Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In short:

This is a work written as part of a collab with Dusigrosz, set in the JoJo's Bizarre Adventure universe. It tells the story of a school rivalry for a place in the student council between Diavolo from part 5 and Funny Valentine from part 7. In addition to the two evil guys, there are also other characters from each part of JoJo.  

Beta: Dusigrosz

1. The work is a school AU. 

2. There are some spoilers but I think that if someone doesn't know them, they won't even know they're spoilers. 

3. This work is also available in Polish version under the same nickname here, on Wattpad and in time on Tumblr.

A little more about the work:

Linkemon

Who would have thought that it would take so long before Dusigrosz and I would write something together? Encouraged by the last collab with Agusia, I decided that a kind of repetition of entertainment could help us both get ready to write. It worked to some extent, so I think it was time well spent.

I like the Jojo universe. However, the magic spinnig wheel chose the characters so well (there were many of them) that I considered it a challenge, especially since it was originally supposed to be a fairy tale atmosphere, which we gave up on, and I think it worked out well for us. The school is a tad closer to the JoJo atmosphere. I got really into the whole story. Two sons of bitches but each of a different kind. One a cold politician, deceiving people and the other a bit more impulsive, ruling through fear and not hiding it. Diavolo's presence allowed us to do one of the fan-favourite tricks at the end of the work (if you know, you know...).

I basically just had fun. Even if sometimes I felt like I was rambling on about bullshit, for which I apologize. I'll let the other side speak.

Dusigrosz

The work was intended from the beginning to be primarily a writing exercise, not something more elaborate or serious. Despite this, I think that, given the chosen form, it is a quite digestible piece of cool story. It will of course be most appreciated by Jojo fans, whom I encourage to have fun catching all the tidbits, references and guest appearances (some very fresh :P). Julia and I gave each other a lot of freedom while writing, in fact we mainly worked on the principle of: "Okay, now you write your part and I'll see what I can do later". The spontaneous nature of the text also results from this approach. This work is primarily fun, which is why I suggest reading it with this in mind.

Writing from Diavolo's perspective was quite an interesting and fresh experience. My characters aren't usually that unpleasant but I was surprised at how well I fit into our rude and ruthless gang. I also didn't expect to devote so much space to the secondary characters, who in the original series I didn't give a damn about but here they fit so well that it would be stupid not to use them.  

Oh, but that last sentence isn't about Jobin. I love Jobin and would put him in that work at any cost.

Chapter Text

— You know what, Doppio? Sometimes it just pisses me off.  

Vinegar Doppio didn't know "what". But he knew his friend well enough to guess that he was about to be treated to a nervous, chaotic tirade, which, from an objective point of view, would have some logic, but would concern things that no one needed to analyze so ruthlessly.  

— Hmm? — he said, already sighing inwardly.  

Ghiaccio was just waiting for this because he started up as if by pressing a button.  

— Platypuses! — He waved his hands. — You have no idea how much platypuses piss me off. People seriously accept them? Does a truly sane person look at this ABOMINATION and say: "Oh, yeah, I don't see the problem?!".

— They're... cute? — Doppio said cautiously. — Pepe was adorable..

— Adorable?! Which part? A bird's BEAK? A mammal's BODY? A reptilian PAW? Or a TAIL, which looks so STUPID no other animal has one like it?!

Doppio looked around with a miserable expression, making sure no one was listening. The park near Heaven's High wasn't particularly crowded at this hour. The fact that technically, classes already started and they were skipping school had something to do with it. But that was probably too strong of a word... You couldn't blame the two teenagers for wanting to treat themselves to a bit of sun on a beautiful September morning (perhaps one of the last warm ones this year), and in Doppio's case, also to eat some homemade cacio e pepe in peace, which should have lasted him until the end of the day but he felt like eating it now. Besides, they weren't missing anything important. Professor Speedwagon was so old that he probably wouldn't even notice their absence. Besides, he almost never said anything sensible during homeroom.

— Platypuses were officially classified in 1799. — Ghiaccio also rarely said anything sensible but in a slightly different sense. — But they were discovered a year earlier. Do you know why? Because the scientists at the Royal Society thought someone was kidding them! None of them could believe that such an IDIOTIC animal could actually exist!  

Doppio nodded resignedly, rolling another portion of pasta from the box onto his fork.

He was friends with Ghiaccio because, like him, he was Italian and a weirdo. That was the end of their commonalities but when you're new, in a foreign country, in a foreign school, among strange people... you often cling to those first few real friends too much. And Ghiaccio, fortunately or unfortunately, was just that kind of friend. It was probably thanks to him that Doppio had endured the first few weeks, when absolutely everything at school was strange, scary and overwhelming. Except that over a year had passed since then. A lot had changed... but the buddy, for lack of a name, remained.  

— Did you know the bastards are poisonous? — Ghiaccio continued. — They've got these little teeth on their hind legs. Hind legs. A man has to want one to stab him with them. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! — the boy yelled. — THESE ANIMALS! ARE SO HANDICAPPED! THAT THEY CAN'T! EVEN! HAVE! THEIR MOST IMPORTANT DEFENSE MECHANISM! IN A PLACE! WHERE IT'S EASY TO USE!

Doppio, however, did not listen to him and, although it may seem surprising, it was not even because he had gone deaf.  

At that very moment, an exceptionally strong gust of still warm wind, though bringing the promise of autumn, blew. And that gust placed a slightly crumpled, slightly wet from the grass leaflet on their desk. Doppio recognized the format — it was the kind the school government sometimes distributed. Usually they concerned more important events in the life of the school. He didn't recognize this particular one, which suggested that it was a recent matter. He glanced over it... And then a second time, and a third time.  

— And you know what's most... Hey, are you listening to me?  

Doppio looked at his friend and blinked in confusion. He had forgotten that he wasn't alone here.  

— I have to call someone — he said, more to himself. It seemed to him... No, he was certain, HE would be interested.  

