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abbacchios-sunflower · 4 years ago

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Welcome Aboard Part 2

The second half of my collab with @dongiovannaswife ! Thank you so much again Lena for doing this with me, I had sm fun! <3<3 ^o^

*****

“Sooo, what’s he like anyways? Your boss? Giorno you said his name was?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, Giorno’s a fair guy, really smart, kinda scary to most people who meet him for the first time, but he’s one of my best friends, great guy,” Mista leaned back in his seat, arms folded, knees crossed as he looked to Marissa. “To be honest I don’t know why he needs bodyguards, his stand is probably the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Hmm, I see,” she looked out the window as they drove on what felt to be forever. “He’s kind of mad I got involved, huh? Is he even going to like me? I’d rather not get shot in the head for walking in on mafia business, you know?”

Bruno closed his laptop, tucking it away as they were going to be arriving soon, “Just like Mista said, he’s a very fair guy, we’ve known him for a long time now; he’s just very protective over his famiglia and doesn’t like civilians getting tied up in our business, doesn’t think it’s right. I’m sure he’ll be very welcoming when meeting you.”

“Yeah; exactly! It’s not like it’s your fault you almost got sliced up by that dickwad we were chasing!” Narancia interjected.

Fugo rolled his eyes, “Yes well, you didn’t have to be such a blabbermouth and tell her we were the mafia, Giorno has the biggest problem with you doing that if anything.” He looked across to Marissa as well, “he’ll probably ask questions about your stand, what your intentions are, you’ll be fine, try not to worry too much about it, all of us here got roped into the mafia at young ages and we did just fine,” the blond checked his phone.

Well, yeah, of course it was easy to tell someone not too worry when this has been your norm for like, ten years. The newcomer folded her arms, stretching her legs out in the back seat of the car. “Alright I guess.” Maybe she was starting to regret the decision to come. When her parents had said to “branch out and meet new people'', but this probably wasn’t what they meant, oh well she was kind of stuck in the situation now, might as well see where this all goes. Worse case scenario she probably would just go back home.

“Just be grateful you don’t have to do the lighter test to get your stand and we discontinued that kind of stuff; that was so nerve wracking, I thought I was a goner!!” Narancia rubbed his neck nervously.

“Lighter test?”

“It’s how things used to be done, though some of us already had our stands by the time we joined, you see,” Bruno had explained. “Mista and Abbacchio both had manifested their stands by the time I had found them, not everyone needs to pass the arrow’s test to get one. It’s a topic Giorno and his family are highly interested in actually.”

“Oh?” Marissa looked to Abbacchio who was sitting in the front seat. In the few days she had known these five men; it was probably him that she knew least of. He was even more closed off and disgruntled than Fugo, barely speaking a word to her unless they were bickering about something.

“Hey guys, maybe you shouldn’t be telling her everything about us, she’s still an outsider in case you forgot about that; I doubt Giorno would like you guys running your mouths more than you should, he’s already probably pissed,” the goth grumbled, looking back from the passenger’s seat.

Bruno has a teasing smirk, leaning back, “And since when you were so interested in obeying what Giorno says? Hmm? I thought you liked being difficult with him.”

“You’re just lucky he always trusts your judgment, Consigliere, or else he probably wouldn’t have even wanted to meet her,” Abbacchio sarcastically snapped back. Bruno had rolled his eyes.

“You’re still just sore that I didn’t tell you about why I brought him into Passione in the first place all those years ago,” Bruno chuckled, “but that’s a story for another time, perhaps Giorno would like to tell you himself,” the leader pleasantly smiled. “Now, we’re almost there,” he regained Marissa’s attention. “I don’t care what you’ve heard from any of us, you’re going to refer to him just as Don Giovanna, okay?” she nodded stiffly. “I take it we can trust you to be respectful?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, of course!!” she straightened up in her seat; the anxiety was definitely setting in now. This was probably— definitely a mistake. How did she always get into weird and scary messes with people?

*****

The estate was huge, yeah; surely the Don of the mafia and his most trusted men stayed there. Mista was the one to open the door first and stroll on in, followed by the others. “We’re baaaaack!” He loudly announced. “Oh Trishy? Did ya miss us?!” He confidently smirked as footsteps approached.

“I’ve been wondering when you would be back, I’m still bummed out I didn’t get to go…” a young woman with pink hair slowly came to a stop as she looked past the men, seeing the shorter woman with them. “Dio mio- when I said to bring me back a souvenir, I didn’t mean kidnap a local!” She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at the gunslinger.

“Relax, she just got caught up in our bullshit, she’s a stand user and Bucciarati was interested in her stand and thought Giogio would be too, said he wanted to meet her when we were on our way over!”

“Speaking of that, I already finished the reports from this job, we burned down the warehouse, not a trace of the drugs left, same with Emiliano,” Fugo held up a small folder.

The young woman’s face relaxed more as she exhaled, taking the file and extending a hand to the newcomer, “Trish Una, I know how it feels to get swept up into trouble by these assholes, they don’t bite though, I promise, well, maybe Abba will if you provoke him enough, but he’s a bit of a softy under the fangs,” she smirked when Abbacchio looked disgruntled by the use of the nickname and teasing in front of the other woman who was smirking back at him now.

“Abba, huh?” she raised a dark eyebrow, smirking as well.

“That’s just “Abbacchio” to you, brat,” he snapped back.

Rolling her eyes, she ignored the threat and took Trish’s hand, “Marissa, but uh, you guys can just call me Mar, all my friends do, it’s easier in my opinion,” she tilted her head back and forth. “So are you, like, a stand user too?”

“Got that right, most of us are,” Trish pulled her hand back, gesturing to follow her, “come on, they’re right this way! They’ve been expecting you!”

“They?” Mar blinked.

“Oh, of course, the Donna will be there too naturally, she’s a lovely lady, Giorno’s lucky to have her for sure. She’s very interested in you too; I’m sure you guys will be great friends if you’re to stay with us! Also, we better get you Italian lessons if that’s gonna happen, luckily a lot of us speak English pretty well too,” Trish stopped talking and turned to face a set of doors, knocking twice. “Don Giovanna, Bucciarati is back, Fugo already finished his reports.” She announced.

“And is she with them?” A male voice came from behind the door.

“Right next to me!” Trish replied.

“Well, send her in then.”

*****

Trish Una turns to Mar, a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes directed on her way as she opens the door, holding it open for her. “Good luck.” She mouths right when Mar walks by her side, closing the door at her back.

The office looks like a lawyer’s would; bookshelves around the room are filled with all kinds of books; from astrology to philosophy, biology, medicine, math. All the knowledge the human race had cultivated through centuries seemed to rest there, in a silent office where only the light of the window pooled in, illuminating it just in the right amount.

“Please take a seat, would you like something to drink?” a feminine voice, soft and gentle, breaks the silence.

Marissa’s head snaps towards the source of the sound.

In the couch where the sunlight is gentler, a woman sits, a glass of liquor suspended between her fingers. Her short black dress hugs her figure in a comfortable way —and the dark purple cloak resting on her shoulders, huge and almost drowning her makes it clear the garment is not hers, both from its size and the cut.

Her red lips curl upwards in a genuine kind smile when Marissa and her make eye contact.

Nodding her head, her curls move along her head, strangely giving her that aura of mysteriousness. “Don’t be shy.”

“Sit down.” the male voice is there again, this time, coming from the desk. Just when Marissa looks on, a blond man stands up, all six foot six of him towering and blocking the sunlight from the window. As he moves on, his features and figure become clearer: short blond hair that reaches the nape of his neck, piercing green eyes and lips in a tight line, and a strong, imposing built. Hands inside the pockets of his burgundy suit —the black shirt underneath the suit jacket glistens with something underneath, a shape unknown to most —but to him, the rumble of the arrow lets him know this is a stand user standing before him.

“We were told about the incident.” He starts, not expecting an answer from her until he rounds the couch, coming to sit down besides his wife and circling her shoulders with one arm as the other extends forward, signaling her. “And we wanted to talk about it.”

Mar nods, quickly walking in and sitting down at the couch before the couple.

Their glances feel like an ice cube and a flame at the same time but even then, she still finds the courage to look at them in the eyes before centering her attention in a spot above their heads, where her voice doesn’t quiver when she speaks.

“I was the one who asked,” she starts, quickly correcting herself as her fingers fiddle with her clothes. “I wanted to know what it was —just a part, because the rest was obvious.”

Giorno hums, “First things first, what’s your name?”

Marissa gulps down, feeling the man’s gaze harden when her reply doesn’t come immediately; naturally, one would expect this question to be answered right there.

“Marissa.”

Giorno nods, curtly: all business. “Well then, nice to meet you. She’s my wife and the Donna of the famiglia —I suppose you already know who I am, don’t you?”

Lena nods, raising her glass shortly —making the Don tone it down. “Please make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Don, Donna.”

“Now,” Giorno doesn’t let silence settle in, “There is something we need to talk about first; we have a strong policy to not get civilians involved in our… Matters. You were a special case, and before we start, you’re totally free to choose and swear silence over this. If you do, you can go home right now, and you won’t talk about this —not the police, not your family, not your lover, no one at all. Is that what you want?”

Marissa opens her mouth to reply when Lena raises a hand up, her palm open and exposed towards her —perhaps a blind body language sign.

“Think about it. We won’t go anywhere.”

And this time the rest is silence.

As Marissa’s head spins with thoughts and questions, her eyes go back and forth between the couple and the literal library around them, the sound of birds chirping outside and the water in the fountain falling. The distant sound of male laughter and the following hush to it.

For fucks sake, she had come here without a purpose. It was all a mere impulse to go out and explore, find new things, meet people perhaps.

But the Italian mafia was a whole other level of her mom’s phrase. It was crazy.

“Listen,” she says, making the couple’s ears peek immediately as they look back from each other’s faces —their quiet conversation forgotten immediately. “If you’re trying to embed another question about my reason to be here I’m gonna be sincere with you, I don’t know what I want from this, but I’m not your enemy. Hell, I’m just a girl from a damn boring town.”

Giorno nods, tilting his head to the side slightly. “That does answer one question, but not the other.”

Marissa sighs, “I want to stay.”

“Why?” Lena shoots back, leaning forward to place her glass into the coffee table. The liquor left there is now ignored.

“I don’t know.” Marissa repeats, trying to bite back her annoyance —she had already said it.

Lena hums, a sweet smile making its way into her lips; the situation makes it feel like a venomous one. “Mar,” she stops for a second, giving her the time to correct her in case the nickname does not match her taste. “There is always a reason for everything; you want to stay, and there must be a reason for it. Everyone here has one.” She gestures around with one hand, recalling some of their most loyal men. “Loyalty, money, a lost cause, redemption, a golden heart. Everyone has a reason; and all of them are valid. As long as the interests match, then there is no way we won’t let you in.”

Giorno’s gaze comes back from outside, a solution on the back of his mind. “Let’s do something; we will proceed with your test,” if he noticed Mar’s stiff shoulders at the word ‘test�� he played an excellent act when he didn’t react to her reaction. “And by the time we’re done, the last question will be your reason to be here.”

“Sounds good,” Lena speaks up. “Shall we start, then?”

Mar hums, gulping down.

“What are your views on law and justice? Is it true or just another circus?” Giorno leans back, chest puffed out in pride.

Mar huffs, almost rolling her eyes. Now that she has found her physical reactions don’t seem to have an effect on them, the will to be herself comes back slowly but surely. “Money. If you have the money, then there is no way you’ll put a foot in jail; no one will be able to find out about your actions, unless you want them to.”

“And what if you don’t have the money and you are not the culprit but you find yourself in jail?”

“Then… Someone who doesn’t want you out there got you there with their influences.”

“I see,” Giorno nods, eyes falling into the window once again. Thoughtful. “What would you do to escape if you found yourself in that position?”

“Let’s be real, any person who knows about this kind of business will be killed in no time: the news and the police will say they took their own lives. But we all know the government doesn’t want to be seen as a traitor to the people they swore justice and truth to. So they will kill them and make it seem like a suicide, they will pay and eliminate anyone who dares say otherwise,” Mar looks up, almost as if looking into the white celling will give her the answers. “The only way to escape is paying, as I said before, anyone will do whatever they can to grasp a few more bucks into their hands, even if that means letting go someone important under the lie of an escape.”

Lena nods, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “But… Most people in the government are there because some of them have been put there by us.”

Mar nods, humming along. “And that’s why you’ll probably never find yourselves there, because those men are working for you. They owe you one, that’s it.”

Giorno turns to Mar, smirking slightly. “That’s right. Then, next question —Will you commit murder? Whatever your impulse is from these two; orders or will, never from liking —would you do it? And who would it be?”

Mar’s lips end up pressed together for a moment —her eyes go around the room until her sight falls outside; the sun is gone, hidden by grey clouds. Even the birds have gone silent. The only sound is the water fountain still working.

Looking on, Mar stares into Giorno’s eyes, then into Lena’s, replying in a firm, concise tone. “Well, as far as the rich and powerful that get away with horrific crimes? Anyone who takes advantage of the weak? I don’t care about what happens to them and I’d gladly set them on fire without thinking twice if given the opportunity.”

The couple before her don’t reply, turning to look at each other —right there, Mar can see the deep connection between them, as the simple glance into each other’s eyes proves to be enough to communicate; only a small smile from Lena and her nod, and Giorno turn to her again.

“That does actually match with our interests —you’ve got one point there.”

Lena nods, speaking up. “Next question, Mar, and this one is my favorite; are we born good or evil? Do we turn evil, or perhaps good, as time goes by?”

Mar nods to herself, replying shortly after —eyes going between them in a simple conversational gesture, out of nervousness or insecurity. Despite the topic, it already seems like everyone there is comfortable with each other’s presence. “As far as that whole debate, well, everyone has some kind of baggage; people are just people. You have to make the conscious decision every single day of what kind of person you want to be. People who come from bad homes either choose to rise above it and be ‘good’ or they’ll choose to use it as an excuse to hurt others because they were hurting. Regardless, yeah, at the end of the day, there’s always a choice that has to be made.” She shrugs her shoulders a little.

