TORSTAI 14. SYYSKUUTA 2000, 19.22

MILANO, ITALIA

BAR RUSTICO

"Order for Kilroy!" the barista announced in Italian.

The person called "Kilroy" approached the counter, grabbing his caffè corretto as he glanced up at the man who had announced his order. "Grazie. Italian's not my native language, so I'm trying my best."

The curly-haired bartender smiled. "Don't worry about it, kid. You did good."

Kilroy headed back to his table, carrying the mug gingerly in his hands. "Kilroy" wasn't even his real name, but the English name he used in his English-language classes at the University of Helsinki in Finland. His birth name was Kubota Kyuwa, and he had been born and raised in Japan, only to lose both parents in a car accident at the age of 6. He was adopted by a Finnish couple only a few months later, and he'd moved to their country's capital city, where he still lived to this day. Kyuwa then took the couple's surname, "Mäkinen."

Over time, Kyuwa became trilingual in his native Japanese, his adoptive Finnish, and Helsinki's other official language (Swedish). Additionally, he took up English in secondary school and continued with that language in university, where he picked up Italian as well. Now a 19-year-old college sophomore, Kyuwa had spent the summer studying abroad in Milan to improve his Italian language skills while also taking classes for his psychology degree. His student visa would expire at the end of the following day. Now, he was spending his last night in Italy with his two Milanese flatmates, getting caffeinated and whatnot.

"So, Kilroy," one of them asked in English. He was a brown-haired college student around Kyuwa's own age by the name of Ramone Costa. "What's been your favourite part about Italy throughout this trip?"

Kyuwa thought for a moment. Milan was quite a bit different from Helsinki, and there had been a lot to take in. "The museums," he said at last. "The museums were good." He, Ramone, and their other flatmate, Carina Altera (who happened to be Ramone's girlfriend), had gone to quite a few over the past couple of months.

"Which one did you like the most?" Carina asked. Her dyed, neon-orange hair hung around in front of her face, which she immediately noticed and proceeded to tie back into a ponytail.

Kyuwa found himself again deep in thought. "The Natural History Museum."

Carina nodded. "That one was pretty good." She glanced at her boyfriend, elbowing him. "Get off of your phone, Ramone! You're being rude!"

Ramone winced, placing his phone down on the table. "Sorry. Just a group text."

"Well, you can answer it later!"

Kyuwa tilted his head curiously, brushing the light-blue-dyed hair out of his eyes. "Is it important?"

Ramone shrugged. "It's not an emergency. I'm apparently supposed to keep an eye out for some dude who can replay the past."

Kyuwa raised an eyebrow. "Is this for a DnD campaign?"

"I wish. I don't really understand it myself, to be frank. It's weird, and I can't exactly get into the details. But it can wait."

Kyuwa nodded, though he could hear alarm bells going off in his mind for some reason. But, like Ramone said, it could wait. "Fair enough."

The three continued chatting for the next several minutes. At one point, Carina whispered something in Ramone's ear, and the other Italian turned red before nodding. He glanced up at Kyuwa. "Can you excuse us for a bit?"

Kyuwa nodded, keeping a straight face. Carina probably wants to go somewhere to screw him. Not that I'm complaining; it'll give me some time to understand this nagging feeling of dread in my mind.

The Italians got up from the table, retreating to the back of the bar.

Okay, good. Now's my chance.

Kyuwa made sure he was absolutely alone before preparing to go through Ramone's phone. Normally, he wouldn't do this, but he had to know for certain whether or not the alarms going off in his mind were just false alarms. If they weren't...well, he'd cross that bridge when he'd get to it.

"Mr. Roboto," he whispered.

A robotic humanoid Stand materialised beside him. The tall, stocky apparition had mask-like features on his metallic silver face, and his entire body was covered in similarly-coloured plating.

One interesting feature to note: Mr. Roboto was also sentient.

"Do you want me to go through the messages, Kyuwa-sama?" the Stand asked, voice mechanical in nature.

"Yeah, before he gets back," Kyuwa responded. "Make sure to leave no trace of the phone having been gone through."

"Understood."

Kyuwa watched his Stand get to work, anxiety rushing through him. Mr. Roboto's abilities largely focused on cyberkinesis and acting largely as a walking computer virus, but he was also pretty good in the occasional fist-fight.

"I found something," Mr. Roboto announced, lifting his left palm. The text was projected upwards not unlike one of those hologram communiqués seen in Star Wars. The message was from an unidentified number, but it was a group text sent to at least twenty different people.

But he could not completely understand it, as he only had two-and-a-half semesters' worth of Italian language experience.

