~Joker's POV~

My eyes slowly drifted open only to be met by harsh sunlight from the window. I hissed slightly, sitting up and rubbing my eyes until they got used to the brightness of the morning sun. I looked over at the clock. 8:00 in the morning. Not something I can really complain about. This is a good time for people to start waking up. Good time to start the day. I thought. My thoughts were more clear than they normally were in the mornings. I got out of bed with a yawn before trudging downstairs. I noticed the detective sitting on the couch, staring blankly out the window, seeming to be lost in thought. I smirked, quickly and quietly moving behind him. I draped my arms over his shoulders before poking his cheek. "Whatcha thinking about?" I questioned. He jumped slightly, shooting me a glare over his shoulder. "Oh its just you." He mumbled, relaxing slightly. "And it's nothing you need to worry about." He said, dropping eye contact. I hummed a little, his words sounded tired. "By the way, I think Mona has rubbed off on you." I commented. "Speaking of, is he here or-." "Oh I just let him wander about. He only shows when he gets hungry or is demanding attention." I explained. "Wait....He doesn't pester you about sleeping?" The detective questioned. "Nope." I said. ".........OH F*CK OFF!!!" He shouted. I chuckled a little bit, the red head starting to blush. "Can you get off me?" He questioned. I hummed a little. "Nah. I can see it bothers you so Imma just stay here for a little bit." I said. He groaned in annoyance and tried to push me off. However my grip was stronger. That's when I heard my phone going off upstairs. "Aw man. Wonder who that is." I said. I let go of the detective and sprinted upstairs. I entered my room and picked up my phone. "Yesssss?" I questioned. "Hey Joker, it's Flame." I smirked. "Ah, to what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you this fine morning?" I questioned. "I was just calling to check in. Also we do have a meeting today. Oh, that reminds me, your new knife came in." She responded. "Wait...we have a meeting today?" I questioned. "Umm...yeah." She responded. "....S*IT!" I shouted. I started running around the room getting dressed with Flame still on the phone. "Umm. Joker are you alright over there?" Flame questioned. "Yep! Totally didn't forget about the meeting or anything!" I shouted. Once I was dressed in my uniform and had all my stuff together I took a running start and jumped down the stairs with Flame still on the phone. The detective looked at me in surprise as I tucked into a roll and stood up. I started running for the door. "Bye detective! I'll be back soon! Don't touch my s*it or so help me!" I called before running out the door.

~Karma's POV~

That was....weird. I thought. I pulled out Joker's Journal and continued my work on reading it. I sighed, mind elsewhere, making it harder to think clearly about what I was reading in the journal. I closed the book, staring at the cover with an intense glare. I groaned slightly throwing my head back. "God I'm bored." I growled. "Hasn't even been five minutes since she left and I'm already bored. The hell is up with me recently?" I questioned. I looked over at the stairs leading down into the basement. My thoughts grew silent. "Do I dare risk death over my own curiosity?" I questioned aloud. I smirked a little. "I may find something I don't want, but I could find something interesting at least." I said. I got off the couch and ran upstairs quickly to the guest room. I placed the journal next to some of my other stuff before running back downstairs. I approached the stair case leading down into the basement. I stopped, staring into the darkness below. I smirked a little walking down the stairs. I came to a door at the bottom and opened it. I walked into the basement room and my eyes widened in slight shock. The room seemed to have a purplish tint to it with black walls. The floor was black and white checkered pattern with a black rug in front of a giant flat screened TV. In front of the TV was a (F/C) couch and bean bag with a small coffee table settled in between them. A book shelf stocked with books sat neatly in the corner. The TV was hooked up to a bunch of game consoles as a basket of games sat off to the side. In another corner sat a desk with a laptop on it along with one or two flip phones. And in the other corner there was a punching bag and training dummy. The training dummy had a few stab marks. "Is this...?" I trailed off walking around the room and examining a few things. I picked up one of the flip phones and flicked it open, seeing a list of different contacts and numbers. Some named, others not. I closed the flip phone and placed it back where I found it before opening the laptop. It opened immediately to the Dark Knights websight along with a bunch of other tabs leading to different websights and all kinds of different searches. I closed the laptop and walked over to the book shelf. I looked over some of the books realizing that most were fantasy story books of advanced level. A few horror books here and there. And a few that listed a name...very familiar to me. "Arsene?" I questioned, pulling one of the books off the shelf. I flicked it open to the first page and started reading a little. I put the book back after a couple of minutes. "So Joker is a big reader huh? Should've seen that coming. There are books all over the place after all." I said to myself. I looked at some of the fantasy titles, recognizing a few of them. I was never that big of a reader but I did enjoy a good book once in a while if I was bored. I walked over to the basket of games and flicked through them, looking for anything that may catch my interest. I didn't recognize a lot of these games but I could tell that they were mostly RPGs, Puzzle Adventure, and Mystery games. "Advanced books, strategy based RPGs, Puzzles, and Mysteries?" I questioned. I sat down on the couch thinking about what I've found. That's when I noticed something on the coffee table. A simple notebook. Not a spiral notebook. And nothing like the hard cover journals I was so used to seeing with Joker. It had a pencil sticking out of it. I picked up the book carefully, to not move the pencil too much. I opened the cover and found something I wasn't expecting in the slightest. In blocky, child-like hand writing, was a small poem. Curious I started reading it. And by the time I was done I had a small smile on my face. "So Joker wrote poetry when she was younger huh? Why does she still have this then?" I questioned. I flicked to the next page, finding another poem. This one a little better made. Still obviously from a young Joker that left me with a smile. Then slowly, as I continued reading, the poems went from happy and cheerful, to more bittersweet. Starting with one titled smile.

