Archive of Our Own ^beta

A number two pencil balanced between Okuyasu’s nose and upper lip, and he absentmindedly moved it side to side as he waited for the morning announcements. He hadn't been at Budogaoka High School for more than a week, yet he already felt a thousand times more settled than he thought he would. That probably had everything to do with Josuke, but he did actually enjoy learning, which he didn't get much opportunity to do in the past.

The other kids in his class didn't really talk to him. He figured it was his scary appearance that kept them at a distance. He wished Josuke or Koichi were in the same class as him, but then again he probably wouldn’t get any work done if they were.

Off to his right a couple girls whose names he didn't know yet were bickering about something under their breath. Well, mostly under their breath. They were definitely louder than they thought they were. With not much else to do, Okuyasu listened to what he could of their conversation.

“... probably from a street fight.” One of them said.

“What? I think it was probably his…” The other responded, her voice getting lower at the end.

“Pfft, no way.” Said the first girl. Okuyasu’s attention was being drawn more seriously to the chit chat as he wondered what they could possibly be talking about that involved street fights. Thinking they would be paying him no mind, he turned his head to look at them in an effort to understand them better. As soon as he did, he locked eyes with both of them.

The girls turned away in perfect sync as if they'd been caught in some nefarious act. He dropped the pencil from his face just as hastily, ears turning a little red. “Uh, were you talkin’ bout me?” He asked them outright.

Girl Two whipped her head back around with a flabbergasted expression, like she couldn't fathom that he was speaking to her. “N-No!” She practically yelped. She was pretty cute, actually. He liked her ponytail.

“Yeah, she was, actually! She wants to know where you got your face scars!” Girl One said with a suddenly devious smile. She was cute, too, but her hair was short like a guy’s. He didn't think girls could cut their hair that short. It looked pretty cool. Wait, what did she say?

“No, I wasn't! I mean I don’t! Shut up, Hina!” Girl Two snapped back.

“My scars?” He repeated back to Hina, aka Girl One, after his brain caught up with him. Shit, what was he supposed to say, though? He couldn't tell them the truth. He had to make himself seem cool in front of the cute girls! “Er- yeah, it was a street fight!” He blurted out with a cocky smile. “I beat the shit outta the other guy, though!”

Hina simply raised an eyebrow in response, and Girl Two, whose name he still didn't know, looked at him like he was holding her at gunpoint.

Blew it.

_________________________________________

Okuyasu gripped the magazine scrap tightly between his middle and index fingers, his eyes traveling back and forth between that and the shelf of spices in front of him. He sounded out the name for what must have been the fiftieth time. “Or-eh-gah-no…”

He scanned the shelf again, wondering why the hell he couldn't find it. He was starting to doubt they even carried the spice at Kameyu, but they had everything there! They even had shoes that fit his dad's weirdly shaped feet!

Okuyasu let out a frustrated grumble as his dream of cooking a nice meal for himself started to feel pointless. If he couldn't even find the first ingredient he needed, would he be able to find any of them? What the hell was an eggplant?

“Nijimura!” A familiar voice suddenly called out to him. He quickly turned to see Mr. Trussardi’s wide smile as he approached. “I didn't expect to run into you outside of my restaurant. Students have very busy lives.”

“Oh, uh, it's Sunday though.” He said matter-of-factly.

Tonio raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment before continuing. “That's right! It is Sunday!” He said. He suddenly let out a boisterous laugh, though Okuyasu wasn't sure what was funny. “Still,” he stopped laughing all at once, his face becoming a portrait of neutrality, “I'm surprised that you are food shopping and not ‘goofing off’ with your friend.”

“Well, I was just tryna find, uh, nevermind.” He shook his head, moving to stuff the magazine clipping into his pocket. With shockingly fast reflexes, Tonio suddenly grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled it towards him. Okuyasu let out a startled noise of protest.

“My goodness! Are you planning on making this dish?” Tonio asked with uninhibited delight.

Okuyasu felt his face start to burn as he was questioned by the professional chef who he very much looked up to in that department. Sure, Mr. Trussardi was a very strange guy, but he was also really kind. He considered brushing it off by simply calling himself a delivery boy; maybe telling him his dad would be the one cooking since Tonio hadn’t actually met him yet. However, confronted with the other man’s eager smile, he decided it wouldn't hurt to be honest. “Er- yeah. I haven't really cooked anything before, though. To be honest, I got no clue where to find half this shit.” He said.

“If you watch your language, I’ll gladly help you find what you need.” Tonio said. Okuyasu sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and muttered an apology, which seemed to satisfy him. “Right, what are you looking for first?”