"Can you translate it?" Kuywa asked.

The Stand gave a short nod. "I can. Which language do you want it in, Kyuwa-sama?"

"Japanese is fine."

Mr. Roboto pressed his right index finger to the holographic display. Within a few seconds, the text changed into a language that the Stand's user was more proficient in.

"'Find the man who can replay the past,'" Kyuwa read, keeping his voice to a whisper. "'Monitor his movements, but do nothing at this time. We need to determine how much he knows about us before we act. For all I know our rivals could also be searching for him. Stay alert.'" The college student's eyes narrowed. "Interesting."

I guess it's not a false alarm after all.

"Do you want me to save this message?" Mr. Roboto asked.

Kyuwa considered this. "Yeah," he conceded. "But be discreet."

Something just doesn't feel right here.

"Message saved," Mr. Roboto told him. "I erased all traces of my presence."

"Great," Kyuwa responded, though his mind was elsewhere. Mr. Roboto dismissed himself, leaving his user alone with his swirling, anxious thoughts.

I really shouldn't be getting involved. I'm supposed to leave for Finland in less than 24 hours!

But I can't just sit here and do nothing! This guy is more than likely another Stand user. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if someone like me got hurt or killed because of my inaction.

Kyuwa frowned. What should I do? This is so new to me; my adoptive parents are the only other Stand users who I am familiar with.

I guess I should go to them for advice.

Kyuwa sighed, opening his own phone to send a text to his mom.

[Minä]: Juuri selville, että joku voi olla vaarassa. Todennäköisesti toinen Stand-käyttäjä. Mitä minun pitäisi tehdä?

He hit send, receiving a reply a moment later.

[Äiti]: Seuraa mitä luonto kertoo. Jos joudut ylittämään viisumisi viattoman ihmisen auttamiseksi, olkoon niin. Isäsi ja minä emme pidä sitä sinua vastaan.

Follow what nature tells you. If you have to overstay your visa to help an innocent person, so be it. Your father and I won't hold that against you.

Kyuwa sighed with relief. "That's something."

His adoptive parents had told him at a young age how Stand users are often drawn to other Stand users. They had also raised Kyuwa to do what he feels is right, no matter what the consequences were.

He made his decision.

[Minä]: Autan heitä. Kiitos äiti. Nähdään myöhemmin. Rakastan sinua.

Thank you for everything, Äiti, he thought, pressing send. I hope to return to you and Isä soon. But it'll more than likely be after I get deported.

His mobile went off again with another reply from his adoptive mother.

[Äiti]: Minäkin rakastan sinua.

Love you too.

Kyuwa smiled softly. I'm going to find this Stand user, or someone who can help them. His smile faded. But I'll be up against the clock, and on the run from the police starting on Saturday if I'm still in Italy by then. Äiti's probably going to cancel my flight, since she's the one who booked it in the first place. But still...this is gonna be tough.

He exhaled softly. "Dōmo arigatō, Mr. Roboto."

Ramone returned a few minutes later, grinning crookedly as he and Carina held hands. Kyuwa raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure this isn't the best place to go for a quickie."

Ramone rolled his eyes. "We weren't fucking, Kilroy."

"Sure you weren't."

Carina sighed, grinning crookedly. "Okay. You got us."

"Hey!" Ramone protested.

Kyuwa smirked, using a Sharpie he'd brought with him to both draw his rendition of an old cartoon and write a message in English on the back of Ramone's mobile: KILROY WAS HERE.

14 SETTEMBRE 2000, 19:31

MILANO, ITALIA

BAR RUSTICO

Sergio stretched, keeping tabs on the bar overall. Other than noticing that the blue-haired international student he'd served not even ten minutes earlier also had a ghostly manifestation of inner strength, nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. No one had questioned the Stone Mask's presence, or had asked about the bilingual sign and the plexiglass. Or the padlock, for that matter.

Maybe that was just as well.

He continued serving various customers like it was just any other Thursday. Alessandra was working with the alcoholic beverages, while Rafael was busy sweeping up the shattered remains of a wine glass (and wiping up its contents not long afterwards). A black-haired woman in her mid-20s walked to the counter around 19:37-ish (according to the digital clock displayed on the coffee machine). Sergio manned the cash register, flashing her his best customer-service-ready smile. "Buonasera! What can I get for you?"

The woman blinked, handing him some cash (as it was customary in most bars to pay before you order-Bar Rustico was a bit more flexible on that particular rule but followed it nonetheless). Her tawny eyes began to peruse the menu. "Do you do to-go?"

"Indeed we do," Sergio responded, giving her a once-over. "Let me guess: night shift?"

