Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Shit!” 

“Josuke!” 

Fists went flying on the other side of the street as Okuyasu charged forward, his stand already starting to form, Koichi not far behind him. He could barely see through the small crowd, but the pompadour bouncing in the centre of them was undeniably Josuke’s. And he was undeniably getting the absolute shit beaten out of him. Okuyasu narrowed his eyes at the enemies, The Hand getting ready to close in and start punching.

“Look out for their stands!” he growled to Koichi, who had since caught up with him. 

What was supposed to be their relaxing week off school suddenly didn’t feel so relaxing anymore. They just expected Josuke to run there and back to the store to grab whatever they needed for their mega-hangout. When they went out to look for him after he didn’t come back, they didn’t expect to find him in a five against one brawl behind the fucking convenience store and losing nonetheless.

Koichi skidded to a halt as his eyes narrowed, then widened in confusion. “They...they don't have stands!” he panted, pulling on the fabric of his friend’s shirt, “I think they’re non-stand users!” 

That almost made him stop running for just a second. Almost.

They’re non-stand users? Why isn’t Josuke getting his stand out? He could easily defend himself from a couple punks with the help of Crazy Diamond!

His thoughts came to a halt when he heard a sickeningly loud thump as one of the kids slammed Josuke into the brick wall behind him. He couldn’t see his face that well, but a tell-tale cry of pain gave Okuyasu all that he needed to know. 

Josuke’s hurt. Josuke’s in trouble. Shit shit shit shit shit-

“Josuke!” Koichi cried, starting to call out his stand and make a break for it. Frozen for a moment, the teen watched the group of kids, trying to figure out what the hell to do. Josuke’s head slammed harshly into the wall with a sickening crunch and that was all that took for him to finally snap. 

With a loud cry, he sprinted across the pavement and punched the nearest guy he could get his hands on. Then the next one. Then the next one. He could feel his knuckles start to sting with every swing, but he kept going until he realized he was only hitting the air around him. The five boys half-ran half-limped in the other direction, wailing apologies and booking it down the street. 

“Yeah, you BETTER fuckin’ run, you bunch of pussies!” he growled angrily, spitting at the ground in front of him. The punks seemed pretty scared of Okuyasu at school already, so when mysterious stand power came into play, they seemed to run pretty quickly. It was strange, though. Josuke wasn’t one to lose a fight. When the teen got riled up, he got riled up. Why wouldn’t Josuke...? Josuke. Josuke.

Josuke.

Okuyasu quickly turned his attention to the wall that Josuke was previously held up against and watched as the teen’s eyes darkened, staring off into seemingly nothing before collapsing in on himself, one of his arms still managing to hold himself up against the brick wall. 

“Josuke!” Koichi called out, running right up to him, eyes widening in horror at the sight in front of him, “Oh god. Oh god. Oku, this looks really, really bad!”

Okuasyu didn’t know how long he could keep looking at it. His face was completely covered in blood; from his nose? Mouth? The large gash on his forehead? It all blended together so awfully, the crimson liquid that dripped down his chin and onto his clothes all looked the same to him. Hell, he could barely see his face under all that fucking blood. 

“Bro. Josuke. Don’t fall asleep,” he begged, slinging an arm around his shoulder when the teen started to slump forward.

“This is fucking bad,” Koichi groaned, his face radiating nothing but worry, “He could have a concussion, or broken bones, or brain damage, or-” He stopped himself, turning back to the pair now slumped up against the wall, “What are we supposed to do?”

Josuke groaned under Okuyasu’s grip, slowly bringing a hand to his face. At the sight of the blood dripping onto his hand when he did so, his eyes fluttered open and he backed himself further into the wall, sliding downwards and bringing Okuyasu with him. 

“Why do I…?” he asked himself quietly, examining the red fluid covering his hand, “Why’m I bleeding so much?”

“Can you seriously not remember?” Koichi’s head snapped up instantly, “Can you see okay? Do you feel dizzy? You might have a concussion.”

Josuke just sighed weakly and shook his head, swatting away at Koichi’s concerned hand. “S’fine. Not a big deal…”

The short teen’s frown deepened, almost in anger. “A-are you kidding me right now? You’re absolutely covered in blood, Josuke! What the hell happened?” 

Okuyasu felt as Josuke’s weak frame started to tremble under the pressure of trying to keep himself upright. Grabbing onto his shoulders, he guided his head to his shoulder, letting him rest there and become dead weight for a bit.

“...was a fight…” Josuke mumbled, hissing in pain when his hand accidentally grazed the wrong spot on his body, “...stupid kids...went south...got beat up...no big deal…”

They could both tell Josuke was trying to put on some kind of brave face right now when it was clearly obvious how much pain he should be in right now. An idiot could tell how bad he looked right now. Besides the thin layer of blood that dripped from his face, it also gushed steadily out of his nose, his bottom lip was split open, and a dark bruise was starting to form just next to his left eye. His usually perfectly styled hair was disheveled and a giant gash was on his forehead, little specks of dirt already infiltrating the wound. Probably from being pushed into a fucking brick wall.

“Fuckin’ cowards,” Oku muttered under his breath, “Next time I see ‘em they won’t know what’s coming…”

Koichi stared infuriated at the empty plastic bags that littered the ground. It seemed they got what they were looking for, and that was a goddamn fortune’s worth of snacks.

“Why do they have to be such bullies?” he growled, his frown deepening when Josuke seemed to slump further into himself. Okuyasu muttered something soft into his ear, and soon a comforting arm was wrapped around him. Koichi was honestly surprised that he wasn’t crying right now. He would be crying right now. Everything looked like it hurt.

He swallowed those thoughts. He didn’t even want to think about reliving whatever the hell he just saw. Especially with the knowledge that Josuke couldn’t heal himself.

“Your face looks pretty fucked, bro. Where else did they get you?” Okuyasu asked cautiously, sighing when Josuke tried to squirm out of his grasp. 

“They got a couple good blows to my head, huh?” Josuke wheezed, trying to hold himself up again, “An’ they probably messed up my hair too, didn’t they?”

Okuyasu snorted. “No shit.” 

Josuke smirked gruffly, but his wince was hard to hide. His eyes looked dull compared to the shining blue they usually were, and Koichi wondered how much pain he was in right now and how much he was willing to show to them. 

“Well, for starters, I’m pretty sure my favourite pants are ruined,” he continued with a choked laugh. It honestly sounded more like a sob, “And my stomach hurts like a bitch. Feels like I’m gonna throw up.”

Josuke’s theory proved correct as a large rip started at the cuff and ended all the way up at his knee. Koichi felt worry fill his chest.

“If you feel sick, that might mean you have a concussion,” he pressed worriedly, “Maybe we should take you to the hospital...”

Josuke grunted, trying his best to keep his breathing in check as he wiped the blood off his face using his dirt-covered sleeve. “There’s no way in hell you’re taking me to a hospital.”

...

That was the end of that idea. 

