#morioh

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Fandom: Jojolion

Summary:Yasuho’s life is tearing at the seams. The volatile Rokakaka trade is catching up to them and when Josuke unravels, Yasuho is pushed to her limit. She’s left more vulnerable than ever as she struggles to protect two men who barely know her.

This a story in which the protected must become the protector.

Chapter 9

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The journey to the room was uneventful, but when Josuke’s fingers met the door handle, he was ready for anything.

“Soft and Wet,” he whispered, pushing the office door open, fists up for a brawl.

“Oh, hey Josuke!” The door swung open to Yasuho, swinging in circles upon a small stool.

Definitely not the sight he imagined.

Without a word, he pushed through the entrance, gingerly grasping a hand around her wrist to hoist her up to her feet. One by one, Josuke gently twisted and turned her arms, checking for damage.

She didn’t appear hurt.

No scratches, nor bruised flesh..

He twirled her slowly, as if for a waltz, ignoring her puzzled expression in order to inspect her from behind. Calloused fingers ran along her spine to her lower back before she squeaked, turning around to swat him away.

“Josuke, what are yo-”

“Yasuho!” Satisfied, Josuke finally wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her small frame to his chest, as if she’d be blown away by a slight draft. “What’s going on? When you sent me that text I was so worried something had happened to you..”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” She giggled, pulling away to look at him directly. Her smile was carefree as she licked her lips. “I just wanted to show you something you might be interested in.”

Her eyes looked a little red.

Had she been crying?

He’d make a point to ask her about it later. But for now..

“I saw. Where is he? I mean… me.” Josuke furrowed his brow, not sure if he phrased it correctly.

Just how should he refer to Yoshikage Kira..

Was he him?

Should Kira be considered a father who gave birth to him?

No, that wasn’t right.

Kira was him, partially.

So Josuke tried again, “Where am I?”

“You’re right here, silly.” Tapping the tip of his nose; Rosette hair tickled his cheek as Yasuho pushed her body into him.

Josuke gave little resistance, taking a step back as her hand braced her weight against his broad chest, allowing himself to be pushed back against the door, which closed shut behind him.

“You’re here with me.” Yasuho nuzzled her face in to the crook of his neck, fingers grazing along the white fibers of his sailor shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. She hummed in contentment, as she explored the dark stripes of his collar, to sling her arms over his broad shoulders, the softness of her chest pushing into his unrelenting build.

Josuke was taken aback.

They’d been affectionate before, but Yasuho had never been this forward with him about it. She wasn’t exactly a wallflower, but she tended to be sheepish about initiating contact. It sometimes made him wonder if it had something to do with not wanting to be poked again like the first time they hugged. He’d always needed to remind himself that poking her was a bad thing, and made her uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, Josuke returned the hug, happy for the contact. Her warmth felt like the missing piece to his broken existence. Since he awoke at the wall eyes, his life had been nothing but piecing together some semblance of who he used to be..or who he should be..

Every answer gave birth to several more questions.

And everyone who held an answer, had something else to hide.

Yasuho was the only constant in his life.

As grateful as he was to Norisuke-san, he knew that he’d never fully be able to trust the man. The same went for the majority of the Higashikata family. Despite being adopted and sheltered under their name, Josuke knew he’d never truly be one of them. And while he had his own goals, their conflict of interests were growing more apparent by the day. Masked by charades of hospitality, their end game goals were the same:

Claim the Rokakaka.

And for that, he’d never let his guard down around them.He’d do whatever it took to save Holly-san because in his heart, he knew he was born to save her. If he couldn’t do that, then his entire existence was in vain.

Yasuho understood that. That’s why she was the only person he could trust without reservation. When complexity of the world consumed him, Yasuho made herself a buffer until he could understand what was going on. From the beginning she’d led him by the hand, asking for nothing in return. Helping him find his identities, picking up clues on how to save his mother, coming around just for the sake of seeing him. It was odd, but it was nice.

He liked that.

He liked her..and it felt right.

He couldn’t speak much from his experience with human relations but something about her made the achy-ness of not knowing what he didn’t know, just a little lighter. As if the weight of Kira and Josefumi’s world wasn’t as unbearable.

She knew him.

Not Kira, not Josefumi.

Just…Josuke Higashikata.

And she treated him like he was enough, even without the rokakaka. With her, he had value. He had a cause outside of that forbidden fruit. Yasuho was the only one he’d never let go of…and she clung to him too, even when that meant staring into the face of death. Unfortunately, the target on his back was contagious and led her into danger, more times than he ever liked.

So in his heart, he swore to always protect her.

Always.

“Ya-Yasuho…” Breathless, Josuke could feel his heart take off again, for different reasons, when delicate fingers slid beneath the hem of his shirt causing his stomach to recoil as they feathered along the groves of his abdomen. He was relying on the door more and more to hold up his weight as Yasuho peppered kisses along his collarbone.

The hospital wasn’t the place for this sort of thing, but then her fingers dipped against his pelvis causing a low groan to drown out any protest ready to fall from his lips.

oh, no.

“Aaah-ah! Yasuhoo, we need to-”

He felt something happening again…near his groin.

It was starting to twitch.

He didn’t want to scare her away again..

“Josuke?” Her voice, innocently questioned.

“Mmmm, mmmn…not h-here..” He opened his eyes, flourescent light suddenly making him feel exposed. It took all of his self control to grip Yasuho’s shoulders and pry her back, but her hands gripped him with a surprising force. “F-fuck. Yasuho what is with you??!”

Josuke was becoming more unsettled by the moment.

He needed to get out of there asap.

He needed to gether out of there.

Josuke pushed past Yasuho, and began rummaging the contents of the desk behind her. Notepads full of chicken scratch, pens, and wastes bags, disinterested him. He Turned to Yasuho. “Where’s the body?”

“What body?” Yasuho rocked on the heels of her feet, swaying her arms playfully.

“What body??!! You sent me a picture of Kira!”

“That was just a picture. I was dropping off lunch for my dad, and got a little curious.” She sauntered over to reach an arm past him and clicked the power button of the computer. She observed the machine’s last breath before continuing, “..just thought you’d appreciate the pic. It’s not exactly public record but the government likes to take pictures of bodies before they send them off for cremation. Consider it a keepsake.”

Josuke fixed her with a scowl. He looked from the blank computer screen to the hand she placed on his shoulder. “Where is he?”

“Didn’t you hear me, it’s just a pict-”

She couldn’t finished her sentence before he shoved Joshuu’s phone in her face. “You see this picture?” Josuke’s finger trailed the screen until it reached the corner tapping it for good measure. He then grabbed her hand, inspecting the yellow and black-striped nail design that matched the hand gripping the railing next to Kira Yoshikage’s body.

“Stop messing with me.” his tone was dangerous. “..Whoever you are.”

She stared blankly a few moments before speaking carefully.

“Josuke, please… don’t joke.. you’re not forgetting me, are you?” Only then, did Yasuho’s expression falter. Her lips quivered, “How could you?”

The disappointment in her voice, nearly broke him.

Almost.

Yasuho’s eyes were pleading as she loosened his grip on her wrist, and guided his palm to her cheek. She rubbed her warmth against him, parting her lips before she closed the distance between them. “Let me help you remember..”

Her breath was warm on his lips before he cupped her face, sliding his thumb under her chin for good measure and effectively stopping her advance. Her squishy face would have been comical under other circumstances, but he levied her with blunt expression.

“Yasuho would never lie to me,” He squeezed harder with each syllable. “Where. Is. She?”