradually, my eyes moved upwards, traveling up long jean-clad legs, a slender torso, flitting over an exposed collar bone and finally settling on the angelic face.

Cheerful violet eyes flashed with regret as our gazes locked, but it was nearly imperceptible, and was quickly concealed beneath layers of false laughter.

We both had our masks- our way to hide, but our eyes would always tell the truth our lips refused to speak.

"Morning, Neku," Joshua said joyfully, but I could detect the hint of caution in his tone.

After a moment of merely staring at Joshua, I grunted in response to his greeting, and harshly pulled out the chair across from him. I spun the wooden furniture piece around, swinging a leg over to straddle the seat.

Once settled, I shot Joshua a challenging glare.

If he could be calm, if he could pretend that nothing had ever happened between us, then I'd be damned if I did not do the same. I would never admit to him that I was still affected, still in agony from his betrayal, and still hopelessly longed for those feelings I could never have again.

Sora seemed not to notice the tension in the room, or if he did, he graciously ignored it. The brunet bustled about the kitchen, dishes and cutlery clattering as he prepared a meal of some sort.

Joshua and I maintained an edgy silence, Sora too close by for either of us to broach personal topics. I tried my best to avoid meeting his gaze, glancing rapidly around the room to discourage my eyes from being drawn back to the slender male sitting across from me, chin resting on intertwined fingers. After a few minutes I had run out of places to look however, and my eyes had resorted to shifting uncomfortably back and forth between an ancient armchair and a mahogany four poster bed, my fingers drumming nervously on the wooden tabletop.

"Something wrong, Neku?" Joshua asked, and my eyes immediately shot up to meet his, narrowing as I saw the teasing glint in his violet gaze, taunting smirk curling his pale pink lips. He reclined languidly in his seat, balancing on the rear two legs of his chair. I knew that no matter how much I wished it, the chair would not tilt backwards and spill its occupant onto the floor, Joshua would remain perfectly level, poised on his otherworldly grace.

"No," I said sharply, eternally thankful that I managed not to choke on the word and mangle the single syllable.

Joshua seemed anything but relieved by my response, his self-assured smile slipping away into a mask of indifference.

I glanced down at my hands, which I had buried in my lap, hating the slight twinge of guilt I felt for speaking to the other boy so harshly. My fingers clenched around the fabric bunched at my hips, and I noticed absentmindedly that the hem of my shirt was beginning to unravel. I picked out the loose strings, my mind elsewhere.

If only I could go back...

I glanced up once more as Sora placed a steaming plate of pancakes in front of me.

Once I had pushed away the fog of my own thoughts, I realized the oddity of the situation and looked up at him in astonishment. "How did you make that? There couldn't be any perishables left here…"

Sora grinned smugly, obviously proud of his accomplishment. "I bought some ingredients pretty cheap off one of the moogles who set up camp in the Fourth District."

I stared at him incredulously, eyeing the food doubtfully. "Moogles are now selling pancake mix and eggs?"

The brunet merely shrugged, laughing lightly before ogling the table and smacking his forehead into his palm. Mumbling something about "forgetting silverware like an idiot" and "Riku would so make fun of me for this", Sora shuffled back into the kitchenette.

Joshua stood abruptly, chair creaking in protest, and my attention was drawn back to him. He advanced towards me, crossing the invisible boundary line that had been established by the wooden table. My eyes narrowed at his audacity as he reclined casually against the blood-red wall beside me, and I growled when he dared to lean in closer.

"Now, Neku, don't let your new friend catch you being so rude to another guest," his voice tightened almost indiscernibly on the word entitling my relationship with Sora, but I heard it. Because I knew that the one thing Joshua longed for, but seemed unable to reach, was friendship – a bond that would give life to his spectral existence. He found it once, but that feeling slipped from between his fingers.

And here he was, still pathetically grasping at the strands.

But wasn't I the same? I never could give up on him entirely; I hadn't tried.