Koichi didn’t know what really happened after the fight with Kira. Between waiting rooms and crying and paperwork and Jotaro’s hands on their shoulders telling them it would be alright, the aftermath of the fight seemed like a blur. Josuke didn’t talk about the days that he remained in the hospital, and when it was asked about he always brushed it off pretty quickly. He wondered if there was a reason. 

“Uhm...okay…” the short teen paused, trying to think of some kind of alternative, “Then we should get back to your house. We can’t just sit here all day.” 

Josuke snorted and nodded, trying his best to get up without Okuyasu’s help. 

“M’mom would fuckin’ kill me if she knew I got into another fight…” he groaned. Josuke was right. His mom would kill him. Good thing she wasn’t here.

Tomoko Higashikata had to leave for some giant teacher conference, the entire reason there was a school break right now, and wouldn’t be back until the week-long break was over. She was reluctant to leave her son at home for an entire week, but Josuke promised he wouldn’t get into trouble—plus, Koichi was “reliable” according to her.

Even so, Josuke knew he wouldn’t heal so quickly. He knew that he could easily hide the bruises forming under his clothes, but his face was a different story. He wasn’t sure if concealer was going to convince her this time. He felt guilt fill his chest as Okuyasu hauled him upwards. He couldn’t hide the sharp cry of pain that escaped him when the teen accidentally pressed up against his side.

“Shit, sorry,” Oku hissed, pulling his hand away from Josuke as the man protectively wrapped an arm around his side. When his hand came up soaked in blood, he instinctively pulled back, trying to examine the wound himself. 

“What-” he paused, trying to pry away Josuke’s hands from the quickly soaking spot on his side, “Dude, how the hell did that happen?” 

Josuke looked away when Koichi came up beside him, inhaling sharply at the sight of it. It was steadily soaking through his black shirt and he could see the way Josuke’s hands were trembling, despite doing everything he could to try and hide it. 

“One of ‘em must’ve had a knife,” he choked out, eyes burning holes into the ground. Koichi looked pale. They’d been through so much more than this, how could Josuke let a group of fucking kids get away with something like this?

“Why didn’t you use your stand?” he blurted out, noticing the way Josuke turned away quietly. He didn’t answer, and from the way he was avoiding it so flippantly, it didn’t look like he was going to answer anytime soon. 

“Let’s just go,” Koichi finally sighed, looking around at the busy streets and sidewalks, trying to somehow find a way to get Josuke home before things got worse, “Are you absolutely sure you don’t have a concussion?” 

Josuke shook his head and spat out a mouthful of what looked like blood. Koichi’s stomach flipped just thinking about how bad that probably was.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, hissing and pulling away when Okuyasu tried to unwrap his arms from his midsection,  Stop fuckin’ worrying.”

They both looked unconvinced, but they were too mentally exhausted to argue with him at this point. Koichi scanned the sidewalk, trying to come up with something.

“If we call a cab, they’ll probably call the police,” he laughed dryly, “I think we might just have to take the backroads and hope we don’t run into anyone we know.” 

It was blistering hot. The last thing Josuke could think about right now was trying to stumble home in this heat covered in blood. He didn’t even think he could move right now. Everything fucking hurt. If it wasn’t covered in blood, it was a bruise starting to form or a muscle pulled or a dirt-covered scrape against the hot pavement.

“We don’t want anything to get infected,” Koichi said nervously, glancing at how much dirt he saw mixed with the blood caked on the man’s face, “We should probably start heading back.”

Josuke nodded painfully, trying to pick himself up again and out of Okuyasu’s grasp. It resulted in him stumbling away from the wall and tripping over himself, growling in frustration when Okuyasu stepped forward to catch him just before his body hit the ground again. 

“You gotta be careful, bro,” he said quietly, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders, trying to ground him again. Josuke looked like he was about to push him away again, but his dull eyes finally darkened and he slumped painfully into his friend.

He felt himself start to sink to the ground again and he winced as the bruises on his abdomen started to throb. He could see the worry in Koichi’s face through half-lidded eyes. He could feel blood start to trickle down his nose again. That probably wasn’t good.

God, he wished his stand could heal himself. 

“I don’t think he’s gonna be able to walk,” Okuyasu muttered to Koichi, clenching his fists in frustration, “How the hell are we supposed to get him home?”

Everyone could feel the tension in the air mixed with the boiling heat. If they walked home, they were bound to make things worse. If they called a car, they would be taken to the police or the hospital, and that was out of the question, made very clear by Josuke. If they stayed here in this awful weather, Josuke might pass out. 

This isn’t good. No one was saying it, but they were all thinking it. Josuke coughed up another mouthful of blood and tried to suppress a groan. This really isn’t good.

Koichi felt his breath start to quicken as he walked silently over to the payphone hanging against the wall. Maybe he could call Yukako? Her parents were barely home, maybe she had a car they could borrow without them knowing? Wait—none of them knew how to drive. Shit. He felt panic fill him as he searched through his pockets. No money. They had all given their money to Josuke so they could buy food. But now-

“Shit,” he swore under his breath. Josuke probably got his wallet taken, too. What the hell were they supposed to do? Maybe he should call an ambulance after all. What other option was th-

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my best friend, Koichi.” 

His head snapped up at the familiar voice, slumping forward with relief as he caught sight of who it was.

“Rohan!” 

The man nodded a greeting to Koichi and narrowed his sharp eyes at the sight behind him. “What the hell happened?”

Koichi shakily led him over to the brick wall that Josuke was slumped against. “He’s really hurt. We don’t think he can walk home, but he doesn’t want to go to a hospital or anything so we don’t know what to do.” 

His voice had an edge of panic to it and Rohan briskly walked over, setting down his grocery bags. Koichi wasn’t lying when he said Josuke was hurt. He looked pretty beaten up. Rohan frowned. 

“A stand did this?” 

There was a moment of tense silence as none of them answered. Okuyasu slowly shook his head and Rohan was beyond confused. How could Josuke let a non-stand user get away with something like this? He sighed, pulling out a coin. 

“If it isn’t stand business, I’m calling his mom.”

“Can’t…” Josuke’s voice sounded like he was swallowing glass, “She’s not home...” 

Rohan turned his head to the kid slumped against the wall, sneering. “Jesus. I didn’t think you were even awake.” 

“She’s on a business trip,” Koichi urged, his voice starting to edge on total panic, “She won’t be back until the end of the week.”

The man sighed. Apparently, the hospital was out of the question, too. And he really didn’t want to deal with Josuke in fucking A&E. It sounded like a nightmare just thinking about it. God, he wished Jotaro was still around so he could deal with this shit instead of him. 

He looked over to Okuyasu and Josuke and the blood staining both of their clothes, then back at Koichi. He felt anxiety pull at his chest. He couldn’t just leave them here. 

This would probably be a good experience for his manga, anyway. 

Sighing deeply, he shook himself out of his thoughts and sifted through his newly-bought groceries. He pulled out a water bottle and handed it to Koichi, picked up his bags, and started walking the opposite direction. Koichi’s expression was fearful.

