What Would You Say?

Yoshifumi paces back and forth through Grey Street. As per usual, he can't remember what he's outside at night for. It's something he's just started doing now. The sidewalks and alleyways and cornerstores and the everything of Grey Street reeks of something to Yoshifumi - something he's grown to be well aware of as of late.

Stand energy. It makes something inside of him sink. As much as Yoshifumi would like to believe that it's 'just a Grey Street thing', it's really everywhere and something that's completely unavoidable to someone like him - a Stand user.

The pitter-patter of Yoshifumi's black combat boots against the grey sidewalk echo through the silent road. A car glides by, the light emanating from its unnaturally bright headlights illuminating Yoshifumi, forcing an annoyed grunt from him as the light singes his eyes. He freezes in place before shielding his eyes from the headlights with his palm. "Yes, please blind me," he sarcastically requests.

..Crunch.

The crunch of stone shoots through the air like a gunshot, the noise coming from an unnervingly dark alleyway to Yoshifumi's left. His gaze shoots towards the alleyway, his teeth clenching on his bottom lip. His heart sinks to his stomach, his nails digging into his palms as his hands curl into fists.

Again. Crrrunch.

A short figure dressed in what seems to be all black approaches Yoshifumi, something vaguely knife-shaped held tightly in their grasp. It's fairly difficult to tell what color the figure is wearing - It's pitch black out. The figure slowly raises their knife towards Yoshifumi, silently threatening him by.. Jabbing the knife in his direction.

Yoshifumi blinks in pure shock, his heart rising back to its usual place. He holds back a laugh. "Are you kidding me?"

The figure freezes mid-jab, clearly taken aback. "I have a knife. Give me your money." The figure's voice is deep and raspy, sounding like that of someone who smokes a factory's worth a day. "Or else," he adds, as if 'I have a knife' wasn't good enough of a threat.

Yoshifumi's lips clasp together as he begins to physically shake with laughter. "Is- Is this your first day? Do you need tips? Is this a side hustle?" Yoshifumi trails off with many more questions.

None of them end up being answered, as in a moment of desperation, the figure charges towards Yoshifumi, knife pointed towards his midsection. For a moment, Yoshifumi freezes up, time slowing to a halt. His heart sinks again, a feeling he despises. He's felt it too many times.

"Shhiiii~iiinn!"

A ghostly white arm materializes to the right of Yoshifumi, a flash of light soon following. The arm clenches its fist, its black veins expanding as it prepares itself to deliver the meatiest backhand known to mankind. All of this is completely invisible and inaudible to the poor mugger, who is still charging towards Yoshifumi, who begins to step towards the mugger, shaking them up a bit.

Wham. The arm shoots forward, its knuckles making contact with the mugger's cheek within a fraction of a second. A horrifying sound between a gunshot and the snap of bones shoots through the air, the mugger on their ass in an instant. Their mouth hangs wide open, the headlights of a passing car illuminating them. Yoshifumi is too busy laughing and coughing up his lungs to look for defining features - or even look in general. His palm covers his eyes, a deep rumble rising in his chest. "Dude, you flew a solid two yards from that."

"Wuhhh.." The mugger quivers in fear before hotfooting away from Yoshifumi, their knife clanking to the floor with a plasticy noise. Yoshifumi raises an eyebrow, stepping and leaning down towards the knife to confirm his suspicion - The mugger wasn't even using a real knife.

It was a plastic butter knife from McDonald's.