Giorno nods, humming low. The sound spark’s Mar’s attention.

But his last question is not expected.

“Usually, we ask more, but you’ve surprised us —last question; what is your will, if you ever form part of the famiglia?”

After a moment of hesitation, considering all the previous answers she had given, she looks back up, finally thinking she had a solid, cohesive answer to give. “To be honest I’ve been kicked around all my life, I was never taken seriously, I hated being ignored, and in turn I hate seeing others face injustice. I even considered a job in criminology at one point; my dad always thought I should have been a lawyer or went to work for some behavioral analysis unit, ya’know, FBI stuff,” she licks her bottom lip as she starts off. “But like I said earlier, it’s all corrupt at some level, the law, all the red tape and bullshit rules, that’s why I stopped trying to pursue the idea of becoming a profiler, it frustrated me to see people manipulating the system.”

Letting a few beats go, she continued on, “That said, one might say I have a moral flexibility problem and I don’t like playing by rules that are designed to protect the corrupt, my ideals of justice aren’t really what the government is interested in. Sadly, for me, that means I’ve never really fit in anywhere, never had much of a plan after I realized I couldn’t stick with a job I had thought I wanted.” She looked down at her feet again, “That’s why, when I ran into your guys pursuing that drug dealer this week, I guess I figured it was a sign that maybe there could be a place for me, after all, it doesn’t seem like any of you had much success being on the side of government or law enforcement.”

Folding her arms, she looked back at the Don of Passione, “I guess that’s why I want in; if you guys could find a place and purpose being here, why not me too?”

Giorno’s eyes bore into Marissa’s, cold and empty of anything but plain green pools accentuated with yellow bits.

The Donna leans back as a single chain enveloped in red energy emerges from her palm. It flicks, filling the room with the sound of clicking metal.

Rising a hand up just when one of the chain’s links rests there, surrounded by a brighter tone of red, turning orange briefly just when another hand, humanoid and clearly not hers, but her stand’s, touches the object, producing a creak that echoes and bounces around the walls.

And as soon as it came it’s gone; the sound, the stand’s arm and its glow, everything’s gone and now, in the Donna’s palm rests an insignia. She leans forward now, with Giorno’s eyes on both women as he watches the moment through proud and calm eyes.

“Welcome, Marissa. Wear this and serve loyally for our cause, which is just.”

Giorno speaks up just when Marissa leans forward to take the insignia, “You will be assigned to an area with a Caporegime, and will work for them, understood?”

Marissa nods, taking the insignia from Lena’s palm. “Understood, boss.” She looks down at the golden object —it’s not that heavy, but it does have a certain weight, taking in consideration it’s apparently made of pure gold; the arrow that crosses the small button has what seems to be an insect, whose form is palpable.

“Please, wait outside; we’ll send someone to lead you into an apartment soon. And Mar?”

Mar stands up, freezing and turning back to the Donna. “Yes, boss?”

“I can assure you you’re part of this now, you’re not an outsider anymore.”

Mar nods, sighing in something she can’t say —turning around, she doesn’t fail to notice the sun back again, the birds flying out the mansion’s garden and the fountain still there, functioning as if nothing happened. Where a world keeps going, her world seems to stop; or maybe time passes slower, she couldn’t know what was it, but everything felt different the moment she closed the door at her back.

#self insert #collab #dongiovannaswife #giolena #selfship #abbamar #the beginnings of it kinda still lol #i grow on him hehe #my writing #friends writing #lenaaaaaa i love your half so much aasdkjsalaskd #definitely wasn't happy stimming or anything while reading it /j #also since i'm also an abbacchio kinnie my self insert was almost pushed to go into a law enforcement route too #which i have a funny one shot idea for about our first date lol #but yeah more backstory for the fictional and way cooler mar lol

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amethystsoda · 2 years ago

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I don’t cross promote to main much, but I just want to give this a shout out!! Lena and I worked for months on this piece!!

Even if you don’t know the entire backstory, if you want to hear about adult Don Giovanna and Helena and their twins or me and Rohan and Ellie, or developing more stand lore within the Jojoverse, please give it a try 🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️

reborn and rebuilt

Collab with @softlimefluff @sunshine-shitposts 💕💕

I'm so happy to have reached this point on this arc and see how every arc from past years has culminated on this!!

Arc's Masterlist.

CW: medical stuff, suggestive content (one scene), unreality, mentions of death.

***

Fugo’s bored: it's not like he wants something to happen because if it did he'd be the first responsible for such an incident. Maybe it's just the lack of change in his surroundings that's tiring him out… Unlike the others, he doesn't want to leave his spot and have someone else monitor the cameras, too caught up wanting to do his best for the Giovanna's.

Leaning on his elbow, his hand moves every now and then, making him lose sight of the multiple cameras —however, he stops once Kishibe Rohan comes in sight, Akashi before him: judging by the way Akashi’s gesturing, he can tell he’s going on detail about one of his stories.

How could he forget the time he confessed his… Bizarre life before being a stand user: He still couldn’t believe he used to be one of Oda Nobunaga’s men.

Sighing and leaning back on his chair, he takes one long sip from his coffee, looking around until he spots Paolo and Abel by the front doors. Rome’s Capo doesn’t look so well, leaning against the wall clutching a mug—their conversation comes through the earpiece, making him stop and listen, even if it goes against his morals.

“The thing is, have you noticed how many, if not all, cultures and religions mention the number twelve?” gesturing vaguely, Paolo counts down every example with his fingers, “Twelve apostles, twelve months, twelve constellations, the twelve labors of Hercules, the twelve Greek gods. Twelve. This started in October…”

Abel nods, finishing Paolo’s sentence. “...Twelve.”

Sighing, Fugo speaks up. “Abel, you should take a break. You too, Paolo. I’ll get West and Pietro there in a second.”

***

Akashi has been ranting for a while now, drifting from anecdotes to actual gossip—and suddenly, as if reminding himself of his initial motives, the short, pink-haired man looks back into Rohan's eyes. “So, Kishibe-sensei, you know I'm a stand user, right?”

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Rohan nods, brow furrowed, almost as if he feels insulted by the question. Pondering his reply for a second, the mangaka nods: “I assume everyone in this mansion is one. Giovanna wants powerful people around to protect his family.”

Akashi scoffs, resting a hand against his katana and nodding. “That's right, man's crazy. Don't tell him I said that though!!” Walking a few steps further, Akashi looks back at Kishibe-sensei with a smile. “By the way, let me tell you something.”

Rohan's brow furrows further —and though he's suddenly reminded of Josuke's comment on how he looks like The Grinch when he frowns, he still brushes it off, letting the swordsman carry on.

“First off,” Akashi starts, a soft and relaxed sway on his walk down the hall, like he's dancing and walking at once. “Have you ever heard of Oda Nobunaga?”

Rohan scoffs. “Of course. One of the three unifiers of Japan.”

Akashi laughs, wholeheartedly. “Then you're gonna shit yourself, man!!!” His expression turns serious, pausing in the hallway a moment. “I was one of his soldiers. My stand, No Plan B, has the ability to not let me die no matter what happens to me.” After letting the information sink in, Akashi’s grin soon returns. “Like the song says: I will survive, I will survive!~”

“You’d need that ability with everything that happened back then…” Rohan muses thoughtfully, glancing at the bedroom door, so close, yet so far away.

“Right?!? You wouldn’t even believe the kind of scrapes I got into back then… I’d be glad to tell you more stories if you want, sensei! Maybe you can use 'em as material for your manga, y’know??”

Holding in a breath, Rohan attempted to calm down. Even if Akashi would be a valuable asset, he didn’t like being told what to do by a stranger. “Perhaps some other–”

“So there we were, the whole field and mountains before us, only horses, our katanas, and–”

Standing there listening, Rohan knew it was going to be a while longer before he could make the few step walk into their guest room. He narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking of some semi-polite way to escape. Just as he was ready to interrupt, Akashi's phone rang, Fugo on the other side.

“You gonna be done any time soon, killer queen?? We still have assignments, you know.”

“Oh damn, what time is it??”

“Too long… Kishibe-sensei has been glancing at the door for the past 10 minutes, dude.”

Eyes widening, Akashi hangs up and bows low, uttering apologies and backing away slowly, then running out of the hallway. Shaking his head, Rohan finally gets to the door, walking inside and very quietly shutting the door again.

Breaking into a smile, he walks over, finding Ellie asleep in a mini bed and Ari napping on the couch. Just like at home. Pulling out his phone camera, he snaps a few pics of Ellie to remember the moment and walks over to Ari, kneeling and petting her head softly.

“Ari, baby??”

She wrinkles her nose gently, letting out a soft whine, and opens her eyes slightly, groggy and still sleepy. “Mmmmmgh???”

Rohan chuckles, laying his palm on her cheek. “Go back to sleep, just wanted you to know I’m here.”

“Mmmm.” Nodding slowly, Ari closes her eyes again, one hand still holding onto his. Kissing her knuckles softly, Rohan pulls his hand away and drapes Ari’s blanket back over her. They all had a long flight and none of them slept particularly well, so he didn’t blame her for needing more rest.

Brushing a thumb over her cheek, he stands, going to make sure Ellie is okay, watching over her quietly as he checks his email.

Spam. Spam. Interview request. Fanmail. Spam. Izumi–

He opens that one, reading over her latest editorial notes:

Rohan-sensei,

In reading the new chapters you sent me, I think the concept is good, but perhaps you could make the reasons for Myo’s quest more obvious? While we all love a mystery, I believe he needs more evident drive for exploring the Coralius Library. His character, while somewhat curious, should have a better reason for being there. Pulling plot points out of thin air is possible, but not the complex and expertly planned storytelling your readers have come to expect. Please revise and turn in new storyboards (at least for the next chapter) within a week.

-Kyoka Izumi

Swearing under his breath and rolling his eyes, Rohan sits down hard on the bed, flopping back onto the covers and racking his mind for ideas.

What more reason does Myo need than pure curiosity???

Looking over at the console table, he spies a fruit basket, left there by the Giovannas.

Of course. Food. Basic sustenance. Even if they’re in the underwater city, Myo and Sana still need to eat. Perhaps there’s a cafe inside or a cultural center… A tower with many vendors like one of the areas in Shibuya… What was it, sharelounge?

Sitting up once again, Rohan opens a new note on his phone and quickly types out the new scene ideas, setting, and pacing, noting that he’ll try to make time for sketches later in the evening or the next morning. Heaven’s Door pops out, reading over Rohan’s shoulder and already forming ideas, discussing the changes with him, then claps his hands over his mouth when the noise wakes Ellie and lowers his voice to a whisper.

“I’m so sorry, master, I forgot Ellie can see and hear stands.”

Rohan waves his hand, dismissing Heaven, and walks over to the small bed, leaning down to find Ellie’s chimera-san and bring it closer to her. She grabs it with a pout and sniffles, letting out little cries once again, still upset about being in an unfamiliar place.

“Heyyy.” Rohan smiles a little, reaching to soothe Ellie. “I know it’s a little scary, but you’re okay, Ellie. You’re safe.” Petting her hair gently, Rohan sings a quiet melody to her, getting her to settle a bit before she sits up, leaning up against the bars of the crib.

“Papa?”

“Hm??”

“Up?”

Sighing and looking over at Ari, he reaches down and pulls Eliana up and out of bed, whispering, “We have to be quiet because mama is sleeping.”

She nods in his arms, clutching her toy by its snake tail. “Quiet.”

Peering into the dim light of the room, Rohan whispers “Hearts on Fire?” and is immediately greeted by Ari’s stand, who recognizes Rohan’s call.

“Rohan? What can I do for you?”

“Can you make sure Ari knows we went for a walk if she wakes up? I don’t want her to worry about Ellie.”

Hearts nods, giving Rohan a gentle smile. “Thank you for thinking of us. I’ll make sure she knows.” Giving Ellie a gentle forehead kiss, Hearts returns to her user, leaving the dull hum of energy behind her, like the static on a CRT TV after it gets turned off.

“Diaper check first, kiddo.” Making sure she doesn’t need changed, Rohan grabs their jackets and shoes, setting Ellie on the edge of the bed to get her little boots on through wiggles and tiny giggles.

When she hops down with his support, Ellie grabs chimera-san with one hand, then holds Rohan’s hand with the other, hanging on tight as they walk out of the room and shut the door gently. Looking down the hallway, Rohan walks slowly to the door leading to outside, making sure Ellie has enough time to walk without tripping.

“Outside?” Ellie looks through the glass of the door, smushing her face onto the pane to get a better look. Rohan chuckles, nodding. ‘Yeah, outside. It’s later in the season, but there’s a nice garden back here. I think the boys have a play area too.”

“Boys?”

“Mhm. Dante and Jovi. Dan and JoJo. They’re your friends, but they’re not feeling well right now. As soon as they’re better you can all play together.”

Ellie nods solemnly, holding tighter to her dad’s hand as they open the door. An electronic alarm goes off for a second, before Fugo’s voice sounds from the nearby intercom.

“Go ahead, Kishibe. We’ve got you covered. If you need anything let us know.”

Pressing the button, Rohan responds. “Thank you, Fugo, was it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re going to tour the gardens and play a bit. Ellie was getting restless.”

“Understood. I’ll let Don Giovanna know where you are if he needs you.”

“My thanks again.”

The area is fenced off for everyone’s protection, so Rohan lets go of Ellie’s hand, letting her run a bit while he watches carefully, picking up her toy and tucking it inside his jacket when she drops it in her excitement over the gardens. The flowers are mostly gone, except for a patch of drooping sunflowers. Walking up to it and tilting her head, Ellie reaches out and plucks a few bright yellow petals before gasping.

