Chapter Text
The house is, for the most part, utterly quiet, the occasional drifting chatter from lingering conversation, the blips and blops of the GameCube, the soft patter of rain outside being the only noises heard, melding into each other to make an incoherent mess of nothing but sound. They haven't been doing much the past week or so, which is a surprise in and of itself, because normally, la squadra di protezione del capo is doing nothing but going and going. That's not to say it's not a welcome surprise, because if they're being honest with themselves, a break from gang work is nice every once in a while. However, it's been particularly irking to one member in particular.
To Giorno Giovanna, life needs activity and spice for one to stay lively and in high spirits. The first few days of their break were peaceful and relaxing, sure, but it's been almost a week now of radio silence from Bucciarati. He's been insisting that they've earned a rest, especially after what happened to Mista and Fugo three weeks ago (despite his efforts, Fugo just can't seem to remember that he's not immune to Purple Haze's virus, and Mista, by extent, ended up in the crossfire with him). It's been frustrating Giorno quite a bit to see his teammates doing nothing, which is why last night he spent hours putting together the perfect plan for activity and team togetherness.
Giorno waltzes into the kitchen and slams the briefcase in his hand down onto the table, causing its current residents to jump at the loud noise. He gives them a genuine smile before sliding into the chair in front of him and clicking open the case, carefully running his finger over the edges of the hundreds of chips inside.
It's Mista who speaks first, breaking the awkward silence they've created. "Giorno. Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but what're you doing, man?" Giorno only smiles again in return, causing Mista's expression to scrunch up in what looks like a mix of horror and concern.
"Yeah, GioGio," Trish cuts in, looking up from her nail file to glare at him with unease, "everything okay? You've been acting kinda strange since Bruno said we'd get the week off."
Giorno nods, because yes, he knew someone else would understand. "That's exactly right," he confirms, gesturing to the case of chips. "We've had nothing to do since then, no structure or order or events detailing what we're to do. Therefore, I figured you all must be going as crazy as I am in this stale environment. So I've decided." He draws in a breath, then swiftly delivers the kicker, throwing four packs of playing cards down onto the table.
"I want you all to play a card game with me."
Mista immediately shucks one of the packs to the floor. Other than that, however, Trish and Mista are speechless, and Giorno doesn't blame them. The idea of playing card with friends was a genius one on his part, and he can only imagine the excitement that must be running through their heads right now.
"Uhhhh, Giorno?" Trish finally croaks, her brow furrowed in what Giorno can only guess is a face of preparation.
He smiles back at her. "Yes?" Trish lets out a laugh, and it sounds forced.
"Ahahah, no offense to you or anything, Giorno, but that sounds-"
"Super awesome!" Mista finishes for her, the same look of anticipation in his eyes that Trish has in hers. "As your friends, we're super excited to play a card game with you! Aren't we, Trish?" He looks over at her, and she rolls her eyes before letting out a colossal sigh.
"Yeah. We sure are," she gets out, prompting a big and bright smile to come creeping onto Giorno's lips.
"I'm very glad," he admits, clasping his hands over his heart. "This game I've prepared is a personal favorite of mine, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you learn to love it as much as I do."
"Oh sick, we're playing cards?" comes another voice from the hallway. It's Narancia, hair in its typical mess, a Capri Sun in his hand (it's fruit punch flavor). "You guys started already or can I join in?"
Giorno's heart clenches again and he smiles brighter. "Oh, no, Narancia, we haven't started yet! You're more than welcome to sit down and play if you'd like."
Narancia shrugs and slides into the seat beside Trish, creating a semi-circle on the opposite end of Giorno.
"We're gonna need one more person to join us, if that's the case," Mista points out, gesturing to the people sitting at the table. "Or if any of us wants to leave."
Trish shakes her head. "Like you said earlier, Mista, we're playing as Giorno's friends. I'm staying, and I'm not sure Narancia will want to leave so soon after he joined." To this, Narancia's face brightens.
