Chapter Text
Mere days ago, Giorno Giovanna met Bruno Bucciarati by chance or by fate. The two had fought then forged an alliance against the backdrop of the city of Naples, a pact that they would either take over Italy's most powerful criminal enterprise, Passione, or die trying. They made this promise high above the city, at a landing that offered splendid views of both Naples and the coast, their words witnessed only by a calico cat that now sat on his windowsill, gazing through the glass at the outside world. After a few minutes, the cat gracefully jumped from her spot to join Giorno, who was reclining on his bed feeling anything but relaxed. The cat poked her head directly into his field of vision and meowed once at him before turning around to place her front paws on his abdomen, pressing down on it experimentally before laying her head on it as well. Idly, fingers reached over to scratch her just behind her head.
Giorno was not completely aware of what he was doing, his mind distracted elsewhere. That morning, Bucciarati had intercepted him when he was on his way to class to tell him that he arranged for Giorno to meet with one of the capos of Passione and Bucciarati's direct superior in two days. Even though Giorno intended to join Bucciarati's team, he had to be vetted and approved by a higher up. The process would involve a test of some kind, but Bucciarati refused to tell him any more, saying that it was too dangerous to discuss that in public. Whether he meant that it was too dangerous to himself, to Giorno, to Passione, to the public, or anyone else, he didn't say. However, because Giorno did not particularly care about to whom the danger was for, he didn't ask him to elaborate. It didn't matter, not to him. Whatever the danger, he was going to go through with it.
But the upcoming interview and trial was not the only thing on his mind. There was a second, equally pressing matter that had his attention and unlike his resolve to undergo Passione's test, he wasn't quite sure what he should do about this one. In Giorno's free hand, he held a cell phone, one with a flip cover and a slide out keyboard, a model that was so new it wasn't even out on the market yet. Giorno had the phone open and against his ear as he pressed a button on the number pad, causing the device to replay the messages sitting in his voicemail.
"I'm coming to Naples. Be there in a few days."
He tapped another button and heard a tone before another message played, the voice belonging to the same person.
"It's me again. I forgot: Polnareff's coming too."
A second voice, accented in French, screeched in the background.
"What do you mean you forgot!?"
With a soft groan, Giorno flipped his phone shut and let it drop onto the mattress beside him. This was not ideal. It was far from ideal. It was a disaster waiting to happen. He knew the caller who had left the message of course: it belonged to Jotaro Kujo, someone whom he cared for very much, but was also someone he absolutely did not want to see in "a few days." Jotaro had said that he was going to come visit in two months. So what made him suddenly decide to change it to now of all times, when Giorno was making his move to get accepted into Passione's ranks? He had called back, of course, leaving a disgruntled message of his own, politely, but very irritably asking Jotaro what was going on and also he needed important information like what day and what time Jotaro and Polnareff were going to arrive.
He hadn't gotten a response back yet.
"Caterina," he said to the cat using his body as a pillow. "I've barely even started my journey and already I'm running into problems."
The cat did not reply or even turn her head towards him. It took a moment for Giorno to realize that she had fallen asleep. Of course, he didn't expect her to understand him in any way: true communication with animals was not a power he possessed, but a part of him was still miffed that she would not even pretend to be a good conversational partner. And now, of course, he couldn't even move, trapped on his own bed by a normal house cat. With limited options left, Giorno ended up closing his eyes. Maybe his predicament wouldn't seem so bad after a nap.
Hours later, as he deftly lifted a tourist's wallet from his backpack, Giorno thought that things didn't seem much better at all.
The task was deceptively simple: keep the lighter lit. Giorno didn't know how this Passione capo, Polpo, was going to be able to tell if the lighter went out or not, but he must have his ways. Giorno wasn't going to question it. What mattered was that he accomplished this task. Failure meant that he wasn't going to be accepted into the gang and it might also mean other unforseeable consequences as well.
