★ ☆ Jojo's Bizarre Adventure oneshots ☆ ★

Morioh ~ Life is Beautiful

Hey, so there is content that suggests death and depression and suicide in here. and also i strait up dont suggest it and say it. so uH dont read if youre sensitive to that content. (working on a gio fluff goofy oneshot so look foreward to that)

The long day had just begun in the office. Rohan Kishibe, the once successful manga artist, clocked in. His day was always the same. Clock in, sit down, figure some numbers, clock out, rinse and repeat. It was painstakingly boring to the once successful writer.

Two years ago, his manga, Pink Dark Boy, came to an end, when the main antagonist was indirectly killed by the protagonist and his friends, who had successfully tracked him down after a body swap. He attempted to write other works, however they were never as successful. The once artist was washed up.

He sat down, his mind preoccupied by what could have been if he hadn't finished his manga. His green, slicked back hair and sharp green suit gave him a professional aura, however the blank expression made him seem intimidating. He sighed, and lay his head down on his desk. He wished to go back.

A knock on the side of his cubicle jolted him back to reality. "Kishibe," His boss began, as the artist looked at him with vacant eyes. "Your last report was absolutely abhorrent, the numbers were incorrect, and what is this?" The man asked. Rohan smiled. "My Pink Dark Boy." His boss slammed the paper on the desk, Rohan's doodle covering the right margin. "Last warning, Kishibe. Mess this up, and youre fired." He said, before walking out. Rohan smiled, as he looked down on his small personification, and thought of better days.

Isnt life beautiful?

~

A small group of seven gathered around a large gaping hole in the ground. The polished wooden box beside it held the remains of Joseph Joestar. A woman with black hair wailed as she held her son close. Tears streamed down the boys face, as well. The Frenchman stared at the closed box, "Monsieur Joestar..." He mumbled, as a hand rested on his shoulder. The hand belonged the deceased's grandson. The man looked over to him. His lip quivered, as he stared at the box. "Mama! I can't believe he's gone!" an older woman yelled as she held on to her elderly mother. "Mom, it's not gonna change anything to be in denial." The man with the quivering lip said, as his voice cracked with grief. He tried to stand firm for his family, as they all cried.

The box slowly made its way down into the hole. "Joseph! Oh god! Joseph!" The black haired woman screamed, trying to claw her way to the coffin. "Mom! Stop!" Her son yelled, as he grabbed her. Jotaro looked away, as tears welled in his eyes.

After the funeral, he opened his apartment door, and looked at his phone. The message on the screen was sent from the girl he had been seeing. 'I know this is awful, telling you over text and on the day of your grandfathers funeral and everything, but I cant do this anymore. I tried to love you, but I cant and I'm sorry.' Tears finally cascaded down the mans cheeks, as he sobbed freely in his now empty apartment.

Isnt life beautiful?

~

The short male lay in his bed, head thrown back as the television played inaudibly. He let out a sigh, as he thought of his friends, Josuke, Okuyaso, Jotaro, and Rohan. He knew they all had plans today, and couldn't come visit him, but it had been hard being alone in this place since Yukako left him. The empty sterile white room began closing in on him when the door suddenly opened. A man with a heavy white coat entered the room, his thick glasses perched on his face, as he held a clipboard. A look of sadness and distaste donned his face. "Hirose-san," He began, "The results from our last test came in." He adjusted his glasses. He looked like he had practiced something to say, yet the words didn't come out like he wanted. "The cancer has spread, and rather rapidly. It's moved to your brain, Hirose-san. I don't know how to tell you this, but we can't remove the tumor without taking out your frontal lobe. Your cancer has become terminal. You have a month left to live." Tears spilled from the short males side, as the word 'terminal' registered in his brain.