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"What's that notebook you're always pulling out, Kakyoin?"
The red-haired boy tilted his head absentmindedly and narrowed his eyes.
It was just enough for Jotaro to realize he was going to tell a lie.
"Travel notes."
"Aaaaah-annnnh..."
It was obvious that Polnareff would immediately lose interest by thinking about how boring a travelogue made by Kakyoin could be - come on, who cares what the signature dish of Varanasi is? It was less obvious that that lie aroused a sudden curiosity in Jotaro, a guy who usually didn't want to get involved in other people's business.
He began to notice the moments when Kakyoin would pull that notebook out of his pocket.
It was small, elegantly bound in leather and closed with a lace that went all around the pages that had now taken on the color of the desert. Inside it most likely had a space to store a pencil, since Jotaro never saw him take anything out to write but he was never without one.
A pencil, not a pen. He never wrote with a pen.
Every once in a while he would see Kakyoin stare at a distant point on the horizon, the notebook clutched in his hands, and then begin to move his hand slowly across the paper. He had never noticed it, but Kakyoin had the most beautiful hands he had ever seen. In fact, he'd never noticed anyone's hands, but Jotaro was sure that Kakyoin's were the only ones he'd ever lingered on for a reason. As were his eyes, amethyst colored, so distinctive. Jotaro couldn't have said what color Polnareff's eyes were, and if he had been asked the color of his grandfather's eyes he would have answered dryly, "light," but that time they had walked through the colorful stalls of Bombay's bazaars he recalled thinking distinctly, at a gem dealer's stall, "none of these have the precise color of Kakyoin's eyes."
He didn't have many opportunities to dwell on that shade of purple, because Kakyoin often wore a scarf, shielding his face. To make things worse, his expression seemed perpetually elusive, with that barely raised eyebrow and the corners of his mouth naturally curving downward. Still, Jotaro had crossed his gaze more than once. At first he thought it was an accident, but he began to notice that often when their eyes met Kakyoin had that notebook in his hands. When he had convinced himself that it couldn't be a coincidence, he suddenly didn't see him take it out of his pocket. For several days, Kakyoin's hands remained quiet and Jotaro felt a kind of nostalgia for it.
His curiosity about the object began to become unhealthy. Probably the boredom of long journeys in the dull desert landscapes left much room for imagination, and this gave Jotaro a reasonable justification for his little fixation. Sure, he could have sneaked a peek into it with Star Platinum, but he felt it wouldn't be fair to play dirty. He didn't want to find out sneakily, he wanted Kakyoin to be aware that he knew.
Is it more important to find out a secret or why do we decide to have it?
After more than a week, Jotaro had resigned himself to never knowing what was in those mysterious notes. Maybe it really was just a travelogue and Kakyoin had grown tired of writing in them. Except that on one particularly hot night, on the way to Lahore, Jotaro had found himself awake after a brief moment of sleep. He had fallen asleep with his coat on, as he usually did, but the humidity was so unbearable that it forced him to interrupt his rest. He had opened his eyes hidden by the visor of his hat, instinctively turning his gaze to the small twin bed on his right.
Kakyoin was there, watching him, notebook in hand.
His hands were once again scrolling quickly over the paper, guided only by the dim light of a candle, hidden behind his back to keep it from shedding too much light.
The fingers of his right hand went over the same spot several times, the index finger of his left absentmindedly curling his scarlet forelock as if seeking inspiration...
Was Kakyoin drawing?
"The light doesn't bother me."
Kakyoin gasped and the pencil clattered to the paper. A misstep.
"Jotaro...! You scared me." he stammered, obviously embarrassed.
Jotaro remained silent, continuing to look at him sidelong from under his hat. He noted with chagrin that apparently his intervention had ruined whatever the other was doing: Kakyoin had a contrite grimace on his face and had put the pencil away, holding the notebook closed in his hands but not tying it.
"I told you the light doesn't bother me, go ahead and draw if you want."
Kakyoin didn't reply but stopped fiddling with the lace that held the pages tight.
"It's okay, I'm starting to get tired too. I should sleep."
"So it's true that you're drawing."
The red-haired boy pushed the forelock away from his face, curling his lip just slightly. Apparently he had unwittingly admitted what his precious little notebook really contained.
"Why did you lie to Polnareff? Are they bad drawings?" Jotaro mocked him, trying to get him to unbutton more.
"Ugly." Kakyoin began to twist the lace around the cover, raising his eyebrow, with that face he always had when he didn't want you to know if he was being sarcastic.
"Let me see them, so I can tell you if they're really hideous," Jotaro insisted.
Kakyoin for a moment seemed to really consider that possibility but then shook his head vigorously.
"I'd rather not."
"As you wish," Jotaro pulled himself up to his seat and shrugged. "Then good night."
Kakyoin seemed to step back for a moment as the dark-haired boy stood before him again. Jotaro took off his coat and even though his back was turned he had the distinct feeling that those amethyst eyes were still following him with their gaze, keeping an eye on his movements.
Well, perfect. At least he'd be distracted.
Yes, it wasn't right to use Star Platinum, but things were different if he wasn't secretly reading it. It was going to be a lot more fun that way, besides.
When Jotaro turned around, once he hung up his coat, he had the notebook in his hands and the confirmation that Kakyoin had never stopped looking at him: immediately the boy's face turned as red as his hair, his eyes wide, suddenly clutching the nothing in his hands.
"JOTARO!"
The dark-haired boy quickly scrolled through the pages, as fast as a skilled clerk would count bills: a handful of seconds barely, before he felt one of Hierophant Green's supple extremities snatch it out of his hand again and return it to its legitimate owner.
Kakyoin's hands gripped the notebook tightly, but despite the annoyance painted on his face he had turned his back on Jotaro instead of initiating one of those fisticuffs Joseph liked to call " boy caresses. " Hierophant's green glow still surrounded Kakyoin's figure, like a faint aura.
It was all rather unusual, but only one question came to Jotaro's mind.
"Why do you only draw me?"
Kakyoin turned around, widening his eyes: he held the notebook still in his hands, half open, his index finger still between the open pages. He looked at Jotaro as if to see if he was teasing him, sharpening his gaze with a raised eyebrow.
Jotaro stared at him, with a serious, deep gaze, waiting for an answer but was puzzled when Kakyoin brought a hand in front of his mouth to hide a small laugh.
"Excuse me..." he uncovered his face again, his lips still rippling with a smile.
"Is that a funny question?" Jotaro kicked his hat onto his forehead, sitting back down on his single cot.
"No, no, it's just..." Kakyoin waved his hand in the air, as if to banish that smile, and walked over to Jotaro, making Hierophant Green's aura disappear. Now that the dark-haired boy was seated he could look down at him, the red forelock falling elegantly near the curve of his nose.
You're so smart, Jotaro Kujo, and yet...
You really need to get your head around this, don't you?
Jotaro noticed that Kakyoin's cheeks had just turned red, though he didn't seem to be angry yet.He fixed his sea-green eyes on those purple irises and thought that he really wished he could find a name for that color, but maybe it was enough to name it like him. After all, what was the need to look for it elsewhere?
They remained a few moments with their breath hanging, a step away from each other, before Kakyoin added in a whisper
"... I told you they were really hideous."
"Mpf... Good grief."
Jotaro kicked his visor over his forehead, pushing him away with an open palm.
Kakyoin stepped back, not before delivering a kick to his shin with pinpoint accuracy.
"Good night, Jotaro."
"Good night, Kakyoin."