Joker regards Hiro in silence as he takes his turn. Heās not an honest guy at heart, huh? Considering the things Hiro must have been through, heās like that by necessity. Or, heās just like that by nature. Joker wonders.
He raises his eyebrows at Hiroās declaration. Joker was as honest as he could be. He supposes thereās more that they can discuss... All the implications to Hiroās mysterious experience, Joker canāt help but feel a little more comfortable in this bizarre shrine of star charts and demonology. They had common ground to speak of, dressed up in different terms and different shapes.
āAh, well... People are surprisingly good at justifying weird incidents... If I could just play on that, itād work out.ā He sits back. Better that any witnesses didnāt see the portal at all, of course. Then he would have nothing to explain.
Then Hiro specifies exactly what he wanted expansion on. Joker drops his eyes. Yes, this is the most difficult part--convincing someone heās not some random murderer. He thinks about it, then remembers something.
āThere are articles on me,ā he says, with a self-assuring nod. āJoker strikes this apartment, Joker terrorizes that hideout. Itās phantom thief type stuff. You know? ...The knife is primarily for self-defense. Shadows tend to be hostile when they think youāre out to ruin their plans. But, sometimes thereās a Shadow that just needs a stern talking to, and...
āAnyway, thatās what I mean. Iāve never hurt a real person. People like you or me. Salarymen, or idols, or students... Beggars, misers, rich, poor, it doesnāt matter who they are. Only what theyāve done. I wouldnāt cause anyone physical pain, but sometimes they need a change of heart.ā He folds one heart over the other. āLately, I donāt even like doing that. I just do my best to persuade them.ā
As if just remembering a cookie was offered, Joker makes a move to take one. āI donāt exactly remember how I got back into doing this. At first, it was an accident, and we stopped after one of our biggest heists. But, for some reason, it all came back...
āMy friends have been missing for a while. Iāve searched high and low for them, and Iāve been using the Metaverse to do it... And thatās pretty much why Iām doing what Iām doing now.ā
That was a strong reaction. Not the kind of reaction someone has when they see a gun for the first time. It was the reaction of someone who was acutely aware of what a gun could do. The ability to take life with the pull of the trigger, the slightest movement of a finger. A terrifying power that humans had bestowed upon themselves. And Hiro reacted like he had not only known this, but that he had lived it. This makes sense to Joker.
He scratches his neck when Hiro mentions demon summoning. It doesnāt ring the loudest of bells. Itās something youād learn about in an anime, or read about from fiction, or hear about from a video game. But he knows that his job is similarly incredible, so he canāt just brush it aside. Besides, it falls from the lips of a very real dude. Because he knows Hiro is very real.
Now, being paranoid is cool and all, but Joker admits he gets tired of playing that way. So he decides heāll just show his cards. He gets a good feeling from Hiro, and if something terrible comes of it, well--heāll have learned something. Sometimes interesting developments can only come about through a drastic maneuver. He listens to Hiroās answers, his brief excerpt from an old experience. Malice in the wake of chaos. Thereās an entire history in that sentence, and he can sense the tragedy loaded in every word.
Joker nods and smiles back at Hiro. The ballās in his court.
āThe difference between you and me is that you can do that,ā Joker starts. āI have no power in the real world. I just have my tech and my own hands to work with. All my power is in cognitive psience. Thatās with a P.ā
He leans back in his chair. āWeāre talking Shadows like Jungās shadows, but with a tangible, interactable form. Interacting with them requires being able to access the cognitive world. Thatās what that portal earlier was. I have the ability to leave reality and go into the cognitive world, and vice versa. Shadows usually take on the form of gods, goddesses, spirits, demonsā¦ Every person has a Shadow, but not every Shadow has a person. Thereās a lot that just roam the cognitive world. Pieces of humanity, I guess.ā
Joker reaches to adjust his gloves and finds heās not wearing any. Nervous tick, he supposes. A little embarrassing. But being hereās embarrassing. Heās trying to gauge if his host is malevolent or not. Thereās been a lot of indicators so far to suggest Hiro is, in fact, not malevolent. But Joker knows about the people who prefer to kill slowly. And if anyoneās capable of killing slowly, itās someone who can summon monsters in the real world who isnāt fazed by other supernatural events.
