A/N: Beta'd by Glow593!
"Are you sure you're okay to go home, miss?" The nurse runs after the pinkette that's trying to get out of the hospital as quickly as humanly possible. "The doctor thinks that you should stay for a few more days. If this is about the window, Mr. Wayne has already arranged for it to be taken care of... Things like that happen around here sometimes..."
'Bullshit...'
Tasha shakes her head, trying to block the woman's voice out. No. She won't stay another day in this hospital. Not after what happened last night. Maybe, it'll be best if she returns to Japan. If she explains the situation to Bruce, he'll understand. Right? Will he even believe her?
'I can't even believe it myself... How am I supposed to make other people? Who would believe that I witnessed the Joker fleeing from a crime scene and shooting a bus driver? Well, that wasn't the unbelievable part. It was the fact that he came into my room last night, didn't kill me AND escaped through the window in a helicopter...'
Ignoring the warnings of the nurse trying to chase her down, Tasha keeps walking with a grim expression etched into her young face.
'Christ, my life sucks. I'm going home and packing my stuff. Time to get out of this hellhole.'
"I'm leaving. I don't care what the doctor says. I'm not staying here another night just because he's interested in what's wrong with my head."
"Miss, that's not why-"
Spinning on her heel around towards the nurse, the older woman takes a few steps back away from the angry pinkette. "Enough. I'm leaving. There's already a cab waiting outside for me. I don't want to waste his time, so please stop wasting mine." With that, Tasha grabs her bag and walks out of the front doors of the hospital.
Just as she said, there's a cab waiting right out front. Opening the door and plopping down in the backseat, the pinkette gives the driver the address. She lets out an exasperated breath, looking out of the window as they take off.
'Yeah... When I get home, I'll pack my stuff. I need to leave Gotham as soon as possible...'
Sighing, she tries to relax, watching the buildings fly by with each passing block. This whole situation is already out of control and the more she thinks about it, the angrier she becomes. Who does that clown freak think he is, harassing and threatening her like this?
'The Joker, that's who...'
Why can't the Batman just kill that psychotic man already? Thinking about the conversation with Ino yesterday, she comes to the conclusion that there isn't a good reason to keep these criminals alive. All they live for is causing violence and pain wherever they go. Spreading their stink all over the city...
Groaning, she runs a hand through her pink hair, feeling at a loss and completely frustrated. Maybe she should get a gun... No. There's no need. Hopefully, by tomorrow, arrangements can be made to get to the airport, then she'll be on a plane back to Japan. It's safer there.
"You okay, young lady?" The old man glances into the rear-view mirror, while they sit at a red light. No, she's not okay, but there's no one to talk about this issue to. Not without someone getting hurt.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired and want to get home." He nods, promising they will be there in just a few minutes. Getting home is her stead-fast goal and they can't arrive fast enough. The pinkette's at a loss and almost doesn't know where to begin or how this might play out. This monster lurking in the shadows is unpredictable and she doesn't know much about him, aside from what's reported in the news. How can she escape something no one understands or can anticipate? The Bat can't even deal with this guy, so what hope does she have? It's like trying to run from a hurricane on foot that's right on her heels.
'I'm so screwed…'
Just as he said, they soon pull up to the curb in front of the large building. Tasha fishes some cash out of her purse, telling the driver to keep the change. He smiles and thanks her, seemingly happy about the nice tip. People in this city are always kinder when the prospect of money's involved, especially the possibility of receiving more. That's something no one can deny.
Quickly, he gets out of the car and opens the door for her. The pinkette snatches her bag and slides out of the taxi, just wanting to get in and gather up her belongings. There's no time to dawdle and the longer it takes, the faster someone might find out what she's planning.
"Take care, Miss" The driver calls out as he slams the back door, hopping into the front seat at lightning speed. Funny how fast someone can move when there's money in their pocket.
'Hn. He didn't do that when I came out of the hospital... Figures. Everyone's always all about money.'
The driver takes off fast with the tires screeching in his haste. The pinkette stares blankly at the burn marks on the road and the smoke from burnt rubber fluttering in the air.
'Probably thinks I made a mistake and is worried I'll ask for change back...'
Shaking her head, Tasha strides through the front of the large building, debating if she should jump in the shower first, or just start packing. Going to the elevator, she steps in, grateful that no one's around at the moment. With everything going on, silence and solitude feel like a luxury.
As the elevator takes off, the muscles in her shoulders finally start to relax. Maybe what happened last night was just a nightmare brought on by paranoia? Yes, that might be it. That's more logical than any other scenario.
'Probably all those damn drugs that doctor gave me... But what about the window? It was still shattered in the morning. A stray bullet from some goons having a street fight? Maybe I heard it in my sleep and had that weird dream...'
That must be it. Just a terrible nightmare brought on by her own delusions. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as she leans up against the elevator wall. Going through everything that's happened in the last 24 hours, it does seem absurd. A hollow laugh echoes off the walls, realizing how foolish she can be.
