the relation of art and pain | jotakak

xix

Jotaro was admittedly surprised with Kakyoin's burst of emotions earlier today. As he sits before his laptop, he finds it difficult to maintain his focus for more than a few minutes, thinking of and re-examining everything Kakyoin said. It wasn't much, beyond the simple facts of what it all meant for them as a couple. Sometimes he may say things he does not mean, sometimes he might not want Jotaro to see him and it isn't because he doesn't want to see Jotaro, sometimes... he had trailed off at that point, changing topics.

He wasn't sure what to feel, or if he should feel anything in particular about Kakyoin's confession. Jotaro only knew that seeing him so frayed was terrible. There have been few, if any, times in his life where it was genuinely upsetting to listen to someone else's troubles, and even fewer where he's been able to feel someone else's pain as if it were his own. It was confirmation to himself that Jotaro had meant what he said.

Before he knows it, Jotaro has Googled schizophrenia. Misspelled, of course; it's a difficult word, and English was never his strong suit. It feels weird, on one hand. Should he really be reading about Kakyoin as if he's one of his favorite fish, studying him like this, researching him? On the other hand, Jotaro knows he doesn't mean it that way, that he's looking into it because...

Well, because he cares about Kakyoin and he's too goddamned awkward to actually talk to him.

He has his own questions, too. It doesn't feel right to force Kakyoin to talk about something that he clearly thinks of as personal. It makes Jotaro feel strange — in a good way — to know that Kakyoin deemed him important enough to share that with him at all. Besides family, Jotaro can't recall another person who ever felt the same way towards him.

An hour later, he leans back in his desk chair, stretching his legs. He fell down an internet rabbit hole in no time flat once things began making sense, all the small things Jotaro had interpreted as little quirks clicking into place. He can't deny the fact that it is all a bit odd to him, in a new, uncharted territory type of way. But Jotaro is too naturally curious and analytical to be judgmental. If anything, it's interesting.

An offhand thought laughs at him for how hypocritical it is to claim that, when all he does is judge himself. He doesn't pay it any mind, clicking back over to his Google Doc and trying to get into the frame of mind to continue writing.

-

The next time he sees Kakyoin, it's to begin working on their final piece. Joseph had, much to Kakyoin's dismay, insisted that dropping by was no problem, despite the fact he would be coming to stay in just a few more weeks. He already spent most of winter break hanging around the Kujo residence. Jotaro did not appreciate it, considering finals week is already overwhelming enough without a cheerful, ditzy old man encouraging him to go out and have fun rather than study.

Jotaro knows he isn't really ditzy, and he knows why Joseph began staying in town every year, but he doesn't like remembering how old his grandpa is getting. As long as Joseph pretends everything is smooth sailing inside his noggin, Jotaro will, too.

Putting some form of meaning into their painting means acknowledging that everything is not smooth sailing, though. Jotaro doesn't bring it up to anyone, but he finds himself listening a little closer while Joseph rattles off a story to Kakyoin.

Jotaro bitches and moans internally about his grandpa's overwhelming energy, but his gruff voice has a nostalgic quality to it. It's especially true now, as he listens to him recount one of the various times he almost got canned for screwing around in the military. Those were his favorite stories to tell young, wide-eyed Jotaro. Joseph thought they made him sound badass, and little Jotaro did too.

Kakyoin is a little more than politely interested. Jotaro finds himself content to sit around the living room once they're finished painting, Joseph overjoyed to have someone to tell his life's story to. Holly has heard them all before, as has Jotaro, but Kakyoin is a set of fresh ears.

Once it grows late and they are both itching for some privacy, Kakyoin attempts to wrap things up. "It sounds like you've had quite the life."

Joseph laughs. "I guess so, huh?"

Jotaro fights the urge to roll his eyes. All the mushy things he had been thinking about are replaced with how full of himself Joseph is. It takes another half hour to shoo him out of the house. Holly always does her best to be a good hostess, but Joseph never accepts her invitations to stay the night at their place instead of a hotel.

He can feel the day in his lower back when he relaxes on his bed with Kakyoin. Or rather, they both flop onto it and lay in the silence, staring up at the ceiling. It feels cheesy, but the artist's company is nice after a long day. In the past few days, Jotaro has made working out before lunch a routine, rather than doing it at home when he's already exhausted. Now it leaves his thighs and arms burning for the rest of his day. He is more than ready to call it a night and pass out.

"Jotaro?" Kakyoin says.

He grunts.

"I never said thank you. The other day."

"You don't have to," Jotaro says.

"I do," Kakyoin insists, but Jotaro waves a dismissive hand.

"You don't need to thank people for being decent human beings," he says. He wanders what sort of reactions Kakyoin has gotten before if his simple response was such a breath of fresh air to him.

Kakyoin is quiet. He glances over and catches him drumming his fingers against his stomach. "I guess," he finally says. "But I'm going to anyways."

Jotaro doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches over and presses Kakyoin's hand flat to his stomach. It takes a moment, but Kakyoin snickers and playfully pushes his hand away. The dreary mood that has been hanging over Jotaro disappears with the presence of his smile.

"Hey. Um... speaking of that." Kakyoin says, after a short pause. Jotaro can't recall ever hearing him hesitate, his words always planned and to the point. "Kishibe gave us our final project."

"Yeah?"

"This might sound mushy and stupid, to you," he prefaces. He talks slow, deciding what to say. "I was having trouble, deciding what to do for it. But then we had that talk and... I had an idea."

Kakyoin hesitates once more. His fingers begin drumming his stomach again and Jotaro catches his hand in his own. It spurs him on.

"I had an idea," Kakyoin repeats, regaining his train of thought. "And I'm working on it now."

"Can I know what it is?" Jotaro encourages, curious.

"It isn't you. For once," Kakyoin says, offering him a smile. His gaze trails down to their hands, laced together over his stomach, and he makes his decision. "I think I'll keep you in suspense. But thank you, again."