Being so low to the ground, one of the first things Polnareff saw were the shoes of the fallen Buccellati. Based on the miserable expressions worn by the teenagers huddled around the body, he could guess what had happened. "Is he…?" A pause. "I'm so sorry." Polnareff said softly.
"We should call the police. The hospital! We can't just leave Buccellati and Narancia here," Trish said now that Polnareff returned their attention back to the bodies of their fallen friends. Multiple police sirens could be heard passing the Colosseum.
"Imagine all the reports the police are handling due to all the people Green Day killed. Not to mention however many people called claiming they'd switched bodies with someone," Mista said quietly while listening to the passing sirens. The entire city was suffering. The teens' grief was not unique.
"Narancia mentioned wanting to go back home before he died. He wanted to go back to school. I promised I'd bring him home," Giorno said.
Mista sighed sadly. "Well, we can't just pack their bodies inside Polnareff (sorry, Pol), drop them off on their families' doorsteps, ring the doorbell, and run. If we stay to express our condolences, their families will ask questions we won't be able to answer. It's best to call emergency personnel here at ground zero. Buccellati and Narancia will be seen as two extra victims among the multiple tragedies inflicted on civilians today."
Giorno bowed his head, his brow furrowed. They all went into this fight acknowledging the high probability of their own deaths but Giorno hadn't expected so many innocent people getting caught in the crossfire.
Mista continued, "This way we can ensure they'll arrive safely with their families without arising too much suspicion. I can give the police general details on where Narancia's family lives and where Bruno's mom still lives. I don't know their exact addresses, but - "
"I have that information on my laptop," Polnareff said.
Mista raised his eyebrows. "Really? You have that kind of information on us? Damn, hackers are scary."
"I'll call the police," Trish offered as she turned to leave. "You three stay here and… look after them."
"No, I'll go." Mista insisted. "You can feel your dad's presence, right? Stay here and make sure that second personality of his isn't still floating around somewhere."
Mista took off running toward the payphone down the street while Giorno stooped to pick up Coco Jumbo and walked a few paces away. Standing so close to Buccellati was becoming unbearable. He wondered if they should clean the blood off him in respect or would that be tampering with the crime scene? Trish also stepped away, though she seemed to be eyeing Buccellati's body with fear now.
"You look stressed. Do you detect something?" Giorno asked Trish, noticing the way her shoulders tightened and how her lips pressed together into a thin line ever since Mista mentioned her dad.
"He's right, I can still feel my father's presence," Trish said stiffly. "Even now. Will he ever go away? Will I always feel this tightening in my chest and this panic that makes me want to scream? What if I feel his presence looming over me for the rest of my life? What if, when he possessed me, he left a piece of himself behind? He had two personalities… why not three?" Trish bitterly laughed as she looked around at the empty Colosseum, half expecting to see a bright pink head peering over some rubble. She wanted to run away. Run away from her father's presence, from the dead bodies of her friends, and from the reality of her mother's death. Maybe all of them could run away somewhere into the mountains. Get a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere by a lake. Have a garden, fish for food, and she could stay in bed for hours each day and cry over what she's lost for the next two weeks. "How do we really know my father has been defeated for good?"
"Like I told Mista when he asked how I could tell how many souls were in one body: Life energy exists as clusters." Giorno placed a hand on Trish's shoulder. "There's no one else in there with you. You're free from your father."
He dropped his hand and Trish sighed in relief, but she still looked worried.
Giorno thought maybe she could benefit from a more thorough explanation. "I don't fully understand it, but while Gold Experience Requiem was striking Diavolo, I felt his life energy vanish. It was strange. It didn't flicker out all at once. Otherwise I'd suspect he used King Crimson to trick us with another time skip. It took a second or two to fade away, but it eventually left. I saw his body still standing there, still alive, but there was no soul inside. Yet you can still feel him. He lives, but he doesn't at the same time. Polnareff said Requiem Stands can control life. I want to understand this more. I want to experiment on myself, but having more variables would be beneficial. Trish, would you like to try using the arrow on your Stand?"
Trish's eyes widened. She certainly was curious but she had some reservations. What if her Stand went berzerk like Polnareff's? "I don't know. Maybe. But it looks painful."