He reached into his pocket but found only a crumpled tissue and a rubber band. A shiver of panic ran through him, typical of any teenager who had just realized they had lost their phone. He thought back a bit. He always carried his phone in his pants pocket. He had no doubt about that but it was possible that he had gotten them a little dirty with tomato sauce yesterday… Then he put the pants on the chair and took a new one from the closet, forgetting to move the contents of the pockets as well.  

He looked at Ghiaccio, who was already clearly very worried because he stopped talking.  

— I'm borrowing it. — He reached for the boy's phone lying on the bench.  

— Er…— Ghiaccio seemed to want to protest but couldn’t find the right words.  

— I'll give it back in a moment. I'll give you a bite of pasta.  

Diavolo answered almost immediately. Doppio swallowed hard. The Boss, as he liked to call him, had told him many times that he trusted him the most out of the entire school and that he was important to him (when he was in a better mood, he used the word "priceless"). However, it didn't change the fact that Doppio was still stressed by every such conversation. The Boss didn't like to draw attention to himself but the few stories he had heard about him filled him with natural respect.  

— What is it?  

— Did you know the student council is holding elections for chairman? I-I mean — he stammered — I'm sure you do but... this... I think it's an announcement from today and I thought... you know... you might be interested.

There was silence on the other end for a while.  

— Do you think I would like to be the president of this hopeless mess?   

— N-no! Of course... I mean... Yes! Yes, because...— Doppio took a deep breath — because I know there's no one else better for the job, boss!

Silence. That unbearable silence again.  

— I mean… No, of course! I understand you. Of course. You don't care about such nonsense. Sorry to bother you…  

— Thank you for the information, Doppio. — That was the end of the conversation.  

Ghiaccio answered his phone with a strange expression on his face.  

— Is everything okay? — he finally ventured to ask.  

— Ugh... Yeah. Yeah, definitely. — Doppio's head was still spinning a bit. — You know what? I think I'll go for a walk. I'm kind of... My legs are stiff. — As he was leaving, he turned around to glance at the abandoned pasta. — Ah... You know what, I'm not hungry. You can have the whole thing.

And he left.  

Ghiaccio stared blankly for a while at the corner of the school building around which he had disappeared. Finally he shrugged. He had long since learned not to be surprised by anything.  

He put the recovered banana back in his lunchbox and smiled to himself. Macaroni and cheese for a second breakfast sounded so much better.  

***

Funny took one last look at his immaculately ironed pink blazer. Thankfully, it hadn't gotten wrinkled during the train ride. The cumbersome mode of transportation irritated him every day but there was nothing he could do about it. It was the only way he could get to school.

The boy cast a long glance at his reflection in the mirror. The inside of his school locker, between the white, red and blue flags, revealed the golden curls he had carefully arranged on his head that morning. Everything today had to be perfect. Ideal. Flawless.  

He slowly made his way through the corridor. Suddenly, he felt a blow to his side. A group of girls almost ran him over, stopping at the last moment.  

— JoJo! — one of them squealed in a piercingly high voice.

It didn't take Valentine more than that to guess who would soon emerge from around the corner. The face hidden under the cap and the sounds of the fangirls gave away the presence of Jōtarō Kūjō  

— Get out — a low, deep voice replied. — Yare, yare daze. — The teenager struggled through the crowd.  

Funny just shook his head. A group of girls wouldn't really serve his purposes. For that, he needed Lucy.  

The girl was waiting for him by one of the lockers. Dressed as he had requested — in pink. He intended to present to all the students a perfect couple. One that could show unity even in a trivial matter. The dress Lucy had put on was undoubtedly from her ex-boyfriend. Perhaps it was some form of protest but he decided not to comment on it. He didn't think anyone but him would guess. Besides, they didn't have time to change.

Steven Steel wasn't a completely stupid man but he still didn't understand why the girl had broken up with him. If he found out that Valentine had threatened her, things would definitely get ugly. Not that that would ever happen. Funny always weighed his options carefully before putting his plans into action. Lucy cared so much about Steven's safety that she didn't dare say a word. That was how it would stay. At least not until he managed to pull off the whole plan.  

The teenager offered the girl his arm. Together they set off down the hallway. Many pairs of eyes followed them. He was fully aware of that. Everyone at Heaven's High lived for school gossip and he was the center of it, so to speak. He was aware that many people were waiting for him to stumble. After all, he was a role model, praised by teachers, parents, and the students themselves. He stood out both for his academic results and for taking part in practically every important event that took place at the school. It didn't matter whether it was organizing a race for the equestrian club or a simple advertisement for a course on how to properly fold napkins. He was there when he could. And now, as a candidate for the twenty-third president of the student council, he attracted more attention than usual. Ever since the first leaflets about the elections appeared, he had been considered a strong contender for victory. He wasn't going to deny it because everything indicated it. His position depended on the votes of the students and most of them supported him.  

This school needed two qualities — justice and freedom. He intended to introduce them. By any means available to him. The first and easiest way was to take power. Then a range of possibilities would open up before him. He didn't even entertain the thought of losing. At least not until yesterday, when he found out who else was going to run in the elections. The mere thought of potential defeat made him feel nauseous. He couldn't let that poor Diavolo take his place. He silently told himself to calm down. After all, who was he compared to him? He was almost never at school. Most people were absolutely convinced that he was skipping school and if someone really had to get to him, they usually did it through that idiot — Vinegar Doppio. A quiet kid who was always running around with his phone, who dragged one of the class nerds, Ghiaccio, behind him. Funny was sure that with such a bodyguard it would be hard to convince the electorate of his arguments. If they had any at all. Especially considering the shady rumors about Diavolo running a drug business after class.

— How are you? — The sight of Bruno was one of the more positive things that happened to the blonde that morning.  

The boy himself had come to him yesterday and announced that he would help him win the election. Of course, it smelled like a lie, but even if his intentions were impure, Valentine knew that he would certainly get something useful out of him when the time came.  

— Excellent — he replied, accepting the pen that was helpfully handed to him.  

Bucciarati, despite his past work under Diavolo, was not known for the level of brutality that was sometimes heard in the corners. Most referred to him as the Zipper King because of the company he inherited from his deceased parents, which manufactured, as the nickname suggested, zippers. Bruno was also sometimes heard being called Mamma. Probably because of his Italian roots and strong mothering tendencies towards his small class gang.  

