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There had always been a part of Jolyne that loathed him for taking her father away from her. She could remember the day her mother crouched down, placing hands on both her shoulders, explaining that her father had found love again.
For a child, it was difficult to understand, utterly devastating. It crushed her perfect image of the perfect family she’d been pampered in. Even far more surprising to learn that Jotaro’s love was in fact a man.
Just recently, after missing her birthday, Jotaro called. Her mother stood at the phone, murmuring coldly the answers. Even scoffing at how he thought Jolyne had turned sixteen when she had just begun her first year in college.
“Jolyne,” her mother called, “your dad wants to speak with you.”
Jolyne was already peeking behind a wall. Despite being curious of Jotaro’s whereabouts, she never made the effort to know more than just that. “What does he want?”
Her mother gave her a scolding look as if she meant to tell her to roll with it.
On the phone, “Hello,” she muttered.
“Hello, Jolyne. How have you been?”
“Fine,” she looked at her mother who beckoned her to be more polite, “erm… how about...you?”
“I’m doing great. Have you received your present?”
She rolled her eyes, already having guessed that he bought it last minute like he always did for her birthdays. “Yeah.”
“How do you find it?” he asked, the sheer attempt to make an effort clearly visible, which she ignored.
It was too late to make any effort though, she thought.
“It was,” Jolyne tried her best to find a word not too exaggerating, “pretty. Thank you.”
“Does it fit you?”
“It does.”
“I‘m glad you like it, I know you like butterflies.”
And that was quite just about what Jotaro knew about his daughter, along with how bad her temper can get. He disliked how that was one of the things she got from him, one of the things he hated about himself.
Jotaro cleared his throat. “I’m in Florida.”
Jolyne took in a soundless gasp that a hand followed to her mouth. “What?”
“I want to see you.”
She looked at her mother for some help, only to not find her in the spot she was left. She panicked. And on a whim, she whispered, “W...Why?”
It was silent for a minute that she thought he hung up until she put her ear back on the phone just to hear a quiet “I missed you.”
Bullshit, Jolyne thought, if he really did, he would have come running back every chance that he got.
“Okay.” she said. Not very surprising to Jotaro on his end, so he nodded and took a deep breath. “I want you to wear the dress I got you today.”
“Today?” she asked cluelessly.
“Has your mother not told you?”
“About?”
Jotaro rubbed his temple in fury, forgetting that Jolyne can’t see it. “You are to visit me this evening. I’ve already had a driver fixed to pick you up.”
That was all she heard before the line was abruptly cut.
Soon enough, Jolyne found herself dressed in shades of blue. She eyed herself in the mirror, refusing to admit that she really liked the dress. Even more so for the butterfly embroidery that still retained the overall minimalism.
Her mother appeared behind her, “You look stunning.”
She looked at her through the mirror, “Mom, I really would appreciate it if you told me about meeting him sooner. What if I didn’t want to?!”
There was a look of guilt plastered on her mother’s face, arms reaching to hug her daughter. “Jolyne, honey,” Jolyne spun around, waiting for an answer, “all I ever wanted was to see you happy.”
Jolyne raised a brow, “I am happy. What do you mean?”
She registered a very specific look in her mother’s eyes that she could not identify.
“I know you’re happy inside that Jotaro wants to see you again.”
The girl said nothing, only looked down at her pedicured feet. Following the alarming honking of a car at their front porch, she knew it was her cue to leave.
In the car, so many scenarios turned over and over in her mind. Worst case scenarios for some reason. Jolyne had never brought herself to think that something positive would come after meeting her father, since she’s only ever recalled her mother’s complaints about him growing up, from when he was still there .
It had probably been that Jolyne pondered over the thought for too long not to realize that they had pulled over in front of an incredibly beautiful house. Far fancier than the one Jotaro had left behind for her and his ex wife.
She gulped.
At the door, only if she bothered to squint, Jotaro stood leaning on the frame, taking her by surprise when she stopped halfway up the porch. The eye contact they made was far more stronger than any one they have ever made. A hint of longing was there for sure of which Jotaro decided to act on first.
Jolyne did not realize when her father wrapped his arms around her. By far the tightest he’s ever given her, one that felt much more genuine than ever. She almost felt the urge to cry there and then.
