XXX

Josuke was currently experiencing hell. Almost a quarter of the way up the Hell Climb Pillar, it had taken him most of the previous day to figure out the proper way to ascend, never mind actually starting.

I just wish this crap wasn't so damn hard! He thought to himself.

The pillar was a whopping 24 meters high, with a circumference of roughly 7.5 meters. Though they existed, crevices in which to climb the sheer construct were few and far between, and to make it worse the entire pillar was slathered in a thick viscous oil that made gripping anything virtually impossible, for the uninitiated.

The trick was to use a minimal amount of Hamon on your fingers and toes to conduct oneself to the pillar. You didn't want to use more than you could replenish, otherwise, you would risk a potentially very nasty fall.

This would be so much easier if I could use [Crazy Diamond]…wait, why can't I?

Just as he was about to summon his stand, Josuke looked up to meet the gaze of an aged man with a large overcoat and blue beanie hat.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Did you forget I said I would be watching you, Josuke? The entire point of this exercise is for you to learn not to rely on your stand." The old man said in a wizened voice.

"Oh, shut up, dad!" Josuke yelled in frustration. Wait…dad? Since when have I had a dad? He had to get up there, he had to talk to this man!

Attempting to blitz up the wall, Josuke spied a rare ledge he might have used to give himself a boost. That was, if it hadn't been a trap.

*Click*

A sense of dread permeated Josuke as his hand felt the hidden button activate some unknown contraption to the already difficult test. Gears hidden in the pillar moved unseen pipes and levers before a torrent of oil gushed out circularly in a thin highly pressurized line around the pillar, creating a transpicuous wall of death.

Oh great! Josuke thought in frustration.

If he was lucky the oil wall wouldn't be as dangerous as it seemed. Thinking quickly, Josuke used a Hamon-enhanced strike to break a small chunk of the pillar before chucking it at the pressurized liquid several feet above, only to watch as half of the fragment was ground by the oil, while the other half was carried off by the force of the blast, only to fall to the viscid pool below.

*Gulp* Yeah, not getting through that anytime soon.

"You know I'm a bit happy, Josuke!" a voice called out. It was his supposed father, the man he had been trying to get to. "I mean, it would have been easier had you not activated that, but like father, like son, right?"

What is this idiot talking about!?

"H-Hey! Watch your grip there, sonny!" The old man called out in panic.

It was only then that Josuke realized his grip had slipped, and not only that, but he was also falling, and falling fast. Turning his head to look at the pool below, Josuke was sure he would be able to survive if he could gain control of his bearings, perhaps charge his feet with Hamon break the fall, but instead of a small pool of oil, all that was below him was a dark seemingly bottomless chasm.

Fighting his fear, Josuke turned back to the pillar. I can still make it if I can grab hold of the Pillar! He thought desperately. But now that too had disappeared. All around him was blackness and the fall. Closing his eyes, Josuke held his breath preparing for his imminent crash.

*fwump!*

Feeling the impact, but no pain, Josuke carefully opened his eyes afraid of what he would see. As soon as he did his senses were bombarded from every angle by the noise, color, and atmosphere of a grand fine dining establishment. Italian, if Josuke was one to guess.

Wait…Italian, the hell's an Italian? Josuke thought to himself, clearly unaware that he was making too uncouth a face for the company he was keeping.

"Josuke, is there something wrong with your food?" An elderly woman asked from across the table he was seated at. To his right, the same man from the pillar was attacking an unappetizing plate of black noodles, while to his left, a young girl in sunglasses continued to slowly eat a rice and pea porridge.

"Oh, leave him be, Suzy. This is to celebrate him finishing his training. Can't blame the boy if he's got too much on his mind." The old man said as he continued to attack his spaghetti.

Before she could reply, Suzy's attention turned to the young girl with large sunglasses. "I knew it, Joseph! Shizuka, you stop turning your peas invisible this instant! We aren't leaving until you finish everything!"

