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#JOTARO IS SO FUCKING UGHSSHDBHDNAKJNFS
stilemawillow · 1 year
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Loverboy [Jotaro Kujo | Reader]
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So, think I met Jotaro about… a month ago? Maybe a bit more. I’m not the bad guy by any means – there’s just followers of the cult all around. White-haired buzzcut guy spewing bullshit about revenge. I’m young and breezy, I want no trouble. I’m no part of no band – no delusions there. I just got friends, need to return favours and hooked on love. See, so that’s the key most times. But also, like, you could call it a release and a sealant at the same time.
I was five when my momma told me stories about love. She ain’t ever love my father, though. There were cigarette butts and liquor bottles all around the house. Nice little picture right there. No modern stuff. Sundresses and hats – she beat my ass when I asked what the weird balloons in my dad’s pockets were for. So, you see, love isn’t all peachy all the time. Hard to fight for it. My momma fought for it constantly. Oh, and when she lost the battle, she was beaten. But like, repeatedly. Wore sunglasses a lot. Didn’t curse, though. Bless her little soul. My father loved too much was all.
I loved a lot like him – high school came easy and popularity was a competition I didn’t bother to win. Was mine to begin with.
I have my dad’s good looks and my momma’s patience. The old man died some two years ago – his lady took off her ring way before but she’s doing good in the nursing home. So I’m what? Young, handsome, loving and just a bit weird. It makes me cool, though. How I got in with the friends I’m currently doing favours for – you could see I had a falling out with a band, then a girl slapped me, and another one, and some pink shoes were in a dumpster down the street, my car bumper wasn’t doing well, I switched locations, ain’t nobody chasing me and, well, it’s a long story.
I’ve personally got nothing against nobody. Unless they disrespect love. And I can tell you Jotaro Kujo’s big on disrespect.
Disrespect this and that and him and her and – who are you to be calling women bitches when they just want a piece? God, you gotta thank them and give them love. So our main guy had a problem, dragged his geezer along for it – if I’m not mistaken, a Frenchman, a cherry-lover and a weird shaman were involved, too. And the fucking dog – tell you the truth, dogs are no best friend, they the devil waiting for a weak spot to lunge at.
So, a merry band goes to kill a vampire with a big following. Of course some are going to get angry. I’m not one of them, I’ve only listened to stories. Here and there, and this one’s a dirtbag, that died, those were nasty, we laughed here and ran there, lots of failure and now we’re here.
I’m not a man who fails – have that as a disclaimer. So, it might be forty days since I met Jotaro now. You know, for a big as fuck disrespecter, he’s trying to be smart and, I gotta give it to him, he manages. Dreams – marine or something biology. Fine with me. Not interesting since it’s got no love inside of it but hey, perfection runs short these days. And I know from experience it’s hard being a good guy.
So, if you’ll be asking how I met Jotaro – we bumped once. Didn’t say sorry or anything. That when I knew the favour will be a breeze when it came to conscience. No guilt can torment me over a guy who don’t even say sorry when he bumps into you. Ah, but that’s not the important point. So, this job takes a bit of devotion and some inspection. I have to be careful with schedules, placements and the time of day. I also need collateral damage. I’m good at picking that shit out. Trust me on this. So I’m doing my thing, following, looking, inspecting, analysing – shouldn’t underestimate me when it comes to analysing.
I can sniff impossible love across a street. Cause some people just stink, you know? Jotaro especially. So it don’t really matter who collateral damage is. All it matters is to find somebody as stinky. And there’s this girl, man, they’ve probably talked twice or something of the sort. Share all their university classes. My momma would laugh if she knew I ever stepped foot inside a university. Back to the point. The girl stinks and Jotaro stinks. A match made in heaven. Pichit will have a fucking blast when I tell him about it later.
So, I got my collateral damage – a smarty pants with terrible hair. She’s got nice ears, though. Not big enough of a redemption but still. Nice feet, too. All I need is the placement and their university’s got this gorgeous fountain. Green stuff around, birds chirping, nice things. If they’re lucky, I’ll pin the time to two in the afternoon so they can have lots of sunlight. But that depends on circumstances, not on me.
Target – check. Collateral damage – check. Placement – check.
I need a time and that’s all up to fate but inspection lets me believe it should be coming along soon. You see, their schedules just barely brush at the fountain each Thursday. For – what? – fifty days now, I been watching the moment come closer and closer. They gotta come in contact or nothing’s gonna work out. But I said, I’m patient like my momma. And then we’ve got about a second to go and the job is done. It’s complicated shit when you’re telling it to somebody dumb. But I need lots of ingredients and, how do I dumb this down? I make prisons out of love. Here you go. Simplest description there is.
I’m hanging around on the rooftop, swinging legs and all, waiting for lunch break. I’ll probably have to hang around for another week before I can get to work but, hey, sandwiches here are pretty good. I have a perfect view of the fountain, too. I push my sunglasses and I see that big disrespecter come out of the building. It’s just the thing. He sits on the side of the fountain.
Some chick comes along begging for love and he’s being rude. And then my pretty collateral damage shows up – opposite direction, heading for him. Not for him, though. I know she sits on the other side of the fountain. But if there’s contact, there’s a miracle. I’m hanging off the edge of my seat. Literally. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up repaying favours from the clouds.
“You, bitch, come over here.” Or so I can picture him saying it. His hand waves. The chick next to him is smiling – wait, shit, there’s a spot on my sunglasses. No, no, she’s frowning. My collateral damage stops in front of them. I lean down further and stick out my tongue in concentration. You know, the worst part is not hearing shit when you gotta keep a distance. Something splatters on my shoulder. Man, this is a brand new suit. Fuck that bird. Oh, this stinks. And while I’m wiping at my suit with my glove – remind me to throw it away immediately after – there’s a giant as fuck splash down by the fountain.
