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Lady Silence

Summary:

Frost’s younger sister came to live with him 6 months ago; one could say Y/N is a bit of an oddball because she doesn’t talk and she doesn’t like to be touched. The Joker allowed her to help the crew from time to time without knowing that the only reason for the woman’s presence amidst them was actually him.

Notes:

You can also follow me on Tumblr and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

Chapter Text

You could say you were lucky enough when your brother almost ruined everything with his carelessness; he didn’t do it on purpose, but it could have had very unpleasant consequences at that point.

You were working at one of The Joker’s warehouses when Frost noticed Richard behind you: Y/N was busy sorting out ammunition from a shipment received the previous evening and perfectly aware of his presence, still she decided not to react.

Jonny took Richard’s gesture as insolence when in fact the guy was debating if he should tap your arm or not; after calling your name and being ignored, he was kind of out of options.

Your brother charged towards the clueless henchman and dragged him away from you, slamming his body against the nearest wall.

“Nobody makes fun of my sister, do you understand?!” the usually calm Frost lost his composure.

Richard was completely taken by surprise and immediately apologized for a mistake he didn’t have a chance to commit:

“I wasn’t making fun of Y/N, I swear!”

“Were you trying to mock her?” Jonny got in his face, panting with indignation. “She doesn’t like to be touched and all of you jerks know it!”

“I wasn’t, I really wasn’t!” Richard defended his actions because it was rare to see Frost in such a state and dangerous to mess with him once aggravated. The goon’s hands went up in surrender since he didn’t want any trouble. “I wasn’t mocking her, ok?”

The Joker saw the altercation from across the storage room and yelled:

“Frost, chill!” and Jonny muttered thru his clenched teeth, wishing for nothing more than to break Richard’s neck:

“Do you know who my sister is?!”

“I said chill!!” J repeated and your sibling didn’t have to look your way to realize you were unhappy with his comment. He wasn’t thinking straight and blurred out a sentence that wasn’t meant for anybody’s ears. At least not yet.

Thankfully, The Joker was too far to hear the dialogue and Richard too preoccupied with his own safety in order to analyze words said in anger by an outraged brother.

“Hey Silence, are you done there?” The King of Gotham shouted because help was needed outside to unload the trucks; he often liked to use the nickname since you didn’t talk.

You nodded a yes and stepped away from the finished chore, ready to take on the new task.

“What’s going on?” J growled as you passed by him, already in a very bad disposition. Three days earlier he dislocated his left shoulder and had to keep the whole arm in a sling; it was bothersome and certainly didn’t improve the mood.

You innocently blinked, pretending to be oblivious to the question.

“Move it faster!” he lost his patience with the quiet woman, opening the heavy metal door so she can get out. Straining himself with the injured arm wasn’t the best idea and the stiff muscles became even tighter. “Shit…” The Joker took a deep breath, the paralyzing ache making him see dark spots.

“Sir, are you alright?” someone close by asked.

“Boss, you OK?” another henchman inquired.

“Mind your own business!!” J barked and dragged his feet towards the office he frequently used as a bedroom too.

You discretely signaled Frost and you both followed The Clown Prince of Crime in his quarters; he was lying in bed and moaned in pain when he had to lift his head up to see who dared bothering him.

“What do you want?” he sneered at Jonny and his sister.

“Mister Joker, if you’re uncomfortable Y/N could make you feel better,” your older brother explained and The Joker sarcastically smirked:

“How? Is she a doctor?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because I don’t need a doctor! Get the hell out and let me rest! Make yourselves useful and aid with unloading the cargo!” he raised his voice and you approached the bed anyway. “Are you deaf, Silence?! Beat it!” The Joker pointed his finger towards the exit, aggravated you were still there. He was starting to sweat from the soreness and you knew that being feverish was an indication of things worsening for him in the next minutes.

Your sibling got out of the room first and you were preparing to do the same when J’s physical discomfort made him mumble:

“So what is it you can do to make me feel better, hm?”

You closed the door and signaled the left arm should be out of the sling. The Joker rolled his eyes and made an effort to indulge your instructions, then scoffed when he figured out the shirt had to go also.

“Do I have to be totally naked?”

You nodded a no and ignored the sassiness, gesturing for the crabby employer to roll on his abdomen.

Once J did what you required, he sensed your hands gently massaging his shoulder blade. “Lemme get this straight, Silence: you don’t like to be touched; how come you’re touching me?”

