arrivederci giogio

Prologue

Requiem. A word that none knew the true meaning to, something more powerful than mankind could know. Something both enchanting and wicked, pierced with darkness and light. The end and the beginning, strength and weakness... It would stain whoever's hands it touched with black ink, or leave them covered in light brighter than the sun itself. As the gang was searching for the requiem arrow to acquire full power to stop the boss, they thought luck might have been on their side.

Something had grabbed Giorno's foot, causing him to trip. "Agh...!" He grimaced, a bead of sweat coming upon his head.

"Giorno, are you okay?" Mista came rushing over, a look of concern on his face.

Giorno's heart was beating in his chest, so loudly that he couldn't hear Mista. He lied there for a moment, something having pierced his hand through a crack in the ground. "...What was that?" He whispers to himself, lifting his hand from the ground. Blood dripped down onto the black pavement, his eyes widening. It was a pain he hadn't ever felt before. Giorno looks at the object that pierced his hand... A requiem arrow, colored silver and black. He decides not to tell the gang, sliding it into his shirt and gets up. "Sorry guys... I just tripped and fell. I'm okay," He sighs, staring at the cut on his palm.

"You sure?" Narancia trots over to him, analyzing his hand.

"Yeah... I'm fine," Giorno nods his head before stepping into the hotel they were staying at that night. Everyone had gotten their own rooms, thanks to the fortune that Polpo left for them. He shut his door before walking into the bathroom, the golden haired boy breaking out into a bit of a fever. He takes in a deep breath, finding himself to get lightheaded before a knock is heard on his door.

"Hey Giorno, it's Bucciarati," He hears the familiar ravenette's voice.

"Bucciarati...?" He questions, fanning himself tiredly. "What is it?"

"I've brought you your favorite for dinner, octopus salad," He smiles, feeling proud of himself.

"Thank you, Bucciarati... I'm not feeling too hungry right now. I... I'll eat later," He doesn't tell Bucciarati what is going on, not wanting to worry him.

"Oh... Alright. Call me when you want it," His footsteps are heard not too much longer later, the boy heading off to his room for the night.

"Agh, damnit...," He feels the back of his forehead, it's warm. He must be coming down with a fever. He breathes a bit heavily as he places a wet washcloth on his forehead, stumbling next to the toilet as he feels nausea build up within his stomach. He begins to throw up, unsure of what's happening to him. He gets up from the toilet to wipe his mouth, unable to keep himself up. As the other members are eating, a loud crashing sound is heard.

"That came from Giorno's room...!" Narancia gets up from the table as soon as possible, running as fast as he could to Giorno's room.

"Narancia!" Fugo reaches out for the boy, before grimacing and turning his head away.

"Giorno? Giorno are you okay?! Hey, Giorno...!" He knocks on the door loudly before he starts to slam his fists against it. "GIORNO!" He screams before summoning Aerosmith, shooting the door down himself. He runs into the bathroom, seeing a pale and sickly looking Giorno. "What's going on...?!" He rushes to his side, holding the blonde closely.

"I'm fine, Narancia...," Giorno says softly as his vision begins to blur, his body trembling. "I'm fine...,"

"No, no, no, no...!!" Narancia cries, hugging his friend tightly. "ABBACCHIO, BUCCIARATI...! HELP!" The black haired boy screams at the top of his lungs, Giorno's breathing getting slower and slower by the second. "HELP! GIORNO IS... GIORNO IS... Giorno is... Giorno is...," Narancia's voice fades out completely from the blonde's hearing.

"I'm fine," The blonde reassures.