"Can I get you guys anything?"
Joshua's head was ducked behind the bar of the wide, brightly lit space, at least four cocktail shakers were floating around him as the contents of one dropped into a martini glass with a big sphere of ice. His head peeked out, and the glass slid effortlessly down the bar to an older woman, with tiny triangular Reaper wings. Quickly, he dispatched the other three he was working on and made up a Shirley Temple for a little Reaper girl who couldn't even see over the countertop. Kariya gave him a nod before vaulting over the bar to mix himself something from one of the tall smoked bottles lining the back.
"I could use something stiff," Rudol admitted.
"How stiff?" Joshua asked, as Lea and Isa glared disapprovingly. "I'll… keep it mild. Don't want to upset your parents," he added with a smug grin.
"It's been a profoundly long day," Rudol said with a sigh, trying to justify himself.
"Aw, c'mon it's not like I'm offering fairy food," Joshua joked to Holly.
"That's not how it works and you know it," Holly reminded. "And we can't take alcohol from humans."
Joshua spread his wings at that. "Well you're in luck, never was, never will be. And I have juice and sodas too if you'd rather not be sloshed."
Holly glared. "The strongest you've got, angel."
Kariya spun the bottle he was using for himself, pouring her a shot too. "Ambrosia from Rome, 10CE. To your taste, elf?"
Slowly, the entire city of Reapers and Players trickled into the space. Vanitas busied himself with hiding as far in a corner as was possible, away from everyone. Not that it was easy- the area was set up like a giant club or bar, except, instead of being dark and intimate, it was bright, white, and open. The bar itself was backlit in blue, with an obsidian countertop, the furniture a mix of sofas and lounges that looked far too stylish and angular to be functional, yet immensely comfortable to sit in, the backs slouching just so to provide a resting place for those with wings. The entire floor was an aquarium, the glass clacking with every heel or chair moved to make an awkward circle of sofas and folding chairs facing the bar itself.
A giant shark swam lazily underfoot.
Vanitas practically heard a woman squeal as she shuffled over in his direction in an extraordinarily poofy black dress and platform shoes that rocked back and forth as she walked. Her hair rolled in unnatural curls. A wig, likely. Dyed, and heavily teased, at the very least.
"Wherever did Master get those red eye contacts? They are delightful!" she crowed at him.
He bristled a little at Master. "Don't call me that."
"Do you prefer Mistress?" she asked, worried. "Princess K apologizes for the sleight."
Where had he heard… Monday. At the vegetarian place. She was the gothic shopkeeper that inspired fear in the Reapers. The fashion experiment lady.
"What… no. Not Mistress at all, just… not Master. Please."
"Oh dear. May Princess K use Sir?"
"Sir… is fine. I guess." She wasn't anywhere near as bad as the Reapers had made her out to be. "And they're not contacts. I have red eyes."
Flood squeaked at that and showed his own off to her.
"Oh… oh my, and a tame Noise too?" She was practically melting. "How delightfully morbid."
"Someone likes the whole 'being dead' thing a bit much, huh?"
"Oh, yes! Very much so. Princess K of the Bunny Realm! I have come to Earth to refine my ways," she said, with a quiet curtsy. Vanitas wasn't sure if it were an act or the genuine truth, given his own background.
Flood nosed forward a bit.
"Princess K wonders if she might say hello to the delightful friend of yours?"
"What? Yeah, sure," Vanitas said, letting his arms slacken. Flood jumped, bouncing on her layers of petticoats before settling.
"The little sir… Princess K could design a purse that looks like him," she said with a small smile, reaching out to stroke him. "Does little sir have a name?" The woman was strange, but not much unlike how Vanitas was strange.
"Flood."
"How Biblical," she said wistfully. "Princess K is surprised Noise can survive in the wards in here. Master Joshua is so very strict with them. Are you new, good sir? Princess K has never seen you before."
"Three days old," Vanitas said, shrugging.