'Christ... As if something that ridiculous would happen.'
She steps out as soon as the elevator doors open up. Sometimes, the pinkette's too much, even for herself. Fishing around in her purse and pulling out a set of keys, the pinkette saunters down the hall, shaking her head at her wild imagination.
Reaching the door, Tasha decides that a shower and a little time to mull things over might be the best course of action. After all, there's no need to be hasty... There are many things to consider to pack up to leave so suddenly. The apartment, employment, her belongings. It's not like she can just walk out the door and disappear.
Right?
Putting the keys into the lock, she quickly opens the door and drops her bag on the small table off to the side. Home sweet home... Stretching her arms out over her head, the pinkette's starting to feel light as a feather now. There's nothing to worry about and plenty of time to enjoy the city and continue her work at Wayne Enterprises.
"Oh, yeah..." Remembering what Ino said yesterday, Tasha slides her hand down into her pocket. She pulls out the folded piece of paper that the blonde had slipped her in the hospital room. "Hyeejin Choi, huh?" A smile spreads across her face looking at the name and number. She should at least thank him for helping out and staying at the hospital for hours just to make sure she was okay.
'That's very kind of him... Not something you'd expect from people these days. I'll call him later to find some way to thank him for doing that for me.'
According to Ino, he's devastatingly beautiful. To be honest, she can't recall anything about him, aside from his voice. The pain in her head was throbbing so badly she could barely see. It doesn't matter what he looks like anyway. The way someone acts or behaves is far more important than their appearance.
'Tch, how embarrassing...'
Putting the note down next to her purse, the pinkette glances around the apartment. It would be a shame to leave after just getting here... Bruce did set her up with a good place. It would be a waste to throw away his generosity like that.
Looking around the room with a small smile, it quickly fades when she notices something on the coffee table in front of the couch. That… and the window's open. She hasn't even touched it since moving in recently. It's late-Autumn and not the season to have any windows open at all.
Tasha's body starts shaking, slowly stepping closer to the table. No one should've been in here, except for her. The landlord always gives a 24-hour notice if someone has to come in for any reason. They also would have left a note on the door. Sitting down on the couch, she gingerly reaches out and picks up the small branch with pink flowers.
'These are… cherry blossoms? They're fake. Well, it's not like they would grow around here... It's not even that time of year.'
Her hands tremble as she looks down at the flowers. What is this supposed to mean? Who did this?
There's a note on the table. A sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach tells her what she's been dreading this entire time. Perhaps… last night wasn't a dream.
Putting the branch down beside her thigh on the cushion, Tasha snatches the paper up. There's writing on it that causes her brows furrow, before even reading a single word of it. It's all in a strange, messy scrawl.
Sakura,
Don't get cheeky and try to run. I'll find you. Anyone gets involved, they WILL regret it. Trust me, I'm a man of my word... I left little presents at every exit of the city, even the airport. Be smart, doll. I'll be seeing ya later!
With love, Mr. J.
Tasha stares at the letter in disbelief, a cold chill making every hair stand on end. It wasn't a dream. It all happened and the nightmare will continue. Not only that, but he's making it impossible for her to leave the city or reach out for help.
Looking at the branch, she bolts to her feet and throws it against the wall. An angry scream shatters the silence in the small room. There's nothing else to do some of these overwhelming emotions out.
"Fuck!"
A bang on the wall from next door causes her to jump. The man on the other side starts yelling about the noise, dragging the pinkette back to reality. Hearing the curses and complaints bites at her nerves. Of all times, does he have to do this now? When everything's closing in and trying to swallow her up? The urge to punch the wall to shut the neighbor up is so tempting. At least it will get some anger and frustration out. No one will blame her but like always… she doesn't. Always hesitating to act and worrying about confrontation... Not wanting to make waves in the still body of water that is her life.
'I'm… pathetic...'
Flopping back down onto the couch, she feels defeated. Tasha lets her head lull back against the cushioned couch, dazed and confused. What will she do now? What can she even do now?
'Wait a minute...'
Quickly glancing back at the letter and glossing over the erratically written words, she notices the name it's addressed to.
Sakura...
That's the Japanese word for cherry blossoms. Is this some kind of sick joke?! Her name is Tasha. Ta-sh-a
'Maybe he has me confused with someone else? Maybe this is all some huge misunderstanding... No, I've never seen anyone who looks like me. There's no mistake. He wants to drive me insane.'
A laugh spills the pinkette's lips as she pulls her knees up to her chest, leaning back into the couch. What is he trying to do? If he's going to kill her, can't he just get it over with already?
"P-Please! I told you what you wanted to know! Let me go, please! I have a family!" The doctor screams from the chair he's bound to. Trying to holler or call for help is useless. The warehouse is in The Narrows, far away from anyone who might be willing to help.
The Joker paces back and forth, looking through the files the doctor so generously gave him. There are two of them. One for Sakura Haruno, the other for Tasha Romov.
