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Chapter Text

“Momma! Momma!”

This is a story about a breaking curse. One that has existed for countless generations, and continues to loom within the towering cliffs that have encased its dwelling.

The story begins in a schoolyard, which had been converted into a scene from the arctic by a ravaging blizzard and its army of snowfall. The children of the school were frolicking at recess, tripping over themselves and crunching the snow into knee-high trenches, or scraping off the top layers into dense spheres being rolled into the segments of snowmen.

Among their ranks was a meek little boy 10 years of age, whose sleeves were being wet by the flakes he made fly up rolling up a snowball when he was distracted by the shocking sight of his own mother, having appeared in the midst of the playground, wearing a hood shadowing her face.

“Momma, what are you doing at school?” he skipped up to her, perplexed at the way the sun refused to shine on her features, no matter how close he got.

Her lips, which looked dry as sand, parted and hissed out “Josuke…”

This made his heart pensive, for this name he was scarcely called, usually only by his father. His mother would only forgo using a more affectionate reading when she was scolding him.

A short distance away, two other boys, hatted and curly haired, watched the lad, perplexed. “Why’s that kid talking to himself?” one of them, new at school and tall and broad for his age, asked.

His shorter, pudgier compatriot chimed in. “Don’t pay him any mind. That’s JoJo, he’s always off rambling at shadows,” he explained, observing the small boy staring up at nothing.

“Is something like, wrong with him?” the new boy asked for elaboration, voice flavored with the idea of sympathy, which his friend scoffed at.

“You shouldn’t give a damn! He’s the only son of the Higashikata Family.”

“‘Higashikata?’ Like the fruit sellers?”

“Fruits?!” the short kid laughed. “Listen, you’re new in town, right? So let me tell you, the Higashikata Family are the smuggest, richest bastards from here to Fukushima. I hate rich people to begin with, but that family are the worst of the worst.” He began to speak of scandal, whispering through his cupped hand. “They say that their ancestors sold their souls to evil spirits in order to get wealth, so now they’re haunted.”

“Huh? There’s no way a story like that is true!” the larger boy dismissed.

“Take it from me, this city is full of people and places that are cursed, and nobody moreso than the Higashikata Family…”

JoJo's mother spoke to him again, as her hands finally pulled away the hood obscuring her maternal gaze. “Josuke… Higashikata… Your family is a blight on this world.”

Her voice was soulless, emotions absent as if the words were composed of snippets of other things she had said. The unobscuring of her face was suited for the same uncanny feeling, her expression blank and her eyes glossy. “I will return you all… to the Earth…”

The entire world around JoJo raptured apart. His vision was consumed by a thunderclap of dark, psychedelic colors. He felt himself falling through a spiraling vortex, forsaken by all his surroundings except for the spectre of his mother, who fell beneath him as her skin crumbled apart. Under it was no flesh or blood, but the visage of a skull which was aglow with an unnatural neon blue.

The fake of his mother’s form seized as they plummeted, suddenly bursting open from the middle into shards of dissolving rock. Their grains fell into the eye of the lysergic storm onto the long fingers of grasping hands that had formed themselves out of ghostly streaks, arms extending into an infinitely black void.

JoJo blinked, and found himself back in the snowy schoolyard, standing alone. Elbows feeling stiff as he flexed them, he looked at his hands in disbelief at the vision he had just been through.

A sliver of his wrist poked through between his glove and the end of his sleeve, his eyes being caught the unnatural presence of grey on his skin.

He ripped his glove off, watching the color and softness be drained from his skin, stone crawling up and down his body like the water of a flowing river.

A minute later, he collapsed head first into the snow, petrification robbing him of even the chance to shut his eyes.

His state being dreadfully out of the grasp of the school nurse, JoJo had been lifted by ambulance to a small hospital built the previous summer in cooperation with the local university. He was laid down in a drearily beige room, a solemn looking doctor standing beside him and looking towards the door as it opened inwards.

Entering was a woman of mature countenance. She wore flared jeans and a fine fabric shirt adorned with a flurry of colorful flowers, while her hair was neatly done up with a lone braid displayed as the crown of a curling bob.

“Mrs. Higashikata.” The doctor addressed her, yet he was granted no entry in her mind as she walked straight towards the boy, her son, lying encased in horror.

“He’s coming home,” she said, distantly and matter-of-fact. Her hands moved like serpents under his covers and lifted him by his stiff neck and knees.

“We phoned your husband, ma’am, and-” the doctor kept talking, but was silenced by her stare, which grabbed him by the tongue.

She was wearing a mask of layered, wreathing despair which the doctor has only previously seen portrayed by the master strokes of a Renaissance artist.

“Please ma’am, while you - as Josuke’s mother - are entitled to have him released against medical advice, I strongly enco-”

She cut him off again, “There are plenty of people to deal with what I’m doing.” She took a blink which lasted several seconds, which she spent sharply inhaling through her nose.

“You’re taking him back to your family’s home?”

She looked out the window. “Something like that; We need to go now. Now,” she emphasized, willfully marching out the door, aura too chilling to be stopped.

“Momma? Momma, what’s going on?” It was freezing cold outside; All he could see with the limited light peering into the darkest of wherever he was was meters of thick, bitter snow. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the big pine tree! Isn’t that so cool, JoJo? We’re inside that tree that's split in half! Bet you never thought it was big enough to climb inside of, but there’s a whole big cave underneath the shrine box!”

“Mom, what happened?" The boy's body felt as though it was weighed down by rocks scraping against each other and turning into a pile of fine grain which clouded up his mind. "I don’t remember, I was at school, wasn’t I? I thought I saw you at recess, but then-”

“Shhh. It’s okay sweetie, you’re gonna be okay soon," his mother reassured him, wrapped in a heavy winter jacket and a hat that shadowed her eyes. You could hear the tears welling in her eyes in the cadence of her words.

“Mom!” JoJo’s voice shook as the ground surrounding them did. “We have to go back inside! There’s an earthquake!”

The frost littered dirt beneath them was indeed trembling, but this was no earthquake.

“Honey, you know your invisible friend, right? The Puzzle Goblin? He’ll protect you.” She gazed longingly into the further depths of the pine tree’s underground cavity, towards what stood at the end of the small tunnel. “It can’t hurt you if you have one,” she said to nobody.

The boy screamed in pain as his leg lit on fire with a sensation of something biting deep, deep into it.

“Don’t worry, it can’t hurt you! It can’t hurt you!” His mother screamed at him as she fell to her knees bawling.

“JoJo, I love you.”

The pressure on the boy’s leg vanished as he was left only the airy stings of a bite mark.

Clumps of earth started piling in around them, shouting out the little light he had to see with. In what he assumed would be his last moments of thought, JoJo felt confusion, for being buried was making him feel lighter than he had for the last year.

JoJo awoke on the surface, and the first thing he noticed was the way the snow around him had melted. He stood in the shadow of a stone pillar that was built into the base of Twin Pine Trees which stood on the grounds of his family’s home. He reached around it in hopes of finding a way inside of the obelisk, dazed as to whether or not what he had just experienced was dreamed. He was distracted away from the prospect of the secret passage a la Narnina by the sudden realization of just how good he felt, as though the weight of 100 years was lifted from his body and mind in equal measure.

“Momma?”

The empty fields around that tree were shaken by his Hell-worthy scream, as he found his mother, dead, body completely stiff and hardened like stone.

Over a hundred people had been congregated into a legion of black and mourning who stood before the off-white marble mausoleum which housed the fallen of the Higashikata Family. A new tomb had been added to its collection of the departed, engraved simply with “Tomoko Higashikata | 1932-1971”.

JoJo stood outside, alone in the snow, much the same as the moment of his salvation at the cost of his mother’s death, huddled in the shadows of stone.

The crinkle of powdered snowflakes alerted him to look up as a new shadow joined the eclipse: His father appeared standing over him. He seemed to carry with him a wind swirling around his neck, blowing a muffler which popped its pattern of blue and orange sharply against his pitch suit, donned to shield him from the cold alongside a swamp green bomber hat he was scarcely seen without.

“Josuke, there you are.” He placed his hand on his boy’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard, son, but-”

“Jun told me everything,” he interrupted - an action which had become out-of-character for him - as his mind flashed through the bitter words of his sister, who was one year younger and one head taller than he. “We told everybody that mom died because of a heart attack, but that’s all a lie isn’t it? She’s dead because of me.”

His father looked at him, managing the impossible feat of matching the heartbreak in his eyes. “Josuke… Listen to me. Your sister, she doesn’t understand what she’s talking about. Nobody could understand what you’re going through right now…” he tugged down the hat over his eyes, leaving them replaced by a knitted bunch of grapes patched onto the middle. “Save for me, son. I experienced the same that you are right now, when I was your age. And before me was your grandfather, and even his father before him, all of us have had somebody taken by the Rock Syndrome.”

“What you are is a Higashikata, one set to inherit fortune and power over this city. However with it comes a Curse, that your thriving and survival must come at the cost of another. That is the burden that has haunted our name for hundreds of years.”

The Curse sleeps for twenty years, and recurs.

The year is now 2011, and the city of Morioh has been ravaged by the Great East Japan Earthquake. Many of its 47,000 inhabitants are left dead, injured, or homeless. Not as many as its counterparts though; Instead of the ruins of collapsed buildings shaking apart and home-demolishing floods pouring in from the Pacific, Morioh had a unique problem. No first responder, fireman, politician, or geologist was quite prepared for finding block upon block of houses completely safe from the devastation, high up on cliffs.

Cliffs which had never been there before.

Children called them the Wall Eyes, named for the deposits in their grainy sides which seemed like twisted faces staring back at you. They were sections of ground which had simply risen up, extending into mounds and hills within seconds while the rest of Japan was torn apart by devastating but scientifically normal seismic activity. They ripped apart roads so no supplies could come in, burst power and water lines which left people with a blackout of utilities. But still, they were safe, and so were their homes.

They all curved outwards towards the sea, as if patiently waiting to guard the people of Morioh once again against some calamity from the ocean.

The Curse continues to sleep within them, on the verge of waking up. Here you will find JoJolion, the epic of breaking it.

Chapter Text

Yasuho Hirose’s life was awful. She didn’t like to whine, but sometimes she felt like that statement had to be the objective truth. On paper, her life seemed like a piece of teenage girl escapist fiction: She - a frumpy, sweater vest wearing girl with kind of an egg-shaped head - had two separate boys fighting over her.

The bad thing came in that rather than two separate gorgeous heartthrobs who both possessed the abs of a Roman God, those two boys were Toru Yamagishi and Joshu Higashikata .

The latter one was her present concern.

Joshu was a nice boy, Yasuho really thought so; He was pretty smart too, but he was just such a creep sometimes.

Yasuho didn’t think it was his fault, per se. His dad and brother had no respect for him, and his sisters treated him like a joke too. It didn’t surprise Yasuho that Joshu got over-attached to her, given she was probably the one person in his life who regularly treated him with any dignity. However she still shouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of him not knowing how to act around someone.

They had been friends since high school. His family owned a large fruit orchard with a luxurious house he was eager to brag about. They had kissed once, when they were 16, and Joshu never got over it. He called her “little strawberry” (why) and always made remarks about how tight her skirts look on her (creep) and whether it was directly his fault or indirectly his fault, his entire family seemed to be under the impression that they were dating.

Also he had the hair of a horse.

“It’s so unfair!” with rapid pace Yasuho typed in the notes of her phone, which was her execution of a diary; As a matter of fact, to her the phone was a full-fledged confidant, as she religiously reported to it all the way from a crappy flip-phone she had in middle school to her current Samsung Galaxy Bud, a state-of-the-art model which she had worked four months degrading herself at a fast food counter to buy. “I came out to Lover’s Cape to relax after class - which was way way too early today - and now Joshu shows up lurking about! I mean, I don’t hate him or anything, but I’m SOOOOO tired and he will talk to me for SOOOOO long. I don’t think he’s noticed me yet…”

Yasuho’s head panned around her surroundings. “Mmmmmmm” she smashed her thumb down on the corner of her keyboard in contemplation, “the only way out without going by him is to walk behind the Wall Eyes. Those things creep me out really bad, but then again, so does Joshu.” She looked across the ominous mounds of dirt, every little hole across them sending their own tingle up her spine. As a kid she constantly read about stories of ghosts and demons from around the city, and the Wall Eyes felt like they were hiding each and every one inside.

“Okay! I made up my mind,” she told her phone screen. “I’m just gonna close my eyes, run behind the Wall Eyes, and then I’ll be back to the main road in no time. Just a few minutes, that’s all!” The words went dark as she shut her dear phone off and clutched it hard.

Yasuho took a deep breath, jumped in place, and slapped herself on the cheeks. “Okay!” she shouted out loud, before covering her mouth and remembering the goal was not to draw attention to her. “Here we go,” she said much more quietly.

She sprinted for about 40 seconds, then tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Youch… ” she whined, sitting up and rubbing her head, blinking her eyes open to examine what she fell over. She screamed in fright and sprang backwards, as the culprit was not a rock or log, but a full grown man laying on the ground, buck naked.

Now this also was starting to sound like a book she once read in middle school that was probably a little too adult to have been in the school library, but as it turns out stumbling across a naked stranger is a lot worse in real life.

He was absolutely covered in dirt, like he had been born in a coal mine and never left until now. His skin tone was uneven across his chest and face, and he had kind of a big overbite. His two defining features though, were the dixie cup hat he was wearing, and the giant red star on his shoulder. Yasuho thought it was body paint at first, but it definitely seemed to be imprinted on his skin, more like a scar or a birthmark than a tattoo. Pressingly, it was surrounded by the deep, blood-oozing imprint of a set of sharp teeth.

Those two, that is, and -

“F-f-f-four!” Yasuho shouted, her face getting redder with each stutter before she covered her mouth out of shock. “Don’t say that Yasuho…” she chastised herself.

Four came from her humiliating quickness to stare at his crotch in all its glory. It was his… balls. Nuts, nads, nards, knackers, family jewels. Whatever you called a guy’s testicles he had four of them. Four! One dick but four balls! In a 2x2 configuration, like one of the little LEGO bricks.

“‘Yassyho’?” the man asked, parroting through her name with eyes glazed over and looking at the clouds instead of her. His speech was slurred and nasally, and Yasuho likened it to a human chipmunk. “I can’t seem to remember very many words right now, but ‘yassyho’ certainly isn’t one of them,” he turned to look at her, revealing eyes which were each split between blue and green, mirrored to each other, “Is that your name?”

“Uh, yeah, my name’s- Ah! Nothing! Nothing!” Yasuho huddled herself in arms and tried to shake some sense into herself. “ Come on Yasuho! ‘Don’t talk to naked dirt men’ should be a pretty obvious rule to follow! ”

“Your name is Nothing?” the man returned to looking at the sky. “I suppose that must be the case for me as well…”

Come to think of it, this was a pretty bad situation to be in to begin with. A best case scenario was that this dude’s girlfriend would come running out and beat her with a stick for staring at her boyfriend’s man meat. Worse cases included drugs, diseases, and some things which Yasuho’s mind sought to close out.

Trembling to her feet, Yasuho turned her phone back on, pleased to realize it had made it through the fall without leaving her palm. She was, however, still a bit bewildered at the screen, which had opened not to her notes like she left it, but her gallery. A new photo had appeared at the top row, taken that very minute. It was a zoom-in on dirt boy’s birthmark, except overlaying it was a translucent bubble floating closer to the frame, itself adorned with a star similar to the birthmark in color but unalike in its asymmetry.

Feeling more and more Perturbed each second, Yasuho tapped for her home screen followed by her contacts, slamming her thumb to call the bluntly labeled “mom” at the top.

Five rings, followed by a voicemail.

Yasuho growled in frustration, “Darn it mom!”

“‘Mom’... Yes you have a mother don’t you?” the man kept talking, words shaky like a fawn standing up for the first time. “And yet, I’m afraid that I don’t seem to.”

A bead of sweat dripped down Yasuho’s face. “Alright, enough of this, ” she decided internally. “I’m calling the cops. ”

“119, are you calling for a fire or an ambulance?”

119? She had meant to call the police, how had she hit 9 instead of 0? In any case, perhaps it was more reasonable to get this man to hospital instead of jail, given that - strange and naked as he was - he hadn’t exactly done anything wrong to her.

“Well, I suppose an ambulance,” Yasuho spoke, clearing her throat. “My name is Yasuho Hirose. I’m at the Wall Eyes around Lover’s Cape, and I’ve come across a naked man laying in the dirt. He seems like he’s injured and delirious.”

“Injured how?”

“Well, I can’t really get a good look at him, he’s really covered in dirt, but there’s a giant bite mark on his shoulder.”

“A bite mark? What sort of bite mark?”

“Well, this sounds really crazy I know, but,” Yasuho paused to look at it one more time, trying to convince herself otherwise, “it seems like they’re from a person, not any sort of animal. They’re fresh too.”

“Okay dear, we’re going to-”

Yasuho had stopped listening to the EMS responder as she picked up on the sound of hurried footsteps emerging from the direction she came from.

“Hey! Is everyone alright over he- Yasuho?!”

And now, her efforts had all been for naught, as Joshu Higashikata had arrived on the scene, unmistakable in his unique street fashion with cloth leaf decorated pants, brown arrow shoulder pins, and maroon collared shirt with disconnected but matching wristbands; Not to mention the unironic bowtie.

His beady, sunken eyes surveyed the situation, wavering with energy as he looked at Yasuho standing flustered over a naked man.

“H-hey!” he shouted in a best effort at sounding tough. Picking up a big rock and jogging into action, he shouted “Get away from her!”

“Joshu cut it out!” Yasuho intervened, fearful of the chaotic energy he was trying to infuse into an already too-weird situation. “He didn’t do anything!”

Joshu stopped in his tracks. “Oh.” His arm went limp, tapping his pointed stone against his hip. “Wait then, does that mean-?” he started squealing.

“I didn’t do anything either!” Yasuho tried to insist, but there was no quelling Joshu once he started one of his tirades.

“The world may not have room for Joshu Higashikata, but if I’m getting thrown out of it, you’re coming with me!” he shouted, rock lifted above his head with all his might as he charged the naked man.

The latter, for his part, turned to look at Joshu with mild curiosity. With a furrow of his brow, Yasuho watched Joshu suddenly have all the wind knocked out of him, only having a split-second to barrel over before he was blown backwards to the ground, as if slammed by an invisible wrecking ball.

Yasuho had seen many strange behaviors from Joshu before, but this one was particularly troubling to parse. It was then that the naked sailor took it upon himself to stand up. Soil flaking off him like a snowstorm, he raised his hand towards the sun. Just as it stopped climbing the sky, it was dragged back down. The ground he stood on abruptly broke under his weight, earth being sucked into a sinkhole like dinner shoveled into the maw of a great beast. Within a blink he was waist deep in the Earth.

Yasuho’s ears filled with ringing, Joshu’s groveling and the prompts of dispatcher on her phone equally fading out from her senses. She quivered, watching the man sink away with inexplicable remorse.

She moved on instinct, not thinking as she jet her hands out and wrapped them around the man’s wrist, straining against her own legs as she heaved him forward out of the vortex of dirt.

In that moment she was witness to another place, outside of time and beyond all space. She stood in a hallway stretching infinitely, lined forever with doors which all looked the same: Same shape, size, and color. They were all sealed, saved for one. She was there for a second but walked for eternity, navigating the endless doors until she came across another trapped with her. A violet haired man shadowed in a hood, crystal clear but indistinguishable all at the same time. He stood before one door in particular. At his feet were scratches on the floor, gradual wear faded in by what could only be this door swinging open and shut. These traces were the proof of going beyond.

Yasuho was snapped back to herself by a backwards fall onto her tush, the naked sailor having fallen prone on top of her, making her blush as his hat fell into her hands.

She breathed, “Who are you?”

The man took his finger to his chin, switching glances between the hat in Yasuho’s hands and the hole in the ground he had been fished out of.

“I don’t know…” he confessed. “It’s a mystery to me whether I even came from the land or came from the sea.”

Chapter Text

Is there such a smell as “sterile”? If so, this room had it.

He didn’t know who he was or how he got where he was. Nothing. The spot in his brain where his memories were supposed to be, his life experiences - joy, sadness, anger, disgust, fear, anything - null and void.

He knew this was a hospital though. He didn’t know why he knew, he couldn’t remember ever being to a hospital, but he felt certain he had many times.

There were Eurasian jays flocking outside his window, two of them. One was thirty four-and-a-half centimetres long, but the other was only thirty four even, just barely off from being two of a perfect pair. Clinging onto the window sill was a four-point-three centimetre brush-footed butterfly.

How blissful it must be to be a bird or a butterfly. They don’t need to worry about their memories, all they’re concerned with is survival.

But at the same time, that survival is brought to them by instinct.

“What is ‘instinct’?”, he wondered. “Is it a memory granted to things by their past? Not their past as in the individual, but the collective lifetimes of their ancestors surviving through unpredictable disaster brought down into their core being. Or is it perhaps a power within nature itself that they felt? Something that lurks in the Earth, hidden until it reveals itself to life which inhabits it.”

He distracted himself from the outside glinting in through the window and turned into the hallway outside his room. There he saw her: Yasuho Hirose, the one person he knew, his sole anchor to the world. She was talking to a man shorter than her by about four centimetres; Yasuho was one hundred sixty six centimetres tall, so her companion was one-sixty-two give or take, including his disturbingly tall hair.

Yasuho entered the room, and paced around it looking for the man she had saved, but he was nowhere to be found. That is until his gapped teeth popped up to her from between his mattress and the hospital bed frame.

“What the heck!?” she jumped back in surprise.

“Hi,” was the only answer he could provide.

“I’m sorry,” Yasuho said as she sheepishly scooped up the box she had dropped on the floor in her fright. “You just surprised me, that's all.” She took a second to tilt her head and pout towards him. “What are you doing?”

He seemed confused. “Laying down, of course. They told me not to leave, and I don’t know what I would do if I could anyways, so there’s not anything else to do.”

“No I mean, why are you under the mattress?”

“You sleep on top? However do you put pressure on yourself then?” Yasuho thought he might’ve been dickishly messing with her, but he seemed actually confused.

“Well uh, nevermind. I came by with a gift, even though I’m really supposed to be here to see Joshu,” she caught herself positing her diary-esque thoughts out loud with no context, “He’s the guy who tried to beat you up.” Yasuho for a second wanted to ask how exactly it was that Joshu got knocked out with no apparent cause, but her heart jumped at the chance to clear up something else. “He’s not actually my boyfriend, by the way, he’s just a kid I’ve gone to school with for years. He takes sociology at my university, which is ironic because he has no social skills. Then again no one in that class does.” Yasuho was blushing for some reason. “Anyways he’s fine now so I came to see you!”

The Wall Eye Man, as Yasuho had internally dubbed him, looked up at her with the joy-infused gaze of a dog let out of its kennel after his owner returned from a long day away.

“I’m very thankful to see you,” he calmly explained with an eager bow. “After all, you saved me from falling into the dirt before.”

“Oh, no biggie,” Yasuho waved her hand, trying to conceal how she somehow felt that it was, in fact, a biggie. “Hey so, who are you anyways?” Yasuho asked him, shifting him into the elephant in the room.

“I was talking to my-” Yasuho caught herself, not wanting to mention Toru around him for some reason, “uh, friend out there, he’s an intern here, and he told me the police can’t find anything about you. They thought you’d be one of the missing people from the earthquake, but none of your DNA, fingerprints, or dental records match up with any reported cases. He said there weren’t any shipwrecks either. So, do you seriously not remember anything?”

“Nothing,” he bluntly said, before retracting a bit. “Well, I can read, in Japanese and English, and can tie my shoes too.” He was strangely proud of this last point, once again like a cute dog, Yasuho thought.

“That over there is water in a pitcher,” he pointed towards what was in fact a water pitcher. “I know that Ieyasu founded the Tokugawa Shogunate, and that Edison stole the light bulb from Tesla. But no, I don’t have any memories of myself. I don’t know my name, if I was a sailor, my favorite movie or what I think the best flower is. The only thing I know, is you.”

He sprang forward and hugged Yasuho, nuzzling the crown of her crayon blue hair. He quickly took notice of the gift box Yasuho was carrying with her.

“What are these?” he asked as he slid open the box and held up one of the dumpling treats inside.

“They’re the most legendary of all Morioh confections,” Yasuho explained, waving her arm in the air to incorporate a sense of awe for him. “Sesame seed honey dango.”

The Wall Eye Man took one of the treats and chomped right into it, spraying the filling inside all over himself.

“No no!” Yasuho said as she grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped the cream filling off of him. “You have to bite into them with your back teeth! Especially when you have front teeth that are all gappy like yours.”

The Wall Eye Man, for his part, only half listened to this and kept tearing through dango, exclaiming how delicious they are along the way. The sheer joy in his eyes made Yasuho realize this was likely the first happy thing that had happened to him since he ended up in the ground.

She gave him his first happy memory.

“What a shame,” he looked down pensively, “I haven’t anything to gift in return.” He stared past her, through the door to his room.

“Hold still,” he asked her, pulling her eyes shut with one hand and grabbing her wrist with the other. After a few seconds of this embrace, she felt a tickle on her scalp as the man let go of her.

Her fingers went to the top of her head, where they found themselves crumpling the delicate surface of what she pulled down to discover was a carnation, vividly red like a sunset.

“Wha- How’d you get this?” Yasuho spun its stem in her fingers, pulling out of his hug and happening to throw a glance behind her.

Just outside his room, she caught a glimpse of a passing woman carrying a bouquet, stuffed with flowers just the same as the one he had just pinned to her.

“Right so,” Yasuho decided to take her usual approach and just entirely ignore the high strangeness of what just happened, “What about your hat?” she asked, producing the red-rimmed emerald cap from her pocket and fluffing it back out. “I’ve been holding onto it since I found you, where’d it come from?”

The nameless man pulled his Dixie hat from Yasuho’s hand and donned it, making her realize it was actually a beret with the brim mistakenly folded upwards. She declined telling him to fold it back the right way, since it being inside out made it easier to see the tag anyways.

It was an SBR brand, started by some rich guy in America 100 years ago. Assuming it wasn't a bootleg, there was only one place in Morioh which would sell such a thing.

“Hey, I actually know where this came from, probably. That brand has an outlet store, I’ll go ask about it for you.”

“No,” The Wall Eye Man stood firm. “This is something I need to investigate myself.”

“But you said they won’t let you leave,” Yasuho reminded him. “I know you’re not that type of guy, but it seems they’re kind of finding you suspicious because of what happened to Joshu.”

The Wall Eye Man shushed her. “The elevator is 21 metres away from this room, Yasuho, and the next elevator arrives in 65 seconds.”

Then Yasuho saw it, what she could only see on her phone’s photo before: A bubble. A full soap bubble, emerging from his star shaped birthmark, floating through the air. What she didn't see, what she yet could not see, was that they had company in the room. A spectral sight, only looking like another person in terms of general shape, was the source of the bubbles. It was taller than the man, with a bald head covered in sleek, metallic blue skin, buttoned with two beady eyes and a vertical slit going down the length of its body, topped off with two horn-like ears jutting out of its head and ending in stars. Its torso was giant and heart shaped, with star-studded shoulder pads and the vertical slit forming into an anchor, leading down to skinny metal frames for its torso, arms, and legs, adorned along the joints with wires and spikes sticking out.

“That woman 7 metres in front of my room, she’s a cop, the one who’s been assigned to watch me. She showed me her badge, which is in her shirt’s pocket.”

Yasuho watched as the bubble silently floated out of the room with precision through the woman’s shirt and coming out the other side, her police badge contained inside, and flew wistfully down the hall.

“How… How can you do that?” Yasuho felt like that was an underwhelming way to express her disbelief at what she just witnessed, but no other turn of phrase could come to her mouth.

“You can’t? Poor girl,” he said as he confidently walked down the hall. Yasuho tailed him at as much of a distance as she could get as the cop tried to stop him again.

“I want the proof that you have the right to keep me here.” He spoke angrily, but not in a shout. “Show me your badge.”

As planned, the woman discovered her badge missing in action.

“That’s what I thought. You probably came here after getting loose from the psyche ward, hm? Or are you just desperate for attention?”

Yasuho was pretty taken aback at how cold and awful he was acting. This from the same guy who four minutes ago didn’t understand how to eat a filled dumpling?

“Come on, Yasuho,” he invited as he brushed past the woman onto the elevator. It had opened in 65 seconds, just as he had predicted.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but she went with him.

Only a couple rooms away, the whole affair had been bitterly watched by Joshu, who was laying in a hospital bed recovering from his inexplicable injury. He insisted it was assault, but none of his family seemed interested in believing him.

“Damn it dad! She went with him! The fucking naked dirt guy!? My little strawberry whisked away from me at his hands! Unbelievable!”

There was a man in Joshu's room with him: His father who he was trying to vent to, but he was only half-listening, more so just acknowledging the concept of Joshu speaking rather than actually engaging in a conversation.

“And I’m stuck being tended to by that ex-boyfriend of hers with the Jiffy Pop hair! Who thinks that looks good?” The irony of Joshu, who’s hair was a vertical roof slanting over an otherwise bald head, complaining about someone’s hairstyle was lost on him.

“Even worse is that bite mark on my ankle. How’d I get that anyways? It itches like hell. What kind of animal would have made something like that?” Joshu pondered for a second, but then disregarded the thought with a happy realization. “Hey, that box of dango she got for him, it was only an eight pack! She gave me sixteen! She does still love me more!”

Joshu clutched that box of dango like it was his lover, not daring to indulge in it until he had been discharged.

“Do you remember coming to this part of town? Maybe you’ve seen one of these storefronts before?”

“No, I really don’t.”

Yasuho had known not to get her hopes up. Still, they had a lead, one piece of hope to go to.

“SBR: Since 1891.” That’s all the sign needed, everyone knew about them. How could you not know of an international brand that’s existed for over a century?

“SBR" was supposed to stand for Steel Ball Run, which was the name of a giant horse race across the US in 1890, but it had become something of a redundant tidbit to the company's lore. The race had raised huge amounts of money, so the man who had been behind it, Steven Steel, licensed the name to thousands of products worldwide. Including hats.

The SBR outlet was run by a stout, balding man in a suit which had a heart-dotted vest instead of a jacket, who greeted the two when they walked in, seeming just a bit surprised as he looked over towards the Wall Eye Man.

“Oh, good to see you again, Mr.Kira.”

His eyes widened in shock.

No way, had it been that easy?

“You… You just said ‘Kira’?”

The store owner let out a “hm” and seemed a little bit flushed. “I’m sorry sir, my glasses are a bit foggy, aren’t you Mr.Yoshikage Kira?”

Yoshikage Kira.

He was stunned, so Yasuho had to take the lead.

“No no he is!” she hoped that was true. “It’s just, well,” Shit, what kind of cover do you use for this? She gulped, “w-we’re dating!”

Oh God why did she go with that? She was definitely blushing to the max.

“But we work together, so we’re really not supposed to, and we don’t want anyone to find out!” She had run closer to the shopkeeper, as if that would somehow sell her story better. “That’s why he got a bit mad when you said his name, is all.”

“Apologies, sir, I was just surprised to see you come in again so soon. Are you still waiting for the new made-to-order beret?”

Yasuho always thought she was good at finding things, both literally and figuratively. Here, she had just found an “opening”, another lead.

“Actually that’s why we came in. He’s forgotten where he had that one sent. Do you happen to have a shipping record on hand?”

The owner nodded and pulled out a large binder of order receipts.

The apparent Kira dashed over to the book, desperate for another clue to his identity.

“Please do not peek, sir, there’s hundreds of customers’ information in here.”

“Come on, I just want to see what address is in there,” he said, trying to think how to get through this quickly. “Does mine say 68 Morioh Road?”

The clerk looked at him funny, which Yasuho guessed was because there was no such place as “Morioh Road.”

“No no.” The clerk studied the page, following the text with his finger. “It’s 258 Spiracle Street, apartment number 204.”

When the clerk next looked up, the two had already left.

“258 is an apartment complex, but they’re all single bedrooms, not a family type of thing” Yasuho said as she looked through the information found by her phone. “Maybe there was no missing person’s report for you because you live alone?”

He had come to the same realization, but only found it utterly crushing. If all of his lost memories belong to somebody with nobody who cared about him to begin with, was there really a difference?

“Y’know I was thinking of a nickname for you on the way over, in case we still couldn’t find your real name. That guy said you’re ‘Yoshikage Kira’, but I dunno, something’s off about that. You don’t really seem like a Yoshikage.”

“Is it really sensible to say people look like their names?”

Yasuho pouted. “I guess not really, but to tell the truth, this whole time you’ve kind of reminded me of a dog I once had.”

“A dog?”

“Mhm!” Yasuho nodded, smirking, “His name was JoJo, so that’s what I wanna call you, okay?”

“Oh uh, that’s alright I suppose.”

He felt bad for saying that, because secretly, he liked that name better than Yoshikage Kira.

Chapter Text

“This is my… home,” JoJo thought out loud as they walked through the lobby of the apartment complex they had been led to. “I lived here, I walked the sidewalks up to this building, I climbed up those stairs and went back down them. How often did I go to that store 1.6 kilometres back? I wonder if I ever took the bus that stops 3.4 kilometres away?” He searched his mind for the answer, but there was still nothing.

10 metres and 22 centimetres from the entrance, they reached apartment 204.

“How do we get in?” he asked Yasuho beside him. “Is there some sort of janitor around?”

Yasuho strolled up to the door and, acting on a hunch, jumped up to feel around the top of the door frame, eventually pulling down her prize.

“Spare key!” she exclaimed in joy that it had worked, before poking the key through the door knob and turning it open.

The first notable thing inside the apartment was a wide array of sailor’s suits hanging on a wide coat rack. Each one had a matching hat, like JoJo’s, except folded the right way, and were all clad in the identical color scheme of plant green with red stripes. JoJo brought down the one hung in front, and threw it on over his hospital clothes, almost nicking himself on the compass badge and anchor pin present on the chest area. There were shoes on the floor under them, and JoJo untied his hospital provided slippers and compared them to his real shoes. He tried putting a pair on, but gave up as they seemed just a tad too small, leaving him barefoot.

The apartment painted him as a very unusual man: A large framed copy of the Mona Lisa was hung on the wall, staring down upon several statues of disembodied hands, cluttering among the normal things like a docked cellphone or a scattered array of books.

Yasuho had investigated the kitchen cupboards, finding them stock full of canned peas and wasabi, and exclusively canned peas and wasabi.

“You have something for green foods, JoJo?” she asked playfully. "Accounts for the suit fabric too."

Unfortunately for her, he had already turned his attention to investigating the bathroom door, which was cracked open. His ears were clogged up the frantic steps of the tenant of the apartment above his.

JoJo entered the bathroom, seeing a room that felt immaculately organized, but with some things just imperceptibly off, like it was a forest clearing which a fierce predator hid just outside of. He checked a mirror-doored cabinet built into the wall above the sink. Half of them were aggressively well labeled and organized medications for every form of casual ailment you could imagine, and the other half were small mason jars labeled with a range of months and an accompanying year.

They were filled with pristinely clipped fingernails. Around the other side of the labels were even fine notes jotted down about how much they had grown during each period. Some of them were from as far back as the 1990s.

Yasuho was following him into the bathroom, but got momentarily stuck in step as some strange sensation prodded her in the back of the neck. She felt her head guided to the corner of the wall behind her, which she squinted at.

“Hey JoJo,” she called through the bathroom doorway, a bit tempered. “There’s a camera here.”

“A camera?”

“Yeah, it’s…” Yasuho trailed off looking around a small pinhole on the wall. “It’s sort of drilled into the wall, it seems like it might actually go through to the next room up. There’s a hacksaw sitting against the wall too, although I’m not sure at what point in installing a camera you would’ve used that…”

The footsteps from upstairs settled in place over the bathroom.

JoJo finally became conscious of one of the irregularities he sensed in the room: The bathtub, though unoccupied, was filled up with a stagnant basin of tap water. He tip-toed over to the tub and reached in to pluck out the drain-stop which was sealing the water in, but reared back his hand with a yelp.

The stopper came out of the water with his arm, stuck to his hand because of a cascade of tiny spikes which had been stuck along the length of the chain, spots of dried up hot glue visible in some spots. The impromptu razor-chain had sliced open JoJo’s palm, a subtle red hue being added to the water that was being flushed away.

Yasuho had run over to the sound of his pained cry and instinctively was reaching to help, but JoJo swatted the air around her to hold her off.

“Don’t touch that Yasuho, it’s some kind of a booby trap!”

“Wow, you really brought some chick home, Yoshikage?”

JoJo’s pupils tightened up like a cat. A shrill, hoarse voice had just plunged into his ears from above, its cadence coated in radio static.

“Who’s there?!” He shouted, scrambling to the floor as he shook the hooks of the bath stopper’s chain off his hand, blood dripping out of the scrapes.

Yasuho appeared freaked out too, not at the mystery voice but at JoJo himself.

“Going all chubby chaser, huh? Am I not good enough for you?”

The source of the voice fell in through the ceiling, slinking between floorboards like a ghost. It was a bundle of energy, bobbing in mid-air like a jellyfish in the open ocean. It was fundamentally a bright lemon yellow torso, branded on three spots with a blue arrow pointing inwards at a matching arch. It had no legs to speak off, a silver belt clinging where it cut off at the hips. A couple slimy tentacles hung down from this spot, twitching about as they felt the air.

Its shoulders had huge plates embedded in them, and from those emerged a total of four broad limbs which ended in rounded feelers like a stethoscope. Its head was shaped like a juicer, colour split into quadrants alternating between yellow and blue, adorned with a curling crown which vibrated with the distorted noises of seagulls and beach music.

“Nice to see you, asshole! I’ve been waiting days for this, now you’ll face the full power of my Stand!” the floating thing buzzed like a radio transmitter, crackling out a voice that was equally accented with “‘50s beach movie star” and “mountain hick.” “Fun Fun Fun!”

It floated right above JoJo, and one of its limbs seemed to lock onto his cut-up hand like a distant magnet. Prompted by this, the blood which was speckled over his palm slugged together and dried up into a scabby branding of the same shapes seen on the floating Stand’s torso.

“Yasuho? Why are you just standing there?” JoJo observed Yasuho’s eyes solely focused on him, oblivious to the third presence with them.

“What’s that, huh? She’s not a Stand user, is that right?”

“Stand user?”

The so-called “Stand”, Fun Fun Fun, slid across the air as if on an invisible sheet of ice, the one of its limbs locked onto JoJo’s hands rearing up. On cue, JoJo’s arm jet forward, flailing like a freshly caught fish with him having no control over it.

Yasuho asked the obvious “What are you doing?” as JoJo tried in vain to hold down his puppeteered arm with his free one.

“I can’t control it,” he calmly explained with too little context on her end. She seemed rather concerned.

“Are you having a seizure or something?”

JoJo shook his head no, but Yasuho was distracted from that by his arm swinging straight for her, the strange shaped scar of blood which rested on the back of his hand catching her attention. “Watch it!” she scolded.

JoJo tried bearing himself against the wall, but that just attracted the horrid thing to the idea of forcing him to palm one of the jars full of nail clippings to the floor, where it burst apart and sent an unpleasant rain of glass onto his bare left foot.

Footsteps creeping directly over JoJo accompanied a cackle which transmitted from the floating beast as the shards on his foot were bucked off by blood drops which danced into another copy of the brand. His left foot began limping with a mind of its own, tractioning him towards Yasuho.

“Bringing a woman here yourself… You’re making this almost too easy. Fun Fun Fun!” The puppet master hovered ominously overhead, as JoJo’s branded limbs started moving with much more sophistication than they had previous.

“Yasuho! Get away!” JoJo barked, frightening her. “I’ve lost control of half my body!” he could see her muscles tense up to come towards him. “No, don't!” he surprised her with his anticipation of her moves. “This bathroom is rigged with traps to make you hurt yourself. You need to leave me in here and go get help instead.”

“Like hell!” Fun Fun Fun shouted as it dashed forward, violently dragging JoJo to Yasuho. She screamed as he was forced to put her in a choke hold, his free leg scuffing the floor as he tried to push back against the controlled one kicking them out back into the hallway. More precisely: At the spot where Yasuho had discovered a camera.

“Smile for the picture! Yoshikage!” while his shoulder blade pressed Yasuho against his body, the length of his arm was forced to bend over and reach for the conspicuously placed saw Yasuho had seen earlier.

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Yasuho’s body tried to scurry away on instinct, even though she was trying not to feel betrayed, realizing that this was obviously what accompanying a strange man alone to his apartment impromptu would result in.

“Yasuho, you really don’t see or hear the ‘Stand ability’ above right now, do you?”

Her face - painted with terror - took on an extra layer of spontaneous confusion, a glint in her eyes like remembering a tragedy from childhood. “You know about…” She was taking deep breaths. “Stands?”

She had first heard that word when she was a child and her parents shipped her off to a summer camp a few cities over so she’d be away from what would turn out to be their divorce. When she introduced herself as being from Morioh, she was told by a group of campers from Kurihara that that place was evil, and the people there could invoke evil spirits who would appear standing next to them, although conveniently impossible to see by anyone who wasn’t themselves a wicked witch.

Such things were the embodiment of their holder’s psyche, a power taken out of the Earth and given shape by their human soul.

Her train of thought was broken by a wet feeling sliding across her neck. JoJo’s hand and the jagged saw blade were suspended inches from neck, trapped in place by a shield of soapy fluid, Spun into the shape of a bubble.

“Do you believe in extraordinary things then, Yasuho?”

JoJo’s other hand pointed at the camera, and another bubble emerged from his fingertips, enveloping the wiring and pulling the entire thing back out of the wall. She yelped again a little as the bubble holding back the saw flew around her neck and past her; JoJo had shoved a third bubble underneath his possessed foot, forcing him to fall against the wall and away from being able to harm Yasuho.

“I guess I’m a pretty ‘extraordinary thing’ myself; A guy with no memories who makes Spinning soap bubbles, right?”

“What are you yammering about?”

Unheard by Yasuho, Fun Fun Fun chimed in, which tempted a bubble to fly out of JoJo’s star birthmark and float to face it. It made short work of wrapping itself around the stringy tentacles in its middle, which JoJo had deduced as being its sensory “organs.”

“Wha- What’d you just do?” its user’s voice cried as it flailed around. “I can’t see or hear anything!”

“Shhh shhh shhh.” JoJo paid all his mind back to Yasuho. Behind him, his own Stand’s massive frame was peering out from the bathroom, phasing itself partway through the wall. One of its arms had come out with it, dipping back in the wall before reaching out to grab the saw from JoJo, which it effortlessly crushed up like it was a wad of paper.

“So, what I’m really asking you Yasuho is: ‘Do you believe in me?’”

Yasuho looked at him, at his eyes which were each colored with two shades, and at the fuzzy cloud of blue energy which was surrounding him.

“Yeah, I do.”

JoJo smiled. “Soft & Wet!”

Joshu Higashikata’s release from hospital was played out to the score of his grizzled father chastising him. “Joshu, you really should’ve saved some of that dango.”

Joshu gave him a side eye and scoffed. “That’s unfair thinking, dad! Those two could easily get their own box of sweets off of somebody if they wanted some so bad. Me getting one from Yasuho is more special! It’s an act of true love!”

“Are you sure it’s not more special because nobody ever wants to give you gifts?”

Joshu glared at him. “Just open the car, old man.”

Driving home, Joshu found his father’s prediction came true. His younger sister in particular was somehow more interested in the lack of dango than the fantastical tale of how he came to be at the ER to begin with.

“You really are a dick, you know that?!”

Their older sister, sat next to her in the backseat, patted her back with her gorgeously manicured hand. “Hey now, Joshu didn’t do anything wrong.” Joshu looked at her eyes locking onto him in the rear view mirror, indicating that she did not actually agree with that statement. “Why don’t we go to a cafe instead? How about that one with the super long menu descriptions?” she offered up.

Their dad engaged after shaking his fist at someone cutting him off. “Menu descriptions?”

“Yeah you know. That place where you read the menu and underneath every dessert is like, ‘For only 580 yen, you can get this cherry pie that tastes like a true love’s kiss under a starry night sky, made lovingly from organically-grown cherries by Chef Sugawara of Yamagata Prefecture.’”

“Oh I know where you’re talking about. I once got ‘Chef Yoshimura’s famous creme brulee made from the milk of grass-fed Jersey cows raised on a sunny ranch in Iwate Prefecture, only 580 yen!’”

Father and daughter laughed together while the younger siblings remained in their mutual annoyance at each other. Joshu could only wonder what Yasuho was up to.

JoJo’s own Stand, the barrel chested sailor robot, sprung into action, floating above him and Yasuho, shielding them from the force upstairs. Fun Fun Fun, still deprived of its senses by Soft and Wet’s own bubble, could only blindly float around as Soft and Wet threw a mighty, wound up punch straight against it, deaf to the sound of shotgun and soap which rang out across the room.

The roof shook with the full force of someone above them hitting the floor.

“Asshole!” The enemy indignantly floated down, baiting another punch from Soft and Wet’s left arm, before it dodged and made it jab into the remains of the saw. This triggered the skin on JoJo’s fingers to break apart. “So the injuries you give to the ‘Stand’ go back to the ‘user.’” He awaited another symbol, but it failed to appear. Instead, Fun Fun Fun started to ascend out of range.

“Oh no you don’t!” JoJo yelled, telepathically tugging on Fun Fun Fun’s bubble and forcing it back downwards, into the reach of JoJo’s anger channeled into Soft and Wet’s fists.

“ORA ORA ARA ORA!”

Soft and Wet’s beatdown nearly cracked apart the opposing Stand’s juicer shaped “head”, the sheer force popping apart the bubble, which allowed it to slink downwards into the floor and slither out of sight.

He turned around to face Yasuho, glaring eyes softening up at the hint of her breath.

Her own face was in awe, more concerned with the spectacle around her than the danger it implied. “So that was like,” she brushed her fingers through her bangs, “genuine paranormal activity?"

“You hardly seem phased,” JoJo commented. She chuckled.

“You’re right, but, I dunno, it feels natural to me somehow.” She pouted and put her fingers to her chin. “If you go on message boards on the internet, people all around Japan say that this entire city is haunted… When the earthquake happened, the Wall Eyes rose up out of the ground and saved everybody, and people began saying that the mayor and business owners sold souls to the Devil to make it happen.”

“The Devil?”

Yasuho shook her head to clear her thoughts. “What I’m getting at is, everybody who lives here seems to understand that really weird things happen in Morioh. Even if you go your entire life without seeing a single ghost, being born here means that you have to shoulder that burden.”

“I think I get it; Speaking of burdens, right now our situation is as follows-” JoJo took over the educating, trying to get Yasuho a full understanding of the spectral duel happening around her. “Somebody in the room above us has it out for me.”

“And you don’t happen to remember why?”

“Negatory. What I do know is that he has a Stand ability which can control you like a puppet, limb-by-limb if you get any sort of cut of them. The Stand’s own body can puppeteer you, but his weakness is that he himself has to stand over you for it to take effect. Unfortunately he’s probably going to start to be careful about making noise when he walks, and I think the roof in here isn’t as thin as it was in the bathroom anyway. If he can sneak up on us, he’ll get control of my other hand, too.”

Yasuho’s face lit up with the unmistakable look of an idea. “Hey, all these apartments have a balcony on the back.” she pointed to the far end of the apartment, which had a bay window inviting in the sky from outside, a glass door next to it tempting the tenant to get some sunshine. “Why don’t we go out there! If he has to follow us onto the balcony, you’d definitely be able to hear him!”

“Bright idea, Yasuho. If I can get my Soft and Wet to peer over the edge of his balcony, I can punch his lights out when he tries to come after us. Only issue is, he might be expecting us to do that, or he might even still have this place bugged and is listening right now. He’s probably waiting for me to cross the room to the balcony and will get the jump on me, almost literally.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m taking an alternate path.”

Without elaborating, JoJo began sprinting across the room, not towards the door but towards the window, cutting diagonally to be aimed at the corner. Soft and Wet dashed ahead of him and swiped the window out of its frame, forming a plump bubble which kept the shards safely away from JoJo, who landed onto the balcony triumphantly.

Letting the glass float to the ground below, Soft and Wet grabbed onto the balcony of the apartment above and hoisted itself up, peering over the edge and scanning for the opponent.

Instead, it was confronted by a wildly snapping snake.

Two to be precise. Fearsome serpents which were floating in the air, suspended by none other than Fun Fun Fun, which glided tauntingly over Soft and Wet’s reach. Hanging above JoJo, it released its grip on one of them, which tumbled down straight into his chest. It hissed at him, rearing fangs and staring him down with its beady eyes, its head marked by the dreaded triangle-arc.

“Did I ever tell you one of my brothers sells reptiles, Yoshikage?” The man upstairs had emerged onto the balcony just seconds too late for JoJo to subject him to a flurry of punches, as he was now paralyzed with shock as the snake began coiling around his neck. “Snakes are some pretty convenient little shits, their whole body only counts as one limb!”

The hissing and the suffocating and the laughing, they all brought him back. In a flash he was back in the ground, and he knew nothing. Only darkness surrounded him as the world he was shoved into shifted and fell around him. Dirt was filling his lungs as he desperately tried to spit it out. The coughed up rubble would arch upwards before falling down, letting him know it was safe to desperately shove upwards for fresh air.

He made it, inhaling the fresh oxygen like it was Manna of God. And another man was there.

“Where am I ?”

The other man looked down at him with smug curiosity, dark folded lines scarring his face up to his sand blonde hair, crew cut and spiked around the circumference but folded into a wavy crown on top.

“Who am I? ”

The other man produced a hat, a sailor’s hat, from his thorn-adorned gray jacket and tossed it on his head, before strolling away.

Chapter Text

JoJo’s eyes shot open as he burst back to life.

“A memory! I just remembered something! I can’t let myself die here damn it! ” His heart burning with resolve, he managed to make Soft & Wet pry the choking serpent off his neck and discard it over the balcony. He stood up and took three deep breaths, regaining focus on his situation, and noticing that the snake had taken a nip at his foot.

“JoJo!”

From inside the apartment, in the kitchen, Yasuho had cried out. He saw her pinned down by one arm, which had been bitten into by the other snake. Fun Fun Fun floated above her, the snake dancing to its movement like it was playing a hypnotic flute.

“Listen here and listen clear, Kira! The other snake here is a pit viper, and it’s just injected your broad with deadly venom. There’s anti-venom in your kitchen fridge, but if you come over here to help her, I’m gonna take control of your entire body! I’ll let you cure her, but then you’ll be my slave! Or are you gonna betray your Hipnagagic Oath and run far away?”

“Did you mean Hippocratic?” JoJo scoffed at him. “Does he mean to imply that I’m a doctor?”

“Ehh shut it! Hurry up and come face my wrath!”

“I don’t have any clue what your problem with me is, but I can tell you’re a sick person. And thankfully, that you’re also an idiot!”

“What did you just say to me?!”

“Allow me to explain in simple terms: I have two cuts which have been taken over by your Stand, but two which haven’t, which means your ability isn’t automatic. In order to control someone, you have to stand above them! So by trying to make me come towards the kitchen, you’ve revealed your location!”

The man upstairs sputtered over the medium of his Stand. “So what?!”

“So,” JoJo smirked. “My bubbles can travel through walls.”

Soft & Wet hurdled a bubble towards the kitchen, its trajectory suddenly jolting upwards and into the floor above. Before long, it had itself wrapped around the puppeteer’s skeezy ankle, and dragged him across the floor until he collided with his wall with such force the entire condo complex could surely hear it. “Let’s see how you like getting dragged around limb by limb.”

The threat of being turned into a slave in body but not mind dealt with, JoJo wasted no time shuffling through his fridge to find the hidden anti-venom. In the meantime, Soft & Wet kept up its hustle by punching away Fun Fun Fun and bubbling up the pit viper.

“Don’t worry Yasuho.” He knelt beside her and took her hand only to inspect it, but it made her blush anyway. “I’m gonna use my Stand to inject some of this medicine into your bloodstream. You’ll need to take a couple more doses for the next few hours - preferably from an actual hospital - but you’ll be alright for the time being.”

She bit her other hand anxiously, as if it was jealous of the snake-fanged one. “Y-you saved me.”

“Of course I did,” JoJo brushed it off as he helped her to her feet. “Although if you want to repay the favor, you can help me dig up the wrap on this jerk!”

A tremendous sliding occurred on the floor above, a yelp slowly becoming audible as it approached the balcony and fell over its edge. The Stand user finally was forced face-to-face with the two of them, briefly held up by his ankle before the bubble around it popped and sent him to an unflattering fall for the last 15 centimetres.

He had heavily tanned skin and bleached hair, and wore nothing but a greasy speedo and an ugly, lumpy red coat.

JoJo slammed Soft & Wet’s hands against his neck, picked him up, and threw him inside of the apartment.

“Don’t try anything else, you understand? You’re gonna do exactly as I say.” JoJo had his Stand beckon the snake which had attacked Yasuho over to him, held up in its spherical prison. “That snake seems awfully mad from being floated around like that, don’t you think? To put it in simple terms, any disobedience from you results in you being bitten by the snake, got it?”

Yasuho stayed close behind, watching in bewilderment as she tried to focus her eyes on what now seemed to be a faint humanoid figure floating behind JoJo.

“Now talk, who am I!?” Despite JoJo’s elaborate torture system, the man remained quiet except for horrifically unsteady breathing. Maybe a more hands-on approach would be better.

“Yasuho,” JoJo asked kindly, pointing behind her, “please look over there for a second.”

“Hm?” Yasuho craned her neck around, conveniently missing JoJo kicking Fun Fun Fun’s user in the ribs.

“Alright alright I’m sorry! You win Yoshi-” He stopped for a second, suddenly taking in who was actually standing above him.

“You’re not Yoshikage?”

JoJo froze. No way, all this for nothing? Surely this guy had to be trying some other cheap trick to get away.

“Yasuho, you see out the window there?” She looked away again, and JoJo punched his hostage square in the nose. “Don’t fuck with me!”

“I’m serious! Look, the hand statues!” He looked genuinely terrified as he gestured towards the strange house décor.

“The guy who lives here, Yoshikage Kira, he’s such a narcissist he got statues made from casts of his own hands! But compare them, your hands aren’t the same as them! The finger length and everythin’ is totally off!”

"No. No no no no no."

It was for nothing, he was right, the hand statues, they were completely different from his own.

He couldn’t even cling to the hope that the hostage was lying, as the bottoms of the statue had Yoshikage Kira’s name printed right on them.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, or why you’re in his clothes and everything, but you ain’t Yoshikage! Not that I get why you’d think you were to begin with. Just look at this.” The terrified man reached into another one of his pockets and pulled out a crumbled photo.

The photo was of a man, remarkably similar to JoJo. But just not quite right, different features, different hair.

“This is… Yoshikage Kira?”

“Sure is!”

“Then who the hell are you?”

“Well now is that really important? Seems like you could jus-”

The bubbled snake came flying at his face, eliciting a terrified yelp from him.

“Ojiro Sasame! My name’s Ojiro Sasame! I’m a professional surfer, and I have a grudge against Yoshikage! That bastard, we were… friends, sort of, always hanging around on the same beach. Well this edgy douche always made fun of my job! He’d come up to me and say some spiel like ‘I’m a sailor so I’m a man of the sea. And that man over there is a barber, he’s a man of the land. So what’s a surfer? Are you a man of the land or the sea?’”

JoJo and Yasuho both squinted indignantly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“No no this is all important, see, this guy Yoshikage, he was nuts about things which crossed-over into each other, had some kind of OCD I guess. Every time we met, he’d always end up getting super pissed about me! He’d say that I didn’t have a real job, and just bummed money off of sugar mommies! Could you imagine!? I have a girl but it’s not like that, I get sponsorship deals and everything!” He was trying very hard to convince JoJo and Yasuho of that, but didn’t succeed.

“Well I have a fair bit of anxiety myself and he just kept drilling me on it over and over. I’d always bite my nails when I’m nervous, see? Well one day he gives it to me so bad, he made fun of me biting my nails too! He said he always clipped his nice and kept them in jars. Like that’s any less weird! Well he says to me, ‘If your nails taste so good, how about your fingers? Why don’t you just bite your fingers off?’”

“So, you wanted to attack him because he made fun of you biting your nails?” Yasuho asked, trying to make sense of this.

“No see that’s the thing, he told me to eat my fingers off, and I did!” Ojiro raised up his right hand which, true to the story, had no fingers to speak of past the knuckles. This sent both JoJo and Yasuho jumping back in horror and disgust.

“So fine I admit it, one day I rented the apartment above his to stalk him. I spied for months, dude was up to some shady stuff I think, but I didn’t care. One day I heard him telling someone over the phone he was gonna be gone for a while, that was three days ago. So I broke into his apartment and planted the camera and that saw, I was gonna use my Stand to film him swinging it around like a maniac, maybe even find somebody to lock in there with him so it would look like he was a kidnapper! Then I could show the fuzz and get rid of him for good!” he grovelled.

Yasuho was visibly freaked out. “You’re a monster!”

“I swear I’d normally never do stuff like this, I mean sometimes I dicked around with girls on the beach, holding them underwater with my Stand, but I never hurt anyone! They were into it I swear!”

“Right there, what’d you say, Stand?”

“Yeah yeah. The spirits and such, when I was a kid my house was on where a Wall Eye is now, so I guess they have something to do with that. Yoshikage had one too, it could make stuff blow up I think?”

Yasuho felt light headed. This wasn’t just weird anymore, all the old whispers and campfire stories of Morioh being cursed with magic spirits, they were real. She had just jumped head first into an ocean of the supernatural, with dry land never again to be seen.

“Look you degenerate, I never want to see you again, but I’ll let you go since I don’t have any use in this room further. If I ever catch sight of you again, I’m gonna make sure you’re the one who’s locked up, got it?”

Ojiro trembled and bowed, begging for forgiveness.

“Come on Yasuho.” JoJo grabbed her by the arm and stormed out of the apartment.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened,” he said as he slammed the door behind him. “I’ll understand if you want to leave me again now. You don’t deserve this.”

“JoJo I-” she knew she should run for the hills at 50 miles per hour, but she couldn’t. Why not? Why couldn’t she bear to be away from his dumb gap-toothed patchy cute face?

Wait cute?

Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh.

Yasuho didn’t think she had ever been specifically told to not get a crush on the four-balled memoryless ground stranger, but doing so still felt like a great failure on her part.

“I want to help you. I don't know what’s going on, but it’s not fair to leave you out in the world by yourself. No matter what it takes, I’ll find out who you are.”

JoJo smiled warmly. “Thank you… Yassy. Oh by the way, do me a favor and get the number for animal control to handle that Boa constrictor. We can get you to the hospital ourselves, too, but you should probably call an ambulance here anyway.”

Yasuho was gonna ask how come, but the unmistakable sound of a bubble popping, snake hissing, and man screaming from the apartment made it pretty evident.

Yasuho had made it in and out of the hospital that afternoon. To her delight, she found JoJo had been lurking outside the hospital waiting for her the whole time.

“Yassy!” he beamed, hugging her again and adding embarrassment onto her post-med wooziness. “I’m so sorry again for everything that’s happened.” he grabbed her hands, “Please, let me take you out for dinner.”

Yasuho giggled, flattered. “With what? Your looks? You don’t have any money, silly.”

JoJo’s face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his head. “Well, how about just a walk in the park then?”

Yasuho fluttered her eyes, “That sounds lovely.”

They spent the afternoon mostly in silence, traversing the city until they happened back at the very place the unusual day had started.

“What’s going on Yasuho? There’s people here.”

Not just any people; The small little hideaway corner of Wall Eyes he had been found at was swarming with police, red and blue siren lights piercing the dark. One of the officers noticed JoJo with surprise and forcefully approached him.

“You! You’re the guy who was found here this morning, right?”

“Yes, what exactly is going on here?”

Yasuho peered around the questioning cop and gasped at the sight of a body being lifted into a bag.

That dirtied hair, the slightly decomposed face, she recognized it. The photo.

“We’ve just found a man dead, and an eyewitness says you were breaking into his apartment earlier.”

“I…no I thought I was...”

The cop grabbed JoJo’s arms and twisted them behind his back, snapping them together with handcuffs.

“‘Man A’, you’re under arrest for the murder of Yoshikage Kira.”

Yasuho yelled out as JoJo got pulled into a cop car, screaming and begging from being separated from him. As she was pushed off by some pencil pushing cop, she saw it. The body of Yoshikage Kira. He really did look like JoJo, the only real difference being a wavy noodle of bangs. Maybe his teeth weren’t all gappy either, but his mouth was closed so she couldn’t tell.

Well, there was still one more difference. Kira’s body...

It had no balls.

Not like they were decomposed or eaten off, they were totally gone.

And now she was stuck with that sight forever. Would the coroner notice it? Is that a big deal? Are your balls supposed to fall off when you die?

Unfortunately she’d never know, since she decided she never wanted to think about ballsacks again.

JoJolion, the Holy JoJo.

The City of Morioh is a blessed place, its borders guarded by the Wall Eyes, and its people by the powers known as Stands.

At 07:47 on Monday, August 22, 2011, Yasuho Hirose pulled an unidentified living man out of the ground. From that moment on, she was cursed.

She would often come to wonder what a curse is. Something bitter in the land, an inherent part of nature which damns people who go against it? The things cast out when humans formed society and developed laws and morality, good and evil, things they considered wholly separate from them?

Or maybe a curse is an attack from the past, a sin committed by an ancestor which has come back to haunt you.

Whatever it was, Yasuho was caught in its thralls now, and if her life was awful before, it would soon become an absolute hell.

But she had him from it all, the naked sailor boy. Maybe if she and him could be happy together, everything would be alright, maybe it would all be worth it.

Maybe with Yasuho’s love, and those bubbles which came out of his star-shaped birthmark, they could break the curse.

Chapter Text

The jail cell he had been thrown in for the past 13 hours and 6 minutes was only about 1.82 by 2.44 metres, making it quite a cramped feel. For the amnesiac known only to a single person as “JoJo”, however, it felt quite cozy. Cozy enough that he felt very confident in deflecting the questioning of overly aggressive police detectives and the toady guards. Speaking of guards, one was approaching him now.

“Get up,” he said, uncaring, as he unlocked the jail cell and released JoJo from his steel cage. “You’ve been bailed out.”

Was this a miracle? Had someone who knows him come to his rescue? He can’t imagine this was the work of Yasuho; although he had never asked, she didn’t particularly seem in a financial position to post bail.

His heart dropped to three beats a minute as he walked towards the outside world, into the lobby of the jailhouse.

Then he saw him: His face was just a little bit forlorn, a happy outlook that was being eaten away a bit more every day by the stresses of life. It was framed by fuzzy stubble and his literally dirty blond hair, which was clumped into places into seemingly perfectly round balls. He had one a pair of thin framed reading glasses resting on his square nose, while his hands fiddled with the pockets of his blue jeans, matching the color of the jumper hoodie which wrapped his arms in its sleeves, its collar sticking out around his neck from the puffy brown vest which covered the rest of it.

Did he know this man? For a moment he thought about how his face did resemble the man he remembered while fighting Ojiro Sasame, only aged by 30 years. Was the man his dad? Uncle? Teacher? Lover?

He approached JoJo, pulling an item out of each pocket, and presenting them to him.

To JoJo’s confusion, they were both toys. One was an emotionless robot figure with purple armor over its metallic body. The other was a pitiful looking pink bear.

“Which character do you like best? The heroic Battle Robo? Or the humble Teddy Bear?”

“I uh -” Was this some kind of a joke? A set up for some kind of attack like Ojiro’s? “If I had to pick, I suppose the bear?”

“Ah! That means you’re a yankii!”

JoJo couldn’t think of anything to say, instead watching the strange man laugh himself into a fit.

“You know, someone who likes cute fluffy things, like a sheepskin rug or embroidered bathroom towels. I bet you’d take your shoes off if you got in a car, hm?”

Despite how weird it was, JoJo had to admit to himself that that meaningless sentence was true. “How do you know all this?”

“Well, truth is, I’m a yankii too!” he let out a jovial roar of laughter. “I suppose some explanation is in order now; You still have no memories isn’t that right?” he began.

“My name is Norisuke Higashikata, fourth generation owner and proprietor of the Higashikata Fruit Company. My silly old son Joshu got himself passed out when they found you, which is how I heard about your situation. Well when I caught wind they were trying to charge you for murder, I just had to take action! I’ve gotten your entire case thrown out, young man.”

“Y-You, got me set free?”

“I had my best lawyer look over your case and prove the entire thing was one big heaping pile of incompetence! Aside from you not being fit to stand trial, the only person accusing you of having anything against Kira is a verifiable lunatic!”

“I don’t know how to thank you sir!” JoJo instinctively bowed to him.

“No need for that ‘sir’ nonsense, please feel free to call me by name. Now regarding your current status, since everything about you is still a total mystery, it’s been arranged that you’ll be under parole on my watch, living under my roof. I’ve even gotten you temporary identification.”

One of the other people in the room, an important looking suited man, handed JoJo an ID. His age was listed as 19, his photo was the same as his mugshot, and there printed was a name.

“Josuke Higashikata.”

“Joshu’s girlfriend told me how she called you JoJo, so I picked a name where you can read the “suke” as “jo”. How ‘bout that?”

Josuke felt like he was dreaming, what a miracle the man was. His memories were still locked away in an impenetrable fortress, but now instead of him desperately banging on the doors to escape the bitter cold outside, he had a warm cabin to return to.

“If it’s alright with you, though, I’d also like to call you JoJo. Just to make things a bit more personal, you know? By coincidence, they used to call me JoJo too when I was a boy. Come on now, we’re going home.”

Home.

It wasn’t his home, but it felt better than anything else possibly could be to have one.

As he walked back into the free world, Josuke saw the perfect cherry on top of his sundae of good news. 166 centimetres tall, wearing a ruby red sweater vest and an obviously padded bra, accompanied by beautiful tails of cerulean hair.

“JoJo!” she cried out as she ran up to him and collapsed on him in a hug. “I was so worried about you!”

She turned to Norisuke, who was Josuke’s new second favourite person - Not that that was hard considering his pretty negative opinion of the remaining people he had ever meaningfully spoken to - and thanked him.

“Come on you three, let’s take a commemorative photo.” Norisuke pulled out his phone and held it high and he snatched Josuke and Yasuho into a bear hug. “Everybody smil-Wait, what the hell?” Norisuke furrowed his brow and looked at his screen. “System update required? Uh, give me a second kids,” he said as he started fiddling with menu options on the screen.

“Well, about Yoshikage Kira,” Yasuho began, while Norisuke was in his own world of technological incompetence. “They weren’t really able to determine his cause of death, it was put down as ‘heart attack’, from being suffocated underground. No family member claimed his body, but some people from a philanthropist group called The Speedwagon Foundation are arranging his burial.”

“Yasuho, how do you find all this out?”

“Oh.” She started blushing, why’d he have to ask that? “Well, this is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend is an intern at the hospital. He’s always bugging me to get back together, and I’m really not into it! But, it’s come in pretty handy lately, since he’ll bend over backwards spilling stuff for me.” Yasuho decided to change the subject, handing Josuke a bag. “By the way, I snuck back into Yoshikage Kira’s apartment and took the rest of those sailor’s suits. It’s probably kind of wrong to defile a dead man’s things, but they fit you perfectly and I don’t think he’ll be needing them.”

“Alrighty! Heeeeeere we go!” Norisuke sang as he jumped back into selfie position, taking one thousand camera clicks. “Our ride’s the green van over there,” he gestured as he walked off with Josuke, before stopping and turning back around. “Aren’t you coming Yasuho?”

“Oh, me? I really shouldn’t.”

“Nonsense, you’re family too! Come on, just remember -” he smirked at Josuke as he peeled his sneakers off by the heel. “This is a yankii van, so no shoes allowed!”

As Josuke noted, the Higashikatas’ luxurious home was 61 metres from the gate which enclosed it. Those 61 metres were just the tip of the 200 acre iceberg that was the Higashikata Orchard.

“The spirit of our family is self-sacrifice, Josuke, so I guess you could say I’m taking you in as a public service of sorts," Norisuke explained, while Josuke took in the astoushingly affluent place he was being brought to, eyes lingering over the golden plaque declaring the property as "3121 Hill." "See it all started during the Meiji Era: there was a famous horse race across North America, and my great grandfather participated. Despite his advanced age at the time, he finished in third place, and when the winner of the race vanished afterwards, he got bumped up to second. It wasn’t a ton of money, but he put all of it into a business importing fruits back to Japan, and we continue that business today. So as the fourth generation head of Higashikata Fruits, I humbly welcome you to our home.”

Norisuke lead Josuke and Yasuho to the grand glass doors leading into the house. “Please make yourself at home - you too Yasuho - and I’ll get you introduced to everybody. I implore you to just treat us like family.”

The house was big enough that the entrance was its own secluded area, including a large shoe rack to the side. Parallel to it was a familiar face: Third born child, Joshu.

He looked Josuke up and down with a complacent smile. “You’ve been named after Yasuho’s old dog, right?” he started barreling over in laughter at his own upcoming joke, almost to the point of tears. “Man, you’re really lucky she didn’t name it Poochie or something!”

Nobody laughed.

“Hey, get along!” Norisuke slunk behind Joshu and pulled him a bit by the ear. “Daddy’s not just gonna sit quietly while you try to pick fights with our guest. Did you even call everybody else out?”

Norisuke’s question got answered by a papery slap! on the ground, a magazine having been tossed from the next room over, proceeded by the click-clacking of high heels on the ceramic floor.

The orchestrator of these noises emerged into the room. Josuke thought she was gorgeous, Yasuho thought she had instantly been outclassed in terms of prettiness, and Joshu thought that that was his older sister and even he had enough standards to not go there.

Hato Higashikata stood at 180 centimetres even before taking into account her glossy, pointed heels, putting her above everyone else in the house, although her frame wasn’t very imposing. She was dressed in overalls strapped over a green knitted top, the red wool of a strawberry-shaped hat matching the stockings which she wore over her statuesque legs. Her hair was lustrous and - keeping up her family's trend of geometric 'dos - pointed into sharp arrows at its ends, which curtained her expertly make-uped face.

“Hm, someone left a magazine on the floor,” she walked over to the weekly with a well practiced sashay, “Oh wowzers, what a pretty girl on the cover! Hmmm, she looks familiar.” She held up the cover next to herself, showing that she herself was the model. “Oh wait, it’s me!” Huhuhuhu.”

Nobody laughed.

She then snickered herself into marketing mode.

“Pleasure to meet you, little sailor boy. My name is Hato!” she spoke with the cadence of a kindergarten teacher. “There’s some exclusive collabs with Domenico Dolce in this magazine! I’ll give it to you for only 680 yen.”

“I’ll take it, but I’ll need you to go cheaper,” Joshu started playing along, “After all I’ll only be using it as a coaster.” Joshu laughed to himself again.

“Quiet up you uggo.” Hato scowled at him, showing off the effects of her years of modelling with the ability to be breathtaking even while irritated.

“Speak for yourself, stupid.”

“Uggo.”

“Stupid.”

“Uggo.”

“Stupid.”

While the two were arguing, Josuke was startled by a fluffy weight suddenly clinging onto his back.

“So how about that mellotron in Heart of the Sunrise, huh?” an airy voice blurted out. “About 97 seconds in, how it falls from the sky like a mist? Ain’t that so cool?”

The youngest child of the family was Daiya. She was a lot shorter than Hato but was otherwise could be mistaken for being as old as her. It was easy to miss her face and only focus on her outfit, however, which consisted of an oversized fluffy brown hoodie. She looked like something that would be included in a Hello Kitty playset.

Josuke expressed visible confusion, to which Daiya kept up her cutesy act and rubbed against his shoulder like a kitten.

“You know, how it melds together with Jon Anderson’s vocals like a perfect river of musical bliss,” she started humming the song in question, while she absent mindedly muttered some praise to Bill Bruford on percussion. “Ah! I love Yes!”

“She’s talking about music, JoJo.” Norisuke explained. “My Daiya collects music and most of all loves progressive rock - like all those really long rock songs from the ‘70s and ‘80s. She owns all of Yes’ records - That’s a band from America.”

Another introducee hesitantly came into the room by the guide of Norisuke’s pleading smile. She was an older woman with cherry red hair with bangs that were swept up, showcasing her overly expensive sunglasses, and who was wearing a peculiar dress adorned with ruffles, bows, and arrows, sheathed with a transparent skirt.

“This is Mitsuba, she’s my eldest’s son’s wife,” Norisuke explained as he showcased her like a game show prize. “His name’s Jobin, but he’s away on a business trip right now unfortunately. Still though, Mitsuba’s family too!”

“I uh, like your clothes,” Mitsuba said as she waved a hesitant hand. “Where you’d get them?”

“I don’t remember,” Josuke point blank responded. Strictly speaking this was a lie, but it worked out better than “From a dead man who I mistakenly believed to be me’s ransacked condo.”

“Oh. Right.”

Yasuho laughed, but just a little.

After this, a small figure dashed into the room and was swung into Mitsuba’s arms. It was a little girl with bobbed hair and bundled up in a polka dotted dress with a scarf. She yanked the glasses off of Mitsuba’s eyes and placed them over her own.

Norisuke smiled. “And this is our dear youngest member, Jobin’s daughter Tsurugi.”

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” Josuke said a little stiffly as he bowed to the family. They were definitely a band of eccentrics, but perhaps that just meant he would fit right in.

Then he had a thought: Were they Stand users? How many other people like him and Ojiro were around? He briefly contemplated summoning Soft & Wet to see if he could get a reaction out of them, learning from his fight against Fun Fun Fun that only people with Stands could see them, but he decided it wasn’t worth potentially spoiling his moment of acceptance.

“Come, everyone!” Norisuke ordered as he led a march through the doors into the house proper. “To the living room!”

Josuke was the last to enter, taking in the high class scenery of the house. Norisuke wasn’t kidding when he called the fruit business successful, these people had to be multi-millionaires!

As he ventured further into the living room, he was jumped on by someone pulling on his head.

“Please, allow me to take your hat.”

It was a maid. Typical outfit and everything, only distinct details being her star-patterned leggings and a chain-strap black hat, which carried a gold emblem etched with the letters “B.T.W”.

“Not necessary, thank you,” Josuke said as he wrestled his shirt out of her grasp. She seemed very cold.

“Oh, how could I forget,” Norisuke said as he rushed to save Josuke. “This is our housekeeper, Ms. Kyo Nijimura.”

Nijimura just stared at him.

As this exchange occurred, Mitsuba was setting up a camera, and called everybody over to take a family photo.

“Joshu, you go on the end,” She ordered him as everyone lined up.

“Huh? But I’m always in the middle!”

“Yeah, well, new guest, he deserves to be in the middle.”

“Come on!” Joshu pleaded.

“Jeez little bro,” Hato taunted. “Someone’s getting jelly.”

“I am so not getting jelly!” he retorted while everyone else ignored him.

“Ms.Nijimura, you come get in too!” Norisuke invited, placing her in the far back.

“Squeeze in Yasuho,” The young Tsurugi asked as she let herself be scooped up by Hato. Yasuho complied and scurried over to Josuke like a scared mouse, grabbing his hand and sending Joshu into a full conniption.

“It’s a shame Jobin couldn’t be here for this,” Mitsuba added as she set the timer and jogged over to her place.

Just as everyone was in prime position, the camera tripod collapsed, sending the poor camera to be smashed against the floor.

“Damn,” Mitsuba examined the shambled tripod. “Seems like a screw fell out, sorry guys, we’ll have to try again later.”

And as rapidly as they came upon Josuke, the strange people of the Higashikata Family dispersed, scattering like ants save for Norisuke, who grabbed Josuke by the wrist and invited him for a tour of the house.

“This is the kitchen - please don’t be afraid to ask Ms.Nijimura to make you anything - and speaking of rooms with plumbing, right behind it is the bathroom!”

Josuke still had no memories, but he can’t imagine he had ever seen anybody speak about fundamental house spaces with such pizazz and enthusiasm before now. Then again, the rooms were quite a bit more remarkable than they'd normally be, carrying the weight of that pizazz and enthusiasm in their fancy lighting and marble countertops.

“Everything else is a bedroom, in the back you have Jobin and Mitsuba’s on the left, and Hato’s on the right. Those two are are Daiya and Tsurugi’s, with an extra closet on the side. And this,” he cracked open the room next to the bathroom, “is your bedroom JoJo. Do with it as you please.”

“Uh dad,” Joshu had appeared behind them. “That’s my room.”

“Oh right, hang on a minute Josuke,” He pulled Joshu aside, leaving Josuke and Yasuho to awkwardly watch as he and Joshu bickered with each other.

“Look this is an emergency situation, Joshu, show some decency.”

“That fuck head knocked me out though!”

“We’ve been over this Joshu, you knocked yourself out because you had a fit over him being next to Yasuho. Come on, you’ve always wanted to live in the garage loft!”

“When I was five!”

“You want a raise in allowance?” Norisuke produced a fat stack of bills and placed it in Joshu’s hands, to which Joshu gave an indignant look and walked away.

“Please settle in, Josuke. You can redecorate if you’d like. It was nice to see you too Yasuho dear, you can go if you want. If you need anything, call Daiya, everybody else is going out later.”

“I’ll see you out,” Nijimura intercepted.

Josuke and Yasuho looked longingly at each other for a second before she moved to leave. “I’ll try to call later JoJo! Everyone here has my number, so you can call me too!”

Yasuho had been escorted to the gate and now stood outside it.

“By the way, I have a message from Sir Norisuke,” Nijimura called after her, Yasuho returning to the gate bars with a “hm?”

“'Don’t go tempting my Joshu, you harlot, and never come near Josuke again either. If you return to this house, harm will befall your family.'”

Yasuho just stood in shock, was that some kind of a joke? Norisuke would never say anything like that. She was about to try to formulate a response when Nijimura turned her back to her.

"That was the entire message; I bid you farewell."

Despite the open invitation to family amenities, Josuke had kept to himself the next morning, staying in his room until Norisuke had invited himself in, knocking to show respect but entering immediately after to show his authority.

Norisuke began, seeming strangely nervous, “So, Josuke. I’d like to have a talk with you.”

Josuke silently nodded, awaiting for his senior to guide the conversation.

He held his hands together solemnly. “Do you tell the truth when you say you do not have any memories?”

“I swear to it, sir.”

Norisuke’s face dropped, seeming to have been relieved of invisible weight but simultaneously left disappointed.

“Well then, Josuke, I’m happy to take you in and all, but there’s no such thing as a free lunch, y’know? So I’d like to ask you to perform me a favor so long as you’re here. My Daiya, she’s actually got an eye condition, you see. She’s nearly blind, and I worry about her, but she’s been moody about me helping her with things. But she, well she confessed to me that she’s developed a crush on you. So would you help me out and try to humor her and watch over her? Please?”

That girl in the bear hoodie, she was in love with him? “Look after her?” Josuke was hesitant. “I’m not sure I can. I mean, how do you get a crush on somebody you talked to for 30 seconds? Especially when you’re blind?”

“Now now, she’s not completely blind, her vision is something like 20/400. I’m sure it’ll be fine, you’ll learn as you go along.” Norisuke wrapped his shoulder around Josuke. “Daiya honey, JoJo’s waiting for you!”

Daiya manifested out of thin air and flew over to them, latching herself onto Josuke like a barnacle and nuzzling against his arm.

Norisuke left him and Daiya alone, while Josuke ignored her and just watched his awkward, shifty body language, as he scratched his chin and seemed to talk to himself.

Chapter Text

“Man, so if you don’t have any memories, do you not know what type of music you like?”

Josuke answered with a negatory, and Daiya seemed to truly pity him.

“That’s gotta suck, I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t remember anything; That’d be really sad.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Josuke instinctively thought, wondering who Sherlock was. On the outside though, he decided it was in his best interests to treat Daiya as well as he could take.

“Don’t worry JoJo, we can go to my room and listen to some of my records together. Then you can have some memories.” Daiya walked straight into the kitchen with high precision, was this girl really blind? “I’ll make us some tea.”

True to her words, Daiya navigated herself to the stove where a hot kettle sat.

“Wait, let me do that.” Josuke said as he jumped up to perform his assigned duty. Daiya sighed.

“Dad told you to do that, right? Hover over me and try to do everything for me?”

“I uh-” Josuke didn’t know how to respond.

“Well you shouldn’t.” Daiya sniffled a bit, was she… crying? “It’s always been like that, I understand he’s worried about me, but it’s not fair. I know where everything in this house is, Josuke. I know where every wall and door is, where to find phones and the TV remotes - even when dad drops it in the cushions - and every minute detail of the kitchen. So please, just treat me normal, okay?” she latched herself to him and whispered in his ear. “That’s the rule, ‘don’t fuss over me.’”

“Daiya, I-” Josuke was truly at a loss for words on how to handle this. “I’m sorry, but I gave Norisuke my word that I’d look after you,” he said in his best impression of a firm dad voice as he began pouring Daiya’s tea himself.

“That’s a shame,” Daiya mused. “I’m really not sure how it’s gonna work on someone like you.”

“W-what?” Josuke froze. At that moment something emerged from the counter. Squeaking like a rubber duck, it revealed the form of a giant plushie. It had the shape of a neck pillow, with a fluffy texture and royal purple color. Adorning it were three pink petaled flowers with yellow centers, two small and one much larger. The large one had a simple gaping smiley face on it, staring childish daggers through Josuke. At the bottom were felt ropes connecting it to five smaller versions of itself, arranged in a way that imitated hands, feet, and a torso, giving the whole thing a crudely humanoid structure.

Josuke yelped as one of the smaller “pillows” threw itself onto him and tightly wrapped around his arm. It felt much too good, like being cuddled under a warm blanket by the fireplace on the coldest day of the year. The texture of fuzziness extended into a sheen over his vision, which faded his view into a glassy-tinted playback of something he’d seen before.

“They’re the most legendary of all Morioh confections,” Yasuho explained, waving her arm in the air to incorporate a sense of awe for him. “Sesame seed honey dango.”

Josuke took one of the treats and chomped right into it, spraying the filling inside all over himself.

“These are delicious!” he exclaimed, joy filling his eyes and overcoming the sounds of Yasuho trying to teach them how to eat one right.

She gave him his first happy memory.

The Stand tugged on his arm as a wavy blue form appeared over his face. Out of it dropped a chess piece, a black knight, with an added spherical segment in the center. Like a crystal ball, the orb displayed Yasuho standing in front of him.

“What just happened?” Josuke blinked and suddenly came to. He looked down and saw Daiya patting around the floor before landing a palm on the chess piece.

“Ah there you are.” She brought it up to her face and glided the smooth orb section over it. “Wow! A box of dango, how romantic,” Daiya sighed, pensively playing with the chess piece while seeming to stare straight into another dimension. “I’ve always wished someone would do something like that for me, but unfortunately I’m not very popular. Every time I thought someone might be trying to ask me out, I found out later they either only liked me because of my family, or just pitied me for being blind.”

“D-dango?” Josuke stuttered over an unfamiliar term, turning it over on his tongue because he felt quite certain he should’ve been aware of it.

Daiya giggled at him. “I’ve always believed in being fair, so I’ll give you an explanation. That’s a ‘Stand power’, Josuke, a gift from the Heavens. When I was a little girl, I fell into a faultline where one of the Wall Eyes would come up later, and hurt my leg real bad. Then, my vision started to rapidly worsen without explanation. But in exchange, I got Cal-i-forn-ia!” Daiya waved her hair dramatically as the giant, fluffy Stand appeared “standing up” behind her. “This is widdle California King Bed, can you see her JoJo? She hates when people fuss over me, so if they do, she’ll take a memory from them.”

Daiya placed the knight with a collection of similar pieces on a board. “This one here’s from Ms.Nyany, the cat daddy got me to keep me company. She ended up living outside. This one came from Hato, it’s of her falling off a bike and scraping her knee, not very nice. Now one here is my absolute fa-vor-ite! It’s from big bro Jobin, from the moment he first laid eyes on his sweetheart Mitsuba.” Daiya spoke longingly, holding up the black king containing the memory. True to her words, it depicted a younger looking Mitsuba outside what seemed to be a university building, standing next to a young student with oily straight hair.

“Don’t you think that’d be the best feeling in the world, to well and truly fall in love with someone. I feel a bit bad, maybe I should give this one back, but he has plenty of others with her.”

“Give back, you can give them back?” Josuke demanded of her. “What did you take from me? Give it back now!”

“Well, if you want it back, you gotta get me to step in your shadow. If you try to break them or anything, the memory will just disappear. That’s the rule, ‘k?”

“You, where are the rest of my memories! Who put you up to this? Is your dad acting against me?” Josuke couldn’t believe it, was it all a lie? Were the Higashikata Family members his enemies?

Daiya pouted. “JoJo, I really don’t know. The reason you lost the rest of your memories, it wasn’t because of me or daddy or anybody I know! I don’t want to hurt you JoJo, I just want you to be together with me. JoJo, I,” she grabbed him and tugged, he felt like she really wasn’t lying, “I love you! You’re the most gorgeous boy I’ve ever met! Won’t you please love me back? Won’t you share your new memories with me?”

Josuke was speechless. This girl - so small and stout and harmless looking - had turned out to be so unhinged! She might not have meant him harm, but as far as he was concerned, she was his “opponent” at that moment. He had been trapped in another survival game like with Ojiro, only now what was at stake was his soul instead of his life, what little he had of one.

“Shhhh.” She put her finger under his left eye, presumably having been aiming for his lips. “Come on, let’s go to my room, it’s more private there, and we can listen to all my records.” She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him off down the hallway.

Yasuho had been in the slightest bit of a rush to get home. Her phone needed to be charged but once it was she was gonna call the Higashikatas and figure out what the hell was that maid’s problem.

“Mama? I’m hom-”

There she was again. Yasuho’s mother passed out drunk, a booze bottle still clutched in her hand.

On New Years 2009, her mom told her she would stop drinking so hard, so Yasuho decided to start counting all the times she found her like this. This was #386. Yasuho thought she’d eventually stop crying at the sight, but she broke down again. Maybe she could stay stoic for #387.

Yasuho noticed there was a hickey on her neck too, which made her want to throw up a little. Why her mother? Why did she have to share DNA with this trashy woman? It had been over six years since she left Yasuho's father, and in that time had constantly gone on about men whom she would start insisting were her true love four days after she met them, which was also the point they tended to stop talking to her.

Within the flood of all of her angry thoughts, the concepts of "true love" and "four days after she met them" manifested a more positive image, as the thought of JoJo flashed in her head.

She took a sharp breath, trying to shake her train of thought clear.

“I wanna talk to him," she decided, bemoaning out loud. "He was with Daiya, wasn’t he? Guess I’ll try calling her,” Yasuho said to only the company of her phone.

To see the raindrops like a thousand

Poet's words

Splash their circles on the stones,

And seem to wash over everything with love

And for a moment the courtyard heard.

“That’s Premiata Forneria Marconi, JoJo,” Daiya said, speaking over the blaring record. “They’re from Italy, but re-recorded the album The World Became The World in English with lyrics by Peter Sinfield from King Crimson. They’re another great band! I have all of their albums except the second one. Apparently his lyrics are very poetic, but I can’t understand them anyways.”

Daiya’s room was colored entirely in pastels and covered wall to wall with stuffed animals and cute bedding. This theming was only broken up by the abundance of records and CD cases scattered about.

Josuke sat quietly, but his consistent lack of response never discouraged Daiya from throwing a thousand hooks of conversation out to him. “JoJo, you wanna go shopping with me? Daddy gives me a lot of spending money so I could buy you whatever you want.”

He stayed quiet, focusing his eyes over the collection of chess pieces Daiya had lined against her window sill, each one visibly holding in a snapshot of someone’s life which Daiya had taken to have for herself.

“Oh don’t be so moody! Come on, help me change before we go out.” Daiya ignored his anger and entered her large walk-in closet, which had its own light bulb that she flicked on. “I’m really asking you to help me out, so I can find everything quicker, so California really won’t activate on you again, I promise. I won’t even get mad if you see me in my bra or anything like that, pinky swear!”

Josuke stepped up to the closet door, ignoring Daiya’s bad flirting. He knew this was his chance; Soft & Wet’s ghostly hand appeared as an aura around his, producing a bubble from the tips of his fingers, which he stuck around the light switch. Encased in the bubble, the sound of the switch being flicked would be muffled, which means he could turn the light off without Daiya knowing. With the light gone, the only illumination would be coming from the room behind them, casting a shadow off of him big enough to put to the spectre of the Brocken to shame.

It was the perfect plan.

Until Daiya spoke.

“Hey JoJo, watcha doing? Felt like you moved really suddenly there. Did a bug or something land on you? You weren’t trying to aim for that light switch by chance, were you?”

No way. She seemed like such a little ditz, how could she be that observant of him?

“When you’ve got a disability like mine, you learn how to be able to ‘see’ things from just the subtle motions of light around a room, maybe the bumps someone makes while stepping around. And then I look over and what do I see, clear as day? The hand of a Stand around yours! Not many people know this, but I can still see Stands, like California. It definitely seems to me like you’re trying to flick out the lights somehow, so why don’t you come stand next to me?”

“No, you got it wrong!” Josuke said, trying to cover his tracks. “It really was just that a bug landed on me.” His plan foiled, Josuke ascended deeper into the closet, following Daiya’s commands to fetch her certain articles of fluffy clothing from her extensive catalogue of cutesy street fashion.

“Hold my phone, will you please?” Daiya placed her cell phone in Josuke’s hands, lingering on his fingers for a second, before proceeding with changing clothes. “Like I said, you don’t gotta look away from me in my underwear. It’s not weird I promise.”

Both were abruptly caught off guard by ringing. It was Daiya’s phone, which identified the caller as Yasuho, her name followed by an emoji of a llama.

“Ooh a phone call! Give it here JoJo.”

“Uh, I’ll answer it for you,” Josuke said, desperate for Yasuho’s help and company.

“Josuke, give me my phone. I’ll answer it myself.”

Josuke started sweating and bit his tongue as he pressed the phone to answer in his hand, before it was immediately knocked out of it by the appearance of California King Bed.

While California King Bed slithered up Josuke’s body again, Daiya tapped around on the floor until she found her phone, and promptly hung up on the “Hello?”s from Yasuho emitting from the other end.

Chapter Text

With Yasuho's call sent to the aether, Daiya took to recovering the memory which had been plunged out of Josuke's soul.

“Oh cool! This one is Yasuho too, so pretty…” She glided it over her face with both hands, letting her phone fall to the wayside. “Seems like you’re on a romantic stroll with her… Yasuho is the one who just called too, isn’t she?”

Yasuho? Who was that again? “You mean… Right, that girl who brought me to the hospital? Actually, she followed me around a lot before I came here, huh,” Josuke pondered out loud, feeling like there was some gap between his knowledge and emotions he couldn’t place; Had he just lost another memory to her?

“Wait a minute, this sort of feeling.” Daiya paused, hands clenching. “JoJo, you…” she started sniffling, and half-fake cried. “You love her, don’t you Josuke?”

“Love who?” He asked in legitimate confusion. Daiya looked back up at him in thought. “Yasuho Hirose? That’s nonsense.” Josuke said, his mind filtering out the haze of confusion he felt. “I don’t feel anything towards her!”

“Then, will you love me?” Daiya looked at Josuke, the very best she could. “You think I’m cute don’t you? One time a bunch of girls on the street made fun of me and said I looked dumb and fat. You don’t think that’s true, do you?”

“Of course not!” Josuke still felt weary of Daiya, but was starting to feel a little bit bad for her. Daiya was still teary faced, but secretly smiled a bit seeing Josuke become complacent towards her whims. “You might be a little chubby since you mostly just sit around the house all day, but that just makes you look even cuter! People like girls who are all curvy like you are!”

Daiya wiped her eyes on Josuke’s sleeves. “That’s so nice to hear! I’m so glad somebody like you came to me! This is like a dream come true. So do you really think I’m cute? I wanna hear it from you, it’s not fair if I put the words in your mouth.”

Josuke gulped. She was dangerous, but she was also really damn cute.

“Daiya, I shouldn’t say this but, yes, you’re beautiful. I love you, I don’t know anybody else in this world but you and Norisuke, so please go out with me! I’ll even share a bed with you, if you want.” He wanted to mean what he said, but he felt like he was supposed to be saying it to somebody else, and the words to Daiya were just being filled in as a substitute for blank spaces.

“Ooh I’m so happy!” She jumped on him and brought the two to the ground.

Shaking his head to try and bound himself to his senses, Josuke pushed her off. “Put on some actual clothes, though, you’re acting indecent.”

That evening Josuke was guest of honor at the Higashikata’s dinner table, a role which felt exceptionally awkward with Daiya hijacking every conversation anyone tried to make with him to talk about how awesome he was. Each other member of the family took a turn at entertaining her for a few sentences before wavering onto a different subject matter.

Norisuke, for example, had moved on to trying to make a story about business cards engaging. “So, Ms.Nijimura, you remember how I was telling you about the Order Goods Business Show in Osaka?”

Nijimura nodded her head and muttered “mhm” with as much forced enthusiasm as a woman could put into a word without vowels.

Hato attempted to save her.“Jeez daddy, stop torturing the maid with your lame stories.”

The movement of everyone’s forks was abruptly stopped by the doors inside being shoved open and slammed shut. An irritable looking Joshu had appeared huffing and puffing in the living room.

“I’m back!” he indignantly announced, taking a wild sniff in the air. “Not that it seems anybody was waiting for me!”

Norisuke shook his head in disappointment. “Life doesn’t start and stop at your whims, boy. If you want to go galavanting on the streets instead of cleaning your bedroom, then you can accept reheated meat!”

The next morning opened with the rubber tires of Daiya’s bicycle smushing against the asphalt as she mounted it. “Alright, come on Josuke!” Daiya called back inside the house, with Josuke following out a short minute later. The two were off, only stopping for Josuke to hop off and open the gate. In doing so, he found a blue haired girl standing outside, someone he thought looked a bit familiar.

“Oh hey! Nice to see you again, thanks for the help pulling me out,” he casually said to the girl who had gotten him out of the ground. “Sorry about roping you into that mess at Kira’s place.” She seemed distraught at his nonchalant conversation, but Josuke ignored this as he went back to Daiya.

“Uh, wow? What the hell’s wrong with you? That’s all I get?” the girl demanded of them. She was getting angry, having had bad experiences with boys ignoring her calls and then blowing her off.

“What are you talking about, lady?”

“Ignore her, JoJo,” Daiya leaned in to whisper in his ear, although in a way that was still audible to Yasuho, “she’s sort of an attention whore.” She quickly snapped back to her cutesy voice. “Alright, I’ll pedal and I want you to sing Bicycle Race by Queen, okay? The part where Freddie Mercury sings ‘I like bicycles better than Star Wars.’”

Seeing that girl had reignited Josuke’s drive to get his stolen memories back, and he stood in strategic position for Daiya to step in his shadow if she got off the bike. “Daiya, honey, are you sure it’s safe to pedal down the road all by yourself like that? Maybe you should let me pedal instead.”

“I’m fine JoJo, it’s sweet how you worry about me, but I’ve done this a thousand times. Besides, I want you to hug me really tight from the back.”

“Daiya, I love you and all, but I really want those memories you took from me back. Step in my shadow right now, I’m warning you.”

Soft & Wet formed from a cluster of bubbles behind Josuke, its arm pointing towards Daiya as if it were a weapon.

“But Josuke, I want you to share your memories with me.” She smirked, and started wobbling her bike around. “If you don’t wanna stay with me, I guess I’ll just have to ride this bike out onto the road all by myself,” she said in faux-cluelessness and she pedaled herself towards the curb.

“Daiya no!” Josuke instinctively panicked and had Soft & Wet pull Daiya back, causing her and her bike to tumble safely to the ground. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, JoJo, that was a dirty trick. It was really really messed up of me to do that, even if I was gonna stop anyway, but I had to do it. Now, you’ve fussed over me once again.”

The clambering of soft squeaky toys emerged from the ground as California King Bed’s mocking smile quintet appeared again.

“Seriously? I owe a lot to your dad, but he raised you to be a nutcase!” Josuke sighed, noting the correlation with Joshu’s tendencies. “Sorry about this.” He shouted an “Ora!” as Soft & Wet punched California King Bed’s largest face. Unfortunately the attack did nothing, as California’s soft and fluffy texture absorbed the blow harmlessly, Soft & Wet’s fist sinking into it like it was a mattress. Its top left limb shot out past Soft & Wet and onto Josuke’s body, with his Stand disappearing as another memory-sealing chess token fell to the ground out of his head.

“Aha, I win! This one’s super interesting, it’s your memory of your Stand huh? ‘Soft & Wet’? Ah well, it’s not like you’ll be able to use it again. Even though you still possess the Stand itself, all your knowledge of its powers have been taken away! You have nothing else on God’s green Earth than me now. Come on now, we gotta go shopping for you! I’ll buy you toothpaste, and some socks and underwear. I’ll even get myself some! Then we’ll go to that outlet store with all the imported beauty products and pick up som-” Daiya stopped her manic speech with a wave of realization crossing her brain. “Hey wait, my phone’s gone. Did I leave it in the house?”

“If I can put this in simple terms, I hid it,” Josuke replied, with nothing in his head but his conflicting love for Daiya and determination to get what she had stolen from him back. “You told me before you like being fair, so I’ll return the favor and come right out and say it: I hid it inside the refrigerator.”

“You what? This is another trick to try and take our memories together away again isn’t it? Well nice try, but you’ll have to go in and get it yourself, come on!” she angrily dragged Josuke back in the house and to the kitchen.

“I’m sure you’re banking on me stepping in your shadow cast by the fridge light, so you march over there and open it yourself!”

Josuke did as ordered, and the phone started ringing shortly after he picked it up.

“I’ll answer it, but close that fridge door first!” Hearing the unmistakable thump of the door being shut, Daiya snatched the phone from his hand and answered it.

“JoJo, are you with Daiya? Why are you acting so weird?”

“Quiet you!” Daiya snarled at her. “You had your chance with JoJo, he’s mine now!” Daiya still put in an effort to keep the lie she put forth to cover up his missing memories consistent.

“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong," Josuke proclaimed confidently. California King Bed involuntarily appeared behind Daiya, and the chess piece of Soft & Wet’s memory broke apart into dust in her hand, the blue orb in the center flying back into Josuke’s body, followed by the ones of Yasuho’s tender experiences with him.

“No way! How can I be stepping in your shadow in here?”

“The answer is simple, you little psycho. When I hid your phone before, I took a video of me shutting the fridge door. When you heard the door shutting again just now, it was really me playing the video back again!”

“No!”

“I beat you, fair and square,” Josuke taunted. “Now listen up, I won’t hate you completely if you answer me one question truthfully. Did your father order you to attack me? I originally thought your power is what took my memories to begin with, but that’s evidently not the case since I still can’t remember my past before being buried underground.”

“Eh? No, I really don’t know anything about what the deal between you and daddy is!”

“Alright, I believe you, but give me the phone now.”

Daiya regretfully handed it over. “Yasuho, it’s me, you saved me again there. I’m sure you’re really confused right now, but just know that everything is fine. It seems Ojiro Sasame and I aren’t the only Stand wielding weirdos in this city.”

On the other side of the phone, Yasuho had sweat trailing down her forehead. “Huh? Tell me you’re not saying… Joshu’s sister is magic too!?”

“His entire family are, most likely,” Josuke pondered out loud. “Although that creepy guy Joshu… I don’t think he was able to see Soft & Wet back at the Wall Eyes…”

“Um, I’m not really sure who else in my family is a Stand user,” Daiya chimed back in, speaking voice reduced to a meek tone.

Josuke turned his neck back towards her. “Hm? And why do you think I’m gonna trust you anytime soon?”

“Josuke, I’m really sorry. It’s just that my whole life, I feel like nobody’s ever really loved me, they just treat me like a dumb little girl because of my vision. But the way I treated you was no better, and I’m not just saying that because you beat me! I really screwed up!” She was bawling now. “So please don’t hate me! I know you’re in love with Yasuho but can we at least still be friends together? You don’t have any memories, so I just wanted to be able to make new ones with you!”

“Daiya… You didn’t ‘make’ any memories with me at all, you just leeched onto ones I already had. We’re not lovers or friends!”

She bowed her head, fringe shadowing her face.

“I do kind of hate you, but it seems like you’re just a dumb kid and weren’t trying to hurt me, so I'll give you the chance to make up for yourself. I’ll still hang around you and listen to music or whatever, if only to get your dad off my back, but you’re never using your Stand on me again! Got it?”

“Never! I swear! Even if she activates by herself I’ll give the memory back right away!”

Josuke looked at the phone he was holding, a little light bulb clicking on above his head. “And as punishment, you have to let me use your phone whenever I want! I have a feeling I'm gonna need it, because I swear to it that no matter what other bizarre powers might be hiding inside this city, I’ll find out where in the world I came from!”

Chapter Text

Josuke’s nights were oft troubled with questions and nightmares, sleep being of little help in relieving him from his inherently troubled existence. He was especially unsure what to make of the Higashikata Family. They were kind but idiosyncratic to be sure, and something seemed to rift them with the utmost subtlety. He had voiced-by-proxy their housekeeper’s aggressive words to Yasuho, but within half an hour or so it seemed swept away in a closet.

“Gooood morning Josuke!”

He was becoming progressively integrated to mornings in 3121 Hill, and today's was ushered in by Daiya standing over his bed, not that he could see her until he took the mattress off from on top of him. “Did you sleep okay?”

Josuke rubbed his eyes as he emerged from his makeshift bed-cave. “Better than I did in a jail cell. Although I’d like some more pressure on my mattress.”

“Maybe we could find you an extra chair to put on top,” Daiya suggested, wholly accepting Josuke’s odd bed arrangement.

“Why’d you wake me up so early?” He rubbed his eyes as he looked at the barely dawn sky. He took a minute to register that she was out of her usual soft pyjamas, instead having some kind of bathing suit held halfway on.

“So I got this swimsuit and it’s a one piece but you’re supposed to tie it together from the back, well I lost one side of the tie and now I think it’s all twisted up and I can’t see it because it’s pink against pink and I’ve been trying for like 20 minutes to find it but I really can’t so can you spot me here?”

Josuke obliged and wrapped her up, taking until he was done to ask

“Daiya, why are you in a swimsuit?”

“Oh! Nobody told you?” she motioned for Josuke to follow her out to the living room while she talked. “So before you came along, we had a family trip to Hawaii planned, we were even meant to meet back up with Joby there,” Daiya explained, affectionately referring to her oldest sibling while shoving her hair inside of a swim cap which matches the color of her suit. “But then Hato went all bimbo and forgot to renew her passport, so we had to cancel. Good thing we did though, otherwise we wouldn’t have met you!” she beamed.

“In my defense!” Hato, clad in what the magazine she modeled for described as “a trendy and flattering designer black bikini”, came dashing from her room to clear her good name. “Hawaii so seems like a Japanese place! Pearl Harbor and Kamehameha and stuff are all written in kanji! I mean nobody told me Hawaii’s a part of the US!”

“Not our fault you didn’t pay any attention in geography. So anyways JoJo, since that got cancelled, we decided we’d just have a Hawaii vacation in our own home! Get dressed in swimsuits, and have a luxurious pancake breakfast!”

Josuke leaned over to look at Ms.Nijimura preparing stack upon stack of pancakes in the kitchen, nodding along and muttered about how crazy the story Norisuke was telling her was.

“I feel bad you don’t have a swimsuit to join us with, JoJo,” Norisuke said as they entered the scene, displaying a proud dad bod. Mitsuba and Tsurugi came in behind them. “You should let me run and buy you one.”

“Uh, that’s fine,” Josuke muttered out.

“I mean the sailor clothes are still adjacent,” Mitsuba commented while Tsurugi snatched the sunglasses she had hung on her neckline and fidgeted with them.

“Joshu!” Norisuke bellowed as the final present household member crawled in from the garage. “Why don’t you have your swimsuit on, boy?”

“Because I don’t believe in God.”

“What the hell are you talking about Joshu?” Mitsuba groaned.

“Well in life, nobody’s looking out for you. Even if you do everything perfectly, eventually there’s gonna be some kind of disaster in your life. So I’d never get on something as dangerous as an airplane to begin with.”

“Ah that’s so dumb,” Hato countered back. “Even I know that airplanes are way safer than cars are.”

“Nah you got it wrong all of you.” Joshu had decided this would be the hill he died on today. “If you’re driving a car and you crash, it’s only your own fault. Even if somebody else hits you, you have the chance to dodge. It’s all up to you. So the only reason there’s so many car crashes is because most people driving are morons! On the other hand, if you get on an airplane, you’re entrusting your life to some stranger. I’d swim to Hawaii before I’d let Captain Chester Chucklenuts fly me in the 90,000 pound death machine soaring through the sky, knowing it could come crashing down at any second!”

“Great, not only is my oldest daughter an idiot, now I got Joshu going around being a Nihilistic Nancy!” Norisuke groaned and shoved his fist to his forehead.

“You guys gotta learn to see the bright side of things. I mean it sucks that our trip had to get cancelled, but if we weren’t still here in Morioh a week ago, we would’ve never met JoJo! Oh and he’d still be locked up in that jail cell, all cold and alone,” Daiya cuddled against him as she recounted their fortune, Josuke having to pry her off like the lid off a can.

“Just sit down and eat some pancakes boy!” Norisuke pounded his fist on the table like an angry ape. “Can we please just have a nice not-poolside breakfast as a family for Pete’s sake!”

“Hey momma,” Tsurugi tugged on Mitsuba’s bikini string for her attention. “I think the milk is past the expiration date,” she explained, pointing to the previous day’s date printed on the top of the carton.

“Ah ha!” Joshu pointed an accusatory finger across the entire table. “See! This has turned out a disaster anyways!”

“Nonsense.” Norisuke face palmed in agony. “That’s just when the store puts out new stock. Milk is fine one day past the expiry.”

“We’ll see about that when you’re all in the hospital getting your stomachs pumped!” Joshu picked up a single pancake and gave it a sniff out of suspicion. “Hey Ms.Nijimura, you didn’t use that milk when you made these, did you?” Nijimura, for her trouble, barely blinked at him.

“Grandpa’s right,” Tsurugi decided. “I mean the milk isn’t chunky or anything and it still smells okay. One day doesn’t matter.”

“Now you’ve got the girl brainwashed! Sick! Don’t listen to them Tsurugi, you can’t just tightrope through life going ‘it’s only one day’, you gotta learn to have boundaries!”

Josuke made a mental note to tell Yasuho about the irony of Joshu talking about boundaries next time he saw her.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Joshu. When you were little you would’ve cheerfully scarfed down half that stack already! You gotta find something to like about life again,” Norisuke lamented.

“Yeah, just learn to appreciate the little things,” Hato added. “Like how we have this milk at all. If you don’t believe in God, how do you explain why we got our little cow friends to give us milk, huh?”

“How can you call cows our friends? I don’t wanna be grouped in with some fat animal that sits in the mud all day!”

“So then Rainbow ended up sticking around, and Ritchie Blackmore never did end up having a solo career,” Daiya concluded her history of Deep Purple’s guitarist with. “You know JoJo, you always listen to me talk about prog rock and Hello Kitty and stuff, what sorts of things are you interested in?”

“Interested in?”

“Yeah like, I dunno, it doesn’t seem like you really have a hobby. I mean, what sorts of stuff do you do when I go to school?”

“Uh, not really your business,” Josuke replied.

“Sounds like code for ‘nothing’, hehe. Seems like your memories aren’t coming back in anytime soon, so you should try to get a job or an education or something.” Her face suddenly lit up. “You should ask if he’ll send you to the Hasekura School with me!”

“Crochet-what School?”

“No silly,” Daiya said as she changed into her school uniform. “The Hasekura Center of Sendai. That’s where I go. It's run by some guy from Tokyo, and it’s mostly students who have disabilities. I’m nearly blind of course, and I have a friend who has issues with her heart, that type of thing. I’m not sure, but I’d imagine complete amnesia would probably count. Everybody says school, but it's also sort of a student community centre, so aside from the normal classes they have a ton of electives and humanities classes and stuff; the music teacher Ms.Tsuji is the one who introduced me to 70s music, and my friend takes a lot of literature focused things ‘cause she’s obsessed with folklore and fairy tales. So I bet you could find a class of something you like!” Daiya finished getting dressed and did a little twirl. “Speaking of which, I gotta go catch the bus. I’ll see you later JoJo!”

“And if I find something I’m interested in, I might even be able to get a job doing it, and I could pitch in a bit more than just taking care of Daiya,” Josuke finished pitching the idea Daiya told him to Norisuke. “I’d like my own cell phone too if that’s possible. I’ve just been using Daiya’s when she’s home, but if I had to go to school or work I’d need my own.”

“Who are you gonna call?” Joshu demanded, having been nosing in on the conversation. “The Underground Mole People?”

“No, it’d probably mostly be Yasuho,” Josuke smirked as he cupped his hand around his mouth and whispered in Joshu’s direction.

“You take her name out of your mouth you bastard!”

“Joshu! Here you go again being a jerk for no reason. Just for that, I think you’ll be the one who walks Josuke over to the Hasekura School.”

“Bullshit! I don’t have time to be wasting babysitting him! I might’ve been a little crass, but it’s not like I was lying! How the hell are you gonna get him a job if he’s not even in the family registry!”

“I’ll have to look into it, but in the meantime take him over and ask if they’ll check him academically. If those tightwad bastards wanna charge, tell them to just fold it into Daiya’s next tuition bill. You don’t have anything better to do anyways, I know your classes today aren’t until evening.”

