Chapter Text
Jotaro walked out of the airport toward the pickup area, suitcase in hand. The Italian spring was warm, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to living in Florida. At least there was the sea breeze to offer some freshness to the air.
"Signore Kujo?"
Jotaro looked up to see a man dressed neatly in a suit, standing beside a large, black car.
Jotaro gave him a nod. "That's me."
The man motioned toward the car and opened the back door for him. "Don Giorno's compliments, signore. He's instructed me to drive you to the mansion."
Jotaro frowned slightly, admittedly a little annoyed that Giorno Giovanna had sent an errand boy to get him from the airport. He supposed the Don of a mafia organization couldn't really be bothered to do that sort of thing himself, but Jotaro had been sure Polnareff at least would have been there to meet him. The Frenchman had seemed genuinely excited for Jotaro to come visit them in Italy and he had always been the hospitable type.
Jotaro began to worry that maybe Polnareff's condition after his injuries might be worse than the Frenchman had admitted to. If that was the case, then it might keep him from going out as much.
He realized the man was still waiting for him and finally got into the car as his chauffeur loaded his bag into the back.
Jotaro watched the Italian city pass outside the window. He'd been here only once before on an errand for the Speedwagon Foundation but hadn't gotten too much time to look around. Koichi had gushed about it when he'd come back, and had given Jotaro several suggestions on places to go.
Upon remembering that Polnareff was a sports fan, Jotaro had decided on getting tickets to a game that would be happening the week he would be there. He hoped the Frenchman would enjoy it, even if Jotaro wasn't a huge football fan.
The trip wasn't entirely for pleasure though. Part of the reason Jotaro was here was to get a better read on Giorno Giovanna. It wasn't that he didn't trust Polnareff's judgement, it was more that he was sure he would better be able to tell if Giorno had managed to hide anything from the Frenchman. Like it or not, Giorno and Jotaro were linked through blood, and there had always been a certain connection that anyone possessing Joestar blood had.
It wasn't too long of a drive and Jotaro, again, found himself holding back a snort as they pulled up in front of a huge mansion. It seemed like Giorno was settling in well enough to his new position. Polnareff was really living the high life now.
His chauffer insisted on carrying Jotaro's suitcase as they walked up the path to the front door, but before the man could reach for the knob, the door was opened and Jotaro found himself facing Giorno Giovanna.
"Buongiorno," the teen said with what looked to be a tentative smile before he switched to Japanese. "You must be Dr. Jotaro Kujo."
Jotaro furrowed his brow and reached out to take the proffered hand Giorno stretched toward him. He admittedly squeezed harder than normal, but Giorno didn't pull away or make a face.
"And you must be Giorno Giovanna," Jotaro said in pointed Italian.
"Ah, I wasn't aware you spoke any Italian." Giorno seemed surprised by this. "If you would prefer, I can translate Japanese for you, while you're here—"
Jotaro shook his head, cutting in. "That won't be necessary."
Giorno pressed his lips together, but seemed to remember his manners and stepped aside, sweeping his arm toward the open doorway. "Please, come in. Can I show you to your room?"
"I'd like to see Polnareff first," Jotaro said as he stepped inside, looking around, still expecting the Frenchman to appear at any moment. "Where is he, anyway?"
Giorno nodded. "Of course. Polnareff is in his room right now. I'll show you the way."
He started off down a hallway with Jotaro following behind.
He studied the boy as they went, and frankly didn't see much of Dio in him, at least not at the moment. Aside from the blond hair, there weren't many similarities. Giorno was small, barely reaching to Jotaro's shoulder, and there was a certain nervousness about him.
Maybe his nervousness had something to do with Jotaro though, and if that was the case, then good, the man thought a little spitefully.
"Dr. Kujo…" Giorno said as he took another turn and slowed down as they approached a door at the end of the hallway. "How much has Polnareff told you about his… condition?"
Jotaro furrowed his brow, anxieties from earlier resurfacing. Just how bad off was Polnareff? "I know Diavolo injured him badly and that he's been wheelchair bound for some time. Is there something else I should know?"
Giorno's face didn't betray anything as he reached for the doorknob. "It's better he explains it," was all he said.
Jotaro followed him into the room, which was stuffy and had some kind of enclosure with heatlamps on one side of it. Jotaro was even more confounded as he looked around and didn't see any sign of the Frenchman. In fact, all he could see in the room was a turtle.
