Ch. 24
Mannish Boy

DECEMBER 26TH, 1988
08:33
YARPLINE, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES

It was the morning after Christmas, and it was back to business as usual. The plan today was to cross through Saudi Arabia and reach its edge to cross the Red Sea via submarine. The problem with this was neither distance or the heat, but that they were going to fly over the desert region. It might have been almost a month, but Joaquín still had a fear about being on a plane with his grandfather. But thankfully, he had Della there to help convince him that they would all be safe this time around.

"We won't crash, Jojo," she reassured. "Mr. Joestar said it himself. It's our own personal plane. No other passengers, just us. Besides, this is a propeller plane. Didn't he say he was able to fly that kind? Jojo, I know your grandfather can be a bit overconfident, but there are times where you just gotta trust him. And this is one of those moments. Have confidence, okay?"

If there was anyone's intuition he could trust, it was hers

The night before, Joseph had gone out to order a Cessna for everyone. He had some trouble at first, but he managed to find a six-seater for them all, and now it was waiting out near the edge of the village. They were told to meet them there around a quarter to nine, just to give everyone a chance to eat and pack up before they met up. Both Joaquín and Della did not stay at the hotel to eat, instead taking their toast with them to eat as they left.

When they reached the edge of the village, they caught up with Joseph and Joutarou, who were patiently waiting near a pair of planes. "Good morning, kids," Joseph greeted happily. "You all ready for a nice flight?"

With some minor reluctance, Joaquín nodded. "Sure. But I swear to god, if we crash again…"

"You and me both, niisan," added Joutarou, who did not enjoy the crash near China either. "All we can hope for is that jijii doesn't fall asleep at the controls."

"Hmph," Joseph grunted and crossed his arms. "I can't believe you boys lack faith in your grandfather. Shame on you! Should make you get some camels instead… Ah, here he is!"

The man who had sold Joseph the plane, a short pilot already in Pakistani flight gear, approached with a stony look on his face. In his hand were several bills of money. "Good morning! Is our plane ready for the trip?"

"I'm afraid I can't give it to you," the pilot said tersely. "I can't sell it. I'm sorry."

"WHAT?! Wait, wait, wait, wait… What the hell do you mean you can't sell it to us?! I gave you the money last night for one plane for six people! That plane is mine now! I paid for it, I own it! That's common sense everywhere in the world!"

"You can take the money back. I had an emergency come up." He thumbed behind him to a woman covered head to toe in a burqa holding a basket. Inside was a small, tan baby with a look of discomfort on his little sweaty face. "This baby came down with a bad fever. About 39°C. There's no doctor in this village, so we have to take this baby to the next town over where there is one."

"A baby," asked Noriaki, who had just arrived with Jean Pierre. He looked slightly unnerved, as if seeing the baby just made him feel something uncomfortable. Not to mention tired. Joaquín ignored it for now.

Joseph shook his head and pointed out the second plane. "What about that one? Why can't we used that plane instead?"

"Out of order," grunted the pilot. "Besides, there are two other planes, but they've left the village and won't come back for another two days. Is that okay? If you don't want to wait that long, this trip to the doctors will last until tomorrow evening. You'll have it after that."

The old man got in his face, almost red with anger. "You lousy Pakistani bastard! We have our own reasons for needing this plane, and they also have to do with another person's life! We can't afford to wait for almost two days!"

"I don't know or care what your reasons are! You think I'm going to sell you a plane and risk the life of a baby?"

It seemed the pilot's words struck a chord in Joseph. Through that fedora he wore, Joaquín could see a moral battle taking place in his grandfather's mind. Mom's life is of utmost importance, but he definitely doesn't want to put someone as innocent as a baby at risk at all. His heart isn't made of stone.

"Excuse me," spoke up the woman through her veil, the two arguing turning their attention to her. "May I make a suggestion? Your Cessna can hold six people, correct? Well, this child won't take much space at all. Perhaps wherever you are going, you can take him to a doctor."

"She kinda has a point," spoke up Joaquín after a bite of his toast. "I mean, we're gonna be stopping at another town before we leave. So this really shouldn't be much of a problem for-" But before he could finish, the baby abruptly started to cry. Noriaki was standing nearby, his hand retracted as if he had tried to put it on the baby.

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't even put my hand on him…"

This interruption made the pilot suspicious of the group. "Are you sure it's okay," he asked the lady, who tried calming the infant. "You really wanna leave that kid with these guys?"

"W-Wait a minute," said Joseph hastily. "Who said we're taking the baby with us?! We're on a dangerous mission, and taking him would only put him at risk!"