— Where is that idiot Joseph? — Funny asked in a theatrical whisper.  

In the meantime, he began to sign his name with great force, so that everyone near the ballot box could see it.  

— He said he had something important to do. — Lucy gave her fake boyfriend a pointed look.

Joseph Joestar was an extremely odd student. He had a knack for getting out of any trouble. The stories of him escaping Professor Speedwagon's punishments were practically legendary. The same went for paying for the broken with a baseball bat windows. And the time he dressed up as a woman while drinking tequila and ruined the entire school ceremony in honour of the school's founders.  

For these reasons, he was considered a kind of symbol of great happiness and therefore victory in Heaven's High. Whoever had Joseph on their side could be sure of themselves. However, it was not that easy. He had a tendency to run away from any commitments he had made earlier. He even changed girls like gloves.  

Although Valentine had expected a similar turn of events, he felt a deep dissatisfaction. If only this idiot hadn't decided to join the competition.  

He took a deep breath. His actions were worth the stress. He had to keep reminding himself of that.  

— As you know, the traditions of Heaven's High date back to the time when the school's founder, Professor Jonathan Joestar, began his historical research on the stone mask that we can all admire here today. — He pointed to the wall. — His dedication to science, as well as his famous rivalry with his brother, Professor Dio, showed future generations the path of righteousness and wisdom that we should walk together. However, I believe that is not enough! — His words echoed in the hallway, which was becoming increasingly crowded. — This school needs justice, which is not always properly enforced. It also needs reasonable freedom and a departure from many established rules! As of this day, I am announcing my candidacy for the twenty-third president of the student council. — With that, he placed the ballot in the ballot box. — Walk down this path with me!

A storm of applause broke out. At first timid, and then, like a great wave, rolling down the corridor. Funny spotted Bruno's friends strategically placed in the crowd. The applauders effectively encouraged others to follow suit.  

That day, all he had to do was hang up campaign posters. They were sparing in words. He knew full well that too much text would put off readers. So he focused on images and a few key campaign promises.  

Today gave him an advantage right from the start.  

— What do you think, Diavolo? — Funny laughed under his breath, adjusting a lonely curl that fell across his forehead.   

***

Diavolo walked slowly down the middle of the hallway. He liked it when people had to move out of his way. It was a small, stupid satisfaction but it reminded him (and most of all the other students) who was in charge here. He preferred to be discreet, of course, but when he had to show himself, he made sure that one look was enough to decide that he wasn't worth messing with.  

That day, there was really only one thing that was spoiling his mood. The first time, he had tried to ignore it, but now he was passing the fourth sign covered in posters of a certain blond dude who had recently been getting on his nerves more and more.  

He stopped and stared at his rival’s over-coloured, thirty-copy face. The sight of it made him feel sick. He didn’t understand how anyone could seriously promote themselves with such trash. In the photo (which had been filtered so much that it looked like a drawing), Funny, in a smart pink blazer, imitated the pose of Uncle Sam, with a combative grimace and a pointed finger. American flags waved in the background and the whole thing was topped with a caption printed in a font meant to imitate old newspapers.

YOUR  vote  can decide the future of Heaven's High!

Funny Valentine

Tradition — Freedom — Justice

Vote on October 12 and join me in writing a new chapter in the school’s history.

— There’s something I don’t understand — Diavolo said.  

Cioccolata, who was following him, immediately understood what he was talking about.  

— You're absolutely right, boss. — He smiled disgustingly. — These posters weren't here this morning.  

The boy experimentally tore off one of Valentine's posters, revealing another poster. It was done in much better taste. Diavolo chose a dark photo in which he stood with his back turned and looked menacingly to the side. He was dressed unusually in a suit the colour of dark blood, which gave him the look of a mafia boss. He didn't bother with fancy slogans. In fact, there was very little text on the poster.

No one else does it better.

October 12. Choose well.

— That son of a bitch...— Diavolo gritted his teeth. He ripped all of Valentine's posters off the board, crumpled them into a ball and threw them into a nearby bin. It made him feel a little better, although he was aware that it had done almost nothing — those abominations were plastered all over the school.  

— I find it amusing — Cioccolata chuckled. — Does he really think he's on your level?

Diavolo glared at him. He hated suckers and knew the boy wasn't the least bit honest. He didn't care though. For what he did, he didn't need honest people, only loyal and effective ones. If they were also complete bastards... well, even better. Cioccolata was definitely the leader in that category. Diavolo wasn't sure if he even lived anywhere. The boy regularly broke into the biology room after classes and conducted some disgusting experiments there. Diavolo didn't care what kind but he noticed that he often had blood on his sleeves the next day. Cioccolata also always kept a rat named Secco in his pocket. The animal was emaciated, bald in places and covered in stitches. He had lived an impressively long life, which was one of the reasons why Diavolo sometimes feared him more than Cioccolata himself.  

The boy also had a "spare" key to the chemistry room. And he was devilishly talented when it came to cooking up various nasty things. He wasn't irreplaceable like Doppio but Diavolo had to reluctantly admit that without him, a lot of things would be much more difficult.  

— He can think whatever he wants. It's not up to him who wins. It's up to that... bunch of morons.  

Cioccolata ran to keep up with him.  

— Now that you brought it up... There were supposedly some preliminary polls in a few classes. Valentine beats you by a dozen or so percent.  

Diavolo shrugged.

— Preliminary polls are, by definition, preliminary and a lot will change in the next few days.  

There was no trace of nervousness in his voice. He couldn't allow himself to seem weak in front of his own people. He shouldn't feel this way, even in front of himself. And yet... Somewhere very, very deep down, a small seed of anxiety was beginning to sprout. He couldn't underestimate an opponent who was more charismatic and popular than he was, and on top of that, he could spout exactly the kind of platitudes the school community wanted to hear. Of course, his speeches reeked of bullshit from a mile away but not all students were intelligent enough to notice that. It was a known fact that idiots made up the majority of the population — whether on a macro or micro scale. Diavolo would never forgive himself if he lost to someone like that. That was why he had to take over as soon as possible. And unfortunately for his opponent, he always played dirty.

