Chapter Text
The lecture from his mother wasn't one of true anger. It was barely scolding. It was just hurt. But it had all happened so quickly, all moved so fast that Jotaro barely had the time to pick up his computer for work, let alone his phone for a call. Not with his mother at least. Moving vans and judges took up most of his minutes. His ex-wife and the foundation took up the rest. Every spare minute in his life was dedicated to settling his daughter after the move, not an easy feat for a man with the emotional cadence of a brick. He was aware of his flaws.
His mother seemed more stressed that he didn't bother to tell her about Jolyne’s “hospital” visit. Not good on his part, but he was so wrapped up with tending to her fever and teaching her all the lessons about stand use that he did not get, that it was in the back of his mind by the time his mother got round to ringing him.
“I'm already at the airport Jotaro, if you don't tell me at least the town you live in, I'll get on the plane and fly to who knows where,” She threatened, it was empty from both sides. He wouldn't let her, she wouldn't. At least at 60, he liked to think she wouldn't.
Jotaro ran his hands through his hair in lieu of tugging his hat. It had just turned 6am on a Saturday. The rest of the house was still in deep sleep, but here was him and his mother – he had to get the early bird trait from somewhere, he supposed.
“The town's called Morioh, in S-City.” His voice low, in stress, annoyance and not wanting to wake the slumbering home.
“Okaay~ S-City. The next plane looks to be in about an hour. I'll be on it JoJo. I love you.” All the upset in her voice had washed away, and back was his cheery mother. He couldn't help but sigh away the stress and smile.
“You too.”
As the following hours ticked on, Jotaro knew he needed to prepare the rest of the house for his mother's imminent arrival. He turned on the coffee machine; that normally got people up. Jolyne woke first, 7:30 sharp, padding from her downstairs bedroom. There had been a big discussion on which one to give her when they moved. Josuke had chosen the downstairs one for her. It was slightly smaller than the other rooms in the house, but had a gorgeous bay window into the garden. He was right to pick that one. She sat there for hours looking past the back streets of Morioh.
“Morning dad,” She murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes. He looked her over; she was so small and precious, he was worried one strong blow of wind would be the final straw. That one bad day and she'd come crumbling down. She'd been so strong during everything, the court hearings, the packing, the move. She cried a lot, but none of them thought that equated to her strength. She still picked up her things and travelled with her father across the world. That was strength in Jotaro's eyes.
“Mornin’ Starfish.”
It took time for Jolyne to settle. Even now, she was still wary, still asked to go to the toilet, still sat until she was told she could go. But slowly it got better. She at least now felt confident enough to get herself a bowl of cereal.
The coffee machine came to a lull, the rumble of the heating components slowed. Quiet fell, he breathed it in. Still so long to go for people to settle into a new normal. But at times like this, it felt right. His daughter, spoon in one hand, book in the other. Him, a cup of coffee warming his brain and soul. And the sound of soft footsteps up in the hall. Jotaro smiled into the cup. He couldn't help it.
The second cup of coffee was already on the table when Rohan finally made his way to the kitchen. It had probably gotten too cold for his liking, but he didn't regard it as he stepped through the door. Eyes flitting over Jolyne's book, voice directed towards her father.
“You were on the phone this morning,” He stated, posing the question of ‘to who?’ as a statement of fact. Jotaro complied.
“Mum's coming down.”
Sharp looks from both the man and child in front of him. Not cutting or aggressive, just the way they looked.
Jolyne broke the stare first. “GRANNY’S COMING?” She dropped her book on the table, empty bowl of cornflakes disregarded, and ran over to Jotaro, who just smiled and nodded. Jolyne never got to see Holy much. Too far out of the way for both parties. Jotaro made a vow to change that when he planned the move. An empty vow until his mother made the first step.
“She's making her way to S-City station, should be there in a few hours. Said she’ll call me when she gets off the plane.” Despite the matter-of-fact tone in his voice, Jotaro was honestly overjoyed to see his little girl light up, truly, for the first time in weeks. She’d been happy when they had a stand meeting to introduce her to the other users, she’d been happy when Josuke and his cohort took her on a fun-filled day out, or whenever Rohan sat down with her to do her hair. But nothing truly lit her up until this. He’d make sure she could see Holy more in the future, if only for the look on her face.
“Well then I suppose we better sort out the house,” Rohan had finally snapped out of his staring trance. “Go on Little JoJo, go get dressed so you can help me make up her room.” Sickly sweet, too sweet. Jolyne didn’t notice; ran off without a word. Jotaro let her, looked Rohan’s way, and sighed.
“I’m surprised you finally told her, I thought I’d be your ‘friend’ forevermore.” He moved with such grace, such elegance. Jotaro looked away, not daring to watch him rewarm his coffee on the stove, not saying a word, hoping the problem would go away.