“Man, can’t believe I gotta waste my good time doing this. I could give you a school test in 5 minutes damn it! Here!” Joshu shoved his phone in Josuke’s face, a web page displaying a math problem. It was a quintet of right angles arranged into an uneven star.

“【Problem 56】A°+B°+C°+D°+E° | What is the area of the inside of this figure”

“Can you do this?”

Josuke looked it over for a second, then typed in his answer, the page changing to a congratulatory screen on getting it right.

Josuke flipped his wrist around to show Joshu this outcome, which earned a groan out of the latter.

“Hah! I bet you think you beat me, huh? Listen here, Yasuho is my woman! You got me?” Joshu pulled an ornate pocket knife out from his pants, waving it against Josuke.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Josuke nonchalantly replied.

“Back at the Wall Eyes, all that happened is that I tripped, and then got bitten by some weird animal, so I passed out. You didn’t beat me! Got it? Yasuho’s not yours, she loves me. She even let me kiss her, it was a deep passionate one.” He stuck out his tongue at Josuke and started kissing the air to demonstrate.

“Is this guy a Stand user, or does he say this dumb shit just beecause he can? Even though I'm treated well by them, I really don’t know anything about the Higashikata Family. I can’t let my guard down, especially around these weird kids.”

Joshu kept talking about the several times he and Yasuho almost had sex for a few minutes while they walked, until suddenly he came to a frightful stop.

“Shit! I should’ve realized we were gonna go through there. This is bad.”

“What now?” Josuke rolled his eyes.

“Uh, listen dude. I’ve been screwing with you this whole time, but this isn’t a trick. I mean it. You see past that curve in the road over there.” Joshu pointed his arm past the upcoming bend in the road.

“Yeah?”

“That place, it’s called ‘Shakedown Road’, or ‘Deadman’s Curve’ if you’re from the South Side. But either way, it’s a place that’s bad news. It’s really pretty because there’s a bunch of ginkgo tree leaves, but a few years ago I went down there and got extorted! That’s the type of place it is, it’s full of people who want to scam you!”

“Like a gang?” Josuke was pretty confident he could take down some street thugs with Soft & Wet, but if there was some kind of organization of Stand users there it could be bad news.

“I’m uh, not sure. I know plenty of guys who live by here and not one of them’s a bad guy, they’re all pretty nice. It’s not really something people talk about, it’s just that if you know you know. If we go back though, dad will get mad at me and think I was just making excuses.”

“You wanna call a cab to drive through or something?” Josuke suggested.

“Nah nah, I got this.” Joshu’s frightful expression turned to a sneaky grin. “You’re a smart guy Josuke. You’ve got brains, and I got street smarts. How’s about you and I pull a switcheroo on these fucks? We can pull one over on them and get revenge, and get a sweet sweet profit out of it!”

“That doesn’t sound very ethically sound.” Josuke considered the offer anyway though.

“You don’t get it, man, everything’s just about appearances these days. Nobody really cares about being a good person or following the rules. You gotta be able to strike before you get struck! I know you’re a smart guy and all, but without any memories you’ll be an easier target than a baby! They’ll suck you dry and you’ll never even realize it!”

Josuke felt insulted by Joshu’s description, but didn’t have much of another option. Besides, Joshu did seem genuinely scared of this road, and seemed pleased with his own idea.

“Okay, I’m not committing to any kind of crime movie heist here, but I’ll check this place out with you.”

The street was lined with trees, Joshu wasn’t kidding about that. There were dozens of them, their angular crowns dotting every inch of the street, and the forking branches reaching up with hands out of a crowd to heights of 20 to 35 metres.

For every tree, however, there had to be 500 leaves. Golden ginkgo leaves, everywhere. You might think the sidewalks were made of them instead of bricks. If it weren’t for the denizens taking care to not step on them, Josuke figured he would’ve gone deaf from the sound of them crunching.

The street was densely populated. An old man in a beret and his dog on a bench, three thuggish kids around Josuke and Joshu’s age loitering around in heavy coats and ear muffs, a mom and her daughter taking a walk.

“So every time you go down this road, you get extorted?” Josuke asked.

“Well, like I said, I avoid this place, I dunno how it is if you cross through here everyday. But I can assure you that everybody I’ve ever talked to knows about the Shakedown Road.”

“Who was it then?” Josuke pointed at the hoodlum looking trio. “Was it those guys?”

Joshu pulled his arm down, but cocked his head. “Well, I don’t think so.” He squinted at them. “Maybe? I’m not sure.”

“What about any of those guys?” Leaves crinkled beneath Josuke’s feet as he repositioned himself, trying to get a profile of everybody around them.

“Excuse me.”

Josuke and Joshu stopped in their tracks. It was that lady with her daughter, having suddenly approached them from behind.

“I’m terribly sorry, but you just stepped on something, right? I was looking in that beautique window for a second, so I missed it, but based on the position it could’ve only been you guys.”

Joshu craned his neck around in faux-confusion. “You talking to us? Beat it! We don’t know what you’re going on about.”

“Such an attitude, I guess kids these days aren’t taught how to act. What kind of world do we live in that a little girl can’t even play on a bench without some teenage punks coming along and stomping on her toy?”

Josuke and Joshu looked back to the bench, and her daughter was cradled up sobbing, a broken up toy compact sitting on the ground beneath her.

“See what you did?”

“I didn’t do shit, lady.” Joshu turned away from her madly wagging finger. “Stop getting up in my face, I’m not involved with this.”

“How’d the sticker get on your shoe then? It’s a teddy bear right?”

Josuke looked down at Joshu’s shoe, trying to see what she was talking about. “No way. Joshu, your shoe!”

Joshu twisted his ankle up to confirm the exact sticker was indeed stuck crumpled up on his left sneaker.

“Santa’s gonna be so mad I broke the magic compact he brought me!” The girl whined from the bench.

“Hey lady,” Josuke went to Joshu’s defense. “How do we know this isn’t some kind of set up! You probably left that sticker there and just waited for someone to step on it!”

“Josuke, watch out,” Joshu shushed him as the three thugs and the old man with the dog started to walk to the scene. The woman jumped back to her daughter and picked her, cooing her for sympathy.

“Miss, are you alright?” the old man asked. “What are you boys up to over there?”

“If there’s some kind of trouble,” one of the thugs coughed, “there’s a cop over there. Want me to call him over?”

“Hey hey.” Joshu was starting to sweat bullets. “Come on guys, nobody likes the cops. That’s a little far just because I stepped on some cheap toy isn’t it?” Josuke glared at Joshu over what he just said. “Or uh, I didn’t step on it. I think maybe she knocked it against me or something,” he repeatedly attempted to correct.

“Look, there’s a shoe print on it! I know my sneakers, and it matches what tent hair there has on exactly!” the tallest thug shouted.

Joshu was in shock. “Uh, come on guys. There there, little miss, I’m sorry,” Joshu tried appealing to the sense of justice of the common child.

“Mama, why’d he call my magic compact cheap. I thought Santa made that in his workshop just for me!”

“She’s really phoning it in,” Josuke thought.

“If it’s so cheap,” the final thug said, “you shouldn’t have any problem paying for it, right?”

Joshu let out some ums and ahs as he reluctantly reached into his wallet and slipped a bill to the mother.

“Guess maybe this can come close to mending a girl’s broken heart.”

Josuke watched in amazement as the old man and the thugs walked away as quickly as they had come.

“God damn it!” Joshu cursed as he and Josuke fled further down the street.

“Was that what happened to you before? That woman extorted you?”

“No no, I remember now, last time it was two middle aged guys. Everybody on the road is a crook!”

“Joshu,” Josuke was starting to doubt the mental stability of his companion, a suspicion that Yasuho’s accounts supported. “Did you step on that girl’s mirror?”

“No way! Maybe I knocked into it or something but-”

“But the sticker on your shoe. And the shoe print on the mirror. I’m not a sneakerhead - well maybe I will be by the end of the day, but right now I’m not - so I couldn’t tell you if it was really your shoe print, but this seems really elaborate to be a set up. And all for what, what’d you give her?”

“3000.”

“That’s barely enough for fast food. I don’t wanna get on your bad side, but are you sure you didn’t step on it? Maybe your nerves just got to you and you weren’t paying attention to what you were doing.”

“No way man! You saw how those other guys all ganged up on us, but stopped caring when she got the money. They gotta be in on it!” He did have a point there. “Alright, I got it. You go down the street again, and I’ll follow from a distance and film you on my phone the whole time! That way if somebody tries to hold us up again, we can see if they set us up! If we have proof against somebody trying to scam us, we can blackmail them instead!”

Josuke had to concede to himself that this was a pretty solid plan. He didn’t have any money anyway, and if things got too heated he’d just save himself and Joshu with Soft & Wet.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, are you alright?”

What now? It was that old guy.

“Shut up, old bag!” Joshu lashed out on a hair trigger. “I’m not talking to you!”

“And I’m not talking to you, sonny, I’m asking about your friend there. There’s blood on his sleeve!”

Huh? He was right, Josuke’s sleeve was stained with blood. He didn’t notice himself getting injured.

“Uh, yeah, I must have just cut myself somehow.”

“Good, good,” the man said as his dog panted beside him. “You being unhurt is what really matters, but I’m a struggling business owner, so I’m gonna be forced to ask for some compensation for my tank.” Josuke and Joshu’s eyes panned to behind the old man, revealing a pet shop with an outside displayed fish tank, the glass panels of which were laying shattered about. “Don’t try walking away and acting all confused, I saw it happened. The goldfish are probably fine, but you cut up that poor turtle. That’s where the blood on your sleeve is from, you little fork tongue!” The old man crouched down and retrieved the aforementioned turtle, which had its nose sliced clean off.

“Poor little guy is still going, but I think I’ll have to put him out of his misery. This isn’t some common river turtle you know. He’s from Ecuador, and cost 330,000 yen.”

“You got the wrong guy, or this is a set up,” Josuke stood firm. “What kind of pet shop would leave a tank unsecured outside anyways? I bet it’s been there the whole time, and you splashed that blood on me when I wasn’t looking.”

“I’ll have you know I was moving that tank! My old bones can’t carry like they used to, so I had to sit down for a second.”

“Well I ain’t worth 330,000 yen, I barely even have an ID, so good luck to you.” Josuke turned to walk away.

“Listen here boy.” The old man switched from the tired old grandfather to a more sinister voice. “This place is Shakedown Road, or Deadman’s Curve, if you’re from the South Side. I’m a veteran here. I’m the veteran. If you don’t pay up I’ll give you hell. You have a dad? Sure he’d love to hear about this.”

“Jokes on you geezer! I was filming the whole time!” Joshu jumped up and down in glee. “We got it all on tape!” he ended his recording and played it back, looking to see the moment when the old man threw blood on Josuke.

Except that moment never came.

Instead, about a minute into the video, Josuke moved backwards. He didn’t walk backwards, he was pulled back, and into the tank just like the old man said, before he was instantly sent back where he started.

Shit.

“It looks like he was moved by… the leaves? ” Joshu started in horror at the piles and piles of leaves coating the street around them.

“Josuke,” he hoarsely whispered as he pulled him in tight. “We’re fucked. You really did smash the tank.”

“No way! I never walked over there!”

“That’s the thing, you didn’t walk, you were pulled back somehow!” Joshu left out the somehow, deciding to keep his observation that the ginkgo tree leaves were at fault to himself. He even held his fingers across the screen in just the right position to obscure that detail from Josuke as he confirmed his story with the video.

Josuke decided there was no doubt about it now, this place was a crime bracket run by a Stand user.

“Soft & Wet!” Josuke screamed as he brought out his Stand and went to pummel the old man in the face. The old man…

did nothing.

“What was that sonny?”

“He can’t see it? The user must be hiding somewhere else then.” Josuke zipped from spot to spot trying to find another person nearby. “Come out you bastard! I know your power now! Is it perhaps magnetism?”

“Josuke, calm down dude, you’re spazzing out.” Joshu was cursing his dad for leaving him with this nutcase.

Well, if he knew the trick now, he didn’t need Josuke. Now was his big break.

“Don’t you have a Stand, Joshu? We’re being attacked.”

“Stand of what? You’re freaking me out, dude.”

“Don’t try to scare me off, boy. I have friends in every high school and university around here, you wouldn’t want your teachers to see you acting like this, would you? Actually I think I recognize your pal there, aren’t you from the Higashikata Family?”

“The Who?” Joshu played dumb.

“Ah, my favorite band,” the old man laughed. “You two are already screwed, so just give me what you have on you. I’ll consider it my ‘down payment’, and I’ll track you down for the rest later.”

“Don’t do it Joshu! I’m not joking, this is an attack!”

“Josuke, just let me get us out of here. We can scam somebody else out of the rest of the money, we just need to leave this old man.” Joshu had a tear in his eyes as he forked over his wallet’s 20,000 contents to the pet shop owner.

“This guy’s weird as shit.” Joshu decided to have a conversation with himself while Josuke was running up and down to every person on the street. “I see it now, these people who hang out here know to avoid stepping on the leaves. If I can just trick somebody into getting on some, I could shake them down like we’ve been. I wonder what would happen if I picked some up and threw them at somebody’s feet myself. ”

“Joshu! Give me your phone, I need to take a video myself this time.”

“Uh, sure, just don’t drop it. It’s an expensive model.”

What a stroke of luck! Josuke’s in debt now anyways, he might as well add the cost of his phone on top of that.

“Hey you guys!”

Shit, not again. It was those three thugs! They ganged up on Josuke and Joshu, speaking in turns.

“Hoo boy. You’ve gone and done it now.”

“Haven’t seen you here before. You think it’s cool to just come here and dick around!”

Josuke and Joshu stood silent.

“What? Nothing to say?”

“Must be practicing for when they’re corpses.”

“Or maybe they think the ol’ ‘me no speak Nihongo’ plan will work on us.”

“Oh, are you speaking Japanese? My mistake, I thought it was Human-Piece-of-Trashenese.” Joshu was real proud of himself for that one.

The three started collectively laughing with an awful mule-like hee haw.

“You got a lot of nerve breaking my phone like that!” The tallest, most well built thug said, gesturing to a cracked up smartphone thrown in a puddle.

“Bullshit!” Joshu cried. “My phone was supposed to be the one that got broken!” Josuke looked at him in confusion. “I mean, what?”

“Joshu, just let me look at the video. I was filming as soon as you handed the phone to me.”

Josuke played his video, and was dismayed but not surprised to find it showed him sliding away from and back to Joshu. He calculated that he had been moved about 5 metres, right to the position of the cell phone. He brought Soft & Wet out, and again none of them reacted to it. Josuke considered just beating the thugs down, but that might’ve brought out the wrath of the user, and it was too dangerous when he still didn’t understand the power’s full capacity.

“Don’t worry guys, we ain’t like those old cheapskates, we ain’t gonna make you pay. We just want you to do us a little favor as payback.”

“You see that flower pot over there?” the medium sized thug started instructing them. “Don’t come near us, just walk to the flowerpot.”

Josuke and Joshu stood still.

“C’mon do it.” the largest thug spoke up now, his towering stature beat only by the gigantic ginkgo tree he stood in the shadow of, its leaves cascading around the entire street. “We’ve been waiting forever for a chance like this. That’s just what the rule is, you come here, you get shaken down for money! You outta be thanking us that all we want is some free work. Now lift up the damn flowerpot!”

Joshu did as told and found a paper package underneath, a tiny bow half-heartily wrapped around the paper’s form to keep it in place.

“Now ya see that girl over there, by the bridge?”

Josuke and Joshu looked over to see her. She wore a dangerously short skirt and a frumpy crop top, which was torn at the neckline to show off a pair of suspiciously gravity defying breasts.

“50 centimetres.” Josuke noted. “That’s gotta be bigger than her head. Hope her back doesn’t hurt too bad.”

While Joshu stayed focused on the boobs, Josuke took notice of two sharply dressed men patrolling the area by her.

“Just go hand the package to her, and I’ll forgive you for breaking my phone. The phone I value almost as much as my life!” The tall thug cracked his knuckles.

‘Well hold on!” Joshu snapped out of it. “Just what exactly is in the package now?”

“What would you do even if we told you?” the middle thug asked. “Just pick it up and go. You’re just giving a package to a girl, no need to worry about anything else.”

Josuke had picked up the box and shaken it. “A rustling sound,” he whispered to himself, “and no scent. If I use my soap bubbles to empty this out, they’ll probably see.”

“When Big-Tits over there pulls up her dress to show you her tattoo, just nod your heads and hand over the box, alright?” the small thug drilled. Josuke nodded. “Repeat back to me just to make sure. What do you do when you see the girl’s tattoo?”

“Nod and hand her the box.” Josuke and Joshu said in unison.

“And you don’t hand her the box until…”

“We see her tattoo.”

“Good job boys! I knew you had it in you! Now go get ‘em!”

“Uh, hold on,” Joshu interjected. “What about those two guys, are they cops?”

“Who cares,” the medium sized thug said. “I’m pretty sure I heard you say it yourself earlier: Nobody likes the cops.”

“Look, no cops are following anybody,” the tall thug said. “Us, you guys, and that girl are totally unrelated, so you don’t gotta worry about nothing. We’re just doing her a favor.”

“Yeah right,” Joshu thought. While getting a load of her big knockers, Joshu noticed that she also had a bag, a fine leather one. Considering what type of exchange this clearly was, he was pretty confident that there was mad cash in that bag. It was almost too predictable: She’d put the bag on the leaves and send it down to the thugs. All he had to do was swipe the cash out of it midway through, and make a run for it. He’d leave Josuke to take the fall, sure, but once he had gotten away he could probably get dad to bail him out again.

Surrounded by those green-yellow fan shaped leaves, Josuke and Joshu began their task.

The girl remained silent as she nearly flashed them, stopping just short of her underwear to display a heart with a revolver taped around it inked on her thighs. Josuke and Joshu nodded, and the former reached out to hand her the package. Joshu felt the leaves starting to shift beneath their feet as the girl’s skirt lift transitioned to a squat and she gingerly placed her bag on a trail of them.

Josuke felt the bottom of his pants grow damp, having thrown a bubble around each foot going into the ground, anchoring him in place safe from the ability.

Suddenly their hearts all dropped as they were startled by a pained yell from behind them. It was one of the two men in suits, presumably cops, who had been right behind them the entire time. One of them had been knocked backwards, his nose lined with blood.

Josuke gasped as he looked down and realized his anchor bubbles had popped. He wasn’t just being pulled around by a Stand like with Fun Fun Fun, something physical was moving him. Some tangible object had come and popped the bubbles.

“Get down!” the remaining cop shouted before Josuke slid into him again, his elbow smashing into the cop’s face.

It was the leaves. He realized it too late, but it was the leaves that were moving him. Those tiny fans were what had shifted him around and shredded his bubbles.

The first cop had gotten back up and tackled Josuke, their tussle moving them off the pile of leaves into the great shadow of a ginkgo tree, with Josuke nearly being curbstomped as he was handcuffed.

“I’m placing you under arrest for assault of an officer and suspected possession of narcotics.”

Joshu had hid behind a mailbox, his suspicions were confirmed as he saw the woman walk away with a different bag than the one she had before.

“I knew it. This was a distraction all along. That box Josuke had probably doesn’t even have real drugs in it, it was just to distract the cops while they made the real transaction.” Joshu chuckled and he flipped through the stack of crisp bills he had been just quick enough to swipe out of Big-Tit’s bag while it was sliding by him.

“No way.” Josuke was momentarily distracted from his second arrest in twelve days by the sight he had on the ground. Underneath the leaves, under all of them rustling and moving about, they were creatures; Not living animals, but a colony of ghostly beings. Tiny green or brown disks with suction cup hands and tiny nubbed heads. Their most striking feature was that they had a distinct number “11” on them, patched in the other color from the one their body was.

Josuke looked up and down the street for a user, but soon had an epiphany.

The trees.

The spirits were in those Autumn Leaves clouding the streets, the ones that had fallen from the ginkgo trees.

Shakedown Road was truly a natural phenomena, a magic manifested from the ground similar to the Wall Eyes. The leaf creatures were like a colony of Stand, emerging from the trees themselves, the makeup of the road their master.

“Excuse me, Ms.Higashikata.”

Daiya was stopped as she was navigating down the halls. She recognized the voice as Headmaster Hasekura himself.

“Yes sir?” She put on an overly formal demeanor which would’ve made anybody surprised to see her tendencies at home.

“Earlier your father had phoned to tell us that your older brother was bringing in a family friend to get evaluated, and yet we haven’t heard from them all afternoon. Do you have any idea when they’re supposed to arrive?”

“Oh no sir, that’d be Joshu and Josuke, it’s not that long of a walk away; I don’t know what could be taking them so long. I hope they didn’t come across any trouble.”

“What’d Hasekura want with you?” Daiya’s friend Kohaku questioned her when she caught up to her in class.

“I told you about that cute guy we’ve been taking care of right?”

“Mhm. He’s basically your boyfriend right?”

“Yeah basically. Well today I told him he should try to get in here since he didn’t really have anything to do all day. I guess dad told Joshu to come bring him in, but they never showed up. Hope uggo didn’t get them in trouble,” she sighed. “Did my bow get crooked?”

Kohaku nodded and fixed it for her, her fingers lingering on her hair for a second. “No offense but Joshu’s a complete loser.”

“None taken,” Daiya giggled, interrupting.

“Well, like I was saying, what kind of trouble could somebody like him possibly get into? He’s not really the type to pull off a grand heist.”

The thug trio were chuckling to themselves as they opened up Big-Tit’s cash bag to reveal the glorious sight of that sweet sweet

nothing.

Joshu didn’t think he could run as fast as 100, 200, and 4 × 100 metres sprint relay record holder Usain Bolt, but he probably came at least a little bit close as he booked it down that street with the thug’s money.

He was kept going by the high of peeling over those crisp bills in his finger, that sweet soft papery feel.

“Ow!” Joshu shook off the pain of his pricked finger. “What the hell? There’s a bunch of screws in here! That girl was probably trying to make the bag feel heavier so they’d think there was more money in it or something,” he shrugged as he threw the pile of screws behind him.

“It’s that tent hair bastard! He swiped the cash!”

“Dumbass thinks he can get away. Come on, let’s show him what he gets with messing for Shakedown Road pros!”

Even 100, 200, and 4 × 100 metres sprint relay record holder Usain Bolt couldn’t have escaped the thugs as they surfed along those Autumn Leaves to Joshu, leaping off and landing in front of him before they made their return trip.

The tallest thug rushed Joshu and slammed his fist against his head before he even had time to react. “You dipshit, there’s nobody here who’s better at using the leaves’ movement than us! You’re gonna fucking pay. Lil’ Thompson!” he commanded the smallest thug, “Keep a look out for those cops!” He pulled out a switch blade and held it against Joshu’s throat as the medium thug placed him in a choke hold.

Joshu winced, unable to open his eyes. He hoped only that his brother would be the one to ID his body. He knew dad wouldn’t be able to handle it.

He apologized to God for doubting him when he heard the sound of a power drill, asking him to be merciful enough to have them drill into his brain, not his eyes.

“What the fuck! How’d you stab me?”

“Huh?”

Joshu managed to peel his eyes open and saw that the big thug had a screw jutting out of the big thug’s knife hand. It looked just like one of the ones he threw out earlier. Had it moved here on the leaves somehow?

The big thug yanked the screw out of his hand, which Joshu expected to leave a bleeding cut that he could use as a chance to get away while he was distracted.

Instead, his entire hand fell clean off, clunking on the ground like an old potato a housewife dropped while making stew.

All three thugs screamed in horror, while Joshu himself groaned as that bite mark on his ankle stung with pain again. The sound of drills was still going, but he realized nobody had one.

It had awoken.

Joshu leaped as he glanced behind him. There was somebody there. No, not somebody, something.

It was human shaped, but with a purple head that had no nose or mouth, only bugging yellow eyes. While it had a big black V-shaped antenna positioned as eyebrows, the rest of its head was patterned like a pin cushion with screws stuck along the middle to match. Its neck was obscured by a giant collar made of bolts. The torso mixed in the purple with white in a pattern of up-pointing triangles, before going into wide stripes of alternating colors between the chest and legs, with a little gold bar stuck on like a name tag. It had thin spindly arms and stark white legs, both with nuts and screws stuck in haphazardly.

It was on all fours, weight supported on its knees as it picked up one of its hands and gave a friendly wave to Joshu, who had calmed his breathing while taking it in.

“Kamen Rider?” he asked, swearing it looked just like an action figure he once owned. It shook its head.

The thugs yelled as they tried to take another swing at Joshu, prompting his new friend to rise up and throw fisticuffs at them all. With each strike another screw would appear as their scar, and they'd spin out into the air, detaching bits and bobs of the thugs' arms and legs as they did so, until they all laid crippled on the ground.

“You! You’re helping me?”

It nodded, and alternated between pointing at Joshu and itself.

“Alright! Take that you greasy slop jockeys!” Joshu gloated over the defeated thugs. “I’m the King of Shakedown Road now! ‘King’, I like the sound of that. Let’s name you ‘Nut King’, ‘Nut King Call.’”

Nut King Call nodded again enthusiastically. “Alright Nut King Call, let’s make sure these guys never fuck with anybody again.” Joshu concentrated on his command and Nut King Call followed it, reassembling the thugs’ limbs. “If I ever see you guys again, I’ll tear apart your arms and unscrew you dicks!” With that, Joshu and Nut King Call ran away in victory.

The thugs were still recovering from what just happened, relieved to be back to normal.

Until they all sequentially noticed that their left and right hands had been switched.

“I’m opening the bag,” the other cop than the one who had Josuke handcuffed announced. He sliced it open and dumped it out on a towel, only to find quite the opposite of the expected brick of coke.

“It’s just candy,” he remarked upon the pile of bon bons which tumbled out.

“Yeah, I thought as much,” Josuke said. “I’m just a victim of Shakedown Road, y’know. This isn’t my business, but if you’re trying to find evidence of an exchange of illegal goods, I recommend following that girl with that big chest.”

“And those three thugs, they went that way,” Joshu had appeared, pointing the cops in the direction he had just escaped them from. “I don’t like the cops, but those guys really pissed me off, so I’ll tell you the truth. They’re not in very good shape right now, so if you split up you can probably catch both parties.”

“Hold on there officers!” The pet store owner appeared to intervene too, hobbling up on his cane. “That man committed property damage against me! I was willing to let it go if he would pay me back for it, but he just tried to run away! He owes me 310,000 yen!”

Joshu pitied poor Josuke. Maybe he’d get off with a big fine or something for dad to pay off, he probably wouldn’t get to make it to the Hasekura School then. And now Joshu got to make off with a cool cool…

"Wait, where did the money go?"

“Actually old man,” Josuke laughed as a bubble popped and landed a fat stack of bills right in his hand. “I got your money right here.”

The pet store owner took it in surprise and counted it up, before picking out the most of it for his debt total. “Carry on then, my apologies young man.”

The cops uncuffed Josuke and he stood and laughed to himself. He struck his arms across his torso, his taut fingers pointed out in either direction. “When you visit this road, you get shaken down. That’s just how it goes, but in this instance… I’m the only winner!”

Chapter Text

It was the end of the day now, the bustling crowds of Shakedown Road had all but vanished, leaving only a maze of leaves which shone gold in the setting sunlight.

“Wow. I love getting to walk through here instead of being driven from school.” Daiya felt like she was floating through the streets as she encroached upon them, accompanied by Josuke and Kohaku. “I can’t really see the trees, but just from the smell and the sound of the leaves falling alone, I can tell it’s really beautiful!”

“Daiya! I told you to be careful where you step.” Josuke reeled in her by the arm, before shooting a bubble down the road she walked on, collecting all the leaves and spinning them into a pile on the other end of the street. “Going on those leaves could get you hurt or scammed.”

“Oh, right. Sorry JoJo, I just got caught up in the moment.”

“There’s an ice cream place here that gives student discounts, y’know. We should get something,” Daiya’s friend suggested as she fumbled in her bag and pulled out a student ID from Hasekura, signifying her as “MATSUSHIMA, KOHAKU”.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea! Come on JoJo, I’ll buy for you. You’re not a student yet, so just hide in the back and I’ll pretend I’m getting two.”

“Can you tell where I’m going, Daiya?” Daiya nodded as Kohaku waited for her to catch up before incrementally leading the way.

“This place, it’s inhabited by people with crooked hearts, but it really is breathtaking,” Josuke reflected.

“That’s what they all say.”

Josuke was startled by the voice of the old man pet shop owner he had been held up by earlier that day, briefly preparing to grab Daiya and make a run for it.

“Calm down sonny, I ain’t gonna try to extort you again. It’s off-hours for Shakedown Road. Now, it’s just the photogenic Mutsukabe Promenade,” the old man sighed. “People always say that the modern generation are a bunch of heartless thieves, but the truth is the world’s been like this since I was a boy, and probably for a long time before then.”

“When I was 11 years old, I was playing with my friends when suddenly I bumped into some man in a business suit. He had been holding a hot coffee and I made it spill all over his suit. He yelled at me with such ferocity I thought the Devil himself was gonna come up to punish me, but instead he made me give him a 100 yen bill I had. I was going to go try to buy a bucket of candy with it, that was more than 100 pieces of candy back then, but he said if I gave it to him then he wouldn’t tell my parents what I did to his expensive suit. That was the first time it happened to me. This place’s beauty came with a curse,” he looked glumly at the ground before smiling at Josuke. “You impressed me though, young man. You really managed to outsmart us all without falling in yourself. You took that money your friend stole from those thugs, I’m pretty sure, but that might as well make you a Saint compared to the rest of us.” He started hobbling away again. “Well thanks for entertaining the stories of an old man, I’m just off to visit the Joestar Jizo.”

Daiya’s friend suddenly stopped in her tracks and snapped her head back at the old man. “Oh! Oh! Joestar? That’s my favorite subject!”

“I wish he’d call me soon...” Yasuho thought out loud as she sat bored in a night class, making a water skipper out of a paperclip to pass the time. “I hope nothing happened to him,” she said as she again checked her phone for a text or call from 'Daiya'.

“Huh? Why is my GPS open?”

As Yasuho sat, energy pulsing from the hands clutching her phone down through her entire body. More inexplicable than her maps app being opened is what it was open to: A landmark on Mutsukabe Promenade, close to where Daiya went to school. The Joestar Jizo. The popup blurb on the GPS told her it was “A stone monument in Morioh dedicated to the repose of the soul of a famous horse jockey from America.”

Her phone screen flickered, this time booting her into her web browser and onto a publicly accessible archive of newspapers.

The article was from Yashiro News on 13 November, Meiji 34, which an addendum translated into 1901 for the convenience of the modern reader.

“AMERICAN HORSEMAN KILLED DURING STAY IN JAPAN”

Accompanying the headline was a blown up photo of a thin framed but well built man with shaggy neck length hair, wearing a beret kind of like JoJo’s, smiling gently at something off camera.

“The evening of the 11th, an American horse rider living in Japan, Johnny Joestar (29), was passing through the main road nearby Mutsukabe Shrine in Morioh, north of Sendai. He was confirmed dead in the early morning on the 12th. The authorities ruled it as a homicide, and questioned Joestar’s wife - Rina Higashikata (27) - as the prime suspect. ”

“Higashikata…? No way that’s like my Higashikatas, right?” She continued going down the article, an odd wave of sense clouding her brain and filtering out the questions of why she was looking at what she was.

“Joestar had come to Japan on request from the government to teach his horsemanship techniques to their cavalry. He was also involved in the importation of foreign fruits to Japan. A large boulder was found laying on the head of his corpse, but it is unclear if this was the cause of death or a staged scene to cover up another type of head injury. Authorities urge any witnesses or people with information to come forward.”

The site was willed to skip through more articles until it landed on the 17th. This one had a photo of several official looking men surrounding a profoundly saddened woman in a kimono.

“JOESTAR ‘MURDER’ DETERMINED ACCIDENTAL, POLICE SAY”

“ The authorities who ruled the death of Johnny Joestar (29) a homicide have rescinded their investigation and declared his death an accident. His wife Rina Higashikata (27) has been released from custody and a formal apology to her and her family has been issued. Police Chief Daiji Fungami has expressed his opinion that Joestar’s death was from his head being crushed under a boulder which naturally fell from Mutsukabe Hill, and declared his own force’s previous speculation that this scene was staged to cover up another injury as ‘utterly ludicrous, and an embarrassment to competent police work. ’”

The articles flipped across one more time, to the 23rd of March. Instead of a front page act, Yasuho was focused on only a small blurb article on the side of a middle page.

“A memorial has been erected at the Mutsukabe Promenade in honor of Johnny Joestar, the foriegn horse racer who died there half a year ago. The site for the man who died in a land foreign to him takes the form of a traditional Jizo statue, memorializing him as one who obtain enlightenment but forwent his accession in favor of helping others.”

“I capital L love the Legend of Johnny Joestar!” Kohaku fangirled over the old man’s statement, leaving Josuke perplexed as to what was going on.

“She’s super into talking about ghost stories and stuff,” Daiya whispered into his ear. “Although that one is more like a fairy tale; She told me all about it, supposedly his wife was my great great aunt or something.”

“Who’s wife?”

Daiya shrugged. “The guy in the story.”

“That would be right,” the old man chimed in. “A lot of people say he’s the reason this road is like it is. You know he was supposed to have worn a hat like you got, sonny.”

This exchange sparked the interest of Kohaku. “Oh right, you don’t have any memories, so you wouldn’t know the Legend.”

“And this legend, is?”

“The Legend of Johnny Joestar…” Kohaku dramatically began.

“Johnny Joestar was a horse racing prodigy from America. He became a recluce after he was shot in the back and became paralyzed from the waist down, and was ultimately disgraced after dropping out of a major racing competition in the final stage. He left the country after being invited to Japan to teach the cavalry his horse riding techniques.

That was only an excuse, however, the real reason Johnny left for Japan is because back in America he had fallen in love with a Japanese woman named Rina Higashikata, who was there with her father; He was one of the winners of the race Johnny couldn’t finish. They had gotten close after staying together on a boat ride to visit Europe.

They lived on a farm together for several years and were very happy, with two beautiful children and a marriage which was the envy of even the most happy couples.

Until one day, Rina fell ill. They sought advice from doctors the world over, but none could ever come up with a cause or cure.

First her memories would vanish, one by one, then randomly come back. Eventually it turned life threatening, and her skin folded up like origami and turned hard like stone. Thus they voyaged to Japan, for Rina to live out the rest of her days in her home.

But Johnny was not content to sit back and watch the light of his life dim away. He knew he could do something. Something the doctors couldn’t.

"Back before he lost the race, Johnny had believed in a certain 'source of power'. That sleeping far beneath a cathedral in the American city of New York, there was a treasure from ancient times. Something with a Holy, magical power imbued in it.

"Its existence was kept hidden from most of the world, and for most who did know about it, its location was secret instead. Johnny, however, he knew.

"He cried and agonized, and knew he would surely rot in Hell if he went through with it.

"‘Please, just once,’ he would pray while he sailed back to America in secret. ‘For my wife’s sake, not mine, just once I need that power.’

"He had unearthed the treasure from deep underground, and fled back to Japan by ship. However the spot where the treasure was held was watched closely, and he was soon followed by pursuers from the American government. They followed him all the way home, "but he was faster than them.

"He had brought his family to the Twin Meditation Pines in Morioh, and buried the treasure underneath it instead. He took his wife to that spot.

"‘Forgive me God, but this is for the person I love. Just this once, I need a miracle. Cure her, I beg of you!’ he sobbed.

"And it worked. His wife was no longer ill, but she was not cured.

"Even the infinite power of the treasure worked on a baseline logic, and that logic was that the world needed to remain equivalent. It could not remove, only transfer.

"As Johnny and his wife embraced together, she asked him where their darling children had gone, their daughter and son.

"‘They’re just in the carriage over there!’ he pointed with glee.

"Johnny ran over to his daughter and lifted her up with a twirl. She set her back down, then went to get his beloved son.

"He was ill. His skin had folded like origami and become hard like stone.

"Johnny utterly broke down, witnessing what his actions had caused.

"He asked for just one time though, and he wouldn’t ask for another.

"He took the treasure back from under the tree and hugged and kissed his wife one last time, said a mournful goodbye to his daughter, and he took off on his horse with his son and the treasure. He rode faster and faster, all the way to Mutsukabe Hill.

"‘From the beginning, before I even took that treasure or before I met Rina, I’ve always been prepared for the end. My dear son, I’m so glad I got to meet you. My love for you, that’s a happiness that could never be exchanged for anything.’

"He placed his son on the briefcase which had hid the Holy Treasure, and took the disease from him with his own hands. He placed the disease on himself, and laid dead on the ground. From his last will, the leaves on the ground moved a rock onto his head, so his family could never know what he did.

"The treasure was taken back by America, and today, in the shadow of our ginkgo tree leaves, his last wish remains alive today, shifting the leaves under the feet of people who pass the spot where Johnny Joestar died.”

In the time Kohaku had spent recounting the tale with all her might, the four had arrived at the eponymous memorial site.

“Calm down there, buster,” the old man advised. “There’s 1,000 versions of that story.”

“And mine is the best one,” Kohaku established. “I’ve spent a lot of time researching this! Johnny Joestar was super a real person, Daiya’s family are distantly related to his wife! Look,” she pulled out her phone, “here’s a real photo of him!”

True to the earlier claim, the man she had pulled up really was wearing a beret not unlike Josuke’s, the latter himself noted a more striking similarity, eyes focusing over his exposed shoulder.

“Hey wait a minute… What’s that on his shoulder?”

“You mean that star?” Kohaku shrugged. “I think it’s just a birthmark. A genetic one, even, Joestar and all.”

"It… looks just like the one I have!”

“Hey, girl!” Josuke shouted at her, both excited and unnerved. “What else do you know about Johnny Joestar?”

Unfettered by his loudness or lack of remembering her name, Kohaku lit up at the chance to talk about her favorite interest. “Well, he still has living descendants in this city. I mapped out his genealogy, let me find the tree I made…”

In a few moments Josuke was scrolling through a map of Johnny Joestar’s family. True to Kohaku’s words, Rina Higashikata was the daughter of the same Higashikata ancestor who started their family business, and much like in her version of the story he had two children: daughter Shizuka and son George. George married Elizabeth and had four children: Emmanuel, Sonia, Donnatella, and Joseph. Joseph married Suzi Quatro and they had two daughters: Barbara Ann, and Holy.

“ No… There’s no way…” Josuke’s eyes widened looking at the bottom of the tree, Joestar’s living descendants.

Yasuho walked home from school, bored. She wasn’t normally this disconnected from lectures, and was worrying whether she had gained a blood lust for adventure after her experiences with JoJo.

She strained her arm in the air at an odd angle, wagging her tongue out at it until they touched.

“Ya hoo! I did it! I can lick my own elbow! I’m a champion!” she was happy for a second. “Now I’m bored again,” she sighed, and decided to look some more at the newspaper archive that seemed to have been summoned for her, reading through the papers around Johnny Joestar’s death.

On the same day as his death report, she found an article about a toddler who had fallen overboard off a ship, but miraculously turned up unharmed on the beach.

Then she went to a few days before Johnny’s death.

“LOCAL HORSE RACE CHAMPION SHOT DEAD”

Another horse racer? She investigated further.

“Famed Steel Ball Run Race winner and Higashikata Fruits Company owner Norisuke Higashikata has been found dead on the streets, murdered with a firearm. Witnesses reported seeing Higashikata get into a confrontation with a so-called ‘Dark Marauder’, an unknown individual disguised in pitch black clothing. Police urge anybody with information about the identity of the gunman, believed to be the ‘Dark Marauder’, to immediately come forward. ”

“Oh my gosh!” Yasuho couldn’t believe what she was reading. “Right before all that, the Higashikatas’ ancestor, he was murdered?”

She was in a frenzy, Googling all sorts of stuff about Johnny Joestar, until she seemed to be guided into an article about him, which happened to mention his living descendants…

Holy married a Japanese man who was now deceased, Yoshiteru Kira.

And together they had a daughter: Kei, and a son: Yoshikage.

“Yoshikage Kira! He’s a blood relative of this family? And he has relatives after all!”

All three in his company looked at him strangely, and he coughed to regain his composure.

“Yoshikage Kira’s mother, Holy Joestar, do you happen to have a scoop on her?”

“Riiiiight, she had studied optometry, then general medicine. After her husband died of cancer, hm…” Kohaku nibbled on her thumb nail searching for the details, “she became an emergency physician at the Tohoku Gakuin University Hospital.”

Kohaku’s phone was abruptly replaced in Josuke’s view by Daiya’s. She was showing him that a text from Yasuho was on it, talking about a crazy thing she stumbled across on her phone, relating to Yoshikage Kira’s family.

And now, Josuke had a new lead.

Chapter Text

“Laundry for you, sir.”

Josuke had walked straight into Nijimura the maid, who shoved a green shirt into his arms, her cold fingers grazing against his wrists.

“I don’t think this is mine.” Josuke futilely cried out after her as she walked away without any obstacle. He sighed, having bigger fish to fry that day than dealing with mixed up laundry. Josuke fumbled the shirt around in his hands, it was definitely Joshu’s; It was identical to the one he had on, barring the color. Examination of a chest pocket caused a wrinkled cash bill to fall out into Josuke’s hands.

“Hey asshole! Get your mitts off my shirt!” Joshu rushed to Josuke and slapped him across the face.

“Hey you got this all wrong. I don’t care about your dirty money.”

Joshu slapped him again, and jerked the dried up bill out of his hands.

“I knew you were a thieving bastard!” Joshu, feeling a sense of honor that it was his duty to uphold, slinked his hand into his back pocket and ever so slightly pulled out his shiny pocket knife. “Come on, you wanna go?”

“What are you two doing?”

The scene was cut short by the intervention of Norisuke. Joshu put on his best pure child facade and snuck his knife back into his pocket.

“Josuke was trying to swipe money from my shirt! I caught him red-handed!”

Norisuke and Josuke met eyes.

“Joshu…” he sounded let down. “Are you sure you're not mistaken? You know the laundry gets mixed up all the time.”

“Dad! I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Come here for a minute Joshu.” Norisuke dragged him by the ear to a corner.

“This is what, 1000 yen? And look, it’s all wrinkled like it just came out of the wash. Now stop being an embarrassment.”

Norisuke discarded Joshu and began walking in stride with Josuke. “Apologies, JoJo, it was just a misunderstanding.” Joshu sulked besides them until his older sister appeared to spirit him away.

“We’re leaving,” Hato announced of her and Joshu as she threw on a long coat. “Mitsuba already went out with Tsurugi to a Scouts meeting.”

“You wanna go to the Parlor with me today, Daiya? Give Josuke some breathing room.” Daiya agreed and the father-daughter duo too left the home.

Josuke was alone, except for that maid, just as he needed.

He grabbed Daiya’s phone, which she left lying flipped open, as well as a pen and paper he felt more comfortable with for notes than digital typing. He stepped outside and rang up Yasuho, who had last spoken to the night before, hearing about her phone’s odd behavior and the way it showed her news about the Joestar Family at the same time Josuke had learned about them in person. Together they planned to find Yoshikage Kira’s mother and try to get answers out of her.

“It’s me, you feeling ready?”

Yasuho gave him a cute little “mhm” from the other end. “That woman, Holy Joestar-Kira, she’s a doctor at the Tohoku Gakuin University Hospital, but I can’t seem to get in touch with her. Our only option is probably to go meet her in person; Come to the Honey Sesame Cafe, it’s nearby.”

“Yassy, I don’t have any memories of Morioh’s geography. I don’t know where any place you’re talking about is.”

“Just use your GPS dummy. It’s only about a 30 minute walk on foot. See you there!”

Yasuho was more enthralled just to get a chance to meet JoJo again - after the last time she was at the house left her so shaken with that weird maid - than the investigation into Holy Joestar-Kira. She nonetheless decided to put in the effort of a phone call to her before they made it to the hospital. Yoshikage Kira was a naval doctor, so she supposed that medicine must've run in the family.

“Hello? I’m trying to reach Ms.Holy Joestar-Kira.”

“One second please,” a receptionist answered. “Are you a relative of hers?”

“Uh, no? Please, I’d just like to speak with Dr.Kira for a second.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but we can’t allow free communication with a patient unless you’re family.”

…Patient?

“Your voice guidance system is starting.”

Josuke stared intently at the map on Daiya’s phone. “Please turn right and go forward for 100 meters,” the voice of an electronic woman instructed him.

“Turn right.”

“Continue straight for 100 meters.”

“You have gone too far,” it suddenly objected when he complied. “Please make a u-turn.”

Josuke squinted in confusion. “Please make a u-turn.” He did a spin around as he tried to figure out what it was going on about.

“Please take the next right.”

It was an alley, hidden in the rows of houses along the streets. Josuke cautiously walked down it, discovering an entire walkway walled in by backyard fences and stone stairwells.

“Nice, a shortcut.” he thought .

“Please make a right.”

“The Hell is wrong with this thing? That's four rights in a row, that’s just me going back the way I came!”

Josuke followed common logic and went to go left, only to find the path torn up and crossed out with tape.

“Damn it, this entire alley was a waste of time? Screw this, I’m making my own path.” Josuke studied the map the phone displayed and then shuffled around for the pencil and notebook he took from the house.

Then came a rumbling from behind him.

It was a white motorcycle, one that was built like a tank, with huge wheels someone could sit inside which were nearly too wide to fit in the alley, a strange red smiley face printed on its robust tire, and "B.T.W" branded across its hood. A rider in a contrastingly pitch black set of heavy armor sat on it, guarded by the giant arched windshield, covered so heavily that any physical features were impossible to make out.

Josuke turned to confront the rider, but before he had a chance to act they zoomed right past him, the body of the gargantuan bike bouncing on its suspension strings while streams of air blew from the exhaust.

“You have gone too far; Please make a u-turn.”

Leaves were the first thing to come at Josuke, followed by some dirt and other street debris, a forgotten lollipop wrapper and juice bottle lid.

Then it was a metal sign, with a perfectly sharp corner.

Josuke barely ducked out of the way in time to avoid getting a concussion as it fell to the ground. He realized something very weird was going on, again. He scrambled for his notepad, flipping it again to what he managed to make of the map.

The rider paradoxically appeared again from around a corner, revving at Josuke. “Can I help you?” Josuke asked. There was no reply. Instead, they just drove away again.

“They’re following me, but just driving away.”

He was blown down, pushed through the tight alleyway by freezing cold winds until he landed on a set of stairs.

One piece of the stair rail had been damaged by some forgotten incident, perhaps an ill-fated skateboard trick. Regardless, it now had a sharp piece of half-rusted metal sticking out. A piece of metal Josuke was blown right onto, inserting itself straight into his neck, blood trickling out as he gurgled in pain and shock. He flailed his arms around for the phone, frantically opening the phone app to try and call Yasuho.

The bike rider appeared at the bottom of the stairs, awaiting Josuke’s next move. Even though he had closed the app, the GPS’ voice still rang out urgently.

“Please make a u-turn.”

“Please make a u-turn.”

“Please make a u-turn.”

Josuke’s first experience in a Stand battle was a room trapped with ordinary objects hiding weapons. This did not set a strong precedent, as he soon became much more accustomed to ordinary objects being used as weapons.

In this example, it was sticks. Soft, crunchy sticks blown onto his skin with such force that they left an imprint, before freezing over with sharp spikes of ice which dug straight into his bloodstream.

However he barely registered them as more than a slight annoyance in light of the gushing wound on the back of his neck.

Cursing, Soft & Wet appeared behind him and shoved its sleek pointer finger into the wound, Spinning a bubble on its tip which quickly turned red with his blood. Josuke’s own finger felt searingly cold as the soft, rotating bubble froze over, trapping the blood he was losing inside of him like a dam.

By the time he regained his composure, the pitch black armored rider had driven out of sight again.

“This ability is powerful enough to affect even my bubbles,” he summarized, “but I was able to use that to my advantage.”

His chaser out of sight, he sent out the call to Yasuho, his breathing rugged as she answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Change of plans. I’m still 378 metres away from the cafe, but I need you to go on without me.”

“JoJo? How come?” she moaned.

“I’m under attack right now! If I come to you, you’ll probably be attacked too!”

“Attacked how? By who?” About two weeks ago Yasuho would’ve thought this a tall tale, but she had seen him being held hostage in an actual real life murder dungeon.

“It’s another ‘Stand ability’, it’s making freezing cold winds which blow everything towards me and attack me with ice. The user is somebody on a motorcycle, and they’re in such heavy gear that I can’t see their face.”

“What sort of a motorcycle?”

“It’s almost like a tank, giant armor plates and a huge windshield. I don’t even think it's something that would be street legal, but it’s definitely not a sports bike or a Harley-Davidson or something like that.”

“Do you think it’s somebody who knows your past identity?”

“No, that’s the thing. I said I’m being ‘attacked’, and I am, but every time they attack me they drive away instead of fighting. I don’t think they care about me, or at least they don’t want me dead, they’re trying to stop me from getting to Holy Joestar! That’s why I need you to go on without me! I can keep that masked bike rider distracted, so you can meet Holy before they come after you! I’m counting on you Yasuho, worry about me later, for now you have to make it to Holy Joestar!”

Josuke hung up without a goodbye. He couldn’t bring himself to end the call how he wanted to.

“Please make a right turn.”

Of course, how could he forget the evil GPS.

“This GPS is probably part of the attack. Whether it’s a sub-ability or there’s two enemies, this has to be what’s leading the biker to me.” Josuke angrily ignored the GPS and tried to gauge where in the alley he had ended up, taking back out his notepad to reference his previous map.

He was stopped by the sounds of revving.

The biker had appeared before him once again, revving the tank-bike’s engine before zooming at him full force.

Acting on instinct, Soft & Wet lunged out and tried to stop the bike, but making contact with its thick rapidly rotating tire was enough to send it and by extension Josuke flying backwards, burning open his arm in the process. Blood squirted out of his cut up vein and over his face, soaking his eyes before the ice ability froze it solid, gluing his eyelids shut as his face scrunched up from the pain.

He tried in vain to stumble his way around the hard asphalt ground as he could hear the bike still approaching him at blinding speed.

“Who are you? Come at me again and I’m attacking with the intent to kill!” he tried screaming in fury, but the warning ended up a pained choking as the slashing winds formed frost out of the breath in his throat. He had no way out.

“Please go upwards.”

Upwards?

It was that GPS again. He was already knocked down, why was it telling him to move again?

Having about 5.35 seconds left before he would be ground into a fine red mist, Josuke took his chances and reached for the heavens. He made contact with a small but sturdy knob extending off of a street pole. He pulled up with all his might and managed to lift his body off the ground and just barely above the circumference of the Spinning tire as it zoomed up to him.

Josuke’s next movements were quick as he reared his legs back and jutted them back towards the bike. At the same time a bubble burst out of his birthmark and flew alongside his foot, overtaking it and popping against the bike’s windshield, blowing it out into dozens of glass shards.

“Soft & Wet!”

Josuke’s Stand appeared outlined alongside his body as foot made contact with the bike’s rider, Soft & Wet’s strength giving it the energy to throw the rider off their vehicle with a mighty “ORA!”

After he heard the rider crash to the ground and their bike tilt over, Josuke rubbed his eyes as the frozen blood thawed out, the same effect freeing his body of the sticks and debris stuck to it. This meant his improvised blood clot bubble also came undone, but the bleeding had slowed enough that the soapy surface of the unfrozen bubble was enough to keep him from bleeding out.

Josuke stared at the phone in his hands. “You told me to go upwards,” he said to it, feeling it could hear him somehow. “You saved me from that biker. You weren’t helping them, this whole time you were trying to lead me to safety, right?” the realization dawned on him.

He had an ally.

The phone screen flickered before it switched to an odd jumbled map which flowed around the screen like a lava lamp. Superimposed over it was text.

“YES”

“Alright, I suppose your power isn’t suited for combat then, right? You can only guide me, I have to fight?”

“YES”

“Alright then, let’s work together, and we can defeat the enemy.” Josuke turned on his heel to the bike rider, who had their helmet smashed open. He was ready to discover the identity of his adversary.

…Only to be met with an inhuman, goblin-like face embedded directly in its neck, its skin muted purple and bugged eyes piercing orange. The rider huffed and puffed various gibberish noises, before reuniting with their bike and driving off.

“Son of a bitch!” Josuke shouted to the sky. “That guy, this whole time… The ‘wind attack’ isn’t the Stand, it’s the entire rider and bike! The real user is hiding somewhere!” Josuke looked and listened around the alley, but found no evidence of anybody else in the vicinity. “It must be a long ranged power, not like Fun Fun Fun and California King Bed.” he looked down to the phone again. “Are you like that too? Not the main body, but a long ranged ability.”

“YES”

That text faded and new lines appeared.

“I AM PAISLEY PARK”

“MY USER KNOWS NOT OF ME AT THIS TIME”

“GO 15 METRES STRAIGHT AHEAD”

Toru Yamagishi was definitely an improvement in most areas over Joshu, from an objective standpoint, but Yasuho still winced at having to interact with him twice in the same month.

They had met his first day of high school, and she was instantly enamored. They dated for the next two years - sending Joshu in more conniption fits per week than there are letters in the words “weekly conniption fits” - and even slept together more than once. Then on the cusp of graduation, he dumped her out of nowhere and left to be a big shot medical student.

And yet he had the gull to try to rope her back in every time they saw each other.

“Ya-su-ho!” that asshole with an anatole cheekily slid up to her.

Toru’s hair got slightly rounder every time he appeared. His faux-afro had swirly streaks of cream color mixed into burnt ash color peered by his branch patterned pants. He proudly wore his intern’s lab coat as his fourth layer, accompanied by his pumpkin patch orange vest decorated by a winding yellow S-like patch which merged into a sun. That vest was concealing the torso of his hoodie which had sleeves which clad the palette into tartan, and itself covered an unseen t-shirt.

Dressing heavy was nothing new for Toru, who had a self-reported extreme sensitivity to the colds of coastal Japan, a quirk which he attributed to some years his family had spent living in Papua New Guinea. The teddy bears knit from off-yellow wool pinned to his shoulders were something Yasuho was certain was a new addition, on the other hand.

“Word the street is you’re hanging with that John Doe amnesiac who got bailed out by the Higashikatas. He caused quite a stir around here you know. You should bring him around some time, Doctor Akefu still never got to speak with him.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of your business to me; I need your help with something else.”

“Oh, so you’ve come back, seeking my scholarly aptitude? I’m on my way to becoming a doctor now, any-who.”

Yasuho wanted to shout “Like hell, jerk!” but that’d have been counterproductive to getting to Holy Joestar.

“No, I wanna meet a patient, actually. Do you know where Holy Joestar-Kira is staying?”

“Holy Joestar?” Toru gleaned back with intrigue, breaking his normal holier-than-thou attitude for a second.

“Yeah, she’s supposed to be a doctor at this hospital, but when I tried calling to speak to her, I got told she’s actually being treated as a patient,” Yasuho explained.

“Oh no, I’m well aware of Doctor Joestar-Kira,” Toru condescendingly countered. “Tragic story, really. She was Doctor Akefu’s right hand man, a real mama bird to all the staff, but a year or two ago she suddenly came down with horrible symptoms.”

“Symptoms like what?” Yasuho tried to question.

“Sorry my periwinkle haired darling, but telling you that would be a big heaping pile of patient confidentiality violations. Can’t tell you where she’s staying either, hospital policy.”

Yasuho’s face was red she was so flustered by that snide vested jerkass. “Come on man, this is important!”

“And ‘this’ is what, exactly?”

Yasuho paused, the cops were probably still swarming around Yoshikage Kira’s corpse, and if she let loose the maternal connection Holy had to him, their whole investigation would be compromised. “None of your darn business,” was the explanation she settled on

“Well, who knows, maybe later you’ll see a helpful message from a fallen lover boy in your inbox, inviting you to come over yonder and meet her.” Toru winked, and Yasuho puked in her mouth a little.

“Flip off,” Yasuho turned on her heel away from him. “Talking like Sao isn’t gonna do you any favors.”

“Come on honey, you can talk with Doc Akefu and then it can be just the two of us! I’ll bring you to your favorite restaurant, is it still Umami Tasuke? What about Honoka Coffee? It’ll be just like it was before,” Toru dreamily pitched.

“Beat it jerk, you seem to always conveniently forget that you dumped me - for no reason might I add. You barely even gave me reassurance that you weren’t being sent to a death camp or something!” Yasuho snapped back at him like a mad boar. “I’ll go find Holy Joestar myself. I’d appreciate the help if it wasn’t also helping you get in my pants.” Yasuho stormed away from him, ducking down the first open door she saw into a flight of descending stairs.

Without warning, Yasuho felt her feet slip and twist over each other, sending her tumbling down the stairs to the next floor below.

Yasuho groaned in pain as she sat up, looking down in shock to find her hand covered in blood. The source was a set of oozing cuts around her leg. They were arranged circularly, they almost looked like they were a -

“Bite mark?” Yasuho was so taken about that she spoke out loud to the empty corridor.

As blood dripped down her leg, something lurked behind her, in her own shadow. It was akin to a map, a flat form covered in routes and road signs crawling out of the floor. It popped out like a cardboard princess in a children’s book, its head still consumed by the map of nowhere save for a single yellow bead serving as an eye, all crowned by an identical copy of Yasuho’s own hair.

It had awoken.

“Are you alright there, miss?” Yasuho looked up to find a nurse had rushed to her aid, attracting her attention away from a chance at noticing the Stand behind her. “I brought you a wheelchair! Here, get on, I’ll bring you to an attending physician right away!”

“But I-” Yasuho's protests were ignored as she was dragged into the chair and hurried her into an elevator.

The lift hummed as the nurse jammed the button to one of Tohoku Gakuin University Hospital’s upper floors, seemingly unyielding compelled to get her there.

“Just a minute sweety, we’ll get that all taken care of for you.”

The elevator emerged onto a hallway of patient rooms, what appeared to be a general area for long term care. “Stay here, I’ll be right back with some medical aid,” she instructed as she left Yasuho next to a residential treatment room.

Yasuho peeked inside the room out of instinct. There was a woman sitting inside, draped in a giant hood, staring wistfully out her window. “They’re about four and a half metres,” she said regarding a duo of birds.

Yasuho examined the name board printed next to the door, gasping a bit as she read the woman’s name.

“Joestar-Kira, Holy”

Chapter Text

The GPS Entity, now known to Josuke as Paisley Park, led him out the other side of the alleyways which the motorcycle Stand had turned into a gladiatorial arena.

“PROGRESS DOWNWARDS.” The GPS guidance voice had been altered slightly now that Paisley Park had revealed its presence to Josuke, losing the normal bland inflection for a motherly sounding guide.

“You sure?” Josuke didn’t think it was a good use of time to question his new ally, but looking downwards from his current location presented him with a small slope leading into somebody’s backyard.

“PROGRESS DOWNWARDS.”

Josuke shrugged and leaped down the hill, his momentum letting him leap clearly over the wooden fence isolating it from the other surrounding homes.

Sensing Josuke’s previous apprehension, Paisley Park had decided to become more specific in its directions. “GO 3 METERS, THEN TURN RIGHT AND GO THROUGH THE FENCE”

Josuke trudged ahead, walking right up to a residential home's beautifully decorated garden, which was complete with a koi pond installation. While not as fanciful as the Higashikata's manor, it was clearly the type of place that old money lived.

He made it to the fence Paisley Park had referred to, leading out of the collection of flowerbeds. Josuke tripped over himself as he went to reach for it, realizing he was standing next to an open sliding door patio, putting him in clear view of the homeowner: A stout looking elderly woman who was eating a hot pot of noodles.

“Excuse me,” Josuke awkwardly fumbled as he stood back, unsure of what if anything he should say. “You have a beautiful home.” The old lady glanced at him with only passing interest over her lunch, letting Josuke proceed outside the fence.

He stopped in his tracks again, this time in a frightful defense against the sound of something emerging from the koi pond. He flipped himself around and was shocked to see the biker Stand rolling out of the pond, surrounded by its flurry of ice.

“IMMEDIATELY TURN RIGHT,” Paisley Park commanded as Josuke was blown against the fence. To his right was the inside of the house. Josuke looked outside of the fence to see car upon car rushing down the busy residential street. Going to the road with the bike following him would be suicide, thus he dashed passed the old woman to the inside of her house with no regrets.

The biker followed after, tearing up the rim of the ancestral styled home and blanketing the old lady in frost, which she took hardly any notice of given that her noodles were spared.

“GO UPWARDS,”

Josuke froze, and not just because of the snow piling up around the house. The bike had disappeared again, but it was clearly locking on to him from somewhere. He realized that it could be following him just by listening to the GPS voice.

He noticed a door with a circular window cut out of it, leading to some kind of utility room or perhaps even a sauna. He peered through the window and looked around every corner of the same room. It was empty, and there was no way the biker could be hiding anywhere in its rich wooden walls.

Josuke opened the door and was instantly blasted backwards, his back cracking with agony as it took his impact against the stairs. The Stand was back and driving straight for him.

“No way, it’s locking on to me automatically somehow,” Josuke concluded. “No matter what I do, something is letting this thing keep coming after me!” Josuke got himself standing back up.

“Soft & Wet!” He brought out his own Stand with its fists raised, ready to live up to its boxer chested appearance and throw hands. “Who the hell are you!” Soft & Wet lunged for the bike, which jumped up and out of its reach by bouncing its tires on their huge suspension strings, revving its engine as it flew clear over Soft & Wet and landed straight in front of Josuke.

“Shit! I can’t remember any specific examples, but I know instinctively that people in horror movies always die if they go to the second floor, which means that if this thing pushes me upstairs I’m screwed.”

“Born This Way,” a grim feminine voice said out of nowhere, while the biker’s eyes glowed bright red through the helmet.

“C-come again?” Josuke asked as he confusedly looked around.

“You asked who I was. The name of this Stand, it is ‘Born This Way,’” the rider clarified, "and this bike it uses to follow you is named "Road to Love."

“You? I know that voice!” Josuke recalled how Ojiro spoke to him through Fun Fun Fun, and understood that he was speaking not to a sentient Stand like Paisley, but to the user herself. “You’re somebody I’ve spoken to, perhaps at the Higashikata House? For a while I thought you were that paranoiac Joshu, but I get it now. You attached the attack to me when you shoved that shirt in my hands, didn’t you? Nijimura!”

“Sorry, you only got one question, now hurry up and die.” Road to Love revved its bike again, blasting sharp sharp ice crystals into Josuke’s skin.

Josuke was distracted from the stinging pain by a childish sobbing. He was about to consider if there was now a third long range Stand involved in the fight but he looked to his side to see an actual human child. A bob haired boy wearing a ladybug t-shirt.

“Grandmaaaa,” he whined. “It’s so cold, there’s snow in your house! And there’s a stranger too!”

“Get out of here kid!” Josuke shouted at him. “Don’t come any closer!” Josuke was about to have his skull caved in by the giant tank-bike, but at least he seems to have done something to deserve it. He’d rather not an innocent kid get involved. “Go hide behind a door or something!”

And at that moment time seemed to slow down, as Josuke felt like he reached Nirvana with his revelation, thinking it out as he could smell the heavy duty rubber coming straight for his spinal cord.

Behind a door.

Door in front of you. Because you opened it, then closed it. Open the door. Close the door. Open the door. Open the gate. Open the notepad.

“That’s it!” Josuke shouted. “I changed my mind kid! Come over here, shut this door!” Josuke dove past the kid to lure Road to Love away from him. “Shut it right now!”

The boy did as told and as Josuke suspected, Born This Way disappeared in a rush of cold air, the snow and ice it generated seeming to instantly melt away and dry up.

“Every time I open something - a tangible object, not like ‘opening’ my eyes or my mouth to talk - the Stand appears.” Josuke smirked to himself, he had figured it out!

“Hey kid, sorry about the ruckus, but can you do me one more favor?” Josuke gestured downstairs. “Just open the nearest door to the outside for me and I’ll get out of you and your grandma’s hair. I’ll even give you a fruit gummy.”

The boy sheepishly went back downstairs and did as told, Josuke tailing him while being careful to not open anything else.

Along the way, he saw several photos of the boy and the old lady, along with a multitude of other family members. The boy's parents, siblings, perhaps aunts and uncles and cousins.

Josuke wondered if he was in a photo like that anywhere. If somebody in the world had those kinds of nice family memories with him, and if he’d ever get to have them with anybody.

“Thanks a million champ. Sorry to have lied, but I don’t really have a fruit gummy.” With those closing remarks Josuke walked out of the house into the outside world.

“As, what a nice, wide, outside space,” he cheekily said as he observed the outline of Tohoku Gakuin University Hospital only a short walk away. “Not too much to open around here! Thanks for the help, Paisley.”

Josuke didn’t have any family right now, but he had a magic talking GPS, and sometimes that’s the next best thing.

Yasuho took a quick look around before tip-toeing her way into Holy Joestar-Kira’s room. No way she could be this lucky.

Holy was a visibly older woman but was surrounded still by an aura of youth. Her clothes were all obscured by a lavish hood complete with a cape, leaving only wispy bangs of her long, pale violet hair peeking out from her forehead.

“Uh, Dr.Joestar?” Yasuho realized she never actually thought about what to do when she got this far.

“Oh hi!” Holy excitedly cheered as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so nice of you to come visit me! Hey, I’ve always wondered, do you parents know you do that stuff? What do they think about it?”

This was not a response Yasuho could’ve planned for anyways.

“Huh?”

“I have it around here somewhere, I was just looking at it because I was bored though.” Holy patted around her bed until she produced a small magazine, which she flipped open to about ⅔ in and shoved in Yasuho’s face. To her shock, it was a full page spread of a topless woman clutching a teddy bear with one hand and sliding her panties down with the other. Said topless woman, it should be recorded, bore absolutely no resemblance to Yasuho.

“What!?” Yasuho tried to quietly yell. “What are you talking about? That’s some dirty porn mag!”

“I mean you know like, I don’t really think there’s anything wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your body. Do you lie to your folks about what you do for work?”

“That’s not me! What the fudge are you talking about!? I look nothing like her!”

“You don’t gotta lie to me sweetheart. I wouldn’t even be upset if Kei did that type of thing.”

“I’m not lying! I am not a porn model!” Yasuho tried in vain to convince her. “and I- wait, Kei?”

“Mhm! My darling daughter, you know?”

“Your daughter?” This surprise flicked the switch in Yasuho’s head that reminded her what she was supposed to be doing. “And your son, he’s Yoshikage, right? He’s a naval doctor?”

Holy appeared to be counting to herself for a second before she spoke up again. “83C-80-90. Knew it!”

“Huh?” Yasuho asked. Did she recite her -

“See! It says your measurements right here, that’s totally you!”

“Uh, alright!” Yasuho was blushing now. “Anyways uh,” while Yasuho was trying to find her words, she got startled by the sound of other people approaching the room, and dove underneath Holy’s hospital bed to hide.

“Careful down there hun, don’t get yourself stuck!” Yasuho rapidly shushed her as three sets of footsteps entered the room. Peaking up, Yasuho saw two balding doctors holding clipboards, supervised by a third, younger looking man with hair that could only be described with the words “spiny” and “corn-like.”

“How are you doing today, Holy?” One of the bald ones asked.

“Ah, it's been so wonderful today! Except for my boots.” Holy lifted her bare foot up and slammed it against the other bald doctor, tugging on his lab coat as if trying to put him on. “It doesn’t seem to fit right today, which is a shame because the leather is such a nice material. But in my opinion boots are something that’s gotta fit exactly, 25 centimeters or bust!”

“Erm, right,” the first bald doctor grumbled out at the scene. “Next time we come we’ll bring a more fitting pair for you.”

“Oh how nice! Thank you Dr.Yano!”

“Dr.Joestar,” the third, younger doctor spoke up. “I’ve gone over this with you before, but you’ve never had any major surgery, right? Particularly anything on your head, like your ears or mouth.” He spoke in a patronizing tone.

“Well no dum-dum, if that was the case I’d have some kind of scars, wouldn’t I?”

“Well that’s true,” he conceded. “Even a surgeon as good as me couldn’t perform such a delicate operation and leave no trace of it.”

“I don’t understand then,” the doctor she was trying to put on said. “The scans show-”

“We’re quite aware of what the scans show, Dr.Takigawa.” The corn haired one brought up a laptop opened to MRI scans of a brain, presumably Holy’s. There were several dark spots over the images, blank voids where brain matter should be.

“It’s quite inexplicable, she’s simply ‘lost’ them. If this was some sort of genetic disease or perhaps a fungal infection, then what we would see is dead brain tissue, but that’s not the case here. They’re simply missing, cleanly blown off. It’d require the world’s greatest surgeon to pull something off like that, and I’ve definitely never operated on her.”

Yasuho covered her mouth as she gasped from under the bed. Pieces of Holy’s brain were… missing?

“Is it time we go to the police about this?” Doctor Ran asked.

The young doctor shut him down. “Nonsense, we have no evidence that any crime was committed.” The three continued chatting as they dispersed out of the room, allowing Yasuho to crawl out of her hiding spot.

“Holy has parts of her brain… stolen?” Yasuho had instantly decided to jump up to first-name basis with her. “Hang on, Holy, I need to call somebody.” She stayed crouched out of sight of someone in the hallway as she dialed Josuke on her phone, her heart suddenly trembling as she preyed that he’d pick up.

“Yasuho? Good timing, I made it in front of the hospital.”

“JoJo! I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried about you this whole time, but because of that I knew I couldn’t let you down. I made it to Holy Joestar!”

Josuke was pleased to hear that his faith in Yasuho was well placed. “Well? What’d she say?”

“Well that’s the thing. Turns out she’s being treated here not for a normal injury, but for mental symptoms. She seems perfectly fine, but doesn’t recognize people or things for what they are and doesn’t seem aware of her situation.” Yasuho decided to exclude the part about the porn mag. “But it’s not a normal mental illness; Doctors came in and said she has parts of her brain missing.”

“Missing? Missing how?”

“Just missing, not a trace of them left, but she’s never had any surgery either. All we’ve done is discovered another huge mystery!”

Josuke scowled. “Alright Yasuho, listen, because on the brighter side we haven’t reached a dead end. Remember the biker who was attacking me? Well it turns out that wasn’t a real person, but the Stand ability itself, and its user is the Higashikata housekeeper!”

“The maid? The one who told me to stay away from the house?”

“One in the same. I think that Norisuke Higashikata is behind things, and he’s using her as an attack dog against us. This power is dangerous, it appears in front of you every time you open something, principally doors. So just wait for me, I have to time myself so I walk in with somebody.”

Josuke paced around as he waited for somebody to enter the hospital. “Ouch!” he stumbled in his path as he realized he had accidentally bumped into another man walking across the parking lot.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?” the man belittled Josuke.

“Forgive me, I have a lot on my mind right now.” Josuke tried to quickly brush off this encounter.

“At least pick up my book, jackass!”

Josuke looked on the ground and did indeed find a paperback sitting at the man’s feet. With agitation, he picked it up by the back cover, preparing to shove it back in the guy’s hands before he realized what he had just done.

The book-owning man yelled as he was knocked down by the vortex that formed his book’s pages, Road to Love appearing from it and sending the book flying 7 metres in the opposite direction.

Josuke yelled for Yasuho as he was forced to take up defending himself from the bike.

“JUMP ONTO THE FRONT FAIRING.”

“The what!?” Josuke screamed at his phone.

“(ˈfɛərɪŋ) noun. a structure, as a rigid, transparent, plastic sheet, at the front of a motorcycle, bicycle, etc., for deflecting wind and rain."

Josuke got the idea. If he could ride on the front of the bike, he’d be safe from the wheels trying to grind him into paste. With nothing to lose he hopped onto the front of the bike and gripped on dear life. Born This Way responded by rapidly breaking and moving forward, trying to shake him off. Soft & Wet came to Josuke’s aid and shoved bubbles around both his hands, the chilling attack freezing them to the bike. It stung like a thousand angry hornets, but it was better than being a crimson stain on the pavement.

With its master safe, Soft & Wet planted its feet on the ground and its fists on the side of the bike, using all its might to try and impede its progression. It made a valiant effort, but was nonetheless pushed further and further back as Born This Way tore up the ground beneath it.

Josuke started to panic as even taking a breath was becoming a struggle. He realized Born This Way was heading for a wall, and he was gonna get crushed like an ant against it.

Yashuo screamed for her JoJo as she made a mad dash away from Holy’s room and down to the entrance of the hospital.

“Such a sweet girl,” Holy remarked. “It seems she has one, but isn’t aware of it yet.” Holy was referring to the Stand hiding in Yasuho’s shadow, which had sprawled itself out into a visibly feminine figure whose body was a pillar of cyan shine, its being the blue light of a phone screen.

She arrived in the parking lot to witness Josuke about to be smashed against a brick wall by a giant motorcycle exactly as he had described. She felt herself going into a panic attack as she was unable to do anything, clutching her phone for dear life like she normally did in a disaster situation.

“Ishi no Ketsumyaku is a science fiction novel by Ryo Hanmura. It won the third Seiun Award in 1972, and was the first major work to popularize Hanmura in the world of Japanese science fiction literature”

What in the world? Why had her phone brought up some book?

“Please proceed 12 metres.”

And now her GPS suddenly came on? She hadn’t typed in any address though, and 12 meters was barely a distance worth noting. Why was she caring about any of this now when the love of her life was about to be pulverized before her sweet innocent eyes?!

Did she just say the love of her life?

Glancing 12 metres ahead of her, Yasuho saw something on the ground.

“There’s no way…”

She ran over to it and saw it was a book, laying spine-up with its pages sprawled open. Ishi no Ketsumyaku, just like her phone said. Yasuho didn’t need any more help before the penny dropped, and she slammed the book shut.

Just like that, Born This Way vanished again, and Josuke fell a short distance to the group.

“JoJo!” Yasuho yelled in concern and joy mixed together as she rushed to his side. His breathing was extremely heavy as he pulled himself up.

“Yasuho, you just saved my ass again. I’ve been owing you a lot lately.” He stared with sincere gratitude into her eyes.

“It’s nothing.” Yasuho blushed deeply. “Just a lucky coincidence. I wonder if maybe that book has some kind of new technology in it that lets your phone look it up instantly.”

Josuke just nodded, he could tell she didn’t know yet, but he understood. His ally had been her all along.

“Come on Yasuho, sweetheart,” he looked up from her. “This attack is like a curse was put on me; Our only option is to end it before we proceed. Paisley Park!” he commanded his phone, “Lead us to Kyo Nijimura!”

Morioh was an incredible place. In only 13 days, Yasuho had witnessed such extraordinary abilities beyond her wildest dreams. And now she walked hand in hand with Josuke, guided by the electronically motherish voice coming from his phone.

“It seems like it’s leading us to a scrapyard for old cars. Makes sense that she’d hide out away from the house.”

“JoJo. Back there in the hospital, I got a bite mark on my leg, like the one that was around your birthmark.”

Josuke looked over at her with interest. Yasuho felt scared to admit it, but she understood what was happening now. “This power that’s guiding us, you called it ‘Paisley Park.’ It belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

“She told me she’s an automatic power, with a mind of her own,” Josuke answered, unsure of how Yasuho felt about the situation.

“It makes sense,” she sniffled a bit. “Since back before I was even a teenager, my mom has never been there for me, and dad left too. The only thing I had for a parent was my cell phone. And now it really can be like a mother to me. To you too,” she glumly added.

Josuke tightened his grip around her hand. “We’re here,” he said as he coldly stared down Nijimura the maid, who was using the rear view mirror of a junked up van to draw eyeliner on herself while snacking on a bag of citrus fruits.

She turned around to face Josuke, and tossed her eyeliner pencil right at him. He wanted to slap himself as he instinctively caught it, the slightly loose cap popping open in his hands.

Yasuho gasped as Born This Way appeared from right behind him, trying to crush him flat again. Summoning courage in her heart, Yasuho dove under it , to where the eyeliner had landed, and slammed the cap back on. Born This Way was gone again.

Josuke wasted no time as Soft & Wet’s fists emerged from his own, followed by the rest of its body as it began a full assault on Nijimura.

“ORA ORA ORA ORA ARA ORA!”

Josuke had no mercy as he pummeled her face in, blood streaks forming from the corners of her lips as she was slammed against the ground.

She looked up at the duo with venom in her eyes.

“I dare you! Go to where Holy Joestar-Kira is! I’ll kill you! The girl too! I’ll cut both of you right down in your tracks damn it! I don’t care if you bring the entire Goddamn Higashikata Family, I’ll kill all of you!”

Josuke looked at her now with more confusion than anything.

“Entire Goddamn Higashikata Family?” he parroted, confused by her sentiment against them. “What the hell are you talking about!” he demanded as he grabbed her, tearing the shoulder of her outfit open.

“That bastard Norisuke put you up to this! Or maybe it was that eldest son Jobin, but either way you’re all working together!” Tears started to well up in her hate filled eyes.

“JoJo,” Yasuho softly called to him.

“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said as he put Soft & Wet away. “You win, you deactivate your power from me and I’ll leave Holy Joestar alone,” he said as he began walking back out of the dump. “But I want you to answer me one more question.”

For a second, everything was still.

“Why do you have the same birthmark as me?”

She broke down fully, her cold persona suddenly devolved into a sobbing mess.

"Oh my gosh.” Yasuho realized, pointing at Nijimura. “You’re Kei Kira, aren’t you?”

“You said about ‘those God damn Higashikatas’, like they’re your enemies, even though you work for them. This whole time, we thought you were attacking us on Norisuke’s orders.”

“I’ll kill you both,” she kept repeating through her tears. “I- I!”

“Am I really your brother then, Yoshikage Kira?”

She silently stood up and regained her composure. “I should’ve figured it was something like this,” she solemnly said to herself.

Josuke flinched as she walked straight up to him, but she no longer seemed intent on attacking.

“Your eyes, they’re two different colors,” she observed. “That’s called partial heterochromia. Your skin seems to almost be two different colors too, vitiligo.”

“What the hell are you getting at?” Josuke demanded.

“Stick out your tongue,” she requested, nearly forcing his mouth open herself. Still confused, Josuke decided to oblige.

“Two different colors again, it even seems like there’s a nice even seem going down the middle to connect them.”

“Can you stop with the body critique and just give me a straight answer damn it!”

“I get it now. You want to know who you are? Follow me back to the Wall Eyes,” she gathered up her bag of fruit and marched out of the dump, Josuke and Yasuho following her with worry.

Chapter Text

“This city is a very special place,” Kei Kira said as she, Josuke, and Yasuho walked through a set of Wall Eyes, the cruel faces made from their deep mineral deposits staring at them tauntingly.

“Over there’s part of the Twin Pines, two trees that grew from the same trunk, until they were split up by the earthquake. This place has special meaning in my family. Shotaro Ishinomori used to meditate under there, he wrote Cyborg 009 and created Kamen Rider,” Kei smiled to herself. “Back when I was a teen, Yoshikage and I used to watch it every week. And now there are Wall Eyes here, and by that spring, and on the Higashikata Estate.”

Having Josuke and Yasuho’s attention with her mellow expositing, she reached into her bag and pulled out a knife along with two fruits.

“I brought with us a lemon, and a tangerine,” she rolled both fruits over in her palm before she knelt down and dug up a small hole in the ground with hands, gingerly placing the two fruits in the hole and throwing the discarded dirt back over them.

“I found out about this after the earthquake, but it’s not a new occurrence. The Wall Eyes aren’t what makes Morioh special; This city has had magic lurking in it for hundreds of years.”

“Since before the Meiji Era?” Yasuho asked. Kei nodded a confirmation.

“I’ll give you one last chance to go off and live in blissful ignorance if you don’t want the truth.”

“The truth about what?” Josuke asked, but he already knew the answer.

“The truth about who you are,” she dug the fruits back up and held a knife to them. “Calm your heart. I think you’re really my ally, so I’ll tell you this, but calm your heart and be ready to accept it.”

Lemons are yellow. Tangerines are orange.

And yet when she sliced the two fruits in half, drops of juice staining her fingers, there were slices of the opposite color in each.

The tangerine had some of its slices replaced with lemon, and the lemon had chunks of tangerine mixed in it.

Josuke started crying.

“When two things get buried here, they will exchange with each other. Exchange an equivalent amount. The Higashikatas know about it. One every generation, they exchange a life for a life. A disease for a cure. Ailment for health.”

“Who am I!?” Josuke shouted. “You better quit with your theatrics and tell me right now!”

“I told you, calm down. Nobody can know that we’ve been here.”

“I’m right here!” he was screaming now. “I have no memories, but there’s things I care about! I only have two weeks of living, but I know it! I like sleeping with a mattress on top of me, and listening to music from the ‘70s. And Yasuho! I love her too!”

Yasuho gasped, but couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than inch over and grip Josuke’s palm.

“There’s no way in Hell I can be anybody but me, so tell me who the hell ‘me’ is! Who’s the person shouting at you right now, huh?”

“You’re right. You’re ‘you’, Josuke Higashikata. You are your own person as everybody else on this planet is; You’ve already started making your own identity.”

“Who the hell am I! I’m Yoshikage Kira, right? The body they found is just some red herring! Tell me I’m Yoshikage! Just say it already!”

“He’s only half,” Kei herself teared up again. “My brother is dead. He vanished earlier this month, and now he’s you. But there’s another person. I don’t know who it is, but it’s the truth. You’re nobody, Josuke.”

“No! You’re lying damn it! This is still an attack!”

Kei slapped him. “Your Stand, show it to me.”

Soft & Wet came out as if it obeyed by itself.

“Your bubbles, take a hard look at them. They’re split too.”

It was true. The bubbles were lopsided, one end slightly bigger than the other, connected perfectly down the middle.

“Yoshikage had a Stand which made bubbles too, but they made things they touched explode. It looked entirely different too, it was skinnier, and had ears like a cat.” Kei dragged her hair up with her fingers to briefly demonstrate the visual.

“So their minds are fused too.” Yasuho concluded.

“Not ‘fused’,” Kei corrected, “exchanged. That’s why they found my brother’s body. You’re ‘somebody’ with Yoshikage’s body parts mixed on, and Yoshikage had the body parts of ‘somebody’ mixed on to him.”

Kei straightened her hair and hat, looking out towards the direction of 3121 Hill. “Now that you understand, that family must be our next target. They know something. Yasuho?”

Yasuho perked up at her mention of the name.

“I apologize for threatening you before; The truth is that although I don’t trust him, Norisuke never said anything of the sort, I was just trying to scare you off because I believed you to be another enemy. Let me give you two my phone number, it’s too risky to keep talking here. I’m going to the hospital to see mom, you two can meet me there.”

Josuke and Yasuho were left alone, and just sat together on a Wall Eye’s ledge for what seemed like hours.

“Hey JoJo.”

“Yeah?” Josuke anticipated that now would be when Yasuho decided that hanging out with a freak of nature like him was more trouble than it was worth.

“I think I love you too.”

“Hello again girl.” Holy turned aside to Kei. “Don’t you think she’s cute? You should ask her out.”

Josuke gulped as he came face to face with her, dodging looking her in the eye by focusing on the plastic rims of her librarian glasses. Kei had braided her hair for her.

“Oh! Yoshikage! It’s been a-” Holy cut herself off mid sentence, just before Josuke’s heart sank all the way to the Mariana Trench.

“Ah, I’m so dumb. For a second I thought that coat rack was Yoshikage standing there.”

“It was about 16 months ago. Mama had been chronically sick for years by then, but we never knew it. One day she couldn’t stop it any longer though, she started collapsing in front of us, she said her joints were too hard to move. Her skin would turn dry and stiff like a stone.” Kei had started to explain everything in the privacy of the hospital room, after shutting the door on the hospital staff. Josuke and Yasuho themselves were as still as statues as they listened to Kei’s chilling story. She had changed out of her uniform into regal looking black overalls over a navy blue dress shirt.

“A ‘Rock Syndrome’; I poured through every medical journal in this city trying to find anything like it, but there was nothing. No science or clinical treatment of it. It was a complete phantom, except for one thing. There was a legend, from the Meiji Era, that a girl in the Higashikata Family had the same disease. Rina Higashikata.”

“Rina?” Josuke interjected. “She was-”

“Yoshikage and I’s Great Great Grandmother,” Kei finished. “The Higashikatas keep secrets well, and I had reason from the past to never trust them, so I thought I was out of luck. However, luck is just thing that always comes back for the Kira Family, and the family was seeking a housekeeper at that same time. So I crafted the false identity of expert maid Kyo Nijimura and got myself inside the home. I decided that it was my mission in life to discover their secrets.”

“Hey, hold on now,” Yasuho stood up indignantly. “Sneaking into their home like that, is that really necessary? I’ve been friends with the Higashikata Family nearly my entire life, and they’ve never done anything wrong to me!”

Kei dismissed her. “Yasuho, you’re too naive. The Higashikatas, they look like some humble band of kindly fruit vendors, but they’re the kings of this city. They’re worth millions, and they have friends in the courthouse and at every news station. Not to mention they’re certainly all Stand users. Josuke, when you first came to the house, you got into a fight with the youngest daughter Daiya, didn’t you?” Josuke nodded in confirmation.

“Even as powerful as my Stand is, it can only go after one person at a time. If I mark somebody, I can unleash or dismiss it on them at any time forever, but only one at a time. I have them all marked in case I’m ever attacked, but I could never really win against an entire family of Stand users, abilities all unknown. No matter which way you cut it, the Higashikatas are the type of people you just can’t go after. It’s impossible to chase them; That’s why my only option is to investigate in disguise.”

“Sounds like something you’d do,” Holy agreed, having heard after Kei's Explanation strayed too far from the whisper she had initially been speaking in. “And tell Yoshikage to come see his dear old mom sometime, it’s been a while now.”

Josuke felt himself tremble. “I, this woman, I can’t remember ever meeting her but I know it. I know I want to protect her, and save her!”

“You sound just like him.” Kei went cold and serious again. “One day her rock condition had vanished, it had been like that sometimes, traveling through different parts of her body, but this time she fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up.” Kei’s voice had the echoes of panic in it. “Yoshikage, he was a surgeon too, and his Stand could deploy tank bombs that could scan somebody’s body and travel them at at any size. He sent a tank into her body and saw her brain. Instead of her flesh, her brain was coated in rocks, and they were putting pressure on her brain.”

“You said his Stand could explode things,” Yasuho was putting the dot together now. “So Holy’s brain has parts of it missing-”

“It was Yoshikage,” Kei confirmed. “He panicked and blew them out of her head himself. It woke her back up, but she’s been like this since.” Kei wiped the tear welling in her eyes. “It seems so dumb but, he really was a genius. It’d have killed her otherwise! That’s the Higashikatas secret! With them, it’s their first born son! It was Norisuke in his generation, and Jobin in this one. When they turn about 10 years old, they develop the same fatal Rock Syndrome. They only survive because one of their parents performs an equivalent exchange with them in the ground, and dies in their place!”

Yasuho was stunned. She had never had the guts to ask what happened to the Higashikata kids’ mother, but now her absence made sense.

“He said the same thing as you, Josuke.” Kei put her arm on his shoulder. “It was months ago, when I discovered the equivalent exchange power. He told me he knew what to do now, that he knew how to save mom and he was gonna do it if it was the last thing he did. Then he’d disappear for weeks and weeks at a time, and now he’s turned up dead! He’s gone now, but I believe that drive, that determination he had, it’s in you too. That’s why I know you have the same mission we’ve both been on. That’s how the Kira Family is, no matter what kind of disaster happens, we find a way to bring luck back on our side.”

“There’s only one next step we can take. We have to find the truth about what happened to Yoshikage, and find out who else you are. Once that happens, I’m certain that we can walk on the golden path Yoshikage left for us to find.”

Josuke gulped, and gears in his head turned. “Alright Kei, we’re forming a team, right here, right now. Yasuho and I are after my identity, and you’re after a way to help your mother. The connecting link to all of them is the mysteries of the Higashikata Family. You were too afraid to ‘chase’ them by yourself, but now you have two more Stand users. Not to mention, Daiya is loyal to me, and Joshu is loyal to Yasuho, so we don’t have to be afraid of them. We’re going to confront Norisuke Higashikata directly, and lead ourselves on this golden path you speak of!”

Chapter Text

“Norisuke Higashikata… You act like my friend, and you saved me from being in prison or on the streets, but…”

Josuke watched him from around a corner, silently considering the man as he walked to his office suite upstairs.

“Just what kind of a person are you really?”

Josuke was distracted from his thoughts by a tug on his sleeve. Looking down, he found he was being clung onto by the child of the household; The eldest son he had yet to meet’s daughter, whose name had slipped his mind after his recent discovers. Something like “Suugi”? 

“Heya,” the portly child smirked at him. “I got a gift for ya!” she said, presenting him with a featureless doll crudely cut out of construction paper. 

 Josuke was bemused, but smiled. “Oh, why thank you.” 

“Oh don’t thank me, I’m just playing delivery man,” she said, already walking away. 

“Huh? Who made this then?”

“Hmmmm a secret,” Tsurugi Higashikata giggled.

Life had settled for Yasuho in the last couple days. While Josuke and Kei Kira were waiting for a time to confront Norisuke Higashikata, she had mostly been flustered over how the former was seemingly now her boyfriend.

It was late in the evening when she got a sudden text from him, strikingly blunt and with quite a few obvious errors.

“Yasuho, come meet at the lone pine tonite.”

Calls back went unanswered, leaving Yasuho to throw her shoes on, braid her hair, and venture out into the setting sun.

“The Lone Pine” had become the new name for a tree that was once “The Twin Pine.” It was two trees which grew intertwined on the Higashikata’s farm, but when the Wall Eyes formed, one half of the tree had been forced off and dragged to the coast.

“You, come here.”

 Yasuho jumped as a hoarse whisper echoed from the night.

“Ga... Here. Me. To me.”

“Who’s there?” she yelped, and started fleeing from the Meditation Pine, hiding against another nearby tree that was uprooted from the earthquake. “Josuke?”

Without warning she was grabbed from behind her, tripping as she instinctively tugged away, she was gripped tight by the wrist and pulled down a dark hole in the ground which she hadn’t noticed before, falling into seeming oblivion.

Her fall onto hard cement was only softened by a dingy dollar store rug thrown down without much thought. The walls and ceiling were made of the same colorless, unbreakable concrete as the floor. Contrasting the jail cell-esque construction were tables lined with toys and games, even an honest-to-God novelty cuckoo clock sat on the wall, waiting for the time it would stick out a little wood bird in your face.

“Tsurugi sweetie, where are we?” Yasuho was at least relieved to see that the person who had pulled her down was not the latest psychopath who had beef with her dirt boyfriend, but her own honorary niece: Jobin and Mitsuba Higashikata’s daughter.

She casually ignored Yasuho’s question, instead fumbling in a mini-fridge placed underneath a large valved pipe jutting across the top of the wall.

“You need something to drink?” she held out her offerings, one box and one can. “I have a soy milk, or an ice cold cola.”

Yasuho fixed her shirt as she got on her feet and walked out of the room into the hallway of a stone labyrinth, dashing to a sliver of light coming out of a small rectangular window.

“What kind of bunker is this place? It looks like a prison in here,” she shuttered.

She walked back to the room where she came from, finding Tsurugi playing with her mom’s glasses in another corner with a coat rack hanging over another odd assortment of canned cocoa and flip flops on a stained wood bench-table. A contextless painting of an old car was framed next to them all, signed by Norisuke Higashikata and dated 1912, a relic of the second generation.

 “Tsurugi,” Yasuho was trying to put on a firm mom voice. “Why’d you pull me down here? That was you, right? How’d you make your voice sound like that?” Yasuho recalled the ghostly echo which had startled her in the first place.

“Huh? I didn’t say nothing Auntie; I was just waiting for you to show up, I texted you after all.”

“You? You sent me that text.”

“Mhm! All I had to do was sneak into Aunt Daiya’s room. They told me that that weird guy Josuke has been using her phone.”

“...They?” Yasuho asked. “Who?”

“Hmmmm a secret,” Tsurugi giggled. “Anyway, you looked pretty scared, so I thought I was rescuing you! See, after the earthquake, that tree up above by the big Pine got pulled out of the ground a little, and that vent up there popped open!” she pointed up to the hole Yasuho had fallen in through, with a set of mobile stairs positioned underneath. “I tried to get you to go down those steps but you twisted and fell, sorry about that. I got stuck the first time I fell, but was able to find those little steps, and now I have my own secret room! I don’t think mom or dad or grandpa ever found out about it, but look at all this cool stuff!”

Tsurugi pulled a paper fortune teller out of the clutter. “Ya-Su-Ho Hi-Ro-Se,” she chanted as she folded it around. “Pick which one is your favorite,” she asked, referring to a set of four words written on the inside of the teller. Annoyed, Yasuho tapped her finger on one at random.

“Alright, banana! Let’s find out,” Tsurugi unfolded her fortune teller, revealing more words. “Newspaper for you! Here I got one, it’s super old, it says ‘Meiji 34’ on it. It has some stuff about our ancestors.”

Meiji 34, that’s 1901! “Give me that!” Yasuho went for the paper.

“Ah ha! You’ve been spying on our family lately, haven’t ya?”

“No no!” Yasuho backtracked. “I’m sorry honey, I’m just anxious because of, stuff I’ve been doing with JoJo. We’re dating now, you see? And when two grown ups are in that kind of rela-”

“That guy who’s been pilfering around the house? You dumped Uncle Joshu to be with him?” Tsurugi interrupted her. “I don’t think I’ve ever really talked to him, but he seems nice enough. Unfooortunately, I’m supposed to make him come to this bunker too.”

“W-what? Tsurugi! What are you talking about!” Yasuho went to climb back out of this bizarre encounter and go find Josuke for real, when she got that little stomach drop one feels when they’ve forgotten something.

“Hey, where’s my phone?” Yasuho never liked being without her phone, but now certainly was a particularly bad time to lose it. “I need my phone!”

“Hm? I don’t see any phones here? Did you have one to begin with?” Tsurugi cheekily answered.

“This isn’t a joke, Tsurugi! Auntie Yasuho’s getting mad.” Yasuho started ruffling through every pile of objects in the room - which there were many of - trying to find her phone. She flipped through forgotten toys, old tools, and family photo albums.

"You and Josuke, you guys are trying to figure out about our family's curse, aren't you?"

Yasuho wondered if she actually passed out and was having a fever dream, witnessing this gremlin child casually mention the familial lore that she had learned from a literal maid spy and a bunch of old newspapers like one would explain they were taking an evening art class.

"They say that it passes from first born son to first born son, but girls only ever get it when they're adults. Because of that, family tradition is to make us all dress as girls, so the spirits who cause it get confused! I don't really think that works, to be honest, but I liked wearing these clothes better anyway," Tsurugi shrugged, "so I just went along with what my dad and grandpa talked about."

Come to think of it, that “literal maid spy” part was a bit odd too. This was probably all just an elaborate hallucination.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

The dim light of the bunker had been splashing Yasuho’s shadow onto the wall, and it was slowly creeping up and back outside. Paisley Park crawled out of the bunker and saw what she was looking for: Josuke, who was doing evening snack shopping with Daiya, having taken hold of her phone for her.

Paisley Park poured into the cellphone and sent a shockwave of herself up Josuke’s spine.

“Hey… Who sent this weird text to Yasuho?” Josuke grimaced. “I need to call her, maybe that Joshu ambushed her,” he suddenly decided, like he was playing a video game and got a puzzle hint popped onto his screen.

It was ringing! Her phone was ringing! What a miracle, even though it was probably poor JoJo wondering where she went.

“Where’s the phone, Tsurugi? I hear it, it’s under that paper fortune teller you made!” She ripped the fortune teller up from the ground, revealing her phone.

Further evidence of the “grand mal hallucination” theory: Her phone was a frog. Not an actual frog, not even a detailed one. It was like a little origami frog, something you’d make for arts and crafts in preschool. But it was a phone. It was made of phone, folded up into a frog. Except phones don’t fold, and if they do then they sure as heck don’t keep ringing. And yet the frog phone was in front of her. In fact, it jumped right onto her face, leaving her feeling very very dizzy for some reason.

It’s like how she felt back then, before she passed out.

She started to cry. It all made sense, she was dead. She died then, and this was just a taste of Heaven.

“Auntie Yasuho? Hey it’s okay! I’m sorry, that was just my Stand! Look, your phone is fine!”

Tsurugi was indeed holding her normal phone over. She had even answered it.

“Yasuho? Hello?”

“JoJo!” she bawled into the phone screen. “I need you to come outside to the Lone Meditation Pine”

“Are you two Stand users too?” Tsurugi interrupted.

Yasuho gulped nervously. She had made it to adulthood without having much experience fighting evil spirits, but apparently that made her a minority, and even the 10 year old had been in the loop on magic this whole time. 

“Guess I shouldn’t have let that slip, I forgot that even normal people can see my ‘Paper Kingdom’ since it’s made from regular stuff.”

“Stand? Is that Daiya and Joshu’s niece on the phone? Hold on Yasuho, I’m out of the house. Where are you at, I’m coming as soon as I can!”

“Uh, don’t worry about it JoJo. I’m fine, I’ll explain when I get outside.” Yasuho disregarded Tsurugi and started to climb up the steps to hoist herself out of the bunker, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. “There’s a little bistro right down the block, the Honey Sesame Café, I’m gonna wait for you there. We can get that dango like I brought you in the hospital.”

JoJo wholeheartedly agreed, and Yasuho so relieved and comforted by his offer that she decided to skip out on the chance of being ranted at by Joshu or forced into some family game and just go straight to the café, going out through the orchard instead of telling him to wait for her in the house.

The Higashikatas were definitely her friends, but the past week had just been so stressful with them, and she wasn’t sure what to think of them in light of all her recent discoveries.

“Hey wait, you don’t get it! I don’t want it to be on you too!” Tsurugi was yelling something after her, but she felt so unnerved that she just wanted to get to JoJo ASAP.

She walked through the orchard back out onto the street as fast as she could. It wasn’t a wise idea for her to be alone with her thoughts for very long right now. The only thing she stopped to take note was the sound of small footsteps in the grass next to her.

“What a weird… dog?”

Dog was the closest comparison. It was a medium sized animal which was hunched over like a big warthog, sniffing around the ground.

She decided she had enough weirdness for one session. She’ll come back to worry about the orchard cryptid later.

Outside, Josuke stepped into the night, puzzled about what in the world was going on this time. As he made down the manor’s long asphalt driveway, he was briefly stopped in his tracks by an unexpected crinkle.  

He looked down, and found a scrap of paper folded into a frog, wedged in a crack by the force of his shoe.

Chapter Text

 Yasuho rarely ever went out to the city at night, this being the first time in a long while she had let herself get fully engulfed by the night’s city lights.

“Excuse me,” A woman had walked up to Yasuho, speaking in a bland monotone. She almost sounded like a text-to-speech program, but lacked the computerized grain which still kept it in the realm of humanity. “Do you know which bus stop I need to go to get to Sendai?”

“Oh sure,” Yasuho turned her head out of line of sight of the woman to point. “It’s at that traffic light over there.” In the short time she spoke, another woman walked past her.

Another woman, but the same woman.

Yasuho turned her head back around but found herself frozen. Two people were there, but they looked the same. They looked like

What did they look like?

“Oh thank you.” One of them walked away in the other direction.

But they looked the same. They looked like

What did they look like?

It was dark outside but the streets were blasted by road lamps and neon shop signs. They were so well illuminated but she couldn’t see anything. There was nothing about them. There were no faces, no eyes or nose or mouth. They just looked like mannequins or paper cut outs.

Yasuho took deep breaths as she tried to walk further to the Honey Sesame Café.

“Excuse me miss, please watch where you’re standing. I’m washing this window and the sidewalk might be slippery.”

Yasuho’s heart sank. He talked just like that weird woman who wanted bus directions. In a different voice, but with the exact same featureless manner of speech. There was a person standing there washing a window like they said, but it was the woman who wanted to get to the bus stop.

Well, Yasuho thought so, but there wasn’t actually any reason they looked alike. It was like those two from before. They were standing right under a chain of lights but their face was completely darkened out. She tried to find one feature about this guy. His hair texture, the shape of his ears, but there wasn’t anything there. He had clothes on, but his body was completely meaningless.

And everybody else’s was too.

How many people were on the sidewalk? 5? 15? 30? Why couldn’t she make out any of them? They looked like a platoon of plastic figures which had been freshly molded. They had different clothes, but all the people were the same. Same height, same build. Yasuho brought her knuckles to her eyes, desperate to rub out whatever was blocking her version like this.

A tiny clink on the ground provided her with an explanation to cope with.

“Darn! It all makes sense now, my contact was loose. And now I gotta go back home to find another one.” Yasuho gulped as she suddenly realized the implications of trying to walk back to her house with such blurry vision.

“PLEASE TURN RIGHT”

That voice! It was coming from her phone.

“Paisley Park!” Yasuho was relieved. Paisley Park had appeared to guide her to her house.

“LOOK DOWN”

“Hm?” Yasudo tilted her head down as asked, and through her bad eyesight could see an origami frog on the ground. She started trembling. It was just like what she thought she saw her phone as, but made of actual paper.

“Calm down Yasuho, it’s just a trick of the light.” she wanted to believe that, but knew Paisley Park wouldn’t have pointed it out for nothing.

“Tsurugi… She was talking about having a Stand when that happened. Is she following me?”

Yasuho splashed water on her face, spreading open the lid of her bad eye to slide her contact in.

“What do you want for dinner, Yasuho?” her mother yelled to her from the couch, where she sat and danced her fingers across her PlayStation controller.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m going back out. You can just sit and play your game.”

“Wow, what’s that about? Come on, we’re so distant lately. Just play one quick game. If you wanna meet a friend somewhere I’ll drive you when we’re done to make up for the lost time.” She walked into the bathroom to try and bargain with her daughter. “Where are you going anyways? You never go out this late,” she added as an afterthought.

“Don’t bite my head off, okay? I’m in a bad mood.”

“So I can’t offer you a hand? Are you trying to say I’m a bad mother?”

“You’re projecting again.” Yasuho was so irritated that she almost shoved her contact straight through her eye.

She blinked to let her vision readjust, then turned to her mother and

Where’s her mother?

“Mama?” Yasuho was instead disarmed into the state of a scared little girl. Her mother was there, standing right in front of her, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there, she was there but she wasn’t there. Her dress was there but her body was gone. There was a blank doll standing there, wearing her mom’s dress.

Yasuho started shaking. She kept chanting for her mother over and over again, the mannequin’s concerns falling on her deaf ears and everything started closing in around her.

Yasuho turned back to the mirror. She always hated mirrors, but she really hated this one.

Because she wasn’t in it.

Her clothes were there, her hair was there, the way she was standing was there. The only thing missing was her. There wasn’t a person there. It was just

She couldn’t see anything about herself. She kept trying to see her eyes or that cut on her cheek or her nail polish but she

She couldn’t see it but she could see it. She saw them she knew it she was looking at her face, but it wasn’t there. She just couldn’t see her face even though it was right there in front of her.

“Yasuho?” that person put her hand on that other person’s shoulder. One was Yasuho and one was her mom, but she couldn’t see them. Everything was the same. “Yasuho, what’s wrong!?”

Yasuho’s mother was screaming in panic, but all her daughter could hear was some bland monotone imitation of her voice.

Yasuho couldn’t take it anymore. She screamed and slammed her fist to the mirror, cracking it up and leaving her knuckles bruised. She dashed out of her house back to the streets. All she wanted to do was go see Josuke. He’d be able to solve this.

She huddled down around the corner of a building to have a cry. It was still like this, she couldn’t see anybody. Herself, the people on the street, on TVs, in photos. They were right there and she could see people but she just couldn’t see “them!”

But then an exception rolled up. A short walk away, fiddling with some origami, was Tsurugi.

“Hey Auntie Yasuho! Are you alright? I came to help you!”

She was stopped from going to Tsurugi by her phone ringing again, desperately picking it up to hear Josuke.

And it was Josuke too! Not just some imperceptible imitation of his voice!

“JoJo! I need your help! Are you still heading to the Honey Sesame Café?”

“Yeah, uh something weird is going on. Earlier I stepped on a piece of paper somebody left, and now uh. How do I put this.”

“You can’t tell anybody apart?”

Good to know she wasn’t crazy this time.

“How’d you know?” Josuke sounded surprised. It was so good to hear an emotion from somebody.

“Just go to that cafe, and look out for Tsurugi Higashikata! I’m pretty sure this is her doing!”

“Wow, you meanie! I’m trying to make everybody happy y’know.” Tsurugi wobbled up to her. “Here, want a grape soda? You look pretty thirsty.”

“Scram Tsurugi! Are you the one messing with us?”

“Just come back to the bunker guys, I can reeeeeally help you out,” she offered.

“Bunker?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know Mr.Sailor Boy, you were living in it not long ago.” Both in complete confusion at this statement, Yasuho tried to yell after Tsurugi, but she had already skipped off.

“Uh Yasuho. I’ll meet you at the cafe, but I think I see the Stand.”

“You do? Is it Tsurugi?”

On the other end of the phone, Josuke squinted. “Uh negatory, I still can’t tell anybody else apart, but it’s an adult for sure.” Josuke felt dizzy and blinked a few times, opening his eyes to find everybody normal.

“Hey! Yasuho! I can see people again!”

Yasuho felt the greatest relief ever as she realized the same was true of her.

“Alright then! Who’s the Stand user?”

“It’s uh, you said you thought it was Tsurugi Higashikata, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, it looks like it’s-”

Joshu had been having some of the greatest days of his life. After he graciously allowed that poor fool Josuke to use some of the money he had successfully scammed off the fiendish thugs of Shakedown Road, he had still come out with 70000 yen profit! And it was all thanks to his new ability: The mighty ghost warrior Nut King Call!

“Alright champ! Show me your grand public debut!”

As it had when it first appeared to him, Joshu’s Stand was sitting on all fours, calmly offering his hand out.

“No no! Not like that! You gotta make the public tremble before your awe! At least stand up, man!”

His Stand lumbered and stood in place, imposing its figure like the inflatable tube man in front of a car dealership.

“Nah put some spirit into it man! You gotta incorporate your arms, like this!” Joshu thrusted his left arm out towards the mirror surface of a closed shop's window while his right arm retracted up and behind him. Nut King Call imitated. “Great job! Now hold like that…” Joshu readjusted his own arm position into something more casually imposing, his left arm laying at his side while his right switched to menacingly pointing outwards. “Ah, perfect! Come on, let's do this!”

“Humble working people of Morioh!” Joshu had stolen a megaphone Jobin got as a gift from a friend of his who worked security for the Mori Stadium, and had taken to the streets a few minutes away from the Higashikata Estate to begin his uprising as the beloved philosopher king of Japan. Only a few people cared to take more than a split second glance at him.

“For many years you have lived under the oppressive thumb of modern civilization! Slaving away at the job you hate, so you can afford to buy things for a family you never get to spend time with, and impress people you hate! But no longer, for I, Joshu of the FIfth Generation Higashikata Family, have been chosen as the one to rise above this world! Bare witness to my superior power, and follow me as the king of a new era!”

Nut King Call appeared behind Joshu, still carefully holding the pose its user had shown him earlier.

“Rejoice!”

Everybody just kept walking.

Joshu didn’t expect this.

“What the hell!” he started punching the megaphone out of frustration. “Are these people blind or something?”

“You there!” he shouted at a random businessman. “What be your name?”

“Sorry, I don’t have any change.”

“Fear not, abused middle class man! Allow me to be your salvation!” Joshu floated Nut King Call right up to the man’s face, and he still just gave Joshu a funny look and kept walking.

“God.”

“Damn it.”

“Can’t anybody else but me see you?!!!!” Nut King Call shook its ovular head. Joshu pouted. Maybe if he could get on a stage and show himself using its power, people would have to listen to him even if they couldn’t see it.

“Hey! Yasuho! I can see people again!”

Joshu instantly leaped out of his self-pity. Did someone just say Yasuho?

“Alright then! Who’s the Stand user?”

It was his Little Strawberry! Coming from a cell phone, having been the other side of a conversation Joshu barely registered. Something about TV stands.

“It’s uh, you said you thought it was Tsurugi Higashikata, right?”

Tsurugi? Why was she talking about his niece? Joshu realized with contempt that the other person on the phone, the one actually in front of him, was none other than that bastard mutt Josuke!

“Yeah?”

“Well, it looks like it’s-” Josuke glared up at Joshu. “Joshu!” he bellowed both into the phone and at the man himself.

“Oh uh, hey man, what’s hanging?” Joshu acted casually, plotting to get to the bottom of what he was doing in the middle of the night talking to her.

“Soft & Wet!” Josuke screamed as another figure appeared out from behind him.

“No way! You son of a bitch! You have one too!?”

“Eat shit horse head!” Josuke’s Stand mercilessly pummeled Joshu in the face. “Tell me how your power works! Right fucking now!”

“Screws screws screws!” Joshu started crying a little bit. “It takes things apart by making screws show up on them!”

“Wait, you’re not the one who was just making me and Yasuho not able to see people?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Josuke let up on him, allowing Joshu the privilege of stumbling up.

“Should I trust that you’re not lying?”

Joshu pitifully demonstrated his power to Josuke by disassembling a small chunk of sidewalk then sticking it back on flipped around.

“Hmmm, sorry then.” Josuke dashed away into the night. “By the way! This never happened!”

“Aw man, something really weird is going on here.” Joshu confided only to the company of his Stand, having been ignored still by the night workers of Morioh as he dusted road gravel off of his clothes. “A few days ago we got stuck on that Shakedown Road where the leaves moved, and now Yasuho and that gap-toothed bastard are running around plotting in the night! Let's go Nut King Call, Yasuho might be in danger!"

