Disclaimer: The World Ends With You is the property of Square Enix. As always, I'm just borrowing.


A/N: Whew. Please don't ask me how many times I rewrote this chapter. I stopped keeping count somewhere around the seventh draft.

Many thanks to those who have reviewed and/or favorited! 'Tis much appreciated. :)

Also, about the title of the story… it's part of a quote which Josh will mention later on, so I'll leave the explanation to him for now.


-3: chances-


The day after Neku Sakuraba and his friends had been returned to life and it had become clear that Shibuya was not about to vanish in a fit of divine petulance, Hanekoma had gathered up every shred of his courage and gone to face the Composer for what he had fully expected would be the last time, intending to confess his sins, resign from his position and face whatever the future held.

It hadn't gone quite as expected.

He had never before been afraid to set foot in the Room of Reckoning, and was more than a little ashamed to find the emotion overtaking him now. He had known when this started that when it ended, his life as he knew it would be over, and if he were given the last month to do over again he would make the same choices in a heartbeat, but…

Nonetheless.

Drawing a deep breath, he stepped through the entranceway and into the vast, dark hall. Joshua, seated on his great throne, looked up at his entrance, but said nothing as Hanekoma approached. As the angel opened his mouth to speak, however, the Composer held up a warning hand, forestalling the carefully thought out words.

"Sanae. You're here about Minamimoto, I assume?" The corners of his mouth curled upwards, into their familiar yet still slightly unsettling grin. "I wondered when we'd get to this."

Hanekoma shut his eyes, bowed his head, and did not bother to ask how the Composer knew. "Yes, my Lord," he said quietly. The title was strange and foreign on his tongue; it was scarcely used by anyone anymore, but surely he had lost all right to their old familiarities, and 'Sir' hardly seemed adequate either. "I -- cannot ask Your forgiv--"

"Oh, don't be silly, Sanae," Joshua interrupted him, his tone suddenly cross. "Nobody's begging anyone's forgiveness, and you aren't resigning. And you aren't being erased, or banished, or whatever else you're thinking of. I forbid it."

One eye opened. "My Lord--"

"Call me that once more, though," Joshua added levelly, "and you'll be out on your ear."

"Uh…" Hanekoma coughed, opening his other eye and raising his head, though he did not quite make eye contact. After so many years, he thought, he should have had a better idea what to expect from the being before him. "Yes, Sir."

The Composer sighed. "Sanae, did you honestly think I would care?"

Hanekoma stared straight ahead. "I did help a madman try to kill You, Sir." He felt, somehow, that this was a point which someone really ought to be making.

"And?" He could feel the calm, unconcerned gaze boring into him. "I was of the understanding that you were trying to save Shibuya. Was I wrong?"

"…No, Sir."

"Well, then. Of course Shibuya comes first--" as if He had not been about to level the place a month ago. "I'm glad to hear you have your priorities in order." The Composer shrugged. After a moment, he added, mildly, "You're giving me a very odd look, Sanae."

"Uh… sorry, Sir." Hanekoma swallowed, and admitted, "Wasn't really how I was expecting this conversation to go."

Again the faint grin. "If you really insist on penance, feel free to tell the higher-ups; I'm sure they'll take care of it. Personally, I find lying to them works wonders, but whatever makes you feel better." He waved a dismissive hand. "Tell them I said they can do whatever they like to you, as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties as Shibuya's Producer. Anything else, and they'll have to get through Me."

Hanekoma was silent for a long moment before saying, quietly, "Thanks, boss."

"I'll expect a lot of free espresso over the next few weeks, mind you."

That last had been something of a sticking point -- his job was one thing, his life was one thing, but giving away coffee without payment ran against the very grain of Hanekoma's soul -- but half an hour of arguing later, they had hashed out a tentative discount program upon which they could both reluctantly agree, and that, Joshua had seemed to feel, had been that.

