A/N: Well, this chapter turned out a lot longer than intended... Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoy the update! For anyone interested in more JokeSaku content, you can check out my Tumblr account under the same username. Timeinhereyes started a Discord server for the pairing (where I'm an Admin), so message either of us if you'd like to join!

"Gahh!" Screaming out is useless, but is the only thing he's capable of doing now. The straps dig deeper from the constant flailing, cutting off his circulation. Not a word comes from the guard pulling the gurney down the hall. Everything is dead silent except for the angry hissing and shouts from the clown.

The searing pain in his arm intensifies from the pointless fight against the restraints. It's as if hellfire itself replaced the blood coursing through his veins, only seconds away from bursting through and scorching him alive.

None of that matters.

If anything, he feels more animate from the intensity than ever before. Let it fry him to a crisp. Everything burns sooner or later, anyway.

The agonizing sensations roaring through his body are nothing. No one revels in pain the way he does. Dealing out hefty helpings or drinking it all in… Joker lives for it.

That's not the issue… It's that he has no fucking idea what the hell's going on.

"You little shit… I'm going to tear your stomach open and spill any guts left onto the floor… Gouge those eyes out with a spoon... Peel that pretty face off with my fingers... Use your skull for a piss pot…" The threats keep spilling out in deep growls, dropping to the furthest octave his voice is capable of. All laced in between harsh attempts to force oxygen into is his lungs. Dark eyes piece into the guard's back, ignoring how the younger man's shoulders raise up as his head hangs low.

Terry glances back hesitantly with beads of sweat trailing down the sides of his face. Instantly he regrets it when meeting the clown's gaze, almost stumbling from the murderous glare coming from beneath Joker's heavy lids. Wide, dark pools of ink, full of malice that chills him straight to the bone.

"I—I'm just doing my job…" The guard mumbles as he whips his head around, unable to hold eye-contact for more than a few seconds. It's the only way to stop himself from cracking under the pressure.

"Ya won't be for long. Guarantee tha-t!" The younger man visibly stiffens at the promise but keeps going. Picking up the pace, the gurney skids, banging against a wall in Terry's rush to get rid of the clown.

"For fuck's sake, brat!" Joker hisses as his side collides with the hard surface, sending jolts of electrical heat down the broken mess that should've been an arm. Giving up on struggling, he bangs the back of his head against the metal, rolling it from one side to the other. What the hell is this? Nothing makes sense... Unless this is all a dream? It's never been this difficult to distinguish what's real or not.

The dreams, illusions, fantasies, pain, pleasure… Arkham might actually drive him mad this time.

Closing his eyes, he tries to take in a deep breath and clear everything out. Being the master of tricks, there has to be an explanation for what happened. Gotham is full of strange people with unusual abilities, so a woman shifting into a different form isn't that wild, right? Yes… If he just ignores his side and thinks, then everything will make sense.

'Healing… Gorilla strength… Shape-shifting? What else can the witch do? She better heal my arm or I'm going to fuck her up…'

Is she even alive? Taking a pen near the jugular isn't a joke, and most would die from bleeding out alone. Why did that little shit act like he didn't even see her? What orders is he following? Why go through all that trouble?

"I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. You know, in private."

What the hell did she want to talk about? Last night? The cards?

"J-block, huh? What, you want to go see your girlfriend up there? Get your cards back?"

That bitch… He should kill her for fucking with him like this. If it wasn't himself constantly on the receiving end, it'd be quite impressive. It's been a long time since running into a person with so many tools under their belt. Most in the underground are one-trick ponies that hone a skill until it's profitable or a pain in the ass for others to deal with.

And this woman… has an entire arsenal at her disposal.

The moment he wraps his head around one, another comes out of nowhere to punch him straight in the gut. Each more violent and perplexing than the last. This fallacious little witch's appearance is nothing more than a trick to cause others to underestimate her… until the moment she punches them through a wall.

"Ha… Haha… HAHAHA!" The guard jumps at the booming noise shaking the entire gurney, letting out a squeak in surprise. The laughter turns into hysterics, setting the younger man on edge. Everyone knows that sound and what follows it…

Ignoring the pain, Joker keeps his eyes squeezed shut as images and plans form behind his shadowy lids. Keeping a clear head makes this so much easier. Finding the humor in life and everything it throws his way brings a strange sense of clarity at the most opportune times.

'How funny… I already tried to kill her a few times and failed. How ironic would it be to actually succeed when I don't mean to? Hah! Fuckin' hilarious…'

Does he actually want Sakura to die? The act has played out in his fantasies so often, it's not even funny. For weeks, the pinkette's demise had been a constant dream he planned on making a reality.

The insults… utter disrespect… unwanted words and touches… Joker has killed for far less.

"You… I think I'm going to, ah, keep you, after all, Sakura."

That's right... Just last night he said that to her before the breakout. When they were alone in her cell together. It's still not over. Nope… The whole point of keeping himself locked up all this extra time was to not leave empty-handed. If he kills Sakura or she ends up dying, then that's exactly what'll happen. The new plans involve her and that strange magic she wields. The endgame was to draw the Batman out of his cave and have fun along the way. The pinkette's an integral part of bringing that to fruition.

'Do I even need her to do that? Is it worth the trouble? Sure, she packs a wallop, but there's no guarantee everything will work out. There's still blondie… She'll be easier to manipulate, yet not nearly as useful. I can get his attention on my own. Who needs these fucking broads?!'

Joker disrupted the entire hierarchy of Gotham with a few small moves on the chessboard. Had the city submerged in complete chaos with just a couple of bullets and drums of gas. A single threat on the news had thousands of people running for the hills. One dead Batman impersonator stopped the rest of the wannabe vigilante group in its tracks.

No, he doesn't need anyone to pull off his schemes. He's been a one-man show right from the very beginning. That's how it always is, no matter how many men fall under his 'employment'. The clown is the brains behind every operation. A comedian who laughs at his own jokes and couldn't care less if another soul gets it.

Still…

Curling his lips into a snarl, a little bug crawls into the dark crevices of his mind. One that should've been squashed beneath his foot a while ago. There might be a chance the pain is sending him into a state of delirium, but that's doubtful. There's never been enough to get the clown to that point before. Not even when his face was carved into…

Yeah, he doesn't need Sakura to pull off his plans, even if it might speed up the process. It's agonizing to even acknowledge the possibility of what his despicable mind is thinking of. If the restraints weren't in the way, he might've bashed his skull against the wall for this loathsome monster trying to find a resting place in his thoughts.

Joker might not need the witch for anything, but he still wants her.

'Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!'

It's true… And that only makes him angrier. This is his fault for letting it happen. That first day the pigs dragged him in, he was the one who initiated their little strife. She didn't spare him a single glance until he started trying to antagonize her. The pinkette didn't come to him or even tried bothering to. Most of the time, she blatantly ignored him, sometimes for days at a time. The clown was the one doing all the pushing right from the get-go, and now it's put him in a spot he never imagined finding himself in.

Aside from toying with Batman, when was the last time he actually wanted something? Or anyone?

Drawing a blank, Joker's nails dig into the flesh of his palms. This is complete bullshit, and he regrets not ending this from the start. He never should've looked in that witch's direction or said a word.

'Even if I want Sakura, that doesn't mean I can't use her.'

That train of thought helps quell some of the rage blossoming in his chest. Yesterday, Joker said he plans on keeping her. Being a man of his word, that has to happen. The benefits far outweigh the cons. She's too good of a tool not to use while having a grand ol' time along the way. Getting inside her head and heart will be tedious, but worthwhile. A weapon with so many fantastic features will really come in handy during his next act.

'Healing, speed, strength, shape-shifting, body manipulation. There's probably more. Lot's more. I'm gonna find out everything that's hiding beneath that soft exterior.'

Those dreams… They must be a fucked-up way of his mind lashing out against him for denying his urges. Maybe he really is delirious to be thinking about that now, when a quarter of his body is shattered. Things that shouldn't matter.

How pleasant Sakura smells. The way her skin feels on the calloused pads of his fingers. Listening to how fast her pulse is racing when his hands coiled around that scrawny throat. The silky texture of her pink hair when it's wrapped around his fist. How soft her lips are against his ruined mouth.

Who knows how much of it is real or made-up anymore, but he's going to figure it out. Joker already said he plans on keeping her, and that's all the pinkette needs to know. She didn't argue or flat out reject the idea. The witch practically gave her consent by doing that. Perhaps she's not opposed to the thought of being his?

