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Jotaro Kujo did not consider himself an emotional person.
It was admittedly one of his weaker fronts. He couldn’t understand how someone could portray their emotions so openly, (‘wore their heart on their sleeve’ as his mother put it) when a single gesture or twitch could get the point across just as easily. It baffled him beyond belief.
Maybe that’s why emotion made him so uncomfortable, whether it was his own or someone else’s. Because it was unmarked territory - an unpredictable field of landmines ready to explode.
So when Okuyasu Nijimura was proclaimed dead on the morning of July 16th, just a short hour after they'd defeated Kira, Jotaro knew there were going to be a lot of landmines to navigate past.
The shock was instantaneous to the group around him, whereas to Jotaro, he took it in stride. He immediately asked the doctor what the next plan of action was, approximate time of death and how, while Koichi, Rohan, and Kawajiri’s kid behind him reeled from the news.
“His autopsy is being performed as we speak, but so far, everything looks about normal.” The doctor told Jotaro professionally. He looked slightly uneasy telling this to someone not next of kin to the deceased, but being a high-ranking individual in the Speedwagon Foundation, Jotaro had pulled some strings. “If I had to guess, I wouldn’t have thought this was a homicide like the police have told us. It looks like the poor boy died painlessly in his sleep.”
Jotaro nodded. Josuke had tried to heal him then, his mind filled in the gaps. “Thank you, Dr. Yamada.”
After a few more questions and a promise to get in contact with Okuyasu’s father, the doctor left.
“It’s not true, is it?” Koichi was the first to speak as soon as the doors closed. He sniffed, his face already messy and wet. “This is all some sick prank-”
“It’s not.” Kawajiri’s kid spoke up. Large, crocodile tears spilled from his cheeks, eyes bloodshot. “I-I saw it happen. H-he got hit by o-one of K-Kira’s bombs…”
“He’s sixteen…” Rohan muttered, face pale.
“Someone has to tell Josuke, when he gets out of surgery and wakes up.” Jotaro reported evenly.
Kawajiri’s kid hiccupped. “He a-already knows…”
“Good. Then no one has to break the news.” Jotaro replied.
Something tight coiled in Jotaro’s chest at the gaping expressions everyone gave him. “I’ll be outside, sorting everything out with the police.” he said coolly.
He exited the room.
----
It was by complete coincidence when he bumped into Yukako at the hospital.
He’d meant to only stop by for a minute. Just to get an update on Kira’s - Kosaku Kawajiri’s - body and Josuke’s condition. He was just returning from having talked to multiple doctors and experts on both cases, when a girl with long, black hair nearly ran into him.
“O-oh! Mr. Jotaro!” The girl exclaimed, cheeks flushing. “I”m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going!” she held a plastic cup of water nearly topped to the brim in one hand, and a bunch of crumpled paper towels in the other.
“Yukako.” Jotaro greeted politely. She was… Koichi’s girlfriend. Yes.
“Are you here to see Josuke?” she asked curiously.
The word no stuck in his throat like algae; it felt wrong to say that in front of her, especially since she was Josuke’s friend. So instead, Jotaro pulled down his hat.
His eyes trailed again to the paper towels in her hand. “What’s this for?” she couldn’t possibly be planning to use all of those for napkins.
Yukako didn’t mention his sudden change of topic and followed his gaze. “They’re for Koichi. He’s right outside the hospital and I didn’t have any tissues on me…”
Jotaro blinked, puzzled. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Uh… he’s… crying.”
Oh.
They lapsed into silence.
“...About Josuke?” Jotaro tried, pondering the pros and cons of continuing this conversation.
Yukako smiled weakly as she shifted from foot to foot. “I think… about everything actually. A lot of things just happened on the same day, y’know? Like, there was no time to comprehend anything. I think Koichi’s finally wrapping his head around that...”
“Ah, I see.”
Before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling the handkerchief from his breast pocket out and handing it to Yukako. Upon realizing she had no open hands to take it however, Jotaro swiftly exchanged the cup of water for the piece of cloth.
“O-oh, thank you, Mr. Jotaro.” Yukako said, cheeks flushing even more at the dolphin prints that decorated the handkerchief.
