Chapter Four
Giorno glanced toward the house as Mista pulled into the driveway. There were copious flowers blooming in the front, and it looked overall inviting. Not like the dark, dirty doorsteps he was used to coming home to.
"Come on, let's go grab a snack, then we can hang out," Mista told them.
Giorno and Trish trailed behind on the way to the door. Once they got inside though…
"Narancia!"
Narancia was bombarded by two small figures who each grabbed one of his legs, holding on for dear life.
"You're the hero! You have to save us from the monster!" one squeaked as the other pointed toward the presumed living room where a giant mountain of pillows had been placed in the center of the room.
"Aw man, that looks terrifying! Don't worry, I got this!"
"No, don't, it will eat you!" another voice shirked as a dark head peeked out of the living room and another figure flung itself toward the pillows with a plastic sword, collapsing into them before rolling off behind the pile.
"It got him!" one of the small figures attached to Narancia's leg shouted. "You have to go now, Sir Narancia or the whole kingdom will be taken over!"
"Come on!" Giorno was surprised to feel something tugging on his hand and looked down to see another small, dark-haired figure grabbing both his and Trish's hands. "You two can be the king and queen."
"Yeah, you'll have to reward Sir Narancia for his bravery—if he survives!"
"Hey, just a minute, okay?" Mista cut in, leaving the kids to Narancia to usher Trish and Giorno down the hall. "Let them at least put their backpacks down."
Trish smiled. "They're adorable."
Mista laughed. "Yeah, I guess. That's why we keep them," he teased. "If you need to call your parents or whatever, the phone's in the hall right over there."
Trish nodded and hurried to do so while Giorno continued to follow Mista into a large dining room with a well-worn table. He set his backpack onto one of the chairs and looked around. There were pictures all over the walls, happy family photos. The house just felt loved and lived in. It looked so…normal. Which made it seem like it wasn't real.
"Guido, did I hear you come in?"
A middle-aged woman, with a comfortable figure came into the room wiping her hands on a towel.
"Hey mama," Mista said, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. "I brought a couple friends home. This is Giorno and Trish," he motioned to them in turn as Trish came into the room. "They both just moved to town. Narancia's been showing them around at school."
"Ah, welcome to Napoli!" the woman said warmly and without a second thought pulled them each in for a hug. It was the most comfortable second of Giorno's life.
"My, you're both so skinny," she practically mourned, cupping Giorno's cheek as she pulled away. "I'll have to do something about that."
Narancia darted in, still with his small entourage in tow and opened his arms to the woman. "Hey, Mama Mista!" he grinned and hugged her.
"There's my little vagabond," the woman said fondly, ruffling his hair. "I'll get you something to eat if you promise to do your homework first."
Narancia sighed. "We will, promise."
The signora turned to the children still trailing around. "Go, let the big kids work. They'll play with you later."
"Okay!" They ran off and Mista started to unzip his backpack.
"Alright, let me know if you guys need any help."
Giorno sat and worked steadily, finding it somehow comforting to work in the silent companionship of the others. He also listened eagerly whenever Trish explained a math problem to Narancia. He could usually figure them out himself, but it took a lot longer than the way Trish explained it.
They all finished in record time and then roughhoused with Mista's younger siblings who ranged from twelve to four in age. Mista explained laughingly that he was the outlier. But Giorno could tell he really liked being a big brother.
Two of the kids were called away to set the table and Mista started grabbing the pillows.
"Okay, the monster has finally been defeated! It's time to clean up the kingdom!"
Once the living room was back to some sort of semblance, the kids were distracted by the door opening, which hailed the return of Signore Mista, who was enveloped the minute he walked in the door.
"Papa!"
"There's my bambinos!" he said happily.
"Just in time for dinner," his wife said as she ducked in for a kiss. "Everyone get to the table before it gets cold!"
The whole house smelled amazing and Giorno couldn't help his mouth salivating as he looked at the plates of pasta and fresh vegetables, homemade bread…he wasn't sure he'd ever eaten this good, not even at his mother's wedding.
