Work Text:
Giorno's always been a shallow sleeper. It's a trait that stuck to him ever since he was a child. An instinct. A small uncanny ability to be acutely alert if his stepfather was around, if not he would receive a good amount of beating.
He would wake up even in the middle of the night if he heard or felt something off and this night was no different.
It happened way back when they used to escort Trish. They were all inside the turtle and decided to retire for the night— a short stop-over near a recluse forest not too far from the highway, before returning to their mission of taking the Boss’ daughter to her father.
On this particular night, Giorno was stirred awake by a noise. It sounded like humming, he was surprised that none of his teammates were awakened by this noise. Perhaps they were all exhausted. But for him, it could be a threat considering the ones that they just faced.
Eight stand assassins in total, in a span of barely a week— just for an estranged girl and her equally estranged father who happened to be the boss of the biggest crime syndicate in Sud-Italia. Giorno agrees that this was ridiculous, but he has to move with the flow if he wants to rise up to his dream.
Ever so slowly, he opened his eyes as he got his head up.
Everything seemed peaceful—Mista was passed out on the floor with a magazine above his face, Fugo was asleep with his head on the table next to him, Narancia was leaning his head on the edge of the sofa with his soft snoring, Abbachio was sitting on the leather seat while Bucciarati was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed—his chin was touching his chest as his head drooped forward.
But one thing was off: where's Trish?
The last thing that Giorno saw before they all slept was Trish's already sleeping form laid on the couch in a fetal position, a blanket over her as she slept. Giorno furrowed his brows as he prepared his stand. There's the blanket but no signs of her. So with cautious moves, he carefully stood from his seat, careful not to wake up anyone while he searched for her inside the turtle.
The blonde’s search came futile even after looking inside any possible space where she could hide but, as if it were pure luck, he has found the small earring back that she's been looking for and complaining about earlier at the back of the couch.
‘What’s with this girl again now?’, he thought as he stepped out of the turtle key while keeping his guard up for stand users.
Giorno has turned it into a firefly so he could use it as a beacon to follow through the dark night despite the moon's faint glow.
There is this small feeling of worry in him. She could've been hurt or something. Especially with that get-up. She's a delicate fifteen year old teenage girl who was scantily dressed, she has no layers to protect her skin from attacks, plus, she's not a stand user— one of the many reasons why Giorno was being slightly frantic. She’s his only lead to the Boss’ identity and he can’t afford anything that would take that lead away.
He was led inside the thicket where he started to follow the blinking light of the firefly that he had made until he ended up near a clearing in the middle of the woods.
There, he heard the humming again.
He slowed a bit at first from his tracks, observing where the glowing bug would go. As he closed in to the clearing, the sound got louder and clearer.
He eventually got to see Trish but she's still about ten meters away from him.
"Why on God's name would she be wandering off in the dead of night?” Giorno thought to himself baffled, if not slightly annoyed by the true intentions of the pink-haired girl.
She was laying on the grass, her arms were up and outstretched in the skies as she sang a song. It sounded like a lullaby, a nameless song that she’s been humming while her fingers were pointing upward, tracing the stars that shone faintly from the cloudy night. It was different from the snappy and bratty Trish that they’ve been dealing with. It was a more solemn, calmer and gentler version that only a few people were allowed to see.
He carefully closed in as the firefly landed on her fingertips causing her to sit up and halt from her tune. She was slightly facing away from him as she stared at the glowing firefly but he could still sort of see how her face got slightly illuminated by the firefly’s glow with a small smile on her lips. It was one of those rare times that Giorno saw a display of genuine emotions within the crew.
It was just a small, nostalgic smile, a happy, un-forced smile that made Giorno hold his breath inside of him for a moment.
An observer of behavior for as long as he could remember, Giorno knows that those kinds of expressions were rare to see with the people that he's around even with the seemingly kindest one who was Bucciarati.
In the world that he grew up in, he saw that it painfully lacks that authenticity that he’s seeing right now. That certain vulnerability, feeling as if it were a breath of fresh air.
