PSEUMINO | VENTO AUREO

27 | chase.

═ ☆. YOU WATCHED THE SCISSORS, wondering what Sale was doing to them. It was easier than looking down at the ground and focusing on the weightless feeling in your stomach.

"Who gives a shit?" Risotto spat. Nonetheless, the needles under Sale's skin faltered.

Sale grinned. He seemed to have no problem balancing on the book now. "You know why things move, right? Kinetic energy and all that? Well, Kraft Work lets me control that."

You were too caught up trying to wrap your heads around the ability to register the absurdity of Sale's Stand being named Kraft Work.

"What are you trying to say?" Trish asked.

"If I take away something's kinetic energy, it freezes in place," Sale continued, clearly enjoying this. He hadn't stopped tapping on the scissors. "But when I start adding energy?"

What's the opposite of something frozen in place?

You made a muffled noise through your gag. If it had been coherent, it would have sounded like—

"Duck!" Trish shrieked.

With one last tap, the scissors shot forward like a bullet. Sale cackled gleefully as it narrowly missed Trish and Risotto's heads. He hopped down to a book a few feet lower. Apparently, whoever he'd been waiting for had arrived. You tried to make out who the person getting out of the car was. Sale reached the ground and exchanged a few harried words with them before shoving them and getting into the driver's seat. All at once, Kraft Work released its ability and you were falling the last few metres to the ground. Air whistled past your face, and you braced themselves for the impact.

"Oof." Zucchero nearly buckled underneath your weight, bucking into the side of the car as he caught them.

"Ah, fuck, it's you?"

With that, he tossed you unceremoniously into the backseat.

‣ ♡. ⁀

Giorno was chatting up a trio of pretty girls when a red car peeled out of the parking lot with a screech, leaving the smell of burned rubber hanging in the air. Giorno and the girls stared after it, wondering what had the driver in such a hurry.

"Anyways," one of the girls said flippantly. "When's your next party, Giorno?"

Giorno smiled faintly. "I'll have to see. It's been pretty—"

Trish leapt over the side of the Maserati.

"Go!" she cried. "Follow that car!"

"Why—"

Risotto vaulted into his seat. "Zucchero and Sale have got them in the backseat. Drive!"

Giorno only needed to hear your name to stomp down on the gas. The group of girls squealed in surprise as the car flew out of the parking lot and after the red car.

"What happened?" Giorno shouted, his hair a wild tangle in the fast-moving air.

"Sale happened," Trish answered, the colour high in her cheeks. "He tied them up and then pushed them out the window. His Stand Kraft Work manipulates kinetic energy. It allows him to lock things in place and then fire them like projectiles."

Giorno swerved around a large van. The cars behind him honked loudly.

"Isn't Zucchero supposed to be in jail?"

"Signor D probably bailed him out."

Giorno was weaving between lanes so sporadically he didn't bother reaching for the blinker. "Why didn't you use Metallica, Risotto?"