Ch. 14
What Goes On

DECEMBER 3RD 1988
16:11
ROCHOR, SINGAPORE

Jean Pierre Polnareff was arrested.

The lead-up to this event was layered with humor. It all began when Joaquín was reminded by Della that they were not the only ones who were dealing with a Stand user. The two made a hasty dash to his room, which had been trashed in the aftermath of the attack. The bed had collapsed, there was blood mixed with alcohol and juice plashed among the carpet and mirror fragments. And sitting on the bed, kicking a torn up native American doll was a bleeding Jean Pierre.

He told them the story of how Devo the Curse had been waiting for him and used a doll to attack. Joaquín, who remembered the conversation he had about this man, found the irony downright hilarious. Jean Pierre most certainly didn't. When the laughter died down, they both shared their respective stories. Of course, they left out the fact that he and Della kissed. That's a bit too private to share at the moment, thought Joaquín as they brought up how the two were once childhood friends.

Several minutes after shared their stories, they regrouped with the others, who Jean Pierre had called when Devo was attacking. Joseph, unaware of what transpired, suggested they plan their next move on the assassin. The Frenchman amusingly collapsed in exaggerated exhaustion. Then came the icing on the cake. Shortly after he got cleaned up explained everything, the hotel staff and policemen burst in and dragged him away. They had found a bellboy with his face cut off and Devo torn to bits in a bathroom stall.

"He really can't catch a break today, can he," said Noriaki as Joaquín was laughing at his humiliation.

Joseph sighed and began punching in numbers on the room's phone. "I better call the Speedwagon Foundation for this one," he said mirthlessly. "I doubt Polnareff can explain what happened without being labeled a psychopath."

Luckily, Jean Pierre seemed to have the same train of thought. As it turned out, he didn't say anything. He knew his right to remain silent and used it until a representative of the Speedwagon Foundation came to bail him out. They were all pretty thankful that the organization was indebted to the Joestar family, otherwise they would have lost a pretty valuable member of their team to the law. And there would have been nothing funny about that.

With the chaos of the day behind them, everyone returned to their rooms and relaxed. Well, everyone except Joaquín, whose mind was in a million places. The biggest, blaring thought in his head was Della. There was a mixed bag of emotions when it came to her now. He was happy that he reunited with his childhood friend and shared a meaningful kiss. He was upset that it happened after such a terribly emotional battle, and after such a short time (they knew each other for a month, at least).

And he felt afraid, more than anything, about what they did. They might as well have been in a relationship now. Sure, he couldn't be happier that their friendship evolved into something stronger, more meaningful, but it came with great risk. Dio had a connection with the Joestars through the body he so disgracefully stole. He could track every one of their moves, know exactly what they were doing. He would find out, one way or another, about Della, and use her to his advantage. Maybe even make her a primary target.

It made his hands shake so badly he needed to have Preciosa come out and hold them still for him. He didn't want Della to be in that vampire's crosshairs. If he wasn't Joaquín Trejo, he would be shipping her away from them, just like they were doing to Anne. But then, what kind of friend would that make him? A caring one, he thought. Though I would lose what trust she has in me. And the next argument we have would involve my nose and both our hearts broken. And none of us want that.

Neither did he want her to get hurt any more than she has. But, given all that had happened (and will continue to happen), that was not going to change. For all of them, really. Silently, he resigned to the fact that Della was going to continue traveling with them, and that he would have to continue doing what he was trying his best to do: protect her. After all, he did promise her (albeit non-verbally) that he wouldn't let her get hurt. Though it proved to be a pie-crust promise since one of Dio's men did succeed in hurting her earlier.

Speaking of Dio, Joaquín's mind was also on the issue of that man's foresight. He's predicting our every move. There's no way these assassins would know where we are if Dio himself didn't know beforehand. But there's nothing we could do to stop or counteract it. It's not like we could just look into his pla-

All of his thoughts ceased. It just occurred to him that they can look into Dio's plans. After all, they do have someone in their group that has some form of foresight. His grandfather and his Stand. It was thanks to him that we were able to get a lead on Dio. So who's to say that we can't give that maldito vampiro a taste of his own medicine? Put ourselves one step ahead of him? Getting a heads up on his plans was a crazy idea, but it was crazy enough that it just might work.

