JJBA x Readers Volume 2

You've Made Yourself Clear entire draft

The rain continued to fall, fitting alongside the non-stop soppy love songs on the radio. Koichi was distraught. He couldn't work, Jotaro couldn't work. The only connecting thought in their minds was you. The rings lay in Jotaro's pocket, alongside a skin sample pot. Hours had passed and Jotaro tried his utmost to ignore the pain he was feeling, convincing himself that checking Giorno's identity was the best thing to do. Koichi pierced his thoughts all of a sudden, repeating an email from the Speedwagon Foundation back to Jotaro. There was a ball in Venice tomorrow, where the Foundation had been tipped off about some plans regarding Passione. There was no real understanding for why they were going to be there, but there was a link to print off tickets, as many as four if he so needed. He wouldn't even need three now, since Mrs Kujo wasn't going. Standing up, Jotaro threw his coat on and peered outside, judging the best way to go to the airport.
"I'm going to go and look for her," he said bluntly, approaching the door.
"But, Mr Jotaro," Koichi whined, worried he was letting his emotions take priority. "She said she was going home and Mrs Y/N isn't someone who minces her words." The older man glared, unable to accept the truth. You probably had left him for good, all because he was fucked up from that journey to Egypt all those years ago. All because the only thing he wanted to do was protect the things dearest to him, his precious daughter and wife. Swallowing tears, he turned his face away from the teen, avoiding an emotional burst.
"You're right. Where is the brooch?" Jumping up to fetch it, there was a rummaging over his talk. "There'll be fingerprints on it. If there is we can catch the next plane back to Japan and call it a day." Koichi slid his hand deeply in each of the pockets, finding nothing but papers and pens.
"Th-There's nothing there..."
"Huh?" Drawers, cupboards, shelves and bags were all searched top to bottom, turning up zilch. Stomping over to the bed, Jotaro flung himself onto it, cradling his head in his hands.
"What is it, Mr Jotaro?"
"She's got the brooch. I should have known. She's so fucking smart." A moment of silence passed, before the white clad biologist pulled himself together. Returning to his feet with a sigh, Koichi awaited his judgement. "We're going to Venice."

Sat on the plane, Jotaro just couldn't get comfortable. He squirmed and shifted his elbows, trying desperately not to think about your previous argument. Even though he wanted to apologise, it was too late for that, so wasting his energy on saying sorry was stupid. The only reason he hadn't tried to call was because he was too embarrassed, but he told Koichi it was because you wouldn't answer it anyway if you were flying back to America, a journey that took over 14 hours. A kick against his seat pulled him out of his useless ruminating, forcing him to turn and see who it was.
"We're landing soon, love," a female voice said. Blinking, Jotaro tested his eyesight again to check he wasn't seeing things. Behind him was a woman with no hands, wrists dripping with blood as if her limbs had been sawn off. Wasn't she feeling any pain? "I've never been to Venice before." Heightening his line of sight, he recognised the face as yours, admiring the scenery through the window.
"Y/N?"
There was no answer. It was as if he wasn't there. Peering round the other side of the chair, the man you were with wore a periwinkle suit, pressed and pristine. Gulping, shivers went through his spine when he noticed the skull emblem on his tie, jumping out at him like it was moving. Much to Jotaro's horror, he was holding a single severed hand, caressing it and commenting on the two rings upon it's finger!
"Yoshikage, I do wish you'd stop talking about those rings. Those are off Jotaro Kujo." Frowning, you looked directly at JoJo, seeing straight through him. The stare frightened him, since it was almost inhuman.
"My Dear, you're no longer Mrs Kujo. That name doesn't deserve to cross your lips." Suddenly, Kira's eyes snapped up to face Jotaro in his seat, as if they were acknowledging his presence. "Ah, there he is now. Care to sort him out?"
Before he could move or even take out his Stand, which he inconveniently forgot he had, you leapt through the seats, guiding your severed hands to strangle him. Hands round his neck, he choked out apologies, crying profusely as you stared into him like an inhuman demon. No matter how much Kujo shook you off, your hands stayed put around his neck as your body laughed, haunting amusement causing him to breathe heavily and jolt forward in a sweat.
Bad dream. No, fucking utter nightmare.