mylegacy | ic inbox ( ruby city )

I believe you! I've just never heard anyone so angry about the sun.

I think I'm perfectly justified in being angry if it's screwing with me. Again.

Are you going to punch the sun with Hamon, Kakyoin.

No, that's absolutely ridiculous.

I can't reach that far. Hierophant has a better chance of that.

I was teasing you. Obviously Hierophant would punch the sun.

[when caesar zeppeli thinks you are being too serious....]

My Hierophant doesn't punch things, that's Star Platinum's job.

[...is he being so serious he's looped into sarcasm]

[probably]

We'd just shoot it.

You need to calm down.

I am the picture of calm. I don't just go flying off the handle at the drop of a hat.

[Just. Such a look.]

[the world's most innocent smile]

[He rolls his eyes.]

What do you want, Kakyoin?

Okay, okay. Like I said, I have something for you. And I want you to have it, but at the same time I'm not sure if it's overstepping some line I'm not completely aware of. So what I'm getting that is I'm going to give you something, and if you want to punch me for getting involved in something that's none of my business, I won't stop you.

...If you do, just give me a chance to take my glasses off first.

. . . That's a very ominous lead-up.

[sighs.....]

All right. Show me.

[Without hesitating much more than that, he took an envelope out of his pocket and held it out. Inside was a photograph of a teenage Joseph Joestar, as much a grinning smartass as ever.]

[...Kakyoin calmly took off his glasses, just in case.]

[That.]

[That feels like being punched right in the face. Yes it does. Like dying all over again. Like when Jotaro held out the stupid belt and expected him to understand it. Kakyoin is expecting him to understand this, and he doesn't. He doesn't understand this at all.]

[He hates that. And he hates Joseph. And he hates Kakyoin a lot right now, in large part because of how pathetically grateful he feels. Fuck that.]

[Every muscle in his body is tense, like he's ready to fight. Slowly, he lifts his eyes and stares at Kakyoin evenly.]

...When I first got here, I was on my own. I know I've said that before.

[He knew it wouldn't make sense on its own, and knew he was taking a risk. Caesar could easily hate him for this, and he might even be right to. But Kakyoin didn't back down, arms held at his sides and a steady look on his face.]

But not long after that, I got back a photograph all of us took together. I didn't really tell anyone, but I was clinging to that thing like it was my last goddamn lifeline to when we were all alive and together. ...I mean, I guess it was. So I just...thought it would be worth having, until he got here.

Don't mistake this for me feeling sorry for you. You're enough like me that I know you would beat the living hell out of anyone that did that, and I don't really care to take pity on people like I'm better than them or something stupid like that.

...You can still punch me for it if you want to. If I crossed some kind of line here. I won't complain, and I won't tell anyone what happened if they ask. I'll take what I deserve and keep my damn mouth shut from now on.

No. No, just - just shut up for a minute. You talk a lot.

[He pinches the bridge of his nose; in the back of his head there's a pounding headache growing. His fingers are freezing, like he's bleeding to death all over again. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and think, just think.]

[Hitting Kakyoin is going to do nothing at all. Just make him alone. And maybe he wants to be and maybe he doesn't, but it wasn't . . . supposed to be a bad thing. It wasn't supposed to be. And hurting him seems wrong, not because he's weak or any nonsense like that but because it would be too much like self-pity.]

[What the hell is he going to do with this thing, though? Keep it? Put it somewhere he can see it? Every day he'll see it and hate Joseph, hate himself for being dead, hate everyone here for not being the right person. So what the hell is the point?]

[He lets out a sharp breath, crosses his arms, opens his eyes. Now he just looks tired.]

I really hate all of you, you know.

...

[Kakyoin didn't answer, of course. He just stayed exactly where he was, listening in silence.]

Because you're not him.

[Obviously. He looks at the photo again, his mouth turned down at the corners, sour.]

What do you think this is going to do? Give me hope? Hope that he'll come here and be trapped here instead of living with his family, where he's supposed to be? Hope that he's clinging to the memories of his friend from fifty years ago who got himself killed? I don't want that. I want him to live the life I was too fucking stupid to. I won't be any less angry if he shows up.

[An obvious lie. But he would very much like it to be true.]

...

[Of course it was a lie. At this point, Kakyoin felt like he was just listening to himself outright. Did he want Jotaro and the others to have been able to just move on with their lives? Obviously. If they hadn't--if even one of them had stayed hung up on the memory of a child who died in Cairo (and he knew damn well who would be hung up on it) then what would have been the point?]

[But he was selfish, and he'd desperately wanted at least one person there with him. Because things were easier with him nearby. Kakyoin had always seen himself and Hierophant as two halves of one whole. He'd never known there was a third piece to fit in the empty and lonely space that had always eaten him alive, and having been without that piece was torture.]

