Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

4/02/2029

Italy

Morning

The countryside of Italy was beautiful. It really was. The rolling hills were great and all, not that Viale cared. He’d seen it his whole life. Endless fields and farms stretching across the sea of green. He leaned against the window of the sedan and watched as they drove past the farmers breaking their backs in the fields. 

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

Gioviale stood at a respectable 182 centimetres tall, broad-shoulders framing his lithe body well. His face, symmetrical and dreadfully handsome, as if it could’ve been sculpted by an artist, at least that was what young women told each other at school about him. He had piercing sea-blue eyes that, when looked at from the right angle, appeared to have lime-green accents. His hair - much like his father’s - was naturally blond, but more a dirty blond rather than golden. Viale was often told that he looked like his father, and whilst he agreed to an extent, he found they were too different to be called ‘similar’.

The sun was rising - he had to get up early for the trip. It was certainly picturesque, but familiarly boring. He caved and pulled out his mobile phone. He’d been trying to avoid using it the whole trip as he was prone to getting carsick. There wasn’t a reason to be on his phone. He had no one to text; his only contacts were his mother and father - the latter couldn’t answer of course, as he was driving the car. 

Speaking of which, his father looked in the rear-view to see his son nose-deep in reading the world news. “Look out the window, Gioviale,” he suggested as if that wasn’t what he had been doing for the past five hours. Viale glanced up at his father, whose golden-braided hair was reflecting the morning sun into the car. The years had been very kind to his father. Although he was forty-four this year, he looked as if he was in his late twenties. Viale didn’t understand where he got those kinds of genes from - maybe his grandfather’s side? He had met his mother’s family, and they scarcely looked young for their age. 

“This scenery is all the same, father. The only interesting thing I’ve seen was when we passed through Florence and saw that dog doing the thing.” Viale knew his father had the resources to fly to Venice, but understood that he wasn’t worth the fuel cost. 

“That’s not the point, Gioviale,” his father explained, “the point is that you see what other people have to do to get what you’re about to have.”

His father had barely explained why he was moving; he had to figure out why himself. Viale figured it had something to do with the shouting match his father had with this ‘Uncle Pol’ he always talks to on the phone a few nights ago. His father had told him ‘Uncle Pol’ isn’t actually his uncle, but that’s all he had ever gotten out of him.

Viale was pulled out of school yesterday urgently by his mother - she looked as if she had just found out she lost €1,000,000 and shat her pants consecutively. Grace was usually quite collected - similar to her husband. What had happened to make her this frantic must’ve been well and truly bad.

The car jeered to a stop. His father had taken a wrong turn, having to put the car on a dirt path between two roads. Viale looked through the windshield to see that the road that the car was about to trudge through could barely be considered a “road”. 

“Hold on, son, this one’s going to be rough,” he warned. The car staggered over the bumps, one at a time, seemingly always on an angle, while each bump never aligned with another. The inside of the car felt like an earthquake had hit indiscriminately. Viale found himself holding onto whatever he could to stay grounded, which included a thin, long briefcase, whose clips holding it together were not doing their job.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Approach

Squeezing the briefcase with all of his might have made its contents ever-so-slightly slip out of the length’s seams, and into Viale’s forefinger.

To say it hurt like a bitch would do the silver edge a severe disservice. Viale let out a gut-wrenching scream of agony as the bladed edge sliced almost clean through his left pointer, seemingly phasing through even his bone and muscle. He thrashed around the backseat, writhing in pain before his hand left the edge. 

After hearing his son scream bloody murder, his father slammed the brakes on his car, and whipped his head around to see his son out of breath, and sweating profusely. He examined the creased briefcase, which unfortunately had a gold and silver arrow pointing out of it. His father hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and rushed around to Viale’s car door.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” Viale screamed at his father. Viale looked down to see his finger perfectly normal, perfectly in place - barring a large scar across one of his joints. His father got up from the car door to look over the field where he had stopped the car. 

~~~

Earlier that week

Giovanna Estate

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Imada Nokoru Shukumei

“What do you mean they’re making moves! Of course, they are making moves!” Giorno rarely raised his voice. It had been a long day for Giorno Giovanna. His subordinates had been yammering to him all day about ‘politics this’ and ‘profit that’, but when Jean-Pierre Polnareff had told him that some rival gang had started making trouble near Gioviale’s school, he finally lost his cool. Giorno’s lavish office, with his favourite chair and replica Mona Lisa hanging over the fireplace, had recently been filled with piles upon piles of complaints from the good citizens of Naples who found traces of narcotics on the streets. “I have held control of this city for decades, and we are all but folding to these lowlifes?! Where’s the resolve? Where’s the commitment? What happened to being the goddamn mob?”

“I get what you mean, boss, but these new recruits just aren’t like your old gang. They don’t have Stands.” As always, the man in the tortoise (who insisted it was a turtle) was a voice of reason. That’s why he was appointed concierge to the Don of Passione, after all. Jean-Pierre Polnareff, being a ghost, had not aged a bit since he found himself inside Coco Jumbo.

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“You could get in the field yourself? No one can stand up to GER .”

“That’s not what I mean, Jean-Pierre,” Giorno corrected, “I mean what do I do about enemy gang members creeping around Gioviale’s school? He can’t defend himself.”

“Ah, that boy. He reminds me of an old friend - and when I say old, I mean old. He’s probably dead by now,” Polnareff adopted a reminiscing face but noticed that Giorno was still expecting an answer, “I mean, the man he reminds me of was a great fighter, so why not let Viale fight? He certainly has inherited the potential from you.”

“Yes, I have considered giving my son a Stand,” Giorno pondered, “But we both know all too well that giving him an ability would just make him attract more danger.”

“Stand users attract other stand users. It is a fact.” Polnareff agreed, “But. He is a 17-year-old boy. He’s two years older than you were when you joined Passione. Maybe…”

“...Maybe he should know what I do for a living.” Polnareff nodded in acknowledgment, “Maybe I should let him grow.”

~~~

“I’m sorry about that, son,” Giorno Givanna began, “that was meant to be a surprise keepsake for your time away.”

“Why is it so sharp, then? Were you going to give me a weapon?” Viale was all but screaming at his father. 

“I apologise. It has a certain value to me. But if you are not harmed, there’s no cause for concern.” Giorno explained. It was a moment of weakness for the Boss of Passione. He did not expect his son to come into contact with the beetle arrow so soon; he expected he would use it when unpacking his things at his new school. “Let’s get back on the road for now.” 

Giorno closed Viale’s car door and returned to the driver’s seat further up the car. In his head, Viale questioned, eloquently, what the fuck was going on. He had always known his father was not the hotshot banker he portrayed himself as. The life the Giovanna’s lived was a smidgen too opulent for a simple banker. Viale constantly reminded himself that his father hadn’t done anything to merit the suspicion, barring the small things. These ‘small things’ included just how aloof Giorno Giovanna liked to act. He never got genuinely mad unless, on the off chance, someone harmed his family. His constant resolve to become a better man was commendable to most, but to Viale, who loved him unconditionally, it seemed off for someone who says they are a simple accountant.

There were a few occasions - mostly when Viale was younger - when someone confronted his father about ‘work’. Whenever this happened, his father told Viale and his mother to leave Giorno and the instigator to ‘talk’. Deep down, Viale knew his father’s work was dirtier than it seemed.

The car throttled alive once again as Giorno turned onto the road he was meant to be on a few minutes ago.

~~~

Outside Master’s Academy

Midday

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Morioh in the Early Afternoon

The two stood outside the establishment, one nervous, the other Giorno. The elder took initiative and started forward through the gates. The grandiose stone-laden sign bolted to the tall fence read ‘ Accademia Magistrale ’, the boarding school Gioviale Giovanna would be staying in for the foreseeable future. Viale followed Giorno from a few paces behind, making sure to not get too close. Viale wheeled his luggage in a two-wheel roller suitcase, which also included the case with some kind of weapon in it, up the small number of steps that lead to the front office.

The school was in the heart of Marghera, Venice. Though the famous part of Venice was across the bay, with Air Supplena Island just past that, it was still within walking distance from the school. There were few canals in this part of town, it maintained its Venetian look.

The school itself was luxurious in its own right. From what Viale could see, the office was just the front of the school. It seemed that there were three stories in the section behind the front office - no doubt an expensive establishment. The building overall looked as if it once had a light blue finish of paint over the walls of the building, but it had obviously faded away with the year’s weathering. Despite this, the school retained its high-class sheen.

To the right of the main building stood another, just as sturdy as the main. Judging by the sheer amount of windows on the side of the building Viale could see, that was where the ‘boarding’ part of ‘boarding school’ came from. Unlike the main building, the dorm was white, with blue-ish accents on the corners.

Giorno and Viale approached the revolving door to the office. Entering the space proper, Viale could see where the money was being put to use. A pair of chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, fresh carpet smell assaulting Viale’s nostrils, a few hands flying across keyboards in the background. There was one lady at the front desk, dressed in what looked like the staff’s uniform. Seeing movement, she looked up to greet the two Giovanna’s. 

“ Buongiorno, signore . Welcome to Master’s Academy. Do you have an appointment?” She looked at Giorno, seeing as he looked like the father. Giorno smiled.

“Of course. We are here for a tour.” Giorno glanced away to look towards a couple of empty seats beside the receptionist. “Are you the only one here today?”

“No, sir, the other people that sit here are teaching right now,” the receptionist responded. “Can I have your name for the visitor’s book?”

“Giorno Giovanna, at your service.” Giorno held his hand out to the woman, who giggled behind her hand and gave him the other.

“Of course, sir,” she stood up from her seat, “you and your… son? You and your son will have a tour from il mio capo , the school principal.” 

Giorno stiffened slightly at the word capo but regained his composure just as fast as he lost it. “You speak of Datore Esposito, no?”

“Yes, Mr Giovanna, he and his best friend, Mr. Scudiero Mercurio, now the Head of the Board, have been running this school since 2001.”

“2001, huh,” Giorno muttered to himself. 

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Italian Restaurant

“Right this way, sirs. Professore Esposito will be waiting for you in his office.” The receptionist stood up gracefully, as she led the two out from the office and up a decorated flight of stairs to their right. Viale could see that this design was mirrored on the other side of the office, so it didn’t look as if it mattered which stairs they went up. 

On the second floor of the office stood a peculiar sort of space. Movie posters littered the wall, some simply stuck up with blu-tack, some framed in A3 portraits. There were some famous films on these walls: Jurassic Park, The Blues Brothers, The Avengers, to name a few. Oddly enough, a good amount of these movies were sequels, sequels without the predecessor, like Home Alone 2, Iron Man 2, and Ghostbusters 2 . 

In the middle of the room sat a frail-looking middle-aged man at his desk. His hair was greying with a few remaining accents of brown from his younger years. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, judging by the shopping bags under his eyes. His suit was pressed, sleek, and fitted perfectly. Despite his physical condition, he was well put-together.

As the receptionist approached the man’s desk, she turned to Giorno and bowed. “I hope you enjoy your tour.”

“ Grazie ,” Giorno nodded as the lady walked back down stairs. Giorno moved to greet the man that was obviously the principal, “ Buongiorno, my name is Giorno Giovanna, and this is my son, Gioviale. It is good to finally meet you.”

“I feel the same way, Signor Giovanna,” Principal Esposito greeted, “and you, too, Gioviale, I’ve heard great things about you.”

This was the first time anyone had directly spoken to Viale at the school, so he was caught a bit off-guard and sputtered, “Hmm? Uh, yeah, nice to you, sir.”

“Thank you for accepting our request, sir,” Giorno saved Viale from having to socialise. Viale was not out of the woods yet, as Giorno shot him a look that told him to pay attention.

“Well, it is a rare occurrence for someone to want to transfer mid-term, but for someone as high a status as yourself, I just had to oblige.” Viale considered what that meant for a second, as he thought a banker surely wouldn’t have a reputation such as the man was proclaiming. 

“I apologise for such short notice, but you understand what my situation is,”

“Of course, of course,” as Esposito stood up, Viale could see that even he was taller than the man, but perhaps that was because the man was constantly slouching, “now let’s get on with the tour, shall we?”

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

“...and this is where we study our sciences,” Principal Esposito explained. Overall, Viale found it all unnecessary. Viale found that he learnt things better on the spot and with a hands-on approach. 

As he walked down the hall, he could see that there were, in fact, students in class. They were studying studiously, listening to the teacher when needed. The three continued down the hall, occasionally stopping in front of a subject’s office. “In this school, we have two classes per year that students fill depending on who has class in that period,” He produced a sample timetable from his inside coat pocket, “as you can see here, a student could be in Senior Maths B, then right after be in Senior Literacy A. This system allows the students to pick and choose what subjects they want to take on, and they’ll be sorted into that class.”

Esposito continued, “Speaking of which, we have quite the maths department; Mr Augustus Zeppeli is one of our newest and talented teachers. All of the students love him. In fact, he attended this school a number of years ago.”

Giorno hummed, “I’ve read plenty of your high achievers, Mr Esposito. What I’m concerned about is if I made the right choice in choosing to send my only son to your establishment.” 

Esposito slightly withdrew into his collar, a little frightened by the blond, “Well, you see, that’s up to what Gioviale wants to gain out of his education. Sir.”

“That’s a good answer,” Giorno responded, “Well, Gio? What would you hope to gain from this place?”

Viale considered the question. What did he want? A normal life? An education? Maybe perhaps comradery? 

Viale looked at his father, and decided honesty was the play. “I… don’t have any dreams for this place, really.”

~~~

Master’s Academy

Afternoon

Viale opened the ornate door to see someone’s belongings splayed out across his room. It seemed that there were two per room in this dormitory. Not that he was told that beforehand, but it made sense in hindsight. He walked over to his side of the room, where his new roommate had ‘claimed’ his ownership. Viale chose this side of the room because there was obviously less ‘claiming’ happening on that side of the room. The messy one was seemingly absent from the area for the time being.

The dorm room wasn’t anything special. Other than the fancy door, everything was rather normal. Two beds on opposite walls, a chest of draws between the two, with four columns on each side. At the foot of each bed laid a chest each, and a bit in front of them, a pair of desks. 

Viale was tired. While he didn’t do anything overtly physical - only having to move his suitcase around - the exhausting car ride and the weird thing in his fathers’ case had pretty much drained him of all his will. 

Just as Viale went to sit down on the only thing not covered by junk, the desk in his corner of the room, he found himself falling back through the desk itself - or at least that’s what he thought was happening. In actuality, he was moving into the top of the desk.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Vita

Viale yelped as he started falling faster, more of his torso and legs being swallowed by the surface of the desk. Just as he was nearly fully into the desk, his left hand shot out from inside and grabbed the corner of the table. His right hand, however, was stuck frantically flailing around half-inside the table. 

Then, something grabbed Viale by the arm. 

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Weeks ago

Naples

“Hey, Viale! How’s your day?” 

“Yeah! Anything interesting happen?”

“What are you doing later?”

There was a group of schoolgirls following Viale, as was common for the tall blond. Over the years, Viale made it a habit to take the longest path home after school, just in case he saw someone to talk to or hang out with on the way back. Not that he had any long-lasting friendships to rely on.

“Ha! Are you talking about school?” Viale asked, “Well, nothing really interesting happened, but the day is still young. You three want to come over to my place?”

“What? Really?” The three chorused. They swooned, which Viale found amusing. Viale was popular at school - his good looks and grades, as well as his mischievous demeanour contributing to his status. 

Naples was lovely this time of year. Although it was Winter, there were plenty of tourists seeing the sights. Whilst the ice-cream shops were closed, the diners and restaurants were still open for business and providing warmth to those caught outside without a jacket. Viale had lived here all his life. Well, that’s not true. He was born in Florida, but that was the furthest he had ever gotten away from Italy.

School was running strong, too. Viale, despite acting like a buffoon during classes, kept up top ten students academically. The teachers hated him for it. All of his goofing off in class and they still get tests and assignments back that are nearly perfect. 

“Of course,” Viale continued, “It’s so cold; I wouldn’t want three lovely ladies like yourselves to stay out here in this freezing cold.” 

Viale enjoyed acting like a posh jerk sometimes. His background certainly supported him fraternising with the upper class. He had attended many galas and parties with his father for that very reason. He didn’t, however, actually mean half of the things he did. His mother always told him that ‘money isn’t everything in this world, but it sure does help,’ after all.

Then there was his father, ever observant, ever pensive. He was a mystery to his son. Viale loved him, as any son would his father, but Giorno Giovanna perplexed him in ways he thought weren’t possible.

Viale fancied himself a good judge of character. One of the main reasons that Viale didn’t pay attention during class was because he saw how toxic his school was to people that weren’t in its community. The only fundraiser the school ever did was to raise money for a lawsuit they were facing.

“I’d be happy to show you three what goes on in the Giovanna household.”

~~~

4/02/2029

Master’s Academy Dorm 52

Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Vita

Viale was in a state of shock. He couldn’t breathe, the world was dark, the only things he could feel were his clothes and the edges to the desk he had somehow fallen into. With his left hand holding an edge, his legs sliding down the front of the desk, desperately trying to get himself caught on something, and his right arm moving slowly into the desk as he tries to grasp something, anything else to help him regain his balance and get out of this situation.

But then something yanked him by his free arm. From what he could feel, it wasn’t human, as it was cold as steel. The person(?) was pulling Viale out of the desk. Viale assisted the person by pulling up with his left hand. 

When Viale surfaced and was flung on the floor, he found no one there. No person, no hands. Was it a dream? He thought. He got up to look at the desk again.

“What the hell is going on?” Viale said aloud, “Did I just manage to fall into a desk?”

He approached the desk. Rather unsure, he slowly placed his palm onto the surface as a desk and…

…nothing. 

It seemed like nothing really happened. But Viale wasn’t convinced. His scepticism prevailed over his defeat, and with that spirit, the surface became intangible again. This time, Viale was ready. He wasn’t leaning on his hand, he just let it move around freely.

Retracting his hand, he wondered if it was the desk that was intangible, or him? To test this, he approached the wall to the right of the desk. He willed his hand to pass through it, and…

…it did.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Cavaliere

“About time, kid,” 

Viale whipped around to see a turtle– no a tortoise laying down on his bed. Interestingly, this tortoise had a fancy gold key jammed in a slot in the shell, this key holding a large red gem in the head. Also interestingly, a Frenchman was protruding from the red gem.

“What the hell is that? Is that a fucking turtle? How did that get in my room? Did it just talk?” All relevant questions Viale asked, but the Frenchman in the key only had one thing to say.

“Put your hand on this red gem,” he asked, as he retracted back into the key. Viale was perplexed. A man just came out of a key in a turtle and told him to touch a key lodged inside of said turtle. Hesitantly, Viale did so, shivering as he reached over to the turtle.

~~~

Inside the tortoise

Viale hit the ground too hard. Groaning, Viale sat up from his fetal position to see a man with a few too many scars and a grey chef’s hat sitting on a couch. Now that he thought about it, where was he? 

“You are in the tortoise,” the man answered Viale’s thoughts, “by the way, yes, it’s a tortoise, not a turtle. Turtles are sea creatures.”

Said tortoise was rather lavishly decorated. Two couch armchairs next to each other and a corner couch were all surrounding a coffee table atop a green rug. In the corner adjacent to the large couch was a cabinet. In the other corners was a small table with a flower vase on it, and what looked to be a closet door.

That made sense, Viale thought. Except it doesn’t make sense, he thought subsequently. “How are we in a turt–tortoise?”

“This tortoise has what’s known as a Stand, Gioviale. As did I.” That didn’t answer any of Viale’s questions but rather created more.

“What the bloody hell is a Stand?” Viale asked the obvious successive question.

“Ahem,” the man cleared his throat, “a Stand is the manifestation of one’s fighting spirit. That being said, I don’t, however, know how this tortoise has a fighting spirit. Coco Jumbo’s Stand is called ｢Mr. President｣ .”

Right. Ok. He was asleep. That was the only thing that made sense in Viale’s mind. Turtles didn’t have rooms inside them, they had organs and blood. Maybe he had been hit with some drug.

“This isn’t real, Mr Chef’s Hat,” Viale stated, “and I’m dreaming.”

“I have a name, you know. And that’s my hair, not a chef’s hat.”

“...”

“Right. My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff.” Polnareff answered Viale’s implicit question. Polnareff continued with the niceties, “Do you remember being cut with an arrow, Gioviale?” 

Of course, he did. It hurt like a bitch, in his words. “An arrow? Yeah, in the car trip. I didn’t know it was an arrow, though - I thought it was just a sharp bit of steel.”

“No no, my boy, that,” Polnareff paused for effect, “was a Stand Arrow. It gives people with the potential a Stand. II wish I could demonstrate, but I don’t currently have a Stand.”

“So, what, do I have a Stand now?” Viale asked Polnareff.

“Yes, you do,” he answered, “Every Stand has an ability. As you just experienced, yours has the ability to enter surfaces, which carried over to your person.”

To test if this was true, Viale went over to the wall of Coco Jumbo, but was interrupted by Polnareff, “it probably won’t work in here, as that isn’t actually a surface. It’s a Stand.”

Right then. Polareff continued, “There are certain rules to Stands. First, only Stand Users, like yourself, can see other Stands (barring special exceptions). Second, only Stands can harm other Stands, which brings me to the third rule. Third, all damage that a Stand sustains is reflected onto its User (barring special exceptions again).”

Viale sat back down on the couch, making sure to not shake himself too badly as to knock himself out. His brain was running on fumes right now. “Ok, ok. I get it. Can I leave now?”

Polnareff nodded, “If you want,” as Viale was about to ask how to leave, Polnareff spoke again, “Oh, one more thing you might need to know.”

“What is it?”

“All Stand Users are bound to meet each other at some point. It’s fate that they do. Don’t be surprised if you start seeing other Stand Users popping out of the woodwork.” With that warning, Polnareff told Viale that, to leave, you simply raise your hand and Mr President ejects you from the room.

~~~

Master’s Academy Dorm 52

Evening

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Morioh in the Early Afternoon

Viale tumbled onto the floor at the foot of his bed, he knocked over his suitcase. He scrambled to get up as he saw what he now knew was the Stand Arrow on the floor outside of his case. He rushed over to grab it, but just as he was putting it back in his case, the door flung open. In came a large teenage boy - bigger than Viale - with black hair and a piercing in one ear. His jeans had holes in them, and his zebra-striped T-shirt was more monochrome giraffe rather than zebra. Judging by the mountains of clothes on the floor, Viale thought it was safe to assume this student was his roommate.

“Hey, man,” he said with a boisterous voice, “I heard you’re my new roommate! I’m Nemico. Anicio Nemico.” He did a once-over on Viale, “Woah, what is that arrow? That’s so cool! Can I see it?” Anicio all but flung himself at Viale but didn’t manage to get the arrow, as it was now locked in its case. “Aww, c’mon, man,” Anicio complained, “at least tell me your name. The teacher didn’t tell me.”

“Alright,” Viale accepted, lowering his guard a smidgen, “I’m Gioviale Giovanna, but I go by Viale.”

“Ok, then,” Anicio looked over the room and spotted Coco Jumbo on Viale’s newly acquired bed, “Woah, is that a tortoise? I didn’t know we were allowed pets!”

Viale picked up Coco Jumbo, “His name is Coco Jumbo, and he’s a tortoise, not a turtle.” Viale neglected to mention that he didn’t know if they were allowed pets or not and that the tortoise was a stowaway. 

“Well, anyway, the teacher told me to tell you to come downstairs for dinner, so, y’know, do that.” With that eloquent instruction, Amicio left the room. 

Viale just wanted to go to bed.

~~~

Dorm Cafeteria

Evening

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Italian Restaurant

There certainly were people in the cafeteria. By Viale’s quick count judging by how many there were per table, there were about 300 students having dinner. The downstairs part of the dorm featured the cafeteria, male, female, and universal bathrooms and showers, and the teacher’s rooms. 

The cafeteria itself housed twelve tables, six on each side of the room, all forming an aisle to the kitchen that, once a student had gotten their food, they could either walk to the left or right, depending on where they wanted to sit. 

Seeing that the whole school was in this room, most of the tables were filled. As Viale walked down the middle of the aisle, he caught a few glances his way. He decided now would be a good time to make a first impression. He straightened his back, ran his hands through his hair, and donned a confident smile.

As Viale reached the kitchen, he noticed that the people in the kitchen weren’t staff, but rather students, much like himself. The girl that greeted him from across the counter spoke, “Hi, what would you like?”

Now, Viale fancied himself quite the ladies’ man. At his old school, girls would flock to him, not just because of his looks, but because of how much interest he showed in them, individually. Gioviale Giovanna respected everyone. However, despite the school’s female population’s best efforts, he never once reciprocated their feelings. He now got an understanding of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of this.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Setting Off

The girl standing in front of him was quite beautiful. She had auburn hair pushing being considered a redhead down to her shoulders. Her face was perfectly constructed, with beautiful brown eyes, a cute nose, and amazing lips. She was on the shorter side, but that was expected. Viale was caught in amazement, his cool face slipped away as he looked at this girl. She had on an apron, as was common in a kitchen, but underneath, she had a tacky print t-shirt that said “Find X” with a red circle around the ‘X’. As she leaned on the counter, she cleared her throat.

“Oh, uhm, sorry,” Viale stammered, “what do you have? I’m new, so I don’t know how this works.”

“Right,” she listed the menu, which was clearly displayed above the pass-through. Somehow, Viale had completely missed it.

“I’ll have some lasagne, then,” Viale finally answered. Viale fancied himself a good judge of character. He didn’t judge only based on looks. From the extremely limited interaction he had with her, Viale understood the gist of what she was about. 

“Great,” she responded, leaving her leaning position, “If you need someone to help you out if you get lost, come see me, ok?”

Viale nodded dumbly as a plate of greens and lasagne was put in his hands. He went left around the perimeter of the cafeteria until he saw someone he knew, Amicio. He was late to dinner as he had to give Viale instructions. 

As Viale sat down next to him, Amicio asked, “Have you met Mr Zepelli yet, Viale? He’s the new maths teacher. Everyone loves him.”

Dismissing the question, Viale responded, “Hey, who is that in the kitchen?”

“Oh, her?” Amicio smiled, “that’s Sana Rossi. Everyone had a crush on her in first year. Guess you’re catching it now?” 

Viale sputtered, and waved him off. “Nah man, too much effort.” 

Sana Rossi. That was her name. Viale rather liked it.

~~~

Master’s Academy Dorm 52

Nighttime

Viale lay awake, still thinking of the girl in the kitchen, with the maths pun on her shirt and that cheeky glint in her eye. He couldn’t stop thinking of her! The lasagne in his stomach was doing backflips just picturing her.

Ask he was about to pass out, he heard a quiet “ouch” coming from the foot of his bed. Viale had asked Amicio to help clean up the room from the mess, but ultimately refused cleaning his part of the room for only that it was “his half”.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Anyaku 

Viale sat up, slightly mad that his roommate stopped him from nodding off. He turned on his bedside lamp to see Amicio facing the opposite wall. Amicio turned to face Viale, showing that he was holding a pried open case, the same one that held the Stand Arrow. Amicio was shocked, seeing that the cut he obtained from the arrow had already healed.

“Amicio?” Viale approached him, still dressed only in his boxers, “What are you doing?”

“He said this would happen. He said I would get one.” Amicio responded ominously. Viale looked around the room to see that the clothes and wrappers on the floor started rising. The shirts went on top of the pants, the pants on top of the shoes, and the wrappers filled in where the body parts should be.

“｢Innervisions｣!” 

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Master’s Academy Dorm 52

Midnight

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Anyaku 

Innervisions jumped at Viale. Diving onto the floor to avoid being grappled, Viale made a loud noise when he hit the floor. Loud enough to wake up Coco Jumbo, and in turn, Polnareff, who was sleeping in the tortoise that was sleeping on the desk.

“Viale!” Polnareff yelled, “That’s an enemy Stand User!”

“Yeah, no shit!” Viale responded as he dodged the weak but fast and furious punches from the literal pile of trash.

“Is there a guy in that turtle?” Amicio commanded another Innervision to form from the remaining junk. It formed and grabbed Coco Jumbo by the shell. Seeing as he didn’t want to hurt a turtle, Amicio merely opened a desk drawer and put Polnareff inside, who was shouting protests as he was put safely in a desk, “Can’t have any witnesses.”

“Now, Viale, my good pal friend,” Amicio returned to the first Innervision and another newly formed one pinning Viale down by the arms, “I know you just got here and all, but you are going to have to leave the school. Sorry.”

Viale was hardly in a position of refusal, seeing as he was at the mercy of Amicio’s closet, but he felt that while Innervisions was multiple objects, they weren’t particularly strong. He could easily take more than a few punches. Amicio, however, saw this, too. To combat this he commanded the Innervision that had put Coco Jumbo in the desk drawer to help its friend.

“My Stand, Innervisions, allows me to control what’s considered junk or mess. I can turn them into humanoid forms.” As Amicio said that, two more started to form. He handed one the arrow he was still holding - he wouldn't be needing it.

Viale knew having multiple Innervisions on him at once would be bad, so he decided to finally do what he had been putting off doing this whole time. With all of his might, he flung off the two Innervisions, unexpectedly ran right through the third, flung open the door, and held his breath.

When Amicio chased after him, he found that the hall was completely desolate. Viale was nowhere to be found. He checked left. He checked right. Viale had vanished. Surely he had just run around the corner, Amicio thought. He sent two Innervisions each way - one left, one right - and kept one with himself (just in case).

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Yuki   

As the two Stands rounded the corner, a head slid out from the wall opposite the door. This head was not that of Viale, but was robotic. Its eyes and brow looked like a capital B if it were turned clockwise 90 degrees, forming what looked like a frown. The eyes themseves were simply red LEDs, circular barring the slight cutoff that made it look as if it were frowning. The head was coloured blue with accents of yellow around the focal points. Instead of a mouth, it had speakers, and instead of ears, it had microphones.

As the head came further out of the wall, it was revealed that the head had a body attached to it. The body was built like a truck, muscles somehow protruding through the metallic finish of the torso, arms and legs. The torso looked as if there was a vinyl record implanted in it, sliding under the pectoral muscles. Other than the record, the body was coloured primarily in the same blue as the head, red and yellow accents surrounding the record, and red where the record would be put on the needle of the record player.

Standing up straight, it was quite tall. As tall as Viale, who was still nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the thing shot forward towards Amicio, who was still standing there dumbly. The Innervision that was protecting him moved in front to block the punch. 

The Innervision was unsuccessful, however, as it was punched right through. The wrappers were scattered everywhere across the hall as the Stand fell down. With his other two Stands still around the corner, Amicio was defenceless for the time being.

~~~

“Well, Gio? What would you hope to gain from this place?”

What does he want? Looking back on this moment in this do-or-die situation, he really didn’t have a proper answer. What do I want? He asked himself, do I want a simple life? Do I want a fulfilling life?

Viale was puzzled. The only thing he could come up with was blue skies and sunshine. Happy days where he could do whatever he wanted. Where he could be free from his problems. But not in some Deus Ex Machina kind of way; in a way he forges himself. 

