Archive of Our Own ^beta

The problems start one boring night, all because of a torn magazine.

Lazing upside-down on his bed, arms straight up above his face, CD player blasting— well, maybe he’d been asking for trouble, letting his leg slowly slip off the mattress like that. It’s a thing not many people notice, but he isn’t given to grace, not even at the best of times. Josuke takes great pride in his looks, but he’s big and bulky and he can fix things with a thought. Awareness of his surroundings? It’s overrated.

Therefore, it comes as a terrible shock when Josuke’s steadily sliding center of gravity finally decides to drag him unceremoniously towards his bedroom floor, and he yelps as he falls. With a crackly riiip and an ungraceful thud, Josuke blinks the stars from his eyes and realizes what’s happened.

“Aw shit,” he sighs, staring at the magazine he had just been leafing through, now neatly torn in half. Josuke has a wealth of magazines, collected over the years from corner stores and boutiques, and he has an unspoken agreement with his mother: once it rips, that’s when it gets trashed. A simple setup to keep the piles down. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a sticking point, especially with an old issue like this, but...

“Oi, Josuke! I, uh, got somethin’ for you!”

“Huh?” Josuke wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and looks across his front yard, where his best friend is grinning semi-sheepishly, an enormous cardboard box held in both arms. The thing is bigger than his torso, and Josuke leaps up from his folding chair when Okuyasu tries to walk closer and wobbles worrisomely. “What the hell is this? It’s huge!”

“I found ‘em while I was clearing out the basement,” Okuyasu says, and lets Josuke take the opposite end. He’s still got his cleaning apron on, a stained ensemble demoted from sous chef quality at Tonio’s last month after an incident with the oven left it scorched all up its left side, and Josuke tries to ignore how cute it looks on him. “And I just... thought you might like ‘em!”

Curiosity piqued, Josuke leans in and looks at the box’s contents. Stacked inside to the brim are dozens of old fashion magazines, none of them any more recently dated than the early 1980s. Despite the battered old cardboard they’re in, the magazines are in surprisingly good quality for their age, and none of them seem rotted or warped. 

If this had been offered by anybody else, Josuke would have turned them down flat. The magazines are ancient, unfashionable, and absolutely not to his taste. Besides, if his mom finds out that he took such a huge box of them, she’ll flip out.

Pursing his lips, Josuke looks up.

Okuyasu is smiling at him, wide eyes crinkling at the corners with glee at finally finding something to his best friend’s liking. He doesn’t exchange gifts much. Josuke knows it’s because he doesn’t have much to give. But here he is, eagerly offering the best he can manage. There’s a cobweb in his hair from cleaning, and a splinter sticking out of the meat of his thumb.

Josuke’s heart does a funny little somersault in his chest.

Now he’s looking blankly at a ruined one of many old basement fashion magazines, and instead of standing up to throw it away, as he should, Josuke’s thinking about Okuyasu’s beaming face as he’d offered them. It makes his ribs ache, and his throat tighten, and something in the back of his brain glow fever-hot with delight. The rest of him, however?

Mouth twisting into a mild grimace, Josuke huffs and drops the two chunks onto his chest. The rest of him is wildly uncertain, kind of scared, and maybe a little bit nauseous. It would be one thing if this was the first time, but no, the feelings keep coming back— and only ever when Okuyasu’s around.

When he enthusiastically goes on about a new recipe he’s been mastering. When he crows victoriously every time he wins a game of Mario Kart. When he smiles at the squirrels in the park that get close enough to take crumbs right from his hand. When he looks out peacefully over the sunflower field on their long walks. Each and every time, Josuke’s heart sings with a dazzling new joy, so intense that it terrifies him. It comes from a place he’s ignored for so long that it seems impossible to ever reach over that gap... so he’s never tried. He doesn’t think he even wants to.

Whatever. If he doesn’t want to, it’s probably not important, and he resolves to forget about the whole thing. Still, he’s lying on his floor with a decision to make and a torn-up tabloid on his collarbone.

Josuke picks up a page and frowns mightily at it, as if that’ll solve his conundrum. It should go in the trash. It should really go in the trash.

But it was a gift from...

Sighing as dramatically as he can manage, Josuke gives up and summons Crazy Diamond. In a second of twinkling golden light, the magazine is whole once more, and he grins triumphantly. Stand dismissed with a flick of his thoughts, he straightens up to lean more comfortably against his bed. “Hah. Nice.”

He flips the thing open on the last page he read, illuminated nicely by that familiar radiance...

Wait.

Josuke whips his head up to see Crazy Diamond, distinctly not dismissed, standing morosely over him. He furrows his brows, tries to get rid of it again, but is unsuccessful once more. All it seems to do is make Crazy Diamond frown even harder; a sad, almost pitiful look painted over the Stand’s face, a far cry from its usual stern expression.

“Dude,” Josuke says. It’s been years since he’s talked to Crazy Diamond directly, but he still gets some kind of response. Blue eyes flick to his, and Josuke jerks his head to the side in a distinctly ‘stop being materialized’ gesture. “What are you sticking around for? It’s done, you’re good.”

If it’s been years since he talked to his Stand, it’s been even longer than that since he got a verbal reply. But, much to his shock, Crazy Diamond sighs— he didn’t even know it could do that— and says, woefully: “Dora.”

“Huh!?” Josuke gasps, intelligently, before he cuts himself off with a very unattractive choking noise because Crazy Diamond is walking off, which is consequently dragging him away. Not far, admittedly; just across the room to his window, which has a nice view of the neighborhood from the second story. The summer leaves wave in the breeze, and over the sea of green and tiled roofs is the familiar shape of the Nijimura house, poking up higher than the rest.

Opening the window, Crazy Diamond leans out, and for a second Josuke is terrified that his Stand has gone completely rogue and is going to throw him out of his bedroom window. But no, that doesn’t happen, because instead, Crazy Diamond leans its elbows on the windowsill, props its chin in one hand, and sighs again, staring longingly off at the horizon.

“What the hell is your problem,” Josuke gripes as he picks himself off the floor. His Stand ignores him. Arching a brow with curiosity, Josuke straightens up and stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Crazy Diamond, following the line of its gaze to...

Oh. Well.

Despite appearing as if it's looking a thousand yards away, Crazy Diamond is actually staring right at the Nijimura house, a placid smile on its sculpted face. It sighs again, even more dreamily this time, and Crazy Diamond doesn't really have eyelids to flutter, but somehow its expression manages to get the general concept across anyway. Josuke feels his Stand's cheeks begin to heat up with a blush, and he claps his hands over his eyes, groaning openly.

“I don't know what's going on with you, man!”

“Dora,” Crazy Diamond mumbles wistfully. Josuke glares at it, but it seems completely preoccupied with studying the Nijimura house, just down the street. He tries to dismiss it again, but it stays, and he grumbles and kicks at his carpet before eventually giving up and slumping down under the window, back up against the wall. At least he still has his magazine.

It's just... he's never really lost control of his Stand before. Not like this, anyway, with Crazy Diamond acting so strange, so... separate from Josuke's desires. It's not like he wants to be at the Nijimura house right now, especially with Okuyasu off at his summer job around this hour, so what's the point in gazing longingly at it? What could Crazy Diamond possibly want that Josuke doesn't?

“Whatever,” he huffs, and opens his magazine to the recently-torn center. “Knock yourself out.”

Eventually, Crazy Diamond lets him go, but only after a good fifteen minutes of dumb sightseeing. Its eyes never leave the dark spires of the house next door, and Josuke buries his nose in decades-old fashion mistakes and pretends very, very hard to not care about the whole thing.

Not like it matters, anyway. Once his Stand finally dissipates, Josuke promises himself, yeah, I'm not gonna let that happen again.

Less than a week later, it happens again.

At least this time the circumstances are less inane than a ripped-up magazine. Though it starts in a similar way— Josuke, draped over his living room couch, box fan dutifully pointed in his direction and lilac tank top exposing a hearty slice of his stomach. A popsicle stick, all flavor long gone from the thin wood, bobs up and down as he idly chews on it, only half-engaged with Pokémon Puzzle League on the TV.

Josuke watches the game cheerfully display ‘YOU LOSE’ for the umpteenth time and groans, crunching down harder on the stick between his teeth. There’s no other word for it: he’s bored out of his skull. Oppressive summer weather isn’t helping, either. It’s been so humid, his pomp can barely stay upright!