“Uh, this one.” Okuyasu pointed to where ‘oregano’ was listed, written out in Japanese characters. “I been lookin’ at this spice rack for, like, ten minutes!”

Tonio let out a small chuckle. “That's because it's an herb, not a spice. It should be on this rack over here.” He said, guiding him to the correct section.

“Pssh, that's fu- sorry- that's freakin’ stupid.” Okuyasu said with a pout. “They're the same thing!”

“Macché, Nijimura! They are very different indeed! Please, allow me to explain…” Tonio proceeded to do just that, and it inevitably spiraled into him going on tangents about every single ingredient they sought out.

By the time they finally reached the checkout line, the two of them had extensively discussed Italian cooking, and had moved on to talking specifically about Tonio’s restaurant. “I'm happy to say that business has been steady since my arrival, though I'm always seeking self-improvement.” Tonio said. After a quick glance around the store, he quietly summoned one of his Stands in the palm of his hand. It was a freaky-looking little thing, but Okuyasu was still fond of the miracle workers. “I'm hoping that, one day, Pearl Jam will be able to heal scars, and even regenerate limbs.”

Okuyasu thought about that for a moment, his hand subconsciously moving to touch his face. “Scars, huh?” He felt the coarse lines and wondered what he'd look like without them. Well, he still wouldn't be as good-looking as Josuke, he thought.

“Nijimura, if you don't mind me asking, what are those from, exactly? Insight such as that could be a great help in developing a dish that might erase them.” Tonio said with no ill intent. Okuyasu, however, instantly felt a pit form in his stomach.

“Well, I'm not really lookin’ to get rid of ‘em.” He hastily clarified.

“Oh, why’s that?” Tonio asked.

“They're from…” He needed only a couple seconds to land on what he felt was the perfect lie. “... my cat. Uh, he's dead, so. Something to remember him by.”

“Your cat?” Tonio repeated the words back to him, as if to emphasize how ridiculous it sounded. Okuyasu simply doubled down.

“He was a real asshole. But, I was kinda askin’ for it. A-Anyway, it was nice of ya to help. I'll tell ya how it turns out! Bye!” He grabbed his groceries and his change from the poor confused cashier who he'd barely acknowledged, and promptly speed-walked out of the store.

Despite the horrendously awkward exit, he smiled when he thought he might finally have a normal hobby, and someone to share it with.

_________________________________________

“I got it!” Okuyasu shouted across the open field of green. His feet propelled him upward, hand outstretched to catch the baseball arcing over his head. He reached out with his left arm, coming up short by about two inches. Of course, if he was any normal person that would mean he'd lost, but he wasn't so easily bested.

The left arm of The Hand materialized to close the distance, catching the baseball in his much less dangerous palm. Okuyasu let out a triumphant shout as his feet touched solid ground again. Across the way, a shout of protest mirrored his.

“That's cheating! No Stands allowed!” Josuke yelled. He made an ‘X’ above his head for emphasis.

“Bullshit! That wasn't a rule!” Okuyasu yelled right back. “The only rule was whoever drops it first has to pay!” He was, of course, referring to the deal they'd made that whoever lost their impromptu game of catch would have to buy lunch that day.

“It was implied!” Josuke argued.

“Yer just mad cause ya know you’re gonna lose!” Taunted Okuyasu as he waved the baseball around. It was a gross old ball they'd found sitting in a bush just a few minutes ago, and they were both so bored they created the game just to have something to do. Josuke did insist on cleaning it with Crazy Diamond first. Turns out it was just covered in dog slobber and mud.

“Fine, if we can use our Stands then I won't hold back!” Josuke shouted one last time. Okuyasu smirked, then reared back to pitch. He borrowed some of The Hand’s strength to send the ball sailing just past his friend, hoping it would be too fast for even Crazy Diamond to catch.

His plans came to fruition when the ball whizzed pass Josuke’s head, and Okuyasu prepared a maniacal laugh. However, before he could get out a single ‘hah’, the baseball took on a shimmering gold aura that he was all too familiar with. Mid-air, the ball slowly screeched to a halt, then reversed direction towards Josuke, who confidently held out his hand.

He could just barely see it from his position, but Okuyasu spotted the red string between Josuke’s fingers. When the ball reached him, it knit itself back together, then dropped into his palm like it was grateful or something.

“Hey!” He shouted indignantly. “You grabbed that when you were cleanin’ the ball, didn't ya? You planned that from the start!”

Josuke turned to him with a deceitfully innocent pout. “What? I wouldn't do that! It just happened to fall out earlier! You're the one who wanted to use your Stand!” He called out. Sneaky bastard, Okuyasu thought.