Damn. He’d forgotten those were on there.
“Tell Koichi he can keep it.”
Yukako nodded fervently, stuffing it into her pocket without a second glance. He handed back the cup.
“Josuke’s room is 312.” she told him. “It was nice seeing you, Mr. Jotaro.”
Jotaro tipped his hat, and they parted. Yukako hurried out the lobby doors presumably back to Koichi, and Jotaro was left staring at the lobby walls wondering if he’d handled that conversation correctly.
She’d assumed he was going to visit Josuke.
Should he?
He hadn’t originally planned to - he had all the hourly medical reports of the boy’s condition sent to him, printed, and saved - but maybe he should? Jotaro glanced at the elevator, before shoving his hands in his pockets.
He had a lot of work to do back at the hotel. He was expecting a report from the Speedwagon Foundation about a potential Stand arrow inside Kira’s body any day now. Jiji was probably going to fall out of the hotel window or get hit by a car if he was gone any longer. Not to mention, he had to go over Shizuka’s adoption papers with him.
Which was exactly why Jotaro found himself exiting the elevator on the third floor, counting the room numbers along the hallway.
He stopped at room 312, taking a deep breath.
What in the actual hell was he doing here?
Josuke had just lost his best friend. Jotaro remembered how much of a wreck he was after defeating Dio, when all of his friends’ deaths came crashing down on him. He’d wanted to be alone. He’d wanted to process alone.
Jotaro shouldn’t be here.
Soft murmurings filtered from the other side of the door, and Jotaro couldn’t stamp down the curiosity that rose within him. The door was open a tiny crack. He peeked inside.
Thin curtains were half-drawn around the bed. A woman with short blue-black hair was the source of the murmuring, sitting at the hospital bedside. She was running her hands through the hair of the person in the bed - hair that was conspicuously not done up in its regular pompadour.
A sling hung from the ceiling and wrapped around one of Josuke’s legs. The rest of the bandages were hidden under soft blankets.
Jotaro watched as Josuke shuddered - sobbed - his entire frame nearly turned towards his mother despite his injuries. One hand was covering his face, while the other had a vice-grip on his mother’s. Tears glistened on his scrapped cheeks.
Quickly, Jotaro pulled his face from the door and backed away. A couple nurses passing by lingered their eyes on him questionably. He was out of place here. Why had he thought to visit in the first place?
He left without so much as a glance back, the sound of Josuke’s sobs still echoing in his ears.
----
The funeral was a quiet affair.
Jotaro honestly didn’t remember much of it. It was as sad as it sounded; Jotaro didn’t know Okuyasu Nijimura all that well.
Mourning was held at a funeral hall for two consecutive days. After, the body was cremated and buried in a cemetery not far from Morioh. The Speedwagon Foundation paid for everything.
Josuke had not been allowed to come.
Koichi told him all of it. When the hospital had refused to release Josuke - even temporarily - so he could attend the funeral, Josuke had gone ballistic. Koichi feebly described it akin to someone insulting his hair, but somehow worse.
The hospital was pressing charges because of all the damages, and Josuke still didn’t have an inch of remorse. Jotaro made sure to pay for all the damages, slipping the hospital checks secretly.
He also tried to tie as many loose ends as possible in the background.
Okuyasu’s father, for one. The only Nijimura family member left alive, Jotaro made sure to rehome him in a better, memory-free care facility spearheaded by the Speedwagon Foundation, where he would receive proper care and therapy. The Nijimura house was maintained and still kept under his name, however.
Stray Cat was another loose end. At first, Jotaro had no idea what to do with the thing. It was obviously dangerous, and Jotaro briefly considered putting it down. Until Rohan volunteered to take it in. Stray Cat was planted in a new, fresh pot of soil, situated in one of the many rooms of Rohan’s renovated mansion. It seemed overall very happy with its circumstances, and Rohan was happy to have another reference for his manga, so Jotaro left it at that.