— I can’t wait. — Cioccolata grinned an impressively filthy grin. — So when do you want to start?

Almost at that same moment, Diavolo finally saw, out of the corner of his eye, something he had been looking for for some time.  

— Immediately.  

He made a sharp turn to the side and with the same, superior step entered the men's room. He knocked over a few students in the process. Well, they should be careful.  

The toilets at Heaven's High, as is usually the case in high schools, had a dual purpose. The intended one — to satisfy the call of nature — and the unofficial one — to satisfy spontaneous tobacco needs — or, to put it bluntly, to smoke. Despite the teachers' efforts, you could almost always find at least one delinquent indulging in nicotine ecstasies. Liquids dominated, of course, and it was much rarer to smell weed or traditional cigarettes. Fortunately, no one was probably stupid enough to parade their goods around the school. Or at least, no one was ever caught.  

Cioccolata caught up with him once again.  

— What...

Diavolo silenced him with a wave of his hand and pointed at the smoke rising from one of the cabins. The boy looked at him with understanding and nodded.  

The lock gave way after only two kicks. Tacky... Like almost everything in this school. The management saved money where they could. Nothing new.  

— What do you want?! — the short, thin man shouted in fright, brutally torn from his small, pathetic addiction. The electronic cigarette fell from his hand onto the floor. Diavolo deftly stomped on it with his shoe before the boy could bend down to pick it up. 

— To talk — he assured him — as friends, of course.

He grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and forced him to kneel in front of the toilet bowl. He had no chance of breaking free but he still struggled like a rabid squirrel.  

— Let me go! — he growled. — Leave me alone, do you understand? I won't do anything for you anymore!

— No loss — Diavolo replied carelessly. — You, Bruno, and the rest of your bunch of losers. Why would I regret losing the worst people I've ever had, hmm? You have to admit it doesn't make sense… Narancia.

Narancia responded by kicking him again, or at least trying to kick him in the ankle. Diavolo was finding this even more amusing.

— Right...— Ghirga gasped. — That doesn't make sense. Why can't you just leave us alone? Are you that upset about us? Can't you just accept it?

— Cioccolata. — Diavolo nodded, then pressed the boy’s neck a little lower so that his head was inside the shell.  

After a refreshing shower, he returned him to his previous position and moved a little closer to his ear to make sure he understood.  

— I don't give a damn about you. This isn't about Passione.  

— What the fuck is that about then? — Narancia gurgled tearfully.  

— In two weeks you're supposed to vote for me. Not for Valentine. You'll admit that I'm not asking too much of you.

— And if I won't, then what? — Ghirga snapped defiantly.  

Diavolo sighed inwardly. He hated guys like that. Stubborn as mules, even if they had no choice.  

He picked up an electronic cigarette from the floor and waved it in front of the boy's nose.  

— That's when this toy ends up with the principal. I heard he's been really keen on founding out who smokes in the toilets lately. Do you think he'll throw you out? Would you like to find out?

Narancia glared at him.  

— You... Fuck you! You know? Fuck you! I hope Valentine wins. And that the first thing he does is give you an official order to suck his...

— I'm glad you understand. — Diavolo snapped his fingers. — Cioccolata.

— And now what for? — Narancia started struggling again. — I agreed, didn't I?! Give me a bre...! — bulbulbulbulbulbul

Diavolo stood up and dusted his knees meticulously.  

— So you don't forget about me too soon. — He allowed himself one small smile of satisfaction.  

Cioccolata joined him in the hallway.  

— Nice work, boss — he laughed. — I'm just curious about one thing...

— Hmm?  

— How exactly do you plan to check if he will keep his promise?  

— Very easily. If I win, it will mean he has shown intelligence. If not... then  he didn't.

— Hmmm... — The partner's voice sounded a bit skeptical. — No offense but... do you think one vote will change that much?  

Diavolo finally couldn't hold it in any longer and let out a short, loud laugh.  

— And I thought you were intelligent...— He turned to the boy with a smile that most would probably call terrifying. — One vote? Absolutely not. A few dozen? Sooner. Damn me, Cioccolata... Did you really think we were done?

***

— Report, Bruno — Funny demanded.  

He had always considered himself a patient person but time was ticking away and every minute meant losing potential voters.  

He had underestimated Diavolo. His rival had resorted to a very mundane game. He hadn't even tried to be particularly inventive. He had chosen brute force. Now he and all his subordinates were running around the school, intimidating the students. Both those who had sided with Valentine and those who were still hesitating who to vote for.  

It was an official declaration of war. So Funny wasted no time. He spent the previous evening considering potential plans to fix it. He had to resolve this crisis. He wanted to defeat Diavolo in a more fair fight but that was out of the question now. Since he had chosen to play dirty, it was time for the blonde to use means from the same category. All in the name of the greater good.  

— I sent my men out to scout right after my Italian lesson. Trish talked to ten people. Every one of them was attacked this morning, so Diavolo's on a pretty good pace.

— Did she take care of them like we agreed? — Funny asked.  

— Of course.  

Bruno looked at him as if the question was out of place. He would probably help most students without Valentine's explicit request but the candidate for president felt the need to make sure Una did her part. It was a matter of minimizing losses. A few bandages, candy and kind words from the ever-determined Trish could bring the victims back to their side once they had dealt their opponents a real blow.  

— The second part of the plan is worse. I sent Giorno to snoop around, since he knows the most about art. Unfortunately, he didn't find a clean path to Rohan — Bruno said. — Plus, everyone says Kishibe will reject the idea out of hand if he feels you're imposing your vision on him.

He came up with the idea of ​​using the young, promising artist's skills in a perfidious way after seeing Lucy leafing through the latest issue of Pink Dark Boy. Everything that came out of Rohan's pen sold like hot cupcakes. The school devoured every chapter. Many students loved to look for references and allegories, and there were plenty of them. It was not uncommon to see one of the professors or mocking allusions to strange school events. The problem with Kishibe was that he valued the independence of his creative processes. He came to a minimum of classes, drawing furiously the rest of the time, wanting to get into one of the famous publishing houses. So it was difficult to get to know him well enough to even suggest what he should do.  