"Actually, Monsieur Joestar," said Jean Pierre as he approached their plane. "I think it's a good idea. Don't you think so? We'll be flying that Cessna hundreds of kilometers in the sky at such speed that no Stand could reach us. Hell, not even Lovers could catch up with us over the desert. You know, if he was alive."

Joaquín proudly scoffed at the reminder.

"Also…" Jean Pierre kicked the wheel of the plane as hard as he could, which made him wince in pain. "While we fought Stands that took the shape of cars and ships, we'll be flying on a genuine plane. There'll be nothing to worry about."

That had been one of Joseph's biggest worries, as he told Joaquín last night. But now that it's been proven that the plane wasn't a Stand, he seemed to visibly calm down. He turned to the others and asked, "Well, what do you all think?"

Everyone looked at one another and then back at him, nodding in agreement. "I guess we're on baby delivery duty," said Joaquín with a shrug. "Just… por amor de dios, don't crash another plane."

That earned him a quick scathing look before his grandfather announced, "Very well then! Let's hop aboard and take off!" There were no arguments after that. The group boarded the plane and took off towards the desert that laid ahead. It would have taken the rest of the day to get to where they needed, and until then, they all took the flight as a chance to relax once more. And they would do so without worrying about another Stand roasting them in the sky.

A few hours had passed in peaceful silence. Joseph was doing a rather good job in not crashing their plane, now several hundred feet above the desert landscape. Both Noriaki and Jean Pierre napped in their seats. Meanwhile, Joaquín and Della were discussing what they would expect in Egypt.

"We're gonna be facing some of the most deadly Stand users in Egypt, aren't we," asked Della grimly.

"Of course we are," answered Joaquín, clearly wishing the opposite. "Dio's not gonna pull any punches once we get there. He's gonna be sending his most elite after us. How many he'll send, I don't know. But what I do know is that we need to keep our guard up better than we've been doing lately. If we let it down for one moment, we're fucked."

"Jojo, language," she hissed and pointed to the basket in her arms. "The baby!"

She had been holding it ever since they got onto the plane. The infant resting inside it was sound asleep, although he still looked feverish. Because of his presence, Della had taken the role of a doting mother, making it specifically clear that if anyone swore around the baby, her Stand would wash their mouths out in bubbles.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I forgot. Honest. Please don't wash my mouth out."

Her expression simmered as she picked the child up into her arms, cradling him as a mother would. "… You wanna know something I just realized, Jojo?"

"Mm?"

"We don't even know this kid's name."

How could he forget that as well? That's right. His mother didn't even tell us. Now that she's brought that up, she looked kind of… anxious… As if she was less worried about his sickness and more so giving him away. That woman can't possibly expect us to care for a child… But he didn't voice his other thoughts. Everyone would have looked at him as if he'd grown a second head.

So Joaquín simply nodded and said, "Yeah, you're right. You think we should give him a new name or something? Maybe just a nickname?"

Della looked thoughtfully at the child for a moment before she spoke up. "How's Duke sound?"

"Nah. Sounds like a dog's name… How about Armstrong?"

"No… What about Morton?"

"Maybe Lucky?"

"... Mannish Boy?"

A snicker came from the pilot's seat. Joseph had been listening in on their conversation, it seems, and Della looked slightly offended. "How's that funny?"

"To be honest," chuckled Joseph, "that kid kinda looks mature for his age. It could just be me, though. What do you think?

"Well, I think it sounds endearing. And anyone who thinks otherwise is… urgh…" Her nose crinkled as she held out the baby. " Oh, g-geez, he's gonna need a diaper change. Um… Does anyone know how to do that? Jojo? Joutarou?"

The only other person awake was Joutarou at the co-pilot's seat. Both he and his brother shared a glance before shaking their heads to Della. Neither having been around another baby, they had no experience in cleaning up their messes. Their grandfather was busy flying them, and Noriaki was a single child. So that left…

"Hey, Jean Pierre," spoke up Joaquín, reaching over to shake the Frenchman's shoulder. He jolted awake, looking all around before turning to face him. "Hey, you okay?"

"Oui," he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I'm fine. I just felt like I had a really bad dream… But… I can't remember it… "

"Well, you can continue it after you help change the baby."

He gave him and Mannish Boy a scandalized look. "Wait a second, why me?!"

Della carefully handed the infant to Jean Pierre, who held him out at a distance. "Well, how old were you when Sherry was born," she asked.

"Not old enough to help change her, if that's what you're thinking! I've never changed a diaper before!"

