Thank you. I was sad to see her go and debated it with myself internally for quite a while. In the end I believed that her death would be the perfect catalyst for Josuke to leave and set out on his journey. Thanks for reading.
Jojo's Bizzare Adventure: Diamond Hunter (Jojo X HxH Crossover)
- Thread starter Merovich
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Meteorigins: Chapter 9: We'll X Meet X Again
Renko stood quietly over the body of Coco Abelnite as it lay in state within its coffin. She was a pretty woman, beautiful even. It was a shame that a life that had shone so brightly was snuffed out by the depredations of gangster filth. Such a terrible death harkened back to a decade before when the murder of children and people were far more commonplace.
The Staymos Incident, as it was now referenced, was something of a wake-up call for the people of Meteor City. Clearly the lull in violence between citizens and criminal had made the latter sick with complacency as to the proper behaviors expected, and for the citizens who suffered or looked for an excuse to vent their frustrations, the medicine was retaliation.
Not more than a week had passed since the Zan-Mari had been brought back to port, and Renko had heard of no less than a dozen disappearances of men from a handful of different crime families. Men found beaten in gutters if they were found at all. Men with missing fingers or privates. This city wanted to send a message, and no district wanted their words, their anger, felt more than Daggertown.
Shortly after the travesty at the Pier, those members of the Staymos family who were sifted from the large yacht's workers met an incredibly grisly end.
Under Grecha's orders, obvious suit wearing members were marched barefoot a half mile from the water, were they were forced to dig their own graves, barehanded if needed. Half were given the option to live so long as they ended the lives of their comrades, often with the use of rusty pipes or metals they could find laying about.
When exactly half remained. The townsfolk who had escorted them coldly unleashed the lead of their own guns, or else promptly began to crowd around and beat those that survived.
What Renka found especially horrid, was that many Daggermen and women had apparently had their children follow along to watch this all unfold.
Morbid, but perhaps a necessary lesson in their hateful land.
Those members of the Staymos that escaped this fate by trying to blend in with the yacht's staff were eventually found, and in full view of the other families, had their arms and legs broken before being thrown into the sea to drown as they writhed in pain.
"How is she?" Grecha asked, walking up behind Renko.
She was trying to put up a strong front, but Renko could tell that the ancient elder was moving on fumes. Losing her eldest granddaughter, and in such a way, had taken a drastic toll on the wizened woman who now looked flimsy and haggard when she had once only been old.
"Can I ask if anyone else has seen to her body?"
"None," the Elder replied.
"It's been seven days since what happened, happened, Elder. Rigor mortis should have long since occurred, but everything I've seen indicates she's only just lost her life. If it weren't for the fact that I couldn't feel a pulse, I'd guess that she was sleeping. Then of course, there's the thin film of Nen around her body. Whose is it?"
"You don't know him…"
"I'll assume it's your residential repair man. You'd be surprised who does and doesn't know about the young man. From what I heard, he played a key role in saving the children. According to some, he and your granddau-"
"Who they are!" Gretcha snapped before recomposing herself, "...what they…wanted to be to each other, can now never come to pass. She is lost to him, just like she is lost to me…to all of us."
"Forgive me, Elder, I ought not have spoken so casually. Not when you've suffered so much," Renka replied with a slight bow.
"No, forgive me. I fear I'm not in the right mind. Just tell me, will her body be preserved for the funeral?"
"If that boy's ability doesn't let up, who's to say how long she'll keep from decomposing. With that said, I've done my work. Even should his ability dissipate, she'll look as immaculate as she does now when the time comes to give her her final goodbye."
"Thank you," Grecha said, rubbing her brows, "You'll find payment at my office."
"No no, consider this a favor from myself to a student of mine,"
Understanding seemed to dawn on Grecha's face as Renka turned to walk away.
"Thank you for your time then, embalmer," the elder said, "Please feel free to stay for the funeral."
"That won't be necessary, I rarely stay for these things. But do tell your repairman that should he ever need a job, I'd be happy to take him under my wing."
"I'll…pass it on."
With that, Renko made her way to the chapel door, ready to begin the long walk home. The Elder probably wouldn't pass on her message, and even if she did, students that old made for poor learners in her opinion.
Should she have stayed to see if Machi would appear?
No, she thought to herself, that ship had long since sailed.
As she made her way toward the town center, a necessary route out of town, she couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a dour yet energetic mood about the people.
"Black," she said to herself in realization. All the people were rushing to find black funeral garments, or at least something dark enough to be passable.
You poor girl. You really meant the world to these people.
It's never easy to describe how it feels to lose someone you love.
Simple words like devastating or broken don't have the appropriate depth needed to articulate the sheer emptiness of losing someone who, until just days ago, was a pillar of the community. Who's smile brightened your day. Whose presence was a constant comfort.
How do you describe the loss of a mother-figure, a role model, a goal to reach? How do you describe the loss of someone you hoped to be like, to grow into?
How could Sen describe the loss of her sister?
She couldn't. She could only blame herself.
It was eventually sussed out of the Zan-Mari's crew that Muska had been well known as someone who used poison bullets to deal with dissenters and dole out punishment.
It was probably the bullet that grazed Coco that eventually killed her. The bullet that had been meant for her. The bullet that her sister had saved her from.
Why had she been there? Would things have turned out differently had Josuke gone alone? What about the kids? Maybe Sen had slowed him down?
Her fault, her fault, her fault.
This was all her fault.
Deep down. Deep down she had wanted Coco gone because…because…she had envied her. Sen…had wanted something her sister had. Now she was gone, and it was all her fault.
Coco shouldn't have died…it should have been he-
*Knock!* *Knock!* *Knock!*
"Signora? Signora Sen? Bambina are you in there? I have prepared something to eat? Please, you must come out and eat just a little. For your strength, Birichina."
Tony. He had been staying with them for the past three days since the…the incident. Gran had promised to help him get back home in thanks for all he did on the Zan-Mari. Until then, the man had taken it upon himself to act as the Abelnite's chef, butler, and housecleaner.
Sen's stomach growled for something to eat. It was true she was hungry, but it was equally true she had no appetite. Somehow, it just felt wrong to eat so soon after her sister's passing. Cooking was something Coco did, after all.
"I…I'm not hungry," Sen lied.
"........"
"I mean it, please just go away."
"I will leave it next to your door, Signora. Please…eat it before it gets cold. I found a good deal on lobster in, how you say, the market? The zuppa di aragosta, it is to die for. If there is one thing we Napolini know, it is seafood and…and I will leave you alone now…"
It made Sen feel terrible to ignore the man. Here he was bringing her something to eat, and all she could do was tell him to leave her alone.
*Groooowwwwl*
Dear god she was hungry. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have just a little bit of what Tony had cooked up.
She made her way to her door, opening it just a smidge to find that the chef himself hadn't actually left. Instead, it seemed he had chosen to stay and wait for her to emerge like some sort of injured puppy that needed to be lured out. It would have been embarrassing for Sen had she had the strength to care.
"You know, Bambina, I also made ze bread. It would go famously with the soup, yes?"
Sen had noticed. It smelled wonderful.
It was all probably a plan to get her to stop moping in her room, which really wasn't his place to interfere in, but Sen didn't have the heart to tell the man off. He wasn't at fault for anything, after all, and was only trying to help, in his own way.
Deciding it wouldn't hurt to put just a little bit of food in her belly, Sen made her way toward the table before taking a seat. It felt empty, and not just because she was the only one sitting down. Coco wasn't there to scold her and ask if she had washed her hands. Gran was off taking care of funeral arrangements. And Josuke…Josuke was in Coco's room.
Watching him break down in the immediate aftermath of her sister's death had been soul rending. Watching him be dragged off her body, the haunted look in his eyes, as her grandmother pleaded with him to let go, that had been worse.
With no home, Josuke, like Tony, had been offered a place on one of the Abelnite couches. The next morning, Sen and the others had found him in Coco's room, just standing there. He hadn't slept on her bed, hadn't touched anything really. He just stood there, broken, a shell.
As Sen's eyes hovered over the door to her sister's room, she spotted another bowl of soup at its base. It looked like she wasn't the only one without an appetite.
"Has he eaten anything?"
"Signor Josuke? I'm afraid not…It may be better we leave him to himself. I suoi occhi sono gli stessi di mia madre."
"Huh?"
"Scusa. I mean to say his eyes. They are like my madre, my mother's eyes when my father died."
"Your father?"
"Sometimes there exists a, how you say, connessione between two people, la scintilla. When it is snuffed out. The light can leave a person."
"So the light left him?" Sen asked only somewhat grasping his words.
"Something like this, si. When my father pass, me and my sister mourn in our own way. But mi madre. She was, eh, sconvolto, how you say, shatter?"
"Can he be fixed?"
Could she?
"Il tempo guarisce tutte le ferite. Time will heal him, and you, and your nonna. I shall pray for this."
With those last words, Tony got up from his side of the table and left her to eat.
It was good. Better than good actually, great. The lobster was tender, but not unfirm, and the creamy soup warmed her empty belly to satisfaction. It was too bad she couldn't enjoy it.
Inexplicably, Sen got up from the table before making her way to Coco's room.
*Knock!* *Knock!*
"Josuke? Josuke are you in there? Tony made some soup and it's really good. You should…you should try some…please try some."
Only silence answered her.
"You know, I know that she meant, like, a lot to you and everything, but you're not the only one that's sad she's gone. I am too, you know. Grandma too, and everyone else."
Nothing.
" Please come out and say something, Josuke. I feel like everything is burning around me and I can't put out the fire."
Still no response.
"What do you want me to say! That I'm sorry!?" Sen screamed suddenly, voice full of heat and renewed energy. "Fine! I'm sorry! It's my fault, all my fault! It should have been me, are you happy!? Is that what you want to hear? That the bullet should have hit me! It should have, I should have been the one to die! I know that so speak up, please! Just don't leave me alone…please."
He never did answer her. Not even as she stood there for ten minutes, slumping to the floor.
She was sorry. She was so so sorry. All of this was her fault.
She must have just sat there for minutes before she felt the gentle yet firm hand of Tony on her shoulder.
"Please, Ms. Sen, aria fresca, let us away to the outside. It will do us both good, yes."
She didn't have the energy or will to fight him, and so demurely allowed herself to be led out to the front of the house.
It was cold, and the air smelled of rust, but at least the stars shone especially bright.
Coco would have thought it was beautiful out tonight, Sen thought sadly.
"Ms. Sen," Tony began, "this may sound rude, but would you, how you say, do me a favor."
"Huh? I mean I gue-"
"I would like it very much if you did not say such things ever again."
"Huh?"
"What you say to Signor Fix's door. That this tragedy was all your fault, assolutamente sciocco."
"B-But it was!" Sen nearly yelled, "I-If I had just been faster, if Coco hadn't pushed me away then-"
"Bambina, stolto! How dare you!"
Sen went silent then, struck stupid by the ferocity of his foreign words.
"Your sister save you because she love you! In the moment she dove for you, do you think she regret it? Folle!"
"But if I had been faster maybe we could have-"
"Maybe you get to her più veloce. Maybe by some miracle you even save her, and maybe you do not save me or little Leez. What if, what if, what if. We cannot change what has been done, and you bring your sister no joy by seeking to torture yourself, questo è vero."
"But I-"
"Before you seek to flay yourself once again. Let me say this," he said with a deep breath. "Grazie. Grazie per avermi salvato la vita. You chose…to save me and the piccola when it would have been easier to leave us to become as meat in the grinder. We owe our lives to you. That child has a future because of your bravery."