Correction, in the fountain. I nearly gape when I look. Shit, fuck, this is perfect. Golden opportunity if I’ve ever seen one. My collateral damage’s in the fountain, soaked from head to toe. Jotaro probably pushed her. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Oh, this is spicy. She slaps his hand away when he reaches out for some reason. Dude, why you gotta make it worse on the girl you pushed? But this is my moment of contact. And here goes the job.
You gotta meet my buddy – Loverboy. Real cute guy. So I snap my fingers and he snaps his and it’s done. Well, not that quickly, but when we’re out of the loop, it will be. And I’ll still have to wash the freaking suit the bird shat on. Pichit will be paying for it. Now, honestly, all I gotta do is sit and watch the show. Do hope they make it interesting for me.
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“What’s going on?” Big wide eyes and clothes sticking to a shivering body.
“Hold still.” A commanding voice. She’s standing in the fountain and she can feel the water creating nasty friction between her socks and her toes. He’s looking around. He’s got the same mean look he does every day. It’s pissing her off because, all of a sudden, everybody’s gone and he’s telling her to hold still like it’ll make people reappear.
“Don’t tell me to sit still, Kujo. This is weird. I need to try to find somebody.” She crosses her arms and his eyes strike her, glaring sternly even when he’s the one sitting down.
“I told you not to move.” He tries to reach for her but she huffs and turns around, crossing the fountain and making water pour on the ground when she steps out and shakes her head before heading for the building.
He glares at her back and cautiously rises from his seat. This is a Stand at work. But whose? He needs to figure out the ability and the range. There’s nobody around when he was surrounded by people a second ago. And why is (Y/N) the only one with him? It has something to do with the ability, he’s sure of it. Either that or she’s the Stand user. A scream echoes and he whips his head in its direction. He sees brain particles splattered on the door frame as it crushes her.
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Just let me make a small disclaimer again. I can’t laugh in situations like this because I’ll be found quickly. But, man, seeing Jotaro the disrespecter’s shock when the door takes out my collateral damage – precious. Beyond precious.
And trust me, I don’t like squashing pretty ladies. But this one’s in for a lot of squashing and impaling and whatever else I can think of. Because, you know, I gotta make things plausible. Not just dangerous. And with how little chemistry there’s here, one or the other is sure to walk away from the safe starting point I picked out. I just have to wait for it and bam. But also, I didn’t actually think the door would work. If it hadn’t, I would’ve probably resorted to a bit of legwork. And I always have to kickstart shit because it’s not fun if I just leave them be. We all need a shock factor. Anyway.
First try. First fail. I think I’m aiming for twenty or so. Sounds plausible. Jotaro’s strong and he’s seen some shit so he’ll beat the average ten. But what’s twenty battles when you’re losing the war? Yeah, exactly – nothing. Oh, this will be quick, easy and fun. I love when things are quick, easy and fun.
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The same vacant yard. The same building. The doors are intact. Jotaro’s back to sitting down. His eyes widen and he glances at the fountain. She’s there and she makes no attempt to stand up. Wet from head to toe, staring ahead. She can’t see anything.
“Stand still now,” he commands immediately, reaching out a protective hand to prevent any movement in case she tries to be reckless again. This is without a doubt a Stand’s ability. But it doesn’t give him any hints as to the range and the essence of it. It gives him nothing besides the fact they shouldn’t go into the building. It would be safest not to move at all. 
“I died.” Her voice quivers and her shoulders are shaken by violent tremors when he looks down at her. “It was real,” she whispers blankly, eyes wide with horror. His lips purse. He can’t make sense of this just yet but he knows now at least she’s not the Stand user. In that case, he has to protect her. He tells her she’s fine and she registers his presence. “You’re not the one who felt it! Kujo, I fucking died! It--- my fucking arm and my head---“ But she’s frantic and he has to lean over to grasp her shoulder.
“Quiet. I’ll get us out.” He lets it slip and she immediately asks if he knows what’s going on. “No. Not yet.” His eyes are scanning the space. The building seems empty. There’s no place around the yard that can hide a person and a Stand. It could be a long-range. She’s asking him what he knows. He keeps quiet. Approaching the building is dangerous. The opposite direction could be safe. He’ll have to test it. What’s the essence of this ability? Encapsulation, isolation – but a normal human is here, too. He hasn’t encountered such ability before. She’s saying he has to tell her because she died back there. He sighs. “This is the work of a Stand user. Our circumstances are the ability of the Stand.”
“And a Stand is?” She’s staring at him doubtfully while he explains a Stand is the manifestation of the owner’s soul and nobody knows exactly where they originate from. “So… a manifestation of somebody’s soul wiped everybody out and killed me?” She seems more and more dumbstruck by the second. She tries to scoot closer to his edge of the fountain.
“I don’t think everybody’s wiped out.” It would be impossible. A Stand cannot have such instantaneously giant destructive power and wield manipulation of space at the same time. If it did and he was the target, he would’ve died, too. She says that they’ve been wiped out and he shakes his head. “We could’ve been transported.” It’s the most plausible conclusion taking into account everything else.
“What, like an isolated case?” She’s staring up at him while he tries to surmise their surroundings again. Everything is faithful to reality but there are no other life forms besides them two. No birds when there were birds. No insects as far as he can see. It’s a mental trick.
“It’s the only thing I can think of which would allow for a restart the moment you died.” Because bending reality and time like that was impossible even for The World. It could freeze time for seconds but it couldn’t warp the physical world at will. Even Jotaro can’t. And when she asks if this is a mental or physical space because dying felt pretty real to her, he snorts. “It’s a mental space, no doubt. Now I just need to find the Stand user.”
“But if it’s a mental space, he won’t be here,” she argues instantly. His eyes narrow at her face – there’s water trickling down it. He knows she’s smart. He knows she’s quick to soak up information – quicker than him. He likes that about her. She might even prove to not be a nuisance while he’s trying to figure this out.
