content warning: descriptions of violence and blood
★˚⋆ HARUNO SHIOBANA LEARNED FROM A young age that crying wouldn't do much for him. One of his earliest memories was of waking up in the middle of the night, sobbing until his throat was raw. Once he stopped, he realized that the house was still quiet, still dark. It meant that his mother, in her twenties and beautiful enough to turn heads on the street, was still out. There was no use crying. No one would come. All he could do was pull his covers over his head and tremble.
Haruno didn't know who his father was. He didn't look much like his glamorous, chocolate-haired mother. The few times that he asked earned him lethal glares and sharp remarks. Haruno wasn't stupid enough to dream that one day his father would appear to take him in.
Haruno's mother surprised him by announcing one day that she would remarry. This coming from someone who took different partners every week and preferred bottles and pills to men. She told him they would be rich and that they would be moving to a colony ship.
"I won't have to take care of you because you'll have a nanny," she told him. "Don't you like that?"
Haruno nodded. His mother said nothing about the fact that she never took much care of him to begin with. She only sometimes remembered to restock the fridge with instant meals and when they ran out, Haruno would knock on the neighbour's doors. She must not know how hungry he always was when she went out.
"That shirt is disgusting," she said afterwards, wrinkling her nose. "Go change into something else."
Haruno was only wearing this shirt because all of his other ones were too small. It was a hand-me-down from the neighbours. Maybe things would get better after his mother remarried. His stepfather might actually take care of him like a real child.
The wedding was extravagant. Haruno had never been to an event like it. So much light and music and food. People he had never met before pinched his cheek and gave him sweets. "Your mother is beautiful," they said. "You should be proud."
He supposed his mother was beautiful. She looked like a queen, sitting apart from the guests with his stepfather. Occasionally, she would laugh and kiss his stepfather's cheek.
His stepfather seemed too ordinary. Slightly fat, with brown hair and a scruffy beard. Haruno wondered what his mother saw in the man, if anything besides his money. He supposed it didn't matter so long as he was kind and treated them both well.
And that turned out to be the case, whenever his mother was around. His stepfather was all smiles, drawing Haruno up on his lap, telling him stories and bringing him trinkets from around the colony ship. He liked to hoist Haruno up on his shoulders so he could look out the bay windows and marvel at the stars. It made his mother happy, seeing her husband get along with her sullen little boy.
But as with a lot of things, Haruno's mother didn't know the whole story. She didn't know that his stepfather's face changed when she was gone. He was gruffer. More snappish. Always getting annoyed. He didn't like the way Haruno looked at him, didn't like how he was so quiet all the time. Haruno tried to keep out of his way, but sometimes just a glance would be enough to set him off.
"You think you're smarter than me? You think you study me like I'm a damn lab rat? Why don't you talk? What the hell's wrong with you?"
The belt would come off then. The fact that Haruno never cried only infuriated his stepfather further.
Haruno came very close to telling his mother. He waited at her door, the words on the tip of his tongue. Sometimes his back would still be throbbing. But then she would yank open the door, her face pinched, her makeup half-wiped off. "What?" she would snap, and it would take all of the steam out of Haruno.
He couldn't tell his mother. She would never believe him. Not when his stepfather acted like a model husband and father in her presence. She had married the man, and despite everything, Haruno still wanted her to be happy. She'd already lost Haruno's father, wherever he was. He couldn't imagine what she would be like if she lost his stepfather too.
So Haruno suffered in silence. He was still just a child, solemn as he was. It became so that even away from home, Haruno couldn't catch a break. The other children on the ship colony bullied him relentlessly, the pale, silent child with wide eyes. He was easy picking. He was small, never fought back, didn't have any friends. He practically invited torment.
It was miserable, not having anyone in his corner. Haruno often wondered what would happen if he opened one of the emergency exits and just stepped out into space.
Nothing probably. No one would care if he died. Everyone would be better off.
The yawning chasm of space beckoned him everyday that went by. Leaving all of this behind sounded lovely. He had a feeling nothing good would come from him continuing like this. He resolved to himself that he would open an escape pod tomorrow. Ignore the blaring alarms and steer it out into space, riding in it until the oxygen ran out or space grew tired of him. There was no one to say goodbye to. It would be easy.
