Chapter Text
After everything that has happened, anyone who has even heard of a dangerous Stand user would feel some mental affect, such as thoughts if they ever came face-to-face with one, nightmares about them, or even sudden memory attacks or nightmares if one has faced a dangerous, and even potentially fatal, Stand.
And no-matter how proud he may seem or act, Kishibe Rohan is one of these people. And, yes- he’s had his fair share of seeing a cat resembling Stand pressing a thumb down onto it’s closed fist and catching Rohan on the radius of a blast, but this wasn’t one of those visions.
No.
This was him suddenly getting a memory.
It started out quite normally, of course. Rohan was sitting in his living room, flexing his fingers after hours of finishing the next two chapters of Dark Pink Boy . And, of course, he is now two months ahead of schedule unless the publishers suddenly decide to publish two chapters at one go, like they’ve done so often in the past to keep him on his feet and his readers more excited. He’s randomly flipping through some TV channels, settling on the news. The anchors were near the end of being shown how to make a “special kind of udon , but afterwards, they will probably go back to what has been happening lately.
And then the door bursts open.
Rohan grins.
There, walking into his house, is none other than Koichi. The blue-eyed teen beams at Rohan, who nods at him.
“Ooh~ what are you watching, Rohan-sensei?” He inquires, and Rohan’s eyes land on the small bag in Koichi’s hand.
“The news” he dryly says. It’s not as if it’s that interesting at the moment. An anchor finally announces the end of the cooking segment, only, to Rohan’s dismay, to go to the weather. From previous experience, Rohan knows that this channels meteorologist is especially enthusiastic about his job, as if explaining the weather was especially entertaining to the entirety of the population. As if to make his day even worst, Koichi leaves the door open. Rohan only manages to hold in the twitch of his eye. The level of horridness increases as Josuke and Okuyasu waltz into his home, uninvited. Well, Josuke waltzes in- Okuyasu at least has the decency to have his hands sheepishly tucked into his pockets. The latter closes the door behind him, just as Koichi goes to the middle of room after Rohan’s reply to his inquiry, pulling out a singular thing out of the bag:
A bright red box with the words “Pocky” printed across it in large, white print with a small subtitle of “chocolate”. It makes Rohan remember him and Koishi wandering into that one alleyway those so many weeks ago, where Reimi had offered them a Pocky stick. Come to think of it, why did a ghost have a box of Pocky? He’d have to go over to Tonio’s sometime in the next few days.
Sugimoto Reimi. After Kira’s defeat, she had decided to stay a little bit longer to see them all settled in and give some of them, such as Josuke and Koichi (and Rohan) time to get ready for her passing on to the next world at last. Most of Morioh’s Stand user’s had grown rather fond of her. And when she had started floating, Hazamada had just come running pulling with a life-sized duplicated of Reimi doll and Arnold made of bone porcelain, and they had had all just stared at the teen with shock. Reimi even descended back to the ground a litterbit with Arnold at her side, the dog tilting his head with curiosity. Hazamada, turns out, had developed his powers a little bit more. He made his Stand possess Arnolds replica-doll first, complete with fur and glass eyes and everything, and made Arnold’s spirit disappear. And Reimi had screamed, but then Hazamada’s Stand reappeared at his side and the dog doll had started moving on its own, shaking it’s head first before jumping off of the wagon. Rather than the tell-tale sound of porcelain clicking, they heard the sound of paws on concrete. Reimi also disappeared, and her doll started moving, mouth opening in shock before closing before the soft-pink haired girl started to cry. Rohan, in his shock, had also started leaking silent tears, running home. Later, from Koichi, he heard that Tonio volunteered to house Reimi and Arnold for the time it takes for the Speedwagon Foundation to make her new papers and stuff. When he had decided to visit the newly alive girl and dog, he had been surprised at first to see that Tonio had started to train her in the ways of his style of professional cooking, just as he was doing with Okuyasu. But Rohan has sharp eyes and an even sharper brain, seeing the strong relationship that had formed between his former babysitter and the chef through the soft looks they passed, lingering touches, and easy conversation. Tonio was an interesting person who Rohan had quickly become friends with through his visits to the restaurant, happy to hear about the Italian’s experiences in other countries to expand his culinary skills.
He never told anyone yet about the connection he had to Sugimoto Reimi.
But the Pocky. Why, out of all the snacks had Koichi brought Pocky?
For some reason strange, Rohan has never liked Pocky ever since he was a young child. Even though he pretends as if his childhood never happened, it did- filled with loneliness and moments of joy that happened too rarely. He refused to touch a stick of it, much less eat one. He doesn’t know why. So, as is the behaviour of the great Kishibe Rohan, he simply stares disdainfully at the Pocky for a few moments before turning his attention to Okuyasu and Josuke. He had admitted to Koichi that he didn’t actually dislike the two. Actually, he was fine with Okuyasu- he admired how during their first encounter, he had crawled through a window on the second floor of his manor to aid Koichi; there was also the fact that Okuyasu was supported both himself and his father while acting like a completely normal teenager. And Josuke? He was annoying and he will never forget about the boy sending him to the hospital, taking over two million yen from him, as well as burning down a wing of his house (although that burden somewhat falls on his-own shoulders, as well).
