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Dancing with the devil

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“Hey, are you Midler?” Hyacinthe raised his head, looking at his interlocutor. A japanese teenager, probably around 16, with wavy black hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a long skirt with combat boots underneath, a white button-up and a black cap that casted a shadow over her eyes. If she was any older, she would have been his type.

She looked strong, what’s with her forearms wrapped in bandages, her hands adorned with fingerless leather gloves and something else that told Hyacinthe the girl must be a recently awakened Stand User. One who didn’t have a hold of her powers yet.

Must be the one who contacted us . “Yeah. I am. You’re... Jojo, right?” It’s how the person who had contacted them had asked to be called. To be honest, when Lord Dea had asked him to go to Japan to investigate that ‘Jojo’, Lord Dea had asked him to go investigate in Japan to meet that "Jojo",he didn’t really know what to expect, but he knew it was something exactly like this: someone who was having a Stand problem.

“Okay, good.” The teenager said, sitting down and fixing Midler with a hard stare. The man must admit, the girl had guts, staring at a Stand User as if she was assessing him, looking at him as if she could easily crush him. And it was actually scaring him a little bit. “Is there a reason you’re dressed like a stripper?”

What? “What? Oh!” Hyacinthe chuckled, confusing the teenager. “I’ll have you know there isn’t a single Stand user who dresses, or look, like a normal person, and you’re no exception.” That girl looked somewhere between “Hello, I am a regular schoolgirl, just trying to live my life” and “I’m going to beat you to death if you so much as look at me wrong”. With a leaning toward the “beat you to death” part, seeing as that glare seemed sculpted into her face.

“What the fuck is a Stand?!”

Well, that confirmed his suspicions that she didn’t know what she was dealing with. Hyacinthe sighed. "A Stand is basically a manifestation of your fighting spirit. A ghostly ripple of yourself."

‘Jojo’ blinked in confusion, or at least Hyacinthe assumed it was in confusion. Hard to tell with that apparently constant frown. "Okay, that's nice. Except that you're supposed to help me with an evil spirit that's haunting me."

What was up with this kid? "Yeah. The "evil spirit" that’s following you around is your Stand. I have one too-"

Two long purple arms shot out of Jojo's shoulders, visibly aiming for him, but they had faded as fast as they had appeared. The girl, who looked ready to attack him one second ago, had now curled into herself, face completely hidden by the bill of her hat as she muttered "go away" over and over. Hyacinthe watched her, waiting for the very intense energy of the Stand to subside, and realizing that for someone who probably only has seen glimpses of her Stand, ‘Jojo’ already had a pretty good grip on it.

“I don’t care. I don’t give a shit whether or not you have a fighting spirit or I do or some shit.” ‘Jojo’ started, voice shaky. “The reason why I asked for help is because I have no control over that... thing. I want to get rid of it.” The teenager explained, slowly uncurling. 

Hyacinthe stared at her, confusion on his face before realizing with horror that she had no idea of what she was doing- “No, kid. Trust me, you do not want to get rid of your Stand-”

“How would you know?” ‘Jojo’ asked, eyes narrowing.

“Because I have one! It’s a part of yourself! The reason why you think you can’t control is it because you just awakened to it!” Hyacinthe snapped, slamming his hands on the table and getting up, pushing his chair back and glaring and the teenage girl.

The teenage girl returned the glare tenfold. “I’ve lived my entire life without it. And I want to get rid of it. Tell me how I do that.”

“I don’t- why would you-” Hyacinthe started, before sitting back down, rubbing his temple and sending a bewildered look at the teenage girl as he sat back down. She was still staring holes into him. “I don’t know how.” He finally admitted, the girl’s eyes widening in… panic? “Most people don’t want to be rid of their Stands. They give you power, and become a constant in your life. A friend that only you can see.” He explained, trying to calm her down as she started breathing becoming heavy and short.

‘Jojo’ was curling into herself again, her hands flying up to her hat, clutching it tight to her head and knees rising so she could hide her face in them. Her shoulders were shaking with what was either panic or sobbing. Judging what was either panic or sobs. Judging by the very fast-paced japanese muttering, probably panic.

Hyacinthe sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that evening, before executing his Lord's plan. "But I know someone that might." One blue eye peaked up at him. "Her name is Dea. She's the one who sent me there."

"We met because of the Craigslist ad I put up."

"She told me about it. The matter is, Dea is not just a simple Stand user… she knows things that are beyond us." He started, tone taking a dreamy quality as he remembered the blonde woman, not noticing that the teenager became slightly creeped out. "She came into this world one day, and started gathering Stand users like you and I… saving us from our solitude, she-"

"SHUT UP! I don't care about your crush! I don't care if she's a living goddess or whatever, what I want to know is if she can help me with this stand shit!" 'Jojo' yelled, slamming her fists on the table and snapping Hyacinthe out of his day-dreaming. Her face was contorted in anger, and the muscles in her hands were visibly clenching and unclenching. She then took a deep breath, burying her face in her hands. “Can she?”

 Jotoka took a deep breath, locking the door behind her as she stepped out of her house. She adjusted the messenger bag on her shoulder, which contained the essentials for a short travel: her wallet, spare underwear, a pack of cigarettes and lighter (she only smoked when she was feeling stressed), a swiss knife, her phone with headphones and charger, a few books (both about marine life and a bunch of superhero comics), a spare pair of shoes, a toothbrush, deodorant, a dolphin squishy toy for more stressful situations, first aid kit because she knew she was eventually going to get into a fight, and a childhood picture of her with her parents. 

Her dad had went to sleep about thirty minutes ago, and she had written a short letter explaining the situation as best as she could.

We’re being haunted.

I’m going to go meet someone who can help us.

Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing.

Don’t try to follow me.

I love you.


While the evil spirit -Stand?- was the main reason why she had posted the ad in the first place, she normally would have found ways to deal with it on her own, only checking the ad if it came to it. But the sight of those ghostly vines growing out of her father’s back as his health was slowly drained made her realize that whatever the thing following her was, it wasn’t the biggest problem.

The biggest problem was her father dying.

If that Dea lady could get rid of the evil spirit, then she could easily get rid of whatever was plaguing her father.

The teenager followed the road, before ending up in front of the liquor store where her and Midler had agreed to meet. The not-stripper (seriously, what was up with that outfit? A starfish-shaped bra? Did he not know that starfishes were alive!?) was waiting for her. He lifted his head in acknowledgement as she came near him. “Ready to go?”


“Alright. Then let’s go.”