Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is the last thing Jouta wants to do, but Noriaki is sprawled on the couch, barely moving and heaped with blankets, and Jouta doesn’t know what can fix it. When the fever had hit, he’d made soup, he’d looked at websites with medical information and he’d called the local doctor, all to no avail. His father wasn’t getting sicker, but Jouta knew it was just a matter of time.

Trembling, he dials the number he’s memorised despite not wanting to, a number he remembers from how many times his father’s fingers had pressed the buttons of the telephone ever-so-deftly, a number he remembers from call logs he wasn’t meant to check but couldn’t help checking sometimes, when his anxiety got the better of him. He listens to the phone ringing, and then –

“Noriaki?”

Jotaro’s voice is exactly as Jouta remembers it; deep and neutral, betraying nothing. Rough like gravel, like he’s being slammed against the concrete, quiet violence where nobody can hear it.

“No,” Jouta says, makes his hand into a fist, wills himself to stop trembling. “No, this is Jouta.”

“Jouta,” Jotaro repeats. Jouta hates him, but he doesn’t have the time for this. Dad’s life is on the line, and if Jotaro’s the only one who can help, Jouta will swallow his pride and ask. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Jouta says, and it takes everything in him not to cry. “Dad’s sick, and this isn’t a normal sickness. I don’t know what’s wrong but. You have to visit, Jotaro. You have to.”

“Jouta, I – ”

“Don’t fucking try and placate me,” Jouta hisses. “If you care even the tiniest bit about Dad, you’ll show up. You have to, please, I can’t,” he’s crying now, even though he doesn’t want to, even though he doesn’t think he has any right to, “I can’t lose him, Jotaro. And I can’t help him, either.”  

“I’m sorry,” Jotaro says. He actually does sound sorry, Jouta notes. He tries to calm down his own breathing, counting his breaths, pacing it out. “I’m not sure it’ll be wise for me to come, but I can send reinforcements. People who can help. I can promise you that much.”

“I know you’ve stayed away from us to protect us,” Jouta manages to say. He’s angry enough that it subsides the tears. “I know that. But isn’t it all moot, anyway? If Dad’s… if he’s already been harmed, Jotaro, don’t you think the least you can do is show up?”

“I’ll send appropriate personnel who can help Noriaki,” Jotaro says. And then, in a voice that contains some emotion that Jouta isn’t sure he recognises clearly enough to put a name to, Jotaro asks, “Would you even want me there?”

“This isn’t about me,” Jouta says, spluttering. “This is about Dad. He’d want you here. You need to be here.”

“Mm,” Jotaro says. “I’ll look at flights.”

Jouta rolls his eyes; that is neither a yes or a no. Typical Jotaro bullshit.

“Jouta?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for telling me,” Jotaro says. And then the line goes dead.

Jouta’s turned on his consoles and been playing video games by the TV, sitting on the floor, when a hand pushes his cap off his head, tousling his hair casually. Usually, it’d be Green doing it, but Jouta suspects that Noriaki’s too exhausted to manifest Hierophant.

“Hey, kiddo,” Noriaki murmurs, faintly.

Jouta hits pause instantly. “Dad! Are you… how do you feel?”

“I’ve had better days, peanut.” Noriaki smiles gently at him, though. “The soup was lovely. I wanted to thank you.”

Jouta thinks of the book in the kitchen cabinet, carefully handwritten recipes in there. Jotaro had been the one to cook those, a little over a decade ago.

“It’s grandma’s recipe,” he says, instead.

“Don’t pause your game for me,” Noriaki insists, his hand still on Jouta’s head as Jouta leans back. “Go on. Think you can beat my highscore?”

“Pfft,” Jouta scoffs, making a face and sticking his tongue out. “I’m not defeating your score out of pity, it’s a choice.”

As he’d hoped, Noriaki laughs at that, a proper belly laugh, but then he exhales deeply, looking extremely tired.

Despite himself, Jouta asks, “Will you be okay?”

Noriaki’s never lied to him, and he doesn’t lie now, either. “I don’t know.”

The doorbell rings forty minutes later, four hours after the phone call (not that Jouta is monitoring it.) Noriaki is slipping between sleep and wakefulness, making comments on Jouta’s gameplay at times, and at other times when Jouta looks over his shoulder, sleeping deeply. Right now, his dad pokes his shoulder. “Console down,” Noriaki says seriously. “Did you order pizza or something?”

“Or something,” Jouta says. He gets up, walks over to the door, opens it.

He isn’t expecting Jotaro to actually be there, even though Charmy’s sweep had confirmed it beforehand. Jotaro really is there; taller than he remembers, eyes full of more sadness than he recalls them being as well.

Jouta wordlessly steps aside to let him in, and Jotaro does, taking his shoes off and entering the house barefoot. Jouta knows that none of the house slippers they have will fit Jotaro, but doesn’t bother saying as much, watching as Jotaro pads over to the couch.

Noriaki blinks a little.  “Jotaro?”

Jotaro bends over, sitting down on the carpet, back to the TV so he’s facing Noriaki. “Nori,” he says, softly.

Jouta, who’s locked the door, stays by the door, pressing himself against the doorframe, unsure what to feel.

One of Noriaki’s hands rests on Jotaro’s cheeks. “Tell me you’re real,” he murmurs, and Jouta’s heart breaks for him, breaks in general. He wants to leave the house forever, wants to pummel the shitty old man to the ground. But none of that fixes anything.

“Dad, Jotaro,” he says instead, heading over to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Soup, water, orange juice, coffee, tea? I’m making myself some tea anyway, so it’s no imposition.”

“Soup sounds like a dream, Jojo,” Noriaki says to him. “Are you certain it’s no imposition?”

“Relax, I just have to reheat a bowl,” Jouta says. “Jotaro, d’you want anything?”

“Whatever you give me is fine,” Jotaro says.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jouta groans. He would say worse, but he doesn’t want to cause undue stress to Dad. “Make a decision, or say you don’t want anything. Don’t beat around the bush and expect me to read your damn mind.”

Something that’s almost a smile appears on Jotaro’s face, changing back into his standard neutrality so quickly that Jouta suspects that he’s imagined it. “Lemon tea, if you have it, then.”

Lemon tea is Jouta’s favourite, and Jouta doubts that Jotaro actually knew that. The coincidence of the choice pisses him off. “Alright,” he says.

When he comes back, handing Noriaki a bowl of soup on a tray first, before he gets the two mugs of tea, Noriaki gives him a gentle smile. “Thank you, sweetpea,” he says, his eyes already looking brighter.

Jotaro can do what Jouta can’t do, even though Jouta’s home all the time, even though Jouta loves his dad more than anyone else in the world. Maybe Noriaki would be happier if Jouta didn’t exist, if he could live his life as a Speedwagon Agent in the same capacity that Jotaro did, Jotaro who had no children and no responsibilities, a free bird. It feels like all he does is hold people down.

“Hey, chin up,” Noriaki says, noticing the expression but misunderstanding its cause. “I’ll be right as rain soon.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Jouta says. He gets up, still holding his tea. Stop, you’re being rude, he chastises himself, but he can’t help it, and he walks off to his room. Sitting there alone on his bed, Charmy wrapping around his shoulders in a hug he didn’t ask for but will not refuse, he lets himself cry, tea left by his bedside for when he feels less shaky.

Barely five minutes later, and there’s a knock on his door. Jouta isn’t expecting Dad to recover quite that fast, but there was no way Jotaro would show up at his door, so he says, “Come in.”

And then wishes he’d sent Charmy out to do a sweep, because it is Jotaro.

“Noriaki’s worried about you,” Jotaro says, cutting to the chase. “And so am I.”

“I don’t need your worry,” Jouta says. “Shove it up your ass.”

“Touché,” Jotaro says. “Anyway. I’ve contacted your great-uncle Josuke, he’ll be here as soon as possible. His stand is one of the most powerful we know, and it has the ability to heal things and restore them to their original state. The Speedwagon Foundation has coordinated transport and made all the necessary arrangements, but he is flying here from Japan, which, as you know, will take longer than my Florida-New York flight did.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jouta grumbles. “How long til they get here?"

“Around thirteen hours by flight, plus the drive from the airport to your place, which makes it fourteen hours,” Jotaro says. “Four hours have already gone by, but they would have to pack, and to make it to the Morioh airport, so factoring everything in, I’d estimate eleven hours.”

Eleven hours is a lot of time, and Jouta is worried. Charmy helpfully brings his cup of lemon tea closer, and Jouta takes it in his hands, sipping at it. It’s still warm, though nowhere near as hot as he likes it.

“What am I going to do until they get here?” Jouta finally says. “Dad’s not – he’s not getting worse, not yet. But he’s not getting better, either.”

“You mean what are we going to do,” Jotaro says. “I’m not leaving. Not this time. Not unless you want me to go. Alright?”

“It’s not about me, it’s about Dad,” Jouta repeats emphatically. “I already fucking told you that, so stop pretending that you care!”

Jotaro frowns. “I’m not pretending anything that I don’t feel, Jouta. And as for Noriaki… you are the most important person in his life. He would not want me to stay if you wouldn’t be comfortable with it. If you would rather not be alone, we can always get a local nurse to stay with the two of you, and I don’t need to be here. But I would like to be here, if you can give me a second chance. I won’t hold any hard feelings if you don’t.”

“We’ve left Dad unsupervised for too long,” Jouta says, instead of untangling any of that. That might be the most that Jotaro’s ever said to him, and the most surprising thing is that he believes all of it. Still, it’s taking a while to process.

Finishing his cup of tea, he walks back to the living room, where Animal Crossing has now been plugged in, and Noriaki is half-heartedly playing with Jouta’s character, picking up fruit and walking in circles.

“Borrowed Peccadillo, hope you don’t mind,” Noriaki says.

“Knock yourself out,” Jouta says. There’s a lump in the back of his throat, watching Noriaki curled up on the sofa, pretending for his sake that everything’s okay. Some part of Jouta feels ten years younger than he actually is. “I love you, Dad.”

Instead of a customary Don’t get sappy on me, kid, Noriaki just says, “I love you too, peach. You holding up okay?”

Jouta exhales. “Yeah,” he murmurs. And then stops, because Jotaro’s walking towards the door. “You said you wouldn’t leave!”

“You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to stay,” Jotaro reminds him. He isn’t looking at Jouta, his hat’s brim hiding his eyes. Frustrated, Jouta gets Charmy to knock the hat off Jotaro’s head. For a moment he feels pleased that Star Platinum didn’t stop him, and then he looks at Jotaro’s expression, the hurt in his eyes. Jouta’s mind is more or less made up for him.

“I didn’t ask you to leave either, old man,” Jouta says. He pats the carpeted ground next to him,  watching as Jotaro comes and sits down by Noriaki’s feet, facing the TV. “Want to catch some Animal Crossing fish with me?”

Jotaro almost smiles. “Sure.”

“Dad, hand the controller over,” Jouta says. He walks Peccadillo up to the beach, tries to teach Jotaro, who is hopeless at it, much to Jouta’s confusion and Noriaki’s amusement. Finally, Jotaro hands the controller over to Star Platinum, who is somehow much better at the game, and Jouta summons Charmy Green to supervise and offer the occasional tip. In that moment, he can almost pretend that they’re a normal family, but he still can’t pretend that nothing is wrong.

“Jotaro?” he asks.

