Evening settled over Morioh. Back home, Koichi Hirose sat at his desk doing homework—or pretending to. His mind wasn't on the assignment at all. He was dying to taste the pork cutlet rice his mother had been lovingly preparing downstairs. Just the scent of frying oil drifting up from the kitchen was enough to push his self-control to the breaking point.
"Koichi!"
"What is it, Mom?"
His mother called from downstairs, her voice tinged with urgency, as though something had come up that she couldn't deal with on her own. Koichi reflexively stood, hurrying down the stairs out of sheer habit.
"Someone's knocking. Go see who it is."
"Eh... Where's my sister?"
"She came home and went straight to sleep. Go answer the door—if it's a newspaper salesman, just send him away."
"...Okay."
He agreed reluctantly. Koichi was terrible at turning people down. Chances were, if whoever it was appealed to his emotions and talked some sense into him, he'd cave on the spot. His gentle nature had gotten him tricked and bullied more times than he could count.
Koichi Hirose—just an earnest, guileless boy.
He opened the door. Standing before him was a pair he never would have expected.
Josuke Higashikata... and Inori, who'd left that morning and still hadn't returned.
"Josuke? Inori-nee?"
Koichi blinked at the two of them. They looked travel-worn and weary. Coupled with the fact that Jotaro had suddenly whisked Josuke away after school earlier, Koichi could piece together that something serious had happened. He'd also learned about Stand users from Josuke and Jotaro's conversation last night. He couldn't see other people's Stands, not having awakened one himself yet, but he'd watched the entire fight between Josuke and Inori with his own eyes. Their "superpowers" were absolutely real.
"Is Yasuho home?"
Inori flashed him a warm smile, then asked in a gentle voice.
The aroma of dinner wafted from inside the house, and her stomach stirred with fresh cravings.
—I remember Mrs. Hirose mentioning last night that she'd be making her special pork cutlet rice today. Too bad I won't get to have any. Every extra minute I stay at the Hirose house is another minute of danger.
"She's sleeping." Koichi glanced toward the staircase, then cast a questioning look at Josuke behind Inori. Josuke's expression was oddly stiff. "Josuke, didn't you leave with Mr. Jotaro?"
"Something came up, Koichi... We ran into a really dangerous Stand user."
Josuke sighed.
Koichi thought it was strange—the normally upbeat, carefree Josuke looked completely deflated, like someone who'd just had his wallet stolen.
"Can we come in and talk?"
"Sure."
Inori glanced at Josuke, quietly annoyed, but swallowed it and stepped through the entryway.
Her original plan had been to explain things right there at the doorstep. Yasuho and Koichi both knew about Stands already—one of them was even a Stand user. A quick summary wouldn't be hard to follow. But things weren't going as smoothly as she'd hoped. Standing in front of someone else's door to have this conversation wasn't exactly polite, either.
"Oh my! A friend of Koichi's?"
Two children she'd been worrying about had both made friends at the start of the new semester—Mrs. Hirose was genuinely moved. Spatula in hand, apron still on, she hurried out to greet them.
"Good evening, ma'am. I'm Josuke Higashikata—Koichi's classmate."
Josuke's hairstyle was... unconventional, to say the least. But his good manners and humble attitude made a strong first impression. Mrs. Hirose was an adult, after all—she wasn't about to trash-talk someone's appearance the way Rohan would.
—Swap out the hair for something normal and Josuke Higashikata would be a flawless young man.
But if he did that, he'd lose the Joestar soul. Every generation of JoJo, aside from Jonathan, had at least one mortifying quirk. Joseph's "ambushing his mother" incident. Jotaro's abnormal fixation on marine life. Josuke and the hair. Giorno could somehow fold his entire ear into the ear canal. Jolyne didn't like wearing underwear. And Johnny... had a thing for bug bites on girls' skin. Each one stranger than the last.
"Have a seat over there for a moment—dinner will be ready soon." Mrs. Hirose beamed.
"Oh, no, really—I just came to talk to Koichi about something. I'll be leaving right away."