“You have told her, haven’t you JoJo?”
What an interesting way to sew a hem, he thought, looking at the bottom of his loungewear top.
“Jotaro.”
“I hadn’t got round to it.”
“I see.” Jotaro knew that Rohan knew. From the minute he told the two. “I’ll sort you a room out too then. It’ll be like old times.” He joked with no humour.
He poured the coffee back in his mug and got to work, never a lackluster host.
“Hi mum.”
“OH JOJO!”
She flung herself into his arms in the middle of the train station, dropping everything she held. None of it mattered. She had her baby boy back in her arms. She held him tight, like he might disappear to another country. You couldn’t blame her.
Jotaro picked up the bags she had scattered, with Holy insisting on taking at least one.
“I carried them all the way here, Jotaro, I can handle myself,” She said when she tried taking the rest.
“I know, but you don’t need to now. I’ve got them.”
Holy’s face lit up; Jotaro felt the similar pang he got whenever Jolyne smiled. How on earth did he go his teenage years not appreciating the smiles of those he loved? He supposed he was still learning what an earth love meant back then. Still was now. But like with Jolyne settling in, he was still settling out. Outside of the little bubble he had blown, even if it wasn’t alone. Blowing it with someone just as antisocial didn’t help.
The car ride back to the house was mostly filled with Holy rattling on about life back in Tokyo. Talking about her work, his father, her knitting club she’d joined. Nothing of vital importance but still substantial in her life, Jotaro tried his best to keep up. It was like keeping up with Jolyne talking about her favourite show, Josuke with his favourite video game. A year and a half living in mundanity, and it still felt out of his depth. He thought about it, as his mother spoke. Her life was so normal. Even with the events a decade ago, her stand living proof she survived, her use of it in the most simple everyday tasks. It was so, his mother. Instead, he’d spent the last decade chasing down murderers and murderers' sons. Trying to abandon his daughter, falling in love for what felt like the first time, having his daughter handed back to him, no one else able to give her the home she deserved. And that was all in the last 3 years. In the last 3 years his mum had taken up knitting. He tried to think he wasn’t the weird one.
“Oh, what a gorgeous little town.” Holy beamed out the window of the car. Hands pressed up, practically itching to get out. Tokyo wasn’t a long way, but Jotaro knew his mother was never keen on travel. Wishing his father off at airports was more her speed. Sitting so still for so long, on the plane, the train, the car. It was clearly wearing on her.
He rounded the final corner, saw the house he now called home. Knowing inside was his daughter, his partner, soon him and his mother. Dread pooled in the back of his head, thick and black.
“You have told her, haven’t you JoJo?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. After everything, still a coward.
“We’re here.” The decibel louder than he normally murmured was enough to get the home’s attention. A clatter happened up the stairs, a man's shout of ‘JOLYNE!’, a little girl’s shout of ‘SORRY!’ as she ran through the hall, all but jumping down the stairs. Gappy grin so wide, it hurt Jotaro’s jaw just to look. So he looked away, up the stairs. That hurt slightly too. Seeing Rohan leaning against the wall, clearly ruffled. Dressed modestly, for him at least.
“Oh Jolyne darling.” Holy scooped the little girl up, despite her spindly limbs and tall stature. Holding her close in an all-encompassing hug, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” An all encompassing hug back. “I live here now Granny. I can visit you all I want.” The Jolyne special began, words too fast and large for her body to keep up, skipping half of sentences, running out of breath before starting back up again. No one could keep track of what she was talking about but Holy and Jotaro nodded along all the same.
In a small lull in Jolyne’s ramblings, a sharper voice cut through. “Delightful to see you, Seiko.” Rohan had slinked to the bottom of the stairs, standing tall and polite. They had met once before, in passing at Jotaro’s graduation. A polite handshake then she went off with her parents and he with his gaggle of teenagers, Jotaro divided between the two groups. A nice, simple, courteous meeting.
“Oh hello Rohan dear, how wonderful to see you here.” Holy pottered over, like they had seen each other everyday since, and that all encompassing hug was covering him now too. He was a fair bit taller than Holy but Jotaro could tell he felt dwarfed. Small. He put a hand on his mother’s arm, beckoning her away.
“This is his house, mum. Me and Jolyne, we’re just…” The curious eyes of his mother, the cutting ones of his beloved. “Staying here. For now.”
Disappointment was not a potent enough term. But Rohan hid it well. “I’ve made up a room for you upstairs.” Rohan spoke louder to compensate for Jolyne’s “I helped!” and “This one here!”