"Come by Princess K's shop. Lapin Angelique may have something to help the good sir fight better. Sir's current jacket only provides a small strength boost, no?" She nodded at his windbreaker with interest.
"Someone mentioned the clothes are all magicked," Vanitas said with a shrug. "I just grabbed what fit."
"Do not worry, tailoring is no extra charge," she said with a small smile. "Sir would look good in a suit with waistcoat, Princess K thinks."
"I'll… uh… keep it in mind, thanks," Vanitas replied, as Princess K lifted the Unversed and snuggled it gently. Vanitas noticed others were taking any seat but near them. It was almost like she was a Reaper repellant.
"People… are avoiding you," he muttered under his breath.
"Most of Princess K's customers are the living. It's a bit sad, Princess K admits. We do so love seeing our dresses and jackets on those with wings."
"I… wouldn't mind stopping by," Vanitas admitted. "I don't have a lot of clothes anyway."
Princess K lit up like a rocket. "Oh do! A bow tie for the little sir on the house, too," she added, and immediately pulled out a sketchbook from God-knows-where to busy herself with drawing, Flood nosing in, and squealing as she drew a picture of it wearing a deep purple bow.
Neku couldn't remember the last time he'd been smothered this much. It seemed like every Reaper in the city wanted to come up and give him a hug. Some he didn't recognize till they spoke- now in clothes of their choosing as they were no longer the lowest ranking grunts in the face-covering hoodie uniform.
"The Reaper Review still remembers you," one skinny Reaper decked out in Tigre Punks duds and a nose ring cried out at him before pulling him in for a good natured noogie.
The living- the Japanese living, at least- had never been this physically affectionate. Neku didn't mind this though, it was… nice. He gave the formerly irritating barrier Reaper a solid smack on the back in return before reciprocating with a proper hug.
"How's real life treating you?" the Reaper asked him.
"I switch to art school Friday. Did a semester of regular prep, but someone managed to wear my parents down. It's in Shibuya too, so I'll be sure to leave some tags for you all to deface," Neku said, grinning a bit toothily.
"Oh, sick. I'll keep an eye out."
"You better," Beat replied, getting his own share of fist bumps. "Neku promised to design my next skate deck. When it's worth millions remember- Sakuraba did it first."
The doors swung open, and a group of non-winged people entered, escorted by Gabriel, Uriel, and Rhyme, who now had her own wings on display. Beat gave her a pair of finger guns as she strode past the grunt Reapers, then the officers, lieutenants, and generals, the final group the only ones aware. They bowed and parted, and she slid to take a seat directly on the bar counter, magically dry of drink or ice, and pristine clean.
"Joshua?" she asked, and he began, by snapping his fingers.
You could hear a pin drop.
"Sorry, guys. I really don't like yelling. And this is important. For those who just joined us, hello, you get something really special. We normally don't let anyone see how the sausage is made, so to speak. Nice seeing all your friends in one piece, right? Anyway," he added, sweeping an arm around the room. "If you need the bathroom or anything, it's thataway, just go. I'll still be audible from there. If you need to stop and ask a question, raise your hand. I'll un-silence you. If you want a drink, just head up to the bar, one of the Reapers will service you. The whole room's silenced, so there won't be any annoying clinking glass."
He picked up a dry erase pad. "Just write what you want. Or type on your phone. Food's after our chat. Fair? Fair."
He pushed himself up to sit next to Rhyme on the countertop, gently circling a wing around her. "First off, some housekeeping. We're getting a new Producer soon. No word yet from Upstairs who, but verdict's been passed and announced that Hanekoma's actions in February led to his immediate removal. He's been demoted, wings plucked, and he's Conductor of Hachioji. Yep, down two notches, and stuck in the boonies. He's still an Angel but he's going to be flightless for a while yet 'till his molt, so he can't leave the city without permission or his wings growing back in. That's at least six months, maybe a year."
Several of the Reapers shuddered, while the Players and the rest of the Reapers looked on confused.