[So he expected it was possible that he understood Caesar's problem. More than he wanted to let on.]

...You think he'd forget? [Kakyoin's voice was strained, but he kept his expression controlled and even for now.] Even if he keeps living like he should, with the rest of his family...he won't forget.

[He wasn't sure which Jojo he was talking about anymore. Wasn't even sure there was a difference, in this case.]

You're right. It's selfish and stupid to want anyone to show up here, but do you think he wouldn't want to see you again regardless of that? If this is the only chance we'll ever have to keep living, if we can't get the hell out of here, wouldn't the two of you both do anything for even just ten more minutes together?

I won't say 'don't lie to me', Caesar. But don't look at me and act like he'll just fucking forget, like we died for nothing and don't matter.

Edited 2016-01-14 06:55 (UTC)

He should forget.

[If Kakyoin's voice is strained, Caesar's is hoarse, a second from screaming or exhausted from screaming for hours. Sometimes it feels like there really isn't any difference - like when he's not dreaming of dying he's awake and he's dead, it's all one useless continuous loop, and who cares.]

He should. I'm not like you. I didn't save him. I was stupid. I almost won, and then I wasn't good enough, and then I died. That's it. I didn't discover anything important. I didn't save anyone. I provided a shortcut. That's all.

There's nothing about that that's worth remembering. So if he wants to sacrifice a life that means something for even ten minutes here, then he's a fucking idiot.

...He wouldn't give a damn if you were good enough, you idiot.

[His hands curled into fists, out of frustration rather than anger at Caesar or anything else.]

I didn't have to die to figure out what I did. I was stupid and I wanted revenge, so I ran straight into a fight I couldn't win alone. I didn't even come close, I 'wasn't good enough' from the start. I was never 'good enough', and I even lost most of the fights I got into. [He gestured to the scars on his face, twisted by a half-forming scowl of frustration.]

You think it matters? Like he'll just stop giving a damn about you because you think you didn't do enough? I wish it was that easy. But this isn't something measured on 'was I good enough' or 'was I useful to you' or 'did I help at all', it's...it's...

[He trailed off, pressing a hand to his face. Which of them was he even lecturing now?]

...fuck.

[He stares at Kakyoin. Level expression, steely eyes. The only tell is the way his jaw clicks with how tight it's clenched, the way his fists, perfect mirrors, tremble in frustration.]

[If he comes here, I'll kill him. If he comes here, I'll kill him. If he comes here, I'll kill him, and that will send him back. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see his stupid smug face. I'll kill him if he comes here.]

[Where are you, you bastard?]

[Where the hell is he? He's not - he's not petty enough to say it out loud, but he feels like it's bleeding from him all the same: why do you get to not be alone when I have to be?]

[Maybe in some universe he's a better person. But all he is here is a man who left his family behind and didn't even win.]

[Just.]

Fuck.

[And he turns and walks, shoes and all, knees-deep into the surf.]

...

[It would be so, so much easier if they just forgot. If they could just throw the memory over their shoulders and keep walking, discard the knowledge that Caesar Zeppeli and Noriaki Kakyoin had ever existed and forget. Joseph and Jotaro alike could just live the rest of their lives without the shadow of death filling the empty position at their sides.]

[But it wasn't that easy. It wasn't that fair. They had to suffer knowing something had been lost that could never be replaced. For the first time in months, Kakyoin wondered what the last thing he'd said to Jotaro in Cairo was, and he realized he still didn't know. He doubted Jotaro did, and he wouldn't ask--no, he probably wouldn't even talk to him at all about this.]

Caesar-

[His voice faltered and cracked; Kakyoin didn't know what he could even say. Because the more he watched and listened, seeing himself reflected in someone that lived and died fifty years beforehand...]

[...the more he understood how Giorno had thought things were so painfully obvious.]

[And then, everything made perfect sense.]

[This is the part where he says sorry, right? This is the part where he turns to Kakyoin and says yes, you were right, this will help. Even if he's not sure that's true. Even if he's not sure, that's what he should say. And sorry. He should say that too.]

Don't say my name like that.

[Like what? He has no idea. Like there's some level of understanding here; there is, but he doesn't want there to be. He doesn't want Kakyoin to feel like this. He wants him to be safe, inside and out, not ripped apart every day, so empty and ugly that he has to check and make sure he really is alive. He doesn't want that for anyone. He doesn't even want it for himself; for himself, he just doesn't care.]

[One helpless shrug later, and he turns to Kakyoin blankly. Waves the photograph and tucks it into his jacket pocket. His toes are freezing, his boots are ruined. So, fine.]

Don't worry. I'll keep it. You didn't waste your time.

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i'm sorry i could not help myself

oh my god

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