"So this boy is the one you've chosen?"
"Yes, he is. Interesting case, isn't he?"
"Hehe... you could say that. Especially since he is one of my own."
"And yet he holds none of your characteristics."
"He's still a boy. It's often said that children become like their fathers when they grow up, despite their best wishes."
"I disagree."
"Oh no, what a shock."
"He also holds that family's blood, and holds something akin to their morals. He has the potential to represent the best of humanity."
"Or the worst of it."
"Yes, but that potential is what makes him an ideal candidate."
"Never took you for the type that wanted to retire. I thought you enjoyed these little games of ours."
"Unfortunately when your time grows short, beggars cannot be choosers."
April 9th, 2016:
A young man's eyes blearily opened his eyes while his smartphone's alarm went off. His left hand reached behind him and hit on the screen, causing it to shut off. He yawned and stretched his arms before rubbing his eyes. "I need coffee..." With that, he stood up and shambled out of his room and into the bathroom. He ignored the articles of women's clothing on the floor as he went to the sink and splashed water on his face. Then, he looked into the mirror and muttered out, "What were those voices...?"
The young man was of relatively normal height, 174 centimeters, and slim of frame. His body held little muscle but no fat either. His eyes were a clear blue, and his moderate-length hair was a golden blonde.
Which was rare, considering where he lived currently.
The young man then opened the mirror to take out a comb and hair gel, and brought the comb to his head. Within a few moments, the young man stylized the front to resemble three distinctive swirls or tortellini shapes hanging over his forehead. The hair in the back was now tied in a short, braided tail. He then walked back to his room, spartan and devoid of much possessions save for an espresso machine on his work desk with a map of the country of Italy hanging from the wall behind it. He opened his closet to reveal several outfits, each of them ironed and pressed. He took one out that resembled a school uniform. A white shirt with a long collar that had an arrow pointing down, a black jacket with red buttons and the symbol for his school on the left breast area, and a pair of black pants that had red and white bars creating a design akin to a cage on them. And on the bottom, finely polished black Gucci-brand dress shoes.
This young man's name was Haruno Shiobana.
However, he preferred to go by his Italian name, Giorno Giovanna.
Giorno quickly put on the uniform and added his of additions. He opened the top buttons of his jacket, parting it so that it may make the shape of a heart while pinning down the edges to his shirt with tiny metal red-colored pins. He then reached to his shoulders and clipped on slightly large ladybug pins, also colored red but had chrome replacing the black. Satisfied with himself, Giorno put on his shoes before glancing at the clock. "I still have time." Giorno then proceeded to make his bed. He then exited his room while grabbing his school bag by the door, slinging it over his shoulder as he closed the door. He walked down a small flight of stairs, and his nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. He glanced at the living room. He saw a woman well reaching the end of her thirties laying on the couch, a sleeveless top and a short skirt wrinkled while a beer bottle was held in her hand as she snored.
This was Giorno's mother, Yui Shiobana.
"Partying again..." Giorno muttered darkly before he exited the apartment. He rarely said farewell to his mother, partly because she did not particularly care where he went. The last time she held any interest in his decisions was when he had insisted on keeping his name as 'Giorno Giovanna', and that was mostly because his grandparents argued with her about how he held no pride in his Japanese heritage.
Which was partially true. Giorno saw himself as Italian, not Japanese.
It did not matter that his home had changed.
Giorno gazed at the outside of his apartment at the Yongen-Jaya of Tokyo, the streets barely occupied save for a few adults on their way to work and elderly folk.
Giorno had lived in Naples, Italy for a long time until recently. The reason why he had lived in Italy was due to his mother marrying his (now former) stepfather, who would regularly beat Giorno while his mother was out partying. Giorno held no love for the man, but his mother divorcing him held some inconveniences. For one thing, Giorno was annoyed that all it took for his mother to divorce the man was him getting drunk one night and causing so much of a scene that his mother's partying friends talked ill of her. The other was that Giorno had lived in Italy for so long that moving to Japan, his mother's home country, did not appeal to him.
