I serverly, apologize for the HUGE delay on updates. And I know that I said I'd publish "arcs" as whole packages, but I just feel so bad for making y'all wait THIS long already.

So, have this almost 6,000 word chapter to make up for it!

!homphobic slurrs used!
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A sweet-scented breeze blew in from the window, it carried with it the scent of the nearby cherry blossoms starting to bloom. The window was propped open with a stick – its lock hanging loose and broken neatly in half. The soft wind rustled a few loose papers that laid upon a desk, that was illuminated in the sunlight dust particles dancing around in the golden beams. A hulking mass stood in the corner of the room seeming searching for something. Jotaro straightened himself out, his blue gaze not shadowed by his usual cap. One could see the euphoria that was swimming through the ocean color of his eyes, as he tilted his head a bit: cat like almost. Between his callused hands he held a white-blouse, that was spotted with purple and gold dots. He ran it through his fingers feeling the silky fabric slide through them with ease. Smiling he brushed his face up against the shirt, rubbing his scent into it, The man buried his face into it a moment later, and breathed in. It still had the lingering scent of the cologne that Noriaki wore. Jotaro had liked this shirt on him a lot.  That’s why: he was going to take it.

He slipped the blouse into the satchel he carried with him, as he opened it – the contents inside were revealed. It was full of items that had been taken from the room. From other articles of clothing, like underwear and pants – to stranger items, such as a toothbrush and there was even a crushed soda can. All of the items were simply ordinary things, what made them worth a million bars of gold in Jotaro’s eyes was that Kakyoin had touched them. Or used them. He bit into his lip and searched around for anything else he could take – certain objects he wouldn’t dare touch. Such as the sketchbooks that were littered about. His gaze landed upon an ink pen that sat at the desk. Jotaro wandered over to it, and he delicately picked it up rolling it between his fingers. He wanted this too.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he recognized the step: and the heeled click of Kakyoin’s shoes.

“Star Platinum: The World.” All sound ceased and everything around him froze. Jotaro had gotten used to using his newfound ability, and, he had gotten better at it. He could almost hold it for a whole minute now – if he really focused, though exhaustion would wreak havoc on his body if be held out the time stop for too long. He was sure, that he could even manage to kill himself if he held it for longer than his body could take: every second he kept the world frozen his body was depleted of energy. Likely Dio didn’t have this problem because he wasn’t human – but Jotaro found it a pesky nuisance. He swung open the door to the room and there he was, Noriaki: frozen half-way through a step. He reached up and ran his hand gently down the other male’s cheek.

Time resumed.

Kakyoin stepped through his door, and frowned. Confusion washed over him – when had he opened his door? He didn’t remember even touching the knob, perhaps he was just tired: it was the early morning after all. His furrowed gaze landed upon his window, but it was closed. He wandered over to it feeling a chill run down his spine, something was off about it. He knelt down a bit and he sucked in a breath. The indoor lock had been broken in half – with precision for it almost fit perfectly back together again. He swallowed and looked around wondering how and why someone had broken into his room. Nothing of value seemed to be missing. But there was also the issue of, how? The lock on his window was inside – you couldn’t open it from the outside or break it like it was either from there. One had to be inside the room. Unless someone could phase through it.

Noriaki stiffened. Could it be an enemy Stand User? While it was unlikely, it wouldn’t be impossible, after all Mirai had been a fellow Stand User. He frowned deeply, his thought whirling. If it was someone hostile – then why didn’t they attack the redhead directly? What was the point of snooping around his room? He sighed and ran a hand through his uncombed hair. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to figure out this mystery anyways without clues, and there seemed to be none. Stretching and yawning he made his way to his bathroom, he stopped.

“Mom!” he called out, “Where is my toothbrush?"

His mother’s mildly irritated voice came back, “That is the third toothbrush just this month Noriaki! How in the world are you even losing them?”

Kakyoin rolled his eyes, “Hell if I know!”

