It wasn't fair, Narancia decided.

Just because he had the bestest Stand for watching the area didn't mean that he should have to it the whole time, and it made him sleepy when he had Aerosmith out for too long, but all Fugo cared about was that he'd forgotten for one teensy tiny little second to keep watch.

Okay, maybe it was longer than that, but still! No one was there! Giorno and Mista had checked the house while he and Fugo stayed with Trish. The whole time, he'd busied himself with the very important task of avoiding meeting Fugo's icy glare that he was pretty sure would drill a hole into his skull sooner or later. And it didn't make sense why anyone would attack them now because if they knew where they were, then they woulda done something while they were sleeping, right? Narancia wasn't that dumb, he'd at least sort of processed that it was probably safe or he wouldn't have unconsciously released Aerosmith.

Fugo didn't wanna hear any of that though; instead, he just yelled at Narancia for nearly half an hour straight and Narancia was convinced that his ears were bleeding and the only reason the others couldn't tell was because he'd pulled his bandana done over his ears to muffle Fugo. And it wasn't like he wanted to hurt Trish either! He really didn't like that Fugo kept bringing it back to that every other sentence.

At one point he'd almost yelled at the blond that he'd abandoned Trish once already so what did he care if Narancia forgot his watch but he managed to not do that at the last second. He was mad at Fugo for being so unfair but he didn't wanna make his friend sad. Just wanted to yell at him back a little.

So he did and they both screamed at each other until Fugo had reached for a kitchen knife and Narancia had grabbed his switchblade and that was when Giorno, who'd stayed behind to 'mediate' after Mista dragged Trish somewhere else away from them, decided he'd had enough and made them both stop before Naracia kicked Fugo's ass because really, Fugo could never beat him in a knife fight, Narancia was too good for that.

"Both of you, just calm down," Giorno had said exasperatedly, massaging his temple with one hand as he rested the other on his hip. "Screaming will not change what happened. No one's hurt and no one's here but us, so let's just let it go, okay?"

"Like hell I will!" Fugo all but shrieked. "Bucciarati left me in charge and-"

"Exactly, Fugo. I don't mean to butt in but with all due respect, Bucciarati made me your second, and as your advisor, I suggest you reign in your temper a bit. Screaming won't help anything, you know better than that."

Fugo looked successfully abashed and finally set the knife down with a heavy sigh as he muttered that he was going to the kitchen to get a drink of water and cool his head. Narancia stuck his tongue out at the boy's retreating back, deciding he'd have to get back at him more later.

Until Giorno turned to him and chewed him out as well.

Somehow it was worse when Giorno did it than with Fugo because Giorno was a really calm, serious guy and he was really mature and Narancia admired that so when he got mad, he did it quietly and calmly for the most part and that reminded him of Bucciarati. A lot.

"I'm sorry," he said, a pitiful expression on his face. "I didn't mean to, honest! I just dropped my guard a little! I won't do it again, don't be angry, Giorno."

"I'm not angry, Narancia-" uh oh, he'd heard this before, he knew where it was going; "-Just disappointed."

"Nooooo that's even worse!" he whined, grabbing Giorno's arm tightly as he looked up pleadingly at the blond (why was it that everyone was taller than him when he was older, totally unfair). "Giorno, I'm sorry! Really!"

"I know," the blond soothed and Narancia was secretly pleased that he dropped his frustration so quickly and could move on because a certain someone never did! "But maybe you should try telling Fugo that. Instead of yelling back at him."

Ugh. Of course he brought up the exact someone Narancia was directing his ire at.

He frowned, puffing out his cheeks in a pout as he spun around and crossed his arms over his chest. Flopping down onto the couch without looking at Giorno, he huffed, "Only if he apologizes first! He didn't have to be so mad!"

Narancia could hear Giorno sigh behind him and figured the blond was probably rolling his eyes, but a few moments later, the couch shifted next to him and Giorno was beside him with a hand resting on his shoulder.

"Narancia, it takes a very big person to admit their mistakes, and an even bigger one to apologize first. I'm sure you know that though, as the older one between the two of you."

