Chapter Thirty Nine: Heart in Chains

Hi, Edward.

I'm so sorry. I do realise it's been a while since I last wrote. It's not necessarily that I'm such a terrible pen pal, but to be honest, things haven't been great around here lately. When I sat down to write, I didn't even know where to start. In the end, I decided to begin with the most trivial.

For starters, I've fallen out of habit with some pastimes. It's not really that important an issue, but these gave both a sense of structure and diversity to my days. I've known how damaging it can be to focus single-mindedly on one thing. Back in my final high-school year, I swore I'd never fall back into the same vice. I'm not convinced I'm there yet, so that's something.

Next item: School has been quite tough lately… No, you're not misreading. My education really isn't the greatest of my concerns right now. The world must be coming to an end, huh? I have to say, even the joke doesn't feel very funny to me right now. The transition from high school to university admittedly wasn't the easiest at first, but I did eventually get ahead of the curve. And now, I feel like I'm back on square one. Don't get me wrong, this hasn't deterred me from pursuing my dream. But it feels awful – I really have no other way to express it.

And then there's my two chief concerns. In a way, one correlates to the other. I hope you can forgive me, but I'm going to be a little vague here. I don't feel very comfortable getting into details. I'm sure you'll understand, my fellow comrade in misfortune.

My friends and I, we have this event coming. Preparations are underway, and they'll take a couple of weeks. I'm really out of my depth, but my friends each do their part to perfection. I'm actually a little jealous of some of the skills they're showing, but I digress. The thing is, this event is important, VERY important. And a lot of bad things could happen if it didn't go as planned. Safe to say, I'm extremely nervous.

My boyfriend is also participating in this event. In a way, he's been shouldering a lot of involvement even before it was put on paper. He tries not to show how much it taxes him, but I suspect it's a lot more than he shows whenever he lets his guard down. Sometimes it feels like he's building this wall around him, and he deliberately keeps us away. And sadly, it's not even the first time he's done this. Anyway, we had a bit of a fight yesterday. And it all stemmed from this infamous event. Things are calm now, but we haven't spoken since.

I know we'll be okay. But what truly worries me is whether he will. I just want to put this damned event behind us, and move on with our lives. All of us.

Again, I'm so sorry. Not a word from me in weeks, and now I'm pouring all my troubles on you. I really hope you've been well, and I hope I'll have better news for next time. This goes without saying, but don't hesitate to tell me about your troubles. When life turns around so drastically, it's always a joy to have a friend to confide in. For this reason, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If it's not too much trouble, I have a favour to ask. Could you keep my friends and me in your prayers?

Sincerely, your friend in Japan, Makoto

[ ]

Makoto slid the letter into the envelope, ready to be sent the following day. She poured herself into writing a reply to her friend immediately after reading his latest letter, neglected a week. The young woman would never admit it, but she only thought of looking at this late correspondence to distract herself from the memory of recent hours. She was tempted to write that she actually cried after that argument with Akira.

Nothing they said would remain a lasting wound. But this loathsome saga had driven them to this point. And to think it all started as a peaceful afternoon in her apartment. Things went south as soon as they approached the subject of the latest venture into the other side.

"What the hell were you thinking, going there alone!?" He said all of a sudden.

Makoto was shocked speechless for a moment. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at her. She was even more confused when considering he barely made a visible reaction when the group got the news the previous day.

"Didn't it occur to you that you may attract Nyarlathotep's attention, or…!?"

"First off, Akira." There was a little edge to her voice when she shook off the initial impression. "I wasn't alone. I went there with Ann and Futaba. And you know it better than anyone, we'd never stay there for long. We'd retreat at the very first sign of trouble. And as soon as we got the information we sought after, we did just that."

"You underestimate them."

"Maybe, maybe not. In either case, this was information we desperately needed. One way or another, we needed to make one more trip to know if the plan would work."

"Whose idea was it?"

"It doesn't matter whose idea it was." Makoto did not wish to bring Ann up. Her intentions and thoughts were sound, and she did not deserve to be a recipient of his ire. "And you must realise that we are Phantom Thieves. You know this better than anyone: we've always had to take risks in order to accomplish the goal."

"Like you did with Kaneshiro?"

She could not tell whether he meant that as a low blow. It certainly felt that way to her, and she would not take it lying down. Makoto felt the anger move the muscles in her face.

"You did not just…"

"You should have brought this up with the rest of the group." He said, undaunted.

"I had good reason not to let everyone know, especially not you."

"What?"

"Because…" The reasoning also came from Ann. Makoto actually suggested they did let everyone know. However, her friend made a strong case. Not only did they not have the luxury of time to prove her theory, there was another factor to consider. But the sadness in Ann's words translated into anger, coming from Makoto. "… too much of this weighs on you."

