People who knew me said I was a shy, yet fierce woman at the same time. I would be one of those people who you never suspected would punch you in the face at the slightest provocation, transforming from a wallflower to a raging she-demon. This occured, often, when something like my favorite anime was on the line.

Split lips and black eyes were found on both sides after the ensuing chaos finally died down.

I stared at the screen of my laptop, finally finished with the finale of one of my latest obsessions and looking at the comments. One jerk claimed that it was entirely too unrealistic, too childish, not good. And so my patience, tense already from a taxing day at my job, snapped.

"No, you're wrong!" I muttered fiercely, fingers slamming down on keys with the force of an angry elephant. "It's good! You just don't have the brains to realize that!"

My fury only abated when a blazing pain suddenly erupted in the back of my head without warning like a long-dormant volcano. Fireworks burst behind my eyes, vision blurring and darkening. Limbs weakened, and my body fell limply from the chair, unable to move.

The dying rays of the setting sun was the last thing I saw before stygian consumed my consciousness.

I came to in a void, disoriented and confused. Black oppressed me from every angle.

The blackness was overwhelming, drowning me in its depths. It seemed to prod and tug at my mind like trying to untie a knot, but I stubbornly refused, clinging to myself with everything I had. I couldn't lose more. I'd already lost the little things, like the name of my first cat, a cute little tabby, or the face of one of my childhood friends.

The memories of my death (wait, I'd died?) whirled inside me, replaying over and over again like some kind of sick dance of the afterlife. My soul curled around them, uncomprehending and numb at the revelation.

That was unexpected. And far too sudden. I didn't get to say goodbye. I hadn't-

Then it yanked, jolting me, but I was unyielding and protected the core of my being, my most treasured memories and experiences. But despite my efforts, more tiny bits of my consciousness were shaved off and floated away. There went my first teacher's name. There went- Oh heavens that was my fifth birthday-

Panic set in, was swallowed and intensified, and I was desperately screaming. I knew I was screaming, even if I couldn't hear a trace of the echoing shrieks that escaped me into the dark abyss that enshrouded me. Eating me, piece by piece, like some lavish dinner.

I couldn't go on like this, couldn't just...fade away like a ghost. A rage began building somewhere within me, burning away at the darkness like a small star and thwarting any further attempts on my mind. It was my hope, my memories, my very soul. I would fight, and I would win.

And I would live to see another sunrise!

The star erupted into a supernova.

And then there was a great wail, like that of a child, and I was thrust into the light. Dazed, a kaleidoscope of lights blurred around me like a haphazard disco rave, and there was a shrill female scream hitting the ceiling.

I was somewhere else.

A huge pressure squeezed on me and then everything was cold, and I wanted to be warm again, and then there was a second source of lights and sounds and blurry sensations, and it was too much. I cried and shrieked, but I was also standing in shock at the scene of a bright hospital room containing an army of medical personnel and an Asian woman heaving for air on the bed.

Not warm, want warm- I pressed midnight blue hands against the sides of my head where ears should have been, but instead felt only smooth, rounded circles, attempting to drown out the immature thoughts that I somehow instinctively knew were also mine. My eyes squeezed shut, quivering and confused.

I was supposed to be dead. But I'm not.

I was in two places at once. Baby me being handled by an assortment of doctors, and adult me stuffed into something else in the same room, something apparently invisible and intangible to the medical staff. Another piercing cry hit the ceiling of the white room, and I opened my eyes back up in time to see another baby force its way out of the womb.

The next five minutes were spent desperately dry-heaving in the corner, my mind now scarred for this apparent new life. Hah, no. I wasn't nearly that squeamish. But seriously, someone should invent brain bleach.

I blocked out another wave of immature emotions radiating from the baby burbling in front of me, retreating into my own head to cradle my fragile thoughts.

Everything felt numb. My gaze dropped to the navy blue hands that quivered before me. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my fraying nerves. Okay. What did I know about my situation?

The spiritual form I inhabited now was not my own body. That much was made abundantly clear by the navy blue and lavender purple coloration of it, along with abnormalities like the silver stars emblazoned on my limbs and chest, or the loincloth that covered the fact that I had no privates anymore.

Well, at least periods couldn't get the jump on me ever again.

A high pitched giggle escaped me, which quickly broke down into a keening cry that I cut off with a shaking hand, tears pricking at my eyes. This was my un-life now, huh? Doomed to go unseen by anyone, unable to even eavesdrop on conversations since they were in Japanese.

A hand rose, then slapped me hard across the cheek, leaving a quickly fading stinging sensation in its wake. I blinked hard, breathed deeply, and lowered the limb to glower fiercely at it.

I was better than this, for Pete's sake! I was Jen Nasino, the woman who had once beaten up five boys who dared to diss my friend! The thing in the corner of your eye that creeped you out! The Boogeywoman in the closet at night! The-

Okay, maybe I was getting a bit carried away with this. But I did not mope around like a sad cat lady!

