Coup D'Etat

Coup D'Etat

Ch. 3

It had taken a while to plow through the crowds and longer still before Neku finally succeeded in purchasing Joshua's precious ramen as Ken Doi had been unusually popular that night (though that could have been attributed to Eiji Oji's unexpected appearance). Neku inwardly cursed Joshua's stubbornness as he hurriedly thanked the owner of Ramen Don before he seized his purchase and fled, neglecting even to pick up his change. He belatedly realized that in his haste to escape his father's uncomfortable inquiries, he had essentially condemned the Composer to face the man's tender mercies alone.

Well, said a vindictive voice in his head that vaguely sounded like Pi-Face, it served the radian right for killing him. Twice.

Shibuya at night bustled energetically to life beneath a sky lit up by a myriad of artificial lights. The redhead's rushed strides were filled with urgency, though some part of him had longed to remain amongst them and take in the symphony of voices that surrounded him. So tempting the urge was, he would have given in if not for the cartoon of cooling ramen swung with from inside a plain plastic bag, banging into his legs with every few steps.

At last, Neku made it back to his house unscathed and unmolested. He jammed his keys in the doorknob and flew into the house. Kicking off his shoes, he raced up the stairs, hoping to see Joshua where he left him.

Joshua was, in fact, was where Neku left him, curled up on his bed. His face was rather pale and he had passed out again, sleeping soundly, curled around a pillow. He, in that moment, looked rather vulnerable and like any other teenage boy.

Neku gently set down the ramen containers onto his desk before hurrying over to inspect the other boy whose condition had somehow worsened. Frowning, he berated himself for not returning sooner. From the looks of it, Joshua still hadn't had anything to eat yet. He debated on waking the Composer though he loathed to disturb his much-needed rest. Hesitantly, he reached over to shake Joshua's shoulders.

Before Neku could do such, the Composer's vibrant orange cell phone went off, on the floor a few feet away from the bed. The ring tone was generic, surprisingly, but loud as hell.

Out of reflex that had been drilled into him during the Reaper's Game, Neku had snatched it up and flipped it open before he realized that he shouldn't be answering Joshua's phone.

"J, you there?" boomed the familiar voice of cafe owner Sanae Hanekoma, sounding a bit weary and rather exhausted.

"M-Mr. H!" exclaimed Neku, in relief. Then he blushed at being caught doing something he shouldn't have. "Uhh, sorry but, Joshua's asleep. I'll go wake him for you, then?"

"Nah, it's fine. Let the kid sleep," the black-haired male chuckled into the phone. "I suppose I'll just relay the message to you, then. Take a seat, if you ain't already seated, Phones."

That certainly sounded ominous. "O-Ok," said Neku as he sunk to his floor, cross-legged. "Is there trouble?"

"...Well, the UG is kinda falling apart because it doesn't have a permanent Conductor yet. There's been a lot more Reapers and Players being attacked by feral, untamed noise. There's no order and it's basically just chaos," Sanae sighed.

"So," Neku frowned, the new tidbit of info raising a lot of questions, "This mess is because there isn't a Conductor? Wouldn't everything work out if Josh just made Lollipop's position permanent then?"

"Things don't work that way, Phones." Mr. H grumbled some to himself before his voice became audible again. "Shibuya sort of picks its own Conductor, in a way. The Composer knows who it picks, of course, because the Composer is the Composer, after all. Josh knows who Shibuya picked, but he'll be damned if he acts on it."

"But... but that's just stupid!" Neku whispered harshly so not to wake the person in question. "He's going to risk his life, Shibuya... everything! Just because he doesn't... like who the City picked or something?"

"Oh, it's not a matter of liking who the City picked," Mr. H murmured to himself and inhaled deeply. "Let's just leave it at that. In other news..." He waited a moment, clearing his throat. "Kariya told me to relay the message to Josh that the Shibuya River is still standing strong and hasn't been attacked yet."

"I'll tell him that," Neku sighed into the phone, fiddling with Joshua's cell phone charm. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, one more thing." Mr. Hanekoma almost seemed hesitant. "Tell Josh that he'd be an idiot to let you go again. Later, Phones." With that, the older male hung up.

