[He isn't expecting that to feel so . . . good. He isn't expecting anything, really, although he was vaguely apprehensive about being told it's weird again. A positive reaction would be pushing the bounds of Polnareff's adaptability, he would have thought. He would have.]
[But.]
[Polnareff says he likes it a lot, and that makes him go still and blink a little bit because . . . he likes it a lot. And that's the truth, right now, the complete and objective truth.]
[It makes him feel warm. It makes him feel safe. It makes him want to carefully hang the skirt back up in his closet and cross the floor to kneel in front of Polnareff and take his face in his hands and kiss his forehead.]
[So that's what he does. His smile is soft and a little shy, but full of affection.]
Well, no. I'm not going to be a dick about it. Like-- I mean, what, if Kakyoin goes in skirts too and Jotaro doesn't know, I'm gonna bet Kakyoin's nervous about it. Right? So I'm not going to be an asshole and be the one to tell him.
[There's that warm safe feeling again. He curls up again, relaxing, his head tucked under Polnareff's chin; after a moment's consideration, he reaches for Polnareff's hand as well and laces their fingers together.]
Well, it's not like that exactly. It's more that . . . Kakyoin reminds me of myself sometimes. A lot of times. So I got him some shoes at Christmas, and he didn't yell at me, so I was thinking of making him a dress.
[I got him something and he didn't yell at me. That's their Kakyoin all right, expressing approval in the best of ways. Polnareff settles in-- they're getting quite comfortable sitting like this, he and Giorno; pretty soon he's going to always want his small son to be sitting against him, just so he can rest his chin somewhere.]
If anybody's gonna look good in them, it'll be him, the guy's like ninety percent leg.
[A beat, and then:]
What kind of shoes? I'm assuming green featured in them. Or cherries. Or green shoes with cherries on them, that seems like his ideal shoe.
[HE IS SO DEEPLY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT THE FACT THAT POLNAREFF AGREES WITH HIM. He wiggles his feet a little, toes curling.]
Umm, two pairs, with short heels. Both shades of green. One was just pretty simple and one was sort of . . . It had cutouts along the sides, almost like a sandal?
[For a moment he's quiet, and then he makes a wordless, thoughtful sound.]
Sometimes he's sad, I think, and feels . . . disconnected? Because of lots of things, and I know he has scars that he doesn't want anyone to see. And we're not the same person obviously, but if it might make him feel more confident then I'm not going to not offer. And besides, I like making things and giving people things, so.
[In answer to Giorno's assessment of Kakyion. Polnareff frowns at the wall for a moment.]
I want to help him a lot of the time, you know? I didn't know half that shit about his parents or his feeling like an outsider or even-- just, all that shit, I never knew it while we were going across the continent. And I want to help, and I don't know how, because him and me-- if you two are alike, we're just the opposite. I like the guy, but we're pretty much night and day. I don't mind telling him he's great, because he is or that he's not weird, because he's not, and I'm just about ready to--
Anyway. My point is, I hope that works. Even if it's a little, I hope it helps him.
[It wasn't a real question, but the answer comes anyway.]
And . . . I mean, mostly he just acts like it doesn't matter. Or he'll shrug it off, tell me that I'm missing the point, or-- whatever. And it's not like that's easily fixed, I can't just go in and do something for him and that's that.
Kakyoin, he has everything he needs inside himself already. It's just a matter of convincing him it's there. I tried for the longest time to get him to listen to me, to believe in how magnificent he is. What worked in the end was—
[He cocks his head up at Polnareff, a glint of mischief in his eyes.]
Back when people first started disappearing, months before you got here, when Mista left and Abbacchio and Narancia and Fugo. Kakyoin was trying to make me feel better, you know, and I didn't want him to, and we . . . didn't argue really, just it was more combative than usual, I suppose. And we ended up falling into this competition, who can compliment the other best. If it's a competition, he always puts in his all.
That's what I've found that works. But you didn't hear it from me.
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[He isn't expecting that to feel so . . . good. He isn't expecting anything, really, although he was vaguely apprehensive about being told it's weird again. A positive reaction would be pushing the bounds of Polnareff's adaptability, he would have thought. He would have.]
