Chapter Text
Hard.
Hard ground.
No longer was Jolyne’s body being pushed around by the freshwater waves of the marsh but under her laid a solid concrete floor. Rough and gravely pavement scratched at her skin. Digging itself within her bloodied wounds. Bringing her hand up to grip her throbbing head she groans. Her whole body creaked in pain, as her tight joints ached with the movement. Eyes blurred by the salt water crusting on her lashes.
Could this be it?
Had they lost?
Did Pucci somehow…
The thought made her nauseous. Her head was spinning like she was falling into an infinite loop, body shaking in the most unbelievable sickness. Trembling with a rage she had never felt until this very moment. Like her guts wanted to spill out into a mad fire in a blaze of anguish.
“Fuck…!” she cried. “Dammit all…”
“Hermès…Anasui…Emporio.”
“Oh..Emporio…” She sobs, choking on the globs of tears that spilled from her blinks, gasping for any kind of air that would fill her damaged lungs.
“Dad…fuck…I'm so sorry Dad.” Her voice breaks. Her body racked with sobs while a crushing tightness formed within her throat at the memory of his lifeless body and slashed face laying afloat in the water.
His last words being her name play back painfully, echoing in her mind, again and again.
“You stupid...stupid old man.”, She sniffles before screaming.
“Why did you do it…?”
“God!”
“Damn it!”
“Why did you have to save me…”
The events flash vividly through her mind.
Hermès, Anasui, Emporio and her father. Their blood staining the water bright ruby red. Bodies being punched around by the ocean's waves as if they haven’t suffered enough battery. The currents smashing against their stiff forms.
How sickening.
Was there nothing that could be done? A war against a man so determined to destroy her lineage. Who had a stand with the powers the closest a human being could get to a God? Was it all for nothing? Could Emporio possibly still be on the dolphin? Was the side of victory ever in their favor?
Her fist weakly slams at the ground. Hot tears rolled off her cheeks into the pavement. Small sharp rocks stab at her palm however the small pain is nothing but an annoyance compared to her greater injuries.
“ugh...”
“…It's…hard?’
She chuckles weakly in her gasps,“Who knew the afterlife could be so...uncomfortable...”
Low whispers drone around her limp body while shadowy figures stirred in her vision. Yet she was too weak to call out, feeling her consciousness slowly slip away from her. Fighting against heavy blinks.
A tall woman approaches within her eyesight. Her eyes, too cloudy to clearly make out the woman’s appearance, sees the shape of a lady wearing a white jacket and blonde hair.
“Um excuse me...young girl?” The lady sweetly calls, crouching down to her level.
“ughhn”, Jolyne could only groan. The headache. The pain. When was the last time she wasn't in constant pain?
The thoughts swirling in her mind were much too overwhelming after her crazed sobbing. Shocks of soreness pickled under her skin. Her eyelids began to droop, much too heavy now to force them open. Her consciousness fades to a much needed sleep.
“Oh my gosh!” The blonde lady gasps, now noticing the visible damage to the young teen’s body.
“Miss, are you alright?” The lady gently shakes her arm asking for an answer that never comes.
In a quick decision by glancing around at the small unhelpful crowd that had formed surrounding them, the blonde decides to pick the young girl’s body up from the harsh pavement and into her arms. Making her way back to her home with all the strength she could muster for carrying a girl almost as tall as six feet.
Looking down at the face of the girl in her arms she thinks while examining her sharp face once screwed up in pain now soft with sleep. That coarse black and blondish hair. A tall nose with clear almond eyes. Her lips were thick and coated with dried blood. The body was muscular and tense from what she could feel in her arms with showings of a harsh life.
‘This poor girl…who is she and why does she look so…familiar?’
__________________________________
Tossing and turning in her sleep, Jolyne feels a comforting softness engulfing her weary body.
‘It’s warm.’
This is her first thought upon waking up in the unfamiliar room.
Through the first good sleep she's had in ages she recounts her painful dream. A dream of seeing her friends, her mom, her dad…for what feels like the last time.
Before she lets the guilt and the thoughts swallow her whole, her eyes lids slowly flutter open.