Smile:

I wake with a bright smile, Something we do all the time, The sun greeting me warmly, As it does in the morning,
Smile, smile, smile,
Life is a gift, Skip in my step, A wonderful friend I've made, Happiness like a parade. So I sprint down the stairs, Thinking that all is fair,
My smile is a lie, A front I hold up, So no one sees me cry, The day marches on, My path never fond,
Blood spills on my hands,
Cut, slice, chop,
What have I done?

I sat there in silence, processing what I just read. "She must have made this when she went insane." I mumbled aloud. I was slowly piecing together an idea of what incident she was talking about in the poem. "The first time she killed someone perhaps? Maybe the day after she had made a friend?" I said, speaking my thoughts. The next poem seemed just as dark, titled echo.

Echo:

Walking through the halls of my long empty home, I jump at every sound, every noise, every creek in the floor, Mommy, Daddy, why won't you open the door?
The noises, they surround, bouncing off the walls, How long has it been, since when did I fall?Darkness consumes, everything is quiet, I can't run, I can'd hide, all I can do is fight.
I killed them, their blood on my hands, Why do I still see them, why do I still hear their plans?They want to hurt me, they still shout at me, What did I do wrong?
All I want is to be free.
Their voices echo, Just like the past, All I saw was red, And then they were dead.

I covered my mouth with my hand. She didn't...their's no way right? I thought. I remembered back in the Palace, the two wardens.... I continued to the next poem, and continued reading until I finally came to one in about the middle of the book. Titled simply as, bloodlust.

Bloodlust:

Emotions are complex, Feelings we don't understand, This new thing I'm feeling, Oh how it's grand.
A foreign thing is what it is, But it's name I do not know, Every time I land a hit it grows.My movements seem to flow as it takes hold, Slowly consuming, everything else goes cold.

Bloodlust.

Is that what it's called? I guess it makes sense. A strong urge to see blood. That would explain it.
Why whenever I see red, Someone ends up dead. That being said, Bloodlust needs to be fed,
But something I've noticed, Over and over again with time, Having strong bloodlust, Is the first step to a life of crime.

I closed the book after that, finding myself getting lost in Joker's words. Slightly entranced by her simple way of wording things. I've noticed on and off patterns with some of Joker's poems. Some will either be long with very descriptive and sophisticated vocabulary. Others are simple and easy to understand that doesn't involve much thinking on the reader's part. And the rest are bittersweet combinations of the two. It seems those three styles are what she prefers. The long and descriptive ones are easy to get lost in. Like she's telling a story. The shorter simple ones are straight to the point, describing feelings or other meanings that I couldn't quite wrap my head around. And mixes of the two are used to describe both feelings and stories. Different events that happened to her that she paints in both positive and negative light. Using different rhymes and wording to describe how she was feeling. Some you could even tell she left untouched for a while before coming back with new inspiration. I didn't know an awful lot about poetry. I was never really interested in that kind of stuff back in Jr. High. But Koro-sensei did have us write poems from time to time as assignments. So I knew a little at least. I was never that fond of it. Nor was I the best at it. But Koro-sensei always said that I came up with something creative and interesting, surprisingly. I didn't believe him at all though. I looked back down at the book in my hands before my eyes widened slightly. "Do I dare look at the clock?" I questioned, closing my eyes. I quickly placed the book back on the coffee table before rushing back upstairs. Right as I reached the top I heard the door being unlocked. I made a dive for the couch and quickly sat down picking up a random book on the table. Joker walked in, my heart pounding as I let my eyes scan over the page. Oh hey, good thing I've already read this book before. I thought with a mental sigh of relief. Joker walked over shooting a look over my shoulder. "Did you move at all since I left?" She questioned. I looked over my shoulder at her. "Oh. Hey Joker. When did you get back?" I questioned. She sighed a little. I just then realized she had taken off her mask and looked exhausted. I put the book down, heart still racing a little. "You alright? You look tired." I said. She grumbled something under her breath before flopping over the couch. "Um..." I trailed off, sweat dropping a little. She sighed a little fully flopping over onto the couch, laying next to me. I just decided it might be best to ignore her. I returned to reading the book, actually remembering that this was a book I enjoyed. Once I had started getting interested in what was happening I felt a slight shift at my side and a new weight on my shoulder. I shot a look over and saw that Joker was now leaning on my shoulder, eyes trained on the pages. Her eyes were focused on the book. Seeming to be oblivious to the fact that she was leaning on me. This made it a little hard for me to focus on the book but I didn't really pay much mind to it. Noting that Joker was probably really tired and really into the story. So I just continued reading. Assuming that Joker had probably finished before me I went ahead and turned the page.