The excitement of coming up with such a thing made him unable to sit still. I gotta find Abuelito and make this a reality. Now! Joaquín got up and was about to run out when he heard the shower come to a stop. He just remembered that Della decided to take one when they had returned to their room. She needed to know about his plan before he spoke to his grandfather. It took a few minutes before she stepped out, mercifully covered in a towel and her dripping hair a wet sheet along her back.

"Wow," said Joaquín admiringly. "You look gorgeous. I think this is the first time I've seen you with your hair straight."

"Oh, shut up," she said with giggle, the compliment turning her cheeks red. "It gets better, trust me. So, you look rather excited about something. Is it me?"

"As much as I would like it to be, no," he said sincerely. "I came up with a plan. And it involves doing some spying on Dio. I'm going to Abuelito's room to talk to him about it.

"You think it's gonna work?"

"Maybe." He then kissed her cheek and left the room. While he had confidence in his plan, he couldn't help but have his doubts. It might end up failing. It was a risky business to be spying on their sworn enemy. But if they didn't try, how would he know if they would succeed or not?

It didn't take long for him to reach his grandfather's room on the 12th floor, where he heard Mohamed conversing with Joseph. "I feel foolish for not anticipating a Stand attack so quickly," he said, his voice as calm as it always has been. "We have not even been here a full day and already both Polnareff and Joaquín have been attacked."

"The bond my family shares with Dio is a very mysterious one," Joseph spoke, sounding just as calm. "Even I can barely understand it. All I know is that as long as he has my grandfather's body, he can track mine and my grandsons' movements no matter where we are. He'll continue sending his lackeys after us without a moment's rest." Joaquín knocked on the door and came in, looking as serious as his grandfather and the fortune-teller. "Ah, Joaquín. I take it you overheard us."

"Yeah, I did," said Joaquín. "I've been thinking about that link as well for quite bit. And that had me thinking… maybe we could get a look into Dio's next plan. I mean, he's not the only one who can see where his enemies are. Which is why I was gonna ask if you could use Hermit Purple to take another hotograph."

"Thoughtograph," corrected his grandfather, but he waved his hand dismissively. "There's no need. I have a much better idea. Watch."

Without another word, he approached the television in the room and held it with both hands. The other two men approached behind him and watched in awe as Hermit Purple dug its thorny vines into the television. It turned on without the need of pressing the power button. Fading into the screen was a scene from The Godfather, where Vito Corleone and his family were gathered to take a picture during his daughter's wedding.

"Where's Michael," asked Vito as he turned to his son Sonny.

"Don't worry, it's early," he replied, not seeming to put off that his younger brother hadn't gathered to join them for the picture. And just as Vito had turned to his wife, the channel changed immediately to MTV, which had announced that this week's third place video having moved up five spots since last week. Then, it switched to a broadcast about the price of gold. Then, it switched to an airing of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, one of Joaquín's favorite cartoons.

The channels were now starting to change at a faster rate, the screen becoming a blur of colors and sound. "Why are the channels changing so quickly, Mr. Joestar," asked Mohamed. "What are you trying to find?"

"My Stand is taking certain words it finds and piecing together a sentence," explained Joseph. "Think of it as less of a spiritual picture and more of a spiritual message. Besides, the results will be less cryptic than a simple photograph.

The channels were now at such an impossible speed that nobody could keep up. Eventually, it paused on a news show, on which one of the anchors said, "There-," before flipping through several more channels. It paused on the ninja turtle Raphael saying, "-is a-," and channel changed once more. Joaquín heard it clearly. Hermit Purple was picking up words from different channels to form a sentence. It was beyond impressive.

His grandfather looked surprised, almost as if he wasn't expecting to get results this fast. "Did you hear that," he asked them. 'It said, 'There is a'..." The disjointed voices continued before anyone of them could speak.

"-trai-"

"-tor-"

"-among us."