"I know what you're trying to do," he said grudgingly.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"You're playing the age card so I go make up with Fugo." Narancia rolled his eyes. He may be dumb but he wasn't stupid! He knew when someone was trying to trick him! "You're using, uh, backwards physiology!"

Giorno stifled a laugh as he asked, "Do you mean reverse psychology?"

"Yeah, that!"

"And is it working?"

Narancia scowled even further because it was, dammit! Because he knew Giorno was right and that Fugo was angry and that he hated it when he and Fugo fought even though it happened nearly every other day. Not because of the weird logic thing Giorno tried to use, but because of the actual logic he was saying. And because Narancia felt guilty.

"No!" he answered indignantly even as he stood up to go down the hallway. Giorno was smirking and even though it pissed him off, Narancia thought it was nice to see Giorno looking happy for once. Although he seemed to look like that more now that he was hanging around Mista. Narancia thought that made sense; Mista was a lot of fun to be around.

He was about to go to the kitchen when Mista nearly barreled into him as he rushed down the staircase, yelling about some new spa thing they could do that Trish told him about and Narancia thought that was awfully girly of them but Trish was a girl and maybe Mista took that comment about his smell to heart. Plus playing with each other's hair sounded fun and he had wanted to mess with Giorno's for a while and quickly followed them upstairs, his previous task forgotten.

The next hour was spent messing around with the stuff that Trish brought with her. Fugo joined them at some point, while Narancia was getting his nails done, and he made sure to point at Aerosmith's visor with a scowl as Trish yelled at him to not move. She painted all their nails (Narancia's were this really bright purple with little orange tips and he really liked them a lot) and told them gossip stories about her friends and Narancia found he was very invested in whether or not her friend Giulia would go back to Lorenzo or stay with that French exchange student Raphael after she found out that their mortal enemy, that slut Camilla (Trish's words, not his) was after Lorenzo now. This was as exciting as those soap operas that Abbacchio would watch when he thought he wouldn't get caught! Plus Trish looked really happy when she talked about them and he hoped that she'd get to go back and see them all again once this was over.

By the time Giorno said that they needed to get their clothes back on because Bucciarati and Abbacchio would be back soon, it was nearing evening and they all had manicures, fancy hairstyles, and smooth skin from Trish's homemade facials to show for it.

It felt nice to be back in his clothes, which were mostly dry but still maybe just the tiniest bit damp in some places, but that was okay with him. They smelled good now, like citrus detergent and warm sunshine and it made him feel good.

No sooner had they all re-dressed than the capo returned to the safehouse, arms full with bags of supplies. Abbacchio wasn't far behind him, holding some stuff as well. One of the packages, he noted, contained what was likely pizza crust and Narancia could barely contain his excitement.

His giddiness disappeared however, as Bucciarati set everything down on the countertops in the kitchen before he turned to address Fugo.

"Did anything happen while we were gone?"

Narancia felt his blood run cold. Bucciarati wouldn't be that mad, just a little, but he would be really disappointed and Narancia would have to deal with that look that he got that made him feel worse than shit and who knows when Bucciarati would forgive him and-

"Nothing really."

Wait, what? He stared at Fugo in shock, barely believing what his ears were hearing. Did- did he really just say that? But that wasn't true, Narancia almost=

"As you can see, we had a spa day," Fugo added nonchalantly, holding out his nails for Bucciarati to inspect while Abbacchio scoffed in annoyance even though everyone knew he was just jealous. "And killed the time with some card games. Everything went fine."

"I see." Bucciarati believed it, and he had no reason not to, Narancia realized, as he admired Fugo's manicure. "I'm glad you all had a nice time and were able to relax. Perhaps later you would do mine for me as well, Trish?"

The pink-haired girl flushed bright red as she stammered out a quick 'yes, of course' and Narancia wondered what that was about but then he remembered he had more important things to deal with.

Fugo was staring carefully at him, his eyes a mix of emotions that Narancia could barely recognize and he knew what he needed to do.

"Fugo!" he called, louder than necessary as he bounded over to the blond and latched onto his arm. "Now that they're back, let's go on a walk! I got stuff to tell you!"

