Chapter Text
Giorno walked next to Abbacchio with his usual placid demeanor and his confident gait. He held his head high, his posture was perfect, and not a single hair stood out of place.
After getting over his general disdain for the kid, Abbacchio became more observant of Giorno. Living with him for some time made Abbacchio notice that Giorno didn’t act like the kid that he was. As a sixteen year old, Giorno seemed to have no idea of what the kids his age did. He would stare at Narancia and Mista, mystified by their obsession with Studio Ghibli movies or Fugo losing his mind when he had time to roam around the mall for hours. Giorno would live his day to day doing paperwork and doing the bare minimum for his needs so he didn’t collapse.
Abbacchio also noticed that he and Giorno were two sides of the same coin. He would sometimes look at Giorno and see a dead look in his eyes. A look that he could only describe as despondent, similar to how he was before Bucciarati saved him all those years ago.
“Giorno, what do you plan on doing with any remaining members of this rogue faction?” Abbacchio paid attention to the crates along the dock, but he saw no reason to make their mission awkward between the two of them.
Giorno thought about it for a second, “I’ll get rid of the dissenters that are higher in rank, deport the underlings,” and he left it at that.
He sighed, not knowing how to continue the conversation. Despite living with Giorno for over a year, with the first six months to finally deal with his own insecurities that projected onto Giorno as hatred, Abbacchio still had no clue how to talk to Giorno. The kid was so closed off. “Sounds like a plan…”
Giorno and Abbacchio walked along the docks until they concluded that they were gonna come up with nothing. There were no signs of life according to Gold Experience and they walked up and down docks three times. They walked back to the car with Giorno walking behind Abbacchio. He thought of the paperwork he planned on finishing once they made it back to the villa. His mind was caught so caught up in his thoughts that Giorno didn't notice the stand manifesting behind him.
A bright red light shone and engulfed Giorno. Abbacchio heard the boy gasp and turned to him only to see a heap of clothing where Giorno stood. Slowly, Abbacchio walked to where Giorno’s clothes lay in a pile. The clothes moved and Abbacchio heard a scared whimper. Behind him, Moody Blues manifested , ready to attack at any given moment.
A mess of black hair poked out of the clothes with turquoise eyes darting around their surroundings. There was a toddler in the mess of clothes staring at Abbacchio. The kid had an attentive stare, darting between Abbacchio and Moody Blues, waiting to gauge whether he needed to run for his life at that moment.
Abbacchio crouched down to face the child and sighed, “Giorno?” It was the only logical explanation for the random kid now sitting in the heap of his Don’s suit. “You’re Giorno, right?”
The kid nodded, “Yes,” bunching the fabric in his hands and bracing himself for something.
He softened his voice. The fact that he was some random adult that had him alone on some random dock was the initial reason Giorno was spooked. Abbacchio didn't want to add to that by yelling at the kid. “Look, I know this is confusing, but I’m gonna help you out, alright? Can you tell me how old you are?”
The child scrunched his face in concentration, moving his mouth to sound out his words. With a shaky hand, he held up five fingers and said his age in a shaky accent.
Abbacchio made the effort to speak slower for the kid since it was obvious that his fluency was scarce. He pointed to himself, “I’m Leone.” He pointed back at the kid, hoping he’d pick up on what he was insinuating.
He pointed to himself, “Haruno…”
Haruno? But he just…? Despite the confusion, he couldn’t just leave Haruno by himself, and he still had the issue of his missing boss. “I’m going to take care of you.” His palm was upturned, waiting for Haruno to decide to trust him in the moment. Thankfully, after a minute of Giorno deliberating, the toddler took Abbacchio’s hand.
Haruno stood on shaky legs. Abbacchio let the alarm bells in his head fade into the background while he worried about the now. There was a stand user that needed to be dealt with and it had the ability to regress someone’s age. The possibility of a second stand user that allowed the first to conceal their presence wasn’t too out of the box. And the fact that he had a child that may or may not be their Don.
Abbacchio lifted Haruno into the backseat and stood outside the van to call Bucciarati. “Bruno, we have an issue. Bring the others.”
Over the phone, Abbacchio heard Bucciarati getting up, “Why, what happened?”
“You’ll see when you get here, just hurry.h”
In the van, Haruno held the clothes around him taught to his body. The fabric was silky and felt nice on his skin. The cuts and bruises on his arms and back weren’t as irritated as usual from when they'd rub on his rough and dirty shirts. Still, he was with someone he didn’t know, somewhere he didn’t know, in clothes that weren’t his own. Haruno remained aware of everything around him, thinking of how to escape if he needed to. For now, he only had to worry about Leone, but it was only a matter of time he’d be taken to a second location.
