Chapter Text
Your eyes felt heavy with fatigue and for the fifth time today you silently reprimanded yourself for staying up late last night. It was hard to stay focused and awake in class when all you wanted to do was lay your head down and doze off. You really shouldn’t have binged that show.
At least Storm, your Stand, was a large help. She was currently lurking within your uniform and spread along your back, entirely out of sight. Your Stand was usually out of sight if you were out in public and especially in school.
Even if no one else ever saw her, you would find it too distracting to see her drift around when you were meant to focus. She had a bit of a mischievous streak as well and sometimes you had to stop yourself from laughing out loud.
Right now, second she sensed you nodding off, she gave you a small electric shock. It made you twitch a little in your seat and maybe one of your desk neighbors was eyeing you weirdly, but at least you didn’t get into trouble with the teacher.
You once accidentally bumped against Kujo Jotaro’s left foot when you jerked back awake and you cast him a quick apologetic look over your shoulder. He merely glanced at you, then focused back on the lesson, looking tall and broad and kind of intimidating as always. He was so tall that he barely fit in the standard desk and chair and he always had to stretch his legs into your space.
Not that you minded, for all his occasional callousness and frequent broody glowering, he never tried to make you trip over his feet. He always moved his legs out of the way without prompting whenever you wanted to sit down or get up.
He was also a far more preferable presence than the guy in your last school who had sat behind you. That guy had always tried to make your fingers touch when you had to help spread assignments the teachers handed out. Storm had taken care of that real quick. After the second time he had gotten a vicious shock when touching you, he had swiftly ceased.
Kujo did none of that, if anything, he seemed to make sure not to touch you. Like, ever. He was also quiet, never acted like a clown in class and a glare from him usually made the other delinquents in class shut up real quick. You had never had an easier time focusing on classes then since he sat behind you. Well, if you weren’t half asleep at least.
There were, of course, numerous rumors about Kujo, some wilder than others. There was the rumor that he had defeated every gang in the area, that he coerced restaurants to pay him for eating, that he once threatened a teacher so thoroughly he quit and that he had a string of one-night stands.
You had to admit that you didn’t care much. You had no idea what was true and what wasn’t. Kujo had never done anything to make you feel worried in his presence, so he was okay enough in your books.
His presence right behind you held another definite boon: You had never had an easier time making friends.
Once the girls realized that you were not, in fact, after their dream boy, they were happy to chat with you. Even if they had only used your presence as an excuse at first to sidle closer to Kujo, you were reasonably sure that they had grown fond of you. Mostly. They always greeted you and you could always sit with them during lunch, so there was that.
You had been far more lonely at your last school, so this was definitely a good thing.
In all honesty, Kujo seemed to hold no interest for any of them, but he wasn’t being terrible about it either. Not the way you had seen other 'popular' boys act, who broke hearts left and right with flirting and cheating and generally behaving as though their presence alone turned shit to real gold.
He did lose his temper sooner or later if things started to get out of hand, though your friends never seemed to mind. He was rough around the edges then, but despite his irritated words and raised voice, you never got any actually malicious vibes from him.
And despite his size and height, you had yet to see him use it to intimidate the girls. He never once loomed over them or tensed in a threatening way or leaned in to make them feel small and scared.
Today you dozed off during lunch and your friends were nice enough to wake you before the next lesson. You sat blearily through the rest of school, occasionally twitching when Storm ensured you didn’t fall asleep in front of the teacher.
In all honesty, you remembered fuck all. Your brain had simply decided to just…not pay attention. It probably would have been best to stay at home and catch up on sleep.
You decided to head straight home after school and get a nap before your martial arts class. Storm seeped out of your clothes once you were away from school and you watched her regain a reasonably solid body and drift alongside you. She could walk, if she so desired, but most days she was a little fuzzy around the edges and kind of just floated beside you.
She had a mostly humanoid body, though her face only held two glowing eyes and the outline of a nose and no other features. She was the color of a roiling storm, always buzzing a little with electricity and her hair drifted around her head as though she was perpetually below water.
Storm had been your only true companion since your parents had decided to focus on their company, leaving you alone more and more often. Once you had been deemed old enough, they had left you in charge of the house, rarely coming home. Now they were involved in a vicious divorce war. Which, somehow, still meant none of them came home outside of holiday visits.
They tried to pacify you by saying they didn’t want to pull you into the divorce and yet they still managed to regularly drag you into their arguments via phone calls. It had the effect that you had stopped asking them about coming back a while ago and you tried to avoid talking to them as much as possible.
Maybe things would change once they had figured out who you’d stay with post-divorce, but you honestly weren’t holding your breath. They were workaholics through and through. No, you were planning your future independent of them.
One day, after graduation, you and Storm were going to see the world. You had been saving up for that dream for years now and you had notes and flyers of the places you wanted to see. The adventures you were going to go on together. The good kind, not the scary kind, of course.
You went through your usual routine once you were back home, putting on music to combat the silence of the small house. Storm was your best friend, but she couldn’t exactly talk and since she couldn’t use electronics without frying them sooner or later, she couldn’t even stitch sound-files together to communicate like a transformer.