“Papa???? Papa!!!!”

Walking over, Rohan looks down. “Something wrong???”

Ellie’s eyes are welling with tears. “Put back.”

“Put what back??”

“Flower!!! Put back…”

Rohan notices she’s trying to put the petals back where they came from to no avail, and kneels down, opening his hands and taking the petals from her. “When we pluck petals off of flowers, they don’t go back, Eliana.”

“Why??” Ellie frowns, not yet understanding.

Rohan considers the complicated version, of root structures and leaves and biology, but settles on, “when you pull them off, they get separated from the base. Once they’ve left, they can’t return. There’s nothing to hold them there anymore.”

Ellie looks at the petals in her papa’s hand and at the sunflower once more. Leaning forward, she kisses the other leaves that are still intact. “I'm sorry.”

Melting, Rohan takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures, even getting when Ellie finds a ladybug on the sunflower leaf, screaming happily as she points it out and lets it crawl over her hand.

When he gets a good shot, he texts it to a few people–Tomoko, Lena, Sunnie, and to his mom and Ari’s. Everyone loved getting Ellie updates; it was the one thing he could count on quelling family drama.

As soon as he slips his phone into his pocket, he feels a tug on his jacket, and sees Ellie pointing to a play area.

Scooping her up and letting Heaven help lift her onto his shoulders, Rohan walks to the play area, still covered with layers of crunchy leaves from fall weather.

“Down!!!” Ellie demands, kicking the backs of her boots onto Rohan’s jacket.

“Okay! Hang on, hang on!”

As soon as her boots meet ground, she’s running around and screaming, carefully climbing to the top of the slide. “Papa!!! Catchme!!” Flinging herself down the slide, giggling the whole way down, Rohan runs to wait at the bottom, grabbing her up as she comes to the end, laughing and giving her tummy raspberries as she squeals.

“Again!!!!”

Rohan sets her down and she repeats the process, sliding into his arms and giggling as he swings her around. Staying in his arms this time, she puts both her tiny palms on Rohan’s face, squishing his cheeks and singing “totoooorooo totorooo.” Joining in, Rohan sings the theme from My Neighbor Totoro as they walk around, looking at all the play equipment, until they find the swingset.

Slipping into the seat safe for smaller kids, Ellie grabs onto the chains, watching carefully as Rohan starts to swing her. Keeping it at a slower speed so she doesn’t fall out, Rohan watches as she looks down and investigates the new experience. She’s never been on a swing set yet and has huge eyes, hanging on tight as she goes swinging midair.

“I thought I’d find you back here~~”

“Mama!!!!” Ellie yells, seeing Ari walk towards them with a grin.

“I got a text from my mom about the picture and woke up. Hearts let me know you were here.”

Rohan smiles apologetically. “I didn’t mean to wake you… Er, text your mom and have her wake you?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I got some rest, I feel better. Besides, I’d rather be here with you two.”

Pulling Rohan into a kiss, Ari grins, holding his jacket collars. “Daisuki.”

“Dai–”

The world changes. For an instant, the matter around them bends and warps, distorting and blending in colors and lights —the ground underneath them feels like melting ice, almost like it dissolves into nothingness.

Rohan’s instincts kick in —reaching out, his arm quickly wraps around Ari’s shoulders as his hand reaches forward for Ellie, bringing her close too.

As everything around them keeps changing and matter stops looking like itself, Kishibe holds onto his family, faintly hearing their breathings and hearts: like his senses have been momentarily enhanced, adding to the intensity of the moment.

In the blink of an eye it stops. Suddenly he’s back in the Giovanna’s yard, his wife and daughter held in his arms tightly as they look around startled, small pants and furrowed brows. Unable to let go yet, his eyes make quick work around them, trying to identify anything that might mean harm: the smallest, tiny, most insignificant thing that might put them in danger.

And when he’s unable to find anything but the security cameras and the swings and slides around them, he looks down, feeling his own sweat clinging to his forehead and the way he can almost hear the air blowing softly around them.

Questions fill his mind as silence comes in, settling down between them as he pulls Ellie from the swing and lowers her to the ground.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” A deep voice cuts in, startling all of them and making Ellie hide behind her dad’s legs, tiny hands holding onto his pants and big eyes full of fear.

By the glass door stands Don Giovanna, lips tightly pressed in a line and a coffee mug held in his hand, his expression one of strange calm, like he’s trying to keep it together for the sake of everyone. To know how he got there, or how long he had been there when Rohan looked around was the last of his worries.

Clearing his throat, Rohan slowly lets go of Ari, making sure to stay closer to her as he picks Ellie up, cradling her head close to his chest through trembling hands —words seem foreign, a mix of curses and senseless, interrogative pronouns circling in his head until his lips part but nothing comes out. Like he’s lost his ability to speak.

Ari’s hand finds his arm and he relaxes, turning to her: her lips part and for a second he’s afraid of being unable to hear her voice one more time before the sweet melody of her voice reaches his ears and his brain interprets it as sound and language:

“What’s going on?”

Giorno sighs, forgetting about his coffee for a second as he holds the cup by the lid, turns around and gestures to them back in. Following him in silence, the Kishibe’s come inside, hearing the door lock back again.

“Are you okay?” someone asks, and Rohan barely recognizes the voice as Lena’s. As he sits on the couch with Ellie in his lap playing with chimera-san, Ari reaches out for his hand, rubbing a gentle, soothing thumb over the back of his hand, replying after taking a big breath in. “I guess so?”

Coming to join them, Giorno sits by his wife’s side, setting his mug on the coffee table before him with a small ‘clink’ sound. Leaning his elbows on his thighs, he leans over, green eyes scanning the family before him with ease, almost like he’s looking for something specific: stopping on Rohan, he stands up, reaches out and taps the mangaka’s cheek with his palm until he blinks and frowns, leaning back with a scowl. “Stop that.”

Sitting down, Giorno chuckles, shoulders tense. “Now that you’re back with us, Kishibe. Let me explain.'' As his eyes take on a darker shade and his voice a serious tone, Rohan leans back, rubbing Ellie’s back, who’s suddenly too busy toying around with Ares, who purrs and stays by Rohan’s feet, looking at the infant.

Putting Ellie down to let her bond with the maine coon, Rohan and Ari look back at the couple before them, though their eyes and attention remain mostly on Giorno.

“Stands can modify time and space during their awakening phase, but you already know that, don’t you?”

Both nod, slowly, and after sharing a look, their attention lays back on Passione’s boss.

“Dr. Louis thinks that, since we’re both born stand users and one of us has had a requiem stand for years now,” he makes a pause to gesture at himself, “The boys have a higher predisposition to stronger stands. Which means the stand fever should be more aggressive.”

“Which makes the whole reality collapse worse.” Lena adds softly, a hand rubbing over her belly as the other toys nervously with her ring, eyes drifting between Rohan and Ariel while she and her husband await a response.

Rohan frowns, hands reaching up to fix his headband even though it remains perfect —taking it off, his hair falls over his eyes for a second, messy green locks slicked back with a shaking hand as he lets the fabric rest around his neck. “Let me get this straight,” he says, pulling the headband up to rest around his forehead like it usually does, then fixing his hair up and into its usual hairstyle, “You’re saying Dante and Jovi… Their stands, I mean, are messing with the whole of reality? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Of course it is.” Lena says, low and calm, despite the fear buried in her eyes. “But… We have someone who has reassured us it won't cause any real, permanent damage.”

“Han,” Ari speaks up now, much gentler and calmer. “If they know nothing will happen, then we just need to be extra careful.” she looks on through kind eyes, expecting them to say anything else, though it never comes.

Silence settles in. Unnerving, full of anxiety: Lena’s wandering eyes and Giorno’s dark eyes give off a strange aura, almost like there was something left unsolved between them. Not an argument, that was evident, but something…

Sighing, Rohan leans in, imitating Giorno’s position. “Alright, Giovanna, Speak up. You two are thinking, no; you’re worried about something.”

Chuckling, Giorno shakes his head, looking down at his shoes like they’re the most interesting thing out of nowhere: there he confesses, question shaped and broken hearted: afraid. “Does ‘soul extraction’ ring any bells?”

Quieting down, Rohan looks down at the coffee table, staring into the mug for a second —there he notes the mug is full, like they had just come here before the incident happened and Giorno decided to check on them— before he looks back, this time in Lena’s direction. “Wire requiem.”

Ari gasps now, eyes falling on the baby bump. “Wire AND Gold Experience requiem.”

Nodding, Lena speaks up now, raspy and slow, full of fear. “If what she said is true, which is most likely, then Esme…”

Giorno finishes her sentence through gritted teeth, voice raspy and full of something that he can't name nor drown out. “She will be in so much pain when the time comes.”

Rohan hums, trying to say anything that might soothe them. “But that means she’ll be extraordinarily strong, doesn’t it?”

Giorno looks back, tense: his tone one of defeat. “If I can’t stand seeing the twins like this then I don’t know how it will feel when she’s the one in bed.” His eyes soften, pained. “Seeing your kid in pain feels like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest without you being able to do something to help them, because this sh—” taking a deep breath, he tries to finish his sentence. “This thing, the stand fever… It’s up to their system to survive or not.”

A sob breaks through, and Giorno looks back to Lena, who’s now hiding her face with both of her shaking hands. Leaning back, he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer in an attempt to soothe her.

Looking up from her spot in the carpet by Ares' side, Ellie stands up and runs up to Lena's lap, where her small hands carefully lay and her big eyes look up to her with innocent worry. “Auntie Lena…” She holds up her toy, pushing it into Lena’s arms. “Here.”

Hugging onto Lena’s leg, Ellie lays her face on her Aunt’s thigh, holding on tight to comfort her. Lena looks down, eyes welling with tears at the little one’s kindness, petting her hair softly and holding the toy.

“S’okay to cry.” Ellie pats Lena’s leg once more and closes her eyes, laying there for another minute until everyone has calmed down.

“Why don’t we watch some Spy x Family and relax for a few minutes?” Rohan suggests, gesturing to the TV, trying to break the tension.

Lena nods, holding the toy back out to Ellie. “You’ll need this if we watch Miss Anya, right?”

Smiling, Ellie grabs the toy and takes Lena’s hand. “Come watch!!!” Tugging gently, she drags her Aunt to the couch, waiting for someone to put an episode on, kicking her legs over the edge of the couch and bouncing slightly.

“Is Anya your favorite?” Giorno asks, smiling over at Eliana and picking up the remote. She immediately lights up and nods over and over, giggling. “Anya!!! Anya!!!” She can say it better than the first time they watched together and Ari beams, remembering her “Ah-Ah.”

Leaning into Rohan and watching from the side, Ari tears up a little, whispering, “Rohan, she’s getting so big. When did she grow up so fast?”

He smiles and kisses Ari’s forehead, lingering there as the opening theme starts. “We’re lucky… So lucky… And she’s gonna be a stand user some day. But she’s strong. She’s already so curious and learning fast… I know she’ll make it through.”

Squeezing Ari’s hand, he pulls her close, watching as Ellie sits between Giorno and Lena, happily holding onto chimera-san and giggling as Loid puts on his bondman mask and competes to save “Princess Anya.” The room’s mood has completely changed, and while an air of uncertainty still lingers, the feeling is warmer now, worries forgotten for a few moments together.

As time flows, and a few episodes later, the tension in the room has dispersed completely, blending back into more logical thoughts and possible solutions, like Dr. Louis’ words about a way to slow down the awakening process, extra checkups and higher vitamins intake. Outside the weather pairs up, as the sun shines weakly between gray clouds and the wind toys and messes with the leaves of the trees in the yard.

The first to stand up is Giorno, who turns to Ari and Rohan with a small smile —one that shows just how grateful he is to have them around— and, laying his coat over Lena's sleeping form, the Don gestures upstairs, trying to say he's gonna check on the twins.

Walking around the couch, he pets Ellie's head, carefully not to hurt or distract her from the TV. Then, as he walks by Ari and Han, he leans over, whispering: “Giuseppe should be in the kitchen. Feel free to ask for anything.” Without waiting for a response, he keeps going, though a bit faster. Rushed.

Exchanging a puzzled look, Rohan mumbles out, “Do you think…?”

Looking back at the stairs, where Giorno's just disappeared, Ariel hums thoughtfully. “Dunno, maybe he just thought of something?”

Looking on, Rohan presses his lips together for a moment, focusing on the characters in the scene, “He seemed uncomfortable.”

Sighing, Ari imitates her husband without realizing, deep in thought for a second. “Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll talk about it later. There's a lot happening… He must be exhausted.”

“Right.”

***

Giorno's not sure how or why. But back there he could feel something —the arrow restlessly moving around like it did back when Wire Requiem awakened: paired up with that, the skin of his shoulder and scapula started to sting, the feeling reminiscent of that of a tattoo healing process.

But he's sure he doesn't have tattoos on his back. At least not for now.

Coming into their shared bedroom, his hands quickly reach back, grabbing the fabric at the back of his neck and pulling off his shirt, letting the fabric hang from one of the sleeves around his wrist, using a hand to hold the shirt close to his torso. Walking up to the bathroom, he stands before the mirror, taking a look at the tattoo on his chest. It looks fine —lines perfectly healed and the ink intact. Green eyes trail over his arm, skin clear and intact, too.

The itch comes back, stronger: it makes him turn sideways, peeking over his shoulder to take a look in the mirror.

His eyes land on the star-shaped birthmark between the top of his scapula and his shoulder. The color is the same, he notes, and as he runs a gentle fingertip over it, the sting becomes unbearable, makes him hiss through gritted teeth: despite that, he still touches again, making sure the texture hasn't changed, trying to see if there's something around it—tissue or rash—though nothing seems to have changed, except for the fact that it stings like hell.

Stopping to think for a second, his mind runs over the possible, momentarily, solution. Tapping it like he usually would do with an itchy tattoo is not an option: fabric doesn't exactly hurt. However, his skin feels hot, almost like it's upset.