He wanted to forge his own blue skies.

~~~

“｢Mr. Blue Sky｣!”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stand Activated

Viale emerged from the wall to catch his breath. He had discovered that he could see, hear and speak through Mr. Blue Sky, as it had microphones in its ear-hole thing, and a speaker for a mouth. He could not, however, breathe through his Stand.

“So you’ve finally decided to reveal your Stand, huh?” Amicio asked, “It seems like you can enter surfaces whenever you want. A powerful ability, but not as good as Innervisions!” The two Innervisions that Viale had sent on a wild goose chase returned to their master as he finished his proclamation.

Mr. Blue Sky brawled the two remaining trash heaps. The blue Stand ducked and weaved. Whilst Innervisions wasn’t physically powerful, it could take a hit and dish them back at a rather fast pace. Learning from his opponent, Amicio quickly learned that he could coordinate his Stands to fight together for a much greater effect. A quick one-two by the left Stand led straight to Mr. Blue Sky being flung into the second. The second jumped on Mr. Blue Sky’s back and started whacking him in the back of the head, Viale feeling the pain. The first Innervision also started to regain form, as the trash itself hadn’t been destroyed.

Shit! I have to beat this guy before he gets a third Stand! Viale thought, Didn’t Polnareff say that all damage a Stand sustains, it is reflected upon the User? Why hasn’t this guy keeled over?

Viale finally realised that since he wasn’t actually tearing the clothes or breaking the wrappers, Amicio wasn’t taking any damage, unlike himself. As he looked closer, he remembered the spoken by-line Polnareff told him, “... Third, all damage that a Stand sustains is reflected onto its User ( barring special exceptions ).”

Wait a second… this guy’s Stand isn’t even a Stand! It’s just a bunch of junk! The Stand mustn’t have a form!  Viale smirked, I can work with this.

He commanded Mr. Blue Sky to punch one of the Innervisions in the torso as hard as he could. 

“ Mora! ”

The tank top flew backwards, as well as the trash inside of it. Surprised that it worked, Viale recalled Mr. Blue Sky and dived to grab the shirt.

If I can just touch the shirt, I can put it in the floor! Then this one won’t be able to regenerate!

Amicio noticed what Viale was going for, but just as the Innervisions turned to obstruct Viale, Mr. Blue Sky emerged from Viale.

“ Mora mora mora! ”

Mr. Blue Sky pummelled one of the two remaining Innervisions directly into both the door to their dorm, and the other into the wall beside it. Only the shirts were stuck, but doing so completely immobilised them. If the Stands disconnected from the shirt, they’d fall apart.

“Wow,” Viale confidently stated, “I know I’m a pretty good actor, but you fell for my simple ruse?” With the Stands stuck in the surfaces of Viale’s choosing, Amicio also found himself unable to move his body, only his hands and his head, “You thought I was just targeting just one of your Innervisions, but actually, I was gunning for the total wipeout!”

Amicio felt like he was iron glued to a magnet, watching Viale in horror as Mr. Blue Sky hovered behind him menacingly, “Wait wait! Viale - buddy, chum, pal - please!” Amicio’s hands were together, as if praying, and he was bordering crying at this point, “I was told to do this! To use that arrow and drive you out of the school! I wasn’t trying to kill you!”

“Mora!”

“Who ordered you!” Viale grabbed Amicio by the shirt and de-summoned Mr. Blue Sky, only lifting him up slightly, “I want names.”

“I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know…” he kept repeating.

“I know you do, but you just don’t want to reveal them,” Amicio squeaked out a little noise. Viale walked past the boy stuck in the middle of the hallway, “Hmm. If they want me out of the school, they are probably inside the school. It’s also gotta be someone you hold in high regard if you’re willing to defend them. Let me guess: is it… a teacher?”

“What? No! Haha! Why would a teacher want you out of the school so badly that one would force a student to beat him up?” Amicio’s argument made sense - there simply was no motive that Viale could think of. However, what Amicio didn’t know was that Viale fancied himself a good judge of character, and didn’t believe a word he spewed.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

“Well, tomorrow, I’m going to have a little chat with the teachers I have for my classes,” Viale concluded, “In the meantime, you are going to request a change of dorm rooms. Make sure it goes through, alright?” To emphasise his position as ‘on top’, Viale summoned Mr. Blue Sky and placed his hand on Amicio’s shoulder. Amicio squealed, “Do you have a friend’s room you can stay in? Good. Now scram.”

Amicio scurried away - presumably towards his friend’s dorm room. As he gained enough distance, the Innervisions that were still stuck in the wall sagged over and lost their life Amicio gave them.

~-~

｢Innervisions｣

Stats:

Power: D

Speed: B

Range: C

Stamina: A

Precision: C

Potential: D

~-~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Travellers Who Rest

“It’s a shame, really,” Viale said to himself, “the first functioning Stand User I come across is quite the pushover. It wasn’t as if Innervisions was a bad Stand, it’s just that Mr Nemicio didn’t know how to use it.” Not that he could blame him - Amicio only had the Stand for about half an hour.

Viale wandered through his dorm door - still covered in clothes - and inspected the mess the two had made. Summoning Mr. Blue Sky, Viale decided to test out the limits of his Stand’s limits by cleaning up the place (his roommate wouldn’t be doing it). He discovered that Mr. Blue Sky’s range was around two metres, as he had to move around for the Stand to be able to reach some of the corners. The Stand was really fast when he did manage to reach its target. It was fast enough to rearrange a corner of the room in a few seconds, and precise enough to fold all of the clothes neatly. Viale noticed that his Stand had above average stamina, only needing to rest after finishing cleaning the room.

Remembering the Frenchman in his desk, retrieved his pet tortoise from the drawer. 

“God damn, man, what do you–” Polnareff looked at who was picking him up, “Oh… you beat him,” Viale nodded, “good job.”

“Thanks. I’ve never experienced something like that before,” Sure, he had gotten into fights before - mostly with bullies that didn’t know when to quit, “Is that how Stand fights usually play out?”

“Well,” Polnareff started, “I didn’t see your fight, but seeing as I only heard the shouting and your Stand cry, I assume you outsmarted him in some way?”

“Yeah, though it wasn’t hard.”

“I remember my first Stand fight,” Polnareff reminisced, “wow. That was almost fifty years ago - I feel old.”

“You only look around forty, though,” Viale commented.

“I stopped ageing when I became a tortoise - now I age at the same rate as Coco Jumbo. Unfortunately, Terrapins only live for about thirty years, so I’m expecting to bite the du– I mean, keel over in a few years.”

That was a shame, Viale thought. His ghostly body looked healthy (other than the fact that he was a ghost), but that was only a farce. His father had taught him all about animals - that was one thing Gioviale knew about his father: Giorno Giovanna loved animals. He had thought the tortoise looked a bit on the older side, but it was rather unfortunate.

“Ah well, c’est la vive . You can’t win them all,” Coco Jumbo retracted into its shell as Polnareff sank into the key, “You, mon amie , should get some sleep.”

Viale nodded and got ready for bed. Sadly, during the fight he accumulated quite the sweat, but the showers were closed for the night. Viale, however, slept soundly.

Just as he dozed off, his phone beeped:

Father  

Missed calls: (3)

21:46: How was your first day Gioviale?

21:53: Are you receiving this?

22:04: Viale, please respond as soon as possible.

~~~

Somewhere

At the same time

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Killer

“Sir?”

“ I assume you’re calling me this late at night to tell me Nemicio has been defeated? ”

“...Yes, sir. Giovanna bested him. Zeppeli was listening in.”

“ That’s fine. Ask Zeppeli how he went. I want to know if he is as much of a threat as his father. I expected Mr Nemicio to lose. Giovanna is, after all, a Joestar. ”

“There was one thing. One of Nemicio’s Stands - an Innervision - dropped the Giovanna Stand Arrow around a corner, and Zeppeli managed to pick it up after they both left.”

“ Excellent. Spread it around. We want to make sure to keep Giovanna busy. ”

Click.

~~~

｢Mr. Blue Sky｣

Stats:

Power: A

Speed: A

Range: D (2m)

Stamina: B

Precision: A

Potential: B

~~~

Cafeteria

Morning

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Day job

Viale was tired as he walked down to the cafeteria. 

After Viale got his breakfast (unfortunately not from Rossi), he found a rather empty table; perhaps some people were late to breakfast. The only person there was someone Viale did not recognise. Really, the only notable thing about the boy was that he was staring at his A4 notebook, sometimes emoting something.

The boy asked, without glancing up, “Why are you staring at me, Gioviale Giovanna?”

Now Viale fancied himself a man of reason. Even with Stands, he acted mostly on logic and rarely on emotion. All Stands followed some logic. Mr President was a room inside of a tortoise that someone could enter through a key on its shell, but that was still its logic; you couldn’t enter Mr President through the underside, for example. 

This made it easy to see when something was off. He knew to follow his gut feeling of ‘something is not right’. This would be applied to Stands, too. If he were under a stealthy attack, he’d probably be able to tell. This is what led him to believe that this comment by the boy that sat across from him was a little off. He was not sure if he was an enemy, so he had to treat carefully.

“How do you know my name?” Gioviale asked. He expected the boy to have heard it from a teacher, or maybe someone found out about the new arrival at the school and had spread the information around.

The boy responded after reading a bit more of his notebook, “Yes, I heard it from a teacher,” he responded.

“Well,” Viale accepted, “what’s your name?”

He did a one-over of Viale, after greeting, “Matito. Matito Romano.”

Matito looked back down at the notebook, and read, ‘Viale felt that this would be the start of an amazing friendship. What a dumbass.’ 

Matito agreed.

~~~

Giovanna Estate, Naples

Around the same time

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Mayoi

The Giovanna Estate was quiet without Viale there. The vast hallways were only ever filled with the footsteps of the occupants. Usually, Viale would be running through the hallway, playing with something, smashing a vase or two, or maybe talking with his friends. Nowadays, the only rooms that were being used were Giorno’s office, the kitchen, and the numerous bathrooms.

Giorno’s office certainly had personality. The two walls on the sides of the room were fitted with bookshelves that held dozens upon dozens of books on biology, economics, and other assorted topics. One small section of the bookcase on the right was dedicated to photos of his family, as well as some picture books about various talking animals and happy suns. On the back wall with no bookshelves was a grandiose window that displayed a lovely view of Naples.

Mista stood on the door side of Giorno’s desk. 

“Any news on Apatia?” Giorno asked. He was sitting in his favourite velvet chair that he had bought from one of the residents in his neighbourhood after they moved out. It was now in front of Giorno’s desk, which was decorated with picture frames and primary school achievements Viale had earned. Of course, Giorno kept a few items on his desk that were never moved. A zipper, someone’s favourite bottle of wine, and a pair of flowers in a vase. This was the only vase in the house Giorno had specifically told Viale not to break.

“Nothing, yet,” Guido Mista responded. Years after they’d met, Mista was still faithful and loyal to his best friend and boss. He had doffed his distinct red and blue hat with a down arrow as it was only needed for combat.

“Why do they make all this noise one week, then decide to leave us alone the next? It doesn’t make any sense!” Giorno exclaimed. He stood up. Pacing around the back wall of his office, he said, “and! They haven’t just jumped towns! I asked our informants in Rome and Bari - they said that the only ones making trouble were themselves! I then had to scold them for making trouble when they were meant to be keeping quiet, you know, like spies?!”

Mista decided to calm Giorno down, “Hey, man. I know you’re stressed about Viale’s move, but you have to focus on what is going well right now; you have to keep your composure,” he approached Giorno and leaned on the wall next to him, narrowly missing the bug encyclopaedia, “Like, for example,” he held out his hands about to list some things, “Polnareff is with Viale - he’ll watch over your son, Naples’ drug trade is all but obliterated, Viale presumably has a Stand now and can defend himself, and he’s far far away from the locals.”

“That reminds me: I need to try Viale’s phone again,” Giorno tapped the side of his head, “I’ve sent him three texts and tried to call him three times.”

“You know,” Mista began, “maybe uprooting him from his established life and sending him to a boarding school halfway across the country would make him a little indifferent towards you,” Giorno side-eyed him, “Just sayin’,” he said as he shrugged and tilted his head.

“You know who he reminds me of?” Mista asked. Giorno looked at him with a quizzical look, “He reminds me of that old guy we met at your family reunion that one time. When was it?” Mista tapped his chin.

“2009, Mista. That was twenty years ago.” Wow, that made Mista feel old. “But now that you mention it, Polnareff said he reminded him of some other old guy. Maybe he’s the same?”

“Who knows? Polnareff didn’t go to the reunion, if I remember correctly,” Mista clarified, “what was that guy’s name, by the way?”

Giorno moved back into his favourite seat, “Let me think. I went to his funeral a few years after that; back in 2017. Yes, I believe his name was Joseph Joestar. ”

~~~

Master’s Academy Main Building

Morning

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Day job

Viale fancied himself a logical thinker. He made connections between things that no one else usually did. For example, the definition of soup is a substance or mixture regarded as resembling soup in appearance or consistency. Viale made the connection that, with this definition, anything could be soup. Some crazy person could regard anything as looking like soup, therefore it would be considered a soup. Viale understood this. What Viale did not understand, however, was the layout of Master’s Academy. It wasn’t like he didn’t pay attention during the tour - he found the principal rather interesting to listen to. This layout just made no sense to navigate.

Viale found himself panicking in the middle of the hallway as people walked past him. He tried not to show his panic, but it evidently didn't work very well. To Viale’s relief, he saw the beautiful girl that had offered him help the night before.

“Hey!” He shouted over the hustle and bustle of the hallway, “Hey, Rossi!” She whipped her head around and noticed his slight panic.

She ducked and weaved through the crowd with a rather bemused expression, “Hey…” she tapped her chin and looked up, thinking, “Giovanni?”

“Giovanna. Gioviale Giovanna. I go by Viale, though.”

“That’s right,” she refocused back on his face, “What can I help you with?”

“Right… yeah…” Viale was still shocked that this girl could make him stare like this unabashedly, “I have Mathematics B in… the E wing?”

“Right, follow me,” she responded, “I don’t have class now, so I got some time.”

As they made their way to the E wing, Rossi gave Viale the directions from the front entrance to the rest of his classes. Viale studiously wrote them down on his pocket notebook. In between these times was Rossi asking Viale about several things - small talk really, not that Viale minded.

“Looks like you have Business B with me,” she noted, “I look forward to it,” She smiled at him.

Uh oh, Viale thought, I’m not going to be able to pay attention all year.  

“Yeah, looks like,” he responded, “My dad’s into business - he’s a banker - so if you want, I could help you with it.”

“Really? That’d be great,” Rossi thanked, “business is my worst subject right now,”

Rossi continued, “Hey, you said your name was Gioviale Giovanni?” He nodded, “Why don’t people call you GioGio? You know, like JoJo?”

Viale grimaced, “Apparently that’s what my dad’s friends call him - his name is Giorno Giovanna. I haven’t seen his friends other than Guido for a while, though.”

“Who’s Guido?” Rossi asked, cutely tilting her head to the left, “Your uncle?”

Under his breath, Viale muttered, “ The tortoise is my uncle ,” then louder, “No, he’s my dad’s best friend and business partner.”

“Huh,” she paused, “My mamma has a friend called Guido. Wonder if they’re the same one…”

As they arrived at Viale’s maths class, E-2, Viale turned to Rossi, “Thanks, Rossi, you’re a real lifesaver,”

She giggled. “No problem, GioGio,” she teased as she walked off.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Masters Academy
Lunchtime

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Mayoi

The first few periods of the day flew by - Maths and Literacy weren’t the easiest, but he had already covered the topics they were learning about at his previous school. His mind constantly wandered to the girl who directed him to his class. The girl who puzzled him. He had never felt like this towards anyone else, not from his last school and certainly not this one. 

Speaking of which, Viale was only a day in and he had made multiple enemies. Viale had Maths B with Mr Zeppeli, who Viale had a suspicion of. He didn’t know what Zeppeli had against him, but Viale was convinced that he himself didn’t do anything to piss him off, so he came to the conclusion that the surname attached to his given name was making a teacher try to kick him out. That is to say, Zeppeli is someone his father’s side of the family had pissed off in the past. Or maybe 

Speaking of his father’s side: Viale hadn’t heard much about his heritage. He knew that his father wasn’t actually Italian, but rather British-Japanese (British on his father’s side, Japanese on his mother’s side). He also knew that on official documents ‘Giorno Giovanna’ was named ‘Haruno Shiobana’, therefore Viale’s grandmother was named Shiobana, too. He had never met the woman himself, but he knew Giorno didn’t like to talk about her.

One thing Giorno had told his son about was his grandfather. His name was Jonathan Joestar, a British nobleman who died young at sea. Some of the information didn’t line up, however, as the last known British Jonathan Joestar recorded on the internet passed away in early 1889. On the odd chance that Viale brought up his grandfather, Giorno would always curtly tell him that he was a hero to many. This only left Viale with more questions than the answers he sought.

These were some things in Viale’s mind as he exited the school gate for his hour of lunchtime break. He didn’t have any friends, so he opted to explore the surroundings. When he arrived at the school, he was more focused on its appearance rather than the location and surroundings. Master’s Academy ( Accademia Magistrale ) was situated within walking distance from the famous part of Venice, in Favaro Veneto . If Viale so wanted to, he could take a dip in the canals and get every disease known to man due to the water being so dirty. 

The school grounds themselves were rather vast, with the main building and dorms being the centre of attraction. Along the fences far from the main establishment sat many sports fields - soccer, American football, tennis, athletics, and interestingly, a proper fencing setup. At lunchtime, many of the fields were being used. Viale fancied himself quite the runner, with a decently good record at his old school. Not enough for major praise, but nonetheless a useful skill.

The road out of his school featured many things. It seemed that his school’s location was not considered as wealthy as the school. In fact, it reminded him of home. The alleyways encroaching the school were dingy and shady - somewhere the best and most respected of people resided. That being gangsters and the homeless. Back in Naples, Viale constantly saw these kinds of people, but many of them never took Viale as a target - Viale figured it was his stature compelling the low-lives to keep their knives to themselves.

Amidst the hustle-and-bustle of this back-end of Venice, Viale noticed a rather fancy-looking grand hotel that looked as if it wanted to fit in with the school wealth-wise. Viale questioned its poor choice of positioning but dismissed it otherwise.

In conclusion, Viale… didn’t know what to think of the new area. On one hand, the facilities provided by the school were appreciated (though Viale didn’t think he’d ever have use for them), and the school grounds itself were up to his standard. On the other hand, he found it likely he’d be shanked on the way home from the supermarket. 

But that was a chance he was willing to take. Gotta get those groceries. 

~~~

He was barely even paying attention to the content. Most of his time in class was spent discreetly pranking his classmates. His current personal favourite was watching gleefully as the guy next to him thought he kept dropping or knocking his pencil off the table. In reality, ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ was putting the target’s pencil just barely inside the bottom of the table, only when he was distracted, and lifted its ability every time to make the pencil drop out of the table and clammer to the floor. He missed the student he was messing with glaring up a storm when his back was turned. 

Amidst the fun, the blonde's mind was thrown back to a time where his father’s friend would do similar pranks. Now that he thought about it, the pink-haired friend was likely using her Stand to pull them off. Viale was no genius when he was a five-year-old, to be fair. He didn’t know why that thought popped into his mind at that moment, but it was nice to remember that simpler time.

“Heisenburg’s principle of uncertainty is the theory that dictates the relationship between waves and matter…”

The teacher’s voice slowly faded away as Viale lost concentration. He was bored of playing jokes on his classmates. His mind was occupied by thoughts of Amicio, his literal trash Stand, and the arrow that everyone but him seemed to want. Polnareff had told him that the arrow was known to awaken Stands in those who were pierced. He couldn’t sleep after the fight – hundreds of ‘what ifs’ plagued his mind. What if Amicio had ambushed him? What if he was a bit later to return to his dorm? What if–

“Giovanna!” Viale snapped awake as he realised he had been dozing off. The teacher was his least favourite part of this class, and the cocky look on his face because he caught Viale asleep was all the most aggravating. “Could you tell me what’s wrong with this equation?”

Viale squinted whilst he read the whiteboard. It seems like his class had moved on to wave principles while he was off in his dreams. Viale sat up as he read the whiteboard that the teacher had written an equation on. After looking once again at the arrogant teacher, Viale decided no mercy.

“Wavelength should be divided by period instead of multiplied.” Before the teacher could respond, he added, “and before you ask, period times wave speed equals wavelength.”

A few classmates giggled, but the teacher waved them off. 

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, I want this essay done by Monday, class!”

Viale grumbled as he mentally put another task on his ‘to do’ list. Although physics was his favourite subject, that didn’t mean he particularly enjoyed the mountains of homework he had to wade his way through on a weekly basis. 

~~~

Local Park
Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Morioh in the Early Afternoon 

Life was boring for Sana Rossi. The rare break in the monotony was what she lived for. School was the exception to this, as she was learning things every day. However, Sana believed she’d been at Master’s Academy for too long, and the co-curricular volunteering had long grown repetitive. The only one she could stomach was the cafeteria duty, as she got to greet and talk to many people. 

It was rather uncommon for Master’s Academy to gain a new student midway through the semester. It was difficult to get in at the start of the term - the school was highly prestigious. There was a large waitlist, high fees, and while the location was not the greatest, the facilities cost a mortgage-and-a-half for parents and guardians. Sana was lucky enough to scrape together a scholarship in sciences.

Then, somehow, Giovanna showed up. No one knew where he came from - the minimal interactions he had with people yielded no new information. The only true connections he’d made was with Sana herself, to which she had no idea how that happened. Viale often came to her with questions, whether about people, timetables, activities, or whatever seemed to pop into his head. 

Currently, Sana was watching Viale pass by her through the park near the Academy. Unfortunately, it was just as much a dump as the rest of the neighbourhood - barring the Academy, of course. The environmentalists of the school were advocating for a school-wide clean up of the park that was one a bright, green nature walk. Viale did not notice Sana staring; he had earphones in, presumably listening to music or something or rather. He had a skip in his step and a bop in his head, shamelessly enjoying whatever he was listening to. 

Sana decided to greet him, as he had to her all those times. Just before he strolled away from her, she got up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, GioGio,” she put on her best smile. He stopped abruptly and swivelled around, “having fun?”

“Miss Rossi, hello,” his eyes widened. To her annoyance, he didn’t take his earphones out, “how’s your day?”

“Good thanks, uh,” she raised her hand to her ears, referring to Viale’s earphones, “whatcha listening to?”

“Huh, oh– nothing, actually,” he admitted, “I just like them so people don’t bother me when I’m out.”

“Am I bothering you, then?”

He sputtered, “You? No, just let me…” he took out his earphones and tied them up, “There we go. So, Miss Rossi, what brings you here?”

“I was just heading back, actually, lunchtime is almost over, after all.”

Viale checked his wrist, ‘ Fancy watch.’ Sana thought. 

“Yeah, I guess it is,” the two stand in silence.

…

…

…

“Well, I guess we better get going, then,”

~~~

“I’m sorry, Scuderio, I just can’t let you do this.” 

“This is a mistake, Esposito – you know that.”

“It’s too dangerous; too risky! You’ll risk everything you’ve built over the past decade! It’s just… not worth it.”

“Are you saying she wasn’t worth it, Datore?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought.” 

“...I won’t let you use this school for something this nefarious, Scuderio. It’s not happening.”

“Fine. I will look elsewhere. But know this: we are not done.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Master’s Academy

Venice

Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Apppears

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, wanting to start again? This was the feeling Vuoto felt as he aimlessly wandered the streets of Venice. He was enrolled in Master’s Academy - not that many knew. 

You see, people don’t tend to notice Vuoto. Not for a lack of trying on his part. They can’t see him. He doesn’t understand; he can see himself in the mirror. He’s not invisible! After the school therapist refrained from acknowledging him, he'd gone to see the principal. Principal Esposito, god bless his soul, could see Vuoto. 

“Don’t worry too much about it,” he’d said, “you won’t be seeing these people after a few years.” He had a point. Much like he was to them, they were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. 

Vuoto adopted a peculiar view of the world. Without the option of socialising - no one paid him any mind anyways. He saw the inherent beauty in the natural world - in the things humans have accomplished. He often took breaks from school just to wander around town and marvel at the ingenuity of modern-day Venice, in contrast to the ancient canals. Vuoto also tends to read a lot, taking both inspiration and fascination from the pages.

Vuoto was minding his own business on the field outside the school, leaning against the brick dorm walls, when a boy jumped out a third-story window. Screaming like a madman, Vuoto dodged out of the way to avoid the boy, who landed with a thud.

“ Cazzo! ” the boy cursed as he dusted himself off. His head snapped to Vuoto, who was peering at him like a deer in headlights, “Sorry about that, buddy! Some bozos were chasing me, and the only quick way out of the building was the window. Sorry if I scared you, bro.”

In his head, Vuoto was reeling. First, a boy jumping out a window, second, said boy being merely inconvenienced by the three-story fall, third, the book he was reading, Molto Rumore Per Nulla by Shakespeare, was in the mud. 

“Are you good there? You made me drop my book!” he gestured to the play.

The boy stood at a modest 174cm tall, dressed in a warm puffer jacket, school-approved slacks, rather worn-out boots, and a tacky t-shirt that read ‘Watermelon? I barely know her!” in English. 

He curled an eyebrow, “Sure, but calm down a bit,” the boy said as he dropped down to pick up the book, “What are you even doing out here? It’s past curfew.”

“No one really cares whether or not I’m late,” he pondered, “now that I think about it, why do you care?”

The boy looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“No one cares about me.”

“Well,” he pondered, “I didn’t get your name.”

“...I’m Vuoto,” he responded cautiously.

“Nice to meet you, Vuoto,” he extended his hand, “I’m Fragi ,”

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Italian Restaurant

At Vuoto’s behest, the two were exploring Venice. They were in the old city. Around 2020, the government decided to invest more into infrastructure away from the famous canals, relegating them to tourism. After the 2020 lockdowns invited sea life back into the city, more tourists came to see the changes that had taken place. All of the production happened outside the city, in the ‘new city’ that was built more recently, in order to keep pollution out of the tourist spots.

Vuoto appreciated the inherent beauty that flooded back into the City of Water. He remembers when his parents brought him to see the famous waterways when he was a boy, but they were never this clear. But right now, Vuoto had a curiosity he had to quench.

“Are you gonna explain how you casually survived a fall from three stories?” Vuoto asked between bites, “That’s not something people can just do,”

“Really? I’ve seen at least ten other people do that,”

“ Looney Tunes doesn’t count,”

“Oh…” he looks dejected, “well that leaves one person I’ve seen do it,”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

…

…

…

“Then how did you do it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Vuoto was starting to get frustrated. Sure, the guy had come with him on a walk, but only after promises of food that he was beginning to consider rescinding. 

“Look man,” Fragi came to a stop, Vuoto having to turn around in front of him, “I’m not just gonna go around telling a random guy everything about myself.”

That’s fair, “That’s fair,”

The awkward silence was deafening. As they continued walking, Vuoto considered the facts. Fragi had fallen out of a window. The window was three stories high. Three stories was around 9 metres high. Through some quick calculations in his head, he figured that Fragi was falling at around 13m/s, – easily enough to snap a neck – yet Fragi was walking around like nothing happened. 

Vuoto came to the conclusion that Fragi was either really good at hiding injuries (this one he was least sure of), or had some kind of supernatural ability to remain uninjured. Another conclusion that Vuoto came to was that he hated Fragi’s shirt. It was more aggravating than the man himself.

After a long walk from the academy, the pair found a place to eat: a classic sit-outside diner. Vuoto found the location to be rather picturesque, the surrounding canals and bridges. While it was edging on dusk, Vuotov recognised the sun reflecting eastward off the ancient rivers as a favourite sight of his.

As the two sat down in an uncomfortable silence, Fragi laid his bag down on the ground. The waitress walked over and took out a notepad from her stylish apron.

“What’ll it be today, lov’ly?” she asked Fragi, “We got the Happy Hour menu right now… but you don’t look old enough, so just ignore that part.”

“I guess I’ll just get a cheeseburger.” The waitress wrote it down. Vuoto decided to take a look at the menu to prepare to order, but–

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - A Fate that Still Remains

‘She’s walking away! She didn’t even acknowledge me!’

“Wow, you got mega-ignored!” Fragi exclaimed idly, “Feels bad, man,”

“What the hell!” Vuoto all but jumped out of his seat and power walked over to the waitress, who was returning to the counter, “Hey!” he put his hand on her shoulder and spun her around. In response… nothing. She just stared past him, as if he didn’t exist.

Vuoto was flabbergasted. Even people outside of school seemed to ignore him, “Hello? You missed my order?”

The waitress merely continued to stare past him. A coworker called out, “Hey, Maria, you gonna process the order?”

She nodded to him and continued behind the counter. Vuoto looked around - none of the other patrons spared him a glance for his outburst. Vuoto had had enough.

“Hey! Can any of you see me?! I’m right here!” He waved his hand in front of an elderly man enjoying his spaghetti, and– nothing. No response. Vuoto felt a tug. His head whipped around to see Fragi looking at him incredulously. 

“We need ta’ get you outta here, man, I don’t care about the food…”

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Anyaku 

The two were walking home. Again in silence. It was pretty much completely dark out; not a good amount of light for two boys walking through the bad neighbourhood that separated the Academy from Venice proper. Of course, they were wary. Vuoto had heard stories of assaults and rapes happening to those unfortunate enough to be caught straying from the streetlamps. On the way back, Vuoto had purposefully tried to walk into as many strangers as possible; causing some minor inconveniences; the whole kitten kaboodle. 

It didn’t make sense. These people had never even met Vuoto, yet they were ignoring him as if he had kicked a toddler in front of them. Vuoto figured, after much trial and error, something supernatural was afoot. The fact that Fragi could see him and also had something unexplainable happen to him further solidified this line of thought. 

Now certain that a majority of people were unable to see him, Vuoto decided to push the limits. As the two were passing by an alley that, while it was a shortcut back to the school, it was also a shortcut to getting mugged and possibly injured. Despite this, Vuoto turned heel and set his sights to the alley.

“Hey– wait! Don’t go in there!” Fragi shout-whispered, “It’s not safe!”

“Oh, please,” Vuoto responded at full volume, “I can take care of myself.” 

This had the intended effect of forcing Fragi to follow him. An unforeseen consequence, Vuoto found, was that the alley reeked of piss and shit. Empty bottles strewn out all over the place - the two had to make sure not to trip - and syringes littered the ground. The metaphorical light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel. The streetlight shining through, interrupted by the jutting of the bricks lining the walls. They were almost through! But then–

“Oi,”

–oh no.

“Were ya just gonna waltz on by without sayin’ ‘hi’?” 

It was a little man. Smaller than both Vuoto and Fragi. Way below average for the time. The rest of him was a tad more intimidating, though. Black and yellow teeth, bushy beard, one eye scratched out, his head of hair in a messy bun. The most intimidating part of him, however, was the three-inch-long knife he was holding to Fragi’s back. 

“I know where you’re off to. That damned academy, right?” he asked, “Ah, damn them all. I thought they only ‘ccepted smart’ns in, but you’re walking all by yaself at the crack of dusk.”

Vuoto’s breath was caught in his throat. The little man couldn’t see him. He could run and never look back. Fragi would be fine; he fell out of a three-storey window and walked it off. ‘And no-one would know, nor care.’

As he turned heel, he heard Fragi’s cry.

…

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Oh Please…

…

‘But I would.’

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. His actions would dictate the flow of the inevitable fight. Once again, he considered the facts:

1. The small man couldn’t see or hear him. Judging by the reaction from the woman in the restaurant, he could manhandle people all he wants, too.
2. Fragi could see him. He needed to get Fragi to safety. 
3. Fragi could also interfere.
4. He was scared shitless.

His head snapped around. There was about three metres between his fist and the guy’s skull. 

“Fragi. He can’t see me,” Vuoto exclaimed in full volume, “keep him talking. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“So guy, what’s your name?” Fragi questioned, as he did not in fact know the guy’s name, “surely you have one.”

“‘Course, I have one!” the guy aggressively responded, “name’s Chuck. Chuck Berry. Not that you need to know that. Now you know the drill. I want the Euro’s.”

“Right, right. It’s in my inside pocket.” Fragi reached slowly inside his coat, glaring daggers at Vuoto, urging him on to ‘ hurry up! ’.

Vuoto was still considering what to start with. Whilst Fragi’s hand was rustling around in his jacket, Vuoto picked up a rusted metal bar that looked as if it had hallen off a ladder. He didn’t want to hurt the guy too badly, but he had to choose a place to hit that wouldn’t move and accidentally hit Fragi.

“I know you’re stallin’, shitstick. I’m not gonna take any chances.”

Chuck all of a sudden swung his arm back and forth, inserting his knife into Fragi’s lower back. Simultaneously, Vuoto swung the pipe perpendicular to the back of the man’s knees.

Fragi cried out in pain, while the man crumpled down, not expecting to have his knees give out. The two of them fell over, one forwards, one backwards. Unfortunately for Mr. Berry, his head landed badly on a loose brick on the ground, soundly knocking him out. 

