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The battle was over. DIO was dead. The man they had been fighting against for the past fifty days was dead.
But that didn’t mean peace for the rest of the Crusaders.
Joseph had already been taken away by the Speedwagon foundation in a helicopter, his severe wounds being treated. The knife had barely missed his heart, and he was currently unconscious. Avdol, Iggy, and Polnareff had been taken away as well, loaded into an ambulance and rushed toward a nearby hospital.
But Kakyoin… he didn’t get off as easily as they had.
Jotaro’s eyes snapped over to him almost immediately. Kakyoin was lying on the ground several dozen meters away underneath a water tower, unmoving. “Kakyoin…” Jotaro muttered. And before he had a moment to think, he ran.
He sprinted across the rubble, ignoring all the pain radiating from all over his body. His boots kicked up dust and pieces of broken stone beneath him as he ran, and he almost tripped a few times. But as he got closer to Kakyoin, his breathing grew quicker.
Jotaro dropped to his knees beside him. “Kakyoin.”
For a moment, Jotaro couldn't move. He stared down at him, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing. Kakyoin's uniform was torn and stained with blood, and there was a deep wound in his abdomen that made Jotaro's stomach twist. He looked impossibly still.
Jotaro's eyes moved frantically over him, searching for anything. A rise and fall of his chest. The twitch of a finger. Anything that could tell him that Kakyoin was still there.
Jotaro reached toward him, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before pressing two fingers against the side of Kakyoin’s neck. His own heartbeat was pounding so loudly in his ears that he almost couldn’t tell whether he felt anything beneath his fingertips. For one terrible moment, there was nothing. Then—faintly, so faintly that Jotaro almost convinced himself he had imagined it—he felt a pulse.
“Kakyoin.” His voice came out quieter this time. “Hey.”
There was no response.
Jotaro swallowed hard and placed his hand on Kakyoin’s neck once again. The pulse was still there, faint but steady. He was alive. Somehow, Kakyoin was still alive. But Jotaro had a hard time believing that would last very long.
Jotaro barely had time to process the thought before he heard footsteps approaching from behind him. Several people were shouting to one another, their voices cutting through the distant noise of the city and the helicopters waiting nearby.
“Over here!” someone called. “We have another casualty!”
No…
Jotaro turned sharply toward the voices. A few paramedics were headed their way, carrying medical equipment and calling out to one another as they searched the area for anyone who had survived. One of them spotted Kakyoin and changed direction, hurrying toward them with two others close behind. Jotaro could already see the conclusion they had come to from the way they moved. They were approaching Kakyoin like they were approaching a body.
“He’s alive,” Jotaro said.
The paramedic barely seemed to hear him. He dropped down next to Kakyoin and reached for his neck. As he did so, his expression changed. “I’m not getting anything,” he called out.
“You’re wrong.” Jotaro's voice was sharper now. “He has a pulse.”
The man tried again, pressing his fingers more firmly against Kakyoin’s neck. One of the others crouched beside him and began checking for other signs of life. Jotaro watched them with growing frustration, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He had felt it. He knew he had. It had been faint, but it had been there. Kakyoin was alive.
“Sir, you need to move.”
“No.”
“We need to assess him.”
“I said no.” Jotaro stepped closer, putting himself between them and Kakyoin. “He’s alive.”
“If he is, you need to move so we can treat him immediately. You’re in the way.”
Jotaro didn’t move a muscle. His adrenaline was still flowing strong, so he hardly felt any pain from the few knives lodged in his chest. But it did worry everyone standing in front of him. “Sir, you should get checked out as—”
“I felt his pulse,” Jotaro said, ignoring the medic’s recommendation.
The paramedic held Jotaro's gaze for a moment before apparently deciding that arguing with him was going nowhere. “Fine. Stay nearby, but stay out of our way.” He turned back toward Kakyoin and began giving instructions to the others. “Get the stretcher. We need oxygen and a pressure dressing immediately. His blood pressure is dropping.”
Jotaro's stomach dropped at the last sentence. He stepped back, though every instinct in him told him not to. The paramedics surrounded Kakyoin, cutting away the remaining fabric around his wound and working towards stabilizing him. Jotaro watched every movement with an intensity that made his head ache. He wanted to help. He wanted to do something. Instead, all he could do was stand there and watch these strangers try to keep Kakyoin alive.
