Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been only a few weeks since Jotaro arrived in Morioh, Japan. A smaller town on the outskirts of rural Japan. He was already overworking himself, with balancing his current biology work and the whole ordeal with Josephs half-mistake-half-he knew what he was doing child. The most awkward part of all was when Tomoko, Joseph’s baby mother, mistook Jotaro for Joseph.

Yare Yare… how does someone mistake a 28 year-old man for a man almost triple that? Joseph was an old geezer, and he knocked up some random lady. Now Jotaro had to deal with this. As always.

Rohan approached Jotaro, waving a slight hand up and putting on his signature grin that almost screamed ‘I don’t actually wanna be here, but you’re an elder, so I should respect you’. Which Jotaro didn’t mind, as when he was a little younger than Rohan, he did the same. Jotaro inwardly cringed when he thought of his younger self. An edgy teenager who disrespected his mother. Damn, he was immature.

“Kujo-san. How might you be?” Rohan asked politely. They weren’t awkward with each other, just more of allies. Jotaro was a little uneasy with Rohan, considering he had such a powerful stand.

“Oh—“ Jotaro cleared his throat as he got lost in his thoughts about Rohan’s stand and the adventures that Koichi had told him about. “I’m just fine, thank you for asking, Kishibe-kun.”

“Just Rohan is fine. No need to be so formal.” Rohan waved off the formality, placing a hand on his hip, with the other hand occupying a small beige sketchbook that was nestled between his arm and side, with the hand holding two pencils and an eraser. “We’re friends, right?” Rohan tilted his head slightly, his earring dangling down.

“You use the same level of formality with me. I only wish to return it.” Jotaro had recently been brushing up on his Japanese before this trip, as he didn’t wish to seem like a foreigner in the place where he was born. “I do appreciate the gesture, though.” Jotaro quickly added, trying to not seem unappreciative of a nicer act from Rohan, one he didn’t see when the man was with the kids.

Rohan chuckled and rolled his eyes, glancing over at a squirrel as it fell down a tree, blood falling from its hand. He quickly pulled out his sketchbook and drew it, his hand flying over the paper. Jotaro could only raise his eyebrows and adjust his hat down.

“Yes, yes! Capture that divine pose of agony! You’re mad— you just lost the love of your life! She pushed you off a building!” Rohan spoke, his tone theatrical as he raised his pencil to add the last details.

Jotaro peeked over his shoulder to look at his sketchbook, and it was a drawing in his mangaka style. It wasn’t bad by any means, it just reminded him of another piece he’d seen.

Jotaro shook his head in return, putting his hats visor down a bit and frowning, mumbling to himself. Yare Yare Daze… He mumbled. Jotaro was having a semi-positive day (which usually meant he wasn’t being fucked over yet, so that’s good) and didn’t wish for it to be ruined.

“Oh, Kujo-san. I’ve never asked. Where did you get that earring? I just noticed it a bit ago. I didn’t even know you had your ears pierced.” Rohan turned to face Jotaro, putting away his brush.

Jotaro froze.

What earring?

“Huh?” Jotaro meant to say, but his mouth only made an ‘O’ shape. He tilted his head slightly and felt a very tiny bit of pressure on his shoulder. It was a red cherry earring. One that he took from Noriaki’s body when he died. The other one still remained with his body, as he was buried with it, that was Jotaro’s wish.

“The cherry. I didn’t think you’d wear something besides your normal three colors. It suits you though. Accents your eyes rather well.” Rohan continued to mumble to himself, some rather backhanded compliments.

“It was an old friends.” Jotaro mumbled. That’s all he wanted to give. Eleven years later, and he didn’t wish to scratch at those old scars. They weren’t even old. Fresh scars, ready to bleed. He felt like his mouth was a scar, one that would open unwillingly.

“What was his name?” Rohan asked, “I might know him.” Rohan added.

“No. You wouldn’t, Rohan. You were about 9 when he—“ Jotaro’s throat went dry. Kakyoin wasn’t dead. He told himself that every night for two years after Egypt. Kakyoin wasn’t dead. Avdol wasn’t dead. Even that damn dog. Iggy wasn’t dead. None of them were dead. Jotaro still couldn’t admit they were. They were just- visiting other countries.

Kakyoin always said he wanted to go to Paris. Famous artists go there. Avdol would go to Russia. He always said he liked the cold weather, along with their culture. Iggy would still be with Polnareff. They were all happy, healthy, and alive.

