Momentarily, the two just stared at one another. Giorno was completely awestruck. The adult poised half-in, half-out of the mirror like it was perfectly normal. This had to be the work of a stand! Stands were capable of fantastical feats like this? Giorno's childish imagination was given potent fuel to run wild at the possibilities. What sort of abilities did the others have? Formaggio, Sorbet, Gelato and the other three? What sort of power would he get if he acquired a stand of his own? Right now, in his head, the possibilities were limitless.

"Formaggio..." Illuso started as he stared down at the child. Currently, his amazement was unprocessed, due to sheer disbelief blocking it out. His other arm pointed to Giorno, who didn't seem to noticed this at the moment. "What's this kid doing in our meeting place?"

At that moment, Formaggio grinned inwardly, outwardly he kept a neutral expression. He rested the side of his face on a propped-up hand and answered casually, "This is GioGio, he's leader's kid."

Word weren't able to escape from Illsuo's throat despite his jaw dropping, hard. Immediately shocked, skepticism took over as he deftly dropped down from the mirror fully and landed in front of the couch. Now at a normal angle the tall hitman looked at Giorno with scrutiny while Giorno took in this new person's appearance. He could pick up on the man being indignantly stuck between whether to believe what he'd heard or not. He kept darting a look at Formaggio like he felt something was up.

"GioGio," Giorno turned his attention back to the one beside him. Formaggio pointed towards the new arrival with a snide grin on his face. "This is Illuso Bicchiere. He's a prick."

"Excuse you!?" Illuso snapped, instantly distracted from his previous thought process.

"What? Just giving the kid a heads up." Formaggio's amusement was evident in his voice. Illuso had reacted as expected. Next to him, Giorno looked from one adult to the other. The mood had changed suddenly and he was left watching from the sidelines. He could tell Formaggio was messing with him. There was something between them, but Giorno had no clue as to what.

Illuso grounded out a growl. Suddenly, his anger dissipated quickly as it came. He gave a haughty huff and relaxed, putting a hand to his hip a smirk taking its place on his lips. "Well, with all your free time you'll be more than available to be a babysitter."

Giorno felt himself tense up apprehensively as Formaggio went ridged next to him. His placid expression changed to an irate frown and brows creased together. A snide grin now formed between Illuso's thin lips. Giorno lowered his head, he could see the signs of an argument waiting to happen. Jaws clenched shut, Formaggio glared at the taller assassin with restrained aggravation.

"Just telling the truth." Illsuo said in a mocking. Fromaggio glowered at him, which only served to grow the other's grin. Both hands on his hips he leered, "With how useless your stand is the Boss hasn't given you any work in a month!"

"You realize, you're proving my point, right?" Formaggio countered with a renewed grin. His rival gawked at the indignity while the other settled with a relaxed grin of victory. Illuso shifted where he was, attempting to dig up an effective retort to no avail. A begrudging moment later the taller released a conceding sigh. Grin in full effect he ruffled Giorno's hair, who was a touch confused by yet another mood change. "Probably shouldn't get into a spat in front of the kid, ya'know? Don't wanna get on leader's bad side."

Momentarily, Illuso's eyes became a fraction wider. Quickly this was put aside, in favor of the return of skepticism. He crossed his arms on his upper abdomen and looked the boy over. He pointed a finger at him, "This, is leader's kid?"

"That's right." Formaggio affirmed.

He looks nothing like Risotto. Hair, eyes, face, nothing...but, I don't know what the mother looks like...However, he does carry that same neutral air. In the end, Illuso's thoughts became undecided. The more he looked at the kid the more he seemingly spotted similarities, added with the unknown of the mother's appearance. He flicked one of his ponytail's over his shoulder and excused his own thoughts with a scoff, "Sure. So, what's your actual name?"

"Giorno Giovanna." The child answered readily.

"How old are you exactly? About ten?" Illuso questioned. This got Formaggio to look to him, he wasn't sure of that either.

"I'm nine." Like any other kid, he held up a matching number of fingers to show this. Though he lacked any excitement of being close to the guessed age. It was a simple fact, nothing less or more.

Another question was administered soon after. "You are aware of what we do right?"

Giorno could see the taller assassin was ready to spot any form of weakness from him. His gaze was hard, judging. It wasn't unwelcoming as it was critical. He was trying to sus out whether he'd be an issue down the line. His own age in mind, Giorno could understand this and had expected as much. While he kept a stoic expression, Illuso did come off as more intimidating than the friendlier demeanor of Formaggio. It took him a moment longer to speak than Giorno liked. "Your hitmen. You kill people for money."