Third... it made his dream all the harder to obtain.
"I miss the smell of the sea." Cities were not exactly Giorno's ideal environment, but he had long since gotten used to the stench of Tokyo. He glanced at the abandoned movie theater that was just in front of his apartment building. A shame that it was not working. From what his neighbors told him, the theater used to play old movies every Friday night. Giorno had an appreciation for classic films. So much thought put into them, little tricks that helped to sell the scene rather than bathing it in CGI.
Giorno went down the steps and walked down the street, the residents paying him little mind besides the occasional glance at his hair. Just a year ago, when he had moved to this country, they would not stop gaping at him. Now he was just part of the scenery.
It was amazing how fast humans adapted.
He made a sharp turn to the left just after the batting cages and spotted just a bit down the alleyway to the left was Cafe Leblanc.
And thankfully for Giorno's morning, the sign read OPEN.
Smirking to himself, Giorno entered the cafe with the ringing of a bell marking his entrance. Behind the counter was a middle-aged man with slicked-back dark hair that had a receding hairline, as well as a chinstrap beard with a goatee that flared out. He wore a pink dress shirt that went up to his elbows, a black striped apron with white vertical lines and two buttons at the top, and khaki capris.
His name was Sojiro Sakura.
He was the only person who could brew coffee worth a damn in Japan, in Giorno's honest opinion.
Sojiro's brown eyes glanced at him as he said, "Ah, it's you."
"Am I your first customer for today, Sakura-san?" Manners were important. Giorno always made it a priority to be as polite as possible to anyone he meets. Politeness helped to show respect, and Giorno was nothing if not respectful.
"Have been since you moved here." As Sojiro said that, Giorno took a seat by the counter. "Will you be having the usual kid?"
"Yes, and an Anpan if you have any."
"Tch. You should make your own breakfast kid. Or at least order the curry. That'll fill you right up."
Giorno chuckled and raised his hand. "I apologize Sakura-san, but I'm afraid I do not have the stomach for something so heavy in the morning."
Sojiro grunted as he went to the coffee pots. As he began to make the coffee, Giorno thought quietly about his past. About his dream.
At the age of six, Giorno had experienced numerous beatings from his former stepfather. They were the result of the man hating how Giorno always tried to study and read him with his eyes. Unknown to the man, Giorno started doing that because of said beatings. Giorno's quiet and demure nature made him the target for bullies, and Giorno had begun to feel as if he were unneeded trash.
Giorno could not help but feel that if it weren't for that man, Giorno would have become twisted. A thug who lived to try and make the world pay for what it had did to him.
While walking down the street he always took to get home, Giorno spotted a man lying behind a wall with blood everywhere. Giorno saw that he was suffering gun wounds, and didn't know if he was dead or alive. At that moment, several men came out running looking for someone. Even Giorno could tell that they were looking for the injured man, and eventually they walked towards him. They asked him if he saw someone run anywhere...
"He ran that way." Giorno pointed to the direction away from the wall.
Giorno told the first lie of his life that day.
He was not scared at all. Giorno was a child back then, and childlike reasoning told him that this man was just like him. Someone without any friends, someone who was lonely and deserved to have someone care for him. When they left, Giorno went to a pay phone and called an ambulance for the man and left without another word.
Two months later, the man showed himself to Giorno again. He had survived his plight, and remember all that Giorno did for him. He said one sentence to Giorno:
"I will never forget what you did for me."
He never said why he suffered those gunshots.
Soon, Giorno's stepfather stopped beating him. His mother started to give him a bigger allowance. The bullies stopped harassing him and even began giving him some money. Even the kids of a sold-out movie theater would reserve a seat just for Giorno.
It did not take long for Giorno to discover why.
The man he had saved... was a gangster. Possibly the head of the local family.
The man watched over Giorno from afar. He was grateful for the second chance Giorno gave to him, and repaid him in any way he could. To Giorno, it was the first time he was ever given any respect and treated like a human being.
