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Kakyoin’s rise from the realm of unconsciousness comes with the sudden awareness of two things: one, a sharp, searing pain in his forehead that pounds with each beat of his heart, and two, eyes as blue and vast as the ocean pinning him in place, the intensity of the stare so great that he feels his very soul buckle under their scrutiny.
Kakyoin has no idea what’s going on. He’s prone against a cold, wooden floor and above him a ghostly hand grasps at a writhing mass of flesh. He recognizes that the one holding him is none other than Jotaro Kujo, the man he failed to assassinate. Kakyoin’s instincts tell him to run, but those eyes keep him still, like he has no choice but to stay exactly where he is.
“Don’t move, Kakyoin, or your brain is done for.” Jotaro says, his eyes never wavering in their focus. Despite the words, it doesn’t sound like a threat. For someone who beat him within an inch of his life, the palms cupping his face now feel secure and safe despite every logical impulse in Kakyoin’s brain saying otherwise. His mind is still hazy, but clarity comes to him in waves as the ghostly hand that he can now recognize as Jotaro’s Stand pulls at something embedded in the flesh of his forehead. It hurts, the object fights its removal, but he remains still. What else can he do? He’s utterly helpless. He can see the tentacles of whatever is in his forehead traveling up the other’s arm, but Jotaro’s focus never wavers, even with the disgusting parasite inching its way towards his eyes.
Kakyoin isn’t sure how he feels about this situation. He’s terrified for sure, the fear of death at the hands of this stranger is the only clear emotion through his haze, but with each wave of clarity he feels relief, and a glimmer of pure, desperate hope that the fleshy mass is removed. He doesn’t know exactly what it is, but there’s an instinctual disgust towards it that goes beyond the ghastly appearance of the thing, like he somehow knows that how the parasite got into him is worse than having it inside him.
A pull, a shout, a flash of light, and the fleshy mass disintegrates into the air.
It’s like a fog has been lifted and he can see with complete clarity. His thoughts come to him rapidly, no longer bogged down and sluggish. It’s like he’s been reborn. He couldn’t remember the last time his mind felt so clear.
Just what was that thing?
He doesn’t get a chance to ask. As soon as his task is finished, Jotaro pulls the brim of his hat over his eyes and gets to his feet to make a swift exit. Kakyoin has no idea what’s going on or why Jotaro would bother bringing him here. Last he remembered, Kakyoin had nearly killed him, so why in the world would Jotaro risk his own life to save his?
“Why?” He finds himself asking, frustrated that he has to fight to keep his voice level. “Why did you risk your life to save me?”
Jotaro turns to face him, those curious eyes locked onto him again. “I don’t really know myself.” He replies, turning away to fix his gaze on the garden outside.
The answer pulls at something deep in Kakyoin’s chest. It’s such a stupid, bullshit answer, yet he feels dampness gather at his lashes and he pretends he doesn’t notice. He can’t show weakness in front of these strangers, but the feeling in his chest is overwhelming, his emotions spilling over in a way he’s never felt before. He never felt like his life was worth anything. Having a Stand felt like a curse; he never should have been born and because he had the misfortune to exist he was destined to die alone and miserable, never amounting to anything. But this stranger risked his own life with the belief that Kakyoin’s life was valuable. That he deserved to live.
Once he sits up and presses his fingers to his bleeding hairline, a woman attends to him, fussing over him and dressing his wounds. Before Kakyoin can ask any more questions, Jotaro leaves the room.
The woman, who he now knows is Jotaro’s mother Holly Kujo, secures a bandage to his head. “I’ll prepare the guest room for you. Will you be staying for dinner?”
Before Kakyoin can reply, the elder man beside them loudly declares his disdain for futons and goes off into a tirade with Holly over her name. Kakyoin is so exhausted he can hardly follow the conversation, so instead he takes a moment to assess the other inhabitants of the room. The elder man is apparently Holly’s father Joseph. He seems gregarious, boisterous, and apparently has a disdain for all things Japanese. The other man is apparently named Avdol. He, like Kakyoin, seems to have little interest in the conversation, but Kakyoin does notice a flash of amusement in his eyes at the arguing, so Joseph’s outbursts must be a common occurrence. None of them seem to have any interest in harming Kakyoin. Their silly conversation almost feels normal, a domestic scene that Kakyoin has only ever seen in movies.
