Ch. 6
Ryuusei no Saddle

NOVEMBER 25TH, 1988
15:04
OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN

The flight from New York to Japan would take about thirteen to fourteen hours. And in that span of time, during their waking moments, Joaquín and Della were amazed at everything old Joseph spoke with them about. They had learned a bit more about the hamon, which his (unbeknownst to him at the time) mother helped him improve upon. And he went into more detail about Stands, which seemed to have some minor ties to hamon as well.

"Just like hamon, you can't properly use it unless your breathing is stable," explained Joseph to the two. "The same goes with your body, physically and mentally. If you're unfocused, your Stand's strength will weaken. The same works in reverse, as I'm assuming you already know."

"I've seen it before," said Della, who took a swig of some soda given to her by a stewardess. "Say, you mentioned that some outside force might have had a hand in yours and Jojo's Stands awakening."

Joaquín felt she had a good point. Neither were born with them, only just recently attaining them. He asked his grandfather if he knew what was causing it, only to be told, "I'll explain when we get there." And so he left it at that.

Aside from Stands and hamon, Joseph spoke about his life. He was apparently the grandson of a noble, and his inheritance allowed him to form his own real estate agency. He was married to his mother's maid and had lived in New York since he was 18. That same year, his life had changed forever when he became entangled with Nazis and god-like beings known as the Pillar Men; they were the ones responsible for the creation of vampires.

"There were four of them." Joseph counted them off on his fingers. "The one the Nazi's called Santana, then there's Esidisi, Whamuh, and the leader, Kahz. They were beyond anything I've ever fought, even to this day. To have killed two of them was nothing short of a dumb, lucky miracle."

"T-Two," said Della shakily. "What about the ones who s-survived?"

"They've both been turned to stone. Santana is being watched by the foundation and Kahz is, well…" He looked out the window towards the empty sky, the clouds a sea of white below them. "I doubt he'll be coming back from outer space any time soon. That volcano shot us way up there."

Both youths' eyes were as wide as dinner plates. The more and more his grandfather spoke, the more admiration Joaquín had for him. He had such an exciting life, where almost every day was a battle. But there was also pain Joaquín had noticed in his eyes back at the airport. Curious about it, he carefully asked, "Hey, Abuelito? Did anything bad happen back then? When you were fighting these guys?"

Joseph smiled briefly when he was addressed like this, and it did not falter when he spoke again. "Yes. Back then, I met a man named Caesar Zeppeli. He was the grandson of the man who taught my grandfather hamon. He was a cocky bastard, and our personalities and values clashed every now and then. But under the tutelage of my mother, our rivalry became a friendly one. I considered him as a brother. Then, one day, we got into a heated argument about our heritage."

"What happened after that?"

"He lost against one of the Pillar Men. And before he died, he offered the last of his hamon, and a ring that contained an antidote for the poison I was about to suffer from…" He was still looking outside. Maybe he sees him out there in the clouds, thought Joaquín with a somber smile. "If I could travel back in time, I would stop that silly argument between those two knuckle-headed punks."

Della leaned from behind them and patted his broad shoulder consolingly. "You can't change the past. If he were still here, he would tell you to move on. What's done is done. Besides, I'm sure he's looking down at you with a smile for remembering him as your friend."

"Thank you, Della. I appreciate it." He then turned to his grandson and asked, "Are you nervous?"

He's talking about mom. "Of course I am," he nervously chuckled. "I'm her son, and she hasn't been in my life at all. We know as less about each other than you and I do now. I have so many questions in my head, and I'm just… afraid of the outcome. I don't know what she would say and do.

"Well, as I said, I'm certain she would welcome you with open arms. Family means everything to her. Speaking of which, you know you have a stepfather, correct?"

"Obviously, if her last name isn't Joestar anymore."

"That's right. But… you should know, she had a son with him."

The revelation was more impactful than him finding out Joseph Joestar was his maternal grandfather. He looked at him with wide blue eyes and sputtered, "I-I-I have a brother?! Why didn't you tell me sooner!"