"Are these new faces at the table?" Mista's father asked, glancing kindly in his direction.
"This is Trish and Giorno," Mista introduced.
"Well, welcome to the family," he said kindly, with a grand gesture. "Be prepared to eat at least three servings." He leaned in and whispered. "Though, if I were you, I would save room for dessert."
"They're growing children, they'll find room for dessert," Signora Mista said as she came in to set a final dish on the table.
Giorno soon found his plate filled with large portions of everything and he ate until he was full and then continued to eat whatever Signora Mista put on his plate. He was sure he had never tasted anything so good, and the fact that it was wrapped in the warmth of happy, familiar conversation and laughter seemed to make it taste even better.
And when that was done and he thought he couldn't possibly eat another bite, there was dessert, and he couldn't resist.
When they were done, Giorno and Trish helped clean up in the kitchen until Narancia dragged them away.
"Come on, Mista's setting up the game!" he said.
Giorno glanced tentatively toward the mostly cleaned pile of dishes and Signora Mista shooed him out. "Go on, I've got the rest of this."
Narancia shoved them toward the back of the house where a well-used den resided. Mista was setting up a gaming system to the audience of several of his younger siblings.
"Alright, let's get this party started!" he said, handing out controllers. "Either of you played Smash Bros before?"
"I've never actually played anything like this before," Giorno told him cautiously as he took the controller in his hand. He certainly had never had a gaming system and he'd never been invited to anyone's house who had either.
"It's not too hard, you'll figure it out," Mista promised.
Giorno did figure it out after a little trial and error that he had to laugh along with, and eventually he even won a couple rounds.
But it was getting late, as Trish reminded them when she looked at the clock.
"Crap, I need to get home," she said.
Giorno agreed reluctantly and they went to grab their stuff.
"Thank you so much!" Trish called to Mista's mother who came out to envelope both of them in another warm hug.
"Everything was delicious, thank you," Giorno agreed. There was no way he could express how much the evening had really meant to him. He wished he didn't have to leave.
"Come back any time," she told them. "Are you okay walking home?"
"Neither of us have too far to go," Trish promised her.
They started off into the cool night, and Trish sighed happily. "Mista's family is so nice," she said with a smile. "It would be fun to have a bunch of siblings to keep you company, don't you think?"
Giorno glanced up at the stars. "I don't know. I never really thought about it."
Trish held up a loosely clenched fist. "Only child team." Giorno lightly knocked his knuckles against hers with a smile.
They got to the street Trish lived down and she split off, waving goodbye. "See you tomorrow," she told him.
Giorno waved back and continued on into the seedier portion of the neighborhood. He didn't make any eye contact with the figures he saw out of the corners of his eyes, simply continuing on his way until he made it to the dark doorstep of his home.
He dug his key out of his backpack and unlocked the door to slip inside.
His stepfather was snoring, passed out on the couch and Giorno hadn't seen the car out front so it was probable his mother wasn't even home.
He snuck up the stairs to his bedroom and quickly dressed for bed, slipping under the thin covers as he stared past the curtains of his window, seeing the moon shining, half full, into his window and across the floor boards. His mind was full of the warm feeling of Mista's house still, and it worked to lull him to sleep quicker than usual.
He wished he'd never had to come home.
"Dude, am I going to do all the work on this?"
Fugo glanced up sharply at Mista, his pencil hovering over his notebook where he had been writing before his mind had switched again to other things. It was doing that a lot lately. It didn't help that they were in the school library, a place where…where he frequented. Fugo shouldn't have agreed to meet here but it was the most convenient for research. Even if he was constantly searching, waiting for the feeling of eyes to land on him.
"Of course not," Fugo replied.
Mista sighed and closed the book he was reading, leaning over the table they were sitting at. "Look man, we've all noticed, okay. Maybe it would help to tell someone what's going on. It doesn't have to be me, but—"
"Nothing's going on!" Fugo snapped, hand clenching around the pencil in his hand. "I'm just tired. I keep telling everyone that, but none of you believe me!"