Part of him knows that staying inside all day isn’t really helping him alleviate this issue, but going to the beach or getting ice cream isn’t nearly as fun when you have to do it on your own. And unlike last year, Josuke is unfortunately very alone, because Okuyasu isn’t around.

Well, he’s still around. They live just down the street from each other, so Josuke sees him plenty, usually in the afternoon when he’s pulling out his bike from the backyard. But this summer, Okuyasu decided to pick up extra shifts at Tonio’s, usually during dinner hours— which means he’s staying up late and sleeping in late too. It has dramatically cut down on their bro time.

An ugly, upset feeling crawls into Josuke’s throat at the thought, and he scrunches up his face before tossing his controller to the floor. Sure, Okuyasu gets weekends off, free days that Josuke makes sure to take advantage of, but not having his best friend by his side is becoming increasingly agonizing. He wants to go to the beach and get ice cream and go window shopping and maybe catch the train down to S-City for lunch. He wants to be anywhere but lying inside his house with nothing to do but lose at video games...

...but he only wants it if Okuyasu is there, too.

Josuke spits his popsicle stick out and peels himself off the couch cushions, aimlessly heading towards the kitchen. His mom isn’t home; she’s off having lunch and drinks with some friends from work, and as a consequence, she won’t be able to reprimand him if she sees him take a few more popsicles from the freezer. Mostly he just lingers in front of the fridge, though, feeling the cold on his skin.

Maybe I’ll give Yukako a call, he thinks idly, reaching in to dig around for another grape-flavored one. She and Koichi are on holiday in Karuizawa, have been for a few weeks, but she’s his only friend with a cell phone, and if she has time he knows they’ll be able to get an hour or two of chatting in. He could really use a hearty gossip sesh right about now.

Of course, just when the concept has crossed his mind, the phone rings.

Josuke flinches before slamming the freezer shut and darting to the hallway, grabbing the phone as quickly as he can. Anything to stop his boredom is a good thing! “Hello, this is Higashikata—”

“Yo, Josuke!”

He can’t help the way his heart soars at that familiar raspy voice. “Oku! Hey man, what’s... wait, shouldn’t you be at work right now? What, are you playing hooky?”

“Hey, hey! Not on your life, I’m responsible now!” Okuyasu laughs a bit, but there’s a thread of anxiety in his tone. “I should be going, yeah, but... I’ve kind of got a... problem? I think?”

Maybe it would have been wise to ask him for clarification first, but Josuke’s been given a golden opportunity that he doesn’t want to waste. “Okay, I’ll be over in a minute!”

“Wh— Josuke—”

He doesn’t even hear it, slamming the phone back down on the receiver and sprinting to the front door.

Two minutes later, he’s skidding through the Nijimura’s front gate, flip-flops threatening to fall off his feet. Apparently, he might have been a little too eager to arrive, because Okuyasu steps out of his house a second after Josuke stumbles to a stop, squinting at him. “Bro. You didn’t have to run for it, I’m just down the street.”

“What’s the problem?” Josuke replies instead of willingly acknowledging that he was perhaps overenthusiastic. Okuyasu grits his teeth in a way that means he doesn’t know what to say, and reaches up to scratch awkwardly at the nape of his neck. It pulls up his tight white work shirt in a manner that Josuke does not notice whatsoever.

“Well... mmgh.” Okuyasu grimaces, then sighs and jerks his head towards the back of his house. “Don’t know how to describe it, so you’re probably better off seein’ it for yourself.”

Dutifully, Josuke follows his best friend as he walks down his front steps and rounds the side of the house. His motorcycle is already out, pointed towards the front gate and simply resting on its kickstand; proof that Okuyasu was preparing to head to work before he was interrupted. They ignore it as they pass by.

In the very corner of the Nijimura’s yard is a shed. Before Okuyasu and his dad moved in, it had been in even worse condition than the house itself, windows all shattered and roof beams nearly rotted through. A quick session with Crazy Diamond had solved those issues long ago, and Josuke knows that these days Okuyasu mostly keeps spare compost (for Stray Cat) and his motorcycle (for when the forecast calls for rain) in there. 

But this time, as the pair of them approach the shed, a horrible noise starts up. It’s hideous, and Josuke has no idea how he didn’t notice it before. A cacophony of animal screaming, punctuated by violent hissing and high-pitched, frantic yowls— is there a cat inside, or a dog? Every few seconds, the screeching is broken up by weak thumps and a hacking, intense cough. The racket combines into an atrocious clamor that sends a chill creeping down Josuke’s spine.

“It ain’t pretty, either,” Okuyasu warns, coming to a stop before the closed door. “I don’t think it can hurt us, but... be careful?”

And with that hanging ominously in the air, he leans over and pulls the door open. Josuke peers inside, and almost instantly regrets it.

Squirming on the dusty floor of the shed is a writhing pile of fur, flesh and limbs, dragging itself pitifully across the boards in random directions. At first, it’s nearly impossible to tell what’s what, but as Josuke stares in horror he begins to pick out details: a dog’s hindquarters, a cat’s triangular ears, lashing tails belonging to one of each. He blinks, and the form coalesces before his eyes.

It’s a cat and a dog, probably both strays by their ragged appearance, but they’ve been fused together along the side, slightly misaligned so only one set of paws can be on the floor at once. The two animals’ heads are very close, and foam has gathered at the corner of their mouths from how long they’ve been snarling at each other. Something glimmers along the seam where their fur meets, and Josuke leans in, squinting a little to try and get a better look.

Thread. Red thread, shimmering with a familiar unnatural light, stitches the two creatures’ bodies together. He clicks his tongue and turns back, cocking a brow at Okuyasu.

“This is Stand bullshit for sure.” He points at the thread, and Okuyasu mimics his pose from just a few seconds earlier. “You see it? That little red line— it’s holding their bodies together.”

“Oh, eugh,” Okuyasu groans. Josuke can’t help but agree with the sentiment. “Who would do somethin’ like this to a couple of poor little animals?! That’s just cruel.”

“Yeah. Well, all right...” Josuke drops down so he’s squatting on the balls of his feet, inching just a bit closer to the amalgamate. They see him shuffling towards them; the dog starts yapping, claws scrabbling over the wood in a desperate and unsuccessful attempt to flee. With a wriggle, the pair lose their fragile balance and the cat yowls as it’s squished against the boards. Josuke grimaces, and Crazy Diamond shimmers into existence behind him. “Let’s see if I can help out.”

Thankfully, it appears that neither of the animals are Stand users, because they don’t react as Crazy Diamond steps forwards to delicately place a hand on the dog’s back. Glittering gold surrounds the pair of pets, and—

“Oof,” Josuke groans. Nothing’s happening, but suddenly, the pressure is immense; it feels like Crazy Diamond is trying to tear a mountain in half rather than separating a cat from a small dog. He grits his teeth, focuses harder, and slowly, slowly , the animals start to divide in two.

But it isn’t easy. The more he tugs at it, the brighter the thread between the animals shines, and as they inch further and further apart the true extent of the damage becomes visible. On the outside, the seam appears stitched by a single thread. Inside, however, is a thick mass of red tendrils, pulled taut and so tangled and vibrant that it looks like a forest of connecting veins. Josuke bites his lip, skull suddenly pulsing with an oncoming headache, and he realizes what’s going on.

He can’t separate the animals. At least... not on his own.

“Okuyasu,” he grunts, barely able to spare any mental energy towards communicating. “The Hand— cut the threads with The Hand! Now!”

“Oh— Oh! Right! Yeah!” There’s the sparkling sound of a Stand being summoned, then the familiar bassy WHOOMPH of The Hand’s swipe— and, just like that, the pressure vanishes as the cat and dog split neatly apart.

No longer needing to focus, Josuke isn’t prepared for the sudden cessation of his effort, and he nearly topples over. Thankfully, Okuyasu is faster than he looks, and he manages to dip down and catch Josuke right before his back hits the grass behind him. Stars pop in Josuke’s vision, and he leans back into Okuyasu’s chest, unexpectedly short of breath.

In front of them, the two animals shakily regain their footing, tongues lolling out of their mouths and dripping with saliva. Almost at the same time, they turn their heads and catch each other in their sights. The cat’s fur instantly springs on end and it screeches with displeasure; the dog’s hackles raise and its snout crinkles in a deep growl. And just like that, the two pets dash off past the exhausted teenagers and into the streets of Morioh once more, vanishing in no time at all.

