Chapter Text
Being a ghost was hell.
If one had asked Noriaki Kakyoin years ago-
(Decades,)
(Centuries, tied to this damn tree as it defied space time through repeated lifetimes,)
-about the idea of heaven and hell, and on what both were like, he would have coolly and calmly described them both as an idyllic paradise and a realm of greatest horror, before adding with a smirk that if either place existed, he would not be going to either.
(Perhaps while Dio had him in his thrall he would have claimed it unnecessary.)
(After the fact, when he was laying in a hospital bed with his eyes covered in bandages, he would have in contrast argued that hell was a place you did not recognize as such; there was a comfort after all, in knowing just where you stood.)
He had no idea, how right those thoughts would have been.
(All of them.)
Hell was finding oneself not in the place where they grew up, nor the place they were buried, but instead the place that could most easily be defined as their turning point before the turning point.
It wasn’t the place where he made his worst mistake. No, certainly not.
(He could still see her in his minds eye; his cousin, hurriedly stowed behind a series of wooden work skids.)
(If he’d given it half a thought before falling for DIO’s game, he’d have realized that the easiest way to get someone as slippery as Hierophant to brace for a one on one fight face to face, was to seemingly go for his cousin first.)
Instead it was before he’d had his choice made for him. Before he’d made his way to the school’s medical room, his Stand slinking in and filling the nauseatingly tight spaces of a person’s insides in order to puppet to his will.
(He couldn’t feel Hierophant anymore, Kakyoin had thought when he first woke up here. And for a number of days that had been what was on his mind. It felt as hollow as it had when he’d sent his last message, the strength of his soul long gone before he followed suit, and looking at the forever fresh wound on his front had made it clear that he was never getting Hierophant back.)
(And then Jotaro had walked by, arm in a sling, head down on the way to school, and somehow it felt all the more worse.)
When he stared at the air, he couldn’t tell exactly how long it had been. Being bound as he was, the ghost had felt days and weeks and months blur together, barely making sense of the passage of time in the form of students present and students not.
Jotaro had gone to school for a year and a number of weeks more, and then graduated. He hadn’t seen him in his tree even once, and by the end Kakyoin even sabotaged the chance by growing so frustrated by the fact that one of the higher branches actually snapped and fell right on the path.
(They’d closed it for a short time to repair the steps. Or he thought so, at least- they’d needed repairing at some point, he knew. There was a hazy feeling that somehow things had gone differently in ‘recent’ memory, but he couldn’t place it.)
(Not in the amount of time it took for a full passing of the earth to see.)
So, here he was. He knew that something had happened. Something had…repeated, it was easier to say, and perhaps that was what hell really was. Being stuck there, hovering, waiting for his living counterpart to repeat his mistakes and then rejoin him in his consciousness. Turning his every thought off as much as possible until he was numb to the world around him and then letting years skip onward emptily.
It was spring break, he could tell idly. No students walking the path for more than a day or so, which meant they wouldn’t be here for a good week or so more- he always noticed that much. Eventually there would be nothing at all for years on end save for the occasional person, but he tried not to dwell on that knowledge. That, after all, wouldn’t be for a good number of decades still.
He thought he heard something though, something faintly clipping down the steps with a clumsy ‘tap-tap’. Nothing like the sound of footsteps from highschoolers (he’d given up on making a game of things ages ago, he bitterly thought with a scowl; it wasn’t worth it, no one saw him, and all he was doing was driving himself insane). It was…
‘One-two, one-two’
…It was more like how Ryoko used to go up the apartment building stairs when her family visited, if he thought about it.
(How old was Ryoko now? An adult, obviously. But was she even still alive? Everything…merged. Everything happened and passed and repeated and happened and-)
(Jotaro probably had a family at some point. He wondered occasionally if they would be stuck with the same kind of tragedy Jotaro dealt with, or if they’d be granted the relative peace his mother had for at least until the next generation began. Then, in his wondering, he would snap and push the thoughts away before he made himself more miserable.)