You had learned sign language to compensate for that and you had become quite adept at it since she had shown up at your tenth, lonely birthday.
She was, to this day, the best thing that had ever happened to you.
Even if you had to replace a lot of lightbulbs. A whole lot. And five microwaves, one oven, three phones, two TVs and ten remotes. Thankfully, your parents had blamed it all on faulty wiring or products and had never questioned you further why electronics in your vicinity had a tendency to die a very premature death.
Storm was good at being crafty, however. She loved to paint most of all, a hobby you liked to indulge in as well from time to time, though your styles differed greatly. You had a few of her artworks displayed around the house. Storm was especially proud of the winter cabin she had made after watching Bob Ross videos.
Once you flopped down on the couch Storm flopped onto your back in turn, far lighter than a real person would have been, but still solid enough to make you feel like someone was giving you the worlds lightest hug. You fell asleep the moment she pulled the blanket over both of you, the hairs on your arms and neck standing straight due to her proximity. It was a sensation you had long since gotten used to.
You slept for a few blissful hours and startled awake when your phone alarm blared loudly and far too obnoxiously. Storm kept clinging to your back as you got up, so you gathered your things with her in tow. It wasn’t like she really weighed anything anyway, not truly.
She only let go once you haphazardly shoved your feet into your shoes and left the house to go to your martial arts class. It was one of the few things your parents had not fought you on, for they thought many leisure or after school activities were a waste of time. Martial arts and sign language had been the only lessons they had considered a good idea.
Living on your own, even with a Stand that could and in fact had once electrocuted people was plenty of safety, but…you liked knowing you could defend yourself on your own as well.
Or, that was what you liked to tell yourself. The truth was, the first and last time you had run into a fellow Stand user, who had told you what Storm was in the first place, it had been pretty damn traumatizing. You still had a thick, ropey scar on your shoulder where that person’s Stand had pierced through your skin.
You had survived by the skin of your teeth. Storm had desperately grappled the other person, pumping out lightning until they had stopped moving, their Stand shattering to nothing. Back then you had run without looking back, but today you were pretty certain that person hadn’t survived.
It had become a bit of an obsession after you had healed. Learning how to defend yourself had given you back a sense of control, enough so that you stopped looking over your shoulder every few seconds. And after seeing that her fighting skill grew alongside yours, your desire of knowing how to defend yourself had doubled.
Not that Storm got much opportunity to fight, but she liked to learn with you and you sparred with each other frequently. Kind of, at least. Mostly she just ended up zapping you a little and graciously allowed you to get a hold on her and toss her over your shoulder. Which honestly always felt like you were trying to toss a bag of feathers.
Besides, martial arts was a lot of fun and it gave you an excuse to leave the quiet house and be among people for a while.
As you stepped out of the dojo two hours later, saying goodbye and splitting from the group that went towards the nearby train station, a harsh, ominous feeling suddenly gripped you, immediately putting you on edge.
Storm materialized beside you between one second and the next, one hand placed on your shoulder as she now floated a good two heads above you to peer around. You felt the static she gave off in the air, a silent warning, a threat, that you both would fight if you had to. Even if you honestly didn’t want to. You enjoyed sparring, but you hated the thought of actual, dangerous combat.
You spotted the man a moment later. He was across the street, leaning his shoulder against the street lamp, a hat pulled low so it shadowed his face. He was built tall and slim, slim enough in fact that he looked as though a strong breeze was capable of knocking him over.
"Good evening," he called out and you angled yourself to slightly glance behind you.
The dojo was a little bit away, but Storm could make you really fast for short bursts of time. You could reach the building in two seconds. Only, what if this was a Stand user? By the way Storm was staring at him, you were reasonably sure he was one. In that case, running might do fuck all.
"Hello," you called back, cautiously staying polite. Or, polite enough. You were half tempted to just book it. "Please excuse me, I don’t want to chat."
"Oh, that’s too bad." The man lifted a hand, flicking up the hat enough that you could get a look at his face. Rather pretty, but his smile was cold. "But don’t worry, I’m rather busy myself. I’m here to tell you of a rare deal. Once in a lifetime, you could say."
…was this man trying to peddle you something? Sell drugs? Storm’s grip on your shoulder tightened and you felt the edges of her fingers start to dissolve, lightly zapping your skin as she began to stretch over your skin, ready to help you run.
"No." You moved to leave, only to jerk back as, all of a sudden, a creature leapt from the bushes that lined the sidewalk. It was a slender being of dusty pink, looking like a strange, big cat wearing two masks. The one at its front was crying while the one at the back of its head was smiling in joy.
"Dio would like to welcome you among his entourage," the man said. "Meet my Stand, Matchmaker. We’re here to recruit you."
This was, without doubt, the most random fucking encounter. It baffled you so much your heartbeat slowed down a tad and that unsettled, worried fog in your mind lifted a little.
"Who is Dio?" you asked, hoping to buy some time and figure out if this Matchmaker was fast enough to stop you if you ran past it.
