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By the time the old man finally gets him to the fucking airport, Polnareff and Avdol have been standing around long enough for Polnareff to be pissed that Avdol keeps winning I-Spy. Jotaro doesn’t hesitate in brushing past.
“Slow down!” Gramps yells. “They’ll wait! You’re the only passenger!”
“I’m going to be late,” and then, cause he’s pissed, “for your kid situation.”
There’s a pause, then a huffed: “I drive defensively .”
“Wanna know why I’m pissed?”
“Jean-Pierre…” Avdol warns.
“You’re missing the tenth Fuck Dio-versary!” He shoves his gaping expression in Jotaro’s way.
“I was there for the fifth one.”
“But ten years, Jotaro!” He pouts. “A decade! That’s special! ”
Jotaro pointedly watches for gate B-20. What the fuck is an SPW jet doing at a public airport, anyway? B-4… B-8…
Avdol matches pace.
“Kakyoin insisted he should see you off,” he starts.
“It’s fine,” Jotaro finishes. Nori’s master’s thesis is due this week. “He’s busy.”
Polnareff and Avdol are jerked back by hands on their shoulders, and a tantrum of whispering follows. Jotaro holds in a groan. B-16… B-18…
B-19…
There shouldn’t be anyone at gate B-20. Jotaro’s supposed to be the only passenger. But a figure stands against the window at the gate. The sun at their back hides them in shadows, but Jotaro slows -- to a walk… a crawl.
Does he know that silhouette?
Wait. No, that better not… His thesis is almost due. If he had an ounce of brain-
“Jotaro?” a grin paws Avdol’s tone.
“Hey!” The figure startles at Polnareff’s shout. “Get off your Gameboy, shithead, and come surprise your fiancé!”
Nori catches Jotaro’s gaze, and a grin, visible across the platform, breaks out. He pushes off the window and makes his way over, crutches clicking in time with his strut.
“Surprised?” The fucker’s almost laughing. “I can hardly tell.” He leans. “You almost made him late.”
There’s yelling, but above that Jotaro manages: “You’re submitting your thesis this week.” Because if Nori honestly-
“Correction: I’m submitting my thesis tomorrow. ” Nori produces a well-wrapped box with a flourish and pairs the dark bags under his eyes with a smirk, and Jotaro’s this close. “But it’s worth it to see the look on your face today.”
Nori shoves the gift at Jotaro.
「You should be in California.」
“Hey!” Polnareff roars. “No Japanese!”
「I wanted to be here.] His voice softens in Japanese. It always does.
「You’re busy-」
“I planned this, and you ingrateful-!”
Metal-handed smacks are fucking loud .
「Aren’t you forgetting who’s the honor student here?」
「Noria-」
「Just take the fucking present, Jojo.」
「I-」Nori raises an eyebrow. God fucking damn it.「You were… missed.」Jotaro finally takes the box. There’s a note on top.「What is this?」
“Happy early tenth anniversary.” Nori points.
“ Surprise! ” Polnareff cheers, brandishing another gift. He stacks it. “P.s. I expect equally cool shit from Morioh.” He leans. “And it’s Dio - versary.”
There’s “I’ll trade you two vertebrae for the power to name shit after Dio” bickering. Gramps adds two boxes.
“Not so worried about being late now , huh?” He asks, smirking.
“I-”
Avdol turns Jotaro and guides him forward. “You should hurry, though. I doubt they’ll wait forever, and for my hearing’s sake, please wave back during take-off.”
The pilots may not think twice about Jotaro boarding with four presents, but he’s fucking reeling.
He doesn’t wave during take-off. He tips his hat. It’s enough.
Nori’s note reads:
Jojo,
You’d never open these near witnesses, so I could write how much you mean to me, how proud I am, and how it feels to still be in your life all these years later, but I think both of us would rather die than know a letter like that exists.
Jotaro smiles.
During one of your summer semesters in America, I went to Okinawa. It was beautiful, but I feel like I missed out on a lot. It was nice, though. Plus… (cont. inside)
“I know you read a lot about planes,” Kakyoin says as they re-enter the main lobby of the Aeronautical Sciences museum, “but you really do retain a surprising amount of it, Jotaro.”