“Rohan-”

“-Give me five minutes.” 

Rohan Kishibe had one simple and straightforward plan tonight that played through only three steps. Rent the trashiest movie he could find, make ramen, and work on his manga until he passed out at his desk while said shitty movie was playing in the background. It seemed like a stupid plan, but Rohan found that he felt better about his art when he was surrounded by things that were worse than he was. As pathetic as that might sound.

It was 4pm. It was too hot out. He had bought his fucking ramen. His next stop was the movie rentals, but of course Josuke fucking Higashikata had managed to foil his evening plans once again without even meaning to this time.

Instead of sitting at home and participating in the act of shitty rituals, he was hastily loading his grocery bags into the trunk of his car and driving tensely back in the direction of the convenience store.

He stopped the car in the front of the store, sliding down the car windows once Koichi and Okuyasu appeared from behind the building. Josuke seemed almost limp between them and Rohan couldn’t help but think about the fight with Kira from months ago. The way his eyes darkened before he collapsed completely. The way Jotaro had to shakily call Tomoko and explain that her son had a piece of wood sticking out of him. The way Okuyasu wouldn’t stop fucking crying and the way Rohan had to hold Koichi back to make sure he didn’t follow the nurses into the emergency surgery room.

“Only Koichi can sit in shotgun,” he barked, letting the pair open the door and carefully help Josuke inside. Okuyasu got in next to him and Josuke’s head immediately lulled to the side, resting it on his shoulder. 

“We’ll get there soon, okay?” Oku whispered, wincing as Josuke kept both hands steadily plastered to his side. Rohan caught a glance of them between the rear-view mirror just as Koichi popped in next to him. He stepped on the gas as Koichi caught him up on what exactly happened to them.

Josuke’s house was about a ten minute ride from the store. It wasn’t long enough to be concerning, but just long enough to be awkward. There was nothing they could do for those ten minutes except to try and stop the bleeding. The silence was deafening.

“I didn’t know you had a car,” Koichi commented quietly. Rohan could tell how worried he was, but there was nothing he could say to console him. He was never really good at that comfort stuff.

“Just got it last week,” Rohan sneered, “Can’t wait to clean Josuke’s bloodstains off those ¥217,000 leather seats.” 

Josuke responded with a choked laugh. “S’what you get for being such an asshole.” 

“I’m sacrificing my precious evening plans to help the likes of you,” he scoffed, “Be thankful or I’ll kick you out of my new car.” 

Josuke snorted, “You were probably gonna watch fucking Baby Geniuses and drown out your sorrows in shitty wine and instant noodles.” 

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were only half-conscious.”

“Yeah? Well I-” 

“-Thank you,” Koichi interrupted their little argument, staring up at Rohan quietly, “You guys might not get along, but I don’t know what we would do if we didn’t run into you. So thank you.”

Both fell silent and Rohan felt his face tint pink. He scoffed and turned his eyes back to the road. Why was he even doing this? 

“This is merely more material for my manga.”

He could feel Koichi’s glare burning holes into the side of his head, but he kept driving. Josuke hadn’t said a word after that. He was being too quiet. 

“How did you even manage to get stabbed by a non-stand user? Even an idiot like you would be able to use your stand on them,” he said cynically, waiting for Josuke to fight back with some kind of retort. It never came. 

“Didn’t want to.” 

“But why?” he growled, “It would have been easier to take them out with your-”

“-I didn’t fucking feel like it, okay?” he sounded hostile, his voice strangely steady. If he wasn't driving right now, he would already be using Heaven’s Door to read his mind. But even he knew that some things were more important than others. He sighed in irritation, changing the subject before he got too annoyed. 

“How much blood is on my seat right now?”

“...”

“A moderate amount...” Okuyasu said cautiously.

Rohan sighed. He couldn’t wait to tell the car people how he got mysterious dark stains all over his new car. If he didn’t have his stand ability to fuck with them, they would probably think he was a murderer.

“I think most of the bleeding is starting to stop,” Okuyasu said gruffly, “If it wasn’t so fucking hot out I’d have my jacket to put on it.”

Koichi, who had been silent for most of the car ride, finally turned around. “Where else is he bleeding?”

“Looks like just his head and his side. Though there’s a fuck ton of it.” 

The ride was mostly silent for the rest of the way. Josuke had said nothing after Rohan questioned him about his stand and he was determined to find out one way or another why he didn’t bring it out. Koichi sat tensely beside him and Rohan wondered if he was reliving whatever had happened in the hospital. He expected him and Okuyasu to be worried, but he didn’t know why he was worried. He could care less about Josuke and what he did, but Jotaro’s voice just before he left Morioh still filled the back of his head. 

“I know you’ll look after them. That’s why I know I can leave.”

He laughed at the prospect of ever having anything to do with them again, but he supposed that once you tie strings with someone, it's hard to snip it off again.

By the time they trudged through the doorway of Josukes’s house, he looked even worse than when they had found him. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and both Koichi and Okuyasu could tell that the teen was trying his best to keep them noticing his breathing, which had gotten significantly heavier.

Rohan shut and locked the door, already feeling absolutely drained. Once the door was shut, Josuke fell limp against it, groaning softly as he started to slowly sink to the floor. 

“Where the hell do you keep your first aid?” Rohan snapped. Josuke muttered something about the kitchen and Koichi led him out of the front hall just as Josuke’s eyes started to close.

He could barely even tell where he was hurt anymore. Everything both throbbed and felt numb at the same time, and all he wanted to do was keep his eyes closed until it all stopped.

“You can’t fall asleep yet, bro. We gotta clean you up and shit.” 

Josuke felt a long sigh escape him as a pair of strong hands hoisted him up out of his comfortable spot against the door. He thought he heard Koichi and Rohan talking quietly in the kitchen, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focused on trying to wipe the blood off his nose.

“C’mon, man, you’re just gonna get more dirt on your face,” Oku gently pulled his arm away from his face and started walking them towards the stairs, “We’ll stop the bleeding once we’re in your room.” 

The pair slowly but surely made it to Josuke’s room, the floor still littered with empty chip bags and pizza boxes from where they had been before they went out to get more snacks. They took a slight turn into Josuke’s bathroom and Okuyasu closed the toilet seat, lowering his friend onto it. Josuke sat silently as his friend flicked on the lights and started rummaging through cabinets. He crossed his arms protectively over his chest. Okuyasu stared at him in concern and Josuke felt guilty. 

This wouldn’t have happened if he was just normal. This wouldn’t have happened if he just acted normal. He didn’t want to believe what those kids had said, but it was true in the end, wasn’t it? He wasn’t normal. He was a fucking freak.

“Josuke?” he blinked and his eyes came in contact with piercing brown ones, dark with worry and...sympathy?  

“Does it really hurt that much?” He became acutely aware that tears were starting to well up in his eyes and he knew that Okuyasu could see it. Josuke was going to say yes, yes it did hurt, but not in the way that you think it would, but he found himself shaking his head instead.