“Died?” Rohan snapped Jotaro out of his spiral about them living. Jotaro’s throat unlocked for even just a moment, quickly nodding.

“Yeah. Eleven years ago. He is an artist like you. Has a similar art style. I don’t think he wants to become a mangaka though. Maybe.” Jotaro spoke of him like he was still alive. Why did he always do that?

“Hm. You’ll have to show me his work sometime, If you have any.” Rohan followed along with Jotaro’s present-tense nonsense.

“Yeah… Yeah. I will. I probably still have a piece with my stuff.” Jotaro knew he did. But was he ready to show such a personal part of his life? It was a piece of him. From when they first met. Even if it was originally used for a stand attack. He still kept the piece. It was pretty. Kakyoin insisted he didn’t, as it was a bad piece to him.

“I’d love for you to show me.” Rohan smiled at Jotaro.

“I should get going.” Jotaro quickly zipped around and walked off. He needed to clear his head. Clear it from whatever the fuck was happening. Good grief, he was pathetic. Still pretended that Kakyoin was alive.

Rohan tried to say goodbye, but Jotaro was already gone. Rohan nodded to himself.

———————

After Jotaro arrived back to the hotel building, there was a purple-haired man with a pompadour along with a short white haired man. Koichi and Josuke. Jotaro couldn’t see them. He had a headache.

“Mr. Jotaro!” Koichi called out, and Jotaro quickly used his stand to hit him to the side. He did it lightly, trying to not injure the boy, though. He was just a kid.

“Bugger off.” Jotaro mumbled, talking through his teeth.

Koichi’s eyes were wide, and he quickly put his head down, letting Jotaro enter the building.

Jotaro quickly got back to his hotel room, looking out the window and seeing the nice view of Morioh. He suddenly got a ringing sound from his Nokia, pulling it out and raising it to his ear.

“Kujo Jotaro speaking.” Jotaro said coldly, and Rohan’s voice played from his ear.

“I’d like to see his pieces.” Rohan spoke, his creepy smile almost audible from the phone. Jotaro hummed in approval and went to his suitcase, retrieving the painting of himself. Jotaro sent the number— Rohan’s number, which still hadn’t been saved in his contacts, as he didn’t have time— a photo of the painting. Rohan gasped.

“Is this Nori Kay’s work?” Rohan asked, humming and giggling at the painting. “A painter in France. Oh- but- was your friend Nori Kay?”

Jotaro raised an eyebrow. Nori Kay? That name sounded oddly like Noriaki Kakyoin.

“Show me some of Mr. Kay’s work.” Jotaro spoke.

Rohan went to his camera roll, scrolling through it a bit and pausing at some of the paintings, making a ‘Hmmm’ sound to himself, then deciding one.

Rohan sent over a photo of an angel with dark hair, and its clothes torn. There was knives pressing against its back, many of different shapes and sizes. Jotaro nodded, not really understanding what he was looking at.

Then Jotaro’s eye caught something. In the reflection of the uppermost knife, there was a blonde haired man. —Dio?! Jotaro stepped back, then looked closer. He was seeing things, as the blonde haired man was actually a brunette. Jotaro sighed to himself, shaking his head.

“Beautiful.” Jotaro commented, not sure what else to say. An artist would compliment the brushstrokes, the tiny details. Jotaro, though, was no artist. Kakyoin was. Kakyoin was everything Jotaro was not.

Fuck, I’m edgy. Jotaro thought, I’m acting like my teenage self. Except if I was more insecure. Jotaro chuckled to himself in his mind. Sometimes I wish I was.

Rohan talked a bit about the beauty behind this painting, and Jotaro wasn’t really paying attention to his speech. Jotaro occasionally listened in, but why would he care about one specific hatching technique on this specific blade. He couldn’t even tell what Rohan was talking about. Hatching, brushstrokes, water, etc. Rohan just continued.

“Can you stop? You’re give me a headache.” Jotaro said in Japanese, then switched to English. “Good frickin’ grief.” Jotaro hung up and closed his phone, placing it in his pocket. He laid down on his bed, putting his sleeve over his eyes to block out the piercing lights.

His Nokia’s screen, which was now dimming as Jotaro was zoning out thinking about way too much, suddenly lit up with a notification from Holly.