When he could, he tried to muddle up to the Kosaku Kawajiri case. The public didn’t need a clear explanation of what happened. Josuke and Kawajiri’s kid gave a vague explanation of the events to the police, and Jotaro used that and his influence to catapult the investigation in a totally different direction.
With all this work, it was no wonder Jotaro kept pushing off the opportunity to visit Josuke. Days stretched into weeks, until Jotaro resolved that he wasn’t going to visit him at all.
----
It was a complete surprise when Tomoko Higashikata called him one night, out of the blue. It’d only been a week since Josuke was released, and Jotaro wondered if she had found out he’d paid for the medical bill and damages and had called to blow his ear off.
“Mr… uh… Jotaro?” Jotaro blinked at how uncertain she sounded.
“Yes.”
“My son… Josuke, he’s… oh to hell with it, I need you to talk to him.”
“Talk to him?”
“He’s not eating, and I know he’s not sleeping because I hear him in the middle of the night - though he doesn’t say anything at all. He always insists that he’s fine. You’re his… friend, right? I thought… since he doesn’t tell me anything anymore… you could talk some sense into him?”
Jotaro sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand and casting a glance at Jiji. The old man was sound asleep on the bed, Shizuka curled up in his arms. It was late, almost ten o’clock.
“I haven’t spoken to him in weeks. Go find someone else to talk to him.”
“No, you don’t understand!” Her voice rose an octave and Jotaro raised an eyebrow over the phone. “I think he wants to see you. Just yesterday, he asked if you’d left Morioh. When I told him you hadn’t, he got this look on his face. I don’t know how to describe it…”
Jotaro didn’t know how to respond to that. Did… Josuke want to see him? Why?
“... so I thought, if he wants to see you, then maybe you’ll also be able to talk to him.”
It was uncomfortable hearing her sound so hurt as she made the request. Knowing her son was suffering, but being unable to help, knowing he was hiding things from her, like he didn’t trust her.
Jotaro sighed again, more tiredly this time.
“Fine. I’ll be there.”
Relief was evident through the line. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” he hung up.
The taxi ride was long and short at the same time. Jotaro spent the entire time lost in the swirl of his thoughts.
What could Josuke possibly want with him? Their goals were mutually met when Kira had died. They were related by blood, yes, but that didn’t mean they were buddy-buddy. There was also the solemn fact that Josuke was still mourning Okuyasu, and Jotaro had graciously given him all the space (too much) he needed.
It was also worrying that Josuke wasn’t taking care of himself. Jotaro didn’t need to be an expert to know that Josuke was probably blaming himself for his best friend’s death. He’d tried to heal him after all, even after he’d died. It only made sense.
Tomoko greeted him at the door. She looked as distraught as she sounded over the phone - hair mussed, dark bags under her eyes, and worry lines marring her youthful face.
“He’s in his room.” she told him.
Jotaro nodded, entering the home.
He still remembered the layout of the house and thus, made it to Josuke’s room without difficulty.
He raised his hand to knock, steeling himself for what was no doubt going to be a struggle of a conversation. His knuckles hit lightly against the polished wood. “Josuke. It’s Jotaro.”
There was shuffling on the other side of the door, before a muted, “come in” was heard.
Jotaro entered.
The room was clean. Books were stacked evenly on the desk in the corner, not an article of clothing on the floor, bed made. A lamp was on where it was placed on the nightstand. Despite the niceness of the room, Jotaro could sense that the atmosphere was lifeless and crushing, invisible weights hanging from the ceiling and causing the air to collapse within itself.
Josuke was sitting backwards in his desk chair in the middle of the room, facing him.
“Long time no see.” his tone was flat. “My mom called you, didn’t she?”
Tomoko’s breath hitched in the hallway, but Jotaro ignored her, opting to close the door behind him.
“Yes.”
“Knew it.”
“She’s worried about you.”
“I know.”
So far, Jotaro disliked this side of Josuke: voice dead, face blank from all emotion. It was unnerving and a far-cry from the carefree, confident high school kid Jotaro had met in the beginning of summer. Even the fluffy pompadour the kid usually was so proud of was unkempt and falling apart.
