Getting to Roma was one of their greatest challenges yet, aside from the immortal all consuming flesh demon that was Notorious B.I.G. At the digression of a nameless aid, the gang made their way to Roma, with information about the boss, as well as his name; Diavolo. When they were to arrive, their ally would give them their chance to defeat Diavolo. When the gang arrived at a village outside to the big city, they were jumped by yet another stand duo. One who spread a mold and caused anyone who fell below it to disintegrate into nothingness. The gang barely escaped, with only minor wounds thanks to Giorno's healing. Now, in the car, Giorno sat in the back with Mista, tending to the older teen's wounds. Trish sat in the passenger seat, keeping an eye on Narancia. As for Bucciarati, he kept his eyes on the road ahead of them, cautiously driving, making sure that they didn't take any roads down.

Mista was the first to break the silence. "Ya had me fooled for a sec' back there. I actually thought you'd plunged to your own death."

"You used Sticky Fingers to cling onto the wall, right?" Mista rasped, his body still not fully recovered from the assault. All eyes were on Bucciarati, but he said not a word to anyone.

"It must've been close, ya didn't get an ounce of mold on ya." Mista persisted, sitting up right in the backseat.

"Mista, please take a nap. I healed the wounds, but they may open up again if you get injured." Giorno stated to the blue-capped teen.

"I can keep an eye on any cars that may pass by. Just get some rest." He added, seeing Mista lean his head against the window, muttering a 'yeah' under his breath.

The drive continued for a few minutes in dead silence. Narancia was peacefully passed out in the turtle, with Trish's watchful gaze above the teen. Trish's gaze adverted from Narancia to Bucciarati, who hadn't said a word since they had gotten in the car. Trish looked down at Bucciarati's hand, seeing an alarming amount of blood and a gash along the arm.

"Jesus, Bucciarati. That hand looks pretty bad. Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Trish questioned, earning Giorno's attention.

"I can heal that up in a second, let me take a look." Giorno offered, but Bucciarati said not a word. The two awake teens shared a glance, both eyeing the other with worry.

"Bucciarati, you may get an infection from the mold. Let Giorno heal you. It'll only take a moment." Trish continued, but no reaction from Bucciarati.

"Are you even listening, Bucciarati?" Giorno questioned, as Bucciarati reached over for the stick, revealing that the wound was much worse than either of the teens had anticipated. Bones stuck out from the wound, but none of the blood had flowed out. It just stayed as a glistening red spot.

"Bucciarati, what are you-" Giorno reached forward, cut off by a bump in the road. His hand flew into Bucciarati's neck, as the blonde gasped in horror.

There was no pulse.

Trish's eyes widened in alarm, realizing what had happened. She didn't want to believe it. Trish didn't want anyone else to die for her. She had thought that Bucciarati had lived due to Giorno's actions, but that didn't happen.

"His skin's so cold, and his pulse… it…" Giorno exclaimed, as Bucciarati seemed to finally react. Bucciarati looked to his left, meeting Trish's gaze, then turned around and glanced at Giorno.

"Giorno, Trish. What's wrong? You both seem a little perturbed. Did either of you say something?" Bucciarati questioned, like there was nothing out of the ordinary here.

Giorno and Trish's gazes met each other again.

"So, it wasn't just my imagination." Giorno muttered.

"It's just like what had happened back at San Giorgio." Trish hated the words that tumbled out of her mouth, but there was no denying what had happened.

"I'd just written it off as nothing back in Venezia, but-" Giorno choked back a sob, much to the surprise of Trish.

"I'd seen the same thing back on the plane to Sargenia. A giant gash in his leg with no blood." Trish added, unintentionally adding to Giorno's fear.

"I do suppose I was careless." Bucciarati said, as the two teens looked back at their capo. He was looking down at his wound like it was a watch. He seemed calm, almost at peace with himself.

"But… perhaps I realized this just a second too late. I'm quickly losing all feeling." He paused, almost as if in thought.

"No. I'd lost my sense of touch quite a while ago."

"So you're…" Trish trailed off, not wanting to finish her statement.

"But then that means…" Giorno paused, allowing for his brain to catch up with his thought process.

