Fugo was having a bad day.

Yesterday wasn't nearly as brutal as this morning had been. Everything irritated him from the second he got up. He saw the clock: 9:30. Shit, I overslept. We have to be there in thirty minutes and it takes fifteen to get there. He bumped into the nightstand in his haste, upending the cup of water he had placed there the night before. Now his socks were wet. He peeled them off and headed to the bathroom where the toothpaste was nearly empty and the cap was left off. Fucking Mista. There was no hot water left either. He couldn't be sure but he thought that was likely Giorno's doing. He took longer in the shower. They had multiple bathrooms but only one hot water heater. He and Mista shared the bathroom but Mista was usually in and out in ten minutes. He just usually left the place in shambles as he went. Well, I didn't have time to shower anyway.

Fugo headed downstairs and caught his barefoot on the carpet transition strip causing him to cut his foot. He sucked in his breath and swore. It wasn't that deep but it didn't matter, it only angered him more. He walked into the kitchen and found the coffee pot was already empty since he'd been the last one to wake up. Damn it! He wasn't that hungry so he just made himself some toast which he'd burnt since the dial was too high. Abbacchio liked his toast to disintegrate in his mouth. He threw the burned mess away as his nerves continued to pulse in a way that made him jumpy. He put fresh bread in and lowered the timer. He poured himself some orange juice and took several deep breaths. As he took a sip, Narancia and Giorno walked in from the other room. They both stopped to look at him still in his pajamas.

"What the hell, Panni? You're not even dressed yet?" Narancia asked.

"I overslept," Fugo snapped. He drained the rest of the glass.

"Fugo, we're leaving in ten minutes," Giorno warned.

"I know that! I still have to eat though!" He slammed the empty glass too hard on the table and it shattered in his grip cutting his hand. "Shit!"

"Fugo!" Narancia said as he grabbed the hand towel off the oven handle and wrapped his bleeding hand in it. Giorno walked over and cradled his hand under both of theirs.

"Hold still," Giorno said in a hushed tone. He carefully pulled out the few glass shards in his hand and then rest his hand over Fugo's. The wounds closed up easily and Narancia wiped off the remaining blood from Fugo's hand. Fugo just closed his eyes and shook his head. Fucking great. Perfect. Abbacchio and Bucciarati then entered with Mista in tow.

"Hey, what gives? We're loading up, are you even coming?" Mista noticed Fugo's still disheveled state. Fugo glared at him.

"What happened?" Bucciarati asked noticing the blood before anything else. Fugo opened his mouth about to say something he'd regret when Giorno cut him off.

"Just a small accident but everything's fine now." Giorno looked to Fugo. "Why don't you go finish getting ready, we'll clean up here."

"Yeah, Fugo, don't worry about it! I'll clean it up right now!" Narancia chirped as he took the towel and began to carefully scoop up the remains of the cup.

"Come meet us in the car when you're done," Giorno said nodding. Fugo sighed in annoyance and turned to go back upstairs, forgetting about his toast in the process. He quickly changed into his clothes, he was feeling red more than green today so he put on that suit instead. He ran a brush through his hair but it wasn't worth actually trying more without washing which there wasn't time for now. He snatched his phone off the nightstand. He really wanted to talk to Ghiaccio so he opened his phone to text him but as he pressed the button, the screen remained dark.

He tried turning it on. Nothing happened.

"Fuck!" He turned and chucked his phone across the room and it hit the wall. He was too angry to check if it was in one piece so he stormed out. If it was as indestructible as Mista claimed, it would be fine when he got back. He walked out of the house and locked the door behind him. Everyone was already piled in the van and waiting.

"Took you long enough," said Mista as Fugo climbed in the back.

"Mista," Giorno said warningly as he shot him a look. Fugo couldn't stop himself as he smacked Mista upside the head knocking his hat askew. Mista turned and swat Fugo in the face. Fugo quickly retaliated trying to grab Mista and slammed him violently into the seat so that Mista smacked heads with Narancia.

"Fuck off you guys!" Narancia yelled.

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Abbacchio turned around from the passenger seat and barked. "You're goddammed gangsters and the Don's top men, act like it!" Giorno pulled Fugo away from Mista and pushed him down into the seat next to him. He gave him a look that made Fugo huff and turned to look out the window. Bucciarati glared through the rearview mirror.

