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Jotaro Kujo stood on the beach, utterly alone.
This was what he wanted- far up the shore, past the dunes, if he squinted his eyes hard enough he could probably see warm light illuminating the patio of the condo Joseph had rented out. If he listened hard enough, he could probably have heard the sounds of celebration- Joseph and Polnareff's shared boisterous laughter, cheering and shouting over the loss or win of another round of cards; a playlist of songs curated solely for Jotaro- he appreciated the gesture but it was being played too loud over tinny speakers that blew out the bass; reruns of old American baseball games on the TV for unneeded background noise; Holly, Avdol and Kakyoin standing around on the porch discussing something, looking both polite and heated all at once. A neighbor's dog was barking.
He needed out.
Excused himself the only real way he knew how- a brief "need some air" and a gently slammed door. No one followed.
Light from the crescent moon, too dim to fully illuminate his surroundings, dark enough to see the endless sky full of stars, but bright enough to reflect a silvery halo on the water as it touched the shore. Below where the moon hung, patches of light rippled and distorted the shape of incoming waves.
If he turned his body away from the moon, the sea and sky became one- black night speckled with stars melting into an even inkier liquid darkness at the horizon.
Nineteen.
He was nineteen years old now.
His eighteenth birthday had been spent in the hospital- the day came and went like any other in the blur of recovery and nobody including himself had noticed until months later, when scars had healed over and stitches had been removed and physical therapy was in full swing. His mother had cried about it for an entire afternoon. He didn't… care. There were more important things to worry about at the time than… the passage of time. avdol and kakyoin finally allowed visitors, allowed to share a room, spending all their time together reading shitty books and watching even shittier movies and laughing and joking and pretending they hadn't grazed the surface of death leaving ripples in their wake- ripples that left the pair of them permanently changed, permanently and irreversibly different. we're fine, they said. jotaro could still see the grief behind kakyoins eyes and even though he couldnt read avdol as well as polnareff could they still talked about it later, sharing shitty cigs on the front step of the building when visiting hours had ended and they had gotten kicked out. jotaro had more to worry about than turning eighteen.
Partially as an apology and partially to give him something to do, something to get him out of the hospital at all hours of the afternoon, Joseph had enrolled him in marine biology courses. Paid in full- something he couldn't (wouldn't) dare argue with, even if he had wanted to. It was… weird, to have something to look forward to. Something to hope for that wasn't just walking into a hospital room and still seeing his friends alive. Something to occupy his mind more than stop my heart he has to think im dead I have to stay still I cant breathe I cant move he has to think im dead oh god hes going to kill me anyway-
Jotaro shook his head, something akin to a light flick on the forehead bringing him back to the present, the sound of rolling waves coaxing him forward. He didn't quite lose his balance but felt lightheaded regardless, and dismissed his stand with a frustrated wave of a hand through its form. "Leave me alone, Star."
He hated when it did that. Acted without him knowing. Without him asking. What does it mean when the facet of your soul built for fighting, for hurting things, acted of its own volition? How was he supposed to trust something like that, when he couldn't even trust himself?
He didn't like having physical proof that Star could kill him any time it wanted to, if it wanted to.
It could stop him from killing himself- ricochet bullet-heat kickback from the gun a rush of air expecting pain expecting blood the fear on his mother's face the last thing he was ever going to see smoke fades the sensation of metal pinched between fingers a minor burn on index and thumb and nothing else except a beating heart and panting breath- but it could kill him, too. Could kill him before he even knew what was happening. Could have its big careful steady hands in his or anyone else's ribcage without even a spark of intention on Jotaro's part. How was he supposed to trust himself with something like that? How could he ever relax again?
Some part of his brain, small and way in the back, felt bad for thinking about Star Platinum this way. It had done more than just mindless destruction- it was also built for protecting things. He could feel it somewhere in the vague space of his mind that his stand occupies when it's not manifested, shrinking itself down to something less overbearing. Something like regret flooded his veins. Star Platinum was not an evil spirit the way he initially thought it was, but it also had a hunger, deep down. A hunger Jotaro didn't much care to think about. A hunger that had resulted in the occasional visible smoke on his breath regardless of temperature or presence of a cigarette and golden manacles around their wrists. A hunger that had resulted in bite marks- the back of Kakyoin's head when Star ripped Hierophant from the body of the school nurse; and once, agonizingly, in the meat of Kakyoin's forearm as a result of letting their stands interact unsupervised. Hierophant, guilty over Kakyoin's reaction to their shared pain, rubbing its own forearm and patting Star on the cheek like a scolded animal.
