Author: D. Gelyn

Rating: Fic will eventually be rated Light M, but this first chapter is probably K

Characters: JoshuaXNeku

Warnings: AU. This fic will be rated M in a few chapters for Yaoi (although it will never be extremely explicit) and mild blood/violence. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own The World Ends with You

Summary: AU. Neku is not depressed; he is simply exhausted to his limit- tired of living in a world of people he cannot begin to comprehend. As fate would have it, Neku meets Joshua, a boy his age who hides behind a bright smile and sharp wit but is truly just as alone and lost. This is a chronicle of their journey, through friendship and into something far stronger.

AN: This is one of the many JoshuaXNeku drabbles I have been working on, except this one I managed to harness into a coherent fic once I gathered my thoughts. As you can probably see, it's divided into months, with a short scene from each. Chapters will most likely cover 2-3 months depending on length. Unfortunately this fic will take a backseat to schoolwork in the coming semester, so I can't be entirely certain how often I will be able to update. Let me know what you think!

At the Core

November.

Neku stands before a wall of graffiti, contemplating the swirling designs, reminiscent of a freedom he will never touch. A frigid wind blows through him, tearing at his clothes and searing his very bones, but he does nothing to protect himself from the harsh breeze. He can feel the steady approach of winter, heavy in the air. Another year is drawing to a close, and not a single thing has changed from the year before. Time passes in meaningless whorls, and as fall casts its dying rays, Neku finds himself wishing he could fade with the autumn, and follow winter's path into a world of senseless gray.

His fingernails scrape against the wall before him, as if to grasp on to one final strand of hope. But solid concrete will not be molded by human hands, and all Neku manages is to rub the flesh of his fingertips raw. He ignores the sting of broken skin, knowing soon it will all disappear.

December.

He trips twice again today, falling and grazing his palms on the rough surfaces with which he collides. As the days grow shorter, the nights longer and intensely colder, Neku's concentration wanes. His mind is afloat, somewhere in a far off place not a soul can touch. His heart too, has journeyed with the withering season, becoming almost unbearably heavy within his chest.

And Neku wants, more than anything else to be free of all his burdens- for life chains him to the ground and mocks him with the clouds drifting just out of reach. He's ready to rip away the bindings and find solace- something meaningful in the endless expanse of open cerulean sky.

January.

It's the first day of the new year, and the city for once sleeps, all of its inhabitants exhausted in the early morning after their night of jubilant celebration. Neku sneers, disgusted by the falsity, the blind eyes of a crowd that refuses to set themselves up against the stars and recognize how small, how unimportant they truly are. He wants nothing more than to shake them from that dream.

And so Neku finds himself once more, standing near the towering wall of graffiti that has so incensed his soul and mind into abrupt action. He nods at the colossal portrayal of all the world's well-meant lies, a silent salute and farewell.

Brushing vibrant orange hair out of determined blue eyes, Neku grasps the cold metal bars of the fire escape set into ancient crumbling brick. He climbs, each whisper of cloth against his skin and creak of steel reminding him of his purpose, spurring him onwards. At the top, he does not spare even a moment to glance around; he strides resolutely to the very edge, peering over the side at the steep drop that will surely send him tumbling into the embrace of loving darkness and sweet relief at last.

He gazes out, eyes sparking with a bare sliver of amusement before flickering back to stony withdrawal. He observes the swells of the city, the horrid man-made scars on the surface of the earth that had mothered them all.

Neku feels cold. A freezing breath that pours deeper than the wind can reach. He gazes scornfully at the city, slumbering peacefully, ignorant to its foundation of lies, which will certainly one day disintegrate beneath them.

Neku will have no part in that fall. He has decided to choose his own descent

Ocean eyes blazing with the desperate embers of life's stuttering flame, Neku spreads his arms at his sides, as if to embrace the world. For although it has not been kind, the earth was his beginning and - as all things in life must make a full revolution- will likewise be his end. It is only appropriate, he believes, to return the life he has borrowed to its maker.

He leans forward, ready to gain his freedom at last

Soft laughter, so gentle Neku almost mistakes it for another brush of icy wind, chimes and swirls in the air behind him.

Instantly Neku spins, sneakered feet nearly loosing traction on the rooftop and sending him plummeting. But Neku has no lust for death at the moment, his thoughts of freedom and living by his own will interrupted, if only for the time being, by the eerily echoing laughter.

Regaining his balance, Neku searches for the source of that distracting sound.
And not twenty paces away, perched on the opposite side of the flat rooftop, laughing merrily, is an angel.

Neku can hardly contain his gasp, and his stumble, balance overcome by disbelief.

Realization comes like ice water trailing down his spine.

He is dead. It's the only explanation. He must have already thrown himself from the building's ledge, and here was his otherworldly escort to whatever destination awaits.

Neku glances swiftly at the ground far below, expecting to see his own grotesquely broken frame. His eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion when he notices nothing astray, not a hint of blood marking the street multiple stories down.

"Well, are you going to jump or not?"

