Trip to Crystal Mountain

Fugo sat in the van with the rest of the gang, including Trish and Sheila, bored on their way to Crystal Mountain. The trees were pretty, and so were the patches of grass and wildflowers. Giorno and Trish would agree.

“Are we there yet? We passed a bunch of trees. How many more are there?” Narancia complained. He was listening to music with Mista. “And who would choose to live in the woods?”

“We’re not there yet,” answered Bruno, the driver.

“Wish we were, though,” complained Abbacchio, who sat in the front seat. “This drive is so boring. I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep, Bucciarati.”

“We’re almost there, everyone. Don’t worry.”

Fugo looked out the window and saw snow on the pine trees. The brightness of the snow made him smile, but it didn’t entertain him. He looked at Giorno, who struggled to stay up.

“Giorno”—he grabbed his hand—“most of those trees were Western redcedar.” He hoped that impressed him.

“Oh, yes, those beautiful trees. They are nice, don’t you agree?” Giorno asked.

“Yeah, a shame we don’t have those trees at home.”

“We don’t have any trees at home,” Narancia commented.

“What are you talking about?” Mista questioned. “We have trees.”

“It’s not the same, though!” He looked out the window. “Hey, no trees! Are we there yet?”

“Yes!” Bruno replied. “Alright, everyone, before we get out, make sure to put on your snow gear.”

Everyone put on their snow gear inside the cramped vehicle. Bruno wore white, Abbacchio wore black, Mista was in red, Narancia in orange, Trish in pink, Sheila in green, Giorno in yellow, and Fugo in purple.

Fugo thought his snow gear was a hassle to slip into since he had another layer of clothing. By the time he finished changing, he was hot and sweaty, but that changed once he stepped out a few seconds later, mountain air caressing and cooling his face.

“Hey, Fugo,” Narancia spoke, “where are you going to do?”

“Ski with Giorno. You?”

“I’m going to build a snowman. I always wanted to build one. No, I’ll make snow angels! Uh, I don’t know! Wait, an igloo! Mista, do you want to help me build one?”

Fugo believed an igloo would be too complicated for him to build. “Maybe you should—”

“Yeah, I’ll build an igloo with you!” Mista agreed.

“ I’ll help you, Narancia,” Trish said.

“If she’s helping, I’m helping,” Sheila said.

Narancia looked at Bruno and Abbacchio. “What about you guys?”

“I’m going to take skiing lessons,” Bucciarati answered. “I asked Abbacchio if he wanted to come with me.”

“I said yes,” Abbacchio spoke. “I’m going to spend most of my time with Bucciarati, and remember to return in about an hour so we can head to the restaurant.”

“Fugo,” spoke Bucciarati, “you and Giorno never skied before. Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

“We both seen videos of people skiing,” he answered.

“You two are the smartest in our group. I guess you two will be fine.”

Bruno, Abbacchio, Giorno, and Fugo headed to the plaza, where the builds were. They needed to rent equipment. Once they got their ski boards and poles, Giorno and Fugo decided to go up the slope while Bruno and Abbacchio took a class. However, the two blonds didn’t take the lift.

“Maybe we should go up a bit before going all the way,” Fugo suggested.

“I’m fine with that,” Giorno replied.

They went slightly uphill with their skis on, having to move sidestep. They could see Mista, Narancia, Trish, and Sheila starting their igloo.

“You think they’ll finish before we go to the Summit House Restaurant?” Giorno asked.

“I don’t think so. Mista and Narancia would hold them back,” Fugo answered. He got into a position, bending his knees slightly. “So, ready to slide down?”

“Yeah!”

They slid down to where the others were building their igloo. Fugo didn’t think it was that thrilling.

“Guys, we should roll a ball of snow,” Trish suggested.

“That’s too much work!” Narancia complained. “My hands are cold!”

“That’s cause you’re not working hard enough,” Sheila said.

Mista noticed the blonds and waved. “Hey, I thought you were going up the slope.”

“We are. We just went down,” Fugo replied. “Narancia, you should listen to Trish. It’ll be easier if you do.”

The 17-year-old boy pouted. “Fine. I don’t see how this will work, but whatever.” He rolled a ball of snow.

“So,” Mista continued, “trying to build the courage to go up the slope.”

“Yeah,” Giorno answered. “I want to get used to the skis. Want to do that five more times, Fugo?”

Fugo was ready to slide halfway down the slope, but he could wait. “Sure.”

Giorno and Fugo went up the hill again and down at least five times. Narancia’s igloo had a few snow blocks stacked in a large circle with the help of a few kids.

“It’s looking nice,” Giorno commented Narancia.

“Hehe, thanks! But I’m going to take a break. My hands are freezing.” Narancia headed inside.

“Are you kidding me?” Sheila responded.

“I don’t blame him,” Trish said. I’m getting cold.”

The two girls hugged each other. Watching them caused Giorno to snuggle against Fugo. “Ready to go halfway up the slope?” Giorno’s turquoise eyes met Fugo’s purple, causing the golden blond to blush.

“Yeah.”

They headed halfway up the slope, where Abbacchio was. Before either of them could ask where Bruno went, the capo slid and crashed into Abbacchio.

“Are you alright?” Giorno asked.

Bruno and Abbacchio got off of each other. “Yeah,” they both answered.

Abbacchio brushed the snow off Bruno and himself. “Hey, you two want to see who will get down first?”

“A race? Sure!” Fugo said. “But does Bucciarati want to do this?”

“Yeah. Giorno’s here to heal us if we get any injuries.”

“Alright,” Abbacchio interrupted, “let’s do this!” He slid down.

“Seriously?” Fugo commented. “At least count down!” He went down, trying to go faster than him.

Bruno and Giorno followed.