Without saying another word, Josuke summoned Crazy Diamond’s full form behind him and casually tossed him the ball. Okuyasu's eyes went wide. Sure, he'd used The Hand to give him a boost, but having Crazy Diamond throw it himself? This could be bad. But still, he would not lose!

Crazy Diamond reared back like a professional baseball player, even lifting his leg in the air, and launched the ball with inhuman force in Okuyasu’s direction. Before he could even react, the ball was already past him. “No ya don't!” He exclaimed, summing The Hand to his side. He used his power to erase the air in front of him, pulling him forward in the process. If he could just keep up with it until it slowed down, he could reach it before it hit the ground!

Okuyasu followed the ball a good two-hundred feet before a critical situation made itself known to him. The direction the ball was traveling was directly towards the nearby park. In fact, it was going to collide with something before it had the chance to slow down. Actually, it wasn't going to hit something, it was going to hit someone!

Somehow, the danger pushed The Hand to move faster than Okuyasu realized he could. He swiped a large enough chunk of the space in front of them to close the distance, at least for a second. That was all he needed to stop the ball. The Hand reached out and grabbed hold of it when it was barely a foot away from the back of the person’s head. “Yes, I got-” The ball disappeared from view as The Hand’s right hand erased it from existence. “-it…”

The man in front of him turned as he and his Stand went through the five stages of grief. “Oh, you're Josuke’s friend!” The man said. “Let's see… Namemura, was it?” Okuyasu’s attention was successfully diverted away from his failure, and he realized who he just saved from a blow to the head.

“Uh, it's Nijimura, Mr. Joestar. Nijimura Okuyasu.” He said.

“That's right! I guess my memory still isn't quite what it used to be.” Joseph said pensively. The baby nestled in his arms babbled in response. Okuyasu and The Hand moved to look at her simultaneously, both of them smiling.

“Hey! Did you catch it?” Josuke bellowed out from a good distance away. He was running to catch up, since he obviously couldn't teleport. He probably couldn't see what was happening too well, either.

Okuyasu looked again at the baby, then considered what he knew about her Stand. It made things invisible, right? He silently pondered for a few seconds before Joseph spoke up again.

“Are those burns on your face?” He asked out of the blue.

Okuyasu whipped his head back around to give him a bemused look. “'Scuse me?” He said, voice pitching up in confusion.

“Ah, sorry, I just have a friend with very similar scars on his face. His are burns from his Stand. He had a silly accident when he was young and inexperienced. I should invite him to Morioh so he can tell you that story himself. I'm sure he'd like Josuke.” Joseph explained, rocking the baby back and forth as he happily spoke of his friend.

“Okay…” Okuyasu forced himself to smile back and tried not to think about how awkward this was with Josuke. He couldn't help but think of when he'd first met the old man on that boat. That was an ordeal. “Uh, mine aren't burns, though.”

“Really, what are they, then?” Joseph asked, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable he was making the teenager.

“They're, uh, from an accident, like your friend.” He decided on the spot. “The Hand pulls things towards me, sometimes, so he pulled some sharp shit right into my face.” He said. The Hand turned to look at him with a defensive frown. He decided that it was a good time to un-summon him. Sorry, he said internally to his other half.

“Mr. Joestar? What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be with Jotaro?” Josuke questioned as he finally caught up, slightly out of breath.

“Pssh, I'm not so helpless that I need my Grandson to babysit me! Right, little gal?” Joseph said. The baby’s only response was to try eating her own hand.

“But there could be-”

“Good grief. I told you not to wander off.” Jotaro said as he approached the group from down a trail. “What do you think will happen if a Stand user attacks you?”

“Exactly!” Josuke enthusiastically seconded his nephew’s point. The combination of being scolded by two young relatives made Joseph start grumbling angrily to himself.

“You two are even worse! How stupid do you have to be to announce yourselves by using your Stands for a childish game?” Jotaro said.

“But-” Josuke was about to start arguing, but the death glare he received was enough to shut him up. Still, he pouted and started muttering to himself. Okuyasu’s eyes travelled between him and his father, noting the resemblance for the first time.

“Sorry.” Okuyasu said for all three of them. Truthfully he was also avoiding eye contact with Jotaro, who was always pretty intimidating. Also, it was hard to hide anything from Star Platinum’s gaze. He figured that was how he knew about their game of catch.

“Just be more careful.” Jotaro said with a sigh. He put a hand on his grandfather and led him back the way he came.

“Oh, by the way Jotaro, I was thinking we should invite Abdul here sometime soon. I was just telling Nijimura about him.” Joseph said as they were leaving. Okuyasu was glad the old man finally got his name right, even if what he was saying caused Jotaro to give him a weird look. Oh well, maybe he didn't get along with this Abdul guy. That wasn't his problem.

