Chapter Text
It was the day after Risotto’s message, and most of the assassin team hadn’t slept a second all night. Formaggio had started up the car the second the text came through, knowing the length of the journey ahead. The others remained at home with little idea what to do with themselves. They didn’t even notice that Prosciutto had gone out until he came back through the door an hour later.
“What the hell are those?” Illuso asked, gesturing at the several large cardboard boxes Prosciutto had returned with.
“Sheets. The ones on the bed right now aren’t fit to sit down on, let alone sleep with,” he responded, cautiously running a pair of scissors down the middle of the first box.
“Bed?” Ghiaccio challenged him, not quite up to speed with his thinking.
“For the spare room, idiot. We can’t make the girl sleep on the sofa. Now, in terms of moving the clutter up there, how far have you gotten?” Prosciutto demanded. There was an uneasy silence.
“We hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Melone confessed.
“You’re hopeless, all of you,” Prosciutto chastised them.
“Don’t tell us off for not thinking ahead if you’re planning to put (y/n) in the spare room,” Sorbet dismissed him.
“Yeah, she’s blind,” Gelato supported him.
“So?”
“The spare room is on the top floor. She’ll have fun getting down from there.”
Prosciutto sighed.
“Well, if you have any better ideas, fee free to tell me,” he told him.
“We can move some things up there to make it easier for her,” Pesci suggested.
“I have a minifridge I never use,” added Illuso.
There were murmurings of agreement as the others gave their own suggestions.
“Come on Pesci, I’d like the place to have at least a foot of free floorspace before she arrives,” Prosciutto ordered.
“A bit late for that,” Sorbet warned them. “I’d take a look out of the window.”
The group crowded around the small front window as the car pulled up on the sidewalk. Melone unlocked the door and Formaggio was the first to enter, giving a small thumbs up to his teammates to let them know everything was okay. Outside, Risotto was helping (y/n) out of the car. She was clearly a little uneasy on her feet, but how much of that was down being unable to see her surroundings, and how much of it was down to the situation was anyone’s guess.
Risotto opted to just pick her up once she was out of the car, his face unreadable as he carried her up the steps and through the door. He whispered into her ear that they were inside now, before setting her down gently on one of the sofas. Her hand grasped at the level and she seemed to have a moment of realisation.
“This is your home?” (y/n) asked quietly.
“Yes. May I leave you here for a minute?”
“Okay,” she agreed. Risotto left the room sharply. His footsteps could soon be heard heading up the stairs.
The others, completely silent up until this point, looked around at each other indecisively. Prosciutto approached (y/n), placing a gentle hand on her knee.
“Relax, it’s only us,” he calmed her. She brought her hands to her torso nervously. “I imagine you probably don’t remember us all that much, shall we catch up?”
::::::
After a few hours of uneasy but pleasant conversation between (y/n) and most of the team, Ghiaccio and Melone, who had gone to sort out the situation with the room, came down to say that it was ready. (Y/n) was led upstairs, Prosciutto advising that she left a while, but as they left, she could sense that she wasn’t entirely alone.
“Hey, this isn’t a bad time is it?” Ghiaccio asked.
“If you want to sleep right now, we don’t mind,” added Melone.
These two had been keen to excuse themselves shortly after (y/n) arrived. She was afraid her last meetings with these two in particular may have left some hard feelings, but she thought it would be better to know straight away if that was the case.
“It’s okay, I slept in the car,” she affirmed. There was a moment’s pause as though neither actually expected her to want to speak with them.
“I’m curious,” Melone began. “What exactly happened the night we met?”
“Before he went out he told us he had you figured out. How did you manage to pull your stand on him?” Ghiaccio clarified on Melone’s behalf.
“You were very kind to me, you let me take my anxiety medication. I tricked you and had you bring me something dangerous instead and the act of helping me take it was enough to activate my stand. I’m sorry.”
Melone chuckled.
“Clever. Here I was thinking we got into a fight.”
“No! I’d never!” (y/n) promised.
“What he’s saying is that even you could beat him up if you wanted to,” Ghiaccio explained.
“Well I wouldn’t!” insisted (y/n). Melone sighed melodramatically.
“I’m so persecuted here!” he joked. “But really miele, if you had fought me off, I would have had it coming.”