“Well, Kakyoin, since Papa is stubborn and won’t do it, I’ll go prepare the guest room for you.” Holly pats Kakyoin’s shoulder and exits the room, leaving him alone with the two older men. The silence that stretches between them is awkward, so Kakyoin allows his curiosity to overtake his politeness.
”Mr. Joestar, could you please tell me what that thing was?” He asks, pointing at his forehead to clarify.
The elder nods solemnly. “It was something called a ‘flesh bud.’ A mass of DIO’s own cells that he implants into his followers to control them.”
That explains why he feels so much more alert now. No “flesh bud” to dumb him down.
“That man is a monster. Killing and controlling innocent people.” Joseph spits.
“He disgusts me.” Avdol agrees, with no less malice.
“What would have happened to me if Jotaro hadn’t removed it? Would I have been Dio’s servant forever?” The idea of being enslaved the rest of his life makes him bristle with indignation.
“You would have been dead in a few days. Your mind devoured by Dio’s insatiable cells.” Avdol’s voice is grave.
Dead. He could have died without ever even fighting Jotaro. Did Dio know this? Had Dio really cared that little for him?
“... I see.” Kakyoin says, struggling to keep his voice level despite the disgust rising in his throat. He needs to be alone to process all of this. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re very lucky Jotaro’s Stand is so precise. Without it, I’m afraid there would have been no saving you.” Avdol says. The following silence hangs heavy. Thankfully he doesn’t have to wait long for Holly to return to save him from the oppressive atmosphere.
“The room is ready for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kujo. I think I should get some rest now. Could you please show me to the guest room?” Despite how dreadful he feels, he puts on a smile for her. It’s the least he can do for how hospitable she’s been to him.
“No need to be so formal, Kakyoin. Call me Holly. Can you walk?” Holly asks, her voice warm and full of obvious sympathy.
“I believe so.”
She offers her hand and Kakyoin takes it, rising from the floor to follow her through the enormous house.
***
Kakyoin sleeps for a long time once he’s finally given some space. He’s too exhausted to be cautious, and at this point he’s fairly certain that Jotaro and his companions don’t want to kill him. Exhaustion eats away at him, dragging his eyelids heavy, so sleep is all he could do. His mind is so drained that he doesn’t even dream.
Once he wakes, he tends to himself. Holly had left a pitcher of water for him, so he takes the opportunity to drink. He hadn’t realized how dehydrated he was; once the water hits his lips he’s guzzling it down as if he’d been wandering through the desert. It makes him wonder just how badly he’d been taking care himself under the flesh bud’s influence. Once he’s had his fill, he swipes a thumb over his mouth, stands on too-wobbly feet, and leaves the room. There’s a clear pond just outside, so he takes a moment to study his appearance.
The person staring back at him might as well be a stranger. His face is gaunt, his violet eyes dulled to the color of stone, and the bags under his eyes are so pronounced that he may as well have smeared product there. His hair has grown out enough that his dark roots are clearly showing through. His normally fluffy bangs are mussed and spindly across the bandaging on his forehead with his signature curly lock tucked messily behind his ear.
This is not the Kakyoin he remembers. The reflection is not of someone who proudly held his head high in the face of adversity, who politely kept everyone at arm’s length because he knew no one could never hope to understand him. This person looks weak. He looks tired. He looks broken
It’s embarrassing to think he had been walking around like this, that people had seen him look so disheveled and unkempt. He hasn’t checked his body yet, but the dull ache of hunger he feels tells him that he must be thin under the fabric of his gakuren.
Who knows how long he had been like this? Holly had told him it was November and he hadn’t believed it. How could he just lose three months? But the chill in the air that settles deep in his bones belies the impossible truth of her words. Three months had passed and he had been oblivious to it. He could hardly remember anything after he left Dio in Cairo.
And he desperately wishes he could forget what came before.