Mista ran a hand over his face. "Okay, look I get it. But…maybe ease off? You're still graduating two years early, man. Seriously, you don't want to burn out before you're twenty!"
"It's not about that!" Fugo snapped, then clenched his teeth. "Look, let's just finish this project, okay? I want to be done with it."
Mista shrugged. "Yeah, okay."
Fugo grabbed the papers Mista had placed between them, trying to focus as he looked them over, seeing just how much work his friend had already done and feeling guilty. "Look, you've got most of it done, let me finish it up tonight."
"Fugo, come on, we're supposed to work on it together. That's the whole point of a group project. Why don't you just come spend the night and we can work on it together?"
"No," Fugo said firmly. He didn't want to be caught alone with Mista who would inevitably try to probe the information out of him. He glanced toward the clock. Pisani would usually be leaving his classroom at this time of day, and sometimes he would stop by the library to grab some books for research. Fugo really didn't want to have an encounter with him today. He tried not to sound too harried as he said, "Fine, I'll come over to your place tomorrow after school and we can work on it then, all right? We'll finish it up. But I actually have to go right now."
He started shoving all his things into his backpack as Mista gave him an incredulous look.
"Seriously? Fugo…"
But Fugo was already leaving, heading toward the offices. There was only one more thing he could try. It wouldn't be a perfect fix, but it would at least limit his time alone with Pisani.
He knocked on the office door and was told to come in.
"Ah, Signore Fugo, what can I do for you?" the principal asked.
Fugo wet his lips. "Signore Polpo, I was wondering if I could end my volunteer work with Signore Pisani."
The big man looked at him across the desk, folding his hands in front of him. "Well, you can end the program at any time, but I will warn you, it won't look good on your university applications to say that you stopped the program within the first month."
Fugo felt his heart beat in his chest. "I…I understand, but perhaps I can switch to another class? I'm already volunteering for Signora Bonucci and Signore Rossi as well, maybe—"
"But Signore Pisani speaks so highly of you," Polpo said. "I do believe you are a great help to him. Personally, I would advise against leaving the position unless there's some reason you really feel you need to do so."
Fugo suddenly deflated. This had been his last resort, and it had gone just about as well as he had expected. He was insanely glad he hadn't bothered to try to explain his reasoning.
"No, I don't," he said quietly. "Never mind, Signore."
Polpo gave him a slightly sympathetic look. "If you need help prioritizing everything, you can go to the councilor. I'm sure she would be able to help."
"No, it's all right," Fugo gritted out. "Thank you."
He left the office and retreated from the school. Signore Pisani was getting into his car in the parking lot and he called to Fugo who pretended not to hear him. He just kept walking.
As usual, it seemed like he was going to have to figure this out alone.
The next day, Bruno, Leone, Risotto and Prosciutto met in the school library to finish up their project. They were almost done and Bruno would be happy to turn it in the next day.
He was just checking over information, cross-checking it with Prosciutto as Mista came in, a furrow in his brows.
"Hey, have any of you seen Fugo?" he asked.
"He was doing his aide shit this afternoon," Leone said.
"Okay, I don't see why he didn't mention that to me yesterday then," Mista grumbled slumping down at their table.
"What's wrong?" Bruno asked, a bit of unease welling in his stomach like it always did these days when he thought about Fugo.
"What's wrong is we've hardly worked on the project and we only have two days left to turn it in now. He keeps blowing me off."
"I thought you were working on it yesterday?"
"We were, for like half an hour, but he was just distracted the whole time, and then when I tried to talk to him, he said he needed to leave and we would get together today but he didn't meet me after the bell rang like he was supposed to."
"Maybe he just forgot," Risotto suggested.
"Fugo doesn't forget assignments," Mista protested. "I'm serious, something is going on with him."
"I know," Bruno said quickly.
