Chapter Text
“Justin look at me.”
It was like an ice pick through his brain, a disembodied voice that haunted Justin’s day and night, everytime the madness slipped, every time he had a second that might’ve been mistaken for tranquility… The words Giriko had spoken so firmly into his forehead whenever it became too much, whenever he began to really see the world crack around him and reveal the true madness in his mind. The words that could always manage to make him remember where he was and that everything was ok.
Justin never really knew how Giriko learned to pull people back from the brink of madness so well, if he ever had experience with that very thing. It didn’t matter if he did or didn’t though. All that mattered was that his hands always felt so warm holding Justin’s face still, forcing them to look at each other so there’d be no missing anything. For someone so universally agreed on as evil and irredeemable… Giriko could really be amazingly gentle. His bloodlust truly unhinged but not completely uncontrollable, not so all consuming that he couldn’t have those moments of care towards those he decided were allies.
Justin had always found a confusing part of him that wanted to get even closer to Giriko in those moments. He was more aware of his lips, of Giriko’s… of their shared body heat in the tension. It was a new feeling to Justin, he had never met anyone like Giriko before, like him before. Someone else that had those burning wounds that came so directly from the academy, someone else who had that madness thudding under their skin but not in a hunger for souls as much as it was a hunger for freedom .
Giriko was Justin’s first window into the world that wasn’t completely under the academy’s rule. Into the people who very much existed in the ‘madness’ who weren’t brainless monsters but whose morals didn’t line up with the academy’s cutthroat requirements. Justin didn’t know that could exist until he met the man, he had always felt as if he was teetering on the edge of a razor, and that if he fell things would be over and his brain would just turn into deranged mush that he had no control over.
That wasn’t how it worked. Justin knew that now. When he fell, when the clown ripped off his wings and pulled him all the way down down from Death Scythe to traitor, things didn’t become all that different in his mind, at least not in the ways he had expected. It wasn’t chaos surrounding him now, and that made it scarier. In chaos things would go so fast that he would stop thinking, he would be free from this existence and truly transcend into something that wouldn’t have any worries and could truly just enjoy the madness for what it was.
When Justin first found himself juggling, stumbling with all these sudden violent thoughts towards his coworkers, his supposed friends, he knew what was happening. Of course he did, they were all on the lookout for these wavelengths, for people falling ill with its effects. He’d be up for nights on end staring at the ceiling, far too exhausted to stop the wandering thoughts of how he could crash an axe through Stein’s head and get away with it. How he’d get in and out without being noticed, sure not to punch in and to keep the weapon downstairs in his ‘office’ that everyone above a certain level knew was just a torture room.
The thoughts were completely uncontrollable, there was nothing he could do about them and it wore down him day after day to try and beat them down, to shame himself every second of everyday for something he could never seem to stop. Part of him knew he had to say something, that no one would notice if he didn’t say something because he just wasn’t the type to be bothered like this, even now he wasn’t out of control, there was no way they’d ever notice unless he was literally dying in front of them…
But if he said something…? What would they do? Justin wasn’t like Stein, he worked alone, he didn’t have any possibility for some kind of weird chaperone like Marie who could also just transform back into a human before he hurt anyone. The possibilities made Justin’s head spin. He could barely handle how much he hated himself for these thoughts, how would he handle literally everyone else in the academy hating him too? What if they treated him like a prisoner? Not even trusting him if he wasn’t locked up? What if they never looked at him the same way? What if they just decided to cut out the risk entirely and just killed him?
There were too many risks, too much to lose… it wasn’t that bad yet, that was what he told himself again and again and again. Millions of little moments, little wars. Thoughts he was certain he’d never do … but then eventually it became a question. Because, wait, what would be the harm in it? Why couldn’t he stab all the doors in his apartment? No one lived with him and it wasn’t like doors felt pain. Why couldn’t he rip up his carpet and hide under it from Asura’s staring eyes peering through the window? Why couldn’t he sleep in closets and throw his phone out the window to make absolutely sure no one could hear him talk to himself? To make sure he wouldn’t cave and make a panic call for help that would just lead to his imprisonment? None of that actually hurt anyone. Why couldn’t he do it?
