Yasuho couldn't bear to leave Inori.
This sudden trip to a parallel world had been like a wild dream—the kind you have after passing out on the couch from too much fun. And in this dream, she'd encountered one impossible thing after another.
She'd gained a sister and a brother, a gentle and loving mother, a successful father. She'd had a simple, easygoing stretch of high school life. Morioh in 1999 was even more picturesque and peaceful than in 2008... if you didn't count the surplus of Stand users.
Oh, right—Yoshikage Kira. That name was the same as Holy-san's son. Probably just a coincidence, two people sharing a name.
She thought of the Wall Eyes at Lovers' Cape. After pulling Josuke out of the ground, they'd gone to Yoshikage Kira's home, where she found an elegant hand sculpture on display and a painting of the Mona Lisa. That Kira had seemed quite taken with "hands" as well.
Just a coincidence, surely. Besides, Holy-san's son was already dead.
Setting all that aside, the most extraordinary part of this journey was Inori—someone who shared her identity as a world-crosser, from the distant future, and a Stand user of staggering power.
—The promise to travel to Italy together... that would have to be called off.
The inevitable sorrow of parting filled this strong, spirited girl's eyes with tears, and she broke down sobbing.
"Don't worry."
Inori walked over and pulled Yasuho into a hug, one hand gently stroking her hair.
"One day, I'll come see you."
"We'll meet again, Yasuho."
—There was no particular reason for it, but Inori had a faint, inexplicable feeling.
"I... sniff... Inori-chan..."
Yasuho hugged her back and buried her face in the softness of Inori's shoulder.
Their bond wasn't anything stronger than gold. At most, they were close friends—nothing more. But after every truth had been laid bare, they'd cooperated in unspoken sync, pooling their strength to dismantle Kira's temporal trap.
Yasuho truly considered Inori her only real friend. It wasn't the fumbling, half-formed affection she felt for Josuke—this was something that could only exist between women. More importantly, they were kindred spirits: both travelers lost in the currents of time and space. Yasuho could go home—but where was Inori's home? Would she have to keep wandering like this forever?
"Okay, no more crying. I'm lifting Great Days now~"
Inori hadn't intended to get emotional, but feelings were contagious—watch someone laugh and you can't help smiling, watch someone cry and the tears creep in. Seeing Yasuho fall apart had stirred something.
But she was still herself—the woman who had conquered the fate of the Apocalypse Virus and defeated the invincible time-manipulating Stand that was Killer Queen. She wasn't going to cry easily.
Inori let go of Yasuho, held back what she could, and kept smiling.
"I won't forget you, Inori-chan! No matter whether we ever meet again—I'll always remember you! This bizarre Morioh of 1999, and everything that happened between us!"
Yasuho's voice broke. Her eyes were puffy and pink, her face streaked with tears.
—In farewell, an undying will.
"Mm~"
Inori knew Yasuho would remember her.
And Inori, too, would never forget Yasuho Hirose. Wherever her road led next, no matter how many unforeseen dangers and hardships awaited, she would remember this night at Lovers' Cape in Morioh—this strange, miraculous evening in 1999, and the promise she'd made.
"We'll meet again in the next Morioh... Yasuho."
—Killer Queen. Fourth Bomb.
The big pink cat raised its hand in a simple thumbs-up.
—Great Days.
Yes. When the day came for them to meet again, it would surely be... the greatest day.
...
...
"Pff... ughh—!"
On the road nearest Lovers' Cape, a man in a tattered suit crawled forward on his belly, dragging a long trail of blood behind him. He couldn't stand anymore. Shattered bones had punctured his organs, so every inch he clawed forward cost him a mouthful of bloody foam. He was a pitiful sight.
This man was Kosaku Kawajiri—or rather, Yoshikage Kira.
He still hadn't realized he'd lost his Stand. His body was in too much agony to attempt summoning it. He had to get medical help first.
—I... I have to survive. No matter what it takes, I have to live. I, Yoshikage Kira, am not ready to die here!
He dragged himself a little further, then heard the rapid click of high heels. Mustering what remained of his strength, he raised his head. Blood had dried over his eyelids; prying them open took enormous effort.
"Are you okay?"
Her voice was gentle. A nurse.
She was panicking—she'd never seen anyone this mangled who could still move.
A fire had broken out at a nearby inn, bringing two fire trucks and an ambulance to the area. Only one nurse stationed on the perimeter had noticed Kira's sudden appearance behind the cordon. Following her instinct as a medical professional, she'd hurried over to assess his injuries.
"Can you see my hand? Hey—stay with me!"
She raised her hand and waved it in front of his face.
But the gesture made the half-dead man's eyes light up. He seized her hand with a reflex action.
"Your hand... the joints and skin are so soft. And these white little fingers are adorable... would you mind if I just... rubbed them against my face a little?"
"Huh?"
The nurse's brain short-circuited.
"If I hold it against my face like this, it makes everything feel so peaceful... ahh... ahh~~~"
Without waiting for permission, the man—face caked in blood—pressed his filthy cheek against her hand and rubbed back and forth, emitting deeply unsettling sounds of pleasure.
The nurse's first instinct was to slap him away, but one look at those horrific injuries drained her resolve.
"It... it goes back to when I was a kid..."
"Leonardo da Vinci has a famous painting called the Mona Lisa. When I saw it for the first time—how should I put this—it's crude, but... I got a boner."
"E-even if you say that, I really—"
The nurse had had enough. She wrenched her hand free from Kira's face and ran toward the ambulance to call for help.
—Huh? Why did I tell that woman all of that?
The feel of the nurse's soft hand had restored a sliver of Kira's awareness. He tried to summon Killer Queen now—activate the Third Bomb, rewind to yesterday—
No response. Killer Queen wouldn't come.
—Is that... Killer Queen?
Kira's fading gaze caught a glint of light hidden in the tree line beside the road.
It was the woman with the long pink hair. She'd followed him—and beside her stood... Killer Queen?
—So I've already lost Killer Queen. Haha... I see. No wonder I, Yoshikage Kira, have been crawling all this time without being able to summon it.
—I've lost. I'm going to die.
—But... everything feels so much lighter now. I'm finally free from running and hiding.
Kira collapsed face-down onto the pavement. He had one last breath in him, but his face wore a smile of pure release and satisfaction.
Inori's figure vanished—King Crimson's ability. She was gone.
—Where did she go?
"Ah! The ambulance! How—what's going on? I definitely set the parking brake!"
"Stop it! Someone's lying behind—there's someone behind it!"
The driver's and the nurse's screams overlapped in a frantic chorus.
The ambulance—its parking brake released by some inexplicable force—rolled down the slope of the road and directly over Yoshikage Kira's face. The wheel caught on his skull and ground to a halt.
Crunch.
Yoshikage Kira—dead.