"Of course I saved you. I had to!"
"No child. Not had to, but did so. I am sure that your sister's heart esplosa, burst with joy when she saw the Ms. Leez, sano e salvo. Just as I am sure she must have been so proud to know it was you who save her."
"You think?"
"I know."
"You don't think she," Sen began, tears filling her eyes "…that she hated me?"
"Polpetta, I am not sure she could have hated you if she wanted to."
Sen rushed forth and grabbed the cook by his shirt before burying her face into his torso.
"There there, lascia uscire tutto. Cry until you can cry no more,"
And that's precisely what Sen did. For uncounted minutes she let loose every bit of grief she could muster from the tears that continued to flow but eventually did stop. For his part, Tony just stood there, a source of calm comfort, eventually leading his savior back into the house.
That night, though not easy, Sen finally did find the will to rest and a bit of the courage necessary to forgive herself, and face her sister one last time.
Gretcha watched as A'toni, or simply Tony as most called him, led Sen back into the house. She felt mildly guilty that it wasn't her there to comfort her granddaughter in the moment of her despair, but she had no doubt Sen would pull through, she was an Abelnite after all.
She had watched everything unfold from the roof of the three-story shared housing across the street as she had nursed a bottle of brandy. She wished she hadn't drunk so much as a youth, a single bottle was no longer sufficient to get her more than a little tipsy, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to fall flat on her face with her grief.
In all her musings, she had never thought she would live long enough to see one of her grandchildren buried, and was dealing with it in the only way she knew how, work.
Gretcha had thrown herself into arranging an appropriate funeral for Coco, something the entire town had eagerly gotten behind. Sometimes it never became apparent just how well a person was loved until they were gone, and Coco had been adored by all around her.
Everywhere she walked, people were preparing food, washing or stitching their Sunday best, or buying flowers. Daggertown was one of the smaller districts of Meteor city, but Gretcha had no doubt that at least 100,000 people would want to view the body. It was a logistical nightmare, the perfect project to get lost in.
After another hour, Gretcha hopped down from the roof of the housing, the forty-foot drop being as nothing to her spry old legs. She had put this off for long enough. Someone needed to talk to Josuke, and that someone was going to have to be her.
It was late, and to her relief, it seemed Sen had already turned in for the night.
When she finally made it to Coco's door, she found she could only stand there. She hadn't exactly prepared anything to say after all. What did one say in this kind of situation? Probably the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm going to try to open this door now," she called out, "and so help me if it's locked I will burn this house down, room and all. Do you hear me, Josuke?" There wasn't any heat in her words, but then she wasn't angry, yet.
To her relief, the knob turned easily enough, which meant she wouldn't have to use…that.
She didn't expect the smell of her granddaughter to hit her like a truck as she entered the room. She also wasn't sure what it was she would find. Josuke laying on Coco's bed? Josuke sitting on her desk? No, instead he was on the floor, back against Coco's bed frame.
His eyes didn't look like he had been crying, though it may have been that his tear ducts had long since dried out. Instead, they looked glassy and far away. Not even acknowledging her presence, it wasn't even like he was seeing into the distance so much as he was staring off into nothing.
"I suppose I'll just come right out and say it. We'll be burying Coco in three days. It's an appropriate time for everyone who wants to see her to pay their respects…."
Did that elicit a reaction? No.
"Of course, I won't force you to come," she continued before pausing, "but if you miss her burial, I'll bury you myself, boy." To accentuate her point, Gretcha pulled out from her robe something she had once carried as insurance, her [Strandman] doll. The very one she had used in conjunction with her colleagues to bring down the man before her.
That garnered the smallest fraction of attention from Josuke before his eyes returned to the void.
"Or at least," she continued, "that's what I've been thinking of doing. You'd probably like that wouldn't you. For me to play judge and jury against you, well too bad. I don't have it in me, and you don't deserve it," then, unceremoniously, Gretcha took the doll in both hands and snapped it down its wooden spine.
If she expected a reaction, she didn't get one. Instead she walked over to Coco's desk and took a seat not more than a few inches from Josuke.
"I'd like to tell you I know what you're going through, but I won't, cause I can't. If there's one thing you learn by living as long as I have, It's that everyone deals with this differently. Some who are like Sen, young, will be an emotional mess for a week, but she'll bounce back. Some like you, I imagine, will carry this forever. Good. I hope you never forget her. I hope her face haunts your dreams. I hope she poisones every woman for you. I hope you carry her in your soul forever…."
"There won't be anyone else," Josuke mumbled. Oh, now he could talk.
"Oh shut yer mouth, boy. Handsome young man like you? Of cours-"
"I said there won't be anyone else!"
"And I said, 'shut your mouth, boy!'" Gretcha snapped back.
A simmering silence drowned the two before the Abelnite matriarch found it in herself to talk again.
"Did you ever ask Coco about her mother? Actually don't bother answering, I'll take a wild guess that she never brought it up. I…" Gretcha struggled to find a beginning, "I didn't get along particularly well with my father. A controlling grouch of a man. Narcissistic, hard to listen to, and not at all pleasant company. I wouldn't say I hated him, but there weren't any waterworks when he passed. I could never forgive him for not approving of my husband, that's Coco's grandfather, you see.
We had maybe…fifteen years before I buried him too. I can still remember the day I found him on the pier, like a lost puppy…. Anyway, when Sharmie was born, I threw myself into raising her. My beautiful, sweet, infuriating, little devil of a daughter. All of Sen's spice, with only a pinch of Coco's sweetness. I loved the hell out of her.
Then she chose a man when she was only about a year younger than Coco…Rodric. Rat-bastard of a man. I didn't think he was good for her the second I saw him, but I thought maybe, just maybe, I was being a bit like the father I left behind. I let it happen. They move out, I hear things, things I don't like.
I send a message to him in private from time to time, and for a while, things quiet down. Then one day Sharmie shows up at my door, pregnant. Coco was maybe nine, maybe ten…and I tell Shar to stay. She does, and Sen is delivered, right in the front room, and I think to myself, 'yeah, I can take care of this, I can take care of them.' Except Rodric comes back and says he's changed.
I tell my Sharmie she'd be a fool to believe him…actually I say worse things. We both do. But she goes and…she doesn't come back," Gretch says with finality, "Murder suicide."
"I keep asking myself what I should have done back then. Stop them from meeting, becoming an item, or offed him early when I had the chance. I don't know. But if there's one thing I do know, it's that I am glad that she met him. I'm glad Coco and Sen were born, and I'm glad Coco met you, Josuke."
Their eyes met briefly as he silently processed her words.
"Josuke," Gretcha said, hopping off her chair, "I'm going to say something to you that you really don't want to hear." She walked slowly until she was in front of him, "I forgive you. We all do, every one of us."
The words seemed to crash onto him like a thousand pounds as his body trembled and his face scrunched with renewed agony.
"Really?" he weezed out, barely able to make out the word.
"Yes," she said, gently grabbing onto his head to bring into her chest. "Me, Sen, everyone forgives you."
In truth, there was nothing to absolve, but Elder Abelnite knew this was what the boy needed to hear.
"Even Coco, Josuke. Now you just need to find the strength to forgive yourself."
He wouldn't, at least not immediately. But for now, as she cradled him and felt tears soak into her cloak, Gretcha knew some kind of healing had begun.
(Three days later)
A'toni stood on a hill of rusted junk not far from the chapel. He had already paid his respects to the brave young teacher who had given her life for her people. It didn't feel appropriate that he should make himself a pest.
"Ho there, Tony!" a large man called out. It was Horso, a man A'toni had come to view as the resident everyman of Daggertown. He seemed to have his hand in every industry (if it could be called that) in the neighborhood, and was the go-to guy if you needed to see someone or acquire something.
The man had been kind enough to put a good portion of A'toni's colleagues up for a few weeks as they got settled into their new lives in Meteor City. He had even taken to employing two in the back kitchen of his bar, but others would have to make due with their own skills and luck.
For his part in the Staymos Incident, Gretcha had taken it upon herself to arrange a private ship to bring him, not home, that would have been too far, but somewhere he might be able to get in contact with a Napolini consulate.
It wasn't ingratiating news to his peers, or rather, former coworkers, that he would be allowed to leave while they had to stay, and A'toni thought it best he keep a respectful distance from them.
This land wasn't technically a country in the strictest sense, and thus, wasn't equip to take on the logistical task of helping those who had been shanghaied by Muska. As far as the people here were concerned, the fact that they were here meant that they had been thrown away, and in a sense they weren't wrong.
His friends would have to eek out new lives here while he…got to go home.
"How are you, Signor Horso," A'toni said dully.
"I, uh, I heard you had a less than pleasant phone call yesterday and wanted to check up on you to see how you were holding up. With things being how they are, I suppose I just wanted to make sure you had someone to check up on you."
I am not a child, you oaf!, is what A'toni wanted to say, though he settled for, "Thank you, Signor. Sto bene." He wasn't actually fine, but he was trying to be.
Yesterday Horso had finally gotten a friend of a friend of a guy he knew to finally lend A'toni a working cell phone, and had even been kind enough to pay the usage fee. The call however, had been like a slap to the face.
His mother was dead.
He had had to find this out after his third call home hadn't gone through and he instead called Franknando, a childhood friend who had also been their neighbor.
After expressing worry and many questions, Frank had solemnly delivered the grim news that A'toni's mother had died in her sleep almost a year ago. But that wasn't where the terrible news ended. Massima was missing, and had been missing for nearly a week after their mother's funeral. The restaurant, also their home, the only thing their father had passed on to them, had mysteriously gone up in flames with many suspecting arson.
After thanking Frank for taking care of funeral arrangements in his absence, A'toni hung up mid conversation and simply walked away as he brushed off any concern Horso expressed.
"Well I just want you to know that me and Grech, the ship we scheduled for ya will be here in a week. Decent thing, but sturdy. Captain on it'll get you where you need to go and…ah…I guess that's about it. I, uh-"
"Signor Horso," A'toni interrupted, "what are those people doing down there?" From this distance it seemed a figure that looked like Josuke had finally begun walking toward the church. Many who had still been outside the chapel immediately began to swarm the young man, their arms filled with white roses that they tried to push onto Josuke.
"They're ah, well…We have a tradition here. If someone dies and they were married, you give white roses to their wife or husband as a way of saying 'sorry for yer loss,' and so on."
"I did not know they were married,"
"They weren't," Horso replied, sadly, "but it's like, you know, the principle of the thing. To us, they may as well have been, and…..I guess this is our way of saying 'we're sorry'. 'We're sorry…and thank you,'"
No one understood. No one who hadn't been there could understand that what had happened to Kenny, Jin, Josie, Leez and the others wasn't something to be excited about. It hadn't been exciting having guns pointed at your face. It wasn't cool having to deal with villainous gangsters. It wasn't cool that Ms. A was dead.
Maybe that didn't mean as much to some of the other kids, but to Moss and the others who had been there, it wasn't something to look back on with anything else but shame and disgust.
He was weak, and because he was weak, Mr. Fix had had to come save them instead of Ms. A. To Moss, the memory of what had transpired was a constant reminder of his own inadequacy, and he dealt with those feelings the only way he knew how, aggression.
Two days after the Staymos Incident, Moss had gotten into no less than three fights with punk kids who had pestered him with unending questions about what had transpired.
It got so bad that eventually his mother spoke with Elder Gretcha who immediately put him under Father Donovan who himself tasked Moss with assisting throughout the funeral.
