''Johnny, it's time to wake up!'' Said Gyro, rusing the blankets from his friend's bed. ''Are you going to sleep all day? We need to buy more supplies!''
''Leave me alone, Gyro! The fourth stage will only start tomorrow!'' Johnny struggled. He never wanted his legs to work again as he did at that moment because that way he could kick that annoying Italian with all his gallows.
But now any chance of being able to sleep again has been ruined, as Gyro woke him up in full shouting. He stood on the bed, his eyes heavy and pain of the incipient head, that neither a cold bath nor the vivacity of Gyro during breakfast could dissipate. But he saw that he was wrong when the mild aroma of coffee alleviated the pain. Unfortunately, unwinded his mind enough to make him start thinking again about sleeping for another two or three hours.
During the journey, Johnny noticed that his friend had a voracious appetite. Now he had witnessed Gyro's will to eat some bread, pancakes, meat, eggs, and countless cups of coffee, though he constantly complained about the quality of American food. Johnny was already satisfied with two scrambled eggs and bacon.
''Where do you think we should go first?'' Gyro asked, reading the disorganized list he wrote on a dirty paper. ''We need canned food, grease, new stirrups, and a few more things.''
''Don't forget to buy a comb.'' Johnny said. ''You lost yours at the finish line, and I won't lend you mine.''
''Alright, alright...'' He grumbles. ''Listen, Johnny, I think we'd better go see (Y/N) first. She always leaves before the runners, so I think she's planning to travel today.''
''See (Y/N)? Why? We still have some medicine.''
''I'm not talking about the meds, Johnny, I want to check something.''
Sitering slowly, Johnny felt the warmth of coffee flow down his chest. He held the cup under his chin, inhaling the pleasant and bitter smell. He took a deep breath and supported his neck in the chair, shuddering slightly when he remembered the massage that (Y/N) gave him. He couldn't remember the last time a woman massaged him, and even it wasn't the same. He turned away his mind by drinking more coffee. It wasn't the same, of course, it wasn't. She was just treating an inflammation. The warmth of the arnica on his shoulders, the redness that had left, the sore grips her strained hands made. It wasn't the same, and he was ashamed that he considered it anything more than medical care.
"Listen, Johnny.'' Gyro pulled him out of his thoughts. ''When I got into her messy wagon, I saw a lot of weird papers.''
''Weird papers? What do you mean?''
''A lot of notes in Latin. I couldn't read what it was, but she hid them under the counter. Don't you think that's weird?''
''And what are you going to do?''
''Let's question her about it.'' He chewed a crispy piece of bacon, making exemplified gestures. ''Hey, (Y/N), what's your deal? What are these notes in Latin? You'd better tell us the truth... Get it?''
''Is that how we're going to interrogate her? If we scare or piss her off, she won't cooperate.''
''What do you mean? It's perfect. If we're nice, she's just going to keep hiding more secrets from us.''
''You didn't say she couldn't hide her things.''
''She's the one who asked us to tell her everything we know about the corpse, so that's more than fair.''
''Fine... you have a point.'' Johnny put the cup of coffee on the table. ''But we can't interrogate her like that. (Y/N) is like a skittish cat, you can't know if she will bite or run away. We can't forget that she's also a stand user, we don't know how strong she can be.''
''Don't you find it curious how weird she acted when she read what was written on your arm and just walked away? If she's not doing anything wrong, then she won't have to bite or run away.''
''Well, just don't forget that you don't get along very well with cats. ''
When they finished breakfast, they went to the stables. Valkyrie's wound seemed to have healed very well, both thanks to the good suture and the healing properties of the Zombie Horse. They chose to leave the horses on the stables and walk around the city looking for supplies and always attentive if they saw a grumpy mule out there.
Although buying more supplies was an easy task, searching (Y/N) wasn't. They crossed the city, visited the points where the trade was more active, and no sign of her. They were tired of looking, but Gyro seemed particularly intrigued by whatever that woman was hiding.
As a last resort, they searched for information.
''Hey, Johnny, do you think that old man knows something?''
''Maybe. He's one of the runners, Norisuke Higashikata, and he's pretty old. I bet she offered him some kind of service.''
"Great." Gyro waved, not minding how rude he was. ''Hey, old man! Did you happen to see a healer in a wagon around here?''
The old man looked at them, confused. He was just skin, bone, and eyes. Everything he thought seemed to reflect in his brown, wrinkled, and kind orbits. Now, these eyes reflected a confused stare. It took him a few long seconds to answer them.
''The lady with the mule?''
''Yes, score!'' Gyro confirmed it. ''Do you know where she is?''
