the relation of art and pain | jotakak

xv

Until this evening, Jotaro had managed to smoke only one cigarette each week. That is still more than zero, which in his mind makes it unforgivable. He had been doing well, on a solid three month streak, and then...

He takes another drag from his third cigarette of the day, watching his breath mingle with the smoke in the chilly air. He knows part of the reason he picked his pack back up is because school stresses him out. Jotaro loves to work — he finds it soothing, but only when he's alone. Having others watch him work causes him to fumble over his keyboard, a type of stage fright he's never been able to understand, and the lecture halls of most of his classes are always packed. He's quit smoking right after class, but he's begun craving it when he gets home more and more.

Another reason that is difficult to ignore is Kakyoin. Jotaro feels guilty blaming him in any capacity for something that is his own goddamned fault. For once, though, it's hard to twist the situation into one where Jotaro is completely to blame. Kakyoin stirred up feelings that he didn't know he had. Furthermore, he'd made Jotaro inadvertently aware that he has never resolved his problems from years ago.

Jotaro frowns, crossing his arms over his stomach. He feels childish and whiny. He's a grown ass man. He needs to pull himself together, yet such a feat sounds exhausting. He remembers his short lived, but heartfelt conversation with Kakyoin weeks ago, how light he felt the rest of the day afterward. He wants to have another, to dump all his issues out in the open and get them off his mind. He tried writing in a journal for a few months, but it never felt quite like having another human being hear him out.

The back door creaks and Jotaro instinctively drops his cigarette to the ground, pretending to shift on his feet as he snuffs it out with his boot. Holly doesn't notice it.

"What're you doing out here without a jacket?" She chides, though she herself isn't wearing one either. Jotaro had figured if he went to the backyard he would have some more peace, but it appears he was wrong.

"It's not that cold," he replies.

Holly gives him a look. "Fine, tough guy. Anyhow, I want to talk to you."

Jotaro raises an eyebrow. He can't deny the way his stomach tightens at that, since Holly rarely ever wants to talk about anything. She's always been happy to say okay and let Jotaro do his own thing. "Somethin' wrong?"

"No, no. I wanted to ask about Kakyoin," Holly says. She puts her hands in her pockets when she comes to stand beside him. She looks out over the yard for a moment, deciding her words. "You two seem close."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Are you two dating?"

It hits Jotaro like a ton of bricks, though he's more surprised than anything. "Uh—"

"It's alright if you are," she reassures. In truth, Jotaro didn't need to hear it. He knows she loves him more than anything else, and she doesn't really care what he does as long as he's happy.

He remembers Kakyoin's confirmation at the museum. He still can't bring himself to believe it, and something else nags at him, too. "I don't know," he says.

Holly smiles a little. "How could you not know?" She asks, amused.

Jotaro frowns. "I mean, we've gone out a couple times—"

"A couple times? And you never told me?" She asks, tone jokingly accusative. She seems happier now.

"Sorry," he mumbles. She looks at him expectantly, like an excited puppy, and he realizes she wants details. "I like him, but..." He trails off, chewing on his lip. He wants to confide in her. He wants to be able to tell her all the things he's never told her, but now does not seem like the right time. She's happy. He can't be so selfish that he would ruin that by bringing up the past.

But Holly hangs off his every word and it's too tiresome to hold it in.

"I don't know," he continues. "He's... Kakyoin is great. But I just... y'know."

Her mood turns serious. "You don't want to end up like we did," she finishes for him. When he nods, she sighs. "I figured this would come up someday. But you two are very different from your father and I."

"You won't even say his name."

Holly stops. "Jotaro—"

"I just wish you'd get over it," Jotaro says. She's quiet. The rustling of leaves seems to mimic her, because Jotaro can hear the way he swallows loud and clear. "'Cause if you don't, then I can't either."

Holly doesn't say anything for a long time. He steals a glance at her and guilt washes over him in an instant. He wants to apologize, but he can't say anything. He feels sadness and anger start to mix inside him, to the point where he considers pulling out another cigarette.

Finally, she says, "Sadao shouldn't matter to either of us anymore."

It doesn't put the blame on anyone. It's only the truth. Jotaro clenches his jaw and relaxes it.

"I started smoking because of him," he suddenly confesses. "And drinking. That's why I drank." He feels her hand on his back, rubbing circles into it. He stares intently at the ground. It's so much more painful to admit these things now. His breath comes sharp and ragged, the cold air stinging his throat. "I just want a dad."

It's the hardest thing he's ever had to admit in a long, long time.

Holly gives him a tight hug. She's so much shorter than him, especially now that she's losing height every year, but Jotaro feels protected in her embrace.

"I know, baby," she coos, voice muffled in his chest. Jotaro barely hears her, focusing all he has on not crying. Instead he hugs her tighter, nuzzling his cheek into her hair. Shakes pass through his shoulders and his breathing grows irregular, but Holly never lets go.