His dreams of world conquest thrown in the trash and crushed up by a garbage truck, Joshu decided to be a personal hero instead. If Josuke had a - “Stand” he was calling them on the phone - too, maybe he could be his dear sidekick.

Chapter Text

“False alarm, wasn’t Joshu,” Josuke corrected over the phone. “Are you nearly at Honey Sesame now?”

Yasuho looked up to the streets, and found she was indeed right at the entrance of the Honey Sesame Café.

“Ah, yeah!” She gleefully answered. “I’m right outside actually! I’ll head in and wait for you!”

“Alright, see you there.”

Yasuho gulped for a moment. “Love you.”

It’d been a while since she hung up the phone like that.

Yasuho walked into the cafe, looking for a table to find and hoping for a glance at the menu. She wanted to get some cute seasonal drink.

But she found neither of those things.

“This… This isn’t the cafe?”

Yasuho had somehow found herself inside a music store, aisles and aisles of CDs lined up for display. There was Honey Sesame Café by Honey Sesame Café, its cover a man in a glowing crystalline helmet surrounded by several copies of himself. One with striking art of a city with a tall, winding road emerging from the body of an owl under surgery, Honey Sesame Café by Honey Sesame Café. Hanging on a clearance rack was one with the blocky silhouette of two men - one afroed and one bald - filled in with geometric art of a city scape, Honey Sesame Café’s Honey Sesame Café.

There was an old record showing a black and white photo of a strong jawed young man pouring his soul out while strumming on a large guiter, Honey Sesame Café’s Honey Sesame Café, which Toru had made Yasuho listen to with him once. And Yasuo’s favorite, with the ever haunting gaze of a ginger woman sitting in a green dress in front of a flower patterned wall - with roses laid in front of her -, it was Honey Sesame Café by Honey Sesame Café! So many songs on there which had helped her through late night cry sessions. Honey Sesame Café, Honey Sesame Café, Honey Sesame Café, and of course Honey Sesame Café, the greatest song ever written.

Something’s not right.

Yasuho dashed back out of the café, and everything said it was the café. Every store's name was Honey Sesame Café. There were no more stop signs, they were Honey Sesame Café signs. She looked on her phone and every notification was for Honey Sesame Café, and every app was named Honey Sesame Café. Even the bills in her wallet were all worth Honey Sesame Café.

Honey sesame café honey sesame, café honey sesame café Honey. Sesame café honey sesame café honey sesame café honey sesame Café, honey sesame café honey sesame café!

She couldn’t try navigating with her phone! The letters on her keyboard had been replaced and now she only had access to hon, ey, sesam, me, c, a, f, and e.

“Paisley Park! Where are you!” she cried out for the only thing that could help her now.

“Hey you! What are you screaming for?” Yasuho was called out to by a man in peaked cap, standing in front of a black and white van which had “HONEY SESAME CAFÉ” printed across the side.

“Oh, are you an officer?! Please! I need help!”

“Officer? Where the hell do you get off on calling me a narc!”

The car the man stood in front of was not a police car as Yasuho had assumed. Rather the letters, clouded by present assault on her mind, were signifying the Sendai Confederation, a gang from the South Side.

“You trying to get me shot you dumb bitch!” the not-police officer ran at Yasuho while deploying a switchblade. She almost died from the fright alone, but was saved by the man falling flat on his face. Yasuho hesitantly opened her flinching eyes to see a hand emerging out of the ground and twisting tight around his ankle.

“Paisley Park!” Yasuho knew it would come to save her. The man gasped for breath as he hand landed with his knife tearing across his own hand, but Yasuho paid no mind as a different car, plainly painted, pulled up and rolled its window down.

“Oh thank goodness Yasuho! I’ve been worried sick about you!” It was her mother, her eyes a little puffed up with tears. “I tried calling you, but a map came up instead and said you were here. It was so weird, did you sign us up for some new location service?”

Paisley Park had slid back over to Yasuho, patting her on the shoulders before crawling back in her phone.

“I’m so sorry dear, please come eat dinner. Were you still trying to meet someone? You can be honest, it was with a boy, wasn’t it? Come on, I wanna hear about it.”

Yasuho rubbed her eyes and - as much as she normally resented this woman - gave a wide smile, gladly climbing in the warm passenger seat.

“I’m alright, mama, everything’s okay,” she grabbed her mom into a hug. “Can you drive me to-” Yasuho couldn’t bring herself to think those three words “- that one café with the honey dango?”

“Sure thing dear, but…” her mom seemed a bit uncomfortable. “Will you tell me what happened in the bathroom there?”

She had on that one voice. That one she talked to her in all the time since her episode. Of course she couldn’t just drop the magic-infused events of the past week on her; She’d think she was crazy.

Maybe she was.

“I just got mad,” she answered, unengaged.

“Yasuho.” She spoke with a rise in her voice, like you do when trying to get a toddler to admit they lied.

“Just drive me to the cafe. Or I’ll get back out and walk.”

The drive devolved back into the normal uncomfortable silence.

“Hey, isn’t that Joshu and his niece?”

Uh oh.

Her mom was right, Tsurugi was skipping along the road still, Joshu in tow.

“They’re out awfully late. She isn’t even 11 yet, is she?”

“Pull over,” Yasuho demanded, observing that the road sign above them still said they were on Honey Sesame Café. Her mom complied, expecting a friendly chat, but instead Yasuho leaped out and went fuming over to Tsurugi.

“You.”

“The other day I went to a record store and bought a compilation of insect noises.”

“Yasuho, what’s going on?” Joshu ignored Tsurugi’s non-sequitur and walked between her and them. “I saw Josuke earlier, something weird is happening around here, and I know all three of you are involved! He tried to beat me up too! Are you guys plotting against me for some reason, huh?” Yasuho shoved passed him, coming closer to Tsurugi.

She was wearing one of the origami frogs in her hair, as a hair clip.

Yasuho had bad luck with those.

“I was confused when I put it on and it was only buzzing, but it turns out I had put it on the Bee-side!”

“What do you want!” Yasuho demanded of the child.

“Ah! I’m so sorry Auntie Yasuho! I just saw a dead bee on the way over here and had to make that pun!”

“Not that you little brat,” Yasuho gritted. “What the hell did you do to me!”

“What I’d do to you? Like what, are you seeing things or something? Maybe that’s just in your own mind.”

Yasuho started shaking.

“Tsurugi, that’s not nice to say.” This discipline surprisingly came from Joshu, who for once in his life seemed genuinely concerned about a situation that didn’t affect him personally.

“You’re spending all this time trying to find out who Josuke is and snooping into our family, do you think maybe you’re just projecting on them? That you just hate yourself so much you gotta leech onto other people? Because you’re not good enough to do anything yourself?”

Yasuho cried, uncertain of if she was hearing real words or not. “Shut up shut up shut up!”

“Uhh, hey calm down! It was just a prank Yasuho!” Tsurugi started back pedaling as Yasuho seemed to have retreated out of the world entirely. “My Stand just made you mix things up with the last thing you saw! I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just meant to go after Josuke!" she explained, foolishly thinking such an answer would make things anybody. "See, you couldn’t see anybody because of my paper doll!” She held up a crude toy of a person with the same blank features which had plagued Yasuho prior. “Just come for a walk with me back to the house and I’ll show you! Josuke can come too! Come on,” she insisted.

Yasuho just buried herself in her knees. She didn’t want to look at anything right now.

“Tsurugi, stop it,” Joshu commanded while Yasuho’s mom came out and put her hand on her daughter’s shoulders. He hadn’t done it in his normal Joshu way, even he recognized what Tsurugi had unintentionally done with the words which seemed alien to her young mouth.

“I’d never want to hurt you! We’re not bad people,” Tsurugi tried to explain, but it was done being about the good guys vs the bad guys.

She didn’t even listen to everybody talking to her at once. It was all so heavy, she didn’t want to do it. Her mind hurt. Why couldn’t today have just been nice?

Yasuho liked flea markets. The endless charm of rows upon rows of collectables nearly forgotten to time, each item its own little vault of secret histories. “Oh if only they could talk!” she’d lament about beaten up board games and faded summer dresses. “What stories could they tell?”

There was a big one in Kotodai Park during the summer months in Morioh, and she was there a final time before it closed for the winter, a few Wednesdays into the second term of her last year in middle school.

Normally she tended to ignore artisans who set up booths there; If it hadn’t gone through 20 years and five owners she didn’t want it. This time, however, she couldn’t help but have her eyes drawn to an impressive display of jewelry occupied by a stout, cloaked man.

“See anything you like, young lady?” the seller spoke from within the shadow of his hood.

“They’re all quite beautiful,” Yasuho remarked. “How much are they?”

“For fine jewels such as these, I offer the greatest discount from retail on the market,” the seller pitched. “You’d look nice in one of these glamorous rings; They start at only 25000 yen.”

“Oh,” Yasuho stepped back from his offering hand, let down. “No thanks then, I’ve only brought 8000 with me.” She started to walk away, and would come to wish she had.

“Well hold on,” the shopkeep called after her. “I apologize if I came on too strong, please allow yourself to bargain.” He reached for a dusty box tucked on a shelf corner behind him, popping it open.

Inside was an ancient looking hair clip, plain in color but with a gorgeous pink rock attached to the back of it. Decoration fanned out around the rock like flower petals, with the shimmering pink gem the pistol. Across the top petal was a Chinese character, “囍.”

“The symbol is called ‘Double Happiness’, it’s two copies of the Chinese word for joy stacked on top of each other, and a very common decoration,” the seller explained. “This is quite an old accessory, and I’ve had a hard time moving it since it looks out-of-date, but that doesn’t mean it’s anything to sleep on. You see, this was originally crafted in the late 1800s for the Empress Dowager Cixi, but it was stolen from her during a war, and eventually came to be owned by a woman in Taiwan. I had purchased it from her for a large sum since I believed it to be quite valuable, but I’ve had it for around 18 months now and have had no luck moving it.”

“Right,” Yasuho nodded along, entranced by the gemstone.

“Since it has been of no value to me, I’d like to offer it to you at a discount. You said you had 8000 yen on you? I’ll give it up for 7800.”

“Oh sir, you shouldn’t,” Yasuho tried to turn down his generosity.

“Please consider, I’d feel guilty if you didn’t take it.”

“So you think it’s cute, don’t you?” Yasuho played with her new accessory, shifting it up and down her coffee brown bangs in the mirror.

“And how much did it cost?” her mother begrudgingly asked.

“7800,” Yasuho bluntly answered. Her mother looked annoyed.

“Come on! That’s a total steal for something like this,” Yasuho pleaded.

“I thought you were gonna go buy yourself a new outfit,” her mother reminded. “Don’t you think 7800 yen is too much on one little accessory?”

“Well it was my money anyways,” she scoffed.

“Didn’t you get most of that as a gift from Miho?” That made Yasuho even more defensive.

“Yeah, well, just because you’re the sort of person who would give gift money and then complain when the person you gave it to doesn’t spend it on what you want doesn’t mean she is.”

“Hey mom!” Yasuho called from the bathroom the next day. She had been presented with an unexpected issue while brushing her hair. “Did you get a new type of shampoo or something?”

“No, why?”

“I uh, I got a lot of dandruff,” Yasuho ran her finger through her scalp, dry-scrubbing it as piles of skin flakes came falling out. “Aw man, this is awful.”

“Have a good day at school, honey,” her mom wished as she went for the door.

“Uh, I will, but I’m gonna be late. I gotta figure out what’s wrong with my hair.”

“Yasuho, don’t you think that’s an overreaction.”

“Nuh huh! You shouldn’t ignore sudden things like this mom, what if it’s the beginning of a deadly allergic reaction! Look I’m just gonna go ask at the pharmacy about it, okay? I have good grades anyways.”

“Aww man, four to six days to take effect?” Yasuho moaned at the desk pharmacist, parroting the description of his recommended medication. “You have anything stronger?”

“That’s quite strong medicine you already have there, young lady,” his bassy voice explained from a fish-like mouth. “Anything stronger would need a doctor’s prescription. I could offer you some medical-grade alkaline water, though. Spray it on your scalp as a mist.” Yasuho begrudgingly accepted his offer.

There went the rest of her money.

Yasuho could feel Friday was gonna be a good day, that mist water Doctor Fishface gave her actually worked!

Yasuho walked into homeroom to find an usual sight. The entire class were standing up in a circle, and standing in the center was Miho! On the desk nearest to her was a big tray of cupcakes, and there were wrapped up boxes everywhere.

No way.

They were singing the one song Yasuho would never want to hear right now.

It was Miho’s birthday! She had been so stuck up about her dandruff that her stupid selfish mind had forgotten about it! And now here she was with nothing to show except that precious hair clip she bought with money Miho gave her!

What was she supposed to do? Maybe she could fork over the hair clip as her gift? No, she had no box for it, let alone wrapping and a card, and it’d be too obvious that it was a last second offering.

With no other options, Yasuho ran to the bathroom. She curled her knees up to her head in a stall.

She didn’t keep track of how long she sat there in anxious panic, but eventually somebody else entered.

“Hey Yasuho?” It was Mai, her voice flavored with concern. “Are you in here?”

Yasuho considered staying silent, but reasoned that that wouldn’t work out in the long run, so she instead answered with a simple “Yeah.”

“Are you alright? You never came to homeroom. Something the matter?”

“I couldn’t go in there,” Yasuho admitted. “I forgot all about Miho’s birthday and didn’t bring her jack squat.”

Though Yasuho couldn’t see it, Mai’s face was suddenly shadowed with confusion. “Birthday? Yasuho it’s only the 19th, Miho’s birthday isn’t for another ten days.”

“But what were you guys celebrating then?”

“Yasuho, what are you talking about? There wasn’t any celebration.”

“B-But I saw everybody’s presents and the cupcakes and you guys were all singing Happy Birthday for crying out loud!”

Mai was stumped. “Yasuho, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Mr.Nakae wouldn’t ever let us do something like that; Are you trying to cover up for something else? Come on, you don’t gotta be embarrassed around me.”

“No!” Yasuho had finally emerged from her bathroom stall. “I know what I saw darn it!”

“Well uh, I can swear that nothing like that happened. Go ask Miho, she’ll tell you her birthday isn’t today too. Are you seeing things or something?”

“I-I-”

“Calm down Yasuho,” Mai shushed her. “It’s alright, was there another fight at home or something? I won’t pry, but I’ll bet your stress is just getting to you. Come on.” She offered a kind hand out to Yasuho, which she took with her left arm while keeping her phone tight in another.

As she walked back out into school, her phone hand buzzed ever so subtly. She stealthily checked to see a text message from Miho.

“Wow, ungrateful much? Be lucky Mai was willing to cover for you you sad sack. Don’t bother coming to my party, moron.”

Chapter Text

The weekend let Yasuho escape from Mai and Miho, blissfully choosing to ignore their texts. The original bitchy one Miho sent was gone, she must’ve deleted it. Or maybe Mai was right, and Yasuho was hallucinating. But her favorite part of the week was coming now. Dad was coming to visit, this time they were going to the aquarium! Yasuho had gathered up the cutest sky blue outfit to wear, and she really wanted to show him her new -

Where was the hair clip?

Not on her desk, or safe on the top shelf of her closet. She looked over every inch of floor and it was nowhere to be found.

“Mom! Have you seen my hair clip?” she asked down the stairs, but was met with no answer as her mother was on the phone. She hopped down the stairs and scurried around like a rat trying to find the flower beret.

“Mom! I’m serious! I left it right by my bed last night and now it’s gone!”

“Not so loud Yasuho,” her mother waved her off as she penned down something from the other end of the phone call.

“Are you even listening to me! My hair clip is gone! It’s already 9 and dad’s gonna be here and I’m not gonna have it even after I’ve been waiting all this time to tell him about it!” Yasuho was starting to get red in the face from getting so worked up.

“Oh, calm down honey, I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. We can look together. Just a minute,” she went back to her phone call, turning away from Yasuho.

Yasuho groaned in agitation.

“Don’t you have any other ones you can wear?”

“Why would you say that!” Yasuho shouted back. “I finally get one thing I really like and you just have to dump on it all the time!” A dark realization came to Yasuho. “You hid it, didn’t you!”

“What are you talking about Yasuho?”

“All you ever do is badmouth dad! You’re trying to ruin my day off with him!”

Yasuho’s mother was highly taken aback by this. “How could you say something like that!”

“I bet if I go outside and root through the garbage I’d find it!”

“Just go look in the bathroom again, I’d bet that you’ll find it behind the toilet or something.” Yasuho’s mom rolled her eyes, her daughter was still fuming but obliged with her request.

Yasuho tore her entire room apart again, and still no sign of the clip. She peered out at the garbage cans from her window, fearing that that’s where it lay.

She grounded again and pounded her fist against her wall, a little too hard. The wall shook and a small shelf nailed to her wall fell straight off and crashed on her head, the knick-knacks it held out forming a fairy circle around her as she collapsed to the ground.

“Yasuho? Yasuho?” She was woken back up by the most lovely voice in the world.

“Dad!” She jumped on him and hugged him in a giant blanket of relief and disappointment. “Oh I’m so sorry I’m not ready, but I’ve lost something I really wanted to show you!”

“You mean this?” he chuckled and offered her the hair clip from his palm. “I found it on the ground outside, it’s very cute.” Yasuho smiled and took it from him.

Or she tried to.

She couldn’t touch it, she tried and tried and tried but her hand just phased through it.

She couldn’t touch dad either, even when she hugged him it felt like empty air, his warm embrace was lost.

“Dad? What’s going on?” she asked in confusion.

“Don’t worry honey, you just hit your head. An ambulance for you is on the way. I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel our trip to the aquarium though.”

“Aw man," Yasuho pouted, her head still banging from her injury. “Well, I don’t care, I’m just glad I got to see you at all!” She put on a beaming smile. “We can always go next wee-” Yasuho screamed as her head suddenly felt like a firecracker was set off inside of it.

“Right, about that,” Yasuho’s dad’s face turned grim. “There not going to be a ‘next week’, Yasuho.”

“Huh? Why not?” Yasuho asked as she was still rocking back and forth trying to distract herself from that banging banging pounding shooting headache.

“Over at my new home, I got a girlfriend, and we’re having a baby together! I need to be by her side every weekend now, so I can’t come see you.”

“Wha- Wha-” Yasuho started hyperventilating. The headache was starting to become too much, it was like her head was getting squeezed through a funnel. “Dad it doesn’t have to be like that! I-I’ll come see you! I’ll even help with the baby! I’ve always wanted a little sibling!” she pleaded.

“Calm down girl, can’t you understand that I need my own life? All you ever do is leech off of other people.”

Yasuho threw up a little, this wasn’t right this wasn’t right this wasn’t right this wasn’t right.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Yasuho choked out, as she grabbed it from the ground, where it had fallen off the shelf.

“What’s wrong? Gotta go hide from your selfish decisions again?” her father asked, he was flickering in and out of sight, his form deteriorating each time he came back into view.

She looked at her tear-swollen eyes in the mirror. She hated her mom and now she hated her dad and most of all she hated her, she was clearly a mistake.

She held it. Yasuho’s dad got her it for her 12th birthday. It was a pocket knife.

She always told herself that no matter how bad life got, she was a strong person, because she knew she had another option. Anytime she wanted, she could give up and end it all. Two little slashes, that's all it would take. But she didn’t do it, she never did it, so she must’ve been a strong person.

This time she was out of strength.

It slid down the length of her wrist, Yasuho biting her lips to suppress her screams as the vile in her throat and the heartache in her head got overridden by searing pain. She scowled at her own reflection, busting apart the mirror with the knife’s handle while its blade busted apart her heart.

“Yasuho? I went out and looked for you. I really didn’t see it anywhere,” Yasuho’s mother had walked back inside the apartment. “Yasuho?”

She screamed when she saw her slumped over the bathroom sink. Its porcelain was stained red, flowing from her wrists.

She rushed back downstairs to call an ambulance, leaving Yasuho entirely out of sight. Nobody to watch her, nobody to see the crawling through her hair, or hear the cicada-esque crying coming from her scalp.

That “hair clip” had been with her the whole time. It crawled back out of the hole it drilled in her skin and restricted its spider-esque legs back into itself, leaving only the padded feet fanning out from a crystalline torso. Nobody would ever tell that it was anything but a normal girly hair decoration.

“Watch her until I get back, will you hon?”

Yasuho was left in the presence of a medical intern, who sardonically snapped his fingers waiting for his mother to get back with her scan results.

“So much needless bustle here,” he groaned to himself. “When I get my degree, I think I outta just go be a surgeon on a boat. Same cast of people everyday, with only the whims of the sea to disturb things.”

He was broken out of his daydream by a strange noise. It sounded much like a cicada, but it wasn’t the season for them.

He looked around for the source of the buzzing, and confusingly found it right on top of that girl’s head.

“What the hell!?” he shouted at the sight of an entirely unfamiliar insect lying before him. It was far larger than any house fly, and was the exact colors as that hair clip the girl had come in wearing. In fact, the clip was stuck to its body, hanging off the underside of its center just like its beady head, from which emerged a giant spiked tongue, hoisted up by 5 spindly legs emerging from the “flower petals” of the clip.

“That thing! It’s trying to attack her!” This man was always an impulse thinker, so he didn’t hesitate on his next move.

“Killer Queen!”

Yoshikage Kira’s Stand appeared beside him, a muscular metallic blue warrior with the head of a scared cat. It shot a bubble at the creature from one of its fingerless-gloved hands, enveloping it and floating it away from the girl’s head. Yoshikage watched with morbid fascination as the thing squirmed inside of the bubble.

“God! What a monster! How could something like this exist in Morioh?” He had seen enough to know he wasn’t content with this thing existing.

“Detonate.”

Killer Queen clenched its fist and pressed its thumb against an imaginary button, triggering a small explosion from the bubble, which evaporated the whole insectoid being; Just in time too, as the girl stirred awake not long after.

“Doctor?” she meekly asked.

“Oh no, I’m just a student intern here. Your doctor is my mother, she’ll be back in a minute.” He offered a friendly salute. “My name is Yoshikage Kira, and I’m afraid I seemed to have accidentally stepped on that flower pin you came on with your hair in.”

Yasuho was upset by this, but was too numb to show it.

“I’ll gladly pay for a replacement, but just so you know, it wasn’t a real crystal. Just a cheap paste rock.”

Yoshikage exited the room on cue as his mother filled the room with her gentle aura.

“Hi sweetheart. It’s okay now, you’re safe here,” she smiled and put her hand around Yasuho’s. She waved around a printed out projection of Yasuho’s brain. “I ordered a scan of that injury on your head too, on a hunch. It seemed normal, but there's a wee little spot on your scalp that's cut, and it reaches all the way down into your skull. I've never seen anything like it, so I’d like to keep you on observation for at least the long weekend.”

Yasuho nodded and curled up in her dreary hospital blankets.

“It’s okay darling. There’s a lot to be learned for you. I think you’re somebody who can understand. There’s not a single thing on this Earth worth overlooking. If you open yourself up to the world, then eventually what’s important to you will reveal itself…”

“Yasuho?” She finally snapped out of her trance when Josuke called to her. “Hey, I’m glad I finally got to you! You seemed really freaked out around your mom and Joshu, so I said we were going on our date and got them off your back.”

“JoJo, I get it now," she said in a blind frenzy. "Do you ever wonder why I pulled you up?”

“Well, no,” Josuke answered honestly. “I’m just glad you did,” he smiled.

“It’s because I knew you before.”

“You what?” How had this never been mentioned?

“I just remembered, well, I didn’t really know him, but I met Yoshikage Kira before. When I was 15, I had some kind of awful episode, and I hallucinated all my friends hating me, and my dad saying he was leaving me to have a new family, and I-” she started tearing up, choking over her words on what she had tried to not mention for years. “I slashed my wrists, I just couldn’t take it. I should’ve died, I’m sure, left to drown in a pool of my own blood, but I got taken to the hospital, and Holy Joestar saved me!”

Josuke stood in shock at this story. “Yasuho…”

“I forgot all about that, hell I wanted to forget about it, but there’s no doubt, Holy Joestar was my doctor! And Yoshikage was there too, he broke a hair clip I bought…” Yasuho was silent for a second.

“What’s wrong?”

“Those things, I was seeing such awful things, and my head would hurt so bad, but it never happened before or after. It started when I bought some hair clip at a flea market, and then Yoshikage Kira said he accidentally broke it. I didn’t know about all that back then but, do you think that could’ve been a Stand ability? Just like Tsurugi Higashikata, that’s what reminded me of all that. Even back then, somebody was out there attacking people like that!”

She turned her head back around. “Come on JoJo, we have to go back to that bunker, it’s by the Lone Pine, near where the Wall Eyes emerged. That kid Tsurugi brought me there, and everything’s definitely connecting to that place! Holy told me to never overlook anything, and I think I took that to heart.”

“Yasuho,” Josuke suddenly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m glad that Yoshikage is in me. If my existence is like this, then I’ll gladly be half of that person who helped you. We share a goal now, right? We both wanna help Holy now.”

Yasuho nodded. “And the Higashikatas have our answers!”

“I’ve decided,” Josuke took the charge in marching back to the Higashikata Estate, his resolve spotlighted by the glow of the midnight city, “I’ve had enough playing around. The time for us to confront Norisuke is now. I don’t want you to get hurt if he has some kind of powerful Stand, so you have to stay in that bunker until I know it’s safe.”

“No! I don’t wanna hide anymore!” Yasuho insisted.

Josuke shook his head. “I’m not saying to ‘hide’, that’s our strategy. Three times now I’ve been caught in a bind, but you were to back me up. If we all get caught in one attack, it’s all over, but if you let me and Kei take the first strike then our victory is guaranteed.”

Kei Kira had gone radio silent, much to the couple’s concern, but they decided to proceed without her for the time being. While Josuke prepared to find Norisuke and question him in private, Yasuho had snuck back into the bunker, hoping Tsurugi hadn’t been waiting for her. It seemed empty, allowing her the opportunity to explore the structure further.

It seemed to extend to the farthest edge of 3121 Hill, but the entire handful of small rooms seemed clustered towards the back end.

Yasuho creeped into one of the rooms which seemed fully set up as a living space, a pitcher of water left on a tray by the bedside. There was even a closet. A closet with something inside.

“Is that, one of Yoshikage Kira’s sailing suits?”

Yasuho was not wrong, there was a green and red-striped one of Yoshikage’s, or now Josuke’s, shirts hanging up in the room.

“Before Tsurugi said that Josuke was living down here,” she recalled. “Was Yoshikage Kira down here? There’s no way, surely Kei would’ve known about that, but then why else would somebody be keeping his clothes in here? Maybe it’s just a coincidence?”

In the next room over, which was some kind of odd makeshift lab, a shadowed figure had their ear pressed against the wall, listening in on Yasuho’s thoughts.

The figure widened their eyes and plunged their thumbs into their lower eyelids, yelping in the slightest bit of discomfort as they ripped a plastic sheet from their palpebra.

“Who’s there?” Yasuho called out, frightened at the noise.

Without any other warning, a person came dashing into the room, leaping on top of Yasuho and putting her in a choke hold.

They had long, flowing locks of magenta hair, and were dressed in a hot pink thorn-adorned bodysuit. Covering it was a puffy pair of pocketed pants, and two layers of sleeveless shirts, which all followed a pale sand color scheme.

The attacker shoved their anomalously produced plastic wrap over Yasuho’s mouth, then went for the pitcher of water and poured it over the suffocating sheet, waterboarding her before throwing her to the floor.

“Your Stand!” they commanded. “Show it at once!”

Yasuho coughed as Paisley Park appeared behind her on its own whim.

“Fascinating.” The strange person gave an owl’s glare as he looked it up and down. “Not a threat, but seems like it could have a lot of potential. Alas, it is neither Soft nor Wet, so it’s not what I’m looking for.” As abruptly as they had appeared this mystery person started nonchalantly walking away.

“What!?” was all Yasuho could gather to scream after them, in a newly renewed panic.

“Hm?” They pretentiously whipped their dark pink hair behind their back. “How rude of me to not introduce myself. My name is Yotsuyu Yagiyama, and I am an architect. I am 28 years young, and my home address and affiliation? Those are both secrets, but we’ve been watching you for a while now. As a matter of fact, it was I who instructed Tsurugi Higashikata to lure you to your near-doom.”

“Who the heck are you?” Yasuho shouted as she came into the hallway to confront him.

“Are you deaf or something? I just introduced myself.” They tsked at Yasuho. “Well you aren’t a danger to me so I’ll leave you be, but if you value your skin I’d suggest skipping town and getting out of dodge.” With that warning they ran away into the maze of the bunker, being gone by the time Yasuho caught up to them, leaving her with a null answer to all 50 of her questions.

Chapter Text

Things were quiet at 3121 Hill. Joshu pouted around his garage cot, hoping Yasuho would eventually text him back. Hato and Daiya were both sound asleep, while Mitsuba took a chance to attend to some private matters while her husband was still away on business.

None of the four of them realised, however, that the household was lacking in both its eldest and youngest.

Josuke’s feet walked softly across the lush grass in the Higashikatas’ orchard. Before now, he had never before taken a moment to consider just how expansive the land was. The orchard went on as far as the eye could see, and probably twice past that, blotting the horizon line with trees bearing succulent, ripe fruit.

He could hear another pair of footsteps coming towards his.

“Have you come to admire the orchard, JoJo?”

Norisuke Higashikata had decided to come to him first, evidently. He stood slightly uphill from Josuke, looking down at him with a weary face while his torso was bisected by the shadow of a tree branch. 

"Whaddya think? These fruits are real beauties, aren't they?" He gently plucked a pear from the branch above him and bit into its juicy flesh. "This Orchard is my family's pride and joy, our very being! It is our livelihood after all." He looked up to the sky. "When the first man to have my name won money from the horse race in America, he used it to start shipping the fruit from our ancestral land all across the world. He and his company’s employees would return from overseas with an exchange. In exchange for that fruit of ours he received not just more money, but exotic fruits from overseas, which he began cultivating and selling in places that had never seen such specimens before. A ‘fruit trade route’ may sound like a flippant thing, but overnight his empire exploded, and we see the effects of it to this day. All we have to be thankful for stems from this land."

Josuke cast his head towards the ground, staying quiet as his body emanated a silver glow out into the night. Soft & Wet emerged from the smoke billowing out of him, floating over and reaching for the land’s king.

“Norisuke,” Josuke said, crossing the point of no return, “I need you to show me your Stand; right this instant.”

Norisuke’s face instantly became worried and confused, as he stumbled downhill. “Hold up now! What’s this all of the sudden?!”

“Don’t try to feign ignorance, please.” Josuke and his Stand continued walking towards him, progressively backing him as they walked through a stony slice of shoreline that had been filled with an arrangement of flowers in huge, ornate pots. “When I came to this house, Daiya told me about how she got a Stand ability because of the land here, and now, Yasuho and I have been targeted by your grandchild.

“Tsurugi? How is she ‘targeting’ anyone?!”

“This place is surrounded by the Wall Eyes, and on the other end of the property is the spot where I was found! Next to me was Yoshikage Kira - whose ancestor was from the Higashikata Family - and turned up dead on your land! Everything connects back to your family, Norisuke!”

Norisuke grimaced. “Listen to me, Josuke. The things you’re bringing up are very big picture concepts. If you want help understanding the true nature of your situation, that’s fine and dandy, but coming out here and trying to get me to duel you with my Stand… You may as well have moseyed over here and asked me to flash you my asshole!”

Josuke held firm, barking “Don’t make quips! I’m putting you on the spot because you’re the one who I find suspicious!”

Norisuke went aghast, air pouring out of his throat in shock. “Suspicious of what?”

“For one thing, murdering Yoshikage Kira,” Josuke fired the accusation point blank, with his eyes narrowing.

Norisuke’s breathing grew frantic. “You keep bringing him up, Kira… Josuke, am I right in feeling like you’ve become enlightened to your origins? Have I been correct in assuming you’re a person who underwent an equivalent exchange with that man?”

The two were stepping around in a circle as they talked, Josuke keeping Soft & Wet’s finger pointed like a rifle.

“And yet, you really have no memories of it?”

Hesitantly, Josuke nodded.

Norisuke sighed, holding his temple in agitation. “The same thing happened to me, once. Not in a biological way, but a spiritual one. For a very, very long time, the Higashikata Family has been led by a man who inevitably conceives a first born son as an heir. It doesn’t matter how many children there are total, or the circumstances of their births; there’s always a first born son of a first born son. As you can imagine, I was the first born son of my generation.”

“ He’s spilling, but I can’t tell where he’s going with this, ” Josuke thought. “ What exactly is Norisuke Higashikata going to fess up to? ”

“Whenever a child meeting that description nears the age of puberty they contract an inexplicable syndrome. Their bodies weaken and their minds falter, until their souls are ripped from their being and their bodies turn into stone. For centuries, when this happens, they’re taken into the ground in Morioh by their mothers, who have the affliction passed onto them, and die under the earth. On the other hand, as its been recorded, the same syndrome can appear in the women of the family in their middle age. That’s the fate which has befallen Yoshikage Kira’s mother. The reason I’m explaining all of this to you, Josuke, is to explain why I needed Kira!” His voice suddenly grew from sorrowful to exasperated. “He started leaving me messages, and told me he had a cure to the Rock Syndrome! He made me construct a bunker for him on this property, and promised me he could save both Tsurugi and Holy Joestar! Then he fell off the face of the Earth, and two years later he turns up dead! I want you to believe me: I didn’t kill Yoshikage Kira because his death was the worst thing to happen to me in fifteen years!”

The wind turned to static in Josuke’s ears. Too many things were beaten into his mind at once: The peril of the Rock Syndrome, the alleged cure found by Yoshikage Kira, Norisuke Higashikata’s innocence, or lack thereof. “ What happened fifteen years ago, then? ” 

“If you want some sort of confession out of me, I’ll tell you the truth that the reason I showed up to save you from prison and provide for you is because I figured you must have been Kira’s ally. What sort of person that would be, I have no idea, but my assumption is that you and Kira were working together on the cure to the Rock Syndrome, but did something that caused you to be hunted by an outside enemy.”

“ An… outside enemy? ”

“For a short while I thought you were faking having amnesia to escape from your enemies, but it seems in the end you were genuine.” Norisuke placed his hand over his heart. “Nonetheless, I want to believe that your soul can still find the cure Yoshikage Kira promised me! I’ve been trying to care for you like you’re my own son, and I won’t go back on that, no matter what!”

Norisuke trembled, dashing forward and grabbing Josuke in a constricting bear hug. Josuke felt his two hands press against his back.

And then, another one around his ankle.

Josuke nearly jumped out of his own skin, wiggling out of Norisuke’s clutch and panning his eyes down to scan across the cracked, rocky ground and hunt for some spectre.

He saw nothing but a span of stones.

Josuke grit his teeth, feeling a fool. “Norisuke! What just touched me?”

Rather than gloating or sinister, Norisuke Higashikata looked confused. Straight up startled, as a matter of fact.

“Something just grabbed my foot!” Josuke explained.

Norisuke scratched the back of his head, seeming to look at the dirt for a grabbing hand and come up empty, just as Josuke had.

“You said something about Tsurugi, right? If you just had something small jump on you, that’s probably her Stand. It appears by moving bits of origami.”

Josuke shook his head. “No, I’m quite certain it was a hand, and an adult one at that.” Josuke started stepping away from the scene, “It didn’t even feel like a Stand, it was another person here with us!” Already getting paranoid, he was frightened again when he walked straight back into something.

It was one of the flower pots, which Josuke swore he had been nowhere near so close to. Indeed, the formerly purposeful ring of flower pots had somehow been set askew, now zigzagging across from each other.

Not only had they been moved, they were moving .

Josuke could feel the weight ceramic being slowly pressed against his skin by some invisible pull.

The ones behind Norisuke were coming in the opposite direction. From all angles, the pots were trembling straight towards Josuke.

Inside the Higashikatas’ strange bunker, Yasuho stammered about, hypervigilant of even the dirt surrounding the structure. She felt as though she should be rushing to call Josuke, but the way she had just been beaten up was so surreal so could hardly believe it was real, in spite of - or perhaps because - of all the other things which had happened lately. She only barely stopped short of screaming her lungs out when she saw someone else walking towards her through the bunker again, but was - in the loosest possible sense of the word - relieved to find that it was Tsurugi, in lieu of another uncanny mystery assailant.

“Hey, kid!” Yasuho shouted, simultaneously worried for Tsurugi’s safety but also still afraid to approach her. “We have to get out of this place, somebody dangerous broke in!”

Tsurugi just casually chuckled. “Oh, do you mean Tsuyu?”

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t worry Auntie Yasuho, they’re my friend,” Tsurugi assured, speaking almost in a bragging manner. “They must be out talking to Josuke; They told me to bring him out here at night,” she idly explained while having a seat on the floor and playing with a piece of paper, folding the brown sheet into the shape of a stout mushroom. “It’s a good thing I think, that all three of us aren’t down here at once. It might get crowded, there’s not much room !”

Yasuho’s pupils shrunk in, a further panic taking over her face as she screamed “Tsurugi what is wrong with you?!”

“Ah, I’m real sorry!” She half-heartedly bowed on the floor. “I just can’t help it when I get the chance to make a good pun.”

“Not that you idiot!” Yasuho growled. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that it’s not a good idea to talk to strangers?”

“Hey, Tsuyu’s my friend!” Tsurugi insisted, adding “They’re friends with my dad, too.”

Before Yasuho could form the words to grill her further, she was startled by a buzzing coming from the table behind her. 

“Oh, that’s them now!” Tsurugi happily explained, as she trotted around Yasuho to a table with a drawer, which she pulled open to reveal a cheap cell phone ringing on mute.

As Tsurugi answered it, Yasuho felt something spark out of the sickness that had infested her stomach. Her arm reached out without her realising it - like it had been jolted by an electric charge - and she watched a blue glow fly out of her fingers and rush into the phone.

“ That’s… my Stand .” Yasuho could feel every flick of a transistor in her soul, as the words spoken into the phone formed crystal clear in her ears.

“Are you there, Tsurugi?” It was certainly the same voice as the person who had assaulted Yasuho, however with the high pretension toned down into something that felt more caring, albeit still with an air of superiority.

“Double yes, Tsuyu!”

“Good, good. You did an excellent job, kiddo. Because of you, I’m dealing with Josuke right now. Things are a little more complicated than I expected, because your grandfather has shown up here too.”

“Grandpa? He doesn’t know I’ve been out here,” Tsurugi said back into the phone, her voice trembling slightly.

“Of course not, Tsurugi. It’s for sure not your fault. No need to worry though, my power won’t be able to hurt him. Right now, Josuke alone is ‘the one who gravity loves.’ We’ll just have to have a little talk with grandpa once I’m done.”

Yasuho felt a knife twisting into her heart, as her breathing became shallow. “ He’ll be okay, Yasuho. He’s strong and smart, Yasuho. Don’t panic, Yasuho. Don’t panic, Yasuho.”

“Josuke!”

She panicked.

She felt light headed as she suddenly became aware of a second sight entering her mind, like she had a second set of eyes slipping in a feed to her brain. This second vision showed her the calculated smile of the mystery enemy, Yotsuyu Yagiyama.

Yotsuyu looked down at the phone, face dropping in a way that was only barely visible as they noticed its screen corrupted by a neon blue glow, too intense and otherworldly for its standard display. 

“Tsurugi,” they said, “is Yasuho Hirose down there with you?”

Yasuho’s blood ran cold. Somehow she gathered the will to move herself and slap the burner phone out of Tsurugi’s hands, picking it up herself after it smacked the ground.

“Tsurugi? Tsurugi? Are you still on?” Yotsuyu asked, Paisley Park’s vision showing Yasuho how neither their voice nor face betrayed any sort of real worry. In fact, Yasuho could see them smiling. “Yasuho, darling, is that you?” they asked, words rising gleefully. 

Yasuho’s voice felt stolen from her.

“Before, I made sweet Tsurugi bring you out here so I could see if you were a danger to me.” Yotsuyu chortled. “You’re not. You can leave. It’s highly advisable, as a matter of fact.”

Yasuho stayed quiet, spitefully hanging up the phone.

She took a deep breath, and tried to run.

“Oh no you don’t!” Tsurugi called after her as she tried to climb back out of the bunker hatch. “If you go mess with Tsuyu, I’ll put my Paper Kingdom back on you. Just stay down here with me, and you’ll be fine!”

The terrible sights that Tsurugi’s Stand made her mentally crawl through popped through her head, kicking out Paisley Park’s phone feed along with her guile. 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long until Tsuyu is done!”

While Yasuho panicked, her Stand took action, still inside her cellphone. It scrolled through her contacts until it found the most recent one, climbing into the number and traversing through to the phone it would call.

Soft & Wet fully appeared floating in front of Josuke, proceeding to punch apart the flower pot that was treading against his skin. It burst into a pile of terracotta shards, which sat on the ground for only a split second before they started to move straight back towards Josuke.

His eyes scanned around him, watching the pots close in. They rolled right around Norisuke’s body, their intent obviously to close in only on Josuke.

“ If breaking them can’t stop them, I have to take out the source of the attack ,” Josuke thought. “ Norisuke, I’m sorry things are turning out like this .”

“ORA ORA ARA ORA!”

Soft & Wet fired a barrage of punches at Norisuke, moving so fast each strike was like machine gun fire. However, Josuke quickly came to realise they were being blocked, each hit’s power being spread across some sort of sturdy shield instead of ever touching their target.

It was a fanning shield of magenta and royal purple, a tapered rectangle floating in midair. Despite how sturdy it was against Josuke’s astral volleys, its structure did not look solid and instead appeared to made out of several dozen small pieces that had been cut out with a jigsaw and then reassembled like a puzzle of solid colour.

Through the translucent sheen of his barrier, Norisuke stared at Josuke with wide, hurt eyes. “Josuke,” he held his heart to his chest. “What in the world do you think you’re doing, boy?”

“Defending myself!” Josuke shouted, as Soft & Wet tried to smash more of the pots apart. It spun some of their crumbling pieces into bubbles, but their jagged edges would only tear the bubbles apart as they continued to be dragged towards Josuke by an invisible source of orbit.

“Do you seriously think this is my power? Nonsense! I’ve never seen an ability like this one before in my life!” Norisuke insisted.

“Is that right? Then prove it!” Josuke challenged, while he wrapped a bubble around one of his hands and had Soft & Wet lift it up, levitating him a short bit off the ground. To his dismay, he found this only made the flower pot pieces fly up after him. 

“Why I certainly will, JoJo, but I’ll need you to stop squirming around so much.”

Josuke flung himself to the ground on the other side of Norisuke, cushioning his fall with Soft & Wet. “And why in the world would I do that?”

Norisuke shook his head, expression emboldened. “You’re disturbing the traces. Just stay still for a second, and we can unearth them.”

Josuke bit his lip. “...Traces?”

“When we met, I told you there’s no such thing as a free lunch, and I was quite right to say that. Some people say that’s an illusion of capitalism, but deep down it’s really the nature of our supernatural world. No matter what you do, or how you think you’ve gotten away with it, there will be some stain of it left behind on this Earth. That’s the nature of the ability the land here in Morioh has blessed me with, digging up those traces and revealing their maker!”

Norisuke’s arm shimmered a deep violet, puzzle pieces shaping out of light and flying out of his sleeve. Most of them flew towards Josuke, shooting down towards his leg, while a few of them stuck by Norisuke’s side, slowly building themselves up into a figure standing beside him, posing courteously. Almost its whole broad body was made of those little jigsaw pieces, the only exceptions coming when the form rose up to the shoulders, where it donned a capelet made of fuzzy brown fabric. A pale green head barely phased into view, covered almost entirely in a horned helmet constructed out of the pieces also, with holes cut out for its ice blue compound eyes.

“King Nothing!”

Chapter Text

Soft & Wet’s blindly fast fists were being pushed to their limits as they zipped up and down around Josuke, trying to pummel the shards of terracotta away from being buried into his skin by the orbit made to emanate from his core. With each strike, it left behind a cluster of bubbles hanging off Josuke like bunches of grapes. The pottery shards became suspended inside them, as they rolled over and started to coalesce into a huge sphere made of the solid materials.

“Soft & Wet!” Josuke screamed, putting all of his might into his Stand, which shivered in place. “Send that bubble into the Earth!”

The bubble of pots slammed against the dirt and started Spinning around, breaking apart the dirt as its surface threatened to break apart. Josuke hacked and coughed up blood as the bubble shook back and forth, slowly burrowing into the ground while the force of its movement re-compacted the dirt above it. Josuke finally let up for a second, falling to his knees and catching his breath as his surroundings finally remained still, the remains of the flower pots completely buried out of sight.

He panted, straining to start speaking again as he looked at Norisuke - king of the land he stood on - and the spectral court jester who now accompanied him. “My Stand’s power is to make bubbles which can trap and move anything…” he allowed himself to explain. “Most of the time it’s close to impossible for something break them from inside, but the power that’s stuck to me right now was pulling so strongly I could barely keep up with it.”

“I think you’ree alright now. For now, at least.” Norisuke replied, his voice fatherly with a mixture of authority and compassion. “Now keep still, the reconstruction is nearly done.”

The puzzle pieces swirling in the air around Josuke’s leg had formed into an arm which gripped him by the ankle. They kept assembling into a full body, the scatters of purple and magenta piecing together into a 3D construct of a spindly person in tight clothes covered in thorns. After a few seconds of bated breaths they topped it off with a sharp, arrogant face staring daggers up towards Josuke.

Josuke’s suspicions of the power belonging to Hato or Mitsuba - the two remaining members of the household whose Stands he had yet to encounter - were put to rest, as his attacker was a stranger to him.

“What the-?!” Norisuke yelped, startled by his own tracing of the past. “There’s no way!” he bellowed; Evidently, he did recognize this person.

“Norisuke, what’s the matter?”

“That’s…” Norisuke squinted at the puzzle-pieced together person, giving one last try of convincing himself otherwise. “I know who this is!”

“You do?!” Josuke nearly started shaking him, desperate for answers.

“Yes, not very well, but,” he coughed to clear his throat, beginning to explain. “That’s Yotsuyu Yagiyama. When my eldest son Jobin went to university, they were roommates. Yaigyama was studying to become an architect and was considered a prodigy in the field, and years later became a wealthy socialite. When I wanted our house to be renovated a couple years ago, I hired Yagiyama to do the design.”

“You’re telling me this person is a friend of your family?” Such a revelation was throwing a wrench into Josuke’s already shaky capacity to be trusting of the Higashikatas.

“I guess you could say that in general, but myself, I’ve only barely ever spoken to them. I thought our relationship was just a normal customer and client, I never imagined Yagiyama would turn out to have some part in this big kit and kaboodle!” Norisuke threw up his hands then rubbed his temple. “I didn’t even know they were a Stand user! Them suddenly showing up on my land in the middle of the night to attack my ward, it’s absurd! But the visions of my King Nothing are infallible, the person who’s after you is Yotsuyu Yagiyayma!”

Norisuke’s Stand chirped with the sound of shifting cardboard, as the replica of Yotsuyu released Josuke from its grasp and stood straight up.

“I– I don’t understand this.” Norisuke shook his head. “I’m trying to get King Nothing to track where Yotsuyu went, but the scent is suddenly giving out. They’re standing right here one second, and then suddenly the ‘scent’ they left vanishes! It’s like the Earth suddenly swallowed them whole!”

“You speak so harshly.”

The two of them both felt hairs raise on the back of their neck. They whipped around, suddenly being face to face with the live version of the same arrogant smirk captured by King Nothing. They stood slightly strained, something large swung over their shoulders.

“Salutations! I’ve come with a gift,” Yotsuyu announced, before tossing what they had been carrying straight to the ground: It was another, smaller person, who was heavily bruised and bloodied. It took a second for Josuke to realise - to his horror - it was Kei Kira, seemingly struggling to remain conscious. “Seems she came snooping around here too.”

“Yotsuyu!” Norisuke shouted. “What in the Hell is this about? Why are you on my land?!”

“It’s nothing short of a pleasure to meet you again, sir. I was not expecting you to get involved in this. I have the upmost admiration for you - your wealth, and,” Yotsuyu ran their hand across the grass, “your land. What I want is to be at the top of that all; I mean you know harm, simply return home and we’ll catch up over brunch tomorrow.”

“Like Hell! You’re trying to kill my boy, and my housekeeper to boot? What is wrong with you?”

Yotsuyu shook their head, their hair waving about in the air. “I’m not the one deceiving you, sir! My postulation is that these two are conniving together, and their mutual ally is Yasuho Hirose, who is inside that bunker over there.” Yotsuyu pointing over towards the landmark Lone Pine Tree. “Thankfully, sweet Tsurugi is keeping an eye on her?”

“T-Tsurugi?” Norisuke grew moree enrgaed by the second. “What does my grandchild have to do with this madness?”

“Please believe me, I only want what’s best for you! The Higashikata Family are the ones who will be part of my perfection, I’m your real ally!” Yotsuyu dropped their charitable grin and turned their eyes towards Josuke, scowling. “Now you… You scumbag!” They spat at him. “Disgracing this place with the presence of a walking corpse. You died at the Wall Eyes, and yet you’re here because that emo faker Kira gave his life for you? Pathetic!” They started running towards Josuke, their uncanny stilt-like stride cut short by the loud ring of a gunshot fired from beneath water.

“Soft & Wet!” Josuke had gotten his Stand to clump together some sharp pebbles into a bubble, which fired straight at Yotsuyu’s torso. The second it hit its target, Josuke began running, his Stand picking up Kei while he waved Norisuke to come with him.

They sprinted towards the bunker and made it halfway before Josuke’s legs suddenly faltered and he stopped in his place, screaming.

“I just killed them!” he said, trembling. He looked up into Norisuke’s eyes. “It was to protect everybody here, but I shot Yagiyama through the heart.”

Norisuke’s face was flushed, his eyes staring straight through Josuke into things unseen. “How is this happening?”

“Please, forgive me.” Josuke bowed, feeling the amount of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead as he held his hat to keep it on straight. “If you really are innocent in all of this, then I apologise for bringing trouble to your family.”

“Josuke,” the older man called out, his voice as if he were speaking towards the high court of all humanity, “The thing I want the most is for my family to help people; do good by our community. That’s all I’m trying to do here.” He sat on the ground, resting his head in his hands. “In spite of that, my family always ends up taking from someone else. Not money or opportunity, but life! This is all my fault, for giving you the name ‘Higashikata’!”

“Looking from the outside, I never imagined finding you out to be such a pitiful man.”

A strong static ring filled the ears of both of them. The shadows around them shifted as a figure rose forth, spewing like a fountain from the Earth. Yotsuyu Yagiyama’s beady eyes stared at them, a little hole punched straight through their torso. No blood, no gore, just a little cavity carved through where their heart should’ve been, visible and beating.

“All life owes itself to the Earth, who will give blessings to those who deserve it. You claimed to have killed me, and yet I still here still; That is proof that I am a blessed one, somebody who can defy gravity. And likewise the both of you are fraudsters. You seem blessed with fortune, but it’s all stolen valor.”

Josuke was completely at a loss over what he was seeing and hearing - a person who just had a hole blown through their heart and barely seems bothered - but wasted no time sending Soft & Wet’s fists flurrying towards them once again.

Yotsuyu ducked, gliding effortlessly across the grass and around Josuke, letting their fingers drag a shimmering emerald light across Josuke’s wrist.

“No matter what you’ve done since, or how ever you think you’ve covered up, what you did has stained this wondrous Earth, and the time you’ve had to outrun it ends here. That’s the power the land here in Morioh has blessed me with, forcing you to suffocate under the gravity you’ve so foolishly tried to defy.” Yotsuyu stood tall, a concert of shuffling suddenly sounding from every direction. “‘Gravity’ is a metaphor; that we all orbit Fate and will return to its center.”

“Josuke, look out!” Norisuke looked ready to run over and tackle Yotsuyu himself, but seemed uncertain if it were safe to flex a single muscle. “Something’s coming out of the trees!”

Au contraire to the huge flower pots and their bulky masses, the new obstacles were so small and low to the ground it was hard to tell anything was moving at all. Indeed, it would’ve been a fool’s errand to try and trace the movement of one by itself; They were visible only as a huge mass all being pulled in tandem.

Yotsuyu snickered, “Now since you were just too clever to be crushed to death by flower pots, I hope you’ll enjoy getting all of your insides poked through by chestnut spines.”

Josuke grimaced as the hard, spiny fruits rolled into his field of vision.

A bubble Spun to life around his finger and fired out like a rocket off its launchpad. It plowed through a column of chestnuts, emerging out filled with the water from within them, leaving behind dry bundles of spikes that collapsed from their own movement.

“Good news, my soap bubbles can hollow these things out by displacing their water content and making them too brittle to dig inside my skin,” Josuke said as a bubble zipped around to his back, saving him from a legion of chestnuts starting to tear through his shirt and rub the skin of his spine raw. “The bad news is there’s so many of them there’s no way I can get them all!”

He turned on his foot - crushing half a dozen chest nuts in the process - and faced Yotsuyu.

“Come on, you! Let’s settle this o-” Josuke gasped as Yotsuyu again spontaneously vanished, nowhere to be seen across the rocky land before them.

“Seriously?” Josuke yelled out in anger. “Fine then, change of plans.” He stood firm, making sure Kei was securely cradled in his arms as Soft & Wet surrounded them with one giant bubble. A small cluster of chestnuts were left inside to dig into Josuke, but not enough to overwhelm him.

“If this power is gravity, then we just have to escape orbit!”

The bubble started moving upwards, lifting them both up into the night sky. Down on the grass below, the chestnuts kept piling up right where Josuke had stood, forming a giant wriggling mass until eventually - when the bubble had floated up 10 metres into the air - they gave up their restless pursuit and came to a halt.

Josuke took a deep breath of relief as the chestnuts which were starting to be soaked with his blood fell off of him. He was nearly startled into breaking his bubble when he felt movement again, but realised it was only Kei stirring back into consciousness.

Her eyes opened and she rasped out “Y-Yoshikage?”

Icee ran down Josuke’s spine; He stayed quiet for a moment, then answered, “No,” with regret. “Wake up, you got attacked by somebody with a Stand, and now the same person is trying to kill me.”

Her gently rousing turned into an abrupt jolt back into alertness. “Shit, that’s right! I found that little origami girl lurking around a shelter on the Higashikatas’ land, and then someone snuck up on me and crushed me with a swarm of stones!” She frantically looked around, however in the dark of the night nothing but blackness could be made out outside the boundaries of the bubble. “Where the Hell are we, anyway?”

“In the air,” Josuke answered bluntly. “I hoped the attack had a limited range, so to escape I lifted us up to the stars!” he boasted, attitude dropping when he saw Kei’s face turning pale.

“Hey asshole, I don’t do well with heights.” She bit her lip, then chuckled. “Good grief, you really are just like my brother, because this is the kind of jackass stunt he’d pull too.”

Josuke slowly floated them back down, rejoining Norisuke - much to Kei’s silent chagrin - as they trampled over now still chestnuts and barged into the bunker. Kei coughed heavily as she walked, and once inside Norisuke ushered her to lay down on one of the complex’s stiff beds while Josuke looked around, non-plussed.

"JoJo!" Yasuho jumped on Josuke, almost crying from relief.

"Yassy," Josuke giggled. "How do you like being nicknamed too, anyway?"

“It's pretty nice, hehe,” she played with her fingers, immensely relieved to be in his presence even if they were still in the crosshairs of evil.

Their subterranean tender moment was interrupted by the continuing sounds of grandpa shouts.

"Tsurugi! You're my family and I love you, so I'll forgive you for that little stunt, but tell me what the hell is going on!" Tsurugi trembled in fright, making Norisuke calm down a bit. "I won't punish you or tell mommy about it, but you need to tell me why you did that."

"They said they could cure me! Tsuyu!" Tsurugi screamed.

Josuke took the initiative to step in, cursing the fact that he felt as though he had never been good with children. “Tsurugi, everything will be alright.” He put his hand on her shoulder, “We just need you to explain what’s going on to us.”

Tsurugi sat criss-cross on the concrete floor, scribbling away on some construction paper with a purple crayon worn down to a nub.

“Nice drawing, little one,” an airy, uncanny voice suddenly bounced around the metal walls, startling Tsurugi. She momentarily began preparing to explain herself to her mom or dad or grandpa, but the speaker didn’t sound close to any of them.

“Over here, sweetheart.”

Her gaze moved over to the room’s farthest corner, where the faint shape of a person suddenly seemed to pop out of the walls and form into a spindly figure standing over her.

“Sorry to intrude; You must be Tsurugi, right? I’m a friend of your dad’s.” The person titered, then added, “I suppose that must sound a little suspicious, right? Don’t worry, if I were just a creepy stranger, I wouldn’t know that your dad loves to collect insects, or that he never leaves the toilet seat down after he pees, right?”

Tsurugi was pulled in by the charming cadence on the stranger’s voice, compelled to keep listening despite the waving of red flags.

“Well, what are you doing down here?” She bit her nails. “I don’t think anyone but my grandpa knows how to get in here, except me, ‘cause I found it by accident.”

They flashed a smile. “Why I was brought here by my faithful little canine.” They were suddenly joined by a pudgy little creature which jumped out of the walls, circling around their feet like a loyal dog yet having the snout and tail of a hog. “He’s very adept at tracking, you see. There’s someone I wanted to find, and my dog says he’s been at this house. Then - and excuse my intruding on you - but I saw you come down here and my curiosity just got the best of me.”

Tsurugi asked “What’s your name?”

“People call me Yotsuyu Yagiyama,” they said, syllable-by-syllable, “Although my friends call me Tsuyu. Would you like to be one of my friends?”

Tsurugi started shuffling her feet across the floor, backing up subtly towards the ladder she used to climb in and out of the bunker. “Well, I should actually really just go back to my bedroom. I don’t think I should be out here anyway.”

“Wait, Tsurugi!” Yotsuyu cried out, putting a hand forward. “You’re a socially clever kid, aren’t you? How about we talk in terms of business then?”

Tsurugi stopped, unsure of what to say.

“Have another look at my pet here,” Yotsuyu instructed as they stroked the dog, making it lay down. Its already dull gray fur suddenly had a quality of stone start to be painted across it. The thing’s face went stiff and its limbs became frozen. “Have you ever seen something like this before, Tsurugi? A living thing turning into stone?”

“I didn’t wanna believe it, but I saw it with my own eyes. That dog turned into a rock! It has the rock disease, just like us grandpa!”

Everybody had been listening with baited breath as Tsurugi explained herself.

“But before it died, Tsuyu knelt down and fed something to it, and it got back up good as new!”

"Yagiyama fed it something?" Josuke asked. "Are you trying to pull one over on us again?"

"No JoJo, I think she's telling the truth," Yasuho put her hand on his angered shoulder. "Earlier, before all that stuff in the city, I saw an animal just like that out here."

“They knew about the disease, so Tsuyu told me ‘I’ll tell you how to cure it, if you lure that man living in your house - the one with the sailor's hat - to this basement.’ Josuke’s not a real part of our family, so I didn’t see anything wrong with the trade. Still don’t!”

Norisuke turned his head between his grandchild and a squinting Josuke.

“So uh, what is it? What’s the supposed cure?” Norisuke asked.

“I already told you! Yotsu fed the dog something! I didn’t see what it was, but it must have been some kind of medicine!”

“And this, architect?... What do they want with me?”

“I can’t say Josuke, Yotsuyu isn’t somebody I’ve ever thought of as ‘important’ like this before. If Jobin were here maybe he'd know... but Yagiyama and I have only ever talked on a professional basis.” Norisuke fidgeted a bit in place before going into panic. “We gotta get back to the house now! That bastard will go for my kids!”

“I doubt it,” Josuke calmed him down. “This Stand user, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, wants me dead, and knows I’ve been staying here. If they didn’t care about hurting the others, they would’ve just attacked the house,” he concluded.

“Yeah, see!” Tsurugi chimed in again. “You can totally trust Yotsuyu more than Josuke, grandpa.”

Yasuho rolled her eyes. “Hey Tsurugi, how about you do me a favour and go keep Ms. Nijimura company over there?”

Josuke sighed in relief as Tsurugi waddled away. “That girl’s easily manipulated, it seems,” he remarked. “It’s because of how afraid she is of the Rock Syndrome, isn’t it?”

Norisuke was lost in a maze of thoughts. “Yagiyama is our enemy, but… Do you think they really could have a cure?”

“It’s a mystery,” Josuke lamented. “Everything about this is, actually! Who in the world is this person, really? And their Stand power… It seems straight forward, but they manage to keep vanishing and popping back up out of nowhere, and they manage to get a hole blown through their heart and keep walking around like a headless chicken!”

Yasuho rapidly typed and pressed through her phone. “Yotsuyu Yagiyama is a very well known person, but there’s almost no information on their past… The only record of that name from before about a decade ago is a young boy who died in a hiking accident.”

“Listen to you, it makes me sick.”

The ghost manifested again: Yotsuyu Yagiyama emerged from the shadows, looking jeeringly at Yasuho. “So many wonderful things going on around you, and you only care about garbage from the past? That’s what makes me succeed where you’ll all fail! I’m not afraid of the future! My ambitions have nothing to do with where I came from!”

Josuke’s breathing grew heavy and his eyes narrowed, pupils flaring with a dark determination. “I’m giving a five-second long chance to surrender.”

Yotsuyu stood still, silently counting up their time with their fingers, which glowed metallic red.

Josuke launched Soft & Wet forward, ready to snap Yotsuyu’s neck.

And right beside it went Yasuho, who was suddenly swept off her feet and pulled rocketing through the air towards Yotsuyu, right in the path of the Stand’s rushing fists.

Chapter Text

Yasuho’s eyes were frightful and her skin was flushed. Soft & Wet burst apart into a spout of soapy water, Josuke screaming as Yasuho was dragged into the clutches of Yotsuyu’s spiked arms, which rested against her like knives.

“In addition to everything else I am superior to you in, I’m also far more clever in the use of my Stand,” they gloated, taking long strides backwards with Yasuho held hostage. “If you don’t want to see her hurt then surrender your life!”

Josuke stayed silent, only taking pronounced, purposeful steps forward with blind fury worn on his face. His unwavering gaze managed to stab into Yotsuyu’s conceited being, and they started sprinting away, Yasuho being dragged feet-first after them like a moon in their planet’s sky.

By the time they had made it to the far end of the bunker, they had crawled out of a hole in the ceiling and out of sight into the greenery outside, Yasuho’s screams trailing off with them.

“Damn it! God damn it!” Josuke smashed his fist against the wall in profound frustration, only the cushioning of Soft & Wet’s knuckles around his stopping him from cracking a bone. “What in the world was that?!”

“It would seem Yagiyama used their own ability on themselves; Yasuho got dragged by the feet, so I had to guess, they were able to take only her because she had on a different type of shoe than we did; That’s how precise their powers are,” Norisuke remarked, craning his neck to take a look out the crumbling exterior of the structure. “I hadn’t realised the earthquake did such a number on these walls.” He set his hand on the ground and let it shine royal purple. “King Nothing!”

The puzzle pieces of his Stand started flocking out of the bunker, making themselves into dolls of Yotsuyu and Yasuho. Josuke pulled himself outside, not wanting to waste a second he had to follow. He followed them all around the landscape as he scanned every direction, calling out and desperately hoping he’d hear Yasuho’s voice yelling back. He followed the reconstructions all the way to the edge of the estate, on the tops of cliffs overlooking the sea. At this point, Yotsuyu - as they had before - vanished from the Stand’s projection, but Yasuho’s copy caught up to the real thing, thrown against a huge, sand-coloured rock. Thank goodness she seemed okay, just bound and gagged by ropes of filmy sheets, which Josuke shredded off with his bubbles.

Yasuho took a huge breath of relief, and then used all the air she just gained to yell, “Behind you!”

Josuke’s eyes were peeled off looking over his dear to see the stretched palm which had crept into his peripheral vision. Just as it brushed his shoulder, he sent Soft & Wet’s fists flying in its direction.

“ORA ORA ARA ORA–”

He again brought his assault to an abrupt stop, as he realised he was not pummeling Yotsuyu but merely futilely slamming against the face of the stone Yasuho was tied against.

The stone which was behind her five seconds ago.

“Josuke!” Yasuho panted, while he looked onward, puzzled.

Soft & Wet had broken a chip out of stone, and it fell down on the grass surrounded by a viscous puddle, the contents of which dripped from the rock like blood.

“Get back! That’s their trap! The architect is inside the rock!”

Josuke’s heart rate spiked as he watched the stone start to quiver and shift. Like an invisible, impossible fast chisel was being slammed against its surface, Yotsuyu’s coy smile was carved into view. All of their features came into view, gravel being sloughed off like snake skin as they lifted themselves up from the fetal ball they had crouched into.

“Good news, Josuke, I didn’t even need to try to touch you again and your already under my Stand’s spell once more!”

“I don’t understand,” Josuke huffed, holding his frame wide and stepping in front of Yasuho. “What kind of Stand power is this?”

“I’ve explained it already! Those touched by my power hold the title of ‘The One Who Gravity Loves.’ Try to keep up, please? I can only explain it for you, not understand it for you,” they sneered.

“How-” Yasuho coughed heavily, clinging onto Josuke out of fright, “How do you keep hiding your body by petrifying it?!” she demanded to know. Yotsuyu looked at her smugly, as they did all things.

“My physiology is of no inherent relation to my Stand; It merely marks me as a superior being. One who is truly connected to the Earth’s infinite power.”

“You mean, right here in Morioh, there’s such thing as a ‘Rock Human’ who can turn into stone?” Yasuho stumbled over her own words in chilling realisation. “‘Turn to stone…’” Her mind flashed with the image of Tsurugi, living in horror of the Rock Syndrome, and the dog she saw be saved from the same fate.

“What kind of bullshit is that!?” Josuke barked back. “Are you expecting us to believe you were born in the ground?”

“Ha!” Yotsuyu pointed forward, “You speak only of yourself! We killed you weeks ago, but you lived because you fell in the fault lines with that emo faker Kira and went through Equivalent Exchange!”

The now familiar warning bell of objects charging through the woods like a stampede of bulls sounded once again, this time manifesting as deep, hollow thuds backed by the sloshing of liquid.

Josuke stood his ground. “Count yourself lucky I expect answers out of you, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, because if I didn’t I’d have beaten you into dust ten seconds ago!”

“Answers, huh? Is it true then that you’ve lost your memories? Well here’s an easy one: The noise you here right are now from jugs of liquid pesticide chemicals. Higashikata Fruits Company stopped using them for their natively grown produce some time ago, so a large back-stock exists on this land. To be specific, the thing targeting you is the liquid itself; meaning even if you try to break or bury the containers, it’ll just seep out and keep going after you anyway.”

Yotsuyu curled back up, their skin, hair, clothes - entire being - being swallowed up by a radiation of stone.

“Josuke! Yasuho!”

Kei came calling out from a short distance, limp-running towards them alongside both the Higashikatas involved in the night’s affair. Norisuke in particular seemed to be having his proud stride be broken the sight of Yotsuyu’s petrification.

“W-What is this?” he huffed, “Is that-”

“A person who can turn into stone,” Kei finished stoically.

“Grandpa? What’s wrong?” Tsurugi tugged on Norisuke’s pant leg as his eyes were shaking with images from a fateful snowy night.

Kei took a bit of catharsis seeing the man troubled, but still felt a pang of sympathy knowing that - when cut deep - she and him shared the same trauma.

“When you’re just a child, you feel like all of the adults you know are invincible. Part of growing up, though, is realising that all of them - even your family - have the same troubles and fears you do, plus a whole lot more.” She glared at Norisuke, and then straight up towards The Higashikata home, “Some of them are even evil.”

Tsurugi whined, her head swiveling back and forth between her grandfather and the desperate fight she helped to instigate. “What about me? Am I gonna be one of the evil ones? I thought I was doing the right thing but first I upset Yasuho, and now I hurt my own grandpa!”

Kei bit her cheek and shook her head. “You’re still just a kid; Definitely a creature of one, but all things considered, you’re alright, Origami Girl.”

Tsurugi looked at the dirt, trying to avert everyone’s gaze and saying things to distract from the situation.

“You know… I’m not really a girl, don’t you?”

The plastic jugs rolled past the observing group, their caps popping open from the impossibly high power the poisonous liquid inside rushed forward at as they approached Josuke.

Kei fixed her hat and dashed forward, plates of black armor sprouting up from the aurora swirling over her stretched out arm.

“Don’t say things like that, kid! You’re whatever beats inside your heart!” she yelled back as she closed to distance to Josuke, shooting out a tornado of ice cold winds which zipped around the scene. “Born This Way!”

Josuke, Yasuho, and Yotsuyu were all knocked off their feet, Kei lording over them while her Stand’s head popped out from over her shoulders and glared down at them with its hooked nose and pointed teeth.

Much like the first time he encountered Born This Way, Josuke found himself being stabbed by freezing spikes.

“Listen, Josuke! My Stand made all that liquid pesticide freeze solid! It will still try to rip through your skin, but it’s a lot less dangerous than it entering your bloodstream.”

Josuke winced through the sharp pains and stood back up, looking first at Kei leaning over to pull Yasuho up in her arms, then over at Yotsuyu, who had full reverted to the form of a freakishly realistic statue.

“Soft & Wet!”

Josuke lifted the rock up in a bubble, floating it closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

“Can you hear me in there, Yotsuyu Yagiyama? Stop hiding and face me, or I’ll drop you right into the sea.”

Within the bubble, Yotsuyu unpetrified and grimaced. Their sandy skin blistered as the true form their Stand appeared beside them.

About as tall as Yotsuyu themselves, it was a lumpy humanoid with revolting green skin, shown only on its head as it was contained within an astronaut-like suit of bold red armor, a thin waist countered by puffy thighs and robust spined chest armor, before both arched backed down into spindly robotic limbs.

“‘Hello Rockview.’” Yotsuyu sensually ran their hand across their own body, flipping their fully unpetrified pink hair, and ceasing the movement of the pesticides.

The ground below Yotsuyu quaked as jagged stones flew into the bubble, breaking it and sending them and their Stand back to the ground.

Josuke took a deep breath as Soft & Wet's body formed around his; then, it swung.

“ORA!”

Soft & Wet’s arm was caught by Hello Rockview’s, which tried punching back.

“USHAAAA!”

Yotsuyu’s Stand was weak, however, and Josuke was easily able to overpower it, culminating in Soft & Wet punching straight into its helmet, smashing through it and causing a corresponding cut to burst open across Yotsuyu’s face.

They stance faltered, a genuine emotion of pain and fear seeming to colour their face for the first time that night as they looked across at everybody standing before them, then flipped their head around to look at the cold sea water over the edge of the Earth.

They jumped over.

“That nutcase!” Josuke yelled after them, watching them dive with perfect form. “Like Hell I’m letting you take an exit route.”

He jumped as well.

“Yotsuyu’s scheme might be turning back into stone and waiting under the water, assuming they don’t need to breathe while in that state,” Josuke kept trying to strategise, even as he was taken under by the cold waves. The view of the dark, murky water surrounding him was broken through by a clear ball floating towards him, rippling down from the surface.

“ Soft & Wet’s made a bubble of air for me ,” Josuke smirked as plopped his head inside, relishing in his supply chain of air he searched for Yotsuyu’s mass.

“ Got you! ”

He swam down towards the silhouette of a kneeling human, ready to get all the answers he needed by any means necessary.

Josuke’s eyes were narrowed as Soft & Wet hovered behind him, ready to beat down anything Yotsuyu may try. One of its hands poked into the bubble around Josuke’s head, adding mass to it and making it slowly expand into a large sphere which also enveloped Yotsuyu into its folds.

Josuke stood with his arms crossed. “Wouldn’t do me much good being down here with no way to talk to you, now would it?”

The statue known as Yotsuyu Yagiyama shifted a bit, a harsh grinding sound filling Josuke’s ears as their head slowly turned up to look him down with its colourless pupils.

“I have a lot of questions you’ll need to answer, but the one you’ll tell me first is simple: Who in the world am I?!”

Abruptly, Yotsuyu shed their stone coating and stood back up, Stand by their side, making the noise of deep, mechanical breaths. “Hello Rockview!”

The bubble started being bombarded by small rocks from the outside, trying to enter Yotsuyu’s orbit by only being able to harmless tap-tap-tap against the soap circumference’s firm surface. Nonetheless, they distracted Josuke for a second, which was just enough time for Yotsuyu to pounce on him and bring him down into a headlock, slowly turning back to rock with their shoulder crushing Josuke’s throat.

“I’ve once again made you the one who gravity loves, now. In essence, that means you can either you use your Stand to rip my arm off and stop yourself from being choked out, or use to stop those stones from propelling at you and beating you down until you drown, but not both.”

“You’re crazy!” Josuke gasped out, “You don’t think I’ll be able to take you out with me?”

Yotsuyu laughed. “I’m not much concerned about that. Between you and me, I’ve a ‘deus ex machina’ on my person which will be able to save me from any injury you inflict.”

“ Something that h-heals them ?” Josuke thought back to Tsurugi’s tale, of Yotsuyu apparently producing a magical cure to a magical ailment. “ Could it be? ”

Soft & Wet huddled around Josuke, trying to peel Yotsuyu’s arm off him while simultaneously using its sheer mass to deflect the rocks being pulled towards him from the sea floor; It seemed worthless, as the tiny stone’s constantly smashing against it still sent bruises along Josuke’s spine, bringing him closer and closer to defeat.

“No! No God damn you! Tell me who am I! What happened between us?”

He thought the last thing the smug guise of Yotsuyu’s face might just be the last thing he ever saw, when suddenly, the dark water around them was invaded by a vivid purple glow.

Without further warning, the two of them, Josuke’s air-pocket bubble, and all of the rocks following the sailor boy were dredged up, being rocketed up back towards the air like they were strapped into Apollo 11. The force eventually made Soft & Wet’s bubble finally give out, making Josuke and Yotsuyu fall a little backwards onto a mesh texture.

“ This is… a net? ”

Soft & Wet finally brought a bubble on its finger against Yotsuyu’s petrified arm like it was a cutting torch, rotating and trying to pull their being into small surface until a sickening snap made it crack, and Yotsuyu reanimated to pull away, freeing Josuke’s airway.

“Are you kidding me?!” Yotsuyu shouted, out of both pain and anger. “Are we being fished up by a trawler?”

Josuke’s eyes widened in amazement as the large vessel that had scooped them up: A boat made entirely of jigsaw pieces, connected and shaped to the sea’s memory.

“That’s King Nothing!”

With the net still being overwhelmed by rocks with both of them stuck inside, Yotsuyu deactivated their Stand power and instead started desperately having its orcish hands start tearing away at the netting.

“ORA!”

Soft & Wet slammed theem right in their head, breaking through the net as Josuke once more fell in the water with Yotsuyu and dragged them to a little strip of sand at the bottom of a smooth slope down from the cliff faces.

Yotsuyu still squirmed, panting, reaching around their waist to open a little pouch attached to their belt, and becoming hugely dismayed when they found it was empty.

“Shit, shit!” they cried, totally broken out of their grandiose persona. “Where’d it go?”

Josuke looked back to the sea out of the corner of his eye, thinking for a moment he could nearly see something floating away from where he had just tackled Yotsuyu. He had Soft & Wet quickly reel in it: It was palm-sized, deep green, and fleshy, like a ripe fruit.

“JoJo!”

The other four all ran down, crowding over the exhausted Josuke and the injured Yotsuyu, who was clutching their arm and gritting their teeth.

Their eyes welled with tears and widened with realisation.

“Well, end of the line I suppose,” they smirked again.

“ End of the line ?” Josuke panicked.

“Like Hell, you don’t get to die that easily!” he shouted, shaking Yotsuyu.

“ If their internal anatomy is all screwed up compared to a regular human’s… Did I accidentally hit a vital organ? ”

“I always thought I’d die some place a bit brighter, but the little stars up there are well enough.”

“Answer me, jackass! Why did you try to kill me in the first place?”

Yotsuyu kept smiling, refusing to die being anything less than the smuggest person in the room.

“And I regret nothing, least of all seeing your puny little face flushed with confusion! Haha!” They were cut off by their own harsh coughing, “This was a freak accident, nothing else; Don’t get tricked into a swollen head, you’re still on the losing path, all of you!” They lifted their head slightly, pointing to the back of the group. “Except you, Tsurugi. You’re the one who’s on the right path.”

A final breath rattled out of their throat, and Yotsuyu - skin, hair, clothes and all - softly dissolved into nothing but a pile of gray dust.

Chapter Text

Everybody gathered around the clumps of rock and dust that were Yotsuyu’s remains. Most of them were simply confused beyond belief, whereas Norisuke was downright disturbed looking as the last chips of Yotsuyu’s eyes crumbled away.

“What… What in the world is this?” Norisuke heaved. “Some… human-shaped thing?! Just hanging out in Morioh?!”

“That’s really them?” Yasuho asked as she reached an apprehensive hand out.

Kei scolded her, barking “Hey! Don’t touch it, it might be dangerous!”

Norisuke instead had King Nothing give a couple mighty taps on the body.

“Dead as a doornail,” he said. “But were they ‘alive’ to begin with? I mean, even by the standards of Stand users, this is inhuman! What kind of organism is this!?” Norisuke flipped his head around, seeing Josuke and Yasuho, confused but not as disturbed as he felt.

"I mean," Yasuho coughed, "I've seen a Stand that can both follow someone and shoot freezing winds. And it rides a bike on top of that! Point being, isn't this still just a Stand power?"

Norisuke shook his head. "If I had to guess, you’ve only had a Stand for a short while, right?" Yasuho nodded. "When people with powers like ours die, those power vanish from the Earth. What I mean to say is, if Yotsuyu had the power to petrify their own body through magic, it wouldn't have left their corpse like this!"

Norisuke seemed on the verge of hyperventilating, staring at Yotsuyu's remains.. “This, this looks a lot like when people die of the Rock Syndrome. But Yotsuyu... could control it.” He started walking back to the bunker in silence. “Come on, I don’t want the rest of the family to know about any of this.”

“A man with no memories who was made from two people, a disease that turns people to stone against their will, and somebody who shows up wanting to kill the first and able to invokee the second voluntarily; That’s where we Stand,” Norisuke summarized, his hands planted firmly on a table in the bunker, surrounded by his odd assortment of comrades. “And Ms. Nijimura?”

Josuke and Yasuho both looked over nervously at Kei, who had adopted  a blank faced expression in hopes of managing to salvage heer facade. 

“You’re a Stand user as well?”

She only got a chance to open her mouth before Norisuke started crushing her in a giant bear hug.

“That’s totally awesome! We have so much in common, we’re gonna be even better friends now!” he clapped.

“What about the cure! Did Yotsu have it on them?” Tsurugi interrupted, her begging sparing Kei her untimely fate.

“Be quiet Tsurugi, don’t let yourself be swayed by false hope. No thing like that exists,” Norisuke said.

“Actually, they did.”

“What?”

Josuke pulled out that thing Yotsuyu had from their pocket, having saved it from floating away. “It’s all wet now, but Yotsuyu had this in that pouch-belt they had. It’s a fruit of some kind, although it seems already eaten off of.”

“No way! Give it here, give it here!” Tsurugi clawed for the fruit like a pig waiting for slop.

“Don’t eat that Tsurugi! We still have no direct evidence of its properties. It could be poison for all we know!” Norisuke took the fruit in his own hands. “King Nothing!”

King Nothing spawned its pieces from the fruit, shifting through the scents it could find to form the complete tree of the fruit. It was a small, tubular plant which looked small enough to be hauled in a suitcase. Growing around it were tiny, leafless branches, while a crown of leaves topped it. On two or three of the branches grew the fruit, spiky little orvids.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it, although the leaves on top heavily resemble a fig tree’s in my opinion ,” Norisuke surmised. “But the inside of the fruit looked compartmentalised, like a citrus fruit.”

Norisuke stared intently at the fruit, trying to jog a memory of having seen it before. He was so focused that he completely ignored it when everybody else jumped back and started shouting, ignoring it until he realized the fruit was no longer actually in front of his eyes.

“That’s the rock dog!” Tsurugi shouted.

The strange animal which she and Yasuho had reported seeing was indeed standing in front of the group, the non-puzzle section of the fruit lodged in its jaws, before it swallowed with a great gulp, causing the reconstruction to fall apart.

“It just ate the damn fruit!” Josuke shouted. “Catch it!”

Josuke dove for the dog, but it somehow managed to slip right through its arms. It gave a cute stare to everybody looking at it before casually walking straight through the bunker walls.

“What the hell!” Kei shouted. “It became intangible!”

“Is that dog a Stand user?” Yasuho wondered. “Or is that a natural ability?”

“Never mind that!” Norisuke bellowed. “We have to catch that thing!” he grabbed Tsurugi’s wrist and dragged her out with him. “Come on, we gotta go to the pet shop! I wonder if that thing eats normal dog food.”

After grandfather and grandchild had left, Josuke startled Yasuho by grabbing her hand tight.

“Looks like I saved you this time, right?”

“It’s not funny,” she pouted.

Josuke leaned her head back and went down for a kiss, their noses rubbing against each other. Butterflies went through Yasuho’s brain and she could only let out a tiny “ah!” when their mouths released.

“Get a room you two,” Kei yawned as she passed by, stealing a can of Coke from Tsurugi’s mini-fridge before strutting back to the bedroom.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Hm?” Kei flopped back on a recliner chair and huddled her head up to her knees as she reached for a stack of books sat on the floor next to it. “I come down here all the time. Whatever the hell big bro was up to he got the old man to build him this place, and I think I count as his next of kin - unless he knocked up some girl across the Pacific without telling us - so now it’s mine. Sucks I gotta watch for that dumb origami girl now though.”

“Well hold on then, by that logic it should be mine!” Josuke countered.

“Yeah yeah sue me about it.” Kei threw down the novella she had been skimming in frustration. “These books all suck so if you’re claiming Yoshikage’s property I’m gonna blame that on you.”

“I’m gonna need to get some corkboard and make a string chart.” Yasuho suggested. “This just keeps becoming more and more of a weird headache the further down we go. If he’s dead, is the truth about JoJo’s identity gone forever?”

“No.” Josuke shook his head simply. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Norisuke, but when we were fighting, Yotsyuyu said ‘we already killed you.’ They had allies, friends, and they were all against me and Yoshikage.”

A short while later, Josuke and Yasuho had departed the bunker on the grounds that they deserved to finally go out on their date, but were stopped from intense sushing from behind a bush.

Norisuke and Tsurugi were huddled there, the former holding in his hand a long string tied to a stick which held up a basket shadowing a giant bowl of dog food.

“We’re trying to catch that rock dog,” Norisuke explained the obvious. “It hasn’t gone for the food yet though. I wonder if it even eats this type of food.”

“I really want to keep it though! It might’ve lost its home in the earthquake,” Tsurugi added. “I’ve even already got a name picked out: Pebble.”

“You two leaving? Have fun, but Josuke, at 05:00 I want you to meet me at the Higashikata Fruit Parlor. We have a record there of every fruit on the planet Earth! We’re gonna investigate what that mystery plant is for ourselves.”

Josuke and Yasuho had a great date considering that in the last 20 hours they had respectively been psychologically tortured and almost murdered.

Josuke had left her to sleep at her apartment - smiling at how she seemed awfully giddy when he told her “goodnight honey”- and now arrived as told at the Higashikata Fruit Parlor, awaiting Norisuke in the quietest part of the day. This part of the city was the same place Josuke and Yasuho first went to investigate his identity together.

“What a sweet little fruit shop,” he said to himself of the two-story slice of plaza. His dialogue continued from behind him, Norisuke arriving alongside several apparent employees of the parlor.

“There’s a thousand industries dedicated to celebration, but when something unfortunate happens or somebody is ill, you only ever send them fruit and flowers.”

Norisuke approached his shop door to unlock it, waving his hand around the surrounding shops in the plaza.

“Notice how almost every other part of this lineup is a fashion store. From left to right you have a boutique, a shoe store, a jeweler, another boutique, a pottery shop, a hat shop, a bookstore, and two more boutiques. Now what do you think teenage girls want to do after they finish enjoying themselves shopping? I have two sisters and have raised two daughters so I can say with confidence, they want to relax at a cafe with a good view! That’s what we provide, a second floor fruit parlor cafe!” Josuke watched as Norisuke’s eyes bulged out of their sockets with the sheer energy of triumph.

“There’s a flow of people in the city, coming from the train station and dripping down the back of these streets. This parlor is the nearest place to grab a snack getting off a train, so I’ve created a grand entrance to the resort city of Morioh! The flow all comes here! Whadda ya think 'a that?!” he exclaimed.

“Quite impressive.” Josuke nodded as they walked into the fruit shop.

“Now see these net melons here JoJo, they’re two for 15000 yen and are meant to be high end gifts. They’re harvested from the highest class trees in the highest class farm in the country and can be found exclusively in my Higashikata Fruit Parlor. These quality melons, they’re sold by nobody else! Conversely, I only purchase super first-rate products. For comparison, a fruit you’d buy at the supermarket is third-rate, cultivated to be just satisfying enough at a cheap price. Thing is, they’ll start rotting in no time if there’s any left unsold, and having that type of thing on display would torpedo our reputation. That’s where the parlor on the 2nd floor cafe comes in, because just before those melons start to go bad, we cut them up and offer melon parfaits to customers who just got off the train or just finished shopping at boutiques. I bring in that flow and the risk of wasted or rotten melons is null and void! Whadda ya think 'a that?!”

“I see.”

Norisuke invited JoJo into a high class looking elevator heading to the top of the building. “I’ve really got to admire you for this, you definitely have a knack for this type of thing.”

“We’re gonna look through our fruit archives. They’re based on the United States’ Department of Pomology, who during the 1940s commissioned watercolor paintings to create a national fruit and nut registry. But first, you have got to try one of my melon parfaits.”

One of the waitresses presents Josuke with a wavy glass cup jam packed with fruit.

“You see the shape of that glass? It was designed very deliberately. You gotta have a good shape or else there’s no appeal! Just like a woman!” Norisuke laughed and patted Josuke on the back harder than was necessary.

“Not take a good look, this parfait might look like a mishmash but there’s a flow to it, too. It starts off with those cut up melons that originally cost 7500 yen, no point in delaying the selling point. They’re cushioned by a layer of jelly and whipped cream, which transitions into a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Under all that is a granita made from the melons - that being fresh fruit mixed with water, frozen, flaked apart, then frozen again. That leads into some sherbet, which is like granita except mixed with milk instead. For some texture variety, there’s a crunchy corn biscuit next, before you get more melon jelly and whipped cream, ending on a tangy puddle of melon juice. Now see this spoon JoJo, you stick it in and pull it up, and those nine layers inside the glass start to mix by convection. It’s so easy to do because of the shape of the glass, you see, people love these parfaits and will come back with their friends and family for another. Everything completely connects back to the end goal Josuke, that’s the flow!”

“Damn, this is super good!” Josuke complimented, fully drawn in by Norisuke’s dramatic telling.

“Everything here has a natural flow. Now ‘flow’ is a metaphor, but if you work with it instead of against, you’ll definitely reach your goal. Josuke, when you’re in my household, always remember that. Otherwise, you’re gonna end up with a failing shop full of shitty fruit!”

Josuke gobbled down his parfait while Norisuke idled on his cell phone for a bit. “Hm, no way! I missed an email from Jobin! He’s back in the country!”

The quiet veil of the early morning was then broken by footsteps, a crouching man presenting himself in front of them.

He had on a robust white hoodie covered in little yellow thorns, its black hood sticking out in the shape of a spade. He possessed dark folded lines scarring his face up to his sand blonde hair, crew cut and spiked around the circumference but folded into a wavy crown on top.

Josuke had seen this man before! Back when he fought Ojiro Sasame, he had seen that exact face in his memories!

Startled by this appearance, Josuke twitched and knocked over his parfait, spilling its glorious contents onto a pool on the table.

“E-Excuse me,” he muttered out. “I just seriously spelt the parfait, but-”

“It’s okay to make mistakes, right?” the man stood and smirked at Josuke and Norisuke. “You’re only human after all. That’s what the great poet Aida Mitsuo said.”

Norisuke started laughing. “Aw man, I loooooove Aida Mitsuo!!!!!”

The man slashed a full, kiddish smile back. One of genuine joy, not cocky arrogance. “Wahahaha! Well, that is an all time great line I suppose!” The spiky man leaped into Norisuke’s arms, who caught him in a tight hug.

“Welcome back, Jobin! Why Didn't you call me!”

“I emailed you, didn’t I?”

“You know I don’t know how to work that! So… how was Singapore?”

“Dad you giant goof! I was in Vietnam! Philippines too, there were some pretty good fruit fields down there, I have the report prepared and all. But first, check this out!”

Jobin Higashikata, eldest son of the fifth generation, popped open a bag he had with him and pulled out a jar with a large, crawling insect inside.

“I bought this down there! A Dorcus Titanuis Palawanicus! 11.2 centimeters long!”

“Jobin! You and your damn beetles, I thought I told you not to do anything unrelated to your work! Did you take so long because you spent a day buying dumb gifts again?!”

“Awww come on man, 11.2 centimeters! That’s gotta be a world record!” Jobin set the beetle back in his overstuffed bag. “Can’t believe you’d act like this, I thought when I got back you’d say ‘I can rest easy now that I’ve seen your face.'”

“Ah! That’s another Aidaaaaa Mitsuo!”

Jobin and Norisuke high fived. Jobin then turned his attention to the sailor boy accompanying his father.

“And oh my goodness you must be Josuke! Finally get to meet you, I just barely missed you before I had to go on my trip. How’re ya doing, champ?”

Josuke was so utterly lost at what to say. “Well uh, my memories are still los-”

“That’s no concern of mine!” Jobin first shook Josuke’s hand up and down before progressing into an entire hug. “Any friend of pops is a friend of mine! Here, I got a gift especially for you!” Jobin reached back in the bag and produced a 86.36 centimeter silver chunk of medal, quickly identified by Josuke as a belt buckle. Closer inspection showed off the depiction of a toothy fish across the front.

“Uh, thank you,” Josuke said as he turned the buckle over in his hands.

“No wait! Not good enough! I am such a jackass to think that a lousy gift like that would be good enough for a new family member, especially now that I’ve seen what a cool dude you are. Please, take the beetle.” Jobin kneeled to Josuke while offering him the jarred insect.

“Come on dude! I want you to have it. You know if that was sold here in the mighty nation of Japan, it’d be costing you 300,000 yen!”

“Uh, well the thing is, I’m not really sure what to do with a stag beetle? I only have Dissociative amnesia, so I can remember how to do things, but I really don’t understand what to do with a live beetle. I mean is it alive? I don’t know what I’d feed or anything else about taking care of it.”

What the hell was going on? Josuke was face to face with his sole pre-Yasuho memory, and he was asking it about a beetle.

“Hmmm. Alright then, how about in addition to the beetle, I throw in this wrist watch!” Jobin pulled more and more gifts out of the bag to offer. “I’ll even add this wicked soft vinyl toy of Tetsujin #28! So you get the Palawanicus, the sofvi, and the wrist watch!”

“Good grief boy, how much money did you blow on that junk!” Norisuke gave Jobin a noogie.

“Come on sailor boy, you walked over here right? We can ride back to the house together in my Golden Lamborghiiiiini!” Jobin teased Josuke over.

In the maelstrom that was Jobin’s presence, both men forgot all about looking in that fruit archive.

Maybe it was better to hold off on that though, Josuke didn't want to dirty up his date suit anymore now that it had melon jelly spilled all over it.

Chapter Text

“So then I cuddle up next to her real tight, right? I put on a bunch of her favorite of my cologne so she’ll be able to tell it’s me just from the scent. It’s cheesy, but little things like the smell of your love are important in a relationship.” Jobin had been recounting his plan to surprise his wife by sneaking into their bed on the drive home from the Fruit Parlor, in his Golden Lamborghini as promised. He turned to Josuke in the back seat, casually ignoring the road in front of him. “You a lady’s man, Gappy?”

“G-Gappy?” Josuke asked back.

“Yeah, you got a real dental canyon going on on your top incisors. It’s what the modeling industry calls a charm point. You gotta be a real panty dropper, right? I’m surprised you haven’t had a crowd of adoring fans clambering to know you as their boyfriend.”

Josuke wasn’t very sure of what to say. “Uh, I actually do have a girlfriend, but we didn’t meet until after I was found.”

“My man!” Jobin forcefully high fived Josuke, ignoring his dad’s complaints about him blowing straight through a stop sign.

Around then is when Josuke saw it.

It was just for a second, he could’ve been hallucinating, but he swore he just barely witnessed King Nothing’s arm reaching out of Norisuke’s when the latter had went to twist his son’s neck back around. As if it was still searching, it went straight for a small napkin sticking out of Jobin’s pocket, before Norisuke sat back down and it dissipated again.

Josuke was underground again, he was buck naked, and had nobody and nothing to his non-existent name.

And he was there.

Jobin had run up to him with a dangerous intent in his eyes, but stepped back in surprise when he saw him. He slowly came to chuckle to himself and pitched an inside out sailor’s hat at his head before strolling away.

Josuke could only sleep for maybe an hour or two before the commotion of Jobin’s surprise return awoke the rest of the household and brought him out of his dream, which promptly faded from his memories.

“Get up, seaboy,” Joshu tauntingly referred to Josuke’s latest sailor suit which he had donned along with his new prehistoric fish belt buckle. “I wanna show you this awesome spiny lobster figure Jobin got me as a gift!” Joshu shoved the aforementioned PVC crustacean in his face. “What’s your gift, that jar of dirt on the floor?” he taunted smugly.

“Well sort of, but it’s actually what’s in the jar.” Josuke reached down and displayed the contents to Joshu.

“What the hell! You got the beetle figure!?”

“Actually it’s no figure, it’s a live beetle apparently.”

“He gave you a beetle!?” Joshu fumed.

Josuke started chuckling, getting into the bit of showing up Joshu’s asshole attitude. “Sure did! And he gave me this belt buckle, that watch, and a toy of Tetsujin #28.”

“Ah man that’s so cool!” Daiya appeared sprinting from behind Joshu, knocking him over and clinging to Josuke like a monkey. “All I got was an ashtray made out of a coconut! It’s pretty neat looking, but I don’t smoke, nor does anybody else…”

“Get down Daiya,” Josuke scolded, “you’re still not off the hook with the touchy-grabby, remember?”

“S-Sorry.” Daiya heartbrokenly stepped away towards the living room.

“Oi, Josuke,” Joshu rose up. “Who taught you to talk to my sister like that?”

“No opinions from horsehead!” Daiya quickly ran back and pushed Joshu down again.

“Man, Mitsuba got that rad new outfit, and all I got was this lameo t-shirt.” Mitsuba was indeed clad in a new get up, with a strange hot pink spandex top with cuts towards the top of her breasts and a black-and-white checkered skirt. Hato fanned out her shirt to revel in the audacity of it.

“Sis, can you see this?” she patiently held it out to Daiya. “It says ‘Green Sea Turtle’, but the letters are red! Even the damn turtle drawn on it is red, who makes these?”

“I dunno, seems pretty solid to me,” Daiya teased.

“It doesn’t fit either;” she complained, “Jobin always buys for me like I’m still 14.”

“Ah I’m sorry Hato.” Jobin appeared from his bedroom, Tsurugi slinged in his arms. “When you’re the oldest sibling - and a parent to boot - you tend to get stuck seeing things in the past. Bratty teenage sister, Joshu and Daiya bickering little kids, and my newborn child swaddled in my arms.” Jobin put down Tsurugi and smiled, wrapping his arms around his wife.

“The exception being you, Mitsy, you’re the exact same image of beauty as the day I met you even in reality,.” Jobin gingerly ran his hand down her blushing face. “Now then, where’s Ms.Nijimura, I still need to give her her gift!” Jobin reached into the deep pockets of his silver jacket and produced from their void a small golden effigy of a blank person.

“Do you think she’ll like it? It’s a 1-to-1 replica of Cuba Gooding Jr.’s Oscar!”

“Hey! Get that mutt!” Joshu started shouting from the hallway. “Some damn dog got my spiny lobster!”

“Dog?” Jobin raised an eyebrow.

On cue, the rock dog came jumping through the furniture and to its new master, dropping Joshu’s spit covered lobster on Tsurugi’s lap.

“Mhm! That's mine! We found her in the woods by the orchard. Her name is Pebble.”

“ So she managed to catch it after all .” Josuke thought; He may have to ask Norisuke how they did it later.

Kei arrived at the house at last, not getting through the door without Jobin shoving an award for Best Supporting Actor in her face.

“You ever smoke Ms.Nijimura?” Daiya followed the sound of her awkward thanks to offer up her coconut tray. “I’ll trade you for the ashtray.”

The entire family now gathered in one place, Norisuke came up with an idea. “We should all finally take a family photo!”

“Sounds great dad!” Jobin scooped up Tsurugi and plopped on the middle of the living room couch. “Mitsy get the camera, dad you get on my right.”

“Let’s get Josuke in the center, and I’ll be next to him!” Daiya dragged Josuke to directly behind Jobin’s spot on the couch.

“Nah, that’ll be uneven. You two get slightly to the side and Hato and Joshu will be on the other side. Ms.Nijimura can be in the center.”

Hato leaned down draped her arms onto Norisuke below her, while Joshu squinted at Mitsuba setting up the camera.

“Don’t turn on the flash very bright, my eyes are bad. I really think I need glasses, dad.”

Everybody else shushed Joshu.

Hidden from sight by the confines of the couch, Kei secretly reached for Josuke and grabbed his hand tight, shaking with hidden irritation.

“Alright everyone!” Mitsuba gave notice as she jumped to the remaining spot on the couch, next to her daughter. “Here comes!”

They were all enveloped in the light, which flooded the room with a loud beeping click before fading away.

Everybody quickly got up and re-gathered behind the camera to catch a glimpse of the photo. Everyone smiled at it, save for Kei who’s face stayed dry as Jobin chuckled.

“Wicked good job everyone! Our first family photo with dear Josuke here…” he put his hand on Josuke’s shoulder, and his face seemed to scowl for only a second before it continued like before. “First of many, let’s all hope, huh?”

The hallway spanned endlessly, every couple steps presenting a door. The doors were all the same, in size, color, and material, but only one of them presented the way out.

She ran up to a door that had to be a couple thousand meters in, and there it was! On the floor beneath it, the tiniest hits of scratch marks from being opened and shut.

The opening door, leaving traces across that endless hallway. Those traces which lead to the answer, finding them to go beyond the confines of truth.

That is Paisley Park.

Much like her love, Yasuho was woken up from a distant dream during her brief respite of sleep. She wondered if today would be another day her fundamental understanding of life would be shattered.

“Ah, you’re here!” Yasuho gasped in joyful surprise at the figure cast by shadow on her wall. “Paisley Park!”

“Paisley Park, I need your help! I want to help Josuke once and for all! Please! Show me his previous life!”

Her Stand crawled out of the shadows into 3D form, its head remaining hidden underneath an amorphous globe as it placed its motherly hands on Yasuho’s cheeks.

“Finding you, or people like Kei Kira, or your mother…” Yasuho heard a voice talking to her inside her head. It was her own, warbled and more mature sounding, but hers in every sense. “They’re anchored to this world by cell phones and computers. Pings off of radio towers or location data off of GPS satellites. Gosh, even when I lead you to that book at the hospital it was only because I was with JoJo when he opened it. Josuke is different, he came into the world with nothing but the dirt on his back. He doesn’t exist in my world.”

Yashuo couldn’t just hear it, she could feel it. She saw herself in that empty hallway, full of identical doors not a nick or scratch marked on the floor.

“So, there really isn’t anything else to do?” Yasuho whimpered. Paisley shook the projection of the planet that was taking the place of its head.

“There’s still so many vital things you mustn’t overlook Yasuho. Keep going as you always have; I’ve been with you deep inside since you were a little girl, I know we can be the one with fortune in our hands.”

Paisley’s form bled from its hands onto Yasuho, being absorbed into her as Yasuho’s strength of mind grew firm. Thinking about how she helped JoJo, and how he helped her. No longer was she the witless bystander being pushed around by life. The drive to be the one to lead the right path was etched within her eyes.

Somewhere out there, past the disaster and tears, the truth lay, and behind it was her and Josuke’s happily ever after.

Jobin Higashikata was plagued by the terrible sense that something wasn’t right. He returned home from his impromptu trip, and Tsurugi was out playing with Yotsuyu’s weird dog.

Now he stood in the orchard, along the coast where the other part of the pine tree ended up, and found it in disarray. Flowerpots he was certain were there had vanished, while pine cones and pesticide jugs were littered all over the place without apparent cause. He recognized the jugs as having been something dad impulse-purchased years ago and forgot about in a rinky-dink shed out on the property. Upon investigation he found the aforementioned shed with the door seemingly forced open by sheer weight.

A bunch of objects gathered to one point. That sounded a lot like Yotsuyu’s Stand.

And now they were not answering any calls.

“ No way… Did Yotsuyu come here and start a fight? That would mean they know the truth about Josuke.”

Jobin scrolled on his phone for another contact, breathing heavily as he rang them.

“Hello!” A booming voice, slow in the most subtly calculated way, greeted on the other end.

“Hey, I know I said I’d never call you but, have you heard from Yotsuyu today?”

“No, I’m uh, kind of busy right now,” the callee told him, speaking over the sound of some ruckus echoing in a desolate hall. “Call me back later, okay big man? This is day job hours.”

Jobin gritted his teeth at the ended call, and reluctantly phoned another contact.

“Heyyyyyy,” he awkwardly opened when the other end pick up.

“Jobin, my boy,” a booming voice responded energetically, words stretched out in a way that disguised calculation. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Well, man, I’m trying to reach Yotsuyu.”

“Yotsuyu? Hmmm, I haven’t heard from them lately. Why do you ask?”

Jobin gulped.

This was deep trouble.

Chapter Text

“JoJo, come here!” Josuke could barely use the bathroom anymore without being summoned to Daiya’s side like her butler. Considering the events of the previous night, he wondered if Norisuke was still actuallly expecting him to look after her.

“You wanna go out again today once I get ready?”

“Jeez I dunno Daiya,” he half sarcastically yawned. “we just went out yesterday.”

“Aw come on! You aren’t still mad about that first time we met are you? I apologized up and down!” Daiya pantomimed bowing on her hands and knees as repentance.

“It’s nothing personal Daiya, I just have more on my plate lately.”

The two started going back and forth in increasingly genuine exasperation from both, until suddenly they were silenced by sharp clicking of heels on the floor.

“Seems like there’s a bit of a tiff going on here,” Hato playfully noted, putting her hand around Daiya’s wrist. “Now now little sister, you have to understand that people need their space. I mean, Josuke’s like a little baby cat without any memories, right? How is he ever gonna have any real life experience if he has to do what you want all day everyday?”

Daiya silently backed off at the granted authority of her older sister. Hato herself tapped her finger against her chin for a second.

“And that’s why I’m making the executive decision that Josuke is coming to hang out with me today!”

“H-huh?” Josuke blinked, caught between the general irony and his learned paranoia of being accosted into new situations by strange people.

“Seems like a lot of fun, doesn’t it?” she beamed, oblivious to his discomfort. We’ll have a great girls’ day out!”

“Hold on now! For one thing, I’m not even a girl.” Josuke pointed out.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Big Sis Hato’s Life Lesson #1: The spirit of the girls’ day out transcends all age and gender.” Hato patted Josuke’s head through his cap. “Alright then, first step here we go.” Hato clapped her hands and in the same motion grabbed one of Josuke’s.

“Love you Daiya, see you later! You too Joshu!” She shouted into the depths of the house.

Josuke was pretty impressed at Hato’s ability to pace out of the house and down the street in 4 inch heels.

“Where are we going?” Josuke thought they should’ve started with that. 

“To the bus station of course. The gateway to all the city’s sites!”

“But you own cars!”

Hato’s heel clicked against the asphalt as she stopped in place, almost making Josuke stumble over.

“Oh yeah, I suppose that’s true.”

Hato tossed her hair and gazed in the direction she was heading.

“Ah well, let’s take the bus anyways!”

Josuke had never been on a bus before then, and he found it a rather fascinating experience to watch, standing in the middle row with his arms crossed. All sorts of people surrounded them, each one with a different endgame from being shuttled together. Such an infinite potential of actions from one little bubble of civilians.

“Big Sis Hato’s Life Lesson #2: No matter how rich or popular you are, it’s never a good idea to isolate yourself from the average person,” Hato taught while doodling in the window condensation with her finger.

“Right, your father seems to think similarly.”

"Mhm! Daddy made all of us older siblings go to public school, for one thing," she recounting while skipping towards the other end of the bus. “Here, it’s the most fun to sit in the back.”

Josuke remained still, and Hato cocked her head at him in disappointment.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

Josuke held his hat on as the bus hurdled over a pothole. “I’m quite fine, just, unsure about the enthusiasm,” he explained. “I’ve met more people who aren’t trustworthy than who are, so to put it in simple terms, I’m not sure what your motive is.”

“Motive?” Hato frowned. “Goodness goodness, do you think I’d ever want to hurt you?” She stared out her window, seeming to reminiscence. “I’d never do anything like that to anyone. Since I was a little girl, it’s been my responsibility to look after my family, especially Joshu and Daiya. That’s just what I’m good at, is reaching out to people.” She walked back over to Josuke. “That belt buckle you have on,” Hato pointed to his fish emblazoned clasp, “Jobin got that for you didn’t he?”

“How did you know?”

“Big Sister’s intuition, you learn someone’s taste in gifts after 24 years.”

“So, you must be happy for your brother to be home, huh?” Warming up to her, Josuke tried to make bus small talk. Hato looked strikingly indifferent.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Something the matter?” Josuke asked after considering whether it was appropriate.

“Well, the fact of the matter is, where Jobin goes, fighting follows,” Hato sighed. “I don’t really understand it all, but though they seem like best buds, he and dad have very different ideas about how our fruit parlor should be run, and every time it comes up between them it normally ends in a shouting match. Joshu and Daiya try to pick sides too, but they’re both just dumb kids.”

“You’re nice to them, aren’t you Josuke?” She asked hopefully. “I hope they haven’t been too big of jerks to you, those two both are barely right in the head.”

Josuke thought of his strifes with both of them. Was Hato aware of their Stand powers?

“Jerks? No way, I love those two like my own kin!” Josuke decided to lie to reassure her. Hato smiled.

It was not long before the bus had hissed to a halt, but Hato grabbed Josuke’s hand like a child to prevent him from leaving, informing him that such was not their stop.

Before she let go of him, however, Josuke felt Hato’s grip on his hand tighten with subconscious frustration in time with a horde of footsteps climbing up the bus.

A brigade of around half a dozen busybodies had surrounded Josuke and Hato, all of them dressed like they really wanted to look important but didn’t know how. Most of them had a camera strapped around their neck or a pen in one hand and a notebook in the other. Before Josuke had time to consider the situation they were already being blasted with an endless stream of “Can you tell us about your next show?” and “Is it true that you’re dating Tori Matsuzaka?”

Hato rolled her eyes across the lot of them. “Good grief, you nosy journalists, I’m just trying to spend a day with my friend. Can’t you go report on any of the other 5000 people doing that in this city?”

One of the paparazzi flashed a photo of Josuke’s face. Josuke blinked the camera light out of his retinas and coiled up a bubble inside the camera, popping it and making the self-proclaimed reporter’s prized camera fall apart in his hands.

“Oi, Josuke.” Hato turned around to look him in the eye, the paparazzi all snapping photos of her majestically swinging hair. “Looks like we gotta get off early.” Hato jumped up from her seat and dragged Josuke with her, the latter only avoiding falling on his face by hoisting his head up with another imperceptible small bubble.

He understood now how the ability to dash around in high heels had developed and she zoomed off the bus with him in tow.

“Big Sis Hato’s Life Lesson #3,” she huffed as they swooped in and around street corners. “If you give in to the God damn paparazzi once, they’ll never leave you alone again! Ever!”

Josuke felt the agitation in her voice matched only by the tickle of her hair flying backwards against his face.

“But where are we gonna go now?” Josuke asked as they ducked underneath a tower of scaffolding. It appeared that the building was in the process of being repainted, as evidenced by the giant tub of black primer on the skinny bridge above them.

“I know exactly where, actually,” Hato bragged. “It was just dumb luck, but his place is around here!”

“Whose place?” Josuke quizzed as they were altered by the sound of ragged breathing to one of the paparazzi trying to take a candid pic of them. Unfortunately for him, a giant bubble of black primer managed to float its way over to him before its contents dumped all over his suit and camera.

“You’ll see!” Hato giggled as she dragged Josuke around to the other side of the in-progress building, a completely decrepit workshop lined with dust and cobwebs.

“Is this a haunted house?”

“Don’t be so mean,” Hato pouted as she confidently tapped on the door, Josuke almost collapsing in fright and surprise of somebody inhabiting the building as a small gap creaked its way open.

A pair of wide eyes - proud like a lion - looked Hato and Josuke up and down from within the confines of the strange shack they had ended up at.

“Oh, it’s you,” A bored, smug voice belonging to the eyes commented. “You wanna come in?”

“Well duh!” Hato playfully confirmed. “We’re trying to hide from the press.”

The crack in the door faded away, proceeded by what Josuke estimated to be five distinct chain locks coming undone before it swung the entire way open.

The inhibitor of the ghostly building’s held himself like a Roman statue, though it was hard to tell the condition of his build through the five layers of luxury jackets which completely bundled his body. His lower head was similarly covered by a face mask, making discerning his emotional state impossible through any method but observation of his eyes, while his hair was concealed by a wide brimmed hat.