“Hah— thanks, man,” Josuke huffs. Above him, Okuyasu gifts him with a wide, bright smile, and squeezes him just a bit in his arms. Josuke’s chest gets all tight and fluttery.

“You did it, bro! That was amazing!”

“Nah... we did it.” He weakly raises his arm for a celebratory fistbump, which Okuyasu happily reciprocates. “There was no way I coulda done that on my own.”

“Dora!”

The pair of them blink and look up.

Levitating above them are their Stands, which have quite conspicuously not vanished like normal. Instead, with a cheerful, almost giddy grin, Crazy Diamond is eagerly holding its own fist out, and The Hand slowly reaches forwards to bump the knuckles of its non-dangerous hand against it. Crazy Diamond looks so happy that it’s shining a little brighter than usual.

If that had been all, it would have been no problem; in fact, Josuke is already calling the whole scene kind of cute in his head before it suddenly takes a turn for the worse. Because Crazy Diamond isn’t satisfied, oh no.

As soon as the two Stands’ hands make contact, Crazy Diamond opens up its fingers and interlaces them with The Hand’s, floating closer with a soft expression plastered on its chiseled features. With sickly-sweet gentleness, it brings their locked hands up to its own face, nuzzling into The Hand's palm as much as it can manage without letting go. Its expression is unmistakable, undeniable— Crazy Diamond is indisputably lovestruck.

“Dora,” it hums, cuddling right up to The Hand. Josuke watches, petrified, as his Stand’s soft, fuzzy feelings wash over him, heart thumping frantically against his ribs. Okuyasu’s arms are still around him, and he can’t help it, gaze slowly sliding upwards to look at the shock on his best friend’s face.

In front of them, Crazy Diamond’s free hand is creeping towards The Hand’s waist, and Josuke’s panic breaks into a thousand shards. He leaps to his feet, almost tripping over himself, and stammers something incomprehensible about needing to leave and he has to do chores before his mom gets home and oh no, did he leave the oven on?

“Oh, uh— bye, Josuke!” Okuyasu calls after him as Josuke sprints away. Thankfully, Crazy Diamond doesn’t cause any more problems, and dutifully shimmers out of existence the moment Josuke is out of range. 

His terror, however, doesn’t disappear. It follows him all the way back to his house, up the stairs, and under the covers Josuke throws himself under, despite the oppressive heat. And there he stays, sweating down to the mattress as Crazy Diamond’s actions and the look on Okuyasu’s face swirl around his head over and over, and he buries his hands in his hair and pulls.

Locks of once-pompadour fall over his eyes in hairsprayed chunks. He only just remembers to bite down on his pillow to muffle his screaming, burning inferno-hot with shame and confusion, and swears to himself that he’ll never, ever, ever, ever let his Stand act out again. Not for the whole rest of his life, assuming he doesn’t just shrivel up and die on the spot the next time he sees Okuyasu. Or... worse.

He doesn’t know what worse entails.

(He does, but he tries not to think about it.)

Josuke has never met anybody who’s gay in Morioh.

Well, all right— maybe that’s not true. When he was twelve a guy named Mr. Egawa had moved in on their street, and he had studs in his ears and was a very conspicuous bachelor. But he’s long gone, had moved right out again three years later, and Josuke hadn’t really put two and two together until a while after he’d left. 

(And, if he’s being completely honest, he has some suspicions about Rohan that have never been confirmed, but if he’s wrong he’ll jump into the pond at the bus stop and let the turtle eat him.)

Regardless, the truth remains the same: Josuke has no one to talk to about all of this. 

Not that there’s a this to even talk about, really, just maybe he’s kind of freaking out because his Stand is acting like a total tool and it's making him reevaluate a lot of things about himself and his life and a lot of feelings he may have had and is continuing to have.

Worst of all, however, it's making him avoid Okuyasu. And that's something he can't bear, not at all.

Josuke hates being separated from Okuyasu. It's part codependence, part distant memories of much worse; during the month after he got out of the hospital his best friend had practically lived at the Higashikata's, because Josuke slid worryingly quickly into near-hysteria every time Okuyasu left his line of sight. He's improved a lot since then, but it's still not something he enjoys.

And yet, every time he thinks about heading over to the Nijimuras’ now, his stomach clenches and breathing becomes just a bit more difficult to pull off. It's like he's being split in half, torn between the part of him that feels Okuyasu's absence like it's physical and the part of him that's terrified of what their reunion might entail. That this brief separation might become permanent.

It truly does not help that since its outburst, Crazy Diamond has gotten even worse. Every day, multiple times a day, Josuke gets startled by the unplanned appearance of his pink-and-blue bodybuilder ghost, all to pout as hard as it can manage. 

Watching his Stand slip from his control is terrifying, doubly so when all it does is stomp its feet and try to bait Josuke into confronting Okuyasu, appearing at random and dragging him around like the world's most irritating toddler. Thankfully, he still has enough influence to dig in his heels and prevent Crazy Diamond from bringing him along with it, but sometimes it's a near thing.

At least now he knows its reasoning: Crazy Diamond has a big, dumb, stupid crush on The Hand. It doesn't even have the decency to act subtle about the whole thing. 

Half the time when Crazy Diamond manifests itself without permission, it’s to find the nearest window and gaze longingly towards the Nijimura house, just like that first day. Or it does something equally as sickening and idiotic. Once, while he’s in the backyard taking the garbage out, Josuke catches Crazy Diamond drawing a crude recreation of The Hand’s frowning face in the dust lying over the cans, surrounded by a dozen tiny hearts.

Flustered and weirdly nauseous, Josuke wipes the doodle away, and the betrayal in his Stand's eyes lingers in his memory every time he blinks.

After only a few days of this— enough time for his mother to comment on how she hasn’t seen Okuyasu this weekend, is he all right, that sweet boy?— Josuke decides that he’s had enough. It’s surely dangerous for his Stand to be running wild, and if it goes on much longer, something might happen that everybody regrets. Or at least, something he’ll regret. Probably.

So Josuke finally puts a decent outfit on, shakes off the metaphorical dust from hiding in his house for three days, and makes absolutely certain that Okuyasu is well into his shift at Tonio’s before braving the outside again. Naturally, the moment he steps out his front door, Crazy Diamond decides to accompany him.

There’s a brief tug-of-war, with his Stand trying its best to pull him away and towards Trussardi’s, but Josuke holds firm and rips the two of them away, baring his teeth at the effort. His true destination isn’t far, anyway. Just down a couple blocks, where the boxy shape of a payphone looms next to a bus stop.

It’s not big enough to hold him and Crazy Diamond, so Josuke muscles it out of the way to close the glass door behind him and leave his Stand outside, watching him like a kicked puppy. He frowns at Crazy Diamond and sticks his tongue out at it before fumbling in his pockets for a few ten-yen coins, hastily shoved in the pocket of his board shorts before he left. Tapping his foot anxiously as the line rings twice, then three times, Josuke considers how ridiculous a Stand waiting outside a phone booth must look and prays that no other users decide to stroll by in the next few minutes.

Ring, ring, ring— clik.

“Dr. Kujo Jotaro—”

“Thank God! Jotaro, man, you’ve got to help me!”

See, Josuke figures he’s got no one to talk to— in Morioh, that is. But Jotaro knows more about Stands than anybody else, and he left back in 1999, hasn’t stepped foot in town since. He’s comfortably far away, close enough to give advice and distant enough that the concept of talking to him doesn’t terrify Josuke out of his wits. Nobody will learn anything from talking to Jotaro, if he’ll even repeat any of this in the first place.

“Josuke?” Even through the crunch of the phone compression, Jotaro’s voice sharpens. “Is something happening?”

“I think so— I mean, it’s kind of happening? It’s like, um—”

“Calm down.You’re not making any sense.”

Josuke inhales. Gathers all his strength, tight up into a ball against his ribcage, so tense he might explode. Outside, Crazy Diamond peers in, curious.

“If my Stand has a crush on my best friend's Stand does that mean I'm gay this isn't about me though I'm asking for a friend!” He manages to scream into the receiver.

What follows is a long, painful stretch of silence. The plastic grows hot in Josuke's sweaty hands, and he feels his lip starting to split between his teeth, iron blooming across his tongue just like the regret in his gut.

“...Good grief,” Jotaro's staticky voice replies after far too much time. “I thought you were in danger.”

