"So if we're in Val Melaina by Thursday…" Mista chewed on his thumbnail and pored over a Japanese tourist's guide to Italy they had grabbed from the lobby of a travel agency. "Polnareff is deep undercover right now, but it will be easy to find him when we have him with us in the turtle. Then, when we figure out where Diavolo is and confront him one last time..."
"We'll outnumber him," Giorno said with a nod. "And we understand how King Crimson works. Fate will be on our side."
"Still a little concerned about the 'if we stop Diavolo now, how will Polnareff be dead in the turtle to help us get to him' thing," Mista replied. "Y'know. Paradoxes."
"The world is resilient," Giorno replied.
"Do you just mean 'life finds a way'?" Mista asked.
Giorno pursed his lips.
"'Cuz I think the moral of that movie was that messing with shit you don't understand ends badly," Mista said.
"I thought the moral was that capitalistic corner-cutting is to be avoided," Giorno said flatly. "They could have had a wonderful dinosaur park if they weren't so obsessed with profits." He sighed. "You know that I appreciate you speaking your mind, Mista. But I need to know that you are dedicated to this plan."
"Of course I want to save them," Mista said, his tone held carefully calm. "And I'd do anything for the family. To have them all back… I'd pay any damn price I had to. I'm just… this is new territory, even for us. Even for you."
"I know," Giorno said. "And I appreciate your concern. But…"
"This is gonna be our only opportunity to do something like this," Mista finished for him.
Giorno nodded.
"What about your dad?" Mista asked.
Giorno smiled so faintly that Mista squinted at him in order to be sure that his expression had actually changed. "What about him?"
"Yes," the double said. "What about him?"
Mista swore loudly and drew his revolver, but Giorno held up his hand. Sex Pistols hovered expectantly around Mista's shoulders, but he did not take aim.
The double smiled brightly. "Planning on an early Passione power-play?"
"If I am looking at the opportunity to neutralize Diavolo before he kills my family, then I am going to take it," Giorno answered. "Would such a thing be entertaining to you?"
The double sighed, but his grin only grew wider. "It would, but… there are a few things you don't know about trying to change fate. But if you'd like to see a quick demonstration of what would happen if you went forward with your plan as you have it now…" He held out his hand and curled sharp-nailed fingers to his palm in a lazy beckoning motion.
Giorno stared at him. Eventually, he nodded.
"Hold on," Mista said. "Just—"
Giorno disappeared.
The revolver swung up to point directly at the double's forehead. The double gave Mista a look of amused pity.
"I doubt it'll do much," Mista admitted, "but it's worth a shot."
"What, you don't trust me?" the double asked in mocking affront. "If I promise that I'll bring him back, will you feel better?"
"Porca miseria, I'm glad he didn't inherit being annoying as fuck from you."
"I may be his father, but I'm technically not his father. You'd know that if you had the ability to keep up with concepts more complex than simple arithmetic. What is two plus two, by the way?"
Mista made a show of huffing and puffing out his discontent. At the height of a grumbled tirade in Italian, the double smirked, and an exceptionally pale Giorno reappeared. He stumbled and caught his arm against a wooden dresser. Mista went to his side and shot the double a withering look.
"There was a hole," Giorno mumbled, and Mista furrowed his eyebrows in response. "And a place for each of them. And without them, it grew. But nothing could fill it quite right—not all of Rome…"
Mista scowled. "A hole? What do you mean, a hole?"
The double snapped his fingers as he interrupted before Giorno could explain further. "Oh! Before I forget. I need to go. I have to drop off Julius."
"Who the fuck is Julius?" Mista snapped.
"Julius Caesar," the double replied.
Mista squinted at him.
"You know how to change things, then," Giorno said as he leaned heavily against the dresser, "if you're about to go have some fun in the past."
"Perhaps," the double replied.
"What would it take for you to teach me?" Giorno asked.
The double's eyes lit up with amusement. Mista grimaced.
"I don't know," the double finally said with an exaggerated shrug. "Why don't you ask yourreal father to help you, instead?"
He disappeared.
Giorno inhaled deeply and slowly released the breath as he counted to ten. Mista watched him with growing concern as he picked up the travel guide and slowly crumpled it into a ball. Gold Experience manifested at his side and the balled-up travel guide slowly transformed into a large snail.
"Boss," Mista said tentatively.