~~~

｢Coldplay｣

User: Vuoto

Stats:

Power: ∅

Speed: ∅

Range: E

Stamina: ∅

Precision: A

Potential: A

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - A Fate that Still Remains

Vuoto dropped the pipe and rushed over to Fragi’s side.

“Why did you save me? You could’ve ran away if you wanted to!” Fragi exclaimed, clutching his side in pain.

“I couldn’t leave you here, man–”

“HEY! You two!” Fragi, still lying on the ground, couldn’t see who it was, but from the voice and the nervousness in Vuoto’s eyes, he could tell it was a teacher. A teacher who can see Vuoto , “What’s going on here?”

“M-Mr. Zeppeli! Fragi’s been hurt!” Vuoto responded. He gestured to the unconscious Chuck Berry, “T-This guy tried to m-mug him. He couldn’t see me, though, so I-I knocked him out.”

“He couldn’t see you?”

“No, most people can’t. Only you, apparently, Fragi, and the Principle can see me. Everyone else just acts like I’m not there,” Vuoto responded curtly.

Zeppeli approached the two, avoiding the loose bricks that were Berry’s downfall, “Alright, you two, we don’t talk about this.”

In a flash, Mr. Zeppeli’s finger disappeared, Fragi’s stab wound was stitched up, and the finger returned.

“Wha–”

“We. Do not. Speak of this,” the two felt an intense aura surrounding Zeppeli as they took the instructions to heart, “You two seem to have abilities. Fragi, has anything unusual happened to you lately?”

“I fell out a three-storey window and was fine…?”

“That explains it,” he took a breath, “You two have something called a Stand - a manifestation of your fighting spirit. It looks like Fragi cannot be harmed by his own actions - like falling out of a window - but can be hurt by others. Vuoto, I believe you aren’t able to be seen or perceived by anyone without a Stand.”

“That… explains a lot. How did this happen? How did I get one of these… Stands?”

Zeppeli opened and closed his mouth, deciding against answering. Instead, he said, “Let’s get Fragi here to the hospital,” as he brought out his phone to call 112, “Hello? Yes, I’ve got a student with a stab wound here. I’ve stitched him up, but he might have some internal bleeding. Where are we? We’ll meet you next to Master’s Academy… yes that one. Alright, cheers.”

“Now, Vuoto, when they get here, I want you to be back inside the grounds, safe. Alright?” He nodded, “Now help your classmate up.”

“I’m actually older than him…”

~~~

｢Stayin’ Alive｣

User: Fragi Vole

Bound Stand

Stats: 

Power: ∅

Speed: A

Range: ∅

Stamina: A

Precision: ∅

Potential: A

~~~

Later that night

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Killer

“You can’t be throwing that thing around willy-nilly,”

“Look, teach, you made the decision to give it to me and keep it in my care. I’m not about to betray your trust like that. Besides, the boss wants more Stand users walking around, and you don’t want to argue with the boss, do you?”

“I can still give you detention.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Mr. President

Master’s Academy

Early Morning

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

“So, Viale,” 

“So, Polnareff,”

The two were sitting opposite each-other. They had been going back and forth like this for around ten minutes. ‘Honestly,’ thought Coco Jumbo, ‘it’s getting annoying.’ Not that anyone would ever hear her. Yeah, Coco Jumbo was female. Yeah, she was sentient. She’d taken refuge in Mr. President when that scary black guy with that funky arrow was returning everyone’s souls. Polnareff was nice to her. Nicer than the pink-haired goth guy, her last owner. To her, Polnareff was more of a business partner. ‘Anyway, back to the conversation.’

“So, Viale,” 

“So, Polnareff,”

‘Yeah, they’re gonna be here a while…’

“Why haven’t you answered any of your father’s calls?”

‘Ohh, the knockout blow!’

“I haven’t seen a need to.”

‘Great return! Let’s see how our resident frenchie responds…’

“That’s not why he’s calling you, Viale.”

“Oh really? I thought he only ever did things out of necessity?”

‘Dayumn, boy–’

“Coco, please, we are having a serious conversation here.”

‘Sorry, Pol…’

“Anyway,” Polnareff shifted in his seat, “You misunderstand your father, Viale,”

“What is there to misunderstand?” Viale spat back, “Misunderstand that he’s not who he says he is? That he and his friends have basically had superpowers since before I was born? That my godfather is a tortoise? Should I misunderstand that–”

“I get it, Viale,” Polnareff sighed, holding the bridge of his nose in his fingers, “You should understand why he took this approach. While I can’t talk about it too much, your father’s work is very dangerous.”

“And obviously more important than me.”

“…but – you didn’t let me finish – he cares very very much about you. More than you could possibly imagine. If you just talked to him–”

“I’m good, thank you,” Polnareff lay silent, desperately attempting to convince Viale otherwise. Viale checked his watch, “I gotta get ready for school.”

He raised his hand, and with a forceful pull, he was ejected from the tortoise.

…

‘That was awkward…’

“Shut up, Jumbo.”

~~~

Master’s Academy

Hallway

Mid-Morning

Vuoto was still stewing on yesterday’s events. Stands? He didn’t get it. He did a little bit of research this morning before school (on incognito mode, of course), and found a few old online forums confirming Mr. Zeppeli’s claims. But nothing with evidence, pictures, or video. Ramblings and online ravings, half of which would probably be attention-seeking or accounts from people who’d been too high or drunk to know what they’d seen. However, the name of “Stands” was one constant. It was quite interesting, seeing people describe these fantastic abilities; a guy that could reverse any wound, an invisible girl, and even some gambler saying he fought a teenager that could stop time.

He’d discovered that there was more to Stands than he initially thought. Different types (he seemed to have what was called a Bound Stand), the diversity of the names of the Stands, and even Stands that evolved. 

Vuoto decided to name his Stand: ｢Coldplay｣ .

As he stood up from his typical seating position - against the wall - and organised his papers in his arms for the day. He began down the bustling hallway. Due to his Stand, Vuoto discovered, people would subconsciously see him, and avoid him when walking towards him. They wouldn’t know that they’re doing it, but they wouldn’t care anyway. He was still getting used to the fact that, barring other Stand users, he would never know human connection. He had gotten Fragi’s phone number, and talking to him helped, but despite this, the cold harsh reality of his own Stand was both daunting and disheartening.

Still stuck in his own head, when he rounded the corner, he neglected to see the facefull of Viale Giovanna he was about to receive.

Viale, the tall and built man that he is, easily knocked over the frail Vuoto. The papers flew everywhere, but…

‘ ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣! ’

The Stand’s arms flew out of Viale at super speed, bringing Vuoto upright, quickly re-organising the still-airborne papers, and placing them back safely in Vuoto’s arms.

“Huh?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal,” Viale apologised, “Didn’t see you there,”

“It’s no problem– hey!” Vuoto exclaimed in surprise, “You can see me!”

“Uhh, yeah, I can. Should I… not?”

In a whisper, Vuoto leaned in close, “I know you’re a Stand user; only Stand users can see me!”

…

“Oh…” Viale scratched his head, “this is awkward…”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So, how did you get your Stand?”

“Oh right, I was stabbed by this one ornate arrow.”

“An arrow?”

“Yeah, it was this weird gold one with a beetle design.”

“Woah.”

“Why are you surprised by this? Is that not how you got your Stand?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey, let's go somewhere quieter, I can barely hear myself think.”

“Sure.”

~~~

Unused Classroom

Master’s Academy

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Tensione

“So,”

“So,”

Viale had obviously mistaken a table for a chair and went and sat on it. Vuoto had taken up the teacher’s seat. After a beat, Vuoto finally declared, “Mr. Zeppeli is a Stand user,”

Viale responded, “Yeah, I suspected that one of the teachers had a Stand,” He thought back to Amicio and how he’d reacted to Viale insinuating that he was working for a teacher, “I fought a guy that was working for him.”

“Fought?”

“Yeah, with my Stand,” To display, he summoned Mr. Blue Sky, its imposing frame taking Vuoto’s breath. He’d never seen anything like it. 

“Wow, so that’s a humanoid Stand…”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, there are apparently many forms Stands can take. For example, my Stand doesn’t have a physical form. It’s called a bound Stand.”

“Huh, interesting,” Viale pondered, dismissing Mr. Blue Sky, “Where’d you get this information from?”

“There’s a bunch of forums online if you dig deep enough–”

DING! DING! DING!

Viale stood up and picked up his book, “Shit, there’s the bell. We’d better get going.”

“Yeah, nice meeting you.”

Just as Viale was about to leave the room, Vuoto almost-yelled, “I’m Vuoto, by the way,”

“Giovanna. Viale Giovanna,”

The two parted ways.

They did not notice the slight shimmer in the air as a thin thread retracted out of the room.

~~~

Master’s Academy

Business Class

Afternoon

It was around three o’clock in the afternoon when an announcement came over the speaker. Viale was in Business class, the teacher rambling on about some manipulative marketing strategy. Little did he know that danger was waiting for him on the other side of the school.

“Gioviale Giovanna to the front office. I repeat, Gioviale Giovanna to the front office.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Misterioso

A cold chill washed over Viale, as a slight panging began in the back of his head. From across the class, Matito, the guy Viale had sat with on his first day, glanced over to him in mild concern. What he saw was someone who knew his fate, and was going to actively try and reject it. He saw it in his eyes.

Viale got up.

Viale walked out the door.

Viale went down the hall.

Viale went down the stairs.

Viale turned right around the corner.

Viale entered the front office.

Viale approached the front desk.

Viale locked eyes with the receptionist.

Viale said, “I’m here from the announcement,”

She responded, “Yes, of course. Let me just call Mr. Zeppeli,”

Viale had expected this. This was it. He had no idea what Zeppeli’s Stand was going to be – he’d forgotten to ask Vuoto if he’d seen the Stand in action. The receptionist was ringing Zeppeli; she was the herald of Death. He considered taking out his phone and calling his father, or even Polnareff, just to say goodbye, in case he lost this ineluctable fight.

But he didn’t. Instead, he counted the seconds.

Zeppeli entered on the twenty-fifth second, bearing a saccharine smile that Viale wouldn’t have trusted even if he hadn’t bumped into Vuoto and discovered the truth.

“Viale,” The teacher placed his hand on his shoulder, and Viale held the slight urge to bristle at the contact. “How are you? Doing alright?”

“Fine. Doing fine,” he said. Zeppeli nodded at him, still smiling that same fake smile.

“That’s good, that’s good. Do you mind taking a short walk with me? Just to my office.”

And there it was. If he’d had any doubts remaining, those were reduced to dust the moment he heard those words. Viale still had no idea how dangerous this man was – Polnareff had told him that all Stands were dangerous in some way (he’d cited an old lady that had almost killed him in his youth).

“Sure,” Viale said. “Yeah, sure.”

Zeppeli’s smile thinned a little as he gave him another pat on the shoulder. As his hand hovered there, Viale turned his head upwards, looking him in the eyes. Briefly, almost imperceptibly, something flickered in the air about Zeppeli, a flash of blue fire that sent shivers dancing up Viale’s back.

He knew he was in for it.

Zeppeli turned away from him, leading the way towards his office. Viale paused for a second, regathering himself after Zeppeli’s display, then following after him, the first two steps jittery from the nerves and tension.

The receptionist hadn’t reacted to the burst of flame surrounding him, the blue aura that had enwreathed him for but a moment. But why would she have? She couldn’t see, couldn’t know. It must be Stand-related.

This was the Fear of the Unknown.

Polnareff wasn’t around the corner this time.

His hands clenched into fists.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Male [this means ‘bad’ in Italian]

He was going to forge his own blue skies.

~~~

‘Shit shit shit!’

Vuoto was texting Fragi when he heard the announcement that drove him into a minor crisis. No doubt that Viale would be fighting a tough fight soon, and Vuoto could do nothing about it.

Behind him, Sana was seated. She, too, was concerned about Viale’s situation. She noticed that the person in front of her was similarly panicking. 

“Hey, guy,” Sana whispered, trying to not draw the attention of the teacher, “What’s happening to GioGio?”

“H-huh? Rossi?” 

“Shh!”

In a quieter voice, he responded, “Oh, sorry. Who’s GioGio?”

“Giovanna,”

“Oh, okay. I think he’s in trouble,”

“What do you mean?”

“One of the teachers is dangerous,”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I can’t say more,”

He decided to ignore the flurry of questions that followed, and went back to texting his hospitalised friend. 

~~~

“I assume you know why we are here, Gioviale.” God, he hated it when people called him that. It made them sound like his father.

“Yeah,” Viale stood resolute, “because I know you’re a Stand User,”

Zeppeli quirked an eyebrow. “Actually, that’s only one reason. If that were the case, then wouldn’t I have called Mr. Vuoto in, too? I would’ve assumed you know the relationship between our families?”

“What, are we related? Maybe some long-lost uncle?”

“No, no, I’m not a blood relative. But it’s your father’s family that I’m talking about,” Zeppeli rounded his desk and sat down to an open laptop. “Here. Read this .”

As he turned the laptop around, Viale saw his father’s portrait, amongst others he didn’t recognise. It was a family tree. A very weird-looking family tree. Tonnes of branches reaching across the screen. 

“What I want you to see here is…” He pointed to one ‘Joseph Joestar, 1920-2013’. “This man,”

“I’ve never heard about anyone from my father’s side of the family,” Viale declared. “I know that they exist – they have to, but father has never let me meet them.”

“Let me finish.” Zeppeli took a deep breath. “This man, Joseph Joestar, recently died. Before I could get to him.”

“Get to him? Oh, you mean kill him.”

“Correct,” Zeppeli stood up tall from the seat and approached Viale, who was inching closer to the door. “You see, this man drove my great-grand-uncle, Caesar, to death back in 1939, and forgot about the four other brothers and sisters – one of which being my mother – and left them to suffer without an older brother. You, Giovanna, and your family, must pay for his death.”

Without time to process all of this information, the blue glow that had stunned Viale briefly earlier returned in full force. Alongside it, Viale felt something pierce his upper left leg. He cried out in anguish, falling to the floor.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Squadra

“You, Giovanna! You shall pay for your family’s crimes! You shall die at the hands of my Stand, ｢Broken Strings｣! ”

Viale looked up at Zeppeli, just in time for him to disappear into thin air. Viale felt more piercings open up in his body, as Zeppeli’s head appeared floating near the roof. Viale was going to try reason with him, but he figured he was too far gone to listen to reason. ‘I don’t even know my father’s side of the family! I told him that, didn’t I!?’

“My Stand, Broken Strings, allows me to thin my body parts to microscopic levels and elongate them.”

‘Oh, I see,’ Viale thought as he effortlessly sank into the floor from his already compromising position on the smooth-tiled floor.

“You can’t run, Giovanna! I know your Stand’s weakness!”

Zeppeli pierced the floor, inside of which Viale yelped in surprise. 

‘Damaging the surface damages me?’

Without thinking, Viale popped up for a bit of air, instantly feeling the damage Zeppeli had done to the tile he was in. With a newfound vigour, he yelled, “ ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣! ”

Mr. Blue Sky flew out of Viale’s body with a flash, its retro body gunning straight for Zeppeli’s still-floating head.

“Not so fast, Giovanna,” Zeppeli yelled as his head yet again disappeared just before Mr. Blue Sky could land a clean hit, “I can move faster than you’ll ever dream of, and you can’t see me while I’m doing it!”

Viale did not notice the head appearing behind him.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Augustus Zeppeli’s Office

Master’s Academy

Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Esperienza D’oro 

‘Shitshitshitshit–’

Zeppeli had flipped what confidence Viale had in his Stand in a matter of seconds, and he was panicking. ‘I should really practice more…’

Viale lunged at the bookcase propped up against the wall of Zeppeli’s office, gunning to confuse Zeppeli as to where he was hiding. He knew full well that Zeppeli had eyes on him somewhere.

Zeppeli used his ｢Broken Strings｣ to attack Viale, but he persisted, just managing to knick a book that was obscured from Zeppeli’s view. Viale summoned ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ to distract Zeppeli, so Zeppeli began to just go for every book on the shelf to hit Viale’s hiding spot. Acting quickly, Mr. Blue Sky started punching air, Viale hoping to somehow hit Zeppeli’s nigh-intangible form.

While Mr. Blue Sky was keeping what was supposed to be his teacher busy, Viale had a second to think. ‘I don’t care about what happened in the past, I’m being attacked now. I need to figure out where he is.’ Through the corner of his Stand’s eyes, he saw a red switch. ‘The fire alarm!’

Viale instantly ejected himself from the book he was hiding in and sprinted across the room, ignoring the needle-like wounds he was receiving. In a stroke of genius, he overlaid Mr. Blue Sky over himself to use its superior defence when compared to human skin. 

For Viale, the Stand-suit (as he’d later call it) was not enough to prevent Zeppeli from taking advantage of his compromised position. He went for the head. Viale felt something in the air, and dodged last-second, resulting in a rather fashionable ear piercing.

Despite the pain and tinnitus that was settling in, Viale made a last-ditch effort and used Mr. Blue Sky to pull the lever of the saving grace one might call a fire alarm.

“THERE IS A FIRE. THERE IS A FIRE. PLEASE EVACUATE TO THE ERBA OVAL.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he heard footsteps in the corridor. 

“That was a mistake, Giovanna.” Zeppeli had reformed into his regular size and shape. “You’re already bleeding out. If you had just stayed–”

“MORA!”

One clean shot. He had managed to land one clean shot. Zeppeli stumbled back, exiting Mr. Blue Sky’s two metre range.

“So that’s the real power of Mr. Blue Sky… very interesting,” Zeppeli chuckled as he swiftly recovered. “Let’s see how it fares against my full strength.”

He once again disappeared, but Viale knew it was only a matter of time. A matter of time before the firefighters arrived and found a damaged office. Viale also knew that he had to survive in order for this plan to be successful, and he was currently working on that part. So he quickly devised another half-formed plan. It was quite simple.

Mr. Blue Sky reached up to the roof and punched the sprinkler.

~~~

As soon as the fire alarm went off, Vuoto bolted out of the door. Fortunately for Vuoto, he had been to Zeppeli’s office before, and knew exactly where to go. He rounded many corners, weaving between people who had just started to evacuate. In his head, it was just as chaotic. 

‘This is all my fault this is all my fault if I had just kept my mouth shut no one would’ve gotten hurt this is exactly what led to Fragi being stabbed this is all my f– there it is!’

Just as he reached the door, he felt water drop onto his shoulder. “Huh?” was all he could say before he was absolutely soaked. He dismissed the setting water and pressed his ear against the door.

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Il Vento D’oro

“I get how you’re attacking me. You’re so thin that any movement in the air, you can feel. But what happens if, oh I don’t know, a dashingly handsome and debonair gentleman such as myself were to make the air unreadable?” It was, of course, a rhetorical question. The sprinkler, constantly spewing water, reduced the volume Zeppeli had to work with when shrunk. To top that off, he’d have to read where the water was in order to dodge, as if he was hit when unprepared and thinned, that small droplet could sever his body. By the time Zeppeli had figured this out, Viale had regained his confidence, “It means you’ll have to see me to attack me.”

“Damn you, Joestar!” Zeppeli roared, “you’re going to have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Behold: the Ripple!”

Zeppeli breathed in deep, suddenly glowing golden with power. From where Viale was standing, it looked as if the water droplets that were spewing out of the sprinkler were freezing midair, but Viale noticed a slight electrical shimmer that was running through them.

‘Uh oh.’

As this string of water became more defined and lengthened, Viale saw that it was actually Zeppeli’s thinned body running through the water. It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there. Summoning Mr. Blue Sky yet again, Viale attempted to punch the frozen-in-mid-air water, only to find that it was as tough as steel.

“This, young Giovanna, is the power of the Ripple!” yelled Zeppeli as he swung his new water whip at Viale. It wrapped around his neck, choking him out. He tried to summon Mr. Blue Sky, but it appeared with half-opacity, and noticeably more sluggish than usual. He noticed Zeppeli’s forearm thinning and knew that an attack was coming. He threw his hands up just in time to block. “Zoom Punch: Broken Strings!”

The force of the new-and-improved ancestral Zeppeli move hit Viale’s arms so hard it broke the water whips apart around his neck. After he caught his breath, Viale noticed that Zeppeli was almost done preparing another water whip. Viale yelped and dove into the floor, leaving Mr. Blue Sky to attempt to fend off the crazed teacher.

The Stand unsuccessfully ducked and weaved, sustaining numerous wounds that reflected on Viale. ‘Shit! With that whip of his, he won’t be damaged even if I break them again! And that Zoom Punch was nuts!’

There was another problem: Viale couldn’t breathe whilst inside a surface. He was already winded from the minor choking he’d sustained, so he knew he couldn’t stay hidden for long. Viale brought Mr. Blue Sky into the floor with him, and pushed its hand out just where Viale could feel Zeppeli’s weight pressing into the ceramic. Mr. Blue Sky’s hand latched onto Zeppeli’s ankle, tripping him over, and allowing Viale to pop up for a second and catch his breath. 

Zeppeli, finding the Stand a mere nuisance, simply thinned his ankle, shifting onto his left. “There’s no use, Viale, come face me. What, are you too chicken ?” he said after returning his right ankle.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Il Vento D’oro, but the good part

Now, Viale fancied himself a reasonable man. Sure, he got into a fight here and there, but they usually deserved it. And he wasn’t typically one to start them. That is, unless someone called him “chicken”. He didn’t know why that got to him, no one knew. What they did know, however, is that you shall never, ever , call Gioviale Giovanna a chicken.

Zeppeli, unfortunately, didn’t know this. It is again unfortunate that he did not see nor hear Mr. Blue Sky rise up from behind him and crack its knuckles. In the artificial rain, he was too focused on Viale rising up in front of him, cracking his knuckles in sync with his Stand.

“Really?” Zeppeli deadpanned, “ That’s what gets you?”

“What. Did you call me?” 

“What are you, Marty McFly?”

“What. Did you call me?”

“Chic–”

He was cut off by a knock to the back of the skull. No tricks, no plans. Just punches.

Viale inhaled, Stand aura flaring up a golden yellow.

“MORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORA–”

Mr. Blue Sky punched and punched and threw in a few kicks here and there for good measure. Viale had never done anything like this. Amicio’s fight was ended through creative use of his Stand’s ability, but not this one. This one was barbaric, merciless, and downright vindictive.

“–MORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORAMORA!”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Il Vento D’oro

Mr. Blue Sky grabbed the now bloodied and bruised Zeppeli by the ankle and SLAMMED him into the desk, smashing it in half. He wasn’t going to wake up for a while.

“ Nobody calls me chicken .”

~~~

｢Broken Strings｣

Stats:

Power: D

Speed: A

Range: B

Stamina: C

Precision: A

Potential: A

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - A Fate that Still Remains

Outside, Vuoto was peeking through the door he’d cracked open. He’d wanted to see the fight – sue him. What he saw, however, wasn’t a fight. It was a one-sided beatdown Viale had given Zeppeli. He had to admit: he was now more scared of Viale than Zeppeli. ‘Then again,’ he thought to himself, ‘I never really knew what his Stand could do. It could be weak for all I know.’

Vuoto decided to make himself known. “Hey Viale, are you good in there?”

Viale snapped his head around, but when he saw it was only Vuoto, he relaxed. “Oh, hi Vuoto,” he said, “I’ve just finished taking care of our problem, here.” Viale gestured to the unconscious teacher on the floor, surrounded by the remains of the shattered desk. 

“Uh yeah, I saw that.”

“Damn,” he sighed, dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Vuoto noticed that all over Viale was bleeding from his legs and arms, which had miniscule puncture wounds littered throughout, and his neck was bruised, as if something had choked him out. 

“Everyone’s evacuating, so we should probably get out.”

“Yeah, hey, can you help me move Sir Rage-A-Lot here?”

Vuoto nodded and approached him. Just after Vuoto grabbed Zeppeli’s wrist, Viale heard something with Mr. Blue Sky’s microphone-like hearing. Fast footsteps.

“Shit–!”

“Hey, Giovanna!” It was a classmate. “Everyone’s evacuating– woah, what happened here?”

Viale staggered up. “I’m wondering the same thing.” he looked back silently to Vuoto, who had frozen like a deer in headlights. ‘He can’t see Vuoto or Zeppeli. Is this an extension of Vuoto’s Stand?’

“Looks like a fight broke out…” He put his hand on his chin. “Are you alright, by the way? Let's get outta here.”

Viale spared Vuoto one last glance before agreeing and limping off with the classmate.

Vuoto would be stuck here until the firefighters were done searching for the fire that had already burned out.

~~~

Outside, on the oval

“Oh my gosh, Viale, are you alright?” Sana ran up to Viale, who had resorted to being supported by his classmate, who passed him off to Sana. “I heard the announcement. Was it bullies who used the intercom? What did they do to you?”

Viale said thanks to the nice guy who he’d bled all over. Viale’s homeroom teacher noticed him and ticked him off, saying something about not being paid enough for this. Almost everyone in the school – dorms and all – were here lining up to be checked off.

“Uh– yeah, bullies. Don’t worry, I fended them off.” Viale didn’t feel like telling Sana about his deathmatch with her Maths teacher.

“Obviously not very well. Look at you!” She took out her phone (Viale left his phone in his dorm room, as per school rules) and gave him the mirrored camera. His neck was bruised, Viale had already noticed that his arms had bruises on them too from when Zeppeli used that weird extend-o-punch move, blood was running down his neck from when that teacher asked kindly if he could give him an ear piercing, and worst of all…

“Yeah my hair looks like shit, sorry.”

“Ugh, not the time.” She took her phone back. “We should get you to the school nurse to get you cleaned–”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

All of a sudden, silence. Viale looked around, and noticed everyone in the crowd went silent and statue-still, including Sana. Viale took a nervous step back. Seeing that nothing was happening, he got closer to Sana, seeing something glowing in her eye.

“I see you, Giovanna, and I’m coming for you.”

And just like that, as if nothing happened, everyone returned to normal. Sana noticed Viale’s stare, and said “What? Have I got something on my face?”

Viale was still startled, but responded, “No, no, it’s just as pretty as ever.”

~~~

Later that night

Sana had not been impressed, but – god bless her – had still escorted him to the sick bay after everyone was returned inside. He’d fallen asleep in the bed he was given to recover in after explaining to the nurse how the bullies had used the intercom to jump him for some reason.

He woke up groggily and found his phone on the bedside table.

Vuoto

Hey. I got Zeppeli to the hospital. 

Didn’t have to pay as they couldn’t see me. I guess they could hear me over the phone though? 

Anyway apparently he’ll be there a while, maybe a week – Fragi is in the bed next to him, and the nurse was more than willing to tell him about his teacher. 

Oh yeah I brought you your phone from your dorm room. Enjoy.

Viale smiled. Vuoto really was pretty reliable. He looked back at his phone and found another notification.

Father  

Missed calls: (22)

‘Shit.’ The school had probably contacted him about Viale’s acquittal to the nurse’s office. He went to put his phone back down, but hesitated.

Beep beep beep .

…

…

“ Hello? ”

“Hey, dad, it’s me.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Giovanna Household

Naples

Near-Midnight

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

Guido Mista was almost asleep when the phone rang. ‘Goddamnit, what now?’ He had been on the phone all day, and honestly, he just wasn’t up to it. All of the politics and the business and the finances, they were all Giorno’s thing. Yet he was entrusted with the responsibility of it for the day. He understood; it was Giorno’s day off. When people ask “do your villains take the day off?”, the answer, Guido knew, was a resounding “yes.”

“Hello?”

“ Hey, Dad, it’s me. ”

“Uhh, I don’t have a kid.”

…

“OH! Viale! It’s Mista.”

“Oh, Mista, hi. Can you put Dad on?”

“Yeah yeah of course!” He set the phone down next to the receiver by his bed and hastily donned his dressing gown (and airbender hat). After jogging down the hall to the master bedroom, he knocked on the door and poked his head in.

“Giorno?” he whispered, “Giorno, there's a phone call for you.”

He heard a grumble.

“It’s urgent, Giorno.” He heard a louder grumble.

“Gior–”

“Mista, shut up!” Grace yell-whispered from the other side of the bed.

“It’s Viale–”

Giorno shot up, almost as fast as Guido had, and scrambled out of bed. “I’ll take it in the study,” Giorno said as he passed his best friend.

Guido watched Giorno stumble down the corridor. ‘He must’ve hurt his leg getting out of bed…’ he snickered to himself. Guido, once again, set off back to bed. ‘Giorno is such an idiot when it comes to his son. To think that this man single handedly took down an entire mob only to rebuild it more morally sound. I remember when, just before Viale was born, Giorno brutally killed a man for insulting his unborn baby. Although, to be fair, that man was also caught selling drugs to middle-schoolers, so he kinda had it coming.’

Mista put his dressing gown away in his walk-in-robe, doing a double-take on the mirror as he passed it. He was still impressed with how accurate Giorno was with healing his bullet wounds. ‘I swear, bullets are magnetically attracted to me. Hmm, maybe ‘gravitationally’ would be a better way to describe it.’

As he got into bed, he pondered. ‘I wonder what it is that makes Giorno so protective of Viale? After all of these years, Giorno still hasn’t told me what his childhood was like. Yeah, sure, I know he changed his name from Haruno Shiobana because of the legal documents I have to sign for him, but that’s all I know about him from before we met.’ Guido paused, ‘Oh, and of course, he had a dream.’

~~~

On the other side of the house

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Link

“Viale, are you still there?”

“ Yeah, hey Dad. ”

Giorno sat down with a sigh of relief.

“It’s… good to hear from you,” Giorno weakly responded, “I take it you saw my calls?”

“ Hard not to, ” Viale chuckled, “ Did you hear about what happened at school today? ”

“Yeah, there was an evacuation, and you were hurt. Are you alright?”

“ I’m fine, Dad. Just a few bruises. ”

“The email said you were missing an earlobe.”

“ Yeah… and that. ”

…

There was an awkward silence. Giorno understood wanting to keep secrets – he’d done it his whole life, after all – but these were secrets that weren’t meant to be kept.

“What did you name it?”

“ Name what? ”

“Your Stand, of course. You were stabbed by the arrow and you survived, therefore, you gained a Stand.”

“ Uh, its name is ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ . ”

“‘Mr. Blue Sky’, huh. It’s got a colour in its name. Just like mine. What can it do?” Giorno was intrigued, he had to say.

“ I can enter surfaces, like walls and tables. It also punches good. ”

“Interesting. Is Polnareff teaching you how to use it?”

“ No, he isn’t doing much, honestly. Just pestering me to call you. ”

“That sounds like him. Well, when you see him, ask if he can train you. He used to be quite the Stand user, you know, and is still quite knowledgeable on the subject.”

…

“ W - well what’s yours? You do have a Stand, don’t you? ”

“Of course. My Stand’s name is ｢Gold Experience｣ . It can turn any inanimate object into any living thing, excluding humans. It also, as you put it, ‘punches good.’”

“ Mr. Blue Sky probably punches harder. ”

Giorno, despite himself, cracked a small smile from the pettiness Viale was displaying. It was refreshing to hear Gioviale’s snark again, but there was something more pressing that Giorno had to discuss, now that he had confirmed Viale had a Stand.

“Gioviale, I want to tell you something.”

“ Yeah? ”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Approach

Giorno took a shaky breath in. “There exists a gravity between all Stand users – a fate which says that all Stand users are destined to meet each other. Now that you’re a Stand user, you’re most likely going to have some tough battles ahead of you.”

Giorno paused. He really didn’t wish this upon his son, but, much to Giorno’s chagrin, it had to be this way. “But do not fret. From this experience you will have come out a better man. You have, however faded it might be, the Joestar blood within you. I know, because you and I have the same birthmark. I saw it from the moment you were born. I knew at that moment that you, Gioviale Giovanna, were destined for greatness. So I ask you now, what is your resolve?”

The line was silent for a beat. Giorno could faintly hear his son’s battered breath through the receiver. 

“ My resolve? ” Viale asked rhetorically, “ It’s quite simple. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice; I am going to forge my own blue skies. ”

Giorno was satisfied, but Viale continued.