Cupping the flame with one hand to shield it from the breeze, Giorno ignored the heat from the lighter. The heat was uncomfortable on his fingers, making him feel like that the very flame he was supposed to protect was threatening to burn him.
Were he not so preoccupied with the task at hand, he would consider whether or not this was some kind of metaphor for his life.
All he needed to do was put the lighter in a safe, secure place where it would be protected from the elements and from other people. Inside his dorm room should do. As he got closer to the dorm grounds, he passed by several people he knew: locals and fellow classmates who said hello to him as he went by. Giorno knew he was being rude hurrying by them and cutting off any and all conversation they wanted to make with him. It was most uncharacteristic of him: he usually stopped a bit to talk or to help people out with simple favors, but it was the utmost priority that he take the lighter to safety. He would apologize to everyone later.
After what seemed like forever, he made it to the steps of the entrance of the building. Just a little bit more and everything would be fine. He could stabilize the lighter and keep it somewhere safe and all he would have to do is wait out the time. He took one step, then another, and another, and-
-suddenly found himself completely drenched. Giorno froze in place, confused and shocked at the sudden chill that washed over his body. Looking back on it later, he would question whether it was from the cold or the fear.
"Goodness! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there!" a voice said. It belonged to someone Giorno knew: the janitor of the building. He didn't know the man's name, but he's seen him around frequently. He was a friendly old man who always waved to the students as they went about their lives. He had been cleaning the outside of the building and by sheer circumstance, the moment he decided to rinse off the steps was when Giorno was going on his way up.
Giorno wasn't listening as he dared to look downward at his hands and nothing could describe the horror he felt when he saw that the lighter's flame had been extinguished. In just a split second, his entire world was crashing down on him. It was the simplest of tests and he's failed it. Polpo would never allow him into Passione now. Immediately, his mind began to race. Maybe there was another way he could join? Perhaps he could find another branch of the organization and try again. But even if he did that, he would be cut off from Bucciarati, someone he knew he needed the help and support of. Whatever he could do, it couldn't be so simple as just relighting the lighter.
"Oh, did your lighter go out?" the janitor asked and the next thing Giorno knew, the lighter was gone from his hands, taken by the janitor. He opened his mouth to say something: to ask for it back, a plea to leave it alone, he didn't know what, but no words came from his mouth. Oblivious, the janitor leaned closer to examine the lighter. "Rather fancy design. Must be expensive. Well, it looks like it's well made. It usually takes more than just a little bit of water to ruin these things. So let's see..." The old man put his thumb on the lighter's switch and pressed down. The flame immediately sparked to life, a phoenix that briefly revived Giorno's hopes. Maybe this was fine. Maybe they wouldn't be able to tell that the lighter had gone out for a moment and was relit.
Hope turned to dread as from the janitor's shadow, Giorno saw a mysterious figure rise from the darkness. The figure was about the same size as a human, but it looked more like a puppet, like a doll that was having its strings pulled by an invisible master. It was dressed in what looked like judge's attire, black and ominous.
A Stand, Giorno realized. He was looking at a Stand. Although he had seen many of them before, it's only just recently that he found himself face to face to unfamiliar and hostile Stands. The Stand grabbed the old man's head with both of its hands and began to speak.
"You relit the lighter, didn't you?"
The janitor stared forward, wide eyed and Giorno couldn't tell if he could either see or hear the figure that held it captive. The Stand itself seemed completely unconcerned as it opened its mouth widely and from inside its body, it protruded some kind of arrow. The arrowhead was golden in color, carved with intricate designs. It looked ornamental, something that should be hanging on a wall rather than actually fired from a bow. Once the arrow had extended past its mouth, the Stand suddenly lunged forward and plunged the arrowhead right into the janitor's body.
The janitor's eyes widened and his mouth fell open in a silent scream. The arrow was merciless, piercing skin and flesh as if it wasn't there at all. Within seconds, the janitor was dead. Whether it was because he was old or if because there was something about that arrow that was just wrong, Giorno didn't know and he had no intention of finding out. The Stand wielding the arrow, however, had other plans as it dropped the janitor's corpse without a second thought and abruptly turned to face him.