Those eyes, speaking of which, glared at Josuke with what he perceived as utmost suspicion.

“Hato my dear, who exactly is this man you’ve brought with you,” he asked her, making no attempt at subtlety.

“This is the Josuke!” Hato explained with glee.

The man hesitantly let his glare’s grip on Josuke loosen, bowing to his presence.

“I heard about you before; It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Isamu Otoishi, the tailor, and this is my atelier.” The man turned on his heel and gestured for Josuke and Hato to come inside. Josuke carefully followed Hato as she skipped up the rickety steps of the entrance.

To Josuke’s surprise, the inside’s look went in the polar opposite direction of the exterior, presenting a beautifully decorated and expertly lit workshop, with sketchbooks and rolls of fabric strewn about in delightfully designed chaos.

“Atelier is the French word for ‘workshop’,” Hato explained, “but you’re smart so I bet you already knew that.”

“This place looks absolutely wonderful sir,” Josuke commented as he turned his head around the gorgeous work space, which was big enough to catch Josuke off-guard from his expectations. “If I can ask, why host yourself inside a building that looks completely desolate?”

“Privacy,” Isamu replied with blunt meekness. “10 years ago I spent time in Milan in Italy studying fashion design, I had gotten my overseas education sponsored by Passione.”

“Passione?” Josuke quizzed.

“They’re one of the biggest fashion houses in the world!” Hato dreamfully answered. “All their models are super gorgeous!” She pointed a finger at herself, “That includes me, by the way.”

Isamu seemed to actually smile at Hato’s self-aware vanity. “Indeed, they had high interest in recruiting me as a prodigy designer, but the country of Italy, it’s nothing compared to our homeland here, it’s a place of pure beauty and style,” he reminisced. “People told me I’d get home sick, but it’s the opposite! After getting to lay my eyes on the breathtaking architecture of the Duomo di Milano Cathedrial, gaze at the mastery of Rapheal’s Scuola di Atene in-person, and experience the never ending joy of Dolce and Gabbana luxury clothing, I couldn’t stand the sight of the boring stronzos on the street here in this grease trap of a nation! The buildings, media, and people in this place suck! All work and no passion damn it! I can’t stand it, I wear these thick clothes and this face mask so my glorious self isn’t risked being seen by the unworthy!”

Josuke recoiled in surprise at the tailor’s sudden outburst, which subsided as suddenly as it had started up.

“Thusly, upon my return to Japan I chose to base myself in the place the disgusting public are most likely to ignore. I could easily pay for the exterior to be renovated, but such would be sacrificing the peace of mind brought by a life isolated by the whims of the common man, the glory of being able to accept only clients who have earned my utmost trust and admiration. Although it comes at the price of the-” his voice quickly switched to a frightened whisper, “moths.”

“Moths?”

“There! Behind you!” Isamu full on sprinted, pushing straight past Josuke and tackling himself against the wall behind him. From the ground he held up his prize, a pale insect pinched by the wings between his thumb and pointer finger.

“These abysmal hell spawn! Clothes moths, they eat fabric! The walls in this place have recently become infested with them, and yet I can’t find where the hell they’re coming from!” For the first time during their encounter, Isamu Otoishi lifted off his face mask, allowing his tongue to slide up and gingerly lick the moth up and down. “I swear it tastes ever so slightly wet, they must be in with the plumbing!”

This stunned Josuke - an impressive feat considering it had scarcely been 12 hours since he found out about the secret rock people - to the point of compelling him to pull Hato aside and whisper to her.

“Hey Hato, this guy seems like a total freak.”

Hato tsked at him again. “Now now Josuke, Isamu is sort of a total whackjob around strangers, but he’s definitely someone you can trust. I owe this guy a lot, he’s been our family’s personal tailor for 4 years, and he’s the only reason I’m in the place I’m at now!”

“Forgive me,” Isamu casually tossed the moth away and pretended nothing happened. “Please do not feel intimidated by me, I like to think of my studio as an indisputable sanctuary for all those privileged enough to enter. Clothing is the purest expression of the soul!”

Chapter Text

“Back in Italy, I attended services at a Christian church, and there I was struck by the story of Adam and Eve, the first humans who roamed naked in the Garden of Eden until the first sin opened their eyes to their nudity, and cast shame upon them!” Otoishi recounted to the visiting pair of Hato and Josuke. “That is what fashion represents, the inner desire to protect from sin! And that is why I open my own heart to all I service; My craft’s highest potential relies on me being a trusted confidant.”

Josuke’s opinion on him being a weirdo wasn’t helped much.

“You know Ms.Hato, I’m sure you only wanted to stay a few minutes, but I’d like you to try on some designs I had in mind while you’re here.” Contrary to his polite wording, Isamu seemed to have a strict determination to fulfill his order. “And you, Mr.'Josuke Higashikata', I’ve got something in mind for you now, if you would only go stay in that room over there for a few minutes.” Josuke stared surprised as he gestured to what seemed more like an extended closet than a proper room.

Hato clapped her hands together and smiled so wide it forced her eyes shut. “Oh boy! You two together has got to be a winning combination!”

Isamu grabbed Hato’s hand and started leading her away deeper into the studio, while he impatiently glared at Josuke, who hesitantly took his place in the side room he had been told to go into.

The room didn’t seem to be much larger than Josuke’s former jail cell, but was lined with luxurious polo shirts which seemed perfectly formed down to every fiber. Josuke could only tap his foot impatiently as he wondered what exactly this tailor of Hato’s intended to do with him. He had little interest in clothing, his green army of Yoshikage Kira’s sailor suits was plenty for him.

He could hear that bundled up guy and Hato chattering a few rooms away from him, but it was too scarce to follow the conversation. Josuke tried to hone his ears on, but found their path obscured by the motorized clicking of a sewing machine, which seemed to be approaching closer and closer to him.

The shirts strung up around Josuke started waving around on their hangers, disturbed by the confident stride of a fearsome Stand.

The image shocked Josuke through his eyes straight down to his heart. “No way,” he muttered under his breath, almost out of annoyance over fear at this point.

The Stand posed before him, balancing on bulky steel platforms hoisting up its frail feet which were clad in the beginning of sky blue boots which crawled up to its thighs before ending off in a spiked collar. It had long gloves in the same style, sharp spindly needle fingers poking through them. Its torso and head were too wrapped in the same colour fabric, the latter having two burning red eyes poking through underneath another set of mellow green ones, the rest of its body obscured by the draping black veil descending from its face.

“GAKKO! GAKKO!” the Stand cried out and it gave a reserved tap on Josuke’s shoulder, barely disturbing the cloth of his shirt to the point it didn’t even touch his skin. The point where it had touched suddenly ripped open from the seam, every long wave of fiber rapidly being unspun from his top to join the elegant dance of fabric flying through the air. By the time his arm was left entirely uncovered, the strings had pooled together on the floor to form a message!

“Why are you wearing Yoshikage Kira’s clothes?”

“Yo-Yoshikage Kira?” Josuke thought to himself. Was he being assaulted by one of Yotsuyu Yagiyama’s co-conspirators in Kira’s death?

No wait, he was asked about Yoshikage Kira’s clothes. And he was at a tailor’s. A tailor who noted he only accepted clients he formed a personal relationship with.

Yes! This guy must’ve been Yoshikage Kira’s tailor too! Josuke had done it, he found a potential new lead! Somebody who knew Kira!

And who probably thinks he was Kira’s murdered who ransacked his clothes for sick kicks.

Whoops.

“Wait! I can explain!” Josuke tried pleading, the strings forming the sentence flew back in the air and arranged themselves around Josuke’s mouth, tying into a gag! The Stand quickly accosted the rest of his shirt into bounds around Josuke’s wrists and ankles, leaving him squirming on the floor.

“Moft mand Met!” Josuke squealed from underneath his gag. Soft & Wet floated out of him and created one giant bubble around him, floating him around in spite of his confines.

“Gakko!” The Stand poked its sharp fingers straight through every shirt hanging behind Josuke, swiftly reconstructing them into a net around the door frame. Soft & Wet shot a bubble at it but it was so astoundingly tightly woven that even Josuke’s Spinning bubbles couldn’t make it waver.

Josuke let out a muted scream of frustration as he regretfully made Soft & Wet kick the other Stand over. It was slammed straight against the wall despite Josuke not putting much power into the kick, before fading away entirely, and he could hear an equivalent crash from where Hato and Otoishi were.

“Isamu, are you alright!?” Hato lent him a hand back up after his sudden fall. “That looked like you hit the ground really hard!” Her normal attire was hung up behind her, a newly fashioned pair of dress pants crowned her legs as they awaited a matching companion to go above them.

“I’m fine.” Isamu winced and he got back on his feet. “Hey Ms.Hato, I gotta ask, do you know where your pal Josuke got that belt buckle with a fish on it?”

“Hm? That was a gift from my brother Jobin.”

“Right, Jobin. Would you say they’re particularly close then?”

Hato shook her head no. “Nah, Jobin only got back in the country just this morning. He just got us all dumb gifts like he normally does.”

“I see.” Isamu opened a drawer overstuffed with rolls of milk white fabric and magically spun them into a suit undershirt, exactly to Hato’s measurements. “Ms.Hato, I’m afraid I must say I have a big concern over this fellow. How confident are you that he’s truthful in his claimed amnesia?”

Hato raised an eyebrow as she slipped on the shirt Isamu had just produced. “I mean, what reason would I have to doubt him?”

“That suit he’s wearing - it’s a naval uniform - how often does he wear something like that?”

“Oh, everyday actually. He has a whole closet of them! Why?”

“Well Ms.Hato, you're nearly naked right now, right? You have nothing to hide, and I can’t lie either!”

Isamu snatched the mask off his face, leaving his chiseled jaw exposed in the dusty air. He peeled off his layers of jackets, eventually exposing his excessively toned stomach through only a fishnet shirt, before completing his transformation by tossing his beanie, letting his hair fall to its true length below his shoulders.

Having been each other’s confidants for so long, this act was neither shocking nor offensive to Hato, who just rolled her eyes, slowed only by a small bit of intrigue.

“Now I am completely open with you: I recognized those clothes as soon as I walked in, as they’re my own creation. I made them for a customer named Yoshikage Kira. A customer who not long ago was found dead, in the same area your new buddy was discovered if I recall your story correctly.”

“Hey!” Hato gasped. “You better not be going where I think you are, Josuke got let go of murder charges when daddy found him!”

Isamu shook his head. “Well, I can tell you something’s up with him. Truthfully, just now I used my Stand power to tie him up in that closet,” he casually dropped, “and he had one too.”

“Josuke is a Stand user?” Hato then registered the other part of Isamu’s statement. “And you tied him up!?” she fumed.

“I wish only to preserve my own safety while I ask a few questions of him. Now please allow me to finish your outfit.”

Hato slapped away his offering hand. “Isamu you jerk! You went too far this time!”

“Did I? That Josuke, galloping around in another man’s clothes, wearing another man’s skin!” Isamu’s angered expression shifted to one of curiosity. “But that’s the thing, they fit perfectly! They fit upon his body in the same way they did to Yoshikage’s! They don’t belong to him, and yet they do!”

Before the duo could keep arguing, they were interrupted by a shirtless gap-toothed sailor boy bursting into the room, sending them both jumping back in surprise.

“Bastard!” Isamu screamed as his Stand appeared behind him. “‘Otona Blue’!”

His Stand attempted to rush Josuke, but Soft & Wet slapped it to the ground, sending Isamu tumbling over again.

“Your Stand isn’t very durable, is it?” Josuke remarked.

“How the hell did you escape!” Isamu demanded as his face turned red with frustration.

“The clothes moths!” Josuke smugly explained. “I realised there were pipes in that room, so I remembered what you said about that moth and used Soft & Wet’s bubbles to knock down the inner walls you left uncovered and find their nest!” Josuke posed triumphantly. “They had a fun time feasting on that net you made, but you’ll be thankful to know I killed them all after. Now please calm yourself, because I have some explaining to do. You worked with Yoshikage Kira, right?”

“Yeah, and now he’s dead, I’m assuming at your hands!” Isamu screamed. Josuke didn’t flinch.

“And Yoshikage Kira, he had a birthmark shaped like a star on his shoulder, right?”

“What does that have to do with anyth-” Isamu stopped dead in the middle of his rant as the shirtless Josuke turned around to display his birthmark.

Josuke took a deep breath, ending a recap of his life to that point. “My identity is unknown, but whoever I was got their body magically exchanged with Kira in the ground, forming me. That inhuman Stand user who fought me and Hato’s father, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, told me they had allies.”

“Yotsuyu?” Hato shrieked. “You mean, that fruity dude Jobin is friends with?”

“They’re dead.” Josuke solemnly added. “They were some kind of non-human organism, and there’s probably a group of them in Morioh! That Yotsuyu was carrying a mysterious type of fruit, and it seems like Yoshikage Kira wanted to get one.”

Hato blinked as tears appeared streaming down her face. She bolted up to Josuke and pulled him into her chest, clutching him tight. It was the inverse of the type of hug Daiya had given him; Hato was guarding him, not vice versa.

“Josuke… I had no idea you-” Hato hiccuped over her own words, her tears darkening her white shirt. “Your whole existence is based on sadness! Please, I want to make your life happier from now on. I’ll help you with whatever you want, okay? You’re my little sibling too, just like Joshu and Daiya.”

Josuke felt like he wanted to cry a little too. “Thank you, Hato.”

“My my,” Isamu clicked his tongue. “What a fascinating person you are. Please, Josuke, if you can forgive me, I’d like to make you your own outfit! I’ll even do it free of charge as thanks for you exterminating those petulant moths.”

Isamu had taken Josuke to another private room, Hato now taking her turn at remaining behind, although with no threats against her by the weaving Stand. Josuke, still down a shirt, stood stiff as Isamu strung a tape measure across his shoulders.

“Ah Mr.Josuke Higashikata, you’ve proven to be quite an interesting person, so I’d like to assist you, but Yoshikage Kira had disappeared from my radar for months before his death. He was a very infrequent customer, and I’m afraid I have no clues as to your other identity. Yoshikage was such a reserved person, I find it hard to believe he’d have a partner so directly like that. Just what did that man get up to?”

“That’s exactly what I'd like to know,” Josuke said, being used to the offer of assistance leading to no tangible results.

Isamu raised an eyebrow. “You told me, the person who assaulted you was Yotsuyu Yagiyama, right? There’s no mistake in that?”

“Right,” Josuke nodded, a tad perplexed where the tailor was going with this.

“You see this fishnet shirt I have on right, this is the least amount of clothing I’ve ever worn around the Higashikatas, including Hato. They have never seen my truly bare heart. My clothing, it guards my form from sin, but it also keeps my own sin hidden away.” With hesitation, Isamu grabbed his shirt by the collar and flipped it off. “The person you need to go after… is Jobin Higashikata.”

“Huh?” Josuke flipped around in surprise, accidentally knocking a pile of fabric Isamu was presumably intending to work with to the ground, not that he seemed to care in the moment.

Isami rubbed his hands over his own chest. “Tell me, Jobin, does anything about him strike you as odd at all?”

Josuke gulped. “Well, that’s the thing, this is a total anomaly but… I only met Jobin earlier today, but I saw him before… I think. It’s fuzzy, but the only memory I have before I met my girlfriend… I’m pretty sure it’s of him,” Josuke confessed. “Just him, looking at me.”

“Indeed. I had heard on the news that Yoshikage’s body was estimated to have been dead for three days before it was found. That would mean you were alive for three days before being discovered, wouldn’t it?” Josuke nodded in affirmation.

“So pray tell, Jobin Higashikata leaves the country on a business trip at nearly that same moment, perhaps to escape the attention should a body be discovered near his family’s land?”

“Hey! What are you getting at?” Josuke demanded, as Isamu took on the presence of a Shakespearean performer.

“It was 3 years ago, the day I returned to Morioh from Milan. Tuesday, 17 July, 2008, 11:28. I had - in essence - a reverse culture shock, and fled the humdrum streets of Sendai to some random alleyway near Tohoku Gakuten University. I had donned a face mask and hat to hide myself away from the stresses already, and that’s when I heard a commotion a scant few meters away. I rushed to investigate and to my horror, I was witness to a murder!”

“M-Murder?” Josuke’s eyes widened.

“By Stand! I have no idea what kind of Stand power was involved, but there was a person so brutally injured I’m sure a Stand was involved! There were three people there, other than the victim, and they all saw me! But as I had concealed myself, I was able to run, so I did. I never saw the face of the third person, but I would come to identify the other two as Yotsuyu Yagiyama and Jobin Higashikata!”

“Wait up. That’s a serious accusation, where are you going with this?” Josuke demanded of the sudden dark tale.

“I was never able to say it,” Isamu lamented. “By Fate I met the Higashikatas later that same day, yet I was never able to confront them about it. Maybe it was some kind of self-defense but… For years there’s been rumors of a group in this city who smuggles a high class medicine, a priceless cure-all unknown to any medical science. And a name I’ve frequently heard whispered as a proprietor of this trade is… Yotsuyu Yagiyama.”

A cure-all. Unknown to science.

Such as a mysterious fruit.

Isamu chuckled. “That’s right, none other than Jobin’s old uni pal. Pretty big coincidence don’t you think? Jobin Higashikata’s hoodie, I made it for him, it’s double lined with a black collar, wrapping away his sin from all those he holds dear.” he slammed his foot on the pile of fabric Josuke had knocked over before. “Otona Blue!”

His Stand emerged and made quick work shaping the cloth up into an aquamarine net shirt, which he offered to Josuke.

“Here, a special gift from me. You wear it underneath your normal clothing, hiding away that secret you now bare. Poor Hato, newly devoted to her adopted little brother, you could never bear to march out there and tell her that there’s a murderous conspirator in the family, could you?” He laughed like a madman. “The shape of your heart is now hidden again, ‘Josuke Higashikata!’”

Chapter Text

“So, Gappy, you want to learn what to feed a stag beetle?” Jobin’s face was giddy like a schoolboy as he left his wife behind on their bed to proudly open the door to the large side area attached to their room. Mitsuba and Joshu followed him in, the latter with excitement and the former with a sigh in her eyes. They were joined by Josuke, playing his best act of curiosity.

The room was, in simple terms, a beetle room. The back wall was entirely obscured by a complex of habitats with the little horned insects scurrying about, while the rest of the room had bookshelves consistently mostly of entomological encyclopedias and framed displays of pinned up dead specimens. A large thermometer and humidity reader were mounted against the back room, as to monitor the room’s integrity as a habitat. Jobin sat at a table in the middle, which was cluttered with a few plastic robots, one of which he studied intently in his hand.

“There’s an image going around online which says to feed them watermelon rinds, but those really aren’t good for them.” Jobin explained, his hood smugly tucked out. “The type of food a stag beetle needs is protein.”

“No matter which way you cut it, the next step is to get to the bottom of Jobin,” Josuke stood in the Lone Pine bunker, having finished recapping the events of the previous day to Kei. He became aware of the sound of yap-like snorts coming from up above.

“Perfect timing,” Josuke crawled out of the bunker, motioning Kei to stay down.

There, under the Lone Pine, he found Tsurugi Higashikata, teasing the rock dog by sticking her fingers in-and-out of its face.

“You’re gonna get bit," Josuke warned.

“Nah, it’s okay, ‘cause me and Pebble are friends now.” Tsurugi brushed off Josuke’s warning and continued teasing her pet. “What are you doing down there with the maid anyways?” Tsurugi asked, but didn’t seem to really care.

“Listen, Tsurugi, we need to ask you something,” Josuke knelt down to her level and looked her straight in the eye. “What is your dad’s Stand power?”

Tsurugi dropped her attention from the rock dog from being so taken aback. She glanced her head around as if to confirm that the group were really alone.

“Over the past two days I’ve learned several things that make me think your dad knows something about Yotsuyu Yagiyama and their mysterious fruit!”

“D-did you talk to my grandpa about this? Tsurugi meekly inquired. Josuke shook his head.

“Norisuke’s Stand ability is automatic. Before it showed us the shape of the fruit, and then it later reacted to your dad’s pocket! Considering his affiliation with Yagiyama, who I learned certain details about, I’m certain your dad knows about that fruit which cures the Rock Syndrome! But he’s hiding it from you and your grandpa.”

“But why?”

“That’s what I need to find out. I need to corner Jobin and get the truth out of him with or without mercy!” Josuke proclaimed.

“No… Not That.” Tsurugi sadly tilted her head down. “Why are you keeping this a secret from my grandpa?”

Josuke adjusted his hat as he stood back up to full height. “Norisuke is a good person; I owe him a lot and admire him, but if something came down to being at the expense of one of his children, what would a parent do? Know the truth about the fruit, or defend his eldest son?” Josuke’s mind created a vision of Norisuke standing before a giant tipping scale, Jobin sitting on one plate and weighing it down while hoisting the other one out of sight, hiding from view an effigy of Norisuke’s own childhood self succumbing to the curse.

“But you Tsurugi, you’re different. You’re somebody who needs the truth.”

Tsurugi started taking scattered breaths, she seemed much more panicked than Josuke had ever anticipated.

“My dad’s a good person too though! He’s a fun guy, and he’s never hit me or anything, not once!” Tsurugi pleaded. “He’s the reason our fruit parlor is so successful too!”

“Just tell me his ability, or else there’s no way for us to win!”

“Pop quiz!” Jobin slammed his hand on the table. “Who can tell me why it’s not appropriate to feed beetles wanton amounts of watermelon or citrus fruit?”

Joshu popped his hand up and down like a meerkat, following along Jobin’s impromptu school role play, only to be let down when Jobin called out his wife to answer instead.

“Mitsy!”

Mitsuba rolled her eyes at her own absorbed knowledge. “Because they’ll get diarrhea,” she answered dryly.

“Mitsuba: A!” Jobin cheered. “Joshu: F!”

“But I didn’t get a chance to answer!” Joshu objected.

“The appropriate food for a stag beetle is protein.” Jobin reiterated, waving his palm in front of Joshu’s face so as to silence him. “You need to feed them other bugs that have been mashed up. If you do that, they’ll reach their potential as an athlete and be strong enough to survive through winter and live for many years to come.”

“I don’t know about my daddy’s power, but I’ll still help you guys. Just please promise not to hurt my dad. No matter what, don’t attack him! Promise me that and I’ll help you, JoJo. All we’re looking for is who knows where that fruit comes from, you’re only allowed to get dad to tell you that! After that, no matter what you gotta promise not to hurt him with your Stand or anything!”

“Okay… I promise,” Josuke conceded, to Kei’s scorn.

Perhaps Jobin was as much a victim as he was in the end. Gotta think positively.

“Swear it!” Tsurugi demanded, letting her leverage over Josuke go to her head slightly.

“I swear I swear!" Josuke rolled his eyes. "I consider myself part of the Higashikata Family too, so I don’t want to bring any harm to them! I swear I’ll go in with no intention of hurting Jobin.”

“You don’t need to bargain with Origami Girl,” Kei cut in, popping her head up from the bunker like a weasel. “I have my own idea of how to expose Jobin’s powers: His beetles!”

“She’s right,” Tsurugi confirmed over Josuke’s furrowed brow. “My dad’s number one love is bug fights!”

Kei explained, “Jobin Higashikata has an entire side room dedicated to raising live insects; He spends hours in there each day, even when his wife and daughter are around. Jobin may seem tough, but he’s a bigger kid than Tsurugi! His motto in life is to ‘make every day a summer vacation’, and at the center of that is his stag beetle collection!” 

“But um, just what is this whole bug fighting thing about?” Josuke questioned.

“He gave you one right?” Tsurugi replied. “You raise live insects like those and make them fight. It’s like real life Pokemon! That stuff is my dad’s pride, so if you ‘attack’ it, he’s sure to get over-excited,and then you can make him expose himself!”

“I’m so glad you’ve decided to come see the beetles, Gappy.” Jobin presented his pride and joy to his entourage, tens of little six legged horned critters crawling up and down rocks and branches.

“Woah! Your Prosopocoilus giraffa got huge, bro!” Joshu fawned over a specimen with particularly fearsome jagged horns.

“The stag beetle is the most fascinating of all insects. Unlike other insects, they have a degree of intelligence, especially when they fight. Although, based on field study, they can only maintain their short term memory for 45 seconds.”

“Are these beetles all ‘athletes’ like you were talking about?” Josuke inquired with imperceptible shiftiness.

“Correctomundo. They’re stronger and have longer lives than the kind you’d find in the natural wilderness.”

Josuke reached his fingers down into one of the beetles’ tank, causing it to scurry away as he tried rubbing his fingers along its rough body.

“And what did you call the part on their faces? Horns? Scissors?”

“Those are mandibles you moron!” Joshu fumed.

“Right, well the mandibles on this one look really thin compared to mine. I bet mine could beat it in a fight!”

Everybody froze and looked at Josuke.

“Hey bastard!” Joshu shouted and pointed. “What’d you just say?”

“Hm?” Josuke feigned ignorance at his own words. “Oh sorry. I really was just thinking out loud there. When you don’t know about something like I do, weird stuff like that crosses your mind.”

“Don’t push your luck, square ass!” Joshu gripped Josuke by the collar, eliciting a look of disappointment-despite-low-expectations from the accompanying couple.

“Hey calm down! I said I’m sorry!” Josuke pulled himself out of Joshu’s grip and smoothed out his collar, pretending to meekly walk away. “Well, thanks for showing me the room. It’s very impressive.”

Jobin’s face seemed to be almost swelling with agitation, until finally it boiled out through his words. “Josuke, wait!” he pleaded.

Josuke stopped in his tracks. His back turned to everyone, he smiled.

“Which stag beetle were you talking about just now?” Jobin stared intently at the beetle next to where Josuke had been standing. “Was it Wendy, huh?”

“Wendy?” Josuke asked.

“Wendy, Beetle Number P-28!” Jobin yelled. “Did you just say her mandibles were thin!”

“Oh honey, I’m not sure you should be showing this side of you.” Mitsuba’s attempt at reeling back her husband was about as effective as using a fishing rod to bring in a whale shark.

“So you wanna see if that’s right, Josuke? Let’s have them fight and find out.”

“Make sure you take your time luring him into your trap!” Kei warned as Pebble nipped at Tsurugi’s rising fingers. “If you push it too hard he’ll probably catch on and think faster than you can. You can’t chicken out of the fight either, if you want any chance of making Jobin slip by wounding his pride you need to make sure your beetle beats his!”

“Oh no, I really couldn’t make you do that.” Josuke replied. “I just said something conceited. I have no reason to make these bugs fight.”

“Are you saying me, a human, catching these stag beetles, taking them away from their natural habitat to a life of luxury where they’re trained to be stellar athletes, is stupid?” Jobin was becoming noticeably upset. Josuke thought this was too easy.

“The beetle you have, Number P-36, we’ll name her Lisa.” From that moment on everybody in the room was hostage to Jobin’s game. “She too is a Doracus titanus palawanicus . Although I refer to all the beetles as women, it’s biologically a male. Length: 10.5 centimeters, age: 14 months.” Jobin enthusiastically noted down the stats of Josuke’s beetle. “Mitsuba, fetch the ring!”

Resigned to her fate, Mitsuba reached up to the top of the beetle wall and pulled down a small sturdy cork, which she tossed on the table in the center of the room.

“The fighting arena for beetles is this cork that’s been chemically hardened using resin. It’s 27 centimeters in diameter, and has a soft ring made of material from the soft rush plant slightly off from the circumference. They will fight for no more than 45 seconds. If a beetle steps outside of the soft rush ring, it loses. If a beetle is held in the air via deadlock by its opponent for 10 seconds, it also loses.”

Jobin produced two small paint brushes out of his jacket pocket, something he kept on hand for such an occasion as this, and handed one to Josuke. “Poking your beetle with this brush to command it is against the rules, but you are welcome to tease the beetle with it in order to excite it. Any questions?” Jobin smugly concluded.

“Once my dad is hooked on winning, then you can go all in.”

“Uh yeah, what are we betting?” Josuke crudely asked.

Jobin chuckled. “Gappy, you really are a wild guy. With the fighters being insects and all, there’s really no way to tell what will happen, yet you still jump straight to the style of a gambling man.”

Jobin seemed concerningly shrewd. Had Josuke pushed too hard?

“Over here I have my current pride and joy, a Dynastes hercules hercules - the double hercules is intentional - from Panama! Her name’s Bobby Z, and she’s 16 centimeters long.”

“Woah bro! You didn’t tell me you were raising a hercules beetle!” Joshu scrambled to fawn over Bobby Z with Jobin.

“So if you win Gappy, she’s all yours.” Jobin gingerly set her down on the center table behind the cork arena. “Although since you’re so serious about this, I gotta step my game up.” Jobin walked to the back corner of the room and swung open a closet, retrieving another insect habitat. Far smaller and more crudely set up than the expertly designed beetle tanks, this frumpy plastic carrier held a solitary wasp within its transparent confines.

“When it comes to fighting, just like with humans, strength and intelligence aren’t all that matter. What really decides a fight is will. These insects… What they really need from you as their trainer is a fighting spirit.”

Jobin kissed his Wendy before he set its wiggling feet down in the container with the wasp, which cocked its emotionless head at Wendy before giving off a few buzzes at it. With no hesitation the beetle marched toward the wasp and wrapped its sharp mandibles around the wasp’s infinitely thin thorax, pushing together until the stinging insect was sliced cleanly in half, its head being launched against the container.

“Woah! Gore warning! Gore warning!” Joshu excitedly chanted while Mitsuba flinched at the sight of gooey wasp blood coating #P-28’s mandibles.

“Now it’s ready for the thrill of a real fight,” Jobin concluded, running his fingers through his hair without a care in the world. “You see Josuke, these insects are gladiators! I mentioned before they lose the round if they leave the ring or get held up for 10 seconds, well the final loss condition is if they die!” Jobin excitedly pounded his palm against the table. “So then, what exactly are you gonna offer up as your bet?”

“Hey Jobin,” Miotsuba reminded him, “Josuke doesn’t really have any property to his name, does he?”

“I don’t think he has any brains either!” Joshu added, to which Mitsuba hit him.

Jobin emitted a loud “hmmmm” before quickly settling his mind on the matter. “Alright, remember how I said about betting ownership of Bobby Z? Forget about that, we’re gonna go simpler. The loser of the match has to shave one of their eyebrows.”

An awkward sweat bead fell out of Josuke while Joshu laughed like a madman.

“What for?" Josuke asked.

“What for?” Jobin laughed as he parroted back. “‘Thrill is written with the kanji… for Feel and Love…’”

“Ooh!” Joshu’s mouth formed a perfect O in his excitement. “Mitsuo Aida, right? Right?”

“It’s such a great iconic line after all!” Jobin cheered as he clapped both of Joshu’s hands. “An eyebrow will always grow back, and if you’re that sensitive about it you can have Hato draw one back on for you. Although if you wanna back out of the bet, consider this your last chance.”

“Well Jobin, you said based on your observations that stag beetles have intelligence, right?” Josuke quizzed.

“That’s correct.”

“Then… I can definitely win, so I’m all in on a bet! Loser has to shave one eyebrow!”

“Alright, it’s all set then!” Jobin firmly grasped Josuke’s hand into a shake. “Our beetle’s look pretty similar, but thankfully on that bookshelf I have a promotional sticker sheet from the Fruit Parlor! Mine will be represented by the Parlor logo, and yours will have a star sticker, since you got that birthmark by your neck that looks just like one.”

“One last tip Josuke!” Tsurugi shouted as Josuke had attempted to return down to the secret bunker. “The mandibles of a beetle aren’t made for killing or eating food! They protect their territory! The best way to power up a beetle isn’t to give it food, it's to brush it with female pheromones! Get the brush between the legs of a female and rub it in front of the male!”

“45 seconds on the clock.” Jobin confirmed, referring to a tabletop timer placed in front of the cork arena. “Round one, fight!”

Chapter Text

“Oh shit, they’re already grappling!” Joshu cheered as the four watched the beetles engage in combat like Gods watching the pitiful mortals fight a petty war from atop Mt.Olympus.

Wendy had charged straight at Lisa, pushing immediately to get her opponent pushed out of the ring. Lisa planted her twiggy legs firmly against the cork but could only stop herself from moving back, not push herself back into the middle of the arena.

Filled with resolve, Lisa’s front legs started wildly twitching while she started crying out a high pitched looping cry.

“Hey, is it okay? That doesn’t sound like the type of noise your bugs normally make bro.”

Jobin smiled. “This is a pretty intense fight. Josuke! You sly dog, did you brush female pheromones on your beetle?”

“Come on No.28, flip her over already!” Joshu kept cheering.

The grappling of the two bugs came to a head and Lisa began to buckle under the pressure. Next thing anyone knew a sickening snap echoed through the room as the front half of her right mandible was cut right off!

“No way!” Joshu drummed his palm on the table in excitement. “The mandible went flying off! Ooh, but it’s still holding out!”

Lisa had nearly been flipped off the ring, but held herself in by winding the lining ring around her back two legs, keeping her secured inside.

“You see Gappy? Even though you said your beetle was stronger, I had thoroughly sharpened mine’s mandibles with a nail file, and, well, you can see the result," Jobin gloated.

Wendy continued her all-out assault, beginning to slice into the side of Lisa’s body as she had done earlier to the hornet.

“Jobin’s already won!” Mitsuba cried. “That other one is gonna get its head ripped off!”

“It’s not over yet, Mitsy! Lisa’s feet are still holding firm!”

“Gore! Gore! Gore! Gore!” Joshu chanted like he was at an election campaign in the United States in the year 2000, slamming the table in sync with his rally call.

Josuke looked firm at the fighting beetles, hearing those tiny screams. His beetle was quite literally backed into a corner, but that was exactly how he wanted it.

His final trump card lay within the cork. Festering within its pores were ever-so-small soap bubbles, floating in place and waiting to breach the surface like a pod of whales.

Inside them were the majority of the pheromones Josuke had seemed to brush on his beetle earlier. In truth this had been the strategy all along, to gradually increase his beetle’s strength using his Stand in order to lure Jobin’s into a false sense of superiority.

If he was using his Stand to manipulate the game, maybe Jobin would too.

With newfound motivation, Lisa clamped its mandibles around her opponent. While not sharp enough to cut into her, their worthier grip held Wendy in place as Lisa pushed her up using all the strength in her back and middle legs, hoisting her into the air.

“No way! It got flipped up!” Mitsuba was the first to react.

“Aw man!” Josuke grew cocky. “Someone better start counting to 10!”

Jobin stared down at the arena in shock, unable to formulate a sentence past a “What?” of knee jerk confusion.

“Big bro, you gotta do something!” Joshu begged.

“Joshu you ass, start counting!” Josuke demanded, but soon there was no need, as Jobin’s beetle went tumbling out of the cork and crawled away from it on the table below, leaving Jobin gritting his teeth in shock and shame.

“No way! What the hell happened!” Joshu complained.

“Well well well,” Josuke snapped his fingers at a grimacing Jobin. “It looks like my Dorcus Titanus Palawanicus is the victor! I’m the only winner!”

After a few seconds, Jobin began giggling without a care in the world. With an odd form of pride, he marched back into his bedroom and acquired a straight razor, which he used to firmly shave his left eyebrow off.

“Costiera Amalfitana.” Yasuho stumbled only a little bit over what she thought was way too many As. This was Italian for “Amalfi Coast”, which is where Yasuho was daydreaming about being.

“JoJo told me he met a guy from Italy yesterday,” she mused to herself. His name on her lips brought her down a little bit, as her heart felt incomplete without him being next to her. Without anybody for that matter, as her mother had once again fallen off the radar into a cavalcade of bar hopping and “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!” jokes.

She wondered if it was worth bringing over one of her friends, but she didn’t want to change

Her typical sweater vest was missing, and in its place she donned a tube top which cuddled her chest and left her stomach uncovered. Yasuho normally felt insecure if she let a bare shoulder out, so this was a big step up for her. It was patterned into a grid, each square being composed of blue and white triangles placed across from each other.

“Aw man, I hope it’s not weird if my tummy is spilling out of this,” Yasuho spoke into her phone out of habit, not considering there was actually someone listening inside of it now. She blushed a little bit as she imagined JoJo seeing her in it. She knew he wouldn’t care though. In fact he’d probably say she looked gorgeous in it, and pull her in a really tight snuggle, and kiss her neck a little, and-

She rolled over in her bed, hoping he’d text her soon. Her spirits were lightened a little by her watching skirt flutter, as it had a pattern of pink pixel-esque waves that looked like they were moving up and down every time the fabric moved.

She almost literally leaped onto the floor when the ambience of her thoughts was torn down by a rushed knocking on the door.

She was quite unsure where on the panic scale to place herself as she went to answer. She set the door ajar to find Kei Kira on the other side, setting her more or less in the middle.

“Kei!” Yasuho yelped. She was shushed by the visitor.

“It’s Josuke,” she instantly took to explaining. “He’s cast suspicion on Jobin Higashikata and is trying to trick him into showing his hand, but knowing he’s got half of my brother in him, he’s running too fast into this and he’s gonna get himself killed. What we need is your navigation ability.”

“P-Paisley Park?” Kei nodded as the signature map lines of Yasuho’s Stand appeared creeping down from the girl’s cerulean bangs.

“That Stand has the power to find anything, right? Our goal is the location of the fruit which was in Yotsuyu Yagiyama’s possession.”

“Wait,” Yasuho raised her hand at the elbow to interject. “How did you find my house?”

“Origami Girl,” Kei pointed her thumb behind her, stepping out of place to reveal Tsurugi hiding behind her knees.

“Tsurugi!” Yasuho growled.

“Ah I’m still sorry for what happened the other day!” Tsurugi quickly took to kneeling down and asking for forgiveness. “I don’t know what’s going on between you three, but I really won’t care as long as we can find out about that weird fruit! I really need your help, Auntie Yasuho!”

“Yooo! I mean wow, I kind of look like a glob of vanilla pudding like this.” Jobin admired his right-eyebrowless face in a handheld mirror. Mitsuba deeply sighed while Joshu stammered in shock.

In the blight of Jobin sans eyebrow, they missed out on Josuke receiving a text message, which he took thorough note of before scooping his beetle back into its jar and beginning to leave in the room in false contentment.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Joshu intervened.

“I thought we were done,” Josuke plainly answered. In retaliation, Joshu took it upon himself to lock the bedroom’s door, signifying that he declared Josuke his hostage.

“You ain’t going nowhere, you cheating jackass! I don’t know exactly what yet, but you used some coward’s trick to get my brother’s beetle to cop out like that!” He grabbed Josuke by the collar and drug him back into the beetle room, shoving him over the table.

“Come on Jobin, we gotta hold a trial for this guy!”

“For what?” Mitsuba asked, annoyed, while Jobin watched the scuffle in amusement.

“I got it! He planted female beetle pheromones on his bug with a brush, right?” He slammed Josuke against the table again. “Confess now and maybe we’ll just take away your room instead of throwing you out of the house!”

“Joshu…” Jobin rose with a tone of disappointment. “Jeez, I can’t believe my own blood relative could say such dull things. Looking back, I think we had to have found you under a bridge and taken you home. Everybody knows doping is fair game if you can make it through without getting caught.” Jobin smiled. “You know Gappy, I can’t help but get the impression that this isn’t your first wrangle with stag beetles. Tell me, did you do research ahead of time, you old sea dog?”

“But bro, that bastard was-”

“Ah keep it quiet Joshu,” Jobin mimed a closing mouth with his hands. “Actually no no, don’t keep it quiet. Instead, starting now, I want you to cheer for Josuke’s side.”

“What?” Joshu tried to backpedal unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, it’s no fun to have both people cheering for me. So for round 2, Mitsy will be my cheerleader, but you gotta support Josuke. Lemme hear you say something cool like ‘Yeah go get ‘em JoJo!’”

“Hold on,” Josuke interrupted. “I never said anything about a round 2!”

“Oh… Whaaat!” Jobin put his face to his mouth in genuine shock. “Of course we gotta do another match! Look around at all these stag beetles. This room is a battle arena!”

“But my Palawanicus’ mandible is broken,” Josuke protested.

“You don’t gotta worry about that. Lisa’s already got a taste of victory, so she’s a stronger warrior than ever! Her injury can be repaired, and once it is all that will be on her mind is the emotions of victory!” Jobin kneeled down, carrying himself in a poetic fashion.

“Come on Josuke… Won’t you keep playing with me? We can pretend we’re just two kids in the middle of July. In here, it's like every day is a summer vacation.”

“ Yes… Of course I will, that’s why I came here, ” Josuke thought to himself, looking Jobin not in his eyes, but in the red stripe along his popped hood. “It starts now, beating your ego black-and-blue to draw out your true goal… Jobin Higashikata, just who are you on the inside? ”

“Well alright then, but if we had a second match, what would we bet? Shaving another eyebrow? I guess then it’d match for you if you lost.”

“You’re an interesting guy y’know, way cooler than my little brother. Even though you don’t have any of your own memories, you’ve got a lot of confidence and knowledge. I’ve gained an interest in you, so I’ll tell you that the only thing I want now is the experience of getting to battle you. I just wanna see you down on your knees crying from losing! You, on the other hand, can ask for whatever you please.”

“Whatever I please?” Josuke parroted, pretending to be an innocent puppy.

“Anything,” Jobin confirmed.

“Well then… I want the Golden Lamborghini! Driving in it was so much fun, I want to get behind the wheel myself!”

“I already texted Josuke my plan, so God willing he’s already taken it underway.” Kei had brought Yasuho to their means of transport, a rust red American sports car that looked to be from the 70s. “Ferrari 308 GTB,” Kei proudly announced her ride.

“Oooh man, this car only has two seats! I guess I’ll just have to sit on Auntie Yasuho’s lap,” Tsurugi giggled as Yasuho begrudgingly sat down in the passenger chair, buckled herself in, and wrapped her arm around Tsurugi.

“Watch your feet, Origami Girl. This car is 36 years old. My mom got it from her dad when it was brand new.”

“Speaking of cars, our goal is to get one. I just texted Yoshi-” Kei caught herself, “Josuke my plan, he’s going to try to win the keys to Jobin Higashikata’s Lamborghini in a bet. This is where you come in Yasuho; That car has an internal GPS data recorder which tracks everywhere it goes. Your Paisley Park can siphon all the data out of it, and try to identify any suspicious stops Jobin is making. He and Yotsuyu Yagiyama were allies, if not personally than in a business sense, and they’re bound to have more associates out there.”

Lisa squirmed a bit in Josuke’s hands, he tightened his grip around her as he spread the contents of a small tube of special glue from the cut where her mandible had been severed. He firmly planted her severed weapon along the seam where it had been sliced off, amazed as it settled and seemed completely healed in a manner of minutes.

“Thanks for getting me this glue stuff, Joshu, you’re a great partner!”

Joshu mumbled in spite as he took the glue tube back from Josuke.

Jobin threw a set of car keys down on the table with glee. “Well then, that car costs 30 million yen, but if your Dorcus titanus palawanicus can really win this next fight, the car is yours!”

It worked. Josuke kept the intention behind his next step to victory hidden.

“Oh man, even the key design is so cool! I can’t wait to drive this Lamborghini, even though I don’t have a license.”

“Don’t touch the key yet!” Joshu ordered, to a disapproving glare from his sister in-law.

“This here…” Jobin paused to make his onlookers shiver with anticipation, as he reached into a noticeably large tank and produced another beetle. “...is the Golden Stag Beetle, an Allotopius rosenbergi . You can call her Rose. She took three months to reach adulthood.”

“Goodness!” Mitsuba, for the first time during the game, seemed unironically impressed. “It looks like it’s made of solid gold!” Her description wasn’t off in the slightest, as Josuke himself could see that all 79.1 millimeters of the bug looked like it had been dipped in molten metal.

“The horns are like those of an Oni, with mandibles that curve outward.” Jobin smiled. “This will be my warrior for the second round.”

“Hey Josuke,” Joshu slapped him on the shoulder to bring him aside. “You aren’t gonna be able to beat this one, man! I’m not just saying that, if you agree to this fight your beetle is screwed!”

“Huh, no way! That one’s mandibles are way shorter than mine’s are!”

“But you see how much weight they got at the base,” Joshu urged.

“Damn it Joshu, try being supportive!” Jobin growled.

Joshu argued, “But an important element of a partnership is being able to reign in your friend when they’re in over their head!”

“Too many big words,” Jobin shook his head. “I wanna hear some cheering from there.”

“Uh… Go get’em! Yaya!” Joshu tried to sound excited.

“Jeez man, I hate to criticize you over every little thing like this, but you still sound like we’re betting on which paint drop dries first!” Mitsuba complained, having started to get in on the fun. “At least make it personal, cheer for Josuke specifically. Once you go into society, mistakes like this aren’t gonna be tolerated by everybody like they are by me.”

Just to spite his sister in-law, Joshu managed to dial his enthusiasm up to 11. “Ha! Josuke and Lisa are gonna chop that tiny little Rosenbergi up into bite sized pieces!”

“That one’s pretty good, Joshu. Keep it up,” Jobin thumbs upped.

“Now that I’m looking at it, man, Josuke’s Palawanicus really is that much bigger…” Seeing Rose scurry about, Joshu estimated its entire body to only have the same mass as Lisa’s head.

“Hey Jobin,” Josuke called out. “You still haven’t made clear what your side of the bet is!”

“Oh yeah, that, I’ve decided-” Jobin stuck his tongue out at Josuke, his words mildly impaired by it remaining pointed as he talked, “I’m gonna lick your eyeball! Just the one, I wanna lick while it’s all the way open!”

Mitsuba wondered what the hell was wrong with her husband as he wiggled his tongue about.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mitsy. You’re just jealous that you aren’t the one who’s gonna get licked.” Mitsuba’s face turned like a red light.

“Not worth anything, but it’s super gross right! Haha, this really gives that iconic summer vacation vibe!”

“We will now place our beetles in the ring, and the fight will begin when they lock mandibles! As before, the round has a time cap of 45 seconds. The first beetle to drive their opponent out of the ring, hold their opponent up for a count of 10 seconds, or kill their opponent outright, is the victor!”

…

“And they’re locked!”

Chapter Text

Lisa instantly began squirming as she tried to use her greater mass to overpower the opposing rosenbergi, but the smaller beetle used its superior body leverage to grip its scissors-like mandibles across where Lisa’s had been severed before.

“Josuke! That thing’s mandibles are like saw blades! It’s gonna grind apart Lisa’s bad horn!” Joshu seemed to be getting a little excited about what was ostensibly a warning. “Oh man, I hate to see it, but I just can’t look away!”

“See, big bro was a dumbass for asking me not to cheer for him. I’m way cooler than Mitsuba, she hasn’t said anything! If I were over there, I could’ve chronicled that Rosenbergi’s entire lifespan by now! ” Joshu thought to himself. “ Hey wait a minute! Did he tell me to be on Josuke’s side so I wouldn’t blurt out all the feats of the rosenbergi to him? ”

“Don’t give up hope yet, Joshu,” Josuke slammed his hand on the table, determined yet. “Look! My beetle is using its superior horn length to grab at the Rosenbergi’s throat!”

“Jobin, your beetle is running away from Josuke’s!” Jobin seemed uncharacteristically uncaring as Mitsuba warned him. “It’s being pushed out of the ring!”

With its back four limbs hanging off the edge, Rose suddenly curled up her front legs and made the push to flip Lisa onto her back. The larger beetle seemed stunned as it did nothing to fight back.

“Oh shit! It’s on her back! Josuke’s beetle is flipped over!” Joshu stared in awe.

“It’s not moving at all!” Mitsuba commented with mild concern.

Josuke climbed out of his seat and went for the cork ring with a brush in hand.

“Hold on there Gapster. You're free to act with the brush, but if it makes contact with either beetle it’s automatic forfeit!” Jobin shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“Ugh… You didn’t mention that before. Jobin… What did you do to my beetle? ” Josuke thought.

“Rose is climbing on top of her! Dear God he just chopped her leg off! Oh the humanity!” Joshu bellowed as he tracked every twitch of a leg with his eyes.

“No way! Come on! She’s moving again!” Josuke pleaded. His hope didn’t last long, as Rose tossed Lisa outright to the ring’s rush rim. The star-branded beetle held on for dear life with only a single leg.

And with that action, Josuke’s victory began.

It was there, around Jobin Higashikata’s right arm: An nearly imperceptible aura, a ghostly duplicate arm reaching out from his body.

“God damn, there it is! Just in case I had any doubts left, it's certain now: Jobin Higashikata really is a Stand user !” Josuke slammed on the table to reassert himself.

“Joshu, quick, get me one of those guidebooks on the shelf over there. Now!”

“Huh?”

“Get it! The Illustrated Insect Guide!”

Once Josuke had the book in his hands, he flipped through the pages, scanning the words printed in them and taking note of each picture with astounding speed, until he came across just the information he was looking for.

“Right here,” Josuke pointed to the text accompanying a diagram of a wild beetle being assaulted by a predatory bird.

“‘When beetles get strong shocks to their joints, they instinctively play dead, assuming a state of imitating a corpse in order to dissuade attackers from taking note of them.’”

“The rosenbergi is going in for the kill, gore warning gore warning!”

Josuke stood as triumphant as ever, for Jobin had just fallen into his trap. “The way those legs on the Rosenbergi keep kicking, it’s so rhythmic, almost mechanical. This is Jobin Higashikata’s power, I know it! ” Josuke thought to himself.

Joshu tried shouting something about the Palawanicus getting more legs chopped off, but everybody's attention was instead captured by a revolting dripping sound, a series of gooey glubs coming from the rosenbergi.

“What the heck? Something’s really wrong here, I have to defend! Joshu’s right, if its legs aren’t cut off then it’ll be paralyzed again !”

“Waaah! Josuke! It’s leg just got snapped, and it fell out of the ring! I’m sorry bro, but you just lost!” Your beetle is retired without a doubt!”

“Joshu, you moron, can’t you keep track of time. We’ve already gone over the 45 second timer, that match is null and void,” Jobin objected.

“Well Josuke, you only got saved by the bell huh? That Palawanicus of yours is definitely outma-” Joshu was stopped by the dagger glare of his older brother, which sent a chill through Joshu even in its current one-eyelashed state. “-tched… I mean match! This match is sure to be a good one, huh Josuke?” Your power-packed Palawanicus had the advantage in strategy for sure, so let’s go Palawanicus! Woo….”

Josuke disregarded Joshu outright and instead went for a brush on the table.

“Hey, that’s Jobin’s brush,” Mitsuba informed him, yet he failed to stop.

“Well Josuke, are you cracking up under the pressure?” Jobin laughed, oblivious to the tiny bubbles spinning between Josuke’s fingers. “Or are you trying to fuss out if I cheated somehow?”

“No, not really. I’m just trying to dig out a tick I saw on my beetle here.”

“A tick? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ah Jobin, we’ve known each other barely two days and yet you can already read me like a book. Truth is I already know you cheated, and I think your wife there saw it too. There was a hole stabbed in your beetle’s back, and some kind of liquid came oozing out of it during the fight!”

“What kind of bullshit?” Joshu broke his assigned character again, “You think just because your beetle got its ass kicked you can make up random alle-”

“Good eye Josuke, I’ll tell you the facts. What you saw was wax, the kind you use to polish shoes or a baseball glove. I cut into my beetle’s armor just behind its brain with a narrow screwdriver, and packed in some wax near where its nerves are. When the wax melts, it causes predictable muscle spasms. There are parasites which take over insect bodies using the same principles.”

“You carved a hole in its back? And that doesn’t kill it?” Mitsuba questioned, displaying her ignorance of what comes of her lover being pushed to his limits.

“Oh yeah Mitsy, it’ll die, but not for another 20 minutes or so. We have enough time to finish the game.” Jobin laughed wildly as he shoved in more wax. “Well Josuke, you can wax your beetle too if you want. Hurry it up though, it’s time to place them back in the ring!”

The beetles resumed sparring to the expected fanfare of Joshu and Jobin, but Josuke’s attention had been drawn away from them for only a moment, as he watched a distinct star-marked bubble float behind their oblivious selves.

The bubble made its way to the wall mounted thermometer on the far end of the room, smacking open against the bottom and coating it in the empty air it had contained. The thermometer went up to 60 degrees Celsius, and Josuke watched in wonder as the mercury instantly began climbing to the top temperature marks.

“That air was sampled from Jobin’s brush, what’s going on? Why is that brush so hot?” Josuke already knew the answer as soon as his thoughts were finished.

“Lisa’s running!”

“Huh?” Josuke snapped back to reality to face Joshu screaming in his ear, as he leapt to watch the Jobin's side of the arena, beside Mitsuba.

“The Palawanicus! Your beetle turned on its side and is fleeing the arena!”

The thermometer had quickly dropped back down, prompting Josuke to direct another bubble to it. This one contained the air from around Jobin’s rosenbergi, and was released onto the thermometer to the same result.

“It’s happening right now! His Stand power is generating 60 degrees of heat!”

Josuke looked down at the miniature fighting pit to see the lovely Rose speeding up its actions in response to the drooling wax coming out of its back. Rose slammed into Lisa at mach speed, tearing off her previously severed mandible and one of her wings to boot.

“That rosenbergi is on a rampage!” Mitsuba gasped. “Its nerves must be going extra crazy.”

“Because of wax that’s extra melted,” Josuke thought.

A final bubble spun itself to life within the cork, flying out with Josuke’s hand for cover as it went around the entire table to check its temperature.

“That one is reading normally. It’s not the entire area around the beetles that’s been heated, just the one spots on the rosenbergi, and on his brush,” Josuke mentally concluded.

“Josuke dude! Your fighter is getting torn apart! She just lost another leg - oh shit! The rosenbergi flipped her over! You’re screwed beyond belief!”

Two days ago, Josuke witnessed death as an action, for Yotsuyu Yagiyama had perished before his very eyes.

Now, Josuke witnessed Death as a figure, and it had appeared behind Jobin.

Jobin’s Stand appeared for barely a second, but just the flash of it seared into Josuke’s eyes.

It took the form of a man who had been burned alive, its body lacking in skin instead presented dried up, blistered muscle. Its arms and legs were torn apart at the joints and forced back together by royal purple machinery. The eyes were torn out and replaced with empty gauges, which were welded into a thin pair of goggles planted on top of its hooked nose. Placed on its head was a biker hat mounted in place by a pair of metal handle bars stuck where its ears should've been, and its hole-adorned chin was framed by two metallic horns.

Its neck seemed wrapped in a trail of bandages which tailed off to a fleshy collar which eerily mimicked Jobin’s own hood. Below its chest any semblance of an organic body was lost, and instead its torso was merely a hollow frame built from steel beams bolted together. Rather than hips, two giant apparatuses screwed its charred legs to the body.

Before it vanished, Josuke swore he saw it point its horrifically blistered, sizzling fingers straight at him and open its gritted teeth to let out a silent scream.

“Hey Josuke, it’s okay. It’s upsetting to see your beetle get beat up like that, but you seem really panicked,” Mitsuba commented.

“Man, I just can’t take it anymore! That rosenbergi is too badass! Bro you definitely win!” Joshu’s cheering was cut short when his foot bumped into something on the floor.

“Hey Joshu,” Jobin chastised the sight, “don’t leave that container with the hornet in it lying about like that! I only put in one so it’s okay, but what if there was a colony in there and they all escaped?”

“Aw come on, I didn’t do that Bro! You gotta believe me!”

“Hey wait a minute,” Mitsuba interjected. “Where’s the other half of that hornet? The beetle split it in two, but only the front half is in the tank!”

“Other half?” Josuke sarcastically asked. “You mean like the stinger that’s full of venom? I think I see it right here next to me,” he laughed, pointing to the dismembered abdomen which was placed in front of his spot on the table. Jobin began sweating bullets.

“If you remember when I tried brushing for ticks, I accidentally grabbed your brush right? That brush which you shoved straight in your beetle before piling wax into it?”

“You bastard!” Jobin pounded both hands on the table at full force, anger heating up in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you..”

The fight came to a climax as the rosenbergi began spasming too wildly for it to control itself. Lisa used all her remaining strength to launch a counterstrike at Rose, crushing her against the ring with her one remaining mandible under her armor cracked apart and she lay dead in a pool of melted wax mixed with her own blood.

“...You laced my wax brush with hornet venom!” Jobin growled.

“Sorry to have outplayed you like that Jobin, but I’m a person who can never have the intention of losing. I’m the only winner!” Josuke raised his hand arm triumphantly, before snatching his prize from the table. “And my reward is your Lamborghini!”

“Not so fast!” Jobin demanded. “Get your mind off that damn phone and shut that door! You came in here with the intention of setting me up, bastard! Who the hell are you?”

“Jobin! What’s wrong with you!” Mitsuba lightly slapped him across the cheek. “I’m sorry Josuke, he’s kind of a man baby when it comes to this.”

The metal ridges of the car keys pressing against Josuke’s hand disappeared as they were coiled into one of his bubbles and floated out of sight.

“ Yasuho… Kei… The rest is up to you now. The story behind my past, and the identity of that fruit, it all comes down to what’s been going on with Jobin and that car. What I’m giving to you is our ticket to the truth.”

Kei’s Ferrari squealed to a halt outside of the Higashikata house, the trio of Josuke’s allies leaping out of their seats.

“He just sent me a text message; The keys are coming out of that window!”

Yasuho lifted Tsurugi high into the air, and the child grasped the bubble floating towards her until it popped apart in her palm.

“We did it! It’s the keys!”

“Right, now we can get into that car’s location records,” Kei affirmed.

“Uh, about that,” Yasuho put her hand to her forehead in embarrassment. “You guys kept talking about how I can use my power to help, but… I don’t really know how to use it. Every time Paisley Park has just shown up on her own.”

“You can do it. Just look inside yourself and call for it,” Kei assured her.

“Inside myself, right,” Yasuho inhaled deeply before trying. “Paisley Park!”

She pointed her arm out, but nothing happened.

“Paisley uh… Oh come on!” Yasuho whipped open the Higashikatas’ garage door in frustration, and almost fell backwards when Paisley Park appeared, in full glory, standing inside.

“Alright Auntie Yasuho! That’s your Stand right? I can tell because it has your hair.”

“Paisley Park, I-I did it!” Yasuho beamed.

Her Stand reached her hand out to Tsurugi, plunging her hand into the key fob as it lost its shape. Her entire head collapsed in on itself and folded and stretched into a big globe, which started zooming close into the streets around Morioh.

Kei admired the info-gatherer’s feat. “Incredible; It’s projecting the data just from connecting to the keys.”

Jobin stood before Josuke, sizing him up like a vicious predator going in for an afternoon meal. “Hey Josuke, you’re sweating bullets there. Can I offer you a tissue to wipe your face with?” Jobin ripped one from a box and placed it in Josuke’s hand for him. “You didn’t come in here just to get a joy ride, I know it. Who really are you anyhow?”

“I, uh, I mean you’re the one who gifted me the Palawanicus to begin with.”

“Not that. Don’t worry, the contract from the stag beetle bet is still good, I just think there was an underlying motivation for your actions here.”

Joshu butted in again. “Yeah, you’re trying to steal everything.”

“Hey Joshu, keep your trap shut! The grown ups are trying to talk.” Jobin concentrated his gaze straight into Josuke’s split eyes. “Are you really still clueless as to where you came from?”

Josuke wasn’t sure of his next move, but Kei and Tsurugi had gotten the key with Yasuho, so he already "won" this encounter. All he needed was a way to escape suspicion.

“Hey Josuke, your nose is bleeding,” Mitsuba pointed out.

“Huh?” Josuke was completely caught off guard as a small trickle of blood started suddenly gushing out of his nose.

“Shit! My face feels hot! I think I just burst a blood vessel.”

“Ah man, you better take another tissue.” Jobin taunted as he held the box out.

The tissues, coming from Jobin, causing a nosebleed when they touched his face.

Jobin was attacking him.

“Come on man, stop hesitating about everything and just wipe your face off! We can keep talking, I wanna know: Did anybody help you prepare to come in here? Someone helped you with your strategy! Who told you I like beetles, huh?”

“You dumbass,” Josuke answered while trying to contain his out of control nosebleed. “You’re the one who gave me the beetle!”

“You think so? Nobody told you that my emotional weakness is in the beetles? And why won’t you wipe your face? You’re getting covered in blood.”

Josuke was saved by water, which erupted down from the ceiling. The air around Jobin’s tissue was so hot it had melted the stoppers on the room’s sprinklers, wetting down everybody’s hair and causing a distraction for Josuke to flee.

“What happened? Why are the sprinklers going off?” Mitsuba asked, enraged at her hair being ruined. “Those things don’t go off unless the room reaches 70 degrees!”

“That beetle fight… was it really a Stand battle? ” Jobin thought to himself and the three exited the room. “Someone is guiding him, I’m sure of it. Daiya… Hato… Pops… Did one of them sell me out? ”

While Jobin tried calculating Josuke's motivations, his little brother had delayed in leaving the room, letting his hair get soaked for a second while he had a troubled thought of his own.

"I know it... I saw something coming out of big bro..." Joshu looked down at his hand, which was glowing with the purple aura of his Stand. "Nut King Call, does Jobin have one of you guys too? Shit, does everybody? Was I the last one and nobody told me?!"

Paisley’s head had displayed a map of every road in Morioh, and diagrammed the car making trip after trip from the Higashikatas Manor to the family Fruit Parlor.

“Hey, what the heck! Ms.Nijimura, this location data doesn’t show the car going anywhere other than from our house to our shop and back!”

“Come on, Origami Girl, think. Is there any way your dad could’ve been going to a lab or a farm somewhere?”

“Guys, you don’t get it. He didn't need to travel anywhere else,” Yasuho explained. “Everyday, at the same time, he stops at an intersection along the route. It’s happening there!”

“Get out!” Kei barked as she pulled Yasuho and Tsurugi out of the garage to the other side of the wall. Paisley Park floating behind them, they ended up just along the edge of the outside door frame, with only a screen door separating them from the inside. At that moment, Jobin entered from the house, giving a suspicious stare across the room.

“Oh no! My dad’s gonna find out I’ve been snooping.”

“Calm down Tsurugi. As long as there’s a truth to be uncovered we have to keep our heads up.”

Kei’s phone buzzed. “Hey! It’s a text from Josuke,” she whispered.

“What does it say?”

“‘Don’t take anything from Jobin. His Stand is making things heat up.’”

“Heat up?”

“This is bad, he’s still coming towards us. If we’re found out I might be forced to take out Born This Way,” Kei gritted.

Thankfully, they were saved before he made it outside.

“Jobin!” It was Hato, whose high heeled boots came furiously clicking into the garage. “What the heck is going on here?”

“Hato? What are you doing?”

“Leashing you back in, that's what,” she pouted angrily. “You’re acting like a loony again because of your stupid bugs dying, come back in and apologize to Josuke!”

Jobin stared at the door for what seemed like an eternity, but relented and followed Hato back inside the house.

Yasuho breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Oh my God that was close.”

“Was that a lucky coincidence? Or was my Aunt Hato helping us?” Tsurugi pondered.

“Worry about that later, for now look at this,” Yasuho proudly showed her phone screen, which was displaying time lapse footage of a traffic stop.

“That's security footage,” Kei pointed out. “Did you find that with your Stand?”

"Mhm!” Yasuho cheered for herself.

“Wow Auntie Yasuho, you’re really incredible!”

“Now look here, everyday at 16:00. Jobin stops, and then this guy approaches him with a flower pot!”

As she described, the feed showed Jobin looking impatiently out his window while a meerkat-like man with a sweater tied around his breast sheepishly approached him, carrying a large tree blooming with oddly shaped fruits.

“We did it! That’s Jobin Higashikata’s partner!” Kei checked her watch, seeing it was 14:47 at present. “We have to find him now before Jobin can reach him today!”

Inside the house, Daiya and Hato both playfully comforted Josuke, portraying him as a victim of unjust abuse from their brothers.

“Damn it, something happened here just now. Yotsuyu was in our orchard recently, I’m sure of it, and now someone’s meddling in my car, the one I used to meet Aisho. This is all because of what they did to Yoshikage Kira, and now the other one is here calling himself ‘Josuke’, and he’s… ”

Chapter Text

“So, you’re sure it’s everyday?”

“Positive. Everyday, about 16:30, he comes by this intersection, with or without Jobin being there to meet him.”

Yasuho and Tsurugi had perched themselves on the expansive roof of a derelict office complex, preparing to stake out their new target with a pair of mid tier binoculars hastily purchased from a sporting goods store with Tsurugi’s generous allowance.

“Well, I found some information about the guy,” Kei informed them over the phone as she slithered through traffic in her Ferrari, trying to reach the duo after concluding a work day at the Higashikata residence. Thanks to the meddling of his sisters, Jobin had cooled down after his near outburst upon suspecting Josuke of outfoxing him in a game of beetles, but it remained Kei’s advisory that the sailor boy himself stay out of the investigation until nightfall.

“His name is Aisho Dainenjiyama. He’s 29, single, and lives at Morioh 846-6. He’s employed by the Mori Stadium, which is just across from you guys.”

“Woah! Is he a pro baseball player?” Tsurugi excitedly asked.

“Not quite, Origami Girl. He’s only a security guard, although it appears that despite a meager wage he managed to buy some stake in the management of our very own Seiten Birdies.”

“Right,” Yasuho followed along Kei’s train of thought. “You’re thinking he’s getting extra income from whatever transactions he’s dealing with Jobin, and used that to buy his way into the Birdies’ management?” 

“You got it. That was a few months before the earthquake happened, but here comes the smoking gun.” 

“Smoking gun?”

Kei eagerly hyped up her own discovery. “That building you’re in now, it’s abandoned because the owners were driven out of business because of the tsunami, isn’t that right?” 

“Uh, yeah I’d guess so,” Yasuho answered, fidgeting with the straps of her laptop bag.

“That whole lot is on low elevation land, so it got horribly torn up by the tsunami. That included the stadium, but it had the powerhouse of the Birdies’ investors to build right back up.  The stadium was renovated with new elements to better withstand the dangers of its location, and those renovations were designed by none other than Yotsuyu Yagiyama.”

“Tsuyu!” Tsurugi gasped. “No way! That guy built the Stadium!”

“Josuke found out that somebody saw Jobin and Yotsuyu commit a murder… around 3 years ago, but there was a third person with them too,” Yasuho summarized. “This Aisho, he’s probably their third wheel! They’ve been partners like this for that long!”

“Aisho is probably a ‘Rock Human’ too, just like Yotsuyu was,” Kei added. “And there’s not a doubt in my mind that he’s a Stand user, so you two err on the side of caution until I get there, got it?”

“Right..” Yasuho trailed off as she squinted across the street through her binoculars. “Well, he’s already here.”

Aisho was a squirrely looking fellow wearing salmon cargo shorts and a over very dark blue jumpsuit; He stood out from the crowd with ease thanks to his teal dyed woolen sweater, which rather than wear as an extra top as was traditional, he had tied over shoulders and around his neck, fashioning the garment into a scarf and a cap at the same time.

Tsurugi started squealing excitedly at her own observation of him. “Hey looksies! He’s got something in a bag! Do you think it’s one of those fruits?”

Kei muttered an expletive over the phone. “Where’s he going? Is anybody else waiting for him?”

Yasuho scanned the people around Aisho: A trio of joggers, a woman pushing a baby carriage, two old men exchanging words on a rusty bench. Aisho calmly stomped past all of them.

“Negatory; He’s heading straight into the park,” Yasuho answered.

“Hey! Hey!” Tsurugi tugged on Yasuho’s arm relentlessly until she gave her her full attention. “I got it! Gimme your phone Auntie Yasuho!”

Yassuho hesitantly handed her phone down to Tsurugi, holding up a “one second” finger to Kei on the other end asking what was happening, as if she could somehow see it.

“If you think about it, both your Paisley Park and my Paper Kingdom can work on this phone here, which means we can make a team combo!”

Yasuho watched as her phone wobbled like lake water that a stone had been skipped on, contorting itself into a crude folded frog, and trying not to get freaked out over what the sight reminded her of. This time, the newly animate subject of the Paper Kingdom had its camera lens prominent sticking out the front of its bottom plane.

“Look! Now we have a camera that can hop after him while we stay up here!” Tsurugi zestily explained. “You brought a computer with you, right? So Paisley Park can transmit the feed back to us!”

Yasuho had to admit, such was a pretty sharp strategy.

Yasuho hastily dug out her laptop and flipped it open. Greeting her and Tsurugi was a spinning globe with abstract, meshy continents rendered in a familiar shade of shining blue. The screen flickered into a view from the ground-up, zooming past dust clouds and stray leaves into a stalker’s view of Aisho.

“Make sure he can’t notice it,” Yasuho stressed, but Tsurugi was already preoccupied in her concerns.

“It’s gone! That bag he had! In just the time between him going into the park and the camera turning on, he ditched it somewhere!”

The frog-phone hopped around, its field of view shifting around left then right in search of the missing bag.

“Look! There it is!” Tsurugi had her face pressed against the screen to the point that her voice was actually a little muffled against it. The tote once held by Aisho layed on the ground, discarded and visually empty. The eye-catching part was the sight immediately next to it: A turned over wheelchair, tossed on its side.

Confused, Yasuho felt her will navigate the frog-phone up to and past the carelessly pitched pair of items.

“There! It really is the fruit!” Behind the bag was about a third of Castleton green fruit laying in its own juices. Its hue reminded her of Joshu's shirt. “What the fudge! He just threw the fruit away!”

“You’re looking at it the wrong way, Tsurugi. That fruit clearly looks like somebody ate it, and someone has to have been using that wheelchair before…”

The frog-phone jumped around the scene until Yasuho and Tsurugi could pick up the sound of crawling behind the bushes. Their magic mobile camera nestled itself in through a wall of leaves to reveal the source.

The two were shocked; Rolling on the ground was an incredibly elderly man, twisting around in discomfort as his frail, skin-and-bones legs became stiff and were overtaken by slate gray discoloration.

“Oh my G-” Tsurugi covered her mouth with her hands. “They’re turning to rock! Is that old guy a Rock Human?”

They continued watching as the old man’s crippled legs became completely petrified, gasping when they crumbled off and left him with clean stumps below his thighs. The man heaved and groaned as fleshy lumps started to bubble out from his stumps, popping out of his smoothed out skin like mushrooms from a damp patch of grass.

“Oh my God!” Yasuho backed herself up against a wall from the shock. “It’s regenerating!”

The protruding stalks of sinew on each side had stitched themselves back together into the crude, misshapen visage of a foot, before straightening themselves out and expanding forward into a full pair of legs at a rate which would earn the envy of any lizard’s tail. With a little hesitation, the man steadied himself up and gave a few testing taps on the ground with his new, peak condition feet. Upon observation that they were indeed stable and fully functional, he gleefully began jogging in place, before moving onward to match pace with the previously seen trio of runners.

“It’s real!” Tsurugi cried over and over. “Yotsuyu never lied to me! The fruit that can cure diseases really does exist!”

“There’s no way…” Yasuho whispered, trying to convince herself. “I-it’s gotta be a new Stand power… right?”

Yasuho and Tsurugi’s Stand team-up kept pace with the old man the whole way along, gradually beginning to transmit the audio of the scene just as the dirt sliding under the excited pounding of his rejuvenated legs had stopped, replaced by the old man eagerly pulling open an ancient car’s door.

“Ahh my love! It’s true! It’s so wonderful!” The old man hoisted his waiting wife into his arms as he swung her and himself around into the back seats, so as to be able to lay with her. 

“Dear! You’re so full of energy!”

“It’s been so long, I feel like a young man again! It’s magnificent!”

Yasuho looked longingly into the old man’s eyes, infinitely wide with excitement. She daydreamed a little about growing old with someone who really loves you like that.

And then his eyes fell out.

There was scarcely anything more complicated about it. That infinite wideness shriveled up into cold stone and bloodlessly crumbled straight out of their sockets.

“My eyes…” The old man briefly lamented before returning to his excited state. “That’s the equivalent exchange! All I have to do is get another Locacaca fruit from that sweater guy! Then I can trade for them again!” he cheered.

“A sweaty guy?” His wife strained her aged ears as her husband rambled on.

“You should eat one too dear, you can fix your hearing! Ha ha! Make love to me dear! Let’s do it ‘til the sun goes down!”

And then they started doing it ‘til the sun goes down.

Yasuho jumped in front of Tsurugi’s young, innocent eyes. Well, considering the last time they met, maybe the innocent part wasn’t entirely right.

“M-move the frog Tsurugi!” Yasuho commanded, scrambling for words. “G-go find the leftover fruit! Look what’s in that bag!”

Grappling with the several traumatizing things they had witnessed, the two blankly watched the camera feed as it inched back towards the old man’s abandoned wheelchair, the stream accented by the occasional audible rocking of a car. 

“Do you really think there’d be any lef-”

Tsurugi was cut off mid sentence as her leg buckled beneath her. 

Yasuho froze. The camera was now suspended midair, and staring straight down it was Aisho Dainenjiyama’s sunken eyes.

“T-Tsur-”

Both girls screamed as it felt like a needle was jabbed straight through their stomachs. Their mixed Stands had been pierced by a slender, sky blue claw emerging from Dainenjiyama’s arm.

“Hey, this is bad! Auntie Yasuho, he figured us out! If he breaks our Stands, it’s gonna be bad news for us!” Tsurugi weakly wheezed her words out as both of them trembled with pain and fear.

“C-call him. Josuke can help us,” Yasuho pleaded.

“Don’t panic like that Yasuho. You forgot, that origami was brought to life by Paper Kingdom…”

“What the hell is this thing?” Aisho Dainenjiyama wiggled the odd, seemingly animate origami frog in his hand, gazing deeply into what appeared to be a camera aperture pointing out the front. “There’s no way right… This isn’t a Stand is it?” Aisho began monologuing out loud without regard for what he was saying, as those close with him would attest was often the case.

“I mean, I by myself am picking up and holding it, which normally shouldn’t be the case, but Yotsuyu did tell me that there’s such things as Stand powers which are bound to normal objects. But then again, this isn’t much of a normal object now is it? It looks like a fuggin’ papercraft but it’s made of metal! I wonder if this thing is a rock animal.”

“He’s just… talking to himself,” Yasuho reassured. “Don’t panic, he doesn’t know what’s going on yet.”

“Hey, I feel damn weird!” Aisho complained to nobody, momentarily letting the origami escape out of his palm. 

“Hey get back here! I wasn’t done wi-” he froze in his tracks. “What the hell…”

There were now dozens of identical copies of that, whatever it was. They were littering the ground in all directions like a bunch of fallen leaves.

“No way no way! This is like the leaves on Deadman’s Curve!” Aisho fished in one of his shorts’ many pockets for his cell phone, quickly redialing the most recent caller.

“The number you attempted to reach is not turned on, or is currently in a location where a connection can not be made. If you would like to leave a messa-”

“Are you shitting me!?” Aisho angrily cut off the robotic woman’s voice informing of his failed phone call. He fumed as his thumbs smacked against his phone’s keyboard, repeating every word back to himself as he typed them.

“Yotsuyu you perfumey slop jockey, pick up your phone.”

“Dude something is going on at the stadium park.”

“Yotsuyu.” 

“Yotsu.”

“Hello.”

“H.”

Aisho growled at the continued lack of replies. “Why!? Now!? Of all times! Yotsuyu always has his phone on! I swear if he really ran off with one of his fancy high class art broads… Yeah, that’s it.” Aisho tried to calm himself. “Yotsuyu is just playing too good for me to impress his date, duh! Right, right, right… Right?” 

As per usual, Aisho lost track of if he was talking out loud or not.

“Move, Yasuho, move!” Tsurugi urged. “That guy’s under Paper Kingdom’s power now, I made all of the leaves look like our Stands; He can’t find the real origami!”

Yasuho stumbled her way up, scooping Tsurugi up and slinging her on one hip and their computer on another as she dashed to start making her way back down the desolate staircase of their lookout.

“Come on! We gotta call JoJo!” Yasuho panted.

“With what? I don’t think that guy has a Facebook.” Tsurugi retorted, her head bobbing around in Yasuho’s hold like a buoy sticking out of harsh ocean waves. “We need to get the phone back first, and even then we should really just call Ms.Nijimura shouldn’t we?”

“Right!” Yasuho suddenly stopped, leaving Tsurugi a bit dizzy. “Where’s the frog-phone now? That guy didn’t follow it did he?”

“No way Auntie Yasuho, Paper Kingdom totally disoriented him! There’s no way he could know which one was real and not just a leaf,” Tsurugi assured. “Paisley Park should be leading the real one safely back to us any minute now!”

A few minutes felt like an entirety to the end of time as they continued climbing down, but eventually a gentle hop-hop-hop determinedly met them about halfway down.

“Alright, alright.” Yasuho’s breath felt heavy. She reached out for her transmogrified phone before yanking her arm back with a panicked recollection.

“Tsurugi, take your Stand off of it now.”

“But maybe that Aisho guy will-”

“Now!”

As the phone folded back into the shape of a phone, Paisley Park ejected herself from its confines. Floating on the light before their eyes, she raised her arm up just before it exploded and unfurled its amorphous structure, rebuilding itself into a plainly rectangular screen displaying a log of names and times.

“Oh…?” Yasuho grabbed Paisley Park’s remaining hand, and came to understand what her Stand was displaying as it phased back into her.

“Hey, this is the data off of Aisho Dainenjiyama’s electronic keycard; It’s showing who used their employee access to the stadium and when. Aisho went in and out of a certain storage room that doesn't seem to get used often, only nine minutes ago…”

“Hey, that was just before he left!” Tsurugi went along with Yasuho’s findings. “If he came out of work carrying a stash of that fruit to sell, then does that mean he’s hiding it in the stadium?”

“Come on,” Yasuho smiled, newly confident as she opened her phone contact for Kei Kira. “We gotta get Josuke and Ms.Nijimura, and then we can go to the stadium ourselves!”

“What - and forgive my language around the girl - in the hell happened to you?” Kei demanded over the phone, before Yasuho recapped the immediately preceding events to her.

Kei’s reaction could've been better. 

“Ugh, you two were just kind of morons, you know that?”

“I knooooow,” Yasuho cried in apology. Tsurugi seemed rather unphased.

“I can see the building now, just stay there and I’m coming up. If you hear anybody coming: Hide.” Kei’s domineering instructions almost made Yasuho say yes ma’am. “And stay on the phone this time.”

“Hey Auntie Yasuho.” Yasuho nearly jumped at Tsurugi’s sudden tugging on her skirt. “Is it just me, or does it seem foggy in here?”

“Foggy?”

Her word choice wasn’t quite on point, but Yasuho got what she meant. The air around them seemed thick, like it had clumped up and you could stab into it with a fork.

Astoundingly, that seemed to be exactly what was happening.

Right before their eyes, a miniature tornado spiraled into existence on the stair railing before them. It exponentially grew in size, flailing tendrils of wind whooshing about before getting spun into its tight cone.

Yasuho and Tsurugi couldn’t do anything but back themselves up against the wall as their breaths seemed to be sucked right out of them.

“T-Tsurugi! Where’d that thing come from!”

Kei’s foot pushing her gas pedal against the speed limit could almost be sensed over the phone. “What’s happening?”

“The air.” Yasusho’s throat felt empty, like she was running out of places for the sound of voice to go. “Something is making the wind blow in here and turn into a vortex!”

The tornado inched its way over to the duo, the slightest part of its circumference making contact with Tsurugi’s leg.

She screamed.

Blood met the cold floor, the wind swirling over and over to infinity had formed a razor sharp edge that tore Tsurugi’s skin apart effortlessly.

Chapter Text

“Wind!?” Kei decided what to do instantly, even though it wasn’t the ideal move. “Tsurugi!” she screamed over the phone. “Go over to a window and lift it open! Now!”

Unable to walk on her own, Yasuho reached Tsurugi over to one of the dozen windows lining their environment, and her small arms managed to edge it open. All the while, the cutting whirlwind was hot on their tail, closer and closer to tearing into them again.

The room turned astoundingly cold.

The stairs behind Yasuho and Tsurughi rocked and rumbled as a two-wheeler tank came speeding down them, revved up by an impenetrably armored rider. Its engine soared as everything around it was knocked forward, the tornado being flushed away and ripped open by the freezing currents.

“That’s the Stand!” Tsurugi frightfully exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not our enemy, that’s Ms.Nijimura’s power,” Yasuho assured.

As the motorcycle Stand skidded into front of them, the vortex started to reform out of the generated wind, four times bigger than it had been previously.

Tsurugi screamed and pointed. “Now it’s just getting bigger!” 

From floor to roof the tornado waved around, ready to strike again with deadly force.

And then stopped.

Every part of its structure was suddenly stuck in place as crystal clear ice froze around it.

“Born This Way: Road to Love! The tornado is frozen in place!” Kei proudly announced. “Now get out of there, quick! Come meet me at the floor level!” 

Yasuho took only one look more as the dreadful whirlwind before taking off with Tsurugi. With it still, she could now see a figure inside of it. A pale blue body with sharp spear-tipped arms and a torso that tailed off like a genie. At its center was a single eye like that of a scuba diver, crowned by four knobs on what could be considered its head. Two horns protrude from the sides of its head and another stuck out below the eye. Similar eyes were positioned in its center and on its shoulders. Its movements produced a ping similar to a submarine radar.

“What the hell!” Aisho screamed at no one. “It froze! Who the hell can just freeze the wind!”

Around Aisho’s head had appeared a small, ear mounted radar screen, invisible to everybody around him. “Well, at least I got a visual on them now. It’s some schizo looking broad and a kid! And that almost definitely means they’re working for somebody else! Fuckers!”

Splat. Drip. Dripch.

“H-huh?”

Birds cawed and flew away. His heart beat slowed.

Drip drip drip drip drip.

Babump babump babump babump .

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Get up! Get up! You’re gonna drown! Aisho! If you don’t wake up you’re gonna get buried alive!”

“Hah!” Aisho had fallen to all fours, attracting a couple stares from people around him.

"Oh, it's just bird shit." Aisho awkwardly wiped a white stain out of his shirt.

“Yotsuyu, you helped me before, you wouldn’t have fallen asleep or gone into hiding now,” Aisho looked up to the sky as he staved back tears. “Those bastards got to you, right? I’m not gonna get to see you again, huh. They were trying to get to me, and you tried to stop them until the very end. This town… Weird things are going on here, but I’m glad you let me come.”

Aisho fished in his pockets and reeled in a bottle of Kyushin heart tonic pills. He slammed the open cap against his palm, disappointed to see only a single round pill fall onto his hand.

“Oh come on! Now I'm really pissed! Yotsu, I’m gonna avenge you! I’ll kill those tramps myself! ‘Doobie Wah’!”

“Come on! I can see her car!” Yasuho was still mostly dragging Tsurugi as they made their escape from the lookout building. 

“What now? We gotta get Josuke, I need to go get a fruit from the stadium!” Tsurugi pleaded.

“Shush up, our top priority has to be getting the hell away from Aisho! It seems like he has the same type of Stand as Born This Way, which I think means it has to have a trigger.” 

“Trigger?”

“Ms.Nijimura’s Stand, it activates when you open something, like a door or a window,” Yasuho recounted. “Something like that.”

With tremendous relief, Kei’s Ferrari pulled up in front of Yasuho and Tsurugi, and she rushed them into the back seat.

“So, in the end, Yotsuyu Yagiyama wasn’t lying to Tsurugi. There really is a fruit that has something to do with the Rock Syndrome, right?” Kei interrogated as she drove wherever the road willed her.

“Well, there’s a something that has to do with the Rock Syndrome,” Yasuho countered, “in the end we never did get a clear look at whatever it was.”

“No no! Didn’t you listen to that old man, Auntie Yasuho? He said it was a Locacaca Fruit!” Tsurugi beamed.

“Locacaca?”

“That fruit, it’s gonna be my power! Even if you ignore my family’s disease, that thing is simply incredible!”

“It reminds me of the Wall Eyes,” Kei added. “But instead of an exchange between two things, it restores one thing in exchange for another part of the same being.”

“Do you think if I ate it, I could get free from the Rock Syndrome? Maybe I’d lose my eyes or something, but that’s okay! Auntie Daiya is blind but she’s still really awesome. Either way, I wonder why daddy never talked about it, if he’s partners with Tsuyu and that Aisho guy.”

“Kei…” Yasuho reached her hand to her shoulder and covertly whispered while Tsurugi was lost in her thoughts. “What does this all mean… for your mom?”

Kei stayed silent, but Yasuho saw her hands tense on the steering wheel.

When you’re a mother, you come to dread silence. Yelling, screaming, crying, banging, coming from the other room? Those can all be bad. But silence, that’s really bad.

Kei and Yasuho knew this instinctively, and it took them only a second each to notice Tsurugi’s motor mouthing had been suddenly cut off.

Her pupils were shrunken with terror. The very breath from her longs was being suctioned out of her throat to behind her ear, where it was caught in a forming funnel of razor sharp air.

Yasuho screamed and Kei slammed on the brakes, earning them a chorus of angry car horns around them.

Yasuho yanked Tsurugi towards her and rushed her door open, tumbling out of the car and scraping her knees on the asphalt.

“It-” Tsurugi took panicked, shallow breaths, tears welling in her eyes. “It came out of my breath! It’s coming from our breath!” she wailed as she was dragged subtly back towards the vortex Stand. Tightly pressing her hand against her mouth and nose, her movement ceased as she scrambled to get as far away as she could manage before taking another breath.

“C-Call Josuke!” Yasuho begged Kei, before adopting a similar tactic, jumping onto a medium with Tsurugi. She was losing control of her own breathing because of her sheer terror, causing a positive feedback loop of the ethereal Stand constantly appearing right before her eyes, taking wild stabs at her or trying to rip open her skin with its impossibly fast circling wind. 

“Jooobin.” Hato swayed over to her older brother and his wife, sitting at the kitchen table, and dove her hand into his pocket. “I’m borrowing your phone, it’s the best to take photos with.”

“Hey!” Jobin protested, but Hato was already walking away. “Don’t go snooping on there, nosy!”

Hato returned to her bedroom, to Daiya who was waiting on her bed, dolled up in an excessively pink cutesy outfit.

“Alright come on, take one of you and me, then we should have one with Josuke!” Daiya perked up on the bed, waiting for the touch of her sister’s arm around her.

Alas, that wait was intercepted by ringing.

“Ringing”, which was to say some lame mecha show theme song Jobin had set as his ringtone.

“Oooh, look Daiya, someone’s calling him.”

“Ah man, you gotta pick up! I bet it’s his exotic insect salesman!”

Hato answered the phone, clicking it on speaker so Daiya - and the rest of the house - could hear.

“Hey, hey!” An aggressive but powerless voice came from the other end, like the human version of a kitten chasing a laser pointer.

“Hello?” Hato answered in a bad impression of Jobin, making her sister burst out laughing.

“You ruined it!” Hato complained.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Who in the hell is on Jobin’s phone ?” For once in his life, Aisho managed to say something to only himself. “Think Aisho, think.”

“Hello Mr.Higashikata, this is AT&T calling, are you happy with your uhhh current long distance service? ‘Cause if you’re not I would really really love to talk to you as soon as possible about-”

Jobin has dashed into the room, nearly football tackling the phone away from Hato. He snatched it away without a word to his younger siblings, turning it off speaker and taking it outside.

“Hello, hello, Jobin Higashikata speaking,” he said as he walked onto the garage, pushing the door shut behind him and pressing his hand against it to make sure it stayed that way.

“Where the fuck is Yotsuyu?” None other than Aisho Dainenjiyama was on the other end, trying to chew him out.

“I told you never to call me.”

“This is serious business. I’m being followed right now and Yotsuyu won’t pick up their damn phone! It’s some chubby girl with blue hair, and she’s got a kid with her too. Ring any bells?”

A fine layer of sweat formed at Jobin’s brow. “A kid? What kind of a kid? Maybe it’s just a midget, huh?” Jobin tried laughing, but he didn’t think it sounded convincing to anybody who wasn’t an idiot. Thankfully, Aisho was.

“Well uh, it’s a little girl I’m pretty sure. She’s got red hair-”

Beautiful red hair, like the sweet love child of a bottle of merlot and a jar of the finest strawberry jam any artisan could sell. That was the look of his gorgeous wife, which she passed on to their beautiful child.

Their beautiful child, Tsurugi, who was being watched by Yasuho Hirose. Who is chubby, and has blue hair.

“Well uh, thankfully I got my Stand on them, and I think they figured out how it worked, but they’re struggling against it. They’re both users for sure, but neither seems good at fighting, so I think they’re just lackeys for someone else. This could be bad, you don’t think they’re some goons of Yoshikage Kira’s, do you?”

Jobin almost threw up.

“We never did find that other guy and - shit, come to think of it, Yotsu was supposed to be following up on that, before he vanished. Motherfucker! Jobin, this is bad, right? I-I gotta call the Twins and-”

“It’s fine,” Jobin kept his voice steady. “I’m coming down. You don’t need to get those bozos in on it, you and I can handle it ourselves. Where the hell are you at, anyways?”

“Well, they’re right next to the ambulance bay by TGU, so I’m walking down there now. Try to meet me halfway, if you can.”

God forgive him. He didn’t want it to be like that. It was Josuke’s fault! Josuke was the one who offed Yotsuyu! He was the one who got that girl involved, and they had to rope Tsurugi into all of it! It wasn’t his fault!

It wasn’t his fault he had to kill Aisho Dainenjiyama.

“Damn, what’s Jobin’s damage?” Daiya teased, after he had stormed out of the room. “Guess we’ll just have to do it off of my phone.”

Unfortunately, her phone too started ringing.

“Jeez, what now!” 

“It’s Ms.Nijimura,” Hato answered, before Daiya’s phone read her name out loud.

“Helloooooo?” Daiya answered.

“Ah, Ms.Daiya, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d like to deliver a message to Mr.Josuke, if I could.”

“Girl, that woman’s so emotionless," Hato whispered.

“Okay, one minute,” Daiya stood up to go find Josuke, who had seemed to retire to his room. 

“Hey JoJo, the housekeeper wants you!”

Josuke took the phone with interest in his eyes, and after only a short while sat it down on his bed and stood up.

“Where you going, JoJo?”

“I need to go out,” he answered plainly. “Actually, Daiya, can I please borrow your phone again? I’ll make it up to you later?”

Josuke slipped out of the house like butter, since Daiya would still bend over backwards for him.

He left out the front door, just barely missing a yell from the garage.

“Hey Mitsy, I’m gonna go pick up Tsurugi! Love you!”

Chapter Text

Morioh is a special place. They knew it well, which was why such a number of them had gathered there. They weren’t like normal people, they lacked the desire to cluster and construct where it best suited them. They simply lived where they knew was best. To each their own special place. Their own blessing from the Earth.

His was on a hill with a spectacular view. He had even built on it a small house, designed for him by his friend. They didn’t normally have friends, but Yotsuyu surely was one. He said that the house was “octagonal” and “tuscany-style” and some other fancy architect words, but for Aisho, it was just his home.

“So, what have you been waiting to tell me?” she asked, gleaming that smile that made him feel so warm.

“Well, the truth is… You remember when I went to my parents house in Wakkanai? That was all a lie. I have a certain… biological cycle, let’s say, I was born with, so that instead of sleeping every night like a normal person, I go into a state of hibernation for a month straight.”

“People like me, we’re liable to go into that state at any time so long as it's been over three months since it last happened. For me, it tends to happen if I lose focus, for even a minute, I’ll curl up and my skin will become hard like a statue. I’ve never been able to do something like go to school, so I get by by faking records and qualifications.”

“I just love you so much, please, don’t leave me now! I couldn’t keep it in anymore, but I still want to be with you forever!”

“Oh you dummy! There are way weirder guys than that around! You take so good care of me too, I’d be an idiot to leave you over something like that.”

“Next time you think you’re gonna fall asleep, just focus on how much you love me!”

“Come on, come pounce me you dirty boy.”

“Right uh, you said this is your place?” He had a thug’s face and a tank top on, with a shaven head to match.

“Yeah, is now!” she boasted, gleaming that smile that had made him feel so warm.

Her clothes were torn off and thrown on a pile on the floor, some ended up under the bed. Under the bed, right in front of Aisho, who had fallen asleep trying his best to keep focus on how much he loved her.

“Get up! Get up! You’re gonna drown! Aisho! If you don’t wake up you’re gonna get buried alive!”

Huh?

Aisho came to and the first thing he saw was Yotsuyu, tugging on him for dear life. Deep, filtered breathing came from a space-suited figure next to him, his Stand, which was helping to reel him in.

The thing he heard was heavy construction, diggers crawling through dirt and knocking over wood.

“Thank the Earth! Aisho, get up! You’re gonna get buried!”

“Y-Yotsu? What happened?” His eyes widened in panic as he realized he had been sleeping in a pile of mud and smashed up timber, a far cry from the bed he had crawled under to hide himself.

“Where’s-”

“The girl you were seeing?” Yotsuyu cut him off, guilt in his eyes.

“Yeah! What happened!?” The last thing he remembered was texting her that he was about to go under.

“Aisho, she did this.” Yotsuyu gestured behind themself to the other half of Aisho’s house, which was still being chipped away at by excavators. “She looted you, found the deed to your land, traded it for money and ran. I think she’s out of the country by now.”

Aisho’s brain short circuited, unable to formulate words right. He can only sputter and cry.

“I’m so sorry Aisho, I couldn’t do anything. By the time I found out, I only had time to come save you.”

“F-Fucking damn it!” Aisho pounded his arms against the ground. “This isn’t right! What the fuck do I do now! I don’t have anything else!” he sobbed.

“Aisho, it’s gonna be okay. Just come with me, alright? I have another friend I’ve been helping out, like with you, and he and I wanna try something big. We still need somebody else to help us. You can come work for me directly, and I’ll sort out trying to find you somewhere else to live. I even know where you can get a new job...”

“Paisley Park, help me!” Yasuho cried for her Stand, who appeared out of arm. It reached out for the tornado, body becoming thinner than paper as it slipped its arms inside the confines of the razor wind.

“All right!” Yasuho cheered and gestured to the cowering Tsurugi. “Look, she can morph her whole body around, so she can make her arms small enough to dodge the wind!”

Slinking in through the maze of air, precise down to the nanometer, Paisley Park was soon face to face with the Stand, scoffing at its horned appearance.

Pumping some mass back into her hands, Paisley Park tried pummeling Doobie Wah. It did scarcely any damage, but succeeded in knocking it further back from its master.

“No way no way no way!” Aisho screamed as he looked through the eye of his Doobie Wah. “How can her Stand avoid getting cut up! It can really move itself through all the gaps in the vortex without even one slip up!? Damn it!”

With his rage filled words, Doobie Wah brandished one of its knife-like arms at Paisley Park, slashing it across the shoulder, which did the same to Yasuho.

Paisley Park retracted back to her, as if beckoned by her scream. Her top was cut across now, and blood was trickling out of her.

“Got you now, Tumblrina!”

Paisley Park stood in front of Yasuho, guarding her again. This time it brought its hands to its face, before they melted together and formed into a tube.

“It’s trying to suck it up!” Tsurugi realized.

“Does she have a mouth?” In the shock from her arm hurting, Yasuho someone found a second to space out and wondered whether she should’ve been trying to feed Paisley Park this whole time. Maybe she eats electricity or battery acid or something.

With surprising grace, Paisley Park lured Doobie Wah into her makeshift straw and sealed off the other end, keeping it contained as the pounding and clawing it did against her body grew weaker and weaker until it entirely vanished.

“Mother-” Aisho inhaled deeply. “How, how how! They can’t keep holding their breaths forever! Eventually I have to get in the right position to kill them! So how!? How did they get rid of Doobie Wah! again?”

“That’s it, I’m calling the Twins!” Aisho grabbed his cell phone, but instinctively dropped it. His palm was burning just from touching it. It shattered against the ground, electronics dead from overheating and plastic melted apart.

“What the-” Then Aisho saw him.

There, walking on the street, casually swaying between cars, was Jobin.

“Hey, Jobin! Did you just do that? I get it, you gotta be Mr.Bigshot, don’t want Ajusco coming and showing you up again, right? You sly dog! Come on, let’s go show Kujo and his little bitches hell!”

“Hey! That’s an ambulance bay!”

Yasuho realized that Kei was shouting at them as she attempted to navigate her car back around to them. 

“They gotta have oxygen tanks and masks! Go over there and you can breathe without that thing coming out of the wind!”

Out of options, Yasuho dashed across the street and straight for the hospital garage, carrying Tsurugi with her remaining good arm.

And there she found the only thing which made this situation somehow worse.

“Yasuho?”

Toru Yamagishi was there with his stupid hair and his stupid smirk and his stupid lab coat.

“Are you okay darling? Your shoulder looks-”

“Oxygen!” Yasuho gasped, trying her best to not to re-inhale. “Me and her, need oxygen, now.”

“You mean her and I?” Toru laughed.

“NOW!”

Yasuho pushed him to the ground and crawled inside an ambulance herself. She affixed a regulator to her face, and Toru - concerned - came after her to start the flow of the tank.

“Get her one toom” Yasuho ordered, finally able to breath freely.

Or so she thought.

It was in the mask.

The tornado, the God forsaken Stand, came out of the oxygen tank.

It was no good. Its pursuit was as relentless as its intent to kill was merciless. All along, some horrible killing machine like this was in the same town as Yasuho. 

Yasuho could do no more. She almost flabbered out something about running again, but knew it was pointless.

“Don’t worry Auntie Yasuho, I can still save us!”

It had started when she pulled out Josuke. Ever since then, every moment of her life had been stuck in this all encompassing vortex of fear. Constantly blown around with Josuke and now Tsurugi. It seemed all there was to offer them was an endless calamity. Now they would die here, drowned in the filthy water pooled under the leaking roof of what they thought was happiness.

“Look! There they are, Jobin!” Aisho panted as he encroached upon the ambulance bay. “Damn, slow down, you’re moving fast today.” Aisho chuckled as he jogged a bit to overtake Jobin.

“Hey sir!” Toru called out to him. “What are you doing, you’re about to-” His words fell on deaf ears, as Aisho started madly chuckling out loud.

“I got you in my grasp now! Before I was just paranoid you were following me, but now I’m firmly pissed off at you! I wanna see you suffer!” His Stand appeared behind him with a deafening ding. It was now the full size of a human, and generating its own fearsome whirlwind, slamming all three against the front of the ambulance module.

“The Higashikatas always prosper!” Tsurugi declared. “My dad taught me that well, he’s not gonna let you get to us!”

“Your dad? Jobin, that’s your kid? What the hell is going on? Are you trying to set me up too?!" Aisho's eye twitched, a decade passing through it in a second as he shook and stomped his foot. "You fucker! I’ll kill you too! I’ll kill all of you! Your kid, that bitch, moss hair over there! See if I give a damn! I’m unstoppable! Yotsuyu taught me that! I’ll never doubt myself again! Ha ha! Doobie Wah, everybody!”

Aisho’s versions of events didn’t plan out, as where he fully expected to be cries for mercy and screams of agony, there was a loud horn beeping and a sudden thud.

Aisho was thrown a short distance to the right of where he was standing, splitting his body nearly in half, leaving him in a pile of bloodless crumbles as his body petrified.

“Oh my God!” Toru scrambled to help him. “I tried to warn him! He just let himself get hit by that bus!”

The mostly empty bus’ doors squeaked open, and the driver came out to assess what just happened.

“Is that some kind of statue? It really looked like a person. I thought someone was following the bus, I was gonna stop for him up there, but then he ran out in front of me.”

Yasuho calmly walked out of the ambulance and threw up a bit on the ground.

“Tsurugi, what, what just happened?” She asked, a bit numb from it all.

“I never deactivated Paper Kingdom on him,” she explained. “Because of my Stand, I was able to sense he was looking at my dad for some reason, or maybe a photo of him? I bet he was going to call my dad and had a picture for the contact. Either way, I took the opportunity and decided to make it so he couldn’t distinguish buses apart from my dad.” she chuckled a little, not particularly phased by having just killed a man, even if in definite self-defense. “That whole time he was walking over to us, he was just talking to a bus.”

Jobin stood in confusion, having tailed Aisho from a distance, the whole time watching him talk at a bus as if it were him.

And now he was dead.

“A-Aisho, just…” he felt uneasy and remorseful, conflicted over the battle that had just collided two sides of his life.

At least he could say his hands were technically clean.

“Do you think they’ll try sending us a bill for all that medical stuff you snatched?” Kei asked as she liberally bandaged Yasuho’s cut shoulder up.

“Your cut looks red, Auntie Yasuho. Let me spit in it, that’ll clean the germs out!”

“Will both of you zip it for one second. I’m looking at all this footage.” Yasuho’s laptop displayed a quadrant of screens, showcasing the events of Aisho’s death from numerous angles.

“Even from the bus’ on board dashcam, it looks more like he was a suicide jumper than anything else.”

“I’m more concerned about the part where he crumbles into stone,” Kei explained. “How the hell is that one getting explained? That kid who was there, your ex or something right? He ran over to Aisho when he got hit, he saw him crumble apart!”

Yasuho shook his head. “Well, he loaded up Aisho in one of those ambulances and tried getting him to the hospital bay himself, but by the time he did it seems Aisho’s body completely fell apart, even his clothes, so the official story lists him as missing after he ran out of the ambulance. Since Toru had to drive the ambulance himself, nobody was in the back with Aisho, so from their perspective he somehow limped out of it when Toru stopped.”

“But he’s dead!” Tsurugi blurted out. For the first time since the encounter began, she seemed genuinely horrified. “We did something really bad! We killed him!”

“I-it’s okay, Tsurugi.” Yasuho surprised herself and brought the girl into a hug. “You were just protecting yourself. Even under the law, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s called ‘self-defense.’”

“Either way though, Paisley Park erased that footage. Nobody but us has it now,” Yasuho revealed.

“That Stand of yours sure is versatile,” Kei commented.

Then they were stopped by footsteps. Not a huge concern in a public park.

What is a huge concern is when they belong to Jobin Higashikata.

“Hey Tsurugi!” He looked like the world’s heaviest weight was just lifted off of him, smiling down at his daughter. “Did you have fun with Auntie Yasuho?” he turned to look at her, seemingly having chosen to ignore his housekeeper’s presence. “Thanks a lot, she always has the most fun with you.” He reached deep into his pocket and pulled out a large object. Kei worried for a moment it may be a weapon, but it was actually…

Well, it was a big foam banana. With the feet, wings, eyes, and beak of a duck.

“Duckanana! Check this thing out!” Jobin laughed, patting himself on the knee. “You can have it, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for you keeping Tsurugi safe.”

Keeping her safe? Did he-

“Oh, who am I kidding.” Jobin grabbed Yasuho’s hand and slid something in it. “It really means a lot,” he smirked before departing, Tsurugi in tow.

Yasuho flipped her palm open to discover no less than 600,000 yen.

“Holy shit!” Yasuho jumped for joy, her woes completely erased.

“Careful! What if that’s a trick!” Kei reprimanded.

“Somehow, I don’t think it is,” Yasuho said, turning the money up and down in her hand.

“That fruit, the Locacaca, and the Wall Eyes here in Morioh. Yotsuyu Yagiyama and Aisho Dainenjiyama, people who can turn into stone. Was it through disease, or evolution?” Kei pulled her hat brim down over her eyes. “Jobin Higashikata, partnered with both of them, yet unconcerned, even relieved at Aisho’s death. The Higashikata Family Curse, and those ‘Rock Humans’, and my mother’s own illness. I somehow feel like we’ve opened the lid on something that’s been brewing since a very, very long time ago, and somewhere is a missing link that will reveal everything together.”

“And what do you think that missing link is?” Yasuho asked.

“I think he’s right over there.”

Yasuho’s eyes widened. Appearing before them was the one thing better than being slipped 600,000 yen: A gap toothed patchy-skinned man in a green sailor suit.

Josuke smiled wide and ran towards her.

And passed her.

“Kei! What’s going on! Are Yasuho and Tsurugi safe?”

Kei pried her shoulders out of his shaking grasp. “Yeah, Yasuho’s right there you blind nimrod.”

Josuke jumped back in place, turning his head to meet Yasuho’s gaze.

“Y-Yasuho! I didn’t even recognize you, you’re so bandaged up… And you have those cute clothes on.”

Yasuho blushed deeply, bringing her knuckles to her face. She ran into Josuke and hugged him deeply.

“I… I finally got to see you again! I’m really glad- This whole time I- I’ve just been waiting for you.”

“Yassy,” Josuke teased. “You’re crying so much. Come on, you don’t gotta cry.”

Yasuho sniffled and looked up. “But, you’re crying too.”

“Huh?” Josuke tried to keep his face still. “No I’m not!”

“Yeah you are, you big green bean,” Yasuho giggled, wiping her own eyes clear. “I can see tears!”

“Alright… I admit it!” Josuke laughed with her. “I was really, really worried about you Yasuho.”

“Good grief,” Kei rolled her eyes. “Hey Yasuho, you just made 600,000 yen, right?”

“You what?” Kei raised a hand to silence Josuke.

“You two need to go do something really nice together,” She tossed Josuke a key, which he almost missed.

“You can borrow mom’s car, I’ll get back to my place somehow. But I don’t want to see either of you two until you’re back from the fanciest date Morioh can buy.”

“Well…” Yasuho shyly clung to Josuke’s shirt. “I do need to get a new bra now; The one I was wearing got its strap broken by that Stand.”

“Right, come on Yasuho.” Josuke smiled. “The night is all our’s now.”

“Wait, do you even know how to drive?”

“Well, I, well I-”

“Phhh! You dummy!” Yasuho laughed in his face. “Come on, I’ll take us. For now, I just want you to sing for me.”

“Sing?”

“Yeah, sing for me while we drive along the lights of the night time pier. It’ll be so romantic," Yasuho gushed, as the pair slipped away from their worries.

“But I don’t know how any songs go.”

“Then sing from your heart.”

Josuke sat in deep thought for a moment, and did just that.

I ordered large fries

Ordered large fries

Ordered large fries

They gave me large fries

but no fried chicken

Skip the fried chicken

Can’t stand fried chicken

Just want some crispy fries

As dusk had appeared, Jobin Higashikata stared longingly through the glass divider into the world of the simple beetle. Jobin often wondered if they saw him as a friend, a God, or a simple force of nature. How nice it must be to live in their world of strength rules all. They didn't have to worry about loyalty or morality, they just were.

Maybe that’s how Jobin needed to be too. He shouldn’t spend his time worrying, he had nothing to worry about! He was still alive! It wasn’t his fault if Yotsuyu and Aisho died, they must’ve just not been as strong as him.

He thought of Aisho crossing in his sights, how Jobin was ready to kill him for Tsurugi’s sake.

Yet in the end, he didn't have to! Tsurugi, it would appear, had done it herself! That just proved it, didn’t it? Jobin didn’t need to protect anybody! The strongest survives! Tsurugi was the strongest!

He cheated. Aisho was ready to call The Twins for backup before Jobin destroyed his phone. Jobin had cheated the rules of strength.

“This is all Josuke’s fault! That freak is the one who killed Yotsuyu!”

Yotsuyu…

Years worth of memories with the two who he many times considered his best friends rolled through his brain again.

Jobin thought back to the naked man, uneven skin and gap teeth he uncovered.

And he let him live.

He was proof though, that made it worth it. He was proof Jobin could make the Higashikatas the strongest again.

Jobin had opened his phone. He was going to try and confront the fact that he was going to have to call him about this, but got stuck on an old photo of him, Yotsuyu, and Aisho.

Jobin screamed and pounded his fist against the terrariums. He looked over at the literally shaken beetles in remorse.

“I’m sorry guys.”

Knock knock

Jobin jumped, spinning around relieved to see the intruder into his beloved beetle chamber was only his meddling horse-haired brother.

“Hey big bro, are you doing anything?” Joshu seemed clammier than usual.

“Not particularly. Mitsuba’s at a doctor’s appointment.”

“Can I uh, talk to you?” Joshu asked with some surprise earnestness.

Jobin took a deep breath. “Sure thing.”

“Everyone’s seemed really really, off lately.” Joshu seemed to have a weight lifted off of him. “I mean, since that Josuke guy came, Hato’s been acting distant, and Tsurugi’s acting weird, and Daiya just seems plain upset with herself most days.”

“You think so?” Jobin seemed unphased. “You don’t think something’s happened to her at school, do you?” He pranced around the room. “I told dad it’d be better to just keep her home.”

“Hey hey,” Joshu squared up to his brother. “Don’t put her down like that! It’s not her school that’s the problem, it’s that Josuke!”

After a beat, Jobin let out a solitary laugh. “Josuke?”

“Yeah! While you were gone, Josuke was supposed to look after her. I’m telling you, I think she got a crush on him, and that bastard broke her heart and went after Yasuho instead!”

Jobin sat down, resting his chin on his hand in one swift motion. “You’re sure you aren’t projecting, weirdo? I mean, really, who’d go after that guy? You ever look at his teeth?” Jobin bared his mouth opened and tapped his incisors “He looks like Freddie Mercury!”

“Come on!” Joshu squirmed around in his own skin, looking desperate. “You don’t think ever since he showed up things have been going down hill?”

Jobin placed his hand in front of Joshu’s face, commanding his silence as he stood back up. “No no no no no, maybe you’re right. Since I got back and Josuke was here, things have been…”

Jobin looked down and took a quick count of lines on the floor. “Totally awesome! You’re just jealous that guy is a way funner little brother than you are!”

Joshu made a groggy groan and stomped on the floor. “You’re kidding me! Are you blind or something!”