“ But Dad, ” Viale’s breath hitched, “ I’m scared. ”

~~~

The Next Morning

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - A Fate that Still Remains

“I’m telling you, he needs help!”

“Yes, I know he does, Pannacotta, but we are not to intervene.”

This argument had been going on for hours, Giorno’s study being ground zero for the explosion of voices. Fugo was pacing around the room, slightly irritating Giorno. They had been arguing about whether to send someone, be it one of their underlings or even themselves. 

“Giorno, the arrow is missing . Do you know what could happen if it ended up in the wrong hands?”

“ I agree with Fugo ,” Polnareff said from the phone, “ Viale can’t do this alone. He could hardly beat Zeppeli .”

“He told me the story. He made it seem like he was pretty soundly beaten. I have confidence in my son.”

“ You didn’t see his injuries. ”

“Exactly. You’re not getting it. He’s not you! He doesn’t have a dream, he doesn’t have Gold Experience. Think about how much easier it would’ve been for you if you had the influence of the Speedwagon Foundation behind you when overthrowing Diavolo.”

“I’m not budging. He has all the help he needs.” Giorno got up from his chair. “He has Polnareff to teach him, and he’s told me he has at least two friends that are Stand users backing him.”

“ To be fair, Giorno, ” Polnereff piped up, “ They both don’t have any combat ability from what I’ve heard. Both integrated Stands. ”

“Can you send us a write-up on the two?” 

Polnareff grumbled a “ yes .”

“Don’t change the subject. Gioviale is in danger . He’s already been sent to hospital. Who knows how many other Stand users are coming his way.”

“I have considered this,” Giorno responded. “Alright. I think it’s about time I give Signor Higashikata a call.”

“ Call Josuke? Yeah, I guess that could work, although it’d take a while to organise someone to come in .”

“I’ll tell Gioviale that help is on its way.” Giorno pointed at Fugo flamboyantly. “Get Higashikata on the phone.”

~~~

Speedwagon Foundation HQ

Tokyo

Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Get Together 

Josuke looked out across the bay area his building was situated towards. His office was high up, higher than most of the skyscrapers he could see. ‘We’re not in Morioh anymore, are we Crazy Diamond?’ It was weird talking to himself. It had been thirty whole years since that fateful Summer of ‘99. He remembered that time fondly – it was when he felt his life truly started. After the Old Man kicked the bucket, Josuke was not in any position to take over Joestar Realty. It was only after Mr. Christo – the old head of the Speedwagon Foundation – retired that Josuke really put some thought into his life outside of Morioh. He decided then was the time he should look outside his hometown and make something of himself, apart from the mechanics business he started with his friends. After three years of corporate hell, he managed to make it to Head of the Speedwagon Foundation’s Stand Division. After all, he’d left Morioh-Cho in the capable hands of Koichi, Okuyasu, Rohan, and Yukako. 

This was what Josuke was thinking about when his thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. He recognised the number: his somehow-great-uncle from Italy.

He had only met Giorno Giovanna a few times. Once at a family reunion, another on some important business (Stand user bullshit), and finally at Joseph Joestar’s funeral a few years back. He honestly didn’t know what to think of the Italian mafioso. Jotaro had told Josuke that he was trustworthy, but the whole ‘I run the biggest mafia in Italy’ thing didn’t sit right with Josuke. There was also the fact that he was apparently unbeatable in a Stand fight. Josuke didn’t want to find out if it was true or not. 

He picked up the ringing landline.

“This is Higashikata.”

“ Buongiorno, Signor Higashikata. It’s Giorno Giovanna. ”

“Hey, Giorno, how’s the wife?”

“ I’m afraid this isn’t a social call. This is about Gioviale, my son. He’s in a bit of trouble. ”

“Trouble? Really? Noooo.” Okay, he was being a bit sarcastic, but a Joestar being in trouble was just like another Tuesday for him.

“ Yes. And it pains me to say it, but it’s Stand trouble. ”

Josuke wasn’t surprised in the slightest. He knew very little of Giorno Giovanna’s son, but it made sense that he’d be a Stand user like his father.

“Alright, well, what can I do for you?”

“ I’d like you to send him some backup. A Stand user or two. Also an interrogator. He’s recently bested a teacher who stole a Stand Arrow, and we need to know where it is. ”

“You lost your Stand arrow? Jesus, Giorno, we don’t just have those lying around!” Josuke knew how much damage a rogue Stand arrow could do. He now understood the importance of the call. In his mind, Josuke chastised Giorno further, as the Speedwagon Foundation entrusted Giorno with the arrow, should he keep it safe. 

“ I gave it to Gioviale as a parting gift. ”

“Alright, let me see what we got…” Josuke searched his laptop. “...Oh! We’ve just received a new Stand user in our Rome branch that'd be perfect for the job. Where would I be sending her?”

“ Gioviale’s new school, Accademia Magistrale, in Venice. ”

“I know the place. The principal works for us. I’ll let him know of the Hotspot at his school.”

“ Small world, huh? ”

“Right. I can probably get my gal there within the week, if that suits you. I could also send a combat Stand user in within the month. She’s on a mission right now, but I’m sure she’d drop everything for her great-uncle’s son.”

“ That would be great. Thank you, Signor Higashikata. I cannot express my gratitude. I’ll send over a full report of the situation. ”

“Alright, Giorno. Hey, before I let you go, we’re having another family get-together in July, if you’d like to come?”

The line went silent.

“ C-could Gioviale come with me? ” 

‘Holy shit,’ Josuke thought, ‘I’ve never heard Giorno nervous.’

“U-uh, yeah, of course!” Josuke stammered out, “He’s part of the family, after all.”

“ I appreciate it. ”

“Alright, see you later, Giorno.”

He hung up.

“That’s a conversation I’ll be chewing on for a while,” Josuke ruminated aloud.

~~~

Master’s Academy

Venice

Midnight

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Restaurant Bar

Across the world, Viale returned to his dorm room after another night’s stay at the sick bay, albeit only managing to return with the help of Sana. She was a godsend throughout this whole thing. Even Viale’s injuries felt better after being near her, not that he’d tell her that. 

“This is yours, right, GioGio?”

“Yeah, thanks, sweetie.” He had to admit, the nickname was growing on him.

“Yeah, ha ha, keep calling me ‘sweetie’ and losing an ear will be the least of your worries.”

Viale didn’t doubt that for a second, but he was content with pushing his luck. Sana helped him through the doorway. It was a tight fit with both of them shoulder-to-shoulder, but they managed to squeeze through. 

“Don’t take it personally. I’m like this to everyone.”

“I don’t see you calling Amicio that.”

“That’s because he tried to kill me.” Viale murmured underneath his breath.

“That makes sense.” She paused. “He tried to WHAT?”

“Uh, you weren’t meant to hear that.”

Viale plopped onto his bed, the other one across the room still vacated. 

“ That’s why he’s sleeping in my room.”

“What?”

“We’re family friends. He’s been sleeping on the couch.”

“I told him to switch rooms , not to crash yours .”

“Well, it’s late, and I gotta get back to my room before curfew.” She put a hand on Viale’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, and don’t get jumped by bullies again.”

“I’ll make sure not to.”

She rolled her eyes and left the room, Viale’s eyes still staring at where she had once been with a dumb smile on his face. He snapped out of it, though, when he realised his wounds had healed more than he thought. In fact, they were almost faded. He reached for his missing  earlobe and found it almost completely restored. ‘Huh. I thought that was torn off…’

Coco Jumbo crawled out from under the bed, Polnareff and his chef-hat-like hair popped out with her. “That was awkward. Now if you would, Coco hasn't had food in a day.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Mr. President
Master’s Academy
Morning

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Day job

“Come on, Viale, this stuff’s easy!”

“Yeah I agree, easy… for you to say, harder for me to lift!”

“Oh please, if I still had ｢Silver Chariot｣ , I’d be wiping the floor with you right now.”

“Yeah, because you have forty years on me!”

As it turned out, ｢Mr. President｣ could create rooms to suit the needs of the user. The gang didn’t know this before, as the user was a tortoise, but now that the Stand was shared between two people – one being a human with needs – this aspect of the Stand had been discovered. In this case, it produced a training room, designed specifically for determining a Stand’s capabilities. 

“So, three-hundred kilograms is your limit… Huh. Jotaro’s was similar… Unfortunately, you couldn’t hold it as long.” Polnareff took out his clipboard and checked a box. “That’s an ‘A’ in Power and a ‘B’ in Stamina, then.”

｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ dropped the weights, Viale stretching his now-sore arms. “Cool, can I leave?”

“Ha! In your dreams! We’ve still got like, four more stats to figure out!”

“Who made this whole thing, anyway?”

“Me and a couple of old pals came up with this ‘Stand Stat’ system. We’ve found it to be pretty consistent with humanoid Stands, but it gets pretty funky when it comes to out-of-the-box Stands, and when considering abilities.”

Polnareff thought back to that time under the stars after arriving in Egypt. Kakyoin had come up with the idea, Jotaro (who all other Stands were ranked against) had done the tests, and Joseph had fleshed out the system. They’d come up with five stats: Power, Speed, Range, Stamina and Precision. Potential came later. With the baseline of ｢Star Platinum｣ , the list was quite comprehensive; it even accounted for abilities that compensated for a physically weak Stand. 

From what he had heard, Old Man Joseph and his son Josuke had spread the system around those old Stand forums, and it’d caught on. When Polnareff had met Giorno and the gang, they were already using it.

“Hey Viale, do you know how we test Speed and Precision?” From behind his back, Polnareff revealed… 

“What the–” 

…a tommy gun.

RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA!

Viale was caught by surprise, but Polnareff had fortuitously aimed just to the side of him so he wouldn’t get hit. Not that it mattered, as Mr. Blue Sky had aptly caught and dropped all of the bullets Polnareff fired.

“HAHAHA! You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Polnareff wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah, geez, that never gets old!” He put the firearm down on the table to his right. 

Mr. Joestar had come up with that one. Inspired by both a “badass vampire fight” in his youth and Star Platinum catching a bullet Jotaro shot at himself before he and Polnareff had met. 

“Hehe, looks like an ‘A’ in Speed and Precision, too!” he giggled.

“Polnareff, please, is that the last test?” Viale was still catching his breath. He made a mental note to put laxatives in Coco Jumbo’s food later.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, since we can’t really test Potential until I see more of Mr. Blue Sky.” Polnareff turned the page. “Alright, Viale, let’s see that ability of yours.”

Mr. President’s floor suddenly glowed with a bright light, instruments that weren’t being used anymore dissipating into the Stand. In its place, a jungle gym. 

“I want to see the full capabilities of your Stand.”

“Ugh, fine.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Approach

Viale reluctantly approached the monkey bars, put his hand on the nearest pole, and was sucked inside.

“Interesting…” Polnareff wrote himself a note as Viale exited the pole. “It looks like you were sucked in there. Is there momentum to the action?”

“I can decide whether or not I want to be sucked into the surface.”

Polnareff nodded. Next to Viale, a spot on the ceiling glowed and produced a sandbag with an electronic display appearing underneath.

“Try to kick this whilst entering the monkey bars.”

Viale shrugged and took a few steps back. With a runup, Viale grazed the pole and stuck his leg out. With a large thud, the sandbag was knocked back, and Viale was gone. The digital display on the ground showed a ‘1494N’.

“Wow. One-thousand-four-hundred-and-ninety-four newtons. If we take into account how much the average male leg weighs, which I know off the top of my head, you entered the surface at…” he paused to calculate, “eighty-three metres per second.”

Viale popped his head out of the bar. “Is that fast?”

“Well, seeing as Star Platinum’s fastest punch was twenty metres per second, yeah I’d say that was pretty fast. That’s definitely an ‘A’.”

Viale smirked.

~~~

“Hey Viale?”

Training had just ended, and Viale was now getting ready for school.

“Yo?”

“With Mr. Blue Sky, can you put bigger objects inside smaller objects? Not just yourself, I mean.”

Viale considered the question. He knew he had brought things like his clothes inside smaller things like books as they were considered part of his ‘person’, but he had never thought of trying this new idea.

“I don’t know… why do you ask?”

“Well,” Polnareff adjusted his position resting on the gem inside the key, “What if you got, oh I don’t know, a 10-sided-die? And put a bunch of things inside it?”

Viale felt dumb. 

“It’s just a thought. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, but the principal wants to see you. He’ll call you in at some point today.”

Viale nodded, threw his bag over his shoulder, and left the room.

~~~

Master’s Academy
Venice
Midday

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

As per usual, Vuoto was stuck inside his own head. This time, he was thinking about something pressing. Something that didn’t make sense. It had been on his mind for a few days – since the day Viale fought Zeppeli. The answer, really, was quite simple, but the reasoning behind it was a riddle.

It was to do with one Sana Rossi. She had seen and talked to Vuoto in class. At the time Vuoto had been stuck in his own head, thinking about Viale and his precarious situation. The answer as to ‘how’ was easy: Sana was a Stand user. But the real question was ‘how?’

‘Actually,’ Vuoto thought, ‘That’s an easy answer, too. She was obviously in contact with the Stand Arrow at some point.’

But that brought up some concerning questions, pointedly, if she was really trustworthy. ‘For all I know she could’ve had the Arrow this whole time.’

Vuoto was brought out of his head by the school bell ringing.

As he made his way to class, he bumped into someone. Because of the paranoid thinking, Vuoto instantly sprung back, as people were meant to just walk around him. The person he bumped into had to be a Stand user!

The person in question was a relatively short guy, with thin, black hair, and a matching leather jacket which looked a size too big. All of this was offset by a simple yellow A4 spiral notebook that the boy had dropped. When Vuoto went to pick it up, he saw the words ‘Property of: My Ass’ on the front cover.

“Give that back.”

Vuoto looked up to see that the boy wound up to uppercut him. Vuoto yelped and dodged back, the fist missed him, and the notebook fell back to the ground.

“What the hell!?” Vuoto yelled, “What’s your problem?”

The boy picked up the book. “This is my book.”

“I thought it was My Ass’ book.”

“Alright, I didn't write that.”

“Look, man, I know you’re a Stand user. Just back off and we don’t have to fight.”

The boy opened the notebook and had a quick read.

“Wow, your Stand sucks! No one but Stand users can see or perceive you? Man, what a bummer. How are you gonna get bitches if none of them can see you?”

Vuoto was dumbstruck. How did he know that?

“My name is Matito Romano, and this is my Stand ｢Take On Me｣ !” Romano struck a pose, one hand covering an eye, the other one ominously holding the book that, when Vuoto looked closer, had a slight grey Stand-aura surrounding it.

The hallway was empty now – everyone had gone to class. That is, everyone but the two Stand users in a face-off, and Sana Rossi peeking around a corner, trying to figure out what was going on.

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Seeker

‘What does he mean, no one should be able to see Vuoto? I can see him just fine!’ Sana thought.

“Hello, Ms Rossi, wanna come have a chat?” Romano called out. Sana let out a little squeak, surprised she was discovered so easily. She stepped out from her hiding place. 

‘From where the guy’s standing, he shouldn’t have even been able to see me! What gives?’

“I’ll tell you what gives, Ms Rossi. My Stand, Take On Me, absorbs all data around me in a twenty-five metre radius and writes it all out in this book. That includes reading minds.” To display, he flipped through some pages, not that Sana could read it from how far away she was. “And to answer your question about Vuoto, you can see him because you have the same power we do: a Stand.” 

“I knew it!” Vuoto exclaimed. She and Matito paid him no mind.

“Well, this little confrontation has been very informative. I’m sure Vuoto can explain what a Stand is.” Romano began down the hall, confidently walking past Sana. “Just remember, with my Stand, I can know all of your secrets. Don’t test me, and I won’t ruin you.”

He left. 

“Rossi, come by Viale’s room after school. I’ll explain there, and hopefully, he will too.”

Sana nodded, and set off to a class she definitely did not pay attention to.

~~~

Principal’s Office
Master’s Academy
Lunchtime

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - A Fate that Still Remains

Viale sat on the stool opposite the Principal’s desk. The last time he’d been in here was a couple weeks ago, when he transferred in. Despite having weeks to comprehend, Viale still couldn’t understand why this person had so many movie posters of such second-rate movies. 

He remembered that he’d gotten a text in class, but Viale, fancying himself a good student, hadn’t checked it at the time.

Vuoto

Hey, I forgot to tell you, but I remembered something about my Stand.

I talked to the principal when I had ｢Coldplay｣ .

He’s probably a Stand user. And so is Sana, but she doesn’t know what her Stand does. I promised her that we’d explain it in your dorm after school.

Just a heads up.

Also Sana and I found another Stand user. I’ll tell you later.

Viale wasn’t allowed to process this, as his reading was cut off by someone clearing their throat. When Viale wasn’t looking, the principal had somehow entered the room and sat down.

“O-oh, sorry.” Viale put his phone in his pocket. He was slightly wary; Vuoto wasn’t one to lie, so he fully believed the contention that the principal was a Stand user. The principal must’ve noticed the hesitation in Viale’s eyes. That wasn’t in-character for the young Giovanna.

“Hello, Mr Giovanna. You look healthy. Before we begin, it is my understanding that you know I have a Stand.” Esposito leaned forward, leaning on his intertwined hands. “But you don’t, however, know a lot about me and my background. I am, first and foremost, principal of this establishment. It is my goal to pull this school up, as it and its staff and students deserve. I am also an agent of the Speedwagon Foundation. That means you, being a Joestar, are my second priority.”

He leaned back and stood up from his chair, and turned to look out the window. Viale was silent throughout this exchange. 

“I am also Augustus Zeppeli’s uncle.” Viale’s eyes widened. “Now, before you go all beatdown on me, understand that I do not agree with his ideals. I know for a fact that your cousin, Joseph Joestar, killed our ancestor. In any case,” he waved a hand, “your family has already done plenty for the world; they don’t always get it right. Augustus did not know this. I am only privy to the information I have because of my role as a S.P.W. Agent. Despite what you may think, he is a good person. His heart was in the right place, but his anger clouded his judgement. Therefore I take blame for his foolish actions. Please forgive me.”

He did not expect an answer, but Viale nodded anyway. Esposito continued.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get down to brass tax.” He returned to his seat. “As I told you before, and I don’t know if you have had any interaction with the Speedwagon Foundation, but it is my duty to aid any Joestars that ask for it. As the principal, I can cover up any, hmm, ‘justice-seeking’’, that you may perform in order to keep this school safe, should you ask me to.”

Viale was shocked. Not only at the news that his school principal was an international spy, but that his teacher that he’d just recently beaten up was completely unfounded in attacking him. Viale realised that Esposito was still waiting for an answer.

“R-right, uh, well I know of…” he counted with his fingers, “eight – including you and I – Stand users in the school. I don’t know if we should, like, compare notes, or…” Viale trailed off. This was an unprecedented conversation. “You know what? Yes. I’d appreciate your help.”

“Excellent.” To Viale, the sickly principal didn’t seem like much of a fighter, but he knew that one should not judge a book by its cover, unless the cover was League of Legends . “I’ll give you my phone number, should any unforeseen complications come your way.”

~~~

Viale’s Dorm Room
Master’s Academy
Late-Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Get Together 

When Viale opened the door, he had not expected Vuoto at his desk doing homework, and Sana playing with her phone on his ex-roommate’s bed. They both startled at the door opening, Sana scurrying off the bed. 

“I see you’ve made yourselves comfortable.” He put his messenger bag down next to the door. “How did you even get in here?”

Sana stammered, “U-uh, Amicio gave me his key.” She looked down, embarrassed. “Sorry, GioGio.”

‘While if it wasn’t for his incompetence, I just might be dead, it sure is annoying when Amicio’s not useful.’

“It’s alright, but you just ask if you want to stay over.” 

Viale’s shit-eating grin was quickly dissuaded when Vuoto reminded him why the two were here in the first place. “Sana deserves an explanation of Stands, Viale.”

“Finally, something interesting is happening.” Polnareff yawned from the tortoise shell that had somehow got on top of the dresser.

“Oh yeah,” Sana recovered from her embarrassment, and offhandedly gestured to Coco Jumbo. “We met your uncle. Is your whole family like that?”

“In a tortoise?”

“It’s a turtle.” 

“I’m pretty sure turtles are sea creatures–”

“This isn’t why we’re here, Viale!” Vuoto interrupted Sana and Viale’s bickering. “Stay on topic.”

“Right.” He reached up to Coco Jumbo and placed her softly on the ground next to his feet. He then turned to his two friends, and deadpanned, “Get in the tortoise.”

Legend says that only Viale would ever be able to say that with a straight face.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Viale’s Dorm Room
Master’s Academy
Weekend

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

Josuke Higash-I-Can’t-Spell-His-Name

Hey Gioviale 

Or do u go by Viale? I’ve heard differing opinions…

Anyway the Foundation has sent thru a Stand user to help you with ur Zeppeli situation

Good luck

Viale chuckled. A forty-year-old texting like that was a sight to behold. Even Vuoto, Viale knew, used proper grammar when texting. ‘Wait, isn’t this guy Japanese? His Italian is pretty good…’

Viale had decided to stay back with Sana after Vuoto left so they could use ｢Mr. President｣ to try and draw out her Stand. Viale (and Polnareff) attempted to explain what summoning a Stand was like, but Sana, for whatever reason, couldn’t reproduce the effect. “It’s like riding a bike,” Polnareff had explained, “if you’ve done it once, you can do it forever.” This was ironic, Viale thought, because Polnareff no longer had access to his Stand, ｢Silver Chariot｣ .

They ended up resorting to explaining the origins of Stands. Seeing Sana’s Stand would have to wait for another day. 

The topic of Viale’s family came up with Polnareff after Sana turned in for the night. For some reason Polnareff had the same family tree Zeppeli had shown Viale before their fight, which helped explain that Josuke was Viale’s ‘First Cousin, once removed’. Viale honestly had no idea how the convoluted Cousin system worked, and he didn’t want to think about it any more.

His thoughts wandered back to Sana Rossi. It was all but visually confirmed that she had one. It intrigued Viale. It also gave Viale an idea, involving Vuoto and his Stand ｢Coldplay｣ . Vuoto could, in theory, go around the school screaming like a madman and see who reacted. This would, theoretically, result in Stand users responding. But when Viale had pitched the idea last night, Vuoto practically died from embarrassment, refusing to ever do anything of the sort.

Viale was brought out of his head by a knock on his door. He got up and cautiously walked over. 

“Mr. Giovanna, please open the door.” 

Viale recognised the voice. It was the Principal. With his concerns dissuaded, Viale opened the door.

“Hello, sir. What brings you to my humble abode on this fine morning?”

Esposito narrowed his eyes as he closed the door behind himself. “Just because we’re working together, doesn’t mean I’m not still your Principal.”

“Right, sorry.”

The Principal cleared his throat. “I believe you’ve been made aware of the fact that a S.P.W. Stand user has taken residence in Hotel Montalvo just down the road?” Viale shrugged. “Well, this Stand user is not combat-oriented, and requires a bodyguard to proceed safely in this investigation. I am disappointed to report that when I visited my nephew in hospital last night, he was unwilling to disclose any information. In fact, he was only comfortable with small talk.”

Viale was concerned. “If he doesn’t talk to you, I don’t know what this whole thing with sourcing a Stand user will result in…”

“I assure you,” Esposito put his hand on Viale’s shoulder, “this Stand user can, and will, get you the results you desire.”

~~~

Giovanna Household
Naples
Midday

Datore Esposito

Good afternoon, Signor Giovanna. I’d like to inform you that your son is meeting with the Speedwagon Foundation Investigator Stand user today. Together they will, hopefully, be able to coerce the desired information out of Mr. Zeppeli.

Giorno had a bad feeling about this. He of all people knew that being a Stand user attracted all kinds of attention, and not always from the best source. However, he also understood that what his son was embarking on was eerily similar to the journey he had begun with Buccelatti all those years ago.

Giorno hoped, for his son’s sake, that whatever was lying around the corner, Gioviale was prepared to handle it.

“ GioGio! Mista wants you! ”

“Thank you, Number Five.”

~~~

Outside Montalvo
Venice

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Secret Manoeuvre

“Alright. I think this is the place.”

“I don’t see any other Hotel Montalvo ’s around here, so yeah, I’d say so too.”

“Don’t make me regret coming here with you, GioGio.”

Viale had called on Sana to help him to the hotel. While sure, he knew there was a hotel near the school – he had passed by it a few times when going into town – he still wasn’t accustomed to the area. Sana, however, was a local, so she knew what was going on. Also, with the Stand user apparently having gone through training, perhaps she could help out Sana with her situation.

“Alright, alright, calm ya farm. Let’s get this over with.”

As they crossed the street, Viale and Sana noticed two figures standing outside the building. They looked as if they were in a barbershop quartet, but with only two members. Their vests were inverse of the other; one was wearing a blue undershirt with a red-and-white striped vest, while the other had a red undershirt with a blue-and-white striped vest. The pair each donned an accompanying barbershop hat, with the ribbon on the base correlating to the colour of the stripes they both wore.

‘They look ridiculous.’

As Sana and Viale approached the wardrobe dysfunction, the pair seemed to notice their presence. 

“Hey, Checker, look! He’s here!” one said.

“Alright, alright, you know your lines?” the other responded.

“Yeah.” They both cleared their throats. “ Erherm. ”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Team Rocket

“Prepare for trouble!”

“And make it double!”

“To protect the world from devastation!”

“To unite the people within our nation!”

“To denounce the evils of truth and love!”

“To extend our reach to the stars above!”

“Chubby!”

“Checker!”

“Team Hucklebuck dances off at the speed of light!”

“Surrender now or prepare to fight!”

…

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Travellers Who Rest

Viale was nonplussed. “Did you two… seriously just copy the Team Rocket Motto and replace certain phrases to fit you?”

Sana leaned closer to Viale. “Is this how Stand fights usually go?”

“No, but just follow my lead, okay?” Viale told Sana, then turned back to the dastardly duo. “Also, ‘Team Hucklebuck’? What does that even mean? Just saying ‘Team Rocket’ would’ve flowed better, even if you aren’t Team Rocket,” Viale commented.

Sana spoke up to the ridiculous pair, following Viale’s advice. “Between the two of you, you couldn’t come up with an original rhyme?” 

Chubby and Checker looked at each other, then back. There was a pause, before Chubby (the one with the red undershirt and ribbon) announced, “We know what you’re here for, and we have orders to–”

“You two have single handedly destroyed the sanctity of the Indigo League .”

“Enough!” Checker stepped forward, exasperated. “You know we’re gonna kill you both, right?”

“Is that so?” Viale questioned as he brought out ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ , who menacingly cracked his knuckles. 

“Oh, no, not like that. Both of our Stands are non-combat. Let me ask you, have you ever seen Monsters Inc. ?”

‘No.’ Sana thought, then replied aloud, “Of course.”

Checker’s grin expanded further. “Well then you’re in for a treat.”

With their speech done, they looked between each other, and bolted through the revolving doors of the hotel.

…

“That was awkward.”

“Let’s just… go after the bad guys.”

Before Sana could move, Viale grasped her hand with a worried look in his eyes. 

“Listen, Sana, we’re likely heading right into a trap. If you want to opt out now, I won’t blame you. This is going to be dangerous.”

Sana turned her head. Wearily, shakily, she responded, “No. I-I’m going with you.”

Viale let go of her hand. “Right. If that’s the case, just stay behind me, mmkay?” 

Sana shrugged. They proceeded inside.

~~~

“Those two were so rude!” Chubby complained.

“I know, bro. It’s not fair.”

“I mean, Ash and the gang never interrupted Team Rocket! Why do they get to?”

“Well, Team Rocket never had an intent to kill.”

He paused. “Alright, that's fair. But still!”

“Chubby, let’s just use our Stand abilities now; we’re running out of time.”

“Alright, Checker.”

“｢Funkytown｣!”

“｢All Star｣!”

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Evolution

Viale and Sana had made their way inside. The clerk, who had been told a guest was expecting people and directed them to the elevator. Neither Viale nor Sana were expecting to call the elevator, only to have the door open on an old lady showering. 

Steam emanated from the shower, pouring out into the lobby. Sana shrieked, and Viale hastily averted his eyes.

“Sorryysorrysorrysorrysorry…” 

“What’s going on here?” The receptionist had left the front desk and approached the commotion just as the elevator door closed.

“You have to leave.” Viale was still shaken, but the conviction in his voice reached the lady. Viale turned to Sana as the lady walked off, shakily smiling. “You sure you don’t want to back out?”

“Let’s… try the other doors.”

Sana approached the utility closet, but before she could open it, the door swung open by itself and slammed hard into Sana’s outstretched arm.

Viale was busy calling the second elevator when he heard Sana’s wail. He rushed over.

“What happened, are you okay?”

Sana frowned at him, waving her arm around to stimulate blood flow. “Does it look like I’m fine?! No, one of them can obviously open the doors at will.”

Viale pondered, “So one can make doors lead to different places, and the other can control the hinges? That’s a combination for sure. Not sure if it’s a deadly one.”

He was standing too close to the same door Sana was just hit by, and proceeded to receive a plank of wood to the face.

~~~

“He just said we weren’t deadly!”

“That son of a bitch.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Can I help?”

“Erm… sorry, bro, but your work is already done.”

“Rude.”

~~~

Sana and Viale were hiding behind the corner near the elevators. Viale had blood dripping down his face, and an assumedly broken nose to boot. Sana checked it out – she had done the school first aid training that all Eleventh Grade students had to do a few weeks back. Viale had opted to skip it. 

“It looks like it’ll heal.” Sana finished. “I can’t believe I’m the one telling you to be careful.”

“Well I can’t believe you’re sticking with me.”

“I’d be kicking myself if I let you get hurt all by yourself.”

“You’re a good person.” Sana looked up from checking her arm and wrist for possible dislocations. Viale elaborated. “You didn’t have to come here. You persist even when there are people in the building trying to kill us.”

“GioGio,” Sana interrupted, “You’re misunderstanding. I came for selfish reasons. It was obviously going to be a trap from the beginning, and I wanted a chance to unlock my Stand.”

“That’s not selfish,” Viale declared, “Nothing’s selfish about wanting the best for yourself.”

Sana had to admit, she was impressed by Viale’s bluntness. He didn’t hesitate to tell people what he thought of them. Her thoughts were cut off by Viale springing up from his seating position.

“Let’s go, then.” Viale began walking towards the utility closet that had slammed him in the face minutes ago.

“Where are you going?”

“To beat the shit outta some twins.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Viale slyly glanced back. “I got a few.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Overdrive

~~~

｢Funkytown｣

Long-Ranged Stand

Stats:

Power: ∅

Speed: A
Range: ※

Stamina: B

Precision: ※

Potential: ※

(※: depends on location)

~~~

Chubby was bored. His Stand, Funkytown, was honestly pretty bad. The Stand’s only ability was to shuffle a building’s entrances and exits once every thirty minutes. He couldn’t even do it quickly in sequence. Once he activated his Stand, he had a huge cooldown until he could actually do anything.

At least the Stand’s appearance was cool. It looked like a haunted mansion crossed with a chest of drawers. A big block of purple, spikey wood, with technicolour doors that moved around every time Chubby activated his ability. It could also take quite a beating.

Right now, he was sitting on a couch in a suite he and his brother had commandeered from the hotel. His brother was looking out the window, patiently waiting for–

Checker smirked. “They’re coming back to the utility door.”

Chubby sat up. “You ready to slam?”

“You bet.”

Checker summoned his Stand. A big outhouse door, shoddily made, with a similar colour scheme to the outline of Chubby’s Stand; a purple, spiky wood, that looked as if it was reserved for Halloween. There was a cutout of a moon in the top-middle section of the Stand. Its name was All Star.

All Star worked well with Funkytown. It could control every door in a building. Lock, unlock, open, close. It could do it all. Checker’s favourite use of his Stand was opening doors magically for dramatic entrances with his brother. The boss never really cared for the Hucklebucks’ antics, but his distancing never had any effect on the brothers. 

