He had realized on the second day that Joshua was picky about how he was to be fed. The blank violet eyes stared into a silent void from which there was only darkness and despair, but apparently the Soul behind them still had enough sass to swim through the blackness and convey the Composer's wishes. Apollo of course cracked his knuckles and swore that such things would change, he just needed time to fully crush the ash-blond until he was nothing but a willess pile of tears and hopelessness.
Neku ignored him. What that bastard wanted was clear enough without him gloating about it. The boy already felt guilt's freezing, gripping hands on his throat. He didn't need help kicking himself until he bled for his mistake. Instead he chose to focus on his patient.
Joshua refused to eat anything unless he saw Neku eat from it first. Wether this was a conscious effort on making sure his proxy didn't starve himself to death, making sure Apollo was allowing him to eat, or it was simply to assure him that the Higher Being hadn't slipped something into his meal, Neku couldn't say. The latter seemed highly unlikely, as the Higher Being was never the one making his pet's food, and he never stayed to watch him being fed.
That's right. Joshua couldn't even be granted a shred of will to even feed himself. His body was jelly, his limbs too heavy to lift, such was the drain of the psych. Neku had to bear seeing the most powerful being in Shibuya reduced to a limp ragdoll who barely blinked his dead, violet orbs, let alone twitched one of his skinny fingers. It was agonizingly ironic, and maliciously cruel.
Yet some dark, twisted speck in the ginger's psychy saw a sick satisfaction in the way things had turned out. This prissy blond once led him along like a puppet on strings. Now that same ass was at Neku's mercy, being fed by the very hands he'd made cold and dead, being kept alive by the one he'd shot...twice. As the proxy started to pour a spoonful of shio down the once-smirking lips, the tiny bit of satisfaction melted away, and he shuddered in shame. He'd forgiven the Composer already. Why was he regressing when the skinny ash-blond was trusting him as a partner to have his back, now more than ever?
As he continued to force broth and mashed up noodles down Josh's throat, the despair and forlorn nature of the situation he'd gotten them both into by ending the training a week early began to once again hit him full force. He gripped the fork he held as a hot, burning sensation flushed his face and his eyes began to sting horribly, their ducts getting the slightest bit moist.
"I'm sorry, Josh" he croaked, the words fighting to escape his throat "This is all my fault. If I had waited another week...you'd have been ready."
The violet voids looked at him blankly, slowly blinking a silent reply. The mouth parted slightly, but not a word came out. The sarcastic vocal cords had been shut tight. Neku felt a lump move it's way to his throat, choking him, as the dead orbs blinked at him again.
"No, don't give me that, it's my fault and you know it. I knew you weren't ready to face him yet...but I ignored my instincts and now..." His voice was shut off as emotion-damned useless emotion-finally won out. He dropped the fork in the bowl and drew the limp body that hung in his grip close, a brother refusing to let his sibling fall into a pit.
He then wept. Pain of failure tears washing his guilt over his entire body as he wallowed in the sea of self loathing that he'd been drowning in ever since he uttered the two words that sealed his and Joshua's fates.
His misery was interrupted as Apollo came back from wherever he went whenever he was done playing with his toy. Neku guessed it was to taunt Mister H. again, as the bastard had made that action a hobby as of late, as his triumph had not only been against Neku, but the barista as well. The teen couldn't fathom why the guy thought that it was a good idea to even show his face to the Angel, as Hanekoma was still very much intent on fulfilling his threat, and was in a foul mood these days as he waited for the Council to finally grant him permission to exact rightous vengeance on the madman by crushing his skull to messy mulch then feeding his body to the Noise.
Apollo stepped forward, an arm extended. "Sakuraba, has he finished?"
Bile rose in Neku's throat as he forced his tears back in favor of letting out a defiant sneer, pulling his friend closer to him stubbornly. "Yes." He answered honestly "But give him a little more time to digest. Unless you want him puking all over your boots."
The madman's eyes glowed hungrily and he reached down, grabbing the Composer by the arm. "I think I will survive. My Kiryu needs more training."
The boy clutched his friend tighter, hias blues becoming slits as fear began to creep into his heart. Joshua wasn't ready for another session so soon after the last one. "No." he whispered, voice trembling "No, please don't do this...he needs more time, dammit!"
Apollo pulled harder, Neku felt the terror rise up in him as he felt the skinny body begin to slip from his grip despite his effort. Apollo grinned, but raised his other hand, two fingers poised. "Do not make this harder than it needs to be, Sakuraba."
Neku broke as soon as Joshua was fully in the madman's grip, his body dangling by the one arm Apollo held him up by. He simply looked at his proxy blankly and blinked his eyes slowly, and the orangette felt something inside his very soul snap. He lunged forward with a roar "NO! He's not ready, you DAMN MONSTER! You're NOT taking him!"
His leap was suddenly stopped as Apollo's two fingers slammed into his chest, and injected a devastating pain that flipped his insides so violently that he was thrown to the ground. He screamed more in anger than in pain as he forced his spazzing body onto his stomach, arm outstretched towards his friend's dollish form as he pleaded harshly until his throat was raked and bloody "Let him go! You BASTARD! He isn't ready! Let him go!"
His begging was laughed off, and the two were soon in another room, Neku unable to do anything but suffer through the psych that ripped through his body and kept him on the ground, limbs flailing as if in a death dance without his consent. His blue eyes filled with tears of rage and helplessness as unconsciousness came to viel his eyes from the depressing sight of purple voids blinking at him one last time before they too, closed for the moment.
Their owner was the silent witness of the scream that tore through the house like a banshee's cry, dying off in a warble of sorrow before the spazzing body fell silent.