Chapter Text
The crowds littering Sae Niijima’s renowned Casino of Envy are all in shock at the events unfolding around them. What is supposed to be a normal night of debauchery and revelry promptly ended once the staff heard the alarm bells start to go off. As police detectives and federal agents begin to scour the premises for reasons unknown to the attendees, the more alert customers are able to spot a blur jumping between light fixtures, sometimes using a grappling hook to swing to different areas. Eventually though, the blur comes to a halt, and the police finally notice the predator in their midst.
Joker stands straight, allowing the cops to get a full glimpse of his profile, letting them appreciate who (no, what) in fact they are actually up against. The Phantom Thieves of Heart have remained an abstract concept to many for the last 6 months, having only struck out at the targets they felt deserved reformation, and using methods that the public would have no hope at deciphering in order to do so. While Niijima has been on the front lines trying to hunt them down for the sake of her ambitions, she and her officers really have no idea how to figure out who they are actually chasing. The only one who has managed to do so is in his company, though Joker trusts him as far as Morgana, who has just finished talking, could throw him. Speaking of which…
“This is our only chance!” Crow cries. Yeah, we know, Mr. Obvious. Joker grimaces, but tries to keep it subtle. There are appearances that need to be kept, after all. Futaba says something, but he doesn’t entirely catch it.
“We’ll retrieve the briefcase on our end.” Joker feels bad for Queen. They are already in a creepy casino run by the Shadow of her sister, and she still has to act like the team mom and keep everyone in line with the plan that she, Oracle, Mona, and Joker have come up with.
“Don’t worry about us. Just concentrate on getting away.” Got it. Joker takes off, now jumping between light fixtures with a purpose. As he moves, he can hear background chatter about how Skull wouldn’t have been able to pull off the moves Joker did. Well, of course, I am one of a kind after all. However, as the first choice for his escape route comes into sight, he can see guards emerging from it, ready for action. Joker curses under his breath and turns to a different direction as Mona and Noir start talking to the rest of the group about the escape plans.
The balcony above the entrance has a neon sign perfect for grabbing onto, and Joker swings from that to land on the balcony. As he makes his way to the stairs, two Shadows block the stairs, and somehow another Shadow has managed to sneak up behind him by dropping from the ceiling. Pulling off a flip that has become second nature to him by this point, he grabs the mask of the Shadow. “Take ‘em down, Joker!” Oracle yells, and he does, making quick work of the Sacrificial Pyrekeeper with his gun and knife. No need to even call forth one of his many Personas, though he does end up taking a couple of Agidynes in the process. Three other Shadows shows up, but Joker has had enough, and flips to land on top of a pillar, which he uses to propel himself up to a service exit.
Apparently, this was the right call, as Oracle says that he should be able to make it out of the casino from where he ended up. Skull is wondering if everyone can hear each other, which Joker knows is more than just a simple question. Communication and the appearance of it is crucial to this plan. However, the voice he wants to hear the most is staying silent.
“I’m sensing a lot of Shadows headed towards Joker’s position. Run!” Joker takes off, observing the slogans littering the walls in the process. He ends up having to duck, hide and crouch for a few seconds to throw one of the agents off his back, then runs up the stairs, but has to hide again.
Crow has something to say, as usual. “Everything ok?” Yep, just fabulous. “The security level might rise if you take too much time.” No shit. Why don’t you come down here and give me a hand, or better yet, back off, smartass.
Luckily for everyone’s tempers, Futaba notices a socket for his grappling hook, and Joker swings from it, preventing him from indulging in a few swear words into his comm. Even though most of his team has seen some of his dorkier moments, in the field he is their leader, and he has a persona (heh) to maintain. He lands on a catwalk and keeps going, ending up in a storage room.
Joker pauses for a second to gather his bearings, but that’s almost too long, and he barely manages to flip away from two Shadows who spring up from underneath him. The problem is that the flip put him in fertile ground to be attacked by four more Shadows.
Joker’s looking around, trying to see if there’s any way out of this situation. Please God, if you don’t hate me, give me a place where I can fire my grappling hook. It’s the least you can do for the last few months. It seems like God’s feeling generous today, apparently. As he looks to the ceiling and sees a socket for his hook, a blur of silver, black and red falls from it towards him, spinning a rapier and clearing a wide arc for him as she somersaults to a landing. Three of the slower Shadows are the unlucky recipients of the vortex, and they melt away. The other three Shadows manage to leap back, staring warily at the two black-clad masked figures.