"Then you and I can practice," said Joaquín, looking around the basket for anything to put on him. All Mannish Boy had was his blanket. "Er… At least through primitive means… Geez, I almost forgot we're in the Middle East. No pampers or anything… Oh well."

It was no real issue, aside from some expected squirming on their charge's part. More than anything, it was great preparation for the future. Joaquín always wanted to be a father. And if I'm gonna be a father, he thought as he wrapped up and disposed of the soiled diaper, then I gotta practice changing diapers. I don't want the kid's mom doing all the work.

Just as the two were finishing up ("Hold him steady so I can pin that blanket up, Joaquín."), a whimpering noise caught their attention. It was Noriaki, his face pale, eyes shut tight, and a look that told them he was having a rather troubling dream. Concerned, Joaquín reached over and placed his hand on the youth's shoulder, and before he could shake him, he began to flail.

"STOP," screamed Noriaki in terror. "PLEASE, STOP IT!"

"Kakyouin," Joutarou shouted, swiveling from his seat to try and pacify his friend. "What's going on?!" But try as everyone might, there was no stopping the nightmare-induced frenzy. Fists and kicks flew blindly all around him, the others steering clear lest they end up hit.

Joseph turned around and yelled, "What the hell's going on back there?!" He was greeted with a heel to the jaw.

And then the plane began to spin out of control.

"S-Shit, the controls!" Joseph took a hold of the plane's controls, but found it difficult to correct himself. "Damnit! We're tail-spinning off course!"

"No we're not," said Joaquín, trying to keep his tone level and his panic under check. Noriaki was still panicking in his seat, and he and the others managed to hold his arms back. "No, we are not! Just fix the controls and we'll be fine! Damnit, Noriaki, snap out of it!"

"Ça ne sert à rien," muttered Jean Pierre as he jerked with his friend's arm. "He was like this in the morning! He's having another nightmare!"

"H-Hey," spoke up Joutatou through the clamor. "This Cessna… are we starting to fall?"

That was the last thing anyone wanted to hear, but it was true. The plane was spiraling straight towards the ground below. And just like he did during their first plane crash, Joaquín screamed in sheer panic.

"Joaquín, SHUT IT," roared grandfather, trying vainly to pull them out of their predicament. "AND GET KAKYOUIN UNDER CONTROL, TOO!"

"THEN GET THIS PLANE UP BEFORE WE CRASH," shrieked his eldest grandson, struggling to keep the youth's arm back. With three people holding him back, Noriaki slowly began to calm down. His whimpering did not stop, however, still trapped in whatever nightmare he was suffering from. Despite this, they were still diving at an accelerating pace. "W-WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, ABUELITO?! WE'RE STILL CRASHING!"

"Hurry and get us straightened out," shouted Joutarou, looking just as panicked as his brother.

"ENOUGH," bellowed Joseph. "JUST SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU! If you all keep panicking, I'm going to start panicking! So just let me work! I've got this!" But nothing he did was working, no matter what he tried. "Damnit! I've got no choice! HERMIT PURPLE!" The thorned vines shot out from his hands and into the control console of their plane. Slowly, the plane stopped spinning, and before they could even crash, it straightened itself out.

"I-I did it! And just in the nick of time!"

They were saved, and everybody cheered for their pilot. Even Joutarou allowed himself a smile of relief. Joseph turned back to his group with a large, laughing smile. "Did you all see that," he asked them excitedly. "My skills are the best! Pulled out of a nosedive by Joseph Joestar! No plane crash can take me down!"

But the excitement died when Joutarou exclaimed, "HEY," and brought everyone's attention to the palm tree they were about to fly into.

Joaquín's scream had never reached a higher octave until this moment.

He was never, ever going to fly with his grandfather again.

~+JO*JO+~

After saving themselves and their belongings from the wrecked plane, the group had set up a small camp near the crash. It wasn't until the stars were shining that everything had finally settled down. The excitement and panic of their second crash (Joseph's fourth) was gone, replaced with something almost calm. Even Joaquín had managed to come down from his shell shock after a while.

With everyone warming up around the fire they set up, Joaquín figured it was time to ask what was undoubtedly on everyone's minds. "Okay," he began, turning to the still tired Noriaki, "would you like to tell us what was so scary in your dreams that you had to get us into another plane crash?"

"Yes, do tell us," Jean Pierre asked in annoyance. "Tell us why we almost ended up dead outside of a Stand attack, Kakyouin! Just what the hell is wrong with you?! Not only did we nearly die, but now we're back to walking in a desert! This is all your fault!"