"Are we going to have a problem? This event is too important for Giorno as the new Don of Passione and for the entire gang. Are you going to be able to handle yourself, Fugo?" Bucciarati asked and Fugo glared back. There was silence in the van as Fugo looked away again. "This isn't rhetorical. Do I need to leave you here?" The question was sharp and cutting.

"I'm fine!" Fugo snapped and continued to look out the window. The silence continued and Bucciarati started the car.

Fugo wasn't fond of all the people. This thing started at twelve but they had to be there early as the guests of honor. The place filled up quickly even though talks wouldn't begin with important leaders for another hour yet. This was the hour for mingling and drinking before Giorno would begin to conduct business with people and hear complaints from the districts. It was going to be a longer day for Fugo than in past years because now he would need to be involved in all the discussions. Last year, they were just another district. They had had their moment with the Don's liaison like everyone else since the Boss never made appearances.

This year was extra crowded. Since the coup had taken place, everyone wanted to meet the powerful child Don. Giorno's charisma alone was enough to sway most people to follow him despite his age. He was certainly mature, Fugo was too, but there were still moments every now and again that shone a light on how young Giorno really was. One of those occurrences was the incessant flirting he did with Mista. It particularly irked Fugo today more than it usually would have. It was awkward and embarrassing for him to witness since Mista was just so goddamned oblivious.

They stood before a giant glass window overlooking the ocean. Bucciarati and Abbacchio had stepped away to make sure everything was in order, but Mista and Narancia clamored on over the exquisite view. It was certainly impressive but it was the next few exchanges that quelched even this simple pleasure for Fugo.

"Man, what a view!" Mista said facing the window.

"Yeah, it sure is," Giorno mumbled looking at his ass. Fugo rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Giorno! Can we go to the beach one of these days?" Mista turned to him, eyes gleaming.

"Hey, yeah! I love the beach!" Narancia chimed in.

"It's a little cold right now for that…" Giorno said.

"But once it gets hotter, I mean. I got a new swimsuit and everything! This body is ready for the ladies!" Mista grinned at Narancia, and they high-fived. Fugo could practically see the fantasy playing behind Giorno's eyes. Oh my god, fucking hormones. He thought it was ridiculous the way people couldn't keep a level head once sexual attraction clouded their minds.

"Maybe once it's hotter. Then we can go...cool off together." Giorno lowered his lids as he said the words.

"Yeah! Beach party!" Mista said completely oblivious to the sultry tone in Giorno's reply. Giorno walked up close to Mista and touched his arm. Mista looked directly at Giorno's face.

"The bar just opened up," Giorno said running his hand up Mista's arm. Fugo looked at Narancia who looked wildly uncomfortable with the change in tone. He mumbled something about needing to ask Bucciarati something and slipped away. Fugo was about to do the same.

"Sweet! I'm gonna go check it out. You want anything?" He smiled at Giorno who smiled back sweetly.

"A glass of wine is fine, thank you, Guido." Giorno's voice dripped with honey sweetness. It was disgusting. He only used Mista's first name when he was really laying it on thick. Fugo couldn't roll his eyes into his skull any harder without going blind. It might be better that way so he wouldn't have to see this shit.

"You got it, Boss!" Mista said and turned to head for the alcohol. Giorno watched him go and Fugo groaned with frustration. Giorno's attention snapped to Fugo and he raised a brow at him.

"Problem?" Giorno asked and furrowed his brows. He really had the fucking audacity…?

"He's fucking straight, Giorno. Just give it up," Fugo snapped and Giorno flushed as his face contorted.

"I know that!" Giorno said indignantly.

"Then stop. It's fucking sickening to watch. Just fucking stop."

"There's nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting, Fugo," Giorno argued.

"First of all, it would be harmless if you did it to everyone, but you don't. It's only ever Mista. Second, it's not a little, it's all the damn time. You're fucking obsessed with him!" Fugo countered.

"I'm not obsessed!" Giorno snapped.

"You wanna dick him down so bad—oh my god—and everyone can see it but him. It's absolutely nauseating," Fugo declared.

"I—" Giorno said but he was so angry he couldn't formulate a proper retort and so settled instead on, "Shut up!" His voice shot up a few octaves. Yeah, real mature, Giorno.

"Yeah. Nice." Fugo said to the lame comeback. Giorno looked like he wanted to say something else but instead, he turned and stormed off. I just fucking can't today.

Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and violently flinched away from the contact. He didn't like being touched and that preference was being particularly aggravated today.