“Mm?” Jotaro acknowledges gruffly.

“Tell me a little about my great-uncle?” Jouta asks nervously.

“He’s, hmm, five and a half years older than you, or so,” Jotaro says. “Twenty three years old. He’s been in med school for the past few years, training to be a nurse. I think you’ll like him, he’s a compassionate, reliable person with a good heart.”

“Oh, Josuke’s coming?” Noriaki smiles. “That’s sweet, but my condition isn’t so dire, you needn’t worry – ”

“Stop that, Dad,” Jouta interrupts. “We love you. We’ll always worry.”

He doesn’t think he’s said anything that weird, but then he hears Jotaro’s sharp intake of breath, and he realises he’s just made an assumption. An assumption that made everything far more awkward than it needed to be.

“Not always, I hope,” Noriaki teases, and the atmosphere feels a little more normal.

“I worry more about Jotaro,” Jouta jokes. “Fucker can barely play Animal Crossing.”

Noriaki laughs softly at that, and Jotaro huffs. “You’re so mean,” he says neutrally. “Nori, he gets it from you.”

“I’m all too aware,” Noriaki says, smiling at Jouta affectionately, ruffling his hair. His eyes shine, and Jouta looks at him, trying to commit him to memory. Just in case Josuke and the others don’t arrive in time, or the eleven-hour-wait turns out to be too much.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Noriaki murmurs softly. Jotaro stares at the TV intently, watching Peccadillo wade around in the ocean at Star Platinum’s command. He’s probably exhibiting some tact, Jouta thinks, which is a bit of a surprise, but whatever. One of Noriaki’s hands gently touch Jouta’s face, wiping away tears that Jouta has barely registered. “Remember what I've always told you?”

“Kakyoins are made of tough stuff,” Jouta says. He blinks away the last of his tears, nods. “You’ll be okay.”

Noriaki smiles, but it looks a little sad. “Damn right, I will.”

Chapter Text

Jouta tries to sleep, and somewhat manages it, though his sleep is disturbed. He’s awoken at around three in the morning by a bloodcurdling scream.

Noriaki has his fair share of nightmares, and so does Jouta. Nightmares are unfortunately a regular staple of the Kakyoin household. Jouta doesn’t know what other kids and parents do in situations like this, but he and his dad have always comforted each other in whatever ways possible. Jouta remembers being five, remembers being afraid of thunderstorms, remembers being held safe in Noriaki’s arms, teary face pressed into a shoulder. But he also remembers being five and waking up out of sheer instinct, Charmy Green curling around Noriaki in a hug because Jouta didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to make the atmosphere of fear radiating out of Dad go away, but Charmy gave it a shot, anyway.

Usually, Noriaki is silent, though. Jouta’s the one who screams himself awake, every single time.

He’s out of bed instantly, feet padding silently against the wooden floors, and then he stops abruptly, ducking into the kitchen, out of sight from the living room. Because of course Jotaro beat him to it.

Strands of Charmy subtly trail the ground, thin and discreet enough that they’ll go unnoticed unless someone’s looking for them very carefully. Through his stand, Jouta can see and hear everything.

Noriaki’s clutching at Jotaro’s shoulders with something like a death grip, and Jotaro’s expression is resolute, concerned yet focused.

“It hurt,” Noriaki murmurs. “Like, Dio, like he was inside my head again, I’m scared, Jotaro, I’m scared. He’s coming back, he’s coming back, he’s – ”

“Nori, hey, look at me,” Jotaro murmurs gently. Jouta didn’t even know he could be gentle. “Dio is never coming back, alright? I made sure of it.”

“Maybe not him,” Noriaki says, and there’s coherence in his eyes as he glares at Jotaro. “But he had failsafes. Back-up plans. He was arrogant enough to believe he could never be killed, but obsessive enough to leave trails of harm. You know this. This is why we spent all those years apart.”

Jouta waits for Jotaro to tell Noriaki, gently, that he’s wrong, that there wasn’t any targeted danger of that level of intensity. But instead, Jotaro nods. “You’re right.”

Jouta blinks. What the fuck? Exactly how much danger had their family been in, all these years?

“Even so,” Jotaro says, “The Speedwagon Foundation monitors are very thorough, you know that. Nobody is after you.”

“It felt like he was in my head,” Noriaki hisses, sounding furious. Jouta has never heard that sort of rage in his father’s voice, though he’s seen and heard Noriaki get angry before. This is rawer, like Jotaro’s pressed into an open wound. Venomous enough that Jouta almost feels sorry for Jotaro. “If it isn’t him, it’s someone like him. Why is it so difficult for you to just believe me?”

Jotaro takes Noriaki’s hands in his, presses kisses to his knuckles. Noriaki still looks angry. Jouta holds his breath.

“I trust you, Nori, and I always will,” Jotaro says. “I don’t think anyone is after you. But… do you think your sickness…”

“Maybe it means I’m resisting,” Noriaki says, with a weak, sardonic smile. “Good. I’d rather be dead than be under someone’s control like that again.”

Jouta gasps, shaky. He clamps his hands over his mouth immediately, but the damage has been done. Noriaki doesn’t notice anything, but Jotaro looks up in the direction of the kitchen, and then he’s manifested Star Platinum, shit shit shit, and Star looks down at the floor, seeing Charmy Green.

“I need a minute, Nori,” Jotaro says, carefully pulling away from Noriaki, who looks afraid as Jotaro moves away.

“No, don’t leave,” Noriaki says. “Please don’t leave.”

Jouta is going to be sick. But more than anything else, he’s terrified. Jotaro’s face when he’d realised that he was eavesdropping… Still clutching the kitchen counter, he sinks to the floor.

“Here, cuddle Star Platinum,” Jotaro says. “I need a glass of water. I’ll be back.”

Jouta withdraws Charmy, as Noriaki curls up against Star, who seems to be attempting to sing some sort of lullaby to him despite being unable to make any vocalisations that aren’t “Ora.” Charmy returns to him as Jotaro enters the kitchen.

Jotaro’s always towered over Jouta, and even now, with Jouta managing to hit 6’1” with the Joestar growth spurt, he’s four inches taller. That is multiplied by the fact that Jouta is sitting on the floor, looking up at Jotaro, who looks gigantic from this angle. Jouta feels like a four year old.

Jotaro looks at him quizzically. “Why are you sitting down?”

Jouta scowls. “Really? That’s your question?”

Jotaro sighs. “Yare yare,” he grumbles, and to Jouta’s surprise, sits down across him, leaning against the opposite counter. They’re in the narrow corridor of the Kakyoin kitchen, the one that leads to the wider part with the sink and appliances, and what it means is that despite sitting across each other, they’re close enough to talk without Noriaki hearing anything. “What did you expect me to ask.”

“Aren’t you upset with me?” Jouta bursts out. “For eavesdropping?”

“No,” Jotaro says, solemnly. “Noriaki screamed pretty loudly when he had that nightmare. If anything, I was surprised that you didn’t show up immediately. I assumed you were a deep sleeper, but I knew if you had woken up, you would be around. Why would I be upset with you for worrying about your father?”

Jouta, despite himself, finds himself tearing up. “I don’t know anything about what he was talking about, what he went through, with Dio,” he tells Jotaro. “But it sounded awful. Still, I don’t want you to tell me. If anyone tells me, it has to be Dad, it has to be his choice to have me know.”

“Of course, I would have said the same if you’d asked,” Jotaro acknowledges. “It’s not my story to tell, not even to you. You’re right that it was awful. It was a very bad time. Noriaki is one of the strongest people I know, to have survived all of it, and to be able to oppose it even now. I only wish he didn’t have reason to be so resilient, so brave.”

“But we’re still in danger,” Jouta says. “We’ve been in danger for years.”

“Do you remember why I left?” Jotaro asks. When Jouta shakes his head, he continues, “There was a really bad stand attack. They went after all three of us. We secured you in a Speedwagon Foundation safe house. Dio took grudges very seriously, and his primary grudge was against the Joestars. Noriaki and I knew that; we’d always known that. We thought we could stay one step ahead of it anyway.” Jotaro swallows. “We were wrong.”

“What happened?” Jouta asks.

“You almost died,” Jotaro says. “I’m not surprised that you don’t remember it. You were only four, and it was a traumatic experience. But Noriaki and I knew we had to do everything we could do, to keep you safe from that.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” Jouta admits. “I just thought that you were paranoid, and that your real reason for keeping away was that you had your regrets. That you didn’t like me. Or didn’t give a fuck about me.”

It’s more than he meant to say, but he can’t quite help it.

Jotaro’s eyes are full of a deep emotion that almost looks like regret. “Jouta, no,” he says, quiet but firm. “I’ve always cherished you.”

Jouta takes a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands. Jotaro gives him a moment.

When he feels composed enough to continue the conversation, he says, “Do you think Dad will be alright?”

“Reinforcements are coming,” Jotaro says. His gaze is distant, unfocused. “There’s no better man than Josuke, for this job. Noriaki will be fine.”

“It scared me, when he spoke about death,” Jouta admits.

“I know,” Jotaro says. He gets up, offers Jouta a hand, which Jouta takes, letting Jotaro pull him up. “It scared me, too.”

The two of them stand in the doorway of the kitchen silently, surveying the scene. Noriaki’s asleep on the couch, Star Platinum kneeling by their side, their upper body in Noriaki’s grasp, a hand running through Noriaki’s hair. This makes sense, since they’re too big for the couch. Still…

“That looks uncomfortable as fuck,” Jouta says. “Your knees alright?”

Jotaro actually smiles, strangely enough. “They hurt,” he acknowledges. “But the most important thing is Noriaki’s comfort, not mine.”

Jouta’s heart feels strangely warmed by all this. Whatever happens, he and Jotaro will face it together. Not that anything bad will happen, will it? Dad will be fine. He’s got to be fine.

Still, he knocks his shoulder against Jotaro’s. “As long as you know it, big guy,” he says. He snatches Jotaro’s cap as he walks by, murmuring softly enough not to wake Noriaki, “I’m heading off to catch some sleep now. You should give it a try.”

“Won’t sleep no matter what,” Jotaro says. “But thanks, I think.”

Jouta grins as he puts on Jotaro’s white cap, aware of how it matches his nightwear, grey and white striped PJs. He makes a silly hand gesture as he reaches the top of the stairs, before he heads off into his bedroom, closing the door. He misses hearing Jotaro’s chuckle, or seeing the way Jotaro looks fondly at a sleeping Noriaki, murmuring quiet enough not to wake him, “He’s your son alright, isn’t he.”

Chapter Text

Jouta wakes up next morning when the doorbell rings, and bounces downstairs in his socks, with more enthusiasm than normal. He flits downstairs, glancing at a still-asleep Noriaki, and more or less pushing Jotaro out of the way as he and Charmy begin to unlock the door in a series of synchronised movements.

“Yare yare,” Jotaro grumbles, but doesn’t protest. Not that he has any grounds to. It is Jouta’s house.

There’s the sound of something shifting, and Jotaro glances over his shoulder. “Noriaki’s awake,” he tells Jouta. “You greet the visitors, I’ll see if he needs anything.”

“And why not the other way around?” Jouta asks, scowling.

“Because Star Platinum is better suited to caretaking, for now,” Jotaro points out. “Unless Charmy can carry Noriaki without jostling him. Or stop time.”