“So I have to gauge the ability more. If he’s here, I’ll find him. If he’s not, I’ll have to find a way out. He’s affecting the space around us so it’s a relatively long-range Stand. Which means it might be useless in close combat. When we find him, we’re out.” Jotaro stands up and spins in order to inspect the yard from all directions. They shouldn’t near the doors but can they go and check out the opposite side? And where would a Stand hide in here?
“You’re speaking from experience,” she observes solemnly. He spares her one look and doesn’t say anything. This requires more logic than it does strength. “What? So all of this is actually true and I’m supposed to believe it?” She’s just a bit outraged. He makes a step towards the fence on the left.
“Whichever you choose, don’t move.” The order is flat and harsh, and she sits in the fountain, crossed arms and a glare aimed at his back.
“You say, while you’re moving. What are you doing?” He nears the fence and tries to estimate whether movement in any direction signifies danger.
He’s about to look up when he can hear something moving down by his feet. The stone moves quickly but Star Platinum emerges just in time and grabs it as it's about to smash into Jotaro’s face. (Y/N)’s eyes widen at the happening. She can’t see anything but the rock hanging in the air next to Jotaro’s head. It happens way too quickly. Star Platinum is busy when the fence bends and pierces his chest. The pain is so indescribably familiar and he hates it. The sensation of dying isn’t so palpable.
“Seriously? You told me to sit still while you went ahead and died?” Her voice is loud and reproachful and he’s back at the fountain, sitting on the cold stone side while she’s inside, wet from head to toe and scowling at him.
“It wasn’t my intention.” But this proves it doesn’t matter who dies for the setting to restart. It also means the death isn’t truly real – if it was, the job would be done since he’s the target. There’s more to this ability. And surely, there’s a door of opportunity for them to leave its influence.
“Let’s just sit still and talk this time, okay?” She sits with her legs crisscrossed in the fountain and scoots closer. “Who is doing this to us? Not in the sense of a Stand user because I’ll just have to accept that part. I mean, who wants to kill us?” He sighs and says he’s the target since this is a Stand user. “You have how many enemies?” She quirks a brow and he looks at the way she wipes the water off her face. The sunlight makes each drop glimmer.
“I thought none,” he says with an averted gaze. She huffs and gets to clearing the wet hair from her forehead. He glances once and regrets it. Her neck is bare and while she’s flipping the hair behind her shoulders, he sees the way her shirt sticks to her chest.
“So we can’t figure out the person’s identity based on who you’ve spited,” she concludes slowly. “If you’re the target, why am I here?” He instantly dismisses that as unimportant. She gives a firm look. “I think it’s not. Now, I feel like you’re speaking Italian when you’re talking about Stands but they’ve got abilities. This particular one needs me here to be activated. So, is it a random pick or an ingredient?” He hasn’t thought about it but it’s more important to find the Stand user and beat his teeth out.
“I can’t say.” It’s a random pick at best in his opinion. He can’t be concerned with why it’s exactly her. But maybe he won’t be able to beat the Stand user seeing as this is a case of mental isolation. Could be a hallucination, an inner world, a visual trick or a way to manipulate and combine consciousness.
“We have to inspect that. Maybe it’s the way to getting out,” she insists on pursuing what for him is a dead end and he snorts at her adamancy.
“First, there’s no ‘we’ here. Second, all I need to do is find the Stand. Somebody is controlling our surroundings and if they’re confined in a mental space, the Stand has to be here to observe and monitor it.” In the least, the Stand would be present. The user can’t chart out a predictable script for their behavioural changes – he has to monitor and adjust his tactics according to their actions.
“And how do you plan on finding the Stand when we can’t move from the fountain?” She argues with a challenging look, making him glare. “I think my approach is better for our circumstances.” So she crawls out of the fountain carefully and sits next to him, glancing down at his backpack. “Can I use your notebook?” He sighs and waves a hand to convey that she can do whatever she wants. He turns to observe the fence that impaled him. Like the door, it wasn’t plausible for it to move in the way it did. Next to him, the girl chuckles. “This is cute, Kujo. It looks a bit like me.”
“It’s not you.” His head whips so he can observe what she’s talking about. Her fingers are leaving wet prints on his notebook and the page in the back is home to a sketch. He was bored and she was just two rows away. She was also the best subject. Her hair was nice that day. And she always seems to be immersed in classes she enjoys – her expression is very specific then. And pretty.
“It has my signature bun. And those right here are my favourite earrings,” she points out with a smug smile. His jaw clenches and he turns away from the drawing. “You had to look a lot to get the details. But my elbow’s a bit off. You weren’t listening in Anatomy class.” She’s mocking him and her elbow is nudging his arm. He purposefully moves further away and glares at the building to his left.
“Just shut up, (L/N).” But he can feel heat creeping up his neck and crawling into his face. His teeth are gritted. So what if he drew her that one time? It was a mistake anyway. Like when he stares at her. Or asks for her notes. She asks for his, too. They’ve had lunch together a few times. And just before the fucking Stand attacked, he might’ve been on his way to help her out of the fountain after the other girl pushed her and suggested that she wear his jacket.
“Are you embarrassed, Kujo?” She drawls with a smirk and water is dripping from the ends of her hair onto the notebook. She flips to another page so as to not ruin the sketch. “I’d show you how I made a cursive of your name when I was bored in Zoology but it’s drenched.” The offer makes him huff. His eyes are still on the university building on his left. She reaches into his backpack for a pen. “What if this is the link? I mean, us.” He’s about to call it ridiculous when he hears her breath hitch. She’s toppling over and he just barely catches her.
The fucking pen is jabbed into her throat.
She’s choking on the blood and there’s a gurgling sound just barely leaving her lips. His heart freezes at the sight. Her eyes are staring at him pleadingly. He swears he’s never felt this helpless. But also, this death is not real. It’s not real. The pain is hot and terrible but it’s not real. Three blinks later, she tries to say something. Doesn’t manage. And then she’s back in the fountain and the water isn’t turning pink because her blood’s dripping into it.