Those were the excuses he made all the way up until he felt the warm blood splash against his face, a moment where he was breathing so heavily he didn’t even know if he was actually getting any air. It was imprinted in his mind, the glimmer of his blade out of the corner of his eye, the shape of the blood puddle, the look of grim acceptance on BJ’s frozen face… and most horrifyingly of all the satisfaction he felt.
That last part didn’t last too long though, as Justin tripped over his own feet, to get out before someone noticed he was ever there. The amount of nights he was forced to think endlessly about these things left him with far too good of a plan and he managed to vanish without a single suspicion, not until the time he was missing started to stretch into months of course but by then he was long gone. He had been off with Giriko and Noah, being followed endlessly by a clown that had taken a permanent seat in his life around then and seemed unwilling to leave no matter what Justin threw at it for it's completely unwarranted comments and bad encouragement.
The clown was of course still here despite Justin’s vocal distaste for it, sitting quietly on the floor of Justin’s hideout just taking up space. It wasn’t until Justin and Giriko had been together for awhile that he finally learned what the clown was and why he couldn’t get rid of it. Giriko had never questioned it before, never brought it up and Justin was so used to it’s constant presence that they just sort of let it loiter around no matter what they were doing. It wasn’t until one day Justin finally brought it up with a tired voice that he got an answer.
“Can you see it too?” Justin honestly wasn’t sure if he was a hallucination or not, it never left him alone and no one really paid much attention to it so really, at the point they were at, Justin had decided it most certainly was entirely in head. He had really only asked to make sure, to confirm things. Giriko’s arm had been slung around Noah’s shitty couch and Justin’s shoulder, he was a bit drunker than usual but still perfectly coherent, he took a minute to respond, looking down at Justin like he was crazy. Something incredibly normal for them unfortunately. Giriko wasn’t known for his tact.
“Can I see what?” Justin almost didn’t respond, he was going to take that as answer enough, if Giriko didn’t know that he was talking about the towering clown then it was probably because he couldn’t see it. That was how it made sense in Justin’s mind at least. Luckily for whatever reason Giriko was more interested than usual about what Justin meant and prodded for more, curious to hear about what Justin was seeing.
“The clown, what else would I be talking about?” Giriko blinked, taking a minute for his drunk mind to really understand what Justin said, and then looked right into the clown’s eyes. He could definitely see it, he knew exactly where to look and didn’t hesitate even a bit, there was recognition in his eyes… it made Justin’s blood turn cold. This entire time he had been certain that the clown was fake, he had been coping with it by telling himself it was fake…
“Yeah of course I can. Did you really think you were imagining something that big?” Justin had been sweating the slightest bit, tongue tied and trying to come to terms to the fact it was real and listening to them right then. Giriko was surprisingly patient, somewhat understanding the horror this had to be causing Justin… and probably just mostly because he was drunk and tired.
“Why didn’t you say anything until now if you could see it? Surely you’re the type that would expect privacy. It watches us sleep, doesn’t that bother you?” Giriko took a moment to lean back, to really think about that and what Justin thought was to think about if it really bothered him that much. That wasn’t what it turned out to be, it turned out Giriko was thinking about something far far more serious.
“...Do you know what those things are Justin?” When Justin hesitantly shook his head and admitted that he had no clue what had been following him around for almost a year now, Giriko sighed so loud it made a little breeze that ruffled Justin’s hair.
“God, I keep forgetting how much of a baby you are. You’re way too young to be in this war, I don’t know what the fuck the academy was ever thinking.” As annoying as it was to listen to Giriko go on one of his old man rants about how unbelievably young Justin was or whatever, Justin let it slide. He was far too interested in getting an answer to do anything that might devolve this into petty bickering. Giriko went on for a while before Justin finally coughed and thankfully managed to get the man back on track.
