[Kakyoin shook his head as if that would clear out his nerves and hesitation. Slow, deep breaths--Polnareff had come to him asking for help with a perspective it was impossible for him to have. Falling apart would serve no purpose. Unease had already set his skin crawling with things he preferred not to think about, but not thinking about them didn't make them less of an ever-present fact.]
Don't leave, it's okay. But I...don't know if I can help, Jean.
[Noriaki Kakyoin and Bruno Buccellati were dead, and yet here they were just wanting to go home. What could anyone do about that--over a year in this city and Kakyoin still didn't have any answers.]
[In some ways, there was no helping at all. He knew that. It was what made the situation so maddening. It wasn't that the price was too high to pay, or the cure too difficult to find. He could conquer those things. But there was nothing to do, nothing at all, and so he was trapped. Helpless, and god, but did he ever hate that.]
Do you like it here?
[An off-tangent question, maybe, but not as much as Kakyoin might have thought.]
I do. Occasionally, yes, circumstances do try their best to make us all profoundly miserable in the worst ways. But it's because I came here that I was able to meet Giorno, Buccellati, Caesar, Fugo, or any of the other friends I've made in the time that I've been here.
[...]
...But it's not really home. It--it is, I mean...this place feels more like home to me than I think anywhere else really has before. But it's not where I should be. It's not Tokyo, it's not my parents' house.
I like this city, and I'm happy here. But every last one of us needs to be somewhere else if we want to keep living our lives. I want to go back to school and to university after that--I want to meet Jolyne someday, whatever that takes. I want to go to Morioh and Italy and...I can't do any of that if I'm stuck here.
[He says that, realizes how it sounds, and hastily adds:]
I do too, but-- Bruno doesn't. He thinks this is it, and he hates it, and I don't blame him. But I don't . . . I don't know how to say I'll find a way to fix it without sounding like I'm lying to him.
[Never mind all the time issues that he and Bruno have. That's a problem for another day.]
I stop at thinking that I can because if I start asking myself how, I feel like I'll want to start screaming and never stop. Like examining that too closely is just going to make me completely snap and give up.
When I first got here, I was pretty convinced this was it too. But it just didn't make sense, I mean look at me, I'm still breathing right now. Am I really just supposed to accept that someday I might just...
[But he had to accept it, didn't he? Any of them could just leave with no warning. And for some, that was a problem with much more finality than others. Kakyoin folded his arms, glancing away for just a second or two while he tried collecting himself again.]
...I understand Buccellati's perspective. I don't know with certainty that any of us can fix this, and I know what it feels like to think there's no point in anything if we can't.
['I won't ask him to love someone that probably doesn't have a future.' Hadn't Kakyoin said that himself once, maybe just a little over a year ago?]
...But that means that I really don't know how to help, either.
[He nodded. Took a long drag on his cigarette, trying like hell to focus. He'd been smoking less, thanks to Bruno's crisply expressed wishes. He didn't mind all that much, except it meant that he really had to make the most out of each cigarette. So: inhale, savor, exhale, a long slow process that gave him time to think.]
But that changed somewhere along the way, right? Thinking there's no point in doing anything. I mean, you and Jojo--
[He gestured vaguely, indicating their general relationship.]
You aren't just in it thinking it's all gonna end here. Are you?
I have to be realistic and accept the possibility that it could, Jean. Whether or not I leave this city and when is out of my control; it has been since the moment I got here, the same as anyone else.
But I... [Kakyoin trailed off, Hierophant winding through his fingers and around his hand in silent restlessness.] ...If this is my only chance, I don't want to spend it being afraid of the possibilities. I don't want to spend it afraid of anything.
I love Jotaro, and I care about every last one of you. Distancing myself because of how unsure I am of what comes next would only hurt both sides that much more, if the worst should eventually happen. Wouldn't it?
[He glanced towards Kakyoin for a few moments before looking away.]
But I think he doesn't, sometimes. [...] I know he doesn't sometimes. The day we got together he shot me down at first, because he thought it'd be kinder if we didn't start something.
Yeah, I did. And--maybe it's a little selfish, but I didn't want to just hide how I felt. Even if it was to protect him from getting hurt, that just didn't feel right.
[It is good. But it leaves him with the same problem, and one nobody knew how to solve. If there even was a solution. But there had to be, hadn't there? Kakyoin wasn't exactly the most happy-go-lucky guy, but if he could get to a point where he didn't carry equal amounts of guilt and grief about his death and his relationship with Jotaro, Bruno ought to be able to as well. Right?