"Have you tried talking to him?" Prosciutto asked.
"Every time someone brings it up to him he just gets pissed," Mista said.
"I think he's under pressure from his parents, but I don't know," Bruno said quietly. "I can't help but feel there's something else going on."
"Can we help you with your project then?" Risotto asked Mista. "We're just editing ours."
"Nah, I got it," Mista muttered. "It's not so much being left to do the project alone that's bothering me, it's the fact that Fugo should be the one insisting he do most of the work and he couldn't seem to care less."
Bruno chewed the cap of his pen absently. "I'll try to talk to him again. Maybe I'll invite him over this weekend."
Mista nodded and pulled out his books as they all went back to working.
Fugo was grateful that it was his day to help Signora Bonucci. They would always work in silence in the teacher's lounge, and then she would thank Fugo when he had finished and let him go on his way.
Which is exactly what he did, heading out of the empty school hallway and into the afternoon sun.
"Ah, Fugo, there you are."
Fugo froze and turned to see Signore Pisani hurrying toward him. There would be no pretending he didn't hear him this time, so he turned to face the man who he hadn't seen since the coffee incident.
"I wanted to ask how your back was," the man said with concern in his eyes. "I hope you got it properly treated."
"It's fine," Fugo said tersely.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," the teacher said. "Also, I didn't want you to lose such a nice shirt so I did bring this home and got it cleaned up." He reached into his bag and pulled out Fugo's shirt almost reverently, folded too neatly. Fugo had to force himself to reach out and take it.
"You didn't have to do that," he managed to choke out.
"It was no trouble, really," the man said and stepped closer, putting a hand on Fugo's shoulder, making his skin crawl. "Let me know if I can ever do anything for you." Leaning impossibly closer. "You know you can come to me with anything."
Fugo slipped away from his touch, fists clenching in the shirt. "Thank you," he managed. "I need to go now."
He walked around the side of the school and felt the man's eyes boring into his back for a long moment. He finally glanced back and was grateful to see Pisani getting into his car.
Fugo quickly ducked to the nearest trashcan and threw the shirt away forcibly, hands trembling. He couldn't imagine the thought of wearing it again, not after picturing Pisani fishing it from the trash can, taking it home—folding it like it held some reverence…
"Hey, Fugo, there you are."
Fugo whipped his head around sharply to see Bruno and Leone walking out to the parking lot.
"You know Mista's looking for you, right?" Leone added.
Shit, Fugo had totally forgotten about the project. Again. All he had been thinking of was that he had one more day before he would have to work with Pisani again.
"I—I'll call him later with my notes. I just…I really have to go right now," he said.
"Panna, wait a second, please," Bruno said.
"I'm sorry," Fugo replied firmly and started to turn away.
"Hold on," Leone said, stepping forward, reaching out. His hand just barely touched Fugo's shoulder, but for some reason that set off his fight of flight instinct and he reached up to slap the goth's hand away.
"Don't touch me!" he shouted.
Leone pulled back in shock, his hands held up. "Alright, shit, I'm not gonna touch you. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine, I'm fucking fine! How many times do I have to tell you that?" Fugo raged, fists clenching. "I swear the next person who asked me if I'm fine is gonna get a fist in the face!"
"Panna, we're just worried," Bruno nearly pleaded. "You haven't been acting like yourself."
"Yeah, well, maybe this is just the new me, and you should get used to that," Fugo snapped back. "Now please, just leave me alone."
He didn't give them the chance to stop him again and simply turned around, hurrying away. He couldn't tell them. He couldn't. He was probably just imagining things anyway. Stress did that, right?
Fugo got home, and was greeted by the firm stare of his mother as soon as he walked in the door.
"Is something the matter?" he asked emotionlessly.
"Your principal called this morning and asked if he should let you out of the teacher's aide program. Is there something you want to tell me, Pannacotta?"
"No," Fugo said wearily. "It was just a misunderstanding."
