Chapter Text
Morning starts with sunlight creeping through the curtains, spilling gold across the nursery floor.
Giorno stirs under his blankets, a small lump wrapped like a sleepy caterpillar, clutching a plush turtle under one arm. His hair is a gentle mess of curls, sticking up like he lost a fight with invisible bees.
He wakes with a soft sound — halfway between a yawn and the noise a baby bird makes when it's confused by existence.
Today is his first day of daycare.
He has no idea what "daycare" really means. He only knows two things:
- Jonathan said he would "make new friends."
- Dio made seventeen threats to the universe in general last night about what would happen if "anything imperfect" happened to his son.
The household is already awake. Footsteps echo down the hall — Jonathan's calm, measured steps, then Dio's louder, urgent ones right behind him.
The door to Giorno's room swings open.
Jonathan enters first, smiling gently. "Good morning, sunshine."
Dio barges in right behind him, eyes dramatic and intense. "IS HE ALIVE — oh. Yes. He is awake. Good."
Giorno blinks at both of them, curls flopping. "Papa... Daddy..."
Jonathan kneels beside the bed. "Ready for your first day?"
Giorno nods sleepily.
He's not ready.
He doesn't even know what he's supposed to be ready for. But Jonathan looks proud, and Dio looks like a wolf trying very hard to look non-threatening for his pup, so Giorno nods again for good measure.
Dio scoops him up before Jonathan can. "My little angel will absolutely not be leaving my sight today unless I personally—"
Jonathan pats his arm. "Dio, dear. Let him breathe."
Dio pauses, looks down, realizes he is hugging Giorno like he's trying to merge their atoms together, and lets out a huff. "...Fine."
He loosens his embrace by exactly one millimeter.
Bath?
Jonathan handles it. Because the last time Dio tried, he nearly drowned himself panicking because Giorno sneezed near water.
Outfit?
Dio handles that one. Or tries to.
He pulls out a black velvet miniature suit, complete with a vest, tie, golden cufflinks, and shoes that probably cost more than Bruno's rent.
Jonathan stares. "...That's a suit."
"All great men wore suits early in life." Dio declares.
"He's three."
"He must establish his legacy."
Giorno quietly picks up his favorite ladybug hoodie.
Jonathan beams. "Oh look, he chose! Perfect."
Dio looks like he's been personally betrayed, but Giorno doesn't notice — he's too busy trying to put his little shoes on the wrong feet.
Jonathan helps him change into:
• the ladybug hoodie
• soft tan shorts
• tiny socks with cartoon dolphins
• and a pair of white sneakers
Dio is suffering.
But Giorno looks adorable, and Jonathan is firm on this point: "He's a child. Let him be one."
Dio mutters something about "Fine, but I'm sending him with a bulletproof backpack." and Jonathan tells him to stop being dramatic.
Giorno holds the backpack up. "...It has turtles."
"Yes." Jonathan says, smoothing his hair. "Because you like turtles."
Dio opens his mouth to object but Giorno beams up at him, and Dio melts like butter in a pan. "Turtles are... yes. Acceptable."
The Daycare isn't far — just a ten-minute walk through a pleasant neighborhood street.
Giorno holds Jonathan's hand, and Jonathan holds Dio's hand because if he doesn't, Dio will storm ahead and interrogate every mailbox they pass.
Along the way, people greet them.
"Good morning, Jonathan!"
"Lovely weather today!"
"Hey! Dio! Try not to glare at the street signs!"
Dio hisses. "The signs were crooked."
"They were fine." Jonathan sighs.
Giorno watches a butterfly. He tries to waddle toward it, but Jonathan gently pulls him back so he does not fall into a bush.
When they finally approach Bucciarati Daycare, Giorno stops walking.
Not because he's scared — he's three. He's curious. The building is bright, colorful, covered in hand-painted murals of cartoon animals and big smiling suns. There's a small fenced play area with swings and a sandbox.
Jonathan crouches to Giorno's level. "This is where you will make friends. We will pick you up this afternoon."