It had a calming effect, being so close to Ms. A. Watching so many people come to pay their respects had been soothing, with some visitors being allotted special visitation time with Coco, himself included, to say their goodbyes.
In the time he had worked here, Moss found he could hide behind the pulpit to listen to each of these private farewells, something he was doing that very moment. Was this wrong? Most definitely. Was it therapeutic? Absolutely.
Each of his friends who had been kidnapped gave a heartfelt farewell, but it was Leez's goodbye that had brought tears to Moss's eyes. She hadn't even stepped out of her house since they had returned to land, and must have been fighting her demons to make it here, right before Ms. A was to be buried.
If there was one person Moss couldn't forgive though, it was Fix. He hadn't shown up once since Ms. Coco's body had been displayed. Shouldn't he, the man Ms. A cherished, have been here every single day?
Moss had always been a little jealous of Josuke, since he himself had had a childish crush on Ms. A, like a dozen other boys from class. Yet he had always admired the man who had saved him in the badlands, and had thus given his silent approval to the odd courtship that had been betwixt the two.
That's it! Moss thought angrily, "If you don't show up you bastard, I swear I'm…"I'm gonna!-"
*Creeeeeeeak!*
The sound of another visitor immediately caused Moss to reign himself in.
Peeking out from a small crack in the platform he hid inside, his eyes widened in surprise.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeaGQIMOgO0
Josuke's feet felt heavy as he slowly walked over to the casket. The half seconds between each step seemed to drag on in his mind, like they were fighting against the truth displayed in front of him. He had thought he had worked through this, prepared himself mentally, but ready or not, he continued to walk forward.
There she was.
So beautiful.
She looked so serene, like at any moment her eyes would open and she would say "good morning," as she stretched and got out of bed.
But she wouldn't be waking up now, or ever again.
His whole life was there, in front of him. How long had it been since he first woke up in Meteor City. Two years now? He could barely remember the first few days when he was just a rabid animal. His most vivid memories were when he had met her. That day, and every day after, somehow, he had always made time to see her. Days in school as she privately tutored him in his spelling. Moments saying 'hello' and being forced to dinner with the Abelnites. It was all right there. In front of him.
When did he know he was in love with her? Maybe it hadn't been in a day, maybe it was all just one long journey from the moment she had shielded him. A journey they would never finish together now.
He just stood there, not even touching her, until he saw a hair out of place, and gently bent over to part it from her eye.
"Hey, Co. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I suppose…I suppose I just wasn't in the right mind, but I figured I should tell you. I'll be leaving soon."
No response came, though Josuke couldn't help but feel she was listening in a way.
"I'm going to, ah,....I'm sorry. You've probably heard me say that a lot, or maybe you've heard me think it, I just…I guess I wanted to say it at least one time to you."
There was a pause then, as Josuke seemed to mull over what exactly it was he wanted to say.
"I guess what I'm saying is that…There's no point in me staying here now that you're gone…"
"I love you," he finally added, "I'm sorry I didn't get to say it to you earlier. Every time I think about it, I wonder why I was so scared to say it all along. Maybe because I didn't think I was good enough, or maybe I was just scared. I don't know if you'd be angry with me for being so slow, but I…I guess I just wanted to tell you that, now that it's just the two of us.
Heh, you wouldn't believe it, but right before I got here, everyone outside gave me white roses. The audacity right?....It's like they were waiting for me. Like everyone was waiting for me," A tear down his cheek, "I'm sorry for making you wait, Coco."
He placed the bouquet of roses in her hand before stroking her cheek. Then after a second more, bent over to give her a peck on her lips.
"I'm sorry our first kiss was like that, and that I didn't ask. But some things you just can't control, you know?"
A moment of silence followed before he found it in himself to speak once more.
"I'm going to live, Coco. For you. For me. For us. I'll see it all for the both of us. I won't throw away this life. Not the life you loved."
With that, he slowly turned to walk away, but stopped after several steps.
"Moss, you can come out now. I was the last one."
"Y-You knew I was here?"
Josuke gave the timid boy a small smile as he came out of the pulpit. "Let's go Moss. Let's let her rest now…"
And so they did.
Shortly after, a train of people, Coco's closest friends and family, with many more in tow, carried her body to be buried in a special plot of land free of filth.
Poetically, as they lowered her body into the ground, what was already a strangely cloudy evening slowly began to rain, like the heavens themselves were saddened by the passing of Daggertown's daughter. And if the raindrops hid the tears people shed one last time. No one said anything.
(Later that evening)
There was a sort of after party that took place after the funeral. Josuke wasn't sure if he would have called it proper, but it was what it was. In a way, this was a way of celebrating Coco's life.
It stretched from the Abelnite household into the streets where a mini festival or block party was occurring.
Josuke spent part of the evening with the kids, and repaired a few things here and there. It seemed a cousin of Coco's, one Machi Komacine, had been there during the funeral, but chose to hide her presence and keep to herself. A gesture of respect to not take away attention from the Abelnites in mourning.
Now that the funeral proper had run its course, many had rushed to meet one of Meteor City's guardian deities in the flesh. That was just fine by Josuke, who wanted as much privacy as he could get, and was getting tired of the condolences he was receiving.
As it grew late. He found that his feet had somehow led him to Horso's bar. Closed, but apparently not locked.
Letting himself in, Josuke wasn't surprised to see Milda and Horso behind the counter, but he was surprised to see Gretcha nursing a cup of whiskey, box on her lap.
"Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear," Milda exclaimed.
"Hey there ma'boy, how you holding up? We were just talking about you," Horso added.
Gretcha for her part just gave him a look before nodding toward the stool beside her. An invitation from her if ever there was one.
Walking toward the counter, Josuke spotted Sen sitting at the far corner table, munching on whatever delicious smell was coming from the kitchen. As soon as she saw him her head turned away with a sneer. He'd have to apologize for ignoring her later.
As he sat down to get comfortable, a small shot glass was placed in front of him, as well as a heaping bowl of spaghetti. God it smelt amazing. How long had it been since he had sat down to eat?
"Eyyy, Signor Fix, è bello vederti!" A voice from the kitchen exclaimed. It was A'toni.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Josuke. The man's the best cook I've ever seen, but won't let us hire him." Milda said.
"Leave it," Horso grunted, like he had had this conversation dozens of times in the last few days, "He'll be heading off in a week."
"Speaking of which," Gretcha interjected, "Josuke…when are you planning to leave?"
That seemed to leave everyone save for Horso stunned. Even Josuke was mildly surprised as he hadn't exactly been planning to share his plans.
"How'd you know?"
"You don't get to live as long as I have and not develop a sixth sense for these things, you dunderhead. I'll ask again, when are you planning on leav-"
*Crash!*
The sound of silverware breaking on the floor caused everyone to turn their heads toward the back of the bar. Where Sen was now standing up, a look of panic and anger in her eyes.
"You're going!" She exclaimed.
"Pick that up right now, Sen!" Gretcha yelled, but her granddaughter's fury was not to be quelled.
"You…YOU BASTARD!!!" She screamed before storming out the door.
Josuke made to go after her, but was pulled down by the Elder Abelnite's hand.
"Leave her," Gretcha said, "if that brat wants to throw a temper tantrum, let her."
"But-"
"I said, 'leave her!'"
Josuke sat bag down guiltily. He'd have to talk to her privately later.
"I'm sorry about your plate, Horso."
She motioned toward her pocket, but Horso waved any notion of payment away.
"Where are you planning on going?" Gretcha continued, her words almost an interrogation.
"Don't know yet. Figured I'd just pick a direction and leave."
"That easy for you, huh? God what I wouldn't give to be young and stupid. All the time in the world to be an idiot."
"Did you ask me to sit down just to insult me?" Josuke asked, exasperated.
"You've got no plan, no home, probably no money that hasn't burned. What is it you're planning on doing, boy?"
"Well if you must know, I'm…going to try to figure out where I came from. You happy, you old bat?"
"With what leads, Josuke? You're just going to pick a direction and run around like a chicken without its head, dumbass."
"Well," Josuke began, fighting to keep down his ire, "I suppose I'll just cross that bridge when I get-"
"Jappon," she interrupted.
"What?"
"Does it sound familiar to you?" Gretcha asked.
Josuke mulled over her words for a second before realizing, astonished, that the word did in fact sound familiar. In the deepest recesses of his mind, it sounded like the word of a word that he should know.
"I…think so?" He finally replied.
"I thought it might."
"What does it mean?"
"It's a country, one I've had the strongest hunch you came from," Gretcha said nursing her drink.
"Wait," Josuke exclaimed, "you've known where I come from this long and didn't say anything!"
"No," Gretcha corrected, "I said, I've had a hunch that's where you've come from."
"And you didn't say anything?"
"What would it have mattered? Would you have swum there? I doubt they'd have taken you even if you could."
She wasn't wrong, but the way she was acting so nonchalant about it was grating.
"Signor Fix," Tony said, having come out of the kitchen, "Jappon is a beautiful country, but Signora Abelnito, she is not wrong. It is a dangerous country right now."
"I don't get it."
"Back when I was home, I would sometimes see on the news. Jappon is very isolate country. Right now, they, how you say, non voglio gli stranieri. Don't. Want. Foreign."
"Believe it or not, Josuke," Horso began, "we aren't completely cut off from the world here. Some news does come from time to time, and right now, I doubt they'd take anyone who doesn't have a birth certificate and passport. For sure you'd need both to even consider getting a visa,"
"President Funi Barentain is a nationalist who's platform has been 'Strength through Isolation'. The radicals of his party don't want anyone who doesn't have a drop of Japponese blood in the country, even as tourists," Milda added. "Even if you are Japponese, you'd have to do more than just look the part to be accepted."
"You probably are," Gretcha said, "the way you talk, the words I sometimes heard you speak before we taught you the common tongue. You're just like him, my husband."
"Your husband was Japponese?" Milda asked, astonished.
"That he was. He never spoke about it, and kept the worst details to himself, but years ago, he was driven out of his home by the Yakuza. The Japponese mafia. Somehow though, he found his way to me," she said, reaching into her coat. She brought out a photo, holding it up before placing it on the counter for all to see.
It was a black and white picture of Coco, but wearing black leather and lipstick. Her hair was spiked, and she sat behind a young man with a dark familiar uniform on a motorcycle. The youth had a stick in his mouth and looked like a hooligan, and in Josuke's opinion, his pompadour was too large and greasy.
"Wow," Josuke muttered, "so Coco had a wild sid-"
"Thats me you, dolt!" Gretcha snapped, smacking him on the head. "And that's my deceased husband, Goro."
"I…see,"
"The way you talk, the way you walk, Josuke. You're just like him."
He chose to take that as a compliment.
"Josuke," she continued, reaching for a box next to her that he hadn't noticed, "there's something I want you to have," She placed the white cardboard on the bar counter before blowing off a significant amount of dust from its cover. Inside was a black cloth, or rather, several pieces of folded dark clothing.
With some fanfare, she unfurled the clothes, shaking off the bits of dust that had accumulated throughout the years. Josuke realized that it was the same clothing that her husband had worn in the picture. A large black Bancho coat and slacks that were also school uniforms.
Wait. How had he known that?
"My husband came from a town called, Sendai-Morio. This was the school uniform he used to wear before his family business went under and he was forced to come here. They were the nicest things he had. He never could throw them away…I want you to have it."
"I-I couldn't, Mrs. A, I-"
"I said, 'take it,' in fact, change into it right now!"
She was tipsy, and her tone brooked no argument, so rather than argue, Josuke took a deep breath and obeyed.
