#jojos bizarre adventure

I didn’t sell much first day of Cardiff if tomorrow goes similarly does anyone want to buy some prints ahahah

and a jolyne cuz it was a crime i didn’t have her last time!

My giomis for @CarpeDiemZine

under an umbrella meant for one

[josuke higashikata x reader]

author’s note: i rewatched diu in spring and had a few ideas drafted at that time but i didn’t actually write anything until this one, which i came up w last weekend lmao. enjoy <3

word count: 3,408

Josuke’s still half asleep as he saunters into the kitchen at 7AM on Friday, and he’s only half listening when his mom tells him to bring an umbrella today.

“It isn’t raining yet, but with how dark the clouds are, it definitely will be soon,” she remarks as she opens the refrigerator door and reaches in to grab her food. “I left the umbrella for you right by the front door so you don’t forget it.” Like I always do. But she keeps that last part to herself.

Josuke hums, taking one of the glasses sitting on the dryer rack from when he’d done the dishes last night and filling it with water from the tap. As he drinks, gulping audible and head tilted back, Tomoko glances over at him. The vague response is meant to be a confirmation that he heard her, but she doubts he actually processed it. He isn’t truly awake until at least 11:30AM. She follows his movements: sluggishly setting the glass in the sink; eyes sliding shut; swaying a little as he stands in the one spot. In such a state, he’d be hard pressed to repeat back what she said successfully had she asked him to, but at this point, he might have already fallen asleep again.

With a quiet sigh, Tomoko closes the short distance between them and rubs his back to bring him back to consciousness. Dozing off and potentially falling over on the cold kitchen floor is hardly an ideal wakeup call. (Though she won’t deny that maybe something so shocking to the system might be what he needs every now and then, with his tendency to stay up too late playing video games and paying for it in the morning.)

“Don’t forget.” She punctuates her parting words with a couple pats to his shoulder, and then she takes a seat at the dining table to eat.

“Yeah. Umbrella. Rain. Got it,” Josuke mutters and waves a hand dismissively.

The corner of Tomoko’s mouth lifts in a small grin, and she watches him amble back out of the kitchen, very much resembling a zombie. Ah. So he hadheard.

Unfortunately for Josuke, that doesn’t mean much. He’d taken too long to get ready, the fact it was still dark outside due to the clouds blanketing the sky making it even more difficult wake up. Upon finally getting his pompadour just right and throwing on his uniform, he’d glanced at the clock to learn he should’ve left almost ten minutes ago. And with how close he normally cuts it with getting to school, sliding into his seat in homeroom just as the bell goes off, it’s ten minutes he doesn’t have.

Shit. He grabs his books and dashes out of the house. Why hadn’t Okuyasu come by the house today? They always walked together. He thought he had more time than he did because it was his friend’s knock on the door every morning that signaled when he had to leave. Then he remembers: Okuyasu had a quiz to make up and he’d opted to do it in the morning rather than after school.  

Josuke remembers another thing too, but he remembers it too late: he left the umbrella by the front door. He groans and slaps his palm on his forehead. Not again. He can hear his mom now, brow raised with hands on her hips once he gets home later, soaked through and miserable—You can’t say I didn’t remind you! Cue the disappointed head shake. And be careful, don’t track water on the hardwood! He really is just a mess in the mornings, isn’t he?

Get it together, Josuke. The front gates of the school are in sight now, and he ends his mini pep talk to himself with two more slaps, this time to the cheek, to try to wake himself up a little more.

The hallways are mostly empty once he’s finally inside, and his classroom is right at the end, the door slid back. He spares a glance to the clock on the opposite wall, where the hour hand is at 8 and the minute hand is pointed at the notch just before 12. The third hand ticking away the seconds is incredibly close to completing its full revolution, and it does so in 3… 2… 1.

A shrill ringing fills the air that’s otherwise dead considering most students are now in class, and Josuke starts running, shoes clacking on the linoleum. He’ll be fine if he gets there before the bell stops!

