Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Haru woke up to the distant ring of her fathers alarm clock, his tired moans accompanying them before the ringing abruptly stopped. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched, back arched, and arms bending behind her head. Flipping her covers off, Haru stood up barefoot, heated floorboards complementing the house's cozy interior. 

Stepping into her bathroom, she made quick work of clipping her hair back and washing her face with warm water and cleanser; using a soft toner; and then applying a lightweight, moisturising cream to end off. She fanned her face dry then unclipped and brushed out her hair, some strands lightly sticking to her cheeks. Haru brushed them away. A light layer of gloss was applied before moving back to the bedroom.

She moved to where her uniform was hung up, clean, fresh, and ironed the night before. She slipped on her long skirt, amaranth purple in colour, and reached for the matching sailor top next. After tying the blue neckerchief neatly, she sat on the plush, baby blue chair in her bedroom corner, slipping on white socks that ended on her lower calf. 

Haru grabbed her gakuran and bag, leaving the room and closing it with a quiet click. She decided to walk to her dads room. It showed her he was still sleeping, his thin button up and black work pants were still on - based on what Haru could make out with half his body uncovered from his blankets.

He must have overworked himself again , she thought. Working on a stupid case gone cold over the years. She stayed still for a moment, thinking. She slid closed his door and walked off through the hallway, down the stairs, and to the front door. Deciding to skip breakfast and quickly slide into her shoes. She strode out the front door.

:]

Haru walked briskly down the road to school, the morning frost nipping at her nose and ears, her lipgloss already dried up from early temperatures. The air was refreshing and most of the town still slept as the sun peeked over the trees onto the road, doing little to melt away the ice. Every breath in was met with the sharpness of the humid cold. Haru could feel the frost in her eyes and every blink gave just a tiny bit of warming comfort. 

The trees lacked vigor and their amber leaves had long since either fallen or were ready to, browned and dead. Small twigs perfect for nesting littered the ground and water dripped off from the suburban houses. Each confident step was stained with the sound of wet squelching, common to cooling seasons and Haru’s breathing was shallow and pained, visible fog with each exhale.

The front of the school was seen hidden behind the naked branches of cherry blossom trees, windows faintly dusted with condensation. Haru pulled her gakuran collar over her red-tipped nose and quickened her pace when she spotted the gates of her school, crushing wet, warm-toned leaves and twigs under her loafers: relatively new very little scuffs and blemishes, damp and shimmering.

Stepping through the entrance had calmed the chill just barely and she made her way to her locker, slipping off her shoes. Haru perked up when her name was called not far from her.

"Yama-Chan," Someone voiced.

Turning around, Haru saw her friend, Sato Mayumi, hand raised up in her casual, yet chipper, greeting. Her wavy hair tangled in her cream scarf and thin brows raised in delight at her friend. Haru hurried to put away her shoes before returning the gesture with her usual, early morning vigor.

"Hey, Sato-Chan!" Haru greeted, eyes creasing slightly. Sato wrapped her arms around Haru lazily, nuzzling into her shoulder and dragging the poor girl down. Haru moved to grasp her hands around Sato's waist to accommodate for the extra weight, her bag hooked over her shoulder threatening to slip off with every added pound. 

Sato's pleasure at her presence was masked with a light frown as she gazed up at Haru, grey eyes only just visible through her lashes and auburn brown hair: messily curled around her face and down her shoulders. She didn't seem to care for her bag, awkwardly squished between the two of you. Sato groaned faintly and grumbled tiredly under breath, slurred and muffled speech only decipherable to Haru herself. She listened to the girl's interrogation on where she'd been these past three days, giving a guilty, crooked smile.

"I was away sick," Haru said lightly, laughing. "Sorry I didn't call, my phone line’s been down for a while,” she shrugged. “My dad's been trying to fix it." 

Accepting the excuse, Sato lifted herself up and searched her crinkled bag, pulling some papers out and handing them to the girl.

“Here’s the homework you missed,” Sato said. “There isn’t too much and I’ll give you my notes if you want. Though, I’m sure you’ll be fine without them.” A lopsided grin visible on Sato’s face. Haru accepted them with a grateful thank you and they made their way up the stairs to the second year section of the building.

Haru paused after the last step up and turned to Sato. “Let’s stop at the bathroom first,” she said, touching her cherry-stained lips, a faint sticky residue left from the remnants of her gloss: long since dried out. “I need to reapply my lipgloss.”

:D

In front of the bathroom mirror, Haru stared at herself: a small mole under the left corner of her mouth and thick brows shaped nicely after plucking and shaping them the previous night. She brushed her fringe out of the way; dark brown hair framing her face and tied back in its usual, short puff of a ponytail, clips thankfully securing the shorter hairs from flying about. She poked her nose, still faintly blushed from the cold and cheeks: plush and youthful, and cold to the touch. 

She looked to her left.

Sato was already applying another layer of mascara, her dark, thin brows raised and eyes narrowed in concentration with her hair pulled away from her face. Haru could see the girl's usually hidden stud earrings glint under the bathroom’s fluorescent light. Haru reached into her bag, grabbing the gloss and applying a thick, smooth layer of clear, flamingo pink gloss (#F9A7B0); the artificial cherry smell thick in her nose. Gently smacking her lips together to even out the application, she glanced to the side to see Sato offering her a packaged mascara: tape still secured.

“Got these two at a sale,” she said, still admiring herself in the mirror, feigning nonchalance and checking for errors in her application; there were none. She pursed her plush lips together and turned to Haru, face still red from the cold. “You... You can have this one.” 

:^

“It isn’t too obvious right?” Laughed Haru, nervously facing away when teachers passed but still greeting them awkwardly, the gifted mascara was thicker than her usual one (the one she left behind), thus, having herself feel more likely for stern lectures from the school’s monitoring authority (despite the uniform regulations she was already breaking). Sato let out a few low laughs as well, arm linked with Haru and bag freely swinging in her free hand. They slowed down at the class entrance.

“If anyone asks, say we’ve always looked like this. They wouldn’t question our looks further if we act offended, right?” She chuckled, sliding the door open to the classroom. “Ha! Just say your sickness plumped your lips and grew out your lashes or something!” Turning away from the door, both Haru and Sato laughed loudly, gaining the attention of their peers.

“Yamagishi!” She heard, giving a pause in her laugh. It was one of Haru’s classmates: Iori Ken. His messy, black pompadour bouncing when he moved to tuck his leg under himself. He gave a broad grin, faint and sparse freckles showing on the sharp angles of his face, cheeks pinkened from the weather. His friend next to him: Yoshida Takuya, gave a wave to Haru and Sato. He had short, blonde dyed hair and his features were soft; his round eyes naturally held a teasing glint and his friendly demeanour was evident in the way he casually carried himself.

Sato stomped up to them, ready to tell Iori to get off her desk: a bit away from Haru’s desk, she remembered glumly, looking to the girl. Conversation would have to wait until break after the teacher arrived. “Oh. Hey, Mayumi.” 

“Am I seriously just an afterthought?” Sato grumbled, turning back to Iori and throwing her bag by his thigh. “And get your ass off my desk.” She said, kicking his shin lightly while he bitched about ‘ Just washing these pants last night! ’ Iori moved to his desk with little protest, tittering giggles hidden under his breath.

Haru settled into her desk, bag on the ground, opened for easy access to her days books that she was currently pulling out and sliding into the cubby of the desk. She looked at Iori’s friend. 

“Hi Yoshida,” she greeted politely, gloss shining with the rising sun hitting her face. But her smile quickly faded when she looked to the door. He smiled and leaned on the desk next to Haru, ready to strike a conversation with her. He looked down at Haru and spotted a shadow, a look of surprise (moreso a wince and grimace of disgust), had slowly crept up her face. Sato and Iori had also quietened down some. In fact, the class seemed eerily quiet.

Yoshida turned around and came face to chest with a wall of muscle barely masked under a thin purple shirt, stained with the smell of tobacco. Peeking up, he saw the face of Jotaro Kujo; an unwelcoming glare painted his face and sharp eyes narrowed in displeasure. He stepped forward, placing his bag down on the desk Yoshida was currently leaning against. His desk.

Yoshida winced but tried to hide it with a friendly smile, quickly moving to get off the desk. Iori tried to lighten the atmosphere, leaning over and slapping the giants back in a friendly, yet awkward gesture of greeting. 

“H-Hey, Jojo,” he tried, lightly flinching at his friend’s (personally dubbed) irked look. “Where’ve you been, man. You missed the whole week.” Jotaro ignored them, head down and eyes closed. He wasn’t one for chatter. That didn’t stop Iori from conversing with him,  the topic quickly changing to himself and how his week was. Mundane and mindless chatter filled the room again. The tense atmosphere never lifted; always faintly there, but no one seemed to mind.

Sato scoffed. “No one wants to hear about how you spent your night, let alone your week, Ken. The only time you give a substantial conversation is when you whine after getting your ass kicked. If you can even call that substantial ,” she muttered that last part. “Jojo-Kun, must be bored outta his mind.” She turned around and leaned her elbow on her desk chair, offering a teasing grin to Jotaro. “Right?” 

Iori sweatdropped and seemed embarrassed at the cackles coming from Sato as he moved his attention to her, trying to explain how he was interesting and she wasn’t smart enough to engage in any meaningful conversation. As if he wasn’t in the same boat when it came to the topic of intelligence. His augment was shut down with a swift kick to the knee, Iori’s back colliding with the desk behind him. 

He turned around, taken aback that both Yoshida and Sato were trying to talk to Jotaro: completely disregarded after his fall. He looked around and realised no one in the class had even paused their discussions. He grumbled under his breath.

“Back-stabbers. All of you .”

Haru looked on at the (frankly pathetic) attempt at solidarity, head resting on her palm. Yoshida chimed in apprehensively; nervous, but still keen to chat to the delinquent, while Sato didn’t care for any input - continuing on without a care on any miscellaneous thing that came to mind. The hypocrite. It was nice of them, though, she thought. They’d been trying to bond with Jotaro since the start of their second year, even though any attempts were met with his stone-faced annoyance.It was a miracle none of the teens stopped interacting with the brooding hunk, or better yet, came in contact with his fist. Try as Jotaro might to ignore them, the boys sat both in front of him and to his left; with Haru on his right side, leaving him surrounded. Despite having no idea why they were trying so hard, Haru would chime in sometimes. But she barely carried much weight in any of their conversations. She wasn’t close to him and frankly, couldn’t care less about him, which he most likely thought about the rest of her group.

He was a classmate; a friend of a friend. If you could even call her peers attempts at friendship that, she mused: lopsided grin, unwavering stare, and aroused curiosity peeking through her dark eyes. She’ll admit, he was easy on the eyes: shapely jawline, thick brows and lashes, and teal green eyes. But that was all he really was. Behind that, his character was rugged and rotten: he was a delinquent; a loner with a foul mouth, pointed glare, and a penchant for violence. She disliked his disobedient nature that rewound all her hard work to make this class harmonious. He never appreciated her efforts and acted out all the time. This year's class was her worst work yet.

You shouldn’t waste your time with rowdy tyrants like Jotaro , Haru thought cheerily, purposefully excluding Iori and Yoshida, two boys who also had a liking for disorderly conduct. She turned back to grab a book from her desk, seeing as class was almost going to start. The bell rang on time to her notion and kids started returning to their seats. You should ignore him. She smiled and tucked a soft strand of hair behind her ear. You’re too good for that .

The door slid open and their teacher stepped to the podium: giving a prompt greeting to the class before looking over to Haru, who had quickly straightened up.

“Yamagishi-san, if you would please start us off.” His authoritative nature flowed through the class.

Haru perked up and quickly begun the classes morning, as her routine called for everyday: “*Kiritsu!”

Chapter Text

Joot Pov (2nd Pov still)

Morning classes had been a bore for Jotaro, useless droning and useless material. And those oblivious idiots from earlier left him in a bitter mood. He wasn’t too sure why those three always tried so hard to befriend him. It was frankly annoying, unwarranted, and he'd rather be left alone. 

Numerous insults and threats be damned, these fuckers were pests.

As for her… 

He turns to the right and sees Haru, quickly accepting Sato’s notebook from Iori before the teacher turns around. He watches her, jotting down notes with passion into her blue notebook and raising her hand for each and every one of the teacher's questionnaires. Each answer she was called on was correct and when asked, backed with both factual information and the teachers previous rantings, which impressed some, and annoyed others (namely Jotaro). He could feel the pretentious confidence thick in the air and rolled his eyes as she sat back down, legs pressed together and back straight, content, and already back to scribbling. 

He knew she barely tolerated him. It was a given, considering their clashing roles and personalities. But he didn’t care. One less headache that would personally search for ways to entertain their own egos and disregard his need for space. Don’t be mistaken, he could smell the pride and self-importance on her: sour, impatient, and in need of constant attention, he was just appreciative most of it wasn’t aimed at him, rather their class as a whole; as it was her who constantly tried to lift the class’s spirits and keep the peace by preferring to avoid or quickly solve disagreements. 

Key word: tried. 

It was unlike Jotaro to sit back when provoked, and justifyingly so. He felt bad at the aftermath, but if someone needed their ass kicked or ego put in place, Jotaro would see to it that it got done. No later than sundown. The class's harmonious nature quickly dwindling with every punch he dished out. A fact that would continuously piss Haru off. He could see it, the forced cordialness and hurried babbles when an argument involving Jotaro escalated. She would probably rather him out of the class.

Not that he cared. She could think what she wanted to about him.

He gazed down with his eyes narrowed. Her lower thigh exposed from the criss-cross laced slit in her light maroon skirt, abdomen partially visible from her cropped gakuran and short sailor top. She shuffled and crossed her legs, the curve of her knee shyly peeking out. He thought it whorish (thought that is exaggerating his very unbothered opinion), and a weird customisation (much like his chain); but every teacher turned the other cheek, too blinded by her academic records and welcoming, girlish nature. It was how she got away with wearing the boys uniform jacket. Similar to how no one dared to ask Jotaro to take off his hat in class or to remove the thick, gold chain from his gakuran. He thought the look somewhat clashed with her soft face, as did her vigorous and energetic mannerisms. Jotaro realised he was staring when he looked up and caught her eyes: plain and dark, and bland in emotion; contrasting the *pine green of his eyes. She blinked the sparkle back into her eyes after having been caught off guard and gave a forced, yet polite smile. One he didn’t return, though he gave the slightest, unnoticeable nod, before looking back to the board. He heard the small click of her tongue, but paid it no attention as he glanced at the clock, hand rested under his chin. Listening to the rants of his teacher only provided useless information, even if this was one of the few he tolerated.

He instead focused on the ‘Tick-Tock’ -ing of the clock, drowning out the ramblings of his teacher; he knew this already anyway, so he was fine with zoning out. His brain’s intelligence was hidden and only visible to those who graded his tests, if he bothered to hand anything in. Like previously said: he knew this already.

Break should be soon , he thought (if he didn’t count the next class), the high rising sun beaming rays into the illuminated room. The warm atmosphere did little to pacify his mood, ruined by the mindless chatter of this morning. I need a smoke bre- His thought was stopped when the door slipped open, a tall, wimpish male student politely interrupting the teacher.

“Sensei,” he started, cloth in hand to wipe a few specks of blood off his hands. “*Nakamura-Sensei has asked for Yamagishi-Chan's assistance in the nurses office.” 

The teacher mulled for a quick second, muttering a low ‘ Ah ,’ before sending Haru up and out of the classroom a nonchalant wave of his wrist, his granted permission for her leave. She quickly stood up and paced to the door. Jotaro noticed Sato staring as she left, her earlier focus lost. Eyes peering through long lashes and painted nails tapping her soft bottom lip. His line of sight was lost when she turned her head, wavy hair blocking her face. The lazy *kogal bitch tapped her foot frantically, her shortened skirt riding just atop her knee slightly. He hoped he wouldn’t have to listen to it for long. She was annoying enough as is-

Huh?

Something caught Jotaro’s widening eyes. He looked back to Haru, her back facing him as she walked off, a tuff of a blue mane - or hair of sorts? - phasing in and out of her upper back, a faint, blue glow emanating from it. He blinked and it slowly slipped into Haru, the glow quickly fading as well. He tilted his head down, an incredulous glare aimed at her back. Was I just imagining things? He thought. But it wasn’t like him to. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation, looking back up.

One of the girls in the front row waved goodbye to Haru, smiling happily at the returned gesture before Haru stepped out of the class and down the hallway with the boy. 

Maybe I need a break? Or a cigarette? He looked up at the tiled roof. He took a deep breath in.

I might skip afternoon classes…

;D

Haru hurriedly tended to an injured underclassman, cleaning and bandaging the burn wound that covered the underside of the girl’s forearm, careful not to touch the surrounding bruises, reddish in colour. The boy Haru had arrived with busied himself with making up the medical beds and clearing the table of scattered pills and liquid medicine, while Mrs Nakamura helped a student with what was presumably the flu. Both he and Haru were Mrs Nakamura’s right hand students - able to be excused from class if the situation called for it, to aid Mrs Nakamura with injured peers.