— I didn't want this to happen but I'll have to go THERE — Funny sighed.

With that, he headed toward the school exit. The playing field wasn't a place he visited often. Certainly not in the fall. The expanses of green grass and the rows of bleachers weren't anything particularly interesting. They were the domain of students of a different breed than himself. That was why he was determined to avoid a visit that he knew he would have to pay dearly for.  

The comic book issue was now a matter of life and death. So he followed the smell of cigarettes. Loud laughter came from one of the oldest and most worn rows of plastic chairs.  

The blonde spotted the little boy pretty quickly. Dressed in a baseball uniform, he looked like he had just stepped off the field. However, upon closer inspection, he determined that he was definitely too young to be a member of Heaven's High. Perhaps he had come from a nearby kindergarten and wanted to practice?  

— Jolyneee! Someone's here to see you! — the boy called and quickly disappeared.

Jolyne was known for many things in school. The first and most important was being a cheerleader. Although most students could swear that she spent the time she should have been practicing hanging out with strange people. The second was her criminal past. Unlike people who were only rumored to have it, Jolyne actually had one. She spent some time in a juvenile detention center, from which she was released under strange circumstances.

If there was anyone at this school who had the idea or contacts to get to Rohan quickly, it was Jolyne.

— What do you want? — The voice was low and not very pleasant.  

Funny felt a girl lean over him, her dreadlocks tickling his cheek. She unceremoniously tossed her green pompoms aside and reached for a bottle of water.  

— Ermes asked the perfect question. Who are you and what do you want? — This was definitely the person he was looking for.  

Tattoos on her arms. Two buns on her head and green lipstick, which she was currently applying while looking at herself in a handy mirror.  

— I think you already know who I am but okay, I'll introduce myself. Funny Valentine, candidate for the twenty-third president of this school council. I need to get in touch with someone.

— What made you think we could help you? — Jolyne smiled mysteriously and began stretching.  

There were rumors that she was incredibly flexible, despite often skipping training. These rumors were by no means exaggerated. The boy watched in admiration as she performed a dozen acrobatic figures in a row.  

— We are not a charity — Ermes said firmly.  

— Of course not. A job well done deserves payment — Valentine agreed diplomatically.  

— Our price is…— she began.  

— Mini fountains! The ones you can press with your foot and then water comes out of them! — A third girl Funny didn't recognize butted in. — I want one of those in the whole school!

— Shut up, Foo Fighters! — Ermes pressed a finger to her forehead.  

The shorter girl pushed her hand away and grabbed the last of the water from the bottle on the bench. A moment later, she was sadly contemplating the empty bottom.  

— Pay no attention to her. We are interested in the seats in the council, once the president is elected.  

Valentine had a feeling that the price for his help would be high. That was the nature of striking a deal with Jolyne. And he didn't even have any tricks up his sleeve to make the price lower. So he had to grit his teeth and agree.  

At first, he'd certainly have to fulfill his contract but later, when he'd gained enough influence, he might be able to get the girls out of their jobs. At worst, he'd assign them to some insignificant segment.  

— I need to pitch my comic idea to Rohan Kishibe — the blond man finally announced.  

— Forget it! — Foo Fighters laughed, earning her another slap on the head from Ermes.  

— It won't be easy — Jolyne began. — Even we don't have direct contact with him but I know someone who does. You have to find Jōsuke Higashikata. He's in the first year. He'll do almost anything for money. If there's anyone who'll pass on an idea in such a way that Rohan will think it's a natural inspiration, it'll be him. Mainly because they honestly hate each other.

Valentine didn't think he'd be able to meet Jōsuke that same day. He managed to ask around the classroom and his peers said he was mostly helping out at the nurse's office. Funny took the fact that he managed to catch him there right away as a good omen.  

There was no mistaking it. Everyone around him kept telling him that when he saw Higashikata's hair, he'd know it was him. And it was true. It was a big, purple steak. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud. The teenager ran his hand through it, checking himself in the mirror above the sink. The nurse was nowhere to be seen.

— Jōsuke Higashikata? — Funny asked.  

— That's right. — The boy gave him a careful look. — You don't look too shabby. A stomach ache? Or maybe you've come to get a sick note? I warn you, nothing comes for free...  

— That's not the point — Valentine said.  

Jōsuke went back to applying gel to his hair, frantically combing it with a comb. However, when he heard that Funny had been sent by Jolyne, his attitude changed. He didn't seem thrilled with the idea. Especially when he realized that he would have to deal with Kishibe. However, the prospect of money was very tempting. His face showed a clear battle of thoughts. Did he have a plan? None. In fact, he had no idea how he could naturally give Rohan an idea. However, his mother had recently frozen his pocket money and a huge shipment was coming to the nearby retro game store. He really didn't want to leave empty-handed and needed the money as soon as possible.

— I'll tell you right away that I'm taking half the money up front — he finally gave in.  

Funny pulled out his wallet. He had been saving money for the election campaign for a long time. He was also prepared for unexpected expenses.  

He found that, unlike working with Jolyne, doing business with Jōsuke was really enjoyable. He saw this when a new chapter of Pink Dark Boy was announced the next day. The full version was released just a day later. He had to admit that whatever the artist was doing to create so quickly, he was doing it well.  

The black and white pages told the story of a new villain who ran an illegal drug business. His appearance, although enhanced, clearly showed a resemblance to Diavolo. The titular Pink Dark Boy had little in common with Valentine himself, which did not change the fact that many students began to compare them. Especially when on the last pages the main character began to call for opposing the great evil.  

The students' spirits were lifted. Not to the point of openly opposing Diavolo. However, they began to walk in larger groups, so that they would be harder to catch. The rumors also reached the teachers, who began to pay more attention to what was happening around the blonde's rival and his gang. This made intimidation much more difficult.  