He pauses to think. What was the other question? Oh, yeah. It was about Diarahan. Heās not sure how to answer that. But not too long after, he feels Hiroās eyes on him. So Joker eyes him back. No use backing down from a staring contest. Itās the perfect opportunity to feel out someoneās character.
Hiro doesnāt have a dishonest air about him. He almost seems like a totally normal dude. He has an expected fashion sense. Hygiene levels arenāt suspicious. The only thing suspicious is all the stuff in the room. And outside. But Hiroās not the one walking around brandishing a knife and a model gun, Joker understands.
He pricks his ears when Hiro speaks again. He lets each word sink in. Abuse. Magic and monsters. Good intentions. Hurt. Joker senses a history of experience behind these words, and heās even more wary of Hiro than ever. This guy isnāt a god or a spirit. Heās--an agent...a hunterā¦
A trickster?
āNever,ā Joker says, simply. āIāve never used these on people. Not real ones.ā
He takes up the gun and fires it into the palm of his own hand. The pellet hits the skin soundly, and Joker winces. It definitely hurts. But the worst that can happen is a bruise. He lifts the gun and looks at Hiro, showing the palm of his hand. āI know. Itās childish.ā
Now he has a segue to answering the other question. Why he wouldnāt know that monster, but know Diarahan.
āYou mentioned magic and monsters. Are you talking about Shadows?ā
Joker takes in the scene. He feels more and more that he never truly left the cognitive world, thrust into a space of unreality where ghosts and gods mock him. He looks at his host seated at the other end of a table and thinks he sort of looks like a ghost. Simultaneously serene and troubled, positioned in the juxtaposition of ease and danger. A knife and a gun point at the young man on the peripherals of his vision, and dead center is a cup of tea, aligned with another cup and the bottle from whence both had come.
Half of Joker believes that he shouldnāt have left his weapons out. The other half dictates he had left them out for a reasonāfor the purpose of communicating his harmless intent. He assesses the picture so artfully arranged before him and considers that he is not in the den of a human. It may be that he has fallen into the hands of a god, or a spirit, or something which has the power to summon devils from the expanse, and is not troubled by matters of a human falling from cognition.
Joker thinks that sounds stupid, though, so he checks his phone just to be sure. The App reassures him that he is in the real world.
āPlease, sit.ā
Joker remembers his position and realizes heās being rude. He takes his assigned seat at the table. Whether this guyās a spirit or just plain human, there are certain conventions of conduct to adhere to.
He thinks about the proximity of his weapons. Hiro placed them very deliberately, and he must have known the risk he was taking on by trusting Joker with his knife and gun. Joker takes up the airsoft gun and examines it. No signs of tampering. Not that it mattered, since it posed no actual threat. Still, he sets it down closer to the center of the table, roughly equidistant between the two of them.
He glances up and smiles at Hiroās first statement, grateful for his hostās nosy behavior. Being here makes his recovery much easier, even if he was asking himself a million questions a minute about the wisdom of accepting Hiroās offer. Still, Jokerās curious about the implication that Hiro has been through other situations like this before, enough that it became a bad habit. Were they very similar to this or only barely? Did his host like to pick up random guys bleeding out on the street? Joker suddenly feels like a stray cat that had just gotten out of a fight.
I mean, thatās not wrong.
At Hiroās question, Joker pauses. Was he playing dumb or did he really not know? To be fair, he can summon entities in the real world when even Joker canātā¦ Joker, who struck out against a tyrannical god born from the indolence of mankind... Joker, whose heart surged every day with the rebellion of the very devilā¦ Joker, who was still just a guy at the end of the day, dressed up fancy to hide the writhing mass of insufficiency that unraveled beneath the surface.
āItāsā¦a portal? Not like, the sci-fi kind you think of in movies. Just likeā¦the function? The idea? Like computer gateways.ā
He wants to elaborate some more on what he means, and that this portal is really just The App helping him step from one plane of reality to another so he can do his thing, but as Joker reaches to reposition his knife, he makes a very vital realization.
Hiro heeds the otherās words, and with a small nod, leads the stranger to his apartment. He doesnāt say anything on the way over, but he doesnāt feel the need to. Now was the time for haste, and even for a guy in a rabbit-earred hoodie, his friend was a little conspicuousā¦
Keep reading
Joker was relieved by the speed at which they moved. His new acquaintance had a good sense of urgency. Good head on his shoulders, too. He had to be if he was a Persona-user, of course, but that in itself implied so much...