"I've got a solution to this," he says with full confidence, turning his head to yell down into the hallway. "Oi! Fugo!"
Giorno's face scrunches. "I'm not sure this is the best idea, Narancia-"
"What do you want, Nara?" Fugo's sleepy voice drones from the entryway. He then squints and surveys the table, rolling his eyes a little. "Actually, nevermind. Let me guess. You guys are playing cards and Mista's being a little baby because there are f-"
"Don't," Trish interrupts, glaring at Fugo with a deadly gaze. "Just play the game, will you?"
Fugo rolls his eyes again and slides beside Narancia, resting his head in his hands. "Just deal me in already, will you?" he sighs.
Giorno takes the packs from the table (and the one from the floor) and opens them up, much to Mista's dismay.
"Uhh, Giorno?" he groans, face scrunched up in horror. "D'you mind getting rid of one of those? Or maybe adding one more if that's alright?"
Giorno scans over the small paper boxes, and his eyes widen in realization. "Ah, of course," he replies, taking another pack of cards from the case and adding it to the mix. "I didn't realize there were fo- excuse me, three plus one packs of cards on the table. My apologies, Mista." Giorno takes all of the cards from the packages and folds them together in a weird clumpy shuffle, then looks up at the group.
"This game is called Acey-Deucey," he announces, folding his hands together in a professional stance. "It is a popular wagering game in many American casinos, where it's commonly referred to as Yablon, Between the Sheets, and Red Dog."
Narancia begins to snicker. "Heh, between the sheets," he repeats in a hushed laugh. Mista joins in not long after, but Fugo clears his throat to calm them down before it can escalate.
"I will agree it is quite an uncommon name," he continues. "Anyway, Acey-Deucey is a relatively easy game, and it's one of my favorites. My mother taught it to me when I was small." Giorno's face hardens a bit after he mentions his mother, then shrugs the thought away and picks up where he left off, taking a stack of green betting chips and placing them on the table.
"We'll start by placing bets. I'll pass each of you twenty chips, and you'll bet anywhere between one and ten chips. Everyone must bet, and I'm setting the limit at half right now since we're just getting started."
Giorno then divides the chips into five stacks, passing one to each player and picking up the stack of cards again. "Oh, yes, and I forgot to mention, I'll be the dealer for this round. The dealer still plays, but it's best to rotate since the game tends to favor the dealer. We'll rotate every round, okay?" The congregation nods, and Giorno smiles, beginning to shuffle the cards as best he can.
"The five decks I've shuffled together are called the shoe," Giorno explains, stacking the shuffled cards together again. "We'll each call our bets once the dealer has shuffled, and then whoever deals will place down two cards, face up. The cards apply to all betting players. I'll bet first."
Giorno takes five chips from his stack and sets them aside. "I'm betting five this round. Mista, go ahead and bet now, and we'll go clockwise."
"Ah, heck, seven chips," Mista fumbles, putting seven in front of his main stack.
Trish scoffs, placing a single chip down from her stack. "I'm not stupid. I don't even know how this game works yet."
"Six!" Narancia announces confidently, slamming the stack down and knocking three chips off of the top of Mista's bet, who proceeds to let out a shrill screech and set them up again.
"I'll bet two chips, Giorno," Fugo says coolly, placing them carefully to the side. Giorno smiles and nods approvingly, his hand moving with clinical precision to the shoe.
"And now I flip over the cards," he explains again, proceeding to do just as he said he would. The cards drawn are the two of diamonds and the three of hearts. Giorno clicks his tongue and shakes his head with disapproval.
"If the cards are next to each other in rank," he clarifies, "then all bets are off, and these cards are retired." Giorno places the two cards at the bottom of the shoe. "You may alter your bets, if you'd like." Nobody says a thing.
"Next hand, then." He nods and flips over the jack of spades and three of clubs. "Ah, this is a fun spread!" Giorno exclaims, clapping his hands excitedly. "When the cards have a gap in rank, then there's a variety of things that can happen to your bets. First, however, you can raise your bet up to double the original amount if you'd like."
