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There's a corpse in the room.
A work of taxidermy stuffed to the brim with command codes binding together a Soul that is not so much a person as it is gravel. A breathing, blinking urn, housing fragments that had once—not too long ago—been part of a whole to grant life to its carrier.
Joshua can't think of any aspect of Tanzo Kubo that would merit commiserating with him over the boisterous Noise Master's fate.
It is a more apt pronoun to use for the ex-Executor, really.
Devoid of its usual form, it sits beside the throne of Shinjuku as Anser Cantus with its legs drawn up to its chest. Hues of gray and white make up majority of the Noise's colors. The hazel eyes above its sturdy and sharp beak stare into space, its head leading down to a long neck encircled by light brown rings.
Below the neck is stocky body, humanoid with the exception of the massive talons it has for hands and feet. Its tail sways back and forth behind it, lacking a proper rhythm.
An assortment of floating graffiti in varying shapes used to make up its wings.
Used to, because now its back is bare. A tasteless houseplant with clipped leaves.
Hazuki had summoned him here to discuss the next steps to take once Shinjuku's Reapers manage to undo as much of the Inversion's consequences as possible with their inferior powers; the rest would be up to the Higher Plane to take care of.
Kubo has nothing to do with such matters, but the absence of the body parts still prompts him to nod towards it and ask, "So, what happened to its wings, friend?"
"Hm?" Hazuki straightens his back on the throne. His gaze drops down to the Noise next to him for the first time since Joshua's arrival, akin to a host noting a curiosity pointed out by a guest.
"Data Niente," Hazuki confirms what Joshua had already guessed. "I wasn't aware that the strain of an exorcism on the Soul may lead to the corruption of Soul data. This wasn't an outcome I was anticipating."
He glances back at Joshua. "I did notice something was off about his Soul once it returned to the Higher Plane, but I didn't recognize what it was until he tried to regenerate his body. What it attempted to form was..."
Hazuki's words trail off.
"Not Kubo, right?" He finishes for him with a wry smile.
Damage inflicted on the Soul to the extent of its destruction is for all intents and purposes an execution.
Memories, disposition, personality, even Imagination. Everything that made the Soul who and what it was had been scrambled and shattered.
Hazuki nods, a hand slipping down to absently scritch at the back of Kubo's head. "I ingrained command codes to have him take his Noise form for better stability. As for the Soul, I've experimented with various codes, but I'm yet to find one to restore its state."
Joshua's obnoxious challenger is gone for good. A shame, really. He can't exactly rub the Noise Master's loss in the face of what is now in a sense a zombie, most likely lacking the comprehension to understand the concept of losing.
"I took the liberty of modifying his form to have his wings removed. Something about them agitated him to the point of reaching around to rip off pieces, and repeating the act whenever they'd regenerate." Kubo hangs his head low at a scrape of nails towards the crown. "I think he's been more mellow since the removal."
Kubo's beak cracks open, and out spills revolting gurgling, a death rattle of a creature already expired.
Hazuki acknowledges the sound with a soft hum, a hand cupping the bird's beak to tilt Kubo's head back, the other caressing its throat. "Swallow," he murmurs. "That should clear the build up of saliva."
The guttural noises continue, and for a moment Joshua expects Hazuki to reach into Kubo's mouth, what with how he's peering down its beak.
And then it stops. "That's better," his voice is almost a whisper when he releases Kubo, and the bird's head snaps down to resume staring at nothing, stock-still in an instant. Hazuki stare lingers on it for a moment before facing Joshua again.
"Why do you insist on keeping it around? It's obvious the only use left for that is repurposing its material into Noise."
"I like him."
The sincerity of Hazuki's tone has him laugh.
It's none of his business what sort of like Hazuki is referring to. What matters to him is keeping that vacuous thing out of sight; Shinjuku's rebuilding will require the aid of other Composers at its final phase. It's doubtful that Hazuki would be able to make a good impression on their ilk if it's done in the presence of the meat puppet.
"Sure, but you can't keep that around when you request help from the others."
"How come?"
"I don't know if you've noticed this, friend, but it is not customary in the Higher Plane to keep corrupted Souls around the way you do." He gestures towards the Noise with a flick of his wrist. Like a pet.
"He might not stay like this. I've read of those who've recovered from a Data Niente. The chances are low, but I want to believe it is still possible when it comes to him."
Yes, low chances when it comes to higher-ranking Angels. But for those of Kubo's rank? Non-existent.
Joshua watches Kubo's arm twitch before the limb rises with a violent tremble, talons convulsing and snapping downward one by one until a lone claw remains straightened and pointing at the Noise's head.
A subjugated beast on a divine life support, capable of only unconscious responses and spinal reflexes. Its movements are vestiges of what used to exist, pebbles of its Soul catching between the gears animating its form until the pieces are crushed and parsed to execute the action contained within.
Hazuki seems pleased by motion. Joshua wonders whether he knows that it doesn't necessarily mean anything promising.
"I strongly suggest you store it within a pin when you negotiate with the others if you wish to have your ward restored." Joshua shrugs, chuckling. "Or not. I'm not the boss of you. It's up to you to make the right decision."
"Would you do it if you were in my position?" Hazuki's half-lidded gaze flicks between Joshua and Kubo, fixing on the bird. He clicks his tongue to get the Noise's attention, snapping his fingers and pointing at his lap.
The amenable Noise inches closer with ungainly movement, talons reaching for the side of the throne to hoist itself up to drape its upper half from one armrest to another in a gross mockery of a beloved pet settling in its owner's lap, the exertion drawing a warped honk from its throat.
"I'd rather keep my answer private. It's time for you to carve your own path."
As interesting as the little bet over Shibuya's fate had been, he does not want to encourage Hazuki to follow in his footsteps and do something that'd potentially result in another bet one way or another. It's too early for it.
"...I understand. Your advice is valued, friend."
He resolves to keep his eyes on Hazuki as they return to the main topic, even when his focus would dip below at times to observe the absurdity of a Noise being stroked and caressed and gently scratched along the expanse of its back, its wet croaks and profuse drooling making it dubious whether or not it found the affection enjoyable.
This is as good as it's going to get for the goose, broken and no longer able to serve the Higher Plane. A persona non grata made into a possession by the sole person to desire and accept the animal as it is, flaws and all.
For now.
It's only a matter of time until the capricious Composer of Shinjuku finds someone new to captivate him the same way as the brash bird has. Perhaps that'll be enough to motivate him to recycle it.
On the whole, it's none of his concern. Whatever Hazuki's decision will be regarding the fate of the loser, he wishes to be kept out of it.
An amused hmph slips past his lips at a thought flashing across his mind.
The future Conductor of Shinjuku sure won't be prepared to see their Composer's pet bird.