"K-Keep your voice down!" He had almost forgotten they were on an airplane, and several people were trying to sleep. "Yes, you do. A younger brother. Seventeen years old. His name is Joutarou. And when you see her, I'm certain you'll also get to meet him as well."

Joaquín's worry melted away into giddy anxiousness. He wanted this flight to speed up so he could arrive in Japan and meet his younger sibling. He had always wanted a little brother so he could play games with him and teach him to fight. When he closed his eyes for a moment to picture him, he envisioned a lighter skinned version of himself with Asian features and a school uniform (He is seventeen, so he ought to still be a student.).

"Do you know what he's like?"

Joseph scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I haven't seen him since he was a little boy. From what I remember, he had a bit of an attitude. He also ran a lot. Quite a bit of energy. And he wasn't born with hamon. Neither was Holly, now that I think about it."

"Maybe whatever she had in her was passed down to me?"

"I don't know, because my father never had the hamon. I got mine from my mother, who was trained in it by her adopted father Straizo."

The vampire who had stalked Joseph and set him on the path of his inescapable destiny to battle the Pillar Men. It was the first story he had told, which Mayor Smokey had been an audience to. The mention of this man's name made Della inexplicably perk up. "Hey, wait a minute. Straizo… Now that you mention him again, I think I remember a story about him from my grandmother.

"You've heard of Straizo," asked Joseph with surprise.

"Bits and pieces of it… My grandmother mentioned some weirdo with that name took her hostage, and some other weirdo blew him up. She told me he almost refused to save her. And called her an ugly bitch and let her tooth get yanked out."

Joseph almost shrieked as he pulled away from her. It was his turn to have his eyes like plates "You're that girl's granddaughter?!"

Della's eyes lit up as she slowly turned to him. Her voice became low and dangerous, a first for Joaquin's ears. It was oddly cute. "Wait... Are you saying that you're that guy that saved her?"

"Y-Yes," he said meekly, right before getting slapped into the back of another seat. Joaquín laughed, as did Della. He couldn't see it, but he felt that Mohamed, who sat beside her, had cracked an amused smile.

The rest of the ride was a pleasant one for the group, filled with laughs and devoid of any more slaps.

~+JO*JO+~

They had landed at New Tokyo International Airport around six. Joaquín and Della sat down with Mohamed as he told them interesting stories about Egypt and other places he had visited. He also mentioned how he had met Joseph three years ago during a business trip to New York. Joseph, meanwhile, had phoned Holly to come and pick them up, not mentioning that her firstborn was with him. I think it's better to leave it as a surprise, but that just makes me feel more nervous than seeing her at her home.

Della, who picked up on his tenseness, patted his back "You can do this, Jojo," she reassured in a low voice. "I know it's not easy, but you're strong. This is your family. She won't turn away from you. I promise."

Joaquin wasn't sure if he should believe her or not. But being that she was his closest friend, he couldn't help but trust her intuition. He silently thanked her as Joseph returned, though when he looked up, he noticed that he looked put off by something. He sat up straight and asked, "Abuelito, did something happen?"

"Holly's coming," he answered, "but we also have to pick your brother up from the police station."

"What?!"

"He got into a fight with some punks. Apparently, he's possessed by an 'evil spirit', he told her."

"That's gotta be a Stand," Joaquín guessed. "That would make sense. When I went home after I woke mine, I thought I was possessed, too."

"Likewise. And that poor boy's been in there for almost four days."He sighed and shook his fist and sniffed in melancholic scorn. "It's been far too long. He probably doesn't even remember what I look like. I can't understand why my only daughter chose to start a life halfway across the world. Damn Japa-"

"¡Abuelito! Cut the racism!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

He barely knew his brother either, only knowing he was a bit of a rough child growing up. Hearing that he was in jail painted a newer mental picture of him. Now he imagined someone that looked like him in a scruffy uniform, his hair cut into a stereotypical pompadour Japanese punks were depicted with in the manga he used to read. Admittedly, Joaquin was a punk in his own right, but he had never done anything that would land him in jail. Joutarou… Just what kind of person are you? I need to know…

A half hour passed. Joseph has been walking around the terminal, lost in thought, and the others were busy going through their belongings, when there was a sudden cry of, "Papa! Over here, papa!"