The Hucklebucks were, despite appearances, relatively high-ranking in the gang. They had earned the respect of many in the gang, through Chubby’s tricky tactics, or Checker’s brute force. They had killed, interrogated, and tortured many, but never directly enough to pin the blame on them. If goody-two-shoes politicians pointed their fingers at the Hucklebucks, they’d find themselves being thrown down a flight of stairs, then being slammed with a door.

“What?” Checker’s eyes went wide. “Where’d he go? The girl’s still there, but Giovanna’s vanished!”

“Well, start swingin’!”

~~~

As Viale approached the dastardly door, he had already enacted his plan. He knew that the twins knew when he was approaching the door, so he only needed to get close.

“Sana. Get ready.”

“For what?” She was standing a fair few paces back, with her heart rate steadily increasing.

“Watch.”

He stepped within range of the door, and predictably, it swung open. In a flash, Viale had whipped his right foot back, and pivoted so his left hand touched the backside of the door, and–

He vanished, entering the back surface of the door.

The door closed, begrudgingly accepting defeat. Seeing as Sana’s sight was obscured by the door, she could not see that Viale had slinked into the room behind the door, and used Mr. Blue Sky to unhook the hinges from the door frame.

SLAM!

The door came off its hinges, fell forward into the lobby, and revealed Viale standing in the utility closet. Mr. Blue Sky was standing behind him, holding numerous screws in his palm. 

“That,” he glanced up to Sana, who was standing there dumbstruck, “was my plan.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Hotel Montalvo
Venice

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

“M-m-my finger! Chubby’s eyes were glued to his hand, which recently had a finger fall off.

“What the hecky?”

“MY FINGER!” he screamed. His eyes moved to the thumb on the floor, which is not where a thumb should typically be. “WHAT THE FRICK?!”

“That son of a bitch.”

“HE UNHINGED THE FUCKING DOOR!”

“Maybe you two should… give up?”

The two’s heads whipped around to the new voice. Checker said, “Right. I totally forgot she was here.”

“You’re telling the truth.”

If the twins were to make an educated guess, she was aged around twenty to twenty-three. Her raven hair was tied back into a neat ponytail, her small stature currently bound to a chair. She was dressed in what one would expect an investigator to be dressed in. Brown trench coat, black undershirt and matching chinos. If they were honest, she looked like she was trying too hard to fit in with the ‘noir’ aesthetic.

“Listen here, little lady,” Chubby said, still in agony, “You-” He pointed at her face, “-are bait. So why don’t you-” He pointed in her face again. She stayed nonchalant, unimpressed. “-stay quiet.”

Chubby and the woman held the stare for what felt like only seconds, because it was.

“Where are they, Checker?” He broke eye contact and turned to his brother, who was watching the confrontation. “I’m done playing around. We need to bring in some backup.”

“Yeah, I agree. Giovana is giving us a run for our money.”

“My ears are burning.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stand Activated

Chubby and Checker startled at the other new voice that had somehow entered the room.

“Who’s there?” Checker yelled.

Chubby hesitantly stepped forward to the source of the sound: the balcony. As he proceeded, he didn’t see anyone. He exited the doors and went onto the balcony. Looking around, still no one. He peered over the edge.

“Here’s a tip,” Chubby’s eyes widened as he realised the voice was coming from above him, “When in a fight, don’t go near ledges.”

Before Chubby could turn around, ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ appeared and pushed Chubby over the edge of the eleven-storey building. Acting quickly, Mr. Blue Sky grabbed the man’s vest and shoved it into the brickwork on the side of the hotel, securing the man in place as the vest half-entered the structure.

Viale dropped down from the surface of the roof that held the balcony from the room above. “I wouldn’t move much, if I were you. You don’t want to rip that expensive vest, right?”

Checker raced out the room. “You!”

“Me.”

“What did you do with my brother?” Checker heard screaming from the side of the building. He gasped, “You bastard! How did you get up here?”

Viale chuckled. “I can’t move when I’m inside a surface, so I climbed up the bricks, putting my hand into each surface.” He rolled his shoulders. “That’s definitely my cardio goal for the week, though.”

“You-” Checker rushed forward to help his brother, and Viale sank into the floor, a hand reaching up to grab Checker’s leg as he passed over him. The man tripped, face hitting the metal railing of the balcony and collapsing on the ground. Mr. Blue Sky popped out of the floor to check–

‘Yep. He’s out cold.’

Viale rose out of the floor, shaking his head slightly at the incompetence of the so-called assassins. 

“Giovanna?” Viale heard from inside the apartment. “Helloooo?”

Viale hastily made his way inside, skidding on the carpeted floor.

“Hey, uh,” He noticed the… bike lock… around the woman. “Who the fuck uses a bike lock to tie someone up?” he muttered to himself. To the woman, “You know this isn’t actually fastened around anything? You could’ve just stood up.” The chair she was bound to was completely straight. Made of wood, so there was a lack of friction. The woman blinked twice, before she attempted to stand up.

Viale ejected Mr. Blue Sky, and had it rip the chair out from under the woman.

“Wow, nice Stand.”

Viale blinked in recognition. “Oh, you must be…”

“The name’s Gatrice. Gatrice Beneficci. I was sent here on behalf of the Speedwagon Foundation. I have instructions to remain here until you– can you get off your phone?”

“Uh huh, yeah, sorry, texting my friend downstairs.” He put away his phone. “Anyway, remain here until…”

She sighed. “...I have to remain here until you no longer need my services.” She wiggled around. “Hey, could you get this bike lock off me?”

Viale blinked. “Yeah sure.” Mr. Blue Sky appeared and yanked the lock with a small amount of force. 

“MORA!”

The lock snapped off, and Beneficci was free. She stretched her arms behind her head and made a noise of relief. She fished a badge with the initials ‘S.I.D.’ engraved on it  from her breast pocket. “Here’s my badge.”

“Well,” Viale began, “What can you do?”

Beneficci smirked. She started to emit her Stand aura, a light brown, as a figure appeared on her shoulder. It was a bird, maybe an eagle, Viale figured. Its feathers were the same brown as Beneficci’s Stand aura, a light brown, whereas its underbelly was a dark crimson. The Stand had no eyes – none visible, at least, as they were covered by a visor, with the same colour of the underbelly. Its beak looked rather blunt, like it was not built to be a hunter. It was topped off with a deerstalker hat. 

“This is my Stand, ｢Hotel California｣!”

~~~

｢All Star｣

Long-Ranged Stand
Stats:
Power: B
Speed: A
Range: ※
Stamina: ※
Precision: A
Potential: ※

(※: depends on location)

~~~

Speedwagon Foundation HQ
Tokyo
Evening

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

“See you tomorrow, Higashikata-san.”

“Yeah, see ya, Maya.”

Josuke could never really shake his casual demeanour. Small-town life will do that to you. He would be kicking himself for staying at work too long; it was already evening, but he had to get this write-up on the Giovanna situation done. Sleep could wait. It wasn’t as if he had someone waiting for him at home.

Josuke’s writing was interrupted by a call. He smiled at the name that scrolled across his phone.

“What’s up, favourite sister?”

“ I’m telling Holly you said that, ” Shizuka Joestar, Senior Agent of the Stand Investigation Department, and Josuke’s adopted sister, responded over the phone. 

Josuke frowned. “Please don’t.” He pleaded. “What’s the occasion?”

“ I heard it’s someone’s birthday soon. ”

Josuke was confused. “Really? Whose?”

“ Makoto’s. Did you forget? April 23rd? ”

Josuke chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “Nah, I didn’t forget. I got her a motorcycle helmet. When you two were over in February, she was complaining about a dent in her old one, so I got one. It’s ‘Phantom Thieves’ themed.”

“ Har har. Very funny. I’m sure she’ll like it. ”

“So,” Josuke began, “how’s the holiday?”

“ Hawaii’s great. You should take a vacation here one day. ”

“Not my style. Plus there’s a buttload of work to do.”

“ While it is a big step up from being a mechanic, you literally still spend an hour a day doing your hair. ”

“My point still stands.”

Josuke could practically hear his sister roll her eyes. “ C’mon. You deserve a break. Anyway, you called me earlier. What’s up? ”

Josuke leaned forward and opened a tab on his computer. “Right. I got an assignment for you. Long-lost Joestar bullcrap, y’know?”

“ Who’s the caller? ”

“Remember that Giovanna guy? He was at dad’s…” he trailed off.

Shizuka caught on. “ Yeah, I remember him. Looks like DIO, right? ”

“Practically identical. I think he’s a bit slimmer, though. Cuz, y’know, DIO had Jonathan’s body?” Josuke shook his head as he realised he’d digressed. “But Giovanna’s son, Viale, is in a bit of trouble in Venice. You think you could go help him out?”

The line was silent. Josuke heard someone talking in the background, as well as Shizuka asking “how long?” in the distance.

“ Yeah, we get back in around two weeks. I’ll need a couple days after that, too, so give it two-and-a-half weeks notice. ”

“Thanks, Shizuka.” Josuke gave a genuine smile.

“ Now I need to get back to Makoto. I’m pretty sure she’s got something… planned for me. ”

Josuke grimaced. “Ew. I do not need to know that.”

“ We’re going to the volcano, dumbass. Get your head out of the gutter. ”

~~~

Outside Venice Royal Hospital
Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

“Are we really doing this?” Vuoto grumbled. 

“Yes, Vuoto. You’re the only way we can get in there,” Viale responded.

Despite Vuoto’s protests, Viale had come up with a plan for how to get to Zeppeli. None of them were his family, so there was no way the hospital would let them speak to him. Sana and Beneficci were also there. They needed Beneficci for her interrogation skills – apparently her Stand’s ability would help with the process. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with. Grab on, somewhere.” Sana, Beneficci and Viale each grasped a bit of shirt. Viale and Beneficci flanked his sides, Sana behind. Vuoto took a deep breath in. “C’mon, ｢Coldplay｣!”

Vuoto was left standing there like an idiot. There was no real indication that the Stand’s ability was at work.

“Did it work?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s just go.” 

Vuoto led the way through the sensor doors of the hospital. 

~~~

Sana was honestly pretty frustrated that she couldn’t get her Stand out. Viale had shown her up in every way possible. He’d figured out the two Stands’ abilities, how to avoid the danger entirely, and took them both out at lightning speed. They had called the local Speedwagon Foundation branch and had them take Chubby and Checker in. Beneficci would be interrogating them later. 

Meanwhile Sana was relegated to… nothing. Vuoto was the stealth guy, Viale was the bruiser, and Beneficci was the one getting the information. Sana felt that she was just kinda… there.

She had agreed to come along with Viale the day prior to find Beneficci because she wanted to get her Stand. That didn’t work out. She came to the hospital for the same reason, but… what was the point? They wouldn’t be in danger in a hospital . Hospitals were the furthest from danger one could be. 

At least Vuoto seemed to be doing a good job of keeping them hidden. Sana had mixed feelings about Vuoto. On one hand, he was proof that she had a Stand. On the other hand, he was proof that she was failing. The fact that she could see him was… aggravating.

They had entered the stairwell by this point. It was an old kind of stairwell – winding, made of concrete, and smelled of cigarettes from overworked doctors and nurses, not ready to get back to their jobs. It was vacated at the time, so the group came out of their disguise.

“Alright,” Vuoto said, “That should be good for a bit.”

“Good job, Vuoto.”

“I didn’t do much.”

Viale deadpanned, “You need to learn to take compliments, dude.”

Beneficci interjected. “What room’s he in again?”

“Room 130.”

“That’s the second floor.”

“So that’s three floors up, right?” Sana pitched in.

“What? No, it’s two floors,” Viale argued.

“But this is Ground Floor. It goes Ground, Floor 1, Floor 2.”

“Please.” Beneficci was getting sick of the argument. “There’s a ‘G’ right there.” She pointed  behind Sana. Surely enough, a large ‘G’ was painted on the wall.

Sana counted this as a win.

“That means, because hospitals are weird, Room 130 is one floor up. The hundred represents the floor.”

Viale grumbled in defeat. 

~~~

Room 130
Venice Royal Hospital
Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Stardust Man Appears

“Alright, Vuoto, you’re good.” Vuoto sighed in relief as everyone retracted their arms. Viale continued. The hospital room had four total beds, all separated by closed curtains. Three were currently occupied. “So where’s Zeppeli?”

“I think he’s–” Vuoto was cut short by a curtain being drawn, to reveal Vuoto’s once-bedridden friend, standing and in street clothes. “Fragi?”

“What’s up, Vuoto?” he responded.

Beneficci tapped Vuoto on his shoulder. “We’re gonna go find Zeppeli. You can chat here.”

Vuoto nodded, thankful. 

“Actually,” Sana interjected, “I want to stay back, too.” She looked rather downtrodden.

Beneficci agreed.

“Beneficci, he’s here,” Viale called out. He was standing at the end of another occupied bed. She checked the bed perpendicular to Zeppeli’s, but found the man there asleep, statue-still. Beneficci made her way over to see Zeppeli’s eyes staring daggers into the side of Viale’s head. She flashed her SID badge, which caught Zeppeli’s eyes.

“My name’s Gatrice Beneficci. I am a detective of the Stand Investigation Department of the Speedwagon Foundation. I’d like to answer some questions, if that’s alright with you?”

She had gotten Zeppeli’s attention, but it seemed like to her that he needed a bit more coercion to agree.

“Before we begin, I must let you know that I have authority to sanction you once your time in the hospital is over, on behalf of the SID, if you do not comply. That also applies if you lie.”

Viale snickered, but quickly turned around to hide it. Beneficci dismissed it, and continued. “Will you comply?”

The three were in a heavy silence. The only noises in the room were the hushed whispers from Fragi, Sana, and Vuoto off in the corner. 

“I will comply.”

“Alright.” Beneficci began emitting her light brown Stand aura as Hotel California appeared on her shoulder. “My Stand, Hotel California, will tell me if you’re lying. Be warned, if you do lie, it won’t be me keeping you in this hospital.”

“Now,” she attempted to do a cool trick with her notepad as she grabbed it from her pocket, but it slipped out of her fingers, and fell onto the floor. She sputtered some incoherent apology as she bent down and picked up the notepad. Her Stand had flown up off her shoulder when she had ducked down to avoid falling off. Meanwhile Viale was dying from both second-hand embarrassment, as well as laughter. “Erherm,” she attempted to recover from her embarrassment, “Let’s start the questions.” Hotel California returned to her shoulder and shook its head in mild bemusement.

“Who do you work for?”

“My uncle, Principal Esposito.” Viale nodded, although Hotel California had already confirmed the answer.

“Are there more Stand users in the school that we do not know about?”

“Yes.” 

“How many?” 

“I don’t know.”

She decided to ask the big question. “Do you have the Stand arrow?”

“No.”

“ Did you, at any point within the time that Gioviale Giovanna was at Master’s Academy, have the Stand arrow?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t have it now?”

“No.”

“Does one of the Stand users we don’t know about have it?”

“Yes.”

Viale glanced at Beneficci, rather impressed. ‘ Despite her first impressions, she sure knows how to ask the right questions. ’

“Do you know who ?”

“Yes.”

“What’s their name?”

“I cannot tell you.”

Hotel California turned its head to its user. “Hotel California says you can.”

Zeppeli’s breath hitched. “Fine. His name is Haf Horse. He is a Third-Year, but he’s been held back a few times. And, no, before you ask, I don’t know what his Stand is.”

Hotel California let out a loud squawk of approval. “That will be all, Mr. Zeppeli. Enjoy your recovery.” Her mouth turned to a sly smile. 

She and Viale turned to leave the room. Before Viale could get out of the door, however, Zeppeli called, “He’s dangerous.” Viale turned around, intrigued. “I don’t know what his Stand does, but I know he’s dangerous.”

Viale merely responded, “See you at school, Mr. Zeppeli.”

He walked out.

~~~

Master’s Academy Dorms
Haf Horse’s Room

‘ See you at school, Mr. Zeppeli. ’

“Shit,” he swore under his breath.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Somewhere in America
2011

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Farewell

“No! Please don’t go!”

“I’m sorry, baby, but I just can’t stay tied down. I’m a free bird now.”

“But what about Harry? He’s only a year old! You can’t leave him!”

“The boy… I’ll admit, Sharon, I do love him, but I just don’t think I’m a good influence on him.”

“No, please, Holland!”

“C’mon, baby, that’s not my name anymore.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Say my name.”

“Huh?”

“Say. My. Name.”

“Hol Horse.”

He looked up to the clear morning blue sky. “You’re goddamn right.”

~~~

Seven years later
Venice

“Hey mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Who’s ‘Holland’?”

She popped her head out of the kitchen, surprised. She found Harry looking through her old diaries. “Oh, Holland? He’s…” She trailed off.

“He’s my dad, right?”

Sharon left the kitchen and began to break down. “Oh, Harry, I’m so, so sorry.” She rushed over to her son and put her arms around him.

“Where did he go?”

“He… he went away, dear. For a very long time,” she said between hiccups. 

Harry’s mind began to churn. ‘ I’m going to find him,’ he thought. Once he did, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Can you tell me about him?”

Sharon brought her arms out, still holding her world. “Yes, of course, Haf.”

~~~

2027

As it turns out, Haf’s mother didn’t know much about his father. She’d told him his full name, ‘Holland ‘Hol’ Horse’. She had named her son after him, naming him ‘Harry ‘Haf’ Horse’. This made it pretty easy to find him on the internet. 

He was on a school trip to America. Not anywhere interesting, just Austin, Texas. Haf and a few of his rowdier friends decided to try to sneak into a bar. He’d managed to get in, as he looked like a 25-year-old man after not shaving for a week. 

It wasn’t like he wanted to get drunk. He was responsible like that. He’d leave the drinking to his friends – some of which had followed him in and already started ordering the cheapest stuff they could.

‘ Fags,’ he thought. Yeah, he knew he wasn’t allowed to say that word, especially in America. But honestly, he didn’t give a shit about what those snowflakes were enforcing. 

He excused himself to go to the toilet, offhandedly pinching a woman's ass on the way, when he spotted a man that looked to be in his early-seventies sitting in one of the booths. He had a cowboy’s hat on, even though he was inside, and wrinkles lining his once-handsome face. Haf recognised him instantly. It was his father, Hol Horse.

He made an instantaneous decision.

“Hey, old man.”

Hol’s cowboy hat tilted to the side, his eyes obscured by shadow. “What do you want, kid?” He answered, mildly annoyed. His voice was gravelly, a far cry from what it once was.

“Isn’t it bedtime for an old man like you? Your wife must be waiting.”

“Heh.” Hol Horse staggered out of the booth, “A smart mouth, eh? Well let me tell ya, I don’t have no wife. I’m a free bird .” He got up in Haf’s face. Had Hol been a younger man, Haf would be staring into a proverbial mirror by how much they looked alike.

Hol Horse’s eyes widened in recognition. “You’re… you’re Harry, aren’t you?”

“Glad you recognise me, pops.”

Hol Horse gave him a shaky grin. “Yeah, I see you. In fact,” he said as he slowly backed off, “I see right through you .”

“What on God’s Green Earth do you mean?”

“Heh. You’re no kid of mine.” Hol Horse waved him off as he began walking towards the door. The bar was quiet, especially now that they all saw a young man pestering the elderly. “I bet your mother has told you all about me and my… womanising, hasn’t she? I bet you think you’re just as good, if not better than me, huh?” He looked over his shoulder. Haf was silent. He didn’t like what he was hearing. “Well, I can’t blame you. I wasn’t there to prove you wrong.”

“You,” Haf grabbed his shoulder, “are just a deadbeat old man.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kiddo.” Hol turned to face his son yet again. “I’ve had my redemption, I reckon.” He looked down, a hint of regret lining his eyes. “Maybe– maybe if I had stayed, I coulda told you all about my life.” He shook his head. “Eh, whatever. My story’s over.”

Haf was left in disbelief. He couldn’t believe, after all these years, this was the only interaction he’d get from his father. Boy was he right.

“Come with me, kid. Just outside.”

Haf looked over to see Old Man Hol Horse holding the door open. He glanced at his friends, who were already drunk off their asses, and shrugged.

~~~

“Ya want some advice, kiddo?” Hol asked his son outside. It was the Fall, so it was getting rather cold. “Lord knows I’ve had plenty of mistakes to learn from.”

Hol Horse sat down on the curb. His son followed suit.

“Whatever.”

Hol ignored his son’s attitude. “Don’t let other people tell you what to do. You’re your own man.” Haf was surprised. He hadn’t expected this kind of introspection from the old fart. “A long, long time ago, I was hired by a man named DIO to do some… dirty work.”

“Like the Italian word for ‘God’?”

Hol hummed, “I always thought it was like the band, but sure. Whatever floats your boat. Anyway, this guy, DIO, heh, he walked all over me, lemme tell ya. He made me do things that…” he trailed off for a second, “...that I’m not proud of.” He sighed. “He put me at odds with the Joestar Family. Joseph Joestar died a few years back – I went to his funeral. Anyway, after his grandson, Jotaro Kujo, kicked the shit out of me, and his bastard son helped me out one time, I learned something: do what you choose. Don’t let people walk all over you; go your own way. I’ll tell you now: if you listen to my advice, you’ll become a free bird , just like me.”

Before Haf could react, he saw something glint in the corner of his eyes, and he heard a loud gunshot. Something warm ran down his head. Blood. His father fell over, ｢The Emperor｣ disappearing from his hand.

Hol Horse was dead.

The world grew colder.

~~~

Haf’s Dorm Room
Master’s Academy
Venice

Haf woke up in a cold sweat, huffing and puffing. ‘ That damned dream again… ’

Ever since that day, Haf Horse hadn’t been the same. He could never focus in school, so much to the point that he was held back two years. He’d done some… things , too, that shall go unnamed. 

Another thing that happened after Hol Horse died was Haf’s Stand, which he’d discovered a few months ago. It acted like a virus, which spread through eye contact, starting from him. Anyone with the ‘virus’, Haf could paralyse. Anyone that had the virus could also spread it. 

He’d been given the Stand Arrow to protect from Zeppeli; he’d only reluctantly agreed, only because he was really in charge. And Haf didn’t want to piss him off. 

He checked the time, 4:52pm. He chastised himself. He knew that Giovanna was going to be interrogating Zeppeli in the hospital around this time. Thankfully, he already had a mole in the room.

He reached and waded through his Stand’s networks until he found what he was looking for: the guy he didn’t know the name of. That didn’t matter, though, as what mattered was that this guy was in the same room as Zeppeli. That meant he had eyes and ears where he shouldn’t.

He activated his Stand, causing the already-asleep man to freeze.

Something he had figured out with his Stand was that, if he tried hard enough, he could sort of take the place of someone who was frozen. He could see what they see, hear what they hear, and even with some difficulty, project his voice out of their throat. 

When he did this, he heard something rather concerning:

“He’s dangerous. I don’t know what his Stand does, but I know he’s dangerous.”

“See you at school, Mr. Zeppeli.”

“Shit.”

~~~

｢Hotel California｣

Long-Ranged Stand

Stats:

Power: C

Speed: A

Range: A (1km)

Stamina: C

Precision: B

Potential: D

~~~

Streets of Venice
Near Master’s Academy
Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Travellers Who Rest

“Uh huh, yeah, a kid named…”

“Haf Horse.” 

“Haf Horse. Yeah, that’s the guy. Can you get on that? Thanks.” Viale hung up the phone. “Esposito said that he’s gonna go get the guy.”

Vuoto smiled and responded, “That’s great.”

Viale nodded. They’d walked back from the hospital. It was a pretty long walk. During the walk, he noticed Sana’s persistent silence. It was odd. She was usually rather quiet, but this, Viale noted, was out of character for the redhead. Viale fancied himself quite adept at reading people's emotions. It’s how he knew something was up when Zeppeli called him to his office. Sana’s face, however, gave nothing away. 

The group passed Hotel Montalvo, and bid farewell to Beneficci.

“Thanks for your help.”

“Call me if you need any help.”

Viale turned as Beneficci waltzed inside. Viale caught Sana staring at where Beneficci once was. Knowing that the mood was delicate, Viale turned to Vuoto and whispered, “You go along. I need to talk to Sana.” Vuoto raised his eyebrow knowingly. “No, not like that.”

“Sure, Viale. Whatever you say.” Vuoto waved him off as he left.

“What was that for?” Sana finally broke her silence. 

“Privacy. We need to talk.”

“Do we?” Sana asked, seemingly agitated. “As far as I can tell, things are going great.”

“Then you can tell me what’s been going on with you, and things will be even better.”

Sana was silent as they walked, slightly slower than Vuoto so that their friend wouldn’t be able to listen in.

“Sana?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell-”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Okay.”

“It’s… my Stand,” she said finally, shaking her head. “I can’t…”

“It’ll come,” Viale said. “I’m sure of it.”

“I… maybe. Yeah.” She looked off to the side, and he got the impression that she was frowning. “But the rest of you…”

“We’ve had time. You…” She turned her head back towards him before he could say any more, glaring into his eyes.

“So have I,” she said. “The hotel. The hospital. I’ve had plenty of opportunity to… to…”

“Hey.” Viale got her attention. “Look on the bright side. Maybe your Stand is like Vuoto’s. Y’know, a curse, more than an ability.”

She put her hand on her hip. “What, glass-half-full?”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

The two continued walking. 

“I think you need to find your resolve.”

Sana was silent.

Once they were close enough to the school, she noticed something.

“Hey, we lost Vuoto.” 

“Hmm? Oh, I’m sure he’s fine.”

Viale’s phone buzzed.

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Bad

Haf peered down at Vuoto running away in slow-motion. Haf was intrigued; he’d had no experience with using his Stand on other Stand users before this day. It seemed that they could still be frozen, but only with significant eye contact, not just a one-off glance. He shrugged. It wasn’t as if this was a set-back – it was merely a quirk. 

Vuoto had just walked into the dorm building when Haf caught him. The principal, who Haf had known was coming through his Stand, was frozen outside his dorm room. That was how he’d learnt what effect his Stand had on other Stand users. 

Vuoto hadn’t recognised him, and he didn’t really know what Haf’s Stand’s ability was, so he hadn’t stood a chance.

Refocusing on the underclassman’s prone form, he decided he would make an example. Rossi and Giovanna had to be arriving soon, so he had to make this work properly. 

｢Free Bird｣ wasn’t going to let him down.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Master’s Academy Dorm
Entrance Hall
Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Oh please…

‘ Honestly ,’ Haf thought, ‘ I kinda feel bad for the guy .’ 

Vuoto was trapped in his own slowed perception. To him, everything would be moving around sixteen times faster than normal, and that product was only growing through the continued eye contact between himself and Haf Horse. 

‘ Sana and Viale are right behind me, Sana and Viale are right behind me ,’ he kept repeating in his head. 

Sure enough, Viale burst through the doors, Sana meekly following suit. Viale had his Stand out, confidently holding its hand out in front of his eyes. Sana, too, had her eyes closed. They had run from the front entrance when they’d seen a student mid-step, frozen in place.

“It’s over, Haf Horse.” Viale brought out his phone. “The principal texted me ‘eyes’ a few minutes ago. I know your Stand’s ability.”

Haf responded, “Is that so? Enlighten me.”

Viale sighed. “I hate this trope,” he whispered under his breath. Then louder, “You can freeze people. Through eye contact. You did it to Sana and the rest of the school last week.”

Haf burst out laughing, slightly scaring Viale, but he held strong. “Correct! Got it in one! As expected from a Joestar!” He wiped a metaphorical tear from his eye. “But that won’t help you now.”

“What do you mean?”

Haf rounded the slowly-moving Vuoto, though Viale could only hear it. “You already have my Stand, Viale! You al-rea-dy have the ｢Free Bird｣ virus~!” Haf sung, out of pitch.

Viale frowned, ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ still holding its colourful hand out to block line of sight. “What are you talking about?”

Haf let out another chuckle. “What I mean is that all I need to do is activate my Stand, and you’ll be slowed down. Maybe not by much, but enough for me to do something you can’t stop .”

Viale was still. Silent. He heard things shattering from a distance away, maybe in the communal kitchen down the hall.

Haf gave a manic grin. “I’ve activated Free Bird for everyone in the school. I could do you and Sana at any time. If you’re slowed down, you won’t be able to stop me from, oh, I don’t know, stabbing some more people with the Stand arrow.”

Viale was about to step forward to punch Haf in the face, but the last comment made him halt entirely.

“T-that was you?”

Haf made an innocent face, bringing his hands together and up to the side of his head, forming a little hand-pillow. “Yes. But I’m vewy vewy sowwy.” He violently shook his head. “Please. I only used the arrow on people that attracted it. No-one died . Stop being a snowflake.”

“You gave everyone here a Stand?” Sana pitched in. “Vuoto, Fragi, Zeppeli, myself?”

“Nah, not Zeppeli. He already had one. No point in stabbing someone twice, amirite?” He continued. “But yeah, I stabbed you. And a few others, two. I bet you’ll be meeting them soon.”

“Alright, enough of these games.” Viale took a deliberate step forward, but when he lifted his leg, the world slowed down. He had half of his speed taken away. 

“Actually.” Haf was now exuding a red Stand aura. “I changed my mind.” His eyes turned to Sana, the last one fully conscious. She took a shaky step back, instantly recognising that tone. 

“You wouldn’t.” She challenged.

Haf’s eye twitched. “I already have.”

Sana’s arm fell down, her eyelids were the only thing protecting her. She assumed, because she had made eye contact with Viale recently, that she would be frozen next. 

“If you just, y’know, accept it, that’d be better for both of us.” Haf was slowly approaching her, with a certain intent. “I love as much as the next guy seeing a woman completely defenceless, and I found last time that the bitch being frozen… got old quickly.” He shrugged. “Plus, if you aren’t slowed, it’ll just go faster for you!”

“Stop talking.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

“Huh?”

“Stop. Talking. I’m tired of hearing you speak.” She wasn’t finished. Her eyes were now open, ready to face the Emperor’s son. She briefly cast her eyes to her volatile friends. She took a deep breath in, and took a few slow steps forward. 

Sana Rossi had found her resolve.

“You spit in the adege ‘with great power comes great responsibility’. You use your Stand as a tool for pleasure, not to help those less fortunate. I find you sickening, though I doubt you  see why.” She stared deep into Haf Horse’s eyes. “And from the limited interaction we’ve had, I’d say I’ve said enough.”

“Heh, bitch.” Haf’s eyes flared, and Sana went sluggish. “Have it your wa–”

“FORA!”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Diamond is Unbreakable

An arm shot out of Sana’s body, which was now radiating a pink aura brighter than the sun. The arm slowly grew as a head and torso phased out of Sana. Its whole body was pink and blue chequered, top-to-bottom. Its eyes were yellow, with large green pupils. The checkers flowed down into a short dress, stretching down past the knees. Its torso featured a large hollow circle, composed of the checkers as the borders – although they were squares, they formed a ring. Across its arms and legs were black-and-white stripes that separated two sides of the sequence pattern. It was topped off with a pure-pink sequin hat, with shining gemstones seemingly glued to the brim.

The Stand struck Haf in the abdomen, causing him to double over, spewing out blood onto the very arm that punched him. A swift punch to the head sent the boy flying, crashing hard into a nearby wall. The Stand flew back up to its user, whose mouth’s corners were slowly turning upwards, and placed a palm on her head. Instantly, Sana regained her speed, falling over from the shift.

The Stand hovered around the vicinity and did the same to Viale and Vuoto. Vuoto fell over like Sana, while Viale used his Stand to catch himself. He looked around in disbelief, and spotted Sana looking at him with a small smile. He knowingly returned the gesture after seeing the multicoloured individual standing behind her.

In a second, Viale was holding Haf Horse down with Mr. Blue Sky, its hands over Haf’s eyes to break any unwanted eye contact. 

“YOU FUCKING FAGS WILL PAY FOR THIS! MARK MY WORDS!”

Sana stood over him.

“What’re you gonna do?” Viale left Sana the choice.

She breathed out. “Let him go.”

Viale looked at her quizzically, before recalling Mr. Blue Sky. “You’re the boss.”

She nodded. 

“You idiot! What are you doing?!” Haf rolled around, but–

“FORA!”

In a fraction of a second, Rossi’s Stand struck Haf across the jaw, his head ringing as he spun with the momentum of the punch, sagging against the wall moments before another blow landed upon his ribs.

Haf felt bones break.

He needed eye contact, he needed–

A blink. One small, mistimed error.

“FORARARA!”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Diamond is Unbreakable 

The force of the Stand cracked the wall behind him as he was punched in the shoulder, head smacking against the wall. Haf screamed as he felt his bruised jaw strike the wall, flesh tearing in his chest.

And then, just as suddenly, he felt it leave. Flesh melded together, splits in skin seamless and unremarkable, bruises vanishing into nothingness. He blinked hard, gasping as he felt up his body.

“Wha–?”

He was cut off as Rossi stood before him, arms crossed, her eyes firmly shut.

“Give me a minute, GioGio,” she said as her Stand rematerialised behind her. 

Haf felt his blood run cold. Rossi twitched her hand, and the Stand twitched with her. There was something uncanny, inhumanly terrifying in the brief glimpse he saw of her eyes as her eyelids fluttered. Her pupils flamed, a Dark Determination had settled in, cold and intent, the gaze of a sniper staring down a target through a scope.

“I have a few… choice words to say,” she spoke as her Stand strode forward, fists clenched tight. 

Viale, knowing that he was in a danger zone, put his hand on Vuoto’s shoulder, and slowly backed away, Vuoto following suit. “We’ll uh, we’ll leave you to it.” Rossi nodded as the two boys left the room.

“Now, friend.” Sana dropped down to Haf’s level, slightly tilting her head. “What was it that you said you’d do to me?”

“U-u-u-h-h-h-h–” 

“Come on, you can do it.” Her death stare deepened. “Hmm. Maybe your jaw is still broken. Let me fix that.”

With her own fist, she right hooked his jaw, whipping his head to the left with a snap. She might’ve broken his neck with that punch, but they’ll never know, because as quick as it happened, the damage was reversed. 

“That’s better. Now, I believe you inferred you’d rape me?” She tutted. “That’s… unacceptable. For that, and the fact that you’re a repeat offender, I won’t. Hold. Back.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Diamond is Unbreakable 

“FORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA!”

He was slammed into the floor, bloodied and bruised, struggling to stay conscious. But as if the Gods wanted nothing more than his suffering, he found his injuries being healed yet again.

The Stand pummelled and pummelled, never giving the disgraced Son of the Emperor time to breathe. Sana didn’t let up. Over the constant Stand cries, Haf heard Sana shout, “This is my Stand, ｢Out of the Blue｣ !” 

“FORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA!”

She chuckled darkly. “And you never saw it coming.”

