11.

Day six. Four players remain: Arita Ryuuji. Nakamura Kenji. Sebastien Santos. Kiryu Yoshiya.

Sanae looked down grimly at the paperwork, resenting more than usual how much like mere busywork it felt. None of the higher ups really cared how Games progressed – they were usually content to just swoop in and observe the outcome. The notes were for just in case. Just in case of a dispute, or an extenuating circumstance, or something else that would cause the Game's results to be challenged. Things that happened once in a blue moon. No one was ever going to read these notes.

The bells on the door chimed, alerting him that someone had entered the shop, and he was glad for the excuse to put the reports down.

He was even gladder when he saw who was at the door. "Hey, Josh!"

"Mr. Hanekoma! See, I told you he could see us!" Joshua said to his partner, Mr. Santos, who greeted him with a bow.

Mr. Hanekoma hadn't seen him since the day his previous partner was erased. He knew bits and pieces of what had been going on from his communications with the Author, and from various tidbits gathered from his Reaper customers. Still, it was good to hear from Joshua directly. Motioning for his guests to sit down, he offered, "Coffee?"

"I don't have any money," Joshua said.

"Don't worry about it this time," said Sanae. He considered telling Joshua that his mother had paid enough to cover his tab and a new cup for both Joshua and Mr. Santos, but he thought that might just upset him. Instead, he got to preparing Joshua's usual and took Mr. Santos's order.

When their coffee was finished and served, Sanae came around to the other side of the bar and took a seat beside Joshua. "So. What's been going on?"

"Well," said Joshua solemnly, "we're down to four of us."

Mr. Santos looked down at his coffee sadly.

"Sorry to hear that," said Sanae.

"I'm worried about the remaining pair," Joshua admitted. "They've been civil to each other, but there's a lot of tension under the surface. I'm hoping they'll be able to finish their half of the mission."

"Any reason you're not helping them?"

"The mission was to sell a certain number of CD's," said Joshua, holding out his hand to show Sanae. "And, well, we're going to head back out there in a bit. But we noticed there was no wall blocking Cat Street and… I thought we could benefit from a bit of rest."

Sanae smiled. "That's probably a good idea. Resting your mind creates a chance for more Imagination to flow. …And it's good to see you, at that."

Joshua smiled back. Such a rare smile. Such an innocent smile.

And it would be one of Joshua's last.

"…I haven't had much of a chance to pursue my goals," said Joshua seriously, as though he knew what Sanae had been thinking. "The missions have been requiring our full effort, especially now that we're down to four players. I suspect the Author may be distracting me from my goal intentionally, but that may well backfire on them. I can feel myself getting stronger. Perhaps they will come to regret strengthening me."

That wasn't true. No matter how much stronger Joshua got, it wouldn't be enough to match the Author's strength. Her very vibe was several frequencies higher than Joshua's – he'd never be able to overcome that disadvantage.

But Sanae, as a "living person," shouldn't have known that. So Sanae said nothing. And Joshua pretended not to be bothered by his silence.

"I can't turn back now," said Joshua, a retort to an argument Sanae hadn't made.

Sanae could have argued back. But, he realized, it was futile. Joshua wasn't going to give up. He was going to challenge the Author, and he was going to get erased, and Sanae didn't want their friendship to end on bad terms. So, instead of arguing, he said, "I understand."

Still, the silence in the air was heavy. It was Mr. Santos who finally broke it. Slapping his hand on his lap, he sat up straight and said, "Well, right then. Mr. Hanekoma, if you would be so kind as to allow me to use your kitchen, why don't I make us all some lunch?"

Sanae had to admit he was impressed by the Imagination emanating from Mr. Santos as he cooked. This is what people were meant to do - to follow their hearts, pursue their passions, whatever those passions may be.

"I am almost positive this is some sort of food safety code violation," Joshua said, referring to the fact that outside food was being cooked by a customer in the commercial kitchen.

"Almost positive?" Sanae teased. "Joshua, that almost sounds like an admission that you might be wrong. Never thought I'd see the day."

Joshua pouted. "I can admit when I might be wrong. …I just rarely am."

Both Sanae and Mr. Santos laughed at that, causing Joshua to pout more. The garlicky scent of Mr. Santos's homemade broth wafted through the kitchen, and Joshua couldn't help getting a little closer. "Is that a shio broth?" he asked, with all the eagerness of someone who hadn't eaten in several days. Probably because he hadn't.

Mr. Santos nodded as he stirred, sniffing the air. "I wish I had the ingredients to make my shoyu broth. But I hope this will not disappoint you."

"Don't be humble," said Joshua. "I, personally, find the simple taste of shio broth to be the superior partner to the bulk of the soup, complementing the natural flavor of each component, imbuing the vegetables, meat, and noodles with flavor without overwhelming their natural appeal. I do not normally make a habit of dining at establishments whose owners disregard food safety regulations, but I may have been persuaded to make an exception by the mere scent of this broth."

"Spoken like a true connoisseur," said Mr. Santos merrily, still keeping his attention on his broth.

It was a strange kind of melancholy to watch the exchange. Joshua must have let the imprint affect him. Open your world. That had obviously happened here; Mr. Santos had reached out to Joshua, and Joshua had let him in. He'd seemed to have cared for Manako, too. Finally, finally, he was learning.

And he would be gone by this time tomorrow.

But did that mean the lesson hadn't been worth learning at all? No, he thought, answering his own question. Life was short for almost everyone in the grand scheme of things, but didn't moments like this make it all worth it?

But the moment didn't last, and soon the two Players were leaving with Styrofoam cups, usually used for to-go orders of bouillabaisse soup, full of steaming broth. "We should get back out," Mr. Santos had said apologetically as everything was packed up. "It seems the other two need a bit more help with selling CD's."

Sanae stood in the doorway, waving them off. Mr. Santos forged ahead, and Joshua started to follow – only to pause, turn back, take in one last look at the café, at Sanae, at the stray cats watching from the front steps. Then, nonchalantly, he turned back to catch up to Mr. Santos.

"Joshua! Wait!" Sanae called.

Joshua froze, and slowly turned back. "Yes, Mr. Hanekoma? Do you have something to say?"

Only what he should've said a long time ago. "Just that… you're a good kid. And I'm glad I met you."

Another smile. "I'm glad, too."

And then he was gone.

And Sanae was back on his front porch, watching with his cats, wondering if there was something weightier he should have said. But death and erasure were mundane and necessary, and Joshua's would be no different.