Shark of Spades

Facing the Facts

*back to Misa*

A week passed, which meant that my 22nd birthday was coming up in a month or so. Even if I was free, would I give up my life as Card? Could I give up cards that easily? I wasn't sure, even though it seemed like such an obvious decision.

I sighed and leaned my forehead against the window of the train for a second before pulling back, aware that both Joker and Ace were watching  me and were probably psychoanalyzing all of my actions. Not wanting to give them any extra ammunition, I turned to face them, keeping my eyes coolly indifferent behind my sunglasses and acting as though I wasn't tired, worried, stressed, and overburdened.

As soon as I think about this kind of stuff, I immediately blame myself for being over dramatic, which leads to a complete avoidance of the  problems or just absolute ignoring of them. So according to me, I was "fine." As always.

To  get my mind off of whether or not I was actually feeling stressed or if I was just creating imaginary stress out of pure Placebo, I turned to Joker. "Where are we going?"

He raised his eyebrow. Usually, we held strict to the Separation of Powers  - Joker got the connections, I played the game, and Ace was in charge of keeping up Card's reputation and scanning the news and keeping an ear out for anything dangerous to the image. For me to ask our destination was a rare occasion, and Joker had immediately picked up on it. "Why are you interested?"

I shrugged and looked back at my reflection in my window. As per usual, I was wearing a faded baseball cap, sunglasses, a black shirt, black pants, black socks, black dress shoes, and black gloves. All simply part of the image, but each detail added a little bit. Same went for the negation. I'd never live the memory down if I wore a watch or a pocket watch. It just didn't fit. People expected a polished, professional, but also simplistic look, so that's what we delivered.

To avoid further suspicion from Joker, I kept quiet for the rest of the trip, occupied by my contradictory thoughts that went back and forth  incessantly, never reaching a final decision, and leaving me exhausted by the time Joker stood up. Ace followed suit and reached out a hand, which I accepted, and I let him gently pull me down the aisle and off  the train, briefcase in tow. Only when I was standing on the platform did I notice where we were.

Without wasting a moment, I swung my precious briefcase, clocking Ace in the head, and, breaking his hold on my hand, proceeded to bolt out of the  station and a few blocks away before hailing a taxi and driving around aimlessly as I sunk low in the backseat.

***

*from Jack's POV*

"She  must be really upset with us for bringing her here," he said, rubbing the side of his head with the hand that had not been holding hers before  staring at the other one as though not sure what to do with it.  Continuing slowly, he said, "For her to actually make a public scene like that, as though she were so desperate to escape..." He sighed  painfully. "Are we really awful for dragging her here?"

I shrugged, my eyes lingering on the door through which she had exited a mere minute before. "She'll get over it soon. Give her a few hours."

"She could be in a different country in a few hours."

Although he had a point, both of us knew it was a lie. She couldn't run the risk of going to the authorities to get a passport, and securing illegal  transportation was just as difficult. So while she'd definitely be in the country, I didn't doubt that she had the ability to disappear without a trace. But that was our skill, finding each other. Just as a  feigned death didn't stop Ace, one trip down memory lane wouldn't hold back Card. To reassure him, I replied, "Don't worry. She's still in town. I'll find her before evening falls."

He nodded, and I slowly walked away from him and towards the exit.

***

*back to Misa*

By the time Joker got to the motel, I was already pouring myself my second drink. To clarify, I typically refrain from consuming alcohol simply  because my life, if lived so carelessly, could be extinguished in the passing of a single moment. That said, despite not drinking often, I  have a high tolerance and can hold down my liquor really quite well. So when he walked in, no, I was not an emotional wreck, nor was I loose and  carefree. I was my normal, serious, focused self, one hand inside my coat and resting on my gun in case Joker said something I didn't want to  hear. Knowing him, that would be all he said.

Surprisingly (although I didn't reveal such a reaction), he just sat down and poured himself a glass before saying, "You've got to deal with this sooner or  later." As though he sensed my vacillation, he pressed harder. "We all have stuff in our pasts that we'd rather forget, and that's fine. Nobody is going to pry into that because it's not their problem. However, it is our problem when you're having nightmares about it. If you can't deal with an incident that happened years ago, how can we trust you to hold to  your job as Card? You're not allowed to be weak, especially not now. So hurry up and get this over with so we can continue." With that, he stood  up, putting his glass down with a satisfying thunk and left.

How to deal with the parents that don't even recognize your face? Well, avoidance had been my policy for years. I could kill them both in their sleep, I immediately thought next, and testament to my lack of conscience, I only shrugged internally. Joker wouldn't be pleased. He'd claim that it wasn't a proper solution, that without closure, I was just avoiding another issue.

I sighed. What to do?

I don't have much time left.