All three men went pale. Joseph did not let go, and neither did his Stand. "W-What in the world..." He sounded dumbfounded, as did Mohamed when he spoke.

"Did it really say, 'There is a traitor among us.'?"

"It did", said Joaquín slowly. "But the question is... who?" As if to answer, the television continued to stop at certain intervals. The answer they received was one nobody was expecting.

"-ka-"

"-kyou-"

"-in."

"-beware!"

" He is-"

"-dios-"

"-mi-"

"-nion-"

"KAKYOUIN," screamed his grandfather in shock. "WHAT?!"

"I-I-Impossible," sputtered Mohamed. "Kakyouin?! Still his minion?!" Joaquín was backing away from the flickering television. There's no way. Noriaki? No. We saved him. Joutarou pulled out that flesh bud, we were all there to see it happen. That kid's indebted to us. So. why would he want to work for such a manipulative madman again after that? It makes no sense!

As they tried to register what they had just heard, Joaquín saw something forming in the flickering of the TV screen. A tall shape, coming in clearly with each second. It looked like a muscular man, his body and face hidden in shadow. All he could make out was his wild blonde hair and one cold and glaring amber eye. He knew who it was... And in that instant, his blood boiled in fury.

"This is," whispered Mohamed with a tinge of fear in his voice.

"It's him," exclaimed Joseph in anger.

"DIO," Joaquín screamed as he tore his grandfather from the television, Hermit Purple still embedded inside, and held it in his hands. The box was slowly growing hot, and the screen was beginning to crack. But he didn't care. He was looking at the man who had cursed his mother.

"Joestar," Dio spoke in his cold voice, his composure even despite the hatred he spewed. The man covered his face with one hand and pointed at Joaquín with the other. " You lot... Once again, you have spied on me. Why must you indulge in such an unhealthy obsession? What could you possibly gain by peering into my life?

"DIO! YOU FUCKING VAMPIRE BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO MY MOTHER! YOU HEAR ME?!"

He was seething. Joaquín had never been filled with such a murderous intent before. When his father died, he certainly wanted to kill his murderer, but never more than he wanted to do so to this maniac. He had caused his family, the Joestars, so much pain and misery. Not anymore. He was going to put an end to that. And he would do it with his own bare hands.

Dio silently watched on, his undead eye gleaming with curiosity. Then, he did something nobody was prepared for. Dio leaned forward, revealing to them every detail of his pale face. He looked exactly as he remembered in his dreams. Joaquín couldn't move away. He was frozen where he stood, watching the cracks grow deeper and a high pitch whine coming from the TV set grow louder in pitch.

The vampire then said, in a soft, venomous voice, "Joaquín Trejo... I will take my time killing you…"

"DIO!"

"Joaquín, MOVE," shouted his grandfather, as both he and Mohamed grabbed him and flung themselves away from the television, which finally exploded. Chunks of plastic and shards of glass flew across the room, though the three weren't hit by any of it. When they looked up from the floor, they saw smoke streaming from the hole on the screen. Joseph stood up and muttered, "He felt us trying to spy on him. That's why he showed his himself. Though I wasn't expecting the TV to explode."

Mohamed stood silent for a moment before he sputtered, "B-But what does this all mean?"

"It's as we just heard. Kakyouin is still working for Dio."

"I don't believe it," said Joaquín, his throat raw from his prior screaming. "We were all there when my brother pulled out that flesh bud off his head, remember? A kid like him, he wouldn't just go back to working with Dio. You know that. Plus, he saved our butts from that Stand user on the plane. You think he would have done that if he was a traitor? Because I certainly don't."

"I'm not saying I disagree," said his grandfather hastily. "I think Kakyouin's reliable. But... my Stand has never been wrong. And this is Dio we're speaking of. It wouldn't be below him to put a spy in our ranks to attack us unexpectedly.

"Maybe we're interpreting it wrong. Or maybe Dio's throwing us for a loop. Regardless, Noriaki is no Trojan horse." Joaquín stood up and wiped off some of the powdered glass that clung to his shirt before storming out. The idea, while successful, had very bitter results. He may have only known the boy for several days, but he knew Kakyouin Noriaki would never betray them. The boy was kind and mild-mannered, and aside from the one squashed on the plane, he would never hurt a fly.