Questions later, Joker reminded himself, and he kept his mouth shut as they went along. His costume was incredibly conspicuous on its own. It made a great impression when he sailed across Tokyo's skyline, but gliding down the hallway of an apartment building... It was less majestic and more weird. He admitted now was also a weird time to be getting self-conscious, but--
He lighted quietly up the stairs, and sooner or later they were at Hiro's door. Joker couldn't help but get a look. He raised an eyebrow. Three locks. Signs that made references to materializing entities. Humanity-destroying visitors. Joker was nervous. Who was this guy?
He straightened up before Hiro could notice his failing composure--so he thought, anyway--and followed his acquaintance inside. Whether out of habit or politeness, Joker unzipped his boots and left them where shoes should be left. He thought briefly about the doodle of the angry girl on the door.
The meow made his head shoot up. Not that it sounded like Morgana. Actually, he didn't even know what Morgana's normal meows were like. Every time he tried, it just sounded fake and human... Still, the personality was kind of there. Joker looked around until he spotted the cat in question. He appraised her, seeing the slight angle of her eyes, the stern frown on her kitty face, the superior prick of the ears.
"Reminds me of someone I know," he commented.
Expecting the typical mess, Joker cast his eyes about and found a number of surprises. He noted the unhung corkboard, then contemplated a framed piece of paper. He wondered if it was modern art. As Hiro went over to the table, Joker joined him and took a look at what was there.
These don't look like typical textbooks, he observed, skimming the titles that stood out. Asterisms, geomagnetism, just what did this guy have his hands in? He raised his eyebrows at the padlocks, knitted them at the star charts, and tilted his head at the sound of Hiro kicking some unknown Thing. While his host sorted through a box, Joker contemplated the corkboard once again. He saw mementos of friendships and special occasions. He felt his heart soften, and his shoulders slumped.
Hiro handed him the change of clothes. Joker straightened up to accept them.
āLeave your fancy party clothes outside. Iāll wash āem.
āI guess we can talk business afterwards, huh.ā
"Yeah."
Joker glided to the bathroom and closed the door. He checked his surroundings for windows, cameras, any means someone would have of looking in on him. The process was swift: gloves first, jacket, then the rest. He kept an eye on his phone. All his power was invested in that one device... Without it, he was just a human. A highly qualified one, yes, but human nevertheless.
In no time, the clothes of the phantom thief were out the door, and Joker came out a civilian.
"You saved me back there," he said with a note of embarrassment, briefly avoiding eye contact. He thought to add I would have been okay, just getting home would have been riskier, but that was already too many words for him. So he just left the expression of gratitude without any extra baggage.
Joker went over the name in his mind a couple of times. It didn't sound fake, but it didn't take long to come up with a convincingly fake name. And if this guy was anything like him, he had rehearsed enough where the name came naturally.Ā
Ah, but there he went again, doubting the honesty of someone who had just helped him. He had reasonable doubt, of course, but Joker had to wonder just how reasonable it was in this circumstance.
As Hiro apologized for the scare, Joker gave a firm nod. "It's all right," he said. "I just wasn't expectingā¦"
But this wasn't a good place to talk. Joker considered his next set of words, wanting to articulate how he was interested in his rescuer, how he wanted to repay him, how he wanted all this to remain a secretā¦
āYou know, my new apartmentās close by. You can borrow a change of clothes? Wash yourā¦ costume? ā¦Take a shower?ā
He raised his eyebrows. The forwardness almost didnāt hit him. These were all the exact things he needed at the moment, aside from just learning more about this personā¦ Joker shifted his weight, glanced about.
āUnless you feel theā¦ dangerā¦ hasnāt passed?ā
"No, it should be fine," Joker answered instinctively, well aware nothing cognitive followed him into the real world. It wasn't possible. And yet the shadow of doubt crept in his mind once more, and he thought about how convenient this all was. He fell out the clutches of Cerberus into those of his rescuer. He needed a place to rest and reorient himself - his rescuer extended the offer. And then the implications of danger in the areaā¦
Sometimes a friend is a friend, he heard Arsene say, or at least, he thought he heard. Their voices were exactly alike, so it was hard to tell from time to timeā¦
Let's assume he's a friend, then. Joker glanced about himself once more. This is a residential area, so he could easily be living around here. If he saw me leave the other world, he's being pretty calm about it. He has a Personaā¦ Iā¦think. Shared experience? Even if he didn't see me leave the other world, he has that powerā¦ He was comfortable using it in the openā¦ He even checked our surroundings, so he must be confident no one's watchingā¦
If he were an enemyā¦ He'd have to know I'd show up here somehowā¦ But no one knows about theā¦ No, that's not right. Some people know about the other worldā¦ Maybe he was thereā¦ He could have followedā¦ But, still, instead of picking me off here, or calling the copsā¦ Ā Then, why? To gain my trust?