“Hey Rohan!” calls out Josuke. “Don’t mind us!” Oh, the audacity ! Rohan narrows his eyes right at the teen.
“Who invited you ?” He spats. He just invited himself! This is his house, oh, he’s just itching to pull out Heavens Door and-
“Ah! Um, I thought you wouldn’t mind since it was them who wanted to come!” Koichi rushes out, interrupting Rohan’s internal seething. Now he’s curious. Why would Higashika want to come here? Rohan straightens. The weatherman is becoming more and more passionate, his hands waving about so quickly that he can see flashes of the greenscreen.
“Why did you want to come?” Rohan asks, curiosity slipping into his words.
“Well, we were just over at Tonio’s just now” Josuke says, gaze flitting between Rohan and the Pocky box because for some reason, the other two were struggling to open the box. Koichi finally manages it, uncleanly opening the box and ripping a hole down the side. “We convinced Reimi and Tonio to join us for lunch. We had a nice discussion, and then she brought desert. It had Pocky sticking out of it!” Okuyasu snatches the box from Koichi and begins struggling to open the metallic bag inside of it, the only thing separating the Pocky sticks from the outside world. “Anyway,” Josuke continues, starting to reflect the energy of the weatherman on the TV who now seemed manic with his arms going in blurs and frantically going in-depth about the weather of all of Japan, and then the surrounding ocean, and then the eastern coast of East Asia. “So, we started talking about Pocky, and then Koichi was like “Oh, I remember when Rohan and I first ran into you, you wanted to play the Pocky game with us!” And then Okuyasu was like “Has Rohan even had any Pocky before?” So Reimi gave us a box of Pocky- she has a stash of them! And just said that you probably forgot the taste of them and told us to tell you to try them on her behalf!” Rohan just narrows his eyes at him.
“Why would myself never having had Pocky be of any interest to you ?” He says. Josuke shrugs, face turning into one of pity.
“At this point, I think you would do anything to distract yourself from that weatherman.” Rohan turns back to the tv and dear lord the mans glasses are askey, pupils dilated, hair disheveled and voice barely understandable as he finishes the wether report on all of Asia, Polynesia, and Oceania before moving on to Europe and Africa. Rohan doesn’t reply, but the silence only confirms Josuke’s assumption, making him smile.
“THE HAND!” Rohan and Josukes heads snap to the side to see Okuyasu's Stand out. The Stand grabs the pocket packet with its left hand, the right hand grazing the top of it before the Stand disappears, dropping a cleanly opened packet of Pocky into the box in its user’s hands. Okuyasu grins like a little child on Christmas (but not reaching the brightness of Josuke’s smile, Rohan thinks). Okuyasu approaches Rohan with the box of Pocky, Koichi behind him, the gray-haired teen also looking excited.
‘It’s only Pocky. It’s food.’ Rohan tells himself, but the fear still grips him. The feeling isn’t yet as strong at the level the weatherman has reached (he’s at the Iberian Peninsula and West Africa), but its growing. It grips as his throat as he swallows his spit, adams apple bobbing. He quickly gets up from the couch, stepping aside with a slim hand resting on the armest, putting distance between himself and the misleading bright red box, staring at it with a scrutinizing gaze.
Okuyasu laughs and shakes the box, am extended.
“Come on! Try one!” And the dark-blue clad teen just pulls out a stick and puts it in his mouth, loudly chewing. “Oh. Oooh~ th’s is sho guuuuud.” Koichi giggles from his side. Josuke struts to Okuyasu’s side, plucking a thin chocolate coated stick from the box and sticking it out of his mouth like a farmer would a piece of wheat before joining Okuyasu in noisily eating.
“I’ve forgotten how good a good Pocky stick is!” Josuke exclaims, Okuyasu holding the box lower so Koichi can take one, the shorter teen humming in agreement. And Rohan just can’t help but feel dread. But what could be wrong with a stick of Pocky? It was visually pleasing- thin, long, chocolate coating and delicate. And, of course, the great Kishibe Rohan does like chocolate. It was chocolate, and he was being offered it. Why would he refuse? He does want to improve his relations with the people he’s met over the past few months, so why not take a Pocky? He’s heard it was delicious, a treat that people of all ages have enjoyed. He’s even sketched a few Pocky encourages interaction a few times. Reimi has offered him a stick before, but he kept on saying no. The great Kishibe Rohan shouldn’t be afraid of something so trivial. The dark and claustrophobia and other fears are understandable, but why would anyone be scared of a stick of Pocky. And even worst, Josuke was here. Like he’d let the brat have anything over himself!
The weatherman, if it’s even possible, has gained an even greater vigour. Rohan just stares at the box in Okuyasu’s outstretched hand. He quickly glances down at Koichi, who looks so hopefully. Even Josuke does, with those large puppy eyes filled with an impossible amount of hope. He never knew anyone could have eyes that expressive. Rohan fixes his posture and reaches over, taking a single stick from the box. He holds it up to his eyes, examining-
He held the Pocky in front of his large, curious, green eyes with his small hands. Reimi had been so kind. He never had Pocky before, and he was probably on his eight stick!