"Am not!" Shizuka retorted as she attempted to nonchalantly put her spoon to her side. Josuke was sure he heard several very small thumps hit the floor but said nothing as mother and daughter began to argue.

The old man, now Joseph, began to chuckle as his wife admonished the young girl for not eating her vegetables. "Holly used to be just as stubborn as a kid. No idea where they get it from." He said with a bemused smile.

Before Josuke could speak, a well-dressed waiter suddenly appeared between him and his father with a covered silver tray.

"My good sirs." He began, "It is my pleasure to inform you that your meal has been paid for in full. Please enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Wait. Who paid for our food?" Josuke asked.

"Why, that would be the gentlemen above, signore." The waiter said pointing to the restaurant's second floor.

Joseph didn't need to ask for specifics as his gaze met the eyes of a curly-blond-haired man in a fashionable all-white outfit fitted with gold decorations. He had a turtle on his shoulder 'Gross!' and was surrounded by a posse of other uniquely dressed individuals. A girl with a poncho, a man with an arrow-hat who twiddled with his revolver, a man who looked almost homeless, and another blond individual who wore a black and purple tux.

As they stared at each other, the curly blond raised a glass of wine toward Josuke and smiled, essentially admitting he was their kind Samaritan.

"Members of Passion." The waiter said under his breath. "I recommend you accept their hospitality; they are very dangerous people."

"…That turtle…" Joseph began, "…seems awfully familiar…"

"Furthermore, Mr. Joestar, another patron sent this your way." The waiter said before lifting the lid of the tray and revealing a black rotary phone.

Josuke stared at the phone as it was placed in front of Joseph, who didn't seem at all concerned that the archaic phone was not plugged into any wiring whatsoever. Then the phone rang, and the room went black save for Joseph, Josuke, the table, and the phone.

Joseph picked up the phone, unconcerned that his wife, daughter, and existence itself seemed to have disappeared from all around them.

"Uh huh…yes…uh huh. I understand." Joseph said before he stared pointedly at Josuke. "He says he wants to talk to you."

Josuke wanted to ask who it was, but his body no longer felt like it was his own. He extended his hand out to receive the handset from his father like he was acting out a play. As soon as he had it, Joseph dissolved into mist, along with the table, leaving Josuke feeling like this had happened many times before. All that was left was Josuke, the phone, and an incredible feeling of anticipation as he brought the handset to his ear.

"H-Hello…" Josuke asked, his heart beating uncontrollably.

Leave the Mobius…. you must…escape the lake…. find me…my friend…

XXX

Josuke woke up startled and sweating, typical whenever he had an incident. Usually, what that meant was that he had had a nightmare, unusual, was that he never remembered what they were about, save for a reoccurring voice that pleaded for his help. The message wasn't always the same, Josuke wasn't even sure he always remembered them correctly, but they always left him with a feeling akin to dread, a gaping hole in his mind and psyche that reminded him he had to do…something. The incidents were few and far between, less than five since he had awoken in Meteor City, but the feeling they left always lingered for weeks afterward, like a bad itch.

This time had been different, however. Josuke almost never remembered anything from his dreams, any dreams. Faces and places blurred together in his sleeping memory into an incomprehensible canvas of nothing, but this time he had remembered something he knew was important.

Jo?..Joe?..Jos?..Joes? Josuke thought to himself. He knew it was a name, and despite how similar it sounded, he knew it wasn't his own at the tip of his tongue. Something was missing. "Or maybe I'm just fooling myself," Josuke mumbled before raising himself off the dusty futon he had awoken from.

On the floor to his right was a glass of water, likely left by Milda, Horso's daughter. It was warm to the touch, but Josuke's mouth was dry, and he appreciated the drink, nonetheless. Wiping his brow, he made his way to the stairs before spying a small pale of water and two towels.

She probably smelt me before I woke up. Josuke mused before proceeding to wash himself down. It was hot, but then again, he was sleeping in the attic of Horso's bar, the tin roof above him turning much of the cluttered room into a makeshift oven. For it to be so hot must have meant he slept till nearly noon.