"Bingo." She took one last look at the menu before meeting Sergio's gaze. "I'll have a caffè ginseng and a piadina, both to-go."

Sergio wrote down the order before glancing back up at her. "Got it. Can I get a name for the order?"

"Helena," the woman responded. She looked towards the wall, eyes widening as she bristled and turned white. "Porca puttana! How the fuck did THAT get in here?!"

Sergio turned, seeing that she was referring to the Stone Mask. "It's just some bizarre mask that's been here since last year. There was a bit of an...incident with it a few days ago, so we've had to keep it under lock and key."

That didn't seem to make Helena feel any better. "I'd like to speak to your manager."

Sorry. Can't do that. "He's got the night off," Sergio confessed. "I'm one of the people who actually brought it here, so you can share your misgivings about it with me, Signora."

Helena folded her arms. "Who else was involved?"

"Rafael."

The blond's head poked up. "What about me?"

Sergio frowned. "Get your ass over here; I think this woman wants to talk to you." As a matter of fact… He turned towards the ginger currently standing over by the wall of booze. "Hey, Alessandra! Can you come over here for a minute?"

The other bartender glared at him. "I am not holding your hand while you operate the cash register, jackass."

Sergio gave her a fulminating look. "It's about the Stone Mask. Somebody looks to know something about it."

Alessandra huffed, walking over to the other two baristas, arms folded. "Alright, what is it?"

Helena gestured to the Stone Mask. "I think you guys have already suspected that this thing is dangerous," she said seriously. "But do you have any idea what it actually does?"

Sergio shrugged. "Other than shoot dangerous-looking spikes out the back and more than likely kill whoever might be wearing it if blood gets on that thing, not really."

"He screamed like a little girl when the spikes activated," Rafael added unnecessarily.

Sergio facepalmed. "You weren't there, stronzo."

"I was," Alessandra smirked, turning to Helena. "He did scream like a little kid. But enough about that; what does it actually do? You seem to know quite a bit about it."

"That's because I was on the receiving end of a similar mask's pincers," the black-haired woman said seriously. "That thing...it doesn't kill you. It rewrites your neurobiology, your DNA. You'll no longer be human. You'll be spending the rest of your God-forsaken existence as a vampire. And I'm not talking about the pop culture bullshit, because ninety-nine percent of that stuff is wrong. I'm talking about a near-invincible mutant who can only go out at night, and who can regenerate themselves at will. Sometimes, they even have Stands, just like various humans and other non-humans do."

Sergio raised an eyebrow. "Stands?" he echoed. "What's a Stand?"

"Picture it as a physical manifestation of your inner strength," Helena described. "They can only be seen by other Stand users."

"Huh," Rafael mused, eyes lighting up. "Hey, Sergio. Do you think that's what you and Alessandra have? I mean, is that what your ghosts are?"

"Maybe," Sergio said slowly, summoning Blue Lamp. Alessandra brought out her birds as well. The curly-haired bartender turned to Helena. "Can you see them?"

Helena nodded. "Yep. Those are Stands." A ghostly, humanoid figure appeared beside her, lidless black eyes staring into the depths of the barista's soul.

"I just wish I knew what the hell was going on," Rafael muttered.

Helena flashed him a sympathetic look. "Don't worry; my flatmate doesn't have a Stand, either, and she pretty much says she feels the same way."

"Is she human?" Alessandra asked.

"Yep."

Sergio tilted his head to the side. "Wait...so, that means you're a vampire."

"Correct," Helena responded, lifting part of her top lip upwards to expose a set of fangs.

"That's so freaky," Rafael breathed. "But also cool."

Helena pulled a face. "I wouldn't call it that. I, personally, have found it to be a pain in the ass most of the time."

Huh. Okay. All three Stand users (Sergio was going to have to get used to that moniker) withdrew their Stands (again, a moniker that he was going to have to get used to). "So...if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" Sergio asked.

Alessandra swatted him upside the head with her flesh arm. "Ahem! You've got a crush on me, remember?"

Sergio winced, rubbing the impact spot. "Yeah, I remember. But it's a legit question. She could be centuries old for all I know!"

Helena sighed. "No, it's okay. He's got a point. I'm twenty-six. I only got hit by those stone spikes last January." She glanced at them. "Anyway, I don't want to hold you guys up."

Rafael shook his head. "Nah, you're fine. It's better that we know what the hell this thing is, anyway."

Sergio glanced at her. "We'll get your order taken care of right away. I know you probably have to go to work soon."

"I don't have to be there until 20:30," Helena responded. "But, yeah. Thanks for hearing me out."

Sergio nodded. "Of course."