"Jean Pierre, that's enough," scolded Della, who had reached out to rub Noriaki's back consolingly. "Can't you see he feels bad about all this? He wouldn't intentionally hurt us like that, you know that. Now back off before I sick All My Love on you." She always meant business when her anger came out, and Jean Pierre was no fool to test her. Her attention returned to the boy, and her voice and expression softened. "Tell us what happened, Noriaki. We're here for you."

He shook his head in his hand and spoke. "I… I don't know what happened… I just went to sleep and… had some awful dream. At least, I think I did. When I woke up, not only did I feel so drained, but… I forgot what I dreamt about. It happened this morning, too… Just… what's wrong with me..?"

"It's okay, Kakyouin," said Joseph as he leaned over and patted his back as well. "I think you're just tired. And not just physically, either."

"He's right," agreed, Joaquín. "We've been out of Japan for almost a month. We've been in fights left and right, we're almost always on the move, and we have barely any time to relax. It's very mentally exhausting. Believe me, I'm tired too. But I keep going. And so should you. Don't let the pressure of this journey get to you, okay. You're not alone." The youth cast him a tired gaze, but his smile was enough to show he was thankful for his friend.

Turning his attention to his brother, who was checking Mannish Boy in his basket, he asked, "Hey, bro. How's he holding up?"

"Actually," said Joutarou with a hint of relief, "his fever's down. The kid's not sweating like crazy or anything."

While everyone else looked relieved, Joaquín felt a twinge of annoyance. They had brought a baby for nothing. Had he stood behind, he would have gotten better overnight as he did now. But it was too late to really complain. He simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, thank goodness. One less problem we have to worry about. I guess we can still send him to the next town so he could be flown back."

He couldn't feel too annoyed, though. Mannish Boy looked very happy when Joseph picked him up and began playing peek-a-boo with him, and Della seemed less worried. Joaquín could take some comfort in that. But now that he thought of his recovery, he couldn't help but feel something off about it. Miraculous as it was, it seemed odd that a baby could recover so quickly. He wanted to bring it up with the other, but he didn't want to spoil everyone's good mood.

So rather than speaking, he got up and went over to his brother, who had gone back to their crashed Cessna. It rested in a crumpled heap right beside the offending palm tree it flew into. Catching up with Joutarou, Joaquín was greeted with a low, "Suspicious, isn't it?"

"You too, huh," he whispered back.

"Yeah. No kid should get over a fever that quickly."

"I know, right!" Joutarou went through the open door of the plane and looked through the cockpit. "What're you looking for?"

"I'm trying to see if the radio works. Hold on..." He reached over to the console and pulled out a radio intercom. He spoke in English into it as he turned the dial to reach out to anyone listening. "Mayday, mayday, this is Kuujou Joutarou. Anyone, please respond, over." There was silence and scattered static. "Kuujou Joutarou, we're in need of assistance, please respond, over."

It took a moment, but they had landed on a frequency, someone finally responded. They both smiled to one another before Joutarou told them where they were, how many they were, and where they needed to go. The furthest they could go was Mecca, and that was fine by him. "They should be here by the morning. But…" He looks grimly for a moment. "Dio's gonna know about it. If he's like we think he is, the message will be intercepted somehow."

"Don't worry about that," assured his brother. "This is mainly for Mannish Boy. If Dio sends someone over, we can both kick their ass toge-"

Before he could finish, the baby's cry began to ring out in the night. Stepping out of the wreckage, they saw Noriaki holding and getting ready to punch him. Della was quick enough to take him away while Joseph reprimanded the troubled youth.

"Hey, Joutarou... I think we should keep an eye on both of them tonight… I'm starting to get worried about Noriaki."

And that was what they did later that night as they ate some homemade porridge, courtesy of their grandfather. The brothers, as well as Jean Pierre, kept a careful watch on Noriaki as he sat alone with his bowl. They felt really bad for him, but they couldn't help but think something was up? His nightmares, his attitude towards the baby… Was it something traumatic he experienced as a child? Who knows, he thought. But whatever it is, I think it's better we don't ask.

They were better off asking. Before anyone knew it, Noriaki had stood up and pointed to Mannish Boy in his crib. "Everyone," he shouted, grabbing everyone's attention. "Did you see him just now?! That baby isn't normal after all! He just killed a scorpion! Skewered it with his pin in the blink of an eye!"

"Attends une minute," said Jean Pierre, eyeing him suspiciously as he stood up. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that this baby isn't just some baby! He's barely a year old and he already knows what a scorpion is! He killed it with his own hands!"

