Hi guys! It's been a while since I've published anything here. This is a little one-shot I wrote in my spare time, this time diving into the Underground of The World Ends With You, one of my favourite games of all time. I hope you all enjoy!

One-Shot: Game OVER

When I was growing up, I saw things that other people couldn't see. I could see gods of death, their eyes shadowed by Tigre Punk hoods and their bony wings black and brittle. I could see ghosts running in the streets, fighting monsters. I could see them dying (dying? How can ghosts die?), their souls blinking out like static in an old tv. I could see the fear in their eyes.

My parents told me I was special. They said that I could see what the world was blind to. But I could tell they were scared. Mom would often look at me sadly, her hands clutching tight onto mine whenever we made a trip into the city. She would always make me carry little marble pins and my old stuffed toy cat. For protection, she'd insist. I didn't get it, but I learned to oblige.

And Dad...he was angry. Not at me. He never raised his voice or so much as glared in my direction. He was angry at himself. He wouldn't show it in front of me, but sometimes I'd catch him in the middle of the night, whispering to Mom about how it was all his fault, she never deserved this, the UG, the Game...things that never made sense to my ears, but Mom seemed to understand.

As I got older, it was as if my senses were growing stronger and stronger by the minute. I could now hear the voices of the dead, all their conversations, their hopes, their terrors. The cries of the monsters as they wreaked havoc. The noises filled my head. It was too much. An awful pain, like a never-ending migraine.

When I told Dad, he bought me a pair of headphones. I remember coming home with them in a box, crushing the cardboard top between my fingers. Mom raised an eyebrow when she saw them in my hands, and gave Dad a questioning look.

He rubbed the back of his head. "So she can keep the Noise at bay," was all he said. She nodded in acceptance.

From that day, I almost never took my headphones off, and the pain lessened over time. But I couldn't change the sight in my eyes.

Once, I asked Mom why I didn't look much like her or Dad. My hair was ashen blond, very different from anyone else on either side of the family. She got a pensive look on her face, like she wasn't sure how to answer the question. Finally, she said, "When you were a baby, you were graced by...an angel." She wouldn't tell me more than that, and in the end, I stopped asking her. It would have been easier to understand if they claimed I was adopted.

Over time, I came to realise that my parents were keeping a secret from me. What it was, I wasn't sure. One thing I did know, though, was that it probably had to do with my senses.

When I was sixteen years old, I finally learned what that secret was. The day I found out was the day that I died.

It wasn't the most dramatic way to go. I was heading up the stairs of the station underpass after school, in a hurry to meet up with my friends for a concert. There were shiny flyers and posters advertising it everywhere. I was in such a rush, I didn't even notice one that had been abandoned on the steps. As soon as my foot made contact, I slipped and fell backwards. My stuffed toy flew out of my hands. I tried to reach out...but before I even knew what was happening, I felt my body crash against the concrete, and everything went black.

I didn't know how long I was unconscious. When I awoke, I expected to feel pain all over my body. Maybe a cracked skull, I don't know. There was none. I didn't even hurt.

The floor below me felt cold and glassy, nothing like the rough stone of the underpass, nor anything like a hospital bed. I could feel something soft and furry in my arms. My plush doll. I felt a momentary panic, not knowing at all where I was; then, I took a deep breath. Calm down, I told myself, hugging it to my chest. I wanted to curl up and hide. But I had to know where I was. I cracked open one eye.

The first thing I saw was a pair of white shoes, just a few feet from my nose. I tilted my head upwards. The owner of the shoes appeared to be a boy. I guessed that he was probably around my age, or maybe slightly older. I couldn't tell exactly. He was slim, no, more than that, he was scrawny, in a way that made you expect him to be one of those kids that was a frequent target of bullies, but he held himself with the sort of confidence that most people couldn't even dream of having, his head high and his stance casual. It was his wavy hair, though, that fascinated me most. I inhaled sharply. It was the same ash blond colour as mine.

In his left hand, he was holding something orange. I squinted. It looked like a flip phone, one of those ones from years and years ago - but those were ancient, no one used them anymore. I was pretty sure you couldn't get one in working condition nowadays...but the way he was scanning the screen with the utmost concentration and fiddling with the buttons made me wonder if I was wrong.

Finally, he closed it and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Such a bother," he rolled his eyes. His voice was more high-pitched than I expected. "I've never heard of a more troublesome GM - well, not since Minamimoto, but at least he was entertaining." He gave a chuckle, enjoying his own private joke. Then, his eyes met mine, and lit up.

The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk. "Well, well. Looks like the young missy is finally awake." He placed a hand on his hip and regarded me with a curious look, as if he was sizing me up. "Had a good sleep, little one?"

With effort, I sat up and got to my feet, trying to shake off the dazed feeling I was having. I didn't like his tone one bit. "Don't give me that," I gripped my cat even tighter and tried to muster up the harshest look I could. It wasn't very good, if his mirth was any indication. "Who are you, and where am I?" A thought occurred to me, and my eyes widened. "Am I being kidnapped?"

The boy raised an eyebrow at my words, before giggling at that last one in amusement. "And here I thought dear Neku would've raised you to be smarter than that. Clearly, I overestimated him." Wait, Dad? "This isn't a kidnapping, child, although your parents will probably be banging on my door in an hour as if it is. No, this is much more interesting."

His grin widened, and he flipped a small black pin towards me. As I caught it, I saw a white skull insignia printed onto its metal frame and felt a growing sense of dread. I had seen this pin before, actually I had seen it way too many times before...on the souls of the dead.

"Welcome to the Reaper's Game, Kotone Sakuraba."

This fanfiction piece was inspired by the secret ending in Solo Remix, where a mysterious girl is shown in front of of sign saying "New 7 Days." As this girl, popularly nicknamed Hype-chan, has no official persona as of yet, I wanted to try giving my own interpretation. So! Here she is, as Neku and Shiki's daughter. Instead of being closed off to the world, her senses are too in tune with her surroundings, it may seem... Hmm, but what's her odd connection to Joshua...?
I decided to give her the name Kotone, which means "sound of the harp", as I thought it ties in nicely with Neku's own musically themed name.
Feedback and critiques are welcomed. Anyways, thanks for reading!

stealthclaw, out!