~~~

｢Free Bird｣

Bound/Shared Stand

Stats:

Power: ∅

Speed: A
Range: D (eyesight)

Stamina: ∅
Precision: A

Potential: E

~~~

Giovanna Estate
Nighttime
Naples

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Peace

“Thanks, Gioviale. Yeah, I know it’s disappointing, but these things happen. Have that SID agent have a go at Mr. Horse, why don’t you? Hmm? Rossi? Give Higashikata a call, and let her talk to him. He’ll understand. Alright. Yes, goodnight, son.”

Giorno sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he hung up the phone. Yet another late-night call. He was sure Grace would understand; it was their son, after all.

He heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Pannacotta Fugo popped his head in the door, still donning his cheese-like jumper. “Status?”

“They didn’t find it. Horse had it, but he gave it away a few days before Gioviale found him.”

Fugo took a deep breath in, before slamming the door behind him as he fully entered the room. “This is bullshit!”

“Calm down, Fugo.”

Fugo sat down with a huff, before shifting his eyes up at Giorno. “Sorry,” He winced. “It’s just… we’ve been dealing with this arrow for almost thirty years. We had Volpe, Pucci… and that Kars guy a few years ago.”

Giorno hummed in agreement. “I think… it’s time we destroy the Beetle-shaped arrow.”

Fugo raised an eyebrow. “How do you suggest we do that? Kujo already tried that years ago, but it just split into more pieces.”

“I believe one of Higashikata’s friends could help.” 

“Nijimura? Yeah, he could do it, if he didn’t fuck up every time he uses his Stand.”

“Josuke vouches for him, so I’ll trust him.”

Giorno turned his head to the calendar next to his laptop. “Fugo,” he addressed, “Ready the jet. It’s… that time of year again.”

~~~

Apollo Clinic
Venice
Evening

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Bad

The flame in Sana’s eyes had completely extinguished. She was now feeling the backlash of shattering someone’s bones over and over again with what were essentially her bare fists. She was currently at the Speedwagon Foundation’s Apollo Clinic near the city centre. Beneficci urged her to get checked up, as well as Haf, as her Stand ability wasn’t fully understood. 

It seemed like she could heal anything that she caused herself, but otherwise only if the things that caused the damage were no longer a danger could she heal the damage. For example, if someone was stabbed, she wouldn’t be able to heal the wound until either the knife was gone, or the perpetrator was taken out.

Beneficci came out of the room where they were keeping Haf Horse – sunglasses were required, although he himself had a permanent pair of goggles he couldn’t remove without alerting the SID. Even then they were practically fused to his face.

“He’s a babbler,” Gatrice declared. “He said he’d tell me everything if he didn’t see…” She discreetly nodded towards Sana.

Viale spoke up. “So what does he know?”

Gatrice yet again tried to flip open her notebook, but it caught on her trenchcoat and slipped out of her hands. Luckily, ｢Hotel California｣ was ready to catch it with its beak. She retrieved it from her Stand, and cleared her throat. “He doesn’t know where the arrow is. Hid it behind a dumpster last night after he received a text from a blocked number. We couldn’t track the number. A burner.”

“What’s a burner?” Vuoto asked.

“Dunno. Anyway, he told me he made a total of nine Stand users, including you two,” she looked between Vuoto and Sana, “...Mr. Fragi Vole, and this Matito guy Vuoto told me about.”

Vuoto frowned and put his hand on his chin. “So, that leaves… five, unaccounted for.”

Viale stood up, staring into nothing. “Then I guess we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Beaches of Sardinia
Evening

𝅘𝅥𝅮  - A Dream

Over the many, many years since Giorno Giovanna first visited Sardinia, he’d noticed that not much about the place actually changed. The beaches were always the same, the flowers were always in full bloom, and the children were always playing outside. 

Some years ago, in 2002, the Don of Passione erected a cemetery on one of the beaches. The rocks from the surrounding sands decorated the since-furnished beach. Giorno had personally made sure that the construction was done properly, even moving headstones himself on a few occasions.

This year, he was back again. From his privately owned airstrip, he, Fugo, Mista, and his wife Grace didn’t make a single sound on the drive over. The residents of Sardinia knew about his yearly visits, and found them fairly odd. “What would a mafia boss be doing here?” they would ask. “Is he here for trouble?”

What no-one would expect was that they were here for the opposite: they were here only for peace.

The car rolled to a stop next to the stairs of the mafia-funded cemetery. Grace waited in the car, while Fugo opened the trunk and got out a large briefcase.

Giorno, Fugo, and Mista entered the cemetery in single file, respectfully greeting the groundskeeper, who had long since grown accustomed to the yearly visits.

Inside, they spotted a pink–haired individual solemnly reading a headstone. Trish Una, who was taking a break from her tour. 

The three approached her, and wordlessly exchanged greetings. Giorno turned to the grave Trish was reading. There were three in a row.

Leone Abbacchio

25/03/1980 – 19/04/2001

‘To be remembered.’

Bruno Bucciarati

27/09/1980 – 19/04/2001

‘To remain together.’

Narancia Ghirga

20/05/1983 – 19/04/2001

‘To fly high.’

Giorno turned to Mista and nodded. 

Mista summoned ｢Sex Pistols｣ , all six of whom hovered over to Fugo, who had set the large briefcase down, and opened it. 

Number 1 and Number 2 grabbed a hold of a wine bottle, the most valuable Giorno could find of Leone’s favourite, and took it over to Abbacchio’s headstone.

Number 3 and Number 5 found a pot of soil with a white daffodil planted in it, and lifted it to Narancia’s grave.

Number 6 and 7 hoisted a pair of zippers and laid them on Bruno’s resting place.

The Pistols returned to Mista and sat down on his shoulders. They all understood the significance of the situation, and there was no bickering, no teasing at all coming from any of them. A rare sight for the Stand.

Finally, Giorno picked up the red wine on Abbacchio’s grave, opened it, and poured it out on all three graves. 

Once the bottle was emptied, Giorno returned it to Abbacchio. 

The four remaining friends fell back in line, closed their eyes, and said ‘hello’ to their fallen comrades. 

The future forecasted blue skies.

~~~

Local Park
Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Link

Viale was moving on autopilot. He had been for two days now, ever since Sana… did that . School was a blur, Vuoto tried to talk to him a few times in vain, and he’d had the conversation with his father. No matter what Viale tried, his thoughts would stray back to the incident without fail.

He had somehow made it to the park around the corner from school. It was a common meeting place for students for various activities, Viale’d found. Mostly to vape and smoke. 

Right now Viale had no idea what he was doing with his after school time. He could be doing homework (Stand homework that Polnareff set), or hanging out with friends. But instead, he was wasting his time wandering around. 

Viale was about to return to school when he noticed a glimmer of auburn hair up on the hill. Sana was sitting on top of the tall hill, arms around her knees, holding them close to her chest.

Viale sighed. He knew what he had to do. 

He stumbled up the hill, making the whole thing difficult for himself as he scaled the sheer side of the cliff rather than taking the stairs on the other side of the mound. 

Sana had noticed him by that point, incredulously wondering what the hell Viale was doing.

Viale finally made it up the steep incline, doubled over, huffing and puffing. “‘Sup?” he asked.

Sana was perplexed. “You know there are stairs, right?”

He had not. “Of course.” 

She rolled her eyes.

“This is quite the sight.” He looked around from atop the hill. He pointed off into the distance. “You can see the ocean from here.”

“Yeah…”

Viale sighed. “You know why I’m here, though.” He sat down next to her, mirroring her position, but resting his arms on his legs instead of around them. When he thought back, Viale could still see the wall, plaster caved in, blood splattered along the edges of the broken material. He waved those thoughts away. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She said it without pause, barely a second between hearing the question and speaking the word. “I’m not.”

Viale sighed, gently raising a hand to massage his temples. It had been a stupid question. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The words were spoken with bitterness, with a dangerous slant of tone that cut through the space between them like a knife. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if there was a double meaning to that.

“Neither did you.” 

Sana glared to her left, staring Viale in the eyes, disbelieving. “I tortured him! I– I committed a war crime ! Seriously! I looked it up!” She shot up. “I broke the Geneva Convention ! What do you mean ‘neither did you’? Yes I did! I should be tried in court!”

Her eyes were closed, trying to stop her tears from falling. She didn’t notice Viale getting up.

She felt his arms wrap around her. Her breath hitched. If she was crying before, she was sobbing then, as she leaned into Viale. Viale held her, trying his best to comfort his torn friend.

“You–” he made sure that she could hear him, “You… can do so much good. With or without your Stand. Remember that you’re still a good person . Haf Horse… he was scum. He hurt people. The way I see it, he got what was coming to him. But it came at the cost of your sacrifice, and…” He remembered what his father had suggested. “Sana, my dad’s got a friend. He’s… got a similar Stand to you, apparently, and he’s been in a similar situation, too. He asked if you’d want to talk to him.”

Sana sniffled. “I-I’d like that,” she whispered into his shirt. Viale decided to delicately pet her on the head. Sana giggled in relief. “You’re so corny.”

Viale considered this mission: complete.

~~~

｢Out of the Blue｣

Close-Ranged Stand

Stats

Power: B

Speed: B

Range: D

Stamina: A

Precision: A

Potential: B

~~~

Yongen-Jaya
Tokyo
Late Afternoon

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - A Fate that Still Remains

Yongen-Jaya was often considered quiet. Homely. That’s why Josuke liked it. It reminded him of home. Sure, he’d left Morioh in good hands, with Okuyasu, Yuya, Koichi, and Yukako, but Josuke couldn’t help but worry. It was the town he’d sworn to protect in honour of his grandfather. However, the intrusive skyscrapers of Tokyo weren’t very prominent in Yongen. That, and Shizuka’s best friend lived nearby, and any friend of Shizuka’s was a friend of his. He was almost at the apartment when he got a text from Viale.

Viale Giovanna

Sana’s agreed to call

Be cautious, I’ve only just gotten her to calm down

Josuke sent back a ‘Ready in 5’ text as he entered the PIN for his apartment. 

He’d been thinking about this conversation for a while now. ‘Well, that’s not entirely true. It only happened yesterday,’ he thought. But the topic had really been on his mind since the bizarre summer of ‘99. Was it really alright for Josuke to pass judgement on Terunosuke Miyamoto? Sure, Angelo deserved his fate, but he wasn’t sure about the Enigma. From what Josuke heard, Terunosuke was still a book in the Morioh library. 

He was brought out of his head when he heard his phone buzz. 

“Hello, this is Josuke Higashikata.” 

“ Um, hi, uhhh, don’t you speak Italian? ” Josuke heard. 

“Oh, yeah, right. Italian, not English. Sorry, Viale, I didn’t read the caller ID. Have you got Ms. Rossi there?”

“ Yeah, I’ll pass you over. ”

Josuke heard a faint ‘do I have to?’ before some shuffling.

~~~

Viale’s Dorm Room
Same Time

“H-hi?”

“ Hi, is this Rossi-san? ” His voice sounded warm, sort of like the voice of an old friend. She took a deep breath, failing to steel herself.

“Yeah. Uh, Viale told me… that you know about…”

“ Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, when Viale said that you’re not to blame, he was right. ” Sana was surprised by how much Viale had told him. “ Oh yeah, Viale’s my cousin, by the way .” That explained it. “ Well– first cousin, once removed– it’s complicated, but we’re family, okay? ”

“Yeah...” Sana took a moment to think. “C-can you tell me… what you did? I-I just wanna know… if you really were in, y’know, a similar situation.”

She heard Josuke chuckle at the other end of the line. “ Man, what haven’t I done? That’s not some weird flex, by the way. Stand business can get… pretty bizarre, sometimes. ”

“That’s a word for it.”

Josuke paused. “ So, do you want to hear the most gruesome, or the least, first? ”

“U-uh, least?” She was unsure. She did not expect this guy that sounded like a childhood friend to have a list of all of the horrible things he’d done.

“ Right, well, my Stand, ｢Crazy Diamond｣ , can essentially restore anything, living or no, to a previous state. Like if there was a broken table, I could fix it, but I could also turn it back into a tree stump. You get me? ”

Sana nodded, but then realised it was a phone call, so said, “yeah.”

“ But I can also incorrectly fix something. With the table from earlier, I could make one of the legs twisted ninety degrees. So, this one time, this dickhead was riding around town, destroying stuff, so I… uh… snapped his knees and reset them to be backwards. ”

Sana had a thought. ‘Hold on, that was the least gruesome?’

“ This other time, I fused a guy into a book. ”

“Yeah, you’ve proved your point.”

“ I haven’t even got to Angelo, yet. ” Josuke sighed. “ Look. From what Viale’s told me, this guy you fought… was a pretty bad dude. ” He paused. “ Wait, was his last name ‘Horse’? ”

Sana raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“ No way. Just a sec, let me get out my laptop. I think Beneficci made a profile on him .”

Sana waited impatiently, kind of annoyed that Josuke was making this about the guy she was stressing about. 

“ Ha… No way. ”

“What? What is it?”

“His father… is Hol Horse.” Sana heard a chair creak. He’d probably leaned back. “I went to his funeral a few years back. He was an old friend. He helped me fight a Stand user back in ‘98.” Josuke paused. “Hey, I have a question for you. You might need to remember the fight, though.”

“Hit me.”

“ When you were beating him up, what did you feel? ”

What did she feel? She felt herself leave. She felt her humanity ebb away. “I– fire. Bloodlust. I felt… absent.”

“ Hmm. I thought so. There’s this thing that happens to Stand users in times of stress. Apparently I had it when I turned Angelo into a rock. That’s what Jotaro said, anyway. You really can’t blame yourself. That’s just a side-effect of being a Stand user – it’s unavoidable. Having these powers isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. ”

Sana gave a small smile. “Thanks, Mr. Higashikata. I think I understand.”

“ No problem, Rossi-san. Call me anytime. Not business hours, though. And not on school nights. ” 

“God, you’re just as corny as Viale.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Venice Royal Hospital
Midday

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

“Are you sure it’s alright that you’re here?”

“No one can see me, so it’s fine.”

Vuoto was helping Fragi return to school. This involved Vuoto infiltrating the hospital again. It was much easier the second time around, not having to take three other people with him. 

Fragi was still adjusting to the Stand user lifestyle. Vuoto had told him over text about what he’d learned about Stands and their intricacies. Apparently, he had what was called a ‘Bound Stand’, as in, it was bound to his person, and couldn’t be actively summoned. 

From his previous experiences, he’d discovered that his Stand was the ultimate suicide-prevention Stand. He could practically heal Deadpool-style from any wound he intentionally inflicted on himself. And even then, apparently Sana Rossi, the aloof subject of many people's ambitions, had a Stand that could heal people, with some limitations. Basically, if Fragi said “I meant to let that happen”, he could survive anything. Not that it wouldn’t still hurt. 

He’d named his Stand ｢Stayin’ Alive｣ .

The move out of the hospital was a difficult change. Fragi had a bit of atrophy from his stay. Vuoto was honestly just surprised that it took a week-and-a-half for Fragi to get out of the hospital. It was only a stab wound. Usually that was just a checkup and a night at the hospital. 

Vuoto was almost done packing Fragi’s bits-and-bobs that he’d accumulated from his tenure, when he remembered that Zeppeli was in the next room over, still recovering from the brutal beating Viale had given him. Apparently Viale had broken multiple of Zeppeli’s bones during his beatdown. Vuoto decided to say “hello” to the former enemy. 

He peeked his head through the curtain to see Zeppeli already staring at him. “Vuoto.”

“M-Mr. Zeppeli.” Vuoto was caught off-guard by the man knowing he was going to talk to him.

“What can I do for you?”

“R-right, uhh, I just wanted to say ‘hi’.” Zeppeli continued staring at Vuoto. “So, uh, hi.”

As Vuoto went to retreat, Zeppeli called out, “I don’t bite.” Vuoto re-entered the space. “My reservations lie only with the Joestars.”

“Why?” Vuoto questioned.

Zeppeli quirked an eyebrow. “Come again?” 

“Why do you hate them so much?” Zeppeli was about to speak again, but Vuoto beat him to it. “From what Viale has told me, he didn’t know his entire dad’s side of his family, and you knew that. You had to explain to him why you were having a fit. Doesn’t that seem a bit, you know, rash?”

He continued, “And even then, we talked to Joseph Joestar’s son, Josuke, and he said that Joseph had always regretted not saving your relative. Why don’t you leave what happened in the past in the past? It was literally ninety years ago. Get over it.” 

Before Zeppeli could instinctually retort, Vuoto heard that Fragi had opened the door, and turned away, leaving Zeppeli shocked. He had much to think about.

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

Vuoto decided to take a more direct route from the hospital this time. For some reason, no one Vuoto knew had a car, so they had to either wait an hour for a bus, or walk back to the dorms. They chose the latter, despite Vuoto still being wounded. 

This meant that they passed by Vuoto’s least favourite place in the city: the cemetery. He hated the cemetery. It wasn’t just this one, too. He hated all cemeteries. He had plenty of respect for the dead, but he didn’t like being reminded of it. Plus it didn’t help that he had necrophobia.

For Fragi, though, he faced his irrational fear, and marched on through.

“What’s with that look on your face? You know ghosts aren’t real, right?”

Vuoto’s face was scrunched up, nose upturned, eyes slammed shut, all, “to keep out the death”, whatever that meant. “Can we just keep moving? I don’t like this place.”

Fragi snorted. “Sure, buddy, sure–” 

He was cut off by the sounds of sniffling. Fragi turned the corner around the cemetery wall to see a boy, a young boy. He had tears running down his porcelain face, obscured by his rainbow propeller hat. 

“Hey, kid, what’s wrong?” Fragi knelt down to his level, ignoring the aching from his back. 

“D-D-Dad… he’s gone!” the boy responded.

Fragi grew more concerned. ‘This boy’s father is gone?’ “Where did you see him last?”

The boy sniffled, and pointed at the wall surrounding the cemetery.

“Ohhh no no,” Vuoto declined, “I am not going in there. Not a chance.”

“C’mon, Vuoto. The poor boy lost his dad.”

“M-my name’s Dolce.”

Vuoto looked like he was fighting himself. Finally, after making a multitude of odd noises, he relented. “F-fine, but make it quick! But just so you know, I don’t like this.”

Fragi nodded, and turned back to the sniffling boy. “What’s your dad’s name, young man?”

The boy held onto his red-accented white shirt. “His name’s Gelato.”

~~~

Many, many years ago
Venice

𝅘𝅥𝅮  - Wonder

“Oh, mi Dio, Dolce. Stop. Crying.” Dolce was sitting in the back seat, bawling. “Please!”

“Why do we have to go to away?!” 

“I told you, the boss is trying to kill us!”

“Yeah but why do I have to come?”

“Because you literally can’t last five minutes without me! And I can’t let you get hurt.”

This only made Dolce cry harder.

Gelato sighed. “Look.” The car slowed at a red light. Across the street, Gelato saw his salvation. A gelato stand. “Will you stop crying if I get you ice-cream?”

Dolce instantly quietened. Gelato saw his smile in the rear-view mirror, and groaned.

~~~

Inside the Graveyard

“Alright Dolce, can you see him?” The boy’d taken to holding Fragi’s hand, which Fragi found very cute. They were at the entrance of the yard, Vuoto deciding to “keep lookout”. For what, Fragi had no idea.

“Mmh-mmh,” Dolce shook his head. “But he’s here.”

“Maybe he’s looking at a grave. Let’s look around more.” They trotted along, Fragi trying to keep a slow speed so Dolce’s little feet could keep up. “So, who is your dad visiting, do you know?”

“No, he just took me here without saying anything.” Dolce’s head turned down slightly. Fragi noticed this, and decided to change the subject. Obviously, Dolce and his father didn’t seem to get on well.

“Do you like ice-cream, Dolce?” His mouth instantly turned into a smile, and he nodded vigorously. “It’s pretty hot today. Have you had some?”

“No… I haven’t had ice-cream in a while…”

“What’s your favourite flavour?”

Dolce hummed as they turned into another aisle. “I like strawberry flavour!” he declared.

“Really? No way, that’s my favourite, too!”

Dolce’s eyes widened as he beamed. Without his hat blocking the sun, Fragi now saw that his skin was rather shiny. Very shiny. Almost plastic-like. “Hey Mr. Fragi, do you go to school?”

Fragi puffed out his chest. “Of course! I go to school all of the time! I live at school!”

Dolce gawked. “No way. I really want to go to school!”

Fragi deflated and curled an eyebrow. “You don’t go to school? Why not?”

“Dad doesn’t let me. He says stuff like “you’re too good for school”. I don’t think so, though.” His cap cast shade over his eyes.

“Aww, c’mon, little guy. I’m sure you’d fit in fine at school–” He was cut off by his phone ringing. It, oddly, was Vuoto. Fragi stopped and turned around to see Vuoto still standing at the entrance, glaring at him and pointing at his phone. “What’s that?”

“Uh, a phone.” He answered the call. “What do you want?”

“ Ask the kid if he can see me. ”

Puzzled, he lowered his phone. “Hey, Dolce, can you see my friend over there?”

Dolce looked over to where Fragi was pointing, but there was no recognition.

“No, he can’t, Vuoto. Yeah, I’ll be alright. Bye.” He hung up. “C’mon, let’s find your dad.”

Suddenly, Dolce gasped. “There he is!” Fragi looked around, scanning the direction the boy was pointing in, but he only found more graves. Dolce let go of Fragi’s hand and began running towards one plot that had two spaces filled. “Dad!”

Fragi took a second to consider, but ran after Dolce, despite the danger that being around a Stand user presented. 

Turns out, the child was quite the runner. He stopped at the end of the row – next to the double-plot. Fragi came to a slow stop next to the boy. “What’re you…” he trailed off. In front of him were two headstones. They read:

Sorbet Neve

1981 – 2001

Gelato Neve

1978 – 2001

𝅘𝅥𝅮  - Nervous

‘ Gelato… wait, that’s…! ’

“Hi dad!”

He turned to the child. ‘ How? This guy died twenty-seven years ago? How is this his kid? ’

“Hey, uh, Dolce. Are you sure this is your pops?”

“Mmh-hmm!” He nodded in confirmation.

“This… this guy’s been dead for twenty-seven years, kid. There’s no way.”

“He is, I swear! That’s my dad and his brother!”

“Which one, uh, is your dad?”

“He’s Gelato!” Dolce’s eyes widened for a brief moment, but turned downtrodden. “It’s… it’s been really hard without dad. He always– he always knew how to cheer me up.”

Fragi realised something. ‘ This poor kid… he hasn’t had a family in twenty-seven years… but there’s definitely something off about him. ’

“Hey, kid,” Fragi started, “Do… Do you want to come back to school with us?”

~~~

Master’s Academy
Afternoon

“This is the kid?” Viale was speaking in hushed tones to Vuoto. Vuoto had called ahead, trailing behind Fragi and Dolce (they’d gotten ice cream). “Are you sure he’s a Stand user?”

Vuoto nodded. “He’s smart. Much too smart for a ten-year-old.” He then did a once-over of Viale. “Hey, are your clothes alright? You look a bit… burnt.”

He was. His school uniform, a plain white dress shirt, blue-cyan striped tie, and a similarly coloured blazer that he was hoisting over his shoulder, was practically in tatters. Singed marks were splayed around, and even the Gucci plain-white shirt he’d recently bought was missing a sleeve. 

“Feeling crisp, thanks. I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay then.”

“Do you know any good burn relief stuff I can use?”

“Huh? What? No.”

“Don’t worry then.” 

Fragi got down on one knee in front of the doll-like child. Viale flanked his left. “Alright, Dolce, this is my friend. His name’s Viale. He’s gonna ask you some questions.”

He flashed his signature smirk. “I’m Viale Giovanna. Nice to meet you–”

“Giovanna?” Dolce interrupted, “Like, Giorno Giovanna?”

Viale frowned and tilted his head. “He’s my father.” He responded cautiously. 

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - Squad

Dolce’s eyes flared as his innocent grin faded from his cheeks. He dropped his ice-cream, which he somehow hadn’t finished on the walk back to school, and clenched his open hand. A sepia aura began spewing out of Dolce’s body, the same colour filled his pupils. Viale noticed this change in body language and began to slowly back away. 

“Bring out your Stand.”

Suddenly, what looked to be a miniature hippopotamus jumped up next to Viale. Viale threw his hand out in front of his body, causing the aggressive hippo to chomp down on his arm. 

After a cry of pain, Viale summoned ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ .

“ MORA! ”

The Stand karate-chopped the mammal, the force tearing the supposed Stand apart. Realising his mistake, he looked over to see the child’s rather imposing form standing there as if nothing happened.

‘ What? Doesn’t damaging the Stand damage the user? ’ Viale thought.

Fragi had taken cover. He reasoned that he was no use in a real Stand fight. “We’ll just leave this to Viale,” he reasoned. 

Meanwhile, Viale was reeling. Many more plastic hippos had appeared, and Mr. Blue Sky could only keep up for so long, especially after the prior events of the day. 

Viale flinched and stumbled forward as a frisbee hit him from behind his head. He was so preoccupied with the Stand that he had no idea what its ability was. The frisbee, defying all physics and acting like a boomerang, returned to Dolce’s open hand. He seemed quite adept at wielding the plastic weapon.

Vuoto was thinking hard in the backline. He knew, thanks to Fragi, that ｢Coldplay｣ had its intended effect on Dolce, which was confusing, as he obviously had a Stand…

‘ Why would a Stand user not be able to see me? ’ Vuoto had a limited amount of time to figure this mystery out, as Viale seemed to be on his back leg, and was now being assaulted by LEGO Millennium Falcons and TIE Fighters. ‘ It can’t be one of those Colony Stands, as it’s a bunch of different things! Different… toys… ’

Vuoto’s eyes lit up. He shouted from behind the corner he was hiding behind. “Viale! The Stand is just a bunch of toys!”

Viale’s eyes widened as he recognised what Vuoto was saying. “Thanks, but let’s hope it doesn’t turn into those other toys!”

“This is not the time for those kinds of jokes, Viale!” Vuoto admonished. His thoughts turned to his own Stand. ‘ Now, why can’t he see me? That’s the million-Euro question. ’

“Time’s up, Giovanna!” Dolce announced, “You’re done!”

To Viale’s immediate confusion, all of the toys attacking him disappeared. In their place, a Jenga Tower the height of the dorm building rose from the ground, with wooden blocks the size of cars. Vuoto estimated that one of those dropping on a person would kill them without discrimination.

‘ He’s gonna topple the whole thing onto Viale! ’ Vuoto sprang out of his hiding place, sprinting towards the child. ‘ It’s just a kid! I can overpower a kid! Especially when he can’t see me. ’

“Goodbye.” Dolce flicked his hand, bringing with it the base block facing Viale. He quickly realised what was up, and braced for the worst. At the same time, Vuoto spear-tackled Dolce–

–and fell right through him!

“He’s a Stand! Dolce is the Stand!” Vuoto called out. Understanding flashed across Viale’s face before…

BOOM! CRASH!

The tower crumbled, taking Viale with it. Dolce carelessly wandered over to where Viale made his last stand, next to the game of Jenga. Vuoto was in shock, still sprawled out on the ground after eating dirt. “No… no way…”

Fragi popped his head out of the bush, clearly confused as to what had happened. 

Dolce spoke up. “Hmph. He wasn’t worthy of Passione. Just like I thought.”

…

…

…

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not in Passione.”

“MORA!”

A technicolour fist shot out from the nearest block, clocking Dolce in the cheek. Being an actual child, the force flung him back a few paces. His demeanour instantly changed as he started sniffling. 

“How?”

“Simple.” Viale fully emerged from a ‘1 Euro’ coin that had been in Viale’s pocket. “I used my Stand, Mr. Blue Sky, to hide in this coin, and save myself from the impact.” He rolled his shoulders and craned his neck. “But I did feel a bit of the fall, if that makes you feel any better. Now…”

Mr. Blue Sky floated out of Viale’s person. He jumped down from the block he had hidden in and slowly made his way to the runt. 

“Why don’t you tell me…” the Stand cracked its knuckles, “...who you really are?”

“My name is ｢Sweet Child O’ Mine｣ , at least, that’s what Dad called me at first…” Dolce sputtered, “a-and he told me to ‘test Giovanna’ before he died, so I-I was just doing what I was told!” he cried.

~~~

Diavolo’s Mansion
Late Night
Venice
2001

“ Alright, Dolce, get in there,” Gelato whispered. The boy-like Stand obliged, and slipped through the wall. Even though he was sentient and acted like an eight-year-old, he was still a Stand, and could act like one. He could float, he could phase through walls, he was invisible to non-Stand users, and he had a massive range. This made him amazing for infiltration and reconnaissance. 

Personally, Gelato didn’t like using his surrogate son this way, but Dolce was all for it, so he yielded, and let La Squadra bring him on missions with them. 

Right now, he and his brother, Sorbet, were spying on the elusive Boss of Passione. They had figured out his identity, but couldn’t contact the rest of their team to relay the information as Passione was watching all forms of communication.

Little did Diavolo know, there were two intruders on his property. They had heard of the unstoppable nature of Diavolo’s Stand, but decided that they were too far in to back off. 

Luckily Sorbet’s Stand was more than capable of handling King Crimson’s wrath. Unlike his brother, it was a close-ranged Stand, named ｢Nightrain｣ . It was about as strong as a train, that whenever summoned, would always appear where the target least expected it, and ram them. Unfortunately it wasn’t as big as a train, only the front carriage ever appeared. This lent it very well to assassination.

