TIME OF THE SEASONS

The club known as Two of Hearts was famous in Vale for two reasons: information and hedonism.

Anyone who visited Junior's establishment shared the same motivations for coming. Wealth, power, and escape from their daily, mundane lives. Participating in the mystics of sex, alcohol, and violence, the shallow crowds of humans and faunus alike jumped up and down in place to the beat with religious fervor as the DJ set their pace with his basslines.

Wide-screen TVs hung from the walls, displaying ads, music videos, and-on slow days-even sports. Artificial smoke poured from the machines behind them, and the obnoxious lightshow of flickering neon strobe lights was enough to cause even the most desensitized individuals a major headache.

Hidden away in the corner near the purple dance floor, the comparatively calmer bar was lit with a neon blue light that made the lines of alcohol brands adorning the shelves clear. This was where the true value of the club laid for anyone who wasn't a teenager or young adult who simply just wanted to get their dicks wet or get eaten out. The humble bartender and owner of the club ran his real business here.

Information trading.

Hei "Junior" Xiong's day to day life was surprisingly mundane despite dealing with underworld criminals and government officials alike, sans the occasional scandal caused by his nieces or the occasional asshole, piece of shit blonde.

Among the crowd of idiot teens or loser adults, one face caused Junior to stop mixing the drink for one seashell-covered young man who had been catatonic for the past few hours, as if he had been tainted and none of his usual coping mechanisms were helping-judging by how his depression how gotten worse with each figurative beat down to his liver.

Junior examined the blonde's face again and dismissed it. It was likely just him being paranoid. Junior continued his mixing.

He hadn't asked for any drinks. Junior just decided he looked like he needed one.

Not that he was attempting to get this guy drunk. The guy just possessed a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance. Like the kid could drink rubbing alcohol and still be perfectly fine.

"Don't worry about the drinks by the way. This was just my good deed for the day." Junior clarified, not wanting to create any misunderstandings. He had been the one to give the guy drinks. It wasn't like him to charge people for refreshments they hadn't ordered themselves. Junior wasn't a conman like Roman. "Don't expect me to do this again."

"Thank you." The seashell boy expressed his gratitude. "I never expected you to give me free drinks in the first place. I don't believe in taking advantage of someone's kindness. I'll repay you for this, but not in cash, one day."

"So what's your deal? Care to spill any stories?"

The boy sighed as he took another sip of the glass, whiskey burned down his throat, but he hadn't noticed. "Sure, why not?"

"When I was a kid, I was a real wild child. Used to cause my older brother a lot of stress," the young man looked despondent.

If someone were to unjustly punch him in the back of the head, Junior doubted he'd retaliate, but, in that same depression, there was an unmistakable fury. A fire coursed through that young man's veins. Unrefined and immature, it was nothing like the type of mature rage Junior saw in the veteran huntsman who had lost teammates, but it was powerful and overwhelming nonetheless.

Red hot and passionate. It resembled the kind of fury that caused people to act reckless. Junior had only ever seen such blazing passion in the suicidal maniac children who had lost a relative to the Grimm and naïvely promised themselves to kill them all. Junior also wasn't a fan of the way the boy shifted in place as if to fruitlessly hide two large and rectangular objects underneath his clothes. However, Junior dealt with suspicious allies on a near-daily basis.

"Especially considering our parents. They were always too busy with either their jobs, or maybe they just never gave a shit about us, I never knew what it was until I came into my father's room one day and found him in bed with a woman that was clearly not my mother. I think I was seven at the time."

Junior began washing glasses in the sink with a towel as he absorbed the seashell man's story. "That's pretty tough for a kid to swallow, huh?"

"Yeah, but I got over it. When my mom shot him in the head in front of us, now, that was traumatic. Took out a revolver and pointed it to his head one Sunday night at the dinner table. I can still remember how nasty her meatloaf tasted that night when she just… snapped. There was this one painting she had hung up on the wall behind us every dinner. I think it was a replica of one of Caravaggio's works, but it became unrecognizable after brain matter and bone splattered across its canvas."

Junior slumped, but he quickly stood straight again. He hadn't become an informant by being some bleeding heart. Roman would have chewed him out for that a week ago, but his friend had gone through some changes that Junior couldn't quite explain recently. Like he was standing straighter and skipping about, but it was all robotic.

Roman hadn't engaged in, to quote the man, "some of the old ultra-violence" recently either.

"She was like some ravenous beast, ready to kill at a moment's notice. So when she pointed the revolver at me, I damn pissed myself. Would have shat myself too, but my brother stepped in… and using a steak knife, he put her down while I was frozen still." Another sip. "He was always the best. Would take me to roller coasters or carnivals when I was a kid. Honestly, I considered him to be more of a parent than those two."