What Hanekoma had not pointed out at the time was that the higher-ups were in no way bound to heed the wishes of a mere Composer… particularly when one of their own had taken a blatantly treasonous course of action. And particularly when the Composer in question was not exactly in favor himself, at present -- though with any luck, Hanekoma had expected, Joshua should have gotten out of his own troubles without much worse than a sharp slap on the wrist and possibly an order never, ever to go near a gun again.

Hanekoma had gone to speak to Joshua first because they'd been friends for a long time (and hey, what's an assassination attempt between friends? ) and he had felt that Joshua deserved to hear the story from him, not the higher-ups. Deserved the first swing at him, too, if that was what it came down to. But ultimately, what happened to him over this wasn't up to Joshua… and there was no way in hell that a fallen angel was going to be permitted to stay on as Shibuya's Producer.

He hadn't actually needed to tell the Higher Planes. They had been watching Shibuya -- and specifically Joshua -- quite closely enough already; they had heard the conversation.

There were, however, still formalities to be observed, and shortly thereafter Joshua had received a very politely-worded message on his cell phone, beginning We regret to inform You…, and going on to say that Sanae Hanekoma had officially been declared Fallen and was to be tried for his crimes, and that Shibuya would be sent a new Producer within the week.

Which was where things had gotten a little… interesting.


As Neku was starting home in a foul mood one week later, Joshua was still standing by Hachiko, cheerfully ignoring the knowledge that Sanae, standing next to him, was about ready to hit him over the head with something large and heavy if he spoke a word out of place. As the two dark-clad figures drew near, he raised a hand in greeting, wryly remembering the last person he'd met by the little statue. This probably wasn't going to be as much fun as that had been -- the look on Neku's face, when he'd first met his new partner, was a memory which Joshua intended to cherish for a long time -- but he could always hope. "Howdy."

Next to him, he heard Sanae give a very quiet groan. The two figures paused for a moment and glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes; out of the corner of his mouth, Sanae muttered, "Not sure that's the greeting I would have chosen, boss. Under the circumstances."

Joshua pretended he hadn't heard.

In unison, the two inclined their heads a calculated fraction of an inch, in something that could barely have been called a bow at all. One said, very stiffly, "Greetings, Shibuya."

Joshua's lips curled up in a sweet smile at their careful expressions. Maybe this would be entertaining. Not as much so as, say, making his recent proxy treat him to dinner would have been, but a moderately interesting way to kill a few minutes, nonetheless. "Call me Joshua. Please."

Again the glance between the two. At last, the pair seemed to decide that this informality was best dealt with by pretending it hadn't happened, and one of them began, "We must request that you come with us, Composer."

"Request," Joshua asked mildly, "or order?"

"We would prefer," the second said gravely, "that it be a request."

Joshua nodded. "Then I must respectfully decline. Things to do. I'm sure you know how it is."

Sanae's elbow hit him none too gently in the side, and the angel spoke through clenched teeth. "Boss…"

"My Producer, on the other hand, has entirely too much free time on his hands at present," Joshua added blandly. "I'm sure he'd be delighted to chat with you. Now, if there's nothing else--"

The first of the pair cleared his throat. "We would prefer," he repeated, "to make it a request. However, Composer, it will be an order if it must. Not," he added, and there was a sudden slight dryness in his tone, "that you seem particularly inclined to follow those, either."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"You were, I believe, told most emphatically to remain in the Underground," the second said.

"Ah." Joshua tilted his head thoughtfully. "Sanae did mention it a few days ago, yes."

"And yet--"

"You ask Sanae," Joshua continued, still in mild, amiable tones, as if completely unaware that he was interrupting, "when I last did as he told me. Go on. Ask him."

"Not in the last ten minutes," the angel muttered resignedly under his breath. "I can tell you that much."

"A message was sent directly to you, Shibuya."

"Really?" Joshua frowned delicately for a moment before allowing his expression to clear. "Oh, yes. That one, I believe, was phrased as a request as well. Sanae was a bit more definite, but, as I said…" He shrugged diffidently, letting that sentence go unfinished.

"It is generally understood," the second said levelly, "that some… requests… are meant to be obeyed." There was an odd, strangled sound, somewhere between a cough and a snort, from Sanae, but the angel said nothing, and the duo ignored him.