-it. Rohan blinks, and the three look as if nothing just happened. What. . .was that?
“Ooh, come on Rohan-sensei!” Kishibi exclaims, bouncing up and down. Rohan feels his face soften just a tiny bit.
“You never really had Pocky before?” Josuke enquires. Rohan shakes his head, brown twitching once as he turns the stick.
“I have” he says, “it was over a decade ago. I’ve forgotten the taste of it, as well as the fact that I’ve ate it before.” THe dread increases as he moves it towards his opening mouth, feeling as if Kujo Jotaro’s Star Platinum suddenly came and slowed down time rather than stop it.
Crunch .
He takes a bite of the Pocky, slowly crunching on it. The rest of of the stick in his hand.
“It’s good, isn’t it. Isn’t it good?” Josuke asks, teeth flashing as he finishes a second stick. Rohan hums in agreement.
“Yes it i-” his voice cuts off as the taste of packaged chocolate and dried bread hits his tongue. The fear takes a paralyzing hold of him. He swallows what was in his mouth, the half-eaten stick in his hand slipping from his hand and falling to the ground.
“It’s that good?” Okuyasu exclaim. “Oh, I think Rohan just found a new favourite food, don’t ‘cha think?” Koihi nods.
“I never knew food could affect you this much.” Koichi says. But Rohan isn’t listening. Everything sounds like a jumbled mess, the voices of Okuyasu and Koichi fading first. Then it’s the enthusiastic weatherman, and then Josuke’s, his words the last one’s he hears as he sees a blurred hand wave across his face, in between his face and one with concerned blue eyes.
“Rohan? Hey, man.” His voice fades, the teen turning to the other thing. “Something’s wrong-” and Rohan falls. He doesn’t black out, not at all. His eyes stay open, and he sees something no one else never saw or even knew about.
Rohan just. . .fell.
Josuke could immediately tell that something was off. He had suddenly cut off and stiffened. And Josuke knew that it wasn’t from how good it tasted. No, it was something else. He had stepped closer to the young man, waving his hand in front of his eyes. They were open, but for the first time even, Josuke finally understood what people meant by eyes being unseeing. That described Rohan’s eyes as concern gripped Josuke’s heart. He turns to Okuyasu and Koichi. “Somethings wrong-” and then Rohan fell.
Josuke catches him under his arms. Are people supposed to be this light? His knees just graze the ground and Josuke gently moves an arm under his knees and another under his back, lifting him up. His arms are limp, but his body is stiff. His eyes remain open, pupils expanding and contracting like a heart to its own beat.
“Is he alright?” Koichi exclaims. “Is he hurt?” Josuke lays him on the couch and turns off the tv, the weatherman becoming too much now, the other anchormen dragging him away as he frantically yells about Scandinavian temperatures. It’s quiet. Rohan’s mouth is slightly parted, breaths steady. Josuke summons Crazy Diamond, the pink Stand resting his hands on Rohan’s chest, a slight gold glow emitting from his hands. Josuke furrows his brow.
“No. There’s nothing broken or sick about him. This isn’t because of some st-” Rohan blinks, and Josuke holds the hope that he’s awake. His eyes are still unseeing. But Rohan’s mouth opens, unpainted lips shaping words.
“Where are we going?” Rohan says, voice soft and sounding so small. All three of them blink. What ?
“Rohan?” Josuke asks with worry.
“Thank you for the Pocky, RemRem” Rohan says, and this is just getting creepy. What was going on?
“Okuyasu- call Jotaro. He may know what to do.” Okuyasu’s eyes widen.
“But Jotaro’s a marine biologist! What would he know?” That just made Josuke more frazzled. Koichi helps him out.
“Then call Tonio” Koichi says. “He can tell a persons problems based off of how they look. If you describe Rohan-sensei well enough, he can say what’s gong on.” Okuyasu brightens.
“Good idea!” Okuyasu turns to Josuke, who nods and tosses his cell phone to his friend, who immediately flips it open. “Dang it. What’s his number?”
“It’s under “Tonio and Reimi” in my contacts.”Josuke says. Rohan’s breathing starts to speed up, and Josuke tries shaking him lightly to get him to wake up. “Come on- wake up!”
“R-RemRem?” Rohan starts to shiver, no, tremble- Josuke can tell that it’s not the cold touching the skin exposed by his crop top and green jacket over it that is making him shiver. “W-wait. Th-thats. . .are your parents asleep? Why are they covered in red paint?” Josuke stiffens. Red. . .paint? No. This was getting creepy.
“RemRem?” Rohan weakly says, breathing harsher now. “I-is that y-your dog? Why is he hanging in the closet?” Koichi stiffens, frowning.
“A dog hanging from a closet” he says to himself before turning to Josuke. “That was how Kira killed Reimi’s dog. And “RemRem”. . .that could be Reimi.”