“S’fine.”

Okuyasu looked like he wanted to say something else, but it was short-lived as Koichi appeared in the room, carrying a handful of towels. He wordlessly set the supplies down and started to wet one of them under the sink, staring at Josuke with a sympathetic look on his face. 

“We’re going to have to clean your face,” he kneeled down next to him, “I’ll try to be quick.” 

Josuke winced as the white towel immediately started to soak with blood as soon as Koichi pressed it against his face. He wiped the dirt off his forehead and chin and finally handed the towel to him to press against his nose. He could feel the caked blood on his face finally starting to come off. It felt relieving despite the immense pain he was in. Okuyasu watched in tense silence. 

“Fuck, dude. Your eye looks pretty bad.” 

Josuke felt dread build up in his chest as he cautiously pressed his free hand in the tender spot above his eye. A black bruise was starting to form, he could feel it. This wouldn’t be easy to hide from his mom. He could only pray that it would go away before she got back. 

“Can you go get some ice for it?” Koichi asked calmly, grabbing another towel from the pile to press against the gash on his forehead. Okuyasu jumped at the opportunity to do something and quickly sped down the stairs in search of something to relieve the swelling. 

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but…” Koichi paused, brushing back Josuke’s sweaty hair from his forehead, “How...did you lose?”

Josuke felt his face sting from the cool towels pressed against him, but his eyes stung even more. How did he lose? He saw the boys coming. He heard the hostile tone in their voices as they sauntered over. He heard when they started calling him...things. Things that he didn’t want to think about. Things that he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

He thought about calling Crazy D and beating the shit out of all of them, but it was like a switch went off in his brain. He couldn’t. It was almost like he didn’t want to. He froze, and when the punches started flying, he found that he didn’t have the drive to defend himself. 

Maybe it would have kept on going if Koichi and Okuyasu hadn’t pulled him out of it. 

“Bad timing,” he mumbled. His mouth tasted like copper. He felt sick. 

Koichi looked unconvinced, but Josuke was grateful that he didn’t press deeper into the subject. He was worried if he thought about it too long he would get... emotional.

“Aww, what’s wrong Higashikata? Gonna cry? HA! Of course you’d be the one to cry. You always do get too emotional, don’t you?”

He wasn’t supposed to be emotional. He was supposed to be manly. He was a fucking guy, after all. Why should he be crying over some little fight? He was supposed to just forget about what they said, right? He was a man, he was strong, he wasn’t supposed to let stuff get to him. He felt his face burn with shame because he was supposed to be fucking Josuke, he wasn’t supposed to lose fights.

Even so, the very thought of bringing out his stand ever again was enough to make him sick. Stands have done nothing but cause everyone around him trouble. He didn’t even want to think about what Crazy D was capable of. Especially when he got mad. When he got angry, people got hurt. 

“Thank you Koichi,” Rohan said as he emerged into the room and shook Josuke out of his thoughts. In his hands was the first aid kit Josuke had recognized as his own, the one that sat in the top cupboard of the kitchen. If his mom knew how much he used it, she would wring his neck. Rohan opened the kit and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid, “Your face needs to be cleaned first so we can get ice on it. We’ll deal with whatever the hell you did to your side once the bleeding fully stops.” 

Josuke nodded, biting his lower lip as Koichi pressed one of the towels up against his side, the white fabric already absorbing most of the blood.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” Rohan screwed off the lid to the bottle and pulled out a handful of cotton pads. Josuke closed his eyes and prepared for the burning feeling of the rubbing alcohol he knew all too well, digging his fingers into the palms of his hands as the familiar sting started to kick in.

“I got the ice,” Okuyasu’s head appeared in the doorway and set a blue ice pack on the bathroom counter.

“Why am I not surprised that your bathroom smells like a hairspray factory exploded?” Rohan coughed, grabbing another cotton pad, “Jesus, how the hell did you even fuck your face up this badly?” 

Josuke flinched at the burning sensation he felt as Rohan pressed the soaked cotton against the gash on his forehead, the flesh stinging as soon as the harsh fluid touched it. He barely choked out, “I was thrown into a brick wall, asshole.” 

He waited for Rohan to reply with something snarky, but the man remained silent, gently removing the towel that Josuke had pressed to his nose. 

“It doesn’t look broken,” he muttered, “It’d be a fucking pain if I had to reset it for you.”

He left Josuke to his own devices as he rummaged around for more supplies. Okuyasu’s eyes shined with curiosity. 

“Wait...you know how to reset bones?” he asked eagerly, “Since when? Come to think of it, you know a shit ton about first aid for someone who’s only 20.” 

Rohan merely scoffed at that claim, not taking his eyes off the gauze pads he had started to unwrap. “I draw people getting beaten up for a living. You think I wouldn’t know basic first aid?”

Okuaysu grumbled something under his breath and Koichi adjusted the towel pressed into Josuke’s side. “Rohan, I don’t think normal people know how to reset bones.” 

Rohan almost laughed. Almost. But that was because it was Koichi. “I had to draw a scene where someone had to do it, so I taught myself. Broke my own fucking nose, too.”

That elicited a laugh from Josuke. Rohan narrowed his eyes in disgust. “You think it's so funny? You won’t be laughing when my next paycheck comes in.”

“God, you’re such a freak,” Josuke snorted, the towel pressed against his nose and mouth muffling his voice. 

“I will break your nose just to just to unbreak it and then break it again,” he deadpanned. Okuyasu laughed. Koichi didn’t. 

The three of them continued to work on Josuke as he sat there uncomfortably. It felt like he was some kind of doll getting thrown around and poked, or like he was being operated on while still awake. There wasn’t really much he could do except hold the blood-soaked towel against his side as Koichi held a gauze pad to the gash on his forehead while Rohan taped it. He felt a cold relief on his left eye as Okuyasu held an ice pack to it, but he couldn’t ignore the throbbing pain from his side any longer. 

Now that everything was being taken care of, the immense pain he was feeling in that one area got more and more apparent. The smell of liquid copper was starting to make him feel sick. He felt his chest tighten as another wave of pain washed over him. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “You doing alright, bro?” Okuyasu kept the ice pack gently on his eye and knelt down next to him, “You look kinda pale.” 

Josuke wanted to say he was fine— there was no way in fucking hell he was setting foot in a hospital again unless he was dying —but another wave of pain sliced through him and he felt himself double over. Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. His legs felt numb. Rohan took a step back.

“I think we need t’do somethin’ about my side…” he choked out in a half-whisper. He could hear Rohan and Koichi start to converse again, but the incessant throbbing he could feel everywhere was making the sounds around him start to blur together and the tiled bathroom floor start to melt beneath his feet.

“Hey, don’t fall over, okay?” There was a hand steadily placed on his back, another on his chest and Josuke felt like he was going to pass out. His head drooped forward into warmth, a warmth he recognized as Okuyasu. 