“Woah woah!” Jobin palmed Joshu again. “Are you implying there’s something wrong with being blind? And here you acted like a champion to the visually impaired.” Jobin tsk tsked and shook his head. “Look here, little brother, I’ll tell you what. I’m a grown man who doesn’t have time for your petty spatting, but I admit maybe I haven’t been giving you a fair chance lately. How about you and I hang out some more, and I’ll give you a chance to prove your case on your Josuke obsession to me.”

Jobin smiled wide. Joshu may have not had the potential to be the power drill of his toolkit, but maybe he could make himself a good screwdriver.

Chapter Text

“And you and I climb, crossing the shapes of the morning. And you and I reach, over the sun for the river. And you and I climb, clear, towards the movement. And you and I called over valleys of endless seas.”

Josuke had his ears buzzed awake by a beatless singsong. He rolled a bit in his bed, only to plunge onto the floor. As became evident, he was not in his bed, but rather laid out on a section of the living room sofa.

“You rolled in late last night boy,” Josuke was lifted up by a hefty pat on the shoulder from Norisuke. “Stumbled in through the garage and passed out right in front of my van," he grumbled.

Josuke muttered in laughter with Norisuke, his spirits lifted up like his body was as he remembered the prior night he spent with Yasuho .

“Mean old Daddy wanted to leave you in there after I got my phone back, but I wouldn’t have it,” Daiya recounted. “I couldn’t imagine if poor JoJo had to sleep draped over a car,” she frowned.

“Thanks Daiya,” Josuke huffed.

"Besides, I think today's a good chance to be your first day, so you needed some good sleep?"

"First day?"

Come on, Josuke, you gotta change!” Daiya demanded.

“Change?” 

Josuke had to question her, now offended by the slight towards his dignified sailing outfit.

“Yeah, girls are the ones who wear sailor clothes.” Daiya teased him.

Oh right.

Before Josuke was investigating magic families, fighting Rock Humans, and dueling beetles for intel, everything in that whirlwind of events, he had tried going to school.

“Oh uh, I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to do that whole thing now, Daiya.” Josuke tried to exit stage left, but was barred by a couple stares between confusion and frustration.

“What are you going on about, Josuke?” Norisuke tilted his head towards him. “You still gotta find something to do with yourself, boy-o!” he half-joked.

“Right uh,” Josuke fidgeted with his hat and dodged eye contact by looking at a particularly big silk moth on the wall, about 150 millimeters total. “The thing is, Norisuke, I actually figured out some leads about where I came from over the weekend. It might not be very concrete, but I’d like to focus on that now.” Josuke bowed, finally matching eyes with Norisuke hoping it would force him to consider the events of a certain late night in the orchard.

“Well,” Norisuke donned a Thinker pose, rubbing his fist-forming knuckles against his stubbled chin, “I suppose that’s all for the better, if you’d be able to return home sooner than later. However, as your generous caretaker, I’d much prefer you keep out of trouble for a few weeks and try out a chance to readjust.”

Of course, Norisuke wants to keep Josuke’s troublesome backstory with Yotsuyu out of the house.

If only he knew it already lived there.

Josuke became hyper aware of the undershirt Otoishi made for him rubbing against his skin.

He again made an attempt to fall back into his bedroom, but was pursued by Daiya.

“Hey, what the heck, Josuke?! You’re not coming to school with me?” Daiya grabbed him by the collar and used all of her limited vision to stare daggers at him, flipping between pitiful puppy eyes and a spiteful glare.

“Listen, Daiya, I was going along with you but things changed,” Josuke dismissed. “I can’t stay and flirt around with you anymore.”

“Changed?”

There was a loose floorboard in the hallway, Daiya had learnt and noted in his her mental blueprint of her home; It stuck up just a bit so you one could trip over it if you jammed your toes against it.

So she did.

Josuke jumped and called her name as she purposely fell into his catch.

He worried about her for just a second, fussed over her.

She felt a lot of emotions going up those arms: Fear, anger, relief…

Love.

She took that one. He didn’t seem to notice as she hid it up her fluffy nightgown sleeve and dashed past him to the bathroom, sobs bursting out of her eyes all the way.

Her dad had noticed and tried to yell after her in his consolation voice, but she didn’t feel like dealing with that.

It came out as a Queen, taunting Daiya as she sat it on the sink counter and contemplated it.

She didn’t need to know, she decided. Just ignore it and shower.

Her hair was getting pretty long, so she decided to think about that. Thinking about how she should style it or if she should get it cut again as she scrubbed it through with luxurious strawberry scented shampoo.

She should ask Kohaku about it.

Nah, she should ask Ruri what she thought. 

It was still there.

“Shouldn’t have even taken that stupid thing,” Daiya muttered to herself as she squeezed her bra on. “I am not going to look at it.”

Daiya looked at it.

Viewing memories was a very precious process for Daiya; It was her only avenue of complete vision. In each one of her Stand chess pieces was an infinitely smooth orb she could rub against the surface of her skin. They tingled a bit, like a pack of ice, and in an instant she could see again.

The vision wasn’t hers, it was anybody but hers, but for a few minutes she would be there in somebody else’s place, seeing their sights and feeling their feelings. Depending on what she got, it could be less like a recording and more like an infinite landscape of feeling, with snippets of people and places melting together. Daiya had learned that the more a person thought about a memory, the more it ended up like that.

This one was simple though, it had only happened last night. Daiya’s face almost immediately went red hot as she was placed behind Josuke’s eyes, kneeling on a bed and staring down locked on to an opposite, carmine pair. They were inviting and needy, complemented by the sprays of blush searing her face and frame by her hair which was like a bed of forget-me-nots piled across the mattress.

In an instant Daiya tossed the memory away from her onto the floor.

“That shameless jerk!” she wailed almost loud enough for everybody else to hear. “Did he seriously go and do it with her ?!”

She knelt down for the memory and twisted the top of it apart, the piece dissolving in her hand while the mnemonic orb flew back away to its rightful home.

Daiya spent the rest of putting her uniform on fuming to herself.

“Why doesn’t he just go off with her then, huh?” she had retreated to her room to retrieve a tube of jet black lipstick, which she had perfected the practice of putting on herself; Nail polish was sadly still a talent that eluded her. “Why couldn’t you just stay with me, JoJo?” she mused to a floppy stuffed kitty on her bed.

“Why’d I have to ruin it?”

Before leaving, Daiya walked over to her window sill, where she kept a chessboard to hold her entire memory collection. She went to her all time favorite, a proud black queen that held the first time Jobin met his wife.

It had a lot of things. There was the unyielding admiration big brother had looking at his soon to be love, which Daiya did envy at being only a temporary feeling for her, but she thought it went deeper than that. They met at college, at the peak of a time when Jobin had been braving his own path with grand ambition in his young eyes. The type of thing which Daiya thought she’d never get for herself.

“Cali-fornya!” California King Bed had popped up from behind Daiya, floating its satellites around her waist.

“Go away,” she sneered as she released the memory. “You’re nothing but my curse.”

Contrary to what her dad advised, Daiya had decided to try walking home over taking the bus.

And there was a very nice, amber haired reason for that.

Her name was Kohaku, a classmate of Daiya’s. And oh woe, Daiya had begun crushing on her.

The area outside her school smelled nice, and sounded nice. The little buzzes of colours she could see seemed pretty.

“It’s a strangely universal concept, the wandering woman’s spirit searching for her filicided children.” Kohaku had gotten done with a tangent about urban legends, the research of which was her very favoorite hobby. “You know this place is host to a bunch of folklore. You don’t believe in ghosts, do you Daiya?”

“Ghosts, huh? That’s a little out there. Maybe I just think it’d suck, being stuck all alone. Ghosts never have friends, do they?”

“A ghost with friends, eh? I don’t think there’s a lot, no. You’re saying a lonely afterlife is a fate worse than death?” Kohaku grimly chuckled, but Daiya didn’t think it was a laughing matter.

“I’m serious, Kohaku. The best thing in my life is when I get to share memories with somebody, it’d be worthless to have to spend eternity with another chance to do that again.”

Daiya wondered if she became a ghost, whether California King Bed would stick by her. Maybe she’d still have a chance.

“Well, do you believe in anything then?” Kohaku tried to coax her spirits up. “Sorry if that seems like a personal question, it doesn’t have to be big picture stuff. Just like, Yokai or magic.”

“Magic?” fidget with her bobbed hair for a second. “Hmmm, maybe.”

“You should bring me to your house one day, Daiya.”

Daiya winced hearing that. It had been a somewhat common request since the start of Hasekura’s latest school term - which had the audacity to start a week and a half earlier than public schools did.

The truth is the Daiya who went to that school wasn’t the Daiya who lived at the big orchard house.

The idea was simple: At home she acted like a kid, and everybody babied her. All she had to do was act all stoic and grown up, and things would be different.

Thus was born Daiya Higashikata, matter-of-fact model student. No need for silly stuffed rabbits and weird old American songs. It worked, she was shaping up to be an infallible model of disability independence.

But now she could not betray one to the other.

“Heh, I really don’t think my dad likes visitors,” she tried to brush off. That was a lie, he loved them. “I’m sure my brothers would just bother us anyways.”

“Oh come on,” Kohaku lightheartedly appealed. “You live in a big mansion basically, don’t you? I’m sure we wouldn’t get in anybody’s way.”

“Well, I guess I’ll try asking,” Daiya giggled, trying to remain in good graces.

“Careful, we’re coming up on a big street crossing,” Kohaku warned, tugging Daiya to stop her steps. Daiya blushed.

She bit her lip as she decided to use an excuse to squeeze for the girl next to her’s hand.

“C-Could you help me walk across?”

Daiya dearly wished she could look at her facial expressions.

Kohaku did indeed start crossing the road with Daiya holding onto to her; The latter twisted her head around every which way to try and distract her from her own awkwardness

And then she saw it.

It was just an alley, but she saw it.

Crystal clear, in the way she could normally only get from memories now.

Everything else, even the immediate left and right, were still abstractions at best. But she could count every individual brick on the ground, take notice of the spots of grass growing in due to neglect, get in a tad of the sun bleached color on the walls.

She could see them.

Daiya stayed rattled the rest of the journey to her friend’s home. Her classmate had begun attempting to invite her inside, but got blind sided by Daiya’s response.

“Hey, you said there’s a bunch of urban legends about that street, right?”

Kohaku gave out a cute little “Mhm!”, hypered at the prospect of getting to share anything she knew about her interest.

“Well, what sorts? Gimme specifics.”

“Oh! Well, that whole area… People call it ‘Shakedown Road!’ There’s supposedly a whole city’s worth of scammers who use magic to trick people into giving them money! Mostly during day time hours though, when kids are in school so the people on the street are more likely to have cash on them. Then that’s where one of my favorites takes place, The Legend of Jo-”

“Anything about an alley?” Daiya interrupted. “Like, a specific alleyway, that’s special at all?”

Kohaku cocked her head. “Erm, no I don’t think so. Are you alright Daiya?”

Oh just perfect, she worried about her.

That was fine though, she’d need the memory to help her back there anyways.

“California King Bed.”

Daiya’s Stand appeared and worked its magic unseen by anyone but Daiya. An odd quirk of her power is that her Stand appeared fully visible to her in stark contrast to anything around it, just like that alley did. Daiya speculated she could see other Stands in action too, but had never gotten the chance. Sooner than later, a black pawn clunked to the ground, and California puffed away into a cloud of spiritual smoke.

“Whoops,” Daiya spoke to the presumably dazed Kohaku as she felt around on the ground. “Dropped this,” she held up the memory to her raised chin, “it’s my lucky token. See you at school, bestie.”

It was very unfeeling, being her direct knowledge of the path to walk through the Mutsukabe Promenade.

“Useless power,” Daiya scorned, disappointed that it hadn’t let her see how her crush felt when Daiya grabbed her hand.

She was too big a coward to admit to herself that California hadn’t taken that because she was scared of the result.

“Hey daddy, I’m staying at my friend’s house for a little bit. You know, Kohaku Matushima?”

“Daiya,” her father sternly answered from the other side of her phone, “I’d really prefer you come home. There’s some I need to tell you about.”

“Oh I Won't be gone that long, I’ll make it home in just another hour or so.”

Her father groaned. “Alright then, since you’re insisting. Just be extra careful, alright princess?”

California showed up behind her again. “Of course daddy, love you!” she beamed.

That wasn’t really a lie, for all his faults she loved her dad. She loved her whole family.

“California, you silly, you widdle goof, you know you don’t work over the phone.”

Daiya didn’t think of herself as a loner, but it had come to pass that she liked being alone best. Just her and nobody’s opinion of her, nobody to impress.

“Man, California, I always forget how friggin’ cute you are! Does that mean I’m cute too?”

She giggled.

Things were looking up for her now, she was sure of it. That alley was a one way portal to good luck.

She even nabbed a few memories for her collection along the way. She couldn’t wait to check them all out later.

Finally, she saw it again.

She had a gulp, then mustered up the Higashikata Family Spirit to burn away her nerves and carry her Mary Jane clad feet into the lonely avenue.

Daiya was overwhelmed. There was positively nothing interesting about it, it was just some lame passageway between stores. But she could see it was that! No magnifying glasses, no reaching around or studying shadows, she was just looking at it.

“Hey you, don’t turn your head around..”

Footsteps reverberating around the desolate structure of the back alley, Daiya froze in place as somebody walked in front of her.

It was another girl, looking about her age, with neck length violet hair parted straight across by a black headband. She was dressed up in a baggy but comfy looking hoodie and some sweatpants.

Daiya could see that.

“I normally wouldn’t go out of my way to help anybody in here, but you seem cute to me.”

Daiya couldn’t even get flattered, she was so pushed to her limits. Joy, confusion, detachment, all hitting her at once. She tended to process emotions strongly but one at a time, and had a crunch trying to keep her composure under this stress.

“I-I can see you,” she finally stutters out.

“Point being?” the other girl asked, plainly confused.

“I’m, I’m blind.”

The girl seemed genuinely quite surprised, mixed with a hidden worriedness.

“Blind?”

“Yeah, I can't see, barely even with glasses. My vision was around 10/200 last time I got checked,” Daiya hadn’t said that for quite some time now. Everybody just knew what to expect from her by now, or would be informed ahead of time if they didn’t. “But I can see this alleyway perfectly fine, and I can see you.”

“Well then, seems you may have found a friend.” the girl extended her hand out to Daiya, who couldn’t help but take notice of every last nail and wrinkle. “My name is Ruri.”

“What the hell is going on here?!” Daiya had started crying by now.

“Oh sweetie, you seem so upset. You want to talk about your troubles?”

Daiya made it home about two hours later, feeling much more at peace than usual.

She navigated into the house like usual, having at least three years worth of practice. The rebuild three years ago was certainly an adjustment period; she had spent a week straight making sure she knew that house inch-by-inch top-to-bottom.

“Hi daddy!”

Her father was sprawled on the couch, and Daiya slinked her way over to give him a ceremonious hug.

“Sweetie, I hope you had fun.”

“Mhm!” Daiya rubbed her chin. “You weren’t waiting out here the whole time, were you?’

Norisuke straightened his back out and laughed. “Well I was, but like I said that’s because there’s an important matter to tell you about.”

“Oh?” Daiya wondered what ‘80s movie her dad decided to name a fruit bouquet arrangement after this week.

“You know how your brother landed himself in the hospital yesterday?” Daiya yeah’d along, curious where this was going. “Well, that ‘incident’ he happened upon, it involved another young man. Later that day, that guy got picked up by the police for suspicion of murder.”

Daiya gasped. A dangerous guy like really came face to face with her incel brother?

“But, simply put, it's a sham arrest!” Norisuke declared. “This young man, he’s been affected with amnesia, and is probably a missing person from the earthquake. I had our lawyers take a glance at these details,” Norisuke referred to several piles of paper he had on the table in front of him, Daiya having no chance of making out the words without help, “even though it’s outside their area of expertise, they all said there’s no valid evidence against him! On top here is a photo of him, would you like to see?”

Norisuke gave her the print out, and she took a moment to produce a handheld magnifier from her backpack, peering at the picture through it.

Well, simply put, he was hot.

Tan, handsome, wavy hair and a charming little gap tooth.

Norisuke fake coughed, drawing her eyes back to him.

“So, the thing is, like I said, this young man has no memories of himself, and no identification either. Even the police and the hospital can’t match him to anybody, so even if he’s released from jail he’d have no means of getting a job or supporting himself.” Norisuke rubbed his chin. “I think as proud leaders of the Morioh community, it’s our duty to step in and cases such as this. I’d like to let this young man temporarily stay with us, until he’s able to establish a place for himself.”

No means of getting a job or supporting himself. An unfortunate situation to be sure, something she certainly understood the pressure of, wondering what would become of her if she was marooned from her family’s resources.

But no memories? That was what hit Daiya hard. She thought the best there was was sharing memories with somebody, and to have that experience be voided must be true misery. That poor guy needed somebody to make up for all the experiences he lost with! Somebody who could understand him…

“Yeah that’s a great idea!”

“Now I understand this would be a big adjustment especially coming of the disappointment of our canceled trip,” Norisuke had preemptively began, “and so I won’t go through with this unless everybo- it’s what?”

Daiya got flushed at his surprise towards her enthusiasm. “I just mean, y’know, all that stuff you said about leaders of the community, right?” Daiya grabbed Norisuke’s hand, appealing straight for his heartstrings. “He’s in the poorest situation on Earth, daddy, somebody’s gotta help him!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re so on board! I should’ve known my little princess would come through for me! Everybody else took a whole sales pitch to agree.”

Daiya was excited, the perfect guy just got dropped on her lap! They’d surely become the best friends and deepest of lovers. She resolved to stop back at the alley tomorrow and tell Ruri all about it.

Chapter Text

“Those lazy lower lifeforms.” Isamu Otoishi had emerged from a photo studio clad shoulder to toe in a thick beige trench coat, his visage obscured by a matching face mask and a pair of shrewd spectacles, and his head topped with a widely brimmed hat.

His rare venture into the public of Morioh was more or less forced on him by the managers of the current fashion exhibition shoot he had designed for.

“Scheduling error my ass,” he grumbled. “What’s the point of having an army of little interns swarming around me all day if none of them can even be bothered to go pick a load of dry cleaning?”

Isamu angrily started his luxury car, pulling away from the studio and cruising along the road…

For 15 meters, before slamming on the brakes to signal his arrival at his destination.

“I can’t believe they made me drive all the way over here!”

Isamu burst into the crypt of plastic wrapped clothes, arrogantly striding his way over to a stout man at the front desk.

Isamu sneered down at him from behind his spectacles, emphasis on down. Not wanting to engage a conversation, Otoishi simply slid the ticket across the counter.

The owner studied the ticket through his thickly framed arctic ice colored sunglasses.

“Oh of course, the fashion shoot next door?” he asked, voice unexpectedly beaming with confidence. Isamu gave an annoyed nod.

“You know it’s a shame that you’ve had to come pick it up, you seem like quite an important man. Normally this type of thing would be handled by an intern of some sort.”

“ How charming,” Isamu thought, “the little Christmas gonk is a mind reader.” He remained silent.

“In fact, I outta just be delivering these personally! It’s scarcely a 30 second walk.”

The owner reset his elbow on the counter and positioned his hand to push up his glasses. “Would you be willing to spare a minute to show me how to get in? It’d be easiest for everybody, since the studio still has several weeks left on our contract.”

Isamu - through no effort of his own - was drawn into the odd owner’s request. “Well, I drove here but, I suppose I could do that. Just so I’m not bothered with this task again.”

“Hey hey hey!”

Stepping outside the sterile cleaner back into the clouded city walkway, Isamu 's annoyance was instantly elevated back to the max at the sight of a Prussian blue anomaly sticking out from under his beloved BMW.

“What in God’s good name do you think you’re doing?” Isamu subtly used his Stand to drag the punk underneath his car out by his collar, that of a getup reminiscent of a footballer’s uniform, complete with matching shorts and high socks. The neckline had been cut down, however, and was adorned with golden ringlets. His ratty face was squared in by a buzzed scalp and erratically cut sideburns, with a smudge of lipstick that matched his clothes.

“I’m sorry sir,” he spoke in an emotionless sing-song, almost inhuman in quality, “I was just trying to get my ball.”

“Ball?” Isamu smeared.

“Yes siree.” He shook out of Isamu's grasp, going back under the car and army crawling all the way to the other side, emerging back around cradling an oddly patterned football. “It rolled on under there,” he began to roll it up and down his arms and legs, performing an almost elegant dance with the ball.

“Please excuse him sir,” Isamu was startled by the appearance of the car-crawler’s double, identical except for his uniform being a proud vermillion color. Isamu couldn’t tell if they were actually twins, but they had identical presentations save for the red one’s lack of lipstick. “My dear little brother, he’s one with that ball, he ought not to be away from it for long.”

With nary an explanation more, the disturbing duo wandered away into the depths of Dead Man’s Curve.

“Hooligans,” Isamu scoffed.

“Do you suppose they were trying to boost something from ya?” the dry cleaners owner asked. “We get a lot of vandals around.”

“Do you now?” Isamu mused.

“Oh yes, we’re a prime target! Lots of low denomination cash coming in, you know, and the feds don’t give a rat’s ass when they hear a launderer got held up.”

“Hah! And exactly how much cash are you saying your little tin can over there brings in?”

The owner leaned over to Isamu - wiggling his body to balance the box of plastic-wrapped clothes he continued carrying - and guided his voice straight into his ear.

“A lot.”

Isamu burst laughing, slapping the owner on his shoulder, making the box flip onto the ground. “I like the way you talk, funny man. I’d like to observe you, frankly; You should join me for drinks later.” He extended his hand down to the man. “Isamu Otoishi.”

The owner took and shook it, slipping a business card to Isamu's hand in the same move.

“Tamaki Damo, it’s a pleasure.”

“Soooo, where’d you go last week?”

Daiya had had an absolutely miserable day at school, it being spent hand waving the absence of Josuke’s appearance she had much hyped up to everybody - including the headmaster - the previous Friday.

“Josuke was with me when I walked home,” Daiya answered, explaining the skip on what had otherwise become a weekly routine of stopping by the lonely avenue for at least a quick hello, often expanded into a full afternoon spent “at Kohaku’s house.” “I didn’t want to bring him in here.”

“Ooooo, I get it,” Ruri teased, bouncing a ball against a trash can. Since her first time inside, Daiya had been shown that the alley went quite a ways back, consisting of what seemed an entire empty street bricked in by buildings that lacked in feature as much as they did life. “What’s the deal with that guy anyways? Has he asked you out yet?”

Daiya took a deep breath after hearing that.

“No, he’s not going to Ruri.”

The alley girl looked on at her in faux surprise. “Oh, what happened?” she said, reading Daiya’s troubled face, following her eyes as they tried to retreat into fussing with the contents of her backpack.

“I blew any chance of that the first day he came home. Hell, the first hour.”

Daiya started crying again. The girl behind her crept up to her back and slid her into a soft embrace against her hoodie.

“I was just trying to pour some tea, I swear, when he just had to go and try taking over for me - I think my dad put him up to -, but then, you know.”

“Your ‘Stand power’ went against him, right?” Ruri finished. “How do you take memories from a guy who doesn’t have any?”

Daiya didn’t share in the humor. “I took three from him, didn’t know the guy for a single afternoon and I had what little he did know. And long story short, one of them was a girl, and he’s together with her now.”

“Oh sweetie,” Ruri pulled her in tighter, smirking since she couldn’t see.

“I went way overboard, Ruri! I went psycho, like some freak kidnapper!” Daiya was shamed by her own comparison, having seen once firsthand how being held hostage scars somebody. “And now I have it as a good bet that he hates my guts.” Daiya wiped her eyes in her sleeves. “What is wrong with me? Me and my rotten old Stand.”

Daiya hiccuped to herself for a minute, before more words were prompted from her.

“Your Stand… I don’t think it’s rotten, y’know. Could you tell me about how you got it again? I just find the story so fascinating.”

Daiya glared back at her, hesitating before obliging.

“It’s my earliest memory, I’m pretty sure. I was three, and out playing in the orchard behind my house with my whole family, picking and eating our own fruit. My dad and siblings all got in some spat I guess, and I wandered a little bit off, right up to these giant pine trees. There’s a Wall Eye there now, but I just remember a man’s voice trying to call me away. I didn’t see anybody, just heard some voice from nowhere. I can’t even remember what it was saying now, but then I felt some really, really sharp pain in my leg. I just started crying, crying way more than I even would have reason to, it felt like I knew I was in some giant danger. Finally everyone started rushing over to me, but then the ground where I was standing suddenly came apart and I fell right into a fault line.”

“Quite interesting, I think. Isn’t the ground there supposed to be able to exchange things?”

“Well, that’s what I figured happened. I developed inexplicable childhood glaucoma, and somewhere along the way I figured out how to use California,” Daiya lamented.

“It’s really cool don’t you think? How having a Stand still lets you perceive spiritual things?”

Daiya tensed up like a rope pulled taut.

“Ruri, what is this place? I want you to tell me for real now.” She freed herself from the alley girl’s grasp and pointed at her. “Who are you? Wh-... What are you?”

“You got me figured out, don’t you?” Ruri came back towards her and whispered in her ear. “Dai-ya.”

“The spot right outside this place, a little to the left?” Ruri began her confession. “That’s where I died.”

Daiya slowly shook her head.

“Around a year ago now I threw myself off the top of a building,” Ruri described it awfully matter of fact, her hair being riled by the wind. “I had nobody left, my dad bailed and my mom couldn’t be bothered to give me the time of day. School was its own bundle of hell, and I just wanted to… wanted to be free from it all, I guess.”

“That’s nonsense,” Daiya didn’t want to believe this. Who would want to hear something so horrific? “There’s no such thing as…”

“As ghosts?” Sure there are, haven’t you ever heard The Legend of Johnny Joestar? This place used to be a real alley, but it was abandoned during the hard times in the 90s, and because of Johnny Joestar's spirit, it got transformed into a place where only ghosts can live.”

“Yeah, I heard about that name before. So what, you’re some kind of guardian angel now?”

Ruri shook her head. “I got stuck here, when I died I just-I wouldn’t leave, I realized I may have wanted to die, but I didn’t want to die alone.”

“So that’s why I could see this place, and you?” Daiya began to accept, crying as the truth had presented itself.

“To most people the entryway just looks like a wall. Sometimes people will wander in if they get too close anyways, but they never make it back out.”

Daiya froze up again. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not alone here, y’know. You remember what I always tell you, don’t ya?”

“Never turn my head around,” Daiya recounted.

“They’re waiting for me to leave this Earth, and they’re liable to pull away anybody else who finds themselves trapped in between. Even for someone like you, Daiya, I’m sure, it’d be instant death.”

Daiya wasn’t waiting to listen, however. She had purposefully spun on her heel and was pacing away.

“Come back!” Ruri wailed, frightening Daiya while also inspiring pity in her. “Come on, it’s gotta be Fate that you found me here, don’t you think? You’re probably the only person in the whole of Japan, maybe the world, who could notice the alley standing out like you did. You’re destined to be here!”

Daiya had already walked far enough that she could see out onto the street. “Hey, get back!” she ordered Ruri.

“Daiya ple-”

“Thanks,” Daiya stopped her, emotionally riled up again. “Thanks for being my friend, but I have to go now.”

Just another curse trying to rope her in.

She wanted to be done now. She already had one ghost clinging to her back ruining her friendships, she didn’t want another one.

Her heart sank when she made it to what a few moments ago was the entryway. Now in its place was just another addition to the expanse of heat scorched brick.

“”W-where’s the exit?!” Daiya yelped, feeling panic overtake her.

“You jerk! You think you can just up and leave me now? Just leave me alone like everybody else?” Ruri started going off on Daiya with a vengeance, face morphed into a horrible scowl.

Daiya’s knees felt like they were going to burst like a water balloon. She scrambled to get phone out of her backpack. Ruri pounced on her, digging her nails tight into Daiya’s wrist as she scrambled to dial in her sister’s phone number.

The terror on Daiya’s heart was trying to escape but was chained down still even as she heard her sister giving a mildly slurred jovial hello, accompanied by late afternoon crowd chatter.

Ruri slammed Daiya’s arm to the ground, making her scream in pain as the skin of her palm and screen of her phone were equally busted up.

Chapter Text

“You know, Josuke, you really should let me get you something other than one of those old sailor suits.”

Josuke could concede that he did stand out as a bit shabby next to a fleet of suit donners and cocktail dress enthusiasts - Hato in the latter category - populating the upscale restaurant they had to come to, but he remained defensive towards them.

“Doesn’t it ever bother you to be wearing a dead guy’s clothes?”

“Hey, these are the foundation of my identity! At least one of them, anyways.”

Hato laughed.

“Ahahaha! My darling!” Isamu emerged from the socialite crowd, maskless, as this fine eatery was one of the rare environments where he assumed people to be on his level, to perform la baise with Hato. “A pleasure to see you as well, sir sailor.”

Josuke had come along as Hato’s date to an industry party, hoping to end up with a chance to speak with Isamu away from her about the identity and fate of Jobin and Yotsuyu’s partner. Unfortunately with the way the two were flirting around with each other and the rest of the scene, he came to find that unlikely.

After about 15 minutes of awkwardly standing and shuffling around the bar, Josuke found his way back to Hato, who was already getting tipsy from a deceptively innocent brightly colored cocktail.

“Hato! Josuke!” Isamu too had appeared back out of the hustle to call after them. He was accompanied by a stout man who appeared to style himself after a mid-life crisis. “You two, I’d like you to meet my new acquaintance. This is Tamaki Damo, he owns the dry cleaners next to the Coffret Studio. I met him at Passione’s last shoot there several weeks ago,” he explained, though only Hato knew what he was talking about,

Tamaki Damo appeared to stare straight through Josuke and take an appreciative glance at Hato.

“A dry cleaner, huh?” Josuke pictured that sort of business’ face being a little more… reeled in.

Tamaki grinned wide at Josuke’s attention. “When I took ownership, it was mainly focused on the self-service laundromat crowd, but I phased that out; That’s the low man’s trade. Adry cleaners? That’s the type of service used by the upper crust, the real high clientele.” Isamu laughed. Definitely a friend of the tailor’s, Josuke thought.

Suddenly, Hato’s phone rang. She answered it and gave a mildly slurred jovial hello, accompanied by the late afternoon crowd chatter.

Nothing came from the other end except what sounded like two girls in a struggle, followed immediately by the audio of the Hato’s caller having their phone tumble against the ground.

Hato looked worried.

“Hey, shit,” she grabbed Josuke. “JoJo, that was Daiya just now.”

“D-Daiya?” Josuke was surprised to hear mention of the younger, feistier sibling frequently in his company. “Why would she make some weird call like that?”

“I don’t know, that… Something isn’t right. Come on,” Haot urged, almost tripping on her heels. “We gotta go find her.”

“Isamu, we gotta go!” she shouted behind her. “Catch you later. Nice to meet your friend!”

“Wonder where they’re going.” Isamu sneered at his friends leaving, while Tamaki seemed to be deep in thought.

“Wish they could’ve stayed, especially that lady friend of yours.”

“Oh Tamaki, tell me you weren’t going to try for her!”

“Oh what? You don’t think little old Tamaki Damo has a chance to hook up with the big pretty fashion model?”

“Ms.Hato isn’t the type of lady who goes for hookups, I’m afraid. Her body is well and truly a temple, take it from me. So, anything exciting at the cleaners?” Isamu asked, mostly jokingly.

“Well, the other day I had to chase out those two hooligans who sniffed around your BMW from the parking lot again.”

“Is that so? Bold move for them to be repeat offenders.”

“They’re a, how would one say, community issue, you know.” Damo ordered another two shots. “They call themselves the ‘A.Phex Brothers’, and nobody knows from where they came. They simply appeared on Dead Man’s Curve one day.”

“So some pair of illegal pickpockets?”

“Well that’s just the thing, they sure act like a couple of creeps but they’ve never actually stolen or swindled, on public record at least.” Tamaki leaned his elbows on the bar table, pyramiding his fingers together. “This is just what you’d call hearsay but… I’ve heard from certain sources that they’re assassins.”

Isamu choked on his shot. “They’re what?”

“Hitmen, you’d call it. Or according to others, enforcers for a secret drug cartel. Either way, behind their eccentricities are a duo of killing machines who make a fortune secretly eliminating whoever the powers at be see fit to fall off the face of the Earth.”

The echoed dribbling of a soccer ball came into their area. There were 7 of them as described. They didn’t bother to make distinctions, the order had been too simple for that.

The elder went first, approaching the one in the center, just in front of a pimped out street car. He held a shiv in his left hand, the one which was covered in skin and not a surface of rocky bumps, and stuck it into the center man’s side.

1.

Guns were drawn instantly, an impressive amount of the gang had one for how hard they were to come by in Japan. Ajusco had learned that keeping guns on hand wasn't worth it for this type of job, far too many questions were raised by them.

Before any of them shot, the street car came barreling at Ajusco. He dropped the shiv to meet the car’s bumper with his hand, his sturdy body withstanding its lackluster impact. He staggered up to the driver’s side door and punched straight through the window, slamming the driver’s head against the steering wheel over and over until his temple started to draw blood.

2.

He reached for and gripped the handgun the driver had stashed on the floor, his touch causing it to break apart into stony splinters. To the disgust and confusion of the others, his right hand started quaking and a rock effigy of the handgun erupted out of it, which plopped off and depetrified into the genuine article. Ajusco took the duplicated gun and unloaded a bullet into the stomach of the man he had stabbeed, then fired at the standing gangster nearest to him, striking him in the neck.

3.

It was a full on fire fight now. Two of the enemy gangsters who didn’t have guns of their own took initiative to rush the younger Aguajito, who had still been idly playing with his ball. He dodged the thrown fists with superhuman skill, keeping his legs busy kneeing the ball around. One of them suddenly had his brains blown out by a stray bullet, staining the ball in crimson.

4.

Aguajito would have to ask their boss for a new one, but now he didn’t have to worry about whether or not to save it. He produced a small dart out of his pocket and pierced the ball, deflating it. Instead of the typical pressurized air that should have come pouring out of a sports ball, the hole started spewing a nauseous orange vapor ad nauseam. The other assaulter tried to cover his face but the gas overwhelmed him quickly, seeming to come out in higher amounts than the ball could’ve even held. He had no choice but to start breathing it in, leaving him to painfully gargle as his eyes teared and his lungs constricted. He fell over.

5.

Ajusco’s gun started giving off clicks instead of bullets, his final bullet landing in a torso.

6.

“Out of bullets, eh you freak?” the last man standing taunted, his being filled with falsely earned confidence.

“Brother!” Ajusco shouted, before he calmly sat down and allowed himself to petrify for a moment.

“What the fuck are you. Huh?” He kicked the statufied Rock Human, more consumed by rage than grief for his comrades.

“Time for our ultimate combo!” Aguajito had enthusiastically shouted and kicked the now lopsided ball next to his brother, using up its remaining roundness post-slicing.

The color returned to Ajusco, saved for his right hand, which he gripped to the gangster’s face tight enough to make normal knuckles go white. He dipped his other hand into the ball, into the miasma, allowing it to transfer straight between limbs..

The scream was deafening; With that much that close, his lungs were practically melted.

7.

“Hell yeah!” Aguajito ran to his brother’s side, placing his hand up to demand a high five.

“There’s no need to get hyper, sweet brother,” the elder beckoned for the younger to calm, pointing for him to scoop up the remains of the ball, which then stopped spewing the gas. Even as the last of it wafted through the heavy, gunpowder scented air, the brothers were unaffected. “It’s no news that our ‘Schottkey’ is without compare.”

The two were gifted with powers that were different, save only for their shared spiritual form, a little bird which could briefly be seen hanging off their backs whenever they fought. With it, despite the random match up, they had formed an ironclad strategy together.

“So do you believe, Isamu? Some ruthless criminal enterprise is hiding right here in our little suburb?”

Isamu coughed awkwardly and hurriedly signaled for another full drink. “Well, even if there is, who cares? Let those rats kill each other if they see fit."

Sitting at a sunlit table in Umami Tasuke, Yasuho made a valiant effort to rub the tired out of her eyes. There was no part of her that regretted sacrificing her sleeping hours for the precious time she had with Josuke the night before, but it was undeniable that the self-induced insomnia was a burden on her current task: Research.

She had done a lot of research before, but cryptozoology was new to her radar.

Yasuho had gone through every library in Sendai, tacking down every scant sentence on a printed page talking about them.

The Rock Humans.

Rock Humans were a purported race of sapient silicon-based - as opposed to carbon based - organisms who outwardly had the appearance of normal human beings but with a number of seemingly supernatural characteristics.

Laid out in front of her was a laminated Polaroid of a dilapidated shrine. The photographers claimed it depicted within two petrified Rock Humans hiding in the guise of statues.

Rock Humans’ cellular structures periodically moved all moisture inside of organelles which caused the silicone heavy cells to close up like shelter doors and leave the creatures in a state of hibernation. The photographers projected a time frame of 30 to 90 days per hibernation, - although Yasuho suspected the process could be shortly induced at will with practice - during which all external signs of body heat and heart beat vanished. Shallow cracks in their hardened skin allowed for respiration, and the photographers speculated that the number of cracks visible corresponded to their age in a similar manner to tree rings.

They liked to hide in places that could be considered sacred. At and around shrines was an apparently common pick, while even more were alleged to be lurking within mountain ranges worldwide. Most basic clothing would end up fusing to their body in this process, leaving connections drawn between Rock Humans and reports of “phantom hikers” who were encountered in extreme climbing conditions with no more gear than a casual street outfit.

Many Rock Humans are potentially killed by drowning or suffocation from seismic activities, like eruptions or landslides, or even from benign things such as tree sap collecting on their skin.

Rock Human sightings described one of five particular poses they sleep in, thought again to be indicative of age. Yasuho had collected several accounts from campers of witnessing a Rock Human molting between stages of life, leading to her conclusion that they did not progressively age as humans do but rather go through metamorphosis.

A blank Yasuho had drawn was their origin; There was no way to conclude if they were descended from Homo Sapiens or if their humanoid appearance was a case of convergent evolution. They apparently had two sexes as humans did and reproduced with live birth, although with infants who were only the size of small insects. Occasionally, it was said by a crummy old thread on @chan, a Rock Human would fall in love with a regular person. These cases ended in betrayal, with high cases of domestic abuse and matricide.

Rock Humans are speculated to be primarily herbivorous, with only fish as a meat source. They do not appear to get into skirmishes with or hunt against forest mammals. Anomalous disappearances and deaths of hikers and campers are attributed to Rock Humans who kill for sport.

Collectivism among Rock Humans is rare. Most have no need for assets. Those who choose to live in human society are parasites, blending in by murdering low profile people and replacing them. They will aim for careers in the arts with irregular schedules to accommodate their hibernation cycles. Writers are especially suspicious.

Yotsuyu Yagiyama - An architect.

Aisho Dainenjiyama - Freelance security guard turned sports league shareholder.

Their bodies crumble when they are killed, leaving behind not even bones. Unique characteristic of silicone life, or convenient excuse for the lack of archaeological evidence?

Yasuho knew the answer.

She also figured nearly every Rock Human was a Stand user.

In 1938, Yasuho uncovered, Australians exploring the island of New Guinea had reported a plant named by a local population as the “Locacaca.” It appeared to be a tree, but was actually a perennial plant that bore fruit, growing only two meters in height, and producing no more than four fruits per plant.

Even to the aboriginal population who had history in the area dating back 50,000 years, this plant was extraordinary and enigmatic. They described it as growing in patches of forest ruled by a Godly people named The Gelmi, and only periodically could men of their tribe venture in and steal a small selection of fruit from the trees.

The fruit of medicine. It was given to women who were infertile, and allowed them to bear children. Yet when they attempted to nurse, their breasts produced sand instead of milk. One described an instance of a man feeding the fruit to his father who had lost his teeth from a great fall and could no longer eat. The man swallowed about ⅔ of a fruit, and instantly a new set of teeth emerged from his gums. His first action with them was to scream in agony, as the moment after his toes were consumed by stone-like lesions and fell off of his feet.

Exploration to the region was cut off by the entry of Japan into World War II. As far as Yasuho could tell, the paper she was holding was the surviving copy of this report. Refuged in a seedy little antique store which was one wave of delayed social security checks away from going out of business. Sadly Yasuho had no tender to offer the store (Oh, woe be to that explosively fancy date which sucked up all the cash Jobin slipped her!) and was relegated to snapping phone photos of the text.

The name “Galmi” was also ascribed to a group of unknown origin who had lost a war against Ancient Naples, a Kingdom now absorbed into Italy. Yasuho’s working theory was that Galmi was the Rock Humans’ endonym, their name for themselves.

The little worn down door back at the front of the cafe was opened.

“Hey, Yasuho!”

Oh son of a-

Yasuho swore she could walk to the ends of the Earth and never avoid him.

“Did you change your email address?” Toru Yamagishi teased as he intruded in on Yasuho’s new world. “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night. What in God’s green Earth were you do-”

“Shush shush!” Yasuho bellowed. “I’m busy with better things than you.”

Toru grimaced, scanning over Yasuho’s pile of research. ”Yasuho… What have you gotten yourself in to?”

Yasuho looked up at him and stared into his soul.

“Do you care?”

Toru hesitated, knocked off his game. He gulped.

“Yeah, I do. Yasuho I- I miss us. I’m sorry for what I did before, please understand I was in a- a difficult spot, and I thought the best way to forget about it was to throw everything else away. There’s not a single morning I don’t wake up without you by my side and regret it. Please, baby, give us another chance.”

Yasuho stewed in her thoughts for a minute, hating the fact that he actually drew her back into being emotionally invested in him. “Toru.” she hummed sweetly. He looked up with hope on his face.

“I loved you. You were my everything,” she started hissing, “and you ditched me. You threw me to the damn curb and guess what! I don’t need you back anymore, I love someone else now.”

Toru’s look became utterly disheartened. “Yasuho, tell me you don’t mean that John Doe you pulled out of the ground.”

Yasuho was mad at him. Mad at him for creeping after her, interrupting her, and now for insulting her man.

“His name is Josuke, blowfish, and guess what?” she leaned into Toru’s ear, trying to remember where to find them behind his semicircular cut. “I banged him.”

It felt good to be petty for once, to stand up for herself. And to stand up for JoJo. Toru was stunned. Too stunned to stop Yasuho from gathering her pile together and leaving on her heel.

But not stunned enough to stop himself from contently smirking once she was gone.

Yasuho was so proud of herself, she only wished she would run into Josuke at that very moment so she could tell him all about it.

As it happened, she then ran into Josuke at that very moment so she could tell him about it.

“JoJo!” she squealed with joy, rushing in to wrap her arms around his emerald fabric.

“Hey sweetie.” Getting called that was the peak of Yasusho’s life.

Once she got over her excitement, she noticed who was with him.

“Oh! Hato,” The elder Higashikata sister too offered Yasuho a hug.

“Yasuho, we need your help!” she bowed.

“We think Daiya is in trouble,” Josuke explained.

“That girl?”

Josuke took her hand. “We got a strange phone call from her, which means of course she had her cell phone on her. That means you’re our ace here, Yasuho!”

Yasuho looked determinedly at the pleading Hato, having already shoved her binder under her arm in order to turn her attention to her cell phone. A signature electric blue aura encased her arm, and she quickly had an answer.

Yasuho offered Paisley Park’s findings. “She’s in an alley at the Mutsukabe Promenade, or at least her phone is.”

Josuke grimaced. “Mutsukabe Promenade? You mean 2.416 kilometers away Mutsukabe Promenade?”

“That’s right outside of her school,” Hato chimed in.

“Yeah, but that spot is a dangerous place, girls. Joshu and I were there before, and the whole strip is possessed by a ghostly ability!” He pointed onwards. “Come on, Daiya might be getting held up right now!”

Hato’s intoxication was siphoned right out of her.

“Hey, calm down,” Yasuho offered an alleviating smile. “I remember, something bad like this happened to you a few years ago, right?”

Hato nodded with a heavy head and heavy heart.

“Don’t worry, no matter what’s happened, JoJo will be able to stop it!”

Chapter Text

Daiya was now held captive, tight in a ghostly grasp. One of Ruri’s arms pinned both of Daiya’s to her chest, while the other was clamped on Daiya’s chin, wrestling control over her neck joints.

“What the hell are you doing?” Unable to turn her head even if she wanted to, Daiya had to yell at the wall in front of her.

“It’s okay, my love, it’s all over now.” Daiya felt sick.

“Get off of me!” California King Bed erupted from Daiya, wriggling around Ruri but failing to do anything to free its master. It seemed almost as if it was scanning her, instead.

“Oh what’s wrong, Daiya? Don’t you still want someone to spend your years with? This is your last chance at happiness.”

Daiya nearly vomited, and her legs started to give out, leaving her supported only by Ruri’s arms.

“Come on, just turn your head around. I’ll go with you, we’ll be together forever. Your life here is limited anyways. Come to eternity with me, Dai-ya.”

The trio had arrived at the exact spot Paisley Park had given them, facing a plain - if neglected - wall between a convenience store and a taller building that was straight up abandoned. Two places that were easy to miss in the overwhelming beauty of the ginkgo trees.

“Hey, what the hell? Where’s the alley?” Hato frantically asked.

Yasuho scratched against her forehead, trying to think. “Paisley couldn’t be wrong, could she…?”

Josuke instantly shut down her doubts. “No way.” Josuke leaned against the wall himself, making its surface ripple like a pond. “It’s some kind of illusion.”

Soft & Wet showed itself behind Josuke, staring dead on at the wall. “Stand back.”

A bubble spun across from Soft & Wet’s palm over to the wall. Its lopsided rotation made more and more distortions against the wall, before it managed to phase straight into it.

Josuke’s bubble popped, and the distortions turned into a full hole ground into the middle of the wall. Everybody gasped as the dark, winding alleyway before them was revealed, and standing at the forefront was Daiya, held in the grasp of another, paler girl.

Hato cried out for her. “Daiya!”

Soft & Wet reeled its arm back, a small bubble forming on each knuckle as it made a fist. It began pounding against the rest of the wall, groupings of bubbles popping and warping it open as it did.

“ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ARA ORA!”

Ruri scowled as the barrier which her hold over the avenue had erected was reduced to a pile of dust. “That’s-?”

For Daiya, there were some streaks of green, blue, and red standing next to each other. Fully known to her, however, was Josuke’s Stand.

“Josuke!” Daiya should have called her for sister, but the sight of that man made her feel as though she had been made to confront her sins before she died.

“Let her go!” Josuke commanded, holding Soft & Wet’s fists before Daiya’s face like a loaded gun pointed towards the ghost. “Are you some ransom seeking shithead? Or were you sent for Yotsuyu Yagiyama?”

“Who?”

“Get off of her!” Hato shrieked as she dashed to join Josuke.

Ruri smirked.

“Fine.”

She let go of Daiya, whose Stand stayed coiled around her. She threw her to the ground, ever so gently pushing her neck backwards.

All air seemed to rush backwards like a tide. A dark cloud seeded behind Daiya, who had been paralyzed. Two of them came rushing out of it, each one constricting around one of her arms.

They were simply wrong things, scrawling amalgamations of fibers, branches, and steel twisted together in a mocking of the form of hands. Another one took hold of California King Bed, yanking it away from Ruri, although one of its satellites stayed tethered to her knee.

“ORA!”

Soft & Wet tried punching one, but Josuke felt an immediate shock rattle through him, pulling blood out of his nose. These were no Stand power.

Josuke could see the life in Daiya’s eyes going dull, and had to respond fast.

Soft & Wet grabbed Daiya’s arms too, placing little bubbles around them. He tore his own shirt off and threw it on Daiya, where the bubbles sucked it up by the corners until it split and the green fabric bloated the bubbles up in sight, prying the hands off of Daiya as they exploded fabric over the scene as Daiya turned over, limp but thankfully alive. The hands came back for her, but were impeded by a new, car sized bubble which scooped Daiya up and floated her away.

“I’ll explain this in simple terms,” Josuke wagged his finger towards the aggressor, straightening out his disturbed hat. “Just now I had to fill my soap bubbles with the fabric from my shirt so that the force from them popping and yanking those things away wouldn’t dislocate Daiya’s shoulders. It was her shirt or mine, and I still have this fishnet undershirt to wear, so I’m not too upset, but I’ve decided the loss of that shirt cost you any mercy we would’ve shown you!”

Hato’s heels clicked under her as she heartbrokenly stared at Daiya. “Josuke, please stand back. I’d like to handle this myself.” Hato’s flaring eyes stared down Ruri with a dark determination behind them. She raised her right leg up, facing her heel out towards Daiya’s captor.

The tip of the heel suddenly shot out, extending and lengthening until it forcefully pierced straight through Ruri. With an uncanny lack of blood coming from her, Ruri screamed in panic and hatred.

A tall effigy of Hato’s self had manifested next to her. Its body took on the form of a mannequin, but was mostly covered up by strands of royal purple wood, with hair made of the same material. Its face was too consumed by the strands, leaving it emotionless except for burning yellow eyes. A similarly golden ruffled skirt adorned its flared hips, from which dangled a heart emblem which also appeared on the Stands chest.

"King of Wishful Thinking!”

Hato’s Stand took a swinging strike at her heel, which sent the force from the hit traveling down the heel’s length until it collided with the girl skewered on the end.

“USSSHAAA!”

It unleashed several more hits, the beating twisting Ruri’s spiritual form around until one hit’s energy took a shot at her neck, pushing her chin up and forcing her eyes over her shoulders.

California King Bed was released from its imprisonment - remaining floating with one limb tied around Ruri’s leg - and the dark cloud twisted around to Ruri’s spot. Everybody watched with horror as she was brought in by the ghostly limbs herself.

“Stop!” she wailed. “I-I won’t go alone! Don’t make me go alone!”

“You’re wrong.”

Daiya had stirred with the bubble, sitting up to look at her former confidant with grief. “Didn’t you want to remember?”

“Cali-fornya!” Daiya’s Stand turned aglow, a sphere of light like a crystal ball projecting from the unit twisted around her leg, which had swung loose and floated back to the central head.

“California showed me, even though you didn’t fuss over me this time.”

The memory was cold. Ruri was surrounded by dusty air, and consumed by a copper scent of what she figured was her own blood. She figured she should be in incomparable pain, but shock had made it all numb to her.

Such a screw up she couldn’t even off herself right.

“Oh my God!” a silvery voice emerged from the silence, accompanied by bootsteps running to Ruri’s side. She felt what thought was her wrist being grabbed., as her vision was filled with emerald. A pale skinned man looked solemnly down on her with one eye, the other covered by a strip of oil black bangs creeping from the rim of a puffed out beret.

“Did you do this to yourself?”

“Yeah… It’s alright, just go,” Ruri wheezed out, resigning herself to her fate.

The overseeing man rubbed his hand across his face in frustration. “I’m sorry, I’m a doctor but, I can’t save you now. If my mother were with me, she could, but I’m not half the healer she is. But, I won’t leave you. I won’t have you die alone.” He took her hand, and everything started fuzzing out.

“You jumped at night, but you were found by a doctor,” Daiya revealed.

“No way,” Yasuho clung to Josuke’s arm. “That’s really… Yoshikage Kira.”

Was that coincidence, or Fate?

Daiya smiled. “You were never alone.”

Ruri’s form faded away with bittersweet tears stained along her eyes; She was taken backwards by the arms, never again to grace the Earth.

“Daiya…”

Daiya laid on the ground, gently released from Josuke’s bubble.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing she had the strength left to say, after all the shock she had taken in in only a few minutes. She kept hoping maybe it was a bad dream she’d wake up from and forget all about.

“It’s not your fault Daiya,” Yasuho took initiative to reassure her. Daiya meekly shook her head.

“To Josuke, I mean. About when we met, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright Daiya, I forgive you,” Josuke shook his head. “I never meant for something like this to happen, it’s just…” Josuke decided to explain to Daiya what all had happened to him over the weekend. Sans, of course, any details involving Jobin.

“JoJo, I can’t imagine going through all that! I wish I could help you somehow, but just know I’ll be here for you always!” She blushed a little bit, a welcome sight of color returning to her face. “Also, you and Yasuho are a really cute couple.”

With Daiya getting enough baring to stand up again, the group glumly departed the alley, leaving the lonely avenue empty for what they hoped would be forevermore.

“Hey Daiya,” Hato grabbed her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I’m proud of you, actually. Remember, you said your Stand acted differently, didn’t you?” Daiya nodded. “Well, I’ve always seen it that a Stand is the shape of your heart. That means your heart is stronger, sis. You’ve overcome your own limits.”

Daiya hugged her tight and cried into her.

“Soooo, I’ve decided that I do believe in ghosts!”

“Oh, goodie! What made you change your mind?”

Daiya wagged her head a little in exasperation. “Long story.”

“No way!” Kohaku clapped her hands in excitement. “Tell me you didn’t really see a ghost!”

“Se-e-cret,” Daiya shushed.

“By the way, your makeup today looks really nice.”

“Thanks, my big sister did it for me,” Daiya fidgeted. “Hey, actually, Kohaku, do you want to go to the aquarium with me this Friday? I’ll pay for you!”

Hato met Daiya as soon as she walked in the door, having been waiting all day to see the outcome of pushing to get her to ask someone out.

“How’d it go how'd it go?”

Daiya grinned hard and winked at her, “Shh don’t say it in front of dad.”

Norisuke furled his brow up from the newspaper. “Don’t say what in front of dad?”

“Hey daddy," Daiya clapped her hands together as if commanding his train of thought to get distracted. “Do you think soon you could bring me up to the parlor with you again? I’d like to start doing work for the Company, if I could.”

“Well, I don’t know abou-” he tried to turn Daiya down, but got ribbed by Hato’s elbow. Taking a look over his bowing daughter, he changed his tune. “Well, sure thing sweetheart. I suppose that’d be good for you.”

Daiya smiled. It seemed like lots of things were good for her now.

The chessboard on her window sill stood empty now, as she had decided that sharing a memory was much better than hoarding it.

“Tut tut tut,” Toru smacked the antique paper he had just purchased in his hand. “I can’t believe they all missed this.”

He ran his finger across the title of the documents as he freed them of their laminated cocoon. 

“RESEARCH & REPORT: ‘LOCACACA FRUIT’ OF THE SOLOMAN ISLANDS”

“Thanks Yasuho, you’ve always been so good at finding things for me.”

She still knew about it, but he’d see to it that she was safe. If only she would stay away from that troublesome Josuke Higashikata.

Around a week later, Isamu Otoishi was driving home, doing a lap around the night town city streets of Morioh.

“What the hell?”

He slammed the breaks, rapidly parking on the street. He had just passed his beloved atelier, and the door was ajar, quite uncharacteristic of its usual state of being locked like the gates of a heavenly fortress.

Apprehensively, he tiptoed up to the door, and carefully pushed it in, entering the building.

He nearly leapt out of his own skin in fright.

“What in the hell! Show yours-, huh?” His eyes adjusted to the small source lamp light flicked on and he was able to tell a name and face to the intruder.

“Why are you here?”

She had hair, a lot of hair. Red like a crisp apple and curled from a peak above her forehead all the way down to her waist, and that was with some of it held in by a goldfish-patterned headband. She had on a plethora of cheap makeup and shell-adorned socks spanning up to her knees, the latter somewhat poorly partnered with a pair of gladiator sandals. She huddled herself with a long but open vest, the only thing offering her some actual coverage and warmth compared to her zipped down tube top and the shorts shorts her underwear tailed out of.

“Ah sorry man but,” she coughed, a poorly regarded scent on her breath as she tried rubbing some of the red out of her eyes, “I kind of had a freak out about school work, and wanted to crash here.”

“What’s your name again? ‘Karera’, right? You think just because you hung around of my clients that means you can play vagabond in my workspace without my supervision?!”

“Wow! Don’t go acting like we’re just mutuals, man! What happened to me, the genius fashion student who you’d train as your personal successor?”

Isamu couldn't quite remember ever promising such a thing. He was only 33 for Pete’s sake! Why would he need a successor?

Then he realized.

“Hey, wait a minute. Before you came here with Yoshikage Kira, right? And some other boy…”

“Yeah yeah, that old douche Kira dragged us here so he could get one of his precious identical sailor suits. What a dork.”

How could he be so stupid as to overlook her?

“Uh, stay there, Karera. I need to call somebody real quick.”

“Ugh, finally home.” Isamu nearly stumbled out of his car, apprehensive about the type of thing he was involving himself in.

“You’re fine, Isamu, you just made a phone call is all. Helping some missed connections.”

Suddenly, he was being suffocated. Everything had gone darker than the night’s sky, as his head felt like it was gonna be pulled straight off his neck.

“Otona Blue!” Isamu gasped as his Stand unthreaded the sack that had been placed over his head. Not allowing him to savor his freedom, his attacker punched him straight in the face, the impact nullifying his stamina as his mouth was duct taped around. 

Isamu was dragged kicking and streaming into a van painted so jet black it had blended in with the night time sky. Hands and feet bound together with rope, he was accosted away, silence returning to the night.

He had been brought to somewhere along the coast, any way to determine his exact location lost to him. The rope around his feet were cut, allowing him to stand up and walk out of the van at the guide of his captor. His eyes better adjusted to darkness now, he realized with terror that the ones who put him in this state was one of the very same A.Phex Brothers he had encountered near the studio before.

He held a gun to his temple. “Don’t yell,” he coldly instructed in the same sing-song voice.

The stubble on Isamu's face was ripped off with the duct tape, allowing him to try and catch up on oxygen intake as he stared with fright down into the waters below him. Both sides of the van’s cab opened and shut with somebody getting out of them, but he dared not look until both had walked in front of him.

He gasped. One was the matching A.Phex Brother, but standing alongside them was 

“Tamaki!”

Isamu thought his friend may have been captured too, but he was not looking at a prisoner. Tamaki Damo stood confidently, even tauntingly.

“W-What’s going on?” Isamu's fear had started to turn into unrivaled rage.

“Interception,” Damo answered. “We’ve accomplished the mission, monitor you in order to find when Karera Sakunami appeared.”

“Monitor? Damn it, I should’ve figured! How could I have let myself be swayed by such street trash like him! ” Isamu's thoughts were things he knew it best to not say out loud.

“That girl? I’m not affiliated with her I swear! She just came hanging around one of my customers before!”

The penny dropped.

“N-No, you aren’t-”

“That customer would be one Dr.Yoshikage Kira, wouldn’t he?” Damo smiled. “That girl was present at a previous, let’s say altercation, we had with Kira.”

“So you’re gonna silence her? Some dumb brat like that? Fine, just untie me already!”

“Not yet; We’ve determined you may be a hazard at leaking information toward Yoshikage Kira’s partner.”

“N-No no no no! It’s not what you think!”

“Oh, is he not being harbored by the Higashikata Family?”

“He doesn’t know who the hell he is, Tamaki! Are you gonna execute a man for a crime he has no conscious mind of committing?”

Tamaki Damo punched him square in the nose. “Don’t you tell me how the hell I run my business.” Damo shoved the same fist down in Isamu's pocket, and fished out his cellphone.

“Well well well, it looks like right here, shortly after you encountered Karera Sakunami, you made a phone call to Hato Higashikata.”

“You leave her out of this!” Isamu's screamed, not trying to break his bonds. He tried having his Stand needle away at it, but was pistol whipped for his troubles by the red A.Phex Brother.

“Don’t bother, we’ve been aware for a while that he’s being harbored by the Higashikata Family, but there are certain things we need to investigate before we take action.”

Isamu screamed and yelled in desperation. “It wasn’t like that, I was just saying goodnight to her!”

“Well, I hope it was a pleasant farewell.”

Damo began to walk away.

“Wait, Tamaki, come on! We were friends! I won’t talk, I’ll skip town even! Go back to Florence! You don’t need to kill me! I can be spared!”

Damo stopped, but didn’t turn around. “You’re right, I will spare you.” He gave a hand signal to the Brothers.

Isamu let out the biggest sigh of relief in recorded history.

“Spare you from torture.”

Bang

Chapter Text

“So that’s a total of six gunshot homicides and one gunshot suicide?”

They were in a small room with a strange aura. It was perfectly square, with no windows and one notable feature on each wall. Of course there was the wall with a door to come in. On one side were a desk with an odd looking laptop computer, and the other a large display panel, showcasing crude 3D dioramas of a variety of ways to die. Finally opposite the door was a fleshy, clouded pod, with tubes running up from it to the roof and back down into the computer panel.

This room was the most well kept secret of the Morioh Medical Examiner’s Office. It was - in its entirety - a Stand ability, the one possessed by the top mind known to Japan’s forensic pathology community, one Ella Ishizuchi.

“You’re really working me to the bone here, y’know,” Ishizuchi fiddled with the laptop, her face pressed with disquietude.

She was scoffed at by one of her three visitors, the drug lord Tamaki Damo, who was leaning against the wall on his shoulder. “Rest assured you shall be amply compensated,” he coldly said.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ella demanded of him. “Since when did you get the idea you and your goons could barge in here without supervision?” she grabbed him by the collar and spoke in a whisper. “I don’t want to be in range of these… freaks.” She referred to Tamaki Damo’s company, The A.Phex Brothers.

“Calm down dear,” Tamaki Damo disregarded her concern, gesturing to a briefcase possessed by the elder brother.

“You better hope there’s enough in there for seven,” Ella taunted.

“Ten,” Damo said bluntly.

“Pardon?” Ella blinked, extra static seeming to frizz up her hair.

“Ten, there’s been three more incidents outside of that gang fight.”

Ella was appalled. “You’re joking. What the hell are you out there doing, you’re gonna get us found out - us all found out!”

“Don’t blame me,” Damo growled, but quickly regained composure and locked his fingers together. “Two of them are… Yotsuyu Yagiyama & Aisho Dainenjiyama.”

“What?! Those are your guys!”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” Damo’s eyes had a storm of quiet fury hiding in them. “My Aisho died on hospital property. He’s currently considered missing, and he’ll need to be dead from injuries obtained via being struck head on by bus, with corpse condition consistent with exposure to the elements and animals.”

Ella growled and rapidly typed on the laptop, entering the information she had been acquiring in. The screen displayed an animation of a dummy being shot, which multiplied into six sections all playing the same clip in sync. The pod started rumbling, and spit out the corpse of a young man who died by a gunshot wound, covered in a disgusting fluid. The face was that of one of the gangsters the A.Phex Twins had recently slaughtered. One of the video squares went black, while the process repeated as the Stand’s “order” was fulfilled.

“So who did it? Who’s got us?”

“Will you stop freaking out?” Damo nearly slapped her. Her usefulness to the cartel was matched only by her lack of confidence in such matters. “He’s the partner of Yoshikage Kira, but apparently he’s been rendered with amnesia, and has no memories of his previous activities. He’ll be eliminated in time.”

“Eliminated? Again?” Ella flopped her arms, as the Brothers started dragging the fake corpses into the morgue on the other side of the door. “You know no matter what fake bodies my Stand can provide people are gonna get suspicious if you keep piling up murders like this!”

“In time!”  Damo angrily reiterated. “I have… aspirations, for dealing with him.” Damo grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “On the other hand, I’m afraid there will soon be one more person who needs to be dealt with on the double.”

Ella groaned harder as her Stand, Trout Mask Replica, spit out the gang leader’s body, whose head had mostly collapsed from the self-inflicted gunshot wound. “So who’s the tenth.”

“Another associate of Kira’s: Isamu Otoishi, tailor, 33, death by…” Damo hummed in creativity for a moment. “Cocaine overdose, body recovered from water.”

Damo produced a photo of Isamu for reference, as Trout Mask Replica required both a name and a face for its function.

Damo mourned the pod’s next creations. It was Yotsuyu, who had hung himself, and Aisho, who was horribly mutilated.

Revenge was on the horizon.

“Thanks for your services,” Damo said as he signaled Aguajito to take the fake Isamu with them.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t barge in here unannounced anymore; Or if you do, leave those two behind. Who the hell even are they?”

“Are you familiar with the practice of drug kingpins owning illegal tigers and rhinos on their property? Well, there once was one such man who decided to go a step further. His soldiers discovered a duo of ‘Rock Humans’, and he decided he wanted them as his own. For years they were living furniture in a house of death and gore, until one day they rebelled and slaughtered everybody on the property; They fled on the first boat they found and happened to end up near Sendai, where eventually we found them.”

Ella was visibly disturbed by this tale.

 “Please rest assured, as long as you comply you will be faithfully rewarded, and harm will not befall you or your family,” he purred, “I’m a man of my word.”

“Her name’s Karera Sakunami, her family’s from Sapporo, she was studying fashion at one point , but it seems like she might have dropped out of it,” Paisley Park’s shoulders shrugged over Yasuho’s. “She really doesn’t have much else of a footprint.”

Josuke stood in Yasuho’s home, making a rare appearance outside of his sailor suit. He had elected only to don Isamu's fishnet undershirt, although the hat stayed on.

“Are you sure this is trustworthy?” Yasuho fawned at his side, concerned for the big moment he was on the cusp of. She was dolled up in a monochrome striped top wrapped in tight overalls.

“Absolutely, I may not be chummy-chummy with him, but I believe Isamu Otoishi is somebody who tells the truth.”

A short while ago Hato had received a phone call from that diva tailor, asking to speak to Josuke.

He had found somebody who knew who he was. A girl who came into the store once following Yoshikage Kira on account of trying to reach a mutual friend, a friend who was potentially Josuke’s other half.

Yasuho kissed him deeply, on the lips first, then pecking at his cheek and neck as he readied himself for what the two could only pray was the break of a lifetime. “Whoever you are, I love you.”

Josuke brushed her bangs around.  “Let’s go, darling.”

Isamu had advised Josuke to look for the girl at a local club, which had people packed in it like sardines in a tin. He took a deep breath and allowed Yasuho to walk him into the utopia of neon lights and pounding rave music, desperately looking up and down at every woman-shaped object searching for the one who matched Isamu's description.

“What’s her name again?” Yasuho quizzed him, “Claire something?”

“Karera Sakunami, apparently,” Josuke answered. “Although I’m not certain how you’re meant to write it.”

“Hey tough guy,” an overly drunk woman in a scanty dress had suddenly leapt on him from the dance floor. “Why don’t you let me see what’s under that hat.”

“Beat it,” Josuke pried her off him. “I have a girl.”

It was nice to be able to say that.

His pupils turned wide as he turned his head while Yasusho chased off the drooling bimbo trying to stay latched to him.

Curly scarlet hair layered over itself, a silhouette defined by an open vest and backpack, over-designed shoes. He saw her!

“ That’s… Karera! The girl who knows me!”

He rushed over to her, pushing through the rest of the dance floor to where she was trying to hit up a bearded big shot with a gold chain necklace.

Jossuke truthfully hadn’t anticipated making it this far, so the only way he could think to start was a simplistic “Hey.”

She seemed a bit annoyed as she turned away from the oh-so-classy suitor, but her face soon jolted with genuine recognition.

“Holy shit, JoJo?”

Josuke’s brow furrowed. “ How in the world?”

Before he could scrutinise her further, she suddenly became hyper with excitement and relief. “Holy- I haven’t seen you since- I mean damn, I never thought I’d see you again!” 

Something about her seemed hesitant, and Josuke was left still more frustrated than anything. She certainly seemed to recognize him, but he still was unsure of exactly who this woman would’ve been to him, or if it was wise to tell her of his state.

“Did your cell end up being ruined?” she asked, trying to fill the silence and lack of movement Josuke gave her, “I tried calling you before.”

“Oh, I don’t have a phone now, actually.”

“No phone?” Karera laughed at him, “How have you been managing?”

Yasuho had slowly been working her way up to re-entering Josuke’s orbit, uncertain of how directly she should present herself with him.

“Erm, he’s been managing with me,” she stated, trying to sound indignant but really just coming across as awkward.

Karera Sakunami side-eyed her.

“Oh, this is Yasuho,” Josuke said, rubbing across her shoulder before taking her to bow with him. Yasuho looked at him expectedly, but he simply continued, “A lot of stuff has happened, Karera. But, you can still trust me, honest.”

“A lot of stuff,” she huffed. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Josuke’s neck swiveled between Karera and Yasuho. He forced a chuckle and said, “Oh-! No, no! It’s not like-” he swallowed.

“Not like what?” Yasuho asked back, looking him in the eyes and clawing at his heart.

The tension on Karera’s face came back, an oddly serene look for a not very stoic woman. “Ugh, don’t give me that. I’m not mad or anything, just, y’know,” she nibbled on her fingernails. “Sometimes I still think about when we kissed, alright? Sorry if that’s creepy.”

“Not at all, Karera. I mean, sure I do sometimes,” Josuke lied. “I mean, I’d like to talk about ‘us’, if that’s what you need.”

“Nah, I’m not in the style of dwelling on the past. Forget I brought it up.”

Josuke cursed to himself, before Yasuho pulled him to the side. She didn’t speak, until angrily stared at him.

“Yasuho?” he cocked his head. “Come on, a girl as smart as you should know better than to think I have any affection for…” he let Yasuho look over his shoulder at Karera ungraciously chugging down another glass of beer. “I don’t know what kind of stuff my past self was into, but, this whole scene isn’t me,” he waved around to their surroundings, “ you are.” He leant down and kissed her cheek.

The tingle of it made Yasuho feel detached for a moment. The club music blared in her head, and the smell of stale booze burnt her nose like she was in a gallery of bad memories of her mum. And there, in front of her, was the sweetest, suavest, hottest man on Earth: A guy with four balls, who she pulled out of the dirt, and the roughly four times he had - through no fault of his own - almost gotten her killed.

And yet, she wouldn’t give him up for anything. Nothing compared to being in his presence. As crazy as she sounded to herself, it really was worth it.

“What has my life come to?” she half-joked, throwing her arms around Josuke. “I trust you, but no more play-acting from you tonight,” she put her foot down, “Drill this girl for your name and then let’s beat it, understood?”

“Understood.”

In typical for fashion for them, they still managed to be interrupted within the couple seconds it took to walk back towards Karera; Thankfully, instead of a random encounter with a new wannabe murderer, it was just Josuke saying “I’m sorry about that, by the way,” which got Yasuho to stop moving.

“Yassy?”

She smiled bittersweetly. “My ex never apologised to me.”

“Well, he sounds like a piece of work.”

When the couple made it back to Karera’s barstool, she greeted with “He-y, you two don’t have a spare couch, do you?I kind of ran myself out of cash getting back here. I wanted to crash at that dude Otoishi’s place but he threw me out, like a JERK,” she punctuated in a slur.

“Well, I actually don’t stay with her to be honest,” Alright, lying was the wrong track, vague honestly would be Josuke’s policy now. “She still lives with her mom, and I’m crashing with somebody totally different, and unfortunately their place is pretty packed.”

Karera groaned to herself. “Son of a biiiitch. Guess I gotta pull out the old Sakunami Hustle.”

Karera dashed off, doing a funny little wobble-walk which showcased her hips. Josuke blushed as his thoughts made him wonder what Yasuho would look like in that sort of outfit, before he shook himself back on task and followed her.

By the time Josuke and Yasuho caught back up to his apparent old friend, she was making some kind of scene at a food stand.

“Hey! What the fuck kind of yakitori shop are you running here?” she barked in the chef’s face like a little lap dog, shoving her food towards him. “You see this? There’s a fucking hair in here! You expect people to eat your greasy pubes?”

The shop owner looked at her in disgust. “Ma’am, would you like me to call you a sober cab. There’s clearly no hair in that food.”

“Oh please! Take a nice long look! Better yet,” Karera grabbed the man’s hand and started guiding it down towards her skewered chicken, “why don’t you have a touch. Go ahead, pinch!”

As the owner’s fingers came close together, the skewer suddenly was hoisted in the air, suspended by a thick strand of hair piercing straight the middle of the meat.

“See, bastard! I’ll call the health department on your ass! Don’t you have the dignity to wear a hairnet while you’re kneading your damn chicken?”

Like magic, the owner actually started to be intimidated, muttering out excuses.

“Tell you what, I’m a kind girl. I understand accidents can happen, so I promise I won’t tell you if you give me a little hush hush cash, plus a full refund obviously.”

“But-”

“And I have no problem submitting to a DNA test, y’know. I hope you’re that confident.”

The owner hung his head in defeat and slipped Karera the tune of nearly 6000 yen.

She wobbled away, returning to Josuke in absolute ecstasy.

“Fuck yeah! 6000! Gosh I can eat like a queen from the bargain store now! Ugh, I gotta get pads too though.”

“Uh, Karera? If that guy really did leave a hair in your food, couldn’t you sue him for way more than 6000 yen?”

“Well, hypothetically yeah, but considering the nature of my game I find it best not to push my luck.”

“Game?”

As she hop-skipped away from the scene, Josuke and Yasuho understood. Next to her was what could only be a Stand!

It looked closer to a human than any they had ever seen, with exaggeratedly feminine proportions, a full afro of hair, and a dress made of fur with boots to match. Its cream yellow body and smooth head still missed the mark however, although the slit going from one side of its cheek to the other did create some illusion of a mouth.

“That’s called ‘Love Love Deluxe’, JoJo!”

“‘Love… Love’?”~

“Yeah, you know, as in like ‘lovey dovey’?”

Josuke failed to understand what sappy crushes had to do with making hair, but went along with it anyways.

Yasuho stood with her arms crossed. “So, you have a miraculous spiritual super power, and you use it to scam restaurants?”

“Hey hey!” Karera threw her hands up. “I provide legitimate service too! Hair regrowth is a huge industry!”

“If you can instantly cure male pattern baldness, shouldn’t you be super loaded?!” Yasuho was exasperated. “Why are you out here bumming on the streets dressed like a cheap hooker if you have a get rich quick button like that sitting in your pocket?”

“Well, you know like I said, I like keeping a low profile. Plus, let’s be real, Love Love’s hair is pretty volatile, and only grows where somebody touches. Even if I regrow a guy’s entire scalp, it’ll only last a week or so, so I don’t charge a lot! What’s fair is fair!”

Yasuho rolled her eyes while Josuke nodded. 

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that!” She huffed, “Did Yoshikage get in your head telling you I’m a whore and shit?”

“She wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything, Karera,” Josuke assured. “Even if she was, how you spend your time is not my business.”

 “Don’t you… want it to be your business?”

Josuke didn’t say anything back.

“I really did care about you, you know. I’ve been thinking about you since I came back to this city.”

“Karera, I’ll tell you flat out, nothing like that is gonna happen.”

She pulled her bandana off her head, letting all of hair fall loose around her face. “Yeah, I know. I’m still glad I found you though.” Her eyes started to get puffy with tears. “We’ll still be friends, won’t we?”

“Yeah,” Josuke rushed through. “We can just go on like before, it doesn’t have to be complicated,” he offered, secretly begging for her to just say his real name already.

“Jesus I’m sorry, dude, I’m just drunk y’know. I just haven’t really talked to anybody in a while.” she started fully crying, wiping her eyes with her headband.

“Hey, hey.” Josuke’s logical side failed to appeal to his pity, and he brought her in for a hug, earning a glare from Yasuho. “What about your family, huh?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I told you I didn’t see them back home, didn’t I? They’re off living life, good for them.”

“You don’t want to try and reconcile?” Josuke tried to offer peace to her, even though he had no real context for the girl’s worries.

“Nope.” She hiccuped and laughed. “What really matters is the here and now. Who cares about the past? I live for the present! Living your life so the ‘now’ is a treasured, fun, wonderful experience, that’s happiness!”

“ Who cares about the past ?” Josuke thought, biting his lip. “ I do .”

“Well, there is some stuff I don’t wanna let go of. Back then my phone broke, but I got all the photos transferred on the new one. You remember this?”

Josuke could’ve screamed.

Karera was showing him a photo on her phone, three people hanging out in front of a fence. She was one of them, closest to the camera’s selfie angle. Farthest away was Yoshikage Kira, looking disinterested in the whole situation.

And in the middle was… him .

He was wearing a darling little collared shirt, with pines of a heart and a peace sign. His skin was like Josuke’s mostly was, and his eyes were deep blue like half of Josuke’s were. The one thing telling them apart was his hair, a compact pompadour. But other than that, he even had a star shaped birthmark scarred on his left shoulder, peeking out from his shirt like the sun from behind clouds. Josuke was looking at Josuke.

“You really do look like a different person. If you’re still hiding from those guys, you’ve done a great job.” If only she knew it wasn’t good enough. “Did Yoshikage Kira’s wisdom keep you hidden from the world?” Josuke was choking on air. “Don’t worry, I’d never sell you out, JoJo.”

“Why…” Yasuho looked wide-eyed at her photo. “Why do you call him that?”

“Hm, don’t you get it?” Karera weighted her lips with emboldened emphasis on the syllables of her next words.

“ Jo sefumi Ku jo .”

“ ...My Name is… Josefumi Kujo .”

Chapter Text

“Hey! Nice ass!”

“The hell did you just say to me?”

Karera’s argument with a particularly slobbering street drunk faded away for Josuke, his ears were ringing as he felt the weight of everything he had been through come crashing down on him.

“Just like that… She just called me, Josefumi.” He stared intensely at Yasuho, whose irritation was all washed away by relief and excitement. “She knew me for sure, and all about Kira, and she knows whatever they did! She has to know why Yotsuyu was after me…”

Karera flipped the entire street the bird and waved for the two to come with her.

“Psst, this is a big secret, but I just used Love Love Deluxe to hook that ogling jerk’s credit card!” Karera eagerly brought the card to the nearest ATM - on a lonely street corner - and swiped it. “Check out what I’ve learned to do!” she pointed at the number pad on the ATM, which had four of the numbers spawning hairs of varying lengths. “They’re growing up in the order of the PIN code! Aren’t I a genius?” She brought 20000 yen out of the man’s bloated checking account. “That’ll teach him for disrespecting a lady! You think I’m a classy girl, don’t you JoJo? Even just a little bit? It costs a lot of money to look this cheap, y'know. Come on, let’s go drink our troubles away!”

Once situated at another bar, Karera’s rabid temperament had cooled down a great deal. She was now calmly plugging in a laptop which turned out to be taking up most of her backpack.

“Pretty nice, isn’t it? I confess, this is actually what I spent most of my money on. Totally worth it though, I’m gonna be a world famous fashion designer! I’ll even put that jerk Otoishi in his place!”

“What does a laptop have to do with designing clothes?” Yasuho ask.

“Well, I can’t draw for shit you know! Looks like a kindergartener! But with this computer, I can model everything in 3D software!”

Josuke took a miniscule sip of the drink Karera had ordered for him, not taking much to the taste, while Yasuho just mushed about some crummy bar chips.

“Not into it, Josefumi? Don’t worry, I got pot in my bag for later.”

“Later, where exactly?”

“Well jeez I dunno, don’t you two got a single spot of privacy? Fuck it, let’s go hit up Kira.”

Josuke disregarded the drinks entirely. “Karera, didn’t you hear? Yoshikage Kira died.”

All the color drained from her face, and Josuke saw from the way her drink was rippling that she was shaking in fright.

“H-how’d he die? You don’t think he was murdered, do you?”

“What?”

“Ah shit. Things are still worse than I thought,” she lamented, downing her whole glass.

“Karera, what exactly is going on? You just said you thought Kira was murdered, how come? What makes you so afraid?”

“What do you mean? You know better than anybody!”

He knew it would come to this.

“Alright Karera, I’m gonna fess up. I don’t know how Yoshikage Kira died, but he was found buried in the Wall Eyes. I was next to him, and seem to have undergone an ‘equivalent exchange’ with Kira because of the power there.”

“JoJo?”

“I was buried too, and survived, but I don’t have any memories.”

“You’re shitting me,” Karera rested her hands on her forehead, pulling up her eyelids and making herself look freaked out.

“It’s the truth; I know we were friends, but I was only able to come to you because of how you went to see the tailor. An hour ago, I didn’t even know my name was Josefumi Kujo. It’s true that I’ve fought people who have come after me, so please! I need you to tell me what I did with Kira!”

“It was a tree.”

“Tree?”

Karera put her arm over her mouth in shock, trying to keep calm as she recounted her story.

“You and Yoshikage Kira had part of a ‘Locacaca Tree’, in Kira’s apartment,and were trying to plant it somewhere.”

“And?”

“That’s all I got!” Karera held her hands up! "On God! I don’t know where that tree disappeared to, but later I saw you guys and some thugs on a boat when it exploded! I guess that’s when you and Kira ended up in those Wall Eyes, but when that happened I skipped town until now.”

Karera threw some of her money at the bartender. “Come on, I wanna go,” she said, rounding up her laptop.

By the time they all crawled out the bar the streets were absolutely deserted, only filled with the rattling of the wind swinging an old chain fence. “Well, shit, I’m sorry Josefumi.” She looked over at Yasuho. “And you, you seem like a re-al nice catch, sincerely. I’m glad to see you two happy together.”

Yasuho gently nodded. “We really appreciate your help.”

Yasuho’s ambition of a quick departure was squashed when a dark, featureless van pulled up to them. The driver’s side door peeled open without the engine stopping, and the driver silently presented himself. An oafish, buzz cut sideburned fellow in a scarlet football uniform.

“Can we help you?” Yasuho asked incredulously as the driver flipped open his van’s gasp cap, and he stuck a finger inside. He pointed his other hand straight towards Karera. It was gloved by darkness, blacker than the night sky was. As if his limbs were a vacuum tube, a great puddle of gas was siphoned out of the van and sprayed out from his blackened hand onto Karera, soaking her clothes.

He shut the gas cap and got back in his van. He rolled the window down without a word, and stuck his hand out again.

This time, there was a lit lighter gripped by it.

He carelessly tossed the lighter at Karera, who started screaming with the agony of the damned in Hell as her body was consumed by oily flame.

“Soft & Wet!”

Josuke suffocated the flames with a flurry of bubbles. Thankfully, the fire died down before it did much damage to anything other than Karera’s clothes.

“Yasuho! Hide!” he screamed. Josuke pushed the limits of his Stand’s range to launch a bubble towards the front right tire of the fleeing vehicle. It impacted with the wheel and blew it clean off, leaving the van to swerve until it spiraled to a stop on the street.

The malicious driver reappeared, while a passenger crept over from the other side. In the dark Josuke couldn’t tell if the two men were actually related, but they had identical hair and beards, and their only difference in clothing was color. The passenger kicked a small ball around at his feet.

“Listen up brother, this is clearly an emergency situation. We’re gonna have to go against the plan,” the older brother, Ajusco Phex, cold heartedly announced. He reached around his waist band and drew a cocked pistol, firing it at Josuke without hesitation.

Josuke almost saw his life flash before his eyes, Soft & Wet harrowingly punching the bullet out of the way. Due to the poor timing of the strike, Josuke’s hand was still scraped open from the force against Soft & Wet’s.

As the sound of the gunshot echoed into silence, Josuke prepared his stand off against his new opponents. Clearly they meant business, he had no wiggle room fighting them.

“Both of you, run away!”

“But-”

“Run!”

The elder brother rushed Josuke first, distracting him from Karera fleeing. Apparently not one for advanced strategy, he merely threw punch after punch at Josuke, with Josuke blocking and then returning the favor with a knuckle punch right against his lips.

From the tips of his fingers, another bubble accompanied the force of the hit, implanting itself in the brother’s cheek before popping, causing a sickening crunch as the elder’s jaw has been dislocated.

Soft & Wet went to follow up with more punches, but the target managed to disregard his injury and back flip out of the way, landing right back on his feet and ready for more.

Josuke was so shocked at the display of raw stamina that he nearly missed the younger brother sneaking behind him and throwing a roundhouse kick, which sent his ball hurling to the sky. Josuke nearly broke his neck performing a last second dodge.

As Josuke was still facing down, he was grabbed by the neck by the elder, who dragged him against the chain fence. He placed his other, normal hand on the fence, the links of which faded away into dust before wrapping around Josuke’s face, being remade through his hand, while a frail bird made of bones - the shape of the two’s Stand abilities - hovered over them.

“Just let Karera go,” he ordered his brother, who had taken the time to get his ball back. “We’re changing the order.” He pulled back his right arm, tightening the chains around Josuke’s neck and face, making them start to cut into him.

“Bastard! Two can place at this game.”

Josuke’s bubble this time rounded up a random chunk of the fence, spinning towards Josuke’s attacker at high speed before it popped furiously, spitting the chunks of metal into his hips and limbs. “I take it your also ‘Rock Humans’, right? I’m not sure of your anatomy, but I’m guessing I just hit at least one vital organ.” Now fully stunned, the brother stood no chance against Soft & Wet’s beatings.

“ORA ORA ARA!”

“Damn it, this is all my fault,” Karera huffed as she and Yasuho witnessed the fight from around a corner. “Those guys were following me looking for that Locacaca plant. I led them right to Josefumi!”

“Your Stand, it’s not good at fighting at all, is it?” Karera shook her head. “Neither is mine. Think Yasuho think!” she beat herself on the head.

“This guy keeps blowing stuff up, sort of.” The younger brother quizzically watched Josuke while still kicking his beloved ball around. “We’re quite near the condo of that dead guy, Kira, who had that same sort of ability…”

The elder brother looked at the younger with hope. “Time for drastic measures, little bro,” he coughed, blood spewing everywhere from his mouth. With the little strength he still had, he threw a sharp piece of fence wire to the younger’s ball. “Start pumping and don’t stop until this little rat is a corpse!”

The younger brother poked his ball open with the wire, a purple radiation swirling around it as a mass of vapor started to emerge.

The Stand  clung around the younger brother’s shoulders. He picked up the deflating ball and ran straight for Josuke, the miasma filling the air until Josuke’s throat started to burn with it.

“What is this?” he rasped out.

“Chemical compound gas: Chlorine and ammonia,” Aguajito said in a strange pride.

Josuke coughed hard as a pile of tiny bubbles came out of his throat, which flew over and spat on the injured elder brother.

“Ha! Good try taking ‘Schottkey Number 2’’s gas out of your lungs with those bubbles, but it has no effect on me and my brother!” Aguajito kneeled down to his wounded brother’s side, offering him the ball to reach inside of, spraying more gas directly in Josuke’s face. The awful concoction seared his eyes, nose, and mouth. 

The older taunted Josuke, “My amazing little brother’s Stand will produce that poison gas forever, it’s the end of the line!”

“This is your Stand then? Moving from the left hand to your right hand? That’s a very simple power, but you’re somehow besting me with it right now.” Josuke’s confidence was waning, but he refused to show it.

“Josefumi!”

Josuke’s heart leapt as he heard Karera yell out. Deciding to retreat to defense, he formed a giant bubble around himself to absorb the impact of whatever was about to happen.

What happened was fire.

Lots of fire, everywhere where the poison gas spread was lit aflame, while the source practically exploded into a fireball, showing the younger A.Phex in embers which completely consumed his clothing and body.

“Aguajito!”

“Put it out!” he screamed, “Put it out!”

Karera smugly crouched with Love Love Deluxe flashing a middle finger behind her. “Hey dipshits, next time you light someone fire don’t leave them your lighter!”

“She used her Stand to bundle up hair and make a wick all the way over here, 915.8 millimeters! Because that poison gas was flammable, she turned this whole street into a giant stick of dynamite!” Josuke smiled, seeing Yasuho behind Karera, and figuring she must’ve devised the plan

Soft & Wet redirected the rest of the fire towards Aguajito Phex. “My trail is just beginning, the one who’s at the end of the line is you!”.

“ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ARA ORA!”

Josuke’s Stand rush completely broke apart his body, quickly reducing him to a pile of rubble.

Josuke glared down on the remaining A.Phex Brother, who stared daggers into his soul with hatred. With the last of his strength as he continued bleeding out, he went again for his pistol, and readied it for fire. Josuke was ready at any moment to eradicate the remaining assassin, but was stopped at the shocking sight of Ajusco turning the gun on himself, indescribable hatred in his eyes.

With the barrel pressed against one side of his temple and his Stand hand on the other, he shot himself through the head, joining his brother instantly.

Josuke was shocked, too shocked to consider how the bullet now entered in his left hand, and would come out the right.

Come out the right, and strike Josuke square in the chest.

Blood pooled under him as collapsed to join the pile of stone the A.Phex Brothers had been beaten down into, cursed to leave the world right as he had found himself.

For the second time that he could remember, Josuke woke up in a hospital. This time, instead of alone in a mental void, Yasuho and Kei were right by his side.

“Josuke! Thank God!” He barely had time to control his breathing before Yasuho squeezed her arms around him. 

“What happened?” Josuke asked, dazed by a sharp pain in his torso.

“You got shot!” Kei explained, as Josuke notice that Yasuho was crying. “The doctors say you would have bled out, but she and that Karera girl got you to the hospital.”

“K-Karera?” He coughed, the night’s events coming back to him. “Where is she?”

Yasuho scoffed. “She took off after we got here. But, a little bit ago she did swing by to give you something.”

Yasuho presented a gift wrapped in tissue paper. Josuke picked it up, as much as he could with his body’s soreness, and saw it was a somewhat well crafted t-shirt, in off-green fabric, with “ORA ORA” hastily printed on with black marker.

“The doctors say it’ll be a few weeks before you’re recovered, Josuke, but I won’t leave your side until then.” She brought him in for a kiss that felt like it lasted a blissful eternity. “I don’t care who it turns out you were, because you are the best guy I’ve ever met.”

“Oooh Isamu!” Hato sang outside the door of her beloved, it had been a few days since she heard from him, and she needed some cheering up after Josuke’s terrible incident. “Hellooooo.” Hato decided to let herself in, a privilege she had earned after three years as Isamu's muse.

When she found him face down at his desk, cold and rigid, she screamed so hard the atelier nearly collapsed.

“Damn it Isamu, I knew you all that time and you were never like that.” A cocaine overdose? Hato just couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Thus she sat, drinking her grief away at some dingy bar. Even in a plain black cocktail dress with only a necklace to accessorize, she was plainly overdressed.

Still not buzzed enough, Hato tried fighting back another wave of tears by fidgeting with her necklace. Eventually she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore, and the ornamental jewelry snapped right off its chain, falling to the floor in pieces.

“Aw man.” Just insult to injury.

Hato was getting ready to clean up her mess, when somebody else had taken to attend to the scene: A shorter man, rocking a great goatee and aviator sunglasses.

“Hey, I’ve met you before.” Hato pointed out. “You were -”

“A friend of Isamu Otoishi’s,” The man said glumly. “I assume you’ve heard about his passing?”

Hato frowned and nodded. “I just haven’t been able to sleep right since it happened. Unfair, damn it! Such great minds taken far before their prime.”

Hato waited for Isamu's friend to return the pieces of her necklace, but he kept them in his palm for several minutes longer than should’ve been necessary.

“Um, excuse me, aren’t you gonna give the necklace back?”

On cue, he held out his magnum opus in his palms, which were cupped like butterfly wings. The pieces of the abstract jewelry had been arranged into a big beautiful heart.

“I wish we could’ve seen each other in better circumstances, but, I have to confess that from when I first met you I’ve found you unbelievably enamouring. Forgive me if this goes too fast, but, I think we should go out together. To celebrate Isamu.”

Hato stared reply at the crudely shaped necklace. All her life she had been showered in the finest luxuries, and that lumpy little refurbished charmed couldn’t hold a candle to any of them. And yet, Hato looked at it and thought about how brave he must’ve been to make it, and how much care and effort he put in. It wasn’t just a fancy status symbol, the equivalent of taping stacks of bank notes to your wrist, it was a heart from his heart.

“I think that sounds lovely!” Hato smiled.

So did Tamaki Damo.

Chapter Text

Your room appears almost pastel purple because of the slivers of moonlight which jab in through your curtains, just enough to keep your succulent alive when the sun shows her face. Your worn out TV from eight years ago is playing Ranma ½ on a loop, while your eyes are assaulted by strands of blue light from your PC screen. It was time for a deep dive.

@chan was, for the average person, the dead end of the internet. Most people would associate the imageboard site with random spews of depravity, shitposting, and unsolicited nudity. Where you chose to dwell, however, was /x/: the paranormal board.

Familiar words mark the top of the board flanked by a grainy landscape photo covered in faux-static and the words “THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE” pasted on top.

“Welcome to /x/ - Paranormal. Be warned, those who enter the realm of the unknown, the supernatural and the just plain spooky. Below is a list of beginner’s resources.”

You quickly scroll past the pinned thread and its “ENTER ARE YOUR OWN RISK!!” gif, and onto the fresh stuff.

“/ley/ - Ley Lines General

Welcome to Ley Lines General!

>What are ley lines?

Ley lines are pathways which naturally occur along the Earth and are imbued with energy. They can often be found by drawing lines between ancient monuments and important natural landmarks, as the people of past societies recognized the lines and purposely moved and built upon them in order to harness their positive attributes.

FAQ...”

You find this an interesting topic, however the post seems a bit undercooked, and there’s no good replies yet, so you continue past.

“Valentine Conspiracy Masterpost

In 1890, beloved United States President Funny Valentine would abruptly cease a series of frequent public appearances. It was shortly after announced to the shock and terror of the nation that Valentine had been kidnapped and assassinated by a group of European terrorists angered at the US for dealing with anti-monarchist rebels against the Kingdom of Naples, which today is a part of Italy. The assassination officially has four culprits: First were Julius Caesar Zeppeli, a servant of the Napoleon King Dell’ovo III, one unknown individual who was found bisected and missing their head, and ‘Hot Pants’, an anonymous individual who was discovered to be a woman posing as a man. They were all found dead along the tracks of Valentine’s Presidential train route. Finally was Diego Brando, a horse jockey popularly tied to British nobility, who is remembered as Valentine’s actual killer. Zeppeli, Brando, and Hot Pants were all racers in the prolific “Steel Ball Run” horse race event which Valentine had been traveling to follow, and the fourth individual is assumed to have been as well. Brando actually finished and won the race, but never claimed his prize. It was later disclosed that he was killed by military officers in Philadelphia.

These events are credited with directly sparking the souring in relations between the United States and United Kingdom, today simply known as Britain, which decades later would snowball into the Second World War. However, the events that lead to Valentine’s death as still shrouded in mystery and misinformation, and it is the subject of many debates if Diego Brando or any of the other “Horsemen” were truly culpable in his disappearance.

Part I: The Steel ball Run Race

…”

The preview post cuts off there, and it seems very long. Well written, but you don’t much care for when /x/ gets involved in historical events. It’s more fun to just view the paranormal postulation of the user base here as fun breaks from reality, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth when people bring in Tarot readings and Bigfoot to real world happenings, so you move past it.

“Milagro Man”

Your eyes settle on another thread that looks rather long, but this one seems to be a very well thought out personal account. A real classic /x/ story, even if it’s full of shit. Attached to it is a not very well made drawing of a scrawny humanoid figure, clad in some sort of gogo girl dress patterned with inverted triangles, clung so tightly to its body that it almost looks like skin. Two large holes are burned through its hands, and a similar void takes up most of its head.

“If you’ve hung on this board for any extended period of time, you’re definitely familiar with Morioh. Everyone shit their pants over the Wall Eyes when the earthquake happened, but in the last few months, some weird shit has been happening to my family. I can’t really go into it, because I want to protect our privacy, but we’re one of the richest and most influential families in the city. I can tell you that copypasta about the Mutsukabe Prominade is definitely real. Here’s where I might lose some of you, but Stands also 100% exist.”

Oh brother. “Stands” are essentially a great filter on this board of how much bullshit you’re willing to buy. The idea that some people can connect to the Earth and summon spiritual guardians with super powers, which are also conveniently invisible to anybody who doesn’t have one. It’s always read to you like somebody who heard of Tulpas and decided they were just too boring, and needed more magic comic book bs attached. Easy skip, you decide. Time to move on to the next thread.

“/succugen/ - Sexual Entity Summoning General #25”

You sigh, and flick your scroll wheel back up to long form Stand role-play, committing to reading the entire thread.

“It seems like I’ve become a magnet for weird bullshit now, actually, because for the last couple weeks I have been unable to avoid some cryptic catastrophe wrecking my life up. This one in particular happened just the other day, and is more or less my final straw. I swear to God I feel like one more paperclip being moved out of place is gonna make me melt.”

“Oooooh, I am a le very cool ghost story man," you scoffed at the narrator’s cynical tone and obvious baiting for an ARG.

“Now, something you have to understand for this story is that even though I mentioned we’re very rich, you’d be hard pressed to guess it. My dad is very socially conscious, and while we enjoy a lot of luxuries, it’s very hard to get him to spend a cent on anything the slightest bit lavish or unnecessary, he sent me and my older siblings all to public schools, etc. I personally think he’s an idiot for this, and that he doesn’t realize how lucky he is to have that kind of cash in this world. But, the important part is that I’ve spent my entire life like an upper-middle class kid. Definitely not bad, but frustrating when you know that your family is really bringing in seven figures, and your dad has inflicted you with a case of middle child syndrome.

So, now the actual story

>be me

>Trying to go to a meet-and-greet with Rena Nanami

Go ahead, shit on me for being an idolhead. At least I was going in public

>Event will have a load of exclusive merch

>Ask dad for money, really wanna grab the expensive perfume collab. Apparently it makes you smell real good if you leave it in a drawer next to your underwear.

>Dad hits me with speech about contributing to society, and how I should get a job even though I’m already going to school.

>Keep in mind, I’m asking him for an amount of cash he could make by blinking.

>Hit him back with silent stare, he relents and finally gives me allowance.

Greentexting is ass so I’m not doing it the entire time, sorry.

The actual event goes great, I’ll be honest, I think this girl is hot as fuck, though not as much as my irl girl.”

“Sure buddy,” you chuckle at the idea of anyone on this site having an irl girl.

“But, the actual important stuff starts at the merch booth afterwards. I was trying to gather up the money for what I wanted, when some fat bald prick butts in front of me and cuts to the front of the counter.

>mfw he literally unironically stood there and told the photo print out clerk “I’ll have a #1 and a #2 and a #3 and a #4 and a #5 and a #6, and a wrist-strap and a t-shirt and a CD and a paper fan and a cell phone charm.”

Go up to the asshole and call him out for cutting in line, he mutters something about having already ordered, so I have to stand there while the clerk bags up literally everything they have in stock for him. He’s the biggest beta male I’ve ever met, I’m only surprised that instead of being 300 kilos and quaking the ground where he walks, he looks like he lives off of dumpster scraps and the medium t-shirt he bought and immediately threw on was hanging off him like a drape.

>Unrelated tangent, but it’s just bad etiquette to buy up everything like that; Pick like, two or three things max, leave some stuff for everybody.

I finally get to reclaim my rightful place at the front of the line, and try to decide what other than the perfume to get, when I notice something on my side of the counter.

>domyeyesdecieveme.jpg

The fucking line cutter left his wallet there.

Well, fuck that guy, right? Time to deal out a little karma.

>Do a little fake stretch to covertly shuffle up the wallet into my arms, and leave the booth with it in addition to my stuff.

>See baldy coming back to the booth, book it out of dodge and duck into the bathroom.

>nasty

>Pry open wallet, only maybe, 4600 yen inside, blew most of it at the booth I guess.

>Grimace at a photo of Rena he has inside of it, physically degraded by the sheer pornism the man exudes..

>Bingo. Credit card acquired.

>Dump the wallet on the floor behind me, take card to an ATM outside.

>Try to guess the pin, figure if this guy is the world’s biggest Rena-chan worshiper, it’s probably related to her.

>Height and birthday would both only be three digits, no use there.

>Figure maybe it’s based off her name.

>as in, Nana-Mi-Re-Na, 7-3-0-7

>It fucking works

>Guy must be one of those lucky IT bastards who make bank despite being huge nerds, cause his account is loaded. Something like 4,200,000 yen.

>Go for the maximum withdrawal, within minutes I’m holding a genuine pile of 500,000 yen total in cash.

I know, I know, I’m a bastard with affluenza. Trust me, I learned my lesson by the end of this, but, Morioh’s seriously a rotten city. The way I see it, there’s no such thing as citizen’s duty to begin with, even for something as simple as returning a lost wallet.

Now, a little while before this happened, I got into a discussion with my sister in-law about how watches are the ultimate modern display of wealth. Nobody really needs a watch anymore, so if you see somebody who’s wearing one, they’re doing it just to show it off. So, I decided when I got a job, the first thing I wanted to buy was a really nice watch. In this spirit, I decided to buy a 500k yen watch with my ill gotten gains.

Now, I know you wagecucks aren’t gonna give a damn about the details of high end watch shopping, so I’ll cut to the important part: I end up having the watch on my wrist, super happy about it, and have already paid for it. But, when I’m about to leave on my way, the old guy who was selling it to me stops me in my tracks. He seems like he’s about to topple over from a heart attack, and starts apologizing profusely. Apparently, my watch had gotten some kind of tiny scratch on it. He goes on some tirade about how he can’t let me walk out with that on his professional pride. Whatever dude, I don’t want a broken watch anyway. Unfortunately, that was the only stock they had of the watch I wanted, and the next shipment wouldn’t be in for another ten days. Get my 500k yen back.

>hereswherethingsgetcrazy.ogg

Count up the money and realize, the guy gave me 1,000 yen extra. I got 501,000 thousand in my refund.

With my watch dream crushed, decide what else to do with my money.

>pettychildhoodfantasy.exe

This one falls in the category of 'thing I’ve always wanted to do but dad wouldn’t have it.' I wanted to go see a movie, buy nine empty seats, and sit alone in the middle, so nobody can bother me and I have room for all my snacks.

>Plan successful

>Really liked the Pirates of the Caribbean movies in high school, and love Johnny Depp, so go see On Strangers Tides

>Looks awesome in 3D, dgaf about the story

>Also blow some money on lottery tickets for a raffle they have every showing in the theater lobby to win a Jack Sparrow figure

>After the screening is over, I go out and see the winning number posted. It’s one of my tickets, but I bought like seven so that’s not particularly surprising.

>Collect my prize, it’s pretty cool to be honest

>In the parking lot, some tweaker starts chasing from inside the theater

>Legit thought I was about to be shanked, but he just wants to buy my prize figure

>Dude is so desperate that he talks his offer up from 20k to 30k yen without me even negotiating

>Don’t want details, just take let the guy have it for the money

>Sister was downtown working, so now I decide to meet up and have a nice dinner with her, planning to use the Depp action figure sale story as a cover for why I have money if she asks, although she’s kind of stupid so I don’t anticipate her doing so

>When we’re done eating, the restaurant manager comes out and apologizes to me. He never even really says what for, he just waives our bill and gives me a flier for some night club his brother owns as compensation. Says they’ll let me in without a cover charge if I show it to them

>At this point I start to think something weird’s going on. Sis doesn’t know about the weird watch guy, so just encourages me that today’s my lucky day with money

>Like the sound of that, so decide it’s party time all night tonight

>Tell sister to go home, cause I’ve seen her drunk dancing and don’t really wanna deal with it

Now again, I know a lot of you probably have never even seen the inside of a club before, so I’m not gonna bother writing a five paragraph essay about the experience. Just know I got in, bought a shit ton of booze and bar food, and hung out with a gaggle of probable-hookers with fake boobs all night. After what had to be six hours of partying, I get called to meet with the club owner on the second floor so I can pay off my tab. As it happened, I had racked up almost exactly 540,000 yen in expenses.

>In my defense, nobody ever told me “gold champagne” had actual gold in it. Even I think that’s wasteful

Don’t really have a problem paying it off since, even though that’s all my cash, I could just pilfer more from baldy’s bank account. But, the club owner seems really pissed for something. He keeps looking through all the cash I gave him, and seems to be reading the serial numbers. I ask him what the problem is, and say that if I’m short, to stop dicking around just let me get more out. However, he instead starts asking me where I got it.

I ask to make sure I heard him right, and he literally means like, where did I get the exact specific bills I’m paying him with. Tell him why does he care, cash is cash, if he thinks it’s fake give it back and I’ll go pull a fresh sum out of the ATM with him watching, etc. etc. He doesn’t listen, and starts blabbering about how he’s not a dumbass, and he’s not gonna take it.

>"I’m not touching the Milagro Man’s money"

He keeps drilling me on if I met the “Milagro Man”, saying he ain’t no chump who takes money from the “Milagro Man.” I ask him what the actual fuck he’s talking about, and he sputters about how he heard about it in Germany. Try telling him I don’t give a shit if he got scammed by some Kraut, but he literally shoves the money back at me, gives some corny line about “adding interest.”

He gets the bouncers up there to call up the elevator, and orders them to, in essence, take me inside and beat the shit out of me while it goes down so I never come back. Biggest guy starts manhandling me from behind. Now, if you remember mentioning Stands at the beginning of this briefly, that’s important now because I have one, and none of these guys apparently did. I know Stand RPers plague this board 24/7, so I won’t even tell you what my power is, but I used it to force my way out of the bouncer’s arms and pin them all to the elevator, and I book it out of the fire escape.

Run for like, 5 blocks straight, finally catch my breath inside a late night corner store. They really did give me all the money back, there even seems to be a couple extra bills now.

Try to put it all back inside my backpack, and this is when I become consciously aware that it felt heavier while I was running. That big bouncer dude put another, small bag inside of it. Unzip it.

>Literally a dozen stacks of 10000 yen bills

Go outside to catch my breath. I know the shopkeep probably thinks I boosted something since I walked in, fiddled with a bag, and left without buying anything, but see if I give a shit. I figure I’ll just give him a 1000 note if I’m bothered, but never am.

Well shit, I probably could actually give Baldy his wallet back now and repay him for the night out, if I wanted. There’s gotta be as much in this bag as was in his bank. And I mean, those crazy bouncy dudes gave me this right? I can’t really figure why it is, maybe they were just all on drugs and scared of whatever the hell the Milagro Man is. Even if it was an accident, it’s not stealing when they gave it to me right?

Pop a coin I have in my pocket into a vending machine outside, around a corner next to a truck that’s painted up for that shitty band Stadium. Just seeing the smug little musicshits makes me feel a lot more ignited. Those guys are the same age as me, and they get to make money just because some old record producer thought they had talent. Why is that fair? If their talent is music, my talent is stealing money through contrivance, I guess.

Get my soda. Clanging comes from change return slot.

>10 coins fell out

Put one of them in, get another soda can

>10 more coins

I’m not an idiot. I’m actually freaked out now.

>Go on my phone and pull up betting website, find some live boat race in Europe. They even have a radio live stream of the commentators.

>Enter in baldy’s card info and place a 50k yen bet on a boat in third place, quite a distance between the leading two.

>mfw not seven minutes later, the leading two boats collide and capsize, and my bet wins paying me out a 3,100,000 yen prize.

>Cash bag I got at the club is extremely heavy now. Have no idea what to do with money, couldn’t take it all to a bank without looking suspicious as hell

>Hike to train station and get a coin locker to shove the bag in, with most of the cash inside of it

>Bag should fit fine inside locker, but putting it in is tighter than a nun’s ass

>Literally feels like money pile is growing inside the bag

>The zipper starts to burst open, and a couple bills fall out and get blown away. Literally do not care, just keep focusing on shoving the bag in.

Now, Morioh is a rotten city to its core, the people here are all crooks. So, you can imagine my surprise when everybody in the station came up to me to return the money. Two cops, sure I understand, they gotta act upright even though they’re all dicks, but regular passers-by swarm me, giving me back more bills than I think I even dropped, and being super nice and considerate. I do my best to ignore them and slam the locker shut with my full body weight. Of course, not a minute goes by before the coin slot vomits back out quarters and the door flies open.

At this point, I actually look at the bills, trying to see what’s up with them, I guess. They looked and felt perfectly like normal money, although I obviously didn’t have one of those counterfeit markers or anything. But, finally I realized the weird thing about them. Remember how the club owner was looking at the serial numbers? That’s cause they all matched. Not identical, they each had their own number, but all of them ended in “13R.” Every single one, from any pile. Like, SK369613R, C042313R, etc.

>Limp out of the train station, now dragging a bag overflowing with money, while my backpack is stuffed with money, and so is every pocket on me

>Wave over to a cab driver, trying to ask him to just take me home. I’ll deal with whatever is going on later, I just want sleep

>Guy tries to say he’s going home for the night, but I offer him 50000 yen cash and he caves

>Of course, when we’re almost to my house, we run into road work which requires a detour to ground

>Guy finally tells me just to get out, because his wife’s birthday was tomorrow and he didn’t want to be overly tired for it

>He tries to refund me

>Tell him to keep it, he’s already driven me far

>The guy is insanely insistent that it’s not right for him to keep my money

God damn, I wish people were always this fucking honest. Anyway

>Try to just shove the roll of money in his pocket while he yells to watch out for his lighter

>He forces money stack back to me

>Me and the cabbie both watch as the money actually grows

I mean, I don’t know how else to describe it. It was like individual fibers of the cloth-paper were growing like plants, and eventually forming into another bill, repeating this until it turned into a giant blanket of cash.

>Yell at him to give me his lighter, but I just rip it out of his pocket

>Try to light the money pile on fire, which the cabbie yells about it as it keeps growing and keeps spreading the flames

>It keeps multiplying, turning from a sheet into a pile of piles

>Last thing I remember, then I passed out, probably from being wrapped in a pile of smoking paper mixed with the sheer exhaustion

While I was out, I had a dream. I was walking through an abandoned building, really big but entirely burnt down. Seemed like a house, but a super fancy one. Eventually standing in the middle of what I guess would have been the living room, this thing was standing there.

Pic related is my drawing of it. It’s simplistic, but pretty accurate. There wasn’t much to it, it looked like an anorexic person in some super thin rag dress, with lightbulb ears and holes burned through the hands and head.

I walked up to the thing, and looked through the hole in its face.

Staring back at me, was my face. I looked like a corpse, but it was me, eyes glazed over and shoved inside this horrible effigy.

