"I never thought I'd change my
Opinion again
But you moved me in a way that I've
Never known"
"You're here early Formaggio." Gelato said as he went over to greet him in the main hall, hand placed on the pale, blue-green wall as he leaned against it. He perked when the red-head held up his cellphone, showing a text sent to him by Risotto. Gelato moved closer and read it before he grinned eagerly. "Oh, a group meeting for a mission. It's been too long since we've needed a group effort to get something done! Can't wait to hear the details."
Formaggio put his phone away with a bemused snort. "You would be, you pscyho."
A crooked, toothy grin affixed itself on the blond hitman's face. Already anticipating the future kills, he didn't deny the remark. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying one's work. Is there?"
"Is such a thing as being too into something." His cohort remarked as he moved past him. He looked off towards the makeshift class room. "GioGio, is here right?"
Pulled from his red stained thoughts, Gelato's expression returned to being casual. "Of course, they're just about to wrap things up. By the time leader arrives they'll be done." He followed Formaggio as he headed to the living room. The room lightly bathed in the soon to be afternoon light. The light grey couch was bookend by to side tables and fronted by a provincial stained coffee table. Around the room was various potted plants grown by Gelato himself, which, in all honesty, he treated like his children. Some were ferns others were taller tropical green leaves like birds of paradise plants. While indoors it was almost like a wild garden.
"Even with how much love has up the difficulty he's taking it in stride." Gelato looked up and sighed wistfully. "Really, if leader had told us about him sooner, I would've taken him in myself. Such a bright sweet boy didn't deserve to be with sacs of crap for parents."
Formaggio dropped himself onto the couch and chuckled. "I'm surprised you haven't gone to off the bitch."
Seat taken next to him, Gelato thought back. "Actually, I asked if he wanted me to and he said no." A noise mixed between a laugh and a choke came from his companion. As Formaggio coughed, trying to gather himself, Gelato innocently asked, "What?"
"You don't just ask a kid that!" Formaggio wheezed with a big grin.
"I wanted to respect his wishes, so I had to ask!" Gelato huffed. A hand placed defensively on the center of his chest.
"Okay, you got a point there." Admitted his friend while he lightly shooed away Gelato's irritation with his hands. Formaggio snorted amusedly. "Still. What a thing to ask a ten-year-old. Only you'd do that." He pointed to the blond with a playful smirk. Gelato wasn't so impressed by his teasing. Arms crossed behind his head, Formaggio asked, "Why'd GioGio want her spared? Just cause she's his Mom?"
Irritation lingered a moment longer before focus returned to the moment in question. A thoughtful look in hazel eyes, Gelato recanted, "Sort of."
"When the madness stops then you
Will be alone"
It was a sunny day, Giorno was on a break from his schooling and offered to help Gelato with his garden work. Touched by the child's offer the hitman gladly accepted. He uprooted weeds, then pruned bushes while Giorno watered his herbs and vegetables. As he evened out the edges of a rose bush, he looked to the boy. Giorno moved about with the water pail, looking plenty happy to carry out his simple task. It'd taken time but layers of his protective shell had been shed to let his youthful playfulness shine through.
However, the fact that the boy had to regain something that was natural, stoked the embers of murderous intent. Gelato cared little for others outside of his circle, his family, but anyone who messed with those dear to him were on the chopping block. He'd done so to the one that dared to ruin the life of his beloved Sorbet. That time though, Gelato hadn't done it himself. This time around he was more able to do so.
Even still, he tempered himself. This was a personal matter not his own. Assumptions would be disastrous.
"Giorno." His call got the boy to look to him. Gelato paused his work and looked back to him, expression nondescript. "Would you like your mother to pay for the way she treated you? Or rather lack thereof?"
In an instant the boy's expression went pale. Before any further fear could show itself, he covered it up with empty indifference. The same expression he often wore when first getting used to the squadron. Gelato noted this but let the boy speak. "No." Giorno went back to his task, likely to further hide his expression. "She may have not acted like a mother to me, but she still is my mother. She did nothing for me, so it's fair I do the same."
Gelato found himself in a moment of wonder from what Giorno said. It was clear he'd put some thought into the subject of his mother. No wonder why, but the result still surprised him.
"I told him I understood and we left it at that. He perked right back up by the time I finished with the roses." Gelato wrapped up. He observed as Formaggio rolled around what he'd heard inside his head.
"So basically," He began. Abruptly he held his hand out in the air, as if mid chop. "He said she's not worth the effort."
