Chapter Text
Now, Pannacotta Fugo had never been a man who indulged in the supernatural. There wasn't time for those fantasies when he was growing up. Until recently, he had never given the concept more than an occasional once over. The idea that things exist outside of current human comprehension made sense. Everything that has ever been discovered has at once been accused and speculated against. Perhaps the creature was merely a normal animal where it shouldn't be. And perhaps the ghost in the old black and white photo was merely someone walking into frame while the camera took so long to process. The sirens sailors claimed to see were never more than a stray manatee with a glamor provided by the sailors' women starved minds. Platypuses were once considered cryptids before scientific proof was gathered. And cryptids as a concept are almost self defeating. The intrigue of cryptids is that you're not completely certain they exist. But when one is found and scientifically recognized, it is no longer a cryptid and is just a new animal. Science was ever fickle and ever fascinating. The intricacies of the natural world would have been in Fugo's field of interest at some point, but years of forced focus on law and order had made studying for fun a more foreign topic than he would have liked.
As a natural born genius and heir to a wealthy family, Fugo had an entire world to bear and expectations even greater than that. He grew up fast; had the knowledge of a man thrice his age by the time he was ten. He had the mannerisms too. A child so young with manners so refined is an odd sight to see and a dreadful life to lead. Friends, hobbies, familial love, these were all things young Pannacotta had to grow without. He had to adapt. It was survival of the fittest but where every new predator was just increasingly worse versions of himself. School was his life. He worked his hardest to please his parents and yet… They never loved him. He was a pawn, saved for power moves and tricky gambits. A poster boy for the traitors that were his parents. Stand still, look pretty, be polite. There was nothing in that life for him. Everything stayed bottled up, rejection after disappointment and begin again. He always had anger issues. His parents never cared enough to get him tested. Only caring enough to punish him for acting out. It was no life for a boy, especially one so young and bright. And the one day,
-he snapped.
The man had it coming. College was no place for a twelve year old and a twelve year old was no place for a man's hands.
He was disowned shortly after.
For weeks he fended for himself, picking fights on the streets and making do with little. It was no way for a boy to live but it was freeing.
He was adopted shortly after.
It was the fault of a young man by the name of Bruno. He was 5 years older and similarly struggling. His home was small and more of a children's home of boys than anything else. But Bruno taught Fugo what it meant to live and be loved. Bruno had given Fugo the family he so desperately needed. The love he had craved throughout his childhood.
His situation had gone through with the board of state and Fugo had been given the option to continue college for no cost at all. But he refused. He had always been pressured to succeed at a much higher level than he should. Finishing college with a Masters degree before he even became an adult was just what his parents would have wanted. So Fugo waited. He waited 6 years to resume his formal education. Was it tedious? Yes. Was it boring? A little. Did Fugo regret it? Not at all. His parents would have been distraught and that's all that mattered to him.
Fuck them.
That's what brought Fugo to where he is now. A 3rd year college student at the age of 20, on his way to a master's in law. Or maybe psychology? He wasn't sure yet. He was still covering the prerequisites. What he did know, without a doubt, is that he was going to guarantee that not a single child would face the same horrors he did as a boy.
And that's where Fugo is now. Walking home from class, the last of the week in fact. It's a friday two weeks before Halloween. Pumpkins and bats decorate the surrounding homes in varying degrees of success. That's what had really cemented thoughts of the supernatural in his head.
Vampires and ghouls and sexy versions of ordinary things decorated shops that only appeared once a year. He had only begun celebrating Halloween after moving in with Bruno. Holidays weren't an option in his old house. They were just periods of time for more studying as far as we had been concerned. It was nice. To have the luxury of taking a night off to go harass neighbors for candy and prank the rich ones with acts of light vandalism… in theory. One year Fugo, Mista, and Narancia had planned an elaborate scheme to lay countless traps in the yard of some old asshole that had called the cops on them for 'disruption of the peace' during one of their monthly impromptu midnight dance sessions. The boys had underestimated the power of a few of their traps and long story short, all three boys now had an arson on their hands. Naturally they hadn't been caught. But that didn't mean they could avoid getting a scolding from Bruno(about getting caught, not about the vandalism).
