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Looking back on his early childhood years, Giorno sometimes wondered how he didn’t realize it sooner. In first grade he’d always hated how the girls he played with referred to their group as “girls” instead of “guys”. He’d never cared for the dresses his mother tried to get him to wear or the traditional feminine way of presenting yourself. Even as a young boy he subconsciously knew of his true feelings for himself. It was just a matter of time until he found the right wording to explain how he was feeling.
Gold Experience was truly a stand crafted solely for him. Bringing life to the inanimate and healing the wounds of the flesh; perfectly suited for him. The art of the healer and caretaker were always intriguing to the young man. His desire to protect others must have stemmed from his early youth when he helped the mobster avoid certain death, or at least that’s what he reasoned. That same encounter also started his appreciation for the mafioso, something he’d keep with him forever.
When Giorno was thirteen he finally plucked up the courage to run away from home. He stole the contents of his father's wallet and half the kitchen before throwing his backpack in the passenger seat of his taxi and stepping in. The driver scammed him and charged five times the regular price, but Giorno didn’t mind. He was finally gone from his personal hell, and the driver had just taught him a new street trick for easy cash. It was a world of scheming and stealing from here on out. That was the first real lesson he learned that day. “To survive you must do what you must, no matter the cost”.
Giorno spent his cash on a small studio apartment as soon as possible. It was dingy and dusty, musky with an unpleasant squeaky door and leaky faucet. The bed was hard and lumpy with loud springs that creaked with any form of movement. Even a turn of the head would set them off. Despite it all though, Giorno was happy for the first time in a long while. The room became his home, his sanctuary, and his life in only a few weeks.
His parents didn’t try to contact him, but sometimes on his afternoon walks he’d seen a missing kid poster with his face on it. At least they weren’t completely nonchalant about it, he would think. The posters would have been a problem if his body change hadn’t happened. There weren’t many kids of Japanese descent in Italy, so he stuck out quite a bit. But then something happened to change him.
At the time it happened he thought it was the doing of God. Giorno was stunned when his hair miraculously turned blonde.“Un dono di dio,” he'd called it. God changed his appearance to protect him from the world and start his life anew, and he wouldn’t waste His gift. Though Giorno never considered himself a religious child, he wasn’t so arrogant as to look a miracle in the face and deny it.
Giorno decided then and there to live his life the way he wanted. He cut his golden hair to his shoulders and started finding his new look. He went to the local library and read through every book they had on the topic of transexuals. He even started to try out different ways of binding his ever growing chest. Giorno did everything he could at his young age to make his life worth living. He was a changed man now, and a man since birth.
At the tender age of fourteen, Giorno met his stand face to face for the first time. Gold Experience had always been there for him, helping him along his journey, but here it was in the metaphysical flesh. He remembered not being scared. In the moment he was as calm as the sea surrounding his country. It was like they both subconsciously knew of each others goals and feelings, and there was no need for discussion. From then on, Giorno felt safer than he ever had.
From that day on, Giorno split his time between street scams and training. He learned of Gold Experience’s special abilities and the untapped power it wielded, hidden just below the surface. In the evening he found out about Gold Experience’s ability to replace body parts with newly made living objects, an idea came to him. A terrible idea that he didn’t go through with, but an idea nonetheless.
If his stand could replace body parts, then surely it could take them away too? Giorno recalled looking down at his bare chest in the mirror and thinking of the pain it caused him. Maybe he could cut off his chest himself and have Gold Experience create new flesh on top of it. When he pressed the blade of his kitchen knife to the warm skin of his body though, he reconsidered. Pain was never something he particularly enjoyed, really no one did, so he was willing to wait a few more years until he could get proper surgery.
Looking at his chest now was odd. It didn’t upset or disturb him like it used to. That’s not to say that he was comfortable with his chest, but to say that he was so detached from himself mentally that it didn’t bother him anymore. His body belonged to someone else, someone that wasn’t him, and his mind belonged to both himself and Gold Experience.
At fifteen and nine and a half months old, Giorno finally got the opportunity to start his dream. Bruno Buccellati took him in and gave him a new home after he proved himself. Bruno was unlike any other adult Giorno had ever met. The gangstar was soft and kind, patient and approachable, while also being intimidating, powerful, and assertive at the same time. Giorno felt like he could tell him anything and he’d be heard loud and clear. He thought about his gender problem and realized he probably had to inform Bruno or risk him finding out accidentally.