“If you know, then what are you doing about it?” Jotaro winced at his own words - was that too harsh? Maybe he should try a softer approach. He cleared his throat and started again, “I was told you wanted to see me. What’s wrong, Josuke?”
Josuke barked out a laugh. “Excuse me for saying this, Mr. Jotaro, but I didn’t want to see you at all. Still don’t.”
Jotaro stamped down the indignation that rose at the statement, and also the pressing alarm of realizing he was about to deal with something so out of his depth. “Care to elaborate why you asked for me then?”
“I wanted to know if you were still in Morioh so I could kick your ass. In fact, it’s taking all of my willpower not to lunge at you right now.”
The air fizzled with the familiar buzz of a half-summoned Stand. Jotaro narrowed his eyes, spreading his feet apart just in case. “You think you can stand against me?”
The pun was unintentional, but Josuke laughed anyways. It was hollow. “It’s your fault Okuyasu’s dead. If you’d been there, the battle would’ve been over in an instant. If I can’t avenge my best friend, what good am I?”
“Josuke, you’re not in your right mind right now. You don’t want to attack me.”
Jotaro stopped time before the blow struck. He sidestepped it easily, redirecting the punch so it would hit the desk and not the wall. He couldn’t risk Tomoko getting caught in the crossfire.
Time resumed, and the desk was smashed to pieces.
“You should fix that before your mother comes in. She told me you haven’t been eating or sleeping; you need to take better care of yourself if you want to heal.”
Jotaro stopped time again and flipped the momentum of Crazy Diamond’s action. Time resumed, and the Stand sprawled on the floor.
Josuke shot up from his chair, fists clenched and chest heaving.
“Josuke, sit back down, your leg-”
“Oh, shut it.” Fiery eyes burned into him, like hot-blue infernos. “You pride yourself on your amazing perception, but when it really comes down to it, you didn’t know shit. You didn’t do shit. If you’d been there, Okuyasu would still be alive!”
Coming here was a bad idea, Jotaro thought as he stopped time again. This time, he left Star Platinum to block Crazy Diamond’s punch, instead going over to Josuke to push him down on the bed, heedful of his bandaged leg.
Time resumed.
Josuke fell onto the bed with an oof, a pained expression stretching across his face. Jotaro realized belatedly that he’d forgotten his side was also injured, and frowned.
And continued to when the fire in Josuke’s eyes suddenly burnt out, replaced with an empty coolness that shone in the lamplight.
“Okuyasu would still be alive… if I-” he cried, voice breaking. “He saved me… I fixed him but he still… I couldn’t...”
Jotaro stiffened.
Josuke curled up as much as he could on the bed, shuddering, little whimpers and gasps escaping him. Jotaro stared. Blocking punches, he could deal with, but this?
The room glowed a soft yellow as Crazy Diamond began to repair everything back into place.
“Josuke, I understand-” Jotaro began and Josuke flinched.
“Shut up.” he snapped, face hidden in the shadows.“You don’t understand anything.”
And that was correct. Jotaro didn’t understand a lot of things. People. Emotions. He didn’t understand them at all.
A cut that had been slowly dripping blood closed on Jotaro’s palm - he hadn’t even realized it.
“Leave.”
Jotaro did. He walked out of the room calmly, past a baffled Tomoko in the hallway, through the front door, and all the way back to the taxi he’d paid to wait for him.
“Back.” he said curtly when he got inside. The taxi driver didn’t need to be told twice.
Emotions were like landmines, and when one exploded, the rest of them did too.
----
“Are you sure you don’t want to come back with me?” Jiji asked in his usual gruff voice. His eyes told a different story though, shimmering with worry and suspicion.
Jotaro nodded encouragingly. “Yes. I still have a couple loose ends I need to tie up here. Go back to New York. Grandma Suzie is waiting for you and she’s excited to meet Shizuka.”
As if responding to her name, the baby cooed in the old man’s arms.
Jiji hummed thoughtfully, glancing over at the luxury boat that was waiting to depart. “Well, alright. Can’t keep my wife waiting, after all I’ve done to her.”
“Right.”
“I’ll say hello to Jolyne for you.”
Unconsciously, Jotaro’s face settled into a smile. “Thanks. She goes back to her mother in Florida next week, right?”