Joker’s jaw drops in awe at what he just witnessed. His eyes manage to keep their focus though, and they notice another spot for the grappling hook. He fires, and the woman next to his side notices the noise. “Shall we?” she purrs.
Joker grins, and holds on tight as she jumps into his arms. She grabs on to his neck, and they climb higher. He then shifts his body so that they start spinning along with the wire, bodies pressed together (not that it’s really a new feeling anymore), and they unleash a hailstorm of bullets that melt the Shadow receiving the most direct fire. Joker throws her up so that she can finish things, and she falls to the floor gracefully, unleashing her sword against the last two Shadows in a blur of speed, acrobatics, and finesse that makes quick work of them. Joker lets the hook go so that he can land, and the woman immediately grabs his hand. “Don’t forget the pose!” she calls, and Joker can’t help but grin audaciously and dip her. This woman will be the death of me, but man, what a way to go. Doesn’t get much better than this. She lifts her body back up and pulls Joker in for a fierce kiss.
Joker leans in, spreading his hands under her jacket and over the back of her leotard to pull her in closer. She sighs into the kiss, which slightly short-circuits Joker’s brain. “I thought you were gonna escape with the others?” Joker murmurs, once they have finally separated and his brain has regained its logic capacities. “Also, how did no one notice you?” She blushes, which is a rarer sight than it used to be.
“Oh, we did.” Skull chimes in, and Joker can picture the shit-eating grin he has on his face right now.
“Iris and I are gonna have words later.” He can hear the glare in Queen’s voice, and he sees Iris shudder out of corner of his eye. Yeah, as miserable as things might get for me, at least I’m not gonna be on the end of that lecture. Instead, I get the older model.
“I just thought it was too cute to call out.” Panther chuckles. Of course you did.
“Nevertheless, it worked out in our favor. For now, at least.” Crow says, trying to get them back on track. Try to be a bit less obvious?
“Iris, climb the shelves and make your way to the vent. If my maps are correct, it should lead you back to the rendezvous point. I can give you better directions once you’re in the vents. Joker, you gotta get out of there! Go!” Oracle, for once, brings them back on task.
Joker is about to take off, but Iris pulls him back in for another kiss. She reaches next to his ear to turn off his comm. “We still have unfinished business. Don’t forget the promise you made me,” she whispers into his ear. There are tears in her eyes, and Joker wipes them away gently before kissing her forehead. “I’ll come back to you. You still owe me for that dance.” She whimpers but nods. He nods back, and she lets go. She jumps to the top of the shelves, and he turns his head away, before turning on his comm. Right, back on task.
“Just a little further past the stairs, so hang in there!” Running up the stairs, he sees another window, except inside this window is a series of data collectors with a few officers inside trying to keep tabs on everything. He scoots by them in a hurry, climbing further up. Reaching the 8th floor, he goes down the hall to a door, which leads him to a pavilion that overlooks the entrance to the center. The officers hot on his trail, Joker uses the railing to get a step ahead of them, making it to the stained-glass window.
“See ya.” Joker can’t help but salute and flip off the officers before he crashes through the window. Oracle, Panther and Noir all groan at his recklessness, but Fox appreciates the theatrics for what they are.
As soon as he lands, Joker rolls to minimize strain, and stands back up. Everything is ominously dark, and then–
“Enemies here! What’s wrong?! These readings?! It can’t be!” Joker’s senses are overloading with light and sound. Try not to panic. Deep breaths.
“Joker, can you handle this?” Yeah, but we all know that’s not the point.
Iris stays quiet, though there is a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob. Joker guesses it’s either because she’s in the vents and doesn’t want to get caught, or because she’s not sure she’ll say anything coherent, but it doesn’t matter. We said what we wanted to say earlier.
There’s no point in saying anything to the rest. I have to focus. He takes off, trying to make it to a ladder. He scrambles onto the ladder and barely makes it to the top when he sees the butt end of a gun flying at his face. He somehow dodges it, but it costs him his grip on the ladder, and he falls to the floor in a crumpled heap. A plainclothes cop approaches him.
“Didn’t expect to find some kid in charge here. You have your teammate to thank for this.” Yeah, and the fact that we had to break standard operating procedure – “You were sold out” – to catch his traitor ass. He has to sell the act though, so he loses his resistance and allows his head to flop back to the floor, as he feels the bite of handcuffs closing on his wrists for the second time in a year.
At some point in his black-bagged ride to the police station, Ren felt a certain wooziness and nausea and the feel of starched academic clothes against his skin, and he knew that he was back in the real world.
