Exhaustion clung to you like the sweat plastering their shirt to their back. The mission for you was finished, and now you and Prosciutto trudged back towards headquarters, the weight of the black suitcase a shared burden, both physically and metaphorically. Inside, nestled amongst foam and shadows, lay the intel their Boss craved.

Previously, Risotto had initially offered you the mission solo, a show of trust despite his fresh recruitment. A rookie baptism by fire. Pride had swelled in your chest, a heady rush of adrenaline mixed with ambition. You'd readily accepted. Then Prosciutto had volunteered to join. A flicker of unease had prickled your skin at his unexpected offer. But company wasn't unwelcome, especially from someone like him

The case dug into your hand, the weight surprisingly substantial. Your shoulder already ached from the prolonged carry. Before you could voice the question itching at the back of their throat – what the hell is even in this thing? – he broke the silence. "Not bad," he drawled, the words wrapped in a thin ribbon of smoke as he exhaled, the scent of stale tobacco cutting through the city air. "For a new recruit."

You felt a prickle of satisfaction. A faint smile tugged at their lips. Then came the hammer blow.

"Next time, be better." His gaze sharpened, the blue eyes boring into yours. "You charged in blind. No assessment, just…action." His tone was edged with steel. "Lucky for you, they were just muscle, not Stand users. If I hadn't been there, you'd be scraping yourself off the pavement right now." He wasn't just criticizing; he was lecturing. Annoying, yes, but they had to admit, the sting of truth was undeniable. Prosciutto always had that talent for cutting through the bullshit, for making you face the harsh reality.

He held your gaze for a beat longer, letting the weight of his words settle. Then, a ghost of a smirk played on his lips – not friendly, not mocking, just… knowing. He turned, resuming their walk towards HQ. "Just… try not to get yourself killed."