The day Funny publicly announced that if he won, he would change the entire cafeteria menu was the day he gained the upper hand again. Diavolo's murderous gaze was on him before he even turned around. His rival was standing at the end of a long hallway. It was the first time he had deigned to show himself to him. The boy merely made a suggestive gesture of slitting his throat and disappeared.  

***

Diavolo didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. He had never thought too highly of his opponent but he honestly hadn't expected this to be the height of his abilities.  

— Is that all? — He finally looked up from his slightly rumpled copy of Pink Dark Boy. — You've been bugging me to read this for days... and that's really all?

Jobin Higashikata held his gaze with a straight face. He always did. Of all his subordinates, he was probably the least afraid of him. He knew his worth and sometimes it made him arrogant.  

— You may think it's stupid but a lot of students read this series. You're losing support. That's a fact, so save yourself the pissing off at me.

Diavolo cursed under his breath. He had noticed that himself. Only yesterday, when he had accidentally stumbled upon Valentine giving another grand, pathetic speech that had made him nauseous.  

— This dude…  

—tells voters exactly what they want to hear and paints himself in the best light at your expense — Jobin interrupted. — That requires a move on our part. You’ll have to come out of the shadows. I don’t care if that’s not your style.

— Don't you forget yourself? — Diavolo snapped. He felt hurt. Mainly because (though he damn well didn't want to admit it to himself) Jobin was right. About everything.  

— Me? I don't think so. You definitely do. Your methods aren't working anymore. You can't win with fear alone. You need a carrot in addition to the stick. You need to pull the wool over their eyes even more than Valentine did.

— The difference is that I don't throw words to the wind.  

— You think anyone cares? — Jobin crossed his arms. — Valentine throws and therefore leads. It's no different from real politics. You can't just assume you deserve it.

— We deserve it. I'm doing this for us.

Their group had been doing business in Heaven's High for over two years now. Diavolo had kept to the back rows the whole time, keeping a low profile, not letting himself be too obvious or memorable. He would never have gone against all of his principles by running if it hadn't been profitable for all of them. Having people in the student council, heck, being the student council, had its perks. They could take their business outside of school and potentially earn more money through field trips. They could team up with similar gangs through inter-school sports and maybe get some goods that were hard to come by in their town. Not to mention the various festivals and events that were just begging for a little organized money laundering.  

— How sweet... All the more so. Now that you've gotten yourself into this, don't hide behind half-measures. If you swallow your pride and play it right, Valentine won't stand a chance against you. Play their game while you play yours. Your first step was good but you have to maximize your chances in every way.

— You're suggesting — Diavolo concluded — that I should go out, stand in the middle of the cafeteria and make a sickly sweet speech promising people pie in the sky.

— In short, yeah. — Jobin allowed himself his first smile since the beginning of their conversation. He looked away from it and went back to observing a large, colourful beetle with huge horns, which he was delicately tossing from finger to finger. The insect probably came from one of the many terrariums standing in the biology room. Diavolo couldn’t believe that with so many animals, people came here so rarely but Cioccolata assured them that the teacher fed all the pets immediately after the end of the lesson, and since the incident with the mop in the aquarium, the cleaners were strictly forbidden to enter here. 

And speaking of Cioccolata…  

— Hey, boss. — Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Diavolo didn’t have to turn around. Only one person in his entourage had a voice that slimy.  

— Are you finished?  

— They don't get any more realistic than that.  

Diavolo stood up and looked at the three desks, the entire surface of which was filled with skillfully faked ballots. All were filled with a different type of pen and handwriting. There were, by the looks of it, fifty votes lying there.  

— And you're sure none of them will be suspicious?  

— Absolutely — Cioccolata assured him. — I've done my homework. Okuyasu Nijimura is a known truant who almost never shows up at the kennel. Diego Brando? He's suspended for another three weeks. Holly Kira's been in a coma for a month but only her homeroom teacher and the principal know about it. I've also got a bunch of first-graders who applied but never showed up. Every single one of them is legally registered at Heaven's High. And there's zero chance they'll vote.

— All right. — Diavolo nodded. — Just remember that there will definitely be a committee at the ballot box.  

— I've foreseen that, too. I can throw ten of them in between the D'Arbys. They're born con men. Hiding things up their sleeves is like breathing to them. I'll divide the rest among our men. They'll be prowling around, waiting for an opportunity.

— I can't believe I'm saying this but good job, Cioccolata.  

— At your service, boss. — The boy pushed a particularly disgusting-looking piece of cheese toward Secco, smiling smugly to himself.  

Satisfied, Diavolo looked around the room. His little campaign committee was running like a Swiss watch. Everyone was working on their assigned task. How could Valentine possibly face this?  

— Even with those votes, you'll still have nine percent to make up — Jobin said behind him, spoiling his mood a bit.  

Diavolo walked over to the opposite corner, where a skinny, long-haired guy in a hoodie was sitting. He was working on something intently on his laptop.  

— How's it going, Jodio?  

— Pretty good — he replied. — I’m still polishing a few details… It looks okay to me but check to make sure it’s what you wanted.

Diavolo pulled the screen closer to him and burst out laughing involuntarily. Jodio had done even better than he had expected. The photograph he had been working on was blurry and poorly framed, giving the impression that it had been taken from a candid perspective. And in the picture, Valentine, with his characteristic, slicked-back golden hair, was glancing nervously over his shoulder as he handed a roll of banknotes to a colourful lady whose clothes covered a solid thirteen percent of her skin.

— I was thinking of some other description — Jodio explained. — Something like "Whore and another whore"... or "Valentine supports family business".

— Both are good — Diavolo said, his mood rising with each passing moment. What did Valentine have compared to his perfectly oiled propaganda machine? Comics? Speeches? Golden curls?  

It wasn't a fair fight.

For his latest project, he enlisted the help of two brothers who weren’t part of his official entourage. Three-time sophomore Oingo and a year younger Boingo were known throughout the school for their artistic talents. They weren’t exactly in the same league as Rohan, of course, but Boingo also published his own comic book series. They were drawn in a very bright, cubist style that quite a few students recognized and appreciated. They were perfect.