"Nonsense. Ayana isn't coming home tonight, so there's extra. Don't be shy, Josuke-kun."
"..." Josuke looked to Inori for permission, and only after catching the girl's subtle nod did he dare accept.
After thanking their hostess several times over, the group headed upstairs.
Inori knocked on Yasuho's door. No answer. She tried the handle—unlocked—and walked right in. She didn't consider this rude. After all, Yasuho had done the same to her, barging in while Inori was adjusting her underwear.
Yasuho wasn't sleeping. She sat in her chair wearing a pair of oversized headphones, thumbing through a freshly purchased manga weekly with obvious relish, her body swaying to the rhythm of whatever she was listening to. She was thoroughly immersed in her own loud, cheerful little world.
—What's our dear Yasuho up to? Let's give her a scare.
"Guess who."
The same old trick. Inori hadn't really planned on playing this childish game—she just wanted to startle her a little.
"Ayana, quit it. Stop messing around."
A pair of cool, smooth hands covered her eyes. Headphones still on, Yasuho couldn't hear the intruder's voice. She blurted out the first name that came to mind.
"Guess wrong and I'll snap your neck."
Inori flashed a wicked grin.
The headphones slipped from Yasuho's hair down to her shoulders. Jagged rock music bled into the space between them. Without the noise cancellation, Yasuho recognized the voice—it wasn't her older sister Ayana after all.
"Inori? You're back?"
Yasuho spun around in her chair, surprised and delighted.
"I come home and you don't even know?"
Inori held her smile.
—Oho~ Look at her scrambling.
"What are you talking about?" Yasuho answered vaguely, her gaze drifting off to the side—not quite meeting Inori's eyes.
"You put Paisley Park on me, didn't you?" Inori tilted her chin up, crimson eyes lowering as she looked down at Yasuho in the chair. "Why?"
"...I saw how you were dressed and knew you were going off to do something dangerous again. Am I not allowed to worry about you?"
A suspicious blush crept across Yasuho's face.
Saying it out loud to Inori's face felt mortifying—like she harbored some kind of inappropriate feelings for the girl.
"Of course you are."
"But I told you—a Stand is a weapon for protecting yourself." Inori seized Yasuho's wrist, leaning down until she was practically in her face, staring directly into those pale blue eyes with absolute seriousness. Yasuho's breathing quickened involuntarily; her exhaled breath carried a faint trace of potato chips.
"Morioh is crawling with Stand users right now. Paisley Park is your own Stand—your means of self-defense. You can't hand it over to anyone, no matter how close they are."
"I-it's not that serious, is it?"
Yasuho forced a smile.
She caught a scent on Inori—something earthy, outdoorsy, like the fresh, clean smell that lingers in the air after rain stops. It seemed like the girl had been all over the place today.
"I ran into a truly vile killer today. A Stand user."
"You mean like that robber from before?"
Yasuho couldn't believe Morioh harbored someone like that, but she knew Inori wouldn't lie.
"Far worse. This man has lived in Morioh for over thirty years and murdered more than fifty people without ever being brought to justice. Josuke and I, along with two other allies, have decided to bring him the punishment those victims deserve."
"So starting tonight, I'll be staying at the Morioh Grand Hotel."
"No!" Yasuho shot to her feet the moment she heard, shoving Inori's hands aside and gripping her shoulders instead. Her voice was fierce, eyes boring into those crimson irises. "It's too dangerous, Inori! Don't do this!"
"Can't you just call the police? You're just a girl—why are you so set on doing something this dangerous? Why can't you just stay here with me?"
The words came faster and more heated. Something nameless surged up from her chest—her eyes grew wet, trembling with unshed tears.
"I finally... I finally have a friend like you."
Inori was stunned. She hadn't expected Yasuho to react this intensely. Was the girl really this sensitive, or was Inori's charm genuinely that devastating?
She'd admit to being a vain woman. People who adored her—men and women alike—were a dime a dozen. In her previous world alone, she'd had a million fans as a singer.
But this went beyond mere charm.
Something was wrong with Yasuho Hirose.