Chapter Text
Kujo Jotaro has spent all seventeen years of his life fighting, and he has never caught a damn break. Why would he? Those just aren’t the cards life dealt him. Instead of doing well in class, he barely glides by. The only reason he passed his high school english classes is because his mother is American and so he spoke english every time they visited her family when he was growing up. His grandmother tried to teach him some Italian but it’s been proven that he’s absolute garbage at languages. Besides, what use does he have of that anyways? He lives in Japan, for fuck’s sake. And fights? He’s been in so many fights. It’s a miracle he’s gotten as far as he has in school without being sent to an alternative school. So what if he puts his fist before his mouth, sometimes people have lessons they need to be taught. And if shit needs to get done? He’s the one doing it. Like hell he’d let someone else do that job for him, he’s not some wimp. The type of people who never fight for themselves… those people get on his nerves the most. That’s why this fight with Dio bothers him so much, other people’s lives are on the line. Sure, the old man is trying to save his daughter, but the others? Why should they die?
How the hell is this their fight?
Now that Dio’s defeated and he still doesn’t know the exact cost, he thinks even more about how this isn’t their fucking fight. It’s his family drama, and now Abdul is missing in some fucking void, or some other stand bullshit Jotaro still doesn’t understand despite Polnareff trying his best to explain it. As for Polnareff and Iggy? He has no fucking CLUE if they’ll pull through or not, it seemed iggy had perished, and god knows how Polnareff is faring after how injured he’d been. And Jiji got stabbed so bad that it’s probably fatal. Sure, it’s his bloodline too, but still, the old man shouldn’t have had to fight. And Kakyoin… Should Jotaro feel guilty that he barely checked on his own grandfather before bolting in the direction of someone he’s barely known for over a month?
Exhaustion makes his bones feel like they’re made of metal, weighing him down as he reaches a water tower with a friend-sized hole in it. That can’t be good. From what little he understood of the attack, Kakyoin was punched clean through just over… was it… he glances down at his watch. A minute or less ago. That can’t be. The entirety of what was possibly the worst fight of his life took place in under a minute?
He thinks the only thing keeping him going is fear, and probably worry. He’s so tired but the thought of why Kakyoin hasn’t come back down himself just yet is making his stomach turn.
Maybe that fear is why his arms feel heavier than he’s ever known them to fear, as he starts the climb up to the hole in the water tower. Even Star Platinum shakes a little. He thinks about how much time has passed since anything was last heard from Kakyoin, and, for the first time since the fight against Dio, he decides to test out his new time stopping ability, just to climb faster.
He feels much like a tree that some poor bastard has been whacking away at and now it’s finally ready to fall. He knows the fear of losing Noriaki, one of his only true friends, is what keeps him climbing. Every inch of progress he makes, another memory makes his eyes burn. If he doesn’t see that godforsaken grin again… he keeps climbing.
Even Star Platinum seems tired as he helps Jotaro up to find what cannot possibly be good news based on the weight at the pit of his stomach. From up on the side of this tower he can see the first of the Speedwagon Foundation cars approaching whatever’s left of Avdol and Iggy. He hopes whatever bullshit science they do there can save those two. Sometimes the speedwagon foundation is working godlike magic, and he has no idea how they do what they do aside from vague memories of stories jiji would tell him about the man who started it. He prays they have some miraculous cure-all for whatever in the hell is wrong with the others, they don’t deserve to die like this.
They all knew the risks, but every battle they faced (when Jotaro could help it), he tried dealing with it all his own. Just as things always have been, it’s his job to save everyone. He’s the only one who can. He shouldn’t have had to rely on them to finish this for him, and he tried not to. Even when he feared he or someone else would die if he didn’t get help, he tried so hard to be strong enough to carry all of their weights. He doesn’t think the others are weak, or incapable of handling themselves, he just knows it always comes down to him. He’s always the one who has to fix things. He’s tired of being the one who’s the heaviest hitter, the one who has to finish things.