“Those things are made out of madness, created by people who want to spread it to others who might normally not be affected, or as affected at least.” Justin found himself staring at the floor with that, trying to chew that information, that all of this could’ve never happened to him if it weren’t for someone who wanted to see the world devolve into chaos more and more. If there was some magic way to change the past to stop this clown from being made, would Justin have wanted to leave the academy anyway? He wasn’t sure…
There was an unbelievable comfort in being a part of something so big, in being able to hide within a group that all had the same core values and would more or less support each other as long as the problems stayed in the realm of ‘normal’. Weaving his fingers together Justin leaned the tiniest bit more into Giriko, into someone who had understood him more than anyone else had in his entire goddamn life. This chaos, this madness was the only reason Justin had even realized that he wasn’t actually happy, that he had never truly felt like a person until now. Would he have ever figured that out without all of this or would he have spent his whole life just doing his job mindlessly?
“They don’t have souls, and I sure as hell don’t know how to kill them. You’re more likely to walk straight into the academy, kill three people and flash your ass and still make it out alive then get rid of that thing.” Other than wrinkling his nose at Giriko’s crude ‘alternative’ Justin didn’t react much to that, he had long realized there was no getting rid of it so he wasn’t all that surprised to hear Giriko reaffirm it.
“Anyway you're so scarily good at ignoring it that it's easy to just pretend it's furniture or something. Right Clown? You don’t even talk over there unless you have something shitty to say!” Justin could tell that Giriko was trying to reassure him and make it a little bit better, but it didn’t really work all that much. Despite the fact that a few times Justin found himself wondering if Giriko was only interested in him for the sex, they didn’t that night, they went to bed quietly, the clown following as always. Justin never fell asleep though. His eyes didn’t leave the clown’s, the few times Giriko noticed and tried to tuck Justin under his arm for some sense of protection just got slapped away.
He didn’t understand how Giriko wasn’t worried, but after a few nights he found himself accepting it again. It was weirdly docile, especially around them. It was really almost like their pet, a really deranged one that was consistently adding to Justin’s insanity and would sporadically give Justin ‘commands’ and ‘guidance’ that were hard not to listen to, but usually stayed out of their way and conversations. Those days, even with it's horrific presence, were the happiest days of Justin’s life…
But now Giriko was gone.
800 years wouldn’t just be abandoned after a death the old man probably hadn’t even fully processed yet and some stranger’s childhood crush. Justin didn’t expect Giriko to give up his bloodlust for vengeance for him anyway, he knew that in absolutely no universe would anything break Giriko’s literally undying loyalty to Arachne. That didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt though, that didn’t mean that Justin would just stop hearing Giriko’s hot smoky voice brush against the shell of his ear at night.
“Justin look at me.”
Their missions had converged for a moment, a second of unity while Giriko tried to figure out how he so suddenly had been left in the dirt by everyone else in Arachnophobia and it was just over. For a second, the tiniest bit of time, Justin thought maybe Giriko had accepted it, was coming to terms with it. He never did. It wasn’t surprising at all, Justin hated how unsurprising it was. Maybe, for the briefest second Justin had actually believed that this would last, even if only a bit longer than it had. Of course that only helped disappointing him.
Justin convinced himself it was at least fun, a good memory to hold, but the voice never left him alone.
“Justin look at me.”
It came at the worst times, right before he did something terrible or destructive. Perhaps it was the last bits of his sanity clinging on, reminding him he was capable of love and being loved, that he didn’t have to do this for the clown’s praise that he now subsisted on. But was that ever truly love? Was Giriko capable of loving anyone but his precious Lady Arachne? Was Justin capable of loving anyone but some abstract god that would give him some feeling of purpose?
Justin wasn’t sure who he was anymore, he was becoming an adult in a blur of madness, mixing the developing maturity and insanity. So much was changing so fast, when he split off from Noah he found himself truly alone for the first time ever- the clown hardly counted as a person after all. There was no kind of guidance anywhere, everything was entirely up to him, everything. It was a type of power Justin wasn’t really sure how to handle, it was a type of power he wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted.
For better or for worse, it was honestly underwhelming. He missed asking Giriko for advice and seeing if the man would tell him to ‘figure it out himself’ or if he’d offer something that Justin could immediately shoot down with a soft laugh and a question if he was serious with suggestions like that. Instead he now just had to deal with the clown seemingly reading his mind and giving unwarranted advice with every turn, much more willing to speak up when they were alone.
