It was nothing less than a miracle. A stand that could heal anything and everything, including life-threatening injuries. Josuke had been given a talent that appeared to mock the concept of death, giving strength to limbs that had been smashed beyond recognition.

Despite all of this extraordinary power, there remained one heartbreaking truth: the one life he wished to save the most was forever out of reach. You, his older sister, were born frail, a weakness innate to your very existence, an immutable reality that his stand could not change, no matter how much he wished it could.

Where laughter danced in the air and sunlight streamed through the open sky, he often found himself lost in the fragments of those childhood memories, Those days having slipped away like grains of sand through his fingers. Caught in a ceaseless battle against your own frailty, you'd remained confined within the four walls of your room while he'd grown, the years coming and going.

Yet, you never voiced any complaints, and in turn, neither did he. The moments you shared were filled with a profound joy, a warm happiness that transcended the monotony of the four walls that surrounded you, unchanging and ever-present.

With his bag slung over his shoulder, Josuke hurried up the stairs after school, each step filled with urgency, his breath a little ragged. He had a sister to entertain, after all. The door to your room swung open, unannounced, revealing his bashful grin as he tossed his bag aside and settled down beside you.

"Have I kept you waiting? I’m sorry! Okuyasu was going on about some ridiculous story—well, it doesn’t matter," he quickly interjected, brushing aside the thought of his friend's ramblings. "I rushed over as fast as I could. I can only imagine how bored you are without me around."