“Hey, I know you're there.”, Trish started, the smile quickly faded and the usual stony face came down and covered the traces of that warmth like a practiced gesture.
He was impressed on how she could pull off that quick change of mask within a flick of a switch and be so perceptive at the same time.
“Just a few more minutes.... A few more minutes. I'll go back to the turtle after that, I promise.”, said Trish in a gentle voice that hinted slightly with melancholy, now completely facing away from him as she gently caught the glowing bug inside her palms, careful not to crush it. Her tone was above whisper but it sounded more delicate than the usual firm and stone-cold voice that she would often use at them.
“Why did you go outside you know it's—"
“Dangerous.”, she finished his sentence as she looked him dead in the eye, “I know. We all know. No-brainer.”, there it is the snarky Trish. The version that Giorno and his teammates would always get to see eversince the boss’ daughter had been with them.
He heaved a sigh and chose not to give a rebuttal but instead play along and slowly warm her up so he could take her back to the turtle.
“Then, why?”, he simply asked, weighing out the words that will come next.
“It's just because. I don't need to explain anything to you.”
Giorno raised a brow and decided to sit beside her on the short grass.
“I don't remember giving you my permission to sit next to me”, she commented with slight unease. Slightly confused from the blonde's move.
“Yeah you didn't.”
“Then, why are you doing this?”
“Just because.”, he quoted her, earning a sharp side glare from her emerald green eyes.
“Tch. Aren't you a smart ass? I told you to wait just a few more minutes.”
“Yeah. But you didn't tell me where to wait. Besides, I can't leave you here out in the open, can I? You're basically a walking target.”, Giorno simply replied in a straightforward tone. “What if an assassin ambushed and kidnapped you here? Worst case scenario is you'd be dead."
“Tch... Then they should just kill me already.”
“Pardon?"
“You heard me!“, she exclaimed but in an above whisper as her breathing got unsteady from the tears that she's been pushing down. ”Don't act like you care!!! Nobody cared... Nobody really bothered. I know I can't have my life back. My life, my mom, my friends... They're all gone, I lost everything.” she spoke with a shaky huff, her face was red from anger as tears flooded her eyes. Her hands have let go of the firefly and were picking on the grass begrudgingly. The blonde observed her again.
He didn't know if he's fit to comfort someone as distressed as her. He could just drag her back, but it will just disturb the group's sleep. He's sure that Trish would resist violently, so maybe he could slowly persuade her to come back. Perhaps consoling her would make her more comfortable to go back with him to the turtle.
He was about to say something when her silent cries caused small tears running down from her cheeks as she strangled a sob. She has never felt so small and useless in her entire life and the worst part was she’s too tired to lash out and even try to protest against it. Trish Una sat there as her anger and frustrations had conspired into breathless cries. Too young to do anything, too powerless yet, old enough to understand the horrors that awaits them along their journey to meet her father, all for a man who never even bothered to grow a pair and help his wife on her deathbed.
“I hate it...”, she managed to mutter.
“I know,” Giorno only managed to answer.
“Y-You're just saying that to make it sound like you cared… Cut it out.”, Trish looked at him with her wet eyes, a subtle glare—puffy from all the crying, before turning her head and hugging her knees; burying her face in it.
“No, I mean it.”, he said back. His tone was calm but his face was serious. He may not show it, but his patience was wearing thin. If his morals weren't strong enough, he could've knocked her cold and dragged her back as if nothing happened. But, he thought that it would be too much. She's hormonal, confused and lonely, not a criminal.
“Bullshit!", She replied, face still planted on her knees, her voice laced with loneliness and grief.
“I actually do.”, he said as he got his wallet and opened it. He showed it to Trish which earned him a weirded expression as she laid sight on the photo in the wallet. He never knew that comforting a person was harder than persuading them.
“That's... My father.”, he said pointing to the old photograph.
“What the hell?! W-why do you have to show me a picture of your dad?!?”
