They'd all agreed to meet at Tonio's for dinner on Sunday. Jotaro leans against the side of the building, the burgundy brick catching on his coat's sleeve every time he lowers his arm.
He turned up early for a chance to fit in a cigarette. The sight of the ash urn outside the door had caught his eye the first time they'd eaten there, and every time afterwards. Jotaro isn't nervous about being around Jean, but the smoke calms something within him anyways. He blames it on the fact that tomorrow begins the ever dreaded midterms week. He knows he'll do fine on the tests, but the cramming will always manage to get to him.
Kakyoin and Jean spot him just as he turns the corner to toss his cigarette. For a reason he can't explain, he attempts to make it look as casual as possible, despite the fact the other two likely don't care at all.
As he thought, neither mentions it. Kakyoin touches his arm, and Jean offers a friendly greeting. They had been together for brief periods of time, but never properly hung out. It's a little strange to think that he hardly knows his boyfriend's — the word still makes his heart act funny — best friend, beyond what Kakyoin has mentioned in passing.
Once they get comfortable in a booth, Jean is talking his ear off. Jotaro hadn't expected to be one of those people, especially not when someone as quiet as Kakyoin thinks so highly of his company, but he grins and bears it. Jotaro dabbles in sports, but Jean knows enough that he feels outdone in the first ten minutes after admitting that he likes baseball. Tonio comes and goes, the conversation coming to a stop, before Jean picks it up again with a new topic.
"Do you like history?" He asks. Kakyoin gives Jotaro a look that says to just go with it.
"I like medieval stuff," Jotaro says. It's not untrue. He hadn't paid much attention in history class, but something about the period drew him in and away from his beloved two p.m. nap.
"Hell yeah. I'm studyin' medieval stuff," Jean says, with a smile and a playful, mocking tone. "Criminal justice is my major, though."
"Marine biology," Jotaro says. Jean nods.
"That's fish and stuff, right?"
Jotaro half expected that question. "It's a lot of things. But yeah, fish and stuff."
Kakyoin stays mostly silent while they talk, one hand resting on the table and the other holding Jotaro's between them on the seat. It has a similar stress relieving quality as his smokes, although it makes it tricky to eat with only one hand. Kakyoin finally pipes in when Jean takes his first bite, laughing at his reaction.
Comparably dull conversations drift in and out now that everyone is preoccupied. Jean bitches about his coming exams, and Jotaro bitches about the cold weather in return. Kakyoin agrees with both of them.
When Kakyoin excuses himself to the restroom, Jean takes the opportunity to talk to Jotaro alone.
"I'm sorry about how I acted that first time we met," he says.
Jotaro shrugs. "I get it."
"It was careless," Jean continues, passive aggressively. "But I know you didn't mean anything by it... and Nori really likes you, so I might as well suck it up, y'know?"
"Yeah."
"It's kinda cute, how he talks about you," he says. Jotaro begins to get the impression that Jean likes to gossip. "You sound like a nice guy."
"That's subjective," Jotaro says, and Jean laughs.
-
The pack of cigarettes fall out of his jacket pocket as he shrugs it off. Jotaro is glad he waited until he was in his own room. He stares long and hard at the familiar red and white packaging. Then, he takes a deep breath, and with difficulty, makes a decision.
Jotaro has not put much thought into why he smokes, and even less thought into whether he would ever quit or not. Carelessness is what brought him back to it, recently. Carelessness is the thing that let him pick it up again and hopelessness let him keep at it. As he looks around his room for somewhere to stash the small packet, he realizes that if he hides them, if he allows them to lay around where he knows they are, he will only dig them out again.
One option is to throw them away. Bury them under trash, so Holly won't see them and question him. Another is to tell her, and have her dispose of them. The look that would be on her face isn't worth it.
The third, and one he chooses, is to throw them away somewhere else. Jotaro wants the time to think and the exercise, so he opts for the metro station. More people have thrown away worse things than a couple smokes there.
It's becoming late. Both the sun and Holly had turned in long ago. The air grows colder the closer it comes to winter break, making it unpleasant and difficult to smoke anyways.