'That settles it then. Can't kill that bitch over some cards, now. Play it smart. There's nothing to lose, but so much to gain. Even if she ends up crushing me, I'll still have the last laugh.'

Sakura came to him to talk in private. She was taking the restraints off for a reason. About what? Maybe she wanted a quick screw while no one was around?

'Then why was that little shit hanging around the hallway? Fuck… I need answers.'

If the witch wants to take a ride on a broomstick, he's got wood for days. It's been playing out in his dreams for a while now, causing an increasing amount of pent up frustration. Taking some of that out on her body might help clear the fog clouding his mind for the last weeks. Sex has never been a priority, but he's still a man with needs that have to be sated every so often.

An incredible weapon he can fuck every which way whenever the urge arises… Now that's having his cake and eating it, too.

A laugh builds up in his chest at the thought. This is going to be good. He just needs to get that little witch wrapped around his fingers, first. Her interest is already piqued. Now to move onto the next step.

"Thank you, Terry."

The sound of a familiar voice causes his eyes to pop open. White. Everything is so damn white. They shouldn't be here already… It's only been maybe a few minutes at most since leaving the room where he—

'Where I stabbed Sakura… The witch should be fine, right? She was healing herself. That magic is strong. Something like that wouldn't kill her. This new boy-toy said he was following orders. This was all orchestrated for a reason… To see my reaction? What does she have on this dumbass to make him a gofer?'

That doesn't matter right now. They're already in Jerry's dungeon despite only a couple minutes passing. The clown knows the asylum like the back of his hand, and something isn't right. That room is multiple hallways away, and it should've taken longer to get here.

"What?!" Joker shouts, causing the nurse walking near the gurney to jolt, dropping a syringe on the floor.

The pain in his side… It's completely gone.

Dark eyes widen as he moves his fingers around, staring down in shock. The bones were completely shattered into fragments, yet... everything's suddenly in place. Whole and uninjured, like nothing ever happened.

'Bullshit! I felt each one being crushed. What the fuck's going on, now?!'

"Patient 0801. Please calm down. We're making preparations for your therapy session with Dr. Arkham. He should be here any—"

"Ya both can piss off." The clown grumbles mindlessly, watching his wrist rotating beneath the restraint. He doesn't give two-shits about the nurse, Jerry, or the goddamn shock treatment. They've been happening so often, it's almost as common as dinnertime these days. Last night mustn't have caused enough ruckus if that old fart still finds time to electrocute people. Either that or he wants to get some frustration out by using the clown as an outlet.

This doesn't make sense. Is this another piece of shit dream?

"What's wrong, clown?" Hearing the voice from above, Joker tears his gaze away from the fully functional arm tied to the gurney, up towards the guard standing barely a foot away. Even if the sound is different, he knows that arrogant tone anywhere.

The Middle-Eastern man from earlier stares down at him with a cocky grin plastered on his face. No blood down the front of the uniform. No terrible wound on the neck. Nothing. It's as if what happened in the room never transpired.

Clenching his jaw, the clown wants to shout every curse known to man in their direction. To make accusations and demand to know what's going on. If there wasn't anyone else in the room, that's exactly what would happen. The nurses will just claim he's having a 'psychotic episode' again and pump him with even more drugs.

"I don't know. Why dontcha tell me, witch." Hissing out angrily, his agitation grows to new heights as the guard gives him a toothy smile.

"Nothing's wrong on my end. Actually, I'm very pleased. Didn't think you'd get so worked up over me being hurt. Honestly, it was quite touching." The sorceress keeps her voice low so the other's moving about won't hear them. "Though I'm surprised how quickly you went in for the kill… That's not very nice, now is it?"

"Would you shut the fuck up?!" He growls through his teeth, wanting nothing more than to dig them into her neck. Breaking her skin in his jaws would be the only thing that might bring him some satisfaction.

Sighing out, the guard moves closer, but not enough for Joker to do anything. He could spit a wad right into the witch's face, but that'll only end badly for him. This time, she might actually smash his bones to dust, or the other staff with beat him senseless with their nightsticks. Can't exactly enjoy shock therapy with a broken body…

"And here I thought we were starting to get along! Well, until you tried to strangle me last night. You know, you really know how to ruin a good time." She lets out 'tsk' while looking at him disapprovingly. Part of him can imagine her wagging a finger like she's berating a pissy child.

Glaring at the man hovering above him, it's really hard to take her seriously with that appearance. If Joker didn't know she was a witch, he'd definitely be under the assumption this is a poor attempt at gaslighting.

'Heh! So, she was having a good time, after all. Good to know…'

For some ungodly reason, the anger tearing at his insides begins to wane. Maybe it's another one of her spells… Who knows? At least his arm isn't shattered into a million pieces. Getting electrocuted on top of that wasn't exactly his idea of how to start this day off, even if it might be fun.

"Is that why ya pulled that little trick? Hmm? To fuck with my head?" It's a struggle to keep his voice down so the numbskulls don't hear them. They're so focused on banging shit around and preparing for the session, he doubts any of them notice the conversation going on.

"It's called a genjutsu. I've been practicing. Not bad, huh?" The guard's smirk widens, looking positively pleased with herself. The expression might've been endearing on her actual face, instead of this ugly mug. "Just an illusion. That's all…"

"Heh! 'That's all', my ass, you bitch! I felt every single thing!" An illusion… That explains what happened and how neither of them are hurt. So, she was never in any real danger, after all? This entire ordeal just made him look like an ass. Again. If the witch thinks she's getting away with this unscathed, she's sorely mistaken.

"Tch. Don't be such a baby. Do you think you can just stab anyone you want without any repercussions?" Arching a brow, the pinkette-in-an-ugly-disguise can't wipe the shit-eating grin from her face.

"Yeah." His lips curl back, baring his teeth to the deceptive witch looking down at him. Seeing the sudden look of disgust on her face causes him to cackle, enjoying the discomfort he's able to elicit. Despite the piercing noise causing everyone in the room to jump, something in his stomach twists. It feels like his intestines have a mind of their own, coiling around themselves and knotting up.

Joker isn't sure what it's from or why it's happening. Did Sakura make that expression because of his teeth? She's made comments before about wanting to hold him down and clean them. Or is it how nonchalant he is about jumping to violence and not giving a damn what happens next?

'Who gives a shit? The little witch is gonna have to deal with it 'cause I ain't changin' for no one.'

"I don't think of you like that at all. There are no stupid ideals I want to push onto you. I like the monster you already are... Don't want to change any of it. I know what we both are and so do you... We're not the good guys in this story.

His eyes droop from watching the man/woman staring at him as the laughter dies down. Sakura said that yesterday… What's going on in that head of hers? She must be off her rocker. Then again, who isn't?

Breathing out softly, she pinches the bridge of her nose and saunters away from the gurney, taking a spot against the counter. Joker stares at her retreating form intently, trying to mentally replace that horrid form he's watching with the pinkette's. If there was ever a huge turn-off, this is it. Hands down. Next time they're alone, he's going to let the witch know if she ever comes to him in another's body, she'll get a pen in the neck for real.

'Actually, this is really useful…'

Despite being visually disgusting, it's an ingenious ploy to maneuver around the asylum without raising suspicion. She'd be able to come to him without throwing the entire block into a state of emergency. What happens if they check her cell? Surely the witch isn't that careless? She covers all her tracks, so there must be some kind of trick to throw them off.

'Those morons are so dumb, she probably wrapped a sheet around a pillow and they can't tell the difference.'

"Please try to keep still, Patient 0801." Before Joker realizes what's happening from focusing on the witch, a syringe full of yellow-tinted fluid pierces his neck. Snapping his jaw, the plunger is quickly pushed down as liquid ice enters his veins. "Shh… Just calm down."

The same male-nurse who always does this is fast and efficient, earning a nice spot on the to-do list.

"Goddammit!" The clown shouts, trying to ignore the heat in his neck. An icy sensation runs through the rest of him as the medication invades his bloodstream. Grunting, he works his jaw around, hoping to suppress a chill threatening to make his teeth chatter. No way in hell that's happening with the unwanted audience in the room.

"Hey! Try not to be so damn heavy-handed, will you?!" Sakura's male form spits out at the nurse, shooting daggers right at him. It's a surprise she said anything in his defense. Wouldn't the little witch enjoy watching him suffer?