Joker studied Hiro's face. It took him a minute, but he looked beyond the large-rimmed glasses that so resembled his own. Honestly, the resemblance was uncannyā¦ He felt the eyes were different, though. Once they got into some better light he'd know for sure, butā¦
It felt likeā¦ It felt like these were honest eyes. Maybe it was the influence of being saved by his near-doppleganger, but that was how he felt.
Well, thatās something Hiro didnāt come across every day. Or ever before.
Hiro had just been on the way home from the convenience store after buying popsicles and fake eyeglasses. Popsicles because they were delicious; eyeglasses because college orientation was soon and who didnāt sometimes worry about changing their look? Hiro felt strongly enough about that last part to wear the glasses home.
Regardless, he was close enough to see the sudden red ripple of reality bloom right before his eyes. Soon after, something, no, someone stumbled through it, slamming into the car on the street before falling heavily onto the ground. Hiro knew he wasnāt mistaken. After all that had happened to him, he no longer questioned whether or not he had really seen something. He had used the Terminals to cross from one physical plane to another! He had been to the Akashic Stratum itself! He had floated with his friends in a cascading whirlpool of blazing white stars and swirling darkness at the end of it all! Who was he to disbelieve the apparentā¦ transition of one who could pass from one place in the world to another when the evidence was right in front of him?
He wasnāt entirely certain what kind of transition it was, or what the phenomenon truly was, but one minute nothing was there and the next, after red, rippling waves in the middle of the air, someone was. Admittedly, this person, whoever they were, had probably seen better days since they hadnāt gotten up since falling on the groundā¦
Because caution was for losers or for people who didnāt wear white rabbit-eared hoodies, Hiro rushed over, drawing out his cell phone.
It didnāt take much more than a look to be able to tell that the stranger was terribly injured, although Hiro did take a second look because the young man looked so much like himself. He couldnāt take too much time to register that, however, because Hiro could see blood seeping through the gray fabric of the otherās shirt under the shoulder. Even if he couldnāt see blood trickling down the shirt, it was obvious from the strangerās behavior that he was in serious condition. He was severely pale, and although he had clearly become aware of Hiroās presence, freezing when he noticed him, Hiro wasnāt so certain he was entirely aware of the rest of his surroundings. Or that he could be budged, for that matter.
Hiro knew some amount of first aid. Splints, CPR, apply pressure to the woundā¦ but the dire look the young man was giving him made him think heād be unwilling to let Hiro help or even call for help. Additionally, Hiro didnāt know anything about him, where he had come from, why he was injured or if he was a danger. Possibly, he was someone who couldā¦ invoke that phenomena just now, and appear or disappear anywhere. He could be seriously dangerous.
ā¦
Curiously, without taking a further second, the teenager hastily looked around, over his shoulder and down the street, like he was checking for something. Was he looking for other passer-by to help? Police? He looked at the strangerās face again, searching for something, as if he had to be absolutely certain about something. It seemed as though he quickly came to some sort of conclusion because shortly after that he gave a very soft sigh and then nodded to himself.
āOkay, okay,ā he said gently, with deliberate assurance, as if in response to some unvoiced thought or an imagined inquiry from the fallen young man. āBut you canāt tell anyone about this either.ā
Hiro pulled out his phoneā¦! Ah, so he was going to call the police after aā
ā¦He summoned Tzitzimitl, goddess of the night, goddess of fear, from his demon roster. Certainly not the friendliest-looking demon. Her eyeless face peered down at the stranger as if in judgement. Under her skirts her body glimmered with stardust, her many appendages slowly unfolded themselves from each other in a menacing, artful spiral in wait of Hiroās commandā¦
Hiro didnāt waste time. He asked of her to cast only one spell on the stranger for him.