"Ahhahhahahaha!" The manic cackle echoes throughout the warehouse, startling the henchmen standing around and waiting for their next orders. "So, that's how it is! Now it all makes sense!" The side of his mouth quirks up, tugging at the scars. The muscles in his face jump as he carefully processes everything.
'So... She didn't die or run away.'
Walking towards the metal trash can on the floor in the center of the room, the clown tosses the papers in without hesitation. Dark eyes look on fondly as the bright flames engulf the files, tearing through the truth and lies, burning everything to ash.
The doctor cries out, seeing the precious files he had just gotten his hands on recently turn into nothingness. One file had been started just the day before based on the patient who'd been brought in, the other given to him by Bruce Wayne.
"W-What are you doing?! I needed those for my research!" The older man instantly regrets saying anything when the Joker silently turns towards him, no longer having a smile on his face.
"Oh? And, ah, what kind of research would that be? Hmm?" Stalking over towards the man tied to the chair, the clown reaches into his pocket, pulling out one of the many knives he always keeps on him. The doctor purses his busted lips together tightly, quickly lowering his chin. He's trying his best to ignore the throbbing pain running through his body. A small trickle of blood runs down the side of his face. The spot where he'd been hit in the hospital parking lot, while on his way to his car after finishing up for the day.
"Look. At. Me." The clown snarls out angrily, causing the older man to tremble. When the doctor refuses to look up, Joker grins, tightly gripping the handle of the blade. Without a second's hesitation, he drives it through his hand and into the arm of the chair.
"Arghhhh!" The doctor shrieks, throwing himself back against the chair. His chest pushes forward, gasping and sputtering in agony. How much more is he going to have to endure at the hands of these lunatics? They've already beaten him almost senseless on the way to the warehouse, only to continue their vicious treatment after stringing him up to the seat.
Leaning down to be eye level with the sorry sack of shit in front of him, Joker reaches up, smacking the man's cheek with a gloved hand. "Now why'd ya make me do that?" Twisting the blade and digging it deeper, Joker revels in the screams. They always bring him joy or laughter, usually both.
"W-What do you want from me!" The man sobs pitifully, looking horrified at the blood pouring out from his hand onto the floor.
"Come on, Doc! We're playing a game right now. Stop being such a sourpuss!" With another smack of his gloved hand, the fear in his eyes makes it all the more exciting.
"So... It's just a misunderstanding, huh?" The Joker muses, tracing the jagged marks around his mouth with his gloved fingers. He's muttering to himself, rather than talking to the person hyperventilating in front of him.
"Y-Yes!" The doctor struggles against the ropes that keeping him bound to the chair. Sometimes the clown wonders why they even bother. No one ever gets out anyway. All they're able to accomplish with their futile efforts is pissing him off more than he already is.
"Knock it off, Doc. No one can get out of my knots. You're just making yourself bleed out faster!" Whirling around, he grabs the knife and yanks it out of the man's hand, eliciting another scream.
"Please, I told you everything! There's nothing left I can offer you. You know the truth now. Take your anger out on Bruce Wayne or that woman! I had nothing to do with it. Please, I have a family!" Sucking in harsh breaths through his clenched teeth, the man lets his head fall forward. He doesn't know what angle to use in hopes of making it out of this in one piece. There has to be something the clown wants, right? Everyone wants something or has a price. If the sympathy card doesn't work, there are still a few options left. "What is it? Money? I have plenty of it, just name your price!" The doctor's desperate to get out of there. He just has to. There isn't anyone that he's worried about. No family. Nothing. That doesn't matter, not even a little. He just wants to make it out alive.
The Joker's face twists into an angry grimace at the man's pleas. "Money, money, money! That's all everyone thinks about!" Kicking another chair across the floor, he delights seeing the man's petrified expression. "Ya see Doc. I'm a man with simple tastes... I like things that are cheap. Do ya know what's cheap right now?"
Walking around a crate, he grabs a large tank, dragging it out for the older man to see. Striding across the floor languidly, his dark eyes light up at the wide-eyed expression and startled screams his slow, deliberate actions elicit. This is one of the parts he relishes in that helps tip himself over the edge. Seeing the fear and desperation when someone knows their end is coming.
"Gasoline! It's at an all-time low!" The noxious fluids pour out of the container, splashing on the doctor's head, running all over his body. As he hopes, the shrieking and flailing intensify. The sounds are like music to his ears.
As the last few drops fall from the tank, the clown gives it an extra shake to make sure it's all out, before throwing it across the floor. "Let me ask you something... What kind of work were ya planning on doing? Why did ya put orders in to have Sakura so heavily sedated? Hmm?" The doctor sputters and cries, trying to focus on keeping the pungent liquid out of his mouth.
"Ya know what? Don't answer that. You'll just make me angrier." He bites the words out with a snarl, already livid without the doctor saying more. "But... Ya know what they say, Doc? Curiosity killed the cat!" Pulling out a pack of matches, Joker glances down at them as the corner of his mouth twitches. Striking one along the side, he gazes at the small flame on the end lovingly after it ignites. Spinning on his heel, he casually throws the match behind him.