"What the hell is this? Where's Polnareff?" Jotaro demanded.
"Jotaro? Is that you, my old friend?"
The area above the turtle's shell flickered and a shape appeared, poking out of it.
Jotaro blinked, not knowing what he was looking at to begin with. Well, it looked like Polnareff, but he was tiny and sticking out the top of the turtle's shell. Jotaro also realized then with growing horror, that he could see right through Polnareff.
"Polnareff?" he breathed, incredulous. "What the hell?"
The Frenchman gave a sad smile. "I can explain, mon ami. Please, would you come in?"
Jotaro stared at him as Polnareff disappeared, but Giorno stepped forward.
"The turtle's Stand acts as a room," Giorno explained, beckoning. "Here, I'll show you."
He stepped forward, foot toward the turtle's back, but instead of crushing the poor animal, the blond teen simply disappeared into the red jewel of a key that was set into the turtle's back. Jotaro stared for a couple suspicious minutes before he did the same.
In the blink of an eye he found himself in a cozy room fully furnished and everything.
And there was Polnareff, standing beside Giorno, a broad smile on his face as he met Jotaro's eyes.
"JoJo, it's been a long time, hasn't it, mon ami?" he asked.
Jotaro stared at him for a long moment, but finally stepped forward, unable to help smiling back as he embraced his friend tightly.
"It's really good to see you again," he said sincerely.
Giorno stood by, looking slightly awkward before he said, "I'm sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do. I'll see you both at dinner."
Once he was gone, Jotaro pulled back, holding Polnareff by the shoulders as he looked him over. He felt solid, but he had a feeling that something wasn't right.
"Polnareff," he started and then stopped, not sure how to voice what he knew he had to ask. "Are you…"
"Dead?" Polnareff said for him, a sadness creeping into his eyes. "In a sense, yes, but not entirely. My soul is bound to the turtle. I can't leave here, but it provides me with continued existence."
Jotaro felt his heart crack. Overwhelmed by this new information that he had not in any way expected, he slowly staggered toward one of the couches and sank down, burying his face in his hands for the moment as he tried to make sense of everything.
He finally looked up to see Polnareff sitting in a chair opposite him, and rubbed a hand over his face as he said, "You'd better explain all of it to me."
And Polnareff did. It was a couple hours and several cups of tea later when Jotaro had gotten the full explanation. It didn't make him feel any better about the situation, but at least he was up to date.
"I just don't understand why you didn't tell me," Jotaro said.
Polnareff set his mostly drunk cup of tea down carefully on the coffee table. "Honestly? I wasn't really sure how to go about telling you. I thought that it was something that would be better said in person. Besides, it truly is a strange situation, isn't it? I wasn't sure you'd believe me."
Jotaro sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He felt truly tired. He'd hoped that seeing his old friend again might help alleviate some of his grievances—he didn't have a lot of people he could talk to candidly. But all he could feel was just more guilt piling on. Just another person he hadn't been there for when they needed him.
"Polnareff…" he hesitated, before he wet his lips and bit out, "I'm sorry."
The Frenchman looked at him in surprise. "What are you sorry for, Jotaro?"
Jotaro gave his friend an incredulous look. "For…everything. Not only did you face Diavolo alone, but I never came to visit you; I barely asked how you were doing. And now this? I knew I should have come to Italy as soon as Koichi told me about Giorno, and maybe if I had—"
"Jotaro, all of that is in the past, mon ami," Polnareff told him, raising his hands in a placating gesture, a soft expression on his face. "I have never once thought that you were avoiding me or anything like that. I know you have had a lot going on as well. Besides, I'm actually happier now than I have been for a long time."
Jotaro wasn't sure that made him feel any better. Did that make him an awful person? "You're really happy here with Dio's kid?" he asked, voice a little gruff.
Polnareff gave him a look. "Jotaro, I know what you might be thinking, but I promise you that Giorno is not Dio's son. Not in any way that we have to be concerned about. He reminds me a lot more of you and Joseph, and I think you'll realize that too once you get to know him."
That irked Jotaro more than he was willing to admit. It was on the tip of his tongue to question whether Polnareff was sure he wasn't being brainwashed by the kid, but he decided to drop it. He didn't want to raise contention when he'd only just gotten here. He was still a guest.
"Well, I'm glad you're happy at least," he managed, picking up his tea again. "You do look well—despite everything."
Polnareff laughed. "Well, that's good to hear at least! Tell me, how is Joseph?"
