Chapter Text
Rohan Kishibe had a bag hanging from his right shoulder. In it, was a manuscript for a 61-page one-shot he was working on, a pencil, a pen, some clothes, and a book on De Staёl. This was all he had left.
Hardly a week ago he’d hastily prevented the construction of a new road that was meant to pass through the mountains by buying all six of them. He needed them for his new manga after all, and that construction would’ve cost him his research. He’d heard of yokai residing in the mountains and he just had to look into it. So far, his research had been pretty uneventful. He’d come across what he suspected to be an yokai but was unable to look into it before the girl he suspected just took off, tripping and crashing her head onto a rock. If it weren’t for Heaven’s Door, getting out of that situation would’ve been much more difficult.
Along with his research being underwhelming, since the value of the mountains tanked, Rohan had no way of getting his money back. He’d lost nearly everything. To pay off his debt, he had to sell his house, along with all it’s furniture, appliances, and decor. Not only that, but he also had to sell all his valuables: his Sailor Moon figures, his hundred-thousand yen Namiki pen, and his For You and Spacy cassettes. Worst of all, he’d lost his work space, which bothered him severely. Losing his usual pace made him feel unproductive, and feeling unproductive made him feel irritable.
His first priority, however, was to find a place to stay for a while. Fortunately for Rohan, he knew exactly who he could rely on to help. Each step he took down the sidewalk was with purpose. He hadn't been walking for long. His house, or rather what used to be his house, wasn't that far from Koichi Hirose's. Once at the front of his house, he turned onto the pavement leading to his door. If there was anyone he could trust to help him out, it was Koichi. After all, they'd been friends for about seven years at this point. They'd fought enemy stand users together and had even sought out a murderer together. They had each other's backs. Rohan knocked on the door and waited expectantly.
It was fortunate for him. If he didn't have Koichi, perhaps he would've panicked at the idea of being homeless after losing all his money. It was a good thing that he had someone he could rely on.
Time passed. No one answered the door.
Did Koichi not hear the knock? He thought he’d done it firmly enough. He tried again, harder than before. The thought occurred to him. What if Koichi had gone out? Rohan would hate to have to leave and try again another time. He didn’t really have much of anywhere else to go. Maybe if Koichi had gone out for a bit, he could do some sketches in the park to pass the time. That would both calm him and alleviate his irritability.
Time passed. There was still no answer.
Rohan heard someone call out his name from behind. It was a sickeningly sonorous and cheerful voice he was all too familiar with. He turned sightly, catching a glimpse of the police car that had just pulled over, and who else was in it but Josuke Higashikata? Seven years and he still found the other entirely irksome. Even more some now that he was a cop. Rohan turned back around as if he didn't hear anything and tried knocking again.
"Are you looking for Koichi?" Josuke asked from the car.
Rohan and rolled his eyes. “‘Are you looking for Koichi’ what a silly question. Of course, I’m looking for him. Who else would I be looking for here?” he said without turning. It was stupid questions like that which annoyed Rohan, and he was already plenty agitated today. “How about you mind your own business and leave me be, hm?”
“I could, but then how else would you find out that he’s going to be out of town for the next few weeks?” Josuke asked rhetorically.
Rohan turned slowly, finally looking directly as the man in the cop car. He hoped he'd misheard. "I'm sorry?"
“He said it was urgent family business. A relative was sick, or something like that. He left yesterday,” Josuke explained.
That worry that comes with being broke that he’d previously written off as something he wouldn’t have to think about started to settle in. If Koichi wasn’t in town, then he really didn’t have much else to go. “That’s ridiculous,” Rohan said, hoping it wasn’t true, “if Koichi was going to leave town I’m sure he would’ve said something to me.”
"To be fair, he did find out on short notice. He told me though. I guess he thought I was more worth telling." Josuke ended that last sentence with a smirk. It was petty, but it was only fair after the way Rohan had been talking to him thus far. "What did you want to see him for?"