[But.]
[Polnareff says he likes it a lot, and that makes him go still and blink a little bit because . . . he likes it a lot. And that's the truth, right now, the complete and objective truth.]
[It makes him feel warm. It makes him feel safe. It makes him want to carefully hang the skirt back up in his closet and cross the floor to kneel in front of Polnareff and take his face in his hands and kiss his forehead.]
[So that's what he does. His smile is soft and a little shy, but full of affection.]
I love you a lot. So there.
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[He grins back at him-- love is far easier to navigate, after all, and Giorno is so easy to love. And he loves this, he really does, but--]
So.
Kakyoin.
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No no no! No, Papa, no, you can't keep a secret, so I can't tell you!
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[SQUINTS]
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[agonized pouting . . . don't make him Tell]
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I won't if you tell me not to! If I know it's a secret, I'll be sure not to tell anyone!
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[Seems fake.]
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[There's that warm safe feeling again. He curls up again, relaxing, his head tucked under Polnareff's chin; after a moment's consideration, he reaches for Polnareff's hand as well and laces their fingers together.]
Well, it's not like that exactly. It's more that . . . Kakyoin reminds me of myself sometimes. A lot of times. So I got him some shoes at Christmas, and he didn't yell at me, so I was thinking of making him a dress.
no subject
If anybody's gonna look good in them, it'll be him, the guy's like ninety percent leg.
[A beat, and then:]
What kind of shoes? I'm assuming green featured in them. Or cherries. Or green shoes with cherries on them, that seems like his ideal shoe.
no subject
[HE IS SO DEEPLY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT THE FACT THAT POLNAREFF AGREES WITH HIM. He wiggles his feet a little, toes curling.]
Umm, two pairs, with short heels. Both shades of green. One was just pretty simple and one was sort of . . . It had cutouts along the sides, almost like a sandal?
[For a moment he's quiet, and then he makes a wordless, thoughtful sound.]
Sometimes he's sad, I think, and feels . . . disconnected? Because of lots of things, and I know he has scars that he doesn't want anyone to see. And we're not the same person obviously, but if it might make him feel more confident then I'm not going to not offer. And besides, I like making things and giving people things, so.
no subject
[In answer to Giorno's assessment of Kakyion. Polnareff frowns at the wall for a moment.]
I want to help him a lot of the time, you know? I didn't know half that shit about his parents or his feeling like an outsider or even-- just, all that shit, I never knew it while we were going across the continent. And I want to help, and I don't know how, because him and me-- if you two are alike, we're just the opposite. I like the guy, but we're pretty much night and day. I don't mind telling him he's great, because he is or that he's not weird, because he's not, and I'm just about ready to--
Anyway. My point is, I hope that works. Even if it's a little, I hope it helps him.
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[It's quite rhetorical. He knows the answer.]
Mm, does he do that thing with you, where you say something nice and he makes up some reason why it can't be true or doesn't matter?
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[It wasn't a real question, but the answer comes anyway.]
And . . . I mean, mostly he just acts like it doesn't matter. Or he'll shrug it off, tell me that I'm missing the point, or-- whatever. And it's not like that's easily fixed, I can't just go in and do something for him and that's that.
no subject
Kakyoin, he has everything he needs inside himself already. It's just a matter of convincing him it's there. I tried for the longest time to get him to listen to me, to believe in how magnificent he is. What worked in the end was—
[He cocks his head up at Polnareff, a glint of mischief in his eyes.]
Back when people first started disappearing, months before you got here, when Mista left and Abbacchio and Narancia and Fugo. Kakyoin was trying to make me feel better, you know, and I didn't want him to, and we . . . didn't argue really, just it was more combative than usual, I suppose. And we ended up falling into this competition, who can compliment the other best. If it's a competition, he always puts in his all.
That's what I've found that works. But you didn't hear it from me.
1/2
[He has never been more proud of his small son.]
Shit, that's perfect! Now I just have to figure out a way to get him into that kind of competition-- ahh, but that'll be--
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--probably hard, actually, I can't just go up to him and start aggressively telling him he's great. I mean, I could, but he'd get suspicious.