The voice caught Joaquín's complete attention. He turned to the sound and his blood froze. He knew the face of the lady who called out to her father. How could he forget the young face he had seen multiple times in his photo album, with that long, reddish brown hair, and those wide, light blue eyes?

It was none other than Holly Kuujou. His mother.

The woman ran right into her father's arms, who pushed a man out of the way to reach her. It had been a few years since they last met, from what Joaquín understood. When you're living on the opposite side of the world, it would be pretty difficult to take time and see your family.

"Aw, that's so touching," said Della with a soft smile. "Wouldn't you-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence when Joaquín shot out of his seat towards them. He pushed his grandfather aside before embracing his mother for the first time in his life. Holly was frozen on the spot as he buried his face in her shoulder, shaking and trying not to break down. He was feeling a bizarre mixture of happiness, anger, and sadness all at once. One thing was for certain:

He didn't want to let her go.

"Ah, who are you," she asked innocently as he pulled her away to see her face. She was not as young as he had remembered in her pictures. Small lines formed around her eyes and lips, betraying her youth.

"I-I…" He was choking on his words. Now that he was here, right in front of her, he couldn't speak. It took a second before he regained his voice, though it was still cracking under the pressure of a sob. "I'm Joaquín… I'm your s-son… I.. I found you, mama…"

And now it was his mother's turn to choke on her words. Tears flowed freely, and to the joy of his swelling heart, she hugged her eldest son tightly. Finally, he let loose and broke down in happiness against her. As did she. She didn't reject him, as he subconsciously feared the whole trip. He was welcomed with more than happily open arms. It was far sooner than he had anticipated, but Joaquín finally met his mother. The embrace lasted for a few minutes before they broke it, red-eyed and smiling.

"You're so tall," she said. "And you look like-"

"Abuelito when he was younger," Joaquín finished for her. "And his abuelito before him."

"But you have my eyes." He blushed at the compliment. Holly's warm and watery smile faltered, and immediately he saw her guilt set in. "Joaquín, I'm so sorry I left you. I was a selfish mother. I should have-"

But he put a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Mom, it's okay. Whatever happened back then, I forgive you. I'm just… I'm just happy I can finally meet you. Although, I wish it was under better circumstances." And he went on to briefly explain his situation to her. When he finished, Holly looked even sadder. "Did you still love dad?"

"P-Partly. I know my heart belongs to my husband, but I've never stopped loving him. Even after the f-fallout… Oh, Joaquín… I can only imagine the pain you must be going through. But don't you worry… You have me, papa and Joutarou."

"It's okay. Thank you." He hugged her again, hoping it would make her smile again. It did, for when his grandfather interrupted their moment with a cough, he saw her face aglow with comfort.

"I don't wish to be rude, Holly," said Joseph as he fixed the fedora he had put on after landing, "but aren't we supposed to pick up my other grandson?"

She had almost forgotten, having been caught up with her estranged son. "Oh, yes! Of course!" And when she noticed Della and Mohamed getting up, she looked apologetic, "Oh, I'm sorry. I had caught a taxi for us to go in. I wasn't anticipating extra company. Will you all be able to fit?"

"Sure can, ma'am," piped up Della, grabbing a hold of her suitcase. "I can just sit in Joaquín's lap during the ride."

If there was one thing Joaquín was thankful for is that comedic nosebleeds were impossible. But her comment did leave him three shades redder than usual. Do you have to s-say that out loud, he screamed in his own head, embarrassed. Shit, I hope nothing pops out and pokes her. I might as well be saying my prayers now…

They had all left the terminal and the airport as a whole to a taxi waiting outside. Its trunk was spacious enough for three suitcases, two book bags, and a duffel bag (Mohamed's). It was a cramped ordeal when it came to sitting. Mohamed took the front as the rest sat behind. With both Joaquín and Joseph's size, the women were almost squished in their seats. Neither of them minded, however.