His stand's teeth were sharp- not like a vampire, but like a monster all the same. Sometimes he refused to look in the mirror for fear his own would look the same.
It hovered in front of his face again, waving a hand in front of his eyes and drawing him back to reality once more.
"I said leave me alone." Jotaro bit out around teeth he was still hoping weren't sharp and pushed his hands against his stand's chest.
Wounded, but not physically, Star drifted back and faded out of sight, a whale sinking back into the pelagic depths.
Jotaro took a slow breath and tried to focus again on the steady sound of crashing waves. There was still water in his ear from hours ago- during the day, sun high in the sky and surrounded by his friends, a wave bigger, stronger than he expected had nearly bowled him over, drawing out a seldom-given genuine unexpected laugh from deep in his chest.
It was dark now, and he was alone. The light of the moon turned everything pale and silvery and otherworldly. Jotaro took a step forward into the surf, feet bare but not bothering to roll up his pants. Saltwater soaked into wool and made them heavy, but he trudged forward.
The water lapped around his feet- the deeper he got, the harder it got to keep his balance. Sturdy as he usually felt, he was now insignificant in the vastness of it all- the sea, the sky, the everything. He could just keep walking, if he wanted to. Keep walking until the shore sloped downward and the continental shelf fell away into the depths, keep walking until the surf engulfed him entirely and he became one with the environment. Keep walking until the idea of things like friends and enemies and stands and destiny and guilt and murder were far behind him and the only thing he had left to worry about was the amount of air left in his lungs and how it would feel to drown. To be reborn, this time as something small and insignificant and unimportant. Starfish never had to save the world from The World.
The alcohol in his system was probably just reacting poorly with one or three of the meds he was on, the ones with names he couldn't dream of pronouncing and a list of side effects that sounded like an average Tuesday for a guy like him.
Nineteen years old and already on medication for heart failure.
He was hit, suddenly, with the urge to scream.
Didn't act on it, obviously, but it pounded away so strongly in his chest, somewhere close to his heart. He wanted to scream, to shout out into the universe all of the horrible things bouncing around echoing in his mind about accidentally killing loved ones or accidentally-on-purpose killing himself or not being strong enough for anyone or becoming just as bad as Dio or stopping time for all eternity and never looking back. He wanted to hit something, to come out of this situation bruised and bloody-knuckled, though the only foe before him was something incomprehensible and indescribable. Incorporeal. Could you kill something as intangible as existential dread?
Kakyoin would probably laugh at him if he were here.
If he were here.
He was here. Somewhere barely a kilometer behind him, probably laughing at a joke Avdol made or making some dumb-mean-fond comment about Polnareff's card strategy or lack thereof or fashion choice or existence.
Somewhere Jotaro was not.
Somewhere Jotaro needed to avoid like the plague, right now.
Kakyoin… he'd know. If he were here. He had a fucking uncanny talent for being able to crack through Jotaro's careful exterior shell like a sea otter to an urchin. Jotaro didn't need to be known, didn't need to be seen. He needed to get away from it all.
He was being ungrateful. This was a night meant for him, and he was out alone on the sand pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes and letting the salt water soak his shins.
He closed his eyes. Tried to picture a reef, the way he saw off the coast of Egypt (don't think about it too hard, remember the good ignore the bad): calm waters crystal clear, schools upon schools of butterflies and damsels and tang and chromis, sergeant major humphead wrasse rusty parrot great barracuda. All weaving in and out and between the vibrant orange-purple-red of healthy corals, built upon generations and generations of bones. He felt like that, sometimes, a living reef held up on the bones of ancestors long-dead.
A flash of an old recurring nightmare bubbling up to the surface- a boat, a cruise, burning alive. Desperate struggle for air, for life, trying to make a sound and only hearing the bubbling wheeze of air and blood. Pain around his throat, something slithering and invasive, parasitic, wormlike and hostile, instinctively putting hands up in front of his face and catching something heavy, something that rips and tears and screams and though he knows he should feel fear and rage and righteous fury, he feels love. Warm in his chest and so, so achingly sad. An explosion. He did not hate his tormentor, his murderer, though he knew he had every right to do so. Cradled his brother's head in his arms as he hissed and spat and accepted the end for both of them.
