an itch that can’t be scratched.
@dhxrma
It wasn’t the fact that, while he had painstakingly orchestrated every single component--even scribbles written down as parts of a script--of his master plan all those years ago, the plan blew up in his face, that was the most surprising. No, what was most surprising was the very tool he used to implement the whole process ended up taking the place of the person he betted against. And yes, while it was meant to be “temporary”, it still provided the shock of the century. Perhaps even the millennium, the jury was still out.
And it wasn’t too shocking that they got along for the most part. After all, they had been effective partners in the game, and trust your partner goes a long way. What was perhaps the most shocking, and truly horrifying when he dwelled on it for too long--but he rarely did, because observing weaknesses and actual thoughts like that were problematic--was that there was some semblance of a friendship after all these years. Even if he was the most insufferable boss to exist (which he knew, too). When it came down to it, he was just genuinely surprised Neku was still around. Any other person would have taken the first train out of Shibuya. Any sane person would have outright refused the job offer, Joshua often mused. But Neku was a rarity. Which made him such an exceptional proxy in the first place. Yet, after all these years, of growing older and developing an unspoken level of trust that mirrored the game, there was still an itch. Itch likely wasn’t the right word, but it was the closest Joshua could get to describing it. Something was off. Something wasn’t exactly right. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not knowing things, especially when they were his own things. And that itch had been growing increasingly lately (maybe it was the season? the cold? the holidays?) to a point where it was grating on his nerves. Which is probably why, on such a fine day, Joshua was more insufferable than usual. To be exact, he was curled up on the edge of a couch in the Pad, dangling a piece of string with something on the end of it, above the glass floor, utterly tormenting his poor “pets.” It wasn’t a game week, and there weren’t any pressing matters to attend to, so maybe it was the boredom getting to him. Or maybe it was that itch. Either way, he was doing his best to annoy everyone, and everything, around him until they felt just as uncomfortable as he did.