[●●●●]

School was strange today: while the pair was used to getting the couple dozen strange glances, today, it seemed worse. Yet: Jotaro couldn’t catch a single whisper as to what the entire fiasco was about. One thing that put him entirely off balance was the absences of his fan club, they walked to school far behind the pair of friends, lingering but not daring to come close. At first, he thought that they had finally gotten the message, but he caught them giggling between themselves a few times and pointing. Others, their gazes held jealousy and hints of disgust for what, he couldn’t tell you. It didn’t matter all that much, but it was unsettling to have his morning routine thrown off so thoroughly. Then: things got worse.
They passed by a lamppost that sat at the last corner you had to turn to get to school, it was constantly covered in flyers. Some about missing pets, people searching for work, and the occasional missing person.

Jotaro per-usual ignored the post, but he found that as he turned the corner, Kakyoin wasn’t following him. He sighed deeply and spun upon his heel wondering what in the world the ginger could be doing, and caught him staring at the papers that gently moved in the wind. His face was pale and his eyes had widened with shock and a mixture of worry. The Joestar grumbled beneath his breath and he walked over. He turned his gaze towards the same direction as his companion, and the face of Mirai stared back at him from a missing poster.

His eyes widened and he took a step back. That wasn’t possible. Her body should have been found on the sidewalk, splattered across the concrete like a morbid abstract painting. He had snapped her neck himself, there was no way someone hadn’t found her body. A chill ran down his spine. If she had the ability to make a perfect copy of someone else, could she – copy herself? Never had he felt deeper fear plunge through his body, if she was alive: if she talked, he’d lose everything. He jolted as he felt someone tapping upon his shoulder.

“JoJo,”Kakyoin said slowly, his voice edged, “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He shook his head, “I’m sorry...I know she broke up with you but, I’m just a bit shocked that she would go missing.”

“I know...I do hope she’s alright. I know we didn’t work out but,” his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. There were unspoken words drifting through the air between them, ‘I don’t want more people around me to die.’

Those were the harsh words that cut through the air between the two. The curse of being a Stand User, breeding trouble as if it were a rabbit that was constantly at your heels. While, Jotaro could only feel his blood curdling as he wrapped an arm around Kakyoin’s shoulder as Mirai’s face stared at him from that thin slip of paper: he understood. She had been the only other Stand User Noriaki’s age he had ever met. The redhead shook his head and he slipped away from the comforting touch of the taller.

“Let’s get going. We’ll be late if we linger here too long.”

Jotaro nodded, but as they walked towards the school: he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder – waiting to see ghost.

As they sat down for first hour, the Joestar could tell that the redhead was still shaken. He bit the inside of his lip, cursing the alive or dead Mirai silently – how dare she harm Kakyoin even after she was meant to be dead? Perhaps, somehow Jotaro would need to find a punishment even more permanent than death, which was likely impossible: but for his precious lavender eyed Noriaki, he’d move Heaven and earth. Unable to reach out for him with the eyes of his classmates watching, and a teacher expecting their undivided attention: he reached out with his soul. [Star Platinum] appeared in a flurry, purple aura scattering through the air like dust particle and the man was a bit taken aback by it. He had never seen that before, perhaps, the longer he harbored his Stand: it would mature and grow with him. The being looked back at him; humanoid face scrunched with confusion. They grabbed the leg of Kakyoin’s desk, and squeezed it starting to bend the metal and Jotaro sighed, shaking his head.

Of course, his Stand had to be as bad as him at expressing affection. [Star} furrowed their face as they let go of the leg, Kakyoin had yet to look up from the homework he was doing, which had only been assigned a few minutes ago. The purple-Stand floated over behind the redhead, and wrapped their rms around Kakyoin: and then squeezed. Jotaro watched with a gentle smile as Noriaki lifted his head looking awfully confused, before he spotted the semi-transparent gloves that were wrapped about his chest. The shorter smiled softly and a chuckle rumbled through his chest, Jotaro felt goosebumps rise up upon his arms , as the sound shifted through [Star] and was replicated upon him. The ginger coughed, and the Joestar found to his horror that his Stand had started to squeeze a bit too hard, as his friend clearly struggled to breathe.