Just as Jotaro had begun the trek of luggage up the stairs, Rohan leant close to the banister, “Tonio had the table, by the way. Three or four people, he doesn’t mind. Just let me know and I’ll call him back.”
He pushed off the wall, elegant, harsh.
“Will do.”
Things slowly settled past the beginning hurrah. Holy unpacked her essentials, Jotaro hovering around her like a child, embarrassed to be with Rohan alone. It was mortifying really, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.
The three had settled in the kitchen now, coffee cups in hand. Jolyne between rooms as she saw fit. Conversation was comfortable enough, for a lug of a man, a self-centered charmer and the world's nicest woman. It was mostly between Holy and her son, talking about the last year, catching up on lost time. Rohan didn’t mind much, mind elsewhere, taking mental notes, observing.
“So Rohan, remind me what it is you do.” Holy pivoted the conversation so naturally, it caught both of the men off guard. There was a look. A regaining of composure. Who was the great Rohan Kishibe if not someone who could talk about himself forever?
“Ah, I’m a Mangaka.” and off he went, the Rohan special. Much like the Jolyne special, but poised and matured. No running out of breath, no talking in circles, but still barely any breaks. Like he was an actor and this kitchen was his stage. Jotaro couldn’t help but look at him a little gooey. Untrained. Rohan just had that effect on people. Well maybe not people, maybe just him. Maybe it’s why they worked so well together. Why the world felt like it was orbiting their strange, perfect, dynamic.
“Fascinating!”
“I’m aware.”
Jotaro couldn’t help but shake his head. A small fond smile, barely even noticeable, formed on his lips.
“So what was that about a table earlier then?” Holy smiled towards her son.
“Are we going to Mr Trussardis?” Jolyne started up again, began explaining the town’s favourite restaurant like she’d lived here her whole life. It was comforting really, knowing she would be okay.
“Oh goodness, I haven’t had Italian since I last visited Mama. Made by such a renowned chef too, oh Jotaro sweetie, won’t that be expensive?” Excitement soon dwindled into worry as it normally did with her little boy.
Rohan glanced over his coffee, eyes appearing to look past the table, into the space of nothingness.
“Don’t worry about it mum, honestly. Tonio and Rohan are attached at the hip. I’m sure we’ll have to even convince him to let us pay.” Jotaro comforted, earning a small, contented nod from his mother.
“Presumptuous.” The younger man huffed, “he most certainly won’t give you anything if I’m not there to schmooze him.”
“Well, I suppose you’ll have to come then, you don’t mind, do you mum?” Smart, very smart. A way of inviting him to this familial, close-knit dinner without outing him as part of the family. With Jotaro clearly feeling proud of himself when his mother replied, Rohan regarded Jolyne. Looking inquisitive between him and her father, all too knowing and not knowing enough. He exhaled.
Seiko was a nice woman. Too nice. To be honest he didn’t know if she had much going on up there. Nothing of much vitriol, that’s for certain. She was doting, caring, Jotaro was her world even after he reached 30. It was a stark contrast from Rohan’s own mother. Realistically, from his own experiences, he should be able to sympathise. To understand Jotaro’s fear of being open, of being free. He’d had the bad experiences. The family fights, the being kicked out, the general disdain. When he first moved to Morioh, he was a shut in. While he’d like to say it was all due to not needing other humans, being above them and their company, He could admit, to himself at least, a bit was fear. Away from home, he now didn’t need to fear the clothing he chose to wear, the makeup he adorned. But back then if he let people into his home, people like his mother, he might. He’s over that now. Morioh is full of them. He’s prideful in the fact he out-gays them all by a country mile, but still. Less to be scared off when they’re all like you.
Jotaro didn’t have that. He’s heard about his formative years, read bits and pieces when Jotaro felt particularly vulnerable. About his grandfather, his friends. Those 50 days seemed so, constant. Such little time for rest and reflection. It was sleep, eat, fight, repeat. No time to talk, to ruminate. Rohan didn’t doubt that Jotaro valued every single man he fought with on that trip, but there definitely seemed to be some trauma-formed trust between the men. Helpful at the time, but not so much in the long run. It’s something that Rohan noticed during the fight against Kira, many moons ago. Jotaro was strict, kept the kids in line and focused. But always gave them time, space, room to goof off and piss Rohan himself off. Josuke even had time to come and burn down his fucking house. Jotaro clearly wasn’t working them to the bone. It gave them time to flourish. To build relationships and value each other. To learn to value themselves. Discover themselves. In hindsight, it was probably because Jotaro was spread thin. Lawyers, his thesis, the foundation, work, the kids, his kid. But Rohan knew it helped the group of teens they both found themselves stuck with.
