[Tw: Self-harm and homophobic language]

Giorno looked away in shame, picking up the chocolate bar wrapper and pretending to be interested in it.

How did he know? He's pretty sure he hid his bruises and scars pretty well.

Maybe he was overreacting-- he's just warping the implications of Bucciarati's questions. Ya, that's it, he just needs to breathe and calm down. He didn't know anything, Giorno reasoned with himself. Its just a stupid assumption made by a teacher that cared way too much about his stupid well-being. Nothing more, nothing less.

Giorno schooled his facial expression, his heart was racing and he was cold and tired but he at least looked calm. That's all that matters in the end. As long as he always looked a certain way nobody would know, and that means nobody would care. It was one of the only things he was good at in his opinion, other than being the scum of the earth of course.

Giorno turned back and looked at Bucciarati, speaking as clearly as possible as to not give away his very well hidden nervousness, "No sir, im perfectly fine. Nothing bad happened at my house, I just got tired because I stayed up too long yesterday," Giorno lied with both class and elegance.

He looked to Bucciarati to see his reaction, hoping that the man would let him off with a fake smile just like everyone else had.

He is a mastermind when it comes to lying, it is practically second nature at this point in his life. He had fooled many with his acting, frequently playing the part of the perfect son or the quiet but smart asian kid. He wrote beautifully scripted scenes with his words whenever he had to appear like he had a normal home life so that the kids at school didn't have anymore anuimition to use against him.

Everything had to perfect, it was the only way anyone wouldn't get too close -- to lessen the pain that flowed through his veins like mercury waters-- so that maybe one day when he wasn't so scared, he'd go out as quietly as a chrysanthemum in both its meaning and subsequently beauty. The best part is that nobody would care about him. He'd decay and wilt and be purified in the hands of death. Maybe he came across as arrogant or cocky this way, but he felt way better playing the role than being himself.

Who wants to be Haruno Shiobana anyways? He was flawed and annoying and made trouble wherever he went. He was a mere stain on what was supposed to be Giorno Giovanna. He just had to play the part of Giorno, a well-rounded, friendly and serious boy that was both charming and very ambitious. He doesn't care if he's a little too perfect or bland, as long as nobody knew or realized, he was fine.

But of course Bucciarati still noticed his imperfections. He wanted the man's blue-- way to blue-- eyes to stop looking at him. He felt him dissecting and pulling apart everything about him. He was nothing but an insect or microorganism being observed through a microscope. Maybe even a cell being peered down upon the mighty eyes of God Themself.

How useless can he get?

How much more does he have to do to be left alone before he snaps?

------

Bruno sighed while seemingly contemplating what he was going to do in this situation. He didn't know how Giorno was going to even take the information that he was about to lay onto him. This was clearly something he wanted to keep hidden from everyone, unfortunately, he didn't have the option to open up to it himself.

The sad expression did not leave his face as he turned to the boy in question who looked very much exhausted. He tried to give him another one of his signature smiles but it came off was ungenuine and fake. Today was a rather eventful day, especially for a monday. He sighed and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say.

"Giorno, you know you don't have to lie to me right? I'm here to help you... I promise I won't do anything else.."

"Well Mr.Bucciarati, I believe that there is nothing wrong here. Everything is fine. As I said before, I simply passed out from exhaustion, and sir i'm not lying. Sorry if that comes off as rude but I really need to get home."

He looked Giorno in the eyes, feeling a chill run down his back while he made painful eye contact with him. It felt like all the oxygen had been stolen from right out of his lungs.

Bucciarati looked away from him and his voice got softer, which was never a good sign from anyone.

" I-- the school nurse and I....we saw the scars, Giorno. She was looking to see if you possibly got injured when you fainted on the track field. She...rolled up your sleeves. She didn't look anywhere else and contacted me for help. I--please Giorno, tell me whats going on.."

Bucciarati spoke, the words falling out of his mouth like they hurt too much to keep to himself.

The whole atmosphere of the room changed after that. There was a heavy silence that floated amist both of them as Giorno shifted a bit in bed he was laying on. It had grown terribly cold.

Bucciarati was tense, waiting to see Giorno's reaction. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it, maybe he made a huge mistake but something in him told him he couldn't let this go. It was way too important to him, nobody deserves to hurt like that. He saw the size of that bruise on Giorno, the mark twisting in a horrible gradient of both the colors blue and purple. It was too big to be anything other than a hand mark and definitely was not a mistake. Nobody holds on that hard to someone like that unless they intended to make it hurt.