"It is." Then Giorno quickly added after realizing how bad that sounded, "It's ok if you don't want to. I want to ask Mista, too. I understand, we don't have a lot of data on this and don't even know if it's fully safe."
Polnareff had been watching the two and piped up. "Making your Stand prick its finger on the arrow like mine did is a start. You don't have to stab yourself in the face or chest," he chuckled. "I can appreciate the dramatic flair during times of distress, but none of that was necessary. I don't think it would be any danger to you, Trish." Polnareff was also curious about the arrow's capabilities and wanted to provide the Speedwagon Foundation with as much information as possible. He was still debating whether it would be safer to destroy the arrow in case it ever fell into the hands of evil men.
Mista returned, jogging back to the group. "The police are really busy," he huffed, catching his breath. "but they're on their way. Looks like we've got some time on our hands until then." He looked between his three comrades. Giorno was holding Coco Jumbo and Trish stood nearby, looking off into the distance in thought. "No one bothered to fetch Polnareff's laptop?" Mista grumbled something about having to do everything himself as he walked past them. Trish surprised herself by almost giggling.
"What are you two going to do after the police arrive?" Trish asked after Mista returned. She thought about her silly fantasy cabin in the woods, wondering if any of them had any pipe dreams or family to return to.
"Well…," Mista spoke first, "When the Boss rose to power, he did something no one else was able to accomplish: unite most of the mafia from all over Italy into one organized group. I thought Buccellati was going to become the new Boss, but…. well..., " Mista paused to rub his nose and sniff. He had to compose himself before continuing. "Before Diavolo took over, the mafia were just different criminal groups that shared the same code of conduct. Broken into families, they each claimed different territories. There was the Sicilian Mafia, the groups who started it all. The one I have my eye on is the Camorra which had its capital in Naples, where Passione operates. I know Naples and Passione best, so I'm going back there to help keep that group united. In the past, the Camorra were strong because they were designed not to be ruled by one person. In the 70s and 80s, some dude tried to unify the Camorra by forming Nuova Camorra Organizzata, but it failed. Because there were so many families which had equal power, even if one Don was sent to prison or killed, there'd be a dozen more to keep things moving. But I have something none of those Dons ever had: a Stand. The system completely changed once The Boss took over and started handing out Stands to nobodies like me. I'd like to scope out the competition and find out how many Stand users are still surviving in Passione." Mista turned toward Giorno. "You and me, we could lead them together."
Giorno raised his brows. He wasn't expecting this.
"The Sicilian Mafia, the Calabrian, and Sacra Corona can figure out what to do among themselves. We can focus on Naples. Keep them united. Without us, things will probably go back to how they were in the past. Naturally, since I'm the oldest, have more experience, and know more inside information about how the mafia works than you do, I'll be the leader and will be calling the shots. But no matter how lucky of a guy I am, I'm gonna need some backup from a smart guy like you. What do you say?"
It was a nice offer, but Giorno had bigger plans. He paused to consider how to respond.
"What?" Mista balked. "What's with that look? Do you not want to?" He sighed. "I understand, you've only been with us a week and after everything that happened, I get it if you want to be a normal kid again. To go back to Middle School or High School or wherever it is you go. If you want that, that's cool. We'll still keep in touch, though, yeah?"
Giorno decided to ease them both into this. "When you decided to get on the boat, you told Buccellati that after we overthrew the Boss, you wanted to become an officer. You told me you thought Buccellati knew where the Boss's hidden stash was, that we were going to be rich. You asked me if the money was the reason why I chose to be on that boat. Money was never my goal."
Mista wasn't sure where this was going. "… ok? But the whole point of the Mafia is to make money! The organization comes first, comes before even God, even before your blood family. Sure, Buccellati was more soft-hearted so the organization never came first for him, and we all liked and respected that, but let's not delude ourselves. When it comes down to it, the mafia is about making a living."
"You thought Buccellati would be the new Boss who would promote you, but that was never possible. Buccellati never had plans to replace the Boss. Instead, he was helping me. I'm the one who will be replacing The Boss. When that happens, I will promote you and you will be paid handsomely."
There was silence except for ambulance and police sirens speeding by the Colosseum.
"WHAT!" Mista's voice seemed to echo off the crumbling architecture.
