Joshua was not the type of person to run to people he just met for help with personal issues. If they had the skill he needed, then he would run off to them in a heartbeat, sure. Those sorts of things were never a matter of pride swallowing for him. He was more than willing to admit when something was beyond his skill level and willingly sought out those people he needed for the job. Or else he would ask to learn if it was something he was interested in learning and could be taught to him. Despite being the Composer of Shibuya, a veritable god, that did not mean that he had lost all of what made him human. Joshua still had a heart, still made mistakes, still had pride, and it never meant he had every skill under the sun at his personal disposal. Besides, it was easier (and faster) to get someone else to do something that was beyond his capability than learn it all the hard way.
When it came to matters of the heart, he was more than reluctant to ask for help. Truthfully, only a select few have been allowed into the secret garden of his heart, and only one was allowed to actually set up shop and live comfortably in it. That one was the only person Joshua trusted completely, the only person he allowed himself to be truly human around, if they were in private. When it came right down to it, Sanae Hanekoma was the person Joshua went to if he ever had a personal problem and the one person on Earth he trusted to not only give him advice, but also not judge him for his weaknesses and shortcomings. The one person he never in a million years would ever believe or think would use those weaknesses against him.
Being in a different world without that familiar face, that comfortable support, was not an unwelcome change as such. It wasn’t like Joshua relied on Sanae for everything. However, for some reason, he was finding that he was missing that “hip and happening barista far more than normal. He’d decided to shrug it off and chalk it up to the fact that he must be having an off day. As such, Joshua went about his daily routine and paid no attention to the harp music playing.
The music followed him, though. He noticed that at around midday when he decided to discreetly look for the harp player. The player was nowhere to be found, which was interesting. It didn’t take Joshua long to figure out that he must be hearing the music in his head, but it wasn’t something he made up himself. He was sure of that much. For one, Joshua had never been instructed in composing music for the harp, let alone how to play one. It didn’t seem to be doing any harm, though, as he steadfastly ignored how he steadily grew to miss Sanae’s presence more and more throughout the day.
For once, when he returned to the room he was staying in, he was glad to collapse into bed and straight into the arms of sleep.
It was when Joshua woke up the next morning that he realized that he’d made a mistake in ignoring the harp.
By nature, he wasn’t an emotional person. At least, he tried very hard not to be. He tried to keep his emotions out of most equations, especially if he was being put into a position where he needed his thoughts to be clear. Yet, today, Joshua felt the presence of the companion that had been with him ever since he could remember far keener than he normally did. It was like how it had been before he’d ever met Sanae.
Loneliness. Cold, crushing loneliness. Joshua had always felt lonely and knew from the beginning that leaving his life behind him wouldn’t let him escape from that cage. He still went through with his plans, knowing he could deal with it as long as he had at least one person at his side to weather through the worst of what his new life could throw at him. Yet, this was the kind of loneliness he’d felt when he was younger, an actual kid and not pretending to be one. The loneliness of being so different that not even his parents knew what to do with him. The kind that made it hard to go through life one day--one second at a time.
For most of the morning, he laid in bed and listened to the harp music. The more he listened, the worse his emotional state got. It was starting to annoy him at how he was letting a mere musical instrument dictate what emotions should overpower the others. Determination hardened his eyes and heart. Whatever the harp was trying to pull, he wasn’t going to let it rule his heart like that. Joshua’s heart was his own and should be free to express the emotions it liked in its own way, and as strongly as it wanted to.
With effort, Joshua left his bed, letting his stubbornness take the lead this time. The day past him by in a haze, like the whole world looked greyer than it had yesterday. He was being reminded too strongly of his past and he didn’t like it. That dislike even showed on Joshua’s face in the form of a small frown. At the end of the day, as the sun started to sink below the horizon and Joshua was ready to turn in, he felt far more exhausted than he had ever felt, like there weren’t enough hours of sleep that would ever cure that.
This time, though, he knew what was going on and a dream took place. Joshua heard the music, as beautiful and treacherous as always. The sweet notes were in painful contention with the dream his mind wove for him. It was a nightmare more than an actual good dream. His thoughts on his past must have affected his dream for the night, or else the harp had more power over the heart and mind than he’d originally thought.