“Why is he doing that?” Koichi’s panicked voice echoed from beside him, “He looks like he’s going to pass out. Why is he doing that?” 

“Sometimes people feel uneasy at the sight of their own blood,” Rohan’s voice echoed back, “But I need to figure out if he needs stitches or not.” 

Stitches. Stitches.

He had gotten so many stitches after Kira. He didn’t want them again. Stitches meant doctors prodding him and being loopy on pain meds and the beeping of hospital equipment attached to him and his mom and Koichi and Okuyasu crying as he sat there, lonely and afraid and hurt and exhausted and covered in blood and dirt and-

“-We need to lift up his shirt.” 

Rohan’s voice shook him out of his thoughts and he found himself hazily pulling away from them as a hand went flying towards the direction of his wound. 

“Don’t,” he spat, using the last of his arm strength to shield himself from them, his head sinking further into Okuyasu’s embrace. 

Oku wouldn’t hurt him. Oku wouldn’t make him do anything that would hurt him. Oku was safe.

“Stop being difficult,” Rohan snapped, “If this is a serious injury, we need to know.”

Josuke didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want them to see what lay underneath. He groaned and tried to make himself smaller and he hated himself for being so scared. 

“Josuke please,” Koichi begged, taking a step behind Rohan when Josuke turned his head and glared at him. He could feel Okuyasu’s arm slink around his waist slowly. His breath hitched. 

“Bro, we need to clean it. I know you’re being weird about it cause it hurts a lot, but we both know you’d say the same thing to me.” 

Josuke breathed in deeply and tried to make himself relax. He gritted his teeth and nodded stiffly. 

“Fine.”

Rohan nodded briskly and left Okuyasu where he was next to Josuke. He made Koichi slip to the wounded side of Josuke, softly prying his hands away from the blood-soaked towel pressed up against his side. He lifted up Josuke’s shirt and felt the teen flinch, his hands balled up into fists no doubt digging into the soft skin of his palms. 

As soon as his shirt was up and off of him, he shivered involuntarily and looked away. He didn’t want to see the reactions on their faces when they saw it . The ugly part of him. The reason he didn’t go to the beach all summer and the reason he refused to get changed in front of other people. 

Koichi’s stomach dropped. Just a few centimetres past the bloody gash on Josuke’s stomach was the start of one big, long, jagged scar that reached diagonally almost across his entire stomach. It was a couple shades darker than his skin, but it was still there. It was still noticeable. A thick silence filled the room and Josuke felt his eyes start to blur. 

“I—I know it looks fuckin’ awful, okay?” he stuttered out, closing his eyes as another wave of pain hit him, “Just stop looking at it and hurry up.”

Koichi shook his head and tried to explain, “Josuke-” 

“-I said hurry the fuck up,” he snapped, “I’m not doing this shit all day.”

Rohan sighed and inched closer, trying to pretend that the entire exchange didn’t happen. No, he didn’t feel bad for Josuke. He didn’t feel awful that he went through something like this at only 16. He didn’t feel copious amounts of guilt for being such an asshole to him while he was injured. He wasn’t wondering how awful Josuke must feel with another wound so close to one that had only previously healed. 

“Most of the bleeding already stopped,” he said steadily, “But I still need to clean it.” He held his breath as he said the inevitable, something that he knew Josuke didn’t want to hear. “This is going to hurt.” 

Josuke nodded tensely, his hand grasping onto the fabric of Okuyasu’s shirt. He didn’t realize it until now, but he was holding his other hand. He heard the sink being turned on again as Koichi wet another towel.

“This might be too deep to clean with hydrogen peroxide,” Rohan muttered quietly to himself. Turning back to Josuke and Okuyasu, he took the wet towel from Koichi’s urgent grasp. Rohan hesitated before starting to clean around it.

“You might want to grab onto something.” 

With a silent nod, the kid closed his eyes and braced for impact. The towel pressed against Josuke’s skin and he hissed, his shoulders pulling together tightly. Koichi looked away and Okuyasu squeezed his hand tightly.

Rohan was silent with his work. He bit his tongue to keep from apologizing because god forbid Rohan Kishibe apologize to Josuke. Even so, he had to keep from staring at him with pity as he cleaned closer and closer to the cut.

“Can’t you—hurry up or something?” Josuke said breathlessly, squeezing Okuyasu’s hand until his fingers felt numb, “M’gonna pass out if you don’t hu-” 

He stopped mid-sentence, gasping loudly when the towel touched an especially sensitive spot on the cut. Koichi got up quickly and murmured something about getting Josuke a new shirt. Okuyasu laughed nervously. 

“Leave it to you to not get squeamish over these things, huh Rohan?” 

“We’ve all seen worse.” 

The room went silent and Rohan looked up. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say right now. Okuyasu’s smile was strained as Josuke grasped onto him, beads of sweat forming on the injured one’s forehead. God, he really does look like he’s about to pass out.

As he wiped up the rest of the blood surrounding the cut, he thought back to the instant ramen sitting in the trunk of his car. Maybe if he was efficient enough, he could get the fuck out of here and still have time for his evening plans. As he finally lifted the towel off his wound and fully observed it, he realized right then and there that there was no fucking way he would be able to have a nice evening tonight. 

“This needs stitches.”

Koichi emerged from Josuke’s bedroom holding a t-shirt but paused at his statement. There was a tense silence before Josuke finally opened his eyes and sat up, his voice surprisingly steady. 

“No, it doesn’t.” 

Rohan felt irritated. “Yes, it does. You think I’m fucking lying to you, Higashikata?”

Josuke said nothing, his eyes burning holes in the ground again. Rohan and Okuyasu made eye contact, and something told him that convincing Josuke to go to a hospital wouldn’t be easy. The green-haired man sighed and brought out another large gauze pad from the first aid kit accompanied by a roll of bandages. 

“We need to keep pressure on this.” 

Although Josuke was less compliant this time, it didn’t take long before the large cut was wrapped up. Rohan watched as Josuke winced when his hand grazed his long scar but didn’t say anything. Koichi passed Josuke a new shirt and he put it on, still attached to Okuyasu like he was his lifeline.

There was a soft silence before Rohan finally spoke up again, dreading the words about to come out of his mouth.

“We need to go to a hospital.” 

The tension was cut like a knife as Josuke sat up abruptly, his entire body tensing up at the mention. 

“No.”

“Listen, I’d rather do anything than be in a hospital waiting room with you, but we need to fucking go,” Rohan said quietly, the cynical tone in his voice replaced with sobriety.

“No,” Josuke argued louder, his uneasy look replaced with anger as he and Rohan locked eyes. “I’m not going.”

“I don’t make the fucking rules and neither do you,” Rohan snapped, “Either I use Heaven’s Door to get you to get in my fucking car, or you pull yourself together and get in yourself.” 

“Josuke-” Okuyasu started, but was interrupted as Josuke pushed out of his grasp, backing away towards the edge of the tub. 