"..." Neku sat, frozen with confusion. "What?" he demanded of the dial tone. As usual, the two higher beings were infuriatingly cryptic. Neku realized that he really needed some different company, having had only dealt with weirdos for the entire day. (The weirdest probably being his own father.)

Joshua stirred a few moments after the phone call had ended, skinny body arching in a similar fashion to a cat. "Hrm...Neku?" he mumbled drowsily into the pillow, violet eyes slipping open.

Quickly, Neku stuffed the cell phone into Joshua's discarded shirt and pushed it out of sight. "Oh, hey. Uh, I got your stupid ramen."

Joshua yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Oh," he responded laconically and stretched again. He spotted the carton in a small bag near him and snagged it, snapping open the pack of chopsticks before opening the carton as well, settling his body back against the headboard. Wordlessly, he hoisted a few noodles into his mouth and sighed quietly to himself. Going a day without food, and having a curse, was not a good idea.

Neku slumped, back leaning against a leg of his writing table and for a few moments, just watched Joshua dig into his first meal in over a day. "By the way, Mr. H called a little while ago." He hoped his father was asleep by now, definitely not in the mood to explain if he walked in on a bizarre conversation.

"Mmm?" Joshua asked over a mouthful of ramen, brow arching in inquiry.

"He basically said to tell you that Kariya was holding down the fort at the River." Neku absently plucked a strand of silver hair from his shirt. "They're still standing strong in the UG."

"That's good," Joshua said after a bite, eyes far more distant than usual. He resumed eating, not saying another word on the matter.

"And..." Neku stopped, unsure if he wanted to mention Mr. Hanekoma's last befuddling sentence.

"And?" Joshua lowered the chopsticks from his mouth, brow arched again.

"And... never mind." Neku decided to bring it up once he actually figured out what it meant. "It can wait."

Joshua frowned, rolled his eyes, and went back to eating his Shio Ramen. And of course, "Mmm...I'm in paradise"

Neku actually cracked a wry smile at that. It had greatly annoyed him when they first met, but he had grown tolerant, if not almost fond, of Joshua's tendencies to say strange things. "Feeling better?"

Joshua looked over to Neku, some of his color returning. "Oh, I suppose," he stated dramatically before pointing a chopstick at Neku. "Have you eaten yet?"

Now that he mentioned it, Neku realized with a jolt that he hadn't. "No..." he admitted, though he was far too exhausted to even think about getting off his floor and drag himself downstairs to cook something.

Joshua rolled his eyes and slipped off the bed and headed over to where Neku was and promptly sat down. He offered one of his chopsticks to the red-head and smirked. "Hm...I suppose I can share."

Neku eyed the proffered utensil dubiously. "I'll go grab another pair." He started the tedious task of getting to his feet.

Joshua pondered for a moment and stubbornly snagged Neku's nearest arm, dragging him back down into a sitting position. "Think of something else, you're not leaving me alone in a room again."

The redhead blanched in response. "Oh." He tried to stop himself from fidgeting. "Did... My dad didn't... He didn't say anything weird to you, did he?"

"He said he was glad that you found such a nice boyfriend to call your own," Joshua hummed, resuming eating with a serious look sprawled across his face.

"..." said Neku. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

Joshua giggled quietly, eyes sparkling with mischief. "He said that if you didn't treat me right to tell him," the silveret cooed.

Neku stared at nothing in particular, brain having broken apart with a very audible crack. "Shit," he replied. "Shit. That is... Really, really bad."

"...Neku, are you all right?" Joshua questioned with not much care, extending a slender hand out to touch the boy's forehead to check his temperature, knowing full well he wasn't sick.

That snapped the boy out of his horrified trance. "No, I'm not alright!! I'm going to die!" he whimpered, eyes starting to develop a crazed sort of sheen. "He... he thinks... He thinks I brought home a guy and--!!"

"And?" Joshua questioned curiously, head tilting. He was interested to see where this rant was going before he stopped it.

"And?" Neku roared, "and... and did stuff! And somehow, this is all your fault!"

Joshua giggled some. "Oh Neku, you're so amusing when you're flustered. No, your father didn't tell me those things. He simply apologized for rushing out earlier this morning and asked about my arm."