I realized this as Joshua bent at the waist and placed his lips against my ear.

"I'll come to your room tonight, Neku," he whispered. "Just like old times."

With that Joshua turned, calling into the kitchen and briefly telling Sora that Riku was alive and well, but he regrettably couldn't stay and chat longer. He collected his shoes by the door, and then he was gone, never glancing back.

The breakfast before me turned cold gradually, and despite Sora's nagging, was left uneaten. My eyes stayed fixed on the dark mahogany door through which Joshua had disappeared. An aching sense of loss stirred in the air, as if something beautiful had once graced the room, but then withdrawn its touch, parting without a word, only a trace of longing and solitude remaining in its wake. And I wondered if that was how Joshua had felt when I left him alone on the street the previous night, my departure unaccompanied by any form of resolution.

My fingers began to pluck faster at the unraveling blue and yellow strands at the hem of my high collared shirt, dismay pooling in the pit of my stomach.

Suddenly struck by the full bulk of my guilt, I cowered, too ashamed to even raise my head and meet Sora's gaze as he inquired for the umpteenth time that day if I was alright. All it seemed I could manage was to nod my head mutely and watch as faded cloth came apart in my hands.


Numb disbelief. That's all I felt as Joshua's lips shaped dreaded words, giving corporeal form and outline to the most fearful of my nightmares.

So I asked him to repeat, even though I had already heard and understood.

"It was me, Neku," Joshua whispered, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm Shibuya's Composer."

"No…That can't-" The bond of trust snapped. My heart didn't shatter so much as desert me entirely, nothing but a gaping hole remained - overflowing with the severed memories of the one person I had ever trusted, and the only person who had ever lied to me with such ease.

But he never looked away, even as I fell to my knees before him, tears welling in my eyes. Perhaps that would have been better - maybe he should have turned and left me to grieve alone, because then I never would have seen the overwhelming remorse – the misery – reflected in his hollowed violet gaze.

And it must have been the first time I ever cried for another person's pain. For whatever agony I endured was mirrored and doubled in Joshua's eyes.

He had known all along that our friendship- and all else we had- would end this way; he knew that inevitably we would meet on opposing sides of a struggle, a game, that all seemed so meaningless. Hell, he even handpicked me from the thousands of city-dwellers to serve as his proxy. And maybe I had deserved it, being the ungrateful recluse I was, but it hurt, oh God it hurt so much to know he was the one who had taken everything away- the one who had tormented my friends and bartered the lives of so many. The people of Shibuya would never know that all along they were held in the palm of a friendless teenage boy.

"Neku?" His voice called me back, forcing reality, like shards of razor glass into my chest. "You'd better pick up that gun…I'll count down from ten."

And he began, taking one long stride in my direction with each number he spoke.

Ten, nine, eight…

But I knew, even before I felt the weight of cold steel against my palm, that I could never do him harm. Joshua could take my life if he so desired; he could destroy Shibuya and rebuild it from scraps of concrete foundation and graffiti-ridden alleys if it pleased him, but I refused to be his end – I would not see his blood on my hands or witness the life drain from his eyes.

Seven, six, five…

I could feel his gaze upon me as weak arms fell limply to shuddering sides, my only hope of survival slipping between fingers that had long since lost any semblance of strength. He flinched slightly as my last chance clattered to the cold ground, a fleeting expression of disappointment turning the corners of his lips even as he continued the countdown to my death.

Four, three, two…

He stood before me, hardly a hand's length away, close enough that I could effortlessly see the shadows of regret roiling in pools of violet fury. I wondered if he had truly hoped for me put an end to his existence and take the decision out of his hands. But that would have been too easy, and Joshua would have never lived with his regret. Maybe it was just the beginning of our punishment.

Finally Joshua closed his eyes, whether to block out the memory of my pathetic visage weeping on hands and knees before him or to prevent me from deciphering the churning chaos in his gaze – I did not know. Then he stooped, and pressing the gun's barrel lengthwise against my chest for a fleeting moment, he breathed the last number against my lips.