“Just to show you that I am not lying when I say that I sort of get you. Only a few people have seen this picture and I am showing this to prove that I’m not the one to play around.”, he answered. He didn't know what he just said but he had read before that something that could relate to someone would make her feel comfortable. Thus, making her easier to persuade. So, he folded the wallet and returned it to his pocket before slowly mimicking the position of her body with his own.
“DON'T ACT LIKE YOU KNOW ME, DAMMIT!”, she yelled, louder and more angrier than the last. It was sudden that it caught him slightly off guard, but he chose to maintain his cool and retain his neutral expression.
“You're right. I don't know everything about you. You're a complicated book to read. But I know for a fact, that you never loose everything yet.”, at this point, those words came out naturally. He didn't know why he dropped those but, his mouth moved on its own, dropping those words that sounded bitter and sappy even for him.
“H-huh?”
“I never met mine and he seemed like he's not even bothering to know that he has a son who's been thinking about him in a dysfunctional household with an abusive stepfather and a neglectful mother—”
The statement silenced Trish, causing her to hug her knees closer to her as her crying slowly died down.
“I didn't know… Sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry...”, she said with a voice that was beginning to falter again. Anger was replaced with guilt and her body shook with the overflow of emotions in her.
“No… Don't be. Let me finish.”, Giorno started, feeling as if he stepped on a line that he shouldn't have.
He carefully thought his words, handpicked, and carefully woven. “Whatever happened to my family is none of your fault. We are both victims of circumstances. From the way you act, you seemed like you had a content life with your late mother and now you are stripped off of your peace and life by an absent figure who just appeared out of nowhere then forcefully dragged into a dangerous world of syndicates. I never had the life you had but I am sure that you're going to go through. You're tough. You are far from where you were and it takes a lot of mental fortitude to last this long in a journey like this.”
He never had a high opinion about women in general. For him, they're all just motivated by vanity.
That's what he thought.
That's what he saw in his mother and to the girls that would swarm around him every time.
It was hollow, that's until he saw this side of Trish. He saw how she gave her ice to Narancia and to the others on the train to Venezia just to slow their aging. She's a little bratty but there are hints that she's just doing that to protect her sanity.
"I would've done the same. I would've done worse.", Giorno thought to himself as he peered with a softer glance on the pink-haired girl beside him.
“You're just saying those just to make me feel better.", she said in disbelief.
“Yes and No. Firstly, I am just saying what I saw. Second, I could've just forced you to get up and walk but I didn't especially when you started talking. In all honesty, I can't understand you in general but I saw how you're still passionate to stay alive despite what you said earlier. Trust me when I say that I know the feeling of being alone, trust me when I say that I know the feeling of being the only one in my own side.”
“You must be thinking that I'm weak. I don't need your pity.”
“No, never. Pity is the least thing that I could spare for someone who doesn't need it. I'm just… concerned.”
“Why?”
“Well… Aside from the fact that I'll be dead meat to the organization if we lose you, let's just say that… I would like to see you go on.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“You're young. You're strong and capable, brimming with potential, plus the fact that you are attractive if you're not bossy—everyone would kill for your position. Imagine having the world on gour fingertips after meeting your real father.”
“Geez… That's the lamest thing that I have ever heard. I don't want anything to do with my father. If I were not found by my father's shady organization I'd be okay in just being Trish. Me, my music, my own world built around my own hands.”, Trish said with a huff, followed by a soft snort followed by a gentle tone.
Giorno looked at her with a softened gaze and an unconscious smile. “I guess, that's what I could get about you. You're determined, a type of person who'll do anything to make her own mark to leave.”
Trish shook her head, feeling surreal as he looked at the blanket of twinkling stars above them.
“You really think that I could pull through?", She asked, uncertainty laced her voice.
“I can't tell but, I know you will. By far, you're putting up so well. I admire your determination.”, he started,“ Who knows? Maybe you would become the boss's successor. Imagine the things that you could do with all of those influences.”