The cops sitting next to him both jolted, and one of them had to open the window. Guess they weren’t used to the change in scenery yet.
It was only a few more minutes of silence from that point until the police station. Ren sat still, trying to collect his thoughts and focus on the next steps of the plan for him.
Ren’s dragged out of the car, and before he can even move, there’s pain erupting throughout his midsection, causing him to hunch over. The officers don’t seem to have any sympathy for him.
“Get moving, punk.” You guys shackled my legs, how am I supposed to do that.
Another officer gives him a hard shove, and he almost loses his balance, just recovering at the last second. The officer who shoved him then notices the shackles, and removes them, which allows him to follow the command. He’s just finished taking the customary photos when a needle is jammed into the side of his neck, and he can feel the drugs running through his system as he fights to stay conscious. Motherfucker. Well here comes the fun–
The next few hours are a blur of drugs, fists, and questions bombarding his system. He refuses to say anything to the officers, but he doesn’t think they even care about that. Fucking pricks are trying to act like heroes but they’re really just trying to get their rocks off. Eventually, one of the doses they give him is too strong, and he lapses back into unconsciousness. When he comes to again, his hands are behind the chair he’s sitting in, and there’s 3 agents in the room. As his vision clears, he can see a camera, but that’s thrown off when a kick lands in his side and he’s thrown across the room and off a chair. Something is pressed against his head. Well, this is gonna be painful.
“Come on, cooperate. Or what, you want another shot?” Ren grits his teeth and tries to take another look at the camera. I’m not gonna give them the dignity of looking them in the eye. The officer has another idea though, and grabs Ren’s hair.
“There’s nothing and no one in here that’s gonna save a piece of trash like you!” At the last word, another kick lands against his stomach, and another jolt of pain flashes through him. He can’t help but cough as all of the air is violently expelled from his lungs. As he wheezes, the officer grabs a clipboard from one of other men in the room. A list of crimes he’s being charged with is read out to him. Manslaughter? I’m surprised they didn’t just dial it up to murder.
“You must have been enjoying every second of it, right? You should know your place in this world.” The cuffs are finally removed from his wrists, but because he can’t have nice things, he’s shoved down onto the floor again. He sits up and rubs his wrist. I fucking hate that shit.
A confession is placed in front of him. They ask him to sign it. He tries to push it away, but the amount of pressure they place on his knee is too much to ignore. Sorry Ryuji, I’m not looking to join your club here.
“One must take full responsibility for their actions,” the sanctimonious brutality-loving asshole in front of him says as he’s signing the confession. I hope you take full responsibility for this bullshit then. One of the officers who’s been watching then leaves the room. Ren can hear the stamps of high-heeled footsteps right near the door. There’s some sort of discussion outside that he can barely make out, but he’s a little busy trying to regain enough of his strength to not collapse against the desk that he’s sitting in front of to hear specifics.
The door opens as he’s finally able to sit, hunched against the desk. The officers have all left the room, so it’s just him and Sae Niijima facing each other. She seems a little shocked, both by his appearance and the sight of the needle on the floor.
“Can you hear me? It seems like you’ve had a rough time, sadly I can’t do much to change that.” She sounds a little upset, but not enough for Ren’s liking. She moves on though before he can say anything about it.
“I need you to answer me quickly. Why did you do all of this? How did you do all of this? You’ve driven the country and myself on a goose chase for the last 6 months.” You’re still trying to build your case, aren’t you?
“Why do you need to know?” Ren grunts to her. Either she doesn’t care about her tone or she’s too used to it, because she surprisingly lets it slide.
“This isn’t an issue of whether or not it can be used in court. I just want to know for the sake of my case.” She admits. It seems like our plan has already started working.
“When and where did you find out about that world? How is it even possible to steal someone’s heart? I want to know everything.” Well, it’s a long story, so strap in.
Ren sighs. Right as he’s about to start talking, a blue butterfly crosses the room and he hears a faint voice cry out, “…you are held captive.” No shit. She continues, “A prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance.” So, she knows about the “ruin” Igor and the twins keep talking about. Who is this?! “This is truly an unjust game, one that you have almost no chance of winning. But if you can hear me, we might be able to forge a new path for you. The key to this lies in your memory of the bonds you have formed with your friends and allies, and the truths you have grasped with them. For the sake of the world’s future, and your own, you must remember…” The butterfly, and the voice with it, both fade out of his cognition. Alright, let’s do this. I’m not about to give up now.
The Trickster leans forward, ready to start the game. “It started about 7 months ago, at the beginning of April for me…”