[thirteen]


the emperor and the hanged man [part one]


India was simply beautiful. It had market-places full of stalls and spices and rich, vibrant clothing. Its crowds made exploring a little bit more tedious than I had hoped, but I was so excited by the change in scenery that I soon threw myself in the chatter and noise around me.

I took Polaroids of each street and sign. If it was not for Jotaro clamping a hand on my shoulder and steering me around, I would have gotten lost.

"Wait, Jotaro. Let me get a Polaroid of you!"

Begrudgingly, he stood still long enough for me to snap a photograph of him in front of a mosaic wall.

For once his hat did not block his handsome face. Sunlight brought out the warmth of his skin. It captured his features wonderfully. I smiled as I tucked the Polaroid into my pocket for the collection that I had been forming, already filled with monuments from Singapore and a few candid shots of the team at different spots on our journey.

Kakyoin was quite photogenic. Polnareff tended to pull silly faces.

While attempting to capture a quick shot of Mr. Joestar browsing a stall, I spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

It was my father.

Heat flared over my cheeks. It was not caused by the dull oppressive glare of the sun overhead, either. Surely I had made a mistake. My father had no reason to be in India.

And that man had not fully shown his face. It was only his profile that I had seen. He wore a suit like what my father often wore. He even had a watch that matched the one he had been gifted by my mother a long, long time ago.

I moved away from the stalls.

The man who resembled my father was walking at a leisurely pace. He aimlessly passed between the stalls, though he never picked up trinkets or touched the fabrics like Mr. Joestar tended to do, much to Jotaro's annoyance, because it often caused us to dawdle as we waited for the old man to finish his long-winded conversations with vendors and other tourists.

My camera bumped against my chest with each step. I stepped into an alleyway to watch the man who looked like my father.

Shade washed over me, a blissful comfort following the heavy beat of the sun. Laundry was strung overhead on lines between the shuttered windows of apartments, only creating more of a respite from the heat. I followed the winding path of the alleyway.

Each time a gap appeared to the street, I spotted him, and followed him more assuredly until he reached a turn. He lingered, checking his watch. I decided it was best to confront him, finally seeing his face. I heaved a deep breath and moved out from the alleyway.

I called out to him first. He didn't turn his head.

Shamefully, I felt a spark of relief. I hoped it wasn't him. I hoped with everything that I had.

Then I reached for his arm; my hand passed right through him.

Now his head turned and I saw it was my father.

But something wasn't right.

His features had not changed. It was his eyes, I thought. Dead-eyed, like the fishes stretched out on the stalls, scales glittering beneath the sun.

I felt a hand latch onto my left shoulder.

"Janvier Juniper," a voice crooned into my ear. "There you are."

His hand pinched my shoulder. He held me in place. I tried to find him in the reflection of the storefronts, or in passing cars.

In front of us, my father turned his head. His eyes glazed over me.

"My name is Ellis," the man behind me drawled. "Nice to meet you. What do you think of The Big Dream? Quite a unique Stand, if you ask me. Then again, I'm biased."

The image of my father shimmered like a mirage and turned to dust.

I was harshly turned around; a tall, slim man loomed over me. He had a crop of short blond hair; he wore sunglasses that hid his eyes from me, though I knew he was watching every little movement that I made.

He wore a loose linen shirt and beige pants with loafers. He looked like any other tourist wandering the street. I supposed that was the point. He had blended in seamlessly.

"Pretty unique," I agreed. "Not much to offer in a fight, though."

Ellis tipped his head back and laughed.

"Good thing I'm not here to fight you, kid."

"Then what do you want?"

Ellis leaned close to my face, brushing aside a strand of my hair. He smiled wickedly.

"To deliver a message," he whispered. "From Dio."

His fingertips touched my temple.

x

Even though the world had gone black, I knew that I had not fainted or collapsed. I was still standing. I could not feel Ellis touching me, nor could I see him around me. I seemed to be in a dark void.

But it lightened gradually. I recognised where I was.

I had seen it once before.