“Thanks, Yamagishi-Senpai,” the underclassman said, familiar with Haru and happy her wounds were tended to gently by someone she deemed reliant and trustworthy. Haru paused her medical care and asked what happened, as she had forgotten to before. The girl looked embarrassed, playing with her bangs before shyly admitting she was burned in the student kitchens during class. 

“One of the boys spilled some oil on my arm by accident. I-it wasn’t his fault, really. And our pan caught fire at the same time and it spread to my arm. I… I screamed the class down.” She muttered sheepishly, faintly red in the face. The girl yelped when the bandage was pulled a bit too tight.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Haru winced, an apologetic thinning of her lips pulling her face into a frown, slowing down her care to a gentler pace.

With red-tipped ears, the underclassman smiled shyly and waved her hand dismissively. Finally, Haru finished up and rolled the girls' sleeves back down, carefully unravelling the cloth with her fingertips. After getting up to wash her hands, Haru grabbed a packet of paracetamol and some scissors. She gave the girl information regarding the packet and her burn after cutting off a section containing four pills, passing it to the girl with a glass of water. To reduce any swelling, she advised she keep her arm up. Feeling cared for enough, the girl guiltily declined Haru's suggestion to write a note to her teachers, asking her to skip her afternoon classes. Haru dismissed her excuses and wrote a note, getting Mrs Nakamura’s signature - the woman hurriedly signing then returning to the boy she was caring for - before walking back to the girl with a gleeful smile.

“I’ll deliver this to your teachers. You can stay here for the rest of this period and the next. You can relax until lunch, at least.” The girl flushed and bowed 3 times, thanking Haru, who laughed lightheartedly and called over the boy from earlier, lean in stature and introduced him as *Ito Genji. He gave a small smile at Haru then at the underclassman. “He’ll look after you until the end of class, you can rest assured, ” she turned to him and grinned, “he’ll take good care of you!”

The shy girl seemed very appreciative, multiple ‘ thank you ’s sputtered to both the seniors.

Haru brightened. “Just leave it to us upperclassmen!”

:>

The fragrance of the cleaning solution blended with the heavy plume of smoke that flew out from Jotaro's cigarette. To relieve the stress in his shoulders, he leaned against the sink and took a long, hard drag of his cigarette. The bathroom was smoky as he relaxed and let out a deep breath, making no effort to blow the vapors out the window, the smoke alarms long since broken. The stall doors were rusting just a little bit, the sinks were still wet from their last use, and the flooring was worn. As to be expected from this bathroom. It was the furthest away in the campus from the weekly crowd; thus, barely cared for and mostly only used for a quick bang, or in Jotaro's case: a much needed smoke break.

He looked up at the mold on the ceiling, contemplating his day. Then he remembered. That flash of blue fur he saw from his classmate. Yamagishi Haru… he thought, wrapping his lips around the cigarette once more, pursing down on it slightly and sinking his hands into his pockets. He closed his eyes.

It was nothing too important, but his mind kept going back to that one time in class. It reminded him of something he saw earlier. 

-   >  - 

It was at home, one morning before he left for school. Jotaro was drinking from a glass, underestimating the grip he needed for it, causing it to slip from his hand. By reflex, he swiped down in an unsuccessful attempt to stop it from falling. When he missed, he expected a sharp clash to be heard. He could already imagine his mother, hurrying down the hallway in her nervous prance, thinking her precious son might’ve hurt himself (she would, of course, be mistaken, as he rarely ever hurt himself. And when he did, his mother didn’t have to know)

But there was no sound.

A purple arm, gloved with gold dusted iron studs had made its way from behind Jotaro to grab the glass, an inch from the floor. Jotaro flinched and spun around swiftly, only to be met with the view of the kitchen island behind him: clean, neat, and garnished with a decorative bowl of fruit. Nothing purple was visible behind him. He looked to his right, then to his left. Nothing. Just an arm stretching from being him, offering the glass; the water unspilled inside.

He reached out, apprehensive and nervous, and took the glass. The arm slipped back behind him. Jotaro turned around again. Nothing. A full turn around the kitchen and he was fruitless. Left wondering what just happened.

-  3  -

Jotaro blew out the smoke and snuffed it against the sink, leaving its hot ash to sizzle under the dripping tap, before sitting back up and out of the bathroom, back to class. 

He’ll leave during lunch.

;^

Jotaro walked down the hall, thick gold chain on his gakuran clacking with every movement and sway of his shoulders. He could feel the air changing, becoming livelier with every step past the first year classes he took. He heard footsteps echoing down the steps, the same way he was heading furrowed his brows slightly. Looking up, he saw Haru, bouncing down the last step and turning his way to walk down the hall he just came from. She glanced up, long and darkened eyelashes blinking in surprise at his presence. She caught his gaze as she continued, eye contact not broken between either of them. She offered a half-heart nod of acknowledgment and continued on. 

But he noticed it again.

That glowing tuft of blue hair. It was more prominent now; descending down from her neck to the hem of her jacket like a short mane, flowing through the air as if it was submerged in water. It was a faint, greyish-blue color and appeared velvety soft. His heart jumped in his chest as he recalled the purple arm from that morning. Chest twisting nervously at the possible connection. His breathing quickened a bit.

Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her back. She yipped, turning to face him, her shoulder awkwardly pulled backwards. 

She yelped at the ache and tried to pull away, freaked out. But his hand barely moved, his shaking fist tightening its bruising grip. Both he and his shadow towered over her, dark and menacing. What the fuck? She looked up and prepared to yell, but paused when she got a proper look at his shadowed face: immediately intimated and scared into silence His lips were pulled into a quivering snarl, brows furrowed in confusion, and his eyes: a berserk, unconcentrated gleam that pierced right through her. Her heart leapt out of her chest and her legs felt restless and weak, the need to run coursing through her. His eyes seemed to blink manually and he looked her up and down, zoning in on her neck.

“You…” he started, looking at the blue hair. “What are- What do you…” he didn’t speak for a while, too busy looking at her neck and mulling over his next words.

I…Should I try to de-escalate this ? Haru thought, noticing he was barely present, thoughts somewhere else entirely. Maybe he was confused? Or annoyed? No excuse really felt plausible to the situation (though him being annoyed was actually quite plausible, to be fair), she started nonetheless: her lips upturned in an uneasy smile. 

“S-sorry Kujo-Kun…” she began, unsure of what was happening or why she was stuck in this brooding mess. He focused back on her. 

“You’re- you must be mad because… I didn’t greet you properly (??), right? M-” she swallowed the lump in her throat and held back a fearful grimace. “My bad, I was, uh, preoccupied.” she gave him a smile and tried to tug her arm away, still freaked out. She couldn’t even convince herself his behaviour was anything that could be remotely feasible.

“That must be it right? Sorry, Kujo-Kun.”Haru sweatdropped. She has no idea how she came to this conclusion, but she might as well roll with it. He was gaining consciousness, so keep going!

He was even more confused, frowning this time. He didn't speak up at all and just stared at her like she was an idiot.

“Did you need anything else?” She asked, ears red with embarrassment and patience cracking and wearing dangerously thin; her lip curled into a barely concealed snarl. She was eager to get away from him. But the guy never let up his grasp on her. She pulled again. He looked down at his hand, holding Haru’s arm in a tense grip. His normal stone face returned and he tossed away her arm, pushing her back. He didn’t really know what he even wanted to ask Haru, the questions were all muddled in his brain. He tried but the words lost as he became aware of Haru's face, snarled in fear and aggression, and the blue hair from before: reappearing then quickly slinking back away and into her back. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, losing the confidence to question you. He’ll ask when he’s more prepared. He turns to you, apologetic glance unnoticeable to the untrained eye anyone that ever looked his way. 

“Doesn’t matter.”

He walked off, up the stairs, and away from Haru.

She just stands there. Clueless as to what had just occurred. She wasn’t stupid enough to actually believe her apology was the reason he was mad. So what the fuck just happened?  Was that seriously just for- what? Nothing? For fun?

“Doesn’t matter,” she repeats.

/╯﹏╰\

“The hell does he mean ‘Doesn’t matter’!” she yells, pulling at her fringe, Iori listening to Haru’s cries as he munches on fried rice. His legs crossed on the empty desk in front of Haru. He swallowed.

“Maybe he needed something.” He said. Haru gritted her teeth.

“That much was obvious, Iori-Kun!”

“Yamagishi-San!” a teacher called, her head peeking from the doorway. It was the new English teacher.

“Yes, Sensei!” Haru said, standing up. Confident stature and pleasant smile plastered back on her face within milliseconds, the flowers and sparkles were almost visible. She paced to the door, keen on not keeping the teacher waiting. Iori stared, mouth slightly agape. Yoshida wiped away a stray piece of rice from his friend's face, less fazed by the quick change in her mood. He bit the straw of the pineapple juice he bought and thought about this afternoon's classes.

“Math to end off the day, huh?”

(>‿♥)

"What did you need, Sensei!” Haru asked, eager to revert back to her happier self. A much needed distraction!  

The English teacher was nervous, meekly asking if Haru would be alright to deliver Jotaro’s homework to his house.

“He missed all of last week.” she mulled. “And I seem to have missed him today, he might’ve gone home.” she looked at Haru, a guilty frown on her face. “I know I was tasked with it, but do you think you could  please take these to him? I have to leave early today for an appointment, and won’t be back.”

Just great . Haru gave a carefree laugh, waving off the teacher's concerns. “Oh! Don’t worry so much, Sensei. I’ve got this all under control.” She held her hand in an ‘OK’ sign. “No problem!” Truth be told, she'd rather do anything but interact with him again that day, but oh well.

The teacher lit up a smidge, taking the girls hands in her own.

“Thank you, Yamagishi-San!” she opened her satchel and pulled out an abundant stack of neglected papers. “You’re helping me so much!” She handed Haru a carton of flavoured milk as a gift and clasped her hands together. Why did she even have this?

“Jotaro has been absent a lot this year, i noticed, but seeing you and your friends interact with him has made me so happy! I’m glad he’s got a reliable friend such as you. I’m sure he’ll be back on track in no time!” She quickly thanked Haru and then waved goodbye before hurrying off down the hallway.

Haru waved back, milk in hand. That was it: the sparkles were gone.

Seriously?

Chapter Text

Can you guys see the images?

this is Yoshida Takuya (his nose looks kinda off tho):

Iori Ken (kinda ugly ngl):

Sato Mayumi!:

And Yamagishi Haru:

As you can see, i gave up on my attempt at the jojo art style lol.

And this is from the previous chapter when Haru is called to give Joots homework!

Finished ver ^^:

Thank you ^^

Chapter Text

The journey to Jotaro's address was serene and calm; the trees preferred to murmur through the winds with quiet shuffling and the birds' chirps had long since dissipated. The path was damp with old dew, clacking noise heard with each step of Harus loafers, their golden buckles glinting in the sunlight. The wind and frost had settled since this morning, leaving a warm, fresh aroma in the air, which was undoubtedly strengthened due to the street's cleanliness. It was the wealthier part of the suburbs, after all. Haru was grateful to know these streets like the back of her hand, which meant she could immediately recognize the address. 

The long white wall Haru had passed was imposing: definitely owned by the Kujo family. She opened the gate and stepped in, slabbed-concrete path leading to the entrance of the Kujo estate; just as grand and commanding. Peeking behind the house was the courtyard's lush, reddened trees: somehow unbothered by the change into autumn.

Haru rang the doorbell, intent on delivering Jotaro’s homework and to ask him what happened earlier. After some deep thinking, she came to the conclusion that what’s bothering him was something she could help with. It made sense: he was going to ask her anyway, but hesitated at the last second. To hell with ignoring Jotaro! If she helped him, he might be so grateful for her efforts,and in return, become more manageable in class as compensation. This was it: A step back into her harmonious school life!

Haru glimmered with hope. She could picture it now: Jotaro would look at her, and pull his cap down bashfully, a smile finally painted on his ugly mug!

“Yamagishi-San, ” he’d say. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I now see all the effort you put into this class and accept my role in your harmonious school life! ” He’d stare into her eyes, Not a single doubt left.

“Thank you, Yamagishi Haru!” She accidentally said aloud, squeaking with delusional excitement. 

She froze and looked around, hoping no one saw her. Wait a minute. Haru looked back to the door; still shut and no sign of noise in the house. She’d been waiting for a while, having time to imagine a whole perfectly plausible scenario, and no one had answered the door. Haru was sure she was waiting there for a solid minute. Maybe no one was home.

Maybe… Should I just leave them in the mailbox ? She thought, thinking it best to leave and talk to him at school. She felt a little disappointed; she had hyped herself up for this very moment. Would her chance for peace take a little longer? She scrunched her face.

“No!” She slapped her cheeks, a painful sting that brought her out of brooding. “You came here with a purpose Yamaishi Haru! No going back now!”

She rang it again, surely no one must’ve heard it the first time. Or everyone was taking their sweet time traversing through the house to the door? Seriously, no answer? She clicked her tongue; third time’s the charm, right? Finger at the ready on the button, she held it down a little longer than the last time. The door slid open fast, hitting the other side with a harsh clack. Haru jumped, quickly pulling her finger off the doorbell.

She peered up, greeted by the overwhelming scent of tobacco and cologne that stabbed her nose. It was Jotaro, still in his uniform but minus the signature hat. He looked down at her, frowning and almost ready to burst based on the growing crease of his brows. Haru didn’t know someone could show that much anger on their face. Before he could say anything, she dug in her bag and pulled out his homework and held it out to him with both of her hands.

“I’m here to deliver your homework!” Haru said, cringing at the voice crack. Damn it, that was too loud. She cleared her throat. “I was asked to give this to you so you wouldn’t be behind in anything.” This was perfect , she thought. My perfect chance!

Jotaro didn’t move. He made no effort to grab the papers from Haru and left her arms raised: waiting. They stood like this for a bit. Haru spiraled, wondering why he wasn’t doing anything. Should she place them on the floor? No, that’s rude! What about leading the conversation away? She felt it wasn’t right to say anything at that moment. But he still hadn’t shifted in any way, the tension was growing thick and pungent and Haru just felt like sprinting off. Her face was going cherry by the second, the absence of sound flaming the heated feeling on her cheeks.

Fuck it, just talk.

“Ah.” Damn it, I got nothing! “Um, Kujo-Kun. I’ve also been meaning to talk about what happened earlier.” She saw a shuffle. Good, she got his attention.

She looked up at him, lowering her arms, stuffing the paper away, and stepping closer to the door, determined to aid the boy. “As class president and vice president of the student council, don’t hesitate to rely on me! I’ll be sure to help you in any way that I can if something is bothering you!” Okay, coming on strong there. “You can leave it to me, Kujo-Kun.”

He gaped just the tiniest bit.

“You stopped me in the hall because something was bothering you, right?” Haru huffed with excitement, hands balling into fists. “Then it’s definitely something I can help with. You can trust me to lend an ear.” Her eyes gleamed, her life was going to be peaceful again, as soon as Jotaro told her what he needed from her. He contemplated but looked back at her, eyes a bit softer and brows less creased. Maybe she could help him. Haru could see it, he was gonna open up! 

“Do you have trouble studying?” She pondered. Haru put a hand over her mouth, sly grin covered. “Lady problems, perhaps?” 

He breathed in and asked Haru something, carefully mulling over his words.

“Tell me. What is on your back.”

“What,” Haru said aloud, taken aback. She turned around and tried to stretch her arms behind her. She blushed. “Has there been something on my back all day?” Haru put her bag on the ground, and took off her jacket, flipping it over. Nothing. She focused her attention back on Jotaro, one thick brow raised in confusion.

Jotaro gritted his teeth at your cluelessness. Fed up, he pointed to a spot on your gakuran. A small golden shape etched into the fabric; a sharp, curved arrow pointing down and a line halving the length of it. 

    (similar to this draft, maybe? Sorry if it isn't visible)

“That.” He was pointing at the hair that was poking out of the jacket. Thinking he finally solved something when you made a noise of recognition, he felt a bit relieved. If you knew what it was, you may be able to help Jotaro with his spirit related issue, he knew they must be connected somehow. And if they weren’t, he’d still have a confidant with a similar issue to his own, even if you were big-headed.

“That badge-thing? It’s been here since my upperclassman had the jacket.” Jotaro frowned. He wasn't pointing at that. Could you really not see it? Were you blind? His prior irritation was coming back fast. If you couldn’t see it, he didn’t need you right now, which he thought similarly about the homework you were sent to deliver. It seemed you really had no use. 

He’ll see you tomorrow in class, today’s meeting is over.

“I don’t really know if it means anything but it’s kinda cool.” Haru looked up at Jotaro, unaware of both his disappointment and his birthing vexation. “Is that what was bothering you?” She grinned. Maybe she mistook him. He must not be able to voice his thoughts all the time if all this work was needed for such a small request. Perhaps a shy fellow? She pushed aside the thought that he has beaten up multiple people and was never shy when it came to complaints or insults. Haru can work with this. 

“Well-” 

“We’re done here.”

She was cut off. The door slid by Haru’s face, hitting the tip of her nose. It was so sudden that Haru was still smiling. She touched her throbbing nose with no change in emotion. After coming to, she just gaped.

H-He left!? Haru heard the footsteps leading away from the entrance. Her soul flipped and hit the floor. She barked out in disbelief, grabbing her head. 

“He’s gone!”

