[eight]

Mr. Joestar brought us to a restaurant at the end of an alleyway, hidden from the street. Before the waitress had even brought us our menus, Mr. Joestar and Avdol had decided that we would travel around the Malaysian Peninsula by boat.

From the shore, I had found tranquillity in the ocean. But I was not looking forward to bobbing across its waves, soaked in the thick scent of salt and likely sunburnt. Still, this was not a vacation, so I shoved aside all worries about sinking boats and rising tides.

"Avdol," Jotaro spoke up. "Juniper gets dizzy if she uses her Stand too much. Any theories on why that is?"

Surprise almost made the menu slip from my hands, not that I could read it. What had made him ask so suddenly? I had planned on questioning Avdol myself. But I wanted to do it somewhere private, without Mr. Joestar and Kakyoin present.

Both of them stared at me, making me sink in my seat, dipping beneath the fear that, to the team, I was now what my father had called me:

A burden.

Mr. Joestar's menu lowered. "Dizziness?"

Heat flared at my nape. "It's nothing major, sir," I said.

"How long does it last?" Kakyoin asked.

"A few minutes," I answered. "Really, it's -..."

"Six minutes, the first time," Jotaro interrupted. "Nine on the plane."

Beneath the round table, I knocked my knee roughly against his leg. What was his problem? At the airport, he had seemed to accept me on this trip. But now he had ratted me out to the others.

My eyes flashed around the table, darting from Kakyoin to Avdol to Mr. Joestar, the last of whom showed a furrow between his thick brows. I chewed at my lip.

Again, Jotaro prompted, "Avdol?"

Avdol had been quietly reflecting on the questions, his hand at his chin, which seemed to be a habit whenever he was lost in his own thoughts. He took a glance around the table, then reached for an empty glass that he filled using a jug of water.

Instead of taking a sip, he placed it in front of me.

"Imagine we are standing in a desert, dying of thirst, and Juno holds the only glass of water. To share it with us, she must use her own share to offer a portion to each of us," he said. "Her Stand is very much the same."

Avdol lifted the full glass of water. He poured some into each glass which had been placed by the waitress in front of Jotaro, Mr. Joestar and Kakyoin. Once he had done that, Avdol filled his own.

All that was left in the original glass was perhaps half an inch of water.

"As you can see, Juno is left with very little water, once it has been shared with others," Avdol continued, his voice calm and low even in the silence of the restaurant around us. "I believe that her Stand creates a sort of life source, like water, which allows others to heal. However, it means that Juno must sacrifice her own share of this life source, pouring it into others as I poured water into your glasses."

"And she can't replenish it for herself," Kakyoin guessed. "Not immediately, at least."

"Precisely," Avdol nodded.

Jotaro asked, "Can she do something about it?"

Avdol once again ruminated on his question.

"It is likely that Juno has no frame of reference for how much of this life source she should give when healing another person," he said. "She might be pouring more than necessary. Or it might be that she must train Rising Sun so that it becomes capable of preserving a sufficient amount for the person whom she wishes to heal, as well as for herself ."

"So we should let ourselves be injured," Kakyoin mused, a smile on his lips. "For training purposes."

Avdol chuckled. "Based on our earlier experience, there are enough servants of Dio willing to inflict injuries as it is."

But Mr. Joestar was distant, staring at the glass of water that Avdol had filled in front of me.

Fear bubbled in me at the sound of his sigh. I recognised all the signs. I became still and tense. I had suffered through similar situations in front of my father, and I braced myself for whatever it was that Mr. Joestar might say.

I tried to soften the blow.

"Mr. Joestar," I called, aware of how timid I sounded. "I can still help this team."

Mr. Joestar offered a kind smile, which warmed his face and eased the anxiety swirling in my stomach.

"I don't doubt you for a second," he said. "I was thinking about Holly, that's all."

Shame reddened my cheeks. I had been selfish, figuring that Mr. Joestar was focused on me and not what lingered back in Japan. Jotaro's head shifted slightly, his gaze lifting from his menu to look at his grandfather.

"She had a spell of vertigo when she was a little girl," the older man continued. "Bright lights made it worse for her, the artificial stuff you see in stores. She preferred to come home, close the curtains in her room, and lie down until it passed. And I would lie with her in the dark, because she - …"

A soft blubbering sound slipped out.

"She used to be afraid of the dark," Mr. Joestar finished.

I softened."Mr. Joestar…"

Jotaro rolled his eyes. "Get a grip, old man. You're gonna slobber all over the tablecloth."

Again, I bashed my knee against his leg underneath the table. "Jotaro!"