Tapping on the faucet in the sink before him, his palm forms a cup, where he waits until a bit of water pools. Then, using his palm, he makes sure to tap gently in the zone, feeling the sting calm down for a bit until it disappears, leaving back the faint sensation of pain.

Should I tell Lena? She's gonna find out sooner or later… But lately she's been so sensitive. Maybe not. Maybe Rohan or Ariel could help, or… maybe Bocelli? He's a doctor, if anything he should be the first to know and let me know if there's something wrong with me. But right now doesn't feel like the right time. I want to see Dan and Jojo healthy again.

Sighing and reaching out, he makes quick work to dry his hand and wait until the few drops of water dry so he can put his shirt back on, and finally, leave towards the twins' bedroom.

Knocking on the door and coming in without expecting an answer, Giorno stands in the doorway, eyes overlooking the scenario before him.

Dr. Bocelli stands up from the desk, where he had been writing notes. “Son, we have great news.”

“Oh?” Eyes lighting up, he comes into the room, closing the door behind him. Once he's standing before the three doctors —Bocelli, Rebecca and Joshua— his hands entwine behind his back, waiting for them to speak up in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Dr. Rebecca Louis takes a seat by Bocelli's side, a small and professional smile lifting the corners of her lips. “We're starting to notice improvement on the treatment. The fever is finally coming down.”

Before Giorno can reply, Dr. Joshua López speaks up, relaxed now that his dear friend is there with him (after being told the Don was not going to hurt him). “If we keep going like this then we think they should be conscious and alert by evening.”

Nodding, Gio takes a quick look at the clock in the wall behind the team of medical professionals: 2:21 PM.

Looking back, he makes eye contact with every single one of them, “Six hours, then?"

Dr. Bocelli replies now, calmer —his voice tired, barely hiding the relief behind his words. “It's only a supposition. See,” gesturing at the sleeping boys, the old man keeps going, “Their expression has softened and they're actually sleeping and resting now. When fever is that high, the body works only to protect itself, especially the brain. Now that we've managed to get a hold on it, they should be able to adapt after their cells have mutated and settled down.”

Sighing, Giorno's lips slowly but surely turn up into a smile, the green of his eyes softening to a teal shade and his shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.”

Bocelli gestures vaguely, a grin spreading through his features. Warm, like a father would smile and comfort a pained son. “It's our duty, Giogio. Go tell your wife and friends, they must be so worried and exhausted.”

“I think I’ll call down and see if everyone can join us up here.”

Pulling out his phone, Giorno calls Rohan, inviting everyone up to the twins’ room for a status update. In a few minutes, everyone has gathered and Giorno repeats the same information told to him, while Ellie holds Ari’s hand and stares at the twins.

Walking towards them slowly, Ellie hops up onto the bed, crawling between Dante and Jovi and grabbing one hand from each of them. Leaning over, Ellie presses a gentle kiss to Jovi’s face, then Dante, and lays down, squeezing their hands. “S’ ok.”

Closing her eyes, Ellie rests quietly, still holding the twins’ hands and starts to fall asleep, comfortable between them.

The monitors that had been keeping track of the twins’ heart rate (which had been slightly elevated during the entire stand fever), finally even out and slow. Dr. Louis, who had been observing carefully, walks to the twins and feels their forehead, noting that their temperature has decreased even more.

In a whisper, she smiles up at Rohan and Ari and says, “We need to keep an eye on Ellie’s stand powers. I have a feeling she inherited a bit of both her parents’ skills.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, walking over as well. “She’s not…?”

“No.” Dr. Louis shakes her head. “Only early stages, but there’s faint traces of stand energy.”

Standing, she walks to the Kishibe’s. “Perhaps we can get a hold of a pendant for Eliana. We’ve been researching how to slow the stand awakening ever since my own daughter’s experience. There’s a special type of meteorite that seems to affect the body’s energy fields on the same wavelength as the stand virus. It’s not a permanent fix, but it would keep her from awakening too early.”

Rohan looks over at Ellie, sleeping next to the twins. “Please. We would be grateful.”

Ari speaks up next, “Our friend Sunnie at the Dallas SPW branch has a special interest in minerals and rocks. I’m sure she could help us find the right stone if you give us the information.”

“I’ll send it to you right now.”

Walking over to the desk, Dr. Louis boots up her laptop and searches her files before taking a screenshot and texting it to Ari’s cell phone. “There. Let me know what Sunnie finds.”

“Han, come with me?? Ellie will be safe up here with everyone watching her…”

Reluctantly, he leaves the room with her, going to join the call with Sunnie and Dio.

***

“Here.” Stopping before Giorno's studio, Akashi holds the door open. “The bosses gave me orders to stay in with you, if you don't mind.”

Shrugging, Rohan steps aside, letting Ari walk in first before he follows, taking a look around the studio: it's big and spacious, with the proper lighting and white walls barely noticeable due to the bookshelves all around. Taking a quick look, one can realize the books there go from history and economics to anatomy and philosophy. Almost like there's a bit of everything in there. The desk is clean, only a Justitia statue on the right.

Coming in last, Akashi hums, closing the door behind him. Hands inside his pockets, the swordsman sways from side to side as he walks, leaning beside the window on the left. “I take it you don't mind, then. Go on, I won't interrupt.”

“Thank you.” Sitting on the couch, Ari pulls her phone out, checking her connection and battery first as Rohan roams around, stopping once the manga collection comes into sight —a few Bleach volumes, followed by the Jujutsu Kaisen volumes up to the most recent… And there it was: Pink Dark Boy.

Reaching out, his fingers ghost over the first volume, nostalgia bringing back memories from those days when Pink Dark Boy was just starting to be a thing… Back when the idea of a family wasn't there yet, let alone a wife. Now his life had changed for the better and he couldn't be happier: if there was truly a benevolent god, then—

“Ah, yes.” Akashi's voice cuts through his inner monologue, making him snap from his daydream. “Don Giovanna's truly a fan of your work. Every time there's a new chapter he stops everything to read it and comments on it with the Donna.” Chuckling, the short pink-haired swordsman gestures around the manga collection Rohan's standing before. “They've been waiting for a fanbook, too.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Rohan stops and his smile stays there as Akashi keeps talking so fast he almost can't grasp everything he's saying;

“Which makes me think of that one anime movie that got lost in the 80's, ever heard of that? Man, it was so good, such a shame it didn't make it to the public!” hands on his hips, Akashi tilts his head aside, “I can't remember what it was called, but then again I've been through a lot of places and met a lot of people. That makes me think of the time I met Stan Lee and didn't even realize: so I was roaming through the streets, okay? Fresh out of a shower, and this man was waiting to cross the street—Wait, why don't you just read me, Kishibe-sensei?”

“Read you?” Frowning, Rohan takes a step forward, cautious. “How do you know about my stand?”

Akashi shrugs, his tone so natural it almost sounds like a weather forecast. “The Intelligence division makes us read a report before every mission: and if there are updates, we read about them too.”

Raising a finger, he stops Rohan from talking.

“No, Non, Nein: it's not me you should get mad at, that should be Fugo's fault. Actually, that should be Giovanna's fault, 'cause he's the boss and all that. Uhm, I think…” raising a finger to his lips, he taps against it twice, mumbling to himself. “I shouldn't have said that, if he finds out he's gonna kill me: but it's not like I'll stay dead so…” Letting his arms fall at each side of his body, Akashi finally shrugs, finishing his rant. “Yeah, man's crazy and I'm just doing my job… And I'm bored.”

Before Rohan can react or say anything else, Akashi's Cheshire cat smile disappears, replaced with pursed lips and dull eyes as his chin tilts up forward. “Your call's starting, Kishibe-sensei.”

“How…?”

Ari motions Rohan over, waiting as he pulls over the nearby ottoman and stares at the screen. Sunnie’s number is already in, the call ringing a few times before finally picking up, revealing a very pregnant Sunnie in the arms of her lover, Dio.

“Hi!!! Ari! Rohan-sensei!!!”

“Hello!” Ari waves, giving her a grin. “Sorry, did we wake you??”

Sunnie shook her head. “Nah, just lazy morning snuggles with D… Pretty sleepy this many months along with the kid.”

“Of course…” Ari smiles, watching them for a minute, then remembering the purpose of the call. “So we’re in Naples here with the Giovanna’s right now because the twins are going through the stand fever…”

Dio’s eyes go wide, staring intently at the screen. “Are they alright???”

Rohan leans over, nodding. “They will be. They’re doing much better than this morning.”

Reaching his arm back to rub over his Joestar birthmark, Dio winces, feeling the familiar sting that has been radiating off the mark since this morning. He hadn’t made any connection to the current situation until now.

“How… How is Giorno holding up?”

Ari seems surprised for a second, then purses her lips, holding Rohan’s hand tighter. “He’s doing his best. Trying to be strong for his family. But it’s… It’s hard for everyone, seeing the twins so sick.”

Dio nods, reaching for his wife’s hand as well. “I know it may not mean much yet, but. Please tell GioGio and Helena that we are thinking of them.”

Both Ari and Rohan nod, giving a small smile to the camera. “We will.”

Chuckling, Sunnie leans into Dio, closing her eyes as she holds the bump. “I assume this wasn’t just a social call? What’s up?”

Ari pulls up her phone, tapping into her and Sunnie’s messages. “I actually have something I need your help with. A rare mineral. I’m sending you the stats now.”

“Oooooh!!!” Sunnie bolts up at the mention of rocks and dives for her phone, eagerly poring over the image and documentation Ari had gotten from Dr. Louis.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it looks like cosmic honeycomb!!!” Sunnie shows the picture to Dio, then zooms in on the specifications. “Does this relate to the stand fever at all??”

Ari nods, closing her phone. “We need a pendant of some form for Eliana. Dr. Louis says that the structure and materials interact with the same wavelength as the stand virus. Because the stand virus comes from a rare meteorite, they’ve experimented with other meteorites’ influence on it. This particular one acts as a safety net, masking the stand user’s energy signature and slowing down the manifestation process.”

“That’s cool as fuck!!” Sunnie grins, setting her phone down on the bump and listening as Ari finishes.

“Yeah! It won’t stop the process completely, not that we’d want to, but it makes the stand awakening a bit easier. Dante and Jovi’s came on so suddenly that we didn’t have any warning. We don’t want that to happen to Ellie, if possible…”

“I’ll hunt around with some local collectors and see if they know where to get something like that. Imma text you when I know more… Anything else before we go?”

“Nah, that’s about it. You doing okay?”

Sunnie laughs, holding onto her stomach. “Yeah. I’m okay. This watermelon of a baby is wearing me out though, and we still have another month or more to go…”

“We’ve been there.” Ari smiles, wiggling her fingers at the screen. “Get lots of rest and snacks and fresh air.”

Dio points towards the table, puffing out his chest. “I always have snacks covered, you need not worry about that.”

“You do, D.” Sunnie pats his arm reassuringly, kissing his cheek. “I can always count on you.”

“Do you…” Ari hesitates, grabbing the edge of her sweater. “Do you think you two and Giorno will get to meet sometime soon? I know the SPW Dallas incident was too soon to meet, but… Getting it over with might calm some of the tension for both parties. I hate to see both of you so anxious whenever the other is mentioned…”

“When the time is right.” Dio nods, tapping a clawed-finger on his thigh. “Perhaps after the child has arrived, we can make plans.”

“I understand.” Ari bites her lip this time, reaching a pinkie finger out for Rohan to hold. “I can promise Don Giovanna and his wife are amazing. They’re some of our closest friends, and even though the Don seems intimidating, especially when his stand is so powerful, they’re unlike anyone else on the planet. I think you would be really proud of your alternate universe’s son.”

Choking back emotion, Dio nods solemnly, pressing a hand to Sunnie’s stomach. “I do not doubt that, but I would like to welcome my own progeny into the world first, then make amends with the son fate has given me. One step at a time.”

Rohan sighs, looking up at Akashi. “I think we have to go soon, but thank you for sharing your time with us. And Ari means no harm or prying, I know. We all would be grateful if the various Speedwagon Foundations can work together.”

“Do not worry.” Dio lets out a small fanged grin. “I have more experience dealing with human emotions than in the past. Sunnie has been letting me view a show called ‘Bluey,’ and I have found the family dynamics and discussions most helpful.”

Rohan chuckles, shaking his head. “We haven’t watched that one yet, do you think Ellie would like it?”

Sunnie’s face immediately fills the tablet screen, leaning in, excited. “SHE WOULD LOVE IT, YOU HAVE TO WATCH BLUEY!!!!!”

“I’ll add it to our list!” Ari smiles, waving at the screen. “We’ll talk again soon, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah!!! I’ll get on the pendant right away.”

“Thank you. We really appreciate your hard work.”

“Nah. It’s fun for me. I love this kinda stuff.” Sunnie wiggles on the couch, excited to get hunting.

“Still, thanks…” A moment of silence passes, and Ari laughs, leaning forward. “Okay, we should probably hang up.”

“Probably. Who’s gonna say goodbye?” Sunnie laughs too, used to the neurodivergent urge to keep talking and never end the conversation.

“You first.”

“No, you.”

“Oh, wait! I have a post I need to send you, hang on!!” Ari grabs for her phone, scrolling through her dashboard.

“Okay, well, send it in a minute, I’m hanging up!!”

“OKAY, BYE, I LOVE YOU!!” Ari grins as the screen blinks out, returning to the home screen. Petting her hair gently, Rohan leans over and plants a kiss on Ari’s forehead. She hums, standing and pulling him up next to her. “Glad to see they’re doing okay.”

He nods, slipping an arm around her waist then glancing over at their chaperone. “Akashi?”

The pink-haired man glances up, his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Can you go update the Giovanna’s with the conversation? Ari and I are going back to the room for a bit.”

“Do you need an escort?”

