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“Can you understand the game?”
Jotaro takes a drag of his pipe, deliberately taking his time in letting out the smoke in his lungs, before looking at the man addressing him. It’s a blond man with blue eyes and a sly smile that is doing a very poor job in hiding the weariness resting in his bones. Hol Horse is not exactly a stranger, but not really an ally. He’s just another stupid man, with his own stupid desires and the consequences of his own stupid choices. Jotaro is not surprised to see him there. Greed is a fickle thing, it loves no one, and happy are the ones who understand that.
Hol Horse is not a happy man.
But, then again, Jotaro isn’t either.
“Liar’s Dice. Used to play with a friend.”
“Oh? And where did the son of the crown find such a friend?”
Jotaro Joestar is not surprised that he’s recognized. It would take a blind and deaf man to not recognize the next in line for the throne after his Grandfather made sure to announce his existence to the world. All Jotaro had wanted was to live his life in freedom, but the duty forced upon him does not like to be ignored, and in three months, as soon as he completed twenty summers, Jotaro will have no choice but to carry that duty as the only legitimate heir.
“Same place we all find everything.”
The Sea.
Jotaro’s very first love.
Ever since he was a child, Jotaro had loved the blue vastness beyond the limits of the Kingdom. As he grew older, he fell deeper. He had time and time again wished to be able to go to the sea, to be able to lose himself in the waves, to live with only the sky and the ocean as company.
The wonder, the peace, the freedom.
But he’s fated to stay on land.
And that is why he had ran away with the promise of returning only when the coronation draws near enough that he can’t ignore it anymore.
He can always simply leave and let his cousin— uncle, really, because his Grandfather sometimes lacks a brain—take over. But Jotaro knows it’s selfish. It’d be the same as throwing the entire Royal Family to the wolves—and they already can hear the snapping of the wolves teeth thanks, again, to the late King’s inability to be faithful— and Jotaro may not care much about the Kingdom, but he does care fiercely for his family.
So he plans on returning, he does, however he refuses to do so alone.
In his escapade—is it really an escape when he gets his mother’s blessing before leaving?—, Jotaro has found many things and met many people. He has done many things. He has learned many things.
Like how to play betting games.
“What are you betting?”
“What we have left.” Hol Horse shrugs, crossing his arms in front of his dirty shirt with a resigned expression. “Years of service and our own souls.”
Maybe in another reality, Jotaro would’ve felt pity for the man, and tried to take him away from the misery grave he had dug, but right now he feels only grim understanding. He has a reason to be here, and he is not going to allow anything to distract him.
“I challenge Dio Brando.”
“Have you lost your—”
“And I accept.”
There he is. The bane of the Joestar Family’s existence. Dio Brando, the pirate many thought legend and many affirmed nightmare. His eyes are sharp, burning red with disdain behind blonde bangs. The smirk on his face makes Jotaro’s skin crawl. He carries himself like royalty, shoulders square and suave movements. The expensive hat sitting atop his head is ridiculous, but complements the outfit of its capitan very well.
Jotaro has never met the man before, but he already hates him.
“I didn’t expect to find a Joestar in my ship, much less one I’ve never met before.”
With a flourish, the man presents the short table the crew is using, walking to it with inhuman grace as the men around him scurry around. Like a gracious host, he prepares the game, putting a cup and five dice to each player, and gestures to the bench opposite to the one he sits, looking at the prince with palpable amusement.
“But since you are here, and so willing to play a game, it’s only fair I oblige, isn’t it?”
Jotaro does not hesitate to approach, sitting down on the bench offered. He tries to remember everything he has ever been told about the one sitting in front of him. Dio is prideful, sinfully so, but while losing would be a hit to his pride, being a bad loser will be even bigger of an offence.
So as long as Jotaro wins, he should be fine.
“So, what are we betting, JoJo?”
As long as he wins without punching the aggravating blond.
“Souls. If you win, I’ll give you mine.”
Dio’s eyes gleam with interest. This is a man who has tried to put his hands in everything the Joestar Family have ever loved ever since he met Jonathan Joestar, a century ago. The temptation of actually having a Joestar is certainly appealing. Appealing enough for Dio to consider whatever bargain Jotaro my come with.
“And if you win?”
“You return Kakyoin Noriaki to me.”
“Ah, yes, I thought that was what you were going to ask for.” Dio laughs. “It’s been quite the story around these seas, you know? The prince of the great Kingdom and his unexpected friendship with a mermaid.”
Dio inclines his body to get a closer look at Jotaro.
“With my favorite mermaid.”
“His favorite” Jotaro’s ass. Noriaki had nothing to say about Dio but detrimental words, lavender eyes darkened with brewing storms, disdain dripping from her mouth like poison. Dio had taken her as a prize after someone—some disgusting piece of putrid excrement who once had dared call her “friend”—had bet her life and lost, and now Jotaro is determined to have her back.
He refuses to return home without her.
He had promised her a life on the land she had marvelled at since very young, a life by his side and within his family, a life without loneliness, and Jotaro is a man of his word.
“You know, it’s a bit unfair. No matter the outcome, you two will end up together.”
“If I lose, you’ll have both of us,” Jotaro answers, knowing Dio already knows that, “So? Deal?”
“Deal,” Dio agrees.
Both men grab the cups and the dice. They are in synchrony as they put the dice in their cup, shaking it a bit to let the dice roll before slamming it on the table upside down. Jotaro feels his heart speed up, raising the cup he’s holding just enough to peek inside.
He takes a breath.
“Four sixes.”