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“Higashikata Josuke!”
Josuke flinches from his place in the hospital bed.
Okuyasu and Koichi have both gone pale.
Only Jotaro seems unruffled, but that’s par the course for him. Almost nothing seems to get beneath his skin.
His mother stands in the doorway, arms akimbo, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.
Josuke swallows thickly.
He is so, so dead.
“You,” she points at him accusingly, “have some explaining to do, young man!”
“Mom, I…” His words fall short. How exactly is he supposed to explain any of this to her? He can’t tell her about Kira.
She’d flip her shit.
Tomoko marches forward till she’s at the side of his bed, hands on her hips. “What was I supposed to think?” she demands.
Josuke’s not sure if she wants to slap him or hug him.
Possibly both.
Koichi and Okuyasu both haven’t said anything, but it’s not like that makes it any better.
If there’s anything worse than being yelled at by your mom, it’s being yelled at by your mom in front of your two best friends.
And your nephew, who’s technically old enough to be your uncle, which is a whole can of worms Josuke is still struggling to wrap his head around.
They’re probably hoping she forgets about their existence entirely and spares them a scolding. Except for maybe Jotaro.
Josuke doesn’t think he’s seen the man afraid once- even in the midst of everything going down with Kira.
It’s actually pretty annoying, but he seems unshakable.
Then again, his mom can be pretty scary when she wants to be.
“Getting a call, telling me you were in the hospital?” she continues and Josuke is yanked back out of his thoughts. “They wouldn’t even tell me how bad it was!”
There’s a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, a tightness in his chest. His mouth feels dry and he almost wishes the hospital bed would swallow him whole.
I really scared her this time.
There’s no excuse. He knows losing him is the one thing that scares his mother more than anything else.
Especially now.
After his grandfather died… he’s the only family she has left. If she lost him, he doesn’t know what she would do. He doesn’t think she knows either.
He doesn’t want to put her in a position where she has to find out.
“It wasn’t his fault exactly, Miss Higashikata!” Okuyasu leaps to his defense, much to Josuke’s surprise. He falters when Tomoko’s gaze lands on him, apparently realizing he’s on the verge of saying too much. “Uh, I mean… That is…” He doesn’t seem to have much else planned out because he stutters to a halt, a pink blush staining his cheeks.
Tomoko looks from face to face, her own face bloodless, lips pursed. Finally, she speaks, although when she does, her eyes are locked on Jotaro. “I think you all,” her voice is dangerously low, “better explain to me what happened. Because my son,” she waves her arm at Josuke, who flinches, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with this entire exchange, “almost died and I think I deserve an explanation.”
Koichi and Okuyasu exchange a nervous glance. Okuyasu shifts from foot to foot. Neither one of them seems to know what to say.
Jotaro opens his mouth, but even he seems at a loss for words.
It occurs to Josuke now that none of them have ever really discussed what they’re going to be telling their families.
Although it’s not like any of his friends had to worry about that.
“Mom,” Josuke cuts in before Jotaro can say anything. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Tomoko looks like she very much wants to tell him that that isn’t the point, but then her face crumbles and she buries it in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking, but it’s not until the first muffled sob reaches his ears that he realizes she’s crying.
The atmosphere in the room shifts.
Jotaro straightens, takes half a step forward and seems to catch himself, but Koichi is the one to first reach out.
“Miss Higashikata,” he starts quietly.
Tomoko’s shoulders stiffen.
“All of you,” she says, without once looking up, “please out. I need to be alone with my son. Please.”
Okuyasu and Koichi exchange another look before Koichi nods meekly. “Yes, Ma’am.” They file out the door.
Only Jotaro pauses before exiting. He turns to Tomoko. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you trusted me to look out for him. I never wanted to let you down.”
It’s probably the most emotionally raw Josuke has ever seen him, but Tomoko doesn’t say anything. She stands tight-lipped, arms wrapped around herself.
Jotaro sighs, but he nods his head once in acknowledgement, before leaving the room.
