[It was funny, really. Little gestures like this always reminded him of Jotaro now. Everyone he loved had their unique ways of loving back. Izabel worked to make him laugh. Jotaro distracted him with words or actions, or asked what he liked best in secret and then made it happen. Bruno was just there, a constant supportive presence, a good man, his family. Trish refused to give him any slack and rested her head on him and called him nicknames, and Mista was an extension of him, openly and unabashedly devoted in a way no one had ever been before, a way he'd earned.]
[But here Kakyoin was, in typical fashion, with a pincer attack: words not only clever and articulate but undeniably logical, and the ability to make beautiful, thoughtful things out of nothing. And once again, it seemed as though he hadn't really thought about it. It was so strange to think that someone like this didn't understand the depths of his own capacity for kindness, that he thought his only value was being valuable, rather than in some intrinsic rightness he possessed without any effort at all.]
[Giorno took the emerald between his fingers, turning it, inspecting it from all angles in the light streaming through the window. He wasn't shaking anymore. Just smiling.]
Thank you, Kakyoin. Very much. I always feel as though when I speak to you, I come away a thousand times more clear-headed.
Do you have any idea, though, how much you remind me of myself sometimes? It's uncanny. We're not the same, I know we're not, but - it took me so long to learn what I was and what I wanted to be, to leave uncertainty behind, for the most part at least. And sometimes it still seems like there's so much work left to do.
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[It was funny, really. Little gestures like this always reminded him of Jotaro now. Everyone he loved had their unique ways of loving back. Izabel worked to make him laugh. Jotaro distracted him with words or actions, or asked what he liked best in secret and then made it happen. Bruno was just there, a constant supportive presence, a good man, his family. Trish refused to give him any slack and rested her head on him and called him nicknames, and Mista was an extension of him, openly and unabashedly devoted in a way no one had ever been before, a way he'd earned.]
[But here Kakyoin was, in typical fashion, with a pincer attack: words not only clever and articulate but undeniably logical, and the ability to make beautiful, thoughtful things out of nothing. And once again, it seemed as though he hadn't really thought about it. It was so strange to think that someone like this didn't understand the depths of his own capacity for kindness, that he thought his only value was being valuable, rather than in some intrinsic rightness he possessed without any effort at all.]
[Giorno took the emerald between his fingers, turning it, inspecting it from all angles in the light streaming through the window. He wasn't shaking anymore. Just smiling.]
Thank you, Kakyoin. Very much. I always feel as though when I speak to you, I come away a thousand times more clear-headed.
Do you have any idea, though, how much you remind me of myself sometimes? It's uncanny. We're not the same, I know we're not, but - it took me so long to learn what I was and what I wanted to be, to leave uncertainty behind, for the most part at least. And sometimes it still seems like there's so much work left to do.