“Fine, old man,” Jouta grumbles, though he will admit Jotaro has a point. If the time-stop, as overpowered as it is, turns out to be the thing that saves Noriaki’s life, Jouta will never forgive himself if he turns out to be the person standing in its way. “His life is literally in your hands. Capisce?”

“Of course,” Jotaro says, tone even as ever. And then he literally disappears from Jouta’s line of vision, which… fucking time-stop.

With Charmy’s help, Jouta gets the elaborate lock mechanism of the front door down at record speed. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says, leaning out, “I’m Jouta Kakyoin and it’s so nice to meet you…”

He pauses, scanning the crowd. He doesn’t recognise any faces, with one exception, and – “Holy shit, Giorno!”

Not caring much for how it looks like to the other three visitors, he abandons all courtesy, practically throwing himself down the stairs and launching into Giorno’s arms.

“Whoa,” Giorno says, but he’s laughing quietly, at the same time that the man next to Giorno goes “Hey hey HEY! No hugging the boss!”

“Mista, it’s fine,” Giorno says. “Jouta gets to hug me. He doesn’t need to ask. He’s family.”

“I’m family too!” one of the men says, and Jouta pulls away from the hug, looking at him. His most distinguishing feature is his pompadour, but the pout on his face doesn’t look that different from the sort of expression he’s come to recognise on great-grandpa Joseph’s face, in all the photo albums. “Why don’t I get hug privileges, huh, Giorno?”

“That’s because you’re a baby, Higashikata,” says the last man in the group. He’s wearing a crop top with suspenders, his hair dyed various shades of green and held up with a fancy headband, and two fountain-pen nibs turned earrings dangling from his ears.

Jouta kind of likes his style, in an abstract way. But he thinks the pompadoured man, in his blue and yellow cardigan and skinny jeans, with peace sign and heart symbol brooches, looks a lot more comfortable.

“You must be my great-uncle Josuke,” Jouta realises, putting the pieces together. He extends a formal hand. “Nice to meet you. I love your hairdo... and your style, really.”

Josuke gasps, delighted. “You do? That’s so fucking great! Awww, man!”

“Anyway, I shouldn’t make small talk here,” Jouta says. He smiles nervously, hopes they’ll forgive him this oversight. “Come on inside.”

As they enter, he asks the green haired man, “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Hmph. It’s Kishibe, Rohan Kishibe, surely you’ve heard of Pink Dark Boy…” the man, who’d seemed offended at his praise of Josuke, looks even more annoyed now.

“Babe, now is not the time for self-promo, shut your lid,” Josuke says cheerfully. Jouta gets the sense that this is a conversation that occurs on a daily basis. “Where’s your dad? I mean, Kakyoin-san, since Jotaro’s also your dad?”

“Jotaro’s not my dad,” Jouta huffs. Josuke gives him a look. “I mean, not in any way that counts.”

“Hey…” Josuke begins, but Giorno cuts him off.

“Not the time, and also not our business,” he says, but he manages to be pleasant about it. He gives Josuke a sunny smile. “Let’s heal Noriaki-san first, okay?”

Josuke sighs, apparently not taking any offense from the shutdown. “Damn Gio, you’re so fucking weeirrd,” he says, pronouncing weird as two long-drawn syllables. “Okay, where’s my goddamned nephew?”

“Here,” Jotaro says, walking into the corridor, frowning. “You don’t need to cuss so much, Josuke.” His expression focuses on Giorno, intense in a way that makes Jouta’s metaphorical hackles rise. “What is he doing here?”  

“It was Koichi’s idea,” Josuke says, frowning. “My stand has its limits, when it comes to healing. If there was something I couldn’t fix, Gio can always make something anew. Especially because of the organ transplants and Kakyoin-san’s pre-existing disabilities, you know I can’t just patch him up entirely with Crazy Diamond. So if there was something beyond my abilities, or something that needed a different approach…”

“I’m here for the same reason,” Rohan says, a frown on his face that matches the one on Josuke’s. “I can use Heaven’s Door to read back through his mind, to see if something’s causing this condition or if something needs to be changed. If it’s a stand attack, and if it’s something Josuke and Giorno can’t fix, I can help us understand it better.”

Jouta feels his stomach sinking. Something Josuke and Giorno can’t fix… Could it be that severe?

“Still,” Jotaro all but growls. “You didn’t think to inform me? This is my first time meeting Giorno Giovanna. I would like to be prepared.”

“This is why I didn’t inform you,” Josuke says, frustrated. “Koichi mentioned that you had problems with his dad, but Giorno is not his dad – ”

“That’s not the point,” Jotaro says, frowning. “I would still have liked to know – ”

“Shut up!” Jouta snaps despite himself. Everyone’s head swivels to face him in a single synchronised moment, which would be a lot funnier if the context were different. “You don’t live here. You don’t get to call the shots. Let’s wake up Dad and see what he has to say. Giorno’s been wonderful and kind, and he’s helped us before when Dad had medical issues, which you don’t know about, because you weren’t even here! Jotaro, I trust him, even if you don’t, so you can take your personal issues with his father to a therapist session or something! I’ll even pay, if you need me to! Just fucking stop making more problems!”

Josuke lets out a startled breath, and Rohan looks alarmed. Jotaro’s expression barely changes, but it’s Giorno who speaks up.

“Jouta, I think Jotaro-san’s reservations with me are valid,” Giorno says, softly. “Out of all the people who have hurt your family and your parents, I doubt anyone’s done more harm than my father did. If Jotaro-san is being stern and paranoid about me, he’s doing it out of concern. I don’t grudge him that protectiveness. If he needs proof that I am nothing like my father, he has every right to ask. Please do not be angry with him. Your family is already going through so much. I will not be the cause for further conflict.”

“You don’t understand,” Jouta murmurs. He suddenly wants to be anywhere but there. “He…” then he blinks, as Charmy grabs his ankle and tugs gently. “I need a moment,” he tells the small group that’s gathered there. “Do not follow me.”

He enters the living room, and walks over to the sofa. Noriaki is looking at him with concerned eyes.

“How much of that did you hear?” Jouta asks, blinking wet eyes.

“Everything that you said, not much else,” Noriaki says. He’s still lying on the sofa, but he struggles to sit up, and Jouta rushes over to his side, ready to tell his dad not to exert himself. But then Noriaki opens his arms, and Jouta is gentle about it, but he accepts the hug, pressing his wet face into his father’s shoulder, even as he has to kneel to do it.

“I didn’t mean to fuck up,” he murmurs into Noriaki’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Noriaki says, running a hand through Jouta’s hair. “I promised Giorno he would always be welcome here. I’m not surprised you came to his defence like that.”

“Giorno refuted it,” Jouta says. “He said Jotaro had every right. Something about his father hurting our family?”

Noriaki sighs. He looks infinitely tired. “Does the name Dio mean anything to you?”

Jouta shrugs. “Jotaro might’ve mentioned him before,” he says. Not a lie. “I don’t know much about him, but I know he hurt you.”

“He wanted to kill every Joestar alive,” Noriaki says, bluntly. “He tried to get me to assassinate Jotaro. That’s how we met, actually.”

“That sounds horrible,” Jouta says, softly. He shifts his head, looking at the blank expression on Noriaki’s face. “I can’t imagine you doing that.”

“Dio had his methods of forcing people to do things they would never do under ordinary circumstances,” Noriaki says. He’s not looking at Jouta, his gaze distant. “It was horrible, yes.”

“That’s really fucked up,” Jouta says, not sure what else to say that conveys the depth of what he’s feeling. Noriaki’s little hum in response confirms that his dad understands, though.

“Giorno is nothing like Dio,” Jouta says, moving back to the previous conversation.

“Yes sweetheart, I know, and I agree,” Noriaki says. “If Jotaro was hostile to him, I am not excusing those actions. But you need to understand… Dio’s one of the few people who really terrified us; me and Jotaro both. He was very powerful and very cruel. If Giorno has inherited any of Dio’s abilities, he would be indescribably powerful. What you and I know, that Jotaro does not know yet, is that Gio isn’t cruel. Jotaro likely reacted out of fear. Which doesn’t make it any better, or take away the impact of a rude welcome. But it’s fixable, is what I’m trying to say. You know what I mean?”

Jouta shifts out of Noriaki’s embrace, sits on the floor by the couch. “You think I fucked up,” he says drily.

“No,” Noriaki says. “You spoke your mind. I will always be proud of that, of having a son who doesn’t fear saying what goes on in his head. That’s admirable. But right now, if Giorno is here, and Jotaro is uncomfortable, that’s a conflict we want to resolve. Right? We don’t want to accidentally aggravate it.”

“I fucked up,” Jouta says again, softly.

“No Jojo, you didn’t,” Noriaki asserts, and this time it sounds firm. “I’m proud of you. But please go and do damage control. Send Josuke and whoever else came with him in here, and talk to Giorno and Jotaro on your own. Sounds like a plan?”

“Of course, Dad,” Jouta confirms. “I’m on it.”

“Love you, kid,” Noriaki says, as he watches Jouta leave.

Jouta sniffles despite himself at that. “Love you too,” he has Charmy transmit to Noriaki, a tendril gently squeezing his fingers before it follows Jouta out.

When Jouta leaves the living room, he can’t find anyone in the corridor he’d left them in. He shifts to the kitchen, which is mostly empty, and then moves to the adjacent room, which is the dining room, and turns out to be the lucky guess. Everyone is sitting at the table, drinking tea using one of the cute teasets, the white ones with the cherry printed border on the cups and saucers. Jouta had gotten Noriaki that as a Father’s Day gift, and Noriaki had often complained about it not being used enough.

Star Platinum pulls out a chair for him, and he sits down gingerly, giving everyone a cautious glance. “I’m sorry for causing a scene,” he says, softly.

Josuke and Rohan exchange a look, but it doesn’t seem mean-spirited as much as it seems sympathetic and concerned. Giorno doesn’t say anything, nor does Mista. Jotaro’s expression is completely hidden by the brim of his cap.

“Nah man, you haven’t got a thing to apologise for,” Josuke says, finally breaking the silence. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure, and we can understand that. I personally totally get it. Even though my grandfather was around for most of my childhood, my mom raised me more or less on her own. If Mom were sick and needed a team of stand users to heal her real good, I’d be stressed as shit, too, like, I’m talking breaking things and crying and being difficult to console. When you’ve just got one parent who’s present, they’re kinda like, your whole world, you know?” He shrugs. “No offence, Jotaro-san.”

“None taken,” Jotaro says.

“Hey, Dad was asking for you,” Jouta says, looking at Josuke. “And Rohan too, I think.”

“Sounds chill,” Josuke says, getting up and lending Rohan a hand, which he does not let go of even after Rohan is standing. He pats Jouta’s shoulder as he walks past him. “Chin up, my dude. It’ll be fine, your dad’s a tough guy, and we’ll do everything we can to set him to rights, yeah?”

“Mm,” Jouta murmurs. “Thanks, Grunkle Josuke.”

Josuke and Rohan walk out, bickering as they go, and Jouta lets himself daydream of walking into the living room to see his dad totally fine and healthy again.

“Did you want a minute alone with us?” Giorno asks, perceptive as always. “Mista can wait by the doorway for a bit. Feed his gun, all of that.”

“Dad did ask for Josuke and his companion to go say hi,” Jouta says. “But yeah, I’d like to talk to just you and Jotaro. If that’s okay.”