He curls his hand around the edge of the door as if to stop himself from overshooting his target, and comes to stand in the frame, panting quietly. Yes, made it! The teacher stands close by, clearly on her way to shut the door, signaling the beginning of lecture and that anyone who were to come after was to be marked tardy. But Josuke wouldn’t be one of them today!

“Perfect timing, Higashikata,” the teacher remarks.

Josuke chuckles quietly, closing the door behind him. “Heh, yeah…” By now she is accustomed to his very last second arrivals, and he’s certain he’s closed the door for her more often than not this trimester. Maybe one day he’d actually be late, but he’s not keen to let that happen anytime soon.

While the teacher returns to her spot at the head of the classroom, he walks over to his desk, the second column from the far side and three rows back. He sets his books down before plopping into his seat, and as he does, he catches your gaze from where you’re sat to his right.

When your eyes meet, you smile brightly and the corners of your own crinkle slightly. He smiles back but it’s not nearly as energetic. Even after you’ve turned your attention back to the teacher, he lingers on you, your hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, white ribbon holding it in place; your knee high socks and pristine Mary-Jane’s with a small heel; your cheeks dusted in soft pink to complement the translucent sheen of gloss on your lips. He already feels frazzled in the mornings and is sure he looks the part too (the one exception being his hair, of course; he’d cut no corners with that) but the sentiment is magnified as he studies you.

You’re always so put together, so neat. You have good grades and everyone likes you, students and faculty alike. If someone needs help you’re happy to offer assistance, and it’s almost shocking how well you can remember everyone’s names. It makes you personable and inviting, and not to mention your smile: warm and amiable, you’d always have one to share with whoever looked your way. Josuke won’t lie that he’s a bit more awake now that you’ve graced him with one. And truly, considering all these things, is it really a such a surprise that his crush is as big as it is?

He’s inclined to think no. Though he’s also inclined to think he is far from the only person to feel this way about you. Hell, he knowshe’s not because Okuyasu had mentioned the other day how cute you’d looked when he passed you in the hallway and Josuke had asked what you were doing and Okuyasu shrugged and said Nothing, she was just talking with a friend. Then he went on to say well, you look cute every day but there was just something about that moment you looked cuter than normal and to anyone else this wouldn’t make any sense but Josuke, a boy with butterflies in his stomach that seem to rouse to wakefulness at the sight of you and at the sound of your voice, even when you aren’t doing anything special, understood perfectly.

Beneath your seat he spots an umbrella, folded up and covered with a slip: a pink one with strawberries dotted on it. Well, at least you’d prepared for the rain today, but that’s to be expected. He wonders what that’d be like, to not be forgetful and to be even half as composed as you are. He bets it’d be nice.

It’s your turn to catch him as you glance at him and his eyes slide from your umbrella up to your face. Briefly you look down at his desk where his books are still sitting the way he left them, and you mouth the words Page 217. That’s when Josuke notices your textbook is open, and he observes the students around you who also have theirs out. Quickly he moves to catch up, grabbing his copy and flipping through.

He does it just in time, too, as the teacher calls his name to ask him a question.

“What page are we on?”

Though he’s been taken by surprise in the past, you’ve spared him of that today and he answers correctly. Satisfied (though slightly suspicious of whether he really had been paying attention), the teacher returns to writing on the board. Once her back is turned, Josuke mouths Thanksand you flash that perfect smile at him again and his stomach feels a bit funny.

The rain begins to fall halfway through the day. It starts as a drizzle, silent and feeling more like a mist than anything, until it comes down a little harder, with enough force that the raindrops darken the cement. Students are quick to flee to the safety of the indoors during lunch, hiding beneath their umbrellas (or in the case of the less prepared, beneath their textbooks).

