Being completely deflated was not something Giorno never thought he would ever experience, but it was an enlightening experience to be sure. Enlightening in what aspect? Even Giorno couldn't answer that. Their mission was simple enough; to retrieve Polpo's fortune from Capri. They had expected an attack on the team. What they didn't expect was for the attacker to already be on the boat. Once Bucciarati defeated their foe, and after a well-choreographed dance number, Abbacchio, the white-haired goth, used his stand to figure out that there was someone waiting for the team on Capri already. Giorno offered to go and make sure that the team was safe once they landed on the island. While most of the team seemed opposed to this idea, the team's gunslinger decided to team up with Giorno and join him on his mission to protect the team.
Once Giorno and the gunslinger, Guido Mista, reached Capri, they took point, trying to find the flattening dude's partner. When they found him, Mista was the first to take point and attack the man. After a grueling fight atop a truck driven by a driver scared out of his mind, Mista returned with Sale, the partner of the dude on the boat, unconscious. The truck driver, complaining about being pushed around, was forced by Giorno to drive the truck up the road. It was only when Mista called to Giorno that he had already caught the perp that Giorno left the truck and re-joined his teammate. Giorno noticed Mista's injury and offered to heal him, to which Mista declined.
Along the coastline, Giorno and Mista sat with the unconscious Sale, waiting for their team to arrive, while Giorno talked into a radio.
"Bucciarati, we've got Zucchero's partner. He's passed out for the time being." Giorno spoke into the microphone.
On the other end, he could hear Bucciarati's chuckle. "Good to hear. We're roughly five minutes away from you. You and Mista keep busy for the moment." Bucciarati's voice rang through.
"Understood." Giorno replied, shutting off the radio.
"Welp, we've got five minutes to kill. Anything on your mind?" Mista asked.
Giorno cocked an eyebrow and glared at Mista. "Who are you, my therapist? We've only known each other for maybe three hours." He joked.
Mista chuckled. "Excuse you, I'd like to think that I would make a great therapist." He replied.
Giorno rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath and sighed. "Can't say anything in particular is on my mind at the moment, aside from the location of the money." He stated.
Mista gave a gleeful grin. "Yeah, that thought's occupying a space in my head as well. Well, that, and all the hot chicks over here." He said through his smile, glancing over his shoulder to the shops on the waterfront.
Giorno shook his head and sighed. "That's all, huh?" He asked.
Mista craned his head back to Giorno, grinning. "Come on Gio, ain't you ever fantasized about a girl before?" He queried.
"Can't say that I have." Giorno muttered, thankful that only Mista and the unconscious Sale were present.
Mista cocked an eyebrow. "You ever fantasized about a guy?" He joked.
Giorno gave Mista another glare. "I don't swing that way. I'm sorry if you were coming onto me." Giorno replied.
Mista let out a hearty laugh. "HA. Nah man, just making sure. No judgment on my end." He said.
"Although…" Mista continued. "…if you had to, what'd you say would be your type?"
Giorno groaned. "Why did I see this coming?" He muttered.
"Hey, if you're uncomfortable, you don't have to." Mista reassured.
Giorno sat back in thought for a moment, before returning his attention to Mista. "Someone whose smart and strong enough to defend herself." He said at last.
"So, you're saying that she'd be the dom of the relationship?" Mista questioned.
"Don't say it like that." Giorno said, earning a chuckle out of Mista. "I don't want one side of the relationship to be overpowering over the other. I want to be with someone whose an equal. I want to depend on her as much as she does on me."
Mista chuckled. "Damn, wasn't expecting a serious answer from you." He said.
Giorno smirked. "Guess it's just how I am." He replied.
The honk of a horn caught the attention of Giorno and Mista, seeing the boat finally pulling into the port. Narancia waved to the two of them as Fugo and Abbacchio stood idly. Mista smirked. "Guess that's our cue to dump this ass clown on the boat." He remarked, as both he and Giorno picked the body up and brought Sale over to the boat.