"Only the most powerful, most magnificent being in the entire world!" The man stepped forward, spreading his arms with a delighted grin. This Dio person sounded like they were leading a cult. Maybe one for Stand users? "A vampire of ages past -"
Never mind, those guys were absolute lunatics. Storm dissolved to gray, electric sparks to cover your body entirely and you felt your skin buzz. It took only a tensing of muscles, a move your had practiced relentlessly together, to make you step and then leap forward, faster than a human should be able to move.
You couldn’t do this much, or for long, since your heart would give out if you overdid it, but it would be enough to escape. Or to end fights quickly should you be unable to book it.
Matchmaker, however, seemed to have waited for just that. You managed to dodge out of the way to avoid getting hurt, but you felt its paw and claws scrape past your arm, leaving three thin lines behind, a tiny bit of blood beading up.
You felt Storm’s anger at that, a spark of lightning that jumped from you to the creature, making it yowl as it fell ass over teakettle and the man shouted in startled pain.
"No thanks," you called from the other end of the street. The man jerked around in your direction, sputtering in surprise to see you so far away. "Fuck off!"
"Matchmaker has marked you!" His words made you pause, skin still buzzing and starting to sting a little. Storm would have to let you go soon if she didn’t want to hurt you.
The man cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, "Return to me and join Dio, or you will soon be faced with consequences!"
He honestly did not look threatening at the moment, trying to flag you down. You knew precious little about Stands, most of which you had gathered through your years with Storm. If you knocked the man out, his Stand should dissolve as well. And possibly, maybe, its powers too.
Using another burst of Storm’s powers, you got in the man’s face and as he flailed back, you punched him, Storm releasing a burst of electricity. He collapsed like wet paper and Storm released her grip on you, leaving you panting and with a racing heart.
Gasping for air and pressing a hand to your chest to help yourself calm, you saw that Matchmaker was indeed gone. A glance at your arm, however, showed that a faint pink mark of two masks, one laughing and one crying, remained above the scratches.
Fuck.
Grabbing the stranger as he began to regain consciousness with a groan, he yelped when you shook him. Storm stood above you, crackling menacingly and when Matchmaker re-manifested, she was on the creature in a second, leaving it a twitching mess, which in turn made the stranger nearly pass out again.
"Alright, alright, I won’t move!" he wheezed, hands trembling and twitching too hard to properly grip your wrists. "I got it, loud and clear, you don’t want to join!"
"What did you do?" you asked sharply, nodding towards your arm. "What is this?"
"Oh, um, nothing too serious." He smiled weakly but stopped quickly when Storm raised a crackling fist. "Shesh, you two are trigger happy. It really is harmless. Well, kind of. You see, Dio wanted me as a recruiter because I can connect people. Normal ones with normal ones and Stand users with Stand users. At least, that’s how it’s always worked. If you, um, refused, this was supposed to be a back-up plan."
"And how, exactly, is this harmless? And what does this Dio want with me anyway?"
"He’s preparing for a fight and gathers all those worthy and powerful enough."
You nearly made a face. Sure, Storm’s powers were nothing to sneeze at and you were decent at hand-to-hand combat, but powerful? You had no idea if you were, you hadn’t had much opportunity to test yourself in actual combat, but you didn’t want to fight.
He swallowed, hands raised and held away to look harmless. But Matchmaker was still out and there was still a mark on your arm. He continued, "Matchmaker makes lonely people connect with their soulmates, which means even if you refuse, you’d sooner or later end up in Dio’s reach. Because he collects people like us. And, um, statistically, you might be bonded to one of his…" He trailed off, offering another shaky smile.
You had no idea if you looked murderous or incredulous.
"Soulmates are bullshit and I’m not lonely," you spat the words out without quite meaning to. You had Storm and that was enough. That was all you needed.
He tipped his head and there was a strange, understanding sadness shimmering in his eyes now. "It is hard to find people you truly connect with, especially for our lot. Can you say, with certainty, that you don’t feel like your relationships are lacking? That your life could benefit from some livening up? Dio could -"
He nearly choked when you shook him again. Dio this, Dio that, at this point you were more likely to try and drop-kick whoever that was out a window than join his cause. Especially if he ran around making people believe he was a vampire. What, did he drink virgin’s blood? Bathe in moonlight? Put on fake fangs and speak in a practiced accent that was kind of fake if one knew what to listen for?
You frowned, opening your mouth with a sharp rebuke, only to find your words withering on your tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste behind. Sure, you may have friends, but you could admit to yourself that those relationships were still shallow. After being alone with Storm for so long you had grown cautious about letting people close.
The last thing you needed was to look like a lunatic. Or start rumors that your house was haunted. The only one who truly knew you, every complicated and weird and sometimes ugly facet of you, was Storm.
"Enough," you decided after a moment and nodded at your arm again. "Undo this."
"Oh, but this can offer you so much more than what you have! I can offer you human connections, a soulmate to share in your joy and suffering, one who would know and love every part of you."