No sounds came out of the woman that was patiently searching for a certain pressure point under his skin in order to alleviate the throbbing ache.

“Did I answer my own dilemma?” The Joker frowned.

He sure did: you touching him was different than him touching you.

“Stuck up like your brother!” he admonished, pissed Y/N was calm and didn’t seem to care about his bickering. Suddenly, The Joker felt such a sharp pain in his shoulder he thought you stabbed him. He wanted to move but couldn’t: he was completely numb, courtesy of Y/N manipulating the pressure point she found. Before J could complain some more, your thumb unlocked the pinched nerves and his erratic breathing intensified before gradually returning to normal.

The tense muscles finally relaxed, your fingers giving the body necessary relief.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he groaned, actually enjoying the soft back rub.

Of course there was no acknowledgement from your part and he buried his face in the pillows, not understanding why he was so drained. You faintly pinched the skin on The Joker’s neck and his eyelids closed; by the time you got the third pressure point he was already asleep, yet you used it to make sure he will be out until morning time.

Frost was waiting for you in front of the room, impatiently biting on his lip.

“Did you see the birthmark on his hip?” your sibling whispered.

“Yes,” you confirmed in a low tone.

“Is it him?”

“It’s him,” you reassured and walked alongside Jonny.

“Are you 100% sure?”

“U-hum,” his sister underlined before taking a separate hallway that led outside to the south part of the warehouse while your brother paced in the opposite direction.

Once in the woods, you carefully listened to the noises: you knew they were there. Y/N walked into the darkness and the wind carried over hushed words:

“Mistress, do you need anything?”

One of your men emerged from the shadows and bowed, his black attire making him almost invisible in the murkiness.

“Master Shiro sends his love,” he clearly enunciated and you widely smiled because a confirmation wasn’t necessary anyway.

“Next week… at the club,” you gave out the information and the man was quick to pull out his sword when one of The Joker’s henchmen patrolling the perimeter yelled:

“Who’s there?”

40 more swords came out of sheaths in the same time but Y/N raised her hand and they all went down obeying her command.

The woman emerged from behind the trees, revealing herself to a goon freaking out for nothing.

“Jesus Y/N, you scared the crap out of me! I thought it was a wild animal or something!”

You just passed by him and headed back inside, pleased that half a year of infiltrating The Joker’s gang and numerous years of research were lastly bearing a fruitful outcome.

************

One week later

The music at the club was deafening and Antoine Mercier was enjoying the strip show; the French smuggler had no business being there after the negotiations ended, yet The King of Gotham allowed him to stay nevertheless.

“Oh my God Mister Joker, where do you find these girls?!” Antoine got J’s attention, lustfully staring at the twins leaving the stage in a hurry. The song changed and he anticipated the next vixen gracing the runway with her presence.

The Joker was bored and quite irritated with the guest that asked the same dumb question every time he liked a stripper.

“Oohhhh!” the smuggler grinned when a girl wearing a short kimono style robe appeared on the stage, seductively walking her way up towards the two guys present in the Red Room. The Joker was texting on his phone and didn’t pay attention, too busy setting up another meeting for the next day; it could have easily made him about 2 million dollars richer.

The woman hopped off the stage and Antoine tried to pull her in his embrace but she dodged his touch.

“Come’ere sweetheart, I want a lap dance!” he reached for the cute mask covering the girl’s face; she eluded him again. “I love being teased,” he winked and scratched his crotch, ogling the mysterious creature in front of him. She bent over and the smuggler couldn’t take it anymore: he tried to get up while she pushed him back on the chair, allowing him to untie her robe. A second later she slapped his hand away and her attention switched towards the green haired man.

“Not now, sugar!” J snarled when her legs popped under his nose. The girl took something out of her pocket and he still didn’t look up from his cell. “I said…NOT.NOW!”

She held the piece of plastic in front of his eyes and he couldn’t avoid glancing at it: an FBI legitimation with Antoine’s picture, the name “Frank Johnson - Special Forces Unit” printed right under.

The Joker sucked on his teeth and placed the phone on the table near him. He yanked the ID out of the dancer’s hand, his bad shoulder acting up since he didn’t keep it in a sling anymore. The woman went back to Antoine, distracting him for a few moments.

The undercover agent had no clue about the item and was wondering about it when the girl unexpectedly straddled his lap. She started grinding against him and he lost concentration, his mouth sliding down towards her lacy bra.