Looking back at it, Giorno found it amusing that he learned about kindness and trust from a silent stranger than from his mother or stepfather.
It was because of that gangster's kindness, that display that someone who broke the law could become something positive in a person's life, and Giorno found his calling.
He would be a GangStar!
"And I would have helped Naples eventually, if we would not have moved." Giorno thought sourly before shaking his head. No, he had spent far too long keeping control over his emotions. It has been a year. He should have gotten over this.
Still, Naples was in dire need of help from when he last saw it. Gangs, drugs, corruption... all of it was apparent in that city. It needed a guiding hand.
"Well, such is life. Not everything goes according to plan."
"Here you go." Giorno was brought back to reality by Sojiro's gruff voice. Placed in front of him in a mug was his coffee, black and steaming, while to the right in a small white plate was an anpan with several seeds on top. "What's up with you kid? Usually you try to say more before you get all quiet."
Giorno shook his head as he said, "I thought you preferred silence."
Sojiro simply scoffed. "Come on, I'm not that anti-social."
"It's nothing Sakura-san. I'm simply thinking." Giorno then took the mug and brought it to his lips. Giorno loved Sojiro's coffee. He could taste the smooth yet earthy bean flavor while also feeling none of the acidity. The sugar in the coffee was just enough so that Giorno had a hint of the flavor, but it did not overtake the taste of the coffee.
Truly, a perfect start to the day.
Giorno then took a bite of his anpan while his ears caught some of the news. "...and the train derailment killed so far three people and injured five others. We will continue updating you as the story develops."
"Another one..." Giorno muttered out while setting down his treat and taking another sip of coffee.
There were simply too many accidents nowadays.
Giorno liked to take it as a reminder that not all of society's ills would be solved when he achieved his dream.
It kept him humble.
After ten minutes Giorno finished his coffee and anpan, gave Sojiro the payment, and left for school.
Education was important, after all.
xxXXxx
"Giorno-kun! It's lunchtime! Why don't you come with me?"
"No way, he should sit by me in the cafeteria!"
"I-I put in too much food in my bento box! P-Perhaps you would like to share it with me Giorno-kun?"
"...Wow. You really went for that cliche?"
"That's enough." Giorno said with a small smile as he held out his hand. "I enjoy being alone, so please go away."
"Okay!" The small group of several female first and second-year Shujin Academy students said in unison with smiles on their faces before they walked off. Giorno could hear maybe one or two of them gush over how he talked to them specifically.
Giorno gave a small sigh as he walked down the steps. He knew he was popular among the female population of the school. But he would have thought that, by now, they would have gotten the message that he was not interested. "Perhaps they simply do not want to give up on a seemingly impossible task. Admirable, in a way. But very annoying."
Some of his classmates asked him how on Earth he could still be single despite numerous girls giving hints of their attraction to him.
Giorno responded with "I'm simply not interested."
"Shiobana!"
Giorno frowned as he reached the bottom of the steps and turned to the left. He walked down the hallway, away from the origin of the voice.
"Shiobana!"
"I can cut through the courtyard and reach the cafeteria from there." Giorno thought to himself as he continued to walk. "I hope my water is still warm... I hate having to use the thermos but the tap water here is horrendous and I refuse to use a microwave to warm it up."
A hand then gripped his shoulder with a strength that caused Giorno's eyes to furrow. He stopped in place and turned around before asking, "Can I help you, Kamoshida-sensei?"
Suguru Kamoshida was someone who would intimidate most people. Standing at 177.3 centimeters, he had clearly defined muscles that his white t-shirt seemed to accentuate his figure. He also wore black sweat pants with white stripes going down the sides as well as white and black sneakers. A red whistle hung from his neck. His hair was a long and messy black, and his chin was long. His brown eyes stared down into Giorno's blue.
He gave a smile as he said, "Now, what was with that cold shoulder Shiobana? I was calling out for you quite loudly back there."