"Not to be rude, but is there a reason why you're using past tense here?" Junior began to put away the now-clean glasses as a group of three sat down next to the mysterious seashell man. One oddly familiar redhead with two guys beside her, and, judging by their muscle mass, they were all likely huntsmen in training.

"Yeah…" The man sighed. "When we were kids, we ended up being adopted by some government official, and my bro thought it was a good idea to get jobs in government too. I never was big on it, but wherever my bro went, I followed. Occasionally, we'd get missions from our higher ups, and one day, we got this one to stop some horse jockey from taking something from some vault."

"I'm guessing it didn't go as planned?"

"You got it in one." Gymno's expression fell further. "The guy got away, and we thought all was good. I mean, we were both safe, so that was all that mattered, right? So, when my bro took me on a rollercoaster later that day, I thought we were fine."

"If that's the case, then how did he die?" Junior raised an eyebrow at the story's sudden shift. Had it not been for the man's clearly genuine emotions on display, he would have written him off already, but Hei found himself mysteriously captivated.

"This… horse jockey, I think, had some ability that he used on my brother. While we were on the ride, he suddenly started to act like he had gotten a scratch at first, but… then his face began to look like it was getting punched and…" His voice hitched, as his emotions clearly came through to a peak. He pressed a hand to his mouth, but Junior wasn't sure if it was either a laugh or a sob, even with the context of his story. "Fuck, man. The next thing I knew, he had a fist-sized hole through his head, as if someone had shot a baseball through it. At first, I thought it was funny how everyone around me panicked when brains splattered on them, but…"

Junior stopped to look the man in his eyes.

"That's when it finally registered to you?"

The seashell faunus, Junior assumed, simply nodded.

"Hey, Jauney, do you drink?" The kid who had just sat down began prodding the other boy, but something he said caused the seashell man to stare up from his catatonic state at the blonde hatefully.

"... Well, I guess I do, but I've only ever had wine."

"Actually, isn't tonight a school night for you?" The redhead asked without looking at him. "I don't think your team will appreciate having to deal with a hungover leader."

"Eh, my dad always gets wasted every night, and he's a politician. It's fine really." Cardin gestured to Junior awkwardly, recalling the incident from the night prior and trying to forget it simultaneously. The seashell man got up from his seat as he stared at the blond's head balefully. "Besides, that's a problem for future CRDL to tackle."

Junior really didn't like the look on his patron's face right now. It looked like he was attempting to burn the young man alive with his gaze alone.

"Hey, I'm not going to stop you from fighting right now, but please don't do that in my-"

Gymno Somata's form doubled as his stand, his very soul, emerged from his back, and he ignored Junior's plea despite the kindness the club owner had shown him previously.

It was ghastly. Its vertical mouth extended from the top of its porcelain, clam-shaped head and dripped with saliva that threatened to spill onto the ground. A pair of conch shells folded over into the facsimile of wings that jutted out from where its shoulders should have been. As if it wore a cloak made of serrated sea shells over its black pipe-like arms.

Jaune's body tensed as he turned to face the enemy.

"You know, I was actually sent here by my team 'cause they detected the spine, and they wanted me to find someone and then take it from them, but I kinda hoped I would run into you here. I planned on paying you back in full for Pinctada."

The stand grabbed Jaune's glass of water before wildly flinging the liquid at the dancers and Junior in an arching motion.

"I should have figured it out though. Stand users are attracted to other stand users, so it was only a matter of time I caught up to you, JOJO! Or do you prefer Joe kid?" Gymno scratched the back of his head as his stand recoiled back from its own attack. "Oh well, it's not like it matters."

Jaune broke out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat at the surprise usage of the nickname his baby sister had called him when she couldn't properly pronounce his name.

While in mid-air, the liquid immediately turned into sharp solid droplets of H2O, causing Pyrrha's and Junior's auras to flare up in defense, but, under the influence, Cardin found himself unable to do anything as the water sliced through his hands, severing them completely at his wrists.

The ten closest people behind him were not so lucky, being completely bisected into pieces as chaos broke out. The dancers had stopped completely as the DJ hid behind his station before screaming and running to the exit. Their entrails scattered across the dance floor, ruining it once again. The strobe lights continued their dance on their corpses, continuing their meaningless, hedonistic ritual.

"AHHHHHHH!" Cardin screeched as he stared at the two bleeding stumps where his hands once were; the pain just finally registered to him as his aura flickered uselessly, attempting to heal but too inhibited by the alcohol Cardin had haphazardly guzzled down. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"Jaune! We need to get out of here!" Pyrrha screamed at her defenseless partner. "Nora and Ren aren't going to be able to help us if they try to get down from their perch on the roof in this chaos!"

"TIME OF THE SEASON!"

Gymno roared.

"You're not fucking going anywhere! I want this to be a fair fight! I want to prove that you're just a failing piece of shit when you try your hardest, Johnny!"