While Illuso examined the boy's expression, Formaggio uttered a dismissive "tsk". Illuso's red eyes turned to him as he matter-of-factly questioned his teammate. "Did you really think leader would waltz this kid in here, without telling him? Come'on, does Risotto look like someone who'd even slightly sugarcoat something?"

While that was true, Illuso had caught the slight hesitation in the boy's answer. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another voice.

"Wow, you two managing to talk without even breaking into an argument? Now there's a sight." Gelato commented amusedly as he walked down the steps with an assortment of sandwiches on a tray. Each of his steps were punctuated by a faint creak from the wooden stairs. He continued more casually, "I felt that the rest of us would show soon, so I made more."

Eager, Formaggio sat up and watched the tray get set on the long coffee table, more than ready to take his share. Lined one beside anther was three, foot-long, deli sandwiches and a large kitchen knife. Off to the other side was what looked to be a small pile of cloth napkins, folded neatly on top of each other. Formaggio reached a hand out to grab the knife. "Let me cut them up for you-"

Out of nowhere a completely different knife stabbed into the tray, just barely a hair's width from the hitman's hand!

"Holy Sh-!" Formaggio exclaimed, jumping back in surprise, his hand flung back as if stricken by something hot. His pupils shrank when he looked up and saw Gelato leering down at him with a dark, yet seemingly sweet smile. Formaggio withheld the urge to gulp, he knew that look. The usual demeanor had cracked. Still standing, Illuso flicked his gaze back to the child to gauge his reaction. Naturally Giorno was shocked into wide-eyed, stillness. To this, the mirror assassin frowned.

The callously smooth tone from Gelato sent sharp chills through both of the two on the couch. "The last time I let you cut the portions-you nearly took half of one for yourself."

Formaggio recovered quickly, clearly used to this drastic mood swing from the blond. If anything, he acted as if the dangerous undertone was a simple annoyance. "I've got a big appetite! Okay?"

"Sure, it's not due to boredom from lack of work?" Illuso chipped in smugly. Formaggio's eye twitched in annoyance. He knew the mirror user wasn't about to let this go until he got a job, even then he'd brag about how many more hits he got. Still, he wasn't going to take it silently.

"Least my stand isn't so specific." Formaggio fired back with a smirk.

"Least my stand isn't useless." Hissed Illuso.

Gelato's previous threatening demeanor seemed to vanish in the wake of the spat between the two rival hitmen. He smiled to himself, humming, as he quietly cut the sandwiches up into proper portions. Quick, precise, cuts resulted in nine pieces. The back and forth was still going as he half-wrapped in a napkin, rounded the table and offered it to Giorno. Knife incident fresh in his mind, young Giorno looked up at the blond questioningly. Either Gelato didn't care, or thought of his action as normal, as he not only didn't explain himself, but instead remarked on the in-progress argument.

"Here, a show is best enjoyed with food." He remarked with mirth before he took up a wrapped sandwich himself. Giorno watched him, food in hand, attempting to make some sense of the dramatic mood shift. Gelato sat himself on the arm of the couch, arm propped on the back, as he observed Formaggio and Illuso sling insults at each other. It was like he was watching his favorite show play out live right in front of him.

Giorno gradually pulled his eyes off of him, then to his sandwich and back to the two in front of them. By the time Gelato had handed it to him, Formaggio had gotten to his feet as if it'd give him an extra edge in arguing. Having no means to diffuse the confrontation, Giorno began to quietly eat and observe the two. He took no amusement from it, but he hoped to figure the reason for the two's prickly relationship.

"I come back unscathed from my missions. Can you say the same?"

"I don't hide in a safety room, unlike you!"

"That doesn't make your work any less sloppy! You know leader has been getting onto you about that!"

"And you know he's been getting on you for being difficult to work with!"

"Would you both shut the hell up!" A loud authoritative voice drew everyone's attention to the stairs. There two new members had arrived.

One was an adult, blond hair tied back into small single braids, that wore a two-piece, dark purple suit that had a lighter purple spiderweb motif of sorts, around his neck was a heavy, solid pendant. Behind him was what looked to be either a teenager, or a young adult, Giorno wasn't sure which. He looked muscular for his age, though his barrel-chested body and arms didn't seem to match the same body somehow. His hair was a green sprout at the center of his scalp. Oddly his demeanor looked more sheepish than the other hitmen, outwardly inexperienced. This caused Giorno to be curious towards this younger member. However, something about the other's appearance felt familiar.