Giorno simply bowed and said, "My apologies. I had assumed you were calling out to another Shiobana." He looked up and made his voice only an octave more stern. "I am, after all, having most of the students and teachers refer to me as Giovanna."
Kamoshida simply chuckled and said, "Come on Shiobana, I am a teacher and what kind of teacher would I be if I didn't refer to my student by his actual name."
Giorno kept his temper in check and simply said, "Is there something you wanted from me, Kamoshida-sensei?"
"Well, now that you ask..." Kamoshida lost his smirk, and his face became much more serious. "You wouldn't have heard anything strange come from Tsubaki Harudori, have you?"
"..." Giorno kept his face neutral as he said, "No, I have not."
"Ah, but she has been hanging around you a lot lately. Seems to have taken a shine to you, like all the other girls."
"..." Yes, Harudori was a shy member of his 'fan club' as some of the males in the school referred to it. Short in stature and seemed to try to fade into the background. She looked at him with the expression that he was something mysterious, something free.
She was a member of the female volleyball team.
She also always had bruises and injuries on her body.
"I do not speak to her often." Giorno replied evenly. "I like to eat my lunches alone. I do not eat with any of the women that approach me."
Kamoshida stared at him for several seconds, his eyes narrowing before he grinned. "Alright then, just checking. Pay me no mind Shiobana. Harudori has been acting odd ever since practice one day, maybe rattled her brain after a particularly bad bump during practice." He chuckled as he patted Giorno on his shoulder. "Just let me know if she brings up anything strange to you."
He then walked off, and Giorno's eyes narrowed at his back. "Scum."
Kamoshida was a thug in a position of power. A former Olympian that seemed to get away with anything and everything. He could tell the man was abusing his power, and it did not take a genius to realize that most of the volleyball teams' injuries weren't just practice-related. Kamoshida seemed to take a particular interest in harassing Giorno in a variety of subtle ways. Possibly due to racism, if his insistence towards calling Giorno by his Japanese name was any indication.
Yet, the school did nothing. The teachers were ignorant and sang his praises whenever a game came along. The Student Council seemed blissfully unaware, otherwise they would be doing more. There were no angry parents coming in, or other students standing up for their friends.
Everyone was simply looking away, pretending as if the problem didn't exist while the school benefited from Kamoshida's abuses.
"Just like home." Giorno was all to aware of the situation. The policemen and politicians of Naples were dirty, in on the take and looking away from the drugs that poisoned the city.
Giorno put his hands into his pockets and walked up the stairs. He was too agitated and drinking potentially lukewarm tea wouldn't improve his mood.
He didn't have the power to do anything to make a piece of scum like Kamoshida pay for his abuses of the innocent.
Not yet anyways.
xxXXxx
"Thank you so much!" A man with short blond hair and light blue eyes said with a grateful smile. He was wearing a black suit with a tie version of The Great Wave Off Kanagawa. He smiled as he took out a small Japanese fan and began to wave it in front of his face. "Ah, it's been so long since I was last in this country! I was afraid I would get lost, but it's fortunate that I was able to find someone like you!"
"Think nothing of it." Giorno informed the man with a polite smile. "You had looked so lost before. I simply could not stand back and let you continue on as you were."
"Well, I am truly grateful for it. I know now where I am." The man gave a sigh as he said, "Tokyo is certainly more confusing than Tatsumi Port..." His face then perked up as he said, "Oh! A Big Bang Burger! I've heard that restaurant has become 'in' with the Japanese!" With that, the man walked down Central Street towards the fast food restaurant. Giorno gave a friendly wave before looking down at his left hand, which held a black leather wallet. He opened it, showing a few credit cards, a picture of a younger version of the man hugging a red-haired girl, and several hundred thousand yen.
"Well. this was certainly a profitable find." Giorno muttered to himself as he took out the bills and put them into his own pocket.
