Expression

Chapter Twenty-five

Part III: Words That We Couldn't Say

For once, Kakyoin was beginning to feel safe when other people spoke to him. He said his goodbyes to Marco and Elise, promised to speak to them later, and joined Jotaro and Joseph. Avdol and Polnareff's faces grinned up at them from a Polaroid taken in front of Tokyo tower paper-clipped to a postcard of the same location. The letter described that pair's activities after returning to France.

Nobody had written anything to him before, and yet these two had wanted to include him in their world by doing so. Perhaps that truly is friendship. More than a simple battle alliance, more than just a courtesy invitation to meet while they were in Japan. They had no obligation to direct this to him, and yet they had. They'd asked how he was doing, gave an address if he'd wanted to write or a number if he'd wanted to call. Is it true that people can actually want to speak to me? Yes, maybe... He wanted to cry. Not because this hurt him, but the realization that he hadn't experienced such a simple thing before was finally weighing upon him. This was how life felt for most people, this was something they'd grown up with. A glance at Jotaro and the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his jaw told him that they both felt the same way.

"How's it been, Kakyoin?" Joseph Joestar smiled, patting him one the back.

"Normal." It wasn't a lie, really. Loneliness, paranoia, drowning in a hopelessness and always barely getting by—all of these were normal for him. He hated to lie, but he felt it was inappropriate to complain. Wasn't it really just a question people asked each other? A "how are you" to be answered with a "good" and then with the parties switched—pure social ritual, an not anything about genuine concern for the other person?

So he'd play it off. This, too, was normal.

He'd never talked much with Joseph about his life, anyways. So how would he know any better? "How are things with you? And Jotaro." he ventured with a polite and careful smile.

"Oh! Couldn't be better. Jotaro, you're doing well enough, aren't you?"

"Ah, yeah. Not bad, I guess." The whole thing was painfully awkward for Kakyoin, and he could tell it was so for Jotaro too. "Hey, Kakyoin, how'd you know that Marco guy?"

"We're classmates."

"Oh. I think I might recognize Elise from one of my classes. I mean, she looks familiar. But maybe I just saw her on our journey somehow. She did work for DIO, after all."

"I still haven't decided if it's a good or a bad thing that stand users tend to meet each other."

"Well, it's one way to meet people, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Meeting people in exchange for constantly being under threat of death. Not a bad trade-off, I guess."

Jotaro laughed, before cutting himself short. "Sorry, Nor—ah, Kakyoin. Don't want to waste your time. You're probably, um busy. Important things to do. I'll... let you be. If anything comes up, I'm sure the Speedwagon Foundation can get you in contact with us."

Kakyoin recognized this particular politeness Jotaro attempted sometimes, when he wasn't sure what the boundaries were and so was especially distant. It hadn't been a common trait of his early in their journey, but it had become a more often occurrence for him to act like this. Usually it was manifested in a toned-down abrasiveness around strangers who hadn't done anything to piss him off (yet).

It was one of the things that had endeared him to Jotaro. He was trying to care for people. Still, the distance this particular time stung. He didn't have the heart to say it, though, so he just smiled. "Right. See you." A routine phrase, one commonly used without meaning behind it, and yet one he, at the same time he hoped for it never to come true, desperately wished for its fulfillment.

Damn... and I was trying to get over you. There was still a certain cautiousness Kakyoin wished to maintain. He wouldn't try for anything more yet. Perhaps he was mistaken when he thought that there could be some romance between him and Jotaro, him taking simple friendship too far because he'd never had a friend before, but what excuse was that to run from the connection that they did have?

On the other hand, what if Jotaro didn't want to spend time with him any more? There was no denying that things were awkward between them, and it wasn't exactly like this was something easy to fix. So he wouldn't push for anything, but he wasn't going to avoid Jotaro any more, either. To hell with avoidance.

Jotaro ached so much after this encounter. It was like that time he'd tried to quit cigarettes, but had been offered one by an acquaintance. Thinking this would be just one time, he'd accepted. The habit had come back worse.

He wasn't going to speak to Kakyoin if Kakyoin didn't want to speak to him, but damn if this didn't make his wish to worse.

"Hey, Jotaro, you alright?" The old man cast him a concerned glance. "It can't be easy fighting again." Jotaro remembered their previous conversation. Is he wondering if I'll fall into the pattern he once fell into? If this will push me into it?

Damnit, I was already there. How had he not realized those long hours with Star Platinum for what they were? And yet, ultimately, it hadn't been what had mattered in this encounter. He hadn't needed to freeze time. What had been most helpful was Star's skill in removing the flesh bud; the ability to care for other human beings, not something that made him even more capable of hurting them. And he'd been so harsh on Star... The disatisfaction, the anger over not being good enough when he'd worn his stand out, pushed him past his capacity and only made things worse through his own willful ignorance. Yelling at his stand for not speaking, for not communicating in the way he did and in the way he wanted.

Just like everyone treated me.

"... Jotaro?"

Oh. I never answered the question. "Yeah. Don't worry, old man, I'll be alright." A promise to myself as much as to him. But I want it to be true.

Once they got back home, he could be alone. He retreated to his room, called out Star Platinum again, but for a different reason than before.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry." It was as much an apology to himself as to anything else. The very words and attitude that had been used against him his whole life—and he'd repeated them. As much as he'd tried to convince himself that he was strong, that he didn't care, that he didn't give a damn what anyone thought of him, they had burrowed their way into him. Perhaps because he'd pretended so hard, afraid to confront the truth, afraid to confront his own feelings. Afraid to prick his fingers on their thorns by attempting to remove them, he'd allowed them to dig into his skin. It stung so much more, left so many more scars, than if he would have tried to pick out the thorns.

Ah... what have I done?

He folded in on himself, clutching his knees. Wordlessly, Star Platinum wrapped around him, this dangerous form nevertheless warm and soft.

Have I hurt anyone else like this? Did I become sharp-edged myself?

He could stop time, but he could never go back. It couldn't be changed. But the future still expanded before him. Jotaro embraced Star Platinum in return, leaning into his comfort. He'd internalized so much, and he could never undo that damage. Some things could never fully heal. But he would do what he could.