After this, he’s going to finish high school and then take a goddamn break. Images of him and the others finally getting to enjoy travels instead of having to rush through places without seeing anything scroll through his head, and he thinks of how many times he noticed Kakyoin fiddle with the notebooks he keeps in his pockets before deciding he doesn't have the time. He’s seen the sketchbooks, and honestly Kakyoin has gotten so much better at art than at the start of the journey. Sometimes he’d challenge Jotaro to get Star Platinum to sketch something out like he did with the fly all those days ago, and he’d try to draw as realistically. Watching Kakyoin draw is something he isn’t quite sure how to describe, he just doesn’t know any words good enough. He never knows any words good enough to describe that red and green disaster, he doesn’t know if he ever will. His cheeks feel wet but he refuses to acknowledge it until after he’s climbed this tower. Although, one thought rattles around the loudest in his mind.
The battle is won now, he can only hope the price wasn't too steep.
The gentle breeze in the air chills him, and he tries to climb faster before all of the energy left in him drains out. He was so much warmer during the fight, anger making his body so red-hot that he didn’t feel how cold the evening had become. But now he’s so cold he thinks his bones might need a breather from rattling so damn hard. The night air is so cold now it reminds him of daggers, and that in turn reminds him of the old man. He risks a glance back and from this high up he thinks he might be able to see Speedwagon members trying to wheel him away to some form of help, but he doesn’t look for too long before turning his attention back to the climb ahead of him. He figures staying focused will keep exhaustion from settling down into his bones before he can get Kakyoin to help.
It feels tempting, though. To take a break, let the worry already threatening to gnaw through his gut take a walk up his spine and through his mind. The only reason he doesn’t is because he knows just how much harder it would be for the speedwagon scientists and doctors to get to Kakyoin if he’s left up here at hell’s door. So he and Star Platinum keep climbing, even as his vision swims, and his hands ache, and he grows more and more terrified of just what he’ll find when he gets up there.
He reaches the Kakyoin-sized hole in the water tower, his knuckles clench a little too hard as he pulls himself up, and the wood creaks and groans as he climbs into the hole. He tries not to let the clenching in his heart stop him as he sees the red tint to the water leaking out of the tower. He winces, having to take a second to still his nerves. He doesn’t look further into the tower just yet, and as he goes to move he nearly blacks out. He feels like an elephant has planted its three or four ton ass firmly on his lungs as he sees just how much red is in this godforsaken water, and acid creeps up his throat as the smell of blood fills his senses.
He swallows it down, accepts these smells as part of his life now. He finally gets the nerve to look up, and the way his feet fall from underneath him, he almost falls back out of the hole. More than just acid rises up his throat, but that too he swallows down. He doesn’t look dead, yet. Thank god. But he’s so gray, so pale. He still sees the smallest hints of color in his cheeks, and with Star’s eyes he can see that, although achingly slow, Kakyoin Noriaki’s chest still rises and falls.
He moves slowly, every time he steps his head swims. He tries to kneel as gently as he can, and when he’s absolutely certain he won't topple over, he tentatively reaches out. Soaked, red tinted strands of hair against his fingertips help him steady himself as he checks Kakyoin’s pulse. It’s faint, and his skin is colder than he’s ever felt it to be. Not that he’s done much feeling, Jotaro tends to prefer keeping his distance, but he’s been aware of such things every time their shoulders brush. His fingers gently sink deeper into the wet mess of red, relieved to find no serious injuries on his head at least. Kakyoin lets out a longer breath, eyes opening so slowly that Jotaro doesn’t notice at first. His thick, dark eyelashes finally quit their previous task of concealing his eyes, and Jotaro is rooted in place.
“I’ll get you out of here.” Warm, purplish eyes stare up at him, and his eyes blur a little seeing how weak Kakyoin’s are.
He receives a cough in response, blood tinting his lips. That sure as hell can’t be good. Jotaro cautiously decides to stop paying such close attention to Kakyoin’s lips, realizing he’d lingered a few seconds too long. One of Kakyoin’s hands slowly reaches towards Jotaro but he grabs it with his other hand, stopping him. Kakyoin’s fingers struggle a little in the loose grasp, and his dark brows knit as he stares up into Jotaro’s eyes.