"I'll double mine!" Narancia beams, counting another six and placing them down onto his first bet. Fugo rolls his eyes beside him.
"I think I'm good for now," he replies. Both Trish and Mista nod in agreement with him, and Giorno blinks in understanding.
"I'm going to turn up a third card now. If it ranks in between the spread, then you all will win the bet, but if it matches one of the two or is outside of it, then I win all of your bets."
"That's not right," Mista points out. "That just makes it easier on you."
"Exactly. That's why you're to rotate the role of the dealer every round. I'm flipping the third card over now." It's the eight of spades. "So you all have won the bet. Now I just need to count how far apart the original two are."
"It's seven," Fugo answers without hesitation.
Giorno smiles. "Thank you, Fugo. Because the spread was seven cards, which is in the fou- five minus one through eleven range, I'm going to return your bets to you. It's an even payoff." He does so, one chip going to Trish, two to Fugo, seven to Mista, and twelve to Narancia, who cackles with delight.
"That means I'm winning, right, Giorno?" he laughs. "Because I have the most chips?"
"It does," Giorno confirms. "For right now, anyway. This is still the first hand. Anything can happen between now and the end of the game."
Narancia's eyes widen. "Really? Anything? Like the sky'll turn brown and start raining chocolate milk anything?"
"He means within the reason of the game, idiot," Fugo scoffs, elbowing Narancia in the side.
"Yeah, I get it."
Giorno turns to Mista. "Alright, Mista, it's your turn to deal now. Would you like to deal or do you want someone else to go?"
"Nah, I'll go," Mista says, nodding once and taking the shoe from Giorno. He shuffles the cards a few times, struggling a bit a few times. "Dang, this stack's straight massive. How'd you shuffle it so quickly, Gio?"
"Practice," Giorno answers simply. "You can tell everyone to place bets whenever you'd like, Mista. Oh, and if you'd like, I'll raise the betting limit to fifteen."
"Ah... Yeah." Mista places down ten of his own chips. "I'm gonna go ahead and throw down ten if that's alright. Think it's your turn, Trish."
Trish nods. "Six chips is my bet. Not making a stupid mistake like last time, knowing I can make bank that quick." To this, Giorno hisses through his teeth and grimaces.
"You realize we're not actually playing for monetary value, yes?" he clarifies, and Trish nods knowingly.
"Yeah, I gotcha, GioGio. Just an expression." She tilts her head toward Narancia, who takes a large amount from his stack and places it down, smiling wide.
"Go big or go home, amiright?" he yells. "Fifteen chips for me!"
Next to him, Fugo sighs and rolls his eyes again. "Three chips, Mista," he drones, setting them down with a dull click.
"Really, man?" Narancia asks, leaning towards Fugo with a dopey expression on his face. "Where's your sense of risk? It's just a silly game, Pannacotta~"
"Don't you dare call me that, Ghirga," Fugo snaps suddenly, Purple Haze shimmering into form behind him. Narancia immediately backs off, hands raised in front of him in a defensive position.
"Alright, okay, chill out, dude." Narancia relaxes and looks to Giorno. "Giorno, you gonna bet?"
Giorno nods. "Of course." He places twice Fugo's bet in front of him. "I'll bet six this time."
Mista gives him a thumbs up and shuffles the shoe one last time. "Alright, uhhh, here's the spread," he announces, flipping over both the five and eight of hearts. He takes a minute to survey the cards, brow furrowed in concentration. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that hand means I'm s'posed to flip over a third one, right?"
"You're right," Giorno affirms. "Make sure to ask if anyone would like to change their bets, though. They can up to double the bet."
"Yeah, alright. Anyone wanna change their bet?"
Trish raises her hand, withdrawing three chips from her stack. "I'll half mine," she decides. "The spread's pretty small- there's a pretty good chance whatever card you pick's gonna be outside of that range."