He lets out a ragged breath and reaches for her. Her eyes are wide, brows pinched together and she grabs his hand with no hesitation, clinging to it like her life depends on it. The shock will become too much for her at some point. He has to get them out before that. He pulls her closer, and slowly coaxes her out of the fountain and next to him. Water’s dripping from her, seeping into his clothes as he lets her cling to his arm for support and her breaths are quick and panicky.
He won’t be parting his eyes from her this time. Not for a fucking second. He’s responsible for this.
“Did you get scared, Kujo? You don’t let people touch you just like that.” She’s trying to mock him but she’s trembling and he tells her to shut up before grabbing his backpack and tossing it across the yard. Her fingers are weakly clutching his jacket. Maybe it’s about time he gave it to her because this might be a mental prison of some sort, but the sensations accompanying every action are very real. “I got scared. I couldn’t breathe. I don’t want us to be here.” Her lips are pursed and slowly pries her hands from his arm so he can take off his jacket.
“I’ll get us out.” He drapes it over her shoulders and she looks up at him, asking if he’ll do it her way. His lips purse. He still sees no sense in that. “Crack the ability by discovering why you’re here?” She nods and swears there’s a connection before asking if Stand abilities have ultimatums. He shakes his head. “They’re usually fit for combat. I haven’t seen such a Stand before,” he concedes with a lowered head. She scoots closer.
“And if there’s a way to get out without fighting it? It could be why I’m here.” He quirks a brow at the inquiry. Getting out without a fight seems too optimistic. And this isn’t supposed to be a puzzle.
“For conditions to be met?” She nods and her hair is wet. She tugs the jacket’s collar so it envelops her back better. It’s too big for her. She’s still shivering when, a minute of silence later, she asks if he has a Stand. “His name’s Star Platinum.” There’s a chance they won’t remember this after they get out.
“And you’ve fought Stands before?” She looks up at him. Her eyes are big and they twinkle in the sunlight. His lips purse as he remembers Egypt.
“I’ve killed their users, too. When a Stand dies, so does the user.” She doesn’t nod but he sees the fleeting shadow of horror on her face. He doesn’t want to scare her but she’s the one asking the questions. Of course, he can choose not to answer them. He doesn’t know why her presence predisposes him to honesty. He’s talkative around her. It’s weird.
“But if this Stand user’s goal is to kill you, he should’ve managed when… you know.” Her brows furrow and she puts a hand to her chin. The jacket slips off her shoulder. He reaches over and adjusts it. “And if the point of this is to restart when either of us dies, its goal lies in another course of action altogether. And maybe that’s why I’m here as an ingredient.” Her theory is as adamant as she is. But if her speculation is true, that means he either has to find the Stand or figure out the conditions he has to meet to get them out.
“What’s the course of action we need to take then?” He knows she’s smart. He respects her because she’s smart. She knows when to talk and when to think. Knows when to act and when to observe. Her intelligence has fascinated him since long before. But she only shakes her head now and says she hasn’t gotten that far. Silence settles again. He thinks about the conditions and the position of the Stand. He thinks about how he can move and act without leaving her alone or putting her in danger.
“Why have you fought Stands before?” She’s curious and he says it’s a long story. Quietly, he admits his mother was in danger. “How long ago was that?” She’s looking up at him and he snorts. He doesn’t like to think about it. When he thinks about it, he remembers Kakyoin. They could’ve studied here together.
“Three years.” And he got over it and kept going but he has so many nightmares it’s unbearable sometimes. He sees the pity slowly crawl over (Y/N)’s features. It makes her nose scrunch a bit at the bridge. Two wrinkles. They’re three when she’s disgusted. And two between the brows when she’s concentrating in class. “Why did you ask for my notes in our first year?” He doesn’t know why he asks it. She snorts and smiles.
“You were so antisocial I wanted to be your friend. You also seemed grumpy all the time. I didn’t actually need them but they were nice. You’re really diligent, Kujo.” The compliment makes him click his tongue before he says that’s not enough to cover up the fact she just called him antisocial. And the pity if there again for a second. “I get it now. So why did you give me your notes?” She asks in return and he rolls his eyes.
“Because I’m not a jerk.” She keeps staring like there’s another reason. He remembers it like it was yesterday – she stopped him after class and roped him into a roundabout introduction before begging for his notes. And he caught her lying because he learned later that the corner of her mouth twitches when she lies. She lied that she didn’t know his name. “Your smile was nice.” He can’t believe the nonsense he’s spilling but she only chuckles.
“Not anymore?” He doesn’t say anything when she teases him but he can deny it. Her smile is still very pretty. “You know, Kujo, that time you asked my favourite colour.” They were having lunch. She asked his. And then she lied that she didn’t know her own but he didn’t press. Now her smile didn’t twitch. “It’s actually your eyes. If it weren’t for the muscles and the dark and mysterious aura, you’d have fangirls because of them.” He scowled at the mention of fangirls and she snickered. “What? You don’t enjoy your fangirls?”
“No.” He hates them, in fact. Because he’s here to study, not to be surrounded by hordes of obnoxious girls. She is the only girl whose presence he can tolerate. It might have something to do with the smile.
“And if I was a fangirl? You’d be insulting me.” But he immediately says she’s not, to which she nudges him with her elbow. “True. My approach is way calmer. And better. Staying quietly in the periphery actually brings me a lot closer.” In order to prove it, she scoots closer. Her shoulder presses against his arm and he decides to leave it be. Then she jumps up. “Wait for a second, that’s it!”
“Stay down.” He grabs her wrist and tries to pull her down but she fights and turns to face him. She’s standing in front of him and their heights are levelled like this. He can see her eyes flicker excitedly as she tugs – not to free her wrist from his hold but to drag him along.
“No, it’s fine. We need to go. Inside, right now.” He says her name when she attempts to rush off towards the building and his fingers clutch her wrist harder. He can’t let her be harmed again. “Hear me out, Kujo. You said the Stand at least has to be here to monitor us, right?” She talks the same way when she’s cracked the code to a nasty question they’ve been asked in class. “And we don’t get harmed unless we step away from the fountain or come in contact with anything that can be used as a weapon. This means the Stand is watching us from the periphery – from a place that lets it analyse which objects it can use on us. I doubt it can see through walls.”
