When Trish first awoke in the colosseum, she attempted to collect her thoughts. The last thing she remembered before being knocked out was her, Giorno, and Mista finding Bucciarati. She could feel Diavolo's presence nearby, but it was faint. And then she passed out, waking up to face herself. Trish blinked as her and her body screamed at each other. It took five minutes of figuring out who was who, before the gang attempted to figure out what had caused this in the first place. To their surprise, Coco Jumbo was on the move, and talking. The turtle, who now had the soul of the man the gang was supposed to meet, Jean Pierre Polnareff, explained to the gang that his stand, Silver Chariot, had caused this mess. He also mentioned something about a greater power, the Requiem arrow, which seemed to be the thing that caused this mess, and the thing that would save them.
Narancia, who was now in Giorno's body, spotted an unidentified man sprinting straight into the colosseum. Giorno, in Narancia's body, and Trish, who was in Mista's body, stood behind the wall, stands drawn at the ready. Trish leaned out to get a look at the man entering. Long pink hair with green spots all around, wearing… fishnets as a shirt. At least his pants and shoes were normal. Trish looked back at Mista, who was in her body, quietly comparing the two. Without a doubt, this was her father. Or at least, her father's body. When Polnareff pointed out his evolved stand, Chariot Requiem, she watched as Sticky Fingers manifested for 'Diavolo'. She sighed with relief over the fact that Bucciarati was still with them, not yet dead. After a short encounter with the Requiem stand, and a realization that any attack done to Chariot Requiem would result in the attacker to get assaulted with their own stand, the gang took a few minutes to figure out their next plan of attack.
Narancia, seemingly out of the blue, exclaimed that he'd protect her until his dying breath. Trish, having watched a few shows in her life, felt something wrong was about to happen. Mista turned to Trish, asking for the bullets in her boots, as the teen obliged, handing roughly 20 bullets to the man in her body. But mid pass, time jumped. A realization from Trish, as she watched some of the bullets that she pulled out roll on the ground; four of them to be exact. Mista shouted at her to drop another bullet, his fears coming back in full force. With this realization, everyone was on guard. Trish cursed to herself, wondering how she couldn't even sense Diavolo. She couldn't even feel his presence, so how did time skip if he wasn't around? These thoughts were broken by Giorno's question.
"Trish, you said that you couldn't feel the boss' presence when we woke up, right?" Giorno questioned, as Trish nodded.
"Yeah. And I can't sense his presence now either." Trish stated, Giorno and Polnareff nodding.
"But this isn't making any sense. You swapped with Narancia, and Trish swapped with Mista. Thus, Bucciarati swapped with Diavolo. It's the only way. Nothing else would make sense." Polnareff cried.
"But no other explanation as to how time just jumped. Diavolo's soul has to be somewhere else." Giorno said, frustration present in his voice.
"Narancia, how does our perimeter look? Is anyone coming?" Bucciarati questioned, looking back to where Narancia should be. The boy was absent, it would seem.
"Narancia?" Bucciarati called, looking slightly to his left, a small gasp escaping.
Blood flowed down the pillar, landing right on Giorno's brooch. With that, the rest of the gang's eyes averted upwards, to a horrific sight. Giorno's body practically skewered by the metal bars. The next few minutes blurred for Trish. Between Narancia's death, and the realization that Diavolo shared a body with another soul, Trish felt like she was having a bad dream, and she'd wake up back in the colosseum unharmed, and all would be right. Instead, Narancia was dead, and Diavolo had them where he wanted. Trish turned back to the scene before her. Giorno's soul had already slipped back into his body, but the tears were still rolling down his cheeks. Trish had sworn it was the first time she'd seen Giorno fully breakdown like this. Trish wiped away the tears from her eyes, watching Bucciarati bite back his emotions and Mista wailing.
Bucciarati, who seemed to partially agree with Polnareff's theory, being that Diavolo and the other soul were in separate bodies, still has his doubts.
"Narancia was killed because he was our radar. He wanted to cripple us, and he has." Trish seemed to notice when Bucciarati was upset by something, his response would be to become harsher around everyone else. And right now, she could tell that Bucciarati was hurting bad. And his words stung Giorno the harshest. Narancia had died for nothing. When Abbacchio died, he had obtained the boss' face. When Bucciarati was gravely injured at San Giorgio, he used all of his strength to save Trish. Narancia, on the other hand, obtained nothing from death.
"Let's move, everyone." Bucciarati called, already walking out. Mista followed close behind, gun at the ready.
Trish lagged behind, watching as Giorno began to cover up Narancia's body with flowers. For a moment, Giorno's eyes flashed their brilliant gold once more, brighter than the last time.