“I didn’t mean to say that,” Josuke replies weakly, slumping over to slide against one wall of the payphone. All of his earlier bravado leaves him in a heavy exhale, and he just feels sweaty and sticky and nasty and disgusting, a little bug trapped in a terrarium. “Sorry. You can, uh, forget that. It’s just— Crazy Diamond’s acting all weird and I hate it.”

“Acting weird? How?”

“Guhhhh.” Josuke presses the side of his forehead against the cool glass. “He’s, like... really sappy and gushy right now. He keeps trying to drag me places so he can see The Hand, and whenever they’re near each other, CD gets all cuddly. He won’t even listen to me half the time, just keeps appearing out of nowhere! He’s never done this, not since I was like, really, really little!”

“The Hand... that’s Nijimura Okuyasu’s Stand, yes?”

“...Yeah.”

“Mmm.” For the first time, something else bleeds through the phone’s speaker— weak, light noises, like a distant stream splashing against rocks. “...Fissiparity is rare in this species.”

“Jotaro,” Josuke grits out. “Are you talking to me while you’re at work?”

“...”

“Jotaro.”

“It’s not unheard of for Stands to act against their user’s conscious will. Usually only younger, inexperienced users experience that problem—”

“I’m seventeen.”

“—but even a skilled user can lose control if they experience a traumatic event or turbulent emotions. A Stand is a manifestation of the soul. They don’t truly do things that their user doesn’t want.”

“...Oh.” 

“Maybe you should talk to Okuyasu.”

Its tall, muscular body pressed against the glass, Crazy Diamond stares down at Josuke, blue eyes piercing right through him. Suddenly the booth is too small, too revealing; Josuke is a pitiful little thing suffocating inside, clinging to a payphone and begging for help from a man too far away to ever understand. His nails dig into the plastic, and a flake of purple polish chips off and falls to the ground.

“I— I can’t do that,” he breathes, hating how tinny his voice sounds, how weak he is. “What if— Jotaro, what if he hates me for it?”

Silence on the other end.

“I can’t lose him again.” Josuke mumbles, heart pounding in his throat.

“...Good luck, Josuke.”

“Yeah, right.” He shoves the phone back on its hook, and when he steps out of the booth, Crazy Diamond finally disappears without a fight.

It’s only on the slow walk home, insides heavy as lead, that Josuke realizes he forgot to mention the red threads from the mystery Stand even once.

With Jotaro an admittedly predictable bust, Josuke finds himself out of options. He returns to his house soaked through with sweat and just as miserable as he’s been all weekend, hair limp against his forehead. Trudging up the stairs feels like too much, but he drags himself up anyway, alone in an empty building now that his mother has headed off to work.

Just like always, his room is a mess. Scattered clothes lie in wrinkled piles on the floor, and as he crosses the distance to lie down on his unmade bed, something crinkles under his weight. He squirms around, fishing underneath himself until he pulls out a crumpled-up fashion magazine. Squinting at it, Josuke goes ramrod stiff when he recognizes it for what it is.

Because no, it’s not just any fashion magazine— it’s the fashion magazine. The very same one he’d ripped in half not so long ago, and triggered this entire disaster, all because he couldn’t face the concept of maybe hurting Okuyasu’s feelings. All because he was a stupid wimpy homo the whole time, and couldn’t even stomach admitting it to himself.

Unexpected rage boils up in Josuke’s throat, and with a fearsome scowl, he balls his fists and tears the magazine in two all over again. His eyes sting as he continues his rampage, taking out his torrent of emotion on the fragile paper until he’s left with a pile of shreds flaking out from between his fingers and scattering like cherry blossoms to the floor.

“Stupid— stupid, stupid, stupid!” he howls, flinging the tatters across his bedroom and flopping over to shove his face into his pillows. His eyes burn shamefully hot, and he squeezes them shut, forcing the wetness to dry up as hard as he can.

“Dora.”

Blinking through the glaze over his eyes, Josuke rolls over. Kneeling next to his bed is, of course, Crazy Diamond— because why would he ever be given a moment of peace? Twinkling with a familiar golden glow, his Stand cups the scraps of paper in its hands, tenderly watching on as it restores the magazine back to being whole.

“This— this is all your fault,” Josuke croaks out. Crazy Diamond looks up at him, gently reaching over to set the restored magazine back on his bed. “If you could have just— just— not...”

“Dora...”

“I hate you.”

Ping.

Both Josuke and his Stand look up at the sharp sound. Something inside of him complains mightily at it, not wanting to be roused from his misery, and he huffs and folds half a pillow over his face.

Ping ping ping ping—

“Ugh, shut up!” he moans, punching his mattress. After a few seconds of blessed silence, he exhales and lets his limbs go slack, trying to breathe out as much tension as he can. Maybe he’ll feel a little better if he takes a nap...

“YO, JOSUKE! DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME?!”

Josuke sits bolt upright, instantly recognizing the gravelly shout. A brief war rages between the overwhelming joy that washes over him and the sinking dread that’s already made a home in his gut, freezing him in place like a marble statue.

“SERIOUSLY, MAN, I’M COMIN’ UP IF YOU WON’T—”

“All right!” Josuke screams back, the threat of being imposed upon rousing him from his momentary stupor. Crazy Diamond lingers behind him as he scrambles over to his bedroom window, flinging it open and leaning out to look down at his backyard. “What the hell is it?!”

Of course, it couldn’t be anybody else. Okuyasu is standing there, a bit red in the face, one hand full of grit from the driveway. Once he sees Josuke, however, he tosses it to the side and grins half-heartedly up at him. Josuke strangles the way his heart flutters at the sight with one hand and hopes it rots. “Heh, sorry, you just weren’t really responding...”

“It’s fine. What do you want?” Josuke knows he’s being needlessly terse. He sees it flicker across Okuyasu’s face and regrets it, but there’s no taking back his tone now. “You’re all flushed, dude.”

“I really really really need your help! Like, right now!” Clearly nervous, Okuyasu shifts from foot to foot, giving Josuke his biggest, wettest pleading eyes. “It’s kind of an emergency, I mean not too much of one but kind of, so I’ll tell you on the way!”

Personal crisis or not, the word ‘emergency’ is enough to make Josuke start leaning out his window— but then he remembers his sorry state and stops in his tracks. “Uh, my hair—”

“You always look handsome, bro! Come on, come on...”

It takes a second for Josuke’s brain to process what he heard, and another ten to recover from how his heart stops afterward. Okuyasu wiggles with nerves below as Josuke stammers out nonsense, eventually stumbling his way into “Okay, okay, give me like, five minutes!”

“Hurry!” Okuyasu whines, his voice following Josuke into his room as he pushes past an eagerly watching Crazy Diamond, fading away in his haste. He manages to find a can of hairspray and wrangles himself into looking semi-acceptable before he slips his flip-flops on. Six minutes later, he’s out the door, nearly falling face-first into Okuyasu’s broad chest.

Thankfully, he isn't given enough time to work himself into any further frenzy, because as soon as he crosses the threshold Okuyasu is pulling him down the street. "Come on, this way! Quick!"

Josuke shakes off his nerves and manages to find his footing, the pair of them racing off with the type of energy only possessed by frantic teenagers on a mission. Running is strangely soothing. With every step he takes, Josuke feels the tension weighing down on him slough off and disappear, burning away with the lactic acid in his muscles.

Of course, Okuyasu next to him is just as reassuring, a counterbalance to Josuke's world that he's been sorely missing. Feet pounding on the pavement in an easy sync, he tilts his head over and eyes his best friend. “So what’s going on?! You still haven’t told me!”

Okuyasu doesn’t even look over, focused entirely on keeping his speedy pace as he talks. "It's Angelo! Some customers got too drunk today, and they made such a racket that Angelo started barking at 'em... and they really weren’t happy about that."

"Oh geez," Josuke grits his teeth. Tonio's dog hasn't barked at anyone since he was a puppy, so it must have been pretty severe.

"Yeah! And they harassed him so bad that when they opened the door he just— bang! Out like a flash!" Okuyasu furrows his brow. "I've been lookin' for him all day."

“And...?”

Finally, Okuyasu tilts his head to look at Josuke, mouth set in a grim line. “And I found him.”

Startled, Josuke blinks and looks around. He’s been following Okuyasu with blind confidence, and only now does he notice that they’ve crossed the bridge to the port district, family homes replaced by storehouses and mechanics. They’re already deep into the guts of it too, where the pavement is more cracks than whole and buildings have dusty, shattered windows next to rusted doors. Suddenly, his flip-flops don’t seem adequate protection against the broken glass that sparkles in the gutters.