“That’s what Suzie said.”
“Then it’s best you give her my goodbye too.”
Jiji’s face crinkled into a frown. “You should really call her, Jotaro.”
“It’s better if she doesn’t get mixed up in what I’m doing.”
“But it wouldn’t hurt to call her every once and a while, hm? Just to let her know you’re still alive and that you love her and she’s more precious than any dolphin in the world.”
Jotaro hmphed and pulled down his hat. “You can do that for me.”
“Jotaro!”
“Stop worrying about my kid and worry about your own kid.”
“Huh? Josuke? I thought he was released from the hospital…?”
“No, Jiji. That’s not what I meant.”
The old man looked genuinely confused for a moment, gears turning in his brain as he worked out the gaps in his memory, before realization filled his face. “Oh. Yes, of course. His friend died.”
Jotaro winced at the wording, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes.”
Jiji gave a thoughtful hum. “No wonder he was so short with me on the phone yesterday. I thought he was just having a bad day.” he shifted Shizuka in his arms. “Is that why you don’t want to leave? Are you worried about him?”
“The fact that you’re not, speaks volumes about you more than me. You’re so eager to leave.”
“I don’t have much of a choice! Suzie will bite my head off if I stay any longer!”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t bitten it off already.”
“Hey! This isn’t about me here! You didn’t answer my question!”
“... Yes.” It was more of a cough than an answer.
Jiji sobered up immediately. “How is he?”
“Not… well.” Jotaro admitted. “I think he blames himself for his best friend’s passing. He’s not taking care of himself like he should be with all the injuries he’s sustained.”
Gray eyebrows furrowed. “Does he have a support system?”
The question caught Jotaro off guard. “Support system?”
“Friends? Family? You?”
“I… don’t know. I haven’t been… around.”
“You’re avoiding him then.”
“Yes- no. I saw him a couple days ago. He got angry at me though.” Attacked me and broke down too.
Jiji mused for a bit more, rocking a sleeping Shizuka in his arms as he did so. “The loss of someone never gets easier. The grief and pain of it may lessen over time, but the hole will never close. The best we can do is support Josuke. By not avoiding him. Giving him space but also letting him know he’s not alone.”
“You make it sound easier than it is.”
Jiji’s eyes flashed and Jotaro rushed to rectify. “He also blames me. For Okuyasu’s death, not just himself. He doesn’t want me around.”
“Are you just telling yourself that?”
“Jiji-”
“Do you blame me? For Kakyoin?”
Jotaro jolted. “What? No!”
“But you admit, I could’ve done something, right? Did you blame me then?”
Irritation flooded Jotaro’s veins and his hands twitched to clench. His grandfather’s eyes bored into him, clear as marine crystals and just as sharp.
“I’ll know if you lie.”
“Yes. I did blame you. For a moment.” Jotaro bit out. He felt like punching something when he admitted it, the burning shame transforming into bitterness and rage.
“Did you still want me around, even when you did blame me?”
“Yes.”
“There’s your answer.”
“That’s not the same! This isn’t the same!”
“Jotaro. What I’m trying to point out to you is that blame is a fickle thing. Josuke is grieving. He’s lost right now, and he needs people to set him straight. People who understand his pain.”
A beat.
“Jotaro.”
“Yes! I get it. Give me a break.”
Jiji still eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not all that’s bothering you, is it?”
“Godamn it, Jiji.” Jotaro swore. “You need to stop being so perceptive or I’m punching those stupid glasses off your face.”
Jiji just smiled at him. “You wouldn’t do that to your dear old grandfather.”
“Try me.”
“I’m willing to take the risk. So? Are you going to spill?”
Jotaro hesitated. “How do you deal with it?”
“Deal with what?”
“Emotions.”
Jiji titled his head. “Well, I’ve dealt with many of them in my time. Is there one you’re referring to in particular?”
“Jiji.”
Jiji’s playful face fell. “Sorry, sorry! Emotions. Well, a good cry never hurt anyone.”
Jotaro blew out a breath. “Never mind. You’re shit at this.”
