Chapter Text
The Frontera Estate was unusually quiet that morning.
Lloyd Frontera - heir, schemer, and self-proclaimed genius of property development - was pacing in the garden with the intensity of a man trying to calculate the perfect profit margin from sunlight itself.
“If I adjust the irrigation system angle by 3.7 degrees, I could increase herb yield efficiency by- ”
A sound tore through the sky like reality itself being folded wrong.
A crack. A rip. Then two bodies dropped from nowhere.
“GYAAAAH- !” one of them shouted.
They hit the garden lawn in a tangled heap, rolling straight into Lloyd’s carefully measured flowerbed and, unfortunately, directly into him.
Lloyd was knocked flat.
From a distance, Javier Asrahan, ever vigilant and responsible for keeping Lloyd alive despite Lloyd’s best efforts otherwise, froze.
“Lloyd?” Javier called.
No response.
His face darkened.
“LLOYD?!”
He sprinted through the garden like a man watching his entire career evaporate.
---
What Javier found was not Lloyd unconscious.
It was Lloyd sitting upright, perfectly fine, staring at the two strangers like he had just seen the economic reincarnation of divine punishment.
The two intruders were still recovering from the fall.
One was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a strange outfit, muttering something under his breath.
“America… damn it… Funny Valentine- ”
The other, younger, blond, with a calmer but equally bewildered expression, added:
“This isn’t the desert… where are we?”
Javier’s hand went to his sword.
“Who are you people?”
The taller one looked up. “Name’s Gyro Zeppeli.”
The younger followed. “Johnny Joestar.”
Lloyd, still sitting in the dirt, whispered like a man seeing ancient history crawl out of a textbook:
“…No way.”
Javier blinked. “You know them?”
Lloyd slowly stood up, brushing dirt off his clothes with the solemnity of a man whose worldview had just been forcibly updated.
“…They’re from JoJo Part 7: Steel Ball Run.”
Silence.
Javier stared at him.
“…From what?”
Lloyd pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Never mind. It’s complicated. Just - don’t let them die. That would create a timeline disaster, probably.”
Gyro narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You know about Valentine? And the Steel Ball Run?”
Lloyd looked horrified. “Of course I do. Unfortunately, I live in a world where that story exists as literature, which is somehow worse.”
Johnny looked around. “So… where are we?”
Lloyd exhaled.
“You are currently standing in the Frontera Estate. And unless I am hallucinating due to overwork - which is statistically plausible - you have been forcibly relocated into a parallel world.”
Gyro nodded once. “D4C.”
“Bless you?” Javier offered cautiously.
“No,” Lloyd said flatly. “That’s not a sneeze. That’s the problem.”
---
Against all reasonable expectations, Lloyd insisted they be housed in the estate.
Javier protested for approximately twelve seconds before giving up, as Lloyd had already begun outlining “strategic hospitality integration” that sounded suspiciously like monetizing interdimensional tourism.
The guest room was large. Too large. Javier did not trust it.
Neither, apparently, did Gyro and Johnny.
---
Later that night, Javier passed by the corridor.
He stopped.
“…Are they laughing?”
From inside the room, muffled voices:
“You cannot tell me that guy just casually identified D4C like it’s a tax policy,” Gyro was saying.
Johnny chuckled. “This place is weird.”
Javier sighed and walked away.
---
The next morning, Lloyd and Javier went to check on them.
The door opened.
And immediately closed again.
Javier turned slowly to Lloyd.
“…Did you see that?”
Lloyd, expression unreadable, adjusted his collar.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“…They were kissing.”
Javier stared.
Lloyd stared back.
Then, very faintly-
They both sniggered.
Not loudly.
Not openly.
But enough.