He’s about to speak up, to ask where the hell Okuyasu is taking him, but before he can, the air is split by a long, low, mournful howl. It turns his stomach, and Okuyasu hisses through his teeth and starts to run even faster. Thankfully, they’re not far from their destination, and the pair of them skid to a stop in front of an abandoned warehouse. 

Framed by sliding doors long since rusted right off their rails and left to rot on the dirt of its lot, the inside of the building yawns open and dark in front of them, the gloom sliced into sections by what little sunlight that manages to creep through holes in the roof. Josuke takes one look at the rafters and grimaces; they’re heavy with years of cobwebs and bowing dangerously close to the floor. Nothing remains of what was once kept here, spare a few desiccated crates claimed years ago by spiderkind and mildew.

Another miserable wail echoes through the space.

“Over there!” Okuyasu points, and Josuke peers into the warehouse and sees it: Angelo, body suspended unnaturally in the air, mud-stained fur matted to his sides. Simple concern for another living creature supersedes his squeamishness, and he rushes past Okuyasu, sprinting over to the dog and manifesting his Stand without a second thought.

As Josuke approaches, Angelo’s eyes flick over to him. Weakly, his tail rises from between his legs and starts to thump against a nearby supporting beam, but despite how much he starts to wiggle, he remains stuck as if frozen in place. Behind him, Josuke hears the thump of Okuyasu’s following footsteps, and he kneels to cup Angelo’s face in his hands.

“Hey, buddy,” Josuke coos, scratching behind Angelo’s floppy ears. He whines quietly and lets Josuke inspect him without a fight, parting his fur to look for any injuries. “What’s going on, huh? Why are you...”

Something shimmers in Angelo’s coat, and Josuke’s blood runs cold with recognition. 

All the while, Angelo has remained with one side pressed to a supporting beam, and now Josuke sees why. Glittering along the line where dog meets wood is a row of familiar red stitches. 

“That Stand user,” Josuke growls, and Crazy Diamond, floating above, balls its fists. Okuyasu’s broad shoulders come into sight as he drops to one knee, joining Josuke in comfortingly rubbing Angelo’s ruff.

“Yeah,” he says, voice cold. “We’ve gotta hunt down the bastard who’s doing this, Josuke. What if they start goin’ after people next?”

“Of course. But let’s get him free first.” 

The Hand manifests in its typical shimmer of blue light, and Josuke stands up in tandem with his best friend as they let their Stands do their thing. For once, Josuke’s anxiety over Crazy Diamond’s behavior is nonexistent, too focused on worrying about Angelo’s safety, and his Stand seems to share that opinion. Its eyes flick over to its peer once, but after that, Crazy Diamond fixes its attention on the dog.

With its pink-and-blue hands only an inch away from Angelo, Josuke grits his teeth and braces himself for the effort, and he’s glad he does. As soon as Crazy Diamond starts working its magic, the expected pressure weighs down on his body like a sack of wet cement, only intensifying as Angelo pulls away from the beam at a glacially slow pace. To the dog’s credit, he only barks once and stays still after it starts.

Josuke tries not to pop a vein in his forehead as the visceral tangle of red threads fill the gap between Angelo and the wood. Unlike the cat and dog in Okuyasu’s shed, Angelo is a decently-sized animal, and the beam, despite being warped with age, isn’t small either. Jaw set with effort, Josuke’s heart thumps in his ears, so loudly that he swears he hears something flap weirdly above his head.

But he can’t care about that— not when Angelo is finally far enough away. Lungs heaving, Josuke manages to bark out: “Okuyasu, now!”

“Gotcha!” WHOOMPH!

The weight digging Josuke into the cracked floor vanishes in an instant, and Angelo falls to the ground with a startled yelp. He prances on his paws for a moment, as if unsure that he can move normally again, and then his tail starts lashing back and forth with enormous enthusiasm. Energy restored with his freedom, he dashes over to wiggle his way in between the two boys’ legs, following a giddy figure-eight pattern. Okuyasu laughs and bows down to ruffle Angelo’s ears.

Unlike last time, Josuke manages to stay on his feet, but the exhausted wave that washes over him makes that much more difficult. Blinking, he smiles down at Okuyasu and Angelo. 

Their Stands are still out. Josuke shakes his head, trying to dispel his sleepiness, and out of the corner of his eye he sees it; Crazy Diamond, smile wide on its face, turning towards The Hand and reaching out with traitorous fingers. His heart goes icy in his chest, and he’s about to turn, to try and dispel his Stand, to try and stop history from repeating itself—

A piercing, high-pitched SQUAAAAWK! slices through the room, shrill enough that Josuke claps his hands over his ears on pure instinct. Angelo goes completely still. And before any of them can even think about moving, something dives down from the ceiling, glowing reddish-orange with the power of a Stand.

“What the—?!” Okuyasu shouts, rising to his feet, but he’s not anywhere near fast enough to stop what happens next. Shrieking with unmitigated fury, a green blur darts towards Crazy Diamond and The Hand, circling around them and deftly dodging The Hand’s attempt at a grab. Red thread follows every move it makes, lingering behind it in a long trail.

A blinding light. Another furious screech. Josuke feels something pull sharply on his sternum, yanking him violently to the side, where he collides with a warm weight.

Stars pop in his vision as the light fades away, and Josuke attempts to shield his eyes. Why is his arm so heavy? He loses his balance, but there’s something next to him, something that falls with him when he topples to land on his ass in the dirt. 

Once his vision clears, the first thing Josuke sees is the goddamn bird.

Flapping in place in front of him is a small green bird with a salmon-orange face, a patch of pink feathers like a heart on its breast. Clasped in its tiny claws is a long needle, threaded with red string. Their eyes meet, and Josuke swears that the bird practically sneers at him before it leans down and snips the thread with its beak, the frayed end fading into nothingness as soon as it begins to fall.

Noticeably pompous, the bird gives a final angry squawk before flapping away, soaring off through the open door and giving Josuke an uninterrupted view of what it’s done.

Still floating in midair is Crazy Diamond and The Hand, closer than they’ve ever been before. Shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm; their sides are pressed completely flush, trapping two of their limbs into one. Glittering along the edge where their bodies meet is exactly what Josuke feared.

A line of red stitches.

“Oh my God,” he breathes. 

Given the amount of things he’s had to deal with in his (admittedly) short life, Josuke thinks he is really very good at not freaking completely out. Growing up without a dad? Yeah, no sweat. Fighting crazy Stand users on the regular? Sure, he can manage that, and he even went to school every day, like the good boy he paradoxically didn’t look like. Hell, he’d fought a serial killer and only spent two weeks in the hospital afterward.

Right now, though? He’s about two seconds away from losing his mind, and he feels like this time, it might be justified.

The summer afternoon is growing a bit long in the tooth as Angelo leads them out of the warehouse, all thick and marigold as it illuminates cracked pavement and dusty windows. Ever patient, Tonio’s trusty dog waits as they shuffle awkwardly towards the street, wagging his tail in slow, sweeping arches. Josuke’s legs hurt.

Because oh no, he’s not just walking with his own considerable bulk. Sweat slips down his spine; the burning-hot proximity on his left side only makes the heat worse as he attempts to pull both himself and Okuyasu along like the world’s most miserable three-legged sack race. 

Despite all of their fervent attempts, their Stands are still stitched quite firmly together, floating a short distance behind them. They can’t even dismiss them— they appear to be a permanent fixture now. And, obviously, that means that Josuke and Okuyasu are similarly affected, even though the thread is only on their Stands and not them. No matter how hard they’ve tried, the pair of them are stuck, sides practically glued together. 

Thus: Josuke losing his mind. Just a bit.

Finally free of the yawning warehouse, Okuyasu leans tiredly against a utility pole. Josuke tilts with him, dragged by his friend’s momentum, and tries very hard to not lose his balance and send both of them sprawling in the dirt all over again. 

“Shit,” Okuyasu mumbles emphatically. In his conscious mind, Josuke agrees, but the two of them are so close that he can’t help but be thoroughly distracted. Okuyasu’s voice at such proximity is deep and gravelly, sending creeping tendrils of excitement down the planes of Josuke’s back. He can feel the rumble traveling through Okuyasu’s body and into his own, vibrating right down to his ribcage, and he could probably take the role of Morioh’s lighthouse with how hot his face is at the sensation. 

“This sucks,” Josuke says instead of all the embarrassing truths rattling around in his skull. “How the hell are we supposed to go anywhere like this?”