He was too old to go trick or treating now, although the other boys agreed that childhood trauma gets you a free pass to trick or treat for life. Even so, he didn't want to show up to peoples' houses in costume as a lanky six foot tall man, however loose of a term that was. So he had settled on going to Bruno's Halloween party instead. It was a nice median. Fun and family and everything he had earned as a teen for making it through the tough parts of life.
Now Fugo lives on his own in a dorm house closer to his college campus than Bruno's house. He's been moving back during the summer and visiting most weekends but the home he has right now is comfortable enough. It's nice to have his own space even if it feels more empty than should be.
That thought is what led Fugo to getting a dog. Or, well, a dog getting Fugo.
He was a feral little thing that resided in an alley between two hole in the wall restaurants near the campus. Part chihuahua, part so many other dogs, the tiny creature was flea ridden and starved to the touch. He would bark at anyone who passed and chase down any student unfortunate enough to walk within twenty feet of the alley while carrying food. Fugo had taken pity on his and had fed him once or twice which had led to the thing following him all over campus. This included following him into the buildings and he had been scolded for that despite the fact that the dog wasn't even his. A week prior he had gotten sick of it and had grabbed the dog on his way home before making a run for it. He had only let go after getting inside his house and closing the door. The dog seemed more panicked the he should have been considering he had been stalking Fugo for the past month.
Now when Fugo opens the door to his small home, the pup greets him with delighted yaps. He pets Purple Haze's head while the song of the same name plays on loop from the living room. PH seemed to only be truly calm when listening to the song so Fugo figured it was as good a name as any. Certainly better than Mista, who had just numbered his six mice one through seven.
It was late now. The sky was as pitch black as it had been at six. The fall always made it more difficult to walk home. There was more to see and less opportunity to see it. If anyone had been following him he would have had no idea. That was the main issue with living alone, sans dog. If someone had followed him home, there would be more incentive to do something than if he had walked back to Buccellati's house, full of lights and sounds and enough men to intimidate any potential kidnapper or burglar. Bruno's house had been broken into once a few years back by someone who didn't get the memo that there were five men and one girl, all living in the beat up old home at the end of the street. One man having been a cop previously, and the rest of them having lived on the street at some point.
Purple Haze ran behind him as he made his way to the kitchen, his untrimmed claws making an insistent tapping noise as he followed. The only light present was from a porch light a few houses down and the kitchen light he had just turned on. Besides the sounds of dog, there weren't any other noises in the house. His doors were always locked when he was out and when he was home as well. There wasn't any realistic way someone could enter his home without destroying something. In spite of practical reasoning, he always found himself glancing down the dark hallway to his bedroom during the dark months approaching winter.
Fugo wasn't much of a cook. Neither were any of his family members. Mista was the best cook, which didn't mean much when his only competitors knew how to make at least one good dish each and that's it. Buccellati had always made really good meals when he first moved in, but they got tiring after a few months.
Bruno's decent cooking skills didn't matter when the only dishes he could make were just variants of cooked fish. Fish stew, fish soup, fried fish, baked fish, fish sticks, fish and chips, grilled fish, steamed fish, ect. The only differences were in what type of fish he had caught. One could not live on fish alone.
It had certainly helped when Abbacchio moved in with Bruno. He knew fewer good recipes, but none of them contained even a trace of fish. Before he moved in, the only foods they ate were microwaved meals, takeout, and fifty variants of fish.
That being said, Fugo only ate two of those things anymore now that he was out of the supervision of Buccellati.
It had been a long day and something warm and sleep inducing would have been nice, but he opted for the easy option of reheating yesterday's dinner. That way he could give some to Haze.
The short remainder of the evening passes will little conflict. The sky was now even darker than before. Impossibly dark, even. Not even the insistent rain pelting the surrounding block was visible with how little light there was.
Sleep softly drifts into Fugo's consciousness as PH sits on his lap, gnawing at it's tiny feet.