He clenches his fists and returns back to the warmth of the room. He doesn’t want to remember, but Dio is the only thing of clarity he has. Now that he has time to think back, his mind hurtling back three months to that fateful August night in Cairo, Kakyoin’s heart seizes. It hurts, he feels so used, and more than anything he’s angry. He can’t remember any helpful details like where Dio’s mansion was or what his powers were (no doubt the gap in memory is the flesh bud’s doing), but he intimately remembers their time alone together. It aches to know that it never mattered. That the affection he had been so eager to receive was for nothing- worse than nothing- because it had all just been a trick to gain his trust and use him as a pawn. He never meant anything to Dio.
He feels filthy. His memories come flooding back in perfect clarity; Dio’s hands on him, his mouth whispering sweet lies, knowing now that Dio had intended for him to die once he fulfilled his usefulness as a pawn. His skin prickles, he wants desperately to bathe, but he’s in a foreign house with strangers and as much as he wants to wash away the ghost of Dio’s touch, his desire to be alone outweighs his discomfort. He doesn’t want to break down in front of anyone. Not people he was assigned to kill - and especially not those same people who saved him despite that.
But the sensation is overwhelming. He feels the telltale tightness of anxiety in his chest and he knows that whatever efforts of calming down are useless. His hands shake with frustration and he’s furious- he’s not a child anymore, he shouldn’t be letting his emotions get the best of him like this. His breathing comes shorter and shallower despite his attempts at controlling it. His teeth clench, his stomach churns, and it’s like he’s in Cairo again, alone and afraid in that dark alley, the smell of blood and death filling his nose. The monster he saw in the alleyway was the true Dio. The man who made Kakyoin feel at peace was just a farce, a lonely boy’s desperate illusion fed by malicious mind control.
A murderer touched him. A monster stole everything from him, and Kakyoin had given himself up so easily, all because he was weak. He was so afraid to die that he hadn’t even tried to resist. The flesh bud alleviated his fear and commanded him to obey, but even knowing now that his mind was being manipulated, he’s not entirely sure if he would’ve resisted without it. He remembers how happy he was when Dio spent time with him, how thrilled he was when Dio touched his Stand for the very first time. He can still recall that electrifying sensation of Dio’s fingers touching Hierophant Green’s body and finally, finally having his Stand’s existence be proven beyond any doubt. Dio was the first person who could ever truly understand him, the first person Kakyoin ever felt compelled to be close to, so when Dio offered his love, he couldn’t even fathom saying no. Why would he?
But he knows better now. He gave himself up willingly and that’s almost worse than the alternative. He let himself be dragged into Dio’s world and consumed by him. He lost himself, completely devoted his life to a monster, all because he was desperate for a little companionship.
How pathetic. Jotaro was wrong to save his worthless life.
You’re weak without me, Noriaki. Remember how alone you were? Who else would care for someone like you?
Dio’s taunts ring in his ears, he can feel Dio’s nails drag caresses across his skin, and the sensations cause Kakyoin’s panic to skid out of control. The room around him blurs out of focus, he holds his arms around him in a futile attempt to anchor himself to reality. The hands trailing down his waist feel too real to be just his imagination- Dio is here, he’s in this room, he’s taking him back and enslaving his mind again.
”How did you get here? How did you know I failed?” Kakyoin whimpers, hating himself for how small and terrified his voice sounds in his ears.
Is there still a part of the flesh bud embedded in his body? Or are these hallucinations a byproduct of having the bud removed, a way to punish anyone for defying him? The monster’s hands are all over him, his body overpowers him. He’s smothered by the all-consuming power of Dio. All Kakyoin sees is red, he can feel his blood pooling down his body.
I will always be with you, my dear Noriaki. You will always belong to me.
Dio’s voice is syrupy sweet in his ear. His throat aches as Dio’s fangs graze his skin, the hand at his waist sinks into his flesh, slowly consuming him. He was just a toy, a pawn. He meant nothing to Dio. He’s useless, pathetic, worse than worthless. He wants to get away, has to. He can’t let this happen again. He won’t be weak! He can’t-!
