Chapter Text
A young man whose not the tallest height only adorns him, purple, like the most beautiful, juicy, delicious plums from his grandmother's garden, his hair is blowing in the wind, and black, like pitch, enveloped a thousand dark tunnels in which you can get lost, get lost and not get back out, and soon drown eyes looking somewhere-then they stood in the distance and waited for their victim courageously, but at the same time so simply and at ease, waiting for an interlocutor, a colleague for several days, weeks, or even months. The young man himself was dressed rather provocatively, as if showing his whole character: a purple shirt unbuttoned so that it was possible not to fasten it — there would be no sense anyway, nothing was covered, yellow trousers, not very loose, but you could see in what shape the man's legs were, and also there were branded sneakers, which the owner loved very much, judging by their wear and tear.
The young man saw a breathless teenager running towards him. The pink, sloppily gathered hair of the timid guy fluttered in the wind from running, simultaneously untying them again. He stumbled every now and then, trying not to be late, which delayed him even more. The owner of the yellow shirt looked at the guy, sighed desperately and covered his face with his hands, trying not to be ashamed of the behavior of a man with whom he would work for a long time.
— And-sorry, Aki! The teenager apologized, still looking overexcited.
— Nothing. Calm down, or you'll embarrass yourself," Aki said rather rudely, straightening his purple hair and looking at Jonaro no less sternly.
— Good…
— I bought the tickets. We're leaving in 20 minutes. I advise you not to be so late next time.
— H-good.
— Let's sit at this time, wait until they start letting us on the plane.
Aki sat down on a chair, immediately assuming a rude pose, took a book out of his pocket and began to read, delving into the text as accurately as possible, while Jonaro sloppily sat down and began to wait. Aki turned over page after page, absorbing the text with his eyes, and soon he just closed the book, like his eyes.
— Come on, Aki. It's time to take our seats, otherwise we'll be late," Jonaro muttered, trying to make out the title of the book, but it was vaguely visible. He managed to make out the "flower" and "in April". Then Jonaro had to think about it and, according to his guess, the book is called "a flower blooming only in April." Is it romantic?
"Shouldn't I be telling you this, Joe?" The dark—eyed man grinned, then carefully put the book in his pocket and went to the plane, dragging Jonaro with him.
It was the first time Jonaro had flown, unlike Aki, who already knew what to do and how to behave. Passengers came and went, settling into their seats, calming either their nerves or crying children. Many were delighted with the upcoming flight, and some, on the contrary, were very nervous.
The plane began to take off, delighting more and more people. Many took pictures of the views from the window in order to post them on social networks, where some Tatiana would ask to take her with him and say "at my expense, for your payment." Some, especially the unlucky ones, became ill, due to which they began to vomit and they impatiently asked the flight attendants to help and bring them pills, and in response they received a polite "yes, of course, one minute." Aki was reading his book again, ignoring the commotion around him, realizing that sooner or later it would subside.
— What is this, romance? Jonaro laughed, as if mocking a brutal guy reading romance.
"Romance is something you'll never have, and this is a slasher,— the guy said, adjusting his shirt. — Do you even know what it is?
"Uh... no?" — the question asked by Aki baffled Jonaro: he realized how stupid he was in terms of genres. He rarely had to disgrace himself.
— Slasher is bullsh*t related to murders. More precisely, a genre based on this. Do you understand?
— And you like to read this?
— One of my mother's favorite books. But she is, of course, an interesting woman…
— Interesting in terms of what?
— In terms of education. As far as I know from the stories of her friends and my father's friends, I should have grown up with a manic disorder.
— Did you grow up just a sociopath?
— Oh, you ... — Aki was already swinging at Jonaro in order to slap him on the shoulder, when he heard the snoring of a man sitting right behind them. "I'm going to kill him now, Jonaro.
— You wait, Aki. Maybe he'll stop snoring," Joe said, not believing what he was saying. He will not stop snoring, but will start doing it harder, louder, nastier and more irritable.
— No, Jonaro. He won't stop. It's easier to kill him now, otherwise…
— Aki, we won't even get to Italy, but we'll die on the way. Or we'll go to jail. Because of you.
— C…
The flight lasted more than 10 hours. 10 agonizing hours of noise, snoring, irritation, stiff back. During this time, Jonaro and Aki managed to take a nap, quarrel, prevent a murder (more precisely, Jonaro miraculously managed to stop Aki when the man started snoring again!), and then fly in. And so, the guys had already taken their luggage, sat and thought about further actions.
"I suggest we eat,— Aki offered aristocratically, feebly hoping for an agreement with the offer from his ally.
— And what is that? Do you even have the money with you?
— Damn it. An employee of the Speedwagon foundation has the money, but we still have to go to him.
— As far as I remember, he's at the hotel.
— So at the hotel…
***
The guys were sitting in the hotel restaurant, located on the 11th floor. It was a restaurant with classical music, where the presidential Symphony Orchestra plays. The music sounded from all sides, the orchestra was playing with might and main, the conductor was sweating so much, conveying all the tragedy of the work performed by violinists, double bassists, cellists, violists, oboists, bassoonists and many others.