Once the adults were out of sight, the pair of teens turned to look at each other. Josuke leaned in, negating any personal space between them, to whisper. “So, did you catch it?” He asked.

“Well,” Okuyasu made as casual of a face as he could, “I did. But, then when I ran into Mr. Joestar, I gave it to the baby for a second, cause she was makin’ hands like she wanted it. Then she turned it invisible. No clue where it went after that.” He shrugged.

There was a beat of silence, then Josuke’s shoulder collided with his to make him stumble. “You're such a bad liar.” Josuke chided. His tone made Okuyasu think he was really mad for a second, before he turned to see him grinning like an idiot.

He did wonder, though, if Josuke would have seen through the other lie he told that day. And, if he did, would he want the truth?

Could he really tell him what happened?

_________________________________________

“So, can you tell me what happened?” The officer with the stupid looking mustache asked the question. Okuyasu glared at the offending facial hair as his legs swung back and forth over the hospital bed. He thought back to everything Keicho was trying to tell him on the drive over.

“... was a street thug, got it? Someone you've never even met…” He remembered his brother saying. It was a funny-looking memory, though, all painted over in red. “... keep the damn towel over your face! I'm not washing blood out of this rental…”

“Kid, you lost your tongue or something?” The cop asked. He had a notepad resting on his thigh, and he kept twirling his pen around impatiently. It was pissing Okuyasu off like crazy, the way this guy clearly didn't give a shit. But actually, that was perfect.

“Dunno. Some guy I've never seen before just came out an’ stabbed me while I was walkin' home.” He said, careful to follow Keicho’s instructions. “Some fuckin’ psycho.”

The cop tapped his pen against his notebook a few times, shaking his head. “‘Some guy you've never seen before', huh? Sure. You got a description?”

Okuyasu scowled at him, but he regretted it immediately when the expression pulled his stitches. His hand flew up to touch them, instead finding the bandages that wrapped uncomfortably around his head. His cheeks felt numb, probably from whatever medication they gave him.

The cop was still looking at him expectantly, but Okuyasu was at a loss. He couldn't remember what Keicho wanted him to say here. God, why did he always forget the important stuff? His frustration with himself, and with the asshole sitting in front of him, boiled over. “Yeah,” he started, “he had an ugly fuckin’ mustache. Looked just like yours.”

The officer flipped his notebook closed and let out a long sigh. “Look kid, if you don't want to tell me what happened, then it might end up happening again. You want to lose even more of your face?”

Okuyasu bristled. He was never a very good liar. At least, Keicho always knew when he was lying. Always. Of course, Keicho also gave him a mission here, and he wasn't going to stray from it. No matter what. “That is what happened.” He insisted.

The cop simply shook his head in defeat, then pocketed his notebook and pen. “What are you, eleven?”

“Twelve.” Okuyasu said, like it was a big difference.

“Right, well, maybe you should worry more about school, and less about whatever delinquent stuff you're getting caught up in in the middle of the night. Think about how your parents feel.” Said the cop.

Okuyasu rolled his eyes. Yeah, I'm sure my dead mom and my dad who’s a monster are really concerned about what I'm doing he bitterly thought to himself. But, if this guy wanted to believe he got the cuts in some gang fight, that was a good thing. “Can I go now?” He asked.

The officer thought for a moment before peeking his head out of the hospital room. He made a few gestures to some other person Okuyasu couldn't see, then stepped back inside. “Suppose you can.” He said, holding the door open.

Okuyasu wasted no time once he was given the all clear. Any more questions and he thought he might vomit. Why did they have to ask him and not Keicho? His question was answered immediately upon stepping into the hallway when he saw another, less stupid looking cop finish talking to his brother.

“Hey! You okay?” Keicho asked as soon as he saw him. He jogged over with fake concern. Well, Okuyasu didn't know for sure that it was fake. He hoped it wasn't.

“Yeah. I'm good.” He quickly responded. He kept his eyes facing the ground so that he wouldn't have to see his brother's staring down at him.

“Okay, well, let's get you home, yeah?” Keicho put an arm around his shoulders to start guiding him towards the exit. “Thanks for the help, officer. I'll make sure he doesn't sneak out again.” He said as they passed the smarter looking cop. The guy just nodded at them in return. Okuyasu didn't bother giving his own officer a second glance.

When they got to the car– the one that Keicho was renting for himself– Okuyasu silently slid into the passenger seat. Keicho walked around to the driver’s side, saying nothing more until they were pulling out of the parking lot. “Did you say everything I told you to?” He asked with no false sweetness in his voice anymore.