After looking through Dolce’s eyes to see where he was up to, Gelato signalled to his brother who was across the hall to–

~~~

｢Sweet Child O’ Mine｣

Automatic Stand

Stats:

Power: ※

Speed: C

Range: A

Stamina: C

Precision: B

Potential: D

( ※ = depends on summon)

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮  - Fierce Fight

“Dad? Dad, where are you?” Dolce frantically ran through the hallways, making wrong turns and hitting dead ends. “Are you hurt? I felt something, but I didn’t–” 

He rounded one last corner, before– 

“｢King Crimson｣!”

A man was standing behind him. He knew he had experienced a Stand ability; he just knew. But at this moment, he had to attack. He threw out his hand behind him. Not having enough time to prepare said attack, he could only muster a Jack-in-a-Box into existence. Not that it mattered, as a red-and-white chequered leg crushed it as soon as it landed on the ground.

“A child?” The man muttered. Dolce felt strong hands roughly grip his head. “No… a Stand…! How interesting.” 

The man’s Stand abruptly let go. “It seems like Carne wasn’t spouting nonsense about post-mortem Stands… very well.”

The man’s laughter echoed through the halls as Dolce ran.

~~~

“...and he never came back.”

Viale hesitated walking over to the boy. The new insight into the Stand was concerning – learning that there was a powerful Stand-user out there that easily bested two hitmen. 

“What happened next? Did the man… you know, do anything to you?”

Dolce chuckled and gave a sad smile. “He tried, but I escaped pretty easily. I’m not some pushover, you know.”

Vuoto tapped Viale on the shoulder. He and Fragi had been a safe distance away during Dolce’s story, but Vuoto had a pressing matter.

“Do you live somewhere?” he asked. It was a fair question. For someone who looked like a child, he mustn't have had a permanent residence. 

“I usually just hang around here. But… maybe I should be staying closer to the school. The only problem with that is that I’ll still be on the streets.”

“You know what, Dolce.” Viale dropped down to his height. “I think we have a place for you to stay.”

~~~

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - No Music

“So then I said ‘Your panties are showing’ in sign language, and Kakyoin knew exactly what that meant, even though we sign in different languages!”

Viale nodded sagely. Polnareff needed some companionship, and they were both ghosts, so they had a lot to talk about. It helped that Dolce was easily entertained, too.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Master’s Academy
Morning

The thing Fuoco Esercito hated the most about life was social standings. They rarely made sense to him. As he aggressively paced through his godforsaken school, he constantly stumbled into places and situations where he thought he’d be accepted, but was consistently refused entry. Places like the extensive library, the gym, and even most floors of the dormitory. 

There was no logic to it. No number system, no statistics. 

At age five he understood the Dewey Decimal System. At age eight he knew the first thirty digits of Pi. At age eleven he’d mastered Morse Code and Italian Sign Language. Now, age sixteen, he had nothing to show for it. Sure, he’d won many awards over the years, and he’d been placed highly in IQ tests – the same helped him get into Master’s Academy. But none of that mattered in the face of the hardest challenge of them all: the fight for popularity. 

He’d long wanted to perfect his schooling career. He was intelligent, he was great at sports… all things that would typically assist in becoming ‘popular’, yet there he was. Alone and forsaken. 

Esercito was walking down the hall, doing his own thing, when he brushed past him . Gioviale, goddamn, Giovanna. 

The man was the bane of Esercito’s existence, and he didn’t even know who Esercito was! He was effortlessly popular, becoming friends with Sana Rossi — a feat known for being practically impossible — in the first two days of being at Master’s! Fuoco figured he’d bought her off. He’d learned about the Giovanna family shortly after Viale arrived. The books didn’t lie; his family was filthy rich off mob activity. His father had been the Don of Passione for long enough to where just about everyone in Italy knew what he was. He’s probably a drug trafficker, Fuoco thought. He’s got that Passione money.  

But lucky for Fuoco, he had recently been hit with a certain arrow, and well, let’s just say that this new development had changed some things. 

~~~

Viale fancied himself a forgiving man. He forgave Polneraff for shooting him without warning, he forgave Zeppeli for attacking him without warning, and he forgave himself for constantly being attacked… without warning. There was one person he did not forgive, however, and that person was standing right in front of him, stunned in the middle of some random hall.

Amicio Nemico was doubled-over, out of breath, heaving his lungs out in front of Viale. Viale was only trying to get to his next class, but of course, the life of a Stand user got in the way and took precedence.

The black-haired dunce caught his breath and attempted to speak once again.

“There’s a Stand! Out on the grounds!” he hastily described. “It’s like… a tiny fire guy…”

“‘A tiny fire guy’?” Viale raised an eyebrow. “You gotta be more descriptive than that.”

Amicio described how the Stand was like one of those toy soldiers he had as a kid, but on fire and without the guns. Viale didn’t have many toys as a kid, but recalled the appearance of said toys from a movie he watched in which they were characters. With a better understanding, Viale merely brushed off the desperate man.

“I don’t know why I should help you after what you did to me,” he plainly stated, “Besides, who knows if this Stand is even causing trouble.”

“But Viale, buddy,” Amicio begged, “I can’t fight him! I could only make one Stand, and it just burned right away! I had to run away to avoid breathing the fumes in.”

“So why should I help you?” Viale turned heel to face his nemesis, and stared him down. Amicio shrank into himself in response. “Because as far as I know, you’re still working for someone to try to get my arrow – which you stole, by the way.”

Amicio groaned. “I’m not trying to get your arrow… again. There’s a legitimate threat to the school running around!”

Viale sort-of-laughed. ‘ Yeah, sure. ’ “Okay then. Where is he?”

They set off to the pool area.

~~~

Esercito paced around, waiting for Giovanna to show up. He was getting impatient. He’d sent Amicio to go get him, and to make it sound believable. “ He should be here by now! ”

As if on queue, the boiler room door flung open just on queue. Light was spilling into the dark, dank room behind Viale. The blond stood there, in some kind of pose in the doorway (Fuoco was certain he’d seen that same pose in some magazine). Fuoco could see Amicio hiding behind the blond. 

“Finally, you decided to show up, huh?” Fuoco taunted. 

“Yeah, I thought if you were gonna break some shit, I should be here to watch, y’know?” Viale was lying. He only wanted to see if Amicio’s claims had merit. It was obviously a trap – he didn’t trust Amicio one bit – but he thought if he could handle Amicio once, he could handle this clown. “It’s good entertainment.”

This set something off in Esercito – he decided that talk was a waste of time. In an instant, Fuoco dragged the phosphorus across the rough surface of his matchbox that he’d been carrying in his hand, obscured to Viale’s eyes. From the flame that danced around the matchstick, a faint battle cry was produced. Amongst the various other sounds that came from the room, however, it was silent on Viale’s ears. 

Viale watched the match silently. He’d learned by now that some Stands had odd activation requirements. Polnareff had told him of one that required the user to win a game of poker to activate the ability, so he knew to be wary. His hesitance proved fruitful, as from the match spawned an inch-high, seemingly sentient ball of fire. To Viale’s confusion, the fire moulded itself into something resembling a human. 

“Aww,” Viale cooed, feeling cocky, “it’s a little fire guy! Is this what you were talking about, Amicio?” Not hearing a response, Viale turned around to see Amicio had fled. He wasn’t surprised.

“Hey! My Stand, ｢Disco Inferno｣ , is not a “little guy”, it’s a very strong Stand!” Fuoco was beyond offended at this point. First, he came to this school and swooped up all of the ladies~ , then he insulted Fuoco’s very strong, very cool Stand! How dare he! “You’ll pay for that comment, Giovanna!” 

As Fuoco focused, more and more Infernos stepped out of the flame between his fingers. As Viale realised that it was another colony type Stand, he mentally admonished himself. Dozens and dozens piled on top of each other, more falling on top of each other in a massive miniature dogpile.

Before Viale knew it, he was being chased out of the room by around two hundred bite-sized fire Stands, who were all coughing up their own miniature fireballs and flinging them at him. He just barely managed to make it out of the pool area when he spotted Amicio, a safe distance away, just watching Viale get pummelled from behind. 

Viale didn’t have time to think about that, though. He decided it was time to fight back. “ ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣! ” He dove into the cement that lined the oval. Unfortunately, as Viale soon discovered, the ‘I get hurt when the surface is damaged’ weakness of his Stand extended to singe marks on the cement. He quickly found himself getting burned from his hiding place. Viale quickly ejected himself from the slab. He took a small amount of time to attempt to punch the little Stands, but quickly gave up as it would be a fool’s errand to try to defeat so many small targets. 

Meanwhile, in the boiler room, Fuoco was exerting himself more than he expected. His Stand required more brain power and focus the more Stands he created. He had an upper limit of six hundred and sixty-six Stands that he could produce; the implications that number presented were lost on Fuoco. It turns out that Amicio was merely around the corner while Disco Inferno chased Viale out. With his job seemingly done, he entered back into the room to ask Fuoco a question.

“Is- uh… is that all you need me for?” He asked meekly. Fuoco was on the ground in a meditative position, eyes glued to the match that was still burning on the ground in front of him. There was a constant stream of Infernos coming from the flame and sprinting out the door. He was sending them to aid in the defeat of Viale. 

“No, actually,” the seated boy said, “I need you to stay right… there…” 

As he trailed off, Amicio noticed the line of Stands marching out the door had split, and now there were a few Infernos aimed towards him. 

~~~

Viale had a problem.

Scratch that, he had hundreds of problems.

And they were all climbing up him, fast. Somehow, Viale had found himself cornered almost two-hundred metres away from the user, just near the north-east corner of the school. ‘ How big is this guy’s range? ’ Viale thought. The pain was immense, but Viale fancied himself quite tolerant of it. What he was mainly concerned about was the fact that he was wearing his brand new Gucci plain-white shirt. ‘ I gotta get these guys off me! ’

Viale hastily observed his surroundings. Luckily, everyone was supposed to be in class at the time, so he practically had free reign over where to go, as long as it wasn’t in sight of the classrooms. Finding nothing in his vicinity that would be able to help him get the Stands off him, he had a realisation. 

“The pool has water in it,” he said aloud. Viale would later chastise himself for not realising this sooner. He flung himself forward, returning back the way he came from. How silly was he? The boiler room was right next to the pool! It was obvious. But now he had to actually get there. Viale hoped his past sprinting training was enough for this.

~~~

“Woah– hey hey! What are you doing?!” Amicio did a little dance, attempting to brush off the sizzling Stands that were halfway up his leg. He’d been expecting a simple job: get Giovanna to the boiler room, and leave. That was all Esercito requested of him. But now, in this moment, he realised that he may have been too hasty in accepting the ‘request’. But he had no choice; the boy said he’d burn down the building if he didn’t do what he asked. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Tying up a loose end.” 

Amicio regretted a lot of things he’d done. He regretted taking orders from Zeppeli, he regretted using the arrow, but most of all, he regretted attacking Giovanna. But he couldn’t help himself. He’d done it again. He couldn’t stand for himself.

Or could he?

Because he wasn’t going to give up that easily. In his first fight, he knew Giovanna wasn’t going to kill him, or even seriously injure him – Zeppeli had said so. But this guy… he was in real danger.

Acting fast, he summoned his Stand, ｢Innervisions｣ , and let one of the many crumpled paper balls that made up his base Stand catch fire. It hurt like a bitch, but by some miracle, his gambit paid off as the Infernos instantly became more enamoured with the concept of lighting the paper on fire, rather than himself. This allowed him to abandon the doomed paper and turn heel out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Fuoco, who was busy trying to keep the match alight, only noticed that his Stand wasn’t doing what it was supposed to do after Amicio had already left. He grumbled, but carried on attacking his other target.

~~~

Viale had just made it to the pool when he noticed Amicio escaping the boiler room. He had no time to think, though, as the enemy was still hot (haha) on his tail. A few Infernos had been shaken off during his mad dash back across the oval, but the ones that remained were costing him his clothes’ value by the minute. Oh, and it was starting to hurt, too.

That didn’t matter, because he’d made it to the pool in time.

He was elated, but that elation slowly turned to confusion, then to horror. Viale looked on in shock as he found that the pool was completely void of any water. ‘ How? People were using the pool yesterday. They can’t have drained it this fast! ’ He could vividly remember walking past an in-use pool that morning as well.

Viale’s questions were quickly answered, as he peered into the empty pit. At the base of the structure were hundreds of Infernos, all cheering and chest-bumping each other.

‘ The bastard drained the entire goddamn pool! In like, five minutes! ’

That was it. He was defeated. The Infernos in the pool had noticed him and were beginning to climb out of the pool, melting holes in the tiles to use as footholds. He did what he could, even summoning Mr. Blue Sky again in an attempt to fend off the little devils, although that was quickly proving to be useless. Just as Viale was about to run away and get help–

FWOOSH!

–he was sprayed with a hose. Soaked, he turned to see Amicio at the nozzle, who turned his attention to the Infernos that were climbing the side of the pool. He quickly gave them the same treatment. They were safe, for now. 

“Amicio?” Viale questioned, his eyes squinting as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing. He was shocked that he’d come back for him, after Viale had all but put him in the hospital on his first day there. 

“How are you losing this fight?” Amicio questioned forcefully, “You kicked my ass, yet you’re falling to a bunch of little candles? What the hell, man?”

Viale was indignant, “Not that I’m not glad for the help, but didn’t I just see you running away too?” 

Amicio slightly recoiled from the observation. “Yeah,” he admitted, “I did. I also lured you to a trap.” Viale was about to respond, but he was cut off. “I also tried to hurt you before. But Giovanna, we need to get this guy, right now. No matter how.” Viale was still on the ground, so Amicio offered him a hand.

This time, Viale was visibly flabbergasted. When they first met, Viale thought he was a pretty cool guy, but that was quickly changed when he tried to do the whole killing thing. That wasn’t cool. Then, after Viale had soundly beat him, he was once again thrown for a loop, as the defeated Amicio was something else. But now, what was he seeing in front of him? It was a far-cry from the meek, order-taking boy he thought Amicio was. 

Viale took his hand. As he helped him up, Amicio smiled at Viale nervously. “Now, have you got any idea of how to beat this guy? Because this hose won’t reach.” 

Viale scratched his chin, and smiled wryly. “Yeah, I got something.”

~~~

Fuoco huffed as Amicio closed the door behind him again. “Why are you back? Want to die that badly?” He sneered. Amicio scoffed, and had his Stand, primarily made up of discarded chip packets this time, drop what looked like Viale’s unconscious body down next to him, face down. Fuoco looked down at Viale, then suspiciously back up at Amicio. “This is interesting, but didn’t you just extinguish my Stand?”

Amicio rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but that was just to get him to trust me. One clean knock on the head with my Stand was enough.” Amicio rounded the body. “You leave me alone, and I’ll let you walk away with this.”

Fuoco got up from his meditative position. He looked like he was considering it, but his sinister smile was a dead giveaway that he was only acting. “You know what? No.” This was obviously a trap, Fuoco thought. He didn’t know what he was planning, but he knew for a fact that Nemico wasn’t bright enough to come up with something solid enough to severely hurt him.

The two stood eye-to-eye, the tension rising through the roof, each man waiting for the other to move. Fuoco was confident, whereas Amicio was moments away from breaking his thin strand of composure. The moment lasted an eternity, but the first move would end up being made by Fuoco. Suddenly, and as fast as the first time, another match was lit, dropping as many Stands out of the flame as Fuoco could manage, without needing to focus. 

Amicio acted fast, sending his Stand to try to stomp out the fire, but Fuoco decided to get his own hands dirty and rammed into Amicio with his full body, sending him tumbling towards the wall next to the door. Innervisions put up a good fight, but the sheer number of Disco Infernos that Fuoco had sent towards Amicio was proving to be too much for just the one Innervision to handle. 

The fact that it was flammable was also not helping the fight. 

Disco Inferno had taken to climbing Innervisions like a fish to water. In an instant, the outer layer of the trash-Stand started to burn.

“You absolute dumbass, Nemico! My Stand is way more powerful than your literal garbage!” Fuoco taunted as he stood back up. ‘ It’s just too easy!’ he thought. Indeed, it seemed like that, but upon closer inspection, he noticed that Amicio was giggling. “What? What’s so funny?”

Amicio started laughing harder. That’s when Fuoco noticed that Amicio had moved so he was leaning again up against the door. Before he could stop him, his hand shot up and turned the doorknob, and the door swung outwards, causing Amicio to fall back, only to be caught by another Innervision that was waiting for him outside. It scooped him up, and slammed the door. 

Fuoco, confused, turned to see the discarded Stand, still on fire. That was when Fuoco realised that Viale’s body was gone, too. He’d figured out his mistake too late. 

His eyes widened marginally as he saw that the flaming Innervisions was made up of chip packets. He thought back to the chemistry class he never paid attention to, and remembered that most chip packets are primarily composed of polypropylene, which produces highly toxic smoke when burned. 

And the room was filled with it. 

He rushed at the door, yanking and abusing it, trying to get it open. ‘ Why isn’t it opening? There’s no lock! ’ 

Unbeknownst to him, Mr. Blue Sky’s fingertips were popping out where the ground met the door, holding it shut like a superpowered door stopper. Viale himself was in the floor, completely safe from the smoke. And even if he was outside, he was equipped with a torn-off sleeve of his precious shirt around his mouth and nose, acting like a makeshift mask. 

Fuoco was coughing and wheezing, but before he lost consciousness, he said one final sentence. “What did I do to deserve this?!”

Amicio opened the door, letting all of the smoke out at once. At the same time, Viale emerged from the floor. They both wore the same expression on their face: satisfaction.

~~~

｢Disco Inferno｣

Long-Ranged Stand

Stats:

Power: E

Speed: B

Range: A (200m)

Stamina: D

Precision: A

Potential: A

~~~

“Another one, Viale?”

Viale chuckled bashfully. He’d gone to get the principal so he could cover up Viale’s absence, as he usually did when there was a Stand fight. Esposito in turn called the Speedwagon Foundation to escort the newly minted Stand criminal off the premises. “Yeah, this one was tough. You might want to look at getting the oval un-burned.”

Esposito sighed in resignation. “Alright, let's get him out of here, boys.” He and the Foundation members that had been dispatched swiftly exited the scene, the recently suffocated Stand user on a stretcher in tow. They were assured that he was alive. 

Viale was about to head back to the dorms when Amicio tapped him on his shoulder. “Hey, Giov– Viale,” he corrected, “are we good now? Because I know I've kinda been a dick to you.”

Viale smiled, internally asking himself if attempted murder is considered a ‘dick move’. “Yeah, we’re good now.”

Amicio breathed a sigh of relief. “Great, because Rossi’s couch is not very homely.”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Master’s Academy Dormitory
Venice
Morning

It had been about a week since Viale and Amicio had faced off against Fuoco Esercito and the weird Stand-ghost kid. He’d been assured by Beneficci that the fiery one was no longer a threat and had been put in the Speedwagon Foundation-funded Stand prison, which Viale had many questions about. How were they sure they could keep in Stand users when Stands varied so heavily? Where is this prison? Is water wet? Viale decided to keep these thoughts to himself.

In other news, since the fight, Amicio moved back in with Viale and the tortoise. It was still pretty awkward. Amicio mostly kept to himself, feeling that he was walking on ice when he was around Viale, as if he were to trip and accidentally attack him. Viale thought it harmless, so he didn’t press. 

It was the weekend, so the two boys were just lounging around when something Amicio said bothered Viale. It was then when he realised he’d been using his Stand wrong the whole time. 

｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ was able to store objects in surfaces. He could put his phone inside his phone case, for example, and have only the case be visible. He knew that, as long as it was a different surface, being divided by a corner, he could fit multiple objects in one thing, like hiding a pencil in the other side of the case. 

So logic would dictate (or rather, Amicio would dictate) that if he got something with many sides, he’d be able to fit many things in one object. It helped that no matter the size difference, the object would cartoonishly squeeze itself down. 

That was when Polnareff piped up from inside the key.

“What if you got a twenty-sided dice?” He suggested, as he leaned on his palm resting on the gold alloy of the key.

Viale paused in disbelief, looking between Polnareff and Amicio. How had he not thought of that?

So that was the current mission: find a store in Venice that sells a d20.

It started in the city centre. The half an hour walk was worth it for the possibility of conducting the two boys’ new form of a science experiment. They asked around, walked around, and Google’d around. Viale suggested they check general stores and news agencies, but the search there fell flat.

One suggestion from Amicio was a magic shop. Viale raised an eyebrow at the proposal. 

“Haha, yeah, I went through a bit of a magic phase back in middle school.” That explained a lot. What he was surprised by was what Amicio next revealed. “That’s actually how Sana and I became friends.”

Viale was intrigued now. “Are you saying that Sana Rossi used to be big into magic tricks?” he deadpanned.

Amicio smiled. “I’d known her for a while before that,” he explained, “her dad and my dad are friends, so we met when we were kids, but we never talked until we both wound up in magic club. Oh yeah, don’t tell her I told you; she’s still embarrassed about it.”

That conversation made Viale’s day. If they didn’t manage to find a die, he wouldn’t even be disappointed. Fortunately, it wouldn’t come to that. Just after Viale learned of Sana’s dirty secret they arrived at the magic shop. It was nothing special, a large window at the front depicting various crystal balls and tarot cards. 

It was nestled among the winding canals and colourful buildings, and had a quaint air of mystery about it. A faded wooden sign above the door read ‘ La Bottega Magica ’ in elegant script, and as they stepped inside, the scent of old books and exotic spices filled their senses. The shelves were lined with curious objects: crystal balls, potions, spellbooks, and mysterious trinkets from distant lands. The shopkeeper, a wizened old lady with a twinkle in her eye, greeted them and warmly invited them in. The bell jingled as Viale pushed open the door. 

As they explored the shelves of La Bottega Magica, they caught a glimpse of a stooped old woman shuffling between the shelves, her long black dress sweeping the floor. She introduces herself as Signora Magia, the owner of the shop, and listens attentively as they describe their epic quest for a twenty-sided dice. “Ah, Necimo, I thought you’d left us for good.” she comments.

“Sorry I haven’t, Signora Magia, but I’m actually not here for myself today.” Viale could tell that Amicio was in his element here, being much more confident here compared to normally at school. “We’re looking for some dice – twenty-sided, if you have it.” 

With a knowing smile, she leads them to a dimly-lit corner of the shop where a velvet-lined box sits on a small table. With a flick of her wrist, she unlocked the box and presented them with a stunning array of dice in all shapes and sizes, each one glinting in the dim light. She explained the intricacies of each type of dice, from the standard six-sided dice to the elusive twenty-sided dice. Finally, she produces a beautifully crafted twenty-sided dice and lays it gently in the palm of our characters' hand, assuring them that it is, in fact, twenty-sided. 

As Viale and Amicio left La Bottega Magica with their newly acquired twenty-sided dice, they made their way through the bustling streets of Venice towards Accademia Magistrale. The blond couldn't help but fiddle with the dice in his pocket, admiring the intricate designs etched into its surface. Amicio rolled his eyes at his friend's fascination with the thought of being able to unlock a new way to use his Stand. 

The streets were teeming with people, and they had to navigate their way around gondolas and water taxis, making sure not to get caught up in the crowds. Finally, they arrived at the front gate of their school. 

~~~

‘ Why are they going into a magic shop? ’

This was one thought on Tuono Fulmine’s mind as he stalked the two boys. He wasn’t one to believe in superstitions, so the choice to enter La Bottega Magica surprised him. The only force of nature he believed in was… well, he wasn’t allowed to say.

Stands were funny things. He’d heard tales of one that could turn people into snails, one that required you to play a video game, and even one that could mimic any other Stand. ‘ Actually, that’s the one I’m concerned with, right now, ’ he thought. 

Tuono had been given a job. The, uh… his superiors…? Yeah, let’s go with that. His ‘superiors’ had told him to get the principal of Accademia Magistrale into an ‘accident’, and right now, Giovanna was his best shot at that, especially if he used his Stand to its fullest potential. 

He didn’t know why he’d been asked to do the deed, but he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to give that old bag a quick one-two on the chin. Hell, he didn’t even really want the payout, but, y’know, free money?

‘ Shit, ’ he cursed. He’d been daydreaming for so long that the two teenagers had already left. Luckily, they were just down the street, hopefully making their way back to school.

~~~

In the seclusion of their dorm room, the pair got to work. They sat on their own bed, Amicio nearly as curious as Viale. One by one, he started to put objects inside the different sides of the dice, carefully managing his Stand's ability to keep everything in place. It wasn't easy, but with each successful insertion, Viale grew more confident in his abilities.

Eventually, he managed to fill around seven sides of the dice with different objects, small trinkets like a pencil or eraser. Viale marvelled at the feat, feeling a sense of satisfaction and pride in his Stand's unique ability.

“This is so cool.” He announced. He woke up Polnareff with the slightly-too-loud proclamation, but wasn’t too mad when he found out what they’d accomplished. Again, it was Polnareff that asked the real questions.

“What’s the size limit?”

They’d started small, with the pencil again, working up through differently sharpened and worn pencils, to a freshly opened one, which fit. Viale pulled out his spare change from his pocket (he’d paid for the dice), and one by one inserted cents to full Euros. When that worked, they started going crazy with the thing.

Amicio suggested larger items like his empty school bag, which fitted, and Viale stuffed his entire comforter from his bed inside the barely twelve millimetres of the surface (they did get a ruler to measure it, and then put the ruler itself inside the dice itself).

Eventually, they got to the big things by their standards. Polnareff was surprised Viale hadn’t tried to go inside already, but Viale said that he’d already been inside of a coin already, so he didn’t bother. He did, however, try to fit his entire bed inside the five-side of the dice. That one didn’t go too well.

Viale had to call Esposito to ask for a replacement bed frame. 

“ Come on, Viale ,” he admonished over the phone, “ I know having a Stand is fun, but you gotta… ”

~~~

The school security was lax at best. All he had to do to get through the front office was tell them he was a past student. That only worked because, well, he was a past student. They didn’t really care all too much as to why he was there, but his quick-thinking excuse of “having nostalgia” worked like a charm.

Now, all he had to do was find Giovanna, and get his Stand up and running. In the meantime, he was handed a visitor’s pass and let on through. It had been three years; might as well see what’s changed. 

~~~

“ ...and that’s why you have to be aware of your surroundings when you’re experimenting with your Stand. ”

Viale breathed a sigh of relief as Esposito hung up. He thought he’d never get out of the lecture. This time, the sigh was in defeat. He’d realised that Amicio was getting off scot free because Viale had forgotten to mention his involvement to Esposito.

“That was quite the talking-to.” 

“No thanks to you,” Viale shot back. He stood up, frivolously itching and scratching his skull through his hair. “Nah,” he backpedalled, sighing shortly after, “I shouldn’t be mad at you.” He made his way back to his bed. 

But before he could make it, a knock was heard on their door. Viale groaned. He was already standing, so etiquette dictated he answer it.

Of course, behind the door was an enemy – one who had been watching them all day. He’d spotted them in the hustle and bustle of Venice, and remembered their profiles from the briefing that everyone had gotten a few weeks ago.

Luckily for Viale, his door had a peephole on it. He looked through it, saw someone he didn’t recognise, groaned again, and readied himself for yet another fight.

~~~

Tuono was having a great day.

He’d lucked out and found that Giovanna kid that the boss had told him and his associates about a few weeks back. Not only that, one of his allies was there too. While he wasn’t necessarily a target Tuono figured the boss would appreciate one less ‘problem’ he’d have to take care of later.

A little more about Tuono. He flunked out of Accademia Magistrale in ‘25 – goddamn principal and his rules of drug dealing… Then he’d been picked up off the streets by what would end up being his people. They understood how he felt. It was everything to him that school wasn’t: fun, united, and most importantly, fun. He’d been at it for a few years now; Venice was still quite active, even with Passione pushing up against their outer territories near Bologna. 

With joining the crew, he inherited the hatred for Passione that permeated out through the organisation. Because the Giovanna kid was a target, he’d taken it upon himself to eliminate him. He’d heard of his competence as a Stand user, but he paid no mind to the reputation he was gaining amongst newbies.

So there he was, boldly knocking on the kid’s door. He was confident – cocky, even. He had faith in his Stand. While the whole ‘Stand’ thing was new to him and a lot of others, he’d done jobs without it for way longer than people like Chubby and Checker. They were the real newbies, and Giovanna had put the fear of God into them.

However, it was not the time to be thinking about that, because Tuono noticed a set of technicolour arms phasing through the door in front of him. He feigned shock, but internally, it was going all according to plan.

~~~

Viale had Mr. Blue Sky reach through the door – not hiding, but phasing. Polnareff had told him that Stands could change their density and size like a slider in Photoshop, albeit with some effort. It took some practice, but of course Viale was able to nail it every time. 

Eventually, Mr. Blue Sky was far enough in the hall to reach, and therefore punch, the obvious enemy. Tuono summoned his Stand in response, a green, red and blue snake-looking Stand coiled around the man’s neck. The snake snapped out to defend its user from the vinyl-covered Stand. 

But it was too slow. Viale, still behind the door, but watching through Mr. Blue Sky ’s eyes saw this coming from a mile away and quickly dodged, keeping the momentum and pulling itself the whole way out of the door. Now unencumbered from being, you know, stuck in a door, Mr. Blue Sky quickly found its fist connected to the tresspasser’s face. Mr. Blue Sky watched the snake-Stand that was readying an attack abruptly fall out of existence. 

“That was easy,” Viale stated bemusedly as the man fell to the floor. He swung open the door, finding the man’s unconscious body splayed out on the floor in the hallway.

“What was easy?” Amicio asked from inside the dorm. 

Viale half-turned to have his face visible to his roommate. “Stand user. It only took one shot to knock him out.”

Amicio tsked offhandedly. “They don’t make them like they used to.”

Viale let out a short laugh. “Says you. You weren’t exactly competent.” Viale gave the body a once-over. “I’ll take him to Esposito – he’ll know what to do,” he said as he had his Stand heave the limp man over its shoulder.

“Why don’t you just call him?”

“He's already pissed at me. Might as well get the rest of the lecture over with when I’m there.”

Amicio shrugged as Viale left the room. He got up abruptly and walked over to the small hanging whiteboard that read ‘DAYS WITHOUT STAND USER’. He shook his head and erased the ‘six’ with his sleeve.

~~~

Tuono was definitely not knocked out, but he knew Giovanna was way too proud to check. The whole thing was going all according to plan. Giovanna would carry him all the way to Esposito, then he’d get them to fight to the death. The plan was foolproof. The only real downside that he didn’t see coming was that Giovanna’s Stand was so. Damn. Uncomfortable. He’d foreseen being needed to be carried, but surely Mr. Blue Sky would have some padding or something, he thought.

Luckily the front office wasn’t that far from the dormitories. All he had to do was wait.

~~~

｢Thunderstruck｣

Close-Ranged Stand

Stats:

Power: C

Speed: A

Range: D

Stamina: D

Precision: A

Potential: A

~~~

Accademia Magistrale
Staff Room

After getting off the phone with Viale, Esposito got up to clear his head. He decided that coffee would be the best bet for now. He got to thinking about how Viale had grown since arriving at the school. He was alone, the stale blue tabletops lined the room with half-drunk coffee mugs and ungraded assignments strewn across the room.

‘ Sure, he’s talented. Sure, he’s intelligent. But he’s too cocky. ’ he thought, ‘ His attitude during his fight against Fuoco was too careless. Whilst he came out on top, there’s no telling what would have happened to him had Nemico not been there to support him. ’

His thoughts were cut short when a colleague entered. It was Professor Teripio, the resident school therapist. He was old. Very old. Older than anyone not in-the-know about his situation would assume. But that was no discredit to his skills. He had many accolades, mostly stemming from the psychology field. Let’s just say the ‘Professor’ prefix was well earned. Not only that, but he was wise beyond his years. God only knew why he chose to work at Accademia Magistrale of all places.

He was dressed in old-timey professional clothes, with the homburg hat being rather iconic with the students that visited his office. He wore a grey three-piece suit that looked as if it were plucked right out of the 1910’s and dropped in modern day. He also used a derby-grip walking cane that looked as antique as the man holding it. 

“Professor. It is good to see you.” Esposito greeted. 