Mother: I do hope you call me tonight, Jojo! If you have free time of course!

Jotaro’s eyes narrowed, and he threw his head back groaning. He opened the chat, leaving the Phone app.

Jotaro: I will.

Was all Jotaro typed. Because what else do you say to your mother who most definitely will cry if you don’t answer? Holly probably would. Joseph always urged him to call his mother, as she was scared of Jotaro leaving her half of the time. Which was odd, as he moved out a long time ago.

“Only a few weeks and I’m already tired of this place.” Jotaro mumbled in English. English felt more comfortable on his tongue than Japanese anymore. Which Joseph— even though he wasn’t Japanese, wouldn’t approve of.

Jotaro sighed and took out his earring, staring at it in his hand. There was a slight crack in the center, a hole looking scar. Jotaro balled his hand up in a fist. The earring could take it. The cherry could always handle problems better than him.

Kakyoin… it would’ve never been boring with him. Never annoying either.

Oh Kakyoin.

Oh how I miss you.

END OF FIRST CHAPTER

Chapter Text

“Well, I hope you’re having fun, Jotaro!” Holly said. “I need to get going now! Have a wonderful night.” Holly hung up after Jotaro mumbled something along the lines of ‘Bye, Mom.’ Which she always waited for him to say.

The call was just a lot of adult conversations that Jotaro didn’t really appreciate. Talking about studies, friends (which that topic ended quickly), and Morioh. Holly said she’d visited there once, but she was a kid and Joseph took her. Which is surprising, as Jotaro didn’t really think he’d be involved in his kids lives. What did Joseph even look like when he was younger? Probably how Jotaro looked, considering they were related.

Jotaro hovered over the call icon for a contact named ‘Old Man’ and called it. After the Nokia ringtone played, repeating 3 times before the call finally got picked up.

“Old Man, when are you coming to Morioh? Also, random question, but what did you look like as a teenager? Or young adult.” Jotaro spoke, cringing inwardly at the second question, because who just asks their decrepit grandpa for photos of himself from— what, 60 years ago? Damn, Joseph is old.

Joseph pauses for a moment, then speaks, “I probably have a few photos, if you want me to show them to you.” Joseph is very obviously grinning, as if he’s waited for someone to ask this.

Jotaro hums in response, fiddling with the cherry earring that was still in his hand. It was very old, and people had given him multiple new ones as a gift, but all those end up in a cabinet like a tiny shrine towards Kakyoin, even if that wasn’t the intent.

Joseph sends over a photo with multiple Polaroids without color lying on a table. Jotaro goes back to their chat and clicks on the photo, zooming in on one that had a younger Joseph with a pink dress.

“…That time you told us you used to cross-dress when we were in Cairo. You weren’t lying?” Jotaro asked, but it was much more of a statement than a question.

“Why would I be?” Joseph asked, “I was beautiful.” Joseph chuckled.

Jotaro scoffed and looked over at the other one, a Polaroid of Joseph and a blonde-haired man with striking green eyes, with purple triangles residing underneath them. Joseph was still in the pink dress, with red lipstick, and the other man had a red lipstick mark on his cheek. Jotaro’s eyebrows raised at that.

“Who’s the blondie?” Jotaro questioned.

“Ah- an old friend of mine. Ceaser.”

“Friend?”

“Yes, Jojo. What else would he be?”

“The kiss, Joseph.”

Joseph gasped and huffed, seemingly examining the photos again and then letting out a loud womanly shrill. “I have no idea how that got there!”

“Old man.”

“Yeah?”
“Did you cheat on Grandma Suzi back then too?” Jotaro asked, this was the first question that came to mind, since how could you possibly hurt such a sweet woman?

“We weren’t married back then. I was single.” Joseph let out a groan. “Sure, I kissed him. But it didn’t have any… mushy gushy feelings behind it.”

Jotaro chuckled and nodded. Never did he think his grandpa used to swing that way. Was that even a thing back in— his day and age? How long ago was that?

“…You kissed a man.” Jotaro only replies.

“I did, Jojo. And don’t act like you haven’t wanted to either! Many people experiment back in those days of life.”

Jotaro inwardly cringes at the use of the word ‘Experiment’. “Don’t say it like that, Old Man. It makes it sound like I want to have sex with a man.”

“I mean—“

“No.” Jotaro hangs up.