'Is that why she's standing there? Does Sakura really plan on staying the entire session? Get the fuck out of here!'

It's no secret Joker is a shameless man. He's never denied it, even once. There's almost nothing that can genuinely embarrass the clown. Despite that… The thought of the pinkette standing here while he's being electrocuted bothers the hell out of him.

Swallowing hard, he stares at the man leaning against the counter. No, at Sakura… Trying to curse her out with his eyes without saying a single word. He doesn't want her here, to see him in that kind of state. Convulsing and writhing under Jerry's gentle touch with drool running down his chin. How will that look to her? Someone who manipulates the guards and can punch through bulletproof glass with ease? If anything could come close to humiliating him to the next degree, this is it.

'Get out… Just fucking leave already. You're not wanted here, witch… Take a goddamn hike!'

Sakura stares at him intently from across the room, not even blinking. It's almost unnerving to see that familiar look in someone else's eyes, even if he knows it's her underneath. If she was in her own form, he'd put up far more of a fight. Having another person standing there almost makes it a little easier.

The pinkette stealing his cards and knocking him out seems like it occurred long ago, not even at the forefront of his mind anymore. Those are trivial matters, even if he handled them badly. Those can be dealt with, but this? How is she going to take the clown seriously after watching someone get the best of him? Strapped to a gurney while a madman shocks him half to death? Usually, it's the other way around and this isn't nearly as much fun.

Only distantly Joker hears Jerry's voice talking to an orderly while shuffling papers around. He couldn't give a rats-ass about that prick. Old-man Arkham will get his soon enough… When the time's right. All he cares about is trying to communicate to the pinkette to leave without drawing anyone's attention.

"Don't touch me, asshole!" He growls out menacingly when a nurse slaps conductant on his temples with a tongue depressor. After doing this day-after-day, the staff is becoming slightly less afraid of getting too close. They're still hesitant and easily jump when he lashes out, but try their best to get the job quickly done.

Shooting his gaze back towards Sakura, he wants to slap her across the face for the expression she's making. It almost looks as if she's sympathizing with him, maybe even feels sorry for what's happening. For some reason, that bothers him a lot more than the smirk she was wearing just minutes ago. The clown doesn't want anyone's goddamn pity.

One of these days, he's going to murder every single person in this fucking asylum.

Closing her eyes, the pinkette lets out a deep breath before pushing off the counter. Breaking eye contact, she turns away and heads towards the door to Joker's surprised relief. That fact that he's relieved only agitates him further. Why should this little woman's opinion matter at all? When the hell did he ever care how someone saw him? What they thought?

'Unbelievable… This place is turning my twisted wires into a jumbled heap. I need to get out of here, and soon. As many times as I've been locked up, it's never been like this.'

"Where you going, Yosef?" The male nurse that Joker hates with a burning passion calls out to Sakura when she reaches for the handle. Gritting his teeth, Joker swears to himself that this man will have a gruesome death when the chance arises. "We need you here to help with the patient. We're understaffed as it is. This one's a handful, so don't go anywhere."

"Gotta piss. Can't hold it any longer" The guard shrugs nonchalantly, not sparing the clown a single glance. "Besides, the man is more tied up than a Kinbaku performer. Don't think he's going anywhere."

Clicking his tongue, the nurse grunts as he slides a cart alongside the gurney. What's left of the staff has been called into work overtime since last night's debacle. The fatigue from dealing with so many inmates in such a short span of time is painted all over their tired features. The orderlies, nurses, technicians, doctors, guards, and especially Jerry, are all feeling the aftermath of the breakout…

A Joker's ecstatic about it. Serves them right for being so careless.

"Hahaha!" Even if he's the one that's 'tied up' and fuming, it's still funny. Laughter makes everyone around him uncomfortable, which is exactly what he wants. It's one of the few things that can brighten his spirits at the moment, aside from Jerry accidentally falling onto the machinery and electrocuting himself to death.

'Tch! I'm not that lucky. What a show that'd make… That's giving me more ideas. So are kinbaku and Sakura. Seeing her strung up in ropes would be quit-e a spectacle…'

"Can't that wait? I—"

"Marcos, don't worry about it. I think we can handle the patient as is." Jerry drops a file on the counter and pushes up his glasses, observing the clown over the rim. "You, just go." He waves off the guard at the door without taking those beady little eyes away from the gurney. It doesn't escape Joker's notice how out of sorts the older man appears today. His light brown hair sticking up in every direction from running his fingers through. The stern expression switches out for one of lethargy and annoyance. This asylum seems to be getting the best of him, too.

'Now, he really looks like a mad doctor. Heheh! Just a few more cracks before the dam bursts.'

Slowly dragging his gaze from the madman, dark eyes carefully watch the phony guard grasping the handle, but not opening it. A beat passes while the techs prepare for the 'treatment' to fry his brain to a crisp. Making sure the electrodes are fired up and ready.

'Get out already, ya bitch!'

Trying to keep the witch in his peripheral, Joker looks at Jerry, whose temperament seems to have changed. He appears to be in a better mood at the prospect of their session. A true masochist, through and through. If it wasn't himself on the chopping block, the clown might've appreciated that. Still, he despises trash who takes advantage of their position and pretends to be some upstanding citizen.

Finally making up her mind, Sakura quickly wrenches open the door and heads out, letting it slam behind her. She didn't look back at the clown once. That irks him far more than it should.

'I don't care… Couldn't give two-shits. Fucking brat… Witch. Snob. Hussy. Let's see how much she enjoys jokes and the cold-shoulder later. Hmm? Bet she won't like tha-t!'

Dark eyes narrow on the door as the insults keep floating through his mind. The last thing he should be concerned with is Sakura not looking back when there's a mad doctor preparing to shock him. Just another day in the life…

"So…" Glancing at the older man standing next to the gurney, Joker gives a large, toothy smile. Seeing the doctor's disgusted expression at his gnarly teeth, the clown cackles loudly, causing one orderly to back away. "We gonna get this, ah, show on the road, ya old fart?

"Of course, Patient 0801…" Jeremiah smiles wide when the tech hands over the electrode, looking down at him with disdain.

"What a moron." Sakura shakes her head on the way down the hall, hearing the booming laughter resonating from all sides. It's practically bouncing off the walls like he's having the time of his life in there.

'Who the hell laughs during electroconvulsive therapy?'

The Joker… That's who.

A small giggle slips through her lips at the thought. What a strange man… The voltage on those machines barely has any effect on her, but to the average human in this world, they could cause some serious damage.

She's been through those 'sessions' many times over the years and frankly, it's nothing impressive. Genin from the academy can give her a better jolt during practice. However, people in this world don't possess chakra or the physical constitution to withstand high voltages. Well, most can't… There are a few special cases for the latter. Even some that possess abilities that control the elements.

'How many times have they shocked that bastard?'

Not that he doesn't deserve it… The clown is the biggest asshole around. Possibly the biggest one she's ever met. Still, part of her doesn't like what's going on. Maybe it's just the medic in her that wants to intervene. It would be nothing to walk in there and drag him out. There isn't a soul in that room who could stop her.

Sighing, Sakura wonders why she even cares. This was just supposed to be a game. Something to pass the time while getting on Joker's last nerve. After all, she probably wouldn't have said a word to him if he wasn't so damn persistent. The pinkette's been confined across from others for much longer without conversing with them even once.

Slipping a hand into the uniform pocket, the tips of her fingers softly graze the two cards resting there. The Queen of Hearts and Jack of Spades. They mean something to him. The clown wouldn't keep them separated otherwise. He's definitely not the sentimental-type.

Rounding a corner to a dimly lit hall, she's grateful for the difference. That newly renovated one that Jeremiah likes to conduct his 'sessions' in is too bright for her liking. It's such a contrast compared to the rest of the asylum.

"Hahh…" This is all so confusing. No matter what happens, they both keep intervening or meeting with each other. She didn't have to pull this little stunt, even if it was very informative. Maybe it's a bit immature, but she wanted to know. Joker has shown he's not above pulling tricks or manipulation, so is it wrong for her to do the same?

'J said before that he's the only one allowed to kill me. Even if it wasn't intentional, his reaction said enough. I bet that bastard will say it wasn't on his terms as a bullshit excuse.'

God forbid that asshole admits to anything. He doesn't want her dead, even if it's by his own hand… That doesn't mean she can let down her guard, though. One minute they were dancing, then he was reaching for her throat. Things can change in a split-second with that man.

