As soon as the door shuts—once the Joestars, Avdol, and Polnareff have finally left the room—he lets go of the ‘carefree hero’ facade, a deep sigh escaping his lips. His head falls back, heavy, against the pillow of his cot, the exhaustion finally taking over him.

Ever since N’Doul's attack, his sight has been stolen from him. It's not supposed to be permanent, but every day it feels more like a cruel reminder of how vulnerable he is now. His once sharp senses, the very things that helped him navigate the world, are gone. He’s left in the dark, both literally and figuratively. It’s not just the blindness that eats at him, though. It’s the helplessness—the fact that he's lying in a hospital bed while the rest of his friends are out there, risking their lives in the search for Dio. And all the while, he’s kept you here, tethered to his side like a needy dog.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s a burden. The thought gnaws at him until it stings. He’s not the one doing the fighting anymore. He’s not the one making a difference. He’s just waiting.

“…How long did they say I had to stay here?”

His voice is quiet, almost distant, as if the question is more for himself than anyone else.