And it wasn't as if he didn't have more than enough opportunities to kill the group. That Stand of his had several unspoken and unused powers at his disposal. The others didn't know, but he did. His brother left no detail out of their rather epic battle within his school's medical office. Speaking of Joutarou, Joaquín didn't know how he would even begin explaining the situation to him. Noriaki was the closest thing to a real friend he had after himself. He wouldn't want to hear it.

But he's got to. Eventually, I have to cross that bridge.

Dinner came later that evening, and things seemed to calm down. There were no suspicious glares, mentions of treachery, or an air of unease. Everything felt calm and joyful. There were laughs, scattered conversations, and everyone was able to appreciate their food. Even Anne, who had been feeling down earlier that day, joined in on the easygoing mood. It was as if the events of today had never happened. And that was something Joaquín was thankful for.

In the midst of their conversations, they took the time to discuss their next course of action. They would need to get to India, but in order to do so, they needed to take a train there, along with several boat trips through Burma. They needed to take borders into consideration. "Polnareff, I have already ordered a ticket for Anne's plane tomorrow," said Joseph to Jean Pierre. "I want you to take her via taxi to the airport. We have to be up bright and early for this."

"Oui," said the begrudging Frenchman. Anne looked up from her plate and nodded, knowing there would be no arguments about it.

"Now, we have to order the train tickets at the station. However, it's on the other side of the city. The trip will be easier if we go on cable cars."

"We can go," Joaquín said, motioning to Della beside him. He then asked hopefully on his other side, "And while we're at it, maybe Joutarou and Noriaki would like to come along?"

The two students, who were in an in-depth discussion about sumo, looked up and only barely registered what he said. They nodded, agreeing to tag along. Joaquín would not have minded them staying, but because of Hermit Purple's message, he felt it safer for both of them to join so as to keep an eye on him. He trusted the boy, but he would rather play things safe.

His grandfather seemed to think the same thing, for he gave a knowing nod to his eldest grandson. "Then it's settled. Avdol and I will stay here. We'll have to order an extra night for all of us tomorrow. I hope nobody minds that."

"Not at all," they all said. When their hearty dinner came to an end, the group dispersed once more to their respective rooms. Back in his, Joaquín wasted no time in telling Della everything that happened. He left nothing out, not even the shocking appearance of Dio. After he finished, Della spoke slowly, as if everything was taking its time to be comprehended.

"But… There's no way he's a traitor. He would have killed all of us already."

"Exactly," Joaquín almost shouted. "I'm glad you see it my way! He's almost harmless! He would never do something like that!"

"Are you gonna tell Joutarou?"

"I'm gonna have to. I mean, we're all gonna be alone tomorrow. He'll want to know before we get into a cable car.

"Good. Because we all need to be on our guard, just in case things go south."

Joaquín smiled and said, "There'll nothing to worry about. Preciosa and Star Platinum are more than enough to handle whatever comes at us. Especially a Stand that's already lost to one of us."

"I know." Della's expression, her entire demeanor changed from seriousness to something akin to shyness. Her cheeks were glowing red, and her soft hands found his.

She wants to talk about that, thought Joaquín with a smile. Odd time to do so, but… No. It's not an odd time. We needed to talk about this at some point today.

With their hands squeezing gently, they kept their eyes upon one another as Della spoke in a whisper. "So, about earlier. What does it mean for us? I mean… What does that make us now? Friends? A couple?"

"Whatever you want us to be," Joaquín whispered back. "I'm happy no matter what we become."

"A couple then? If… Is it okay?

"Absolutely. You're my best friend, Della. But as of late, it's always felt like we were more than that. So why not?"

Della smiled wider than he had ever seen, immediately becoming giggly. It was a cute sight that made his heart swell. She didn't continue until she stopped giggling. "You know, ever since we met, I felt this weird connection with you. It's something I never felt around family or friends. Like, this sense of... importance. I never felt important, not even to my foster family. Not that they didn't love me, mind you.