Rohan shakes his head no, pulling out Heaven’s Door. “I have backup in case of emergencies.”

“Right, of course. I’ll go now and make sure they know the gist of everything.”

Ari walks forward, clasping one hand over the other, addressing Akashi. “Don’t hesitate to let us know if Ellie wakes up and needs something. We don’t want her to be too scared, even though she knows everyone pretty well.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kishibe. We’ll let you know.” Giving a small bow, Akashi slips out of the room, communicating with Fugo on his way back to the Giovannas’ room.

Ari and Rohan, meanwhile, step into the hall, navigating the mansion maze until they find their way back. Slipping into their room, the couple lays on the bed together, staring up at the ceiling fan as the cool air washes over them and Ari shivers.

“Rohan... Where do we even start from today?”

Rolling over, Rohan quietly sits up and puts one leg over his wife, straddling her hips and laying down onto her chest, his face gently smooshed onto her breasts and talking with a slightly muffled voice.

“There’s a lot to untangle… The new stand powers and just. The unknowns. The future.”

Rohan closes his eyes, planting himself face first into her chest until he needs air, then tilting his head back out with a gasp. Ari chuckles, petting his hair quietly and whispering to him.

“I think it’s worse sitting with this anxiety. Knowing we’ll pretty much be powerless over the process.”

Nodding, Rohan finds Ari’s hand and laces his fingers between hers. “If we both fought through the stand virus, then we know we’ve given Eliana her best chance. Hopefully we’ve transferred some genetic ability to adapt to the stand mutation when the time comes. She may be sensitive, just like her parents, but she’s also strong.”

Rohan leans up, making eye contact with Ari. “Neither of us would be here right now with manifested stands if we didn’t have some fighting spirit.”

Smiling gently, Ari pushes Rohan’s headband up and kisses his forehead, wrapping her arms around him and sighing deeply. “We can help guide her and make sure she’s healthy, but we can’t manifest a stand for her. That’s part of her own story to write.”

Scooting up a little, Rohan puts a hand on either side of Ari, as her hands still drape around his neck. “It’ll all work out.” He leans down, pulling a soft kiss from her, then kissing across her face–one cheek, then the other, and over her nose and eyes, taking his time. “We have all the time in the world right now…”

Smiling up at her husband, Ari pulls him closer, finding his lips again and slipping a hand into the back of his hair, dragging her nails though his undercut, making him break the kiss and inhale sharply.

“Ari–” Rohan’s voice comes out in a warning whisper, frozen in the moment.

“Yes?~” She has a mischievous glint in her gaze, teasing and toying with him, even after their serious moment.

Rohan sighs, giving in easily. “Just try to keep quiet~”

***

He’s been alive for a long, long time. He’s been and seen too much, has felt too much pain, both emotional and physical: his whole existence has consisted of traveling around the world, bored and alone, seeking something to cure his loneliness and the strange, bone-chilling question that keeps plaguing his mind.

Akashi does not remember his full name at all. He isn’t sure if his last name is actually Akashi, or if it had been one random name he had picked along the way. For decades, he had been roaming the world, learning and watching, lost until that day he had finally had enough and decided to lay down in Rome’s streets, where Abel had met him.

Abel Agreste, Rome’s Capo, had reassured him his boredom could be solved by Don Giovanna and his Passione, and though that was true, there was still an ounce of the feeling remaining, like he had become addicted to boredom like one would turn sadness into a necessity.

To him, emotions and vulnerability did not come easily, both from his backstory in the war and the culture and period he was born in and now from his reputation: but even then, a few persons knew about his doubts and worries: one of them, perhaps the most compassive and pure man he had ever met before, had always been open to listen to him: Bocelli Enzo, the man who had killed his son’s assassins and had gave up on his medical ethics, turned Passione’s doctor and probably the boss’ most closest thing to a father.

Bocelli had said his brain was damaged, both from the constant fights —where he didn’t care about hurting himself— and the psychological trauma his stand kept causing with the constant death and coming back to life loop to the point of causing something he had called dissociative amnesia.

To him, his only hope was Kishibe Rohan: ever since he had read about his abilities on that report, his hopes of finally knowing his identity had resurrected, though it seemed nothing he said about his past experiences arised the mangaka’s curiosity.

Then again, the situation wasn’t the best backdrop for getting his wish fulfilled. Maybe someday he could ask for a favor…

Knocking on the door to the twins’ bedroom, Akashi clears his throat up as he twists the doorknob, standing awkwardly on the doorframe for a second.

“Akashi?” Giorno calls from his spot on the couch by Jojo’s bed, “What’s wrong?”

Blinking twice, his smile comes back and though he notices Giorno’s knowing look, he still plays along, “First off, just saw Dio Brando and for fucks sake, you’re a carbon copy of him, but like, with green eyes,” walking forward, he takes his hands out his pockets, gesturing around vaguely as he starts to explain. “So, it seems like little Ellie will get a nice pendant to keep the stand fever controlled, or that’s what I understood from all that: keywords are meteorite and pendant. And again, boss,” taking a seat by Lena’s side, Akashi finishes with a: “You and Dio Brando look almost the same. But like, your sons look like you so that must be a family thing. Oh, and he sent his well wishes for the twins’ recovery.”

Nodding, Giorno brushes off the comments about his father, not knowing exactly how to reply or feel about them and, as he looks at the twins, his frown softens and he replies. “Got it, thank you.”

Taken aback by his response, Akashi slowly looks back at Lena, eyebrow arched and mouth agape.

“Be patient with him, ‘Kashi.” Lena whispers, leaning a bit to meet him. “That’s not something he can talk about yet.”

Nodding, Akashi brings his right hand up, imitating a zipper over his mouth as he closes it, leaning back into the couch.

Silence settles in, strange: the calm it brings feels unsettling, but still, the brief moment doesn’t last long before Giorno speaks up, soft and calm:

“We should probably get one for Esmeralda too, Lena.”

Rubbing at the bump, Lena nods, feeling a foot meet her touch —a warm smile spreads through her features, much calmer and at ease than before. “Agreed. We’ll talk about that once she’s born.”

“Well, my hunger was born first,” Standing up, Akashi swiftly cuts off the conversation, “I'm gonna go and ask Giuseppe for something, maybe some paella.” turning around and extending a hand out to Lena, he asks, “Want something, boss?”

Chuckling, Giorno gestures forward when Lena looks at him, his words warm and calm. “Go on, honey, you need to eat.”

Taking Akashi’s hand to stand up, Lena grins, returning the gesture. “I’ll go, but after I’m done you’ll have something too.”

“Okay, deal. Akashi, take care of her.”

Guiding her to the door, Akashi nods, “Yeah, yeah, I will!”

***

Coming into the kitchen, a high-pitched voice with a bit of an accent welcomes Akashi and Lena. “Good afternoon! How can I help you?”

Giuseppe De Niro, the occasional chef for the Giovanna family, a middle aged man with big brown eyes and dark hair kept up into a hair net grins from the other side of the kitchen as he covers a bowl with cling film, hands in his hips and a patient look as he waits.

“Giuseppe, Giuseppe, oh Giuseppe~” faking a pout, Akashi comes closer, retrieving a chair from the bar and holding a hand out for Lena to sit down. Then, as she makes herself comfortable and he's sitting before the chef, his hands rub at his stomach. “I really want some paella, think you can do it?”

“Of course,” nodding, Giuseppe turns to Lena, a much gentler look thrown her way. “What about you, Donna? Is there something you're craving specifically or…?”

“Mhm,” leaning her chin on the palm of her hand, she tilts her head aside, thinking for a second: “I'll have the same.”

“Sure. It should be ready in twenty, if that's okay?”

“No worries,” gesturing with her free hand, Lena gives him a warm smile, watching him turn around and start working. By her side Akashi has quietened, eyes glued to the granite bar.

Passing an arm behind him, her palm rubs at his back in circles, whispering; “What is it?”

“Uh?” Looking back, his pink orbs drift between her eyes frantically before his shoulders slump down and he sighs heavily, smacking his head against the countertop, voice muffled when he speaks up. “I wanted to ask, I really did, but… I don't think this is the right time.”

Rubbing at his back again, she looks forward, watching Giuseppe work for a while. Her lips part, and by the time she looks back, Akashi's already sitting straight with the skin of his forehead red and his eyes wide open, like a wild cat.

“Akashi,” she starts, “Wire can read the memories of your soul, but only when you've passed away, which is something you can't do… But, uhm, what I'm trying to say is I would help if I could. But I can't.”

Sighing, Akashi rubs at his eyes. “I know, that's why Kishibe's the only option. But in this situation, with reality collapsing and all that, it's dangerous to try. Even I know that.”

Looking forward and accepting the glass of water Giuseppe offers to each of them, Lena replies. “But this won't be the last time you'll see him. Besides, your problem was caused by your stand: the Foundation would gladly help. I'm sure I can make a request for the Morioh branch.”

Setting his empty glass down, Akashi looks back with eyes full of hope and his usual smile back: “Okay, but promise I won't be an experiment like that time when—”

“Yep.” she cuts him off, gesturing for him to stop, “That's not happening again.”

“Eureka!” throwing his arms up, Akashi grins, pointing at Giuseppe, who's just turning around to set both dishes before them. “Giuseppe, celebrate with me!”

“Uhm,” imitating him, Giuseppe mirrors his words and movements, though much less enthusiastic, since he didn't understand the context. “Eureka?”

“Yeah!” taking a napkin and turning to Lena, Akashi nods twice, excited. “Thank you, boss! And Giuseppe,” turning to him, he bows, taking the first bite of his food and talking with his mouth full. “This better be good.”

Laughing, Giuseppe nods, turning back to start with another recipe, “I can assure you it will. Anything else I can do?”

“Yeah,” Lena replies now, “Could you send some food to Fugo and the rest?”

“Sure!” turning to her again, Giuseppe leans on the bar, setting his chin on his hand. “Any special menu?”

Humming, she toys with the fork in her hand, “Lasagna and gelato? Everyone's working hard so… They deserve it.”

Nodding, Giuseppe takes a pen and a small notebook from his apron, quickly writing down. Then, he looks back, eyebrows arched. “What about the Don?”

Cheeks warming up, she lights up considerably at the mention of her husband. “He'll come after we're done, he's with the boys.”

“Is that so?” leaning back and leaving the notebook aside, Giuseppe twirls the pen with the fingers of his right hand, “I'm looking at him right now, though.”

Immediately looking back and finding Giorno under the doorway, Akashi gasps and gulps down, hitting his chest so the feeling of food restricting his airway goes away —hand reaching out to Lena, then pointing at Giorno dramatically.

Turning around, she gasps, cheeks turning a deep shade of red as he walks into the kitchen and looking at Giuseppe, he says: “I'll have spaghetti alla carbonara,” then, as he comes closer, his hand cups her face, thumb rubbing over her cheek before he sits down by her side, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Who's with the kids?” she asks, setting her fork down.

Accepting the glass of water that Giuseppe sets before him, Gio takes a small sip. “The medical team and Vivianne. Ellie's still asleep and the twins' heart rate has come back to normal.”

Sighing relieved, Lena nods, finally calm enough to start eating. By her side Akashi leans over the bar, looking at Giorno.

“So, Giogio. I know I said it before, but Brando really seemed… Interested, worried, or just… With the intention to be present in your life, when Mrs. Kishibe mentioned the boys' fever. I think he means well.”

Eyes softening and shoulders relaxing, Giorno meets Akashi's eyes. “I know. But, as much as I want to meet him… It seems like the time will not come soon.”

Shaking his head, the pink-haired swordsman presses his lips into a fine line and when he speaks up, his voice has a certain nostalgic tone, “The time will come when it has to. Don't rush it. Just wanted to let you know that this Dio… Is much different than the one described in reports and anecdotes.”

Giorno's mind drifts to Jotaro Kujo —the troubled and uncomfortable relationship with him, tense and always weird. He could only wonder if he knew about the Dallas Board from the start. No, he could wonder if they got along or if they were still trying to fight. But again, it looked like there was someone keeping him from doing all the things Prime Dio would.

And that was probably Sunnie.

“Earth calling Giorno, earth calling Giorno!”

Blinking, he looks on, eyes landing on both Akashi and Lena's worried looks as the swordsman sways his arm from side to side, grinning when he finally seems conscious.

“Your food's ready, boss! Eat before you pass out, I'll go back to Abel.” standing from his chair, Akashi bows in Giuseppe's direction as he leaves, hand resting atop his katana handle.

“Thank you, 'Kashi!” Lena shouts, watching him go. Turning to her husband, she chuckles, noticing the sauce left on the corner of his lips. Taking a napkin, she wipes his lips carefully while he chuckles, letting her help.

“I got you, baby.”

Food goes by between sweet conversations and bright smiles. Soon, both go back to the twins' room, making sure everyone's eating.

As they sit down, Giorno's eyes drift to the clock in the wall: 6:16 PM. Hopeful, he looks on, knowing the wait is almost over.

A faint whimper makes him look back, eyes immediately noticing Eliana rolling to the side and slowly, her small aqua green eyes open up, finding the world before her.

Brushing her hand across his arm, Lena stands up before he can, approaching Ellie with a warm smile and slow steps, “Hey, baby. Are you hungry?”

Sitting up, Ellie looks around her and, unable to find her parents, her eyes fill with tears and she whimpers, looking back at her aunt her voice comes out tiny and heavy with sleep. “Mama? Papa?”

“Hey, 's okay.” Sitting down on the bed, Lena reaches out for Ellie, helping her sit with her. “They're here.” a gentle hand combs through her hair, trying to make it look somehow better and letting Ellie grasp her hand.

“Where?” the little girl asks, looking around the room frantically, still coming out of her sleepy state and disoriented. As someone stands up from one of the couches, Ellie looks at them intently until he comes near and his face seems familiar.

“Hey,” Westwood whispers, kneeling before her. “I heard there's a princess waiting to be taken back to her castle?”

