“i-I just-” Just what? Every word he spoke only made things worse. The hole he’d dug himself into got deeper and deeper every time he tried to open his damn mouth, but what else could he do? Though Neku was no longer stuck behind invisible walls, he felt more trapped than ever. He felt suffocated, each word another attempt to catch his breath, only for his throat to tighten even more.
He’d come in here with a plan- a vague plan, but a plan nevertheless. He’d just wanted to make sure the man wasn’t up to anything overly sinister. He’d just wanted to make sure his friends stayed out of this. He’d come in feeling so in control, but now? He felt worthless. He was a hindrance to his own cause. All he could hope to do now was try to undo some of the damage he’d done, but even that seemed hopeless.
The shopkeeper wouldn’t even give him a moment to think- to breathe- going on and on, poking holes in every little thing the teenager said. He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and shout until he just shut up, but he knew it would only bring him some sick kind of satisfaction. He could feel the corners of his eyes burning as his body begged to let him cry out of pure frustration, his heart racing so fast he could feel himself getting lightheaded-
The shop was dead silent besides the two of them, but everything suddenly felt so loud as the painfully familiar ringing noise flooded his eardrums. His breathing became more rapid, shaky hands grabbing the headphones that lay around his neck and shoving them over his ears, as if they would help to dull the noise. Deep breaths. In, out. Slowly but surely, the ringing subsided, leaving Neku staring at the man in front of him with a pained expression on his face. Whatever he said next, he had to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t afford to mess up anymore. He couldn’t afford to lose.
“…I just trust The Composer, all right? Which is more than I can say about you Reapers. Rules exist for a reason, and I don’t want someone in charge who can’t understand that.” A small pause, as he tested the weight of his words. They weren’t anything too groundbreaking, but he was satisfied with them, at least. “And as for what scarred me, it wasn’t The Composer crushing Minamimoto to death for trying to overthrow him, if that’s what you’re asking. That was nothing.” A little leak of information, but hopefully it wouldn’t be anything useful. He hoped it would deter him from trying right away, at the very least.
“What really scarred me was the bullet He put in my chest when I thought about taking him out.” He really hated talking Joshua up like this, but it was all he could think of to do at the moment. Besides, he technically wasn’t lying. He had considered pulling the trigger. “So yeah, I guess you could say we’re close. Killing someone is probably about as personal as it gets.”
Did he finally understand now? Letting the pinkette’s words dig deep, looking into each action and reply to the point of absurdity. Finding reasons to hate and fight when they weren’t even there, instead happy to slap the title of enemy against someone that happened to be a Reaper without proper reasoning.
Well, proper reasoning outside of past experiences.
Watching the little world that this explayer had concocted, so certain of his whatever plan he planned to enact when he got here, shake and tumble.
Only to see it all crumble away, his frustration and thoughts seeming to rise higher and higher as he was bombarded by words he did not wish to hear, explanations that undermined his understanding and gave away his inexperience.
But it was too much, it seemed, to be so thoroughly spun around over and over.
Eyes staring down in an unimpressed stare, the sight before him one he’d seen many times. Players breaking under the truth of words, learning what really was meant far too late. A staple of his missions, in fact, mission objectives worded in such a way to allow for certain misunderstandings to occur, piling further and further up until those that had made it to the end of the week were a swaying tower.
And all it took was one poke before they would come crashing down.
“...” A sigh, shaking his head as the other clutched to the safety blanket that was his headphones as whatever episode ran its course. “The invincible Neku, conqueror of three consecutive weeks. Unable to take the truth of one man.” Shame, he’d expect his mental fortitude to be better than this.
Turning as Neku looked up to him, cutting away one source of discomfort as he walked to the front of his store; hand raised to turn the ‘OPEN’ to ‘CLOSED’. “Sit.” Spoken in passing, accompanied by a point to the chair nearest to him, if his word didn’t pierce his headphones. Walking behind the counter, a new glass taken and filled with simple water, walking back around and holding it out for him to take.
If he wouldn’t, it would remain held out, seemingly not taking ‘no’ for much of an answer at the moment.
Eyebrow quirked at that, a roll of his eyes. “And what if that Composer was originally a Reaper, Neku? Would you still be so trusting, knowing that the one you trust comes from the same stock of people you can’t trust?” It was possible that was the case with this Composer, but he couldn’t say he knew. A speculation at best, but it wasn’t as if that was an impossible occurrence.
He knew that there those that could ascend to that higher plane that was still out of his reach.
A wave of his hand at the mention of Minamimoto. “You’ve killed Reapers before. What makes seeing someone else do it any different?” So casual, how he spoke. But there was no fallacy within it. He’d won his games. He’d killed those reapers, ended their own life for the furthering of his own.
It should be expected he didn’t care for the death of yet another Reaper.
And yet, as he spoke on, there was a clear lack of understanding happening. “Close? Oh Neku, you’re more than that, based on this.” Free hand raised up, slowly counting off on his fingers. “The Composer let you have the chance to kill him. Usually, no one would have that luxury unless they fought for it with all they had, and that would only give them the chance.”
Another finger uncurled. “You know his name. That type of information could be very dangerous.”
A third. “He’s let you remain with your memories, your experiences, and your knowledge. While players could normally have that boon regardless....the fact you know as much as you do about the Game itself would usually require some work before letting you back out into the world.”
Smiling, fingers curling back down so that only his index finger was pointing to the ginger.
“If anything, you might be the person that’s closest to the Composer, with how much favor he seems to show you.” Before his hand turned to show his palm. “Which would usually mean people would be very interested in what you know, and might hound you for it, if they ever come to learn it.”
A hum, hand coming down to rest on his waist. “So, if that’s the case, and any Reaper starts bugging you, come tell me. I’ll sort out the troublemakers.”