"So, when you saved me from Diavolo back at San Giorgio, then…" Trish gasped to herself, unable to accept that truth.

"Bucciarati, you can't be saying that you're-" The blonde choked back another sob, like he was on the verge of a breakdown. Unseen by everyone except Trish, Giorno's eyes faintly faded to a gold, before returning to green a moment later.

"It's strange. I'd already come to accept this destiny. I'd thought of it as a little gift, handed down to me from heaven above." Bucciarati stated, as his gaze averted upwards.

"The life force you gave my wounded body could not save me, even though I am certain that you intended it to. Unfortunately, all that it has done is delay the inevitable." He continued, much to the horror of the two teens.

"But, why? Why did you keep this from us?" Giorno questioned, the fear hanging in his voice.

"Gold Experience could heal all of your wounds perfectly back then. I know that it can do it again. There's no reason that it can't fix whatever's wrong with you." He pleaded, but Bucciarati remained firm.

"Giorno, I know this is hard. But even your Gold Experience understands this truth. Much better than anyone else I'd expect. Nothing can free a person from deaths stubborn grasp. By the time you'd reached me, it was too late. Death has me now." Bucciarati consoled Giorno.

Trish was in awe. How could someone be so laissez faire about their own life? Giorno seemed to be wondering the same thing, staring forward at Bucciarati in shock.

"I trust you both will keep this matter betw-" Bucciarati's voice faded as Trish entered the turtle. She couldn't deal with it.

Trish plopped herself on the couch, trying to calm herself down. How could Bucciarati do this to her? To both her and Giorno? He never said a word, never pulled either of them to the side to talk to them. Trish wanted nothing more than to scream at Bucciarati for his actions. But she did nothing. She felt powerless. Trish hugged her knees close and sobbed into her legs. A slow hum faded in as she heard the familiar tune pop into her head, as she felt a pair of arms hold her close.

Please don't cry, my dear

Just let me hold you near

All your anger and sorrow, let it flow

Let it all drain way down low

You needn't feel any sorrow

For you shall be alright tomorrow

So, don't you ever worry anymore

Your ship will always find it's shore

No matter the family you find

Just remember, I am yours and you are mine.

Trish glanced up, looking her stand in her vibrant green pupils. It momentarily distracted her, which it seems was Spice Girl's plan all along.

"Just let me mope, Spice." Trish murmured, curling herself tighter.

Spice Girl released her grip on Trish and sighed. "At least it got you out of moping for a moment, didn't it?" She questioned in an authoritative tone.

Trish looked back at Spice Girl for a moment. "I… suppose so." She said at last, letting her legs drop back to the floor, sitting on the couch like a normal person.

Spice Girl hovered for a moment, glancing over to Narancia. "It's surprising with all of the commotion outside that he hasn't even woken up." She said aloud, hinting something to her user.

Trish cocked an eyebrow, glancing up to look outside. She was shocked to see Mista's bloodied face.

"W-What the hell happened out there?" Trish questioned in horror.

"The mold guy followed us in a fucking chopper is what happened. And now it's just Giorno and Number Five trying to take this guy down." Spice Girl explained, keeping a watchful gaze on the outside.

Trish then noticed an arm around Mista's throat, and nearly gasped. Quickly thinking, she rushed out of the turtle, ready to soften the grip of the arm. As she exited, no one seemed to notice her. Trish looked to her left, seeing Giorno and the mold guy yet again, an alarming amount of blood pouring out like a fountain out of his skull.

"Giorno, let me-" Trish tried to speak up, but was drowned out by Giorno.

"-wanted to be certain that you were completely neutralized first. Meaning I had to finish you off, whether or not I could still hear a heartbeat." Giorno stated, his face contorted in anger. Trish and Spice Girl just watched the events unfold before them.

"B-But you said… th-that if I stayed still… y-you wouldn't do anything…" The mold guy whimpered, clutching his head in agony.

"Oh, please." Giorno scoffed.

"Did you really think you'd be that lucky?" He paused, his glare hardening.

"A piece of shit like you!?" Giorno roared, clenching his fists hard.