“I think so…” Okuyasu said. He risked a sideways glance to gauge his brother's reaction. It didn't look positive. “I didn't say nothin’ bout you. Or Dad.” He added. Still, no response. “He thinks it was some gang fight or somethin’. I dunno…”

Keicho let out an unsteady sigh, nervously glancing in the rear view mirror for who-knows-what. “It’ll be fine.” He said, though Okuyasu could tell he was talking to himself.

“...Will it?” He asked regardless. “I mean, they won't try to talk to Dad, right?”

“Won't you just shut up and let me handle the rest!?” Keicho suddenly shouted, causing Okuyasu to flinch despite any effort to hide it. “This is your fault, you know! You're lucky I'm here to clean up the mess you caused, Okuyasu!”

“I-I didn't-”

“Just stop! I can't listen to you right now!” Keicho slammed a hand down hard on the steering wheel as he accosted his brother. Okuyasu took the order and sank further into his seat. After that, it was a silent drive back to their house, only interrupted by Keicho’s occasional mumbling.

When the car came to a stop, Okuyasu stayed completely still. He waited for his brother to move first, or say something like ‘go to your room’. It took a few beats, but Keicho did eventually say something to break the heavy silence. “I need you to be better, Okuyasu.” He said. Okuyasu bit the inside of his cheek hard, inevitably pulling on his wounds again. He didn't mind. The pain was a good distraction as his brother continued. “I just do. I can't…” Keicho let his forehead slump onto the wheel.

Okuyasu waited another few moments, unsure if he should respond. He decided that he probably should. “I know. I'm sorry I was bein’... I know it was my fault.” He said in a pathetically small voice.

Keicho turned to look at him- to finally, really look at him- and Okuyasu thought for just a second that he saw something like remorse behind his eyes. Then, he looked away, and spoke with an artificial casualness that Okuyasu still preferred over his authoritative persona. “Y’know, chicks really dig scars. Probably did you a favor.” He said as he exited the car.

When he turned to leave, the side mirror reflected Okuyasu’s face back to him. He couldn't see the cuts, not yet, but the sterile white bandages covering more than half his face were an unsettling sight. A favor, he repeated in his head. Chicks dig scars.

_________________________________________

When the towel fell away from Okuyasu’s face, he was left staring at the dark circles that had formed under his eyes. He tried to remember if he'd ever felt more tired than he was at that moment. Well, there'd been plenty of sleepless nights as a kid, but somehow this was worse.

The potted plant sitting on the bathroom counter chirped beside him. He moved his attention towards it to find it was trying to propel itself towards the sink. It's weird little cat face was scrunched up in frustration. “Oh, right, I guess ya probably like water.” He said, turning the faucet back on and cupping his hands together to transfer some water to his new housemate.

The strange creature made to drink it immediately, but it ended up just spitting the water all over itself. Still, it ended up in the soil, and it seemed pleased by that outcome. “Weird lil guy.” Okuyasu said with a tired smile.

He yawned and stretched his way into the hallway, holding his new pet under one arm. Logically, he shouldn't be bringing the thing that nearly killed him into his house, but it was cute, damn it! Also, he was too exhausted after the day’s events to think of what else to do with it. Him. Her? How did you tell the gender of a plant?

Okuyasu shook his head, deciding it wasn't worth the mental effort right now. As he made his way towards his moderately comfortable bedroom, he had to come to a stumbling halt to avoid crashing right into his father, who suddenly waddled out of a passing room.

“Dad! Watch out, will ya?” Okuyasu exclaimed. The plant was whining at the sudden jerky movement, and the teenager quickly started scratching its… head? Anyway, it seemed to calm it back down some.

Okuyasu’s dad stared up at him with an indiscernible expression, letting out an ugly sort of moan, which was evidently the only kind of sound he ever made anymore. He was holding a paper in his hands, and started glancing between it and his son. He also wasn't moving out of the way.

“Ugh, Dad, I'm tryna go to bed, alright? If ya need somethin’ it's gotta wait til mornin’.” Okuyasu said, the words coming out slurred as he rubbed his face. The bags that had formed under his eyes begged him to keep them shut, but unfortunately he still needed them to reach his bed.

Suddenly, his dad grabbed a hold of the front of his tank top, then turned the paper towards him. Okuyasu’s irritation subsided when his sleepy eyes met the family photo. He reached out to hold it, though he didn't take it from his dad’s hand.

In the photo, Keicho and his parents were both smiling at the camera. Keicho had to be somewhere around four or five when it was taken, and he must have been around two himself. He was the only one not paying attention, more concerned with the toy car in his hands. He wished at that moment that Keicho had just ripped the damn thing from his hands and told him to pay attention. He wished he'd been told to smile. It would've been a nicer photo.