Neku's attention is caught once more by the ethereal being who sits, one slim leg crossed over the other, on the rooftop's westward ledge, pure white light pouring from his skin. He is the most beautiful boy-no, he is the most beautiful being Neku has ever seen.

But now, as the adrenaline that comes with imminent death begins to fade, and Neku's irregular heart beat calms to a smooth pace, the figure before him appears less unearthly.

As the boy swings his legs apart and leaps onto the concrete rooftop, the light that had once reflected gloriously off his skin vanishes, and Neku realizes with a sinking heart that he must be losing his mind

The boy is ordinary.

Just as human and undoubtedly flawed as all the sightless beings Neku despises- the ones he longs to escape from.

Neku glares as the fair haired boy approaches, his teeth grinding, a growl building steadily in his lungs.

"What are you doing up here?" He manages, almost civil if not for the frigid tone and slight hiss at the end.

The boy tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, and Neku notices that it is a strange mixture of hues- not quite golden enough to be blond, too light to pass as gray, but too colorful to be white.

"Watching you of course," the flaxen haired youth responds eloquently, his motions entirely too graceful as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his dark-washed jeans. His eyes flash with silent laughter as he meets Neku's gaze. "And may I inquire as to what you are doing up here, on top of a roof, looking as if you're teaching yourself to fly on the first day of this marvelous year?"

Neku's blue eyes narrow a fraction beneath bright orange fringe. "I think my intent is fairly obvious," he says shortly, turning back to gaze once again down upon the earth that beckons to him with open arms, promising solace and sleep.

The boy laughs. Just as softly and cheerfully as before- and Neku's thoughts are jarred again, his mind ripped from his purpose. He's torn, eyes flickering back despite himself to stare at the figure leaning casually against an air conditioning unit that had long been out of use.

"Yes you're right, how silly of me," the boy says, flashing a grin in Neku's direction. He taps his chin in mock thoughtfulness, "I suppose the better question is why are you here?"

Neku is frozen by those words, and against his conscious will, finds truth falling from his lips. He ponders absently if this boy could actually be some creature of divine origin- so easily prying honesty from Neku's normally firmly sealed lips. "I'm not free," he says simply. "And I won't be so long as I remain in this place." He waves a hand vaguely at the maze of city streets and towering buildings behind him.

Across from Neku, the pale-haired boy shuffles his feet and kicks distractedly at a few pieces of rubble that litter the rooftop, but his expression is thoughtful, and he considers Neku with a gaze that reflects both respect and disgust.

"Death is the only thing you control in life, right?" he says, voice somewhat flatter, smile dwindling to a faint smirk. But after a pause punctuated only by the sound of the two individuals breathing calmly, the boy's wicked grin returns. "Would you at least see the first night of the new year?" He pulls a single hand from the depths of his pocket, looking almost as if he wants to reach out, but the long fingers merely curl against his thigh. "Return tomorrow if you must, but give tonight a chance."

Neku wavers where he stands, poised on the edge of freedom, the soundless oblivion he has yearned for, but suddenly he is uncertain whether to proceed. The ground abruptly seems so far away.

And the boy with beautiful eyes is much closer.

"Hey, at least tell me your name," the boy says with a sigh, brushing that same wisp of hair out of his eyes, seeming unable to tame the gently curling strands.

Neku glares.

The violet eyed youth merely shrugs. "That way I'll be able to identify your mangled corpse for the police. Make their job easier, you know?"

Neku's eyebrows rise; he can't help but be somewhat disturbed by the mention of his mutilated remains while he is yet undamaged by the concrete deathbed far below. Nonetheless, he finds no arguable flaw in the boy's logic, so he mutters a monotone introduction into his high collar, burrowing beneath the tall folds.

"I'm Neku. Neku Sakuraba," he bites out through gritted teeth, feeling the beginnings of a migraine pulsing in his brow- certainly a result of conversing with this abnormal boy. Out of reflex, built by years of bland and repetitive communication, he asks, "what's yours?"

The boy's grin brightens to almost blinding levels. "My name is Yoshiya Kiryu, but you can call me Joshua." He mulls over his words for a moment, beaming at nothing in particular. "Or Josh I suppose, whichever you prefer."

And Neku realizes in that instant his earlier assumption had been entirely false. This boy of eternal merriment is anything but ordinary. Maybe- just maybe, someone like this can understand. Understand the beauty in the vivid strokes of graffiti lining countless alleyways, and the hypocrisy of a world both blind a deaf. Perhaps this stranger can see, where most cannot, the need for liberation, the struggle to remain afloat in a society that slowly sinks, drowning itself in fatal falsehoods.

Neku, who has never been particularly fond of his fellow man due to his inability to comprehend the thoughts and feelings of others, is at a loss faced with this new sensation- and this boy who laughs at everything and nothing at all.

He can't help but be intrigued by that smile, and the cheerful eyes that flash pale violet in faint morning sunlight.

"Joshua," Neku says, repeating the foreign name delicately as he steps away from the rooftop's ledge.