Before this chapter begins, I'd like to take a moment to talk about Polnareffland. It's all been our dreams, right? Especially mine. Well, while the amusement park is being paid for and built, I put together something to keep us together in the meantime!

https://discord.gg/Y67WTykc

Join this boosted server to have so much fun with me and our fellow authors! We have roleplaying, we have doggos, we have art, we have feedback, we have self-promotion, your fellow authors/readers, and most importantly, we have you! I can't wait to see you in Polnareffland!

(Wow...advertising isn't easy. Anyways, onto the story!)

P.s. Don't. Just please don't use Google translate. It doesn't work 😥)

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Bucciarati meticulously shifted the colored cubes from side to side, up and down, left and right, trying to match each side. Droplets of sweat dripped from his pale face, blue eyes locked on the cube. The tension was pinned at a high level as the plastic shifts of Narancia's cube could be heard. The crowd wad watching. Dignity was on the line.

It was a rubix battle to the death.

Red to red, white to white, blue to blue, Bucciarati double checked his cube to make sure all sides were matching. A smirk lit his face, dropping the cube to the table with a thud. Narancia finished not a second later only to realize his defeat. Burdened forever in his heart was melancholy. The loss of respect. Defeat.

"Next time, think before you challenge the master." Bucciarati got to his feet, Abbacchio swelling with haughty pride as he watched Narancia gaze mournfully at the ground. Fugo and Mista distanced themselves from the orange loser. 

Thud!

Abbacchio turned his head to the roof. It came from above...Giorno wasn't in the room, and nor were you...His teeth bit into his purple lip as he scavenged through his miscellaneous pockets to find something. Something to beat or kill someone with...his hand grasped around a baton. Abbacchio psychopath mode deluxe activated.

"Hey, I'm sure it's nothing." Bucciarati drained a disapproving look into Abbacchio's purple to gold eyes. 

"Yeah...sure. Nothing fiddling with our daughter...." Abbacchio brushed Bruno's hand from his shoulder and turned around towards the stairs. Bucciarati sighed, and returned to the others. Diavolo left the wall he was leaning against and followed close behind. 

"Do you know what your defeat means, Narancia?" He laid a hand on ze orange baby's shoulder. 

Ghirga looked up with fear. "W-what?" The others backed away from the shadow looming entrance behind them. An insane look was plastered on the figure sauntering out of the exit. A plastic box was being loosely held in her arms full of differently hewed vials, and makeup items galore. Trish snickered to herself as the others handcuffed screaming and begging Narancia to the table legs. Doppio followed behind her, an abundance of different dresses draped over his arm. 

"PLEASE, NO! I-I CAN'T DO THIS! AHHHHH" He fiercely struggled with tears streaming down his face.

"Prepare to meet your demise, Ghirga." She madly mumbled, pulling out a rose vial.

Abbacchio passed a silver knife into Diavolo's hand. The two nodded at each other and quietly slid out of the window and onto the roof. They snuck up the curve of the tiles, peeking their heads over the top.

"It's a shooting star...what are you going to wish for?" Giorno softly spoke to you, who was cuddling beside him. 

"If I tell you, it won't come true." 

"(Y/n), I'm the don of the Italian mafia. I'm sure I could make it happen." He chuckled to himself. You kissed his cheek. His finger traced its way down your face and onto your chin.

Abbacchio sneered and turned his head to Diavolo, who was wishing on the star. "What are you doing?!" He hissed.

"Wishing on the star, what does it look like?" He harshly whispered in return. Leone facepalmed. The two stealthily hopped over the roof and snuck their way down towards the two. Abbacchio swung his baton hard down onto Giorno's chest.

"Merda!" He hacked up blood, the two of you quickly regaining your footing. 

"Perché dovresti farlo, prepotente coglione egoista?!" Giorno furiously clasped his hands Italian style. "Potrei facilmente toglierti la vita! Sai perché non lo so!? Perché sei bravo in quello che fai e hai una figlia straordinaria che amo molto! Quindi smettila di essere un bastardo testardo e smettila di picchiare le persone con manganelli!"

"Allora smettila di colpire mia figlia! Il mio lavoro è proteggerla e non posso lasciarla entrare nelle mani di qualcuno come te!" Abbacchio Italianed. 

"Mi scusi? QUALCUNO COME ME-," Giorno reitalianed. You sighed while hearing their beautiful babbling. 

"I could say anything I want right now." You spoke loudly. They kept talking.

"I'm gonna get a tattoo." You put a curled finger to your chin. "Maybe I'll go have sex with Diavolo." You eyed the watermelon man. He gazed at you, died inside, and jumped off the roof, quickly running back inside to join in on torturing Narancia. That sparked an idea.

You cautiously crawled higher onto the roof until you were at the highest peak. What a view...You cleared your throat, grabbing their attention. They loosened their pasta hands. You gave a sly grin, saluted them, and let yourself fall from the roof.

"(Y/n)!" Giovanna shouted, diving off the lower point of the roof. Abbacchio followed, silently swearing profanities to himself. Giorno tore a ladybug pin from his chest, throwing it to the ground to create a gigantic bushel of soft flowers. It wasn't enough. Abbacchio threw his weird purple hat pancake over to Giorno to create another layer of softness. 

Thump!

Like landing on a pillow. You nonchalantly stood up and brushed off your knees.

"Why would you do that? You could have killed yourself!" Abbacchio lightly shook you with both hands.

You smiled, "Nah. I woulda been fine. Plus, do you get what just happened?" 

"What."

"You worked together!" You felt giddy on the inside.

"On account of your life, (Y/n)." Giorno cocked his head.

"Well, either way." You turned to Abbacchio. "Dad, I love him, okay? Please don't tear out his organs and eat them." You sweetly pecked his cheek. Abbacchio withered with rage on the inside, but let himself relax a moment. You chuckled and strode away to join the others. Giorno smiled with emerald eyes, and went to join you.

As he passed Abbacchio, he laid a hand on Leone's shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Don't worry, Leone. I'll give your daughter a golden experience."