Screams bounce off the walls of the old warehouse as the man's engulfed in flames, his body shaking in the chair. The fire bites down, tearing at the clothes and flesh doused in gasoline. Being burnt alive is a fitting punishment for the doctor's future endeavors. At least from the clown's point of view.
"Money is just like anything else. It all burns the same way." Joker grabs a chair and spins it around, plopping down to watch. The doctor's screeching, clawing at the burning ropes to try to escape from the fire. In a few seconds, he'll stop when the burns overwhelm him. They always do...
Propping his head against his arm, he watches the man burning with a bored expression. Seeing the way fire always destroys anyone and anything in its path has become such a fascination of his. A favorite pastime. Tugging a leather glove from his hand, Joker trails his calloused fingers along the scars around his mouth. The flames reflect off of his dark eyes as he stares, enjoying the way it dances around with such intensity. Slowly closing them, he grimaces when a different scene starts playing in the back of his mind. One that comes from a different life altogether...
"Eventually, everything burns..."
"Jack, I don't think it's a good idea... I just have a bad feeling about it."
The young couple lays together on a mattress, entangled in each other with only a flimsy sheet barely covering them. The bed sits on the wooden floor of the dilapidated apartment. This isn't the best of places, but that doesn't matter to either one. It's somewhere they can stay together, where no one will bother them for now.
It feels like an eternity has gone by while they sit in silence. Jack has barely said a word, for the most part, quietly mulling things over. He finally told the woman laying against his chest what he's been doing all those nights spent scouring through the streets... What he's planning to do… and she doesn't like it. Not. One. Bit.
He wasn't expecting her to be thrilled about any of this. That wouldn't be in her nature. She worries about him too much to turn the other cheek. Part of him hoped that if he exhausted her enough, maybe she's too tired to have a fit... Like always, the pinkette has reserves ready and waiting for when he tries to pull something.
Letting out a deep sigh, Jack turns towards her with a weary expression. He wishes she didn't worry since everything will be fine. It always pains him to see the small woman upset. The fact that it's him causing those feelings just makes it all worse. The night will go off without a hitch. He'll make sure of it.
"Don't worry, doll. I promise I'll come back in one piece. We need this money to get out of here."
Sakura looks away from him with a troubled expression spreading across her pretty features. He hates it when she makes that face. Why won't she just trust him on this?
Loud screaming and glass shattering ring out from the apartment next door. Right on the other side of the wall...
"Where is that fucking whore at!" A man's voice yells out clear as day, making Jack tighten his grip on the woman in his arms. Todd's looking for her again, probably drunk like every other night.
"I won't let anyone hurt you anymore..." He kisses the top of her head gingerly, his scars rubbing against the silky locks. They're always so soft against his broken, rough skin. "I need to do this job and make money to stop this. It's either that or I kill them both. Either way, this can't go on any longer... I'm getting real close to snapping."
"Jack... I'm sorry. After what you went through with your parents... Now you're still having trouble, all because of me..." Green eyes peer up into his, and he tries to stifle a chuckle. Those drug addicts next door are a cakewalk compared to his father alone. If it hadn't been for Sakura, he wouldn't have had the strength to end that entire ordeal with his own hands.
For as long as he can remember, their families lived side-by-side in one of the worst neighborhoods of Gotham. The Narrows... Everything's falling apart, from the families to their homes. No one outside of the area bothers to help or even cares.
From a young age, the two of them have been friends, sharing in each other's pain and understand that everything going on around them is wrong. If there hadn't been a single soul out there that truly resonates with him in this way, he probably would've gone insane years ago. The only stability in an unstable world...
Sakura has always been his best friend. His partner in crime. They do everything together, rolling with the punches, and dealing with the bullshit life always seems to throw their way. It's okay... No matter what happens, it'll be fine as long as someone's there to help put the pieces back together with him.
Life's consistently been rough. Nothing ever goes smoothly. No one cares what the kids in The Narrows do, as long as they stay out of the way. There isn't anyone to make sure they're taken care of, dressed properly, get an education... The only time the two bothered going to high school is to either eat or steal first aid kits from the nurse's office. It's not like anyone would report them or their parents for anything they do. No one gives a shit. They're just two wild kids running the streets together...
Jack grins, glancing down at the pinkette and recalling the last fight they got into together with some neighborhood punks. That damn McCleary asshole tried to lift Sakura's skirt when they were sitting on the railing outside of the school. He wanted to get a peek at something he had no business seeing. The anger was blinding and he resolved to break the bastard's neck. He could toss the body in the alley near the school, right where the rest of the trash belonged… in the dumpster. Before he could even get his hands on the Irish prick, the pinkette smashed the back of her head into his face and broke his nose. One swift kick to the balls and he was out for the count... It was painful, even for Jack to watch...
'She's always been the fiery one...'