One.

The tears didn't stop flowing – not until Joshua stepped back, steadied his aim, and with a single concluding conference of our eyes, pulled the trigger and killed me for a second time.


I woke both cold and unbearably warm, sweat breaking out on my brow while simultaneously shivers coursed down my spine. The torturous recollections continued to plague my mind even after I escaped from sleep, crushing my lungs and claiming the frantic breaths that remained. Gasping and wide-eyed, I glanced around the dim room, lit faintly by the stuttering streetlamps lining the pavement below.

And he was there, just as he had promised, perched on the sill of the window I had left unbolted and ajar.

"How long have you been there?" I asked, gathering the sheets into my arms and holding them before me, as if to add another protective layer to the distance between us.

"Long enough," he said quietly, folding his gray-speckled wings a suitable amount so that he could slip through the window and soundlessly into the room.

I could tell, by the way his eyes were downcast and refused to meet my own, that he had some inclination as to what I had dreamed.

His guilt was nearly tangible in the room.

Maybe our link isn't as broken as I thought…

Or perhaps Joshua had always been able to see through me.

I shuddered, despite the warmth of the room and the cocoon I had formed out of the swaths of fabric strewn across the mattress. The same exhaustion I had felt so keenly the night before crept once more into my bones, and my shoulders slumped, fingers loosening on woven cloth. I looked up at Joshua wearily, voice a bare rasp as it passed through strained vocal cords. "Why are you here?"

His eyes flashed in the dark, glancing over my form. "You know why," he responded, sounding just as fatigued as I felt.

Sighing, I unwound navy cloth from my legs and hips, letting the pleated folds be stained a shade darker by the night. Successfully extricating myself from the tight grip, I slid off the bed, bare feet sinking into plush carpet. I paced to Joshua's side, determined to converse on equal grounds.

He leaned back against the bedpost farthest from the wall, seeming unperturbed by my actions, pushing his hands deep into his pockets as I came to stand before him.

We faced each other in silence and darkness. This moment I had both anticipated and shied from – but it seemed neither of us could conjure words to speak.

"Actually, I don't…" I said, unable to bear the apprehensive hush that had blanketed the room.

Joshua breathed deeply, his eyes rolling heavenward, uttering a soundless prayer to the unseen sky before kicking off the bedpost and closing the gap between us.

I shifted uncomfortably but refused to retreat.

"Neku," he began, inhaling deeply again. "I have no excuse for any of my wrongs, but you know that, don't you? The Composer – that's who I am, and you understand. So I'm confused; if you hated the Composer, if you hated me, you wouldn't spare another thought or look in my direction. But you do. You stand there staring but never moving, like you're waiting for something. And I'm asking you, Neku, to tell me why you're still here."

The room fell into silence once more, and Joshua merely studied my features intently, seeming content to remain rooted to the floor in front of me until he received an answer.

I ran shaking fingers through unkempt knots of orange hair and directed my gaze to the floor as I considered Joshua's words. I was waiting; I had been since the day Joshua finally spoke the truth – waiting for some proof that his identity and the circumstances of my death were the only lies he had woven. I needed an honest admission that his smiles, the gentle touch of his fingers, and the warmth we had shared were not false as well. Had I blindly allowed myself to be used, to fall hard for a being beyond my reach? Was he pitiless stone? I wanted to know that he was not.

All humans hold onto hope with broken and bleeding fingers until their last breath. And I was so painfully human, waiting for a friendship that might never return, and may have never existed to begin with. I longed to hear in Joshua's own voice that all I had known and felt were not lies buried in senseless oblivion beneath the countless others.

At last I raised my head and met his searching gaze, and when I spoke it was with unwavering resolve. "I need you to show me that you cared – that I was more than a proxy for you to toy with to your heart's content. …Please." The closing entreaty sounded so desperate I almost cringed. I was begging; practically groveling at Joshua's feet, yearning to be assured that my trust had not been misplaced.

