[reuploading till chapter 20]
The Black Sperm's antenna swayed with the particular authority of someone who considers themselves owed a significant debt.
"To save your worthless life," it declared, "this great lord has personally sold his precious labor." It leaned closer to the bewildered boy, expression dripping with arrogance. "From today onward, you will offer ten catties of beef every single day. If you're short by even one ounce, I will crawl into your nostrils and make myself at home. Understood?"
Noriaki Kakyoin stared at the pitch-black creature, scalp prickling. In that moment it felt less like a Stand and more like a demon from some lower circle extorting him in a hospital bed. But with his head locked between Jotaro's hands and a parasitic organism still attached to the inside of his skull, he was in no position to argue.
"Enough nonsense — it's coming out!" Jotaro barked.
"Ora!"
Star Platinum's hand yanked outward with brutal, controlled force.
Squelch.
The grotesque, spider-like Flesh Bud tore free at last, its roots dragging out in long, thin, writhing strands. Kakyoin's forehead was left slick with viscous residue, the tentacles twitching violently in open air, as if still searching for somewhere to go.
Star Platinum seized two of the tentacles, twisted, and pulled again — ripping out the pulsing core of flesh in a single decisive motion and holding it away from any body at arm's length.
"Now! Overdrive!"
Joseph's hand flashed gold.
Hamon condensed into a sharp, focused arc as his palm cleaved downward.
The instant the Hamon struck, the Flesh Bud convulsed violently — then disintegrated. It came apart in a burst of fine grey ash that drifted across the floor like dust from something ancient, because it was: born from cells that had lived inside a stolen body for a hundred years, it was absolutely helpless before the energy of the sun.
"...Hah."
Joseph let out a long, shaky breath and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Oh my God. It worked. No brain damage — none at all. That's nothing short of a miracle."
The Black Sperm dispersed, scampering back toward Shintaro — though not before a few of them used Kakyoin's face as a launching pad, stomping on it with vindictive satisfaction before leaping to the ground.
Joseph watched the retreating swarm with a complicated expression.
"This was only possible because of Shintaro's Stand..." He paused. "Even if it does look, ah — unique."
Jotaro released his grip and straightened. He glanced at Shintaro, tugged the brim of his hat down, and spoke without ceremony.
"Nice job."
Shintaro blinked, then nodded once.
"Mmm."
The words were few. Coming from Jotaro, they carried weight anyway.
"Hahahaha! As expected of my grandson!" Joseph clapped Jotaro on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a smaller man. "Decisive when it counts, every time!"
Kakyoin groaned and pressed his palm slowly to his forehead, dizziness washing visibly across his face as consciousness fully returned. He looked up at the group surrounding him.
"Why..." His voice was rough, bewildered. "Why did you risk yourselves to save me...?"
Jotaro turned toward the window. Sunlight lay across his shoulders. He was quiet for a long moment.
"Who knows," he said.
"Hey, tentacle guy!" A Black Sperm popped from Shintaro's collar, pointing furiously. "Don't forget my beef!"
Kakyoin stared at it. "...You're all completely insane."
Shintaro pushed the creature firmly back down and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. That's my Stand — bad mouth, good work ethic. Anyway — nice to meet you. I'm Shintaro. That's Jotaro, you can call him JoJo, and the tall one is Mr. Joseph."
"Noriaki... Kakyoin," he replied, still sounding slightly stunned.
Before anything else could be said, Holly appeared in the doorway carrying the medical kit. She knelt beside Kakyoin immediately, treating his wound with focused, gentle efficiency, then turned to bandage Shintaro's arm as well.
"You poor child," she said softly to Kakyoin. "Rest now. You were another victim of DIO."
That night, Joseph arranged for Kakyoin to stay in the same room as Shintaro.
Neither Jotaro nor Shintaro returned to school. No one questioned it.
All day, Shintaro trained with Joseph, refining his Hamon. At lunchtime, he stubbornly ate last despite the Black Sperm's shrill, continuous protests — their collective fury at being made to wait was audible from across the room in small, indignant chirps.
By evening, their number had climbed to fifteen thousand.
After dinner, it surged again. Twenty thousand.
Shintaro had stopped entering his mental space voluntarily. The noise was genuinely overwhelming now. Instead, he kept a single Black Spirit active for company, letting it sit on his shoulder and carry on a manageable one-sided conversation while he went over Hamon forms in his head.
That night, with Kakyoin sleeping quietly in the other bed, a small Black Spirit poked its head out and opened its mouth.
Shintaro pinched it gently by the antenna.
"Shh. He's asleep. We'll talk tomorrow."
The creature stared at the sleeping Kakyoin with open resentment, then shrank back into his collar without a sound.
The next morning.
Sunlight moved through the paper windows in soft rectangles, touching the tatami in warm patches.
Shintaro and Jotaro stood dressed at the gate, ready to leave.
Jotaro took one step forward — and paused.
"...Why hasn't Mom come to see us off?" he muttered, almost to himself, with the studied casualness of a person who is asking something they already slightly know the answer to and don't want to examine too closely.
Shintaro caught the shift. "JoJo — let's check. We've got time."
They turned back.
In the kitchen, Avdol had stopped still.
Holly lay collapsed beneath the open refrigerator door, cheeks flushed, breathing shallow and labored. Avdol crouched and touched her forehead — and recoiled sharply.
"This temperature..." He shook his head. "This isn't a normal fever."
He carefully pulled back the collar of her nightgown.
Across her pale skin, thorny green vines were slowly emerging — curling, spreading, entwining her with the patient, unhurried certainty of something that has been growing in the dark for a while.
"A Stand...?"
"No," Avdol whispered. His voice had gone quiet in a particular way. "If this continues... it will kill her."
Footsteps came from the hallway.
Jotaro. Shintaro. Then Joseph — and the moment he saw Holly on the kitchen floor, the composure he'd maintained through every difficult conversation shattered entirely.
"HOLLY!"
He grabbed Jotaro by the collar with both hands, his voice breaking.
"This is exactly what I feared — I knew she might not be strong enough to withstand the soul bond triggered by DIO!"
Jotaro shoved his hands off, steadying himself.
"Tell me the solution," he said. The cold in his voice wasn't indifference — it was the only form of control he had left.
Shintaro caught Joseph before he stumbled.
Joseph straightened slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter and worse for it.
"There is only one way."
"...Find DIO," Jotaro said.
"And kill him."
Silence settled. Jotaro's fists closed — slowly, completely, until the knuckles went white.
"Then tell me," he said. "Where is DIO?"
Later, in the living room. The Spirit Photography photos were spread across the table in a line.
"No matter how many times I use Hermit Purple," Joseph said, voice gone hollow, "the photos only ever show his back. We can't see his face. We can't identify the location."
Avdol's head was low. "We've searched every angle we can reach. No leads."
Shintaro picked up one of the photos and studied it carefully.
"...Mr. Avdol."
"Yes?"
"You met DIO four months ago," Shintaro said slowly. "In Egypt."
He looked up.
"Is it possible he's still there?"
The room went very quiet.
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