"Jack? Are you listening?" The soft voice breaks the string of thoughts and images. He wraps his arms around her nude form, holding the woman tightly against him, murmuring something incoherent into her hair. "What are you thinking about, weirdo?"
"Just... how things are going to get better after this... We won't have to put up with anyone's shit after I'm done."
"Yeah, but what if something goes wrong? I… just don't want anything to happen to you. I don't know what I would do without you." Her voice is low, sounding so terribly worried. He doesn't like it when she talks like that. Right now, he'll take anger, laughter, hysterics... Anything other than sorrow and fear. Not from her...
"Sakura... You know I can't get a normal job with these scars. I have to do whatever I can. It's not like there are many opportunities as it is… much less for freaks like me. You already know this. I'm doing this for us. I'd do anything for you." He means it. Every single word and he's proven it before.
"Stop it. You're not a freak. It's not your fault what happened... I don't care about the scars. Not at all." Slim fingers trail into his messy hair, coiling a loose curl around her digits. Groaning, he leans into her palm, enjoying how smooth her skin feels against the cracked, jagged marks around his mouth. It's soothing, always calming down the racing, erratic thoughts constantly running through his mind. Sakura's softness is always at odds with his ruggedness, which is something he revels in.
Feeling the gentle tug on his unruly locks, a shiver races through his long limbs. His hips instinctively buck against her. Christ... He loves it when those hands run through his hair. That's always a sure way to set him off... The feel of those slim fingers snaking through the mess on his head, gripping and yanking at it, while he pins her small frame against the mattress. Even the tender stokes afterward are heavenly.
Jack loves her... Far more than himself, or anything else in this world.
And yet… it's because of this world that he has to get money, just so they can live quietly. All he has to do is this one job, and they'll be set for the next year. He'll finally be able to buy Sakura everything she deserves and more... Give her all the things he hasn't been able to so far.
"You're probably the only one who thinks so, but that's all that matters to me." No one else's opinion means shit. He's heard and seen it all before. A long time ago, he stopped listening to other people talk. It's just useless noise in the background.
"Come on, Jack... I know you're going to do what you want either way, so… can you at least take my charm with you?" Arching a brow, Jack looks down at her curiously. She never takes off the chain with the cherry blossom charm that her father gave her. To Sakura, it's good luck to wear it. She believes it'll keep them safe, the way her dad did when they were younger. "Please?"
One positive thing he can say about her family is that her father had been a good man. Chozu Haruno had passed away when they were younger, but both of them can still clearly remember him. He was kind, very smart. The only reason they ended up in such a dump was because of Sakura's mother. She's a drug addict and squanders every dollar he worked hard for... Aside from Sakura, Chozu only stuck around so long because, for some reason or another, he still loved her mother. Perhaps he hoped someday she would change. He ended up losing his life long before that… and Sherri has only gotten worse.
Much worse...
'My father hated him. He was the only one on the block who could put him in his place...'
"Sakura, you never take that off... Are you sure you want me to take it? What if something happens and it gets ruined?" If it ends up breaking or is lost, he'll never forgive himself. This is the only thing Sakura has left of her father and the one material possession that she cherishes.
"I don't care. If it can give you some luck and bring you back home in one piece, then that's all that matters to me." Opening the clasp on the chain, she tugs it from around her neck and puts it on him. She has complete, unwavering faith in her father's charm.
"Fine. Fine... I guess I can take it. Only because it'll make you feel better. We can use all the luck we can for tomorrow, huh?" He lets out a low chuckle, watching the woman in his arms staring up at him. "...What? Do I have something on my face?"
The pinkette laughs, trailing a finger over the scar on the side of his mouth. She knows he's joking about them. "No, I just like it when you smile and laugh. You should do it more often... I love seeing that."
Jack's neck and ears sting with heat from by her words. Only she can do that to him... It was easy for her to climb over the walls he built around himself, even when they were kids. To get him to let his guard down and enjoy life in a way he never would have if he'd been by himself. As long as Sakura's by his side, he'll never have to be alone.
Glass shatters against the wall behind their heads. More screaming can be heard from the intoxicated couple on the other side of the wall. It never seems to end and it probably won't, until they get out… or he finally kills them. He'll do it too, without any hesitation if the pinkette didn't stop him. It wouldn't have bothered him in the least to take their lives. They're an itch he's wanted to scratch for years now and after getting a taste, his hunger is never sated.
They both let out an exasperated sigh, tired of listening to the ruckus next door. Jack pulls her closer, burying his nose in her hair as she curls into his chest. Yes, things will be better after tomorrow, and they'll be able to leave this place. Forever. It'll be like he always imagined...
Until then, they can just hold each other and wait, trying to block out the noises attempting to drag them back to reality.
...
Jack hurries down the dark alleyway with a duffle bag clutched tightly under his arm.
'I did it... I got the money...'
A smirk spreads across his face, thinking of all the things he and Sakura will be able to do now. Finally, they'll be free of the hell they've been living in up to this point. Holding the bag in a death grip, he scans the surroundings, making sure no one's following him.