Fugo takes away two chips- making his bet one. "I'll do the same, for the same reasons," he announces. "Nara? Will you change your bet?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna change my bet," he agrees. Then he takes all but two of the rest of his chips and makes a huge stack with them. "I'm gonna double it! Let's go, let's go, me and the boys gonna be winning this round!"
"How you ended up such a high rank in the mafia, I'll never understand," Fugo mutters under his breath. "Go ahead and flip the third over, Mista."
"Okay, then." Mista takes the shoe in one hand, drawing the top card from the stack-
And it's the king of diamonds. Outside of the spread- so as the dealer, Mista's won the bet.
Mista pumps his fist without a word as Narancia absolutely screeches in disbelief, hands flying to his hair and eyes widening in horror.
"Nononononooooo," Narancia whines, burying his face in his hands as Mista takes his stack of thirty chips and adds it to his pile. "This is so stupid. I should've never played."
That causes a pang of sadness to run through Giorno's heart. "Oh, Narancia, do you really mean that?"
"Of course he doesn't, Giorno, he's just being dramatic," Fugo scoffs, putting a hand on one of Narancia's now trembling shoulders. "Oh, quit crying, you baby. What happened to 'it's just a silly game'?"
"You shut your mouth, Fugo, stop making me eat my own words!"
"Wow," Trish remarks. "I'm surprised he knows what that means."
"And even more so that he used it correctly," Mista adds.
Fugo smiles proudly. "As a matter of fact, it was yesterday's phrase of the day on my calendar," he explains. He looks at Narancia with fond admiration. "I didn't know you paid attention to that."
Narancia shakes his head and sulks. "I don't, it's stupid. You're stupid."
Fugo shrugs. "Anyway, Trish, you're dealing now, okay?"
"Yeah, got it," Trish responds easily, sliding the shoe over from where it sits by Mista. She begins to shuffle the cards, having significantly less trouble than Mista did before. "Arright, Giorno, I got a question."
"Please, do ask."
"Okay, so since Narancia's pretty much dead in the water," Trish starts, to which Narancia mumbles a 'shut up, dammit', "how's he gonna bet or whatever? Or do we just bring the betting limit to... How many does he have? Two? Yeah, do we do that?"
Giorno's eyes widen. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry! I forgot to mention this to you all. If your chip count is lower than five overall, you're more than allowed to abstain from betting that round. However, it's only betting players that benefit from the dealer's loss, so if you don't bet, you can't win. Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Trish."
"Ah, no problem, GioGio. Just wanted to make sure Narancia wasn't completely outta the game or anything."
Trish then lets everyone place their bets, putting down an eleven for herself. Narancia, as they all figured, abstains from the bet, and Fugo places down a solid eight, which is quite the leap from his previous bets. Giorno bets nine, and Mista bets the highest of twelve.
The cards Trish flips over end up being the five of hearts and the seven of spades, to which everyone except for Giorno lowers their bets by six. The third card Trish flips is the six of clubs, however, and Giorno explains that since the spread is such a low value of one, Trish as the dealer pays all of the players six times their chip amount. Narancia accuses of Giorno using Gold Experience Requiem to cheat then; saying that he transmuted the third card into the lucky six of clubs. He didn't, however, and he even proves it by using GER to reveal the card's true nature. It's a pure card.
When it's Narancia's turn to deal, however, he refuses, saying he'd like to sit out entirely for the rest of the game. He doesn't let Giorno take his chips back, though. Fugo takes hold of the shoe, and it's revealed that he really, really sucks at shuffling cards.
"Stop that," Fugo scolds when Narancia begins laughing at his attempt. "I know how to shuffle cards. I'm just a little inexperienced is all."
"Suuuure Fugo, whatever makes you feel better," is all Narancia says in reply, clutching his stomach now with tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Is that why you skipped your turn as dealer?" Mista asks then, watching as Fugo tries to slot the two piles of cards together like a broken puzzle. "So you could laugh at how pathetic Fugo's shuffling skills are?" He's beginning to snicker a bit too, and Fugo's growing more infuriated by the second.