The clown had a grating voice that worked at Justin’s nerves like a file, slowly but surely making him lose it. It talked constantly when they were alone, but not in a monologue, it was in questions. Millions of questions like a therapist asking ‘how do you feel about that’ over and over and guiding him in a certain direction with lots of little encouragements and disapprovals. Justin could feel it messing with his brain, but he also had no power in getting it to shut up.
After a while he got attached to it's presence though, the idea of having something that would so clearly never leave him no matter what. When Tezca started following him, set on being that person for Justin in it’s place… it could only make Justin scowl, unable to find any kind of humor in this situation.
Tezca only wanted him under the condition he was normal, he kept trying to convince Justin to ‘just go back and admit his guilt’ as if that was some sort of undo button for this infectious madness. He seemed more like a man in denial that his crush wasn’t someone he actually wanted than someone showing their undying unbreakable love like he clearly thought he was.
The best part of the man’s reappearance though was that it brought up dreams of that possibly happening with Giriko, of the enchanter getting his revenge and coming back once again just interested in his original goal of defying the academy. How wonderful would it be to feel Giriko’s lips on his once again, to be soothed asleep by whispering in his ears that was rude and crass but undeniably loving sweet nothings under it all. To have actual food because Giriko somehow knew how to cook, to have those rare moments where he actually believed for a second he was truly loved for who he was.
Part of him was tempted to tell Tezca he’d go back with him if he could find Giriko for him. There was a possibility Tezca would actually do it, he was very set on negotiating this despite the fact Justin was showing no interest. Of course it’d be a lie, but Tezca was an adult, he could handle a bit of heartbreak. Maybe if Justin was feeling generous he’d give the man a kiss in thanks, it would most certainly please Tezca for at least a day or two.
Even if it wasn’t a lie anyway and Justin did decide to come back and everything went perfect to Tezca’s far fetched plan, what would Tezca do about the clown? He couldn’t get rid of it and he most certainly wouldn’t accept it like Giriko did. Anyway you sliced it Tezca was chasing after the impossible, blaming Justin every step of the way for not just agreeing because he couldn’t seem to actually think about the chances of things working out. Of course he wasn’t thinking about it, it wasn’t his head on the chopping block.
When it came to their last confrontation though, the one where Justin finally got fed up with these guilt trips and really tried to scare Tezca away for good… the man snapped. He proved that even his self declared ‘true love’ was as conditional as it got. Once he was firmly and truly rejected, once he realized there was no acceptance of his feelings, Tezca tried to kill him, apparently set on letting no one have Justin, not even Justin himself, if he couldn’t. The betrayal was icy hot, it made Justin’s body burn as hot as the new flames that licked at his cheek.
Justin knew the entire time that Tezca only wanted him as whatever image he had originally had in his mind, but it still stung to be so drastically shown how true that was. He met that attempt on his life back with a sharp execution, certain Tezca would keep trying if he wasn’t stopped. There was some sort of dull ache that came with it, but also a moment where he could truly breathe for a second, finally free from expectations.
He walked over hesitantly to the fallen mask on the floor to what should certainly be Tezca’s head. Sure enough when he checked, he saw the same face he had seen when he was young, before Tezca had gotten his bear head. However, as he stared at it more and more it seemed to morph into his own head, Tezca’s mirror form or perhaps his madness playing one last cruel joke. Snorting a horrible laugh Justin threw the head out of Tezca’s mask onto the dirty ground and spun the mask in his hands, trying to decide if he wanted to keep it or not. Justin still wasn’t really a fan of Tezca and his obsessive personality, but he was at least someone who took interest in Justin, who gave praise and attention… those people were few and far between.
Justin ended up taking the mask home, storing it atop one of his shabby apartment’s built in shelves. He hadn’t eaten Tezca’s soul, so he wondered if it was possible that Tezca was looking down on him now, if somewhere in his twisted mind that somehow was considered normal by the academy, he was excited by the fact Justin kept his mask. That thought sent a shiver down Justin’s spine, it made him consider throwing the thing out a few times, but he could never get himself to actually do it.