Ellie looks back, finally recognizing Lena and the rest of the team, tears still there, though her fears long forgotten. “Auntie!”

“Yeah!” Grinning, Lena turns to West, then back at Ellie, “He's here to take you to mama and papa! Like a knight!”

Intrigued, Ellie scoots off the bed and hops down, slowly approaching West. “Knight?”

Following along, Westwood takes his mask off, bowing down with an exaggerated gesture of his hand. “Princess Kishibe, if I may take you to King Kishibe's castle?”

Ellie finally plays along, jumping excitedly and bowing too. Westwood stands up, offering his hand to her, and exchanges one last look with Giorno and Lena, making sure to shield Ellie with his stand, then guide her out of the room.

“Princess Kishibe, the road ahead holds multiple dangers, may I carry you there?”

“Mhm! Up!" Extending her arms out, chimera-san still in tow, Westwood's chest swells with happiness as he takes her into his arms, fixing her hair and outfit the best he can and, as he walks down the hall, he makes sure to wipe her tears and improve her mood to the best.

Stopping before the Kishibe’s door, he knocks twice, feeling his face warm up as soon as Rohan swings the door open, headband around his neck and hair disheveled.

“Ellie!” he says, surprised. Reaching out, Ellie quickly reaches back to him, leaning forward and jumping into her father’s arms.

“King Kishibe,” Westwood starts, ignoring Rohan's confused look, “Now that I've brought the princess back, I'll keep working.” Turning around, he almost runs back, hearing Ellie's laughter.

Closing the door behind him, Rohan grins, setting her down. “Well then, princess? The queen must be waiting for you.”

Already sitting up in bed, Ari reaches out, helping Ellie climb up onto the covers. “Princess, huh?~”

“Yes!! Knight helped!”

“Well then,” joining them, Rohan shares a knowing look with Ari, “We should make sure to properly thank him later.”

8:18 PM. Giovanna household.

“This is not a drill, everyone who has an earpiece must take it off and turn the volume up in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight.—” The sudden message startles those with an earpiece: la unità and la squadra’s members freeze in their spots, doing as told right after: there, Fugo’s voice comes up after the robotical voice from before, his tone neutral despite the scary message.

“We’re experiencing an unknown threat.” He stops, as if trying to find a logical explanation to his words. “Time has stopped. Please seek immediate shelter. The Kishibe’s must be protected. All Capos close to the twins’ room must arrive and follow Don Giovanna’s instructions. Do not leave the property before we know what’s happening.”

The message ends there, leaving behind confused looks and pursed lips: trembling hands and fear creeping up spines and nervous systems.

“How does he even know?” Paolo mumbles, standing up from the grass in the yard, “If time really stops then we wouldn’t even be able to do anything. Hell,” taking his mask from his pocket, the scientist toys with the fabric, “Motion wouldn’t even be possible.” putting it on, he fixes the fabric around his mouth and nose until he’s sure it’s perfect. “But it’s not like stands care that much about physics.”

Coming into the mansion, the first thing Paolo sees is pure chaos —Vivianne and the other members of la unita rushing upstairs, Fugo coming out of his office with his laptop, Abel and Akashi preparing their weapons in the corner and last, Vittorio at the top of the stairs, hands behind his back.

The latter, as soon as he notices Paolo, points to his right. “Paolo, with the Kishibes. Someone will join you soon. You know our orders, right?”

Jogging upstairs (having to take it slower or straight out stop to prevent accidents) Paolo finally reaches Vittorio's side, stopping only to reply in a whisper. “No one can ignore the magnitude of this event, Vittorio. It's bizarre.”

Watching him turn down the hall, Vittorio looks forward, mumbling to himself. “That's the perfect word to describe the situation.” Giving one last look to his team and husband, he leaves to take his position outside of Giorno’s studio.

Soon, some of the members from la unità and la squadra stand around the twins' room, some around the mansion and others in the halls —Fugo has moved to Giorno's studio, Abel and Akashi stand by the main doors, katana and gun in hand ready to attack, defend… Or die.

In the room, nothing has changed, the medical team running around the room performing tests and monitoring the boys as their vitals even out to normal. By the toddlers' sides, both their parents sit, waiting and hoping.

Someone speaks up and the sound only has a few of them turning, anxious:

“Donna, shouldn't we keep you company somewhere else? What if…” Rubbing his hands together, Pietro looks down at them, staring at his wedding ring. “If something happens and we have to fight… Then we should prioritize you, because I suppose you shouldn't fight in your—”

“Mommy?”

Giorno's look makes everyone quiet down as the tension grows and the mystery remains unsolved. Still, Lena looks back at Jovi, melting at the sight of his grabby hands and reaching out to help him stand up, her eyes follow every movement as the boy holds onto her shoulders —soft pink cheeks and sleepy green eyes, hair (that had lost its curls months before, remaining as wavy strands now) disheveled and skin finally back to its fair tone.

“What's wrong, baby?” Mumbling her question, Lena keeps her hand on Jovi's back, watching through calm and loving eyes as the toddler fiddles with one of her curls, shy and tired still, seeming to struggle to find the proper words.

The boy looks back, letting go of her hair and instead, he blinks slowly, mumbling his question: “Cuddles, mommy?”

With a hum, Lena makes him turn sideways and sit on her lap, wrapping an arm around his back and using the other to keep his IV attached to the back of his hand, passing the IV tubing above her shoulder. Cradling his head close to her chest, she starts humming a tone, slowly rocking back and forth, feeling his tiny hands hold on the fabric of her dress.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead and using the momentum to look around the room, Lena nods in Giorno's direction. His tense shoulders relax and he stands up slowly, hands shaking but still he walks up closer, sitting before his wife and younger son. His left hand reaches out and his fingers run through his hair. The boy sighs deeply, the kind of sigh that shows just how comfortable and warm he is –safe in his mother's arms with his father watching over him and his brother.

Sighing, Gio stands up, turning to Dante and, taking him in his arms, he makes sure to cradle his head close to his chest —a habit both had ever since the first time he held them. Almost like they always sought his heart in order to sleep peacefully. As Bocelli makes sure the IV remains in its place, Dante stirs awake, blinking up at Giorno and, through his exhaustion, he smiles.

The action makes Giorno chuckle, caressing the toddler’s cheek with the back of his hand, “Hey, buddy. Missed you too.”

Dante hums, hand unconsciously grabbing into Giorno’s coat: voice tiny and sleepy eyes, he asks: “Daddy?”

“Hmm?” Sitting besides Lena, Gio exchanges a quick look with her, then looks back at Dante, who’s observing his twin intently, as if trying to make him look back.

Dante looks back into Giorno’s eyes, his own full of hope and innocence, the kind only a child could ever show and then he asks: “Piano man?”

Jovi stirs awake too, almost as if he hadn’t been asleep and blinking to try and get the tiredness off his eyes, he still tries to join the conversation, eyes lighting up upon the mention of the song that has become his and Dante’s favorite ever since they heard it on his father’s office while Giorno was signing a few documents.

Surprised, it takes a moment for Giorno to react —looking back at Lena, she’s still looking between them, worried and scared, maybe thinking the worst, the possibilities of any kind of brain damage during the long episode of fever seem to come to her mind. Still, he retrieves his phone from his pocket, finally catching her attention. There, and even if his hands shake and everyone’s looking at them, he opens the app music. Scrolling through his library, his mouth runs dry and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Every now and then, the boys look around the room, slowly waking up and recognizing those around them.

Sighing, the realization that he could just browse through artist, album or song title strikes him and, feeling his cheeks burn, he taps on the search bar icon atop the app menu, typing the first letters of the song title until it pops up, displaying song name, album, artist and year.

Piano Man. Piano Man. Billy Joel. 1973.

Taking a deep breath, he taps on it and soon, the first piano notes start, followed by a soft harmonica that seems to reply to the piano, syncing into a peaceful and melancholic melody. The boys sway from side to side, warm smiles and tired eyes closing for a bit as the song starts and Billy starts to sing.

Looking up, Giorno smiles, finding Lena’s eyes filled with tears and grinning as the twins relax in their arms, not quite understanding the depressing undertone behind the song, that was probably inspired by Billy Joel’s attempt to get out of a bad record deal —not realizing the people mentioned there are all real people he played for as the piano man, whom everyone relied on to get over their daily life sadness and problems.

Dante leans forward and Giorno uses his arm to prevent him from falling, allowing him to lean closer to his twin. Reaching out, Dante finally touches Jovi’s arm, catching his attention. Jovi, conscious, smiles back at his twin, holding his hand like they’ve always done.

Right as their hands meet the room spins, lights flicker and then it stops.

There, everything happens in a flash: the twins' hands slowly pull apart until there's a space in between them. In the middle of that space, green, blue and golden sparks spin around an invisible core, slowly absorbing into it and forming a small black mass —slowly, the mass starts to shift, becoming much larger and white, displaying a black dot at the top that slowly grows and takes its own shape. By the time it stops growing, the shape remains as a rectangular, long piece of wood with one single black line in the middle. Though there’s no mechanism, the object still clicks and then it’s back between the boys’ hands, held by them and connecting them, too.

Giorno blinks confused, unable to name the recent event, move or even think.

Frowning, and still as shocked as her husband, Lena takes the object from them, making sure they’re still listening to the song, detached from the object that has just… Materialized.

“A piano key?” turning it around, she frowns, then looks back at Giorno, giving it to him.

Inspecting it closer, Giorno hums, finally out of shock. Slowly lowering his hand, he ponders his words for a second, finding it impossible to keep holding his supposition for longer. “I think… This might be their stands. Remember the prophecy?”

She frowns, the prophecy coming to her mind right there: almost like she had learned it word by word, until there's something that does not match the situation: looking into her husband's eyes, she frowns, lips parting until Fugo speaks up through Pietro’s earpiece:

“Time has resumed. I repeat, time has resumed. It's ten o'clock. Everyone please get back to your previous positions until the twins—”

Reaching out, Giorno takes the earpiece from Pietro and taps on the side of the small device: the action activates the mic and Giorno replies, out of breath even if he’s sitting. “Fugo, I want Paolo here. Now. The time thing was related to their stands.”

“What?”

Giorno’s jaw tenses and he mumbles his answer through gritted teeth, “Aren’t you looking at the cameras?” He takes a quick look at the twins, watching them still enjoying the last part of the song then at Lena, who’s turned paler and hasn’t stopped looking at him: like she's terrified.

Walking up to them, Bocelli reaches out for Jovi, noticing Lena’s expression. “Donna,” he says, taking the boy from her. “We need to make sure they’re okay. It seems they’re completely out of danger, but still, we need to run some more tests.”

“Ah, yeah. Sure.” Standing up, she still gives Jovi a smile while Bocelli sets him down. Imitating her, Giorno stands and turns around, letting Dr. Louis take Dante in her arms and set him down beside his twin. Soon, both professionals start a quick physical examination as the conversation between Fugo and Giorno still goes on.

“Giorno,” Fugo says, “The cameras stopped working when time stopped. I was trying to monitor you through your earpieces. I didn’t see anything.”

Clenching his jaw, Giorno tenses, then sighs heavily. “Got it. Then, come here and bring Paolo with you… But make sure the Kishibes are okay.”

“Sure.” The communication ends and Giorno sighs, returning the earpiece to Pietro, who stands there awkwardly for a moment, then puts it on and walks out, Vivianne and the others behind him, rushing back to their previous positions despite the plethora of questions and longing looks thrown their kids’ way.

Closing his laptop, Fugo stands up from the desk, walking in big strides to the door and next down the hall in the Kishibe’s room direction —he’s sure he almost (if not) damaged the hinges from the sheer strength he used to open the door: his confidence drops for a second as he makes eye contact with Paolo and the Kishibe family, mouth agape for a second.

“Kishibe-sensei, is everything okay over here?”

Rohan’s frown does not go unnoticed, nor does his curiosity and worry when he asks back. “Is everything okay over there?”

Sighing, Paolo turns, patting Rohan’s back and pulling back as soon as Rohan steps aside to avoid his touch. “Rohan-sensei,” the scientist starts, walking over to the door in short steps, hands behind his back, entwined, “Don Giovanna will let you know soon. As you can probably sense, things might be back to normal, but I’m positive this hasn’t ended.”

Stopping by the doorway by Fugo’s side, Paolo turns around, facing the family. “Please stay here, it’s just logical to stay safe after the magnitude of the event we just witnessed.”

Closing the door, Paolo turns to Fugo, as if knowing what’s going on —though it was just his guessing. Fugo nods, leading the way: “When time resumed, it looks like something happened with the twins’ stands.”

“Oh?” Paolo lights up, his attention completely on Fugo now. “What happened?”

Stopping before the door, Fugo’s hand stops as soon as he takes the doorknob, turning to Paolo with stern eyes. “That’s exactly what we don’t know.”

***

The room’s calm, with the medical team still observing Dante and Jovi, who are now sitting on the carpet surrounded by their favorite toys and their cat. By the left, sitting before them and watching over them, their parents —while Lena’s eyes seem lost somewhere along her sons, Giorno remains standing, arms crossed and lips pressed tight.

“So,” Coming into the room, Paolo stands beside Giorno, arms behind his back and a playful sway to his body as he speaks up. “What happened, boss?”

Giorno barely looks back as he shows the piano key, holding it between two fingers. “This happened.”

Eyes drifting between the key and his boss, Paolo grins; “I’m afraid I’m not talented enough to play piano, boss. That should be Fugo, he played in a bar for some month—”

“Paolo,” Lena calls, voice soft but still stern. “That… That thing came from them.”

“Oh?” taking the piano key from Giorno, Paolo turns it around, examining it cautiously: “What exactly do you mean, Donna? By ‘came from them’ we could think of many things. In order to give you a hypothesis, I need to know everything.”