I got woken up by my dad yelling at me. I was laying face down on the couch at home, not that I remember how I got there. He yelled at me to stop drooling, and to leave so he can watch Miki Ryosuke. It’s morning, and I’m almost convinced most or all of last night was a dream, before I walk into my room (which is technically the garage, long story) and find money literally stacked wall to wall.

Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that. I get it by now, I’ve learned my karmic lesson and I’m sick of it. Fortunately, I still have my original wallet, and I still have bozo baldy’s bank card, which started this trouble. I don’t want to doxx the guy even after all this happened, if only so this thread won’t get nuked by mods, but I called up my girl, who has a talent for tracking things down, and that afternoon I went to the fucker’s apartment complex.

After a bit of waiting, I finally saw him coming down the hall holding a little bag of groceries. I ask him if he’s himself - not that I couldn’t recognize him - and when he answers yes I choke slam him against the wall.

Ask him if he recognizes me, and he gives some generic “Oh, is it you?”

>"I thank you, from the bottom of my heart"

youfuckingwhat.pdf

Guy asks me if I managed to destroy the bills, if I tried using fire on them. I guess at this point I’m more confused than pissed, so I keep letting him talk instead of punching his face in.

As he explains it, the “Milagro Man” wasn’t his doing to begin with, but rather it’s a Curse. He went to see some other slutty singer in Germany two years ago and didn’t have money for a cab back to his hotel because he blew it all on concert merch, so on impulse he swiped money from a homeless guy’s donation tin, a single bill with a serial number that ended in 13, and the same thing that happened to me happened to him.

As he came to discover, the legend says that Milagro Man was once a demon who a wealthy arms dealer in Spain became possessed by. Or maybe it was the son or grandson of the arms dealer, nobody knows for sure. Bottom line is, eventually they ended up being sued and after years were ordered to pay out tens of millions in fines. The dealer went mad, and burned down his mansion with his entire family inside. But somehow, the demon that possessed him stayed on Earth, and imprinted himself on a single scorched bill that was found next to the dealer’s body, which an EMT took.

Since that day, it’s been spread around. Any time you try to buy something with the money, it will be returned to you and the money will increase, whether or not you give the item back. Even if you leave it in a bank, it will multiply without anyone questioning it. The guy said politicians and cops all know about it, so do most criminals, and nobody wants anything to do with it, so he had to bait a guy like me into stealing from him to get rid of it.

Of course, I punched him.

He begged me to understand he was just hoping I could destroy it before I got overwhelmed. His apartment used to be entirely filled with money, and he was too scared to buy so much as an apple thinking it would duplicate and crush him. The guy opens his door to demonstrate the visual, it is pretty spacey, and starts literally crying over some bottles of good wine and the Rena-chan poster, saying it’s the first luxuries he’s bought in months.

I grab one of the bottles and uncork it, taking a big swig. The guy starts bowing to me, continuing to sob and express gratitude, and wishing me luck with dealing with the Milagro Man.

I leave the bottle of wine on his floor, and he picks it back up. I turn around and walk out, but rear my head back at him.

‘So, you don’t really know about Stands, huh?’ I asked. He looked puzzled.

‘Nut King Call!’ My Stand appeared behind me, though he was unable to see it. ‘I just used it to unscrew that label from the bottle, and slipped a little bill inside, then screwed it back up.’ His eyes widened. ‘I never said I was giving you the wine back, so I guess you just stole from me.’

The wine label bubbles, and money starts spitting out at him. I slam the door behind me, telling him to play Old Maid with someone else, and that if I ever saw him again, I’d beat the shit out of him. I still hear him begging me to take it for just another day as I leave him behind for good. Thankfully, he never learned my name, so I don’t think he’ll be coming back for me.

>Walk home, see that truck advertising Stadium again

>Their music is all shitty ripoffs, yet everyone loves them, because of their “talent”

>And I guess my talent was all a bunch of baloney

I gotta have something, though, right? Doesn’t everybody have something they’re good at?”

You smile at the conclusion of the fantastical tale, and type up a poetic reply to encapsulate the impact it had on you.

“Fake and gay.”

Chapter Text

6 October 2011

Tsurugi lamented the state of Yasuho’s apartment. The entire thing was about as big as the Higashikata Family’s living room alone; The limited living space was caved down further by the scattering of empty cans and unorganized DVD cases that tended to litter it.

Yasuho sat on the center couch focused entirely on her laptop. Paisley Park’s image bloomed above her as if her keen concentration was the result of her soul being lifted to another world, away from the corny scent of cheap beer.

The screen was divided in half, one half was a browser with around nine open tabs - all various info on a name Tsurugi had never seen before today - and the other was a video call back to Tsurugi’s home, camera focused on split pupils.

“This is the right guy, I’m fairly certain.”

“‘Josefumi Kujo’; That seems like I might’ve heard it somewhere before, but it’s nobody instantly recognizable.” The other side’s commentary was provided by the housekeeper, as Josuke himself seemed too troubled to speak.

Yasuho pursued the family registry records Paisley had summoned her, “He lived with his mom Kiyomi, and his dad was a bastard named Sadafumi.” 

“It’s not a good habit to say bad words around kids, y’know.” Tsurugi - crawling around the floor like a dog - tugged on Yasuho’s sock out of annoyance of being ignored.

“Bastard in the literal sense, Origami Girl.” Kei took the time to compensate for Yasuho’s hyperfixation on the screen. “That means his dad never identified himself.”

“But, he’s still alive, right?” Josuke finally spoke himself, melancholically adjusting his hat. “Sadafumi, I mean, and the mother too. Shouldn’t there be some kind of missing person report for me?”

Yasuho ruffled her hair and whimpered, biting her nails as she tried to figure out how she was going to break his heart. His little broken baby bird puppy dog shnookums-bookums heart.

How did she explain what the trail of fastly declining school records and hastened condo leases told her?

That Josefumi Kujo himself was alive and well.

She was graced with a spontaneous delay: The front doorbell to the Higashikata Manor ringing out like a trumpet from Heaven. A scowl grew on Kei, who stood up to attend to the ringer, interrupting the whole flow of the call.

Yasuho took to trying to deliver an exit to the call for the time being. “Uh, I found some documents with a photo of him. I can send them through the fax machine in Norisuke’s office, if you can make it up there.” 

Right, if he was up there. Where had Norisuke been, anyways?

“Hey Josuke,” a familiar plumbing-like groan came from behind Josuke, startling him off the call. “Have you seen my dad?”

Josuke almost vomited a little upon having a moment of synchronicity with Joshu. “Hold on a second,” Josuke tried keeping him shushed long enough to say bye bye to his beloved.

“Where’d Jobin go anyways? Can’t he ever be punctual?”

“Punctual with what?” Josuke annoyingly glared back at him.

“Get with the times you freeloader, and get your ass off our couch and go find dad!”

“You, you have your own special way - of turning the world so it's facing - the way that I'm going, don't ever - don't ever leave me”

Joshu’s expression of visible mope was overtaken by soft brown fluff.

“We’re on the verge of an important historical event, JoJo!” Daiya explained as she invited herself to a spot next to Josuke on the couch. “For the first time in 24 years, Hato is bringing a boy home to meet the family!”

“A boy?” Josuke was bemused by Daiya speaking of her sister as if she was still a high schooler.

“Mhm! She’s always had people swarming after her, y’know, but she’s never had a real love life on public record. But anyhow, I need you to help me out again. It’s been a while - since you got out of the hospital - so you can do me one little favor, right? I just want to hear it from you what sort of guy he is. Like a sexy bad boy or a handsome prince type.”

Hato’s boyfriend was… not either of those.

Greeted by Ms.Nijimura, Hato had clack-clacked into the house wearing her Sunday best accompanied by a gourd-shaped man who practically had to stand on his toes to be level with her chest.

The lack of transition between his chin and neck was just barely hidden by the overbearing gleam of his sunglasses and the tiny metallic saxophone pinned to his jacket breast.

“Hey wait a minute,” Josuke raised his finger at the pair in surprise. Hato’s date looked at him with curiosity. “Aren’t you-”

Josuke’s words were halted by the grand arrival of Norisuke into the room, his very soul transcending reality as he laid eyes on the visitor; Joshu flanked weaselly behind him.

“All right, everyone’s here! Daddy, it’s time to introduce him!”

Norisuke’s lip quivered a bit; Daiya shuttered with anticipation.

“Oh man, this is too good,” Joshu gleefully said while rubbing his hands together.

“Please excuse…” Hato’s date - An odd fellow named something like Tomoki she and Josuke had been introduced to at a bar once - spoke at a snail’s pace, resembling a worn out factory machine trying to burst into production. “my sudden visit,” he bowed downwards for the family. “My name is Tamaki Damo, and I live… in Sendai.”

“Speak up,” Joshu hissed into his palm. “Nobody can hear you with all that mumbling.”

“But uh, I work managing a dry cleaners right here in Morioh; It’s called Damokan Cleaner, because you can read my name like that.” He had continued talking while Hato tried to murder Joshu with her eyes, causing him to duck behind his father’s shoulders.

‘And also, uh, I’m 23 years old,” said the man who visibly appeared to be pushing 40.

Not even Joshu had anything to say about that one.

“Sorry about the immature one behind my dad, Tamaki, that’s Joshu; I think he’s 5 now? The girl in the fluffy hood is Daiya, and you’ve met Josuke - he’s our honorary brother.”

Kei decided she had had enough of this shitshow and slinked out of the room while Hato went on complaining about the absence of Jobin and his branch family, sparing herself from introduction.

She strode into the kitchen, looking around for anything to distract herself with.

“Oh good,” she thought. “Fingerprints.”

One of those kids had planted their grubby fingers on the fridge handle, leaving what was nearly a perfectly formed hand imprinted on it.

Actually, there was a perfectly formed hand imprinted on it: Just south of the fingerprints was a slick slime that puddled into a slightly deformed hand mark, 19.3 centimeters in size. As Kei analyzed the bizarre stain, she realized more of them trailed along the other appliances, each one rotated at a different angle but suspiciously consistent in size.

“Please, uh… This is a box of chocolate filled yokan from a candy store by my shop.” Damo bowed at a 90 degree angle as his stubby arms stretched out to present his offering, reducing his height to no more than that of a large capybara.

Norisuke reluctantly took the box, wincing upon contact with the strange, slimy film that rested over the top the mass-produced cardboard texture.

“Oh yummy!” Hato cheered on her boyfriend’s endeavors. “Those look so sweet! Though not as sweet as you!”

“So, erm,” Norisuke ran his fingernails over his sandpaper stubble, “how long have you two been seeing each other?”

“Well not that long to be honest,” Hato’s cursor hair swung around as she drug Damo into the living room proper, the others slowly following behind her. “We’ve only gotten to have sex twice so far.”

Norisuke almost died of shock; Joshu, of laughter.

Josuke’s subdued shuffle in the back of the line was weighed down by Daiya’s arm tugging. “Hey, come on dude. When are you gonna tell me what sort of guy he is?! He isn’t fat, is he? He sounds kind of fat, but maybe that’s mean to say.”

Josuke traced his eyes around Tamaki Damo’s circumference again.

“Well, if your dad and brother aren’t saying anything about it, I don’t think I have a position either.”

Back in the kitchen, Kei just couldn’t seem to get those weird fingerprints to wipe off; They refuse to waver or even fade, as if branded in by the hands of fate.

Hato had herded everybody into the living room, perhaps hoping to deformalize the so-far precarious family greeting.

Damo was drawn like a moth to light towards a narrow, ornate chair that one could guess to have cost somewhere in the thousands of dollars just on its own. He slid backwards into it, planting his lowly palms on the master-class arms to support him as he went down, which in the process bended each out to make room for Damo’s extensive self.

Joshu was a glass of water away from wetting his pants with laughter.

“Well, that chair looks a bit stiff… buddy,” Norisuke flushed trying to speak affectionately to his apparent new son in-law. “Why don’t you come hop on the big sofa instead?”

Damo gazed romantically at each plane of the living room’s bay window, ignoring Norisuke outright. “You have a tenacity for creating beautiful things, Mr.Higashikata, whether it’s the beautiful girl you fathered, or the beautiful view of the property you built this beautiful house on.”

Josuke decided that if Hato was still dating him by Christmas, he’d gift him a thesaurus.

“Oh Tamaki, you have such a way with words!” Hato leaned down to her boo’s head level and began fawning over him with stolen kisses, which quickly evolved into a full blown make out session.

“Hey, hey! Cut that out! That’s inappropriate behavior for the family room!”

“Oh calm down, daddy, you’re being a prude; We’ve already seen each other naked seven ti-”

“Shut up! I don’t need to hear that!” Norisuke's head wagged around like it was a wet dog while twisting his fingers in his ears.

A second passed.

“Wait a minute, what the hell do you mean seven ?! Before you said you only did that twice!”

“Well we had sex twice but bathed together five times.”

“J-Joshu,” Norisuke wheezed with the last of his mental fortitude. “Go find… some champagne.”

“What? Why do I gotta? Can’t that lazy housekeeper get it?”

“Just go.”

In tandem with Joshu’s annoyed prancing out of the room, Josuke was alerted to a humming coming from Kei’s forlorn laptop; Yasuho must’ve been calling back!

“Um, if it’s alright with everybody, I also have to be excused for a minute,” Josuke pardoned while clutching his hat to his head.

Hato pouted at the dwindling number of the party; She nearly started another conversation, when her sweet baboo preempted her.

“Actually, um… Since everybody’s up right now, I was wondering… if I could please use your restroom.”

“Oh of course, Tamaki! Sis, show him where it is!” Hato asked, gleeful to engage any conversation between Tamaki and somebody else. “She knows the layout of the house better than anyone.”

Joshu realized too late he didn’t actually know where to find champagne. 

“Alright Yasuho, everybody is distracted right now, so get what you found sent to the fax in the office.”

Joshu instinctively ducked a little, but Josuke had walked into the mudroom, leaving him none the wiser to what Joshu overheard.

“Hehe, that little sap got excited and started talking a little bit too loud!” Joshu rubbed his hands together deviously. “Now’s my big chance to figure out what that guy is up to! Big bro will be so proud of me, and once we show dad we have to get rid of Josuke, I can have my room back!”

Before Josuke could have finished his private conversation, Joshu merrily skipped up the stairs to his dad’s room.

He hadn’t been up there in the labyrinth of paperwork much before - it made him feel queasy to look at all the filing that went into being a 1%er - and it took him a second to locate the fax machine amongst 35 years worth of “World’s best boss” mugs. It was also at this moment Joshu realized he had never once sent or received a fax before.

For a second he thought he heard dripping behind him, but it must’ve just been a hallucination from the excitement.

As it turned out, Tamaki only wanted in the bathroom to wash his hands, leaving Daiya centered in the doorway as he did so.

“So do you like Death Cab for Cutie?”

Hato’s boyfriend gave a confused grunt as he started shaking his hands dry - the sink still running on full blast.

“They’re a band,” Daiya clarified. “From America. I just recently got their album Transatlanticism , and I’m pretty into it.” 

“I see.” Damo scratched his beard in contemplation, seeming to stare straight past Daiya. “I’m afraid I only listen to the classics… like…” he pushed his glasses firmly against his face. “Tears for Fears.”

“Well tell you what, Dottie was it? How about you go fetch that album you mentioned and bring it out to the living room for everyone?”

“Oh, alright, yeah!” Daiya let the terrible interpretation of her name slide for the sake of having somebody who actually wanted to hear her albums.

“Now for some security measures,” Joshu cackled as he scooped up the back of his father’s desk chair and swung it in front of the door leading in. 

“Nut King Call!”

Joshu’s Stand appeared floating above him, wriggling its spindly fingers in excitement. Joshu had scarcely used it since his failed attempt at rallying public support.

“Alright little buddy, it’s time for our big comeback! Use your bolts to barricade the door with that chair!”

Daiya returned to the hallway from her room after barely two minutes, spending a few extra seconds touching up her lipstick after she felt around for and tracked down Transatlanticism.

In those two minutes Tamaki Damo had returned to the living room, - as she expected - but something else was different from how she had just left it; She was certain, trying to put her finger on it as her train of thought got muddled by the distracting sound of the sink Damo had left running.

“The security cabinet!” she realized. That is, the small closet-ish space - generously described as a room - where 3121 Hill’s security camera system had its feed displayed live on a wall of a dozen or so monitors. The doors to the cabinet were barely ajar, as if somebody had to close them in a hurry and hadn’t had the time to make sure they shut properly. Confused and concerned, Daiya took a hesitant hold of the doors, peeling them open to examine the inside, although she doubted she’d be able to detect any difference to them on her own.

But she was. Even with the barest amount of vision she had, she could see something was very wrong with the cameras.

They weren’t on. Every single screen in front of her blank, blackly reflecting her own glassy eyes back at her.

She looked at her blurry self, dumbstruck.

The blurs weren’t normal.

Daiya quickly realized that something else was now cascading over the glass screens, a little parade of black lines in deliberate shape.

A deliberate shape she could make out with perfect clarity. They were fingerprints, rapidly followed by the “hands” that made them, the shape of flat ghostly gloves stretched over every surface in eye shot. They were an anomalous sight for any person but for Daiya their presence was downright threatening.

“Oh my God,” she hiccuped as her mind went into fight-or-flight. She tried running back from them but she was stopped only as far out as the cabinet doors would swing open. Somehow without her noticing, her wrists had slid under the thin metal handles and gotten wedged between them and the sheet metal doors.

She kept yanking and tugging with all her might until she finally freed them. Her hands’ escape from their confines was a moot victory however, as the inertia made her tumble backwards into the bathroom. She tried to keep her balance but it seemed like her whole body had turned to jelly; She had no control over her movement. She desperately wanted to run out of the bathroom and into the arms of her sister who could tell it was all okay, but her attempt at putting weight on her legs caused them to slide off of her ankles, making her fall face first onto the countertop.

She winced in anticipation of the hard landing, but the marble corner’s impact instead made her jaw dent inwards like a crushed soda can, sealing her newly malleable bottom teeth into the roof of her mouth, silencing cries for help and screams of anguish. The hair she had kept growing out was flung in front of her face where it was caught into the stream of the sink tap, running downwards into it until it served to clog the drain and keep Daiya pinned in place as her legs lost all structure and her stomach started to stretch down to the floor.

Drip, drip, drip

The whirring fax machine sounded like the jovial tones of a carousel to Joshu, who excitedly ripped the printed document out as soon as it was ready.

His excited face dropped to bewilderment, and then worry.

Drip, drip, drip

Now that the fax was quiet, Joshu could hear that the dripping he thought he imagined never stopped. He swung his head around and then lurched on top of the desk in sheer fright, the fax being shoved onto the floor with everything else.

The entryway had become covered in giant, gnarly arms that spawned from no torso. In the corner of the ceiling lay their progenitor: A mass of more solid, rust colored hands reaching out from a giant disembodied hood. The thing was shaped like a jester’s cap, and was colored orange on one half and green on the other. The middle of the phantasm cloth was itself cut out in the shape of the head, revealing two peering eyes that glowed red from the dark void inside.

“Nut King Call!” Joshu screamed. “Obliterate it! Now!”

Eagerly wanting to show off, Nut King Call locked down its target with a pointed finger snap, then leapt into the air to start delivering punches towards the grisly Stand.

Norisuke was confused to see Hato’s boyfriend reenter the living room without his baby girl in tow, which turned to being concerned when he was suddenly knocked over by an invisible force.

“Tamaki!” Hato instantly stood up and knelt down to help him regain his bearings. “Are you okay?”

“Quite fine," he replied, the most subtle hint of anger contaminating his monotone. 

“Sorry about that, bud, sometimes the floorboards in here can come a little loose; But that’s the price of genuine wood construction,” Norisuke mused.

Nut King Call reared its right arm back in preparation for a megaton finisher, but was halted by the spread of tiny swirling fingerprints up said limb, which were mirrored on Joshu.

Joshu examined the spots, trying to rub them off with his other hand.

This made his skin smudge.

“What the hell!?” For perhaps the first time ever, Joshu sincerely panicked as his arm started melting off his body.

“Shit! Take it off! Take it off!”

Nut King Call summoned a trio of tiny screws along its own shoulder joint, popping off its arm - causing Joshu’s to do the same - as it fell to the ground and dissolved into a puddle of goop.

“This is bad, real real bad. We gotta get out of here!”

Not having the time to spare in undoing his barricade, Nut King Call unscrewed the door off its hinges and tossed aside the entire structure, giving Joshu the clear to marathon his way back down the stairs, Josuke’s fax still clutched in his remaining hand.

He had cleared the doorway out of the office, but picked up some more fingerprints on his left shin in doing so. He didn’t make it to the bottom of the steps before the pressure of his pounding footsteps decimated his leg, leaving him stranded on the floor.

His resolve was kept going as he witnessed an emerald streak coming back into the house.

“Josuke!” He screamed, unscrewing his other liquified limb as he now crawled towards him.

“You son of a bitch! You think this is funny?!” He reached out, waving the fax around as the rest of his body was overtaken by what were now full sized hands. “Y-you can fix this, right?” he pleaded as his whole physical being melted like a popsicle on a scorching summer day, face turning unrecognizable as his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears mixed together into a useless mass.

Josuke was concerned by two things. Principally was the sight of Joshu being churned like butter in front of his very eyes, but then there was the matter of the fax - presumably the one Yasuho was just trying to send him - clutched in what a few seconds ago was Joshu’s hand.

It was an enlarged copy of Josefumi Kujo’s passport, but the ID photo didn’t look a thing like him. It didn’t look a thing like the picture Karera had shown him before either. The flattened pomp and friendly smile were nowhere to be found.

The photo was of an entirely different man. It was of Tamaki Damo, the date Hato had brought who was sitting in the living room, not six meters away.

Drip, drip, drip

Chapter Text

Reality is a composite; Countless goals and motives stitched together.

“Joshu? What the hell is going on?” Josuke screamed at the puddle of his supposed honorary brother in front of him, the sight being enough to shock him into being concerned even for Joshu.

“That bastard, he…” Joshu’s speech was becoming slurred as his lower jaw started to slide off of its hinge. “He used Hato to get in here! It was all a set up!”

“Where’d everybody go off to?” Hato had taken to addressing the lessening occupancy of the room after dusting off her man’s jacket following his inexplicable tumble to the floor.

“Hato, my dear,” Damo grabbed her hand and started to speak in a lament. “I adore your family so, and am quite honored to be invited into it; But I must confess, I think the situation here may be a ‘siblings’ quarrel..’”

“They’re fighting?” Hato asked him to clarify, her face half-annoyed and half-concerned.

“I don’t wish to pry into personal matters so soon, but it appears so. All four of them, including the housekeeper.”

“Housekeeper?” Norisuke’s mental commentary on the situation had been taken aback. “It’s quite odd of Ms. Nijimura to show any emotion, let alone get into an argument…”

“I think maybe, you should go talk to them, sweetheart. You're the kind of sugary person who can calm anybody down.” Damo released his grasp on Hato’s hand in favor of hopping behind Norisuke. “And that way I can get some alone time with dear old dad.” He said, firmly patting Norisuke on the shoulder.

Drip, drip, drip

“Hey, do you hear something?” Norisuke raised incredulously in his seat as his daughter strutted out of the room in concern. “It sounds like somebody left a faucet on.”

He wanted to get up to examine the noise, but had an odd, subtle difficulty in getting his body to rise out of the chair.

“Hm, oh no, I don’t think I heard anything.” Damo made fierce eye contact with him as he returned to the front side of Norisuke’s seat. “Although that might be because of the marbles, of course.”

“M-marbles?” Tamaki Damo refused to break his gaze at the confused father, and smirked.

“Yes, yes, you see, I always like to keep two items on my person during special occasions.” Damo reached inside one of the large pockets on his thick jacket and produced what was indeed, a small jar of marbles. He untwisted the lid and started to bounce a lime green tiger’s eye in his hand, before he whipped it straight at Norisuke’s neck.

As opposed to bouncing off and giving him a quick sting, the marble intended his skin, like it was being pressed against a sponge. The forces of gravity tried to drag the ball down to the floor, but it got stuck in the stringy folds of Norisuke’s neck, being dragged to the center of his putty-like throat as if the ghostly hands that appeared around his body were reaching out for it.

Norisuke started letting out muffled gasps and flailing around in his seat, unable to put his body’s weight solidly on any limb. Damo leaned down and gave him a harsh “shh.”

“Now that you’re in no spot to interrupt, now ‘ought to be a good time to show the second item I’ve been keeping on me.” Damo’s pudgy hands strained the corners of another jacket pocket - this one absolutely stuffed full - until he managed to produce a small, collapsible shovel, perhaps not dissimilar to what one could find in a playground sandbox.

“It is a spade, believe it or not.” Damo did a little waltz with the unfolded tool, before he sat it down on his seat and went back to dancing his fingers through the marbles.

“Now, at this point you’re probably wondering what the deal with these little trinkets are. Well you see, it all goes back to a fellow I once knew named Satoshi. As a boy, his parents’ creed was the principle of ‘never put all your eggs in one basket’, so when Satoshi turned out to be easily swayed to obsession, they instilled in him that he should become obsessed with at least two things, not just one. So from the time he was a kid, for all his life, Satoshi kept two hobbies: First, he liked to dig up his yard, and create little trenches. He would watch insects crawl in them and pretend they were at war. And the second, as I’m sure a man such as yourself can guess, was marbles!”

On the last word, Damo had rolled a glass ball the size of a jawbreaker between his thumb and middle finger, before letting it drop on Norisuke’s right foot, splatting it with the impact as it became lost in the goo-ified leather of his shoes.

“So, everyday Satoshi took an hour or so to go out in his garden and tend to his little trenches, feeling the ground split under the weight of his trowels, and letting the soil crumble between his hands.” Damo mimicked that last action with his jar of marbles, as he readied a little cherry-colored snow pea-sized shooter for action. “And once that was done, he’d go inside and play with his dear marbles, making them zip across the linoleum floors, or watching them march across the fuzzy carpet.” Damo inched through each and every description as he dropped his shooter on top of Norisuke’s knee and watched it slowly tumble down his leg like a barrel going over a waterfall, rippling apart his skin. Norisuke gasped - the only sound he could make around the marble in his voice box - as his nerves were excruciatingly twisted around the shooter, refusing to be torn from his skin.

“Well, Satoshi kept his routine all the way up until he got hitched! But Satoshi’s poor old wife, she started getting on his case about it. He spent too much time playing, not enough time with her. So she gave him an ultimatum, to give up just one of his activities. Not an unreasonable request, but Satoshi still had his parents’ advice in his mind at all times. So he devised a plan! He was going to tell his wife he’d give up the marbles, and make a big deal out of passing out some of his marbles to the neighborhood kids, to carry on the legacy. However, in truth, he actually kept most of his marbles. What he had done was take apart the little shovels he used in his digging hobby, and he poured all of the marbles inside of their handles! Then he’d screw them back together, but every time he moved them he could still hear them shaking inside!” 

Damo mimicked the shaking with his personal jar. “That way, he could keep the digging and the marbles!” Damo gritted his teeth on the last word as he dropped a giant, navy blue marble - easily the largest in the jar - on top of Norisuke’s other knee. The sheer weight of it pushed it straight through his gelatinous limb, until it popped out the other side. This assault was finally enough to add flowing blood to the soupy concoction that was forming out of Norisuke, as he wiggled like jelly in pain. “In fact, he liked listening to roll around the inside of his little shovels even more than he did watching them on the floor!” Damo chucked around half a dozen balls into various points on Norisuke’s hands, squeezing them down until they shaped themselves around the chair.

“So one day he tells me about all this, and I say ‘So, you still have a lot of your marbles?’” Norisuke winced as he prepared for another insertion, but instead Damo neglected the marble jar in favor of brandishing the spade he had brought with it. “And he tells me, ‘Yep! I still have them in spades!” Damo swung the spade straight at Norisuke’s leg, shoving it into his goopy flesh and dragging it upwards, watching as liquified bone marrow dripped off of the edge.

A royal purple glow pierced through the transparent hands of Damo’s ability, a firm fist that swung at Damo’s implement. Instead of knocking it away, however, King Nothing’s hand slid straight around the shovel like a stick of hot butter brought to a knife. In retaliation, Damo laughed and brought the full weight of his arms on the shovel as he dug it all the way through Norisuke’s now malformed and useless leg.

“Don’t try to fight back, you bastard. I’m in control here, got it? Let me tell you another story - and this one is true -there once was somebody else who got a big head like you just did and decided they could beat me, bring me down, or even kill me. A doctor, real smart and charming guy. You know what happened to him?”

Damo took a minute to appreciate the beautiful way the light cascaded across Norisuke’s pleading eyes.

“I poured him in my laundry detergent, and used him to wash my favourite pants.” Norisuke started to cry, his soul being ripped apart like his legs were from the horror of looking at the psychopath who had invaded his home. The one who was very clearly powerless to stop. He was already asking God to watch over the kids, bracing for the sweet release of Heaven to save him from Tamaki Damo’s Hell.

“I’m here for the purpose of ‘interrogation’, which means I’m not in a position to kill you yet, even though you can see I clearly can at any time. So, taking that all into consideration, I’m going to assume that when I pull the marble in your throat out and patch back up your neck so you can talk, you’re not going to scream or yell, and will instead sit quietly until it comes time for you to respond to my questions.”

Norisuke did his best to nod yes as he blinked through his tears, making them fall into being yet another ingredient in the person soup that was becoming of his legs.

“Now please listen to me, Norisuke. This all began around a month ago with a series of sudden and tragic deaths. The playboy architect, Yotsuyu Yagiyama ceased all contact with the outside world, and was found hanging from his office’s rafters.” Damo’s face was blank, while his eyes rushed through every emotion at once as they gazed up and down Norisuke’s mangled limbs. “Aisho Dainenjiyama - a security guard and shareholder for the Seiten Birdies - is struck by a bus in front of an ambulance bay, and flees from a certain hospital intern that tried transporting him to the University Hospital, then is found dead in the woods.Further more, there were two eccentric twins who hung out on the street outside my cleaner, but nobody has reported seeing them in weeks.”

“Your son was friends with Yotsuyu; Isn’t that correct? Friends with quite a few benefits from what I’ve heard, so allow me to allow you to be privy to a certain unusual fact. That body that they found and called Yotsuyu - and the one of the guard Aisho too – is a fake. They were manufactured for a cover-up by a Stand user, like you and me.”

Damo jabbed his fingers through Norisuke’s neck, twirling them around a little bit like a confectionaire whisking chocolate cake batter, and eventually retrieved the marble he had placed there before, patting Norisuke’s throat back into proper shape.

Norisuke’s sharp, pained inhales were crisper now, and he was clearly resisting the urge to cry for help.

“Y-you’re a Stand user?” was what he settled on letting out. “I thought you were Hato’s boyfriend?”

“Those two statements don’t seem to be mutually exclusive to me, sir. In fact the latter statement is among my biggest boons at this moment, because your daughter currently has utmost trust in me. More to the point, I am aware of your family’s tendency to produce Stand users - a category to which the missing four I’m after also belong -, and I have come here with the belief that the culprit behind their vanishing is residing inside this house. As the pater familias here I feel you must be ready to accept responsibility.”

Norisuke tried to turn some of his peril into rage. “I guess that makes you a ‘Rock Human’, right?”

“Very astute you are!” Damo grinned while clapping his hands together like a seal. “Although I imagine your family is well-acquainted with people who can turn to stone.”

Those words were a harder blow to Norisuke than any mutilation Damo could deal to his body; Not that that would stop Damo from trying.

“‘Tamaki Damo’ is one of several identities I own, though my achievements are all mine. What has happened to you is the effects of my Stand, ‘Vitamin C’, which has a tenacity for making people terribly soft.” The horned menace popped up beside its master like a jack-in-the-box.

“I am dearly concerned about those four people, but they are truthfully not the only unusual death I am concerned with. I believe you are familiar with the case of Yoshikage Kira?”

“K-Kira?”

“Yes, I’m quite sure you had been communicating with that man not too long ago.”

“I’m starting to understand who exactly you are, but I don't have any knowledge of twins or a security guard; I don’t know who your culprit is! There’s nothing for you to gain from me!”

“Perhaps that is the case, but it’s certain that the person I seek will appear from me smoking them out of this house. It’s quite certain that the rest of your children have fallen into the grasp of Vitamin C as well, so I’m sure we could come to appreciate mutual cooperation.”

“Why…” Norisuke started to cry again. “Why them?”

“Well, the flow of events is quite interesting even to myself. Have you ever heard of the flying fish? Forgive me if this sounds like another joke, because it’s really not. They can’t fly like a bird or a plane, but these tiny torpedo shaped fish can propel themselves out of the water with great leaps and glide above the surface for quite some distance. As far back as I can trace, you’re in this predicament because of some flying fish coming afoul of a cargo ship.”

19 March, 2009

The gentle rock of the ship on the measured ocean waves. The salt-dotted breeze piercing through every movement with calm sternness. Existence was in its perfect state right now.

Or at least it had been, until frantic shouts for him dragged him out of his meditative slumbering bless like an army of hands riding the sound waves.

“Doctor, wake up! Please wake up, Doctor Kira, somebody has fell!”

“I’m up, I’m up,” Yoshikage Kira sprang up like a marionette, doing a rapid song-and-dance to switch from the emerald green sailor’s suit he had been sleeping into a fresh - although still identical - set. “And also it should be ‘has fallen’, Webster."

Yoshikage was escorted to the sight of a man with a bloodied face lying in the center of some scattered shipping containers. A crowd of other, more limber crew mates huddles around him, shouting about how he can’t breathe and other such panics that the uneducated go through when looking over the injured.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Doctor Kira! He was up on the bridge trying to get a visual on a container stack that was toppling over, when some of those flying cods jumped out of the water and smackedhim  right off his feet!”

Yoshikage knelt down and took a careful examination of the injured sailor. “It looks like his cheekbone suffered the impact of the fall, poor bastard. Guess being slapped by a fish would stun my parachute instinct too.” Kira gave annoyed glares to all the other crew who watched him as if he was performing magic. “Well, come on already! Somebody with keys open the sick bay so I can perform surgery, and somebody without keys carry the guy there!”

“O-of course, Doctor," a toady little sailor bowed as he tried to avoid slipping on the rain drops as he ran into action.

“Now, where’s the other injured?”

The crew looked at each other in uncertainty. “He was the only one, Doctor.”

“Is that so? Well then who wants to explain that blood splatter all the way over there?”

Yoshikage pointed to a container which had been a casualty of the knocked over stack, albeit which thankfully had avoided going overboard. Its door had been forced open after the lock took the brunt of the fall, and it was swung open to reveal a noticeable coating of blood on the interior.

“That one, 2.74 meters over there. Who’s blood is that?”

Yoshikage crept up to the container, equipping himself with a flashlight he beckoned from one of the other men.

“What the hell? Is this even blood?” The substance was most certainly close to blood, but it was off in subtle ways. A little more congealed than it ought to have been, maybe.

He swung the light to inside the container, and jumped back in surprise of a face staring back at him.

After a second spent waiting for it to request aid, however, Yoshikage found that the face did not belong to a poor fellow with a gashed open limb, but a statue.

Yoshikage examined it from top to bottom, wondering who would want such a lifelike statue of not a Greek God or polymath, but a curled up beatnik in a beanie.

“Hope there’s insurance on this, the fall made it get a chip,” he mused at the thought of some pretentious yuppy losing a seven digit number on some shitty art piece, when his attention was taken in a more serious direction.

“There is more blood on the chip,” he realized. “ No, not on the chip… It’s coming from the chip. ”

The bleeding statue.

That which lives, but is coated in stone.

“False alarm. Close up this container at once,” Yoshikage ordered. “And somebody bring me the manifest of everything inside it!”

One of the sailors he was barking at tugged on his shirt collar like a toddler. Ruining its perfectly balanced fold. “Uh, doctor, I don’t really think you have the authority to ask for that sort of information, do you?”

“Hence why instead of asking for it, I told your kiss ass to find it for me already!”

“Yes Doctor Kira sir!”

“Out here, in a place like this… Did I really find somebody else like that? Somebody or something… that ended up like her? ”

6 October, 2011

Hato strutted into the kitchen, bewilderingly looking at the massive field of transparent arms that had appeared instead of any slice of life.

“Ms.Nijimura?” she called out to an absence of the aforementioned woman, “Have you seen everybo-”

“Hato!”

She was suddenly dragged backwards by her ankle into the hallway. Everything around seemed weird and… gooey, almost, something she figured was the effects of blood rushing to her head as she was flipped upside down, a round bubble lifting her up by her foot.

“JoJo?” She actually giggled a little bit as she spoke to him, hands against her hem to keep it from flipping towards the floor like her hair had.

“Hato! Don’t step anywhere you see those hands, it’s dangerous!”

Her beaming smile quickly dropped as she saw Josuke’s eyes; Reflected in one colour was fear, and in the other sheer resolve.

“Hato, I’m sorry, but I need your blessing,” Josuke panted, stepping forward a bit as his leg wobbled with instability.

“Blessing?”

“The guy you brought over, I need you to let me kill him. Now.”

“Tamaki? What are you-”

Hato was cut off again, then time by groans coming from slightly further into the hall, just at the bottom of the stairs to her dad’s room. Hato focused on the strange pile of colors that had been obscured by Josuke, gasping as she realized it was her brother.

“Hatooooo,” he gurgled, barely able to speak. “Find Daiya and… get out of here…”

“I won’t do it unless you’re okay with it, Hato, but…” Unable to find words, Josuke shoved the fax from Yasuho in her hands.

“Tamaki? But he-”

“He used you! I’ll make it quick, if you want me to, but time’s running out!”  More ghoulish hands crawled up Josuke’s legs as his Stand floated above his sweating brow. “I need to use my soap bubbles to kill him. We’re under attack by his Stand!”

Hato froze up, and so did her heart.

Chapter Text

21 March, 2009

“Now, I want you to tell me… Isamu.” Yoshikage stood wrapped in a swarm of perfectly measured fibers, their embrace none more tender than the recluse tailor’s. “Your services are employed by the Higashikata Family, isn’t that correct? Have you ever thought of them as suspicious people?”

“S-suspicious?” Isamu choked a little, scratching his shoulder through his barely-there fishnet top. “Can’t say I do.” he lied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, with that strange container I looked in, once I got my hands on the shipping manifest I found out that the cargo contained within was all ordered by their Higashikata Fruit Parlor: Stone statues, as decor for an indoor artificial garden, as well as cases of quote-on-quote ‘exotic fruit.’”

Isamu Otoishi kept quiet; As was often the case, Yoshikage’s thoughts solely owned the room.

“It’s up to you if you believe this story or not, but some years ago, I had an encounter with a strange creature that could contort itself into the form of an inanimate rock. This being only had the size and form of a small insect, but it would prove the principle that a ‘living thing which turns to stone’ exists, don’t you think?”

“Truly a peculiar train of thought, yours is,” Isamu quite literally wrapped things up, hastening his Stand’s construction of an emerald green sailing suit. This was the 16th identical outfit Yoshikage Kira had bought from him.

“That snooty prick. I bet he thinks we’re the best of friends,” Yoshikage chuckled to himself sometime later, having taken up residence in a booth within Dashiro, a charming sand scented ramen bar wedged on the boardwalk. “Of course I’m quite thankful that I found him. Somebody with the ability to create the perfect outfit every time, and myself who demands to live with visual perfection… How wonderful it is that the universe can bring two people together like that. ”

Yoshikage studied himself in a palm-held mirror, ensuring the pins - one pale blue anchor and one vivid red compass rose - attached to his new suit’s breast were positioned at a perfect ninety two-point-two-four degree angle, and taking pride in his luxury SBR cap.

A slight hint of tan got strung into the reflection’s background, ruining the image of Yoshikage’s own ghostly complexion. He arched his back over his chair, nearly flipping to the ground in his strain to observe the dastardly intruder.

“Looking bronzed today, Ojiro.”

Ojiro Sasame would be best summarized as the muse of Yoshikage’s agitation.

Today the part-timer surfer, full-time jackass was accompanied by a lovely dinner date in a scandalous black dress, whose lips were a matching cherry red to some heart-shaped sunglasses Yoshikage recognized as having been purchased from a supermarket two stores down.

“I’d commend you for actually spending some time in the sun if I couldn’t smell the DHA coming off you.”

“D H huh?” the fake color from Ojiro’s face started draining as Yoshikage abandoned his table and invited himself to a kneeling position beside Ojiro’s. “K-Kira, Doctor Kira!”

“So have you made any improvement to your decisiveness, like we talked about?”

Ojiro turned to his lady friend for support, but was met with her silence as she hid half her face behind her lengthy fringe.

“Well, I actually have been feeling less depressed I guess.”

“Good!” Yoshikage gave him a very firm thumbs up, shoved in front of Ojiro’s eyes like a carrot in front of a mule. “Now how about working on getting a real God damn job, and ceasing your habit of loitering your ugly mug around the beach!”

“Hey!” This finally prompted Ojiro to stand up. “You can’t talk-” his anger was abruptly gagged by a large, pulsing bubble forming inside his cheek.

“What’s that about ‘can’t talk?’ I think that’s actually you, Ojiro!”

With a loud pop , Ojiro’s jaw tingled with wisps of fire, which crawled out of a new, bleeding wound and ate away at one of his top teeth until he was left with a childish gap. In the meantime, the force had stunned him and sent him tumbling backwards into the ramen bar’s counter. His momentum may have made it all the way over the other side had he not braked himself by slamming into some young punk who was picking up his bowl of noodles.

Recognizing the situation as a loss, Ojiro ran out into the night without another retort; His date mousily followed after him, leaving Yoshikage to pity the poor woman.

“Hey!” Yoshikage’s smug face was drawn towards the boorish server.

“You got some kind of problem?”

“Why I would say that I do! Your little square-up just ruined this kid’s bowl,” the server gestured towards a pepper shaker, which had spilled open on impact from Ojiro, leaving the surface of the kid’s meal covered in a fine black layer.

“Hey hey, no problems here,” the customer spoke for himself, diffusing the situation. “I have a special magic trick for cases such as these.”

True to his description, the pepper shaker rose out of the bowl like magic, floating on a cloud of tiny bubbles which were each filled up with the mishandled spice.

“Is that… another Stand ability? ”

Yoshikage decided it wasn’t worth finding out, and he proceeded out of the restaurant, appetite rather tainted. He’d subsist off of a diet of stargazing for tonight.

Above him, two shooting stars flew overhead, drawn down in a fiery streak by the Earth’s gravity.

“Hey, wait up!”

A more friendly beckon followed him out of the ramen bar. It was that same kid, who Yoshikage got a better look at now. He wore a blue checker patterned sweater, adorned with a pin of a peace sign. His hair was done up in a slightly dated pompadour, with short sides. His skin was tan - a real tan, not like Ojiro’s - but Yoshikage would nearly swear this boy’s eyes were the same color as his own. He gave him a warm, brotherly smile. “Doctor Kira!” he exclaimed with the glee of a family reunion.

“Do I know you?”

27 July, 1997

Sand was tossed into the crisp summer air by approaching footsteps, blown into the cliffside by a refreshing salt-scented breeze; She laid on her side like a pinup girl, worming her finger under her straw sun hat to play with her pale pink locks in the hopes of charming over the duo of beach hunks who were passing her by.

“Hey, are you guys going home already?” she called after them, functionally forcing them to come her way.

“We’re heading up to grab some Jello shots at that villa up there.” She was reached out to by a shirtless, fluffy haired young man. “You wanna come with? That’s a pretty cute bikini after all.”

His arm was retracted from her lit up visage by an arm nudge from his buzzcut, jacketed friend. His eyes pointed towards a rubber ducky and wooden fire truck that sat next to her on her fluffy, red and white striped beach towel, then traced over to a small boy no more than five stuffed into a translucent inner tube, barely visible playing behind a cliff's corner.

“Oh uh, sorry. Nevermind.” His words barely had time to come out of his mouth before they departed the scene, undeterred by her tossing her hat over the toys in effort to obscure them.

Her attention was brought to her son only for a second, which was spent yelling at him to not turn over any rocks lest he get bitten by a bug. She resigned herself to laying eyes towards the clouds, head resting on one of her soft arms while the other one fished in the depths of her purse. At first it reeled up a stack of papers - which she hastily patted back down fearing that anybody would see the bold black label of “DIVORCE REGISTRATION” centered on top - before they successfully retrieved a box of Benadryl pills.

It just wasn’t fair damn it, why did being a mom have to make everybody grant her the title of most repulsive woman in Morioh. It’s not like she was covered in baby fat; Hell, she thought she looked better now than she did before the pregnancy. Guys are just so shallow.

She downed three of the Benadryl to start with, telling herself for the fifth day in a row that she’d quit tomorrow; Such had been the case since she was let go for passing out on the job one too many times.

Then there was a disturbance.

As a child, her mother had told her about the sixth sense of the divine feminine: children’s noises. More specifically, that a lack of them was bad news.

There was no more conversation with a crab hiding tucked in the swash, nor any wet, clumpy shuffles.

She hated that she picked up on it, because it meant her mother was right, and that she was becoming like her mother.

She started treading over to his play area, leering her head around the rocky angle he had wandered behind.

Her heart dropped twenty storeys. His inner tube lay flat against the shore, the boy inside not in sight.

She clutched the circular floatie close to her heart, as if waiting for her son to appear from underneath it. Her gaze was drawn into the waves in front of her.

He was there.

Her boy had been sucked into the current like he was returning to the womb, his dark hair swept up as his tiny arm reached out for her, bubbles flying upwards as she nearly swore that he mouthed “Mommy.”

She recoiled in terror, neck flinching to the side and setting her to watch a flock of what should’ve been her peers, dancing around to catch volleyballs like seagulls diving for a snack.

“Get yourself together, Kiyomi,” her mind begged of her.

“Josefumi!”

Doctor Holy Joestar-Kira stared at Josefumi Kujo - the boy who lay near death on a bed in front of her - with an untameable rainbow of remorse and grief piercing through the drowsiness of being on the tail end of a 12 hour shift as she resisted the urge to clutch the child to her breast and comfort him in last moments.

He had come to her in cardiac arrest, spending 20 minutes in the sea before being rescued. The water had been purged from his lungs, but he suffered from a devastating occipital bone fracture, which Holy speculated with near certainty had come from his head being smashed against a rock by the waves. It would have proven a quicker killer than drowning, but she had managed to fix that. Unfortunately, it seemed other complications beyond her grasp were proving an issue.

Holy turned her head to the boy’s mother, wallowing in the shadows of the room wrapped in a paramedic’s blanket, and then to the shadow of her own children on the opposite side of the cubicle curtain.

A smirk coming to her face and a scheme coming to her brain, Holy tenderly released her grasp on the boy and peeled back the curtain, revealing her darling kids in their full form. Her two prides were her medicine and her children, and it was time to bring them together.

On the left stood little Kei in overalls, clutching a giant stuffed bear that was nearly as dense as her hat. And on the right, her pale, lanky son Yoshikage.

“Hey mom, we’re gonna drop Kei off with the babysitter and go see Titanic , right? That movie is over three hours long, we better get going.” Yoshikage scowled as he saw who exactly his mother had been tending to as her last patient of the night. “That kid just died, didn’t he?”

Holy shook her head. “Not yet, I was able to restore him almost entirely, but somewhere in him he’s developed a blood clot that’ll cause a pulmonary embolism. With how much trauma his lungs have had already, it’s definitely gonna kill him, and my Stand doesn’t have the precision to find it.”

“What a tragedy,” Yoshikage tutted. His mother glared with disappointment.

“Keyword, my Stand.” Yoshikage raised an eyebrow.

“For real? You don’t think that’ll cause a ruckus?”

“I’ll take responsibility, damn it, just do it.”

“Well, since you insist.” Yoshikage skipped up to the hospital bed and raised his arm with pride, a glow of metallic blue rising behind it.

“Killer Queen!”

Stands are the shape of your soul, yet for some that shape is torn in two, a conflict between selves. Even as a young lad, Yoshikage Kira was a man of strong if cynical principles, yet carried within him a vile puddle of misanthropy and fetishism.

The shape of that puddle was a miniature tank which emerged from Killer Queen’s hand, its body rounded out by layers upon layers of army green coating. In lieu of a cannon, it had a devil’s horned skull mounted to the front.

Killer Queen gripped Josefumi’s arm as the so-called Sub-Stand rolled off its wrist with many metallic clanks, phasing into the frail boy’s body and repeatedly halving in size until it was nearly microscopic.

“H e y, l o o k o v e r h e r e,” a grizzled voice commanded, the announcement of victory thunderous even with its source’s miniscule size.

“‘Sheer Heart Attack’, fire!”

A small puft could be heard as inside Josefumi’s bloodstream, Killer Queen’s tank shot a vibrant emerald laser from its skull’s mouth that made quick work of dissolving the blood clot that was threatening him.

A small bit of coughed up blood later, Josefumi Kujo was miraculously in stable condition.

“Good boy!” Holy cooed over him as his heart monitor gave off normal patterns. “Now we can move you to a room down that hallway and get you seen by some nice specialists, okay?”

Yoshikage instead went to the other side of the room to confront the wayward mother.

“I doubt you understand what just went on, but he’ll be okay.” She looked at him, color coming back into her face underneath her tear streaks as guilt washed out of her eyes. “Seems to me like you’re feeling a little bit more than just relief for your child’s safety, huh?” Yoshikage shook his head. “Titanic better be worth it.”

21 March, 2009

“I still have the photo we took that day, your family with me and my mom, I mean.”

Josefumi flipped open his wallet to show the creased, faded print in question. Yoshikage took the chance to appreciate his mother in her prime, and the former innocence of his sister.

“Hey, do you think I could say hi sometime? To your mom, I mean. I really owe it to her.”

Yoshikage turned away from him, his nose pointed back towards the twin comets streaking in sync.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, she hasn’t been feeling herself lately.”

“Oh.” Josefumi said, dejected. “Well then could you-”

“Listen, kid, what are you doing these days?”

Josefumi eagerly answered, despite being interrupted. “Well, I’m gonna graduate early! Then I want to study agriculture, and maybe work for the Higashikata Fruits Company.”

“Higashikatas, again.” Yoshikage grimaced. “Well, sounds like you’ll have a plenty good life. If you have any idea of what’s good for you, you’ll forget we ran into each other.”

As the two shooting stars disappeared behind moon kissed clouds, Yoshikage Kira left Josefumi Kujo behind.

Chapter Text

24 November, 2008

Atsunori Iwakiri wasn’t the type of guy who engaged in poetry, but if he had been he’d be calling himself Ozymandias, Pitcher of Pitchers. His hospital stay was ending, but confinement had only begun.

All of the jargon exchanged by doctors and the suited Birdies shareholders were bricked out from his ears by the cries of concern that his crowd of fans had let out when their beloved icon “Magic Shoulder Atsu” blew out his all-powerful joint during the last game of the season.

The Birdies’ owner was staring at him with forlorn sadness. Her name was Kitani, CEO of Seiten Holdings, and her lust for money was as wide as her waist. Atsunori knew that the “s”es in her sadness were dollar signs. He could scarcely care less about the loss of company money that would come with his career plummeting, he had a 300 million yen salary waiting for him at home.

His mourning was for joy, the happiness of the fans. Maybe none of these doctors or suits understood it, but Atsunori knew baseball meant a lot to a lot of people. He meant a lot to a lot of people.

Now, he was being told he wasn’t gonna be able to pitch a ball with greater force than a pancake could. It just wasn’t fair. What was the point of all this money getting thrown at him and his bosses if the cash couldn’t buy him back into the game.

It just couldn’t happen, money was supposed to make the world go round, but nobody in the entire hospital could do anything for as much as they’ve earned? 

There had to be some way he could buy his way out of fate, he just needed to find it.

24 July, 2009

Each steel locker door inside the outer rims of Mori Stadium felt like a bar on a jail cell; Atsunari’s body was burning with an insatiable itch to return to the playing field.

After months of work around appealing to all forms of quacks and chiropractors about his shoulders, he had been approached by a shifty security guard for the very building his team called their home.

He had brought a crate-shaped suitcase in with him, which he propped open after taking a cautious look around to ensure they were alone and isolated. The humming fluorescent lights shone down on a stout trunked plant, deep green fruit bulging off the ends of its plain brown branches.

“You’re only getting the one fruit, but I brought the whole tree to ensure quality and freshness for you.”

Atsunari stared down at the plant, more or less dumbfounded. “Uh, how does this work again?”

Aisho started sweating, dragging a bottle of beetroot supplements out of his pockets and downing them to keep his composure.

“It’s a fruit! Haven’t you eaten a lemon before? Just take the fruit - with your left and/or right hand -, twist it off, bring it to your mouth, and then bite into it, skin and all.”

“I... I can’t trust you. Is that fruit really worth that much?”

Aisho scoffed, trying to do it the way Yotsuyu did. “Well, I dunno, you just said you’d bring money here, so I brought the fruit.” Unseen to Atsunari, a sheer blue wind started coating Aisho’s hands, leading down to a sharp point. “Whether you want to pay up or not is up to you, but if you’re not interested I’d prefer to be on my way.”

Atsunari tried his best to think it through, as his bench reverberated with the footsteps of fans lining up to their seats early. Grimacing, he bowed down to under his seat and dragged up a briefcase. He offered it to Aisho, clicking it open to show off a dozen stacks of yen bills. Aisho’s sunken eyes rolled over them.

“I can feel you’re an honest dude, I won’t need to count this. Our deal is done, you can take your fruit.” Atsunari reached into the tree case and squished a fruit in his hands, pensively starting to twirl it off its branch. Aisho poked his tongue with cheek in impatience.

“Just to make it clear one more time, when you eat that you’re going to have an ‘equivalent exchange.’ I can make no guesses or promises as to what could happen to you. I can say with certainty that your shoulder will get restored, but your eyeballs could turn to stone and make you go blind. There’s no promise that you’ll be able to play ball anyway afterwards. Are you sure about this?”

“Well, if something bad happens I can just buy another fruit, right?”

Aisho let out a meaty laugh and patted Atsunari on the shoulder, which forced his Locacaca to finally come off the branch as his arm slumped downwards. In one motion Aisho scooped back up the plant crate, closing it up and straining as he carried both cases with him, leaving in a rush.

“Just how much money did you get for that fruit, Aisho Dainenjiyama? What’s a miracle cure worth for you ?” Aisho left the scene blissfully unaware of the watching eye. A camera scope, slithered through the vents of the building like a hungry snake, now reeled back in with its jaws full. “What’s your price for a human life? ”

Yoshikage moved his claimed prize to an SD card, which he secured in a Ziploc baggie and hid in his pocket. “Now, nobody ever has to know this was here. Killer Queen .”

Yoshikage’s Stand appeared crouching behind him, gripping a spinning soap bubble in its palm like a basketball. It launched its bubble at the snake’s tail, dragging the entire length of the camera into its rotation. The scope became an ouroboros as it spun around with the bubble at blurringly high speeds.

“Detonate.”

The bubble burst open with a pop and ignited, expanding its infinite energy outwards until the target’s mass was reduced to zero.

Yoshikage turned on his heel and held his hat on his head against the windfall. He scowled. He often scowled, but this time it was for a reason.

There was another snake in the room with him, a shadow which leered from behind the corner at the end of the corridor, making a failed try at a stealthy retreat upon Yoshikage’s notice.

He stood still for a moment.

“USHAAAA!”

Yoshikage dashed full speed back into the daylight, sicking Killer Queen’s hands around the throat of his observer. He was ready to blast their throat apart but his eyes’ killing intent was simmered down by recognition.

“J-Josefumi?” Killer Queen dropped the young man on the ground, his pants getting scuffed by asphalt. “What in the utter hell are you doing? I told you to stay away from me!”

Josefumi took deep breaths, staring Yoshikage down with unyielding resolve.

“Your mom. Doctor Holy.”

Yoshikage glared right back at him.

“I know, she’s sick. That’s what’s going on here, isn’t it? You caused her to fall ill because of your Stand ability, and now you’re trying to search for a way to heal her!”

Yoshikage was fuming. “I ought to beat your ass for saying that! Do you really take me for a man who would batter his own mother?”

“Well, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.” Josefumi stood up and patted the dust off his legs. “But am I right about everything else then?”

Yoshikage walked right past him. “You aren’t one who’s prone to wit, you know.”

A pungent taste of figs filled Atsunari’s mouth, juices of the plump fruit flowing down his throat.

“Hey, it’s working! My shoulder feels way bet-”

His own thoughts were cut off by his mouth locking up as it finished slurping down the skin. Like water brought to a napkin, stone gray discoloration started overtaking his jaw. His flesh was eliminated as his mouth was hardened. His teeth fell into grains as jagged stalagmites stabbed down from the roof of his mouth, severing the structure and forcing his petrified jaw to fall to his feet.

30 July, 2009

Dusk had fallen. Yoshikage and Josefumi shared their company in the park with only a mother duck who was hastily leading a trail of ducklings behind her home.

“The rising star pitcher for the Birdies, a serious pop culture phenomenon. I’m sure you heard about his arm getting injured? Him being put on the disabled list? Now ‘Magic Shoulder Atsu’ has made a miraculous full recovery, but coincidentally he also has to wear a jaw guard because of a ‘dog attack.’ What the public doesn’t know is right here, his recovery happened when he brought that fruit for two hundred million yen,” Yoshikage explained, scrolling his phone through the footage he captured. “They’re sold by this man, Aisho Dainenjiyama, but he’ll only get in contact with select, wealthy people. He won’t even consider you or me, and it’s all supposed to be done in secret. Thankfully though, he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and paranoia isn’t a substitute for caution.”

“So, you’re going to steal a fruit from him?”

Yoshikage jeered. “I wish, but there’s no way he wouldn’t notice an entire fruit missing. I’ve tried things like stealing the seeds, scraps, remnants of any sort, but it won’t grow. They’re native to a special environment somewhere near Papua New Guinea, I think.”

Josefumi hesitated for a second. “Why can’t you just… kill him? I mean, with your Killer Queen.”

“I did take the hippocratic oath, you know,” Yoshikage crossed his arms indignantly. “Besides, it’s a certainty to me that Aisho isn’t the only one. No, a guy like him? He’s only a dealer. There’s a bigger operation at play here. Other people who can get the Locacaca fruit, other people like him.”

“Other… rock people?”

“Look, Josefumi, if you don’t take me seriously you’re welcome to leave at any time, although if you blab and get me killed I’ll be seriously pissed off.”

Josefumi rose, which nearly earned Yoshikage’s disappointment before he - instead of walking away - merely bent down and plucked a pale blue delphinium from the dirt.

“Doctor Kira… No, let me call you Yoshikage. You don’t need to worry about that, I’m a person I want you to put your absolute trust in.”

“You understand I’m not kidding about the possibility of danger, then?”

“Don’t worry, there’s not going to be any danger. I mean, I’m sure you’re right that this ‘operation’ would go after anybody who stole from them, but who's to say anybody steals to begin with?”

“I don’t follow. I told you, even with a doctor’s salary, Aisho Dainenjiyama wouldn’t consider selling to me.”

Josefumi reached up to a tree limb hanging overhead, and snapped it off at the halfway point. “You were on the right track of trying to grow one yourself, methinks, but just planting a discarded piece like that can’t work. What you need is grafting.”

“Grafting?”

“Yeah, if you can attach a piece of one plant to another, the cells can adapt and start growing again.” Josefumi was eager to show off his area of expertise.

He held up the flower to the cut on the branch, measuring its stem out to be parallel with the tree’s limbs.

“Soft & Wet!”

A golden aura radiated around Josefumi, forming into a barrel chested sailor robot. Its golden armor glistened in the setting sun as it proudly went to work.

The flower and branch were overtaken by a flurry of miniature bubbles, which smacked and popped until by the time they dissipated, the two had become one.

“In that video of yours, the dealer took an entire plant with him, right? He doesn’t just carry a single fruit, it’s the entire tree! That’s the ticket, Yoshikage, we have to get inside that case and take just a branch. Then, my Stand will graft a different branch back on, so it'll be impossible to tell anything was ever taken.”

Yoshikage stood up himself to admire the flower fused onto the tree. “‘Grafting’, huh? Your absorption Stand lets you combine things like this? Alright, Josefumi, you have my trust now.”

Josefumi smiled brighter than the stars on his Stand’s shoulders.

“What do you want in return, huh? I had no intention of selling those fruits myself, so if you want to go in that direction once we’re done, it’s all yours.”

Josefumi shook his head.

“My goal is the same as yours.” 

Yoshikage raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been thinking about this since forever. That day when I was a kid in the summer, if I hadn’t been brought to you and Doctor Holy, I wouldn’t be here right now. That alone… You guys did more stuff for me than my deadbeat parents ever did. I’ve barely ever seen her, but I feel like she’s more of a mother to me than my actual mom. We’re brothers in arms, Yoshikage, just tell me what to do.”

“This kid.. He’s… ” Yoshikage looked past Josefumi’s illuminated eyes, and down to his shoulder, the rim of his neck sticking out from under a shirt collar he was never taught to fold right.

Just like Josefumi himself spying from around a corner, there was something trying to hide underneath that cloth.

A birthmark, reddened skin in the shape of a star.

“Who are you, Josefumi Kujo? ”

October 3, 2009

Josefumi had landed himself in a not particularly bright preview of his future, dressed in a dime-a-dozen black suit with a matching generic tie, shuffling through a crowd of clean cut salarymen. Overshadowed from the towering rows of office buildings was their rendezvous point: a compact convenience store tailoring to the last minute needs of the 9-to-5. He had shoved in his deep jacket pocket two unusual things: A hunting knife, and the branch of a fig tree.

Yoshikage barely acknowledged his arrival, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. He had shown up in a fitted vivid green pinstripe ensemble that made Josefumi feel a little half-assed in his mass produced monochrome. The evening sunlight took a break from bouncing between windows to shine across the rare sight of his raven-hued hair on full display, sans hat. His incognito look’s centerpiece was instead fastened around the neck, a row of golden cat skulls on black fabric, draped over each other in an eldredge knot.

“You remember what to look for, right?”

Josefumi nodded, hoping the lack of friendly attitude was down to professionalism. “Eye Eye Captain, with the pirate on the box.” He referred to a brand of eye drops, one of the sort of niche medicines favored as coping mechanisms by Aisho Dainenjiyama. Soft & Wet had too short of range to be a stealth attacker, so their plan depended on setting a trap.

“He’ll be coming in about twelve minutes,” Yoshikage stated with confidence, having mapped out Aisho’s religiously followed schedule to a tee, “you go in and get started and I’ll do a lap around the block.”

Josefumi scurried across the store floor until he found a cardboard display of eye drop boxes on a bottom shelf, priced for a low low 520 yen. He side eyed the counter clerk - a teenager who was dead to the world - for a second before he peeled open the top flat of one such box, shaking the bottle down into his hand.

“Soft & Wet.” The golden arm of Josefumi’s Stand wrapped around his own, shooting a flurry of infinitely tiny bubbles straight through the bottle and into the midst of the solution inside. Even now that they were away from him, Josefumi could still sense and control the bubbles inside.

A wee bell fixed to the door of the store sounded out, making Josefumi jump a bit as he turned to watch the next customer walk inside.

It was Aisho Dainenjiyama. In the flesh his face looked even more sunken and squirrely inside the coddle of his strange scarf-slash-hat fashioned out of a sweater than it had been in Yoshikage’s secret video. His left hand was looped around the handle of his all too alluring crate, which was just barely golden in hue.

“Oh boy!” Josefumi started cheering out loud, trying not to miss a beat. “Finally a place with Eye Eye Captain!”

The store clerk put in the effort to give Josefumi a mild glance.

“Hey Mr.Cashier, is it alright if I buy every box at once?”

The cashier muttered some form of affirmation, and Aisho watched Josefumi scoop up every box of the eye drops, except for one which conveniently tumbled out of the pile onto the floor, leaving Aisho to creep up and inspect it while Josefumi checked out.

“This stuff seriously makes my eyes clearer than they’ve ever been!” After his role-play as the devil on Aisho’s shoulder, Josefumi gritted his teeth as he forked over a trio of 2000 yen bills, as a young lady had walked in next instead of Yoshikage.

“Hey hey!” Yoshikage finally burst in soon after, flooding the store with a chipper energy that was impressive opposite to his normal self. “Have you got any Eye Eye Captain in stock? I’ve been looking everyyyyywhere!”

Aisho shot the other customers a dirty look and took the last box of the Eye Eye Captain for himself.

Luckily, the girl had gotten to the counter before Aisho, giving Josefumi time to round behind a corner in wait while Yoshikage made a stealthy departure without buying anything. Aisho had come out of the store and - as he did everyday - was waiting several minutes to cross the street, carrying his sweet sweet case in tow. All Josefumi needed to wait for was Yoshikage to create a distraction.

Dirt was being blown off the road by a rude biker who had hot-shotted around the corner, revving his handles as if there was somebody in the mood to be impressed. Aisho turned up his nose at the oily stench off the newly fueled motorcycle, and began to raise the Eye Eye Captain dropper to the sky and pointed down to his corneas.

Josefumi grew antsy. “Come on, come on.”

Yoshikage grew excited. “It’s showtime.”

BOOM

In exact timing with Aisho’s squeeze of the dropper, the biker’s front wheel had spontaneously blown out, sending him skidding to a halt to the sidewalk opposite Aisho.

“Woah! An accident.” Aisho knew he should be startled but he actually became intensely excited. If the fixation on the sight of the blowout didn’t make his day, the stinging of liquid in his eye did, as he was oblivious to the small bubbles which had formed their way out of the drop. Supple and moist, they spun the light around his eyes, overlapping with each other to create a cascading veil over his peripheral vision.

Josefumi was shocked and ashamed that this was Yoshikage’s idea of a distraction, but there wasn’t a picosecond to waste; It was go time.

He dashed behind Aisho’s craned over head and bulged out eyes and popped open his case, Soft & Wet’s hand appearing to gently soothe its hinge down. Using a convenient shout to cover the shutter sound, Josefumi first snapped a cellphone pic of the tree, and then began hastily sawing away at a bare branch with his knife. Josefumi stifled his urge to shout with glee as it came cleanly off in his hands, switching it for the fig branch from his pocket. He positioned the branch at the remaining stud in such a way to match how the original had been, referencing his phone photo.

Once it was good enough, more bubbles came cascading from his fingertips, gluing on the branch at a molecular level. Josefumi left them to do their work as he shut the case sooner rather than later, and dashed off.

It took seven seconds, and it all could’ve been blown in any of them if Aisho looked behind him even once.

But, being the man he was, he hadn’t.

Mission accomplished.

The biker had been tended to by plenty of passersby, each one clamoring to ask him if he was alright. It was nearly a heartwarming sight, a troupe of cold cut office workers helping out a young guy who dreamed big like they all once did.

“I’m fine, I just really don’t know what could’ve made it blow out like that,” he said, weary at the sight of his deflated and scorched front wheel.

“Let’s call you an ambulance,” a polite old timer suggested.

“No no, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” the biker was answered for by Yoshikage Kira, who calmly tapped his feet past the scene. “He looks and sounds to be in perfect shape. Trust me,” Yoshikage smiled wide watching his co-conspirator walk away from the mark, “I’m a doctor.”

Josefumi crossed the street a block or two later, rushing to the popping collage of green up ahead. He almost tripped over his own ankles as he pulled Yoshikage into a joyous victory hug, his branch-carrying arm raised high in victory.

“Give me a break kid, my own sister doesn’t hug me like this.” Yoshikage slipped his way out of the embrace, and nicked Josefumi’s wrist.

“Don’t go parading that around either,” he barked, neglecting that Josefumi couldn’t read his mind to be caught up with what the other “don’t” was, “keep it tucked away until we can get it inside.”

Josefumi nodded, nearly too excited to coherently speak.

“I’ll keep this alive as long as I can inside of your apartment, but we need to find a new ‘host body’ as soon as possible,” he explained.

“Don’t worry, Morioh’s a special place. If guys like that were bringing things like this here to begin with, there must be some place we can take it to grow…”

Yoshikage’s ruminations were cut off by Joseufmi yelping in surprise. He nearly started pummeling the nearest human shaped thing, but was relieved to see Josefumi had merely bumped into another businessman, albeit an eccentric looking one.

“S-Sorry,” Josefumi bowed in apology, awkwardly positioning his arms to keep the outline of the stolen branch at bay.

“You’ll forgive my subordinate’s lack of spatial awareness,” Yoshikage ordered, not asked.

“Hey hey, it’s all cool.” A great, smug heat radiated from the man. “‘You’re only human after all.’”

Yoshikage tsked at him. “Why are you saying that to me? He’s the one who bumped into you.”

The businessman twirled his head around in confusion, with a small twinge of offense. “No no, don’t you get it?” Yoshikage shook his head. “Aw man! That’s something Aida Mitsuo said! The great poet!”

“Yeah… whatever.” Yoshikage grabbed Josefumi’s arm like a mother guiding her toddler and shuffled away. “Have a good day,” he said without bothering to look at the man.

“Jeez, what kind of jerk doesn’t even know basic Mitsuo? It’d kill an intellectual looking brat like that to actually read for once in his life.”

Yoshikage Kira and Josefumi Kujo departed to await the harvest, whilst Jobin Higashikata walked in his never ending summer vacation.

Chapter Text

October 7, 2009

Pale sand liquid wobbled in two puddles as their cups were hoisted up, tea bags flapping over their edges like leaves ready to fall off for autumn. Grasping them stood Holy Joestar-Kira, her face and chest shadowed by a red riding hood, the silk fabric of which blended in seamlessly with her rose hued hair.

“I’m having some tea; Would you like the other cup, um…”

Opposite to her sat a young woman whose eyes were similarly kept from view, saving them the immodesty of their tears being shown to the sun.

“Yeah, I’d love some… mom.”

Holy looked up as her eyes were relit with recognition, disregarding her tea to coo over her Kei, running her fingers through her daughter’s night sky hair. Where the raven strands met her firm yet fuzzy hat, Holy patted down with affection.

“Kei… How silly of me, I didn’t even notice when you got here.” She scurried around her own house like a field mouse watching the sky for hawks. At some point or another in her aimless swiping, she had procured a book which she returned to Kei to lay in her hands.

The Rose of Versailles , its pages yellowed with time to match the trim on the cover, a circular portrait of a pastel-colored regal couple which was stained by a careless child using the comic as a coaster.

“This one is- it’s a classic. It was my favorite when I was in high school,” Holy explained, not that Kei needed to be told a forty-ninth time. “You should give it to your friend over there to read. Just to borrow of course; I don’t care if I have to keep the pages stapled together! That’s my original copy and I’m keeping it with me until I die!”

The friend she referred to lingered in the doorway, striking through the pasty wall paint with a vibrant splash of emerald.

“I’ve already read that book cover to cover, mom.”

Holy stood confounded, a slight tremble emerging from her stance.

“Come on mamma, let’s get you to bed,” Kei offered her hand to her mother, who slapped it away.

“Don’t even start that Kei! I’m well aware of what’s going on here! I’m ashamed you think I’d ever forget my own children! I’d never, not ever!”

Kei was shaking like a leaf, tears walled up behind her eyes by iron conviction.

“So, how much longer do we think we can keep her at home?”

Hearing the idea come into reality caused Kei to fall dizzy, her vertigo being the only thing stopping her from bucking her leg and smashing her brother’s sociopathic nose in.

“You shouldn’t be so afraid of it, if it’ll help her. She’d have told her patients’ families to do the same. I spoke with one of her colleagues from the University Hospital, Marukami Muni; He’s a good man, he promised us that everyone there will take care of her. They have the best technology in the world, they can help her more than you can, Kei.”

Yoshikage’s words fell into one of Kei’s ears then spewed straight out the other. How could somebody like him get it? It was easy to be detached when you got the good life. When you got to have memories of your father from childhood, and when you got to spend adolescence with a mother who took more care of you than you did of her.

“Her condition isn’t one that medicine can help,” Kei puttered out, an echo of oppression shaking through her skull as she prepared to have an identical argument with her brother as the many she had had before.

As Kei had learned around a year ago, Morioh was a fairytale kingdom and the wicked royals who ruled from the high castle were the Higashikata Family. At the turn of the century, their first generation patriarch had been shot dead, and days later his son in-law died in an accident. The latter man was the one immortalized in Morioh’s legends, Johnny Joestar, who’s blood continued to spread drops in the city until Kei Kira stood on its soil today. As told by folktale, Johnny Joestar had died to save his wife from much the same symptoms which ailed her mother in the present day.

“Kei…” Yoshikage had built a wall around his sister’s care, and had not drilled in a single small hole from which he allowed words of genuine probing to leak out. “What is the Higashikata Family really like?”

This was a surprising turn. Yoshikage had initially supported her plan, however his enthusiasm for her infiltration of 3121 Hill faded quickly, and for the past several months he had regarded her as an idiot and a child who sought petty revenge.

“Their wives all die… Toyoko and Tomoko, they both gave themselves to the land to save their sons from the Curse.”

“And Caato?”

Kei nodded.

“It’s in the earth there, beneath their house and around the roots of their fruit trees. Underneath the Twin Pine Trees, but to use it they have to give someone up.” Kei started chewing at her fingernails.

“The land around the roots of their fruit trees…”

Yoshikage figured out where to put it.

“Kei, go to the store and buy some more milk,” he sealed the hole in his wall back up as he left with no regards. “You should make mom breakfast tomorrow.”

October 14, 2009

Norisuke Higashikata climbed the steps to the enclosed space that was presently the second story of his ancestral family home, 3121 Hill. Night had arisen, and he was glad to scuttle into his bedroom, journeying into some uninterrupted rest after he had spent the day securing the right of his company and his children to each do the same.

He fell into sleep with a remote clutched in his hand. The device controlled either side of the mattress to optimize the individual sleeping position of its occupants; The other side’s settings had remained untouched for thirteen years.

He awoke against his natural flow. It was not the early morning, but an unknowable time in a pitch black night. The great machine he had built his life into had a spike shoved into its gears, a rattling caused by something vibrating against fine carved wood which was attacking him from his adjacent home office. He reached out to his night stand, and found his own phones - both work and personal - sitting safely thereabouts.

He began a series of weary steps out of bed into his office, pushing through the muted ringing air wave until he quickly walked inside.

Even before he had a chance to go for the light switch, the room had a slight illumination coming from his computer monitor, which had been switched off previously. Norisuke’s mind started to move from sleepy confusion into a readiness to fight or flight. His computer should be shut down at night, and yet it was up and unlocked, suggesting somebody had entered and searched through his desk to uncover the sticky note he foolishly kept the password penned down on.

The ringing had been coming from a generic burner phone left on the desk, the only other thing Norisuke could detect as being out of place.

The phone continued ringing.

The computer had been opened to its basic notes program, displaying two messages written in a bold font.

“DO NOT EMPLOY THE USE OF YOUR STAND.”

The phone continued ringing.

“ANSWER THE PHONE, NORISUKE HIGASHIKATA.”

The phone ceased ringing, a shocked Norisuke’s arms working without his mind to flip it open and answer, hoping to hear Joshu and Daiya’s annoying voices pranking him from the other end.

“I know about the Rock Syndrome.”

The voice on the other end spoke in a whisper, a whisper which seemed to echo such that Norisuke would almost swear the very same words were being spoken into the other end from the same room he stood in, the caller: the shadows.

“I can not reveal myself to you, Norisuke, but my name is Yoshikage Kira. I am a doctor, and the only child of Holy Joestar.”

“Joestar?” Norisuke’s legs nearly wobbled as the stuns kept coming and he fumbled for a line of comprehension.

“Yes, Holy Joestar. Find her in the family registry, daughter of Joseph and sister of Barbara Ann, and a living descendant of Rina Higashikata. She suffers the same fate as you.”

“And what fate might that be?”

“Your family’s ‘curse’, Sir Norisuke. Do not feign ignorance to me, for I can testify that my mother is under attack from the same illness you suffered as a child, as did your father before you and your eldest son after you.”

“You...” Norisuke scowled. “How dare you come into my home and then start barking about my family’s business!”

“I implore you not to hang up,” Yoshikage Kira replied, unfettered. “I have a cure.”

“You… what? How are you watching me?”

“‘Watching you?’ Do you think this is some crummy urban legend? Does it not torture you everyday, sitting as the king of nothing? As the single family in this town who can have more than anyone else, yet will time and time lose that which money can not replace? Help me and I will help you.”

“Let me tell you now, ‘Yoshikage Kira’, if you are playing me for a fool, I will swear on my family’s honor that I will see you fall,” he began crying, his emotional voice betraying his threat. “But if you speak the truth, I will beg of you to share with my family, and I will do whatever you ask. So please, tell me what ‘cure’ you have!”

“That… I can not do.”

“Bastard! What’s your game?!”

“The ‘thing’ in my possession, it’s a dangerous item, and there are certainly enemies who would come back for it. It is for the safety of us both that I’d rather not talk about it, but I will tell you I think it’s in an area you’re familiar with. To give it to you, I need your land. The fruit farm behind your house, the trees overlooking the cliffs. The place with the power of equivalent exchange.”

“The land? How do you know about it?”

“I don’t like answering questions. My terms are as given.”

Norisuke held himself against his desk, his head left unembraced only because his other hand clutched the phone.

“The place you’ll want are the ‘Twin Pine’ trees. There used to be a shrine there with a very narrow cave underneath it, but when my house was renovated I had it paved over. However the tunnel down is still accessible, and inside of it is a..." Norisuke hesitated for a second, hung up on his own bad memories, "a structure built for temporary living, hundreds of years ago. I could provide this place to you as a lab.”

“That’ll be plenty fine. Please provide me with botanical equipment and living quarters inside. I will return for it in two months.”

“Botanical? Are you growing a plant?”

 “Two months. I never called you.”

Yoshikage Kira stood outside the Higashikata home, hoping old man Norisuke wouldn’t die of fright when his burner phone would live up to its name and be annihilated by a small but effective explosion bubble which had been hidden in the circuitry.

Unknown to him, he was being watched by the eyes of a restless child, her cherry red chair curtaining her face in-line with the drapes of her bedroom window.

December 14, 2009

The two months had nearly gone by, and Yoshikage was somewhat surprised by the ease with which Norisuke Higashikata had gone along with his submitted plan. He had been right not to underestimate his emotional vulnerability.

For a while the lab’s progress was observed by Kei, whom Yoshikage had put up to it without revealing what she was watching the bunker for. Kei was most certainly powerful, but equal parts brash and spiteful, and it was an easier process for everyone if she was kept away from the Locacaca. A more sentimental man may have confessed a desire to see their younger sister kept out of danger as well, but Yoshikage would never admit to such.

At around the 40th day, Yoshikage made an early advent to his lab, spying on the situation below. It was coming along swell, with a bunch of funky looking science equipment appearing in between stashes of the Higashikata Famiy’s junk. Yoshikage had little idea of what most of it actually was , but felt assured that Josefumi would make heads or tails of it when it came time to plant. Feeling sly, he left in some of his own trinkets, statuettes of TV robots, and a set of Isamu Otoishi-made clothing. He went as far as to invite Kei to witness the sight of his living quarters, taunting her about their respective roles above and below Norisuke.

Little did he know that during this time, there had been a third visitor to this space. The family grandchild, Tsurugi, had been eyeing the bunker herself, and would watch the going-ons around it from afar, envious of her lack of ability to go in without being noticed.

It was now the final day: Whilst snow had taken its pleasure in coating the ground, Josefumi’s Locacaca had been grafted in secret to a tree in the orchard, the coordinates recorded by the two of them and sworn to secrecy, and now that night Yoshikage would meet their benefactor inside of the lab.

Night was approaching, the Higashikata Family ‘ought to be soon asleep and the patriarch would appear to Yoshikage. Josefumi had told him that - pending the further analysis the backing of Norisuke’s wealth and expertise could supply - he estimated the grafted Locacaca would take about two years to bear fruit.

Yoshikage saw something moving in the shadows, creeping behind tall trees. It stood 15.72 meters away, and was quickly encroaching.

This was hardly the aged, fatherly physique of Norisuke. Walking before Yoshikage was a suited younger man, about the same as him in looks but 20 years his junior in spirit. The air around him felt charged, and he wore popping red eyeliner like it was the blood of his fallen enemies used as war paint. His blond hair, though cut short and wavy, signified him as Norisuke’s son, and the gray lines scarring down his face signified him as a survivor of the Rock Syndrome. While at least vaguely aware of the family’s appearances, Yoshikage felt a recent familiarity towards him even beyond that. 

“H-hello,” Yoshikage had been overcome by chills, an exceptionally rare occurrence. The man’s coattails ceased swaying in the wind as he took high ground on top of a small mound in the grass, gripping his left hand around a tree limb which ran overhead.

“When I was a kid, I remember playing hide-n-seek with all the kids in the neighborhood. There had to have been about 20 of us, all hiding while this snooty kid named Yumihiko was the seeker. He went around like a foxhound, sniffing out almost every last kid from their hiding spot. They were all huddled under rose bushes or stretched behind telephone poles, but me?” he chuckled. “I had climbed all the way to the top of a big spruce tree. It was the absolute perfect hiding spot! I had a vantage point for the entire playing field, and there was no way Yumihiko would ever spot me even if I kept moving around! I remember being certain that I was the last hider standing, and that soon Yumihiko would be calling out a forfeit from below, and I’d get to laugh right in his face about my genius hiding spot! But then, a big storm cloud appeared. A swirling mess of dark gray waiting to spew out lightning and raindrops to ruin it all. The others could probably keep playing in the rain, but I was too high up in the tree; It’d be dangerous.” A wisp of smoke started to plume out of the branch from beneath his grip, red hot specs igniting underneath the outer bark. “And the funny part is, I don’t even remember if I really had to go down before I won or not. In my mind, the story ends with me staring down that storm cloud and wishing I could punch straight through it.”

“I think you misunderstand,” Yoshikage approached, attempting to diffuse a dynamic he understood to be ready to blow. “I’m here to meet your father, actually.”

“Oh ho ho, I understand everything pretty well, I think. My sweet daughter, she has trouble sleeping and reports to me in the morning of someone sneaking around the house, talking to grandpa and hanging outside the windows. My old man has been sending men down to that underground chamber there too, right? They’re building a lab, a lab for cultivating fruit. A surprise renovation for the Company? Maybe. Maybe. But now you’re here again, and I gotta go with my gut.” With a great snap , the branch clasped in Jobin’s hand broke off and erupted into a ball of flames which matched the color of the sunset, before imploding in a cloud of thick black haze. “You’ve gone climbing up the same tree I did.”

Jobin Higashikata descended down to Yoshikage’s level, the chills in the latter’s back replaced by sweat drops from the heated air.

They locked eyes. Jobin’s had fire inside of them.

“SPEYAH!”

“ORA!”

A streak of orange flew out from Jobin’s body, heading straight for Yoshikage before his own cool blue aura blocked it, the collision booming like a firework sending sparks raining down from around them, melting the snow where they landed.

“A Stand user!? ” Jobin screamed internally, the rage boiling over from his heart and into his Stand’s fists.

“Killer Queen!” Yoshikage’s Stand stood in front of him, arms crossed and glaring with the gaze of an iron wall.

Jobin smirked.

“MERAYARAYARAYARAYA!”

Jobin’s Stand began to take pot shots against Killer Queen’s guarded wrists, each small strike igniting like a cutter’s torch and giving Yoshikage flashbang.

Ten seconds straight of this past, before the Stand’s left fist reared back and popped back out upwards towards the thinly stretched skin across Killer Queen’s skeletal face.

“Ignite.”

It punched with immense force, sending Yoshikage flying backwards, his spine only saved from being shattered by the blanket of snow which accumulated where he had landed, the crest of a hill just about where it began to slope. His hat remained at Jobin’s feet, knocked off, and his pale skin became stained by crimson blood which was flowing freely out of his nose.

“Speed King.”

Jobin Higashikata’s Stand now stood next to him in full view, a terrifying mummified figure consumed by machinery which would have scarcely been out of place in an apocalyptic landscape.

Jobin walked forward. Speed King’s right hand remained engulfed in flame, ready to beat down on the fallen Kira.

“Killer Queen! Detonate!”

Just as it went to strike down at him, the ground beneath him blew apart, the hill hollowing out as chunks of dirt and snow were joined in being thrown from their place on the ground by Yoshikage himself, who inelegantly tumbled to safety as Jobin’s strike landed in what was now a hole where he lay only seconds ago, a ring of fire pulsing out from the impact point.

A bubble started spinning out from Yoshikage’s finger, and it launched up the hill towards Jobin like a homing missile. Speed King attempted to knock it out of the way, but the immense heat stored in its hands only made the bubble shatter and explode on the spot, the damage being sent to Jobin’s hand and almost making him cry from the pain.

Speed King disappeared as he clutched his injured fingers, looking back down at Yoshikage. 

“If you aren’t permanently out of my sight in sixty seconds, I will kill you. And if not me, then the others will.”

“Others?” Yoshikage’s mind raced. “ Other family members? Or… ”

Shipping manifests.

Aisho Dainenjiyama and his plant, ordered into the country for the Higashikata Fruits Company.

Kei was right, and Yoshikage suddenly realized where he had seen Jobin Higashikata recently.

“The son of a bitch… he’s Dainenjiyama’s cohort! Even if the rest of the Higashikata Family are innocent… This guy realized I had a Locacaca and thinks I’m trying to intrude on that gang’s territory! ”

“It’s hard to hear anything that goes on out here from the house, but all those explosions might’ve done the trick. If you go towards my family, I’ll execute you anyway. Walk back through the woods and never come back.”

Yoshikage stood resolved. “And why should I? I’ve hurt you worse than you’ve hurt me.”

Jobin spat on the ground. “Fool me once, after all, and I’ve still got one good hand. One good hand I could kill you myself with, or one good hand I could use to make a call which will ensure  you never make it back to your bed. If you have anything you dream of, I suggest you leave while I let you.”

October 15, 2009.

By morning, the Higashikata Family had many unanswered questions. Hato wondered what the banging, like fireworks, that had woken her up last night was. Mitsuba wondered why her husband grimaced when she placed her hand on his. Tsurugi wondered who had made footsteps in their backyard, and what had displaced so much snow and dirt around her playing grounds. Daiya wondered why her dad seemed like he couldn’t bring himself to be seen, and had holed himself up in his office. Joshu wondered where and why his brother had acquired an emerald green sailing cap, which he admired like a trophy. 

Norisuke sat with his hair crumpled in his hands and tear ducts swelling in his eyes, wondering why - after two months of promised alleviation - the savior Yoshikage Kira had abandoned him.

Chapter Text

March 11, 2011

It had been over a year since the Locacaca was planted in the Higashikata Orchard. Holy had been omitted to the University Hospital as an in-patient, and for reasons only vaguely known to Josefumi, the deal with the Higashikata Family had fallen through, and he was forced to be more-or-less eyeballing the tree’s progress. Thankfully, it seemed to be developing fine, and he realized it could be baring ripe fruit in as soon as six months.

Today, he thought it was all going to be meaningless. He stood with Karera clutching him tight, as everybody in their class had been convinced they would soon die after the ground began shaking with more ferocity than any of them had ever thought to comprehend. Inside a first story room, they were relatively safe, albeit trapped inside the room. However with earthquakes of this size would no doubt come waves, waves which any minute were due to burst through the windows and drown them all.

They never came. In their stead were a series of photos from Yoshikage.

Josefumi couldn’t believe what they showed until the class was freed hours later, and he saw for himself.

Yasuho Hirose had been invited over to dinner with the Higashikata Family. Jobin had been in the middle of hogging the limelight with a story of some great exploit he had on vacation, when the shaking began.

Hato stood up so fast she nearly tripped over herself, first scooping up Daiya and handing her off to their father before linking her arms with Joshu and Yasuho and dragging them under the table with her. Jobin tended to his branch of the family, while the housekeeper Nijimura sought shelter in solitude under a chair.

When the quake stopped, Norisuke stood up first, leading his family as they progressively looked outside in awe of the world around them. At what had appeared on their land. As if angels had landed before them, they were all too stunned to speak.

On 11 March 2011, at 14:46 JST, a Mw 9.0-9.1 undersea megathrust earthquake occurred in the Pacific Ocean, 72 kilometers east of the Oshika Peninsula of the Tohoku Region. It lasted for six minutes, creating a catastrophic tsunami. Inside Morioh, during these six minutes, rose the Wall Eyes, ringing around the city and shielding them from the floods, saving thousands of lives.

Many Wall Eyes emerged from the Higashikata Family’s property. On top one of them stood a once ordinary tree, which now bore the fruit of Josefumi’s Locacaca, reaching towards the stars in the sky.

August 19, 2011

“I’ll call you later mom.”

She ignored his disgruntled tone. “Alright hon; Take some pictures of the dock on your friend’s boat.”

Yoshikage Kira had made a habit of Josefumi Kujo out to his boat - affectionately named Hot Space - as an isolated place to discuss it. The thing they had come to understand was not something to be spoken of by them. Nothing had actually happened - as far as Josefumi knew - but the two were haunted by the ghost of a threat. After some sneaking around on the Higashikata’s ground, Josefumi would be invited out on Hot Space once every dozen weeks or so, to put on a puffy orange life jacket because he was afraid of the water and tell Yoshikage about how it was doing fine, then awkwardly dribble about some other things while wishing Yoshikage would tell him a single fun detail about his life.

On this day, there was a new point of conversation.

“Josefumi, it’s that girl again…” Yoshikage stood with one leg raised on the bow of the Hot Space, staring back out at the peer through a pair of binoculars. “She was following us around when I stopped by my tailor, remember? I think she took a photo with us too.”

Josefumi craned his neck around to halfheartedly glance at the sashaying bobble of curls who was camping out on the dock.

“Oh yeah, her name’s uh,” Josefumi gave a forced stutter. “‘Ka-’ something, Kate?”

“Karera Sakunami,” Yoshikage said back sternly. “Haven’t you two gone out? She always tries to follow you around.”

Josefumi should’ve known his elder would see right through his cover up. Karera Sakunami was his only friend, only confidant, and only kiss, and he wasn’t keen to admit that.

Josefumi hadn’t anything to say.

“She’s a Stand user as well,” Yoshikage began monologuing in place while Karera squatted down, waved, and bit into a pork bun. “Her Stand’s got a glowing green lithe in its torso, and it thwip thwip thwips strands of hair out of it.” he rested the binoculars against his chest. “Her, and you, and my mom and sister, plus myself, even people like Isamu Otoishi and Ojiro Sasame, and I’m sure the entire Higashikata Family. They’re all Stand users and all in this city where the Wall Eyes appeared. There’s something strange about this place, isn’t there?”

The way he held himself pulled down his shirt just enough to let his star shaped birthmark be kissed by the ocean breeze.

“Not to mention,” Josefumi chewed his cheek on his words, “Those guys.”

“Yes, those guys too; They’re inhuman but they’re almost certainly Stand users too. It’ll be dangerous for us even when it gets finished. Actually, how far away is it?”

“We should be able to get two within the week, maybe even today if I was being generous.” 

Yoshikage smirked.

“That girl is… she’s just a stalker.” Josefumi wasn’t sure why he was saying this, given that neither people on the boat believed what he was saying. “Do you really think her coming near us means something?”

Yoshikage stared at his shoulder.

“Yes. I’d say we’re here because of flying fish in the sea causing a ruckus, but why were the flying fish there in the same place as me to begin with?” His gaze lifted to Josefumi’s eyes. “We’ve been around here for too long, probably. I know you said you could be generous, but we’re waiting a week - no, 10 days - to go by it again.”

Yoshikage moved from his spot at about the same time Karera wobbled away from hers.

“Damn it, Josefumi.” Josefumi winced at the sudden scorning. “I told you to make sure we were tied to anchor #2! Now the mooring rope fell in the water.”

Josefumi scrambled to pull up the mooring rope - which Yoshikage had taught him was a rope used to secure a boat in place to withstand being moved by swells and winds. “I was sure I tied this!”

It had fingerprints on it, all down the braid of rope. Big, swirling, gooey fingerprints.

A squawking bird came down to join them, and tried to perch itself on one of Hot Space’s booms, but fell off.

No, it fell through. Its tiny feet had passed entirely through the metal, plunging it into the sea.

One of its friends briefly swooped to the scene, before taking off again.

Seconds later, the bird was splattered on the deck. There was no impact, no blood and gore, it had simply dripped apart like a bowl of forgotten hard serve.

Yoshikage’s eyes dilated in as he bore witness to the ghastly, ethereal hands which were crowding the surface of his boat, their tips adorned with the same prints Josefumi found on the rope.

The cabin door creaked open.

The Devil appeared waiting behind the door, while Mammon sat beside him.

He was a fat, balding-blonde bearded man in an outdatedly stylish jacket whose fingers rested on his baby blue aviator sunglasses. His presence was a miasma, his eyes filled all in their sight with a fog of dread.

His companion was of opposite proportions, and their gender indeterminable. They bit their thumb in anticipation, displacing their straight and long magenta locks.

“Gentlemen, a pleasure to meet you,” the large one spoke, his booming voice festered a new layer of superficial charm to his unreal occupancy.

“WREYYYYYAH!!!!”

Killer Queen had rushed into the cabin and began throwing punches at the uninvited guests. However every impact was captured by a slimy palm sprouting up from the ground. Underneath Killer Queen’s feet was a citrus hued hood from which the hands emerged like serpents popping in and out of their den. In an instant, Killer Queen popped like a water balloon, its spectral form painting the cabin floor while Josefumi winced at the sight of Yoshikage’s legs doing the same across the deck.

“He’s quite a hasty one,” the spindly one said smarmily. “It’s a shame about the black tailed doves though.”

“Your boat is currently infested with my ‘Vitamin C’, which has a tendency to make people terribly soft,” the large one explained. “I suggest you sit down, Mr.Kujo, and lend me a listening ear.”

Josefumi complied.

“My name is Tamaki Damo, and this here is my associate Yotsuyu Yagiyama. It seems you two were unwilling to acknowledge the subject between yourselves earlier, so allow me to bring in the elephant to this room: We deal in the Locacaca fruit. This fruit is something known about more or less exclusively by us - our kin, us ‘inhumans’ as you so charitably described, yes - and if somebody wanted to grow their own or perform a scientific analysis on it, it’d spell all sorts of trouble. Due to this we strive to be very cautious people. One of those cautions we account for is theft; We weigh constantly. When our dealer, our dear Aisho, leaves us, and before and after he sells, and when he comes back, we always make sure the weight of his payload is consistent , you see.” He turned to his accompaniment. “Yotsuyu, could you remind me of when our troubles began?”

“Two years, one hundred forty weeks, five days, three hours, and twenty four minutes.”

“Yes thank you,” he resumed. “All that time ago, there was an odd occurrence. We weighed it when Aisho came back, and it was different than from when he had weighed it after the customer that day took his fruit. This would normally be a great cause for alarm, but the weight wasn’t less. No no, it got heavier. Heavier by nine grams. We were all very confused, but figured there must have been some fluke miscalculation in the water in the soil or some such, and came to ignore it,” his words had tempered off as he spoke, before he boomed them back up at the start of his next sentence. “That is until late last year, when that same plant wilted! The damn thing wilted! And that’s when we figured it out! I’m awed by the ingenuity!” His eyes grew wide like dinner saucers, as he stared down at the two of them with a grin wider than his gut. “I would like to know whose idea it was. Was it you, Doctor Yoshikage Kira, the more educated of the two? Or was it you, my dear boy Josefumi, who has a background in the study of grafting? Because one of you two is the greatest Goddamn genius I have ever encountered in my many years!”

Tamaki Damo licked around the circumference of his gaping mouth. “I was so impressed by this plan, this little branch switcheroo, that I just couldn’t resist the temptation to meet the mastermind behind the game. But alas, by then there was no remaining security footage or way to track witnesses. I was quite distraught, until I remembered a peculiar encounter a dear friend of mine told me about a little bit after when the branch would’ve been stolen. He spoke of a man who intruded on his family, whom he fought in his garden. And from this fight he took a souvenir, an emerald green sailing cap. So I spent four months investigating the naval community of Morioh, until I found Yoshikage Kira, PhD. A man with a strong preference for the colour green, who’s mother has an incurable illness, and who was stationed on the very boat our beloved Aisho smuggled himself in on during one of our historic gambits.” He inhaled and sat up, leaning in towards the dissolving Yoshikage. “I think I have a pretty compelling case, don’t you?”

Damo rose from the cabin and began marching towards his hostages; along the way he discarded his jacket like a lizard sloughing its skin, leaving him a more comfortable but particularly garish tank top in blue-and-white stripes.

“We’ve arrived with two objectives,” Damo grinned.

“It’s advisable to avoid lying,” Yotsuyu spoke, still in the shadow of the cabin.

Damo observed Josefumi with a wheezy chuckling. Josefumi’s legs instinctively tried to carry him backwards over the hull. He was like a field mouse scurrying away from the claws of a hawk, but Damo’s Stand popped up out of his shoulders like it were a jack-in-the-box, and Josefumi’s knees bubbled apart, leaving him too stranded, spread across the deck.

While Josefumi’s body mixed together between his groin and legs, Yoshikage had lost all semblance of humanity below his waist and was trying to slug towards the booms. Damo retrieved a 1000 yen bill from his pants pocket and folded up, sliding his fingers along the cloth paper until it was perfectly compressed.

He slid it across the soup of Yoshikage’s lower body, blood sprouting up like a water fountain before falling back down and congealing into the concoction. Damo stepped back a moment to be handed a napkin by Yotsuyu, then returned to reach his hand in a section of Yoshikage where his blood was being soaked up by melted down fabric. He yanked front he puddle a melting cell phone, which Vitamin C stared intently at as it reverted to perfect, solidified condition.

He passed off Yoshikage’s phone to Yotsuyu, whose expression remained blank as they had crept out from the cabin. Damo turned his attention to Josefumi and knelt down before him. Josefumi silently understood to reach into his pocket, just above the area of Vitamin C’s effect on him, and surrendered his cellular to Damo.

Damo began feverishly going through the phone’s content, holding it up in all sorts of enthusiastic angles that made the sunlight spark across the back, where Karera had bedazzled Josefumi’s name on.

His smile flipped to a frown.

“So… You’ve been careful to not have traces of your plans on your phones, huh? Is that right, Josefumi?”

“There’s nothing of worth on Kira’s either,.” Yotsuyu reported, cattily adding “Except for lewd photos of some douche with a fake tan.”

“Many people would call that being cautious. I, on the other hand,” Damo’s calmness ceased, and he began spitting out between his teeth, “would call it being fucking conceded and arrogant! You shitty brat!”

Damo tossed Josefumi’s phone at his head. It snapped in half from the impact, the keypad landing in Josefumi’s leg puddle and the screen falling into the ocean, but not before carving in the corner of his mouth.

Damo swept his hair back while Josefumi’s torso began to deflate.

“Forgive me for my flying off the candle.”

“Handle,” Yotsuyu spoke up, initializing a set of “ hmm ” eyebrows from his superior. “The expression is ‘flew off the handle .”

“Quite right, but listen up, you two! We’re dealing with a cast of three characters here. Holy Kira: She’s led quite an interesting life, but the important part for us is that she’s quite probably going to die soon. The goal, I’m certain, is to get her to eat the fruit, but she’s yet to, so we can disregard her for now. That leaves you two: Yoshikage Kira, and Josefumi Kujo. Now, to add some spice and intrigue, I’m going to let it be known that I am killing one of you. Only the one, and the other will be forgiven and allowed to walk away at the end. We’ve figured out that you’ve grafted the Locacaca branch onto a new tree, so the first one to spill where specifically you put them will be acquitted, even of the thievery and the sheer arrogance; I take responsibility for my failings in allowing our operation to be discovered, so the one who talks will be allowed to run away and forget all about this. Those are my two goals: Obtain the location of the stolen branch from one of you so we can recover it, and kill the other one as compensation.”

Karera Sakunami was pacing around the docks, answering an annoying phone call from a guy who owed her money for a share of pot, waiting for it to be over so she could get back to hanging with Josefumi and his…  brother-uncle-mentor-boss, dude? She never quite figured out who that guy was, anyway.

She decided to just hang up and take a mental trip somewhere else, when her eyes were caught on something strange in the water. There was a big, perfectly shaped bubble drifting towards her end of the marina. Inside it were glints of shining color which she recognized the configuration of.

“Huh? How the hell did Josefumi break his phone in half like that? ” She tossed her jacket off and tied up her hair to jump in the water and paddle over to retrieve it, feeling pretty lucky not only that it had somehow made its way to her area but that she could use it as an excuse to get on the boat with them.

“Josefumi… He’s a Stand user too, and so is that Yoshikage Kira guy, I bet. I think we’re all supposed to be together right now. That’s gotta be right .”

Karera reached into the odd bubble - which vanished more than it popped - and held up the broken half of cellphone, trying to examine how it came to be in this state. The bottom of it, where it would’ve been severed, seemed almost melted.

As she swam back to the dock and retrieved her vest to store the jewel crested screen in, she could’ve sworn she felt something crawling up her arm, but she was too focused on the everything-else to care.

Tamaki Damo stood over Josefumi with the same creased up 1000 yen bill he had used to slit Yoshikage. He pressed it firmly against Josefumi’s temple, the skin of which had become the texture of Play-Doh. His view of Yoshikage laying helpless became refracted as his eyes filled with tears when Damo began pushing the bill straight through the fleshy layer surrounding his skull, threatening to chip a hole straight through and into his brain.

“Josefumi, my boy, I wanna tell you a secret,” he whispered with sickening tenderness. “You’re the one I’d rather spare. Holy isn’t even your mum, there’s no reason for you to give up your life over this. Do you think anybody would die to save you?”

Water filled the boy's lungs and his eyes. “Mama! Mama help!”

The boy stood in wait for his father after school, who was again too busy to visit.

The boy stood alone in a college dorm, staring blankly at a Pulp Fiction poster while everyone he knew, knew of more like, went out drinking.

“I can’t take it anymore. All I ever get is being abandoned. Nobody ever pays attention to me, I work so hard to please people and nothing ever changes. I just get left behind, and if that’s what’s gonna happen, it doesn’t matter if I’m the one who abandons first. ”

The words swirled in his head.

“Josefumi!”

“Sorry I couldn’t make it, Josefumi. ”

“We’ll invite you next time, Josefumi.”

“Josefumi!”

The last one was real.

“Since your Stand can pop things together, you better try your best to stitch me up once we’re out of here! These cuts are pretty nasty.”

Damo and Yotsuyu stared at him with confusion, while Yoshikage’s face answered with steel cold rage and resolve.

“Our comrades are coming any minute now! You have to be ready to move your body as soon as you’re able!”

“Comrades?” Damo’s infliction was split between freezing competence and seething anger, as was his face. “Yotsuyu, tell him he’s full of shit.”

Yotsuyu sneered, “You’re full of shit. We’ve been watching you, you’re only a two man team!”

Yoshikage laughed, blood pooling in his mouth while he did. “You guys are fucking idiots. It took you, what, eighteen months to notice one of your plants got screwed with? ‘We thought it was a water retention error,’” he mocked. “You were able to find me - after four months - because of a fluke with some yuppie prick, and after all that effort you still don’t even know where we put the damn branch! And you have the audacity to claim to us, two geniuses in our fields, that you know whether or not we have allies? That you’d be able to foresee my plan? What a sick joke! Once we’re out of here, I’m gonna come back to kill both of you! I’ll kill Aisho Dainenjiyama, and anyone else in your little gang! And hell if I care about the branch now, I’m gonna take every last plant you have stockpiled away, assholes!”

Damo's face was fiery red, and he stormed up to Yoshikage. Josefumi was sure he was about to kill him, when the burning scarlet turned to ghost white. Damo looked like he was about to die of shock, as his eyes and then his body turned back to the docks.

Yoshikage Kira was right. Somebody had come for them.

A young girl was stalking them, bouncing her deep red curly hair over to them in a mediocre attempt at a fashion model’s hip sway.

“Karera ?” Josefumi’s physical shock was turning into mental shock. “Why is she back here? She’s…”

Karera was excitedly waving at them, showcasing something grasped in her hand.

“She’s carrying my phone? No, it got dumped in the sea. How did she-”

Her face went from excitedly smiling to bugged out and concerned when she got close enough to see the scene on the boat.

“Hello Rockview!”

Yotsuyu’s own Stand, a nasty goblin looking thing in a helmet, leaped out with a mechanical breathing noise and pounced on Karera, slamming her face to the ground; She started crying immediately.

Damo looked at her incredulously.

“Yoshikage Kira, care to explain the meaning of this? Is this your ally? Your great comrade, this sniveling skank?”

Someone answered for Yoshikage.

“H e y, l o o k o v e r h e r e!”

Damo started shaking, Yotsuyu jumped back in shock, freeing Karera from their Stand, albeit she was too scared to move anyway.

“What the fuck! There really is someone else here!” Yotsuyu shouted, trying to scout their eyes around the dock frantically.

“H e y, l o o k o v e r h e r e!”

“What’s going on! Show yourself!” Damo barked, before his eyes widened at the sight of Karera’s mane shifting around.

“Killer Queen -” Yoshikage called out with flat arrogance.

From between her curls, a small skull treaded its way out, melted on a miniature tank’s  armor.

“Sheer Heart Attack.”

Damo screamed as blue light eclipsed his vision.

“H e y, l o o k o v e r h e r e!”

Sheer Heart Attack’s laser beam cut straight through Hot Space. Yotsuyu jumped overboard, while Damo dove to recover his jacket as the ship started splitting apart into flaming pieces, and got blown straight back onto the dock, which was being ripped up along the edge by the shockwave. He stood up and clutched his forehead, which was bleeding from the lens in his glasses being shattered and sent stabbing into his face. He yelled, pure rage erupting from his throat. Karera kicked off her sandal-heels while he was still stunned and sprinted away.

Yoshikage and Josefumi were underwater before they were fully freed from Vitamin C’s power, nearly consumed in the embers of the destroyed ship. While the shape of their bodies were restored, the slash across Yoshikage’s torso made by a small bill remained.

The two swam out of sight, while the water pooled with Yoshikage Kira’s blood.

The sun gave Mitsuba Higashikata’s red hair the same shine as the top-of-the-line apples her father in-law had set as the centerpiece of an impromptu garden picnic with her, and her husband, and her dear daughter Tsurugi, who’s own cherry hair was much shorter but caught the light in the same way.

It was a lovely occasion that brought to the forefront of Mitsuba’s mind the joys of her family; Before she met Jobin, she couldn’t recall even considering the idea of there being top-of-the-line apples.

The sound of an explosion from somewhere down the coast rang out, echoing between the Wall Eyes and washing over them like a wave.

“I wonder who’s setting off fireworks right now,” Tsurugi pondered.

There would be more fireworks later.

Jobin sprang up with a ringing of his phone.

“It’s Yotsu,” He announced as he took a small leave to talk. 

Mitsuba blushed, “Be sure to tell them I said hi,” Yotsuyu Yagiyama was Jobin’s roommate in college, and the person who introduced them, although the details were a little embarrassing.

Josefumi and Yoshikage landed on the shore upstream, to the north, miraculously close to the Higashikata’s property. Josefumi had no idea how long they had swam, he had no idea how long they had walked. He knew only the weight of Yoshikage being carried on his shoulder. He hadn’t talked since the explosion, but still breathed and bled. 

“I’m sorry, Yoshikage,” he spoke out loud, choosing to think he could be heard. “I can’t use my bubbles to put you back together. I never studied the human body like you did, I wasted all my time on stupid plants.”

Josefumi knew only that needed to get to the fruit.

“I’m sorry that on the boat, I was about to rat you out and run away. I was cornered in the same way you were, hell I wasn’t even hurt, but I still couldn’t be brave and stoic like you. I couldn’t come up with a master plan to save us. I was completely worthless. Come on, the least I can do is get you to the Locacaca tree. We should be able to save you from bleeding out with one of those; Even if it messes you up, we can just keep growing new ones to fix you later.”

His eyes did not register the lush grass and tall trees around him as anything other than a maze he needed to navigate. A series of guiding marks to follow while he avoided walking off the edge of the coastal cliffs and Wall Eyes. So unflinching in his mindset was he, so much his care for anything else lowered with each breath he struggled to take, that he nearly failed to register when a crack came through the air and a gleam of steel impaled the dirt next to him.

His eyes wobbled in their sockets as he sunk back into the wider reality around him and processed what was just sent flying at him.

A hunting knife.

Josefumi shifted all of Yoshikage’s weight onto his left arm and tried to scoop up the knife with his right.

With no other warning, a wildcat leapt out of the bushes to pounce on its prey. Josefumi was sucker punched in the side of his jaw. Yoshikage stiffly fell to his side and his weight on Josefumi’s shoulder was substituted by an arm tightly grasping around his neck. This didn’t make much of a difference to Josefumi’s already staggered breathing, he merely tried in vain to kick himself free of the hunter’s grasp.

In the direction the knife had come from, a buff, tan skinned man blankly in a deep blue sports uniform strolled forward, kicking a soccer ball in pace with his steps and speaking into a cheap cell phone.

“Found them,” he said, stone face contrasted by a sing-song voice accented by somewhere south of the United States. He volleyed his ball forward until it was stopped by the foot of Josefumi’s attacker, who he could see was wearing a brick red version of the other’s clothes.

The attacker slipped his arm away from Josefumi’s neck, but immediately replaced it with his other, which in lieu of a hand had a granite-colored stump which pierced through the golden rings on his sleeves. Out the corner of Josefumi’s eye, he could see the attacker stick his normal hand into the soccer ball - which had been slit opened on one end - while a noxious cloud began to spew out of the stone stump.

Josefumi yelled as his eyes watered and reddened, he could feel his throat tearing from the poisonous cloud of Schottkey Number 2.