'I'll be damned if I went through all that, just to have some morons try to take it from me on my way back...'
He can't wait to see Sakura's face when he shows her all the money he made just from one job. It's more than either's ever seen in their entire lives so far. Not only that, but there's a special present with the pinkette's name on it, sitting deep in his pocket
"Hahahhahaa..." If only he can be able to see Sherri and Todd's faces when they search both apartments for them, only to find nothing. They'll be long gone by then, probably settling into a nice hotel room somewhere, just until he can find them a place of their own.
This is unbelievable… like being in a dream. Just him and Sakura, creating a home all to themselves. There's so much to do. He feels like bursting with the energy at the ideas popping into his mind. Having a normal life, just as he imagined. Getting married, having something that is theirs. No one to interfere or bother them. They can build a family... The Narrows will just be an old memory. A life lesson they will carry with them that makes the little things far more precious than most will ever realize. It's going to be perfect.
No more fighting or stealing. Everything they need will be at their fingertips. Sakura will never have to go without anything again. He'll make sure of that. She can do things that other women do, like buying new clothes or getting her hair done. As long as it doesn't include dyeing it, but they already have an understanding of that. He can finally give her all the things she deserves... It makes him feel ecstatic knowing he'll be able to take care of the pinkette and get her out of this hell hole.
Turning the corner onto the street where their building is, Jack quickly stops. There's a group of people standing out front, gathering into a small group. That's a sight no one wants to see in this part of town. Usually, everyone tries to avoid each other, not huddle up like that. Unless there's a street fight going on or something...
'What the hell do they want? Is it a mob after Todd for all the money he owes out? If it is… great. I hope they rip him apart.'
Walking closer, he notices police tape blocking off part of the sidewalk. Someone must've died and he thinks of a hefty list of names stored in the vault and hopes there's one he can finally cross off. Todd, Sherri, the noisy skank upstairs, the jerkoff down the hall that plays guitar in the middle of the night…
'What the fuck's goin' on now?'
Running up to the group of people and pushing past them, Jack stops at the edge of the tape. His eyes roam over the ground, widening at the sight in disbelief. A large puddle of blood on the cement. The dark fluids pool around with smears and splatters in all different directions. He can make out a few red handprints beside the streaks and droplets around them.
Handprints... Small handprints...
Jack's body freezes, unable to move an inch. A breath stills in his chest, unable to come out. His ears are ringing, the sound becoming deafening and throwing him off-balance.
What happened?
"Unbelievable... What a terrible thing to happen to such a young girl! Her family lives in the apartment above mine." A blonde has her arms wrapped around herself. Talking to the person next to her, she doesn't take her eyes away from the spot.
"Yeah... I was here when they took the body away..." A man mutters beside Jack to the woman beside him. "I can't believe how much blood there is. Her hair looks like her mom's, all red... I always thought it was so pretty. What a waste."
Jack can't move. He just stares at the blood all over the ground. There's no way to block out the voices around him. It can't be... No way. No fucking way in hell... These people aren't be talking about her, right? There's no way all that blood came from Sakura, right? It can't... There must've been some kind of mistake. Just a sick joke.
Sakura should be sitting in his room, on his bed, waiting for him to come back home from the job. She's safe… has to be. Right? Nothing bad can happen in the last few hours. It's probably someone else... Sakura has to be safe, waiting for him to come back to her, so they can leave together. To start over...
Staring at the blood all over the ground, his eyes flicker back and forth wildly in disbelief. His stomach twists in vicious knots. Even if it's an unbearable thought, part of him knows who they're talking about. She's the only one that fits the description as the words filter into his ears. The urge to cover them… to protect himself from the truth is overpowering.
No… It's not true, can't be. Large hands tremble around the bag he's holding, desperately trying not to listen to the people gossiping — sharing stories — the only person he ever gave a damn about lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood.
The pounding in his chest is thunderous, slamming against his ears, and almost drowning out the voices surrounding him. Any moment his legs feel like they'll buckle under his weight, unable to stand any longer as his head spins. This must be some horrible dream he'll wake up from any minute… and Sakura will be right there, running her hands through his hair and trying to curl up against his chest.
'Pink hair... Green eyes... Open... Limp body... Blood... Cracked skull... Stab wounds...'
Rage surges through him from listening to these… animals… finding entertainment in someone else's misery. A bunch of spectators, getting their rocks off by gossiping, sharing their accounts. Sticking their noses where they don't belong. Talking so animatedly about something so horrible, without a second thought. Not realizing who's standing among them. They don't care... It doesn't matter to them. This is just something to make an uneventful night more exciting.
"The cops took her stepdad away, but ya know how they are. Bet ya he'll be out by tonight or in the morning..."
...
The door to the apartment's kicked open, smashing into the wall behind it. The loud noise barely elicits any kind of a reaction from the woman sitting on the floor. A half-empty bottle of liquor is cradled in her hands, almost like she's worried someone might try to snag it.
