Chapter Text
~Giorno Giovanna knew he wasn't normal.
He knew that because before this whole ordeal he hasn't cried a single time since he was two years old.
If he told his four-year old self who saved Mr. Gangster that he cried for people that he barely knew for a week, he knew that his younger self wouldn't believe him.
He looked over to the exact spot where he thought he saw Buccellati's soul pass on. It was replaying in his head like rapidly pressing the 'repeat' button on a TV remote.
"Don't worry about it Giorno. I'm simply going back to where I was supposed to go."
He could have sworn he heard an airplane when Narancia passed on also. Was it survivor's guilt or Giorno really see their souls go to 'Heaven?'
Giorno put Polnareff down and quickly tied his hair into a braid. For some reason, he felt uncomfortable with his hair down, though he couldn't give an exact reason why. Polnareff was the one to break the silence between the two.
"Why did you stop me from telling Mista about Buccellati? He's going to find out the moment he gets into the Coliseum." He asked. Giorno bent down to pick up the turtle. This turtle's been through so much, and is still helping on more ways than one. If not for this turtle, then Giorno would have never known about Requiem and the ultimate way to defeat Diavolo. Giorno looked ahead to Trish punching Mista on the arm while yelling at him.
"That's why I didn't say anything. They're going to find out eventually. Let them grasp in this victory for a little bit longer before reality drops on them." Giorno replied, pulling the turtle closer to him.
"13 years ago, my friends and I had to fight a Stand user who also had a time ability..." Was Giorno just seeing things or was Polnareff's eyes darkening?
"I had to see two of my friends die in front of me, trying to protect me, I felt helpless. I think that's how you're feeling about Buccellati right now." Giorno's eyes widened.
"I'm simply going back to where I was supposed to go."
Narancia was laying there in Giorno's body. It was supposed to be him there. It was some sick twisted way of fate that Narancia was caught up in it. He only wanted to start studying again.
Abbachio hated Giorno but trusted him enough to get the hint about Diavolo.
It wasn't right, it wasn't fair.
What was the point of having a Requiem Stand if you can't bring back the dead?
Giorno couldn't heal them. He couldn't, couldn't, COULDN'T-
"Giorno! Hurry up! Buccellati's waiting for you!" Mista called out from the entrance of the Coliseum. He waved towards the new Requiem Stand user. Giorno shook his head to try and take out the thoughts from his head.
"Giorno, are you alright?" Polnareff asked in a tone of concern. From what Giorno could deduce, Polnareff's been into situations as bad as they have even before he encountered the ex-boss. Maybe he had as much fun as Giorno did when it was downtime? He would ask the ghost later. He faked a smile.
"Yeah. I'm ok. Just... preparing myself to tell them the truth." Giorno lied. Polnareff didn't relax with his reply.
"If you want to talk about it, I'm here ok?" To think that Giorno would be talking to a turtle of all things. He would have never guessed it last week, when he joined Passione to try and overtake the boss to get rid of drugs in Italy.
So much has changed from then.
He nodded and forced his legs to move towards the ruined ancient building.
***
Giorno dreaded this.
He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to tell them that Buccellati was dead.
But he had no choice.
He handed Polnareff to Mista and went stiffly towards Buccellati's body.
He died at the tower, he died even when Giorno healed his wounds. (Or was it before and Giorno was too late?) It was by some miracle that Buccellati managed to get this far by living inside a corpse.
Giorno knew that if Buccellati was alive right now, he would probably make all of them have a moment of silence for Narancia and Abbachio.
Now he wants to have a moment of silence for all three of them.
"What are you waiting for? Besides, I must have shot him bad. He's still unconscious." Mista stared at the body guiltily. "Ah! I hope he'll forgive me for that!" He already has, Mista. Giorno healed the physical wounds on Buccellati's body noticing the other wounds inflicted onto him on the process. A slash by his shoulder blade, his fingers, a chest wound... he went through all this without telling anyone else.
"Giorno, you can't tell anyone about this. They don't have to worry about me." Would it have made a difference if he did though? Giorno remembered the reaction Narancia had towards Abbachio. He still had emotions while I couldn't even shed a single tear. I envy him.
At last, when the last wound was fixed, Giorno took a step back. The childish part of him expected Buccellati to turn his head, open his eyes, and the first thing he would ask would be if Diavolo was defeated. (Because Buccellati was more efficient than Giorno could ever be) But the more dominant part of him knew that someone would be asking the question of the day-
"Hey, why isn't he waking up?" It was Trish who said this. She took a step forward and held her hand forward. Mista smiled slightly.
"The healing's probably taking longer than usual since Giorno doesn't know how to use Golden Experience Requiem yet, right?" Giorno noticed that Mista was acting like Narancia when Abbachio... he couldn't think the word.
Trish's hand started to shake. Polnareff's soul went into the turtle as if to give the three privacy.
"Giorno... Giorno why isn't Buccellati waking up?" Mista turned towards the blonde who turned his face away from the remaining survivors.
"...Giorno?" Giorno's eyes twitched and he felt something wet come down his eyes.
"I-I'm sorry Mista... Buccellati's dead." His voice cracked. It was like a pin being dropped onto a metal surface in an empty room. The 'clink!' only got louder and louder until it was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Mista looked at the younger teen. His fingers inched towards his gun.
"You're lying... right? This is some kind of prank?" He asked staring at the dead body. Giorno could hear Trish crying quietly, he could see her coming towards Buccellati's body and placing her head on his chest.
Giorno kept quiet. He could read moods as if it were his sixth sense. He knew that if he spoke, Mista would rage.
"W-was it my bullets?" Mista placed a hand on his hat. "Did I overdo it and I kill him?!" He can't blame this on himself!
"No! It wasn't you! He... he was dead from before. I don't know how but his soul remained intact with his body." Trish suddenly looked up from Buccellati's chest as if she realized something.
"Was t-that why he barely bled on his leg at the plane?" Giorno didn't realize Trish managed to put the puzzle pieces together. He had to commend her for that. He nodded gravely. He was never going to tell Trish that he Buccellati actually died because he tried to save her. He knew that she wouldn't be able to cope with the guilt.
Mista pulled his hat down his face and covered his eyes. The sun shone from the clouds onto Buccellati's body as the remaining survivors in the late Buccellati's gang grieved not only for their leader but for their comrades too.
There were so many casualties from this 7 day battle. Giorno wiped the tears from his eyes.
I'm going to make a better mafia, a mafia that Buccellati would be proud of!