"Oi!" He saw Ghiaccio standing there looking annoyed but it was more likely confusion at Fugo's reaction.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't like being touched."

"You okay?" Ghiaccio asked. He both felt relieved to have him there but also annoyed at his asking. He just didn't want to talk about it. He felt like he was barely hanging on.

"What's it fucking look like?" Fugo snapped.

"Like your going through withdrawal real hard. I told you not to take two."

"Well, it felt better that way!" He just wanted everyone to fuck the hell off. He knew he shouldn't be taking this out on Ghiaccio, he was the one person that actually understood what he was going through.

"I tried texting you earlier," Ghiaccio offered, changing topics.

"Yeah, my goddammed phone is dead," Fugo fumed.

"That kinda day, huh?" Ghiaccio crossed his arms.

"You don't even fucking know," Fugo punctuated each word as he looked out the window again.

"So tell me about it," Ghiaccio said, but before he could say anything, Melone bounced over and flung himself around Ghiaccio's neck.

"I brought Illuso so you guys can clear the air," Melone sang. Fuck! Not Illuso. He didn't need this today.

"I don't want to talk to Illuso!" Fugo barked.

"Well, I can think of several things I'd rather do than talk to you either," Illuso seethed behind him and Fugo turned to him wide-eyed. Shit! Fuck! Illuso walked away clearly annoyed. Dammit! This wasn't happening today! Fugo huffed and walked off past Ghiaccio who stopped him.

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted shit to be chill between you guys?" Ghiaccio pressed.

"I can't talk right now," he hissed. His nerves frayed and seared with burning anxiety that caused him to shake.

"You have to eventually…" He heard Melone say somewhere behind him. He felt hands on his shoulders and breath far too close to his ear. "Everything will be okay."

The sultry tone. The heat next to his face. The electric passion of touch on his shoulder. Assurances. I'll be gentle. His stomach clenched and his nerves snapped. Anxiety exploded into purple fury behind his eyes.

He screamed and the haze overtook him.

Ghiaccio watched as Fugo's elbow connected violently with Melone's face.

"Fugo, what the fuck?!" Ghiaccio yelled as Melone reeled backward. As Fugo turned around, Purple Haze came out and screeched an unearthly howl.

"GHIACCIO! GET BACK!" Abbacchio hollered as people that could see the stand fled the immediate vicinity grabbing those that couldn't. Purple Haze lunged forward and punched Melone across the room.

"MELONE!" Ghiaccio screamed. A bulb on Purple Haze's fist cracked and purple gas spilled out of it. Melone writhed and screamed on the ground. "White Album!" Ghiaccio summoned the suit around his body and skated over to Melone just as Purple Haze attacked again. Ghiaccio took the next hit from Purple Haze and flew back. Another bulb cracked.

"GET EVERYONE OUT OF HERE, NOW!" Bucciarati yelled as he summoned Sticky Fingers and opened a zipper on the nearest wall for people to flee through. Risotto took off into the crowd and Mista pulled out his gun and ran towards the fight. Abbacchio ushered more people away from the area to create a wider berth from the growing virus in the air. Ghiaccio looked down at himself. He was fine. White Album was armor after all and not organic. That could give me the edge I need for a close fight. However, he knew his airhole would be a weakness here. I could breathe the virus in accidentally. He froze the air overtop the hole for protection.

Ghiaccio stood up and pulled together ice shards from frozen air molecules around him and sent them flying at Purple Haze who was reeling up for his next hit on Melone. The impact made Fugo scream in pain as blood spurted from the same spots as Purple Haze. He doubled over from the impact. The virus was spreading and Ghiaccio had to get Melone away from Fugo and into Giorno's care as soon as possible. Melone's skin was already bubbling from where he'd been hit. Ghiaccio raced over and crashed into Purple Haze sending him back a few paces, giving him enough space to pick up Melone and skate away.

Mista shot bullets at the stand to give Ghiaccio time to escape causing more screams from the crowd. With his final bullet, he shot over the heads of the crowd. Sex Pistols kicked it around the room until it hit the fire alarm, the blaring noise of which sent the last of the main hall that was unaware of the impending doom into a surge of panic. Ghiaccio slid to his skates to a halt in front of Giorno.

"Here, he's infected," Ghiaccio said as he handed Melone over to Giorno. "I'm going to stop Fugo."

"Be careful," Giorno said sternly as he pulled a vial from his pocket. Ghiaccio skated back, past Mista and stopped before Purple Haze. Metal shards flew from nowhere stabbing into Purple Haze. He roared and Ghiaccio turned to see Risotto and Prosciutto standing nearby, but just out of range.