“Good grief… save your strength, you can smack the shit out of me for not getting here sooner some other time.” The ghost of a smile kisses Kakyoin’s features, and his voice comes out hoarse.
“Jotaro-“
“I said save your strength, dumbass. I already told you you can tell me off later.”
“ Jotaro. ” The forcefulness in Kakyoin’s voice, paired with the fire that briefly comes back to those damned eyes, stops Jotaro’s heart. How the hell can he be this fucked up and still look like he’d fight god himself right then and there? “I don’t have much time left.”
“Don’t.” Jotaro meant it to have as much power as Kakyoin saying his name like that, but it barely comes out as a whisper. He feels as if his voice is caught in a knot in his throat. Just the thought of losing him is a punch to the gut, but talking about it? Maybe Kakyoin was always the stronger one. Maybe Jotaro wants more time to figure that out.
“Tell my parents… I don’t know.” Another cough, another small trace of blood. If Jotaro knew his life would be some dramatic fucking telenovela type shit he would have just stayed in that stupid jail cell all those months ago. Maybe Noriaki wouldn’t be so hurt if he had. The hand within his own is cold and frail, not at all containing the strength and fire he usually carries. “Just tell them something they won’t worry about. They worry about me too much already.”
“You can tell them yourself, you ass. Don’t make me do your work for you. They’re your damn parents.” Kakyoin gives a halfhearted snort, looking up at him with the look of a man knocking on death’s doors. “You will tell them yourself.”
For a moment, Kakyoin goes quiet, his eyes closed. Jotaro almost worries that’s it, before his eyes shift a bit. He’s thinking. Something feels as if it's stabbing at his heart, and he tries his hardest to ignore it in favor of giving Kakyoin all of his attention in case this is it. But he can’t help it, he doesn’t understand why this is hurting more. Should he feel wrong, for rushing to help Kakyoin when the others are just as bad off? Kakyoin turns his head a bit, causing moist strands of reddish hair to brush Jotaro’s palm. Even without Star Platinum’s perfect sight, he can see where Kakyoin’s black roots are starting to show. He wonders why he dyes his hair, if he’ll ever find out. There’s still so much he doesn’t know about Noriaki Kakyoin. There’s still so much he wants to know.
Warm, purple-brown eyes stare up at him. How does he have that color, is it contacts? God, there's still fire there, still life there. Jotaro puts every last willpower into trying to get him to hang on, as if sheer power of will can do such a thing sheerly by willing it to be so. He feels Kakyoin’s fingers struggling in the loose grip again, and all he wants is to hold on to him. They can feel concerned over basically holding each other’s hands later.
“Jotaro… one more thing.” He pushes his hand out of Jotaro’s weak grip, cupping his face to get his attention. Jotaro startles, he feels as if time has slowed, but he knows for a fact he didn’t activate his new ability. His hands only shake a little, but Jotaro still contemplates taking off his jacket to keep Kakyoin warm. Kakyoin wipes at something on his cheek and it’s only then that Jotaro realizes he’s crying. Out of embarrassment, he almost breaks eye contact, but something about the look in Kakyoin’s eyes makes him decide he shouldn’t.
“Don’t be stupid-“ Jotaro nearly laughs, but he can tell Kakyoin has more to say. “If you’re going to blame yourself, don’t. I chose to go on this journey with you, right?” His heart clenches into a fist, as if he could punch the pain out just like Dio punched through the boy in front of him not that long ago. God, what had it been? A minute or two? Well it was a minute or two too long, Jotaro should have gotten here sooner. All he can think about is how much sooner he should have gotten here, how much faster he should have climbed, how-
“Yeah… yeah you did. Look… can’t you just tell me this later?” Jotaro says, trying to quiet his thoughts. Trying not to focus on any of it.