The reef turned sour- abandoned by fish corals pale white bleached water murky-dark mud. A kelp forest turned to urchin barrens overnight, populations left unchecked and running rampant. A face pressing up from the ground, teeth made from rocks hard as diamond opening up to swallow them whole. Crushed beneath the molars, pressurized cylinder explosion making his ears ring.
Jotaro came up for air again, cold saltwater sting of the night wind burning his throat in a way not dissimilar to inhaling the blood and smoke in his dream.
He coughed, unexpectedly unable to catch his breath.
A wave slammed into his legs, buckling him at the knees.
He fell back, catching himself on wrists that ached with the weight, scar tissue pulling and straining against the movement. Palms scraped on sand, soft shifting grains concealing a layer of broken shells beneath. A breath hissed out through his teeth and he sat back in the water, cradling his arms to his chest and letting the water crest gently this time over his lap.
Feeling childish at the reaction to skinned palms when he had already survived so much worse, he tilted his head toward the sky, so far back that wet strands of his hair tickled the space between his shoulder blades.
A shooting star arced above him, so quick he thought he might have imagined it.
Tears sprung up in his eyes against his wishes, spilling out over his temples and into his hair. He blinked rapidly, surprised at himself, and tore his gaze away from the stars, fixing his line of sight on the invisible horizon instead.
He dug the still-stinging heels of his hands into his eyes so hard that static bloomed behind his eyelids. The tears stubbornly refused to cease.
He was so focused on trying to stop them that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late.
"Jotaro, honey, are you ok?"
The sweetness in her voice turned almost sour with worry, freezing him to his core.
don't turn around don't let her see your face she doesn't need to know she doesn't you're stronger than this make her go away it'll hurt her but thats okay because she'll still be alive-
"M'fine, mom," voice flat. Unreadable. Barely audible above the waves. "Go back."
Unreadable to anyone in the world except Holly Kujo. He could practically feel the shift in the air as she put her hands on her hips. He could never fool her.
Didn't need to look to see her pursed lips, eyebrows arced with worry, could feel her gaze burning into the back of his head.
He pulled his hat down over his eyes and brought his knees to his chest. "Go away." He tried to call up the old easy bite in his voice, but closing his eyes only brought visions of his mother cold and pale on the kitchen floor, vines strangling her with intent to kill. Some selfish part of him didn't want her to leave- never wanted her to leave again.
A gentle hand came to rest on his back, manicured nails playing with the strands of hair at his neck. The warmth from her hand melted through the cold-crusting saltwater on the collar of his jacket. "Honey," she started, crouching down to peer under the brim of his hat with the tilt of her head. He drew his shoulders up to his ears and turned away, but he couldn't hide from her. "Jotaro, are you crying?"
"No," he responded in a traitorously wobbly voice.
"Oh, baby," Holly's voice softened and she sat down in the sand next to him, not caring about the water soaking her pants. The hand on his back rested lower, tracing slow warm circles anywhere she could reach. The softness, the kindness- not at all unexpected, but overwhelming all the same. He couldn't remember the last time his mother actually saw him cry- something akin to a skinned knee, a ruined toy, a late-night conversation about his father, sometime before the apathy and the brick wall and the pretending he was tougher than he actually felt. Not for the first time tonight, Jotaro felt childish. Childish for crying, and childish for trying to hide that fact from his mother.
The floodgates fell with a crash- a huge, heaving sob wracked his frame as he curled into himself, trying with all his might to hold it back.
Holly's soft hand on his back became a more solid hold on his shoulder as she pulled him toward her. He gave into the lean willingly and rested his head on her shoulder, trying so hard not to let his uncontrolled suddering jostle her too much.
Sometime later, when the chill of the water had seeped into his bones and the feeling of sand against his skin became something unbearable, he found himself able to speak again.
"I love you. I'm sorry. I love you."
"Don't apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry for," she pulled the hat off of his head, and before he could protest (as if he would ever dream of doing so again-) pressed a kiss to his hairline. "I love you too. You know I do."