But she pushed him away. “You will smudge my makeup, old man.” she said lightly.
The urge to shed tears was so very evident when the girl looked up to witness the smallest, most loving smile Jotaro had ever cracked. Maybe she was being delusional, that it might have been a simple act of good manners that she misconstrued. Though Jotaro would never know how it made her feel to be looked at that way.
It truly, truly made her feel valued by the one she sought recognition from all her life.
Jolyne would have quickly given in to the emotions, had she not heard a third, unfamiliar voice ringing from far away.
She frankly feared, from the bottom of her heart, the idea of who that might’ve been. Even as Jotaro inched away, revealing a sharply dressed man with hair styled on the side, her mind couldn’t fully register the situation.
He was as attractive as he'd been in the photos of the sea articles she read about him. So much beauty in his form that could blind the naive.
But Jolyne surely was not to forget the ire she harbored against him.
The man introduced himself when he met her at the door, “You’re finally here.”
She stared at him with fading shock. He continued, “It’s wonderful to have you here. I’m guessing you already know a lot about me but I’ll introduce myself again. I’m Rohan Kishibe, it’s my pleasure to meet you, Jolyne.”
Looking him right in the eye, “I know that.” she said (which ruined his attempt to make a good impression about himself), hesitantly accepting the offer to shake hands.
But Rohan did not budge, and moved out the way, welcoming her in with the biggest smile he could manage for the meantime --slight tugs on the corners of his mouth. When Jotaro followed her in, he gave his lover an apologetic look.
Once inside, Jolyne failed to hide her immediate reaction that Rohan commented on, “Seems like you love the place, fancy a tour?”
She faced him to see that he’d been eyeing all of her, from head to toe, the same as when he’d admire a piece of artwork. All with that same smile on his face, except that it grew just a tad bit. She was not uncomfortable at all, rather confused. “Not at the moment.”
“Well then,” Rohan walked farther in the house, “make yourself at home.”
For the most part, Jolyne found it hard to initiate talks with them. She was surprised to see that the crabby man described to her before was such a sweetheart. He’d get up and bring her all she needed from food and refreshments, even when she kindly declined, he still told her not to be silly.
Jotaro on the other hand, was a man that she could not recognize. He even told her how much she grew and that she looked beautiful. It was eerie to witness the slightest bit of emotion on his usually stoic face. Her father would carry this look that she could recall from early childhood. A look that he gave her mother so, so long ago when she was still in kindergarten. A shine that indicated a very distinct emotion.
In spite of the two men being as reserved as possible, in the kitchen, at which she peered, she would hear little giggles resounding from where their backs faced her, see little playful nudges, and feel even more emptier on the inside. Although a side of her loved to see the playfulness he’d never displayed before.
During dinner, Rohan kept the table entertained with more stories about his experiences travelling around the world for his career while she and her dad nodded and exchanged a few words.
Jolyne hated to admit it, but it was undeniable that Jotaro was smitten by the man he chose over her mother.
That was what she firmly believed in.
When returning the dishes to the kitchen, her father --who she had opened up to a bit more-- told her, in the nicest way he could manage, to be a little more cordial to Rohan. “He spent so much time learning english just so you two would not have that language barrier,” He said, “Rohan really was looking forward to seeing you.”
At some point, Jotaro excused himself for a smoke, saying that he’ll be back soon.
It’s been eight minutes since. She’d been counting sixty seconds eight times ever so patiently, just so she would not have to speak to Rohan, who she last saw mindlessly flipping through a magazine.
“Do you like that clock? We got it from Hong Kong last summer. Beautiful, sturdy wood. Makes a good bed.”
Jolyne looked at him to find that he was positioned --with a leg over the over-- across from her. “I don’t want to know what kind of bed he screws you on.”
He nodded and pointed far out of her peripheral view, “Jolyne, what do you see in that sculpture over there? How about that painting?”
She turned to behold what was, in her eyes, the silliest clump of stone she’s ever seen. Even that painting of a child with a hat and a suit looked ridiculous. “You’re about to base my entire personality on the answer I’ll give you. Isn't that correct?”