Soft sunlight peeks into the room behind a curtain. Gently illuminating the pitch darkness of wherever she was. The soft blanket laid on top of her is heavy and thick. Instead of a usual bed a mat is laid under her. She looks up to the tall ceiling.
It's your usual everyday overhead light. Looking around the room it's quite ordinary. A desk, a wardrobe, some house decor, and a plastic basin of water beside her.
Pushing the blanket off her body as gently as she could, she attempted to sit up. A damp towel falls from her forehead into her lap.
“Ngh...” The sharp pain of her headache strikes again making her jaw clench in discomfort. Her hands reach up to massage her temples.
A sharp creak comes from the door as it slides open halfway. Peaking in is the woman with long blonde hair all tied up. While warm blue eyes gazed at her, coupling with a gentle smile.
“Oh, you're awake!” Her grin gets bigger as she enters the room with a tray holding a glass of water, a bowl of porridge, and a spoon laid next to it.
Now kneeling at Jolyne's side the tray is placed in front of her. It's the folding kind where she is able to stay seated.
“Go on, drink some water and eat a little. You look awful.” The woman gingerly removes the towel from Jolyne's lap, wringing it out into the wash basin.
“um thank you...” she croaked.
Bringing her hand to the glass she gulps it down. Water. The last thing she thought she'd be grateful to see. Wiping her mouth with her hand she begins to speak, “Please tell me. Who are you? Where am I?”
“Ah well, first of all my name is Holy Kujo and right now we're in my home.” The lady shyly replies with a smile.
“I know I probably should've called for an ambulance or something, and this is about to sound very strange but...there was something about you that feels so familiar.” The lady’s eyes squint at her appearance, trying to recall her face, “Oh I just can't describe it…maybe we have met before?”
“Holy...Kujo...? My name is Jolyne Cujoh…what a coincidence.”
‘I call it a coincidence but this woman looks alarmingly like a younger version of my own grandmother!’
“Cujoh? Really? Well maybe fate has brought us together in a way!” She giggles, resoaking the towel within the water.
“Yeah...maybe it has and I'm about to make a strange request myself but could I see the back of your shoulder?”
‘If this really is my grandmother…’
“Back of my shoulder? Oh well that is certainly strange but I don't see why not.” She replies in a softly sweet voice. Holy turns her back to Jolyne revealing a star birth mark stamped upon her shoulder.
“You’re kidding!” Jolyne jumps up stumbling and spilling the bowl of porridge on the sheets while the tray and utensils clatter in unison.
“Jolyne! Are you alright? What's the matter?”
“Kujo…Holy Kujo.”
‘This is too much of a coincidence now’
“Stone Free!”
The blue lithe stand appears forcing a gasp out of Holy from shock. “Jolyne! What?!”
“I'm sorry Holy, bear with me for a second.” Her fingers unravel searching the room for anything that could make sense of this.
‘This has got to be a trick! Could it be one of Pucci’s abilities? Using an illusion against my psyche just like the prison visiting room. Making me experience yet another nightmare?’
‘If this is a dream then I have to wake up!’
The strings fly around the room running over the walls, floors, and household objects.
Unable to find anything unusual, as the strings had knocked frames of photos, scratched at the walls and floors, and busted open the closet, she retracts the stand into its bodily form. Heart racing out of fear, the anticipation to fight, she feels it'll jump out her chest at any moment.
The phone rings in the next room breaking the silence filled by her shaky breath.
Holy takes a stand, her brows furrowed with worry, “Jolyne, please sit down for a second. You're still hurt. Everything is okay here, there isn't anything to be afraid of, just wait for me while I get the phone.”
Jolyne takes her advice. Back sliding off the wall and to the floor. What else could she do? The room itself seems to be real, the scenery outside the window looks like your ordinary backyard filled with grass, trees, and flowers. But Holy Kujo…could she trust this woman being her actual grandmother? The thought itself felt too absurd.
From the next room she listens to the phone conversation through the string of Stone Free.
“Jotaro? Keimusho?! Yes I'll be right there!”
‘Jotaro?! If this woman really is my grandmother then…that means…!’