"Good. I would hate to think that you weren't doing your best," his mother said. "And remember, everything you do or say will show up on your record. And you want to keep that as clean as possible. Understand?"
"I understand," Fugo muttered. "I—I have homework," he added as an excuse to leave.
Indeed how foolish he had been to think that anyone would have listened to anything he had to say.
Pushing those thoughts away, he pulled out his notebook and got to work.
Bruno couldn't help but think about Fugo's outburst for the rest of the day. He must have been especially quiet at dinner because even his father noticed and they were used to companionable silence.
"Is something going on?" Paolo asked, quiet concern in his voice.
Bruno pushed some pasta around on his plate. "I'm just worried about Fugo. I think something's going on with him but whenever I try to talk to him he just…refuses to talk and pretty much runs away."
Paolo's eyes furrowed. "He is a pretty quiet kid. Used to keeping to himself. You have to remember he wasn't raised in an environment where it was okay to express yourself through emotions."
"I know," Bruno said. "But he's always been different with us. Now…" He sighed. "I guess I'm just worried that whatever it is will escalate before he asks for help."
"In that case, the only thing you can do is be there for him when he needs you."
Bruno nodded. "Thanks, Papa."
The next day at school, Bruno only saw Fugo briefly in their shared classes, but he seemed to be avoiding all of them. Mista was giving Bruno odd looks from across the room but he didn't find out why until they all assembled at lunch—Fugo noticeably absent.
"Okay, today's order of business," Narancia said quickly once they were all there. "What the hell is going on with Fugo?"
Leone clicked his tongue. "You don't have to put it so bluntly."
"It's what we're all thinking," Narancia protested then turned to Mista. "Tell them."
Bruno glanced over as Mista raised a hand to play with his beanie, tugging it further back on his head. "The second I got here today, Fugo shows up, hands me our completed project like it's nothing, and then heads to class."
"Seriously?" Trish asked.
"I guess he felt bad for not getting together yesterday?" Mista suggested with a shrug. "All we did was talk briefly on the phone last night about what I had gotten done and then he told me not to worry about it."
"Bruno and I tried to talk to him again yesterday but he sort of…freaked out," Leone said.
"Like how?" Narancia asked.
"Well, I just reached out to grab his arm to, I don't know, stop him from walking away, and he practically screamed at me not to touch him."
"Well, Fugo's not exactly touchy-feely," Mista pointed out.
"Yeah, but he tolerates us, he'd never freak out like that," Narancia added worriedly. "Did you startle him or something?"
"I don't know," Leone said, picking at some chipped black polish on his thumb. "This whole thing has just weirded me out. I don't know if he's having some kind of stress-induced episode or something, but I'm worried."
"Do you think you could go talk to the counselor or the nurse, at least get some advice?" Trish suggested.
"Fugo would murder us if he found out about that," Narancia said.
"Besides," Bruno added with a sigh. "If we talked to anyone at the school they'd call his parents even if we stressed that that could be the problem, and I know Fugo wouldn't want that. He doesn't want them to see any kind of weakness in him."
"Well, what do we do then?" Narancia asked helplessly.
"Keep an eye on him," Bruno said with a shrug. "It's the only thing we can do. Maybe he'll be better after some rest this weekend."
When school ended for the day, Bruno was unlocking his bike to ride home when he heard someone come up behind him.
"Bruno?"
He glanced up to see Giorno standing there, clutching his backpack straps, looking slightly nervous. He stood up.
"What is it?" he asked.
Giorno shifted slightly, looking around before he stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I didn't want to say anything in front of the others. I know I don't know Fugo very well, but…" He bit his lip. "Do you…know a lot about this home life?"
Bruno furrowed his brows. "Well, not as much as I do the others. Fugo doesn't like to invite us to his place. His parents…they're pretty rich and influential. They don't really like him to have friends like us over so he usually prefers to come over to our places instead. I don't think he has a great relationship with his parents."