As he walked back from the bathroom, he was greeted by the flirtation whistle of Milda, as well as the opproving nods of both Tony, and Horso. Gretcha looked like she was looking at a ghost. And Josuke? Josuke had to admit that the clothes felt like they fit surprisingly well, and he didn't just mean by way of size.
"I also felt I should give you this," Gretcha said, reaching into her coat.
She brought out a golden heart that she tossed to him. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a pin.
"Handmade, I think. Coco probably worked on it all night for a month for your birthday."
Josuke didn't have a birthday. What she was referring to was the anniversary of Coco and his meeting. When she had stood her ground against her own grandmother to give him a chance to live his life.
Though the weight of memory made it heavy in his hands, rather than sulk, Josuke immediately pinned the heart to his collar.
"Now there's a strapping young lad," Horso said to everyone's agreement.
"Josuke," Gretcha said, her voice taking on a strangely serious tone, "There's probably no conventionally easy way to enter Jappon, but let me ask, 'do you want to go?' I won't stop you from leaving, but I do think you're more likely to find any clues about who you are over there."
"I am. Ever since you mentioned it, I feel like if I go there I might just be able to figure things out. So even if I have to break the law, that's where I'll be going."
"You won't have to," Gretcha said matter of factly, "....well you probably won't have to."
Oh for the love of, "What the hell do you mean old lady! First you say it's impossible, now you don't even know?!" Josuke was getting sick of this.
"I said there's no conventional way for you to get in, stupid! But there are workarounds to this sort of thing!"
"Wait a minute," Horso said, understanding seeming to dawn on the old man's face, "you can't mean…"
"I do…"
"Will one of you just tell me what's going on!" Josuke nearly screamed.
"Josuke," Gretcha said grimly, "the only way for you to enter Jappon….is to…BECOME A HUNTER!"
Silence. Everyone looked at her shocked. Horso, in solemn understanding, shook his head in agreement. Milda covered her mouth. Even Tony seemed put out by the statement. An air of seriousness filled the void of their conversation as everyone measured the weight of her words.
…….
…..
…
.
"Okay," Josuke finally said, "But what does hunting deer have to do with getting into Jappon…"
There was a sudden crash as Josuke's seeming stupidity nearly knocked everyone from where they stood or sat.
"Oh, Josuke,"
"I guess Coco didn't teach you everything,"
"Dunderhead,"
"This boy…"
"Non hai preso i voti migliori a scuola, vero?"
"Will someone please explain to me what you're all talking about."
"Not a hunter like someone who hunts animals, Josuke, though I guess they do that too. A Hunter from the Hunter Association," Milda explained.
"Oh right, the Hunter Association…what's that?"
Groaning in unison, it was Gretcha who continued to fill the void of his knowledge, "The Hunter Association, Josuke, is an independent non-government affiliated Global organization dedicated to uncovering the mysteries of the world, or some hogwash like that. They're old enough, have enough pull, and enough money, that their members are some of the wealthiest people in the world. They have such prestige, members are almost never barred from entering any but the most isolated nations. Identity? Passport? You won't need any of that if you have a Hunter's License. Hell, they'll probably make you one of each. Getting one will open all of the doors this world has to offer for you."
"Why doesn't everyone just become a Hunter then?"
There was another unified groan by his friends as if he had said something else incredibly dumb.
"Amico, Josuke. One does not just become a Hunter. They are not just prestigious and wealthy, but picky, si. In my youth, I dreamed of becoming a Gourmet Hunter. To travel the world, and try every dish, discover new flavors"
"Tony's right, Joe," Horso added, "They don't just pick anyone. Only the best of the best in the entire world become Hunters. I've heard that some years, they turn down tens of thousands of applicants, or just don't accept anyone."
"He can do it," Gretcha said, finishing her drink with one large swig, "he will do it. There's no better time."
"What do you mean?"
"That damn association knowns that we know that they know about us, and what we're about *hick*, sometimes they send boats here to scout for potential recruits, and sometimes, if me or any of the other Elders thinks someone has what it takes, we give them one or two *hick*. I already called the boat to pick up Tony, as a favor for what he did, but if I give you the password. He'll take you to another boat that'll sail you to the exam. Thashhh how you'll begum a *hick* a Hunter, Joji"
She was drunk, or near enough there.
"It's true, Josuke," Milda said, "this'll be your best shot at getting into Jappon. I mean, without breaking any laws."
"Mi scusi, Signora Abelnite. Would you be willing to extend this opportunity to myself?" Tony asked.
"Zure *hick*, why not."
"Wait a minute," Horso said, "I thought you were going home."
"There is nothing for me there, not anymore. And nothing to keep me here. Perhaps destiny has placed me here just for this very moment."
"Are you sure," Milda asked.
"Si, la signora."
"So I guess we're all set then?" Josuke said, the question being more a statement than anything else.
"Si"
"I guess ya are…"
"Oh Josuke, this is all happening so fast."
"Zzzzzzzz Zzzzzz"
They all looked down to see the district elder flat on her face, now asleep.
"I'll take her home," Josuke said. It looked like there was going to be a lot to prepare for in the coming days.
(Eight Days later)
Today was a special day. Josuke had spent most of it either doing last minute repairs around town, or declining food and gifts from familiar faces. It seemed everyone wanted to give him something, a toy, jenni, a memento. He had to deny most of it as he was planning on traveling light. Money and transportation had been arranged by Grecha, and so anything else felt like he was taking advantage of people.
He did however take time to meet with the kids. Both those that had been kidnapped, but also those he had learned alongside.
He had even taken special care to visit Leez, who was still traumatized from her ordeal. To his surprise, the timid thing was only too happy to see him, and they must have spoken for an hour about nonsense.
But time waited for no man. And as much as he wished he could have made it stretch longer, the evening came, as did his boat.
It was a large steamboat, the kind that only carried a few dozen people at most. Outfitted to sail the oceans blue.
"We'll miss you, Josuke," Horso said, one of nearly a hundred people who had come to see him off. It seemed his imminent departure hadn't been a very well kept secret.
"I'll show you how manly I've become when you come back!" Moss declared.
"You take care of yourself, sonny," the old vegetable seller said.
And so on and so on.
Sen didn't show. Not once. Ever since she had learned of his departure in Horso's bar, she had done everything to ignore or avoid Josuke. That was only fair, he should have been more empathetic to her earlier. He'd find some way to make amends, one day.
"I'm sorry she's not here, Josuke," Gretcha said, "I'll whack her good when I see her, but these things happen. She took the news especially hard."
*Hoooooooooonk Hooooooooonk!*
The sound of the ship's sirens filled the air as a man stepped toward the deck stairs, waiting for all two of the scheduled passengers.
If there was a time to depart, it was now.
"Signor, I can take our bags to the ship if you want to finish saying goodbye." Tony offered.
"Nah, it's fine," Josuke replied, "It's one bag, and it's about time we go,"
As he turned away, he was surprised to feel small boney fingers grab his hand. It was Gretcha, her face full of tears, mucus running down her nose. He had never seen her look like this, and so suddenly. Was she crying for him?
"You have to come back," She began painfully, "okay?"
"I-"
"The world threw you away to us. It can't take you from us, understood? You have to come back, or Coco will be lonely, you get it? I'm, I gonna, I mean I'll-"
"I'll miss you too, Gran," Josuke finished, bending down to give her one last hug.
"And you'll tell us all kinds of stories," someone shouted.
"And bring us souvenirs," a child added.
He wanted to give everyone one last farewell, but knew he couldn't, and so by some miracle, pulled himself from the only family he could remember. The ones he had been making this entire time.
"I will, everyone. I'll come back…one day."
He and Tony made their way to the ship then, the cries of joy and sadness, tears and congratulations in their wake.
"You are?" asked the deckhand, clipboard in hand.
"A'toni Vultore Miguelo Zeppeli-Reynardo," Tony replied.
"Riiiiiiight. Check. Which must make you, Joe. Joe Fix? Sir?"
"No," Josuke said, "Put me down as Josuke. Josuke Joestar."
It wasn't his name. But now more than ever, it seemed to fit.
"Fine. Josuke Joestar. Check. Now if you two will follow me, I'll show you to your room. Now there are some rules to keep in mind of while we're sailing and—"
Josuke tuned the man out. Instead, as the sailor led Tony inside, Josuke stayed on deck to watch his people send him off. Even as the ship began to move and they became smaller and smaller in the distance, their bodies melding into the scenery.
They really were his people, he realized. Whatever Jappon or this Hunter Association had in store, this was his home, and one day, he would return.
"Until we meet again, everyone."
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZD1N7Nl9MHE
I'd like to thank Casey Affleck for his portrayal of Lee Chandler in the movie Manchester by the Sea. It's what gave me the inspiration to finish this chapter. The movie, one of my all time favorites, is renowned for its portrayal of grief, and how not just Lee, but various people deal with tragedy. But I'll leave that alone. Ahem….
Hello everyone. So we've come to the end of not this chapter, but to the arc as a whole. I'm naming this arc, the Meteorigins Arc, and will slowly change chapter names to reflect this throughout various platforms. To all twenty or so people who have read this, thank you. I'd like to say I'll get started right away, but don't want to over commit.
Announcement Time. This will no longer strictly be a JJBA X HxH crossover, so much as it will be an Araki X Togashi crossover. To be specific, the main world will be Hunter X Hunter, but I will be using a variety of characters from both mangaka's works. You'll just have to wait and see who they are and how I mesh them into the story. It won't be too confusing, I swear.
Anyway, I'd very much appreciate a review or something. I can't tell you how much it meant to read the one or two new comments from some stranger on FanFiction who had somehow stumbled onto this story.
Speaking of FanFiction. If you are a reader only there, try to find this on my spacebattles platform. The reason for this is that I'll have inserted appropriate music into sections of the chapter to reflect both the mood, and just to give ourselves some outro music.
I'll also be posting a short informational where I talk about certain characters like Coco, Sen, and Grecha, where I explain who inspired them, or how I came up with names, etc. So if you're interested in that, it will be on FanFiction, but not with pictures. I plan on adding pictures on other platforms that allow this.
Anyway thanks for seeing the end of this journey with me and……
Oh my goodness everyone……
I might not be done just yet….
What's this?
(Two days later)
It was morning on the Calhoon, the steamboat that would take Josuke and Tony to their destination, and both had been sleeping in, when both were awoken to furious raps on the door.
*Knock Knock Knock!*
"Get your asses up! You both have a lot of explaining to do!"
"Get a free ride out of us? Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Lets just toss them, captain?"
"Shut yer mouths and get back to work" All of ye!"
*Knock Knock Knock!*
Josuke and Tony both got out of their beds groggily, not quite understanding what had happened. Opening the door, they were met by the sight of a dozen burly men who looked ready to strangle them both.
"The hell?"
"Capitano, have we done something wrong?"
"Follow me," the old man ordered, his men looking like they were ready to pounce.
As they made their way to the deck, Josuke couldn't help but have a terrible feeling something was about to happen.
In the middle of the deck, the other half of the crew was crowding around…something.
"Git yer fat arses out of the way, ye dogs. Now!"
As his men moved to obey their captains orders, Josuke's heart fell into his stomach.
"Oh, Bambina…"
There she was. Tied up and placed in a barrel. Azalean hair pushed back by goggles. Face dirty with dust and grease. No wonder she had been avoiding him all this time. She must have been planning this from the moment she ran from the bar.
Coy eyes avoided his own. A childish face full of pride that she had made it this far, never mind the heart attack Grecha was probably having.
"Anything to say fer yerself ya little stowaway!"