With the two foes safely within the ship, Bucciarati's team made their way to their rendezvous point given to them by one of the capos of Passione. Getting to the point, which was a restroom overlooking the sea, the team took point, scanning around for their contact. During this time, Fugo and Narancia took Mista into the bathroom to stitch up his injuries. Although Giorno could have stepped in at any time, he decided against it. Bucciarati, Abbacchio and Giorno all entered the restroom as Bucciarati congratulated all of them for their commendable efforts in getting to Capri. Abbacchio questioned where Bucciarati hid the treasure, but Bucciarati stated that it was not the time to divulge such information. The rest of the team was surprised to say the lease.
However, at that moment, Narancia heard sweeping from the outside, calling for the entire team to stay quiet. He exited the bathroom saw two janitors and told them to wait to clean up until after they left. The janitor, whose pink hair fluttered out from underneath his cap, told Narancia off, walking towards the men's bathroom. Giorno watched as Narancia pulled out a switchblade, holding it to the back of the pink haired janitor's neck. Giorno hoped to whoever was listening that Narancia would stop attacking this innocent public worker. His hopes were soon answered as Pink Hair dropped his broom and turned the blade on Narancia, the blade cutting into his cheek. Narancia, in retaliation, pulled out a second switchblade from wherever the hell he kept a second switchblade, nearly stabbing Pink Hair right through his jaw. Bruno shouted for Narancia to stop, his blade mere inches away from Pink Hair's face. Bucciarati quickly explained that they were in the presence of the Passione capo that had called them there.
The gang quickly got their shit together and bowed respectively to the short, gray haired capo, Nunzio Pericolo, who had been waiting for them to receive Bucciarati's promised money. Pericolo told them to be at ease, and to stop their bowing. He turned to Giorno, recognizing him as the new guy on Bucciarati's team. Giorno confirmed this, watching Pericolo extend his kindness out to the blonde teen. Giorno thanked him, sparing a short glance to the pink haired janitor, who seemed more interested by his surroundings than what was unfolding.
'Is this guy a part of Passione, or just some poor schmuck who got roped into this?' Giorno thought to himself.
Pericolo turned his attention to Narancia, telling him that Pink Hair didn't like it when she's touched. That sparked something in Giorno's brain.
'So, he's not a guy. But even still, why's a girl doing business with the mafia?' Giorno thought again. His thoughts were once more distracted as he watched Fugo sucker punch Narancia for failing to show proper respect to Pericolo.
Bucciarati brought the conversation back on track, bringing up Pericolo's disguise. Pericolo dismissed Bucciarati's worry and questioned him about where the money was, which Bucciarati reassured was actually there, pointing to the restroom, much to the confusion of the rest of his team. Bucciarati smirked, making his way into the restroom, summoning Sticky Fingers, and punching one of the urinals open, to reveal jewels and gold piled high in the urinal. Pericolo inspected the jewels and confirmed their authenticity. He packed up quickly, much to the dismay of Mista and Narancia, chuckling at their reactions.
Once outside the restroom, Pericolo bestowed the rank of capo onto Bucciarati, filling the void left in Polpo's 'suicide'. Pride swelling throughout Bucciarati's team. Giorno smirked.
'This is just what we needed. The higher we are in the mafia, the closer we are to the boss. Once we get there, it'll be smooth sailing.' Giorno thought to himself.
Pericolo brought the mood back down, telling them that there was one task left unfinished by Polpo, sent down directly from the boss. Naturally, the team freaked out, wondering what exactly the boss ordered Polpo to do in the first place. Pericolo told them to protect the boss' daughter, even if it cost them their lives.
Giorno felt his body stiffen and his blood run cold. He had hoped that there would be no strings attached on the path to rising in power in the mafia. When the gang was told that their mission had begun already, everyone stood in confusion. Where even was the boss' daughter? That's when Giorno turned his attention to Pink Hair, his eyes widening in realization.