Why am I even here again…Right…My house burnt down.

Putting on the patched jeans and wife beater that had been laid out for him, Josuke made his way down to the bar proper. If he was lucky, he'd be able to grab something quick to eat before he'd make his way to his shop to survey the damage.

"Heya, Jojo. Tough morning, huh?" A feminine voice called from behind the counter. It was Milda, a middle-aged woman with golden hair and a motherly face that looked nothing at all like her portly father's.

"That's putting it lightly," Josuke replied before taking a seat at the bar. "Just about to head out and check on the damage. Any word on who the perps were?"

"Unfortunately, no. Grapevines have been pretty dry on whoever tried to burn your house. Only…"

"What?"

"Well," Milda said apprehensively. "Some people said they saw a couple of figures, maybe three or four, running through the back alleys around the time your shop started burning…"

"So, we know where they went!?" Josuke said, excited at the prospect of catching whoever had done this.

"…Not exactly," Milda said sadly as she polished a glass. "More like…they were probably local."

"Oh…" That was…something.

While Josuke wouldn't have been fool enough to believe everyone in Daggertown liked him, he had rather thought he had an overall positive reputation in the community. Certainly, he hadn't known any enemies that would want to outright kill him, not local anyway. His first suspects on the potential arsonists had been the Stray-moes family or some such he had beaten the previous day. Certainly, no one would have helped them, not after the stunt they had pulled. But, as Milda had pointed out, the burners had escaped and gotten away through alleyways and channels only someone born in Daggertown could have known.

Could they have bribed someone to help them? Josuke thought in irrigation.

"You may have to give it up, Josuke. I'm sorry." Milda said with genuine pity.

Josuke knew she was right. At this point, the perpetrators were long gone, and if no one showed up soon with solid evidence, he'd have a hard time acquiring justice that would satisfy his own conscience. It wasn't uncommon for locals to lay the blame for large crimes on groups or individuals they disliked. One mafia may accuse another, while one street urchin may lay the blame at the feet of a rival. Offer a reward, and people would tell you anything you wanted to hear.

"Least I can do is offer you lunch before you head out, Jojo." Several minutes later Milda came out of the kitchen with a thin sandwich and a glass of water.

Josuke chewed the offered food slowly, grateful, but their mind was too full of the previous night's events to truly focus on eating.

"Ya know…" Milda began, interrupting Josuke from his gloom. "I wasn't sure my boy's clothes would fit on you, but I'm glad I took the chance. They look good on you. You should show off your body more often. There's a lot you like to hide. Coco was right, it is pretty cute."

Josuke's face turned a beet red. He was never good with compliments that came from ladies.

"M-Milda, y-you can't. I-I'm t-taken. Who are you – C-Cute?!" Josuke said in an embarrassing stutter.

"Oh, you are just adorable. I swear you shouldn't be giving off such prime virgin energy, not with a body like that. You and Coco are two peas in a pod, I swear." She said wiping a tear from her eye.

Josuke didn't know how to respond to that. If his face could get any hotter, forget his house, Horso's bar would have been in serious danger of catching fire. Whatever look was on his face though, clearly must have been amusing since Milda began to laugh vigorously.

Skrew this! Josuke thought with a touch of anger. He was done with his food; he had a house to repair; he didn't have to sit here and be embarrassed.

Standing up to leave, Milda quickly waved him to sit down before apologizing. "Oh come now, I was just having a bit of fun with you. Besides, I was talking about your birthmark. Coco was right, it's such a cute little star. You should show it off more often. It's like a little tattoo."

"Must have had it since I was born."

"Well, it is cute. Oh, hey! I have a wild idea. Maybe start calling yourself that from now on?" Milda suggested.

"What? Star? Josuke suits me just fine."

"Not that dummy. I swear Coco could do so much better. Your last name, stupid. You hate people using Fix, right?"

That was true. It was a name that came from his occupation, but not something he had ever really felt comfortable with.

"Josuke…Star. Hmm. Not sure how I feel about that."