“That bird...” Okuyasu mutters. When Josuke looks at him out of the corner of his eye, he spots Okuyasu’s gaze leveled somewhere in the unseen distance, brow furrowed with concentration. “I swear I’ve...”

“Wruff!” Angelo pipes up cheerily, interrupting Okuyasu’s rambling by leaning hard against their conjoined legs. He looks up plaintively and woofs again, and even in the depths of his anguish, Josuke huffs a laugh. Next to him, Okuyasu chuckles.

“He’s right, y’know,” Okuyasu says. “We should get him home.”

“Home?!” Angling his head as harshly as he can in an attempt to display his indignation, Josuke spreads his free arm in a loose gesture at their connected bodies. Over their heads, Crazy Diamond makes a similar movement, albeit less aggravated. “Did you forget, man? I don’t think we can get ourselves home, let alone to Tonio’s!”

“Well, we can’t stay here,” Okuyasu fires back. “It sucks out in this neighborhood at night. C’mon, dude, we can figure out somethin’ as easy as walking! How hard can it be?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never had to drag someone else around to do it!”

“I’m not gonna just stand around ‘cause you’re too much of a coward to try and move!”

“You’re not getting anywhere without me, so maybe you can shut the hell up—”

“RRRRAUF!”

Argument cut unexpectedly short, Josuke and Okuyasu blink and look down at the ground, where Angelo is standing in front of them, legs splayed and hackles raised. A sinuous shiver travels down the length of his spine, canine body shaking with aggression as he bares his teeth. Neither of the teenagers can even stop to ask the dog what’s wrong before an earsplitting screech answers them.

Diving down from its perch on a telephone pole across the street, a green blur soars over their heads and off into the distance, the bird’s wings beating furiously as it attempts to escape. With a savage growl, Angelo sets off running after it.

“Oh shit! The—” Josuke manages to say before the Technicolor shapes of their attached Stands appear in front of them, blocking the view. Crazy Diamond seems surprised, but The Hand is already moving, leaning over like an Olympic sprinter and raising its glowing right hand high in the air.

WHOOMPH!

The air is snatched violently from Josuke’s lungs as he’s propelled forwards by the space-destroying swipe, dragged behind the stitched-together Stands with furious intensity. He yelps, heart thundering in his ears, and the tip of his flip-flop catches briefly on the cracked asphalt before The Hand sweeps down again. The velocity is crazy intense; Josuke feels weightless with each gesture until the force of gravity can catch up with them. Angelo is much closer now, the bird still ahead.

“Watch— Okuyasu, hold on!” Josuke screams. 

“I’m gettin’ that damn bird!” Okuyasu bites back, eyes fixed in an enraged scowl at the distant green dot. “Don’t try and stop me, Josuke!”

“I’m not, we’re just gonna—!”

For whatever reason— either Okuyasu’s frantic actions or the unfamiliar extra weight— The Hand’s next swipe yaws downwards. Suddenly much closer to the ground, Josuke’s feet scrape the street, and he snarls as he loses his balance. Grit burns against his skin as the pair of them tumble to earth. Neither animal even pauses.

Through some miracle, Crazy Diamond manages at the last second to save them, flipping both itself and The Hand around in one quick movement and catching Josuke before he can fall flat on his face. Okuyasu similarly thumps into his own Stand’s chest. “Wha—?”

Josuke watches their rapidly vanishing prey and finds that there isn’t much room left in him for emotional torment, not anymore. Hot blood drips down his calves as he drags Okuyasu and himself to their shared feet, ignoring the way his best friend wobbles. “You wanted to move, man?”

“Yeah—”

“Well, let’s figure this thing out,” Josuke growls, and surges forwards.

It’s a close thing for a second. Okuyasu makes a choked noise and they nearly topple all over again, but like a lock sliding perfectly into place, he adjusts himself, letting Josuke move their shared leg in tandem. His free leg hits the pavement in time with Josuke’s, and just like that, they’re sprinting as one, bodies aligning in space.

Crazy Diamond and The Hand follow close behind as the pair of them fall into a rhythm. Every stride brings Okuyasu’s strong-boned face into Josuke’s gaze, visible always out of the corner of his eye. Balance, counterweight, step together as one and then again; he doesn’t look over, but Josuke doesn’t really need him to. 

Underneath the pounding of shared feet on concrete, Josuke’s heart starts to shine.

Angelo’s frenzied barking guides them in their pursuit. At first, Josuke is certain that the bird is going to flee straight forwards, but much to his surprise, the trail turns west and starts to follow the river after only a block or so. Poorly maintained warehouses turn into gaps between increasingly far-apart homes, greenery filling up cracks in the road and swallowing up the more distant horizon. 

They continue, following the shape of the dog ahead of them as the roads bleed into dirt at their edges. Angelo leads them off-street quickly enough, fording through high grasses and ditches that almost make his pursuing teenagers break their ankles, until he jumps into a thicket and disappears. With nowhere else to go, Josuke and Okuyasu follow.

On the other side of the brush is a copse of trees, far enough apart to have been planted by hand, but clearly left to the whims of nature in past years. Wide gaps between the crowns expose slices of the golden sky above, making a patchwork of sunlight on the grass. Despite how sparse the ground cover is, Josuke scans the area and sees no trace of Angelo, so he starts to slow down.

Coming to a halt is a bit unsteady, both of them swaying like reeds until they can find stability, but they manage. They pant in unison after such an extended run. “What’s goin’ on, Josuke?”

“Isn’t this close to Tonio’s?” Josuke asks, once he’s caught his breath. Okuyasu blinks and looks around. 

“Hey, yeah!”

“And I can’t see the dog any more... you don’t think he went back home, do you?” 

“Geez! Hope not!” Cupping his free hand around his mouth, Okuyasu bellows, “C’meeere, Angelo!”

“Ow! Hey, watch the volume, dude!” Josuke winces, and Okuyasu grins sheepishly.

“Heh, sorry. Forgot. Uh... so what now?”

A gentle summer breeze catches the leaves around them, cooling the sweat on Josuke’s skin and bringing the sound of distant birdsong with it. His heart begins to slow from its high-energy rhythm, and without the rush of adrenaline in his veins, the seam where he and Okuyasu meet is burning hot. Josuke can practically feel the crimson strings that hold them together thrumming with a pulse, but he can’t tell if it’s Okuyasu’s or his own. 

Crazy Diamond’s gaze is driving needles into his back, but Josuke ignores his Stand and jerks his head forwards. “Guess we better start looking for the mutt. Come on.”

Despite what his mother says, he and Okuyasu aren’t strangers to being quiet around each other. Countless comfortable nights and lazy days of simply sharing each other’s space has given them a familiar, communal silence, one Josuke can’t ever remember having with anyone else. In the past few days, he’s missed that mutual peace terribly, having only a lonely quiet to keep him company. 

All that makes Josuke painfully aware that the silence between them now is wildly different. 

They manage to move together seamlessly enough, scanning the area with their joined Stands hovering behind them, and the August heat isn’t so bad under the shade provided by the trees. On any other day, Josuke would have considered this a nice walk. 

But the tension between them is smothering, making the branches loom ominously overhead and the wide gaps between trunks seem far tighter. Every time their eyes almost meet, both of them look away, too fast for it to be a mistake. It’s a bit hard to see his expressions at his angle, but Josuke can still tell that Okuyasu wants to say something... but isn’t. For someone so outspoken, typically to a near-foolish degree, it’s unsettling to see his best friend gnawing on his words.

Unfortunately for both of them, Josuke doesn’t much feel like talking either. So they walk, and every so often one of them will half-heartedly call out for Angelo, their voices small in the face of so much discomfort.

In sharp contrast, of course, is their Stands behind them, because Josuke is incapable of not being tormented. Crazy Diamond is happy as a two-tailed dog, a broad grin plastered on its typically stern face as it takes full advantage of the situation to cozy up with The Hand. Despite the spikes on its fellow Stand’s thick shoulder pads, Crazy Diamond doesn’t seem afraid to rest its head there, peering up past the ridge of its helmet to make puppy-dog eyes at The Hand. Josuke frowns as he watches the display, so sickeningly saccharine that he’s tempted to faux-gag, but before he can do anything, The Hand moves. 