"Now, Holly, "said Joseph, taking a serious tone. "Are you sure Joutarou said it was an 'evil spirit'?"

"Yes," she said worriedly. "The policemen couldn't see it, but I could. Another hand came out of Joutarou, and then he shot himself and the hand caught the bullet! It was as clear as day, yet nobody else could see it! It was just scary!"

"He probably felt the same when he tried shooting himself," added Joaquín. He then asked her, "Has he had anything like this before?"

"No, and it was the first time I've seen it myself."

Sounds like Joutarou's suffering from the same effects as me and Abuelito. But… if this is her first time seeing a Stand, then… "Mom, what about you? Do you feel any different? Are you feeling sick?"

"Not at all. I feel just fine, but now that you mention it, Joutarou did feel sick before he left home that day. And now he won't come out of his cell until he finds out the cause of this. Oh, what should we do..?"

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that you can stop worrying. Abuelito and I know what's happening to him." And to you, he secretly thought, feeling somewhat perturbed about his mother potentially having a Stand. "You can count on us to get him out."

Now that they talked about it, Joaquín got to wondering about his brother again. This time on his Stand. It can catch a bullet. Just like Preciosa can. Is it even the same type? I mean, that would be pretty interesting to see. However, with his interest, there also came worry. But just how strong is it? More importantly, am I gonna have to fight it? Fight my own brother? That's now how you make a first impression.

They didn't stop at her home quite yet. Rather, they stopped at the police station where Joaquin's brother was held. They left the cab's meter running. The driver didn't mind, but he was shocked to find out a prisoner was going to join them.

"You're really gonna let a hoodlum in here," he asked incredulously to the group. "What if he decides to mug me?"

"Keep your pants on, he won't mug you," Joaquín reassured in Japanese before stepping into the station. Inside, a stout officer with a receding hairline told them all about how Joutarou got into a bloody fight with four other thugs. Now locked up, he had scared the other prisoners with his "evil spirit" and made things mysteriously appear in the cell.

The group was led down to the holding cells. There was a cold silence. Almost all of them were empty, all except the last two Looking carefully over the officer, who stopped them at a certain distance, Joaquín saw that one of the cells held three thugs, each looking at them and shaking their bruised and scared faces. Joutarou must have beaten them up. Or maybe it was his Stand.

He could just barely see the last cell. But what he could see in there were several questionable items lining its wall. A punching bag, leather jackets, weights, books, bikes (one a work-out type), and even an RC car. He had to wonder how on Earth he was able to bring these things into his cell, given how he's separated by walls of concrete.

The officer, who had seen what he had seen, was now quaking in his shoes. "Oh geez. I-It happened again." There was a quiver in his voice. "He made m-more things appear in his cell."

"You mean this isn't the first time," asked Joaquín in Japanese. The officer was surprised at how fluent he sounded, yet he made no comment on it.

"Far from it. And he's really violent, too. We had to move the other inmates because they got hurt. He's definitely possessed by something evil… If my chief found out, I'm fired."

"Don't worry, sir. We know what's going on. And I can assure you, it's not evil." Moving the officer aside, Joaquín approached the cell. He was filled with an odd thrill. It wasn't on the same level as with his mother, but he was anxious to finally see him. He didn't care how he looked, be it like a punk or just some regular kid. Joutarou's my brother. I'll love him no matter how he-

"Who the fuck are you?"

His voice was low and gruff, sending a chill down his spine. Sitting in his bed was Joutarou, his younger brother. And his prior intuition of him being a punk could not have been more correct.

