Chapter Text
PART 1 - THE BROKEN BOY>
St Valentines was a school built by men who believed in the notion permanence was a virtue. The sort of men who envisioned themselves important enough to permanently taint the fecund landscape surrounding the school.
Centuries later, their arrogance undoubtedly remained.
The school rose from the countryside like an imposing force, its grey walls stretching above the surrounding woodlands, towers cutting into the overcast September sky. Ivy stretched across a large majority of the oldest buildings. The vastness of the grounds incomprehensible to the majority.
Johnny hated it. Or perhaps that doesn’t convey his true feelings, what he felt on his yearly return was closer to engulfing exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that seeps through a persons body and leaves them a shell of the person they once were making the most beautiful things appear burdensome. Though Johnny suspects he became a shell years ago.
Rain tapped softly against the window of the car as they approached the wrought iron gates. Johnny watched the academy emerge through the treeline. However he felt nothing. Not excitement, anticipation, or even dread. Simply a dull sense of inevitability.
Simply another school year would ensue, the only thing making this one slightly special was the knowledge that this was his last. However before that he would have to endure another year if well-meaning adults attempting to convince him life would continue.
Outside, students crossed the main courtyard carrying suitcases and sports bags. Parents unloading cars. The sound of laughter sifting through the grounds.
The feeling felt strangely distant. As thought he were simply observing.
This stemmed from the untimely realisation that a mere two years ago he would’ve been among the student populace.
Confident, the golden boy with an unwavering certainty of his position in the world.
Two years ago he was set to be the captain of the horse riding team, set to become the next professional jockey, set for life.
The thought almost made him laugh, instead he looked down at his legs. Everything felt tired now. His mind, his heart and especially his body. It even stretched to his name. Johnny Joestar. Once spoken by the others with the utmost admiration, now typically followed with pity.
The car rolled to a stop. For several moments he remained motionless. Watching rain slide slowly down the glass. Watching students disappear through the enormous archways. Watching life continue out of his reach. As he opened the door he was struck with the distant neigh of a horse from the stables. It arroused the sort of pain he no longer acknowledged. The sort he constantly carried with him.
The driver climbed out of the car and johnny knew what was to follow. The realisation irritated him before anything had happened. The driver rounded the vehicle, opened the door, then reached automatically toward the folded wheelchair secured beside the seat. Johnnys jaw involuntarily tightened.
“Careful there, Mr Joestar.”
The words were perfectly polite, harmless. Which somehow made johnnys skin crawl even more. The driver began unfolding the chair, then institinvtley offered an arm. Something ugly surged within Johnny. The old familiar humiliation that had become a constant in his life since the accident. The kind that emerged every time somebody looked at him and could only recognise fragility.
The drivers hand remained extended in an attempt to help. Johnny knew that. Yet the bitterness ensued anyway. “I can do it myself.” The words came out sharp enough that the driver froze immediately. Rain continued to drum softly against the car roof. The mans hand retreated. Johnny hated the look on his face. The embarrassment, although he’d accidentally touched a bruise. As though johnny were something damaged.
Without another word he grabbed the frame of the wheelchair. The movement was practised. Hands on the door frame. Shift the weight and turn. Calculated and memorised.
Two years ago he’d been able to mount a horse without thinking. Now transferring himself into a wheelchair required the utmost concentration. The juxtaposition would have been hilarious if it wasn’t himself. The process had taken fifteen perfectly ordinary seconds, yet by the end he was breathing harder than he wanted to admit. The driver pretended not to notice obvisouley.
Johnny allowed the driver to lift his suitcase from the boot, as despite his ego he was aware when something was out of his capabilities. Johnny knew the man was only trying to help, yet the apology for his hostility remained encased somewhere behind his teeth. This was a frequent pattern anyhow. Kindness was returned with anger.
The driver nodded once and handed him the suitcase. No fussing. And johnny appreciated that. The driver returned to the care with a simple “Have a good year, young Joestar.” And for the first time Johnny found himself alone. He considered clambering back into the car and refusing the entire ordeal. School, the year, the future. But johnny was aware the alternative was home, and St. valentines was a significant upragde.
Before he could begin the journey towards the entrance, a familiar voice beckoned across the courtyard.
“Joestar.”
Johnny looked up. Diego Brando was jogging through the rain without an umbrella. His golden blond hair damp. His tie slightly crooked, adorning a cheerful expression. “Late as usual joestar.”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Hello to you to.” Diego arrived beside him, breathing heavily. “Traffic?.”
“Procrastination.”
The familiarly settled between them immediately. Easy. Comfortable. Almost normal. Diego instinctively looked down at the suitcase, then reached for it. Johnny allowed him without protest. Why he did it confused most people, even himself at times. He hated being helped. Despised it even. Yet somehow Diego operated outside of johnnys typical laws. Always had, always will.