What do you think, Joshua shot cheerfully to Sanae's thoughts, secure in the knowledge that only the angel would hear. Could we take them, if it came down to it?

Looking over, he saw the angel's eyes widen ever so slightly, glancing heavenward as a peculiar, resigned sort of horror flashed in their depths. It was not unakin to the expression Neku had worn on the day Joshua had more or less forcibly dragged him into the little Lapin Angelique shop by A-East.

"And regrettably," the first went on, oblivious to the telepathic comment, "given your refusal to do so in this instance, Shibuya… steps must be taken to ensure that it does not happen again."

Personally, Joshua added, I suspect we could, between the two of us. They're too hesitant by half. Not used to coming down this far. Now, that would be an interesting fight… and don't pretend you wouldn't enjoy the challenge, Sanae. (He had not missed the fact that his Producer had leapt at the opportunity to take on the other Neku in battle, over in Tin Pin Land. Sanae was just lucky Joshua had gotten the chance to do the same, or Joshua might have been in a far less forgiving mood where certain other offenses were concerned. Admittedly it hadn't been his, Joshua's, Neku, but still. Next best thing.)

Sanae gave a very brief shake of his head, nearly imperceptible but somehow, nonetheless, reproving.

Aloud, Joshua asked the first of the two, in tones of idle curiosity, "And what exactly does that entail?" To Sanae, he conceded silently, Of course, the real trick would be surviving the aftermath. Don't look like that; I'm not honestly considering it. I'd have to work up a sweat, and you know that's not really my thing. I just wondered.

It was the second who answered simply, "At this moment, Composer, it entails you coming with us. One way or another."

"And then?"

"A… seal will be put in place, in the Room of Reckoning," the first said quietly. "It will keep you there -- where you should be in any event, Composer -- and in the Underground, for the time."

Joshua's lips thinned as he nodded. It was with some satisfaction, however, that he sent one more thought in his Producer's direction: Now, there's a surprise. Told you. Well, this one's up to you, Sanae… but you knew that, of course. Do try to be convincing, will you?


And then, some twelve hours later, an incredibly annoyed Neku was standing in Scramble Crossing and staring at the palm of his hand.

"The Acheron?" The name rang a very, very faint bell at the back of his mind, but he couldn't say where he'd heard it.

Pain once again flared, and he sucked in a sharp breath, fingers twitching involuntarily, as another line of text began to unroll. If handwriting could look exasperated, this did.

That's the Shibuya River to you.

And, tacked on as an afterthought a second later:

FYI, the Acheron is a river, in Greece, which was once believed to run into the underworld. I take it we haven't studied much mythology? There isn't time just now, but do try opening a book once in a while, Neku. It'd be nice if you could pretend to be halfway educated.

Neku blinked in tired bemusement at his now rather crowded hand. If there had been any doubt in his mind that Joshua was once again to blame for whatever was going on, that had just erased it. He couldn't think of anyone else who would go to the trouble of summoning him to the UG simply to insult his intelligence.

When a few seconds later he had not yet moved, the words vanished, to be replaced by larger and decidedly more emphatic characters:

Now would be good, Neku. Some of us don't have all day.

"Ow. All right. All right. On my way." He winced, rubbing at his stinging hand, and started towards Hachiko. Briefly, he considered asking what this was about, but any answer from Joshua was likely to be less than enlightening, and his hand hurt enough already. "You know, I think I liked the cell phones better," he added pointedly.

This received an immediate, surprisingly terse response:

Bad idea. Phone being monitored.

Neku halted dead in his tracks, the sharp pain in his hand forgotten. "What?"

Just come here, will you? And shush.

Neku swallowed uneasily, nodded, and ran for the bus terminal at top speed. Joshua, I swear, if this is your stupid idea of a game…


A short time later, he was picking his way along a dank tunnel, trying not to think about the last time he'd been here (only a week ago? It seemed a century, and technically had been a lifetime), and grimacing a little ruefully at what had, five minutes ago, been clean shoes. You people picked a heck of a location, you know. I mean, I realise real estate's expensive, but sheesh.