"Still kicking, if you can believe it," Jotaro said with a fond shake of his head.
Polnareff grinned. "Sounds like him. And what about Jolyne? I bet she's growing up, isn't she?"
Jotaro's stomach twisted slightly, especially recalling the angry look he'd gotten from his daughter when he'd told her that he would have to go overseas again.
"You're always leaving! You never stay long enough to do anything with me anymore!"
His wife hadn't even bothered to say anything, simply shrugged when he'd told her about his trip.
Polnareff seemed to see that there was something he wasn't saying and gave him a sympathetic look. "If there's anything you want to talk about, JoJo…"
Another figure suddenly appeared in the turtle—a blond teen in a green suit—bowing his head slightly toward Polnareff in apology for interrupting.
"Giorno asked me to come tell you that dinner is ready."
"Ah, perfect," Polnareff said, turning to Jotaro. "If you could carry the turtle into the dining room for me? It's a lot easier than having to make the trip by foot."
Jotaro suddenly remembered Polnareff's actual position, and silently acquiesced. It was going to take him a while to get used to this.
~~~~~~
Giorno milled around awkwardly for most of the afternoon. He didn't really know what to think of Jotaro Kujo. To be fair, he hadn't exactly spent more than a few minutes around the man yet, but he couldn't help but feel that Jotaro didn't exactly trust him. That he might even feel hostile toward Giorno. He wasn't really sure how that made him feel. Disappointed? Maybe a little bit. He'd really been hoping that he could get to know Jotaro better, if nothing else than for Polnareff's sake. The week was still young, of course, but it looked like that might be a feat.
"Are you all right?"
Giorno turned from where he had been aimlessly staring out a window to see Fugo standing behind him. He sighed and leaned back against the windowsill.
"I'm fine."
Fugo gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure that Dr. Kujo just needs a little time to warm up to you. Polnareff will likely put him in a better mood."
"Yeah, I know," Giorno replied, still squirming slightly. He honestly wasn't sure what Jotaro would think about Polnareff's current state. It must have been a shock to him to find his friend like that. Definitely enough to put anyone into a sour mood.
He glanced at the clock. "It's almost dinner time. Could you please go and let Polnareff and Dr. Kujo know?"
Fugo nodded. "Mista and Sheila said they'll be back by morning, by the way, so it will just be the four of us."
Giorno pursed his lips with a nod. He would have liked to have Mista's easy-going attitude at the table that night, but he was sure that Polnareff would be able to keep the conversation going well enough.
About ten minutes later found them all gathered around the table. Jotaro brought Polnareff in and set the turtle on top of the table to Giorno's right before taking the seat next to him.
"Thank you, mon ami," Polnareff said, his ghostly form poking out from the top of the turtle so he could more easily take part in the conversation.
Giorno watched Jotaro sit, looking around with a frown as the kitchen staff came in.
"I'd like to take a moment to officially welcome you to Italy, Dr. Kujo," Giorno said, lifting a glass of wine. "And also introduce you to one of my associates, Pannacotta Fugo."
Fugo nodded to Jotaro across the table as the man greeted him.
"I've read several of your papers, Dr. Kujo, and found them very fascinating," Fugo said. "I'd love to discuss a few of them with you while you're here if you have the time."
"Well, thank you," Jotaro said, seeming to loosen up a bit as the first course was served. "I'd be happy to."
"I think you and Fugo would get along quite well, Jotaro," Polnareff said. "You're both men of intellect."
Jotaro gave a tight smile, looking all together uncomfortable.
"I hope your trip was okay," Giorno said, trying to make small talk.
"It was uneventful," Jotaro replied.
"If I may," Fugo commented, picking up his fork, "Your Italian is very good, Dr. Kujo. Where did you learn?"
Jotaro pressed his lips together briefly but Polnareff was already answering for him.
"Ah, Jotaro's grandmother is Italian," the Frenchman said with a smile.
Jotaro nodded. "She and my mother taught me to speak it as a child. I'm afraid I might be a bit rusty."
"Not at all," Fugo insisted and he was right. Even his accent was good. Giorno remembered how hard that was to learn when they first moved to Italy.
Polnareff turned to Giorno then. "I've been trying to think of places to show Jotaro around while he's in the city, Giorno. Where do you think would be a good place to start?"