“You sounded like you were the one who wanted to be the next boss, huh? Leaving a mark, you say? I bet that you're the one who has the big plans, has it?”
Giorno hummed, it seemed like he over shared. He didn't expect that he'll be carried away nor was he expecting Trish to catch up with underlying tones leaving him with no other choice but to play along.
“Well, it's free to dream, right?”
Trish fell silent again. No sobs, not even a single noise for a moment. Just silence and slow breathing from her. Giorno raised both of his brows as he sighed, has he said something wrong?
“Apologies... I have over-shared.”, he said nonchalantly.
Well, he guessed that she must've been offended by him comparing her life to his own. But what choice does he have? The words were said and her actions were hard to read even for him.
“I... it's fine.”, she replied simply.
With her, he couldn't discern what's happening and it left him wondering. It was challenging and almost endearing that her personality alone was dragging him like a moth in an open flame. It started with a 'let's just get this over with' attitude, but then, it escalated to something different… something that neither do Giorno nor Trish have anticipated.
Seeing the parallels and this side of her caught him off-guard and left Trish wondering the same thoughts about Giorno.
“Giorno Giovanna, right? That's your name?”, she started. It was soft, a calm whisper.
”Yes it is. What is it?”
“Could you promise to be silent about this conversation? It's not that I don't want to talk to you. In fact, you're a real good listener, thank you very much, and if ever my father would let me, I would like to see you again. But, it's just that I don't want Bucciarati to get mad at you for breaking his rule.”
Giorno turned his head as he nodded solemnly. “Of course… If that's what you want."
Trish finally lifted her head and wiped the mascara stains on her cheeks with a sniffle and looked at him, their gazes meeting for the first time. It was as if the time stopped for a moment, the two of them got lost inside each other's stare before they both looked away with creeping warmth on their faces.
“Are you going to be fine?", Giorno asked as he looked on his side, suddenly feeling a strange warmth on his chest and a fluttering feeling in his stomach. It was a pleasant kind of burn. Thankfully, the dark ambience of the night concealed the pink pint on his face.
“I don't know... But I'll try...I think... Can we go back inside the turtle, please?”, Trish uttered softly with a coy glance at him.
“Certainly.”, Giorno said with a soft grunt as he stood up. “C'mon.”, he said as he reached his hand toward her. She could've sworn that he had a half-smile on his face but it faded quickly.
She shakily held out her hand and took his in her palm, standing up as well. His hands were cold, rough, calloused; a tell tale that the young man before her has gone through so much compared to her soft hands.
“Uh, can I get my hand back?" he asked, a trace of playfulness in his tone as he noticed how the girl would just hold his hand as if she were a scared kid. 'Cute' if Giorno could word it out. Of course Trish was an eye candy, he never complimented a girl but he couldn't lie that she definitely would strike up glances.
“O-Oh... Sorry... It's, I-It's just that— when I— I'm nervous I...”, she suddenly came stuttering over her words as she struggled to regain her straight face.
”Right.”, he started, interjecting her sentence. ”I'll hold you till we get back to the turtle, deal?”
Trish nodded. “Y-Yeah... Thanks, Giorno.”
“No problem. Don’t mention it.”
The two of them walked to the trail back to the turtle. The night was cold but somehow they both felt warm. Their heart rate was slow and loud as they continued to walk down the moonlit trail.
“Giorno?”, Trish muttered softly.
“Yes, Trish?”
“Can I know why you joined the mafia?”
“Well…”, Giorno started. “I wanted change. That’s my dream.”
“A dream… Why didn't you continue studying and choose a common field like politics, sciences or maybe law enforcement?”
“I do not want to wait for graduation or college to make a change. I believe that one must act now to start the change he's looking for. Drugs, violence, abuse, all of those are undetected and it gets worse in my hometown alone. I have to take a step now if I want to see the results that I'm looking for.”
“And that change could only be achieved through joining the Mafia?”
Is she testing him? “Well, yes.”, he replied.
