Chapter Text
“Hello everyone. I’m Giorno Giovanna. It’s nice to meet you.”
That sentence was the start of everything going wrong in Fugo’s life.
Fugo had already been having a bad day before Bucciarati called everyone to meet some new guy. He had burnt his toast and dropped an egg while making breakfast, having to clean up the mess he made. It didn’t even end there, as Fugo had been forced to take a cold shower due to his water heater acting up. When he got out of the bathroom, shivering, his toe got smashed by the door when he shut it. All of this added up made a very pissed off Fugo, and it was taking every molecule in his body to keep himself from committing certain atrocities.
When his phone wrang, he was sure Bucciarati could hear the irritation in his voice, but he still ordered Fugo to come meet his new gang member.
By the time he got there, Giorno Giovanna was already there, sitting next to Narancia.
“So what your saying is, when you say two times four, it means that four is being added to itself two times, right?” Narancia asked Giorno.
“What are you guys doing?” Fugo asked, walking over to Narancia and Giorno.
“Shh Fugo don’t distract me,” Narancia complained, turning back to Giorno. “And two times four is the same as four times two, which means two being added to itself four times?” Narancia asked.
“Yes,” Giorno nodded slightly. “That wasn’t too hard to understand, was it?”
Narancia grinned. “Fugo never explains stuff in this manner. You should totally replace Fugo as my tutor!”
Fugo froze.
“Now, I don’t want to replace anyone,” Giorno said nervously after seeing the look on Fugo’s face.
“Don’t worry about it!” Narancia said, oblivious to Fugo’s negative reaction. “I’m sure Fugo would be happy to have the burden of me off his shoulders. Please Giorno! I want to be smart!”
Giorno glanced at Fugo, who cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I don’t mind you tutoring him,” Fugo said, clearly sounding like he minded the situation. “What’s important is that Narancia learns, and if he learns better with you, then who am I to come in the way of his education.” He forced a smile. “I’m Panacotta Fugo by the way. You must be Giorno Giovanna. It’s nice to meet you.”
Giorno smiled, still nervous. “It’s nice to meet you too Fugo.”
Fugo took a seat, Mista passing him a plate with a slice of strawberry cake on it. Fugo accepted the desert but didn’t eat it. Poking the cake with his fork, Fugo was much more occupied by the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swimming in his mind.
Fugo didn’t know what he was feeling, neither did he know why he was feeling it. Narancia was right- Fugo should be happy to be freed of the responsibility of teaching Narancia. But then why did he feel so-. He couldn’t really complete that thought, not knowing the answer to that blank. Why did he feel so ____? He immediately ruled anger out of his mental list of ‘emotions I could be feeling.’ Fugo got angry a lot. So much so that he knew that feeling by heart. The icky feeling in his chest did not fit the profile of what he defined as anger.
He glanced at Narancia as he attempted a sum, using an eraser to rub out what he had written. Wait. That eraser.
Fugo grabbed Narancia’s wrist snatching the eraser out of his hand. “Where’s your favourite eraser?” Fugo asked.
Narancia looked away, using his free hand to fish a misshapen red lump out of his pencil pouch. Though you couldn’t tell anymore, the eraser had once been a mini replica of Narancia’s stand- Aerosmith. Fugo had gifted it to him at their very first tutoring session. Narancia had given Fugo the biggest smile when he saw the gift, ranting about how cool it was and showing it off to the other gang members.
“Fugo,” Narancia said, looking at the red lump in his hand, pushing it towards Fugo. “I want you to keep it with you.” Narancia said, placing the eraser in Fugo’s palm.
Fugo stiffened, eyes fixed on the eraser. Shutting his fist around it, he stood up, pushing his untouched cake forward. “My stomach hurts,” he muttered, his mind too crowded for him to come up with a better excuse.
He sprinted out of the restaurant, almost running straight into a waiter on his way.
He needed to get away. Away, from all thoughts that were bothering him, away from that Giorno guy and away from Narancia. He needed to be alone.
His hand shook as he tried to fit his house key into the lock. Pushing the door open, he managed to walk to the couch before nearly collapsing on too it. He squeezed the eraser in his hand before placing it on the centre table, staring at it as he got lost in his thoughts.
Fugo had always felt like an outsider. He had been there to witness the forming of Bucciarati’s team from the very beginning, yet he still never felt like he was actually part of the gang. While all of them had the similarity of having stands, Fugo still felt different. His stand could be used very rarely and overall, he felt he didn’t have much to offer. The only thing he had going for him was his knowledge. When Narancia asked him to be his tutor, Fugo had felt a pleasant feeling in his heart. He felt wanted. Finally, he could be useful. It all probably had to do with the way he was raised, with his parent’s love being conditional. If he didn’t do well in school, they acted like they didn’t want him anymore.
Now, it was Narancia who didn’t want him anymore, to the point where he had returned what used to be his prized possession back to Fugo as if it were nothing.
He who made him feel like maybe he did have a purpose in life, who dealt with Fugo’s bursts of anger while never holding a grudge. The boy who Fugo had saved from a certain fate- the boy named Narancia- didn’t want Fugo anymore. Fugo had been rendered useless.
