Wanderling

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure
Summary: Giorno and Mista arrive at the location for their not-date.
Word Count: 1157
Spoilers for the end of Vento Aureo/Golden Wind.  Like canon, ambiguously shippy (mostly because Mista still has no idea he's actually in love with Giorno. he's a bit oblivious that way)
Occurs after Jealousy.

         Giorno’s more still than normal.  He’s usually fairly still and quiet usually—poise, Mista thinks Fugo had referred to it once.  Every action, thought, word is deliberate, and graceful.  But now it’s like he’s trying to…repress his excitement or something?  Mista had a hard time imagining Giorno as happy or excited or typical anything, but he kind of wishes he wouldn’t hold back because he’s pretty sure that would be adorable.
         They park a block away.  Mista gets out and turns to Giovanna to ask, when Gold Experience appears and turns the car into a golden flower which he tucks carefully into one of his jean pockets.  Maybe he’d just been trying to do that where no one else would notice.
         He pinks a little when he notices Mista’s stare, which is unusual.  He’s usually hard to startle, or, well, at least he doesn’t show it if he is.  “An easy precaution against car thieves or saboteurs.”
         Mista can’t help but laugh.  “Who’d dare steal from you, Boss?”  He doesn’t bother to question the second part.  He can count a couple off the top of his hand who are jealous of the success (Capperi, Nocciola, and Guanciale) and even more members of Passione who underestimate the young-appearing Don (Frico, Agnolotti, Fusilli, Penne, and Mezzani).
         “Speaking from experience, if you’re stealing a car it’s because you liked how it looked on the street and the owner was certainly not around.  Picking pockets requires slightly more planning and forethought.”  Giorno’s matter-of-fact as he places his hands in his pockets, craning his neck a little and closing his eyes against the breeze gently ruffling the braid.
         The air of mystery, Mista realizes, shocked, had definitely had them all speculating about who this newcomer was and where he’d come from.  It had probably started with Narancia speculating about how he’d managed to drink Abbachio’s piss and continued in a more general way.  Only Abbacchio—and Bucciarati—had refused to speculate.  Abbacchio had suggested something about a demon (Mista had taken it as a joke at the time, but given how Bruno had quickly shown his disapproval it might not honestly have been) and Bucciarati just…smiled and suggested they move on.  But the shocking thing is, he’d never actually expected to have answers.  Even if he’d wondered, for example, about him maybe being a thief, Giorno actually saying such things aloud made them real.  Made him human, not a saint or devil.
         “You were a thief?” bursts out of him before he realizes.  It’s a dumb, obvious thing to say, but he’s not thinking properly, still hung up on the shock and questions.
         In response, Giorno merely smiles angelically, holding up—
         That’s his wallet.
         “It’s good to keep in practice,” he explains.  “And I’m not acting now as the Don of Passione, so I’d prefer it if you call me by my name, Mista.”
         The thought feels vaguely sacrilegious, and Mista has a sudden urge to go to a confessional, but he wills that away, even as he calls out his Stand.  He doesn’t have to explain their task to them, as they’ve already been over the plan multiple times complete with food rewards for the ones that followed along and got the answers right.  They spread out to scout.  “S-sure thing, Gi-Giorno.”
         Giorno hands the wallet back and he takes it numbly.
         “The best targets were often other pickpockets,” Giorno continues calmly, ignoring the fact that Mista appears to have forgotten how to speak.  “They tended to have more money, and expected it less.  Also, it was a challenge.”
         “I can see that,” Mista nods, strolling alongside his shorter bo—friend.  “I mean, I went to shooting ranges a couple times, but it just got too easy, so I quit.  Live targets are a lot harder.”
         Giovanna hums thoughtfully.  “I don’t suppose you’ve ever had an interest in hunting.”
         Mista’s pretty sure that this wasn’t meant as a trap, but he proceeds warily anyway.  “I thought you were against hunting.”  He swallows the ‘Boss’ and hopes Giorno didn’t notice (which, duh, of course he probably had; the golden young adult notices everything).
         That radiant smile is going to kill him, he swears.  If one of Giorno’s reckless plans doesn’t first—but then, he’s being harsh.  His initial assessment continues to be proven—that Giorno is supremely lucky, so of course all his tactics work out.  Definitely that smile, then.  “For trophies.  It’s perverse how humans feel the need to prove themselves by extinguishing life and bragging about it, don’t you think?”
         Instantly Mista feels bad.  It must show on his face, because Giorno’s hand is instantly on his arm.  “In nature, animals fight to protect themselves or the ones they care about, or to eat.  It’s noble.  A majestic lion feels no guilt after killing an antelope for food or a pack of hyenas who attack its pack.  You shouldn’t either.”
         Giorno is awkward, more than anything, when attempting to comfort.  He probably hasn’t had a lot of experience, unlike Bucciarati.  Still—hang on—“Did you just compare me to the king of beasts?”
         That’s an ego-booster, and judging by Giorno’s shy smile, he knows it.
         “Eh, I don’t know.  Hunting for food might be interesting, but I’ve heard a lot about parasites.”  He shrugs.  “I don’t mind shooting idiots who threaten you guys, or stand in your way, Boss—er, Giovanna.  There are enough of them that I get enough practice anyway.”
         “Cooking does eliminate the danger in a number of instances, but I see your point.”  They’re already nearly at the entrance, and already Mista feels very privileged, to be told things about Giorno Giovanna that he’s pretty sure no one’s actually been told before.  It’s uncomfortable to be reminded that Giorno is a human being like him, but it also feels like an honor to be able to see this.
         They wait in line, and while Giorno gets in a conversation with an elderly couple in front of them who seem about ready to adopt him, Mista gets lost in thought.
         For some, it’s far too easy to see Don Giovanna simply as his age.  They think he’s young and inexperienced.  An easy target.  But the way he holds himself, his easy assurance and his extreme competence…it’s far too easy to take the other approach, to forget about Giorno’s age entirely and see him as something beyond human.
         But that’s…very deliberate.  Everything about him has been crafted to demonstrate that he’s not weak.  It’s not exactly a false face, but it’s not the truth either.  He doesn’t think he can show weakness, or surprise, or that he doesn’t know something.  He doesn’t think he can actually express his emotions, and doesn’t know how to deal with others’, either.
         Mista doesn’t like what that implies, but he vows to get Giorno to open up like a budding flower, starting with buying him a pastry from that stand over there.