The mold guy gasped. "You sick bastard!" He roared, lunging straight for Giorno. All at once, Giorno summoned Gold Experience, launching him right at the mold guy. With the glint in Giorno's eye, it told Trish one thing; this guy was as good as dead.

MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!

Gold Experience roared, giving Giorno's frustration voice, as he punched the mold guy's body upward, knocking out a wallet towards Trish and Spice Girl.

"Oh, what's this?" Trish questioned, opening up the wallet

MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!

Gold Experience's fists drilled into the mold guy's body, his body lifelessly flopping around.

"So, that guy's name is Cioccolata. Interesting." Trish murmured, looking back up at the beatdown before her.

MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!

Cioccolata looked like he was having a blast, his body practically limp and lifeless, yet Gold Experience kept on going.

"You have any idea when he's gonna stop?" Spice Girl asked.

MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!

Giorno clutched his left arm close, but still his stand moved on, fueled by pure rage.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? GioGio looks ready to throw down at the Denny's 3AM mosh pit." Trish murmured, earning a snicker out of her stand.

"You've been to one?" Spice Girl questioned, with Trish giving a half-hearted shrug.

"I've heard the stories, Spice. Americans are just built different." Trish replied, looking back at Giorno.

WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Both Trish and Spice Girl were taken aback by the new cry.

"That's…" Spice Girl trailed off; her eyes wide.

"…A new one." Trish finished, standing in awe.

MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!

Now, Cioccolata's body was being punched into the ground, yet he still maintained being in the air.

"How does he do it?" Spice Girl questioned, like a commentator at a sporting event.

"Is now really the time for that Spice?" Trish questioned, as her stand giggled with a mischievous grin.

MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA MUDA!

Cioccolata's cries for help fell upon deaf ears, as a new figure approached Trish and Spice Girl.

"Geez. Giorno's gonna kill that guy at this rate." Number Five murmured, flying in close next to Spice Girl, landing on her outstretched left palm.

"Isn't that the point?" Spice Girl questioned, looking down at the minute stand.

"I guess so." Number Five muttered.

MUDA!

And with the final blow, Giorno's stand sent Cioccolata flying off the roof, landing in a garbage truck far below. Giorno recalled his stand and looked over the edge, sighing with relief.

"And with a landing like that, Giorno scores a perfect ten!" Spice Girl called in her announcer voice, pumping her right fist into the air.

Giorno glanced back to see Trish and Spice Girl, much to his surpise.

"Uh, how long have you two been there?" He asked, still gasping for air after screeching for a solid period of time.

"When you were talking about finishing Cioccolata off." Trish stated.

"So, for about a minute?" Giorno questioned, Trish confirming with a single nod.

"Did either of you think about jumping in and helping?" Giorno asked, not in any sort of anger, but more of an exhausted tone.

"C'mon Giorno, you looked like you were having fun sending that guy into the forever box." Spice Girl jested to the blonde teen.

Both Trish and Giorno looked at her with confusion in their eyes. "The what now?" Both of them questioned.

Spice Girl rolled her eyes. "Y'know. A coffin." She clarified, as both teens muttered an 'ah' under their breaths.

Spice Girl felt the weight in her palm float away, as she glanced down to the blue-capped teen regaining consciousness. She figured Number Five went to check on his user. Spice Girl thought the sentiment was sweet.

"Well, we should probably get a move on. Up an at 'em, Mista." Spice Girl encouraged, as both Giorno and Trish nodded to her. Slowly, but surely, Mista awoke from his dulcet slumber atop the roof. Spice Girl gave one last look at the two teens, before returning to her user.

Giorno, taking his time to heal up his wounds, before treating Mista, left Trish to her own devices. She looked towards the colosseum, with hopes that the gang would obtain the item they were after from their confidant.


A/N: Yep. The 7 Page Muda is here. And I spent a half hour counting out each individual muda uttered during the anime. Also, also. I might go to a bi-weekly schedule for uploads after this week. If I do upload weekly, then I do. Like I said in last chapter, I've been dragging my heels writing this, so I hope you understand if the upload schedule changes. Best wishes, and take care.