"Bucciarati, wait. That girl." Giorno said, catching the attention of the gang. "She must be the boss' daughter."
The rest of the gang gasped in realization. Giorno locked eyes with Pink Hair for a moment, her piercing green eyes meeting his own. Their gaze was broken a moment later by Bucciarati.
"Could that really be her?" Bucciarati exclaimed. The rest of the gang stood in stark silence, taking in all of the information.
Pink Hair spoke up. "If you'll excuse me, I need to… you know." She trailed off, majority of the gang understanding her implication.
"That's alright, Trish. Go ahead." Pericolo nodded, as Trish walked off.
'Well, now we have a name to a face.' Giorno thought once more.
Bucciarati ordered Mista, Fugo, and Narancia to go and wait outside the restroom to protect Trish. The three of them complied, leaving Bucciarati, Abbacchio, Pericolo, and Giorno alone. Pericolo explained to the rest of them that her full name was Trish Una, stating that she's fifteen years old. Not even her name had a connection to the elusive boss, who Trish had never even met before. Pericolo went on to explain that Trish's mother, Donatella Una, on her death bed, went hunting for the boss, believing his name to be Solido Naso, even though that name never existed. He went on even still, explaining how Trish became a big target in the famiglia, just because of her blood ties to the boss. This news had been great for the assassinations team, who were currently labeled as traitors to Passione. If they could get their hands on Trish, they'd have leverage against the boss himself. She ended up in Pericolo's custody, who passed that custody down to Bucciarati. Pericolo explained that only the boss and himself knew who had Trish at that moment. Giorno took this time to speak up.
"Just one moment, Mr. Pericolo. Just to clarify, this was first Polpo's mission, correct?" Giorno asked, earning a nod from Pericolo. "So then that means…" Giorno trailed off, Pericolo understanding his implication.
"More likely than not, your enemies are going to be stand users. I'd say that'd be a good guess, my boy" Pericolo confirmed. Giorno and Bucciarati's faces contorted in a mixture of anger and worry, while Abbacchio looked pissed that Giorno got that from implications alone.
"They'll most likely be working in teams. Unfortunately, we don't know exactly how many of them there are." Pericolo explained as he walked away. "I am not a stand user, so I've done all I can do. If I find any more intel, I shall find a way to reach you." He finished, giving a backwards wave and leaving the gang.
Giorno heard the clacking of boots behind him, and turned his attention to the sound. Emerging from the restroom, Trish was now dressed in a dark brasserie and a pink and black long skirt with mathematical designs running along the skirt, and brown knee-high boots. At first glance, Giorno would admit that she was pretty. The blonde watched as Fugo took off his shirt, handing it to Trish, who then use his shirt as a hand towel, handing it back to Fugo after she used it. Fugo stood pissed for a moment, screeching as he slammed his shirt into the ground. Trish walked past Giorno, the two catching each other's gazes yet again, before Trish took the lead.
'One minute, we're hunting the boss, and the next were face to face with his own flesh and blood. This has to be done. If we can prove our worth to the boss, he'll put the same amount of trust in Bucciarati as he did in Polpo. But, if we fail, we'll miss our chance, and our story will end there.' Giorno couldn't help but think to himself as the team departed Capri back to mainland Italy.
Back on the boat, Giorno sat under the beating sun, keeping an eye out for enemies and observing Trish's actions. She sat on a lounge chair that Mista had pulled out from within the cabin, with her legs held against her chest, curled up in the fetal position, idly watching the ocean with little enthusiasm. Trish looked so small when she sat like that. Giorno wondered if it was something she did out of habit or if it was a new coping mechanism for her.
Trish broke her gaze from the sea, and cast it onto Giorno once again. For the third time today, the green-eyed teens stared at each other.
"Hey, blondie." Trish called.
