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Kujo Tsuma knows very little about her husband. She knows enough not to get in way of their relationship, or her feelings, of course. She knows his habits and quirks. She knows his family. She knows his likes and dislikes. She knows he loves Jolyne above all else, with only one exception.
And she has no idea who that exception is.
That’s what she means when she says she doesn’t know her husband. She knows his habits and quirks, yet she does not know how they came to be. She knows his family, yet she can’t put a finger on the bond he shares with them. She knows his likes and dislikes, she has not seen them develop. She knows he loves Jolyne above all else, with only one exception.
She knows the exception exists. It’s in his eyes when he looks at her red earrings. It’s on his mouth when he smiles at Jolyne’s doodles. It’s in his voice when he talks Japanese with his grandfather. It’s in his soul when he puts down his burden—yet another thing she knows almost nothing about—and lets himself just be.
The memories of someone loved dearly. Dearly, desperately, fervently. Eternally.
Yet, Tsuma has no idea who that person is. And, out of everything she doesn’t know about her husband, that’s what drives her crazy the most.
Because it’s supposed to be her.
But it isn’t.
And she knows.
She loves Jotaro Kujo so much it hurts. Even more when she remembers she’ll never have that love returned.
Jotaro loves her, truly, he does. His grandfather told her that’s a Joestar thing; to have enough love to share, a heart big enough for people they find important. Also, Jotaro is not the type to just marry anyone. He married her because he truly feels something for her.
However, it is not what she wants.
At the very least, she wants to know who’s the one who stole her husband’s heart.
That’s exactly what she’s after when she asks one Joseph Joestar about the trip to Egypt. The whole family knows about it, the trip to get the cure for Holly’s, her mother-in-law, sudden sickness. Tsuma knows there’s more to it than she has been told, part of the bond the family share she’ll never fully understand. She also knows that mysterious person is part of it. They have to be, otherwise Jotaro wouldn’t get this distant yet reverent look in his eyes, and Joseph wouldn’t show that odd cheerless smile, and Holly wouldn’t deflate with sadness.
So Tsuma asks about it. Joseph’s stare is even more unnerving than usual once the last word passes through her lips. Instead of looking through her like the senile elder he is supposed to be, he stares at her like every thought of hers is tattooed on her skin, eyes burning with fiery sanity. She vaguely remembers Jotaro saying Joseph Joestar had been a force to be reckoned, and that the old man is still not one you should underestimate.
“His name was Kakyoin.”
“Pardon?”
“Jotaro and I… We traveled with other people. Muhammad Avdol, a fortune teller; Jean Pierre Polnareff, a joyful frenchman; Iggy, a feisty dog…” His eyes lock with hers. Old, wise, knowing. “And Kakyoin Noriaki, Jotaro’s first and best friend.”
“What happened to them?”
Tsuma doesn’t know any Kakyoin Noriaki. If Jotaro is so close to him still, she figures she’d met him already. Joseph’s eyes don’t like, though.
“Polnareff must be chasing some skirts back in France.” He chuckles. Old, tired, knowing . “Avdol, Iggy and Kakyoin… Died by the hands of one cruel man.”
Something punches Tsuma right in the guts. Or, at least, that’s how she feels.
“Kakyoin was a good boy. Good for our JoJo. The type of polite asshole you can’t help but like. He was the first person I’ve seen Jotaro be completely comfortable around after Holly. Together they were invincible, a pair made in Hell: An emotionally stunted delinquent and a smug bastard of a honors student.” He takes something out of a pocket. A photograph. Old, wrinkled, beloved. “Here, take a look at this idiots. I think Polnareff was the one who took it at one of the low budget hotels we stayed?”
What greets her once her eyes lay on the picture is the face of her husband. When he was a teenager. He definitely looks young. Young and not exactly carefree, but lighter, somehow. He’s sitting on an old, beaten couch, eyes soft, mouth quirked in an endeared smile that nowadays belongs to Jolyne. He’s looking at a redhead teenager who’s sitting so close on cans say they were cuddling.
Kakyoin Noriaki.
It has to be.
Kakyoin Noriaki.
Tsuma Kujo takes a long look at the teen.
His hair was a rich cherry red, kept short except for a long and curly bang. His eyes were of a deep purple, gazing adoringly at Jotaro. Thin lips elegantly curled in a pleased smile. Impeccable, posture even though he was clearly relaxed by Jotaro’s presence. Dark green clothes contrasting with his light skin. Earrings resembling cherries dangled from his ears.
Kakyoin Noriaki had been very good looking. He would’ve been a very handsome man.
Kakyoin Noriaki had loved Jotaro just as vehemently. And he probably still would had he survived.
Joseph is still talking about Kakyoin but Tsuma cannot pay attention. Her mind is racing. Because now that she knows who holds the heart that loves her, she understands Jotaro is just as helpless as her. Maybe even more, as he’ll never have a fraction of his most beloved’s feelings like she has. He’ll never see the affection in purple eyes, never get another chance to run his fingers through that red hair, never be able to touch that marble skin. Jotaro will never be able to experience Kakyoin’s smile in this life.
“They… were they…?” She can’t finish her question, but the sharp mind of Joseph Joestar still serves him well.
“Oh, no. Jotaro… They never confessed, no. You can say it’s a Joestar thing too…”
And in his eyes flash the same wishful feeling she catched in her husband’s eyes from time to time. Innermost love for the one carrying their hearts and souls in the afterlife, perhaps waiting for a next chance in a next life.
Tsuma Kujo knows just enough about her husband. She knows his habits and quirks. She knows his family. She knows his likes and dislikes. She knows he loves Jolyne above all else, with only one exception.
She knows she’s not that exception.
For that place will forever be another’s.
Kakyoin Noriaki.