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DIO flicked the page over, carefully making sure that the yellowing pages of the tome didn’t tear as it fluttered down. He had been enjoying catching up on all the world history he had missed in his 100 year slumber; it gave him plenty of time to devise a plan of attack against the persistent Joestar family line. DIO had been sure that the death of Jonathan had been the destruction of the Joestar family line, but the gentleman must had managed to impregnate his wretch of a wife; all leading to DIO spending his time hiding out in a crumbling manor in Egypt. He slowly let his eyes lazily drift over the words on the page, as he continued his education of the century in peace.
Just as he reached a rather interesting paragraph on carrots and chamber pots, there was a crash outside the door. DIO looked up, placing the book down beside his wine before standing; The World slipped out, freezing time for his master just as DIO rose from his seat. He marched to the door, throwing it open before appraising the scene in front of him. Giorno was stood staring at a broken vase, something small, furry, and ginger in his hands, as Vanilla Ice marched towards him. Time resumed, and Giorno backed up straight into DIO’s legs, causing the small boy to jump in surprise. He span around quickly, his black hair falling into his eyes as he tried to look up at his father’s shadowed face. Vanilla Ice came to a halt near the pair of them, before then dropping down onto one knee.
“Lord DIO, I am sorry about this disturbance. I was simply trying to teach your son Gi-” Vanilla began to recite, until Giorno cut him off with an angry shout.
“He wanted me to hurt Pickle!”
Dio blinked as he looked down at his son’s face. Giorno was the vision of determination and defiance, reminding him all too clearly of himself at the same age. His eyes glanced over to his bowing follower, the man who nothing but dedicated to him upon his arrival at his manner; though he had been hesitant when he had brought Giorno home as a small baby. Vanilla Ice has taken up the duty of raising his son to be a fitting heir while his followers searched for his other children, and it had been a rollercoaster of emotions for all.
He finally turned his attention to the creature in Giorno’s hand; the kitten could not be older than 2 weeks, and it was looking around with blurry blue eyes, meowing loudly. It truly was a pitiful little creature, too small for it's age and desperately clinging onto life, but Giorgio's determined face, as well as the careful hold on the kitten have him an idea; if Giorno wouldn't learn to kill, be would be made to learn the value of life.
“Giorno, you may keep this kitten you call pickle-”
“Pickles!” Giorno corrected, with the most stubborn look on his face.
“Right, Pickles. You may only keep this cat if you are the soul person that cares for them. You may only ask my servants to buy you the food and items you need for the cat, but you must do all the other work. If they die, it is your fault. Understand?”
Giorno stared up at him, before looking down at the tiny kitten in his hand, a fierce determination on his face. DIO knew his son would try his hardest, and if it made him stronger, who was he to try and stop him. He looked up and nodded enthusiastically.
“I understand!”
Giorno quickly ran off with the kitten, and Vanilla ice turned to him, a confused look on his face.
“I don’t mean to question you My Lord b-”
“Then don’t.” DIO interrupted him, and returned to his book, dismissing his most loyal servant silently.
Many years later, as the capo’s came to welcome their new boss, a slow bundle of orange fur would saunter past them, it’s nose turned away from them as it jumped into the black clad lap of the new don, it’s old eyes trained on them.