"I know you do," he mumbled, automatic. And he did know. Would never let her think otherwise ever again.
A cloud passed over the moon, then, bathing them in darkness. In the comfort of the shadow, the waves began to dance. Every small motion drew out hundreds- thousands- of tiny creatures, glowing electric blue in the dim light. Holly gasped- the tiniest intake of air- and Jotaro could hear the smile in her breath as she leaned her head against his shoulder this time.
They sat in silence, mother and son, watching the night sky reflected in the sea in more ways than one. Dinoflagellate swarm swelled and bloomed around them, dancing bioluminescence anchoring them to the here and now. Schools of tiny fish swirled around their legs, leaving glowing trails in their wake. They were alive, both of them, here to witness a facet of the fathomless depths- not a rare occurrence but special all the same.
Holly was the first one to break the silence when the plankton had mostly moved on, drawn further down the shore by the current. Her whisper was not directed at her son, rather shot over her shoulder as she pushed herself to her feet, dusting wet sand and leftover tiny glowing blue specks away as best she could.
"Garden, would you please be a dear and let everyone else know we're okay?"
Her stand took shape behind her, tangle of vines coalescing into something humanoid. Despite being built entirely of spring-green thorns and pink-red berries, Love Is A Garden looked shockingly similar to its user when it took human-shape, a botanical clone of Holly Kujo. It blinked glowing pinprick eyes and nodded, turning its back on them and walking back to the condo.
Jotaro tried not to bristle at his mother's easy relationship with her stand. The thing had tried to kill her, yet she still treated it with the same easy kindness she gave to any other person. Despite her insistence that it (she, Holly always insisted-) had never meant to kill her, was only trying to do its job and protect her (the sickness was from Dio, always from Dio, never from her stand), Jotaro still found it hard to separate the vines curled gently around his mother's wrist, always connecting her to her stand, from the vision of those same vines all but strangling her, thorns dug deep into skin and berries growing shiny and perfect and tempting and mocking (the same way he couldn't separate the vision of Star's hands with the feeling of heart stop breath tight death, death, death-).
As she walked along the shore, all organic physicality and none of the usual ethereal ghostliness of stands' movement, Garden stopped. She was standing next to- oh.
Star Platinum was sitting in the sand, far behind its user, legs curled to its chest in an eerily similar imitation to the way Jotaro had been sitting before Holly arrived. They had their chin on their knees, staring miserably down at the torn skin on their palms. As Garden arrived, Star looked up at her and winced, almost appearing embarrassed. She put a hand on his head, ruffling the galaxy mane in a way that made him smile. A small thing, nowhere near their usual blinding grin. Garden reached up to her own shoulder, then, plucking something there, and passed Star a small handful of the tiny salmon-pink berries. It looked up at her with big curious eyes as she patted his shoulder, a reflection of mother and son, and continued up toward the building.
Star stared down at the berries in its hands for a moment longer, shot a quick shy glance to where Jotaro and Holly were sitting. Holly offered him a small wave, and Star waved back before popping the berries into its mouth.
Jotaro hissed, air through his teeth, as he felt the sensation of peroxide poured on an open wound. A burning warmth pooled around his palms, and he brought his hands up to watch as the wounds partially stitched themselves closed. Fresh, raw, pink skin pushed granules of sand and broken fragments of shell out of the cuts. They weren't fully healed, raw to the touch and itched like crazy, but at the very least they were clean.
Holly smiled, sheepish. "That one's hard to practice. I don't want anyone getting hurt on purpose for my behalf."
Something about the absurdity of it all- a combination of his stinging palms, his mother's sheepish grin talking about practicing with her stand, the feeling of cold-wet clothes sticking to skin buffered only by grains of sand, the beauty of the night air and the plankton and the sea- made tears spring to the corners of his eyes again. He pushed himself to his feet, sturdy this time, and wiped his eyes with the back of a hand and a small laugh. When had he become such a crybaby?
Holly, attention drawn by the movement, turned and hit him with a full-force hug, burying her face in his shoulder. Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his jacket. "I love you so much. No matter what, I never want you to forget that."
He hugged her back, chin on her head, almost fully enveloping her with his arms but feeling so small at the same time.
Holly stood on her toes, pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Happy birthday, Jotaro."
Another falling star passed overhead, unnoticed by everyone.