“-NO!”

Stumbling backward, Josuke brought out his stand, who jumped forward with an angry lurch, punching at the air. At the sight of his own stand, Josuke’s eyes welled up with tears and he angrily tried to wipe them away. Crazy Diamond dispersed as fast as he appeared.

They all stopped. 

That panicked voice—it didn't sound like Josuke. A hand plastered to his side, he scrambled to the corner of the bathroom and leaned his back up against the wall defensively. He was breathing too heavily and his eyes were too dull. It was like he was seeing right through all of them. 

He wasn’t here. Josuke wasn’t here.

In fear of him summoning his stand again, they could all do nothing but wait as Josuke tried to sort himself out. It took a couple seconds before he blinked, his fearful gaze lifting up to greet them again. He clung to the sides of the wall, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“Rohan—please—” he begged, his voice quiet and breathless, “Please— don’t make me go…”

A shrill silence. Koichi radiated anxiety and Okuyasu’s eyes shone with worry. Rohan’s chest swelled with realization. 

“You’re afraid.”

It sounded more like a statement than a question.

“No, I—” Josuke sucked in an uneven breath. He realized too late that his hands were shaking.

“Because of Kira.”

Rohan didn’t need to use Heaven’s Door to know how terrified Josuke was right now. You could see it on his face—regret, shame, fear. It was all there. He sighed and bunched up the blood-covered towels as well as Josuke’s shirt, pushing past Koichi and Okuyasu.

“Kira is dead and this injury is not from him. It's from you being an idiot,” he said coldly, swallowing his guilt, “I’m taking care of these and washing this shit off my hands. Okuyasu, you’re covered in blood. Get another shirt. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Leaving them with that, Rohan promptly exited the room, leaving just the three of them. 

Josuke still had his back pressed against the wall, his hands still trembling. Koichi frowned and took a step forward. 

“Are you...okay?” 

Josuke answered in a wet laugh, though it sounded a bit more like a strangled sob, “I don’t fuckin’ know! It’s so—it’s so stupid cause I know he’s dead, but every time I get hurt I always think about—”

He shook his head, not able to say anymore. Every scrape, every bruise, every drop of blood just reminded him of that day. The days he spent in the hospital, the days he didn’t know where he was, the days he still thought Kira was somehow alive and secretly plotting something again.

He felt his vision start to blur with unshed tears. He felt like an idiot for being so stupidly scared. 

“Bro…it’s fine,” Okuyasu said quietly, making his way over to him. Josuke flinched, but ultimately followed without protest back to his spot on the toilet, “It's fine to be scared about shit.”

Josuke shook his head, burying his face in his hands. It was so stupid. He knew it was so stupid. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter what he did. He didn’t want to think about the way hospitals smelled like bleach or how dull the walls looked. He didn’t want to think about some doctor stitching him back up and putting him on pain meds. He didn’t want to see his mom cry again.

“You remember Centipede Shoes, right? Where we first found Kira?” Koichi was now standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder, “I can’t even walk past it anymore. He did everything to me. Smashed my head into the pavement, pulled my hair, punched me...and Mr. Jotaro couldn’t do anything, either…” 

He stopped, trying not to let the memories take him over. Josuke was now looking up at him with tired, dull eyes. He looked so fucking exhausted. 

“What I’m trying to say is that it's fine to be scared about stuff. Even if it's kind of irrational. Like, why would Kira ever come back to life and wait for me at Centipede Shoes?” he stopped, chuckling at the thought, “I know all this stuff is freaking you out, but you won’t be okay unless we take you there. You know that, right?”

It took awhile for Josuke to answer, but he finally nodded slowly, his hands scrunching up into fists. “Yeah. I know. M’sorry.”

They sat there for a couple more minutes until Rohan re-emerged into the bathroom, barking at Okuyasu to put on another shirt. Josuke groaned and looked up at the older man.

“Are you sure you can’t use Heaven’s Door to make yourself know how to stitch someone up?”

Rohan looked unamused. “Technically speaking, yes. But we don’t have any medical supplies or any meds besides fucking Advil. We’re going whether you like it or not.” 

Okuyasu stepped in wearing one of Josuke’s shirts, and with his help, they lifted him up and started making their way downstairs. 

It was 8pm. Rohan Kishibe was supposed to be at home working steadily on his manga while his shitty movie was playing and his shitty ramen was getting cold. Instead, he was sitting in the emergency waiting room with the one person he found most irritating.

But he could hardly be angry about it at this point.

The car ride was awful. Although Josuke kept yelling that he wasn’t going to bring his stand out again, they were still cautious about how to get him in the car. He agreed to go to the hospital, but the moment they got to the front door, he shrunk back, almost made himself smaller and growled that he couldn’t do it.

Rohan used Heaven’s Door to make him cooperate, but that didn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes as he walked stiffly to the car upon order. Rohan wrote on his forehead that Josuke Higashiakata cannot get out of this car, but that didn’t stop him from begging them to go back, that he was fine, that he didn’t need to go.  

It was absurd. He sounded like he was six. With much coercion from Koichi, he still let Josuke have his voice despite how unreasonable he was being right now. 

Though the moment they turned up in the hospital parking lot, he went radio silent.

Josuke sat beside him in the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in, shaking like a leaf. He hadn’t said a word. Okuyasu sat to Josuke’s right and Koichi sat next to Rohan. A baby was crying somewhere in the waiting room and he could hear a young couple bickering a few seats down. An old woman with a sling around her arm stared at him intently and Rohan was graciously reminded of how much he hated people. 

It had been four hours. Four hours. Rohan wasn’t supposed to interact with people for more than a few hours at most, that’s just how he was. If he didn’t get home soon and recharge his fucking battery he would lose it. And he was not going to lose it in front of Josuke and Okuyasu.

“Next?”

A woman at the receptionist desk looked up from her computer, and Rohan realized that they were next in whatever stupid line the hospital had going on. He looked over to Josuke, who didn’t seem to even acknowledge him. Okuyasu had an arm slung around his shoulder and he was still trembling. He locked eyes with Koichi, who tilted his head in the direction of the woman. 

Rohan then realized that he was the only adult here. 

Shit.

Slowly getting up, he greeted the receptionist stiffly.

“Name and identification?” 

“Rohan Kishibe.”

The woman nodded as Rohan pulled out his wallet and set down ID for both him and Josuke. His mother had left it on the kitchen counter, almost as if she knew that something would happen to her son. The sound of a baby crying came from somewhere behind him. He felt irritation fill his chest.

“Why are you here this evening?” 

“He needs stitches,” he gestured over to Josuke, who didn’t seem to notice them. His eyes were still closed, his teeth clenched together. The woman narrowed her eyes at the teen, then back at Rohan. He could feel the eyes of the old woman with the sling around her arm burning holes into his back. 

“Are you his legal guardian?” 

She didn’t mention the fact that Josuke was pale and shaking. She didn’t ask him if he was okay. She didn’t-

“His mother is out of town,” he hated the way his voice stuttered as he tried to find the words, “I’m...looking after him while she’s gone.”