"I’m not a stupid little girl," you found yourself spitting out. "Relationships don’t work like that and soulmates are nothing but wishful thinking."
You had seen the loving relationship of your parents fall apart over the years. The cheating and shouting and insulting that had taken over what had once been shared giggles and whispers and laughter when they had been home.
They had looked so happy. They had even looked happy through the screen when FaceTiming you or sending you pictures as they worked. One of your favorite pictures to this day had been made by one of their coworkers. Your parents had squished themselves onto a small office couch together, clearly conked out and exhausted, but still holding each other so neither of them would fall off.
But love wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough to bring them home to you and it hadn’t been enough to help them stay together.
"You are rather jaded for one so young," the man mused. "I won’t disagree, relationships are hard work, but there are people who are worth it and who will put work into it as well. What do you say, wouldn’t you enjoy such company?"
"I’ve never needed anyone." The words were hard as they left your mouth and an unbidden memory rose, of being desperately terrified and so alone after surviving the fight with that Stand user five years ago. A fight you would not have survived if not for Storm. You were fine on your own as long as you had Storm at your side.
"Besides, why would I believe you?" you asked, glaring at him. "After forcing this on me and spouting nonsense about a stranger I never met, are you going to trap me in some sort of contract? Curse me to be stuck with the worst possible person?"
"Your words originate from a hurt heart, I can tell." He bowed his head slightly. "I am not a bad person, no matter what you might think about me. My Stand is very unusual and we are not made for fighting, young miss. But we are made for making the world better and I’ve found that many Stand users are very lonely people. But then Dio came and now we’re not so alone anymore. Now we have him and he has promised us a truly marvelous world."
This guy really had lost his marbles. Or there really was a cult for Stand users out there. Either way, you didn’t want to have anything to do with it.
"Undo it," you repeated yourself and Storm, sensing your mounting ire and wariness, raised a hand, her eyes glowing brighter as tiny flashes of lightning arced across her. "Or this will not end well for you."
"Um, heh, you see…" He swallowed and Matchmaker shifted nervously, only to still when Storm snapped her head around to stare the Stand down. Mumbling quickly, like someone pulling off a bandaid, he said, "Matchmaker’s powers are irreversible. They will only stop bringing you and your soulmate together when you accept each other."
For a second you felt still and numb, as if giving him the chance to laugh and say 'just kidding!', before processing reality. You punched his lights out, your body moving before your mind could catch up. The stranger crumpled back against the sidewalk, Matchmaker fading away once more.
Storm was at your side the next moment, looking like a roiling storm barely contained in a humanoid shape, to reflect your inner upset. What absolute garbage was this? Did this mean that somehow, someway, a stranger was suddenly going to show up and, what, did you have to kiss them? Fuck them to make them go away?
You didn’t want other people in your life. You were damn fine on your own. You had plans! You wanted to go traveling after school and see the world with Storm and figure out how to live a good life! How to build a home that didn’t echo with the people it missed, that didn’t remind you that others should be there. A home that actually felt like one.
Stumbling back, you hurriedly ran, Storm giving the stranger another harsh jolt of lightning as she passed him by. It would take quite a while until his muscles stopped spasming and he could move again.
Only, what if he knew where you lived? You didn’t know where else to go! Sure, you had your savings and you could go hide at a hotel, but that wouldn’t fix anything long term. You glanced down at your arm and the peppy, bubblegum pink mark of a laughing and crying mask.
He had mentioned that this mark would end up drawing you into whatever fight this Dio had wanted to recruit you for. That your soulmate would find you. What did this even mean? What made a soulmate in the first place?
You weren’t even of age! What sort of lunatic thought it was a good idea to pluck random people with questionable fighting skills off of the side of the road! This Dio must be the dumbest fucker in the universe if he thought he could, what, build a world dominating cult this way?
You ran home with a pounding heart, fear and fury gnawing at your heart and you restlessly paced in your living room, muttering angrily. Storm could not soothe you, so she turned to preparing food and by the time you had managed to get rid of some of your nervous energy, you were ready to get dinner cooking.
You were fine. Everything was fine. Nothing had happened to you and this soulmate nonsense was bullshit, made up by people who thought the perfect love existed somewhere out there. That they would find eternal happiness as long as this one, special person was in their life.
But nobody was perfect and the world itself was anything but perfect and it was your own damn job to make sure you were happy. Not the job of someone else.
You ate, frustration and anger boiling under your skin, but the longer nothing happened, no attacks raining through windows or people knocking at your door, the more you calmed. By then Storm’s hug was welcome and you let her cuddle up against you, chin hooked over your shoulder as she watched you wash the dishes. Her hold was welcome and while it didn’t feel the exact same way as human touch did, it was more than enough.
You didn’t need anyone, much less some random person you had never seen before. Soulmates. What bullshit.
You hoped Dio, whoever and wherever he was, would trip and fall into a cartoonishly well-placed pile of dung for at least a month. And that he slipped on banana peels like a two-bit villain every time he thought about recruiting more Stand users.