Trish was stunned. She looked away in thought, realizing she'd been projecting her own feelings onto the group. She thought they all wanted out of the mafia and that's why they changed their minds about doing her father's bidding, instead deciding to betray and destroy him. She thought they wanted to be safe from him, cut their ties, and live normal lives away from all the violence, just like she did. Instead both of them wanted to be involved even deeper than ever, vying for top leadership positions. She looked over at Polnareff, who had been studying the two carefully for a long time now. He did not look pleased.
"Once I've established my new position, my first order of business is to clean up the mess The Boss has made." Giorno spoke thoughtfully as if brainstorming his new checklist on the spot. "Rome is especially damaged. It's uncertain how many civilians as well as mafia operatives have died after Cioccolata's Green Day attack. The city is going to be feeling the results of that attack for many years."
"You're 15 years old! What the fuck!" Mista didn't seem to be listening. "You were the newest recruit! Didn't Buccellati pick you up off the street like a little lost puppy, like he did for all of us?"
"My next order of business after that is shutting down the parts of the drug trade that sells to minors." Giorno continued, ignoring Mista's protests. "That's been my main goal for a while now. It was something Buccellati was passionate about, too." Giorno added the last part quietly. "I've also heard terrible stories of crime groups in Naples beginning to deal in human trafficking. They sell young women and girls to buyers overseas. I'd like to investigate and put a stop to that as well."
"Do you even know enough about the mafia to run it? To shut down entire sections of its economy and get away with it? You were with us a week, how much can you know?" Mista didn't know what to think. On one hand, Giorno was just a kid. On the other hand, this kid did just punch the old Boss out of existence. Maybe. What even happened back there? Mista's head hurt.
"Buccellati explained the basics to me, but I'm fully aware how inexperienced and ignorant I am compared to someone who has been in the gang for much longer. Compared to someone like you. Fill me in on the gaps in my knowledge and I'll make you my underboss. Why settle for a lower position in Naples when you can be my second in command?"
Mista blinked.
"Hell YES! We'll take it!" Number 7 shouted while jumping out of Mista's pistol. Mista shushed it and angrily swatted it away. Suddenly, all six of Mista's pistols were buzzing around his head, shouting different things. "You wanna work under some kid?" "He saved us, he defeated The Boss, give him a chance." "He's no Buccellati." "Is anyone else really hungry for some pizza right now?"
Giorno turned to Trish and Polnareff, giving Mista some time to think. "What about you? Will you join me? I'm doing what I believe is just, but I could use help. Polnareff is an expert hacker and investigator who knows more about Diavolo than anyone else. Trish, you're the ex-Boss's daughter and with your Stand, you're incredibly powerful. People will respect you." He said this as if no one will want to respect Trish, but they will be forced to once she knocks some heads around. Trish didn't know how to feel about this. Giorno continued, "It's your decision. It may be very dangerous. I have no idea how many Stand users remain and who will oppose me. How many will come looking for revenge for what we did this morning. Many will try to fill the power vacuum we've created today and I know I'm not going to be a popular replacement for The Boss once everyone gets a look at me. But they will change their minds."
Polnareff and Trish exchanged glances.
Polnareff wasn't sure if he was watching the rise of someone who did desire to clean up the criminal underground, or if he had a front row view of a new tyrant about to latch onto power. But he thought about how quickly Giorno handed back the arrow when Polnareff requested it. There was no hesitation. Polnareff had already explained that once his Stand let go of the Arrow, all of his great power would disappear. Gold Experience was back to its original, weaker state and Giorno wasn't itching to regain the power again. In fact, Giorno even wanted to give the power to his friends, even if it was only to study the arrow's effects. Polnareff wanted to believe the kid, but he'd also been tricked by another blond Stand user in the past who also desired power. Polnareff decided to get closer to Giorno and keep an eye on him. He'd also need to contact the Speedwagon Foundation now that the threat of Diavolo was no longer looming over his head. He was free to come out of hiding and the benefit of inside information about Diavolo's organization would be invaluable. "I will help you," Polnareff said. "I'm just a ghost inside a turtle, but I'll do my best. I'd also like to get to know the people who defeated the one who killed me," Polnareff said. His upper body was sticking out of the key's jewel on the turtle's back and he looked down at his permanent home with a thoughtful frown.