“So what your saying is that he’s dreaming about how Reimi died?” Josuke asks, shocked. Koichi nods.
“I don’t know why, though. Reimi telling him what happened must of really stuck with him, taking inspiration from real-life and stuff. He probably thinks about it too much and it came back to bite him.” Koichi tries to act calm, but does it badly, the worry outshining anything else.
And thats then. This is now. Rohan twists and he starts screaming , a blood curdling, hoarse thing, tears starting to trail down from his ever-open, dulled eyes, dilated in pure fear. His hands falls to his side and he claws at the couch, trying to bury himself into the corner.
“NO! NO!” he screams, voice scratching at his throat. Josuke can’t held it, and just walks over and leans forward, enveloping Rohan in a tight, hopefully grounding hug, bearing the screaming, rubbing circles into his exposed lower back.
“Come on Rohan, it’s just a dream.” He says, remembering the times Tomoko would comfort him after a nightmare. But it doesn’t help. Rohan just keeps on brokenly sobbing, eyes never blinking.
“Th-there’s a man there. REMREM, HE HAS A KNIFE! We need to run! Why aren’t your parents talking to the man? REIMI!” he screams, and it seems like he just broke . He stops screaming and falls limp into Josuke’s arms, harshly flinching, and still sobbing.
“Okuyasu, hurry up!” Josuke yells.
“I just found it!” Okuyasu yells back. He comes running into the room, phone against his ear. Josuke holds Rohan against his chest, feeling the warm tears seeping through the shirt and touching his skin. Rohan starts talking again.
“A man put a knife in Reimi’s back. Reimi threw me out the window. A man put a knife in Reimi’s back. Reimi threw me out the window. She threw me out the window. It hurts. But Reimi has a knife in her back and you need to help her. Reimi threw me out the window. Arnold was hanging in the closet and her parents were covered in paint and didn’t stop the blond guy from putting a knife in Reimi’s back. She became red even, but she still threw me out the window. The red like her Pocky box. A man put a knife in Reimi’s back. Reimi threw me out the window. Reimi threw me out the window. Reimi threw me out the window” and he kept on repeating “Reimi threw me out the window”, voice hiccuping with sobs in the beginning before it flattened off, as if he had no emotion, no pitch, his voice a continuous monotone.
“Tonio? Tonio!” Okuyasu cries out with relief, staring at Josuke who looks panicky, Koichi who looks no better, and Rohan who is brokenly repeating the same thing over and over again. “Th-there’s something wrong with Rohan. . .yes, he had the Pocky, tell Reimi thank you. He just suddenly went stiff and fell and he was imagining the night of Reimi’s death and now he’s just sobbing about how he thought she threw him out a window. . .dehydration? No, he’s good, and Koichi made him eat the other day and there’s plates in the kitchen. . .panic attack?. . .No, he’s not responding to any of us. Josuke’s holding him. . .okay, thanks. I’ll tell him to visit Reimi soon.” Okuyasu hangs up the call, and Rohan’s sobs have been reduced to silent tears. Josuke separates from the older man, gently laying him on the couch again.
“What happened?” Josuke and Koichi ask at the same time. Okuyasu blinks.
“Oh yeah. Tonio said that it could either be a hallucination, day terror, or a flashback. But I don’t think it’s a flashback- he wasn’t there when Reimi died.” Okuyasu holds up Josuke’s phone, the latter taking it.
“I’ll make some tea” Koichi says. “He’ll be exhausted after this. He probably won’t remember it.” They suddenly hear movements and turn to see Rohan rolling off of the couch and landing in a crouch, wiping at his tears and looking shaky and paler than usual, eyes red. They stare at each other for only a few moments, Rohan still looking shaken and scared, but at least he was seeing them.
And he runs.
“ Oi ! Rohan!” Okuyasu yells as Rohan, barefoot, skids around the corner and runs into a hallway, Josuke the first to snap out of it and run after the man. Rohan suddenly opens a door, not even looking behind him as he slams the door shut, sending tremors into the walls. Josuke tries the handle, only to see that it’s locked. He curses, Okuyasu and Koichi still at the end of the hall. He stops when he hears a noise. The sound of a garage door opening. He turns to Okuyasu and Koichi, running back down the hall, the front door right in front of him, just a few meters away.
“He’s exiting from the garage!” He cries out, and Okuyasu and Koichi understand, turning around and running out the door, Josuke right behind. They make it in time to see Rohan speeding out of the garage at high speeds on his motorcycle, clothes violently fluttering from the speed, helmet not even on his head.He even left the garage door open, and they watch him speed away.
“We can use his car!” Koichi says. They run to the garage, which is neat and bare of anything except for a few boxes, a bicycle, and his car, a pair of keys on the wall. Josuke grabs the keys and unlocks the car, the three quickly sitting down. Josuke pushes the keys into the ignition, puts the car into gear, presses down on the clutch, and speeds out of the driveway, turning down the same street Rohan had gone down, hoping that by some chance they would him.