(  >  3 * )

It was the next day and Haru was at the class podium next to the teacher, passionately writing on the board, eager to hype the class for their upcoming winter festival hosted at the school. She was taking suggestions from keen students and the overall mood was light and merry, Jotaro having thankfully probably skipped first class. Numerous hands were in the air and students joked their way through homeroom, happily conversing with Haru. She was beaming. This was what she loved: that air of joyful banter, not too rowdy and still organised. It was perfect. She breathed in deeply. Yeah, this was the life. She was too happy to even remember that…

That…

Her mood soured and the tip of the chalk broke off, unaware of the look the teacher gave her. That shameful moment! Haru had sprinted home that night (papers still in her bag), straight to her room to scream and kick the embarrassment away, rolling under her messy covers and squeezing her stuffed animals tightly. If they were alive before, they wouldn’t be now. She clicked her tongue and felt the overwhelming need to bite something.

“Yamagishi-Chan!” One of the girls called. Haru reverted back to normal and indulged the classmate with her attention. Said girl was suggesting what their class could do, manicured finger to her chin. “What about selling baked goods and sweets, but making them cute?”

Haru wrote it down, a twist on a basic activity. “Good idea!” Before anyone could continue listing, the slid open Revealing Jotaro, who promptly shut down the chatter and excitement in the room. He stepped in, unfazed, and walked to his seat. He passed Haru, smoky scent hitting again while she looked the other way, gritting her teeth. Where was something to gnaw on when you needed it? The only ones who seemed remotely happy were Iori and Yoshida. Sato wasn’t even awake to register his arrival.

The teacher caught eyes with Jotaro; stern, black eyes meeting Jotaro’s. Green and uncaring. The teacher's eyes narrowed but he returned his sight to the other students, he’ll let it slide. His eyes widened.

“That’s right,” he looks to Haru, who is currently looking the furthest thing from Jotaro’s direction, red in the face. He sweatdrops. “We’ll be welcoming a new student pretty soon.” This caught both the attention of Haru and some of her classmates.

“Really?” Haru said, tilting her head. “This late into the school year?” The teacher put his hand on his neck, shrugging.

“It’s a pretty sudden transfer and I don’t know the specifics. Though, even if I did, I still couldn’t tell you guys.” He looked to the students, eagerly listening to this new information like water to a sponge. “I’m just giving you guys a heads up, be sure to welcome them when they arrive.” 

The class lets out a collective murmur of agreement, waking Sato up. She wiped the drool from her lips, smudging her gloss into her sleeve and blinked in quick succession to adjust to the difference in light.

“Huh?"

The teacher buried his face in his hand. This certainly was an eccentric bunch, he guessed.

(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) 

Jotaro looked down, face hidden by his cap. But upon hearing a grating squeak, he tilted his head up and came face to face with both Yoshida and Iori, sly grins plastered on their playful faces. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, whatever they were scheming, he wanted no part in it. It didn’t help that he still hadn’t found out anything about the things he was seeing. 

“Hey, Jobro, my man.” Iori said, settling in front of Jotaro and brushing a curl back into his small pompadour. Yoshida leaned his elbow on Jotaro’s desk, round eyes glinting with a knowing look.

“So… What’s up with you and Yamagishi, she looks mega embarrassed,” Iori spoke, slightly hushed, eyebrows raised and eyes narrowed slightly. “Only happened when you came in.”

Yoshida rested his chin on his hand. “Did you do something to piss her off? She went to your house yesterday, right?”  He focused his brown gaze on Jotaro. “ You give Yama-chan the ‘ol ‘fuck and run’ treatment-”

Sato’s book came flying into Yoshida’s forehead, effectively shutting him up. “Shut up, weirdo.” She said, scooting over to the trio. She plonked herself down on Jotaro’s right, hair messy and sticking up in some places. She smoothed any frizz and gave Jotaro a tired smile, quickly wiped away with a yawn hidden behind her pale hand. “Why’d you wanna know that?”

She gave him an annoyed look, pink lips faintly frowned at the thought of Haru being thought of so promiscuously. 

Yoshida waved a hand shyly at Sato, pink on the ears at the accusation. “It was just an example, Sato-Cha-” 

“Hah? Butt out Mayumi, this is guy talk!” Iori yelled, pushing his hand into her face to get her away from the table. The two started squabbling under their breaths after being told to quieten down by the teacher, who was aiding some kids with homework. Jotaro wished he hadn’t bothered to come today. He looked to Haru, who was busy at the front. He gakuran was off as it was deemed a warm enough day for it. Past Sato, he saw the gakuran hung up on her chair, clean and uncrinkled. The weird looking arrow stitched onto the back, Jotaro was unsure if it was a badge, like Haru had said, or a patch: It glinted in the sun too much to be a patch, but too flat to be a badge. It was strange. He glared a little harder when the hair showed itself again, a teasing flutter in the nonexistent wind was made before slipping back inside. Jotaro was getting angry with all these tiny occurrences that mocked his sanity. Iori caught him staring at the desk.

“The hell’re you looking at?” he asked. Jotaro turned back to them, letting out a sigh.

“Nothing.” Iori didn’t look too convinced but quickly blew over that and changed the subject 

“Anyway,” he started. “I came over because I thought we should go out tonight. There’s this tiny marketplace that’s open and they should be doing some cool stuff there, or at least, selling food. If not, we can still just hang out or go to a convenience store. Karaoke maybe, but none of us really sing.” He looked at Jotaro. “How about it?”

Jotaro was almost immediately going to decline but was stopped by Yoshida, agreeing to the notion. 

“That sounds good. We should definitely do that.” 

“No-”

“Yeah, we should totally do that! It’s decided.” Sato gushed excitedly, now fully awake at the promise of fun. She turned to yell out to Haru, the teacher having stepped out of the room. “Yama-Chan!” Haru looked away from the board and over to Sato. “Let’s hangout later!” 

Haru was too unprepared to answer, just giving a nod. Her dark eyes glanced at Jotaro, squeamish shudder when she realised he was already looking, a perfectly visible grimace on his face that everyone seemed to ignore. He just wouldn’t show up, Jotaro mused. He tuned out the surrounding chatter and closed his eyes. Just wait it out. They’ll eventually bore their minds out and go back to their seats, forgetting about this instant like their small brains usually do.

“We’ll pick you up, Jojo-Kun!”

“Like hell you are.”

;3

“Still in your uniform, huh Jojo?” Yoshida chuckled, legs folded and hand holding up a hot, soothing cup of tea. It seems Jotaro’s mother, Kujo Holly, had so kindly made some afternoon snacks for the group currently invading his estates tea room. Jotaro just stood there, he must be very crazy at this point. All his problems in one room, enjoying tea with his mother (save for the evil spirit possessing him). 

“Don’t worry about that, Haru had to stay behind for student council business,” Sato said, munching on a star-shaped cookie Holly had given her. “So she’s still in hers as well. No big deal.” He looked over to Haru, she was no doubt the reason they found his address. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but at the table, barely listening to Holly reminisce to the four teens about Jotaro's childhood. Holly smiled.

“Easy for you to say. You’re all dolled up and pretty!”

“Aww, thanks, Yama-Chan!”

“Oh! Jotaro, honey, you never mentioned anything about your friends.” She said, “They’ve just told me of your group's plan for tonight. Ahh, how wonderful.” Holly put a hand to her cheek, girlish giggles coming from her, accompanied by a blushing face.

“My Jotaro, connecting with his classmates. I’m so happy!”

“I’m not connecting with anyone, stupid woman.”

“Of course, dear!”

She wasn’t listening. Jotaro huffed and pulled the tip of his cap down. This was starting to stress him out, and by the look of Haru’s sunken face, she was feeling it too. He’s not too sure why she looks so dead, maybe she’s tired? Doesn’t matter too much. He looked to his mother. Intent on getting his point across, though, it shouldn’t have been this difficult. His greenish eyes made contact with hers.

“I’m not goin-”

“Ah!” Sato jumped up, looking at her watch. “It’s getting late, we should hurry.” This jolted Holly from her spot on the floor. “Thank you for having us, ma’am, your house is pretty neat” Sato chugged her tea and bowed to the woman.

“Oh yes! You guys get going now, thank you so much for stopping by.” She ushered everyone to the doors, even Jotaro. Arriving at the entrance, all four students bid the missus farewell, bowing and waving goodbye, Haru doing so via auto-pilot. Holly waved to the teens that were dragging her son away, hopping up and down gleefully.

“Have fun! Please visit again.”

Oh my god, Jotaro thought. Was his suffering really that comedic to some higher, omnipotent being? He pulled his cap down. Despite all prior protest, he’s going to the marketplace. He sighed and relented to fate. 

Good grief…

Chapter Text

The outing appeared to have been a well-needed break for Jotaro; his worry was still present, but it was drowned out by the music and fits of laughter from his peers, jokes by the truck full, it was borderline bearable, better than he anticipated. He swished the canned drink in his hand, gifted by Sato, and took a large swig of its contents. 

The group was in front of him, trying to find five matching necklaces and bracelets for the clique to sport. Iori turned and noticed Jotaro in the distance, he pulled the giant to the stall to pick a cheap beaded necklace, mentioning they had already picked him a bracelet that matched his eyes but were stumped on the second option. The shop didn’t offer as near a perfect shade of cool, pine green that the bracelet had.

“We could always go black,” Yoshida said, flicking a wrist at his short hair as a gesture. “Matches your hair. Or purple maybe. You seem like a green and purple guy, what about orange?” He pointed a baseball bat at Jotaro. “You like Halloween?”

“Where’d you get that bat?” Iori asked. 

“I won it.”

“When? You were right next to us.”

Jotaro quirked a brow. “What kind of vendor gives a baseball bat as a prize?”

Yoshida shrugged and spun it around, mindful of the people around him. Sato admired the different colours, opting to choose from the more bright and warming shades. “Y’know, Jojo-Kun, you’re the only one we can really go off for eye colour,” Sato said, bringing the attention back to the bracelet. She grabbed Iori’s face and turned him to Jotaro, pointing at his eye. “The rest of us have pretty bland eye colours, so basing our picks on that will be too boring. Ahhh, I don’t really know what to get! You have it easy, Jojo-kun…” 

He gave her a miffed look. Why wouldn’t she just get a colour she liked?

“Mayumi, let go of me.”

Jotaro huffed and looked at Haru. She had just purchased two bracelets, one was a soft, feminine blue, she was already putting it on. The other, she moved to tap Sato on the shoulder and offered up the second bracelet; one with yellow beads that had faint parts of red or green merged in them. They looked like tiny, round mangoes. She looked a bit embarrassed when she noticed Jotaro’s eyes on her, but moved on.

“Sato-Chan,” she started, grabbing the girl's hand away from Iori and placing the bracelet in her palm, she drew her hand back and twirled her fringe with a manicured finger, blue patterned bracelet dangling under the gakuran. She avoided eye contact, dark eyes bashfully hiding under her mascaraed lashes. “I think this one would suit you.”

Sato just paused and looked at Haru, faintly pink in the face and mouth slightly ajar. She started squealing and pushed Iori away into Jotaro, indulging herself in Haru’s arms like she usually did, though, this time with way more vigor. Yoshida sweatdropped when Iori quickly uprighted himself after clinging to Jotaro's jacket, trying not to slip on the frosted wetness that layered the ground, Jotaro himself was motionless, just looking downward at the pitiful action. Yoshida could feel the judgement in Jotaro's eyes and pretended to busy himself with admiring the marketplace’s festive lighting in the trees, swinging his prize like a cane.

“Ahh! You’re so cute Haru-Chan!” Sato said, squeezing Haru and snuggling her face against Harus, making her feel awkward at the looks they were getting; a few elderly couples chuckling at the cute show of affection.

“Don’t get so ahead of yourself, Mayumi.” Iori muttered, pretending he wasn’t just clutching onto his classmate for stability. He knew Sato usually had a tendency to ignore boundaries, so he thought Haru might’ve been uncomfortable with her being so brazen. But Haru waved him off with a trying smile.

“It’s alright, Iori-Kun,” Haru said, holding her friend by the small of her back, as Sato had reverted back to lazing her weight on the girl. Sato’s arms were wrapped tight around the girl's neck, faint perfume like an invisible glow; smelling clean, smooth, and sweet. Haru liked the smell, tightening her own hands to hug the girl. She closed her eyes.

“Can I call you *Haru?” Sato whispered, mouth close to Haru’s ear. Haru’s nervousness of the day and embarrassment of the last washed away. She felt this was something she needed deep down, a warm embrace. She wasn’t so mad and sunken anymore. Sometimes, Sato had that effect on her, like her own nonchalance would rub off onto Haru and free her. She felt content, like her life sung the softest song. It calmed her; peaceful and melodic. This was perfect. Snuggled into Sato’s hair, giggly and light in her heart. 

“Of course,” she whispered.

Sato unwrapped herself from Haru and looked around, noticing the empty spot where Jotaro was. Yoshida saw this and gave an unsure grin. The chatter was a bit louder, so he spoke up clearly.

“Jojo left to find somewhere to sit.” 

“What about the necklace?” Sato asked. Iori shrugged.

“He didn’t want one, said the bracelet was enough.” 

“I guess that's alright, he probably wouldn’t wear a necklace, anyway.” Sato mused, ignoring the fact that Iori would have to be made to actually wear his (he wouldn’t win). The air was louder, a few manic yells and laughs mixing together.

Haru looked back to the stall and saw a ring. Silver and simple, with a tiny sea green gemstone engraved in the metal. The tiniest, chiseling detail etched finely around the gem. With permission from the merchant, she held it up for the group to see.

“What about this?” Yoshida got really close to the ring, pursing his lips in thought.

“Yeah, he’d like that,” he said. Haru paid the merchant and thanked him when he put the ring in a small bag. She handed it over to Sato to look at, who hummed in delight and handed it back to Haru. 

“I’m hungry. Let’s go meet up with Jojo and get something to eat from here after.” Iori seconded the notion and they collected themselves to head out and find Jotaro. Yoshida heard some frenzied prattle and looked far ahead, past the market, something caught his attention. Sato bumped shoulders with Haru and grabbed her hand, entangling her fingers with Haru’s, face bright and happy, no sign of her usual lethargy. She was oblivious to the rise in the air.

“Let’s find something tasty to eat after, Haru-Chan!” 

Haru smiled, eyes creased and relaxed, fingers entwined. Everything was perfect.

(˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

Jotaro let out a loud sigh, tense shoulders relaxing just the littlest bit. He drank the remnants of juice from his can and threw it on the floor, crushing it under his foot with minimal effort. He crossed his legs and leaned back, closing his eyes. With a deep breath, he smelled the air: the musty, fresh scent of *petrichor mixed with the sizzling foods from the marketplace stalls was faint in his senses. He was far enough where the music and collective prattle only whispered to him. It was nice and hushed. It gave him the peace to wrap his head around his thoughts. 

He thought about his main problem: the evil spirit. He didn’t really know what to do. It would bring him tiny things; a rock it found or a leaf. It wasn’t anything scary, but it wasn’t too comforting to find his once empty hand filled with wet leaves or dirty rocks. He would scrunch it up or toss it on the floor, uncaring of its treasure. He kept maybe one or two of the rocks, agreeing with the spirit on their attractiveness. 

The problem was when he fought. It has only happened once, currently. A short punk whose ego towered over his head. Jotaro didn’t mean to, but the arms of the spirit just picked up the guy and threw him. Comically, into an open dumpster down the back alley of a convenience store. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it, the tiny fucker got all up on Jotaro’s nerves, but it was getting worse. It chucked a cat away from his leg and when Jotaro woke up in the middle of the night, tired and unable to sleep, it ripped his *pillow in half. 

Jotaro was getting increasingly worried the longer it took for him to find his answers. He’d also rather involve as little a number of people as possible. He was unwilling to ask for Haru’s help, but gave in. Not that she was able to give him anything. He didn’t want to involve his mother, but it felt like it was going to be that way. It was slowly dissolving into something worse, and Jotaro just needed something like a crony at least. He thought about the people he had just left, leaving them to fester in their overly sentimental gestures undisturbed. Specifically the more affluent one. Yamagishi. He tried to get her aid, but Haru was unable to see his problem.

He thought deeper. You seemed to be trying in your attempts to coax him out of his fretting, something he’ll give you some credit for. Maybe he’d just admit his issue straight up and take it from there. If you laughed and called him crazy, well he’d just have to move on. He frowned. But if you thought he was telling the truth and tried to help, then he’d have his comrade-

He stopped when he heard fast footsteps, he opened his eyes and turned from the sky. A few people were running away from something behind him. The marketplace in that same direction. He stood up and turned around. On the outskirts of the marketplace he saw something, he squinted. A group of drunk guys were fighting, wearing similar clothes. There were two boys in casualwear that they ganged upon and an injured elder was off to the side, preyed on by a man with nunchucks. He was protected by some girl trying to fend off the guy and hold him down. An elderly man was trying to limp off with the help of a little kid.

Four people in a heated fight with a large group of both teens and grown men. He gritted his teeth and made his way over. He felt something deep within him carve its way out, festering and infecting his mind.

It was his classmates.