Giorno glanced up from his plate. "Well, there's quite a few museums and other historical attractions around—even Pompeii is only a day's trip away." Not that Giorno was particularly eager to go back to Pompeii but he didn't really want to say that either. "And of course, there's the coast. Our beaches are lovely here."
"I spend a lot of time at the beach," Jotaro said, then turned to Polnareff, looking slightly hesitant before he said, "I did get tickets for us to go watch a football game, but…" he trailed off, shrugging.
"Ah, I appreciate the gesture, Jotaro," Polnareff said sincerely. "Perhaps it wouldn't be the best idea, though, considering."
Giorno pursed his lips in thought. He might be able to figure something out, but he was pulled back into the conversation as Polnareff continued.
"I think we could manage a day at the beach all together, though," the Frenchman said. "There's some very nice, secluded areas. Does that sound doable, GioGio?"
"That would be—"
"I think that's—"
Giorno suddenly cut himself off as he and Jotaro both started talking at once. Giorno flamed in embarrassment.
Polnareff laughed. "Ah, forgive me, I have two JoJos now. I meant Giorno."
That seemed to make Jotaro genuinely angry. He set his fork down and wiped his mouth slowly. "You know it's a family nickname, right?" he asked.
Polnareff turned to his friend as Giorno felt like he wanted to disappear into his chair. "I'm aware, Jotaro. But he is Jonathan's son as well. I think he has a right to the family nickname."
"Stolen like Jonathan's body?" Jotaro muttered under his breath but Giorno could hear him well enough and apparently so did Polnareff because his face suddenly soured.
"Jotaro, that's not very kind of you."
Jotaro held up a hand. "You're right, I apologize, Giorno. That's no way to repay your hospitality. I'm sure you can understand that it's a bit of a sore topic."
"I understand," Giorno said stiffly, unable to stay completely genuine. He didn't want to admit just how much it hurt that Jotaro challenged his right to the nickname Polnareff had given to him. It had been their special thing, the name that made Giorno feel more like family, not just to Polnareff, but part of the Joestar legacy. A part of him that wasn't Dio. His mother or stepfather had never given him fond nicknames, had barely bothered to call him by anything other than insults. For someone to insinuate he had no right to the nickname made him feel sick inside.
Jotaro turned back to Polnareff. "Perhaps we could do the beach later this week? I'm interested to visit Pompeii—never got the chance to."
Giorno tried to hide his further annoyance, but nodded. "I have tomorrow free."
"Excellent!" Polnareff clapped his hands. "That will work out nicely then."
The rest of dinner wasn't exactly pleasant, despite Polnareff's attempts to bring the conversation back around to less controversial topics than family nicknames. The tension between Giorno and Jotaro was almost palpable.
Giorno excused himself as soon as it was polite to do so, using the excuse that he had to see to a little more work for the night.
Fugo found him before he could completely disappear.
"Hey, just wanted to see if you were all right," the other young man asked.
Giorno sighed as he sat down at his desk. "I'm fine."
Fugo pursed his lips. "I don't know the entire situation between you and Dr. Kujo and your families, but if you need to talk, I'm here."
"Thank you, but…it's complicated. I am all right, though. Really." He forced a smile to try and prove it. "I'm sure Dr. Kujo and I will come to an understanding before long."
At least, Giorno hoped they would, because if they didn't, then he feared that things would also get awkward between him and Polnareff and if that happened, Polnareff might choose to go back with Jotaro.
Giorno's stomach felt even more sick as his mind cruelly provided all the possibilities.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay going to Pompeii?" Fugo questioned then, snapping Giorno out of his brooding thoughts.
"Of course," he replied.
Fugo gave him a slightly skeptical look. "I hope it's okay that I stay here tomorrow? I have some work to do and…well…I don't think going back there would be good for me just yet."
Giorno nodded in understanding. "That's fine, I understand. I'll have Mista drive us."
Fugo nodded, looking rather relieved and bid Giorno goodnight.
Giorno worked for a little bit longer before the thoughts about Polnareff leaving with Jotaro became too invasive to keep his mind on his current task. Why did his mind have to be so cruel as to come up with those kinds of scenarios?
"You're being ridiculous," he muttered to himself finally, shutting his desk lamp off and getting up, deciding he would go to bed.
He heard Jotaro and Polnareff speaking in the library and slid past the doorway without saying goodnight. Hopefully, things would go more smoothly tomorrow.
~~~~~~~
The next morning found Giorno, Jotaro, Mista and Polnareff gathered outside the mansion after breakfast. Mista seemed friendly enough toward their guest, introducing himself first thing.
