Work Text:
It was a peaceful afternoon in Morioh. Clear skies, birds chirping, a perfect summer day.
And Rohan Kishibe hated it.
He sat at his desk, pen poised over his sketchbook, a page only half finished. A breeze slipped through the open window, idly flipping the corner of the page he was on. The ink completely dried, yet he hadn't made a stroke in over an hour. God, he was completely off schedule, not that a schedule could ever keep up with Rohan Kishibe. But yet, nothing came to him, his mind too preoccupied on other matters. How could he create in this state? How could he create a masterpiece, one that deserved to be read, to impart his creative vision, when his heart, body, and soul wasn't even into it?
Tsk. Annoying.
He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back, the scrape of wood on his floor bursting through the silence of his workspace. He grabbed his keys, heading out his door, only one destination on his mind. Reimi's alley. His feet took him through the same steps he'd taken years ago, the corners of Morioh that had long since stopped holding surprises. Of course, Reimi hadn't been there in little over a year. Which was a good thing, he supposed. It was a good thing that she finally got to rest, knowing that Kira had faced justice. Besides, Rohan couldn't say he missed Reimi's presence. How could you miss a girl you barely knew? Sure, she'd saved him as a child, and he respected her, but....he didn't miss her. He didn't miss her like how he'd seen that kid Josuke think of his grandfather, vowing to use his stand in order to keep normal civilians out of the matters of stand users, or Jotaro excusing himself to visit a small grave, silently paying his respects(a good friend from high school, he'd gruffly explained, one who should be living alongside the other crusaders. (He'd refused to explain further.)) No, she'd rarely crossed his mind in the days after she'd left. Did he feel guilty about it? A little. But it's not as if he didn't speak to her before she left, and anyways, she'd want them to move on and continue to live life normally, so that's exactly what he did. Rohan continued to create.
He stopped just short of the alley, where the light fades and the air grows still. As expected, there was nothing. No flicker of her pink dress. No flash of a warm smile. No polite greeting or reminder of the girl who made sure peace returned to Morioh. Rohan crossed his arms, staring at the empty space.
"I wasn't looking for you," He muttered to no one in particular. "I just happened to be walking by. It's my town. I can go where I want."
Silence.
"You've gone. Of course you have. That was the whole point. You're supposed to have moved on. That's what happens to ghosts when they have no more purpose. They leave." Us, he was tempted to add. Still, his eyes didn't leave the place where she once was.
"You saved my life. I helped bring Kira to justice. We're even. We've been even." He muttered, eyes sweeping the alley, just for a glimpse. Of Arnold even. He barely remembered the dog, even from his own childhood, yet he found a part of himself longing to see him again, both of them. He stayed there until the sun dropped lower in the sky, shadow stretching across the alley. But she didn't appear. She wouldn't.
"Fine," Rohan glared. "I do miss you. There, I've said it." Sure, he'd admitted it when she was about to leave, but he thought that would only affect him then, how was he supposed to know that even so, the longing would have a hold on his heart? The breeze tousled his hair, blowing a scrap of ribbon, caught on a small rock, catching his eye. Of course, it reminded him of the yellow one in her hair.
As an artist, Rohan Kishibe possessed an ability far greater than any stand he'd seen. He had the ability to immortalize a being after their death. To capture their very essence in his work, preserving them in the present for as long as he wanted. It was not an ability he used often, never really seeing a reason to, but now...Reimi deserved this little from him, to ensure that she lived on in the memory of not just those who knew her in Morioh, 1999.
Eventually, Rohan turned away. Back in his studio, he picked up his pen again. The page was just as he left it, but this time, his hand moved with determined ease. He sketched quickly, precisely, filling the empty panel with a quiet alley under soft light. And just faintly, in the corner, a girl with a ribbon in her hair, a dog by her side. Not a ghost, but the newest edition to Pink Dark Boy.
When asked about the newest character by fans, Rohan did not disclose of Reimi Sugimoto's influence on his character. He merely told of a girl who's bravery and self-sacrifice inspired him to add her character in his work. But the real reason, to have her presence nearby, long after she was at rest, he wouldn't tell anyone. Not even himself.