"Uh, hey Josuke. So you were on this ship too?"
"Oh goddamnit! Seeeeeeeeeeen!"
Next time on Diamond Hunter. Old and familiar faces abound. The Hunter Exam begins! Or at least the path to it…
The Staymos Incident, as it was now referenced, was something of a wake-up call for the people of Meteor City. Clearly the lull in violence between citizens and criminal had made the latter sick with complacency as to the proper behaviors expected, and for the citizens who suffered or looked for an excuse to vent their frustrations, the medicine was retaliation.
Not more than a week had passed since the Zan-Mari had been brought back to port, and Renko had heard of no less than a dozen disappearances of men from a handful of different crime families. Men found beaten in gutters if they were found at all. Men with missing fingers or privates. This city wanted to send a message, and no district wanted their words, their anger, felt more than Daggertown.
Shortly after the travesty at the Pier, those members of the Staymos family who were sifted from the large yacht's workers met an incredibly grisly end.
Under Grecha's orders, obvious suit wearing members were marched barefoot a half mile from the water, were they were forced to dig their own graves, barehanded if needed. Half were given the option to live so long as they ended the lives of their comrades, often with the use of rusty pipes or metals they could find laying about.
When exactly half remained. The townsfolk who had escorted them coldly unleashed the lead of their own guns, or else promptly began to crowd around and beat those that survived.
What Renka found especially horrid, was that many Daggermen and women had apparently had their children follow along to watch this all unfold.
Morbid, but perhaps a necessary lesson in their hateful land.
Those members of the Staymos that escaped this fate by trying to blend in with the yacht's staff were eventually found, and in full view of the other families, had their arms and legs broken before being thrown into the sea to drown as they writhed in pain.
"How is she?" Grecha asked, walking up behind Renko.
She was trying to put up a strong front, but Renko could tell that the ancient elder was moving on fumes. Losing her eldest granddaughter, and in such a way, had taken a drastic toll on the wizened woman who now looked flimsy and haggard when she had once only been old.
"Can I ask if anyone else has seen to her body?"
"None," the Elder replied.
"It's been seven days since what happened, happened, Elder. Rigor mortis should have long since occurred, but everything I've seen indicates she's only just lost her life. If it weren't for the fact that I couldn't feel a pulse, I'd guess that she was sleeping. Then of course, there's the thin film of Nen around her body. Whose is it?"
"You don't know him…"
"I'll assume it's your residential repair man. You'd be surprised who does and doesn't know about the young man. From what I heard, he played a key role in saving the children. According to some, he and your granddau-"
"Who they are!" Gretcha snapped before recomposing herself, "...what they…wanted to be to each other, can now never come to pass. She is lost to him, just like she is lost to me…to all of us."
"Forgive me, Elder, I ought not have spoken so casually. Not when you've suffered so much," Renka replied with a slight bow.
"No, forgive me. I fear I'm not in the right mind. Just tell me, will her body be preserved for the funeral?"
"If that boy's ability doesn't let up, who's to say how long she'll keep from decomposing. With that said, I've done my work. Even should his ability dissipate, she'll look as immaculate as she does now when the time comes to give her her final goodbye."
"Thank you," Grecha said, rubbing her brows, "You'll find payment at my office."
"No no, consider this a favor from myself to a student of mine,"
Understanding seemed to dawn on Grecha's face as Renka turned to walk away.
"Thank you for your time then, embalmer," the elder said, "Please feel free to stay for the funeral."
"That won't be necessary, I rarely stay for these things. But do tell your repairman that should he ever need a job, I'd be happy to take him under my wing."
"I'll…pass it on."
With that, Renko made her way to the chapel door, ready to begin the long walk home. The Elder probably wouldn't pass on her message, and even if she did, students that old made for poor learners in her opinion.
Should she have stayed to see if Machi would appear?
No, she thought to herself, that ship had long since sailed.
As she made her way toward the town center, a necessary route out of town, she couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a dour yet energetic mood about the people.
"Black," she said to herself in realization. All the people were rushing to find black funeral garments, or at least something dark enough to be passable.
You poor girl. You really meant the world to these people.
x.X.x
It's never easy to describe how it feels to lose someone you love.
Simple words like devastating or broken don't have the appropriate depth needed to articulate the sheer emptiness of losing someone who, until just days ago, was a pillar of the community. Who's smile brightened your day. Whose presence was a constant comfort.
How do you describe the loss of a mother-figure, a role model, a goal to reach? How do you describe the loss of someone you hoped to be like, to grow into?
How could Sen describe the loss of her sister?
She couldn't. She could only blame herself.
It was eventually sussed out of the Zan-Mari's crew that Muska had been well known as someone who used poison bullets to deal with dissenters and dole out punishment.
It was probably the bullet that grazed Coco that eventually killed her. The bullet that had been meant for her. The bullet that her sister had saved her from.
Why had she been there? Would things have turned out differently had Josuke gone alone? What about the kids? Maybe Sen had slowed him down?
Her fault, her fault, her fault.
This was all her fault.
Deep down. Deep down she had wanted Coco gone because…because…she had envied her. Sen…had wanted something her sister had. Now she was gone, and it was all her fault.
Coco shouldn't have died…it should have been he-
*Knock!* *Knock!* *Knock!*
"Signora? Signora Sen? Bambina are you in there? I have prepared something to eat? Please, you must come out and eat just a little. For your strength, Birichina."
Tony. He had been staying with them for the past three days since the…the incident. Gran had promised to help him get back home in thanks for all he did on the Zan-Mari. Until then, the man had taken it upon himself to act as the Abelnite's chef, butler, and housecleaner.
Sen's stomach growled for something to eat. It was true she was hungry, but it was equally true she had no appetite. Somehow, it just felt wrong to eat so soon after her sister's passing. Cooking was something Coco did, after all.
"I…I'm not hungry," Sen lied.
"........"
"I mean it, please just go away."
"I will leave it next to your door, Signora. Please…eat it before it gets cold. I found a good deal on lobster in, how you say, the market? The zuppa di aragosta, it is to die for. If there is one thing we Napolini know, it is seafood and…and I will leave you alone now…"
It made Sen feel terrible to ignore the man. Here he was bringing her something to eat, and all she could do was tell him to leave her alone.
*Groooowwwwl*
Dear god she was hungry. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have just a little bit of what Tony had cooked up.
She made her way to her door, opening it just a smidge to find that the chef himself hadn't actually left. Instead, it seemed he had chosen to stay and wait for her to emerge like some sort of injured puppy that needed to be lured out. It would have been embarrassing for Sen had she had the strength to care.
"You know, Bambina, I also made ze bread. It would go famously with the soup, yes?"
Sen had noticed. It smelled wonderful.
It was all probably a plan to get her to stop moping in her room, which really wasn't his place to interfere in, but Sen didn't have the heart to tell the man off. He wasn't at fault for anything, after all, and was only trying to help, in his own way.
Deciding it wouldn't hurt to put just a little bit of food in her belly, Sen made her way toward the table before taking a seat. It felt empty, and not just because she was the only one sitting down. Coco wasn't there to scold her and ask if she had washed her hands. Gran was off taking care of funeral arrangements. And Josuke…Josuke was in Coco's room.
Watching him break down in the immediate aftermath of her sister's death had been soul rending. Watching him be dragged off her body, the haunted look in his eyes, as her grandmother pleaded with him to let go, that had been worse.
With no home, Josuke, like Tony, had been offered a place on one of the Abelnite couches. The next morning, Sen and the others had found him in Coco's room, just standing there. He hadn't slept on her bed, hadn't touched anything really. He just stood there, broken, a shell.
As Sen's eyes hovered over the door to her sister's room, she spotted another bowl of soup at its base. It looked like she wasn't the only one without an appetite.
"Has he eaten anything?"
"Signor Josuke? I'm afraid not…It may be better we leave him to himself. I suoi occhi sono gli stessi di mia madre."
"Huh?"
"Scusa. I mean to say his eyes. They are like my madre, my mother's eyes when my father died."
"Your father?"
"Sometimes there exists a, how you say, connessione between two people, la scintilla. When it is snuffed out. The light can leave a person."
"So the light left him?" Sen asked only somewhat grasping his words.
"Something like this, si. When my father pass, me and my sister mourn in our own way. But mi madre. She was, eh, sconvolto, how you say, shatter?"
"Can he be fixed?"
Could she?
"Il tempo guarisce tutte le ferite. Time will heal him, and you, and your nonna. I shall pray for this."
With those last words, Tony got up from his side of the table and left her to eat.
It was good. Better than good actually, great. The lobster was tender, but not unfirm, and the creamy soup warmed her empty belly to satisfaction. It was too bad she couldn't enjoy it.
Inexplicably, Sen got up from the table before making her way to Coco's room.
*Knock!* *Knock!*
"Josuke? Josuke are you in there? Tony made some soup and it's really good. You should…you should try some…please try some."
Only silence answered her.
"You know, I know that she meant, like, a lot to you and everything, but you're not the only one that's sad she's gone. I am too, you know. Grandma too, and everyone else."
Nothing.
" Please come out and say something, Josuke. I feel like everything is burning around me and I can't put out the fire."
Still no response.
"What do you want me to say! That I'm sorry!?" Sen screamed suddenly, voice full of heat and renewed energy. "Fine! I'm sorry! It's my fault, all my fault! It should have been me, are you happy!? Is that what you want to hear? That the bullet should have hit me! It should have, I should have been the one to die! I know that so speak up, please! Just don't leave me alone…please."
He never did answer her. Not even as she stood there for ten minutes, slumping to the floor.
She was sorry. She was so so sorry. All of this was her fault.
She must have just sat there for minutes before she felt the gentle yet firm hand of Tony on her shoulder.
"Please, Ms. Sen, aria fresca, let us away to the outside. It will do us both good, yes."
She didn't have the energy or will to fight him, and so demurely allowed herself to be led out to the front of the house.
It was cold, and the air smelled of rust, but at least the stars shone especially bright.
Coco would have thought it was beautiful out tonight, Sen thought sadly.
"Ms. Sen," Tony began, "this may sound rude, but would you, how you say, do me a favor."
"Huh? I mean I gue-"
"I would like it very much if you did not say such things ever again."
"Huh?"
"What you say to Signor Fix's door. That this tragedy was all your fault, assolutamente sciocco."
"B-But it was!" Sen nearly yelled, "I-If I had just been faster, if Coco hadn't pushed me away then-"
"Bambina, stolto! How dare you!"
Sen went silent then, struck stupid by the ferocity of his foreign words.
"Your sister save you because she love you! In the moment she dove for you, do you think she regret it? Folle!"
"But if I had been faster maybe we could have-"
"Maybe you get to her più veloce. Maybe by some miracle you even save her, and maybe you do not save me or little Leez. What if, what if, what if. We cannot change what has been done, and you bring your sister no joy by seeking to torture yourself, questo è vero."
"But I-"
"Before you seek to flay yourself once again. Let me say this," he said with a deep breath. "Grazie. Grazie per avermi salvato la vita. You chose…to save me and the piccola when it would have been easier to leave us to become as meat in the grinder. We owe our lives to you. That child has a future because of your bravery."
"Of course I saved you. I had to!"
"No child. Not had to, but did so. I am sure that your sister's heart esplosa, burst with joy when she saw the Ms. Leez, sano e salvo. Just as I am sure she must have been so proud to know it was you who save her."
"You think?"
"I know."
"You don't think she," Sen began, tears filling her eyes "…that she hated me?"
"Polpetta, I am not sure she could have hated you if she wanted to."