“Jolyne!” Holy exclaims peeking back into the room. “I have to get down to the police station and maybe when you're better they can help you too but I've got some business to take care of so stay right here, okay♡!”
“Uh alright Holy I'm okay now. I'll be fine by myself.” Her hand reaches up to pinch her nose bridge. “Sorry about that.”
“Well don't do anything to freak yourself out more. I'll be back soon!”
The door slams leaving Jolyne alone, once again.
She exhales into a sigh at the event of her own sudden outburst, now long forgotten.
“Okay...” She breaths.
‘Let's go through this again. I was in Florida at Cape Canaveral fighting Father Pucci with my friends Hermès, Anasui, Emporio, and my Father. Pucci managed to kill us all but Emporio who I can only assume is on the dolphin but…who's to say. Now I am here…which is somewhere.’
She scratches the back of her neck feeling the birthmark on her shoulder.
‘At least I know Stone Free still works.’ Once again she looks around the room finding a light switch to get a better look. Now illuminated she's able to see a calendar nailed to the wall.
Upon closer inspection she notices the calendar’s writing, all the characters written in Japanese. Next she notices the date. In big bold font appears the year.
1988
“1988?” She mutters.
‘Impossible that can't be right…’
Rubbing her eyes she looks again. The date remains unchanged. In her shock she flips through the calendar reading each number carefully, however unable to understand the Japanese wording, the date of the calendar seems to be true.
“No way…this has got to be some fucked up joke…”
She exits the guest room to the next seeing a large boxy TV sitting on top of a wooden television stand.
‘This television is…it's such an old style!’ Her fears of the impossible that she has somehow been thrown to the past pushes to the front of her mind. However if this was a dream she had yet to be woken up. Even with her high emotional skepticism nothing was out of place enough to cause her to awaken.
‘Strange..’
Grabbing the remote on the table in front of it. Her fingers move to frantically flip through the channels. ‘Japanese channel, Japanese channel, and another Japanese channel. Damn. I can't understand any of this…’
Finally landing on a daily news channel she reads the banner on the top of the screen.
It's just as she feared…the year reads the dreadful date, 1988.
Pressing the power button the TV flickers off.
‘The year is 1988…everything is in Japanese…then I must be in Japan?…and the woman living here is my young grandmother?’
“What in the hell is going on here?” Her eyes squeeze shut hoping that when she opens them she'll wake up from this bad dream.
Unfortunately this is not a dream at all. The confusing truth was she's in Japan, in her grandmother's house, waiting for grandma Holy to come back home after God knows what.
‘If I'm in my grandmother's house…does that mean…Dad is here too…!’
She stood still, trying to hear for any noise of another in the home. However seconds passed and the silence persisted.
‘I guess I didn't hear anything with Stone Free earlier…’
What a twisted joke. She can feel herself gaining another migraine.
‘Now what was that Holy said on the phone…”keimusho”?’ She turned to the bookshelf next to the TV looking to find any kind of a dictionary. Blowing the dust off the stacks of literature, she rummages through the shelves until she finds an English to Japanese and Japanese to English guide.
Flipping through the pages she surveyed for any words that started with a K in romaji.
‘Keimusho…keimusho…what could it mean?’ She licked her finger, turning to the next page she saw it! ‘Jail! There it is!....wait a second…jail?’
“Does this mean my father is in jail?!” She gasped.
Her hand reached up to face palm in disappointment. ‘Good greif…why am I the one to get stuck with a delinquent father…’ She sighed.
‘It’s too late in the day now for him to not be home from school. From what I calculated he has to be seventeen. So this must be the situation…’
Jolyne turns to a wooden self nailed to one of the walls cluttered with family photos across the years. At this collection she stops to look.
Her father.
Photos and photos adorned the shelf. Pictures covered in antique frames of a happy family smiled back at her. A little boy with black hair held by his mother and father stood at the very center. His face is familiar. Scarily familiar.
‘This is so weird…ugh...God I feel awful…’
‘Where’s the bathroom of this place? When's the last time I showered?’ She gagged, the thought of herself running around her grandmother's place and touching all her things right after her intense battle to the death was a little….embarrassing.