— And now we will introduce to you, dear visitors of the Michelasso restaurant, located at the Renaissance Naples Hotel Mediterraneo, our soloist, the first violinist of the string chamber orchestra... oh, he prefers not to give his name. Well, now you will hear his author's work: a tragic, but deeply touching, romantic solo for violin and orchestra, the name of which is "Madness".
A young guy of 25 years old came on stage, whose blond hair, like pale wheat, contrasting with green fields, was combed back, sharp cheekbones stood out, giving him charm, making him stand out from the crowd. The not-so-tall body was wearing a branded suit that fit the guy perfectly. He put his violin on his shoulder, checked the tuning beforehand and started playing.
— You don't understand anything about music! Aki exclaimed, banging his fist on the table while tragic music reigned around.
— I don't understand this?! Yes, you look like you only know how to seduce a girl! Jonaro answered him, clearly outraged by his wounded ego.
— Unlike you, girls love me! Did you have it yourself? Let me guess, no? Anyway, something makes me sleepy. I'm not in the mood to swear anymore, so shut up.
Jonaro, too, could barely contain his drooping eyelids and sudden weakness in his body when he saw a strange silhouette of someone's stand, painted in blue and gold. It was the last thing the teenager saw before falling asleep.
***
The pink-haired man woke up clutching his head. His vision was double, and his lungs were constricted from lack of oxygen and a lump rising in his throat. Turning over on his side, he began to inhale air, trying to regain his condition, which he had until he fell and felt as if the cells were gaining strength to work further, and the heaviness in his body began to go away. Before my eyes, everything finally began to take on a clear silhouette, and the nausea receded. The guy got to his feet when he suddenly felt a sharp but severe pain. Looking at the source of the pain, he saw how the leg was cut all over the shin, and the scarlet blood, soaking into the white trousers, spread down the leg and further.
As soon as Jonaro turned his head, he saw that absolutely all the visitors of the restaurant were lying on the floor, on their tables, chairs. All the orchestra members also fell to the floor, breaking their instruments. The teenager quickly approached Aki, who was lying on the floor and began to shake him.
— Aki, get up! Something happened, we were attacked!
— M, Jonaro, get off, I want to sleep, — the guy replied to the teenager, without even opening his eyes.
— .. your leg, Hirose, in all seriousness, we were attacked.
— Damn it! The guy hissed and stood up, looking around. —Yes, you're right, Joe. The soloist is missing, and everyone is asleep. I think I know who attacked us. Let's find him and kick his ass.
They began to search every table, lifting the tablecloth, looking behind the curtains, opening every door. There was no one even like their opponent. The guys left the restaurant and began to search the rooms. Room 117 turned out to be empty, except for the guys finding very strange things: 12 empty walnuts, 16 plates, 5 chocolate bars. It was all in one package. They went to the next room, but there was no one there either, as in the other 6 rooms. They went down to the 10th floor, began to search there and came across the kitchen.
— Let's look there already ... — Joe suggested, losing hope, and saw Aki's nod. As soon as they opened the door to the kitchen, it seemed to echo:
— Sleep music! — and in front of them stood the very image of the stand that Jonaro had noticed then, on stage.
— Shield space! Aki shouted and a purple image of a creature appeared, after whose movements you can see stars and radiance, behind which there are frightening cosmic holes and the power of the stand is immediately felt. The stand crossed its arms, after which a shield appeared that had no clear boundaries. The shield itself was like space: just as empty and frightening. Suddenly, the sound of the violin rang out again and Hirose's shield disappeared, and Aki's body fell to the ground with a thud. Unlike his friend, Jonaro did not fall into the realm of Morpheus, but held on, walking with a rough gait to the owner of the stand that played the violin, mesmerizing with his virtuosity, but as soon as he saw a man who was not affected by his abilities, he immediately ran away. This is the second time.
— Aki, we missed him again. Come on, get up, you leaky stump.
— No, Joe. We didn't miss him. I've let my stars out and I can feel where he is. I'm not able to get up, go by yourself, the stars will show you the way.
Jonaro ran after the stardust, which showed him the way to the 15th floor. As soon as he got up there, a blow followed. The stars gathered in a shield, protecting the teenager, but then immediately disappeared. He saw his target in front of him again.
— What's your secret, Jonaro. Why? Why didn't my sleep music work on you?! Why?! — the musician has already started shouting at the end, furiously looking at the opponent.
— You won't escape this time.
— I hate it! I hate my f*cking life! Your stand! Your abilities and talents for music! I hate Dio for cursing and condemning my family to this! — the violinist shouted, which made his music begin to become very strange: instead of a violin ringing sound, a girl's crying began to be emitted, which filled the whole room. The wind began to swirl, even though the windows and doors were closed, the leaves that appeared out of nowhere immediately rotted, and the lungs squeezed harder than when Jonaro first woke up.
— What the hell is going on here?! Narcisso's eyes were filled with panic and undisguised anger.