Neku abruptly fell silent, eyes shadowed by his bangs. "Oh. I... see," he said in a voice that trembled with barely suppressed emotion. "So... you were just making all that up...?" His lips slowly drew apart, stretching into a very, very wide, maniacal grin. "What a... relief."

Joshua rolled his eyes at once. "Oh come now, Neku. Surely having your dad think you were crooked isn't that bad," the silveret stated nonchalantly.

Neku let out something that resembled like a hysterical giggle. "I'm going to kill you slowly."

"...Excuse me?" Joshua questioned and blinked over at his partner.

"Nothing, nothing," said Neku. He flashed Joshua a pleasant smile with his eyes forming suspiciously happy arcs.

"Neku, what are you going on about?" Joshua demanded, setting down the ramen carefully between them so he could childishly fold his arms to his chest.

"Your arms must be tired," said Neku cheerfully, ignoring the other's question. He picked up the unfinished container and the chopsticks. "Here, how about I feed you the rest of it?" he asked and without missing a beat, proceeded to ruthlessly shove the noodles down the Composer's throat.

Joshua sputtered and used his good arm to shove at Neku's. "Neku!" he stated, muffled, through mouthfuls of noodles and wood. "Stop that!"

Neku smiled beatifically, carrying on calmly as if nothing was wrong. "Eat up, Josh. I wouldn't want my father to think I'm... mistreating you."

Joshua twitched, now raising his hand up to attempt to block his mouth. "What you're doing is treating me like a baby, now cut it out, Neku," he cursed.

With a casual flick of the chopsticks, Neku batted away the hand with expert ease, delivering down the next mouthful especially hard. "Oh come on, Josh. It's good to be pampered once in a while."

"And why are you pampering me?" Joshua grumbled and then began chewing.

"Because I finally have such a nice boyfriend to call my own," replied Neku, saturating the last words with menace.

Out in the hall, Neku's pajama-clad father smiled a little at the heartwarming scene before returning to bed.

Joshua glowered and flinched away at last, shoving at Neku's arm as he did so. "You, Neku Sakuraba, are by far the most immature and simple-minded person in the entire planes!"

"Yes I am," Neku answered agreeably. He looked down at the now empty container. "I'll go and throw this out now." And he left the room, victorious.

Joshua huffed and leaned against the wall, face staining itself a light pink as his partner left. "What an imbecile," he murmured to himself, lifting his hand to push his hair back, acutely aware of the blush that now adorned his cheeks.

.

"Neku."

The aforementioned boy froze on his way back to his room. He swallowed and turned to the owner of the voice. "Yes, Dad?"

Glasses off and dark hair tickling his eyes, Neku's father smiled at him. This time, however, it was gentle. "You found a good one, son. Don't let him go." Clasping his teenager's shoulder paternally, the man disappeared back into his bedroom and shut the door.

Neku was left standing in the hall. And sighed. Of course.

Of fucking course.

.

After having failed to reach Joshua on his cell-phone (why would the kid have it off at such a crucial time as this? Then again, it was nearly midnight), Sanae Hanekoma decided it would be best to head down to the Shibuya River and check in with the Conductor considering the Composer couldn't do it himself. So, the black-haired, tall male began his trek down the quiet, desolated streets of Shibuya, fiddling with his phone as he walked. This mess shouldn't have started, but that didn't mean it couldn't be fixed. With a heavy sigh, the Producer pushed all thoughts of guilt and destruction out of his head and replaced them with ideas on how to solve this. The answer was obvious, but Joshua wasn't one to budge once he had made his mind up. The Producer needed to think of an alternate way end this uprising of chaos in the UG... as well as the RG. Apparently, as Sanae had heard from Players and Reapers who had wandered into his cafe earlier that night, crime had begun to rise in the RG. Reapers and Players were only more aware of this fact than those in the RG simply because they were invisible. They could see things that criminals thought were nicely hidden from wandering eyes.

"It's all just a mess," Sanae grumbled to himself, hoping desperately that the connection to the rising crime-rate in the RG wasn't connected to the chaos in the UG. Possessed Reapers? Noise spawning from seemingly nothing...?

When Sanae Hanekoma finally reached the entrance to the River and had made it down to the lounge where the Conductor usually was, he was a bit relieved. "Kariya, you in?" he called, hand pushing open the door as he glanced about the familiar room.

