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joestvr · 5 months

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༺✮ atashi no kimyona jinsei // あたしの奇妙な人生 ✮༻

༺✮ summary: five years after the fall of diavolo, you, y/n romano, who was sent away to japan at 11 to further your studies—find the courage to come back to naples after living out your schoolgirl & gaijin university student facade in morio-chou to see how your clan’s worsened—as well as become the “donna” of your father’s gang, il terrore, while your older brother is the real leader behind the scenes, just using you as a front. with plans to murder your clan, you seek the particularly handsome young don of passione for friendship. with your tyrant father’s intervention, your friendship with the don turns to something you never saw coming.

★ 1 // il terrore // ★ 2 // bella //★ 3 // viva romano

"Welcome home, Y/n." Your father said. You could see the cigar burning and sitting on the ashtray beside him.

"I'm not happy to be here. What do you need?" You responded.

"God, you're still the same condescending bitch you were 5 years ago." He stood up to face you.

"I said, what do you need?"

"You need to become the leader of Il Terrore. I've already announced it to everyone. "

Your heart dropped and you slowly backed away.

"N-No... What about Alexander?"

He grabbed your arm and yanked you towards him.

"Your brother is nothing but an arrogant fool! He is unfit to run our organization!"

"You're joking, right?! He's your firstborn son!"

"You ungrateful bitch!" He yanked you toward him and slapped you across the face, then pushed you to the ground, scowling.

"You're just like your fucking mother. Leave my sight." He waved you off and you got on your feet, dizzy.

You got out a pack of cigarettes and lit one with a sigh, blowing smoke out of your mouth.

"Y/n."

You turned around and your face lit up. "Vince?"

Vincenzo Sayyid. 23 years old. Your childhood best friend and one of the most prominent caporegime of Il Terrore. He is the first person in your father's personal guard and was brought up in Naples.

His mother, Francesca Marino-Sayyid, was your mother's good friend and a Sicilian. His father, Azam Sayyid, is from Kandahar, Afghanistan who stays in Kabul and manages the branches of gangs there.

He has tan skin, green eyes, thick brown hair that's usually slicked back with a strand sticking out, and stands at 193cm (6'4).

"Oh, Y/n, is that you?" He smiled, hugging you tightly, and kissing your cheek.

"It's me." You said into his neck.

"Have you seen Trish yet, tesora?" He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and going behind you.

"No, I might see her soon, though."

"Why not now?"

"I'm to arrange a meeting with the Don of Passione, I'll see her then, because she's apart of his personal circle.”

"Shall I get the guys together, Donna?" He took the cigarette from your mouth and put it in his.

"I heard a rumaru— ru— rumor—" You struggled to pronounce the word correctly.

"You have a Japanese accent now. Ha!" He teased.

"As I was saying, I heard a rumor he stabbed himself with the reku- Requiem arrow. And his personal guard has some insane sutando— Stand Users."

"Hahaha! Your pronunciation is so funny now!" He laughed.

You sighed and lit another cigarette, taking out your flip phone, dialing Trish's number.

★★★★★★★★★

Trish was sitting at a table in a restaurant with the gang. She was eating her spaghetti talking with Bucciarati when her phone began to ring.

"Sorry, Bucciarati, hold on." She said, taking the phone out and answering.

"Hello?"

"Trish, it's me." She slightly gasped upon hearing you, hunching down and lowering her voice.

"Wh-What's up?" She replied.

"Where are you? What are you up to?"

She covered her mouth and continued to speak into the phone so Fugo couldn't use his powerful mind to lip read.

"I'm at a restaurant with the guys."

"What guys?"

"You know."

"Oh, you're with the gang? Without me? Rudeee."

"Very funny," she started to get concerned at Narancia poking at her arm with curiosity, "Honey, I need to get going."

"Alright. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, babe. Love you."

"Love you too, Trish."

She kissed into the phone and hung up, smiling to herself, chuckling.

The men's eyes widened upon the words that came out of her mouth and the gestures made.

"So, Trish..." Giorno started, smirking. "Care to share the contents of your phone call that caused you to be so secretive?"

"Yes, Trish, I'm quite eager to know." Bucciarati continued.

"Yeah, Trish. Tell us about your secret boyfriend." Mista laughed. Narancia seemed oddly jealous.

"Have you all lost your minds?" She said.

"Trish, there's no need to keep information from us. We are your family." Bucciarati smiled.

"I promise you guys it's not what you think." She began to eat again.

"So what is it then? You're a lesbian?" Narancia blurted out.

She nearly spit out her wine with surprise. "Wh—What?"

"It's okay if you are a homosexual, Trish." said Fugo reassuringly.

"I am not a lesbian, nor do I have a boyfriend, everyone, please." She cleared her throat.

"Well, who are you calling 'Babe' and 'Honey' and telling 'Love you' to?" Bucciarati crossed his arms in an oddly fatherly way.