Fugo was the first to reach the bottom of the slope, wanting to do that again. Abbacchio came in second, bumping into Narancia’s unfinished igloo and causing distress for the builders. As for Giorno and Bruno, it was hard to tell who came last since they were neck and neck. However, when Giorno reached the bottom, he did not stop as gracefully as his boyfriend, but Fugo caught him. Their faces were an inch from kissing.

Giorno brushed a hair behind his ear and blushed. “Sorry, I saw what happened to the igloo and got distracted.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” Narancia sobbed. “Bucciarati, look what Abbacchio did!”

Abbacchio got up. “Quit laughing, Giorno!” His face was red and angry.

“I’m not laughing,” he replied. “Are you injured?”

“No, I’m fine. Bucciarati, when can we go to the Summit House? I want to go. Now!”

“We head there in 35 minutes. So, everyone, do what you want until then.”

Bruno wasn’t sure if they should take the chair lift to the top of the slope, so he and Abbacchio skied halfway while Narancia, Mista, Trish, and Sheila built snowmen. Fugo wanted to use the lift, and Giorno joined him despite almost crashing into him.

“This is such a nice place.” Fugo admired the scenery. Seattle was interesting, but it was constantly cloudy and cold. Here, it was freezing, but the brightness of the snow brought him joy. Then Giorno wrapped an arm around him, bringing him closer and kissing him.

“We probably won’t have any privacy when we take the gondola,” Giorno said.

“Yeah, and it feels weird having others look at us while we kiss,” Fugo replied.

He kissed him back, making it last longer and holding him tightly. Once they let go, he longed for more. It was time for them to slide down the slopes.

They skied down, the wind howling in their ears and blowing their hair. They were going fast, and Fugo felt the adrenaline running through him. He didn’t know any tricks, but he made a couple of turns, but not enough to slow him down. Fugo reached the bottom of the slope and went back up with his boyfriend. They did this constantly until it was time to head to the restaurant.

-

Bucciarati’s group arrived at the gondola, waiting for a cable car to take them to the restaurant. An empty cable car came, and all eight of them got inside. The car took them upwards to the Summit House. On the way, the group felt the ride sway.

“That makes me nervous,” Sheila commented.

“Don’t worry.” Trish tried to comfort her. “If we fall, Spice Girl can turn the cable car into a parachute.”

Fugo looked at the breathtaking view of the forest and mountains. “Beautiful.”

Trish took photos with her camera.

“Are we there yet?” Narancia complained. Everyone sighed. “What?”

“We just got on!” Mista replied.

“Well, I’m hungry. I already know what I’m going to get. I want that root vegetable pastry.”

“You already know what’s on the menu?” Abbacchio asked.

“Fugo and I searched online.”

“Dude, can you stop talking about food,” Mista complained. “I’m getting hungry.”

And like that, everyone shut up and enjoyed the view until the ride stopped at the destination. The group poured out of the cable car and into the restaurant. They sat near a window with a view of Mount Rainier. Fugo sat with Giorno, as usual, and they gazed at the scenery. The clouds had already broken, and the blue sky shyly showed itself.

Fugo closed his eyes and took a whiff of the air, smelling the bacon aroma. Their waiter, a redheaded woman, handed them a menu, and they examined the entrees. The bacon aroma must be from the smoked pork chop. Perhaps he’ll get that.

The waiter returned, asking what they wanted. Fugo wanted the pork chops, while Giorno wanted the Alaskan halibut. Narancia ordered the meal he wanted, and Mista got the New York steak.

“I’ll have the pasta Aretine,” Bruno said to the waiter.

“Really? Pasta?” Abbacchio questioned.

“I like eating prosciutto.”

“Alright, suit yourself. Oh, waiter, I’ll have the grilled lamb chops.”

“You’re not going to have any wine?”

“Someone needs to drive, and it’s my turn.”

“Braised short ribs for me,” Sheila ordered.

“Line caught Alaskan king salmon,” Trish told the waiter.

She went away.

“Oh boy, it’s going to be a while for our order to arrive,” Giorno commented. He looked at his boyfriend and smiled, grabbing his hand under the table. “Fugo, you seemed to have fun while skiing.”

“Yeah, and I enjoyed my time with you too.”

Abbacchio stuck his tongue out, pretending to gag. “Narancia, what made you decide to get what you ordered?”

“Well, everything else was meat,” Narancia answered. “I could’ve maybe gotten the soup or mushroom toast, but that won’t fill me up. Of course, I could’ve gotten a chocolate mousse, but that’s dessert and also won’t fill me up.”

“You could’ve ordered maybe two or three,” Mista responded. “Wait, why didn’t I do that?”

“Too late to change your orders,” Bruno said. “Anyways, Abbacchio, did you enjoy skiing?”

“Not really.”

Mista giggled. “You’re just mad because you lost to Fugo.”

“And you destroyed our igloo,” Narancia reminded him.

Trish sighed. “We’re heading to Bellingham tomorrow, right, Bucciarati?”

“Yeah, you wanted to see the Mount Baker Theatre,” he reminded her. “Did you change your mind?”

“Well…” She looked at Sheila.

“We heard there were ghosts,” Sheila said.

“Ghosts? Yeah, right,” Abbacchio commented. Bruno elbow-jabbed him in the stomach. “Ow! I mean, that’s interesting.”

“Agreed,” Fugo said. “Giorno and I searched for ghost stories. I heard of a girl in Morioh, Japan became a murder victim and now haunts a convenience store. They say some people see a path to a neighborhood that isn’t on the map.”

“What? No way!” Narancia sounded scared.

“Oh yes, and I read that a lot of people disappear. Two years ago, a kid named Shigekiyo Yangu disappeared.”