Captain of the USS Denial… Big time denial. She's never met someone who was so deep in it. What kind of jerk would rather strangle a woman than accept he might like her?

"Bakayarō!" The moment it slips out, Sakura slaps a hand against the stubble around her disguise's mouth. Wide, green eyes dart back and forth to make sure no one's nearby that might've heard the mistake.

'Fucking hell… Calm down, idiot! You're talking in Yosef's voice… No one knows who you really are except for Bozo.'

A strained laugh comes out at the realization. It's been so long since using 'Henge no Jutsu' on top of being distracted that she wasn't thinking properly.

Leaning up against a wall, a heavy breath of relief comes out as the pinkette's rattled nerves settle back down. That mistake hasn't been made in a long time… The pinkette always tries her best to speak English only. Getting rid of the accent took some time, but is something she likes to think is perfected by now.

"I can't believe I did that." Sakura whispers softly, running a hand across her forehead. This isn't good… Lately, more mistakes are being made from carelessness, with the clown being the first. Sliding down to the floor, she can still make out the manic hysterics coming from the other hall.

'Why am I letting this happen? How do I truly feel?'

It's clear this isn't just a game any longer. Not some 'tit-for-tat' or 'who gets murdered first' competition now. Honestly, Sakura didn't want to kill him, but will still defend herself. He's the one that wanted to play it this way. Despite that, the rules of the game have changed. Clearly, neither wants the other to die.

They've spent a lot of time talking, pissing the other off, joking, causing harm, and even kissed. What does that mean? The pinkette really has nothing to go off. She's never had a boyfriend or partner before… The only man in her life has only been Sasuke, and that was entirely one-sided. He never showed any interest above being teammates, no matter how hard she tried.

'Goddammit…'

Honestly, Sakura always hoped one day that the Uchiha and Naruto would suddenly appear in this dimension to take her home. It's been three years and nothing. Not even a hint of their chakra. Sasuke has the ability to hop through dimensions, so she can only come to four conclusions.

One, they didn't survive the war. Two, Sasuke refuses to try. Naruto wouldn't have let her stay here this long, and he'd refuse to stop pushing until there were results. Three, they are going through different portals, but there's too many between them and the search continues. And finally, the fourth one. They have no clue where she went and didn't consider another dimension as a possibility. If that's what this really is.

"Rgghhh!" Scratching her head, the pinkette just wants to scream. It's all so frustrating. For all she knows, Sasuke put her in a permanent genjutsu that never ended after his hand went through her chest.

'No. This can't be an illusion. Gotham is too strange, even for Sasuke's creation. Not to mention I'd be able to detect it. I'm just being paranoid. Shit, this place is getting under my skin.'

Biting her lip, Sakura knows she needs to forget about the past. Sasuke. Naruto. Kakashi-sensei. Team 7. Tsunade-sama… None of that'll do any good here, and the last thing she needs is to find herself in that dark place again. This is the life she has, and there's no point in waiting for something that might never happen.

"Hn. So, this is all that's left of a great kunoichi of Konoha? A gem among a pile of trash… Four walls, three meals, and a mixed can of nuts. Hah! Hashirama's granddaughter would be so proud to see her disciple now… Living as an outlaw in a wasteland without doing anything wrong. How pathetic."

That man's words ring in her ears as if he's right there speaking them again. She doesn't want to hear it. He has no right, especially as part of the problem, to say those kinds of things.

Shaking it off, Sakura pushes herself off the floor. No… Nothing he says matters. The pinkette can handle anything life throws her way and has proven it time and time again.

Joker says everything's a game. Maybe he's right. Even if it is, that doesn't mean she can't have fun along the way. There's no reason to hold back from doing what she wants on the off chance something might happen. Sasuke and Naruto aren't coming, and no one's going to save her. The pinkette might not have complete control over the situation but can still make her own decisions with what's on the table.

If that means falling into something dangerous, so be it. The only thing left to lose is her life, and that means very little now. The most excitement she's had since coming to Arkham is meeting Bozo. Jumping down the rabbit hole and seeing what happens might be the only thing she's done for herself in years.

'I don't care anymore… You want to dance clown? Let's dance. Just so you know, I'll come out on top.'

All these years, she's saved everything for Sasuke. Heart, body, mind, soul... and her future. For what? Some silly hope that her love and dedication would finally reach him? That the Uchiha might see all the pinkette has to offer and realize he has feelings for her?

During their time in the academy and as genin, there were so many small instances that she completely over-exaggerated in her own head. Barely a glance. Maybe a shrug. Defending her during the second stage of the chunin exams against Orochimaru's pawns. A simple compliment once in a blue moon which had little to do with her as a potential interest. In her teenage mind, each piece was proof of Sasuke's secret love that he's just not ready to share from his ongoing inner turmoil. Revenge against Itachi was in the way of making that a reality. She genuinely believed once Sasuke achieved that, he'd return to the village and everything would change.

'I was such a fool…'

Hindsight and a heavy dose of reality allowed Sakura to finally put the pieces together during incarceration. The Uchiha had never shown an inkling of having any romantic notions towards her. Not coming from greatness and having any trauma that 'compares' to his own, it was easy for him to dismiss her. Looking back, it was partially understandable. In those days, she really didn't have a clue about how he felt, no matter how many times she tried to comprehend his pain.

However, that disregard never changed. Even after she helped him and Naruto seal Kaguya, he threw all that dedication in her face. No… Through her chest.

Joker has shown more interest in her within the last few weeks than Sasuke had over an entire decade. It's time to move on. Out with the old and in with the new. No matter where this path takes her, she'll see it through to the end.

'Well, that's that.'

A small smile graces her lips as she heads down the hall, feeling a bit lighter. The pinkette might not be a great kunoichi of Konoha at the moment, but that doesn't mean she can't be something here. In Gotham, no one cares about clans, villages, or inherited jutsu. None of that shit matters. All that does is what she's capable of and these little fists pack one hell of a punch. The clown can see that… He knows there's far more to her than meets the eye.

Walking past a row of doors, Sakura suddenly stops from the sound of familiar mumbling coming from one of the rooms.

'I know that nonsensical bullshit from anywhere.'

Moving closer to the small window, it easy to peek through at this height. Taking on the form of a tall man has its benefits compared to her normal stature. The pinkette would've had to get on her tippy toes just to look.

Glancing around the dim room, Sakura's brow furrows at what she sees. A desk with papers and office supplies skewed all over the surface, rows of files lining the wall, and a few charts pinned in different spots. The light isn't nearly as bright as Jeremiah usually likes for his patients, but this is definitely one place he occupies. Only it's usually not for sessions. Despite that, Victor Zsasz is strapped down to a gurney, bopping his head around to no audible music playing.

'What the fuck is this? Why is he in here? And what was Jeremiah thinking by giving him back those sunglasses?'

Allowing curiosity to get the best of her, she pulls out a keycard and smacks it against the control panel. This looney toon has mentioned quite a few times wanting to kill her for some stupid 'zombie' reason. The man has a penchant for slitting the throats of young women and those with an apparently lifeless expression in their eyes. Then again, he's more than willing to murder anyone, even for the money he claims that turns people into robots.

Yanking open the door, Sakura strolls in and quickly notes how the noise doesn't elicit a single response for Victor. Narrowing her gaze on him, he just keeps staring up towards the ceiling, moving his head to a beat no one else is privy to.

"Ah, Dr. Arkham… Thought ya were busy with—" The moment he glances over the side of the gurney, the playful tone dies off. The baldy almost seems taken aback, like the last thing he expected is to see a guard. And that's probably true.

Very little escapes the pinkette's notice under this roof. In confinement, there's seldom to do aside from following people's auras. Even when she's reading, her attention gets divided between drinking in the words and checking up on the happenings around the building. Recently, Victor has been spending a curious amount of time in Jeremiah's various rooms. Sometimes, even unsupervised. No one in their right mind would leave this maniac to his own devices, gurney or not.

"Ya-Ya-Ya Yosef. Interesting to see ya here, buddy." Mixed in the sing-song voice is a copious amount of condescendence and it doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together. Victor doesn't like the man that Sakura's impersonating. Probably strikes fear into him just for fun. "I'm surprised you'd come into the lion's den, especially without yer little friends." Chuckling darkly, he shifts against the gurney to get more comfortable. It's strange how some of these people act right at home in chains and restraints, like they truly don't have a care in the world.

