Jobin stood by the window as the sun set on the little town of Morioh.
Peering from his bedroom's second-story floor, he looked down upon the bane of his existence.
Josuke Higashikata.
Jobin knew little about his father's reasonings for adopting the younger man, but it had yanked a thread from the elaborate efforts Jobin had put forth toward obtaining the one miracle that could spell the end of the Higashikata curse.
Groaning loudly, the eldest Higashikata son, allowed himself to process the stress he allowed to pile up during his absence from his hometown. The painkillers he took would do little to alleviate the headache that was his current reality, anyway.
Damo Tamaki had been killed...and on the Higashikata estate.
That little detail equated a HUGE problem.
Tamaki had been a gate keeper in regards to the underground trade of the Rokakaka fruit. He was also the man who ultimately held the door wide enough for Jobin to slip through the ranks of a world that detested humans. Not close enough to get his hands on the coveted fruit, of course, but near enough to pick up on some vital information.
That was motivation enough for the eldest Higashikata son to use the family business to money launder for the deadly Rokakaka smuggling ring. There was no official name for the group, Tamaki-san had detested such flagrancy as an act that would draw too much attention. They were simply there for the spoils.
There was much profit to be made from the misfortune of the fortunate. Wealthy men whose affluence couldn't afford them the one thing that mattered; their lives.
And so they made a business of it.
Damo Tamaki, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, and a few more of their kind; Rock people, as they called themselves. They were an anomaly, as far as Jobin was concerned. A species of man thriving within the rock-like state that would've taken his life as a child. A species that by all means and purposes could slip in and out of the human population, without detection. Rock people existed outside the border of human society. No records meant no identity as far as the feds were concerned. Which left minimal means for Rock People way to function effectively within the dominant culture.
Jobin was scouted specifically because of his ties to the Higashikata fruit company and brought onboard to help them integrate into human society.
In a way, Jobin viewed himself as a reaper, though not a particularly grim one. He never took a life, simply found those who were hanging off the edge between this world and the next. Then he pointed them toward Tamaki and his crew.
Transactions were enacted only within their tight-knit circle. The Rokakaka was exchanged in person, cash-in-hand; A quarter million yen for one piece of fruit. All handled under the table by way of the Higashikata Fruit company. What happened thereafter was not his concern.
They'd get their secound chance at a price. Rokakaka had mysterious properties to restore to the body what was loss. He himself had seen a few clients cured from incurable diseases, snatched back from the abyss, and continue their lives vicariously with a bounce on their step that would ware off as another part of their body started to malfunction. A new set of lungs may be paid for with a kidney. The only constant in the use of the illegal fruit was the rule of equivalency. The healing effects of eating the fruit were never without cost, whether paid for by the client's body or that of another.
It was an undeniable parallel to the Higashikata battle against the Rock disease; a cruel fate passed down from parent to child, most commonly the first born son. Its onset, assured by the age of 10, would lead to rapid deterioration in an otherwise healthy body.
Uncrossing his arms, Jobin raised a steady hand to his face, feeling the softness of his skin, remembering a time when its suppleness had stiffened and its texture became hostile as granite.
He subconsciously scratched the deep vertical ravines of his left cheek, residue from a time when his own father had hesitated to make the brazen decision required from past Higashikata patriarchs.
A sacrifice of equivalent exchange.
One life for another.
It wasn't a gift out of love, so much as an expectation; a duty to ensure the success of the next generation and the longevity of the the family bloodline. When his own time had come, Jobin had been none the wiser. A cheerful lad who simply enjoyed spending quality time with his family on a hot summer day. It wasn't until Jobin noticed his own limitations in running around with his friends that he had asked his mother why he was different.
She never lied to him the way his father did.
Protection is what his father called it, when he refused to tell him the whole truth.
He was brought out of his thoughts as his burner phone began to ring for the 7th time in the past hour. It was a cheap prepaid phone he used in order to separate his business from personal affairs. Truthfully, Jobin's contact had been blowing up his phone for the past 3 days, and he wasn't sure he could avoid him much longer. The business trip to New Zealand had allotted him an allaby, but now that he was back in Morioh, the drama was bound to catch up with him.
Hesitantly, he turned from the window to walk to the prepaid phone that had been haphazardly dumped into the tin can on his computer desk. It was full of the paint brushes he used to stimulate his prized stag beatles. There were so many, trying to dig his hand through them would be useless, so he dumped the whole thing on his king-sized bed. Sure enough, the phone blazed even louder after it hit his red cotton sheets.
Picking it up, he fumbled with the closed flip phone, and failed to answer before the ringing stopped.
Part of him felt relief, the other...dread.
Tamaki had been BOSS as far as he was involved.
Jobin did suspect that there was another above him, but he had never gone so deep that he'd brushed shoulders with the individual that Damo Tamaki reported to..
Ding!
He looked at the screen alert that told him a text message had been recieved.
The caller I.D. said unknown.
Sweat began pool at his temples as seeds of anxiety sprout.
He didn't particularly like dealing with the unknown.
He liked it even less when the 'unknown', 'unknowns' came to introduce themselves.
Taking a deep breath, he stilled his shaky hand.
"Ok, 3, 2, 1..." Jobin counted down to the moment that would decide his immediate future.
He flipped the phone open.
Unknown: I scraped up Damo Tamaki's body from Midori street.