At last he reached the incongruously bright and clean lounge where they had first confronted Kitaniji. Neku stared at the door in some trepidation before slowly, cautiously pushing it open.

The room was almost exactly as it had been a week ago. No sign of Joshua, but to Neku's surprise the room's second doorway, which had only appeared via mental scan the last time he'd been here, was now dimly visible as a faint, shimmering outline in the air.

Odd -- but fortunate, he supposed. He didn't have a Player Pin this time around, and he couldn't scan without one.

He stepped through, and once again found himself in the trail lined with CAT's -- Mr. Hanekoma's -- familiar and beloved murals. He glanced up at them as he walked, and, as always, couldn't help but smile. Enjoy life, huh? Well, I'm trying. I think I'm getting better at it.

Josh isn't exactly helping the enjoyment factor at the moment, but, you know, I'll do my best.

On which subject, there was still no sign of Joshua, and Neku made a face. The throne room was just ahead. He'd been… kind of hoping he wouldn't have to go back there.

"Neku?" And that friendly, almost fond smile was on Joshua's face, lighting his violet eyes, giving no hint that he could see Neku's world breaking into pieces as he spoke. "You'd better pick up that gun."

Shaking his head as if to dislodge the memory, Neku picked up his pace, striding along the tunnel. What's done is done.

And he tried to ignore the small, persistent thought which said to this, Yeah? So why do you suppose you're back here, exactly?

Stepping into the vast, dark Room of Reckoning, he looked around, and suppressed a sigh. Sure enough, a small, slender figure stood in the distance, waiting patiently before the throne. Before his throne, specifically; the figure was still too far off to see clearly in the dim, apparently sourceless light that spilled through the room, but the long, pale, tousled hair and fair skin and horrifically expensive clothes (seriously, who shopped Dragon Couture and Pegaso and then hung around in a sewer?) were recognisable even from here.

Joshua raised a hand in greeting as Neku drew near. "There you are, Neku. I must say, you made good time."

Neku folded his arms across his chest, gave his erstwhile partner a level stare, and said without preamble, "What's going on?"

Joshua's lips twisted into a faint smile. "Hello to you too."

"Joshua," Neku said firmly, "you show up in the RG with no warning. You drop all these stupid hints about problems, and Mr. Hanekoma being in some kind of trouble. Then you vanish into thin air, mid-freaking-sentence, with nothing but a 'Nice knowing you.' About three o'clock this morning I get woken up by a text message on my cell, with no number, no name, no anything, ordering me to avoid any contact with the UG or suffer the consequences--"

He stopped. Joshua was frowning at that last, his purple eyes thoughtful. "Really."

"Yeah," Neku told him shortly. "And then a few hours later, where do I find myself? Right back in Scramble Crossing. With you carving a goddamn mythology textbook into my hand. Josh, I'm going to say this slowly and carefully, and I would really, really like an answer: What… the… hell?"

Joshua appeared not to have heard this. "I see," he said at last, quietly, and shook his head. "Sorry about that, Neku," he added mildly. "I wasn't expecting them to come down on your head over my trip to the RG yesterday. Not directly. Not yet, anyway."

"Josh. Straight answer. Focus -- you can do this, I'm sure you can. Who's them?"

"Honestly, Neku." A pained expression crossed Joshua's face. "Halfway educated? Please? That has to be the worst grammar that I've ever heard from you; there's no excuse f--"

Neku spoke through gritted teeth. "You know what I meant. Answer. The. Damn. Question."

"Hm." The sound was entirely too amused -- not quite contemptuous, but definitely unimpressed. "Don't worry, Neku; you'll get your explanation. But there's one minor matter which needs to be taken care of first."

Neku opened his mouth, shut his mouth, opened it again, and sighed. "Fine. And that is?"

His gaze followed Joshua's pointing finger, and then stopped to stare.