'This asshole reminds me of the clown in a way.'

"What? Cat gotcha tongue? Or did someone finally cut it out? Kehkehkeh!" His cackle grates on Sakura's nerves, the same way everything else about him does. Being around him causes her skin to crawl, like little bugs burrowing beneath the surface that feel the urge to excavate everything in reach. It disgusts her, and so does this man.

'Let's see if he'll keep making racket after this?'

A poof of smoke surrounds the Yosef's form as the pinkette emerges with an arrogant smirk on her face. Victor freezes in mid-laugh at the sight, letting the sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose to expose the wide eyes behind them.

A moment passes where neither says a word, just staring at each other. If Sakura wanted him to shut up, she certainly achieved that because he's absolutely speechless. Hardened blue eyes stare in confusion at the small woman before flickering around the room as if to make sure everything's still the way he remembers it from only minutes ago.

"What's wrong, skinhead? Something, ah, shock-ing?" Sakura giggles at herself for mocking Joker's speech pattern, even if he's not here to get angry about it.

Tearing his gaze back towards the pinkette, Victor purses his lips while eyeing her suspiciously. The top of his jumpsuit is zipped down just enough to see the jagged scars from his tally count. Each vicious mark represents a victim whose life he callously snuffed out.

A young woman on her way home from work was in the wrong place, at the wrong time… A man that pissed Zsasz's employer off in some way that marked him for death... Random people that just had a certain look in their eyes that Victor despises… The majority had their throats slashed, then he positions their corpses in a casual pose as if they were still alive. That alone is more than enough reason for Sakura to smash his brains out. Maybe even fold the gurney up into a small heap, then crush it while he's still strapped in. If there's anyone who deserves to die in this asylum, it's Victor Zsasz.

Green eyes narrow on the man, trying to resist the urge to act out. No. Killing a person without provocation while they're completely restrained will make her no better than them. At least with Moxley and Sid, she let them make the first move. Turning it into a case of self-defense helps keep the guilt at bay.

Staring at Victor, a thought flutters to the forefront of her mind. Does it make her a hypocrite to be judge, jury, and occasional executioner to those kinds of men, while carrying on with Joker? One of the most despised people in all of Gotham who's killed countless people and openly enjoys the mayhem he causes?

'Maybe… but at least he has a sort of code. Bozo doesn't rape or go out of his way to kill those who don't have a fighting chance. Children and the disabled are off the menu. They don't get his jokes or punchlines, and there's no fun in it. That's what he said before…'

Joker can definitely be a monster, but there are some lines even he won't cross. It's not because he can't, but chooses not to. There are quite a few inmates that don't hold those same sentiments. The clown says those kinds of acts are beneath him, something that savages with no class do. Even if he's an arrogant bastard with an ego the size of Wayne Tower, he still holds himself and his crimes to a certain standard.

'Why the hell am I looking for positives in that assclown? It's like comparing garbage and seeing which piece of trash doesn't smell as bad…'

"So, the clown's pink-haired witch is a master of disguises! Not just a nuclear bomb wrapped up in a pretty little package? Nice, nice. I bet Joker's just living for it!" Victor laughs merrily once the shock wears off. His smile and eyes are too wide, showing the manic side that frightens even the guards. Sakura finds it almost amusing that he has the balls to talk to her this way, knowing she more than capable of shattering bulletproof glass. After all, his cell is right next to Joker's. There's no way he didn't see what happened.

"I'm not the clown's anything, dumbass." In a blink of the eye, she moves too fast for him to react and snatches the sunglasses off his face.

The nasty smirk playing on his mouth suddenly drops at the realization of what happened as he eyes the dark pair being spun around between her fingers. All he saw was the pinkette standing there, then his glasses appearing in her hand. Sputtering stupidly, the baldy looks around the room, as if hoping Jeremiah will come through the door any second.

"Give. Them. Back. Bitch!" He growls menacingly, struggling against the gurney's straps to lunge at her. It's all futile, but the morons in this building never know when to quit. Even if he managed to get out, what then? That'll only result in the asylum's head finding a pile of mush on the floor. "Fuck! Fuck! Gimme my glasses! I swear—"

"You swear what, asshole? That you'll kill me?" Sakura says mockingly, grasping the sunglasses in her hand. She lets her fingers visibly pulse around the object, just to let him know they can be broken at any moment. "Heard that one too many times. Didn't turn out too well for any of them. Nope…"

"Wait. Wait! We can handle this like reasonable adults. Can't we?" Gritting the words out behind clenched teeth, Victor's eyes don't leave the pair for a second, refusing to even blink. He stares at them with a frenzied kind of hunger that makes something in the pinkette's stomach turn. She's only seen that look in fanatics, ones willing to kill for their 'cause'. There's no doubt in her mind that this man would murder another human being just to get his sunglasses back. People under this roof have done it for less.

"Neither of us are reasonable adults. That's why were here, no?" Arching a brow, she lowers her head to meet his gaze, but it's only focused on one thing. "For fuck's sake!" In a flash, the pair are quickly back in place, resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose.

The moment he realizes they're on, his entire demeanor completely flips. Letting out a heavy breath, Victor chuckles lowly as he settles back against the gurney. Part of her wants to ask what's so damn important about those sunglasses, but she really doesn't care. Who knows? They could be a memento from one of his first victims or a gift from his boss.

"So, skinhead… Do you still have some diabolical plan on murdering me?" Crossing her arms, Sakura tilts her head to the side to try to draw his attention back to their ridiculous half-conversation.

A large sneer that crinkles his nose causes the pinkette to grimace at how disgusting he is. "More than likely. Even if yer one of the clown's puppets, I'm not worried about him. It's all in the name of purifying humanity. Gotta be honest though… You're no longer a top priority!"

'I'm going to rip his guts out if he keeps bringing that assclown up… Is he saying I'm not a top priority because he knows I'll crush him into dust or there's someone else his focus is on?'

"And why is that?" Sakura doesn't know why she's even humoring this in the first place. Maybe it's just to kill some time until the doctor's done with the clown… She wants to wait a few hours before heading up to solitary to talk to him. That'll give him plenty of time to cool down and think things through beforehand. He's always a hot mess after getting electroconvulsive therapy. Having his brain shocked to hell doesn't leave much room for good banter.

"Ya see, I found someone truly lifeless. A genuine, grade-A zombie bitch! A soulless being with no direction or meaning. A woman that fits my type who deserves salvation in its rawest form!" Victor's eyes fly open as he leans towards the edge of the gurney, full of excitement at the prospect of his new target.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she's completely disturbed by this man's erratic behavior. It's nothing she hasn't seen before but is still unsettling. Anyone that knows Zsasz's history or reads the paper knows his 'ideal type' for victims. There's only one person in this asylum that comes to mind.

"Harleen…"

Each day and night seems longer than the last, a never-ending cycle of chaos and malicious intent. All in the course of a few weeks so much has changed, yet hasn't at the same time. Just the last sixteen hours have put a considerable amount of weight on the doctor's weary shoulders, as if there already wasn't enough to begin with.

Patients, sessions, disagreements, prescriptions, files, constant paperwork, bills, Ash's incessant complaining… It's all starting to get to her. The break out is only the icing of an already multi-layered cake.

"Dammit…" Harleen blows a messy strand of blonde hair out of the way as she heads down the hall. This is the first time since coming into work in the middle of the night that she's had the time to go to her office to sit down and take time for herself.

Things were seemingly starting to quiet down around the asylum until now. Then again, that's usually when catastrophes appear to occur. The moment everything looks to be under control or getting better, suddenly shit hits the fan.

Jeremiah is acting strangely, along with Alyce. That might be due to the recent circumstances, though. Two guards were killed in Sakura's little rampage at the beginning of the week, on top of giving patients the idea that the bulletproof glass is breakable. Three had to go to the medical wing with broken bones from attempting to do the same. Even if they somehow managed to pull it off, then what? There's no way of getting out of the building, especially dress in those orange jumpsuits. That's the whole point in the color choice. It helps them stick out in case anyone is somewhere they shouldn't be.

Just thinking about it all is bringing on another headache. What is this, the fifth one today? No one ever said this job was easy, but…

'Doesn't matter, Harleen. Just keep your head up and do your job. We'll just do the best we can with what we have.'

It always feels like something is missing in life and that thought has been edging its way further to the forefront. The world seems so gray, yet she desperately desires a splash of color. Already, her path has strayed from the one her sister found, but maybe that's okay.