“Hey, don’t go blowing off your dear old grandfather’s sage advice! Let’s see... well, if this is in your case, I’d say you’re a teensy bit emotionally-constipated, but that’s fine! A good talk will fix that right up. Now in the case of Josuke… well, like I said before, supporting him is all we can do-”
“Talking. Right.”
“Yes! I can lend an ear, if you’d like-”
“I’d rather speak to a brick wall.”
“Aww, Jotaro!”
Jotaro huffed, casting his eyes to the side, at the glimmering water. “You should embark now, Jiji. You’re keeping the captain waiting.”
Jiji didn’t even blink at Jotaro's not-so-subtle way of telling him to leave. “Oh, yes! I forgot I was supposed to be leaving. Shizuka’s probably getting sunburn from being in the sun for so long.”
He cooed over the baby then, much to Jotaro’s annoyance. The old man readied his cane. “Jotaro…”
Jotaro looked up.
“I know how you are. Don’t avoid your problems because you don’t know how to fix them. And hitting them until they croak is never the best solution either.” Jiji’s voice was low. “I know… these types of situations make you uncomfortable.”
Jotaro shoved his hat down.
“But out of everyone, you are the one who most understands Josuke’s pain.”
“... I know. You make it sound so easy, though.”
“Nothing in life is ever easy. But you’ve got a good heart, Jotaro. A heart of gold, like all the young people in this town. Like the ones who followed us into Egypt. I’m sure everything will be fine in the end. Just talk to him.”
Jotaro snorted under his breath but didn’t raise his head, instead raising a hand in farewell. “Land safely, Jiji.”
----
Jotaro didn’t know why it didn’t occur to him to check this place first.
Josuke wasn't at school. He wasn’t at his house either, Tomoko having thought he’d gone to school.
When the thought struck him, Jotaro mentally kicked himself. Of course. This was where he would be.
The cemetery.
Jotaro caught sight of the familiar colors of the school jacket, the wearer sitting cross-legged in front of the Nijimura family grave. Smoke curled in the air from burning incense sticks.
Josuke spoke before Jotaro could even consider that maybe now wasn’t the best time.
“Hey.”
Jotaro tensed subtly, torn between stepping back and remaining still. “Sorry if I’m interrupting.”
“No, it’s fine.” Josuke said. He made no move to get up like Jotaro half-expected him to. Instead, he turned back to the grave.
Jotaro moved to look around the kid’s shoulder and at the little stack of cartons set next to him.
“Ice cream?”
Josuke snorted. “Strawberry and chocolate chip. Oku’s favorite.” He pointed out the others. “Plain chocolate too. Mint for Keicho. And a bouquet for Mrs. Nijimura.”
The bouquet in the vase was an assortment of flowers Jotaro had no hope of naming or knowing the meaning of. But he did notice that they weren’t store-bought, but freshly-cut.
Josuke seemed to read Jotaro’s unvoiced question. “Hayato gave them to me. His mom has a garden.”
“That’s nice of him.”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“I’m sorry.” Josuke began. “For what I did a couple days ago. That was out of line and... I don’t blame you.”
“Hn.”
“It was raining really hard that day. And you saved our asses in the end too… when Kira was going to reset time. Or at least, that’s what I think Hayato was trying to tell me back then. So… yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” Jotaro said, still surprised to even receive an apology. Josuke turned to him, lips parted, and he wondered what else he’d forgotten to say. “I forgive you.” he tacked on finally and rushed into his next point, “And I am sorry as well.”
Josuke waved him off.
“I also came here today,” Jotaro continued, keeping his tone nice and even. “to talk. More specifically, to share my understandment.”
Josuke spluttered, turning around. “Your what?”
Jotaro fought the urge to cringe. “Yes.”
He could hear the blood roaring in his ears and hoped it wasn’t obvious how these types of conversations made him sweat. All the mentally-preparing and practicing for this had turned to dust in his metaphorical hands and were slipping through his fingers.
Damn Jiji and his advice. This was going to go horribly, he could already tell.
Too late now. So Jotaro decided to do what he did best: wing it.