Dio crouches next to him but with a seriousness better suited for a battlefield. "If anyone touches you without permission, scream."
"Dio."
"What? It's a good advice."
"I think he will be fine."
But Dio is not listening — he's too busy scanning the perimeter for threats, including a suspiciously shaped leaf and the shadow of a passing cloud.
The door slides open, and Bruno Bucciarati steps out like he's auditioning for "Best Daycare Owner Ever." His smile is warm, his hair perfect, his shirt spotless. He radiates "I have my life together" vibes.
Behind him, Leone Abbacchio sips a massive mug of coffee and radiates "I absolutely do not have my life together but I pretend for Bruno's sake."
"Good morning." Bruno chirps. "You must be Giorno."
Giorno hides behind Jonathan's leg, peeking out with big blue eyes.
Dio steps forward.
Everything in Bruno's posture freezes like he just stepped in front of a lion.
"Hello." Dio says dangerously politely. "If my son returns with so much as a single hair out of place—"
"Dio." Jonathan warns.
Bruno keeps his professional daycare smile plastered on, but his soul has already left his body. "I assure you he will be perfectly safe. We—"
Abbacchio walks past Bruno, muttering into his coffee, "Bruno, you said parents were manageable."
Bruno elbows him lightly in the ribs.
Jonathan apologizes seventeen times in thirty seconds.
Giorno is still peeking out, holding his turtle plush by the head.
Then Bruno crouches down to him, voice soft. "Hey, Giorno. We're really glad to have you here."
Giorno tilts his head like a confused baby owl.
Bruno smiles wider.
The kid does not respond.
Jonathan apologizes again.
Inside the Daycare
The moment Giorno steps in, the room is chaos. Pure chaos.
The Children:
- Mista is trying to feed a cracker to something inside his backpack.
- Narancia is shouting because Mista won't let him see whatever is in the backpack.
- Fugo is explaining germs to a plant. Loudly.
- Trish is sitting on a beanbag chair like a five-year-old queen on her throne.
- Jolyne is climbing the bookshelf.
Josuke stops everything and stares because Giorno's curls sparkle under the sunlight and Josuke's tiny heart experiences its first crush so intensely that Abbacchio has to guide him to sit down before he passes out.
Josuke whispers, "Bruno... who is that?"
Bruno lifts Giorno up slightly. "This is Giorno. He's new today."
Josuke leans forward. "He's cute."
Jotaro, who is chopping vegetables in the daycare's kitchen, chokes audibly.
Bruno brings Giorno to the group of kids, who are buzzing like hyperactive bees.
Josuke bounces up first, bright-eyed. "Hi! I am Josuke! You're Giorno, right?"
Giorno nods. "Yes."
Josuke's cheeks immediately go pink. "You look like... uh... sunshine."
Giorno blinks. "Oh. Thank you. You look like... hair?"
Bruno pinches the bridge of his nose. "Giorno, sweetheart, maybe not hair?"
"But... he has hair."
Josuke beams anyway. "It's okay! He noticed me!"
Abbacchio, walking by: "This is going to be a long day."
From the daycare's kitchen, Jotaro watches the kids with a face that says: "I am one incident away from quitting."
He sets a snack tray on the counter.
When Giorno toddles up to peek into the kitchen, Jotaro freezes like he has stumbled upon a rare, tiny animal.
"...You new?" he asks, voice deep and bored.
Giorno nods timidly.
Jotaro hands him a small cup of juice. "Don't spill that or Bruno will cry."
"I won't." Giorno says seriously.
Jotaro stares. Then ruffles his hair, just once. "Good kid."
The chaos begins with the pigeon.
Of course it's the pigeon.
Mista tries once again to show everyone what's in his backpack, and this time the bird escapes, bursting into flight around the room.
Narancia screams. The other kids scream. Bruno runs for the broom. Abbacchio mutters something about early retirement.
Giorno, meanwhile, walks calmly to a corner, picks up a seed from the floor, and holds it out.
The pigeon lands gently in his palm.
The entire classroom freezes.