This isn't a one-size-fits-all ordeal. The problem is finding what is capable of breathing life back into her. Coming to Arkham had become a dream come true in her curious mind's thirst to observe the criminally insane. To see what makes them tick or how they view the world. Spending the last year listening and observing them has made quite a few things clear. Most of them don't genuinely care what others think, nor do they accept any restriction. The sky's the limit to those who couldn't care less how society feels.

"Do what you want, Harley. Cut the strings tying you down to the puppeteer's hands. I saw it in your eyes during our first session. Something inside you wants to break out... To fight for what you truly want. Each small move you make only tangles those strings around you tighter and tighter, knotting up. Take a knife and cut yourself free already."

'No. Don't think about that. Don't! He's just trying to mess with your head, knowing you're under a lot of pressure.'

Too many nights have been spent tossing and turning, replaying Mr. J's words. His specialty is psychological torture and manipulation. Pushing people to do things they normally wouldn't. Taking any advice from a man like that is only asking for trouble of the worst kind.

The hall is silent aside from the heels tapping against the smooth surface of the floor. They cause her feet to ache constantly. Why does she even wear them to begin with? To appear more professional? Why does a woman have to force herself discomfort to meet a certain criteria to be taken seriously?

'The moment I sit down, these are coming right off.'

Grabbing the handle of her door, Harleen lowers her head, sucking in a deep breath. She's exhausted, emotionally, and physically… In a strange way, knowing Mr. J wasn't part of the breakout brought her immense relief. After vouching for him so many times, that's the last thing either of them needed.

"It's fine, Har." Whispering to herself softly, the blonde cracks open to the door and walks in. Per usual, the small office needs to be reorganized again. Between the patient's files and health insurance papers, it's an overload that needs constant attention.

"Hmm?" Noticing something on her desk, Harleen freezes on the spot. No one is supposed to enter this room, aside from herself and Jeremiah. With all the private documents floating around for many individuals, any other staff member needs permission.

"What… is… this?" With each step closer toward the desk, her heart pounds faster and harder.

A thin vase sits on top of the desk's surface with a single, long stem red rose. Around the simple glass is a solitary note tied around the neck with string.

Breathing out hard, a lump forms in the doctor's throat. She's almost too afraid to read what it says. Another death threat? Is that the meaning behind the string tied around the neck of the vase? A message from a guard who's too shy to speak up? Maybe a little token for all her hard work?

'Don't be stupid… Working in this place is making me overly paranoid.'

The problem is that doctors have to be innovative to handle what's within these walls. Something that seems simple or easily overlooked can have an ultimately different meaning to a criminal.

Biting her bottom lip, Harleen tries to calm down as she slowly slides her glasses off and grips them in the palm of her trembling hand. If it's a threat, she'll just call security and they can try to figure it out together. There was a breakout last night, so an inmate could've done this.

'They had keycards, too…'

Trying to shake it off the alarming thought, the doctor thrusts the pair of glasses in her coat pocket. Steeling what's left of her resolve and facing it head-on is all that can be done.

Leaning forward, blue eyes slowly scan the note, drinking in each and every word.

Come down and see me some time
~ J

Time ticks by slower than usual. Glancing at the clock again, Sakura decides it's been long enough. Four hours should be good, right?

Pretending to be a guard during the current state of the asylum has probably been the most exercise she's had in a while. Actually, the pinkette's done more since last night than in the previous three years. Being confined to a small cell with meals being 'delivered' doesn't leave wiggle room to do much of anything.

Carrying meal trays, checking on the inmates, helping calm them down until their psychiatrist arrives, poking the ones she doesn't like with nightsticks… It's been a grand time.

'This is right up the clown's alley. No wonder he enjoys impersonating people. It's all about acting the part while laughing at everyone's obliviousness.'

Doing chores around the asylum was unnecessary, but someone might notice if a guard is suddenly missing after coming in. Yosef's shift should be over by the time she's done, so who cares at that point? This also gave her a way to kill time other than staring at the wall.

After the little chat with Victor, Sakura resumed the guard's form and started doing rounds. It's been so long since getting to see much of the asylum, especially without cuffs or chains. The last few hours felt incredibly liberating to move around so freely… She might do this more often.

'I want to see how the clown's doing. We can finally talk in private now and hopefully, he won't go straight for the throat… Doubt it.'

There's a good chance he'll act out anyway, even if she does nothing to antagonize him. Last night that bastard went to strangle the pinkette just from staring at her lips. He's a strange man that enjoys resorting to violence to solve most of his problems. That probably won't ever change.

Scurrying down the hall from the guard station, it doesn't take long to reach the cell he's been assigned to until tomorrow morning. Harleen must really be putting in overtime if he only got a day in solitary for attacking a staff member, even if no one was harmed.

'Just for a goddamn pen…'

If it hadn't been a genjutsu, Joker would've actually used that dinky little thing to murder someone with. How despicably resourceful… and cunning. Given chakra and some training, she shutters to think how he'd turn the shinobi world upside down. Even the strongest can be outplayed with a sharp mind. His orthodox methods would give many a hard time.

'That asshole would end up in everyone's bingo book.'

Shaking her head, Sakura stops right outside one door in J-block… Cell 24. It's not the same hall as hers and is only slightly better. These tiny cages at least have a dim light that can be turned on from the outside. Not that the guards do. Most spend their nights in darkness unless they have doors with uneven edges. Sometimes a little flicker shines through if they're lucky enough.

Slapping the switch on the wall, the pinkette's sure he already knows who's outside his lair. None of the staff, except for possibly Harleen, would bother turning it on.

'Just relax… This isn't a big deal. Breathe and go in…'

Grabbing the keycard, she sucks in a deep breath to settle her nerves while reaching for the control panel. Of all the encounters they've had, it's not clear why this one has her on edge. Maybe it's the conflicting thoughts and feelings that keep surfacing? Or that she's been going down memory lane more often recently?

None of that matters. Only sucking it up and pushing forward. Living in the past has never done her any good. Neither has thoughts of the future, especially when everything's so uncertain. Going with the flow is the best option. Life is just a game at this point, and she might as well enjoy it.

Cracking open the door, Sakura pokes her head in and peeks around the side. For a moment, she almost regrets coming…

Sitting up against the wall is the clown, stony-faced with no hint of amusement. Dark eyes pierce through her the moment she sees them, full of malice and contempt. Surprisingly, he's not in a straightjacket. Must be another one of Harleen's doings. The guards would've never agreed to him being unrestrained in a room where they can't keep a constant eye on him. Even with a slot to look through, opening the door would still be too dangerous for them. It only takes a second to make a move.

'Jesus Christ… Has he been like this the entire time or since I turned the light on?'

"Get rid of that ugly get-up, witch." Joker's voice is no more than a raspy growl from the appointment with Jeremiah. There's no doubt they had an extended session from the looks of it. The doctor probably wanted to get some frustration out, and the clown undoubtedly pushed quite a few of his buttons to boot.

'Always asking for it. Sometimes, literally. He really has no sense of self-preservation.'

Just from a single glace, she can tell he's been through the wringer. The staff must've taken him to the shower room recently. She can always tell when they do. The unruly mop on his head is temperamental, just like him. It's usually a stringy, greasy mess until someone drags his ass to the shower to get cleaned up. Now, his hair looks almost… soft. Dirty-blond curls among a sea of belligerent waves that reach the crook of his neck. Little faded green splotches of his former dye-job are barely visible anymore, allowing the natural hue to take over.

The shadows around his heavy lids are ever-present, melding into the dark pits in his sockets. If not for the sliver of white in his eyes, they'd seem hollowed out. She can only imagine how they'd look in greasepaint… Most of the time, the anger permeating in their depths is the only sign of life in them. Even when he's laughing, it only dims but never leaves. Has this man ever been genuinely happy at a single point in his life? Not in an 'I love watching you suffer' kind of way? Any real joy that doesn't come from some malicious or crude act? Something that isn't related to his sadistic tendencies? There's always a rage just under the surface. It flows through him like blood, spreading to every nook and cranny of his being. Even if it's not visible to the naked eye, it's still there.

"Did ya hear me? Hmm?" The clown cocks his head to the side, eyebrows raised high as an exaggerated frown tugs on his scars. From the way his nails keep digging into the pant leg of his jumpsuit, this form must aggravate him. Despite being deceptive, he doesn't like the favor being returned, whatsoever.