The woman typed a few things into her computer and looked up at him again. 

“We’ll need to get in contact with his legal guardian.” 

Rohan let out a breath of relief. He was so fucking glad that Tomoko took all the responsible fucking precautions of leaving for a week and leaving behind a list of important numbers. The hotel she was staying at. The conference building she was meeting at. Thank god.

“This should have any information you need on it,” Rohan hastily unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to the woman, who nodded briskly and picked up the chunky telephone. 

“There should be a bit more of a wait. Try to make yourself comfortable.”

Rohan sighed and thanked her, sitting back down between Josuke and Koichi. He tried to ignore how heavily he was breathing, but he didn’t know if he could anymore. 

“Josuke.” 

The teen didn’t answer. Okuyasu looked at him worriedly. He could leave it there. He had the choice not to press further. But he did. Putting a soft hand on his shoulder, he tried to speak the softest he could. 

“You’re going to be okay.”

Rohan didn’t get any indication except for a small nod. Okuyasu murmured something into Josuke’s ear and Rohan could feel Koichi start to lean into him. 

This moment felt so familiar: The uncomfortable chairs. The way Koichi was slumped against him. The way Josuke looked far too pale. The way they were all waiting for Tomoko to pick up the phone. The way a thousand eyes were staring at him in the stuffy, cramped waiting room that was blasting too much air conditioning.

Just wait a bit longer, Rohan said to himself. Though he didn’t know if he was just saying it to himself.

It took two more hours before they could get in contact with Tomoko.

Josuke wanted out. He wanted out of his body, he wanted out of this fucking hospital, and he wanted Crazy Diamond to get out of his fucking head. 

He knew he couldn’t be mad at his stand; it was his fault that he was in this mess anyway. His fault that he couldn’t summon his stand anymore without thinking about Kira. His fault that he couldn’t fight without it. His fault that he didn’t notice the glint of a knife in the hands of one of the high-schoolers. 

… 

“You gonna talk to yourself again, Josuke? Everyone knows you and that other pussy Okuyasu are both crazy!”

“No one to save you now that your knights in shining armour aren’t here?”

Josuke spat out a mouthful of blood as one of the teens came in for a hit. It fucking hurt, but not as much as the burning anger inside him. 

“You fucking take that back! Don’t talk about my friends that way, asshole!”

He growled as he felt another kid come at him with as much vigor as the first one. He could feel the blood dripping from his nose, but he wasn’t going to summon his stand. He couldn’t . He refused to inflict any more damage on anyone in Morioh than stands already have. 

“Too much of a coward to fight back?”

Another blow landed, this time in the dead-centre of his stomach. 

“Take that, you little bitch!” 

…

Memories and words came flooding back to him and he fought the urge to just break down and cry. Everyone was probably pissed at him. If he wasn’t so fucked up, maybe he could have summoned his stand and gotten it over with. Maybe they wouldn’t be here if he did. Maybe he and Koichi and Okuyasu would be playing video games by now and Rohan would be doing whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing this evening. 

He didn't know how long he sat there in those uncomfortable seats breathing in the sharp smelling scent of the hospital waiting room, but he heard fragments of people talking next to him and a hand on his shoulder. 

Blearily opening his eyes to the harsh hospital lights, he looked up and saw Rohan, his face hard. He was probably tired too. They all must be tired at this point. 

“Come on,” he heard Okuyasu’s voice from next to him, “It's our turn.” 

His body moved robotically, his steps like clockwork. He didn’t even know he had moved from his spot until a soft voice shook him out of his thoughts and he realized he was sitting in a dimmed room, the noisiness from the waiting room drowned out as Koichi shut the door behind them. 

“Dr. Ono will be with you in just a few minutes,” he heard a sweet-sounding voice say to them before exiting the room. He was ushered into one of the seats and the static in his mind grew louder and louder the quieter this room got. 

Every minute he spent in here made him want to scream. It reminded him all too well of all the checkups he had to go through to leave the hospital, the way his mom would hug him carefully and exit the room. He knew she was crying on the other side of the door. He didn’t want her to do that again.

“How is everyone doing?” 

A door opened and a young man in a white coat stepped in, his smile way too bright for a hospital. Rohan and the man were talking now, but Josuke could only see their lips moving. The static in his brain and the pounding in his head blocked out any sound until he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. 

“You must be Josuke, correct?”

He was shaken out of his thoughts at the sound of his own name and lifted his head up to see the man in the white coat smiling at him. 

“Why don’t you take a seat over here?”

Taking a breath, he slowly lifted himself up from his chair and onto the small table covered in some kind of paper. 

“It says on your medical records that you were admitted to the hospital a little over nine months ago with a concussion, 2 broken ribs, and put into emergency surgery due to several fatal wounds. Is this correct?” 

At the mention of it, Josuke felt himself start to derail. The explosions, the pain, the scars that he was left with...he put a hand over his mouth and felt his head start to droop. He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to think about anything else.

“We were walking to school and a house exploded from a gas leak,” Koichi finally spoke up, “He took most of the damage.”

“He doesn’t really like talking about it,” Okuyasu added. Josuke was thankful that he didn’t have to do any talking. The doctor seemed to understand where they were coming from and nodded. 

“I see,” he said, setting down his clipboard, “Now why don’t I take a look at your cut so we can start stitching you up?”

“Josuke, what the hell HAPPENED?!”

Stitches didn’t take long, and he luckily didn’t have a concussion. After being put on a ridiculous amount of pain meds and given a couple pieces of paper that told him when to wet the stitches for them to dissolve and when to stop taking the pain meds (Rohan took that from him quickly), a phone was handed to him hastily. He should have known who it would be on the other end. 

“Hey, mom.” 

His mind was loopy from the pain meds and his voice wavered as he spoke, but he knew it was her on the other end. Who else would it be?

“Don’t you ‘hey mom’ me! Tell me why the hell I got a call from the hospital saying you needed stitches!”

“Can’t tell you,” he mumbled in reply. That seemed to aggravate his mother even more and she angrily demanded to know what the hell had happened to her. Even in this serotonin-boosted state, he still felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt when he thought about how much he always worried her. 

“You gotta promise not to cry,” he slurred, slumping forwards in the chair he was sitting in, “Cuz if you cry, I might, too…”

There was silence on the other end before she spoke again. 

“Josuke—honey, I’m just worried about you. I need to know what’s going on. Did you get into another fight?”

“Don’t—don’t cry,” he could already feel his voice starting to crack and he looked away from Koichi and Okuyasu, who were standing to his right. Rohan was signing a couple forms across the room.

“I won't, but we’re talking about this once I get home. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

“Yeah. I feel weird, but I think that’s just the pain meds kicking in.” 

He heard his mother laugh on the other end and Josuke couldn’t help but let out a watery chuckle as well. 