His mind played the memory of Narancia’s delighted grin when he had gotten the eraser before his eyes focused and he came back to reality. As he saw the eraser laying on the table, he finally realised the feeling that was haunting him.
Fear.
Fugo was scared of his life going back to what it was- a life where he was lonely. A life without a purpose. A life without Narancia.
Fugo didn’t know when it happened, but he let his body go loose, and fell to sleep, his mouth hanging open, softly snoring.
Ding dong.
Fugo stirred softly.
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding doing, ding-
Fugo was woken up by the ringing of his doorbell. He rubbed his eyes yawning. Who could have come to visit him now?
He threw open the door to be met with a grinning Narancia who invited himself in. When Fugo noticed that Narancia had come with his notebook, hope coursed through his body that maybe Narancia did need Fugo after all. Maybe asking Giorno to replace Fugo had all been a joke.
“Fugo! Come listen to what Giorno taught me!” Narancia said.
Oh. Fugo’s hope was crushed as Narancia went on about all that he had learned. Fugo registered enough to notice that Giorno had managed to teach Narancia concepts that he hadn’t been able to.
“He really is a better teacher than me, isn’t he?” Fugo said suddenly, more to himself than to Narancia. “Why are you even here?” Fugo looked away. “I have nothing left to offer you. Leave me alone.”
Narancia looked confused. “I just came here to tell you what I learnt. I expected you to be proud of me, why are you getting upset?”
“That’s a nice way to say ‘I showed up to Fugo’s house to gloat about all that I learnt which Fugo could never teach me and to rub it in his face that I replaced him with a smarter person,’ isn’t it?” Fugo spat.
“Whoa you are blowing this way out of proportion,” Naranicia said.
“You know what, just get out of my house,” Fugo said. “I don’t need you to be my pity friend.”
“You are making up problems that don’t exist!” Narancia tried. “I’m not going to be your pity friend-,”
“Good, then leave.” Fugo said opening the front door for Narancia.
“Fugo,” Narancia tried.
“Just leave please,” Fugo begged. “I need to be alone.”
“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Narancia asked.
“Leave.” Fugo repeated.
“You know what, fine!” Narancia said storming out of the house. “If I knew you were going to be such a bitch about it I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place. This was really awful of you, you know. You’re being a really bad friend.”
“I already told you that you don’t need to pretend to be my friend anymore. Giving me the eraser made your message loud and clear.”
“What? No, I gave you the eraser because-,”
The rest of what Narancia said was not heard by Fugo as he slammed the door shut. Narancia rang the doorbell again, and again, and again, but Fugo ignored him, going back to his couch. It was evening already. He opened his fridge, deciding a vegetable salad would suffice or dinner. He chopped up cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes and lettuce, grabbing a fork. Half way through the salad, the mental exhaustion caught up to him as he kept the leftovers back in the fridge and curled up on the couch, going to sleep once more.
Fugo normally didn’t remember his dreams, but when he woke up the next morning, he remembered clearly what had been going on in his head as he slept. To sum it all in one word, it was ‘Narancia’ that had been going on in his head. His brain played the scene when he had first found Narancia eating food from a dumpster, but it wasn’t accurate to what ha actually happened that day. Instead of allowing Fugo to lead him to Bucciarati, dream-Narancia had backed away from Fugo.
“It’s okay,” Fugo had said softly.
“No it’s not,” Narancia said. “I may die of starvation, but I too have standards, and useless people like you who wander around the earth with no purpose are below me. Tell me, do you even know who you are?”
“I’m Panacotta Fugo,” Fugo said. “I’m your friend!”
“And who exactly is Panacotta Fugo huh?” Narancia asked. “What does he like? What are his dreams? His personality? Tell me Fugo, do you know the answer to any of those questions?”
“I-,” Fugo didn’t know what to say.
“As I said, you’re below me. Just being smart isn’t enough to survive in the real world, Fugo. You better open your eyes to the reality- the reality that you will never be good enough. You’ll never be on my level. I’m funny, enthusiastic, caring, loyal, handsome, I could go on and on.” Narancia said. “But you? You’re just a nerd with anger issues. Nothing appealing about that, is there?”
“Narancia,” Fugo whispered, reaching out for the boy.
“Goodbye Fugo,” Narancia said, disappearing, the whole dream starting to fade away and Fugo woke up.
He sat up shakily, looking at his palms. “Who am I?” Fugo whispered to himself.
Fugo decided he desperately needed some fresh air. Brushing his teeth and showering could wait. He pulled open the front door only for a familiar head that had been leaning on the door to fall into his house.
Narancia woke up with a start ad his head hit the floor of Fugo’s house.
“Good morning Fugo,” Narancia said, sitting up. ‘How did you-,” The door slammed shut. “Sleep,” Narancia finished.
Fugo pressed his back to the door, gathering himself. Looks like he wouldn’t be going for a walk. He looked down to see a note being slipped under his door. Picking it up with shaky hands, Fugo read the message scribbled in Narancia’s horrible handwriting. ‘I’ll win the eraser back, I promise.’
Fugo didn’t understand what it meant, but peering through his peephole, it seemed that Narancia had left. He sighed, opening the door, pocketing the note.
He had some thinking to do.