"Think about it. You're gonna want to give Coco a name she can be proud of one day." Milda teased.

Josuke face flushed in combined irritation and embarrassment before he promptly stomped off his stool and made his way toward the door. Milda's voice trailing after him between fits of laughter.

"Papa says you can stay with us if things don't work out with the shop. See ya later, Joe Star!" She called out, making sure to put extra emphasis on her new name for him.

Josuke slammed the door behind the rotund woman, irate, but grateful he no longer had to listen to her voice. He made it approximately ten steps on the 15-minute walk to his burned shop before he stopped cold, his whole body shaking.

Joe…Star! He screamed in his head before falling to his knees. That was the name he had been trying so desperately to remember when he awoke. As unlikely as it was, Milda's teasing had given him the missing piece.

"Joestar," Josuke mumbled as a small crowd of people walk around him in concern. He wasn't sure whose name it was. Didn't even think it was his own if he was being honest. There was no face for him to put the name to, or memory of a place to accompany the familiar word.

It was a beginning, however…. but to what?

"All right everyone," Coco began, addressing her students, "Before you leave today, I want you all to make a concerted effort to go over the multiplication tables we practiced, all right?"

Eager to leave, most of the children happily promised to do their best, the unspoken reality being that most would not have had spare writing utensils or paper at their homes to waste on the homework.

"To that end," Coco continued, as she pulled a small stack of notebooks and a small box of pens from beneath her desk. "I have a special gift for you. You all get your very own notebooks and pens! Courtesy of some very generous benefactors."

Most of the children looked elated at the gift, no doubt prepared to do all manner of creative childish things with the tools.

"Who got us em, Ms. Abelnite?" Kish, one of her more adorable students with a perpetually runny nose asked.

"That's a good question, Kish. Unfortunately, they asked to remain anonymous." Coco answered with a smile as she forced down a small pang of guilt.

She had lied. To one of her students no less. Coco didn't have the heart to tell them that the Phantom Troupe had gifted an undisclosed amount of money to each of the districts with specific allotments made for schools. She had simply taken the money her grandmother had offered, knowing where it had come from, and bought the supplies she knew her students needed. She wasn't proud of herself; she had been given the option to decline the funds but had put her students' overall well-being above her own dignity. She always would.

The Phantom Troupe already enjoyed a status akin to folk heroes or living legends in Meteor City. Maybe it wasn't Coco's place to steer these children away from following the crowd, but so long as they were in her school, they were her children. The less they looked up to people like….like Machi, her distant estranged cousin. The better.

Dismissing any remaining questions her students had, Coco handed out the supplies to each of her children, confident tomorrow they would all bring back notebooks filled with drawings and all manner of things unrelated to her earlier lesson.

On a small table next to her desk and chalkboard, a small pot of coffee remained warm from when she had earlier made it fresh during her lunch. Pouring some into her mug, Coco took the rest of the stale liquid and tossed it out the window before making a fresh brew. Normally, she wouldn't have been so wasteful, but old friends should always talk over a nice drink, and Muska was the oldest she had. With any luck, he would arrive within the hour.

Luckily for Coco, she didn't have to wait so long as that. Within a half-hour, she spotted his familiar green hair from the corner of her eye as he made his way to the door she had left open. He was carrying something, an exquisitely made red box with gold lettering and a ribbon.

"I hope I'm not late." He said with a charming smile as he stepped into the classroom, they had shared so many years ago.

Coco wasn't expecting the wave of sadness and nostalgia to hit her as hard as it had when he had surprised them last night with his unannounced visit, but it did. She had had years to get over Mikkelo's death, but just looking at Muska's face brought old memories to the fore, both sad and happy. He just looked so much like his brother, the man she had nearly married almost six years ago.

"So how have things been with you?" Muska asked, initiating the conversation.

Coco took out an extra mug and poured him a glass of fresh coffee, before answering. "It goes on," she replied, honestly. "I swear Muska, I never felt so bad for Mr. Moro as when I became a teacher myself. We gave him such a hard time."