Mr. Joestar snatched a napkin and blew his nose. But he was such a large man, and so brutally emotional, that the force caused the table to tremble. The cutlery shuddered, the glasses clinked together, and the chandelier overhead rocked violently back and forth. He shook his head, putting away his napkin.

Mr. Joestar let out a contented sigh. "All better!"

Kakyoin asked, "Shall we order?"

"Pardon me!"

Behind us stood a stranger. He cut a striking figure. He was around six foot, as powerfully built as Jotaro and his grandfather, causing me to crane my neck simply to take in the sharp, angular features of his face.

I wondered if most of his height was not from his hairstyle, composed of a silver updo with a long mullet.

On either ear he wore one half of a broken heart.

"Sorry to be a bother," he said, politely stepping toward us. "I'm a tourist from France. I'm having trouble with the hanzi on this menu. Could you help decipher it for me?"

"You're annoying," Jotaro said flatly. "Get out of here."

"Come now, Jotaro," Mr. Joestar said. "Give him a break!"

When the stranger sat at our table, he knocked the glass of water that Avdol had been using to represent the life source of my Stand earlier. It thumped noiselessly against the table, and rolled twice toward the edge.

The last few droplets spilled out and soaked into the tablecloth.

Some shivering whisper at the ball of my spine made me look around the table, my gaze ghosting past the stranger, chatting now with all the men at the table.

Except for one.

Jotaro was looking right at me. He tilted his head almost imperceptibly at the stranger, as if asking a question. Even without words spoken aloud, I understood what it was he wanted to know: do you trust him?

I shook my head.

And I knew he didn't either.

x

Within half an hour, our suspicions of this stranger had been proven right as he challenged Avdol to a fight at the Tiger Balm Gardens of Hong Kong. Avdol had accepted it, and he was battling the Frenchman admirably. I supposed he was at an advantage in this open, airy space.

The sweet floral tang of the gardens contrasted the hot, sizzling fire of Magician's Red as it battled the Frenchman's Stand.

His name was Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

He was a follower of Dio. His Stand was also a lot more poised and elegant than the insect we had encountered on the plane. It resembled a knight, possessing all of the self-importance of Polnareff himself. Its rapier flashed and sparked with each parry; its eyes, encased within its helmet, were deep-set, shining with fierce intelligence.

The battle raged between them.

From the sidelines, the rest of us watched. While Kakyoin and Mr. Joestar were quite enraptured, Jotaro appeared more and more bored as it continued. Even the fact that Polnareff could create copies of his Stand only caused a slight raise of his brow.

With the camera that Mrs. Kujo had given me, I snapped a photograph of a tortoise beside us, holding it beneath my armpit to allow it to develop. It was turning out quite nicely, its leafy shell a rich green shade.

"Juno," Avdol called. "Are you paying attention?"

An embarrassing squeak burst from me as I spun around and stuffed the camera into my backpack. The photograph fluttered in the air, a traitorous sign that I had been a little distracted by the decorations in the park.

"Yes," I mumbled. "I am."

Jotaro grabbed the photograph mid-air and pushed it into my hands.

"No," Jotaro said monotonously. "She's not."

Like the dummy of a ventriloquist, I tried hard not to let my lips move too much as I hissed, "Shut up. You weren't either, jackass."

Avdol narrowed his eyes at me, tipping his head. But the growing smile on his lips betrayed him, too.

"Well, now is a good time to begin," he exclaimed. "There is much you will learn."

"The only thing you'll learn, ma grande," Polnareff called to me, "is to know when you've lost the fight."

His gaze pinned Avdol.

"And you, Avdol, have lost."

What confidence I had felt in Avdol was dwindling fast, because the copies of Polnareff's Stands began to whirl in a circle, approaching Avdol with blinding speed.

Even Jotaro, who had been watching the fight with disinterest, stepped forward, his hands falling slack from his pockets.

He shouted out, "Avdol!"

"It's no good," Mr Joestar said. "Polnareff's Stands are in a circular formation!"

"There's no opening," Jotaro added.

Kakyoin had grown pale. "Polnareff's going to deflect it back like all the others!"

Because of the slash Polnareff's rapier, glinting brightly against the sunlight, it had become impossible for us to tell where Avdol was or where the blows landed. His body became lost in the swirl of dirt and chunky soil.

I inched forward like the others, awaiting the worst, convinced that all that would be left of our friend was a bloodied corpse. I readied myself for the dust cloud to clear, so I could run to him and heal him.

But when it cleared, there was no corpse.

Only a rumble from the ground as the earth shifted. Suddenly a lumpy hail of rocks burst out, followed by a searing flash of fire.