“It was all on the signs.”
“Um, correction: it was stuff the signs didn’t have space for. Well, for the first ten or so, at least. I stopped reading about halfway through to focus on your explanations.”
Only the nearest tiles are visible from under Jotaro’s hat brim at this point.
“Now, can I buy you a souvenir like a good boyfriend?” Kakyoin leans into view. “Or is this gonna be another long ordeal?”
“I don’t want anything.”
Kakyoin’s smile stretches, and he straightens. Before Jotaro can stop him, he bullshits the most pointed heel-turn with his crutches possible -- being someone with no coordination -- and beelines for the shop.
God fucking damn it.
Jotaro mutters obscenities, rushing after.
Inside is a pin of two dolphins: rostrums and flukes touching in a heart shape. OKINAWA CHURAUMI AQUARIUM! is printed on the back.
...I could finally get you something without a fight! I hope your youncle (young uncle. Ba dum tss) situation runs smoothly. Remember: he’s a kid; play nice. And be safe, alright? I’d like for us to make it to death do us part, if for nothing else than all of the deposits your wonderful mother’s spent on our ceremony. Call me if you need back-up. -Nori
Dear Jotaro,
Avdol’s handwriting is immaculate.
When I learned we were getting gifts for this “Dioversary”, I’ll admit I was stumped. Luckily, while on a trip through India, I happened upon these. The design reminded me of the time around when I lost a new pendant (though I’m not sure I told you about that), where we were having a discussion on the symbolism of ankhs, and you made a pronunciation error that sounded like wordplay of our conversation. I knew it was not intentional (this IS you we’re talking about), and I did not mean to be rude whatsoever, but I… had a difficult time withholding my laughter.
Once I saw these, I could not resist.
They’d long since abandoned their books (and Polnareff’s already fucked off to God knows where) when the topic of Avdol’s pendant and the meaning of ankhs in general comes up. Jotaro’s inspecting the gold ankh pendant, finger tracing its shape while Avdol talks.
He realizes he hasn’t been fucking listening, so he focuses back in.
“and its close association with deities, especially ones that personify the primeval waters, link it to eternal life, fertility, dirt, and the sun, to name a few. Some will argue, as I once did, that it’s linked to femininity, but that’s debatable.”
Jotaro grunts.
“Makes sense.” He rubs his thumb idly over the loop. “Especially the waters thing. They’ve always reminded me of…”
Shit.
What’s the fucking word in English.
It’s like… “ankhors” please let that be right “but I’d never seen it in any of my-”.
He stops when he sees Avdol’s face. Jotaro raises an eyebrow at his scrunched expression. Avdol hides behind his book.
“F-” a throat clearing. He reappears. “I’m fine. My apologies. Yes, I suppose it does resemble a traditional an-” he covers a cough and leaves his fist in front of his mouth. “A traditional ankhor .”
Jotaro narrows his eyes.
“ JOTARO! ” A too fucking loud boom right by his ear startles him. Avdol flinches. Damn it, Polnareff. “ Look what I found! ”
He holds up a large square. The BADDEST by Toshinobu Kubota. Oh. Not a square then. A record.
“How cool is this?” Polnareff hands it to him. “You just told me about him the other day!”
“Who?” Avdol asks.
“Toshinobu Kubota!” Polnareff mispronounces. “Jotaro’s favorite musician! He sings,” he clears his throat and winks at Jotaro. Jotaro grimaces. “ Not love songs. They’re power ballads. ”
“Did you really say that?” Avdol says, hopefully laughing at Polnareff’s Jotaro impression.
“ Yes! ” Polnareff cackles. “Isn’t that the most 80’s thing you’ve ever heard? ”
“It’s… nostalgic, yes. To be fair, power ballads do sound more like Jotaro’s genre than love songs.”
“Yeah, true.” Polnareff snickers. Oh God, here it comes. Jotaro scowls. “He does have a total eclipse of the heart.”