"What I saw cannot be allowed to happen," Giorno said. "But I can't just… be idle here, knowing that he's planning to kill Trish. That he's going to…" He trailed off. The snail slimed its way across the surface of the dresser.
Mista finally holstered his revolver, but Sex Pistols floated around his shoulders, their worried expressions mirroring his own. "I know. I'd love to go double-tap that fucker right now. But if we need more time to figure this out, then we need more time to figure this out." He rolled his eyes. "This second Dio gets a real kick out of pissing people off. I think the only reason he didn't try doing any shit to me while you were gone was because I was really playing up how annoyed I was. Kept him entertained. He might just be showing you this to get you upset, yeah?"
Giorno rubbed his hand against his forehead and took another deep breath. Gold Experience stood at his side. "It's possible," he answered.
"And you're right," Mista insisted. "He has to know what to do. If he's going back in time to do some bullshit with Julius Caesar—"
Something thudded against the floor. Gold Experience reared back. As Mista turned to look at the source of the sound, Sex Pistols just barely managed to catch a steel ball and the minuscule Stands shrieked as they latched on and slowed its trajectory.
Gyro, wide eyed, set his second sphere to spinning in his palm. "Come sai il mio nome—"
"Stop throwing shit or I'll shoot," Mista shouted.
"Hold on," Giorno said.
Gyro drew his hand back and his arm was poised to swing. "Where the fuck am I and how do you know my name?"
Mista retrieved his revolver and took aim. "I have no idea who the hell you are! Now put the fuckin' bocci ball down."
Gyro's face screwed up in affronted anger. "Bocci ball? Bocci ball?! Che cazzo!"
"Yeah, well, che cazzo to you, too, pal! Stupida sfera." Sex Pistols finally dropped the steel ball; it landed on the wooden floor with a loud thunk.
And thus Dio and Johnny rushed up the stairs and the two ex-participants of the Steel Ball Run were reunited.
"So this is 1999," Gyro said with a whistle. He thumped his palm against the top of the boxy television as one would pat a favorite horse. "Look at all this fun new future shit, Johnny."
"Yup," Johnny said. "It's pretty much just like Josuke described it."
Gyro pawed through the box of VHS tapes and peered at the various illustrated cover slips. "So you can watch these like a play?"
"In a sense," Giorno explained. "You just put the tape in that machine and it'll show it to you."
"I don't have the patience for plays," Gyro said with a sigh. "Always get too damn fidgety in my seat."
"You can pause them," Mista suggested.
Gyro shrugged. "Eh." He tossed one back into the box but then picked up another and held it up with glee. "Yo, Johnny. It's a play about us."
Johnny gave him a befuddled look. "How? There wasn't a race in this world, we weren't— oh. Yeah."
Gyro grinned as he held up a copy of Dumb and Dumber.
"Dibs on Dumb," Johnny said. "You're definitely dumber."
Giorno frowned. "Have we seen my brothers around at all? I was hoping to get introductions out of the way."
"Donatello's in the bathroom," Mista replied with a roll of his eyes.
"We can meet them all later, if you'd like," Johnny said. "I've had one hell of a past twenty-four hours and I mostly just want to go stare at the ocean for a while."
Giorno nodded. "I understand completely. Would you like us to show you to the beach?"
"I'm familiar with Morioh, actually," Johnny replied.
"Am I invited to the beach brood session?" Gyro asked as he tossed the tape.
"Of course," Johnny said. "In fact, it's mandatory. You need to catch up on all the shit that happened after you disappeared."
Gyro approached Mista and held out a hand; Mista grabbed it, shook it, and then boisterously threw his arm around Gyro's shoulder when he came in for the bro-hug.
"No hard feelings," Gyro said with a smile as he pulled back, but then his expression grew stony and grim. "But if you ever say my actual name aloud again I will have to kill you."
"What, you think I can't keep a secret?" Mista said with a smirk. "I've had fingernails pulled for less important ones and I've never cracked."
Gyro grinned and shot Giorno a look before tipping his hat. "Same goes for you, lil' Diego."
Giorno gave him his most politely blank expression. Mista jabbed a finger at Gyro's chest and gave him a vicious sneer. "You threaten my boss again and I'll cure your corpse into salame for my Stand to eat."
Gyro stared at him for a moment before barking out a loud laugh. "Johnny, I love these guys!"