(Being alone wasn’t healthy as a human. As a ghost, it was assuredly the definition of Hell, making him feel as small as he had when there was not yet a Hierophant Green to even miss. Which, perhaps, was the point all along.)
Kakyoin turned his head, and as the wind seemed briefly to blow from behind him, he squinted toward the stairs.
He was right to think it was a child. Younger than Ryoko was in Egypt, not by much, but younger. Black hair that seemed somehow familiar, and a little red scarf to accompany what was definitely the kind of kid’s designer wear given to those with well-to-do parents who could stand to replace a wardrobe every year.
(Part of him couldn’t stand it. He focused on that one point of irritation despite himself, because the other thing to focus on was the fact that a small child seemed to have taken an unhealthy interest in his tree, and he didn’t want to ask himself what that meant. Focusing on the spending habits of parents who didn’t grasp that children weren’t their dolls was easier.)
It was nothing, he told himself as he looked back up at the sky. Whoever the kid’s parents were, they would probably come down and tug her back upstairs while explaining that ‘high school was for older kids’ or some rot like that. It was a single thread of change in an entire tapestry of the same old-same old, and he wasn’t going to fixate on it.
(He thought he briefly heard an ‘ora’. Thought it, and resolutely turned even farther away.)
One-two.
One-two.
The footsteps were coming closer he realized, which meant the girl either had terrible parents, or was actually alone out here.
Which still meant ‘probably terrible parents’ in his opinion, because for all that he could remember going out to get carrots and tea from the store at age 4, he was pretty sure it would’ve ended poorly indeed if he hadn’t abruptly found himself accompanied by a friend in green.
(His parents had obligingly cooed over his ‘invisible friend’, with his father playfully asking if he was an ‘alien’ when Hierophant was described as best as possible by a small child with little to go off of beyond puddles, grass, and perhaps an octopus.)
(It did not take long before a young Noriaki realized that they did not think Hierophant was real at all.)
“Hoshi, Hoshi…”
He could hear the kid now, he realized with a glance. She was far closer- practically right under the tree, pouting up at him as if she could actually see where he sat. When she spoke however, she looked away, so whoever or whatever ‘Hoshi’ was, it wasn’t him.
Kakyoin glanced upward. There were a few birds making themselves comfortable up there again, which explained why the girl had gotten over here to stare in the first place he realized. It was nothing. If Jotaro, after all, hadn’t been able to see him-
“Hoshi, bring me up now..!!!”
It was a quiet, but forceful demand, and a sudden shock entered him at the sound. Kakyoin found himself frozen- still staring upward, not looking away from the two birds as they turned their heads to the sound of something moving and abruptly tore off.
“Higher, Hoshi..!!”
That was even clearer. That was even closer. That was-
From right beside him, a small child beamed wide and spoke. “...Hello..!”
Kakyoin, finally unable to ignore things, turned.
And immediately, despite having no air in his lungs at all, choked as the sight of Star Platinum holding the child he’d so earlier dismissed met his eyes.
“KH- Kg-”
He couldn’t even get words out. He couldn’t even speak. If he had a heartbeat, if he had a heart, it would be hammering in his chest.
Star Platinum was watching him with narrowed eyes- as if the Stand itself did not want to be there in the slightest, while the child herself merely looked at him as if he were some grand thing.
“My name is, Kujo Suzume,” the girl was introducing, the words only serving to have Kakyoin stiffen more as she tried to bow.
It was a difficult thing to pull off, given that she was currently being supported in the air by two large hands as Star Platinum held her as close as physically possible. She seemed unconcerned by this, still smiling broadly as she continued.
“It’s nice to meet you..!”
The introduction was stiff. About as stiff as any small child given the lines to recite would sound no matter their actual mood, and painfully, he was reminded of his first day entering school as a preschool student.
(‘Now Noriaki, make sure your hands are at your side like this- and then we bow this way, and say..?’)
