Stranger in Morioh @antirepurp
Thus Rohan Kishibe Had a Terrible Day

Rohan Kishibe was not having a great day.

He had gotten no helpful photos at the train station. Nearly got himself killed over a game of Janken. Janken. Unbelievable. This was followed by almost getting run over by a truck. And to make matters worse, he came dangerously close to losing the weird invisible stand baby that Mr. Joestar carried around everywhere he went, and had to spend the better half of his afternoon looking for the abomination child to avoid Josuke beating the shit of him, again. Everything that could’ve gone wrong had done so, aggressively and agonizingly. The only thing missing was his house burning down somehow, as a cherry on top.

Rohan walked into St. Gentleman’s, hoping to find one of their delicious bagels to soothe his soul. They were sold out. Rohan left the bakery even more agitated than before. If Deux Magots had happened to close an hour earlier today than usual he was going to lose it. Rohan made a mental note to take the next day fully to himself: get the next issue of his manga done before midday, read one of his favorite books, take a long bath. Avoid Josuke and his annoying friends at all costs. Except Koichi, should he stop by for any reason.

He turned the corner and arrived to the cafe, but stopped on his tracks immediately. Jotaro was sitting at one of the tables just outside Deux Magots, and he had company. Someone Rohan hadn’t seen before. The mangaka raised an eyebrow, and approached the table. His curiosity was piqued, as was his envy towards some stranger being able to sit with Jotaro so disgustingly casually.

“Oh, Jotaro, how lovely to see you!” Rohan greeted the man, putting on his people voice and social face. Jotaro and his associate turned to look at Rohan, allowing him to get a proper look at the stranger’s face. Hm. Red hair with an odd, curly bang, glasses, vertical scars over his eyes. An unassuming outfit for the most part, the most exciting element of it was perhaps the leather jacket with rolled up sleeves. Well, and maybe the sneakers. Their laces were untied. Rohan’s mind started to race at the ideas he was starting to have of this man, his past, and relationship to Jotaro. How much raw reading material was sitting right in front of his eyes...

He hoped his gaze didn’t come off as too hungry.

Rohan noticed Jotaro looking at him firmly. There was no apparent hostility in his eyes, but Rohan felt a bit uncomfortable regardless. He had to play his cards right - a pissed off Jotaro was the last thing his day needed right now.

“Kishibe,” Jotaro tipped his hat somewhat reluctantly. Good, the waters were still clear.

“What a coincidence to see you here,” Rohan went on. “I just came over for some afternoon tea too, actually. Mind if I sit with you?”

Jotaro raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the other man.

“Another friend of yours, Jotaro?” the redhead asked. Jotaro looked over to him, and then back to Rohan.

“You could say that,” he said, his voice vaguely icy. “Fine, sit with us if it makes you happy.”

Oh, it certainly did. Rohan pulled a chair from the other table and seated himself. The stranger eyed him curiously with what to Rohan seemed like glimmering, excited eyes. It was puzzling, and bothered Rohan immensely. He was excellent at reading people’s expressions, after all he spent a lot of his precious time studying people’s emotions just to replicate them as well as he could in his art. But this man... His motivations were wrapped in an enigma. How unnerving.

Rohan’s urge to smack him with Heaven’s Door to satisfy his curiosity grew stronger.

The stranger shifted his gaze from Rohan over to Jotaro.

“You’re not going to introduce us?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Jotaro sighed and muttered a ‘yare yare,’ as if introducing Rohan to a new person was somehow the most grueling task you could’ve asked of him.

“Kishibe, this is Noriaki Kakyoin. Kakyoin, this is Rohan Kishibe.”

“Not the Rohan Kishibe? Of Pink Dark Boy?” Noriaki asked. Rohan’s eyes lit up.

“Why, yes, I am that Rohan Kishibe,” he smiled. “You know of my work?”

“It passes time,” Noriaki replied nonchalantly. “Not my go-to per say, but it sticks out from the crowd.”

Rohan wasn’t sure if he had just been complimented or not. This was going to bug him the whole evening, wasn’t it.

The waitress came, took Rohan’s order of a bagel and a tea, and went on her merry way. A shine sparked in Rohan’s hungry eyes. It was time to act.

“So, Noriaki,” the mangaka spoke, his use of the man’s first name alerting Jotaro somewhat and making him look up from the papers he was reading. “What brings you to Morioh? I hadn’t heard Jotaro had many friends.”