Johnny smiled. "We'll be back for supper and we can meet the rest of y'all then."
"I look forward to it," Giorno replied.
Gyro and Johnny made their exit; Giorno sighed out a slow breath and leaned against the back of the lumpy couch.
"You good?" Mista asked.
Giorno pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have… much to think about. I may also go for a beach brooding session."
"No shit," Mista replied. "Whatever hole thing you saw… I'm kinda glad I didn't see it. You looked…" He paused and grimaced as he thought it over, not wanting to sound insulting.
"Shaken," Giorno said with a wan smile. "I'm sure."
"What about the old man?" Mista said. "We sure having him go out and break into a bank is a great idea?"
"He can handle himself," Giorno replied. "I'm sure he's mostly doing that just to avoid Kujo. Whatever little misadventure he was on that resulted in another world's version of my… half-father to be brought here was probably not sanctioned by all the rules Jotaro had supposedly put in place."
"... About asking for his help," Mista said tentatively. "Do you think that he—"
The back door slammed open. Ungalo and Rikiel stumbled inside. Rikiel shoved the door shut again and leaned against it as he caught his breath. Outside, something hissed and scratched at the door.
Giorno furrowed his eyebrows as he approached them. "What's wrong?"
"We finished Titanic and noticed the rain stopped so we checked out the backyard," Ungalo explained breathlessly.
"There's a ton of old bricks and building materials back there," Rikiel added.
"We may have been throwing bricks at each other," Ungalo said.
"Carefully throwing bricks," Rikiel said.
"Super carefully," Ungalo echoed with a nod.
Mista squinted. "Why were you throwing bricks at each other?"
"Because it's fun!" Ungalo snapped.
"I missed my last throw and it went into a bush, which was fine, right? Like a bush isn't gonna be hurt by a brick," Rikiel said.
"But there was a cat in the bush," Ungalo added.
Rikiel swept his hand over his forehead. "I felt so bad, like, I didn't mean to throw a brick at the damn cat, I didn't know the cat was there! So I went over to make sure the cat was okay and—"
"It totally attacked us," Ungalo said. "It was a really pretty cat, though. Would be great to pet it if it wasn't a fuckin' beserker warrior cat."
Giorno took a deep breath as he approached the door. "If the cat was able to attack you, then it likely was not hurt very badly by the brick, no? If it's still there, I can check on it. I'm quite good with animals."
Rikiel and Ungalo stood back and watched as Giorno slowly pushed the door open. He leaned out, glanced around, and then brought forth Gold Experience. After simply standing there for a few minutes, he shrugged. "It must have run away," he said. "And if it got away that quickly, then I do not think it was hurt. You merely startled it."
Rikiel let out a long sigh. "Phew. Good."
"It'll just want to find some new safe place to hide," Giorno said. "It might not return now that it has had the bad experience with the brick, but maybe this will be some motivation for us to clean up the backyard. If we remove all that refuse, I'm sure we will find other animals hiding in it."
The front door creaked open; Rikiel and Ungalo jumped. Okuyasu tromped his way to the back door, his expression both confused and frustrated.
"So it's, uh, nice that my house is like the cool place for people to hang out," he said, "but I just saw, like, a sailor and a guy with a really weird beard walk out my front door and just like, a heads up about new people staying here would be cool."
"My apologies," Giorno said. "I wish I could have informed you sooner. Dio brought one of them here and the other quite simply appeared."
"Oi, I'm not mad mad, don't say sorry," Okuyasu said. "I just— you know— my dad and new people, he's doing really well but I'm worried— also, I don't have a ton of food in the house and I gotta go shopping but I don't know what everyone wants to eat and—"
"Okuyasu," Giorno interrupted. "Part of our agreement when it came to staying here is that we are meant to help you. If there is something you need done like grocery shopping or anything else, please, let us know."
"Yeah!" Ungalo said. "I can do your shopping! I'm really good at finding deals."
"No theft," Giorno said. "Let's leave the larceny to our father."
"I'm serious," Ungalo insisted. "I'm like a coupon wizard."