Abbacchio peeked inside the van and nodded at Haruno, “Hey Haruno, everything is gonna be okay. My friends are coming to help you.”
Harino nodded. He picked up the main gist that others were arriving soon. “Yes sir.”
Abbacchio sat next to him on the other side of the van. “You don’t need to call me sir. Just Leone is fine.”
Haruno nodded again, “Yes, Mr. Leone.”
He could deal with that, at least. To him, Haruno had a demeanor that worried him. The way he huddled in on himself to make himself smaller, his hyper awareness of his surroundings that a child his age shouldn’t have, even his tone of voice that was far too polite even with his choppy Italian. “Haruno, do you remember what you were doing before you showed up here?”
Haruno pulled the jacket closer to him, ignoring the ache in his arms and back. “Going to bed.” He knew he shouldn't mention the bruises and scars or his stepfather would get mad. There were cigarette burns on his shoulders from the previous day and fresh belt welts from just a few minutes ago. Haruno had just finished showering, but the steam from the bathroom alongside his now seventh day without a meal made him dizzy. He dressed himself in the warmest clothes he had before crawling onto the lumpy mattress that pretended to be a bed. To not stress his wounds on his back more than his top already was, Haruno lay flat on his stomach. There was only a moment when he closed his eyes before he woke up on a sunny dock.
“Well then you’re free to sleep if you want, you must be tired.” Abbacchio took off his coat and bundled it up next to his lap. “Makeshift pillow.”
He eyed Abbacchio suspiciously. The times in his life when others chose to be kind to him were all fake. There would always be pain that followed after he tried to accept a seemingly kind gesture. But if he didn’t accept, that would lead to the problem of Haruno being rude. He waited for Abbacchio to speak.
“It’s alright if you don’t want to, but I just thought you’d be tired if you were in the middle of going to bed.”
Haruno decided to remain awake if Abbacchio gave him the choice of staying up. He’d probably regret it later when he had to fight off his inevitable exhaustion, but for now, he’d prefer to stay alert. His posture remained stiff, keeping his back from pressing into the back of the seat while he kept his eyes darting around and outside the van. They sat in silence for another twenty minutes until they heard the screech of tires outside.
Bucciarati, Mista, Narancia, Fugo, and Trish were all piling out their van, half of them looking nauseous from Bucciarati’s reckless driving.
Abbacchio left the van, leaving the door open so the team could get a good look at the kid in the back seat and so Haruno could see what was going on for himself.. Haruno seemed to make himself smaller in the presence of more people. While Abbacchio briefed Bucciarati, the rest of the gang slowly walked up to the van and gawked at the kid in the van. Mista was the first to speak up, “This was absolutely not what I expected.”
Trish shoved Mista out of the way and greeted Haruno, “Hey hon, I’m Trish. What’s your name?”
Haruno pointed to himself and said his name. His voice was timid. In the short time in the car, Haruno had grown used to Abbacchio, so the five new faces around him at once were overwhelming.
She pointed to each of her team members and introduced them. “I’m sure Abbacchio already told you, but we're gonna take care of you. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you while you're with us. We just have to find our other friend.”
“Friend…?”
Trish nodded, “Yeah, our friend Giorno.”
Haruno pointed to himself, “Giorno.”
Narancia poked his head inside through the front window, “Huh, I thought your name was Haruno.”
Haruno held his head down, “Mama and Papa did not like Haruno. Giorno was better.”
Fugo sighed, “Kid, what are both of your names?”
“Haruno Shiobana,” he held a finger up, “Giorno Giovanna,” and then he raised the second.
“Shit.” Fugo walked over to Bucciarati and Abbacchio to let them know while Mista, Trish, and Narancia stared at Haruno in shock.
They were all thinking the same thoughts that went along the lines of how could such a quiet and timid child be Passione’s very own Giorno Giovanna. The difference was uncanny, especially since the kid had black, pin straight hair. Only his turquoise eyes could give it away, but it was a reach mixed with all the other traits Haruno had.
Bucciarati sat in the passenger seat of the van and turned to Haruno, “Hello, I’m Bruno. You’re Giorno, right?”
“Yes, sir.” He could see that Bucciarati had kind eyes and an even kinder smile, but he still couldn’t bring himself to relieve any tension from his body. As far as he could tell, he was in a car with six strangers and had nowhere to go.
“Well, things might be a little confusing, but I promise that you can trust us. And since you met him first, I’ll let you stay with Abbacchio.”
“Yes sir.” He watched Abbacchio sit in the seat next to him as they were before everyone arrived.
Abbacchio turned to Haruno, “We don’t have a car seat and we’re gonna drive back. You’re gonna need to sit on my lap, okay?”