Diavolo approached the boys' bench, trying to look a little less scary than usual. He didn't want to make a bad impression on them.  

— Can I see it?  

Boingo, torn from his creative trance, glanced at him in fear and then shifted his gaze to his brother. Diavolo had time to notice that he was rather shy. The older boy nodded.  

— It’s basically almost done — Oingo said. — We’re just adding the final details now.

Diavolo leaned over the sketch of the poster that would be hanging all over the school in a few hours. It showed a caricatured, twisted, angular Funny stuffing his pockets with money against the backdrop of the ruins of the school. He had pointy goblin ears and his hair was made of spaghetti. The caption under the drawing said: THANK YOU DONKEYS FOR MAKING THIS SO EASY FOR ME .

— It’s perfect. — He forced a smile but Boingo seemed to be scared of him because he dug his face back into the paper and started drawing at twice the speed.  

Oingo wasn't fooled by the smile.  

— We've done our part, so it's better for you to keep your word too.  

— I always keep my word — Diavolo lied. — You've got that D. You won't be repeating a grade again.

He wanted to finish his round and return to his seat when Jobin unexpectedly accosted him.  

— Someone's here to see you — he informed him with a sour expression. — They're waiting outside.

Diavolo's face turned pale.  

— Are you crazy? You weren't supposed to open the door to anyone! No one can know we're here...!  

— When you hear what he has to say, you'll change your mind — the boy interrupted and walked away.  

Still nervous, Diavolo stepped out into the hallway, careful to leave the door as closed as possible. When he saw who was standing on the other side, he felt all the blood drain from his face.  

— Have you come to spy? — he snapped.  

— Are you doing anything there that your constituents shouldn’t know about? — Lucy Pendleton replied calmly, with a feistiness he never would have suspected in her.  

Valentine's girlfriend stood a few steps away from him with a serious expression. It was the first time Diavolo had seen her up close. In fact, it was the first time he had heard her voice. He had always had the impression that she was a very sophisticated accessory, with which his rival could walk on his arm and show off during breaks. Like a watch or designer shoes. Pretty, docile and obedient.  

Now he realized that only the first of these traits was true.  

— None of your business — he stuttered in frustration.  

Lucy looked at him for a few seconds, then shook her head.  

— Honestly? I hope so. I hope you use every dirty trick you can. From what I've heard about you, that's your favourite.

She had caught him off guard. He no longer knew what his attitude to this conversation should be.  

— You're not on your lover's side? — he asked carefully.  

Lucy snorted with contempt.  

— I wish him all the worst.  

Diavolo crossed his arms.  

— Okay... And why should I care if you have bad days?

— You don't understand. — Lucy seemed sad. — Do you have a moment? I just want to talk.

They stood by the window, the warm sun shining through the leaves of the trees. It was a few hours after classes, so the hallway was empty but Diavolo wasn't at all calm about it. Someone could still see them. If they were really unlucky, maybe even Valentine himself.  

Lucy leaned against the windowsill with a tired look on her face.  

— I want you to win. I don't love Valentine — she said bluntly. — I don't want to be with him another day.

Diavolo held back the smile that was creeping onto his lips. He didn't yet know what the girl was thinking but if she was telling the truth, then he had just gotten his hands on the greatest weapon of all. Valentine could have expected an attack from any side but not this one.  

— Why does it depend on me winning? — he asked cautiously.  

— Because a public scandal is my only option — Lucy said seriously. — The election puts the whole school on him now. He can't threaten me without ruining his reputation.

— Threaten? — Diavolo knew what it meant to be a dangerous person because he was one himself. But he would never have guessed that the term could apply to Funny.

— Valentine made me break up with Steven, my boyfriend. — Lucy looked down. — He said if I didn't say yes, I'd never see him again. At first I didn't believe him... But that same day, Steven was attacked by a gang of thugs on his way home. They beat him up and threatened him with a knife. — She clenched her fists until they turned white. — I had to leave him. Right after that. I don't know if he understood. I think he tortures himself every day because he has no idea what he did wrong. And I can't tell him anything...

— Why is he so keen on you?  

— Because he likes me and he thinks he can't be refused.  

Diavolo shook his head in disbelief. He still couldn't believe the girl was talking about the same Funny he knew.  

— Funny Valentine cares a lot about his image as the perfect student... but he's the biggest asshole this school has ever seen. — Lucy looked at him seriously. — I want us to understand each other. I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I've heard the rumors about you. I know you're a total son of a bitch who should be behind bars and the last person who should be council president. But honestly? I don't care. I just want Steven back. After this, I'll convince him to change schools and we'll never come back here. Win, don't win, do whatever you want... I won't care anymore.

Diavolo would have to be crazy to turn down such an offer.  

— What should I do? — he asked.  

— Isn't that clear? — The girl raised an eyebrow. — Repeat everything I told you publicly. People need to know. I can handle the rest.

And she left. Diavolo did not move from under the window for a long time, calmly analyzing their conversation in his mind.  

He finally sighed and headed back to the biology classroom. Of course, he couldn't make Lucy's case the only point of his (inevitable) speech. He could, however, use her as the perfect culmination of it. In a way, he liked the irony of the situation. Valentine spoke every day, sometimes several times. He, Diavolo, would only need one speech.  

If he wanted to think about speech, though, he needed a program. With projects and promises and all that crap. It made him sick to think about it but this once he would have to swallow his pride. The benefits were definitely worth the compromises.  

— Jobin! — he growled in the doorway. — Come here. Right now. — He smiled to himself. — Time for a little speech.  

***

— We need to talk. — A firm girl's voice reached Valentine's ears.  

— Trish Una. To what do I owe this visit?

He didn't expect to see anyone from Bucciarati's gang before the results were announced. Tomorrow was the last day to cast votes. A large part of the students who were still hesitating would put their decisions in the ballot box because each class had been assigned a moment to visit the committee under the supervision of teachers. So even if they didn't do it out of a sense of duty, they would have to choose someone. He was leading in the polls so much that he didn't really plan any new actions. So what was a teenager doing here?  