Anyway, his dad clearly just wanted him to look at it. That was nothing new. The photo was something his dad carried with him nearly 24/7 after Josuke put it back together.

Josuke. Josuke is in the hospital. Josuke almost died.

“I know about the damn photo! I've seen it a million times now!” He snapped, feeling incapable of processing any emotion other than annoyance. The sudden elevation in his voice made his dad flinch, and Okuyasu quickly took a step back. A pit formed in his stomach as he was once again reminded of his brother. Damn, how many times could he think about him in one day?

“Dad, I'm sorry.” He said. “I've just had a really long day.” His dad tilted his head up to look at him again, then extended one of his stubby arms expectantly. Okuyasu raised an eyebrow at the gesture, then decided to crouch down to his level. The movement made his head spin a little as his body begged him to go all the way to the floor and conk out for the night, but he kept himself up on one knee.

His dad slowly moved the hand towards his son's face, and Okuyasu had half a mind to pull away. Something about it felt wrong to him, like he was suddenly all too small compared to his father. Before he could, though, his dad’s thumb and forefinger made contact.

Okuyasu’s whole body tensed up at the contact. A remnant of his past told him to flinch away, but he forced himself to ignore it. His dad had not been that man for a long time. At least there was one good thing that came from his transformation.

The lumpy, misshapen fingers of his dad’s hand traced a curved line down his face, and he let out a sound of confusion. Okuyasu watched him hold up the photo, his eyes darting between them. He turned the photo around, then, showing it to him with a fair amount of distress.

Okuyasu wanted to say he wasn't sure what he was upset about, but he did. He knew what he was tracing; what didn't align with his face in the photo. An uneven breath escaped his nose, and he gently moved his dad’s hand away from his scar. “It was just an accident, Dad. It happened a long time ago, remem…ber…?” The words settled in the air around them as Okuyasu really, truly realized what was happening. “You- You recognize me?” He asked.

His dad took another look at the photo, then did his best to nod in affirmation. All at once the day’s events– facing Kira, the bomb that hit his stomach, seeing his brother’s ghost, or whatever the hell that was, facing Kira again, and then Josuke and now this– brought him to his breaking point.

He was proud of himself, earlier, for not crying when his best friend was being wheeled into a fancy hospital room out of his reach. But now, he couldn't stop himself from bursting into tears. Tired arms reached out to grasp his only family left. The cat plant being held in one hand protested the gesture, so he quickly put her on the ground to resume the hug.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed through ugly cries. “Ya really fuckin’ know me? For real?” He leaned back to see another nod from his father, who seemed caught off guard by the affection, but lifted both his stubby arms nonetheless to return the hug. They held each other for at least a minute before Okuyasu pulled away to grossly wipe the tears and snot on the front of his tank top.

When they were face to face again, his dad once again reached for the dual scars cutting down the middle of his face. Okuyasu intercepted it with his own hand and gripped tightly. “Don't worry about that, alright? I'm fine. We're fine.” He said. The hand holding the family photo dropped back down to his side, and Okuyasu caught it one more time out of the corner of his eye.

Keicho was smiling.

_________________________________________

The stars of the late summer sky twinkled above the pair of teens that found themselves a place to rest in the park. The grassy ground beneath them cooled their backs which had long since lost their jackets to the heat. Josuke, who was laying so close to Okuyasu that their elbows were touching, had folded up his jacket to use a makeshift pillow. He said something about not wanting to risk any dirt getting clumped up in his hair. Okuyasu’s coat was hanging on the tree behind them.

“Hey Josuke,” Okuyasu finally spoke up after the two of them had just been silently stargazing for a few minutes, “do ya think Heaven is, like, real? An’ Hell?”

When Okuyasu turned to look at his friend, he watched as the popsicle stick that he'd been chewing on for a good long while rolled out of his open mouth. Josuke stared at him in befuddlement for a few breaths before answering. “Uh, I don't know. I guess I kinda believe it after meeting Reimi.” He said without any confidence.

“Right. I mean, obviously ghosts are real. But, like, where did she go once she left? She was definitely nice enough to go to Heaven, if it’s real.” Okuyasu said, turning to look at the stars again.

He heard Josuke let out a sigh beside him. “Why are you asking about this, all of a sudden? It doesn't really matter if it’s real until we're dead, right?”

“Yeah…” Okuyasu chewed the inside of his cheek. When he felt his elbow gently shoved by the others’, he turned again to look at him. Josuke insistently asked him to spill his thoughts without saying a single word. “I just kinda hope it’s not.” He admitted.

This made Josuke blink a few times, then turn his body so that he was leaning against his hand to focus all his attention on his friend. “Why?” He asked, simple and to the point. He wasn't asking it in any judgmental sense, only with genuine curiosity.