"Basically." Clicked Gelato.
Formaggio faintly shook his head with an amused huff. "He is something."
The two idled around by watching the in-room television, which sat on a stand with two hutches beside it that housed more plants and framed photographs, and a mix of chatter. Nothing too entertaining was on. A short while later, Formaggio tilted his head to peer into the hall when he heard a pair of footsteps leaving the study. As expected, Giorno and Sorbet were heading over to them. Once Giorno noticed him he brightened and briskly hurried over to the red-jacketed hitman.
"Formaggio!" He greeted once he made his way over to the couch. The man showed his appreciation by ruffling his hair. Shortly behind him came in Sorbet, who stood by the entertainment center.
"Hey GioGio, finally growing out of that god-awful haircut." Formaggio noted. The formerly shaved back of his head now had a scruffiness to it and his bangs were brushed off to the left side. Giorno beamed at the notice and nodded. Formaggio raised a brow inquiringly. "Any idea what you're going to do with it?"
Giorno mused over this a moment then smiled widely. Excitement bubbled in his voice as he answered, "I always wanted a braided ponytail!"
"Huh, going to take a longer length to do that. But hey, go for it." Formaggio hadn't figured anything in particular but it was clear the boy had his mind set on this. Wasn't his hair, so whatever. He gave a slight shrug. "Anyway, I got something for you."
Quickly the look of excitement was positively brimming in the child's wide eyes. He looked over the hitman's person in attempt to try and locate his gift. The jittery excitement from Giorno was enough to earn a brief laugh from Formaggio. From one of his back pants pockets he presented the boy with a switchblade. Then handle was black wood covering save for the silver button and other metal fasteners that held it together.
"A switchblade?" Giorno guessed as he looked at the folded weapon.
Formaggio could see this wasn't exactly what the kid had expected. He'd learn to appreciate a more practical gift. He pressed the silver button on the side and in flash a nine-inch, flung out suddenly enough that the boy jumped. Once Giorno soon settled and looked at the stiletto blade with fascination. Formaggio moved onto another demonstration. He pressed his thumb on the lever at the base of the blade. Then, with his fore and index fingers, he smoothly swung the knife back into its resting place. A soft click, indicated the dangerous tool was safely secured.
"That's, how you close it." Formaggio stated before he flipped the weapon over in hand. The metal end faced towards him, Giorno took the offered gift. Finger pointed to the kid, the hitman and spoke more firmly. "If you're going to be around us. You should have something to defend yourself with. Seeing as you don't have a stand."
Now with an explanation Giorno was less perplexed and nodded. "Thank you."
"Not a problem, GioGio." Replied Formaggio.
"What are you doing here so early?" Sorbet's leveled voice drew the red-head's attention away from the boy. He motioned a tapered hand over to the wooden framed, circular clock that hung above the television. "You usually arrive around six to seven."
Briefly the younger hitman was confused by his lack of knowing. Typically, Sorbet was on top of messages from their leader. Soon after; however, he recalled he'd just been schooling the group's collective ward. "Risotto called us all in for a group meeting, we got a big mission on our hands."
At this mention, Sorbet pulled his cell from out of his pocket. He clicked it awake and saw he did indeed have a message. "I see."
"I'll get to readying something for when the others arrive. I left my phone in the kitchen anyway." Gelato casually said as he began to saunter off. Sorbet followed right after him, saying that he'd help. Amused, he called back to the two left in the living room. "Your uncle will watch you now, GioGio!"
"Uncle?" Giorno parroted before he looked back to said man.
Formaggio likewise seemed amused by his new title and rolled with it. "Yeah, unlce Formaggio! Been over a week since we've last seen each other let's catch up kiddo! Kick back and chat before Risotto gets here." He was surprised by how elated Giorno got. Formaggio thought he'd be happy but he didn't expect the kid to jump onto the couch and hug him. Arms raised up to accommodate the boy Formaggio uttered, "Woah!"
A while after, the kid settled down and got out some paper and crayons, formerly kept somewhere in the study, to draw with. Formaggio sat back and watched the kid go to work on whatever it was he set out to draw. He'd asked but Giorno didn't tell him what it was, saying he wasn't done yet. When he laid on the black and yellow though, well it gave away what, or rather who, he was drawing. Formaggio kept quiet though. No need to burst the kid's bubble over something like this.
However, the mention of him being his 'uncle' brought about a question.