"A scorpion," asked Joseph worriedly. "Where?!"

"In the basket!" When he pointed to it, Mannish Boy immediately started shaking. Della picked him up and tried to soothe him as Noriaki hurriedly uncovered the basket. There was nothing inside, not even clinging to the lining sheet or pillow. He was disheartened, but it didn't last when he rounded on the baby and tugged on his clothes. "It's the truth! I saw it! He must be hiding it in his clothes."

"Noriaki, cut it out," she cried, prying the baby away from him. She looked upset, but clearly worried about the sanity of her friend. "Just what the hell's gotten into you!"

"B-but Della-"

Joseph stepped in and shook his head. "Look, you're tired," he said in a firm, matter-of-fact tone. "You need to get some rest. We can talk about this tomorrow morning okay?" And with that, Noriaki was left in shocked disbelief that nobody would believe him. Joaquín would have, but it was getting difficult given how crazed he was acting. It was only a matter of time before he ended up snapping.

Which came much sooner than anyone thought. And it was while Della was trying to feed the fussy baby some home-made baby food Joseph whipped up (which he was vehemently refusing for some reason). With no warning at all, Noriaki swatted the spoonful of mush she was feeding with out of her hand. Everyone immediately got up, including a now absolutely pissed-off Della Brown.

"Are you trying to get yourself pelted with bubbles," she spoke in an enraged, seething tone as she handed the frightened baby over to Joseph. "You've been acting crazy all night! Just what gives, goddamnit?!"

"I'm sorry, but I gotta agree with Della," Joaquín said with less animosity than his girlfriend. "Your irrational behavior is getting everyone both worried and pissed off. So you better start explaining what the fuck's going on!"

"Joaquín, language!" But her admonishment went ignored.

"Everyone, please," implored Noriaki, eyes wide and his face pale and sweaty. "I'm convinced of it! I might not know where that baby's hiding that scorpion, but I do know that he's a Stand user! Look at this wound!" He pulled back the right sleeve of his gakuran, and everyone gasped. Scratched on it were two, bloody words.

BABY STAND.

"These words are a warning! I must have gotten them from my dream! Please, you have to believe me!"

Nobody said a word. Then…

"K-Kakyouin," whispered Jean Pierre. "H-have you finally..?"

"Oh my god," muttered Joseph in disbelief

"Impossible," said Della softly in fear.

Joutarou immediately pointed to his friend and asked as steadily as he could, "Kakyouin… that wound on your arm… did you cut that into yourself..?"

One could almost feel Noriaki's heart drop from the distrust in his friend's voice.

"You don't… believe me," he muttered, just as unbelieving as his peers. Then, he set his face to something more serious, his tone hardening as well. "If it's got to come to this, then so be it… It might be cowardly, but… I'm going to do it the hard way! HIEROPHANT GREEN!" And the mechanical Stand manifested before him, pointing straight at Mannish Boy. While the baby didn't scream, the gesture was enough to make Della cry out in his stead.

"ENOUGH!" A hamon-infused chop struck Noriaki's neck, causing both him and his Stand to fall. Everyone stared silently at Joaquín, furious and shining with sparks. "I'm sorry it had to come to that," he spoke remorsefully, "but you needed to be calmed down. I'm also sorry I couldn't believe you… We'll settle this in the morning."

"Can he really keep traveling and fighting with us," asked Jean Pierre doubtfully.

"Again, in the morning… Come on, let's get him to bed. We should probably do the same. It'll be quite a while before backup finds us out here."

There were no further arguments after that. They all helped Noriaki into a sleeping bag before turning in for the night in their own. It had been a crazy day, and with no Stand attacks. It would have been funny were it not for their friend's breakdown.

Sorry, Noriaki. We'll figure something out. Rest easy, kid…

~+JO*JO+~

The distant sound of music was bothering Joaquín. It sounded too cheery for his liking. Not to mention the whirring of machinery close to his ear. It made him groan sit up, ready to tell off whatever was making that noise.

"Will you cut it the fu-"

But when he opened his eyes, he was greeted to an incredible, yet questionable sight. He was no longer in the starry-skied desert, but some sunny, brightly-colorful amusement park. There was a carousel, a Ferris wheel, balloons of various colors, and an assortment of other landmarks that befitted the nature of his environment. The noise, it seemed, emanated from the spinning tea cups he was sleeping beside. It was incredible, yet very terrifying.

Where am I, he thought worriedly as he stood to his feet. Am I still in Saudi Arabia? Did the rescue team come? What about… He looked down to see his friends getting up as well, and they too looked confused.