"You saw the lighter being relit, didn't you?"
It lunged at him, just barely missing grabbing Giorno by mere centimeters. Stumbling backwards in his haste to avoid getting caught, Giorno nearly lost his footing as he watched the Stand sink into the ground. As much as he would like to think that it was over, that it wouldn't be coming back, he knew that the chances of that being the case were nearly nonexistent. Sure enough, behind him, the Stand appeared once again beside him.
It seemed to come from nowhere, moving about seemingly at random. It was like that it could strike from anywhere and by the time Giorno saw the Stand behind him, he knew it was too late. The Stand grabbed him roughly, one hand snatching his arm and the other clutching his hair in an iron grip. Already, its mouth was open and the arrow was drawn, aimed right between his eyes. Gold Experience was fast, but it wasn't that fast. Before it could strike, Giorno was going to be skewered.
The next thing he knew, however, was that he was suddenly several meters away. Also, somehow, he's been swept off his feet and being carried bridal style. For a fleeting moment, Giorno felt safe and that the position he was in wasn't so bad. With his head still swimming from the sudden change, he looked up to get a glimpse of his savior and then the euphoria was gone.
"Jotaro," he said. "Put me down."
"A thank you would be nice," Jotaro Kujo scolded, glancing down at him briefly. "Or even a hello. You didn't come pick us up the airport."
"You never told me when you were coming!" Giorno snapped back at him, a concoction of fury with Jotaro's inconsiderate behavior and the shame of having to be rescued. "I even left you a message asking for the details. You never replied."
Jotaro let out a grunt of contemplation before finally putting Giorno back down. "Guess I forgot."
Unbelievable.
"Where is Polnareff?"
The question was answered by the sound of metal clashing. Silver Chariot pulled away from the enemy Stand and back towards its master, rapier raised in a defensive stance. Light from the setting sun glinted off Silver Chariot's entire body as it turned its head from side to side, looking for the mysterious Stand that seemed to disappear once more, sinking into the ground.
"Hey, Jotaro," Polnareff drawled, jutting his thumb towards where the Stand was. "This one seems like it's gonna be a pain in the ass."
"Sure looks like it," Jotaro agreed, reaching up with a hand to adjust his hat.
This was a life and death situation, yet the two of them seemed calm, if not slightly annoyed. Giorno realized that this was because the two of them were far more experienced than he was. Jotaro has had his Stand for over a decade and Polnareff's had his since childhood. Both of them have been on perilous quests and they both worked as Stand investigators for the Speedwagon Foundation.
Of course this was just business as usual for them.
"The first thing we have to do," Jotaro said, and even though he was busy watching the area around them, Giorno realized he was the one being spoken to. "is figure out how that thing works."
"How are we supposed to do that when it moves randomly?" Giorno asked.
"It's not random." Jotaro answered immediately. "Random Stands aren't a thing. Not yet anyway. Every Stand has its rules and limits that it needs to follow."
"And how are we supposed to find them out?"
Giorno felt a hand on his back. "Like this." And immediately afterward, he was pushed forward, out into the open. Shortly afterward, he was attacked once again, the black clad Stand surfacing from the ground in front of him reaching to restrain him. This time, however, Giorno was more prepared as Gold Experience manifested to punch the Stand in the face, causing it to recoil back into the ground. Once it was gone, Jotaro was back by his side. "What did we learn?"
"That the rumors are true and you are a bully."
Jotaro shrugged at him. "You're competent enough to protect yourself. Besides, if you were really in danger, I would have saved you." Those words were enough to make Giorno bristle. Everything Jotaro said was true, of course, but that didn't give him the right to use him as a test subject. The worst part was that there wasn't any way that Giorno could argue against it. Jotaro may not speak with eloquence the way Giorno did, but he usually put forward solid, albeit blunt, arguments that were often difficult to refute. He knew, deep down, that Jotaro wouldn't let him come to harm. If Jotaro said he would have saved him, then he would have. Giorno had learned many months ago to trust what Jotaro tells him and so far, his trust has been rewarded. There was no reason to not believe him now. "Anyway, it seems to only be after you. It doesn't even seem to be fully aware that Polnareff and I are here."