"Hey, GioGio, your father, he was your step-dad, right?" He inquired, much to the boy's confusion. He only nodded as he tried to figure where this was headed. "Do you know who your biological father is?"
Giorno put his crayons down for the moment. "Well, I have a picture with his name on it." He pulled his backpack, that laid by the table where he was coloring, over to him. A quick reach into the bag produced a plain brown wallet. Giorno shifted where he sat to face Formaggio and he passed it to the adult. "It's the only photo in there."
Curiosity peaked, Formaggio flipped the wallet open and took at the look inside. Where the ID would normally be placed was a rather strange photo. The typical portrait style photo, family group, or couple was not present. Instead Giorno's biological father, was faced away from the viewer, countenance mostly obscured by shadow. The only thing Formaggio could see was he was blonde, red-eyes, and very muscular.
Holy shit, this bastard is ripped as hell. Also, what a weird photo to leave. Some sort of glamor shot? Oddness aside Formaggio looked at the name signed in red ink. "DIO, huh?"
Formaggio handed the wallet back to Giorno. "So, what's the story between him and your Mom?"
Giorno hummed to himself and went back to working on the picture. "Mom didn't really know him. They met one night and had a 'one-night stand' and that was it. All he left behind was that photo."
"Oh, that sort of thing." Formaggio awkwardly remarked. Wasn't too uncommon, but he couldn't really say much considering he didn't know this DIO guy. Far as he knew the man didn't know he had a kid. He rubbed his neck then offered, "You could ask Sorbet to look into it. He's the one that usually digs around for information for us."
This got Giorno to stop and look back to him. A bit of hope in his light green eyes. "You think he could?"
"Yeah, far as I've seen there's nothing he can't find out." Formaggio stated self-assuredly.
Giorno felt his certainty rub off on him and gave the idea more thought. He hadn't ever thought there being any chance to learn more about his biological father. His mother didn't even know his last name. All he knew was they met somewhere in Egypt. He didn't look Egyptian so Giorno felt he was a tourist similar to his mother. At worst nothing could be found out. It couldn't hurt to ask, he supposed.
The sound of the front door opening pulled Giorno away from his thoughts. A familiar stride caused his expression to light up. He immediately dropped what he was doing and hurried over to greet the new arrival to the home.
When the child rounded the corner into the main hall, Formaggio leaned towards the coffee table to get a better look at the crayon picture. Upon seeing what it was he picked it up and began to snickered a little to himself. Much as he wanted show the others, he'd let the kid finish it first.
"Welcome back." Giorno greeted.
La Squadra's leader halted when the ten-year-old latched onto his leg. This had become routine after Giorno began his tutelage under Sorbet. It was a surprise the first time, not the sort of greeting he'd received prior. By now it was the norm. He reached down and patted the boy's head. "How did today's lesson go, Giorno?" When he spotted something in his hand he asked, "Why do you have a switchblade?"
"It went well." Giorno pulled back and held the sheathed weapon in both hands out in front of him for his caretaker to see. "Formaggio, gave it to me as a gift."
The explanation was taken with a nod.
"I'll show you how to use it when we arrive home." Risotto said as he moved past the boy. It was unconventional, to put lightly, to let a child have such a weapon, but with his way of life better safe than sorry. He'd been meaning to get Giorno some means to defend himself, but had been caught up in his balancing act of seeing to the child's other needs met and team management. Once he was a bit older, he'd teach Giorno how to use a gun.
Soon as Risotto moved past him, Giorno followed suit. Promise of being taught how to use his new weapon caused him to perk up. He'd wonder if the hitman would teach him how fight and the confirmation was duly noted. To achieve his dream, Giorno wanted to learn all that he could from the squadron leader. Along with asking Sorbet if he could find anything out about his biological father, he'd ask Risotto what else he'd be willing to teach him.
"What's this big mission we're taking on leader?" Formaggio eagerly question when the two arrived in the living room.
"I'll explain once the others arrive." Risotto responded. He disliked repeating himself, when he could save himself the unneeded extra effort by explaining it to them all in one go.
His subordinate sighed. "Yeah, I figured as much."
Giorno went back to working on his picture. He sat on his knees as he switched to a yellow crayon. His switchblade put safely away in his school bag.
The commotion in the kitchen let Risotto know that Sorbet and Gelato were at work making something for the meeting. He sat himself down on the seat next to his subordinate and watched his ward color away on his paper. Formaggio flipped the TV to the news. The station was going on about the usual, weather, politics, drug issues, and the local crime syndicates fighting with one another. Currently there was a spike in the turf wars with Passione's rise to the top. Old gangs weren't taking kindly to that.