Okuyasu had to gather his thoughts for a moment, disguising the pause by shifting into the same position Josuke had moved to. “I guess ‘cause-” He picked a blade of grass, fiddling with it anxiously. “‘Cause, I don't think Keicho would be up there.”

“Oh.” Josuke responded. His eyes shifted downward, absently watching Okuyasu pick the grass. “You mean you think he went-”

“The other way, yeah.” He interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically monotone.

“Hey.” Josuke wiggled his way a little closer, grabbing the other’s attention. “The last thing he ever did was save your life. Even if they are real, that has to count for something.”

Okuyasu let out a short, humorless laugh at the sentiment. “Yeah well, he also ruined any chance I had at findin' a girlfriend.” He said as he dug a fingernail into the greenery in his hand.

“What do you mean?” Josuke asked.

“I mean my face, duh.” He answered. As he did, he flipped back over onto his back, and flung the blades of grass he had gathered in his right hand somewhere behind their heads. “He told me chicks dig scars, but they don't. Maybe if they weren't so fuckin’ weird lookin’.”

When Okuyasu felt a soft hand on his forearm, he hoped Josuke wouldn't notice the goosebumps it gave him. He turned to look at him as nonchalantly as he could manage, but the look Josuke was giving him made a shiver run through his whole body. Shit, he thought as he realized what he'd just said.

“Keicho did that?” Josuke pressed, his distress written all over his face in a way that was killing the other teen. “I just- I thought they were from a Stand user!”

“T-They were, I guess. I mean, it was before- look it doesn't matter! It was just one example of all the stupid shit he did. Plus that was kinda my fault, too, actually.” Okuyasu breathed carefully in and out, suddenly feeling a little nauseous.

He really thought he might spew chunks when Josuke decided to force them both into an upright sitting position. Before Okuyasu could even complain, Josuke had balled one of his hands up in the front of his shirt and pulled him up to face him directly. “That's bullshit, Okuyasu! There's no way you could blame yourself for something like that!” He yelled, despite being well within earshot.

“Ya don't even know how it happened!” Okuyasu retorted, matching his friend’s volume.

“So tell me!” He demanded. As soon as Okuyasu’s brows started to fold in, Josuke let go of him and crossed his legs, putting both hands in his lap. “If- If you want to, obviously…” He sheepishly added, unconsciously turning away.

Okuyasu's eyes locked in on that goddamn pout that Josuke always pulled at times like this, and he knew it was already a lost cause trying to hide the truth. Him and his stupid pretty face, like a freakin’ girl, he thought with mild irritation.

“Fine! It's a boring ass story anyway.” He said with a defeated huff. Josuke instantly perked up and Okuyasu couldn't help but roll his eyes. Still, he said he would spill already. And, if he was going to finally tell someone, it might as well be him.

“It was when I was, like, eleven.” He started. Immediately, he was given the reaction he was dreading the most when Josuke’s face scrunched up in pitiful horror. “Ya can't look at me like that or I won't tell you!” He snapped.

“I can't just control my face!” Josuke sassed, throwing his hands up in annoyance.

“Then- Then turn around! I ain't gonna watch ya get all snot-nosed over it.” Okuyasu ordered.

Josuke threw his head back with an exaggerated groan, then scooted himself clockwise until he was facing the other way. “You're one to complain about getting snot-nosed.” He teased once he was spun around.

“Shut up, asshole.” He said. Looking at the back of his friend’s head, he decided that would be just as weird, and so he decided to turn as well, pushing his back up against Josuke’s. He felt the other boy wordlessly lean into it, despite the bickering.

With a sigh, Okuyasu continued his story. “I guess… Keicho had been wrapped up in tryin’ to find the bow an’ arrow for a while already. An’ of course he never told me jack shit unless he had to. Didn't trust me not to open my mouth around, well, whoever.”

He waited for Josuke to say something, but he never did. So, he kept going. “We were hold up somewhere in a city– don't remember which one– and he wasn't lettin’ me go anywhere to do anything, even though he wouldn't let me help, neither.”

The memory seemed to fade into view around him as he recalled the events that led up to his worst moment. He watched his hands, small as they were back then, carefully sliding open the dust covered window to his makeshift bedroom. He glanced behind him, making sure the sound did not disturb his brother who had finally fallen asleep an hour or two after midnight.

“I'd been inside all day, an’ I just really wanted to go for a walk. Figured he wouldn't find out if I was quick enough…” He continued, watching his worn out old hand-me-down sneakers trudge down a dilapidated sidewalk. They came to a stop when a neon light shone over them in the darkness. It was the ‘open’ sign of a convenience store on the corner of the street.

