Best Laid Plans

1888: Poison!

“Father! That’s no fair! We wanted to be the first to tell you!” JoJo pouted at his father, who simply laughed. Dio suppressed a small smirk—the expression was very amusing on the bigger boy—and lay his hand on JoJo’s shoulder.

“He’s right though Father,” Dio said. “We won a great victory for the team today, we should have been the first to tell you.”

Lord Joestar smiled at his sons and Dio could feel the warmth coming from the kindly old man. Seven years ago, Dio would never have thought that this man in front of him would become a father to him. He smiled softly, thinking of the early days of his life at the Joestar Estate. Days spent slaving over schoolwork, afternoons running across the fields with JoJo, and skipping stones across the river.

Dio was broken out of his reverie by Lord Joestar’s coughing. For a few seconds, the man looked as if he might cough himself to death, but he eventually recovered and reached for a glass of water resting beside his bed. Dio felt his eyebrows knit together in concern and saw JoJo’s do the same.

The illness had started out innocuous at first—just a simple cough. But it had quickly grown worse and none of the doctors could say what was wrong. By all accounts, Lord Joestar should be getting better every day, not worse. Dio had only seen something like that once, and he sincerely hoped it wasn’t that.

But, it was difficult for Dio to ignore the fact that Lord Joestar was suffering from the exact same symptoms that Dario had suffered under the poison Dio had given him.

“You boys run along now,” Lord Joestar was saying. “You both have better things to do than watch over me—surely you have exams to study for Dio?”

Dio shuddered.

“No, thankfully,” He preferred not to remember the exams—he ended up rushing through many of the questions as he watched the sand trickle away in the hourglass. He sincerely hoped he never had to experience that again. “But we’ll leave you to recover now Father.”

“Goodbye, Father! Get well soon!” JoJo encouraged his father as Dio steered him out of the room.

The two walked down the hallway, passing Erina Pendleton carrying a tray with medicine towards Lord Joestars room.

Erina.

Carrying the medicine.

Shit.

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Erina had not spent seven years in India for nothing. It had been easy on her return to rekindle the relationship between her and Jonathan, especially when she and her father were called to the Joestar Mansion to tend to Lord Joestar. She spent time with Jonathan every day and she was certain she could convince him to marry her. And Lord Joestar’s illness had given her the perfect opportunity.

Jonathan had once mentioned that Dio’s father had died of a coughing illness. He’d brought it up in one of their first meetings after her return, telling her how glad he was that Dario had died, and of the way he’d treated Dio.

Naturally, Erina had acted suitably horrified (“How could anyone do that to their own child!”), but she’d already connected the dots. To her, it was obvious that Dio had poisoned his father and gotten away with it very nicely. 

She was almost impressed.

Now, all Erina had to do was plant the seeds in Jonathan’s mind and he’d believe Dio was at fault for Lord Joestar’s illness.

Easy. And so far Dio hadn’t even suspected her.

She smiled softly, before knocking on Lord Joestar’s door.

When he responded, she pushed the door open and lay the tray beside the bed, watching him drink the poison, before filling up his glass of water and leaving the room.

Everything was going according to plan.

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Jonathan was spending the evening doing what he did in nearly all of his spare moments—studying the Stone Mask. 

He still hadn’t figured out its purpose, but he felt like he was close to a breakthrough. Any day now, he was certain! Soon, he would understand the mysterious masks’ purpose!

He flipped through his notebook, studying his sketches, hoping to find some clue he’d missed. They revealed no hidden secrets, not a single clue. How could it? He’d written the notes himself, everything he’d discovered since that day seven years prior, with sketches of the mask littered throughout.

Sighing, he stood up and walked to the bookshelf. Perhaps there was something in one of the many books in the library.

Pushing a ladder up against the shelf, he climbed, reaching for one off of the top shelf. As he grabbed it, he knocked down a suitcase off the top of the bookcase. It tumbled down, scattering its contents all over the floor, the loud noise breaking the usual silence of the library.

Book tucked under his arm, Jonathan climbed back down the ladder. He began to pick up the books, placing them back in the suitcase.

These are father’s, Jonathan noticed, I wonder—hold on, what’s this?

‘This’ turned out to be a letter. 

His curiosity overwhelmed him and he opened it, eyes skimming the words.

Dario Brando? This is from Dio’s father! That bastard, after what he did to Dio, he deserved to die! 

The thought faded quickly as he read the letter and the pieces began to fall into place.

Had Dio really poisoned Dario?

There’s only one way to find out, Jonathan thought, and he ran to find Dio.