Johnnys conclusion was simple. Johnny had truly known johnny before the accident. Before the wheelchair. Before everyone stated speaking softer around him. Before grief engulfed his personality. Not a mere schoolmate, or a girl who had adored him. Truly known him. Diego remembered the version of johnny who was unbearable. Arrogant, cocky and ridiculously competitive. Which meant Diego ever treated him differently.
Their relationship begun when Diego arrived in America at eleven years old. Alone, with very little money but an undeniable talent for riding horses. Johnnys parents had chosen to sponsor the young boy through a riding programme. Johnny initially believed that this was gesture of generosity that George joestar underwent to present Diego himself as a sort of charitable achievement. The kind of gesture that looked excellent in newspapers. But for johnny, since the moment they met, He’d simply been Diego. The ridiculously talented jockey, who was ambitious and possessed an immense need to prove himself. Exactly the type of person johnny would get along with.
The truth was that nobody had expected johnny and Diego to Become friends. At first Johnny thought Diego was rude. Diego thought Johnny was spoiled. Both assessments undeniably accurate. The friendship began were both were trapped in a ballroom full of adults who wanted to speak to other adults. One of the countless charity functions George joestar attended. Diego had spent the first hour being paraded around like a prize horse as the future champion. After the realisation from the both of them that they both enjoyed this as little as each other they spent the remainder of the evening together. Not because they partucalry liked each other. Rather they were equally bored. For the first time they found somebody who understood each other.
After Diego and Johnny spent their first year together at St. Valentines, Diego had become a permanent fixture at the Joestar estate. Every holiday, every riding competition, every summer. And somewhere along the way George joestar must have realised he had given Johnny a second parent in crime. Their adolescence had happened side by side and neither of the boys could exactly remember when Diego stopped being a guest.
Nostalgia was a coping mechanism Johnny heavily relied on recently. Seeing Diego always provided him with that.
“I just went to the accommodation office.” He offered Johnny a dismissive wave. “Apparently they wanted to put some first years in there. But don’t worry we have the same as last year.”
After his accident the school was keen to provide Johnny with the most accessible room in their dorm building. This year apparently not so much. His explaination settled deeply somewhere in Johnnys chest. Not because it was a particularly grand gesture. Rather as it wasn’t. Diego acted as if it was something obvious. And since his accident people split johnny into two categories, people who treated johnny like he was fragile and people who simply ignored him out of fear of insensitivity. Neither felt good. While Diego occupied a middle ground of acknowledging without making johnny feel like a burden.
For a brief moment they moved in a comfortable silence. Rain still drifting across the ancient stone. Johnny didn’t know how to thank Diego. So he didn’t. Just registered the gesture.
The domirtory hadnd changed. Diego pushed the door open with his shoulder and immediate dropped johnnys suitcase on the floor.
”elegant.”
Diego ignored him.
The room itself was small by the acadmays standards. Two beds. Two desks. Two wardrobes. A shared bathroom. Johnny knew every inch of the room after spending a year in it. The previous year johnnys depressive episodes often overwhelmed him so much he would end up spending days on end cooped up within.
Diego collapsed backwards onto his bed, without removing his shoes. A crime. While Diego dedicated himself to avoiding responsibilities, johnny unpacked.
He observed students passing by his window. Carrying boxes and bags. Life returning. Another year. Nine more months. Eventually Diego sat upright.
“You ready then?”
“For what.”
“The year dumbass.”
The question hung in the air. Johnny considered it and responded with the only plausible answer. “No.”
And that was that. No encouragement. No lecture. No insistence that things would improve. Simply understanding.
It had reached about 6pm and a bell rang. Deep and resonant. Dinner. Diego stood and simply stated “Food.” As if johnny wasn’t aware.
The corridors began filling with students. Friend groups reuniting. Conversations overlapping. The academy felt awake.
It felt oddly foreign. Two years ago normal had vanished from his life. Now it occasiaonley returned in bried moments like this. Walking to dinner, arguing with Diego and listening to other students complain.
The dining hall stood ahead. Diego was already halfway through the doors. Predictably. Johnny lingered behind. Only for a moment. A large mirror hung beside the entrance. One of the various ancient objects the school was adorned with.
His reflection caught his eye. The boy staring back already looked exhausted. Not physically, but the sort of tiredness sleep wouldn’t resolve. His blond hair cut just as it always was, relatively short on the sides with a few strands hanging over his forhead. His uniform was immaculate. Objectively speaking his face hadn’t changed all that much. Girls had prevuisuley told him so over the years. Before. The word automatically surfaced. Always before. He studied his reflection. Soft nose, blue eyes, a scattering of freckles across his nose. The only difference was his eyes looked significantly more empty. The difference was harder to explain. The old johnny occupied space like he owned it. Now simply a version of that left behind. His eyes drifted to the chair. He simply couldn’t see himself as good looking anymore.
Without another glance, he turned and rolled through the doors.