Unless there was divine intervention, Haruno would die tomorrow.
- ✦ -
Haruno's impatience took him by surprise. He stole out of his apartment before the morning lights of the ship were on, not wanting to face his mother or stepfather. He'd memorized the route to the escape pods by now and found them quickly. He would have to throw the alarm before the pods were released. Hopefully he'd be gone before the ship crew came to stop him.
He touched the pod door and it hissed open. All he needed to do was pull the alarm and then hop into the pod. Easy.
His hand hovered over the emergency alarm. He lowered his hand—
—then flinched at the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming.
He had lied to himself. His heart shot up to his throat and panic spread throughout his body. He couldn't do this if someone saw him. They would take him away, tell his stepfather. He was already backing away from the escape pods when heavy footsteps rounded the corner and a man lurched into view. He was swaddled in a dark coat and hat, moving like he was injured.
Haruno felt frozen to the spot. His eyes widened as the man stumbled right up to him. Blood was trickling from a corner of his mouth. His grey eyes flashed, and he reached out before his knees buckled and he fell half inside the escape pod.
Haruno's heartbeat was frantic. He heard more footsteps approaching—an entire group this time. Were they chasing after this man?
Without thinking too much about it, Haruno did his best to drag the man fully inside the pod. He was heavy, but his coat made it easier to drag him across the floor. As quickly as he could, Haruno stepped over him and closed the pod door.
A few moments later, a group of men ran past Haruno. They were all large, well-built. One of them stopped next to Haruno, his head swivelling around.
"Oi, kid, have you seen anyone pass by here just now? Grey eyes? Black coat?"
Haruno willed himself not to look at the pod. He raised his arm, pointing in the opposite direction. "He went down there."
"How's that flackbag so fast?" The other man went in the other direction without asking anything else. Haruno almost couldn't believe his lie had worked. He waited until the sound of footsteps had faded completely before peeking inside of the pod.
The man was still on the floor. Haruno didn't see much he could do about that. Once he came to, he would leave on his own.
Even though he hadn't been planning to, Haruno went back to his apartment.
- ✦ -
Maybe it wasn't divine intervention, but it was some kind of intervention. Things changed after Haruno hid that man in the escape pod. Suddenly, children thought twice before teasing him, going so far as to invite him to play with them and come over to their apartments. His stepfather became wary around him. He suffered no more beatings by his hand, and one day, he disappeared completely.
That was around the time his mother started spending more time at home. She started taking more of an interest in Haruno, asking about his day and taking him around the colony ship. She was still flippant and their interactions were awkward, but it was an improvement over what they'd had before. She didn't seem sad at all when his stepfather left. Didn't even notice, it seemed like.
Life was no longer miserable. All at once, it was almost ... pleasant.
The change was gradual. It was hard to say what it was. Only that it happened. As he entered adolescence, he grew brighter, more effervescent. His dark hair lightened into a soft gold, and his somber eyes became two crystal pools. Haruno became beautiful. Both within and without.
Perhaps the clearest marker that something had changed came when Haruno was fourteen. He'd come home from school, still smelling of sweets from the gaggle of girls that hung around him. He found their attention off-putting, simply because he'd never experienced it before. That anyone at all could like him was baffling.
He'd stopped by the colony garden, as he often did. These days, something about the green space called to him, incongruous as it was against the void of space and the chrome of the ship. He loved that they were able to grow things even here. He loved that there was soil and young green sprouts and bright, blooming flowers.
He stopped at the empty pots of soil waiting for seeds. He pushed his hand into one of the pots, enjoying the feel of soil sifting through his fingers. If only he could make a plant grow right in front of him, like one of those time-lapse holograms. Maybe he'd try to grow his own plant one day to see how it went.
Haruno felt something prickling along his hand. When he looked down, a different hand seemed superimposed over his own, one that was physically the same but golden in colour. An aura rippled around it, green and flickering. It was gone a moment later, leaving Haruno to wonder if he was seeing things.