An exasperated groan slipped from Joshua's lips, and he tugged harshly at a pastel curl. "Why else would I be here, Neku? Why would I try over and over again-?"

"I don't know, Josh. But it kind of seems to me like your favorite pastime is screwing with people. What? You didn't get enough of messing with my head the first time?" I deadpanned, but I knew my words were incorrect even as my tongue gave them shape. If he was truly seeking to take advantage of a frail heart, he wouldn't look so miserable, and he wouldn't be hunched with the encumbrance of guilt. I knew, but I had bristled at his irritated tone, prepared to bite back at him, just as I used to be- so ready to jump at his slightest insult or harmless quip.

Already on edge, I reacted with abnormal swiftness and severity when Joshua stretched out a hand towards me. And honestly, it wasn't all that unexpected. Joshua ached for the closeness of others, a precious rarity he had been denied for so long; and he often reached out as a way to convey affection, as if to reassure himself with a touch that in a world of deceits, something concrete and meaningful remained.

Unfortunately, he could not have selected a worse companion, for I had always despised intimate interaction with those I could not understand.

And he could not have picked a worse moment to reach out, with my heart already racing vigorously from the remnants of nightmares, and uncontrollable anger beginning to spread like liquid fire through my veins.

When his fingertips brushed against the base of my neck, that fire flared and I seized his wrist in an unforgiving grip, pulling his hand with unnecessary force away from my body.

Violet eyes widened in alarm as my fingers curled and tightened, raised welts forming along the sharp angle of his wrist as my blunt fingernails burrowed into his flesh. He was astounded that I had used violence against him, but when the initial surprise faded, Joshua's gaze became gentle and understanding, as if he were appeasing a difficult child.

I had always hated that expression more than any other. I could cope with his teasing smiles, his arrogant smirks, even his lies, but I could not stand the glint of sympathy in his eyes. For although Joshua was a mere inch or two taller than I, that expression of consolation seemed to shrink my image to infinitesimal worth before his towering form.

Anger surged into my core with near magnetic force, building and gathering into a painful knot within my chest. I needed an outlet, for so long I had been unsteady on the level ground, and more than anything I longed to regain balance. But Joshua served as constant interference, knocking me from my feet the instant I learned to stand, and as cruel as it may be, I longed to see him take that position of vulnerability for once.

Glancing up briefly into eyes still shimmering with the soothing expression I despised so much, I released his wrist from my grip, only to settle my hands against his thin chest instead and push with every ounce of strength that lingered in my limbs.

I did not expect the weak attempt to harness my retribution. The feeble shove probably wouldn't budge him an inch, and he'd just pull my hands away and smile that infuriating smile, laughing softly at my childish ferocity. I didn't imagine anything would change…

But Joshua fell.

He tripped backwards, stumbling inelegantly as he attempted to shift his weight and remain upright, but his efforts were futile, and he fell, sprawling across the carpeted floor and barely able to catch himself with the palms of his hands before his knees likewise collided with the surface. There was a glint of metallic orange as Joshua's phone slipped out of his pocket, landing with a dull thump on the navy carpet beside its owner.

I was stunned- frozen entirely by disbelief that Joshua, the boy who was always so poised, so impossibly stable on his own feet, had fallen to his knees.

Joshua appeared to be in a similar state of shock, head bowed, violet eyes fastened on the floor only inches from his nose, lengthy grey-blonde curls brushing against the cobalt rug.

Guilt began to pool in my stomach, and I stared at my hands, unable to believe I had been so bold. I should have felt elated, powerful, after prevailing over the tyrant who had ruled over me, body, mind, and heart, but all I could feel was numb shame.

Joshua did not belong on the ground; he was not meant for submissive defeat. But the angelic grace that had constantly held him aloft had gone, forsaking a debauched and pathless boy who had strayed far from his purpose. I was shocked that his elegance had abandoned him, allowing his legs to buckle and drop his form into an undignified position. More disturbing though, was the fact my hands had forced him there.