Polnareff joined them, a hand raised with one finger pointing upward. "Which means it's likely moving automatically." He put both hands on his hips and puffed his chest outward. "You see, some long range Stands can act on their own without direct orders from their users, but there's restraints on this. They're given a set of instructions and are ordered to follow it. When they encounter a situation that fits what they've been told, they act automatically. It's like programming a computer!"
Jotaro narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "Since when do you know about computer programming?"
Polnareff responded by waving a hand dismissively at him. "I don't, really. That's just how Kakyoin explained it to me."
"Good grief," Jotaro sighed. "Of course you got that from Noriaki. There's no way you could have come up with that yourself."
"You're just mad I explained it to him before you could," Polnareff teased. "I know your secrets, Jotaro. You've been dying to see him for a while now, haven't you?"
Before Jotaro could retort with what was most likely going to be a threat on Polnareff's health, the Stand attacked again, rising from the ground in the exact same place as before, only to be fended off by Silver Chariot's lightning fast sword. Polnareff muttered something about getting slower in his old age (to which Giorno recalled that he was only in his mid thirties) as Silver Chariot lowered its weapon, letting out a frustrated sound at letting its target escape again.
"Did you catch that?" Jotaro asked.
Giorno nodded. "I think I understand now." Attacking him from exactly the same angle from before was, strategically, not a good move, especially when that angle was directly in front of him. It may have been trying to catch him by surprise by being so direct, but if what Polnareff said was true and that the Stand was moving automatically under a set of directions, it was not likely that it was trying to make a tactical move. Using that information, he used what information he had to try to figure out something useful.
When the Stand first appeared, it was when the lighter was relit, so it was most likely the trigger for initiating attack. Such evidence was further supported by its words: when it killed the janitor, it said it was because he relit the lighter. When it attacked Giorno himself, it said it was because Giorno saw the lighter being relit.
Therefore, it's been instructed to attack whoever relights the lighter as well as any and all witnesses who see it happening. That must be why it was ignoring both Jotaro and Polnareff: because they arrived later.
Now that he's figured that out, he needed to learn how it moved and attacked. He repeated Jotaro's words in his head. Stands are not random. No matter what its abilities are, every Stand has a set of rules and limitations it must follow. Knowing a Stand's rules and limits was the key to defeating it.
After killing the janitor, it had appeared behind Giorno to attack him, but after that, it appeared in front of him. Why? That, he knew, was the key to figuring out its ability. Simply asking the question wouldn't be enough, however, and Giorno instead started looking around for something, anything, that could be a clue. All around him were familiar sights, the same buildings he passed every day, but he stopped when he saw a pair of beady eyes glaring at him from the shadow of an alleyway.
Reaching up with a hand, he gently tapped Jotaro's shoulder. "I see it," he said. "It's hiding over there in the shadows."
Shadows?
Giorno looked up at the sky, where the sun hung low in the late afternoon. The first time he was attacked, he had been facing west. But when Jotaro pushed him forward, he was facing the other way, east.
"I think...it can only move in darkness," Giorno said. "That's why it's over there: it's waiting for an opportunity to get closer."
"Then we're in trouble," Jotaro said. "The sun will be setting soon."
He was right, Giorno realized. The Stand was being patient because time was on its side. A waiting game benefited it, and once night descended, there would be nowhere to run. They had to defeat it now. But before they could even begin to formulate a plan, it was gone in the blink of an eye.
"Where did it go!?" Polnareff demanded. "It can't have disappeared into thin air!"