āDiarahan.ā
When that was done, Hiro assessed the young man one last time, perhaps to gauge his reaction to being able to summon a demon right there in front of him. Whatever he was looking for in the strangerās expression, he kept to himself. His own expression appeared to be one of cautious anticipation. However, it wasnāt long before he was glancing surreptitiously about the street once again. He paused only to take the time to thank Tzitzimitl before he then quickly dismissed her.
Only then did Hiro offer his hand to the stranger to help him up. He smiled.
āRough costume party, huh?ā
In the end, Hiro couldnāt help but feel sympathy for a stranger, who had an obvious link to something supernatural, and whose face looked like one who found it an impossibility to admit the truth of his circumstances. Like how Hiro felt sometimes.
A terrible risk. Foolhardy. But Hiro wasnāt someone who could leave another with injuries like this to struggle alone in the dark.
Okay, Iāll say I was roleplaying. I was out with some friends and we were having a game session. There was a dog looseā¦ Yeah, it was a dog attack. Try not to say anything unnecessary. Maybe he wonāt even ask. Make eye contact. You look suspicious.
With his thoughts in order, Joker persuaded himself to get a look at the stranger. His rescuer seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts, glancing back and forth as though his actions were worthy of suspicion. Joker wondered if he was looking for help or if he was merely embarrassed. Some people didnāt want the trouble of inconveniences like these, never mind that a guy in a costume was bleeding out. Maybe he looked like a drunkard in the dark of night.
āSā¦sorry,ā Joker stammered out, trying to play the part of a confused civilian. Now let him talk. Donāt say any more than necessary. Your name is Kuraki Rukaā¦
They made eye contact then, and Joker went cold. It was like looking into a mirror in a dark room. He saw the outline of shabby air and the weak silhouette of glasses. They lent an appearance of unassuming youth, whose face he was once accustomed to. He had the sense that he was being evaluated. It was a familiar feeling, and an abhorrent one at that. Joker prayed his rescuer-apparent was not looking for the face of a rogue Phantom Thief.
āOkay, okay. But you canāt tell anyone about this either.ā
About what. This encounter? Joker eyed his phone with natural wariness, waiting to see the outcome of this gesture. Maybe it was the police, but his words didnāt ring with the tone of someone who was about to turn him in. Maybe an ambulance. A private doctor.
He heard a strange crackle in the air, accompanied by the manifesting of lights. It wasnāt like anything heād ever experienced. He felt the hairs on his neck stand from some kind of paranormal static in the air, and failed to suppress a shiver. He saw a new form rise up in the dark, ears straining from the sound of the cosmos, eyes reflecting the barely-visible form of a monster. His hackles raised further, his form stiffened with fighting intent. The communication between his conscious and unconscious was lightning fast:
A Persona-user? Is this an attack!? Arsene, help me!
Impossible! This isnāt cognitive!
Just get out here!
Calm down!
It was a very long moment for Joker, which was probably much shorter in reality. He heard a word he hadnāt heard in yearsāDiarahanāand felt the wash of magic, the tingling pain of wounds closing up, the lengthening of the string of life. Warmth welled up from within as if he had just met an old friend. Thatās impossible, he thought. This is all impossible.
His face was probably one of acute stupidity. In the relief of the impossible, Joker had more room, more time to think. Thatās right. This isnāt the cognitive world. I mean, I donāt think it is. So how did he do that? Jokerās eyes trailed to the phone. Phones were incredibly powerful these days. They could even transport one between realities. Maybe an app? Even mine canāt manifest Personas in the real world. Thatās incredible.
Joker sat there, overcome by a feeling he had somehow been saved by his past self. It was a silly feeling, and yet he couldnāt help but entertain the idea. He was soon broken from his thoughts by his rescuerās kind gesture.
āRough costume party, huh?ā
Joker gave his hand another dumb look. Then he broke out laughing. It was a short laugh, but hearty and sincere. He grabbed ahold of the strangerās hand and helped himself up.
āYeah,ā he said, āhell of a costume party.ā
He took a moment to examine himself. Blood stained his clothes, but the skin was all patched up. He gave each injury site a deliberate press, checking for pain. He rolled his shoulders, wrung out his hands, and fixed his gloves.