When classes resume, the rain is descending in a steady downpour, beating against the windows with muffled patters. It’s nice background noise for lazing around at home, but while at school, not so much. The dark sky makes Josuke sleepy (though he hadn’t been fully awake to begin with) and he rests his head on his propped up hand as he looks outside. He’s sitting right by the window, and he follows the path of a raindrop sliding down the window. It goes straight for a short while, then at a diagonal towards the right; it picks up a few other raindrops along its way, growing in size, and down it goes, until it reaches the windowsill…

Josuke’s eyelids begin to droop. Could this day go by anyslower?

The bell to signal the end of the school day is truly a blessed sound indeed. It seems the weather has decided to have some mercy for the students who had failed to bring an umbrella, for the rain ceases and the sky, while still cloudy, isn’t as dreary as it had been earlier. Because of this, Josuke is able to wait for Okuyasu and Koichi at the usual spot, right outside the front gates. All three of them have a different final period and Josuke is the first to arrive this time.

He watches the crowd of students leaving campus, large groups of them taking up most of the space on the sidewalks and the crosswalk. The air is filled with energetic chatter and the whoosh of passing cars. As the minutes wear on, the hustle and bustle gradually diminishes, and only a few students here and there trickle through the gates. However, thus far none of them have been Okuyasu or Koichi, and Josuke’s brows furrow. He peaks around the corner to look past the opened gates but they’re nowhere to be seen. What gives? Where the hell are they?

Normally they don’t take this long to show up. Did they get distracted or something? Josuke huffs and turns back around, looking down the sidewalk. The plan had been to get food at St. Gentleman’s, and while any other day he might try to wait it out or even return inside to search for them, he’s getting hungry and considering going ahead. They wouldn’t be annoyed, and they’d all meet up eventually, just now at the bakery and not outside the school building.

Not that it takes much convincing on his part, Josuke makes up his mind, and with a decisive nod, stuffs his hands into his pants pockets and begins walking. He wonders what to buy once he’s there, and envisioning the different choices makes the rumbling of his stomach only grow louder. But he doesn’t make it more than ten steps before he feels a solitary raindrop land on his head.

At first he thinks it’s his imagination, but then he feels another, and he glares up at the sky. Is it really— A few more hit his face, one narrowly missing his eye, and he groans. There was no more denying it now. It was beginning to rain again.

A light drizzle would’ve been the most ideal, and he wouldn’t have minded walking through it, but he’s not quite so lucky. The most he could hope for is that it doesn’t come down any harder than it is now; the torrents of earlier this afternoon would be difficult to trek in. Possible, but he’d look like a wet dog by the time he arrived at St. Gentleman’s (and halfway to shaking the excess water off his body like one too). He considers what he might do if it did rain that hard, if it would be worth the walk, and he sighs. He’d be soaked whether he chose to go to the bakery or reroute to his house. At least a trip to St. Gentleman’s got him some warm food at the end.

Josuke’s once perfectly done pompadour is being messed up by the rain, and he pushes some of the stray strands back from his forehead. Man, this sucks! Did Okuyasu or Koichi bring an umbrella? If they had, it would’ve been left in their lockers for the day since they ate lunch indoors, so Josuke wouldn’t have seen. Okuyasu he was a bit unsure of, but Koichi stayed prepared, and Josuke doesn’t put it past him to have brought one just in case.

Maybe he should turn around then? He could go back inside, find his friends because really, if he hadn’t seen them while standing by the front gates for fifteen minutes then where the hellwere they, and just take the walk to St. Gentleman’s with them, while, fingers crossed, sheltered beneath an umbrella.

As if on cue, Josuke no longer feels the rain falling, and he looks up to see he is now beneath an umbrella: it’s colored pink and has a strawberry pattern.

His eyes trace the length of the handle and find you at the end, smiling at him. Your arm is lifted slightly to be able to keep him covered as well as your much shorter self.

“You’ll catch a cold if you just stand there,” you remark.

Ah. It occurs to him he had stopped walking when it started raining. Deep in thought about how to proceed, he had neglected to actually move out of the way so that he might continue his thinking without getting wetter by the second. Just staying in one spot was even worse than just continuing with his walk! First not bringing an umbrella to begin with, and now this, he truly was screwing himself over at every turn.