Polnareff sighed, his eyes closing for a moment.]
I just . . . even if I do anything and everything to give him a bit of home, it's not what he wants. You know? He doesn't want a life here, he doesn't want a relationship that means something-- or he does, but not to build one here. And I don't know . . .
[He glanced over at Kakyoin.]
I mean, who the hell knows if any of us remember this at home? Who knows what's gonna happen? If we all go back safe and sound, if we find some way to keep you two alive-- then what? He'll go to 2001 and I'll go to 1988, and from my perspective he'll still be a kid. It's just--
[Christ. Now he was spiraling. Polnareff scowled and sucked harder on his cigarette.]
Forget it. I just want him to be happy, that's all.
[Kakyoin stepped a little closer, the hand that wasn't tangled in a glowing coil brought to rest lightly on Polnareff's arm.]
I know that you do, Jean. I wish I could tell you that it's going to be okay, or that there's sure to be some kind of solution where everyone's happy. But I don't know if there is, and if there is it's sure as hell not going to be an easy one.
...All I can tell you is that I'm here for you. All of us are.
[Would that assurance have come six months ago? He wonders. Kakyoin had always been his friend, but only recently had they gotten close enough that such assurances were so freely given. I'm here for you, and he knew those weren't just empty words.
He offered him a slight smile.]
Thanks.
[A beat, and then, far more cheerfully:]
Anyway, at least his birthday went well. I was a little worried about that one, but turns out getting your boyfriend his favorite record works no matter what.
[The idea of having friends had gotten less and less strange over time, but Polnareff was different. Not to say that they weren't friends by any means--it was simply that Polnareff had always been on something of a level entirely his own. There were his numerous friends, both in and out of the city. Then there was Caesar who was like his brother, Giorno who was in many ways a strangely distorted reflection of Kakyoin himself, and Jotaro who was both his closest friend and simultaneously something even more significant than that.]
[Somewhere in a nebulous, undefined space between the people who mattered most was Jean-Pierre Polnareff, who was the kind of carefree and reckless influence a person like Kakyoin needed. Someone who understood things that no one else possibly could, who was unfailingly kind and a steady presence on top of that. (...And occasionally an idiot, but no one was perfect.)]
[In hindsight, Kakyoin had no idea how any of them had gotten by in this city as long as they had without him.]
So what kind of music does Buccellati like? I've heard a little about Giorno's taste, but I don't think the subject's come up with anyone else.
Jazz. Miles Davis, specifically, which . . . [He wrinkled his nose. There's a lot implied in that expression.] I mean, he likes it, so. It was a good night.
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[Kakyoin shook his head as if that would clear out his nerves and hesitation. Slow, deep breaths--Polnareff had come to him asking for help with a perspective it was impossible for him to have. Falling apart would serve no purpose. Unease had already set his skin crawling with things he preferred not to think about, but not thinking about them didn't make them less of an ever-present fact.]
Don't leave, it's okay. But I...don't know if I can help, Jean.
[Noriaki Kakyoin and Bruno Buccellati were dead, and yet here they were just wanting to go home. What could anyone do about that--over a year in this city and Kakyoin still didn't have any answers.]
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Do you like it here?
[An off-tangent question, maybe, but not as much as Kakyoin might have thought.]
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[...]
...But it's not really home. It--it is, I mean...this place feels more like home to me than I think anywhere else really has before. But it's not where I should be. It's not Tokyo, it's not my parents' house.
I like this city, and I'm happy here. But every last one of us needs to be somewhere else if we want to keep living our lives. I want to go back to school and to university after that--I want to meet Jolyne someday, whatever that takes. I want to go to Morioh and Italy and...I can't do any of that if I'm stuck here.
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[He says that, realizes how it sounds, and hastily adds:]
I do too, but-- Bruno doesn't. He thinks this is it, and he hates it, and I don't blame him. But I don't . . . I don't know how to say I'll find a way to fix it without sounding like I'm lying to him.
[Never mind all the time issues that he and Bruno have. That's a problem for another day.]
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When I first got here, I was pretty convinced this was it too. But it just didn't make sense, I mean look at me, I'm still breathing right now. Am I really just supposed to accept that someday I might just...