The temporary Conductor's perpetually unruffled demeanor was somewhat lacking, lazy slouch replaced with something a bit more rigid and weary. Even his trademark bean paste had left his mouth, rewrapped for safekeeping in his hoodie. "Mr. Hanekoma," he acknowledged the other male, too drained for pleasantries, "What brings you here?"

"Since I can't get in contact with the Composer, figured you were the next best thing," the dark-haired male explained, shoulders falling into a shrug as he casually sauntered over, hands nestled into his pockets.

Kariya let out an exaggerated sigh. "So that means I'll be stuck here a while longer, doesn't it?" he asked rhetorically. He knew he had doubts about taking the job from the beginning, but things were rapidly deteriorating. It was, to say the least, horribly difficult to strike back against an enemy that hid their tracks so well. At the moment, the Game had been suspended and all the weaker Reapers and some of the Players had been rounded up and sent to a safe zone, guarded by Uzuki. This decision was partly to keep her out of immediate harm, and partly so that she couldn't barge into the room, guns a-blazing. Leaning back on his tall chair, he cleared away the now towering stacks of paperwork so to see the Producer better. "What can I do for you?"

"There's been problems in the other plane--the RG," Sanae explained, leaning a hand against the desk with a worried look spreading across his face. "Crime-rate has spiked. I assume it's just because the UG isn't doing all that well, but I've never seen it get his bad, even when Kitanji and the Composer were playing their Game. I'm worried that if we don't find whoever is doing this, both planes will fall. The Composer has yet to inform his pick for Conductor about the job...and although you're doing a marvelous job, Kariya, without the true Conductor's music, 'm afraid that things will continue to come undone."

Kariya rubbed circles on his temples. "Unfortunately, there isn't anything that we can do about the RG at the moment," he admitted, exhaling loudly. "First off, the Reapers already have their hands full with the Rogue Noise. We figured out that there's no way to engage them safely; anyone who comes directly in contact with them have their Frequencies... well, damaged is really the only way to put it. And speakin' of Frequencies, something's making it a lot harder to change ours. The off duty Reapers can't come back, so we're really short on manpower."

Sanae allowed his hand to reach up and drift through his gelled hair, obviously bothered by that information. "Hopefully that hasn't happened to the Composer," he murmured and shook his head. "I'm going to attempt to get in contact with him again. Perhaps he has thought of something to do to end this." That was, if Joshua wasn't too busy making amends with his ex-proxy.

"Did you find out anything more about what's makin' the Noise?" Kariya questioned. He his last report from one of the Reapers in the field had been cut off, worrying him greatly. They needed the Composer, more than anything at this point in time.

Sanae sucked in a deep breath, smacking his lips together. "Not exactly...though I am starting to think our threat is a single person tampering with the planes. Someone able to see into the UG and be in the RG simultaneously."

"A single person?" The only sign of surprise from the (unwilling) Conductor was a raised eyebrow. "That's... rather troublin' for someone to have that kind of power. Could it be another Composer?"

"J- Our Composer would have sensed another Composer's presence. Composer's are bound to their own cities. The chance of another is highly unlikely," Mr. Hanekoma reasoned

Well, that was another possibility dashed. "I just thought it wouldn't have been farfetched to assume that someone is takin' advantage of Shibuya missing a Conductor to try to expand their territory." Kariya reached into his pockets to retrieve his candy, wrapping his teeth around the stick in agitation. "So, you contacted the Composer after he went into the RG, right? What was his situation?"

Sanae appeared to be in deep thought. "He's hiding out. If he falls, our world collaspes as well. He's hiding out with Neku Sakuraba." His gaze lifted, a bit curious to see Kariya's reaction to those words.

"Ah..." said the orange haired Reaper. He thought back to the ex-Player's second week and his fairer partner whom he had mistakenly pegged as alive. "It seems Phones just can't seem to get away, doesn't it?"

"Precisely," Mr. Hanekoma chuckled and faltered. "...Kariya, Shibuya and the Composer chose Phones to be their Conductor..."

Kariya nodded, not as surprised as the other thought he would be, tapping his chin, contemplative. "I sort of figured as much. His Soul really is powerful, 'specially after he beat Megumi Kitaniji."