He withdrew his hand from the pot and brushed off the soil. As he did so, something stirred in the pot and a moment later, a sprout burst forth, startlingly green.
He flinched. Looked around furtively. Had someone already planted something in these pots? How had a plant grown so quickly? It was almost as though ...
As though Haruno had made the plant himself. Made it grow without a seed.
He went to yank out the sprout, then thought better of it and placed the pot closer to the artificial lighting shelves. Then he quickly ducked out of the garden. His heart thrummed a nervous beat as he went.
He had made that plant grow. Somehow. It was both terrifying and thrilling to think about.
He hurried back to his apartment. There, he found his mother waiting for him, along with a young man with grey eyes. His hair was two colours, his darker roots showing through the blonde dye job.
Haruno felt a jolt of familiarity.
"We've been waiting for you," the man said, smiling. "I have wonderful news for both you and your mother. I expect it will change everything."
Haruno perched warily next to his mother. She took his arm—something she'd never done before.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I'm a representative of the Imperial Family," the man said. "Recently, the Emperor has made an effort to search for possible blood relatives of the family. As you know, that's how he found the recent Prince Ungalo."
A fairytale, his mother had called it. A lost prince, found.
"We have reason to believe that you are a direct descendant of the Emperor, Haruno. Your blood records show a very likely match."
Haruno glanced at his mother. He supposed it was possible that she might have spent time with the Emperor fourteen years ago.
His mother squealed and wrapped her arms around him. "You're a royal, darling," she gushed. "I just knew it. I knew you were special."
Haruno didn't feel as excited as he should have. It was too much at once. Haruno. A Prince of the galaxy.
"We'll be making arrangements," the young man said, his smile unchanged. "You will move to the Palaceship and meet the Emperor. Then, preparations will be made to crown you as a Prince."
"You're sure about this?" Haruno couldn't help asking. "This isn't some kind of mistake?"
The young man's smile turned mocking. "With all due respect, Your Highness, have you looked in the mirror lately? You're the spitting image of the Emperor himself."
The blonde hair. The turquoise eyes. How was something like that possible when he'd looked so drastically different as a child?
"The Emperor informed me that you will no longer be Haruno," the young man said. "Your name will be changed."
And just like that, Haruno's entire identity slipped out from under him. He was no longer a miserable, colony ship child with no father and more friends than bullies. He was now an Imperial Prince, fourth in line to the Imperial throne.
He was now a boy who could make life unfurl from his fingers.
He was now Giorno Giovanna. A prince of the day.
- ✦ -
It was revealed that two soldiers would accompany Giorno and his mother to the Palaceship. A jet had been sent for them, and it would only be a short trip to the Palaceship. Neither Giorno nor his mother brought anything with them as they boarded the ship. Nothing seemed appropriate.
His mother had only grown haughtier after the news of Giorno's true father was established. She considered herself part royalty now and made sure everyone knew it. Giorno, for his part, wasn't enjoying things the way his mother was. He was worried more than anything. He didn't know the first thing about being a prince. They would probably eat him alive at court.
One of the guards had gone into the cockpit with the pilot. The other sat opposite Giorno and his mother. A cap sat low over his eyes, but Giorno could still tell he was studying them. He wasn't too tall but had a lean physique. A holster sat easily on his hip. His mother kept glaring at him.
The ride was over before it started. As the jet touched down on the Palaceship, the guard directed Giorno and his mother to put on the space suits on the side, explaining that they would need the protection from the Palaceship's exposed deck.
As Giorno was shrugging into his space suit, there came a loud bang from the cockpit. The guard's hand went to his elector.
"Everything alright?" he called.
The cockpit door slammed open, and the other guard and the pilot fell out, struggling furiously against each other.
"He has a gun!" the other guard cried.
Giorno's insides curdled. He took a few steps back, staring at the man the other guard was struggling with. Blonde hair with darker roots. Familiar.
The man managed to get his arm out, catching the guard's nose and breaking it. He aimed an elector at Giorno. No, not an elector. An Old-World weapon. A gun.
"Get the prince outside!" the other guard shouted.