"Okay," Giorno said. "Okuyasu, give Ungalo your shopping list and use the rest of this day to relax. Rikiel, go do the shopping with Ungalo. Mista and I will leave to discuss a few things. Okuyasu, that will give you some time with the house all to yourself. I know that Dio said he was going to discuss our staying here with you more, but I doubt he has followed through on that yet. If you'd like, write up any rules you can think of and we can discuss it later. That includes if you do or do not want Johnny and Gyro to stay here. Do not feel guilty if you decide that they are too much— we can easily find them different lodging. Johnny and Gyro said they will be back in time for dinner," Giorno added. "I think Mista and I will return around that time, as well." For a brief moment, emotion shadowed his expression, but the strained look disappeared as quickly as it came.
Okuyasu nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. That sounds… good."
As Ungalo clutched the hastily scribbled shopping list, Rikiel closed the front door to the house behind them. "Giorno seems kind of distant," he said with a frown. "Like, he's all business like he always is, but something seemed to be bugging him."
Ungalo clapped a hand against his head. "Oh! His birthday!"
Rikiel blinked. "Birthday?"
"He said his birthday was in a month back in Florida," Ungalo replied. "So that would have been April. But we jumped to summer by coming here. So did we miss his birthday?"
"I mean, if he was keeping track of the days, he wouldn't be a full year older yet," Rikiel mused. "But missing the actual day kind of sucks, yeah."
"Let's make something!" Ungalo exclaimed. "Even if it isn't really his birthday, it'll be like a pick-me-up. We're doing this grocery run, anyway. So we can also get cake ingredients and all that."
"I don't know how to bake a cake," Rikiel said. "Do you?"
"...No," Ungalo admitted. "Giorno said he likes baking…"
Rikiel grimaced. "We can't make him bake his own birthday cake."
"We'll figure it out," Ungalo said as he strolled towards the street. "I mean, somebody in the house has gotta know how to make it."
The day went on. The house was quiet and still. Okuyasu trudged up creaky steps until he reached the topmost floor. He scowled when his fingers brushed past tiny bullet holes embedded in the wood.
"Yo, Dad," he said as he peeked into the room. "You want lunch? You didn't really eat breakfast today. Nobody else is in the kitchen right now and I think you... I know you like seeing everybody but it's a little more laid back right now." His expression brightened. "Oh! And I wanted to tell you about how wild getting coffee was today. Josuke just about lost his mind and was talking about other worlds or something before he ran off to talk to his mom, and uh, Dio exploded but he was fine." He grinned and scratched at the back of his head.
His father sat silent by the window. A little bubble of snot popped from his nose.
"Not a good day for you, huh, dad?" Okuyasu asked tentatively. "Do you want anything? Food? Water? You wanna go to bed?"
His father grumbled a strange noise and pressed his hand flat against the glass of the window. His head tilted. Okuyasu bounded over to his side and stared out the window, trying to follow his gaze. "Whatcha lookin' at?"
Something shiny immediately caught his attention; there was a luxury vehicle with darkly-tinted windows driving up the street. The ostentatious gold trim detailing gleamed in the midday sun. Okuyasu whistled. "Damn, yeah. That is a nice car."
The car slowed to a stop just outside the house. Okuyasu tilted his head. "You think they're lost?"
The passenger door swung open. Leather boots came out first, followed by tight jeans, a studded jacket, and a voluminous feathered collar. Dio held his umbrella in one hand and a bulky suitcase in the other. He said a few words to the driver before turning and strutting towards the front door of the house.
Okuyasu's father made a sound like a whimper as he turned away from the window.
Okuyasu chewed at the inside of his cheek.
"Milk," Erina recited as she looked at the tight cursive on the notepad. "Both from a cow and in baby formula. Peas. Potatoes. Chicken thighs." She pursed her lips. "See, these I understand. But…"
"I'm still learning all the Japanese cuisine basics, too," Joseph said as he pushed the cart.
"Umeboshi," Erina read from the list. "Am I saying that right?"
"I think so," Joseph said with a chuckle.
Erina glanced up the aisle and quirked an eyebrow. "And is this where we're going to find it?"
The snack aisle was bright in its sugary resplendence. "No," Joseph admitted as he looked longingly at a bag of konpeito candies. "But it's not bad to get a little treat every once in a while."
As Joseph held Shizuka in the crook of his arm and considered the snack selection in front of him, Erina couldn't help but overhear the conversation in the next aisle over.
"What all do we need?" Rikiel asked as he looked down the baking supplies aisle with a dubious expression. "Cake mix… we don't need flour and sugar and all that if we just do cake mix, right?"
"Yeah, we can do cake mix if we want to make a totally mediocre cake," Ungalo retorted.