"Hey, how did we end up in an amusement park," grumbled Joseph sleepily.

Beside him, Della let out a shuddering yawn and looked around with squinted eyes. "Hey… where'd Noriaki and the baby go?"

"I don't know," answered Joaquín. "They might be nearby."

Before he could even look, Jean Pierre immediately shot to his feet, shaky and sweating nervously. "That's right," he exclaimed fearfully. "T-This is… E-Everyone! Be careful! I remember now… This place… We're in a dream… a frightening one… We're in the nightmare world!"

While everyone else gave confused looks, Joseph laid back in his sleeping bag. "Then we shouldn't rush it," he said unconcernedly. "It's just a dream…"

"That's how I reacted! Listen! What Kakyouin was going on about was true! A baby Stand! This is the enemy's trick! Believe me or not, but that 'baby' is a Stand user! However, what makes this whole thing more horrifying is that when you wake up, we'll lose our memories!"

And there was the answer to everything that has been happening the entire day. Absurd as it sounded, everything made sense. The baby that overcame a high fever with no medicine, Noriaki's nightmares, his animosity towards the baby. And that wound on his arm… It reminded him so much of that movie A Nightmare on Elm Street, only they weren't dealing with a claw-handed demon. They should have heeded the warnings, and now, they were going to pay for ever doubting him.

We gotta apologize to him. That is... if we can find him…

He scanned the area for any sign of the youth. His clothes, his outlandish hair, anything. "Damnit, if you're right, then he should already be here. I knocked Noriaki out… So where the hell is he?"

Della turned to Joaquín with a look of fear on her face. "Jojo," she spoke with a tremble. "Please tell me this is a lie… Please tell me that baby's not one of Dio's minions. He can't be… He's just a baby…"

He shook his head, wishing he could believe the same thing. "Everything keeps pointing the other way," he said sadly. "This kid's been planted in our group to kill us. The mother, if she even is his mother, probably didn't even know… Come on, Dio sent a dying girl to kill us, you think he's above sending a baby?"

She sighed and looked away from him, admitting defeat to reason. "No, you're right… I can't believe he'd send a killer baby after us… Does he have no shame in what he-"

"H-Hey, Polnareff," cried out Joseph in shock. "Your hair..! What's going on with it?! It looks so ridiculous!"

Now Jean Pierre's hair, as much as they made fun of it, wasn't that big. Standing straight up, it was at least 3 or so inches long. But when they all looked at it now, they saw that it had grown far longer and more exaggerated. And what was worse, it was growing at an alarming rate. As he panicked, his hair came undone and wrapped thick, tendril-like strands around some pillars to hold him back.

"Polnareff!"

And then everything devolved into chaos. The chain dangling from Joutarou's collar wrapped and choked around his neck. The little Puerto Rican flags on the back of Joaquín's gloves slithered off and tied up his hands and his mouth, muffling his screams of anger. Della had essentially become a literal Cousin It when her hair grew and covered her entire body, weighing her in place. Even Joseph was facing a dilemma of his own.

"M-My artificial hand," he exclaimed as the robotic appendage burst from his glove. And then it inflated to comical size before his eyes. "HOLY SHIT!" It collapsed under its heavy weight. Nobody found any of this funny, except for the mailbox and the flowers around them that sprung to life and cackled with mad glee.

"How can we fight it," asked a struggling Jean Pierre, trying to free his hair. "How?! I-In this world, anything could happen! There are no rules, no common sense! Everything happens according to the Stand user's desires!" He soon froze with an expression of imminent terror as he looked out towards the park, a fearful expression on his face. "N-No... There is… one rule… for us… to get cut apart and killed."

Following his eyes, he could see exactly what made the Frenchman so scared. Gliding towards them in long, purple robes and a tall, matching mitre-like cap was what could be described as the grim reaper, his mechanical hands and shoulder pauldrons glinting gold in the sunlight. In his hands was the instrument of their doom: a gigantic scythe. His face was that of a white carnival clown, his smile frozen in a cruel smile.

Joaquín knew exactly which tarot card this represented without even asking.

'Death'.

Without moving his lips, the clown gleefully shouted, "Rally-ho!" and flew directly at them. They were all trapped, unable to move or even attack.

But that didn't stop Joutarou from roaring and calling out, "STAR PLATINUM!"

"It's no use, Joutarou," warned Jean Pierre. "You can't summon your Stand within the dream!"