His brows shot up, and a grin plastered on his face. “I can’t say you’re smart, it is quite obvious what my intentions were,” Rohan said, “You sure are an embodiment of Jotaro.”
“Pardon?”
“I said you look just like your father, even more with that scowl on your face.”
Rohan saw very well how Jolyne’s expression darkened far more than it already was. It didn’t take long for her to snap back, “I’m nothing like him.”
“See? Even he denies the obvious.”
“Stop fucking acting like you know me, asshole. Fuck, I wanna go home.” Jolyne spat, pouring all her hatred into each syllable. When she stood and marched towards the back door, Rohan held her from her wrist.
“Will you please take a seat?” he asked kindly, “do you really want to make things hard?”
Rohan realised that the way he spoke was not how he wanted it to be, “Allow me to rephrase. I just wish to get to know you, is all,” he said, “now, will you help me to do that by taking a seat so we can talk?”
Jolyne’s kind nature began to act, her eyes softened and her shoulders slumped. Her mouth hung open so she could say something but realized how passive aggressive she’s been with him all evening. So, she complied.
Soon enough they were back in their spots and she was silent.
“I heard you're in college--”
“I’ve always hated you.”
The man did not know what to say, he managed an understanding nod. “I see.”
“I still do. I truly wish you’d perish off the face of this earth. I don’t think I can describe to what extent you have ruined my life.”
Jolyne’s arms were crossed and her head hung low, perhaps to mask the tiny crack in her tone at the end.
“I understand.”
“No you don't.”
“I can see where you’re coming from--”
“Not one bit. You don’t know how it feels to blame yourself every single fucking day. Tell me, Do you?”
“I’m not sure I can answer that.”
“Hah! Oh of course you can’t!” Jolyne threw her hands in the air, revealing how red her face was. “You act like you’ve known me all my fucking life. Who do you think you are, comparing me to him? I’m nothing like the asshole he is! I would never leave my family behind! Leave a goddamn six year old that grew thinking it’s her fucking fault her didn’t wanna stay with her anymore! Hmm? You know nothing!”
By the time she finished, Jolyne was a few inches away from Rohan, whose expression did not falter. “He did that for your own safety.”
She scoffed and threw her head back in a laugh. So agitated with what she got herself into by coming here in the first place. “Lies. That’s what all of them say. ‘he loves you’ ‘it’s for your own good’ ‘you mean the world to him.’... What kind of person forsakes their world?”
Jolyne appeared as though she began to let herself slip away when the laughter died into sniffles. Little quiet sniffles that slowly began to echo into cries.
He watched her bury her face into her hand, “All my life I only ever remembered the yelling that’d wake me up from sleep at night. My mother would start throwing shit around and he’d disappear for a day or two then come back like nothing happened.” She looked at Rohan, “Do you know how it must have been to be seen as a second choice? Not even a choice in his eyes at all? You start to wonder what you could do to please him. Make him stay.
He never returned any of my hugs, never batted an eye to any of the drawings I drew him, muchless hung them on the fridge. Not once had he praised me for anything. Never carried me on his shoulders or gave me piggy back rides. Never helped me with homework. When I sat on his lap, he’d hold me close. That’s about it, the only form of affection I'd ever received. Even so, he was so emotionally distant, it’s like he was forced to take care of his own fucking child.
There was never anything to work with from the start. I barely knew what his younger years were like, what kind of friends he had in college, what his favorite color is. Only my grandmother and her brother were there to fill me in.
He’s just a stranger. I hate him for making me hate myself. I hate everyone for lying to me!
I hate you for taking him away from me!”
Jolyne’s eyes were red and puffy from the tears, only a clear slit of green amidst the redness. Her chest was heaving tumultuously and she looked like she was about to collapse on the floor.
“Don’t touch me,” she said when Rohan reached to place a consoling hand on her shoulder. He backed away immediately.
Jolyne heard shuffling, and found that he was not there anymore. The embarrassment she felt was unmatched, so much that she wanted to slap herself across the face.
She was utterly disappointed in herself to crumble at the subject of her father yet again, especially after scolding herself endless times everytime it happened.
“Jolyne.”
Rohan sat on the sofa, something in his lap, patting the empty spot next to him. She gathered herself and slumped down.