He wore a dark, navy blue gakuran that sported a large gold chain from the left collar. His fair-skinned face was just like his, only locked in a permanent scowl that formed a type of emotionless wall. Same eyes, same thick eyebrows. Even his hair looks like a mess. And it was funny to see his dark hair, because he didn't know where it started; his cap, torn at the back, seemed to blend in perfectly with it. His whole appearance screamed delinquent. Was he really his brother?

"I asked who you are," said Joutarou as he climbed out of bed and approached the bars. He sounded uncaring, but behind the stoic voice, Joaquin noticed a hint of genuine curiosity. He was standing in front of someone with a similar appearance to him, so of course he would feel that way. "And why do you look like you could be my brother?"

"Because I am your brother, kid," answered Joaquín. For the briefest of moments, Joutarou's wall broke, looking surprised at this sudden revelation. But it was rebuilt in an instant.

"So you're Joaquín. That explains why we almost look alike… Yeah, that bitch told me about you before. Well, forget about helping me. Sorry you had to come all this way for nothing."

Is he serious, thought Joaquín as one of his eyes twitched. I get that you're hiding your emotions behind apathy, but that's no reason to call our mother a bitch.

"Watch it, you jerk," he raised his voice. "That's our mother you're talking about!"

"Our? You haven't been in her life for years, so how can you still call her your mother?"

"Because she's my family. And so are you. Now come out, we're here to help you."

"Don't bother. My evil spirit is pretty violent. If you try coming near me, you'll only be shortening your life." He returned to his bed and laid down with his back turned to him. "Now beat it, asshole."

It seemed there was no other way to persuade his brother to leave than to show him just what he was dealing with. Joaquín briefly looked back at his grandfather, as though they both thought the same thing. Getting the go-ahead nod, he sighed and turned back to his brother. "Fine," he said, holding back his anger over his brother's stubbornness. "You want me to beat it? Then I will…

"Your face, that is!"

Preciosa lunged out from him towards Joutarou, grabbing him by the scruff of his pink shirt and pinning him to the wall. Holly gasped in fear as the officers looked confused. For all they could see, Joutarou had been inexplicably lifted into the air. He looked on in furious shock as Joaquín spoke again.

"You see him, don't you? That's my so-called 'evil spirit'. What we have are powerful visions created by your own life energy. A manifestation of our very souls, bendable to our will. These ghostly ripples that stand beside us are called Stands. And contrary to what you believe, they're not evil. Now quit acting like a baby; you're coming with me."

He knew his brother's response wouldn't be a childish, "Make me." He was going to retaliate, doing so when his Stand appeared and broke Preciosa's grip on him. The two spirits looked the same, but Joutarou's was purple and lacked frog-like features. He sported a golden crest around his head, which matched the scarf and pauldrons he wore. Coupled with wild hair, a loincloth, his gold-studded gloves, and his stoic expression, he looked like a modern-day Tarzan.

Before Joaquín could react, Joutarou's Stand immediately grabbed Preciosa's neck. He staggered back and touched his own, feeling the impression of fingers holding him. "That's... awesome…," he strained. "He looks like mine... And he's very clear, too... I wasn't expecting this..."

"You are correct," said Mohamed. "Both of your Stands are clear. You should feel rather proud to meet someone with a Stand as powerful as yours."

"Yeah, because I'm definitely celebrating being choked by one," said Joaquín sarcastically. "Listen, Abulelito... I really want to get him out... But I might have to put a bit more force into it than I thought... I mean, he is close to killing me..." He pointed towards his neck to drive the point home. "One of us might end up in the hospital... Most likely me... What should I do..?"

Joseph crossed his arm and leaned against a wall. "Well, if you really must, then go for it."

"Alrighty then!" And Preciosa punched the purple Stand right in the face, sending him and Joutarou stumbling back. His own Stand's arm swelled up with oil, thickening up into a slimier substance. He aimed his shiny yellow arm and used a hand to slowly scrape it off. Joaquín then shouted "Sapo Sap!" and swiped the slime off. It hit Joutaro's chest and glued him to the wall. He swiped again and covered his mouth and his hands. You can't use your stand if you can't breathe.