Giorno had learned to pickpocket a young age, mostly due to his desire to enter into a gang. After all, if a member of the mafia spotted Giorno's skills one of two things would happen: Giorno would have to give his take to the mobster and avoid the area for a good long while, or he would be impressed enough to give Giorno an offer. The former bullies gave Giorno plenty of money, but Giorno had expensive tastes. He liked high-end sweets, frequenting numerous cafes, and buying designer clothes from lines like Gucci.
Since he moved to Japan, Giorno had simply turned up the times he did this. His mother did not pay for his things, so if Giorno wanted to keep his lifestyle then he would simply have to pickpocket more often.
Tourists were the easiest marks. They spotted his blond hair and blue eyes and went to him to see if he could give them directions. Giorno knew several languages besides Italian and Japanese, so he could speak to most tourists no matter where they came from. He would take their wallets while leading them to their location, quickly empty it of cash, and return it to their pockets with the victims none the wiser.
Giorno was not heartless. He would not rob people of their entire livelihoods, or deprive them of memories that the pictures within the wallets held.
His eyes quickly flickered to the men standing in the alleyway, eyeing him while wearing casual clothes. Giorno knew who they were. They were in with the local Yakuza gang. They did not interfere with Giorno because they did not hold a monopoly over pickpockets in the city, and were apprehensive about offering him a job due to his foreign looks.
"If only I had an opportunity..."
Well, no matter. The foreign man was in line for a burger, so Giorno had enough time to slip into the restaurant and return the wallet to him. Giorno spotted one of his classmates inside the restaurant, so Giorno had an easy alibi for entering the restaurant should the man question why he was there...
"Giovanna?"
Giorno closed the wallet and gripped it in his right palm. He turned around to the left, lowering his hand in a way that wouldn't be noticeable to the person behind him. "May I help yo-?"
The person behind him was a woman with brown hair in a bob cut, which had blunt bangs and a headband that seemingly matches her hair. Her eyes were a reddish brown, and wore the Shuujin uniform without the standard blazer. Instead, she wore a black halter vest over a long sleeve white shirt with a turtleneck. She also wore a black and red pleated plaid skirt, as well as black tights and brown ankle boots.
"Niijima-senpai." Giorno bowed as he said, "What a coincidence meeting you here."
She continued to stare at him with bewildered eyes. "Y-Yes, well I was simply running some errands, getting supplies for home and the school..." Her eyes then narrowed as she said, "I spotted you by coincidence. And I saw you take something from that man."
Giorno hummed and said, "What do you mean? I was simply guiding a tourist to his destination."
"Giovanna, theft is a serious crime." Makoto said while crossing her arms. "It can lead to you getting expelled. I cannot turn a blind eye to this."
"And yet you turn a blind eye to crimes much worse." Giorno did not let any apprehension show on his face. Doing so would give the game away. Lucky for Giorno, he had been doing this for a long time and as such was an expert at keeping up appearances. "I can assure you Niijima-senpai, nothing of the sort happened. My heart aches for those who fall victim to crimes such as theft, yet I have not participated in such activities."
A lie, but said with the confidence of one who told the truth.
"Then please, show me your hands." Makoto looked at him pleadingly. "Giovanna, I don't want to be right. So please, prove me wrong."
Giorno nodded and slowly raised his hands up. When the right hand was up by an angle, he dropped the wallet which fell into his sleeve. Makoto did not notice a thing. Giorno raised up his hands and opened then fully to show them as empty. "Satisfied?"
Makoto eyed Giorno and asked, "May I search your pockets?"
"Go ahead."
Makoto's hands instantly went into Giorno's coat pockets, only to receive nothing from them. Her face became flushed when she went into his pants pockets, and retrieved only Giorno's cellphone and wallet. "This is yours?"
"Yes."
Makoto opened it and saw within the wallet was a picture of a man. He was large with bulging muscles and with long blond hair combed back. Along his neck was a sickly red scar and on his left shoulder blade just below the neck was a star-shaped birthmark. "Who is this?"