“...I saw the place was open, an’ I just sorta wandered in. No real reason, I was just bored as hell. That's when I saw the candy display…” As he spoke, the bright and colorful packaging of all the different sweets options were displayed in front of him. His eyes zeroed in on a bag of konpeito, and he wondered how long it had been since he had some. Why not? He thought to himself. He could hide it under his mattress, and only eat it when Keicho was out of the house.

“...He gave me money, sometimes, like when he wanted me to buy groceries an’ stuff. Course he always checked the receipts and made sure I gave him all the change back, so I didn't have any for the stupid fuckin’ candy…” Sure enough, the pockets of his sweatpants were empty.

He turned and leaned back to see the register past the aisle he was standing in. There was only one clerk so late at night– or early in the morning– and the dude was counting sheep in his chair. Okuyasu looked again at the konpeito. The damn bag was only 150 yen; it was practically begging him to take it!

“...So I did.” He said. His mind returned to the present when he felt the boy at his back take a deep breath in and out. He thought he might interrupt, but he otherwise stayed silent. “It was a stupid fuckin’ idea, but I didn't give a shit.” Okuyasu carried on. “I jogged home just to make sure I'd have enough time to hide it...”

It hit him again, then, the memory of climbing through that window. Then, the look on Keicho’s face when he finally noticed he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “... Even Kira didn't make me wanna piss myself like he did.” He said, almost laughing at the bizarreness of it. “I ain't never wanted to erase somethin’ so bad in my life as I did that konpeito, but I ain't even have The Hand yet, so I was just screwed…”

Keicho stood up, and he was already screaming. Okuyasu couldn't even remember what he said; not like it mattered much. “...I was too damn stupid to keep my mouth shut, an’ it was basically over at that point. We were both freakin’ out an’ then so was my Dad, makin’ all kinds of noise. After a minute, Keicho went an’ grabbed his pocket knife an’-” His throat suddenly seized as he was just about to finish the story, and he hastily coughed to disguise the stutter. “So yeah.” He said once he was confident he could speak again. “My fault-”

“-It wasn't.” Josuke said, not allowing for a single second of pause before he did. “It wasn't your fault.”

Crying was a pretty uncool thing to do, Okuyasu thought. Of course, that didn't mean he could ever really stop it from happening, not like other guys could. The tears were streaming down his face, following the established lines of his scars.

After a sniffle gave him away, he felt the boy behind him turn around. Okuyasu hurriedly wiped his face on his arm before realizing there was no jacket sleeve to soak up the tears. Now his arm was just uncomfortably wet. “Sorry,” he said, “must be allergies or somethin’.”

“Yeah, probably allergies.” Josuke agreed. When Okuyasu looked up at him, he saw his eyes were red, too.

“Fuck. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told ya none of that. Not like it matters anymore.” He said.

“It does matter, dude. That's really fucked up.” Josuke said, scooching over to sit beside him again. “And, about what you were saying before, if we all end up in the same place, and it doesn't matter what you did when you were alive, I'm gonna find your brother and kick his ass all over again. That's a promise.”

Okuyasu burst into laughter, relieved to finally feel the tension break. “I think I'd like to see that, so ya better not go dyin’ before me, ya hear?” He said, giving the other boy a light tap on his chest.

“Screw that! If you die before me, I'll track you down and beat the shit out of you, too!” Josuke retorted, shoving his friend to the side. Okuyasu nearly lost his balance before he caught himself.

“Damn, guess we'll just have to die at the same time.” He said. “I mean I ain't gonna get a girlfriend, anyway, so I ain't gotta make that promise a second time.”

“Yeah, haha.” Josuke chuckled in agreement, which might have shattered Okuyasu’s heart into a million pieces if he didn't immediately correct himself. “I mean no! No, you'll definitely get one! I mean, like, you're so ho- uh- you're cool! You look cool, I mean!” He said, suddenly much louder and faster with his speech.

“Ya think so?” Okuyasu asked, somehow oblivious to the pink flush steadily creeping across his friend’s features. It was still pretty hot out, to be fair. It could be attributed to that.

“Yeah! Sorry, yeah. I mean, I-” Josuke’s bottom lip found its way between his teeth for him to nervously chew on. “I think your scars look pretty, uh, badass. Not that that makes it okay!” He hastily added, waving his hands for emphasis. “I'm still gonna kick his ghost’s ass for it!”

Okuyasu smiled, though a small part of him still didn't feel completely back to normal quite yet. “Man,” he leaned back, over-exaggerating his groan to keep the mood light, “I wish girls were more like guys.”

Okuyasu bent his head back, so he could no longer see what kind of face Josuke was making in front of him. “Yeah.” He said from out of view. “Me too.”