Sanae was gone. Gone to trial.
Joshua didn't see why Sanae's crimes against him should be any business of the so-called "Higher Ups," but that was how it was.
Taking into account the Taboo Noise that were still infesting the city, the recent upheaval of the entire Reaper hierarchy, and Joshua's current weakened state, it had been deemed necessary to assign Shibuya a temporary Producer.
Joshua had no interest in speaking to her, but she found him on top of the 104 building where he was perched, watching the city below. She looked humanlike - appearing as an ordinary elderly woman in a silk kimono in every aspect save the brilliant white wings that now unfurled from her back.
"I didn't know you still existed," Joshua said in lieu of a greeting. "But I suppose I should have been able to figure it out. Erasure isn't always permanent."
"Nothing is permanent. And there are many things you still don't know," said the former Author of Shibuya. Her voice lacked its former resonant quality, but maintained its confidence. "I almost miss the curious boy you used to be. You and that notebook of yours. Despite all the trouble you caused me."
Joshua said nothing to that.
"You ought to pick up a notebook again," she continued. "But it's not all about questions and answers. Not the kind of answers you used to seek, anyway - the kind of answers where there's a right and a wrong. The truest answers are the ones you discover yourself - through poetry. Or music, if that's still what you prefer."
Joshua had no reply, and she changed the subject. "Shibuya has changed, hasn't it?"
Joshua looked at her, feeling, for some reason, defensive. "What's your point?"
She responded as if she hadn't noticed his tone. "I'll always have a fondness for the city as it once was. But I'm fond of the city as it is now, too. Some changes are necessary. And these changes are good."
Joshua kept his expression neutral, though he had not, in fact, expected her to say that.
"You always thought I was too stubborn to modernize, didn't you?" she continued, as if reading his mind. Maybe she was reading his mind - he suspected that the "Higher Ups" had the ability to do something like that. Maybe even Sanae.
She went on, "That's the blindness of youth speaking. I kept the things I liked, yes; I never changed things just for the sake of being new. But when new things came along that were refreshing, improvements, it was always my policy to embrace change whole-heartedly.
"Put it this way. It's impressive to be able to hold a note for a long time. But everyone, even the most talented, has to take a breath at some point. And even if it was possible, what's the beauty in a single note? Every note, short or long, working together – that's what creates the beauty of a melody. My time in Shibuya was just one note in a beautiful song. I'm proud of the part I played. But the end was not only inevitable, but necessary. On the Higher Plane, I can hear the whole song. I have no regrets, nor resentment."
"I thought you were a poet," Joshua said imperiously, still not looking at her. "You don't need to translate everything into musical metaphors for me, you know. I am quite sure I can grasp literary references."
She laughed. "Do you really think I can only work in one medium? Just as you possess an appreciate for literature, and fashion, and even cartoons – I, too, am capable of appreciating and even practicing more than one art form."
He sensed something shift behind him then, and turned to look at her to see that she had lowered her vibe. She now appeared wingless and much younger, long black hair let down blowing gently in the breeze.
And her now-smoothe face was one he recognized.
That explains a lot, he thought, and felt a little foolish for not having realized before, but he kept his face straight.
"I am quite adaptable," said the former Author of Shibuya, Kawano Shiori. "I had to be. How else do you think I delivered my city through two world wars?"
Joshua hmphed. He didn't acknowledge her subtle chiding - the implicit mention of all the things he lacked. Experience. Perspective. Adaptability. He thought he'd been humbled enough.
"Sanae will be all right," said the Author, the slightest hint of fondness in her tone. "What he did wasn't about you, you know. It was all because he loved Shibuya."
"I know," said Joshua.
And though things would never be the same again, when he looked at the city below - the sinking sun, the neon lights, that perfect blend of souls that simply didn't exist anywhere else - Joshua couldn't hate him for it.
Author's note: That moment when you write a fanfiction about endings, and you don't know how to write endings. (Maybe if I actually finished things more often, that wouldn't be such a problem for me hah.)
So at one point, several years ago when I first had the idea to write this fanfic, I buried myself in some highly specific historical research to come up with an extensive bio of the Author of Shibuya. Then my laptop died and I lost all my notes.
Anyway, thanks for reading. :)