“We don’t have any later. I need to give you something… it… I hope it’s not soaked by this stupid watery shithole.” He slowly reaches into his jacket, wincing. Jotaro stops him. Regardless of how strong Kakyoin still looks, he doesn’t want to risk it.
“Let me.” He slowly, carefully opened the buttons on Kakyoin’s jacket. Kakyoin gives him a look, and he’s uncertain what it means. Sometimes the boy is just too damn unreadable, and it gives Jotaro a headache. Now, of all times, he should be able to understand him. It’s infuriating that he can’t quite yet. “What am I looking for here?”
“Left pocket. Don’t worry, it’s… you won't disturb my… wound.” Kakyoin awkwardly tries to soothe his worries and Jotaro nods, gently searching his left jacket pocket until he finds a small tin box.
“You don’t have to open it now. I… just figure you should be the one to have it.”
“Why? Did you get the others ‘I’m convinced I’m about to kick the bucket’ presents?”
“No… No, I didn’t.”
“Awfully inconsiderate. I bet Polnareff’ll be disappointed.”
Kakyoin gives him a look that he definitely understands, it's one reserved for his worst jokes. He always saves them for him just to see that look. It’s not as fierce as it usually is. Jotaro doesn’t realize he’s still crying until Kakyoin wipes yet another tear from his cheek. Jotaro gently pulls Kakyoin into his arms more, relying on Star Platinum to help him get Kakyoin out of this damned tower. He tries his best not to disturb the gaping hole through his midsection. Kakyoin lets out the smallest noise of surprise at being hoisted up, looking startled. Jotaro realizes a moment too late that maybe he should have asked first. They go quiet for a moment as Jotaro tries to make sure Kakyoin is secure in his grasp and Kakyoin wipes stray tears off of Jotaro’s cheeks.
“You’ll be alright. You lived perfectly fine without me.” Kakyoin says after a moment, his voice slightly muffled from his face resting against Jotaro’s coat. Something about what he says feels untrue to Jotaro. He didn’t live perfectly fine without him. Maybe he did, but maybe he wasn’t all that alive. A boy convinced everyone should be held at arm's length, forced to cope with a boy ready to burn him to the ground with just one look. Did Jotaro somehow know then, when they met, what he’d mean to him? Well, of course, all of his new friends mean so much to him, but... He tries not to think, it just makes shit harder.
“Maybe. Who knows, these could be tears of joy.” Jotaro finally answers, trying to figure out the best footing to get out of the tower without moving Kakyoin around too much. His voice shakes more than he intended it to.
“I hate you, Jotaro Kujo. I just think you should know that.” He coughs again, and Jotaro tries to hold him more gently so he won’t mess up his wounds any more. The way he says he hates him… it’s strange, he believes the fact that he doesn’t.
“Wonderful last words there, Kakyoin. I can’t stand you, either.”
“You’re terrible.” The coughs seem to be more frequent, and Jotaro holds him closer. He feels the tears this time when Kakyoin shifts his head against his shoulder, reddish hair bobbing as he does. In another life, it wouldn’t take such a dire situation to get them so close to each other. Or perhaps that’s just wishful thinking.
“It could be worse, I suppose. I could have died alone.” Kakyoin says after a moment, voice only slightly betraying how he isn’t fully joking.
“You aren’t going to die.” All humor leaves Jotaro in an instant as he hears such a thing be spoken into the stale evening air.
“You’re a terrible liar, Jojo.” He lets out a half assed laugh, those warm eyes tearing up as he looks up at Jotaro. Kakyoin’s voice is getting slowly weaker, and both choose to ignore it. Jotaro would tear his own heart to shreds a thousand times if it meant never seeing this happen, if it meant this never had to happen. They’re taking too long to get down from the tower in Jotaro’s opinion, worry becomes the most prevalent thing driving him. He summons Star and begins to attempt to climb out of there with Star’s help.
“Just talk about how shitty I am again.”
“Wow, really? You’ll let me?”
“Anything you want to say, just say it.”