He could see Giorno and Mista exchange a look and he pushed down the urge to get embarrassed as Bucciarati considered his prospect.

"As long as you return within an hour, I see no reason why you can't. Be on your guard and don't get separated though, alright? If either of you get lost in those woods…"

He didn't need to finish; they both knew that there wasn't time to look for any stragglers when they would have to leave. And they had plans for leaving tomorrow around noon.

Narancia didn't give Fugo any time to voice any complaints he might have had, just held on tight to his arm and proceeded to drag him from the house and towards that little walking path he'd noticed earlier that he'd wanted to go see anyways.

"…I'm not going to run off," Fugo muttered as they walked beneath the canopy of oak trees and flowering cherry laurels, the air smelling of the sea and spring flowers. "So you can let go already."

Narancia frowned but did anyways, only to grab his hand instead and squeeze it as he entwined their fingers. "There! This is fine, right?"

Fugo rolled his eyes but he didn't say anything and Narancia saw the pink color dusting his cheeks despite the shade of the trees and decided that no answer was as good as saying yes.

"Um…" he began, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry, Fugo. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you back."

Looking at him in shock, Fugo remained silent, apparently lost for words.

Narancia huffed: "I don't know why you're so surprised, I say sorry all the time. Plus I'm the one who fucked up in the first place, so I owe it. It's not that weird, is it?"

"No, it's just- well, I guess I wasn't expecting you to apologize so quick. I thought I'd be the first one to do it, like-"

"Like all the other times we've fought?"

"Yeah." At least Fugo had the decency to look kind of ashamed when admitting that's what he thought. Not that he was wrong so Narancia didn't really know why he felt bad about it.

"Well y'know Fugo, I figured that as the older one, I need to set a good example for you and Giorno! And Trish too! So I decided to be the bigger man this time."

"That so?" Fugo answered with a roll of his eyes but the typical fondness he wore when he and Narancia hung out was back. "I guess I'm sorry too. Not for being angry with you, but I could've been a little nicer about yelling at you. Or yelled less in general."

"Nah, it's fine, if you didn't start screaming, I'd be scared for your sanity! I'd think an enemy Stand was impersonating you or something!"

"Hey! I am not that bad!"

"You kind of are, dude," Narancia snickered as Fugo flushed red, about to say something back when something caught Narancia's attention.

His visor had blips on it. Ones that weren't theirs.

Before Fugo could say anything, Narancia had slapped his hand over his friend's mouth and gestured to his Stand's visor. This was bad; they were in the middle of strange woods but still far too close to the safehouse to feasibly consider just running. No, they'd have to stay and fight.

"Could it be animals?" Fugo hissed, but Narancia shook his head.

"It's too big to be any kind of animal; I excluded them from Aerosmith's range already. But it also seems smaller than a normal human for some reason." He watched as the two blips drew closer, rustling noises in the bushes some twenty yards away drawing their gazes. Narancia narrowed his eyes, Aerosmith's motor roaring overheard as it approached. "Let's-"

There was a sharp whistling noise and something flew through the air, straight at Fugo.

"Look out!"

Narancia acted before he thought, leaping up and crashing into Fugo, throwing himself and the blond to the ground as something soared over their heads to thud against a tree trunk just a small ways behind them.

Jerking his head up, Narancia prepared his Stand for an attack as the bushes rustled and out from them emerged-

A little kid?

A small tanned boy with sandy blond hair freckles was staring at them in confusion, the remnants of an apology on his lips and a baseball glove in one hand. A baseball glove. And rolling towards them from the tree trunk it hit was a dirty baseball with one of the red seams tearing at the end.

"Um… I-I didn't see anything!" the kid cried quickly just as another boy stepped through the bushes, this one even shorter than the other but with the same coloring to him. "Gah, Benito, d-don't look!"

The kid slapped his hand over the boy's eyes as Narancia finally realized what the hell he was talking about.

He had leapt on top of Fugo to push him out of the way, and that had ended with Fugo lying with his back on the ground, one arm pinned beneath him and the other above his head, Narancia's hands on either side of the blond's head propping himself up, positioned awkwardly on Fugo's lap with one knee between Fugo's legs. Narancia suddenly had flashbacks to Giorno and Mista as he jerked away and off of Fugo.