Bruno stares.
Abbacchio's mug slips from his hand.
Josuke gasps like he's witnessing a miracle.
Narancia shouts, "HE HAS MAGIC!"
Mista shouts, "HE STOLE MY BIRD—"
Giorno blinks. "He was hungry."
Bruno inhales slowly. "Okay, okay. Everyone stay calm. Giorno, sweetheart, that's very gentle and kind of you. Mista, why did you bring a pigeon—"
Mista throws his hands up. "He followed me!"
"Birds do not follow people." Fugo argues.
"This one did!"
"I am going to lose my mind." Bruno whispers to no one.
Abbacchio picks up his mug again. "And you said opening a Daycare would be fun."
Giorno and Josuke end up sitting next to each other at snack time. Josuke keeps offering him pieces of his crackers, which Giorno politely puts in a neat little pile he never touches.
"Do you like toys?" Josuke asks.
"Yes."
"Do you like flowers?"
"Yes."
"Do you like... um... friendship?"
Giorno tilts his head. "...Is that food?"
Josuke clutches his heart dramatically.
Later, during quiet play, everyone drifts into their own little worlds. Giorno sits alone for a moment, staring at puzzle pieces. His brows furrow. He is concentrating very hard.
Josuke plops beside him with a tiny, proud smile. "I can help!"
And with all the confidence of a kid who wants to impress his crush, he proceeds to put the puzzle together upside down.
Giorno watches.
"...It's wrong."
"Oh." Josuke blushes. "Um. Sorry."
Giorno pushes a correct piece toward him.
"It's okay." he says softly. "We can fix it."
Josuke's face lights up like a sparkler.
Bruno watches from across the room, smiling quietly.
Abbacchio mutters, "They're three. Why do they have more chemistry than half the adults I know?"
Naptime should be peaceful.
Should.
Trish refuses to sleep because the blanket "is not pink enough."
Narancia keeps whispering.
Mista rolls off the mat twice.
Jolyne snores like a tiny, adorable chainsaw.
Giorno lies on his mat, staring at the ceiling, clutching his turtle plush. A quiet sadness settles over him — first-day nerves finally catching up.
Bruno kneels beside him. "Hey. You okay?"
Giorno's eyes glimmer tearfully. "Papa and Daddy... gone."
Bruno's chest squeezes.
"They will come back." he says, brushing Giorno's curls back. "They always come back."
Giorno sniffles. "Promise?"
Bruno smiles softly. "Promise."
Giorno nods. He closes his eyes. He falls asleep to the gentle noise of children breathing, the smell of crayons and snacks, and the soft hum of a daycare alive with tiny lives.
Bruno stands up slowly.
Abbacchio appears at his side with a whisper. "You're too soft for this job."
Bruno sighs. "Maybe."
"...But good job." Abbacchio adds grudgingly.
Bruno smiles.
Jonathan arrives first, bright-eyed and eager.
Dio arrives three seconds later like a missile.
"WHERE IS MY SON—"
Giorno wakes instantly from where he's sitting on the rug, face lighting up. "Daddy!"
Dio swoops him up dramatically, hugging him so hard Bruno nearly intervenes.
"Was he safe? Did he fall? Did he breathe too hard? Did someone look at him suspiciously—"
Jonathan pats his shoulder. "Dio. He's fine."
Bruno smiles warmly. "He did wonderfully. Very polite. Very gentle. He tamed a pigeon."
Jonathan: "A what."
Dio: "A WHAT."
Bruno decides this is a conversation for tomorrow.
Giorno just nuzzles into Jonathan's neck, content.
Josuke waves sadly. "Bye, Giorno..."
Giorno waves back. "Bye... friend."
Josuke melts.
And when the little family walks away, Dio carries Giorno on his shoulders, Jonathan holding his hand. Giorno leans down, touching Jonathan's hair.
"Daycare... good."
Jonathan beams.
Dio whispers, "I still don't like it."
But Giorno smiles for the first time all day, sweet and soft and safe.
And that is enough.