He swam through the twisted flood that was currently mucking up his symphony space, a look of disgust twisting his face into a scowl. He hadn't been gone that long! Things should not have deteriorated so horridly...the sounds were twisted and the notes tangled badly. This was ten times worse than when he'd first poured himself into her melody that first time!
He cursed the strings still leashing him to a horn that blared loudly out of tune with the rest of the drowning instruments, but noticed that they were a lot looser than before, and getting more frayed by the second. This, he supposed, was because his Proxy had bought him some time.
He would not waste it.
Gathering every shred of will he could muster, the Composer forced himself behind the podium and raised his hands. The chaos subsided, the notes froze as if suspended. He cleared his throat, and tapped the podium before directing the tangle of notes to begin unwinding. As they straightened out, the flood of murky water also receded, revealing his carefully woven masterpiece that he had written far before the Long Game.
He smiled in content as the melodies began to flow again. Noise retreated and the barrier between planes slowly began mending itself, much to his relief. He felt the chaos subside, his domain picking herself back up after his absence.
He frowned as he detected a note of loathing for his Proxy, as if Shibuya blamed the boy for her state of deterioration. He cocked his head curiously when cars seemed to come too close, curbs rose up to trip the usually sure-footed orangette, and the crowds seemed to whisper angrily, though they knew not what had transpired.
The Composer soothed the district's ire, weaving intricate scores of reassurances that no, it was not Neku Sakuraba's fault. Not truly. The district fought him on this, but he was the Composer, so in the end, Shibuya had to cease harassing Neku for his part in her Composer's absence.
Something wafted up his nose, shoving him out of his Concert Hall and back into his unresponsive body. He groaned in frustration, but also twitched slightly, having returning control of his limbs and appendages, causing the one cradling him to chuckle softly.
"Yeah, sorry about that, J. Phones insists you get something in your belly before you wither into nothing."
Sanae! His Producer had once again come to visit. At first, he was slightly miffed, for the Angel was supposed to be arguing with the Council about Apollo, or helping the capable but lazy Conductor run the district in the Composer's absence. But...he had to admit that Hanekoma's presence was comforting. This was no surprise, as it had always been so ever since their first meeting. It was, however, encouraging, because usually Sanae's Music wailed so forlornly during visits that the Composer swore his spirit was broken.
He cursed the fact that he could not verbally tell the man how much he was valued.
The smell continued to torment his nostrils until he remembered what exactly he was taking in, and he cursed Apollo for having a psych that paralyzed his muscles so he couldn't smile in pleasure. His proxy knew him very well.
"Looks like his awareness is finally catching up to him. The mind-numbing psych should wear off faster than the paralysis. But Apollo may have-"
"-Don't." His eyes widened slightly. Neku sounded exhausted and drained from the next room. "It's certain. I saw him implant more than one. As soon as this one wears off, another'll activate. I need more time."
Terrific. If he could scowl, he would melt the ceiling. He loathed the river of psych, and Shibuya still needed fine tuning before he was dragged beneath the vile waters again.
"I can't guarantee more time, Phones. We'll just hope that he can at least be aware enough to still eat and sleep normally by the time Apollo gets back...or that the second one was a bluff."
His head was lifted, and a spoon was lifted to his lips. He refused to grant the utensil's heavenly contents passage, however, until he saw his proxy get some first. They should know this, he sighed internally.
Neku was smarter than Sanae about these matters, as he put himself within eyesight and took a few bites before handing the bowl to the barista, who then tried and succeeded in pouring the mixture of bliss down his throat. He was actually quite hungry, having no food between the past five sessions, and was soon disappointed when no more shio was gifted to his yearning maw.
"He almost looks indignant." Neku said, his tone lighter than usual. The fight wasn't quite there anymore, but his bite had been sharpened. Perhaps this break would do him good as well, make him join his Music with his friends' melodies again.
He had not forgotten the dark visions the pool of water had shown him during his training days. For a while, that outcome was true. However, he had hope now that the future would look brighter for his proxy at least. Himself...not so much. His RG body was already failing him. The Council hadn't rescinded his punishment just because Apollo was 'working' on him, and he could only rely on his Composer abilities halfway since they decided to strip him of the other half. Without Neku...he would have been erased after they threw him into Shibuya. With Neku's aid…
The journey was simply slower.
As the shio made its way through his body, he felt warmth, content, and comfort envelope him, and relished this rare peace that began to blanket his being. His eyelids grew heavy, and his body slowly relaxed.
"That's it Josh...you earned a rest." Sanae's voice encouraged as his vision grew dark, and he finally gave in to the beckoning warmth of sleep…
A sleep without dreams.