Between himself and Shibuya's Composer, a wide band of black and white paint wove across the floor, stretching out in a curve which looked as if it ran all the way around the throne. It was made up of dozens of thin, twisting lines, twined together in patterns too complex to follow, and Neku was suddenly and uneasily reminded of the design which Sho Minamimoto had drawn in Udagawa. The design which had summoned Taboo Noise into existence -- and which had allowed the Reaper to return to life, with greater strength than he had possessed before, after Neku and Joshua had fought him.

"You'll need to step across that," Joshua informed him.

Neku eyed it for a moment, eyed Joshua for a moment, eyed Joshua's incredibly innocent expression for a moment, and took two steps backwards. "And that's going to do what, exactly?"

This received a slightly-too-sweet smile. "It's a good deal… safer, on this side, Neku. Other than that, probably nothing."

Like hell it's safer on that side. You're on that side. "Probably," Neku said in a dangerous tone.

Joshua waved a hand irritably. "Definitely nothing, then. If you insist. You did say you trusted me, Neku."

And I'm going to live to regret that, aren't I? Or rather -- if I'm lucky, I'll live to regret that. "You, more or less. That smile you had on a moment ago? Not so much." Once again, Neku's arms folded stubbornly across his chest. "Let's see you walk across the thing."

"…Ah." Joshua sobered. "That, I'm afraid, would present a slight problem."

"Go on," Neku said levelly.

"When I say safer, though, Neku, I do mean it. No-one apart from myself should be aware of your presence here, yet, but stay out there and it's only a matter of time before you're noticed."

"Noticed by who?"

"By whom, Neku," Joshua corrected him absently. "That," he nodded to the band of paint, "will… shield you, once you're inside it, but until then it can only do so much. I will explain things, I promise you that, but I really do need you to step across first." His smile looked slightly more genuine this time. "Just trust me, Neku."

Neku hesitated, but at last, giving Joshua and his smile a dubious look, walked forward and gingerly stepped across the line of paint.

The floor lurched underneath him, the world spun sickeningly, bright lights exploded in his vision. He staggered, doubling over and clutching at his head, and as he felt the ground collide with his shoulder he vowed -- not for the first time -- to punch Shibuya's Composer in the face at the next convenient opportunity. Unless he developed a serious death wish, this was probably not a vow on which he was ever going to make good, but hey, a guy could dream.

An instant later a hand was helping him to his feet, and he heard the mild, careless voice say, "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Neku, blinking the spots from his eyes, gave Joshua a look of intense dislike. "Why did I not shoot you when I had the chance?"

"Ah, well." One corner of Joshua's mouth curled upward. "Answer that one and you'd win the grand prize, I expect. Do let me know if you ever figure it out."

Neku made a face at him and shrugged the steadying hand off of his shoulder, instead making for the support of one of the pillars which flanked the throne. "Anyway, I'm here. Now talk."

"Somebody's cranky this morning. But -- all right. Where to begin?" Joshua paced over to his throne and sat, giving Neku a long, appraising look. "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes -- do you know the phrase?"

"What?" Neku stared at him, puzzled. "N…no."

"Hm. You really ought to read more, Neku. As it's usually quoted in Latin, the question is from the Roman poet Juvenal--" A faint smirk crossed Joshua's face. "Although admittedly, Juvenal didn't use it in quite the same context as it's generally used now."

And someone could actually be expected to know this because…?

"It translates as something like 'Who will guard the guards themselves?' or 'Who will watch over the watchers?'" Joshua shrugged. "In other words, who has the power to see that power is not misused? Always a good question, don't you think?"

"What I think," Neku said levelly, "is that you don't know the actual meaning of the phrase 'straight answer', do you? Joshua, if this is just leading up to more snide comments on the state of my education--"

"Do pay attention, Neku. I'm getting there. The point is that while a Composer's powers -- within His, or Her, territory -- are technically absolute, the overall hierarchy doesn't end there. There are planes beyond the RG and the UG. Their inhabitants almost never interfere directly in the affairs of the UG -- just as the UG almost never interferes directly in the RG."

