*OLD* Love Like You (Rohan Kishibe and Daughter Reader)

See Emily Play on Arnold Lane (Part 1)

A/n: This will most likely be the only chapter where the parts will not be released in bulk, and that's because I'm struggling with the second part. It should be out before September ends though! But just in case it isn't, I didn't want to keep you guys waiting, so I decided to upload this chapter before the second part. Also, I have modified Rohan and Josuke's conversation in SOYCD Part 3, and that should be out tomorrow! You guys don't have to read it because the changes weren't too drastic, but I thought I'd let you know; to me, it was doing more telling than showing, so I decided to change it. Anywho, comments/critiques is what keeps me writing, so tell me what's strong and what can be improved!

Reimi Sugimoto and her labrador-retriever Arnold sat in the comforts of their little apartment with a cloak of breathing twilight slumping over their bodies. A single flame from a carnation-scented candle was the only thing to water down the darkness, tripping over itself as a drunken man would and sending the shadows of furniture creeping up the walls like boas in jungle trees. Sundry sounds from neighboring apartments, such as a husband quarreling with his wife below and a mother crooning lullabies to her newborn above, brought their otherwise still apartment back from the dead.

It was sadly ironic, the loneliness Reimi felt. Thousands of people passed by her in the tumulting city everyday and she was surrounded by hundreds more in her abode, yet she was but a mere ghost to everyone: her existence forgotten, forced to live in an isolated purgatory. It didn't help that the sky was empty of stars every night either. To cope, Reimi would take Arnold to dog parks, reach out to the people she had babysat in the past, and would even try to get in contact with the spirit realm via summoning circles or mysterious phone numbers she found on quite questionable websites; and while these activities numbed the pain in the moment, there was something near and dear to her heart that acted as an abiding medicine for her loneliness.

Rohan and Reimi's Random Rendezvous is what the childhood friends called their personal museum. The scrapbook, which was the same shade of yellow as an ox's horn, wheezed out a cloud of murky dust every time it's pages were turned, and the seams on the spine groaned from holding years of memorabilia together. No sorrow could live in Reimi when she read the title crafted from magazine letters or gazed upon the library of decades-old photographs behind plastic walls. Her face was as bright as the sun and as merry as springtime, and the twilight and loneliness could never extinguish this joy as long as she held the scrapbook in her hands.

But then, she flipped to the last photograph in the book.

Like a child who knew not of personal space, the twilight weighed its hands―its opaque, cryptic, and cracked hands that pulsated from the flesh of nightmares―on Reimi's shoulders, making her back curl into a slouch. She could feel the twilight's smoggy breath trickle down her neck as she and it ogled at the photograph in her lap:

It was taken at night, though the moon was locked away in a tower of gray clouds. On the left was a woman skinny in figure yet plump in riches, and on the right was a man starving in both physique and affection, his face as pale as an ill pearl and as deprived of pride as a narwhal without a horn. Behind them was the sea, where docile waves grazed on a pasture of seaweed like sheep, though it was not a pleasing sea where dolphins waltz together in the limelight of the moon and lost stars nestle in cribs of seafoam. It was a sea where sirens cast their alluring voices into the blackened, unknown waters to fish for lustful sailors, and fang-like rocks drool at the thought of a passerby walking off of the cliff that bordered the photo.

"(M/n)...oh Arnold, do you ever wonder where she went all those years ago? Whatever became of her?"

Arnold licked her dangling fingers to let her know that he wondered everyday. Reimi gently patted her companion's head with a warm smile as she said, "And I know what Jotaro, Mrs. Kujo, and Joseph told me, but I still can't help but wonder..."