Work Text:
An Exchange of Experiences
Jotaro sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket and looking at the priest who was preaching to him about family, duty and God.
And Jotaro had thought Star Platinum was overpowered.
Whitesnake was overpowered.
Jotaro, with Whitesnake, had taken Enrico Pucci’s memories of DIO. Even though Pucci now had Star Platinum, he had no reason to use it against Jotaro now. He was now just a normal priest.
The Stand they’d run into: Running Up That Hill, a Stand that made you swap Stands with the Stand user closest to you as well as experience the other’s memories.
“How do I swap them back?” Jotaro had demanded of the Stand user, fist clenched around the women’s collar.
The woman had smirked. “You have to kiss each other,” she said. “Even if you kill me, your Stands won’t return to you otherwise.”
So now Jotaro was in a position where, if he wanted his Stand back, he’d have to kiss his enemy.
“But here’s the catch,” the woman had said: “it has to be a tender kiss. A kiss of understanding.”
Jotaro was beyond frustrated. Posting on his private Twitter account because he needed to vent.
Of course, the thing about his priv was that he didn’t actually have any followers who could read and respond to the tweets. It was literally just for venting to himself. As a way to keep from punching the shit out of people in frustration.
Jotaro had, due to Running Up That Hill, experienced all of Pucci’s memories. He’d seen all of Pucci’s interactions with DIO.
Pucci had seen a side of DIO that Jotaro had never known existed. Now he was confused. His confusion made him angry.
And then there was the fact that he’d discovered what had happened to Pucci’s brother and that he was also memory-less.
Jotaro clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he continued ranting on his priv.
But then again, if they switched Stands again, would Pucci’s memories automatically return to him? And if they did, then Jotaro would have to deal with the man as his enemy again and find some way to stop his plan to lock the world in a state of eternal recurrence.
As things were, Pucci’s plan was successfully stopped. But their Stands were switched.
But was that so bad?
Pucci may have had Star Platinum, but Jotaro had taken his memories of his life in the form of a DISC.
And now he was in a particularly strange situation because Running Up That Hill had allowed Pucci to experience all of Jotaro’s memories.
Which meant that now Pucci, as a normal priest (aside from, well, having Star Platinum) was preaching to Jotaro about how he should fix things with his daughter and wife. About how repairing his relationships could help him heal from all the trauma in his life.
Jotaro groaned. He typed once more on his phone, posting to his followerless priv.
“Forget that,” Jotaro said, interrupting Pucci’s speech. “My family is none of your business.” He gestured between them. “More importantly, what do we do about our Stands?”
Pucci sighed. “Kissing a man goes against God. And it wouldn’t work unless we sympathize with each other anyway. Due to the nature of Whitesnake, I can only assume that you’ve taken some of my memories, though I now have no idea what you’ve taken from me.” He gestured elegantly. “But is it really such a terrible thing that our Stands have switched?”
Jotaro grit his jaw. “Also,” he said, “you really have no right to lecture me about family after what you did to Weather Report.”
Pucci’s face shuttered. “I did my best to try and fix it,” he said.
“By taking his memories,” Jotaro countered.
“By giving him a fresh start,” Pucci said.
It occurred to Jotaro, suddenly, that he could use Whitesnake to take Jolyne’s memories of him.
The thought left him stunned.
If he took Jolyne’s memories of him, she wouldn’t hate him anymore. She wouldn’t be hurt by him anymore.
Suddenly he understood what Pucci had done to his brother. It left his mouth dry.
“Oh,” he said quietly.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Pucci said to him compassionately. “You try to hold too much on your own shoulders. Let me help.”
Jotaro’s hand tightened around his phone.
“This is too bizarre,” he murmured.
“I don’t know why we were enemies, but…” Pucci pulled out his own phone, tapping on the screen. Jotaro felt his own phone receive a notification and looked to see that he’d received a follower request from a Twitter account that could only have been Pucci’s.
“It could help to actually share your venting with someone,” Pucci told him.
Jotaro closed his eyes, his finger hovering over the decline button.
Pucci had no idea what Jotaro had taken from his mind. But if Jotaro had taken something that had been painful to him, he could hardly blame him, having done the same to Weather Report. He understood the bliss of ignorance.
Jotaro was a great man who had been through a lot. Pucci was a priest; it was his calling to help people achieve peace of mind.
He wanted to help Jotaro in whatever way he could.
“I don’t think we should switch our Stands back,” Pucci told him. Jotaro opened his eyes to look at him in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
Pucci and gestured and said, “The same way ignorance of memories can allow a fresh start, perhaps swapping Stands was the same. You’ve been cleansed of your Stand which resembles that of your greatest enemy, and you’ve been cleansed of everything you’ve done with it—likewise I’ve been cleansed of what I’ve used Whitesnake for. Perhaps having new Stands could be like a fresh start. Stands are a reflection of the soul, after all; if we’ve switched Stands, perhaps that will allow us to cleans our souls and start anew.”
Reaching out, Pucci carefully pressed the accept button on Jotaro’s phone screen.
“There,” he said. “That’s another start.”
Jotaro pulled his hat lower over his eyes and Pucci smiled softly.
Jotaro’s phone received another alert, and he looked down to see that Pucci had replied to one of his tweets.