(¬`､´¬)

Yoshuda looked off away from the marketplace, straight to the far off parking lot occupied by some drunk, manic men. They were laughing and yelling while bullying an old man, a child cowering behind him. Yoshida picked up his pace and made his way over. His heart raced and he started sprinting when one of the men pulled out a weapon. Iori was fast behind him, Sato, and Haru followed, running. Their legs were quick and barely touched the ground, the slap and clack of shoes rapid. The change of scent and atmosphere went from festive and comforting, to chill and sinister very quick. People were surprised at their odd spectacle, not noticing the distant cries just yet.

“Hey!”

Yoshida reached them and ran past the cronies, straight to the one stalking up to the old man and shielded the man, opting to not use his conveniently won bat just yet, there was a kid. The old man let out a sound of rushed relief, exiting his body all at once. The drunk man paused.

“Picking on those weaker than you,” he started, readying the bat, “Pathetic man! Any closer and I’ll beat your red fucking face in!” He barked and spread his stance just a bit more. Three of his friends had arrived, but were behind the small crowd of men. His heart raced. He didn’t want to fight, having been far less experienced than Iori, but he steadied his shaking knees. He was ready to do what was necessary if they didn’t back off.

The man tilted his face back and smirked. Around him, a couple of his allies pulled out weapons, differing from simple knives, to bats, to dented metal poles. The man in front of Yoshida picked at a pair of *nunchaku clipped to his belt. Yoshida's heart skipped. He braced himself. So did his friends, more or less used to the odd fight once in a while.

He hoped the man wasn’t experted in his weapon.

A hush swept through the crowd, everyone staring at each other, preparing themselves. The elderly man pushed the child closer to his leg, arm in front to hide him and what he would see.

Haru looked at Sato. “If it comes down to it,” she whispered. “We’ll run and get the police.” Sato looked at her, face serious. She nodded subtly. She of all them was the least experienced in any sort of fight. Iori and Haru could fight, and Yoshida had the weapon. Sato wished Jotaro was here right now. All of them did.

The red faced man spun his nunchucks and barked out a laugh behind grinned, gritted teeth.

He started.

He swung at Yoshida, who blocked with his weapon and pushed back, throwing his own swing at the man, his bat colliding with the side of his skull.

As a result, another man helped his leader while another 4 took on Sato, Haru, and Iori. The rest were just waiting to the far side, ready to be tagged in. Iori got in front of the girls and tried to act as the tank of their hits, while Sato and Haru ran around them, splitting their mobs' focus between more space. One guy with a knife approached Haru. She positioned her fists and he lunged, hand thrown in an unpractised thrust. She lowered herself and moved to the side, he was wide open because of his haughty and overconfident attack. She grabbed his attacking arm and used her own arms to both twist his awkwardly and to jab down into his elbow. At the unmistakable sound of a pop of his joints and crack of his bones, he dropped the knife and let out a cry. With that, she grabbed ahold of his neck and swept him over, pushing his face into the floor.

He yelled and turned around as best he could, driving his foot into her stomach when she let go, launching Haru away. He ran up to Haru and tried to stomp on her face, but she dodged. He came close in, trying to punch her next with his working hand. She pushed one foot against his thigh and used it to push her hips and torso up, her other foot kicking upwards and heel digging it into his jaw. He bit the tip of his tongue off and Haru quickly got herself upright into a better position. While he was grunting in pain, Haru drove her fist into his liver, twisting her body by the hips for added momentum and force. He toppled over in an instant.

She ran from him and to Sato, who was able to grab a man's pole weapon and incapacitate him with it. Iori was fighting two guys off well, but they kept themselves on either side of him, his attention diverted. The goons' friends were trying to corner him. They ran to help him but stopped at a guttural scream. They both turned to see Yoshida down, the cry was from the kid when he saw the blood spraying from his shoulder. The other man had pulled a knife on Yoshida and was aiming for the old man next. 

They could hear farther off screams from people probably near the market. 

“Haru! You go help Yoshida, I’ll help Ken!” Sato yelled, running to Iori.

“Right!-”

“Leave me and get an ambulance here!” Iori yelled, holding his ground against the barrage of swinging fists and legs, grabbing a guy's rusted, metal pole and slicing through the air, hitting the multiple knees of his assailants. Sato grimaced but nodded after a quick consideration, dashing past all of the fighting and towards the market, her scarf long forgotten in the sludging mud, cold and regretful.

Haru ran to Yoshida, picking up his bat and striking upwards at the man with the knife. He landed off to the side. The nunchaku man still had his sights on the crying boy and scared elder. He raised a fist and spun the nunchuck at the man. Haru quickly intercepted by wrapping the bat around his neck, trying to drag him away. The nunchuck still made contact with the old man but in a much less vulnerable spot, he cradled his arm and the kid tried to lift him up, away from the drunkards. 

She looked to the kid and elderly man leaning on him for support. Clutching the bat to him harder. The little boy had shining eyes, wet with tears, and a bloody nose and mouth. Through his whimpering mouth Haru saw one of his front teeth chipped off. Her nose scrunched up in disgust. She made eye contact with the boy, the drunk man thrashing around under her grip.

She yelled out, telling them to run. Pulling the old man up fully, the little boy nodded and let out a shaky “ Thank you! ” and ran off with the old man.

Haru fell with the man and tried to contain his leg or arm in a lock, but he grabbed her and threw her off. Haru made sure to get up quickly and reached for the bat. She turned and swiftly aimed it, only just blocking the metal nunchucks from hitting her head, though it faintly hit her knuckle, a crunch was felt inside her hand and a numbing pain soon accompanied.

“Khg!” She gritted her teeth and pulled the bat away. He booted her and Haru landed hard against the curb. Like the previous man, he raised his leg to stomp her. Though unlike last time, she was too disoriented to respond. Her heart dropped, the curved reflection of his shoe in her iris.

Shit…

The drunken man was pulled away and his shoe went away with him. Haru took a second to breathe. She looked up and it felt like she met her saviour. 

“Kujo!”

She looked up at him, relief like a cold rush of water pouring down through her body.

But she looked at him. He didn’t have a scratch on him, yet he looked hot and sweaty, his teeth clenched and his breathing heavy. He was heaving and shaking while holding up the man. She tried to sit up, wanting to get close to him. Jotaro was concentrating on something as he held the man up, said guy trying to swing at him blindly, his nunchucks discarded on the floor.

“Kujo-Kun…” Finally, he let out a gasping breath but felt static in his head. He looked at you, then out to where he saw the other two fighting, then to Yoshida who was cradling his shoulder with his back turned. Haru swears to the gods that something in his eyes changed. Dark, confused, and manic. 

He closed his eyes tight, his teeth clenched again. His chest paced up and down fast.

He threw the man to the ground and something shot out from his back, pulling him onto the drunk. It punched his face with no pause or second thought. The squishing crunch of blood, bone and cartilage was ear grating. The guy had no chance to scream and was already unconscious, dirty body limp and impaled with the scent of alcohol.

Jotaro looked taken aback and uneased. The arms picked the guy up and aimed him at his teammates, accidentally throwing the body with too much force. Haru sat there, eyes locked and wide, body fixed to the floor, the cool rush of relief left her shivering cold.

What was that?!

( # O # )

When he hit the cronies hunting Iori, the teen turned around and smiled brightly, filled with hope.

“Jojo!” He breathed out in relief.

Jotaro apprehensively approached the men and grabbed one, punching him into the wet ground and stamping on his balls, blood pulling the fabric of his pants to the floor. Yoshida grimaced from his place on the floor. The guy behind him tried to get a dirty hit on Jotaro, but something pulled him to Jotaro’s hand instead. Iori thought he was blindsided to his speed so much that he didn’t see Jotaro reaching for the boy. The teen grabbed the thug’s head and forced it to the floor, curb stomping the dude, his teeth embedded into the pavement. Iori he wasn't smiling anymore. He didn’t move.

He looked at Jotaro, unease and creeping fear mixing with the flowing blood in his body. He locked onto his friend.This wasn’t just Jotaro’s normal fights he would dominate with ease, he saw- he knew the difference. Was this even Jojo? His wide eyes saw Jotaros, unnerving and uncanny; they felt shallow and overtaken. Iori wished he could say he looked angry that the gang of drunkards were hurting his ‘friends’ but it wasn’t that. Yet, he didn’t know just what it was. All Iori knew was that he felt completely overtaken.

When Jotaro stood up fully, he tried to move closer, despite his instincts insisting the opposite: that he turn tail and run. He saw Jotaro uncoordinated and confused, breathing fast and irregular. He gulped and set aside the shaking terror he felt numbed under his need to help.

“Joj- Jotaro, are you okay?” He stepped closer

He saw Yoshida behind Jotaro rise up as well, leaning against a tree and looking away from them. The rest of the goonies had scattered and fled, all that remained were the classmates and the unconscious. Iori hoped Sato had found someone.

:I

Jotaro on the other hand…

He felt weird, compelled and driven to do… Something. It was primal and instinctual. He didn’t understand it. His fists shook, and Jotaro felt something deep inside him was unsatisfied. His heart raced when he realised what the spirit inside him felt: unbridled, relentless, and incurable rage. His possession was getting dangerous and he had left it unchecked for too long. He only noticed now that Iori had been approaching him this whole time, just a few inches from him. He paled. 

“Get the fuck away!”

“Huh?” Iori’s eyes widened.

“Move!”

Something hit Iori, plunging deep into the boy's chest cavity, and ripping the soul from his body. The kid went down heavily winded and choking. His bones felt loose, misplaced, and throbbing. He heaved shallow and fast. 

Jotaro was sweating. No, no, no!

He tried to move back but was pulled toward Iori by the big, purple arms that reached from behind him. It ploughed a fist into Iori, the boy lunging back from the force. He fell into one of the unconscious bodies.

“Ahagh!” 

“Iori! Jojo?! You’re here!” Yoshida shouted, not seeing what happened just prior. Jotaro turned and saw Yoshida running towards him and Iori. His heartbeat spiked and the spirit reacted according to it. He could just feel it had. He yelled:

“Stay back!” But the spirit stretched out to Yoshida and picked him up. Yoshida shrieked in surprise, a suffocating grip clenched around his arms left imprints in his biceps. He barked out in pain. 

Jotaro felt arms wrap around his own, trying to pull him away. It was Haru. Freaked out and scared. She tried to get him away upon seeing Jotaro struggle with its force, being pulled in like an enchanting spell. He felt her grip shaky and tight.

“J-Kujo! What’s going on?!” He felt himself go cold. They couldn’t see it, right? All of what they were facing was invisible to them. They couldn’t see… anything. All they’ll remember was that Kujo Jotaro had come in and beat up both parties. He thought he saw it in her eyes, the notion that he was crazy. Maybe he was. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to get anyone involved, turning a small mess into a shithole of problematic circumstances. It wasn’t the law that scared him, it definitely wasn't. He actually didn’t know what it was. 

But when he saw that terrified look in his peers' eyes. Grey and frozen stiff; light hazel and blindsided; and dark brown, fearful and shaking; he thought he had the answer. He looked into Haru’s eyes: dark, encapsulating, and scared shitless. 

When Jotaro thought about the perception those four would have, the green glint in his eye clouded a bit.  

(  Q д Q ) !

“.u..jo!... Jotaro!” He blinked, his gaze cleaning up. It was Haru shouting at him, still trying to pull despite her obvious lack in strength when compared to Jotaro. She looked at him from behind, lip trembling.

“Wha- What the hell is that thing?!” His consciousness came back in one full swoop. She…

She saw it!

He couldn’t register what was happening before Yoshida’s body was flung into the windscreen of a parked car. Before blacking out, he heard the panicked yells from Haru and Jotaro. 

Jotaro willed himself not to move toward Yoshida. He tried to move away from Haru but the arms were faster.

She yelped when she saw a purple, bioluminescent arm. Jotaro pushed her away but its big hand wrapped around her ankle. It flung her through the air and crushed her into the musty pavement, the concrete cratering and breaking beneath her. She felt a buildup of blood in her throat and nasal area. The wind was torn from her lungs and she forced a weak, painful cough from her chest.

“Yamagishi!”

It pulled Jotaro in and forced its hands around Haru’s neck, not giving her the minute to regain her breathing. It was going agonisingly slow in its effort to crush her windpipe. She closed her eyes and bared her teeth, kicking at the arms. The blood in her mouth and nose filled and she choked, all airways of hers blocked. Her lack of breathing made her thrash and claw hysterically. She was choking, the fists not giving her the room to cough or hack. Tears pooled at the edges of her tightly closed eyes .

Jotaro grabbed at the arms, digging his feet in the ground and trying to pull it away. 

“Fuck!- Let go!” he resorted gripping at the fingers in a desperate attempt to pry them off and give you some more breathing room

“Kugh-Jo…!” Haru tried to say, she was pale and turning purple. Jotaro's heart was pounding the fastest it ever had, his racing pulse fueled the spirits' misdirected anger. 

“Shit-Fucking stop!” It was relentless and didn’t listen to Jotaro.

Haru felt a pressure build up at the top of her spine, her neck arched from the spirit. She felt it creaking. It would break any second. She knew that in the back of her static filled mind. She opened her eyes and looked directly at his green-blue irises, panic and sheen dulled with the lack of oxygen.

She didn’t know what was happening. She felt a tingle go down her spine and expected it to be a sign of death. She gritted her teeth shut. She didn’t want to die like this.

Not when…

She heard Jotaro’s distant shouts. Not when she hadn’t gotten her peace yet, she wasn’t finished here. Something stopped inside her, her body started to burn from within, a weird sensation. Flaming, yet cold, and hysterical in her muscles. Then she heard it. Something inside her brain and body.

Your peace…

She saw a faint glow from beneath her.

I will obtain your peace!

( @ ^ @ )

He saw it.

A large, snarled mouth gripped on the spirits arms like a vice, its whiskers flowing with no pull from gravity. Red and yellow spiraled eyes flickered around and zoned in on Jotaro. He felt a sinking pinch in his forearm and grunted when he saw blood spurting from it. The spirit inside Jotaro let go of Haru. That thing flung the spirit’s arm away, Jotaro flying with it. Haru coughed with short, shallow gasps and rolled to her side. He crashed into another car, the sirens drowned out when he made eye contact with the monster. Its snake-like body coiled towards him, blue mane swimming around the silver-blue scales on the body. Its face cold and angry, like a *yokai. It lacked legs but had huffs of lighter hair where the two front should be, though he didn’t see the back or the tail.

It was an ancient dragon. 

From behind, it was what he saw from before, it was coming out from the gakuran, an unknown amount of its body still inside. That blue mane! Haru was on her side, trying to breathe. The shining golden glow outlined the symbol on the back of her jacket.

 “ You… ” The voice echoed inside deep in Jotaro’s core, even and dark. It faced him head on, barely a meter from his face.

“ Have ruined our peace. ” It lowered its mouth, frosted breath fogging around the boy, he thought he could hear whispers in the fog. The inside of the dragon's mouth cascaded down continuously and Jotaro felt something, a fear he had never felt before. His heart slowed. The dragon opened its mouth larger, pointed teeth encapsulating the Jojo. He felt it instinctively and knew.

This unparalleled, paralysing doom…

“ Die. ”

It was certain death.

Chapter Text

The doorbell rang and Holly went off to answer it, hurrying down the corridor. Jotaro wasn’t too far away, curious as to who it would be during christmas eve, if it was business men, he’d scare them off. He tailed behind his mother like a duckling and watched her open the door. Upon seeing who it was, he wished it was a businessman or two. Even three as long as it wasn’t them.

“Hello, Holly-San! Happy Merry Christmas!” Sato said, holding up non-alcoholic wine and a wrapped melon, she was dressed as a cute reindeer with antlers, a dark brown fluffy capelet atop a thick, cream buttoned minidress, also rimmed with fluff ( everything was rimmed with fluff ). Sato had her prettiest brown boots to pair. Behind her were two other reindeers. Iori: who was in a short, thick brown coat with black pants and gloves, a red plaid scarf loosely around his neck with red button nose painted on his face, and Yoshida: in a lighter brown and white tracksuit jacket with a white Lucky Land t-shirt underneath and dark grey pants. The boys also wore antlers; Iori carrying a sack filled with gifts and Yoshida holding a cake.

Haru was santa: she wore black stockings with a thick, long-sleeved, dark red mini dress, slightly longer than Sato’s, with white side accents and a brown belt, the collar, hem and cuffs of her dress were white and fluffy. She had on thin black gloves and a red headband with a mini santa hat since her hair got in the way of her regular santa hat. 

“Merry Christmas, ma’am!” The boys said, smiling cheerfully at Jotaro’s mother.

“Merry Christmas, Holly-San, we brought some sweets,” Haru said, grinning. She held out a box filled with gingerbread out to Holly, who happily accepted. She turned to her son who was hidden in the corner. He flinched at being caught.

“Jotaro, honey, your friends have come over for Christmas!” Holly’s pale red dress twirled under her frilly pastel green apron, green slippers and green hat to match. It seemed she was one of Santa’s elves. Yoshida moved to the side, seeing Jotaro past the entrance. He clicked his tongue.

“Make them leave."

“Jotaro!” Haru called out. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Jojo-Kun!” Sato exclaimed, beaming at the boy.

