Joтaĸaĸ Oneѕнoтѕ

The Ghost of Noriaki Kakyoin

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It was the year of 1999 in Morioh, Japan. The twenty-eight year old marine biologist, Jotaro Kujo, had helped defeat Angelo Katagiri with the help of his much younger uncle, Josuke Higashikata. That was a few hours ago, but the rain still heavily poured down from the sky and coated everything in a layer of water. Jotaro had left just after Angelo's defeat, leaving his uncle to tend to Tomoko.

Jotaro lay awake in his bed in the Morioh Grand Hotel, only wearing a pair of shorts and exposing the rest of his muscular body. His body was uncovered, as he was laying in top of the covers rather than underneath them. He groaned and ran a hand through his midnight black hair; it would be another sleepless night for him. Angelo had mentioned DIO, and unfortunately for Jotaro, it triggered his PTSD everytime that name was even mentioned around him.

Even though he was shivering his teeth were clattering, Jotaro didn't cover himself up. He didn't feel like moving. All he could do was shiver himself to sleep, however long that would take.

Jotaro never cried---it was pointless, really, to waste time crying about something that happened a decade ago. He never let himself break down anymore, and the last time he remembered doing so was when he saw his mother for the first time after killing DIO. A damp ring of tears had been formed in his tank top, and he hadn't bothered to stop, even though his grandparents and mother had been watching him with sympathetic eyes.

Have I already fallen asleep?

Sometimes, Jotaro couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not; this was one of those times. His dreams---when he did dream, that is---were always about his dead friends and the tyrants that had hurt and killed them. They were usually graphic and gore-filled, and never gave him a break; not once. He would wake up drenched in sweat and tears, his entire body trembling from exhaustion and frightendness, and his face, sticky with dried, salty tears. The only time he cried nowadays was due to those horrific nightmares.

He sighed shakily, deciding to finally to get under the covers in an attempt to get warmer. But, to his surprise, he couldn't move; not an inch. All he could do was blink and breathe, and anything more than that he was incapable of.

Creeeeaaak.

The door to Jotaro's bathroom slowly started to push open. He could hardly see through the shut blinds and hanging curtains, but the door did, in fact, move from it's almost shut position. The silence was eerie and uncomfortable, and the simple fact that he was immobilized made the situation far more horrific. Not even the rain could be heard through the thick silence.

Then Jotaro saw it:

A tall figure, standing next to the entrance of his room. The shadows covered it's body, but the dim light briefly outlined it's features.

Dark green clothing. Golden buttons. Silky read hair. Cherry earrings. Eternally black eyes with the smallest white pupils, red lines running down the eyelids.

Noriaki Kakyoin.

The figure approached Jotaro, each small step a sickening crunch.

"Jotaro . . ." It's voice, deep and echoing, rung loudly in his ears. He wanted to submerge himself in the ocean so he wouldn't have to hear that clattering, chilly voice ever again.

"What's wrong? Is something scaring you? Don't worry, I'm coming to help you, just stay right there and don't move a muscle."

It stopped at the side of Jotaro's bed, standing menacingly above him. Jotaro stared wide-eyed at the figure, trying with his enitre body force to move or scream, but couldn't.

"Tsk, tsk. Did you seriously think that I was really wanting to help you soothe your fear? Stupid JoJo. You really are just a good-for-nothing lump of flesh, aren't you? You couldn't even save me from DIO when I needed you the most. I thought you loved me. Isn't that what you said a decade ago, when we were alone in the desert, and everyone else was asleep?"

Jotaro recalled what he said so long ago in his head.

"I love you, Noriaki Kakyoin. Do you accept my confession?"

Kakyoin took a moment to process what the other Japanese teenager had said. He breathed in deeply, exhaling shakily. This is a dream, right? He had thought to himself, gathering his thoughts and trying to sort them all into words. There was no way in hell that Jotaro could love him! He must have been hallucinating. Maybe it was just the heat and lack of water that had gotten to him. Even if it was only his imagination, he wanted to be with this man with all his heart.

"I do, Jotaro Kujo."

But, fortunately for him, it wasn't a dream. How suddenly Jotaro pulled him into a kiss, taking him by the waist, was all too physical and pure for Kakyoin not to believe it was only a faker created by his mind. Jotaro's lips against Kakyoin's, the thick taste of cigarette smoke that coated those rough lips, was too real to be a false sensation.

They kissed, talked, and stared at the stars until they fell asleep a few hours later, their only distractions being one another.

The memory faded away, and Jotaro was thrown back into reality to witness this living nightmare.

"Answer me, Jotaro! You love me, don't you?!"

Kakyoin floated intimidatingly above Jotaro, his back facing the ceiling, red hair flowing down his face and brushing against Jotaro's face, tickling him. His black eyes stared directly into Jotaro's turquoise ones. It felt as if his soul was being drained from his body and slowly deteriorating into nothingness. Kakyoin's arms fell limply from his sides, skin pale as snow, hands roughly gripping both sides of Jotaro's head. It was an unpleasant feeling to say the least.

"Say you love me, just one more time! Please! I only wish to feel your love, your desire of wanting me! I just want you to need me, to feel this way towards me again! Just say it, Jotaro! SAY IT! SAY YOU LOVE ME MORE THAN ANYTHING, AND EVERYTHING WILL GO BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS BEFORE!"

"I . . ." Jotaro closed his eyes, finally able to speak. "I can't say "I love you" to someone that is no longer alive, even if it was for you, Kakyoin."

Jotaro opened his eyes.

Kakyoin was gone, and it was morning, golden light illuminating the room. Jotaro's alarm was beeping from next to him on the nightstand, but he didn't bother to silence it. His face was drenched with tears, and the only reason why his body wasn't sweaty was because he was the temperature of a freezer. He had fallen asleep before he could do anything to make himself more comfortable.

Jotaro sighed deeply in relief, glad the nightmare was over. It wasn't often that he had dreams quite so tangible to the point it felt as if he were actually in them.

He got ready for the day, but thoughts of his former boyfriend still lingered warmly in his mind.

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