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Jotaro Kujo’s eyes snapped open. He could feel his heart pounding erratically in his chest, but there didn’t seem to be any reason for it. Quickly, he sat up and ran his hands through his his sweat-damp hair, eyes darting around to take in his surroundings. He was at home, in bed, and yet he couldn’t shake the frantic feeling welling up inside of him. Wiping his clammy palms against the blanket half-covering his body, he groped in the darkness over to his boyfriend’s side of the mattress. The small redhead was not there, yet the rumpled sheets were still warm to the touch. Jotaro began to chew on his lip — could this uneasiness have something to do with Kakyoin not being there? The brunet swallowed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was sure the younger man was fine, but he wanted to locate him for his own peace of mind.
The house was dark and quiet as Jotaro entered the hallway outside of their room. It was almost eerie, given the situation. He rubbed at his neck, cursing himself in the silence for not grabbing the half-empty pack of cigarettes from his bedroom dresser.
“Noriaki?” he called, deciding to forget about his tobacco for the time-being. “Hey babe, are you out here?” There was no response, but Jotaro thought he heard a faint noise coming from their balcony. Sometimes, when Kakyoin couldn’t sleep, he liked to brew a hot cup of tea and sit out there in the quiet of night.
“It helps relax me,” Kakyoin had once laughed when Jotaro questioned him about it. It made sense that he would be out there tonight, watching the city with his slender hands wrapped around a steaming mug of chamomile. Jotaro smiled a little at the thought, and padded over to the sliding-glass doors. They were unlocked. Slipping his fingers into the plastic groove, he gingerly opened them and stepped out into the night.
Sure enough, there was a darkened silhouette leaning against the railing, facing away from him and looking out over the twinkling lights below.
“Nori,” Jotaro sighed in relief, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. It was stupid of him to have been so worried. Still, he couldn’t help how defensive he had become since his time in Egypt. He began to walk over to his boyfriend, hoping he could comfort his lover if the redhead had woken up from another bad dream, but abruptly stopped in his tracks.
Something was wrong.
Slowly, the figure turned around and half-stepped out of the shadows, bright moonlight illuminating a pale face. A face that definitely did not belong to Noriaki Kakyoin.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Jotaro,” the figure chuckled, fangs poking over green lips as he stared down the young Joestar. “Now, now -- there’s no need to look so upset.”
“Dio,” Jotaro spat, the name spilling from his lips like venom. The vampire only smirked in response, taking another step, much larger this time, in the brunet’s direction.
Dio placed his left hand upon his hip, the other reaching up to flick his blonde hair. It was clear that he was taunting Jotaro, goading the young man on without actually vocalizing it.
Jotaro could feel violent rage coursing through him. How was this bastard still alive? He had watched the vampire crumble into dust in Egypt. In vivid detail, he remembered the satisfaction that had washed over him as Dio’s ashes had mixed with the desert sand in the early morning sunlight.
He refused to let this monster terrorize he and his loved ones again.
With a powerful roar, Jotaro summoned Star Platinum from the depths of his boiling hatred. He could feel his jaw clench along with his fingers, and both he and his stand lunged forward, their right fists landing a direct hit in Dio’s solar plexus.
There was a satisfying sound of flesh ripping as the combined strength of stand and user tore through Dio’s unsuspecting form. Jotaro didn’t stop until his curled fingers emerged on the other side of the vampire’s body. It only took for an instant for hot, warm blood to start making its way in small rivers down Jotaro’s extended arm. His chest was still heaving with exertion when he heard something whispered from above.
“Jotaro.”
The brunet’s eyes snapped up toward the sound. That voice, it didn’t sound like Dio.
It wasn’t.
Kakyoin was the one who stared back at him, expression as cold as the night air brushing against their skin. Jotaro’s eyes widened and his arms began to shake as he watched blood pool in the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth.
“N-Nori…?” Jotaro managed to choke out. Noriaki’s eyes narrowed in response.
“How could you do this to me?” He sputtered, his soft red bang swaying as he shook his head. “I thought you loved me.”
Jotaro’s throat was completely dry. This couldn’t be possible. There was no mistaking that the person standing in front of him just moments before was Dio. This had to be some sort of trick on the vampire’s part. A breeze picked up, making their hair dance as the boys continued to stare at each other in silence.
“I-I,” Jotaro managed uselessly. The brunet couldn’t remember how words worked.
A strangled sounding cough cut through the tense atmosphere, and Jotaro felt hot drops splattering across his cheeks as Kakyoin heaved above him. The lump in his throat increased as the warmth dripped down his lips and left a metallic taste in his mouth.
“You’re a murderer,” the younger gurgled, gesturing weakly to Jotaro’s blood-soaked arm. “How can you live with yourself?”
Jotaro was frenzied at this point. He wanted to explain himself, to tell Kakyoin that it was an accident, that he would never intentionally hurt the smaller man. But his lips remained soundless, and any words that could have formed were instantly strangled by the tightness in his throat.
It was then that Kakyoin turned his head away from Jotaro, his nose crinkling as he did so.
“I don’t want you to be the last thing I see.”
With that, the redhead went completely limp. Jotaro let out a strangled cry as he wrapped his left arm around Kakyoin’s waist to prevent his dead-weight from sliding. Grief-stricken, he stumbled backwards, his broad shoulders scraping up against the stucco of the apartment exterior. Jotaro couldn’t help the trembles that began to wrack his body, and he slid down the wall until he landed on his knees, still tightly gripping his boyfriend’s lifeless form.
“Please wake up,” he pleaded, at last removing his right fist from the gaping hole he had created in Kakyoin’s abdomen. He raised his bloodied palm to gently cup the smaller man’s cheek. “What am I supposed to do without you?” Gently, he ran his thumb over Kakyoin’s closed eyes, tears finally overflowing and splashing on his boyfriend’s lifeless face.
Jotaro squeezed his eyes shut and pulled Kakyoin’s body close. There was so much blood. It dripped over Jotaro’s fingers and pooled between his bare toes, a hot contrast to his frozen heart. When he inhaled, he could feel it entering his nostrils and coating his lungs. His lips parted so he could try to breathe, but he was met with heat and salt forcing its way down his trachea. He was drowning. He opened his eyes, and all he could see was red.
For the second time that night, Jotaro woke up to a pounding heart and sweat-soaked sheets.With a sharp inhale, he brought his right hand up to his face. The moonlight shone through his bedroom window, lighting his skin in a soft glow. There wasn’t any blood in sight. After twisting his arm around a couple of times to make sure it was clean, he let out the breath he was holding and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Good grief,” Jotaro muttered. “It was all a dream…” Sighing, he once again rolled over to face Kakyoin’s side of the bed, putting his arm out to touch the redhead as he did so. His attempt was met with emptiness. The smaller wasn’t there.
Cold realization hit Jotaro with more force than any stand user’s attack ever could.
Noriaki Kakyoin had died back in Egypt.
Jotaro grabbed the cold blankets with his fist, twisting them in his grip. Even with his mind full of sleepy fog, how could he have forgotten? Knuckles whitening, he choked back a sob and stared at the place where his boyfriend could have been.