***
You woke the next day and got out of bed only to stumble over a notebook. Grumbling and half asleep, you picked it up, wondering since when you let your things lie around like this. Or Storm, she was as neat as you were.
And since when you did you own one in forest green? It wasn’t until you flipped it open as you stepped towards your desk that you saw drawings you would have never ever made yourself. Or Storm, for that matter. Whoever had made these had an entirely different art style to your cutesy doodles and sketches or Storm’s paintings.
This belonged to another person. Either someone had broken into your home and had left this by your bed, which was unlikely because Storm always stood sentinel, especially after last night, or…
Or this was caused by this cursed fucking soulmate business that weirdo had spoken about. Was this how you were supposed to find your mystery soulmate? There was no name on the book nor any hints in the drawings. Whoever owned this had been working on drawing plants and they wouldn’t get to finish any of their work because you now had their shit.
Great.
Sighing heavily, you set the sketch book down on your desk and stared at it, miffed and confused and disgruntled. Maybe you should have asked some questions instead of storming off in fearful anger last night.
Well, it didn’t matter. As long as Matchmaker’s abilities really weren’t harmful, you weren’t going to pay this any attention. If your soulmate ever did show up, you’d just give them the book back and tell them to be on their way. As if you’d let this Dio-dude win by playing into his hand.
It wasn’t until you tripped over something again that you realized the sketch book wasn’t the only thing that had shown up. This time it was a book on marine life and while curious, it offered no clue either. No name, no address, no nothing.
You shoved both books in an empty drawer of your desk and got ready for school. The pink mark was, annoyingly, still there.
This really was such bullshit.
School passed as always and Jotaro moved his feet as always to let you to past and you had a pleasant lunch with your new friends. You were restless, however, just a little. Just enough that focusing on lessons was hard and your attention kept straying to what had happened, to the second Stand attack, even if this one had been painless, that you had failed to avoid.
And here you had been so proud of how far you had come since getting hurt five years ago. One thought you had learned by now to not trust other Stand users. They were, so far, collectively all bastards.
After school you made some simple but delicious food and did your homework, while Storm watched a documentary on space. Afterwards, she had managed to manipulate her abilities enough to make it look like she had tiny stars winking in and out of existence across her body, rather than lightning.
It looked quite pretty, but you learned quickly not to touch her while she was doing it. The one time you tried patting her shoulder and praise her, you had gotten a nasty, painful jolt. After she had fretted, making sure you were fine, she had sat in a corner, making her hands look like stars were peeking through dark clouds.
The next morning you stumbled over something once again when you got up, blearily staring down at the shonen magazine on your floor. It was from last month and you knew it wasn’t yours because your magazine was still on the shelf.
Once again there were no hints as to whom it may belong to and you dropped it into the same drawer as the books. Stepping away from the desk, you felt something cold and round and hard under your foot. You just barely kept from breaking it. Lifting your foot you saw a single cherry earring.
Picking it up, you examined it in hopes for something to tell you who this belonged to. You gave up with a sigh and dropped it into the drawer as well. If you ever met Matchmaker’s master again, you were absolutely going to give him another taste of Storm’s powers before interrogating him thoroughly.
At least you felt the same as always as you went to school. The next day you once again stumbled over something as you got up out of bed. Storm hovered close by as you picked up an actual tie. A man’s tie, so that answered that question, but it gave nothing away about the owner. It was a simple tie in reddish-pink and you shoved it into the drawer, scanning the ground for the second thing left behind.
To your surprise and dismay, you found a slipper. A single slipper and this one was useless too, because it was plain and simple, if very well made and it looked comfortable. Not that you tried it on, you weren’t a weirdo after all, but it told you nothing about its owner. At least aside from the fact that their feet were a lot bigger than yours.
Making a frustrated noise, you shoved the slipper into the drawer and stomped off to get ready for school.
The next morning you found a paint brush on the floor and beside it a lighter. Again, no further hint as to who this belonged to, but the lighter made you suspect your soulmate was a smoker. You weren’t a smoker yourself and you hoped, if you ever met him, he’d be respectful enough to not force you to inhale anything. You put both items in the drawer, which was becoming rather full.
It was also the first time you noticed that something of yours had gone missing. You looked for your newest book, one you had intended to read later today, to no avail. You weren’t a sloppy person, a lifetime of needing to clean up after yourself and not wanting to bother anyone had ensured that. Storm found nothing either when she helped you look.
Suspicious now, you looked through your things thoroughly and found that one of your belts had disappeared, as had one of your shoes from a pair you rarely wore. One of your scarves was gone, along with a cat keychain you had gotten for your birthday. You had found it too pretty to scuff it up by using it.
One of the mugs you had gotten for yourself was gone when you checked the kitchen and even the box of recently purchased snacks could not be found. And finally, you saw that one of your bracelets and one of your necklaces was gone. You didn’t wear jewelry often and therefore hadn’t noticed, but now it was glaringly obvious.
Oh fuck no.
Whoever the poor bastard was who had gotten connected to you was finding shit all over the place as well. Hopefully he didn’t toss it all out and you’d get at least some of that stuff back. Damn it.