The capped guard shoved Giorno and his mother to the ground. The gunshot was deafening.
"We need to go!" Giorno's mother shrieked.
"If I open the door, the pressure will kill them!" the capped guard told his partner. "Neither of them have their suits on!"
"Get him outside!"
The pilot raised the gun again. Giorno covered his ears. What the capped guard said next was muffled. In the corner of his vision, Giorno thought he saw tiny yellow things zipping around. Too fast to see.
The pilot managed to get a bullet through the other guard's arm. Giorno lurched away, his ears ringing. He heard scuffling, and when he looked back, the guard somehow had the revolver in their hands.
A bang. The pilot slumped to the ground.
Giorno's mother wailed. Numbly, Giorno pulled her to him, rubbing her back. What had just happened? He stared at the two guards, one huddled over the other. Then he looked over at the pilot. Unmoving.
He could've died just now. Someone had just tried to take his life.
What had just happened?
- ✦ -
The details of the attack were swept neatly under the rug. Giorno wasn't told more than he needed to know. The pilot was an anti-royalist. The gunshot had not been fatal. He was awaiting trial. He actually had to ask to be informed about the two guards. They were both recovering. They would be aptly rewarded and sent on their way.
Giorno didn't see his mother again after that first day in the Palaceship. He knew she was around, but their lives simply didn't need to intersect anymore, and so they didn't. It suited both of them fine. His mother was escorted one way, and he the other. He took everything in, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. The Palaceship didn't look like a ship at all. Its interior perfectly resembled the ornate, gilded palaces of old, marble and gold and cream. It was easy to forget they were on a ship floating through space.
An entire team of people prepared Giorno for the meeting with his father. His hair was slicked back, and makeup applied to his face. He was told to put on a perfectly tailored suit, deep navy to offset his eyes and hair. A crest was pinned to his lapel--that of the Imperial Family. When he looked in his reflection, he hardly recognized himself.
He focused more on the quiet taps his leather shoes made on the floor than where they were going. The hallways on the Palaceship seemed endless; all of the rooms sprawling and vast. How was anyone supposed to find their way around?
Eventually, they arrived at the throne room. It was grand. Imposing. Dramatic. Polished lacquer floors and tall marble columns framed the Emperor's throne. The lighting was gold, making the curtains behind on the far wall look blood-red.
Aside from the various guards and attendants, there were only four people in the room to greet Giorno. The Emperor and the three current Imperial Princes.
The Emperor smiled when Giorno stopped in front of him. He was just as beautiful as the holo-casts made him out to be. His canines were strangely sharp.
"Welcome. I've been waiting to meet you, Giorno."
Giorno searched for some hint of himself in the Emperor's face. What was it that tethered the two of them as father and son? Maybe it was their eyes. The Emperor's eyes were a bright amber, but the tapered corners, the shape, seemed familiar.
Giorno bowed deeply. "It is an honour, Your Majesty."
The Emperor gestured the other princes forward. One by one, they introduced themselves.
Ungalo had a flat face and small eyes. His greeting was curt. He was currently lieutenant general in one of the Imperial armies, and did not look happy to be called away just for this.
Rikkiel's long face seemed sly. He said he was pleased to meet Giorno, which seemed to be a lie. Nothing else was offered about him, so Giorno assumed there was nothing else noteworthy.
Donatello, out of all the brothers, seemed to resemble the Emperor the most. If not in appearance, then in attitude. He was haughty and arrogant. He carried himself the way his title suggested. He was the Crown Prince, heir to the galaxy. He sneered down his nose at Giorno. It was obvious they would not get along.
Giorno greeted all of his brothers respectfully, using their full name and title. He felt no kinship with any of these men. They were supposedly his family, but couldn't be farther from the truth.
That night, in his new quarters aboard the Palaceship, Giorno found himself wanting to go back to his apartment on the colony ship.
He found he did not want to be here in the slightest.
