#josuro

It was a well known fact that by looking good, one would also naturally feel good - or at least, this was a mantra that Josuke preferred to live by. Some might chalk it up to his youthful egotism, but Josuke didn’t wear nice clothes to get looks of envy. When he saw a girl with a particularly fetching blouse or a man with pin-straight folds in his dress pants, Josuke felt a sense of respect to the artfulness the wearer possessed that inspired them to purchase such an article of clothing, wear it with pride, and maintain its upkeep. Maybe he was just thinking too much, but when he looked in the mirror and liked what he saw - well, he hoped others would to. His personal interest was shoes; meant to ease the stress of being on one’s feet, shoes deserved to be well made and of good quality. He buffed his specially-imported Italian leather loafers with the care that his mother often complained would be spent better on his schooling.

For all her scoldings and close protection of snack foods, his mother was most precious to him (“You’re a mama’s boy,” Okuyasu said once, with an expression that Josuke found a little unnerving). So, Josuke decided, for her birthday, he would buy her a beautiful outfit worthy of a woman who raised him so finely through blood, sweat, and tears. It must not be cheap, because that would be insulting, and Josuke wanted her to be able to cherish the clothes he bought her for years to come. It must not be common, because he did not want her to walk into the store and see someone else wearing the same thing; it had to catch the eye with how marvelous and unique it was. For that reason, he didn’t think he could find what he was looking for in Morioh, and as he browsed catalogues for stores in the city, he fretted that the colors might not match or the fabric was wrong or that his mother might intercept the package before he could have a chance to inspect it and wrap it up and surprise her. This outfit would require a personal trip into the city, which he had never really ventured into, but Josuke was confident he had a plan. Sneaking enough money out of his mother’s bank account created especially for him, he scampered off to the one person he knew would know their way around a big city.

“Would I like to go with you into the city?” Rohan repeated.

“That’s exactly what I said,” Josuke confirmed.

“And what exactly would I get from this trip with you?”

“Uh - my deeply engaging and riveting company?” Rohan started closing the front door in his face at this and Josuke quickly backtracked; Rohan didn’t take too well to his jokes. “I mean, you’ve been holed up in your house in Morioh for months, so it’ll be nice to get a chance of pace, right? Maybe you’ll get inspiration for your series or something. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

Rohan mouthed the word ‘vacation’ and turned his nose up a little more, tipping his chin up. “Your unexpected observation of my travelling habits is duly noted; it is about time I should go out and collect more material. But those are usually trips I take alone. I’ve got no interest chaperoning you on your frivolous outings.”

“It’s not frivolous. I’ve got a motive. I won’t take you around aimlessly, I promise.”

“A motive!” Rohan sputtered. Josuke didn’t know he came off that unreliable, that directionless that the idea of him planning anything out made Rohan go red with shock. He felt a little insulted.

“Yes,” Josuke said, his brow furrowing (but slightly; he didn’t want to look so put-out that Rohan reconsidered helping him). “There’s something I need to buy for someone and I need you to do it with me.”

Crazy Diamond grabbed Heaven’s Door’s head with one large hand. “Come on!” Josuke protested. It was a good thing his reflexes were so honed; Rohan had called Heaven’s Door just as he was finishing the last syllable of his last sentence. “Is the idea of spending just a few hours of your time with me so offensive to you that you’d make me reconsider by force?”

Rohan was getting angry, Josuke could tell. His face was a deep shade of flushed pink. He wondered how to deescalate the situation, but before he could whip out some flattering lines that usually worked on his mother or a teacher who caught him sneaking out, Rohan spoke. “I doubt the sincerity of your intentions, Higashikata Josuke, but fine. I will go along with your suspect plan. I am available on Friday and expect you at my house at six in the evening on the dot.”

“Sure!” Crazy Diamond let go of Heaven’s Door, who hovered at Rohan’s shoulder with a matching look of skepticism. “You won’t regret it, I promise.” It seemed everything he said made Rohan bristle. Now that he’d had his answer, it was in his best interest to leave immediately before Rohan changed his mind. “Okay, cool! I’ll see you then! Don’t lose any sleep over it because you’re excited!”

Josuke told Okuyasu and Koichi because best friends didn’t keep any secrets. “I don’t know why you’d want to hang out with that buzzkill when you’re looking for a smoking hot outfit for your mom,” Okuyasu said, too busy getting the last of the juice at the bottom of the juice box to notice the look Josuke had on his face at the comment, “but I guess it makes sense. I’d be totally useless to help you around Tokyo or wherever. I’m just a simple country boy.”