Wrapping his arms on the opposite sides of his stomach on the two rectangular objects he had attempted to hide awkwardly from Junior earlier, Gymno pulled out two smoke machines he had stolen from the club and blasted them at Pyrrha and Junior, immobilizing them in place with his stand ability and suffocating Pyrrha by covering her nose and mouth.

"Hey!" Junior's mouth opened but was quickly silenced as smoke covered his lips, but left his nostrils open for breathing.

Gymno took a step towards Jaune as Pyrrha struggled against her smokey bonds, gasping for air but unable to open her mouth.

"JOHNNY JOESTAR! I'll kill you not to get the Holy Corpse back. I'll kill you to pay you back for fucking killing my brother!" Gymno pointed at Jaune as his stand crossed its arms over one another.

His head turned towards the cowardly DJ.

"Hey! Play something with some fucking kick to it!"

Trembling, a pair of hands came from underneath the DJ station before tapping the scroll on the counter, and the speakers adorning the club began to blare with his basslines.

"Hmph..." Gymno rubbed his chin, disapproving of the DJ's choice. "Man, this world's music choice sucks!"

Gymno made a swiping motion with his hand at nothing in particular. "Play some fucking classical!"

The DJ mumbled. "I thought it was good…"

"Well, it sucked!"

Still trembling, the DJ's hands appeared out from under his station and desperately reached out for his scroll, tapping furiously as if to somehow force the device to operate faster.

Jaune grabbed a barstool to defend himself as the one beside him began floating with black energy surrounding it.

Gymno made a somewhat angry but pleased hum. "That's better, dude, but not by much. What's with all this weird instrument shit?"

The DJ whimpered.

Cardin laid on the ground, still frozen at the sight of his stumps.

The club vibrated to the sound of the music as it swelled to a head.

"Let's get fucking started, dickbreath! Take out your fucking stand!" Gymno threw another blow with his stand, intending to strike Jaune's temple with a sharp end of one of its wings.

At the sudden assault and Cardin's condition, Jaune's adrenaline skyrocketed as he gripped tighter on the metal stands of his barstool seat and used it to block the blow from his attacker. "What are you talking about?!"

The black barstool spun in place before Pyrrha launched it at Gymno.

"I'm not gonna immobilize you! I'll cut you to fucking pieces!"

"I don't even know you!" Jaune replied, accidentally ignoring the ringing scroll in his back pocket.

Those were the decidedly wrong words to say as Gymno's facial features twisted into pure rage. His brow furrowed, and his lip peeled back before he wet his hand with water once more, cutting Pyrrha's attempt to attack him using her semblance in half.

A deep gash cut through Jaune's chest, ripping apart Ren's blazer and tee-shirt as well as staining it a dark crimson.

"TAKE OUT YOUR FUCKING STAND, GOD DAMN IT!"

Another gash on the opposite side of his chest appeared, tearing through his flesh once more.

Pyrrha watched on in horror, unable to breathe, as Jaune was critically injured.

Jaune's lack of reaction only seemed to make the man angrier.

"I SAID TAKE IT OUT! ARE YOU DEAF?!"

Jaune's legs trembled as he felt his strength give out.

Another gash, this time to his casts, revealing the raw skin and the stitches underneath and cutting his arms to shreds.

Each time he threw water onto him, the more Jaune's cuts increased in size.

Pyrrha, powerless for the second time in her life, felt tears burn from her eyes as she was forced to watch Jaune get killed.

"I said…" Gymno seemed to get disheartened as the 'fight' progressed.

Was this kid even Johnny Joestar to begin with?

Looking closer at his face…

No.

He wasn't.

Gymno's frown returned as he made his way behind the mostly unconscious Jaune Arc, and he reached out to take the boy's Corpse part from his spine.

Only to be stopped when a pair of transparent white chains wrapped around his arm, seemingly pulling the spinal cord back instead

"What the?"

A small, white, quadrupedal horned animal with small little limbs that ended in crescents on its sides blocked him from removing it any further. It's square head was like that of a hippo or a rhinoceros with a shy robotic, metal grin. Across the being's skin, a number of blue stars and gold waves wrapped around its cylindrical body. Its eyes were large and beady, like that akin to a bulldog. Its long tail was like that of a pulley, ending in the white chains that currently wrapped around the Holy Corpse part and covered the boy's fists into gauntlet-like gloves. It resembled a dog to a degree, but the button nose looked more akin to that of a stuffed animal.

"Chuchuchu…"

Gymno let go of the spine, and the bones fused back into the boy's body.

Eight more chains wrapped themselves around the boy's torn body, pulling the nearly dismembered torso and organs back together, not healing Jaune but at least keeping him from spilling his guts out and stopping his profuse bleeding.