Polnareff was swallowed up in the flames.

When all had cleared and quietened, Avdol kneeled on the ground, unharmed.

At his feet, a hole smouldered.

"The hole he made earlier!" Mr. Joestar exclaimed. "That flame dug a tunnel, into which he blasted the crossfire hurricane!"

Avdol tossed a dagger at Polnareff, whose skin sizzled and wept.

"Flame can be a hard way to die," Avdol said. "You should take the dagger, and end it yourself."

Polnareff's eyes rose, catching sight of the dagger.

Avdol turned, his cloak sweeping the ground. I rushed to him and placed my hand on his wrist. He had only little cuts and scrapes. For such a battle, I found myself in awe.

"You're hardly injured at all," I said.

"Then there is no need to share so much water with me," he said, alluding to our conversation at the restaurant.

I smiled. "I'll be careful."

Before, I might have swallowed his arm in that gold light and allowed it to heal all parts of him. But I looked at each cut, speckled in dirt and grime from the fight. I focused.

It was a simple cut, and soon it stitched together. I moved to the next gash, somewhat deeper, a direct hit from a rapier that bled more than any other wound.

Avdol watched me. "Well?"

"No dizziness," I told him. "Maybe after Polnareff."

His face was blank. "You would heal him?"

"I -..." I hesitated. "Is that wrong?"

From where he had fallen, Polnareff was motionless, though his eyes moved to the dagger.

It was awful to witness how his hand twitched forward, fingers trembling against wave after wave of pain.

"Think of that desert," Avdol said. "And all those around you. Some are deserving of that water. Some are not."

Behind him, Polnareff tossed the dagger.

"I choose to die slowly from my burns," he said. "I owe at least that much respect to the ability which has defeated me. It would be cowardly to end it myself."

Light sparked in Avdol's eyes. He turned, snapping his fingers; the flames which blistered and burned Polnareff were gone in an instant. Smoke rose from his injuries, but he lay motionless, the dagger inches from his hand.

Now the floral tang of the gardens swept over us. I was reminded of the parks that Jotaro and I had explored in Japan, passing through flowerbeds. My eyes drifted.

There he stood, a few yards away.

Avdol and I approached Polnareff.

"His sense of honour prevails until the end!" Avdol said. "And he didn't use the dagger to attack me from behind! His honour overrides the orders of Dio himself! It would be a waste to kill him. There's a reason behind what he did."

Polnareff was like a flower in this garden, blooming for the first time in front of me. I glimpsed potential in him, in the knowledge that not all followers of Dio were so bound to him, that there was hope that one, even one, could break from the weeds and blossom on its own.

"So he might be one of the deserving after all," I said.

Avdol noticed my grin and returned it.

He crouched over Polnareff, pulling him onto his back. His face was contorted in pain. Mr. Joestar dropped to his knees, hoisting Polnareff into his arms. He moved his silver hair, and showed what was now becoming clear to me: Polnareff had a flesh-bud, too.

It wiggled and fought as if it sensed that Polnareff had rejected it.

"Jojo," Avdol said. "Do the honours."

Jotaro showed a rare smirk. "Gladly."

Star Platinum ripped out the flesh-bud. Mr. Joestar let out a surprisingly high-pitched shriek as the bud dangled, its red-coloured tentacles lashing around, desperately trying to grip onto one of us.

"Now that the flesh bud is gone, we can be bud-dies. Get it?" Mr Joestar joked. He glanced around. "Huh? Get it?"

"Kakyoin," Jotaro sighed, shaking his head, "don't people who make stupid puns get on your nerves?"

Avdol took me aside.

"Before you heal Polnareff, I must ask that you consider that glass of water in any encounter with a Stand user," he said.

"I understand."

But his eyes were shrewd.

"There will be others," he said, "who will whisper whatever words you wish to hear, only so you might heal them. Unlike Polnareff, they will plead and beg. But rest assured that their daggers will be used, and used on you, with all the strength you returned by healing them."

As the petals swirled in a lazy breeze, and Kakyoin's laugh rang out behind us, Avdol added, "Do not let the dagger which takes you down be made of your own desire to be the hero, Juno."

Before I could question him further, he turned, crossing his arms as he approached the three men who waited by a carving of an elephant. His words echoed. I felt each letter etch itself into my skin.

But the meaning was fogged up, like condensation clouding a window.

The soft low murmur of their conversation followed me to Polnareff's side. His burns were significant. The flesh of his arms was most badly injured. I had to offer more than a glass of water.

But the flesh-bud had been removed, and his brow was pinched in such pain that I would have given him a jug if that was what he needed.