Giorno visibly relaxed, exhaled a long breath, and held a small smile. He hadn't been sure if any of them would be willing to further risk their lives or if any of them would be willing to see him as a leader, but now he had the man who gave them the means to defeat The Boss. It was good to have even one comrade. "Thank you. Without you, we never would have won. I owe you a lot."
Trish didn't think she'd ever seen Giorno smile before. Maybe he was capable of expressing positive human emotion after all. Most of what she saw him express was stern seriousness, anger, pain, or dread. This helped calm her now that it was her time to make a decision, but it also made her feel guilty about leaving them. "I want to go back home. Right after mom died, I was taken away by dad's men. I… I wasn't even able to help with mom's funeral arrangements. I need to go back right away. I need to be at her funeral." Trish bit her trembling lip and looked down at her hands which were tightly gripping her skirt. "I need to visit her grave. Only after that can I afford to think about the future."
"I'm really sorry," Giorno said delicately. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
Trish considered the offer then suddenly looked sheepish. "Could either of you help me buy a ticket back home? I don't have any money on me. I'll pay you back."
"Of course we'll lend you some money!" Mista said as returned. "The both of us will be swimming in dough soon, now that my dude Giorno is gonna be Boss. A plane ticket is no problem!"
Now Giorno was properly smiling. "Mista, does this mean...?"
Mista stepped back, chuckled, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I thought about it, and… you said Buccellati supported you. That he didn't want to be Boss, but you did. I was surprised because I thought it was the opposite this entire time, but it makes sense. You were some random guy no one knew but Buccellati always seemed particularly concerned and protective over you. Don't get me wrong, he cared about us all, but like, on the plane when most of us were injured, he was especially upset and worried about you. Also, Buccellati didn't even ask you if you wanted to get on that boat. I thought it was weird he already knew your answer without asking. Buccellati also complied when you told him to give us an explanation for why he was betraying the Boss, even though it was obvious he didn't want to. Abbacchio was damn pissed about that! He thought you were always overstepping your bounds, telling people what to do, and acting like you didn't know your place. Abbacchio also said you'd vaguely talk about some dream of yours and Buccellati looked at you like you had sunshine blowing out your ass. All that makes sense if what you're saying is right. If Buccellati supported you, then I will too. Besides, you've saved my ass several times now, you've proven yourself by landing the final blow to The Boss, and I want to stay around as a reminder that you never could have done it on your own."
Giorno chuckled. "Of course. Thank you, Mista." The comment 'If Buccellati supported you, then I will too' made Giorno wonder if Mista was simply displaying his loyalty to Buccellati and not to Giorno. This could be Mista's way of completing Buccellati's final mission and Giorno was simply a teammate to help complete said mission. Would Mista really be ok with the more inexperienced Giorno leading him? For now, Giorno was just happy Mista was still on his side. After all, he wasn't the Boss just yet.
Trish smiled, happy to see the two boys getting along again. "Thank you so much for helping me. Not just with the plane ticket. With… everything. I owe you a lot and you've lost a lot because of me and my father."
"Trish, it's not your fault," Giorno said sadly.
Trish shook her head. "I know, it was all my father's fault. But everyone protected me with their lives, I still can't help feel somewhat responsible for what happened." Trish looked back at Buccellati and the wall where Narancia lay behind. That's when Giorno noticed a pair of police officers entering the Colosseum.
Trish quietly cried as Mista "recounted" a story to the police where the five of them hid in the Colosseum during the chaos on the streets.
"People were screaming about swapping bodies, we thought the whole world had gone mad!" Mista's acting was only enhanced by the real tears Trish shed.
Giorno had quickly turned Mista's gun into a bright yellow rose when they saw the police coming, which Mista was now waving around wildly as he told his tale. Giono stayed silent, staring at the ground while holding Coco Jumbo tightly to his chest. Mista told the cops their group split up only for a few minutes to scope out the surroundings. Upon meeting back up again, they found the bodies of their two friends.
"Maybe the mafia got them? Or robbers or murderers taking advantage of the chaos?" Trish cried.