"My father." Giorno informed her. "That's the only picture I have of him."
That seemed to strike a nerve in Makoto, as her voice faltered. "O-Oh... so he's..."
"I never knew him. All I know is that he was British and he and my mother met in Cairo, Egypt." Giorno gave a sigh as he held out his hand. Makoto handed back the wallet and phone, and she seemed a bit more down.
"But you keep a photo of him..." Makoto muttered out, causing Giorno to shake his head.
"I have no real interest in him. Simply a curiosity." Giorno chuckled as he put the items in his jacket pocket. "After all, we Italians have some pride in where we come from. He's my father, and so I keep his photo."
"Okay..." Makoto coughed into her hand. "Well... anyways, I am glad to see that my suspicions were unfounded. I'm sorry for all of this, but I had to be sure..."
"You are the Student Council President. It's only natural that you take your duties and responsibilities seriously." Giorno gave a polite smile while Makoto nodded.
"Yes, well... I best be going. Have a nice day, Giovanna." With that, Makoto left Giorno and disappeared to the crowd.
When she was out of sight, Giorno lowered his arm and allowed the wallet to slip into his hand. He sighed before turning his attention to the Big Bang Burger. He saw through the door that the man was still in line, behind two people before the register. He could still make it in time.
Makoto Niijima, the Student Council President. She liked to give off the air of professionalism, and she had top marks in her academics. She was polite in all conversations, and barely raised her voice in any conversations.
And yet she was ignorant of the corruption of her own school.
She was like another corrupt politician or police officer, either willfully ignorant or in on the injustices.
"No, she didn't give off that air." Giorno shouldn't be that quick to judge. He had spent a long time learning to read people, after all. "There is most likely more to it than that."
Still, if she was not going to help with the problem then focusing on her was unimportant.
Giorno then blinked and turned his head to left. He looked into an alleyway, and he could swear he saw a faint velvet blue glow...
No.
"Ghk!" Giorno gripped his forehead and clenched his teeth. His head hurt, as if something was burrowing into his brain. Like little fingers poking and probbing...
Not yet. You will not meet them just yet. But you shall walk their plane of existence soon enough. Prepare, Heir of Humanity...
"Gah!" Giorno lifted his head, and turned to the right. His eyes widened at his own reflection.
Now, on his face, was a mask. It was mostly white, and seemed like an incomplete opera mask. It covered the top portion of his face, nose included, and most of the right side of his face but the edges stopped by his mouth. By his right eye seemed to be a ladybug's red and black dotted elytra and its wings.
"W-What!?" Giorno quickly grabbed onto his face, only to feel no mask. He looked back at his reflection, and saw nothing. Giorno breathed in and out to calm himself. He coughed as he straightened himself out, ignoring the stares directed at him by other people. "What was that? That voice... that mask... what did I just experience?"
Giorno bit his lip and gripped his forehead. It still hurt. He needed something to calm his nerves. He would go to Cafe LeBlanc immediately. Good coffee would calm his nerves.
But first, he should return the wallet before the man noticed something was amiss.
xxXXxx
Giorno sighed as he opened the door to the cafe. Sojiro was behind the counter and eyed him. "Ah, you're back."
"Yes. It's been a long day." Giorno sighed as he sat at a stool. "I have a headache, so I would appreciate some coffee."
"Should have just taken some medicine from that doctor across the street or from your own home." Sojiro sighed as he said, "Well, so long as you're paying I won't complain."
"Thank you." Giorno sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "Was I hallucinating all that before? No, I did not eat anything strange and I certainly never took a drug in my life... There has to be some explanation."
Giorno was no stranger to unusual occurrences. There were times when flowers or grass seemed to grow at a much faster rate around him. Plants he worked with that were dying somehow got better under his care. At times, Giorno felt as if someone was standing behind him.
But he saw nothing. So Giorno had simply thought it was just his imagination.
However, this was different. Giorno knew he saw what he saw, and heard what he heard.