"That we did. You remember the time I stole that guppy from old man Yoho?"

"The one you put in Mr. Moro's water. You were so terrible" Coco replied with a chuckle.

"Oho, and whose idea was that I wonder?"

Coco's cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink. She hadn't been the most well-behaved child when she was younger. Had been near twice the tomboy that her sister was today.

"Oh c'mon. You know it was you. I wanted to use it for bait to hunt stray cats, Mikkelo was the one who put the poor thing in Moro's glass, and only because you made him."

*Smack*

Shame and embarrassment washed over Coco as she realized she had punched Muska's shoulder. In their youth, Coco had been the ringleader of their little three-man posse of terror, and she hadn't been afraid to serve either a playful punch whenever she had wanted her way. Which had been most of the time. Something about being around Muska was bringing out old habits.

"I'm so so so sorry, Muska!" She pleaded. "I don't know what came over me! I-" But she was interrupted by her green-haired friend's chuckling, as he rubbed his shoulder.

"That's our old Coco!" Muska yelled. "Always quick to a punch! But you also always had our back. That's what made you such a great leader."

Coco's face turned beet red in embarrassment.

When his laughing calmed down, Muska continued. "You know…we let you hit us. Even now, it never hurt, or at least it was a small price to pay…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well…we both liked you. Both I and Mikkelo. You may not understand, but when a young boy likes a young girl, he'll suffer through, and do a lot of dumb things to impress her."

Coco wasn't surprised by his confession, she knew what puppy love was, and had suspected as much from the twins as they grew up together. One had even turned into a full-blown relationship. It was what Muska said next that really startled her.

"I hated him, you know. Almost as much as I love and miss him?"

A pit formed in Coco's stomach as she suspected who it was that Muska was talking about.

"I wonder…If I had confessed to you first. Would you have chosen me?"

"I... where is this coming from, Muska?" Coco asked, caught off guard.

"It's just a question I've always had lingering in my mind."

Coco found herself unable to answer immediately. Unable to find the words that would satisfy what it was she wanted to convey, as well as wanting to avoid saddening a friend she cherished as much as Muska.

"I…never loved you…not like that, Muska." She could see that her words were hurting him but continued. "You're the closest thing I have to a brother, but you and I didn't share the same heart."

"Didn't share the same heart?" He repeated bitterly.

"I fell in love with Mikkelo's gentleness, Muska. There was an edge to you I always knew was there, it scared me. Besides, we had different priorities. You wanted to leave the City, make it big in the Mafia, any Mafia. Mikkelo wanted to make things better here. I wanted to make things better here. We resonated in a way I never felt with you. I hope you understand."

They sat in awkward silence together as Muska processed her words. Several seconds later, Muska unwrapped the box he had brought. Inside were an assorted array of colored pastries arranged in the likeness of a rainbow.

"They're called; Macaroons," Muska said, before motioning her to try one.

Humoring him, she reached for and took a bite out of a blue one, surprised to find she enjoyed the sweet flavor.

"They're good, right?" He said not expecting a reply. "It's just a small taste of what the world has to offer that a place like Meteor City will never be able to give. Not security, not respect, not safety, and not these delicious Macaroons.

We waste our entire lives here, Coco. Living a dream of hot sandy death until we die, and there's nothing on the other side for us, and no one to remember us but the ones we leave behind. I…I dreamed of anything else. My-I mean…Our mother was a whore, our father some swine from who knows where. I wanted a better life for myself, and for Mikkelo…and for you. I wanted to share a better life with you. I wish I could have told you that sooner."

Coco tried to reassure her old friend that she understood his feelings, but what he said next gave her pause.

"Is it him? The boy with the stupid-ass hair?"