“So the building is a safe place,” he finishes her thought and she grins.
“Exactly. And it kept me from going inside the first time because the door was all it could see.” It sounds logical. It sounds too logical and it also sounds like a weakness they can use to their advantage. He can’t leave her alone so he’ll take her along. He stands and her wrist wriggles in his hold. He lets go and follows her towards the entrance. What’s the only place that allows a perfect view of the fountain?
“It’s on the roof.” His eyes dart upwards. They’re closing in on the door when he sees the railing on the steps leading to the entrance rip itself from the concrete and bend in her direction. He acts quickly but not wisely. He pushes her out of the way but he’s the one who suffers for it. A scream gets stuck at the back of her throat. The door comes undone and pierces him.
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So, I gotta tell you that love is all about sacrifice. That happening down there is no sacrifice to me. I mean, love is about sacrificing others, not yourself. Love is about power, too. My old man liked to sacrifice others and my momma was powerful – they had love right there, somewhere between the bottles and the weird balloons. Whatever happens, Jotaro the disrespecter can’t love. Not really. Maybe his own mom, sure, but like – a piece of work like the collateral damage? Yeah, no way. I’m confident about that. Like I’m confident about a lot of other stuff.
Like when Pichit was about to break his leg on the rollercoaster or when Don lost his shoes and I told him the racoon got them. They don’t believe shit, those friends of mine. But it’s fine because we have our bromance and sometimes, we trust each other. Like they trust me with this favour and I trust they’ll wash my suit after it’s done. Loverboy, I gotta tell you, has real good eyes. Like an eagle. And sure, he needs a spot to watch from but I always pick a good spot for him. He’s my best friend because, you know, he’s me in a way. We both got good style. We love a lot and we hate people who can’t love. Strongest bond ever.
I think I got him when I was sixteen or something of the sort. Could’ve been seventeen. But he was no scary thing to me. Actually, he was my buddy right off the bat. Took me a while to figure out what he does but, hey, every friendship needs time to blossom. Kind of like when you’re getting to know a girl and she can make a cartwheel but she also wears flip-flops often. You gotta measure the sacrifice. Do I love the cartwheel or hate the flip-flops? But Loverboy and I got no such problems. We’re a good team and we’re strong in our own way. My momma used to say a friend’s there for you through thick and thin. No kidding. And that---
Ah, shit. Why do I have to waste so much time preventing stuff? I don’t fail so we got that. But seriously – why’s she protecting Jotaro now? Welp, here goes the sharp fence. I didn’t pick the fountain as a starting point for nothing. I can do this all day and they can’t stop it. Can’t figure it out anyway. What, like they’re geniuses? And I’m told Jotaro likes to work alone so there ain’t no chance in hell he’s going to warm up to teamwork, much less feelings besides frustration and helplessness when he’s in danger. He don’t give half a fuck for my collateral damage, dragging her along or not. If he leaves her alone, I shoot my shot. I don’t miss so that’s that.
Oh, how cute, he’s giving her his jacket. If it was me, I would’ve straight-up told her to take off her clothes. But the disrespecter’s not experienced or interested enough in true love tactics. Which proves to me I’ll be out of here and on my way in about… a second. It’s always a second anyway. Less sometimes. I’m good at mind games and not so much at calculation. But this don’t take no calculation. It takes patience. I got more of that than them. More love, too. Oh, here goes again. Let’s do the window this time. Haha. Quick, easy and fun. I’m having so much fun. What’s that? Oh. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
They’re inside. Shit. I won’t be telling Pichit this part. If he asks, they never got away from the fountain. If you try to tell, well, who’s he gonna believe? You or me? Yeah, I thought so, too. Now I need to do some legwork. If you’ll excuse me.
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“I think we’ll be fine here for a while.” He watches her slump against the whiteboard in the classroom on the second floor with a sigh. Water is dripping from her clothes and she grabs a marker from the professor’s desk. “Let’s get down to thinking. This is either a time capsule, an isolated loop or whatever. And we’re here. What do we have in common?” She’s writing on the whiteboard and he’s leaning against the first row where she usually sits.
“Our major,” he joins in the speculations reluctantly, making her shake her head. She writes down their names next to each other and hums.
“I’m thinking more character-wise. It’s a bit like a grumpy-sunshine trope.” He clearly doesn’t understand it and she clearly doesn’t want to explain. She draws a small raincloud next to his name and a small sun next to her own. He scoffs. “So, we’re opposites more often than not. We interact often. But why today?” He instantly says they can’t be sure whether the Stand user chose today purposefully or just activated his Stand the moment he got here. “The fountain’s a good spot he shouldn’t have known about, though. Visitors aren’t allowed on campus so he’s either sneaked in or is part of the student body.” For some reason, Jotaro doubts the latter. He would notice a Stand user in the student body.
“You’re saying he’s inspected the place?” He asks with a frown and she points out the fountain is a perfect starting point that can be guarded at all times from the roof. He admits it is. This has taken some research at least. The Stand user would have to familiarise himself with the place. Which means Jotaro has gotten too rusty from living normally to notice his presence.
“Again.” She taps the marker against their names and draws his attention back to the board. “We’re opposites. What do we make of that?” He makes nothing of it because the Stand user’s goal is to get rid of him. By all means, it’s the only thing he can aim to achieve.
“Nothing. It’s a useless train of thought.” Jotaro snorts in a gruff voice and she tucks her wet hair behind her ear and frowns in disagreement.
“And I think it’s useful.” The moment she argues is the moment a stiff realisation crosses her features. It’s a fleeting instant and then the words drop from her mouth. “Opposites attract.” Jotaro knows that’s the law of magnets. So what of it in this case? She grows frantic the more she explains: “If this is about opposite-sex isolation, it could’ve been any fangirl of yours. You even had one close by. The difference is… you don’t like them.” She’s written down their sex and squints at the board before looking at him. “Have you heard about the experiments where they put a man and a woman in a dangerous simulation and observe the spike of their behavioural changes?”
