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The year 2011, Kujo Jotaro was dead in the depths of the ocean. Killed by Enrico Pucci’s Made in Heaven, this is now the endpoint of his life. His life shut down in quick seconds and he saw nothing but darkness. He didn’t feel his body plunging into the water. He still heard the scream of his daughter, but it faded. At last, he could rest for eternity in this black night.
“I am dead, right?” Jotaro said to himself. He wondered why rather than living in deep darkness, he felt a touch of light on his body. In sheer curiosity, Jotaro opened his eyes to know why and he was still under the sea, but he was breathing. Water conquered him but he managed to breathe. It was unlikely, right? Another thing very bizarre to his knowledge was that his eye was slashed violently by the stand, but he saw the view of the light in front of him with his two eyes. With his spectacular observation, Jotaro tasted the means of the afterlife.
But why was there a light coming to him? Jotaro questioned this to himself. If he was truly in the afterlife, he could move now as a spirit, right? He raised his arm above and spread his hand like he touched the light. He felt the heat of the light, but what fascinated him was that the sleeve of his jacket was no longer purple but black, resembling his jacket when he was in high school. He rose his upper body to a sitting position without any pain. He looked down at his legs and he discovered that his body was intact to the ocean floor.
“Jojo.”
Jotaro was astounded by the beautiful familiar voice. He looked around on all sides, but he still hadn’t found the source of the voice until he felt a warm embrace from his back. For the first time, he began to cry just from an embrace — an embrace from someone he beloved for more than twenty years. Flashbacks of their moments during that trip flooded his mind — his laughs, his random talks that Jotaro found uninteresting and his personality; then, that time when he mourned his death when he wished to know him more; and to the times he visited his grave every year, wishing to join with him as he wondered the purpose of his living as he became distant from his daughter to protect her. Now that he was here, about to join the redhead teenager into the afterlife in his high school form, he stood up and turned his back to wrap his arms around the one he loved.
“Noriaki,” Jojo called his name at last. “I miss you.”
Noriaki twitched a smile on his face, for the first time in twenty years in deep loneliness in the world of the afterlife. “I miss you too, Jojo.”
When they finished hugging, Noriaki then led him a hand to the bright light. “I can’t wait to be with you for eternity, Jojo.”
Jotaro, without hesitation, accepted his leading hand. “Me too, Noriaki.”
As they slowly ascend to the realm of the afterlife, Jotaro grabbed this chance to confess something that he wanted to confess for years.
“I love you, Noriaki.”
“I love you too, Jojo.”