Ajusco Phex’s right arm was weaker than his left, which gave Josefumi just enough literal wiggle room to send a squadron of bubbles pouring out the pores on his neck. They slid him out of Ajusco’s grasp and just slightly forward. He took a deep breath, a now extremely painful process, and blindly punched backward.

Ajusco stumbled only a second while Josefumi turned on his heel, looking his attacker in the eye now.

He jumped and he yelled. He didn’t just yell, he screamed. Josefumi Kujo screamed as he tackled the assassin down to the edge of a cliff, and began slamming punch after punch into his face. He screamed about how much his throat hurt, and how much it hurt to breathe. He screamed about the man who lay dying or already dead metres away. He screamed about his mom who was stupid enough to have a baby and then want to go back to partying. He screamed about his dad who skipped town before he could remember him. He screamed about how he had never loved anybody. He screamed about how he had nothing. He screamed about how he was nothing. He screamed and yelled and cried and tore into the assassin’s face over and over and over until his knuckles broke and he couldn’t feel the pain from the adrenaline.

As he reared back for one punch of the dozen he gave, he trembled. His body was giving out. He coughed and each hack felt like crawling through barbed wire. Blood and torn apart lung tissue floated up in his mouth and he spat it on Ajusco.

“Asqueroso hijo de puta,” he spat back in Josefumi’s face and pushed him off him. 

Josefumi rolled on the ground, his Stand’s floating out of him as he commanded the earth to move to his will. Sure enough, the edge where Ajusco stood - still ready to fight - crumpled apart and he was sent sliding down to the hilly surface below.

Josefumi stood up, ready to get shit done. The remaining Aguajito retrieved his knife and charged at Josefumi. Soft & Wet’s bubbles smacked against the knife’s handle, and when swung the blade snapped off from the force. The younger brother wasn’t prepared to lose his weapon, and before he switched to using his fist Josefumi cupped his hands around the back of his head and slammed his face into his knee, before he spun him around and shoved him off the cliff down to his brother.

Josefumi peered down over the edge and saw the twins recovering, joined by the weasel faced tweaker who had started this mess: Aisho Dainenjiyama, draped in a heavy coat. Aisho stared back up at Josefumi, and retrieved something from his jacket which the A.Phex Twins were a little too cocky to normally use: A handgun.

Thankfully Aisho was not a very good shot, as Josefumi dove back out of view while bullets soared behind him. Gunfire did not sound much like it did in movies, more like very close fireworks.

“Come on!” Josefumi wiped the blood off his sleeve and now dragged Yoshikage with him. “We’re almost there, they won’t be able to make it back to us in time.”

There were no more screams. There were no more punches. Even the seas and the winds seem to have ceased, not daring to intrude.

Josefumi Kujo finally clutched it in his hands: A juicy, spikey fig-like fruit. He plucked the Locacaca down and presented it to Yoshikage.

His offer had no reply.

He cradled Yoshikage’s head up like a baby, unsure of if he was still breathing, for he refused to bite.

“Soft & Wet.”

Josefumi crushed the fruit up in his hand, and a flurry of bubbles floated bits of skin and puddles of sap down Yoshikage’s throat.

“This is gonna heal you, Yoshikage. We really were lucky, it’s ripe enough already. There’s a second fruit here… Leave me behind and take it to heal your mom.”

Josefumi laid on his back, staring up at the sky blue abyss one more time.

“I’m sorry for everything, Karera. Mom…”

He didn’t have anyone else to apologize to.

He reached his hand up to the sky, and saw stiff streaks of gravel coat up his skin.

He rolled over to face Yoshikage. The wound across his chest was becoming completely sealed, while pebbles started trailing off the side of Josefumi’s head.

“This is…”

His leg turned to rock.

“This Locacaca isn’t making Yoshikage exchange one of his body parts. The exchange is coming from me. We made a New Locacaca. I made a New Locacaca.” He smiled, for his last moment got to be realizing he accomplished something.

“This is the right thing. I should’ve died on that beach to begin with. I owed it all to the Joestar Family, and now I can give it up for them too. Take me, and let Yoshikage live, and the world will be right.”

The last specs of stone to consume him crawled around his back, avoiding the red star emblazoned on the base of his neck like it was a plague.

“Saving Doctor Holy… That’s happiness for me. I got to live this long, and lead it up to this. This fruit, which heals the righteous and ills the wastes, that’s my contribution.”

On 19 August, 2011, the two Locacaca thieves succame to their fates: Yoshikage Kira was killed by Tamaki Damo, who stabbed him while he was under the effects of Damo’s Stand ability. Josefumi Kujo died because of the A.Phex Brothers, who assaulted him using their lethal gas attack.

Yoshikage’s body was healed by an exchange from Josefumi, but his spirit had already left Earth. Josefumi’s body deteriorated from the exchange and slumped over Yoshikage’s. The second “New Locacaca” fruit was left on its tree.

“Tsurugi? Come inside dear, it seems like daddy’s gonna be on the phone for a while.”

Tsurugi sat under a tree, prodding around dead cicadas with a stick.

“What are you doing with those dead bugs?” her grandfather questioned.

“The trees and bushes are shaking, they’re all falling out,” she explained.

“That’s because of an aftershock, dear,” Norisuke explained, gently coaxing Tsurugi away from the scene. “The faults are still moving, and the Wall Eyes will probably get higher again. Come on in, you don’t wanna be playing there.”

Tsurugi seemed disinterested in returning inside. Her mother came to her, and scooped her up against her chest.

“You’re getting so big dear, soon I don’t think I’ll even be able to hold you,” she cooed. Tsurugi still looked dower. 

“Are you worried about something?” Tears flowed freely out of Mitsuba’s eyes, knowing what “something” was. “You don’t have to, princess. Everybody’s on your side. Everything will be fine, just come inside with us.”

“3121 Hill is a house of lies.” Mitsuba wouldn’t dare let that sentence go any further than her mind, but it took great pleasure in staying there. She wished she would know what her husband was doing, and that her husband could know what she was doing, and that “Everything will be fine” was a true statement.

Aisho was almost ripping his nails clean off at the rate he was biting them, anxiously watching his comrades consume the Locacaca fruits he had brought with him and become healed of their injuries. He winced at the thought of them losing their eyes or their legs like he had seen many times before on human consumers, but they were all but entirely safe from the equivalent exchange’s wrath.

“This is bad, these tremors are leading up to an aftershock. There’s probably gonna be a God damn tsunami,” Yotsuyu’s glance settled on the sweating Aisho. “Aisho, get a hold of yourself! The city will be fine, because of the Wall Eyes, but we have to get off of the cliffs. It’s not safe to be hanging out here in these conditions.” Aisho fell into his embrace like a shaking dog, Yotsuyu reciprocating by gently stroking their fingers across Aisho's face.

Ajusco raised a concern. “Did anybody hear from Jobin?”

“Jobin’s fine, this is his family’s land to begin with. We can touch base with him once we get back to the Cleaners,” Yotsuyu said, while still shushing and cradling Aisho.

“And about those two.”

The four of them, trustful of their lives to Damo as they were, were terrified of him at the moment.

“They were for sure goners!” Aguajito reassured. “You really killed Kira, Mr.Damo, and that Josefumi guy was coughing up his lungs!”

“I’ll worry about getting them to cover for us later,” Yotsuyu tried to calm Damo down. “Shboom-Shboom can sniff out their bodies,” Yotsuyu spoke of the gray animal generously described as a dog which accompanied them, “and the coroner will handle their death certificates.”

“Death certificate. Singular,” Damo corrected.  Any words from Damo in this situation were as good as a gun pointed to the head.

“Hey Mr.Damo, are you saying you don’t think we did a good job?” Ajusco gave a “point” with his stump arm.

“Not in the slightest, boys, but…” his eyes were purely pits of hate. “‘Josefumi Kujo’... I quite like the ring of it. Maybe we could keep him alive, in our own way.”

"Tamaki?" Yotsuyu raised an eyebrow at him. "You're telling us that you want to-"

“Josefumi Kujo tainted my pride, so I see fit to taint his,” Damo cut off Yotsuyu to explain. “A promising university student flunks out, starts buying up cheap condos and sketchy gas stations, taking flights in and out of the country on a whim. There's plenty of things a spare name is useful for covering in our line of work. Yes, I will become him now; His life is mine for the taking.”

As the two’s star shaped birthmarks lay baking in the sun, someone mourned them. A someone long forgotten, lest in legend. The ground shook with grief, and swallowed them inside.

Underneath the earth, guarded by warm dirt haunted by memories of decades gone by, the perfect corpse of Yoshikage Kira was exchanged with the battered and damaged body of Josefumi Kujo. Deep inside Josefumi, a single spark of life remained as his eyes were half-replaced each, as was his tongue. As his legs and random patches of stony skin got switched out. As he gained and lost in equal measure.

Thus the hybrid was born.

As he breached the surface for a brief moment, he was met with Jobin, his future older brother by adoption, who looked at him in utter disbelief. Utter disbelief of all he had just witnessed.

There were two types of exchange known to him, and he had just witnessed them fuse.

In one hand was an emerald green sailor’s cap, folded inside out from Jobin’s fidgeting, and in the other a cell phone with Yotsuyu’s number dialed. This is where he would call back the gain to report him snuffing out the target’s life. But the boy he looked at was no longer a target.

Jobin shut the cell phone and smiled, watching the naked boy flail to keep himself above ground.

“If he’s strong, he’ll survive,” Jobin thought. He smiled, and tossed the hat on him.

A new man was born, and as quickly as he had been he was dragged back into the womb of the Wall Eyes by something which bit him, although the pressure quickly went away. He lay 178 centimeters tall, and weighed 82.2 kilograms. For three days he survived until again being birthed out onto the surface where he was found by local student Yasuho Hirose and brought to the Tohoku Gakuin University Hospital. Later that week, he was adopted by the Higashikata Family, and named Josuke.

Chapter Text

Norisuke was pinned down with panic.

“Are you listening to me, Norisuke? Are you religious, huh? Ah, no bother, I guess you’re concerned about how your children all went back towards that hallway a while ago, and now you can’t hear their voices. I heard once that to a parent’s instincts, silence is worse than screaming. Why don’t you try giving a shout to check on them? Or perhaps I can call Hato back in myself,” Damo grinned while his Stand’s beady eyes stared at Norisuke from the darkness.

“Stop! Stop in your tracks God damn it! If you do anything to my girls I’ll kill you! Josuke and Joshu will kill you! Jobin won’t let you live!”

Damo scoffed at that last scenario. “Let’s get back on topic, yes? Yotsuyu Yagiyama came to your property to find a tree with a Locacaca growing off it. You know about the Locacaca fruit from New Guinea, right? Yotsuyu was trying to track down that tree, but was having a rough go at it because of the Wall Eyes. While they were here, they met your granddaughter, and ended up disappearing.”

“I don’t know anything about a Locacaca! You’re crazy!” Norisuke protested.

“Shhh. We’re still on question one - one of three - we'll get to that.” Damo fetched a small piece of rounded wood from his pocket, half stained with artificial fruit flavor: A popsicle stick. “I want you to tell me, did you kill Yotsuyu?”

Norisuke grimaced, but stayed silent. Damo pressed the popsicle stick against his melted wrist and zipped it to the side, pulling apart Norisuke’s hand from his arm, sinew and nerves falling off like meat from a tender pork butt. Norisuke bit his lip to suppress a scream as blood squeezed out of the end of his deflated arm like yogurt out of a tube packed in a school lunch.

“It’s unwise to underestimate me.” Norisuke continued giving no answer but staggered breathing. “If you want to play hard to get, I can always do that to your Daiya instead. My Stand will have made her easier to cut than butter.”

“It was me! Ahhh, it was me God damn it!” Norisuke finally belted out, sending all the pent up pain with his words. “I pushed Yotsuyu into the sea and let them drown because I found out they were a Rock Human!”

“See! Was that so hard? Although, I’m not quite satisfied with this explanation. You see, I think it would’ve been pretty difficult for you to find out Yotsuyu and defeat them all on your own. You weren’t alone when you fought them, right? Tell me who it was that helped you.”

Norisuke thought he was sweating, but any liquid on his face was no longer distinguishable from his skin.

Damo began prancing around the living room, which was covered from floor to ceiling, couch to lamp, in Vitamin C’s hands. “I must say, Norisuke, this really is a delightful home.” He turned his attention towards a rarely stood-in corner behind the TV wall. “My word, is that a tropical fish tank?” he tapped at the tank of neon tetras and cherry barbs.

“Don’t touch the glass, it disturbs them!” Norisuke pleaded, at his wits’ end over Damo’s tornado of torment consuming his house.

“Question #1,” Damo recapped, still tapping the glass, “was if you knew about the Locacaca, and question #2 was if you killed Yotsuyu. Now here comes question #3 - the last one, for those following at home -: Do you know where Josefumi Kujo is?”

“I don’t know any Josefumi! Honest!” Vitamin C slinked behind Norisuke’s head and resolidified it, making for a solid hit when Damo rushed him and punched him square in the nose.

“Fuck you gramps! You think you can play with me?”

While Norisuke was stunned Damo went back to the fish tank, the former finding it difficult to track the latter in his vision as his head was melted back down.

Damo returned with a trio of tropical fish clutched in his meaty fists, which he tossed down into Norisuke’s liquid torso.

Norisuke screamed as the fish flailed around inside him, displacing his organs. Damo cackled wildly. “Shit! I knew they’d try to swim!” He had taken out his own smart phone and started videoing the event. “This is so good! I’ve never seen a tropical fish swimming inside somebody before!”

Damo’s laughter eventually wore off as the fish were themselves liquified and died from being starved of proper oxygen intake. “Do you think that was the worst pain of your life, Norisuke? Physical pain of course, discounting any events relating to your mother or your wife.”

Norisuke’s eyes narrowed. “Kill me already, you waste!”

Damo laughed and shook his head. “Oh I will slaughter your entire family in a little bit, but you’re still more useful alive. What I was getting at is: Take that pain from being used as a fish pond, and multiply it by maybe 150 or some nice number like that. That’s what I’ll do to Hato - before your very eyes - if you don’t give me a complete answer. Tell me where Josefumi is, or I’ll mutilate Hato and leave you alive with the memory.”

Norisuke would’ve thrown up, if he had any body left intact to do so with.

“Hato boo! Your dad is calling for you!” Damo shouted down in the hallway.

Hato stood before a half-melted Josuke and two blobs she horrifically came to register as her younger siblings. Josuke could tell she was in the beginning stages of a panic attack.

“Hato boo! Your dad is calling for you!” finally came words out of the screaming and hushed chatting from the living room.

“Hato, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I don’t remember what I did, but Tamaki Damo’s gonna kill you over it if you go back out there.”

“K-Kan would never, he-” The happiest girl Josuke knew in his life was breaking down in front of him.

“I told you, I’ll give him mercy. Call him out here instead, and I’ll use Soft & Wet to snap his neck. It’ll save everybody.”

Hato kept saying words, but she didn’t seem to be able to make a real sentence.

“Come on Hato! You’re keeping us waiting! I miss you so bad!” Damo kept ramping up the schmaltziness,

“Oh God! Stop it! Okay, just leave her alone!” Norisuke had broken. “Just kill me and spare the kids, and I’ll talk!”

Damo turned around and grinned. Norisuke cried. “Forgive me, JoJo. I couldn’t protect you.”

Norisuke took a deep breath as Damo leaned in with keen interest. “I really don’t know the name Josefumi Kujo, but that has to be Josuke.”

Damo looked blankly and was mute, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I can’t say this for certain, honest, but based on what you said, if you’re looking for a kid who disappeared when Yoshikage Kira died, then that’s probably Josuke.”

Damo stood dumbfounded. “You mean, that kid who was with Hato before, freeloader boy the same age as Joshu?” Damo scratched his chin a bit. “I mean, it adds up but, their faces and physiques seem quite a bit different.” Damo leaned in and whispered to Norisuke condescendingly. “Are you bullshitting me, Norisuke?”

“I told you, I’m not certain!” Norisuke tried to reel back the situation back in. “But from what we gathered, Josuke’s body did an exchange with Kira because of the ground here. That power has been here for a long time, even without the Wall Eyes.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Damo chuckled. “Certainly adds some things up.”

Damo left Norisuke on the couch, walking out of the living room and towards the entryway.

Norissuke wanted to scream for him to stop, but Vitamin C melted him down into 100% goop.

Josuke had dragged himself in the entryway to the Higashikata home, with Hato numbly following him. In front of him, 50.17 centimeters away, was the sliding glass side doors outside, on the opposite side was Tsurugi’s weird little rock dog, Pebble, who was shaking but undisturbed by Vitamin C. Behind him, someone was approaching at a much greater pace.

The door to the house behind them creaked open. Hato’s boyfriend had appeared.

“Tamaki? What’s going on?” Hato asked, her face as red from crying as the brick fireplace in the living room.

Damo shushed her, and pulled her into a kiss.

Vitamin C’s groped around her entire body, A wave of snakes coiling around her as she was rapidly dissolved into nothing.

Damo stepped over her like a mud puddle.

“Josefumi?” he asked, like he was looking for an old friend.

Josuke stared at him, straight in his evil little eyes hiding behind his sunglasses’ tint. “Speaking.”

“Right,” Damo smiled, as for him all was over. His Stand lurked behind him. “Yotsuyu and Aisho and the Twins, you killed them all, right? And now it's flooded together into us standing right here.”

“If I kill you too, your Stand ability would go away, right?” Damo nodded.

“Soft & Wet!”

Soft & Wet apparated crouching in front of Josuke, and sprang into a forwarding punch.

“Vitamin C!”

Damo fished a small 100 yen coin out of one of his many pockets, and flicked it towards Soft & Wet’s fist. It split its hand on impact, dividing the whole way up its arm, knocking Josuke backwards as his Stand’s form fell apart.

“Oh, my poor boy, did you not know that Vitamin C can melt Stands as well as people? That’s too bad.”

Josuke used his remaining hand to shoot a tiny bubble towards Damo’s face, gently floating in front of his eyes until it popped out with great force and shattered his glasses, frame splitting in half and plummeting off his face.

“Asshole,” Damo scoffed, as he got a good look at Josuke’s face. No longer seeing the world through baby blue tinted lenses, he took great interest in Josuke’s split eyes and vitiligo spots. “Man, that geezer was right about equivalent exchange. Did the Wall Eyes do this, or was it that grafted Locacaca?” he pondered out loud. “No matter, I’ll leave the experimentation to the doctors. I just know that once all you Higashikatas are dead, I’m gonna pour over every tree until I find that fruit!”

He knelt down beside Josuke. “Is it right that you have no memories from before? You don’t remember being Josefumi and stealing from me, or fighting me on Kira’s boat?”

Josuke declined to comment.

“I’m just curious: Did you enjoy your life? The couple months you’ve had, were they good?”

Josuke nodded. “I met a great girl who I love, and I have a dad I’m proud of, and a mom I care about, and three sisters who love me. I even like Joshu. To put it in simple terms, I think I’m a really lucky guy. Frankly, I think most of the important things in my life happen because of luck, or maybe it’s Fate.”

“Do you think you’re lucky right now?”

“Yeah. Real lucky.” Damo saw the same steeled stare Yoshikage gave him on Hot Space looking back at him now. “Like when I crawled into this room, I saw Tsurugi’s pet outside, and how she’s totally fine.”

Damo gave a “hmmm?” and looked at the familiar gray beast which was now trotting away, back towards the wilderness.

“And then I was lucky that you got distracted by your glasses breaking long enough that you didn’t notice that big bubble I slid across the floor behind you; I guess you really liked them, huh?”

Damo started gritting his teeth. “Bubble?”

“Yeah. Soft & Wet got turned into slime by your Stand, but it can still control its bubbles. I sent a big bubble Spinning across the floor in here, and it scooped up something you left behind, and then brought it up through the fireplace in the living room. Right now, I can sense it floating above the house, and now it’s gonna come down to right on the porch out there.” Josuke pointed out the sliding doors. True to his words, a huge bubbling sphere was coming, Spinning in the air, lowering towards the ground. Inside was a tall girl, her crying eyes covered by her tangled blonde hair.

“Hato?” Damo spun around, seeing that Josuke had indeed stolen away the puddle of Hato and gotten her restored to normal.

“Another lucky thing, Tamaki Damo, if that's your real name,” Josuke tried to act cool, but couldn’t resist a sly smile. “About a month or so ago, before I fought your hitmen brothers, Daiya got herself into some trouble, and I got to witness Hato’s Stand.”

“Her Stand?” Damo was losing control again, something he did not like to do. He refused to waver. He had overcome greater opponents than some brain-dead bimbo sheep.

Hato stood strong as she was released from the bubble. She raised her head to look at her lover.

“H-Hato dear, this is just a misunderstanding!” Damo began trying to dial back, and reapply his artificial charm. “Josuke’s the bad guy here!”

Hato glared at him. “Tamaki Damo… you bastard.” A royal purple aura began to radiate around Hato. “You broke my heart.”

A well built warrior appeared behind her, even taller than she was. Its glowing yellow body was almost entirely concealed beneath bundles of purple straw.

Hato inhaled and wiped her tears. “And worse than that, you hurt my sister, and my little brothers.” Her Stand growled with ferocity as the right one of its oar-ish arms rose to point vindictively at Damo.

“King of Wishful Thinking!”

Hato lifted up one of her beautiful, nearly equine legs and showed Damo the bottom of her heels. The heel jut forward, blasting through the sliding door’s glass plane and nailing Damo in his ugly frogish throat.

28 March, 1995

A small girl, eight years of age, sat under the shading branches of the Twin Pine Trees on her family’s land. She was dressed up like a child actress from the 1930s. One might be surprised that this sweet little kid in a potato sack dressing gown would grow up to be Hato Higashikata; Here she lacked even her distinctive pointed ends of hair.

“Hato dear! It’s dinner time!” she looked up to see her mother approaching from the house, sweeping her up with a twirl. “There you are,” she tickled her chin.

“Mommy, you made me drop my doll,” The young Hato pointed down to the dirt, where a crude straw effigy lay.

Her mother picked up, smiling at the bundle of tiny twigs as she turned it over in inspection. “Did you make this?”

“Mhm!” Hato bragged. “I saw how to in a book.”

“It’s very nice dear, but be careful with it.” She dropped her voice to a playfully mysterious whisper. “Some people say these are used to cast curses.”

Hato gasped. “For real?”

Her mother nodded, her two bundles of black hair patting either shoulder, swirling like a bee hive each. “Long ago, there was a woman who was scorned by a man she loved who betrayed her for another.” As her mother often did, she stared into the great beyond as recounted a fantastical piece of folklore to her daughter. “She cast a straw doll and put a piece of his hair inside of it, then brought it to a shine during the Hour of the Ox. She dressed in a white gown with many decorations, and brought a mallet and a nail, which she drove into the doll to pin it against the tree. She left the doll there, and came back every night during the Hour of the Ox for a week straight to mallet another nail into it. Once it had been pierced seven times, the man who had broken her heart was attacked by an evil spirit, and suffered a terrible fate.” 

Hato had been captivated by her mother’s tale, as she was always. It would be burned into her memory for a long, long time.

“Mommy, are there really such things as curses?”

Her mother pursed her lips. “I think things are only as real as you believe they are.”

“I heard older kids say that people in this town can summon evil spirits too. Is that true?”

She went back to smiling. “Well now, what do you think makes a spirit evil?”

Little Hato shrugged, disregarding the thought in favor of going inside to eat up a piping hot bowl of potato stew.

Chapter Text

6 October 2011

“One. ” King of Wishful Thinking pounded against Hato’s extended heel, causing Damo’s face to scrunch up with invisible punches.

“Wait dear, I just had to trick Josefumi! Once he’s gone, we’re gonna take the New Locacaca and use it to get rich together! Your whole family.”

Hato did not give him the luxury of hearing her speak.

“‘Tis not the Hour of the Ox, nor do I have seven days to spare. Oh evil spirit, vanquish the man, the traitor, before me anyway.”

She reared her shoe back and extended it again, nailing it into Damo’s shoulder this time.

“Two.”

She retracted the heel back to a manageable standing length and kicked her other foot around, turning it into her nail next. It jabbed Damo in either kneecap.

“Three. Four.”

“Vitamin C!” The hands across the Higashikata House slithered outside, all the family members returning to normal as they attempted to crowd Hato. She stood indignant, and jabbed her nail-heel straight into the wall on the side of the house. It reeled in her close, lifting her above the fingerprints of the ground. She spiked up her other shoe into a shape suitable for piercing the wall, sending crumbles of side paneling down to be liquefied. She began to climb up the side of the house onto the roof, like the family’s guardian angel walking back to Heaven.

“Touch the fingerprints God damn it!” Damo screamed. Seeing Joshu and Daiya stand back up from inside the house, he tried to run towards them, but was intercepted by a nail forcing its way down through the roof.

“Five.”

Hato’s heel had clipped him right in the side of the gut, tearing off a great deal of his jacket including a pocket with some more of his treasures inside. He seized the chance to grab a lighter and bring it aflame, pointing it towards Josuke’s still goopy feet. “I’ll light the bastard on fire, just you watch!” His spiteful cries betrayed his position, as Hato’s other shoe broke through the ceiling and straight through his hand. 

“Six.”

An entire square of roof completely caved in, slamming against Damo’s blown off comb over. Hato towered above him, her heels shrinking down and lowering her into the house as King of Wishful Thinking wailed against them, making Damo let out a cacophony of uber-cathartic cries of pain.

“Tamaki…” Hato burned through his facade of love just by speaking. “You were responsible for all that has happened to Josuke, right?”

Damo had no will to answer yes or no, merely support himself against the ground as he bled. His Stand was cracking apart behind him, its power gone as Kei ran in from the kitchen and Norisuke hobbled behind her, sans one hand.

“And then Isamu died because of you too… And you used me to come into this house. Isn’t that right?”

Damo looked up at her.

“Seven.”

All of the other five present at 3121 Hill that today watched Hato's King of Wishful Thinking fill the room with a purple and golden glow as it condemned the home intruder Damo: With a final kick Hato sent a heel stabbing straight into his right eye. He screamed and cried and coughed up stone and blood.

Hato cried as she looked at him. Josuke walked around Damo and hugged her, letting her know that she didn’t have to do it.

Damo meekly hobbled outside, and Josuke followed behind him. In only a few minutes, their positions had made a complete turnabout. Now Josuke would be the executioner, and Tamaki Damo would never kill again.

23 August 2011

Damo and Yotsuyu stood, annoyed at the manic accomplice rambling before them. Ella Ishizuchi was a woman who’s nerves and paranoia made Aisho look like a stoic philosopher.

“This is insane! I’m telling you! This Kira guy, of course I’ll make a fake body for him, but his body’s already messed up! There’s no sign of injury on this dude, no cause of death! He has two too many teeth, and his scrotum is missing, there’s just things that seem ‘out of place’, a few spots that have signs of inexplicable trauma, but there’s no cause of death!”

“Bullshit,” Damo casually called. “I saw Kira myself, his entire torso was slit open because of my Stand.”

“And nobody found the other guy’s body? Something weird is going on here!” she insisted, to which Yotsuyu scoffed.

“Get your job done already, you incompetent hysteric! Hanging out in a morgue is giving me the creeps.”

6 October 2011

Damo could only replay that scene in his mind as he staggered onwards, thinking over the implications of it. “Kira didn’t exchange anything, he didn’t lose anything to be healed. It all went to Josefumi, all the petrification exchanges, and then their parts got switched around underground… ”

Josuke did not chase Damo out of the house. They both knew this was a walk to the latter’s grave. There was nothing left to be done. Be it luck or Fate, Josuke had risen to be victorious as much as the Wall Eyes had risen out of the ground. As Josuke’s pace easily caught up to Damo’s pathetic limp, the crime lord came to rest against the brick wall encasing the Higashikata’s driveway. Josuke brought out his Stand to do the deed.

Damo glared up at Soft & Wet's uncaring gaze, and realized that this time there would be no threatening or bribing his way out of it. It was the end of the line.

He seemed to observe for the first time the week’s worth of stab wounds that had been inflicted on him by the girl he banked on as his brain-dead bimbo sheep. He inhaled deeply.

And then he smiled.

Josuke almost started shaking with fright as he heard his adversary break out into an unrestrained cackle, a laugh which rang back down through the walls of the manor.

"Josefumi! You stupid fucking bastard!" he wailed straight in Josuke's face, eyes and teeth appearing savage and animalistic. "Don't you realize what you did?" With his left hand - the one with a gaping hole pierced straight through - he pushed the shattered remnants of glasses against his face, while his right ran bloodied fingers through his hair as he styled himself one last time.

"Over there, somewhere in that orchard, there's still the Locacaca branch you stole from us. But what happened to you... That's no effect of our product, nor is it something the power of the Wall Eyes alone could've done. You created a new Locacaca fruit all together!" he slapped himself in the face with the realization. "Can't you imagine it? The ability to heal all injury on a person while all the collateral damage is sent to somebody else? The rich will trample themselves trying to get to it! The entire value of human lives is gonna be redefined! The poor, farmed to be used as exchange subjects, all because of your fucking fluke!”

He gritted his teeth and made eye contact. "And let me tell you something: If you intend on getting it, it's not gonna be smooth sailing. Do you think I was the only player in this game, huh? Me, Yotsuyu, Aisho, the Twins?" he paused for only a second, but his eyes looked like they went through a lifetime. "You haven't seen half the things I have, you Goddamn maniac. And someday, you're gonna be in a situation you can't just punch and kill your way out of, you're gonna hit the wall just like the rest of us! You hear me?! You're not some little walking miracle, you're a freak of nature! You think you're doing all of this for your mother? For the Higashikata Family? That girl you were on the phone with? Let me tell you Mr.Hero, all you've done is unleashed an unstoppable chain of disaster on them!"

Josuke held his breath for a moment.

"ORA!"

Soft & Wet lunged forward, smashing Damo's face back against the wall, his nose caving in with a sickening crunch as his eye tissue fell apart and his neck was snapped sideways, his body finally falling limp on the asphalt, before it dissolved away into grainy shards.

Josuke numbly sat in a pile of Damo’s dust for a little bit. Eventually, Kei was the first one to come out to him. She hid her eyes under the brim of her hat, but Josuke could see the shadow of tears.

He hugged her.

“That guy was, the one who killed your brother.”

She didn't care to say anything.

“I’m sorry about everything but, it’s over now.” He knew that should be true, but it somehow felt like a lie.

He eventually left her standing. He could never tell what that woman was dreaming of, he only hoped he could still factor in it.

He went back inside the house. Hato was sat down bawling her eyes out, Daiya was still shaking but making an admirable attempt at calming her sister down by playing with her hair and twirling it into semblances of braids. Joshu had brought his hysterical father back to the couch, and used his Stand to screw his hand back on. It looked a little stiff, but Norisuke seemed to be regaining movement in his fingers well.

They were all just quiet for a while. Nobody wanted to talk about it, they just sat in mutual understanding. Josuke broke the silence.

“I’m… I’m really sorry everyone.” The words he could conquer were but brief summaries of the great weight burdening him, and he could tell this was the case for everyone.

Hato shook her head and jumped straight on his words.

“JoJo, don’t you dare tell us ‘sorry.’” She rubbed her hand against Daiya’s arm, signaling to let her stand up. “This is all my fault… I let that guy trick me.”

And on cue, Norisuke almost suffocated his daughter with love, hugging so tightly. “Nonsense, I’m the one in disgrace here. I failed to protect any of you kids…” He shook his head at himself.

“Hey guys,” Joshu squawked up, not bothering to stop sitting. “Quit beating yourselves up! The only person who’s fault any of that was was that evil no-neck asshole, and he’s dead and buried!”

“Joshu’s right,” Daiya hiccupped out. “We’re all okay, and in a little bit this can just be a sad memory,” she cried. “We could go on vacation while our house gets fixed up, and make a dozen good memories to even out this bad one!” She guided herself to Joshu’s voice, and Joshu let her wrap herself around him.

“Oh my God!” were Mitsuba Higashikata’s words upon seeing the state of her home and her family. Unable to comprehend what had occurred in her absence, as any person bless with a normal life would’ve been, she tended to everyone in a cross between nursing and motherhood, and eventually wrapped the five into a great familial group hug while Jobin phoned to get Tsurugi home safe and sound.

“Damo came to my house and hurt my fucking family…” Jobin contemplated the disjointed story his crying siblings and father had all pieced together. “And Josuke killed him…” his eyes twitched. He planted his face in his hands, mind overloaded with every emotion at once.

“Pass your wrist over the green light please.”

Fifteen years she had been waiting for this day. She was being led out.

A grandma of a clerk sat opposite of her behind a table, presenting a treasure trove of items from carefully standardized plastic bagging.

“160028 yen, inside of a leather wallet.” She presented each item she described them, now free to be taken back.

“One pair of sunglasses, and one ring made of white gold.” She looked at her ring with dismissal, mentally yawning over the “N & C” inscribed inside.

“The clothing and shoes you wore at the time of your arrest.” Here was the good part, she could finally get back her blue mesh dress and swim top to replace the drab teal jumpsuits she had worn for a decade and a half, the allure of decorative cards and checkered silk scarves along with her heels and tights replacing the “STONE OCEAN PRISON” written on her back.

“Finally is a complete set of 52 personally branded but otherwise standard playing cards, which you were - as per your plea agreement - allowed access to inside of the prison.”

She bowed as she accepted her precious cards back.

“We are also due to present you with a lump sum of compensation earned by doing hard labor, sewing work, and laundry. Your hourly wages were calculated per job, varying from 8.2 to as much as 40.5 yen an hour. You worked the maximum eight hours a day five days a week, excluding holidays before and after New Years.” The clerk’s reading was very scripted, but hints of sentimentality were starting to break through. “You never spent any money inside the prison commissary, and rounding down to the nearest decimal your payout is 790,992 yen. You may sign here if you claim no contest to my prior report.”

After she signed, she was beckoned over by a burly, suited woman, the prison warden. She offered her left wrist, and the warden used a small pair of sheer-like things to snap off a wrist bracelet from her.

“Your prison term is officially complete.” The warden took off her hat and held it to her chest, as a small crowd of around a dozen other guards and staff surrounded her to see her off. “You were a model prisoner, and if I may speak from personal feelings, we will all really miss you. We understand society has likely not forgiven you for your crimes, but we all wish you the best of luck, Mrs. Highashikata.”

Caato higashikata smirked. “It’s been a pleasure, everybody; and please, it’s Ms. Higashikata now.”

She stepped out into the free world, and plucked her wedding ring down a sewer drain behind her.

Yasuho walked towards 3121 Hill with Tsurugi in tow, with the latter having been called home suddenly by her mother. It sounded a bit serious. 

“I hope I can catch up with Jojo about that Josefumi guy…” she pouted.

The two waited at a crosswalk, when they were suddenly consumed in the shadow of another woman. She stood with great providence, and somehow seemed both sinister and entirely trustworthy at once.

“You look very lovely, dearie.” Her sentences were tender and calculated, and in no small part sultry. “Is the little one yours?”

Yasuho blushed. “Oh! Uh, no, she’s a family friend.” was what she said, while what she thought was “Geez lady, do I really look old enough to have a nine year old? This stress has been terrible for my looks. I knew it!”

“She reminds me of my granddaughter,” the woman said, before she crossed the street with them and parted ways as quickly as she had appeared.

“No matter, I’ll leave the experimentation to the doctor.”

Josuke’s thoughts kept being plagued by that sentence, even as he went through embrace after embrace with his loved ones, even as the Higashikatas were hastily piled into the nearest hotel which could be booked for five rooms at the last minute. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“He said it so casually, he wasn’t even thinking… But the whole time, he only kept bringing up Yotsuyu, Aisho, and those Twins. An architect, a guard, and, well I don't think either of the hitmen were bright enough to be called 'doctor.' If there was another member of his gang - discounting Jobin, whatever he was doing with them - Damo would’ve sent them here too. He didn’t have any subordinates left, so…

Who else is there? ”

Tamaki Damo, the boss of the Damokan Group, the man responsible for the tragedy of Yoshikage Kira and Josefumi Kujo, and the assailant of the Higashikata Family, died that day. He was fatally stabbed by Hato, who he had manipulated ruthlessly, and finished off by Josuke himself, who wished to spare Hato the trauma of killing him. But other shadows still lurk within Morioh, and Josefumi’s Locacaca still awaits its heir on the Higashikata’s farmland.

Norisuke and Joshu had gotten their own rooms, Hato and Daiya shared one, and of course so did Jobin and his family. Never before had Josuke been a consideration, so for now he too was just given his own room, though Norisuke and the sisters both made it clear it could come over to theirs if he wanted, and even Mitsuba seemed particularly sympathetic.

He was fine sitting by himself, on stale smelling bed sheets watching mediocre basic cable.

“No matter, I’ll leave the experimentation to the- ”

The loop in his head was broken by a knock on the thin, white door to his room. He nearly started panicking, the threat of danger tingling at the back of his head. It was there until he looked through the eye hole in the center of the wood slab, where it was then thrown right out as Josuke almost collapsed to happily cry.

He opened the door and Yasuho ran straight into his arms. She blabbered 25 words a second about all the terrible things Kei and Joshu and Hato had told her had happened, but Josuke shushed her by bringing her lips into his. She closed and locked the door behind her and the two danced into Josuke’s bed. Yasuho was left gasping as Josuke pulled their kiss apart to make room to rip her top off; Her cheeks were colored to match her rose eyes as Josuke smooched her all over.

They kissed and cuddled and made love and played with each other’s hair for hours. Neither Josuke nor Yasuho dared speak, as they’d have to leave their bliss behind to confront what they knew: It wasn’t over yet. There were too many mysteries they hadn’t solved, too many people lurking in the shadows they hadn’t illuminated, too many curses left unbroken.

They fell asleep tight in each other’s arms, and dreamed of being able to Go Beyond.

Chapter Text

It was the cusp of dawn. The Sun had just gathered the courage to come up and start flirting with the sky and the clouds. Her courting was watched by the Wall Eyes, their numbers spanning indefinitely in a ring around Morioh’s coast.

Once upon a time, The Sun’s best friend was a Gemel, a pair of Pine Trees whose trunks had ended up fusing together as they grew up, and she named them Twin Pine. The Sun would shine the brightest on Twin Pine every single morning, until one day, the Earth shook and rose up out of its crust. When the Wall Eyes were born, Twin Pine got split back apart into two trees: Lone Pine and Beach Pine. Lone Pine stayed in their original spot, and frightened The Sun, because she could now see that there was a cave, a prison, underneath it. The Lone Pine had taken people to die underneath it during the night, when The Sun couldn’t see. Beach Pine had its roots dragged all the way to the coast because of the Wall Eyes curving the ground. The Sun followed it, but was again scared away when the Beach Pine revealed its true form as a horrible beast.

Since that day, The Sun no longer shines quite so brightly on either tree. Instead, she has found a new best friend: another tree. She named it the Star Tree, because it was once an ordinary tree until two Stars came down and put a Crown of Thrones on one of its branches. The Crown of Thorns was a Miracle made by the Stars out of Suffering, which made it become special. The Sun took to the Star Tree because after she saw how the Gemel she thought was beautiful was secretly hiding a terrible secret from her, her spirits got lifted seeing how the many Misforunates and Calamities the Stars found were able to be made into something so beautiful. Now every morning in Morioh, The Sun shines brightest on the Star Tree, right on its Crown of Thorns.

Josuke was told by the stock alarm clock which had joined him and Yasuho in their hotel room that he woke up at 06:21, almost eight hours of sleep, impressive given the stress which permeated his dreams.

Josuke rolled over to his other side so could embrace the sight of the honey sweet presence which had protected his sleep. Yasuho’s face remained stained by blush, even as she slept still. Most of her clothes had been accosted by the corners of the room, and one of her arms was half-draped over Josuke’s shoulders while the other one held his shirt close to her heart.

Josuke took his deft fingers and used them as a big thick comb to rake in Yasuho’s hair and brush it clear out her face. Josuke planted his lips on her warm forehead and smooched it until she woke up, the split pupils in his eyes focusing on Yasuho’s own patch of dual-color, wisps of coffee sprouting out from her head and making themselves comfortable atop her crown of crayon blue.

Her lithe little eyelids peeled themselves up, and Josuke could see in them she was embarrassed to have caught herself rolled over in bed. She playfully tried to worm away from Josuke but he kept her held tenderly against him until she was woken all the way up.

“JoJo,” she yawned like a song.

“Hey Yassy,” Josuke teased her with her slightly less intuitive nickname. “What’s up with your hair?”

Yasuho crossed her eyes and focused the best she could on the peripheral sight of her strands growing out above her forehead. “Oh, my roots are coming in.”

She looked at Josuke’s befuddled face, and was momentarily transported back in time to when they met. When there were no cartels or cursed families, just a pitiful little puppy man in a hospital gown.

“Oh man, I don’t think I ever told you.” She half-heartedly knocked herself on the head. “My hair’s dyed.” She blushed a little more admitting that, embarrassed by the backstory rather than the neon navy locks themselves. “Back at the end of high school I got depressed after my break-up and started dyeing it to feel prettier.”

“Well, I think you’d still look plenty pretty without it.” Josuke stifled a laugh at her blushing and kissed her, before sitting up and walking out of bed.

“Awww, do we gotta go already?” Yasuho jokingly reached after him. “I wasn’t done cuddling.”

Josuke held his hand out back. “Come on honey, get your shoes on,” he gestured over his shoulder to the door, “we’ve got work to do.”

It was until they were descending down the elevator that Josuke fully realized that he was wearing only his fishnet undertop, and his real shirt had never been returned from Yasuho’s clutch, and was now throwing loose folds in the space around her tummy. Josuke looked up and down at her wearing it, looking like a great green blanket which clashed against the fading blue of her hair while making her feel just as warmed as one would. Josuke’s eyes followed her arm up as she raised a hand to her cheek, confessing her theft of the shirt as the oversized cuff covered up her embarrassed smile. Their silent exchange was ended when their lift hit the bottom floor and spread its doors open to greet them to the lobby.

It was early enough that the lounge immediate to the hotel’s entrance doors was mostly empty, and the early risers who were present had been lured into a semicircle around Norisuke, who gathered a crowd spinning yarns about his business endeavors in between bites of jam-coated muffin. The only one sitting alone was the familiarly distant sight of Mitsuba Higashikata’s wine red hair.

Josuke approached with intent, lacking any desire to even stop and sit down. Yasuho skipped in front of him, electing herself to the role of making sure her boo’s steadfastness wouldn’t result in any sort of a scene with the public present.

Mitsuba was cupping onto a mug of fresh coffee with both hands, as if the cup contained her entire world inside of it. Her hair brushed into silk distracted from a face betraying restlessness.

“Josuke!” she jittered a bit, as if the couple’s appearance had shocked her out of her mind and back into the hotel. “How are you doing?”

“We’re doing fine,” Yasuho assured. “Where’s everybody else?”

“We’re letting Tsurugi sleep in, of course. Hato and Daiya won’t come out of their room, and Joshu won’t even wake up; We think he was awake all night on the internet.”

Josuke hesitated over images of his emotionally wrecked siblings, but continued on to the dreaded “J” word that needed to be addressed.

“Where’s Jobin, then?”

“He uh, he went for a swim in the pool.”

Josuke took Yasuho’s hand and left to find him.

“Wait!” Mitsuba yelled after them, nearly earning the attention of Norisuke’s table. Josuke barely wanted to turn to look at her, letting Yasuho’s eyes do most of that heavy lifting.

“What do you want from my husband?”

“‘Want from him?’” Josuke incredulously repeated. “What are you talking about? I’m just trying to go talk to my adoptive brother. Our whole family is under distress right now, it’s not right to lash out at each other.”

“No, it’s not like that.” Mitsuba sat her cup down on the table, continuing to stare at her own brown tinted reflection instead of at Josuke. “I didn’t take it seriously at the time, but when you made him fight beetles with you after he came back from his business trip, you wanted to get ownership of his car, and then after that all of this business with gangsters coming after you started!”

“Mitsuba dear, my business, not that I understand a lot of it still, but it has nothing to do with Jobin. It’s all dealt with now anyway, but I’m sorry for what I’ve caused.” Josuke tried bowing to her distant face, but Yasuho kept him raised with a hand under his chin.

“Mitsuba, do you think it’s right to turn a blind eye to evil if it’s for the person you love?”

“Love is what makes the difference between good and evil to begin with.” For Yasuho, Mitsuba actually sat up to look at her. “I decided that when I married into the Higashikata Family.”

Josuke had never been to an indoor pool before, and was very unsettled by the contrast which miniature lapping waves made by the strong arms of a man gave to the natural liquid behemoths which roared across the shore.

Josuke and Yasuho teetered the edge of the pool, noses misted as Jobin splashed towards them. His hands anchored himself towards Josuke and Yasuho’s feet, and he gleamed up to them, smiling. His hair was soaked and darkened to the point where you couldn’t tell it was blonde, his shirtless state aiming one of his nipples at each of them.

“Hey hey, Gappy, how you hanging buddy?” He looked up and down at Yasuho by his side and smirked. “Got to play the ‘steal my jacket’ game, huh?”

Josuke scowled down at him in reply. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush time.”

“Oh?” Jobin’s eyes narrowed.

“Jobin, I want you to tell me something: Who is Aisho Dainenjiyama?”

Jobin’s face was washed away; In that moment, he demeanor became entirely stone cold.

“So, your game in betting for ownership of my Lamborghini really was to look at my GPS data. Isn’t that right, Josefumi Kujo?”

Josuke’s heart skipped a beat, his lips parted as a stutter of shock and anger whisked its way out of the gap in his teeth.

“You knew about me the entire time then, didn’t you?!”

Jobin’s hands leaped from within the clear-blue pool water and gripped the ladder back to the tile floor. With his chiseled arms he lifted himself out of the pool, breaching into the air as if he was the Leviathan. He stood before Josuke, dangerous intent behind his eyes.

And then he hugged him. Rather tightly. He was getting Josuke’s hair wet along the curls with how much his arms shook off chlorine infused drops.

“Gappy… Thank you.” Jobin finally released him from the grasp of his pecs and bowed in front of him instead.

“Wh…Wha?” Yasuho wasn’t having a good time processing this turn of events.

Jobin peeled himself off of Josuke’s netted top and covered himself loosely with a woolen towel. “You were… right to suspect me.”

“Soft & Wet!” Josuke’s hand pointed out like a rifle and was surrounded by a bubbling aura, which slowed down as he saw that Jobin’s eyes were narrowing not into slyness, but to put on a face of shame.

“You can put your Stand away, just please, let me sit down and explain.”

True to his word, Jobin took occupancy in a lounge chair, and began talking.

“When I was in university, my roommate was Yotsuyu Yagiyama. I knew about how they were a ‘Rock Human’, but hey, my family weren’t exactly unfamiliar with high strangeness. All was good. Parties, games, sex, drugs, fine dining, we did all of it together, along with Aisho, who was Yotsuyu’s best friend. I met my wife because of them,” he reflected fondly, an emotion which seemed to be quickly lost.

“Then three years ago, my dad paid Yotsuyu to design a new house for our property. I met them again at a ballpark, and they introduced me to their gang… We went out partying and they got me drunked up, Aisho was there too, and late at night they took me along on one of their illegal deals. Not for the Locacaca Fruit, they were just interested in accumulating street territory. A little while after we got reacquainted, they got into a fight with another gang leader, and she kidnapped Hato as leverage.”

Josuke gave a “What?” while Yasuho was keen to listen to the details she wasn’t ever privy to.

“You won’t hear about this anywhere, on the news or anything, because my family had it all swept under the rug. I took responsibility and intervened, and the woman who took Hato… I killed her.”

Yasuho’s nails had taken to being bit, while Josuke stood firm and steadfast. “I,” Even he couldn’t help but stutter as the conversation went entirely out of his predictions, “I was once told that you murdered somebody for Yagiyama.” Jobin grimly nodded.

“I killed somebody that day. After that, the Damokan Group coerced me into working for them, laundering money. Then one day this year, I was called by Yotsuyu to go on a manhunt on my own family’s land. And Josuke…” he looked tenderly into Josuke’s eyes. “I found you.”

“Is he… being honest? ” Josuke had expected to take everything Jobin would say with skepticism, but his testimony matched up with Josuke’s memory of being looked down on by him.

“I saw you survive because you used the Locacaca you grew, it was a true miracle. I defied Tamaki Damo and left you alive; It never occurred to me that you’d develop amnesia, otherwise I would’ve taken you home myself. And now, you’ve wiped out all those Rock Humans! We all won!”

“You… You bastard!” Yasuho snapped at him. “You’re the one who put your family in harm's way because of hiding everything from them, and now you’re just gonna sit back in a pool chair sunshine and rainbows because someone else murdered your problems for you?”

Jobin smiled at her, not smugly but with full childish joy. “That’s the strength of the Higashikata Family. Our righteousness is what’s on top, and because we loaned our name to you, Gappy, you were able to borrow that strength!”

“So, what now then, Jobin?” Josuke crossed his arms, unwilling to match Jobin’s enthusiasm. “Are you ever going to fess up to your family?”

Jobin’s smile dropped, and he held his hand to his head. “Listen Josuke, you can’t ever tell my dad about this. Or anybody. The thing is, around the same time this all went down, my dad opened the Higashikata Fruits Parlor in downtown Morioh.”

“You didn’t!”

“It’s as you fear. That parlor is dad’s pride and joy because of its huge success, but the truth is that all of the money it makes was coming from the Damokan Group. I’d funnel their money in through the fruit parlor, then send it back out to them as payment to phony invoices. Dad would be crushed if he ever knew that, I already don’t know what he’ll do when the parlor stops having such high income. Hato and Joshu and Daiya would be crushed too. Not because of the parlor, because of me. Don’t you get it Gappy? Those kids all adore me. They’re already miserable right now, are you really gonna kick them while they’re down?”

Josuke clutched his collar over his heart. “Fine, Jobin Higashikata, your secrets are safe with me. But I have to say that conditionally, and ask you to stop sneaking around behind our backs!”

“Sneaking for what?” Jobin shrugged.

“This isn’t over. Josefumi’s Locacaca still exists in the land behind 3121 Hill.”

“You think so? When I saw you eating that fruit, you took the only one. Maybe another has grown by now, but it’ll be impossible to find out of all the trees in the orchard. You were trying to help Yoshikage Kira’s mother though, right?” Jobin looked forward, out of the pool room and straight through the hotel’s front doors into the outside world. “I suppose I can understand the pain of not having a mom. How’s about a swim to relieve the stress?”

“There… was only one?”

“Come on Josuke!” Yasuho tugged him away from the reclining Jobin. “We’re gonna find the Locacaca Tree if it’s the last thing we do!”

“Good luck, Josefumi.” Jobin waved them adieu. He scowled at the water once they left.

“The other Locacaca fruit are on that tree. If I feed one of those to Tsurugi when she contracts the Rock Syndrome, it could cure her without passing it on to someone else. Somebody will still have to die, but not because of our curse, it’ll get lifted, and then we’ll control that fruit! I need to figure out how to get to it, and especially how to get to it before he does!”

Josuke and Yasuho took an aside to themselves as they saw Mitsuba had vanished from the lobby, while Norisuke appeared to be tidying things up with his breakfast ensemble.

“Do you think what he said is right? Will you ever be able to harvest a Locacaca fruit?”

“I… I don’t know anymore, Yasuho. Tamaki Damo told me he was planning on getting them, and that Josefumi’s worked differently than a regular one. That fruit’s existence is a curse on the Higashikata Family land now, and I feel like I have to be the one to pay for it.”

“I don’t think so, Josuke.” Yasuho reached out and squeezed his hand. “You exist because of that fruit, we met because of that fruit. It’s… it’s a miracle. And I don’t care if it raises Hell, I’ll walk through Hell as long as it's with you.”

Yasuho pouted as her lover seemed apprehensive. “I need some time alone to think though. I’m going to take a trip to see Holy again, please stay here with Norisuke, and I’ll come back once everybody else is awake.” Yasuho had her chin lifted up and her lips taken by Josuke’s. Hell was a stranger to her like this, she could close her eyes and find infinite paradise like this. She nodded yes to him as subtly as she could, scared to break away and lose even a single second of him. “I love you, Yasuho.”

“What’s the big idea here?! I want to speak to someone in charge!”

The finale of Josuke’s heavy hearted walk to Tohoku Gakuin University Hospital had seen him strolling into the parking lot at the same time an ambulance came zooming by, its blaring siren serving as foreshadowing for how Josuke would feel once he had made his way into the inpatient ward.

It had been since he himself had last gotten out of the hospital that he had seen her, and he had thought he had gotten lost trying to navigate to Holy’s room number, but instead ended up discovering her in a neglected corner of the third floor. She was sealed up in a room that had an entryway resembling more the display at a zoo than a door, which was coated in dust and cobwebs. Through the large glass window he could see her inside, unconscious and strapped down to her bed, hands laying over her womb and wrapped in a thick cocoon of bandages.

“Hey hey.” His irritation at the scene was poked on by a voice coming up behind him. He turned on his heels and found himself making eye contact with a large wad of curled up hair, having to cast his gaze down to properly meet its owner. A darker skinned boy of roughly the same age as him, standing like a monument to condescension. He wore a vest which was paletted like a pumpkin patch and swaddled inside of a ghostly white lab coat, loose enough on him that the coattails hung down around the top of his ashen gray pants. “Do you think I could help you?”

“Do you work here?” Josuke nearly shook him at this prospect.

“Mmm well, I’m a student from the university who’s training here as an intern. I know 19 is young for a residency, but I’m sure I could sti-”

“Why was Doctor Joestar’s hospital room moved?!” Josuke cut off his monologue, content at just having someone to direct his rightfully earned ire towards. “Last time I was here she was in the other ward and walking awake and about, now she’s crammed back here and strapped to her bed!”

“Mmm, so who are you exactly?” The intern took a few steps back from him, pursing his lips and looking him up and down. “Are you family?”

“Yes,” Josuke stood firm and answered without hesitation, not allowing his unctuous opposite to have an effect on him. “She’s my mother.”

The intern laughed. “Hey, don’t I know you?” He started walking in a circle around Josuke. “Yeah yeah, we never formally met, but I remember you from when you were in this hospital before. Do you happen to be dating Yasuho Hirose?”

“Huh? Yeah, I am. And who exactly are you again?”

“My name’s Toru Yamagishi, and I’m-” he stopped back in front of Josuke, flaring out one side of his jacket like a matador cape, “her ex-boyfriend.”

“Yeah right, so you dumped her in high school?” Josuke elected to close the distance between them with small but looming steps. “Yasuho’s an angel on earth, so I don’t know what your whole problem is, but I think it’s better for both of us if you go get me a doctor to speak to.”

“Toru?”

Perhaps because of the blood rushing to his head, Josuke almost wasn’t aware of a third voice joining in on them, drifting over like smoke from an extinguished candle. He turned his neck around to look behind him, almost as if all the energy in the room had suddenly been flushed to that spot.

“The pharmacy is waiting for you to do in-patient medication rounds with them, Toru, get going.”

“Y-yes sir, sorry sir.” Toru gave a bow, suddenly intimidated at the presence in the room, and scurried off like a farm mouse from the paws of a protective cat.

His commander stood hunched with all his weight supported by an innocuous walking stick. He worn suit of black velvet fit for Sunday best, the hypothetical fan of dress shirt underneath hidden beneath a curtain of snow, a stark white scarf wrapped thrice around his neck. The only pop of color on the man were two bright pins shaped as suns with blossoming coronas - opposing coloured yellow-and-red and red-and-yellow - which hung on his lower pockets. His hands were concealed by latex gloves as his feet were sharp pitch dress shoes. A bowler hat similarly devoid of color took up most of his face, making it hard to catch a glimpse of his perfectly pale skin or burnt charcoal hair.

“And how may I be of assistance to you, young man?” Every word he said was deliberate, spoken with the weight of having been voted on by a high council of scholars.

“Depends, are you the doctor around here?” Josuke tried to keep his same attitude, but found something faltering about speaking in this man’s direction.

“Well, I am no longer on active duty, so if you need medical help, I recommend an escort to our emergency department. However you seem to be in fine shape to me, so I imagine I’m quite the man you’d want to speak to. I’m the director of this hospital, or as they say colloquially,” he lifted his head up, finer features still obscured as the glint of the sun bounced off a monocle worn over his right eye, “the Head Doctor.”

“Hospital director, huh? So are you the one responsible for Doctor Joestar being kept like this?!”

The Head Doctor swiveled his head to look in at Holy, and bobbed it back down as he took strained steps towards her room. “Ah yes, Doctor Joestar. One of the biggest tragedies of my career. She was a respected colleague of mine when I came to TGU, a model doctor and admired friend. At the time I had never imagined she would end up being under our care.”

“I feel like ‘care’ is a strong word.”

“Please do calm your temper young man, you must understand, Doctor Joestar was restrained by us just last night, because of an incident where she began eating her own fingers. It seems her condition caused her to believe they were food of some sort, and she had to be sedated to calm down.”

Josuke looked in at her, his legs jellifying as he imagined her being held down by some pencil neck nurse, or even worse, someone like Toru. “Well, why is she in this backroom to begin with?”

“Right, regarding that, I’m afraid we were forced to move her because the co-pays for her room bills, as well as the premiums on her healthcare, stopped being paid after August. In addition, the section of the hospital she was in is primarily attended to by Doctor Wu Tomoki, who’s not in charge of her case, and because of how her condition is degenerative and, likely, terminal, he petitioned that she should be moved so the easily accessible space could be used for one of his own patients.”

Josuke only made stammers, he was beginning to have his vision obscured by tears. “So there really is, nothing anybody wants to do?”

“There’s scarcely a lot that can be done, son. It’s heartbreaking for all of us.” The Head Doctor stood firm on his cane. “The doctor who was in charge of your mother’s case, Marukami Muni, he’s no longer here either,” he began to explain, Josuke unsure if that meant he was no longer at the hospital or no longer alive. “With him went any progress that could’ve been made with her, and the other staff are simply assigned to monitor her.” Josuke hadn’t been looking his direction any longer, but could tell from the rapping of cane on tile that he was approaching closer to him.

“This may be considered by some to be an ethical conflict of interest, but seeing you here moves me. I’d like to extend my hand and offer to pay for Doctor Joestar’s expenses myself. It’s the least I could do, as thanks for her contributions to this hospital historically, to make sure she can pass on comfortably. Rest assured, I’ll see to it that she’s returned to her previous standard of care.”

Josuke looked longingly at her for what seemed to him dozens of minutes more, not being able to muster the will to walk inside her room. By the time he turned around, spurred into reality by the buzzing of his phone, the Head Doctor was nowhere to be found.

He was being rung by Norisuke, and it tempered his wildfire emotions to hear him. He eagerly answered the phone, hoping to scoop up some words Daiya or especially Hato as well.

“Norisuke!”

“Hey JoJo.” Josuke could hear most of his usual energy drained, but the proud notes of the man were still carried through the phone. “Yasuho asked me to call you, she had to go home because her mom called her up, uhh, drunkenly, I’m afraid.”

“That’s, that’s alright, I’ll call her back later. How are you? I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to talk this morning.”

“Ah please Josuke, don’t give my old bones any time over your woman! You should cherish every second with her, you never know when you might never have another one again. Oh, what am I saying, all glum. Listen up, boy, the kids are all awake now and we’re going for a Great Higashikata Daycation to the Boardwalk! We’re all buying ice cream and new clothes to cheer up, you included! I’ll text you a meeting spot, so pay for a cab and get your buns down there, or else!”

Josuke managed to actually chuckle as he heard the fatherly rhythm be reinfused into Norisuke’s voice. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world. And there’s something I wanna talk to you about, Norisuke. Nothing bad or dangerous, not this time, but it’s about ‘something we absolutely have to get done.’”

Josuke left behind the shadows of the University Hospital, keeping his eyes under the brim of his hat as he hailed a taxi from the street corner, a melancholic song playing on its radio.

Picking through the cards, knowing what's nearby

The carvings on the face say they find it hard

And the engine's failed again, all limits of disguise

The humor's not the same, coming from denial

Oh-oh, I grieve in stereo, the stereo sounds strange

I know that if you hide, it doesn't go away

“My name is Josuke Higashikata, and I still don’t have any memories of my past, as Josefumi Kujo nor as Yoshikage Kira, and I may never. It seems like my life should enter a 'Dark Age', but, there are people I love in this world, and what I do have is ‘something that must be accomplished.’ The power of the ultimate equivalent exchange was once in my hands, and I need to get it back now, no matter what! I’m going to find Josefumi Kujo’s Locacaca if it takes scouring over every last tree on Earth, and I will save her from her fate!”

Chapter Text

Josuke wasn’t even able to step out of his cab before he was swiped up by Norisuke’s arms, who gave him a hug and paid off his fare for him.

To Josuke, the shore had always been a place of calmness and serenity, still water showing the beauty of the world in equal measure to symbolizing the horde of dangerous unknowns which his life sat on top of.

Such an association was obliterated by the Morioh Boardwalk. His senses were all overwhelmed as Norisuke walked him onto an expansive wooden ramp, which snaked for miles as the foundation to dozens of storefronts elbowing each other for tourists’ pocket money. The beach was below to their right, and it sprayed up mists of sand and salt which landed in Josuke’s mouth and fought for his attention against the smells of cotton candy and fried foods which were parachuting to his nose from the left. People hurrahed as they frolicked in the swash and butted each other in line for confection and giant stuffed animals.

Everything was so neon, poppy, and eye-catching that even Josuke took a minute to see the rest of the Higashikatas in the distance, sitting on a picnic bench in the shadow of a giant ferris wheel which was coated in lightbulbs ready to explode red and violet tint onto the boardwalk once the sun set.

Jobin was sat the farthest out, and was the first to start waving to his father and Josuke, after he poked Daiya on the shoulder to invite her to join him. By the time they made it within conversation distance, Jobin had retreated to the rear end of their table with a succulent orange from one of the baskets of fruit sat upon it in hand, perching himself next to Mitsuba, who was fingering up a glass of yellowish liquid which came from a bottle labeled “Chateau D’yquem.”

The younger family members were all sitting on the ends of the plank-seat facing Josuke, save for Joshu who was lounging on the edge of the table itself. Hato was hiding her eyes from the sky with the brim of a hat; Pebble was sitting on her lap, the rock dog enjoying being stroked by her absent-minded fingers. Parallel to them, Daiya had been playing with Tsurugi, and plundering sandwich wedges from an ornate woven basket.

“Hey dad,” Joshu immediately took to whining, staring discontently at the selection of snacks on their table. “Can we go get some good food now? We eat fruit every day, we should all get something fried to share.”

Daiya encouraged this sentiment. “I wanna go get some of that yatsuhashi! Although it’s probably not good for my figure…”

Hato replied “Shouldn’t we go shopping first? If you eat that stuff then go walking around, you’ll just get an upset stomach.”

“Nuh uh!” Daiya argued. “If we eat then shop, by the time we’re done looking we’ll be safe to go swimming. Although I guess we’re probably gonna take way more than half an hour to get through everything. Maybe we should just save going down to the water until the afternoon anyway.”

Joshu scoffed. “That 30 minutes after you eat thing is just pseudo-science!”

“Yeah yeah, I doubt you’ll go swimming anyway.” Daiya chuckled and not-so-whispered to Tsurugi “I don’t think he knows how.”

“And you do?!” Joshu nearly stood up on the table, he was so undignified.

“Settle down everyone!” Norisuke clapped his hands together, trying to elicit all of his children’s respective attentions. “I made us all a schedule of things to do together.”

“Jeez dad,” Hato shifted her place suddenly, making Pebble jump down and shake himself off. “Trying to micromanage things just goes against the boardwalk spirit. The point is to go wherever is calling for you, without thinking about it.”

“Dad,” Joshu interrupted, launching a finger pointing past his steers. “You put that museum with all the cowboy stuff on there, right?”

“Yawwwwn!” Daiya shoved her hand in the rough direction of Joshu’s face. “Seriously, who wants to spend a vacation staring at a bunch of junk from stuff that happened a hundred years ago? There’s way cooler stuff to look at!” She paused, and rubbed her chin in thought. “Although, I guess I can’t really look at anything anyway…”

“Oh come on, Aunt Daiya,” Tsurugi sweetly interjected. “ Iwanna go see the cowboys!”

Mitsuba called after, “Oh no you don’t!”

“Hey, come on mum!”

“You should’ve thought about that before I got sent your report card, munchkin.”

“Hey, leave the kid alone,” Joshu contested. “This is a vacation for everybody, she doesn’t have to worry about that! It’s still educational anyway, that stuff is part of our heritage you know!”

Mitsuba tutted at the insubordination. “The last thing she needs ‘educated’ on are some diseased riddle gun swinging Americans. Back me up, dear.”

She anticipated word from Jobin, who was staring past everyone else, scanning the various clusters of crowd in the distance.

“Dear?”

“Huh?” Jobin turned his neck around and snapped back into things. “Uh, right, listen to your mother,” he said, simultaneously shooting a wink towards Tsurugi.

“Well, where do you wanna go, JoJo?” Norisuke asked, with a face that was ready to burst with activity suggestions. “Do you think you’d like to try gambling? Or kites? I think you need a vacation more than any of us,” he said, which seemed to attract small but disgruntled glances from everybody sitting down.

“You shouldn’t invite boys inside the house, Yasuho.”

“Are you stupid?” Yasuho embarrassedly chastised her mother, who was stirring awake with a severe hangover thanks to the invasion of light to her spot on the couch via the open doorway. “And talk about the pot calling the kettl-”

Yasuho yelped as her mom jolted up and gingerly grabbed her wrist, perhaps not out of tenderness but due to her grip strength being lost with her sobriety. “I jus’, I jus’ don’t want you to be like me.”

A sweat bead wallowed down Yasuho’s forehead as she displaced her mother’s arm back down to a couch cushion. “Uh, thanks, mom, but you’ve literally seen me with my boyfriend. And that’s not even a guy!” Yasuho waved her arms in gesture towards the person she invited in, who was, in fact, Kei Kira. She had arrived clad in a dress shirt made up of narrow columns of vertical monochrome, her chest covered with a black velvet vest and a bow that visually continued from her shirt, and her hair pinned up in her hat.

“Hey,” Kei dryly said.

“Ignore her,” Yasuho insisted, bringing her further into the apartment.

“Why’d you call me anyway?” They arrived in the Hirose Family bathroom, where a small box printed with the image of a gasping woman above the words “colour remover” sat on the rim of the sink.

“I’m taking the colour out of my hair and need emotional support,” Yasuho explained as she started rigorously blushing her fading blue into quarters. “Someone needs to help me pick out a cute outfit too, and my bangs need cut…”

“Uh huh,” Kei took the time to admire the bulging eyes of a hand soap dispenser shaped like a frog. “Don’t you have friends?”

A grand second passed where the only sound presence was flowing water.

“Er, they were all busy,” Yasuho lied.

Kei laughed. “Right, silly me. Here I was thinking for a minute that you called me because you worried about me.”

Yasuho shook her head. “It’s not that, I knew you’d be able to take care of yourself.” She fiddled opened the box, procuring the squeeze bottle of dye remover from inside. “It’s just like, I feel like I don’t know how to talk to normal people anymore.” She winced at herself, unsure of if Kei would take offense to being lumped in with the not-normal people. “Although I guess speaking of that, what are you gonna do now? You said you aren’t going back to work for the Higashikatas.”

Kei shrugged. “Go clean for some other rich pricks, I guess. It’s not like there’s a shortage of them.”

“Make sure this looks evenly spread,” Yasuho asked of her while she let the bottle’s contents drip onto her hair.

“Hey Yasuho, what do you go to school for again?”

“Huh? Uh, humanities.”

“How come?”

A confused Yasuho silently signaled Kei to elaborate.

“I mean, you went into university right after high school, yeah? How’d you know that’s what you wanna do? I mean, what do you even do?”

“Well, I guess I mainly like the history classes, tracking what popped up where and when. I wrote a really cool report about how different languages are all related to each other. I guess maybe I should’ve went for an anthropology major instead.”

“Never too late to switch,” Kei suggested.

Yasuho sighed, finishing up the bottle. “I dunno, man, most days now I can barely even justify going to class at all. It all feels like a different world compared to what I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You’re a smart kid, and dropping out? Can’t say I recommend it.”

Another small moment of stunned awkward silence. “I’m sorry, did you-"

“Yep.” Kei stretched her arms and threw off her hat. “I went to study chemistry when I was your age,” she said, Yasuho having to resist the urge to remark on the fact that Kei was only her senior by three years, “but when my mom got sick I couldn’t bring myself to be there anymore, and dedicated myself to looking after her. Researching her illness, and then, going after the Higashikatas…” Kei pulled the pin out of her hair, making it fall down around her shoulders in staticky bunches. “I’m gonna miss that blue, you know. I wonder if I should get my hair done. Do you think I’d look good with strawberry blonde?”

“I dunno,” Yasuho flopped on the tile floor like a dog waiting to be petted. “Honestly I just dyed my hair when I was upset about getting dumped, and now I’m going back ‘cus Josuke encouraged me.”

Kei tutted at her. “Ah ah ah, doing everything for the men in your life, that’s no good. So good at finding paths, but unsure of where to take yourself.”

Yasuho bit her lip. “It’s not like that, or, it’s not with Josuke. I decided I want to be by his side, no matter what it costs me.”

“I’m glad for you.” Kei had a smirk, but only on her lips and not in her eyes. “Does that mean when you’re done with me you’re gonna go running with him to play around with the Higashikatas?"

Yasuho fidgetted with her fingers, trying to stop herself from disturbing her hair on accident. “I think, you misjudged them. They’re as burdened as the rest of us are in this.”

Kei laughed, honestly though sardonically. “Yeah, they’re really burdened up in their high tower. Maybe they’ll get knocked down a peg again now, though. Really I have half a mind to go with you, I wanna see the old man get all sweaty wondering if she's gonna show up and make a scene during their vacation.”

Yasuho stilled. “If who is?”

“Josuke, are you sure you wouldn’t like to buy any new clothes?” Norisuke asked, gesturing his wallet to an array of novelty t-shirts and bootleg jeans begging for attention from window displays. “You wear the same thing everyday.”

Josuke shook his head. “It’s really alright; These sailor clothes are sort of the foundation of my identity, I guess.”

“Well, you have to at least let me help you spice it up a bit!” Norisuke dragged him by the hand to a rack bordering the walkway and a jewelry store. “Here, what about these?” He pointed out a set of pins which formed a heart shape out of two pieces each, which the store’s stout, elderly proprietor took liberty in pushing onto Josuke’s shoulders.

“I’ll ring you up right over there,” she said, expertly removing their autonomy to decline the purchase. “3000 yen- no wait. For you, Mr.Higashikata, 2500,” she explained, not disclosing that the retail price for the pins was only 2000 yen.

While Norisuke bent down to use a card reader, Josuke looked back out to the people walking by.

And the one who wasn’t.

In the midst of the bustle and movement one woman stood as unchanging as the giant wooden pillars holding up the boardwalk. Her presence was felt as an imposing rainy sky, even from a distance, projected perfectly by the two curlicues of storm cloud black hair which bounced on her shoulders. She was wearing a mesmerizing geometric print shirt with some sort of pin on the collar, but it was too far for Josuke to see what it was depicting. Around the back her torso was wrapped in a dark fur vest which matched with the small bag she had swung over her shoulder. The monochrome colors were broken up by her painted lips, the lens of her sunglasses, and the poppy fuchsia pants held together with a weary drawstring.

Josuke tensed up, coming to find strange looking people staring at him to be a bad omen, but after an adjustment of her shades she scoffed to herself and moved on, walking out of view just as Norisuke turned back around.

“See, you look real spiffy now, JoJo!” Norisuke patted his pins down before his pocket went abuzz with a phone call.

“Where are you at?” Josuke caught the tail end of Hato’s sentence as Norisuke put his phone on speaker.

“I’m buying Josuke some jewelry. You have to come see him! He looks like a whole new man!”

“They’re just shoulder pins,” Josuke clarified in the background.

“Well, come help me decide what swimsuit to get! Jobin doesn’t have any taste!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming,” Norisuke announced to everybody as he walked back into the crowd. “Josuke, why don’t you go find Joshu, Daiya, and Tsurugi? We’ll catch up to you later.” he said as he hung up, and Josuke saw his phone flash with a couple of photos texted by Hato.

They were of prospective outfits, Josuke was able to take note of one neat set of pastel pink pants and a matching jacket which wrapped around a white shirt dotted with black hearts, a pattern which bled onto an ascot tied into a bow around the chest.

Josuke nodded and split away, unaware of the woman from earlier lurking on his trail.

“Caato Higashikata,” Kei answered, matter-of-factly.

Yasuho did a double take, connecting the dots of whom she spoke of. “The Higashikatas’ mom?”

“Mhm. She’s out now.”

Yasuho tilted her head, allowing her hair’s blue to catch light one last time. “What are you talking about? She’s dead.”

“What are you talking about?” Realization dropped on Kei’s face. “Wait a minute, do you not know?” Kei started moving with great energy, angered at injustice but excited to tell someone about it. “I can’t believe they suppressed it so much that even someone close to them like you can not know about it. Hell, I suppose the younger kids probably don’t even know.”

“Know what?!” Yasuho yelled, bugbear’d by the cryptic talking.

“Listen to me, Yasuho.” Kei looked into her eyes with the feverishly dour passion she hadn’t seen since they were together at the Wall Eyes, standing over a tiny pit of fruit. “The Higashikata Family’s matriarch only disappeared from the public’s eye 15 years ago. She did not die to save her child from the family’s curse; Until yesterday, Caato Higashikata has been incarcerated for the murder of a child.”

Josuke had hunted down the younger kids to a UNIQLO outlet, discovering Daiya using a magnifier to inspect the pink-and-black tartan of a lace trimmed skirt laid out on a bench.

“So Joshu, you think this skirt looks cute with the garters?” Daiya pointed generally towards a pile of other clothes she had amassed: A long pair of black socks and the aforementioned garters which crisscrossed into a metal diamond to hold them up, a smart white dress shirt, wool black vest, and a belt - buckled by another diamond shape - to cinch it all together.

“Yeah, yeah!” Joshu encouraged while watching Tsurugi play a game on his phone, draining its precious battery. He had already donned a new, deep wine colored shirt tucked into his pants and etched with drawings of tree limbs, and a positively massive bright red coat which reached from his shoulders all the way to his ankles. “Are you really gonna feel like having to match all this stuff you’ve been picking out though?”

“Ehhh I’ll just make sure they’re all hung up together; That’s what I do with my uniforms.” Daiya collected everything and started skipping away “I’m gonna try it all on!”

As she exited earshot for a dressing room, Tsurugi looked up from her game and alerted the room to Josuke’s appearance, abandoning the phone along with Joshu to run up to him.

“Don’t leave it on the floor!” Joshu chastised to deaf ears.

“Hey, Josuke,” Tsurugi’s face was pensive and uneasy, seeming to plead for something intangible. “What’s gonna happen now? We killed all of those guys who had the Locacaca, and dad is really out of it!” She was literally shaking as she spoke, and seemed to be driving herself into a panic.

“Tsurugi, snap out of it! It’s gonna be okay, there’s still a Locacaca growing in the orchard!”

Tsurugi grew still and quiet, forlorn. “Josuke, you were trying to make a Locacaca for somebody else who’s sick, right?”

Josuke gently nodded. “Yes, my old self’s mother.”

“What…” Tsurugi looked at her feet, then snapped her neck back up to look Josuke in the eyes. “What happens if you get it, and there’s only enough to save one of us?”

“Don’t be silly. The Locacaca is a fruit, there will be seeds inside to grow another one.”

Tsurugi shuffled her feet. “Well, what happens if there isn’t enough time to grow another?”

“Tsurugi, it’s fine. My mom… she’s been living with her illness for years now, she could hold out for longer. And you still haven’t gotten the Rock Syndrome yet, right?”

Tsurugi didn’t say anything, seemingly trying to formulate an answer before the two of them were interrupted by the background noise of a changing room door opening. Following it came Daiya’s shoes clacking on the floor before she stumbled, gasped, and dropped something - presumably her magnifier - on the floor.

Daiya crouched and began to feel around for where she had dropped it, only for it to be placed in her grasp by the hands of a passerby, an occurrence she was far from unused to.

“Here you go dear,” she heard the good Samaritan say. She was an older woman, one who’s spirit had not dimmed with age but whose speech nonetheless felt driven by somber.

“Thanks,” Daiya said as she stood back up, intending to go back about her business, but she was interrupted, again by the woman.

“You are, Daiya Higashikata?” She asked, this also far from an uncommon follow up, albeit she sounded less like she was aiming to finesse a rich girl out of 2000 yen for helping her poor pitiful soul, and more as if she was simply amazed and appreciative to be in her presence.

“Sure am!”

The woman let out a sort of breathy awe at her, and unknown to Daiya was starting to reach out like she wanted to put a caring hand to her or twirl around her sidelocks, and admire how they were the same color as her own hair. “You look so grown up… You’re very pretty.” A laugh managed to throw off the chains keeping it in her heart to make itself known, and she smiled like a soul condemned to one hundred centuries of desert who just crawled upon an oasis. “Those clothes are pretty cute, but you should get a size up on that vest. Right now it’s too tight and it makes your boobs look huge.”

Daiya took a step back from her, totally embarrassed. “Excuse me?”

“Hey, you perverted old crone!” Joshu had overheard the exchange and was dashing towards the rescue, his jacket flopping behind him like a poor man’s cape. “Where do you get off talking to my sister like that?”

“My goodness! You must be Joshu!” The woman held her hands over her heart as she looked him over. “I’m happy you finally learned to style your hair. Your clothes are nice too, but save that coat for winter. If you wear it in this weather it’s gonna make you sweat and stink.”

“You know, where I’m from, taking off your coat means you’re getting ready to fight,” Joshu smugly postulated, not mentioning that “where I’m from” meant “in my action movie DVDs.” “Are you saying you wanna throw?”

“Don’t act like a hardass,” the stranger scolded, before she looked over his shoulder and saw the other two joining the fray.

“Why hello, might you be Daiya’s boyfriend?” she asked Josuke, before she focused her eyes and got a better look at him. “No wait, you must be… What was it? Josefumi?”

“Wha-” Josuke stopped, letting Tsurugi apprehensively pass him. “Who are you?” he wasted no time in asking.

“And you are,” a tear came to the woman’s eye. “Tsurugi.”

She began to walk towards the small girl, but suddenly fell flat on her face.

“Oh damn, be careful,” Joshu spoke in faux-concern as he walked around the culprit, a floor tile which had miraculously come loose from its place in an orderly square. Joshu’s hand glowed purple. “There must be a bad spot on the floor here.”

His devious plot had done nothing to deter her, in fact all it did was place her at eye-level with the child, which she used to take a long look into her green eyes before she stood back up. “I dropped my cards, honey.” She pointed down to a deck of palely lime green cards sitting at Tsurugi’s mary janes. “Will you pick them up for me please? But be careful holding them, they’re very special.”

Tsurugi’s little fingers began gripping onto the deck, when a call came from behind her.

“Tsurugi?”

Her mother had appeared, wearing a transparent silk gown over a black sweater. Her face was appropriately shadowed by a wide hat.

“What’s going… on…”

Her words revved down, while Norisuke, Jobin, and Hato appeared behind her.

The woman walked past Tsurugi and Josuke, and the latter finally took notice of what exactly was drawn on that button she wore on her chest.

It was a pear inside of a hollow, circular apple, an insignia sketched into its bottom bell. It was the logo of the Higashikata Fruits Company.

The woman stood between the two quartets: Elders and Youngers, Remembering and Ignorant.

“Leave.” Hato took the initiative to speak, she strutted right up to the woman, she peeled off the shaded glasses she picked up along the way to look at the woman who was no stranger to her with wet, glaring eyes. “Leave now, and never show your face here again.”

“Hato-”

“Leave!” Hato shouted, gaining the eyes and ears of everybody else in the shop.

“This can’t be happening,” Norisuke said to himself as he rushed past them, sweating. “Come on kids,” he ordered, scooping up Tsurugi and smacking the card deck she held to the ground, “We have to get out of here.” He took Daiya’s arm with his free hand and began dragging the girls out of the scene. “Let’s move, Joshu.”

“Dad, what’s-”

“I said come on!”

Josuke looked over to the married couple, while Hato and the apparently-not-a-stranger continued to get into a red-faced tear-fueled shouting match. “Jobin, Mitsuba, who in the world is this woman?”

Jobin smiled, which netted a look of shock and disgust from Mitsuba. She walked towards Josuke and grabbed his hands.

“Josuke… You’re the same as me. You want to take on the name ’Higashikata’, right?” He nodded. “Then it is your burden to know, that woman is Jobin and the others’ mother, and she’s a murderer.”

Hato’s cries, Norisuke and Joshu shouting at each other, crowd goers gossiping around them, seagulls scooping up dropped food bits to shove down their beaks, pop music playing over loudspeakers. All of the noise turned to static in Josuke’s ears.

“Their… mother?”

Mitsuba frowned. “The younger kids don’t remember her, Joshu was only 4 when the arrest happened; Daiya hadn’t even lost her sight yet. Norisuke never told them about her, he wanted her to vanish forever.”

She grimaced and looked back at her husband. “Are you gonna make me do it? Tell him like you told me, tell him her sin?! Tell him-”

“The story of Caato Higashikata,” Kei began, “started when her eldest son Jobin was 13 years old, and started to be afflicted with the Rock Syndrome…”

Chapter Text

I: Mother

Lush green grass was trampled by rubber as a silver car rolled into a comfy spot overlooking the coast. It was a swan song for this particular vehicle, as within a month or two its measly four seats would no longer be enough for the Higashikata Family. Soon a third child would have to be strap up in a baby seat in the back row. With the family’s wealth there would be no issue upgrading to a larger, nicer car; One fit for a family of five four.

The grass that car sat on was a curse, the layers of rock hiding underneath packed soil were begging to claim one for their own. Would the eldest child’s seat be left empty, or would they replace one of their parents in the passenger’s? It was an ultimate, inescapable dilemma.

And she dearly wished she could ignore it. Nobody on the entire Earth that day desired a normal family picnic more than Caato Higashikata. She tried her best to feel engaged with her daughter shoving a doll’s head in her face like it was food, to feel lovingly towards her husband telling their son about the name they picked out for his soon-to-be little brother, as he chased him up a tall tree.

That rotten tree.

Two of them, actually. They were conjoined by their trunks, a gemel, as Norisuke taught her on one of her first dates; Back then his name was Josuke Higashikata, and she flirtatiously called him JoJo about 100 times in a day. It was a morbid sight masked in beauty, like a microcosm of the entire city. Her eyes traced rancid pine wood down to the soil which salted the pure Earth and stones which trapped the souls of the condemned.

The Twin Pines stood on top an arch of stone which was hollowed out, and displayed an isolated hokora, the ornately carved wood of the miniature shrine sitting on a chiseled monolith which was as tall as a man, sharp edges and smoothed surfaces sticking out like a blight against the scarred, cracked, beautifully imperfect nature which surrounded it.

He took her down there once, only because she asked. He tried to distract from the mood by spinning her a yarn about how the shrine and the monolith were constructed by his grandfather.

When he pressed his hands against the column, its front panel revolved around to reveal itself as a hidden door to a perfectly spiraling pathway which traveled deep underground. At the bottom it stretched for a few steps, and led to a large wooden crate. It was nailed shut, and nothing out of the ordinary in any other circumstance. She understood looking at it, one day she would kneel in front of this box and she would die. JoJo’s mother had, his grandmother had.

At the time, she didn’t think about it. She would pray and wish in every means she could to have a daughter.

This would grant her enough time to see all her children grow up at least a little. She wanted to have four of them, it was always a comfort to have things come in four. Earth, wind, air, and fire. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter. North, West, East, and south. The four operations she was taught in arithmetic and the Four Gospels she was taught in theology. The culture of the Orient she had read about in university had four great novels from China and the Four Symbols which guarded the sky.

Her husband, the fourth generation heir.

The four suits in a deck of cards.

Josuke’s name was derived because all the men in his family had begun starting their names with Jo decades ago. He made a hobby of going through books of names and picking out anything that started with a kanji you could read as “Jo.” He put a lot of thought into it, sorting through them with some delightfully-him mental algorithm, and came out with his pick of four: Jobin, Joshu, Jotaka, and Joichi.

With that in place, she got him to agree that since their male children would follow this tradition, she could pick out any names she wanted for if they had girls. And so, as an exchange for her inevitable pain and suffering, she allowed herself to be silly and pick out four names to match her fascination with deck games, a literal house of cards: Hato, Daiya, Suki, and Bou.

So the family lore had it, girls born to the Higashikata - while at risk even if not the first born - would not suffer from it until adulthood. She would have enough time with all of them, enough time to be happy before she accepted her fate of death.

Hers of course. Not her husband’s, not his sisters’, not his father’s. Not anybody else. Her predecessors had killed themselves for their children and everybody silently assumed from her first appearance that she would follow suit. She would not run from the man she loved, and she would not run from the children she yearned for. Please God, just let them have a girl first.

On the 6th of July, 1979, Jobin Higashikata was born.

She cried. She cried and screamed and threw up. It was like her pregnancy tried to kill her before she’d have to think about it. She loved that boy with all her heart but didn’t stop crying for eight years. She would never leave his side, the boy’s father had to beg her just to let him go to school. She couldn’t handle herself in his absence.

She went through therapy, trying to come up with words to dance around what no one on the outside looking in could understand. She took pills, and read, and prayed, and stared at herself for hours, and one day she looked her son in the eyes without breaking down, and she told her husband she wanted another baby.

She was now carrying her third child, thankfully expecting labor before Jobin’s condition deteriorated. She looked at her eldest, who had been stricken meek, tired, and with gaps in his memory. She rubbed her hands along her baby bump, supposing there was no chance for there to be surprise twins still.

She cursed herself, and her weakness, because it was so much easier to than to blame the Higashikata Family name, or the unseen spectres haunting them, or the twisted world which offered no understanding, acknowledgement, or recourse for what they went through.

It could just be her fault that she would never get to have her fourth baby.

II: Child

“These are chocolates from Hokkaido. My family went on vacation.”

Jobin’s hand was released from his mother’s grasp as she grabbed the box presented by one of the dozens of kids in the same ensemble of beige faux-utility clothing which he wore. They were all around the same age, but Jobin’s stature came up to their necks at best. The gift-giver was Takita, a rat faced boy who’s presence Jobin dreaded.

“I hope I got enough for your whole family.”

“Thank you,” Caato said, holding the box over her heart with one arm while exerting herself to squat down and tie up a misbehaving shoelace on Jobin’s right foot.

“Mom, cut it out.” He meekly tried to stop her. “I can do this myself.”

She lovingly ignored him while rattling off a series of reminders for him to try his best to keep track of, all of which were jotted down on a piece of note paper for when he’d inevitably fail: “Your wallet is in your left shirt pocket, and your handkerchief is in your left pants pocket.” “When you put on your hat, fasten the strap around your chin.” “Take your medicine at 9 o’clock and 12 o’clock.” “Keep the receipts if you buy anything.”

“Don’t worry ma’am,” a scout master reassured as he took pull of Jobin, almost making him topple over from the resistance of his overstuffed backpack. “We’ll all be back by one in the afternoon. For today’s Adventure Kids Meet, we’re teaching the children how to light a fire without using matches. And Takita here will watch over Jobin real good, won’t you son?”

“Yessss sir!” Takita gave a two-fingered salute.

Another counselor called to get going as all the children waved goodbye to their parents and were sorted into an even row.

Jobin had timidly followed Takita - along with a lousy kid named Daian who orbited around him - into a quiet clearing off the hiking trail. He took to occupying himself by flipping over stones and watching the insects scuttling out from under them with fascination, while Takita lazily perched himself on the peak of a large, slanted stone.

“Hey, Daian,” he called out, attracting his companions to be gazed down on by him. He slid down the stone and flipped his hat off. “Come feel my hair. I bought a shampoo that people in show business use, it’s called non-si-ly-cone.” He bowed his hair out to Daian, who was uninterested. “Now it’s all shiny and silky; Wanna feel it?”

Enticed by the boasting, Jobin reached his hand out, unnoticed by Takita’s cheekily shut eyes until they started to rub against the fringe of his ringlet clustered hair.

Takita opened his eyes halfway and backhanded Jobin, searing his cheek with a burning slap mark. “I’m sorry, did I mention you?”

Daian cackled at Jobin as he stumbled backwards, then dragged him by his backpack like he was a big cat shaking around a hunt of prey in its jaws.

“Hey Jobin, did you get the stuff we asked you to?” Jobin turned back to look at Takita, who approached him expectantly. He sighed and dropped his backpack to the ground to begin rummaging through it. He produced a set of his mother’s intimates, swiped from the family laundry pile. Daian was laughing his ass off at the sight of Jobin handling them, while Takita eagerly snatched them out of his hands.

“Man, so, these are real? Your mom wears these, and puts her boobs in these?”

Jobin nodded, and handed over a disposable camera, purchased cheap at a supermarket.

“And there’s photos of your mom showering on here?” Daian asked, and Jobin nodded again. He snickered, and side-eyed his partner, who was still running Caato’s underwear through his fingers.

He slapped him on the back of the head, making Caato’s bra swing by its strapped like a pendulum around his wrist.

“Get a grip, you freak. We’re supposed to be laughing at that rich bitch, not getting a hard on for her.”

All three of them jumped like crickets when the bushes behind them rattled with footsteps from a fourth person. It was another Adventure Kid, one slightly older than them: a busybody bob-cut girl named Rei.

“What are you guys doing?” she questioned, indignantly.

“What? Everything’s A-okay over here,” Takita said, nearly tying his hands behind his back in a shuffle to hide what he was holding. “What do ya think we’re doing?”

She looked into Jobin’s wet eyes as he wobbled on trembling legs.

“Come here, Jobin, I’m borrowing you for a second.” She forcefully took him away from the duo, making a point to get possession of the camera he had as well.

“Jobin, listen, the way those kids treat you isn’t right. You have to come talk to the counselors about it with me.”

“Jobin! You fucking shit!” Nightfall had overtaken Morioh. All Jobin wanted to do was peacefully walk home, when he had gotten jumped by Takita, who was foaming at the mouth seething. “You gave that hussy your camera and now she wants to get me and Daian kicked out of the scouts! All ‘cause we’re ‘using you’ and ‘manipulating your feelings’, like we owe respect to some rich brat with holes in his head!” He began dragging Jobin down the sidewalk by his collar, sweeeping his legs out when they tried to kick away against the pavement. They struggled under cover of moonlight for nearly ten minutes, until Jobin was slammed against the immaculately eggshell pickett fence of a home he had never seen before.

“This is where that Rei girl lives,” Takita explained as he dove both hands into one of his deep hiking pants pockets and pulled out an item from each; One was a small lighter, and the other a canister of oil. “If it weren’t for her it’d be fine. We’re good buddies, right Jobin? She’s trying to ruin me for no reason! Just ‘cause she’s a jealous bitch! We heard she went to the movies, so Daian is gonna go beat the shit out of her, and we’re giving her a warning and torching her bedroom! Go light it,” he barked, “it’s the left one on the end.”

Jobin shook, looking at the things placed in his hands, trying to comprehend what he was being told to do.

“No…” He whispered.

“What? What’d you say!?”

“N-no! Are you crazy!? Why do I have to do that anyway?”

“Because, nobody would ever suspect a brain dead priss like you! You’ll probably forget this even happened tomorrow! You don’t think I wish I could? If that stupid Rei gets her way then everybody will be talking shit on me forever! All for some stupid panties!”

“Don’t…” Jobin took a deep breath. “Don’t you talk about me! You have no idea what it’s like being me!”

Takita punched him square in the face, sending him straight to the ground as he dropped the light and oil, the latter partially spilling out onto his clothes. Takita jumped on him and kept brutally pounding his face in. “You spilled gas on yourself, dipshit. If you don’t go light that fire, I’ll light you on fire, you hear me? Is that what you want, your mama to find your charred up corpse tomorrow morning? Huh? Huh?”

Jobin had begun wailing and sobbing, short life nearly flashing before his eyes as Takita tauntingly threatened to flick the lighter.

A flame ignited, but not from the lighter.

It came out of Jobin’s arm, a hot orange streak piercing the darkness like molten metal. It had awoken.

Like it was being guided, Jobin jabbed his arm up to Takita’s neck, fingers grazing it as the flesh on his jaw suddenly erupted into bursting, pus filled scars which exploded blood vessels under his ripping skin and sent a crimson mess pouring out onto his scarf. He slumped over, lightly smacking against the ground as his body fell on top of Jobin, weighing him down like he was Sisyphus forced to push a mighty boulder. His arms were wrapped in light and he miraculously gained the strength to push him off.

He looked over his shoulder, and almost passed out at the sight of the figure which had assisted him. It loomed over him, staring at him with eyes that were hidden behind huge metal goggles, its boiled lips pursed like it was studying its new master. Its body was made of burnt flesh reconstituted with rusted steel.

Caato Higashikata was preparing herself a cup of tea. Her husband was away on business, and she had just tucked her daughter in for bed. Now if only Jobin would hurry up and-

She turned her head at the sound of the sliding door into the kitchen being rushed open. She was just starting to formulate a scolding speech about being out late and slamming the doors when she took note of his condition: Wet, bruised, stinking to high heaven, and scared.

“Mom… Help…”

III: Inheritor

She was driving in a frenzy, squinting to make out details of the road which were lost to her refusal to turn on her headlights, God forbid anybody see them. Jobin was sitting in the passenger’s seat, muttering to himself over and over, and in the backseat was the terrible monster who had hurt him. He was still alive, still breathing. She should’ve guessed that her own child would obtain a Stand, one which she could tell was showcasing the true boy who lived underneath the quivering, underdeveloped waif consumed by incurable ill. The boy who would get to live his rightful life soon.

She whipped the car into their destination with such force that the tires would’ve surely squealed like pigs if they were still on a road. She opened her car door and took a deep breath, kicking off her shoes and leaving them behind to embrace the cold tickle of grass beneath her.

She looked ahead, her time to enter the terrible tree was finally here, but she would not be inheriting the role of victim.

She opened Jobin’s door and took him in her embrace, listening to him cry. “Mom, what are we doing? You have to call an ambulance, I did something to Takita!”

“Shhh… My little angel. You’ve done nothing wrong. The only thing you are, is a Higashikata. A brilliant and indomitable soul consumed by a curse. A smother to your light. I’ve cried for you every day this year, I’ve seen your little mind get restarted day after day, never to know that it will tear us apart from each other.”

She faced that shrine, a dark flame kindling in her eyes.

“Once upon a time, there was a man named Johnny Joestar, who had a magical talent for riding horses. He lived in this very city, with his beautiful family. But one day, his wife was overtaken by a horrible, incurable disease. Johnny Joestar was so taken by grief that he learned how to use an immeasurable source of power to save her. He practiced for years to master that power, and when the time was right he used it to carve his way into a mystic cave underneath the tallest and most beautiful tree he saw, a set of twins who had fused together. And he set his wife underneath them to save her.”

Jobin had fallen silent, captivated entirely by his mothers words as they danced together across the somber wind.

“But when they reunited, he discovered that her disease had gone to their son. Johnny Joestar was so remorseful over what he had done to his beloved child that he scooped him up on his most favourite horse and rode all the way to the Mutsukabe Prominade,” she hiccuped and stood deep in thought for a second, “that’s where I grew up,” she added with a small smile. “He rode all the way there and used his power to give the disease to himself instead. And ever since that day, Johnny Joestar’s ghost has wandered Morioh, taking and giving in equal measure. Do you understand what that story means, Jobin?”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, to no response from him.

“It means that in life, nothing can be gained without somebody losing. You can’t destroy the bad things in the world, you can only make them be taken elsewhere. You have to climb to the top of the world, and let everyone else fall to the bottom in your stead.”

“I… I don’t understand. That’s not fair…”

“Fairness is no part of nature, Jobin.” Caato walked with him and returned to the car, dragging Takita out of his sprawl on the back seats. “This boy here, is somebody who belongs to the bottom by his nature. He is but a worm, his only chance to touch the sky is being eaten alive by a feathered bird, otherwise he can only sink to the bottom of the Earth.”

Jobin’s mouth hung open as he looked at Takita’s twitching eyelids. “Just like the insects…” he whispered in awe to himself.

“The cave Johnny Joestar dug into is here, Jobin, inside of that pillar underneath the hokora. You’ve gotten yourself a guardian who will Stand by your side forever more. Call out to it, and use your strength to take this horrid boy underneath there with you, and it will protect you from what lurks down there. Take him to the end, there’s a crate down there with a ‘power’ inside. And then when you come up, we’ll watch the sunrise together, and it will be a new dawn for the Higashikata Family.

Jobin’s breaths were deep, but in a different way than the asthmatic breaths he was used to. The aura of his Stand produced enough light to see inside the oppressive tightness of the burrow. He reached an opening - a wide open space he thought seemed like a house - after what felt like an eternity. He planted Takita down next to him, both leaning against aged, dried out wood which smelt of forgotten rot. He waited, for what, he didn’t know.

Jobin screamed. His panic, exhaustion, overwhelmed state of being turned to sheer pain as it felt like a row of hot blades were being driven in his skin by something which was trying to hollow him out.

It spoke to him.

Jobin came up healthy and happy. He was no longer tired, or confused, or meek. He had been reborn, all of his woe spilt onto Takita, who was now a corpse which was withered up into a cruel stone effigy of himself.

Caato drove them 20 random kilometers out onto the farmland and chucked Takita in a ditch.

And as they covered him up for good with mounds of potting soil, Caato Higashikata cried and screamed to the heavens all over again, this time out of gratitude, and out of victory. Her third child would know her, her fourth child would be bared, and they would all be together forever and ever more. She had broken the curse.

IV: Vilomah

For a couple days the news talked all about the micro-scandal of the Morioh Adventure Kids. HFC heir Jobin Higashikata bullied by two fellow scouts, and defended by a brave girl named Rei Kano who was viciously beaten by the perpetrators. Daian Nagano, the boy who assaulted Rei, was sent to juvenile hall due to the perceived heinousness of his actions. He testified that his friend, Takita Yasutake, had planned to light a fire outside of Rei’s bedroom in order to further intimidate her and her family, but the second boy had run away in order to escape the consequences of his actions.

He never returned.

Once every year or two, his family would get a newspaper to put out a piece about the missing boy, but the public had little care for the well being of a crass, disrespectful, tormenting monster of a child, and his name was forgotten to history.

Norisuke Higashikata slumped back in the too small, brokenly-padded chair which SDJ had provided for him, whistling away the minutes until his flight overseas. He glanced his eyes around, hoping to find something to distract him from time and his mind.

Some gentle trickles of water caught his ears. It was a wishing fountain, smatterings of change glinting on submerged tiles.

He fished in his belongings for a coin of 1000 yen, something he had received from his mother as a young boy, during the Tokyo Olympics when the government had minted fifteen million of the exclusive denomination. He traced his fingers over its worn composition, remembering her smiling face.

“I wish that my son would heal and my wife would live.”

He flicked into the crystal clear water, and wished it farewell and the best of luck on its journey to carry his wish to the heavens.

That night he dreamt of his mother, before her visage was torn away by a ringing phone which jutted him awake in his hotel bed.

“Hello?” he coughed, grabbing the phone off the receiver with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other.

“Mr. Higashikata, we’ve received an international call for you, sir.”

“God damn, what’s happened already?" He was imagining that “international” meant his homeland.

“She says it’s your wife, sir.”

“No. No no no.”

“Put her on, then!” he yelled with more anger than he’d like acting to cover up desperation. He felt the walls starting to move in towards him, unsure if he should be expecting news of birth or death

The phone clicked.

“Josuke…” His heart sank as he heard his name, said by his sweet Caato. Just from one word he could see the tear streaks on her cheeks.

“I'm Here, dear. What’s wrong?”

“Tonight, Jobin and I went out to the orchard, and passed the Twin Pines… I thought of Johnny Joestar, and I broke down and prayed for Jobin to be cured…” She took several heavy sobs, each one ripping Norisuke’s heart apart.

“And he was…”

The walls closing in on him collapsed into nothing, he was flung into a cosmic void, stars shining bright on him from light-years away. He held the phone closer. “What?”

“We… We did it dear. He’s normal. He, he’s fit, and sharp, and can remember everything perfectly.” She took a huge, relieved breath. “Under his eyes, there’s two scars, like canyons stuck on him. They were left behind, everything else is… gone.”

He almost screamed. Wishes do come true.

A second voice appeared on the other end of the phone. “Dad…” It was Jobin, but no longer wheezing and constrained. He spoke with brass, proud and strong, like a lion stretched in the son. “I don’t know what happened, but, I woke up with mom holding me, and everything felt… better.”

“I’m,” he ran his fingers through his dusty hair, trying to think of what to say. “I’m sorry I’m not with you.”

Caato shushed him, and even the air from her lungs sounded perfect to him. “Josuke, we’re gonna be safe now. And, sooner than later, I want us to have a fourth baby.”

He laughed, slapping himself on the head and feeling how much he had been breaking into sweats. “I do too. I want to be with you forever, you and me and our family.”

Norisuke sipped down a delicious brew of coffee as he took solace in the high afternoon sun, blissful with the view he could see outside his patio doors: His Jobin, goofing around on roller skates while Hato chased after him and begged to have a turn. His love, swaddling their sweet Daiya and yelling at little Joshu not to unfold her laundry.

He could look at this sight forever, and only be made happier when he went out to join them.

Unfortunately, he was snapped away by a knock on his door. Visitors, hardly unusual for their socialite selves on a crisp autumn day.

Waiting for him on the other side of the door he found a merry band of young adults, one clearly designated to be the leader, a pencil necked man in a dress shirt.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Higashikata.” He opened with a bow, and spoke stiltedly. “My apologies for bothering you, but you see, I live nearby and I’ve been raising some alligator snapping turtles, they’re a species from the United States, and today two of them escaped to the outside. We have a pretty good idea of where they would’ve gone to, and it happens to be in the middle of your farmland, so we would like to ask if you could take us out on the property so we could search for them before they start hibernating; If we lost track of them then the next season they could start breeding, which would devastate the ecosystem.”

“Oh, of course, my workers have an ATV we could use on the end of the estate, if you could just let m-”

“Ah, please sir, understand we’re in a bit of a rush.”

Norisuke rolled his eyes and followed the bunch down his driveway, shouting to the backyard about how he’d be back soon.

As the Sun was saying her goodbyes for the day, Norisuke Higashikata returned to his household, frantic, muttering about a surprising vacation for the kids. The older two ran cheerily off to pack while Caato got her husband alone in the kitchen.

“Josuke, what’s gotten into you?” She grabbed his wrists, and could feel his heart racing through them.

“Caato, they, we found a body on our farm.”

Everything in Caato Higashikata’s world flatlined.

“What?”

“Th-that kid!” Norisuke tried to recount what had happened, in borderline hysterics. “This one with a lot of stubble, he was feeling all along the ground, trying to find if the turtles buried themselves, a-and he started yelling about how he found a giant area that felt like it was disturbed, there were a bunch of pockets in the soil. He thought he found the turtles at first, but there were a lot of these, these little holes where dirt got tossed around, they said. And he started shifting through it, they all did, told me it was ‘weird.’”

He had to sit down, trouble in his eyes.

“It was an awful thing, they unearthed it, it… It looked like when my mom died.” He gulped. “Except its face, its face was horrified.”

It was a terrible moment when he saw that body. It was a terrible moment when he was a boy and saw his mother dead.

Norisuke never got a terrible moment for everything that happened next. There wasn’t ever a single point which haunted him, one instance he could point to as changing his life forever. It was all gradual; little things which start gnawing away at his bliss.

When the police identified the body as the runaway boy who bullied Jobin, what felt like so long ago now.

When they interviewed Jobin, and then his mother, who was the only adult home with him at the time. It seemed obvious they would, and they would soon blow over the Higashikatas and go bark up whatever other tree they needed to find what happened to the boy.

Then they told them they had lifted Caato’s fingerprints off of the clothes he was wearing. She was going to be under arrest, and he begged them to let her come turn herself in, so the children and the neighborhood wouldn’t have to see her be carried away in handcuffs.

That should have been the moment he lost everything, but it didn’t feel like that. It just felt like mom and dad going to the store while big brother watched the kids. None of them knew what was going on, and to Norisuke it still felt like things were going to go back to normal. There was some mistake, something that would come up and prove it was just some freak accident, or misunderstanding. She was so steadfast at refusing to confess a thing, even badgered by detectives, he knew she would prove true.

Reporters showed up quick, like he gave a damn. All he was interested in was phoning up lawyers and lining up money to bail her out, soon she wouldn’t even be away from the kids.

Then Jobin walked up to him, looking as sickly as he had been back then. And suddenly it felt like it all hit Norisuke before Jobin even started talking, before he started tearfully telling everything that happened.

There still wasn’t anything he felt like ruined it all, each word individually hit as hard as all their peers.

He never realized something horrible was happening; He had merely come to slowly accept it. He had made peace by the next time he walked in to visit her in her holding cell.

Her smile was so warm, and he would never see it cast towards him again.

For Caato, it was her husband who ruined her life, and took everything from her, as he sat there and called her “traitor.”

“You lied to me, and you betrayed everything I stand for. You’re… you’re a monster!”

She hadn’t wept in years, and now did harder than she ever had. She couldn’t take it when the life she wanted was impossible to get, but it was one hundred times worse when she already got it and it was being taken away. She begged and sobbed and put her hands against glass, needing him to just understand, and yet the bastard sat there and just kept throwing it in her face.

They talked a lot, and both of their minds by the end were in a state of shock which let them only break it down into easy-to-understand pieces.

“I’m not paying your bail, I’m not finding you a lawyer.”

“Our marriage is being annulled.”

“The kids won’t ever know about you.”

Her wails could be heard through the entire building.

It went on for hours, before they were cut off by guards and he left, having no interest in saying goodbye. No kisses, hugs, "I love you"s, nothing. It was all gone by the end of it.

Before Norisuke walked out of the room, he heard her beg one last time, hiccuping from her voice being worn out.

“JoJo, please.”

He let the door shut behind him.

Nobody ever called him JoJo again.

“Because Caato still had her own assets, she was able to hire an amazing lawyer. The case was too strong to get her off the hook, but he successfully argued that the state could only definitively prove that she moved the body, not that she had anything to do with his death.”

The blue from Yasuho’s hair was gone by the time Kei was finishing up her story.

“Society had already condemned her as a child killer. The Romans had a practice called ‘damnatio memoriae’, punishing a person by excluding them from history, and that’s exactly what Norisuke did. He erased their marriage, scrubbed all traces of her out of the company. I’ve been up and down their entire house hundreds of times and there’s not a single photo of her inside.” Something bitter infested her last words. “He erased all of it.”

Mitsuba had finished telling Josuke all she knew of the circumstances of Caato’s crime and arrest, stealing glances towards the woman she was talking about as if she were looking at a princess who stepped out of a fairy tale, unable to believe she was real.

“The prosecutor accepted the terms of charging her with disturbing a crime scene, desecrating a body, and a host of related crimes. When she appeared before the judge, he gave her the maximum sentence he could, with no chance of parole. Of her four beloved children, two didn’t know she was alive, and only one came to visit her.” She gave Jobin another resentful look. “She was a model prisoner, keeping her head down and working diligently, unable to go back to anything she held dear.”

Caato stepped towards them, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, dear; You’re even more beautiful in-person.”

“Until today.”

Chapter Text

Mitsuba stared with disgust at the offered hand of her mother in-law. “I’m leaving,” she declared with a turn on her heel, hesitating a second only to look at Jobin. “I guess I’ll see whether you come with me.”

“And you wouldn’t?”

Mitsuba’s gait was halted like she was being yanked by cords which latched themselves to her heart.

She affixed her gaze aghast at Caato. “What did you say?”

Caato’s stance remained firm, a storm in her eyes radiating an aura which dragged everybody haplessly into her orbit. “Do you mean to stand here and tell me there’s a single thing I did which you wouldn’t repeat if it was Tsurugi who came to you?”

Mitsuba scoffed, “Why yes, I think I can protect my family without murdering a child.”

Jobin volleyed forward to step between the two women. “Mitsuba, my dear,” his left hand took hers while his right arm swooped around her back and pulled her into his embrace, “this isn’t how I wanted anything to go, but please don’t be hasty. If it weren’t for my mom, I wouldn’t be the person I am today; Don’t you think Fate pushes things together in strange ways like that?”

“Jobin, I-” her voice, broken with conflicting feelings, was hushed.

“Please baby; You keep looking at the past, but it’s never gonna change. All you can do is close your eyes and walk into the new day’s dawn.”

“Jobin…” Hato had burst herself into the middle of them, trailing off her own brother’s name like it was an exclamation that lost its will. Josuke watched her face run through a billion different things to say, unable to form meaning out of any thought that ran through it. “Shut up…”

Jobin looked at her incredulously, eyebrow raised.

“Just… shut up.” She actually gave a solitary laugh, relief at saying something she’d been thinking for a decade. “All you ever do is stand around talking about how hunkydory everything is! You never bother to help Joshu, or Daiya… or me! We’ve got money and that’s all you wanna care about!”

“Little sis, go sit down, you’re getting emotional.”

“Emotional?” she yelped. “You’re damn right I’m emotional!” She turned her back on Jobin and grabbed her mother by the shoulders. “You! You…” She tried to remain fierce but broke down in tears. “You ruined my life!”

