[He opens his mouth for a moment in confusion, unsure what to say. There are a lot of remarkable things about him, but none of them completely wash out his humanity, make it any easier for him to come up with something to say when instructed to. It takes a moment for him to push past an insecurity that's far more in line with his age than most things about him, and allow himself to simply say the first thing that comes to mind.]

[Even now, he doesn't speak without purpose. His favorite color is inconsequential; Italy, without context or love, is just another place. So his mind goes to safer places, and he begins to speak, quietly but intently.]

My family and I rescued a girl named Trish. She's my age, the daughter of my enemy; we were supposed to take her back to him. We didn't. She's my right hand now, she's saved my life so many times. Have you ever met someone who felt like family right away? I have. She wasn't like that. We had to work at it, because she didn't trust us and we didn't trust her, but somewhere along the way it fell into place, and then it was as though we'd always known each other.

[And more; there's plenty more to say, but he's focused now on Jotaro, waiting for the other shoe to drop.]