“With all due respect but the Mafia caused most of the crimes that you have mentioned in Italy alone. Hypothetically, you have seized the top ranks, then what?”
“I'm getting rid of drugs and human trafficking first.”
“But wouldn't it fracture a vital pillar on your organization?”
Damn, she's relentless with these questions, Giorno thought, amused by the clever back and forth.
“Good question. Yes it will but there are more ways to monetize the Mafia business.”
He could hear a slight giggle from her that rang through his ears before he heard a small sigh from here. “I wonder… What's the true reason behind that dream of yours…”, she said with a smile.
“What can I say? I have a bizarre head on my shoulders.”, he replied. “I could almost say the same to you. Your questions are sharp, really contradicts your appearance.”
Trish let out a soft laugh before tugging his hand causing him to look at her again. “Well I guess the debate club really sharpened me up.”,she laughed nervously as if she was chastising herself for not being the funny one.
“You sounded like you're the type to join every school organization. Little miss popular?”
“Well, you guessed the joining school organizations part correctly. I'm not that popular, though. I guess you could say that I just wanted to fit in y'know? I joined all of those clubs to, as pathetic as it may seem, to show them that I can do the things that they could, that I'm just like them, I could be their friend. But that just labeled me as Ms. Wannabe.”
“I see. Well there's nothing wrong with that. Everyone is a wannabe in their own way. I'm nobody that wants to be a mafioso. There's nothing pathetic or ridiculous about what you want.”, surprised by himself. For the record, he seems to enjoy talking to her, a part of him wanting to spend more time.
She replied, “Thanks again… I really needed that…”
Giorno was about to reply when his gaze diverted at two figures running toward them.
“Trish! Giorno!”, Mista called out in an above whispering tone.
“What are you two doing outside the turtle?” Bruno asked while Mista went towards Giorno and Trish.
“Oh… Bucciarati, Mista.” Giorno simply said toward the two men while Trish shrunk behind him, refusing to make eye contact with the bob-haired man and the gunslinger.
“Trish, are you okay? Are you hurt?”, Bruno asked.
“I-I’m fine.”, she muttered with a soft tone. “I-It’s just that… I couldn’t sleep well so I asked Giorno to watch over me while I hung around the clearing over there. Don't worry he kept a safe distance from me.”
Bucciarati’s gaze fell on Giorno’s hand which was holding hers protectively before exchanging glances with Mista, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. “Oh… Well, at least you two are safe. C’mon, let's go back to the turtle.”
Trish and Giorno exchanged a brief glance at each other before they awkwardly parted their hands away with Trish stepping forward and standing beside Bucciarati before walking away, while Mista and Giorno trailed at the back.
“Hey… How does her hand feel, man?”
“What?”
“Aw c’mon, I know damn well that you just came all the way here because you wanna have a moment with her by yourself. Kudos.”, Mista teased as he elbowed Giorno on his side.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mista. Just let it go.” Giorno said as he chewed his inner cheek.
“pfft, you sneaky bastard. We all know that you just did it to score on her.”, Mista sniggered.
“Whatever, Mista.”
“I bet you did a little, y’know. Smooches and a li’l bit of y’know what.”, Mista chuckled as he continued to bicker the silent blonde on his side. “I mean, Trish is hot and definitely would smash if I were you.”
Giorno’s mind just went out of the window as his mind started to replay Trish’s face like a broken record. Thanks to Mista, now the wannabe gang-star’s face was heating up as a deep shade of blush crept on his cheeks while he walked faster leaving the gunslinger and walking past Trish and Bucciarati in front.
“You can’t hide it that long, buddy!!!”
“Shh! Mista!”, Bruno hushed.
Mista breathed to his nose as he shrugged his shoulders and tried to suppress a stifled laugh.
‘Perhaps…’, Giorno thought as he reached the turtle first and got inside the key followed by Bruno and Trish and lastly Mista.
“No... Focus on your goal, Giorno. ”, he muttered to himself as he returned to his seat.