Chapter Text
Krat is crying.
The rain that was falling upon the city was mostly announcing a pain that P, Gepetto's puppet, couldn't understand at all. His chest was aching to a certain extent while he looked at the necklace the King of Puppets gave him before closing his eyes for good.
At the same time he was walking back to the Stargazer in order to arrive at the Hotel, his deep blue eyes kept staring at the artifact as if something was calling him. Although he was trying to make sense of his feelings, he felt like he was disappointing someone. He talked to his father and he praised him. Who would be disappointed, then?
Pinocchio didn't say a word after he arrived. Sophia wanted to talk to him once she saw he set a foot in the building but he almost looked like he wasn't in the position to do so. He left the woman hanging around, but somehow she understood. She could feel his ergo was disturbed. He walked quickly to the stairs, in the direction where the Gold Coin Fruit tree was. However, he stood in the middle of the yard, letting the water soak him entirely.
He was trying to understand. Have a grasp of what was going on in his mind. How come that he was feeling like this until now and not before? Somehow, something told him that standing in the rain would do magic, as if the drops could give him the answer he was looking for.
The only guest that caught sight of this was none other than the pharmacist with the blue-gray hair and top hat, Giangio. He was curious as to why the puppet would let the water run through his mechanical body like it was so normal for him. He even noticed that his hair grew longer, but decided to put the topic on standby since it seemed there was something more in the air. Something more complex.
—Mr. Stalker…— he called from the entrance of his room, —W-Would you like to… c-come in?
P, who was engrossed in his thoughts, was able to listen to the soft voice of the man and nodded. His feet moved a little bit faster, this human gesture of running away from the rain appearing out of nowhere, when seconds before he let the water do its job.
The wood creaked under them and Giangio closed the door slightly. He could see that the puppet had a face difficult to read. He noticed a glimpse of confusion in his eyes, but there was more than that.
—I-If I may ask… Is everything o-okay?— he asked, trying to close the distance between them. P still refused to speak, but looked at the man before him.
His hand was holding the necklace and his chest still had this inexplicable sensation of loss. Was he mourning?
The former Alchemist didn't want to push further, but certainly he wanted to get some answers out of him. His fingers were tapping slightly the handle of his umbrella, looking away for some seconds so he couldn't blow away the whistle that his blue eyes were too focused on P. It was like he wanted to read his mind by just using his.
—W-Well, Mr. Stalker… I-—
His mouth stopped immediately. He could see how Gepetto's puppet face frowned and tears started to come out from his eyes. He was about to offer his bed so he could lay down and give him some space, but he was taken by surprise at this event.
Emotions? This puppet who was not meant to feel emotions was crying in front of him? He was fascinated, he needed to admit, but right now he wasn't sure how to proceed.
Or maybe he did. It’s something that he wanted to do anyways, just that he wasn’t sure when was the most suitable time to do it. Or, for instance, if it would ever happen given their transactional relationship until now.
Carefully, Giangio left his umbrella to rest against the wall and closed a little bit more the distance between him and the puppet. His arms that felt so unsure of what he was about to do, then, travelled to his sides and at last, he embraced him.
A bold move. The pharmacist was sure he would be pushed away at any moment now.
But no…
Instead, the puppet rested his head on his shoulders, hiding his face at the same time. His hands met his hips, hugging him back.
Normally, the man wouldn't feel alarmed since he tends to have all his movements calculated from the start. But this was stepping outside the line he drew the moment he became a guest from the hotel. He was acting from pure impulse, just because he hated to hear Pinocchio crying like a lost child - he loathed, as a matter of fact, everything that could harm him.
But he was not going to get into that now.
—I don't… understand— Mumbled P, his body slightly shivering in the embrace, —I feel… Conflicted
—Why so, Mr. Stalker?— replied the pharmacist, the stammering disappearing and trying to slip some comfort in his voice
—I’m hurt… I defeated the King… But it’s the first time I have questioned myself… If I did the right thing… Father says I did… But-
“He gained consciousness” thought the man, daring to caress his hair at the same time. So many things were happening at once and he felt bad for not being able to address them properly. For he wanted to be this support.
He was being a little bit indulgent, but no one would notice. Just him, right?
—The King… He kept… Calling me Carlo… I feel bad for not knowing who’s him. I’m not him, but I don’t know who I am either…—
—That is for you to decide—
Those words made the puppet raise his head and look at the former Alchemist. They rang in his head as if it was the most obvious thing to say, but still, he wanted to hear more. And now that he had P’s attention, Giangio realized he needed to pick his stammering again.
—I-I think you are bound t-to find your place in this world— he continued, letting a slight smile be drawn in his pale face, —Is… A h-hard journey, but I b-believe in you…
What Gepetto’s puppet was feeling was different than when the old man praised him for doing a good job. Somehow, it felt more real and tender. The aching sensation in his chest was slowly being replaced by warmth, and soon he felt the courage to look at the necklace once more. He closed his eyes and placed it in his chest. After that, he let himself be on Giangio's shoulder once more. The atmosphere was so calm that he didn’t want it to disappear so quickly.
The sky above was still pouring its tears. Maybe, they were not sad tears. Maybe, the heavens were celebrating that the last soul of a broken family reunited with them. Perhaps, what Pinocchio needed was to be shown he was the only one who could tell what was his fate, that even when his face was similar to the angel with brown eyes, his heart, his ergo and mind was his and his alone.
In the back of his mind, Philipus wondered if there was something more that could be done regarding his own feelings. Seeing how everything was unfolding, the little conversations he had with the puppet was enough for him, even when he was craving to share more than that.
But for now, he can bask in the glory that he was his support and could be of great help besides changing gold coin fruit for wishes. A night that ended up on a high note.