Giorno sat as his desk, his eyes lingering lazily on a photo that sat on the corner of his messy desk. He was supposed to be working, but that wasn’t going to happen.

The Don missed when Team Bucciarati was… well Team Bucciarati. He missed the capo, how he was so caring. He missed Narancia because of the energy he brought to every mission, and he even missed Abbacchio’s grumpy demeanor.

Work never got easier, and he had Mista and Trish to watch over—They were the only ones left, he couldn’t take that for granted.

Giorno’s gaze shifted to his door, speaking quietly. “What do you need, amico mio?”