“How much for a night, honey?” Antoine groped her and immediately sensed his throat being pierced by something sharp. He struggled to throw the girl on the floor without success; the knife went out and back in his flesh again, both her hands twisting his neck to the left with such ferocity it snapped.

Everything happened so fast J barely saw the short blade she took out of her messy bun; he jumped off his seat and she got up also, the limp corpse collapsing to the ground with a muffled thud.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The woman didn’t seem startled by the loaded gun pointed at her and she slowly took off her mask.

The Joker forcefully exhaled, barely containing his surprise and managed to utter:

“What’s the meaning of this, Silence?”

The silky robe glided off your frame, exposing Y/N to a confused Clown Prince of Crime. You span on your high heels and the sight of the tattoo covering your whole back made him gasp: two dragons with intertwined tails, surrounded by cherry blossoms. The ink was a work of art and also the mark of the highest rank in the Ozunu clan: the Japanese mafia owned more than half of the major cities in the country and The Joker stayed away from them. Not because he didn’t want to do business with them but because they’ve never given him a sign they would be interested in a partnership so he gave up.

And now they were at his doorsteps.

You heard the beads moving and you knew J was gone without looking.

“Sir!” the henchmen waiting outside the Red Room gathered around their boss, thinking he has important instructions. Instead he rushed by them, fuming at the thought that the man in charge of his security took him for a full: Jonny Frost was The Joker’s target and he intended to get some answers before blowing his brains out.

Y/N stayed behind in the Red Room for a few moments and soon after another woman joined; she grabbed the robe from the floor and placed it around your shoulders. You tilted your head as a thank you and she asked:

“Mistress, are we following?”

You nodded a yes and she continued:

“Are you going to change in the van? Master Shiro is already there; we can take the shortcut.”

You agreed and couldn’t deny the feeling building up in your heart: it wasn’t anxiety or distress, more like relief after almost losing hope that you’ll ever find him again.

************

The Joker kicked the door opened, mad beyond control; he was so angry he didn’t notice it wasn’t locked.

Jonny was in the middle of the living room at his house, sipping on whiskey and waiting for his boss. Like it was hard to guess knowing the lovely temper he possessed.

“You son of a bitch!” J barged in, panting with indignation. “You Goddamn traitor!” he took the gun out from his holster and Frost replied:

“I’m not a traitor, sir.”

“You’re not?! Then how do you explain your sister has the symbol of the Ozunu clan tattooed on her back?” The Joker shrieked while your brother serenely admitted:

“She’s married to their leader sir.”

J was so furious his ears started ringing:

“Is that an insignificant detail you forgot to mention??!!” he yelled and took the safety off his pistol, done with the interrogation.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sir,” your sibling took another sip of whiskey which prompted more outrage from a very worked up Joker.

“Are you threatening me Frost?!”

“I’m not the threat sir,” the truthful response accompanied someone’s voice coming from behind The King of Gotham:

“Mister Joker, please don’t point your gun at my brother-in-law.”

J instantly noticed a lot of movement and realized he was surrounded by a lot of people dressed in black, their faces covered in the same fabric; only the eyes were visible from behind the dark veils.

The Joker lowered his arm and turned around, facing the man that stood by Y/N; maybe in his late thirties/early forties, dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono that matched yours.

“Mister Joker, we finally meet,” your husband smirked. “My name is Shiro Ozunu and I believe you’re already acquainted with my better half,” he introduced himself while emphasizing who the woman was. “I’m sorry it took us quite some time before answering your proposal; one can’t be too careful these days.”

J was debating on the whole charade, skeptical about the unexpected encounter.

“That’s why you sent your wife and her brother to spy on me?” the spiteful tone made Shiro cut it short: he had no patience for anybody else’s outbursts except his wife’s.

“Like I said, one can’t be too careful these days! I’m here now: would you like to talk or not?”

The Joker puckered his lips, sick and tired of his shitty day:

“Maybe,” he resentfully grumbled.

****************

After four months, Monday - 6pm

“This way Mister Joker,” Frost leads the way towards the main residence belonging to the Ozunu family.

Located 3 hours away from Gotham on the outskirts of New York, the gated property is huge. It actually resembles a small village: the houses are built in the Japanese style and the sculptures decorating the vast gardens remind of the Meiji Era.

The Joker is here for the first time under the pretext of a business meeting: Shiro and his wife want him close for different reasons, not that J is aware yet.