“No, and I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.” He truly doesn’t. She can’t just weave a Stand ability out of thin air and unsupported speculations. Abilities in Stands are fit for battle, too – not social experiments. They usually differ according to their owner’s character, temperament and ideology but the main rule stands – they’re meant for combat.
“Could be nothing or everything. This Stand’s ability reminds me a lot of that. A man and a woman are in an isolated space with their adrenaline constantly being stimulated. In situations like these, the couple tends to bond way quicker.” She’s blabbering and he crosses his arms, watching her sceptically.
“You’re not saying this Stand is based on a social experiment meant to simulate love.” It’s audible how much he truly doesn’t believe in her theory.
“Stimulate, not just simulate,” she corrects with a huff. “Pairs who underwent the experiment had a spike in compatibility and are often recorded as dating in the aftermath even when they went into it as strangers.” He can feel she’s lost the point of this. They’re talking about experiments that have nothing to do with their predicament and the Stand is probably looking for them. The building has five floors. How long would it take for it to catch up to their location? Jotaro suspects another five minutes at best. Two if she keeps being this loud.
“So the point is to fall in love and we’ll get out of here.” He glares when she smiles in approval. “Can you hear how ridiculous that sounds? And even if it’s true, how would the Stand user know how we interact? And wouldn’t he rather put me in with somebody I hated and had no chance at all of becoming fond of?” He might’ve accidentally indicated he prefers her to any other girl he could’ve ended up with but she goes along with it, like she hasn’t considered anything else.
“Think about it, though. That might’ve been his exact thought. He won’t put you with any of your fangirls because they like you already and they show it a lot. Maybe he doesn’t know you so he’s just watched you and based on observation – I’m the only girl who appears to be disinterested.” She indirectly hints at something, too. He’s not dumb enough to miss it.
“Appears?” He echoes and the pointed intonation makes her lips purse as she considers what to say. She puts the market back on the professor’s desk and looks into his eyes. The green mingles with a bright baby blue and creates the perfect turquoise shade. She gulps.
“Sure. If he’s had a limited observational period – two weeks or something to pick me out, he would’ve seen that we barely talk and I don’t swoon when I see you.” And Jotaro instantly defends that it’s exam season and they’re busy, which just makes her nod along. “Exactly. He might not know that. It might just be a miscalculation on his end. This is good.” She seems almost excited to announce it. He huffs and pushes himself off the desk. He thinks he can hear something.
“You’re trying to convince me the point of this loop is to fall in love. It’s ridiculous,” he states once he’s positioned right across the door. He’s standing between it and her while she asks what else he can think of. The answer’s immediate: “That we’ve given the Stand enough time to sniff us out.” And when he puts a protective hand to tell her to stand back, her eyes widen. Maybe she can hear the steps, too.
“I love you.” But his eyes are pinned to the door and she’s tugging on his jacket. “Say it back.” Her fingers tremble and her voice wavers. He won’t be saying it because even if that’s the point, nothing will happen if it’s just words prompted by survival instincts. Then both of them can hear the windows behind her vibrate.
He turns around and cradles her head to his chest just as the glass explodes. She screams. Such a fucking cowardly Stand – can’t even use its own strength to overpower him. Glass shards are piercing his face. Blood drips on her hair. He has to lure him out and fight him. Star Platinum is on edge, waiting for guidance.
“Just say it!”
But he doesn’t have the time to part his lips when the door slams open. His vision is impaired – one of his eyes is positively blind and the other is full of blood. He feels her wrestle out of his hold and she can’t see Star Platinum but she stands in the way. It’s then he realises it might not be wise to let his Stand be harmed. But he doesn’t want her to be harmed either. He blindly reaches for her in an attempt to tug her back. Her arm’s in his hold and it’s too late. Through a red veil, he can see the blurry shape of a tall pink figure with flaming hair. And when her body falls back in his arms, the hole in her chest is visible. His heart flinches inside his chest. Star Platinum’s unharmed.
And then they're back at the fountain. In an instant, he turns around and his feet splash inside the water, glued to the stone under as his arms extend to he can hold her shoulders. Same exact time, she’s crawling closer to the edge with her fingers hastily reaching for his face. Horror is coursing through their veins and they think one and the same thing when their eyes meet: You’re fine. The relief is grand and visible, almost tangible in the air. No words are spoken as he draws her closer and she complies until she’s on her knees and her arms just barely envelop his back, fingers desperately clutching his jacket. His digits tangle in her hair. His free hand is splayed over her back, between the shoulder blades where the hole was.
“You were scared,” she mocks in a weak voice, face buried in his chest as he exhales, nose burrowed in her wet hair.
“Shut up.” The command makes her chuckle. He was scared shitless. He’s angry, too. Then she parts from him and her hands are damp as they cup his jaw. She slowly rises to her feet and he looks up. Her thumbs rub against his skin and when their eyes meet, there’s the rage of a thousand suns in her hues. He likes the sight of it. He hasn’t seen this side of her before.
“Let’s smash this guy’s face in.” She sounds deadly serious and he agrees. His fingers slowly wrap around her wrists and he stands up, head slowly turning towards the roof. Now they know where the Stand is. He’ll take her along and Star Platinum will be her bodyguard in case the fucking coward tries to pull another trick. If this is a mental space, Jotaro might be allowed the pleasure of beating up the Stand on his own.
When they step out of the fountain and kick their backpacks in the opposite direction, the fence acts up. It bends and its foundations tear the ground apart in their attempt to shoot in their direction. The attack is spoiled when Star Platinum prevents contact. And (Y/N) gapes at the fence suspended in the air, then he nudges Jotaro’s side and hums.
