Chapter Text
Sho Minamimoto was in many ways an exemplary Reaper. Powerful, insightful, intelligent, with the kind of potential and ambition that marked him as in many ways an outlier among his peers. He also had one goal in mind: To become the Composer of Shibuya, a position he would do absolutely anything to claim.
However, even he sometimes failed to account for things. And in his multiple plans and ideas on how to achieve his goal, he had never once considered the possibility before him.
Namely, the Composer standing in front of him, offering him a wrapped convenience store onigiri and saying he had a proposition. Cautiously taking the offered snack, expecting a counterattack at any moment, Minamimoto finally spoke. “Right, okay, lay out the equation.”
“Your motif is as endearing as ever, my dear Minamimoto,” the Composer said. He was clad in his mortal guise, with his ash gray hair, lean body, and an expression on his face that often made people want to punch him on principle. “But my offer is quite simple: I know full well how much you want the job as Composer. So… I’ll give it to you.”
Minamimoto immediately choked on his onigiri, wheezing and clearing his airways. Being a Reaper (admittedly a Reaper who was probably about forty-percent refined Noise) meant that suffocation wasn’t a concern, but simulated biology had its own shortcomings. “What the hectopascal?!” He managed to get out. “You’re outta your vector! Total asymptote of a brainwave! No, this is a total junk heap! What’s your unseen factor?”
The Composer simply smiled, laughing his grating ‘I know something you don’t’ laugh. “Oh, there’s no catch or falsehood, Minamimoto. Honestly, this position is starting to wear on me. Perhaps it IS high time that I appoint a successor. So, consider this a trial run, to see if you can handle it.”
“And why do I have to waste time with this equation when I have so many preferable functions to use?” Minamimoto said, recovering some of his composure and brushing off the stray rice.
“Oh? Are you perhaps confident in your ability to claim my position by force? Perhaps here and now?” The Composer said, tilting his head to the side. “If you think you can do so, then by all means… I’m right in front of you. Go right ahead,” he said, his grin growing wider.
Minamimoto tensed, narrowing his eyes. Every instinct and every thought in HIS mind screamed that if the previous offer was probably a trap, this offer to simply take his shot was definitely a trap. While his odds of besting the Composer’s vessel before he could bring his true might to bear were greater than zero… There was far too much uncertainty in the equations.
“... What’s your offer then?” Minamimoto asked.
“So glad you asked!” the Composer said, digging into his own onigiri. “It’s actually quite simple. I’ll give you a Mission. Be my Conductor for a month and manage Shibuya to the satisfaction of the Producer. If he’s satisfied with your performance, I will step down and voluntarily cede the position of Composer to you.”
“... That’s it? What happens if I fail?” Minamimoto asked.
“Oh, are you perhaps afraid of failing?” the Composer asked.
“I trust this offer as much as I trust someone who thinks representing pi as 3.14 is good enough,” Minamimoto grumbled. “So spill the full factors. What happens if I lose this game you’ve probably rigged?”
“Nothing,” the Composer said casually.
“... As in I will become nothing?” Minamimoto asked cautiously.
“Oh no! As in if you fail, we go back to how we were, with you scheming your little plans and me keeping this position, until you attempt to claim my power again,” the Composer said.
“... This number’s totally irrational,” Minamimoto said. “You’ve GOT to be hiding some kind of factor. This isn’t adding up in the least!”
“Oh my dear Minamimoto, I imagine this may seem shocking considering our history, but I will lay it all out. I’ll even do so in your charming dialect, so that we fully understand one-another: Assume the function of the Conductor. Maintain the UG of Shibuya for a duration of one month, the month of October. Keep both sides of the equation balanced for that duration, as proctored and checked by the Producer. Minimize or deal with unsavory variables. Ensure that the calculations are valid at the end of the month. Do this, and my position is yours,” the Composer said, grinning.
“...” Minamimoto’s mouth worked a few times, without result. This was just… This made NEGATIVE sense. “I… This… That’s…”
“Unless you don’t think you can do so, simply because you lack the qualities of being a leader,” the Composer said, laughing. “If you accept, come to the office in the Shibuya River conflux tomorrow at this time. Until then, ta ta~” he said before he vanished in a flash of light.
Minamimoto watched the single feather drifting down before it vanished, his mind working at two hundred ninety-nine million, seven hundred ninety-two thousand, four hundred fifty-eight meters a second. However, despite all the calculations he was making, his mouth only arrived at one thing.
“What the FU-"