"For those of you new, a fine gentleman by the name of Hanekoma was our Producer. An Archangel, as in higher rank than me. Don't worry, you didn't miss much. If you ran afoul of a Producer, trust me, your issue was way beyond a regular Reaper pay grade. Most of the people who just winced knew him as a shopkeep up on Cat Street with the best breakfast in the city, not as a celestial being."
"To our lovely Players, I apologize, this is going to be a whole lot of political gibberish. But here's something that might be of interest to you, too. I'm formally announcing our newest officer. Some of you grunts might've been a bit surprised to see an old friend with wings."
Joshua turned, and gave Rhyme a one-armed hug. "This is Bito Raimu, she's been acting Conductor of Shibuya since we lost Kitanji in February. I'm going to take the opportunity of gathering everyone here to announce her official position. Un-silence-ing you bastards so you can give her a proper welcome, and…?"
Joshua waved his fingers and the space erupted in raucous noise that practically shook the glass floor, until Joshua silenced them again. "Toasts after. Anyway. Players, this is important to you, because if you want your lives back, you're fighting her Sunday. Good luuuuuuck," he added with a Cheshire grin.
"So. Housekeeping out of the way. I wouldn't have called a state of emergency for that. Certainly wouldn't have invited our lovely guests down here too, would I?" He gestured lazily to the mass of players, as Kariya flung him a glass down the bar between serving Players and Reapers alike on the far side, a small line forming for him and Eri and two other Reapers serving the crowd.
Joshua took a sip and made a bit of a face, sliding it back. "All yours, I'd like something without booze tonight, thanks."
Kariya downed it in a gulp and sent back chilled pineapple juice.
"Thanks. I'd rather be sober for this," Joshua sighed, staring sharply at the crowd. "We're going to war tomorrow."
The crowd would have gasped, if they could, instead only making the awkward pantomime of it. Neku laughed aloud, to the collective stares of everyone in the room.
"Oh shit, right, you can't hurt me, this counts as hurting me?" Neku said to the echoing halls. "Um. I'll shut up now. Or, um, if it works, Josh, you can shut me up, I give permission."
"We'll get to our spikey orange friend in a minute," Joshua said, facepalming, snapping his fingers again. "Try talking, dear?" he asked Neku, who opened his mouth, to no sound coming out.
Joshua raised his glass to that. "We've got a bunch of funny friends in the room here, which is why now's the best time for a good old fashioned invasion."
He smiled, and sipped. "So. Here's the deal. Many of you are vaguely aware that shits's going down in Shinjuku next door. The Conductor's a psychopath, the Composer can't control her, and we have noidea who their Producer is, but is most definitely enabling this shit, if not outright helping. For our most recently dead friends, every city is led by three- a Reaper and a pair of Angels. Conductor is my friend Rhyme here. The top ranked Reaper, runs and oversees the Game. Above them is the Composer, that's me here in Shibuya. They're actually in charge of the city; Conductors don't actually have the Imagination to change the city. I don't run games, but I can shift the very fabric of the land. That means, should you win, I'm the one bringing you back to life. Most of what I handle you don't see. Above that is another angel, higher rank. They're the Producer. They're arbiters. Basically angel police. If there's a dispute among the ranks, that's their job to settle the score. We lost ours a few months ago so I've been sorta filling both roles till head office sends me a replacement. It's possible for a game to run without a Producer or Composer, but not both. There's nobody with the power to bring winners back to life, then. And most Producers are even more secretive than their Conductors are. Gabriel here and I are exceptions, not the rule, also, Gabe and Uriel? Wave hi." The two other angels flapped their wings to float above the crowd, before settling.
"Gabriel and Uriel are Composers. Chiyoda for Gabe, and… Uriel's… well. Shinjuku's next door."
More stunned silence.