Giorno's fingers twisted further in his backpack straps and he looked down at his shoes. "The reason I ask is because, well, what Leone said, about how he reacted…is it possible he could be suffering some abuse?"
Bruno's breath caught in his throat. He didn't know what to say to that. Admittedly he hadn't even considered it an option.
"You know him better though, so…" Giorno shrugged. "I just wanted to mention it because I've…seen it before."
"No, thank you, Giorno. I'm glad you mentioned it," Bruno said quietly.
Giorno nodded and raised his hand in a wave, quickly walking away.
Bruno just stood there by his bike until he snapped out of his dark thoughts when he saw Leone walking towards him.
"Leone," Bruno hissed and grabbed his shoulder, ushering him around the side of the building because it felt like this conversation should take place away from prying eyes.
"What?" Leone demanded as Bruno released him.
"I was just talking to Giorno," he said quietly. "Do you…do you think someone could be abusing Fugo?"
Leone's eyes blew wide, confusion and anger darkening them. "What? Is that what the blond twerp said?"
"Leone it…it makes sense," Bruno admitted. "Maybe? I don't know, but it's something to consider, right?"
"Well, who then?" Leone demanded. "If you're talking about physical abuse, I mean, I doubt it's his parents. They don't have to go that far and they know it. And who else would it be?"
"I don't know," Bruno said. "But…I mean, we don't really know his parents all that much."
"Aside from the fact that they're assholes," Leone added."
"It could also be someone here at school," Bruno mused. "He's grading papers for multiple classes, someone could be trying to force him to make sure they get a good grade?"
"I don't know," Leone said slowly then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mean, yeah it's possible, but I'm not really looking forward to broaching that subject with Fugo, are you?"
"We can't bring it up," Bruno admitted, feeling that all too familiar helplessness running through him. "He's gonna have to be the one to do it first."
"Let's see if anything changes over the weekend," Leone said. "If it does, we'll know it's something at school, and if it gets worse…"
"Then we'll know it's something at home."
The problem was, Fugo seemed just neutral the whole of next week. Not necessarily avoiding them, but keeping them at a distance, especially if one of them tried to catch him alone.
In his constant silent investigation, Bruno almost forgot that it was his birthday Saturday until his father placed a plate of lopsided pancakes in front of him when he had gotten up and made his way into the kitchen, still groggy.
"Happy birthday," Paolo said with a small smile. "Your friends will be over in a couple hours."
Bruno grinned. "Thanks, Papa. These look delicious."
His father sat across the table from him. "Feel any different, now that you're eighteen?" he asked.
Bruno carefully chewed his pancakes and plucked a strawberry from his plate. "No," he said after consideration.
"I didn't either," Paolo admitted and stood up. "Anyway, I got you something. It's sitting out front."
Bruno got up to head out the front door and saw a brand-new shiny bicycle sitting out on the front path. It was a midnight blue six-speed, and had a basket on the front that wasn't in danger of falling off if loaded too heavily.
"I know it's not a car, but…"
"It's perfect, Papa, thank you," Bruno said, genuinely touched as he went to inspect the bike. It really was a nice one. A new bike hadn't even been something Bruno had asked for, but now that he had one, he realized just how bad his old one had been getting.
"Why don't you take it for a spin before the others get here?" Paolo told him with a smile.
Bruno grinned and climbed onto the bike, taking if for a ride around the block and down to the road by the sea, the fresh morning breeze whipping through his hair. He tested the gears and realized how easy it was to go uphill with this bike.
By the time he got back, he felt completely refreshed and put his bike away carefully in the shed around back. He spotted Leone's car already parked out front and when he went inside, he found his friend drinking coffee in the kitchen with his father.
"Hey, happy birthday," Leone told him. "The others will be here soon, but Mista went to pick up the gelato."
"I hope you don't mind, but I also asked his mother if she would make your cake," Paolo said sheepishly. "You know I'm not much of a baker."
Bruno laughed. "That sounds great."