“Sure is, my lad,” Mista says, before getting up and walking off to the doorway. “Holler if you need me, yea, Boss?”

“Obviously,” Giorno says almost irritably, but he’s grinning. His smile sobers down into a more neutral expression as he looks at Jouta, and then at Jotaro. “So, what were we saying?”

“I already said this while you were talking to Noriaki,” Jotaro says, gruffly, but he looks at Jouta, moving his cap a little so Jouta can actually make eye-contact with him, “but Jouta, you weren’t wrong about anything you said. I’m here to support Noriaki and to support you. If Giorno is someone the two of you trust, then I trust your judgement. And I said this to Giorno, but I’ll say it to him again. Giorno, I know you aren’t your father. I’m sorry if it seemed like I wasn’t giving you the benefit of the doubt. I don’t believe in the ‘guilty ‘til proven innocent’ metric, and I didn’t intend to treat you that way. I was taken aback, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“And I’ll tell Jouta what I said earlier, too,” Giorno says. “I did want to call ahead and let Jotaro know that I would be coming, but Koichi advised me not to. He said that Jotaro would trust me more if I had that conversation face-to-face with him.”

“Uhh, who’s Koichi?” Jouta asks.

“One of Josuke’s friends,” Jotaro says, at the same time that Giorno says, voice very serious, “A reliable guy.” It sounds like Giorno’s quoting someone, and if Jotaro’s huff is anything to go by, it might very well be Jotaro himself who is being quoted.

The heartfelt conversation is cut short by the sound of Josuke, saying at a louder volume than normal, “HEY, GIOVANNA! Lend a hand here?”

Giorno murmurs something which, if Jouta heard right, might just be swear words in Italian, and then heads over to the living room with Mista following at his heels.

“Fuck,” Jouta murmurs to himself. His hands clench into fists, and he bites his lip.

Jotaro doesn’t move to do anything, but Jouta feels a ghostly almost-there sensation of a hand on his shoulder, and looks up to see Star Platinum… is Jotaro’s stand trying to comfort him?

“Thanks Star,” he murmurs. “Hey, Jotaro?”

“Hm?” Jotaro isn’t looking at him. Jouta can’t tell what he’s looking at; it’s that damned cap. Not that Jouta has any scope to complain, he’s got a cap on, too.

“We good?” Jouta asks, oddly nervous.

“You tell me,” Jotaro says, finally looking at Jouta.

Jouta meets his gaze. “All I do is shout at you. Shouldn’t you tell me?”

“You’re being rational about it, mostly,” Jotaro says. “I don’t think anything you’ve said to me has been particularly unfair, given the circumstances. I’m good with it if you are.”

“Damn, you gotta raise your standards, man,” Jouta says, but he finds himself smiling despite that. “A dynamic in which you get yelled at all the time is not healthy.”

“Like you said, I’ve been gone a while,” Jotaro points out. “I can’t expect to just waltz back into your life and fit in neatly.”

“Mmm,” Jouta says. He gazes at the dining room door, thinks of Dad in the living room, sprawling on that couch while their duo of healers try and eradicate whatever the problem is. “You think he’ll be okay?”

Jotaro stands up abruptly, the sound of his chair’s legs scraping against the kitchen floor very loud. He offers Jouta a hand as he says, “Why don’t we go and see?”

Jouta clutches that hand like it’s a lifeline. Jotaro doesn’t seem put off by the desperation in Jouta’s grip. In fact, he squeezes back; not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to serve a remainder that Jouta isn’t alone in this.

I’m right here with you, Jotaro’s saying, not in words but in actions, as he leads Jouta into the living room. Jouta walks alongside him, holding onto Jotaro’s hand. For the first time in over a decade, Jouta thinks he can actually believe that.

Chapter Text

The sound of what Jouta recognises as cussing in Italian, followed by hushed voices and the sound of his dad protesting, loudly in Japanese, “DON’T,” are enough of a cause for Jouta to get up, ready to run, Charmy already stretching out. He blinks, and he’s already in the living room, Jotaro right by his side and everyone staring at them.

“Sorry,” Jotaro murmurs. “It was the fastest way.”

“Thank you,” Jouta says at the same time. As far as he’s concerned, Jotaro has nothing to apologise for. They don’t exactly have time for a conversation either; a stand that looks like a baby in a top hat is approaching Noriaki tentatively, so time is of essence.

The stand looks cute, but Jouta knows appearances can be deceiving. Dad’s too tired to shoot off an Emerald Splash with Hierophant, so both he and Charmy move in a single movement, throwing themselves between Noriaki and the stand.

“Hey,” Rohan says, hands raised in the air to show he’s holding no weapon, as if the fucking baby in a tophat isn’t a weapon in its own right. It’s obviously his stand by mere process of elimination. “Jouta, I want to help Nori-san. You know that.”

“Nori-san?” Jouta says, at the same time that Jotaro walks over, standing next to Jouta.

“Get his consent first,” Jotaro says firmly, “if you want to help him.”

Rohan looks like he’s going to cry. “I thought I had it,” he says faintly, and his stand disappears.

Jouta calls Charmy back as well, and a weak tentacle of Hierophant nudges at Jotaro’s hip, as if asking him to move aside. Jotaro shifts, sitting by the couch like he’d done when they were playing video games, and one of Noriaki’s hands settles on the top of Jotaro’s hat, like determining that he’s real.

“Rohan-chan is right,” Noriaki says softly, looking at Jouta. “I initially said I was alright with it. He wasn’t attacking me. I just changed my mind.”

“I should have called my stand back,” Rohan acknowledges. “I wasn’t going to read you without permission. Nori-san, I thought if Heaven’s Door could get closer maybe you’d relax a little, but I understand that it looked like an attack from the outside. I’m sorry to all three of you.”

Josuke’s hand shifts to settle on Rohan’s shoulder as he murmurs, “Babe, you didn’t know.”

“Rohan-chan?” Jouta repeats.

“I used to babysit him when I was a teenager,” Noriaki says cheerfully, the tone switch abrupt enough to be disorienting. “Brat of a child, he was.”

“Like you weren’t a little shit also! You’d make me go to bed early and then watch TV,” Rohan says, frowning.

“I followed the bedtime I was asked to follow, what d’you mean, early?” Noriaki retorts.

“Okay okay okay, hold on,” Jouta says. “This is fucking absurd. Not… the babysitting, though that too, I just mean. Everything. I have so many questions and zero answers and I need a coffee. With whiskey in it, preferably.”

“Jouta,” Noriaki exhales tiredly. “I thought we agreed alcohol was for special occasions only.”

“Yeah, ‘cause this happens every day,” Jouta grumbles. “Christ, Dad.”

“Jojo, while I’m all for lacing your coffee with hard liquor,” Jotaro says, (and the use of the nickname from him makes Jouta turn to face him in surprise,) “it’s not going to make you feel better. It’ll only make you feel worse. You shouldn’t use it as an emotional crutch. I’d advise against it, even if you deserve that damn drink, because you do deserve that drink and I’ll even mix it for you if you want, but let Noriaki recover fully first, alright? However bad you’re feeling now, the alcohol won’t fix that. Trust me, I know.”

“You… you do?” Jouta blinks.

“Story for another day,” Jotaro says, at the same time that Noriaki giggles manically, murmuring, “God, Jotaro. That ICU Nurse from Egypt probably wants to put the fear of God into you.”

“That’s one hospital I’m never going to be allowed entry into again, for sure,” Jotaro agrees, smiling grimly. “But again, story for another day. I’ll tell Jouta everything about my teenage bullshit drama so he can laugh at me, but let’s focus on the situation here. Jojo, you said you had questions?”

“If I may interrupt?” Giorno doesn’t even look nervous, despite his previous interaction with Jotaro going less than smoothly. “Jouta said he’d prefer whiskey in his coffee, but he didn’t say he wouldn’t have it otherwise. Mista and I have some stellar coffee recipes, no alcohol included but they’ll satisfy your craving and give you something nice to drink. If you’d be so kind as to let me exploit your kitchen, Noriaki.”

“Go for it, Gio, who am I to stop you,” Noriaki says, but he’s smiling warmly, so the words have no bite. “While you’re at it, anyone else want anything?”

“Ay! We ain’t caterers, watch it!” Mista says, scowling. Giorno murmurs something in Italian that Jouta doesn’t catch, and Mista gives Gio a look, like he’s going to yell at him, but simply grumbles something in Italian and says in English, “Don’t expect us to make you traditional Japanese food, though.”

”I could try,” Giorno laughs, “but I don’t think I’ll be any good.”

Jotaro frowns, like he’s thinking about something. He doesn’t say anything though, except for a quiet request for some coffee as well. Josuke and Rohan say they want coffee too. Noriaki wants some more soup, but Jouta’s quick to remind him that they finished the last of that already. Giorno doesn’t seem too dismayed by this turn of events, promising to make a great soup from scratch, no problem.  

Mista walks towards the kitchen, and Giorno is about to follow him before Jotaro says to him, softly enough that only Noriaki, Jouta, and Giorno hear, “If you do want to cook traditional Japanese food. My mom has compiled lots of recipes, and she spent twenty years writing all of them down. Her original cookbooks are written entirely in Italian; I could always send you a xerox.”

Giorno’s eyes light up, and he switches over to Italian, thanking Jotaro and asking him a question that Jouta isn’t sure he understands. When Jotaro responds in fluent Italian, he smiles, nods, and then runs off to the kitchen where Mista’s been waiting patiently for him.

“Awww, Jojo,” Noriaki says, and Jouta’s head turns, because he’d thought that was addressed to him for a minute. “Look at you making nice.”

“Shut up, enough trivialities,” Jotaro says, but Jouta can see the light pink blush that even the brim of his hat does not hide. “Your son had questions.”

Noriaki sighs, before calling Rohan and Josuke, who’d been standing in the opposite corner of the room, having a quiet discussion, asking them to come closer. They both startle before they walk together in almost perfect sync. Jouta notices one of Josuke’s hands on Rohan’s lower back.

They come closer, sitting next to Jotaro to form a semi-circle of sorts, facing Noriaki on the sofa. Jouta sits down, too.

“You said you’d only use your stand if both my Grunkles’ healing stands didn’t work,” Jouta says to Rohan, cutting directly to the point. “And Dad’s still lying on the couch and Hierophant isn’t around, so I’m assuming that’s the case, and it didn’t work. I’ve seen Gio in action, he’s powerful, and if Jotaro’s so sure about Josuke’s power, I know that’ll be reliable as well. But Dad’s still sick…”

Rohan looks at Josuke, who looks at Rohan, and then looks at Noriaki. Noriaki shrugs.

“Sweetie, they did their best,” Noriaki says comfortingly. It doesn’t do much to comfort Jouta.

“Jouta,” Josuke says, “When I use Crazy Diamond, I can sense the status of the entities I’m trying to fix. I know what something was before, what it can transform into. When using it on people or animals, I can tell what their health is like, and that allows me to fix injuries, no matter how severe, as well as complicated illnesses, because CD can tell what needs to be reverted. When I tried to use it on your Dad…” he frowns, looking genuinely perplexed, “my stand reported back that he was in perfect health.”

“But he’s not,” Jouta points out. “He’s tired and feverish and weak. He can barely summon his own stand! And none of the doctors I’ve called have any idea what’s causing the illness, they think it’s a minor flu, but Hierophant’s never been like this, so of course he’s not in good health!”