"But... when we first met, and when you invited me over to your home, things changed. You took an interest in me, showed me kindness I've never seen in other people. And I... took an interest in you. You're a sweet and passionate individual. You're not afraid to put your life down for others or to be who you are. I noticed that when you fought that guy in the restaurant in New York. I noticed it every day since. And since that moment, I began to like you."

"That long," Joaquín couldn't help but ask. And it was now that her rather bizarre look that day of half admiration and trepidation made sense.

"Yes. And there have been so many opportunities I wanted to tell you, 'Jojo, I wanna date you', but I was afraid of what you would say. I honestly never thought you'd feel the same."

"Why wouldn't I? You're as just an amazing person as I am. I mean, I'm not good with stuff like this, but... I like you for the same reasons. Nobody's ever liked me the way you do."

"Thank you, Jojo." And for another moment, they shared a passionate kiss. When they broke apart, she asked, without so much as a hint of worry, "This is okay, right? I mean, you said earlier that Dio knows almost all our moves. Wouldn't he find out about us?"

"I thought about that. I'm pretty sure he'll find out one way or another. But I'm prepared for that. I'm prepared to put my life on the line for you. I won't let them hurt you."

"If you've ever watched Mary Poppins, you'd know that's a pie crust promise. Easily made, easily broken. Now, let's get some sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow." And with that, they got under the covers of their bed and went to sleep in each others' arms. Joaquín felt more comfortable holding his friend, now girlfriend, in his arms now than he did before.

~+JO*JO+~

Everybody said their good-byes to Anne that morning. She gave a hug to each one of them, saying how much she would miss them all. When she hugged Joaquín, she whispered in his ear, "You better keep your promise. Or you and my knife will have a little talk."

"Don't worry," said Joaquín, chuckling at the joking threat. "We'll be back to take you on that trip." He ruffled her hair before she left with Jean Pierre in a taxi to the airport. As he waved to her, he heard Joutarou scoff beside him. His younger brother was giving him a curious look, coupled with a smirk. "What's up, bro?"

"Nothing," he said. "You've really got that heart of yours stitched to your sleeve."

"That's just who I am. You can thank my grandmother for that. You would have loved meeting her. She was a real fireball."

"Joaquín," said Mohamed, handing him a folded-up map "This will help you should you get lost. Mr. Joestar and I shall be waiting at the hotel." He then lowered his voice and whispered, "Please mind Kakyouin. I do not think he is a traitor, but when it concerns Dio, we have every reason to be on guard."

He nodded silently, a bit appreciative that there was one more person who believed in Noriaki's innocence. As he and his grandfather walked back into the hotel, Joaquín and the others began making their way through the city. He took a moment to look at his map, and it turned out his grandfather was right about that train station. It would probably be about a half-hour trip from the hotel to there. Joaquín was used to long walks back in Queens.

After a few minutes, he turned to his brother and asked, "Hey, bro. What's your dad like?" He only knew that his stepfather was a popular and successful jazz musician and was currently on tour. The few pictures she saw of him back in Japan showed that he resembled Joutarou, but with dark eyes and cleaner hair.

"He's a really quiet man," said Joutarou stoically. "Even when he's home, which, due to his career, is rare. Dad never shows his emotions. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether he cares about us or not."

"Does he?"

"Somehow, yes. But he's constantly on tour. We never see him as much as we'd like to. But that's Mom's fault. She never wants to go on tour. She's actually comfortable staying at home. I could never understand her."

"When we're done, let's all join him. I mean, wouldn't it be cool to travel and watch his concerts?"

Joutarou turned to him, a smirk on his face. "Talented as he is, can you believe that I don't like his songs? Mom does, but that's because she's Mom. There's nothing and nobody she dislikes."

"I noticed that. I think if she ever met Dio, she'd wanna invite him to some tea and make him her friend." Joaquín almost expected his younger brother to halt in his tracks, glare and threaten him for making a joke about that bastard. Instead of that, Joutarou let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he pulled his cap down in an attempt to hide his reddening face. He was honestly amused. "Sorry," he muttered. "It wasn't even meant to be funny."