"Prosciutto!" Formmaggio exclaimed in surprise. He hadn't even heard the front door to the home open.

"Can't you two ever be left alone without breaking into a goddamned argument?" Prosciutto snapped irately while he briskly walked down the stairs. He glared at the two, formerly, arguing hitmen like they were ill-behaved children. Illuso handled this with a thinly-veiled annoyance while Formaggio was indignant. Teeth bared, Proscuitto added, "This rivalry of yours is becoming a pain in the ass to deal with. I'm tired of hearing the same thing every other day!"

All of his steam effectively vented, Formaggio flopped back onto the couch and took up a sandwich. "Yeah, yeah."

Illuso's response was to give the blond a sharp look before averting his gaze, a huff slipping out of his mouth. Prosciutto returned the look before he looked to Giorno, who Formaggio sat beside again. The agitated expression shifted to one of surprised recognition, then to something else. He shifted his light-blue eyes upstairs but whatever he was thinking was shelved momentarily. A few strides later, he stood on the other side of the table from Giorno.

"Hey kid, it's been a while." Prosciutto stated, much to the surprise of everyone present. The boy looked the man over more intently, a memory was just out of reach. A helpful prod was given to him by the hitman. "I was with Risotto once we he shot that guy, for selling to kids and women."

Giorno's mind was flung back to the last time he'd seen Risotto before his absence. Now, he recalled Prosciutto. He'd been the one that pulled out a gun when the kid had tried, and failed, to exact revenge for his father. He recalled that he'd been eager to see Risotto and attempted to approach him, but he'd been all but ignored in an attempt to keep distance between them. Prosciutto had actually been the one to question his approach, naturally as they'd just killed a man. The gunshot had been heard by everyone on the street, so to move closer, rather than run away was rather peculiar.

"Remember now?" The question was mostly rhetorical, Prosciutto could see the recognition strengthen. Giorno nodded. That out of the way the hitman moved onto common courtesy. "Seeing as I already know your name." He pointed to himself. "Prosciutto Viola. This is my fratellino, Pesci Verde."

The bulkier young man was surprised by the sudden attention being drawn to him. He flinched and then seemed unsure how to respond. He fidgeted momentarily then gave a brisk wave to the child. His behavior confused Giorno, he couldn't be a hitman, but he dismissed the oddity in favor of the familiar person before him.

"What are you doing here? Did Risotto bring you in?" Prosciutto questioned. Memory in mind, Giorno gathered that they were likely friends, or at least good cohorts, and as such he already had a good idea of what happened and why. While Giorno was going to answer, Formaggio did it for him.

"Yeah, leader's upstairs talking to Sorbet. He told Gelato and me to keep an eye on him." He offhandedly motioned towards the kitchen area. Formaggio then gestured amusedly towards Giorno and snickered. "He killed GioGio's dad. Guy must've ticked him off, dumbass. Kid's been taking it like a champ!"

"That so?" Prosciutto mused. The kid certainly looked collected, if not a bit tense. Circumstances considered, he agreed, he was taking this well. He then asked Formaggio whether or not Giorno knew what they were about. The answer being yes was none too surprising either. This made the boy's mostly calm demeanor more impressive. Prosciutto smirked, hands in his pocket. "Got to say, I agree, you are taking this well. Most would shit themselves being in a den of murderers. Props to you."

Giorno perked at the praise. He then blinked when Prosciutto turned on his heel and headed upstairs. This, of course, resulted in questioning looks from the others and was explained as he left. "I'm going talk to Risotto. Don't eat my share."

"To start things, I'll come up with a test to gauge his strengths and weaknesses." Sorbet stated, while already beginning to type something up on the computer. His typing was precise and rapid fire. By the time he finished speaking more than half a page was written up.

Seeing his subordinate already so invested and enthusiastic, was a welcomed sight. Risotto nodded, hand on the back of the chair as he watched words appear on screen. "I'll give you a portion from my cut as payment. We'll work out a number before he begins. I want Giorno to settle first."

"Understood." His interest in the task seemed subtly heightened at the prospect of monetary gain, through an upward perk of his lip's edge. It was pleasantly pleased smile. His time was being valued as it should be. His time not being valued, as Sorbet felt should be, was something he was always vocal about. If a hit wasn't priced correctly, he'd at least remark on it. Though, with the plentiful season they were having currently, Sorbet was satiated.