Tilting its head to get a better look at Crazy Diamond, the two Stands stare each other down, The Hand’s emotions impossible to glean from its blank eyes and permanent frown. But as Josuke looks on, The Hand reaches over— very slowly— with its dangerous free hand, and brushes the tip of Crazy Diamond’s chin with two fingers. Its expression doesn’t change, but the gesture is so obviously tender that Josuke goes red. 

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice Okuyasu’s drawn to a halt until he stumbles forwards, only caught by how firmly his best friend is standing upright. Confused, he rubs at his face best he can, trying to dispel the blush on his cheeks, and looks over. “What’s going on?”

“I, uh, I wanna talk.” He’s looking away, but close as they are, it's easy to see the hurt on Okuyasu's face. Josuke's whole torso aches in kind. 

“Okay...” he mumbles. Neither of them say anything for an agonizing minute, the air between them filled with nothing but the sound of the wind through the leaves.

Finally, Okuyasu clears his throat. “Dude... are we having a fight?”

Pressing his lips in a tight line, Josuke kicks at a loose pebble with his free leg. He misses. “No.”

“Then what’s happening!?” Okuyasu whips his head around, spurring Josuke to look back, and when he does, Okuyasu’s eyes are wet with unshed tears. “You’re bein’ weird, and I don’t get it! Running off, yelling at me... and I haven’t seen you around lately either! I’m not so smart, so you’ve gotta be clear with me, okay?!”

Josuke tries and fails to swallow down the fear that rises hot and salty in his throat. “No, no— don’t say that, you’re not—”

“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, so I acted like nothin’ was wrong, but if I fucked up you can just tell me and I’ll do better,” Okuyasu pleads. Josuke can’t seem to keep enough air in his lungs. 

“You didn’t do anything—”

“Did somethin’ happen to you? Can you not tell anybody!?”

“Nothing happened, calm down—”

“Then tell me, please! I’m too dumb to figure this out on my own, Josuke!”

Stars pop in Josuke’s vision.

“Crazy Diamond’s bein’ so nice, and you’re being so weird—”

Blood roars in his ears.

“If you’re just playin’ around, that’s not very nice, but I’m—”

All of his muscles tense.

“Please don’t—”

Josuke screws his eyes shut and finally, finally says it.

“I’M GAY.” 

Silence.

More silence.

He can’t bear to look at Okuyasu’s face, the disgust that must be in his eyes, so he doesn’t.

The moment stretches on, and on, and—

“You’re... gay?”

“...Yeah,” Josuke manages to choke out. 

“For, uh, how long?”

It’s a weird question. Despite himself, Josuke’s eyes flutter open. “What?”

“Um, I dunno, it’s just... Big bro always said that stuff was always a phase?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Josuke can see him— trying to slouch, but he can’t, cheeks going steadily more red as he rubs the close-shorn back of his neck with his free hand. But nothing on Okuyasu’s face reads like disgust or shame or horror.

For the first time in what feels like forever, something in Josuke’s chest lets go, and his heart glows. “Are you asking me how long I’m gonna be gay for?”

“I, uh, guess so! I mean, I’ve never really talked to any gay people before, so—”

Laughter, bubbling up in the spaces where there was once only fear. “I mean, forever, probably! I think, um, I think I’ve always been, I just didn’t realize until recently...”

“Oh, really?” Okuyasu is looking at him now, really looking, curious to a fault just like he always is and Josuke could sing. “How did you figure it out?”

Oh. Josuke loses his words as he realizes that the next admission is a whole different can of worms, but apparently he doesn’t need to say anything at all. “Dora!”

They both look behind themselves. Graced with a beatific smile, Crazy Diamond nuzzles sweetly into The Hand, and the other Stand returns the favor, bumping the tops of their heads together in clear affection. And Josuke sees it on his best friend’s face— that so-rare moment where Okuyasu’s thoughts allow him to connect the right dots at the right time.

“Yuh— you— like... me?” Okuyasu squeaks, gravelly voice pitching to helium balloon, and Josuke’s going to burn to a crisp with how pink he must be. 

“I— you don’t— it doesn’t have to— I’m not—!”

“I LIKE YOU TOO,” Okuyasu bellows, but he does it with his eyes open. Even with his eardrums popping, Josuke can’t tear his gaze away. Both of them are crimson to their hairlines, words failing as they stare each other down, and Josuke nearly feels dizzy. His head is full of clouds and his hands are sweating and his heart glows, glows, glows, glows.

Neither of them manage to say anything at all, because before they can get over themselves, the brush nearby starts to shake. Their eyes snap to it, and out bounds none other than Angelo, panting with exertion, sticks caught in his fur and a strange blue-green smear sticking out of his mouth.

“Angelo!” Okuyasu cries, and Josuke follows as he sinks to his knees, welcoming the dog with open arms. “We’ve been lookin’ all over for you, buddy!”

Still fuzzy inside, Josuke buries his hands in Angelo’s scruff, and the dog woofs tiredly at him. He seems exhausted from running so far, but he lets Josuke rub his ears and look closely at what’s sticking out from between his teeth. Something pings in Josuke’s memory at the sight, and he shakes himself off, trying to refocus on the task at hand instead of the soft feelings threatening to swallow him whole. “Hey, hey, Angelo, that’s a good boy! Okuyasu, check it out!”

Gritting his teeth, Josuke reaches up and pulls out the offending object from Angelo’s slobbery maw, trying not to gag at the excessive dog spit. Okuyasu leans forward to get a better look. “What is it?”

It’s limp with slime, but Josuke holds it up, Crazy Diamond reaching over his head to surround it in sparkling light. “Dude, it’s part of a feather! Angelo must have nipped it off the thing’s tail, and that means—”

Suspended in midair, the feather suddenly darts off into the glade. The pair of them stand up and, like a perfect machine, launch into running as one. Okuyasu is grinning now, and Josuke’s face is incandescent as he grins right back, any trace of exhaustion gone. He could run for years on that smile alone, let it fill him with light forever and ever.

Together, they follow the feather through the trees, dodging between trunks and crushing bushes underfoot until the ground starts to slant upwards. As the hill grows beneath their feet, they emerge from the copse and scramble up, to where the crown of the incline is occupied by a tree with wide branches and thick bark. Its shape is almost circular, the trunk splitting into two main segments that nearly meet at the top, a naturally-grown window to the horizon.

The feather disappears into the tree’s leaves. Josuke and Okuyasu come to a halt, looking up at where it vanished, but they don’t have to wait for long.

With a rustle and a piercing squawk, the bird dives down from the branches, clutching the long needle of its Stand with both tiny feet. It starts to loop around them, its beady eyes imperious, and Josuke glares right back. “That stupid bird—! Okuyasu, let’s—”

WOOMPH!

The Hand’s signature boom echoes out, and the bird shrieks in panic. For a second, Josuke believes it’s over, that Okuyasu has erased the damned pest from their plane of reality (which is maybe a little harsh), but when he looks behind him, their Stands are still stitched together with red thread. He looks back at his best friend, and...

“I knew I recognized you!” Okuyasu says cheerfully, holding the bird gently in his free hand. It doesn’t look happy to be there, but it doesn’t nip, even when Crazy Diamond and The Hand crowd in to get a look. “You’re one of those, uh... what are they called. Lovebirds! From the pet shop! So cute...”

“Pet shop? Bro, you’re gonna have to fill me in here.” 

“Yeah! I see this little guy every time I go to the pet shop for cat food.” Okuyasu glances back at the tree, then frowns. “But there’s supposed to be two of ‘em. Where’s your buddy?”

The bird wriggles for a moment, but then, with a defeated squeak, flops its head over onto the meat of Okuyasu’s hand. It breathes hard, staring up at the pair of them, and even though its eyes are miniscule, Josuke sees the sadness twinkling there.

“Okuyasu,” he says. “We’ve gotta get to that pet shop, now.”

Running through Morioh with a dog, a bird, and thread still keeping them attached hadn’t been easy, but Josuke is beginning to believe that there’s not much he and Okuyasu can’t do when they’re together. They’d tried their best to avoid any other potential Stand users during their mad dash, Okuyasu guiding them on a somewhat roundabout route down side streets and through public parks. When they finally reach their destination, Angelo has leaves in his fur and both boys are panting.

It’s a cute little store outside the heart of town, all rough around the edges. The windows are a bit musty, and the slowly setting sun reflects off the messy glass, hiding the interior from view. Only the shop’s logo, a fading vinyl graphic of a cartoon dog plastered on the door, is clear.