''Oh, she can't be too far away. She sold me some herbs to help with my cough, you know? The weather is getting wet as we travel to the east, so my cough always gets worse. She was very kind, but I don't think that someone like her should be here.''
''Okay, we get it!'' The Italian interrupted. ''Whatever, do you know where she went?''
''She said she would buy a gramophone, I think. I don't know where she is.''
''Gramophone...'' Johnny muttered. ''There's only one store in this city that sells gramophones, Charm Bleu, or something. It's not far from here.''
''Great, let's get this over with.''
A clean wooden counter ran the length of the shop on both sides, with shelves twice the height of a man extending from the floor to the ceiling behind the counter. Some shelves were closed with glass doors with folding, protecting the most expensive products. Golden cupids spread libidinously above the cabinets, touching trumpets, waving their diadelphous robes, and generally appearing to have drunk some of the most alcohol from the store. Chic bottles of absinthe, sparkling wine, and luxury items such as gramophones and gold-plated rosé cups were some of the items the store offered.
Gyro was intrigued, touching every golden thing that caught his attention, ignoring Johnny's grumbling that told him not to do that.
''Monsieur Joestar, Monsieur Zeppeli?'' The suit attendant said behind the counter, with an elegant and inviting smile. ''It's always a pleasure to meet runners in our store.''
''Holy shit, Johnny! Look at the price of these things!'' Gyro ignored the attendant. ''What was she doing in a place like this? She shouldn't even have money to cover her legs.''
''I don't know, Gyro.'' Johnny replied, letting out a long, tired sigh. ''Er... Good afternoon, sir. Did you happen to see a strange woman come through here? She always has a flower in her hair and looks like a witch.''
The attendant looked at Gyro for a few seconds before answering, as if he needed to think hard to remember some similar woman. Johnny felt slightly uncomfortable describing her that way, but witch or not, (Y/N) had the right way for witchcraft. He approached himself in the wheelchair, cautiously. Among the other strong odors of the store, stood out the cherry liqueur. He figured, then, that she may have come by to re-order her exaggerated stash of alcoholic beverages.
''Oui, oui, maybe I've seen a woman like that.'' The attendant replied, rambling in his own words. ''Charming, indeed, but I had to ask her to put on a shoe before she came into my shop. I don't know about you, but in my opinion, a woman should never dress like that.''
Gyro approached the counter without looking at the man. Distracting from the shelf filled with white bottled glazed porcelain, each ornamented with golden flourishes, some were written things in Latin that Gyro didn't manage to translate.
''I'd be surprised if you had any chick.'' He turned his attention to the attendant, striving to defend the honor of the woman who, when alone with Johnny, he calls strega.
''Ah, well... not currently... but it's not for lack of suitors! I mean...''
''Do you know where she went?'' Johnny interrupted him.
''I believe she is no longer in the city, Monsieur Joestar.'' He straightened. ''She was accompanied by that Indian, the runner without a horse. I didn't allow him to enter the store because he was barefoot, so the woman bought some things and left. She said she'd leave before the runners to avoid the uproar.''
''Gyro, she was with Sandman? Since when do they know each other?''
''I don't know, Johnny. She seems to know everyone in this damn race. Hey, you said she bought some stuff, didn't you? What did she buy?''
''I'm sorry, monsieur Zeppeli, but my clients ' activities are confidential.''
''Confidential will be the kick I'll give on your ass if you don't spit it out at once!'' The Italian was exasperated, coming close to the counter.
''Ouais! Alright, I say!'' The attendant began to whisper, approaching his head from the two men. ''I need you to keep this only between us because I'm going to help you... We sell, well... magic items.''
''Magic items?'' Johnny bowed to hear better. ''What are you talking about?''
''She bought three of our potions. Somehow, she knew we sold it. We're always discreet about our exclusive products, but maybe someone told her.''
''Isn't that discreet, since you're telling us this.'' Gyro scoffed. ''Come on, tell me, what else did she buy?''
''Three potions and a gramophone, Monsieur Zeppeli.''
A moment of silence hovered, Johnny and Gyro looked at each other again as if they had some secret language. Johnny thanked the attendant and soon the two left. The street outside was coming to shine as the midday sun illuminated the upper facades of the stone houses. There was a lot of activity on the street; workers and runners engaged in bustling the city, sellers of fresh fruits, vegetables and seafood in hand carts, advertising their products to the screaming, and the cooks of the Steel Ball Run buffet coming up from the kitchen doors. A coal-laden delivery wagon slowly roamed the street, pulled by an old horse that seemed to prefer to be in a stable. But no sign of (Y/N).
Eventually, they accepted that she had left for Kansas City without worrying about keeping pace with the race, but knowing that she was with Sandman still intrigued them. Besides, magic potions? Frankly.
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