Chapter Text
The highway was busy as always, but in the eerie tranquil of your mind it felt empty as you drove home.
You hadn’t been fired, but you might as well have been a month ago. So, you quit. Your two week’s notice ended today.
It was definitely the right decision. The pay was shit, the boss was even worse, and what hours you managed to scrounge by weren’t enough when everyone was fighting tooth and nail for it. Too many people, not enough work, not enough money, not enough care.
The job sucked. It just sucked more that you didn’t have a backup plan.
You sighed as your car slid into your driveway, parking with an unceremonious thunk of the stick shift and leaning back into your seat to stare at the ceiling.
If you remembered right, school was just about newly out. For all the kids in America, that meant three months of free time. Without a job, it was probably the same for you- except now, you were an adult. Now, you had responsibilities.
You had to sit down with your thoughts, and you fucking hated doing that.
…on the plus side, maybe you could finally watch some anime you’d been meaning to get back to.
With a chuckle at that thought, you opened the door and sat up, pulling your keys out of the ignition. At the very least, you could get started on some chores. You kept your thoughts busy as you walked, the path so familiar you didn’t even have to think about it, only snapping back to reality when you heard the jangling of keys on the hook.
“...home, sweet home,” you muttered to yourself with a sigh, kicking off your shoes. Your house wasn’t all that impressive to you, even if it had a decent amount of amenities, since you’d grown up in the damn thing. It always felt too empty nowadays, ever since it’d been passed down to you, though you didn’t like to think about it too m-
…that was a man on your couch.
What?
“Uh,” you vocalized eloquently, standing there and blinking. You had precautionary measures for burglary, sure, but other than the man on your couch, nothing seemed out of place.
Something in the back of your mind said he was familiar, weirdly enough. You’d think you’d know if you knew someone this buff.
…goddamnit, you might be in trouble, actually. This guy could snap you like a twig. Professional bodybuilders had nothing on him, and you could tell because the shirt left nothing to the imagina-
With fire rushing to your cheeks, you cut that thought off. He was objectively hot, sure, but it was weird to think that about a possible burglar. Besides, you weren’t much for romance.
After a moment of deliberation, you decided to get the pepper spray out of your bag and wait for him to wake up. If he actually meant harm, you had your phone. If he didn’t…
…well, you’d figure it out.
As it turned out, the guy slept like a fucking rock. You were even able to put on some Whose Line on the TV at a decent volume without bothering him, and eventually you got bored enough to start on the dishes.
You hated doing the dishes.
Still, you couldn’t help but glance back to him every now and then, weirdly anxious to when he would actually open his eyes. Uncannily, the back of your mind kept insisting you knew him. Where, though? High school? Elementary school?
He had wild black (nearly blue) hair and a peaceful expression, and he was built like a goddamn brick wall, but that was about it. Nothing about him should’ve been familiar.
Just when you were about to slam your head against the table or something in frustration, you heard a groan.
Your head snapped over to the couch, and you nearly knocked the faucet handle into the wall turning it off. Barely bothering to dry your hands, you reached for the haphazardly placed can of pepper spray (the size of a lipstick tube) and speedwalked to the living room.
He was sitting up, rubbing his eyes like a little kid. When he was finally upright and seemingly awake, he met your gaze.
His eyes were blue.
…okay, cool.
“Er,” he started, and even without speaking a word you could tell he was extremely British. Posh, too. “Pardon me, could you tell me where I am?”
You blinked, subconsciously lowering the spray. He sounded like he meant it, but you couldn’t be too careful. “I was about to ask something like that,” you replied coolly. “Why are you in my house?”
He took a minute to process that, eyes widening. “Eh?! I-I deeply apologize, I was not aware of-”
Even his voice was ringing a bell in your brain. You were going to get a headache at this point. “It’s alright,” you cut him off, making the rash decision to pocket the pepper spray.
God, what was with you today?
“I mean, you scared the shit out of me,” you continued, watching him jolt in surprise at the swear, “but I checked that nothing was stolen, and you seem like you’re telling the truth. Besides, if you meant any harm I’m pretty sure I’d be dead by now.”
You were just joshing, really, but he seemed to take it weirdly seriously. He shook his head and looked you dead in the eye with a measure of determination. “I would never harm a woman.”
…
Maybe you were too quick to make assumptions, but somehow he didn’t sound like an incel saying that. Just really, really old fashioned.
What the fuck?
“Uh, okay,” you said instead of voicing all that, choosing to ignore it instead. “If you’re stuck here, we should probably get to introductions.” After all, you couldn’t just call him ’buff dude’ or something stupid like that. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”
“Oh! In my haste, I had completely forgotten,” the man admitted, almost shrinking in on himself. “My name is Jonathan Joestar. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss (L/N), though I wish it was in better circumstances…”
No fucking way.
As soon as the pieces clicked, a thump was heard from upstairs, and you let out an audible groan.
Jonathan stood up. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” you said, but you had a sinking feeling your guess was right- that this was a reverse isekai, and you were right in the middle of it.
Something told you this wasn’t going to be nearly as fun as the fanfics.