His Stand’s natural instinct was to break, to destroy: so, of course a hug would turn into a bone crushing embrace. He drew [Star Platinum] back away from Kakyoin, but he didn’t unmanifest it. As the redhead laughed, the man who sat beside him could swear that he heard a choir join in from the Heavens – or perhaps, he was simply losing his mind. He still had yet, to fully grasp the slipping of his own sanity. The absence of it – was hardly different than when he had it, if it had ever been there at all. These kinds of philosophical thoughts tended to hurt the ravenette’s head, so, he didn’t linger. He loved Noriaki, and that was all he needed.

A delicate hand reached up to pat floating and celestial hair, cool fingers running through long strands of hair sending tingling warmth running down Jotaro’s scalp down to the tip of his spine. In a split second, he convinced himself that he would grow his hair long so that Noriaki would have plenty of wavy black locks of hair to run his hands through. He’d even let the artist braid it and comb through it if he wanted. As he watched a wide smile from upon his friend’s face, he finally withdrew his Stand.

‘Feeling better now?’ Jotaro’s voice floated through Kakyoin’s head, always sounding so much more gentle echoing though his empty expanse of conscious thought.

‘Much. Thank you, JoJo...’ he paused for a moment, and his smile slipped naturally into a smirk. ‘You should grow out your hair.’

Sweet laughter flickered through their silent communication, ‘I was already thinking about it. We both should, we could look like rebel rock stars!’

‘Keep dreaming pal, you’d never pull off the rock star look. However,’ Kakyoin pressed a hand to his chest, as he sat up straighter puffing it out. ‘I will grow a mighty mane! As any good lion does.’

Jotaro scuffed, ‘You think you’re a lion? More like a raccoon.’

He heard an offended gasp rattle through his skull, leaking with playfulness. The Joestar couldn’t help bust shiver, when they spoke telepathically, it felt so much more intimate. He decided that they should do this more often. Noriaki’s voice filled his head again, ‘At least I’m not a grumpy old-house cat.’

Now it was the taller’s turn to be offended, ‘I’m a wolf – and you know it.’

‘Everyone claims they’re a wolf-’

‘Cause their cool! I mean, who even wants to be a lion? They’re assholes.’

This went on for some time: until as the bell ring, they missed the two-thirds of the lesson to come to the conclusion that believing in spirit animals was extremely lame. Their next period, was P.E - and Jotaro couldn’t be happier waling into a class, the uneasiness of the morning having been completely wiped away by the fun banter him and Noriaki had exchanged. Though, every time they started running – worry would plunge through him as he followed close to his injured crush, wincing every time his braces readjusted themselves. As they approached the locker rooms, Jotaro let Kakyoin walk in first as he always did look out for anyone who may think it was funny to try and trip him, for their P.E classes weren’t co-ed, and that meant: almost every guy in their grade shared a class with each other. Including the assholes who held a grudge against Jotaro Kujo: and would take it out on anyone he spoke too.

The Joestar went to enter after the ginger, but found a group of guys blocking his path. They were sneering at him, and a sinking feeling entered his body. He tensed wondering if he was already going to get into a physical fight today. He kept his voice steady as possible, trying not to let his irritation leak through. “Excuse me: but I need to go change.”

One of them stepped up, the leader of the pack clearly as the others shirked back from the pair: ready to spur on a fight, but never to step in. “Well, Kujo, sorry to say: but you have to wait until we’ve all changed first.”

He rose an eyebrow, “And why the hell is that?”

“Because,” the student sneered, “We don’t want a faggot watching us change.”