A tall man stomps through the doorway, his boots the only thing making a sound in the broken-down home. The woman's bloodshot eyes drift away from the figure standing across the room. She pulls a cigarette out with a thin hand reaching up languidly to light it. "Whaddya want, Jack?"
"Where's Sakura?!" His deep voice is lower than usual, coming out of his scarred mouth as a snarl. A promise of something terrible, if he hears anything other than what he expects.
"You walked in through the front, right? I'm sure you saw... Unless they moved her already." Taking a long drag from her cigarette, the redhead blows the smoke out as she sighs.
"What. Happened. Sherri?" Taking a few steps closer, Jack slides his hand into his pocket. His rough finger coil around the handle of the weapon, gripping it tightly. He bites the out words out with his jaw snapping hard with each one. The growl in his chest resonates loudly and his entire being shakes with the effort not to lunge at the sloppy drunk on the floor. Everything in him is screaming to do it, but he wants answers first. This trash is the only one left here that can tell him. He needs to know, even if it's unbearable.
"Take a guess. The usual... I told her before it'll be easier to let him do what he wanted. That girl always has to cause trouble for us. Todd found that little door you made between your rooms. That was pretty clever of you, Jack. We always thought she used the window..." She blows the smoke out in his direction. The woman's too drunk to see the veins popping out of his bloodshot eyes or the corded muscles straining against his skin.
"One thing led to another. Someone had a knife — not sure which one — and it got out of control... She tried getting out through the window to get to the fire escape, but you know how old and rusty that thing is. The railing broke and… she fell..."
"And you… just stood there, while all this happened?" Jack pulls the knife from his pocket, far beyond anything that can resemble rage. Pressing the button on the edge, the blade springs out. Whether she's too inebriated to realize what she's saying, he doesn't care. Never did anyway.
"Whaddya want me to do? I'm not getting beat up or stabbed. Todd never asked for much. She could have made it easier for all of us. I had to deal with the cops and now my husband is out on the run. This is all her fault… and yours. You ruined my daughter... Filling her head with bullshit. Using her as your personal little cum-dumpster. The two of you always fucking knew how to make life more difficult for us."
Jack's shaking head-to-toe, stepping towards the drunk woman sitting on the floor. Todd isn't here for him to take his anger out on, but he will find him. And when he does...
"Hah! What's that for? You gonna kill me? Huh? Just like your old man? Fuck... You Napier's really are a bunch of scumbags!" Despite the angry words coming from her mouth, he can see the fear in her dull eyes. Saying whatever comes to mind to try to hurt him. She knows what he's capable of and isn't afraid to kill. Not after his father...
A gloved hand lashes out, grabbing the back of the woman's head and yanking her hair harshly. The grip's tight and unforgiving, threatening to tear the red locks straight from the base of her skull.
Picking up the liquor bottle, she tries swinging it at him. It's a useless attempt that only sends him reeling. He's much faster and stronger than she can ever hope to be. His veins are pumping adrenaline throughout his body, giving him a rush that causes his heart race. No one could have stopped him.
"Sh. Shh. Shhh! Shut up. Just relax... I mean, you only sat there drinking, while your daughter was being killed. Hmm? And you, ah, seem more upset over what's happening with Todd." Sherri shakes violently when the tight hold against her scalp forces her to look up at him. She flinches at the sight of those dark, wild eyes staring down at her as the muscles in his face twitch fiercely. His own body trembles, ready to burst with a rage she's never seen before, with murderous intent flowing from him in sickening waves.
"Aww... C'mon! What's with that look? You look so-so scared! Say, I have an idea. How about we put a smile on that face?! Hmm? How's that sound?" The corners of Jack's scarred mouth jerks up. His lips curl up, baring his teeth as it twists into a terrible grin. A grunt forces its way from his throat when he tugs her head back painfully as she flails, taking the knife and shoving it into the corner of her mouth... Just like his father did to him... "Sakura wouldn't be very happy with me to leave you looking like that. She'd want to see you smiling too..."
Sherri screams when the blade slides through her skin. It tears through the facial muscles, unforgivingly scraping against the bone. Her legs kick around wildly, desperately trying to get out of the iron-tight grip. No one could have gotten away from him at that moment. Not with the fury and adrenaline coursing its way throughout his strong body.
Blood gushes out the side of the redhead's mouth and down her throat. She chokes up, trying to get air into her lungs as it ran down her neck and chest. Jack shifts his jaw, snarling as he roughly pulls the blade out. Without hesitation, he jams it into the other side of her mouth, evening out both sides. The woman's screams are drowned out from the fluids pooling in her throat.
"I'll let you feel a small portion of the pain me and Sakura went through. All because of you people. It's gonna be a long night, lady!"
...
Jack stares down the fire escape with empty eyes. Tossing the woman right off the edge, he watches her head split from the force when it hits the ground. This didn't make him feel much better, but it gives him a small bit of satisfaction. With one last glance, he turns away. Someone lets out a shrill scream as they walk by, but he can't find it in himself to give a damn. That point of no return has already been crossed.