She instantly regretted saying that, and it was that same harrowing feeling what kept her paralysed as Akira walked away. It came as a grim realisation that those words did not sound quite the same to either of them. To her, it was just an acknowledgement that he should not bear the weight alone. But to him, compounded by the heated tempers, it sounded like an acknowledgement of blame. As it is, he already held himself at fault for everything that has happened with Nyarlathotep and the other Joker.

And for all that he held against himself, he never expected her to echo the same bitter feeling.

Please don't go. I didn't mean that. Please. Don't go. Don't go. Don't go.

But the words just would not leave her lips.

And then he was gone.

[ ]

Makoto woke up in her room two hours later. She ran outside minutes after Akira left, desperate to find him and apologise for what she said. Her common sense told her he was surely back at LeBlanc, but her body moved on its own devices. The search met a hopeless end, and she had no remedy but return to apartment as it began to rain. Makoto locked herself in her room, and crashed landed on her mattress. She reached for Buchi-kun, the one Akira gave to her, and hugged it tight against her chest.

The young woman then dreamt a restless dream, waking up to the vibration of her phone, and a message from her boyfriend.

I know you didn't mean harm by what you said. I wish I didn't say anything about K. It was wrong of me to act like this, even if you should have let us know before going in. I promise I'll never be such a disgraceful guest again.

I'm sorry. I love you.

A second message arrived a few seconds later.

I'm proud of you, and everything you do.

Makoto stayed there for a moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard on the screen. She wanted to give him a response to bury the trouble between them. But a peculiar feeling within kept her transfixed in the moment. It was violent, but benign at the same time. It felt like her heart was breaking free from some unknown yoke, and while this was not the first time she felt something like this, it was the strongest yet.

Lately, time spent with the people she cared for conjured this sensation. If she had to make an estimate, it began to occur upon returning from the other side for the first time. The young woman dwelt on this for only so long before she started thinking of a reply.

Something to soothe the air once laden thick with anger and worry.

[ ]

Akira received Makoto's goodnight several hours ago. Imagining those words spoken with her voice helped him somewhat. But there was no true calm for him that night. He knew in his heart what was real, and what the world outside his window was like. And he knew that if, rather when he walked out the door, it would not appear that way to him. His eyes would tell him he was back in Kawasaki, on a lifeless, black night - much like when Nyarlathotep first got his hands on his thoughts and memories.

Though a mockery of reality, the distortion was genuine in its own, unlikely way. The progression of Nyarlathotep's influence was slow, and gradual; but such a sudden transformation was no accident. Something provoked this change, for good or ill.

Perhaps it was Makoto who forced this change, without her knowing it.

Akira could continue to be angry at her, to fear for her. But even now, he could not deny she may have given him an unexpected boon.

Like I need anything more from you. Your love is all I could ever need.

There was a sudden dull ache in his temples.

You, and the others. To me, you're worth dying for. No… living for.

The sensation grew more intense, like a vacuum inside of his head.

Being with you all forever. That's all I ever want.

The confirmation was there, translating into pain that travelled across his body like blood running through his veins. His other self, replicated under the Crawling Chaos' design, was nearby. What's more, it responded to his thoughts. Though the doppelgänger had been invading this world, it was now Akira who caught him in the act. And his approach now was much different than before.

The Joker did not feel like an unstoppable threat looming into the world. Its approach was more akin to that of a wounded animal, rabid and bleeding out – but not any less dangerous for it. All things considered, it would be unthinkable to try and engage it. And that was precisely what Akira intended to do. The only precaution was to take his coat so as not catch a cold.

I love you.

One step down the stairs of LeBlanc. One thought. One jolt of pain.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Akira's hand was on his chest by the moment he walked through the café's door. His heart felt like it would burst, but that was something he would simply need to cope with as he walked through the streets of a false Kawasaki, in search for his other self.

Metres ahead, things started looking more and more like that infamous night over a year ago. First one figure, frozen in horror, and then another. Akira knew them well, but he still could not bring himself to look at them directly. The strangest thought came into his head: that perhaps he may at least come upon with a name for them, something that none else but him would know.

Then came the sound.

The groan that bordered the divide between human and beast. He found it more than unsettling that it sounded indeed like it was his own voice, even if altered by the means that birthed it. And even more so, that Akira could not tell whether it was far or nearby.

Though reckless, he saw no other choice but to make his presence known.

"I am here." He said, pushing all fear deep below.

There was no response.

"Listen." A little louder this time. "I am here." Akira continued to call out to his other self. The first hints of a reply were the vibrations in the airwaves, something similar to a growl that slowly intensified.

Then, in the midst of the dark, he saw two bright, yellow eyes.

Staring wild and hatefully.

"Yes. Come to me." He called out more confidently. "What you were made for, that's not all there is to you… am I wrong?"