Sure enough, Joutarou's muscular Stand slowly began to fade. Della and Holly tried to step forward, but Joaquín stopped them. "No. It's okay. I got this. Thanks." He then turned back to his struggling brother, this time speaking more sincerely. "Look, I get it. This whole situation has you scared. I was too when I first saw Preciosa. I thought I had the ghost of my dad following me. While I know now that wasn't the case, I came to trust him. He's not evil. He won't hurt anyone unless I really want him too.

"The same goes with your Stand, Joutarou! Don't see your him as an evil force. Treat him as your guardian. He will help you in more ways than just beating up a bunch of thugs recklessly. Control him. Train him... You can do it, just like I did. Now please. I'm asking as nicely as I can. Say you'll come out, and I won't send you out on a gurney. Trust me. I don't want my first meeting with my little brother to end with you bleeding."

There was a moment of silence; it wasn't like Joutarou could respond with such thick slime over his mouth and nose. But it was clear he was considering his words, his fierce eyes never leaving Joaquín's. Both of them knew that it would be stupid to continue fighting, knowing full well that neither would stop until one of them blacked out by the other's hand. With no other options and needing to breathe, Joutarou nodded.

"Thank you, bro," sighed Joaquin. Preciosa approached and wiped off the slime off of him before unlocking the cell for Joaquín. Joutarou was about to say something, but he was silenced by a hug from his shorter, older brother.

"Yare yare daze," was all the disgruntled teen could say, not reciprocating it.

Joaquín then let go so that Holly could hug her son. "Oh, Joutarou," she happily cried out. "I'm so glad you came out! You had us all worried."

"God, you're such an annoying bitch," muttered Joutarou.

"Okay," she answered back happily as if she didn't hear the insult. Joaquin didn't know how to react to either of them. Was this commonplace behavior between them?

"Hey, watch your mouth," shouted Joseph in admonishment. "That's your mother you're talking to! And Holly!" He turned to his daughter, still upset. "How can you just stand there with a smile on your face?! You're his mother!"

"Okay," repeated Holly, seeming not to care. Her son's safety was all that mattered to her. Though Joaquín agreed with his grandfather, he couldn't help but smile. They did love one another. Even if Joutarou was indifferent, he could tell.

After she let go, he turned to his brother and said, "Hey, I'm curious… how exactly do you know about these evil... no... these 'Stands'?"

"Mr. Joestar told us about them when we met him" answered Della before Joaquín could. "But he told us he wasn't born with it. Neither was Jojo, and I'm guessing you as well. "

"Speaking of which,' added Joaquín, turning to his grandfather. "You said an external force might have been behind all this. Do you really know what it is?"

Joseph said nothing as he looked pensively at his grandchildren, both curious as to why they had Stands in the first place. He then took out several pictures from his coat. "These pictures are the reason. And what they hold has everything to do with our lineage; the Joestar bloodline." Everyone but Mohamed gathered to look at them. They were all of an abandoned ship, as well as an open, barnacle-encrusted coffin

"Four years ago, this coffin was discovered off the coast of Africa. The ship's crew that dredged it from the Atlantic were never found. I did not know about it until last year when my Stand manifested. It's in my possession now. And when we analyzed it, we discovered two things about it. First, was that the coffin was over one hundred-years-old. And second, it was the same one found aboard the ship that my grandfather had died on… I know exactly what was in it. And Avdol and I are hunting him down."

"'Him'," Joaquín asked incredulously as he flipped through the photos. "Hold on. You're making this sound like someone was in there. Who could be alive after a hundred years of sleeping under the ocean?"

"He's been plaguing our family since that fateful day George Joestar I adopted him into his home. He has killed every man whose blood is that of the Joestars. His very name has been a curse on our family... You have already seen it, Joaquín ."

Looking back through the pictures, he found it immediately. On one side of the coffin were three silver letters that spelled the name of the man his grandfather was hunting down. A man who would he knew would be tied to his own fate.

Dio.