ninety-nine balloons (part 4 x fem!reader)

26| He Hates You

:3

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Perhaps it could be likened to the emotion you feel when on a scathing day where the heat cracks at your ears, you are flushed with a sudden gust of breeze that embalms you in a beautiful embrace of relief, every inch of your soul is touched with release. The wind will only last a moment despite your effort to savor it, and immediately the world returns to its boil.

Okuyasu could feel that wave of temperature sweat him like an assault. That shooting high of finding you-- he knew it was you, it had to be, naturally, because any other answer was not acceptable-- then came and struck him down to the earth. 

In the dim light of the nearby streetlamp, Ninety-Nine Balloons leans eerily still, its pilot mask scuffed and cut in every place. Josuke pressed his lips flat at its pause, his eyes, turned pin-pricked by fear, darted between the pair of incandescent red eyes in the dark, and the dead stand.

Suddenly, it springs to life, jumping on its strings with an unsettling, jerky motion. Each leap is chaotic, as if it's fighting against the invisible strings that bind it animate. The empty flopping limbs crackle ominously, and the twang of the taut strings, perhaps conducting from the inside of the stand, pierces the silence, echoing like a haunting melody. Its glassy mask seemed to glare into the shadows over Josuke's shoulder, as if seeking something—or someone.

With each bounce, the puppet contorts unnaturally, a grotesque marionette dancing to a sinister rhythm. The dim light casts long, distorted shadows on the walls like flames licking up its side. The atmosphere thickens with dread, as the duo can't shake the feeling that something malevolent lurks just beyond the stands concerning conduction. 

And with each unnatural leap, it flails wildly. Shadows flicker across its cracked visor, and a chill runs through the air-- Okuyasu did not feel that same relief from before. He dreaded the sensation that ran through his nerves, pricking his senses.

Fear is a primal emotion that grips the mind and body, it manifests as a sudden chill or a tightening in the chest. For the brief times Josuke would listen to Jotaro talk biology, he remembers him saying this.

It can create an overwhelming sense of dread, making the heart race and breath come in quick gasps. In its grip, the world can seem distorted, colors muted, and sounds amplified—each creak or whisper echoing in the silence.

Ninety-Nine Balloons continued to throw itself into the air like a force threatening to escape it from every point in its body. A quiet call emerges from the split in the boarded window, but it goes unheard.

He was thrown to the ground by how forcefully he had to throw up. Okuyasu didn't even process it was Josuke who was trying to pick him up to pull him away before he began thrashing, his vision invaded by a blurring sense of reality and his tongue tasting a dangerous sour.

His hand outstretched to the dancing red figure growing distant from him now, he didn't know if he meant to push it away or bring it closer. His body wouldn't tell him.

Despite his efforts Josuke managed to wring him by the collar and drag him backward, and the call that went unheard remained only a noise against the singing night.

The body dropped. Okuyasu narrowed his eyes to try and find the source of the sudden thud that punctuated the finality of it all, but he could only see a still red shape motionless on the ground. 99 Balloons was no longer moving.

"It's her-" He chokes on his own sour spit, and retches. "Josuke stop-"

"Dude something is seriously fucking wrong- we need to call Jotaro we need to get help-"