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Desert Rose

Summary:

He was just so cool. It was impossible not to fall for him.

This one-shot is probably not narrated by the viewpoint of the person you’re thinking of right now.

Notes:

I claim not to be a Jotakak fan. Yet I wrote this. Maybe I just gatekeep a lot, heh.

Whatever makes Kakyoin happy, I’m happy. That boy is good.

Work Text:

Jotaro Kujo had never considered the possibility of ever coming down with Hanahaki.

It was almost as if the “cool guy” front he created started to convince himself it was bigger than who he actually was. Stoic. Distant. Cold. The idea of getting close to the edge over unrequited love was just too ridiculous. As if someone like him could ever have a deep bond with another person.

That is, until the day he saw himself in a room of his house meant for visits to sleep in, holding a boy who had fought him not even an hour before. His pale, blood-covered face looked uneasy even though he was unconscious. To put it into more melodramatic words, it was truly a face that lost of sight the meaning of “love and support” long ago.

Looking closer, he was a tragic figure, that Kakyoin. Not that Jotaro had any idea of why exactly. He just seemed sad. The bags under his eyes, the sickly appearance those dashes of blood on his face gave him. Perhaps that is why Jotaro just had the impulse thought of trying to remove that flesh bud in Kakyoin’s forehead.

He just wanted to save someone from DIO. That’s all he wanted to do.

Then why the hell was his good deed’s response to make him choke on flowers?

**

The first one appeared around Singapore. Jotaro didn’t realise how infuriated he was for not noticing right off the bat that it was Rubber Soul alongside him. For not perceiving that his particular, sensible aura was not there, he was just being impersonated — by a subpar imitator, at that. Kakyoin had one hell of a laugh when Jotaro told him his expy tried to break a petty thief’s back.

“And what did you think of that!? Did you really buy my excuse”, Kakyoin made inverted commas with his fingers when referring to his expy as being himself, “of being tired? Come oooon!”

“Good grief. Be glad I noticed, or I wouldn’t be here to tell you this hilarious story.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Does it make you feel bad that I’m laughing? I’ll pretend it never happened.”

“It’s just that... oh, forget it.”

And in that moment, that moment of frustration for not guessing it at once, he spat out the first flower.

They say the flowers that grow in the afflicted person’s lungs vary. They depend on the loved one’s tastes, or maybe it was a flower representative of their personality (lilies for purity, for example). The pattern isn’t certain.

With that, in all honesty, Jotaro expected it to be cherry blossom — especially after all that struggle with Rubber Soul and the repulsive fruit-licking. But this one’s petals had bright pink edges, and the more they neared the center, the paler their colour became.

It was hard to determine what it was, and Jotaro would rather let himself choke to death on these flowers than ask Avdol about it and let all of them know he had the disease. So it wasn’t until the National Library in Calcutta, India, was found, that he identified the damn flower that was slowly, but surely, finding its way through his lungs.

Flipping through age-old plant catalogues and cursing the heavens for that unholy amount of dust, Jotaro finally found it. A desert rose. A weird choice indeed, with no perceivable fundament. (It’d be only ten years later that he’d find out Sting, who just so happened to be Kakyoin’s favourite musician, released a song with that name. In 1999. Fate really does find a way.)

So now it had a name. Good to know. What was he going to do with that, anyway? Impress Kakyoin? “Oh, see, I’m kinda falling for you and these are the flowers that are punishing me for it. Desert roses, that’s their name. Cool, ain’t it?” Meh. He probably just wanted to keep himself awake, wondering why desert roses.

They might’ve been trying to kill him, but god damn, they were pretty. Just like Kakyoin. And speaking of him... making no noise, he found a way to stand right next to Jotaro.

“It’s sort of surprising that you’ve decided to come see the botanics section... are you interested in following that area when you graduate from high school?” It was almost a taunt. Of course Kakyoin had no intention of causing that effect, but, given Jotaro’s current struggle, it was all those words translated to.

“Oh. You were there.” Words of indifference tried to camouflage how startled Jotaro was. Kakyoin would say (to himself, of course) later on that this just didn’t look human. “No, no, I’m thinking marine biology maybe.”

“Really? I can’t say I expected that. I myself am more inclined to art. Pity I destroyed the portrait I made of you.”

“...Did you paint me?”

“Oh, yes, in that first meeting. I don’t have a lot of memories from when I had the bud, but I do remember painting a picture of you... and slashing your leg in the picture and in real life with Hierophant, just to look dramatic.” A soft smile crossed his face.

“Oh. I see.” The corners of Jotaro’s mind dared him to ask Kakyoin for another one. As if he would. Imagine opening a crack in that perfectly made persona... imagine showing weakness for someone. No, no, no. He’d rather have a whole tree come out of his mouth.

It was partly the reason for those flowers to be coming out of Jotaro’s mouth so rampantly (as he thought about that, two more petals, a whole flower and even a stem came out). Kakyoin? He didn’t need to worry about sounding cool. That kid was a natural, from head to toe. Always knew what to say, when to say, had snark to share with his friends without fear of sounding too rude. (And Jotaro pointed that specific aspect out because, every damn time he wanted to banter, he sounded too aggressive. It was mood whiplash, to say the least.)

Jotaro mildly envied that aspect. They were both socially inept teenagers, not that one knew that about the other. Then why the hell did one behave so much more differently than the other in social situations? Was it some kind of switch that got flipped?

They really do say opposites attract.

**

Days came as fast as they went. Petals, stems and flowers were spit out with a lot of effort to being kept hidden, Star Platinum grinding them to dust as fast as they were made visible.