Still trapped in Okuyasu’s gentle grip, the bird squirms furiously as soon as it sees the shop, tiny eyes drawing to a determined squint. It calls out sharply, jerking its head towards the entrance, and Josuke casts his eyes towards Okuyasu, waiting for confirmation. He nods, face drawn tight, as if they’re about to fight a maniac all over again.

Maneuvering through the door with both of them at once is a bit of a hassle, but the chime of the door bell still sounds like a declaration of war. 

“P— Puh— Peaches?!”

Scowling as mightily as he can muster, Josuke cradles the bird (Peaches, apparently) in his free hand while Okuyasu uses his own to dangle the hapless cashier at least a foot above the ground. Rows of fish tanks and hamster cages surround them, goldfish blinking myopically at the teenagers who have so rudely burst inside. Thankfully, the rest of the store is empty, as they’d arrived only a few minutes before closing time. Angelo snuffles around stacks of bagged kibble somewhere just out of sight.

“So you do know about this bird!” Okuyasu growls, shaking the poor guy a bit. He can’t be much older than them, a college student at most, and compared to Okuyasu’s bulk he looks like a rag doll, all long flopping limbs and wide eyes. “What kinda people toss a cute little lovebird out onto the street, huh?!”

“I— I didn’t want to!” The cashier yelps. “My boss made me do it! Don’t hurt me, please...”

“Your boss? What for?” Josuke asks. Eyes flicking over to him, the cashier gestures limply towards the front, where a wire cage sits close to the door, covered with a threadbare blanket.

“We— we didn’t find out until recently, but both the lovebirds, Peaches and Cream, are males,” the cashier squeaks. “Boss said nobody’d buy two bonded males, and it was better than killing him, so I let Peaches go. I swear, I didn’t want to do it!”

“You—!” Okuyasu pulls the guy closer, but Josuke shakes his head.

“Nah, bro. We’ve heard enough. Let him go.”

“Josuke...”

He steps towards the door, tugging Okuyasu just a bit, and he feels his best friend shudder before he drops the cashier sprawling on the linoleum. “Fine. Don’t be mean to your animals… dick!”

Peaches squirms furiously in Josuke’s hand as they get closer to the exit— and the cage right next to it. Any price tag is covered by the blanket, but Josuke doesn’t much care. He doesn’t intend to pay.

Crazy Diamond floats behind him, eyeing the cage before raising its sparkling fist. Drawing back its arm, it barks, “DORA!” and punches right through the sheet and the fragile wires underneath, fracturing the wrought iron into tiny shards that suspend themselves in midair. Fishing around inside, it doesn’t take long for Crazy Diamond to make contact with something warm and soft, and the moment it does, it grabs firmly and pulls out. The cage repairs itself as it pulls back, reverting to a complete state with a twinkling crescendo as if nothing had ever happened. The entire process takes less than half a minute, and by the time the cashier has gotten groggily to his feet, Josuke and Okuyasu are sprinting down the street, Angelo trotting along close by.

“Did you get him?” Okuyasu pants. Crazy Diamond triumphantly holds its fist ahead, and with a startled screech, a little green head pops out of the circle of its fingers. Peaches bobs back and forth, calling out to the other bird, and Josuke grins. 

They don’t go anywhere near as far as before, but once the countryside is visible, Josuke and Okuyasu stop at a street corner. His hand is sweaty from holding the lovebird for so long, joints cramping with the strain, and so Josuke and Crazy Diamond raise their arms in tandem and let go.

Surging into the sky, Peaches and Cream flutter up above the teenagers, chasing each other in extravagant loops. Chatter fills the air as the two lovebirds dip towards each other and away again, nuzzling at each other’s beaks as they pass by, their delighted song reaching a passionate peak. Behind the display, the sun starts to set, lining the horizon in a conflagration of color. Okuyasu squints against the light, face split in a broad grin, and Josuke thinks his face might ache from smiling for the rest of his life.

A surge of light and sound surrounds Peaches and his Stand appears in his claws. Turning it around, the lovebird swipes the needle up towards them, and just like that, the red stitches disappear in a shower of crimson sparkles. Finally freed, Josuke steps away from Okuyasu, stretching his once-frozen limbs and rubbing pins and needles away. His best friend’s body heat lingers where they touched, the ghost of sensation.

Looking distinctly pleased, Peaches chatters amicably at the pair of them, diving down close enough to flutter his wings towards their faces. The soft breeze against his cheeks makes Josuke laugh, shooing the bird away with a playful swipe of his hand, and Crazy Diamond reaches forwards to trace a finger over the top of Peaches’ soft head. After repeating the gesture with Okuyasu, and a grateful chirp towards The Hand, Peaches flaps up and away, joining Cream where he’s been flying in patient loops above.

“Goodbye!” Okuyasu calls out towards the two lovebirds as they fly off, disappearing into the setting sun. “Take care!”

“Don’t get in any more trouble!” Josuke cries, and he thinks he hears a lovebird’s shrill cry in response, but it’s gone too fast for him to really tell.

And then, it’s just the two of them, alone in the golden light.

Well— not quite alone. Angelo walks up, seemingly tired after such a long journey, and leans heavily against Okuyasu’s legs, panting. And, of course, their Stands have lingered, falling back behind them. Josuke doesn’t have to look back to feel Crazy Diamond settling into place, the turmoil in his heart ceasing with a sense of rightness that has been absent for far too long. No, he doesn’t look back at all. He’s too busy looking at Okuyasu instead.

His face is bright, jewel-toned in the thick Morioh sunset, and Josuke can finally look at him. 

He barely feels their Stands fade away, finally dismissed, as he creeps closer and lets himself stare in a way he’s never done before. Guiltless, as his eyes follow the swell of Okuyasu’s muscles and the way his brows crinkle. It’s like he can breathe freely for the first time, as his best friend turns and catches him in the act, grin turning soft and flustered at the edges.

“Hey,” Okuyasu mumbles, rough voice tender. 

“Hey,” Josuke repeats back to him. His tongue is thick, heavy in his mouth, but when he draws himself up to his full height it isn’t hard at all to speak through it. “Listen... I’m sorry.”

“Huh? What for?”

“I was being a real tool. I shouldn’t have just— you know, freaked you out like that.” Cheeks burning, Josuke rubs at the back of his head, flattening his cowlicks down. He wants to look away, but he refuses. “I’m not... This is all just, um, really new to me. It’s kind of a lot.”

“Bro...” Okuyasu’s eyes go all wet and wobbly, and he reaches out, faltering halfway, as if unsure where to put his hand. “It’s okay. Um, are you... scared?”

Josuke is a lot of things right now. Dizzy, elated, nauseous, invincible. Relieved, free, an ache subsiding for the first time in his whole life, body parts freed from chains he didn’t even know were chafing.

“Yeah,” he says, honestly. “...a little bit.”

That part maybe isn’t quite as honest.

“Me too,” Okuyasu sighs, exhaling deeply, like admitting it took all the air in his lungs. He takes a moment to inhale again, steadying himself. “But... we can talk about it now, right? We.. we got each other now. You and me, the unbeatable duo, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Josuke replies, smile creeping back onto his face. “Hell yeah, man! Unbeatable, that’s us, now ‘till forever.”

Okuyasu flushes hard at that, and so does Josuke, when he realizes what he just said— but somehow, as they laugh through their flustered stammering, it doesn’t feel bad. No, Josuke can see the sunlight thick on his skin, and he feels like it’s emanating from deep within.

Momentarily forgotten at their feet, Angelo woofs quietly, and bumps his head against Okuyasu’s knees harder than before. He looks down, surprised, and rubs between the dog’s ears.

“I gotta take Angelo back,” he says. Josuke is lighter than air.

“I’ll walk you.”

“Bro, your mom will get mad if you come home after dark!”

“Don’t care,” Josuke replies. They’ve been attached for hours, but he nudges close anyway, fingers almost touching, the memory of contact still resting on his skin. He’s giddy, effervescent, made of light from head to toe.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Okuyasu replies. For a moment, his eyes flick away, blush blooming over his cheeks all over again— but then he moves, tangling their hands together, and it’s electricity down Josuke’s spine, scary and new and untethered. “Somebody’s gotta keep you from getting in trouble.”

Neither of them let go all the way there, like their fingers are sewn together with crimson thread.

MORIOH LANDMARK #10: LOVEBIRDS’ TREE

Rumor says that if you take your crush to this tree and sprinkle some seed for the birds living there, you’ll be drawn to each other like magic. But be careful! If you disturb them, the birds will attach you to someone you hate!