Tales Of The Underlands (jjba part 5 Wonderland AU)

What Once Was

Risotto had never felt fear since he was a little boy. Someone pointed their weapon at him?
He felt amused.
Someone threatened to kill him and the people who were most important to him? Fucking hilarious.
He got seriously hurt while doing a job for the king?
As if that would ever happen.

Risotto had prided himself with the fact that people feared him and not the other way around. His life was complicated enough as it was, he didn't need irrational feelings to intervene with it.

But the thing he felt, when he was guided by guards on his way to Bucciaratis tent to receive news about his teams fate, came close to that emotion he had locked away within himself. The thing he hadn't felt since he was a young boy without a perspective other than killing.

And he felt pathetic for it, he truly did. For the way his heart clenched in his chest at the thought of having led his men into certain death. For the despair that caused his eyes to lightly burn. And for the breaths caught in his throat when he tried to calm himself.

It wasn't out of selfishness that he felt like this, it was out of guilt. His men only followed his orders, even if they all told him they would happily sacrifice themselves if it meant that Diavolo would no longer sit the throne. They sounded way to sure about it, he noted, like they had expected to die for the sins they committed before they could redeem themselves.

From the outside you wouldn't have been able to tell that there was a whirlwind of feelings bubbling up in him. And when he entered the tent it was like he put on a mask.

When he left the tent about an hour later after swearing loyalty to Bucciarati, said mask was in shambles, his relief flashed through the cracks, still, in front of the guards he wouldn't show it. He didn't allow himself to be vulnerable in front of anyone, even his team.

There were hushed whispers inside the tent, each implying something different. Some talking about forgiveness, others feared that they would bring them his head on a silver plate.

When he entered it all died down to questioning looks, some fearful others filled with hope. In this moment they all looked like little children, naive and scared of the world outside.

Finally he let the mask slip and a genuine smile formed on his face, before all the tension slipped from his body and he began to laugh. All the sleepless nights he had and the talks full of tension and the hours he spent making plans to convince the prince to not kill them.

The others were stunned, they had never seen him like this. Had he lost his mind or did he have too much wine while dining? They felt weirded out by this unexpected turn of events.

After a few minutes Risottos laughter died down and he wiped a tear from his eyes before he addressed his men who looked like they had seen a ghost, even Prosciutto looked shocked.

"We're allowed to join the rebellion. Tomorrow we will get to sleep in our own tents, get better food and join the others at training." His voice sounded stoic as usual, almost like he didn't have his little outburst at all.

A gasp was heard but Risottos wasn't sure who let it out, he honestly didn't care, as long as they were all safe now, well almost all of them.

There were mistakes he would never allow himself to forgive, the fate of two of his men being one of them. The whole team had felt a lot of pain that day. They all dealed with it in their own way.

But now, he was able to make up for those mistakes.

He felt Prosciutto tapping his shoulder in a good mannered way, while Formaggio and Illuso talked about celebrating with some wine, Melone annoyed Ghiaccio by talking about how he would enjoy having late night talks together in their tent, causing Ghiaccio to grind his teeth together. Pesci had not moved since he arrived back.

Exhausted Risotto let himself fall onto his sleeping bag. This dinner had exhausted him. He just wanted to sleep to end this day, but it looked like his subordinates had other plans.

"Did you see her?" Formaggio nudged him, "The human didn't visit us today or yesterday, is she alright?"

It was true, they had began to worry when you didn't show up. Risotto remembered that you had looked so relieved when you saw him and how you hugged him like you hadn't seen him in months.

"She was there, didn't say much, but" he paused for a moment, "She vouched for us, both her and the young boy, Narancia, put their trust in us. So we better make the best of it."

These words were directed at the entire team, they had to get it into their heads that they couldn't act reckless now, they had a responsibility towards you and the Prince.

" Will they give us back our stuff?" Melone questioned. They had been stripped of their weapons, books and some personal items when they arrived at the camp. For Risotto this wasn't as relevant of a topic as it was to some of the others. Melone wanted back his precious research books, Illuso missed a handmirror which he explained was a family heirloom, but the guards took it from him anyway, saying that the mirror shards could be used as a weapon.

They hadn't taken anything from Risotto either they didn't find his belongings threatening or they didn't dare to take anything from him.

He pulled the coat thighter around him, an old necklace dangling through the furs, he didn't know how he would have reacted if they tried to take it from him. Not because it was valuable, but because it was the only thing he owned that meant something to him.

Noticing that the coat had a hole in it he frowned. Even if he appeared to be unfased, the cold was something he always tried to avoid, being from a warmer region of the Underlands.

They had all exchanged their old outfits for more winter clothes in the last village they passed through.

Pesci had lit a fire that was cackling through the comforting silence that had laid itself over the group, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

He took that as his sign to rest, laying down and closing his eyes. He and his men were now free. Sure, they would have to deal with hostility from certain people, but that was better then being stuck in a tent and not knowing if they would live to see the next day.

As it grew more quiet and the fire died down after some hours,Risotto allowed himself to let some tears of relief and regret stream down his face.

He allowed himself to be vulnerable for once, he allowed himself to hope for better times and he allowed himself to feel happy.

No one will see or know, he told himself. He could hear the regular breaths of the others, who were without a doubt, asleep.

He allowed himself to be that little boy again, the one who knew that fear tasted bitter and burned in the back of his throat, the one who feared the beasts in the woods and the monsters in the stories. The one who was excited to go on hunting trips with his cousin, even if he was a bit scared of what could lurk among the trees. The one who didn't know that he would become one of those monsters from the stories in the not so distant future.

He wondered how many children who heard the stories about him knew that he was once one of them, a little kid, too naive for his own good, stubborn and with big dreams. It wasn't his fault that he turned out the way he did, at least that's what he told himself, it made him feel less guilty for the things he did. He was convinced, that he would've just been a kid, living in a small house near the woods with his cousin, if it wasn't for what happened. He would've grown up to become a hunter and lived a peaceful life, without killing other people for money.

But things would never be like that again, his cousin was gone, the house was burned down and he was a killer.

And tonight, the little boy who once was, cried tears of regret.