- ✦ -
Giorno learned a lot that first year as an Imperial Prince. He learned how to navigate court life, hide his feelings beneath a veneer, be rude and snide and patronizing while still appearing cordial. Politics seemed to come easily to him. The complexities of management and ruling were less than a set of rules to be followed. He understood quickly that things were complicated just for appearances. He did very well in his studies and impressed everyone he was presented to. Very quickly, he dispelled all doubt that he was a son of the Emperor.
The lesson he liked the most was the one his tutor gave him one day about repeating himself.
"Never repeat yourself, Your Highness," the tutor sniffed. "It is a waste of time on your part and utterly useless. If whoever you spoke to was not listening, that is their fault, not yours."
It was a revolutionary idea. Giorno resolved to live by it. It would help him be more direct and less apologetic. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was completely correct. Anything spoken more than once was a waste of time.
Navigating his family proved to be more difficult. Each member of the Imperial Family required a different approach.
Ungalo was rarely aboard the Palaceship. He was more at home on foreign colonies, overseeing military operations and Imperial advancements. When he was aboard, all Giorno had to do was ask him about the military and that would be enough.
Donatello did not change after that initial meeting. Giorno kept out of his way as much as he could. When they did meet, Giorno went along with everything he said. He made himself appear naïve and compliant. Too boring and bland to be a target.
Rikkiel, once Giorno got to know him, was the most agreeable of all the brothers. At times, he was even more withdrawn than Giorno. The two of them developed a student and mentor relationship. Or something close to it. In his way, Rikkiel tried to take Giorno under his wing. He kept to himself, and encouraged Giorno to do the same.
Giorno only saw the Emperor in mandated, sanctioned environments. Meetings. Banquets. Debriefings. Their interactions were brisk and professional. He was never Giorno's father. Only the Emperor.
Overtime, Giorno noticed the chinks in the Imperial Familie's shining façade. All was not quite well. The Emperor was distant. Hands-off. He allowed the galaxy to be run by his advisors and diplomats. He was only interested in the glittering balls and beautiful women.
The Crown Prince, meanwhile, was cruel. It was unfathomable to him that anything could go a way that wasn't his own. He did not care about the people. Did not care about his duties. He worked on his fashion, and when he didn't do that, he tormented others. Somehow, he thought that made him a worthy heir.
Giorno worked hard in the face of this. He threw himself into charity work, diplomacy, and humanitarian efforts. He spoke his mind on the council and listened to people when they came to him. He tried to offer solutions. Alternatives. The galaxy was vast, but Giorno was determined to do right by it. He felt that was why he had been saved twice by the galaxy. Once at the escape pods and again from the pilot. His duty was to serve, and serve he would.
In secret, he developed his Stand ability. He researched extensively, finding only obscure articles about the phenomenon. He discovered that the ability allowed him to infuse life energy into inanimate material. Plants without seeds. It could potentially be extended to organic cells too. He might be able to heal injuries. Repair wounds.
But for all of his efforts, there was only so much he could do. He was an Imperial Prince, but he wasn't the Imperial Prince. There were still times when people, circumstances, policy barred his way. We understand, Your Highness, but you do not have the authority for that. Only the Emperor or Crown Prince can allow that.
It was maddening. Him without the authority. Donatello and the Emperor without the motive. There was little he could do without either of their say-so. He sent up appeal after appeal, but they always came back, unanswered. They ignored him. Wrote off his endeavours as useless. They were content to lie back and let the galaxy flail and didn't see why Giorno couldn't do the same.
Giorno was tired of it. It was obvious they were not going to listen to him.
He hated to repeat himself.
- ✦ -
Giorno did not fidget as he waited outside of the Emperor's office. On the outside, he was calm and collected. Completely in control. How he felt inside did not matter. It was not what he would be showing to the Emperor.
An attendant opened the door and bid him enter. Giorno waited until he left before turning to stand in front of the Emperor's desk. He waited to be addressed before speaking.
The Emperor folded his hands on his desk. He seemed amused and it irritated Giorno.
"You wanted to speak to me?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"You may proceed."
Giorno did not hesitate. "Make me the Crown Prince."
The Emperor's eyebrows climbed his forehead. He let out a single laugh.
"I didn't take you for the joking type, Giorno."