“I’m assuming I can’t see your Stand but is he, like, strong enough to rip out one of the sharp edges from the fence for me?” And before Jotaro can tell her that’s unneeded, Star Platinum does exactly as he’s told. She blinks at the fence that seems to be breaking on its own. Jotaro glares at his Stand. “I just think I need a way to defend myself. I took one year of fencing in high school.” And the rest of the fence drops to the ground but one metal rod with a sharp tip hangs in the air in front of her. She takes it from Star Platinum with her smile blindly aimed up. “Thank you very much, Star. He can hear me, right?” She glances at Jotaro, who only scowls.
“Right. And he’s being way too complaisant.” She chuckles at the sour note in his voice.
“You are, technically. A manifestation of your soul and will, if I remember correctly.” Her smile is bright and teasing, and he snorts.
When they head towards the door, a few stones try to create trouble. They evade the railing with no casualties and Star Platinum wrecks the door before it can collapse. Once they’re inside, the danger is gone. Jotaro’s walking ahead and she’s in the middle with Star Platinum behind her.
When they get to the stairs leading to the rooftop, the group stops and exchanges looks. They’re quietly ascending the stairs, Jotaro’s the one who breaks the lock on the door to the roof and (Y/N) clutches her weapon a bit tighter. He’ll make sure she doesn’t need to use it. When he slams the door open, the Stand is caught off guard. Instead of fighting, it adheres to its cowardly ways. Only Jotaro can see it.
He gives chase and she’s behind him, following even when she can’t see their target. The Stand is cornered easily and, what’s more, when it tries to use its ability to make a random inanimate object attack them, both attempts are foiled. It’s probably weird for (Y/N) to sit still, unaware that Star Platinum is beating up the other Stand while Jotaro observes.
One of the punches seems to hit the switch.
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God, this hurts. My momma didn’t teach me enough to deal with pain. And what’s this unfairness? The bad guy isn’t supposed to win. I’m not supposed to fail. I can’t fail. This favour’s supposed to be quick, easy and fun. I love it when things are quick, easy and fun. My jaw might be broken. And my ribs. I can barely move. Fuck, I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This wasn’t planned. This can’t be happening. The bad guy can’t win.
And what if I was told not to underestimate him? I didn’t. It was all perfect. So why was he working with my pretty collateral damage? He’s not supposed to work in a team. They’re not supposed to get out before they off themselves. Fuck. I have to run. I have to run far and Pichit has to wash my suit and pay for the goddamn hospital bill. I ain’t taking any jobs after this. I don’t care about the followers or the favours. Fuck my friends, they didn’t even warn me this could happen.
Ah, I just want to go back to my flat with Loverboy and order take-out. I want shiitake mushrooms and shrimp. My momma used to make them tasty. Fuck.
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Everything is loud and bright. Birds are chirping and a fly is buzzing by the top of the fountain. The noises are everywhere – so many people talking at once it’s almost deafening at first. Jotaro is blinking at the water splashing around inside the fountain. There seems to be a small rainbow where the sun hits the miniature drizzle just right. (Y/N) is inside, wet from head to toe and staring up at him with parted lips and wondrous eyes.
Both of them are overwhelmed by the noise and the colours and the people. Some are having lunch, others are talking in small groups, walking around, crossing the yard, standing still, laughing, joking, and complaining. Voices and people everywhere. Even the girl who pushed (Y/N) into the fountain is still at Jotaro’s side, looking down at them with a scowl.
Everything went back to the instant they were transported by the Stand’s ability.
Jotaro gets the very intense urge to get in the fountain and hug her. She, in turn, is struggling with her own wish to jump and tackle him to the ground in front of everybody. Instead, she grins up at him and he offers her a hand. This time, she takes it. His fangirl doesn’t enjoy the sight. He couldn’t care less but she obviously has a vengeful side to her because once she’s standing to her feet, at least three people are looking at her wet form and Jotaro helps her jump out of the fountain, she slowly lets go of his hand and aims a big smile at the fangirl.
“Thank you for this, Hori. I’m indebted to you and I like how my hair looks when it’s wet. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, okay?” The girl blinks at her, utterly stupefied and just a bit disturbed. (Y/N) turns to Jotaro and smiles at him, too. “Now, should we go?” He sighs and they hold onto their backpacks while rounding the fountain. Jotaro knows they’re heading to the rooftop.
“You didn’t make a scene,” he remarks on their way into the building. She’s just a bit wary of the door. Her shoes squeak down the hallway and people are staring at her weirdly. She’s not used to it because she forgets her appearance is supposed to inspire confusion.
“You’re taking me out on a date later, Kujo. She deserves gratitude.” The quip makes the dark-haired male glance down at her doubtfully. He has to admit maybe he doesn’t mind the idea of taking her out on a date. Most of all when it would’ve taken him way longer to get out if he’d been on his own. Still, he’s just a bit surprised at how well she’s taking this – mostly the aftermath that might’ve left her scarred. He hands her his jacket and she drapes it over her shoulders. “Thanks. How about you don’t kill the guy? I want to ask him about my theory.”
“You look quite unaffected by the experience, (L/N).” The remark makes her lips purse. Even if the death wasn’t real, the sensations were quite on point. He glimpses momentary discomfort on her face before she lets out an airy chuckle.
“I think we’re close enough to use first names at this point. And also, I might be a bit more adaptable than I thought.” In spite of that, Jotaro stays mad at the stupid fuck who intervened in their normal lives. She would’ve been better off not living this. They’re climbing the stairs and the lock on the rooftop door is already broken when they arrive. Jotaro opens the door and expects a fearsome enemy’s attack. He’s not prepared for the disfigured bleeding mess on the floor. Next to him, (Y/N)’s eyes widen in fright and her nose scrunches up. Three wrinkles for disgust.