His vision is snapped by Hierophant Green’s sudden hold at his wrist. Kakyoin’s panic flares up and he almost fights back until he looks down and realizes why his Stand is restraining him. In his frenzy he’s torn away at the flesh of his arms. His skin is inflamed and red, there’s blood under his nails, and all Kakyoin can do is stare, his eyes wide with disbelief. With his panicked hallucinations finally dispelled by Hierophant, the reality of what he did to himself makes his blood run cold.
He had just wanted Dio’s hands off of him. He hadn’t meant to do something so rash. The blood shocks him to stillness, all he can do is silently stare at the angry lines slashed into his arms, fighting the bile rising in his throat. Hierophant gingerly coils around him, and as the spirit nestles his head against his shoulder, something in Kakyoin finally breaks. With his arms bleeding and raw, the cruel reality of the last three months sinks in. His sobs are silent, his eyes burn, and he holds on tightly to Hierophant, burying his face into the junction between his neck and shoulder plates. Hierophant winds himself tightly around Kakyoin holding him close the way he always had as a lonely child.
***
[OOC: So here's where I wasn't sure what to do. I could never figure out how much detail I wanted to go into. Go into body autonomy? I had headcanons about Kakyoin's body and his punk attitude, in particular with his hair. So I put that here. I also wanted to accentuate how he respected Holly as a kind person. Never got it to really flow right, but here's what I had. I also wanted to bring in a headcanon of mine that Avdol was a young dad who had a child with Stand sickness, so that's why he knows so much about it, but I couldn't make it work. Below is the roughest parts since they never got out of the outlining stages.]
Kakyoin holds on to Hierophant for a long time. He doesn’t realize how much time he loses until a gentle knock on the door pulls him out of his own head.
”Kakyoin? Would you like to join us for dinner?” The cheerful voice belongs to Holly. Kakyoin can’t believe she would invite him to eat with them; doesn’t she have any problem with the fact that he almost killed her son? They can’t possibly forgive that easily, can they? Then, as if Holly could read his thoughts, “If you’re worried about earlier today, I’m sure they’re not mad at you.” She assures and Kakyoin is impressed by her perceptiveness.
He’s grateful for her offer, he really is, but the last thing he wants right now is to pretend that he’s okay. If the rest of her family is even half as perceptive as she is, then all of Kakyoin’s emotions will be obvious and he’ll be more vulnerable than he wants to be. He’s already looked weak enough in front of them all. “Thank you for including me, but I’d rather not tonight.” He declines, keeping his voice as polite and even as possible to avoid any concern for his wellbeing.
“That’s alright. Please do let me know if you need anything!” Before he can think better of it, Kakyoin gets up and slides the door open to get her attention. “Actually, Mrs. Holly, there is something.” “Yes?” “I’d like to take a bath. Could you please show me where?” “Of course. Would you like me to clean your clothes?” He clings to his uniform like a second skin, but cleaning it will be just as helpful as bathing for getting Dio’s phantom touches off of him. “If it’s no trouble, I would appreciate that.” “Of course it’s no trouble. You’re so polite, my son could learn a thing or two from you!” The comment is embarrassing, but it makes him smile nonetheless. “Oh, and Mrs. Holly, there is one more thing. Do you happen to have any scissors? Apparently I wasn’t taking very good care of myself the last few months.” He smooths a hand through his messy bangs and flashes her a sheepish grin. “I should have some stashed away somewhere. I’ll bring them.” “Thank you.” //
”Thats alright. I’ll bring you some food in a bit.” She says and her footsteps fade away to leave Kakyoin alone again.
Mrs. Holly returns a little while later with a warm smile on her face and plate full of delicious looking food. His stomach growls loudly at the sight. “Please eat up. I know it’s been a difficult day for you.” “You’re too kind.” Her warmth is infectious. Just seeing her smile makes the corners of his mouth lift. With that, Holly leaves him to eat. He picks at his food carefully. It may be the best home-cooked food he’s ever had, but with how starved he is he knows if he scarfs it all down he’ll just feel sick.