“Not trying to distract me, are you?”
“Absolutely. Now talk.” Kakyoin looks away for a moment, a strange look in his eyes.
“God, talking is hard.”
“Then don’t talk. Just… Just stay awake, damnit.”
“I’m trying. I just… Jotaro, I feel like there’s not much time. And there’s so much I have to tell you, i-“
“I know. Just… talk about stupid shit. All these emotions are just going to drain you more.” Kakyoin looks paler in the moonlight, and Jotaro hopes it’s just the moonlight. He’s lost a lot of blood.
“Okay. Uh… remember that hotel, the ghost town we were in?”
“Yeah.. Yeah I remember.”
“I signed my name as Tenmei, remember?”
“Sure. Not sure where this is going.” Kakyoin gives a short laugh, and Jotaro doesn’t like how much quieter it is than the other laughs he’s given so far. He tries to descend the tower even steadier.
“It was supposed to be my first name. I guess they liked Noriaki better, but they still wound up making it my middle name.” This time it’s Jotaro’s turn to laugh, but he tries to suppress it so he doesn’t move the other boy too much.
“Really? Must’ve been confusing.” Tenmei . Jotaro likes the sound of it, but it’s written too similar to Noriaki.
“It was. Oh, and that thing with the cherries?” Jotaro’s mind is filled with his friend’s ‘rerorero’ ing and he almost winces.
“Yes... that.”
“That kid that travelled with us, Anne? She told me what that doppelgänger did and I practiced it so I could do it. Just to fuck with you.”
“I hate you so much. So fucking much.” Kakyoin laughs again, even weaker than the last. As if sensing Jotaro’s pain, Star platinum tries to get them down faster. Jotaro tries not to think about the fact that he hasn’t seen Hierophant yet. Maybe Kakyoin just doesn’t want that green noodle floating around in the way. He knows that likely isn’t the case, but…
“That baby we met that I hated really did have a stand, I know none of you believed me, but he did. I made him eat his own shit so he would leave us alone.”
“Wait… that’s why the kid wouldn’t eat his damn food?”
“Yep.” He glances down at Kakyoin, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. They both laugh, but this time Kakyoin coughs.
“Fuck… I can’t even laugh now, Jojo. I’ll have to get a job as a mime. Or maybe a politician.”
“I still can’t believe you were almost named Tenmei. You know, it almost suits you.” Kakyoin pauses, and when Jotaro glances down at him he regrets that it took all of this for him to see a look this soft in his eyes.
“You can call me that if you want.”
“I can?”
“Sure. I like how you say it.”
“Alright.” Jotaro nods, not liking how quiet Kakyoin has become. It’s like his injury is taking his very voice from him, and Jotaro knows he’d hate that. Being quiet, going along with what others want… Maybe that’s why he dyes his hair, maybe it’s a form of protest. He knows from all the late night talks after Kakyoin wakes from some shitty nightmare just how much he hates authority, only more fuelled now after whatever horrors he won’t speak of from his time as Dio’s servant. “I suppose it’s only fair since you keep calling me ‘Jojo’ of all things. I still don’t know how you found out about that damn nickname.”
“Mr. Joestar mentioned it when telling a story about you as a kid. I suppose I just liked it.” Kakyoin pauses, fingers fiddling with the chain hanging from Jotaro’s collar. “Hey, Jotaro?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really mind it? The nickname?”
“No… no, call me whatever you want.”
“Mm…” He feels Kakyoin’s face push against his shoulder, and he feels Kakyoin take a deep breath. “If I die, make sure it’s my mom that dresses me for the funeral. I don’t like my dad’s sense of style.”
“Alright. If… if you die, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” He hears the spirit of a laugh in Kakyoin’s voice. Jotaro feels fingertips trace his cheek and when he glances down, Kakyoin’s gaze is weak but it’s so very tender. He looks away for reasons that have nothing to do with the lump in his throat, he’s just trying to make sure Star is climbing correctly. At least, that’s what he tells himself.
