Chapter Text
Kakyoin was usually the reasonable one that took care of himself. Maybe not eating pizza every day wasn’t a big feat to normal people, but living in the Kujo household and sharing a room with Jotaro taught him that his situation said otherwise. The fellow twenty-year-old was only around 8 months older than the redhead, but could smoke a whole pack of cigarettes in just a few hours and could drink half a pack of beer before getting drunk. Did he mention that Jotaro also basically sustained himself on a diet of pizza alone? ‘The only reason you’re that thin and yet still have muscles,’ Kakyoin would laugh, ‘Is because you’re so deprived of normal food. You’re gonna die of nutrient deprivation long before old age at this rate, Jojo!’
Kakyoin, on the other hand, was much more appreciative of Mrs. Holy Kujo’s food. He drank tea, tried to sleep more than 6 hours every night (much more than Jotaro, believe me), and pushed himself to eat junk food sparingly. But sometimes, when he gets really busy with schoolwork and becomes stressed, all of that practically goes down the drain. No, it’s not like he reaches for a smoke every minute, but he doesn’t leave his work desk except for going to the bathroom to take care of his hygiene, resorting to stealing Jotaro’s Pizza Hut leftovers.
At that point, even Jotaro gets worried. Sure, he’s not the most caring of people and often comes off as cold, but he cares about Kakyoin much more than either of them would admit. And when Kakyoin is up until 3 a.m. clacking away at a computer before passing out from sheer exhaustion, Jotaro knows that Kakyoin is serious about his work.
7 a.m. Star Platinum shuts off the alarm clock before it can ring for fear of waking up the sleeping purple eyed-boy. He takes a quick shower, then goes to the kitchen to make himself toast. 7.48. He felt like he was forgetting something.
Leaving the toast to cook on its own, he walked to their shared room, making a conscious effort to step lightly when he reached the sliding door common to many Japanese houses.
There, on his nightstand. He couldn’t believe he almost forgot his cap. He picked it up, fixing it on his head before pulling it down a bit to hide his face in shadow. Turning back around to walk out, his gaze fell on a sleeping Kakyoin, illuminated by the rising sun’s rays as his hair glimmered like crimson blood. Blood. He pushed back the sickening thought of seeing Kakyoin indeed covered in blood, blood everywhere. A bitter taste rose to his mouth, before he made himself forget what he was thinking about (or so he told himself).
‘Yare yare daze.’ Kakyoin needed to take care of himself better, he told himself knowing full well that the raven-haired man took care of himself worse that Kakyoin ever could. He tried ignoring the way his breath hitched as he saw the gentle rays softly illuminating Noriaki’s face, cradling his head and making him look like an angel. Jotaro turned away. Was the tiniest hint of warmth spreading across his face, or was it the sun? He quickly decided the latter, walking out and not letting himself dwell on the topic any longer. The toast had long popped out of the toaster, cool to the touch. Had he really been in the bedroom for that long? He glanced at the clock, eyes widening. Shit. Almost 8 a.m. It was only his first few days of his internship; he couldn’t afford to be late to the marine biology center. Quickly grabbing the roasting and taking a large bite, he stepped outside the large Kujo home and closed the door behind him with a seed of worry planted in his mind.