He was in his bedroom from when he was alive, the same one he died in. The only light came from the waning crescent moon, easily seen in the sky just outside his window. Before Joshua was a desk made of rosewood, though it was hard to tell if they’d never owned or seen the thing. On the desk were objects that somehow had their own luminescence, enough to be seen in sharp clarity. From left to right solemnly, somberly sat a noose of thick rope; a handgun of some sort; an unmarked, white bottle; a wine glass that looked like it was full of some sort of clear liquid; and finally a knife with dried blood on the sharp blade.
It was a choice, Joshua knew, and a very familiar choice, at that. He made no move toward the desk, his body so still that it was almost impossible to tell that he was even breathing. The cold, calm way he regarded the objects wouldn’t have looked out of place on a marble statue. Eventually, he turned bodily away to face the other side of the room. Joshua had made his choice long ago. It was not one he wished to make again. Not unless he had to decide for a second time. That was something that could stay in the past and he’d be perfectly content with that.
And sitting on his bed, as graceful and beautiful as the notes it played, was the playerless harp. The thing that had haunted him the past two days was within his grasp. A cold anger gripped Joshua at that point and purple eyes hardened. If he was to choose in this room again, then he would choose the life he was currently leading and destroy the thing that was causing old pains and wounds to resurface.
He flung out an arm and pointed his finger at the sirenic instrument. A blinding pillar of white light crashed through the roof of the room and directly onto the harp. It totally destroyed both harp and bed, and flung Joshua straight out of the dream and into the waking world. His eyes flew open and he lay there, frozen, in his real bed. Sunlight streamed into the room along with the birdsong and Joshua took a moment to not only regain his composure, but to revel in the fact that there was no more harpsong.
He also wanted a moment to reflect on all that had happened in the dream. Involuntarily, a shiver went down his spine as he recalled the night of his death. That was one thing Joshua was determined to not experience again if he could, though he knew he came extremely close to making that choice for a second time in his home world. He also knew, now, that the choice would always haunt him, even if he never consciously thought about it. Joshua wondered if he would have the strength to say no to those options, to choose life instead, even if it meant being lonely until the day he was replaced by a new Composer for Shibuya.
The Composer shook the thoughts from his head. He wouldn’t know until he was at the crossroads, and there was no point in dwelling on it now. So, instead, Joshua got up to greet the new day.
Harp Event: Closed {TW: Death, implications of suicide}
When it came to matters of the heart, he was more than reluctant to ask for help. Truthfully, only a select few have been allowed into the secret garden of his heart, and only one was allowed to actually set up shop and live comfortably in it. That one was the only person Joshua trusted completely, the only person he allowed himself to be truly human around, if they were in private. When it came right down to it, Sanae Hanekoma was the person Joshua went to if he ever had a personal problem and the one person on Earth he trusted to not only give him advice, but also not judge him for his weaknesses and shortcomings. The one person he never in a million years would ever believe or think would use those weaknesses against him.
Being in a different world without that familiar face, that comfortable support, was not an unwelcome change as such. It wasn’t like Joshua relied on Sanae for everything. However, for some reason, he was finding that he was missing that “hip and happening barista far more than normal. He’d decided to shrug it off and chalk it up to the fact that he must be having an off day. As such, Joshua went about his daily routine and paid no attention to the harp music playing.
The music followed him, though. He noticed that at around midday when he decided to discreetly look for the harp player. The player was nowhere to be found, which was interesting. It didn’t take Joshua long to figure out that he must be hearing the music in his head, but it wasn’t something he made up himself. He was sure of that much. For one, Joshua had never been instructed in composing music for the harp, let alone how to play one. It didn’t seem to be doing any harm, though, as he steadfastly ignored how he steadily grew to miss Sanae’s presence more and more throughout the day.
For once, when he returned to the room he was staying in, he was glad to collapse into bed and straight into the arms of sleep.
It was when Joshua woke up the next morning that he realized that he’d made a mistake in ignoring the harp.
