JJBA x Readers Volume 2

Bruno Bucciarati: Pericolo

Rosabella was curled up in the air vent, listening to her father's meeting with someone who sounded like a friend of some sort. She had been asked to stay put outside the small backroom, free to play outside in a closed off dining area in the restaurant, since it was quiet during the daytime. Having gotten bored, she clambered into the vent, attempting to climb up towards the ceiling. She was just the right size to hold herself against the sides and climb, but it was a good two and a half to three metre height, especially tall for a four year old.
His voice carried through, the young girl only understanding certain words and phrases. It sounded there was only one man there, along with her father.
"There's been talk of a rival gang threatening to overthrow Passione."
"A rival gang? Hm, Passione is split into so many parts, surely they can't get them all."
She had heard about this 'Passione' before, though she didn't understand what it meant. Pressing her palm against the dusty surface of the vent, her fingers became sticky like jelly, enough to stick to the side and support her weight as she climbed up. Sometimes, her skin would take on this rubbery form, making her able to stick to things or stretch her limbs. However, she wasn't always able to control it.

Getting to the top, the girl peered through the small vent above the room, it's slats open enough to let her see. Dust had collected so much over time, as she had disturbed it, it flew into a fog like cloud, stinging her nose and forcing her to wrinkle it. Her tiny hands clasped themselves over her face, but it wasn't enough to lessen the irritation.
"Ahh... Ahh... Choo!!!"

Falling through, she squeaked as she hit something hard. Someone's knee had broken her fall before she hit the ground.
"Oh, dear," it mumbled, checking out the person in front of him.
"Rosabella!" The snap startled her, huge eyes staring at her disappointed father across the room. He snatched her from the ground, checking her over with a grimace. "Please forgive my daughter," he spoke clearly, peering up at the broken vent in the ceiling. "HOW did you get up there?!" Turning to her, he placed her on his desk and put a hand on his hip. "You're in trouble."
Though his tone was sweet and endearing, his pouting face and narrowed eyes made her shrink down in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry Papa... I just wanted to see you." Scooping her up, he rolled his eyes and huffed as she buried her face into his shoulder.
"You could have hurt yourself, Tesoro," he murmured, rocking her in his arms. "Mama would have had a heart attack."
"Hmm," the old man chuckled, tilting his head and smiling at the little girl. "She's the spit of you, Bucciarati. How many children do you have now?"
"Four," he sighed, brushing dust off her clothes and dirt from her knees. The old man didn't see him often anymore, since he didn't work for Passione anymore after suffering what he had been told was a botched suicide attempt. "Rosabella, this is Signore Pericolo, a friend of Papa's. Are you going to say hello?"

"And how about your wife, Y/N? I don't see her much these days."
"Y/N and I... We don't work for the organisation anymore."