Chapter Text
1989
Noriaki Kakyoin learned very early that life was in no way easy, kind, or fair. Especially if you were like him- if you were different. No one seemed to understand him, his parents told him not to tell anybody about Hierophant Green.
No one could know. That was the thing that stuck with him for his entire childhood, Hierophant was such a large part of him that if he couldn't tell them about him, he couldn't tell anybody anything he thought might be upsetting. He was supposed to be ashamed of everything that wasn't perfect. So he kept his grades tip top, hid every part of himself in the recesses of his room and didn't talk to anybody. that was his life, Monotonous, harsh, and absolutely lonely.
That is, until his trip to Egypt.
He was with his parents, who were having a grand time, enjoying their vacation, clearly they didn't need him to have a good time. He decided to take a walk along the streets against his parents' better judgment, wandering the seemingly empty dark alleyways of Cairo, the hot air almost stifling.
It seemed he couldn't escape the heat, no matter where he went. Kakyoin felt sweat drip down his brow as he rounded yet another corner, expecting the same blank streets.
That was a sorry mistake. His first thought was he had walked in on a murder scene, two corpses lay on the ground, faces frozen in horror as roses slowly curled around them, the flora having an eerie glow, almost supernatural. At the end of the street stood a man silhouetted by the bright moonlight, features hidden, he stood there as if he was expecting Kakyoin. The man was huge in nearly every aspect, towering over anyone Kakyoin has ever seen, muscles on muscles the man looked like an athlete. Yet as he stood there he retained absolute grace, poised on the balls of his feet as if ready for anything. His very presence was terrifying.
Kakyoin felt his mouth go dry, he wanted to run but his feet were bolted to the spot. The man took a step forward and Kakyoin nearly choked from how hard it suddenly was to breathe, sweat pouring like bullets down his skin, begging for his legs to move, to run.
As the figure approached, Kakyoin could see his features better, he was English, with his sharp long nose and his piercing eyes. It was strange that the first thing Kakyoin thought was how beautiful the man was, how the roses curled and trailed behind him. The man looked confident, self assured as he circled around Kakyoin, letting out a rumbling laugh. Even his voice was beautiful and smooth.
Once behind him, the man got closer. Kakyoin felt his sweaty hair pulled away from the side of his neck and his breath hitched, so scared he thought he was going to throw up, or pass out, or both.
"Kakyoin..." he heard his own name uttered next to his ear, the man's chest pressed up against his back, he felt a shiver go down his spine in response. swallowing thickly as he felt a hand snake around his throat, incredibly sharp long nails threatened to pierce the skin.
"Let's be friends.." he hears.
And that's the last thing he hears for a long while, truly hear that is. He felt like a puppet in his own skin, unable to think for himself, hear for himself. things happened to him without his mind's own consent, did things without being able to say no. It went on so long he had started to think he would never be able to control his own self ever again. That is until that boy...
Kujo Jotaro.
Kakyoin's first real memory of him was Jotaro leaning over him, those intense blue-green eyes staring at him intently, strong hands on either side of his face.
"Don't move."
That voice was intense too, deep and desperate. Kakyoin listened, didn't move, didn't even breathe, just stared up at those eyes. Jotaro saved his life that day.
Kakyoin wondered why anyone would risk their life like that for a complete stranger, the level of compassion, of selflessness that required was immense. Maybe that's why Kakyoin wanted to help them so badly. Not only was he suddenly surrounded by stand users that understood him, but any group with Jotaro in it was a group he wanted to be in.
At first he only respected the boy, but as they journeyed that respect grew to admiration, maybe even friendship? Kakyoin never had friends, so he didn't really know, but the talks just the two of them by the campfire or the little shared smiles seemed like friendship. Kakyoin felt like he could be himself around Jotaro, and that had to count for something. Kakyoin eventually learned that Jotaro was far from perfect, but oddly enough that made him even more likable. It was almost endearing the way the boy had a hard time with eye contact, opting to cover his eyes with the brim of his hat, or the way he couldn't tell at all when you were joking with him, how he yelled when he was uncomfortable or fumbled terribly when ordering his own food.
Being himself was a terrifying ordeal, but learning to let himself do the little things felt so nice, snorting when he laughed, drawing in front of people or indulging in his niche interests, it helped him in a way he couldn't explain.
Kakyoin though upon all this, smiling slightly to himself at the end of his thought train, but It's 2 AM. He really should be sleeping instead of thinking, but sleep hasn't come easy the past few weeks. Kakyoin pushed away the memories and fixed himself back on the present, though truthfully not much was going on.
His eyes traced along a crack in the ceiling of this dingy motel. The smell of damp and household cleaners filled the thick air as the walls creaked with the settling of the building. The mattress beneath his back was stiff and the blankets were starchy. The only comfort in this room was the reassuring breathing from the other bed adjacent to him, the occasional shifts. Kakyoin could tell Jotaro wasn't asleep either, the constant threat of an enemy stand didn't care if you needed rest. He felt anxiety creep up his throat as the seconds ticked on, he glanced at the clock for the millionth time, wishing he could go back into thinking about the past. Kakyoin looked nervously out the window. It was empty.
"Hey, Jojo?" He asked into the open space between them, hoping for a distraction, he picked up the nickname from some others in the group, Jotaro didn't seem to mind so it stuck. He heard a hum in response, which made him sigh in relief. Though now he had the boys attention he was unsure what to do with it. He decided to just be honest.
"I can't sleep."