Jobin just stared at the screen. Midori street was the road that ran along the east section of the property. After a moment of thought, he replied.
Jobin: When was this?
After several minutes his phone lit up again.
Unknown: Last week. You know somethin'?
Jobin: No, but that explains why he hasn't been answering my calls..
Of course, the eldest Higashikata already knew that the rock gangsta had been murdered. In fact, he was somewhat pleased that he had been. His family clued him in about the deadly situation involving a love interest his younger sister Hato, brought home. Damo Tamaki preyed on her while on the set of one of her modeling gigs; she was the key he used to access the family estate. The 'Rock man' practically melted everyone in the house with his stand Vitamin C, including the maid.
Jobin assumed it was due to Josuke killing Tamaki's right hand, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, after a failed attempt of trapping him on the Higashikata estate.
So Damo Tamaki decided to murder the whole family.
The aftermath was a vicious brawl.
Hato came out on top.
Damo has killed by the same man as his underling.
And the house was still in need of repairs.
Jobin stood up from the edge of the bed when the light in his room began to noticeably dim. Not bothering to recollect his stag beetle brushes, he returned to the window, absorbing the last bit of warmth as the sun sunk lower into the Japanese horizon.
Ding!
The text message he read made his heart pound.
Unknown: I should kill you.
So they knew..
Guilt by proximity. Two deaths at his family home.. how could the smuggling ring not think he had something to do with it.
Jobin felt himself beginning to sweat. His bedroom was suddenly a hot box.
His stand, Speed King's power must of have been activated by his adrenaline.
"What should I say..." he mumbled to himself.
Jobin: Bring it-
The text was deleted as soon as he pressed the last key.
He knew not to pick a fight with a man he could not see. Jobin was a formidable stand user, but he still had no idea how deep the Rokakaka's roots ran within the Rock-human underground. His everlasting headache pulsed even harder when his phone chimed again.
Unknown: But if you were a rat Damo would have killed you himself.
Another chime.
Unknown: As an act of good faith, I require something from you.
Another.
Unknown: Check your car.
Jobin bolted out of his room.
The wood floor panels creaked with every pound of his footsteps as he made it to the hall and down the stairs.
"Sorry!" Jobin yelled, as he nearly ran over the maid, a very startled Nijimura-san, on his way to the garage.
Cold wind from the open garage door and caused his sweat covered body to shiver involuntarily. Who had opened the door? Josuke never used that exit and Nijimura was not forgetful enough to leave it open.
Jobin gauged his surroundings.
There were no footprints or any other indication that someone had broken in.
Aside from the open door, everything was as it should be.
Cautiously, Jobin peered through the window of his golden lamborghini. His fingers pressed against the cool of the glass as he made out a a small pink box in the passenger seat. It was the size of his hand and wrapped like a present with a purple bow to secure it.
Cute. He chuckled dryly.
He opened the car door, and slid in the driver's seat, eyeing the package warily.
The odds of it not being a bomb?
Slim.
But here was no other option. Whoever messaged him knew where he lived and was most likely hanging around to make sure he obeyed.
Speed king manifested as a pulsing translucent heat wave.
It was a gamble considering it was a close range stand. The further he sent his stand, the weaker it's attack became. But scouting out the perimeter was worth the temporary vulnerability. Besides, it was almost undetectable in that form, aside from the unusual rise in temperature.
He needed to determine if he was in immediate danger.
Jobin reclined in his black leather seat, running his nails along the stitching.
His eyes closed as he willed his mind to connect to the vision of his stand.
Speed King scoped the area within a 10km radius.
It was dark, so the colors of the environment were muted by the blue of the night sky, making it harder to differentiate shapes. Jobin instead focused on finding pockets of heat that were not his own. The nocturnal creatures popped from the monotonous environment, appearing in blobs of yellow and orange as his sensor locked on to their body heat. A rat, owl, and a few bugs were all that came into view.
Nothing alarming.
Jobin retracted his stand and focused on his current dilemma.
The 'gift.'
He reached over the cup holder to the passenger side chair and picked up the box.
It was light as a feather.
He shook it, yet nothing rattled inside.
Jobin held his breath and untied the bow.
When he looked into the box he saw a single note.
Kill Kujo Josefumi
Jobin's eyebrows shot up at the unexpected request. It would have made more sense if the note had mentioned his sister Hato or Josuke, since they were the ones responsible for taking down Damo Tamaki.
He flipped paper to look at the back.
Your wife dies
So he was being given two options.
Kill Josefumi or lose his wife.
Jobin should've expected as much. Forgiveness would not be given freely. He was expected to earn his way out of punishment. Admittedly, it was a very mob boss-like course of action. He'd have to take every precaution from this step forward.
"..Kujo Josefumi." Jobin tested the name on his lips and scowled.
He remembered Tamaki had used the name as an alias but he assumed the identity belonged to someone who was already deceased. From what he'd heard, it was customary for rock people to target a particular human in order to absorb their assets and status when they choose to integrate into society. In any case, this was the best possible outcome. With Tamaki out of the way Jobin was one step closer to whoever was holding the reins on the Rokakaka smuggling world.
Murder was not something he aspired to do, but if it meant advancing his efforts in obtaining the Rokakaka, and a cure to the Higashikata curse, then so be it.
His son, Tsurugi depended on it.
The only issue was, "Who is Kujo Josefumi?"