“G-Get away from me!” The guy draws back in horror, splayed on the ground and trying to crawl back. He has two pink tresses in his blond hair. “F-fucking psychos! How did you---“
“Let me stop you right there,” (Y/N) says, stepping forward and glaring down at his bloody face. As far as Jotaro can see, he’s got a broken nose, a split brow and two busted teeth. His ribs are probably cracked. “We’ll walk you out of the university premises and you won’t come back ever. But before that, I want to ask you about your Stand’s ability. It’s a mental space, right?” The guy blinks at her.
“A loop, yea. B-But you’re fucking crazy and I don’t have to answer any questions.” His voice comes out wheezy and squeaky. He’s shaking in fear. Jotaro quirks a brow at his defiant behaviour and (Y/N) glances at the dark look on his face.
“I think you’ll prefer it to the other option.” She’s not smiling but her voice is upbeat and placid. “Now, since it’s a loop in a mental space, was there a way for us to get out without beating your Stand?” She isn’t nearly as disturbed by the sight of the beaten-up man. Jotaro thinks this much is enough although he wouldn’t be against some more. An additional punch or two just to be safe. The guy spits out a spiteful spoonful of blood and snorts.
“Yeah, the disrespecter here had to give up on shit a-and off himself because you’re not compatible at all and---“
“So we had to fall in love or kill ourselves?” She cuts off with wide eyes, making Jotaro’s lips purse. The guy at their feet growls in outrage and points up at the dark-haired Stand user.
“T-That’s the whole point! He can’t love shit and you’re the perfect collateral damage because you barely talk to him!” His words would have made sense if it weren’t for her theory. She’s grinning and her hands are on her hips when she tips her chin proudly and looks up at Jotaro, who only averts his gaze in spiteful defeat. He shouldn’t have let her come along. She could’ve gone through life without the knowledge she was right.
“I told you! I was right the whole time!” Her finger jabs into his biceps and she tugs on the jacket around her shoulders while clearing her throat and looking down at the guy again. He’s staring at her like she’s crazy. He probably thinks they’ll kill him or something. “I figured it out. Without the part about killing ourselves. It’s a smart move but… we actually like each other, I think.” She gestures at them and the guy’s face contorts in utter disbelief. Jotaro clicks his tongue at the pathetic sight.
“So thanks for the date.” His deep voice makes (Y/N) grin.
“Y-You weren’t supposed to… Y-You can’t possibly, I watched you! You hate everybody! A-And---“
“Let’s get you out of here, huh? You’re pretty shaken up.” She crouches in front of the guy and he doesn’t dare strike her for fear Jotaro will act faster. They force him to his feet and he’s shaking like a leaf. Jotaro’s the one who has to support him on their way down the stairs. “Do you have a car or should we call an ambulance?” But he’s nearly catatonic because of the shock and doesn’t answer. “I didn’t think you’d beat the sense out of him, Jotaro.” She shoots Jotaro a look of reproach and he huffs. 
“Let’s just walk him out and leave him outside.” Less than three minutes, they’re sneaking out of the side door leading to the parking lot. She’s wet from head to toe and they’re helping a bleeding man limp between the cars. When they reach the side entrance, Jotaro lets the Stand user slump down to the ground against the fence and glares at him. (Y/N)’s the one who crouches down, grips his nose and harshly pushes to the left. The guy screams and bites down on his tongue.
“I hope it hurt like a bitch. That’s for the long-term paranoia I’ll have around doors. And for making me see the guy I like being in pain.” Jotaro’s eyes widen at the action and her words, and then she stands to her feet, leaving the Stand user to whimper in pain while she heads back to the building. “Do you have anything to say to me about my theory?” She teases when Jotaro opens the door for her.
“It’s a bullcrap ability that wasn’t supposed to exist at all,” he states with a huff. She smiles and says it’s enough that he’s a bit spiteful in his rejection, then complains that she needs dry clothes to attend her next class. He hums and he knows it’s out of character when he suggests: “We can skip.”
“I didn’t think you were a bad boy, Jotaro.” She smirks and he clicks his tongue. “We do deserve rest after this. Might’ve been less than a second in reality but all the stress drained me. Are you hungry?” But both of them know neither had time to enjoy lunch and the experience messed with their heads in terms of orientation through time. He nods and she’s very transparent in her offer. “Come over so I can change and maybe I can cook for us.”
“Traditional?” He questions with a quirked brow and suggests omelettes and miso soup. He’s on board. And when they’re heading for the main entrance, she asks if he thinks the guy will try to attack him again. He sees the uncertainty on her face and shakes his head. “His Stand is the most cowardly thing I’ve seen. He wasn’t much better. He won’t risk it.”
“It’s weird how he accidentally picked the right people,” she muses with a hum. “He was so shocked we worked together, too. Do others think we don’t get along, too?” He thinks whoever even cares enough to be acquainted with them is pretty much aware they’re on good terms. And some – the ones she calls his fangirls – might even be suspicious regarding more. She wouldn’t be getting pushed into fountains otherwise even though Jotaro is greatly annoyed by the fact girls have turned pursuing him into a competition with him as the prize.
“Do you care about that?” He glances down at her and sees her tug his jacket and burrow her nose in the collar with a thoughtful hum. She’s cute sometimes.
“Depends. Maybe not.” So he thinks the conversation is done for the time being. Less than a minute late, she asks: “Hey, Jotaro, that one time we got to the classroom – would it have worked if you’d said it?” He knows exactly what she means and his blood runs cold in nervousness at the mention. Seeing as he refuses to answer, she nudges his arm with her elbow. He won’t say it. “Oh, come on, we survived a shitload together, you can tell me that at least.” Her eyes are twinkling up at him pleadingly.
“We’ll never know,” he concludes in a gruff voice. He’s scowling when she says she can just get the guy to activate his Stand’s ability again and have them test her theory. But there will be no need for that. “I’ll just beat him up again.” He’s glaring, tipping his hat lower, and she laughs. It’s a nice sound.
“You’re red, Jotaro.” She’s annoying. Annoyingly smart, too. His face is red, she’s smiling knowingly and she’s pretty even when she’s annoying. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. It would’ve worked.
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