Kakyoin sighs. You can’t trust others, but even so, these strangers saved his life. Their lack of logic is driving him absolutely mad. Jotaro had no reason to risk his own life to free him. When asked, he couldn’t give a reason, and Kakyoin couldn’t fathom a reasonable explanation either. It was illogical, there was no motive to it, nothing that would even suggest subterfuge. Kakyoin couldn’t understand it. Holly had fussed over him like he was her own child. He had never received affection like that, the warm embrace of unconditional parental love.
He shouldn’t trust them, not with Dio’s wounds so fresh in his mind, and yet he feels drawn to them, like he somehow owes them for believing his life was worth saving. Regardless, if he wants to get back at Dio for making him his personal plaything, then sticking with Mr. Joestar and Avdol is probably his best bet. He will never submit again. He won’t let Dio win now that he’s been freed of his control. He will never become that cowardly Kakyoin ever again. His earlier episode was the last time he’ll allow Dio to have any control over him, the marks on his arms will serve as a reminder.
He doesn’t know how, but he’ll make Dio pay for humiliating him.
***
The bath helps. Just the simple act of showering off beforehand made him feel a thousand times less filthy. As he settles back into the hot water, he feels every touch, every caress, and even every ache from his fight with Jotaro melt away into the scalding water. The scratches on his arms sting, but the pain is necessary- a good cleaning will keep them from getting infected. Alone in the bath with only his thoughts to keep him company, he allows his mind to wander. The calmness of the bath and the warmth of the water soothe his mind enough to allow for some introspection. He has a lot to think about after his whirlwind day. How does he grow from this? He swore never to become that pathetic Kakyoin again, but how? If he can pinpoint why he felt compelled to join Dio, he can stifle that part of himself so it never happens again. The loneliness? The lack of companionship? Was that really all? He still hasn’t come to a conclusion by the time he’s staring at himself in the mirror. He frowns at the dark roots showing, but there’s not much he can do about that now. He’ll just have to pick up some hair dye the next time he’s out. He winces again at just how pallid and disheveled he looks, but that's nothing a good haircut won’t fix. He had always cut his own hair since the beginning of high school, way back when he had decided to reinvent his look. Only having the shears isn’t ideal, a razor would help thin out the hair and keep it as choppy as he likes, but he has to make do with what he has. He snips away at his bang, and periodically hands off the scissors to Hierophant to let him work with the back.. As the hair falls to the floor, he feels lighter. He starts to look more like himself. It takes some time to get it to look decent, but by the time he’s done his hair is light and fluffy like it should be. He twirls his long bang around his finger and smiles, feeling more like himself than he has in a long time.
“You have no control over me any more.” He says to a Dio that doesn’t exist. The weak Kakyoin who submitted to him is dead and gone, killed as the hair falls to the ground below. He tucks himself into his futon, letting Hierophant settle in next to him. His eyes fall shut and all he feels is freedom.
***
Kakyoin wakes up the next morning with a chill. He wanders the house bristling under the uneasiness in the air, wholly unsure of what to do, when a loud bang startles him. He goes to investigate and hears a conversation between Joseph, Avdol, and Jotaro.
Outside of the kitchen, Kakyoin only hears bits and pieces.
“She’s being killed by her Stand.”
“Not my daughter!”
“Tell me what to do about this!”
“We have to kill Dio. It’s the only way.”
Holly is being killed by her own Stand. Kakyoin can’t believe it, he can’t believe that a Stand could ever hurt its own user. The only force that kept him safe, his only friend throughout his youth. The idea that this force could ever cause harm? Inconceivable. And worse- how could this be happening to Holly of all people? She had been nothing but kind to him even though she had every right to hate him. She was the gentlest person Kakyoin has ever had the pleasure of knowing. Of all the people Dio has hurt, she is the least deserving, and it makes Kakyoin’s blood boil.
It steels him, he knows what he has to do. The overwhelming rage and pain he felt yesterday has cooled to a cold fury that smolders in his body. He will get revenge. He will kill Dio. And he will save Holly. He won’t allow Dio’s poisonous influence to take anyone else, and for that, Kakyoin would devote his life. The next time he returned to Cairo, he would have Dio's blood on his hands.