Things hadn’t changed when Kakyoin died.
Jotaro & Joseph took Mrs. Holly back to America as soon as you landed in Japan. It took a full hour for Joseph to even think about letting you go your separate ways, but you had managed to pry his robotic hands off of you long enough to actually hug them goodbye.
& now you were here. In your empty house, in silence.
Your dark wood dresser held dead flowers that looked over a silver picture frame of you & your sweet cherry red head. Kakyoins sweet lips pushing against the side of your face while you playfully tried to push him away, laughing all the while. You hadn’t laughed recently. Honestly; you didn’t want to.
Clouded gray skies made the inside of your bedroom have an aura of rawness. It almost felt as like the sky was paused in time with you.
You sat on your bed, looking into the mirror in front of you. Your hair in its natural state, no makeup, no daily clothes; just you in a t shirt and sweats.
The night terrors were horrendous. The agony of the images in Egypt would replay like a bad cassette tape you couldn’t shut off. Your therapist would talk to you about them, but you couldn’t risk telling her every little detail. Especially the fact that you see what you tell yourself is the ghost of Kakyoin.
In the corner of rooms, in the shadows, in the hallways, he’s there. You would feel his arm around you at night, fresh awake from a night terror, only to look over to find the right side of the bed empty. It fucking hurts to see. It all fucking hurts to see.
The knocks from your front door broke you out of your mental prison. Your gentle footsteps padded down your steps and around the corner to the front door, a hulking figure on the other side.
Your instincts kicked in, the hair standing on the back of your neck.
“Queen of Swords.” you whispered out, a black linen wearing figure appeared behind you, swords in both of its hands.
You gripped the door handle tightly, willing Queen of Swords to be ready at a moments attack. You swung the door open with force, only to show the hulking form of Jotaro Kujo, a face a stoney as it was the day you met him.
You looked to your side to see Queen of Swords poised and ready to strike, embarrassment sweeping across your face.
You huffed to yourself as you willed your stand away. “Force of habit.” Actually it was trauma but you’d unpack that when you were ready.
You led Jotaro through the hallway down to your sitting room, dimly lit from the drawn curtains. A grey sectional lining the back of the room & a flatscreen across from it, the room wasn’t much; but atleast you weren’t contained to your bedroom.
You motioned for Jotaro to sit at the end of the sectional, you taking the corner spot.
“Y’know, you’re going to have to leave eventually.”
You cracked a smile. Yeah, you knew that. “What’s out there for me?”
Jotaro tilted his head to peak out the window. “Sunshine, rain, shitty 24/7 diners,” his eyes laid back to you, “there’s a lot more out there than you think-“
“But not him.” you whispered.
Jotaro went quiet, his usual grimace gracing his stone features. “He’s gone, Y/N. Nothing can change that.”
You threw your head back in a humorless cackle. “You’d be surprised Jojo,” you croaked out, “dead people still talk.”
A shadow moved behind Jotaro around the corner catching your eye. You could almost swear you saw the hint of green and red in your tall framed windows. You could almost feel yourself launch over Jotaro to chase after the reflection when Jotaro caught you by the waist, throwing you back down to the couch in a swift motion. “Y/N what the fucks gotten into you?!”
You snapped out of it, seeing Jotaro above you looking bewildered to your impulsiveness. Heart beating rapidly, your chest heaved up and down as you got your bearings. Your neck craned to the hallway, only to see the vague emptiness of the corridor.
The same as it’s always been.