“I know, Jojo,” Josuke says. “But, hey, why don’t you give it a try.”

“I can’t heal Dad,” Jouta says, not understanding the point.

“No, but you can use Charmy to scope, I’m assuming,” Josuke says. “I’ve seen Hierophant in action, and Noriaki mentioned that your stand is quite similar in functionality –  ”

“When have you seen Hierophant in action?” Jouta asks, scowling. “What are all of you not telling me?”

“One question at a time, we’ll answer everything, peanut. I promise,” Noriaki says. The hand that’s not on Jotaro’s head gives Jouta’s shoulder a weak squeeze.

“Wrap Charmy around your Dad,” Josuke instructs. “Can you assess his state of being?”

“It’s not the most accurate,” Jouta says. “I thought of that, but I didn’t try, because in the past I’ve only been able to get vague feelings, nothing concrete…”

“Try,” Josuke insists.

Partially to humour him and partially to see if maybe there’s something he can do, Jouta lets his stand curl around his father, focusing on the input Charmy’s sending him. His stand can tell that Noriaki is overheating, and is cold, but beyond that…

“He feels the same as always,” Jouta murmurs, withdrawing Charmy. He thinks of all the times his stand’s given his father a hug, and thinks of the few times his stand had tried to take care of his father, and been able to assess that he wasn’t in his usual state of being. Even if the data analysed was weak, there was something to go on… but this time, Noriaki feels more or less healthy, even though Jouta knows better.

“Exactly,” Josuke confirms. “So I called Giorno in for help. He’s good at going at a more internal level, he can even go subatomic when required. He found the same result. Noriaki’s body doesn’t have any sort of biological or physical problems. His organs are functioning absolutely normally. But there’s still something weakening him. We think it might be a stand user’s attack on him, something like that. Rohan’s our best bet now, because he can look into what the past few days, and maybe even past few weeks, have been like for your dad, to see if there’s something we missed, something maybe even your dad doesn’t know. If anything’s happened that’s out of the ordinary…”

Giorno and Mista enter, breaking the tension of the moment with cups of coffee for everyone, and a bowl of soup for Noriaki, as requested.

“And you don’t want Rohan’s stand in your head because?” Jouta asks. He hears Jotaro take a startled exhale; one of the first responses he’s registered from the other man, who’s been quiet for most of this explanation.

“Remember how I told you Dio made me do things I would never usually do?” Noriaki smiles, but there’s no humour to it. “He got inside my head to do it. Call me paranoid, but even from an ally… I’d rather not allow that sort of enquiry. It’s too terrifying.”

“That’s fucked up,” Jouta murmurs, softly enough that only his dad and Jotaro can hear him, “So, so fucked up. Dad, I’m so sorry he did that to you.”

Noriaki’s hand squeezes his shoulder again, in silent acknowledgement.

“But,” Jouta continues just as softly, and he feels awful as he says it, guilty, like he’s betraying his dad, “what if that turns out to be the thing that saves you?”

 He puts down his coffee, unsipped, and looks up at Noriaki, blinking away tears. “I don’t want to lose you,” he says, “and if there’s anything, anything at all…”

Noriaki’s gone very still. Jotaro carefully takes the soup bowl from his hands, afraid it’ll spill, and Noriaki just lets him.

“Jouta,” Jotaro says, finally. “We’ll find a workaround. We shouldn’t pressurize Noriaki…”

“Jotaro, I don’t want to pressure him either!” Jouta blinks away tears, scowling at the traitors his tear ducts have turned out to be. “But if the other alternative is him not surviving this…”

“He’s got a point,” Noriaki says, cutting them off. “Maybe, if there’s no other choice…”

“I could read Jouta,” Rohan suggests, and heads turn to look at him. “From what I’ve gathered here, you’ve been taking care of your dad on your own, so maybe there’s something in your memories I can use?”

“Fair enough,” Jouta says. “I’ll consent to that.”

“It’s not enough of a workaround,” Noriaki says. “There have been times, such as when Jouta was at school, that he wouldn’t have been around me. I’ve spent enough time alone that there’s a possibility of something strange having happened during those instances. In which case, reading me might be the only way.”

Jotaro looks conflicted. “Noriaki…”

“Read me first,” Jouta says, not breaking eye-contact with Noriaki. “If there’s nothing that can be gained from that, then we’ll move on to reading you. Hopefully, if we’re lucky, just reading me will be enough.”

“That makes sense,” Noriaki says.

“Rohan, if you pry where he hasn’t allowed you to, Star Platinum will personally kick your ass,” Jotaro says evenly, but the weight of the threat is all too visible in the glare he gives the other man.

“Crazy Diamond will do it first,” Josuke says, but he’s not looking at Rohan; he’s looking at Jotaro. “But I can personally vouch for him. He’s not a shady douchebag anymore, at least. Summer of ’99 taught him some real ethics and morals, and he’s stuck to those. You can trust him, Jotaro-san.”

Summer of 99? Jouta wants to ask. But there’ll be time for that later.

“Wait, let me finish my coffee before it gets cold,” Jouta says. He takes a sip, and then takes another, drinking it as fast as is humanely possible to drink hot coffee without burning his tongue. “Thank you, Gio and Mista, this is really good.”

It’s good enough that Jouta even manages to smile, right after, when Rohan tosses Heaven’s Door at him. Noriaki is holding his hand firmly, though Jouta isn’t sure whether his dad wants to comfort, or to be comforted, given the strangeness of the process.

Jouta doesn’t know if there’s anything in his head that can help his father, as his face splits into paper and pops open, Rohan’s hands carefully flipping through. All that matters is that he’s giving it his best shot. He squeezes his dad’s fingers gently, reassuringly.

Chapter Text

“You should be proud of this kid,” Rohan says, finally, after some flipping through the pages. “He really cares for you, Nori-san.”

“Any answers?” Noriaki asks.

“I’m afraid not,” Rohan finally says. He looks at Noriaki with obvious regret in his eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

“I understand,” Noriaki says. He takes a shaky breath, closes his eyes. “If we have to do this, I’m going to need privacy. Could we… could it just be you, me, and Jotaro?”

Jouta feels like his stomach is a sinking stone. “Dad, are you sure?”

“Yes, sweetpea,” Noriaki says gently.

As Jouta is leaving the room with everyone else, he looks over his shoulder one last time. Noriaki is practically sitting on Jotaro’s lap, but he’s got his legs stretched out in front of him, and is sprawling. One of Jotaro’s hands is holding Noriaki’s hand while the other one is on his face, thumb rubbing circles against his cheek. Jouta feels like he’s going to be sick, and he turns away.

He’s sitting at the table with Giorno, Mista, and Josuke, who bring out a pack of cards, and begin to play various card games he’s never heard of, but is only too ready to learn. The other three involve him from the very beginning, and it helps take his mind off everything that’s worrying him. Other than just his dad’s condition, there’s also the fact that he’s a stranger to so much of his family, family on Jotaro’s side, the new and ever-persisting anxiety that he doesn’t follow or fully understand what is going on, and worst of all, the helplessness.

Giorno and Josuke both cheat at cards, in ways that Jouta can tell counts for cheating, but can’t call them out on. Mista often blows his own chances at winning if he’s gotten cards he deems “unlucky.” Jouta takes a while to fully understand the rules of the games, before he begins to give as good as he gets, competitive nights with Noriaki when they played card games, and a book he’d borrowed from the library years ago about sleight of hand helping even out the odds.

They’ve played three games when the phone rings, and Jouta gets up to answer it. It’s Joseph, his great-grandfather on Jotaro’s side. He doesn’t talk to Jouta much, except for birthday and Christmas calls, but he asks if he can speak to Jotaro, and how Noriaki is doing. Jouta updates him on the situation glumly and vaguely, not in the mood to hash it out again, and then looks to his side, startled, as Josuke walks towards him.

“Joseph?” he mouths, and at Jouta’s nod, asks for the phone with a hand gesture.  

“Heyyy, Jiji,” he drawls, rolling his eyes a little. It makes Jouta smile, but the smile isn’t long-lived. “Yeah, of course I’m here. Reinforcements. What, no, don’t say that. Never took you to be a pessimist, and besides, it doesn’t feel like that. There’s still plenty of fight left in him, plenty of hope in the situation. You know how the Kakyoins are. They don’t stay down when they’re hit, or whatever the saying is. Uhhh, I don’t know, I didn’t ask Jotaro. Yeah, Jolyne must be with Seiko, but I figured now wasn’t the time to ask about all that. Listen, is there anything of merit you actually have to say? Nah, Hamon ain’t gonna work, Giorno already gave that a shot. Yes, he’s here too. Okay, I’ll tell him you said hi. Give Shizu my hello and my regards, yeah? Okay, okay, I’ll tell Noriaki-san you sent your best regards too. Geez. And  I’ll tell Jotaro-san to call you back. Byeeeee.”

“Jiji thinks Dad’s situation is pretty bad,” Jouta infers the moment Josuke’s put the phone down.

Josuke sighs, looking at him, not evading the question or the awkward situation. “It’s mostly because I’m here. I don’t typically play family healer unless I’ve gotta do it, if there’s no other choice. I was down to help out a lot more, but Jotaro-san put his foot down, actually. Said I’d get burnt out from all the healing if I put taking care of other people first, before taking care of me.”

It’s good advice, Jouta supposes. But it makes him wonder about Jotaro’s worldview. Has Jotaro been putting himself first too? Could some part of staying away be due to the burnout that living with them had allowed to fester? Jotaro’s behaviour and existence never fails to leave Jouta with more questions than answers.

“And who’s Jolyne?” Jouta asks.

Josuke goes still, freezing in place. Jouta is all too aware of Giorno and Mista staring at him as well.

“I’m not really sure it’s my place to tell you,” Josuke begins to say, hesitantly.

Jouta’s usually more controlled, usually less of an asshole than he is in that moment. Usually, he can control Charmy to a large extent. However, in that moment, Charmy manifests, tendrils curling around Josuke and raising him in the air, slamming him against the wall and holding him in place. A subconscious reflex that Jouta can’t bring himself to feel too bad about, given everything.

“I’m fucking done with people not telling me shit,” he hisses. “Seiko is my grandmother’s Japanese nickname, I know that. Who the fuck is Jolyne and why is she staying with Jotaro’s mother?”

“Jouta,” Giorno says gently, “I think it’s better if you redirect your questions to Noriaki or to Jotaro –”

“Giorno, please,” Jouta says. He feels like he’s either going to start sobbing, or start screaming, and his voice reflects it. “I love you and respect you dearly, but you have no fucking idea what I’m going through right now. Okay? Can someone just fucking tell me who Jolyne is already?”

“Jolyne is Jotaro’s daughter,” Josuke says. “I’m assuming your parents had some rationale behind not telling you. Could you put me down now, please?”

Jouta does, and is graceful and gentle as he does it. It’s not Josuke’s fault that his parents never old him about the entire existence of a sister, and he already feels guilty about his lack of control, pinning Josuke against a wall to extort information from him.

Still, the guilt is very mild and is secondary to the shock. He has a sister. Jotaro not telling Jouta is par for the course, to be expected. But Jouta had never in a million years imagined Noriaki keeping a secret of this magnitude from him.