In the levity of the situation, he was tempted to start up some banter, but he wasnāt ready to let his guard down just yet. Joker contented himself instead with a friendlier appraisal of his rescuer, giving him a good scan from head to toe. Not too short, not too tall. Stood out on account of the bright hoodie. It was hard to judge his character from here, but the guy had an assured air about him, as though he was accustomed to incidents like these.
It had been a long time since Joker met any such person. Ever since the business of the Phantom Thieves, he seemed entirely alone in this world with his supernatural doings. He lived at least four different worlds in one day, which no one else had the misfortune of dealing with, and was resigned to the idea that it would stay that way for a while. Maybe someone would eventually launch into cognitive psience again and find him, butā¦
But here instead was a guy who already had his hands in some sort of shady stuff, and while Joker knew he was one to talk, he was, in fact, one to talk. All this time he thought he was the authority in unexplained happenings, and now he was faced with something he couldnāt explain.
He couldnāt just walk away. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned on one leg.
Most Shadows didnāt give him the time of day. These guys would give his coroner the time of death right down to the millisecond. Joker wasnāt unaccustomed to hordes, but he had to admit he was at a disadvantage this time. He was out in the open, which was exactly his least favorite place to be, and in no position to play tricks or to even bargain.
He scanned the oncoming circle of foes and spotted a break. Here's my chance, he thought. Joker tore off his mask with one hand and fired a bullet with the other, felling the Shadow that would open the way. His mask melted into flame and reshaped into Arsene, who followed up the line of fire with a flying cleave. Would-be opposers fell on either side, blasted by the flap of Arsene's wings, while one fell flat on its back. Joker sprinted after his Persona, and the circle of Shadows broke formation, streaming after their intrepid intruder.
There were some things he could scale, he thought. If he turned a corner and scaled a building or tree, he might be able to lose them. If he was lucky he could exit the cognitive world in a place no one would see him. Ā
Joker picked up the pace and made distance. He wasn't a track star like Ryuji, but he'd spent his fair share of time on the treadmill. The distance would buy him time to make a sharp turn, skid around this corner, and thenā¦
"Where do you think you're going?"
Face-first into his target. Or chest-first, rather, since his target was a dog.
It was a very big dog, which didn't look that much like a dog at all. It was white all over and sported a lion's mane around its neck, and it had the tail of aā¦well, he wasn't sure, but it was weird. Certain experts of the collective unconscious referred to the beast as Cerberus, which he inherently disagreed with on account of its single head, but who was he to argue with the collective unconscious?
In the blink of an eye, the beast flattened him. Teeth clamped down on his shoulder. Joker grabbed at the face of the beast while Arsene wound his arms around Cerberus and pulled. Joker put a knife in the beastās eye, forcing it to let go. The hound thrashed in the gentleman-burglar's grip as Joker recovered his feet, and they all saw that the horde was once again closing in.
Lost my chance, Joker thought. As if hearing him, Arsene tossed his head down the way they had tried to disappear. Joker took to his heels and looked again for some kind of escape, even if it would only be a temporary reprieve from the chase. When he reached his next branching path, he reeled from sudden bouts of pain. Wounds showed along his arms and torso. No doubt his cognitive extension was under attack. He pressed a hand to his forehead and mentally clutched at his other self. Come on back, Arsene.
His mask reformed on his face, and he turned. Cerberus was barreling down the way, headed straight for him.
There's no outrunning a Cerberus. Joker clutched his phone and looked around. He was in an obscure enough spot. It was dark out, it didn't look like there were streetlamps hereā¦ Maybe if he went back, no one would see himā¦ If he was really lucky, no one would be there to see him.Ā
He pressed the Emergency Exit button on his app. The world folded in on him, pulled him in one direction, then another. He was dizzy. Adrenaline, blood loss, his brain's attempt to consolidate the shifting of dimensions, it was a normal reaction to have.
Then the clean night air of the human world hit him, and he gasped. Joker hit the floor--first the car next to him, and then the floor--and he went still. He listened to the sound of his own heartbeat for a moment. Still alive, he concluded. His eyes searched the area. No one there.
Wait.
He turned his head.
Someone was there. Right beside him.