“Wait” says Okuyasu. “If he had been dreaming about Reimi, then wouldn’t he probably want to go to her?” Josuke slams down on the brakes,stomping on the clutch and shifting the gear in one fluid motion, turning the car, making another car honk at them, before speeding down the road.
He remembers he remembers he remembered. Kishibe Rohan speeds down the road, shivering, regretting wearing a crop-top upon the assumption that he was going to stay inside this cold day. But then Josuke (when did he become Josuke) and his merry group came with the Pocky. He should of followed his instincts and said no. . .but he had one and he remembered. And he can’t believe he forgot! It was traumatic- he remembers going to psychiatrists and psychologists as a kid, as waking up to nightmares and every little thing reminding him of the trauma he had experienced sixteen years ago a week before his fifth birthday. Even now, he sometimes gets pains in his left side and lower back from the fall out the window. And then he just forgot sometime when he was eight.
He was at Sugimoto Reimi’s house. His parents were out of town, and her parents were kindly babysitting him. It was seven thirty and they had had dinner almost an hour ago. Now, Rohan was playing with Reimi, who he nicknamed “RemRem” and she nicknamed him “RoRo”. She had decided to give him a treat while he played. For a girl about to leave for college and a toddler, they got along surprisingly well. He held the Pocky in front of his large, curious, green eyes with his small hands. Reimi had been so kind. He never had Pocky before, and he was probably on his eight stick at this point. The chocolate coated snack was so good, and he was sure that whenever he would have Pocky in the future, he would remember this amazing, fun day.
“Thank you for he Pocky, RemRem” he says softly, finishing his last stick. Reimi smiles, pocketing the half-full box.
“No worries!” she pats his head of soft green hair. “Anything for you, RoRo. You’re basically my little brother and not a neighbor because of all the times you’ve come over!” Rohan beams. Suddenly, Reimi stops. She becomes quiet. Rohan also becomes quiet, trying to guess what she’s doing. He hears something. Something coming from above them, which is where Reimi’s parents room is.
A steady : drip, drip, drip.
“Rohan” Reimi says, “Come with me.” She holds out her long, slender hand to him, and he takes it with his small, chubbier one. She leaves her rooms lights open, and they walk down the hall, Reimi telling her exactly where to step so that the floors don’t creak. They make their way up the stairs, sticking to the inner side, further from the railing. Rohan tightens his grip as the drip, drip, becomes louder. They enter Reimi’s parents room, illuminated only by a single lamp in the corner of the room. Mister and misses Sugimoto are on the bed and in awkward positions, as if they either fell onto the bed or were thrown onto it, bodies covered in red.
“ W-wait. Th-thats. . .are your parents asleep? Why are they covered in red paint?” Rohan quietly asks, tugging at Reimi’s hand and looking up at her because the scene before him looks so wrong . There are tears in Reimi’s eyes, but they don’t fall, her eyes wide and her grip on Rohan’s hand tighter. “RemRem?” Still holding his hand, she goes to the closet, where the drip, drip, drip is the loudest. She opens the door and she doesn’t even gasp or cry out, just letting out a bitten-out choking sound. There is her beloved dog Arnold, the dog that has protected Rohan from one too many things. He’s just hanging there, like a pig for slaughter, his beautiful fur stained by blood, a clothing hanger around his neck and hooked to the closet pole, a dark, big, deep slit in his unmoving neck. Reimi turns to him and kneels down in her pretty pink dress, gripping him by the shoulders and wiping his silently falling tears.
“Rohan, I want you to be brave.” She says. “From now on, you are the Great Kishibe Rohan, a boy who bows down to nothing and no-one.” He nods.
“I-is that y-your dog’ Why is he hanging in the closet?” Reimi shakes her head.
“Not now, great Kishibe Rohan.” she manages a smile, and Rohan feels like thats the last time he’ll see her smile. Suddenly, there’s a loud creak and Reimi pulls Rohan away from the closet and to the far end of the room, right next to the second floor window. Rohan screams.
“ “Th-there’s a man there.” In the corner of the doorway was a man. His face was shadowed but Rohan could glimpse a flash of blond hair and a glint of metal. He takes a step forward, and he sees that it’s a knife. He knows enough to know that it’s dangerous. “REMREM, HE HAS A KNIFE!” He screams, tugging at her hand. “We need to run! Wy aren’t your parents talking to the man? REIMI!” he screams. The man slowly approaches, head bowed, as if he regrets this. Then the man suddenly lunges and Reimi turns around, effectively blocking him off from Rohan, protecting the boy. She gasps, eyes widening. She turns around and kicks the man and Rohan, to his horror, sees a knife sticking out of her back. She turns back around and kisses his forward, tears falling.
“I’m so sorry, RoRo. Go be great. Do something related to art- your drawing are beautiful. And she scoops him up “I’m so sorry” just as the man comes back at Reimi, knife raised. And Reimi just throws him out the window. He crashes through the glass, cutting his skin, and lands in the flower bushes in front of the house. He lays there before he starts crying, hearing sirens growing louder.