“Hato dear, please, just com-”

“We all almost died because I brought him over, because I wanted to be distracted from you!” Hato screamed hysterically, drowning out Caato’s bid for reconciliation. 

“Hey lady!”

Everybody’s sour moods were taken over by the sudden return of Joshu, who huffed his way back onto the scene and was hopping up to throw his arm over Hato’s shoulder.

“You should just beat it already,” he smarmily spat at her. “You might’ve given birth to us, but, you’re clearly more trouble than it's worth, going and upsetting my sisters like that!”

“Glad to see your father at least raised a boy who knows to comfort a girl right.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, go ahead and talk about my dad! At least he raised me at all! I bet you don’t even know my birthday!”

Caato replied in a blink. “27 April.”

Joshu’s mouth gaped open, vaguely whispering out “but… Dad doesn’t even…” 

“Come on, son, won’t you join me for lunch today?” Caato held her hand out to him, and his eyes darted between her palm and Hato’s tear welled eyes.

He stammered for nearly a minute, before shouting out “Come on Hato!” and grasping her hand to drag her out of the store, stopping when they reached the door. “Let’s go you two.”

Mitsuba was disinterested in Joshu in general, while Jobin remained firmly still. 

“Bro?”  Joshu malded over this some more, trying to formulate himself. He looked feverishly around between his brother, father, and mother, and finally wavered over Josuke, with an emotion unplaceable to even Joshu himself.

With a heavy scoff, he turned his back to all of them and carried a limping Hato out on his shoulder.

This action awkwardly left Josuke in the dust, to be studied like an ant by the fiery gaze of Caato Higashikata.

“What about you, Josuke?” Jobin asked, sending chills with his breath. “Don’t you think you could relate with having to commit sin to protect who you love?”

Jobin placed his hands on his hips and smiled, as Josuke’s minds flashed with the faces of Yotsuyu Yagiyama, Aguajito Phex, and Tamaki Damo.

Josuke shook his head. “What are you insinuating, Jobin? There’s no denying that I’ve killed people, but they were all in Tamaki Damo’s Rock Human gang!” He took a feisty step towards Jobin. “All of them attacked me; even before my memories begin, they started all of this because they wanted to kill Yoshikage Kira!”

“Right, come to think of it, those guys killing Kira and Josefumi Kujo… is the reason you exist right now, isn’t it?” Jobin cocked his head. “So you see, don’t you think that even the most heinous acts can create something beautiful?”

Josuke scowled, initially at Jobin before feeling another menacing glare striking him from the side. Caato looked down over him, pursuing her lips.

“That’s right… What a curious person you are. Reborn in the Wall Eyes, and with that red birthmark shaped like a star…”

Josuke saw into her eyes, a whirlwind history that raged forward with no hesitation to be found.

At some point along their newly aimless trek through the boardwalk, Hato had graduated from a stunted pace supported by Joshu’s arm into a frenzied canter which caught him off guard and left him struggling to keep up. 

He had just barely caught the points of her hair swinging in through the door of a rank looking bar. He was lucky to see her entering, as it occupied the middle slot of a plaza with at least a dozen other door handles competing to be pulled on into a wallet-busting void.

Joshu entered for himself, and was nearly ejected back out by a palpably disagreeable atmosphere. Inciting the bar to be an outlet for his overwhelmed irritation, Joshu turnt his nose up and squinted his eyes as he scanned for where his sister had gone to sit.

He had just gained sight of her and began charging his way forward when he felt his sleeve get caught by somebody’s grip. A stout man in a vest slid in through his peripheral vision, politely yet firmly evaluating Joshu’s presence.

“Excuse me, buddy,” he began, condescending over Joshu despite being a head shorter than him, “I’m afraid I’m gonna need to see your ID before you sit down.”

Joshu bit his lip and tried to yank away. “Slag off dude, I’m busy.”

“Of course, just as soon as I can see your ID.”

Joshu rolled his eyes and fished in his pocket, producing a couple bills of cash and shoving them towards the scraggly doorman.

“Ah, there seems to be a mistake. This is money, not your ID.”

Joshu gritted his teeth. “Come on dude, you really care more about me being a few months underage than getting free money?! Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Someone who still needs to show me their ID?”

Joshu sputtered like an old motor, and he could feel the varicose veins spawning on his forehead. "Enough of this! ”

“Nut King Call!” Joshu’s hand was wrapped in purple, crowned by a black orb around his wrist. With a ferocious point, the doorman felt his lip start burning as - unseen to him - a pristine silver screw burst through it, and began spiraling down until it dug into his lower lip and sealed the two together.

“Mmmm, mmm mmm!” he clawed at his face.

“Now you leave me alone while I’m in here and I’ll come unbolt your damn mouth when I’m done, got it?”

Joshu hopped on a bar stool next to Hato, who in record time had ordered a screwdriver to languidly swirl around.

For all his bubbling energy, his throat had been caught by wires of gracelessness, making him feel unable to say anything on his mind other than “There there…” as he pat Hato on the shoulder.

“Right now I would’ve called Isamu and ask him to go out with me,” she lamented, taking the invitation to do so out loud for Joshu’s ears, “And now he’s dead, because of me.”

“H-hey now, that’s nonsense. You didn’t meet that Rock Human guy until after he died!” Joshu reassured.

Hato waved him off, downing a big sip of her orange juice and vodka. “I couldn’t help him Joshu!” she sobbed, violently and suddenly. “I can’t help anyone. Since I was a teenaged girl, I saw how what mom did left such a big void in everybody’s lives. I promised myself I’d make up for mom leaving everybody, but all I do is ruin everything.”

“Come on, d-don’t talk like that; You really saved everybody yesterday! I mean, we wouldn’t be alive if it weren't for you and your awesome Stand!”

“As if,” she scoffed at herself. “Josuke had to save me from trouble too…”

Discouragement gnawed at Joshu, but his stubbornness proved a virtue. “Well, hey listen, not everything’s about fighting, okay? You taught me everything I know about cooking and cleaning… Not that I… do those often.” Joshu coughed.

“Hey look, Remember that time I came home crying because Kanai Katsuro didn’t give me an invitation to his birthday party? But you made me realize it was ‘cause he was mad at me for taking all of the good cookie packs from the snack table at the last class party. So you helped me write an apology note and make a bunch of treat bags for everybody, and I got to go to his party after all.”

Hato sniffled, looking at her brother skeptically. “That was when you were like, nine,” she chuckled.

“Yeah well, I think about it a lot! It was a good party! Hey, don’t laugh!”

Hato - against orders - laughed, and shook her head, leaning over to get Joshu into a big hug. “You’re a good boy, Joshu.”

“Do… Do you really think so?”

“Well, I want to…”

Joshu’s smile slowly flattened.

Josuke had been left in the crosshairs of the family fire, which had turned into a verifiable social war zone as the loud arguments had attracted onlookers - and worse, their phone cameras – before the outlet’s manager kicked the remaining Higashikatas out.

This left Josuke reduced to lonely wandering, hoping most of all that he’d find Daiya somewhere in the sea of solicitation and be able to call Yasuho. 

Eventually he happened upon Norisuke sitting alone outside a cafe, looking as though he had been punctured and had his energy slowly leaking out of him, adding lines to his face and greys to his hair.

“N-Norisuke,” Josuke dashed up to him, trying in vain to lift Norisuke’s face up with a smile of his own. “Where’s everybody else?”

Norisuke exhaled, words skipping like his tongue was a record. “Tsurugi went with her mom… The poor kid won’t even talk to anybody, and Mitsuba says they’re going to stay with her family unless Jobin agrees to couple’s therapy.”

“What about Daiya?”

“N-No idea…” Norisuke confessed. “She ran off after she asked me…” he started trembling, and buried his head against the table, “if she wouldn’t have been born if her mother wasn’t a killer.”

Norisuke pushed himself up and wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “She took her phone with her, as I’m sure you’re wondering, but here.” Norisuke slid a small box adorned with a ribbon across the table. “I’ve been meaning to buy you your own phone since you’ve been in the hospital; I was going to announce that I got you a line on the family plan at dinner tonight.”

“Thank you, Norisuke,” Josuke bowed, then gulped. “Please don’t stay down, Norisuke! I don’t really understand what’s going on between your family right now, but what I can say for sure is that we need to stay invigorated! Please, think about it! This was all caused because of the Rock Syndrome, right? What we have to do is to find the Locacaca I planted on your farm!”

“That’s right…” Norisuke scratched his chin. “There’s a Locacaca hidden on my property still. Tell me you don’t still believe-”

“Tamaki Damo told me himself, that Locacaca in particular has abilities that go beyond even what the Rock Humans are aware of! If we could only recover that fruit, it’s near certain that we could find a way to keep Tsurugi safe without having to hurt anyone else, family or not!”

“Josuke, tell it to me straight. Don’t you really want that Locacaca to save Holy Kira?”

Josuke bit his lip. “Please, don’t discredit me! I’ve been forced to inherit the mission to save Holy, but because of my circumstances, I want to help save the Higashikata Family too!” The day’s earlier conversations - with Jobin and then the Hospital Director - replayed through his mind in a flash. “It’s not just out of obligation, I care about you all like you were my own family too!”

“JoJo," he spoke with his familiar firmness again, a determination returning to his eyes. “We’re still partners, then. For now, I want you to worry about setting up your phone, and getting to call your girl. Wish I could still do that,” he lamented. “I have to go make arrangements of my own, in any case.”

His hand went diving for his own phone, a very specific number flashing through his head. One very precious but called only a scant few times in a year, filed under the name “Rai Mamezuku.”

“Your hair turned out good, kid.” Kei assured Yasuho as she walked towards the doorway outside. “Gimme another ring if you ever get tired of dealing with the Higashikatas.”

“Wait, Kei!” Yasuho shouted after her. “Just why are you so fixated against them in the first place?”

Kei stopped. “You’ve seen it yourself, haven’t you? There’s things around them that need to be closed away forever, because all that’s inside is bitter cold. This all should just become another one.” She straightened her brim, “You were talking about how Josuke told you about the ‘New Locacaca’, right? To tell you the truth, I doubt it still exists. You and Josuke are happy together now, and that should be all you’re worried about.”

And on that note, she left.

Her mother still sleeping off a hangover, Yasuho stumbled backwards through her home until she landed on her bed, whipping her phone out to try and reach Josuke.

“Yasuho?” Daiya had picked up, but sounded frighteningly beaten down compared to usual. She kept speaking without letting Yasuho herself respond. “Sorry but, I can’t really get JoJo on the phone right now. If my dad or anyone wants to know, I’m with Kohaku and I’m fine.”

“W-Wha-” The phone beeped before Yasuho could drill her further, but she inferred that the family daycation had gone downhill just as Kei predicted.

She spent the next little while worried sick before her phone lit up with an unknown number. Apprehensive but hopeful, she answered it and was relieved to hear Josuke on the other end, calling out for her and beginning to spill about the heavy events that had transpired since he left that morning.

“...So, yeah.” Josuke laughed, having finally got a chance to clear his heavy chest. “I think I need a night alone to clear my thoughts, honey, but come back to the hotel and visit me tomorrow, alright? Love you.”

“Love you too…” Yasuho blushed and clamped her phone shut. “Aw man, things were meant to be getting tied up, but now everything’s getting weirder again!” she flapped her arms, catching sight of herself in the mirror. “...Maybe next time I should dye it black.”

Chapter Text

It was needless to say that everybody’s moods had been too soured to continue enjoying the boardwalk the rest of that day; Even dinner was cut down to some trays of lousy take-out eaten on the small coffee tables in each hotel room. Josuke himself had to contend with his own emotional burdens, laying conflicted at every knife from the past that kept coming up to stab him.

Cyclical to what had happened the prior night, Josuke awaited a knock on his hotel door, and dashed to open it up to his beloved Yasuho.

He had prepared to bring her straight into his embrace but was struck back a second by an unanticipated new look from her.

The roots which he had spotted that morning had expanded and completely erased her poppy blue locks for gentler waves of light chocolate, which were let down and divided evenly on either side of a uniform fringe in the center, set barely above her sweet rose eyes. She was dressed in cherry overalls over a shirt which looked as phenomenally soft as her heart.

“Hey JoJo," her coy voice greeted him as her lashes fluttered, drawing attention with some swipes of mascara and the hopefully unnoticeable smudges where she had missed her mark.

Josuke shut his eyes and stepped forward to embrace her warmness. Her wide, tall, rugged, bearded warmness…

“Erm, the feeling’s mutual, Josuke.”

He peered his vision open to find that he was clinging to Norisuke, who had side-stepped in between the two of them at very specifically the wrong moment.

Norisuke peeled Josuke off of himself and began walking with his hand gripping his collar, guiding him out of the room like a mother cat who’s scooped up one of her kittens by the scruff.

“Sorry to pry you away from your little huggy cuddy, but we’re on urgent business, JoJo,” he explained over clamoring objections from the couple. Yasuho skipped after them the whole way down the hotel’s hall, until she tripped and planted her face onto the carpet in front of the elevator. “Forgive me dear, we shouldn’t be quite so long,” Norisuke said as he helped her up.

She groveled for a second, before scrunching her face and blurting out “At least let us kiss on our while we’re in the elevator!” She threw her hand over her mouth, dumbstruck that she actually just said that!

“Oh come on!” Norisuke bellowed in half-jesting remorse as the elevator began to open behind him. “I’m an old man, I don’t need to see that!”

“Close your eyes then!” Josuke wink-and-nudged just as the metal lift doors fully parted. Waiting inside was Soft & Wet, which reached out and yoinked Norisuke inside with one of its spindly arms while the other covered up his eyes with its heart dorsaled hand. Josuke imitated his stand and did the same to Yasuho, only for him to also tilt her whole head back a bit and quickly lean to shush all of her giggling protests with a fervent little kiss as the doors collided shut behind them.

It was brought to an end when the great metal cage chimed its electronic bells to let them know the torturously short journey to the floor below had finished; Their lips were pulled away in sync with light and noise from the lobby peering in at them.

Yasuho gave Josuke a tiny shove in the chest. “Never do that again!” she huffed, blushing and looking shyly to let him know that he should, in fact, do that again.

Josuke looked at her with a grinning mouth but still eyes. “Norisuke”, he turned to face his elder, “where exactly are we going anyhow? Why don’t we just take Yasuho with us?”

Norisuke shook his head. “Sorry kids, but this is something of utmost…” he rubbed his chin with fingers, trying to place the right word. “Exclusivity. It took a lot just to get Josuke into this.”

“Ah right, leaving the woman behind: A Higashikata Family speciality.”

All three’s necks turned together to the spiteful voice which had come at them; There stood the devil who lit ablaze the previous day.

Yasuho instantly felt a cold sweat form under the curtain of her bangs. “You’re-”

“Caato Miyoshino!” Norisuke fiercely finished for her.

Caato scoffed. “We’re doing that now, are we?” she giggled snidely. “Okay, Josuke.” Her gaze lingered over the man she knew by that name in a cornered off part of her heart, but eventually tilted over to the smaller lad who stood next to him, her expression souring over its new bearer.

“What are you doing here anyway!? Following us around?!” he demanded.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m just here for the complimentary breakfast.”

“Well, fine by me, we were just leaving after all,” he gritted to Josuke, beckoning him to march together out of the hotel.

Norisuke drove with vigor over increasingly unpopulated roads, while Josuke sat beside him trying to parse conversation while juggling texts from Yasuho commentating on Caato Higashikata’s lingering presence.

Norisuke learned his arm into the glove compartment and fetched out a small but sturdy book from it, crisp golden lettering on its wine red binding revealing its nature as a catalog for the Higashikata Fruits Company, which Norisuke flipped to a random page of and shoved into Josuke’s hands.

“Look there JoJo, tell me what you see.”

“Uh,” Josuke squinted down at a picture of a plump bunch of grapes tagged with the HFC’s logo, showcased on top a pile of faux-foliage. “‘Versailles’ Ruby Roman Grapes, for 660,000 yen.”

Norisuke continued while making another sharp turn onto a road that was nearly more dirt than pavement. “And on the next page?”

“Jiro’, they’re pickled plums which cost 160,000 for a container of 8, limited to 15 cases per customer.”

“Right you are Josuke! What you’re looking at is Higashikata Fruits’ luxury wholesale selection. Those plums are prepared in May, and every year they sell out immediately. People far and wide come after our products, Josuke, even when we push the limits of Japan’s ‘gift fruit’ industry. And do you know why?”

Josuke took to thinking up an answer while using a free hand to stabilize his hat against the now frequent bumps in the road. “I would guess because of ‘the craftsmanship of the Higashikata Company’, or maybe its ‘tenacity and strength of will.’”

“Haha! I’ve taught you well boy.” Norisuke went to give Josuke a hearty shoulder pat but was interrupted by suddenly swerving the steering wheel to spare a poor squirrel from its untimely end. “For the last 100 years, four heirs of the Higashikata Family have grown our name into a business that’s respected and clamoured for both in Morioh and across the world, and we have earned many well-known fruit shops, department stores, and supermarkets as our valued customers. However, none of us did it alone. Even as we speak there are dozens of professionals under my employ, each a specialist in cultivating or selling their own fruit and vegetable. Above all of them, however, is my Number 2.”

“Number 2?” Josuke mimicked. Norisuke nodded.

“For seventeen years I’ve had exclusive access to the services of one individual valued above all others, one person who’s skills in our craft is impeccable. Every seed of every plant that tries to go on our shelves has to pass through him first. Their flavour, scent, size, moisture content, every sense of happiness they carry in their sweet flesh, he can take one look at a piece of fruit and instantly analyze the symbols of its growth. He’s the key person to my Higashikata Fruits Company!”

Josuke tried focusing his eyes on the horizon to figure out exactly when they would be coming to a stop, the sky around them becoming eclipsed heavier and heavier by forest. “Are you being serious? I just mean, what does that have to do with me? And where are we going anyway?”

“We’re going to meet him, of course! I told you he’s exclusive; He lives in isolation in the forest around Mount Hanarero, and the number of people he meets with in a year can be counted on one hand. I’ve convinced him to add you to that list, Josuke, because when we return from vacation, he and you will be going on a mission to find Josefumi Kujo’s Locacaca and harvest it!”

Their drive concluded at a lot of concrete carved out with room for two dozen pairs of faded white lines paired up to make parking spaces. Past their border were a plethora of needled trees creating a lush forest. In their midst, contrasting the wilds of nature’s asymmetry, were lines of perfectly carved wooden poles suspending a system of wires and metal chairs suspended from a continuous dance of mechanical spools.

“I’ve never been to one myself before, but I think this is… a ski lift?” Josuke asked, as Norisuke clicked out of his seat belt and began to comfortably exit the car.

“Once upon a time it was, yes, but now it is a residence.”

“Residence? You’re saying somebody lives here?” Josuke asked incredulously, following Norisuke into the empty lot to keep up the conversation.

It did not take him long to notice that they were not alone: The assumed plant expert was perched like a bird upon a hunk of a rock which sat on the line between being called a stone and a boulder.

He first appeared to be wearing an ordinary suit and tie, but past his collar the formality was wrapped up in a full body jumpsuit, colored a dark green which blended it in with the patches of moss inhabiting his throne, while its adorning patterns of vines and bean poles matched up with his body, which was rather noticeably lean and lacking in excess, save for a rather generous backside. His skin - visible only on his face and hands - was a rich shade of light brown, and he looked at the pair stoically with his heavily hooded eyes, long nose, and glossy lips. He wore a trapper’s cap which covered up his hair except for twin braids which snaked out of the side, substituting a display of his hairline for a pyramid of fuzzy red cotton balls.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Norisuke.” He spoke in a monotone buzz which frequently peaked with the threat of emotion. “I take it nobody else has been following you.”

“Not in the slightest,” Norisuke reassured with jovial familiarity. The man nodded, and stood up. Walking towards Josuke, the latter could see how in comparison to the two of them he seemed rather small, but not unbuilt, more like a firm stalk of bamboo.

“And you would be,” he looked into Josuke’s eyes, “the one they call Josuke Higashikata. It’s a pleasure to meet you; Norisuke has filled me in on what’s been going on.”

“So, you know about the Locacaca?”

He nodded, ignoring Josuke holding out his hand for a shake. “Indeed, that devil’s fruit has been lurking around the underground trade scene for longer than I’ve been doing this, but I hear that because of you, the Damokan Group who were transporting it were eliminated. Normally I couldn’t care less, but Norisuke has asked me to go hunting for the Locacaca tree on the farmland with you, and I’m bound to service his request.”

“If you don’t mind my asking…” Josuke finished the handshake and bowed slightly. “Who exactly are you to Norisuke, anyhow?”

The man raised an eyebrow at him fishing for backstory. “I’m just an old friend, but I suppose an introduction would be proper. My name is Rai Mamezuku, and I’m 31 years old. I’ve dedicated my life to the art of cultivation, and work as Norisuke’s right hand agricultural consultant; In simple terms, I work appraising the plants sold by Higashikata Fruits, whether they’re grown by the company themselves or imported from our partners overseas. To speak humbly, I am the best in the world at what I do.”

He hopped a line of chain hoisting up a sign declaring the property as “CLOSED”, while Norisuke followed him by lifting it above his head.

“Care to join us?” Rai gestured at the chairs hanging at ground level as Josuke hesitantly approached. The three of them all seated themselves in one as Rai produced a small controller - out of the surprisingly existing pockets on his clothing - and clicked down on it, sparking the spools of cable above them to whir to life and begin lifting them up the slope of Mount Hanarero.

“The chairlift here was modified so it could be controlled by me from anywhere on the system,” Rai explained after seeing Josuke jolt in his seat.

“And what system is that exactly?” he asked, having to raise his voice slightly as their higher elevation brought them the bombardment of winds.

With another button press, the entire lift came to a sudden halt, in front of a pole which had grab bars stabbed into it down its entire length, along with a sign labeling it as #5. Throwing their safety bar up, Rai leapt out of the seat like a frog and began scaling along the pole, giving a mighty tug on one of the grab bars. A section of the pole - no greater in length than Josuke and slightly lesser in width - swung downwards on a set of collapsible supports, exposing a small bookshelf-like compartment hollowed into the inside. Josuke was shocked to see it containing a restaurant’s worth of pots, pans, and whisks, and at the bottom an entire mini-fridge and microwave oven. The covering had a cutting board installed into its opposite side, along with further carved out squares holding mugs and ceramic plates.

He began reaching into the crevices with what Josuke took as his equivalent of excitement, producing a few folded up fabrics. “If the wind gets too cold, then you can unfold this aluminum blanket to put on. Also, if you check to the upper-right behind your head, there’s a button to inflate the cushions on the chair,” he explained while fasting an apron around himself. “I believe you’ve had one of the parfaits I formulated before, right? Well then, I hope you’ll enjoy-”

“Oh!” Norisuke clapped as he fiddled with the chair cushion valve. “Tell me it’s not-”

“Rai Mamezuku’s Patented Romanoff.”

“My favorite!”

Rai cleared his throat and began swiftly moving around ingredients and containers across the cramped space with astounding efficacy, his hands guided with an inch-by-inch precision worthy of a neurosurgeon.

“We begin with 150 grams of mascarpone cheese, which is to be set in a bowl alongside one egg yolk. Mix them together,” he said, while paying nothing-if-not delicately careful attention to his whisking, “but not so much that it gets lumpy. We will call this ‘Bowl A.’”

“Now fetch a container - make sure it’s free of water droplets - and add 300 milliliters of fresh cream with a butterfat concentration of no more than 40%, alongside a dollop of honey. Give that a nice brisk stir-r-r-r-r,” he drew his instructions out as he performed them. “And that creates ‘Bowl B’, which I suppose isn’t quite a bowl at all, but anyhow, fetch a bottle of pomace brandy, pomace of course being the remains of grapes after being pressed for wine. This particular bottle came from a vacation in Portugal, where the drink is called bagaço. Bowl B demands the respect of exactly two teaspoons of it, to be separated by a stir. The cream should form a nice pointy taper while you’re stirring it at this point. Now the trickiest part is combining Bowl A and Bowl B together…”

He began stirring with such ferociously that it could be felt through the entire chairlift, and the entire mountain, if the annoyed trots of wild cows on the ground below were any indication. Josuke looked to his hands as he braced himself against the grip bar, but Norisuke playfully elbowed him to continue watching.

“I hope you still have the whites left over from that egg before, because that forms the foundation of ‘Bowl C!’ Whisk it so it froths up, then add 5 grams of sugar and keep stir-r-r-r-ring! But at the same time, your non-dominant hand needs to be turning the bowl, creating an awe-inspiring cycle of countering rotations! And look! Look how fluffy it becomes!” He coughed and regained his composure, seeming a bit embarrassed by the display of unbridled passion the likes of which made Josuke shiver.

“Whadda ya think ‘a that?” he asked calmly. “The sugary whipped egg whites make what is known as ‘meringue’, which is combined with the contents of Bowl A-B to create a rich, flavourful golden cream. That, Josuke Higashikata, is ‘romanoff!’ It’s commonly used to round off tiramisu, but in our case we will be serving it with the humble strawberry. ” He bowed, and fitted with a hot plate and kettle. “While we wait I’ll boil some water so we can have camomile mint tea, the only acceptable variety there is.”

Josuke had nearly begun sweating from the display, casting his stare between Mamezuku, an appreciatively-watching Norisuke, and the wide wilderness surrounding them.

“Hang on a minute!” he interrupted. “Is this some kind of a joke? Surely you can’t be showing me that… You live up here?”

“Affirmative.”

“In mid-air? On a ski pole!”

“Seven poles to be exact. This is only my kitchen and dining room. I keep my music records down on pole #1, since every pole has a speaker system installed. There’s Laserdiscs down there too, but the home theatre has never worked right, so I might just get rid of them. #2 has a library and winery, since I determined it was at the optimal height for storing such things. #3 has a bed with special netting to make sure I never roll out, and #4 is a closet for all of my clothes and shoes. Up on #6 is the bathroom.” He clicked his remote and caused #6 to open up, a toilet sliding out and grazing a polyester curtain. “There’s good water pressure so you can have a shower or use the bidet if you’d like. #7 is included in my rental too, but it’s just a tank of diesel fuel which powers everything; I paid extra for that since electricity is unreliable.”

“A rental, you say?”

“Mhm!” Norisuke butted in. “In the winter months he goes to stay at a villa in Siberia instead, but when the weather permits he lives here, because he uses the entire mountain ground underneath us as a farm!”

“Here you are, strawberry romanoff and chamomile mint tea.” He set a plate of dessert - with forks - and cup of tea for each of the men. “Please enjoy. I used the last of my strawberries for these.”

Josuke examined the dish, shrugged, and took a taste, his eyes lighting up as the golden cream hit his tongue.

“Wow! This is delicious!” he said through a mouthful, swallowing and then licking his lips to make sure he got every drop of the delicious treat he could.

Norisuke devoured his within minutes, before forcing a cough to gather his companions’ attention. “Thanks for the romanoff, Rai, but we do have business to discuss.”

“Right,” Josuke nodded. “Will you be able to help us identify the New Locacaca? How long do you think testing for it will take?”

Rai scoffed. “There will be no need for ‘testing.’ Norisuke, did you bring what I asked for?”

Norisuke nodded firmly and whipped his phone out on display. “There’s a recording of a visual survey of the entire orchard on here, just like you asked.”

“You seem to have underestimated me, ‘Josuke’, all I need to do is look through the trees on Norisuke’s land, and I’ll be able to find where that troublesome fruit was grafted on.”

“That’s incredible! I can’t believe it!” Josuke laughed, hoping the relief he felt as this would prove well-placed. “I’m sure it’ll be an honor to work with you!”

“Yes of course. Just follow some rules for me, Josuke Higashikata. Firstly, when we meet again, don’t dare bring anybody else with you, nor do I want to hear that you even told anybody about me, and remember your permission to be near me is entirely circumstantial. My second condition is that you do not get a swollen head or think we're gonna be good pals; I wouldn’t even consider doing this if you didn’t have Norisuke backing you. And finally, if you ever call me “Rei” instead of “Rai”, the partnership is off!”

He looked down from his perch, as some fruit-bearing bushes dotting the land where it wasn’t tread upon by pigeons. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I’ll need to take a second to harvest some strawberries.”

Josuke waited for him to climb down the length of the pole, half-expecting him to make a leap of fate, but was shocked to see as he merely leaned over and allowed a spiritual glow to wrap around his body. His skin-tight sleeve looked to loosen a little, and a whip of raw skin was pulled out of from, as he lassoed it down towards his target shrub.

Josuke rose slightly in the chair, risking a fall to get a good look at the strange figure floating above his new ally. It was robotic in form, having a canid’s head but with no jaws, only six beady eyes and corresponding ridges along its snout. Its floppy ears had the shape of bean pods, and a kanji meaning “bean” was stamped upon its shoulder blade. Its body - which was colored the same as its master’s suit - was limbless, and instead was lifted to tower over Rai by spindly beams cast in a harsh shade of red.

“No way, that’s-”

“It’s true,” Norisuke commented. “Not only is he a savant in agriculture, Rai Mamezuku is also a Stand user!”

Chapter Text

Jobin Higashikata joined the band of raccoons who were ruffling through the trash: Both dashing around under the cover of night in order to do as they please undetected behind a coldly desolate building. While the ‘coons were sharing around pieces of garbage from bags spilling out of a metal can, Jobin was fiddling with a sparsely used spare key to crawl inside through the backdoor.

A new wave of fear and cold realization washed Jobin as he stepped on to the tile, a featureless white array of squares which extended through the entire building uninterrupted, save for a throw rug centered underneath the late Tamaki Damo’s desk.

On top the desk was a rolodex. Jobin knew Damo kept all of his contacts together, and decided to pay it no mind, only being thankful it was paper.

With a shaking hand he slid open the desk’s drawer, grabbing at piles of papers - indiscriminate between dry cleaning invoices and orders of execution - and tossing them to the floor without care. He managed to reach a pile of more solid objects on the bottom, and extracted from them a navy blue lanyard looped around a laminated rectangle of plastic. He looked down solemnly at a square mugshot compressed down to its scale.

“ Aisho… You really are just gone like that. Everything happened because of Josefumi Kujo, who’s now my opponent, but… ”

A flash of harsh memory consumed Jobin’s eyes, forcing him to feel the heat around his hand that had sabotaged Aisho.

“You were about to kill my own kid, for God’s sake! I had to stop you!”

Another flash, a loud horn as Aisho was tossed into the air by a commuter bus.

“Or, I would have… ”

Standing on the opposite side of the road: Yasuho Hirose, some paramedic with mediocre hair, and standing firm with killing intent in her eyes…

“Tsurugi… Did she really… ”

Jobin snapped his head to stare at a wall, getting his thoughts back on a productive track ahead. Hung on it was David with the Head of Goliath, by Caravaggio. He had been with Yotsuyu when they bought it.

Next to it was an electrical box.

With his eyes keeping contact with the severed head rendered in oil-on-canvas, his hand reached back into the drawer and accosted a small, woefully outdated prepaid cell phone, the type Damo habitually kept a stash of like a dragon’s pile of gold. His longing stares turned into flames of intent, and his arm was enveloped by an orange glow.

“991, what is the location of your emergency?”

Jobin paid barely any mind to the operator’s words, letting out a rehearsed faux-rasp that was barely allowed to escape his lips: “I’m at the Damokan Cleaners on Renbokoji Street. It’s my friend’s business and I’m checking on it for him while he’s on vacation. The fuse box was sparking really bad and I think it’s about to catch fire. Come quick.”

Jobin closed the phone shut with no greater elaboration. Behind him, a chorus of frightful buzzes zapped through the air in the building behind him, quickly overtaken by the wild warmth of fresh flames raining down in invasion.

With one last look backwards, he held his hand over his heart, and tossed the cell phone into the developing inferno.

“Come on… Come on…” Jobin whispered to himself, tearing apart the room like a hurricane. “Shit!” he yelled out loud in frustration, cursing himself for nearly bringing any attention towards him.

He had crawled inside Seitan Stadium's backroom using Aisho’s ID Card, thankful that nobody in their stuck up ranks had been mindful enough to void his access when he died. His luck ran out when it came to seizing what he had come for, however; The Locacaca that were supposed to have been left in this cobwebbed storage room were a complete phantom, no matter how hard Jobin looked.

He had nearly given himself a conniption fit when a light bulb ignited in his head. Looking up at the ceiling he saw a small sliver of it was left ajar. “The roof!” Fidgeting around, he made a small stack of empty paint cans to climb on, hoisting himself inside the spot Aisho made and coming into a cramped crawl space, completely dark until he lit his view with Speed King’s burning red fingers.

He saw piles and piles of money, crisp yen bills banded up and hidden away from prying auditors and taxmen.

And no Locacaca.

He felt frozen despite the pulsating heat which flowed from his soul. “What… the hell?” Hairs stood up on the back of his neck, suddenly he was a little field mouse, jumping around in tall stalks of grass while fierce raptors circled the sky overhead.

“Somebody took the fruit but… left the money?”

The clouds were signaling the midst of autumn. It was the sixth of October, the day Damo had given his orders for, and Jobin had dashed down an overgrown trail, trying to make his assigned meeting within the narrow window of plausible excusability he could give Mitsuba, his maiden waiting back for him at a picnic bench.

He nearly leapt out of his own skin when finally came face to face with his appointment: A tall man squatting on a seat made of twigs. He was protected from the rough edges of the forest floor by a set of padded armor covering his entire body in blocks of gunmetal gray. The sun sent a glint across a pair of ruby glass disks which covered his eyes, a frame to the crude helmet which covered his entire face. The only sliver of milky skin which could be seen on him was his chin, which flashed a bit of itself behind gaps in the copper mouth guard which concealed his crusty lips and blunt chin.

He let out a sickly laugh at Jobin’s surprise, his breath stuttering like a worn car engine. “Are you Tamaki Damo’s boy?” He spoke with an accent just barely placeable as from somewhere in the United States, south of anywhere Jobin had ever been.

Jobin slowly nodded, and set down a box which had been hidden in his trunk a mere three minutes ago. “And you are?”

Damo’s client laughed. And handed over a sack stuffed with bricks of yen as he examined the contents of the box: Nearly a dozen fresh Locacaca.

“So it’s true that Yagiyama and Dainenjiyama bit the dust? I have an itching to meet the bastard who did it to them,” he groveled, giving Jobin a nasty look. “I always thought I’d have the pleasure…”

A droplet of cold sweat ran down Jobin. He checked his watch, and seemed to lose focus for a second as he watched its second hand ticking and ticking. By the time he looked back up, the buyer had vanished from sight, seeming to leave soil trembling in his wake.

He just had to get back to his car now…

He thought he was going to make it back within five minutes, when the voice most precious to him in the world pierced into his ears.

“Jobin!” Mitsuba was running full sprint at him. He bit his lip in frustration.

“Hey Mitsy, sorry I took so long. You’re never gonna believe who I ran into in the bathroom, remember that guy Taro Tanaka…”

She was not phased by his hasty excuse, huffing up to him with her face devoid of color.

“Mitsuba, listen, I…”

“We have to go! Something terrible’s happened at home!”

…

The final stop on Jobin Higashikata’s tour was the widest, emptiest of them all: The workshop of one Isamu Otoishi. The fashion world has moved past news of his untimely death, and his residence had seemingly been forgotten. It was forever frozen in time, racks and piles of glam lay unfinished, waiting for their consumption by moths and time.

Jobin sat in the dead man’s chair, blowing off a layer of dust as he did so. He paid no mind to the half-done craft on the table before him, instead attending to his phone buzzing in his pocket, a ring from a set of numbers which he had memorized manually so dad wouldn’t ever see whom they reached.

“Mom?”

“Hi hon, where are you at? I’m about to have breakfast with Joshu’s girlfriend,” his mother explained from the other end. Faintly in the background one could hear Yasuho, protesting that she is not Joshu’s girlfriend and that she is not having breakfast with her.

“I’m uh, out on business. How are things looking over there?”

“Dreadful,” Caato sighed. “Joshu and Hato are walled up in their rooms, Daiya's gone, and Mitsuba won’t even let me lay eyes on Tsurugi. You get back here and tell her that I deserve to see her!”

“Mom, I’m really trying, alright? But no matter what I do it seems like everybody is on dad’s side over this…” Jobin lamented.

“Right, your father,” his mother scowled. “I actually just ran into him, he was taking that freeloader boy somewhere with him. What’d you say his name was again? Josekage?”

A small, angry gasp forced itself out of Jobin. “What do you mean? Dad and Josuke?”

“Yeah… I think they’re up to something. I saw your father doing that thing where he scratches his chin whenever he’s cooking something up…” Caato pondered, before her thoughts were clamped off by a steady beeping coming from her phone, announcing that her line to Jobin was dead.

“Hey!” Yasuho stomped behind her. “That’s our business.” Caato turned around to look down on her, focusing first on her eyes and then on the electric blue glow wrapped around her forearm, sparks orbiting around her hand.

“I was once loyal to a man too,” she told Yasuho as she walked past her. “Here’s hoping it goes better for you.”

Once upon a time, just outside of the Mutsukabe Promenade, there was a mysterious shrine dedicated to Inari. It was built on top of a charming little swamp which had been manicured into a scenic pond, attracting many to the shrine. The most famous thing about it, though, was how nobody seemed to know who maintained it, nor could they ever catch a glimpse of the mysterious caretaker. However, if you left a gift of food or wine, the next morning a thank you note would appear in its place, its high sincerity matched only by the high shakiness of its penmanship.

Frogs leapt as the swampland was shaken. The culprit was a car which pulled up as close as it could before the gravel road fell into muck, followed by the subtler vibrations of a man stepping along the wooden footbridge which passed over it.

Jobin stopped shy of the gateway to Mutsukabe Shrine, saying a small prayer at the charms hung above him. Betraying regality, Jobin clutched in his arms a cardboard bucket which emanated the improper odor of fried chicken. He popped open its plastic lid and began tossing drum sticks over the bridge into the water. He watched small fish scurry around the sudden drop, but no sign of what he was waiting for. Giving a side eye to his surroundings to make sure nobody was quite around, Jobin began crying out “Ayoooooo! Yoyoyoyoyooooo!”

“Jeez kid, you don’t gotta do me like that.”

A sudden voice rippled up from the pond water behind Jobin, reeling in his attention to look over the other side’s railing.

Peering up from behind was a sunken, disheveled face, skin coated in muck which was baked on by many a day in the hot sun. Swabs of hair which were bleached to near white fell around it.

“I’m imagining you’ve been asleep for a little bit, huh old friend?”

Jobin’s “friend” was a disabled, deformed Galmi known to him as Dolomite. As the story had once been told to him, the poor fellow had lost function in all of his limbs after he took the bad end of an equivalent exchange to save a Human who he was in love with, not that it did him any good. He had lived in Morioh for decades beforehand, but after his incident became an ally of the Damokan Group. They gave him a Locacaca to try and heal his arms, but the power of Morioh’s ground overruled it and it only deformed him further.

Unfettered by a hard hit with the ugly stick, Dolomite’s connections did him well until a few years ago when Damo used him to assassinate a dangerous opponent of his. The group paid for him to begin living in hiding in order to cover it up, hooking him up with an air conditioned shack hidden underneath some park grounds local to Mutsukabe.

“Yeah, I woke up last week. Some people would call that a summer wasted, I suppose, but I don’t mind. It felt rewarding to live as a part of nature for a little bit again. It’s like one long dream of a tropical island,” he said in a muse-filled hum. “I heard your mother got released from prison, though. Tell her to come by and say hi sometime, will ya? You know, we were classmates in high school.”

“Yeah yeah, you tell the same old boring story about the '70s everytime I see you. Here, take your damn chicken.” Jobin sat the rest of the bucket down as he waited for Dolomite to crawl onto land and hobble over to him on his stunted limbs.

“The shrine appreciates your offering,” Dolomite said as pulled the chicken into a plastic drawstring sack he wore around his chest, hooked onto his mesmerizing zebra-stripe shirt.

“So hey, we need to talk. It’s about the Damokan Group.”

Dolomite paused. “Oh? What’s that lot up to?”

Jobin took a deep breath. “They’re dead.”

Dolomite’s pupils instantly shrank, and his body began to shiver in terror. “W-w-what do you mean dead?”

“Damo, Yotsuyu, Aisho, even The Twins. They’ve all been blown off the face of the Earth…” Jobin raised an eyebrow at the man from the pond’s sorry state. “Hey, quit panicking, it ain’t what you think. They were all killed because of this guy.”

Jobin leaned down to show him a photo of a young man saved to his cellphone, cut off at the neck just past the red birthmark emblazoned over his shoulder.

“His name was Josefumi Kujo, and he was the partner of a guy who stole a Locacaca plant from Aisho, so they could start to produce their own. Damo killed the two of them, but Josefumi survived because of the Locacaca they grew, which is on my family’s land.”

“Hey hey, slow down there buster,” Dolomite cried out, waving his elbows about. “I’m not in the business of getting involved in no more Locacaca stuff! I’m having a pretty good time right now.”

“Just listen to me, Dolomite. This is gonna sound unbelievable, but what those guys did was make a ‘New Locacaca.’ I saw Josefumi Kujo feed it to his dead boss, who’s name was Kira. Even though he was already dead, Kira’s body became completely healed, there wasn’t an equivalent exchange from the fruit! Not to him at least, it took it off of Josefumi’s body!”

“Alright, you got me hooked,” Dolomite chuckled. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

Jobin sat down, peeling off some pebbles which had stuck to his shoes and skipping them across the water. “My family is cursed… Every time somebody has a firstborn child, they’ll die of a disease which turns us to stone. Every generation, somebody will be brought to the Wall Eyes to take the disease from them, and the curse perpetuates by claiming somebody’s life. But, now I’ve got a theory.”

Dolomite had wrestled a chicken drumstick into his mouth, clenching his crooked teeth down into it as he nodded in urge for Jobin to continue.

“When a person is healed using the Wall Eyes, their injury will be sent to somebody else. That’s what happened to you. The Locacaca, on the other hand, gets rid of the injury entirely, but creates a new, equivalent injury to you.

You remember my daughter, Tsurugi? She was born as a boy, and is so terrified of getting the Rock Syndrome once she turns eleven; It's why she even originally asked to start dressing as a girl. Tsurugi wanted to get a Locacaca to save herself; She was willing to go blind or lose her legs if it meant being saved, but I think what we need is Josefumi’s Locacaca. It completely heals you and creates an injury on somebody else. If I fed that to Tsurugi, then she would be totally fine, but at the same time, I think that our family’s curse would become broken, since the Rock Syndrome itself wouldn’t have killed anybody. Somebody will just die of equivalent, but unrelated injuries from the Locacaca.”

Dolomite’s chicken fell to the floor as he ripped meat off of it, sucking it down. “So, who’s gonna be the ‘final sacrifice’, then.”

Dark resolve caught the light in Jobin’s eyes as he scowled. “That? I’ll worry about that later… What’s important right now is that nobody knows where on our farm that Locacaca is, because Josefumi Kujo lost his memories. He’s trying to find it, but he doesn’t trust me because he found out I was working for Tamaki Damo. I need to figure out what he knows!”

“Mhm, and uh, if you don’t mind my asking, why do I gotta know all of this?”

“Well, Dolomite, I know you’re supposed to be out of the game, but if I used the resources of the Higashikata Fruits Company, I could figure out how to grow more of the New Locacaca. Everybody on Earth will be after a product like that, and you could be customer number one! You could get your body totally restored if you help me.”

“Help you how? Please don’t say-”

“That’s right!” Jobin laughed. Dolomite looked downward at his own body, and a spark of desire resounded from his soul. A longing broke out of his body and skipped across the pond, rippling in a zigzag until it crawled onto a rock across the way. It started sprouting up like algae, forming raptor-like legs leading up to a headless, armless torso, shimmering in navy blue as a ghostly array of bones hung translucently over it.

“We’re going to attack with your ‘Blue Bayou!’”

Chapter Text

Yasuho Hirose tripped on her way into school, and fell flat on her face. It was her first day of high school, her shot at reinvention after her… incident, from the year prior, off to a start like that!

Yasuho was quite relieved to discover that a small miracle had occurred and - despite her running into some unsavory familiar faces during the entrance ceremony - her class was devoid of anybody from her middle school.

She ended up being assigned to sit in the last chair of her row, meaning she had only one neighbor to take stock of: He was awkwardly tall and gangly, hunched over as their teacher was lecturing him with a strange manner of expectant emotion on his face.

“You’re part of the Higashikata Family, is that right?” the seasoned educator asked him.

“Y-yes sir,” Yasuho’s desk neighbor affirmed, talking quite shakily.

“Yes, a few years ago I happened to teach your sweetheart of a sister.” The teacher looked up in fond remembrance, before his face suddenly soured. “Then much before that was your older brother, who was just awful.” He slammed a hand on the boy’s desk. “I’d like it a lot if you strove to be more like the former.”

“Of course, sir.”

As the teacher walked away, the boy turned around to talk to Yasuho, for the first of many times.

“Hey, do you have a pencil I can borrow?” His voice was very wobbly, drawing out on the wrong syllable like she was hearing him echo from up the line in a vast, flooded tunnel. “Mine ran out of lead,” he explained, gesturing at the empty interior of a mechanical pencil.

Yasuho elected to give no reply, simply fishing out a spare #2 from her binder in silence.

“Thanks!” Unfettered by Yasuho’s silence, he took the pencil with great enthusiasm, seeming to take a second to let his eyes scan across Yasuho’s entire being. “My name’s Joshu Higashikata, from Class 1-E. Well uh, I guess you already knew that second part, since you’re here with me…”

Joshu held his hand out to her, which she had begrudgingly found herself taking into a shake which lasted a few seconds longer than it ought to have. “This is gonna be one long year.”

At lunch, to Yasuho’s dismay, the Higashikata boy had leashed himself to her side, giving a lengthy exposition about how “just fine” she’d do if she stuck by him.

As she sat down backwards on a cafeteria stool, she made eye contact with a pair of fowl looking girls. Just as she had spun around to face her table, she heard their voices starting to pester her ear.

“Hey, rose girl,” one of them sneered, referring to the pink plastic blossom that decorated Yasuho’s fringe. “We heard last year you nearly got kicked out of school for knifing your arm open.”

Before Yasuho even had a chance to clench her fist and choose one of the dozen comeback scripts she had been preparing for this scenario, Joshu Higashikata unexpectedly started yapping over her like a shaking chihuahua.

“Yeah, well, where’d they get that story from? The Bonehead Times?” he chortled, railing himself in the row between Yasuho and the girls.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” the bully spat back. This made Yasuho look up at Joshu, taking a second to consider his bad posture and worse haircut before burying her blushing face in her hands at such a suggestion.

“What I am…” he grabbed the collar of his uniform and flipped it up, “is a proud son of the strongest family in Japan!”

He stood, frozen in a triumph pose, for a few seconds as everyone else just looked at him.

“Yeah… Who are you again?”

An irate noise petered out of Joshu’s mouth. “Hello! I’m a Higashikata!”

“Oh yeah, like that guy with the fruit company,” a brawly school athlete snarkily commented from afar. “I hear you guys sacrifice babies to ensure a good harvest!”

Yasuho watched, a little frightened, as Joshu’s eyes twitched. “Yea, well, people always find strange ways to cope with seething jealousy. Whoever made that up just can’t handle how my little toe is worth more than their entire bloodline!” His defensive display only earned him a worse impression on his classmates, between the unearned smugness in his voice and the way he waved his arms around as if trying to convince a brown bear he were a large predator.

“Hey Yasuho.”

Three weeks after school had started, Yasuho found herself crouched over her desk on a daily basis, entertaining her desk neighbor’s daily rambles. These usually consisted of some kind of complaint towards capitalism or mass market media, but today’s would prove to be atypically introspective.

“Do you think I’m good looking?”

The words took a real-time second to pass through Yasuho’s head, causing her to blink twice and flip around to face him.

“What are you talking about Joshu?”

He nervously tapped his fingers on his desk, like he was trying to play Bach on the hollow aluminum of a poor man’s piano.

“I mean, like, it’s been almost a month here, but no girls seem to want to talk to me.”

“Well, did you try talking to them?” Yasuho whispered, darting her eyes around to make sure they stayed away from their teacher’s scolding attention.

“Well, I guess not, but… I mean come on! I’m rich for God’s sake! Isn’t that all people are after these days?!”

Yasuho rubbed her eyes with her thumb and pointer finger, while internally going “ugh.”

Shaking her head, she told him “Don’t think of it like that, dude. Nobody just wants to stand around and look at the nice stuff you have; Girls would like it more if you made it about them. If you wanna use that fruit money of yours, use it to show someone that you’d want to take care of her. That’s what the girls around here would like.”

Joshu had been making firm, enforced eye contact doing her lecture, nodding eagerly. “Well jeez, thanks Yasuho! It’s nice having someone to ask about that stuff! Normally I try to talk to my sisters, but if I went to them about trying to get a date they’d never let me hear the end of it, I tell you!”

Joshu talked a lot about his sisters, which often made Yasuho morbidly curious if they were as weird as he was.

They were as weird as he was.

Although, quite curiously, not in the same ways as he was.

Before Yasuho had told him something about nobody wanting to stand around looking at his shiny rich people things, but found herself doubting her own advice. The inside of Joshu’s house - which had its own name - appeared immaculate, but not flashy. She could tell he hadn’t had any hand in the decorating himself.

“Oh it’s so nice to see little Joshu bringing a friend over!” clapped the older one of his sisters with rich blonde hair. Yasuho hadn’t quite been able to remember their somewhat odd names yet, but this girl had already made a strong impression on her. Not only for her eye-catching beauty which briefly stabbed Yasuho with envy every time she turned her head, but as well with her parent-like doting on the younger two, which Yasuho privately took as some form of replacement for the children’s unmentioned mother.

“Euuuu damn it Hato, stop talking like I’m still in diapers,” Joshu groaned out.

His younger sister, who had an ashier countenance and a demeanor far more like his, suddenly appeared hopping up from behind his shoulders.

“Give her a break, Joshu," she laughed. “At least she’s not coming in to tear you a new one like daddy is.”

“What do you mean like da-”

“Joshu!”

He was cut off by the strong aura of his father huffing into the room.

“For Pete’s sake, boy! Did I not put you in charge of inventorying our tool shed?!”

Yasuho watched Joshu gulp. “Hey, come on old man. I’m telling you, I’m misplaced with this field work stuff; I’m more of a recruiting and acquisitions kind of guy aren’t I?”

His dad ignored him, giving him a small, scolding pinch on the ear and shoving him out the patio door.

“No loitering in the living room until your share’s finished, boyo!” he grumpily insisted, before turning around and staring at Yasuho with a beat.

He coughed, “Why hello there!” he instantly switched into a joyful mood and clasped his hands together with a smile. “Seems that boy finally managed to bring a girl home…” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, that’s Joshu’s girlfriend, or something,” The youngest kid explained.

“Well, sorry ‘bout that. I hope you feel welcome in our home.” The household’s father bowed, over Yasuho’s squeaking objections to the given narrative.

With her newly left without direct company, Joshu’s older sister excitedly grabbed Yasuho’s hands. “Hey come on! You wanna look through my Vogue shoots? I know you’re at the age when girls wanna start wearing cuter stuff,” she told Yasuho, who had previously thought she already was wearing cuter stuff.

It was the end of the week during the second year of school, and Yasuho knelt on the cold floor of the boy’s bathroom at school, wiping off her tears and counting all the tiles she could see from inside a closed-but-unlocked stall. Joshu stood behind her, patting her on the shoulders a little too hard; He had dragged her in there after rescuing her from sobbing in front of an overwhelmingly bitchy gaggle of girls in the hall.

“T-there there, there there,” Joshu hummed, his sympathy bottlenecked by his having to remember how Hato taught him to console someone. “What happened out there?”

Yasuho stayed quiet for a minute, staring at her own overgrown bangs drooping in front of her eyes and gripping her wrist.

“Yasuho?”

She shakily stood up, and held her arms out to Joshu, sleeves rolled up and exposing the ghostly streaks that ran down the skin over her veins.

“They made me roll up my sleeves… and show them my scars.”

Joshu stepped backwards, muffling his own gasp.

“Wait, so did you really…?”

“Yes,” Yasuho whimpered into her arms, dropping back down to the floor.

Joshu crouched over to stay at eye level with her. “W-Why would you do that?”

Yasuho banged the back of her head against the stall wall, defeatedly wailing out “Because I’m a fucking loser.”

Joshu scrunched his face, “Hey, don’t say that! I mean - I’m a loser,” he admitted, sympathy tearing out his ego for a rare moment, “My brother and sister were the most popular kids in a 50 klick radius, and I haven’t even had my first kiss! You though, you deserve all the attention in the world! You’re really fun, and smart, and p-pretty, and…”

Joshu shut himself up, unable to tell if his ranting was helpful or not.

Yasuho wiped her tears in her shirt, making the skin around her eyes even redder than it already had been from her crying.

“Thanks Joshu.”

She wrapped her arms under his, making him flop down to the floor with her.

“I don’t think…” she kept her voice down. “you’re such a bad guy, you know.”

With her near-breakdown calmed down, Yasuho stared at Joshu and poked her cheek with her tongue, seeming to mentally shrug.

Then she grabbed Joshu’s head and brought him in for their shared first kiss, on the cold, filmy bathroom floor.

“Hey man, what the hell are you doing in ther-”

Lost in the moment in their own ways, they didn’t quite stop the exact moment another boy took initiative to swing their stall open, landing their kiss in perfect view of half a dozen kids who had piled in for the last chance at a quick bathroom trip before class began.

When the two of them finally registered, Joshu sat slack jawed emitting an “uhhhhh” like a dial tone, while Yasuho’s face lit on fire, horrified, while she slammed her entire palm in her face.

“Heyyyy Yasuho,” Joshu slid up to her outside school on the first Monday since their deeply personal yet entirely unglamorous kiss. He had not seen her that weekend, but still bragged about it to anyone who would listen. “How is my Little Strawberry doing?” he asked her coyly.

Yasuho sighed. “Hi, Joshu.”

Before Joshu had time to contemplate the grey rock response, he was overcome by a chill in the air as a third person entered their conversation.

“Hey there.” It was another student, giving a friendly but empty wave. He was a boy shorter than Joshu - shorter than Yasuho, even, without the help of his coiled dome of hair - but with a far bigger masculine energy to him. He possessed wide shoulders, tanned skin, and glowing yellow eyes.

“Who are you, buddy?” Joshu asked, stepping between the boy and Yasuho while trying to look tough. The interloper chuckled.

“My name’s Toru Yamagishi, and I just transferred to this school,” he cheerfully explained. “As it happens, though, I had a little meet cute with sweet Yasuho over the weekend.”

“Meet cute!?” Joshu stomped his foot, looking back at Yasuho, who stayed quiet and flustered. “Look here, pal, I respect that you’re new in town and all, but you oughta know that as of recently, Yasuho’s my girl.”

“Joshu,” Yasuho hissed, both angry and embarrassed. “Please don’t.”

Toru, however, spoke much clearer over her. “‘Your girl?’ Oh, are you talking about that pity kiss she gave you last Friday?”

“Pity?!” Joshu’s normal pasty skin was being painted scarlet by rage. “Why you little-”

He motioned towards Toru, perhaps a punch, perhaps a shove, but the end result was his uniform pants choosing a cosmically bad time to slip down from his waist, tripping him over, flashing his boxers to the entire schoolyard, and leaving him face-flat on the ground with a bloody nose.

Toru tsked over him with a glowing aura. “You should be more careful, friend. Rambunctious kids like you tend to run head first into bad luck.”

Yasuho looked down at Joshu and awkwardly pulled her lips back. Toru came along and took her hand, the two of them leaving Joshu to be laughed at.

Joshu sat on Yasuho’s bed, watching her pace around in wrathful tears while she cut up printed out photos of her and her newly-ex boyfriend. On one corner of the floor was tossed her graduation robes, and on the other sat a supermarket plastic bag hiding a box of deep cerulean hair dye.

“That fucker!” She smashed a framed picture of them against her wall before taking a break to wail into her covers. “Oh what? He gets a big shot scholarship to doctor school and now he’s too good for me?”

“I always knew that dick wasn't good for you Yasuho!” Joshu bragged more than he comforted.

“Yeah, you were right. Should’ve listened,” Yasuho sulked, while Joshu crawled closer to her.

He coughed. “So uh, you wanna give us a real shot now?” He flashed a hoping smile, which got knocked off his face when Yasuho elbowed him in the ribs.

”God damn it Joshu!”

Chapter Text

“God damn it Joshu!”

Josuke watched, bemused, as the back flap of Joshu’s hair was flipped up by a halfhearted slap from his older brother.

“I’m distinctly sure I told you to follow dress code!” Jobin reprimanded him, referring Joshu’s lack of a bright yellow, palm tree patterned T-shirt as part of his outfit, missing out on matching the one Jobin wore. 

“Come on, bro, I just bought this!” Joshu desperately appealed as his fidgeting waved around the coattails of the carmine jacket he had bought before the series of emotional disasters that had struck the family the day before.

“Yeah, and you can wear it any day of the year. But right now is a special time for us. It’s a certified family summer vacation!”  he exclaimed, willfully ignorant of how it was October. “When we’re looking back on photos of today years from now, you’re gonna be missing that cultural hallmark from your look!” He smirked, and added on “You’ll be totally upstaged by Josuke.”

Their eyes slowly swiveled towards Josuke, who was squatting on a stool in the hotel lobby, normal outfit indeed replaced by another matching copy of the very shirt Jobin was so enthusiastic about, along with cargo shorts.

Joshu - now changed into the matching vacay outfit - sat in the middle of the back of two rows of seats which comprised the inside of the van Jobin had rented for their boardwalk excursion. While uncommented on, Joshu felt strikingly alone in the midst of the large vehicle which had clearly been booked with the image of carrying more than four people.

He glared up at the front seats, driver’s and passenger’s.

“What the hell’s wrong with Jobin?” he mentally grumbled, with such vigor that the words may have nearly slipped out under his breath. “Daiya ran off, big sis and dad are pissed at him, even his own wife didn’t want to come do this now. ” He crossed his arms as he noticed Tsurugi in the seat in front of him, recalling earlier when he eavesdropped on her parents fighting about Jobin’s desired day out.

“And why does Josuke get to be here too?! This is all his fa-”

“This is all Josuke’s fault.” was a dominant thought in Joshu’s mind most days for the past several months, but this time he couldn’t help but cut it off. No matter how he spun it, he couldn’t get rid of the uncomfortable truth that this time Josuke hadn’t done anything.

He continued moping in silence as the early morning sun flashing across the windows on either side of him was superseded by the sight of business signs, all mixing together into lines of colour as Jobin drove by them too fast for any to be read.

He was so mesmerized by losing his thoughts to the tourist trap parade that he was lulled into being a bit startled when the corner of his eye registered Tsurugi, having craned her neck around to stare widely back towards him.

“Hey, Uncle Joshu,” she said, waving her stubby arm in front of his face until she was squarely the center of his attention. “Do ya know what I have in common with the beach?”

The only response was the sound of the van engine, which Jobin was clearly pushing to its limit pretending that he was still driving a sports car.

“We both have a lot of waves!”

Joshu started to work out a little sympathy chuckle, but was overruled by an abrupt sputtering coming from the front seat. Thankfully it was not coming from the transmission getting ready to give out, but instead straight from Jobin’s mouth, as he began uncontrollably doubling over in laughter.

“Aw man, that was totally a great one!” Jobin turned fully around to give Tsurugi a high five, leaving Josuke to watch as he plowed straight ahead through a red light.

“I can see how you inherited your driving skills,” he commented out loud.

Jobin kept up the praise of his offspring’s comedic stylings the rest of the ride, which brought them to the edge of Sendai, in front of a shabby looking wooden building.

“Hey bro,” Joshu grumbled as he crawled out onto the gravel parking lot. “What kind of place is this? You said we were gonna have a - and I quote - ‘completely awesome Higashikata summer vacation’, and we’re starting it at some place that looks like an outhouse?”

Besides him, Josuke grinded his shoe against the tiny rocks on the ground, stomping like a horse in surprise as he read the inscribed plaque erected to the right of the path inside.

“Morioh Steel Ball Run Museum?” 

“What’s his problem? ” Joshu thought, observing how he seemed aghast. He took the initiative to mentally lord over him with “Is this another part of his tragic backstory?”

“Ah wow, a fashion company museum!” Joshu tried his best to sound impressed with his brother’s choice of vacation spot. “‘Steel Ball Run’, That’s what that place SBR stands for right? Maybe now we can show Josuke what real clothes look like!”

Josuke gave him a dirty look and twisted his hat until the small silver “SBR” pinned to it glistened right in Joshu’s eye.

“Oh Joshu,” Jobin shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re so uneducated! You’re meant to be the smart sibling, aren’t you? Way before it was a clothes brand, Steel Ball Run was the great American horse race where our ancestor won third place, and because of that he was able to start our Higashikata Fruits Company! We’re here to pay respect to our lineage!” he barked, as he turned his head around to look at twin statues of braying bronze horses guarding each side of the door inside. “Well, that and because Tsurugi and I totally wanna see all that cool cowboy stuff!”

The inside of the museum held only a modest collection, but one which was clearly maintained with unmatched vigor & enthusiasm. Each article stood immaculately propped up on a small pedestal, literal & figurative. From horseshoes & belt buckles, to vintage newspapers and century-old ticket stubs guarded behind glass, they all had their old age battled by a daily infusion of loving attention.

The centerpiece was a statue of a stout man positioned against the wall in just the right spot to cover up a chip in the paint. It was colored such that it presumably once looked golden, but had since been dulled by time into more of a reflective mustard colour. Its subject was dressed in a sporty shirt with a net embroidery weaved over it, along with a sleek pair of pants that were stretched as he cockily posed with his hands around his pointed hips. Bunches of scraggly hair hung around his collar and framed his indignant face, which was crowned by a smooth helmet adorned with crooked letters marking it with “DIO”.

It was flanked on one side by the display of a magazine whose cover displayed a real photograph of the same English looking mug immortalized in plaster next to it. Its contents were headlined with “DIO BRANDO: World Champion or Presidential Killer?” Opposite of it was a flatly pressed front page of newspaper, more snappily declaring “Feds Blame Brando for FV’s Vanishing.”

Joshu strutted up to the statue, impressed, in a way, by how it made even him feel tall.

“Who the hell is that?” Joshu squinted at the effigy, unimpressed with his position as Patron Saint of the museum.

“Diego Brando.” The name was whispered into his ears, a serenade practically singing the word of the Good Lord. Joshu turned his head, and found his vision entirely filled by a face, making him jump back in fright until it shrank back to being a normal distance away.

“In the era of the Steel Ball Run, there was no single man more courageous on the field, beloved by the crowd, or skilled with horses than him!” The enthusiast stifled a cough, then murmured along with saying “Then he probably murdered and buried the President of the United States and his headless body was found dumped in the streets of Philadelphia with no explanation.”

Joshu side-eyed the introduction to the expanses of equestrian history. The expositor was introducing herself as the proprietor of the Morioh Steel Ball Run Museum, taking long sips out of a thermos, when she was superseded by Jobin strolling in between the two, Tsurugi hobbling alongside him.

“You hear that Tsurugi?” Jobin waved his hand through the air, attracting his child’s gaze to it like it were a streaking comet. “That story probably sounds like something out of an old movie, but it’s real genuine history! That guy was a real life cowboy!”

Behind him, the museum owner scowled. “Jockey, not a cowboy,” she coughed. “Some racers were cowboys, Dio wasn’t. He was trained exclusively in horse racing. There was no cattle involved!” she insisted, before whispering to herself “Just a lot of Tuberculosis.”

“Nah nah, the definitions don’t matter. It’s about the spirit of ‘Free American West.’ The majesty of being on horseback was the peak of glory in those times, Tsurugi.” Jobin knelt down, tenderly patting Tsurugi on the shoulder. “And because of that we get to experience the peak of glory we Higashikatas have in the modern day!”

The owner - after looking annoyed still about the cowboy thing - spat out her drink in realization. “You mean to say you guys are- I didn’t realize!” She excitedly started ushering them to a display around the corner, a small shrine dedicated to the name Higashikata Fruits. It was a huge cork board adorned with a chronological progression of articles & photos showing the exponential rise of their company, on top of a summary explaining the events to the uninitiated. Joshu made eye contact with a photo of his great-great grandfather, leaning against the back of a loyal Bavarian Warmblood. His eyes scampered across the rise of local Morioh news reporting on his third place win, to little pockets of text about the company he invested his prize money into, which ballooned decade by decade into huge prints in international commerce magazines.

“The name Higashikata is the Steel Ball Run’s lasting impact on this city! Even I was first brought into its complexities because of your family!” 

“H-hey, that’s pretty cool!” Joshu tried nodding along, but while searching for more words, he got cut off by Josuke.

“You’re an… expert in the Steel Ball Run? Do you have anything in here about Johnny Joestar?”

“Well, I don’t have anything. This is mostly a focus on people who… actually finished… Mostly Dio, actually. Heheh. I can tell you about him, though; He’s not really that well known outside of this city. And even back in the day he was a nosebleed, and spent years before the race & most of the time during it claiming to be paralyzed from the waist down, and-”

Left in the dust, Joshu turned to his brother, only to find him too walking off in a seemingly random direction. The only person still by his side was Tsurugi, who was looking up at all of her family history, a strange aura in her eyes.

“Great. This is meant to be a family vacation, but not only are Dad and Hato and Daiya not here, the people who are here can’t even be bothered to stay with me! ”

“Hey… Uncle Joshu.”

He looked at Tsurugi with surprise, given that she normally didn’t pay him much mind. He could scarcely remember the last time they ever spoke. 

“Yeah? What’s up with you, kid?”

She looked pensive. “This is all of our family legacy, right? I mean, we’re supposed to be super proud. Dad tells me all the time about how in the end, we’re the ones who run Morioh, and that everything will come back to favor us in the end, just like it always has. We even got a spot in this random museum, but-”

Joshu was distressed watching her talk. Normally she didn’t seem to even be capable of having a care in the world, but right now it was like she had mentally aged into having a midlife crisis.

“Those guys all did bad stuff, right? Their mums are all dead because of their Rock Syndrome!”

Those two words struck a blade in Joshu’s heart. “Rock Syndrome.” Once when he was tweenaged, Hato had given a very pointed lecture about the things their family went without speaking of. He had heard her - coated in her usual niceties - describe what was truth & fiction between all the things people said about their family. 

She told him it had taken their mother from them.

Shaking off his near-zone out, Joshu awkwardly chuckled. “Hey, Tsurugi, that was so long ago they’d be dead anyway, you know.”

His desperate attempt at some kind of quip passed entirely over affecting her.

“All of these people go around saying really nice stuff about us, but they don’t know the truth!”

Joshu grimaced, feeling like all the implications of Tsurugi’s word to him were piling up in his brain so tight that they were being shoved back out his sweating forehead.

“Wha- I mean, that’s some pretty big picture stuff you’re talking about. Don’t you think you should just let your parents worry about that? Come on, we’re having fun here!”

“I- I want to have fun, just…”

Tsurugi fell quiet, looking remorseful for having said anything. Joshu’s head twisted about as if he were an owl. “ Man, what is he doing anyway! ” 

Joshu caught Jobin just in the corner of his eye. Unbeknownst to him, Jobin had crept up behind another museum patron: A small boy - dressed in a pinstripe shirt reminiscent of a baseball uniform, with the hat to match - who was seen gazing longingly at a small rack of heavy history books with price tags stuck on their thick covers.

“What are you up to there, sport?” Jobin asked the boy, standing over him like he was merging with his shadow. "Wait, don’t tell me, you’re eyeing those books because they’re too expensive for you, right?”

Jobin’s words fell on the boy like hail; His behavior made one want to both quiver in their boots from fright and squint & scoff straight in his face, intentions unreadable.

“That’s right,” the boy gulped. Putting himself aside, he pointed at Jobin and asked “Aren’t you with the Higashikata Family?”

Jobin - above all else - smirked at the recognition. “Sure am, but enough about me. You’re really after those books, you said, right?”

He nodded his head, unsure of what the point was but tempted by the idea of leaning into Higashikata’s favor. “Yeah, I’m always reading books in my room, and these ones are just sublime…” 

“Well hey, tell you what sport,” Jobin said - his voice carrying both performed & legitimate excitement - as he pulled a folded 10,000 yen note out of his pocket. “How about you let me buy them for ya?”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Jobin smiled, as he leaned down to place the money in his hands. “Yeah, all you gotta do-” he paused, just as the bill landed in the boy’s hand. The latter, finally breaking through his excitement, noticed that despite being folded, the bill was not flat. It was a wrapper, something small concealed between its creases: Something held in place by the rich man’s pinched fingers, which was now released and dropping right onto his palm.

“-is go grab that guy over there.”

Jobin pointed over his shoulder, finger aimed squarely at Josuke. As he did so, the money & its hidden ally grazed the boy’s skin, & in perfect sync did the message hit his brain. All else became void, and life was so simple: Go grab that guy over there.

He began making limp steps in Josuke’s direction. The latter was engrossed in the narrative of the Joestar ancestor whose presence felt so scant yet was so central - he felt certain - to the way he walked and breathed as himself. He continued eye contact with the museum owner, oblivious as the boy crept inch by inch towards him, hand outstretched, fingers wrangling with a starving desire to fulfill his given order.

“Josuke!”

Just as the boy was about to seize him, he was yanked away by the collar. Joshu turned him, scowling at him. 

“Hey, dude, can you quit screwing around and help me?”

“What are you doing?” Josuke answered with a question, irritated. “I’m in the middle of something important.”

“More important than my niece being ready to bawl on family vacation because of-” he stomped his foot, unfocused anger not immediately fit for words. “Because of all that weird stuff you keep making happen!?”

Josuke scowled. “Tsurugi?” He shook the thought out of his head.

“Listen Joshu, I’ve apologized up and down for what has happened because of me, but all of that’s passed now! The Higashikata Family’s troubles go way beyond me, so it seems.” Josuke looked around for Jobin & Tsurugi, unable to see either of them. He swallowed. “Everyone else accepts me other than you, so I think you ought to go find another tree to bark up like a rabid dog!”

“Rabid dog?! Why I outta-”

Joshu paused, mouth hung open, as his eyes switched focus to something behind Josuke. A short child in a baseball cap, walking like a drunkard towards them.

“Uh, hey, dude? You alright?”

Josuke turned around, realizing Joshu wasn’t speaking to him. The child looked like he was meant to be auditioning for a zombie movie, with his dragged feet and outstretched arms. Something about the dead look in his eyes made Josuke instantly shutter. 

“H-Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Josuke began pattering back, as the kid seemed intent on crossing far into his personal space. “Say something!”

Easily able to outpace the boy, Josuke power-walked farther away from him, crossing around a glass case housing an antique set of jockey’s clothes in the middle of the floor. Through the glass he watched the boy continue onward towards him, relentless even as he came to the case. Instead of stepping around, he began to slam his body weight against it without mercy, the loud thumps fully attracting the attention of the museum owner.

Joshu and Josuke watched together as she came yelling over, angrily ripping the boy off the glass.

A second later, there was a scream. The boy’s posture suddenly stiffened, and his eyes were flooded back with light as he whipped his head around, visibly distressed and confused. “What happened to me?” he cried, clearly having been put through something indescribable to him.

“Yeah, ‘nothing weird happens because of me.’” Joshu inaccurately parroted Josuke in his head. “God damn it, something totally screwed up is about to go down again, I can feel it.”

He proved himself an oracle of the next five seconds, as the museum owner’s huffed disposition completely dropped. Without warning she was forced into the same, mindless form as the boy. Slightly taller & stronger than he, Josuke & Joshu gasped as she climbed up and over the glass case, face-planting down in front of them.

She peeled herself back up, arms springing out like a viper aiming for Josuke’s throat.

Seeing the panic go into his troublesome adopted brother’s eyes, Joshu’s face grew smug & weasley.

“Man, I need to stop thinking so negatively. This isn’t a big fuss, it’s just a chance to get one up on him!” He almost started chuckling out loud. “There’s no way this isn’t the doing of someone else with one of these Stands! If bubble boy of all people can take out a bunch of magic weirdos, then this should be a walk in the park for me!”

“Look out, man!” Joshu pushed Josuke back, purposely going a bit too hard as he positioned himself center stage, clearing his throat. “Nut King Call!”

Chapter Text

Joshu stood proudly as a shimmering violet aura cast itself into his silhouette and peeled off of him, becoming a portal which tore the air as Nut King Call crawled out of it, ready to throw hands.

It jutted forward towards the museum proprietress, flicking its wrist as it sought out a grand display of its powers. Joshu felt a giddy rush through his head, so excitedly that the world seemed to be a liquid evaporating with the heat, until suddenly his eyes narrowed and the clouds of action crashed rain straight back down on him.

Another person - a broad, bald man in sharp casual dress - had himself come dashing to the woman’s aid, stepping right into Nut King Call’s path. His Stand being faster than his reaction time, Joshu winced as the man’s presence registered to his brain while Nut King Call mistakenly planted a screw right on his kneecap, protruding off like a mushroom growing off the center ring of a decaying tree stump.  Quicker than anyone had time to react, the bolt popped off and the man yelled as he timbered over and bashed his head against the floor, while the zombified owner mercilessly stepped over him.

 “Go- Ga-” Joshu stuttered over the sight, feeling Josuke’s deadpan stare forming a knife against his neck.

“Soft & Wet!”

To Joshu’s dismay, Josuke’s own Stand appeared to upstage Nut King Call, its hands cupped together as it spun up a bubble & flung its soapy surface towards the woman’s feet, where it wrapped around one of her ankles and effortlessly floated her upwards, swinging her upside down.

“Get her now, Joshu!” Josuke barked, crossing his arms.

Joshu scowled at being shown up, but - nearly moving of its own accord - Nut King Call proceeded in unscrewing both of her arms, which had remained fully outstretched towards the two, as firm & still as two boards of wood.

They dropped down, each grazing the good samaritan who had been subjected to an untimely de-ankleing. In that same moment, Josuke & Joshu looked into the museum owner’s glazed over eyes, their own pupils widening as they watched light & clarity abruptly flood back into them.

She blinked briefly, before holding up the stumps over her arms, which had been screwed off from a clean, hollow divet that made them look like those of a broken plastic toy.

Joshu looked at Josuke and noted that his face visibly displayed the same feeling he himself was overtaken by: “ Oh shit. ”

On the ground, the owner’s whimpered gasps-turning-screams were outclassed as the two’s biggest concern by the bald man on the ground, who had started mindlessly dragging his one-footed self across the floor towards them. His body flailed around as he stood up to badly balance himself on one leg and hop at them. His movements were utterly surreal; Joshu’s nerves were split between laughing at them or being deeply unsettled.

The museum’s small crowd all started fleeing from the scene, including the sports uniformed boy who had initially started the encounter, who dashed straight past Josuke, sobbing & hyperventilating.

Josuke’s eyes twitched in annoyance as he noticed this. “Hey kid! Wait!” he fruitlessly called after him. 

Behind him, Joshu was eager to square up with the crawling man, bouncing in place with his fists raised like he’d been drawn for & pasted into a boss fight stage. His eyes were slanted, Nut King Call hovered over him, them both waiting in-sync to make a defensive strike at the crawler’s dead-eyed, zombified face.

The man crawled straight past him.

Joshu’s face abruptly turned into indignation, as he awkwardly kept side-shuffling to keep up with the zombie’s limp movements.

“Hey! I’m right here!” he huffed, not caring whether or not the bald man had the capacity to hear him.

Josuke looked with dismay at the dwindling amount of floorspace between him and the zombie, experimentally stepping to the side and lightly gasping as his pursuer’s dragging hand shifted course to keep straight at him.

“He’s fixated on me,” Josuke realized. “Some coward is mind controlling these people to try and kill me!”

Still agitated, Joshu stared down at the crawling man nearly pitifully.

“Well, they aren’t doing a very good job,” he tsked. “Nut King Call!”

Nut King Call floated over to the man and gazed down at one of his hands, laying flat against the floor with curled knuckles ready to drag him another few inches centimeters forward.

The Stand manifested a screw in the middle of the hand, cleanly formed inside of his skin & marrow.It spun around cleanly, binding his limb to the floor.

Joshu smiled and stood proud over the zombified man being disgruntled as he was unable to move his arm, but his moment of ingenuity was cut down as - to the duo’s shock - he pulled back his hand with such force that it split itself into around the screw, spraying blood on the floor as his fingers twitched, now with a canyon of open flesh formed going down from between his middle and ring fingers.

“What the hell’s wrong with this dude?!” Joshu yelled, his willpower shaking.

Josuke’s eyes were narrowed at the man, who was standing back on his feet, blood gushing from his hand. “It seems like nothing will stop these puppetified people in their tracks short of killing them…”

“K-Kill?” 

For the canyon of difference between Josuke & Joshu, the same things flashed in their head: Jobin and Caato, standing proud of their crime for its role in saving their lives.

“Don’t you think you could relate with having to commit sin to protect who you love?”

“No! I can’t let anyone else get hurt on my behalf, let alone a random bystander! We need to find where the Stand’s user is hiding!”

Josuke remained frozen as the man trudged towards him. He cast his eyes aside to Joshu, the look on the latter’s face broadcasting him desperately trying to come up with an idea. 

On the floor, the museum owner watched with shock and awe, sputtering “I-It’s real! Magic is real! Stands are real! Brando really did turn into a dinosaur!”

A firm footstep planted beside her, and within another second, the zombie of a man halted and collapsed on the ground.

Where he had stood, a reddish haze clumped together in the shape of a hand, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Josuke and Joshu gasped at the sight, as they looked forward to stare in the eyes of Jobin, who had reappeared looking concerned, but with just the slightest smirk seeming to hide on his face.

“What the hell is going on, Jobin?!” Joshu watched as his brother was immediately hounded on, while his own eyes wandered back to the collapsed zombie; A pulsing line of blisters had appeared going down the side of his forehead.

“Bro, did you just k-k-”

Jobin firmly cut off the both of them with a raised hand. “Don’t worry about that guy, he just passed out. I used my Stand to make his blood vessels dilate and make him too light headed to walk properly, not that I needed much help.”

“You’re trying to kill me, bastard!”

Joshu couldn’t believe what he was hearing! “ That entitled prick’s framing my big bro for this? ” 

“Hey big mouth!” he jogged between Josuke & Jobin, “He just saved your sorry ass and what do you do? Go off shouting some crazy stuff like that!”

“Stay in your lane, Joshu,” Josuke snapped back. “You’re out of your element.”

“Out of my-” Joshu huffed. “You didn’t even have an element to begin with!”

“Both of you two, settle yourselves down,” Jobin commanded. “Joshu, you’re acting hair trigger because you just got upstaged, it’s your year five talent show all over again. Now, Josuke, where do you get off shouting at me like that in the middle of our family vacation?!” Jobin laughed in disbelief, which seemed to earn him Josuke’s ire. “Do you really think I’d ever do anything to hurt my family? Especially now of all times?”

“D-Don’t play games, Jobin Higashikata!” Josuke barked back at him.

Jobin smirked. “‘Act concretely, and you will get answers in concrete terms.’” 

“T-That’s Mitsuo Aida, right?” Jobin turned around, seeing the stuttering museum owner looking up at the three in awe.

“Right you are”, he winked. “Now, Josuke, I believe you already figured this out, but my Stand ability is to cause objects to gain heat. Nothing more, nothing less. How do you suppose I could use that to cause this ?” he asked, gesturing at the unconscious man.

“You’ve got another ally! There must be another Rock Human from your gang!” Josuke asserted.

“ What is he talking about? ”  Joshu thought, watching the argument with an internal fume. “ Is that scumbag really accusing my family of being in ropes with that gang that were after his ass? ”

“Hey Josuke, I got one question for you.” Jobin held his pointer finger up high. “If you’re saying I want you dead,” flames blew off from his shoulders, the menacing face of superheated rot named Speed King visibly hanging over him, “Why wouldn’t I do it myself?”

The two held each other at knife point with their stares, before Joshu took the initiative to ask -

“What do we do about her?” 

He was referring to the museum owner, whose lips were trembling in shock.

“Haha… I knew it!” she yelled again, before utterly exploding into “Magic is real! It goes all the way back! The FV Assassination was a cover up!”

Jobin waved his hand in the air, saying “She’ll be fine. Now, let’s go scoop up my kiddo and go find something fun to do.”

“Fun?!” Josuke demanded back of him. “We’ve just been attacked.”

“Hey come on, bro.”

This response made Joshu’s hairs stand up on end. “ Jobin nevers call me ‘bro’ anymore; What the Hell! ”

Jobin continued, “You already know, don’tya? In addition to me and yourself, Tsurugi & Joshu are both Stand users too. There’s no way any Joe Schmo who’s mad at your old selves could outdo us together!” He put his hand on Josuke’s shoulder.

Josuke’s eyes narrowed in response.

“Yeah, you’re right; I have no reason to live in fear.”

Yasuho Hirose sat hunched over her laptop. Notepad was opened, displaying a selection of notes she had made on the present situation.

“ - Pursuing Stand remotely controlling people like zombies to head towards Josuke”

“ - Activation method unknown”

“ - Interrogated Norisuke on any information revealed to him by Tamaki Damo”

“ - Only lead: Damo had murdered a doctor before.”

Her fingers shook as she held them over the trackpad mouse.

“ It was meant to be over, damn it. It was so close to being over! ”

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and willing her arms to be consumed by blue.

“‘Paisley Park.’”

The boundaries between Yasuho’s flesh & skin and her laptop’s metal & wires blurred as her mind was blasted with flashes of words, photos, and dates. It would be impossible for a normal person to process half of it in the micro-short span they were pelted through her synapses, yet she was able to comprehend it all at quantum speeds. Her power was not quite seeing or reading, she found she simply knew .

Knew - that is to say - of a complete list of public obituaries for doctors in the Sendai area, any who died of unnatural or seemingly unusual causes.

Of course, that was going off of the relatively baseless speculation that Tamaki Damo’s operations were only limited to the Sendai area.

She willed the results to be combed through, anything she could find useful being up to her whims. They were like a pond of water, little blips and bubbles breaking across the still surface of knowledge.

There was a big splash.

She opened her eyes to see her laptop screen had blown up a grainy web image of a broad, mustached man in a lab coat. Next to him, shaking his hand, was -

“D-Doctor Holy?”

Intrigued and excited, Yasuho shrunk the image back down to observe the page it had come from.

The man in the image was one Marukami Muni, and he had been a doctor at none other than the TGU University Hospital. A little bit more typing & clicking, and Yasuho found an article giving his cause of death: About a year ago, he had suddenly passed of a heart attack.

Yasuho looked at this page with suspicion, her eyes seeming to look past the page formatting and into some dark void which it had been thrown up to cover.

She felt herself scanning for keywords, even as her eyes remained still.

“...reported coroner Ella Ishizuchi.”

That name, plugged into the address bar, results coming in. It appears dozens of times, the career of a prolific woman. A school of info-fishes big enough to feed a whale swimming through her pond.

Two of them breach the surface.

“Celebrity Architect Found Dead in Own Home .”

“Missing Injured Man Found Dead in Woods. ”

Yasuho’s focus broke, she was abruptly thrown back into her own head.

“That’s-...”

New images flashed through her, coming not from an infinite network of knowledge but from the depths of her own mind. Josuke kneeling next to a stone-frozen face of hate shoved in a net; her own murder being inches away from her throat, stopped only by the manipulations of a child.

“Those are the Rock Humans who attacked me and Josuke!”

Yasuho shuttered, suddenly feeling a cold hand on each of her shoulders. She spun her neck around, staring into the pulsing glow of Paisley Park’s single eye, staring down at her inquisitively.

“Do you think…” Yasuho rubbed her chin. “That woman supposedly did autopsies on Yagiyama & Dainenjiyama, but neither of them left corpses behind.”

Her fearful face was steeled as she stood to her feet. 

“It says her office is located within the University Hospital complex,” she stated to Paisley Park. “If I could go there then you -- I -- could get into her computer and be able to find autopsy report records… Something has to be going on here.”

She caught herself in the mirror, staring at her reflections: The one in the glass, and the one in her Stand.

“There’s a bigger picture still.”

The doors slid open before her, and Yasuho stepped inside. The TGU Hospital was on its own nearly more of a metropolis than Morioh itself. Every corner you looked at, there was some monument to self-gratitude. Trophy cases for accolades earned by TGU students & alumni and awards given to recognize the hospital as the leader in response to the earthquake, and the Wall Eyes. Advertisements for their on-site affiliate spa and massage parlor, the door to the postal store stationed right next to the check-in desk.

Yasuho stepped purposely around it all, going firmly to her destination of a little office space tucked away in the far corner of the omni-building, adjacent to the morgue.

She had thrown on a white jacket over her clothes, and draped her school lanyard around her neck with her ID face down against her shirt. “ Just act like you belong, and most people won’t want to question you .” She had heard that as a tip to sneak backstage into concerts. 

It was about one in the afternoon, the perfect time for Yasuho to spend only a short while lounging about waiting to see the coroner go out for lunch.

“There she goes…”

Ella Ishizuchi carried a look of strain on her face. Her overtaxed face was centered between twin braids of damaged looking hair. She wore leather pants underneath a long pair of heeled boots, pitch black and reaching up to her knees. A sliver of her torso was visible through a slit in her roach-tailed dress shirt, which was bound together by a row of black strings.

She walked straight past Yasuho, who took a deep breath, and continued onwards.

She reached a barricade in the hallway: A set of mechanically operated doors that required a swipe of ID to open; A swipe of ID or, of course, a quantum computer living in the tips of your fingers.

“‘Paisley Park!’”

She brought her hand to the card reader, and within a second got a satisfying beep out of it accompanied by a click from the heavy wood door swinging towards her.

She skipped through the doorway, feeling hyped up despite the atmosphere of the room being palpably imposing. She shuttered, thinking about the doors near her which lead into a hall of corpses shoved in drawers.

She leaned against a wall, feeling like she was trying to shrink herself away from the sight of some invisible guard scanning the room for prey.

The shadow of her cast by humming fluorescent lights was overtaken by an identical shape of electrical blue. Paisley Park started crawling along the floor, inching towards the coroner’s office.

“Hopefully Paisley can get in there & swipe something interesting before anyone has to even see me in here," she thought.

With her head turned to the right, she watched Paisley’s flat form cascade from her phone all the way towards the door, sliding straight underneath it in search of electronics inside.

As Paisley Park found a computer to tap in to, Yasuho suddenly felt an inexplicable coldness steep into her. She flipped her gaze around to the left, almost collapsing out of fright the very instant she did so.

She was now joined by a hunched figured clad in black velvet. An old man balancing on a cane - face shadowed by a bowler & scarf - had somehow managed to sneak up on her, leaving her biting the inside of her mouth trying to stop herself from screaming or stammering.

“You…” he said in a hoarse whisper, “are an unfamiliar sight.”

She felt her knees wobble, his tone was condescending and controlling.

She glanced down at her phone, noticing that Paisley Park had already returned to it in however much time she had been held captive by this man’s aura. She shot back out of the phone up towards the ceiling, where she snaked across until her mass jutted out as a single long limb which tapped the mechanism of the door back out, making it swing open as Yasuho continued looking up at the phantom of a man who had joined her, seeing his eyebrows raise at the sound of the door sliding across the floor.

Once it was fully open, Yasuho took a deep breath and booked it back out as fast as her legs would take her. She sprinted for about two minutes straight until she was back outside, panting in the parking lot.

“Did I almost just get caught? ” she asked herself. “He didn’t seem like any sort of doctor I’ve ever seen before, but…”

Yasuho felt weak from more than just sprinting while being out of shape. Something about that man’s shadowy glare sent her heart into a tremor, like - inverse to Paisley Park’s navigation - the sight of him had sent distortion & fear straight into her. 

So rattled, was she, that she nearly toppled over just from the sound of her phone dinging.

Pulling it up and having Paisley retract to show her her normal message screen, she realised it was a text from Joshu. Normally such an occurrence would send her into an eye roll or maybe a deep groan, but the contents of this one were a bit stranger than usual.

“Yasuho, what’s a rock human?”

Chapter Text

Joshu’s phone shook in his trembling hands. He felt like some sort of a tool, trying to pry an infodump out of Yasuho out of the blue like that. Still, Yasuho was the only person he had to make his “Wrapped up in that damn Josuke’s weirdness” support group with.

Jobin hit another speed bump. Getting knocked out of his train of thought, Joshu turned to look at Tsurugi, who had been spending this entire car ride undercutting the very specific tension going on in the front seats with a deluge of requests for places she wanted to go.

After some deliberation, the group ended up right back in the middle of the boardwalk. All of the lights and chatter suddenly seemed like a plague on Joshu’s mind. He aimlessly stumbled around a bit, looking as every prize game & counterfeit shoe stand seemed occupied by a flash of his family fighting.

The spiral halted only once his eyes landed on his niece, and her huge cowboy hat.

“H-hey Tsurugi, come with me!” he said, in shaky false excitement.

He grabbed her hand and jogged off around a corner with her, slinking towards a railing hanging several metres above the sand, out of sight of Josuke & Jobin. 

“Jeez, slow down Uncle Joshu,” Tsurugi chortled as Joshu started panting.

Joshu looked down at her, his poker face not being good enough to conceal an ulterior motive within him.

“What’s going on?” Tsurugi asked, suddenly biting her lip. “I-is something up with you too?”

The implicit weight being carried by her words made his heart sink. “Tsurugi, what’s going on with you?” he half-accidentally asked out loud. “I mean, has that Josuke been trying to rope you into anything weird? What about…” Joshu gulped, “your dad?”

“I-I, nobody’s done anything wrong,” Tsurugi blurted out, gulping. “We’re all the good guys.”

“And, is Yasuho one of those good guys too?”

 Tsurugi was quiet, and looked guilty.

“Look, Tsurugi, I don’t want you to be in trouble, or anything. We just gotta get to the bottom of what’s going on!” Joshu promised, under the dangerous assumption that Tsurugi wasn’t already at that bottom.

“Tsurugi!”

Their talk was cut off by Josuke jogging his way towards them across the wooden planks. 

“You two, don’t split off like that!” he hollered, mostly at Tsurugi. “I know that your father is making it seem like no big deal, but somebody is trying to attack us right now!”

Joshu scowled, and “More like attacking you. ” slipped out from under his breath.

Josuke looked over towards him, confused, almost as if he had only just remembered Joshu actually existed.

“What’d you say?”

“I said they’re attacking you !” Joshu snapped. “Everything was fine until you came along and all this weird bullshit started happening! You pissed off the Yakuza, got dumped in a dirt pile with your brains knocked out, and come crawling in with us while we deal with the consequences!”

Josuke scoffed. “We went over this, dude.” 

“Did we?” Joshu rolled up his sleeves, taking a deep breath.

Then he jumped straight on top of Josuke, like a wet cat finding a fish in a dumpster.

“What the hell are you doing-”

“Mole man bastard!” Joshu grunted. “You hurt my sisters! You hoodwinked my dad! You sleep in my goddamn bed!”

Joshu tried to slam a punch against Josuke’s face, but Josuke gripped his wrist and firmly held it in mid-air.

Joshu sputtered. “Nut King Call! Take off his legs!”

Joshu’s Stand floating up from a glow behind his back, fingers waving at Josuke.

Before it was unscrewed, Josuke lurched his leg up, kneeing Joshu in the gut and making him double over off of him.

Josuke jumped to his feet, eyes widening as he looked past Joshu’s howls of pain.

“H-Hey you, get out of here, this doesn’t involve you!” 

He pointed at a portly old woman in a sundress, who was limping towards the three of them with glazed over eyes.

“She’s acting like those people at the museum!” Tsurugi shouted.

“Oh ho ho no!” Joshu gritted his teeth, standing up and stepping towards the lady himself. “Not you!” he shouted at the Stand user - some ways away - who was responsible for the appearance of the zombies. “Josuke is mine!”

“Don’t let her touch you!” Josuke barked as the woman’s outstretched fingers came dangerously close to brushing against Joshu.

Soft & Wet leapt out of Josuke’s position, grabbing Joshu by the shoulder and dragging him backwards. Josuke dashed towards the end of the boardwalk - taking Tsurugi by the hand as he went by -  and jumped off the boardwalk. Within the second they spent falling, Soft & Wet formed a huge bubble beneath the three of them, cushioning them safely down to the sand below.

They all looked back up to the boardwalk and watched in shock, as the woman carelessly walked straight over the railing, plummeting right down and landing on her arse.

Despite the impact being enough to take anybody - let alone an aging woman who looked to spend her days pampered on the couch - out of action, she wobbled back upright and kept trying to step towards Josuke, falling back over every couple of drags.

Trying to remain calm, Josuke brushed himself off. “This is pretty bad, we’re out in the open and this power could cause a lot of collateral damage; We gotta do something about it!” 

“Joshu,” he said, willing to overlook the former’s outburst for the sake of dealing with one problem at a time. “Call Yasuho, I’m gonna need her help.”

“Like hell! You aren’t putting her in the crosshairs again just because you can’t solve your problems!”

“Are you serious? You and Tsurugi are in danger too!” 

“Nuh uh! This is only targeting you, if she and I walk away ourselves we’ll be fine.”

Josuke sighed heavily. He summoned Soft & Wet kneeling, and had it place a bubble in the sand, which spun around until it formed the grains into a full combat orb. It floated up towards the woman, then popped in her face, sending the sand pouring into her eyes.

Even as her eyes turned beet red from the irritation, she wasn’t slowed in the slightest.

Frustrated, Josuke instead just had Soft & Wet swallow the woman herself in a giant bubble, forming a barrier between them. Even the bubbles tightly wound cords weren't a permanent fix, as she dug into the them and squeezed through a terribly small hole but onto the sand.

“Joshu, do something!”

Nut King Call appeared beside Joshu, but he was in too much of a blind rage still to think strategically with it. Instead he did a quick scan of their surroundings, and spotted a glint of dull silver sticking out against the plain texture of sand.

Nut King Call dashed over to it: a long, discarded shovel, the edges of which had been heavily worn down. Spinning in its hands, it ran up to the woman and swung, bashing her straight in the stomach. While her eyes stayed wide and fixated on Josuke, her face scrunched up around them and her reaching arms involuntarily wrapped around her gut as her knees buckled and brought her to lay in the sand.

“Hey, say something! Where’d you come from?” Josuke was frantically waving his hands in front of the incapacitated woman.

“No use,” he said in frustration. “There has to be 200 people just within line of sight up on that boardwalk. There’s no chance we’re gonna be able to find the Stand user behind this!”

“What do we do with her, then?” Joshu asked, dejectedly adding “The sand is too loose for me to put a screw on…”

“We just have to put distance between us and her.” Josuke took several long strides in the direction of the water, Joshu on his trail. They were so caught up in their respective sighing and seething that it took them both a moment to register that Tsurugi had stayed behind, and was calling out to them.

The scene had been encroached on by a trio of shaggy looking beach goers: two men and one woman, all with equal lengths of greasy, unwashed hair slung over their shirtless shoulders. They triangle-d themselves around the collapsed woman, staring down at her like a band of badgers coming across a fresh carcass laid across a log. 

It didn’t even take until they started talking to each other for the woman amongst them to touch her fingers to the zombie’s sand-encrusted fingernails.

“Hey, all of you get out of here!” Josuke shouted too late, as he watched yet another person begin blindly slugging towards him.

He started to feel hopeless, watching a beginning loop of the two men acting mad, confused, concerned over their friend’s behavior, one grabbing her as she refuses to listen to a word they say, only for the affiliation to glaze over onto his eyes, and start everything over. Even if he were desperate enough to kill them, there was no reason to think the Stand user couldn’t just start the chain over. Was being taken by its whim really the sole path Josuke could be set on?

He was pulled out of it when he realised they had stopped walking towards him. Josuke’s overwhelmed-confusion cleanly transitioned into befuddled-confusion, as the endless loop had seemingly thrown him out; The Stand’s current set of victims were still hypnotised beyond any reason, but they had changed to chasing each other around in a loop instead.

Body still tense, Josuke began apprehensively walking back towards them in order to retrieve Tsurugi, who he found standing smugly, an origami crab scuttling at her feet.

“That’s my Paper Kingdom! I made it so that they all see each other as looking like you, so instead of trying to get to the real you, they’re just chasing around each other! It’s like they’re stuck in a game of tag.” she chortled. 

When Joshu was a kid, he had a playset of plastic trains - with faces - that were empty plastic shells who were sent around a loop of track by one battery-powered chassis, which would slide in and out of each one in turn. On the sand before him, he saw this play feature brought to life on the human scale.

“ Tsurugi… What sorta 12 year old thinks of something like that?”

Joshu felt like he was being passed over, but he brushed it off, as that feeling had been omnipresent for the past while. Little could he have known, however, that this time it was literal. He had been caught in a pair of binocular lenses, which swiftly shifted away from him to capture the three zombie’s loop with crystal clarity.

Jobin Higashikata watched through, shaking with irritation. With his free hands, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and speed-dialed a burner phone he had left Dolomite; Not that he could quite so easily pick up, but such was the designated signal to deactivate his Stand.

“ This is… I saw one of Tsurugi’s origamis bouncing around down there .” Images of Yotsuyu and Aisho danced across Jobin’s vision, as if his binoculars had been pointed into the past. “ Just what has she been doing with Josefumi Kujo? ”

A click imitated from Jobin’s phone, showing that Dolomite had decided to put in the effort of picking up after all.

“We get him?” he asked.

“No. I’m gonna need to take…  a bit more of an acute approach.”

Hours later, Joshu Higashikata sat alone on a beach up a slope from the beach. It had seemed that Tsurugi’s trick warded off whoever was after Josuke, and the group had simply dispersed from each other, nobody having the energy or interest to vacation any longer. Joshu mumbled angrily as he entertained himself by throwing a coin high in the air and having his own Stand catch it on the way back down.

“Everything’s just-”

“This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for-”

“I wish we could just go back to-”

This time, he let the coin hit the sand.

What did he want to go back to? Josuke being gone would certainly be a great start, but it seemed like even without that gap-toothed sailor twink , it seemed his family had been primed to explode from the inside out all along.

He was made to stray from the trails of his thoughts by a striking vibration quaking across the sand. He was blinded by the afternoon sun gleaming against the source: A fanciful minivan, painted in a striking purple livery and presenting itself like a king’s chariot.

The passenger side faced towards him, and its door opened as his brother leapt out, kicking up grains of sands with his bombastic landing. Jobin looked at Joshu eagerly, and stood with his back straight as the car’s driver emerged from the other side.

It was that thunder storm of a woman who had appeared to ruin their day! Ruin their whole lives, for that matter! like an aftershock blowing through a crumbling building, pouring salt in the wounds of consecutive months of traumatic events.

It was his mother.

Joshu’s face instantly scowled. He sprung to his feet, coat trailing behind him like a comic book hero’s cape while Nut King Call floated by his side, arms held out and ready to strike.

“You!” he cried out.

Jobin put his hand out, much in the way he always did when he was feeling dismissive towards his siblings.

“Calm down, Joshu. A big kerfuffle is exactly what we’re trying to avoid here.”

Caato Higashikata drifted towards him, gliding across the beachfront and through the cloud of sand spun up by her ride’s oversized tires.

“You’re in over your head, but are keeping up with your feisty moral code,” she observed. “You remind me of your father when he was your age.”

Joshu scoffed. “What would you know about my dad?”

Caato rolled her eyes back at him. “I know that he can’t stand being around river turtles, that he loves The Doors, and that he lost his virginity at a showing of Tomoharu Katsumata’s The Little Mermaid ,” she smugly rattled off, before adding “-to me.”

The duo stood over Joshu, managing to create an effect of towering over him in spite of them both being shorter.

“This family stands divided, and it’s your father’s fault,” Caato stated resolutely, standing proud as the beachfront winds blended with the swirls of her dark hair. “He may have been born with their name and their blood, but I am the one who embodies the will of the Higashikata Family!”

Jobin stepped forward, putting an arm in front of his mother in a way that seemed to both shield her and hold her back. 

“Nobody wants to call dad a bad guy,” Jobin coughed, “but when the going gets rough he tries to hide and ignore the problem instead of facing it head on!” He drew his hand out of his pocket and tossed something at Joshu. It made a metal clinking as it hit the ground, a result of Joshu failing to catch it in his cupped hands. Picking it up and blowing the sand off it, he found he had been thrown a set of car keys.

“Those are the keys to a Porsche, Joshu; right off the assembly line!” Jobin clapped. “They’re from a friend who owns a dealership. Do you wanna take one for a test drive with us?”

Joshu scowled at his brother. “What the hell are you talking about, man?” He stomped his foot on the loose ground. “At a time like this, you think I give a damn about a car!? About money !? Is that it? Spoiled Little Joshu, always looking to pocket a quick buck?” He kicked around in circles, face turning red. “Maybe Hato was right about you, man! You have to stop trying to make things fun all the time!”

Joshu’s feisty movement was stopped when Jobin suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “Hey, little brother,” he sneered, “Do you know exactly why I can live like we’re on summer vacation each and every day of our lives? It’s just as mom says: Fate is on the side of the Higashikata Family! It doesn’t matter if you’re born into it, or married, or even taken in like a stray dog! Victory is our right!”

“The disregard for wealth, despite standing on top a pile of it like a dragon…” Caato cut in, approaching the two of them. “You really are turning out just like your father. Tell me, Joshu, do you intend to make the same mistake he did?”

Joshu gulped. 

“And what mistake is that?”

“Failing to protect your family in the face of adversity.”

Jobin’s grasp slipped down from Joshu’s wrist to become a gentle hold on his hand.

“Joshu,” he said, “Is that what you desire right now? The chance to shield your family? I think for how alienated you might feel, you and I have one major thing in common right now.”

“Y-yeah?” Joshu hesitated to ask, “And what’s that?”

“We both know that right now, the man endangering this family the most is Josefumi Kujo. That is to say: Josuke.”

Joshu suddenly jerked his hand away from Jobin. “So you’re saying-”

Jobin shushed him by shoving his finger in his face. “Are you gonna ask if I’m the reason Josuke has been attacked today?” He stared wistfully at the sea. “Truth be told, the answer is yes. I’m not trying to kill Josuke, or even really hurt him, I just had access to a power which would allow us to move past his influence. Of course, I didn’t anticipate that Tsurugi herself would be smart enough to circumvent it, although that’s my fault for not having enough faith in my own child.” 

His mother stood beside him and handed something to him, which he then moved to hand off to Joshu.

“I know you have a grudge with Josuke right now, though, so if you want to try and settle things yourself, I won’t stop you. In fact, you can have this. Inside of these is a ‘weapon’, but you can’t use it until you already have him cornered, got it?”

Joshu looked at what was slid between his fingers: Two playing cards, faces pressed flat against each other.

Chapter Text

He sat with his hand hanging over the lip of his convertible’s door. He tapped in his palm against the metal, eager for the red light to pass so he could get back to speeding through the crisp summer air of a romantic night.

Of course, one swivel of his head to the left proved that the length of wait mattered not, for he could surely spend an eon appreciating the sight next to him: A loving girl with silver eyes, chestnut hair, and a gentle smile.

“So, where do you think we’re gonna end up, Dolomite?” she asked, enamoured but the slightest bit tired from driving around the beach with no destination in mind.

He chuckled. “Well, there’s a spot up on those cliffs over there I think is really suited for a night like tonight, honey.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always with you and the cliffs and the caves,” she affectionately elbowed him.

“What can I say? I’m the sorta dude who feels in-tune with the Earth. I guess that’s why my friends decided I should be named after a mountain range.”

“I feel bad for you,” she mused. “All these big ideas and dreams; you wanna be a rock star, travel the world! And you’re setting it all aside just for little old me…”

The light turned green, and his foot hit the gas. Young love filled the air.

So cruel, is it not, when Fate decides a happy ending is to be swept away in the flow of calamity?

It came in another pair of blinding lights; a drunkard behind the wheel slipping into the wrong lane, prompting him to swerve away hard. His car rumbled over the dirt, rattling over uneven ground and mole holes until it was forced into a brutal stop by impact with a power pylon.

He was bruised and covered in class, but his dear date was much worse for wear. He shook her, screamed her name as he watched her breathing turn harsh and her eyes go glossy.

In that moment, Dolomite found himself being fueled by a primal instinct. A need to protect, manifesting as a voice which called out to the core of the Earth for help. He crawled out of the car - moving firmly despite the horrid pain in all his limbs - and slung her over his shoulders. He carried her only a few yards ahead, before he found himself placing her on the ground and kneeling beside her, as the dirt on which they stood fully gave way and buried them in a small tomb.

From there, it was in the hands of the Earth. Her ways, her magics, her smile gleaming upon that worthy man.

Josuke had retreated back to his hotel room. It seems nobody clued in the rest of the family that there had been further danger aimed at him. Though the guilt of keeping secrets scratched at his neck, he was thankful for that, as the quiet miasma of despair and distrust that had hung over the family remained in place.

He had had a phone call with Yasuho, who seemed to be equal parts freaked out and excited in relaying her encounter earlier in the day. After a couple hours waiting for another horde of zombified hooligans to come limping after him, Josuke bid her good night and tried to decompress enough to get some sleep.

Knock knock knock

He almost panicked, but the knocking was rhythmic and purposeful, not characteristic of the Stand ability which had chased him earlier. 

His fears were further alleviated by the shrill cry of “Josuke! Get out here!” that came from the other side of the door. It was Joshu, not fearful or worried or seeking help, but rather steaming mad.

Josuke sat up in bed, fixing his hat on his head while thinking “ What’s his problem at this hour? Come to think of it, Yasuho told me he was trying to nose information out of her earlier too. ”

Josuke opened his door to find Joshu stomping his foot and raising his fists.

“What do you want?” Josuke asked, severely unamused.

“We’re settling this,” Joshu said with blunt cockiness. “Right here, right now, get in the parking lot and we’re settling it.”

“Are you serious?” Josuke found himself ready to launch into another tirade against Joshu, but realised it would only be fruitless parroting of their argument earlier. Frankly, he decided, it would be more productive to just give Joshu what he wanted and put him in his place.

“Fine.”

They stood 20 paces apart on the asphalt, both in a shadow between the bright glares of parking lot lamps.

“Bring out your Stand!” Joshu commanded, pointing at him with his right arm and moving around his pocket with his left.

Josuke complied, Soft & Wet emerging from a bubbling aura over his back.

“Nut King Call! Appear!” Joshu’s own fighting spirit - his Nut King Call - popped out beside him, standing sideways with its spindly fingers cast over its hips and its wide eyes turned forwards.

They both stood still for a second more.

Joshu leapt towards Josuke; Nut King Call sprinted forward, looking to claw at Josuke. Soft & Wet threw a fist down at it, but it managed to side-step the hit and twirl around into landing a kick against Soft & Wet’s chest, making Josuke stumble a bit.

“ It’s fast. ” Josuke gritted his teeth. “ But its form is wide open!”

“ORA ORA ARA ORA!”

Soft & Wet kept swinging punches around, until it landed one right against Nut King Call’s horns, pushing it backwards while Joshu fell to the ground.

Josuke followed up with more - purposefully gentle - hits against its torso.

“Are we done?” Josuke asked as he looked down at a panting Joshu.

“I…” Joshu tried to start talking, well and truly winded, “I wasn’t meant to do this until morning. But I need to figure this all out for myself! For Hato, and Daiya, and Yasuho, but most of all for me God damn it!”

He suddenly whipped something out of his jacket. Josuke thought it was gonna be a knife, but instead it was only a small piece of cloth pinched around something tiny. Joshu flung it towards Josuke, unfurling it as its content scraped against his bare wrist.

“Joshu, those cards are our mom’s Stand ability; in-between them is a fingernail. Gross, I know, but whatever you do don’t touch it directly. Tomorrow morning, you get Josuke to fight you, and when you have an opening throw that fingernail against his bare skin, and then you’ll get all your answers. 

It was impossible to see what had Josuke in the dark, but the tiny white scrap had been but a clipped fingernail.

Josuke’s defensive posture suddenly went straight as a board. His limbs stiffened and he started mechanically marching out of the parking lot. 

Joshu stood up, coughing as he regained his bearings. 

“ Holy Hell… It really worked! ”

“Josuke!” he yelled out as a test, trying not to be so loud as to attract anyone else’s attention. “Hey!” He clapped. He jogged forward and waved his hand in front of Josuke’s face, taking care not to let him touch him.

He apprehensively smiled, and followed him into the night.

Joshu was getting a real kick seeing Josuke walking like a pig following a carrot on a stick, but he was starting to get a little worn out by the hike; He had gone all the way to the Mutsukabe Promenade, when he finally came to an abrupt stop, after having climbed over a bridge which went over some marshland near a shrine.

Joshu watched from the treeline as slight movement brushed across the pond. A spindly, ghoulish form emerged from the shadows, looking at Josuke curiously, flanked by an apparition of a squatting blue raptor - sans head - encased in a vivid blue glow.

“What the-” the figure spoke in a countryside accent, swiveling his head up to tell the time by the light of the sky. “How’d you get here this early?”

“I was brought under the effects of your Stand by Joshu Higashikata,” Josuke instantly replied, speech plain and emotionless.

“Jo shu ?” the interrogator repeated. “Jobin’s little brother actually did it?”

“Correct.”

“Well, alrighty then! Uhh, let’s see let’s see.” As the Stand user crawled around, Joshu could see all of his limbs were missing from the knee and elbow down. “Jobin? Are you there?” he called out.

Joshu Higashikata stayed quiet.

“Well okay, I guess I can just ask myself,” the user mused to himself. “‘What are you and Norisuke working together on?’” he asked, inflection making a half-assed echo of Jobin’s voice.