"So. Long story cut real short. Tomorrow we're storming Shinjuku to go kill, or, really, un-kill, Coco, the Conductor of Shinjuku. Return the city back to Uriel. And save a whole lotta afterlives. There will be no mission tomorrow. There may not be one Friday, either."
"So," Rhyme said, pulling her knees to her chest, unaffected by Joshua's silence. "We're asking for help."
Coco unzipped the body bag.
Yozora was practically comatose, covered in more scratches and bruising. She waved her hands over him and he choked awake, spitting out a tooth.
He screamed. She silenced him, and watched with a crooked smile as he yelled in inaudible agony for a few moments before she healed him back up.
"No use to me dead," she complained, kicking him in the ribs with her hot pink high top.
"Now, now, that any way to treat a gift?" a young man's voice said, oddly chipper. He waved his arms around frantically, like his limbs were made of elastic and he was barely containing them.
"You ever gonna give me a name other than Master, Producer?" Coco whined. "You're not my dad, and certainly not the boss of me."
"Oh, no, absolutely not! No bossing what-so-ever," the man replied, and one could hear the smile in his voice even if you couldn't see it under the hood. "And it's not Master, how many times do I have to tell you? Master of Masters, pleeeeeeeeease get it right? For me?"
Coco stuck her tongue out at him and materialized a bottle of water, which she stuck in the bound Yozora's mouth. "Until I know you're God, you're just a sugar daddy. Nothing more."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's see what else I can do, here…" he said, head turned to the Square Enix building, its double towers nowhere near as imposing at five in the bright summer afternoon as they were at night. One could hardly lurk from a rooftop in broad daylight, after all.
He flicked a pin between his fingers that he'd nicked off a woman's bag earlier.
A woman who'd walked from Meiji Shrine to Shinjuku's Kabukicho district to meet friends for dinner.
Meiji Shrine. In Shibuya. Well, technically, Harajuku, but that was still a district of the larger Shibuya area.
And it had a Heartless logo on it. The Master of Masters knew that symbol well; he'd seen it in days long gone and days to come, and even snuck the logo idea in some game company designer's head with an imprint some 20 years ago or so.
20 years ago, when he was in an elevator with some game and Disney employees and he'd whispered some honeyed words- why don't you all work together? A show or somesuch, maybe one of those newfangled 3D action games?
It'll sell, you'll see.
He flicked the pin again, letting it fall deign side up into his black glove, before he crushed it to dust.
"They're coming. The Shibuya Reapers."
"Oh, that was obvious," Coco said, sweet as sugar. "Those pins are all imprinted."
"That they are. 'Walk to Shinjuku'! What a load of chocobo-dung. That's all there is? What are they trying to do? Get someone living run over by a car?"
"Oh, I wish, then I'd have more little souls to drag around on the pavement," Coco said wistfully. "Honestly, I don't know what they're trying to do. If Shibuya's tagging living people to tag everyone- living and Reaper alike…"
"Like in February?" The black-clad Producer asked.
"Mhmmmm. Heard all about it. Could see it too, from my side of the thing."
"You were just a barrier Reaper then."
"So booooooooriiiiing," Coco whined.
"I can only imagine. Being bored sucks soooooo much, doesn't it? Aren't you pleased as punch I got you promoted?"
"Oh and that accident in Ruppongi, that moved that idiot redhead as my Conductor?" Coco added with a satisfied giggle. "She can't do squat when its two on one."
"I'm particularly proud of that one," he replied, nodding reverently. "Soooo, kiddo, what now?"
"Well, if Reapers are coming, let's roll out the welcome mat. Let's say we… give 'em some brand restrictions?"
The man rubbed his hands fervently. "I am LOVING the way you think. Mus Rattus? That'll knock 'em down a peg or three. Stuff's got nothing but weak mass produced charms."
"Naw, I'm thinking something with just a hair more bite," she said grinning, holding the ends of her own puffy dress. "I do love a good curse."
"Oh. Hair. Haaaaare," the man laughed, doubling over at the joke way more than a normal person might. It took him a solid three minutes to regain composure. "Can't wait to see that pansy blonde in a ballgown."