And yet, despite this, Star Platinum still appeared with a roar and a puff of smoke, ready to fight. But there was something off about him. For one thing, Stands don't just appear out from smoke. At least, not literally. And second, he had a manic smile on his face, something he rarely did less than his user. Even Joutarou knew something was wrong when his Stand did nothing except turn around and glare right back at him. And before he could react, he was attacked with a flurry of punches.

Joaquín could only stare aghast as his Stand betrayed him. He had never seen anything like this, and yet there it was. But how, was his only vocal thought, unable to process what had happened. But then, the answer came when Star Platinum laughed uncharacteristically, summoned a frying pan and slammed it straight into his face. There was nothing about his cartoonish flat face, but he seemed to take joy out of it as he laughed and shook his head before it transformed into the face of their enemy.

"Rally-ho," he exclaimed, his voice childish and amused. "Sorry, but I'm a fake!" And in another puff of smoke, half of his features took the shape of Silver Chariot. The real Stand floated right behind, gleeful at his successful trick.

"This overwhelming energy! This absolute fear! Oh, what fun! See, Stands are created from your spiritual energy! And in your dreams, your spirits are in an unprotected state! While my Death 13 has them defenseless and crowded here, you can't bring out your Stands!" He then cut off the fake Silver Chariot's head, balancing it on his blade. "Although, if you bring and keep it out before you go to sleep… Well, just like your clothes, bags, and prosthetics, it would have come in as well.

"My Death 13 will never meet any Stands here…" Behind him, a clone of Hierophant Green slipped through the cracks of the floor, a tentacle waving menacingly. "Because that's the only thing that could fight my Stand! That's the reason why I'll win! Heh heh heh… Now! Seeing as this is the end, allow me to symbolically vocalize my generous victory and happy, invigorating feeling!"

He raised his scythe, poised to swipe off all their heads. This was it. They were about to die. Their mission had utterly failed. And all thanks to a baby… Joaquín couldn't have asked for a more embarrassing death.

Mom, Dad, Abuelito, Abuelita, Joutarou, Della… I'm so sorry… I love you all…

"RALLY-" And before he could finish, two silvery-green hands clasped around Death 13's neck, squeezing it. They knew it belonged to Hierophant Green, but what confused them was why the fake would attack his own creator. Unless…

"Rally-ho," he spoke in a familiar voice, and then it became clear.

This was the real Hierophant.

Before they knew it, everyone's hair, clothes, and appendages had returned to normal. And sitting in plain view in one of the spinning cups was none other than a smiling-

"Kakyouin," shouted everyone in relief.

"Noriaki," shouted Joaquín and Della just as relieved.

"When I was knocked unconscious," he said openly to Death 13, "did you forget I brought out my Hierophant? Well, before I really went to sleep, he burrowed underground to hide"

"H-Help… me," Death 13 choked out.

"Come on. It's time for your punishment, baby."

The clown-like Stand flew and slashed back and forth, vainly attempting to get the other Stand off of him. But no matter what he did, Hierophant Green firmly held on to his back and neck. All he could do was struggle and shout to be let go by his attacker.

"That's enough, Death 13..! Can't you see your scythe can't cut me in your blind spot? If you keep up your useless resistance any further… Even though you're a baby," he hopped out of his cup, "you're gonna end up breaking your neck."

Everyone approached the youth, each with equal parts happiness and embarrassment. They all owed him an apology for their attitude towards him, but none more so than Della and Joaquín.

"Noriaki, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you before," she said with a guilty blush. "I should have listened and not acted so… overprotective of a baby that wasn't even mine. You were so adamant about the whole situation... and we've all been through so many battles against the bizarre… It didn't cross my mind that you might have been onto something."

Joaquín rested a hand on her shoulder consolingly as his eyes met the student's. "What's done is done. But she's got a point. None of us should have doubted you, kid. We're all sorry."

But he smiled and waved it off. "It's nothing, Joaquín. I was only able to think of a way to bring my Stand into the dream when you knocked me out with your hamon. It was a long shot, but I figured if I fell asleep and didn't withdraw him, I could bring Hierophant with me. So in a way, it's all thanks to you."

"Oh, geez," chuckled Joaquín with a big grin. "I don't know how to feel about that one. Heh…"

Their moment of atonement was interrupted, however, when they all noticed something bizarre happening around the struggling, midair Stands. The clouds in the sky were converging right above them, forming a single, growing mass. They had all forgotten that in this world, Death 13 had full control over everything. The sky was no exception.

"Don't try anything funny, Death 13," warned Noriaki to the dream-controlling Stand.

"KAKYOUIN," exclaimed Joutarou, "GET HIEROPHANT OFF HIS BACK!"