"I'm not joking, Your Majesty. This is a genuine request. I believe it will benefit both you and the galaxy if I am made the Crown Prince. I am tired of having my requests for aid ignored. If neither you nor Donatello want to help me, I will do it myself."
Giorno set his jaw. His heart was beating too loudly.
The Emperor smiled at Giorno the way you smiled at a dog being cute. "I don't think you know what you're asking."
"I'm well aware. I wouldn't have brought this matter to you if I hadn't thought about it closely." Giorno hadn't addressed the Emperor properly that time. He didn't care.
"If you make me the Crown Prince, you will be doing a good deed for both the galaxy and your own reputation. As lax as you are, it shouldn't escape your notice how unfit Donatello is to rule. He is lazy, selfish and self-centered. He has no interest in politics or working with others. If left under him, the galaxy will crumple.
"By naming me as the heir, you will show the people that you understand how negatively Donatello affects them. You have considered the alternatives and deemed myself the best heir. You show that you believe ruling is a matter of capability, not hierarchy. You recognize one son's hard efforts and reprimand the other's sloppiness in the same breath. You would put Donatello in his place. Remind him what it means to take his position for granted."
The Emperor's eyes gleamed. "You truly believe you would make the best heir?"
"I do. In fact, I know it. And I think you do, as well."
Giorno wasn't sure what happened. One minute, the Emperor was sitting behind his desk. The next, he was standing beside Giorno, looming over his shoulder. He had moved so fast Giorno hadn't seen it. Inhumanly fast.
"I wondered about you, you know. With the others, I didn't doubt that they were my sons. But with you, I had a harder time. You didn't seem to resemble me at all."
He echoed Giorno's thoughts exactly. He had felt no connection at all to this man. It had disappointed him.
"Has that changed?" Giorno asked.
The Emperor tilted his head. He lay a heavy hand on Giorno's shoulder and he nearly stumbled. "It remains to be seen. I will make you the Crown Prince. You made a compelling argument, I'll give you that; however, unlike Donatello, I will be expecting perfection from you. If you fail in any way, at any point, you will be cast out of the Imperial Family. That is the price you pay for ascending in rank."
"I'm willing to pay it," Giorno said.
"So be it," the Emperor said. He narrowed his eyes. "Never forget that you were the one who asked for this."
Giorno nodded.
"I will make arrangements. You're free to go."
And so he did, suddenly that much closer to the throne.
- ✦ -
As expected, there was little opposition to Giorno's rise in rank. People were relieved. They praised the Emperor's wisdom and foresight and congratulated Giorno on his hard work and tenacity. There was no formal ceremony, but word spread quickly, and soon, the only thing anyone could talk about was that Giorno had succeeded Donatello as Crown Prince.
He received a perfunctory congratulation note from Ungalo—an automated one it seemed like. Rikkiel gifted him a pair of earrings and a small smile. His mother, although she didn't visit, granted the media many interviews expressing how proud she was of her son.
Giorno waited for Donatello to retaliate. He might not have taken being the heir seriously, but knowing his pride, he wouldn't take this lying down. He wouldn't put it past the former heir to threaten him with bodily harm, if he didn't kill Giorno outright.
The former heir did none of those things. Instead, he seemingly vanished. It put Giorno at ease somewhat. Donatello being gone made things easier.
Giorno threw himself into his work. Things became easier when you were the Crown Prince. People became easier. People weren't as likely to act condescending or sarcastic when Giorno offered his opinions now. They actually took him seriously, and Giorno hadn't realized how much of a difference that would make.
Giorno had a few goals in mind; some more feasible than others. The goal to eradicate all recreational drugs in the galaxy provided a nice cover for what he was really focused on. In his research regarding Stand abilities, he had come across rumours of what people called the "Stand Arrow". It had a fascinating history on Earth, and if rumours were to be believed, could grant immense power to whoever wielded it. It was Giorno's ultimate goal to retrieve the arrow and act as its guardian. He didn't trust anyone else not to abuse it, and perhaps it was arrogant, but he truly believed he and his Stand would be able to handle its power.