Jotaro and his mother were now deep in conversation, none of which Rohan had listened to or, at this point, particularly cared to jump into. He stretched out from his seat, much like a cat. His ankles, knees, back and wrists all clicked and clacked. Jolyne made a face with a big ‘ewwww’ sound, to which he rolled his eyes and the other adults smiled fondly.
“Ro-ro?” She looked up to him, eyes somehow still beady despite their bright blue colour.
He hummed in response and started to walk out the kitchen, Jolyne right on his tail.
“You okay? You look all sad and stuff.” Following him up the stairs and into his (and Jotaro’s on any other weekend) bedroom, Jolyne plopped on the large bed in the middle of the room.
She was a perceptive child, very in touch with her own and others emotions. Sometimes to a degree where Rohan didn’t quite know how to respond, which wasn’t great for her as her father wasn’t any better, but they both tried their best. However perceptive she may be, she was still Jotaro’s child. Subtlety did not come easy to the father daughter duo. They were blunt and straight to the point, it’s just Jolyne’s bluntness was normally about feelings and other awful things.
“I’m fine, just happy that your father and grandmother get to see eachother.” He opened his wardrobe and started rummaging through the clothes, occasionally looking back to see Jolyne tossing and turning on the bed.
“No you’re not. Why would that make you sad?”
He thought hard both about the garments in his hands and how he could respond to the little Joestar. He could tell her the truth, explain to her that her father is scared, why it’s making him upset. He could, but nothing good would come of it; it would just upset Jolyne, make her try and convince her dad that it's okay. Rohan wasn’t pleased about the whole ordeal but he wasn’t about to force Jotaro’s hand in this. Not through his daughter that's for certain.
“It just reminds me of my mother, that’s all.” He was hoping the conversation would end, that Jolyne would say a swift ‘okay.’ and be on her way.
“Is she dead?” He reminded himself subtlety did not come easy.
But he gauffed a bit at that, shook his head as the smile formed across his face. He had narrowed it down to two dresses, brought them out of the closet, and sat down next to Jolyne’s head.
“No, she isn’t dead. I don’t think so at least. I don’t speak to her anymore.” He was very matter of fact, there was no other way to be about it, he didn’t particularly care if she was still lounging in Kyoto or 6 feet under.
“Oh, that sucks. I’d miss if I couldn’t talk to mum.”
Rohan hummed. Eyes trained on the fabric in front of him.
“Is it ‘cause you love boys?”
Okay, he really needed to talk to Jotaro about her bluntness. Give the poor girl some lessons in tact.
“That it is.” He could just cut the dresses up and combine them, though he hadn’t sewn in a while.
“Granny’s not like that, it’d suck for dad if she was. So don’t think about your mum too much.” She sat up and gave him the most sincere smile she could muster– it was full of pity and care and all things that Rohan generally didn’t like. But he smiled back anyway, he couldn’t help himself. She was trying so hard.
“That’s good to know… Pink or Green?” He held the dresses up to show her, she eyed them with great consideration.
“Green. If you do my make-up, we can match! I have a dress a bit like that.” She jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs to her room, assumedly getting said dress. Rohan breathed out a little. Both in a prickling contentment in his heart and relief of being alone, if only for a few seconds.
“Hair?”
“Check.”
They struck a pose in the mirror.
“Make up?”
“Double check.”
And another.
“Style?”
“Triple check.”
“Well I’d say that the most dazzling people in the world are looking at us in this mirror then, wouldn’t you agree, Little Jojo?”
Jolyne giggled, she puffed up her parting a little more and gave her face a good once over.
Rohan had been meticulous. He always was. The first time he had done Jolyne’s make up was on the request of Jotaro. The girl didn’t trust him yet, and the oaf thought that the best way for them to get on was by forcing proximity. He hadn’t been right, of course, but Rohan found himself being oddly competitive with his own skills. He had done make up on other people before. Yukako made herself a regular in his house to learn new skills, in which she learnt nothing. Rohan did her make up, they drunk mocktails and bitched about their neighbours. Mostly Josuke. Rohan would partake in bitching about Okuyasu too, but the poor girl had taken a liking to him. That’s to say it’s not like this was a delicate matter to Rohan, but when the small Joestar sat in front of him for the first time, make up splayed over his counter, a seriousness took over him. He couldn’t place the feeling. Couldn’t make sense of why he felt like this needed to be the best makeup look he was capable of. Then Jolyne called her father in. And Jotaro leant against the door, eyes creased in that soft way that made Rohan queasy, flitting between his daughter’s colourful face and Rohan’s.
Now Rohan took every bonding activity he did with Jolyne as serious as work, and the two matching their outfits today was no different. Because when Jolyne called in her dad now, 2 years later, showing off her and Rohan, Jotaro made the exact same face. And Rohan very nearly forgot he was upset.