He was plunged into ice. That word drove itself into his heart, and craved itself letter by letter, before it decided to plaster itself across his entire body, singing his bones and muscles. He sucked in a breath and took a step back feeling as if he had taken a blow to the chest, as he struggled to find words: to find enough strength in his body to draw vital air into his lungs. While, of course in general maliciousness had he been called such a name, but this was different. From the look that was across the thugs face, he could tell: this was completely deliberate. They knew. He felt his skin crawl as suddenly, he was no longer six foot five, but a small child: cowering before monstrous shadows. He could feel their eyes crawling their way up his back, scorching him with disgusted looks. His mind spinned. How? How could they know? The real reason he hadn't completely chased his annoying fan club was away, because it kept him safe: if kept these kinds of rumors from surfacing. So where – where did this come from?

Mirai, she must have had a friend near-by: and they spread the word.

“I don’t know what you mean: listen, just move. Unless you want to try picking a fight with me.” every word felt like tar coming off his tongue, the male before him didn’t even flinch at the other’s fiery gaze.

“You heard me. We don’t want to be objectified by someone like you – I'm sure you’ve watched all of us change haven't you Kujo? Maybe you’ve even imagined sucking some of our dicks huh?” the thug laughed, and his pack joined in all of them cackling. Jotaro felt his face start to grow hot: and he sucked in a breath. He knew that he should feel anger – but, for so long he had struggled with his own identity, and to be ridiculed for it, after finally having accepted it - there was a pain leaking into him that he had never known.

“You’re no longer king of the school, JoJo. So how about you just wait out here while the real men get dressed. “
The dark-haired man shook his head and tried to push past them, but he was only thrown back. Jotaro faced a snarling face twisted up almost inhumanly.

“What did I just say – got wax in your ears? You aren’t changing until we’re done.”

A voice called out, and a familiar face flickering with barely contained rage appeared in the crowd, “Oi! What the hell is this all about?”

The leader turned his attention to Noriaki, “Say: aren't you the guy who Kujo let’s fuck him like a girl?” he grabbed onto the redhead, and he slung his arm over his shoulder – Jotaro caught sight of a flickering aura. “Tell me, is he any good? And does he take cash or credit?”

That was the last straw: the Joestar growled and he lunged forward blindly. He was overpowered before he could even get a single swing in as the thug baited him. He saw from the corner of his eye Noriaki being shoved back by the crowd of boys all of them hollering incoherently. Jotaro found himself being forced into a head lock – a forearm pressing against his throat. Air became difficult to find, as the thug applied strength behind the hold, and the man found himself choking unable to even manage any words as he felt his windpipe being crushed.

“What are you squirming around so much for faggot? Doesn’t your kind like this – huh!?”

Laugher pierced through the struggling fire inside of his lungs, as they struggled to take in gasping breaths of air. It rattled about in his ears, and he was brought back down to a small toddler. A toddler who didn’t look like any of his classamates,and had a funny accent because he had spent too much time with his American grandfather that summer before – and he knew funny words. They mocked and sneered. Some even threw things. Tears began to form they stung his face as they trailed down silently, and of course, everyone say them: saw his weakness as the walls seemed to begin to cave in – darkness settling comfortable in the edges of his vision.

Then: the pressure disappeared. The laugher was replaced with the sound of panicked running and the cries of men who had just seen their life flash before their eyes. He crumbled to the floor, gasping as his lung managed to fill up again with sweet air his vision clearing from the dangerous shadows of unconsciousness. Yet, the blur of tears sill stained them. He sat on the floor, trembling able to hear himself let out a weak sob. He felt strong hands grasp his shoulders.

“I know I promised to never use my Stand on those who can’t see or fight it again, but,” the redhead’s voice was shaky. “Jesus Christ, I thought he was going to kill you...”