Stumbling through the rooms she takes the time to explore the house until she discovers the door to the bathroom.
Sliding open the door, she steps up to the mirror above the sink. Seeing herself for the first time after her supposed death at Cape Canaveral, Jolyne takes a long, hard look at her face.
Pale was her skin. No color to paint her cheeks or lips. As if all her life had been sucked from her body and left this shallow husk. Dark circles hung under her eyes. Scratches adorned her face with dried blood and bruises splotched all over the flesh. Her hair of dark blonde and black was a mess thrown in every direction. Rough and dry. Tangled and matted.
‘I look like shit…and of course it was my grandmother that had to find me like this.’ She groaned, peeling off her banged up clothes as gently as she could
Stepping into the shower and turning the knob, she waits for the water to heat up, taking the time to process the situation.
‘Alright…I’m in Japan, that's one thing for sure, the year is 1988 and this is both proven by the news channel I saw.’
“...”
‘Unbelievable…’
‘I’m currently standing in my grandmother's house, Holy my grandmother and Jotaro, her son...my father.’
‘Was this Pucci’s final scheme? To make me suffer? Allowing me to see my family one last time just to kill me after for certain?’
Her hand moves to turn the shower knob, shutting the water off. Stepping out of the tub she grabs a towel off the rack, drying herself down and dressing herself back up in the clothes she threw aside moments before.
‘Hopefully what I'm experiencing now is not a dream and maybe…if this really isn't some hyperrealistic illusion...is it possible that I have been given a second chance?’ It was almost funny. Such a thing was so movie-like yet all she could hope for was that this movie could be her reality.
She drags herself back into the living room, heavy steps hitting the soft Japanese flooring, her eyelids drooping once again.
Perhaps it was the stress or the leftover soreness from the fight but Jolyne's body is hit once again with a full-bodied fatigue. Kneeling down to rest her arms and head on the table she tries to shake the dizziness but ultimately fails. Heavy eyelids and long lashes flutter over green eyes, sending her off to another sleep and maybe this time it’ll help her understand things better.
‘I will never forgive you…Enrico Pucci…’
‘…never…’
‘If we ever encounter again I'll give you a punishment…worthy…of your sins.’
__________________________________
Since Holy's frantic departure from the house it has been no more than an hour and a half since she had tried and failed to convince Jotaro of leaving the cell.
Swiftly returning to the front of her home, Holy had only one thought.
‘I’ve got to call Papa, he'll know what to do! He's got an “evil spirit” just the same and even that Jolyne girl too…it looked like a ghost jumped right out of her back!’
Sliding the door open she enters the main living room which happens to be where Jolyne had fallen asleep at the table.
Her soft snoring confirms this letting Holy relax. Tense shoulders falling in relief. She sighs, quietly opening a wardrobe from the next room bringing out a thick blanket but just before covering Jolyne's unconscious body she notices a strange shape on her exposed shoulder.
‘This shape, how odd…can it really be?’
Yes. Yes it was.
The shape of a star stamped on the shoulder of her smooth pale skin. The one Holy Kujo herself was born with.
Strange…how unbelievably strange this all was. First her Father gains a spirit then her son and now this girl with a birth mark the same as hers has one? Could it be that this girl shared some relation to her family?
The thought clouded her mind, perhaps this was the reason her face felt so familiar. Crazy, how could that be possible? Before she could think of any more questions to ask, Holly placed the blanket over Jolyne's body and ran to make a phone call.
__________________________________
A dream...or was it reality?
Cold winds beat against her back. The harrowing sounds of its whistling whooshes fly past her ears and tickle at her skin which causes the flesh to erupt in a cluster of goosebumps.
There she stood again.
Back at Cape Canaveral. The sun and the clouds speeding at an unexplainable pace above her head. Coming and going. Morning into night. This time instead of her friends and father being with her she stands alone.
That's when she hears it.
A laugh. A horrible taunting laugh. A man’s voice although there was some kind of a softness to it. The sound could’ve almost felt warm, inviting, and comforting–if it wasn’t for the vile undertone of murderous intent bleeding through its facade. The sound begins to ring through her ears like it was shaking her skull right from the inside.
