Neku sat listless, holding the limp, cold hand of his friend and weathering the storm that Sanae was casting over the entire room. No...the entire house was feeling his dark thunderous rage concealed by the rains of his sorrow and the ever-present feeling of utter helplessness. Neku's own anxieties ate away at the atmosphere, ripping and tearing into the vigil's calm, rending it into ribbons of tension.
The body in the bed did not move. Did not even twitch. The thin frame lay like a corpse waiting to be hauled off to the morgue, The eyes closed almost peacefully, face lax, the ashen locks even ceased to wave in the light breeze that poured in from the window next to the bed. Eerie rasps were the only thing keeping the two beings in the room positive that the body was still alive.
Yes...the body was alive. But Neku debated about the mind inside. The teen never thought things could be worse than when Apollo first showed his ugly face back at WildKat. He was gravely mistaken. The snarky bastard that he'd befriended had been swallowed by a pit so deep, even sound refused to penetrate the depths, and the one responsible just laughed at his misery and kept digging that hole even deeper. Rage boiled in the young man's gut, feeling hot and cold at the same time. The guilt that choked his throat gave way to icy defiance and a boiling want for vengeance.
With a sigh forced through clenched teeth, Neku Sakuraba finally made a move, pushing himself upward and slowly running his hand across the forehead of what used to be the most powerful being in Shibuya, not even flinching when he felt the clammy brow. There was no response but he wasn't looking for one. Instead, he turned away, walking determinedly to the kitchen, where his supplies waited.
As the proxy prepared a meal for both the Angel and the patient, his brows set in a look of pure determination and resolve as his mind silently ground out his next course of action, one that this time….would have no chance of backfiring. He was going to make the Higher Being regret even laying eyes on the skinny ash-blond, and he was going to do it with as much style and grit as the Composer himself.
"Hang in there, Josh."
He felt rather than heard the silent steps of the other house guest as he entered the kitchen, and stood right behind the cooking teen. The chef didn't look up, but instead sighed heavily, pouring the water out of the broccoli strainer as he acknowledged the older being's presence with a nod. Words seemed pointless to the teen, his mind set firmly on his task. He barely registered the light touch on his shoulder, the warm comfort emanating from the Producer, or the soft voice that tried penetrating his newly erected defenses.
"Don't know what you're cooking up in that head of yours, Phones, but at this point, we might as well rely on our pact. You know the one. As much as I want you to live the rest of your life, I don't want you living like this. It might be time to step up. J...he isn't…" the voice cracked "He isn't fit enough anymore. Shibuya needs you, Neku Sakuraba...and I know you know what that means."
The noodles went in next, the steam drowning out the ginger's frustrated exhale of air as he lifted his chin to the sky for a second, then shook his head in frustration. "It means you're giving up, old man." he said sharply, "That's what that nonsense you spewed out just now told me."
Sanae ran a hand through his hair, "You just don't get it. Phones...Joshua's state right now-"
"—is temperary!" The meat went into the pot with a bang, startling the angel a bit. The water sizzled as Neku added seasonings, but he didn't miss a beat with his words. "Whatever the hell Shiki did to him can be fixed! That isn't what I'm focused on right now, though. I know about his wings. All we need to do is ask Seraph to fix them. Simple. But again, that isn't my priority. Asshole is."
Sanae was taken aback as the dinner was cobbled together with such ferocity, the kid's words punctuating every movement, all the gestures snapping in a way that made it very clear what Neku's state of mind was at the moment. The defeat melted from the man at that moment, the worry he felt before crumpled itself in the back of his mind. Something about the kid...had changed. That change...is affecting me, too. Damn, kiddo...your determination is infectious!
The Producer adjusted his glasses "Alright, Phones...you have my attention."
TWEWYTWEWYTWEWYTWEWY
She had gotten herself into quite the pickle. Her best friend assured her that she'd done the right thing by rescuing Neku from the awful situation he had gotten into, though Eri didn't know the full story or the details surrounding it. Somehow though, this confirmation didn't make the ache in Shiki's chest leave, nor did it make her nausea go away.
So she took some time to wander Shibuya to think. She passed by Pork City, the white walls reflecting the sun onto the pavement. Why don't I feel the warmth? She shook her head and continued to wander, her mind everywhere but on recent events. She clutched Mister Mew as a flash of orange hair caught the corner of her eye before getting swallowed by HMX Records. She hung her head, turning away from the store with tears welling up in her eyes.
I've messed up...Oh Neku…
She ran. No idea where she wanted to run to, the girl just wanted to get away from the area...from the vision of Neku...from everything. She ran and ran, past Mexican Dog, through the Scramble, up Udagawa's staircases, then turned around and headed to Cat Street. Help me...Mister H. Please, please don't shut me out too.
Her pleas went unheard, as the shop was completely closed off. She sank to her knees, her trembling increasing as she hugged her knees to her chest and cried, tears wettiung the sidewalk. Her sobs reacheda shadow that had been following her ever since she tore down the Crossing. The shadow calmly reached her and put its hand on her whoulder. She looked up, and her eyes widened in suprise.
"Come on...Shiki."
She didn't look him in the eyes as he slowly helped her to her feet, and then he drew her into a soft hug, his head on her own. She sobbed into his chest, staining his purple shirt with her waterworks. He sighed and shook his orange head, saying nothing as he rubbed her back. It was ok, she didn't need words from him. All she needed, he was providing.
I don't deserve this...But thank you, Neku…
He pulled away, his blue eyes hard, but not towards her. He sneered, an unkind, malicious expression also not aimed at her. Therefore it could only mean one thing, and she nodded slowly, joining him as he headed for the slums part of town. There needed to be no talking between them. He was on a mission. She was duty-bound to help him, and she'd be damned if she screwed up again.
After all...she needed to atone.