forgiveness

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a/n: just a heads up: reader cannot see stands but they are aware of them. i wrote this in what i feel like a non-stand user would experience. more notes at the end of the story! reader has gender neutral pronouns btw. one more thing: wattpad was shitting all over saving my drafts so if there are any glaring errors please let me know (aside from me bein bad at writing ha)

Hours spent studying psychology textbooks and monitoring the life and habits of Rohan Kishibe was what comprised most of your college life. Rohan came as a 'bonus', he would call himself, but in reality, he was your final exam grade. The manga artist prized himself on his flawless art and storytelling abilities— surely you could appreciate this— if you knew who he was. Rohan Kishibe was nothing more than another stranger to you in Morioh, sans the acquaintances you shared. You heard enough horror stories about him. A bullheaded, pompous asshole who could hardly keep the mild-mannered Koichi Hirose around.

How you got into this situation, of mutual benefits, you couldn't quite comprehend. Rohan would leech off of your life for manga content, and you would sit in the corner of his office and stare blankly at him with tired eyes, taking down notes of his telling actions and little discussions he shared with you.

Rohan clearly had issues with narcissism. He was confident in himself and his abilities, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing— except that he took it to ridiculous lengths, and destroyed any relationships he cultivated over the years. Sure, he could say in Morioh that he had Koichi and you; but in the big city, Rohan Kishibe was friendless and uninspired. In truth, you didn't need to be here. You didn't need to choose him as your final subject. You could've chosen Josuke, and analyzed his interesting misborn child relationship with his aging father. Okuyasu, even, with his slight brother complex and his father's... inhuman form. You had a multitude of choices presented before you, and you went with the egotistical mangaka that held himself on a pedestal higher than anyone on earth. Why?

The aura he carried, the way he presented himself— it was something you envied. His confidence, although overabundant, was something you lacked. The certainty he had in his actions and his work was something you desired for yourself. If you studied him with conviction, surely you'd be able to become this dogmatic. Rohan Kishibe was a subject at face value, and an inspiration in your mind.

"[name], I need some more ink. Because of my feeling benevolent today, I'll let you fetch it from the shelf." It was seven pm and the setting sun illuminated the hard at work manga artist with a beautiful array of orange and yellow. Undoubtedly this was the peak of his elegance each day, early evening.

"Gee, thank you for this opportunity." You were quick to snap back, but you'd bring him more ink anyways. Hindering the work of the renown Rohan was a heinous crime in the world of artistry.

"I'm sure you'll look back on this with fervor. Not everyone gets the chance to assist me in my work, after all."

"I suppose you ought to feel blessed that you get to work with me too. Not everyone gets the chance to assist me in my work, after all." You should've kept your tongue in your cheek, but the appeal of teasing Rohan Kishibe was too great. He desired someone who could be on his wavelength, so you'd make an effort to do so. Unless what he truly wanted was a person who'd keep their mouth shut. You doubted that.

Rohan sighed, of what you could assume was annoyance. Your response hadn't wiped the pompous smirk off his face, though. "You think you're such an enigma, [name]."

"'Scuse me?" You perched yourself in your chair in the corner again, knees tucked against your chest and notebook shut. You'd taken enough notes today; now it was merely an excuse to hang around Rohan for a while longer.

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