The door opens, and Rohan steps out. He looks exhausted. “I tried my best, I couldn’t find anything suspicious though,” he begins to explain, and then frowns, looking at Josuke’s expression and Jouta’s defensive stance. “Is everything alright here?”

“No,” Jouta says. “I need a moment alone with my parents.” That said, he opens the door to the living room, walks in, and closes it.

Noriaki is lying on the sofa, looking tired and frail. If Jouta were a perfect person, his anger would likely evaporate at the mere sight of his dad looking like that. Instead, he feels even worse, like something is tearing him up inside physically, literally and not metaphorically.

“Dad,” Jouta says, and he’s aware that his tone’s coming out all wrong, rough and jagged. “Jotaro.”

“Yes, my little dove? What’s wrong?” Noriaki asks.

Jouta can’t look at him anymore. He looks at Jotaro instead, who meets his gaze evenly. “Were either of you EVER going to tell me that I have a sister?”

Noriaki takes a shaky breath. Jotaro looks at Noriaki, and then looks back at Jouta.

“Our family has many enemies,” Noriaki begins, but Jouta can’t handle this anymore. He needs to clear his head, and he can’t stand to be in this house, with this family that’s so full of secrets anymore.

“So that’s a no. Okay. Okay, that’s fine.” Jouta exhales, feeling the sort of calm numbness that preludes the worst kind of breakdowns. “I’m going for a walk. I need some time to process this.”

“Jouta,” Noriaki tries, again, but Jouta doesn’t respond, and doesn’t feel any guilt about it, either. He’s furious and confused, aching inside in a way that’s hard to put into words or even really understand. Everything hurts, and Jouta is bitter and angry.

Jotaro watches silently, doing nothing to stop him as Jouta walks out of the living room, and storms out of the front door. Giorno, Josuke, Mista and Rohan are sitting in a tiny circle, close enough to each other that their shoulders are brushing, talking quietly enough that Jouta can’t hear them. Jouta feels like a little kid. An inconvenience. The menace to be babysat. The afterthought in the family.

Nobody stops him as he opens the door and steps outside. Nobody follows him as he makes the twenty-minute walk down to the abandoned arcade, his number one comfort spot, either. And most expected, yet most painful of all, is how nobody hears him cry, softly and desperately to himself, tendrils of Charmy curling around him, trying to offer some form of comfort for a betrayal that he’d never even dared to imagine.

Through the anger, there’s still the fear. He’s worried about his dad. Noriaki is all he has, when it comes to family, and despite keeping a secret this big, despite hurting Jouta this acutely, Jouta will always love him and care for him and worry about him.

It’s lonely, that’s what it is. Being Jouta Kakyoin. Knowing nothing about the Joestar family, and realising he’s been deliberately kept out of the loop. In that moment, it feels like he has nobody. Just him and Charmy.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Chapter Text

Jouta gets maybe an hour to himself or so, at the old and abandoned arcade that is his standard refuge for when things go wrong. It’s boarded up and decrepit, difficult to break into without a stand or some other sort of special ability. He’s always used Charmy to propel himself upwards, sneaking in through a broken part of the window, and then made his way carefully down to where the machines that no longer work are still there, to the one corner that’s his safe space.

An old acoustic guitar that belongs to him is still there, and there’s a soft mat on the floor. This is where he goes when the weight of the world is getting too much, or when he needs to hide from people. The only other person who knows where it is is his dad, since he’s never needed to hide from Noriaki before, and besides, Noriaki always respected his privacy enough not to follow him there unless asked.

Once, they’d sat there together, a few evenings after a high school party gone horribly wrong. The party was one of those experiences that leaves a clear before and after with it. A senior had spiked his drink, and Jouta hadn’t realised, drinking it with a confident, misplaced trust. Things would’ve gotten far uglier without Charmy, but that wasn’t to say that he got out of there unscathed. Jouta remembers crying into his dad’s shoulder about it. Remembers the sadness in Noriaki’s expression, the way he’d quietly admitted to being a survivor as well, how he wished it was something Jouta would never relate to.

“Do you think Kakyoins are cursed?” Jouta had murmured, eventually.

“There’s no benefit in thinking like that,” Noriaki had said, quietly. “Jotaro and his line of the family have always believed that Joestars are cursed, and while I understand why they think that, it just adds anxiety to how you perceive yourself, over things you can’t control. We’ve just got to be stronger than whatever the universe holds, Jouta. Even if we are cursed, we have to be more stubborn than the curse itself.”

“I’ll try,” Jouta had murmured. “But how are you so certain we’ll be okay?”

Noriaki’s arm had pulled him closer, and he’d pressed a kiss to the top of Jouta’s head. “Because we have something to fight for, my daffodil,” he’d said.

Remembering that hurts. Jouta can’t stop thinking about Jolyne, his half-sister who must be significantly younger than him. He wonders what she’s like. Does she take after Jotaro in appearance enough that it’ll be obvious to anyone looking that the two of them are related? Or does she look like her other parent, maybe nothing but the Joestar birthmark in common between them? Is she quiet like Jotaro, or bubbly and enthusiastic like Grandma Holly?

Would she be happy to know of the existence of an elder brother? Or would she hate him? Would she feel as betrayed by Jotaro as Jouta feels by Noriaki?

He sits in his corner for a while. Initially, he feels too morose to play the guitar, but after a few minutes, Charmy passes the guitar to him, pressing it into his hands, and it’s just muscle memory after that. Jouta plays a few things he’s composed, the sadder ones, and then finds himself on a Green Day kick.

He’s playing the chords to Boulevard of Broken Dreams when he’s interrupted. The sound of a pair of footsteps has his guards up, Charmy ready to projectile the invaders with sharp peridots, an effective duplicate of Hierophant’s Emerald Splash. He stops himself from launching his Peridot Smack, though, when he sees that Giorno is in front, leading the way cautiously, while Jotaro follows his footsteps.

Jouta doesn’t want to impale Giorno with peridots. And while he’s annoyed with Jotaro, he’s not any more annoyed with Jotaro than he usually is, so the peridots will have to wait for another time.

Giorno approaches Jouta cautiously, sitting down next to him, and propping a paper bag down on a lilypad that he’s conjured out of thin air. “Here.”

Jouta inspects the gift, setting his guitar aside. It’s a takeaway delivery of a burrito and two tacos from his favourite Mexican place. He frowns, wondering if the food was Noriaki’s idea, but he had skipped lunch to camp out here, and besides, he doesn’t want the tacos to get all soggy, so he begins to eat them while they’re still hot.

Jotaro’s still standing there, watching Jouta and Giorno with an emotion in his eyes that Jouta can’t quite understand.

“Sit down, old man,” Jouta says through a mouthful of food. He swallows, and nods at Jotaro. “You’re making me nervous by hovering like that.”

Jotaro nods, and sits down quietly. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the dust that’ll inevitably stain his white coat, which is a point in his favour. Unfortunately, the unsoliticed presence of Jotaro in what is meant to be Jouta’s secret space away from the world grants him enough negative points that it doesn’t make any difference, in the larger scheme of things.

Jouta wolfs down the second taco, and then looks at both of them. “Why are you both here. Did you not get the hint that I would like to be left alone?”

“Received, and ignored,” Giorno says, matching Jouta’s sass with sass of his own. He sighs, giving Jouta a little shrug. “We were worried about you.”

Jouta doesn’t say anything.

“Noriaki was extremely concerned,” Jotaro says. “I understand that you’re angry with him and with me, but I’d ask you to hear me out. Even if I don’t deserve it.”

“Hmfp,” Jouta says, unwrapping the burrito, taking a huge bite of it. At least Jotaro is self-aware.

“He was going to come out here and look for you on his own,” Jotaro continues. “I had to physically restrain him. And he refused to calm down until I agreed to go in his stead, so here I am.”

“Of course, you’re only here because he asked you to be here,” Jouta says. “Not like you wanted to be here for your son, or anything.”

“I don’t do things I don’t want to do,” Jotaro says. “I was just as concerned, but not sure if it was my place. Still, you had questions about Jolyne, and I think you deserve answers. I’m sorry we kept the truth from you.”

Jouta puts his burrito down on Giorno’s lilypad, because it’s cleaner than any other surfaces around them. “Why did you do that?”

“It was to keep everyone safe,” Jotaro says. “I’m not sure what you know about the Joestar curse or how much of it Noriaki has told you about it. But there’s something in our blood, that connects us to each other. There are ways to enhance that connection, but also ways to detect it even at its weakest. Just by being around each other, we can tell that we’re related. It goes far deeper than just a shared birthmark. If you, Jolyne, and me are all in the same room together... think of it as a broadcast. We’re practically sending directions to our location at any given point, which can be utilised by bad actors. You have Charmy, and you’re old enough to understand danger and to keep yourself safe. Everyone currently at your house has a stand strong enough that we won’t go down without a fight. Jolyne doesn’t have a stand of her own. We weren’t sure how to explain to both of you that while you have a sibling, you can never meet or spend time together, so we just didn’t say anything. I’m sorry about how we went about this. And I know Noriaki is, too.”

“So I can never see her,” Jouta says, feeling a sinking in his stomach. “I have a sister. But for all intents and purposes it’s like she doesn’t even exist in my life.”

“I realise that this might not be fair to you,” Jotaro says. “And maybe, once things are settled with Noriaki’s health crisis, we can rediscuss this and find some kind of solution, if you want to be in her life. She’s always wanted a sibling, and I don’t want to keep you both apart if there’s a safe way for you both to be together.”

“You’re sure she doesn’t have a stand,” Jouta says. “And no means of acquiring one?”

“She doesn’t have a stand,” Jotaro confirms. “I was thinking of telling her more about stands when she’s eighteen, and giving her the choice to use a stand arrow, only if she wanted it. But the way things are going, despite everything, she might have a target on her back. I firmly suspect that there’s nothing I can do that’ll keep her safe during her adolescence. She might develop a stand on her own then, based of research from the Speedwagon Foundation... puberty does that, sometimes. And even if she doesn’t... I wonder sometimes, about talking to her when she’s fourteen or so, giving her the choice then. It’s younger than I’d like, but if someone attacks her...”

Jouta looks at the pensive look on Jotaro’s face, and isn’t sure if he’s even angry with Jotaro anymore.

“I’d still like to see her,” Jouta says. “She hangs out with the rest of your family, Jotaro. She’s literally at Grandma Holly’s place right now. Why can’t I see her?”

“Because your dad’s Noriaki,” Jotaro says, quietly. “The only thing our enemies hate more than my child? A child whose parents are me and Noriaki. The two of us aren’t solely responsible for defeating Dio, but to his followers, we may as well be. In some ways, you are in more danger than anyone else in our family.”

“Do you ever worry about me?” Jouta asks. It slips out without his meaning to say it.

“All the time,” Jotaro says. “But not as much as I do with Jolyne. You have Charmy Green, and from what Noriaki has told me, you know how to use your stand extremely well. He says that Hierophant and Charmy have a lot in common, and that he sometimes practices with you. That puts my mind at ease. If someone tries to pick a fight with you, you can fight back, and you have a fair shot at winning. Jolyne can’t see enemy stands, but you can.”

“I’d like to meet her anyway,” Jouta says. “If you have that much faith in my abilities, you should trust in my ability to keep her safe.”

Jotaro hesitates, before he nods slightly. “We will need to have this conversation with Noriaki here,” he says. “But we can work it out. Anything else you want to ask?”

“Tell me about her.”