Alright, this had rapidly gone from a minor nuisance to an annoying problem. Who knew what was going to disappear next! If it was your underwear, you were going to track Matchmaker’s master down then and there and beat him senseless until he honestly vowed to never use the powers of his Stand ever again.
Fuming, you went to school and noticed that Kujo had a similarly dark expression on his face. No, not quite that, more a thoughtful frown. He seemed to look through his bag and gave his pockets another pat, his frown deepening.
You were both swiftly distracted by your friends showing up to swoon over Jotaro, who moved his leg out of the way so you could sit down. At this point you felt like you were developing a full-blown headache. Your friends noticed your bad mood and asked if everything was alright, one of them discreetly slipping you a little something for cramps, while the other offered you some sweets.
That was really nice. You hadn’t had anyone to care for you aside from Storm for years now. Even Kujo cast you a sidelong glance, though he didn’t say anything. Which was just as well, you hadn’t really spoken with him before, aside from saying hello and handing him things.
Things kept going in that pattern for the next few days and so far, thankfully, nothing important had disappeared yet. You, however, very much noticed it when Jotaro was missing, because your friends fretted and you had no too long legs nearby.
It was a little strange that he was gone. Maybe it was because you were so used to his presence. To occasionally exchange nods and be aware of where his feet were so you wouldn’t accidentally bump into him. It wasn’t like he was responsible for his ridiculous height and if he was so kind as to move his legs out of the way, you could be so kind as to avoid bruising his ankles.
You honestly couldn’t remember Jotaro skipping a day, for all his delinquent behavior rumors he was pretty studious and diligent when it came to his grades. His absence was louder than you had expected and not just because you had to console a group of girls that their dream boy wasn’t there today.
The next day, after you had stumbled over an actual pair of underwear and someone’s pajama top, both swiftly shoved into a second drawer, you saw Kujo again. He was hard to miss, surrounded by relieved girls as he was. You didn’t hurry to catch up, but rather watched everyone’s antics. Jotaro really couldn’t get a break from their arguing, even after getting loud and rude.
Something within you relaxed, however, at seeing him. It would be nice to have everything go back to normal. Especially when everything else about your private life felt so off-kilter.
At the stairs, however, things suddenly got dangerous. You had no idea what exactly happened, since Storm had squeezed your shoulder and you had looked away for a moment to watch a squirrel stuff a large hazelnut into its cheek. But Kujo was gone between one moment and the next and the girls were screaming.
Hurrying over, you peered down the stairs to see him lying at the bottom. You saw a smear of red near one of the steps, but he seemed fine enough. At first glance, at least.
"What happened?" you asked worriedly.
"His foot must’ve slipped, but he was so cool, he caught himself on that branch!" one of the girls gushed back before she hurried down the stairs. Damn, that boy was lucky.
A student from another school passed you by then, green uniform and red hair and long scarf fluttering in the air. You followed a few steps behind him and overheard him introducing himself and offering a handkerchief for Jotaro’s bleeding leg. That was kind of him, even if his expression wasn’t super friendly. Maybe he was just cursed with a resting bitch face.
When Kujo just pocketed the handkerchief without using it, you couldn’t help but step up and offer yours as well. It had a crooked little bit of embroidery on it, something you had tried out of boredom once and it had resulted in a sad looking fried egg. To be honest, it looked like a mess.
"Use it," you told him because the moron needed to staunch the blood flow at least a little. "Do you want me to call someone?"
"No," he answered and after a moment accepted the handkerchief, finally pressing something against the wound that was starting to soak his pant leg with blood. "I’ll just go to the school nurse."
The school wasn’t far to be fair, he’d get there sooner than an ambulance would come to him. The girls were happy to flock around him, offering their arms, which Kujo ignored. You were pretty sure the only reason most of them weren’t glaring at you was because they knew you weren’t interested in Kujo.
You trailed after them, noticing that he wasn’t even limping. Either because it really didn’t hurt or he was trying to be too much of a tough guy to show it. Storm left a little prickle along your shoulder to bring your attention to a nearby, yawning cat, which made you smile.
Class began without Kujo sitting behind you, but you weren’t surprised about that. The nurse wasn’t going to just send him back up to class like he’d merely gotten a paper cut. You settled in for another normal, slightly boring day, right up until all the windows shattered.
Storm had dragged you out of the chair and to the other side of the room before the first shards could even rain down on the ground, not that anyone had noticed you move rapidly.
Everyone was far too busy panicking and shouting and jerking back, some sporting cuts on their skin where a shard had nicked them. You pressed a hand to your racing heart, feeling Storm prickle sharply against your skin in agitation.
"Everyone stay calm," your homeroom teacher called out, her voice sharp but a little high with alarm. She looked like she had gotten a real fright herself. "Please get up and file out of the classroom carefully and orderly and try to avoid stepping onto anything. Is anyone injured and in need of assistance?"
