“…I won’t be deceived by you again,” Shizuka spits out, balling her hands into fists.



“You have a birthmark on the left side of your mid-back, like a little red splotch of ink,” Sanjo replies, “Gangak showed me a picture, not that I asked him.” She swallows, unnerved at hearing an intimate truth about her body.

“Look at me,” the old man spits back. “Why would I lie now? I didn’t get to finish my story earlier. The plan was to kill your big ‘brother’ there and leave you alive. Then I could keep you alive long enough to tell you exactly who your mother is, before sending you back to her, piece by piece. You still want to hear the rest, do you?”

“You sick son of a bitch, I’ll…” begins Josuke, before Shizuka waves him into silence. Sanjo sneers, as begins.

“Gangak and I were drug smugglers. That was our business. We took care of holding onto drugs smuggled into this side of Japan, and organized their transport across the Pacific. But before that, we were members of one of the most powerful crime gangs in the United States, based in L.A… Los Angeles, California…”

“Why the move?” Josuke asks, crossing his arms.

“Because the boss was a madman and a psychopath, and we were sick of working for him. We all came from the same community of Korean immigrants, but that man… in all my time on Earth, I have never… seen anything like… anyway, we left. Started our own enterprise, right here in Morioh. Right under your granddad’s nose, Higashikata.”

Josuke keeps his face set, saying nothing.

“By spring of 1999, we were middlemen for half of the northern Pacific drug routes. And we decided to hold a party for our clients, in one of our secret warehouses. Chinese triads, Russian mafia dons, I’m talking the kings and queens of the international underworld, all coming on over to our side of the world to celebrate our newfound prosperity. And Gangak just had to bring that bitch with him, clinging to him like a leech.”

Sanjo shakes his head, and Josuke realizes that he is crying. Salty tears run down his wrinkled cheeks, though his voice remains as steady and hateful as ever.

“I went outside, to get some air or smoke or take a piss or something. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I went back to the warehouse, and before I’m a minute away, I realize something is wrong. The music is still playing. The disco lights are still shining out of the windows. But there are no voices. No human sound. And when I opened the door…” and then the old man chokes back a sob. When he speaks up again, the sob is still in his voice. “When I opened the door, they were all dead.”

Something in Josuke’s memory stirs, something which becomes clearer as Sanjo keeps talking. “Every single one of them. All our crew, and our clients. No wounds on their bodies, but blood everywhere, spilling out of their eyes and ears, their mouth, every hole on their bodies. I found… Gangak right in the center, dead as can be. It was like a nightmare.”

A bizarre headline, Josuke remembers, which, though grisly and horrible, ultimately barely registered in a summer filled with bizarre incidents. It was Jotaro who decided that the mysterious deaths of over 50 people in a warehouse was best left to the police. In the end, the deaths were attributed to an unusually powerful case of ammonia poisoning, caused by old chemicals in the very walls of the place.

“And then I saw her. Stepping out of the shadows. That woman. Gangak’s girl. Only she wasn’t. She had changed completely, as if she’d become a different person. But that was wrong. The girl Gangak knew, that was the lie. She looked up, and she saw me, and with one look, I knew exactly who she was. I didn’t understand how she did it then. I didn’t have my Stand then. But I knew! She was an assassin. A Stand user from Los Angeles, sent by the boss to kill us all!”

The old man’s tears are flowing freely now, and his voice quakes with pain and rage. He strains against his bonds, snapping at Shizuka like a crazed dog. “So I cut a piece out of her! Right out of her face! I took my knife, and I stuck it right below her right eye! Carved a cut like a fish hook on her pretty face, so now, even if I didn’t kill her, she won’t fool anyone else with a pretty look again! And you… you have her eyes.

“Do you understand? Do you hear what I’m saying to you? Your father is DEAD! Your mommy KILLED him! She murdered him, murdered my friend! And she got away with it, slinking back to L.A.! That’s who squeezed you into the world! That’s who you’re looking for! What do you think of that? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK OF THAT-?!”

Josuke boots him once in the face and Sanjo is knocked out. A sudden gust of wind blows then. It blows against the hull of the old tanker, hard as a drum, vibrating the insides and making a sound like a prehistoric beast.

“Shizuka…” Josuke says, turning to face his sister. She is quiet, still looking down at Sanjo’s unconscious form. The wind blows her hair over her face, obscuring her features. And whatever the policeman was about to say, he has forgotten it. The wind dies, and her hair falls back over her face.

“Shizuka, are you…?” he says, taking ginger steps towards his sister. “Are you OK?”

She doesn’t answer. Then she looks up at him, a bright, cheerful smile across her face. “Isn’t this great!” she declares. Again, it isn’t a question.

Josuke is taken aback, jolting in place at the sight of Shizuka’s smile, eyes transfixed on her overwhelming cheer as she advances past him.

“He finally finished his story, and now we have a new lead! Los Angeles! I just have to go there and look for my mom there! Oh my gosh, I’ve never been to L.A. before! I wonder if I’ll meet anybody famous! Ooh, I wanna go swimming, and see the Hollywood sign and walk down the Miracle Mile! If I find my mom there, then we could do all that stuff together, too!”

“Shizuka!” Josuke cries, and she stops at last.

“What is it, Josuke?” she asks, confused, and surprised at the volume of his voice.

The policeman blinks, staring at Shizuka and struggling to find words. “Are… are you sure you’re OK?”

She holds his gaze, then smiles again. Gentler this time, endearing. “Of course I’m OK, big bro. I’ve never been better. I’m going to find my mom.”

She says so as if it’s obvious, as if nothing could possibly be wrong. Josuke is in a kind of daze, and remains in it even when his sister skips over to hug him, absently returning the embrace. He looks up at the sky, and decides it must be somewhere around 3pm by now. The sun makes its slow tilt towards the horizon, and he looks east, across the Pacific Ocean. On this side of the bay, the sea seems to take a dirty green color. Staring out across the sea, Josuke frowns and chews his bottom lip.

SANJO

STAND: SMOKE ON THE WATER

RETIRED