(‘Hello! My name is, Kakyoin Noriaki! It’s nice to meet you!’)
(‘Exactly~!’)
Kakyoin’s eyes stung. There weren't any tears (was it even possible for him to cry?), but they stung, and he slowly forced himself to reply.
Not with his name though.
“...Who…ARE you…?”
The pout that the child- Suzume- made in reply was honestly impressive.
“...you’re supposed to say ‘hello’ back…” In fact the frown actually deepened. “...I said my name…”
Kakyoin blinked.
And then blinked again. Not that he hadn’t heard the girl, but this was a little sudden for someone who expected another eternity of solitude. Rather than answer he instead backed away, eyes glued to the girl.
Kujo, his mind quietly reminded him. Kujo, Kujo, she’d said-
“...Kujo? …As in…” No. This was too much, he needed to focus- “...As in Jotaro Kujo…or perhaps…Holly Kujo..?” His voice was hesitant. It wasn’t anything he could likely be blamed for- even if he’d thought of it, and wondered it, the idea that life had indeed ‘moved on’ was a chilling one to be faced with.
Somehow this was the wrong answer, as the girl scowled even more angrily. “Haha. Is Haha,” she spat, the anger somehow clear as day despite the softness it was uttered with. Star Platinum, Kakyoin noted, looked down at the girl with tired amusement in reply.
Well. “So then you’re her daughter,” he murmured, interest gradually growing. Star Platinum was Jotaro’s stand. Holly Kujo was Jotaro’s mother. Was…no, that couldn’t be right, maybe this repeating of history was for some other reason? There hadn’t been any other changes to his knowledge though (or at least, it hadn’t felt…).
The fact was Kakyoin was at a severe disadvantage, even if he was unaware.
The living human brain had the biological sense to take its time when crushing another lifetime of memories onto a person; even the Stands of those affected were coaxing new users through the mess, lest their partners become shells of themselves.
Those beyond the realm of the living, who had yet the determination to remain through multiple instances of time, did not have this natural defense- and Kakyoin had no reason to so much as try to sift through decades for a single instant of time.
(Which in summation meant that trying to make sense of someone other than Jotaro with Jotaro’s Stand and Mother was not going well.)
Suzume, he noticed in his thoughts, was a bit red faced.
“If you’re going to keep calling Haha names…” she muttered quietly, tiny fists balled and shaking while she dangled in Star Platinum’s grip, “I’m going to give you one.”
…He shouldn’t be entertaining this, he thought idly. He shouldn’t. Shouldn’t…
But it was so damn lonely. Stuck here. With no one. Except for now?
(Who was she? Some reincarnation? It could’ve been long enough for that. Maybe it was farther than he thought in time, and this was some descendant. Or maybe it was another reality, earlier in time, his ghost clinging in wait of the inevitable. The school didn’t seem that different, after all.)
(....Either way, it would make this one…)
“Really?” he teased idly, crossing his arms and trying not to think about the way they covered his fatal injury as a result. What was the worst that could happen? What else was there? He’d regret this later when she never came back, he knew it, but right now? Kakyoin smiled, and though the motion was out of practice he couldn’t help hope it at least looked friendly. “And what could you call me?” Kakyoin chuckled, adjusting himself in the tree. “We just met~”
“Mister Donut.”
Kakyoin’s smile fell.
(Star Platinum, he noticed, actually Winced.)
“No,”
“You’re Mister Donut now, you have a donut hole…”
“No,” he repeated with a growl, and this time he even sat up and moved to hop out of the tree and away. His limit was small- he could reach as far as the closest wing of the school, and no higher than the Torii gate at the top of the steps- but he’d take advantage to get away from this. “You’re not using that.”
“...You keep calling Haha a different name…and…you won’t say yours…so…”
“Ora-oraaaaaaa-” he heard Star Platinum grumble, as if actual words would come out. In the same instance, Suzume was carefully lowered to the ground, the girl walking closer as Kakyoin reeled upon her.
“Because that is her name!” he hissed, a hand to his head. How long was it before kids learned that again? Why hadn’t she picked up on that one? “Her name isn’t actually ‘Haha’, that just means-! Gkh-”
Kakyoin choked mid-grumble, looking down to the child’s face. The girl was still scowling- a kind of determination he was far too unused to seeing, and with a face he could tell would grow to resemble his that much more. With major differences he was sure, but few differences enough to throw him now.
So the ghost growled and turned again, exhaling a useless breath slowly as he calmed down.
He was getting attached.
(He couldn’t risk that, not knowing the inevitable years, decades, and more, ahead. He couldn’t bear that, not like this, not as hollowed out and alone as he already was.)
“Just go,” he muttered, not turning around.
“....I told you my name though…” was the child’s whining and quiet protest, Kakyoin rolling his eyes in return. Was his cousin this irritating? He hadn’t thought so but maybe he was remembering her wrong. At this point Ryoko was a spec in a sea of nothing, and he hadn’t even mentioned her on the trip to Cairo besides.
(He hadn’t mentioned anything about himself, not really.)
(It was easier to focus on the present, all of them; talking about the past beyond casual, unrelated and impersonal anecdotes, stung enough that it was easier to let Polnareff do so on his own alongside Mr. Joestar and Avdol so that the grim reminder of why they’d left to begin with could never come, and talking about the future would have effectively been suicide. The present was easier.)
(The present was all they actually had.)
A growling sigh, and Kakyoin finally turned, sighing in exasperation while trying to ground himself. “...Kakyoin Noriaki,” he finally muttered, narrowing his eyes as a flash of familiarity came through the girl’s eyes. Suspicion was growing- enough that he found himself slowly approaching to stoop down and study the girl’s face more, wind passing through him and his injury all the same.
(He didn’t see the expression on Star Platinum’s face. He’d paid attention to the Stand when he was directly behind the girl, but right now with his focus on the child he may as well have been more of a ghost than he was.)
(‘Star Platinum’, unbeknownst to the ghost, somehow felt that to be a harsher blow than anything else thus far.)
Suzume was taking the name and nodding over it now. She seemed impressively pleased about something, if he could only identify what. And she was definitely related. Absolutely related, apparently having come down here on her own without any prompting…
…He was getting attached, he thought again, eyes unable to tear themselves away. That was no good, he realized coldly. She probably wasn’t even supposed to be down here, after all.
…even if she…seemed to recognize…
The girl threw her arms around him, and it felt like lightning shot through his spine. It didn’t hurt- but it left him gasping with enough shock that he pulled back, Suzume falling back to the ground with an audible ‘oof!’
“...ow…” She looked up accusingly, and Kakyoin for his part looked back down with all the terrified ferocity of a dog that had never been kindly touched in its life.
“Don’t,” he forced out, the words thick on the air. He could feel himself shudder, and where her arms had made contact it felt almost like he’d been burned. “Don’t touch me.”
“...you were sad…” was Suzume’s protest. “Hoshi gives hugs when Haha is sad…”
(Behind her, her Stand closed his eyes with the barest of winces.)
“I’m always ‘sad’,” the ghost snorted. “I’m dead.” At the confused and yet hurt stare, Kakyoin merely floated past and back up into the tree. This was pointless, he reasoned once more, absently rubbing at his arms. “Just leave; I can’t leave here anyway.”
He couldn’t get attached. It’d be worse than seeing Jotaro walk past his tree for most of the year and then disappearing forever after. He’d be conversing with a shadow of his friend and then see that shadow get extinguished, and then just wait forever more.
This time for a glimmer of hope that amounted to nothing.
Suzume almost said something. That was the feeling he had, at least. In the corner of his eye however, he could see her look up to her Stand instead before turning away in silence.
(He should say something. Make…make her come back, make her…)
Kakyoin said nothing.
He just sat in his tree and waited for eternity to continue.