When Kakyoin was finally lifted onto the stretcher, his head rolled slightly to the side. His eyelid fluttered just barely, and for a moment, Jotaro thought he was waking up. “Kakyoin?” he called, stepping forward.
Kakyoin's eyes opened only a fraction. They didn't seem to focus on anything at first, but then they shifted toward Jotaro. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
Jotaro moved closer, despite himself. “I’m here.”
“He's unconscious,” one of the paramedics said.
“He's alive,” Jotaro replied.
“Yes. He's alive.”
The words should have been obvious. Jotaro already knew them. He had felt the pulse himself. He had watched Kakyoin open his eyes, even if only for a moment.
But hearing someone else say it made something in his chest loosen slightly. But not enough. Not nearly enough, no. Because alive didn’t mean safe, nor did it mean stable. Kakyoin had survived the fight. He had somehow survived DIO. But that didn’t mean he was out of danger.
The sound of the helicopter blades grew louder overhead. Dust and loose pieces of rubble scattered across the ground as the Speedwagon Foundation helicopter landed nearby.
The paramedics moved quickly, securing Kakyoin onto the stretcher before lifting him. Jotaro immediately stepped forward.
“I'm coming with him.”
One of the paramedics looked at him. “You need medical attention too,” he said once again.
“I'm fine.”
The paramedic glanced at the blood on his uniform and the knives still embedded in his body. “I don’t believe that you are…”
Jotaro ignored him.
The paramedic sighed. “You can come. But you sit down, and you stay out of the way.”
Jotaro didn't argue. Not because he agreed, but because it meant he could stay.
They wheeled Kakyoin toward the helicopter, moving as quickly as they could without jostling him too much. Jotaro followed close behind, keeping his eyes fixed on the stretcher. Every few seconds, one of the paramedics glanced back at him as if they were expecting him to suddenly collapse, but Jotaro paid them no attention. His body was screaming at him to stop, to sit down, to let someone examine the wounds he had accumulated throughout the fight, but none of that mattered to him right now. Kakyoin was still in danger, and that was all he could think about.
The helicopter's rotors whipped the air into a violent whirlwind around them as they approached. Jotaro raised an arm to shield his face from the dust while keeping his other hand close to the brim of his hat. The medics loaded Kakyoin into the cabin first, carefully securing the stretcher into place before one of them climbed inside after him. Jotaro waited only long enough to make sure they had room before stepping aboard himself.
“Sit there,” one man instructed, pointing toward a seat along the side of the cabin. “And don't interfere with our work.”
Jotaro sat down without a word. His eyes immediately returned to Kakyoin.
The helicopter doors were pulled shut, cutting off most of the chaos outside. The sound of the rotors became a dull, constant roar, and the ground beneath them began to disappear as the helicopter lifted into the air. Jotaro barely noticed. His attention remained fixed on the stretcher in front of him, on the paramedics working around Kakyoin, and on the faint rise and fall of his chest.
For the first time since the battle had ended, Jotaro was forced to sit still.
And that was much worse.
The adrenaline that had carried him through the battle was starting to fade, and the knives embedded in his chest weren’t just sitting there like accessories anymore. They started to hurt. But, that didn’t mean he was gonna start crying out all of a sudden. He was focused on Kakyoin, and making sure that he was alive.
One of the medics was looking over him, checking the wound on his midsection. Meanwhile, another secured an oxygen mask on his face.
Kakyoin looked almost peaceful now, his eyes closed and his face strangely pale beneath the blood and dust still clinging to him.
Jotaro hated it.
He hated how still Kakyoin was. He hated how little he could do. Most of all, he hated the thought that if he had arrived only a few moments later, there might have been nothing anyone could do for him at all. For fifty days, Jotaro had been certain that there would be another time after this was all over. Another time for him to express his feelings to Kakyoin, to tell him how much…
…how much he loved him. Jotaro had started to take that for granted. Now, with Kakyoin sitting with his eyes shut just a few feet in front of him, Jotaro wasn’t so sure that ‘another time’ would come anymore.