And for the second time, Giorno felt his blood run cold. What could she possibly want with him?
"Yeah? What do you need?" Giorno asked.
Trish gestured him over to the lounge chair to sit next to her. Giorno complied and sat down next to the girl.
"So, what exactly did you call me over here for?" He asked Trish.
Trish shrugged. "I just needed someone to talk too. Your boss seems kinda cold." She said, looking towards Bucciarati, who was focused on driving the boat.
"Bucciarati's usually like that. I haven't known the guy for long, but he does care about his team." Giorno stated simply.
Trish cocked an eyebrow. "How long have you even been on his team?" She questioned, genuinely curious.
Giorno cupped his hands and called across the boat. "Hey Mista! You got the time!?" He called to the blue-capped teen.
Mista turned to Fugo and asked him, who glanced down at his watch and muttered something to Mista.
Mista cupped his hands and shouted back "It's eleven AM!"
"Grazie, Mista!" Giorno called back, looking back at the bewildered pinkette.
"Officially around two hours or so." Giorno casually admitted.
Trish raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Seems like you're the one who practically runs this place. I swear, you have this energy to you that I just can't explain." She said to the blonde teen.
Giorno chuckled. "To be fair, more likely than not, that energy you're referring to is something everyone else on this boat also has." He replied.
Trish shook her head. "No, it's not that. Sure, everyone has those… stand… things. I'm talking about just your general aura. You carry yourself as if you're actually the boss of the whole damn mafia." She explained.
Giorno cocked up an eyebrow. "Are you just trying to get my ego up just so you can break it down later, or do you actually mean that?" He questioned.
Trish once again shrugged. "That's for you to decide." She replied.
The two teens shared a chuckle with each other. There was a momentary pause, before Trish spoke up again.
"I know you already know my name, but just call me Trish." She said.
Giorno pondered for a moment, before glancing back at her. "Only if you call me Giorno." He smirked.
Trish donned a smirk of her own. "We'll see about that…" She paused, glaring right into Giorno's eyes. "…Giorno."
Once more, they shared a laugh, before Trish politely dismissed Giorno, the blonde teen realizing that the team was nearly ashore.
However, this interaction caught the attention of a certain blue-capped teen.
"Dude, what were you and Trish talkin' about?" Mista drilled into Giorno.
The blonde stood baffled. "She was just making small talk. It's not a big deal." Giorno replied.
Mista gawked at Giorno. "Uh, yea it is. You were yammerin' away with a girl. Even though Bucciarati ordered us to not talk with her. Of course, it's gonna be a big deal." He explained.
Mista looked back at Giorno, a devilish grin forming on his face. "Especially after our talk on Capri." He said slyly, earning a groan of disappointment out of Giorno.
"Come on Mista, I thought we dropped that conversation already." Giorno muttered.
Mista smirked at the embarrassment of his comrade. "Nah, I've still been thinking about it. You into her?" He questioned.
Giorno glared back at Mista. "I've had one singular conversation with Trish. I can't exactually gauge if I'm 'into' her from that alone." Giorno defended himself.
Mista rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around Giorno's shoulder. "Sure, sure. But when you see that pink haired gal in a bridal gown walkin' down the aisle towards ya, I'll whisper into your ear, 'I told ya so.'" He casually said to the blonde.
Giorno choked on his own breath. "Mista, we- I'm only fifteen. That's way too early to be talking about that. I barely know her in the first place." He sputtered.
Mista, once again, felt humor in Giorno's dismay. "All I'm sayin' is I can see some kind of reaction between the two of ya, an' it seems like a good one." He stated.
Giorno went to defend himself, but the roaring voice of Abbacchio telling them to stop their conversation stopped their conversation.
'Thanks, Abbacchio.' Giorno never thought he'd ever say those two words together, but now was not the time to worry about who was being thanked.
Giorno had only hoped that their protection of Trish would go smoothly.