By nature, he wasn’t an emotional person. At least, he tried very hard not to be. He tried to keep his emotions out of most equations, especially if he was being put into a position where he needed his thoughts to be clear. Yet, today, Joshua felt the presence of the companion that had been with him ever since he could remember far keener than he normally did. It was like how it had been before he’d ever met Sanae.
Loneliness. Cold, crushing loneliness. Joshua had always felt lonely and knew from the beginning that leaving his life behind him wouldn’t let him escape from that cage. He still went through with his plans, knowing he could deal with it as long as he had at least one person at his side to weather through the worst of what his new life could throw at him. Yet, this was the kind of loneliness he’d felt when he was younger, an actual kid and not pretending to be one. The loneliness of being so different that not even his parents knew what to do with him. The kind that made it hard to go through life one day--one second at a time.
For most of the morning, he laid in bed and listened to the harp music. The more he listened, the worse his emotional state got. It was starting to annoy him at how he was letting a mere musical instrument dictate what emotions should overpower the others. Determination hardened his eyes and heart. Whatever the harp was trying to pull, he wasn’t going to let it rule his heart like that. Joshua’s heart was his own and should be free to express the emotions it liked in its own way, and as strongly as it wanted to.
With effort, Joshua left his bed, letting his stubbornness take the lead this time. The day past him by in a haze, like the whole world looked greyer than it had yesterday. He was being reminded too strongly of his past and he didn’t like it. That dislike even showed on Joshua’s face in the form of a small frown. At the end of the day, as the sun started to sink below the horizon and Joshua was ready to turn in, he felt far more exhausted than he had ever felt, like there weren’t enough hours of sleep that would ever cure that.
This time, though, he knew what was going on and a dream took place. Joshua heard the music, as beautiful and treacherous as always. The sweet notes were in painful contention with the dream his mind wove for him. It was a nightmare more than an actual good dream. His thoughts on his past must have affected his dream for the night, or else the harp had more power over the heart and mind than he’d originally thought.
He was in his bedroom from when he was alive, the same one he died in. The only light came from the waning crescent moon, easily seen in the sky just outside his window. Before Joshua was a desk made of rosewood, though it was hard to tell if they’d never owned or seen the thing. On the desk were objects that somehow had their own luminescence, enough to be seen in sharp clarity. From left to right solemnly, somberly sat a noose of thick rope; a handgun of some sort; an unmarked, white bottle; a wine glass that looked like it was full of some sort of clear liquid; and finally a knife with dried blood on the sharp blade.
It was a choice, Joshua knew, and a very familiar choice, at that. He made no move toward the desk, his body so still that it was almost impossible to tell that he was even breathing. The cold, calm way he regarded the objects wouldn’t have looked out of place on a marble statue. Eventually, he turned bodily away to face the other side of the room. Joshua had made his choice long ago. It was not one he wished to make again. Not unless he had to decide for a second time. That was something that could stay in the past and he’d be perfectly content with that.
And sitting on his bed, as graceful and beautiful as the notes it played, was the playerless harp. The thing that had haunted him the past two days was within his grasp. A cold anger gripped Joshua at that point and purple eyes hardened. If he was to choose in this room again, then he would choose the life he was currently leading and destroy the thing that was causing old pains and wounds to resurface.
He flung out an arm and pointed his finger at the sirenic instrument. A blinding pillar of white light crashed through the roof of the room and directly onto the harp. It totally destroyed both harp and bed, and flung Joshua straight out of the dream and into the waking world. His eyes flew open and he lay there, frozen, in his real bed. Sunlight streamed into the room along with the birdsong and Joshua took a moment to not only regain his composure, but to revel in the fact that there was no more harpsong.
He also wanted a moment to reflect on all that had happened in the dream. Involuntarily, a shiver went down his spine as he recalled the night of his death. That was one thing Joshua was determined to not experience again if he could, though he knew he came extremely close to making that choice for a second time in his home world. He also knew, now, that the choice would always haunt him, even if he never consciously thought about it. Joshua wondered if he would have the strength to say no to those options, to choose life instead, even if it meant being lonely until the day he was replaced by a new Composer for Shibuya.
The Composer shook the thoughts from his head. He wouldn’t know until he was at the crossroads, and there was no point in dwelling on it now. So, instead, Joshua got up to greet the new day.