There were a few times he felt lonely enough, isolated and haunted so painfully by the madness that he relented to cuddling with Tezca’s mask. Part of him wished that things had been different and that he had loved Tezca back, that they could’ve been happy together… but that had been impossible.
Although maybe, maybe if this Asura madness hadn’t happened in their lifetime it would’ve happened anyway, maybe Justin would’ve married Tezca, maybe he would’ve had a life that was completely normal. He could’ve just held off, dealt with the pain of the academy’s hatred for people like him a bit longer until he had gotten to retire with the man when the next scythes came and took their places…
But Justin didn’t want that. Even now he didn’t want that life in exchange for this one, as painful, as agonizing as this one was he couldn’t forget the feeling of being encased in Giriko’s arms. A life where that never happened, where he had never had that bliss and feeling of completeness felt like sin.
The scar never stopped burning either, making it impossible to forgive Tezca and actually dream of that life. There were a few times Justin found himself leaning over the toilet bowl vomiting that even though Tezca found that he couldn’t have Justin, he had found a way to forever leave his mark on him. To make sure Justin would never ever forget him, not even for a second. He had made Justin ugly, making so that even if Giriko came back there was a chance the man would leave again now that he was scarred.
Worse, Justin couldn’t even cry about it without his tears turning to steam, Tezca had really taken an entire emotion from Justin with him. His sorrow began to disappear more and more, becoming replaced with an apathy that would never cause those painful tears.
By that point Justin’s mind was mostly gone, he was having issues remembering what he was thinking and everyone and everything stopped mattering, everyone but the clown.
The clown never left and continued to talk to him about anything he wanted. The nights Justin couldn’t sleep, which were becoming more and more frequent, the clown wouldn’t sleep either, if it even slept in the first place. They’d talk all night like girls at a sleepover, Justin staring at the ceiling, amazed that the clown was so tall that even when looking straight up Justin could see it's head looming in his field of vision.
The clown never judged, of course it didn’t, it's ideas were always a million times worse than Justin’s could ever be. Giriko had been right, it really was true madness, but there was nothing else in this world that would be friends with someone like Justin. When it told him it was time to head to the moon, that Justin had become ‘worthy’ he didn’t argue with it at all. Not even when he was told it was going to be his final stop, that they’d die together there.
“What are friends for if not dying with each other? Especially for something so righteous as furthering Asura’s mission.” Justin hummed, not even really thinking too hard about whatever the Clown was saying, flipping through the tattered book he had found in the sewers that was missing most of it's pages. It didn’t make much sense with half it's pages missing, but normal books didn’t make much sense to Justin anymore either, so it didn’t bother him. He responded after a second, not even looking up from his book.
“Can we be buried together?” The clown picked the book up and out of Justin’s hands and threw it to the side, forcing him to look up into its eyes. The sudden violent movement should’ve caused some sort of tension, but they were far too close for any type of tension to form anymore. They were almost the same person now, and how could you really argue with yourself?
“Of course, we’ll always be together Justin, no matter what.” Smiling thinly Justin rested on one of his hands and closed his eyes with a soft hum, thinking about that and how nice it could be. There was little to no chance that they’d get a coffin like Justin’s faith commanded in burials, but in dreams he could imagine anything he wanted. The clown was far too big to fit in a normal coffin though, he’d have to chop him up and put him in pieces all around Justin so they could fit together, wouldn’t they?
“Mmm that’ll make me happy. You said there are others like you, will I get to meet them?” Justin had only heard the clown mention once or twice that there were others, where he had come from and what they were doing. It was always vague, never really much information about it given. Justin wondered if it was because it didn’t have much information to give or if it was hiding something… but they didn’t hide anything from each other, did they?
“Yes, they’re all up there, they’re ready for the war to truly begin.” He wondered what the other clowns would be like, if there would be others like him with the clowns… Honestly speaking, Justin hoped there weren’t any. He was done with people, they were far too unpredictable, far too self important and selfish. He didn’t like them, he never did. Standing up to pick up his book again Justin froze when the clown placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and spoke up against his ear.