It was on the sail boat before Mario Zucchero’s attack when he told Bruno. The small gang was spread out on the dock, and he was alone with his soon to be capo. Giorno didn’t blame Bruno’s crew for ostracizing him at first. It was only natural to be wary of new members in your group, no exceptions. So even if he didn’t say it, Giorno was grateful that Bruno was choosing to sit with him and help him adjust.
“Tell me about yourself, Giorno,” Bruno said encouragingly.
“What of?”
“Just whatever. I’d like to know you better since you’re part of the familia now.”
“Well, I’m fifteen- sixteen in April, I like chocolate pudding and octopus salad, my favourite musician is Jeff Beck, and…” he trailed off and debated whether or not now was a good time to spill the pot.
“And what?” Bruno asked, not pressing the issue too hard.
“Well-” Giorno pivoted around to look for any eavesdroppers, “there’s something I should have told you before but… I was too nervous.”
“Is it something to do about yourself, or something else?”
“It’s about me,” Giorno said before pausing. “I’ll just say it real fast and get it over with, okay?”
Bruno nodded. His eyes got a concerned look in them, akin to what Giorno thought a proper mother’s were meant to look like. He swallowed and pushed down his anxieties.
“I’m transgender,” he blurted out. Bruno grew confused.
“You’re transgender?”
“It’s like when… We’ll I’m a guy now- like you, and I identify as a guy and I like male pronouns and stuff but- I wasn’t born as a guy… persay…”
“Giorno,” Bruno said with a smile, “I know what transgender means.”
“You do?”
“Mmm hmm. This may seem hard to believe, but I’m also transgender myself. Surprising for both of us, right?” Bruno laughed.
Giorno paused. He looked Bruno over from top to bottom, taking in his features. The man was tall and muscular with a column shaped body that looked as natural as possible. Giorno unconsciously rested his gaze a moment longer on Bruno’s chest. It was flat. Flat as a man’s from birth would be. He swarmed with masses of emotions.
“You’re like me?” he asked.
“You’re a man, aren’t you?”
“Yeah…?”
“Then I’m exactly like you,” Bruno said. “There’s no need to be worried about what the rest of them will think, too. You don’t even have to tell them if you don’t want to. It can be a secret between us, trans man to trans man.”
Giorno looked at Bruno with wonder. “Really?”
“Really, Giorno. And if you want surgery when you're older I’ll be happy to help you through with it, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, Bruno.”
“I’m here for all my men, no matter who they are. We’re like a family here, alright? I’ll make sure they treat you like one. Especially that Abbacchio.”
Giorno turned to stare at the purple haired man Bruno talked about and laughed. He recalled how he had to drink his “special tea” not even a few hours ago. Guess he’s just a cranky guy, he thought. Bruno patted him on the shoulder gently. Giorno directed his attention to his leader.
“I’m glad you told me, Giorno,” Bruno said. “It’s not an easy thing to do, even less so with someone you don’t know that well.”
“It’s alright. It feel good to get it off my chest.”
“Yes, speaking of that, Giorno, how are you wearing an open chested suit if you haven’t had top surgery yet? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”
“Uhm, I kinda just found a way to use duct tape to push them to the side. I wear a cut up tank top over them first though so I don’t have to peel the tape off my chest,” Giorno explained. Bruno looked conflicted.
“I guess that’s not too bad of a way to do it. Do you wear open suits like that everyday?”
“Not everyday.”
“Do you have any real chest binders?”
“No,” Giorno muttered.
“Then once we finish this mission I can get you my old ones, alright?”
Bruno smiled and left Giorno alone after that. Looking back at that day was a fond memory now. Bruno was the first adult who was truly kind and accepting towards him, and he’d never forget that.
Eight days later, Giorno became the new Don of the Italian mafia. He had Mista and Trish by his side, his only friends left. He’d told them his secret a few weeks after the Diavolo fight and received warm responses.
On quiet days like this, Giorno liked to look back on his younger years of life. He remembered how much he overcame in a positive light. But now he didn’t have time for reminiscing.
He had a three person trip to Disney World to book.