"You must be Jotaro Kujo—I'm Guido Mista. It's nice to finally meet you."
The gunman shook Jotaro's hand enthusiastically before turning to Giorno with a grin. "You want me to call for the limo today?"
Giorno felt Jotaro's eyes on him, judging, and felt embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. "No, the regular car will do, Mista."
"Suit yourself," the gunman shrugged and went to get the keys and pull the car around.
"It's nice to get out and see new things," Polnareff said from the carrier that Jotaro was currently holding.
"I assume you stay home most of the time?" Jotaro asked.
"Unfortunately, I have little choice. I can't go much farther than the back garden by myself," Polnareff admitted. "But Giorno's kind enough to bring me to this one park we both quite enjoy. It's always very quiet and it gives me a chance to get a change of scenery."
"Hm," Jotaro replied, seeming to be deep in thought, as Mista drove the car up and parked in the circle for everyone to get in.
Giorno and Jotaro both climbed into the backseat with Polnareff's carrier between them. The seats might have been spacious, but being this close to Jotaro with his stern expression that showed up every time he looked in Giorno's direction made it feel uncomfortably enclosed.
"Alright, let's go," Mista said as he pulled out of the drive and started on the trip outside the city.
The trip started out a little awkwardly silent, which Mista obviously picked up on because he started to fill the silence with general chatter.
"So, Signore Kujo, Giorno said you're distant family—how exactly are you related?"
Giorno would have strangled his bodyguard if he could have in that moment. Of all the things Mista could have brought up…
"We're only distantly related," Jotaro cut in quickly before Giorno could say anything. "…Through my great, great grandfather."
"Ah, right," Mista said, glancing into the rearview mirror. "Well, it's nice that you could come. Giorno doesn't have a lot of family. It's good to know he has someone else out there."
Giorno wanted to sink into the seat and disappear. Jotaro didn't say anything but his brows knitted even further.
Thankfully, Polnareff cut in. "It was nice of Jotaro to come so far to visit. Tell me, mon ami, How is Star Platinum?"
Jotaro shrugged slightly. ,"I don't have much reason to call on him these days."
Giorno, trying to be polite asked, "Star Platinum is your Stand, correct?"
Jotaro glanced over at him briefly. "Yes."
"Have you seen Giorno's Stand yet?" Mista asked.
"I have not," Jotaro replied in a stiff voice.
"Gold Experience is really something," Mista continued, shaking his head. "Scariest Stand I've ever seen in my life—and that's saying something. Really don't want to get on the wrong side of Giorno. You should have seen what he—"
Polnareff cleared his throat to cut Mista off. "Yes, well, Giorno's Stand also has the ability to heal and create life. Half the flowers in the back garden are ones Giorno made out of recycling trash."
"Interesting," Jotaro said, and Giorno could see the older man staring at him with dark eyes from under the brim of his hat. He didn't add anything to the conversation, simply turning to look out the window, silently begging Mista to stop bringing up topics that really shouldn't be discussed.
Aside from Polnareff's comments on the countryside, the ride was mostly silent until they pulled up to the historical site.
"Here we are," Mista called cheerily.
Giorno felt a sharp sense of déjà vu as they drove in and parked in the visitor lot. He quickly swallowed it down though as they got out of the car and made their way into the old structures.
Thankfully, there weren't more than a couple other tourists milling around that day so they should be able to enjoy their time without having to worry about anyone seeing Polnareff.
"Ah, this is exciting," Polnareff exclaimed happily as Jotaro carried him at his side. "I've wanted to see Pompeii for a long time—such a famous location."
"It is a lot different seeing it in person," Jotaro admitted, seeming to loosen up a little as he looked around.
Giorno on the other hand was feeling less and less relaxed. It seemed like everywhere he looked, there was an area he remembered that had played a crucial role in their fight with Man in the Mirror. Right away, he spotted the place Fugo had initially become aware of Illuso. There was no mirror there any longer, of course, but there were still obviously places where bricks had been broken relatively recently. Somewhere, there was probably still the brick he had turned into the snake he'd used for Purple Haze's antidote. In fact, just a little further down one way, was the spot Giorno had almost died after purposefully getting himself infected by Fugo's Stand.
"Giorno?"
He jumped slightly, heartbeat racing until he realized it was just Mista, looking slightly concerned.
"You good, man? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night," Giorno said, trying to brush off his nervousness.