It made my heart quicken and my hands become clammy as my eyes trailed toward the door at the other end, against which I had heard the beating fists of terrified women.

This was where I had seen Dio.

And he was here.

The hairs upon my nape had risen in warning, promising that he lurked somewhere in those horrid black spots around the rooms. To call them shadows seemed inaccurate, for they seemed to move and grow without care for the candles smouldering in the room, like no object caused their appearance. They were almost sentient, something roaming toward me, waiting to bite.

There was no natural source of light. No windows, no openings to allow fresh, clean air into the room. It was so heavy and dank. A copper scent clung to its furniture. I knew its source. I thought of those frightened women and looked to the ground.

"Juno."

The voice called my name from those shadows in front of me.

Yet Dio was behind me.

I sensed his location a second too late. I turned. I saw the harsh scarring where the body of Jonathan Joestar had been stitched together with Dio's neck.

My eyes rose steadily, unwillingly, to meet his gaze.

In the vision that I had had of him, while healing Mrs. Kujo, Dio had been beautiful. Now, so close before me, I saw that beauty was not strong enough. He was something more than that. I wished that I found him repulsive, and in many ways I did.

But his beauty could not be denied, for his face was angular, his nose straight; even his lips were full and held in a smirk that accentuated his high cheekbones.

It was the translucency of his skin that was off-putting. It was the brief flash of his fangs when he smiled.

"I am pleased that Ellis was successful in finding and isolating you," Dio murmured. "I have been yearning to make you an offer that I believe you will find most appealing. I only wish that I could do so in person. But needs must."

There had been an unsettling aspect to the illusion of my father that was repeated here, in this strange room. It was the eyes, I realised; the illusion of my father had been unable to focus on me. It had looked around me.

Dio could not seem to pinpoint me exactly.

So he was not really in front of me. It was an illusion, like it had been for my father. He had offered Ellis a script, and Ellis was repeating it to me - what he had called a message.

Knowing that should have reassured me.

Yet Dio had such a strong, disturbing presence that even his replicated image made me want to sprint out of this room, aware that it did not even exist.

I had been wrong to think Ellis' Stand was weak or useless. It trapped me in my mind. I saw no exit, no escape. That seemed more threatening to me than any Stand in our team.

"House of the Rising Sun," Dio said. "What a fascinating Stand for such a fascinating person."

For a brief second his eyes seemed to find me. I shivered.

"You understand that I have taken the body of Jonathan Joestar and made it mine. I possess considerable healing capabilities. Like you." He offered a cold, teasing smile. "Naturally, you could assist in speeding up this process. But that is a matter for another time."

This illusion of Dio moved. He stood powerfully before me, extended to his full height. He dwarfed me. It did not help that I found myself shrivelling away from him, afraid even of this illusion.

"Your abilities are wasted with the Joestars. They do not appreciate what you can do. Think of it, dear Juno. Do you know how desperately the human race seeks to escape pain? How they clamour for medicine and remedies to soothe their weak, frail bodies?"

He shook his head.

"You and I both know that pain is inevitable. It is a weakness humans must suffer. Except, that is, for you."

I took a step backward. I became aware of my own breath, so staggered and quick. I concentrated on timed, even breathing to counteract his overwhelming presence.

"You are not bound by pain. It holds no sway over you," Dio continued languidly. "You rise above this most human of traits, in all its forms. Such power. I must question why you degrade yourself by remaining with the Joestars on this pointless journey."

Anger rose in me.

"You could be so much more. You could transcend your mortality and live an eternal life," Dio continued, his voice soft and melodious. "How feared you would be. How rich, how strong, how adored."

I stumbled in my thoughts, staring up at him. Adored?

"Yes, Juno," he purred. "Adored. Loneliness is a terrible thing. Filling your surroundings with artificial sound just to blot it out. Telling yourself, endlessly, that you do not need companionship. Taking whatever crumb of it that you can have, simply to stuff up a void."

My skin burned. I looked away from him, even if he was an illusion and nothing more. Yet this illusion seemed to predict my responses so easily.

