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For killing monsters Joker usually uses an elegant handgun, black and sleek as a moonless night, and a silver dagger as long and wide as a short sword. Both suit the rest of her style, no matter that she often desires bigger and bolder weapons. However, occasionally she resorts to more primal articles to deal with problems, usually because one of her loved ones or herself has been confronted with a threat in the physical world. Then out come the flames, the bats…the rocks.
Despite everything, there are still many criminals prowling the streets of Tokyo, and Sojiro wasn't entirely wide of the mark when he wondered whether or not Rin was a misfortune magnet. He goes to pick her up from a meeting late one night, parking in an underground parking lot, the most dangerous sort of parking lot. Rin's late, so he walks up and down between the pillars and cars, his mind on who she's gone to meet. Government people. Her metaversal as well as real world shenanigans have led to secret consultations and great power. Now she runs Japan from behind the scenes, and he hates it. It feels like a threat, on so many levels. So many personal levels. Sometimes he wishes she wasn't honest with him. He'd almost prefer to suffer only a regular husband’s mundane fears of the milkman, rather than have his extra rare fears of the prime minister thrown in too.
However, when a robber slides around a pillar and the point of a knife presses to his Adam's apple, his mind flies off the dung pile it's been crawling over, returning him to reality.
“Give me your stuff!” barks the mugger holding him up, his vacant eyes desperate behind his mask. Drugs, he needs cash for them now, now, now!
Sojiro raises his hands. “Hey, relax.”
“Give me your stuff, asshole!”
“Take it.” Sojiro rasps, with difficulty. He's not a superhero, and not a violent person, he can't do anything, and that knife is pressing into his throat, drawing blood.
The thief prepares to step forward and take all he can get, but a sudden clattering sound to his right makes him look away, and remove the knife point ever so slightly away from his victim's throat. Something in the latter's mind commands him to throw himself back, and he does, a moment before a livid Rin herself slides around the pillar and brings down a rock on the criminal's temple, the type of flat, heavy rock people use to hold doors open.
There's a sickening crack. The mugger goes down, crashing to the dirty concrete, limp as a dead fish. Rin, angry and afraid as she is, is not actually a psycho, so she confines herself to only the one blow.
“Come on.” she says, shoving Sojiro fairly roughly. Only once they're locked in his car does she add softness, slapping a black plaster on his throat, her hands shaking violently.
“I guess you'd be upset if that mugging went wrong, huh?” Sojiro says, attempting to both lighten the mood, and receive reassurance.
“Don't joke. You're not good at it. And can you pay more attention to your surroundings, please? Why are you getting into trouble at your age? You're not due for a mid-life crisis.” Rin hands her beloved some chocolate and a cigarette, a perfect combo for relaxing.
“Hahaha, now you sound like me. Think of these random events as revenge for all the worry you put me through.” he says, eating a piece of dark goodness. This kind of thing is not exactly old hat, but he's come to accept a certain amount of violence in his life. Back before Rin arrived in his life, he'd get mugged and that would be it. Now he's saved from muggers, which is much better.
“How can you still be talking so much shit with a hole in your throat?” she sighs.
“Ha, that's nothing. Watch this.” wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, Sojiro pulls her over for a smoky smooth, chocolaty kiss.