"Well, let me know if you start to feel faint in the sun. It's pretty warm today," Mista said.
Giorno pursed his lips in annoyance. That would be fantastic, pretending heatstroke in front of Jotaro. He'd probably come to the conclusion that Giorno might have some of Dio's vampire genes as well.
"I'll be okay. Are you ready to go sight-seeing?"
"Sure," Mista replied and the two of them hurried to catch up to Jotaro and Polnareff who had moved off without them.
It was at least nice to see how much Polnareff seemed to enjoy the outing. He and Jotaro chatted for the most part, Mista joining in on occasion, as Giorno trailed behind them. He realized he was being a terrible host, but at that same time, it seemed like every attempt he made to talk to Jotaro just didn't go well.
So he fell away from the group until he found himself wandering amongst the abandoned city alone. Normally, he would have been happy to be around only his own thoughts, but here, he just couldn't shake the feeling that an enemy could jump out at any minute, attacking from a mirror world.
A glint caught his eye and he froze, breath catching in his throat and Gold rippling just under his skin, before he realized it was just a foil wrapper from someone's snack food on the ground.
Giorno bent to throw it away in the nearest trashcan and glanced at the building he had reached.
Inside, he could see a mosaic floor with the depiction of the dog on it.
Memory rushed in sickeningly as he recalled Abbacchio's brave fight against Illuso to get the key, going so far as to cut off his own hand to see the mission through. That was when Giorno and the older gangster had started to share a quiet respect for each other.
Actually, thinking about it, Abbacchio did remind Giorno a little bit of Jotaro. Though at least his father hadn't been responsible for killing Abbacchio's ancestor. It might take a little longer to gain respect after history like that.
He wondered briefly if he and Abbacchio would have continued to get to know each other better. He could have seen the man being a mentor to him, honestly. Abbacchio had been someone fully grounded in reality and it had been obvious that Bucciarati had valued his opinion highly. Giorno was sure he could have come to do the same had he been given the chance.
He swallowed hard, and headed away from the spot, taking a moment to pause in the shade of a wall.
That was when he realized exactly where he was. This was the spot Abbacchio had collapsed, nearly bleeding out before the others arrived and Bucciarati had been able to save his hand with Sticky Fingers.
Giorno stared at the ground, a deep depression weighing him down, before he caught sight something rusty caked in between the bricks. His breath caught in his throat as he realized it was entirely possible some of Abbacchio's blood was still here.
The vision of Abbacchio's blood on his hands at the beach assaulted him, and he slumped against the wall, trying to breathe through the unavoidable memories.
The sound of slow, approaching footsteps startled him out of his vision and Giorno suddenly held his breath, frozen in terror, ready for whoever came around that corner.
He briefly caught sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye, something glinting, reflecting the sunlight to nearly blind him—
"Gold Experience!"
His Stand exploded out of him, going to attack the figure.
"Muda!"
But his Stand's blow was stopped by a solid arm and Giorno found himself staring at a huge, purple figure with flowing dark hair.
A gauntleted hand was around Gold's throat before Giorno could make another move, slamming the Stand back against the wall.
Giorno choked, staggering. He could feel the surge of energy and terror as Gold shifted and took on his Requiem form.
Giorno wasn't sure what would have happened next, if Polnareff's voice hadn't cried out.
"Jotaro, stop! Let him go!"
That was when Giorno saw the second figure behind the Stand that currently had a hold of Gold Experience. It was Jotaro, but with an expression on his face that could almost be considered haunted.
He shook himself slightly at Polnareff's shout and looked around, catching Giorno's eye.
"Jotaro!"
Star Platinum finally released Gold and Jotaro stepped back. Giorno caught another glint, but this time he could tell that it was just the pin on Jotaro's hat. What the hell had gotten into his head?
Giorno sucked in a breath and dispersed his Stand as well, leaning against the wall.
Mista hurried up, Polnareff's carrier in his hand.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded.
"Jotaro I don't understand why you were trying to strangle Giorno's stand!" Polnareff accused.
Jotaro shifted, eyes narrowing as he turned to Giorno. "He attacked me first. I was defending myself."
"Giorno attacked you?"
Giorno pushed forward, trying to find the words to defuse this situation. "It was my fault. I thought…I thought he was someone else. I'm sorry. The last time I was here, I was fighting a battle against an enemy Stand user and I lost myself for a moment."
