Chapter Text
Fugo hates having nothing to do. He always needed to do something, like work or...work. Damn his workaholic tendencies.
Bucciarati has given him the day off and told him to do “normal teen things”. Fugo was no expert on normal, but he knew sitting in the park glaring at the ice cream stand was not a normal-teen-thing.
People gave them odd looks while walking by. A runner stopped and asked if he was having a bad day. He told them to piss off. No one asked if he was okay after that.
He decided to walk around a bit, look less like a bitter old person. It was cold and he was shivering a little, but refused to go back to the apartment to grab his coat. Buccairati has wanted him to wear one, insistent that the holes in his suit were a recipe for getting chilled. Fugo, of course, said he wasn’t a baby and didn’t need a damn coat. He still didn’t need that damn coat.
Fugo was very bitter all the time. He was always mad, too. Narancia said he was like the Hulk, but instead of turning into a big green monster, he unleashed a deadly smoke monster. (Narancia hadn’t called Purple Haze deadly though, he’d called him cute. Purple Haze was not cute.)
Speaking of deadly smoke monster, Fugo decided to let the ugly beast out, just so his soul didn’t feel like it was crushing his rib cage. Someone once told him that he needed to let his stand out every so often, or else you’d get ill. Fugo didn’t know if he believed that statement. But sure, he’d let the smoke monster out if it meant not being stuck in bed with the flu.
He sat back down on the bench and glared at the ice cream stand again. He wanted something to do, dammit! Something important! There had to be something he could do at home! Like clean the apartment! It had only been 3 days since he last cleaned it and it was already a mess! His 4 roommates were the worst! ( They were his only friends, though)
All of the sudden, his moth felt like it was stuffed with fur. He whipped his head around to see Purple Haze trying to stuff a squirrel into it’s sewn mouth.
“ Haze, no!” He screamed at his stand. The stand barely bat an eye. “ Spit!It!Out!” Again, the stand did not spit out the squirrel. “ You dumb purple asshole! Spit out the squirrel!”
The stand made a disapproving face but spit out the squirrel, covered in drool. The small creature ran away fast as Haze looked at Fugo sadly.
“ God, if you’re so hungry, I’ll buy ice cream, but you can’t eat squirrels!” He hated his stand but he’d buy it ice cream if it would stop it from eating rodents. Haze made a happy noise and drooled over itself. “ Ugh. Stay here. I’ll go get the ice cream.”
He took out his wallet and walked over to the ice cream stand. The owner, or just the person working the stand, gave them a worried look, but accept their money as he ordered a strawberry ice cream.
“ Thank you.” He thanked the owner and walked back over to his giddy stand. “ Now, you can’t eat this yourself, so I’ll eat it. We’re the same so it’s basically the same.” Haze happily gurgled. “ I swear if this was all a ploy to get me to eat ice cream.” He didn’t finish his sentence as he began to eat his ice cream. It was very good.
“ How was your day?” Bucciarati asked him when he got home.
“ I bought ice cream.” Fugo said nonchalantly. “ Purple Haze almost ate a squirrel.”
“ I-“ Bucciarati tried not to laugh. “ I’m not going to ask.”
“ Good.” Fugo replied.