Noriaki chuckled.

“Oh, just here to help with some business is all,” he replied with a smile. His eyes then shot over to Jotaro, who simply nodded.

“Business?” Rohan asked.

“I heard you have a bit of a serial killer problem,” Noriaki said. “So the Speedwagon Foundation sent me here to back you up.”

It took every ounce of Rohan’s self-control to not let his excitement show. This man had to be a stand user, why else would he be associated with the Speedwagon Foundation and act so casually in Jotaro’s presence? That should make things a whole lot easier.

“Oh, so you are perhaps... a stand user?” Rohan asked. Noriaki nodded.

“I take it you’re one as well?”

“Yes, in fact I am!” Rohan smiled. He watched Noriaki’s eyes light up in excitement again, shining through his otherwise calm and casual expression. So he had been curious about whether Rohan had a stand. How interesting! And perhaps this meant...

“I apologize if this a rude thing to ask, but would you like me to demonstrate how my stand works? It’s not malicious in any way, I assure you, it simply-”

Jotaro aggressively put down his papers, the rustling attracting both Rohan’s and Noriaki’s attention. His gaze was piercing through Rohan. What power he emitted. Rohan desperately wished he could’ve sketched down this raw emotion, but he felt like Jotaro wouldn’t have taken it so well right now.

“Stay in your lane, Kishibe,” he almost growled, barely keeping his composition. Rohan had sort of forgotten how much Jotaro disliked Heaven’s Door’s ability. He held up his hands, hoping to calm the man down. Noriaki raised an eyebrow and looked over to Rohan.

“So, what exactly does your stand do?” he asked, sipping his coffee. Rohan tried to relax and assume the role of a socialite again.

“Oh, it only allows me to read people,” he said, trying to downplay Heaven’s Door to his best abilities. “It doesn’t hurt at all, might look a bit strange, but it isn’t dangerous.”

“Until you start writing shit into people,” Jotaro commented. “And pry on their private lives.”

Rohan felt offended by the accusation, no matter how true it may have been.

“W-well, yes, I can write additions to people, sure,” he admitted. “But only as a safety measure! You know I don’t use it in vain, Jotaro.”

“Sure,” the man dismissed the explanation, and took a sip of his coffee. “I’m sure once Shizuka learns how to speak she’ll agree with that.”

Rohan felt his eyelid twitch. As if Jotaro knew what kind of shit Rohan had had to endure earlier! How did he even know about the whole episode with the baby?!

Noriaki wasn’t in the same boat, however. At least, Rohan didn’t think he was. His eyes still shone with a curious excitement as he analyzed Rohan.

“I guess a stand like that isn’t much of a fighter,” Noriaki finally said, and shook his head. “Shame.”

“How so?” Rohan was quick to ask, feeling a familiar sense of offense loom behind him. Noriaki looked at him from the corner of his eye, his mouth turned to a strange smile.

“I believe the fastest way to figure out a stand is to fight it,” Noriaki said. “I would’ve requested a spar, but I don’t see how it’d be very interesting...”

Rohan couldn’t explain it, but he felt viciously insulted by the comment. Sure, Heaven’s Door wasn’t exactly a fighting-oriented stand, but it was one of the most powerful ones in all of Morioh. Hell, if Rohan could’ve gotten close enough to Jotaro he could’ve easily made the man into his puppet. Hypothetically. Rohan was a bit too concerned about ruining his reputation in Jotaro’s eyes and getting his teeth smashed to a million pieces to try this in practice.

But even more importantly, Rohan wanted to read about Noriaki’s life with the desperation of a rabid dog. And a fight - or a spar, whatever - would give him a beautiful opportunity to do so.

“Oh, you do not need to worry about that,” Rohan said out loud. “I can promise you a thrilling competition should we fight some.”

Noriaki looked at him curiously. Jotaro in turn looked at Noriaki curiously.

“Kakyoin,” he said, his voice sharp and tinted in what to Rohan sounded like a shade of worry (though it couldn’t possibly have been that.) Noriaki simply laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been itching for some action, anyway,” he assured the other man. “And should there be foul play, I can count on you to deliver some judgement, right?”

Jotaro had a curious look on his face. For a moment Rohan felt threatened, like Jotaro was considering the opportunity to kick him to next Wednesday and have it be completely justified. But of course, Jotaro was far too mature and intelligent for such vulgar ideas... right?