After a while of reading I started to calm down more and more. Not used to reading in the company of someone else but finding it comforting to have another person there. Even if that person was an insane murderer. Okay. There is officially something wrong with my head. I thought. My eyes widened slightly feeling a strong pang of bloodlust. "S*it." I muttered. Joker hummed a little, giving me a look. "Something wrong detective?" She questioned. "Heh. Bloodlust pang." I forced a small laugh. Joker hummed slightly before standing up. She hopped over the couch and my eyes followed her. She kept her back to me as she stood there. "Y'know detective. You're right about one thing. There are other ways of dealing with bloodlust besides just killing people." She said. "Fighting someone, of equal, or greater strength." I muttered. I noticed that she pulled something out of her pocket, wrapped in a familiar red cloth. She tossed it at me. I caught it with ease as the cloth fell away from the object. My knife. I thought. "I never did give that back to you. Could've used it in the Palace the other day, my apologies." Joker said. "Probably a mistake handing me this." I muttered, staring into the red reflection, taking note that the blade and been polished recently. "Mistake? Detective use your head here. Or is it already too clouded by bloodlust?" She questioned. My eyes returned to her as I noticed Joker pull something else out of her pocket. She flicked it open and my eyes were met with a (F/C) switchblade, polished to a gleaming shine. Her dark (E/C) eyes met my bright gold. In her eyes I noticed two things, the classic insane spark that was always there, and now deep bloodlust. I stood up returning my eyes to the red blade in my hand. "So. Is this a challenge?" I questioned, smirk coming to my features as my eyes were shadowed by my bangs. "It's my way of offering help. You said this was preferable to killing someone correct? I'm simply showing compassion for my guest." She explained dismissively. "There you go again with that vocabulary of yours. So sophisticated at times compared to the usual insane babble that I've come to know from you. Of course the same could be said for myself. I do have a tendency to flip back and forth." I mumbled. "Also since when do you show compassion to anyone? Especially to me. I find it odd how relaxed you seem around me. I could brush it off as you just being a heartless overconfident and condescending a*shole. But then again, I really do have a habit of over thinking things." I added. Joker scoffed a little. "Same could be asked of you Detective Akabane. You seem to relax at my presence when you realize it's me. Case and point: this morning. You flinched at first before looking over your shoulder and realizing it was just me. After that you relaxed. Forgive me for being right, but shouldn't you be more on guard after realizing that I'm awake? Sure, I'm basically harmless while asleep. But awake? Shouldn't you be terrified of someone who has committed mass murder in more ways than one?" She questioned. "Hm. I suppose you have a point there. But you're forgetting one thing." I held up my knife slightly, seeing my own bloodlust filled eyes in the reflection. "You aren't the only one in this room who's committed mass murder." I corrected. She chuckled darkly. "Point taken. This is a conversation I never saw myself having with you. Then again detectives with assassination experience aren't exactly the most normal thing in the world....I don't think at least. Say isn't everyone in your agency an ex-assassin?" She questioned. "I'm the only one officially. The others had the same training as me but applied it to everyday work. Me? I'm the only one who used it for what it was meant for." I grumbled, rolling my eyes slightly. "How did this conversation even start? Ah right. We were about to fight. Shall we get back to that?" Joker questioned. "Alright." I muttered. I spun around on a dime catching her switchblade on my knife. "Let's dance." We said in unison.

