Work Text:
Kakyoin had found a semblance of peace in his life as a prison guard after the chaos of the past. Years had passed since he had clung to life, and now he dedicated himself to maintaining order behind bars. He had learned to appreciate the quiet moments, the mundane routines that filled his days. But that tranquility was shattered the moment he found himself in the midst of a struggle in the prison hallway.
Jolyne, a fierce and determined prisoner, was known for her many escape attempts. Today was no different, and as Kakyoin rounded the corner, he saw her on the floor, grappling with a familiar figure—Jotaro Kujo. Kakyoin’s heart raced as he realized who was trying to restrain her. “Dad!” Jolyne yelled, desperation lacing her voice. Kakyoin looked up, and for the first time in years, he met the gaze of Jotaro, a face he thought he would never see again.
“No…” Jotaro whispered, disbelief etched across his features. His eyes darted between Kakyoin, the prison guard who had unknowingly become a part of his daughter's life, and Jolyne, who was struggling against the handcuffs being forced upon her. “Dad, come on, help!” she pleaded, her eyes wide with fear and frustration. Kakyoin felt a rush of conflicting emotions; he was just doing his job, yet here was Jotaro, a man he once fought alongside, now standing before him in a moment of chaos. Unbeknownst to Kakyoin, Jolyne was not just another prisoner—she was the daughter of the man he had once called a friend, and the weight of that realization hung heavily in the air.
Kakyoin's mind raced as he struggled to process the reality of the situation. He had fought so hard to survive, to find peace, and now here he was, confronted by Jotaro and his daughter in a chaotic moment. It felt surreal, like a dream he couldn't wake up from.
As he zoned out, trying to convince himself that this was real and not a figment of his imagination, he lost his grip on Jolyne. In a flash, she slipped away, her determination fueling her escape. She sprinted towards Jotaro, her voice filled with frustration and hurt. “You wouldn’t save me!” she exclaimed, her eyes brimming with emotion.
Jotaro stood there, frozen between disbelief and concern. He looked at Kakyoin, searching for answers, while Kakyoin found himself unable to meet his gaze. He stared down at the floor, grappling with the weight of his past and the unexpected reunion. The silence between them was thick, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings, as Jolyne’s cries echoed in the corridor, a reminder of the bonds that had been forged and the ones that had been broken. Kakyoin felt the tension in the air as Jotaro turned to Jolyne, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition. “Jolyne, who is this?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. Jolyne squinted from a distance, trying to decipher the name on the guard’s tag. “Guard Noriaki… Noriaki Kakyoin?” she stammered, struggling with the unfamiliarity of Japanese names.
Jotaro’s mind raced as he processed her words. The name struck a chord deep within him, and he quickly pulled out his wallet. Jolyne leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. As she peered over, her eyes widened at the sight of a rolled-up picture. Jotaro’s finger rested right under the face of a red-haired boy, and in that moment, the pieces began to fall into place. Kakyoin’s past, intertwined with Jotaro’s own, was revealing itself in ways he never anticipated. The memories flooded back, and the realization that this was not just a guard, but a part of their shared history, hung heavily in the air.
Jotaro's gaze was piercing as he looked back at Kakyoin, who seemed lost in his own thoughts, disconnected from the moment. Jotaro instinctively stepped in front of Jolyne, shielding her as if to protect her from the weight of the revelation. “How did you survive? Dio killed you back there,” he asked, his voice flat, yet a hint of worry crept in.
Kakyoin struggled to find the words, his mind racing. “I don’t know the answer myself. The Speedwagon Foundation took me in.” He avoided Jotaro's gaze, looking everywhere but at the man standing before him.
“Dad?” Jolyne tugged at Jotaro's sleeve, her voice soft and childlike. “I haven’t asked you why you’re here.” She looked up at him, searching for connection. In her mind, a wave of frustration washed over her. ‘He never looks at me.. He’s always busy with something else.. He’ll never change, will he?’ she thought, but she quickly snapped out of it, focusing back on the moment, trying to understand the complicated dynamics unfolding before her.
Jolyne slowly stepped out of the hall, her heart heavy as the conversation between Jotaro and Kakyoin faded into the background. Doubts swirled in her mind, each one more troubling than the last. "Does he not love me? Or does he love me way too much he can’t stand me?" The questions gnawed at her as she walked to the hall adjacent to them, seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment.
Sliding down against the wall, she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. As she sat there, memories began to flood her mind—vivid recollections of the times her dad had shared stories about his trip to Egypt. She could almost hear his voice, recounting the adventures he had experienced and the hardships he had faced. He had always emphasized how he would never allow her to suffer like he did, a promise that lingered in her heart.
Yet, in that moment of reflection, Jolyne felt a growing distance between them. The warmth of those memories clashed with the cold reality of her father's apparent preoccupation. She wondered if his protective nature was a barrier that kept him from truly connecting with her. As she sat there, the weight of her thoughts pressed down on her, and she realized that while he may have fought to shield her from pain, it seemed to come at the cost of their bond. Would he ever truly see her, or would she always remain a shadow in his life?