Jotaro pulled down his hat, shaking his head and muttering another ‘yare yare.’ Noriaki clearly took this as a sign of approval, and got up from his chair.

“Well then,” he spoke. “We should probably wrap this up before your order arrives. Wouldn’t want to shock any unsuspecting bystanders too much, no?”

He had such a strange smile on his face. It almost sent a chill down Rohan’s spine. Almost.

Rohan got up as well, and the two men walked some distance away from the cafe. They positioned themselves along the quiet road, keeping a good few meters between each other. It was then that Rohan realized he had no idea what kind of stand he was about to face. Bah, not that it mattered. Once he’d get close enough Heaven’s Door would reveal anything to him without delay.

“Are you ready?” Noriaki asked.

“Ready as ever,” Rohan replied.

The expression Noriaki wore twisted immediately.

Rohan took a dash at the man - the faster he could lock him the better. But Noriaki had other plans. His stand appeared, and for the brief moment it was in Rohan’s vision he could see its green coloration, and the many coils it was formed of. The stand shot out one of its tendrils, grabbing a street lamp and throwing Noriaki into the air. Rohan’s dash came to a halt as he turned to face the man in midair, whose stand had manifested behind him.

“Emerald Splash!” he yelled out, pointing at Rohan, and sure enough his stand shot a number of sharp, green gemstones at the mangaka. Rohan threw himself out of their way just in time, scraping his knees as he slid on the concrete. Great, now he’d have to get himself a new pair of pants as well. Just what his day needed.

The situation in general didn’t seem to be in Rohan’s favor. Noriaki’s stand was a long-range type, and a powerful one at that. That said, it seemed fairly simple so far. It had some tendrils and reach, sure, but it would be entirely shut down by a Safety Lock. Rohan just had to get close enough to activate it. But how...?

“I’m guessing your stand doesn’t have much range,” Noriaki said, having finally landed and standing out of Rohan’s reach, his posture composed and menacing. His stand loomed next to him, its appearance unsettling as ever. It had taken a somewhat humanoid form, possessing what looked like a person’s upper torso, but its tendrils sort of bled out of its lower body, combining into a large green limb that might’ve been pulsating a little. Rohan couldn’t even begin to hide his fascination as he pulled himself off the ground.

“My stand is called Hierophant Green,” Noriaki explained. “Its range is considered impressive, and is the specific reason I was asked to come here. I doubt you’re able to match it.”

“How extraordinary,” Rohan replied, sincere curiosity in his voice for once. “I don’t think I’ve seen long-range stands other than Echoes, not in direct action anyway.”

Noriaki smirked.

“You have a lot to learn,” he said with a smile. The words made Rohan uncomfortable, and he couldn’t begin understand why. It somehow sounded different from the usual trash talk enemy stand users spewed out of their mouths. Then again, Noriaki wasn’t an enemy. And Rohan was rather glad about that, honestly.

But enemy or not, Rohan’s burning need to study the man’s life down to its most insignificant details hadn’t subsided, and it was largely consuming any other emotions he may have been feeling. He was going to read this book, whatever it took.

He took another dash at Noriaki, attempting to get close again. Noriaki wasn’t having any of it. He quickly dodged Rohan’s lunge, leaving behind one of Hierophant Green’s tendrils that tripped Rohan over. He smacked his face against the concrete, feeling the rubble dig into his skin and scrape his hands. Horrendous, but at least it went along with what he had planned.

There were pigeons right within Rohan’s reach. He wasted no time, using Heaven’s Door to grab one of them, quickly writing instructions in it, and throwing it directly at Noriaki. The man tried to block the bird with his arms, but it kept fluttering right back into his face, distracting him greatly.

‘I will harass Noriaki Kakyoin until Rohan Kishibe can lock him.’ What a neat little sentence.

Rohan dashed over once more and grabbed Noriaki’s arm.

“Heaven’s Door!” he yelled, and with ease his stand folded Noriaki’s forearm into a book. And with a few quick flicks of his pen, Noriaki was no longer able to attack him. The pigeon finally flew off, and Noriaki pushed Rohan aside, staring at his own arm. He stood still for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed with his firm gaze, before carefully taking hold of one page. He turned it, seeing the writing on it, rightfully disturbed by the sight. He also saw the command preventing him from attacking Rohan. The mangaka chuckled to himself.

“Well well, the tables have certainly turned,” he said, confident in his victory.