Jotaro stands, shoulders hiking at the deafening laugh track. He makes a break from them, chased by a croon of “You can run with one hand in your pocket , Jotaro, but I’m never gonna give you up! ” and Avdol’s surprised snort.
He realizes later: he forgot to give Avdol the pendant back.
Shit. He still has that, doesn’t he?
The note on top of the white clothing inside reads:
Every captain needs a cap and coat. It’s been a wonderful ten years, my friend. “Ankhors” aweigh to ten more.
Sincerely,
And then his signature. First in Arabic, then a translation under for Jotaro’s sake. The show-off.
Polnareff’s card, in familiar, immaculate handwriting:
FIRSTLY [sic], you ALL know my written English sucks, so if you want to see my beautiful handwriting, you’re fresh out of luck. Second, call me when you get this, so I can gush about the sappy emotions I would have written for you but CAN’T because, again, English SUCKS. Third, I was trying to make a joke by finding the most 80’s thing I could, but I fell in genuine love the moment I laid eyes on this beauty.
There’s a number Jotaro won’t dial. Polnareff’s an asshole who only ever wants to hear him hang up.
Jotaro brings the sodas back.
“So, Mr. Power Ballad, if we didn’t start the fire, who-?”
Polnareff breaks into giggles. The door splinters when Jotaro slams it, and Polnareff laughs so hard, he cries.
He likes the giant gold triangle pin more than he probably should.
Treat her well, Jotaro. She’s an uptown girl.
Dictated. Not read. Fuck English.
Polnareff
YOU PROBABLY FORGET THIS OLD MAN’S RAMBLINGS AS SOON AS HE’S OUT OF EARSHOT, AND I KNOW YOU’RE NOT MY BIGGEST FAN RIGHT NOW, SO I’LL KEEP IT SHORT. WHEN POLNAREFF SAID TO SURPRISE YOU WITH AN EARLY GIFT, I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF THIS. IT’S AN OLD PRESENT, BUT I THINK HE’D BE OVERJOYED IF YOU HAD IT.
HAPPY 10 YEARS, PUNK. GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR DISSERTATION. THE NOTE INSIDE’S SORTA FROM BOTH OF US NOW.
-JOSEPH
Gramps has stopped following his unofficial tour around campus.
“Oi, Old Man,” Jotaro gestures with his head. “Come on.”
He doesn’t listen, apparently too fucking busy staring at a building Jotaro barely recognizes. The peeling paint on the sign calls it the RE S Depar t o Petro eum Engin eri g.
“He was a friend of mine,” he gestures at the sign when Jotaro’s close enough. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“He knew your great-great-grandfather, y’know. Used to tell me all these stories about him. I ever tell you about who made sure me and your great-great-grandmother Erina were set after my dad died and my mom became a fugitive?”
The words nearly spill out faster than Jotaro can process them.
“It was him. We didn’t need money, but.”
He sighs out his nose.
“He was always there for Grannie Erina. And he’d drop everything if we asked. Built the SPW from the ground up to help our family. Even now, long after…”
Jotaro finds silence blissful. It fits too-tightly around Joseph. A binder after a growth spurt. Just like then, Jotaro feels like too deep a breath will break something.
And when Joseph says: “I know I wasn’t there for you and Ho- Seiko in the beginning, but it’s… I’m only a couple hours away from here. If you need anything.” It sounds worlds away from the blistering sidewalk in front of the REOS Department of Petroleum Engineering.
“We already saw your buildings, right?” Gramps turns. “Let’s finish this later. I’m starving.”
Jotaro lets the old man walk ahead a bit. He makes a note to buy paint as he takes one last, lingering look at the building.
They slow once. Outside Jotaro’s lab.
In that same, faraway voice: “I wish he could’ve met you, Jotaro.”
Inside is an intricately engraved capital “J” and a gift tag, yellowed with time.
And this one’s for your promotion! I’m proud of you, JoJo! -Speedwagon
The pilots may do double takes when he disembarks in different clothes, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck. 7 cards and 1 gift tag rest safely in the white pocket of his new coat. He fidgets with them and walks towards his cab.