A/N: Just realised I had never posted this here. Wrote it a few weeks ago for the twewy ldws (last drabble writer standing) community on LiveJournal (and I've made it to the final round of their first contest -- whee!).  The prompt was "Viva la...".

On another note, this is set sometime pre-game.

Irony

"Viva la vida!"

Joshua doesn't bother much with cheery sayings, but he smiles at this one. Long live life. It's amusing him, mainly because it's printed on a t-shirt worn by a boy who's recently died. Joshua rarely takes much interest in individual Players, but the irony here is too good to miss.

To the boy's credit, he and his partner put up a good fight. Viva la vida -- it's a bright, optimistic battle-cry for both of them all week, as they struggle through a world designed, essentially, to screw them over. They have hopes, dreams, friends to fight for; if there's any justice, they're sure they'll win.

Joshua knows that there isn't, of course, and on the sixth day, the boy and his partner discover this. It's a simple mission -- reach Cat Street -- or it would be simple, if not for the towering purple elephant Noise they find blocking their path. And again, Joshua smiles, this time at the looks on their faces.

He doubts he would have returned them to life anyway. He's been thinking lately that it's hardly worth it, that Shibuya's hardly worth it. He's sick of people believing they're entitled to that second chance; maybe next time around, whatever these Players' souls become will better understand just how insignificant they and their wants really are. Viva la vida -- life will live long, but that's life on a universal level. On an individual level... not so much.

It's over in an instant. Cheerful mottoes have nothing on a creature that can knock a person flat just by stomping its feet. The partners dissolve into static, one a few seconds after the other, and Joshua laughs softly as a thought occurs to him. On an individual level, he thinks, that about sums it up... now, how would one say it?

Ah, yes. Aloud, he murmurs, "Viva la muerte."

Long live death.

A/N: As always, any thoughts are welcome.  Also, in case anyone reading this still cares, I swear Quis Custodiet has not been abandoned.  Chapter five has hit a few snags, and grad school doesn't give me as much time to work on lengthy writing projects as the summer does, but it's still in the works.  Promise!