The laugh was deafening yet untraceable–looking around, she was the only one there.
“You motherfucker! Hey! Show yourself!”
She shouts but it is to no avail, for there is no enemy she can see.
She stays silent, head slowly swiveling around scanning the surroundings to find any kind of a source. One hand gripping her head now, those green finger nails dig deep into her scalp, the sound is just unbearable, “Nghn…!”
Day into night, back to day into night, like a cycle of neverending hell.
The rain came pounding on her skin, drumming against her body, winds blowing through her hair, sticking to her face, then drying like it never happened at all.
Now looking up in front of her stands a figure of a man shrouded in a mass of darkness. Even with the sun phasing quickly over them his features were unable to be made clear.
Fear strikes at her heart. An unexplainable terror of nothing she's ever experienced…and now this monster was approaching her.
A tall, tall man of over six feet, strong muscles rippling under his skin, sharp black claws hanging off his finger tips, swaying at his sides, long, blonde hair wildly waving, and the most sinister aura oozing off his body.
He was no ordinary human but a demon in the shape of one.
The ominous figure suddenly stops a few feet in front of her and slowly brings up a hand to point with his clawed finger.
His voice comes out low, smooth, and sweet.
“Listen closely and remember this Joestar.”
“You will never escape this inevitable fate.”
Piercing cold and menacing eyes reveal themselves to her staring straight at her own.
“Hahh…hahhh...” Jolyne, she wheezes, unable to catch her breath.
Her lungs sting, forcing in a sharp gasp.
Her body jolts awake throwing her head back into reality. Head swiveling side to side making sure she was no longer in the dream and yes. She wasn't. That's right she was still in her grandmother's home in Japan.
‘What the hell was that…! What could it mean?’
“Jolyne!” Again from the doorway stands Holy making her way into the room.
“You're awake again. How are you feeling? It seems your fever has gone down.” She says, her soft palm pressing against her forehead.
“Uh…yeah actually...I'm feeling a lot better.”
Now that she thinks about it her fatigue and injuries had greatly subsided compared to the moments before. Weird. Maybe all she really needed was a moment to rest.
“That's great! I don't know if you've noticed but you've actually slept through the night. It's morning now. Hungry enough for some breakfast?”
Stomach growling she blushes, “Sure that sounds awesome right now, but I'll help you with it, it's the least I can do.”
“Alright but only if you're feeling good enough…”
“Trust me this is the best I've felt in awhile.” She replies sheepishly.
“Okay then♡! Follow me to the kitchen.”
“What kind of breakfast would you like, Jolyne? How about American style? Not to assume but you don't seem to know any Japanese do you? Where did you say you were from?” She cheerfully squawks, bringing out the pans and plates out of a cabinet overhead the stove.
“I’m from Florida…Port St. Lucie, Florida and yeah that sounds great.”
“Wow all the way from America huh?” She breathes in awe, “So what are you doing here Jolyne?” Holy turns the stove dial to high, it makes clicking noises as she sets the pan on the stove top.
“Actually that's the one thing I don't know. From the last I remember I was in Florida but now…” Jolyne’s voice trails off as if recounting a bad memory. Yes. That’s right, just seconds ago she was there but why now…?
“Oh…that's terrible…” The old lady shoots an empathetic glance at the girl. Making jolyne turn away not wanting Holy to see her saddened face. All scrunched up in seriousness.
“Jolyne I know we've just met but you're welcome to stay here for the time being...maybe you'll know what happened then?”
She opens the fridge taking out a carton of eggs and a pack of sausages. “Could you cook these for me? I'll be making the pancake mix.”
“Sure…but Holy I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble. I don’t think it's best for me to stay around too long.” Jolyne cracks the eggs on the pan. They sizzle as they fall onto the scorching surface alongside the sausages.
“Nonsense Jolyne you're very welcome here. I wouldn't let a person I didn't trust into my home y’know!” Smiling at her kindly she gazes at her with sincere eyes she truly meant every word.