Of course, Giorno had done a steller job at hiding it but he's still human, fuck, he was still 13. What else had he gone through without any help? The thought kept on weighing on him. He had noticed how Giorno acted both in his class and whenever he caught glimpses of him in the hallways. He was always too quiet, too hidden.

So he just assumed that the boy had been introverted and just needed some time to warm up to everyone. Now he knows that's definitely never the case.

Seeing Giorno reminded him of his own children, how they once were like him, but somehow the way Giorno acted scared him. He acted so differently, as if he had to fight tooth and nail the moment he took his first cruel breath into this world. Another thing told him if he couldn't--no, didn't--help him soon that maybe the amazing young man in front of him right now may not exist anymore.

------

Giorno's whole body stopped functioning, every single organ stopped pumping and he was in utter shock. He didn't feel like he was himself and his breathing was getting quicker by the second. His body felt like jelly but at the same time, he felt like he was stuffed full with lead. He could hear the blood rushing to his head, his heart was beating so fast that any drumline would be put to shame. The adrenaline of the sudden new information he was given was taking over his body, his thoughts and his mind.

He needs to get out of here.

He needs to run, this is so bad.

He had thought the man felt bad because he found out he wasn't eating but nope, instead Bucciarati and the nurse had a peak at his awfully rundown and used body. They saw that god forsaken mark his stepfather had given him in his drug filled state.

Suddenly, he could feel the man again. His touches, his words. They filled his head like a poison. It hurts so bad. He wanted to leave. Why did this all happen today? They knew too much, it felt like they had torn each and every part of his defenses and disregarded them like they were unimportant.

Of course they are because they were his but it didn't make the pain hurt any less. It didn't make his paranoia and easier either.

He willed himself to calm down. Slowing down his breathing and scolding himself for being overly reactive again. He indulged himself with his heavy mask of neutrality that held away a million words and hidden thousands of tears.

To Bucciarati it looked like Giorno had started to shake before going suddenly stilling while looking down at the mattress.

Suddenly, Giorno slowly stood out of the bed, startling Bucciarati who started to speak up again, "Giorno I-,"

Before he could finish his sentence, Giorno quickly muttered, "Sorry sir, that isn't true, I'm fine, everything is fine," he looked up to Bucciarati and gave him a sad smile.

"Unfortunately, the marks on my arms are from my bullies. My father would never do such a thing." Giorno felt the acid in his stomach sloshing around as he turned away from Bucciarati once again. His lies felt like metal shackles he had fastest on himself. They were the only things that kept him grounded.

"I'll be going home now sir. I'll miss dinner if I don't go home soon."

With that, Giorno quickly turned and walked out of the room, leaving Bucciarati in shock.

"Giorno, please wait up!" Bucciarati exclaimed, speed walking to catch up with him.

Giorno stopped and looked at him, curious as to what was about to happen. Bruno sighed in relief when he saw the boy stop and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He had horrible lungs.

"Giorno, hold out your hand for me please."

Giorno was a bit confused but still followed the orders he was given. He still wanted to appear polite, it was practically hardwired into him. Even though he really did want to be there right now and would much rather go home.

Bucciarati took out a pen from his spotted suit and a piece of paper, quickly scribbly down something before handing it over to him.

"I know i'm not going to be able to stop you from going anywhere and I know that you probably don't want my help, but please, if anyone and I mean anyone is giving you trouble please come talk to me."

Giorno nodded at him, looking down at the floor and wondering if it was the most intriguing thing he'd ever seen.

"And Giorno," Giorno looked up to Bucciaratis face, seeing the most kind and caring expression he'd ever seen on anyone, and if he didn't know any better, he'd assume that Bucciarati was an angel sent down to save him.

"Please make sure to get some rest, you need it."

Giorno nodded before turning around and walking away, feeling more numb than anything after his and Bucciarati's interactions. He didn't look back, just desperate to leave as fast as he could so he could go to his house and lock himself in his room. The chocolate bar he ate earlier sat heavy in his stomach and he knows that is going to throw it up later.

-------------

Bruno watched him walk away, pain and regret already flooding his senses. He felt he did the wrong thing by letting Giorno walk away like that, probably into the jaws of danger. He just wishes that maybe if Giorno reaches out to him, he wouldn't have to go through all the trouble of trying to convince the flawed police department for help. He knows just how corrupt they are, they're just one bribe away for letting another abusive adult out into the general public.

He didn't want Giorno to look so sad. He didn't want him to think that nobody cared. If Giorno was going through anything he wanted to help him. He wanted to get him out of whatever slip he was in. Based on Giorno's reaction, his parents were the ones that were doing this to him, and Bruo hated neglectful and abusive parents. How dare someone think they can treat anyone like that, especially their own children. It made him sick.

