Kickstart My Heart

Never Gonna Give You Up

He's gonna make it.
He's gonna make it.
He's gonna make it.

Jōtarō knew it, and still he could not help but repeat it to himself over and over again.

Now that the adrenaline from the fight against N'Dour had vanished, a fight he had effortlessly managed to recreate (thanks to Star Platinum's excellent kinesthetic memory), he was pacing up and down Aswan Hospital.

It had happened before. That, too, he kept on repeating to himself.
But going through it again was apparently as intense and unbearable as it had been the first time.

The young man closed his eyes and took a long drag from his cigarette to calm himself down.

He did not blame N'Dour. Neither did he blame the other enemy stand users they had fought before (apart from J. Geil who really was a bastard). Nobody was a saint of course, yet the horrors they did, they did for Dio.
Jōtarō was this close to say fuck it and go wreck that vampire son on a bitch by himself. It was physical, and it itched so bad.

The only thing holding him back was Kakyoin, whom he could hear moaning in pain through the door because of Star Platinum's hyper-acute hearing senses.

Iggy was curled up on a chair snoring, not giving a single shit about the heavy atmosphere. The other Crusaders were in deep conversation with one of the hospital's doctors while waiting for the "imminent" arrival of a specialist from the Speedwagon Foundation. (They had been waiting for a good three hours).
Jōtarō could hear them talk without really listening.
The doctor sounded embarrassed and was currently being yelled at by Polnareff, whom Abdul was trying to calm down by shouting louder... until Joseph got angry at both of them and hopefully prevented Jōtarō from committing a double murder to shut them up.

Kakyoin was in the hands of two nurses.
The brunette didn't like the idea of him being alone with them. Even though the next stand users they would fight would be Oingo and Boingo, and not tonight.

There was no risk of any enemy stand appearing out of nowhere then, but you can never be too cautious.
(He still recalled the school nurse turning into a harpy under Hierophant Green's power, back when the redhead was under Dio's influence. Maybe Jōtarō had better sneak in and take away all the pens.)

He wondered if Kakyoin wasn't in possession of one, too. Since he was an artist and all.

He's gonna make it.

Jōtarō lowered his hat on his eyes and fought back the oh so cruel truth that would have become if Kakyoin lost his sight.
Things would not go this way. He knew it, he had been through it already.
Kakyoin would keep on drawing. End of story.

Jōtarō was curious by the way; he hadn't had the occasion to have a close look at his friend's work. The redhead always kept a notepad on him, in which he must have had time to draw at least a couple sketches, in between all the stand attacks.

- Excuse me, are you Jojo?

Jōtarō snapped out of his thoughts and turned to the nurse whose head had just popped out of the now open door.
- Mmh, he nodded.

She took a quick glance around, as if by precaution, then gestured for him to come in.

- He's been asking for you. I'm not really allowed to let you in after visiting hours, but since his condition is not so good, even with the morphine... anyway. Please be quiet.

Jōtarō raised a brow, stood up from the wall he had been leaning against and followed her inside.

He's fine.
She's wrong.