“A man put a knife in Reimi’s back. Reimi threw me out the window.” He can’t believe he survived. What happened to Reimi? He doesn’t even hear a scream or her calling out to him. “A man put a knife in Reimi’s back. Reimi threw me out the window. She threw me out the window. It hurts. But Reimi has a knife in her back and you need to help her. Reimi threw me out the window. Arnold was hanging in the closet and her parents were covered in paint and didn’t stop the blond guy from putting a knife in Reimi’s back. She became red even, but she still threw me out the window. The red like her Pocky box. A man put a knife in Reimi’s back. Reimi threw me out the window. Reimi threw me out the window. Reimi threw me out the window” and he kept on repeating “Reimi threw me out the window.” The police officers come and give him a shock blanket before shipping him to the hospital for treatment for numerous cuts and broken bones, but he keeps on repeating “Reimi threw me out the window. But Reimi has a knife in her back and you need to help her.” He vaguely remembers only saying that when his parents came, making them actually cry about him for once, and he finally snapped out of it a week later.
He thought the thing that just happened to him only happens in books in movies. It turns out it happens in real life, and it took the life of his sister and changed him forever.
Rohan stops in front of Tonio’s restaurant, shivering and pocketing his keys, putting the helmet on the seat. He clutches the front of his jacket, wrapping it around himself. He probably looks like a mess, but he doesn’t care. Tonio’s restaurant has become well-known, and reservations are now needed (except for the Stand Users, who make up all of the chef’s friends). He enters the restaurant, all five tables occupied and filled with customers happily eating. He ignores the stares he gets and spots Tonio finishing refilling a tables glasses, heading back into the kitchen, but then the chef sees Rohan out of the corner of his eyes. The Italian’s eyes widen and he turns. Looking at the disheveled mangaka who’s walking towards him.
“Rohan?” Tonio asks, surprised. “I was on the phone with Okuyasu not five minutes ago. Are you feeling okay?” And Tonio is a genuinely caring man. Rohan can see how Reimi feels the way he does about her. But he can’t. . .he can’t right now. He only learned about that part of his childhood from the old man at the cemetery. Reimi hadn’t mentioned it too him, never saying that she had died to save Rohan. She could of thrown herself out the window and left him, or thrown both of them. But she wanted to guarantee his survival-
And she died.
For him.
And made RoRo into The Great Kishibe Rohan.
“I-I need to see Reimi.” He says, body already trembling again from remembering that night. Tonio can sense this and looks at him.
“Something happened to you, si?” And he doesn’t even expect a reply from Rohan before leading him into the kitchen, not even telling him to sanitize or anything. There’s Reimi, stirring a pot of pasta while adding some spices to a curry.
“Tonio! I added the exact amount of cinnamon and ginger that you told me to!” Reimi has a smile on her face, which grows when she sees Rohan. “Rohan!” She sings, a small smile playing on Tonio’s face, but then she notices the state of the mangaka. “Rohan?”
“I’ll take over” Tonio says. Reimi drops the spoon and goes to Rohan, taking off her apron and putting it on the side. She furrows her eyebrows, looking at him with concern.
“Come with me.” She says. She pulls on her hand, just like she had in his memory, and leads him through a door and into a hallway. “I’ll be in my room” she calls out to Tonio while opening a door and leading Rohan inside. It’s a nice room- soft pinks and white with a framed picture of flowers on the wall. There’s a full sized bed with a soft pink blanket on it, Arnold curled up on it. Upon hearing Reimi and Rohan entering, his ears perk up and he sits up, hopping off the bed to rub against Reimi’s leg before jumping on Rohan, licking at the exposed skin of his neck. Rohan laughs as he’s pushed against the wall, scratching the dog being the ear.
“Good boy, Arnold. Good b-boy” he manages before the word catches in his throat and he sees Arnold with his paws on his chest, but his neck has a deep, bleeding gash with a hanger wrapped around his neck. Arnold whines and nuzzles Rohan’s neck before hopping off, going to Reimi. A tear falls from Rohan’s eyes and Reimi leads him to the bed.
“Rohan, are you okay?” Reimi ask, hands in her lap as she looks at him. Rohan shakes his head and hugs her, resting his head against his shoulders. They stay like that for a few minutes, Reimi shocked at first before wrapping her arms around Rohan, who melts under her arms. She runs her hand through his hair, feeling nostalgic. As a ghost, time was real and didn’t go slower or faster, but she didn’t really feel it. Memories she had made the year before she died felt like they only happened a year ago. So as she runs a hand through Rohan’s hair, she remembers her doing the same when Rohan was a kid, curled up in her arms as she would softly hum or tell him a story. But it’s not as if he remembered that. But then Rohan always did exceed his expectations, although she was a bit shocked as to how much he changed.
“I remember you doing this” Rohan says, voice soft and quiet and slightly muffled as he still holds on to her like a lifeline. Reimi stiffens.
“What?” Rohan hums.
“You sent Koichi and the idiots to my house with a box of Pocky. I felt like I shouldn’t eat it, but the Great Kishibe Rohan doesn’t fear a snack.” Reimi smiles.
“At least you remembered being called the Great Kishibe Rohan, you prideful brat.” She can’t see him from where he rests on her shoulder, but Reimi can just tell that Rohan’s smiling.