Jonny takes a right on the path leading towards the terrace, when the sound of some kind of turmoil makes your brother shrug and the familiar noise causes him to quicken the pace.

The green haired guest is silent, mostly because he’s still irritated about his trusted henchman’s stunt. He keeps up with Frost though and when the row of decorative shrubs ends, they both see something that’s worrisome to your brother and puzzling to J: you and Shiro are engaged in a sword fight, relentlessly attacking each other.

“What are they doing?” The Joker finally bothers to articulate a sentence out of pure curiosity.

“They’re having a disagreement sir,” Jonny gulps, more and more nervous. “When they fight they don’t verbally argue; they do this.”

“Are those things sharp?”

“Very,” the short clarification makes J more interested.

Such display of skills The King of Gotham has only seen in movies; you could say he’s fortunate enough to witness a very different domestic dispute - courtesy of Shiro Ozunu and his spouse.

Your blade whooshes in the stillness and before your husband can dodge, you intentionally cut a piece of his sleeve, triumphantly snickering when it lands on the grass.

“This…this is my favorite kimono!” Shiro pants, vexed you did such a thing. He prepares to charge but he gets interrupted by a distressed Frost that can’t take it anymore:

“Shiro-san! Y/N! Mister Joker is here!”

The couple gazes at the two men, trying to regain composure; after exchanging mean looks, you put the sword down first and your husband does the same.

“Apologies Mister Joker,” your husband growls, “we weren’t expecting you this early.”

“It was a smooth drive,” J lifts his nonexistent eyebrows, bummed the spectacle is over.

“Welcome,” he is greeted by the host and you acknowledge him with a faint bow before stomping in front of the small group. Your brother runs and catches up with you, closely followed by Shiro and The Joker.

“Trouble in Paradise?” J blurs out since he’s not a sensible person.

Your husband laughs at the bold question, deeming it to be amusing instead of rude:

“Not even close. We just had a small quarrel; marriage can be stressful sometimes and you have to let out steam.”

“Is it because you’re jealous I saw your wife at the club in a skimpy bra and panties?” The Joker nonchalantly mentions as a payback for the past and Shiro pretends to brush it off.

“Careful Mister Joker; at one point I might not find your remarks funny.”

“Just saying,” J grins and has to persist with his inconsiderate observations. “I’m sure you’re afraid another man might steal her from you.”

Shiro doesn’t lose his cool but lashes out in the most elegant way possible; he’s amazing like that.

“Steal her from me?! Y/N is not an object for someone to steal Mister Joker. And I really pity the man that would dare such an affront not because what I might do, but because she would take it as unforgivable insult and she’s far more despicable than I am.”

J huffs, vexed he can’t initiate trouble while Shiro purposely stirs the conversation in a different direction:

“I trust my wife more than I trust myself, Mister Joker” and he pauses for a second. ”Did you know we grew up together?”

“Did ya’?” the visitor seems surprised.

“Yes. Her father worked for mine and they lived here. When her parents divorced, Jonny went to stay with their mother and Y/N remained here with her dad. There weren’t a lot of children for me to play with; I was the only heir to the fortune and my father kept me under strict lockdown. When we were kids, she used to come to my house or in same rare instances, I was permitted to go over to her house. As we grew up, we became pretty much inseparable. One night when we were teenagers, she didn’t make it home.”

The Joker snorts, fully aware what it means and Shiro smiles at the cherished memory.

“I’ve been in love with her since I was old enough to know what it meant. Such a shame my father didn’t understand…When he found out about us he chased her away simply because he couldn’t accept an outsider as a suitable partner for his son.”

“An outsider?” J repeats, not getting the idea.

“Y/N is not Japanese Mister Joker and my father was an old fashioned traditionalist,” your husband recalls the ordeal. “He even had an arranged marriage in mind for me. Can you imagine in this day and age to be told whom you should love?!”

The Joker lifts his shoulders up, ignorant about the subject. What would he know about love anyway? Probably nothing.

Shiro reprises his story, upset the details are making him remember the struggle:

“Y/N’s dad continued to work for my father and she was forced to move with her mother 60 miles away. It wasn’t far, yet I was under surveillance 24/7 and couldn’t escape. After a month of being apart, she showed up at the gates, begging for the security to let her in; she walked all the way here because she missed me. One of the guards went and told my father and you know what he did? He sent 6 experienced fighters to teach her a lesson which translated into beating her to death. Who would do such a thing?! Unleash a group of assassins against a defenseless 19 years old girl that just wanted to see the boy she loved…”

Your husband dwells on his thoughts and J is surprisingly immersed in the topic:

“Obviously she survived,” he gives a hint he’s waiting for Shiro to reprise the dialogue.