Lena sighs, reminiscing the event: “Jovi woke up first and asked for cuddles. Then, Gio took Dante with him: he was more, uh, responsive? Active?” her hands toy with the fabric of her dress, trying to find the proper words to describe the situation, “I don't know, he just asked for their favorite song and Jovi immediately woke up. Then Gio started playing it. Dante … He reached out to Jovi and when they held hands something happened.”

“Oh? You say Dante reached out to Jovi?”

“Yeah.”

Paolo chuckles, amused, a knowing look hidden behind calm eyes —and as he speaks, his laughter only grows: “Chrono, Chrono, Chrono!” he laughs fully and carelessly, voice dropping a few octaves: tone accusing. “Prophets…”

“Yeah…” Giorno nods, still looking at the boys. “What we need to know is if we're right.”

“It depends,” Paolo says, “What's your theory, Giogio?”

Finally looking back, Giorno's chin points at Lena. “It's hers —she thinks Chrono lied.”

“Well,” the scientist crosses his arms above his chest, toying with the piano key before him. “Let's see, why a piano key, of all the things? Is there something you are not remembering? Everything has a reason.”

Both fall silent, and while they're still looking on deep in thought Paolo hums to himself, sitting with the boys. “Don't worry, I have plenty of time.”

Lena's the first to talk, slowly turning to look at him. “It's a piano key, because their favorite song features a piano. Now, I don't think that's what we should be thinking about. Remember the prophecy?”

Paolo hums, leaning his elbow on his thigh and his chin on his closed hand, eyes drifting between Passione’s bosses. “I understand you might be worried and confused. But it is important, at least for me: everything has a reason when it comes to these things. It’s science. Now,” looking back at Jovi, then at Dante, he starts explaining his hypothesis.

“I think the song acted as a trigger —have they ever seen a piano before?”

Fugo speaks for the first time since he got there, voice calm but still holding an ounce of anxiety behind. “I’ve played for them. So, yeah.”

“Good,” Paolo nods, “Then, that means they’ve seen and are familiar with piano keys. They might not know how they work or the material they are made of but one thing is for sure: they know that’s a piano key and that’s the thing that can play their favorite song.” Looking up, he meets Lena’s eyes, then Giorno’s: “Now let’s take a quick look at the prophecy, hm? I’m pretty sure both of you learned it by heart just so you could be sure everything happened like Chrono said.”

The couple nods, and he gestures at them to go on.

Giorno takes a deep breath: “Reborn and Rebuilt. Reborn for Dante and Rebuilt for Jovi.”

Paolo nods, raising a finger to interject with a question. “Who touched who and happens to be the one that creates matter?”

This time, Lena replies, voice tiny. “Dante’s Reborn.”

Paolo hums, “Then that means Dante was the first to react, and Jovi’s Rebuilt just responded to its counterpart —which means…”

Giorno sighs, sitting on the couch beside Fugo. “Chrono said both stands would awaken in October or November, but wouldn’t be active until they turned seven.”

Silent, Paolo nods, fully knowing what this means —the rage of those two. Cold, scary and explosive, held back by stern eyes and calm faces.

The thing that comes, however, is something completely different: while Giorno’s still looking down at the floor Lena speaks up, softly: “Thank you, Paolo, Fugo.”

Fugo stands up, as if knowing he’s dismissed without having to be told: Paolo follows and as they leave, Dr. Bocelli’s words react their ears:

“They’re out of danger, boss.”

As the door closes and the medical team leaves for a break before packing everything, the family in the room remains in silence as the twins drift back t o sleep, tired but no longer ill; safe and healthy.

“Helena.” Giorno mumbles, reaching out for her hand as he sits by her side, his eyes clouded by the strands of wild hair that fall on his eyes and the shadow that forms due to the low lighting in the room. “Are we on the same page?”

It takes a moment for her to reply, but when she does he’s sure he’s never seen her so angry yet so calm and collected —like she’s holding it all in for later, when the time comes to unleash. “We are, babe. I think we should ask Ari and Rohan to watch over them for a bit.”

“Hm?”

Lena looks back at him, brown eyes darkened and lips in a straight line: though her brow remains relaxed, the tension in her voice is enough for him to know her true feelings, the turmoil of negative emotions she’s holding in. “We’re paying a visit to our favorite prophet.”

The smile that curls his lips up screams danger —the kind of smile only his enemies have seen: wicked and horrifying. “Oh, I’d love that.”

***

“I’m serious, Don Giovanna!” standing in the living room with his phone clutched in his hand and a deep blush across his cheeks, Dr. Joshua López plants himself before the much taller mafia boss, “I can’t accept this! It’s too much!”

Giorno looks back —and down— at the man, a much calmer expression now that he and his wife have talked and planned out their next move, and giving a small smile to the man before him, his hand comes up to rest on Dr. López’ shoulder. “It’s never enough when it comes to my family’s well being.” Looking up and in Dr. Louis’ direction, he makes sure to look her in the eye as he finishes with a: “We will be forever grateful with you. If you ever need something, I’m positive we can help.”

Dr. Bocelli speaks up from the couch, his cane between his legs and a cup of tea in his hands. “Please accept the money, Joshua, Rebecca: they're really grateful for your help: for traveling all the way here to see the boys. Right, son?”

Giorno chuckles, dropping his hands at each side of his body and shrugging, he nods: “He’s right. That’s the least we can do, but I’m serious —if you have a problem, we can help.”

Walking over, Dr. Louis sets her hand on Dr. López’ shoulder, a reassuring tone to her voice as she speaks to her friend. “Just take it, Josh.”

“Agh,” sighing, Joshua nods, looking at Giorno in the eye, then at Lena —who has been sitting by Bocelli’s side— and hums. “Thank you, it was a pleasure to work with you.”

This time Lena replies, “Of course, Dr. López. Please let Director Arroyo I’m forever grateful for his help.”

“Of course, Donna.” Bowing one last time, Dr. Louis and Dr. López leave the mansion with Vittorio and Abel behind to escort them all the way to the airport: there, another group of Passione’s soldatos would keep track of them until both arrive at their homes.

As the door closes behind Abel’s back and Akashi stands aside, Paolo walks downstairs with Rohan. The latter seems tense, maybe angry as he comes to stand before Giorno with both hands tightly curled into fists and his jaw in a straight angle.

“Mind telling me what’s going on, Giovanna?”

His question doesn't bring anything new to Giorno —sighing, the Don turns around and walks back to his wife’s side, sitting down in the couch armrest. Gesturing upstairs, he says: “Bring your wife and daughter, then. Ari needs to hear this, too.”

Ari speaks from the upstairs, carefully walking down: the absence of Ellie has Rohan frowning before she explains, “Ellie fell asleep for the night. I have the monitor with me.”

Reaching the living room and walking up to the couch, Ari’s hand finds Rohan's, gently coaxing him to sit down and listen to whatever Giorno and Helena have to say.

Crossing his arms under his chest, Giorno sighs: “Well, I guess Paolo should start with the theory.”

Clapping and standing before both couples, Paolo grins: almost like the words about to be pronounced don’t mean too much. “Turns out little Giorno number one and Giorno number two have, uh, really fucking strong and dangerous stands! I’m sure you two heard time stopped, right?”

Rohan nods, slowly, and Ariel hums.

Paolo keeps going, “So. Time stopped because while we were trying to figure out what the hell was happening, Reborn and Rebuilt were ready and functional. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Quit it,” Giorno shots back, “Just say it.”

“Right,” looking back at the Kishibes, Paolo blurts out: “Chrono lied with the prophecy. Dante and Jovi’s stands are exactly what it said, but… It never said they would be active since the awakening and active phase. We were told they would use them once they got a little bit older.”

Before anyone can say anything else, Giorno stands up, retrieving the piano key from the pocket of his jeans. “This is what they made. As you can see, it’s a nonfunctional piano key —they know this little thing can play their favorite song. To me,” he sets the piano key on the coffee table before Rohan and Ari, standing before them. “It means the more knowledge they have, the better their creations will be. Knowledge and experience will directly mean they will be dangerous… The thing is they’re still kids, barely starting to live. This is not something we considered before.”

The prophecy shared with them months ago comes to mind and, as Rohan looks down at the piano key and reluctantly reaches out to it, Ari looks back. “Do you mean Chrono was right with the matter creation thing?”

Giorno nods, lips pressed in a tight line. “Yes.”

Rohan sighs and speaks up now. “If Chrono lied… And you didn’t expect this, you must be angry.”

A dark chuckle leaves Giorno’s throat, rumbling through his chest and making Rohan look back through big eyes and tense shoulders: by his side Ari reaches out for his hand, unconsciously gripping at it.

“You have no idea,” he says, leaning back and passing a hand through his hair, then goes back to his previous posture, expression back to normal. “We’re planning a visit tomorrow.”

“So we were wondering if you could stay and watch over Dan and Jojo while we’re gone.” Lena speaks now from her spot on the couch, taking the cup of tea Akashi offers. “We understand you’re still tired from the flight and a lot of weird stuff happened today, but we’d leave in the afternoon. Just so we can rest, you know.”

Ari nods, still holding onto Rohan’s hand. “I know Dan and JoJo are still resting a lot, but we’ll make sure to keep them company. Is there any worry about them using their stands now that they’re active? Should Rohan use Heaven’s Door to temporarily disable their stands until we know more?”

Glancing down at Ari, Rohan raises an eyebrow. “Is that something that’s on the table?” He looks over at the Don and Donna next, waiting for a response.

The weight and weariness of the past few days is evident on the couple’s faces, but Giorno remains steady, thinking the request over. “As is often repeated in the community, stand users attract other stand users. With the boys’ stands manifesting this early, they would undoubtedly be in more danger. I am willing to let you seal them, Rohan, but we need to carefully consider the phrasing and how much we limit or allow.”

Rohan nods, pulling a small sketchbook from his pocket. “We can modify the language of it as much as we need before I write it in them.”

“Let’s work on it tonight so we don’t have to worry about it tomorrow. We don’t know if the new stands have any auto-defense mechanisms or not, so we’ll have the whole team on standby if necessary.”

Ari raises her hand and pulls Hearts out, saying, “I can use my lights to calm them down too, if you need it.”

“Giogio and I can each hold a twin too, to keep them more calm.” Lena adds, holding her stomach.

Looking over, Giorno gives her a sad look, holding a hand to her stomach. “Helena. I know you want to be there. But if anything does happen, I prefer to keep you and our future baby safe. I know it’s not in your nature to sit things out, but would you want to watch over Eliana along with Akashi?”

Eyes filling with tears momentarily, Lena nods. “I’ll do whatever we need to keep everyone safe.”

Ari walks over, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders from behind and holding tight. “Why don’t we all get some food together and work on the phrase? I got Ellie some applesauce and waffles and yogurt earlier, but I don’t think anyone else has eaten much since lunch.”

Giorno looks up, finally smiling a little. “We could do pizza tonight.”

Rohan nods, standing. “I know Tonio’s recipe for a good mozzarella tomato salad too, if you’d like any help.”

***

It's late —past two in the morning, dark clouds visible through the curtains as chilly air blows past and into the Giovanna's mansion living room. The moonlight and the sounds of the night work as a natural melody for the two men hunched over the coffee table between mugs and energy drinks.

“Master,” Heaven's Door calls, hand carefully set on top of his user's shoulder, where his thumb rubs gentle motions over the tense muscles as he overlooks the men.

“Hm?” blinking slowly, Rohan leans back, wincing as his back cracks and the pain is momentarily relieved: green eyes heavy with sleep but still holding determination.

“I believe we're ready.” The stand says, pointing at the messy words written in the paper before them, then at Giorno —who's not in a better condition, purple bags under his bloodshot eyes, lips dry and hair slicked back after hours of thinking and working on the correct, most effective phrasing.

Looking back at Giorno, Rohan hums, reading over the orders once more and then back at Giorno with an arched eyebrow. Sighing, he reaches up for his headband, slipping it down and letting the fabric hang around his neck, words mumbled out in a quiet, exhausted tone. “If you agree, Giovanna, I'll go get Ari.”

Giorno hums —deeper, like the stress has finally worn him out. Reaching out, he pulls the paper sheet to him, reading over one, two, three times before he nods to himself, looks back at Rohan and Heaven's Door and nods firmly. “Yeah. But. I was thinking… Maybe Gold Experience Requiem can, you know, help.”

“I don't think I get it—” frowning, Rohan's fingers massage his temples, a funny small undertone to his words. “Justify your answer.”

“Mhm,” Leaning back, Giorno winces as a short sensation of numbness sets on his lower back and disappears almost immediately —and still he replies, slowly as he thinks about his words and the proper way to phrase his reasoning. “Goldie can…” he looks up into the ceiling, almost like it has the answer: after a moment, he looks back, eyes drifting between stand and user: “He can disband other stands, to put it simply —it's far more complicated than that. But I think it can work. Make everyone's work easier.”

Tapping his pen against the table, Rohan and Heaven's Door fall silent for a moment before Heaven looks back, golden eyes shining under the artificial light. “But Hearts can help calm them down.”

Standing up, Giorno smiles, turning and walking up to the closest window: “Figured you'd say that. The thing is you'd keep them calm, yes, but we don't know how aggressive, responsive and alert Reborn and Rebuilt can be. Let's remember we're just seeing them. Anything can happen.” turning his back to then, Giorno keeps talking, hands entwined behind his back and voice low, barely audible for Rohan:

“I'd hate to see anyone hurt.”

Sighing, Rohan smiles, pretending to not have heard Giorno but knowing his words will let the Don know he did. “Okay then, Mr. Protect Everyone. I'll get her.”

As he leaves the living room, Giorno's voice reaches his ears:

“Go, Romeo, go.~”

Chuckling and shaking his head as he leaves and walks down the hall, Rohan turns on the corner, stopping on his tracks as he comes face to face with Westwood and Ari. The frown that reaches his features tears a small chuckle from West, who stands aside and gestures to Ari, voice a gentle warm tone: “She couldn't sleep so I offered to take her here, Kishibe-sensei.”