~Time Skip~

I hissed slightly as Joker cleaned the small cut on my cheek. "Oh hush Mr. I Have Higher Than Average Pain Tolerance So I'll Be Fine." She grumbled coldly. Once she was done she placed a bandage on the cut. "There." She said. "Alright. Let me see your shoulder. I know that cut is deeper than you're letting on." I said with a sigh. "I can take care of my own wounds a*shole." She grumbled. "Oh sure, cause I'm the a*shole out of the two of us." I said rolling my eyes. She growled a little sliding down her uniform a little so I could look at the cut on her shoulder. Yeah we may or may not have gone a little over the top. Looks like I'm not the only one with severely suppressed bloodlust. "Alright, this looks a little bad. Nothing life threatening. But it is worse than any other cuts so far." I said, grabbing the tweezers before snatching a cotton ball and dabbing it in the rubbing alcohol. She eyed it nervously. "S*it." She hissed quietly under her breath. I gave her a look. "Problem?" I questioned. She shook her head avoiding eye contact quickly. Yeah, we had cut eachother up pretty badly and since we couldn't care for some of the cuts ourselves since they were out of our reach we had to help eachother. I started cleaning her wound noticing her hiss in pain once in a while. She looked like she was trying to bite back a couple of shouts by gritting her teeth. I stopped for a second giving her a look. "If it hurts that much don't grit your teeth like that." I said. I reached over for one of the drawers and pulled out a wash rag. I tossed that at her. "Bite down on that so you don't accidentally hurt yourself." I said. "What do you know?" She hissed angrily. But she complied anyways. Note: Joker is fine with the pain of getting cut, but rubbing alcohol makes her snappy. I thought. "Something Mr. K taught us in Jr. High. If we were ever in pain don't grit our teeth and try to hold back screams. Bite down on a cloth or piece of clothing to hold back screams. Or simply don't hold back those screams at all. He really stressed not gritting our teeth though. I never asked why. Guess it's just a habit I picked up." I explained while continuing to clean her wound. She gave me this look and somehow I had an idea of what she was thinking. I chuckled a little. "You're wondering why I'm good at first aid right?" I questioned. Her eyes widened and she nodded before wincing in pain and biting on the wash cloth. "Well I got into a lot of fights back in Jr. High. I'm sure Rio and the others have already told you all this, but I used to be quite the delinquent. But since I didn't have any friends for the longest time I had to take care of my own wounds when I got them. And I have this habit of learning through observation. After I became friends with Nagisa he would be the one to help with my wounds or if I wasn't badly hurt help the other people and their wounds. I learned by watching him. And we had a few classes in Jr. High too." I explained.