“The earliest train ticket to Morioh I could get was 6am, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. That young man, Rohan was it? He’s going to stay with you three until I’m able to get home.”

Josuke would initially groan at the thought of interacting with Rohan for more than he had to, but he was too exhausted to argue. With the pain medication finally kicking in, the hospital didn’t seem so scary anymore, but he honestly just wanted to go home. 

“I love you. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Yeah,” his voice cracked a bit, “Love you too.” 

The telltale sound of the line going flat signalled to Josuke that his mother had hung up, and he carefully placed the phone back in its place. Koichi and Okuaysu were still standing quietly beside him. 

“Is she...mad?” Okuyasu asked quietly. He shook his head. His head felt weird. 

“Nah. Just worried.” 

Both let out a breath of relief and Josuke laughed. All three of them had the displeasure of seeing an angry Tomoko, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Let’s go,” Rohan said, walking away from the receptionist’s desk with a thin pile of papers and a small bottle of pills. Josuke stumbled a bit as he slowly got out of his chair and Okuyasu stepped next to him, linking arms. 

“I’m fuckin’ tired,” he mumbled into Okuyasu’s shoulder. He laughed and Koichi took him by the hand, slowly leading him out of the waiting room. As soon as the fresh air hit his skin, he immediately felt himself start to relax. The meds must be in full swing by now, he thought. Rohan was walking a few steps in front of them.

“Do you think it's too late to get something to eat?” Koichi asked the green-haired man. Josuke had no idea what time it was, but the way the moon and the stars shone brightly in the sky, he would guess that it was around midnight.

“You know how this damn town is,” Rohan muttered, “Everythings always closed by ten. Don’t you have any food at Josuke’s house?” 

“The hell do you think I was doing before I got beat up?” Josuke slurred tiredly, “All my fuckin’ money is gone and so is the food.” 

They all stumbled over to Rohan’s car, where he opened the trunk and examined the grocery bags sitting in there. Rohan didn’t eat a lot, but at this moment, he really wished that he did. 

“A shit ton of ramen, tea, a fuckin’ pineapple…” Okuyasu examined, “Dude, how do you live like this?” 

“I have my methods,” Rohan slammed the trunk closed, “Get in the car.” 

The ride home was quiet. Josuke felt like someone was opening up his brain and pulling out its content for him to see. Even with whatever strange high he was experiencing, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of emotions after everything that had happened. 

He couldn’t remember much, but he remembered everyone asking him why he didn’t use his stand. Why he didn’t fight back. Why he lost. He wasn’t supposed to lose. But the thought of bringing out Crazy Diamond…

“...I wanted to do it.” 

Koichi and Okuyasu, who he was sitting in between in the backseat, both turned to him in confusion. Had he really said that out loud? 

“Do what?” Koichi asked slowly. Josuke supposed he could deter the conversation away, try to deny it, but his brain wasn’t working right. The words spilled out of him before he could stop himself. 

“I wanted to bring out Crazy Dee and beat the shit out of them, but I just—couldn’t. He’s always there with me and stuff, but I haven’t brought him out in months...I just can’t. It’s like a fucking switch goes off in my brain every time I feel like I should summon him because every damn time I think about it I end up just thinking about—”

He stopped himself before he could say anymore, wrapping his arms protectively around his chest. He just wanted to go home and forget that any of this happened.

“Josuke,” Okuyasu started softly, but Josuke wasn’t listening. His chest felt like it was being crushed, his throat felt like he was swallowing glass.

“—and if I wasn’t such a fucking pussy about it I wouldn’t even have these fucking stitches! It’s just another disgusting scar I have to hide—” his breath hitched as he kept going, “—and they kept saying shit—and I didn’t wanna get hurt again but I couldn’t bring him out—”

He couldn’t breathe. He was well aware of how heavy he was breathing, but there was nothing he could do about it. He felt so fucking tired, he didn’t care anymore. He choked on his words and felt a warmth surround him on both sides as he continued to pour his heart out. 

“I don’t wanna end up like him—” he let out a wet-sounding sob, finally feeling the tears in his eyes start to drip down his face, “I don’t wanna—hurt people—” 

He hiccuped as another strangled sob overtook him, and he finally hunched forward, sniffling as he let the tears drip messily down his face. He didn’t know how long he sat there sniveling before a warming hand brought up. He opened his watery eyes to find his head against Okuyasu’s chest, Koichi’s hand in his hair.

“Your scars aren’t disgusting, bro,” Okuasyu’s soft voice was in his ear and Josuke couldn’t help but cry a bit harder, “They look super cool. And this one’s gonna look real cool, too.”

“It’s—it’s not true though,” Josuke whimpered back, “You can say that, but if anyone were to see, people like the kids that fought me—” 

Koichi felt his stomach drop. “Josuke, what did those kids say to you earlier?” 

He angrily wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, his breath uneven. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it was true.”

“So why should you listen to them about your scars?” Oku asked determinedly. Josuke didn’t answer, just sniffled and let his friend hold him. He sat there a long time before he heard a sigh come from the front seat.

“You’re not going to end up like Kira.”

Josuke blinked in surprise at that statement. 

“You don’t...hurt people,” Rohan sounded awkward like he didn’t exactly know what he was saying, “As much as I don’t wanna say this, you’re good, Josuke. You’re not Kira. It's not your stand that makes you evil. It's your heart.”

They were all pretty surprised at what they were hearing. It might have been the nicest thing Rohan has said to anyone. They were about to speak up, but the green-haired man beat them to it. 

“I didn’t say any of that,” Rohan grumbled, “This conversation never happened.”

He didn’t use Heaven’s Door to make them forget, though.

The car pulled into the driveway of Josuke’s house, and Koichi and Okuyasu helped him inside while Rohan grabbed whatever he had left in the trunk. He was still sniffling by the time they were all situated on the couch, not really knowing what to say. Rohan scoffed and got up. 

“I’m making ramen. Being around you people always gives me a headache.” 

Everyone rolled their eyes, but they all knew that he was lying. After all he had done tonight, it was hard to believe that Rohan didn’t care about them just a little bit. The trio had made their way into Josuke’s room and were playing video games by the time Rohan emerged with four bowls of steaming noodles. 

“We’re not telling your mom that we ate in here,” he muttered, setting the bowls down and sitting stiffly on the edge of Josuke’s bed, “This stuff was supposed to last me for the next two days, by the way. I hope you’re happy.” 

“Very happy,” Josuke snickered. Okuyasu laughed and grabbed a bowl of his own, pausing the game with his controller and sitting back. 

“Man, that was a wild day, huh?” 

“No kidding,” Koichi snorted.

Idle banter continued on under the dimmed lights of Josuke’s bedroom, and he felt his eyes start to close. His stitches hurt, and so did the bruise forming beside his eye, but he didn’t feel as bad as he should. A warming feeling came over him, listening to his friends— and his not-friend— talk softly beside him. 

Maybe he felt like shit now, but cheap noodles and good company always seemed to make things just a little bit better.