— This is my mother's cry when my father was killed by Dio. She also cried when she found out that I had a stand, too — then the walls began to collapse, cracking from the sound of the violin, from which a woman's heart-rending scream began to emanate, as if she was being tortured.
— Jonaro, Dio tortured her too! My mother! That scream was her last word, — the woman was shouting something like a man's name. Eddie? Yes, exactly. — She's shouting my name here! Yes, I'm Eddie Coleman, do you know him?! No!
— Stop it, Eddie. You can still fix it.
— Fix it?! Jonaro Narcisso, do you even know what you're talking about?! Of course not! You don't know what I've been through! You don't know anything!
— Eddie, I can help you. Just stop, but that only made the situation worse. The screams became unbearable, sickeningly painful. Jonaro felt something wet on his cheeks, flowing from his eyes. Soon it began to flow from his nose, and after a metallic taste in his mouth, Jonaro understood. It's blood.
— Do you see what's happening to you, Jonaro? This is my greatest work! This Is Madness.
Their lungs were squeezing harder, and their ribs were already starting to crack, when they saw the stars mingling with the wind and circling around them. Taking advantage of the fact that Eddie was distracted by the stars, Jonaro abruptly unscrewed the violin peg, which caused the string to snap and the music stopped. The wind disappeared, and the air pressure seemed to return to normal. Breathing became much easier.
— Ribbon arm! Jonaro cried out, after which a figure appeared, wrapped in pink and green bandages that were worn out by time, but were still clean and tidy, showing its owner. Eight ribbons behind the mummy's back began to beat the guy who had recently staged a frenzy. "Ora, ora, ora, ora!" was heard from all corners, but the poor man had no living place left. — You made me move. I'm even glad that I'm carrying earplugs, which actually saved my life today.
***
"Hey, Joe, do we even have a picture of the man we're looking for, or are we acting purely knowing that his name is Giorno Giovanna?" Aki whined, wandering back and forth across the room.
— Yes, there is one, let me look for it! — I was going through all Joe's things, looking for that very photo. The room had been in a mess for a long time, so no one cared how they cleaned up after that.
— Then open your eyes more and look! The purple—haired man quipped, looking at himself in the mirror and straightening his hair every now and then.
— Am I supposed to open my eyes?! Don't compare your narrow Asian eyes with mine.
— By the way, Asians also have big eyes!
— But not you!
— Or maybe I do!
— Listen, you just sit down and read the book. You're very annoying.
"You could use a book, too."
— Here you take it and read it out loud.
As soon as Aki picked up the book, something fell out. The dark-eyed man slowly picked up the photo of the man, looked at it in shock and asked:
"Joe, isn't that him?"
"He... where did you get this picture?"
— I don't know. I opened the book and…
— Something is not clean here…
***
— Company up! Jonaro cried out very unexpectedly, hoping to surprise Aki, who was peacefully snoring on the bed in the hotel room, but Joe did not take into account one thing — Aki did not listen in order to abruptly climb such an ascent.
— f*ck off.
— Giorno Giovanna is near the hotel.
— Where?! — but Aki has already jumped on this, like an army man with a "company, rise" from the general.
— I don't know, I was joking. Get up, let's go to the house where Giorno used to live. Hopefully we'll find some clues.
— I hate it when you're right.
A couple of hours have passed, the guys are walking down the street, looking for the right address, and suddenly they see familiar figures who were arguing about something.
— Stupid beer! I spilled it again!
"You're the only dumb one here, Okuyasu.
— Give me the money back, Shaitan machine! Give it back!!!
— How will he give them back to you, idiot? It's a vending machine.
— In silence!
— Well, you're an idiot by nature.
— Me?! Yes, I am the smartest!
The guys were delighted and in all 32 teeth, like small children, ran up to two friends drinking beer.
— Uncle Josuke, Okuyasu, how did you end up here?! Jonaro asked with shining eyes.
— Joe? Aki? What the .. hm.. are you doing here?
"Okuyasu, you're dumb, they just asked us that.
— And... well... we drink beer here.
"No, Okuyasu, you should have answered, 'we're on vacation here.'
— Vacation is vacation, and I drink beer!
— Listen, Josuke, Okuyasu, do you know this man? Aki took out Giorno's photo and showed it to them as well.
— Hmm... a familiar face... and the hairstyle is the same.
Okuyasu muttered, clearly offended that the machine did not return his money.
"I agree with you, Okuyasu. The type is strange.
— Listen, Josuke, Okuyasu. We need to find this person and we need any information," Aki said seriously, looking at them.
— yeah... but I've told you everything we had," Joske replied, still looking at the photo given to him.
— No, you don't understand. We need your help.
— That's what I would have said right away. All right, Aki, Jonaro. We will help you.
— Okay... let's stay in touch? If you have information about him, you will immediately dial.
"Well, you can give a number for Joe's nephew, write it down," Joske replied cheerfully, looking at the guys and dictating the number.
— Well, Carlo, well done. I managed to put a mark on that Jostar! Ha ha! I'm sure we'll find Giorno Giovanna first," someone hissed like a snake from around the corner, who had been watching the guys all this time.
