Chapter Text
The silence of the corridor called to him. Jun faced the imposing void of light.
He stepped down the long hall, feet light and quick as though a tailwind carried him. There was no echo, no click of his heels. The quiet between the cold concrete of the walls was unnatural. His hand brushed against it and they felt cold, though buzzed with a warmth that felt as though it had once been there. It was a fuzzy feeling. It was almost familiar.
The hall seemed to never end. Voices finally emerged from the muffled silence. They were too faint, too distorted to make sense of. But one was deep. It filled Jun with an all too familiar dread yet he somehow knew he had never heard it before. The blinding lights finally relent like fog lifting after a storm, and Jun could make out what looked to be the inside of a jail cell. He bit down rushing forward and the sense of guilt.
“Welcome to the Velvet Room,” an old wisp of a voice echoed throughout the hall to the large empty room just beyond the cell. It was a welcome home to a weary heart and Jun couldn’t help but move forward. His steps finally sounded as he walked just beyond the broken cell door. Joker quickly turned.
Even behind that white mask, those damp gray eyes were wide. A tired aire of exhaustion hung over him like a heavy blanket.
“My, it would seem a ‘welcome back’ is in order as well.”
Joker stared, dumbstruck. A familiar and distressing look was in his eyes that Jun had seen before. Joker—Akira—is stressed. Well beyond what any teenager should feel. He looked ready to fall apart and Jun choked back his aching heart.
“What are you doing here?” His son asked. His voice wavered with the effort to keep it steady. Jun looked between him, the young girl in blue at his side, and the strange familiar man with those sharp knowing eyes. For once the blue of the Velvet Room was heavy. It had turned to a burden on the occupants and the looming jail cells and disturbingly empty. This place, gently nestled between consciousness and dreams, was not the sanctuary it was supposed to be. Jun looked back to his son, weary and surrounded by the oppressive blue. Jun wished he had done more.
But he was here now.
“I needed to find you,” Jun said.
A shadow of a smile tugged at Akira’s face.
“It would seem the flame of rebellion still burns brightly within you,” the young girl said with a gentle smile and observant golden eyes. Something about her reminded Jun of the residences he had once known. But whatever she had meant by that, it was left behind. Akira shoved his mask out of his face and into his messy hair. He beelined for Jun. They caught each other in a tight embrace. Red gloves clingged tight to Jun’s tan cardigan.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Akira mumbled into Jun’s shoulder. Jun carded his fingers through the curls of Akira’s hair.
“Whatever for?” There were a few things that crossed his mind that he could guess Akira would want to apologize for. Jun felt no need for them. Akira pulled away and Jun looked up at that somber, wet look in Akira’s defeated eyes. Breath catching, Jun cupped Akira’s face between his hands. Akira just breathed, staggered and deliberate, and Jun patiently rubbed a thumb over the curve of Akira’s cheek. It was no longer as round as it used to be.
Akira bit into his lower lip as he fidgeted, fighting for the words he seemed to struggle with finding.
“I’m— Ah. I’m not as strong as everyone thinks I am. Needs me to be,” Akira finally admitted between them. His hands reached up and red gloves grab on to Jun’s wrists. They did not pull him away. “It tried to make a deal with me, and I… I almost took it.” He shamefully whispered. “I almost gave everything up just for the easy way out.” He bit into his lip once again as his eyes screw shut.
Jun gently pulled one hand away and smoothed out those unruly bangs, brushing them aside.
“Then you are stronger than I was at your age.”
Akira’s breath hitched and he looked up. He was met with Jun’s soft, yet steady eye. Jun smiled and it did nothing to quell the quiet and distraught confusion written in Akira’s knit brows.
Jun slipped his hands away and took Akira’s in his own. He looked down at the vibrant red, seemingly glowing in contrast to the ethereal blue. Red was a color that had always looked good and fitting on Akira. Jun was glad he had not been wrong about that. But as he smiled down at those hands in his, they no longer fit in the palm of Jun’s. He cannot wrap his own completely around it as he guides him across a street, or encompass it as he shows him how to hold a pencil and write his own name. They had become strong in their own right, capable of elegantly mastering a knife in a battle and in the kitchen. They’ve pushed him up each and every time he had fallen.
With a sense of calm, Jun looked up and placed a hand overtop his son’s. He kept smiling.
“Despite your temptation, do you believe you stayed true to your ideals?”
Akira hesitated.
“I—I think so.”
“Then I’m proud of you.”
Akira’s hands tightened in his own as he let that sink in. Jun didn’t doubt he would come around.
“Whatever happens,” Jun started again, patting Akira’s hands, “know that Tatsuya and I will always be there, right behind you.” Jun stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and holding his head high, prompting Akira to do the same. He followed suit.
A chuckle rung through the room. Igor sat behind his desk, hands folded neatly under that large, pointed nose as he smiled knowingly at them.
“How intriguing that the son of one who fought and defied fate himself is destined for the same. Truly fascinating.” That smile of his had always been uncanny. Jun fought down the discomfort of the man’s words, disliking the implications. He did not want to believe Igor had a hand in all this, though evidence seemed to point otherwise thankfully.
Akira took a deep, steadying breath. He lowered his mask over his eyes once again. Joker stood confidently.
“We need to get back,” Jun said. “Tatsuya will come looking for us if we don’t get back to him soon.” Joker didn’t move.
“I need to find my friends.”
Jun paused.
“They’re here as well?”
The young girl stepped forward. The book she carried was almost as large as her torso.
“Yes,” she answered for Joker. She looked up to him, a stern look to her petite face, “However, as you need reaffirmation of your actions and will, they too may need you to help guide them back.” She spoke with a calmness to her soft voice that carried a wisdom far beyond her childlike tone. “They are all just beyond here and they need you.” She motioned to a doorway across the circular room that lead to branching halls. Further down is a large staircase. Jun could see a red glow just above.
Joker nodded. As he took a step towards it, Akira looked back to Jun. Jun nodded and Joker ran off towards the halls, coat tails trailing behind him as he fixed a vibrant red glove.