[Giorno has, gradually, sat up. He had been lying on the ground, curled on the grass, asleep. Because he is who he is, a few flowers sprouted while he was sleeping; he's been watching them while he talked to Polnareff, occasionally stroking them and watching them grow a little more. They're very pretty. He's happy with them.]
[Less so when a child wanders into the garden without any pants. His eyes widen a little. That's . . . what, this again? Bruno and now this? Because of course he recognizes this child. The hair's the same, even if the face is different, and he recognizes the clothes from earlier, and the expression . . . yeah. That's--]
Pap--
[Wait, no.]
Pol--
[Not quite. He tucks a stray wisp of hair behind his ear and tries one more time.]
no subject
[Less so when a child wanders into the garden without any pants. His eyes widen a little. That's . . . what, this again? Bruno and now this? Because of course he recognizes this child. The hair's the same, even if the face is different, and he recognizes the clothes from earlier, and the expression . . . yeah. That's--]
Pap--
[Wait, no.]
Pol--
[Not quite. He tucks a stray wisp of hair behind his ear and tries one more time.]
. . . Jean?