"Josuke, no he-"

"Is that what you go for? Is there an age requirement now? I understand Mikkelo and I were younger back then, but I never expected you to be such a cougar, before barely becoming a woman. Not six years since you buried my brother's corpse and you find yourself some sweet young thing from the wastes. I heard rumors about him. Is it dangerous you go for, after that whole schpeel about Mikkelo being soft, I bet he'd-"

*Slap*

"Is that what think, Muska? That I'm just a harlot that has a thing for younger men? Well, let me tell you something. Josuke has a heart that can only be matched by the size of your ego! He's got something you seem to have lost, class. Did you know his house burned down last night? And that even when I offered him a place to stay, he refused because of 'how it would look.' Did you know he always helps the kids if they have a cut or bruise, and he never says a bad word out of turn…he's…he's… MY MAN!" Coco yelled. "And if you don't like it…well tough."

Coco was breathing hard, her feelings a mix of sadness, irritation…and pride. She hadn't wanted to talk to Muska like this. Had wanted this meeting to be much more pleasant, but she was happy she had defended Josuke, and herself.

God I feel good!

Muska's stare was icy cold. He looked as if he didn't know how to process what had just transpired, but also like he had just been slapped in the face, in fact, he had been.

"See yourself out, Muska," Coco stated coldly with a pinch of sadness. With any luck, they'd be able to meet each other before Muska returned to FranSan City and clear their dirty laundry, but right now, Coco was too livid to care.

"No." He replied in sternly.

"Excuse me?! Muska, don't make this any-"

"No, you don't get to talk to me like that, not anymore. I'm a recognized Capo of the Straymos Family! No one talks to me like that! I came all this way, back for you. Clearly, the air here has polluted your mind if you don't understand how I'm right and you're wrong!"

Coco's blood froze as she saw him draw a revolver from behind his back.

"Don't worry, I'd never use this on you, never you. Them on the other hand…"

Almost as if on cue a white van pulled up to the school building, close enough for Coco to spot its door open from her window, revealing the tied and gagged forms of several of her students.

"Wh-What...The..the mean. What are…Muska…you." Coco could barely form words as the world around her began to spin. Try as she might, she could hardly keep her eyes open, something had happened.

The pastries! She thought desperately as she looked toward the box Muska had brought.

"Ah, ever the smart one. That's why you're the teacher. Amazing what the right jenny in the right hands can get you. I'm more surprised they stayed fresh as long as they did, to be honest. Yessir, that should have you out for an hour or two….you probably can't even understand me right now."

He wasn't wrong. Darkness began to swallow Coco's vision try as she might to stay awake to save her kids. But it was no use as she desperately fought the effects of the drug. Coco's last vestiges of consciousness slipped away. Her final thoughts were a desperate plea.

Josuke. Help me!

Josuke strained his arms as he finished his final few reps. More than a few new people who used the makeshift outdoor gym gawked as Josuke lowered the thick 10,000-pound girder. It honestly wasn't the most he could lift, but the Gym often had a hard time procuring, much less keeping, anything heavier. With [Crazy Diamond], who knew what the upper limits of his strength could be. But Josuke wasn't here to work out, he was just killing time.

Nothing had really come from his earlier episode outside Horso's bar. Josuke had calmed anyone who had shown him concern and quickly made his way to his burned heap of a home. When he had initially gotten to the shop the previous night, nearby residents had already begun the process of bringing the building down on itself, rather than risk the fire spreading. Knowing he'd be able to restore most of the damage with his stand, Josuke had helped before Coco had arrived as word spread.

Oh sure, she had offered him a place to stay, but what would people have thought if he spent even more time with the Abelnites. No, Horso's place would do, and it wasn't like Josuke would be out of a home for long anyway.

It had taken Josuke all of fifteen minutes to restore the building's foundations and base structure, making it nearly livable again. Anything made from steel or metal had been easily repairable, but his counter, bedframe, and roof had been made out of wood and had burnt to ash before he had even gotten to the fire.

Which brought Josuke to Jon's Junkelgym. A wide stake of land run by Jon Gor. An eccentric man who used a wide array of questionable…tools, as gym equipment, while at the same time running a side hustle of selling anything of value he could dig up. That was why Josuke was here, he was waiting for any word on thin aluminum sheets he might use as roofing.

"Still nothing?" Josuke asked as he made his way to Jon who offered him a towel.