Joshua sneezed, a small feat for an angel who wasn't trying to pretend to be mortal, and rubbed his nose on a cocktail napkin. "So. Yes. War," he added, sagely, finished showing off the photos Komaeda's twin brother had been sending his Shibuya counterpart on a roll-down projector for them, and the reason why dinner hadn't been served prior to the all-hands meeting. "That's what it's like ground zero for dead people there. Reapers leaking Noise, missing limbs, barely able to do more than hide and pray. Players? Bah, forget it. Nobody survives past Wednesday."
A few Players sat in shock, and an older-looking Reaper downed sake angrily enough to shatter the glass.
"Hand out, Taro," Joshua ordered, and with a tiny miracle, willed the cup back whole and a cut on the man's forearm gone without a trace. "So. Here's the deal. We're going to go kick her ass, using everyone's who's been pinned. Those things we were handing out today'll turn the living to mindless zombies. No- before you all chuck your highballs at me, hear me out," he added, ducking a thrown glass even though he froze it midair. "I'm not making the living fight. I'm making a wall. It's forbidden for the dead to harm the living. Pretty much the only thing that'll cause an actual act of God if the rule's broken. I'm using them to corner Coco and nothing more. She's not going to care about breaking any inanimate objects or buildings- so long as the people aren't in them- or Reapers or Players but you bet your cocktail feathers she'll be extremely careful around a flash mob of living people. Wouldn't want a reprimand from upstairs, and trust me, if making Taboo Noise gets an angel plucked and demoted, you can't imagine what killing the living without express permission gets as punishment for a Reaper two stations below that. And if she does get off easy, it'll be a lot quicker to pinpoint exactly who it is upstairs who's giving her a hand."
Kariya fluttered down the bar to tap Joshua on the shoulder.
"Speak," Joshua ordered, and the orange haired matchstick coughed once, finding his voice.
"What if God's the one letting her off easy?"
"Not possible."
"You clarified 'with express permission'."
"Yes, as someone who received it once, said express permission extended only to one person in very specific, watched, extenuating circumstances. If she had a license to kill, you don't think she'd've long since used it? Oh, come off," Joshua added, looking at the angry crowd. "Said one person I had permission to kill is standing right there, and very much alive now, thank you very much."
Neku pushed his way through the crowd, grinned, and punched Joshua so hard in the face that he fell backwards off the countertop and onto the rubberized flooring of the far side of the bar, short three teeth and a functioning nose. Neku bowed to the crowd of onlookers, flipped a middle finger while showing off his pre-taped right hand, and snatched up a whiteboard to ask for a Fanta in shaky off-hand writing.
Joshua pulled himself up, nose and mouth bloodied as he spat out a tooth and fixed his face. He squinted at the whiteboard as a black eye reversed itself. "Hang oth… I'm not going toth touch the taps coverth in ichorth," he said, teeth growing back as they should be. "You taped up this time, Neku, good."
"Wash your hands first, always," he added to the crowd, cleaning off, then poured Neku a soda like nothing happened, re-situating himself back on the counter with one of his own. "So. Coco would have killed the living already if she didn't fear repercussion. Hence the imprinting pins. Lesse, what else? Yes, an army," he said, fingers on his shirt to clear off the blood, removing it with a flick.
"What I'm asking is completely, utterly, totally optional. Choosing to abstain will not affect you or your performance in any way. In fact, Reapers? I will actually turn people right around if too many of you want to play hero. I can't have the entire city's Reapers gone in a day if things go pear-shaped in Shinjuku. Players, too. If Coco gets you, you're gone. No third chances. She's ruthless."