Neku almost choked. "Um, Joshua? About that last--"

This was met with a sigh. "Almost never, I said. Don't interrupt. But, of course, that's part of the problem. The Higher Planes watch, always -- and they were quite curious to see, Neku, how my Game with Kitaniji would play out. Unfortunately, now that it's over, they've, ah…" Joshua hesitated. "Raised some questions."

"Really? You surprise me."

"It is a bit of a surprise," Joshua agreed, oblivious to sarcasm. "They aren't ones to involve themselves. They aren't ones to explain themselves, either, but as far as I can tell…" Something in his tone became oddly guarded. "I don't think that certain of them are entirely happy about how it turned out."

"Huh?" Neku stared at him blankly. "You didn't blow up Shibuya, or whatever you were going to do. Shades's brainwashing has all been undone. Shibuya, as far as I can see, is in surprisingly good shape. I can understand somebody being a little upset about, oh, everything up to that point, but as far as the end goes, what's not to be happy about?"

"Oh, you'd be amazed," Joshua said quietly. "There are actually several problems that have been brought up, Neku. The one you might want to worry about, however, is -- well -- you."

Neku gave him a long, careful look. "Me."

"That's what I said, yes. I… don't know if you realise just how strong you became, Neku, during the Game. There aren't many people in Shibuya who could survive everything you survived -- and of those, most of them never get anywhere close to their full potential, not in life. They die, they play the Game, and they come out of it a little stronger -- as they're intended to -- but if they return to life, they forget all about the UG. And the RG… simply doesn't pose the same kind of challenges."

"One of its charms," Neku said levelly. "But -- wait. I remember the UG."

"Yes, well, you're a special case. As I was saying before you interrupted -- again -- you were changed far more by the Game than most people ever have the chance to be." Joshua shrugged. "Your imagination, your soul… they've become very powerful, Neku. When you returned to life, you hung onto some things that most couldn't have. And not only that, but without even knowing you were doing it you changed things for your friends, too, allowed them to remember."

"I… did?"

"You did. And to be honest, the Higher Planes aren't quite sure what to do about it."

"But--" Neku blinked. "Why? I mean -- I didn't mean to do anything. I just… want to get back to my life." He rubbed wearily at his forehead, watching the sudden careful lack of expression on Joshua's face. "And that's… that's not going to happen, is it," he said flatly.

"Hard to say, at this point." Joshua was still quiet. "But when your imagination's strong enough to start twisting reality around yourself, when you aren't even trying... well. Certain members of the Higher Planes are a bit concerned about what you might manage if you should try. Or what you might do by accident. Warping reality to that extent, from the RG… not really allowed, you see. Tends to have unpredictable consequences."

"Okay. Let me get this straight. If I hadn't survived your Game, I'd have been erased. I did survive your Game, and now I'm going to get in trouble for it?"

"Not for the actual feat of survival, as such, Neku. Everybody's very impressed about that, I assure you."

"You know," Neku bit out, "what I meant."

Joshua drew a deep breath. "Probably, yes."

"And what's going to happen?"

"…Hard to say."

"Joshua," Neku snapped, glaring at him.

Joshua gave him a bland smile. "I'm a good deal older than you, Neku. And -- not to put too fine a point on it -- I own your soul. Technically speaking. Please don't take that tone with me."

Several responses to this came to mind, though most of them had the same basic gist. Neku bit all of them back, and glowered. "Joshua," he said as patiently as he could manage, "what's going to happen?"

"I really don't know for certain, Neku," Joshua said calmly. "It's unlikely, however, that you'll be allowed to remain in the RG."

"I see."

"Also," Joshua added, as if as an afterthought, "there's a chance Shibuya will be erased and rewritten from scratch."

"There's a what?"

"I know. And after all that we went through, too." Shaking his head, the Composer added, in a tone more rueful than upset, "Figures, doesn't it?"


A/N: And on that note… I hate to say it, but it's probably going to be at least a couple of weeks before the next chapter is up. I have some important exams coming up at the end of the month, and a lot of my free time in the near future needs to go into studying for them. Wish me luck.