My lip quivered a little at the thought of Lucy and Lisa. Hopefully someone found them before my body started rotting. For some reason, the word hypocrite flashed through my mind.

Baby me and the twin brother were now in a ward of other babies, and I was forcibly dragged along by what felt like a tether at least five meters long. It was downright irritating that I couldn't go anywhere freely anymore. Stupid botched reincarnation. I probably wouldn't be in this mess if it'd actually worked like it was supposed to, wiping my memories and leaving a giggling, barfing baby girl with no clue of her past life in my place.

As far as I could tell, something had tried to do just that, but I'd fought it off somehow. And with nowhere for those not-erased memories to go, they'd sort of...manifested in this weird form I had now. Because if they tried to stay inside my baby-self's head, it would probably explode. Infants were not made to carry that much information to start with.

I guess I should be more grateful that I was still, y'know, me, but it was a little hard when you were a spirit no one could see and metaphorically dying of boredom.

I sighed heavily, floating around my range to look at the twins before me. Baby me was a light brunette, a tiny wisp of hair atop her head with glittering emerald eyes set beneath. My brother had darker hair and sea green eyes, and both of them were clearly Japanese. Or at least Asian.

Baby me- I really wished I knew my own new name- burbled and set her eyes on me as I hung above. She wriggled and jiggled, thinking pretty, and the ice of my heart melted somewhat. The brother slept softly next to her, and they both looked positively adorable.

But don't be fooled by the impressive guise.

He was a relatively quiet baby at times, but would often cry for no apparent reason at all. That was positively irritating to deal with since I had no way of knowing what he wanted or needed most of the time, and often had no way to get the stuff even if I did know.

As for my baby-self? She was...decently behaved, aside from screeching like a banshee, gumming on my fingers, and generally shooting random thoughts into my brain if I wasn't blocking it off.

Babies could just be a royal pain sometimes.

In my past life, infants were just a thing that I'd never had to deal with. No younger siblings, just the only child in an average family. And thus, I never learned the ways of motherhood, and hadn't wanted to. Other people could deal with bringing up the next generation, and I could deal with my job. Be a productive member of society and all.

But that attitude may be changing in the future. I never knew just how...cute babies could be when they were in a good mood. Especially when it came to tickling and playing with them. They were still little fleshy gremlins when they wanted to be, though. Heh.

Cats were where it was at, though. So fluffy and memeable.

Tiny me, your duty henceforth is to prove me wrong!

Anyway, something interesting was that the twin boy was able to track my movements when his eyes became more developed, clearly able to see me even when no one else besides baby me could. At times like this, a look in his eyes caught me off guard, an intense and wisened gaze that seemed to speak of far more years than a child should have, only to flash back to an innocent stare on a dime.

He was one weird kid, that one, but it wasn't like I had any room to talk.

I never saw my new mother again after our birth. Only nurses and doctors attended to me, my twin and the surrounding children, so maybe we were orphans or something? Frustration abounded when I remembered that everyone muttered and spoke Japanese, so no knowing for sure. I only really knew a few phrases and stuff from absorbing so much anime over the course of my previous life.

Thankfully, I'd deciphered enough muttered Japanese to figure out my name: Haruka. And maybe my twin's too? It tended to be a little hard on his end since a lot of the workers mangled it or something, cooing stuff like "Runo-kun" or "Haru-chan". So Haruno, probably.

We'd been eventually transferred to what appeared to be an underfunded, overworked and understaffed orphanage. Yay, officially orphans! Let the female who birthed us get a mother-of-the-year award for worst performance yet!

A bolt of irritation shot through me at the woman who was supposed to have been my mother. Couldn't own up to having two children, so she chucked them to the government and ran. What's worse is that I'd read somewhere that Japan doesn't exactly have the best care system for orphanages, kids becoming pariahs when they eventually grew up due to a lack of family, or even if they were adopted.

Queen Bee-otch of Bee-otch Land. Buzz. Smother her in milk and honey and let nature do the rest of the work. Tch.

Okay, maybe I wasn't that evil, but I was currently in the sourest of moods since we were taken here. Three months into my new life, no one to talk to, and I swear if that freaking child didn't stop tugging on my younger self's hair I was going to LOSE it.

Playtime was soooo fun. Sarcasm completely intended.

Putting a bunch of babies in a spare room, setting toys in front of them, and then sticking a grand total of one person in there to watch them all was a recipe for disaster. Toddlers fought over every toy, book or object they could get their hands on, gumming on everything if they were teething.

That tiny black haired brat yanked again, my younger self cried, and my patience went over the edge like a morbidly obese man barreling off of Niagara Falls. A soft punt with the tip of my foot satisfied my urge for violence at the cost of my conscience, which was now screaming at me like the now blubbering brat that tipped onto his side.

Don't react, and you're a pansy. Do something about it and you're the most evil scum on the face of the earth.

I cringed, then awkwardly gave the kid a pat on the head. A bewildered look came onto the baby's face, and because it was something new and he couldn't see it, that meant it was bad. So more blubbering occured, and then Haruka joined in for a second round of shrieking.

