Yasuho Hirose hadn't been sleeping well.
Every night brought nightmares. She'd feel herself sinking into a pitch-black ocean, body drifting deeper and deeper. Above her, all she could see were lines shifting into shapes she couldn't name, and her body would slowly become weightless.
She'd thought it was a side effect of the Stand. In truth, the problem ran far deeper.
Ever since Inori appeared—or rather, ever since that day—something had felt fundamentally wrong. Her mental state was deteriorating badly. On the surface she could still get along with her classmates, handle club responsibilities, keep up appearances. But she knew her own body better than anyone. It was like the hypersensitivity that sets in after too many sleepless nights—every nerve frayed, temper shortened, the world gradually losing its edges until familiar things stopped making sense.
(③)
Around other people, just maintaining a normal conversation took everything she had. The effort of appearing functional was exhausting. She felt like a stranger wearing her own face. Everyone around her—even her mother, Mrs. Hirose—registered as subtly, inexplicably off.
"I've been in a really bad state lately. I'm sorry... Inori."
Realizing she'd lost her composure, Yasuho lowered her head in quiet apology.
She wasn't Inori's mother or sister. She probably didn't even qualify as a close friend. She had no right to dictate Inori's choices. But she was falling apart, and she couldn't regulate her emotions the way she normally could.
She knew she was heading for trouble. It was probably time to see a therapist.
"Let Paisley Park stay with you for now."
Inori looked at Yasuho's listless, defeated expression and felt a pang of sympathy. She reached out and gently stroked the girl's hair, hoping to offer even a small measure of comfort.
"I'm really not blaming you. Thanks to your help, I was able to find where that guy was hiding."
Inori loved to tease people, but she knew when to stop. She could see that Yasuho was burdened by something—some private anguish, whether it was psychological or the result of a Stand attack. As long as the all-capable Paisley Park stayed by Yasuho's side, she'd be safe.
"No."
Yasuho was silent for a moment, then shook her head.
"I don't need it. Let it help you track down the criminal instead. Inori... I know I'm not as brave as you. I can't muster the courage to face truly dangerous people. But I want you to come back safe—because you're the only friend I have right now."
With Inori, Yasuho didn't have to perform. She could let her wounds and weaknesses show, and this girl would only ever do what she was doing now—gently tending to them, soothing her restless soul.
"You're my only friend too, Yasuho."
—Just like Higashikata Josuke—the other Josuke—when he awoke after being reborn in that other world, Yasuho Hirose was the first person he saw. You could almost call it love at first sight. Now, in this world, it seems like I've taken his place... Once Yoshikage Kira is dealt with, I'll find a way to make Yasuho smile again.
"So your safety matters just as much. Don't worry—I have plenty of reliable allies. We'll be acting together. Nothing will happen to me." Inori spoke slowly, reassuringly.
"Allies?" Yasuho frowned, puzzled. "Did you get your memories back?"
"Not yet. But I know that day isn't far off." Inori looked at her and smiled, brimming with confidence. "Once we catch the suspect, maybe it'll unlock my secrets."
After Yoshikage Kira was dead, she could have Jotaro help sort out her identity registration. She could build a real life in this world. She could go to school with Yasuho, attend university—maybe even revive her career as a singer and debut again.
And someday, take a trip to Italy to pay Diavolo a visit. Heh heh... she wondered what kind of face he'd make when he saw King Crimson.
All assuming D4C didn't activate again.
...
...
"That's pretty much the whole story."
While Inori and Yasuho had their intimate heart-to-heart in the other room, Josuke had filled Koichi in on everything. Koichi wasn't a Stand user yet, but "a serial killer hiding in this town for fifteen years" was a concept terrifying enough to grasp without any supernatural context.
Koichi's teeth were chattering. Dear God—a murderer like that, right here in the town he lived in. And then it hit him: this person might have brushed past him on his way to or from school any number of times. A chill raced down his spine and cold sweat broke out across his back.
"So Big Sis Inori's staying at the hotel with us tonight, but it sounds like she's not planning to come back here after that." Josuke cradled the back of his neck and rolled it a couple of times, thinking back on his brief exchange with Inori on the walk over. "She feels bad about imposing on your family."
"Huh? That's not true at all—Mom and Yasuho-nee both really like having her here! I... I really like her too."
Koichi blurted it out, then caught himself.
"Oh? What was that?"
"Not like that! I just don't want her to leave—that's all it is!"
His face turned red as he scrambled to clarify.
After all, who wouldn't want a beautiful girl living under their roof—especially a so-called "big sister" they weren't even related to?
And really, who could blame him? Setting aside Inori's almost unreasonably beautiful appearance, her reliability and decisiveness commanded genuine respect. She'd even protected him from Josuke when the boy had lost his temper not long ago. What he felt wasn't so much affection as admiration.
"What are you two whispering about?"
The door swung open—hard. Inori had caught the sound of them apparently gossiping behind her back. Her brows pinched together in mild displeasure.
"Josuke, done explaining?"
"Yep!"
The boy jumped up from the bed and beamed at the girl standing behind Inori.
"Koichi's all caught up. And—you must be Koichi's sister? Nice to meet you! I'm Josuke Higashikata, his classmate! And Big Sis Inori's loyal underling!"
"Jo... suke..."
An ordinary name. But like a stone breaking the surface of still water, it sent ripples expanding through Yasuho Hirose's mind—layer after layer, refusing to fade.
—JOSUKE. Josuke. Josuke... -suke? Why does that name sound so familiar? I feel like I heard it somewhere, a long time ago... but I can't remember where.
"Something wrong with my name?"
Josuke noticed her head dropping, lips murmuring his name under her breath. He didn't know what to make of it.
Inori, watching from the side, wasn't worried. As long as nobody brought up his hair, you could point right at this 180-centimeter hulk's nose and chew him out, and he'd just earnestly wonder what he'd done to offend you.
"No, nothing—I'm just not fully awake yet... Haha. Nice to meet you, Josuke-kun. I'm Yasuho Hirose."
Yasuho summoned a smile, forcing herself to project the breezy, carefree image she maintained around everyone else.
But the name settled into a corner of her mind she couldn't reach... JOSUKE. But what was that name? Where had she—
...
I think I've forgotten someone important.