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His mind felt like a ribbon unraveling. Maybe that wasn’t quite it; perhaps more like a string on a tightened spool of thread that was finally cut. Muscles felt sore, taut, until, all at once, they didn’t. Familiar, yet his memory was unfurling, as if a fleeting dream was leaving his mind. A fleeting nightmare; one that leaves your chest heaving and your eyes wet. A nightmare you’re glad to see is just fleeting. But reality was colder; a frigid, bitter truth that smacks you like an icy wave. Jun was Joker and Joker had been leading the world to its own ruin this whole time.
Reuniting with everyone was bittersweet. Their love felt unearned, unwarranted. How could they still care for him after all he’d done? He couldn’t wrap his head around how close Maya held his frail body when he awoke, or how relieved Lisa’s choked voice sounded, or how Eikichi dropped his act in favor of a tearful smile. Then there was Tatsuya, his usual stone face had dropped, his eyes wide and gleaming, as if he just struck gold. Wordlessly, he flicked his lighter, showing Jun that he'd been with him the whole time. I have always held onto you. I never gave up on you.
Moments passed by him in a blur. His mind worked overtime, attempting to keep him grounded in the moment, present and calm. His body was slack, strewn on the shrine’s stony steps. The day’s events replayed in his head over and over, his memory still just as fragile as glass. He began to question the words he dared to hear, his only proof of it actually occurring being the others’ reactions in the moment.
“Tatsuya–” Jun began, his hands trembling at the sudden anxiety bubbling in his chest. He was looking at his other half, his mirror, but he couldn’t help but feel he had shattered that mirror ages ago. If it was ten years ago, Jun would have already been on his third subject by now in speech, but he felt uncomfortable in the silence he had once grown accustomed to. Jun used to find solace in these periods of quiet, but now he feared it was bred from resentment. He clutched his head as dull, bitten fingernails dug into his scalp. It couldn’t have been true, then.
A warm hand grabbed his own then, rough and calloused with a grip like iron. Jun could feel his eyes dampen, knowing he just opened Pandora’s box. “Did you mean it? Your words at the temple, I mean.” Jun’s voice trembled, unlike his normal cadence. The glass was cracking, a feeling of uncertainty creeping on his spine. “Of course I did,” Tatsuya said plainly. He was always one to tell you how it was, no words minced.
Jun’s chest tightened, a mixture of ten years worth of adoration and guilt stirred within him, a terrifying hurricane whirling inside of him. He felt relieved and grateful, and yet, incredibly vexed. “After all this, why?” Jun’s voice was hoarse, sticking to his throat. “H-how? How after everything I have done?” He stole back his hand, swiping it away from Tatsuya’s warmth. With knees hugged to his chest, he began to sob, convulsing and burying his face away. “I was reprehensible,” he choked out. “I did such horrible things.”
The silver lighter in Tatsuya’s hand clicked, as he fiddled with it. Jun’s words gripped Tatsuya, as they so often did. Softly, his thumb grazed the carving on the zippo. The words were like a roadmap that he knew like the back of his hand. He had traced these very words for years, knowing exactly where they ended and began. The words may as well be carved onto his heart at this point.
Tatsuya shifted, hesitating before wrapping his arms around Jun’s shoulders. “I would have done the same,” were the words Tatsuya found. His heart ached, a sudden fear of losing Jun again made his stomach sick. He tightened his grip around him, hoping his concern would shine through the action. The boy shook under his touch, as if burned, scathed. “Even so—” Jun’s voice cracked. “Even so, how could you still care for me?” Teeth gnashed, the grit hard enough to break the bone seated in his mouth. His flesh was blisteringly warm, frustrated by the prospect of someone being able to care, let alone love him in such a way.
“How do you not hate me?”
Jun’s mother and father never got along well, always either ignoring each other or fighting. There was no blueprint, there were no instructions, only what he saw and perceived through them. Hatred felt easy, contended. Something he could slip into without thought. As good of a reason as any. As much as he didn’t want Tatsuya to loathe him, part of him needed it so. It felt justifiable; a repentance for all Jun had done. If the person he loved the most despised him, maybe it would be retribution enough for his actions.