Haruno nodded stiffly, “Yes, Mr. Leone.” He let Abbacchio pick him and his baggy clothes up and place him on his lap. He kept his back from touching Abbacchio’s chest, balancing himself with his hands placed flat on Abbacchio’s thighs.
Mista, Narancia, and Fugo stayed to take down the stand users while Abbacchio, Bruno, and Trish stayed with Giorno. Though the child was tense, Abbacchio could feel Haruno shaking slightly. He only hoped when they made it home that Haruno could feel a little better. Maybe some comfy clothes and some food might help.
“Trish, can you bring some of Narancia’s old clothes from the attic when we get back?” To Bucciarati, “We should get takeout tonight.”
Bucciarati agreed. “Giorno, is there anything that you would like?”
At home, nobody asked for his opinion, nor was he ever picky about food. “No, sir.” There was no reason to give his opinion even if he had one for the simple fact that he couldn’t afford what they were offering. Haruno would have to pocket some money from tourists before he was able to pay back what they wanted to feed him. Rather than be in debt to them, Haruno preferred to starve for another night.
“Are you sure? We can get something just for you.”
“I'm okay, sir.” Haruno felt the painful twist in his stomach and was thankful that it didn’t rumble. He tensed, trying to ignore the pain in his stomach.
Bucciarati furrowed his brows, but chose not to push further. He drove slower than usual, so Haruno would be more comfortable.
Once they arrived back at the house, Abbacchio held Haruno and took him upstairs to Giorno’s room. Abbacchio sat Haruno on the bed and leaned against the wall. “I think the only thing that’ll fit you is a t-shirt. Is that okay for now? Just until we get you something that fits.”
“I’m okay, Mr. Leone.” He didn’t think he needed new clothes. His stepfather made it clear that he should be happy with the clothes he already had. He’d get new clothes when he deserved it. Haruno let loose the grip he had on the silk suit he was wrapped in. “I’ll give it back, sorry.”
“The suit? Don’t worry about it.”
Trish knocked on the door holding a t-shirt and shorts. “I can tie some rubber bands to make them fit.”
Abbacchio let Trish further into the room so she could help Haruno change.
“Hey Giorno, I’m gonna help you change, okay?” She let her hand move slowly to the hem of the jacket to show what she planned on doing, aiming not to scare Haruno, but it didn’t seem to work.
Haruno reeled back, pulling the suit jacket tight. His breath picked up and his eyes intensified with fear. His gaze darted between Abbacchio and Trish. Under his fingers, the bedsheets turned to vines that wrapped up his arms. The golden light from his body faded in and out until Gold Experience made his way out to wrap around Haruno. Shaky hands returned the hug as Haruno tried to protect himself from the hands coming towards him. He couldn’t let them see the scars and bruises on his back. His stepfather told him to keep quiet. They couldn’t— they just couldn't…
Pushing past the shock of Giorno having a stand at five, Abbacchio crouched in front of Haruno, making sure to move slowly. He rested his hands in front of himself where Haruno could see before speaking. He lightened his tone, “Giorno. Haruno. Listen to me.”
Haruno opened his eyes and scanned Abbacchio. His hands were laid flat on the bed, he didn’t look angry. He nodded stiffly, “Yes, sir…”
“Kid, we’re not gonna do anything you don’t want, but you gotta tell us what's happening.”
Haruno shook his head and Gold Experience seemed to wrap around him tighter. The vines didn’t grow longer, but more leaves sprouted from them. “Papa said I can’t…”
“Can’t what, Giorno.” Abbacchio had a good sense of what was, but he wanted to have some faith that it was just his general mistrust of humanity getting the best of him.
He shook his head again, doubling down on keeping his shirt on. “Papa said no.”
Abbacchio sighed, “How about you change and we stand outside?”
“Yes, sir.” Haruno relaxed with that option. He watched Abbacchio and Trish leave the room while the vines around him turned back into sheets and Gold Experience unwrapped himself from Haruno’s back to hover by the side of the bed.
“Just knock on the door when we can come in, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” Abbacchio closed the door behind him and sighed against the wall. He frowned at the fact that Giorno was already back to calling him sir. There was something incredibly wrong at home for Giorno to be the way that he is. “Trish, I’m worried about Giorno. Has he ever told you anything about his childhood?”
“I'm in the dark when it comes to everything about Giorno. I learned what his favorite color was a month ago. We’ve known him for over a year.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
A few minutes later, Haruno knocked on the door. Trish was the first to enter the room and she squealed happily when she saw Haruno in the haphazardly tied clothing on him. “Giorno, you look so cute, I wanna scream.”