Sen rushed forth and grabbed the cook by his shirt before burying her face into his torso.
"There there, lascia uscire tutto. Cry until you can cry no more,"
And that's precisely what Sen did. For uncounted minutes she let loose every bit of grief she could muster from the tears that continued to flow but eventually did stop. For his part, Tony just stood there, a source of calm comfort, eventually leading his savior back into the house.
That night, though not easy, Sen finally did find the will to rest and a bit of the courage necessary to forgive herself, and face her sister one last time.
x.X.x
Gretcha watched as A'toni, or simply Tony as most called him, led Sen back into the house. She felt mildly guilty that it wasn't her there to comfort her granddaughter in the moment of her despair, but she had no doubt Sen would pull through, she was an Abelnite after all.
She had watched everything unfold from the roof of the three-story shared housing across the street as she had nursed a bottle of brandy. She wished she hadn't drunk so much as a youth, a single bottle was no longer sufficient to get her more than a little tipsy, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to fall flat on her face with her grief.
In all her musings, she had never thought she would live long enough to see one of her grandchildren buried, and was dealing with it in the only way she knew how, work.
Gretcha had thrown herself into arranging an appropriate funeral for Coco, something the entire town had eagerly gotten behind. Sometimes it never became apparent just how well a person was loved until they were gone, and Coco had been adored by all around her.
Everywhere she walked, people were preparing food, washing or stitching their Sunday best, or buying flowers. Daggertown was one of the smaller districts of Meteor city, but Gretcha had no doubt that at least 100,000 people would want to view the body. It was a logistical nightmare, the perfect project to get lost in.
After another hour, Gretcha hopped down from the roof of the housing, the forty-foot drop being as nothing to her spry old legs. She had put this off for long enough. Someone needed to talk to Josuke, and that someone was going to have to be her.
It was late, and to her relief, it seemed Sen had already turned in for the night.
When she finally made it to Coco's door, she found she could only stand there. She hadn't exactly prepared anything to say after all. What did one say in this kind of situation? Probably the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm going to try to open this door now," she called out, "and so help me if it's locked I will burn this house down, room and all. Do you hear me, Josuke?" There wasn't any heat in her words, but then she wasn't angry, yet.
To her relief, the knob turned easily enough, which meant she wouldn't have to use…that.
She didn't expect the smell of her granddaughter to hit her like a truck as she entered the room. She also wasn't sure what it was she would find. Josuke laying on Coco's bed? Josuke sitting on her desk? No, instead he was on the floor, back against Coco's bed frame.
His eyes didn't look like he had been crying, though it may have been that his tear ducts had long since dried out. Instead, they looked glassy and far away. Not even acknowledging her presence, it wasn't even like he was seeing into the distance so much as he was staring off into nothing.
"I suppose I'll just come right out and say it. We'll be burying Coco in three days. It's an appropriate time for everyone who wants to see her to pay their respects…."
Did that elicit a reaction? No.
"Of course, I won't force you to come," she continued before pausing, "but if you miss her burial, I'll bury you myself, boy." To accentuate her point, Gretcha pulled out from her robe something she had once carried as insurance, her [Strandman] doll. The very one she had used in conjunction with her colleagues to bring down the man before her.
That garnered the smallest fraction of attention from Josuke before his eyes returned to the void.
"Or at least," she continued, "that's what I've been thinking of doing. You'd probably like that wouldn't you. For me to play judge and jury against you, well too bad. I don't have it in me, and you don't deserve it," then, unceremoniously, Gretcha took the doll in both hands and snapped it down its wooden spine.
If she expected a reaction, she didn't get one. Instead she walked over to Coco's desk and took a seat not more than a few inches from Josuke.
"I'd like to tell you I know what you're going through, but I won't, cause I can't. If there's one thing you learn by living as long as I have, It's that everyone deals with this differently. Some who are like Sen, young, will be an emotional mess for a week, but she'll bounce back. Some like you, I imagine, will carry this forever. Good. I hope you never forget her. I hope her face haunts your dreams. I hope she poisones every woman for you. I hope you carry her in your soul forever…."
"There won't be anyone else," Josuke mumbled. Oh, now he could talk.
"Oh shut yer mouth, boy. Handsome young man like you? Of cours-"
"I said there won't be anyone else!"
"And I said, 'shut your mouth, boy!'" Gretcha snapped back.
A simmering silence drowned the two before the Abelnite matriarch found it in herself to talk again.
"Did you ever ask Coco about her mother? Actually don't bother answering, I'll take a wild guess that she never brought it up. I…" Gretcha struggled to find a beginning, "I didn't get along particularly well with my father. A controlling grouch of a man. Narcissistic, hard to listen to, and not at all pleasant company. I wouldn't say I hated him, but there weren't any waterworks when he passed. I could never forgive him for not approving of my husband, that's Coco's grandfather, you see.
We had maybe…fifteen years before I buried him too. I can still remember the day I found him on the pier, like a lost puppy…. Anyway, when Sharmie was born, I threw myself into raising her. My beautiful, sweet, infuriating, little devil of a daughter. All of Sen's spice, with only a pinch of Coco's sweetness. I loved the hell out of her.
Then she chose a man when she was only about a year younger than Coco…Rodric. Rat-bastard of a man. I didn't think he was good for her the second I saw him, but I thought maybe, just maybe, I was being a bit like the father I left behind. I let it happen. They move out, I hear things, things I don't like.
I send a message to him in private from time to time, and for a while, things quiet down. Then one day Sharmie shows up at my door, pregnant. Coco was maybe nine, maybe ten…and I tell Shar to stay. She does, and Sen is delivered, right in the front room, and I think to myself, 'yeah, I can take care of this, I can take care of them.' Except Rodric comes back and says he's changed.
I tell my Sharmie she'd be a fool to believe him…actually I say worse things. We both do. But she goes and…she doesn't come back," Gretch says with finality, "Murder suicide."
"I keep asking myself what I should have done back then. Stop them from meeting, becoming an item, or offed him early when I had the chance. I don't know. But if there's one thing I do know, it's that I am glad that she met him. I'm glad Coco and Sen were born, and I'm glad Coco met you, Josuke."
Their eyes met briefly as he silently processed her words.
"Josuke," Gretcha said, hopping off her chair, "I'm going to say something to you that you really don't want to hear." She walked slowly until she was in front of him, "I forgive you. We all do, every one of us."
The words seemed to crash onto him like a thousand pounds as his body trembled and his face scrunched with renewed agony.
"Really?" he weezed out, barely able to make out the word.
"Yes," she said, gently grabbing onto his head to bring into her chest. "Me, Sen, everyone forgives you."
In truth, there was nothing to absolve, but Elder Abelnite knew this was what the boy needed to hear.
"Even Coco, Josuke. Now you just need to find the strength to forgive yourself."
He wouldn't, at least not immediately. But for now, as she cradled him and felt tears soak into her cloak, Gretcha knew some kind of healing had begun.
x.X.x
(Three days later)
A'toni stood on a hill of rusted junk not far from the chapel. He had already paid his respects to the brave young teacher who had given her life for her people. It didn't feel appropriate that he should make himself a pest.
"Ho there, Tony!" a large man called out. It was Horso, a man A'toni had come to view as the resident everyman of Daggertown. He seemed to have his hand in every industry (if it could be called that) in the neighborhood, and was the go-to guy if you needed to see someone or acquire something.
The man had been kind enough to put a good portion of A'toni's colleagues up for a few weeks as they got settled into their new lives in Meteor City. He had even taken to employing two in the back kitchen of his bar, but others would have to make due with their own skills and luck.
For his part in the Staymos Incident, Gretcha had taken it upon herself to arrange a private ship to bring him, not home, that would have been too far, but somewhere he might be able to get in contact with a Napolini consulate.
It wasn't ingratiating news to his peers, or rather, former coworkers, that he would be allowed to leave while they had to stay, and A'toni thought it best he keep a respectful distance from them.
This land wasn't technically a country in the strictest sense, and thus, wasn't equip to take on the logistical task of helping those who had been shanghaied by Muska. As far as the people here were concerned, the fact that they were here meant that they had been thrown away, and in a sense they weren't wrong.
His friends would have to eek out new lives here while he…got to go home.
"How are you, Signor Horso," A'toni said dully.
"I, uh, I heard you had a less than pleasant phone call yesterday and wanted to check up on you to see how you were holding up. With things being how they are, I suppose I just wanted to make sure you had someone to check up on you."
I am not a child, you oaf!, is what A'toni wanted to say, though he settled for, "Thank you, Signor. Sto bene." He wasn't actually fine, but he was trying to be.
Yesterday Horso had finally gotten a friend of a friend of a guy he knew to finally lend A'toni a working cell phone, and had even been kind enough to pay the usage fee. The call however, had been like a slap to the face.
His mother was dead.
He had had to find this out after his third call home hadn't gone through and he instead called Franknando, a childhood friend who had also been their neighbor.
After expressing worry and many questions, Frank had solemnly delivered the grim news that A'toni's mother had died in her sleep almost a year ago. But that wasn't where the terrible news ended. Massima was missing, and had been missing for nearly a week after their mother's funeral. The restaurant, also their home, the only thing their father had passed on to them, had mysteriously gone up in flames with many suspecting arson.
After thanking Frank for taking care of funeral arrangements in his absence, A'toni hung up mid conversation and simply walked away as he brushed off any concern Horso expressed.
"Well I just want you to know that me and Grech, the ship we scheduled for ya will be here in a week. Decent thing, but sturdy. Captain on it'll get you where you need to go and…ah…I guess that's about it. I, uh-"
"Signor Horso," A'toni interrupted, "what are those people doing down there?" From this distance it seemed a figure that looked like Josuke had finally begun walking toward the church. Many who had still been outside the chapel immediately began to swarm the young man, their arms filled with white roses that they tried to push onto Josuke.
"They're ah, well…We have a tradition here. If someone dies and they were married, you give white roses to their wife or husband as a way of saying 'sorry for yer loss,' and so on."
"I did not know they were married,"
"They weren't," Horso replied, sadly, "but it's like, you know, the principle of the thing. To us, they may as well have been, and…..I guess this is our way of saying 'we're sorry'. 'We're sorry…and thank you,'"
x.X.x
No one understood. No one who hadn't been there could understand that what had happened to Kenny, Jin, Josie, Leez and the others wasn't something to be excited about. It hadn't been exciting having guns pointed at your face. It wasn't cool having to deal with villainous gangsters. It wasn't cool that Ms. A was dead.
Maybe that didn't mean as much to some of the other kids, but to Moss and the others who had been there, it wasn't something to look back on with anything else but shame and disgust.
He was weak, and because he was weak, Mr. Fix had had to come save them instead of Ms. A. To Moss, the memory of what had transpired was a constant reminder of his own inadequacy, and he dealt with those feelings the only way he knew how, aggression.
Two days after the Staymos Incident, Moss had gotten into no less than three fights with punk kids who had pestered him with unending questions about what had transpired.
It got so bad that eventually his mother spoke with Elder Gretcha who immediately put him under Father Donovan who himself tasked Moss with assisting throughout the funeral.
It had a calming effect, being so close to Ms. A. Watching so many people come to pay their respects had been soothing, with some visitors being allotted special visitation time with Coco, himself included, to say their goodbyes.
In the time he had worked here, Moss found he could hide behind the pulpit to listen to each of these private farewells, something he was doing that very moment. Was this wrong? Most definitely. Was it therapeutic? Absolutely.