"Fine. Fine." With a poof, Yosef's completely gone with the jumpsuit-clad pinkette standing in his place. With a crooked grin, Sakura holds her arms out wide, trying to hold in a giggle. "There. You happy now?"

For just a moment, Joker seems to relax. Letting out a deep breath, he sinks further into the mattress, sliding down the wall by a hair. Dark eyes trail over her form as if it's been a while since they've last seen each other.

'Why the hell's he looking at me like that? Did seeing me in another body throw him off?'

"Did you miss me?" Sakura bites the inside of her lip to stop the sneer from playing out on her face. It'd be a lie to say she doesn't enjoy teasing him.

The muscle in his cheek jumps at the question, only confirming what she was thinking. Staring at the pinkette intently, he blinks a few times without saying a word. Something feels off, but she can't put her finger on it. Usually, he'd hurdle insults in her direction or throwing a fit by now.

'What's with him?! Did they really fry his brain this time or having a delayed reaction from being exhausted?'

From being in the cell across from him for the last month, it's no secret the guy has problems with insomnia. Throughout the night, either a guard or noisy inmate will wake her up multiple times. Years as a shinobi would make anyone a light sleeper. The smallest noise can mean an enemy's going for a sneak-attack, so it doesn't take much to rouse her. 70% of those occasions, the clown's usually glaring at something—mostly her—or just lying in bed. From his aura, she can tell when he's in the REM stage. It's calmer, has more of a balanced flow compared to the erratic spikes when he's conscious.

Right now, the clown just looks worn out. The bags around those pitch-black rocks are worse than ever, and his face is starting to appear gaunt. Getting a reaction from him is taking longer than normal, too. Usually, the jerk is ready to spit fire at a moment's notice…

Today's session must've been brutal. If the media caught wind of how electroconvulsive therapy was carried out in this facility, it'd be shut down immediately with a good chunk of the staff being taken out in handcuffs.

"Earth to Bozo? You in there?" Padding across the cold floor, she waves a hand to get his attention. The odd behavior is causing her to be slightly worried, even if she knows he can handle a lot for a person in this dimension.

A deep scowl etches into Joker's face when the words finally sink in. There it is… The clown's lips curl up into a snarl as he twists the orange fabric in his fist.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Any bit of calm he had from seeing her true form again flies right out the window, along with his patience. "Ya wanna explain that little, ah, show ya put on for me?"

Stepping closer to the bed, Sakura doesn't avert her gaze from his for even a second. Those dark pools of obsidian always say more than he ever will. Anger, annoyance, a hint of confusion, and something else, all mixed into a strange canvas. Emotions flutter by quickly, like someone hitting the buttons on a remote to search for the right channel. This man tries hard to control even what the 'gateway to the soul' might say about him.

If he wasn't such an asshole, she might say they're mesmerizing.

"Ah…" Sitting down on the edge of the flimsy mattress, the pinkette notes how he grunts and subtly moves his arm away. Does the clown think she'll smash it for real this time? "What is it you always say to me? Oh, yeah… 'I don't have to tell you shit!' Right?"

Lunging forward to grab the front of her jumpsuit, Joker slams her up against the wall he was just leaning against. Baring his teeth with a throaty growl, he leans in close enough that she can feel his hot breath washing over her face.

"Think you're so goddamn funny? Huh?!" Yelling just an inch away from the pinkette, she can feel the rage radiating within him. They've been through this song and dance before, yet something's different. Unlike every other time he's lashed out, there's no murderous intent.

"Not particularly." When the clown's in one of these moods, she knows what to do. Staying calm and nonchalant usually ends in one of two ways. It'll either calm him down or cause everything to blow out of proportion. There's no joy to be found if she doesn't seem too willing to play ball. They both already understand it wouldn't take much to crush him, but he doesn't put much weight into his own life. He's a daredevil, willing to dance with death just for kicks.

Scrunching up his nose at the answer, Joker looks almost annoyed. Perhaps he wanted to take out some of his frustration from the session out on her, even if it might result in a few broken bones. The angry glare shifts to the side, shooting daggers at the dirty wall instead of the pinkette.

"What's with you, today? You're acting… strange." Being grabbed and shoved against the wall isn't anything that hasn't happened before. Dealing with this man will undoubtedly bring some form of violence, but she's already accepted that. Even if she's small in stature compared to him, Sakura can handle it. The murder attempts, name-calling, erratic behaviors… This isn't anything she hasn't experienced before, just on a different level.

The last word seemed to get under the clown's skin as he clenches his jaw, working it around from the pressure building up inside. Dragging his eyes back to the pinkette's face, they gloss over her features, studying them intently. He really is off, and it's not clear why, but the way he's staring causes knots in her stomach.

"Strange?" His voice sounds distant, almost mindlessly repeating the one part that stuck out to him. Focusing on her lips, the clown's hand lets go of the orange fabric to coil around her throat. They rest against the pale skin in a light hold, not nearly tight as usual. The pad of his thumb ghosts over the racing pulse hammering just beneath his touch.

'Wh—What's… he doing?!'

Sakura tells herself it's curiosity that keeps her still, to see what he's trying to do. Despite that, the heat in her cheeks intensifies at an alarming rate. It's the same look from last night, just before he lashed out. Will that happen again? The point of coming here wasn't to knock him out or fight. The genjutsu from earlier was a little test to draw something genuine out of him for once and see how he'd react. They both now know the clown doesn't truly want her dead, and the lack of murderous intent only reinforces that idea.

"Ya know… I really hate you." Venom drips with each word, throwing extra emphasis to get the point across. Dark eyes tear away from the pinkette's lips to stare directly into hers, searching for something. A reaction? To see if it hurt? Hoping to make the 'Queen' cry?

Swallowing hard at the harsh words, Sakura almost feels like he punched her in the gut. If she didn't know any better, hearing that from another person might've stung.

"I hate you, too."

Before another dagger comes out, Joker squeezes hard and leans in, crashing his mouth against hers. Green eyes fly open in surprise at the sudden move, not expecting him to even try this. Strangulation seemed to be on the agenda. The grasp is firm, but she can still breathe, realizing he's just angry and holding her in place.

Teeth bite down on her lower lip with a guttural growl to get a reaction from the stunned woman, pushing her into action. The clown isn't one who's willing to accept refusal, especially after deciding to make a move.

Throwing caution to the wind, she kisses him back, allowing herself to get lost in the moment. They did this last night, even though it resulted in him tossing her to the side. He's the one to initiate it and can only blame himself this time around.

Closing her eyes, Sakura's in disbelief this is happening. Large hands move to latch onto her hips, pinning the pinkette against the wall with his body. The heat coming from him is almost too much, causing the orange jumpsuit to feel stifling even in the frigid room.

Deepening the kiss, Joker squeezes down on the small bones in his hold. The moment she gasps, his tongue slips between her lips, pushing forward to explore every inch of uncharted territory.

'I should bite it off for him doing that… What a bastard.'

Instead of getting upset, the pinkette lets the new sensations wash over her. The feel of jagged his scars against her skin. His scent enveloping everything around them, invading her senses. This is different from last night… There's a hunger in him he's refusing to hold back. Was this what the clown wanted to do in the hallway that caused him so much anger? Pent up frustration that needs to come out?

No one's ever kissed her this way before… It's nothing she dreamt of growing up. Fantasies of a man being gentle and sweet, taking his time to express how much this means to him used to play in her mind.

Joker is not the kind of man who can fulfill that. He's like a starved wolf, attacking the pinkette's mouth with little care if his teeth tear through the sinewy tissue of her lips. Pressing her against the wall as if meaning to meld their bodies together. With the fire radiating beneath his skin, she might melt enough to make that a reality.

Breaking away from the kiss, the clown's hands shoot up to fumble with the zipper of his jumpsuit, tugging hard to pull it down. Green eyes widen as he hastily yanks the fabric over his shoulders, letting it pool around his waist.

Seeing his chest completely exposed this close causes the blood to rush to her head, making Sakura suddenly lightheaded. Physical attraction is a weak spot, one she's tried avoiding if possible. Naruto's Oiroke Gyaku Hāremu no Justu, among others, only confirmed it to herself and those standing in proximity.

'Oh, no… Don't get a nosebleed. Don't get a nosebleed! This is too much!'