When finally I found the courage to approach, I could barely hold back the stuttering apology that wavered at my lips, and I had to fight the urge to brush my fingers over his spine and sink them into the downy mass of his wings as I crouched at his side.

He didn't look up, remaining motionless as I seated myself cross-legged at his side. He might have even been able to pass for a statue cloaked in the leaden grey of the night if I couldn't see the soft twirling of his loose curls and the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"Josh…" I muttered, and I was suddenly seized by a strange compulsion to prod his side just to be certain he was still conscious.

There was no response from my unmoving companion, so I sighed and glanced down at my hands, which lay nervously clasped in my lap.

A glint of something orange against a sea of blended blacks and blues caught my eye, and curiously I leaned forward, recalling that Joshua had dropped his phone when he fell.

To my astonishment I saw, beneath a worn and chipped screen, a half-forgotten image from a suppressed memory – of two boys, one with near gold curls, and the other with messy orange fringe. I gazed in disbelief at the small rectangular display, uncertain for a moment whether the happy occupants of the picture could be real.

They were – lips pressed together, but tender smiles still intact, fingers tangled in untamed tresses - that past, those people had existed.

And they weren't gone. As much as I had fought to make them disappear, I was unable to escape the clutching fingers of a past self who longed to be born again and held, despite the divergences and games of fate, in arms that had been kind. The sudden yearning that struck me was nearly suffocating; I wanted to retrace my steps and live that life again, in an eternal loop if I must, to escape the collapse.

If I had ever needed any proof that Joshua had cared, and still did, that age-old picture was enough to fragment any remaining doubts. For just as Joshua had promised on that day that seemed so long ago, the photograph he had once held so dear was never erased.

I raised my gaze from the tattered screen to see that Joshua had lifted himself from his slumped position and was kneeling across from me, watching in silence. His eyes were unrecognizable. And I had to struggle against the impulse to fling myself onto the carpet he had just vacated and beg him to speak softly, assure me that the story the picture told was the truth – that he had loved and never stopped.

Wordlessly, Joshua picked up his phone, startling me out of my reverie. He glanced at the screen in a practiced motion, as if he had done so a thousand times before, and then he casually flipped the device closed, shutting away the joyful memories. Carefully, he pushed the phone back into his pocket.

I observed his every movement, wishing he would speak, or even laugh. "You didn't delete that…" I said, still trying to discern the meaning of his actions, or lack thereof, fingers curling at my sides as I battled the desire to touch him.

Joshua glanced at me briefly, a cautious smile lighting his amethyst eyes. "I told you I would not."

Silence filled the room once more, although the pressure had been alleviated immensely by the short exchange, and so the two of us sat in comfortable, almost companionable stillness as we both contemplated a more pleasant past. But the single moment of sincerity that had passed between us was enough to begin the course of healing, and I could almost see myself mending, exposed wounds knitting together to form scars that would surely fade with time.

"Neku," Joshua said, and I glanced up, but his eyes were fixed on his long fingers, which traced pointless designs into the deep sapphire carpet. Knowing he had my attention, the flaxen-haired boy continued. "I swore I would live a life without regret, so that when I found peace I could leave this life content, but I failed for the most part, and…"

I interrupted him, certain that he was about to utter a whole-hearted apology, and I did not want to hear it, not when we were both at fault. "Mistakes make us human," I said, surprised that I had offered such condolences.

Joshua grinned sardonically and his wings shifted slightly, a gentle reminder that he was anything but human.

Instead of flinching when I realized my error, I found myself fascinated by the notion.