Rohan’s face whitened. He’d been so set on just staying over at Koichi’s for a little while, that he didn’t think about what he’d have to do if that wasn’t an option. He thought far too highly of himself to let himself be seen living on the streets. He could always ask for earlier payment on the one-shot just so he could get a hotel room, but he’d have to wait at least a day for a meeting with his editor, and the thought of even just a day on the streets made Rohan want to gag. He abandoned the doorway, making his way down the yard with a cool air about him as if the fear of having to figure out where to sleep that night wasn’t plaguing him. “No reason. Do you usually waste time chit-chatting on your way to work?"
"Just thought I'd save you some time and let you know." With that he grinned a cheeky grin before finally driving off. Rohan walked in the opposite direction Josuke drove off to. How he hated that stupid grin.
His calm and collected facade dropped quickly. He didn’t know what to do. Koichi was about the only person he could rely on to have his back, and now that he was out of the picture, Rohan was on his own. His first priority, he decided, was to schedule a meeting with his editor.
The walk was long and tiresome. Getting around on the bus always made things quick, but being forced to walk across town made him realize how big it was. It wasn’t until two hours passed that he finally got to the editors’ office, and it was hardly worth the two-hour walk. Somehow, his editor managed to make himself unavailable until two days from then, which was the earliest Rohan could secure a spot. Two days until he could even talk about receiving earlier payment and he wasn’t even sure it could be done. As if he wasn’t already in a sour mood, this didn't help.
Of course, this whole situation was his own doing, but what other choice did he have? If Rohan wanted to create good, realistic manga, then he needed reality. Had he just let the construction of a road drive away the evil spirits, he would’ve lost the reality he needed for his next story. An opportunity would’ve been wasted. That simply wasn’t an option for him. The only rational decision was to buy all six mountains, spending the entirety of his money. Any manga artist who cared about their profession would’ve done the same, he was sure.
His stomach rumbled, and it had just occurred to Rohan how hungry that two-hour walk had made him. This brought him to the realization of the second problem with being penniless. How was he going to eat? Unless he was lucky enough to find a thousand yen lying around, he didn’t know how he was going to be able to afford food. Having left the editors’ office, he walked down the sidewalk, thinking about what to do. He’d die before he’d let anyone see him scavenging through trash for food, so that was out of the question. He glanced up at a convenience store, and that’s when the idea came to him. Of course! He could just use Heaven’s Door to ensure the cashier wouldn’t notice him shoplifting and walk out with whatever he wanted free. He’d never used Heaven’s Door for something like this, but it was either this or go hungry, though he hated how low he had sunk.
He crossed the street to the store, entering to see it was mostly empty. He walked towards the back where he found the refrigerated food and picked out an egg sandwich along with water to go with it. This should satisfy him for a few hours, he thought to himself. Not only did he hate the fact that he was resorting to shoplifting like a low-class delinquent, but that he was even considering eating convenience store food at all. He looked down at his sandwich with disgust. Despite all this, he still didn’t regret buying those six mountains. His pride wouldn't allow it.
He turned to leave only to run into the last person he wanted to see. There hardly three feet in front of him stood Josuke, perusing through refrigerated beverages. He nearly dropped his sandwich and water, startled. The other closed the door and turned, seeing Rohan and giving him a surprised ‘hi’ before Rohan could sneak off in the other direction.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, suprised, and quite disappointed. If Josuke was here, Rohan wouldn’t be able to get away with using Heaven’s Door and stealing for his lunch, both because Josuke was a cop and a stand user. He’d also never let Josuke figure out his situation, and if he was caught, Josuke might get curious as to what was going on. He looked up at the large, equally surprised blue eyes that looked down at him. Rohan shifted his gaze somewhere else.