———-

Yare Yare… Jotaro mumbles to himself, laying down on the surprisingly soft hotel bed and putting his hat over his face. Jotaro looked up at the blaring light through the hat, then turned onto his side, grabbing a book about jellyfish he had been reading the night prior.

Jotaro mumbled the facts inside the book to himself, correcting an approximated decimal to the actual number. This book was rubbish, but he needed something to entertain his mind that wasn’t just talking to the Old Man or looking at some random shit on his Nokia. He took his hat off his face fully, as it had been revealed just a bit so he could read the book, and he dragged a hand over his face.

Jotaro stood up and grabbed a white tank-top and a pair of black basketball shorts from his luggage. Some of his favorite colors. Yay. Jotaro dug through his luggage some more and took ahold of black boxers and a pair of white ankle socks with a dark grey part at the end for the toes, and one for the heel.

He walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind it, not feeling a need to lock it as it was just him inside the hotel room. He turned the water onto a freezing cold setting.

“Jesus, Jojo. You didn’t use any hot water while showering. Do you really take cold showers?”

“It’s manly, Kakyoin. Freezing showers wake you up. Hot ones put you to sleep.”

“Every time you say the word manly, I get one step closer to death.”

Jotaro replayed the moment in his mind. A simple, nice moment with Kakyoin. Fuck. Why was all he was thinking about today Kakyoin? Kakyoin this, Kakyoin that. He’s dead, Jojo! Jotaro shouted to himself in his mind. You can’t fucking bring him back. He’s not in Paris. He’s not a famous painter. You’re an idiot.

Jotaro stripped naked and entered his shower, sitting on the floor as some of the water got in his eyes. It didn’t really hurt. Just felt like a slight tingle. He ran his hand over his face again and grabbed his 2-in-1 shampoo & conditioner. The bottle was a bright teal color, and the mascot was a pretty blue dolphin. Which was really the only reason as to why Jotaro had bought it. It looked like a children’s bottle, considering the bright letters and the funky text on the bottle. 

Jotaro stood up and dampened his hair thoroughly, rinsing away any dirt from the days prior. 

Suddenly, his phone blurted out with his ringtone and Jotaro groaned, exiting the shower and putting a towel over his mid-riff. He tied it securely, not wanting his junk to be hanging out. Not right now, at least.

”Dr. Kujo speaking.” Jotaro mumbled, walking out of the bathroom so the other line couldn’t hear the sounds of running water. “Who is this? You must know you’re calling at an ungodly hour.”

”Ungodly hour? It’s barely 9 AM, Jotaro.” Polnareff spoke on the other line, and Jotaro held back a sigh.

”Right. You’re with Jolyne. How’s she doing?” Jotaro frowned to himself, clearly more interested about his daughter than as to why Polnareff was calling.

”Oh, I can put her on now. C’mere, Jolyne! Uncle Jean has someone for you!” Polnareff exclaimed excitedly.

”Uncle Jean?” Jotaro asked.

”She’s a kid, she doesn’t have to call me Polnareff. That’s my last name.” Polnareff cleared his throat and handed the phone to Jolyne.

”Jojo?” Jotaro smiled to himself.

”Papa!” 

“How are you, kiddo.”

”Good! Uncle Jean has been helping out a lot around the house! He showed me some old photos of you! You looked so goofy, dad!”

”Well I appreciate it. Can I talk to your uncle again?”

”Okay!”

A bit more rustling later and Polnareff was back on.

”Whaattt?” Polnareff exclaimed like he was busy, which Jotaro knew wouldn’t be correct, as Polnareff never had stuff to do.

”Why’d you call?” 

“I wanted you to check out a stand user in Morioh. Uses paintings to harm subjects or whatever.” Polnareff sounded a lot like a beer dad right now. 

“Okay. I’ll find them. Thanks.” Jotaro immediately hung up. As much as he’d like to speak to Jolyne more, Jotaro knew if he continued to speak to Polnareff and Jolyne, that he’d lose his fucking mind.

————-

Jotaro settles back into his bed after the cold, relaxing shower, which was the first one in a while where he hadn’t waned to rip his skin off. Jotaro closes his eyes and keeps his entire body face up to the ceiling.

———

Jotaro awakes to a messages on his phone.

Kishibe Rohan: Who is Kakyoin Noriaki?

And Jotaro swears his heart beats out of his chest.