His eyelids fluttered. "Sherry?"

His head turned. He saw me, and his shoulders dipped. I was not the person he had anticipated upon waking, that much was certain.

I wondered who she was, and what had caused him to call for her with such sadness in his voice.

Switching into French, which I only ever spoke with my mother, I introduced myself: "I'm Juno. I'd like to use my Stand to heal you, if you'll allow me."

"Even though I attacked Avdol?"

"He's forgiven you," I told him.

"What about the big fellow dressed in black? He disliked me from the start."

I cast a short glance at Jotaro. He was speaking to Avdol, though his own eyes skimmed the gardens, passing over a carved elephant and a smaller chimpanzee a little further on the path. The golden chain on his chest glittered in the sunlight.

I smiled at Polnareff. "Don't take it personally," I replied. "He's not fond of anybody."

"Not even you?"

"He tolerates me."

"You jest," he said. "No-one could dislike such a pretty girl."

"Keep talking like that and I'll ask Avdol to fry you some more."

Polnareff let out a hearty laugh, though it pained him.

"I don't doubt it," he wheezed.

"Will you let me help you?"

"No need for formality with me, ma grande," he said.

Polnareff thus allowed me to address him informally, putting us on more equal footing. Though I also thought that he took a little pleasure in teasing me, like an older brother might, using a silly pet-name to show he considered me younger.

It put me at ease, knowing that he was no longer a threat to us, and that he happened to be quite pleasant without that bud pulsating in his forehead.

"Juno," he repeated. "Enchantée."

With that, he placed a kiss against my knuckles, barely hiding the playful grin on his face. He wanted to make me laugh, and it worked.

The healing lasted a few moments. It was the first time that I healed burns as intense as what he suffered. To my great surprise, there was only a small spot of dizziness. Avdol had been right. It required focus on each wound, instead of healing the entire body.

Once finished, Polnareff said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He studied me a moment. "Parisian?"

I smiled. "How did you know?"

"The accent."

Polnareff offered a poor imitation of me. I barely held in a laugh, shaking my head at him as he stood. He offered a hand, which I accepted.

I asked him, "What'll you do now?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Make amends."

"Juniper."

Jotaro stood close to us. He ignored Polnareff pointedly, his hands sinking into his pockets.

"Come on," he said. "We're leaving."

I stood up. "Goodbye, Polnareff. Good luck."

"Good luck, little Juno."

As the carvings of Tiger Balm Gardens dwindled from sight, so too did the figure of Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

x

We were not separated from Polnareff for long. At the port, where the ship bringing us to Singapore was pulling in, he appeared and told us of what had tied him to Dio: Sherry, his murdered sister, and his search for the man who killed her.

There was something unsettling about this stranger, a follower of Dio himself, having two right hands. I saw it starkly, in my mind's eye, so vivid a picture that it brought goosebumps to my flesh.

Polnareff hoped to find him, and join us on our journey. The team voted one by one.

Mr. Joestar glanced at me. "Juno?"

"He could be useful," I said. "Notre preux chevalier."

Polnareff barked a laugh and reached for me, wrangling me into a hold that let him knuckle my hair. Compared to me, he was a giant. For all his bravado, he was still aware of his strength, holding me quite loosely, so I was able to easily slip out and smack at him.

In French, he continued.

"What was that? Did a little butterfly brush against me?"

I grumbled, "I was holding back."

Polnareff shielded his eyes against the sunlight, looking around theatricality.

"Did anyone hear something?"

"Polnareff."

"There it is again! That little voice." He pretended to look down, as if he only spotted me in that moment. "Oh, Juno, you're so short, I almost missed you there."

From where he stood beside Kakyoin, Mr. Joestar asked, "Are they fighting or getting along?"

Polnareff slung an arm around my shoulder and spun us toward the old man. He showed a bright, flashy grin.

"Are you kidding? She loves me," he said in English. "She thinks I'm handsome and smart and -..."

"And full of himself," I finished.

Mr. Joestar laughed heartily. "Well, let's grab our things - …"

"Excuse me!"

Two pretty girls approached Jotaro, politely asking if he would take their photograph, but his answer was cold and harsh.

Polnareff stepped between him and the pair, taking the camera and herding the girls aside so he could help. We all watched him, surprised.

"His mood changes on a dime," Kakyoin noted.

Placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, Avdol asked, "Do you truly approve of his presence on this trip, Juno?"

There was something endearing in his question, as if he worried that I had simply accepted Polnareff because I felt pity for the Frenchman. But I found him goofy and playful and thought he might lighten the atmosphere on this trip.