“I forgot to pack my lunch for today, so I came here. Don’t see what’s so shocking about that,” Josuke said, noting Rohan’s tone. Then he realized it was Rohan Kishibe he was talking to, and became confused. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What are YOU doing here? Wouldn’t you think that all of this is beneath you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rohan said swiftly. He didn’t want to engage in more conversation than he had to. He just wanted Josuke to leave so he could get his lunch. Not to mention he was feeling oddly nervous, as if he'd already committed the crime. The air felt hotter than before.
“Well, since you’ve got your things, and I‘ve got mine, want to head to the counter together?” Josuke asked.
This question caught Rohan off guard. Had he been any calmer, he could’ve declared it a stupid request and declined, or pretend that he hadn’t gotten all of his things and keep looking around the store, but for some reason, he panicked instead and decided to abandon ship.
“No, I don’t think so. In fact, I’ll just put these up. You’re right. I’d never eat food from here. Since when would I ever stoop down to buying such low-quality meals? I’ll just- if you’d excuse me I’d like to put this away- I’ll just leave. I’ve got food at home. You know, the place I live.” Rohan slipped past Josuke to put the sandwich back up on its shelf, avoiding eye contact and left. Josuke called his name, thoroughly confused, but Rohan just kept going until he was out of sight.
He walked at a brisk pace down the sidewalk getting farther and farther away from the store. He ran his fingers through his hair in relief. What just happened? He, the great Rohan Kishibe who had fought numerous enemies, shaken by a sudden encounter with that damn Higashikata. It was laughable. What was so special about him? Rohan shook his head. How ridiculous. Not wanting to get caught, he ended up making a bigger fool of himself than he intended. Josuke must've thought he was out of his mind. Not that he cared about what Josuke thought. That would be even more ridiculous.
Rohan still felt jittery from the interaction despite telling himself that he was over it. What was wrong with him today? And why did Josuke offer to go with him to the counter as if they were friends? That also confused him. It seemed that over the years Josuke had been trying to talk to Rohan more, in which Josuke would always slip in some phrase to tick him off, surrounding it in a guise of friendly conversation. Rohan hated it. That offer had to have been another attempt to mess with him. Of course.
Rohan pushed the whole encounter out of his mind. Right now he just needed to go to another store and try again, this time without the interruption of that stupid Josuke.
Rohan walked out of the other convenience store he found with an egg sandwich and a bottle of water. His plan to use Heaven’s Door on the cashier had worked, and thankfully there were no cops who had happened to forget their lunch nearby. Despite his plan working, Rohan felt like scum. It was less out of guilt and more from his wounded pride. He’d never imagined he’d be shoplifting just to get a meal, nor had he ever imagined being in a situation in which he didn’t know where he’d be sleeping that night. That was something else he needed to figure out.
Rohan decided to sit by the corner of the store to eat. All the walking he’d done had worn him out. He hardly had the energy or willpower to walk himself to the park and actually eat at a table. His dignity was as good as lost anyways.
Half-way through his sandwich he heard a commotion to his left. He glanced over to see three adult men, possibly in their early twenties, start harassing a homeless man who was begging for money.
“Why don’t you quit sitting on your lazy ass and actually get a job? Huh?” said the more muscular one in a sleeveless shirt. He kicked over the man’s can of coins and bills and cackled as the man hurried to pick it all up and put it back in the can.
“I’ve been saving this amount up for a week!” the homeless man exclaimed. “I need all this for shoes.”
Another man, perhaps the shortest out of the three, picked up a 1,000 yen note that fell out of the can, along with whatever amount was nearby. “Woah, someone was generous. Who the hell would give someone like you 1,000 yen? I’ll take this.” He opened his wallet as the man cried out.
“No! You can’t! It took me so long to get to this amount! I need it!” The homeless man stood up and reached for the note only to be kicked down by another one of the three men. This one had hair to his shoulders and wore a backwards cap as if he was a skater. Perhaps he was.
