“Comin’ right up,” he hollered, as if he actually knew for certain what this Beat’s preferred order was. His best shot was to brew a cup the way his world’s resident Skater Brain enjoyed it— but it was as good a shot as the worst, for there were no reliable means of predicting the exact differences and similarities between worlds.
Nonetheless, he’d go with it, and luckily Beat wouldn’t have to wait very long— cheeky as he was, Sanae’d already gone through the whole process of starting the espresso machine up and ensuring it was ready to pull proper shots, having made himself a cup when he’d first gotten there some hour ago prior.
As he slid the cup onto the drip tray with one hand, and grabbed for a portafilter with the other, he sensed Beat’s gaze on him. It was then that the youth asked about his previous whereabouts that Sanae learned that his alternate self hadn’t bothered to show up in the Realground yet.
He then drew in a shallow breath, proceeding with a prompt answer, deft hands moving to pack the grind and pull the shot therefrom. It dawned on him that he’d have to take away Beat’s memory of this encounter altogether, once it was over. All the words he had to say, the thanks he had to give, the encouragement he had to offer— Sanae’d have to pour them all down the drain, and Beat’d be left in the same state as he was before he set foot in the café. Of course, he knew he’d have had to tamper with his memories either way, but he hoped he’d at least get to sneak this one away as one of many with the Hanekoma here.
Man did he want to swing a bat at that guy’s head.
“Imprisoned, basically.” There was no use in being vague, not when Beat wouldn’t remember any of this. “Haven’t been able to come down here— or the UG, until now.” Oh did Sanae hope that only his tone was so acridly bitter.
When it was ready he took the cup, and with his grip and mouth closed tight and quivering, set it down in front of beat. “Believe me when I tell you,” he couldn’t bring himself to meet the latter’s eyes, “I wanted to be down here, more than anything else.” Wanted to keep any of it from happening, just as he did years before, and all the years before then.
Beat has no idea of anything that is going through Hanekoma's head. All he knows is that he's annoyed and pissed that this is the first time he's seen him after all of this time. What happened to the guy who'd looked out for them during the first Game? That's not to say that Beat was thrilled about having to depend on someone like that, but a little back up would have been great! How come Shibuya's supposed Guardian had let that fiery freak run rampant across Shibuya?
The foot of his good leg kicked idly. He needed some way to get this energy out of him or he was gonna go crazy. It wasn't enough to bore holes into him with his eyes as he worked.
It was weird being back here, though. The Game may have been years ago, but he could clearly remember sitting right here and eating some of the food that Hanekoma had prepared for him when he'd taken him in for a few days. Of course, it was hard to forget considering the reason why he'd been there.
But Rhyme and Neku were both okay now. It didn't make the bitter feeling go away, but it was a good thing to hold onto when he was feeling this worked up. It was over, it was all over, and yet even this “good thing” felt far away. They'd thought it was over years ago, so...
Beat sits up straighter when Hanekoma answers his question, shock clear in his eyes. Those bad feelings were replaced with confusion in a whiplash. "Wh—"
"Did Joshua do that?" Beat asked, tilting his head to the side just a little. Who else could? He still wasn't certain what the relationship between Joshua and Hanekoma was, but... there'd been something, right? Had Joshua wanted to wack him? He could vaguely remember talking with Neku about it.
"They can't arrest y'for the graffiti if you're CAT, right?" It was...unsettling to imagine Hanekoma getting arrested by anyone.
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