[But he had to accept it, didn't he? Any of them could just leave with no warning. And for some, that was a problem with much more finality than others. Kakyoin folded his arms, glancing away for just a second or two while he tried collecting himself again.]
...I understand Buccellati's perspective. I don't know with certainty that any of us can fix this, and I know what it feels like to think there's no point in anything if we can't.
['I won't ask him to love someone that probably doesn't have a future.' Hadn't Kakyoin said that himself once, maybe just a little over a year ago?]
...But that means that I really don't know how to help, either.
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But that changed somewhere along the way, right? Thinking there's no point in doing anything. I mean, you and Jojo--
[He gestured vaguely, indicating their general relationship.]
You aren't just in it thinking it's all gonna end here. Are you?
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But I... [Kakyoin trailed off, Hierophant winding through his fingers and around his hand in silent restlessness.] ...If this is my only chance, I don't want to spend it being afraid of the possibilities. I don't want to spend it afraid of anything.
I love Jotaro, and I care about every last one of you. Distancing myself because of how unsure I am of what comes next would only hurt both sides that much more, if the worst should eventually happen. Wouldn't it?
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[He glanced towards Kakyoin for a few moments before looking away.]
But I think he doesn't, sometimes. [...] I know he doesn't sometimes. The day we got together he shot me down at first, because he thought it'd be kinder if we didn't start something.
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[He curled his fingers around Hierophant, the coil twisting around Kakyoin's hand as though it were a second hand holding on just as securely.]
...You know I wouldn't hurt him like that. Not if I could help it.
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[Inhale, savor, exhale.]
But you thought it was worth it, in the end.
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[He shoved his hands in his pockets.]
Bruno brought that up too, and I gotta say, I'm glad he started with us. Even if it hurts, even on nights like that, I'm still glad.
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Yeah...it's good that there's that much, at least.
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Polnareff sighed, his eyes closing for a moment.]
I just . . . even if I do anything and everything to give him a bit of home, it's not what he wants. You know? He doesn't want a life here, he doesn't want a relationship that means something-- or he does, but not to build one here. And I don't know . . .
[He glanced over at Kakyoin.]
I mean, who the hell knows if any of us remember this at home? Who knows what's gonna happen? If we all go back safe and sound, if we find some way to keep you two alive-- then what? He'll go to 2001 and I'll go to 1988, and from my perspective he'll still be a kid. It's just--
[Christ. Now he was spiraling. Polnareff scowled and sucked harder on his cigarette.]
Forget it. I just want him to be happy, that's all.
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I know that you do, Jean. I wish I could tell you that it's going to be okay, or that there's sure to be some kind of solution where everyone's happy. But I don't know if there is, and if there is it's sure as hell not going to be an easy one.
...All I can tell you is that I'm here for you. All of us are.
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[Would that assurance have come six months ago? He wonders. Kakyoin had always been his friend, but only recently had they gotten close enough that such assurances were so freely given. I'm here for you, and he knew those weren't just empty words.
He offered him a slight smile.]
Thanks.
[A beat, and then, far more cheerfully:]
Anyway, at least his birthday went well. I was a little worried about that one, but turns out getting your boyfriend his favorite record works no matter what.
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[The idea of having friends had gotten less and less strange over time, but Polnareff was different. Not to say that they weren't friends by any means--it was simply that Polnareff had always been on something of a level entirely his own. There were his numerous friends, both in and out of the city. Then there was Caesar who was like his brother, Giorno who was in many ways a strangely distorted reflection of Kakyoin himself, and Jotaro who was both his closest friend and simultaneously something even more significant than that.]
[Somewhere in a nebulous, undefined space between the people who mattered most was Jean-Pierre Polnareff, who was the kind of carefree and reckless influence a person like Kakyoin needed. Someone who understood things that no one else possibly could, who was unfailingly kind and a steady presence on top of that. (...And occasionally an idiot, but no one was perfect.)]
[In hindsight, Kakyoin had no idea how any of them had gotten by in this city as long as they had without him.]
So what kind of music does Buccellati like? I've heard a little about Giorno's taste, but I don't think the subject's come up with anyone else.
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[you two...]
So what do you like, then?
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Energetic stuff, you know? Anything with a good beat. The Stones, if you want a band, but I usually like whatever loud and playing on the radio.
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[He leaned over, elbowing him gently.]
You gotta come to Egress with me at least once. 'S the only time I'm ever gonna get to go dancing with you.
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As for music, I actually really like Sting. [said almost no one ever]
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