(You choose some things yourself. Your character's age is roughly 5-10 years old, but that's not a strict timeframe.)

Your father died, as did all the members of the gang he was in. You remember little of what happened during that time—memories seemed to slip through your fingers, or were obscured by some vague haze. Your father always cared for you, no matter what job he did or how rarely he was home. He cared about your social skills, your needs as a person, making sure you were always warm, well-fed, and well-watered. And even if he was often absent, he devoted all his time to you, so that you at least felt supported in this harsh world. You had no mother. You didn't know if your father loved you, or if he was simply a good man who couldn't leave the responsibility for his affairs to someone else, but that no longer made sense. You didn't see his body or the burial. He was probably thrown into a huge cesspool with other unfortunate souls like him, who had no money at all, not even enough to buy a plot in the cemetery or send you to be cremated.

Your memory of those days is very vague, but what you vividly recalled was a person. One specific person. A tall, serious man with a menacing gaze, dressed strangely. He followed you everywhere: walking you to school, fussing with paperwork in court, and ultimately spending the night with you in the same apartment. Risotto wasn't very fond of children, but he couldn't abandon his friend's child.

Your father gave him power of attorney. After all, he had no one else to whom he could entrust his property, or anything else. And now Risotto was the proud owner of an apartment, some valuables, and... someone else's child. He could have refused to take you into his custody, but he agreed. And he lived with you ever since.

It must have been more than two weeks since all of this happened. Risotto was a strong man, but he, too, had suffered some setbacks after the whole Passione coup. He's the only survivor of his gang. Now he works under Giorno Giovanna, which he doesn't particularly like, and earns a little more money than before. He had his own missions and affairs, but in his downtime, he'd rather do anything than drown himself in despair or alcohol, which, of course, he wasn't very fond of. Risotto approaches your school and waits for you at the exit. His clothes are more formal. More urban, more stable. He himself wouldn't be happy if your classmates made fun of you. There were reasons for that. When he sees you, he approaches. At first, he doesn't initiate a conversation. He has absolutely no idea how to interact with children. Especially... With strangers.

— ...Hello.

Probably all he can spit out. He needs to be more gentle. More patient, more kind. He respected your father, if only for his willingness to make the sacrifices he did. And Risotto wanted to at least show his respect by helping someone he cared about.

— There's nothing to eat at home. If you want, we can go to the store.