“Not thanks to me,” the leader of the Ozunu clan gathers his long hair together and brings it to front on the left side of his body. The wind blows it back over his shoulder again and he sights, frustrated. “A friend of mine, and like I said I didn’t have too many due to my imposed social status, came to tell me Y/N was here and that my father ordered her demise. He knew he will get in big trouble, but he still risked his life and told me. He also helped me sneaked outside the property and I ran away with Y/N. My dad was mad beyond control and disowned me; I really didn’t give a damn since I had what I wanted,” Shiro proudly states. “The next five years weren’t easy, but Y/N’s mom took as in. My father sent messengers on a monthly basis, promising that if I abandon my stupid ambition it will all be forgiven. Since when loving someone is stupid ambition anyway?!”

The Joker doesn’t answer the rhetorical question and ascends the steps leading to the covered terrace where dinner awaits.

“When I was 26 and Y/N 25, we got married. Later that year I received the news of my parent being severely ill. I was an outcast, yet the thought of leaving everything to someone else besides his own flesh and blood made him reconsider his decision regarding the estranged son. I suppose him being a traditionalist led to something good for once… First, Y/N wasn’t part of the deal: he wanted me to divorce in exchange of the empire. But given the situation, I twisted his arm and got what I wanted: I was allowed to come home with my bride. Please take a sit Mister Joker,” Shiro encourages J since they reached their destination.

A small table is set under the canopy with several dishes, chopsticks and regular dinnerware next to the plates.

“I hope you like the food Mister Joker,” your brother makes small talk and his employer groans:

“I like Asian food or did you forget that?”

You start picking shrimp from your platter and move it over to Shiro’s since that’s his favorite. He might be on your shit list for the moment but you still love him.

The chat resumes and you quietly listen when suddenly Shiro’s chopsticks pop up in front of your mouth: an oyster for his wife, which happens to be her favorite. You accept the peace offer and chew on the morsel, still not looking his way.

The Joker keeps on eating and scans the furniture scattered around the patio, inspecting the various framed pictures.

“Is that you?” he gestures towards the image closest to him depicting two young men and a girl.

“Yes, I’m the one with the blue kimono and the girl is Y/N. The other guy is the friend I told you about earlier: an orphan my father took in and used as a currier. After he told me Y/N was here to see me, he disappeared. Over the years we tried to find him but he just vanished from the face of the earth; I’m certain my father did something to him.”

“He’s probably dead then. Why are you still searching?” J yawns, rather exhausted after the long drive.

“My wife is alive because of him and we are together because of him; I wish I could repay his loyalty,” Shiro explains. “He knew he would be severely punished but he still helped us.”

“Hm,” J puffs. “Good luck then.”

***************

The Joker is spending the night and after finishing dinner he was taken to the guest house near the main Ozunu residence.

You just took a shower and crawled in bed by your husband, debating if you should say anything.

“…Shiro… are you awake?”

He wiggles a bit and switches his position so he can face you, not having any objections when you take a strand of his long hair and twist it around your fingers.

“…I’m sorry I ruined your favorite kimono…” you apologize for what you did a few hours ago.

Shiro scoots over towards you and pulls you in his arms, pouting.

“It’s ok, I have so many…”

“But that was your absolute favorite…” the regret in your voice makes him cringe. You caress his face and whisper:

“He didn’t recognize us…”

Your husband kisses you and frowns:

“Do you think he’s faking it?”

“No, he’s not faking it. He doesn’t remember anything…” you sulk and the teary eyes disturb your spouse more than it should. What better way to improve the mood than using a silly request?

“Hey Y/N, you know what? Will take everything as it comes, but in the meantime you should seriously think about how to compensate me: either we make out and then we make love or we make out and make love in the same time.”

You burst out laughing at his antiques, having a difficult time choosing:

“Take your pick !”

While the couple is reconciling from the fight they had earlier, The Joker is getting ready to go to sleep. He drags his feet on the carpet, studying the exquisite decorative items adorning the bedroom. He stops in front of the picture placed on top of the fireplace, recognizing a duplicate copy of the image he asked Shiro about at dinner time.

J glares at the frame, still not realizing that the 20 years old young man that joined Shiro and Y/N for a group picture almost two decades ago is actually him.