There was no time to react. The cloud shot out and took the form of a hand, snatching the scythe out of it owners hands. And as swiftly as it did, it gave one good swipe and cut backward through both Stands. Everyone speechlessly watched in horror as Noriaki began to collapse.

"I-Impossible," he stammered, just as shocked as his friends. "Death 13… he even cut up… his own body…"

"NORIAKI," screamed Joaquín as his friend fell face first to the ground, dead at the hands of a terrible Stand's trick. He couldn't believe it. Their friend was gone. He wanted to scream his rage at the dying Death 13, curse him for taking away one of their own, but when he looked up at him, the words caught in his throat. It seemed that their enemy still lived, for he still floated and still laughed as the only thing falling to earth was Hierophant Green and most of his cloak.

And nothing else.

With a gleeful giggle, he shouted, "RALLY-HO!" And tore off the rest of his tattered cloak. There was no body to speak of for Death 13. Just a head, collar, and golden arms. He was all hollow, and he used it to his advantage to seamlessly kill Noriaki's Stand. It really was a nasty trick, and now there was no hope for them. Now they were truly finished.

"Just kidding." And to everyone's surprise, Noriaki rose to his feet, unscathed and whole.

"Kakyouin," shouted Joseph in relief. "You're okay!"

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you," chided Jean Pierre playfully.

"But how the hell did you even survive that," wondered Joaquín aloud.

"If you'd all please look up," Noriaki started nonchalantly as he pointed to the sky, "you'll notice that my Hierophant isn't that reckless that he'd stay on his back forever."

He was right, and Joaquín didn't need his Stand's incredible eyesight to see the trick he pulled of his own. Hierophant was suspended behind Death 13, his body bisected and legless. But he was still connected to the clown through one of his tentacles slithering into his ears. Damn, he's brilliant, thought an impressed Joaquín. He coiled up his lower body before he could even get attacked! He's definitely full of surprises!

While Noriaki's Stand unraveled and entered his enemies body, Death 13 was frozen and unable to stop the internal invasion. Even as he pleaded for him to stop, he didn't stop until his entire body had snaked its way inside the enemy. The clown's mouth opened to reveal the shimmering, golden eyes of Hierophant Green, victorious and in control of his enemy.

"So I guess Dio hasn't told you, huh? My Hierophant's legs can unravel into string. That's why I told you! You couldn't hit me from your blind spot! Now, if you don't want me to rupture your insides, first…" He pulls back his sleeve to show the scars that revealed their attacker's identity. "I want you to heal these wounds now. You're able to do that in this dream, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes," yelped the vulnerable Death 13. And from there, the demands were made to leave them alone from now on, and to give them all a dreamless sleep. They would never remember this dream, and they all doubted they would believe Noriaki if he told them. But at least they could all rest easy knowing that they would have nothing more to worry about when it came to Mannish boy thanks to him.

~+JO*JO+~

What the hell happened last night, wondered Joaquín as he woke up more tired than he had ever been in his life. The only thing he could remember was falling asleep and then waking up. There was no recollection of any dreams in between. Did I have a bad dream or something? God… The only thing I can even remember was some weird laughing and that's it…

"Good morning everyone," announced a chipper voice. "Come on, it's time to get up!"

It was Noriaki. And then everything from the prior night came flooding back.

He sat up straight as the boy knelt beside him, his eyes their usual calm and his smile wide. "Hey, Joaquín. I've got breakfast being made. Do you like oatmeal?"

"Yeah, I do," grumbled Joaquín, stretching his aching body. "Hey, listen, you doing okay? Last night was pretty tense. You were rambling and then you had that scar…"

"Scar? What scar?" His smile didn't falter.

"The-" He straightened up more, now fully awake. "The scar! The one that said 'Baby Stand'! On your left arm! You showed us and you were trying to hurt Mannish Boy!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm perfectly fine. See?" He pulled back his sleeve to show how unblemished it was. No scars to speak of. Was it all just some dream, the one he couldn't remember? "I think you might need some more sleep if you're gonna ramble yourself. Or some oatmeal." And with that, Noriaki went back rousing the others, everyone equally tired and also hungry.

I guess it was just my imagination, he thought with a shrug, watching as everyone was served their breakfast. Oh well. It doesn't matter, either way. Nobody's hurt. Not even Mannish Boy. Who, coincidentally, had become much quieter when it came time to feed him. He still wouldn't eat, even after he had refused last night. They ultimately had to resort to tickling to get his mouth full of his food.

To which he promptly spat it out and cried. Maybe he just really hated anything mushy.

~MANNISH BOY: RETIRED~