"Has the Boss messaged about payment for your hit?" Their conversation about to end, Sorbet felt he may as we ask.

"Yes, the money will be transferred shortly. Clean up isn't a factor in this hit." While the Boss would have the cleanup crew handle things, he did have a limit on how much he'd cover. Too much blood, evidence left behind, property damage (if it mattered), or collateral lives lost would be deducted from pay. Risotto wasn't bothered by this, his stand could…leave quite the mess, but his men were split on the factor. It wasn't an issue most of the time and thereby dismissed generally.

Sorbet nodded. His attention shifted when Prosciutto appeared in the doorway. They'd heard the arrival earlier, but where still in mid-conversation. With the recent addition and the focus on him, Risotto knew what this was about.

"You want to speak with me?" He formally asked.

"Yeah, one on one." Prosciutto nodded his head further down the hall, towards the stairs that led to the second floor.

Short while later, Prosciutto and Risotto stood in the guest room. Window open the blond had a cigarette in hand as he offered one from the box to Risotto. Not in the mood, it was declined, Prosciutto shrugged and lit his.

"Care to tell me what happened with the kid's father?" His tone suggested he had an idea, but wanted to hear it from Risotto himself. Prosciutto leaned out the window, letting the smoke waft away from the home. Gelato smoked, but Sorbet couldn't stand the smell. This not being his home, Prosciutto was courteous with his habit.

Sat on the other end of the windowsill, Risotto responded, "You won't take him simply breaking our deal, will you?"

Prosciutto irately scoffed, "Don't start with that bull."

He looked out at the rest of the city before them. It was later in the afternoon people were beginning to return to their homes. Things were winding down. At least for the average citizen. Night was when the underworld came more alive, particularly for a group such as them. At the moment; however, work was done.

"Think after all these years, I know you wouldn't jump to killing a kid's damn father-of all things. Even if he was a poor excuse for one." Prosciutto expanded tone still mildly heated from the mere idea of an attempted excuse. He scoffed then threw a pointed look at his friend, cigarette pointed to him. The end still aglow with embers, it severed to draw the hitman leader's eyes to it. Prosciutto jabbed the tube in his direction a couple of times, emphasizing his want for a genuine answer. "What's the real reason?"

Risotto gave a long exhale. "I lost my temper."

Surprise quickly melted away to understanding. Prosciutto took another drag before further commenting, tone wryly amused, "Yeah, that's about what I thought." Risotto didn't respond further, not wanting to elaborate. He didn't need to. Prosciutto knew him well enough to know it took something specifically personal to genuinely set him off. Risotto's background known to the smoker, plus the fact he'd been upset over his lapse in memory, Prosciutto could piece things together. He also knew something else was bothering him about the situation. Something they didn't agree on. "You know what him being here means, right?"

"You're aware of my stance on that." There was a stiff edge Risotto's tone now, suggesting he wasn't about to budge.

"Tch, and I'm not suggesting to give the kid a gun right away." Prosciutto snapped. "What I'm saying is, he's going to join eventually. You, yourself, already noticed that he's interested because you stepped into his life. Made it better. Being here is giving him what he wants by proxy, and you know this."

His concern laid out before him Risotto was forced to face it. "Yes, there's no denying that. As I have with Pesci, I will not allow him to join until he's an adult. It's the least I can do to preserve what's left of his innocence."

Prosciutto didn't remark further. Far as he was concerned someone could join when able. He'd been in the mafia since birth essentially, it was his life, his heritage. When they'd met, he'd already been at home in the underworld. His father had taught him as he taught Pesci. Illegal or not, it was like any other job. However, he respected Risotto as their leader and wasn't about to question his decisions on how to raise his ward.

Author's Note:

This story is set to update monthly, but seeing as this is the second half of a chapter, and my irl job has cut back hours, I decided to update early. The next update will be in a month though. Hope you enjoy it. I went back and edited a few errors in chapter 1.

Originally this was going to have a bit more happen, but I felt it was going to drag things out and this was just Giorno's introduction to the group so no need to. I wanted Giorno to be a bit younger, but that'd throw off Risotto's backstory time line so I had to go with nine. Next chapter will have year skip ahead and start an important mission that will gather the last two members~

Gelato is the most unhinged member of the group...

Can anyone guess who the new Abbacchio will be?

I should also mention that I do respond to guest reviews in my author notes!