“You belong in moonlight Justin.” Suddenly he was back at Noah’s hideout, blurry memories all around him of Giriko’s broken down bed, of bare skin and warm hands. Of hateful comments and snarky laughter, of a sudden pause. Things slowed down and Giriko gave a pitiful smile that had looked so foriegn on his face that all of Justin’s humor for the situation flooded out and he sat up to see what was wrong. The enchanter had only laughed sadly and brushed his big hand down the side of Justin’s face comfortingly.
“You belong in moonlight Justin.” Had the clown heard that back then? Had he even said that just now or was Justin imagining it? He couldn’t tell anymore… He had thought he had finally stopped hearing Giriko’s voice, that he had finally gotten over it and could move on with his life not burdened by some pointless heartbreak. Blinking a few times with what could possibly be a threat of tears he felt the clown wrap his hand around Justin’s own and start to tug, making it clear they were to go now , before anything could get in their way.
They left that night, not bringing anything because there was nothing they’d need in death. They went up to the moon with an amazing jump Justin didn’t know the clown was capable of. There was really so much it could do that Justin didn’t know, even at this point he didn’t really understand what it was, what was next to him all day and night. The other clowns didn’t make it any more apparent, and they weren’t nearly as friendly as Justin’s. They were all more than just bloodthirsty, not thinking of anything but spreading their madness… they were excited to fight, to get lost in the chaos of battle.
If Justin had any hesitations, he never even had a second to process them before he was being clapped on the back by a clown and it's deranged smile. They were welcoming at the very least, trusting him to help… or perhaps just entirely unthreatened. The power they were emanating was suffocating even for someone like Justin. Even here… Justin still didn’t really feel like he belonged. This was what he dreamed of, a place where his madness wouldn’t get in the way and he could just be who he was… but it still felt empty.
Was there really nowhere in this world he belonged? Not anywhere at all? If it wasn’t here where was it? His hand curled desperately into itself, wanting to grab onto something, anything. He wanted to be somewhere he was loved, he wanted to be somewhere that felt like home. Was it in death? Would death be where he finally felt complete? Justin wasn’t sure but since it was already coming… there was a real sense of hope. He was getting closer, he had to be.
The clown came over to lean on the wall besides him, listening to Justin hum quietly.
“You should sleep Justin, you need energy for tomorrow.” It was soft, not as forceful as usual but still filled with a firm encouragement that made Justin’s stomach twist. He kicked at the floor for a second, trying to decide what he wanted to do here. He was tired, he was exhausted actually… but he also was electrified by all of these thoughts. Trapped inside a worn down body that was stumbling to keep up. Once he was dead that wouldn’t be a problem anymore though, the pain would stop. So what was a few more hours of it?
“I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life awake, I want to see it all.” The clown sighed heavily, not amused with Justin’s rejection of his advice. After a bit of quiet discussion and a reminder of the fact dreams exist, the clown was able to convince him to sleep. None of the clowns slept though so they had to make a makeshift bed for Justin on the floor. Random costumes and cloaks they had lying around were made into a pile and Justin hesitantly climbed into it.
He didn’t feel safe here, there was no reason the clowns had to hurt him, but he was still scared to fall asleep. The flames of his face were so bright that they kept him up too, there was no way to actually rest like this, or at least there shouldn’t have been. Somehow he found himself drift off anyway, the clown sitting heavily beside him like always, keeping guard like a fearsome teddy bear.
Justin wasn’t sure if he ever woke back up.
When his aching eyes cracked back open to a blurry world he swore he saw Giriko. He was seeing Giriko… Justin was certain it was because he was dead, that this was his brain remembering the best moments of his life in a final show before the curtain fell… and he honestly didn’t care if that was the case. Giriko was in front of him, fake or not, the man was here, looking down at him with true concern. Justin’s body was so cold but he could somehow feel warm arms around him, or maybe that was just the heat of his dying body.
There was screaming, something jostled him to the side and made him groan, the last noise he’d ever make. And then… lips over his forehead.
“Justin look at me.”