Being a medic forced the pinkette to see quite a few things over the years, but the woman has a limit. A certain mindset and determination come with healing that's utterly useless in this situation…

"Heh. Like whatcha see, witch?" Even without looking, she already knows there's a cocky smirk on his face just by the arrogant tone. Her throat runs dry as she drinks everything in. Jagged, rough scars litter his tan skin, a testament to the violent and careless life he's lived. Each one tells a story of their own from a time he barely evaded Death's scythe by a hair. She's seen worse on patients, but usually not nearly this many, even by shinobi standards. The clown's lean muscles flex in different spots subconsciously, and it dawns on her that he's waiting for a verbal reaction.

'Interesting… Despite the arrogance, I think J's on edge for some reason. Is he wondering if I'm disgusted or turned on?'

Trying to steady her breathing, Sakura glances up from under her lashes to look at him. From his expression, the clown's on that fine line between losing his shit and leaping at her. The long scar on his right shifts with the subtle movement from him chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches her face with rapt attention.

"Actually, I do." The words come out huskier than she intended, causing internal screaming inside her head. The last person who needs their ego inflated any larger is Joker, but she still gave it to him.

"Good…" Wasting no time, he rushes back in to continue where they left off. Without the fabric covering his chest, it feels hotter than before, almost like the material was a seal to keep the fire at bay. His intensity is overwhelming, causing the pinkette's chest to stutter from trying to force the oxygen he's stealing back into her lungs.

A deep groan reverberates from his throat, going straight through her. This has never happened before and she's completely at a loss. How far does he plan on taking this? Should she stop it? Is this wrong? Or right? The pinkette's body is screaming for more after being touch starved for so long, but her mind isn't on a different plane. It's floating through a fog, getting high from the man that's trying to eat her alive. All this time, she's deprived herself of basic needs that normal adults regularly indulge in without a second thought. Shinobi duties are long gone and so is everything else. What will it hurt to get carried away for once?

'My heart…'

Fingers start grasping at the zipper of her jumpsuit, giving it a firm tug. Just before it reaches her breasts, a trembling hand grabs onto his wrist, stopping him from going any further.

Breathing hard, Sakura holds on tight, trying to steel her resolve. No… She can't do this right now. It's too soon. Last night, Joker tried to strangle her… Even if there are some strange feelings between them, carelessly handing over something she guarded all these years isn't a good idea. That's a piece of her that should go to a person who deserves it. One that won't take all the dedication and love she has to offer for granted.

What's going to stop Joker from using this as a weapon against her? Why does he even want to do this? Just to get his rocks off? Release some tension or pent-up sexual frustration? He can just go to Harleen if that's the case. She'll probably be willing to help him out, just like with everything else.

"What gives?" The clown's brow furrows with a grimace, full of confusion and offense. Already, she knows he's going to take this personally.

"I…" His heated, angry eyes cause the pinkette to glance away, hoping it'll make this easier. She technically doesn't have to explain anything, especially to him. That's what he always says the moment she digs too deep. Honestly, they barely even know each other. "I'm not ready for all that." Her voice is soft and hesitant, not full of the usual confidence she exudes.

Joker stares at Sakura for a moment, his cold eyes flickering over her face. Waiting for some kind of response from him now has her on edge. Everything twists and turns on the inside, making her feel anxious. Will this result in a fight? Or is he just going to insult her and say 'piss off'? There's always the possibility that he'll just wait for Harleen to visit to use her instead.

"Hah!" The clown barks out a laugh, running a hand through his hair agitatedly. "Ya want me to believe that? Hmm? Don't have the tits to just say what's really going on?" There isn't a single bit of humor in it, even as he carries on. Arching a brow, she doesn't know what that's supposed to mean.

'To say what's really going on?'

Leaning back, Joker drops his down to look into her face with a sneer. Seeing the confused expression, he snorts through his nose in disbelief. "Ya don't mind showin' it all off for the guards or those shitty boy-toys on the daily. How 'bout that Snow Cone bastard? Is getting to me where ya draw the line? Now ya wanna act like a prude suddenly? A little virgin angel too afraid of getting her wings dirty—" A hand cracks across his face, almost knocking the clown off balance.

Sakura's entire body trembles in rage, trying with every ounce of patience to hold herself back from pummeling him to death. Insinuating she's a slut, showing all the good off to everyone and their father. Bringing up Sasuke, despite the moron never getting the name right… Even if she had sex with anyone else before, that doesn't mean he automatically has a right to have a go.

'I want to kill him. This time I might really do it. Fuck the guilt!'

Recovering from the blow, Joker looks shocked as he touches the pulsing red handprint on his face. What the hell was he expecting? If she said a quarter of that to him, those long fingers would be wrapped around her throat in a split-second.

"You're such an asshole! Stop trying to make me out into something I'm not because of that stupid little jealousy bug that crawled up your ass! I've been here since I was seventeen. SEVENTEEN!" Right now, she'd love nothing more to rip the curly hair right out of his head. The pinkette doesn't know why she's even defending herself but still feels the need to, for some ungodly reason. Maybe it's her pride or embarrassment… Either way, she can't hold it in. "I'm not giving anything to anyone and never have! How dare you throw the shower room in my face! How many guards have seen you naked? Hmm? Going by your logic, I guess you've been doing a lot of fucking over the years!"

"Ha… Hah… HAHAHA!" His manic laughter abruptly stops the tirade, taking Sakura off guard. A hand clutches the clown's chest as he leans forward from the hysterics getting the best of him. For a moment, the pinkette debates if punching him through the wall will be worth all the bitching from the staff.

Humiliation ebbs its way into her mind, overriding the sudden urge to commit murder. He's cackling like a madman… at her expense.

'I should've put a lot more force into that swing…'

For the first time in years, Sakura feels like that seventeen-year-old kunoichi who threw punches at her old teammates for making embarrassing remarks towards her. When Naruto would mention the pinkette's 'love' for Sasuke or hint at having a crush her. All those times Sai called her ugly and Kakashi-sensei intervened to avoid an all-out war in the group. It's been a while since she hoped the floor would crack open and swallow her whole.

"What's so fucking funny, asshole?!" Whatever the clown's finding so amusing is completely lost on her. If anything, she thought he'd freak out over being smacked.

Losing her patience and wanting to return to the dark cell at the other end of the block, Sakura brushes past him in a rush. This didn't turn out anything as she imagined on the way here. Too much was said and done. Crawling under the little sheet in her cubby and pretending none of this happened is the best idea for now. At least until she comes up with a way to remedy the situation.

"At-ta-ta-ta! Where ya think you're goin'?" Fingers latch onto the back of her jumpsuit, trying to pull the pinkette back before getting off the bed. "Ya gonna just smack me around, then run? That's not very nice, is i-t?"

"Let go or I'll break every bone in your body…" She tried to put every ounce of poison in her voice, warning him how close she is to snapping.

"Lighten up, Sakura. I think we can call it even for that shit ya pulled earlier. I got pissed off and now, so are you. Heh! We both squeezed a little bit of info outta each other. Glad to know you're not throwing it all over the place!" Hearing the obnoxious giggle assaulting her ears, it feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice water down her back.

'That jerkoff said all that to get a reaction from me… To find out more, just like I did to him this morning. J wanted to see what he's dealing with. Most importantly, his ego demanded to know the rejection wasn't about him. That way all the blame can fall on my shoulders… I can't fucking stand him!'

"Besides, you're a medic. Though ya were 'spose to make me feel better, not break my damn bones." Yanking on the fabric in his fist, the pinkette lets herself fall back against the hard chest right behind her. It's unbearable to think she gave so much away from indignation.

'Oh, no… I told him way too much. I might have to get rid of him now. He's never going to let me live this down. This assclown knows my real age, current sexual experience, and far more than I care to think about at the moment. How could I be so goddamn stupid?! I let myself get carried away from being too flustered… This is all his fault for showing so much!'

"C'mon! Don't make that face, little witch. It's unbecoming for a Queen to look like that. Hahah!" Glaring at the wall is the best option. She has no intention of seeing that arrogant expression on his face.

"Fuck off. I hate you…" It might be immature, but Sakura couldn't care less.

"Oh, really? Is that how ya feel?" Smacking his lips, Joker gives a stray pink lock a harsh tug. He's irritated by what she said, and that brings her a sliver of joy. Getting on his nerves will help her feel somewhat better. "I guess we'll just have to remedy that. Hmm?"

Looking up suspiciously, the clown has a nasty sneer on his face. Whatever he has in mind can't be anything good.

'Dammit…'