Jotaro couldn’t manage words, his throat was flaming: and he knew that he was wheezing – he prayed that his windpipe hadn't been forever harmed. He saw the gym teacher approaching rapidly, followed behind by bloodied male students who all had variers cuts across thier bodies: deep ones too. Noriaki mumbled something that Jotaro didn’t catch, but he felt tendrils unravel themselves gently about his body: holding him in the ginger’s place. He melted into it, barely listening to the heated exchange Kakyoin began to have with their teacher: curse words flew from between his usually well-mannered lips.

The redhead knelt down before him again, a gentle look across his face. It remined Jotaro of the look his mother gave him when he had come him with bruises from the other kids. He used his hand to wipe away the remaining tears that were splattered across the taller’s face, his voice soft. “Let’s get you home JoJo.”

[●●●●]

He had thought his day couldn’t get any worse: but he had been foolish to even think those words. Fate had it out for Jotaro Kujo and it was awfully clear. As he slid open his front door rather than being greeted with his mother, who he so desperately would have accepted a hug from: even a kiss on the cheek, he found himself facing a man. A long and square face framed by long-and slightly wavy black hair stared back at him with a thin frame, and even slimer yet, callused fingers: stood his father.

Sadao stepped towards him, his coal-like eyes flooding with concern and worry, emotions that when seen in that man’s eyes made rage boil to the top of everything in his son. The rage spilled over Jotaro’s walls as if it was hot tar being poured down upon enemy lines - and Sadao seemed to feel it. He stopped before embracing the teenager his raised arms dropping to his side limply.

“I-” he coughed, his dark gaze falling to the floor. “Heard what happened at school. You’re not hurt too badly are you-?”

“How did you get in.” snarled the younger Kujo in the room, his teeth bared. “You don’t have a key to this house: but Mom’s not home is she?”

Sadao swallowed and he cringed back from his son, he knew the male’s tendency for violence. “Your mother let me in when I got home: she’s out buying ingredients for a special dinner-”

“Leave.” came another snapping response, venom dripping between each letter. “You’re not needed or wanted here. You always just waltz into our lies again when it's convenient for you. I’ve kept track of all the things you've missed. Six birthdays. Six anniversaries. Seventeen track meets. Three concerts. And 52,560 hours of my life. So, leave.”

Jotaro spun around in his heels, practically running to his room: he couldn't risk Sadao seeing the tears that were rising again. He used o hardly cry at all, having been desensitized to it: but as his life seemingly fell apart around his ears, h couldn’t help but fall back into pathetic habits. He slammed his door closed, and slid down it: burying his face into his hands. Shaking softly, he managed to clear his head and shove aside all of the turmoil that had been brought to the forefront of his mind again at the sight of his father.

He stood and wandered over to his closet. He slid it open, revealing inside beneath his hanging clothes was a small bed-side table. On top of it, there was a tri-fold meant for cheesy school projects, but his was filled with photos. Photos of kakyoin, some of them clearly taken with the male’s conscious consent, and there, through windows: and from across streets were scattered across the board as well. Beneath the small table was a growing collection of items, all of them, having been the redheads at some point.

Jotaro dropped to his knees before the shrine, and he placed his head on the table – staring up at his collage, he needed to get more film soon: so, he could take more pictures.

“God, Nori, I wish you were here...”

He buried his face into his arms: he wanted this pain to stop. He needed this pain to stop. His breathing quivered, and finally his tears have way to a more familiar emotion. It raced through his body undaunted by any other emotion attempting to run along side it, stop it from infecting him. It was, rage. His flaming anger had become a comfort ever since he had been young, it was a feeling he could grasp and understand. One he could always identify.  He relished in it, a smile begining to flicker across his features as a sweet burning darkness swept over his soul. These dark flames filled his body and bones, dulling everything else.

He chuckled, the sound came from somewhere deep within his chest: he hardly even sounded like himself anymore. The male's blue gaze flashed for a moment gleaming with his vile thoughts and intents. This: was his true breaking point. He had been pushed further than he could go - already walking on a thin line of rope. Well, someone had just cut it. That was, Sadao. Jotaro was going to get rid of him, cut him out of his life for good. He'd never walk back through that front door again.

