It was quiet between you and Jotaro. A quiet you've grown to get used to over the years of your friendship. It had been a few days after his return from the month of his sudden disappearance, and while you were no doubt overjoyed to see your childhood friend back, there was a noticeable change in him.

He looked drained. Dark, visible bags painted under his eyes. His movements slower and sluggish, which was unnatural for a guy like Jotaro. He seemed to have even lost a bit of muscle mass as well. It was starting to worry you greatly.

It was the weekend, and like normal, you were currently at Jotaro's house. You sat on the floor, resting your back on the edge of his bed as he layed atop of it, the sounds of the TV playing sounding muffled in the tension in the air.

The sudden interruption of coughing tore your attention from whatever was playing on the screen. You turn to see Jotaro, a handkerchief covering his mouth as his chest heaved with each heavy cough. "Shit..." he grumbled, clearing his throat as he folded the cloth to hide the blood covered flower petals from you.