“Oh, hey Jojo! Look, look! We brought gifts and stuff!” Yoshida said, holding the cake up. He beamed at Holly, pointing to the sack Iori was holding. “There’s plenty in here for you too, ma’am.” Holly held her face in one hand, swooning, her green hat swaying with her. 

“Kyaa, gifts for me? You’re too kind!” 

“Don’t fall for it, stupid woman.”

“I never would, dear!”

Jotaro gritted his teeth and stared at Yoshida who fluttered his eyes innocently as Jotaro approached. “What are you talking about, Jojo? We have presents to unwrap and food to eat, can we come inside?”

“Piss off."

“What’s up, Jojo,” Iori greeted casually, his spare hand thrown up in a happy wave.

“You too, get lost.”

“Please, come in. Papa will be so excited to meet you guys!” She said, leaving to place the cookies in the kitchen.

“Papa?” Iori said, confused. 

Just then, an old man turned the hall corner, he was tall with grey hair and still muscular. Time had nothing on this man. Iori gaped. The old man tilted his head and walked to the door, staring down at the kids. This guy was an Englishman with greenish-blue eyes and a well-kept beard. He was wearing a green holiday sweater, red button up underneath, and grey pants. His stare was cold, severely contrasting the Santa hat he was wearing. They sweatdropped, Holly returning to sweeten the mood once more. She wrapped an arm around the old man’s.

“Papa! These are Jotaro’s friends, they’ll be joining us tonight.” Jotaro clicked his tongue.

“Are you kidding, woman?”

All four stood a bit straighter, bowing to the man. “Excuse us!”

“This is Jotaro’s grandpa, he’s with us for the holidays. Come on, Papa, say hello.”

The grandpa leaned closer making eye contact with Sato, who was unfazed, giving a lazy grin to the man. He moved back and barked out a laugh, slapping his grandson on the back. The four kids just stood there, confused. He giggled, his shoulders shaking and gloved hand over his mouth.

“And here I thought it was physically impossible for anyone to stand you, Jotaro!” He looked at Iori, who was trying hard not to laugh in the man’s face. “Heh- What did he pay you or something?” Jotaro pushed him away, listening to Iori howling hard at the teasing.

“Haha! Oh god- no, no. We’re his classmates. I’m Iori Ken! This is Yamagishi Haru, Sato Mayumi, and Yoshida Takuya!” Iori said, circling a gloved finger to the four of them, who all waved. He gave a thumbs up to the old man and winked. “We are also his best friends!” 

“Don’t lie to the old man.” Jotaro grumbled.

Sato then pulled her sleeve to show off her bracelet.

“Look, look. We have the friendship bracelets to prove it.” The grandad grabbed Jotaro’s arm and pulled up his sleeve, cackling when the bracelet revealed itself. Jotaro pulled away and stuffed his hands into his pockets, walking away. 

The old man cleared his throat and introduced himself.

“I’m Joseph Joestar, Jotaro’s grandfather. Nice to meet you guys.” The four tilted their heads.

“Jo…seph Joestar?” Haru said. Sato furrowed her brows.

“Another Jojo?” She asked. Joseph chuckled, waving his hand.

“It was my nickname when I was younger, yes. But it seems you guys have also given that name to Jotaro, so you’ll have to find something else to call me.”

Holly ushered them all in, Sato and Yoshida following her to the kitchen to drop off the wine, melon, and cake. Iori and Haru walked with Jotaro and Joseph to the living area, decorated festively with expensive ornaments. Jotaro sat himself down and the three followed suit, sitting near the teen. Iori grabbed out some presents and handed a few out to Jotaro, who took them and placed them on the ground, not bothering to open them. 

“Here’s some for you, Jojo.” he turned to the grandpa that was with them, conversing with Haru and happy she understood english. Iori dug around and found a gift, suitable for extra people that might be at the estate during their stay. He slid the gift over to Joseph who raised an eyebrow.

Iori gave a smug smile. “We always come prepared with extras, Mr.Jojo,” he said. Haru made a face at the weird name but Joseph didn’t seem to mind, giving thanks to the boy before ripping the wrapping of the gift off. He was impressed it was similar to his interests: A TPS-L2 walkman from Sony, his current walkman was wearing down and he hadn’t purchased a replacement yet. He turned to Iori, a bit stunned.

“I’m surprised, Ken, was it? I was actually looking to buy a new walkman. This is a good gift considering it’s coming from one of Santa’s reindeer.” he chuckled. Iori pointed his red-painted nose up, content and smug.

“You should expect the best gifts from Iori Ken! I have the nose for this. I’m the ultimate Santa!” Jotaro pulled his green hat down.

“Then why is she Santa?” he asked, pointing at Haru who scratched her neck awkwardly. Iori clicked his tongue and grimaced, pouting at the ground. You can rely on Jotaro to bring everyone back to shitty reality. He scrunched his fist tightly, holding it up to his chest.

“She’s the only one with the pocket for it!” He grumbled. “Santa’s wealth!” Iori yelled. Yoshida and Sato walked in, the latter giggling behind her hand. Yoshida smiled embarrassingly.

“Yama-Chan bought most of the gifts, Joestar-San,” Yoshida started, sitting down at the low table. “We chipped in and helped bake, but the upfront costs were handled by her.” He looked at Haru, pink and bashful, and clasped his hands together.

“I’m sorry, Yama-Chan, I will pay you back.” 

“Please don’t.”

Iori bowed, crashing his forehead to the ground, his antlers bouncing around and pompadour smushed into the tatami floor. Sato joined in for fun. “Forgive us, Yamagishi!”

“What he said, Haru-Chan!”

Haru tried to pull them up (Sato coming up with ease but Iori solid like a rock), embarrassed at how they were acting. She waved her hand and grimaced.

“No- come on, guys. It didn’t cost that much. Please don’t pay me back,” she said looking over at Joseph, who was staring at her inquisitively, her ears tipped red. “It was nothing- Iori-Kun, get up already!”

“Your name was Haru, right?” Joseph asked, hand cupping his chin. Haru sat back on her legs, nodding at the man. He pointed to the walkman and then to the sack filled with items, simple curiosity getting the better of him. “You paid for all of this?” The walkman alone was over $200.

Haru nodded. “Uh yes, I did, Joestar-San,” she sweatdropped at his incredulous look and gave a closed eye smile. “Believe me, it didn’t cost that much. I have the money to spare.”

“You’re rich?”

“I guess-”

“She’s filthy rich, Grandpa Jojo,” Sato said, sitting at her side. “Massive house and all that too. She comes from old money” Joseph’s hummed, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Haru felt her face, hands warming to the high temperatures.

“Drop it already…”

Joseph waved his hand, not meaning to humiliate the girl (not that he knew why she was so embarrassed) when Holly came in, perfect timing as always, and placed a tray of hot drinks on the table. The children all thanked her and took happy gulps of the hot chocolate. Iori tapped the space beside him, offering her a seat, but Holly refused, mentioning that she would first set up some food. Haru got up and trailed behind Holly, wanting to be helpful to the woman. 

Jotaro stared at Haru from where he sat, gazing at the girl in contemplation. He stood up and walked to his room, his grandpa asking where he was going.

“None of your business, old man.” Joseph grumbled and turned to the others.

“Nevermind him, he’s terrible with guests,” he leaned closer with a devious smirk. “Leave to Joseph Joestar to bring the tricks to the table. Let me show you sleight of hand!”

Jotaro left the room, hearing Sato and Yoshida scream something about a missing hand, he clicked his tongue. Leave it to the old man to rile everyone up. He slid open his bedroom door and went past it to his study. In there, he pulled open a drawer, revealing a few items that he gathered into his pockets. He questioned what he was doing, knowing he’d get teased. But fuck it, who cares?

He stepped out and closed the door, heading for the kitchen.

＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

Haru chatted with Holly, helping around with pulling the cake out of the box and setting it on a decorative plate, coupled with a few knives and forks. Holly pulled out the plates and opened the box of gingerbread, delighted at its presentation. She pulled her hands together, please at the change of events.

“I can’t thank you enough for the desserts, dear. They look amazing!” She said, Haru beamed at the woman, content with the woman’s satisfaction.

“Thank you, Holly-San,” Haru said. “We all made these at my house earlier today. I’ll admit, we wanted to surprise you and Jotaro-Kun with these, so I’m really glad you like them.” Haru didn’t want to admit it, but she was a really big fan of Christmas. The Santa outfit didn’t help her excitement either. She was glad Jotaro didn’t see her earlier, fretting over wrapping paper, ribbons, and icing. She had been looking forward to this, but she wouldn’t say that to his face unless she died the next second.

Holly grabbed Haru’s hand and raised to her chest, her girly cheer emanating off her like the soft oriental perfume she wore: vanilla, amber and jasmine in smell, with citrus undertones.

“My Jotaro is so lucky to have you all as his friends.” She stared at Haru, eyes crinkled with joy. “I think he really is grateful to all of you.”

“I’m happy too, I’m glad Jotaro’s our friend. Just don’t tell him that!”

“Of course, dear,” she giggled. “I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but he seems so happy nowadays, and it can only be thanks to you. I just know it, he loves your company!” Holly smiled, pulling back and giving Haru a cheerful peace sign.

“On our mother-son bond, it’s true!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.”

The girls both jumped at Jotaro’s voice, one more embarrassed than the other.

“Oh! Jotaro, honey, why aren’t you with the others?”

“Jotaro!” Haru reeled back. “H-how much did you hear?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled at the white puff on his hat. “Does it matter?” He walked into the kitchen and grabbed Haru's fluffy collar, pulling her away from his mother. “I’m borrowing her for a bit,” he said, dragging Haru down the corridor.

“Have fun!”

This seems eerily familiar, Haru thought, letting Jotaro drag her out to the courtyard.

He set Haru down on the floor, leaning on the wooden pillar next to her. He pulled out a cigarette and flickered his lighter. He inhaled deeply and looked at the sky, feeling calmer than he did before. He looked down at Haru, who had settled on the covered *engawa, legs dangling over the edge.

“I got you something,” Jotaro said, digging in his pockets. Haru looked up at him and he returned the stare, his bright, clear eyes reflecting off her dark ones.

He pulled out a plain velvet box and gave it to Haru. She went a bit pink and opened it, revealing a twine necklace with the golden design of an *endless knot, symbolised in buddhist teachings. Haru just stared at it, eyes going over each loop crafted by the jeweller. 

Jotaro clicked his tongue and bit down on his cigarette. “Are you gonna put it on already?” He grumbled, but leaned down anyway. He moved, grabbing the necklace out of the box and manoeuvred his hands to connect it at the back of Haru’s neck as she sat still, faintly flustered at the scent of tobacco mixed with his *cologne: minty and spicy with hints of sandalwood and cedar, balanced with a musky base.

“Here,” he brushed his hands off and sat next to Haru, blowing out a puff of smoke away from her direction. They sat in silence for a minute before he spoke up.

“What do you think?” He asked, pulling up one of his legs to lean his elbow on. Haru toyed with the symbol, her chest light and bubbly.

“I really like it,” she whispered, not facing him. She looked at the moon. “Thank you. Um… I’m really happy.” He hummed in satisfaction and leaned back, looking at Haru with a relaxed stare. Her lashes were thickened with mascara and glossy lips were coloured a warming pink. He kept his eyes on the beauty mark on her chin, lost in thought as he puffed at his smoke once more. He watched her remember something, digging into own pocket. He tilted his head the slightest at the notion.

She faced him and handed him her gift; a similar velvet box, only slightly bigger and wrapped with a thin blue ribbon.

“Here’s yours,” she said, waiting for him to open it. He didn’t want to open anything tonight, but complied with her wishes, unwrapping the ribbon and opening the box.

Inside was a golden badge with the symbol of the *golden fish: an auspicious sign. It was simple, yet intricate, with two standing fish with gentle flowing fins, all on shiny golden backing. It gleamed immensely under the night sky, new to the outer cold.

“What about it, Jotaro? I noticed you wore badges and thought it kinda suited you,” she raised her pointer finger and thumb to her chin. “I also noticed that lately, you'd be paying more attention in science and biology class, specifically when aquatic life was involved. So on a physical level, I thought it paired nicely with how you were.”

It seems she thought of the best gift to give on a deeper level, and he appreciated it. She had an eye for detail and was probably waiting all of December to give this. He gave a phantom smirk at the thought and put it back in the box, placing it in his pocket.

“You’re way too meticulous.” he huffed, playing with the puff of his green hat again. “Thanks.”

She crossed her legs, leaning her chin on her open palm and staring at the boy with heavy-lidded eyes.

“That’s it? I knew you were handicapped when it came to social interaction, but oh my god! This is painful!” They teens both shivered, turning around to find the older Joestar with his arms crossed and foot tapping the floor impatiently; he was holding a small bundle of forgotten mistletoe, his Santa hat lopsided off his face. He closed his eyes and grumbled.

“Where’s the pizazz? Jotaro, if I were in this situation, I wouldn’t need mistletoe to get the hint.” 

“You think this is a show? Fuck off, old man!” Jotaro said, getting up. Haru sat there, stunned. She really hoped he wasn’t standing there the whole type, not too unlike his grandson. Joseph didn’t seem to care, scratching at his beard.

“I just came around to say Holly’s done with the food and is serving it now,” he looked at Haru and pointed a severed nub of a hand at her, something she didn’t question. “You guys came at the right time, she’s also serving some hot stuff, so finish up quickly and come to the dining room.”

He gave Jotaro the mistletoe and patted his back before walking off steps becoming softer as he left. Haru and Jotaro just stood there, unsure of their next step. Jotaro blinked out of his stupor and gripped the branch in his hand, irked and irritated at his grandfather for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. His lips quirked up in a small snarl.

“Don’t listen to him,” he said, chucking the branch to Haru, who gave him a side-eyed glance. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, refusing to look at Haru. “He’s being an idiot.”

Haru giggled, still flushed in the face. “Come on, Grinch, don’t let him ruin the fun. Here,” she said, a weird rush of confidence overcoming her. She waved the branch in front of Jotaro, a low-lidded gaze directed at him. He opened his eyes and stared down at her, not believing what he was seeing. He huffed incredulously.

“Want something to make you feel better?”

He raised a brow and guided his hand to her hand holding the mistletoe. “What’s with the Santa act?” he asked. Haru held a hand to her mouth, hiding her smile.

“Don’t you want a gift?”

“There’s enough inside.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

He let out the start of a laugh, moving his hand to Haru’s waist, subtly smirking. “Go on then.” Haru grinned and moved closer to Jotaro.

She had to admit, she loved being Santa.

Chapter Text

Jotaro’s spirit readied its arms in front of him. They were still, not tense like how Jotaro was, but uncaring of the predator in front of them. The dragon's mouth was wide, throat endless. Cold fog seeped out of it. He felt something drowning his senses and filling him with dread.
Would he really die right here in this dingy parking lot?

“Die.”

When the spirit snapped and clamped its mouth shut. Purple arms reached out and kept the jaws pried open, though it struggled to do so. The teeth dug into its palms and Jotaro felt blood spurt from them, though he didn’t care.
The dragon let go and shook off the purple arms, moving back just the littlest bit. Shiny scales made a shuddering, clacking noise. They moved in sync like grass and shone like the moon before it. The spirit readied its torso and shot out a decent amount of scales, sharp and thin at the edges. Two dug into the spirits arms, pinning them against the car. Others scattered around Jotaro and one dug into his shoulder; a warning. Be still, the scales would have said. They were cold, numbed the surrounding areas, and weird shapes could be seen reflecting off their surface. The dragon readied itself again, mouth open slightly, gathering more of its length to leap forward.
Jotaro clenched his teeth and balled his fists, forehead sheened with sweat and breath held within. The monster was going to eat him. He leaned further into the car bumper and refused to look at the serpent, opting to give the concrete a hard, panic-stricken stare.
It sprung. He closed his eyes tight.

…

It had been a few seconds and Jotaro was still alive. He steeled his nerves and looked up again. The monster was paused and frozen. Slowly, its mouth closed, teeth barely a centimetre from jotaro’s nose. He turned his face away from the teeth and his held breath gasped out as he regained his oxygen. The dragon moved its spiraling eyes away from Jotaro, turning its head around to view a disturbance in his execution. Something clung to its body.

Haru clung her arms around the never-ending torso that hailed from her gakuran, forcing her weight on it in a feeble attempt to hold the serpent down. She realised she got the spirits attention and gripped harder, roughened breathing and slow heartbeat.

“Ghhk!” She choked on her words, throat swelled and full of blood, she coughed. “Get… the fuck away…! From…that bastard…!” The dragon coiled its body behind her, its head rushing to return to her upon hearing her rugged voice and struggling, dry respires. Jotaro let out a panicked grunt when the dragon left his side and to his classmate and he tried to grab at one of the dragon's shimmery scales, a puny effort to stop his actions.
Its face floated above Haru, body moving around her for protection, Jotaro’s horror decreased to apprehension, his mouth still faintly agape.
The spirit's focus turned to Haru and she felt calmer with it near her, despite the fact it would probably tear her apart. The adrenaline in her system fizzed out and her mind became jumbled. Despite the burning power she felt inside, her body couldn’t keep up, the throbbing of her hand came back. She looked at Jotaro, wanting to smirk but too tired to pull one off. Haru really was crazy, risking herself to save someone like him.