"Thank you for the gift you gave Giorno." Risotto thanked suddenly. Enough so that it took a moment for his cohort to process what had been said to him. It was shrugged off.
"I had an extra and figured you'd get the kid one eventually. No biggie." Formaggio said casually. He looked to the boy, still focused on his picture, and questioned. "You going to be taking him home, or letting him sit in on our meeting? Cause I'm pretty sure what we're going to be talking about isn't kid friendly."
"Neither." The answer was got Formaggio to turn his head to his leader. "It'd be negligent to leave him home alone. He'll stay up here while we conduct our meeting." Then in a firmer tone, Risotto addressed his ward. "Understand Giorno?"
The boy looked back and nodded.
"Good."
"I'm glad that everyone was able to make it in time for this meeting." Risotto began as he stood before his collected subordinates. There was a brief mutter of it being no issue from his men then quiet. "As you've no doubt heard, the other gangs in Napoli have been attempting to strike back. By way of learning about stands." A uniform confirmation. Risotto sat himself down on the head chair, before he continued on, "Today I met with capo Polpo, and he informed me how La Meravigli have been going about that. They've been offing low ranking members and taking their children."
"Holy shit." Formaggio gaped. The sentiment seemed to be shared amongst the others. He brushed a hand across the side of his head. "How the hell will that get them anywhere?" His gritted his teeth in a stiff scowl. "Aside from pissing the Boss and the rest of the gang off?"
"Have any ransoms been made?" Illuso questioned as he lounged against the side of his chair's arm.
"None that I've been informed of." Risotto responded.
"Someone must've told them that stands can be inherited down a family line." Prosciutto guessed, he looked to their leader for confirmation.
"Capo Polpo, does believe that a traitor is involved. As for why they are doing this, it's likely because it'd be easier to get information from them." The information refocused the other back onto their black clad leader, a sterner expression on their faces. Traitors were a serious business in the families. Especially so in Passione with their enigmatic boss who valued secrets highly. There was no tolerance for such things. Numerous times they'd been sent to deal with such individuals. They were the problem solvers. This was one of their main problems to fix. "Our job is to find the locations were their holding these children. Kill any members of La Meravigli present, boss wants to leave the corpses to send a message."
Formaggio looked to Sorbet and Gelato, who once again shared a seat, with a grin. "What'd I tell you?"
Gelato giggled to himself. "You were right there."
Risotto ignored this and continued. "If we find any evidence of a traitor, we're to do away with them as well."
Uncertainly Pesci spoke up. "What about the kids? What're we going to do with them?"
The question caused a moment of pause among the group. Illuso put an end to the hold up with a groan, "Don't tell me we're actually going to become babysitters."
Risotto gave the mirror stand user a brief look before he answered. "I'm uncertain at the moment. We'll likely need to send them to their next of kin or affiliates of their parents. I'll check in with capo. At the latest, we'll receive a message from boss on what to do." He straightened himself and clasped his hands together on his lap. "Regardless, here's the plan."
The other hitman straightened themselves attentively, some more eagerly than others. A big mission would rake in the money and favor from the boss. This was the biggest mission they'd been given to date. This would further push their position of being elites among Passione. Meaning more money and respect. This could possibly be a push towards gaining their own territory. If that happened, their leader would become capo. Best efforts had to be put into this, beginning with paying attention to their tasks.
"God, don't you know that I live with a ton
Of regret?"
Sometime later, Giorno sat on the couch reading a book on reptiles. He'd finished with his picture a good while ago but he got the feeling the adults would be discussing their plans for a couple hours at least. He was tempted to try and sit by the top of the stairs to try and eavesdrop, but he a got the feeling that wouldn't slip by Risotto's notice. The hitman team in general was very perceptive, to varying degrees, but he hadn't been able to walk behind them without their notice. He'd tried a couple of times with Risotto, out of curiosity to see if he could, but never came close. Giorno was also certain that his guardian wouldn't be happy with the attempt. Risotto had been far better to him than his father-in-law, but hadn't budge on his stance of keeping him distant from direct involvement.
Why is he so strict about keeping from the gang, if he's a part of it? Giorno wondered as he looked back to the pages of his book. He supposed it was a personal ethics, but that just brought the question to why he had that belief. The gang itself didn't seem too picky. He'd seen children barely older than himself being a part of gangs. That brought about the question of how his guardian felt about that. Can't be good. Giorno wasn't sure when he'd get answer to this question. It felt too personal to ask.