At this look she lets out a tired laugh and smiles, “...Fine then. I can't thank you enough…for taking care of me as well.”
“Jolyne don't over think it. You're such a sweet girl I can tell. Your parents must be lucky to have you.”
“Speaking of your parents, where are they? Are you able to call them?”
Her tone calm and collected, she speaks, “Umm…honestly I don't even know myself…and I don't have any contacts with either of them right now.”
“Ah…I see…”
‘I’m not even supposed to be here…hell I'm not even supposed to be alive right now in 1988!’
‘But yeah…my parents…I wonder what mom is doing...hopefully she survived the terror of Pucci…she's probably worried.’
‘And dad...I wonder what happened to dad…sitting in jail it seems but I can't be sure it's really him. What would he be like? Would he understand if I could explain the situation I'm in? Even at his presumably young age?’
‘Oh.’ She sighed, ‘Mom. Dad. Will we ever be reunited again…?’ It had been months since she had seen her parents. Yes, those awful grueling days locked up in the fight for her life. She had done well for herself. “Jolyne…you’ve grown…” Her father. Perhaps it was the nicest thing he’s ever said to her.
Hope. The only thing that kept her moving. Although those feelings will always hurt. A heaviness that gripped her heart. That part of her that wanted to see her family as a whole again. Who could blame her. The last time she cried for her mother was in prison. Well…she didn’t exactly cry. There’s never time to cry in prison. ‘Be strong Jolyne…never doubt yourself…’ is what she would say to her…if she was here right now. Maybe…if only she could hold her mother in her arms again.
She would hold her back.
“You can plate the food now. They look cooked enough and I can make the pancakes.”
“Oh. Right”
Freed from her thoughts she slides the food off the pan onto two plates.
That reminds me, JoJo…oops I mean Jolyne. My son's friends at school call him JoJo but his name is Jotaro. I guess I've picked it up from them.” She giggles.
“I've called my dad and I got to pick him up from the airport today but I was wondering…you've got a spirit connected to you too. Correct?”
“A spirit?”
“Oh! you mean…”
“Yes, the one that appeared when I first met you. Do you know anything about them? My father and son happen to have one too.” She effortlessly flips the pancake landing with a sizzle.
“I don't think I'll be much help. I only got mine a few months ago. From what I understand these “spirits” are called stands and some people have the right strengths to get them. With a “fighting spirit” you'd be able to handle one. For me, I got mine getting pricked by a piece of stone that can activate the ability but I guess they’re able to be passed down through family too.”
“I see…passed down from family huh?” Holy looks up from the pan to meet her eyes.
“Well Jolyne..this is a big request but is it possible for you to come with me to the airport to meet my dad?”
“Your dad?”
‘Could it be? Her great grandfather? One of the Joestars? Her dad's grandpa?’
“…Alright, sure. There is nothing for me to do here anyways.”
“Great! Then once breakfast is finished let's get going. Maybe Papa will be able to help you too. You see, my son has locked himself in a jail cell because of his “evil spirit” but maybe you can come explain things to him with him!” She smiles, an expression full of hopefulness and excitement.
“I'll try my best but he definitely sounds like the difficult type from what you've just described.”
“Oh no!” She chuckles, “He might seem that way but he's a good kid I swear! I'm sure you two will get along just fine!”
‘What an energetic lady…’
Jolyne had very few memories of Holy. Most of them were when she was very young. When Dad brought Mom and her to Japan once or twice. Perhaps for a time so long ago she had once walked in this house. Laughing, playing, probably? However it had been too long now for any kind of meaningful memories to surface themselves.
Even with these memory gaps Jolyne could never forget her face. She vividly remembers the photo of Holy and her grandfather, Sadao, sitting on her father's work desk. Holding the large frame in her small hands, looking at them during those times where he was never home…
“Yeah…we'll see about that…” She grimaces. The thought of meeting her young father sounds like a huge pain she couldn't wait to deal with.
Although that thought could wait for now, breakfast was waiting and there was nothing more exciting than eating something other than prison food for the first time in several months. Mouth watering just smelling it. Delicious pancakes, eggs, and sausage.