[He casts a glance over at where Star Platinum is waiting, silent and stoic and patient. He'd told Kakyoin before to be patient, not to ask him the one thing he was fairly certain he'd want to know most — how he'd done it, what method he'd managed to contrive to defeat an unbeatable Stand. Kakyoin of all people would have reason to want to know; he was the one who'd figured out its power. He was the one who'd died working it out. He was the one eternally frustrated by the recognition that quite possibly, there was nothing he could've done to succeed in his last stand; that even the best effort he could've possibly put forth would still have fallen short.
Kakyoin is the one person he doesn't think he can stand to tell.
But it would be nice to say it, just once, and whether he realizes it or not, Giorno has given him an opportunity, and proved to be a person adept enough at reading between the lines that he won't need to say much in order to say everything.]
I could show you the secret of his Stand.
[It's simple, quiet. Oddly, it's not wracked with tension and grief. It's just nine words that barely scratch the surface of something he's on a long and difficult road toward accepting.]
no subject
Kakyoin is the one person he doesn't think he can stand to tell.
But it would be nice to say it, just once, and whether he realizes it or not, Giorno has given him an opportunity, and proved to be a person adept enough at reading between the lines that he won't need to say much in order to say everything.]
I could show you the secret of his Stand.
[It's simple, quiet. Oddly, it's not wracked with tension and grief. It's just nine words that barely scratch the surface of something he's on a long and difficult road toward accepting.]