Each of his friends who had been kidnapped gave a heartfelt farewell, but it was Leez's goodbye that had brought tears to Moss's eyes. She hadn't even stepped out of her house since they had returned to land, and must have been fighting her demons to make it here, right before Ms. A was to be buried.
If there was one person Moss couldn't forgive though, it was Fix. He hadn't shown up once since Ms. Coco's body had been displayed. Shouldn't he, the man Ms. A cherished, have been here every single day?
Moss had always been a little jealous of Josuke, since he himself had had a childish crush on Ms. A, like a dozen other boys from class. Yet he had always admired the man who had saved him in the badlands, and had thus given his silent approval to the odd courtship that had been betwixt the two.
That's it! Moss thought angrily, "If you don't show up you bastard, I swear I'm…"I'm gonna!-"
*Creeeeeeeak!*
The sound of another visitor immediately caused Moss to reign himself in.
Peeking out from a small crack in the platform he hid inside, his eyes widened in surprise.
x.X.x
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeaGQIMOgO0
Josuke's feet felt heavy as he slowly walked over to the casket. The half seconds between each step seemed to drag on in his mind, like they were fighting against the truth displayed in front of him. He had thought he had worked through this, prepared himself mentally, but ready or not, he continued to walk forward.
There she was.
So beautiful.
She looked so serene, like at any moment her eyes would open and she would say "good morning," as she stretched and got out of bed.
But she wouldn't be waking up now, or ever again.
His whole life was there, in front of him. How long had it been since he first woke up in Meteor City. Two years now? He could barely remember the first few days when he was just a rabid animal. His most vivid memories were when he had met her. That day, and every day after, somehow, he had always made time to see her. Days in school as she privately tutored him in his spelling. Moments saying 'hello' and being forced to dinner with the Abelnites. It was all right there. In front of him.
When did he know he was in love with her? Maybe it hadn't been in a day, maybe it was all just one long journey from the moment she had shielded him. A journey they would never finish together now.
He just stood there, not even touching her, until he saw a hair out of place, and gently bent over to part it from her eye.
"Hey, Co. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I suppose…I suppose I just wasn't in the right mind, but I figured I should tell you. I'll be leaving soon."
No response came, though Josuke couldn't help but feel she was listening in a way.
"I'm going to, ah,....I'm sorry. You've probably heard me say that a lot, or maybe you've heard me think it, I just…I guess I wanted to say it at least one time to you."
There was a pause then, as Josuke seemed to mull over what exactly it was he wanted to say.
"I guess what I'm saying is that…There's no point in me staying here now that you're gone…"
"I love you," he finally added, "I'm sorry I didn't get to say it to you earlier. Every time I think about it, I wonder why I was so scared to say it all along. Maybe because I didn't think I was good enough, or maybe I was just scared. I don't know if you'd be angry with me for being so slow, but I…I guess I just wanted to tell you that, now that it's just the two of us.
Heh, you wouldn't believe it, but right before I got here, everyone outside gave me white roses. The audacity right?....It's like they were waiting for me. Like everyone was waiting for me," A tear down his cheek, "I'm sorry for making you wait, Coco."
He placed the bouquet of roses in her hand before stroking her cheek. Then after a second more, bent over to give her a peck on her lips.
"I'm sorry our first kiss was like that, and that I didn't ask. But some things you just can't control, you know?"
A moment of silence followed before he found it in himself to speak once more.
"I'm going to live, Coco. For you. For me. For us. I'll see it all for the both of us. I won't throw away this life. Not the life you loved."
With that, he slowly turned to walk away, but stopped after several steps.
"Moss, you can come out now. I was the last one."
"Y-You knew I was here?"
Josuke gave the timid boy a small smile as he came out of the pulpit. "Let's go Moss. Let's let her rest now…"
And so they did.
x.X.x
Shortly after, a train of people, Coco's closest friends and family, with many more in tow, carried her body to be buried in a special plot of land free of filth.
Poetically, as they lowered her body into the ground, what was already a strangely cloudy evening slowly began to rain, like the heavens themselves were saddened by the passing of Daggertown's daughter. And if the raindrops hid the tears people shed one last time. No one said anything.
x.X.x
(Later that evening)
There was a sort of after party that took place after the funeral. Josuke wasn't sure if he would have called it proper, but it was what it was. In a way, this was a way of celebrating Coco's life.
It stretched from the Abelnite household into the streets where a mini festival or block party was occurring.
Josuke spent part of the evening with the kids, and repaired a few things here and there. It seemed a cousin of Coco's, one Machi Komacine, had been there during the funeral, but chose to hide her presence and keep to herself. A gesture of respect to not take away attention from the Abelnites in mourning.
Now that the funeral proper had run its course, many had rushed to meet one of Meteor City's guardian deities in the flesh. That was just fine by Josuke, who wanted as much privacy as he could get, and was getting tired of the condolences he was receiving.
As it grew late. He found that his feet had somehow led him to Horso's bar. Closed, but apparently not locked.
Letting himself in, Josuke wasn't surprised to see Milda and Horso behind the counter, but he was surprised to see Gretcha nursing a cup of whiskey, box on her lap.
"Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear," Milda exclaimed.
"Hey there ma'boy, how you holding up? We were just talking about you," Horso added.
Gretcha for her part just gave him a look before nodding toward the stool beside her. An invitation from her if ever there was one.
Walking toward the counter, Josuke spotted Sen sitting at the far corner table, munching on whatever delicious smell was coming from the kitchen. As soon as she saw him her head turned away with a sneer. He'd have to apologize for ignoring her later.
As he sat down to get comfortable, a small shot glass was placed in front of him, as well as a heaping bowl of spaghetti. God it smelt amazing. How long had it been since he had sat down to eat?
"Eyyy, Signor Fix, è bello vederti!" A voice from the kitchen exclaimed. It was A'toni.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Josuke. The man's the best cook I've ever seen, but won't let us hire him." Milda said.
"Leave it," Horso grunted, like he had had this conversation dozens of times in the last few days, "He'll be heading off in a week."
"Speaking of which," Gretcha interjected, "Josuke…when are you planning to leave?"
That seemed to leave everyone save for Horso stunned. Even Josuke was mildly surprised as he hadn't exactly been planning to share his plans.
"How'd you know?"
"You don't get to live as long as I have and not develop a sixth sense for these things, you dunderhead. I'll ask again, when are you planning on leav-"
*Crash!*
The sound of silverware breaking on the floor caused everyone to turn their heads toward the back of the bar. Where Sen was now standing up, a look of panic and anger in her eyes.
"You're going!" She exclaimed.
"Pick that up right now, Sen!" Gretcha yelled, but her granddaughter's fury was not to be quelled.
"You…YOU BASTARD!!!" She screamed before storming out the door.
Josuke made to go after her, but was pulled down by the Elder Abelnite's hand.
"Leave her," Gretcha said, "if that brat wants to throw a temper tantrum, let her."
"But-"
"I said, 'leave her!'"
Josuke sat bag down guiltily. He'd have to talk to her privately later.
"I'm sorry about your plate, Horso."
She motioned toward her pocket, but Horso waved any notion of payment away.
"Where are you planning on going?" Gretcha continued, her words almost an interrogation.
"Don't know yet. Figured I'd just pick a direction and leave."
"That easy for you, huh? God what I wouldn't give to be young and stupid. All the time in the world to be an idiot."
"Did you ask me to sit down just to insult me?" Josuke asked, exasperated.
"You've got no plan, no home, probably no money that hasn't burned. What is it you're planning on doing, boy?"
"Well if you must know, I'm…going to try to figure out where I came from. You happy, you old bat?"
"With what leads, Josuke? You're just going to pick a direction and run around like a chicken without its head, dumbass."
"Well," Josuke began, fighting to keep down his ire, "I suppose I'll just cross that bridge when I get-"
"Jappon," she interrupted.
"What?"
"Does it sound familiar to you?" Gretcha asked.
Josuke mulled over her words for a second before realizing, astonished, that the word did in fact sound familiar. In the deepest recesses of his mind, it sounded like the word of a word that he should know.
"I…think so?" He finally replied.
"I thought it might."
"What does it mean?"
"It's a country, one I've had the strongest hunch you came from," Gretcha said nursing her drink.
"Wait," Josuke exclaimed, "you've known where I come from this long and didn't say anything!"
"No," Gretcha corrected, "I said, I've had a hunch that's where you've come from."
"And you didn't say anything?"
"What would it have mattered? Would you have swum there? I doubt they'd have taken you even if you could."
She wasn't wrong, but the way she was acting so nonchalant about it was grating.
"Signor Fix," Tony said, having come out of the kitchen, "Jappon is a beautiful country, but Signora Abelnito, she is not wrong. It is a dangerous country right now."
"I don't get it."
"Back when I was home, I would sometimes see on the news. Jappon is very isolate country. Right now, they, how you say, non voglio gli stranieri. Don't. Want. Foreign."
"Believe it or not, Josuke," Horso began, "we aren't completely cut off from the world here. Some news does come from time to time, and right now, I doubt they'd take anyone who doesn't have a birth certificate and passport. For sure you'd need both to even consider getting a visa,"
"President Funi Barentain is a nationalist who's platform has been 'Strength through Isolation'. The radicals of his party don't want anyone who doesn't have a drop of Japponese blood in the country, even as tourists," Milda added. "Even if you are Japponese, you'd have to do more than just look the part to be accepted."
"You probably are," Gretcha said, "the way you talk, the words I sometimes heard you speak before we taught you the common tongue. You're just like him, my husband."
"Your husband was Japponese?" Milda asked, astonished.
"That he was. He never spoke about it, and kept the worst details to himself, but years ago, he was driven out of his home by the Yakuza. The Japponese mafia. Somehow though, he found his way to me," she said, reaching into her coat. She brought out a photo, holding it up before placing it on the counter for all to see.
It was a black and white picture of Coco, but wearing black leather and lipstick. Her hair was spiked, and she sat behind a young man with a dark familiar uniform on a motorcycle. The youth had a stick in his mouth and looked like a hooligan, and in Josuke's opinion, his pompadour was too large and greasy.
"Wow," Josuke muttered, "so Coco had a wild sid-"
"Thats me you, dolt!" Gretcha snapped, smacking him on the head. "And that's my deceased husband, Goro."
"I…see,"
"The way you talk, the way you walk, Josuke. You're just like him."
He chose to take that as a compliment.
"Josuke," she continued, reaching for a box next to her that he hadn't noticed, "there's something I want you to have," She placed the white cardboard on the bar counter before blowing off a significant amount of dust from its cover. Inside was a black cloth, or rather, several pieces of folded dark clothing.
With some fanfare, she unfurled the clothes, shaking off the bits of dust that had accumulated throughout the years. Josuke realized that it was the same clothing that her husband had worn in the picture. A large black Bancho coat and slacks that were also school uniforms.
Wait. How had he known that?
"My husband came from a town called, Sendai-Morio. This was the school uniform he used to wear before his family business went under and he was forced to come here. They were the nicest things he had. He never could throw them away…I want you to have it."
"I-I couldn't, Mrs. A, I-"
"I said, 'take it,' in fact, change into it right now!"
She was tipsy, and her tone brooked no argument, so rather than argue, Josuke took a deep breath and obeyed.
As he walked back from the bathroom, he was greeted by the flirtation whistle of Milda, as well as the opproving nods of both Tony, and Horso. Gretcha looked like she was looking at a ghost. And Josuke? Josuke had to admit that the clothes felt like they fit surprisingly well, and he didn't just mean by way of size.
"I also felt I should give you this," Gretcha said, reaching into her coat.