Nodding as a 'thank you' Rohan steps closer, hand reaching out to Ari's shoulder as Westwood leaves down the hall (probably going to check on Giorno), leaving them alone.

“Hey,” he calls gently, tilting her chin up with the pad of his index from his free hand, “What's wrong?”

“'s nothing,” Ari mumbles, wrapping a warm hand around his arm, “Just worried.”

Rohan's features relax and his lips curl up into a calming, soft smile: “Everything's gonna work out. We made sure to think of everything.”

“I know. Just anxiety…”

Taking her hand and guiding her forward, Rohan's eyes soften as he looks back at his wife. “Fear and anxiety makes us human. It's natural to feel it.”

Wiping a stray tear, Ari nods, looking back with a soft, tired smile, “You're right.”

As they reach the doorway, Giorno's sitting in the couch with his head between his palms —and as soon as the sound of their footsteps alerts him of their presence he straightens up, playing it off with a quick look at Ari and a: “You don't have to do this, Ariel.”

Walking in, she shakes her head no, sitting before the Don with determination shining behind her eyes. “I want to.”

Giorno smiles, dimples slightly standing out: “A warrior, huh? Well,” standing up, he walks up to the door, stopping only to say: “I'll go get the boys. This room is far away from the others so if something goes wrong, my team will have more space to move around and protect you and act. Please prepare.”

Sharing a look, the Kishibes nod, watching the Don leave with Westwood following him —the flicker of his shadow and the sound of air blowing outside leave behind a mysterious, scary silence.

“So,” Westwood starts once they’re in the hall, hands inside his pockets and eyes glued to the ground. “Are you really ready to show your stand, boss?”

The answer comes after a long silence, right as they reach the stairs: “What are you trying to say, West?”

Chuckling, Westwood shakes his head: “You shouldn’t answer a question with another question… I guess I’m just wondering if this is really the right moment.”

Giorno hums, thoughtful, “Rohan and Ariel know little to nothing about my stand, but… If it’s about the boys, then it’s the right time. Besides, everyone I trust has seen my stand and knows about his powers: I believe our situation calls for it, too.”

Reaching the top, Gio stops and turns around to face his friend and bodyguard and only there when Westwood stops before Giorno does he notice the exhaustion on his features, not masked anymore.

“West,” Giorno says, eyes dull, “Trust is not a bad thing.” His hand reaches out, landing on Hysteria's user shoulder and applying minimum pressure, as if trying to comfort him. “I know you don't always know who to trust, but I can assure you Kishibe Rohan and his family do deserve our trust and protection.”

Chuckling, Westwood nods, raising a hand to pat Giorno on the shoulder with a quiet: “Got it, got it.”

As Giorno turns around and keeps walking, Westwood speaks up again, though this time quieter. “You're showing your stand as a thank you, then.”

Grabbing the doorknob to the twins bedroom, Giorno nods. “Yeah. But Rohan and Heaven have been curious about Goldie for a while now —you can call it a demonstration.”

Stifling a laugh, Westwood shakes his head, mumbling one last “So you're just getting cheeky~” as they come into the room, coming face to face with Abel and Akashi.

“Shhhh,” Akashi starts as soon as he spots them, raising a finger to his lips: “They're asleep.”

Nodding, Abel steps in, blocking the light coming from the hall from reaching the sleeping toddlers, “Is everything ready?”

Sitting by Jovi's bed, Giorno mumbles out: “Yes.” then reaches down, taking the boy in his arms, lifting him up carefully until he's cradling his sleeping son against his chest. Standing up, he turns to Carvelli. “Could you take Dante?”

Doing as told, Westwood imitates Giorno and as they're standing ready, Abel comes closer with two small blankets, draping each over their shoulders and into the kids to keep the light from hurting their eyes and waking them up.

“There you go,” he says, forcing himself to smile even if he's anxious, “Don't want the Donna to hear them cry, right?”

Giorno nods, though the mention of his wife brings a short sensation of pain to his chest —to think of her crying and worrying as she watches over Ellie brings uneasiness and sadness to him. But still, he nods, imitating Abel with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes nor makes his dimples stand out. “Right. Could you two go and stay with her?”

“Of course, Giogio.” Clapping, Akashi runs out between giggles, waiting outside for Abel.

***

Paolo Aparigi is a scientist. He believes exclusively in evidence and science —anything else, like religious dogma and superstitions must prove themselves.

Stands are science, he knows: because their existence is related to medicine and said discipline is science and biology coded. His own stand demands his understanding and attention on scientific matters, but even with his years of sitting behind a desk reading, writing and his vast experience dealing with other stands and stand users, nothing could compare to the physical pressure requiem stands could inflict.

He could only describe it as funny: the amount of ridiculously oppressive pressure a requiem stand could inflict was nothing to joke about.

A quick look around the room and he's sure everyone's just as affected as him—shaking hands, dizziness, tiredness and probably more than he can see.

Gold Experience Requiem has been standing in the corner of the room, big pink eyes staring from his spot as Giorno and Westwood stand in the middle holding the twins who are still asleep, with the rest of La Squadra and Unità around them: the process had just started and though he is the closest to the door, he still can't bring himself to leave even if Giorno did say anyone could leave if they couldn't take it.

The voice coming from the corner, of that being close to a god, makes him stand straight and look forward when he speaks:

“Kishibe Ariel, use your stand, please. I will not attack or affect your powers.” His hand rises up forming a fist and the pressure in the environment decreases like he willingly dropped —or overturned— his abilities like some kind of electromagnetic field to allow her unrestricted movement and space.

Through shaking hands, Ari leaves her husband's side, approaching Giorno first: Hearts on Fire pops out after a moment, almost like her user struggled to call her. Reaching a hand out, Heart's hand rests gently on top of Jovi's head, combing his blond wavy strands back. A blue aura soon emits from Hearts’ forehead and stomach eyes, glowing through her crystal heart as well and surrounding the stand and the boy, who sighs in his sleep and sinks further in his father's arms.

Gold Experience Requiem turns to Rohan, eyes boring into his soul and a hand gesturing forward with a “Go ahead, Kishibe Rohan.”

Standing up from the couch, Rohan curses under his breath as dizziness kicks in for a second, then makes his way over. With Heaven's Door peeking over his shoulder in Goldie's direction, both stands share a look before Heaven turns back to Jovi, raising his hand, swiping open at his forehead and stops to look back at Giorno.

The Don's eyes show his pain and exhaustion: the hurt from seeing this. Still, he nods, lips tightly pressed into a line and eyes dull, from their usual tone to a darker one.

“Sorry, Giovanna.” Rohan whispers, right hand shaking as he holds the pen and writes down the command:

‘Reborn and Rebuilt will not work, passive or actively, unless my life or my brother's are in danger and we are unprotected.’

Nodding, Rohan makes sure to deactivate his stand on Jovi, reading over the command and letting his skin turn back to normal when he's satisfied with the result. Then, he moves on, now before Westwood and Dante. Quietly, he watches Ari repeat the same process: using the blue light and letting it sit for a moment before he's allowed to come closer.

And repeating his own actions, he still mumbles his apologies to Giorno, hands shaking by the time he's done.

The room stays the same for a second —the sounds of crickets outside suddenly disappear and Paolo tenses, noticing the two silhouettes barely forming behind Giorno and West.

“Don't move.” Gold Experience Requiem says, pink eyes staring right into the two beings: there, he watches over both. The one coming from Dante, a completely white humanoid being with a clear hose down his arms, connected to a core in the middle of its chest —the other, the one behind Jovi, has the same humanoid form and white skin with only one clear hose in its left arm, connected to his back and ending at the top of his right shoulder. Both vibrate, with the one coming from Dante producing something that circulates inside the hoses relentlessly.

As both their hands materialize and reach out to the other, Ari's stand reaches out again, setting her hands atop the twins' heads and, as the first wave of blue light comes out in waves, both stands disappear and the edges of the pages in their foreheads disappear.

Finally deactivating his powers, Goldie overlooks the room: everyone's panting and sweating, completely exhausted. And so he says: “We're done, Master.”

“Thank you, Goldie." He says, leaning back.

Before he disappears, Goldie bows, leaving behind the faint smell of honey and flowers.

Sitting up straight, Giorno looks back at the Kishibe's, blinking slowly –like a cat, though his action comes from his exhaustion. “Thank you.”

Helping Ari sit down as La Squadra and Unità slowly take their seats in the couches, Rohan nods, taking slightly longer to reply as he sits on the floor between Ari's legs, leaning his head on one of her thighs. “Yeah, 's okay. Jus' make sure they're okay.”

***

As they stop before the door, Akashi and Abel tense. With the latter still offering his arm for Lena to hold on, the Capo and soldato look back at their boss: she's quiet, brown eyes bloodshot from all the crying and tiredness. Her hand rubs over the baby bump and the other grips Akashi's arm, staring straight into the door. Anxious and tired.

The door opens suddenly and Giorno's there by the other side, a towel draped over his shoulders, damp hair and pajamas on. Taking a step out, he offers a hand out to his wife, talking to his men with a small, reassuring smile:

“Thank you, Abel, Akashi. Go get some sleep.”

Letting go of Akashi's arm, Lena remains silent as she takes Giorno's hand and both men leave.

In silence, both come into their bedroom.

Guiding her to the bed, Gio's silent as she sits down, eyes welling up with tears as she looks over the sleeping twins in the middle of the bed, surrounded by blankets and pillows in an attempt to keep them from falling down.

“Hey,” he calls, setting a warm hand on top of her cold ones, leaning down in order to do so, “We succeeded. Their stands are sealed: they won't be used unless there's no one to protect them.”

A sob cuts off the silence —reaching out, Lena holds both of his hands between her shaking ones, quietly crying and trying her best to hide her face from his view. With a “Hey,” Giorno moves, kneeling before her, trying his best to warm her hands with his. “It's okay. They're healthy.”

Another sob and she reaches out, arms open and face red and swollen: the image breaks his heart. Coming closer, he wraps both arms around her, rubbing her back as she holds onto him, mumbling her answer against the crown of his head:

“I'm just glad it's over,” wiping her tears with the pads of her fingers, her smile slowly brings a small pink blush to her cheeks, “Knowing they'll be playing soon. Running around the house, asking about their sister. I'm so happy…”

Pulling back, Gio grins —relieved and calmer— looking up at her. “I'm sure they will keep going like nothing happened. We will talk to them if they ask, but I think we should keep this information from them until they're older and mature enough to understand.” his hand reaches out, cupping her face gently, tone shifting to one quieter and warmer. “I was just going to fill the tub for you, do you want to take a bath or leave it for tomorrow?”

Leaning into his touch, Lena hums, rubbing a hand over his arm. “I don't think I have the energy for a bath, maybe just a quick shower. Creating a baby is hard, you know.”

Laughing, Giorno pulls back to untie her shoes, tossing them aside and standing back again, a warm, tired smile her way as he walks into the closet to retrieve clean clothes.

Looking back, Lena reaches out to Dante, then at Jovi, tracing their faces with the pad of her finger. For a second, as the sounds of Giorno walking in the other room and the quiet night surround her, her attention remains only on her sons, studying their faces and making sure they're safe: counting down their fingers, making sure their freckles are still there —even running her hand over their hair and checking the color of it. The same type and color as their father's.

“Okay, I got you my hoodie and clean panties —” stopping before her after coming back from the bathroom, Gio goes silent, waiting until she looks back, sighing in relief when he notices her calm expression, keeping on. “Do you need help showering?”

Shaking her head no, she stands up, slowly and only after looking back at the boys, Lena walks over to Gio, taking the towels from him and pulling him in for a short kiss. “Be right back, babe.”

***

The bathroom door opens slowly. Blinking the sleep away, Gio looks up into the direction he knows the door is: there stands his wife, wearing his hoodie and putting a wild curl behind her ear.

“Hey,” she whispers, slowly walking up to bed. “Sorry it took so long, I needed to dry my hair first.”

Nodding, Giorno stands up, quickly circling the bed and offering a hand to help her up into the bed. As she makes herself comfortable, he pulls the comforter up around her hips. Then, he retrieves another comforter from the top of his side of the bed, mumbling:

“Guess we won't share the comforter today. Gotta keep them safe.”

She hums, watching him climb on his side and lay down, propping himself up into his elbow.

Both of them look down at the sleeping twins —deep asleep, like nothing happened and it had just been a long day playing and running around the house.

Slowly looking back, Lena's mouth opens slowly to ask in a whisper: “Where…?”

Looking back, Giorno blinks slowly, understanding her real question almost immediately:

Where did he write the command?

Raising a hand, his finger comes closer, almost touching Dante's forehead, right where Rohan had written the command: “Here.”

She nods, thoughtful. Perhaps calmer than before. Then, she slowly settles down, mumbling: “And I guess Ari helped too?”

“She did.”

Sighing, a soft smile lifts her lips up. “They're so good to us.”

He follows her eyes, watches her blink slowly, staring at the spot he signaled earlier. Her question does not come out, though he knows she really wants to ask: like she's afraid of even mentioning the topic.

Slowly opening his mouth, Giorno's warm hand reaches out, gently coming to rest against her hip with a whisper intended to reply to her unspoken question:

“Goldie saw their stands. Not completely, but I know he could see some small details.”

She looks back, lips pressed into a line and a quiet hum. If she wants to talk more, he's sure the topic will come up again tomorrow, when both have rested and calmed down.

He watches her eyes close and her hand reach out, holding Jovi's hand and, before he gets the chance to say goodnight, he knows she's already asleep.

Sighing, his own eyes start to close as his mind runs quickly over the recent events: before reaching a conclusion, sleep begins to overcome him.

At least now, compared to around thirteen years before, he's surrounded by everything he's ever wanted but didn't know he needed: a family and friends.

#shameless self insert #giolena #arihan #sunnie d #self ship

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