Josuke watches him go and swallows thickly. “Mom,” he says, “I think you should sit down. There are some things I need to tell you.”
Tomoko looks at him wordlessly and Josuke squirms under her scrutiny, but she finally drags the chair closer to his bed and takes a seat.
It’s something he appreciates about his mother. She’s a firebrand when she’s angry, but when he has something serious to tell her, she shuts up and listens and listens well.
He reaches out and she takes his hand. The contact comforts and grounds him. He takes a deep breath- if he loses his nerve now, he knows he won’t be able to force himself to come clean in the future. So he just talks. “Remember that one time the microwave broke?” She’d slammed it so hard in a fit of temper, the door hadn’t been able to close. He sees the recognition in her eyes immediately. “And then it just… started working again?”
She nods once, but he can see that she’s wondering where he’s going with this.
“Well, I fixed it.”
They didn’t have the money for a new microwave oven at the time, even with both his mother and grandfather working. So he’d used Crazy Diamond to fix the damage himself.
She tilts her head, still listening. Her brows are drawn low over her eyes.
“I have,” this is the hard part. He has to swallow again in order to get the words out, “a special ability.”
Her expression is tight, her entire body posture rigid, but at least she doesn’t give a voice to her skepticism.
Josuke doesn’t think he would be able to continue if she did.
Out of habit, he calls Crazy Diamond to his side, even though he knows she can’t see him. His Stand hovers at his side by the hospital bed.
Tomoko purses her lips. “Explain.”
“I can fix things,” he says hastily. “And by that, I mean… well, it’s kind of hard to explain.” He’s not sure what else to do. So he has Crazy Diamond smash the bedside table.
Jotaro can kill him for this later, but he can’t go on lying to his mom.
Especially not after this.
Tomoko’s eyes go comically wide. She grips Josuke’s hand harder. “What the hell?” she hisses. “Josuke, what did you do?”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Josuke smiles reassuringly. If he’s being honest, he’s actually looking forward to showing off in front of his mom. Sure, the situation isn’t ideal, but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. “See?” With a touch, Crazy Diamond restores the table and vase to their original condition.
Tomoko stares at them, mouth agape. “Josuke…” she finally whispers. Her hand feels clammy in his, “what on earth is this?”
Josuke’s smile droops.
He’d hoped his mom would be impressed. Surprised, yes, but mostly impressed.
“It’s okay, Mom!” he hurries to reassure her and her eyes snap to his face and, wow, okay, she does not look happy. He rubs the back of his neck. “Remember that imaginary friend I had back when I was little?”
She nods again, lips pressed into a thin line.
“Well, he was real.”
“What does this have to do with you being hurt?” Right. Back to that again.
“I’m… maybe not the only one.” He knots one hand in the hospital blanket and tries to steady his breathing. He’s starting to feel lightheaded and his chest is too tight.
Tomoko grips his hand a little tighter. She clasps her other hand over his and leans forward. “Breathe with me, Josuke,” she says firmly. “Deep breaths. In and out. I know you can do it. Focus on me.”
Her voice is a grounding force that pulls him back to earth.
He breathes deep, in and then out.
“Do you want to finish?” she asks gently when his breathing has evened out. “Did one of these… people with special abilities hurt you?”
He nods, then adds, “I can’t fix myself.” It’s the biggest inconvenience that Crazy Diamond has to offer: no matter what happens, he can’t heal himself.
Tomoko sighs and leans back in her chair. “I should have known there would be a catch.”
Josuke blinks. “Wow, you’re actually taking this better than I expected!”
She opens her eyes and glares at him. “I’m not taking this well at all, you little asshole. You’re grounded once you’re out!”
He gapes at her. “What? Are you serious? I literally just saved the day!”
“Dead serious.” She crosses her arms, refusing to budge. It’s that look that lets Josuke know this is a lost cause. “No video games until further notice.
Josuke shakes his head. “Unbelievable,” he mutters.
“Maybe for a few days,” Tomoko amends, softening. She stands and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
He smiles back at her. “Yeah, me too, Mom.”