Helena moved, standing by the corner. Fortunately, there was no line.

"Do you think this is legit?" Alessandra whispered.

"It's got to be," Rafael whispered back. "I mean, granted, I can't see Stands so I don't fully understand what's going on but she looked to be telling the truth."

Sergio sighed, finishing up with Helena's coffee. "Given what Alessandra and I went through with those other vampires who attempted to steal that mask a few days ago, I think this Helena character is the real deal."

"Great," Alessandra muttered, checking the time on the oven. "We need to find a way to keep in touch with her."

"I'm pretty sure she has a mobile or something," Rafael suggested. "It is the 21st Century, after all."

"We'll ask her about it once her order's finished," Alessandra responded. "The piadina's only got another 30 seconds or so left before it's done."

"Her coffee's already finished," Sergio informed her. "I'll go bring it to her."

Alessandra nodded. "No flirting."

Sergio rolled his eyes. "No need to worry; vampires aren't my type."

"That's a relief."

Sergio walked over to where Helena was standing, handing her the coffee. "Here you go. Sorry about the wait."

"Don't sweat it," Helena responded. "What are your names?"

"I'm Sergio," Sergio responded. "The other dude is Rafael, and the ginger chick is Alessandra. We were talking, and-"

"You wanted to stay in touch because this matter is important to you and you need an ally by your side," Helena finished, cutting him off.

Sergio raised an eyebrow. "How could you tell?"

Helena gestured to one of her ears. "Vampires have really good hearing."

"...Good to know."

"Piadina for Helena!" Alessandra announced, placing a paper bag on the bar counter. Rafael wasn't far behind her.

Helena set her coffee down next to her food. "Grazie." She reached around in her purse, pulling out a pen and notepad. She wrote something on it, ripping off a piece and handing it to them. "My contact info, in case you need to talk."

Sergio nodded. He grabbed his barista notepad and pen, writing down his name and number before passing it to Rafael and Alessandra, who did the same. Alessandra ripped off the page, handing it to Helena. "Here you go."

The vampire nodded, placing the note in her coat pocket.

"Can I ask you something real quick?" Rafael asked.

Helena tilted her head to the side, curious. "Ask away."

Rafael looked slightly embarrassed. "Don't you normally drink blood or something?"

Helena chuckled. "Mainly as a pick-me-up, but I still eat like any normal person would. Caffeine, water, and food are still a vital part of my diet. Blood isn't the only thing we take in."

Rafael nodded. "Just curious."

"It's not a bad thing to be curious about." She took her beverage and food, flashing them a fang-filled smile. "Have a good evening!"

"Yeah, you as well!" Alessandra responded.

Helena left the establishment. The three bartenders looked at each other, bewildered looks on their faces. "Okay, what the actual fuck just happened?" Alessandra asked. "Did we just say yes to working with a vampire...even though we're planning on hunting down vampires?"

"Apparently," Rafael responded.

"I mean, vampires are people too," Sergio pointed out. "Don't judge her by her fangs and such, Alessandra."

"I'm not," she denied. "But...is this really happening? Don't answer that; I know the answer is 'yes.' I'm still processing it."

"You're not the only one."

Alessandra and Rafael went back to taking care of various patrons. Sergio reached for his mobile, preparing to add Helena's contact info, when he was distracted by a notification on his phone. He raised an eyebrow, seeing a group text from an unknown number. He glanced through the recipients, recognising several of the other couriers from his side job.

I guess this is how the boss is relaying info now.

There had been talk of an overhaul in how information was to be communicated for the better part of a week now. Apparently one of the Club Galassia patrons had a ghost-no, Stand-that could replay past events, and the boss hadn't been too thrilled when she'd found out about it. There were rumours that she wanted him dealt with, but those were only rumours. But she had enemies, so her fears were justified.

Sergio read through the text message, eyes narrowing.

[Nome Sconosciuto]: Trova l'uomo che può riprodurre il passato. Monitora i suoi movimenti, ma non fare nulla in questo momento. Dobbiamo determinare quanto sa di noi prima di agire. Per quanto ne so, anche i nostri rivali potrebbero cercarlo. Stai attento.

"Huh," Sergio muttered, reading through the message again. I guess she does want us to keep an eye on him.

"What?" Rafael asked.

Sergio pocketed his mobile. "Stuff from Cavalieri di Cydonia," he responded. "Nothing really to worry about."

His flatmate nodded. Rafael was aware of his side job as a courier for the underground organisation, but he didn't seem to have a problem with it. It wasn't like they'd gotten into deep shit with the mafia or anything.

But still...I guess I now have a random Stand user to find, on top of all of this.