Joshua's entry fee is his sight.
(The image of the Conductor laughing at him is here, even if it may just be imagination.)
"The most important thing to you," they call it, "the thing you value the most," and Joshua smiled because he valued nothing more than what was before him--
And like a snuffed candle it was stolen away.
There have probably been blind players before. The entry is determination, not descrimination. The value counted is imagination, not imagery.
But there isn't exactly a record of past candidates who failed. Most of them do. And he can say with some confidence that suddenly finding yourself sightless and attacked isn't an easy situation, even if you understood everything that was going on.
And Joshua did know exactly what was going on. He'd seen such hordes hound players to static since he was a child. He'd learned the rules by watching. He'd spotted walking obituaries in the streets. A mystery no one else could explain to him, one only he knew, and such important pieces hidden from him, and what else was he supposed to do but solve it--
This Game did not have a partner system. But Joshua does have a partner.
He hears the animal yelp before realizing the stinging burn on his shoulder has lessened, and a hand grabs his wrist. It drags him to his feet and then it drags him away. And in the shade (shadows, on his skin, a wooden bench) of a shop's awning, they hiss back and forth, hidden from view.
Joshua is happy enough to have had a moment to collect his bearings. It isn't abandonment when there was never any expectation of accompaniment. He is too busy being angry still, picturing the Conductor laughing. This, not any amount of self doubt, is what distracts him until the moment the other player touches his wrist again, and says, "okay. I'll guide you while we walk."
It is said with a certain softness. Pity, maybe, or protectiveness. Joshua can't say it wouldn't… be advantageous to have someone to help out while he got his bearings. Of course, he could be guided right into an open sewer, or the mouth of awaiting noise if he doesn't keep his guard up--
...but he isn't guided into an open sewer, or even bumped into any walls. The walking is slow, excruciatingly so, but they reach their destination intact.
When the noise appear, the other player points Joshua in the right direction and promises to handle any that come to flank them.
Soon enough, Josh learns how to listen and attacks noise before they finish forming.
When the mission arrives, delivered in a flutter of sharp wings, Joshua demands it is read out aloud, and holds the words in vices in his mind until he can parse them out.
His partner learns to announce which streets they are on and what shops they are passing. To warn where walls that they cannot pass through appear even though by sound all of Shibuya moves through them. Learns that if he simply hands Josh chopsticks and guides his other hand to each dish, there will be no leftovers to worry about. Learns that by day seven, Josh has started to hear where the walls are anyway, even though they make no sound.
(Josh only wishes he could've seen the Conductor's face when he tore his way to the crossing, using psychs to clear the area before him and in the same motion bring all the garbage of the city's scum to bear.)
He repays his partner by hauling him along back to life, when it became clear by day three they wouldn't have lasted on their own. The Game Master nearly accuses them of cheating when they come as a pair, trying to stir up infighting by claiming only one will get to revive--
That's fine. It doesn't move them an inch. Josh has worked too hard to die to waste it on coming back to life.
(Which is worse? If his partner dies again, months back into life, cut down too early with no third chances, no one to catch them when they fall? Or if his partner is able to grow up, and move away, and nothing changes? They live their life making few ripples in small ponds. When they die, it is somewhere far away from Shibuya, and they never spoke to Josh again.)
(...eventually, Josh learns all the secrets. Wins all the fights. Claws his way up to the tallest throne in the land, and surveys his domain. The world is set up like a diorama. He can move the pieces as he likes. He can make it better. He can cut out the cancers. He can make it great. )
(...but Shibuya is not a puzzle to be solved. Maybe that's why he eventually grows bored with it. Maybe that's why he finally, wearily decides to throw it all in the trash, where broken games belong.)
