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GIVE ME DRABBLE PROMPTS
I'm currently writing The World Ends With You AU drabbles, but, uh. I want more ideas, because I cannot think of them. Stuff like Devil May Cry, Supernatural, Iron Man, Newsies, Speed Racer, Tales of Symphonia—because the sequel's coming out soon!—and hell, Star Wars: Force Unleashed, if anyone's even played that besides me.
Neku isn’t sure if he wants to throw up or just break out into hysterical laughter, so he settles for gaping so much it feels like his mouth is about to come unhinged. Kind of like the freaking situation. “You—” He tries again. “You’re the Composer?”
“Don’t gotta look so surprised, yo.” For his part, Beat looks pretty miserable. His hands are deep in his pockets, and he sighs as he hangs his head. “Ya think I want this?”
Joshua chuckles. “My, my,” he says. “I never would have seen that one coming.”
“Shut the hell up,” Neku snaps, but for once he isn’t repressing the urge to throttle his obnoxious … well, friend. Maybe someday when the world was finished screwing with him he’d have time to reflect on the fact that someone could be your friend when you weren’t anything like them, when you didn’t even like them—but not if they turned out to be…
“But Beat,” Shiki says, her voice so soft it’s barely coming in over Neku’s jumbled thoughts. “What about Rhyme?”
Beat’s head jerks up. “There ain’t no Rhyme.”
“I don’t believe that,” Shiki insists. There’s tears in her eyes, and Neku would tell her to give it a rest, except for one thing—he agrees with her. “I knew her, Beat, there’s no way she wasn’t real.”
“That—a confusion, that’s all.” Beat’s screwed up his face into a cartoonish frown and he stares straight at the ground. “Nothin’ more’n that, man. Confusion.”
“It was—wait,” Neku stops. That that makes no sense at all. “What?”
“I think the poor guy means to say illusion,” Joshua muses, a slight smile on his face. It means he knows something the rest of them don’t. “Beat,” he says. “Why did you end up becoming the Composer? Why did you defeat the previous one?”
“It don’t matter!” Beat shouts, and around them the lighting wavers slightly. “Look, ya don’t think I don’t wanna jus’ let you guys go? ‘Cause I wanna. But there be rules, yo, there all kinda rules I just gotta follow, aight?”
“But Beat,” Shiki says. “You can’t—”
Beat kicks his board and flips it up into his hands. “Lissen, man,” he says, pointing the makeshift weapon straight at Neku. “We gotta do this, yo. You an’ me.”
Neku reflexively starts to refuse—and he almost bites his tongue slamming his mouth shut so quick. This is never going to end, but if it’s going to—it has to be now. “Fine,” he says. He clenches his pins in his fist, and he makes sure to look Beat in the eye. “Let’s do this.”
Beat tries to smile, but it falls flat on his face.
WHAT WAS THAT
I'm currently writing The World Ends With You AU drabbles, but, uh. I want more ideas, because I cannot think of them. Stuff like Devil May Cry, Supernatural, Iron Man, Newsies, Speed Racer, Tales of Symphonia—because the sequel's coming out soon!—and hell, Star Wars: Force Unleashed, if anyone's even played that besides me.
Neku isn’t sure if he wants to throw up or just break out into hysterical laughter, so he settles for gaping so much it feels like his mouth is about to come unhinged. Kind of like the freaking situation. “You—” He tries again. “You’re the Composer?”
“Don’t gotta look so surprised, yo.” For his part, Beat looks pretty miserable. His hands are deep in his pockets, and he sighs as he hangs his head. “Ya think I want this?”
Joshua chuckles. “My, my,” he says. “I never would have seen that one coming.”
“Shut the hell up,” Neku snaps, but for once he isn’t repressing the urge to throttle his obnoxious … well, friend. Maybe someday when the world was finished screwing with him he’d have time to reflect on the fact that someone could be your friend when you weren’t anything like them, when you didn’t even like them—but not if they turned out to be…
“But Beat,” Shiki says, her voice so soft it’s barely coming in over Neku’s jumbled thoughts. “What about Rhyme?”
Beat’s head jerks up. “There ain’t no Rhyme.”
“I don’t believe that,” Shiki insists. There’s tears in her eyes, and Neku would tell her to give it a rest, except for one thing—he agrees with her. “I knew her, Beat, there’s no way she wasn’t real.”
“That—a confusion, that’s all.” Beat’s screwed up his face into a cartoonish frown and he stares straight at the ground. “Nothin’ more’n that, man. Confusion.”