"Giorno, can you please tell him to stop?" She looked at the blonde haired boy, furrowing her eyebrows.

"No, I'd like to hear as well. Who is so important to you that you have to kiss into the phone when telling them goodbye?"

"Let's change the subject. Do you know the gang Il Terrore?"

"Yes, I heard the new leader is a clueless prick. We don't even know if he is a stand user. How absurd.." Fugo answered.

"He probably is. I heard the Romano family has quite the collection of Stand and Requiem Arrows. The guy probably has an insane team of guards." Mista responded.

"Is he a threat to us?"

"No." Trish interrupted.

"Alright then."

★★★★★★★★★

"I do wish you'd stop smoking." Alima sighed.

Alima Sayyid-Romano. Your sister in law — Also Vince’s cousin. 30 years old. Born in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Her father is Vince’s father’s older brother. She came to Italy 18 years ago with her parents to make a deal with your father and set up a marriage with your brother.

You scoffed and lit another cigarette. "Who do you think I got it from?"

"I remember how your dad and Alexander used to chain smoke all day." She chuckled.

Alexander Romano. Your older brother. 34 years old. He married Alima when he was 18, and had their son, Leo, at 20, and their daughter, Elena, at 25. Though their marriage was arranged, they've had a deep romance ever since they met.

Your relationship with your brother has always been complicated, and it was estranged for many years due to your father driving you apart and also, well, the 14 year age gap.

Now, you'd like to think you're on good terms with each other but he doesn't always approve of the way you live.

"Where is he, anyway?" You turned on your hair straightener, waiting for it to heat up.

"Who, Alexander? He's with the kids at the plaza." She answered, unpacking your clothes, folding and putting them in drawers.

"They're always at the plaza. There's so many thugs and tweakers there, God knows all the drugs they're on." You started to straighten your hair, scowling.

"Take that cigarette out of your mouth, Y/n. It's a fire hazard."

You sighed and put your cigarette out in an ashtray.

"Here, I bought this for you in India." You took a gold ring off your finger and put it on her.

"Thank you. 22 karats?" She grinned and examined the intricacy of the design.

"Yup. 24 is too soft."

She hugged you and kissed your cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too, Sis." You returned the kiss onto her cheek.

You heard the front door open and a familiar voice yell, "We're home!"

You gasped and ran downstairs, jumping into your brother's arms with delight. "Mio bel fratello!"

"Mia bella sorellina!" He embraced you in a hug, kissing your cheeks and laughing, spinning you around.

"Oh, how I missed you, Alexander!" You smiled. He put you down.

"I missed you more than anything, Y/n."

You looked at Leo and gasped, smiling wide, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek. "Kyaaaaah, my Leo is so grown up now!"

"Relax, Y/n, come on..." He groaned, hugging you back and kissing your cheek back. He was already taller than you.

"Kyaaah!" You squealed again in delight, then looked at Elena.

"Long time no see, principessa!" You hugged her tight, and she giggled.

Alima came down, laughing. Alexander pulled her close to him and kissed her hard.

"Ew! Stop that!" You exclaimed dramatically.

"Go upstairs then!" Alexander shouted.

You stuck your tongue out at him then went upstairs, opening your laptop and sending a message to the Don of Passione.

Ciao, Don Giovanna, you wrote, I'd like to make a deal. You pressed send and sighed.

★★★★★★★★★

The gang was back at their home, relaxing and talking.

"Hey, Giorno, you got a message." Narancia said, handing the computer to him.

"Someone wants to make a deal." Giorno said, his eyes fixated on the screen.

"Well, who is it?" Mista butted in, shoving Narancia off the couch and sitting next to him.

Who's this? Giorno typed, then eagerly waited for a response.

Forgive my lack of manners. I'm the leader of Il Terrore.

Giorno slightly gasped. "Il Terrore? That's strange."

Trish's head shot up from her constant texting and she smiled silently to herself.

Okay. What kind of deal would you like to make? Giorno responded.

I want to be allies. I have heard of your immense power and your drive to keep drugs out of Italy deeply impresses me.

Giorno gasped louder and Bucciarati looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"He wants to be allies."

"Ask what he'll do in return if you grant him friendship."

What will you give me in return?

I'm sure you've heard of my family's collection of the Arrows. I'll give half of those into your possession, 10 million lira, and whatever else you wish for.

Giorno's eyes widened. Mista leaned over and smirked seeing the offer.

Alright.

Can we meet in person?

"He wants to meet in person."

"He's going to murder you in cold blood." Abbachio decided to join the conversation.

"Don't be ridiculous, Abbachio, he's not going to do that. The Romano family is a very respected one." Fugo said.

"Whatever. Go if you wanna get killed." Abbachio rolled his eyes.

Giorno sighed and typed his response, Sure.

Meet me at the restaurant Libeccio tomorrow at 1600, and we can talk then.

Sounds good.

Grazie, Don Giovanna. See you there.

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