joe.
“ Guess you’re right, ” Joe responds with a slight laugh, patting the top of the keychain’s head with his pinky. The Netpups that wander their home in the Netwalk are fantastic, wonderful, extremely therapeutic to play with on a daily basis, but… it’s hard to beat out the little accessory he’s loved from the start.
( It’s a present from his best bud, after all. Nothing can beat that! )
He listens intently despite not making any attempt at eye contact - or even looking to Neku at all - and nods. It’s definitely not like they’re alone in this situation, so employers (if they themselves weren’t swapped), but it might be fun to try his hand at whatever Neku’s been up to. Though, Joe supposes getting a job himself may give a similar feeling…
“ Ah… ”
Joe’s thoughts come to a halt, a slow march that hits a final note and ceases. The hands on his knees grip tight, digging nails into the skin and shoulders tense. It had definitely been too much to ask to avoid the topic; they’ve both seen each other’s memories, that much is certain.
( Death is ugly. Death is a horrible thing, but the idea of having a gun aimed at him thrice? Joe doesn’t understand the nonchalance behind Neku’s tone. He’s unsure if he ever will. )
Ankles cross and he deliberately turns his head away from Neku, as if looking at himself from the outside is going to give him far too much of an idea of what Sara everyone had to witness.
“ … G - Gotcha. Can I ask you to do the same? ”
Neku realizes too late that he may have screwed up, here.
It’s not normal—well, of course it isn’t, because a lot of things about Neku aren’t normal. Dying three times as if he isn’t merely human and should only die once; coming back to life three times, an impossible feat on its own; dealing with it like this, his voice ever composed even when he speaks as another. All of that isn’t something that normal people have to deal with, because they die once, and then, if some dumb city chooses to bring them back to life, they do exactly that.
Neku watches Joe as he reacts to his words, in some way more human and natural than brushing it off has ever been, and he winces, drawing back towards what empty space remains on his end of the bench. He listens, waiting for whatever answer may come, and—
“Yeah,” he replies. “Don’t worry.”
( Brilliant idea to say that when they’re talking about death, here. )
“… That… aside…” Neku sighs, looking away to avoid any initial reaction the other might have as he tries and changes topics.
“Did you have anything you needed me to do? Like a job, or… I don’t know, anything you wanted to mention while we were here?”