“Someone has to be looking for him,” Abbacchio said. “Did you read about what happened to this kid?”

“His parents couldn’t find him,” Fugo answered.

“He’s probably dead,” Mista said.

“Mista!” Bruno raised his voice.

“What? That’s probably true.”

“Sorry, but a serial killer probably killed him,” Giorno added. “I read that majority of the missing people in Morioh were women. This kid probably saw the killer.”

“Then what happened to the killer?” Abbacchio asked.

“I want to say this killer was probably a stand user. Stand users attract other stand users, so somebody probably stopped them.”

“Fugo, what do you think?” Abbacchio continued to question.

“I think the same thing. Anyways, we chatted long enough. Our food is here.”

The waiter placed their food down.

“Wow, this is a lot of food,” Trish commented. “Wait, guys! Don’t eat yet. Let’s take a picture!”

Narancia was about to dig in. “Aw, come on. Now?”

“It’ll take a few seconds.”

Trish took out her camera and took a photo of the group with herself included. “There, done! That didn’t take too long. Once we finish eating, does anyone want to take a group photo with the mountain?”

“Why not,” Bruno responded. “Let’s create more memories.”

Trish smiled.

-

Once everybody finished eating, they headed outside to the outdoor dining area, where nobody could photobomb them. Trish took photos of everyone individually and then herself. Giorno was the one to take a shot of her. Next, Giorno handed Trish the camera and photographed Bucciarati and Abbacchio hugging, then Fugo, Narancia, and Mista together soon after. All of them had a smile in the photo.

“Fugo, step aside,” Narancia said. “I want Trish to take a photo of me with Mista.”

The golden blond obliged and stood next to Giorno, who stayed away from the shot.

Mista gave Narancia bunny ears before Trish could take a photo, causing her to giggle.

Trish handed the camera to Giorno again. “Take a photo of Sheila and me together.”

Trish and Sheila held each other tightly, their cheeks touching and lips puckered. They both had one of their legs sticking out in the air. Giorno took the photo and returned the camera.

“Now, Giorno, pose with Fugo. Get close,” she requested.

Fugo and Giorno stood together. On the chair lift, Giorno surprised him with a kiss. It seems fair to return the favor. Abbacchio must’ve noticed because he turned around. He did this when he thought the two were going to kiss. While Giorno was smiling at the camera, Fugo turned his head and kissed his cheek.

“Perfect!” Trish cheered. “Beautiful.” She handed Giorno the camera, so he and his boyfriend could look.

“Can I turn around now?” Abbacchio asked.

Bruno sighed. “Yes. Alright, everyone. We’re going to head back down. Make sure to use the restrooms before you go.”

Everyone went away except for Giorno and Fugo, who wanted to spend more time alone together.

“I had fun skiing,” Fugo said to Giorno, hugging him again. “Did you?”

“Yeah, I want to do that again,” he answered. “I would convince Bucciarati to let us stay for a while, but the drive back is two hours. I’m getting cold, and we should go before they forget us.”

Giorno tried to walk away, but his boyfriend grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“They won’t forget us,” he said before embracing and kissing him deeply. “Warm now?”

“A little. We can cuddle a bit more when we get to the hotel.”

Liurnia's Burger King

It was a quiet day at the world’s biggest Burger King, which was strange because it was the only Burger King in Liurnia. Sellen stood behind the counter, waiting for somebody to open the door. Latenna usually worked at the counter, but she died. Funny but scary enough, if Sellen died, Rennala, the manager, would have to drag her body outside and bury her. Normally that would scare possible new hires, but it didn’t stop people from applying.

“Quiet day,” a voice behind her said.

She jumped and turned around. It was Seluvis, the cook. His mask was different than the rest of the employees. All of them, except for Thops and Ranni, wore a giant Burger King headwear. “Yeah.” She didn’t like him.

“At least Radahn isn’t here. If I have to flip 50 burgers, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Seluvis returned to the kitchen, leaving Sellen alone. Except she wasn’t going to be alone for long.

Jerren entered the Burger King and stared at her, furrowing his brows.

She sighed. There is no such thing as a quiet day, she thought. About a week ago, Sellen had given Jerren the wrong order. He asked for no pickles, but when he noticed there was a pickle in his burger, he had a tantrum and threw his meal at her. The ketchup and mustard ruined her dark blue uniform. Angered, she threw a book she was reading at him, and a fight started. Her co-workers assisted her in getting rid of Jerren by hitting him with books. Poor Thops had to clean the mess up.

The old geezer stood on the other side of the counter menacingly.

“W-welcome to Burger King. What can I get you?”

In other Burger Kings, there would be a menu above the cashier, but this was Liurnia. The ceiling was too high, so people had to look through a worn book on the counter.

“I’ll have the Italian Royal Crispy Chicken,” he said.

“Will that be all?”

“I’ll have the sweetened iced tea.”

“That will be $7.28.”

He handed her some cash and sat down somewhere.

“Did you hear that, Seluvis?” she asked into the headwear’s mic.

“Yes, yes, I heard you.”

-

At the Lake-Facing Cliffs, three people stood near the site of grace. One wore a pot on his head, another wore knight armor, and the other wore a war surgeon set.

“Alright, guys,” the one wearing the war surgeon set said, “it’s Take Your Children to Work Day at Burger King, and Rennala brought her kids to work. So, you guys know what to do, right? We’re—”

“Going to beat the shit out of them,” the other two shouted, their fists in the air.

“That’s right! Because I love beating the shit out of children. Alright, gang, let’s beat up some Burger King employees and children!”

-

Seluvis sweated behind his mask and looked at his creation. “Ah, the perfect chicken sandwich.”

Then he heard Ranni through the headset under his mask. “It’s Radhan. He’s back, and this time he wants 51 triple Whoppers.”