As all this went down, my brother just watched. I ignored the oddly inquisitive look that flashed across Haruno's face for the briefest instant.

Six months in, and things were suddenly turned on their head. I'd been doing my usual hobby of people watching (Not much else to do when you're basically a shackled spirit) when a familiar figure composed of gold and purple popped out of nowhere.

What. The. Actual. Holy. Crap.

My whole body froze, eyes widening. Behind me, Haruka's face reddened and began crying, fear clenching my chest with every shriek she made. This wasn't possible. And yet...

Before me stood that impossibility. Purple ladybug emblems decorated the limbs, the same color glittering in robotic eyes that stared right at me. Gold crested the skin and engraved delicate shapes into a mushroom like protrusion set on the skull. Tiny white wings sprouted from the shoulders. This was...a Stand.

More specifically, the Stand of one Giorno Giovanna, Gold Experience. It was fictional.

On the other hand, this whole reincarnation spirit BS had happened, and that was pretty much real. I gulped down a sudden knot in my throat. So I must be residing in my Stand. And my brother...was Haruno Shiobana. Giorno Giovanna.

Gold Experience simply stared at me, glassy eyes unblinking and unmoving. That was so friggin creepy, like on the level of a possessed doll kind of creepiness going up your spine. I tensed, breath hitching and wearily gazing back, waiting for it to make a move.

In the corner of my eye, Haruka had finally died down with her cries, instead staring at the other Stand with wide green eyes.

And then its lips parted, and unintelligible, but refined sounding Italian spewed out. I stared, unsure what to do. Italian had been my mother's native language, but she'd never bothered teaching me. I hadn't seen the usefulness of it either at the time, but looking back now, dang I'd been an idiot.

G.E.'s brow seemed to furrow, and then Japanese came forth. I tilted my head, expression twisting in confusion and my own brows meeting. Wait. Something was off about this.

"Um," I croaked out, still bewildered, "you might wanna try English next?"

He let out a short sigh, then heavily accented English made its way to my ears. "I apologize. I was unsure as to what language you spoke."

A nervous chuckle escaped me. "Well, not everybody's trilingual. It's a valid mistake."

A slight smile graced G.E.'s face. "I suppose. You are Haruka, then?"

I shrugged, my shoulders losing some tension, but not fool enough to completely let my guard down. Clearly he knew who I was, or at least supposed to be in this life. Which meant he'd been listening in without manifesting for a while.

"I guess in this life. Before, I was Jennifer Nasino." My eyes narrowed, trying to pierce the mask of indifference on his face. "You're Haruno?"

My eyes flicked over to his baby form, who was currently gumming on my younger self's arm, which sent a weird, tingly phantom feeling up mine. Hard to believe the cute little gremlin there could become one of the most terrifying JoJos out there. "Definitely didn't peg you as the polite type."

"I generally prefer to be, though it hasn't seen much use as of late." The golden Stand's gaze seemed to move towards his own baby self. "'Haruno' was once my name, but I've gone by Giorno Giovanna since."

So. It was him. That explained the adult Stand.

A beat passed between us, each staring and seemingly daring the other to ask the inevitable question: 'How are you here?'

I rolled my eyes and took the dive, turning away so he couldn't see the emotions roiling up to the surface. "I died, alright?"

The blazing feeling of eyes burning into my back was ignored. "It was in the wussiest way possible, too. I was at home, just doing stuff, when I had a stroke or something and keeled over." A bitter laugh welled up inside me. "Stupid, right?"

But it had been terrifying in reality. Your body just deciding to stop working one moment, and then you were gone just like that. I was gone just like that. My hands were trembling, eyes squinted shut with a surge of repressed grief that had finally come after so long.

After so long with no one to talk to, with me furiously trying to find something else to occupy my attention so I wouldn't break down like a sissy, like I'd nearly done at the beginning of this whole mess. It took all my flimsy concentration to make sure my whirlwind of emotions wouldn't bleed over into Haruka, and even then I could hear her begin to sniffle.

I blinked my eyes open again, only to realize everything was blurry. Was I crying? Could Stands cry? The thought was abruptly cut off with a hand touching my shoulder, startling me to look back at the only other Stand.

Giorno abruptly curled his arms around my torso, mumbling, "Mi dispiace, so sorry."

And then I simply shattered, a wail wrenching from my chest and tears flowing. This was all so messed up. A dead woman cradled in the arms of a time traveling anime mafia boss, who also happened to be my brother now. And that was only the cherry on top of the sundae, what with a century old stripper vampire who had stolen his adoptive brother's body as our progenitor.

A teary giggle escaped me at the thought. Bloody Bodystealer McBlondie, aka Dio. Which made me...Dio's daughter. My face twisted. No. Not Dio, Johnathan Joestar was the real father here.

But enough of that. I was feeling drowsy now, warm in the embrace of my brother and, looking over at the twins, Haruka and Haruno were too. A smile twisted my lips at the last words Giorno muttered to me before I drifted off.

"Goodnight, sister."