But to Giorno, it didn't matter how it moved. The fact was that it did, which meant that it had found a way to get to him. Instinct told him he wasn't safe where he was, so he turned to run, ignoring both Jotaro and Polnareff's cries for him to stop. He ran away from the dorm, out of the courtyard and onto the public sidewalk and had hardly taken a few steps down the road when he lost his footing and fell forward onto the pavement. He thought he had perhaps tripped, but he quickly found that wasn't the case. A hand had grasped onto his ankle, an inhuman hand that rose out of a shadow. A quick glance to the side told him he was next to a small tree that had been planted in the sidewalk. Somehow, the Stand was able to get to the tree's shadow and ambush him. Slowly, its head rose out of the darkness and as it did, it tightened its grip on his ankle.
The pain was terrible. It should not be possible for something with such frail looking limbs to have such a strong grip, but it felt like his leg was in a vice that was slowly getting tighter and tighter. If it continued to tighten its grip, Giorno thought that it may actually shatter his bones.
"Giorno!"
Weakly, Giorno pushed himself off the sidewalk just enough to look over the Stand, past it to where Jotaro and Polnareff had followed him out of the dorm's courtyard.
"Jotaro, you gotta get to him!" Polnareff urged. "Stop time and get to him or something!"
"I..." Jotaro stammered. "I don't know if I can."
Briefly, through the pain, Giorno faintly remembered Jotaro telling him once that his strength wasn't what it used to be when he was seventeen years old. He rarely used Star Platinum's ability to stop time and as a result, that particular skill has deteriorated over the years to the point where Jotaro could now only use it infrequently and in very short intervals. Last Giorno heard, he was trying to improve it again.
Polnareff gritted his teeth. "Then it's up to me." Silver Chariot emerged from his body, lunging forward with its rapier extended. As it moved, armored pieces of its body began to pop off and with each piece it shed, it moved just a bit faster. When it got close enough, it thrust the weapon downward, piercing the Stand's body clean through and pinning it to the ground. And yet, it still didn't let go of Giorno's ankle, still clutching it in its iron grip. Polnareff turned to Jotaro. "Now, Jotaro! Get him free!" But Jotaro didn't need to be told, Star Platinum was already rapidly closing the distance between them.
"Don't!"
Star Platinum stopped as Giorno took a few labored breaths.
"Don't," Giorno repeated. "This is...this is perfect. Polnareff, keep it pinned down there." He reached out with a hand, not towards Jotaro and Polnareff, but towards the tree next to him. His arm trembled as he did, but he could not think about that. He couldn't think about whether or not he could actually reach the tree nor could he think about the agony his ankle was in. The only thing he could think of was summoning every ounce of willpower in his body.
At last, he saw it, a golden arm stretching from his own as Gold Experience phased into existence. Giorno could not reach the tree himself, but his Stand could, placing its palm on the bark, fingers splayed. Giorno gave Gold Experience a single order: infuse the tree with as much life force as possible as quickly as possible and it obeyed. Right in front of his eyes, Giorno watched as the vibrant green leaves on the tree began to change first to yellow, then to orange and one by one, flake off the tree until the branches were bare. But that was not all: the tree itself grew brittle and fragile, pieces of it flaking off until the entire trunk snapped under its own weight.
As the tree suddenly became smaller, so too did its shadow, the sun's rays striking the Stand directly. It shrieked in pain, finally letting go of Giorno's leg and writhing in agony. Steam rose from its body and a few seconds later, it had all but evaporated in the light. Silver Chariot turned its head, first to the left, then to the right, then faded away as Jotaro and Polnareff rushed to Giorno's side and knelt down beside him.
"Are you okay?" Polnareff asked, offering Giorno a hand to help him up.
"Yes, I'm fine," Giorno replied, even though his ankle screamed in protest as he got to his feet. He shifted his weight to his other leg, hoping neither of them would notice, but he already knew that they would both see it immediately.
"Bullshit," Jotaro snorted at him. "Your ankle might be broken. Can you even walk?"