“I’ll miss you.” He glances down at Kakyoin again, and he hates how even surprise is starting to look weak in those eyes. He doesn’t like how soft the fire in them is getting.
“I’ll miss you, too.” Kakyoin struggles with the words, as if those aren’t the exact words he means to say. Jotaro knows the feeling. They go quiet for a while as Jotaro focuses on getting them down.
“Hey… we’re almost there, alright?” He doesn’t get an answer. The fear seizes him so fast that Star almost loses his grip on the tower.
“Kakyoin??” He glances down, and Kakyoin’s eyes are closed. He barely notices his vision blurring.
“Noriaki??” Shit… this is bad. He thinks of all the shit he should have said. Of course he’d miss him but that… that wasn’t enough. He had so many questions, so many things he needed to tell him.
“Tenmei??” The name feels foreign yet somehow right, and he hates that it seems he won’t have a chance to get used to it. A name only he got to call him, just like how few people Jotaro would let call him ‘Jojo.’ He wishes to hear Noriaki call him that again, he prays he will. He prays to any god out there, knowing they have never once listened to him but just this once can one of them save him. There’s so many other dumb nicknames he thought of that he never had the balls to test out, so many stupid thoughts he never got to voice. And he only had the nerve to use this new name just in case it would be what wakes him.
“Fuck, just answer me... please.” Nothing. He looks away, focusing on getting them down. When his feet are finally on the ground, he rushes to where the Speedwagon medics are, gently setting Kakyoin down on one of their empty gurneys. It’s the second time he uses the time stop after the fight, it isn't even a conscious decision. The desperation to get Kakyoin to help just manifests itself as The World, stopping time for a moment just to get him a few seconds closer.
He tentatively reaches to brush back Kakyoin’s hair, worried about how cold he feels. Everything in him wants to get close again, to hold him. Star’s hands cradle Kakyoin’s face and Jotaro pulls him back before he can check for a pulse. But he’s so terrified that instead of moving closer his feet slowly move away. He feels overwhelmed, like he’s drowning, and he steps back as soon as the medics notice Kakyoin there. He doesn’t stay to hear whether or not he has a heartbeat, scared he already knows the answer. He barely sees the pavement as he moves further and further away. His vision is so damn blurry he knows the only reason he doesn’t fall is that Star is probably holding him up.
It’s weeks later before he finally had the nerve to wash Kakyoin’s blood out of his jacket. He does so slowly, tears blurring his vision every second, as he wishes he had comforted his parents better. His mother was a stranger and yet she gripped him with such strength as he tried his hardest to describe the accident Kakyoin was in, explaining the trip they all went on as some educational trip. It turns out he wasn’t even supposed to transfer to his school, he was only there because of Dio.
It’s months before he opens the tin that Kakyoin gave him to find a few pencils and a sketchbook full of drawings. Jotaro tries not to think about how many are of him. He figures he’ll never get to ask why so why bother wondering. He just admires how much care and effort went into each drawing, and all the little notes written on each page. He’s thankful that the water didn’t enter the tin.
He never wears the jacket again. He can’t. He can’t even look at the damn thing without feeling like the ground is going to swallow him whole. After cleaning it he just folded it up and put it in the back of his closet, deciding to wear the regular uniform when he goes back to school. He tries not to tell anyone how much he hopes every fucking day that he’ll see some new transfer student with brightly dyed red hair and eyes that burn like none he’s ever seen and a grin so terrible that he can just sense trouble coming off of him. It’s better not to get his hopes up, or speak his wishes into the world knowing damn well it won’t happen.
And so, he focuses on graduating. He gets to college, he meets someone there, a woman. She has graphite on the underside of her hand, a sketchbook poking out of her bag. Her eyes burn and her mouth forms a nearly cruel grin, and so he lets himself tempt fate. To his surprise, he falls in love with this strange woman, and her deceptively cruel smile which hides how genuinely kind she is.
It’s not that long after that he finally makes sense of Kakyoin Noriaki in his eyes.