Joker froze. Did they see him? It was dark out, but at this proximityā¦ And someone had their light on nearbyā¦ He likely made enough noise, too, to just attract attentionā¦Ā
Okay, fabricate. Why did I fall here? I was feeling woozy. I'm hurt because I got in a fight.Ā
Oh, wait. He was dressed like a phantom thief.Ā
Maybe they'll think I was cosplaying. Damn. Attempted burglary? No wait. Maybe not.
And so there Joker was, clutching his bleeding shoulder, trying to come up with a story so that this stranger would maybe not call the police on him.
Joker had the feeling heād been here before. The ground lurched gently under his feet, and the chandeliers swayed and twinkled. Someone steadied the punch bowl on the table nearby.
He cast his eyes about and saw the masked faces of the passengers. He idly remembered the mask on his own, and felt it was a completely natural consequence of being here. Chatter filled the air about the mundane things in life. He listened to one conversation, which had something to do with the daughter of some president turning up in a magazine. He listened to another, which had more to do with finals tomorrow.
Oh yeah, Joker thought, I should set my alarm. Iāll be late for finals again.
He checked his phone and saw the alarm was set for 15:00. He turned it back to 6:00.
Three seconds passed of him staring at the phone. Something wasnāt quite right, but he couldnāt put his finger on it. He put the phone in his pocket and looked around again. No one was immediately recognizable, so he proceeded down the carpeted way, unsure if he was taking the stairs or if it was a single corridor. He just knew he was making progress.
The layout of the cruise liner was familiar. Joker went up and down, looking at the rooms on either side. There was the room of an IT company president, another was the room of a well-known anchorwoman. If he went down another floor, he was sure Ryujiās room would be there.
Joker had the feeling he was about to miss an appointment, so he headed to the bow. There, he spotted Arsene standing straight at the edge, black wings fanned out on either side. Arsene was astonishingly tall between his bladed heel heels and the length of his hat, and with his who-knows-how-many-feet wingspan, awed any who stood in his shadow. Joker joined his side and looked where Arsene looked.
Red skies were reflected in the water, from which jutted the submerged buildings of Tokyo. The salty air ran through his hair and rustled the feathers on Arseneās wings. He did not know why they had an appointment there, but a quiet sense of expectation rooted Joker to his post. The buildings closed in on either side of the ship. Soon, there was no place to turn.
An obstacle rose up from the water in the distance. They headed straight for the obstruction. Joker acknowledged in his mind that the ship would collide with it, and they would all sink. He had no opinion of it one way or the other.
The ship closed the distanceā
Joker decided he had been asleep long enough and opened his eyes. A beam of sunlight snuck through the curtains, providing the sparsely-furnished room some relief from the darkness. Joker stared at the ceiling for a minute, reorienting himself in reality. He was on terra firma, in an apartment, by himself and with no classes or finals. He had a job to do today. Well, two. Baggage handling at the airport. Then, hunt down the shadow of Fugunaga Kogaro.
He grabbed his phone, which had an alarm set for 7:00, and saw the time was 6:55. He opened up his notes application and marked off the 31st tally for how many times heād had this dream.
Heād settled for run-down hotels, overgrown shacks, the underside of a spreading canopy. Tonight, he strutted among the ghosts of Nara Dreamland, fantasizing about the towering structures he could have been prowling on.
He was in the mood for heights, yet inexplicably found himself in the ruins of dreams. Perhaps it was an omen, or perhaps it was a reminder. The rubble crunched and parted under his heels, and the wind blew back the tails of his jacket, which whipped like the tail of a cat in thought.
Could have gone to a real amusement park, he thought. But the phantom supposed he wanted a change of scenery. Nara Dreamland was once an artifact of the past, and now it was hardly more than a memory. Circumstances had been unkind. No one wanted such an obsolete amusement park, so they just did away with the whole thing. There was a newer and better Dreamland in Maihama, which he had personally attended not three years ago.
Even in Maihama, death hung over them. He remembered the mental shutdown that was broadcast at the time of their visit to Dreamland. Good times, the phantom thought with a smile. That day scared the hell out of them. Now here he stood upon the corpse of another Dreamland, of which his childhood self had only read in pamphlets.
The buzz of his phone broke Joker from his reverie. He tilted his head and gave the thing a curt glance. Target Nearby, The App said.
āNo kidding,ā he murmured, opening the program. His targets sure loved to show up at the worst times. Well, nothing for it. Two birds with one stone, right?
Joker activated The App to begin his mission. And then he was gone, swept away to the world of demons.