Because Joshua was human - at one time, just as breakable, lost, and full of mortal imperfections. With whatever sliver of humanity remained, I knew he could feel regret, and loneliness. And God, did I know if Joshua could feel anything, he felt the frigid cold of solitude, for I had seen that same loneliness quivering in his lilac eyes long ago. And it was that desperately lost gaze which had begged me to draw closer despite the walls of dishonest smiles and laughter – to touch him gently and make half a being whole. I had never before seen a person with eyes so terribly sad, and although his lips spun lie after spiteful lie, those eyes could never mislead me.

I caught a glimpse of that sadness once more before he shifted his gaze to the plush navy carpet where his fingers continued to swirl aimlessly, shoulders quivering indistinctly and staggering the rhythm.

In that moment I understood.

The two of us chased each other in endless circles, seldom getting close enough to reach out and touch, but even in those rare instances, always unsure of ourselves, we would push away until we were separate once more. We longed for that closeness, that warmth, but we were both so accustomed to the shades of loneliness that it had become our protection – a guard from the outside world and all its disappointments. Matters of the heart were something we had never been able to comprehend.

But what I had when at last I submitted to fate's whims, the feeling of knowing and being known, of being accepted – each scar and every flaw – after stripping away all pretenses, certainly it was worth any and all suffering, just as Sora had said.

That's what it meant to hold someone close: to shred the lies and forgive; for every being wears faults, both on the skin and beneath.

I wanted to discover those feelings again; they had only been buried temporarily beneath hurt and doubt, I was certain they had never disappeared. I had seen the worst of Joshua - uncovered his lies, his desolation, and I wanted more – to know him completely, but this time on equal terms.

Our punishments had been dealt and served, and we both needed to recover, to lean on each other's shoulders as we learned how to stand once more.

Every pain, each frozen longing and agonizing strain faded into yet another memory as I shifted closer to him.

His violet eyes met mine, and I nearly cried aloud in relief, for although they held confusion and a turbulence of insecurity, the light of honest joy had not been extinguished.

What we once had- it was beyond hope- could never be salvaged, but with resolve, we could set the past aflame, watch it burn and scatter. We could begin again; build something stronger and more meaningful out of the hewn remains of a former friendship. Not by layering over our past hurts, our wrongs, and not by cutting them out absolutely, for we did not need ridges of anger beneath a new foundation, nor holes that would over time expand and weaken the structure. To truly heal, we would have to accept the cleaved past, absorb it and make it a part of ourselves.

If I could be granted one wish in this life or the next, it would be that his eyes never dim.

Joshua watched me quietly from where he was seated humbly an arm's length away on the dark carpet of a hotel room in a world far from home.

And I understood. Neither of us was meant to be alone – that's why there were two of us, equally lost.

I was silent as to the future, and I made no uncertain promises, but my fingers were still and utterly sure when I took him into my arms.


The Composer


"…See you there?"

The words hung heavy in the air, draping across The Composer and nearly dragging him to his knees with the weight of their naïve hope.

He couldn't bear to watch as Neku laughed with his small group of friends – couldn't bear to watch as the petite girl with wide eyes made wider by large glasses smiled, turning a light shade of pink when Neku patted her shoulder and grinned.

As selfish as it may have been, The Composer could not stand the bliss in Neku's eyes, the happiness that had once only been his to see.

And he hurt. For beneath the downy plumage of white wings, and the pure energy that flowed across his skin; beyond even the surges of otherworldly power that coursed through his veins, a human heart fluttered weakly in The Composer's chest still. And it ached.

He turned from Hanekoma, who stood faithfully by his side, muttering worthless words.

"You look down."

Normally he would have countered his subordinate with a smirk and a sarcastic remark, but The Composer found he could not speak.

He closed his eyes briefly to block out the scene below, and for a moment The Composer imagined that he was at Neku's side instead, making the orange-haired boy laugh and smile.

The Composer could almost see it: the two of them, sitting on the brick wall beside The Statue of Hachikō – the very symbol of long-lasting devotion – with their legs swinging, heels knocking against the rough ledge. Their hands would be clasped together, fingers interlocked, and Joshua would lean forward, his free hand brushing over Neku's thigh and settling on his knee. Pressing his lips just beneath Neku's pulse point, he would whisper, "do you trust me?" ever so gently.