“He means it turns him on,” Ghiaccio scoffed. (Y/n) felt blood collecting in her cheeks. Melone laughed again.
“I mean it would have been totally fair. I’m sure I told you then, but none of us wanted to hurt you. So no hard feelings, okay?” he took her hand. She squeezed it a little in agreement.
“No hard feelings.”
Melone ruffled her hair. She heard him click his tongue as he left, but Ghiaccio stayed put. He shifted his weight a little, the movement obvious thanks to the creaking of the old floorboards.
“If you want me to leave, just say so,” Ghiaccio exhaled.
“No, I don’t mind you being here,” she assured him. He shifted his weight some more. He audibly breathed out.
“Are you angry at me?” He asked. “Me in particular.”
“Ghiaccio, no. Why would I be?” she comforted him.
“Because you let me remember everything.”
“I don’t see why that means I would be angry with you.”
Ghiaccio tripped over his words.
“I thought you might have done that to humiliate me.”
(Y/n) felt a pang in her heart.
“Ghiaccio, do you feel humiliated by what happened?”
“I guess. I was freaking out, and I genuinely believed you were someone important to me, and I trusted you a lot because of that. When I got my memories back, I thought you must have been using me, but I know you were only doing what you needed to survive. I guess… I don’t know, I just still feel bad about the whole thing,” Ghiaccio confessed.
“I’m sorry,” (y/n) told him. Ghiaccio exhaled once more. Relief? Anger? “I didn’t mean to humiliate you. I let you keep your memories because I though it would be wrong to leave you ignorant of what had happened. I didn’t want you to be alone and confused.”
“You think weird, do you know that?” Ghiaccio moved close enough that she could feel his warmth. “But thanks. If you’d left me in that train station with no memory of how I got there I totally would have freaked.”
He petted her hair in an awkward imitation of Melone and exited the room. Calm washed over her. She would do fine here.
::::::
Three days passed without incident. (Y/n) got to know the men of La Squadra and as she became used to their presence, they became used to hers. They pitied her being stuck on the top floor (even though the situation would have made it impossible for her to leave the house even if she was physically able to) so came up to talk to her whenever they could.
She learned that Risotto had declared her dead, fulfilling the orders of the mysterious boss that La Squadra, and the rest of Passione worked for. She was grateful to them for taking the risk of faking her death, but the thought of never returning to her old life saddened her. She learned that it was possible La Squadra might usurp the boss in the future, and then she would be allowed to return.
Everyone did what they could to distract her and make her less lonely. On this day, for instance, Sorbet and Gelato had invited her to watch a movie with them, letting her lie between them. She didn’t much care for the film, though listening to Gelato’s running commentary was quite funny, so by the half-way mark she was just about falling asleep when Prosciutto burst in.
“You. With me, now,” he ordered, lifting (y/n) harshly into his arms and wasting no time in marching away with her.
“Oh come on!” Gelato protested. “Let her have a little fun!”
“She can have all the fun she wants once it won’t cost us all our lives. Buccerati’s here.” Prosciutto informed them. “I want you two to go through her room and hide her clothes. Make it look unused.” He slammed the door.
“Prosciutto-“ (y/n) began.
“Not so loud,” he snapped into her ear.
“Sorry- Prosciutto, who is Buccerati?” she asked in a low whisper.
“He’s from a different squad. He hasn’t said it outright but it’s very obvious he was sent to look for you. The boss is doubting that we killed you,” Prosciutto explained. He stopped indecisively in the hallway, as Formaggio came bounding up the stairs.
“Pros! Those kids are searching the place!” he warned them.
“Shit,” Prosciutto exclaimed, before darting into the nearest room. “Pesci!” he barked. Pesci made a confused noise. “She’s going under your bed. Don’t let anyone find her,” Prosciutto ordered, putting (y/n) down and hurriedly pushing her underneath the bed. She took the hint to crawl further under, huddling in the corner and going still.
“But wait! Aniki, what if-”
The door slammed shut. Pesci paced around the room, before leaning down to talk more clearly to (y/n).
“Um, don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” Pesci assured her, though she could tell he was saying it more to himself. The whole house seemed to echo from footsteps. Doors were opened and shut. Voices bickered, some familiar, some not. Pesci adjusted the bedsheets to cover the gap between the bed and the floor, and sat down nervously.