"Ma boys found three sheets that are usable, you'll need at least ten, iffin you wanna make a proper roof. We might be able to find you something in the next, oh…two days…maybe."

That hadn't been what Josuke wanted to hear, but there was little he could do about it, as he nodded his head in understanding.

"About payment…"

"No no no, I won't hear of it, Joe," Jon said as he twirled his thick handlebar mustache. "You've been too kind for too long. You'll accept this on the house, or…I'll burn yer house down. Bwahaha! Just make sure you scratch my back one day, ya'hear!"

Ever bashful, Josuke didn't know how to handle such raw kindness but didn't complain, having known Jon long enough to know better than to argue with the man.

"Who're those guys?" Jon said, looking past Josuke.

Josuke turned around, to see that off the beaten road, a rundown dune buggy had parked a yard away from the gym. Three well-dressed men exited from the vehicle as they pointed at, then made their way toward his person.

"Y-Ya think they're here for m-me?" Jon asked, voice shaking.

"No" Josuke simply replied.

They were clearly mafia and brandished their weapons in the neurotic way people did when they were in unfamiliar territory. More than one gym goer had made a show of swinging something, anything, hard long, and blunt they could get their hands on as the suits passed by. These people weren't welcome, and they knew it.

"Are you, Joe Fix?" their small rat-faced leader asked.

"Who wants to know?"

"Y-You! I'm the assistant to the right hand of the Straymos family's 5th Capo. You'll speak to me with respect if you want to live!"

"You'll hurry this up if you don't want a broken nose, you weasel-faced freak."

"You've a lot of nerve for someone who recently became homeless, Mr. Fix!"

Josuke sent a cool glare at mafioso, who quickly caught on that he was in danger. Snapping his fingers, one of the hooligans behind the assistant quickly handed him a briefcase, before opening it with a sinister grin. What was revealed, stunned the entire gym, and made Josuke's blood run cold. In the briefcase was a bloody hairband, and a small lock of azalean hair, Sen's hair.

"Hehehehehe. You understand now, Mr. Fix. You're not in control, we ar-"

*Crunch*

Josuke threw a Hamon charged fist into the man's jaw, shattering his face, before grabbing his body and slamming it into the ground, [Crazy Diamond] procuring the briefcase before it fell to the ground. The henchmen, panicking, began to unload their pistols at Josuke who ignored the bullets as his Stand lazily blocked each projectile.

As their chambers emptied, they panicked as the Gym members, many with toned bodies and miscellanies maces surrounded and proceeded to beat them.

"J-Josuke!" Jon yelled. "Did we get that right? Did these people really kidnap Sen?!"

"Yeah, they're that crazy! But they made a huge mistake bringing this to me." Josuke said clutching the case.

"You'll never find her." One of the bruised henchmen said beaten from the ground. "We came to bring you to your death, you idiot. If you don't come with us in exchange for the girl, we'll kill her!"

Josuke kicked the man, knocking him unconscious.

"J-Joe! What are you doing? How will we find Sen if you kill 'em?" Jon exclaimed.

Josuke kneeled to heal all three unconscious men from their injuries.

"Bring them to the Elder. See if you can get any answers out of them. Find out what's going on. While you're doing that, I'll go after Sen."

"But Josuke, how will-"

"You leave that to me!" Josuke cut off as he began to run to the dune buggy, briefcase in hand. As he sat in and started the vehicle, Josuke opened the case and took out the lock of hair before using a slightly weaker variation of his restoring powers, keeping the now floating hair just in reach so that he could track it as it led him to Coco's sister.

Wait for me, Sen! Please please be safe!

Please like, read, and review.

Welp, my final semester has officially started. Expect slower updates...As always, I usually run this through word, then Grammarly (free). I can only read this 3 or 4 times before I go crazy, so if you see anything misspelled, let me know. Otherwise, leave a review if you like where the story is going. Should be maybe 2 more chapters before Josuke goes off on his journey. But how will things end in Meteor city I wonder?