arrivederci giogio

Chapter 5- mio salvatore abbacchio

Narancia sobbed even harder as Giorno grasped onto his neck, completely unable to breathe now.

"I-It hurts...!" He cries out, struggling to break free from the rusted blonde's grasp. "I-I'm sorry, Giorno...!" He starts coughing harshly, feeling the inside of his neck sting.

He had been breathing nothing but smoke, was missing an arm, and had burns all around his body. Tears running down from his face didn't do much to sooth his burns, he instead cried as he fought for his life.

"You should have told me that earlier, Narancia. Now you're to suffer as you stare at your god," A heartless smirk comes upon Giorno's face as Narancia feels more flames coming closer and closer.

That was until...

"Huh?" He shifted his head to the side, to where he heard footprints from.

"You think that you caught me, Giorno?" None other than the spiky haired ravenette calls out to him in the distance, panting heavily. "Well, I'm really over here...! Come get me!" His eyebrows narrow, and he looks ready to fight.

"...Why, you...!! WWWRRRYYYYYYYY!!!" The blonde screams as he runs towards the figure in the distance, letting go of Narancia's neck.

Narancia falls to the ground, wheezing and gasping for air. His missing arm is bleeding out all over his side, and he is struggling for breath. Someone had just saved him by making a duplicate of himself, but who?

"...Narancia, come on. Hurry!" The familiar deep voice comes from the silver haired man.

"Abbacchio...!" Narancia laughs, though cannot help but to cough as he inhales smoke. "You... You came to save me?" He crawls to the other man's feet, feeling as if he is unable to move from exhaustion.

"Quiet, Narancia...!" He shushes the black haired boy before pulling him over his shoulder, running to the nearest stream that he could find. He was going to try and help him as much as he could, he thought of the boy as his own son.

He sets Narancia down in the stream, the cold water hitting his body. Narancia breathes slowly, feeling his burns start to cool as Abbacchio tries to shield him.

"Oh, Narancia... Your body," He grimaces, taking in the sight of Narancia's body.

He was wondering how the black haired boy was still clinging onto his life. His amythest eyes were devoid of any light, and he was breathing in and out slowly with shaky breaths. What remained of his ragged arm was painting the clear stream a crinson red, and his eyes were only open halfway. It seemed to be the only strength that he had left. His skin was covered in burns and bruises, purple, green, yellow, red, and gray...

Abbacchio couldn't stand to look at his condition. He looked about good as dead, and he had no idea how he was still alive. This boy, he thought, had the greatest will to live that he had ever seen.

Narancia's sad eyes stared at Abbacchio as he fought for life, his body lying limp within the stream.

"Abbacchio...?" He questions meekly as he lie there, feeling his vision start to blur a bit.

Abbacchio takes in a swallow, his two toned eyes becoming glossy with tears. "...Yes, Narancia?" He questions, trying to remain as strong as he could for the boy.

"I... I want to live," He whispers quietly, watching as the blood drains from his body.

Abbacchio tore off a piece of his coat and wrapped it around the half of Narancia's arm that remained, trying to put his bleeding to a stop. He felt terrible for not being able to do more for the poor boy. "You will live, Narancia. You have fought so hard, you can't stop now," He grimaces, picking the smaller boy up in his arms.

"My body... It feels numb. But I cannot die here, because somebody has to stop Giorno," He speaks as loudly as he can, though only a small whisper escapes from his throat. "Everyone else is afraid, but I am not. He has choked me, burnt me, torn me to shreds... But I cannot give up yet," Narancia shakes his head, finding it harder and harder to stay awake.

"...Narancia," Abbacchio closes his eyes, finding himself to shed a few tears spite trying to hold them back. He takes in a nervous swallow as he looks at the smaller boy that he holds within his arms. "...There is nothing we can do. He has become too powerful, haven't you seen the town? It's burnt down to a crisp. If that is just what he can do on the first day, imagine what he can do once he learns how to use his power even more. He cannot be saved," He frowns, feeling bad for telling the boy such things.

"He can be saved, though...," Narancia coughs, his lungs stinging from the amount of smoke he has taken in from the surrounding fires. "Nobody else believes. That's why the town looks like this, because nobody else has hope," He winces. His body is in an incredible amount of pain from all of his injuries. "Where... Where are the others?" He questions, finding it to be harder and harder to stay awake.

"...I do not know. We went our separate ways after Bucciarati was murdered," The silver haired man frowns, feeling a sting in his heart from Bucciarati's death and Narancia's condition.

"We need to find them. They need to be saved. They-," He is suddenly cut off by Abbacchio, to whom puts a hand over his mouth. There is a distant rustling in the forest, and he quickly runs to a large bush and places Narancia inside. He silently picks up a pile of dead leaves off of the ground and places them over Narancia's body.

"...Stay here. Do not move!" Abbacchio shakes his head as he runs off, the leaves crunching beneath his feet as he takes his leave.

The black haired boy remains helplessly in the bush, the jagged and burnt parts of the bush brushing against his burns. He directs his eyes to the ground, his bottom lip quivering.

He has a feeling that Abbacchio just sacrificed himself to Giorno to save his life, and he cannot help but to cry upon realizing that. He was much closer to death than Abbacchio, and the silver haired man threw his life away out of love for Narancia.

His tears come to a stop as he hears somebody stepping closer, and he freezes.

He doesn't even breathe, closing his eyes tightly as he can only hope that it's not Giorno.

It can't be...