the relation of art and pain | jotakak

viii

Kakyoin had made sure to take his pills this morning; though they make him feel empty and down, he wants nothing to ruin his date with Jotaro. As he looks at himself in the mirror for the hundredth time, searching for every minute flaw he can find, he thinks about the comedy in that.

Although there is a reason why it is this way, one would think all the suffering Kakyoin has been through would convince him to care for himself more than a random — albeit wonderful — man. Over the years, he has come to learn that his mind is not normal. He has had a few people tell him that, anyways, and majority rules. Kakyoin is not sure he believes there is anything wrong with him in the way they say there is. Even now, three years after his first psychotic episode, he only sees a lonely, stupid boy in the mirror.

He takes a deep breath and unbuttons the top of his shirt and decides he will not think about it anymore. Instead, he wanders what Jotaro sees when he looks at him. An artist? A soulless ginger? Does he see nothing but a schizophrenic, too?

Kakyoin realizes he is stalling for time as he rearranges his clothes and lets his thoughts run wild. With the presence of pre-date jitters, he fears another breakdown. Nerves tend to jump start them, and he has quite enough of those right now. There is nothing more unsettling to him than never being completely sure when a break will strike. The anxiety it causes does not help stave them off, either.

He sighs and shakes his head. Get it together.

Jean looks up from his phone when he exits the bathroom and whistles. Kakyoin snorts.

"Look at you, hot stuff," he grins. "I guess you're leaving me all alone tonight, huh?"

"Unless you want to third wheel, yes," Kakyoin says.

"Depends who I'd be third wheelin' for."

Kakyoin had not told him, for he knew he would disapprove. He can live his own life, but Jean gets annoying when he gets upset. "Jotaro."

"Oh. I'm good," Jean waves a hand, returning to his phone. Kakyoin bites back a sigh of relief that he is not getting a lecture about his choice in men.

"I'll be back in a few hours," Kakyoin says, as he gathers his phone and bag, slipping on his shoes at the door.

"Don't get drunk this time," Jean suggests. His tone is playful, but Kakyoin cannot help thinking, there it is.

"Don't you have an exam tonight, asshat?" Kakyoin reminds.

The sound of Jean jumping up to study pleases him. From how careless he is, Kakyoin is not sure he would have ever guessed that Jean is a criminal justice major. When he thinks detective, he usually thinks intelligence.

-

By now, the route to Jotaro's house is a familiar one, and Kakyoin loses himself inside his head while he walks. It is a good twenty minute walk, long enough to justify listening to a few songs off of The Soul Cages. Halfway through it, he realizes that he forgot his jacket and the chilly air is beginning to seep past his thin shirt. If only Jean bugged him about something useful once in a while.

Holly notices his slight shiver before he can even utter a greeting. "You'll get a cold without something warmer than that," she chides, tugging him inside by his wrist. "Borrow one of our scarves."

She does not give him time to pick, and he hardly gets a good look at the scarf she pulls out before she is draping it around his neck for him. It's a little embarrassing, though it has been far too long since he was doted on by a mother for him to care. His only concern is that this scarf smells like Jotaro, and he might not like that Kakyoin has borrowed his clothing.