She did not speak. Instead, she observed him dust what looked like an album. He flipped through it, skipping groups of pages. Though Jolyne still caught glimpses of photos of the two men together, kissing even.
“I’m not sure how he’ll react to me showing you this,” he said “but I feel you deserve to know everything.”
Jolyne listened and watched intently, leaning in to look, only to choke back a gasp.
“All of these, your father’s been keeping them since you were born.”
In Rohan’s hands were pictures of Jolyne when she was younger, so many of them that a good chunk of the pages were dedicated solely to her. As he flipped, she could see that they were chronologically arranged, evident in the dates written under each photograph.
They started with her in her mothers arms, an infant, all the way to her first day in first grade, when lost a tooth at the time.
“If only you knew the stories he told me about you. He would never shut up unless I’ve had enough for the day,” Rohan smiled to himself and looked at Jolyne, whose tears began to dribble down her cheeks again. “The interesting thing is,” He slid a random one out of its pocket and flipped it over, “He can tell exactly what happened the day he took every picture.”
On the back, little notes --the events-- where written. “Despite that, he insisted that he write them down. He said it was for when he’d grow old and start forgetting things that he’d at least have these notes to remind him of his little girl.”
That was when Jolyne, for the third time that evening, felt her heart tighten and swell at the same time. It was an indiscernible feeling, as though her heart failed to decide what to do. Through her cries, with trembling hands, she held the album and flipped through it herself. With every page grew heavier feelings, a mixture of guilt, hatred and something she couldn't decipher.
After a long time of sniffling and wiping her face, she finally spoke. “Why?”
“Why?” Rohan questioned.
“Why did he leave?” Jolyne faced Rohan, gripping him from both shoulders in frantic hysteria, “Please tell me. Y-You know? Right? Do you? Of course you do. I’m begging you, please tell me why he did what he did. I need to know—“
He shushed her with a finger to her lips as to calm her down, “If you stay still I’ll tell you everything. Deal?”
She instantly backed away a little, pressing her palms together and placing her hands between her thighs. Rohan sighed, visibly contemplating where exactly he should begin.
“Do you know what stands are?”
“What?”
Rohan placed a hand on her arm where little pages began to pop open. In a panic, Jolyne looked up at him to find that he glowed with a blue hue, a figure of a child emerging from behind him. The same child in that silly painting he pointed at a while ago.
“W…What is that?!”
“So you are a user as well,” he retreated his hand and it all disappeared, “this is my ability, Heaven’s Door. The fact that you can see it means you also have an ability. In short, some people can manifest their energy into what is called a ‘Stand’. Have you ever experienced a bizarre occurrence before?”
“Like what?”
“Perhaps seeing something, a humanoid even, while others didn’t?”
Jolyne thought about it, her eyes widened in realization, “Whenever I went to sleep at night in my childhood, erm…before they got divorced, I was very afraid of the dark.”
Rohan nodded and she continued, “There was always this Imaginary friend that would be there. He was very huge and muscular, he had purple skin. Now that I think about it, he was dressed like one of those Greek gods. He’d cradle me every single night and pat my head until I fall asleep. He was never there the next morning.”
Laughter, Jolyne heard laughter. It was Rohan who began to laugh quietly.
“What’s so funny?” she sneered, “This isn’t some sort of joke! I’m serious!”
“That is your father’s stand.”
In shock, “What?” she breathed.
“It’s Star Platinum. Jotaro’s stand.”
Jolyne slumped, letting the realization settle in. “What does that even mean?”
Rohan sighed, “You know, stands reflect our inner feelings. It seems Jotaro, even when he didn’t want to go to your room, he still wanted to be there with you. He must’ve not realized it when Star Platinum acted on his desire.”
“You’re saying...what that Star Platinum guy was doing...it was my father’s will?”
“You’re right. Stands are a beautiful thing to witness. But then again, they could be cruel.”
“How so?”
Rohan cleared his throat, appearing to brace himself to speak of a serious topic. He offered his hands to which she reluctantly took. Then, on the inside, Jolyne started to trust him.
“The reason your father was never around, Jolyne, was because he was afraid you and your mother would face that cruelty.”