He sighed. “Thops, give this chicken sandwich to Sellen.”

Thops stopped sweeping and looked at him. “But I don’t want to go down the water wheel.”

“Then look at your map and teleport to the grace in the Church of Cuck or whatever. I got burgers to flip.”

“The Church of the Cuckoo.” The bald man took the sandwich and sighed, teleporting to Sellen’s location. There, he gave handed the chicken sandwich to her.

“Sir, your order is here,” Sellen alerted Jerren.

Jerren got up, took the sandwich, and headed for the exit.

“Have a nice day.”

Thops teleported to the schoolhouse classroom site of grace, hoping to stay away from Seluvis.

It was back to being quiet in Burger King until three people opened the large door.

“Clear the path for me!” the surgeon yelled.

A couple of marionette soldiers and Burger King employees tried to stop them, but they were no match for the three. The pothead cast magic while the knight swung his magic sword around. The surgeon touched the site of grace. Luckily for Sellen, she knew them and wasn’t harmed, but she did feel the searing heat of the knight’s magic sword.

“Go, go, go!” yelled the surgeon. “We have to get past the graveyard and up the wheel.”

The three left, leaving a shaken Sellen all by herself. They avoided the undead Burger King employees and hopped on the water wheel. Once they jumped off, they noticed a sleeping Thops but ignored him and rushed to the kitchen.

On the way to the kitchen, the cookbooks on the shelves distracted the knight. “Why do they have so many cookbooks?”

“Because they’re nerds,” answered the surgeon.

After slicing and dicing more employees, they reached the debate room where Seluvis cooked. The knight took off his helmet and started fanning himself while the surgeon looked at his map to figure out where to go. The pothead, enticed by the warm freshly-made burgers on the table, took off his pot and chowed down.

After eating all he could, his stomach growled. “Oh, I think I’m going to regret that.”

“We have to take the stairs on the right,” the surgeon said. “There’ll be a boulder, so watch out.”

They ran out of the kitchen right when Seluvis turned around to notice the lack of burgers on the table.

“Goddamn it! I’m losing my mind! Ugh, I should’ve just made questionable potions for a living.” He turned on his mic. “What the hell is going on? Which one of you ate the burgers?”

“Okay, I can explain,” Sellen spoke through the mic. “Three guys came in and slaughtered everyone. I think they were trying to speak with the manager.”

“Wait, why would they want to speak with the manager?” Ranni asked. “Unless—oh no!”

“Ranni? Ranni!” yelled Seluvis. She didn’t reply. “Damn it! Thops? Thops! Someone answer me! Somebody needs to work at the window. Sellen, nobody goes to the counter anymore, right? Could you head to the window and give Radhan his burgers once I finish cooking?”

“Alright, but you owe me.”

Sellen couldn’t help but smile evilly behind her headwear. With Rennala indisposed, she could become the new manager and hire Azur and Lusat. Then Sellen would have control of Liurnia’s Burger King, and nobody will stop her. She turned off her mic to laugh evilly.

-

The three stood in the waters of an unknown place with the moon in their view. The surgeon removed his mask to wipe the sweat on his face and then quickly put it back on, turning around to face his comrades. “Excellent work, you two! After this, want to head to the Grand Dick of Dectus?”

“Lift of Dectus,” corrected the knight. “I have the halves to the lift.”

“I have the left side of the medallion,” said the pothead. “But I don’t have the right. Where do I find that?”

“Have you checked in Fort Faroth?” asked the knight. “If not, I can help you locate it.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m not sure where it is.”

“We’re fading away! Head to the Third Church of Markia in Limgrave. I’ll show you.”

The knight and pothead faded away.

Neon Blue and Purple - Chapter 5: Cluster Fuck

Kirsten and a few gang members cleaned the mess up at the garage.

“Did the zombies kill Lucas, or was it the Saints’ boss?” one asked.

She sighed. “It doesn’t matter, but they couldn’t have gone far.”

“I’m sure one of the assassins will get their boss,” a different gang member said.

“Not just their boss, Matt too. The boss will chase after Matt, but what if he dies before he can save him? Do you want to know the funny part? The Saints have a list of assassination targets, so I hired them to assassinate the boss.”

“Seems like he’s screwed.”

“Oh, he’s definitely screwed because I’m going to make sure he dies! I am one of his targets, after all.”

-

Dan drove at max speed, rushing to get into the penthouse before Matt could get caught in his shitstorm. They were currently downtown.

“I think I saw a VTOL outside,” Matt warned.

“STAG isn’t welcomed in this city anymore. I know we just heard the news about people wanting them back, but isn’t there some process or some shit for them to come back?”

Laser beams came out of the sky, destroying anyone and anything in the way. To add more of their troubles, one of Oleg’s clones charged at their car, stopping it.

“I am Brutus,” he said. “I help. Must stop the bad guys!”

“Wait, I know you!” Matt said. “He’s friendly, too friendly. I’m surprised he wants to help. Barry wanted him dead.”

“You hear that, Brutus?” Dan asked. “Matt thinks you’re too nice. Show us what you got!”

Luckily for Brutus, a police car with its sirens on approached. A policeman stood outside the vehicle, opening his door, taking cover, and pointing his gun at them.

“This is Lieutenant Gorshin,” he spoke on the loudspeaker. “Step out of the car, now! Hands up where I can see them!”

Brutus leaped and landed on the car, squishing the police officer with his large body.

Dan clapped. “Well done! Welcome aboard. Sorry, we don’t have any room, though.”

Then another person showed up. He wore a superhero costume.

“You’re no match for Blaize!” he said, charging towards their car.

Dan shot him in the head, leaving him dead.

“What was that?” Matt questioned, almost laughing.