She brought out a golden heart that she tossed to him. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a pin.
"Handmade, I think. Coco probably worked on it all night for a month for your birthday."
Josuke didn't have a birthday. What she was referring to was the anniversary of Coco and his meeting. When she had stood her ground against her own grandmother to give him a chance to live his life.
Though the weight of memory made it heavy in his hands, rather than sulk, Josuke immediately pinned the heart to his collar.
"Now there's a strapping young lad," Horso said to everyone's agreement.
"Josuke," Gretcha said, her voice taking on a strangely serious tone, "There's probably no conventionally easy way to enter Jappon, but let me ask, 'do you want to go?' I won't stop you from leaving, but I do think you're more likely to find any clues about who you are over there."
"I am. Ever since you mentioned it, I feel like if I go there I might just be able to figure things out. So even if I have to break the law, that's where I'll be going."
"You won't have to," Gretcha said matter of factly, "....well you probably won't have to."
Oh for the love of, "What the hell do you mean old lady! First you say it's impossible, now you don't even know?!" Josuke was getting sick of this.
"I said there's no conventional way for you to get in, stupid! But there are workarounds to this sort of thing!"
"Wait a minute," Horso said, understanding seeming to dawn on the old man's face, "you can't mean…"
"I do…"
"Will one of you just tell me what's going on!" Josuke nearly screamed.
"Josuke," Gretcha said grimly, "the only way for you to enter Jappon….is to…BECOME A HUNTER!"
Silence. Everyone looked at her shocked. Horso, in solemn understanding, shook his head in agreement. Milda covered her mouth. Even Tony seemed put out by the statement. An air of seriousness filled the void of their conversation as everyone measured the weight of her words.
…….
…..
…
.
"Okay," Josuke finally said, "But what does hunting deer have to do with getting into Jappon…"
There was a sudden crash as Josuke's seeming stupidity nearly knocked everyone from where they stood or sat.
"Oh, Josuke,"
"I guess Coco didn't teach you everything,"
"Dunderhead,"
"This boy…"
"Non hai preso i voti migliori a scuola, vero?"
"Will someone please explain to me what you're all talking about."
"Not a hunter like someone who hunts animals, Josuke, though I guess they do that too. A Hunter from the Hunter Association," Milda explained.
"Oh right, the Hunter Association…what's that?"
Groaning in unison, it was Gretcha who continued to fill the void of his knowledge, "The Hunter Association, Josuke, is an independent non-government affiliated Global organization dedicated to uncovering the mysteries of the world, or some hogwash like that. They're old enough, have enough pull, and enough money, that their members are some of the wealthiest people in the world. They have such prestige, members are almost never barred from entering any but the most isolated nations. Identity? Passport? You won't need any of that if you have a Hunter's License. Hell, they'll probably make you one of each. Getting one will open all of the doors this world has to offer for you."
"Why doesn't everyone just become a Hunter then?"
There was another unified groan by his friends as if he had said something else incredibly dumb.
"Amico, Josuke. One does not just become a Hunter. They are not just prestigious and wealthy, but picky, si. In my youth, I dreamed of becoming a Gourmet Hunter. To travel the world, and try every dish, discover new flavors"
"Tony's right, Joe," Horso added, "They don't just pick anyone. Only the best of the best in the entire world become Hunters. I've heard that some years, they turn down tens of thousands of applicants, or just don't accept anyone."
"He can do it," Gretcha said, finishing her drink with one large swig, "he will do it. There's no better time."
"What do you mean?"
"That damn association knowns that we know that they know about us, and what we're about *hick*, sometimes they send boats here to scout for potential recruits, and sometimes, if me or any of the other Elders thinks someone has what it takes, we give them one or two *hick*. I already called the boat to pick up Tony, as a favor for what he did, but if I give you the password. He'll take you to another boat that'll sail you to the exam. Thashhh how you'll begum a *hick* a Hunter, Joji"
She was drunk, or near enough there.
"It's true, Josuke," Milda said, "this'll be your best shot at getting into Jappon. I mean, without breaking any laws."
"Mi scusi, Signora Abelnite. Would you be willing to extend this opportunity to myself?" Tony asked.
"Zure *hick*, why not."
"Wait a minute," Horso said, "I thought you were going home."
"There is nothing for me there, not anymore. And nothing to keep me here. Perhaps destiny has placed me here just for this very moment."
"Are you sure," Milda asked.
"Si, la signora."
"So I guess we're all set then?" Josuke said, the question being more a statement than anything else.
"Si"
"I guess ya are…"
"Oh Josuke, this is all happening so fast."
"Zzzzzzzz Zzzzzz"
They all looked down to see the district elder flat on her face, now asleep.
"I'll take her home," Josuke said. It looked like there was going to be a lot to prepare for in the coming days.
x.X.x
(Eight Days later)
Today was a special day. Josuke had spent most of it either doing last minute repairs around town, or declining food and gifts from familiar faces. It seemed everyone wanted to give him something, a toy, jenni, a memento. He had to deny most of it as he was planning on traveling light. Money and transportation had been arranged by Grecha, and so anything else felt like he was taking advantage of people.
He did however take time to meet with the kids. Both those that had been kidnapped, but also those he had learned alongside.
He had even taken special care to visit Leez, who was still traumatized from her ordeal. To his surprise, the timid thing was only too happy to see him, and they must have spoken for an hour about nonsense.
But time waited for no man. And as much as he wished he could have made it stretch longer, the evening came, as did his boat.
It was a large steamboat, the kind that only carried a few dozen people at most. Outfitted to sail the oceans blue.
"We'll miss you, Josuke," Horso said, one of nearly a hundred people who had come to see him off. It seemed his imminent departure hadn't been a very well kept secret.
"I'll show you how manly I've become when you come back!" Moss declared.
"You take care of yourself, sonny," the old vegetable seller said.
And so on and so on.
Sen didn't show. Not once. Ever since she had learned of his departure in Horso's bar, she had done everything to ignore or avoid Josuke. That was only fair, he should have been more empathetic to her earlier. He'd find some way to make amends, one day.
"I'm sorry she's not here, Josuke," Gretcha said, "I'll whack her good when I see her, but these things happen. She took the news especially hard."
*Hoooooooooonk Hooooooooonk!*
The sound of the ship's sirens filled the air as a man stepped toward the deck stairs, waiting for all two of the scheduled passengers.
If there was a time to depart, it was now.
"Signor, I can take our bags to the ship if you want to finish saying goodbye." Tony offered.
"Nah, it's fine," Josuke replied, "It's one bag, and it's about time we go,"
As he turned away, he was surprised to feel small boney fingers grab his hand. It was Gretcha, her face full of tears, mucus running down her nose. He had never seen her look like this, and so suddenly. Was she crying for him?
"You have to come back," She began painfully, "okay?"
"I-"
"The world threw you away to us. It can't take you from us, understood? You have to come back, or Coco will be lonely, you get it? I'm, I gonna, I mean I'll-"
"I'll miss you too, Gran," Josuke finished, bending down to give her one last hug.
"And you'll tell us all kinds of stories," someone shouted.
"And bring us souvenirs," a child added.
He wanted to give everyone one last farewell, but knew he couldn't, and so by some miracle, pulled himself from the only family he could remember. The ones he had been making this entire time.
"I will, everyone. I'll come back…one day."
He and Tony made their way to the ship then, the cries of joy and sadness, tears and congratulations in their wake.
"You are?" asked the deckhand, clipboard in hand.
"A'toni Vultore Miguelo Zeppeli-Reynardo," Tony replied.
"Riiiiiiight. Check. Which must make you, Joe. Joe Fix? Sir?"
"No," Josuke said, "Put me down as Josuke. Josuke Joestar."
It wasn't his name. But now more than ever, it seemed to fit.
"Fine. Josuke Joestar. Check. Now if you two will follow me, I'll show you to your room. Now there are some rules to keep in mind of while we're sailing and—"
Josuke tuned the man out. Instead, as the sailor led Tony inside, Josuke stayed on deck to watch his people send him off. Even as the ship began to move and they became smaller and smaller in the distance, their bodies melding into the scenery.
They really were his people, he realized. Whatever Jappon or this Hunter Association had in store, this was his home, and one day, he would return.
"Until we meet again, everyone."
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZD1N7Nl9MHE
x.X.x
I'd like to thank Casey Affleck for his portrayal of Lee Chandler in the movie Manchester by the Sea. It's what gave me the inspiration to finish this chapter. The movie, one of my all time favorites, is renowned for its portrayal of grief, and how not just Lee, but various people deal with tragedy. But I'll leave that alone. Ahem….
Hello everyone. So we've come to the end of not this chapter, but to the arc as a whole. I'm naming this arc, the Meteorigins Arc, and will slowly change chapter names to reflect this throughout various platforms. To all twenty or so people who have read this, thank you. I'd like to say I'll get started right away, but don't want to over commit.
Announcement Time. This will no longer strictly be a JJBA X HxH crossover, so much as it will be an Araki X Togashi crossover. To be specific, the main world will be Hunter X Hunter, but I will be using a variety of characters from both mangaka's works. You'll just have to wait and see who they are and how I mesh them into the story. It won't be too confusing, I swear.
Anyway, I'd very much appreciate a review or something. I can't tell you how much it meant to read the one or two new comments from some stranger on FanFiction who had somehow stumbled onto this story.
Speaking of FanFiction. If you are a reader only there, try to find this on my spacebattles platform. The reason for this is that I'll have inserted appropriate music into sections of the chapter to reflect both the mood, and just to give ourselves some outro music.
I'll also be posting a short informational where I talk about certain characters like Coco, Sen, and Grecha, where I explain who inspired them, or how I came up with names, etc. So if you're interested in that, it will be on FanFiction, but not with pictures. I plan on adding pictures on other platforms that allow this.
Anyway thanks for seeing the end of this journey with me and……
Oh my goodness everyone……
I might not be done just yet….
What's this?
x.X.x
(Two days later)
It was morning on the Calhoon, the steamboat that would take Josuke and Tony to their destination, and both had been sleeping in, when both were awoken to furious raps on the door.
*Knock Knock Knock!*
"Get your asses up! You both have a lot of explaining to do!"
"Get a free ride out of us? Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Lets just toss them, captain?"
"Shut yer mouths and get back to work" All of ye!"
*Knock Knock Knock!*
Josuke and Tony both got out of their beds groggily, not quite understanding what had happened. Opening the door, they were met by the sight of a dozen burly men who looked ready to strangle them both.
"The hell?"
"Capitano, have we done something wrong?"
"Follow me," the old man ordered, his men looking like they were ready to pounce.
As they made their way to the deck, Josuke couldn't help but have a terrible feeling something was about to happen.
In the middle of the deck, the other half of the crew was crowding around…something.
"Git yer fat arses out of the way, ye dogs. Now!"
As his men moved to obey their captains orders, Josuke's heart fell into his stomach.
"Oh, Bambina…"
There she was. Tied up and placed in a barrel. Azalean hair pushed back by goggles. Face dirty with dust and grease. No wonder she had been avoiding him all this time. She must have been planning this from the moment she ran from the bar.
Coy eyes avoided his own. A childish face full of pride that she had made it this far, never mind the heart attack Grecha was probably having.
"Anything to say fer yerself ya little stowaway!"
"Uh, hey Josuke. So you were on this ship too?"
"Oh goddamnit! Seeeeeeeeeeen!"
x.X.x
Next time on Diamond Hunter. Old and familiar faces abound. The Hunter Exam begins! Or at least the path to it…
Nice, I'm excited for the next arc. 