Chapter Text
Another death. Diavolo wanted to scream, surly he hadn’t done anything to deserve this level of torment. He was horrible. But not this horrible. This is the fault of that stupid brat, Giorno, and his own daughter, Trish. If she never existed this wouldn’t have happened. What a fool he was to make that mistake.
He sat alone as he bled out. He’s slowly losing consciousness. Just another lost life. As he drifts out of this world onto the next all he can hope is that it’s not Risotto Nero who brings his next demise.
He should’ve hoped harder. The first thing he hears is the familiar ring of the bells on his stupid ass clown hat. "Shit!" Diavolo scrambled to get up again. His vision was still blurry and his hands were still cold. He hadn’t even recovered yet. Was this how it was going to end? Was it going to be rapid from this point on?
Step. With it came the jingle of those horrid bells.
"Stay the hell away from me!" Diavolo demanded, pleaded, begged. He turned to the source of the noise to be met with those demonic eyes. Those stupid ass eyes. He never would be capable of forgetting those eyes. The malice and hatred they held for him could never be watered down even in death. This time however, Risotto held a stern but gentle gaze. A look Diavolo has never gotten from him before.
Each step Risotto took made Diavolo more and more tense. But he couldn’t back away. He shut his eyes as Risotto moved his arm upward. He covered his head to try and shield himself but… nothing came. After a few moments of nothing Diavolo looked up to see Risotto offering his hand. "I don’t know who you are, or what you have lost," Risotto started. His voice was deep and oddly calming. "All I know is that you might find a place in this world with us. Join me, and I’ll protect you. You don’t have to be afraid."
Diavolo just stared up at the gentle eyes that haunted him so often. What? Was Risotto not going to kill him? Was he going to survive? No. He couldn’t. He never did. Why was this happening? Diavolo cautiously reached out to him. The silverette watched him but made no sudden movements. Eventually Diavolo's shaky hand was placed in Risotto's sturdy ones. Risotto carefully helped Diavolo up from the ground. Diavolo flinched away from him once he was standing.
"Risotto!" One of the other assassins called out to them. Diavolo couldn't remember his name. But his hair was curly blue and he looked antsy. "Who is that?" His voice was rather raspy as well.
"He's with us now." Risotto responded. "Always with the cryptic ass messages..." The man muttered. He got into a black van, and Risotto began to follow him. Before he reached the door he turned back to Diavolo. "Are you coming?" He asked, smiling. Diavolo was still shaking and hesitating. But slowly he followed Risotto. The silverette helped him into the back. Nobody but him and Risotto sat here. The other assassin was not visible from where he was in the front. Diavolo assumes they were transporting something previously. Otherwise they wouldn't need this much space for two people.
"What is your name?" Risotto asked suddenly. Diavolo was still jumpy, he turned to Risotto uncomfortably. "...Diavolo." He answered truthfully. It did not matter if he knew his name or not. Diavolo's identity was long since exposed. He didn't have enough energy to think of a different one anyways. Risotto nodded. "My name is Risotto Nero."
Diavolo just stared blankly at him. Risotto's expression was blank, but Diavolo could feel sympathy behind it. He couldn't tell if he was relieved or insulted. They stay silent for a while until Diavolo asks; "Why... aren't you killing me?"
Risotto didn't look up from his knife, which he twirled in his hand like a toy. Finally, Risotto moves his knife so he can hold it properly yet loosely in his hands with a simple snap of his wrist. He looks up to Diavolo, "Should I kill you?" Risotto asks in return. Diavolo tensed up and Risotto went back to what he was doing before, as if the conversation didn't even happen.
He seemed oddly relaxed, which was not something Diavolo was used to. Although he was sure Risotto would kill him before he could ever start dreaming of this to be a normality. He couldn't trust him. But all he could do was cling to him like a leech in hopes that it would delay his death for a moment longer. Just another humiliating, desperate grasp at any opportunity to keep himself alive. To survive. Just for his life to be snuffed out later in a never ending constant loop.