He paused. "But why doesn't the Composer just tell him?"

"He doesn't want Phones involved in the Game again. The three weeks he spent here nearly broke him, the Composer is aware of that," the Producer explained and rubbed his forehead with exasperation. "I'm at a loss for what to do."

Kariya shook his head disappointedly. "Weird, it isn't like the Composer to put one person over Shibuya. But... there isn't anything else for us to do but to hold out for as long as possible. After all," he fixed the Producer with a solemn look, "it's His decision."

"That's what I keep telling myself, Kai. That's what I keep telling myself," the black-haired male murmured to himself, mirroring the Conductor's look.

.

After Neku's encounter with his father, he was back in his room, shoulders slumped. He couldn't help but mull over his advice, advice that had unnervingly mirrored Mr. Hanekoma's words which were meant for Joshua. Don't let him go. What exactly had they meant by that? He decided to put off his pondering until morning, groggily noting that he was tired again, even after his impromptu nap. His stomach growled, reminding them that he had force-fed the remainder of the ramen to Joshua. Maybe he should have sucked it up and just had some...?

"What the hell took you so long?" the silver-haired Composer grumbled from his placement on the bed. He was lying on his side, cheek pressed to the pillow, looking as comfortable as ever.

"No reason," said Neku evasively. He prodded Joshua with his foot, a little annoyed at how he had made himself completely at home. "Off. I'll go ready the guestroom for you."

Joshua groaned in response, rubbing his cheek stubbornly against the pillow. "Oh but Neku, I'm rather comfortable here. Surely you won't mind sharing your bed with a Soul in need, hrm?"

Neku sighed, not really having enough energy to quarrel. "You'll be just as comfortable somewhere else," he argued feebly. "This is my bed."

"Which I'm already on. I'm too tired to move," the Composer complained, stretching his limbs some as he laid there, a smirk rolling onto his lips.

And so Neku gave up. "Fine," he grunted, searching his drawers for a spare bed sheet to spread on the ground. "Have your way then."

"You don't want to sleep in the same bed as me, Neku?" Joshua wondered, glancing across at the red-head curiously.

The boy paused in his rummaging and fixed the Composer with a low-powered glare. "And have my dad come in and ask awkward questions. No, not really." He finally dragged a sheet out and shook it, wincing a bit from the dust.

"We're both dressed. Stop being stubborn," Joshua grumbled, patting the spot next to him drowsily.

"I'm doing this for my peace of mind," explained Neku, dragging the thin covering beside his bed. He lay on it, trying and failing to find a comfortable spot. The floor dug into his bones, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Good night."

Joshua frowned, staring over the edge of the bed. He said nothing for a moment, pale eyes staring down at Neku. "...Good night, then."

"Mm," came the tired reply. "See you in the morning, Josh."

"...See you then," Joshua echoed, voice trailing off as he closed his eyes, unable to stare at his ex-proxy any longer. He tried to sleep, but found that it would not come, so instead settled up lying there quietly, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the red-head to pass out.

Neku's breaths slowly evened out, his chest rising and falling gently. The moon shone through a gap in the curtains, bathing the boy's peaceful features in its gentle glow.

After around thirty minutes of sleepless turning, the Composer lifted his thin body up from the bed and lingered near the window. "I shouldn't be here," he murmured spitefully to himself, voice quieter than a whisper. "I told myself I wouldn't involve him again, and here I am, selfishly getting him involved," he muttered and looked over his shoulder at the boy. "I know you haven't forgiven me for what you've done yet...I'm not sure if I've forgiven myself either." The silveret shrugged indifferently and walked over, footsteps barely making a sound.

"Sleep well, Neku," the Composer whispered, voice far softer than his usual chiding. He bent down and ran his pale fingers through the boy's bangs, hesitating, before dropping his lips to the other's forehead. He sighed, shaking his head at himself, before standing back up. "Hopefully I didn't cause you too much trouble."

With that, and a weary glance over his shoulder, the Composer left quietly out the door, form flickering lightly as he walked. He wasn't one to stand around and let the UG crumble, nor was he one to stay where he shouldn't be. But for some reason, leaving his ex-proxy was one of the single most hardest things he had ever done.