Jotaro leaned back against the side of the helicopter and closed his eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was beginning to settle over him, heavy and unavoidable. He could still hear the paramedics speaking, the helicopter blades beating against the air, and the faint beeping of the equipment beside Kakyoin
Then he heard a quiet sound.
Jotaro's eyes opened immediately.
Kakyoin shifted slightly against the stretcher. His fingers twitched, and his brow furrowed beneath his messy red hair. A groan escaped him before his eyes opened slowly.
“Kakyoin?” Jotaro leaned slightly forward before he could stop himself.
Kakyoin's eyes moved sluggishly around the cabin before finally settling on him. For a few seconds, he just stared. Then his expression softened. “Jotaro…” His voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah… yeah, I’m here.”
Kakyoin's eyes closed again, but this time they didn't seem to completely lose focus. He looked exhausted rather than unconscious, as though staying awake required more effort than he could afford. “You should rest,” Jotaro said quietly.
Kakyoin gave the faintest shake of his head. “Can't.”
“Why?”
Kakyoin's eyes opened just enough to look at him again. “Don't want to.”
Jotaro stared at him. “Well, that's pretty stupid.”
A tiny smile appeared on Kakyoin's face. “Yeah.”
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Kakyoin's breathing changed. It was subtle, but Jotaro noticed immediately. His eyes opened a little wider before his face scrunched a bit with pain. One of his hands shifted against the stretcher.
“Hey.”
Kakyoin let out another quiet groan and squeezed his eyes shut.
The paramedic immediately leaned over him. “Stay still. You're okay. Just breathe.”
Jotaro watched helplessly as Kakyoin struggled to obey. His eyes stayed fixed on
Kakyoin's face, searching for any signs that he was getting worse.
Eventually, Kakyoin's breathing steadied again, but his eyes remained closed.
Jotaro's heart sank. He had almost lost him once. He might still lose him. And suddenly, the thought that had been sitting somewhere in the back of his mind since the beginning of their journey came rushing to the front. I might never see him again.
Jotaro looked at Kakyoin. He remembered every time he had almost said something and stopped himself. Every conversation that had ended too soon. Every moment when he had thought there would be another opportunity.
This time, there might not be.
Jotaro leaned forward, hesitating only for a moment. Then, he pulled the oxygen mask up from Kakyoin’s face.
“Noriaki.”
Kakyoin's eyes opened again, surprised by hearing his first name come from Jotaro's mouth.
Jotaro didn't give himself enough time to reconsider.
He leaned down and kissed him.
Jotaro expected nothing.
The kiss lasted only a moment before he began to pull away, already feeling the weight of what he had just done settle over him. He had acted without thinking, driven by the fear that if he waited even a little longer, he might never have the chance again.
Then he felt Kakyoin's fingers curl weakly around the sleeve of his coat. Jotaro froze.
Kakyoin's eyes were still open. They were tired and unfocused, but there was no confusion in them. He was looking directly at Jotaro. After a moment, Kakyoin leaned forward as much as he could and returned the kiss.
It was brief. Barely more than a touch. But it was more than enough.
When Jotaro finally pulled away, he stared at him, completely unable to find anything to say. Kakyoin's hand remained loosely curled around his sleeve, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You're an idiot,” Kakyoin whispered.
Jotaro blinked. “What?”
Kakyoin's smile grew slightly. “You could've just asked.”
Jotaro stared at him for another second before looking away. His face felt strangely warm, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to blame the helicopter for it. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
Kakyoin's expression softened. “I know.”
His eyes began to close again, and Jotaro immediately tensed. “Nori?”
“I'm just tired,” Kakyoin murmured, not lucid enough to even register the nickname.
Jotaro didn't completely believe him, but the steady beeping on the monitor beside him continued, and Kakyoin's breathing remained even. After a moment, Jotaro reached down and carefully took his hand. Kakyoin's fingers shifted against his, and Jotaro held on. He had spent the last few minutes thinking that this might be the last time he ever saw Kakyoin. That the words he had kept to himself for fifty days might never have a chance to be spoken, and that this kiss might have been nothing more than a goodbye.
But Kakyoin was still breathing. He was still here.
And for the first time since the battle ended, Jotaro allowed himself to believe that there would be another day.