If he lives, he better be grateful.

Her grip became weak and shaky, thus leading her to succumb to her swelling injuries. Her eyes rolled back and the remnants of her consciousness quickly faded. The spirit flashed away with a spark the instant she let go. Her face hit the floor.
Jotaro just stayed in his spot, unmoving. He unclenched his fists and teeth, raising a hand to touch his chest. His heart was racing. Jotaro breathed; slow and steady. He let his head fall onto the bumper, limbs relaxing and back slumping into the shape of the car front.
His senses came back to him one by one. First: his vision, the trees and bush became less vague; his sense of touch, his pants damp and dirty from remaining on the floor; his perception of smell, wetness and musty dirt drifting through his nose.
Then last; his hearing. The wailing of cops cars and ambulances started to pierce through the air. With the promising sound of sirens, he let himself close his eyes, body completely slackened. He waited as the approaching tires screeched on the damp streets.

The moon dimmed.

( O /_\ O )

“Despite your injuries, you seem to be lucky in avoiding any lifelong damages to your body.” The doctor said, writing into her clipboard. “You can be released today but will have to come back in two weeks for a follow up on your hand.”

With permission, she observed Haru’s hand applying soft pressure to the joints; with no flinch from her, the doctor nodded to herself.

“I would highly recommend against any extensive physical therapy or strenuous actions for the next 2 weeks - at least - until your hand recovers. I’ll book an appointment to be scheduled after those two weeks are up.” She pulled away from looking at Haru’s hand and rested it gently on her lap. Haru looked down, focusing on the cold, tiled floor. A corner movement caught her eye; her dads dress shoes, dark and polished, changed to accompany his legs switching position. He stayed quiet and nodded along to the doctor’s advice, his dark red hair was disheveled and he was still in his work clothes, his black eyes focused on the clipboard from behind his glasses, thick eyebrows furrowed.

“Your neck on the other hand. It’s lucky you weren’t held any longer than that. Less than a minute more and there’d be risk of extensive harm to your neurons. Resulting in an increased chance of brain damage.”

“You are fine to be released, but remain cautious. If any symptoms persist such as headaches, fever, confusion, or a change in your motor skills, then please come back.” She handed a crisp piece of paper with printed details of your injuries and visit. “There are more symptoms listed here, but I think you’ll be alright.”

The doctor moved back and gave a finishing sigh. “I think that covers it all. I’ll write a prescription for some ibuprofen, and acetaminophen,” she said, grabbing a slip and writing a few words, along with her signature. She gave it to Haru, “Which you can pick up from the pharmacy.”

Haru read the slip, handing it to her father after. The doctor got up and brushed her hands together. “That should about cover it.” Haru’s father stumbled up, quickly bowing at 45 degrees. Haru followed suit but let him speak.

“Thank you very much! Your services were amazing!” The doctor laughed and waved them off.

     ^ ^
꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱

Haru peeked into a room, hearing two boys laughing while a girl whined at them. The door opened fully, gaining the kids' attention. Sato sat up fully, a pastel pink and white plaid scarf worn instead of her usual cream one. She had a long white button-up tucked into a warm light brown skirt that ended above her knee, her coat shrugged off on Yoshida’s bed. Iori also sat at the edge, legs crossed. He was wearing a dark blue tracksuit jacket to battle the cold with turquoise and white sections; paired with dark slacks. Yoshida hadn’t been released and kept the hospital uniform on, consisting of a pale blue shirt and matching pants. He was covered in bandages, from cuts that were left after shards of glass slashed and dug into his skin. Most had to be removed by the doctors.

“Oh Yamagishi!” Iori exclaimed

“Good morning Iori-Kun, Yoshida-Kun!” She greeted with a small bow of her head, smiling. She looked at Sato and waved. “Morning, Mayumi-Chan.”

Haru met them at the bedside and Sato quickly embraced her from where she was sitting, the same scent from last night wafted with each inhalation, thicker than last time because of the newer application of the perfume. Sato teared up and stuffed her face into Haru’s stomach, muffled whines vibrating on her. Haru sweatdropped. Sato pulled her face up and looked at Haru, grey slicked eyes shining through her eyelashes that gathered in sections thanks to their wetness. Haru noted she wasn’t wearing lipgloss and looked a tiny bit more disheveled than she usually was.

“Haru-Chan, oh my god!” Haru petted her head. “You’re already getting released? When I saw you last night, I thought you were dead!” She nuzzled her face continuously into Haru’s belly, relief in her veins and the floral, fruity smell of Haru’s baggy sweater in her nose. Hmm, this was nice. She kicked her feet happily from where her legs lay under her, her shoes kicked off in the corner.
“Ahhh, you’re alive, you’re alive!” Haru combed her fingers through Sato’s hair

“Better than ever.”

“Badass too.” Iori said, now standing beside Haru. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her in; his cologne was deep, smoky, and maple, soaking onto her loose fitting turtleneck sweater, cream in colour and tucked into her skirt. He rubbed her bicep and laughed.

“I saw you out there, bashing drunk ass!” Iori barked. Yoshida giggled along. “Pretty cool, Yamagishi. Sometimes, I forget you’re pretty experienced. Hah, must come in handy against that group of juniors that eye you up!” He tilted his head back, laughing wholeheartedly, referring to the few underclassmen that followed Jotaro to school and hadn’t remembered their manners. Haru grinned at Iori, wrapping a loose arm around his waist. He smiled with his teeth showing, happy and light. Haru chuckled behind her hand.

“Iori-Kun, those girls didn’t stand a chance the moment they tried to pick a fight.” She moved her hand away from her mouth, flexing her arm jokingly. “Papa made sure there was nothing against this fist!” Iori ruffled her hair softly, moving to sit in a chair.

“Right, right!”

Sato shuffled over and grabbed Haru, pulling her to sit on Yoshida’s bed with her

“Mmm, you're pretty good at fighting, Yama-Chan, swift with it too,” Yoshida said, scratching his arm that was wrapped in a bandage. He sighed wistfully and flexed his hand, clean and wrapped by the nurses. “I’m jealous. I should work on my techniques more, they’re kinda sloppy.”

Sato lay herself over Yoshida’s legs, looking up at the ceiling. “What’re you talking about, you were super cool as well, Yoshida-Kun. You smashed that guy in the face, I saw it! And the cops said he was all bloody!” She laughed. “Hahaha! Brutal!”

Yoshida scratched his cheek, a bit confused. “Thanks, Sato-Chan, I know I did a number on him. But,” he started. “I don’t remember him being very bloody. Bruised, sure, and I think I broke his shoulder. But I was so focused on him that his friend with the knife got the jump on me before I could bust his face up. I completely forgot about him.” This brought everyone’s attention back to last night. Haru had a deep crease on her brows, shadow over the top half of her face.

“Uh, that was Kujo-Kun,” Haru admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I knocked out the knife man and he helped (?) me beat up the guy with the nunchucks.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Iori said, crossing his legs. “Jojo. What was up with him that night? He was going crazy.” He thought back to his cloudy eyes, and slouched into his chair more.

“I saw him get arrested, what happened?” Sato asked, sitting up.

“Don’t know,” Iori said. “He told me to move when I came close to him, then I got hit by a car.” He gritted his teeth. “The junky thing knocked the life out of me, I got the bruise to prove it.” He lifted his shirt. Underneath his toned abdomen and lean muscles was a long bruise painted from his chest to mid area. It was red around the edges and purple in the middle, staining his tanned skin. Haru was confused at the thought of a car hitting him when it was already clear what did it, he must not have seen it properly.

“Are you sure a car caused that?” Sato asked, Haru nodding along.

“I didn’t see a car, but that whole night was pretty crazy,” he shrugged at Sato. “The Jobro was too far away to hit me - heh, n-not that he would do that, of course - and I was already loopy. Some of the assholes got some cheap hits in.” He looked down at the edge of the bed and frowned. He remembered those eyes, the whole scene had replayed in his mind since he woke up. He knows for a fact nothing hit him, but…

“It’s my best guess,” he mumbled, the atmosphere slowly thickening with anxiousness. “Otherwise, I don’t know what happened. Jojo, god- he had these crazy eyes, but he didn’t hit me.” he closed his eyes and scratched his head, hair unlike its usual styling, it curled around his face loosely. Haru didn’t yet butt in.
“I think he was scared? I don’t know. Man just looked so freaked out, it made me nervous.”

“It was crazy,” Yoshida said, everyone turned to him, Haru already having an inkling on where he was going with this. “I… was lifted into the air by something.” he grabbed his arm and showed the bruises shaped like fingers. “I thought I was blind, or insane, it made sense, actually,” he retold the story of being hit in the face by the nunchucks so hard, he felt disoriented the rest of the night. Only a faint red mark remained, though.

“It was invisible, I thought I took too many punches but then you said the same thing, so I’m certain.” He shrunk in on himself slightly moving to cross his legs under the blanket.

“Maybe it was a ghost? I don’t-”

“You didn’t see it?” Haru said, an intense stare aimed at Yoshida. She put her hands on the bed, near his thigh.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t see the arms lifting you up?” She frowned, leaning in closer to him. “Neither did you, Iori-Kun?” She furrowed her brows, nervous lips slightly parted. He shook his head, sitting up at the realisation of this tense confusion.

“You saw it?” He leaned in and Sato linked her arm with Haru’s as a sign of comfort and understanding patience. She nodded.

“There were these big purple arms that came out from-” she stopped, looking down. From Jotaro. “The ground. I saw them lift you up, Yoshida-Kun. And I saw it punch you, Iori-Kun.” He reeled back at this information. Haru knew she sounded crazy. God, she felt crazy.

“You saw that? Was it a cursed-spirit?” Iori exclaimed, unsure. Yoshida’s eyes sharpened after a thought and he leaned forward, examining Haru’s body.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Yoshida said. Iori focused on the thin bandages wrapped around her knuckles to her wrist. Sato tightened her grip when he said this, looking Haru up and down, but her long brown skirt covered most of her body. A silence took over the room and they ignored the chatter and creaks of medical equipment from outside. Haru nodded.

She slowly pulled down the collar of the loose turtle neck sweater, a bit red in the face, a dark purplish bruise was imprinted on her exposed neck, faintly swelled around the edges. The air was frozen cold.

“I-it came from the hands,” she said, her throat clamped up and she swallowed, it stung at the memory. She paused and thought back to Jotaro. He was likely a big reason as to what happened, willingly or not, but she would not throw him under the bus. Yet. She remembered his panicking face. And the dragon. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t seen the spirit since that night, same goes for the purple arms, but that can be chalked up to the absence of Jotaro. She felt a bit safer with him not around but was also anxious that wherever he was, one of the spirits followed.

“Jotaro saved me.”

“But then something else showed up,” she stared at the ceiling. “It was like a big ancient dragon. Or a monster. I don’t know why the hell it was there.”

Sato frowned. “A water god?”

“I don’t know…”

The group stilled. Gazes intense and palms clammy. They all felt the chill Haru felt last night in the room, the sterile tiles and walls were cooling by the second and the sun dipped behind dark clouds. Suddenly, the hospital didn’t feel so safe.

The tense air passed as the clouds did, returning to a dimmed version of before.

Iori gently reached out and turned her head to take a better look at the mark, he looked creeped out and tentative. Haru pulled her hand away from her sweater since he was holding it, laying it on her lap.

“I told the police it must've been one of the men we fought with.” She played with one of Sato’s hands, feeling bashful and not one bit remorseful for throwing them under the bus. “Otherwise, they’d think I was crazy.”

The group didn’t really know what to do with this information.

“Are you alright now, Yama-Chan?” Yoshida asked, reaching out a hand but unsure what to do with it. She grimaced, unsure with herself, and he put the hand on her shoulder. “We believe you, if you’re nervous about that, you wouldn’t lie.” Iori nodded, but Yoshida looked conflicted.

“But what do we do?” Yoshida murmured. Sato leaned into Haru.

“Should we tell the cops?”She asked. Iori shrugged, vexed that everyone in their clique was injured in some way (excluding Jotaro, whose condition he didn’t know), he looked at Yoshida and Haru. Some worse than others.

“I doubt they’d take us seriously. Though, maybe if they looked into it, they’d realise none of the guy's hands might’ve matched.” He looked closer at Haru’s neck and frowned at what he thought. “But to be honest…”

“That hand size,” he straightened Haru’s collar and pulled away, putting his hand over his face.
“Looks really close to Jotaro’s…”

They stopped talking. Sato concentrated on the ground, eyes hardened with a glare.

“We… Should try and find out what that was.”

;^;

The Yamagishi estate was lush and traditional, much like the layout of the Kujo estate, but tweaked with a few modern accents.The estate came from old money and was one of the smaller properties her father took over, leaving the larger properties to his siblings. Divided into sections of communal areas, sleeping quarters, and kitchen and dining. These sections also included bathrooms and laundry, guestrooms, study rooms, living areas, and the foyer. The bedrooms (and connected bathrooms), guestrooms, and study rooms were all located on the second floor.

Separated from the house in the backyard was a tea room and library to the left, and a rock rimmed pond and sand garden with bonsai to the right, tended to by hired gardeners. A *shishi-odoshi fountain at the water's edge. The front of the house had a stone path bordered with grass to the entrance, more westernised flora planted on display. Though, most of them looked the same; tanned from the autumn and nearing their rebirth due in spring.

Yamagishi Koda lounged in the more modern one of the lush living areas, waiting for his daughter to get home. She decided to stay and visit her friends for a while and said not to worry about her and to just head home. He sat up and bounced in his seat, awaiting her arrival. A few VHS movies were scattered around and he kept hot food low on the stove, ready to serve for lunch. He was ready! Today, he and his darling daughter would relax and heal while humouring themselves with television! He had been busy with several cases - one he didn’t want to think about - and had neglected his fatherly duties, thus resulting in his sweet child becoming injured by some subhuman lowlifes. He clicked his tongue and closed his eyes.

The door slid open and he perked up like a cat, similar in antics to his daughter.

“I’m home!” Haru yelled, slipping off her shoes at the entrance.

“Ha-Chan!” He stood up and paced down the hall to the foyer. “Welcome home!”

He hugged Haru and leaned into her. He nuzzled his chin on her head, content with this embrace. He pulled away and drew his fists to his chest, pumped with excitement. “I made us a late lunch!”

They moved to the set dining table and he guided Haru down, quickly moving to grab the hot dishes. With them placed, he grabbed a bowl packed full of rice and gave it to Haru, along with a few warming side dishes to aid in her healing process. They clasped their hands together and blessed the food, both eagerly digging with the same vigor.

Koda grabbed some more meat from the shared dish and piled some onto Haru’s rice bowl. “You need some more meat, Ha-Chan,” he said. “It’ll make sure you heal quickly.” Haru smiled, copying the gesture to her father.

“Right! Thank you,” she started, bashfully. “You’ve been working hard as well, so make sure you eat plenty.”

He thanked Haru and they continued to make small talk, talking about school and how the festival was before the accident. She showed off her bracelet that was taken care of by a nurse, the ring hidden in her pocket. He seemed content and way less tense than when he was at the hospital, relaxed in the comfort of their affluent abode. He puffed his chest.

“I thought we could relax together in the living area tonight! I’ve set everything up for a few movies!”

(*>ω<*)

Koda slept on the couch, the movie buzzing in the background. His shirt unbuttoned at the top and tie loosened, glasses tilted off his ears. Haru stared at him, then back to the television. She dumped her face into her palms and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. After some thinking, she stood up and turned the TV off. She walked off to grab a thick blanket, laying on top of her dad, folding his glasses and placing them on the coffee table. She turned to walk off to her room, stopping when her dad made a noise.

“Ha-Chan,” he said, Haru appearing at his side. He reached out from the covers and held her hand, he grinned tiredly. “Stay home from school tomorrow, I’ll let them know what happened.”

She gave him a hollow smile, rubbing his hand with her thumb. “I will. Goodnight, Papa.”

“Have a good sleep, Ha-Chan…” he dozed back off, hand falling limp. Haru left down the hall and out to the courtyard.

(；⌣̀_⌣́)

Haru sat herself down on the deck, legs crossed and elbows on her thighs. She sighed and examined the pond, a lively ecosystem within. The bonsai ruffled with the wind and the water creaked and bubbled. Haru let her legs dangle over the side and leaned back, looking up. The moon was bigger than usual and reflected in her dark eyes, bright, cold, and illuminating the hidden shimmer in her irises. She inhaled deeply, the air scented from the dew and grass. She comforted in the light, pretending it felt her confliction, and observed her garden.

To the side was the library, no doubt something would be in there. Haru got up and left for the books inside.

( ´-ω-` )

No amount of digging was fruitful and the library was in disarray, books scattered. Haru slouched on the table and sighed, irritated at the lack of information. Numerous books surrounded her, from river gods to evil spirits. Nothing hit on the mark for Haru and didn’t feel right; when she thought she found something, a piece of information always made her shake her head. Nothing was a perfect conclusion and the patience wore thin. Haru pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, headache faintly pulsating at the back of her head to her neck.