He's quit cold turkey once before, and he knows it will never work, even with the progress he's made in his life since then. A year ago, admitting that he is no stronger than anyone else is would have made Jotaro feel weak — now, he acknowledges it's only a fact. He pats his pocket and feels his wallet. If he's going to be in the station, he might as well head into town and get... well, something. He's vaguely aware of things that help with nicotine withdrawal, but he doesn't know what they are by name.
Dumping the cigarettes into the trashcan relieves a weight Jotaro had not realized was on his shoulders. He puts his hands in his pockets and waits for the next train into town. An odd time on a Sunday night before midterm week begins, he doesn't see many people his age waiting around. The crowd that joins him on the train consists of the last ditch Christmas buyer types and night shift workers.
Jotaro finds an odd charm in the metro. Sure, it's rather dingy at times. The older trains, adorned with stained carpet and untrustworthy cloth seats, are things he's had to adapt to. The metro is somewhat familiar, though. Even if he has grown less homesick for Japan, the smooth rocking of the trains is soothing to his nerves.
He decides to try the tobacco shop first. Selling what he's looking for would be counterproductive of one, but it seems like best start. The cashier gives him an unenthusiastic greeting. They're different from the last time Jotaro was there, so he doesn't bother to say anything beyond hello.
Being in the store after deciding he's done with cigarettes is unpleasant, to say the least. The wall of cigarette packs behind the counter makes his palms itch, the cases of beer in the middle of the small shop force a bad taste into his mouth. He wants to buy a six pack and go home, to replace one bad habit with another. Instead, Jotaro shoves his hands back in his pockets and attempts to clear his mind.
Nodding to the cashier, he leaves feeling disappointed. He could have asked them for advice, but Jotaro is wasting time to put off the migraine that comes with studying for English.
He's bumped into while distracted. When he looks up to apologize, he sees a familiar face.
"Jotaro!" Jean says. "You smoke?"
It's casual and friendly. "Not anymore," he says.
Jean raises an eyebrow. "So you're buying smokes for someone else?"
"What? No." He almost forgets where they're standing, realizing how suspicious that sounds. "I'm, uh... I'm quitting."
"At the smoke shop?" He teases.
"I just tossed my last pack," Jotaro says. He struggles to think of what words he wants to use. "I thought maybe they'd have that withdrawal stuff, the—"
"The nicotine patches and all?" Jean asks helpfully.
"Yeah."
"I did the same thing when I quit," Jean explains. Jotaro must look surprised, because he offers him a smile. "You know where the pharmacy is?"
"No," Jotaro admits.
"I was getting Nori some more paint," he says. "But he won't care if I take a little longer. C'mon."
Jotaro isn't sure what inspires him to follow Jean. Whether it's the assertive way he says it or the fact that Jotaro is ready to be at home, he doesn't know.
Jean offers small talk along the way, mostly advice on quitting that Jotaro is thankful for. The five years between them seem to expand to something more substantial, and Jotaro begins to understand what the man's appeal is. He's like a father, jumping at the opportunity to help Jotaro out for no reason other than helping him. Though Jotaro could easily doubt that last part, Jean has proven to be a decent guy.
In truth, it makes him feel a tad special. Jean is fine with wasting time walking him to the pharmacy, and while Jotaro doesn't exactly need that, it's so much easier to find the right thing and go. Besides, he's been trying to appreciate people's help lately.
Self improvement, or something like that.
With Jean's experience and his worries about Holly finding anything too large or conspicuous, Jotaro decides to first give the gum a shot.
Jean must sense his nerves as they walk back towards the metro station, for he strikes up another conversation. "What's making you quit?" He asks.
Jotaro frowns. He isn't sure of the answer to that, and is even less keen on figuring it out. "I need to," he says simply.
"You're gonna need a better reason than that," Jean suggests. His tone is kind, as if he made the same mistake as Jotaro did. "In a week you will, at least."
"Encouraging."
Jean chuckles. "It's gonna be hard. Trust me."
"I know," Jotaro says.
Jean is quiet for a moment, before he says, "If you want help, support or anything... you let me know."
Jotaro can feel his eyes on him, but he doesn't turn to look at him. The simple offer means a lot more to him than he's willing to admit. "Thanks."