Noriaki locked his eyes with Rohan’s. They were still determined, defiant, and though his face lacked much of a feeling his vague expression had the wicked twist in it - maybe even more so than before. Rohan’s brows furrowed. What was Noriaki thinking he could do? His attacks would no longer have any effect on Rohan.

That’s when he felt it. Something was moving around in his... his ear...?

Understandable panic spread over Rohan’s entire being, and he struggled to not show it. Something was crawling into his body, down his ear and into his nose, his throat, crawling up inside of him... what the fuck. What the FUCK.

Within seconds an overwhelming, sick feeling spread over Rohan’s body. He could no longer stand up, and fell onto his knees, his whole body shaking, cold sweat running down his face and arms. What was this sensation?!

All the while Noriaki stood in front of him, his face still devoid of much emotion.

“If there’s something I’ve learned over the years, it’s to never underestimate your opponents,” Noriaki spoke. “They will always have a trump card you were never expecting, and they won’t hesitate to reveal it if you push them far enough.”

He squatted down, watching Rohan with such condescension that the mangaka wanted nothing more than to punch his face in. But even if he hadn’t felt like he was experiencing the most feverish hangover of the century, his own body refused to listen to him. Noriaki smiled.

“My Hierophant has a little secret only a few know about,” he said. “With its coils, it can easily slide into someone’s body, and take it over, turning it into its own little cozy home.”

Rohan had never felt so sick, so afraid, so... insulted.

“But of course it doesn’t stop there,” Noriaki went on, gently taking Rohan’s chin into his hand and forcing him to look at him. “If it were to be removed by force, why, it might just rip its brand new home apart. It isn’t terribly fond of open spaces, you see.”


“Don’t worry, kiddo, I won’t harm you,” he chuckled, though only for a moment. His face took a deeply serious turn immediately afterwards.

“That is, if you promise to erase the shit you wrote in my arm just now.”

Rohan was barely able to nod. Fuck, he would’ve been ready to do just about anything to get out of the predicament he had been put in.

Noriaki smiled, and let go of Rohan’s chin. Just as he did, something began to slide up Rohan’s throat.

“Don’t fight it and you’ll be fine,” Noriaki instructed. It didn’t exactly help Rohan’s still highly panicky state to see a green tendril slide out of his mouth, gagging him in the process. After what felt like an eternity of slithering Hierophant Green had exited Rohan’s body, and the man started coughing and gagging violently, feeling absolutely horrendous. All this and he didn’t even get a glimpse of Noriaki’s life!

Speaking of the devil, Noriaki offered Rohan his hand to help him off the ground. But Rohan had had plenty enough of friendly social facades for one day. He smacked Noriaki’s hand away and stood up, still shaking all over. Noriaki held out his arm to him, looking at him expectantly.

“Get to it,” he said. Rohan gave him a vicious look that didn’t really do anything to shake up the man, and turned to the pages on Noriaki’s arm, looking for his Safety Lock. He took the opportunity to glance over at least something, so all of his efforts wouldn’t go to waste. Let’s see here. Noriaki was a born stand user (which explained a lot), and had traveled to Egypt on a few occasions. Had known Jotaro since his teens. His favorite fruits were cherries. He was-

Rohan raised an eyebrow.

“Hey,” Noriaki snapped him out of it, and Rohan quickly erased his lock and closed Noriaki’s arm, the pages melting back into skin and flesh. The latter looked over to the table.

“Your tea’s arrived,” he said. Rohan glanced over as well, catching a glimpse of a much too satisfied Jotaro, clearly chuckling under his hat. Rohan’s eyes narrowed as he felt warmth in his cheeks.

“Forget it,” he grumbled, and took out his wallet. “Here’s 1000 yen, cover my bill for me and keep the change.”

“What, leaving so soon?” Noriaki smirked.

“Yes,” Rohan gritted his teeth. “It was nice meeting you, Noriaki Kakyoin.”

“Likewise, Rohan Kishibe.”

Rohan turned around and started heading towards home, while Noriaki rejoined Jotaro. He would likely drink Rohan’s tea as well, and eat the bagel he had been looking forward to less than 10 minutes ago. But there was no way Rohan would be able to eat anything after vomiting up a stand. The day had certainly found a way to get worse in ways he had never been expecting.

At least Rohan didn’t leave entirely empty-handed. He pondered over the information he had read from Noriaki’s arm.

‘I would kill for Jotaro Kujo.’

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