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Jolyne was anxious. Again.
It seemed like, perhaps, anything involving her father was going to make her anxious – like despite all they’d been through recently, she was always going to default to assuming he would bail on her the moment the opportunity presented itself. Surely, there were countless opportunities for her to fuck up today.
“Hermés? Babe? Help me pick out an outfit?”
Hermés poked her head out of the bathroom, where she was putting the finishing touches on her eyeliner. “You’re still getting dressed? We’re gonna be late!”
“I knoooow! But I can’t decide! I don’t wanna look stupid when I meet my weird dad’s mystery boyfriend!”
Hermés fixed her with a serious stare. “Remember that time your dad showed up to prison in gold snakeskin pants with built-in boots? There’s nothing in your wardrobe as stupid as that, babe. You’ll be fine.”
Jolyne rolled her eyes. “But like, all my shirts are crop tops! I don’t want this guy to think I look trashy!”
“Once again, Jojo, half the shit I have seen your middle-aged father wear is infinitely sluttier than any of your outfits. That man wears the tightest shirts I’ve ever seen. Just put something on, ok, babe? I’d rather be on time with your trashy ass than late.”
Jolyne giggled a little, finally deciding on one of her longer crop tops and what she hoped were appropriately skinny jeans. She threw on her makeup in record time, spritzed her meticulous hairdo with hairspray, and managed to roll out the door with Hermés only 5 minutes later than intended.
–––
The pair showed up to Jotaro’s apartment 15 minutes after their agreed meeting time, which Jolyne counted as a success and Hermés counted as par for the course with Jolyne involved.
Jolyne wasn’t sure what she expected from this mystery man. Her father was a man of few words, and had shared very little about his boyfriend – was it still a boyfriend if you were middle-aged, or was there a better word for it? Partner? Lover? Wait, no, definitely not lover, ew.
Her father led them back to the living room, where a lanky little Japanese man was reclining on the couch. He had long red hair, pulled back in a loose braid, and these weird, nerdy little wire-rimmed glasses perched on a sharp nose. He was wearing a drapey green cardigan (knitwear? In Florida?) over a patterned buttoned-up shirt and incredibly tight trousers under his bulky metal leg braces. He was stylish, Jolyne supposed, in a gay, academic kind of way.
He rose slightly to greet Jolyne, leaning his arms on the arm of the couch for balance. When he smiled, Jolyne noticed twin scars running through the centers of his eyelids down his angular cheeks, and a wide, goofy mouth. Jolyne desperately attempted to smother the intrusive thoughts about the relationship between that enormous mouth and her father (ew, ew, ew).
He kind of looked like a Muppet, but like, handsome? Like if Kermit the Frog was a Japanese twink?
His voice shocked Jolyne out of her reverie.
“Hi, Jolyne, I’m Kakyoin Noriaki. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
Jolyne awkwardly took his hand. “Jolyne Kujo. But you know that, I guess.” Her brain buffered a little, albeit slower than normal. “Um, sorry, is Kakyoin your given name or family name?”
He smiled politely. “It’s my family name, but lots of people call me Kakyoin anyway. You can call me Noriaki if you’d prefer. I don’t mind either way.”
Jolyne nodded, deciding to wait to see what her father called him. “Oh, and this is Hermés. My girlfriend.” Hermés gave a little two-finger salute as she sat down.
Jolyne found herself somewhat out of sorts. Hermés was better with social situations, always had been.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kakyoin. Dr., uh, Jotaro hasn’t told us all that much about you.” Hermés broke the silence. Thank God for Hermés.
Kakyoin smirked. “No, he wouldn’t, would he?”
His smirk looked familiar, and something clicked in Jolyne’s mind. “Wait. You’re in the picture. Aren’t you? That Polaroid from the desert. On Dad’s desk.”
Jotaro sighed, looking a little embarrassed.
“Oh, Jojo, you still have that? You sap!” Kakyoin grinned. “Yes, I met your father when we were 17. Your great-grandfather, too. We were traveling to Cairo to kill Dio. You know about Dio?”
Jolyne nodded solemnly. “That motherfucker.”
“Language, Jolyne,” Jotaro scolded.
Jolyne rolled her eyes. “Get off my case, Dad. I’m an adult.”
Kakyoin looked at the two of them fondly. “God, she really is your daughter, isn’t she, Jojo?”
Man, this guy was weird. Jolyne turned to face Kakyoin. “So what’s your, like… deal?” Jolyne wasn’t one to mince words, and she was too nervous to pretend to be polite.
“Jolyne,” Jotaro warned, as Hermés nudged her gently with an elbow. Kakyoin shrugged it off.
“Don’t worry about me, Jojo, I can handle myself.” He adjusted his glasses, fixing his gaze on Jolyne. “Now, what do you want to know? I’m an open book. Kakyoin Noriaki, 41, Leo, born and raised in Japan. My stand is named Hierophant Green and he’s been with me since birth. At 17 I was nearly blinded - hence the scars - and then punched in the spine by a vampire.” He smirked, gesturing to the complicated-looking braces on his legs. “Still hurts, but I can sometimes walk now, which is nice. I work for the Speedwagon Foundation – mostly research and intelligence, I’m not much for fieldwork these days. On my days off, I mostly paint, or knit, or sit on the beach with your father and read while he silently catalogues every fish he sees.” He smirked again at this last comment, and took a breath. “What else?”
Jolyne chuckled. “You’re not what I expected.”
Kakyoin looked incredibly amused. “And what did you expect, then?”
“I’m not sure.” She turned awkwardly to Hermés, looking for reassurance. “Am I supposed to tell you all about myself, now?”
