Chapter 13: Trust and truth
The night was a thick, suffocating blanket, pressing down on the city. A low-hung moon cast long, distorted shadows that danced like wraiths across the cracked pavement. The air, heavy with the scent of rain and exhaust, seemed to hold its breath, muffling the distant wail of a siren into a mournful echo. It was the kind of night that felt like an omen, a prelude to violence.
**Night - First Person (Jotaro)**
"Why did you buy me this, Jotaro?" Martha asked, her eyes fixed on the small, ornate box in my hands.
"Martha," I began, my voice lower than usual. "You're the only person in this world I trust with my life. You've been with me through thick and thin. The reason I'm telling you this is because I need to share a secret with you, something you might need to know down the road."
She studied my face for a moment, then gave a slow, deliberate nod. "...Alright. I'm listening."
I pulled a small, heavy pistol from my coat and held it out to her, grip first. "Here. Shoot me with this."
Her eyes widened. "Are you out of your damn mind, Jotaro?"
Her gaze hardened, the trust I had just invoked warring with her own caution. "No," she countered, taking a deliberate step back, her hand raised as if to ward me off.
"You don't know the limits of your power, or the price of using it. From the look on your face, you don't have perfect control yet. I'm not taking that risk."
"Those are all 'ifs,'" I shot back, my voice gaining a sharp, impatient edge.
"And let's say for a second I didn't have a one hundred percent guarantee. I wouldn't have asked you to do this in the first place." I held her stare, letting the silence stretch, forcing her to make the choice.
Finally, her shoulders slumped in resignation. She snatched the pistol from my hand, her grip clumsy but determined. She pointed it at my chest, her knuckles white.
"Just do it," I urged, my voice a low growl. "Pull that trigger."
Her finger tightened on the trigger. The moment I saw the subtle twitch in her arm, I snapped my fingers. The sharp *crack* of the gunshot echoed in the dead air, but the bullet never reached me.
Instead of a projectile, a torrent of brilliant, liquid color erupted from the barrel. The gun in her hand dissolved, its solid form vanished into a splash of vibrant graffiti that splattered across the pavement at her feet.
"See?" I muttered, a triumphant smirk spreading across my face. "Nothing happened."
Martha stared at the ground, then at her now-empty hands, her expression a perfect portrait of shock and disbelief. A short, sharp laugh escaped my lips. "HAhhah! What happened? I just told you nothing bad would happen—"
My taunt was cut short as she lunged forward, throwing her arms around me in a bone-crushing embrace. My face was buried in her huge warm chest, her body trembling.
"Never do that again," she whispered, her voice muffled but fierce. "Never." Her fear quickly morphed into something else, something raw and possessive.
She tilted her head up, and before I could speak, her lips were on mine.
The kiss was desperate, a frantic clash of teeth and tongue. She bit my lower lip, a sharp sting that was immediately soothed by a deep, consuming french kiss that left no room for air. It went on until she was breathless, pulling back with a gasp, her eyes burning with an intensity that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Cute," I said, my own voice a little ragged. "Can we do that again?"
"Not enough for one day," she panted, a feral smile gracing her lips.
Her mood shifted as quickly as it had arrived. "Are there any more secrets you have?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Well, actually…" I tried to remember as there were many like my old childhood friend in Japan, many family secrets. "You do then." She was slightly taken back.
"Yeah, it's in the family," I confessed honestly, she was not ready or anyone in her palace would be. "But you'll have to wait for that one."
My eyes narrowed playfully. "What about you? Do you have secrets?"
"Me?" She hesitated, the momentary levity fading. "I do. But to know it, you have to promise nothing will change between us."
My expression softened. "I guarantee it."
She took a deep breath as she spoke. "I have four daughters. All four of them are adopted. They're independent."
I blinked a few times, processing the information. "Huh? I thought it was just one..." A slow, genuine smile spread across my face. "Good for us, I guess."
"...Just like that." She muttered in disbelief. No outrage, no dramatic argument, just acceptance.
"Well, they are normal humans. If they turn out to be something like heroes or hunters—Power Girl, Wonder Woman, Supergirl types—then I'm sure my mind would short circuit." I spoke the most random absurd nonsense I could think of which could never be true even if tomorrow the world gets destroyed.
"HUh? How did you know?" She asked, her guard suddenly up. She reacted in a way which speaks like it's all true which really blew my mind off.
"What do I know… wait, wait. You are saying…" Her eyes widened as the pieces clicked together in my mind and began to make sense of her act.
"....Fuck."
"....Never knew my most absolute bullshit nonsense could be true. Haha ahahaa." I sighed, the weight of the night finally settling back on my shoulders.
"I guess both of us need some rest." I admitted, she responded with silence.
A sly, playful glint returned to her eyes, chasing away the shock. "I think I'm turned on somehow," she purred, stepping closer again. "How about spoiling me?"
"Want me to dominate you?" I asked, unsure. I thought I was the only one who wanted to be spoiled. "Yeah I want to see the dominant side of yours."
"Fine." I accepted. I mean in a relationship only I can't demand something I also have to give.
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