“I never could,” Tatsuya replied, his grip unwavering. “You should.” Jun wiped his eyes, darkening his teal sleeve. “Never,” Tatsuya repeated.
“Tacchi–” Jun froze. A nickname from the past dug its way back to the forefront of his mind. It was like clockwork, rolling right off his tongue. “Ah, sorry. It’s been years since I’ve said that, right?” Forlorn, Jun cast his eyes down, the sting of his own memories betraying him once more. Except this time, everything had flooded back. The memories were honey, warm and dripping in sickly nostalgia. He remembered playing in the park with the same boy a decade earlier, sand sticking to his hands and knees. The two built a sandcastle, lopsided and imperfect. As they often did, they spent the whole day together, picking flowers and lazily kicking themselves off the creaky swings. It was a home away from home; their own domain.
The sky was gold, as the sun clung to the last shreds of the day. “Tacchi–” Jun recalled himself in the memory, shy yet sure. “Will we always be together?” He shuffled his feet, as dirt stuck to his soles. Tatsuya grabbed his hand then, wordlessly, wrapping his pinky around Jun’s own. His head nodded, a small smile creeping onto his lips.
Jun clutched his heart as the memory faded from his eyes. “I–I understand now.” The metal on his wrist was warm, as it always was. A comfort in the throes of his mind collapsing. The day it had ceased ticking offered no comfort to Jun. But now, the original owner was right next to him, as he always was and perhaps always will be. The idea pleased Jun, despite the guilt swimming within him. Maybe even someone like him could find solace in this comfort once more.
“My heart belongs to you.”
His mind must have still been playing games with him. Jun thought for sure he had misheard, as if the wind had whispered in his ear, until he turned his eye to see Tatsuya holding a stemmed mass of heliotropes. The petals were small but full, a constellation of violet blossoms in his hand. His face was burning, a stern look plastered on his face with eyes gleaming with sincerity. Jun sat in awe of the gesture, flattered that Tatsuya not only had listened to his ramblings from so long ago, but actually retained them.
Jun’s heart ached. His memory was fractured far beyond repair for so long and he could only remember needing to kill his friends. To kill Tatsuya. His own mind deceived, manipulated, breaking open like a dam. Jun wished he could do something, anything to make sure Tatsuya understood how he felt, but words could not carry the same weight. The heliotropes already spoke for him, a mouthpiece he had once relied on constantly.
Realizing he had not responded, Jun floundered, gently taking the flowers from Tatsuya’s hand. His fingers grazed the petals as the sickly sweet scent filled his senses, rejuvenating him. Tatsuya’s face was downcast, avoiding Jun’s eye as he awaited any sort of answer. Fear still gripped him, but perhaps it was time to allow for no more time to be wasted.
Jun laced his fingers in between Tatsuya’s own, his grip firm but benign. “As does mine.”
Placing the heliotrope bundle in his uniform pocket, Jun raised his now free hand to Tatsuya’s chest. The boy’s heart palpitated, pounding against his palm. Guiding Tatsuya’s laced hand, Jun repeated the same action, onto his own chest. Tatsuya’s hand twitched for a moment, feeling Jun’s heart rapidly beating against him.
Tatsuya’s mouth was agape, pink dusting his cheeks. “Then, we’ll be together?” He asked, timorous. Everyone always saw him as such an intimidating guy, a daunting figure that ruled over Seven Sisters in popularity. But that wasn’t his Tatsuya. He was reserved, sheepish; a force to be reckoned with sure, but awkward and still so uneasy. He was a protector, a caring boy who only wanted to see his friends safe.
Jun was still apprehensive, undeserving. However, the thought of not having Tatsuya by his side felt like torture.
And after all, they did make a promise to each other. His pinky wrapped around Tatsuya's own.
“I’ll be with you always, Tacchi.”