There was a silence from the other bed for a moment, before he heard shifting again, Kakyoin turned his head to see Jotaro turn to face him. Jotaro was still wearing his hat, even to bed. An odd thing but Kakyoin had learned to overlook it.
"Me neither," the boy grumbled eventually, shrugging his shoulders. There was silence for a moment, both not knowing what to say, before Jotaro sat up, crossing his legs and patting the space next to him on the bed. Kakyoin cocked a brow, before slowly getting up, silently making his way over to the other boy's bed, crawling up on it and settling next to him.
They were both stiff, tense from the long day of walking and fighting. Bodies still aching from the haphazardly patched up wounds, strained muscles and bruises that bloomed slowly as the hours went on. Kakyoin felt Jotaro shift and he looked over to see the boy was fishing something out of his back pocket, retrieving a lighter and a partially crushed box of cigarettes, which he opened, grabbing a stick with his mouth.
Kakyoin must have been staring too much because Jotaro glanced at him awkwardly, before holding out the box like an offer. Kakyoin shook his head, clearing his throat, causing the other to only shrug and shove the box back in his pocket.
Jotaro cupped his hand in front of his face, and Kakyoin could hear the clicking of the lighter as he flicked it on. Taking a deep inhale upon ignition, his eyes closing as if it were the most relaxing thing. It was a very intriguing sight to Kakyoin when Jotaro smoked, though It was concerning how often he did it. Kakyoin felt better oddly enough, already feeling sleepier, Jotaro took a deep breath and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, letting his head hit the wood with a soft thunk. Kakyoin followed, though when he met the headboard he scooted over slightly, letting his head rest against the taller boy's shoulder. Jotaro was hard to read, but over the past several weeks Kakyoin had begun to pick up on some of the little signals. He could feel the slight tense of Jotaros body, the way he looked in the opposite direction. Jotaro was nervous, of what exactly Kakyoin was unsure. There was a heartbeat of silence before he felt Jotaros head lean on top of his, a reciprocation, acceptance. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and it was then that the tension began to ebb, they sighed in sync.
"Thank you," Kakyoin mumbled after a moment
"What for," Jotaro hummed,
"For caring,"
The other boy didn't reply, simply took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the bitter smell of burning tobacco, it was quiet, but in that comfortable sort of way that they could sit in for as long as they wished.
"Hey Nori," Jotaro hummed suddenly, and Kakyoin entirely lost all thought process with those words.
"Nori?" He questioned, tilting his head up and looking at Jotaro with a cocked brow. The boy immediately pulled the brim of his hat down, embarrassed.
"I dunno I just uh- figured since you call me Jojo- like short for Noriaki... whatever, forget it." He grumbled crossing his arms over his chest, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips.
"No- no I like it," Kakyoin reassured,
"Never had a nickname before..."
Now it was Jotaros turn to cock a brow, "Never? Not even by your parents or something?"
Kakyoin shook his head, mom and dad always just called him Noriaki, nothing special, maybe a 'kid' when he did well, though it was rare even then. Jotaro simply hummed,
"Good grief, well you have one now," he mutters, knocking the ashes off the end of his cigarette onto the floor, slowly relaxing again.
"What were you gonna ask me?"
"Hm?"
"You said hey Nori earlier like you were gonna ask something,"
Jotaro shrugged, crushing the butt of his cigarette out on the bedside table, seeming to not care about the burn mark it left.
"I... just small talk," he hums, pulling the brim of his hat down again,
"My mom would talk to me when I had a hard time sleeping, tired me out," he explained shortly. He could tell Jotaro missed his mom, worried about her, even if he didn't talk about it. Kakyoin made a decision in his mind, suddenly shifting to lay down on the bed,
"Let's chill then, I'll talk to you and maybe we can both pass out." He offers, and Jotaro hesitates before nodding, lying down next to Kakyoin. The boy was so tall his legs would hang off the end of the bed if he let them. So he kept them curled slightly, settling down on his side. Kakyoin hummed once they were both lying down, looking at the other, whose bright eyes inspected him, a stray piece of hair falling over his face. Kakyoin didn’t think twice before reaching out and brushing that strand back, tucking it back in place. Jotaros brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn't move away.
"You had uhm... some hair in your face," Kakyoin awkwardly explains, which made Jotaro hum in reply. Jotaro's hair was much silkier than Kakyoin had expected, it took some effort to draw his hand back.
"Your hair is soft... what do you do to it?" Kakyoin asks, perhaps a strange direction for a conversation to go, but he was genuinely curious.
"I wash it," Jotaro shrugs, which makes Kakyoin laugh, he could have guessed that.
"Mm do you use something special? Like conditioner or something?" He could hardly help but extend his hands again, carding his fingers through Jotaro's hair, feeling that wonderful texture again. Though he didn't get an answer, because Jotaro had hardly mumbled an incoherent reply as his eyes fluttered closed, the sight made Kakyoin's heart stutter in his chest, such a rough man, big, broad and tall in every way, suddenly so soft.
"You like hands in your hair?" He said in a teasing voice, trying to restore some sense of normalcy, expecting Jotaro to tell him to fuck off, or be generally dismissive, but Jotaro simply nodded, leaning into the touch. To be frank Kakyoin didn't know how to cope with the wave of feelings that washed over him at that moment. He just scooted closer, letting a certain feeling of calm, sleep deprived emotion fall over him.
In his hazy state he could forget that this was strange, forget that the feeling wasn't normal. He pulled Jotaro in, who obliged him, settling close against his chest. Taking a deep breath of relief.
For the night he felt safe, just him, and Jotaro. His eyes felt heavy, and with his guard let down, he could finally fall asleep.