— Let's skip the pleasantries. I come with a specific case.  

— Then come on in. — He gestured toward the secluded classroom.  

It wasn't a real base. The empty room would have to suffice until he could take his seat in the room designated for the student government. For now, he sat down on a pitifully ordinary chair.  

— Diavolo’s got something on you — Trish said bluntly, slamming her hand on the table.

Funny ordered himself to calm down. In recent days, so many people had come to him with similar remarks that he was slowly starting to get fed up with them. With each subsequent statement about his rival, he felt like vomiting... Diavolo did this... Diavolo did that... Diavolo shit himself! Hadn't he shown in recent days how masterfully he crushed him? If it weren't for the fact that the girl was Bruno's subordinate, he probably wouldn't have attributed much weight to her words.  

— Keep talking — he encouraged.  

— I've been spying on your nightingale. Honestly, I've always thought you were a piece of shit. You've never appreciated women and it would be nice to watch you fall on your ass for it. I'd congratulate her myself, if you and I weren't in the same boat.

The loyalty of Bruno's gang members knew no bounds. He would have admired such devotion if he hadn't just been insulted.  

— Get to the point. — The boy felt that if he didn’t stop this, Trish would get lost in the feminism chatter and never say what it was really about.  

— Lucy blabbed to Diavolo about Steven. They're getting ready for a big speech in the morning. If that was the only problem, maybe you could do something about it but I found a few copies of this, too. — She handed him a stack of papers.  

Funny blew a curl from his forehead and looked at the pictures. So that's how Diavolo had figured it out... He waited until the last moment for the finale, so that Valentine couldn't do anything anymore. The whole action went beyond the student council elections. If these fake photos and posters saw the light of day, combined with Lucy's tearful speech, not only the students would believe it. It would certainly reach the teachers' ears as well. They wouldn't want his help with additional activities. Neither they nor the leaders of the science clubs. And then the extra points to get a place at a prestigious university would disappear. They wanted to ruin his life.

— Thank you for telling me — he replied after a moment. — You can be sure I will take care of the matter.

— I can't believe you're so calm! — Una shook her head in disbelief. — Never mind that. A son of a bitch like you'll think of something — she said, walking away.  

— Guys, can I lay low here for a little? — The face that appeared through the crack in the door was the last one the boy expected to see that day. — I barely escaped because the professor wanted to flunk me — the boy groaned.  

Valentine wasn't a superstitious man but the presence of Joseph Joestar, the school's symbol of happiness, confirmed that what he was thinking was right. If the universe wanted it too, who was he to say no?

***

Funny glanced at his watch. Of course Diavolo wasn't here yet. He had anticipated that he would want to show his superiority over him.

This part of the train station had been closed for some time. All because of renovations. The footbridge over the high-speed train line was therefore an ideal meeting place. The few people avoided it at a distance and did not even look at what was happening above.  

There was a crisp, autumnal air in the air. It was going to be a bright and sunny day. Perfect for closing the case once and for all and finally getting things done.  

Diavolo emerged from the graffiti-covered alleyway. He took his time. His lazy stride exuded contempt. The same disdain his rival felt. On that, at least, they agreed.  

— I wasn't sure you'd show up — Valentine said.  

— You sent me an invitation. — Diavolo bared his teeth in an insincere smile.  

His long, pink hair was blowing in the wind, in contrast to the blond's carefully styled curls. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Instead of a carefully ironed jacket, he was wearing a sweatshirt. The equivalent of his polished shoes were old, worn-out sneakers. He was shouting with his whole being how much he didn't care about this meeting.  

— What's there to say? I knew you'd find out sooner or later what I was doing. Were you scared? Rightfully so. — His smile widened even more, if that was even possible. — Let's just say I have an offer for you...

— Impossible to refuse, I suppose? — Funny raised an eyebrow.  

The slight bulge in his sweatshirt pocket told Valentine that maybe his opponent was taking this visit seriously after all. It could have been anything but he was betting on the gun. How long would it take his opponent to shoot him?  

— I'm a businessman. Honestly, I don't give a damn about this place and you know it. I'm not interested in all this idealistic bullshit. I need self-government to develop my business. That's why I'm proposing this to you. — He threw the note in front of him unceremoniously.  

The paper fell onto the asphalt, still a bit wet from yesterday's rain. A dirty stain bloomed in the middle of the document. It spread like a brown drop of blood on a white background.  

— Resignation from running in the election — Funny said.  

He didn't even have to look to know what it was. The teenager guessed that this was what his enemy would offer him. Diavolo was perfectly aware that this was the least invasive way out of the situation. This way he would get a seat in the student council and Valentine would save face, while being defeated in the eyes of his rival. Diavolo had specially printed this paper earlier. Just so he could throw it now. To humiliate him.  

— Sign this paper and we'll forget about this whole thing. If I feel in the mood, I might even call off that Lucy of yours.

Funny glanced at his watch. He wanted to swallow hard. He felt his heart leap into his throat. He told himself to calm down. Everything he did, he did in the name of freedom. What he was doing now was a dispensation of justice.  

He walked up to the paper and knelt down, trying to pick it up from the ground.  

— Valentine on his knees — Diavolo laughed.  

The boy involuntarily thought of Narancia's words. Funny could be sucking him now. This vision amused him to the end. Too much, in fact.  

He didn't notice the moment when the pink fop skillfully cut both of his legs. Diavolo reached for the gun but not fast enough. The gun rolled a bit further. How on earth did Funny do it so fast? When had they even gotten this close to the edge? Diavolo desperately grabbed the metal bar of the walkway. His arms burned like fire as he slid his fingers over the cool metal. He almost managed to pull himself up. However, the moment he heard the train, he felt a kick in the middle of his head. He tried to catch himself again but all he encountered was air.  

Funny straightened his slightly rumpled jacket. Before school, he had to check if the old thug had already zeroed the bottle of high-proof moonshine he had been given. That way, he would finally make sure that he wasn't on any cameras. But the worst job was already behind him.  

The sun was rising over the train station. Valentine stopped for a moment and took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was a good day to be student council president.