He promised he’d never let me be in pain… yet he did. Jolyne dug her face into her knees, feeling the weight of her emotions crash down on her. While her father had suffered physically, she was trapped in a different kind of suffering—one that was mental and emotional. The absence of her father felt like a wound that refused to heal, hurting more than ever.
At just six years old, Jolyne was caught in the chaos of her home life. She could hear her mother on the phone, her voice rising in anger, cursing her father for his absence. "He’s never here for you or for me!" she shouted, her frustration boiling over. The threats of divorce echoed in Jolyne's mind, a concept so foreign yet terrifying to her young heart.
Then, everything spiraled out of control. As the argument reached a fever pitch, Jolyne felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, and before she knew it, she fell unconscious. In that moment, she heard her mother’s worried screams, a haunting sound that lingered in her ears.
When she finally woke up, the sterile smell of the hospital filled her senses. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she blinked against the bright lights. "Daddy’s never here… where is Daddy?" The young Jolyne asked herself, searching for answers in a world that felt increasingly uncertain and lonely.
Tears poured out her eyes as she remembered all the moments she just wanted to be loved by her father, as he chose others over her. She jumped as she heard her father's loud, emotionless voice, “Get up, Jolyne. We’re leaving.” She tilted her head up to see her father, feeling a wave of defiance rise within her. No, I don’t want to leave my friends like how you left me, she thought to herself.
“No,” Jolyne mumbled out, “I don’t want to.” Jotaro looked at her in a mix of shock and tiredness, “Look Jolyne… I’m way too tired for you, I just finished talking to an old friend.” Jotaro sighed and pinched his nose, and in that moment, Jolyne felt the familiar sting of rejection.
Of course you don’t have any more energy for me. You never do, she thought bitterly. “Of course you don’t want to have the energy to talk to me,” she mumbled out, regret flooding her. Shit, stupid Jolyne, never thinking. Why did I say that?
Jolyne dug her face deeper into her knees as her father's gaze burned into her, feeling the weight of unspoken words and emotions hanging heavily in the air between them. Jotaro stood there for a moment, silence stretching between them like an unbridgeable chasm. Jolyne could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. She wished she could take back her words, erase the hurt that lingered in his eyes.
“Jolyne,” he finally said, his voice softer but still tinged with exhaustion, “I’m not leaving you. I just need some time.” But those words felt hollow to her. Time? What about the time he had already lost with her?
“Time for what?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Time for more friends? More conversations that don’t involve me?” Her heart ached with the weight of her feelings, the longing for a connection that seemed so far out of reach.
Jotaro looked away, and in that moment, Jolyne realized that the distance between them was more than just physical; it was emotional, built on years of misunderstandings and unmet expectations. She wanted to scream, to make him understand the pain of feeling invisible, but instead, she remained silent, trapped in her own turmoil.
Jotaro hesitated, glancing at the phone before looking back at Jolyne, a mixture of frustration and concern on his face. “Jolyne, it’s not like that,” he started, but she cut him off, her voice rising with emotion.
“Just go! Just take the call and leave me here like you always do!” Her words were sharp, filled with the hurt she had been holding back for so long. She felt a mix of anger and sadness, wishing desperately for him to see her pain.
As Jotaro finally answered the call, Jolyne turned away, feeling the tears well up again. She wanted to scream, to make him understand how lonely it felt to be in a room with someone who was physically present yet emotionally absent. In that moment, she realized that her father’s world was filled with his own struggles, but so was hers. She just wished they could find a way to share those burdens instead of letting them drive them apart.
Jolyne's heart sank as she thought about the implications of that call. It was never just a phone call; it was another moment lost, another chance to connect slipping away. “You’re missing out on my life, Dad,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s not just about the phone ringing or who’s on the other end. It’s about us, about everything we’re not talking about.”
She felt the weight of her words hang in the air, hoping he would understand that it wasn’t just about the call; it was about the distance that seemed to grow wider with every unanswered conversation. She wanted him to see that every time he chose to step away, he was choosing to miss out on her life, her struggles, and her triumphs.
Jotaro stood there for a moment, still holding the phone, his focus shifting to the conversation with Josuke. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” he said, his voice steady and calm, as if the weight of Jolyne's words hadn’t reached him at all.
Jolyne felt a surge of frustration boiling inside her as she watched him turn away, his back to her. It was as if her cries had fallen on deaf ears, drowned out by the casual banter he shared with someone he seemed to care about more. “You don’t even see me, do you?” she whispered to herself, feeling the sting of rejection wash over her.
As he walked away, she realized that this wasn’t just about a phone call; it was about the years of feeling overlooked, the moments he had chosen to prioritize others over her. In that instant, Jolyne felt a deep sense of loneliness, a longing for her father to truly see her, to recognize her pain and her existence.