She should visit Jotaro tomorrow, since it was her day off. Maybe he’d have useful information, but she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t even want to see him, if she was perfectly honest. Haru’s chest felt hollow and shrunk when she thought about him, but she refused to believe she was scared. This was definitely more like anger, right? It was so like Jotaro to mess up her week like this, and ruin everything. Now, it was just on a supernatural level
She glared at the table. It was decided, she will go out tomorrow. She grinned, Jotaro was lucky the bars would separate them-

Haru paused at the sound of a creak that was heard outside. Her heart stilled and she stiffened up.

After a few agonising minutes, Haru slowly moved off her chair and walked to the door. She felt herself compelled to open the door, but gripped her arm tightly. Was this a horror movie? Haru grabbed a replaceable book, hard and thick, and readied it. She wondered what the fuck she was doing before sliding the door open slowly. Nothing. Against her better judgement, she slid it open fast and readied herself to sprint off. But there was nothing.

She stepped out and looked around cautiously. Everything played out as it usually did: rippling water, flowing bonsai, and rustling trees. Perfectly normal. Haru stepped away from the library and to the house, looking out at the pond. But something in her turned her head to the house. And she saw it.

The dragon.

It coiled around her house, its torso stemming from the hallway and up to the lower roof. It stared at Haru, unmoving and unnerving. Haru was in awe, dropping her book and stepping back. She shivered, that thing had come from her house!

It slithered down the roof, scales shining under the moonlight, and advanced to the girl slowly. Haru froze, her stare directed at the snake-like being. When it was close, she willed herself to shut her eyes tight, nose scrunching somewhat. She childishly hoped it would go away if she didn’t look at it.

When nothing happened, she pried one eye open, scared at what she’d see. The spirit was gone with the blowing wind. Looming presence disappearing with the sound of the shishi-odoshi clacking on the rocks. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the house, nothing was out of place.

“What…?” Nothing was out of the ordinary and Haru moved to the middle of the garden, clutching at her heart through her sweater, uneasy and anxious. Haru looked up; the stars above were dim, the courtyard now unilluminated and quiet. She shuddered at the sign and hurried inside.

The moon had turned its back, darker and smaller than before. It removed itself from the estate, the lack of the spirits' presence like heartbreak to the moon. With a final clack from the shishi-odoshi, the sky sunk into darkness.

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning when Haru found herself watching out over the courtyard from the edge of her garden. The wind passed through the thin fabric of her loungewear, a pale periwinkle satin dress, she tightened her cardigan wrap. The gardeners were off for the day, so it was quieter and less alive than the usual routine called for.

Narrowed eyes focused on every detail they could take in, though any attempts were futile, she tsked, crossing her arms in vexation. No matter how much she searched and thought, nothing around the house felt out of place or malicious. Haru smoothened her frown and headed inside, down the wooden planks of the *engawa and through the entrance, slipping out of her outdoor shoes and changing her mind to the topic of Jotaro. Now would seem a good time to get ready to visit him; no need to rush herself as it was still early. She stepped through the house and up to her bedroom, picking a simple outfit for the day, as she had already bathed the previous night.

-

Haru secured a pair of simple earrings to her ears, studs with a coral-pink pearl on each. She skipped a matching necklace and instead shifted her dress’s collar to hide her bruise just a bit. She buttoned her white shirtdress up and cinched it with a shiny, black leather belt, a rose gold buckle to complement the salmon pink in the pearls. Haru moved to grab a scarf for the wind and placed it loosely over her shoulders, not bothering to secure it properly yet. Something crossed her mind and she looked behind her, her gakuran hung up in display. She felt something uncomfortable bubbling in her chest. A feeling: desperate and alluring in nature, muted her senses when her eyes drifted to the article of clothing. One blink made the sensation run from her body. Haru frowned but brushed it off, not too bothered. She set off down the staircase, but paused at the first step. Her mind thought for a second, and she moved around the upstairs hallway, walking to her father’s room. 

Sliding the door open revealed he wasn’t there, his bed was made, clean and tidy. He might’ve gone into work today since he left early the day before yesterday and took time off when Haru was in the hospital. He would be making up for the lost time, but, if Haru was honest with herself, he had no need to work. He had enough money to live off and stay at home, much like his sister, Haru’s aunt. But the man insisted he work. Haru walked through the hallway and down the stairs. To Koda, it used to be a case of fulfilment, but not as much anymore. He stayed awake throughout the night, with papers scattered in his study, focused a few cases in particular: robberies with no found perpetrator, rape cases, and one that claimed to be of supernatural descent. 

Haru walked through the house and to the entrance, grabbing a clean pair of black mary janes and she slipped them over her translucent stockings. Haru stepped through the front door, sliding it closed and making her way down the pavement and past the gates.

Haru herself knew there was something he busied himself with, at home or at his station. This wasn’t just about work.

-

Holly was outside the police station, anticipating seeing her son's face. She had been called early in the morning on Wednesday about a brawl involving Jotaro and his friends the night before, the cop on the telephone mentioning he stayed for the night as they sorted over a few things. 

She suggested Holly come over on Thursday (today), as her son was detained and answering some questions, he would be unable to meet with her if she came out. All of yesterday she was fretting, tidying his bedroom on multiple occasions and pacing around the house, eager and anxious that she couldn’t visit Jotaro just yet. Holly was given a call minutes prior to her arrival, telling her Jotaro was free to be visited, so she rushed out of the house that same second. Holly jumped when her name was called from behind.

“Ku-Holly-San?”

She turned around and found one of her dear son's precious friends: Yamagishi Haru, walking up to her. She met her halfway, her hands pressed against her chest in surprise. Holly was dressed in a simple, knife pleated, green skirt paired with a yellow long sleeve blouse that had extra stitching to create the illusion of a sweetheart neckline. She donned an expensive set of pearls and purple bangles and earrings - maybe sugilite, purple jade, or possibly a simpler rock - shaped to fit the more modern style of the 80’s. Her eyes, cerulean green (if you were wondering), widened in relief. Someone else was here, she didn’t feel so alone. She leaned close to Haru, giving her a bright smile despite her mind's worries.

“Ah! You are Jotaro’s friend, Haru-San, right?” Haru gave her a funny look upon the mention of her first name (and the use of ‘friend’), but went back to normal and nodded at the woman, giving her a small smile.

“Yes, that’s correct. Are you here to see Kujo-Kun?” Haru asked. She was here on a mission to wring the answers out of Jotaro, but maybe now wouldn’t be a good time. Haru had the decency to wait until the mother wasn’t in the same room as them. Holly nodded, looking back to the building.

“Yes,” Holly lamented. She turned back to Haru. “You must be here for the same reason, right, Haru-San? Well, let’s go see him together, since we’re both here.” Haru hid her snarl and agreed with Holly, both heading inside. She didn’t know if she would get the chance to ask Jotaro about the evil spirit with his mother around, but she was already here, so Haru would just have to see how it played out.

-

“Let’s see…” one of the officers said, flipping a page in his clipboard. “Kujo Jotaro: aged seventeen, 195 centimeters tall. Of both Japanese and British lineage, that being a Japanese musician father and an American mother of British descent…” He glanced at Holly for confirmation, and at the mention of a foreigner. She held a handkerchief to her eyes, dabbing them softly. His taller partner leaned over his shoulder to look at what was written down about Jotaro, his tanned hand holding the clipboard.

“Yes, there is no mistaking it. Jotaro is my son.”

The taller officer smiled at the clipboard, humming in amusement. “Most of his friends call him Jojo. Haha, they must’ve taken the ‘Jo’ from Jotaro and the ‘Jo’ from Kujo and combined them together! Heh,” he chuckled, imagining the big boy answering to ‘Jojo’. “What a cute name!”

The stubbier officer grinned and nodded, moving his line of sight to Haru. She had given the exact pair of officers a statement about the fight yesterday, so he was aware of her relationship to the boy. 

“Yamagishi-San, I take it you also wish to see him.” Wish was a bit strong for Haru but she hummed in agreement anyway. He couldn't help but look at the marks on her neck, peeking through her loosely hanging scarf and her wrapped hand, the last time he saw it, it was swollen and red. He remembered talking to her friends. One of the boys had a large gash on his back and a purplish bruise on his chest. It was a good thing his ribcage stayed intact and didn't give him internal punctures. He took the injuries well and left the hospital that same night. Heck, the other boy was covered in glass and plastic, groaning in pain, which he had every reason to. The cop shuddered, the boy reminded him of a dog when attacked by a porcupine.

“I see. I pray for you and your friends to have a swift recovery.” 

“Thank you very much.” Haru bowed in gratitude. To her side Holly shook a bit as she braced herself for terrible news.

“There is something I need to know. Please tell me…” she started. “How many people did Jotaro kill that night?” She covered her ears almost as soon as she asked the question.

“Kyaaa! Wait! No, don’t say it, don’t say it! Don’t tell me!” Haru deadpanned, ignoring the stares and weird looks they both got. She stared past Holly and out the front window, pretending that never happened. The cops carried on, not too bothered with Holly. The taller man walked past his colleague and to the mother, bending down to her so she could hear him clearly over her spouts.

“He didn’t kill anybody,” officer Number Two said. Haru put her hand on Holly’s shoulder and she stopped squirming. He carried on. “He was just in a fight, a brawl that got out of hand. And one of the last ones to partake in it, which, I must say, surprises me.” 

His shorter partner, Number One, nodded along. “I do apologize, Kujo Holly-San, correct? You have been out of the loop on what happened, as our officers have been backed up with many cases. I am terribly sorry, it’s an error on our behalf.”

“But to recap, it was a large group of drunk men assaulting an elderly man and a minor, the youngest being seventeen and the oldest one we caught being twenty-nine. We’ve arrested eight of what we believe to be a group of eleven; two of which are here while the other six are in hospital. Five of them were armed: three with knives, one with nunchucks, and one with a metal pole of sorts,” he chuckled.

“Though you should know the one with the pole didn’t have his weapon for long. Our reports show the boy was surpassed by a teenage girl.” Number One said, looking at Haru.

“Sato-San, I’m sure her name was.” Haru hummed and remembered seeing the girl holding the pole, it was quite funny how quickly most of the guys were overpowered. “You kids all put up a really good fight. Too good, in fact. I am very impressed.” he chuckled. “Some of the men got away, but it is likely the ones in the cells will fess up soon enough.”

“If I recall, he crushed one man’s balls to a pulp- oh, pardon me, and many of them seemed to have broken bones, teeth included. Your son stomped on a man's head, resulting in his front teeth being pushed up into his gums and jaw shattered into three.” Officer Number One mulled on the listed injuries. Haru recoiled, grossed out, so he decided not to continue. 

Number Two looked at Holly ,expression a bit more serious. “Usually we’d treat that as a serious assault, but his friends vouched this was in both self defense and in defense of an old man and a young boy. And between you and me, he deserved it . The old man suffered from multiple fractures and the boy had four missing teeth, molars and canines. So we’ll let it slide just this once.” He wagged a finger at Holly, lighthearted but stern. “But please make sure your boy learns his lesson, we can’t be this lenient the next time he does this.”

“Yes! Of course!” Holly affirmed, resuming her happy stature. 

“But there is a problem here,” Number One said, handing his clipboard off to a female colleague. “That boy certainly is a strange one. Wild too.” Haru grumbled something unintelligible under her breath, akin to exasperated agreement.

-

Number Two held the door open for the other three, closing it behind him once he entered. Officer Number One led them all through a dingy stone hallway. Haru stuck close to Holly, just in case something happened. Going down the stairway, Number One told Holly her son was free to leave, Holly chirping out something of both surprise and joy.

“Really?” Haru said. “He’s free to go?” Number Two chuckled.

“We can’t keep him here forever,” Number Two said. “There’s been so many people in and out of these cells recently, we’re up against a wall at the amount of people arrested. I could’ve never imagined it: a waiting list for cells? ” He laughed.

“Must be that Christmas spirit, hahah!”

Holly mulled over what he said. “There’s been an increase in arrests?”

“Yes,” Number One said, his shoes echoing down the walls. “This time of year must bring out the worst in people, it’s crazy.” He glanced at Haru. “Hm. Yamagishi Koda-San’s been here a lot this month as well.”

Haru perked. “Papa’s working here?” She asked, knowing his station was a bit further away.

“Mmm, well, his team has had to come down here more often, so we’ve decided to partner stations for the time being.”

“Is your papa an officer, Haru-San?” Holly questioned, her hands folded politely in front of her. Haru nodded

“He’s a detective and Inspector General.”

“Ah, really, what an impressive rank.”

Number one looked at Holly, eyes slightly widened. “I must say, as a foreigner, your Japanese is very good. Can I ask how long you’ve lived in Japan?” 

“Twenty years.”

“”Ah, no wonder,” he chuckled. They four rounded the corner.

“Kujo is just up ahead,” said Number Two, tilting his cap to scratch his head. Holly broke from the group, sprinting down the hallway. All three of them gaped at the woman as she yelled out for her son, her white heeled flats ill-fitted for the grime on the stone flooring. Her mind filled with memories of Jotaro’s childhood, playing happily with both her and his friends. Her sweet son, he wouldn’t do terrible things. He was reasonable, and caring, Holly could see it and knew clearly. Haru reached out to her.

“Holly-San, hold on!-”

“Jotaro!”

-

From his cell, Jotaro heard his mother crying for him. His brows creased, he didn’t want her here in this shithole. He heard another voice and pair of shoes approaching his cell, but paid them no mind. He leaned into his hand, growing increasingly annoyed at his mothers calls, he hated hearing her cry like that.

“Jotaro!”

“Shut the fuck up! Your voice is grating, dumb bitch!” He yelled, sitting up to see the happy face of Holly and the stunned one of Haru (well ,that’s a surprise) with her jaw slack, small part in her lips. Having only seen him interact with Holly around a total of three times, she was new to the way he shouted so brazenly. She was stunned. Shocked. Dumbfounded- Actually, no, it wasn’t that surprising, she thought after a second. This is Kujo, she’s talking about. Haru closed her mouth, face turning plain.

“Alright!” Holly affirmed, hands pressed together delightfully. Haru didn't turn to her, instead giving her a side-eyed glance, not moving her head.

“Ughh, I shouldn’t be surprised at your mouth…” Haru said, one-sided sneer on her face, crossing her arms. “Your words always stunk like bad breath. Why would it smell any different to your mother?”

Holly looked at her with unease. Haru pulled her chin up slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down on him with a snobbish glint. 

“Get out, we need to talk.”

Jotaro glared at Haru and huffed. He rolled his eyes and leaned back, facing the wall and closing his eyes. Holly stood next to Haru, turning around to defend his persona to the approaching officers, who had caught up to her, grimacing at Jotaro’s nonchalance, not that it was unusual from what they’d seen during his stay. 

“He really is a sweet boy. He would hate to hurt a fly,” she explained, her clarification furtively aimed at Haru as well, which the girl seriously doubted. This lady seemed to be a bit more deluded than Haru first thought. “He wouldn’t do something so terrible.” At least, not without reason.

Haru frowned, looking over at his rugged doormat: Kujo Holly. What is with this woman? She’ll give Holly the benefit of the doubt and assume she was never involved and that none of his other fights ever came close to the seriousness of this one, if any of them even came to light. Number two’s lip pulled up in a snarl and he kicked at the cell’s bars, yelling for the boy to get up and out of the room and go home with Holly.

“Hurry up, Kujo!” He barked. “You’re a free man, the hell’s wrong with you? Get out already!”

Jotaro turned the slightest and gave the officers both an exasperated look, staring at them like they were stupid to even suggest he leave. He sat up, catching the flinch of the two men from the corner of his eye. He moved his black look to Haru, then to Holly.

“*Ofukuro, go home,” he said. “I’ll be here for a while. I’m possessed by an evil spirit, so I’m not leaving this cell.”

“Ofukuro?” Haru raised her brow. He certainly didn’t suit that type of endearment.

He stared at Haru and eyed up and down her body. She was mostly covered, injuries and face scrubbed clean of the dirt from when he last saw her. Her right hand was thinly wrapped in bandages, her ring and middle finger splinted together. Her neck was barely covered, exposed to show off a purple ring around her neck, Jotaro culpable for the injury. He turned his gaze away.

“It’s dangerous, I don’t know what it’ll do next, or who it’ll hurt next. Even with all I had, I could barely keep it in check during that fight, and I injured people. So that’s why I won’t leave. You take me out and who knows what’ll happen.”

Number one sweatdropped and rubbed the back off his neck, looking up at Holly.

“Geez… This is what we were talking about,” he looked to his colleague, number two and grimaced. He pointed at his head. “Pardon me for asking, but is your son all right? Up there, I mean.”

Haru glared at Jotaro. So the spirit was connected to him, that just leaves the other spirit. She frowned at the thought that it might be connected to her, as Haru was sure it had been inside her house, its long body neverending. She felt a cold flush that what was happening to Jotaro might happen to her. Did he cause this, did a spirit also latch onto her because of him?

“I’ve not seen many refuse to leave their cells, he is an odd case. This isn’t a hotel, we’ve got more people coming in already.”

Haru eyed Jotaro, watching him stretch his arms behind his head and leg crossed over the other, his chain splayed to the side. How could he be so casual? Something in the right corner caught her attention and she tried to step back. Three men ran to the bars, clinging and reaching their arms through, one grabbing Haru by the shoulder. He was recognised as one of the boys from the other night. He pulled her closer to him by her bad hand, begging for forgiveness. The others cried to the officers. Haru pulled back.

