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-

Early the next morning, you climbed out of bed and headed directly to the mirror in the bathroom. If all things had gone how they had in the past, then your bruising should be gone.

However, it wasn't. It subsided, sure. It was no longer on your face or neck, and you could most certainly hide what was left. It wasn't as severe as it once was, but it was still there.

Your legs didn't ache as you moved, and your back didn't crack as you reclaimed your seat on the bed.

Jotaro stirred from next to you. He got up, and rubbed his eyes, checking you up and down.

"You said they'd be gone."

"They're not," you sigh. "This has to remain our little secret, got it? No one can find out."

"Why not? You're supposed to be completely healed-"

"We're heading to Cairo. If I can't fight, then I might as well be dead. This has to be kept secret. No one can know, not even Muhammad. Are we clear on that?"

He sits in silence, contemplating. He clenches his fist and sighs.

"Fine, on one condition."

"And that is?"

"Don't throw yourself into danger. Only fight when the fight comes to you."

"And, boy, will it," you chuckle. "Don't worry a hair on that handsome head of yours, everything will be okay."

You wrapped the bandages around your arms, getting fully dressed for the first time since the bruising occurred. You felt ready, anxiously itching for a fight.

It was bad, you were almost an addict. You needed something to spice up the boring week you'd had, not to mention something to take your frustration out on.

You packed your bag and left your room in Luxor, locking the door behind you.

You were heading home.

-

Only a train ride later, you stepped out onto a platform in Cairo that you knew so well. It was most definitely the busiest in the city, but you already felt at ease knowing that you knew nearly every nook and cranny the city had.

You were so happy you could've kissed the ground before you, but you'd probably catch some undiscovered disease.

Everything was looking up. You were back home, you'd see Noriaki soon, and everything was almost over. You just had to beat a century old bag of bones and you'd be home free. Maybe the Speedwagon Foundation would even give you a vacation.

You breathed in the air, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Cairo is a vast city," Muhammad begins.

"It's like the Paris or Tokyo of Africa," Mr. Joestar butts in.

"Precisely," Muhammad continues. "Which is why we must search the city systematically. It's best we work our way to the center. I know it well, but lucky for us, (Y/N) practically knows the city like the back of their hand."

𝐛𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐲 // 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬Место, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя