Work Text:
“Now, if you’ll open your textbooks, you’ll be able to find a diagram on page 190…”
Blinking languidly, your eyes move from the bleak February landscape on the other side of the window to the equally-bleak classroom you’re situated in.
With a quiet sigh, you slide your fingers across the pages of the closed textbook in front of you, attempting to open it to the correct page on the first try. A flick of your wrist, and…
284.
You sigh less quietly as you flip backwards and when the diagram finally appears, you begin the hunt for a sheet of clean paper. Rummaging through the bookbag on the floor next to you, you sigh for a third and final time when the contents reveal nothing but your lunch, a few writing utensils, and a small box wrapped in iridescent paper. Your stomach begins to knot at the sight of the box, but you shake it off quickly, criticizing yourself.
You remembered to bring the chocolate, but you completely forgot your schoolwork. Excellent.
Biting your lip and turning back to your desk, a gentle chuckle sounds to your right before a piece of paper is held out to you.
“Kakyoin?”
Whispering under the drone of the teacher, you glance at your friend, who smiles softly at you when you take the sheet of paper with a grateful look.
“Forgive me for prying,” he begins, dropping his eyes to your bag, “but would I be able to guess who those are for?” His hand, now free, points to the shiny box hanging slightly out of the opening.
You purse your lips when you feel your stomach knot again. Kakyoin’s soft smile turns conspiratorial, and he turns back towards the front of the room before hiding it casually behind his hand.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” he says quietly, pretending to immerse himself in the lecture.
After another moment of silence, you date the top of your paper -- the 14th -- and look straight down at it as you respond.
“I decided I would try, at least,” you say as you begin to bite your lip. “It’s almost funny that I imagined every scenario except the one where he doesn’t even show up.”
Kakyoin shifts his gaze to you, a sympathetic look in his eyes.
“You could always go to his house after school. Miss Holly would be thrilled to see you as well, I’m sure.”
You shake your head, grimacing before you respond.
“If he doesn't show up I’m just going to forget about it. If he hates Valentine’s Day enough to skip school it probably wouldn't be my best idea to try to force him to participate.”
Kakyoin shrugs, returning his attention to the front of the room when the teacher looks meaningfully towards you. A few moments later, he leans back in and whispers again.
“It’s up to you, but I really think you should. You’ll just continue to make excuses until --”
His sentence is cut off by the door being opened abruptly, and the atmosphere of the room shifts with equal force.
“K-Kujo!” your teacher exclaims, shocked by the sudden entry. With a pained sigh, Jotaro enters the room to the collective whispering of twelve female students. His eyes scan the room, landing on yours -- you blink a few times before smiling tentatively. His already stony expression changes into something between a grimace and a glare, and your stomach drops to the floor.
“W-well, just have a seat. Everyone, please calm down,” the teacher urges, his glasses beginning to slip almost comically down his nose.
Jotaro remains silent as he sits down at the desk to your left. Kakyoin shoots him a chiding look, but it’s ignored as he props his feet up on the desk in front of him, leans back, and pulls the brim of his hat over his eyes.
“It seems you can’t ‘just forget about it’ after all," Kakyoin says near-silently, a mixture of sympathy and mirth coloring his words.
You plaster a mind-numbingly sweet smile onto your face and raise your eyebrows at him until he gives you a sheepish look.
Ignoring the quiet “yare yare” that’s muttered to your left, you pretend to return your attention to your textbook as you surreptitiously shove the box of chocolates deeper into your bag with your foot.
You may or may not have begun to dislike this holiday.
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Stepping out into the hallway, you shove your way through the flock of girls at the door. You fail to keep yourself from swearing loudly when you’re elbowed in the ribs as one of the girls launches forward to push a red-ribboned box into Jotaro’s face.
Jotaro’s face, incidentally, is the absolute picture of fury, and you make it a point to powerwalk down the hallway when you realize this. Kakyoin managed to escape a few minutes before class ended, and is currently nowhere to be found -- a fact you recall bitterly as you begin to climb the stairs to the third floor.
Your steps halt halfway up as a shout echoes through the hall.
“Oi! Get the fuck out of my way!”
Predictably, there is silence for about three seconds after Jotaro’s outburst, followed by the traditional collective sigh of the female student body.
You bite your lip and make your way to the roof.
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“It’s warm for February,” you remark to yourself, leaning against the chain-link barrier around the roof of the school.
Though the landscape is barren and brown, the sun is comforting enough to calm you, and you regain some of your appetite as you gaze at the cloudless sky.
Pulling your lunch out of your bag, you make a conscious effort to forget Jotaro’s sour mood. You’d known his distaste for Valentine’s Day well ahead of time, but you hadn’t really considered how deeply the hatred ran.
You’re struck by the cliche of it all as you push a slice of fruit past your lips. You remove the chocolate from your bag and run your fingers over the iridescent wrapping paper. What kind of color is ‘transparent’, anyway? you had thought to yourself, but since the chocolates came out beautifully, the see-through quality of the packaging didn't hurt.
Not knowing what Jotaro preferred, you had made an assortment. Candied orange peels were dipped in milk, dark, and white chocolate, and in addition to a few painstakingly-created truffles, you’d placed a few cookies into the lower portion of the container.
With a sigh, you realize you’re probably going to end up eating them yourself. That, or you could give them to Kakyoin, but you were sure he’d have plenty by the end of the day.
Tossing the box back into your bag, you shove a few more slices of fruit in your mouth before opening up a bottle of tea. With a shake of your head, you look back out over the horizon and eat the rest of your meal in silence.
“Is Kakyoin not here?”
You whip your head around with a start, nearly choking on your tea.
Jotaro is standing behind you, dropping at least five brightly-decorated boxes to his feet and brushing off his jacket.
“Was one sudden entrance not enough for you? And no,” you shift away from the scenery as Jotaro pulls a cigarette from his pocket, “He isn’t. One of you could’ve warned me about the stampede, though,” you frown as you rub your side, where you had been elbowed.
Jotaro pauses, his lighter halfway to his mouth.
“Did they hurt you?”
The tone in his voice is a hair below dangerous, but you brush it off as him finding another reason to be annoyed.
“No, Jotaro. It was an accident,” you reply, finishing your sentence with another sip of tea.
He lights his cigarette, looking at you until you meet his eyes. When you finally do, he steps forward hastily, looking out over the schoolyard.
Watching him, you gather yourself before speaking.
“Are you angry with me or something?”
He turns back to you, suddenly, eyes wide. Seeing your soft expression and your bottom lip caught between your teeth, his eyes narrow.
“Tch. Should I be?”
You recoil at his tone, squinting as if you misunderstood.
“W-what?”
He looks at you with a glare and you shrink further.
After a few moments you inhale as if to speak again, but when his attention turns toward you even slightly, you let out the air in a sigh. Silence between Jotaro and yourself is usually comfortable, and whenever you do chat with him (albeit onesidedly), he never seems to mind, occasionally favoring you with a slight smile. This time, however, his jaw is clenched tightly, the muscles in his cheek twitching as he turns to lean his head against the barrier next to you.
The muffled sound of a bell rings back inside of the school, another thing to interrupt your thoughts in today’s long list.
You stand, packing your empty lunchbox into your bag, along with your tea.
“I have art with Kakyoin. Did you have something you want me to tell him?” you ask, tossing the question over your shoulder as you begin making your way to the door.
Jotaro doesn't respond. You click your tongue in annoyance, reaching out for the door handle.
“Hey.”
You turn to face him, clenching the door handle when your stomach knots as his eyes meet yours.
“...Yes?” you urge after a few moments of silence.
He finishes his cigarette and puts it out on the ground before tossing it off of the building.
“If you want any of those,” Jotaro points to the gifts littering the ground, “Go ahead. I don’t even like chocolate.”
You process this before exhaling sharply and opening the door. It takes every ounce of your self-control not to slam it behind you.
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“I’m almost certain I've seen him eat chocolate before,” Kakyoin muses, his voice a low tenor over the insistent scratch of charcoal that fills the room. Staring at the sketchboard in front of you, you draw twisting, winding shapes, with no particular design in mind.
“I don’t think it really matters,” you say after a long while. “I felt kind of bad when I saw how swamped he was. Why did he even come?”
Kakyoin ponders your question for a moment before responding.
“I’d say Miss Holly forced him, if I had to guess.”
You pull your hand away from the canvas with a sigh, disappointed in your absentminded work.
“Does he just dislike romantic stuff in general?”
Kakyoin doesn't respond, but he pauses his drawing for a moment to look at you, encouraging you to continue.
“I know he cares about a lot of things -- I mean, we all went through Egypt for a reason, right? But even when I feel like I can see some side to him that’s more vulnerable or emotional, he closes up or I convince myself it wasn’t there.”
You reach into your bag for your tea, taking a few sips as you gather your thoughts.
“I’m afraid that I’ll tell him how I feel and he’ll start brushing me off like the ridiculous girls that follow him around.”
“(Name),” Kakyoin says gently, “You and I both know he’d never just brush you off.”
“I tried to smile at him this morning and he actually looked offended.”
With a sigh, Kakyoin places his hand on your shoulder. His lips tug upwards -- not quite a smile, but a comforting expression nonetheless. You almost smile back at him before a sudden blur behind him catches your eye -- the door to the art room opens slowly.
Three for three, Jotaro enters the room unannounced, a scowl twisting his mouth. Kakyoin’s hand lifts from your shoulder, hovering beside your arm as he turns to face your mutual friend.
“Jotaro? What are you doing here?” He asks as soon as the dark-haired student is within earshot.
“They found me on the roof. Needed to get away,” Jotaro huffs, grabbing a stool and dropping it down next to you.
No one seems to have noticed the intrusion, as you and Kakyoin are seated towards the back of the classroom, and the art teacher is busy guiding another student through a drawing of the shoreline. You grimace at the knots and swirls covering your sketchpad before abruptly flipping to a clean page.
“Well, make yourself at home,” Kakyoin says after clearing his throat. He touches your shoulder once more before picking up his charcoal and continuing to sketch. You follow suit, beginning to sketch the outline of a girl towards the front of the classroom. Jotaro watches you, his gaze unnerving.
“How did they manage to find you up there?” You ask noncommittally. The girl you’re sketching pulls her long hair over her shoulder and you begin to fill in the outline, drawing the folds of her sweater and skirt.
“Does it matter?” He snaps, pulling his hat over his eyes.
You look at him and your hand falters. A thick black line appears where the girl’s arm should be, and you close your eyes as you run your fingers through your hair in agitation.
You hear Jotaro mumble something that almost sounds like "sorry", but you aren't in the mood to ask him to repeat himself. He probably wouldn't answer anyway.
Settling on a different question, you turn to face him fully.
“Why are you here?”
He tilts his chin, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression.
“I just told you,” he says, misinterpreting you.
“No,” you begin again, “Why are you here? Why are you in school today if you’re just going to be rude to the only people who aren’t harassing you?”
His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to speak.
“I-....”
After a few moments, he closes his mouth again, clenching his jaw tightly and furrowing his eyebrows.
You shake your head as you finally understand what you’re feeling
This is how it was when you’d first met him. Guarded and disinterested.
It stings to be reduced to it again.
“If your mother forced you to go, you could've just gone somewhere else and said you were here. I understand that it’s stressful to have so many beautiful girls adore you, but I feel like it’s about to be taken out on me,” you say as you flip the cover over your sketchpad. “I don’t think I can handle it today.”
Kakyoin gives you a worried look as you pick up your bag, shoving your hand into it as you stand. You feel like your stomach and legs are turning to ice, but you’d might as well do this while the adrenaline is there.
You pull out the iridescent box, pressing it into Jotaro’s chest and growing even more frustrated when you feel your cheeks grow hot in spite of yourself.
“I wasn't going to give this to you after realizing how much you hate chocolate and Valentine’s Day in general, but if it hurts your feelings, consider us even.”
Turning on your heel, you leave the classroom, making your way down the hallway and towards the nurse’s office.
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The sky is still cloudless as you wander the streets, passing by stores with doors open, trying to let some of the uncharacteristically warm air into the buildings. Birds sing somewhere nearby, and the chatter of the people in the stores and apartments around you seems equally beautiful in the early evening air. Stopping by a small convenience store, you purchase your favourite drink and a small meal, placing them in your bag before making your way to the park.
When you arrive, you sit on one of the swings, pushing off gently. The gravel you disturbed settles as you open your drink and take a sip. Despite the weather being warm, the sun still sets early in the evening -- you've been out for a few hours, and the sky is beginning to look like a watercolor painting. Cotton candy fades into bright orange, and remembering the chocolates you created, you forget your appetite and lean your head on the one of the chains of the swing.
A few moments pass as you let your thoughts fade, and your eyelids fall softly for a moment as you breathe deeply.
A hand appears on your shoulder.
You jump forward, and the swing, holding you up, manages to tangle you just enough so that you fall face first into the gravel at your feet. Swearing, you brush off as you turn to none other than Jotaro Kujo, appearing out of the fucking blue for the fourth time today.
“What about not startling people do you not understand today?” You shout, wiping blood from your lip before drawing it into your mouth with a glare.
Jotaro reaches his hand out to you before faltering and pulling it back, adjusting his hat nervously.
“I-...Sorry,” he stutters. “I tried not to scare you this time.” He moves closer before reaching his hand out to you again, gently tilting your chin up towards him and swiping softly at your lip with his thumb. He moves as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. Your face flushes instantly, and you pull back slightly. He pulls his hand away.
“Sorry,” he says again, clenching his jaw.
You shake your head, pushing your hair out of your eyes.
The sun dips further below the horizon, and the park glows with the light.
“Listen--”
“Do you want--”
You and Jotaro begin speaking at the same time, and the stupidity of the entire situation makes you laugh out loud. Jotaro stares at you, his eyes wide.
“I’m sorry. You can talk,” you say as you look back at him, calming yourself.
He continues staring at you, his expression changing at least four times, stopping and starting to speak before sighing angrily and tearing his hat off of his head. He runs a hand through his hair, glancing off to your right, and you scold yourself internally when your jaw loosens at the sight of his profile in the sunset.
“I came for you.”
You jolt back into reality when he speaks, tilting your head in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
Jotaro looks at you, glaring.
“I came to school for you. I was hoping…”
You remain silent, eyes widening.
“I was hoping you would confess to me,” he continues, the glare on his face deepening, “And I got frustrated when you didn't. And when I saw you so close to Kakyoin all day. The girls didn't find me on the roof. I just…”
His jaw clenches.
“Jotaro…”
Your voice is barely above a whisper, and he looks at you with his eyebrows impossibly furrowed.
“Do you glare when you get embarrassed?”
You would've thought that he couldn't have looked angrier, but he does, if only for a moment. Then he runs his hand through his hair again, eyebrows twitching until his expression is softer.
“Y-yeah. I guess.”
You hold back the urge to laugh again, covering your mouth.
“Also, wait a minute--” you start, looking at him incredulously, “You didn't even give me a chance to tell you! I saw you all of once, and when we were alone, you were a fucking asshole.”
Jotaro grunts, turning around rapidly and beginning to walk away.
“Hey!”
You take a few steps forward, reaching out to grab his arm, and he turns back to you, moving to lace his arm around your waist, hat still in hand. His free hand finds your cheek and tilts it up once more, your eyes meeting his and his lips a breath from yours.
“Did you give me those because you like me?” He asks, barely audible.
You flush again, heart in your throat, and you’re only able to nod once before he presses his lips to yours roughly and presses you back against the support beam of the swing set.
Unfortunately this earns a shout from you as your lip begins to bleed again, and he pulls away, eyes darting over your face.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. You shake your head softly and rest your hand on his wrist. Something unidentifiable flashes behind his eyes before he kisses you again with a gentleness you would've thought impossible, his thumb moving gently along the side of your face. His lips envelop yours and everything is almost unbearably warm as your eyes close, leaning into his hand. Jotaro's arm trembles at your waist, and he holds you tighter and tighter until it stops.
After a long moment, he pulls away again, looking worriedly at your bleeding lip, to your eyes, and back to your lip again before kissing the wound, the side of your mouth, your cheek, your brow.
He brings his hand down from your face and brings both of his hands to your waist, nestling his forehead between your neck and shoulder with a shaky exhale. Slowly, you move your arms to his shoulders, embracing him with one and running your hand through his hair with another. He shivers at this and inhales before pulling away, spinning you around and lifting you into the air as he walks toward a swing.
“Jotaro--” you protest at first, but soon you’re pulled into his lap as he sits on the swing, and the remainder of your sentence dissolves in your throat.
He rests his chin on your shoulder.
The sun dips further in the sky.
Leaning into him, you can feel his face burning against your neck, and you turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye.
“Are you blushing? Your face is burning u--”
You tumble unceremoniously back onto the gravel as Jotaro stands abruptly before swearing loudly and apologizing. Unharmed, you laugh loudly as he panics, crouching down to help you stand and brushing the rocks and sand from your uniform.
“You are a fucking disaster, Jotaro,” you say kindheartedly, trying to quiet your laughter.
Jotaro glares at you. This time you’re relatively sure it’s not a nervous glare, but he pulls you back into his lap regardless, winding his arms tightly around your waist and returning his chin to your shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, Jotaro’s solid arms pull you closer as the sun begins to disappear, painting the sky a brilliant red.
You remain there, swinging gently back and forth, until stars begin to appear in the night sky above you.
“So,” you say softly, “do you still hate Valentine’s Day?”
Jotaro responds with a kiss to your neck, plopping his hat down on your head.
“Yes.”