Jotaro shifts, pulling out his wallet and opening it. Jouta glimpses the side with the pictures as Jotaro opens it up to four compartments. It’s got multiple photos in it, and Jouta catches a photo of Jotaro and Noriaki, as well as a baby photo of him, in Jotaro’s arms, before Jotaro finally finds the picture he’s looking for and slides it out, handing it to Jouta.

It’s of a young girl with space buns and a braid, her hair partially black and partially green, wearing a pink dress with white butterflies patterned on it. She’s smiling at the camera and making a peace sign with her hands. She looks like a middle schooler, likely no older than twelve.

“She’s eleven right now. She’ll turn twelve in September. She’s a Virgo, like you,” Jotaro says.

“Okay, I have another question. Why is Giorno here right now?” Jouta asks. “No offence, Gio.”

“None taken,” Giorno says, clearly unbothered. “I’m here because Jotaro asked me to come.”

Jouta blinks. He hadn’t been expecting that. “You did?” he asks Jotaro.

“You and Giorno seemed close,” Jotaro says. “You were upset about Jolyne, understandably so. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you turned me away, and if you did, I thought it’d help if you had someone you coud talk to.”

“I’m more upset with Dad than with you,” Jouta admits. “He’s never lied to me before. And yes, I consider this a lie. Lying by omission is still not telling the truth.”

“You can speak to him about it when you get home,” Jotaro says. “He had his reasons for making the decision that we made, and it’s best you hear that from him.”

Jouta shrugs. “Maybe later,” he says. “I just want to go home and nap.”

“That’s fair,” Giorno says. “You want to nap now? Gold Experience can carry you.”

“Honestly?” Jouta grins a little, despite himself. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

Chapter Text

Jouta wakes up in his bed. He has no idea how long he’s spent asleep, but he wakes up to several things by his bedside table. There’s a Tupperware with some pasta in it, and a post-it note on top which says “AUTHENTIC ITALIAN PASTA, WITH LOVE FROM GIO” and a silly scribbled heart on it. A fork and a napkin lie next to it, and it reminds Jouta of the lunches Noriaki used to pack for him, the cutesy notes in Japanese like a secret language that most of his classmates couldn’t read.

Thinking of Noriaki makes his heart pang, so he frowns and picks up the two other things by his bedside table. Envelopes –  one with Noriaki’s handwriting on it, and one with what he knows is Jotaro’s handwriting, mostly from the occassional postcards and Christmas gifts –  both, with his name scrawled on the front.

For the first time in his entire life, he opens the one from Jotaro before he opens the one from Noriaki.

Jouta,

We have a new lead.

Josuke and I suggested the use of Joseph’s stand, Hermit Purple, to see if we could get any additional information. As you are possibly aware, your great-grandfather and his stand aren’t in prime fighting or investigative mode anymore, and we didn’t know if this would be a feasible option and didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up only to disappoint.

However, the old man’s strength of will and his dedication to Noriaki’s well-being triumphed, and with the help of the Speedwagon Foundation and Josuke’s friend Koichi, we have determined where the threat is coming from.

Whatever is causing this condition to manifest in Noriaki is in Morioh-cho. You’ve been there once when you were around eight or so, from what Nori has told me, and I’m not sure how much of it you remember. What you do not know is that Morioh-cho had an uptick in Stand Users and Stand Activity since around 1999, a lot of it malicious and dangerous. Noriaki and I managed to contain the situation with help of the stand-users there, or so we thought.

Josuke, Rohan, and I intend to set out tomorrow to investigate and neutralize the threat. Giorno and Mista will stay here, in case Noriaki needs medical assistance or if enemy Stand Users try an ambush. You are old enough and strong enough to make a decision on where you would like to be – neither Noriaki or I will try to stop you, or will influence your choice.

You can come with Josuke, Rohan and I –  it will certainly be dangerous. Morioh-cho had a serial killer with a stand living there for decades, and I would not be surprised if this incident is connected to that whole mess. You can also choose to stay back with Giorno and Mista, and to be with Noriaki. Your uncles Jean-Pierre and Muhammad will be flying in tomorrow or so for extra backup, as we are taking every precaution to ensure Noriaki’s safety.

Both Noriaki and I will support you in whatever choice you make. If you have any additional questions, you can always ask either of us.

-  Jotaro

He reads the letter thrice. He doesn’t really feel like eating the pasta anymore, appetite not quite there. Hands shaking a little, he opens Noriaki’s letter.

My sweet Pumpkin,

I know sorry is not enough, and I’m not sure what will be. I fully understand if nothing will be enough, if you can’t forgive me. But I still wanted to reach out to you, just in case.

We made a mistake – Jotaro and I, in hiding this from you. But I shan’t be a coward and pin this on Jotaro. I made a mistake. I did not do right by you, and nothing excuses that. Jotaro and I were not sure how to tell you, and instead of sitting with that and working a respectful solution, we decided not to tell you at all.

I know how much you value honesty, because I have always felt the same way in all my interpersonal relationships, and were our positions reversed, I would be feeling deeply betrayed and angry.

Writing why we made this choice through a letter feels like a cop-out, and I would like to have this conversation with you face to face, if you can stomach seeing me and having a conversation with me. I understand if you would rather not. I would like to explain, but you’re under no obligation to hear me out.

I love you deeply, and always will. You are the light of my life, and not a day goes by that I am not proud of you.

Hugs (if you want them),

Noriaki

He doesn’t realise he’s crumpled the paper. Nor does he realise he’s crying, until Charmy wrestles the letter out of his hands and he notices the ink that’s smudged, both on the paper and on his hands. Taking a shaky breath, he skims Jotaro’s letter again, and then makes a decision.

It’s 11PM, but Jotaro’s awake, like Jouta presumed he would be. He’s sitting in the kitchen talking to Giorno and Mista in fluid Italian, fast-paced and steady.

Jouta knows very basic Italian, mostly because Jotaro, back before splitting up with Noriaki, had spoken to him in the language as a child, and since then Holly's done her level best to keep his fluency strong. Noriaki, too, had learnt and had tried to keep Jouta in touch, but not being a native speaker, and not having been exposed to the language, Noriaki’s Italian was pretty basic as well. They can both probably clear their A2 exam, maybe even their B1 if they’re lucky, but not much beyond that.

Which just goes to say: Jouta can’t understand shit, listening to the three of them talk.

Not like it matters. Jotaro, Giorno, and Mista see him, and turn to look at him, conversation abruptly come to an end.

“Early night for Josuke and Rohan, they’re asleep,” Giorno says. “I think your dad’s still up, though. But he said if he fell asleep and you wanted to talk to him, you should wake him up.”

“In a bit,” Jouta says. “I wanted to talk to Jotaro first, actually.”

Jotaro turns a little, giving Jouta his full attention.

“I’m coming with you,” Jouta says. Not asking. Not requesting. Not even demanding. Just stating.

“Okay,” Jotaro says. “Pack light, and grab good winter jackets. Take a raincoat, too. Weather’s unpredictable in Morioh, this time of the year.”

Jouta nods.

“…. Anything else?” Jotaro asks.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Jouta asks.

“Depends on how quickly you can pack,” Jotaro says. “Morning, 9AM, is the best and earliest option, but afternoon works, too. We’re going via a Speedwagon jet plane, after all.”

“I’ll be ready at 9,” Jouta says. “But now I’m gonna go talk to Dad.”

He feels a bit better, having affirmed that he’s a part of this mission. Walking up to the living room, though, where Noriaki’s still on the couch, he feels strange. Unsure what to feel.

In almost every single way, Noriaki’s been the perfect parent he could’ve ever asked for. He would never have anticipated the very existence of his half-sister hidden away from him like this. Much like Noriaki’s letter itself stated, it went against everything they both believed in. Kakyoin family values, Noriaki would’ve said, with a cynical quirk of his lip like some inside joke Jouta wasn’t in on. He’d pieced it together, though. Noriaki’s parents hadn’t exactly been great, so this is a reclamation.

He knocks on the door before he steps in.

Noriaki is looking at him, wide-eyed, like he didn’t expect Jouta to come back. Like he thought Jouta would truly never forgive him, would never talk to him again, even in the throes of his concerning and frightening illness. Something about that expression shatters Jouta, and he runs over to the couch, gently easing his way into Noriaki’s arms, pressing his face against his dad’s chest.

“To be clear,” he says, once his breathing’s evened out again, blinking the tears away from his eyes and looking away when he sees how Noriaki’s eyes, too, are alarmingly liquid, “I don’t forgive you. Not yet. But…. I want to understand. I want to hear you out.”

“Of course,” Noriaki says. He sounds grateful, relieved, like he understands the magnitude of the olive branch extended to him, as well as the conditions it’s coming along with. “I’ll explain everything.”

He shifts a little, sitting up, as Jouta shifts as well, accommodating Noriaki by sitting by the couch. Jouta thinks of Jotaro’s letter and the inherent dangers of Morioh, thinks of Noriaki’s handwriting, shakier than he’s ever seen it, thinks of a 9AM flight, and despite the complicated turmoil of emotions running through his head, voices the one thing that he knows is true. “I love you, Dad.”

Something strange flickers in Noriaki’s expression, as if this comes as a great surprise to him.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Noriaki says. He smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but … knowing you, getting to see you grow up, seeing the man you’re becoming… these are the things I will never ever regret. I want you to know how much you mean to me. You are my whole world.”

“Then,” Jouta says, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “you better promise me one fucking thing. Get well soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Noriaki says. “And if you’re going with Jotaro to Morioh as I suspect you will be – you better come back safe to me. The dangers are real, and… the thought of you dying scares me more than the possibility of my own death, Jouta.”

Jouta scowls. “Good thing neither of us is going to die, then.”

Noriaki smiles, and it’s the first smile that doesn’t look melancholic or bitter, though there is something strangely nostalgic in it.

“What,” Jouta grunts.

Noriaki’s smile widens. “I’m ruining a perfectly good moment here, and this isn’t something you want to hear. But you sounded a lot like Jotaro, there.”

Jouta pitches his voice low, grumbles, “Yare yare,” just to hear Noriaki’s laugh. He’s not disappointed.

But then, they’re left in silence, and Jouta says, softly, “So. Jolyne?”

“Jolyne,” Noriaki repeats, with a little nod. And he begins to talk.

Chapter Text

“I’m not quite sure where to begin,” Noriaki says. “But I’ll start with when Jotaro and I separated, so you understand a little more about… Jotaro’s family, and mine, and the context for all this. He and I initially wanted to split custody equally, have you with me for two weeks and with Jotaro for the next two weeks and so on, alternating, for the forseeable future. We decided I’d be your guardian full-time and get sole custody for safety reasons. Jotaro told me that he’s already explained to you, how Joestars have a specific radar, right? Well, stand users will always attract other stand users, but Joestars specifically…”

Jouta nods. “He… yes, he told me. That it was like a radio signal.”

“You were really young, and we wanted to keep you out of danger as much as possible.” Noriaki sighs. “I did seem like the safer option, because I didn’t come from a bloodline that has as much of an aura. Additionally, Charmy, despite being quite tiny at the time, bore uncanny resemblances to Hierophant, and Jotaro and I both felt that, from a stand-usage point of view, it’d be good for Charmy to grow up with Hierophant. What’s difficult to explain, and what you should probably be hearing from Jotaro and not me, is… well.”