“I think Pierce told me about this guy once.” Dan was about to drive off when he noticed Brutus missing. “Where did he—”

The clone placed a pickup truck in front of them. “Drive,” Brutus ordered.

They got out of the car, but someone tried to snipe at the boss before they could enter. Panicking, Matt got behind the vehicle. The three struggled to find the sniper until they listened to their surroundings. A helicopter flew around, despite the chaos in the city.

“Fucking hell!” Matt whined. “That’s Grigor! Oh shit!”

Brutus got a look at the pilot. “Barry!” He then picked up the car Dan previously drove and launched it at the helicopter. It exploded upon impact.

“My ride!” Dan yelled.

Matt scurried inside the truck, sitting in the passenger seat. “Can we please just fucking leave?”

Brutus got in the back, and Dan drove to the penthouse. Once there, everything was calm. Matt sat on the couch, watching the destruction unfold, and Oleg’s clone sat with him and watched the television; a show targeted towards small children was on. Its theme played, and he clapped along.

“Who’s driving that VTOL?” Matt asked, looking at Dan.

He looked at his phone. “Sergent Steiner, I think.”

“There have to be more assassins. Do you think they will come?”

“Judging from the mayhem that VTOL is causing, I think some of them might be dead. That, and it’s been two years. Some of the targets are probably dead and rotting.”

Matt brought out his phone, looking at the security footage. “Maybe I’m a bit paranoid. You surprise me, Dan. You’re impossible to defeat. Loren didn’t know who he was fucking with.” Something fast moved in the camera. “Shit, Kirsten is here!”

Dan approached him and looked at the phone.

“She’s not in that footage anymore!” Matt said. “She probably took the stairs.”

The security cam Matt was looking at was on the first floor. Strangely, Burt Reynolds was there with a rocket launcher. Someone probably sent him to deal with the VTOL problem. Right now, they had to take care of their uninvited guess. Dan searched through every camera in the building, but there was no sign of her.

“Looking for me?” Kirsten commented.

Dan looked away from his phone. She had a pistol pointed at Matt’s head. Brutus was too busy watching his show to do anything.

“Kirsten,” Dan said, “don’t do this.”

She slowly backed herself to the helipad. “Tell me why.”

“I’ll fucking kill you if you do.”

“I’ve seen you tried to kill our specialist. Your aim is shit, but me? I won’t miss.”

Next to Dan’s face was an arm holding a pistol. The stranger fired, shooting Kirsten in the forehead. Dan turned around to face who did it.

“I don’t miss either,” Burt Reynolds said. “How are you doing?”

“I—I’m doing fine,” Dan replied, flabbergasted.

“Oh my god,” Matt said, walking up to him. “You saved my life!”

“Yeah, well, there’s a VTOL looking straight at us.” Burt held his rocket launder. “Can you two move?”

Matt and Dan moved over, letting Burt target the aircraft. Once the Steiner realized what was up, he tried to fly away, but the rocket launcher had a targeting system. It took down the VTOL.

“Thanks,” the two said.

“No problem. I’ll be on my way.”

Dan’s phone rang. He picked it up.

“Boss,” Shaundi said, “Killbane dead.”

“Shaundi! I thought I’d never hear your voice again. I heard Viola getting kidnapped on the phone, and I thought the same happened to you.”

“Oh, it happened, but I took care of it.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I’ll make sure Pierce gets rewarded.”

“Pierce? He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe you did it?”

“You know what? I’m tired.”

Shaundi hung up.

“Good news, Matt, Killbane’s done and dealt with, finally. We have the whole city to ourselves!”

Dan held Matt close, hugging him from behind, and admired the view of the city. Some buildings in the distance were on fire, and a skyscraper collapsed.

“What the hell was Steiner even aiming at?” Matt commented.

Neon Blue and Purple - Chapter 4: Lucas and Pr0tip

Earlier before.

Pr0tip and Lucas were on the helipad, watching the sunset and letting the breeze caress them. Two Specters were with them. Pr0tip approached one of them, hands touching to admire. It was clean and shiny.

“We should’ve had something like this long ago,” he commented.

“With Kirsten as our leader, she’ll help us reclaim territory and more,” Lucas said.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about Kirsten. I want Matt with me.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I like him. I like him a lot.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“I don’t have to explain why I like him. Can we keep him?”

“Yeesh, you make it sound like Matt’s a dog. Kirsten’s fine with him, so long as he’s not a part of the gang.”

Pr0tip checked his smartphone, looking at Matt’s location. “He just got out of the hospital. I think their boss is taking them to the penthouse.”

“Alright, at night, we’ll strike,” Lucas said.

“And then we’ll take care of the boss?”

“I don’t know if I can do it myself. He’s a one-man army. Wait, what if we got one of the zombies to do it?”

“But he survived on that island! He’ll just wipe out the rest of them!”

“Except he was only fighting zombies, not gang members. I doubt he could handle both.”

-

Matt awoke on a couch, touching the spot where he got bonked. “Where am I? Dan?”

“Dan?” said a familiar voice. “Is that the boss’ name?”

Shit.

He looked around him, realizing he was in the nuclear reactor. Lucas and Pr0tip stood in front of him.

“Oh, Matt, you’re awake,” Pr0tip said. His smile made Matt uncomfortable. “A shame you prefer Dan, but he’ll be gone soon.” He then sat next to him.

“I’ll be in the garage, trying to tame the zombies,” Lucas said. He left the two alone and headed to the elevator.

“Wait, Lucas, come back!” Matt cried out.

“No, Matt, Pr0tip cared about you, but you cared more about our rival’s boss,” he said, not looking at him. “We could’ve done some gangster shit, but all you care about is your Nyte Blayde fanfiction. Seriously, Matt, grow up.”