God, he was new to this whole counselor thing.

In truth, he was actually supposed to be a substitute for someone called Polpo. The man had apparently been fired after he was found not only harrasing the female students, but also belittling the students that needed him the most. The school was too lazy to find another counselor and since he had actually gotten a bachelor in social work as a foster parent they decided he was a perfect candidate for the job. He has no idea why they made him be both a homeroom teacher and a counselor but didn't mind, per say. He was just stressed, very, very stressed.

Goddammit! He had failed, hadn't he?

Bucciarati decided to head back, maybe if he gave Giorno some time he would come to him, he was being very reckless, he knew that. Leone would probably know what to do, he always did.

With that Bucciarati took one last look at the hallway where Giorno had gone by. He had made up his mind, he was going to do everything in his power to help Giorno out of his situation. He was going to free him and he was going to make sure that nobody looks like they'd had to grow up far too young and fast to enjoy their youth. Being old was overrated anyways.

________________________________________________

Giorno's walk home felt like it took hours. He can't believe he's been caught, he even fucking ran away. His previous actions are weighing on his mind, festering and adding themselves to the reasons why he hated himself. If only he had told Bucciarati, he was given a chance to be saved-- to finally be free-- but instead he ran away like a coward. Why did he do that? Did he enjoy actively screwing himself over? He threw a great opportunity away and now he doesn't ever think he'll ever get it back, no matter how hard he'd beg for it. Whatever shitty entity up there had given him his chance, and in true Haruno fashion, he royally fucked it up.

He hated himself, he hated himself so much that his brain could not contain his hatred for himself anymore. Everytime he tried to do something, anything, he'd always end up failing, and now he doesn't even have his acting to fall upon anymore. Sooner or later he's going to accidentally let Haruno out and then he wouldn't be able to control his fickle emotions anymore. He needs to be punished for his wrong doings, he deserves it.

Thoughts of self harm festered inside his mind. He had played with the thought before but ultimately decided that it wasn't worth it. But now, he was starting to see the appeal. The thought of just cutting himself and his pain going away was a liberating one. He felt like it was the only thing he would have control of. In the end it has his blood that he voluntarily decided he was going to expel.

He knows it's a horrible idea, that the nurse and Bruno both had first hand accounts of his bruises and if they were to even see one self harm mark then he'd be sent to some kind of mental health facility and strapped down. Then he would probably be pumped full with some kind of antidepressant that actually made him feel like shit but he didn't care.

He just wanted to feel an emotion that was familiar.

He wanted to feel grounded and safe and comfortable.

Pain was comfortable.

Pain was familiar.

Pain was safe, it had to be safe. It was the one thing Giorno knew ever since he was a child and his mother would leave him in that tiny apartment complex in japan while she went out to party with her friends. He learned to bear with the pain when he was the ripe age of 3.

Now he felt the same pain, but in a new kinda way. It was no longer familiar, there was more to it. The pain was jumbled and jammed with a whole lot of different emotions. It would drag and on for so long but it also felt numb at the same time and sometimes about that was inferreyating. Every ounce of sanity he had was quickly draining, and if he didn't do something soon, he knows he would do something that he would regret.

Normally, Giorno would have walked right to the park and go to that lovely bridge with all tge frogs around it or maybe go home and tie that fucking rope around his neck. He wouldn't of course, cause no matter how hard he wished, he was too scared of killing himself. He was so damn scared.

Before he could fully indulge himself in his thoughts, he was already at the front door of his house. He made sure to quietly open the door and shut it before walking right up strais. He hasn't stepped foot in the kitchen since the incident. Apparently is mother was still home because when he turned the corner, he bumped right into her, almost falling right down the stairs that he previously walked up from.

"Oh, it's you," she said, her voice devoid of all emotion and her words as blunt as ever. The boy nodded back to her before attempting to walk to his room.

"Where do you think you're going, huh? You know you could actually make yourself useful instead of being a lazy little shit."

That was untrue, he was the only person that cleaned anything in this godforsaken house and she knew damn well that he was nothing but obedient.

"It's the least you can do after seducing my fucking husband you whore!" She screamed. If He looked close enough he could probably get a glimpse of the smoke rising out from her ears.

He looked down in shame, not knowing what to say. It was his fault but he still didn't fully understand how or why it was. All he knows is that he's causing his mother to be stressed right now and that he was probably gonna get in trouble if he didn't resolve it soon.

"I'm sorry..." he mumbled, hoping that she would at least let it slide because he knew that she didn't actually care about him anyways.