"Do not be ashamed," he said. "I do not seek to hurt you. I merely wish to point out how much better you deserve. You join the Joestars because they offer those crumbs. But they use you. They limit you. As soon as you fulfil your supposed duty to them, they will abandon you. Whatever attachment you hold to Jotaro is not, and never will be, returned. Whatever misguided sense of love will be scorned and rejected."

His words only worsened my mortification, that I was so effortlessly exposed.

"You are young and trusting. It is natural that you would believe in them. But I have far more experience with the Joestar bloodline than you. I know what they are. I know, too, that you are so much better. You could be so much more. Here, among those who believe in me, you would be welcomed. Admired for your gift. Praised. Loved."

Dio paused, turning his head in consideration. His voice had grown even more gentle. The mockery of his smile had melted. Now the edges of his lips trembled, holding back a tremor of his own agonies. I had never him show such an expression.

"You would never again know the pangs of solitude. You would never be scolded for your sweet enthusiasm, your eagerness to speak and please. I would cherish your open approval. I would welcome your zealousness. Imagine it, Juno. A life like mine. An existence like mine. You are so close to it already. Pain is the first obstacle to overcome. You have overcome it. There is so little left to be done for you to join me and know euphoria."

What seemed like a lifetime ago, Kakyoin had rested on the ground before me, sweat dampening his brow and his skin pale from the fever the flesh-bud had caused him. He had recounted to us his meeting with Dio, and how he had become his follower. I had recoiled from the mere thought of it. I had wondered how Kakyoin ever fell for a being so cruel, so overtly evil.

Now I understood.

Dio showed such ease in his movements. He was a tall, broad, monstrously beautiful man. When he spoke, he waxed a symphony that rang across the room. When his hands moved in time with his words, one could not help but follow each point and jab.

He entranced. He bewitched.

I understood.

"Think about your allegiance, Juno," Dio said finally. "Are the Joestars truly so deserving of your loyalty? I see so much potential in you. Perhaps you will see it, too, and make the right decision. Find me in Egypt. Make your choice."

The room dripped into nothingness.

x

Ellis had disappeared. My throat was dry. The sky had dimmed. With no watch, the shift in the clouds and brightness was the sole indication that time had passed.

I walked slowly. The whole experience had left me tired and drained.

Ellis was not one of the Stands we had heard about, nor did he seem willing to remain long in the city, which made me wonder if Dio had a whole army of other Stand-users across the world he could summon on a whim.

Dio wanted me to become one of his followers. He admired my Stand. He knew that I had been lonely. He knew more than I had ever imagined.

India was as beautiful as it had been that morning. But I could not quite see it like I had before. I flinched from the outstretched hands of vendors, shaking bags and products at me. I saw none of it.

An existence like mine. You are so close to it already.

"Juniper!"

Jotaro had found me. He stood at the end of the street, a scowl etched across his face. He took his hands out from his pockets and approached. It was strange to see him.

For a second I wondered if he was another illusion.

But his eyes bore through mine, and I knew he was real.

"Where the Hell have you been?" he huffed. "I've been looking for you for hours."

Only that morning, I would never have done what I did then: I threw myself forward and latched my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

His arms rose, taking the brunt of my weight as he steadied us both. He tensed up.

Somewhere along the line, I had begun to cry. Perhaps he felt the dampness through his shirt.

Because he did something unexpected, too.

He lowered his arms. He placed them around me, and drew me close to him. The strength and weight of his body was comforting; his hold was secure, closing me off from the loud honking cars and passing strangers. I refused to budge.

"Jotaro," I started, "why are we friends?"

How bizarre a question it must have seemed to him. Any other time, I might have been embarrassed to ask him. But I still felt like I was in that dark, miserable room. I saw cold translucent skin. I inhaled the odour of copper.

Jotaro answered, "Because you're stubborn. You don't leave me alone."

It might have sounded harsh. It might have made me cry more.

A second later, thought, he spoke again.

He said, "I like stubborn."

x