“If you’d like. Your father has told me quite a bit, though. He talks about you often.”
“...really? You’re just fucking with me, right?”
Jotaro pulled down the brim of his hat to hide his embarrassed smirk. “ Language, Jojo.”
Jolyne rolled her eyes melodramatically. “Ugh, come on, Dad. I speak enough Japanese to know that you swear constantly.”
“...I’m your father. I’m allowed to do that.”
Kakyoin giggled. “Good lord, it’s like going back in time!” He smiled warmly at Jotaro. “Could you go get me another cup of coffee, love?”
Jotaro looked a little put-out, but nodded, gesturing at Jolyne and Hermés inquisitively. Jolyne shook her head, curling her hands around her still-full cup and taking a nervous sip as her father left the room.
Kakyoin fixed Jolyne with an intense gaze again. “Jolyne.” He reached out one slim hand, gently touching hers. “You look so anxious. You can relax, I promise.”
Jolyne felt a little pang of irritation. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “Just don’t get it, that’s all. You seem pretty normal – I mean, aside from the stand shit. I don’t get what you want with my dad.”
“What I want with him?” Kakyoin looked a little surprised. “I love him, Jolyne. I have no ulterior motives here. I care about him, and he cares about you, so here I am.”
Jolyne didn’t respond. Hermés looked uncomfortable. “I think she just means, well, that this is new for her. Jotaro doesn’t date much from what Jolyne’s told me, and the divorce was a long time ago.”
“Don’t speak for me, babe,” Jolyne cut in. “Wait, fuck, sorry. I’m not mad at you.” She sighed, resting her head in her hands. “I’m just…”
“Emotionally stunted? Bad at talking about your feelings?” Kakyoin’s expression was tender, but more than a little amused. Hermés snorted.
“Ugh. Yeah. Thanks, Dad.” Jolyne sighed. “Sorry. We’re… still working through some stuff. Me and him. I think. We haven’t talked about it much.”
“I know. He talks about you a lot. Really, he does. I’ve been trying to… I’ve been encouraging him to talk to you about it, but it’s slow going. Old dog, new tricks, all that. But he really does regret all the time he spent away. He thought it would protect you, I think – did the same to me, for many years.” Kakyoin sighed, took his glasses off and wiped them down with the hem of his sweater. “You’re right to be suspicious of me, honestly. I’d be suspicious too, if my absentee dad suddenly reappeared with a relationship after years of self-imposed isolation. But I think he’s trying. I am too. That’s the best I can offer you.”
Jolyne felt tears well in her eyes. Stupid, traitorous emotions. She was not going to cry in front of this weirdo, though, so she squeezed Hermés’ hand tighter. Jolyne nodded tersely. “Ok. Thank you.”
Jotaro re-entered with a fresh cup of coffee, and Kakyoin smiled as he took a sip. “Now, I’m sure you’d like to hear all my embarrassing stories about Kujo Jotaro, 17-Year-Old Delinquent?”
Jotaro mumbled something and tugged the brim of his hat. Jolyne grinned, for the first time since arriving. “Oh, my GOD. Tell me everything. ”
“Well, he used to do this trick with lit cigarettes…”
–––
As it happened, Jolyne and Kakyoin had more in common than Jolyne had expected; namely, a shared passion for roasting the shit out of Jotaro Kujo. Funny how these things work out.
–––
By the time Hermés nudged Jolyne to indicate it was time to leave, Jolyne’s anxiety over crop tops and awkward silences was more or less forgotten.
She stood up to – maybe hug her father goodbye? Maybe just leave? But it was Kakyoin who managed to swoop in for the first hug, to her surprise. He wasn’t much taller than Jolyne herself, but nonetheless gave her an affectionate little kiss on the head as they embraced.
“You’re a good kid, Jolyne. I’m glad to be in your life.”
Jolyne blushed at all the affection. “Yeah, yeah. If you break my dad’s heart I’ll kick your ass.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, dear!” He smiled brightly. “Jotaro, hug your daughter!”
“You’re not the boss of me,” Jotaro pouted, but he pulled Jolyne in for a warm embrace. “It’s good to see you, Jojo.”
“Yeah. You too.” She pulled back, and watched Kakyoin wrap an arm around Jotaro’s waist. There was something content in her father’s eyes – something shockingly near a smile on his lips – it made Jolyne feel happy, and surprised, and bitter, and warm, all at once. She was utterly lost on how to verbalize this.
“I like him, Dad. He’s way too good for you. Lock that shit down before he figures that out,” she joked. Ah, humor, a classic Joestar-Kujo deflection technique.
Jotaro didn’t chastise her for cursing, this time. “I know.” He tilted his head to rest on the top of Kakyoin’s.
“Ok, ew, don’t get all mushy on me now! Who even are you?” She smiled. “Wait, seriously, what do I call you, Noriaki? Like, ‘my dad’s boyfriend’ sounds low-key scandalous. Like, you’re too old for that.”
“Jotaro’s my partner,” responded Kakyoin.
“This isn’t a business transaction, Nori,” Jotaro responded. “But it’s not that important. What we are to each other is nobody else’s business.”
“Would you prefer to be my lover, Dr. Kujo?” Kakyoin replied mischievously.
“Okay, ew, nope, we’re leaving now!” Jolyne tugged her girlfriend’s arm in the direction of the door. Hermés waved, laughing as Jolyne dragged her out the door.
“Nice meeting you girls! Come back any time!”
“Nori, this is my apartment.”
The door clicked shut, muffling the fading sounds of Kakyoin’s laughter.