[He's so tired sometimes. It's all such a fucking mess, and it shouldn't be. They killed the monster, and now they ought to all get to go home and live happily ever after-- except of course it didn't work out like that, not even at home. Kakyoin and Avdol fucking died trying to kill Dio, and never mind he was resurrected-- he still died, they still lost him. And all this shit is still going on, despite the fact by all rights it oughtn't. It just-- it never ends, no matter what they do. Maybe it never will end; maybe they'll all be dealing with this for the rest of their lives.

You're a lot of people's heroes, and he's so caught up in that he almost misses the end of it. Not just mine, and he glances over at Jotaro so fast he nearly hurts himself. And Jotaro--

God, he looks so tired. He's only eighteen, and yet he looks so much older right now, staring back up at Polnareff, ready to accept whatever's thrown his way. If Polnareff feels tired-- and he does, immensely so-- Jotaro must be exhausted.

He leans back against him, shoulder to shoulder, and offers his cigarette.]

You didn't tell me.

[A fact, plainly stated.]

But . . . not out of malice. Because it wasn't your secret to tell, not entirely. Because I would have fought Giorno if that was the first thing I'd known about him. And that wouldn't be fair, not to him or you or me.

[He shoots him another smile. It's stronger than the first, still cracked and exhausted and sad, but entirely genuine.]

Is there . . . you don't have to tell me specifics. But is there anything else left for me to find out?