When a Good Deed Causes a Series of Unexpected Events - Chapter 7: Wayward
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You park your car right across from where the incident happened. Both you and Giorno step out of the car and head towards the scene of the kidnapping, ready to investigate.
The narrow alleyway stretches out before you, nestling between two neighboring restaurants, Trattoria Trussardi and Shing Market. This is where it happened. Where Matteo’s sister went missing.
Just as you were about to take your first step into the alley, Giorno’s hand unexpectedly reaches out, enveloping your own.
“Let me take the charge. Stay close,” he states.
You concede, realizing that stepping in by yourself with no means of protection is a foolish choice. With Giorno by your side, you both venture into the alley, your senses on high alert.
The only sources of lighting in this dimly lit alleyway are two feeble lightbulbs hanging above the backdoors of the adjacent restaurants. Further down the alley, you see a few flickering streetlamps, casting a faint glow over the small parking lot reserved for only the restaurant workers’ cars.
As you approach the backdoor of Trattoria Trussardi, your eyes catch sight of the flashlight Matteo dropped. You bend down and retrieve the flashlight with your free hand.
You recall what he told you, “Matteo said that he wasn’t sure why his sister was taking so long to take out the trash. He took his flashlight with him since the alleyway was dark.”
You glance towards the small parking lot and notice a portion of a large green trash bin to the left, being poorly lit up by another flickering streetlamp. “When he walked out, he saw his sister, yelling in the distance. She was only ten feet away from the trash can when a bright light suddenly overtook her whole form. He became blinded, dropping his flashlight. He went back into his family’s restaurant, panicking because he couldn’t see. The police nor his family could not locate Belladonna.”
You look up at Giorno and exchange a glance with him, both of you silently acknowledging the need for caution. You both enter the parking lot area and stand where the incident most likely occurred – ten feet from the trash can, possibly facing to the right.
You attempt to release your hand from Giorno’s, but to no avail.
“No. We stay together. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
You shrug, unaffected by his overtly protective stance. It makes sense, you propose. Afterall, he is the Stand User here, and he knows more about this stuff than you.
You begin to inspect the area. The parking lot is relatively clean, minus the few syringes in the corners and tiny potholes scattered about. The yellow lines indicating the space for a car are faded and need to be worked on. You don’t see anything out of the ordinary; it looks like a basic back-alley parking lot.
However, as Giorno crouches down to surveil the ground, you notice something peculiar about the wall right next to you. You point Matteo’s flashlight towards the wall and turn it on.
With the flashlight’s assistance, you can see the red brick wall sharply transition from a very light shade of red to a darker shade.
“Giorno, do you see this?” you ask.
“Yes,” he responds, “it seems the ground is also this way.”
You point your flashlight towards the ground to see what he is inspecting. The pavement also follows the same suit – from a light grey color to the familiar black pavement.
“The walls and pavement are two separate colors…” you think out loud, letting the gears turn in your head.
There is no reason why they should be different colors. The sun doesn’t even reach this place, it doesn’t look like there is an oil spill, and there are no signs of the walls being painted on.
“Whatever was here,” Giorno begins, “must’ve acted as a sunblock. The darker shade is the original. This is the only spot that has this lighter color.”
You shine your flashlight around the parking lot. He’s right; this spot is the only one in the facility.
You recall a documentary you’ve watched about the Hiroshima bombing. When the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, people close to the bomb instantly vaporized due to the amount of UV radiation, leaving shadows of people behind. These shadows happened because their bodies acted like a sunblock when the radiation bleached out everything around them, permanently marking what their last action was before they inevitably perished.
“She didn’t get kidnapped, she evaporated…” you say, stunned at the revelation.
“It’s the work of a Stand,” Giorno says with scrunched eyebrows. He stands up, “You were told there were multiple people disappearing, correct?”
You nod, “In fact, just across the street, the owner of the candy shop disappeared.”
The two of you head towards the front of the candy shop. Unlike the alley, the sidewalk is understandably well lit with there being a streetlamp brightly shining down upon the sidewalk every few feet.
As Giorno bends down to examine another bleached spot, you feel a deep sense of sorrow wash over you. The sign on the glass entrance door, 'Closed temporarily until my father is found,' carries the weight of a family's despair. You can't imagine the pain and uncertainty they must be going through. They’re hopeful he will come back, that his sudden disappearance is a misunderstanding, not knowing that he has passed.
You and Giorno look around, finding no immediate clues. Deciding it would be unsafe for you to stay in what’s now considered enemy territory, Giorno proposes to head back.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“I do not want to risk the two of us being in enemy territory.”
“Who the hell kills three people in the span on two days?” you ask, trying to wrap your head around this situation.
“A member of Superare.”
You tilt your head, “Superare? Is that the mafia in Foggia?”
“Yes, the reason why my boss wanted to talk business was because of territory issues-“
His words fade into the background as you catch a suspicious shimmer beneath a distant streetlamp. A gut feeling intensifies tenfold, signaling impending danger. Something is amiss; something is about to unfold. Without a moment to spare, you shove Giorno out of the way.
A deafening bang echoes.
Instead of the anticipated sharp sting, you buckle and awkwardly collapse to the ground like a rag doll.
You try to squirm.
You try to talk.
You try to move all parts of your body; all attempts prove futile.
Giorno acts with urgency, swiftly lifting you up off the ground and sprinting towards cover behind the candy shop. As he gently sets you down, your condition becomes his immediate concern. Leaning you against the brick building, he observes your inability to sit properly;’ you slump back down to the ground. Picking up your arm and releasing it, he notices how it immediately falls limp. It becomes evident that even the simplest movements, such as blinking, are out of your capabilities.
“You can’t move.” He comments, “What do the Americans say? It’s like a deer caught in the headlights…”
A figure emerges from the corner of your stilled vision. In response, Giorno takes his brooch and summons a vine to envelop the two of you. You hear two pairs of footsteps, circling the barrier Giorno created.
“Don Giovanna,” the man starts, “My, what a pleasure it is.”
Another deafening bang pierces through the air, but the expected silence does not follow. Instead, a whizzing sound reverberates outside the barrier, echoing as if bouncing off unseen surfaces, until you feel a sharp sting in your left arm,
You’ve been shot.
Astonishingly, a bullet found its way through a miniscule gap in Giorno’s vines.
Another bang, another whizz, and Giorno stumbles, a grunt escaping him.
“Merda. I suoi proiettili sono simili ai Sex Pistols.”
You’re both ensnared, backs to the wall struggling to find a solution. Giorno, formidable as he is, struggles to shield you; you’ve unwittingly become an impediment to his victory. Your heart pulls at knowing this.
You want to support him.
You want to protect him.
However, you find yourself unable to move, drifting in and out of consciousness. You feel utterly useless, unable to provide the support you desperately wish to offer. Yet, this hopeless feeling sparks a newfound sense of determination sparks within your core.
I will support him, and I will protect him.
A yellow hue envelops you, and something surges within you. Your attention is drawn to a gleam racing towards Giorno just before succumbing to the weight of your eyelids. One of the Stands is inspired by a fic I read a while ago. I don't remember who wrote it, but when I find it, I will credit it.