Work Text:
PANNACOTTA
I don’t want to set the world on fire.
Ever since his birth, Fugo had learned to fear who he was. He was plagued by his deeds, always running from himself. When he looked within his soul, he saw something fiery and destructive, something that could burn an entire forest down into ash to be blown away with the wind. In his mind, he felt he could never cease the destruction he caused to the world. Pannacotta Fugo lived a wretched life.
I just want to start a flame in your heart.
In truth, all he ever wanted was to be loved. He had learned to grow scared of love and stop believing in its existence over the years, as nobody ever saw him as human, just an object to be used and toyed with. To his parents, he was just a huge brain sitting on a tiny body, his only purpose in life to meet their high demands that ate away at him from the inside out. They never loved him.
Fugo’s idea of “love” was destroyed by one of his school professors. He could never forget what happened to him, pinned against a wall, with a strong hand around his neck. Belly-up on a bed, heart pounding and head spinning, clenching his jaw and trying not to cry. He had gone into a blind rage when the professor approached him, promising good grades if Fugo just went to his house again, and beat him to unconsciousness in fear of the unspeakable things he knew would happen to him.
After that was when Fugo stopped believing in love. He never knew of a person who had it in them to love him, and he felt ugly and unwanted, like a man thrown out to sea. He was temperamental and his patience was fragile, and nobody saw past his anger and mean words.
That is, until he joined Passione. Sometimes, he believed to have caught glimpses of love within the group, which was strange and surprising. He could see it in the eyes of his other gang members on peaceful days when they talked low and the breeze flowed in through the windows, he heard it in the laugh of Mista as they stayed awake for ungodly hours of the night, making pillow forts and playing video games until sunrise, and he was told it in the words of Narancia when he woke up from a haunting nightmare of his professor, trembling and sobbing and needing someone to hold onto.
Slowly but surely, Fugo found love.
In my heart I have but one desire
And that one is you, no other will do.
Without the gang, Fugo didn’t know where life would’ve taken him. Maybe he’d still be on the streets, desperate and lost, all his pain and anguish threatening to bubble over within him. Or, maybe he’d still his “teacher’s pet”, feeling shameful and sick every time he knocked on his professor’s door.
Sometimes, he thought he’d just be better off alone, left to rot, locked away from the rest of the world to prevent his destructive nature from plaguing the lives of everyone around him. In the faces of his gang, he always saw a twinge of fear whenever he raised his voice and growled harsh words. And yet, they all still loved him anyway, for they knew of what really lay in Fugo’s core. They knew he really did care, that his heart was huge and pulsing with affection and concern for them, but it was too hard to express in any other way except his sharp temper. Whenever he apologized for a bout of anger, they forgave him. If another gang member was feeling upset, he comforted them. Though he had his moments of rage, in the end, his soul was gentle. That’s why they showed their love to him, in subtle glances and spoken words.
If his life was in any way altered, if he was stuck on the streets or with another set of people, maybe that’d be different, and he’d be an outcast. Fugo couldn’t imagine being anywhere else except Passione.
I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim
I just want to be the one you love.
And that’s what made it so hard to leave. Everyone, all his friends, had made the choice to betray their Boss, but Fugo, he couldn’t do it. It pained him to see them sail away without him, to hear Narancia say his final goodbye as he dove into the water to catch up with the others. At a point, he almost wanted to follow Narancia, jumping in the depths with him and swimming out to sea, desperately trying to catch up to the boat his friends were all on. His clothes would be soaked, and his skin would be chilled, yet he would still do it if he could.
But, he knew he couldn’t. Betraying the Boss was a death sentence. He knew he couldn’t take it to watch all those he cherished fall right in front of him, the only people who had ever loved him, who would ever see his heart rather than hear his violent words and turn away. It would only shorten his temper to see them fade away and slip from his fingers like sand. He vainly wished they’d come back and realize what they were doing was irrational and hopeless. All he could do was reach out, hot tears stinging in his eyes.
Fugo could never forget the last words Narancia told him before diving into the sea. “If I never see you again,” he said, “just know we’re all in here.”. He reached out to place a hand on Fugo’s chest, right over his heart, before turning away and jumping in the water, fading into the sunset with the rest of Passione.
And with your admission that you'd feel the same
I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of, believe me.
He’d never known what it felt to lose so much. Too many things in his life had gone wrong; he had felt hatred towards his parents, he beat one of his professors senseless, and he was cast away to scavenge on the streets. Yet, the harshest pain he ever felt was deserting those he loved, the only ones who accepted his fiery temper, who valued his character over his intelligence, and who still adored him despite leaving them behind. Maybe he had reached his desire to be loved by another and to truly be seen as a person with emotions deeper than blind rage. He was scared, though, that this was the end of the line, and he was doomed to never be loved again.
When Fugo looked into his soul, all he saw was a monster, drooling and savage, ready to tear flesh to shreds. He was dirty, disgusting, and evil, floating through life completely alone and rejected. Nobody had ever seen him as much more than this until Passione. But, he wasted those years away from one tiny decision, and now he knew he was doomed to be feared and neglected, outcasted from the lonely Earth he was unwantedly ripped into.
Fugo’s world caught fire, crumbling to ash and scattering in the wind, never to be pieced together again.
I don't want to set the world on fire.