“It was—wait,” Neku stops. That that makes no sense at all. “What?”
“I think the poor guy means to say illusion,” Joshua muses, a slight smile on his face. It means he knows something the rest of them don’t. “Beat,” he says. “Why did you end up becoming the Composer? Why did you defeat the previous one?”
“It don’t matter!” Beat shouts, and around them the lighting wavers slightly. “Look, ya don’t think I don’t wanna jus’ let you guys go? ‘Cause I wanna. But there be rules, yo, there all kinda rules I just gotta follow, aight?”
“But Beat,” Shiki says. “You can’t—”
Beat kicks his board and flips it up into his hands. “Lissen, man,” he says, pointing the makeshift weapon straight at Neku. “We gotta do this, yo. You an’ me.”
Neku reflexively starts to refuse—and he almost bites his tongue slamming his mouth shut so quick. This is never going to end, but if it’s going to—it has to be now. “Fine,” he says. He clenches his pins in his fist, and he makes sure to look Beat in the eye. “Let’s do this.”
Beat tries to smile, but it falls flat on his face.
WHAT WAS THAT
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Oh god, they kind of would. I look forward to this. :D
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So she forgot about it.
Thirty minutes later, she and Eri had made it to Lapin Angelique and she saw him again. She got enough of a glimpse to tell it was a him, but then Eri had help up a dress saying, “Should we use a fabric like this in our next design?” And that quickly, as soon as Shiki took a step to get a better look at a possible stalker—Shibuya was a battleground, after all, a girl had to be careful—he was gone.
“Shiki?” Eri asked. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing,” Shiki said, smiling, and she went back to picking out tank tops.
When Eri had to go home to cram for exams, a couple hours later, she saw him again. She was sure he was the same kid, even though she hadn’t really seen what he looked like, the other times—she didn’t know how, either, but she was certain the second she saw him leaning up against the wall of the coffee shop on Cat Street, looking right at her with his arms folded across her chest.
A month ago, she might have slinked home, glancing over her shoulder.
Today she walked right up to him.
“Hey,” she said. For a second, she wished she could be a bit more like Neku. Or Beat, or even Eri—any of them could just come out and demand to know why she was being followed. But she was Shiki, and so she said, “Um, do I know you?”
The kid—who was kind of short and pretty well dressed, she noticed—smirked. And then she got it.
“Oh, you—you’re Neku’s friend.” And he was more than that, she couldn’t remember much, so much about those last minutes in the game were so fuzzy, and no one ever talked about it, but she remembered… “You’re—”
“No,” the kid said. “You’re Neku’s friend. I’m just…” He shrugged, gesturing vaguely at her and then the street and the people on it. “I’m just watching.”
Shiki shifted her feet awkwardly, it seemed rude to abandon this conversation this quickly, when she’d started it, but she just had no idea what she should say. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” she tried. “All the people here, they’re all so different and—”
“They’re all pretty stupid, aren’t they?”
“… What?”
The kid tilted his head. “They’ll all trying to stand out and be the most unique—but if everyone’s trying so hard, doesn’t that make you all the same?” He smiled. “Sorry, I meant all of them.” He gestured again.
Shiki scowled.
“Don’t get offended,” he said.
“Why not? You want me to.” She looked back out to the sea of people, most of them sporting the latest in Japanese fashion, lots of them with bleached hair and bright colored clothes. The entire crowd was chatting excitedly, almost everyone she could see was smiling. “Is there something wrong with everyone trying to figure out who they really are?”
He kept smiling at her, no matter what she said, and it wasn’t condescending, she didn’t think, but she didn’t know what it was. “Is that what they’re doing?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Hm.”
The awkwardness was back. It hadn’t really left. Shiki picked at her shirt in the silence. “So, um, what’s your name? I’m sorry, I don’t really remember it.”
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to worry about me following you, either, I was just wondering what …” He broke off and frowned, right then—it was the first time he’d stopped smiling.
“If you’re wondering about Neku,” she said, “you can just follow him, I’m seeing him and everyone else tomorrow.”
He looked at her for a second, and he grinned and said, “I don’t think Neku would like that very much.”
She made a mental note to ask Neku about that tomorrow, and ask what that kid’s name was. But for now … she stood there next to him and watched the crowd walk by. And when she turned her head to tell him, “Hey, despite everything, Shibuya’s pretty unique, isn’t it?” she was too late, he was already gone, and she hadn’t even seen him leave.
She’d have to remember to ask Neku about that, too.