JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Thin Air

Chapter Twenty-Five: What Once Was (Part III)

Josuke made up an excuse to his colleagues to ascend the stairs of the old library building. The third and highest floor was a single, large room that was vaguely reminiscent of an attic. This room was where books of rare and high value were kept, inaccessible to most of the public. These weren't books that just anyone could take out. This made it the only possible location for Terunosuke Miyamoto to be residing in, not that he could move out of it anyway.

Rumours had been circling around for years in Morioh that there was a book that people could sometimes hear making noises, noises that sounded too human. It had practically become an urban legend. But Josuke was one of the only people who knew better than that; he had created it himself. Turning Miyamoto into such a state was the only fitting punishment for a man who used Josuke's mother and one of his closest friends as collaterals in an attempt to please a heartless serial killer who didn't even care if he existed or not. Miyamoto was the lowest of the low to Josuke.

Josuke walked and foraged around the room for some time, looking for his enemy. Eventually, the book was in his hands. He studied it and saw that it hadn't changed in the 18 or so years since had last seen it. He felt vibrations coming from it as he opened its covers. These were anything but vibrations; they were calls; calls for help. Miyamoto's conscience had remained intact all these years, and he still longed to escape his now terrible state of existence.

"It's been a while, huh?" Josuke told the book.

"Help me!" the book cried, albeit muffled.

"Help you? Oh, I may be able to help you. But since you're a living piece of trash, I won't guarantee anything. Tell me... who the hell is J. Miyamoto? Who are they to you?"

Only muffled noises came from the book as a response.

"Oh, that's right. You're a book now, you can't do a whole lot of talking like that. I guess I'll have to restore your filthy ass, then. But then I'm gonna have to turn you back into a book again. Or should I be a bit more generous and have Rohan Kishibe make your Stand useless as well as your arms and legs? You won't be much different from a book, anyhow,"

Josuke laughed. As morbid as it was, mentally torturing the man who had hurt him and his loved ones made him feel exhilarated.

"Enough talking. I need answers. Crazy Diamond!" 

Josuke had called his Stand out, but it hadn't manifested itself.

"Crazy Diamond?" he said, now confused. He didn't know why his Stand wasn't hovering behind him, despite having made the intention to have it by his side. "Why aren't you here?"

"Oh, my dear Inspector," someone's voice said from inside the room. It didn't belong to Miyamoto or Josuke. "You seem to be wasting your time."

"Huh? Who said that?" Josuke said, carefully looking around. There was not a chance someone could have followed him up to the third floor, he'd made sure of it.

"I'm the one you're going to deal with." A voice, indisputably Australian, said. It had a robotic echo to it.

A grey, metallic hand slowly exited the book. It wasn't stuck in between the pages. It looked like it phased out of the book that was Terunosuke Miyamoto. Soon, an entire body appeared. It was humanoid. It was the size of an average man, and although it had a slim build, its appearance certainly made it intimidating. Its arms, head and legs were grey, almost glimmering. Its torso and pelvis were covered in a thin bronze armor. Its forehead was surrounded by a thin, plastic-like ring that resembled a phonograph record. Its eyes were magenta rhombuses and its mouth was open, bearing its teeth which were fixed in a grin-like manner.

"A Stand!"

Josuke dropped the book and distanced himself about three meters from it and the Stand. It certainly didn't belong to Miyamoto. He wouldn't have been able to use it in his state anyway.