"It's okay," he said, still smirking. "Because I honestly thought the same thing once before."

Strange minds do think alike, thought a bewildered Joaquín. And nobody's as stranger than yours, bro.

"Hey guys," piped up Della, who had stood a few steps behind so as to allow the men to talk. "It's gonna be a long walk. Anyone up for some ice cream?" She pointed to a vendor a few feet away. Now that she mentioned it, they really could use something cool to munch on. They all agreed and went to the vendor, which not only sold ice cream but coconuts as well. Della went to the spiky-haired man behind the counter and asked, "Excuse me. I'd like to buy some ice cream for me and my friends."

"Welcome, little lady," he said with a smile. "Look, ice cream's good, but I have something way better." He picked up a white, slightly hairy coconut from an organized pile on the counter. "Fresh, chilled coconut juice. Straight from the palm and shell."

Della looked at the price. It was 4 Singapore dollars. "Is this the price for tourists or for everyone? Cause these look like they'd be $2"

"Hmph. Well, I'll have you know that these have a one hundred percent natural and pure taste to them." He took one and swiftly chopped the top of it off, without so much as spilling any of its contents out. "When I say off the palm, I mean it. I got these half an hour ago, chilled them, and have them ready to sell." He presented her the coconut with two straws and a spoon. "So how about it?"

"That sounds good," said Joutarou. "We'll take four."

"Coming right up!" The vendor prepared three more and handed them over for $16. Della still thought they ought to pay half for them but nobody else minded. Especially Joaquín, who enjoyed coconuts above all other fruits and nuts (even though it's neither). It was the only flavor limber (the Puerto Rican equivalent of Italian ice) he liked getting back in New York. Joutarou agreed to pay for them, as did Noriaki, who silently took his wallet out as well.

Then, out the corner of his eye, Joaquín saw someone snatch Noriaki's wallet and run off, laughing at his own luck. The youth stood stock still, an uncharacteristically dark look in his eyes. Noriaki silently turned and walked towards him, Hierophant Green slithering from under him quicker than it normally would. The Stand caught up to the thief and grabbed his leg, tripping him up and relinquishing his hold of the wallet. The youth caught up to the befuddled thief.

And then things took a bizarre turn.

Joaquín couldn't see his face anymore, but he could hear how different he sounded. "You bastard," he growled, speaking in a venomous voice that was not his own. "You thought you could actually steal my wallet, you little bitch?" He had never heard the boy speak so vulgarly before. The others turned to the sudden cursing, and they became witness to Noriaki grabbing the thief by the hair and slamming his knee into his face. "Cough it up, punk!"

"Kakyouin," exclaimed Joutarou. Everyone was in shock as they watched their friend take out his unnatural aggression on the man. Just what had happened? Noriaki was never like this.

"You were born as worthless as a cockroach's dick," he insulted. As if his language wasn't enough, he lifted the man over his shoulders and began to bend him by his back. "I'd never forgive you for touching my wallet with your shit-covered fingers, you pilfering fuck!"

"Noriaki, that's enough," shouted Joaquín, unable to watch his brutal behavior anymore. "You're gonna kill him!" But his words fell on deaf ears. Noriaki continued his brutal back-breaker, admonishing the pitiful man and making him bleed. Badly. That was when both he and Joutarou had to intervene, the former pulling the victim off his back and the latter pushing away Noriaki. The boy stood with his hands in his pockets, his cold eyes staring unblinkingly at the brothers.

"What the fuck was that about, Kakyouin," growled Joutarou. "Have you gone crazy or something?!"

The youth stood silent and approached the counter of the ice cream vendor. "That hurt," said Noriaki in a composed, silky voice. "Why did you push me away like that? He was a bad person. He stole my wallet. I punished him. I had to act accordingly. You would have done the same if you were me." Noriaki took his coconut and took a sip from his straws, his flat eyes still staring at them. "Don't you agree? Joaquín-kun? Joutarou-kun?"

The brothers shared a silent glance, And Joaquín was sure that they thought the same thing.

That's not Kakyouin Noriaki.