“Hey!” Rohan called out, extremely annoyed at this point. The three men stopped and looked at him, apparently shocked that anyone would have the nerve to interrupt them and quite angry about it. Rohan didn’t care. At least he wasn't as scummy as these three. “Could you three shut the hell up and give the man back his money? I’d like to eat my lunch in peace, if you don’t mind.”
The three men stared at him as if they didn’t understand. The shortest of the three then started laughing, then the rest of them. “Look! Looks like this guy’s got a little homeless friend sticking up for him. Why’s there so many of these bastards around? This a homeless shelter or something?” He started to approach Rohan, the others following after.
It was true that Rohan, for the time being, was without a home, but he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t ‘a homeless person’. He refused to be recognized as such. He stood up. These guys didn’t seem the type to allow someone to call them out without getting back at them. “I’m not his friend.”
“You wanna eat your lunch in peace, huh?” the more muscular of the three asked with a malicious chuckle. “You wanna rest in peace too?” Rohan found himself to be surrounded by these three assholes, the larger of the three suddenly smacked away his sandwich onto the concrete sidewalk which made the others laugh. It was at this moment that Rohan just about had enough of these guys and decided it was best to use his stand now before they threw the first punch.
Rohan called his stand, which took the larger guy out, but before he had even a split second to write anything, he felt himself get kneed in the stomach and hurled over in pain. As he bent over, he felt the same knee hit his head, which knocked him back and onto the sidewalk. His bag which he’d been carrying slipped from his shoulder and fell to the ground with him. While recovering from the previous blow, the more skateboarder looking of the three picked it up. Rohan realized the urgency of the situation. That was everything he had left, including the manuscript for his one-shot. They couldn’t get their hands on that. That was his very livelihood. Without that, he could say goodbye to any sort of advanced payment. He’d be stuck in this situation for a lot longer than he’d planned. He desperately reached up to grab it, only to be kicked in the stomach and knocked back down. Meanwhile, the shorter of the three was freaking out that one of his mates had gone completely unconscious without even being hit.
“Haha I wonder how much money’s in here,” the man said to himself aloud. He dealt the final blow to the defeated manga artist before running off, calling his friends off. The shorter of the three did his best to run off while supporting his mate who had blacked out, but was regaining consciousness as he furthered from Rohan’s range. Rohan did his best to pull himself up and chase after them, but they were faster, and he eventually lost them. He lost his bag too. He lost his lunch. He lost his home. His wealth. His dignity. His pride. He even lost to ordinary people! Not even stand users!
Rohan lost his composure, sinking to his knees in despair. He felt like he was on the verge of tears. How pathetic, he thought to himself. The great Rohan Kishibe, crying in the middle of the sidewalk, alone and destitute. All for a bunch of stupid mountains and research that amounted to nothing. It was a mistake. He finally admitted it to himself. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t wasted his money on research.
He got up, forcing himself to pull himself together. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and started walking. After all, the sun would set soon, and he needed to find a place to sleep.
The sun was beginning to set. Rohan sat at the entrance of an alleyway between a music store and a tattoo shop, staring up at the brick wall in front of him. This place has just about as good as any. It was secluded and out of the way, and that was enough for him to rest without bothering other people. He watched as they walked past on the sidewalk. People with children. People leaving work. People heading to somewhere nice for a date. People with a home to go to after the day was over.
On the bright side, all of this could be seen as an eye-opening experience. He hadn’t really thought that hard about what homeless people had to go through on the day to day. Maybe when he got out of this mess, he would look back at what he learned. Dear God, was that optimism? ‘On the bright side’? He truly was starting to lose his mind if that’s how he was resorting to viewing his predicament.
A cop car pulled over parallel to Rohan. It wasn’t until the windows rolled down to reveal a familiar pompadour and afterward a familiar face that Rohan paid any mind. Seeing a concerned Josuke peer over the car window at him, he pinched the bridge of his nose. As if his day wasn’t already his worst, fate just had to bring Josuke to bare witness to his lowly state. Rohan continued to not look in his direction, feeling tense. The man hadn’t begun speaking yet, and Rohan hoped that he never would. Alas, luck continued to be against him.