"Neither of us know how to do shit in the kitchen," Rikiel said with a frown. "Let's stick to something that comes with its own directions to start."
Ungalo crouched down and looked at the bottom shelf. "What if we make it with cassava flour?"
Rikiel squeezed the bridge of his nose. "One, we don't even know how to use regular flour. Two, what the fuck is a cassava?"
Ungalo shrugged. "Dunno. The label just says that it's good for you. What about icing? If you add sugar to creamy peanut butter you can make peanut butter icing, I bet."
"Oh my God, you're making my stomach hurt just thinking about it. We aren't doing that. We're going to buy pre-made icing and put it on a box cake and it's gonna taste great because we made it with love and shit." Rikiel pushed the cart down the aisle and then pointed. "You can go nuts on the decorations, though. They have like thirty different kinds of sprinkles."
"I kind of want to put all twenty seven candles on it but with our luck we'd burn Okuyasu's house down," Ungalo said as he sorted through a rack of toppings.
"Are you two planning on baking a birthday cake?" Erina asked with a smile as she looked into the aisle.
Rikiel and Ungalo froze, then turned and looked at her like deer trapped in bright headlights. "Uh," Ungalo said. "Yeah, we're gonna make a birthday cake."
"Oh, sorry to intrude," Erina said with a polite nod. "I just happened to overhear and I've baked plenty of cakes myself. Would you like any help putting the ingredients together?"
Rikiel broke out in a cold sweat. Ungalo grabbed a few boxes at random and tossed them into the cart. "Thanks a bunch lady but uh, um, we got it!" He grabbed Rikiel by the shoulder with one hand and pushed the cart with the other. Erina blinked at them as they fled.
Once they were safely out of sight in the frozen foods section, Ungalo hunched over the cart and wheezed.
"That was her, right? Erina?" Rikiel asked as he pressed his hands to his face.
"Yeah, same lady we saw when we first got here," Ungalo replied. "You think she knows?"
Rikiel dragged his fingers down his cheeks. "She wouldn't have talked to us if she did, right?"
"I don't know!" Ungalo whisper-yelled. "We're little freaks of nature that came from the big freak of nature that stole her husband's body! How do you even begin to approach that situation? We're the only goddamn people on the planet that have ever had to deal with this!"
Rikiel opened up one of the freezer doors, stuck his head in, and let out a muffled scream of frustration.
"Let's just pay for this shit and get out of here," Ungalo said as he started pushing the cart. He stared down at what he had grabbed from the shelf. "We're gonna make, uh… carrot cake. And brownies. A carrot brownie birthday cake. With cotton candy icing. Giorno's gonna fuckin' love it," he huffed. "God damn it."
Joseph walked over to her side and squinted down the aisle. "Erina? Who were you talking to?"
"I'm quite certain I know who they are," she quietly said. "Okuyasu is quite young, isn't he?"
"Sixteen, I think," Joseph replied.
"Twenty seven…" Erina mused aloud. "Perhaps it was for… I only saw a glimpse at him at that artist's house."
Joseph hunched his shoulders in confused worry. "Who?"
When Erina looked back at him, the determination in her eyes made him stand up a little straighter. "You haven't been keeping anything from me, have you, Joseph? If there is family here that I have yet to meet, then it would be improper for me to ignore them."
"I haven't… it's just that…" Joseph frowned. "I don't like seeing you upset."
Her expression softened. "It hurts," she stated simply, and she put a hand on Joseph's shoulder. "Of course it does. But I am quite good at making the best of a bad situation. And it certainly isn't their fault. I would like to meet them."
"I haven't really met them, either," Joseph replied. "I just know that there's four of them. They've been staying at Okuyasu's house. Other than that…" He shrugged.
Erina smiled and tilted her head towards the aisle. "Well, how about we bake a cake and introduce ourselves?"
Dio slammed the door of a very shiny new car shut before adjusting his sunglasses and hefting a heavy suitcase into his hand. He let out a sigh that contained all the dramatic ennui that he could muster.
His earlier hypothesis had been right; the added strain of the stickers was what had limited his use of the stopped time. Now that he had recalled all of his stickers back to his Stand, there was still a little bit of ache that came with the use of his power, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been when five other people had been brought along with it.
So, all in all, he was doing just wonderfully in his original body. The fact that Jonathan's body had performed perfectly even with the additional people was something he just refused to think about.