That hurt Matt. Instead of trying to insult him, he sat in silence.

“Matt,” Pr0tip called out, “you can’t be in the gang anymore, but I’m still here. I care about you.” He placed a hand on his cheek.

Matt brushed him away. “But I don’t want you. I want Dan.”

Pr0tip furrowed his brows. “Fuck Dan!” He brought out his gun and shot the ceiling, causing Matt to bounce from his seat. “I’m here now! Pay attention to me! Dan is dead! Or he will be once he gets here. Do you understand?” He pointed his gun at Matt’s head. Beads of sweat began to form, and Matt’s heart pounded.

-

A few minutes after the kidnapping.

“Oi, Matt,” Dan called out, holding some popcorn, “I hope you like cheddar.”

He walked back into the living room, but Matt wasn’t there. Then he saw two Specters fly off.

“Aw shit.”

Dan headed to the elevator, went to the garage, and drove one of his fastest vehicles, chasing the Specters. They were flying northwest to the nuclear reactor.

After speeding past red lights, driving on the wrong side of the road to avoid traffic, and shooting Deckers in their territory, he made it to the reactor.

Dan parked in their garage, but something felt off. The parking lot was empty except for these cages with people in them. He approached them closer and realized they were bloodied and rotting but still moving.

“Shit, zombies?” Dan’s voice echoed.

An undead brute started banging on the cages, making Dan run to his car.

Then the elevator dinged, and somebody stepped out. It was Lucas, but he wore a Deckers uniform instead of purple.

“Hey, calm down,” Lucas said to the brute. “Don’t damage the cage. Pr0tip wanted you here, and I’m not letting Kirsten have our heads for this decision.” Then he looked at the car, curious.

Dan continued hiding. Those names rang a bell in his memory. On a day he couldn’t remember, Kinzie argued with him about the assassination targets, saying they needed to die as soon as possible. He looked at his phone, checking to see if he had killed any of them by accident. All 36 targets were alive and well.

Suddenly, the brute busted the cage, grabbing and pounding the traitor to the ground. His screams echoed, but the brute’s roar was deafening. Seeing no other option, Dan shot at the brute.

The brute charged at him, but he dodged. It then picked up the car, swinging it around aimlessly until it threw it at the cages, freeing the other zombies.

Before the crowd of zombies could separate, Dan threw a grenade and then focused on the brute. He made sure to aim at the head. Bang! Bang! Bang! The zombie brute was relentless, but it fell. The whole garage was a bloody mess.

Dan was unsure what the Deckers had in store for Matt, but he knew he couldn’t waste time. He regretted upgrading the nuclear reactor. Matt could be anywhere.

Then he got a text message.

-

“You can stop pointing your gun at me,” Matt said to Pr0tip.

They were in the bedroom. Matt sat on the bed while Pr0tip sat on the chair.

“No, now take off those pants,” he demanded.

“What? No! What the hell? You’re sick!”

“I’m sexually frustrated, Matt. You don’t know what it’s like! I’ve been with you ever since you formed the gang. You’ve been ignoring me for too long! You’re no longer the leader, and I have a gun to your head. Give me what I’m due!”

Matt couldn’t believe it. Pr0tip was going to rape him. “C-could we at least kiss first, please?”

Pr0tip giggled and put the gun down. “You like it nice and slow, huh? Alright, I’m down for a slow fuck.”

Matt’s heart raced as he placed a hand on his thigh. Pr0tip’s other hand pushed him down into the bed. Then he began kissing his neck, making Matt feel violated. Tears gathered around his eyes until he spotted Pr0tip’s phone in his butt pocket. Matt quickly swiped his phone, texted Dan’s number where he was, and slid it back into his pocket. You’re going to regret this, fucker! Pr0tip withdrew from the kiss and noticed his tears.

“Don’t be sad,” he said. “You can call me Nyte Blayde.”

I wanted to be called Nyte Blayde, he said internally. “Could I go to the bathroom, please? I look like a mess.”

“You look fine the way you are.”

“Bullshit. Please, let me clean myself up. Let me go to the bathroom.”

Pr0tip had an angry look and pouted. “Fine.”

Matt went into the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror. His tears from before had caused his eyeliner to run down his cheeks. He washed it off, feeling refreshed. He should wash his face more often. Dear heavens, he looked like pepperoni pizza.

Before Matt could return to the bedroom, he heard gunshots and screams. That had to be Dan. He slowly creaked the door open and spotted Dan standing next to Pr0tip’s bullet-riddled body.

Matt opened the door, mortified at the scene. “Jesus!” he panicked. “Such brutality!” He wanted him to pay, but he was unprepared to witness death.

“Matt,” Dan said, grabbing his attention, “let’s go!"

The former Deckers leader stood in shock. Dan had to grab his hand, taking him to the elevator. He sighed. “I don’t know how someone like you ended up being a gang leader, but get a grip! There’s a more gruesome scene in the garage.”

“Killbane,” Matt responded.

Dan stopped. “Don’t worry. My gang will take care of him. Why did you mention him?”

“Oh shit, your gang is fucked! Did you ever completely take over the city?”

“Well, since you fled the city, your territory was easy pickings. Viola turned into a traitor, so removing the city of the Morning Stars became a lot easier. The Luchadors were tougher to handle, but we took care of them.”

“Some of us were still here. There could be a chance that the Morning Stars and Luchadors are still present.”

Dan sighed. “Gosh, you sound like Kinzie and Viola. They keep nagging me about the assassination targets.”

“Can we just—can we head home, please? I want to sleep for three days.”

He chuckled. “Sure.”

They headed to the garage and drove back home. While on the road, Dan had the radio station tuned to 106.66, but then breaking news interrupted his music.