They chatted for a while until a car horn sounded from outside and Bruno went to open the door to the rest of the party.
"Hey, birthday boy!" Mista crowed as he got out of the car, waving.
"We've brought the party!" Narancia added, holding up a cake saver.
"Be careful with that," Trish snapped as she got out of the back of the car. "You're gonna get the frosting all messed up."
Mista pulled a cooler out of the back. "Narancia helped pick so there's like, a million flavors," he said with a grin.
"Look, it's a party, we need gelato. Bruno loves gelato."
"I do love gelato," Bruno agreed.
He was, admittedly almost surprise to see Fugo climb out of the back of the car. He hadn't said he wasn't coming, but then he had been avoiding them. Still, Bruno was glad to see him.
And Giorno for that matter, because he hadn't been sure the blond boy would show up either, but he was glad to see him squeezing out of the back of Mista's car as well.
"I'm glad you could make it after all," Bruno told him.
Giorno smiled, and presented Bruno with a small potted plant a little sheepishly. "I…didn't really know what to get you but I had a bunch of baby spider plants from the one in my room so I thought I'd bring you one. They're really easy to care for, and they'll make a ton more once it grows to maturity." He stopped as if realizing he was talking a lot, but Bruno took the small plant, genuinely touched.
"Thank you, Giorno. I hope it will be happy here."
Other gifts were placed on the kitchen table like an offering and once the gelato was stored away in the freezer, Narancia spoke up, bobbing up and down on his feet.
"So, are we going out on the boat today?"
Bruno glanced at his father who shrugged. "I have the whole day if that's what you want to do."
Bruno grinned and everyone made their way down to the docks climbing onto the boat before they cast off. It was a beautiful day and everyone enjoyed the sun and spent the morning fishing leisurely. Even Bruno's father looked more relaxed than he had seen him for a long time.
Bruno glanced over toward Fugo who was currently trying to explain to Narancia why he wasn't reeling the rod in correctly. Trish shrieked and tried to duck away as Mista held up a fish he had caught, making it wriggle toward her. Giorno ended up being the one to catch the most, impressing Bruno's father when he hauled in some good-sized fish.
By the time they got back in to shore, they were all boasting about their catches, and Paolo promised that they would use some of everyone's for dinner that night—except Narancia's who had all been too small and needed to be thrown back.
They spent the afternoon eating the multitude of gelato as Bruno opened his presents, then they played games, which, as usual, became chaotic with Narancia and Mista arguing, Fugo joining in on more than one occasion. They ate the fresh fish for dinner and had Mama Mista's lovely cake for dessert, eighteen candles set on the top of it for Bruno to blow out in one go.
And after the cake had been consumed, they all made their way out to the beach, splashing in the waves and eventually lying back on blankets to stargaze when it got dark enough.
Bruno felt perfectly content laying on the sand still warm from the day's sun, watching as each star appeared in the sky, just enjoying listening to his friends chat and bicker in their usual friendly fashion, even Trish and Giorno joining in—he found both of them actually had quite a sharp sense of humor when they weren't being quiet. He was glad they had gotten out of their shells a little.
He glanced over as he felt rather than heard footsteps in the sand approaching him and was surprised when Fugo sat down next to him, half on half off his blanket as if not sure whether he was welcome.
"Hey," Bruno said, pushing himself up and scooting over to offer more room.
"Hey," Fugo replied quietly, fingers tracing patterns in the sand for a long moment before he continued, "Look, I'm sorry I've been such an asshole lately. I've just…let some things go to my head, and it's kind of fucked me up."
Bruno sat up more, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I know. And it's okay. Really."
Fugo sighed and Bruno waited for a long moment but he didn't say anything else. He pressed his lips into a thin line. "You know I'm here to listen if you need to talk. Always," Bruno promised.
"I know," Fugo replied, tensing briefly before his shoulders seemed to relax.
He still didn't say anything, but that was okay. Bruno felt like he had at least gotten through to him and that could only be one step in the right direction.