“And I figured you’d probably be busy with Yukako,” Josuke said, turning to Koichi. “I mean, the idea doesn’t make me want to skip down the street with joy either, but if Rohan can point me in a general direction of good boutiques that aren’t overpriced for bad quality, then I guess I can put up with him. I don’t get the feeling he really hates me anyway, so I don’t think he’d mess with me on purpose!”

“I don’t know about that,” Koichi said. “But I didn’t think he was going to be so resistant to helping you pick out a gift for your mom. He might not like you, but I don’t think that carries over to your mom.”

“Who wouldn’t like Josuke’s mom?” Okuyasu asked. “She’s so...nice.” Josuke quickly changed the topic of conversation.

On Friday, Josuke slipped past his mother around five-thirty, after loudly declaring when he had arrived home that he had a change of heart and that he would dedicate the night to his homework. She did not look convinced, but she had not bothered him as he counted his money again and left a note on his door to leave his dinner in the fridge because he wasn’t sure when he would finish all his work. When he arrived at the house, Rohan was already standing outside waiting for him, his portfolio bag slung around his shoulder, which was peaking out of his sweater. Certainly, distressed clothing was not off-brand for Rohan - and it was a stylistic choice Josuke himself could not pull off, but it felt appropriate for someone as purposeful as Rohan - but for whatever reason, Josuke thought he looked a little more put together than usual.

Apparently, Rohan thought the same. He gave Josuke a long once-over. “That’s what you’re wearing?” he asked, the skepticism heavy in his voice.

Josuke looked down at himself. He thought it was an improvement from the standard issued school uniform; his sweater was soft and imported and he had spent time bleaching his jeans to the exact shade of blue he had wanted. He wasn’t dressed to the nines, certainly, but he didn’t expect him to for a simple city outing. “What’s wrong with it? I don’t really dress up when I’m clothes shopping.”

“Clothes shopping, huh. I knew this was just an excuse for you to buy things for yourself.”

“I’m not buying clothes for myself,” Josuke emphasized, looking Rohan in the eyes unflinchingly to demonstrate how sincere he was. He thought it was getting results, because after a moment of unbroken eye contact, Rohan looked away and fiddled with his phone as if overcome with respect and awe.

“The plane should be arriving soon, but I don’t have enough space in my backyard for the runway; we should be going.”

“Plane?” Josuke followed Rohan, quickly calculating the distance from Morioh to Tokyo; Tokyo was the closest city, so he had thought it would be assumed that it was the city he meant to go to. While he had no qualms inconveniencing Rohan to bring the man down a few notches, organizing a plane to take them somewhere like Kyoto seemed too extreme. “I thought maybe we could take the bus, or a car if you had one, but…”

“I don’t do things in halves,” Rohan sniffed. “Of course, now the route has to be replanned. You said you wanted to buy clothes. It won’t be a major upset; I assumed you’d have wanted to buy something imported so I anticipated this.”

“Rohan,” Josuke said. He was about to say that this was ridiculous and he was flattered that Rohan had gone through the trouble to set it up, but he really didn’t mind just looking around the malls in Tokyo when they came upon the runway (hastily put together in the past few days, it seemed) and Josuke’s mouth stayed open wordlessly. A private jet was waiting for them on one side of the strip. Josuke continued being speechless as they were led onto the plane and marveled at the carpet beneath his shoes and the sparkling water offered to him that he didn’t answer when Rohan asked him where he wanted to go.

“Milan, then,” Rohan decided, and the pilot bowed his head and returned to the cockpit.

When they finally landed, Josuke scampered off the plane, legs itchy from having sat for so long and as the target of Rohan’s scrutiny, the scratches of pen over paper now enough to send gooseflesh up his arms. Still, before he got far, he remembered that he wouldn’t be where he was at - Italy, which he hadn’t really fully comprehended - without the manga artist, so he dug in his heels and plastered on a big grin. Rohan debarked calmly, as if he hadn’t been cooped up in a tiny space for hours, but he had a flair for the dramatic.

“Where first?” Josuke asked, half of him wishing to get the trip over with so he no longer had to be at Rohan’s mercy and the other half realizing in horror that a return flight would be that same ordeal all over again. The very first thing, of course, was to the airport currency exchange counter; next, Rohan took them to an art gallery.

This was not what Josuke had expected. “Do they sell clothes here too?”

“You uncultured fool. I applaud you for having drive and direction, but when one comes to Milan, one doesn’t only see the shops.” Josuke supposed that was true; after all, when his father visited, Joseph definitely did not stay within the confines of his hotel to focus on his bastard child or the Morioh murderer. Not one to visit art galleries independently, Josuke trailed behind Rohan the whole way, already knowing the earful he would get if he wandered off and broke something.