Joker nodded a little bit. I pulled the cotton away. "Alright. Now for the bandaging." I said, pulling out the bandages. I stopped a little looking at Joker covered in cuts, feeling a little guilty. She gave me a look before removing the cloth from her mouth. "I know that look. Don't feel guilty. I gave you just as many if not more cuts." She growled. I sighed a little, wrapping up her shoulder. "I know. And you were just trying to help me. I just...can't help but feel guilty at times. Because I can never fully control myself. Stupid bloodlust. I don't know how everyone at the agency can keep a hold on their's. Especially Nagisa. Hell if any of us were to snap I'm surprised he wasn't first. Out of all of us his bloodlust was always the most dangerous." I shivered slightly freezing for a minute. "Gah. Just thinking about it still terrifies me. He may have looked like a girl back then. But d*mn. Back in Jr. High if you weren't scared of me, you sure as hell better be scared of Nagisa. I don't know how he does it though. How does he suppress all that bloodlust? Last I checked he doesn't have any bloodlust outlets." I grumbled. "From the way you describe it, something tells me it's the fact that he was born with it." Joker stated. I gave her a look, finishing the wrapping. "From the way you describe him Nagisa was a natural born assassin. Meaning he was born with bloodlust. Meaning that as he grew older and his bloodlust grew stronger, he was always used to it in everyday life. You're different. Because you worked hard to train your bloodlust. You forced it to get stronger each passing day because of how unfair life was to you. And everyday you got to use that bloodlust. Taking down people in your class, training, etc. It was encouraged to be sharpened every day. But now that you're older, you're stuck in everyday life, and where before you had many outlets for your bloodlust, you don't anymore. Nagisa has been used to his bloodlust in everyday life. It's been with him since he was little. For you, it's different because your bloodlust developed as you grew older. Or simply because of how much bloodlust you had, now overflowing because you no longer have those outlets that you used to." Joker explained. I nodded slightly. "I guess that makes sense." I mumbled. I was slightly entranced by her wording again. "What about you? I don't see you in bloodlust rages often but from the way you were fighting earlier I could tell that your bloodlust is heavily suppressed. For someone who murders many I'd assume you'd have more outlets." I pointed out. I noticed that she started blushing a little. "Ah uh...I guess I do have many outlets it's just....I don't have time to use them." She said. She continued to avoid eye contact taking a breath. "I'm caught in so many meetings and doing paper work. Not only that, but even with my typical breaks in between someone immediately needs something or I have to tend to my own needs to survive. Things like eating and sleeping. I don't have time to properly care for my bloodlust. I guess that's another reason why I'm so insane now. Because of how much I suppress my bloodlust it grows and swirls and feels like it's constantly clouding my thoughts at times. So yeah..." She trailed off, probably trying to think of a better way of explaining it. But I understood what she was trying to say. "So you do have outlets, you're just busy taking care of others and your own basic needs. So you don't have the time to use them." I said. She nodded. She finally made eye contact with me, smirking a little. That insanity was back in her eyes again. "A note for future reference detective. If you really don't want to end up like me avoid suppressing your bloodlust. It only makes it worse. As I'm sure you're slowly realizing." She said. "I think it's a little late for that." I grumbled while sweat dropping. Her smirk grew. "Oh? Are you saying that you've accepted that you're just like me?" She questioned. "Hell no! And quit looking at me like that!" I growled. She snickered a little before standing up and sliding her uniform back up on her now bandaged shoulder. "Welp. I have other things to take care of. Parties to plan. Meetings to organize. Clients to converse with. And of course targets to find. Speaking of don't you have a journal to decipher?" She questioned. I grew silent, avoiding eye contact, my thoughts returning to what I was thinking about this morning. "You look lost in thought again. Something on your mind?" She questioned, the playful insane edge in her voice gone.

I just sighed a little. "It's nothing." I grumbled, putting away the medical stuff. "You sure you don't want to fake your death? I can help with that. Then you don't have to worry about the agency breathing down your neck constantly." She said. I shot her a glare despite the offer becoming more and more tempting. "That's the second time you've said that. Why?" I questioned. She tilted her head to the side, giving me a curious look. "You really haven't figured it out yet?" She questioned. She slowly started walking towards me. I backed up, getting uncomfortable. What is it with this girl and my bubble? She smirked leaning a little closer to me. "Isn't it obvious? I want you to join the Dark Knights." She stated bluntly. I gave her a blank stare. Both confused, and shocked. I tried to form a coherent question, hell multiple of them, but it only came out as 'why'? She shrugged, backing away from me. "That's for me to know, and you to never find out." She stated, walking away. She walked down into the basement and my eyes found the ground. "Join the Dark Knights?" I questioned to myself. "That means...her Organization. Why though?" I asked. My eyes widened slightly, realizing how tempting that offer was to other parts of me. Not only would it give me outlets for my bloodlust, but faking my death and getting the agency off my back would mean even if they found out I killed Terasaka, they wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. And I wouldn't have to worry about them finding out about my latest killing sprees. And...I wouldn't be looked at like a monster anymore. I wouldn't have to deal with the agency anymore. I shook my head violently. "D*mnit." I growled gripping at my own hair. "Why is this all so tempting now? I never would have even considered it before!" That's when it hit me. And when it did I slowly slid down to the ground and hugged my knees to my chest. This was Joker's plan all along wasn't it? I thought sadly. She's been slowly, move after move, trapping me into a position from which I cannot escape from. And slowly but surely she's been breaking me. She's forced me to rely on her. Because now I have to share this house with her. I have nowhere else to go. She's been planting these seeds of doubt in my mind from the beginning. Putting me in these situations. And now I can't get away from her. She's going to drive me insane. That's her end goal. The moment I started living in her home was the moment I became trapped. Because now I can't leave. When did this start? I'm losing. D*mnit, d*mnit, d*mnit! I'm losing to her! I continued pulling at my hair, feeling myself break down. If I join her, she wins. I shake my head at the realization. Making me insane isn't the end goal. That's just something she really wants to do that'll make her job easier. It's me joining her that she wants. That's her end goal. Getting me on her side. Of course! But the revelation wasn't a happy one.

It was then, and only then, did I realize how far into Joker's trap I had fallen. Because not having to worry about the agency wasn't the thing making it the most tempting. It was the prospect of being able to wake up every morning to her weirdness. Of being able to just see her. Joker herself made it the most tempting.