She said nothing and he continued, taking long breaths in between, “Not all people’s intentions are pure. Those were who Jotaro was --and still is-- afraid would haunt you down. In his younger years, he’d gotten himself affiliated with troublesome stand users. Descendants and followers of a certain man he killed to save your grandma at the age of seventeen. Since then, he hadn’t known peace. And his goal, after you were brought in his arms --like he told me-- was for you to live a normal life, and in order to do that he forced himself to stay away from you and your mother.”
At that point, Jolyne had no more tears left to cry, but a body that weighed twice its weight. She did not know what to say or do, rather what to do to hide herself away and process the unbelievable revelation.
In the driest tone possible, she said, “I want you to tell me what happened after he divorced my mother. I believe you knew him at the time.”
Rohan nodded and looked at the ceiling, allowing twelve year old memories to resurface. “It was,” he started, “the summer of 1999.”
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Jotaro palmed himself for his lighter to smoke the cigarette between his lips.
“Looking for this?”
He turned around. In the dim light, still partially covered in sheets, Rohan waved the flame in the air and moved out of the bed, revealing his naked body that Jotaro had gotten used to.
The man reached for the lighter only to be stopped, “Aht Aht, I’ll do it for you.”
Rohan clicked it and Jotaro took a long, adequate drag before deflating his broad chest.
The shorter man walked over and fetched something to cover himself with, only to shortly lay on the chaise of his room, clad in a robe. He eyed Jotaro, seeing that he was distressed. Not that it mattered to him that much, though he couldn’t deny that the man had been growing on him as of late. Their hookups have been too passionate to just be called that, he started to suspect Jotaro felt the same towards him.
“You seem troubled. All this fucking and you still haven’t gotten it off your chest?”
Jotaro felt a pair of arms drape on his shoulders, one hand reaching to steal the cigarette to place it in Rohan’s mouth, returning it back to him after a drag. The tall man caressed them absentmindedly and frankly answered, “No.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
He turned around and pulled him onto his lap, taking Rohan by surprise, being held within Jotaro’s muscular build was usually very nice, on a suggestive level. Though now he knew it was not the time to behave like a dog in heat.
Amidst the tranquil that reigned, “Is it about your daughter?” Rohan asked, finding that the other man was receptive to touch when he leaned in under the fingers that threaded through his hair.
“Yes.”
Rohan sighed, there weren’t many options to begin with, he really didn’t want to bother himself with rantings from the sorry excuse of a father under him.
But Jotaro was different, he thought, not knowing why.
“Jolyne...is her name, isn't it?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to know more about her.”
Jotaro looked up at Rohan, whose eyes held nothing but the truth. He was almost ashamed to let him know just how much of a failure of a father he is.
Though there was no other way he’d get this off his chest.
“I’ve been getting letters from her.”
“She writes them?”
“Yes, my grandmother’s been visiting her and every time Jolyne would make her sit down to help her write those letters.”
Rohan nodded, “Mhm, and have you been writing her back?”
Jotaro shook his head.
“Why so?”
The man took another drag of his cigarette and tilted his head back. It took him a while to reply, though when it did, it was a raspy whisper, “Because I’m a coward.”
Rohan retreated his hand and covered his face with it, stifling a laugh at the feeble response. “Yet you’re not doing anything about it? There’s no use sulking if you--”
He immediately looked at Jotaro, from whom silent sniffles left. He couldn’t believe his eyes, he’s never seen him cry before. Rohan did not know what to do, hands losing their rhythm and falling limp when Jotaro spoke again, “She said that she misses me, that she’ll be waiting for me to come back, even if it meant forever,” he swallowed back the growing lump in his throat, “She doesn't have the slightest clue on what went on between me and her mother. She’s probably wondering why I left.”
Rohan truly was at a loss for words, he didn't know just how shitty Jotaro was, even he couldn’t sympathize with him.
“All I ever want is for her to wake up and sleep in safety, away from those who are hunting me down. I just don’t want her to get hurt, although I am doing that to her myself,” he said dryly, “I want her to live a long life, even if I don’t get to see it. Just knowing she’s happy puts me at ease.
I have failed.”
Rohan nodded.