"It's not broken," Giorno insisted. He wasn't lying: it wasn't broken, but it sure hurt like hell. He was determined to walk on his own, even if he had to limp and hobble his way back to his dorm room. Jotaro, however, was not about to let that happen and after a short argument, they came to the compromise of Giorno leaning on Jotaro so that he may have at least some of his pride remain intact.
On the way back to the dorm building, Giorno stopped and knelt down to pick up the lighter, which despite being briefly forgotten, continued to burn after being relit. He stopped a second time to look at the corpse of the Janitor laying at the foot of the steps that led to the building's entrance before being gently pulled forward by Jotaro, who promised that Polnareff would take care of the old man.
It would be hours before Giorno could convince Jotaro to leave, and at two in the morning, he would still be awake, sitting up in his bed with a plush calico cat in his lap and gently rubbing his injured ankle contemplating things he would not remember when he awoke the next morning.
It was difficult to hide. It was difficult for Giorno to hide his slight limp as he walked confidently into the prison the next day. It was difficult for him to fake excitement and gratitude to show to Polpo as the Passione capo prattled on and on then showered him with empty praise. It was difficult for Giorno to hide his contempt and disgust at the grotesque being hiding behind thick walls and shatterproof glass. It was not Polpo's appearance that sickened him, it was his attitude. Polnareff had said the previous day that Polpo likely wasn't even aware of what happened with his Stand. Wasn't aware of the misery he caused not just to Giorno, but surely countless others who came before him. How he could sit there jolly and ignorant in his maximum security cell, safe from the harsness of life and the consequences of his actions.
But Polpo's days of hiding were over. Giorno was going to make sure of that.
A single slit in the door leading into Polpo's cell was the only way to pass items back and forth between it. That was how Polpo had given Giorno the lighter to begin with, and this time, after returning the lighter, Polpo tossed a small pin onto the tray beneath it. It was proof that Giorno had passed Polpo's test, his stupid, pointless, evil test, and that it was also proof that he was now officially a member of Passione, something that Polpo said he should wear with pride.
He had no intention of wearing it. Giorno Giovanna wasn't going to allow himself to be branded by such a symbol that represented an organization he didn't truly want to be a part of. That is, one that he didn't want to be a part of in its current state. As he looked at the pin sitting there, waiting for him to take it, Giorno saw in the corner of his eye that Polpo was preoccupied with his food. So as he reached for the pin, Gold Experience, like with the tree from the previous day, reached further, towards the back of the cell wall where Polpo kept a loaded gun.
As Giorno exited the prison, he had one hand in his pocket, fingertips running over the pin within it, memorizing the bumps and the grooves on it.
"So how'd it go?"
Waiting for him just outside the door was Jotaro Kujo, leaning casually against the brick, arms crossed and hat pulled low over his face. As Giorno got closer, he reached up to push the bill of the hat back in order to look at him.
"I am a member of Passione now," Giorno said. "And Polpo will regret what he's done."
Jotaro looked alarmed. "What did you do?"
"Since there is no way the law can do it," Giorno said. "I delivered justice for his murder of the janitor."
The response only seemed to agitate Jotaro further as he got closer. "Giorno," he hissed. "What. Did. You. Do!?"
Giorno refused to answer him. Jotaro didn't need to know.
"Ah, Giorno!"
The tense atmosphere was immediately dispelled as a man in a white suit approached the pair.
"Seeing as you're standing there, I can only assume you passed the test," the man, Bruno Bucciarati, said, stopping a meter away from them. He looked from Giorno to Jotaro and instantly, his eyes narrowed. "Giorno, is this an acquaintance of yours?"
Giorno smiled. "Ah, Bucciarati. It's much sooner than I was expecting, but let me introduce you." When he told Bucciarati that he would be meeting Jotaro soon, he was expecting it be months later, not mere days. He still had some very stern words to give to Jotaro about that, but for now, he needed to smile. "This is Jotaro Kujo." And for a moment, he hesitated, but then added, "My brother."