You could already hear a commotion outside from less disciplined classes and everyone was shouting and frightened and teachers were raising their voices, telling everyone to get out of the school as calmly as possible. Your heart was still beating fast by the time you hurried down the stairs, your friends crowding together with you, wondering what had happened.
When you stepped into the courtyard with everyone else, the windows on one side of the school had been shattered entirely from the first to the last floor.
"Must be a gas explosion," one of the nearby teachers said when a student asked. A bad feeling wormed into your gut and soon ambulances and firefighters appeared. You watched as the building was swiftly checked and shortly afterwards the nurse was wheeled out, looking horrible.
What had happened here? Was this really a gas explosion? You had never seen one, but shouldn’t there be flames? Or was that a thing that only happened in movies?
"Everyone will be dismissed for the day," the principal declared soon afterwards. "You have no school for the rest of the week while we sort this mess out and you will be informed how we’ll proceed come Monday."
It would be rather hard to teach in a sea of shards or with windows that were gaping maws of shattered glass, with sharp pieces sticking up like crooked teeth.
The students weren’t allowed back in, but two of the firefighters went back inside once no gas was detected, to collect the bags and shoes, distributing them from class to class.
You milled around a moment longer even after having your stuff back, until you realized that you were looking for Kujo in vain. The guy was nowhere to be seen and since he hadn’t been wheeled out along with the nurse, he must’ve already been sent home before the explosion. There was no reason to stay unnecessarily.
You later went to your martial arts class like usual, keeping a keen eye out on strangers with hats and Stands, but no one accosted you.
The next day you slept in and this time you were awake enough to avoid accidentally stumbling over what your poor soulmate had lost because of you this time. Two books laid on your floor.
One was another art book, this one had a few quick remarks written beneath some art pieces. It must’ve been more important than the other one, the edges were a little worn from use, but otherwise it was well cared for. You didn’t look through it much, aside from looking for a signature or address, but there was a big variety of sketches and drawings.
The other book was a very expensive looking one on marine life with a few notes scribbled in the margins. This too must’ve been more important. The book was a whole lot more educational than the other one had been and someone clearly had used it for studying.
Looking at the two books, you suddenly realized something horrible. The handwriting did not match. At all. All these things hadn’t belonged to just one person.
You pretty much collapsed onto your bed and Storm was taking the items from you, looking through them herself. You buried your face in your hands and whispered a heartfelt, "Fuck."
You hadn’t thought about what sort of person or gender you might be interested in before. It genuinely didn’t matter and you hadn’t cared to be in a relationship either. It didn’t matter if Matchmaker had somehow found you two soulmates instead of one, you were going to ignore both of them after giving them back their stuff. And hopefully getting yours back as well.
Storm put everything away and draped herself over your back like she so often did. You leaned into her hold as much as possible, exhaling heavily.
"Fuck other Stand users," you grumbled and she nodded in heartfelt agreement.
Without having school while the mess with the explosion got sorted, you found yourself with far more free time on your hands. You looked for whatever had gone missing and now it made sense why two items always appeared on your rug and two of yours disappeared. With two soulmates that had gotten fucked over along with you, without even doing anything to deserve that, double the amount of items was necessary.
You were very unhappy to find that your favorite shirt was gone as was your cellphone keychain, a gift from one of your new friends so you and the girls all matched.
Feeling pissed off now and sorry for the poor sods that had gotten affected along with you, you got ready to set out to take care of your weekly shopping. You spent the next hours in a bit of a grumbly mood, though Storm managed to cheer you up after lunch.
The next day you were caught between angry and genuinely sad that one of your favorite storybooks was gone, the one that was well read and a little frayed around the edges. Your father had read you stories from it when you had been younger, one of the best memories you had.
Your cute cat chop-sticks were gone as well, the ones your mother had gotten you for your birthday years ago and that you had always cherished. It had been the last gift she had personally picked for you.
In return you found a big metal pin that looked like some kind of hand and a pocket-sized notebook. This one had been written in instead of drawn and when you realized that those were the personal thoughts of one of your soulmates, you only thumbed through it enough to try and find a name. Nothing.
Great. How exactly had Matchmaker’s master expected this to work, if your random assortment of unwanted items gave you nothing to work with.
Over the next couple of days you woke to two new items and two of yours going missing. By now you had a collection of six ridiculously big shirts, two ridiculously long-legged pants, numerous books and pens and socks, some personalized items like that pin and earring and a bookmark with the words 'Mama loves you very much' written on the back.
It was frustrating. Today you had even lost your schoolbag to this stupid soulmate business. At least that had your name on it, so surely your soulmates, or at least one of them, was bound to show up at some point.
No one showed up, but three days later, you finally, finally got a hint as to who one of these guys were. Kakyoin Noriaki was his name and you were about ready to cry with relief.
Right up until you found out, after a long, long day of searching, that the guy had recently transferred to your school and no one had seen him since. They didn’t give you his address, which was understandable if very frustrating.
Asking the girls if they had heard any rumors as a last resort, one of them remembered a transfer student who had briefly spoken with Jotaro. He apparently had left a bit of an impression.