“I have failed as a son, as a friend, as a lover, as a father. I have no one to turn to,” Jotaro cried and clocked his blue eyes with Rohan’s Jade ones, “Rohan, do you think I am worthy of anything?”
He immediately cradled his head, as though he was thinking with his heart rather than his head, and whispered, “Of course you are.”
“Why do you say this?”
“It’s...It’s because...I know for sure that you are worthy of
my whole...
…being.”
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He swiped a tear that nearly fell from her eye right in time, “That was it, the start. We soon grew closer and, well, here we are.”
Jolyne was tired, and Rohan saw that. He beckoned her to get closer and she did, only to accidentally slip onto his chest.
“Pardon—”
“It’s alright, stay still,” He said and reached for something while she stiffly remained in that awkward position.
“That dress looks good on you.”
“Th...thank you, I mean, everyone’s been saying that.”
“Oh really, do you like it?”
“Uhm...I told him that I did.”
“So you don’t like it.”
“Oh no! I...do. I actually do. I’m surprised he got good taste.”
Rohan stopped his shuffling and said, “Hmm, I’m glad my design fits your liking.”
Jolyne lifted herself from him, “Your what?”
He laughed for the umpteenth time, “You know… Jotaro usually asks me to design your birthday gifts.”
“ You designed this dress?!”
He pulled out a paper that he unfolded, revealing innumerable sketches and measurements all over the page.
“Him and I spent six months on it.”
Rohan brushed a strand behind her ear and smiled, “I’m quite proud of how it turned out.”
Jolyne looked down at it, running her fingers over the fabric silently.
“It’s been the same with every gift he sent you, that’s… that’s why they’re always late. He often sends them back and frets over their quality every time.”
She smiled to herself, “That stupid old man,” she said and her gaze drifted a little that it landed on a shimmer on Rohan’s left hand.
“...Is that a ring?”
He looked down then raised it in the air with pride. “It is.”
“How long have you two been together… officially?”
“Eleven years in total. Dated for 5, been engaged for the rest.”
Jolyne nodded, “I see.”
“We’re getting married next spring.”
Her face held shock that he did not take as a good sign. He panicked on the inside, he was afraid she wouldn't confirm agreement on his next statement.
“I hope you’re...accepting us, two men together.”
He looked away then saw that Jolyne’s face had finally lit up, the brightest grin he had ever seen, despite the strokes of black mascara that painted her cheeks. He thought she looked just like Jotaro when he occasionally flashed his teeth, finding it utterly beautiful how someone can resemble another just by simply existing.
“Of course I am. I...well… I have yet to tell people this but I’ve been with girls before.”
He grinned and nodded. “We’d love to see you there.”
“What do you mean?”
Rohan stretched in his seat a little, “At our wedding.”
“Wait, you...you want me to be there?” she asked in disbelief.
“Why so surprised? Of course I do. Despite not ever speaking to you, I always wanted to bond with you, like father and daughter. You’d always be welcome, You and I will carry the same last name for the rest of our lives after all.”
With that, Jolyne’s eyes got glossy again and Rohan scoffed. All of the sudden, there was weight on his body.
She hugged him.
“I’m sorry.” she stifled between the gasps, “I’m so, so sorry for hating you. I should have known better than to act like a bitch when all you clearly wanted was to get to know me-”
Rohan tittered and caressed her hair, “Shhh, It’s alright. I’m not mad at all, I see why you’d despise me. I’d do that in your case as well. Tell me now, what do you think you’re gonna do with your father?”
Jolyne rolled her eyes and answered with a blocked nose, “It’s not like things will get solved overnight. But,” she paused and giggled, “I might really give him a second chance.”
“Well! Well, now that we got that out of the way. How about we go find you some makeup wipes? While I do that you tell me how you found out about Pink Dark Boy --if you did--, I’m interested in knowing.”
She giggled, “I always knew about it, just never bothered reading it until my boyfriend nagged me to start it. It was surprising since he was more of a DC guy and, well, Disney too.”
Rohan led Jolyne up the stairs where their chattering faded into silent echoes, and around a corner, hidden in the shadows away from a lamp, where Jotaro stood along with the bubble of feels that had bursted into dribbling tears, he knew he met the right person, in the right time, to fix the right problem in the right way.