digiorno | ic inbox ( ruby city ) Ⅰ

That's right. That's exactly right.

[His voice is muffled against Jotaro's sleeve. It's safe here, he knows. There are two fewer safe spaces in the city now, but Jotaro is still here.]

For Narancia especially . . . for Fugo. For Bruno, too, even if he doesn't think he needs that. They need me.

[And you need him, he finishes in his head, watching all the pieces fall into place and ultimately deciding that it'd be kinder not to voice it when it's something they both already know. And he's not here.]

When everybody leans on you from different sides...it's worse than falling over, because you're still standing but no one's holding you up. You're just caught between all of them.

[And he's not here. And Trish isn't, either. And it might have been fine if he'd never been here at all, but after this - all this time, all the comfort he'd forgotten and then remembered again - after that, it's really not fine at all.]

I know you . . . know what that is. What it's like. So I don't want to complain.

I think the fact that I know is the reason why you can complain.

[He hesitates again.]

...I don't want you to be surrounded by people and still alone. It's because I know how it feels that I don't want that for you.

. . . Well, what--

[Pause, breathe, in, out; he's trying, god, he's trying.]

What good does it do, anyway? It doesn't change anything.

It changes...something. Maybe just not what you'd think. Or what you want. That's the part that's frustrating, and hurts.

[It's Star's turn to reach out now, unfolding and shifting slightly, extending ghostly purple fingers in search of Giorno's arm to provide support from his free side as well.]

I don't know if I can put it into words. But it changes something when someone understands, even if they can't do anything about it.

[He doesn't know if he believes that. He doesn't know if he can say it out loud without breaking into pieces and not being able to put himself back together. But he does reach out and take Star's hand in his own; he holds on too tightly, maybe, squeezing until the pressure makes him feel real and present.]

Sometimes it feels like it was easier when everyone just ignored me and hated me. It wasn't - I never felt like I'd lost anything.

...Yeah. Because you're strong, then. You get hard and brittle, and nothing touches you.

Happiness feels like weakness, because it's just something that'll hurt you if it's taken away. Nothing to take, no way to get hurt.

Mmhm. When I knew nothing I ever did would make a difference, it didn't . . . matter.

[But he made a difference to Mista, and now - and he'd be disappointed to know Giorno is upset over him, and he wouldn't want it, and so he's trying so hard not to be, but all the holding it in in the world doesn't seem to be helping.]

...

[He breathes in slowly.]

That's just a different way of killing yourself, isn't it...?

[Oh.]

Maybe it is . . . ? Except instead of stopping, just . . . never starting?

Yeah. Either way, the outcome is...

[...]

You can't grab your heart and make it hold still until it stops hurting, Giorno.

[He shudders, head to toe, and squeezes Star's hand hard.]

So what do I . . . ?

[The sensation is pronounced, even filtered down through the distant connection he has with his Stand; his own hand hums with phantom pressure that makes him want to wiggle his fingers against it, even as he stays steady against Giorno's shudder.]

...Try just letting yourself miss him.

Let me worry about keeping your head above water for now.

That's too much . . .

[But no, that's Jotaro's choice, isn't it? What he takes on, that's his choice. He can't make choices for his friends. That's wrong.]

[It feels like his mind is slowing down, the deeper he sinks into this.]

I told you, didn't I? I'm not a good person without him.

Does it scare you? The thought of not being a good person.

[Star's free hand moves, coasting lightly over Giorno's back in slow, wide circles.]

You want to be, but you can't without him?

Yes.

[He answers immediately. Yes, yes it does, more than anything in the world, that's the scariest thought there is.]

I'm scared of myself. Who I am. Who I would have been, if things had been different.

...I don't know if it's right to judge yourself on who you could have been. I know it's tempting to. I know I'm guilty of it.

[He knows there are people, ones not present in this bathroom, who've told him things like power is just power, it's what you do with it that matters and can you hold him accountable for things he hasn't done yet.

This isn't a new question, who do I have the potential to be. It's one that gets bigger and scarier when you have a hard time answering who am I, right now.]

Are you scared to change, because you're afraid it'll be for the worse?

[This one takes a little longer to answer. He's still trying, though, struggling in his silence; the gears are grinding almost audibly in his head.]

Yes.

I might have been the best I could be already. If I lose something important to me, or someone that important, maybe I'll fall. Or maybe I'm already falling and I don't even know I am.

I shouldn't put so much weight in maybes. I know that.

...Kakyoin fell down once and never forgave himself for it. He didn't know how to make me stay, didn't understand it. So he tried to be useful, but he also...he tried to take a knife to every part of himself that he thought was weak, and cut it out and throw it away. That's what makes sense to him, how he tries to be strong.

[He hadn't understood it at first, either, or at least had only understood it as isolated pieces, never knowing they added up to a full puzzle. Giorno had, because Giorno...had perspective, could see things like that in people. He wouldn't have seen it without that help.]

What happens if you fall? If you've been your best, and then you fall...then what happens?

Bruno hurts.

[The first thing. And then he turns his face away, finally, and looks down at Jolie again.]

Narancia hurts. Izabel hurts. A lot of hurt. And if I'm at home when it happens, more people than that.

...And you'd rather die than see one more person get hurt.

[The words come out distant and hollow, like an echo of a sentiment he understands all too well.]

That first night, when we met. Remember? I pulled Kakyoin behind me.

Do you think that's how it is for them, too?

I don't know. Maybe.

If it is, I have to stop. Don't I? Except it seems impossible.

You don't have to do anything.

[Because...it's not about having to, right? Because have to, that's always easier, but in the end it's just more weight, one more thing to carry. This is...]

Do you want to stop? What...do you want?

I want . . .

[Something. Something, probably. Surely he wants something.]

I want it to be last week.

. . . I want things I can't have. I don't know. I want him back. I want to stop wanting things.

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