Only loud breathing as acknowledgement.

"Beneath that Joker casing, there's a heart that beats. I'm only seeing it now, but I'm sure it is true."

Akira swallowed a fearful breath and slowly approached the light of the eyes.

"You hate this place, don't you? You hate what it's in here. And what it means."

"Ma…. Mak…" The doppelgänger uttered. It was a most weary voice; as painful to hear as it likely was to speak.

"Yes." Akira probed. While he did not entirely comprehend what led to his double's response, the pieces in his head came together.

But before he could silently claim a victory, the air was pulled right out of his lungs as he fell to the ground. The next thing he knew, barely a second later, was that his stomach felt like a train had smashed against it. And in the distance ahead, hasty footfalls scraped against the asphalt in a harsh getaway. The groan turned into a bloodcurdling scream in the unseen distance.

"I'll make you free." Akira managed to say with what little voice he could muster in that moment. He could not know whether Joker heard him, but that mattered none. His mind was made up. Nyarlathotep may be incredibly powerful, but the extent of his might was still bound to his "knight's" success. Without his Joker, the Dark Lord would be looking at another exile from this world.

There was a certain, strange irony to this epiphany. None of the Phantom Thieves stood face to face with the other Joker. The only reference behind the fear was how easily he cut down the failed replicas, who struggled none to defeat the Phantom Thieves. The dread was construed around a relation of vulnerability. And it is another one such relation what may just be the key to victory.

Akira had the foundations of his plan already set. They started as suspicions, eventually leading to belief. And now his conviction was engraved in stone. In method, he was close to achieving it tonight. But he could not hope to accomplish a thing in here. This dark, false Kawasaki was just an outburst, an illusion projected onto Yongen-jaya. There was only place where any significant change could occur, and stick.

There were only two physical constants in Nyarlathotep's realm. One was his palace. The other was a place hidden amidst a rocky formation. The latter was the one that mattered, for it was the Joker's cradle. In order to free him and cripple Nyarlathotep's schemes, Akira needed to turn him in the other side. In a way, he had to somehow steal his double's heart.

Easy as that.

But he could not let Makoto know, or Ryuji, or anyone else. If they knew, they would brook no argument against accompanying him. That was tactically sound; it was exactly the kind of thing for which he would need support. But he knew what awaited in that dark place. Considering the volatility of the place in relation to anyone outside of Nyarlathotep's initial design, bringing anyone else could yield unpredictable consequences. Perhaps they would end up facing great perils, or Joker may feel more compelled to directly engage them. A one-man operation with less variables may well be a better option in the end.

But in truth, Akira's reason was far baser.

He simply did not want them to see what was in there.

Akira was back in LeBlanc a few minutes later. There was some solace in Sojiro being home at that time of the night. Less explanations to be told, and Boss would surely pick up on it if he lied. Unfortunately, Morgana was in Akira's room, and he was every bit as sharp as Sojiro.

"Where were you?" The feline's demand came under the thin guise of a question.

"I was outside. I needed some fresh air."

"In the immortal words of one Ryuji Sakamoto, that's bull."

"Fifty-fifty. I was outside, yes. But I needed some time to think."

"On what?"

"The masquerade. It's a lot of logistics, and I feel like I absolutely need to wrap my head around every step of the way."

"You're not wrong. It's a lot to do. But you shouldn't burden yourself needlessly. Our work is cut out for us, Phantom Thieves. The others have their role to play, and I believe they'll deliver. You should too."

"I do."

"You know that in this context, that means getting some rest, which you should be having right now."

"Yes, mum."

"Who loves me, by the way. And speaking of love, I think you should take a look at your messages."

"Huh?" Akira's phone lay on the mattress. A few notifications showed on the screen when he passed his thumb over it.

"I didn't read anything, but I did catch a glimpse of a name on the screen. Just thought that may help you cool your spirits a little."

"Yeah…" Akira looked a little troubled, remembering the most recent events between his girlfriend and he. "I think I'll read this before turning in. Be right back, I'll go change."

A couple of minutes passed, and all lights in LeBlanc were off. The inside of the place somewhat resembled the quiet streets outside, but one soul remained awake, his face lit by the glow of his phone. It was 2 in the morning, but he found little harm in reading Makoto's latest text message one more time. And just like Morgana said, that certainly helped take his mind off a few things.

His wished her goodnight one hour ago, and to his surprise, she replied when she ordinarily would be asleep.

Things were on the mend between them now. Things would start fresh come the morrow, as they walked the path towards the Masquerade, and the future that lies past that day. But despite himself, one thought lagged in his mind, and refused to leave, like a persistent connection between what he could share with those he cared for, and the things he had to keep to himself.

The one word Joker said, or was close to saying. The thing that confirmed Akira's suspicions. A conjuration of love and fear.

Makoto.