“I am standing outside the airport, dressed in police gear, as multiple gunshots go off in the distance. Witnesses said soon as Eddie Pryor’s plane landed, a gang rolled up and shot at his private security. Others have speculated this is gang activity, shouting a return for STAG. I’m Jane Valderamma, Channel 6 News.”

“They still haven’t killed them?” Dan commented.

“I should’ve stayed out of Steelport,” Matt responded, sinking in his chair.

“Don’t worry, Matt. I won’t let him harm a single hair on you.”

Dan’s phone rang, and he picked it up, hearing an explosion.

“Kinzie, if this is about Killbane, I know you haven’t killed him already,” Dan said.

“Well, gee, hi to you too,” she replied. “You know Kirsten, the one I asked you to assassinate two years back? She wants you dead and hired some people to do it for her. I told you to take care of those assassination targets!”

“This is not a good time.”

“Is it ever? Boss, you should’ve taken care of that. It’s your fault things got the way they are.”

Before he could reply, she hung up.

“I’m taking you to the penthouse,” Dan said to Matt. “I got business to take care of.”

-

After Dan and Matt left.

Kirsten drove to the nuclear reactor’s garage. She would’ve skated there, but she was tired. As soon as she saw blood and pieces of bodies scattered around, she was on edge. Lucas’ mangled body lay in front of her car. Panicking, she dialed Pr0tip, but he didn’t answer. She checked the security cameras for footage of what happened, finding Dan killing her gang members.

Angered, she dialed some numbers.

Neon Blue and Purple - Chapter 3: Movie Nyte

“Dan Alec Adcock?” Matt giggled.

“Shut up. I should’ve never told you my last name.”

The Deckers continued shooting at their Emu, eventually popping one of their tires. Acting quickly, Dan drove the car into the highway.

“Damn it!” Dan yelled.

The car could still move, but sparks started flying where the tire got popped. The rim grated against the asphalt, irritating Dan and Matt.

“God, I hate that sound,” he complained.

“I’d close my ears if I could lift my other arm,” Matt commented.

Dan looked at his shoulder. Too much blood had escaped from his wound.

“I’m taking you to a hospital first.”

“I thought you were taking me to your penthouse first!”

“It’ll be quick!”

Matt sighed. “There’s one in Loren Square.” But before he could relax, he noticed the Deckers’ roadblock ahead. “Dan!”

“I see!”

He drove on the other side of the road, driving on the wrong side of the lane. A few drivers got pissed at him and honked their horns. It looks like he was going to Loren Square, considering the Deckers never had that territory in the first place. Matt kept holding his shoulder, still panicking. Dan picked up his phone while driving and called Shaundi.

“Hey, Shaundi,” Dan greeted.

“This Viola. Shaundi is busy at the moment.” He could hear gunshots in the background.

“Is Killbane dead yet?”

“No, not yet.” She sighed. “Could you get over here? We need your help!”

“Um, I’d come, but—”

“Let go!”

The call ended, and Dan facepalmed.

“Not again.”

Matt looked at Dan, concerned. “What happened?”

“I think Viola got grabbed. Someone probably kidnapped her. I don’t know. I’m just guessing here.”

“Do you think STAG will return?”

“Nah, doubt. If so, I bet Monica won’t be pleased.”

“Well,” Matt continued speaking, “everything seems calm.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “After this, you want to join the gang? Maybe once I take you to the hospital and take you back to my place, do you want to—”

“I think I know where this is going.” Matt smiled. He was sure he was talking about sex. “The answer is yes.”

Dan smiled also. “Lovely.”

-

Kirsten was at the nuclear reactor, helping the other gang members clean up.

“I thought the explosion would’ve been bigger,” Lucas said to her while sweeping the floors.

“Are you out of your mind? Did you think I wanted the entire thing to blow? We don’t need another Chernobyl.” Kirsten then looked out of the window, through the side not covered in plastic. A bunch of Specters was outside. “Excellent.” She smiled.

Lucas took a look outside. “Wow. We’re getting shit done faster than when we were with Matt.”

They heard the elevator. Pr0tip was there.

“Yo, Kirsten,” Pr0tip said, “you wouldn’t fucking believe what I found from searching the STAG database! We can have freaking zombies, man! Please, can we do it? Can we have zombies in our gang?”

Kirsten looked at him. A wide smile was on his face. “No, look at what STAG did to Arapice Island!”

Pr0tip frowned.

“How about we use them as a last resort,” Lucas suggested.

Pr0tip smiled again. “Come on, Kirsten! They can be useful, please!”

Kirsten sighed. “Fine, we’ll use them in an emergency.”

Pr0tip cheered, but then he looked at the covered hole in the window. “Is Matt still alive?”

“Yeah, but we’ll get him,” Kirsten told him.

“You’re not worried he’s going to hack us?”

“Didn’t you want him alive?”

“Yeah…but could he be a part of the gang again?”

“Hell no!” Kirsten stopped sweeping the floors and glared at him. “And don’t beg! I already gave you your zombies.”

“So, you aren’t going to kill him?”

“I kept my word. I won’t kill Matt, but I will defend myself if he tries anything.”

“Can I keep him around?”

“Look, I don’t care what you do with Matt, but he’s not one of us anymore.”

Pr0tip had his phone number and could track him.

“Hey, Lucas,” the gamer said, “are those Specters difficult to fly?”

-

Matt watched Nyte Blayde with Dan, who dozed off. Matt had his clothes on while Dan was in the nude. According to Dan, he occasionally walks around naked around the penthouse. It wasn’t his first time seeing naked, however. He wasn’t going to tell him that, though.

Then Matt’s stomach grumbled.