Oh, right! You had entirely forgotten that dude. Maybe Jotaro knew something. It was worth a try.
Finding the Kujo residence wasn’t hard, those guys were hardly short on money and it came in handy once again to be friends with people who had absolutely massive crushes on Jotaro. The girls knew as much as they had been able to find out and they forked over the information after some teasing and playful warning to stay away from their man. They definitely wouldn’t have to worry about that.
Only, once you rang the doorbell, a man in a suit answered and was very insistent that Jotaro wasn’t home and told you to leave again. Bewildered you stepped away from the Kujo residence, but your frustration quickly won out. This soulmate business needed to end and you didn’t want to bother your classmate beyond finding out if he knew anything about this Kakyoin fellow.
You slipped into an alley and Storm appeared to give you a boost up. Pulling yourself over the wall you quickly hid against the side of the main building without being spotted. It was really useful to have a Stand.
As you carefully made your way around the residence, you realized something very quickly: The lady of the house was sick. Jotaro’s mother was surrounded by doctors and equipment and aside from said doctors, there was absolutely no one else in the house.
You briefly debated going into Jotaro’s bedroom and rooting through his shit like a grade A creep, but you discarded the thought again. You weren’t that desperate to find Kakyoin and besides, the chances that Kujo had his phone number or address lying around willy-nilly were close to nil.
Besides, you weren’t the kind of asshole who violated someone’s privacy like that. You had already done enough questionable stuff by breaking and entering.
You disappeared the way you had come and resigned yourself to waiting for more clues. Maybe soulmate number two would soon drop a hint as to who they were.
One day later, you were, in fact, lucky enough to find out who the second soulmate was. And it was none other than Kujo Jotaro.
You stared at the tattered school uniform jacket you held in your hands, the name sewn in at the back of the collar and you sighed heavily. Really? You had just been at the guy’s house. Also, what the fuck had happened to his jacket? Did someone maul the guy?
You were confused, however, as you trudged to the Kujo residence once again. Why had Jotaro and Kakyoin been chosen as your 'soulmates'? You had barely interacted with the former and not at all with the latter. It made no sense, but then again, nothing about this did.
"I need to speak with Kujo Jotaro," you said when yet another man in a suit opened the door. "It’s important."
"The young master isn’t home at the moment," the man said, polite but with a firm undertone to that more or less told you to fuck off.
"Do you know when he’ll be back?" you asked, unwilling to be brushed off just like that.
You wanted this soulmate mess done and dealt with and you doubted that Jotaro was particularly happy about it either. Now that you knew it was him, you even recognized the hand pin as the one that he usually had on his hat. He probably would be happy to get his stuff back.
"In the foreseeable future," the man said, still polite. "If you’d like, you can leave a message for him."
That was probably the best you were going to get. "Sure, tell him his classmate needs to speak to him about something important." You left your name and phone number with the guy, who shut the door in your face the moment he was done writing it down.
"Rude," you muttered under your breath and trudged back home. At least you knew who had been bound to you by Matchmaker and that meant this mess could and would be resolved soon enough.
You made sure to keep your wallet and phone on you as you snuggled into bed and Storm smoothed down the blanket. She enjoyed cuddling with you, but she had rediscovered her joy for finger-painting recently. She liked to do so while you slept since it allowed her to guard you at the same time.
So far, nothing you had ever been in direct contact with while sleeping had disappeared and you really didn’t want to lose any of the stuff you actually needed to get by.
"Good night," you murmured and Storm gave your shoulder a gentle pat. Paper rustled soon and she needed no light to paint, so you let yourself be lulled to sleep by the quiet, soft noises she made.
You were, therefore, utterly unprepared for the sight of a green glowing, masked Stand crouching at the end of your bed with a curiously titled head when you woke the next day. Storm was nowhere to be seen.
Screaming and throwing your pillow maybe wasn’t the most heroic thing you could have done, but you were willing to forgive yourself considering the circumstances.
You leapt out of bed and away from the Stand, who remained calm and quiet and you snarled, "Who the fuck are you?"
***
Countless miles away, Noriaki opened his eyes in a hotel room on their journey to Egypt to see an unfamiliar Stand crouching right over him, glowing eyes narrowed menacingly. Hierophant didn’t appear when he called him, though he could still sense that his Stand was somewhere, if far, far away.
He didn’t waste a second to rapidly put distance between himself and the unfamiliar Stand, who straightened smoothly to look at him.
The Stand looked humanoid, if on the slimmer and feminine side, with a body that seemed to consisted of barely contained storm clouds, and white glowing, pupil-less eyes that watched him intensely. The Stand was silent, but the feeling of electricity and smell of ozone in the air was unmistakeable.
Jotaro had woken in the bed beside him, Star Platinum appearing in all its serious, intimidating, powerful glory and he secretly felt more at ease. He noticed that the unfamiliar Stand held a cat charm clutched in one hand, one of the strange items that had started to appear around Jotaro and he.
"Who are you?" Noriaki asked and when he failed to summon his Stand once again, unease creeping through his limbs, he added, "Where is Hierophant Green?"