But it would seem the world is taking just a little pity on him, for not only has his need for an umbrella been answered, it had been you that answered it. The weather is cold but he hardly notices due to his rapidly warming cheeks. He is suddenly acutely aware of how close the two of you are standing, and you have to, given your umbrella isn’t that big and he has a broad form. He detects the faint smell of your perfume: powdery and floral, a vibrant freshness that matches the bright expression on your face. You’re like a ball of sunshine competing with the cloudy afternoon, but he already knows who he’d declare the winner.

“Uh, yeah…” Josuke finally forces out awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. On the inside, he cringes. “Just… got distracted deciding what to do since I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

You tilt your head. “Where were you going? I could walk you there!”

Your offer catches him off guard, quick as it had been. Clearly it isn’t something you said just to be nice. If he wasn’t mistaken, your suggestion had an eager undertone to it, as if hoping he’d agree and grant you the opportunity to help someone. Once more he’s in awe of your willingness to lend a hand where needed, and maybe this was the intention of the powers that be all along—where Josuke was unprepared, you were, as always, put together, and it was his lucky day that you had set your sights on him.

His brief silence you interpret as hesitation to agree, so you continue: “And don’t feel bad about accepting! I’d hate for you to walk under the rain.”

You wear your heart on your sleeve and Josuke can’t help smiling. It’s a good look on you. “I was going to get food,” he states.

“Oh, me too! Where were you thinking?”

The longer this conversation goes, the more it becomes apparent this may turn into more than a simple walk. The prospect of eating a meal together and spending time with you outside of class makes Josuke’s stomach do a flip—there’s that queasy feeling again. His anticipation was such that it made him feel sick. Was that typical? Was this sensation written about in romance novels? He wouldn’t know since he’s never read stories like those. And yet, ironically, he finds himself to be right in the center of one.

The name St. Gentleman’s is on the tip of his tongue before it dies out and he reconsiders. If both of you went there, you would inevitably run into Okuyasu and Koichi, and as much as Josuke enjoys being around them, right now, he just wants to be with you. They’d be a distraction, and he has no qualms in admitting he wants you to himself because with the way you watch him right now, he wants to remain the center of your attention. You make it simple to forget the cold weather. Besides, the others wouldn’t mind his absence, especially not after he tells them his reason for not meeting them.

“Cafe Rengatei,” he says instead.

You nod once, resolute. “Let’s go there then!”

The optimistic part of him seems to spring to life—this is a date! But Josuke tries to push that down quickly, not wanting to make this out to be more than it is. Because it isn’t much, really. Just two classmates getting a bite to eat after school. That’s it. As friends.

“Here, you’ll need to hold the umbrella though since you’re taller.”

You hand him the umbrella and he takes it, and to ensure you’re also properly covered, you step even closer, shoulder pressed against his. You’re touching him and you’re so warm and smell like flowers and even if on the outside he appears perfectly fine, on the inside he’s freaking out and he might not call it a date but it sure as hell is playing out like one.

He’s still in shock at the events that are transpiring, and doesn’t immediately fall into step with you. You blink and glance up at him, and the gloomy weather and umbrella cast a shadow over his face that, thankfully, hides his blush. It deepens when you take hold of his arm, the one between you holding the umbrella, as though to pull him along.

“Come on, let’s go before it starts raining harder!”

Josuke didn’t think he could like the rain as much as he does now. Talking with you becomes increasingly easier with every step, and it feels like his heart stops when you grin softly. The walk is unhurried, even for the rain falling all around you, and it’s hard to say who is dictating the pace, who has decided to prolong this time spent so close together.

The depths of your eyes are crystal clear at this distance and he knows one thing for sure: if it had, in fact, been you at the start setting this slow pace, it’s him who would keep it that way. He’ll keep his steps slow to extend this moment with you, all the while wishing it would last forever.