Re:newal
An attempt to try out some drabbling stuff for TWEWY ahahahaha. Haven't touched the game for a while already, so forgive whatever mistakes I make. orz I fail.
Trust your partner.
Once upon a time, Joshua had believed in those words too.
Trust your partner. Three so very simple words, but yet the implications and workings behind them were so much more. In such a cruel reality like the Reaper’s Game, it was simply every player for himself or for herself. Fight or be defeated. Struggle or be Erased. Survive or be wiped away from existence. Kill or be killed. A dog-eat-dog world, a never ending struggle for power. In a sense, the Reaper’s Game in the Underground was just like how life in the Realground was; nothing but a continuous fight against each other to get to the top in one form or another. Somehow, somewhere, there was always that fight to be the best.
The survival of the fittest-one of nature’s most efficient, but also yet one of the most brutal laws that ever existed.
Every mountain had its peak-that was a fact that Joshua knew well. Even though he was the Composer of Shibuya, lord almighty of one whole place for himself with nobody to oppose him and with everything under his control and so on and so forth, even he could not match the Angels. He was but a mere pawn, just as all the other Composers were to them. Just one part of the whole giant chessboard that spanned across the world, all hidden by under one simple frequency.
It was almost laughable, really.
Trust your partner.
After having been Composer of this place for so long, Joshua had already long forgotten who his partner was-he only remembered some vague details, but anything more than that were simply beyond his grasp. Like wind slipping through his fingertips; it felt tangible, but yet he knew it wasn’t. Such an awfully tricky thing, memory was.
So tricky it could fool even the best of minds. Just like dear old Neku.
The mere thought of that name made him remember the events of that one game. The game that had changed him, and with him had changed Shibuya completely; no longer did he hear the discord and brokenness of the music that was his kingdom. Now all he could hear was the constant symphony of all as one, the beat of togetherness, the accord of everyone opening up in the city and letting their thoughts mingle with one another in the heart and soul where Imagination resided in.
Trust your partner.
He knew how much Neku had clung to those words even until the bitter end when he had shot him once again, those words that Hanekoma had taught him, just as the Producer had taught him when he was a Player himself. But unlike Neku, Joshua knew he had lost the lessons he learned from those words-those three deceptively simple words. But through that trust and belief in those words, he had changed-changed in more ways than Joshua had thought possible for someone like him to change. And through Neku, it had let him, the almighty Composer of Shibuya, see something that he hadn’t seen for a good long while.
Hope.
Hope for humanity, hope for change. Hope for a future so bright.
Poetic, he knew. But there was no better way of putting it.
As he looked down from his spot from the rooftop of 104 down to the cafe where the four from that Game were currently hanging out with one another and enjoying a nice sunny Thursday, the Composer thought on those three words once more.
Trust your partner.
Maybe, just maybe. He could start to believe in those words again.
Trust your partner.
Once upon a time, Joshua had believed in those words too.
Trust your partner. Three so very simple words, but yet the implications and workings behind them were so much more. In such a cruel reality like the Reaper’s Game, it was simply every player for himself or for herself. Fight or be defeated. Struggle or be Erased. Survive or be wiped away from existence. Kill or be killed. A dog-eat-dog world, a never ending struggle for power. In a sense, the Reaper’s Game in the Underground was just like how life in the Realground was; nothing but a continuous fight against each other to get to the top in one form or another. Somehow, somewhere, there was always that fight to be the best.
The survival of the fittest-one of nature’s most efficient, but also yet one of the most brutal laws that ever existed.
Every mountain had its peak-that was a fact that Joshua knew well. Even though he was the Composer of Shibuya, lord almighty of one whole place for himself with nobody to oppose him and with everything under his control and so on and so forth, even he could not match the Angels. He was but a mere pawn, just as all the other Composers were to them. Just one part of the whole giant chessboard that spanned across the world, all hidden by under one simple frequency.
It was almost laughable, really.
Trust your partner.
After having been Composer of this place for so long, Joshua had already long forgotten who his partner was-he only remembered some vague details, but anything more than that were simply beyond his grasp. Like wind slipping through his fingertips; it felt tangible, but yet he knew it wasn’t. Such an awfully tricky thing, memory was.
So tricky it could fool even the best of minds. Just like dear old Neku.
The mere thought of that name made him remember the events of that one game. The game that had changed him, and with him had changed Shibuya completely; no longer did he hear the discord and brokenness of the music that was his kingdom. Now all he could hear was the constant symphony of all as one, the beat of togetherness, the accord of everyone opening up in the city and letting their thoughts mingle with one another in the heart and soul where Imagination resided in.
Trust your partner.
He knew how much Neku had clung to those words even until the bitter end when he had shot him once again, those words that Hanekoma had taught him, just as the Producer had taught him when he was a Player himself. But unlike Neku, Joshua knew he had lost the lessons he learned from those words-those three deceptively simple words. But through that trust and belief in those words, he had changed-changed in more ways than Joshua had thought possible for someone like him to change. And through Neku, it had let him, the almighty Composer of Shibuya, see something that he hadn’t seen for a good long while.
Hope.
Hope for humanity, hope for change. Hope for a future so bright.
Poetic, he knew. But there was no better way of putting it.
As he looked down from his spot from the rooftop of 104 down to the cafe where the four from that Game were currently hanging out with one another and enjoying a nice sunny Thursday, the Composer thought on those three words once more.
Trust your partner.
Maybe, just maybe. He could start to believe in those words again.