Early sakura petals blustered past my window like the celebratory confetti of spring. The gentle gusts of wind were enough to bring the sound of real life into my room, gracing my free ear with tender reminders that life was moving and the world was turning as I sat, tapping at my controller, pretending I was a better man. My other ear took in the sounds of my Famicom through one headphone, jerry-rigged so I could listen to my game when I played in the hopes that it would stop me getting distracted. It didn’t.

There was a knock at the door, and my Mom answered. I ignored the distant mumbling of her voice until I heard a familiar voice and my name. My Mom says something else cheerfully before I hear heavy footsteps on the stairs, ascending just slowly enough that it seemed like he’d make the world run on his time. I smile gently as I hear a polite knock at my door; he was holding back his strength, as he was prone to accidentally punching holes in things.

“Come in!”

Jotaro awkwardly opened the door - he wasn’t exactly used to being in other people’s houses, despite coming over weekly to play.

“Hey Jojo! What’s up?”

“Hi Kakyoin. Nothing. You?”

“Just playing Baseball. Want to watch?”

Sitting down on my bed, he was gentle and neat, but I had to tilt to counteract the effects of his weight. As the weight of his body sunk into the mattress, another weight fell. Comfortable silences were common between us, courtesy of Jotaro’s reserved ways, but this was different. This was something new, and I wondered if it would’ve been obvious to anyone else. I wondered if that was why he came to see me. I glanced at him to gauge the situation, trying not to be too obvious. He sat, hunched slightly, watching the screen. His gaze was unwavering but I knew he wasn’t really looking at the television. Past, past that was probably things he could never put into words that he’d allow to leave his lips. He stared, and sat, and listened in silence as I pushed buttons and tried to slip through the cracks in the quiet with a little comment or quip. I was met with an immovable object. I was waiting. I was playing the long game.

As the silence grew larger and larger, filling my lungs, I felt something. The nylon of his jacket brushed against the skin on my arm - a little closer now. He was looking down, just below the TV, between my console and the carpet, maybe at the cords and wires flowing like pathways just above the ground. Something was on the tip of his tongue, and it would be just a little more time.

“Do you remember everything that happened?”

Unsure of what he meant by everything, I took a second to answer.

“Um… Most of it. I guess.”

I didn’t dare to ask why. He’d talk when he was ready. If he was ever ready.

“I think about it. A lot.” He didn't look away.

It would be ok if he was never ready.

“Anything specific?”

“Not really. Just… DIO. Mom. Steely Dan. Death 13. N’Doul. Anne. You...” He trailed off.

“Yeah. I… I know what you mean.”

We sat quietly. The air began to clear but there was so much on his mind, crying out for catharsis. I wondered if he’d ever let it free. I knew he wouldn’t.

“We almost died.”

“Yeah.”

“Over and over.”

“Yeah.”

“...I was 17.”

“...Yeah.”

I was at a loss for words. I wasn’t shocked; I was feeling it too.

“I… Fucking…” He pulled off his hat and pushed it down next to him, resting his hands on his face. “It’s like a fucking song stuck in my head but it never ends and it tastes like blood in my mouth. Do you ever get that?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but he kept talking. I let him vent. I’d have my chance later.

“I relive the fucking moments where I almost died over and over. I relive the moments where everyone I loved almost fucking died before my eyes. I was 17 and I almost saw the only people who I’ve ever cared about have their organs ripped out and their skin torn open and their bodies limp and cold and I couldn’t save them. If I was a little bit slower, you would’ve died. If I was a little bit faster…” He opened his mouth, and closed it again. The most stoic man in the world was so full of love. I leaned a little closer. He didn't move.

His head was still in his hands, body shivering, chest rising and falling like he was on DIO’s death row all over again. Slipping my headphones around my neck, I cautiously reached behind him, using my arm to pull him down onto my shoulder. Curly hair fell over my forehead as he rested his head on mine, and his muscles softly untensed a little. He breathed out, and I felt my hair rustle, warm on my skin, and a little damp. Maybe it was just from his breath. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He smelled like him, and his weight, though a heavy, heavy burden, was a comfort. And if he needed me here like this forever, holding him up and close, breath in my hair and controller in my hand… I’d stay. He’d do it for me. I’ve never had a single doubt in my mind about that. My hair tickled the scar of the flesh bud.

“But you weren’t a little bit slower.”

He didn't move.

“You did it, Jotaro. We’re still here. Right here. Now. It’s over.”

“But…”

“Jojo. It’s over now. He’s gone, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Trust me.”

There was a second of silence, and I thought it wouldn’t end.

“...I trust you.”

His hands left his face. He relaxed a little more. His weight increased but it was easier to support now. One of his hands fell to his knee, and the other to mine. My heart skipped a beat, but I let it keep beating on unnoticed. I smiled, running my thumb over the Start button.

“Hey, Nori?”

“Yeah, Jojo?”

“Your hair smells nice.”

I tried not to laugh. “Thanks?” I grinned.

“I’m complimenting you. Shut up.”

“I said thanks!”

“Asshole.” He smiled. “You should get it cut, it’s getting long.”

“Fuck off.”

“Are you going to let me play or not?”

A bird sang outside, a melody for the percussion of the wind. The sky had cleared of sakura petals, leaving a clear sky in preparation for what was bound to be a beautiful sunset to paint. I grinned as I fiddled with the wires and buttons, bouncing off jokes and comments seasoned with his cocky smile and casual, comfortable lean. Outside, life was moving on, and the world kept turning as we sat, side by side. Inside, our world settled.