"Mmmm, yeah, that's part of it," Narancia admits, and Mista's dam breaks, his laughter full and uncontained.
Fugo stands up from his chair immediately following the fact, the shoe scattering into a mess over the tile floor. "Giorno, stop them, this is conjecture," he scowls, aiming his glare at Narancia especially.
Giorno stifles a quiet laugh of his own and clears his throat, gesturing to the two giggleboxes as he speaks. "Yes, Fugo's right," he agrees. "It's only a card game. It's not Fugo's fault if he is terrible at shuffling cards. Please don't laugh right now."
"So you admit he's bad at it!" Mista pounces, pointing a knowing finger at Giorno.
"Yes, I thought that was agreed on."
"I am not bad at shuffling."
"Oh, but you are too, Pannacotta-"
"What did I say about not calling me that?"
"Fugo, it's fine if you're bad at card shuffling, man. Don't make a big deal out of it and we won't either."
"I'm telling you I just haven't practiced in a while!"
"Hey!" Trish cries suddenly, and the table breaks into silence. "Can we just play the game already?" Fugo gives a small nod, slinking back into his seat as Trish summons her Stand, Spice Girl punching the broken shoe on the floor and quickly turning the cards into an elastic quality. She wills them to return back to normal, and they all fly into her hand from the backlash with perfect precision. "I swear. I'll never understand what it is about you boys with all of this arguing."
She slides the shoe over to Fugo. "They're shuffled. Everyone place bets. Mine's seven."
Fugo swallows, glancing at the cards. "Six," he says.
"Eight," Mista announces.
"My bet is ten," Giorno confirms.
Narancia obviously does not bet.
Fugo flips over the first two cards- the seven of spades and the nine of hearts. It's another dangerously close spread, and so Trish and Giorno drop their bets- Giorno by five and Trish by two. Mista ends up raising his bet however, betting every single chip he has. Fugo retaliates and matches his bet, then reaches for the final card to flip it over. He draws it out on purpose, it seems like, and the five at the table are watching with baited breath as he pulls over
the four of clubs.
Mista lets out a throaty almost-yell, and Fugo joins in not long after, both for completely different reasons. Fugo collects everyone's bets as Mista flings the card at him, clearly upset and shaken about the whole ordeal.
"Alright, so now that everyone has had the chance to bet, we'll count our chips and determine a winner," Giorno explains calmly.
"Ah, c'mon, Gio, is it even a question of who won?" Mista asks pointedly, gesturing to the literal hundred plus of chips Fugo has gathered in several stacks on his side of the table.
"Oh. I suppose it is rather obvious, isn't it?" Giorno turns to Fugo and smiles genuinely. "Congratulations, Fugo. I do hope you've enjoyed this game as much as I have- that applies to all of you, in fact."
"Yeah, gg, Fugo," Narancia gets out, giving Fugo a sort of half-smirk. "If any of us should win this stupid card game, it's definitely you, 'cause you're the biggest nerd here."
"We should play this game again some time," Trish remarks, beginning to sort the shoe into the five separate decks from before. "It was pretty nice, actually. What'd you say it was called, Giorno? Somethin' dog or whatever?"
"Red Dog is one of its variants, yes," Giorno confirms. "I've personally always called it Acey-Deucey, referring to how aces are high and twos are low in the game."
"I like that between the sheets name," Narancia remarks, to which Fugo mutters a soft 'of course you do'. "Let's play this tomorrow, okay? And maybe we can get Bruno and Abbacchio to join us next time."
Giorno smiles. "Actually, I was thinking of a different game we could play next time, unless you all like this one so much."
"Oh?" Mista asks. "And what's that?" Giorno only smiles and stands up from his spot at the table.
"You'll find out tomorrow, I suppose."