"Sorry is right you pig, I can believe he have a sluty f** as a son, I hate you Haruno. I hope you know that. I should have had an abortion like your father had told me too."

With that, she shoved him out of the way and angrily walked out of the house before slamming the door shut.

It took him a while to process just what she had said but when he did, it hit harder than a speeding bullet train. His legs felt like mush as he walked down stairs, making his way into that dreaded kitchen.

He was so useless, she was right. He shouldn't have ever existed, even his biological father hadn't wanted him to exist.

Giorno walked right up to where all the knives were placed and grabbed one before slowly making his way upstairs.

He should have died a long, long time ago. He should have left his poor family alone. Then maybe they wouldn't be in poverty, he was nothing but a glutinous parasite sucking up nutrients for both his parents and his teachers. He only burdened others.

He walked up to his room, grabbing onto the handle and slowly walking into the closet .

He had probably insulted so many people by him existing alone. He had people who wanted to help him but he only pushed them away.

He grabbed the knife and with shaking hands made a long, thin mark on his skin. He watched the blood pool out of the wound and drip down his arm.

He was useless, utterly useless. He would never look like the others, he would never have any friends. He would never have a family or a home because he was simply undeserving of them. The bare minimum was even too much. He deserves to die.

For a while he slit his wrist and watched as the blood flowed out of his body. It was so beautiful, a nice scarlet color. In a strange way, slitting his wrist was therapeutic, he felt a lot more calm and all his worries disappeared.

Giorno was suddenly starting out of his thoughts when he heard his phone ping from his pockets. Quickly, he rushed to the bathroom and washed up the blood before wrapping his arm up in a gaze and slashing water in his face to wake himself up.

What the hell had he done? Why did he do that and why did he actually feel good after it?

He realized that he didn't really feel much of anything other than a small ping of relief. It was like he had taken a nice nap after eating the best food he'd ever tasted.

He kinda liked it.

--------

When Giorno got back to his room, the first thing he did was hide the knife he had used under a floorboard, making sure that nobody would find it. The second thing he did was grab his phone out of his backpack and shut himself inside of his closet where both Kero Kero-kun and Haru-chan greeted him. He gave the plushies a little squeeze before he made himself comfortable and checked to see what he had received.

Unknown:

Hey :^3

You:

I'm sorry but who might this be?

Unknown:

It's me! Narancia from bio :^]

Oh, he had forgotten he gave Narancia his phone number earlier in the day. He thought the boy would have forgotten about him already.

Narancia:

Hey Gio, can I call you that?
Watever, anyways you wanna sit me wit my homies for lunch tmr?

You:

Im sorry but I feel like I'd be imposing

Narancia:

Nah, don't be silly Gio, if they gotta problem with ya then I'll tell em to back off

Mista been complaining about there being 4 of us any way :"")

Giorno did not want to go. He didn't really want to risk ruining their reputations and making people hate them for just associating with him, but at the same time he didn't want to disappoint Narancia either. Though he hasn't really talked with him before, he knows that Narancia is a pretty nice person. He seems sociable which he definitely was not. Yet here he is, talking to the friendly Narancia Ghirga after he asked for his phone number just so they could discuss frogs.

Has he mentioned that today has been a lot?

You:

Well, if they won't mind then I guess I could eat lunch with you tomorrow

Narancia:

Yah! Tk sm Gio! Sorry for overwhelming ya btw, I just get so excited to meet cool people

Lol X^3

Giorno felt his cheeks warm up when he read that. Nobody has ever said that to him before so he was quite startled. How was he supposed to respond to all this sudden positive attention being thrown at him like this?

You:

It's alright Narancia, thanks for even inviting me

Narancia:

Np Gio! See ya tmr ;)

You:
Likewise

After that he threw his phone on the floor and his face in both Kero Kero-kun and Haru-chan's soft plush bodies. How was he supposed to respond ro this feeling coursing through him right now. He has never felt like this before and honestly it was overwhelming.

Was he actually going to sit with them tomorrow? How was he even supposed to react? His mind kept running through series of what could happen tomorrow. He knew that he was probably gonna fuck up some how but maybe if he was well behaved they would realize that he wasn't worth his time.

But his mind kept playing an awful whole sequence of events that would lead him to him getting his first human friends. Of course he didn't have high hopes for it but the thought was enough to make his face feel a million times hotter and his heartbeat erratic.

He let go of his death Grip on both Kero Kero-kun and Haru-chan, letting them breath even though they were inanimate. Look, Giorno cares about them, alright?

"What am I supposed to do now guys, they wanna talk to me.."

Giorno sighed again before petting both plushies.

"Today has been such a bizarre day, hasn't it?"