"Don't hurt him!" Ghiaccio yelled.

"He's going to kill everyone if we don't stop him now," Risotto called as Prosciutto summoned Grateful Dead.

"I can handle this!" Ghiaccio threw his arms up and ice walls shot up from the ground effectively cutting them off. Purple Haze raged and flew forward to punch Ghiaccio again but he skated down through his legs and over to where Fugo was. However, the punch connected with the frozen wall, breaking yet another bulb on its fist.

"Fugue! Snap out of it!" Ghiaccio said as he pulled Fugo up from the ground. He had fallen after the earlier attacks from Risotto and was bleeding badly. Purple Haze was completely out of his control now. Ghiaccio turned back to the rogue stand.

"Gently Weeps!" The surrounding area dropped dramatically in temperature within the span of seconds. He needed to kill the virus so Fugo wouldn't be in danger. The air quickly dissipated as it died under the conditions. Ghiaccio placed Fugo back down on the ground behind him and faced Purple Haze. Ghiaccio then touched the ground and ice shot from his hand along the floor and onto the stand's legs making him effectively immobile. How do I get it to stop without hurting Fugo? Just then there was a flurry of rapid gunfire as a plane flew overhead. What the-?

It flew back around again and reigned hell from above down on Purple Haze.

"Ghiaccio!" He turned and saw through the ice wall that Narancia was there. "Don't worry about hurting Fugo! He told me if he ever gets out of control to stop him no matter what! Giorno will heal him of his wounds later but we have to stop Purple Haze now!"

Ghiaccio felt uneasy about it but nodded. Maybe a hard enough beatdown would de-summon the stand. He removed his hand from the spot on the ground releasing the ice encasing Purple Haze. He shot off like a dart, skating over to the roaring stand. He did a spin on the ice below him and sliced the stand with his skate causing it to stagger.

Next, his armor-encased fist connected with the stand causing more ice to creep up its body. Purple Haze was already much slower than it had been due to using Gently Weeps. However, the ability was quickly draining Ghiaccio. He would have to let it go soon but he needed to ensure that Purple Haze's hands were covered. A punch from Purple Haze caught him off guard as it smashed against his helmet, jarring him. It shook his focus enough that he let go of Gently Weeps as the fourth bulb ruptured.

Aerosmith came back through shooting more bullets.

"How many was that?" Narancia yelled.

"What?" He said in a daze.

"How many bulbs are broken?" Narancia asked.

"Uh, four."

"He only has two more that he can use. Make him break those and then he won't be dangerous anymore!" Ghiaccio looked at Purple Haze's hands to see one bulb left intact on both hands.

"Okay, White Album Gently Weeps!" Purple Haze slowed and Ghiaccio slammed his fist down on one of his hands shattering the fifth bulb. The virus died as soon as it was released. "One more!"

A bullet rang out and ricocheted around the walls of ice and finally, at the help of Sex Pistols, hit its target, cracking the last bulb open. Ghiaccio watched as the last of the virus seeped out and dissipated upon contact with the cold. Ghiaccio finally released his stand and the room returned to normal temperature, the ice walls vanishing from around them. Ghiaccio collapsed to his knees from the effort. He was so tired.

"Gold Experience Requiem!" Giorno's stand flew out and began punching Purple Haze several times over until it faded. "It's over."

Now that it had been declared safe, Giorno de-summoned Requiem and ran over to Fugo. Ghiaccio felt so weak but suddenly felt arms wrapping around him.

"Thank you, Ghiaccio. I'd have died if it weren't for you," Melone said as he helped Ghiaccio to his feet. He looked over and saw Giorno healing Fugo but he'd already passed out from all the blood loss. Bucciarati walked over and picked up Fugo into his arms.

"We have to take him home, you guys need to stay. This event is too important to cancel. Let everyone know the threat has been neutralized and give them time to recover," Bucciarati ordered. "The talks must go on."

"No," Risotto said as he approached them. "They need you and Giorno here to do all that. We'll take him back to base. You don't need us here."

"I'll take him," Ghiaccio interjected.

"You can't drive like this, Ghiaccio," Melone said.

"That's why you're going to," Ghiaccio replied.

"Fine. Then it's settled." Bucciarati handed Fugo off to Risotto and gestured to the rest of his gang. "We need to do some damage control."