Asphodel

Chapter 7

     The funeral was scheduled for the day the plan was first supposed to take place. They postponed the plan, giving them time to process this early loss.

     Mista's family was unknown as he never mentioned even his parents' names, so his body was given to Bruno to plan the burial. The mafia leader's first plan was a graveyard not far from his house, but after discussing it with Giorno that was quickly changed.

     As the small procession made their way through the trees towards the small lake by the stump, Giorno did not shed any tears. He looked worn-out, his eyes hollow and rimmed with red, clearly showing he had been crying. But not now. He knew Diavolo was most likely watching them through some means, wanting to see how they reacted to the life he had taken. And even if the florist knew he wasn't, he wouldn't have cried- he knew it wouldn't do anything but weaken his resolve. Instead he stored the emotion, feeling it simmer into a controlled rage that settled in his stomach, waiting for the chance of revenge.

     There was no formal service planned. Mista never was one to enjoy listening to people ramble on, even if it was about him. Instead, they placed the coffin by the freshly-dug hole it would later be rested in, inviting people to say their last goodbyes.

     Bruno was there, along with Narancia and Fugo and even Abbacchio, who stood next to his partner, their hands entwined. Giorno's mother had shown up, much to her son's surprise, and looked genuinely sad despite not having known the deceased. The owner of the restaurant that Cerniera had eaten at when first introduced to Giorno was there as well. And lastly, a few of the lower gang members that Giorno did not recognize were there as well, standing in a protective circle in case the head of Passione decided to use this moment of weakness to attack. These were the people that Mista had impacted; a small, cluttered collection who now stood in mourning around the casket, waiting for the first person to step up.

     Surprisingly, it was Abbacchio who moved first. Walking up to the black-wood coffin he said nothing, simply placing his hand above the place where, underneath the lid, Mista's chest was. He stayed there for a few moments, looking down at the smooth surface underneath his palm. Giorno remembered how he seemed almost protective of the gunman and felt a tug of sympathy for the man.

     Bruno was next, moving to stand next to his partner and placing his hand on top of Abbacchio's. He murmured a few things not audible to Giorno, closing his eyes as he leaned into the man next to him.

     Then, one by one, each person moved up to place their hand on the coffin, saying their final words to the boy who lay in it either in their minds or out loud, until Giorno was the only one left. He couldn't bring himself to walk up to the casket in finality, saying a last goodbye to the first person he had truly loved and trusted. It was too final, a gesture that marked that his partner was permanently gone.

     "You should go up." A voice said behind him and he looked over to find his mother, awkwardly standing beside him. "I think he would have wanted you to."

     "You didn't know him." Giorno muttered, looking away. His mother was the last person he wanted to speak to at the moment.

     "You know," she continued, ignoring the last comment, "when your father died I was afraid to go up to the coffin as well. I think it was because I loved him so much that when it was time to say goodbye, I couldn't bring myself to do so."

     Giorno was surprised, this was the first time he had heard her talk about the details of his father's death. "Did you?"

     "No." she replied softly. "And I still regret it to this day." she paused for a minute, letting the words sink in, and then continued. "I never got to meet Mista, but I know what it's like to lose someone you love. If you go up, I think it might make you feel a bit better."