And his Stand was impressive. We needed that kind of strength.

"Yeah," I said, watching Polnareff. "He's not so bad."

Mr. Joestar looked to his grandson. "Jotaro?"

Jotaro lifted his head.

"Fine by me," he said shortly.

"It's settled! Let's board," Mr. Joestar said.

x

The ship rocked slowly back and forth as it left the port. Seagulls sang overhead, and salt crispened the air. I stood at the bow, leaning against the rails, reflecting on the cool white foam slopping against the ship.

Jotaro approached. I realised it had been a while since we had been alone.

I asked, "Why'd you tell them about the dizziness?"

His focus was fixated on the horizon.

"Because it could affect the team," he answered simply. "It could put them in danger."

The waves rolled. A horn sounded, someplace distant. I rocked with the ship, a languid slow pace.

Surprising me, Jotaro suddenly added, "It could put you in danger."

Guilt rose up in me. He had a point. It was no longer about pride. It was, in this trip across the globe, a matter of life and death. One small slip-up and a follower of Dio could easily finish us off.

"I'm working on it," I said softly. "I did a lot better when I was healing Avdol and Polnareff."

"Good. Then stand straight."

"Huh?"

"Training," he said. "Next time someone Polnareff's size puts you in a headlock like that, you should know how to get out of it."

"He was playing around. He barely even put any effort in."

"But there'll be a Stand-user out there who will," he said. "Or was all that talk about training a bunch of bullshit?"

My hands balled. "No."

"Then charge me."

I steadied myself. "You asked for it."

x

An hour later, I was lying flat on the ground, groaning; a sailor passed, stepping over me as he carried boxes. With great confusion, he paused, turning right back around so he could lean over me.

He asked, "Are you all right, Miss?"

Instead of a coherent answer, a choked wheeze left me.

"She's fine. Get lost."

From where he stood in the shade nearby, smoking a cigarette, Jotaro had spoken up and frightened the sailor.

He almost dropped the boxes in his hands.

"O-Oh. Okay."

He scampered in seconds.

Through another wheeze, I asked, "How long more?"

Jotaro inhaled, glancing at his cigarette.

"Another two or three drags, and I'll be finished."

"Okay." I huffed, pushing myself up off the ground. "Are you sure you don't feel like having another one?"

He ground the cigarette into the railing, purposefully looking right at me while he did it. I winced as its orange tip fizzled out, ash crumbling to the ground, swept away in the wind.

"Actually," he said smoothly, "I feel like finishing early."

x

One more hour passed before Jotaro finally summoned Polnareff. He sauntered over to us, arms laced behind his head, grin plastered on his face.

He stretched and asked, "Well, what do you want?"

"Put Juniper in a headlock," Jotaro said.

Polnareff blinked. "Come again?"

"You heard me. And don't go easy on her."

Polnareff laughed. He stretched some more, and loosely put his arms around me.

"Ignore that brute," he whispered to me. "I'll let you - ..."

I used his slack stance to reach for his shoulder and pull him back, kicking him off-balance. He fell, although it was not a monumental hit against the ground because he was quick to catch himself.

Still, a flash of surprise passed over his face.

Behind him, Jotaro said, "I told you. That's all you need."

"You're right."

Polnareff glanced between us. "What?"

I grinned. "Someone to underestimate me."

x

A little while later, I scrubbed off the dirt and changed into a much lighter dress, patterned in stripes to match the sailors. It was a pity that the others had no flair for fun, except for Mr. Joestar, who had been more than willing to don a striped sleeveless vest that made him blend into the crew.

Emerging from the cabin onto the deck, I felt light and airy, practically lifted by the warm air. I walked toward the deck chairs, where Jotaro was already dozing, hat tipped over his face to shield him from the sun.

The chair was comfortable, and the rocking of the ship made me want to drift off, eyelids heavy and tired.

"Nice dress."

My eyes shot open, head twisting toward Jotaro. He had not moved his hat, or his body, one inch that I had seen.

I said, "T-Thank you."

Then I leaned back against the chair, allowing myself to close my eyes again, shifting my head so he could not see the large smile spreading across my face, or hear the hard pit-pat of my heart thumping in my chest.

But he made a soft sound, a half-hearted huff, like he laughed.

And so I knew he'd noticed. Somehow, it didn't bother me.

It only made me smile more.

x

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this chapter! just adding a little note to explain 'ma grande' can be a pet name used like 'sweetheart' or 'honey' but usually from an older person to a younger person, in my experience it's always been an affectionate nickname. also 'notre preux chevalier' means 'our valiant knight'. anyway, have a nice week :)