“So,” Rohan said, breaking the silence of the room they were sitting in. They were seated in front of a painting of ladies with draping cloth over their bodies. The viewing bench was not wide enough to accommodate a healthy gap of space between them (Josuke, begrudgingly remembering a certain tense bus ride), so Josuke leaned back instead for personal space. It allowed him a view over Rohan’s shoulder. “What kind of clothes were you thinking of buying on this trip?”

Josuke believed in clothes shopping with an open mind. Having a target was helpful, but it was always difficult to find exactly the item one was looking for - the color could be wrong, the fabric too stiff, the wear unflattering. He found it much more rewarding when he threw himself into it and let the prized item come to him. “Well...something elegant, I guess. Something that matches the character of the wearer. I don’t know the exact details about it! My love and care for them will show by finding and picking the outfit that best compliments them.”

Rohan hunched over further over his artist board. After a while, Josuke risked losing his hand and poked him square in the spine. “Hey, your back’s gonna hurt if you keep your posture like that, stupid.” Surprisingly, Rohan did not turn around and slice his wrist in two with his pen nib, choosing instead to shove his face further into his paper. He was so focused his ears were turning red, Josuke saw. How someone survived by working themselves into such a frenzy was beyond him.

Afterwards, they had a nice meal and a cup of strong coffee. Rohan was being surprisingly muted for having spent so many hours together, but Josuke figured there was something soothing about the Mediterranean air. People in Milan looked like runway models and walked leisurely and were free with how they shook hands and kissed each other on the cheeks in greeting. It was really getting to Rohan, because he kept brushing his hand over Josuke’s, which was really unexpected. If Josuke didn’t know any better, he would think the mood was getting a little like a date - which fit with how the Italian culture was supposedly very romantic. He would recommend Koichi take Yukako here, although realistically he doubted Koichi would have the funds to do it.

When they finally entered the fashion district, Rohan tossed his nose up and said, “Just so you know, my favorite color is purple.”

“Okay,” Josuke said. In the third boutique, he found an exquisite red dress in his mother’s exact size; it was elaborate without being too artful - she would no doubt want to wear it during nice dinners or to visits in the city but she would not wear it often if it was really impractical. He bought her a nice leather clutch to match.

Rohan waited until Josuke had paid and had the dress wrapped up and in nice paper outside the store to punch him in the stomach with the agility only Heaven’s Door possessed.

“What gives?” Josuke howled, carefully holding his mother’s gift over the ground where dirt or a stray puddle could ruin it.

“You’ve really made a fool out of me, Josuke,” Rohan hissed, ignoring the way people were starting to give them anxious looks. “If you had just said that you wanted to buy a gift for one of your little girlfriends, I would have just shipped you off into Tokyo without a second thought. Now I’m going to cancel the hotel reservation and get you back on that plane; I can’t stand even looking at you.”

“I wouldn’t go to these limits for a little girlfriend,” Josuke protested. He thought Rohan would pummel him right then and there, with how livid he looked. His face was a shade of red distinct from the other ones Josuke had seen. But instead, Rohan turned and stormed away without a second look.

When Josuke caught up with him along the Naviglio Grande, Rohan had relented enough to let him get close enough to talk. “You thought I wanted you to come along so I could buy you something?” Rohan ignored him. “Well, I mean...I guess I could, if you wanted. I don’t know if I can afford anything you want. But this is for my mom. It’s her birthday soon, so I wanted to get her something special, that’s all.”  

“You could have just said that instead of having us both waste our time with this farce.”

“I don’t think it was a waste. I have a little bit of money left. I’ll get you something if you want.”

“I’m above scrimping something out of a high school student.” Rohan’s mouth twisted when Josuke grasped his arm to keep him from continuing to barrel ahead. “And it’s as you said; you can’t afford anything I’d like.”

“Look. Don’t cancel your reservation. It’s getting late anyway, and I’m sure you don’t want to sleep on the plane if you can help it. Let’s get something to eat. Okay?” Josuke turned on his thousand watt smile. It was blinding to most mortals. As Rohan discovered after the Kira Incident, he was very much mortal.

(“So did your mom like the dress?” Koichi asked.

“She did! She was kind of mad when I was just gone for a whole weekend, because she didn’t believe I was doing homework so quietly for the whole time and found that I wasn’t in my room, but I think she forgave me a little when I gave her the clothes and everything all wrapped up nicely!”

“Hold on, wait up,” Okuyasu said. “First of all, I can’t believe Kishibe Rohan did all that just to help you out. That’s so unbelieveable. I mean, a plane and a trip and a hotel all expenses paid and everything. But you said there was a huge plush bed there? As in, one bed? Where did you sleep then?”