Despite his light-headedness, Jaune's hazed-over eyes cleared themselves.

His fists tightened as he stood up. His stand being the only force keeping him together.

"THE CHAIN!"

Seemingly knowing what to do instinctively, Jaune got into a fighter's stance-with his arms bent and fists clenched-as his hair gel, now wet and useless, gave out. His bloodied blond bangs fell in front of his sapphire-colored eyes.

The DJ turned the music volume up.

Cardin passed out after he tightened the wrappings around his bleeding arms with his teeth.

Pyrrha made one last gamble and activated her semblance, launching the cut black metal frames of a barstool into the back of Gymno's skull at mach speed. Gymno's skull jutted forwards as he accidentally slammed his head against the bar counter.

Concussed, Gymno turned his head back towards her, diverting his attention away from Jaune.

Black flames billowed.

Jaune launched himself forwards before Gymno could attack his partner. One of the eight chains currently wrapped around his arms and torso shot out at the man, grabbing at his seashell "hair" and tearing it, the glue, and the skin on Gymno's scalp off.

SPLURTT!

"GAH!" Scarlet spilled down Gymno's round face. Tears poured down the sides of his hook nose, but if anything, the scalping had just pissed him off further.

Jaune's fist flew into his nose, smashing it into two different places. Gymno's other arm wrapped itself around Jaune's throat as a sinister idea bubbled in his mind.

He wasn't doing this for revenge or to save anyone. Gymno didn't give a shit anymore.

This shit was what he fucking lived for. He should have seen the signs earlier. That day when his Mom killed his Dad?

An addicting rush flooded Gymno's body with each near-death encounter he had. That was why he loved rollercoasters and why he loved sticking his head out of train car windows when available.

Damn the good. Damn the bad. He lived for loving the thrills of life and death equally.

Activating his stand ability on the new supply of liquid, Gymno threw his head back, intending to decapitate Jaune with his stand ability and with his blood. His soul and his flesh concurred with one another for seemingly the first time in forever as he attempted to kill the auraless huntsman-in-training.

A twisted grin grew.

BAM!

Jaune's head came out from its placement under Gymno's shoulder.

...

...

...

...

A hole shot through Gymno's forehead and exited through the back of his skull, painting the lines of alcohol brands with brains and bone shards alike.

Still panting and shell-shocked, Jaune threw the corpse holding him off of him.

The smoke turned into gas once more, saving Pyrrha from a grisly demise.

Turning his head around, Jaune looked up to see his saviors.

Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren stood besides Johnny Joestar in the doorway of the now evacuated club entrance.

On the saddle of his horse with no name, Johnny looked down at the bloodied boy in front of him.

Ren knew something had gone desperately wrong as soon as people began running away screaming from the club. Nora too, but they hadn't brought their weapons on an outing like this.

They were just meant to find that guy. Not get into fights or anything. So why?

Why wasn't Jaune picking up his scroll?

Then, Ren saw him from across the street. His horse forcing a path ahead, the man pushed past the crowds of people attempting to crush him in hopes of escaping the danger inside. There was something unnatural yet familiar about it, however. Not physically, as he did look a lot like his own team leader, but the look in his eyes was familiar for reasons Ren couldn't place.

He didn't know why the man was running inside.

He didn't look like he had the most noble intentions.

Gesturing to Nora, Ren jumped down to intercept the man before he kicked down the door with some golden energy, forcing its hinges to break, and he fired something from his index finger as he propped himself back up on his black horse.

That fated day…

Back when I was on the verge of death, bleeding and covered in gashes on the dance floor of a club I didn't even like. The music gave me migraines, and I wasn't a fan of the person who brought me there either, but…

I saw something beautiful yet unknown. I don't mean that in a physical sort of beauty sense. No, I mean it in a more philosophical sense.

A normal person is typically attracted to this kind of beauty. It's an awe-inspiring leadership trait, or so my partner says, but Johnny was something different. A whole separate breed from the types of teachers we had at Beacon prior to him. His advice was nothing like we had ever been told before, and honestly?

I think he did a better job at giving us the skills to defend ourselves from humans, faunuses, and Grimm alike than any of his co-workers.

For me, however, he was a sign of hope. A sign that I could become great too. That I could become something more. That I could escape this miserable fate shackling me down.

Either way, let me tell you a little story from my own past…

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Ah jeez. I had been meaning to crosspost this on here from AO3 earlier, but I neglected it. Sorry.

Please rate and review!

I recommend leaving comments and checking out the fic on Archive of Our Own though. I ended up paying a bit more attention there to the author's notes, and I also have some gimmicky stuff. For example, during the club music scene, I actually included links to the songs I imagined were playing during then. I definitely had a lot of fun here. I'm also currently looking for a beta, but chances are as I head back for Junior year of college, things might get more intense. Thank you for reading thus far!