He walked closer to Josuke, and to his surprise, the boy scooted over to make space, a silent invitation to sit. Jotaro took it.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching as the wisps of incense rose in the air.
“He saved you?” Jotaro asked, indicating to the headstone.
Josuke flinched next to him, the neutral atmosphere darkening immediately. “Yes.”
Jotaro nodded, clearing his throat. “I had a friend who saved me too.” Multiple friends. “He died though.”
The horrified expression on Josuke’s face told Jotaro that he was going about this all wrong.
He tried to amend, “He died to save my entire family. Including you. Without him, we all probably wouldn’t be here today.”
If possible, Josuke looked even more horrified.
Jotaro struggled to reign in his frustration, his total inadequacy at words biting him in the ass. “I could’ve saved him. But by the time I killed his murderer, he was already dead.”
“M-Mr. Jotaro, oh my God-”
“I was in an emotional slump, just like you. I blamed everything, everyone, him, myself-”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to-”
“-but then Jiji - your old man - told me something, a long time ago. That it’s because of him-” them “-that we survived. He made that choice, he knew the risks. And he still stuck with me, even though he knew he might not make it, he was determined to see it through. I can’t blame anyone for a choice he made, nor be angry at him for it.”
Josuke was silent next to him.
“Okuyasu was the same way.”
Josuke’s breath hitched. “Jotaro-”
“It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be sad. But it was his choice to… protect you. And he did.”
A broken sob ripped through the air, and Jotaro winced. He’d completely fucked up.
Too bad he’d given his handkerchief to Yukako.
The incense sticks burned themselves out.
Josuke had his hands wrapped around himself in a mock version of a hug, trembling all over as tears rolled down his cheeks. Jotaro winced again at the sight.
And then a sob became a choked laugh. And another. And another. Until Josuke was laughing himself sick, and Jotaro wondered if he’d broken the kid.
“I’ve never heard you talk that much-” Josuke heaved in a breath. “-I thought it wasn’t possible!”
Jotaro frowned, confused. Why did his voice articulations have anything to do with this? As far as he was concerned, he’d just touched a very sensitive topic, both for himself and for Josuke. So what-?
The kid looked like he was suffocating from his own laughter. His face was beet red, and tears streamed down his cheeks - though from sadness or hysterics, Jotaro couldn’t tell.
Anger and embarrassment boiled up the surface. “Hey!” Jotaro yelled. “Quit laughing. It’s annoying.”
“S-sorry.” Josuke gasped. He reached into his pocket, produced his wallet, and dropped a couple of yen near the headstone. “You win, Oku. You win.”
“Win what?”
“We made a bet.” Josuke explained, wiping his cheeks with his school sleeves. “‘Who could make Jotaro the Emotionless Giant spill his past first.’ I thought it wasn’t possible. Okuyasu thought otherwise.”
Josuke closed his eyes and prayed for every strain of patience in existence. “Did you even listen to what I said?”
Josuke’s smile wavered only slightly. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Tch.”
“And… I understand what you were trying to convey.”
“Did it work?”
Josuke sighed. “I think I’ll get it eventually. Right now I’m just…” he shrugged his shoulders before they slumped. “I don’t know. Bitter, I guess?”
He looked at Jotaro then, eyes genuine. “But I appreciate it, Jotaro. Thanks for sharing with me.”
Jotaro stared back, blinking, before turning away. “It was nothing.”
“Aw, c’mon. Don’t say that. It was a big step for someone like you.”
Jotaro climbed to his feet. “Yeah, and it was exhausting. You were a terrible audience. I’m leaving.”
“Wait!”
Jotaro turned just in time to catch a carton of ice cream. Strawberry and chocolate chip.
“It’s not like Oku can come and eat it anyways. Go ahead and have it.”
Jotaro stared down at the label and said honestly, “I don’t like sweets.”
“Oh.”
“But thank you.” he hurried to rectify.
Josuke smiled at him, a true, genuine smile. It wasn’t as wide and his eyes didn’t crinkle, but it was miles better than the downturned lips and downcast eyes that had cemented themselves onto his face these past few weeks. “You're welcome. And thank you too.”