Knock
Knock
Knock
His eyes rip open with a start. Purple Haze jumps off his lap and begins growling. No yapping yet… odd…
'Now who could that be…' He glances at his phone. 10 pm, it reads. 'Shit…'
The door is still and steady as he approaches it.
Knock
Knock
Knock
Fugo flinches at the sound. Besides the knocks, the only sound was the rain pouring down.
Knock
Knock
Knock
His hand hesitates at the handle. Fugo didn't necessarily believe in the supernatural, but he had seen horror movies, and he didn't want to die by being the idiot white protagonist of one.
The tension is nauseatingly thick. There isn't an actual energy radiating from whatever was behind the door, but it sure feels like it.
This is stupid.
The doorknob clicks as he unlocks the door and it swings open with more force than is warranted.
What he first notices is a light. A bright glowing light, creating a silhouette of the figure in front of him.
It's a man, features indefinable but strikingly beautiful nonetheless. His hair is a lovely gold that cascades down his back. He's just barely shorter than Fugo but holds much more authority than he.
"Sorry for bothering you so late. I'm just wondering if you could help me with something." The man says in a sweet but slow voice.
At that moment, Fugo felt ready to do anything for him. But that's unreasonable. So he doesn't.
"What do you need? It better be important if you're bothering me this late." He plays irritated and if it was anyone else at his door he would be, but he feels as though he can't be irritated at this man.
Fugo steps back, so he can take a better look. But he can't. There's something off about him. Something that makes Fugo avert his eyes.
The man doesn't move when he speaks. Only his face changes, but Fugo isn't sure how. "There was a dog… I know…" the man pauses, unsure of how to continue. "I saw you with him. I haven't seen him in a long while. I just want to know what you know about him. About where he went? He isn't wandering the streets anymore so I'm just worried...you see…"
Oh. This was about Haze. It's much too late to be asking about a dog. As far as he was aware the dog wasn't even his.
"Oh you mean Purple Haze?" The man raises an eyebrow in question before Fugo opens the door more and gestures to the mutt standing wide eyed on top of the couch. He taps once. The man's mouth goes agape and he points, visibly excited.
"Yes! That's him!"
"Is he your dog or…" Fugo looks between them. Haze didn't seem to be reacting. Just staring...quietly…
"Oh no I was just worried about him. Thank you for caring for him. May I pet him?"
Fugo found it hard to even think of saying no. PH was hardly ever quiet when awake. So that must mean something.
"Sure. He's only mine because he forced his way in so I don't see why not." He opened the door further and gestured towards the dog. The man looks Fugo up and down without moving from his spot on the porch.
"Can… you invite me in… it's very important to me… manners… that is…" he seemed to be thinking carefully about each word he spoke before actually saying anything.
"Ok… please, come in…" At that, the man perked up before quickly walking inside, glancing at the surroundings before approaching the dog.
"Hi baby…" He raised his hand to Purple Haze who immediately began rubbing it's little head against his palm and panting happily.
His lips twitched into a smile at the sight. He still didn't know the man's name and he had been there for almost no time at all, but the pup had already warmed up to him so it was probably fine. Fugo had never been the type to trust strangers and never would be that type. But things seem just fine for now.
"So you named him Purple Haze?" The man was looking at him now and he was just as hard to focus on as he was outside.
"Uh yeah. Like the Hendrix song? He likes listening to it. I play it for him when I'm not home." This made the man smile sweetly. There was something mesmerizing about it in that same way he couldn't understand.
"That's cute… I'm glad he's found a home."
"Yeah… me too… listen it's late. It's a really bad time to visit. I'm Pannacotta Fugo. Would you consider coming back tomorrow-" Fugo's train of speech was derailed with a whispered, "Of course," from behind. He whips around but the man isn't there and the door he had left open was now closed. When he turns back around, the man standing in front of him mere moments ago is gone. Purple Haze is asleep as well. No signs that the man had ever existed where present.
'Huh…' He hadn't known the man, had never caught his name either. But now something felt missing. There had been an almost calming aura about him. Something inhuman but not unwelcome.
The man was gone and with him went the odd light that had encapsulated him.
The room seemed darker than before, and significantly lonelier as well.