Giorno heard the chatter of of the television, talking about a train accident. The two old people behind him were discussing about it, and how worried they were. Sojiro brought the coffee to Giorno, who began sipping it. Now his headache was starting to subside.
Giorno then heard the bell ring, and turned his head to see who had entered.
It was a young man, perhaps a year older than him. He had wavy black hair and dark gray eyes. His wore the Shujin school uniform, which consists a buttoned up black blazer with red buttons and the school's emblem on the pocket, a white turtleneck shirt that has two black chevrons on the collar, and black and red plaid trousers. He also wore black glasses, that seemed to compliment his uniform.
"Another student knows of this place?" Giorno thought he was the only one that came to LeBlanc. Come to think of it, he had never seen this person in the halls before... "Ah, must be a transfer student."
Sojiro said farewell to the two elderly customers, who shuffled past the new student. "Four hours for just one lousy cup of Joe..." Sojiro sighed out. He then turned to the new student. "So you're Akira, huh?"
The student, Akira, pushed up his glasses and said, "Please take care of me."
"Do they know each other?" Relatives perhaps? Sojiro never talked about relatives... "Well, to be fair we never talk in-depth about much."
Sojiro seemed to size up Akira and said, "Yeah. Anyways..." He smirked as he said, "I'm Sojiro Sakura. You'll be in my custody for the next year."
Custody? "Hm. This is surprising of you Sakura-san. Never thought you would have custody of a teenager." He said while sipping his coffee.
Sojiro sent Giorno a small glare, which told Giorno he stepped on the toes of something personal. "There's a lot about me that you don't know, kid."
"The mood certainly soured quite a bit." Should leave just in case he was overstaying his welcome. "Thank you for the coffee." He took one final sip of his coffee and set down the cup before giving the appropriate amount of yen. He got off from his stool and looked at the new student, who was eyeing him curiously.
Well, he might as well introduce himself.
"Hello. My name is Giorno Giovanna." Giorno gave a small bow before outreaching his hand. "I assume that you will be my new Senpai at school. I look forward to seeing you there."
The student seemed taken aback by this greeting, as if he were expecting a different treatment. "Curious. I wonder what the reason is..."
He then watched as the student then bowed slightly and said, "My name is Akira Kurusu." He then brought forth his own hand and shook Giorno's. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Little did these two know, their fates were now interwoven.
They along with others will soon embark on a dangerous and bizarre journey, one that shall decide the fate of all...
A fate that is tied to Giorno's very blood...
The Infamous Man Presents...
Fiori Fantasma
Note: This came about thanks to me playing Persona 5 instead of working on my other fics. Christ. The game is so good.
One of the things that interested me to this idea is that Giorno is one of the JoJos that I truly think fits the message of Persona 5, besides Jotaro and Jolyne for obvious reasons. Giorno melds with and contrasts the setting. Giorno actually wants to be in a position vindicated by society. He's going to be a mobster, which has a hell of a lot less romantic than that of a thief. He's going to be a member of the Phantom Thieves, but his involvement is going to make them dip their toes in a much more morally grey world. Hell his 'Social Link' with Akira is more or less the Phantom Thieves aiding Giorno's rise to being the boss of the Yakuza.
There's going to be a lot of conflicting feelings amongst the Phantom Thieves in regards to this.
Figuring out Giorno's place in the setting was pretty easy, especially his connection to other characters and society at large. Giorno is an outcast very different from Ann. Mostly because Giorno takes pride in the fact he's Italian, not Japanese. Despite the fact that he does have a Japanese name and everything. People make assumptions about foreigners or people with foreign features, but Giorno sort of makes his own situation worse by insisting he's not Japanese.
Also unlike most crossovers, Giorno is not replacing the MC. He also does not have the Wild Card. He is basically the deuteragonist, he both has his own story and aiding in Akira's.
Plus what Philemon and Nyarlathotep have in mind for Giorno...
Hope you guys liked the idea and check out my stories!