Haruno gave a timid smile to Trish before he walked over to Abbacchio’s side. Although he was nervous, Haruno lifted his hand to hold Abbacchio’s finger. He kept his head down, waiting and hoping Abbacchio wouldn’t let him go.
Abbacchio noticed Haruno's sad attempt at holding his hand and bent down, “We’re going downstairs. I can carry you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Abbacchio chuckled, “I promise kid, you don’t need to call me sir, just Leone is okay. I won't force you, but I want you to be comfortable.”
Haruno mulled over Abbacchio’s name, practicing it over a few times in his head until he was confident enough to say it out loud. “Leone?”
Abbacchio ruffled the pin straight hair on his head, “Yup, that’s me. And the lady with the pink hair is Trish. Downstairs is Bruno. I’ll remind you about the others when they get here.”
“Thank you, Leone.”
The dinner table was packed, to say the least. Trish sat at the very end of the table. Bucciarati, Abacchio, and Fugo sat on one side while Haruno sat in between Mista and Narancia on the other. Each person at the table had a separate takeout box for themself sitting in front of them and a chocolate cake sat in the center of the table. Haruno kept his hands in his lap although he could smell the food on the table. He knew better, so he remained where he was, not touching and not looking. Maybe if he was good enough, he could get leftovers.
From across the table, Bucciarati noticed that Haruno didn't even touch his takeout box. He didn't really know what to get for Haruno, so he just assumed he should get what older Giorno would’ve eaten. “Giorno, is everything alright?”
“Yes, sir, I’m okay,” Haruno lied.
“Then why aren’t you eating?”
Soon, the entire table stopped. They waited for Haruno to answer. Abbacchio, Trish, and Bucciarati’s faces were furrowed with concern. Everyone else watched confused as Haruno refused to look up towards the table. Stuck behind all their worried stares, Haruno held back tears. “D- Don’t deserve it.” All Haruno wanted was to eat the plate in front of him, but he could hear his stepfather in the back of his head screaming at him. “No money.”
Bucciarati held his fork in a tight grip. “Giorno, you don’t need money. That food is just for you.”
Haruno lifted his head to gawk at Bucciarati. “For me?”
Abbacchio smiled softly at Haruno, despite his smile hiding sorrow behind it, “Eat up, kid. There’s chocolate cake for dessert too.”
“Thank you.” Haruno pulled the plate towards him and opened it to see a steaming eggplant rollatini covered in sauce. Haruno couldn’t help but drool at the sight. He picked up his fork and took a tentative bite, glancing around the room to gauge whether he could continue eating. Narancia and Fugo already began to eat again, but everyone else watched Haruno eat.
Mista patted Haruno’s back when the kid had his eyes on him, “Ya like it?”
“Yes sir,” he looked at Bucciarati, “Thank you.”
Dinner went by without a hitch. Haruno didn’t eat that much, so Trish promised she’d keep it in the fridge for him. He watched her put the food in the fridge sadly, doubting that he’d be able to have more the next day. It was the same with the cake. Haruno had a small slice before he became nauseous. But Haruno wouldn’t forget the sweetness of the cake, even if he never had it again.
When Haruno saw Bucciarati and Fugo begin clearing the table, he got up from his seat and ran to take the trash away from them. He reached up to Fugo with shy determination, “Sorry. I’ll take.”
Fugo glared at Haruno, “It’s okay, Giorno, you don’t have to help.” He ruffled Haruno’s hair, “You’ve had a long day.”
Haruno glanced towards the couches and saw Abbacchio sitting by himself on the loveseat. He sat next to Abbacchio on the floor, watching the television. Mista played some obscure romantic comedy that he bought from a hole in the wall movie store.
Abbacchio wanted to avoid asking Haruno questions for the rest of the night. From what Haruno had said about his stepfather, he could only conclude that most of his perturbing demeanor was caused by his stepfather. “Giorno, come sit on the couch, it’s comfy.”
Haruno had become most comfortable with Abbacchio since he’s the first person he remembered waking up by. He climbed onto the couch and leaned onto Abbacchio’s side. Abbacchio wrapped an arm around Haruno and they relaxed while they watched the movie.
He made it halfway through the film before he began to nod off. Though he was tired, Haruno didn’t want to sleep. It was a long day, it was a confusing day, but it’s been the best day he’d ever had.
“Do you want to go to bed?”
Haruno rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Okay, Mr. Leone.”
Abbacchio took Haruno upstairs and laid him in bed. Haruno turned onto his stomach, wincing as his shirt dragged over his shoulders and back. He snuggled into the cool pillow under his face with a small smile and a weary sigh, “Thank you…”