The fossil nodded shakily. “As are you. How goes your research?” 

“It’s not producing the results I had hoped, unfortunately.” Datore spoke with more dignity when in the presence of the man. Whilst technically he was his boss, Luigi Teripio was held in high regard by many people. 

“Fret not, young lad. Patience bears many fruits to those who deserve it, and you deserve it.”

“I appreciate the compliments.” 

Teripio waved him off. “Think nothing of it. After everything you and your family have done for the school – and the Foundation – you should be rewarded with much more than platitudes from myself.”

Datore decided to move on. “So, what can I fix you for?”

“Oh no, you mustn't trouble yourself with that.”

“I insist.”

Teripio shrugged stiffly and hobbled over to the brown leather couch that had been the subject of a fundraiser a few years back. He rested his hands on the handle of his cane and responded. “I’ve got my home-grown tea leaves in the commode over there.”

Datore paused. “Commode?” he questioned.

“Sorry, the drawers in the corner.”

“Ah.” He spotted the drawers. 

“I’m getting so forgetful in my old age. All of these new terms.”

“Not to worry, sir.”

“No, really. What even is a ‘boomer’?”

Datore was forty five himself, but even he cringed at the old man’s use of slang, however outdated it was in modern contexts. “I believe it refers to the ‘baby boomer’ generation, sir.”

He looked bemused, and even slightly offended. “How young do they think I am?” He shook his head. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Yeah well…” Datore trailed off. He was done making the tea. As he brought it over, careful to not spill it, he noticed the old man was looking out the window wistfully. He decided to enquire about his work, “How is progress with Miss Rossi?”

“Not enough, I’m afraid. My Stand seems to have little-to-no benefit in her situation.”

“She’s had it rough.”

“Those youngsters don’t know how good they’ve got it,” he noted, “We haven’t had a war in what, twenty-three years?” He paused. “I guess that’s a good thing, actually…”

“Yes, it is a good thing. I don’t want to see my students conscripted into a war they had no involvement, like you were.”

Luigi hummed in agreement.

“Well, I’d better get back to work.” He said as he turned to leave, but was interrupted by the old man, sipping his tea.

“You’ve left your tea.”

~~~

“Giovannna, why are you carrying someone over your shoulder?”

Viale swung around to see Esposito at the base of the stairs, as Viale was halfway up to Esposito’s office.

“Uhh, Stand user?” Viale replied dumbly.

Esposito sighed. “Alright, let’s get him upstairs. We’ll call it in from my office.”

As they made their way up, Tuono was sweating bullets. The entire plan hinged on whether or not he could pull this next bit off. 

What was even more difficult was keeping his composure in the face of the man that ruined his life. He hated Esposito more than he was able to give. Before he’d been kicked out, he actually respected Esposito, as much as any student would respect their leader. 

But the man had no respect for him in return, hell, he’d wager that Esposito didn’t even know who he was until it came out that Tuono was dealing drugs to primary schoolers. 

Viale and Esposito came to a stop when they got to the top of the staircase. 

“Let’s see the damage.”

“His Stand looks like some kind of snake, by the way. Pretty slow, if you ask me.” He paused. “Well, slower than me.”

Esposito internally rolled his eyes. “Did you get to see its ability?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I didn’t.”

Esposito turned back to the ‘unconscious’ man. “Wait a second, I recognise this guy–”

“You should fight him, Giovanna. To the death.”

The moment Viale heard Tuono say that, it became all that he could think about. Fight. Fight. Fight. Esposito whipped around to see that Viale had brought out Mr. Blue Sky instantly, the Stand’s face contorted in rage. 

Without taking his eyes off Viale, the frail principal spoke. “What did you do?!”

Tuono sat up, chuckling. “That’s my Stand. ｢Thunderstruck｣ . Because you so kindly asked. I call its ability ‘no turning back’, because it can make anyone commit to their current train of thought. Indefinitely.” The stand appeared, once again coiled around Tuono’s neck. Both him and Thunderstruck were now glowing a sickly shade of yellow. 

‘ Shit! I can’t fight an enraged Giovanna! ’ He thought. While he did think Viale was cocky, there was no denying he packed a punch. 

Tuono got up, rounded the room, and sat down in Esposito’s modest office chair. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to sit here and watch.” 

‘ I’m going to have to reveal my Stand! ’

Viale stepped forward. A deliberate move for intimidation. It worked as Esposito took a deliberate step back. Mr. Blue Sky moved, faster than the eye could see, only for it to stop just millimetres away from Esposito’s face.

Datore had left the Stand’s range by a hair. And it was very much on purpose.

“So it seems like you’re going to fight. Very well. Show me what you can do, Giovanna.”

Datore’s Stand aura flared to life, as if it had been sleeping for a long time. An almost heavenly white and grey spewed out of his body. Tuono, who had his feet up on Esposito’s desk and was eating grapes he found in a drawer, suddenly was way more interested in the fight. 

From Esposito’s chest, a majority of the Stand aura coalesced and compressed until it was formed into a spherical shape, three inches in diameter, with small indentations dotted all around the shape. It looked like a floating golf ball.

In fact, that’s exactly what it was. Just a golf ball, floating midair, doing nothing. 

“That,” Tuono began, “Has got to be the most anticlimactic Stand reveal ever.”

Esposito shot him a hateful glare, then smirked as he called out the Stand’s name.

“｢Electric Boogaloo｣!!”

As soon as he said that, the ball-shaped Stand grew. It moulded itself up and down, and a bit out, and changed colour to be a majority blue. It moulded into a humanoid figure, with camera lenses for eyes, a speaker for a mouth, and microphones for ears. On its torso, a vinyl record appeared. It was a one-to-one copy of Mr. Blue Sky .

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve been in a fight of my own. Let’s see if I aged like milk, or like wine. Electric Boogaloo !”

Electric Boogaloo shot out and nailed Mr. Blue Sky in the stomach, in turn making Viale wheeze. He quickly recovered with a swipe to the legs that knocked over Datore. Datore used the momentum to sink into the floor at a rapid speed, leaving Electric Boogaloo to fight in his stead.

Internally, Esposito was calm. ‘ I’ve read Polnareff’s notes on how Viale fights. This shouldn’t be too hard if I play my– I mean, his cards right. ’

Through Electric Boogaloo ’s eyes, he saw Viale had jumped forwards, causing Datore to be within the Stand’s range for when he inevitably had to come back up for air. 

In the meantime, Datore sent forward his Stand to try and halt Viale in his tracks. 

“MORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA!”

Viale responded with his own Stand rush, causing shockwaves to emanate from the two identical fists colliding. Esposito was struggling. Viale was way more adept with his Stand, not to mention he had been fighting battles since he got here. He wouldn’t be winning this fight with brute strength.

Meanwhile Viale had aggressively walked over to the spot Esposito had popped down into the floor, and was cocking back his Stand’s fists for another barrage. 

Acting quickly, Esposito sent Electric Boogaloo to catch the fist so he could escape unharmed. 

Esposito’s Stand was weird. It could copy any Stand it sees, but once it copies, it adapts the duplicated Stand’s stats too. So although the initial Electric Boogaloo had quite a large range, Mr. Blue Sky didn’t. But estimating range can only get you so far. He needed to end this. Fast.

But first, a bit of information. Through Electric Boogaloo ’s newly formed mouth, Esposito yelled out, “So is this all your Stand can do?”

Tuono’s eyes snapped open. He was about to doze off, but the taunt brought him back into the fight. “Ha! Of course not, idiot. Who do you think I am?!”

“I remember you, you know,” Esposito revealed, “Lazy kid who got caught dealing.” Tuono’s eye twitched. “It was a shame, actually. I met with your parents afterwards. They were very disappointed.”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK! MY PARENTS LOVED ME!” He shot up from his lounging position, and Thunderstruck began hissing like the snake it is.

Esposito was juggling fighting Viale at the same time. He knocked Viale back so he could take a breath a couple of times, but it was time for Esposito’s gambit.

After a final hard fought pushback, Esposito surfaced. When he was clear of the ground, he had Electric Boogaloo change shape. In a flash, it had diminished from its humanoid form into a longer, lithe one, and coiled around Esposito’s neck. 

“You should disable your Stand.” 

And once he said that, it was all Tuono could think about. Thunderstruck slithered back into his mind, and Viale’s face snapped back to its usual emotive state. Once Tuono had realised what had just happened, he started slowly backing away.

“I am a firm believer in the quote ‘knowledge itself is power’.” Esposito stated. Viale was looking around, disorientated. “And once I knew that was all your Stand could do, I knew there was no danger in using your own Stand against you.”

Viale and Tuono’s eyes locked. Viale tilted his head. They were having a conversation internally.

“I’ll let you take care of this, Giovanna.” 

“Thank you, sir, but I actually thought we could go by this a little… differently.”

Tuono squeaked.

“I like that idea.”

“MORARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA!”

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

Master’s Academy
Venice
Morning

Viale hesitated when he got to the door. 

It wasn’t anything special. The door itself wasn’t intimidating. Sure the doorknob could use some cleaning, but that wasn’t what he was afraid of worried about.

It was what was in the middle and behind the door. In the middle of the door was a plaque that read ‘Luigi Teripio’, and behind the door was presumably the man with that name.

“ It will be good for you, ” Esposito had said. Viale scoffed internally. ‘ Yeah, as if. The only good this will do is waste my time, ’ he thought.

He steeled himself. Esposito had made him promise he’d see this through, and Viale did fancy himself something of a reliable guy. Reliable enough to go to therapy, or something. Viale hummed, and banished the flawed reasoning from his mind. 

It was time to therapise.

Without stopping to ask himself if ‘therapise’ was a word, he knocked on the door. A set of wobbly footsteps responded. ‘ Great, a geezer, ’ Viale thought, ‘ too late now. ’

The door opened. Viale’s assertion was correct. The man was old. Old-old. Queen Elizabeth II-old. 

“Mr. Giovanna, please come in. I’ve been expecting you.” He beckoned Viale in. He hesitated. “There’s no need to worry, I don’t bite.”

"I doubt those dentures could do any real damage," Viale responded off-handedly, as if it were second nature.

The man replied in youthful laughter, “Haha! Yes, very funny! What quick wit you have!”

Viale raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, I guess?” He finally ventured through the door. Inside, he found what you’d expect a therapist’s office to look like. Calming, rustic style, oak furniture. The typical therapist couch was across the right wall, a table in the middle with a few books on it, and a lounge chair on the left. It was a thin and long room, being only a few paces wide. A desk sat in the far side, overlooking the two chairs and tables. Above it, a diamond-shaped window, giving view to the rather bad storm that was brewing.

The most interesting thing – or things – in the room were the hundreds upon hundreds of books littering every free space of wall in the room – even on top of the window sill. Bookshelves had replaced the common man’s wall in this room. Books ranging from every topic: politics, modern warfare, mathematics, physics, chemistry, children’s books, and even psychology. That last one seemed like the only relevant one.

“Yours is the face most have when first entering my office.” Viale almost forgot about the man himself, who’d made his way past Viale and through to his comfy chair. Viale shook the shock off his expression and slowly walked towards the empty couch.

“Nice place. Is this your couch?”

He shook his head in the negatory. “A great man gave that to me a long time ago.”

Viale examined the couch. It didn’t seem that old. Sure, there were a few screws loose, a symptom that seemingly afflicted the chair's owner.

“Let us get to it, shall we?” The man’s eyes shone with wisdom that would be expected from one that elderly. Luigi sat down, hands resting on his cane

“What am I in for, Doc?” Viale sat too.

He grimaced and shook his head, “Nothing good, my friend. A bad case of repression.”

A raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he questioned, “you’ve been involved in numerous fights, seen much gore, and have sustained serious injuries. These things tend to have an adverse effect on the psyche.”

“What, like PTSD? Please, give me a break, Doc. I’ve won all of my fights.”

“That’s not the point,” he sighed, “If you would please lie down, and we can begin.

Viale shook his head dismissively and lay down. As he did so, he felt his mind wander back, back to a different time.

~~~ 

Gio was six years old. The year was 2018. MeToo was in full swing, Giuseppe Conte had just been elected Prime Minister, Morandi Bridge collapsed in Genoa, 43 people were killed. 

And in lesser-known news, Giorno Giovanna returned to Italy with his family. The United States was quite the place, but home was home for Giorno Giovanna. 

The three had just touched down. Their own private jet, of course. Giorno Giovanna spared no expense. He had made the right call appointing Fugo underboss while he made calls in America.

Phone calls were a common occurrence in the Giovanna’s household. Washington is 6 hours behind Italy due to timezones, so six-in-the-morning conference meetings were the norm.

The ‘break’, as Giorno called it, was set aside so he and Grace could raise Gioviale properly, but more times than often, it was Grace doing the raising. Giorno regrettably had mere brief encounters with his son.

At the airport, his mother walked a few paces behind his father, Gioviale followed closely behind his mother, and was surrounded by numerous men in black. Gioviale did not understand why there was a posse nearby at all times.

“Why are these people always around us?” he asked his mother in a brisk walk to keep up with the longer-legged adults.

Grace pondered how to explain this to a six year old. “Your father is an important man, Gioviale. These people are here to protect him, and us.”

The memory faded to white, and returned in a scuffle. The airport was in quite the rush, with people crying out and running around.

Gioviale once again did not understand. The men were gone, his mother was chaperoning him into the bathroom. Somehow, he heard people talking over all of the hustle and bustle.

“You rui–d me, Giov—a!” It was a woman’s voice. He heard his father’s next.

“Y–u ru–ned your–lf, fool.”

It was hard to hear, and his mother ushered him through a door. Before the door closed, Gioviale heard a few splats, and caught a glimpse of the woman–

~~~

Viale sat up with a start, ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ appearing on instinct at the same time thunder rumbled outside.

“Calm down, son.” He whipped around, expecting someone different to be calling him son, but it was just the good doctor. “Disorientation is quite common.”

Viale held his head. “What did you do to me?!” Mr. Blue Sky looked around alarmed, standing behind the user with quiet vigilance.

“I have no idea what you saw,” the passé man responded sagely, “an unfortunate downside to my ability.”

Viale groaned, his Stand disappeared once it was sure there was no threat. “Another Stand user? I just can’t catch a break.”

“I assure you, I am no enemy. I have only the best of intentions.”

Viale glared. “Alright then, show me your Stand.”

Teripio shrugged lethargically. A bright light shone from behind him, a small rainbow appearing with a cartoon sun climbing up it. Both sides of the rainbow ended in fluffy clouds, and the sun’s rays had an antenna protruding from it. 

“This is my Stand, ｢What A Wonderful World｣ ,” he exclaimed with a small amount of pride in his voice, “It is very helpful, if I do say so myself.”

Viale was still cautious. “What exactly is your game here?”

Teripio exhaled. “As I was saying before, my theory is that you aren’t acknowledging what you’re really feeling.”

“What makes you say that?” It was not a question, but an inquisition – a challenge.

Teripio took him up on the challenge. He adjusted himself in the chair, pulling his sleeves further up. He moved to get a book from the table in front of him.

“Sigmund Freud. Born on the sixth day of May, in the year eighteen-fifty-six, died on the twenty-third day of September, nineteen-thirty-nine. He was a pioneer in his field of psychometrics and the mind. He wrote this book,” he showed the book in his hand, “‘The Interpretation of Dreams’.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of him.” Viale turned away from the door as his curiosity was tickled. Why was he bringing up Freud, he asked himself.

“He was a good friend of mine, in fact he gave me that chaise longue you were sitting on.”

Viale paused as he was about to fall into the chair, but rather slowly lowered himself onto it, both out of respect for the dead, and the fact that he might break it.

“You said he died in nineteen-thirty-nine; how were you friends with him? You shouldn’t have been alive too long before he died.”

The man chuckled. It seemed like Viale had caught his slip. “I assure you, I’m older than I look.” He shook his head, “But let us get back on track. Freud believed that memories of traumatic events could be repressed into the unconscious. While you might remember your recent Stand battles, I have it on good authority that you have been involved in this world much longer than you think.”

Viale recalled the memory that What a Wonderful World had dug up. Maybe the geriatric had a point. He’d learned that his father had been operating as a Stand user for many years before his conception. 

“Furthermore, I believe that this, along with your paternal relationship complexities, has evolved into some rather obvious defence mechanisms. Notably when I answered the door, you hid your discomfort with a joke.”

Viale narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I have daddy issues?” he accused.

He paused before nodding. “Well, yes, I guess I am. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I myself didn’t have the best relationship with my father.”

Viale stood up again, this time in mild outrage. “Get serious, Doc. I barely know my dad, and we’ve been talking more recently! I called him the other day.”

He hummed, “That may be the case. I congratulate you for taking that step without help. However, the issue may be more underlying than that. May I ask, what did you see when I used my Stand on you.”

Viale stood for a few more seconds. “I saw… an airport. I was young, maybe six or seven. I was with my mother. Father was there, with his… bodyguards, I guess you’d call them?” He sat back down. “Then it skipped forward. Father and some other woman were arguing. I think she was a Stand user.” He lay down fully. “Hey… I have a question. How does your Stand work?”

Teripio hesitated to answer. “I can make a relevant random memory bubble to the surface of your consciousness. More often than not, they will be memories you’ve forgotten.”

Viale absorbed the information. “Any time limit?”

“No, no, just a willingness to remember.”

Viale braced. “Give me another one.”

Luigi raised an eyebrow. People didn’t tend to ask to be put under the effect of a Stand. He conceded. “Very well. What a Wonderful World !”

Viale saw the Stand’s bright light before he fell in.

~~~

Viale was thirteen years old. The year was 2025. The Renewable Energy Act 2025 had been passed in the Italian congress, Giorgia Meloni wass halfway through her term. 

The Giovanna family was back home in Naples. 

Viale had just graduated primary school, and was moving to Lower Secondary school. His mother was delivering him for the first day – he was going to have to walk with a bodyguard from then on. 

They stood outside the front gates.

“Papa has gotten the best for you, Gioviale. No acting up, you hear me?”

The younger Viale frowned. “I keep telling you, he started it!”

“Uh uh uh~” she interrupted. She got down to his level. “The problem isn’t that he started it, it’s that you continued it. No more hitting, okay?”

He grumbled, “Okay…”

The memory faded to white, and returned in a scuffle. There was a big crowd. Viale had taken a few good hits, and the other kid was much worse for wear. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the other kids chanted. 

At this point Viale was the tallest in his class. His blond hair was scruffy and messy from the exertion. He was about to go back in for a few more hits but a loud deep voice interrupted him.

“What is going on here?!”

A second fade. He reappeared in the principal’s office, a multitude of clocks lining the walls and desk.

“Do you know why you’re here, Mister Giovanna?” the portly principal asked.

Viale gave him the silent treatment.

“Not even past recess on your first day and you’re already causing trouble. If it were up to me, I’d send you away and never look back.” he sighed, “Unfortunately, your father is an important man, so I’m only going to send you home.”

Viale rolled his eyes. “So my mama is going to come get me? One of the bodyguards?”

The door flung open. Giorno Giovanna stood in the doorway, boring a hole into the back of Gioviale’s head. Viale, suddenly stricken with fear, slowly turned his head to face his father.

They didn’t speak. They never did. Giorno Giovanna, at least to his son, was a man of few words. 

Almost imperceptibly, at the sight of Viale’s look, his own eyes softened. 

“Gioviale. Come with me.” He turned to the principal. “Thank you for contacting me.”

~~~

This time, Viale wasn’t disorientated. Rather he ‘woke’ with a small start. He groaned and rubbed his forehead as he heard thunder grumble once again. A glass of water appeared in his vision, What a Wonderful World ’s hand holding it steadily.

“Thirsty?” the crusty voice beside him asked. He graciously took it, and sculled it down. “I don’t mean to rush you, but what did you see?”

He topped off the water and set it down on the table. Blood rushed from his head as he sat up. “I saw my first day of Lower Second. I got into a fight.”

Teripio scribbled something down in his notebook. “Did this happen often?”

“Yeah, at least once a week, before then.” He leaned back. “It was usually mama or one of our bodyguards that would come and get me. But this time,” he paused, “this time it was the Boss himself.”

“Tell me about that.”

His face scrunched up. “He never—” he hesitated, trying to put the feelings into words, “he was never my father— my papa. He was always the Boss.”

“The Boss? Of what?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know he was a mafioso at the time,” he clarified, “I just know he was “The Boss” of something. That’s what Uncle Guido called him.”

Teripio cleared his throat. “I think I am starting to get the picture. Feel free to interrupt if I am wrong.” He flipped back to a prior page in his notebook. “Your father, Don Giovanna, paid little to no attention to you, so you acted out by starting fights in school. But eventually, you got his attention, and it was not what you wanted. Is that right?”

Viale considered the conjecture. “I think by then I didn’t want his attention — by Lower Second. But I still got it? I don’t know, Doc.”

“Then maybe what happened was you started fights to get his attention, but you discovered you liked fighting, so you kept going. You said it yourself, that you expected your mama or your bodyguards to come get you.”

Viale let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that seems about right.” He thought a bit more, “I haven’t exactly been adverse to Stand fights since I got here.”

“Well you do have quite the tendency for battle.”

Viale chuckled again. “So what now, Doc? Do you have any advice?”

He tapped this pencil on his notebook. “Stay true to yourself. Fate has a funny way of resolving things.” He stood up slowly, and hobbled over to his desk. Inside one of the drawers, he fetched a tin. 

Luigi approached Viale, and said, “Do you want a cookie? I have chocolate chip.”

~~~

Stepping outside the office, Viale felt way lighter than normal. Sure, there were some things to work out, but that was to think about after knocking off the amazing baking skills of the old man.

“I gotta say, Doc, I owe Esposito a thanks,” he said after stuffing his face with as many cookies as he could fit, “I might come back just for a top up on biscuits.”

The old man let out a hearty laugh. “Come back any time, my friend.”

Viale turned to face the hallway, but before he could bid his new acquaintance farewell, he noticed someone standing at the far end of the hallway.

‘ That’s…! ’

It was the woman from the Giovanna family’s past. The woman from the airport. And it looked like she was back for round two.

~~~

Viale heard the thunder crackle outside. Now that he thought about it, it was thundering all throughout his session with the Good Doctor. As he listened, he dared not move, as a ghost from his family’s past was standing not ten metres away. 

He could only watch. He knew she was a Stand user. He’d just revisited the memory of her fighting his father not thirty minutes ago. 

‘ What was it? ’ he thought, ‘ I know there has got to be some clue in that memory. ’

“So Giovanna’s brat does go here. You must be Viale,” the woman declared, “My name… is unimportant. I know your father.” 

She said it so casually that Viale nearly forgot that she was most likely there to kill him. Viale took the time to examine the woman

She was around her early forties. She had shaggy brown hair down to her shoulders, eyes covered with a Gucci pair of sunglasses. On her lapel was a golden skull and crossbones. She had a similarly styled umbrella at her hip, with some skull engravings around the handle. The rest of her looked well prepped for the storm outside, with a saggy poncho still on, despite being inside. 

“You’ve grown since I last saw you,” she stated as she started moving towards him, “your father was very… important to me.”

“Cut the shit,” Viale interrupted, “Get to the point. I know why you’re here.”

“Hmph. You aren’t as much like Giorno as I expected. You look like him,” she gave him a once over, “but you sure don’t act like him.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now leave before things get messy.”

Viale knew his golden Stand aura was flaring up, but he kept a lid on Mr. Blue Sky for now. 

“You’re a feisty one! I like that. But believe it or not, I’m here on official business, and my boss and I have an appointment with your principal, so step aside.”

She clutched her umbrella tight. Viale could faintly see her own purple Stand aura wisping off her. 

‘ Think, Viale! What was wrong with that memory?! I was with my mum, and my dad, and we were going through the airport! Our bodyguards were watching over— ’ his thoughts paused, ‘ our guards. Where did they go? ’

She stepped closer. 

‘ That has to be it. I heard splats, like a meatloaf hitting the pavement. And where were the guards? ’ Mr. Blue Sky materialised in defence of Viale, facing the slowly approaching woman. ‘ Splats, guards, splats, guards— ’

She opened her umbrella, pointed towards her adversary. 

“｢It’s Raining Men｣.”

~~~

The first thing he felt was his hair going wild in every direction. ‘ Damn, ’ he thought, ‘ It will take ages for me to get that back down. ’

The first thing he heard was wind rushing past his ears.

The first thing he saw was a blue sky, uninterrupted by clouds. ‘ That’s odd. Wasn’t it thunderstorming? ’

His thoughts were cut short, as the second thing he felt was that it was really goddamn cold . 

‘ Where am I? ’

His questions were answered as he began being pelted from below by tiny ice droplets. A loud BOOM indicated his predicament.

Gioviale Giovanna was falling through the thunderstorm.

To Be Continued ===>

Chapter Text

20 kilometres up
Venice
Midday

𝅘𝅥𝅮 - It’s Raining Men by The Weather Girls

Viale was, of course, panicking. Thunder and lightning coalesced in front of him. It was a deafening and blinding cacophony of lights and noise. 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT?!”

He was breathing at an alarming rate, both trying to catch the air as he fell past it, as well as the lack of oxygen this high up. 

His panic was short lived, as he quickly steeled himself. 

He managed to flip himself around so he was facing the way gravity was pulling him. He recalled that cumulonimbus clouds typically sat at around twenty thousand metres away from the earth’s surface, and judging that he was wet, freezing, and damn near suffocating, he had around a minute to figure out how the hell he was going to avoid becoming a Viale-shaped puddle on the pavement. 

He started by pulling out his 20-sided die. There should be something in here that could help him out.

Mannequin? No. Air horn? Maybe if he was on the ground, he could use it to get some help. Teddy bear? No, but keep it, just in case. Sleeping bag and a length of rope? Now that’s something he could use.

He brought out ｢Mr. Blue Sky｣ and had him rip a few holes in the now unzipped sleeping bag, and thread the rope through. 

By the time he was done, fifteen seconds were gone, and he had a barely-functioning parachute. It was slowing him a small margin, but parachutes are made out of canvas, kevlar, and nylon, while the sleeping bag was made out of polyester.

The sleeping bag was quickly falling apart, and Viale’s momentum was slowly building again. 

“Shitshitshitshitfuckshit—”

As the rope fell out of the makeshift parachute, the knapsack was falling slower than Viale, despite being larger.

‘ That’s right! ’ he thought as he began freefalling again, ‘ Things with more surface area fall slower! Like a kilogram of rocks versus a kilogram of feathers! The rocks fall faster, not because they’re heavier, but because feathers catch air more! ’

Unfortunately for the falling man, this logic prevented him from reclaiming the sleeping bag that was flying away from him. He swore aloud, as that was his only large-surface item.

‘ I do have a set of spare clothes, but they’d just get wet and weigh me down .’

As he turned his attention to the rapidly approaching surface of Earth, he quickly found Accademia Magistrale, its large open fields and swimming pool easily visible with Mr. Blue Sky ’s enhanced eyesight. 

‘ The pool! I could just fall into the pool and have my Stand take the force. ’

He’d already considered just using his Stand to enter one of the thousands of rain drops around him, but he wouldn’t survive that.

Surfaces Viale entered acted as his body when he was inside of them. If the surface broke, Viale did too. If he were to go through with that plan, the second he hit the ground, he’d be shattered into a million pieces. 

The ground was approaching fast. He needed a solution. 

What falls slowly? Something light, like a feather. But no, birds were hiding from the rain, so that wasn’t an option—

Wait a minute.

‘ Can I… do that? Can I enter something so small? ’

Nearly one hundred metres from the ground, Viale experimented. He grabbed the item in question, and tried to enter it with Mr. Blue Sky .

~~~

“What a great day to be alive.” 

Maria Pioggia was living the high life. She was promoted to a personal guard of the Boss, she’d gotten revenge on Giorno Giovanna by presumably killing his oh-so-precious son. 

Maria had a difficult life – a tough childhood. She never had much as a kid. Sure, she had loving parents, stability, a mansion, and a thriving shoe manufacturing empire to inherit. Useless crap like that. But then, in her late teens, she got her Stand. 

Giorno Giovanna was the only person in the world to survive ｢It’s Raining Men｣ , and that was by turning all of his clothes into five goddamn harpy eagles, which were able to stop his descent before he hit the roof of the airport. She then, predictably, had her ass handed to her.

She held that grudge for years, until about a minute ago, when she sent Gioviale Giovanna into the upper atmosphere. 

Right now, she was just waiting for Viale to land. Maria had been doing this whole song and dance for about thirteen years by that point – she knew how people tried to get around her ability. So she watched the pool. The wind made it choppy, choppy enough, she assumed, to break the fall of someone falling from a really high place.

So she waited.

And waited.

Before…

SPLASH!

She shot up from her leaning position, and jumped out the window, using her Stand to glide down to the pool.

She landed to see a figure floating on the surface of the water, and from the looks of it, it was Giovanna. It even had his clothes, and a body shape that suggested it definitely wasn’t just a bundle of rags.

She approached triumphantly and got out her phone. After a few clicks, someone answered.

“Yeah, Boss, yeah he’s dead. I’m looking at his corpse. Dead on impact with the water. Yeah. Yeah okay. See you soon.”

“You BITCH !”

Maria whipped her head around at the sound of the voice. But she didn’t see its source. Was she just hearing things?

“This is your conscience, and you’ve screwed up.” She frantically looked around and readied her umbrella. “It’s raining; why aren’t you using your umbrella, I wonder?”

She lunged her umbrella in a random direction – where she thought the sound was coming from, but only hit air.

“You really have no clue. Did you even research me before getting here?”

“Who are you?!” she yelled. A million thoughts were going through her head. ‘ Is it Giovanna? It couldn’t be, he’s dead in the water! Does he have allies? ’

“I told you, I’m your conscience, and as your conscience, I say you’re a horrible person.” A technicolour arm shot off her shoulder, appearing as if it came out of nowhere. It punched her smack-bang in the face, with enough force to send her flying.

From nothing, Viale Giovanna manifested, visibly angry and defiant.

“I used Mr. Blue Sky to hide inside one of my own hairs, which falls really slowly and has high tensile strength.” He was still breathing hard – a result of falling six kilometres. “I used a mannequin and my spare clothes to make it look like I landed in the pool.”

Maria hit the floor, recovering quickly. “YOU CREEP!” Her hand moved to her umbrella, a few paces away from her on the ground.

But Viale was faster, sending out his Stand to mercilessly stomp on said item.

“That’s your Stand, isn’t it?” Mr. Blue Sky ’s foot landed on the umbrella’s shaft, and Maria cried out in pain as she was slammed to the ground by the equivalent force.

“You– you’re just like your father. You’re a fake and a fraud!” she cried out in raspy breaths, pinned to the ground by her connection to her Stand.

Viale commanded Mr. Blue Sky to stop, freeing the umbrella, and in turn, Maria. She felt the weight be lifted off her. Seeing her opportunity she reached out and managed to grab hold of her Stand.

“ It’s Raining M – gah!” She was cut off by a fist to the mouth. A real one. Viale’s fist. Not his Stand’s. His jab hit dead-on, knocking at least two teeth down into her mouth. He followed up quickly with a left hook, causing her to spit blood. He grappled around her neck to knee her in the stomach, her skull-and-crossbones pin flying off her. This left her winded and discombobulated, but still she tried to open the umbrella-Stand.

Viale responded by ripping the Stand out of her hands, and snapping it across his knee. He managed to break a few of the ‘ribs’ of the Stand, translating into three or four broken ribs in the user.

As she tried to stand up, he proceeded to whack Maria over the head as hard as he could with her own Stand, resulting in another broken rib, and a passed out woman.

As he dropped the quickly fading Stand, he found himself stumbling over himself. “I’m so tired.”

He decided a rest was in order, so he sat down, on the soggy ground, and let the rain wash over him. His ragged breathing slowly turned more composed.

He sat there for a while, arms crossed over his knees, and contemplated everything that had happened that day.

Therapy, remembering things he’d forgotten, remembering his younger self’s talent for fighting, and just now, revelling in relief. Not victory, relief.

His golden locks ran down his face alongside the rain. His favourite weather was rain.

But he could not help but wish for the blue skies.

~~~