Mangaka Kishibe Rohan is facing a dilemma. It is not the kind of problem that people like him, those with special powers, would have: intertwining the fates of people under similar circumstances together and eventually meet, usually with an initial confrontation with their unique abilities. No, it was a much, much more serious and threatening problem.
"Damn it. I don't know what to draw." Rohan muttered to himself, taking his daily afternoon walk on the Kotodai shopping district. Writer's block, or in his case, mangaka's block. Upon noticing a certain familiar map placed in front of him, Rohan realized just across the street was Reimi Sugimoto's alley. It was only some while ago that him and Koichi stumbled in there, but it felt a such long time to him. At first he didn't think they would actually find the serial killer, but as time when on, reality proved him wrong. Now they managed to track down the murderer's identity, or at least, his former.
Rohan decided to take a break from chasing down Kira's new identity, so he spent the last few days trying to work on the latest chapter of his masterpiece: Pink Dark Boy. He stared at the alleyway that is located between the drug store and the grocery store. Sometimes it revealed itself to him and the others, sometimes it didn't, though normal people without the powers of a Stand was never able to see it. Today it allowed to be gazed at.
It's going to take some time to find the killer, Rohan thought, thinking of Reimi, who wandered the ghostly alleyway with her faithful dog. But I swear I'm going to find him and bring him to justice. I don't know how long it will take. Weeks, months, maybe even years, but so long as I live in this town, I will.
His resolve to find Kira is admirably adamant, true, but lately Rohan can't say the same for drawing. The surge of passion he had found from reading Koichi's memories back then burned itself out, and he's not sure what will happen next in his story. As much as he had tried reality is not giving him an answer. Maybe his reality is trying to tell him he is a Stand user before a mangaka, and he must locate Kira above all else.
"Oh, if it isn't Kishibe Rohan."
A gentle and ragged voice drove him back to the actual reality. Rohan saw an old man who wore a thick brown trench coat, a small pair of spectacles, and a brimmed woolen hat. Because of his old age, he had to use a cane to assist him on his travels. Joseph Joestar, age 79.
"Mr. Joestar." Rohan stated with mild respect. Joseph was old, and being a polite, well mannered citizen of Morioh Rohan felt obliged to show him honor, unlike that shameless Josuke who scolds his own father loudly in public for being senile.
"It's a nice day, isn't it?" the old man said, adjust his spectacles, "How are you doing with your manga?"
"It's progressing well," Rohan said, thinking that his problem wasn't worth for an old man to worry, "I'm finishing the new chapter soon."
"Ah, that is good. I saw some of your volumes from Josuke. Even though I couldn't read it, the art is really good. They are very detailed. Shame about it not being in English."
Rohan nodded. Now that he thinks about it, how come his manga isn't translated in English? Being one of the most spoken languages in the world, he is pretty sure at least someone in the West would find his work appealing. Or was he correct on them having bad tastes, after all?
"The alleyway with the ghost girl is right across the street, right?" Joseph pointed. "I have a few questions about the killer, and I wish to clear something up."
"Yeah, the alley where Reimi resides is right over there. Just keep walking straight and turn right until you see a red mail post and a pile of dog shit that's been stepped on. That's where she usually hangs out."
"Oh, thank you, thank you." The old man gave his thanks and faced the crosswalk, waiting for the signal for him to go. "Sorry that I couldn't be much help in this whole investigation. My Stand used to be able to locate people and read their thoughts but when you get to my age just even summoning it gets tiring."
When the light told him to go, Joseph huddled across the street slowly. Rohan watched him leave. He's heard of his Stand before. Hermit Purple. Is there a story behind his Stand? How did he get it? Was he a natural, or did he get shot by the Arrow as well? What did it looked it? Rohan pondered onto these questions, generated by his sharp mangaka instincts, and did not notice the speeding truck until it was almost too late. The light had already turned red, but Joseph stood frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. For some reason he was deeply absorbed on watching this kid across the street blowing bubbles. Shiny and numerous.
"Oh for the love of-" Rohan saw the truck and immediately sprang into action. "Heaven's Door!" Sketching the air with astonishing speed, Rohan drew an outline of the protagonist of Pink Dark Boy, a small boy with a gray coat and a top hat. The manifestation of his Stand dove right into Joseph, and Rohan quickly wrote the command "I cannot be harmed" into him. The truck, to the passerbys, seemed to have miraculously swerved at the last moment and avoided hitting the old senile man who's stopped in the middle of the road. Rohan let out a sigh of relief. Deep down he does not know what Josuke do when he found out Joseph was hurt on his watch.
"Hey, are you all right?" Rohan walked up to Joseph, whose body for the moment was still a book. "Here, let me escort you acros-"
For a moment, just for a moment, he saw something bizarre. It was one sentence in his memory, but he saw it.
"Fought against the evil vampire DIO, mortal enemy of the Joestar bloodline, with Jotaro and others at Egypt, 1989."
"What the-What is this?" Rohan stammered, looking at outrageous line in disbelief. He was about to look deeper into Joseph's memory when he realized the latter was looking intently at him.
"Rohan? What did you do to my body?"
Rohan gulped. He decided to write "I will forget what just happened" into him.
Joseph waved goodbye as he entered the ghostly alley, leaving the mangaka watching him until he disappeared around the corner. He ignored everyone else's incredulous stares at him looking at nothing in the middle of the road. Rohan couldn't help but feel he had witnessed a glimpse of something powerful, with that just one sentence from Joseph's memory. Even if he is senile, Heaven's Door captures the perfect recordings of his life with pin-point accuracy from the moment he could remember.
"It looks like the past has the answers I'm looking for." He ran his hand over his forehead and stared upwards in the setting sun. He was going to visit Reimi, but now he wants to head home.