“Let go-” 

“Please forgive me,” he cried. “That boy’s possessed by evil, he’s not lying! I beg of you, please help us! I’ll never drink again! I’ll never hurt anyone! I’ll tell you everythinggg!”

“I’ll break your hand,” she said, her hand throbbing from being gripped. She grabbed his finger and bent it back anyway. He yelped, the snap both audible and felt, crack vibrating in her wrist. “Let go!”

“Back up, all three of you! That’s enough!” Number two worked fast and pried his hands off Haru, smashing his baton at the three of them. Number one gently guided Holly out of reach as well, reaching over to check Haru’s hand.

“He’s telling the truth,” one said. “Move us! Move us to another cell! I beg of you! I won’t commit a crime ever again!”

Jotaro pried open the can with the stab of a pen, the fizz and crack of tin disrupted the men's pleas. They all cowered together, huddled like penguins. He had beer on hand, unlikely that he hid it from the officers when they arrived. Unclipping the tab allowed the beer to pour smoothly. He pressed his lips to the can, maintaining eye contact with Haru throughout; his glare she returned tenfold. 

“What the hell, where’d you get that?!” Number one pressed. “You’re behind bars!”

Jotaro sighed. “I told you already. I’m possessed. The spirit brings these things to me. It used to be small rocks, and it only did small gestures. Now it’s bringing things of more value. And now, it’s becoming more and more dangerous by the day.”

He looked down, the spirit offering him a Shonen Jump magazine, a stolen boombox nearby clicking to life. He crushed the can and threw it away, landing near Haru’s feet. The remaining droplets splashed onto her shoes. She clicked her tongue but didn’t make a fuss. Number one ruffled his hair with his hands and tugged at the ends, completely baffled at the amount of contraband he had. He glared at the boombox, hoping he could will it to turn off, the grating low quality scratching his ears. Jotaro stood up, dumping the book onto his mattress and stepping toward the front.

“Do you still think you should release me?” He asked, taking off his hat and throwing it at the table behind him.

“Then I’ll show you how serious this can get. So you’ll have no doubt in your mind,” the bars were the only thing forcing him to keep his distance. He reached out towards officer number two. 

“That I can’t be let free.”

Haru saw it. The thing from that night. It was quick, weaving through the bars, reaching to latch onto number two’s gun, tearing through its lanyard. Number two moved back in surprise, his hand moving to catch at the snapped rope. Haru flinched in surprise. Quickly realising what it was doing, her arm moved. She reached out for the gun. Missing it by mere centimeters. Holly gaped at the purple limb, blanched and taken aback.

The spirit pulled back, the handgun now in Jotaro’s hands. 

“Shit- My gun! How did you get that?!” Both officers grabbed the girls and pulled them away from the iron bars.

“You didn’t see it, did you?” His eyes narrowed at Haru, seeing her lean away from the cops. “If that’s the case…”

Haru stared at him, a drop of cold sweat running down her chin. He aimed the gun at his head and pulled the hammer with his thumb, the cylinder rotating into place. Her heart dropped. Holly yelled out and Haru paled.

“J-Jotaro!-”

He fired a bullet at his head. The hard bang of it crashed off the walls, amplifying the noise and startling the other residents. Haru jumped, the subtle ring distant in her mind at the sight of smoke. Number two sucked air in through his teeth, his body stiff and tight, his arm out in front of Haru was shaking. He would probably be fired once his workmates found the boy's body with his gun in the cell. But looking into the cell revealed Jotaro was fine. He was still standing, untouched at that. He let out a held breath and eyed the bullet to his right.

It was floating in the air. 

To the average person, that is. The spirit was behind him, holding onto the fired bullet, unmoving and unaffected by the impact and force to push said bullet out. Jotaro recovered quickly and held the gun out, the bullet floating along. Holly looked at her son and behind him tentatively, shrunken in on herself and hands fisting her blouse in fear.

“There’s been someone behind me,” he muttered. Jotaro flipped the gun around so the grip was out for the officers to take. “For over two weeks, it’s been stuck to me. No one’s been able to see it.”

The spirit dropped the bullet, the item clinking on the floor. He locked onto Haru, as did she, knowing what his look signified. Her brows furrowed down and lips snarled in fear, her face a look of trepidation.

“No one.”

-

Number two grabbed his gun and ushered Holly away from Jotaro, Haru refusing to cooperate with the two. She stood firm with her feet planted and head.

“Leave already.”

Number one swallowed the lump in his throat and let them be, quickly leaving with number two. Other officers came in to remove the other three in the cell, their eyes welling with tears and voices ringing out ‘thank you’s to them. The boy from that night apologized, his mutterings mixed with various blessings he spurted (what a turn of events, Haru didn’t expect the drunken type to be so… devout?) but she ignored him and waved the boy away. What the hell?

The area hushed and silence swept over the two. Jotaro and Haru stood separated by the bars, glowering at each other.

“So, no one can see your… evil spirit. Is that right?” Haru said, crossing her arms, she would assume the same for her own spirit haunting her. Jotaro stood up, tall and imposing, his face dark from the limited lighting in the facility. His hair curled and fluffed up, weirdly distorted from the regular use of his hat. He was impassive, showing only a hint of critique in his eyes. Tilting his head down, he confirmed: no one could see it.

“Everyone who’s come across me was unable to see it. Everyone.” he said, balling his hand into a fist. 

“Except you.”

Haru tilted her chin up and to the side, gazing at Jotaro through her dark eyelashes, indifferent. She moved her weight onto one side of her hip and hummed.

“Everyone but me .”

“I don’t get it, Haru…” Jotaro ruffled his hair and shoved his hand over his face, peeved at his situation. He glared at Haru, who raised her brow expectantly, silently asking him to continue, ignoring the unauthorised use of her given name. This was probably the first time he had properly addressed her, using her identity and not just ‘Hey’ or ‘You’. Jotaro narrowed his eyes, grabbing the bar that separated them. He leaned down.

“Why can you see it? Out of everyone in the fucking world, it had to be you. ”

She scowled, brushing her hair out of the way. “Don’t cry like this is my fault. Also, who said you could use my given name?” 

“I think it’s obvious it was you who started this,” Haru pointed a finger at Jotaro through the bars. “So think of a solution to this quick. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got a problem of my own that’s probably connected to yours. And based on what you said earlier, it’s going to get far worse from here on out if we just sit in prison and wait it out, like you.” 

Haru referred to the dragon she was positive she was haunted by. She could feel it faintly, the chill of it running down her spine. She scowled and rubbed the back of her neck, it was aching again; no doubt a result of the other night. She thought of her friends; there was no doubt that while Yoshida was stuck bedridden, Iori and Sato were out trying to find clues on what happened on Tuesday. Ditching class, much to Haru’s chagrin. They would search both the library and the location of the marketplace, while Haru went to visit Jotaro. She wasn’t exactly lucky when drawing sticks from Yoshida.

“The other three already know and are out trying to be helpful. Mayumi-Chan and Iori-Kun are in town.”

Great , he thought. More people are in the loop. This is the opposite of what he wanted, he was already pissed his mother had to get involved, prefering to keep this shit on the down-low. Jotaro exhaled, frustration rising again,he was at rock bottom and was still going lower. Sato and Iori were in town, on their own wild goose chase- He blinked.

“What about Takuya?”

“Yoshida-Kun? He’s getting released today, so I told him to stay home. But he’ll meet up with Iori-Kun later.”

That’s right. Haru and those deadbeat guys weren’t the only ones his spirit hurt; Iori and Yoshida were as well. Jotaro guessed they got involved the moment he went out with them. He wished he didn’t allow himself to relax at the market with them, also regretted splitting off from the group, even if what happened was unplanned by all parties. 

“You’re useless inside this cell. But I doubt the officers want to let you out now. Not after the stunt you pulled.” Not that she cared if they saw her leave with him tagging behind.

“I’m dangerous outside this cell. They’re right to want me in here,” he moved his face close to the bars, parallel to Haru’s. “Get that through your fucking head.” 

It seemed like it was his angsty self taking the reign in this conversation. Him refusing to leave just halted their little ‘investigation’ since he was just a tiny bit more knowledgeable on the topic.

“What about school?"

“Go home.”

Haru gritted her teeth. “This isn’t a one man problem, dimwit ,” she moved closer to the bars. “You aren’t the only one in this mess. Our friends are involved in this now, too. So leave with me and we’ll sort this out faster-”

Jotaro sneered at her ignorance and reached through the bars, seizing Haru by the fabric on her chest and scrunching it up in his fist. He regained his height and hauled her up to his face and off the floor. He pressed her chest against the bars, and her hands moved to grasp the iron rods on either side to balance herself. Haru drew her face away from his, arching her back to create as much space as possible between them. Her scarf slipped from her shoulders to her elbows and slightly down her back, reminding Jotaro of kimono collars that are dragged down to show the wearer's nape and neckline. Haru puffed, her eyes narrowed and her pupils dilated with bitterness.

“Hey, punk,” she growled, grabbing his wrist. “Put me down.”

“You don’t get it.” He said, feeling breathless. His eyes widened and Haru almost mistook his expression for fear. “You just don’t fucking get it. I will kill you the next time that spirit comes out! It touches your neck again and you're dead!”

He closed his eyes and took a breather. God, this bitch got on his nerves.

“Sorry. Just… wait until I get my own shit under control. Then I’ll help you and we can sort this out.”

“Fine ,” Haru sighed, putting her chin up, hands letting go of the bar and wrist in defeat. She raised them to where he could see. “Fine. I understand, you’ve made your point. I’ll relent for now.”

Jotaro let go of her and grabbed his hat off the table, settling it on his head.

“Sort yourself first,” Haru muttered, straightening her clothes. “I’ll continue with the others.”

Jotaro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “My bad.”

“Doesn’t matter, alright?” Haru said, digging through her pocket. She pulled out a pouch, a pen, and a piece of paper. She wrote both her home phone number down and Sato’s, handing it to him. “If you’re out by the weekend or find something, call one of these numbers. Mine is the first one, Mayumi-Chan’s is the one on the bottom.”

He stuffed it in his pocket, humming in confirmation. 

Earlier before, Jotaro saw the look of recognition in Holly’s eyes when he grabbed the gun using the spirit. She definitely saw what the others couldn’t, much like Haru. He didn’t like it. His idiot classmates were already in the know, so if Holly caught wind of them being aware, she’d probably want to give a hand. Or something stupid like that.

“Haru,” she looked at him. “I need a favour.”

“Ughh. Keep it small then.”

-

Haru moved back, getting ready to leave. She threw the pouch at Jotaro, who caught it easily without breaking eye contact with her. He raised his eyebrow at her.

“That’s yours,” she said. “We got it at the market.”

Haru looked away and brushed her hair out of her face. Jotaro noticed a hint of unease on her face. She didn’t feel right, she felt nervous that Jotaro wouldn’t leave with her. She would never admit it, but despite his spirit and Jotaro being… Jotaro , she felt weirdly unsafe the farther she got away from him. Haru didn’t like this feeling, akin to natural instinct that told her something was waiting for her in the near future. She groaned and tried to wave away a deep feeling of oncoming dread.

“Just don’t take too long here, Kujo-Kun,” she frowned, feeling a bit vulnerable at the mention. “You’re the only other one who can see those things, so don’t leave me on my own. Get out fast.”

He lowered his head, holding the pouch in his fist.

“Mm.”

-

“Ah, Haru-San, you're back.” Holly said, standing up from where she previously sat, waiting for her to leave the cell’s location. Haru reeled back in surprise.

“Holly-San? You’re still here.” 

They walked out the front door, bowing to the officers as they passed. It was chilly outside, and the wind had picked up while the two were inside. Holly's blouse was a little thin for the weather, so she hugged her arms close to her body. The woman was clearly stunned and troubled by how the day began. She stared at the ground, agonising over the day's events in great detail, stressing over her son. Him shooting himself, especially. Haru noticed and thought for a second. She wrapped her scarf around the fretty woman, folding it cleanly while Holly perked, no doubt surprised by the kind gesture. Haru looped it to cover Holly’s exposed neck.

“It’s far too cold to be out here like this, Holly-San,” Haru said, looking at her. “I hope you drove here…”

Holly stood still as Haru tapped her shoulder to signify she was finished.

“Were you in a rush to get here?”

Holly looked at Haru, then to the ground. She felt her vision cloud and she turned away to wipe her face, a bit embarrassed at her predicament.

“Y-yes. I left as soon as I was called!” Holly smiled at Haru. “Thank you so much, dear, I…”

Haru watched as Holly covered her mouth to hide the crack in her voice, tears dripping down her face and body shaking. All she could focus on was the ringing from the gun and the thin scent of gunpowder. Haru sighed cordially and put her arm around Holly, the woman quickly clung to her. This was probably harder for her to come to terms with than Haru, as this was her own son, not just some annoying kid from her school. Haru rubbed her back slowly, albeit awkwardly, to soothe Holly.

“I’m so sorry,” Holly cried. “I don’t know what to do with Jotaro or how to help him! That spirit. The officers couldn't see it, but I did. It grabbed the gun and then Jotaro…!”

Haru blinked, frowning. So Holly could see it. She considered her next words.

-

“*Hahaoya saw the spirit too.” Jotaro told Haru. 

“Really?”

“Mn. But I don’t want you to say anything to her” Haru folded her arms. “I don’t want you telling her crap that’ll make her want to help.”

“Don’t involve her.”

-

“There, there,” Haru said, giving Holly a reassuring smile, though strained. “Kujo-Kun will be fine, Holly-San.”

Holly looked at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright,” She rubbed Holly’s back and broke away from the hug, looking her in the eyes. “I’ll send one of my friends to check on him tomorrow and on Saturday while I’m at school. So just go home and relax. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

Holly stared at her, overcome with joy and gratefulness. Jotaro had made some kind friends. This girl, she was glad Jotaro was friends with her. But that spirit would still need dealing with. She beamed at Haru, once again chipper and filled with relief. She clutched the cashmere scarf, comforting in its warm feeling.

“Thank you so much, Haru-San. I mean it.” 

Holly would give her father a call when she got home. He would know more of it than her.

-

Haru was welcomed back to class, the entire of her homeroom greeting her when she entered, a few peers giving her small gifts and getting well cards. Iori had already received some the previous day, before promptly ditching class.

“Yamagishi-Chan! This one’s from the whole class!” One boy said. “You too, Takuya! These are for you!”

The two had gifts piled on their desks: food, drinks from the vending machines, and even flowers and stuffed animals. These guys were way too overboard, but it was genuinely heartwarming. Yoshida shared a box of chocolates with Sato, the teacher being lenient just this once, happy at the warmth of his students. This group had been one of the closest he’d teached, and he felt so proud of them. He smiled at Haru and the boys, happy to see her and Yoshida back so quickly. Haru really was a good example of the two boys, they seemed more studious the more they interacted with them. And Haru felt more carefree with them; they were a good balance.

“Welcome back, Yamagishi-San.” He said to Haru as she stepped up to the podium for morning announcements, their assembly was cancelled so they went straight into homeroom and roll call. She smiled at him

“I’m glad to see you’ve recovered so quickly, the class sure missed you, Yoshida-San as well.”

She tried to hide her widening grin with a small, more polite one. One that her teacher instantly saw through and huffed a chuckle at. “It’s good to be back.”

“Good timing too,” he said. “I’ve been notified the transfer student is here and is down in the teacher’s office. I’ll go get him and be right back, try to keep the class settled while I’m gone.” 

The teacher gave her a thumbs up and left, his black head of straight hair out of sight, the door sliding closed. Haru turned to the class, some with their notebooks open and some just chatting. She rounded up their attention and began roll call. As she finished up, she notified the class of a new arrival that the teacher was getting.

“Sensei already told us this but make sure to give them a warm welcome!”

The class exclaimed in excited agreement. Haru continued on with morning announcements, almost done when the teacher slid open the door. He stepped in, a tall boy hidden behind him. The class hushed when they saw the new kid, hair an uncommon shade of deep red, and his eyes unnaturally bright. He made eye contact with Haru, his half-lidded look sending cold jolts down her body, she tilted her head down. The teacher stood next to Haru.

“Everyone, this is the transfer student,” he offered a hand to the board. “Please introduce yourself.”

He grabbed a piece of chalk from the teacher and spelled his name. He looked over the class and bowed down.

“My name is Kakyoin Noriaki. Pleased to meet you all.”

The teacher accepted it and warmly nodded at Kakyoin.

“Welcome, Kakyoin-San, you’ll be in great hands with this class.” He said, giving a look to his students. The teacher gestured to Haru who stood next to him. Kakyoin's sights zoned in on her again, leering at her through his dark eyelashes. “This is Yamagishi-San, class president. Both she and I will show you around the school grounds and get you accustomed to our curriculum.” 

“Your seat is in front of hers, so she’ll be available to assist you, within reason.” He gave Haru a pat on the shoulder. “She’s very reliable. ”

“I’m Yamagishi Haru. Welcome, Kakyoin-Kun. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Haru bowed, Kakyoin doing the same. He gave her a malign smile, his hair coiling around his face and blank eyes creased in pleasure.

“I’ll be in your care…”