However, Giorno felt he'd get the answer eventually. He was staying with him after all. More than likely he'd learn when he pressed to join. The fact that Risotto was trying to keep him safe from this dangerous life brought a touched smile to his face. It faltered. Anxiety cropping up in his stomach. Lightly Giorno bit the inside of his lip. He prayed that this wouldn't put a wedge between him and his caretaker. On the other hand, if things worked out, them working together, Giorno couldn't think of anything better.
"Sorry for the wait Giorno." Risotto's voice came up from the stairwell. His arrival caused Giorno to quickly put his book away into his backpack. The picture picked up as he passed the table.
"It's okay. I had my book." Giorno said, brushing off the apology. He then held up the picture for Risotto to see. "I made this for you."
A look of surprise on his face, Risotto took up the picture. This was the first time the child had made anything for him since he'd come under his care. Gifts weren't something eh often got either. Not due to a lack of comradery from his men. More so because he didn't ever make mentions of want for things. This left it a bit of a conundrum to guess what interest he had outside of his job or things he didn't already have.
The picture itself, was a simple cartoon-like depiction of his face. Hat and all. The face rounded and eyes large and shaped like half circles. Expression his nearly ever-present, neutrality. The detail of the letters on his hat were even in the right order. His silver hair achieved through coating white over the grey. Decidedly it was cute and showed talent for the craft.
"Wow, he really nailed your personality." Remarked Prosciutto as he filed up from the downstairs room. An amused smirk on his face. Behind him Pesci stifled a snicker by covering his mouth with his hands.
"Art really does imitate life." Formaggio chipped in with a big grin. The expected reaction from the others was really what'd he'd hoped for. Good nature amusement.
Risotto of course responded with only a sigh of acceptance. He took the remarks as they came and responded to Giorno. "Thank you, Giorno."
"Are you going to put it up on the fridge?" Gelato cheekily questioned.
"Yes." Risotto's curt response deflated the prior's amusement. It did encourage a coo of endearment from the blond. Once the others got a chance to see the picture and comment, it was neatly folded and put away in a coat pocket. The day having turned to night, Risotto headed to the front door. "Giorno, it's time for us to head home. You need to get to bed."
"Wait, I want to ask Sorbet about something." His guardian arced a brow to this but allowed the boy to go speak with his subordinate who looked equally questioning.
As he dazed in and out of consciousness, concept of time only vaguely present, he managed to register of one of them entering his prison. This achieved by the brief reprieve of cold gracing his skin. The heavy door grated shut. He was hand fed some kind of soup. It was milk warm. Too out of it to really register the flavor. His unsympathetic handler spat the same nonsense that, if he was just more cooperative, then things would be easier on him. He only gave him a resentful glare, and then promptly bit his hand. The taste of blood more readily recognized.
A clatter of plastic. Then he smelled his own blood after being punched in the face. He ignored the explicatives shot at him. Head hung low, he only continued to glare. His defiance won out and with a thunderous slam, he was left alone again.
Never, ever, would he submit to these bastards. Give them what they wanted. He didn't care if it'd be the end of him. Just to spite them. Especially that backstabbing bastard. Especially him.
He hadn't seen or heard him since they tossed him into this hell hole. Coward. He'd better hide from him after what he'd did to his arm.
He'd trusted him.
"But you've hurt me in a way that I've
Never known"
Author's Note:
So sorry for being late on uploading this! I was experiencing a bit of block on the latter half of this, primarily the last scene, as well as a procrastination rut. I'm working on being more productive so I'll try and keep on this and keep the next update on time. I
Originally I was going to have Giorno's Mom killed off eventually. But after running it by some friends, I realized there was no logical way of doing it without it being forced. She literally wasn't worth the effort lol. I also originally wanted to address the DIO photo sooner during the second chapter but I didn't like how it diverted the chapter. Then I tried to address it during the Children of Cain chapters but there was already so much going on. So here it is now. In the manga it's just a headshot of DIO but I found the anime version funny lol.
We'll be getting to the La Squadra members chapters next! First up will be Gelato & Sorbet. Have fun trying to guess the names of their stands and abilities! I've left clues as to them. Both names will be from the same band. I'm not basing them off of any other versions (least not intentionally). Also reference to ReversalSun's "Story of Assassins" in this ch.