He was drowning.
He found it an odd sensation, neither frightening nor stressfull. Sinking further into the sea of psych numbness that was flowing through his veins, he found the experience to be mildly relaxing, if not completely surreal. It was mind-numbing, being completely at the mercy of the bright white tide, all control relinquished to the Soul that guided him through the stream.
He hated it.
That Soul did not belong.
But he was drowning. That Soul was keeping him afloat, keeping the waves from dragging him under the murky depths.
It also kept him from where he wanted to go, forcing him to stay here in the soothing psych haze that had flowed into his very veins. There was something on the shore of this warm, numbing river. Something he needed desperately, but his mind was a blur, and he couldn't think straight to pinpoint exactly what it was, just that he wanted it so very badly.
The Soul That Did Not Belong stroked his ash-blond locks, sending strings of warm, gentle assurances that softly began tearing through his desire for whatever was on the shore. He snarled, kicking in an attempt to distance himself from the intrusion into his wants. A rock of laughter, haulting yet soft, stopped his paddling, and the current became stronger, dragging him back into its embrace.
Not that way, it seemed to audibly taunt him.
He struggled that way for what seemed an hour, his want not diminishing, but getting stronger each time he failed to reach the shore. Yet every time, the Soul That Did Not Belong and the current of psych got stronger as well, yanking him away from his goal.
Finally, after days of futile thrashing, his body was tossed onto the grassy, calm shore he was struggling so hard to reach.
But it was far too late.
Whatever had been there, had gone away, leaving him as empty as he'd been inside the river. It also left his desire even greater, and frustrated but far from beaten, he lifted his head and howled a screaming roar of frustration.
Then his amethyst eyes opened, and he found himself moaning weakly. A chilling laughter reached his ears, and it was disturbingly close. As his body regained feeling and his mind awareness, he realized where he was, and growled in indignation. His throat refused to utter anything intellegible, much to his ire, but he still conveyed his displeasure to the being currently cradling him like an infant.
"Well, my Kiryu, looks like we're done for today. I wonder if you'll actually learn anything. That dead-eyed stare you give...it conveys a lie. We both know that you are far from broken, what your stare proves is that my psych works, not that your Soul is finally tame."
He tried to sneer, but the psych prevented his muscles from doing what he told them to do. He found himself once again cursing the Higher Council for taking half his strength, as he settled for another deep-throated growl.
Apollo howled with laughter, gripping him by the throat and causing him some discomfort by shutting off his breath until he went limp and the sound of open defiance was throttled out of existence. A pathetic gasping noise followed, as his focus was returned to survival and getting a breath in.
"Heel, my Kiryu!" Apollo chuckled as he injected another draining psych to keep his victim from moving even a pinky, and set the unfortunate Composer on a couch "You're mine. Best get used to not growling at your master! I'll tell Sakuraba you need tending to...your struggling did not go unpunished."
So that was the warm wetness on his arm. Blood. He must have scraped it on the Higher Being's nails when Apollo no doubt held him down. His train of thought was broken by the mention of his proxy, and he felt bile rise up in his throat, as well as a heat in his chest as his thoughts left his tormentor and focused on his partner.
He tested the waters, reached out his Composer senses and strained with a mighty effort to connect to the Music. He was knocked back as a wave of fresh, hauntingly out of tune symphonies slammed into him, nearly causing him to be knocked into the soothing pool of unconsciousness that lurked ready to embrace him again. His heart shed tears and his arms opened in sorrow as he realized that...this eery, gleeless, deteriorating concert was...Shibuya.
His Shibuya.
Pain like he'd never felt before stabbed his Soul like a lance, causing his breath to hitch and his groaning to become a sorrowful wimpering croon. Apollo was curious, and let him continue to suffer some torment that, for once, he had not inflicted.
He writhed as wave after crashing wave beat him into the rocks, but he had a mission, and though his very Soul was shedding bloody tears of regret, fear, and agony...he would find what he was looking for. Then he would find the strength of will to once again sooth his district's woes...
Just as he had when his reign began.
He reached through the waves, searching for one specific melody, until at last, he heard it...like a mournful yet rebellious techno beat. His Proxy's indigo and orange Song belted its open defiance, reluctance and rising rage to the Composer, and he longed to answer with his own confermation that yes, he was still here under all the fog of psych that clouded his eyes. However for some reason, his Song only reached a small note in the dual-colored tune.
He frowned. Neku was shutting himself off from the world again. His Song was guarding itself from being torn out of sync, out of tune. Instead of reaching out to the notes of his friends, Neku was guarding himself the only way he knew how. The Composer tried again, begging the Song to let his melody in, but it was no use. Either his own melody was currently exhausted, or Neku had blocked the attempts not knowing who was trying to reach out to him. Either way, Joshua was not reaching his Proxy through the Music.
It was good to see that at least the redhead hadn't fallen into the Pit of Self Loathing again, though. His Song spoke of avenging, of releasing...of desperation, of determination...
Of the will to live.
That was all he needed to know. He was content, and detached himself from the Music, knowing that at least Neku hadn't gone full emo and decided to do something stupid. However, as he felt his Proxy's ire at his current state ("You bastard! What'd you do, knife him on top of torturing him?!") he felt it nessessary to keep his eye on the teen, and refuse any food as long as Neku didn't have some first. He trusted his Partner with his life.
But he did not quite trust Neku with the boy's own just yet.