To which Neku would reply "of course," before turning his head and meeting Joshua's lips with his own. And they would be happy. So, so happy.

That chance was gone, shattered into oblivion by his own clumsy hand.

The Composer's fragile human heart wept for the loss, and he was not at all surprised to feel wetness trailing down his cheeks.

But the world had a strange sense of destiny, and an even stranger way of leading one soul to another.

Joshua knew this, and so he brushed his tears away, chiding himself for losing hope.

Then in a soft wavering of untainted light, The Composer disappeared from Hanekoma's side in pursuit of his dreams.

And he waited – he waited for a second chance.


4 months later


I dropped my bag onto the hardwood floor as I stepped into my apartment, sighing and rolling my shoulders in an attempt to work out the stiffness in my upper back. Kicking off my shoes by the door and grumbling about the amount of homework my teachers had assigned, I didn't notice the open window until I felt a gentle breeze rolling over my bare arms.

I glanced up, eyeing the parted curtains warily, certain that the window had been securely sealed when I left for school that morning.

Cocking a single orange brow and frowning skeptically, I crossed the room in long strides, gaze fixed on the sprawling city beyond the glass panes.

As I approached the window with the intent of locking it and drawing the curtains together, a glint of orange caught my eye.

Turning towards the source, my frown gradually dwindled as I recognized the metallic orange phone lying innocently on my bed. Raising my eyes to the window once more, I snatched the cellphone off my blue bedspread.

I flipped the device open, a hint of a smile forming on my lips as I was greeted by a familiar picture.

Typing in the passcode with deft movements, I opened the most recent note.

My dearest little Neku~ You have a phone, so use it. But since you have probably failed to turn yours on, I'm leaving mine here again. As I'm sure you've noticed by now, you left your headphones in WildKat when you were there with us yesterday. Meet me at The Statue of Hachikō at five and I'll give them back. Also, remember I'm cooking tonight, so you better not stuff your face like you usually do when you get back from school!

I snapped the phone shut, grinning as I glanced at the clock. Quickly pulling my shoes back on and stuffing Joshua's phone into the pocket of my loose-fitting shorts, I hurried out the door, leaving the window as it had been upon my entrance, curtains fluttering amiably.

When I arrived out of breath at our customary meeting place fifteen minutes later, he was already there, sitting cross-legged on the stone wall and flicking bread crumbs at a group of flustered pigeons.

Joshua looked up when I called out his name, and I waved his orange phone wildly in the air.

Standing, he brushed the last of his bread crumbs onto the concrete and met me halfway, smiling fondly when I threw my arms around his neck and drew him close. As I pressed against him, I contentedly breathed in the scent of fresh coffee and pastries that always seemed to linger on his clothes after he finished his shift at WildKat.

And there was nothing I could have ever wanted more for Joshua than to see him at peace, absolutely satisfied to lead a normal life when he had no pressing duties as Composer. Our lives weren't perfect – I struggled in school and Joshua still waged war against some of his more disobedient reapers, but I didn't need perfect, not as long as I could enfold myself in Joshua's embrace at the end of the day and feel at home. The scars we had left on one another were not yet wholly healed, but we had found forgiveness and stitched our bond back together- into one far sturdier than before.

"Trust me?" I murmured, knotting my fingers into tousled flaxen curls.

His eyes were lit with a hundred hues, dancing with mirth and loving warmth as he leaned forward and whispered, "certainly, dear."

Overwhelmed by the pounding of my heart, I silenced his gentle laughter with my lips.


AN: I felt like KH DDD was Joshua and Neku's second chance, to meet and maybe see eye-to-eye, or at least form some sort of friendship not quite as twisted or lonely as in TWEWY. And somehow that idea morphed into this ridiculously long one-shot. Reviews are greatly appreciated!