“Yeah. I remembered that.” He says, voice just a bit tight. “The Pocky, I don’t know how or why it was Pocky that triggered it, but. . .I remembered that night and parts of my childhood before that. You. . .” he becomes quieter, arms tightening, “I always wondered where my pains came from. You threw me out a window. When you were about to die. I saw you get stabbed !” The poor man who will always be a boy in her eyes sounds hysteric and tightens his hold on her.
“I didn’t have a panic attack or a nightmare. I just. . .relieved a memory. I didn’t remember it, I relieved it. I-I’d probably make a manga strip out of this if it had been anyone else, but I can still hear Arnold’s blood dripping from the closet, smell the blood from all of the dead bodies, and fell the glass cutting into my skin. I-I. . .how did you cope?” He turns his head on her shoulder so that he’s facing her, green eyes big and emotional, free of the stone walls he had put up to block out his emotions.
“Lets get more comfortable” she says. She undoes her pink hair from the bun she had put it in while cooking and kicks off her shoes, moving back so that she’s leaning against the headboard. Rohan moves as well, and she notices that he’s barefoot, the bottoms of his feet red and indented, probably by whatever way he came here. He curls up next to her, long legs curled up and body half in her lap, head in her lap. It was intimate not in the romantic ways of lovers, but in that of siblings, of a sister and a brother. That was how Reimi saw their relationship, and was sure that is how Rohan now remembers it.
“Okay, RoRo” she says. He lets out a small huff of a laugh.
“I always get annoyed when Josu- Higashikata” he corrects “calls me RoRo. I guess it’s because you’re the only one who deserves to use it, RemRem.” Reimi starts stroking his hair.
“You should let him.” She says.
“Do you let Tonio call you RemRem?” She laughs.
“No. He never tried to call me that. He calls me la rosa sometimes. He’s a nice guy.” Rohan hums in agreement.
“This is. . .nice.” They’re silent for a few moments before Reimi starts the conversation again.
“You were wondering how I coped? You need to remember I was a ghost for seventeen years. I still had emotions, but they weren’t as strong, and I could control them. Although I was confined to that alleyway, I still had Arnold. Although he was a ghost, he could still continue to cats and dogs and ask. That’s how I found out about you moving to Morioh. “ Arnold sits up from the floor when he hears his name, jumping onto the bed to curl up by their feet, resting his head on Rohan’s ankles.
“When I still remembered” Rohan says, “I used to have night terrors, panic attacks, and anything could trigger me. I guess I learned when I was little that Pocky was one of the triggers. I remember eating a lot before going to your parents room.” Reimi doesn’t say anything upon him mentioning her parents. “That’s probably why I didn’t want to eat it when Koichi brought the box you gave him- my subconsciousness told me.” Reimi keeps on stroking his hair, silent tears running down her face, although Rohan couldn’t see them.
“If I had known, I wouldn’t of had Koichi insist on you trying some” she said. “I didn’t want you to know about it, much less remember.”
“I knew about it” Rohan says. “The day Koichi and I ran into you in that alleyway, I went to the cemetery afterwards to visit your family shrine. There was an old man there, also, who knew us when I was little. He told me about how I probably didn’t remember, but I had been there that night and you had saved me by throwing me out the window.” Reimi stops her air-stroking for a moment before continuing again.
“So you’ve know for months” she said “I’m sorry I never mentioned it before. I didn’t want you to remember something like that, and you have every right to say that it’s your choice to remember or not.” Rohan hums very lightly before his breathing evens out completely and softens, all of his muscles relaxing. Reimi still stroked his hair, frowning when she sees parts of his torso shown due to him wearing a crop-top and not covered by the jacket. She can see and probably count his ribs.
“You’re going to eat something after this” she whispers, leaning forward a bit before hesitating. She leans forward some more and softly kisses his brow before continuing stroking his hair in a way that she hopes will protect him from the nightmares that are sure to come now that he’s remembered.
When they arrive at the restaurant fifteen minutes later, Tonio immediately comes to them and tells them that Rohan’s with Reimi and that their having a talk. He has them wait for half an hour, giving them some tea and biscuits to pass the time. Okuyasu doesn’t feel like intruding on anything private, not being as close to Rohan as Josuke and Koichi are, choosing to stay in the kitchen to learn some more from Tonio after sanitizing. The newly formed duo follows Tonio to Reimi’s room, leaving them so he can go and make sure Okuyasu is ready to help him out.
Josuke raises his fist to the door and lightly knocks twice.
“Come in” a barely audible voice says. Josuke opens the door, Koichi right behind him. The room is nice, with soft colours, but mostly pink and white with a floral sort of theme, especially with the pink rose growing from a pot by her window. The woman is on her bed, leaning against the headboard, Arnold at her feet, not getting up to greet them, only slightly wagging his tail. More strange is that Rohan is there, curled up with his head in her lap.
“He’s asleep” she says. “He remembered everything.” Josuke frowns.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what she meant” A muffle voice come. Rohan turns and sits up in the bed, hair disheveled. He sits criss-crossed, folding his arms over his stomach. “I remembered what happened seventeen years ago.”