In any case, it would be worth it to conduct further studies on the Arrow. Now that he was the Crown Prince, he could bring up the phenomenon of Stands without fear of being ridiculed. He found it hard to believe that he could be the only person in the galaxy with such an ability.
After months of searching, Giorno finally got the breakthrough he needed. There was a supercomputer somewhere out there with extensive information on how to locate the Stand Arrow and its current guardian. It had been released intentionally, it seemed like, and all Giorno needed to do was find it. With this in mind, Giorno proposed a four-month long excursion for himself and a trusted crew about the Eos, ostensibly to target drug use and help victims find support and healing.
The mission was approved. Giorno's ratings shot through the roof.
He had told the Emperor he would not fail, and so he wouldn't.
- ✦ -
Giorno received a summons from Donatello just a few hours before the Eos' scheduled departure. It was an insult. That much was clear. As Crown Prince, Donatello had no right to summon him, only request.
Giorno debated whether or not to go. It would be easy enough to ignore the summons; he doubted Donatello had anything useful to tell him. But he was curious. He hadn't heard from Donatello at all these last few months and now he was suddenly back.
Giorno accepted. His holopad directed him to Donatello's personal quarters.
Donatello's rooms were already open when Giorno arrived. He entered cautiously, not quite sure what to expect. It was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the windows on the far wall.
It was quiet. Expectantly quiet.
Giorno's eyes darted to the side. At the same time, someone yanked on his braid, forcing his head back and making him stumble. He didn't have time to recover before someone had him pinned against the wall, an elector under his chin.
"What are you doing?" Giorno hissed at Donatello. The former heir's eyes glinted in the gloom.
"I should kill you," he seethed. "You have quite the nerve, waltzing in and usurping me. What makes you think I would allow that?"
"I didn't usurp anyone. I spoke to the Emperor. The council voted. There was no force or illegality involved."
"On what grounds?" Donatello pressed closer, harder against Giorno's throat. "You have no claim to the throne. I'm the eldest, not you."
"You were a despicable heir," Giorno spat, and Donatello flinched. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. You abuse those who serve you and crush those less than you. You don't deserve to be Crown Prince."
"I had every right to act the way I did. Those who aren't powerful enough are crushed. It's the only way the galaxy can advance."
"Who gave you the right to decide that? If you're stronger than others, you have an obligation to protect them. You should be lifting people up, otherwise you'll turn around one day and realize that no one is behind you."
Donatello snarled, "You flacking—" but Gold Experience emerged then, and delivered a powerful blow to his stomach.
The prince was lifted off his feet and sent crashing to the ground a few feet away. Giorno got to his feet, rubbing his neck gingerly. He knew from experimenting that Donatello would be incapacitated for a while. He was likely having an out-of-body experience right now from the influx of life energy Giorno's Stand had just dealt him.
"I might not have been for it, but that doesn't change that I am now the Crown Prince," Giorno said, standing over Donatello's crumpled body. "You had your chance. You wasted it. You of all people should have been prepared to defend your position, knowing how cutthroat and bloodthirsty the court is. It's your own fault you underestimated me." He set his jaw. "Don't come near me again, Donatello. I outrank you now. If you stand in my way, I will not hesitate to put you in your place. I have a dream, and I intend to see it through."
Giorno distantly wondered if Donatello was able to see the aura rippling around Giorno's body, or his Stand hovering over his shoulder. Not that it would change things. He suspected Donatello would be afraid either way.
"I don't want to make an enemy out of you, Donatello. Keep to your path, and I'll keep to mine. That's all I ask."
Giorno withdrew his Stand. He crossed the room to the Donatello's mirror hanging on the wall and straightened out his hair and clothes. Then he left the room, the doors sliding shut behind him. He strode all the way to the Palaceship's dock, where the magnificent Eos was waiting for him.
He had given himself four months to find the Stand Arrow. He would make it happen. He couldn't risk people like Donatello getting their hands on it. Abusing it. Purging the weak.
Giorno stepped onto the Eos. He made a silent oath to the stars as he made his way to the navigation bridge.
I, Giorno Giovanna, will find the Stand Arrow and protect it with my life.
No matter what happens, I swear it.