Noriaki exhales. “He never intended to start another family. He worries about both you and Jolyne very much, about the target on your backs solely because he’s your father. He distanced himself from us after he and I separated, which you already know. He, uh. When Jolyne’s mother told him that she was expecting and that she didn’t want to abort but she didn’t know if she could be a parent, the first thing he did was call me and ask me what I thought he should do. I told him he could always come back here to us, but we both knew that wasn’t going to be possible. Three Joestars under the same roof, and two of them children, when there are still some of Dio’s followers who’ve evaded capture? It was far too dicey.”

Jouta swallows. “How many… to what extent do we still need to worry about Dio?”

“Far less now, especially since Giorno’s on our side,” Noriaki says. “A lot of his devotees have been contained, but there’s still a few particularly dangerous people out there. But this was back then, before we knew about Giorno, and when Giorno himself was fairly young. Jotaro accepted that he’d have to take responsibility for Jolyne, and he raised – and continues to care for her – more or less entirely on his own. Your grandma helps, but I’ve never… I’ve never met Jolyne.”

Jouta nods, waiting for Noriaki to continue.

Noriaki sighs, unsteady. “You should know that Jotaro and I would’ve liked nothing more than to raise you both together. Both he and I were the only child of our parents growing up, and we both found it lonely. But… Jolyne wasn’t my kid in any capacity, and Jotaro and I had made peace with the knowledge that we couldn’t be together. She was born when you were six, and I don’t know if you remember, but even at that age, you weren’t exactly Jotaro’s biggest fan.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Jouta says, snorting in amusement despite himself. He remembers. He remembers ripping up a birthday card, remembers refusing to take the phone when Noriaki handed over the landline receiver, remembers that one time Jotaro had popped in briefly and Jouta had bitten him hard, like some kind of rabid animal. It’s laughable to think of now. Sure, he’s still not Jotaro’s biggest fan, but he’s mature enough to recognise that they have common enough goals that they can coexist.

And stranger still: mature enough to recognise that, as shitty as Jotaro has been in the past at showing it in a way that Jouta could accept, Jotaro does love him.

“We’d decided that Jotaro should tell you about Jolyne,” Noriaki continues. “But that was near impossible, because you refused to talk to him, and also because he was hesitant to bring up the topic. Jotaro worried that you’d think he abandoned you and me to start a shiny new family, and I understand that fear. You were very young, and Jotaro didn’t keep in touch with us consistently, for safety reasons, but that was impossible to explain to a seven year old without frightening you. Jotaro and I jump at shadows, we are overly cautious and – dare I say, paranoid – and we didn’t want your childhood to be haunted by our ghosts, so telling you outright why Jotaro maintained his distance would not have worked. But we should’ve done something, somehow. I think this is where I failed you. You grew up shutting Jotaro out, and neither Jotaro nor I were able to get you to put that wall down once it was up.”

Jouta nods. He thinks about all his complaints with Jotaro, how justified he’d felt they were, how he’d stopped speaking about it when he was around nine or ten, because he could tell that he was only distressing Noriaki, and that they’d never be able to come to any kind of agreement.

“To be clear, this is not me blaming you or saying you deserved for us to keep it a secret,” Noriaki says. “I know this was a major oversight, but I want you to understand. The more time that passed, the harder it felt for either me or Jotaro to sit you down and say, listen, you have a sister. And I never thought I was qualified to do it, because I knew nothing about Jolyne other than her age, her name, and that she existed. I’ve not even seen a picture of her. I kept myself out of her life, because like I said, what was my relationship to her? Negligible. I was her dad’s ex. How could I introduce you to a sister you had who I knew nothing about? That’s part of how I justified it to myself. I know that wasn’t right.”

Jouta nods, listening. He’s surprised by how his anger and hurt are dimming into something else, something softer. He’s still upset. But he’s frustrated, too, at the circumstances his parents have had to weather. The choices they made were the wrong chocies, and he’s annoyed, but he’s cognisant of the fact that they were under tremendous stress. It’s a weird, confused feeling, and Jouta shoves it down so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

“Additionally, there was an incident that happened with Holly around the time you were almost eleven,” Noriaki says. “An enemy stand user managed to overpower her temporarily and hold her hostage, intending to use her as bait to get to Jotaro. Everything was alright in the end – Holly’s stand isn’t the strongest in terms of brute force, but she was strategic enough to outsmart her opponent, and while Jotaro got slightly injured in his rescue mission, nobody was hurt too badly. Still, it scared us both a lot. We were deeply afraid. You and Jolyne were very young –  you were still learning how to use Charmy Green in combat, and Jolyne was still in daycare, she hadn’t even begun kindergarten yet. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for an enemy to use you both against each other, to kidnap one of you and find some way of hurting the other, if both of you knew each other and if that could be manipulated. Jolyne was too young, and you were old enough to understand safety as a concept, but your stand wouldn’t have been enough to protect you.”

Jouta takes a shaky breath. He reaches for Noriaki’s hands, which are trembling, and holds them in his. “I think I understand.”

“It’s hard for me because – ” Noriaki exhales, closes his eyes like he’s trying to banish the thought from his mind, before he opens his eyes again. “No, never mind. I shouldn’t be making this all about me.”

“Tell me, Dad,” Jouta says. “I want to know.”

“When I was sixteen,” Noriaki begins. “You know how Dio was able to control my thoughts and actions, right?”

Jouta’s grasp on his dad’s hands tightens. “You don’t have to share if it’ll cause you distress. I’m sorry if I pushed.”

Noriaki shakes his head, but he’s not looking at Jouta, eyes staring into the distance. “My cousin Ryoko was there when I first met Dio. She was so much younger than me – a whole ten years younger than I was. We were walking around Cairo alone at night, which… Why did our parents let us do that? I don’t know, honestly. But that’s not relevant. I thought we’d be safe because I had Hierophant to protect us, but then we stumbled upon Dio, who could see Hierophant, and who I could tell instantly was predatory. It’s that feeling in your gut, when you meet someone you know is unsafe. He praised my stand and spoke to me sweetly and then he attacked me, and I tried to resist but I couldn’t get away from him. But I wasn’t trying to run away from him, because I was trying to distract him. What was important to me then, more than my own safety, was Ryoko’s safety. If I’d been alone, maybe I would’ve escaped. I don’t know, and we’ll never know, so there’s no point speculating. But even now, after all this time, I think about what I saved my cousin from. And I know I would do that, all over again, if I were in the same place and had to make the same choices.”

Noriaki sighs. He looks so much older than his years, in that moment. “As a parent, all I can do is try my best not to repeat the mistakes my parents made when raising me. I shouldn’t have been alone with my six-year-old cousin in Cairo at night. At the time when you were younger, I withheld information of Jolyne from you because my biggest fear was that history would repeat itself, that someone would go after her and would end up getting you, because I know you would be the kind of big brother who would put himself in harm’s way if it meant keeping your little sister safe.”

Noriaki’s unsaid just like I was is something Jouta is all too aware of. And usually he would protest, say that his dad’s projecting, but…

“Yeah,” Jouta agrees. “I wouldn’t hesitate. Especially because Jolyne doesn’t even have a stand of her own.”

“Ryoko didn’t, either,” Noriaki says. He blinks, and Jouta has to look away as a tear trickles down his dad’s cheek. “Fuck, sorry. Sorry, this is – you shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

Jouta takes his handkerchief out ot his pocket, hands it to Noriaki. “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore,” he says. “I turn eighteen in less than three months. It’s okay.”

Noriaki shrugs, and Jouta can tell he’s not convinced. But he doesn’t push it.

“So,” Noriaki says, once he’s composed himself. “I’d told Jotaro about this, about Ryoko and about myself, and yes, I might’ve influenced him to keep you and Jolyne apart because I did believe it was for the best, for you and for Jolyne, and for our family as a whole. If Jotaro protected Jolyne and I protected you  – Jotaro’s stand is far stronger than mine is, but it all balances out, since Jolyne doesn’t have a stand of her own, but you do – I thought if we kept our family divided, we’d be safer. But I suppose that’s redundant now. Jolyne may be in danger one way or the other, no matter what Jotaro and I do, because that’s the reality of being a Joestar, and you’re almost eighteen like you just said – beyond a point, I can’t give you orders or instructions, it isn’t right of me to control you.”

“So I can meet her if I want?” Jouta asks, quietly. “Jolyne, I mean?”

“You’d have to speak to Jotaro to coordinate, but I don’t see why not,” Noriaki says.

Something about that response doesn’t sit right with Jouta. “You don’t want to meet her?”

“Who am I to her?” Noriaki asks. He frowns, clearly miserable.

“You’re something to Jotaro,” Jouta says. “And don’t say ‘ex’ – you’d be with him again if you could, wouldn’t you?”

“If things were different, we’d never have broken up,” Noriaki agrees, quietly. He presses Jouta’s handkerchief against his face again, takes a deep breath. “But that doesn’t change what things are like, now.”

“What’s stopping you from being with Jotaro again?” Jouta asks. “I’m not a child anymore, and Jolyne is older too. We’re not as small as we were earlier, and while we’ll still be in danger, thanks to our legacy I understand that we’ll be in danger no matter what, at any stage in our lives, right? So why not under one roof? Why not teach her how to protect herself from malicious stand users? Why not give Jotaro a chance to be a proper dad to me, and give Jolyne more than one parent, if she wants that?”

“Would you want that?” Noriaki asks. “You’ve been so vehemently against interacting with Jotaro in any capacity.”

“Things are different, now,” Jouta points out. “This house is full of my family, even though I hadn’t met Josuke before this. Things won’t go back to being the way they were before. I know about Jolyne, and I want Jolyne to know about me.”

“She might not want us to be a nuclear family unit,” Noriaki points out. “Or Jotaro might not want it.”

“Do you want it?” Jouta asks.

Noriaki’s silent.

“Do you want to meet Jolyne?” Jouta asks, softer. Gentler. Cautious.

“If – if Jotaro thinks that’s a good idea,” Noriaki finally concedes. “Then. Yes. Yes, I would like that very much.”

They don’t say much more beyond that. Everything remains deeply uncertain, Noriaki’s illness the elephant in the room. Eventually, Jouta tells Noriaki he’s going upstairs to pack for Morioh. He goes upstairs and eats the pasta Gio made for him, after which he manages to finish packing in a mere fifteen minutes with Charmy’s help.

He comes back down, Charmy bringing a mattress that he lays on the floor by the couch, positioning it so he doesn’t get in Noriaki’s way, settling an alarm clock on the coffee table so he doesn’t oversleep and miss the plane, or worse: be shaken awake in the morning by Jotaro.

“I’m sleeping here tonight,” he says. “We’ll be setting out for Morioh tomorrow morning, and I want my last night before that to be here, with you.”

Noriaki smiles, but his eyes are welling up again. “Don’t say it like that, sweetheart. You’re coming back home to me. It’s not going to be your last night.”

“No,” Jouta says. “But you and I both know that everything is going to change from hereon, and there’s no avoiding that.”

Noriaki presses a hand to Jouta’s cheek. It’s fever-warm. He falls asleep with a hand in Jouta’s hair, and Jouta falls asleep curled up on himself, almost in fetal position.

When Jouta’s alarm goes off, early enough that he can get ready before the plane arrives for them, he’s surprised to find Jotaro’s coat has been carefully draped over him while he was asleep, like a makeshift blanket.