"N-No, no!" he yelled frantically, face burning from embarrassment. "It's not what it looks like!"

Fugo sat up as Narancia tried to explain, rubbing the back of his head that had smacked the ground as he eyed the two children suspiciously.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked softly, tone icily vicious as the two little boys stiffened in fear at his words.

"N-Nothing, signor, we were j-just playing," the older one stuttered, pushing the smaller one behind him nervously.

"Fugo, you're scaring them!" Narancia scolded, eyeing the gloves both boys wore as he picked up the baseball and held it out to them. "Sorry about my friend, he's just an angry guy."

"They could be the enemy!" Fugo hissed under his breath.

"They're kids; there's no way, Fugo. Besides, I'm just giving them back their ball."

When neither of the children stepped forward, Narancia added loud enough for them to both hear, "We're not gonna do anything, don't worry."

The taller one swallowed before walking nervously up to Narancia, taking the baseball carefully from his outstretched hand.

"I played baseball when I was little too, y'know!" Narancia said happily. "But ya gotta watch where you throw that ball, bambino!"

"I'm not a kid," he said indignantly. "My name is Bartolomeo, not bambino!"

"Bambi then," Narancia grinned, kneeling down. He could hear Fugo groaning behind him but he didn't really care; Narancia had always liked kids and had always wanted a little brother and they were just kids, there was no way they could be Stand users! "You're a pretty good big brother, huh, protecting your little bro like that!"

The boy seemed to puff out with pride as he proclaimed, "You bet I am! I'm teaching Benito baseball so he can play with me when he starts primary school this fall! He's not very good though."

"That's not true, fratello, I'm really good! I even caught all your pitches, remember?"

"You're right, how could I forget," Bartolomeo replied, grinning as he patted his little brother's head. "Just not as good as me yet!"

Narancia grinned. "Are you two from around here?"

"We live in Maristella," the older brother said, "But we're camping here in the park for a few days to practice our skills we learned in scouts!"

"The Italian Scout Federation," Fugo observed, finally deciding to quit moping around and go join the conversation. "I wanted to join as well when I was about your age but my parents didn't allow me to."

"Really? Well, I could teach you!" Bartolomeo exclaimed excitedly. "It'd be so much fun, signor!"

Narancia giggled as he reached out to ruffle the boy's blond hair. "We can't little dude, we gotta be getting back to our own group. It's its own little version of a scouts troupe!"

The little boy looked disappointed but quickly shook it off when his little brother grabbed his hand and said, "Fratello, we still need to put up our tents."

"Oh! You're right Beni, thanks!" The boy turned back to grin at Fugo and Narancia as he said, "It was nice to meet you, signores! Thank you for getting my ball! Come on Benito, I'll race you back to the campsite!"

With that, the two little boys disappeared into the bushes again, their footsteps quickly fading from earshot as Fugo and Narancia were left to their own devices once again. Narancia was still smiling as he stared at where they'd run off.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have siblings?" he sighed dreamily. "I always wanted to be a big brother, y'know. I'd get to play with them and never be alone and be responsible for them and teach them everything!"

"Hopefully not math," Fugo scoffed. "Or you'd both be doomed to idiocy forever."

"Fine, maybe not that," Narancia grumbled as the pair began to walk back towards the safehouse. It was little moments like this that put it all in perspective, Narancia thought. That life was going on like normal for so many people but for them, they didn't know if they'd even survive to the next day. None of them had a normal family like that, after all. It wasn't really something you could have after joining the mafia.

He felt warmth and looked down to see that Fugo had entwined their fingers together, holding Narancia's hand surprisingly gently. Avoiding the brunet's gaze, Fugo murmured, "Our own normal is just as normal as theirs. It's just different. And so is our family. So don't feel down."

Narancia watched Fugo for a few seconds before a grin split across his face. "Aw, were you worried about me? That's so cute, I love you, Fugo!"

"Dumbass," the blond muttered back, but the squeeze he received in return gave Narancia the answer Fugo left unsaid.