A giggle slipped through Jotaro's lips, and he fell backwards in front of his shrine, particularly howling - as it finally grasped around him. Madness, took hold: it had always been there at the fringes of his mind, waiting. The stalking panther that was insanity had gotten its chance to pounce upon the young man, and now that it had him in its claws - it would never let go. So, he laughed. The sound resonated around his room as his entire body shook, trembling from the sheer force of his cackling.

Sadao, stood outside his son's door: and he went to knock - but froze as he heard the laughter. He felt a chill run through his entire body and he took a step back. His hand fell to his side. The man swallowed. That didn't even sound like his son. It was as if he was hearing a warped and demonic version of the teenager. The musician closed his eyes and swallowed again. He spun on his heel, and stuffed his hands into his pockets - letting out a huff of air.

Let Jotaro have his mental breakdown.

The young Joestar, was enjoying this little meltdown. How could he not? When he felt like he was free of all his problems. All he felt coursing through his veins, was pure euphoria. He manged to stop laughing, and he laid on his floor staring up up the shrine he had created with such care. He purred beneath his breath, reaching out for the collection of images. He's make this world perfect for Noriaki. In order to do that, he'd have to cleanse it. With surprising clarity, he reached into his pocket: and pulled out his little notebook.

He stared at the list of names. With ease, he summoned [Star] and the spirit grabbed him a pencil. Jotaro scribbled down his father's name at the end of it. It would have to be the perfect murder - and to reach perfection, there was only one way.

You needed to practice.

[●●●●]
H

e had the poor first year pinned against the lockers, Jotaro as a dilenquent himself had no trouble finding the fresh meat that was being inciated into various groups around the school. Jotaro himself, had never been apart of them: he had always been a lone wolf - fighting anyone he liked. The boy, was small even for his age - quivering beneath the sheer size of the upperclassmen who had grabbed him by the back of his collar and slammed him into the lockers.

"I need you, to send a message for me." The older of the two boys growled out, his voice deeper than what it should be for a teenager. The first yeat nodded without hesitation, but he couldn't manage any words. "Tell, Doi Hastha, Touma Ken, Youta Jinki to meet me in the bamboo forest: after the bell rings. And if they bring extras, then, well, they die too."

Jotaro stepped away, and he dusted off his jacket: spotting redhair flashing down the hallway. He jerked his head at the kid, a silent dismissal. He watched in amusement as the younger student tripped over himself and scrambled away as fast as he could. Kakyoin stepped up beside him, and sighed.

"I thought I was managing to break you of those nasty dilenquent habits of yours: like bullying the first years." He sighed deeply, and dramatically weeded fakely. "All my hard work was for nothing!"

"I wasn't bullying him," the taller huffed out. "I was just having him send a message for me."

The redhead snorted, "And you just had to almost make the kid pee his pants to do that? Admit it, Kujo, you're a jerk."

Jotaro shook his head and for a few seconds he didn't answer simply replaying the way Kakyoin said his last name in his head a thousand times over. "A jerk? I'd call myself an asshole."

"I was trying to be nice," Noriaki huffed and he tilted his head, purple gaze glittering. "What was the message, anyway?"

"Nothing." The Joestar answered too quickly, but, his saving grace from any further questioning was the bell ringing. He could see Kakyoin visually frown, and knew he would ask the second he saw Jotaro again: and would attempt to corner him into telling. The ravenette gave Kakyoin a quick goodbye before dashing off seemingly, to his next class. Instead of arriving to his fourth period, the seasoned dilenquent snuck out of a window: they were usally locked by this one's lock had been broken for years. The school, just never fixed it.

He whistled a soft tune his hands in his pockets: as he marched over to the bamboo forest. Jotaro closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet spring breeze. The school year was starting to draw nearer to it's end, and with it - summer was coming. His heart couldn't help itself as it spun fantasies of getting to spend the summer with Noriaki. He defiantly thought about hot, summer days spent on the sandy beach - the ginger in nothing but a flimsy pair of swim trunks. Jotaro's face burned at the thought, and he hummed.