The police didn't ask many questions. They were already overworked and understaffed, dealing with last night's killer mold attack and the body switching epidemic that apparently everyone "just got better" from. Two dead bodies that looked to have died from gunshot wounds and whatever else "normal" thing Narancia died from were the least jarring things they'd seen all day. The police quickly took down some notes, Mista told them the home addresses of their friends, and an ambulance was waiting to take the bodies to a hospital to confirm the cause of death. Trish kissed both Bruno and Narancia on their foreheads before they were zipped up in body bags and carried away on stretchers. Mista kept a stiff upper lip, but still wiped tears off his cheeks. Giorno stared at the ground, his emotions trying to rise out of him but were instead trapped somewhere heavily in his chest, unable to move.
They all agreed to visit their graves later and say their final goodbyes.
Rome was placed under quarantine due to the killer mold as well as the mass hallucination experienced earlier that morning. The body count was still unknown. Investigations were trying to piece the two events together while deciding whether the phenomenon was over and if it was contagious. City officials had all roads blocked off around all sections of the city which had known to be infected within a several mile radius, with the exception for emergency personnel. Giorno, Trish, Mista, and Polnareff were able to sneak outside the quarantine zone thanks to Coco Jumbo's ability to be a small, inconspicuous turtle that could crawl around barricades unnoticed.
Once outside the quarantine zone, they stole a car and headed to the nearest airport.
Flying was the fastest and most economical way for Trish to return home to the island of Sardinia. Giorno and Mista stayed with her until her plane was ready to board. Trish scooted Coco Jumbo off her lap where it was eating the lettuce from a sandwich Mista bought for her. She had been looking much more relaxed since leaving the city, no longer able to feel her father's presence. She handed the turtle back to Giorno.
"Thank you," she told the boys, smiling through her sorrow. She hated to see them go. "You two saved my life and have treated me with nothing but professionalism and respect since the first day we met."
Mista was smiling but internally he grimaced, thinking about the time he ogled her boobs when she leaned over to adjust her boots soon after she first joined them. And he blurt out so many embarrassing things when Fugo accidentally fell into her lap. He also wasn't sure if she was still upset from when he tried adjusting her uncomfortably tight underwear when they swapped bodies. But yeah, other than that, nothing but respect.
"You've saved our lives, too." Giorno answered. "I would either be dead or permanently crippled if you hadn't saved us on the plane. We would never have found what we were searching for if not for the information you gave us," Giorno kept the details vague due to them speaking in a public place. "You're part of our team."
Polnareff peered out of the key, mostly hidden by Giorno's arm, and slipped him a piece of paper with a number written on it. "Trish, call us if you ever need anything," Polnareff said. "We've decided to go back to my place to regroup. That is the phone number to my apartment."
Giorno handed Trish the number and Trish traded back her own piece of paper she had prepared earlier while inside the turtle. "Here's mine. It's our… the number to my home." Trish faltered, remembering her mother no longer lived with her.
"Do you have family back home? You won't be alone, will you?" Mista asked.
Trish bit her lip. "Um. Oh, yeah, my grandparents live not too far away. Please don't worry about me," she lied. She just wanted to get home as fast as she could without any fuss. She could tell them the truth later.
They all quietly looked at each other before Trish stepped forward to give the two a hug. Polnareff included, if Coco Jumbo being squashed between Giorno and Trish counted.
"Ciao! Thank you! I'll see you!" she said as she turned to go.
"You better come visit us!" Mista called back. "Remember, we gotta see our friends at the cemetery later!"
"I will be there!"
And with that, she was gone.
"She better keep in touch." Mista said as they later watched her plane take off from the large airport windows. "Me and her, we shared a bond, swapping bodies and all. You know, running in heeled boots isn't nearly as hard as it looks once you get used to it."
"It's good she can return to a normal life," Giorno said. "There's been a lot of damage in the wake of our battles. I'm glad one of us made it out safely."
"Would you ever want to go back to a normal life?" Mista asked.
Giorno paused before responding. "No. I have a purpose where I am now. There is nothing waiting for me back home."
"I agree! I don't even know how I could live a normal life again after joining the gang. Experiences like ours changes a person," Mista twirled a yellow flower between his fingers. Giorno had again transformed his gun into a rose to get through airport security.
Suddenly, Giorno felt something akin to a small current of electricity as the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. There was a sudden jolt as if a force caused him to slide backwards, but he found himself still standing where he should be. The only difference was the turtle Giorno was carrying was gone. "Ah. Polnareff… ?!" Giorno called out in shock as he looked down at his empty hands and the empty floor.