"No draft, ladies, gents, and friends of all shapes. But I amasking for soldiers. Reapers, if you say no, you're just going to hand out more imprinting pins in the morning then get the hell as far south in Shibuya as you can. Stay away from the Shinjuku border. Players? If you decline you'll just get a freebie day. Maybe two. Depends on how much damage gets done. In the off chance that we… that we don't make it out the other side in one piece, I've done a bit of magic. You'll all be revived Sunday good as new if… well. If things go less than stellar. A bit of preemptive magic so you're not screwed. Thank Rhyme for that, it wasn't my idea."
"Now, shopkeeps, whoever's fighting with us is going to need equipment. Best you've got. Best spells you've got. Pins too. Your backroom's your front room tonight and I'm paying. We clear?"
Next to Sora, Jun gave Joshua a lopsided salute, and Princess K gave ever-so-small a nod in her boss's direction. Other Reapers nodded in acknowledgement around the room.
"Now see here. If you want to help, come to me or Rhyme during dinner and ask for a token. Keep it hidden. Check it at 8 PM. If it's still white, too many people are helping and you've been turned away. If the color changes, you're staying for further debriefing. You are under no obligation to ask for a token, but… if you don't want to look like you're chickening out, tell me discreetly and I'll give you a token that won't change color. When we all look at the end of dinner, nobody will ever know you asked to stay behind. And certain people, even if you ask me, are getting one that won't change- no I'm not saying who. I need some of my Reapers and Players to stay behind. Don't take it personally. Good? If you have questions, text them to the number up on the projector. I'll answer what I can over dinner."
Joshua softened, his wings dropping a little as his shoulders released a massive weight.
"Thank you all for coming out today. I know it was required, but… oh, hang on."
Joshua pulled out his phone, ringing loudly with a song that caused a number of people to laugh in dead silence. "Dead kid speaking," he said, picking up the phone as he gave Neku a playful grin.
"They… what? W- you have to be shitting me. What's the requirement?"
Joshua's eyes went huge. "Well. That makes things annoying."
"Really annoying."
Joshua inhaled sharply, clicking the call off. "So, remember how the message said some people had orders to not be here? That call was why; I had some Reapers watch the border. Coco's put up a brand restriction. Princess K? You're about to be a very rich woman."
Joshua dropped the silence spell and commanded Gabriel, Uriel, and a small number of Reapers, the Generals who had saluted Rhyme when she entered, to begin setting up the buffet stations around the edges of the club. Vanitas looked to Princess K, still sitting primly with Flood in her lap.
"Brand restriction?"
"High ranking Reapers and Angels can put spells on parts of the city they work in. A brand restriction is fairly common. It means you may only use pins of a specific brand, or only wear certain clothing. Princess K's assumption is the latter. Princess K understands Joshua. Master likely wants Reapers who know how to hide their wings and sneak in with the crowd of the living to make it difficult for Coco to know who is alive or dead. By requiring Princess K's clothing, it will be much easier to pick out the Reapers, even if their wings are hidden."
"Your dress is… well. A bit different than what most people are wearing." Vanitas couldn't imagine himself in anything that uptight and formal. Especially considering the summer heat and the kind of clothing common on this world.
"It is the refined dress of gothic Lolita, not a costume," Princess K said sadly. "And yes, that's precisely the problem, my sir and little sir. That, and Princess K's magical enhancements are not to many Reaper tastes. Lapin's specialty is the double edged sword; lower ones defenses for empowered attack, for example. Some love the trade-off. Many fear it."
Joshua wound his way over, sliding tokens in several Reaper's hands along the way. Most wanted to fight with him- or, at least, not look like a wuss in front of their peers. Vanitas had no way to tell if Joshua was deliberately handing people duds.
"Princess?" Joshua addressed the woman with a bow.
"Master Joshua?" She replied, handing Vanitas back a napping Flood as she stood to return the gesture.
"Talk for a moment, my dear?"
And they were gone.
"Hey, bastard, token?" Vanitas called out, and Joshua flung one at him. Vanitas opened his hand.
It was already marked blue.
oh, i didn't forget about where MoM was standing at the end of the secret ending. nope.
:3