It took a while for him to understand, until the dust had gone and settled following the Kira Incident. In fact, it took his third monthly call with his father for Josuke to hear the story in full. The phone bill would be sky high that month, but he had no qualms of sending it the old man’s way. Nor did he mind the hours it took, hearing how it all began, hearing what his father had endured, and the responsibilities laid upon the Joestar bloodline; it was worth it.
“I never knew Jonathan, obviously,” Joseph laughed weakly as the morning sun was beginning to rise in Morioh and setting in New York, “But I’m glad he is still here.”
“Hasn’t he been dead for like a century?” Josuke knew the family was complicated but even through a tired daze he was fairly certain he remembered who Jonathan was.
Joseph continued on as if he hadn’t heard, and given his age perhaps he hadn’t, “I remember my Granny Erina would talk about him all the time. She said he was outrageously kind and just, strong and brave, the most worthy of men. I knew by the time I was a teen that I was no such man, I doubt Jotaro would call himself that. I’m glad to know part of him has lived on.”
It took Josuke a moment to realize, but when he did it took all of his force to swallow back the tears, “Thanks—”
He paused for just a moment before adding, for the first time, “—Dad.”
The call was finished shortly thereafter, emotion audible on both ends as they hung up. And even though the sunrise was in its full colorful splendor as he looked outside, Josuke could swear he saw a star still shining.