He refrained from pressing a hand to his throat where he could still feel the pressure from Star Platinum's strong fingers. "I think I'm going to sit in the car for a moment."
"I think I'm done here, anyway," Jotaro muttered, taking Polnareff's carrier back from Mista as the gunman hurried after Giorno.
"Hey, I told you to let me know if you weren't all right," Mista accused as he caught Giorno up at the car.
"I didn't until I wasn't," he admitted. "I was just…thinking about Abbacchio and what happened the last time we were here."
Mista gave him a sympathetic look as he reached into the trunk for a water bottle. "Here, drink. Look, I get it. I'm sorry it wasn't a good trip. I was hoping we'd have a fun day out."
Giorno didn't say anything. He'd been hoping that too. Instead he had ruined everything and probably made his non-existent relationship with Jotaro even worse.
~~~~~~~
"Jotaro, I want to speak with you, if you would come to my room?"
Jotaro glanced down at Polnareff as they sat silently in the car while Mista pulled out of the parking lot, and reached toward the key, finding himself inside the turtle room within a blink of an eye.
The Frenchman stood, arms folded over his chest, glowering at Jotaro.
"What exactly did you think you were doing using your Stand against Giorno like that?" he demanded.
Jotaro felt indignation rise up inside of him, the all-too-familiar Stand cry echoing in his ears still. "I told you, he attacked first and I reacted on instinct. How the hell was I supposed to know it was Giorno in the heat of the moment? Besides, you know his Stand cry, right? How exactly do you expect me to react to that?"
It wasn't like he'd heard that a million times out of Dio's mouth as he was fighting for his life in Cairo all those years ago now, sure that all of his companions were dead or dying. Maybe he'd reacted without thinking, but his mind had only been on one thing and he'd simply reacted nonetheless.
"And that still doesn't explain why Giorno attacked me in the first place."
Polnareff sighed, running a hand over his face. "That's probably partly my fault. I completely forgot that he had been here before while they were tracking down Diavolo. I suppose I was under the impression that they just came here to retrieve an object, but if there was a fight, then I'm sure you will agree that it is understandable that Giorno reacted the way he did."
Jotaro had to nod in agreement. He knew how trauma worked. He'd suffered hyperawareness for a long time after coming home from Egypt. He'd seen in in Josuke too after his fight with Kira. For a long time, any remotely loud sounds, fireworks, cars backfiring, had sent him into panic attacks. Thinking of his uncle, Jotaro supposed he should start seeing Giorno as the kid he was instead of Dio's spawn, and the Don of a powerful mafia.
"Then why, may I ask, do you seem to be making it your duty to scare Giorno?"
Jotaro's thoughts paused at the Frenchman's accusatory words, staring at Polnareff incredulously. "What are you talking about?"
"You can't tell?" Polnareff asked. "Giorno's practically terrified of you. He already looks at you like you might attack him at any moment, and frankly, that is how you look at him. As someone's who's been on the receiving end of that look, I should know."
Jotaro furrowed his brow, perplexed. "I do?"
Polnareff gave him a look. "I know you have a stern resting face, mon ami, but tone it down a little? Giorno truly wants nothing but to fit in with what little family he has. His home life was terrible growing up—and I've had the misfortune to meet his mother and stepfather. I know you see him as nothing but Dio's child—Giorno used to see himself that way too after I explained everything to him. But please remember that he's also Jonathan's child."
"He has a Requiem power," Jotaro pointed out. "That doesn't worry you?"
"No," Polnareff admitted.
"Can he even control it?"
Polnareff hesitated. "Requiem Stands act on their own. But Gold Experience doesn't take the Requiem form unless the Stand itself feels that Giorno is threatened."
"So that's why it shifted today?"
Polnareff sighed. "Star Platinum is a very powerful Stand. Gold Experience marked that when you attacked Giorno. I am positive that Giorno wouldn't have let it hurt you though."
Jotaro wasn't so sure. But despite his mistrust of the Requiem power Giorno possessed, he genuinely hadn't been trying to straight up scare the kid. Intimidate a little…maybe. But maybe Polnareff was right. He had to work a little harder to make sure he was putting in an effort to get to know Giorno. He couldn't promise he would ever come to actually like the kid, but stranger things had happened.
"I'm sorry if I caused the kid any distress," he muttered.
"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," Polnareff said simply.
Jotaro sighed and tugged his hat down over his eyes further in a familiar gesture. He began to wonder if this trip had been a good idea after all.