“Seventeen years ago?” Josuke says. His eyes widen. “I was born seventeen years ago!” Koichi looks at Rohan, and then Reimi. Their interaction had completely changed. Rohan isn’t usually open with much people. When he is, it’s only very little. But here he was with Reimi, getting up after falling asleep with his head in her lap as if it were completely normal. Reimi raises an eyebrow.
“Josuke, how could your birthday be related to what RoRo was just going to say?” Josuke blushes.
“Well, I, uh-” a lightbulb goes off in his head and he turns to Rohan. “Hey, why aren’t you yelling at her for calling you RoRo?” Rohan blinks, as if the answer were stupidly obvious.
“She made up that nickname.” He says. Koichi looks at them.
“Reimi died seventeen years ago” Koichi says thoughtfully. “And Okuyasu had said that Tonio said that what just happened at your house could of been a flashback. . .were you there when Reimi died?” Rohan winces.
“Yes. Unlike someone ” he pointingly glances at Josuke, “You, Koichi, are actually intelligent.” He moves to the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. “The Sugimoto family had been babysitting me, like they had done so many times before as my parents liked to travel a lot. Reimi became an older sister of sorts to me. Anyway, we heard dripping sounds and went to investigate and found her parents and Arnold d-dead.” He tries to ignore the stutter. “Then Kira came through the doorway, Reimi got stabbed, and she threw me out the window. I lived and she died.” Josuke gapes.
“She threw you out a window .” He winces. “That must of hurt.” Rohan nods, not looking at Reimi.
“Yes. It did. I still get pains from it sometimes.” Guilt crosses out of Reimi’s face. “But she saved me that way. She could of saved herself and left me, but she saved me while she died. I will never forget that. It is thanks to her that I am here today.” Josuke and Koichi looks a bit depressed and it occurs to Rohan, no matter how much he wants to dismiss or deny the thought, that he basically ruined Koichi, Josuke, and Okuyasu’s day depressing. As well as Reimi. They wanted to make him happy by introducing to something they thought he’s never had before, knowing well that they will probably irritate him before he gives him the chance. It isn’t really has fall that it is his nature to naturally distance himself from people before they can hurt him, like his parents had and how Reimi had when she died, ingraining itself into his behaviour. But she was back. . .so was he okay now?
He still feels like he owes the two fools and Koichi.
And. . .he feels alright now.
Rohan quickly adjusts his hair before getting up, buttoning the jacket down his front so that it covered all of his exposed skin. He smoothens it of any wrinkles, a small, honest smile gracing his features which he well aware of are so good that they can stun anyone that looks his way.
“I’m hungry now. Unlike you boys, I actually haven’t had lunch yet. You have time for a snack, yes?” He walks past Koiche, brushing past Josuke’s shoulder to the door, the extended back of his jacket brushing the back of his thighs. He opens the door, walking into the hallway before poking his head back into the room. “Well? The great Kishibe Rohan doesn’t have much time.” Josuke, Koichi, and Reimi grin, Arnold moving to curl up by the pillows.
“Yes, Sensei.” Koichi says. Rohan huffs at the sensei.
“You don’t need to call me sensei anymore” he smiles, “we’re friends, aren’t we?” And even though he’s mainly speaking to Koichi, he also looks at Josuke, whose mouth is slightly open, his eyes wide as if he just realized something obvious. Rohan decides to play with that abit. “Isn’t that right, JoJo? Come on Reimi. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you’re mochi with pudding tastes like.” And Josuke’s cheeks are covered with a furious blush and Koichi is laughing, following Rohan out the door, Reimi hopping off the bed, lightly laughing as well, patting Josuke on the head as he passes by.
In front of them, Rohan walks with a new sort of confidence, an elegant grace in his walk as if he invented walking. He looks like a beautiful god among men, one that was much too human for his own good but hid it, which, in the end, was his one, true downfall. But then again, no one can be better than the Great Kishibe Rohan.
“And if Okuyasu is cooking, do tell him to lay low on the hot sauce.” And he enters the kitchen and snatches a stack of glasses and the jug of water on the edge of the counter in one smooth motion because Kishibe Rohan knows what he wants and exits into the dining area, a few tables being clear, unlike when he had come. He sits down, pours a few glasses. Josuke is blinking in shock when Rohan even pours a cup from him. He looks up at Reimi. “And tell the chefs they are to join me as well.”
And thats how Rohan ended up being force-fed a four coursed lunch rather that a three or two coursed due to concern for him being too thin (really? Really? ) while the other five enjoyed light snacks and snatching pieces of Rohan’s meals while they talked together, Tonio closing early so they can talk, talking and laughing and goofing off until dinner, which they cooked together. Goofing off some more until midnight, the four deciding to stay the night on Tonio’s spare futons which they set up in the hallway, Tonio and Reimi joining them. Everyone savoured the day because this was a rare occasion:
Cracks had appeared in his mask, and they all caught glimpses of the real Kishibe Rohan.