In any case, easier access to the stopped time had made robbing the local bank a complete cakewalk. It had barely even taken up much of his day. Buying the car and some other goodies had taken longer. He supposed he was grateful for something easy to do after the stress he had faced in the other world, but he mostly just felt bored. Unsatisfied. He pouted as he strode towards the house. Perhaps next time he would have to up the challenge: no time stop, only move in time stop, vampire powers only, no vampire powers—
The front door of the house swung open as he approached; Okuyasu took a deep breath and gave him a serious, furrowed-brow look. "So, uh. Mr. Dio. I was wondering—"
"Here," Dio stated as he placed the bulky case on the porch. "Don't worry, I'm paying rent." He flipped the latch and opened the lid to reveal stacks and stacks of ten-thousand yen notes.
Okuyasu pointed at the box and his face screwed up in confusion. "Wh-what do you mean? What is this?"
"One hundred million yen," Dio replied. "It should suffice, but I can get you more if that is what you require."
"One hu—one huhh," Okuyasu wheezed. "One hundred million?"
Dio nodded. "As thanks for your assistance." He passed by Okuyasu, briefly clapped a hand onto his shoulder, and then began to enter the house. "I have another gift for you, as well. Go ahead and talk to the nice man driving the car. He can hand you the keys—" He stopped when he heard a shrill sound of frustration and the low-pitched booming sound of the Hand erasing something from existence.
Dio turned on his heel and gave Okuyasu a look of absolute bewilderment. He glanced down at the porch. The money was gone. "What!" he exclaimed.
Okuyasu's face was screwed up with anger and his eyes were watering. "No!"
Dio's lips twitched towards a confused snarl. "No?"
"I never turn down the chance to make money," Okuyasu began to say as he bunched the fabric of his jacket in his fists. "This kind of cash would set me up for life. But I can not take it from you because when it was your money my dad had, he became more of a monster than he is now! It went to his head! You went to his head! I'm not going to do that, too!"
Dio felt a flash of panic. He gritted his teeth. "Okuyasu, I am not trying to hurt you."
"You didn't try to hurt my dad, either," Okuyasu retorted. "You said it was accidental. You didn't mean to. And I'm sure you didn't mean for him to hit— for him to act like—" He choked on his words. His face had gone blotchy and red in his upset. "And you didn't mean to have the arrow end up here, and you didn't mean for Keicho to—" He cut himself off. His hands clenched into fists; his Stand mirrored his posture.
Dio gave him a look of complete confusion. "Who is Keicho?"
Okuyasu didn't answer him. Dio glanced at him, then at the house, and then at the car. "It's clear that I've made you uncomfortable. Would you like your house back to yourself?"
"Yes! I mean, no. I mean, just for now. For some me time." He scowled and pressed his palms to his eyes. "Don't get me wrong. I like everyone being here. I really, really do. I'm not kicking you out. I just don't know how to..." He paused. "You changed my family so much and you didn't even know it." He dragged his hands over his face. "Oh, I'm so stupid. I could have just put that money into savings and let it sit. Or gave it to like, Josuke. Or Koichi. Somebody. Damnit!" He sniffed.
"Oh, I can easily get you more money," Dio said with more levity than he felt, "but if you erase it again, I feel you may throw a wrench into the Japanese economy."
Okuyasu groaned into his hands. "Don't get me more money. I just... shoulda thought what I usually try to think instead of not thinking at all. About what big bro would do."
Dio stared at him blankly. "Well. I can take your... my car for a spin and give you some time to..." He gestured vaguely and his expression grew uncomfortable.
"Giorno wanted everybody to meet up to talk over dinner," Okuyasu said. "Just come back then."
Dio nodded, but he did not step away. Okuyasu scowled and wiped at his eyes. After a long uncomfortable silence, Dio spoke up. "Would you... like a hug?"
Okuyasu's face twisted with surprise, confusion, a bit of disgust, and finally, amusement. "What? From you?"
"I followed your advice," Dio replied. "I thought about it. It seemed like something my younger brother would have done."
Okuyasu stared at him. He pressed his lips into a thin line.
"You can get a fistbump," he finally said.
Dio quirked an eyebrow but held out his hand. Okuyasu's knuckles crashed into his; it was more a punch than a fistbump, but the sentiment was there nonetheless.
