Jotaro Kujo is the last man anyone would expect being so tolerant of stalking. That’s exactly what this chain of events equated to, after all. Every so often a feeling rose in his mind, a feeling that he’s being watched, being followed as he made his usual strolls around the area. Keen green eyes worked hard to survey his surroundings. To understand the mechanics of not only setting, but student as well. To further his personal investigation, he had to keep an eye on everyone and what they did on a daily basis, how it differed from their typical schedules.Â
No matter how decisive material evidence can be, he still needed suspects to tie into them. As much as he hated to admit it, suspects were what he was lacking. Not only one, but two bodies were in dire need of further investigation, however without possible suspects, Jotaro could not further his search.
Distractions were abound, unfortunately. His walk to the park was a stressful one— he could not shake the feeling of being stalked by someone; whether or not that someone is a threat to him is debatable. He’s calmed his temperament considerably over the few months, yes, but there still lies the blood of a Joestar, infamous for its low boiling point.
Hands in his pockets, his pace stopped in the middle of the park.
Jotaro turned his entire body. The culprit is caught red-handed. Or white handed.
An otherworldly culprit, no doubt. Standing tall, brows furrowed as he opened his mouth to question her— only to hear that she’s speaking for herself.Â
There’s no point in humoring her odd sense of conversation. As curious as he is to ask about her features— for instance, her ivory skin, twin-colored hair, and that horn of hers— there were more pressing matters to attend to. "Why are you following me?"Â