Kakyoin wasn’t really helping Jotaro’s case either. Showing incredible wit against the Lovers. Discovering the Sun’s secret and allowing everyone to have a good laugh, for a rare moment. And Jotaro didn’t really know about how Kakyoin conquered Death 13, but perhaps it was better. That story would’ve made the tree grow more relentlessly than ever. Damn, was he lovable.

Jotaro also grew to understand the desert roses. They thrived in hazardous terrain, a lot like Kakyoin’s graceful fighting and outsmarting of enemies. That was something to thank that scoundrel Dan for. They were a refreshing sight in a location that has the power to drain one’s energy, as everyone in the group (minus Avdol, bless his heart) found out. And so was Kakyoin. That beautiful smile, that calming aura he exuded. The desert roses were a natural choice.

And, throughout that time period — spanning from Singapore to the Red Sea —, there was a suspicion between the Crusaders that something was happening to Jotaro. Nothing spoken out loud, at least not when Jotaro was in hearing range. There were whispers.

“He looked like he was holding back in that fight”. “He’s always the one to complain about being tired”. “Once I could’ve sworn I saw something pink hanging from his mouth...” No one was ever sure of anything. It just dragged on and on. And, in that sea of doubt on Jotaro’s condition, they reached Egypt.

**

There was a reason why Jotaro was the first to reach the hospital. Of course there was.

The universe was kind to him in that aspect. With Oingo posing as him, Joseph and Polnareff were truly not aware of the fact that the true Jotaro went his separate, faster route... all for Kakyoin. It was probably stupid to think the silver-haired pair would mock Jotaro for worrying about a close friend’s health, but the alert state Hanahaki put him in made him consider that one remote possibility.

And there he was, letting a blinded Kakyoin know of his arrival by mumbling a “hello”. And maybe a “the others are coming soon, a Stand user was after them”. A half-assed excuse, at that. He just didn’t want to let the other know he was that worried. Had to keep the goddamn façade. A façade that was the main reason why Jotaro was slowly but surely dying. Too much pride to confess at once, eh? They do say that these things kill.

He hoped to God Kakyoin wouldn’t ask anything to those two about the “Stand attack” — and, in that, the redhead was almost an accomplice, as he pretended the excuse never existed. Almost as if he knew of its true nature.

It was, in a twisted way, relieving to know that Kakyoin couldn’t see a thing. He didn’t see the petals making their way out of Jotaro’s throat, or Star Platinum ending their brief existence.

There wasn’t a lot of small talk to be done, really. Jotaro just sat there, looking worriedly at Kakyoin and internally berating himself for not pulling the damn trigger. Swallowing his pride was easier than swallowing a bunch of desert roses finding their way through his lungs, after all.

He would’ve done it way easier. Damn it, he would’ve confessed in the first petal. He would probably laugh at me for trying to keep this front. Ain’t I supposed to be the cool one? Why am I doing this to myself!?

**

DIO, for one, noticed.

As the fight dragged on to the bridge, he noticed a trail of petals left by Jotaro. It was funny to him. He’d seen Jonathan get those flowers, too, though his were baby blue. JoJo eventually came to confess to Erina, before Dio himself ended their relationship (temporarily so, of course, or else the Joestars wouldn’t be still walking upon this Earth).

As for the one Jotaro’s flowers were for, he was left to die with an iron beam impaling him — courtesy of The World. DIO wasn’t worried about finishing that filthy little traitor off. He was nothing. Getting him out of the way was enough. He did a little favour for the group in hitting that clock tower, but after that he just passed out, or so it seemed. Wasn’t worth the effort, going for the kill.

Pretending he was dead was exploitable, now.

“You’re coughing up flowers, eh?”, DIO taunted. “It’s not strange. Dying of unrequited love... because who would’ve loved you?”

No response but a glare.

“Perhaps you’re thinking of that disgusting little traitor. A depressed wreck, he was, when I met him. Tried to kill himself a few months before, and all. He was truly an incompetent. Ask him to let you see the scar that reminds him of his attempt... when you both meet in Hell.”

It was what DIO was expecting. A swift punch to the face. Jotaro then felt a sharp pain in his chest from the flowers, but tried to pretend it was nothing. It was weird, though. If DIO claimed Kakyoin was dead... why was the plant still lingering?

Because he wasn’t.

The idea of being toyed with just to exploit his rage was what gave Jotaro the final spark to ignite a fire of pure rage, which led him straight to victory. He could hear Star Platinum’s war cry of “ora” ringing through his ears. And he exploded DIO’s leg, finally. With it, his entire body, crumbling in a horrid shriek of “I am DIO... I am DIO!”.

It was finally a moment to just let the blooming flowers come out at full force. Choking on the petals and the blood, Jotaro’s breathing got uneasy. The helicopter arrived just as he passed out.

**

They would’ve found out about the flowers sooner or later. It was a general consensus on who they were for. (It was just unthinkable to consider Jotaro was falling for Polnareff or Avdol. The former muttered a joke about them being for Iggy, that no one found funny but himself.)

There would’ve been a debate on whether to remove the tree surgically or not, but Kakyoin was actually awake, having just faked it back then. As Jotaro predicted, he let out a tired laugh.

“He nearly died for me... for something I would’ve greatly enjoyed to hear. You know, that’s actually adorable.” He wanted to lean over and give Jotaro a kiss to his forehead, but his injuries didn’t allow him to do so. Hierophant Green did the job instead, caressing Jotaro’s hair. That simple action, that display of reciprocated love, withered and killed the dreaded plants.

A half-awake Jotaro finally had, for the first time in forever, the sensation of breathing without having to cough up desert roses. That feeling, and the confirmation of the other end? They were anaesthetic. DIO broke Jotaro’s arm in their scuffle and he couldn’t even feel the pain.

Not when a true desert rose was there.