"I'm sorry I failed you, Narancia." Giorno muttered, wiping his eyes, as they returned to their vivid green. Giorno stood up and picked up Polnareff, as him and Trish followed after Bucciarati and Mista.
Once more, the next couple of minutes rushed past Trish like a bullet. She'd felt something off at the colosseum, like she was being watched. But Trish pressed on, following the rest of the gang close. As the team was catching up with Chariot Requiem, they abruptly stopped, when Giorno realized that the boss could be within one of them. Giorno knew that his stand could detect an extra soul in a person, and wanted to test his theory on the team. Mista attempted to call Giorno out on his theory, but was dismissed by Bucciarati, who agreed to get tested. All went well, until the next time skip. From there, all hell broke loose. Diavolo had been hiding in Trish's body with Mista. Trish summoned Spice Girl, but that allowed for Diavolo to have a bridge between him and Trish. His soul jumped, inhabiting Mista's body, and Trish's mind went blank for the next few minutes.
When Trish opened her eyes next, she felt ethereal. Slowly awakening from her slumber, she looked down, watching the earth below her get further and further away. From Giorno's perspective, it was utterly terrifying. Trish and Spice Girl rose above the earth, flying further and further away. If Trish had been fully asleep through the whole thing, maybe it would've been better for Giorno. Instead, he had to watch the pinkette soar above the heavens.
"Shit, someone help me!" Trish cried.
"Bucciarati, help me!" She shouted.
"Mista, HELP ME!" She screamed.
"GIORNO, SAVE ME!" Trish shrieked.
Each word sunk Giorno to the ground, the teen feeling his world come apart at the seams. The one job they were tasked with they had failed; to protect Trish. Giorno wanted to cry, but nothing came out. He looked up, watching the events unfurl before him. Bucciarati and Diavolo figured out Chariot Requiems ability, and how to destroy it. Diavolo partially destroyed it, to obtain the arrow. Bucciarati fully destroyed it to send everyone back to their bodies. With the destruction of Chariot Requiem, the entirety of Roma returned to their original bodies. Giorno's eyes averted upwards, watching Trish's soul descend from the heavens. All at once, Trish's soul landed in her own body, with Mista following soon after, his body flying through the air for a moment, both Trish and Giorno catching his body.
"Guess who's back? Thanks for that, Bucciarati." Mista smirked, a prideful grin on his face, even with the blood flowing out from his mouth.
"Let's never do that again, ok? Can't have ya dyin' on us twice now, eh Trish?" Mista jested, coughing up a fair amount of blood on the pavement.
"Hey, Giorno. A little help here?" He requested to the blonde, Giorno seemingly shellshocked.
"I know you're worried about Bucciarati, but he'll be back here before you know it… right?" Mista chuckled, earning a wince from both teens.
Before anyone else could say anything, the blue-capped teen passed out in Giorno and Trish's arms. They laid him down onto the pavement softly, both of them rising to full height. They looked upwards, watching the clouds form into their fallen comrade.
"Now then, Giorno. It's on you." Bucciarati's voice rang out, with his body appearing as if in a cloud.
"B-Bucciarati? You're… the body that we… back at the colosseum… I-I don't know if it's…" Giorno choked back his tears, but it was increasingly difficult as time passed.
"Giorno, Trish. Thank you, for all that you both have done." Bucciarati's ethereal voice echoed overhead, both teens staring up in disbelief.
Bucciarati's gaze turned to Giorno. "When we met for the first time, back in Napoli. When we joined forces against the Famiglia. Although my body became marked for fate by death's hands, my soul was reborn. You had revived my faith, Giorno." Bucciarati assured Giorno, the blonde teen still unsure of what to say. The clouds dispersed, with the sun's blazing gaze staring down upon the earth. Bucciarati's body began to ascend higher, towards the light.
"Thank you for showing me true happiness. I'll be fine, no need to worry about me." Bucciarati turned back, looking down to the two teens.
"Give everyone my regards. Protect Trish and keep her safe. It's on you now, Giorno." With Bucciarati's final words, Giorno reached up, as the golden clouds above enveloped his hand. Bucciarati's soul rose higher above, until all at once, the clouds dispersed, and Bucciarati was gone. In his place, clutched in Giorno's hand, was the Requiem Arrow. Giorno's face contorted in anger, his eyes flashed their brilliant gold, as he felt himself begin to pass out.
"Giorno!" Trish cried, rushing over to catch Giorno. His body landed in her arms, as she felt the overwhelming urge to sleep rush over her. She obliged, but it wasn't like she had a choice in the matter. Trish only hoped that she wouldn't be passed out for too long.
A/N: Sorry for the late upload. It's still Friday where I am, so technically, I'm uploading on time.