Or, bunkering down through summer storms in his house - nobody else around but them. Oh, yes. This summer was going to be the greatest he'd ever have. As long, as he took out the trash first. Speaking of which: Jotaro opened his eyes easily breaking through his thoughts, spotting the three thugs. They had been the second years who thought they could gang up on Noriaki: because he was easy pickings.

The Joestar, wasn't even angry. He only felt the hum of joy begin to pump through his blood. "Well, well, I can't believe you actually showed up."

Touma, the leader of the ragtag group stepped up. His voice trembled despite his facade of bravery, "Listen, Kujo-san if this is about that cripple-"

CRACK! CRACK!
The sound hummed through the forest, bouncing off of the slender bamboo stalks. Touma stood there frozen in shock, not sure what just occurred. It had sounded like bones: cracking. No. That was it, it sounded like gunfire almost and it rang in his ears. He stared at Jotaro, yet, the man looked almost bored as he stood there inspecting his nails. Trembling, the younger male spun around and his face drained of all color at the sight that greeted him. The other two thugs, were dead: heads twisted backwards.

"How? When-?" Touma struggled to even form words, his brain couldn't connected anything that had just transpired together. The amount of strength it would take to do that, was astronomical: and then, there was the fact that he saw nothing. It was as if the air itself had just grabbed them and killed them within the blink of an eye.

"I didn't want them to suffer. They were just following your orders, after all..."Jotaro spoke slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. He took a tentive step forward, and watched as Touma tripped over himself. He held up a shaking hand, voice cracking cracking the tears that poured down his face.

"Wait-t! Wait! Please, Kujo-san! We can work this out." He squealed a bit, as he was hoisted up with one hand, by the front of his shirt. That'd when, true dread settled into his body: he went stiff frozen to the core. There was no reasoning with this, this monster.

Jotaro's voice, was what Touma believed the reaper sounded like, deep and rough: filled with venom. "You signed your death warrant, the moment you touched Noriaki."

He wasn't sure why, he had chosen the method of death that he did: but, as he summoned [Star Platinum]  the spirit creature took its fist, and put a hoel straight through Touma. Jotaro gasped almost erotically as he felt blood gush around his arm, a phantom fabricated feelings but: he still could feel the warmth of it dripping down the entire length of his arm. He watched as it blosmed from the gaping wound, pouring into the earth. The dying teen sputtered and gurgled on his own blood for a while, before the light went out in his eyes. Every nerve in the Joestar's body was shooting off dopamine it seemed as every fiber hummed with satisfaction.

If he hadn't known any better, Jotaro might have thought he was getting hard at the sight. He pulled himself out of his trance, and using [Star] with ease he three the bodies deep into the forest: where they likely wouldn't be found for months. Maybe, even years. Satisfied that his task was complete, he headed back to school. He pasued. He just realized,that people were streaming out from the school grounds - it had been early release today. He ran now, not wanting to be late meeting Kakyoin at the gate.

His redhaired friend opened his mouth to say something, as Jotaro rushed up to him. Those words never escaped his throat, as his lips were pressed agaisnt Jotaro's. He stood there frozen in shock, and a few students around them gasped. Yet, nobody tried to say something nasty about the situation - terrified of Jotaro. And maybe, even Kakyoin. The shorter male melted into the kiss, cherishing it.

"Be my boyfriend, please..."Jotaro breathed agaisnt the other's lips as he pulled away. "I had a sappy confess planned but this: was a lot less nerve wracking."

Noriaki laughed, "Of course I want to be you boyfriend! Especially after a kiss like that. Very macho of you." He fake swooned and Jotaro groaned, his face flushing. But, there was a grin splitting across both of their faces,as they took each other's hands.

This, was a new beginning.