Another door was opened, and this time it was Pesci’s. He shot up to meet the intruder.
“Hey! You can’t just barge in here!” he shouted, marching over to the doorway. The intruder simply walked around him.
“Excuse me,” he said. He had a young, smooth voice that betrayed no hint of emotion. A wardrobe was opened.
“Listen pal, I know you’re with Buccerati and all but if you don’t leave right now you’re just as good as any other intruder,” Pesci threatened. Another cabinet was opened.
“My name is Giorno, and I will do as Buccerati commands of me.”
There was a sound of covers being thrown off. When the mattress was lifted up, (y/n) knew she had been found.
“Wait!” she cried. She dragged herself quickly out from under the bed and got to her feet as fast as she could, doing her best to look sure of herself.
“You want me to go with you? Take me to the boss? I’ll fight you first.”
“Unlikely,” Giorno dismissed her. “We were able to form a rough understanding of your stand from this squad’s reports back when they were being honest about the causes of their failure, so I know what you’re attempting to do. I will not fight you.”
“Good, because her stand doesn’t kill, mine does!” Pesci threatened once more, the sound of commotion informing (y/n) that his stand had been summoned.
“Also unwise. If you defeat me my squad will soon catch on, and if you defeat them, the boss will soon catch on. All of Passione will know what has happened,” Giorno stated calmly.
“I don’t care! If it lets her escape I’ll kill you right here!” Pesci promised.
“Abbacchio!” Giorno called. (Y/n) felt the knot in her chest pull painfully tight. A man called back to Giorno. “She isn’t here,” Giorno lied.
“Move onto the next room,” the man replied. Giorno complied and left the room without so much as a word. The knot in (y/n)’s chest unwound and she near-collapsed onto the bed. Pesci collapsed next to her. It was hard to tell who was shaking more.
::::::
It seemed the heat had been turned off after Buccelati’s visit; nobody else came to trouble La Squadra about what happened to (y/n). Eventually, Risotto surrendered to letting (y/n) make a quick visit to her old house in order to get her belongings, with the promise they’d figure out how to get hold of her dog at some point in the near future. However, Risotto was very insistent that (y/n) travel only through the mirror dimension, just in case someone were to see her.
Illuso made a big thing about taking her into the mirror dimension, spending the best part of 10 minutes telling her not to panic about it. (Y/n) really wasn’t panicked. Learning about the variety of stand powers that existed intrigued her, but she trusted Illuso.
In the end, travelling into the dimension felt like nothing more than a slight disorientation. Everything within sounded exactly the same as in the normal world, so as far as (y/n) was concerned, nothing was different. Her reaction seemed to relax Illuso a little bit, but he insisted on holding her hand for the whole journey, afraid she might get lost inside the mirror.
They left the mirror dimension through the bathroom at (y/n)’s house, and she immediately relished the familiarity of the layout. Illuso was amazed to see how easily she felt her way around the walls, getting herself into the bedroom in seconds. From there, she followed the railing around the room towards the closet, and immediately started taking out clothes. They still smelled fresh from the last time she washed them. She’d had just one pair of jeans for the last two weeks.
Illuso helped her put everything in the bag. He asked if there was anything else they wanted to bring, but (y/n) was sure that was it.
As they were leaving the bedroom the front door was opened.
“(Y/n)?” A voice called. She would have recognised it anywhere.
“(F/n)?”
Not a moment later, (f/n) had dashed forward and enveloped her into a deep hug. Something else pawed excitedly at her legs- her little dog who she had been missing all this time.
“Illuso, could we have a moment please?” (y/n) requested. Illuso excused himself at once. “(F/n) I’m so sorry. I had to leave in a rush and it wasn’t safe for me to try and call you,” she explained.
“Have they hurt you? Who made you go with them? Do you want me to fight that guy?” (f/n) fumed, already rolling up their sleeves.
“No, no! Illuso wouldn’t hurt me, none of them would! They aren’t the ones I’m hiding from, they’re trying to protect me!” (y/n) calmed them.
“It was that fucker Melone, wasn’t it? Did he kidnap you?”
“No actually. After he came around I was on the run by myself for a week before they caught up with me. You have to trust that I trust them.”
