The ship glided across the ocean, the sun warm and the breeze steady—a rare stretch of calm the group actually welcomed.

Jotaro lounged against a crate, hat tipped low, pretending to nap. Kakyoin sat nearby with a puzzle book. You were stretched out beside them on the deck, a newspaper held above your face.

For a few blessed minutes, the world was quiet.

Then you let out a distressed, soul-crushed groan.

Kakyoin didn’t look up. “...Oh no. What now?”

You slowly lowered the paper with the gravity of someone delivering world-ending news.

“I am... emotionally compromised,” you said.

Jotaro opened one eye. Barely.

Kakyoin gave up on guessing. “Alright. Why?”

You sat up, pointing at the article with a pained look. “Orcas have been GIVING HUMANS GIFTS—like fish, kelp, shells—and sometimes the humans reject them… They just swim away. Heartbroken.”

The word hung in the air.

Kakyoin blinked. “That’s what you’re upset about?”

“Yes!” you said, exasperated. “They’re thoughtful and majestic and someone just says ‘no thanks’ to their lovingly selected fish? I would sink myself.”

Jotaro didn’t speak—but his eye lingered on you. Orcas. Marine life. People being ungrateful. He didn’t comment, but something about it bothered him too.

“They’re already endangered in some areas…” you mumbled, staring out across the water, “and now they’re getting rejected? Unbelievable.”

Jotaro’s jaw tightened, just once. He shut his eye again, but didn’t scoff or dismiss you like he normally would. Instead, he muttered low enough only nearby ears might catch:

“Tch… Humans should know better.”

You froze for a moment, thrown by the quiet agreement—but then Kakyoin spoke up.

“Are you seriously planning to avenge whale feelings?”

“YES,” you said passionately, “someone needs to accept their emotional fish offerings!”

Before anyone could reply, Polnareff emerged from below deck, stretching. “Hey! What’s with the shouting about seafood trauma?”

You turned to him, eyes blazing with purpose. “Orcas give gifts to humans and they get REJECTED!”

Polnareff stared—then burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious! You’re crying over lovesick whales?”

That was the wrong response.

Without a word, you rolled up the newspaper and stood.

“Hey—what’re you—?”

WHAP.

Polnareff yelped as you repeatedly smacked his arm and shoulder. “RESPECT! THEIR! FISH! POLNAREFF!”

“OW! STOP—WHAT THE HELL—”

Kakyoin watched blankly. “I warned you.”

Jotaro didn’t intervene. At all. In fact, he tilted his hat further down, but his lips twitched—almost a smile. Just a hint.

Polnareff scrambled behind a barrel as you advanced. “ALRIGHT! FINE! I’LL TAKE THEIR FISH—JUST QUIT HITTING ME!”

You stopped, satisfied, and returned to your spot to flatten the newspaper again.

Jotaro opened his eyes, just slightly, watching you settle back down.

You huffed. “If an orca ever brings me a fish, I’m framing it.”

Without looking at you, Jotaro said gruffly, “…I’d accept it too.”

You blinked, surprised—but a small smile spread across your face.

Kakyoin stared between the two of you. “This group is actually insane.”

And far behind the ship, somewhere in the endless blue, the orcas were spiritually vindicated—and one stoic delinquent marine biologist-in-denial felt just a little more seen.