𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ⚠︎ 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧⚠︎

❤︎𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧❤︎

"We thought the same thing," The older man said. "We thought maybe that someone might have overlayed more footage on top of this, but we were proven wrong."

"We?" Giorno said. "You keep saying we."

"I took Abbachio with me," He said, making Giorno's bright green eyes widen. "He used Moody Blues and looked back at the same time stamped on the footage. It lined up. She was talking to it."

"You mean.." Giorno dropped the photos and collapsed on the bed.

Bucciarati nodded. "Y/n has a stand. Her stand healed her injuries and brought her new clothing. Whatever it's abilities is, we now know that she's not who we thought."

"You think she's a threat?" Giorno asked quickly, staring up at the capo with a shocked expression.

"I can't say she isn't." He responded. "Those stand attacks were targeted at her. They never tried to kill us unless we got in their way."

"So you think that she..ran away..because someone tried to kill her?"

"I'll tell you what I think," Bucciarati said. "I think that Y/n L/n is not her real name. I think that Y/n is a stand user. I think that Y/n is being hunted down because of the things she did. I think that's why Y/n ended up in that apartment where we first met. She told us she was able to handle herself. She lied to us and told us she didn't have a stand."

"Why?" Giorno asked voice strained. He raised his head to look at Bucciarati. "Why would she lie to us?"

"I don't know," The man said. "But we need to find out before it's too late."

..

Giorno grabbed the ends of the tarp, his hold lingering for a minute before he pulled it off the large canvas. The dust that had gathered over the past week flung into the air, making Giorno step back and wave his hand over his face. When the dust settled and he looked up at the canvas, he immediately froze in place. It was the painting Y/n had been working on when he had talked to her a few weeks ago. It was almost done now.

Bucciarati sat in the only chair with his head propped up on one of his hands. His legs were crossed over one another, and he was grinning. Fugo was leaning against the right side, his back to the side of the chair with a straight face. Abbachio was kneeling on the left side, a small frown on his face. Giorno was behind him, his hand on the back of the chair with a smile. Trish was behind Bucciarati, her arms on his shoulders as she leaned behind on him. Mista was beside her, arms crossed over his chest with a crooked smirk. Narancia was leaning against Mista, one arm on Mista's shoulder with a bright, closed-eyed smile.

Giorno barely registered the tarp hitting the ground as he fought back tears.

Y/n was sitting in front of Bucciarati, one knee pulled up, the other extended out in front of her. Her hands were behind her and she had a smirk on her lips. Some h/c strands fell over her e/c eyes, and she was holding a piece of paper.

Giorno leaned forward to see it closer, instantly recognizing the words written in neat cursive.

Famiglia.

He dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shook. Tears raced down his cheeks as he cried, trying to muffle the whimpers and sniffles coming from him. He ignored the door opening and the soft click of heels walking to him. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he pulled into a chest.

"Giorno," He didn't respond. "There are people here that want to see you. They say they know Y/n." Trish said, placing a hand on the top of his head.

"I don't care," He sniffled.

"Giorno," Trish pleaded. "They may know something!"

"Then go talk to them," He snapped.

"You need to," She said firmly, standing up and using Spice Girl to lift him up onto his feet. Trish grabbed his collar. 'Y/n is your best friend. You trust her and she trusts you. So get your ass in there and talk to them. Now." 

"I-"

"Giorno Giovanna I swear to god if you don't get in there right this minute, I will beat the fuck out of you." She hissed. Giorno swallowed. He hesitated before walking to the door. He walked down the hall after Trish, wiping the remaining tears in his eyes. When he walked into the living room, two men were standing in the middle of the room. 

The one that stood out the most was the giant man. He was taller than each of them, with black hair that seemed to fade into the white hat he wore. He wore a white coat and pants, with a black turtle neck shirt underneath and black shoes. He was facing a shorter man with red hair and a single red curl that hung by his eye. He wore a black coat and dark jeans, with a dark green shirt and he had identical scars over his eyes. 

"Giorno," Mista said as the blonde entered. 

"This is Jotaro Kujo and Noriaki Kakyoin," Trish explained, stepping to the side. "They claim to be old friends of Y/n."

"Y/n told us she had no friends or family left when we first met her." Bucciarati said. "How can we trust you?"

Kakyoin slipped a hand into his pocket before retrieveing a photograph. He held it out to Giorno. "Does this prove it to you?"

The photo was of the two of them, maybe when they were younger, and between them, one arm on each of their shoulders was Y/n. Giorno didn't have a doubt it was her. He raised his head back to the two men. 

"Why are you here? Y/n is gone." He handed the picture back to Kakyoin. 

"We know," Jotaro said. "She came to us."

"What? She's with you?" Trish asked quickly.

Kakyoin shook his head. "Not anymore. She came to Japan unannounced and found us. 'As old friends' she said."

"You're lying." Giorno said. "That picture was timestamped in 1990. Y/n is only nineteen. She looks the same age."

"Yare yare," Jotaro sighed, pulling his hat down. "You don't know anything about her, do you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Abbachio snapped. glaring at the tall man. 

"What Jotaro is trying to say," Kakyoin intervened. "Is that Y/n hasn't told you much about her past, has she?"

"No," Giorno frowned. 

"We always though it might haven been too traumatic for her to talk about," Trish said quietly, placing her hands on her chest. 

"That's an understatement," Kakyoin said. 

"Why did she go to you instead of us?" Mista asked. "I mean, she's lived here for a year and then all of a sudden she's getting attacked, disappears, and then you two show up. Why didn't she ask us for help?"

"Please, we mean no offense by this, and we know that it's a little overwhelming..but.." Kakyoin started.

"You don't know her like we do. Y/n isn't who you think she is." Jotaro said. 

Golden Experience Requiem came out beside Giorno. Everyone in the room tensed up. Jotaro pulled out Star Platnium to loom behind him. 

"Stop it," Kakyoin said, throwing his arm in front of Jotaro before he could do anything. He turned to Giorno. "Please just let us explain." Giorno hesitated, but drew his stand back from a defensive pose, but still kept him beside him. 

"We're only here because of Y/n," Kakyoin said with a frown. "She came to us in distress and asked us to come here. She gave us limited information, only giving us this address and a set of instructions. She begged us to come and protect all of you."

"We don't need your damn protection!" Abbachio yelled, storming to them. 

"Abbachio!"

"Get lost! We don't need some damn-"

Jotaro moved Kakyoin to the side and seized Abbachio by his collar, slamming him against the wall so hard a picture fell from the nail it was hanging on.

 "Y/n's in trouble and going to die you fucking idiot."