(F/n) went silent for a moment.
“Okay, I trust you,” they conceded. “I take it you’ll be taking your dog with you?”
“Of course. Thank you so much for looking after him.”
“Anytime. When will you be able to come back?” (f/n) asked mournfully.
“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” (y/n) replied. She placed a hand on their shoulder. “But please, for your own safety, tell nobody you saw me.”
(F/n) hugged them once more.
“I promise. But if you ever need me, I’ll be here for you.”
“I’ll come and see you as soon as I can.”
They parted once more, and (y/n) called Illuso back in. After (f/n) had left, they returned to the mirror dimension, in silence for the whole journey back.
::::::
After the incident at (y/n)’s house, the weight of her homesickness really started to set in. She had a difficult few weeks, but as she settled into her new home, things became easier, little by little. The whole team helped a lot with that.
With the boss newly assured of their loyalty, they returned to their old schedule of work, but did their best to keep (y/n) out of it. Apparently, involving the entire team in a single mission was very much an exception to the rule, so there was always someone free to spend time with her without the looming stress of an upcoming hit. But then, several months since the move, something rare happened and the entire squad found themselves with a few days without work. They wondered what could be so important to have the boss suspend all planned assassinations, but they weren’t complaining. (Y/n) had brought new life to the house, and they had no issue being there with her around.
The easy-going week came to an abrupt end with a phone call.
“That was Buccelati,” Risotto said gravely after it happened. “He knows about (y/n).”
“What? How!?” Prosciutto demanded.
“Apparently he’s known since his last visit. I didn’t confirm anything. I don’t trust his story,” Risotto explained.
“I trust him,” (y/n) spoke up. “One of his guys, Giorno I believe, found me in Pesci’s room. He lied about me being there.”
“So? Giorno must have croaked,” suggested Melone.
“What did Buccelati even want?” Sorbet asked.
“He claims to be rebelling,” Risotto announced, much to everyone’s shock. “It’s said the boss has a daughter who’s gotten involved in Buccelati’s squad. They claim to be rebelling for her protection, and they want us to help them.”
“Well isn’t that a load of bullshit,” Ghiaccio remarked.
“Oh, definitely. It’s far too convenient,” Formaggio agreed.
“What if I told you it’s probably true?” All attention was turned to Gelato, but Sorbet was the first to elaborate.
“We’ve been doing some digging. We couldn’t confirm anything, but we did find mention of the boss having a daughter. Trish, wasn’t it?”
Risotto’s silence betrayed the truth of Sorbet’s statement.
“You did what?” he finally asked. (Y/n) felt her heart quicken a little. This was the first time she’d ever heard Risotto sound truly angry with one of his own.
“Does it matter now? The fact is that Buccelati’s story holds up. Everyone in this room knows we’ve been planning our own insurrection for the best part of a year now, and I wish we’d all stop pussy-footing around the issue,” Sorbet defended himself. (Y/n) was getting ready to deescalate the situation when Risotto breathed a frustrated sigh.
“Perhaps so. I’ll call Buccelati back. But don’t think I’ll forget about this, you two.”
(Y/n)’s heart was hammering now. This was it, the push for control everyone had been whispering about since she’d arrived. But it would come at the cost of putting their trust in strangers.
::::::
And the price would be worth it tenfold.
One year had passed since the boss’ death. It was decided not to involve (y/n) in the fight itself, but her ability proved vital in wiping the minds of countless lower-ranking gang members, removing their loyalties to Passione without the need for bloodshed. That came after the battle, during the young Giorno’s ambitious plan to rework Passione and reduce it’s impact on the youth of Italy. Risotto had been sceptical of this at first, but (y/n) reminded him it would be necessary to truly prevent more innocents being harmed like he promised her when they first met. Even with Passione’s worth significantly reduced, La Squadra still found themselves with more wealth than they ever could have dreamed of.
They said goodbye to that little townhouse in Naples, each finding their own place but staying in close contact.
And as for (y/n), she did get back in touch with her old friends, but she did not return to her old life. She missed living with the entire team, but she was happy enough with just the one of them. There had been a lot of surprise when she and her favourite announced they were getting together, but a lot of happiness too. The happiness never seemed to end, these days.