Dragging his feet through the destroyed apartment, he doesn't care when his boots shuffle over the splatters of blood all over the floor. Nothing seems to matter… Not anymore. A dark trail follows closely behind him, marking every step he takes.
Standing in front of the small room, his eyes squeeze shut with a grimace. This is her room… used to be. He slowly pushes the broken door open, hardly registering that it's partially hanging off its hinges.
'Todd must've done this...'
Stepping into the familiar space, his eyes study to the blood on the floor. A shuddered breath pushes itself through his ruined lips, just barely suppressing the choking sensation forming in his throat. Clenching his gloved fists, anger, and regret strike through him. This is all his fault... Just like Sherri said, but not in the way she meant. He should've been here.
'If only I had listened to her...She said she had a bad feeling. Sakura's intuition was always on point. I shouldn't have gone... Now it's all...pointless...'
Walking through the pinkette's room, Jack drinks everything for the last time. Despite all the different colors, everything looks gray. Nothing appears vibrant the way it used to. Sakura took all the colors in the world with her, leaving him in a dull haze he'll never be able to escape from.
There's no point in being here anymore. Slowly, he makes his way towards the small, concealed door he built years ago. An outlet for them to escape, from one room to the next. It was meant to keep each other safe, that's what he said to her and meant it, wholeheartedly. To Jack, it was a way to be closer to her, to have the pinkette at his fingertips. They could go to each other, without drawing anyone's attention. He put a lot of time and effort into making it, wanting it to be perfect and unnoticeable.
And it is...
A large fist smashes through the wood, going through it easily. This is the only thing separating her room from his. Leaning down, Jack drags himself over the broken pieces of the door. They have no use for it now...
He wasn't able to keep her safe... Couldn't even keep his word. All of the promises he made to Sakura, swearing he would protect her. That he would take her away from this place...
'I'm so... fucking useless. A man that can't keep his word is nothing.'
Standing up and trudging to the other side that's his room, he staggers, starting to lose balance. The pain in his chest is overwhelming, only flaring up more when his dark eyes look at the mattress on the floor. This is unbearable. The beatings are nothing, the hunger's trivial, the abuse was tolerable… but this? Nothing can ever compare.
Laying down on the bed, Jack can't care less that he's still covered in blood. It doesn't matter that it's getting on everything he touches. This is all his fault. All of it. Sakura had warned him, had begged him not to go the days leading up to the job. He's the one that walked away from her, unable to take one more look at the pinkette out of fear he might lose his nerve and not go.
'Sakura died... all alone... because of me...'
Grabbing the sheet, he pulls it up to his scarred face as his brows furrow. His chest feels like it will collapse in on itself any moment, making it harder to breathe with every passing second. How is he supposed to live without her? Maybe he shouldn't... Perhaps it will be better to join her, that way she doesn't have to be alone...
'It still smells like her...'
Hot, angry tears run down his face and he grips the sheet tightly in his fists until the knuckles turn white. Even if he tries, there's no way of holding them back. His dark eyes burn and ducts inflamed as they keep coming, and he lets them. She deserves that much from him, at least.
There's only been one other time he cried since he was a small child. The night his face was carved open with a kitchen knife. It wasn't from the pain. That's something he's become long accustomed to, even enjoys at times. No. He was afraid that Sakura might not be able to look at him anymore after his face was left in ruins. It left him angry and terrified, with resentment towards his own lot in life. Why should someone so pretty have to be stuck with a mangled mess like him? She doesn't care… not about the scars or the way his face looks now.
It doesn't matter anymore...
Sakura is dead. He traded her life for money. Money that's supposed to make their lives better...
Jack stares up at the ceiling, recalling the conversation they had the night before. How she tried to convince him not to go. To just stay home with her, and they could figure out a different plan together. One that didn't involve him robbing a place and putting his life on the line. She just wanted him to be safe, to stay with her... That the money wasn't worth what they had together and there were always other options, less dangerous ones.
'It's all so… pointless. Everything is...'
His empty dark eyes look on in a daze, thinking everything over. Replaying the last 24 hours over and over again. There's nothing left now... Sakura was right. She always is... Now, they have to pay the price for his arrogance... his greed. The lust for a normal life with the one person that ever has or will matter.
And now it's all gone... Just like that. It feels like someone snatched their lives and dreams, threw a match on them, and is watching it all go up in flames.
How... hilarious.
"Ha… Haha... AHAHAHAHHHHAAHA!" Laughter bounces off the walls in the small room as he realizes how useless it all is. Sakura's dead and now so is he...
Joker opens his eyes, remembering how the flames looked as he torched the building that night...
Looking up towards the chair where the doctor was tied, he grimaces from realizing the fire has long died out. Smoke pours off of the charred corpse with what's left of the body twisted at an odd angle from an attempt to escape.
"Tch. I missed it..."
The moment when they die. It's always been his favorite part...
