𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄｜squadra

𝟶 𝟷 ｜ 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝

PROTEGGERE
０１ ｜ 保護

 
"WAKE THE FUCK UP, oi! think you're living in a hotel, huh?", a foot was kicking the side of the mattress you were currently sleeping at rather harshly, which caused you to grumble and stir up under the duvet.

three days ago, you joined the gang passione and was stationed to the sector you least expected yourself to be positioned— the assassination team.

it was true that you told polpo you could be at any team but to be put in the execution team was something you never look forward to. you just wanted to avenge your family's unjust death after all, and nothing more than that.

"don't pretend to be asleep and prepare some food for us!", with one last kick and a tch, ghiaccio stormed out of your room, slaming the door as he went out. you rolled your eyes before getting out of bed and slipping on some pants.

though ghiaccio's attitude was shit, still, you thanked the heavens he didn't pull the comforter down.

you prepared yourself before you descended into the kitchen. few of the team was at the living room, examining another mail from the anonymous sender. nobody seemed to notice you beside pesci who was sitting on a stool as he greeted you with a smile.

"can you make one for me too?", pesci gasped when he saw you preparing a food for yourself. you nodded then gestured him to hush before the others hear him. when you finished, the two of you ate in silence and enjoyed the meal you prepared.

pesci was probably the one you favoured the most out of the team. the day you stepped in the headquarters, he was the only one to greet you with a smile. he was kind and almost pure at heart like a child, which reminded you of the younger brother you had lost. you also noticed how he always seemed to cling to someone, specifically prosciutto.

"what the hell? i was the one who asked for food now where's mine?", said a certain curly-haired male, clearly annoyed. ghiaccio was standing on the doorway, conspicuously eyeing you and pesci. the latter remained quiet, not wanting any part in the commotion.

you spoke at him in a monotonous yet collected way, "pesci asked nicely", which made ghiaccio grew more infuriated.

"are you fucking retarded?! i was the one who woke you up to prepare me some food!", you paid no mind to his harsh words as he continued to ramble more obscenities. you got up, grabbed both your and pesci's plates, then proceeded to the sink.

"what's going on in here?", you turned to look at the man with the black scleras as he entered the kitchen. his eyes switching from you to ghiaccio. before you could even answer, the other cut you off.

"risotto, this woman is fucking useless! playing favorites and all! fuck!", ghiaccio shot you a disgusted look as he gritted his teeth.

"she's a part of our team, not a hired ragazza", risotto said and it made ghiaccio storm out of the room. the former then looked at you before asking, "are you alright?", in which you replied with a nod.

risotto, the leader of the team, was the one who escorted you to their hideout as per polpo's command. he intimidated you at first, more likely because of the pair of his peculiar eyes, but eventually that unwanted feeling seem to subside as you two conversed about the team. he filled you in with the several members' different behaviours.

the rest of the day passed by with melone, being the pervert as he was, constantly threw you fits of florid words in poor attempt of flirting with you.

"come on, bambina. have you ever even held a gun before?", melone chuckled as he stood beside you rather closely. formaggio and illuso were watching from the corner of the room with indecipherable expressions.

"i haven't", you faced melone with your usual stoic look. it was the truth that you've never held a gun before. in fact, today was the first. his smug look retort into an amused one when he raised a brow at you.

"then perhaps you use your stand to fight?", he questioned in which you frowned at. you thinned your lips as a lie started to escape from it.

"that's right. i use my stand to fight."

back when polpo ordered you to protect the lighter's light for twenty-four hours, which you succeeded to do so by the way, he was amazed how you managed to do such impossible thing. from there he told you how you immediately earned his respect. he complimented you about your determination.

"and with that, i grant you the honor to light this", polpo handed you the unlit lighter. with the sound of a flick, you watched as the fire coming from the lighter grew massive and almost touched the ceiling of the prison cell.

there you met the stand you possessed, or rather possessed you.

it was a small and hooded figure, almost child-like, standing not more than four feet tall, blindfolded, dressed in tunic, and was equipped with a bamboo flute by its hand. its frigid and almost translucent complexion made it looked more like a ghost rather than a stand, in your opinion.

the just. out of all twelve stand cards, a just was what you drew. it was a perfect match for your personality.

you only summoned your stand just to examine its appearance. today was the first time you'd be using it in practice, meaning you haven't seen what it's capable of. the instrument in its hand was a giveaway hint, though.

as it stood in front of you, it gracefully put the flute up to its lips, emitting a pleasing sound to your ears. it faced the targeted mannequins few meters away. you closed your eyes, your quiet humming blended with the soft sound from the flute.

it was only a mere six seconds before you heard a grunt beside you. you shot your eyes open only to be met by the sight of melone bleeding from the stomach and mouth. you kneeled down to him, shocked. as you glanced towards the corner of the room, you saw illuso and formaggio clutching their also bleeding stomachs.

"what the fuck did you do?", you snarled to your stand. the figure faced you, its previous tranquil features now painted with anxiousness.

"do something— anything! j-just fucking turn them back!", you scowled and it desperately nodded.

your stand pursed its lips and blew to its flute. the instrument once again made a sound, but this time it pierced your ears. the shrill timbre made you clutch your ears. there's no rhythm at all! it was like multiple arrows were shooting your ears and straight aiming for your brain.

you felt your knees wobbled. seconds after that incident, you're on the ground, with both hands still on your ears. you felt a tap on your shoulder and only to see a leaning melone with a worried look before you blacked out.

it was ghiaccio's unsurprisingly loud voice that woke you up, yet your eyes remained close as you stir up and overheard the ongoing conversation.

"—can't control her stand? that's bullshit, anyone can control their own stands!", you heard him cussed.

"no, it's like— like her stand can understand her", said melone, not entirely getting straight to the point which made ghiaccio fume in anger.

"of course every stand can understand their users! where the fuck are you getting at with this, huh?"

"well, if you just let him finish then maybe it would make sense", it was prosciutto's voice that silenced ghiaccio.

"as i was saying, her stand can understand her but—", melone paused, trying to recall the incident from earlier, "it seems like she can't completely control its power."

the whole room was in complete silence. it may not seem like it, but everyone was thinking how it could be possible that one couldn't control their own stand power.

━━━━━━

ragazza — maid
bambina — baby girl