“Rohan?” Josuke said, only half sure it was actually the manga artist he was looking at sulking at the opening of an alleyway. “What are you doing here?”
“You really love to meddle, don’t you Higashikata? Haven’t I already made it clear that you have no business in what I do?” Rohan responded rather quickly.
“Oh. Well, I was just heading over to your house to return this bag I found at the station before heading home. I’d apprehended these three delinquents after a call that said they’d been harassing homeless people. One of them had this bag on them that I thought I had recognized from this morning. This is yours, right?” He held up the bag that had been laying in the seat next to him.
Rohan immediately recognized it and got up, eagerly approaching the car before abruptly stopping himself, realizing that he must’ve looked like a starving child desperate for food. He stood a few feet from the car. “Yes, that’s mine,” he said in a steady voice, despite internally being absolutely elated that he hadn’t completely lost everything, including his manuscript. He reached for the bag in earnest. “I’ll take that.”
The bag disappeared from his reach and from his sight. Josuke had put it back in the seat next to him. “Only if you tell me what’s going on.”
Rohan froze, still in reaching position. He had an incredulous expression on his face. Then he shifted from surprised to angry. The nerve of this man to demand that he relay all of his misfortune in order to get his things back. Just who did he think he was that he could just put his nose in other people’s business like this? He stood up straight, looking down at the other man fixedly. “Why would you think something’s going on?” Playing dumb realistically wouldn’t help him, but he gave it a try regardless.
“Let’s see, I witnessed you shopping at a convenience store: a place I swear remembering you being disgusted by, I just now saw you sitting, on the ground, in an alleyway as if you had nowhere else to go, you’re covered in cuts and bruises, and I may or may not have found spare clothes in your bag. Did you come down from your high horse to be a wandering stoic or something?”
Rohan’s eyes widened. “You- how dare you! How dare you look through my things like that. You insolent- first you ask invasive questions, then you look through my belongings? Give me my bag right now!”
Josuke put his hands up, which was an ironic thing to see someone in a police uniform do. “I didn’t look through anything! I promise. I just happened to see them. It’s not like the bag has a zipper or anything.”
That was a possibility, however, Rohan refused to believe him. “Fine then. Since you clearly don’t have a limit when it comes to meddling in my life, and since you would’ve already figured it out if you had gone to ‘my’ house instead of stopping here, I’ll tell you. I’m broke. Ok? Penniless. Bankrupt. Are you happy now? Does it amuse you to see me like this?”
Only slightly. There was always something satisfying about seeing someone who had put himself on such a pedestal come crashing back down to earth But mostly, Josuke was surprised and kind of felt bad for him. For whatever time he’d been living like this he had already managed to get mugged, beaten up, and forced to live in the streets.
Rohan saw the expression on Josuke’s face and rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you pity me. That’s even more insulting.”
“Rohan… what happened?”
“No. No more questions. I’ve already played your game so if I could have my bag back, unless you’re going to change the rules like a cheat.” He’d had enough of this. He’d acted like a fool back at the store solely to hide his situation because for some darn reason he feared Josuke’s reaction, and here he realized the reason for that. Josuke was asking out of concern, not out of some cruel form of amusement. This was a concern Rohan could find comfort in. To know that someone even remotely cared about what he was going through. He hated it. He hated how a part of him wanted to answer the question. How he wanted to relay his misery and have Josuke not only listen but care. Since when did he let this man have such power over his will?
Josuke handed over Rohan’s bag as promised. Rohan grabbed it quickly and turned to leave. He expected that to be the end of it. He expected to walk away and find somewhere to sleep for the night on the other side of Morioh, far from anywhere Josuke would be. He expected to live out the next few days on the streets and continue to shoplift for food until he could meet with his editor and get back on his feet.
Rohan heard the door of Josuke’s car open, and Josuke say, with certainty in his voice, “Get in.”