“Hey.” He poked Dan awake. “You don’t mind making popcorn, do you?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

Dan got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Matt continued watching the TV until he heard a bottle breaking. It sounded like it came from behind. He checked, but nobody was there.

“Dan?”

Somebody bonked Matt in the head, knocking him unconscious.

Infiltration Day 7 (Bad)

Day 7

Doppio left the hotel earlier than usual to meet Risotto at a parking lot. Once he entered his car, Risotto drove to an apartment vandalized with graffiti, which looked run down.

“You live here? Is it safe?” Doppio asked.

“Safe for me,” he answered. “People know not to bother me. Keep close to me. My apartment is on the fourth floor.”

The two got out of the car, and Doppio followed Risotto closely, but the other residents intrigued him. A couple argued in their home, unaware they were being loud, someone sat on the dirty floor next to a used needle, and a crying child was left unsupervised.

“Charming place,” Doppio commented.

“I could always move. I saved enough money, but I’m used to places like this.”

They stopped at the door, and Risotto unlocked it. It was a tidy studio apartment. He kept a few band posters on the wall.

“Has anyone broken into your apartment?”

“Yes,” he answered and plopped himself on the couch, “and they paid for it. There haven’t been any attempts since. I also don’t keep anything valuable except for the TV, but I doubt anyone would want that old thing.”

Doppio sat down with him and looked at the band posters again. “You like Metallica a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, named my stand after them. I don’t think you’ve told me your stand’s name. What is it?”

“It’s Epitaph. I named it after a King Crimson song.” Doppio’s had started pounding. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”

“Is it another headache again? Maybe you should—”

“I got this!”

He got up and headed to the bathroom.

-

Something wasn’t right with Doppio. Although Risotto barely knew him, Doppio was kind and almost reminded him of Pesci. He didn’t expect him to snap like that, and his expression was so angry.

Risotto got up from his seat, turned invisible, and tried to eavesdrop outside the bathroom.

“Are you trying to blow my cover?” Doppio whispered loud enough for him to hear. “Let me spend more time with him, please!”

“Doppio,” said an unknown voice, “I have warned you time and time again to stay away from Risotto!”

“Boss, just pay them. They’ll leave you alone!”

Shit, Prosciutto was right! Risotto thought. We do have an infiltrator, but that voice. Why does he sound like he’s right there?

“My adorable Doppio, your usefulness has come to an end. I can no longer rely on you.”

Risotto couldn’t believe it. He has heard of Multiple Personality Disorder and didn’t expect the boss to have it. He should’ve been wary, but he’ll fix this somehow.

“Metallica!”

-

“Risotto’s not picking up his phone,” Prosciutto said.

“This isn’t good. The security cameras are destroyed!” Melone panicked. “Shit, Prosciutto, you were right to be cautious around Doppio!”

“I doubt a little guy like him could defeat Risotto,” Illuso commented.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the little guy,” Formaggio replied.

“Quit talking about Doppio like that!” Pesci said. “He’s nice to me.”

“He had to be nice to all of us. That’s what infiltrators do!” Melone said. “And Ghiaccio, didn’t you say Doppio had green eyes?”

“I made a mistake,” he said.

“You didn’t. I saw it too! I think he might have Multiple Personality Disorder. There’s more to him that we don’t know!”

“I think Risotto can handle himself,” Prosciutto said. “But to make sure, Illuso, Ghiaccio, you should head over there.”

Infiltration Day 7 (Good)

Day 7

Doppio left the hotel early to meet Risotto at a parking lot. Once he entered his car, Risotto drove to an apartment vandalized with graffiti, which looked run down.

“You live here? Is it safe?” Doppio asked.

“Safe for me,” he answered. “People know not to bother me. Keep close to me. My apartment is on the fourth floor.”

The two got out of the car, and Doppio followed Risotto closely, but the other residents intrigued him. A couple argued in their home, unaware they were being loud, someone sat on the dirty floor next to a used needle, and a crying kid was left unsupervised.

“Charming place,” Doppio commented.

“I could always move. I saved enough money, but I’m used to places like this.”

They stopped at the door, and Risotto unlocked it. It was a tidy studio apartment. He kept a few band posters on the wall.

“Has anyone broken into your apartment?”

“Yes,” he answered and plopped himself on the couch, “and they paid for it. There haven’t been any attempts since. I also don’t keep anything valuable except for the TV, but I doubt anyone would want that old thing.”

Doppio sat down with him and looked at the band posters again. “You like Metallica a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, named my stand after them. I don’t think you’ve told me your stand’s name. What is it?”

“It’s—turururu!” Fuck, not right now!

Risotto tilted his head, trying to understand him.

“I, uh, need to go to the bathroom. Somewhere. Anywhere.”

Doppio ran to the bathroom, closed the door, and used the soap bar as a phone.

-

This was the second time Doppio had done this. Something was going on, and Risotto started to regret inviting him into his home. He could kill him, but he believed he should try to understand what was going on first.

Risotto got up from his seat, turned invisible, and tried to eavesdrop outside the bathroom.

“Are you trying to blow my cover?” Doppio whispered loud enough for him to hear. “Let me spend more time with him, please!”

“Doppio,” said an unknown voice, “I have warned you time and time again to stay away from Risotto!”

“Boss, just pay them. They’ll leave you alone!”

Shit, Prosciutto was right! Risotto thought. We do have an infiltrator, but that voice. Why does the boss sound like he’s right there?

“I need you to put the scissors down!” the boss quietly shouted. “What are you doing?”

“Cutting you off, Diavolo.”

“What did you say?”

Curious, Risotto opened the door. “Are you—” Pink hair was on the tile floor. “What did you do?”

“I had a headache and cut my hair,” Doppio answered, touching his hair. His hair was now shoulder-length. “My headache is gone now, and I feel much better. But were you listening to the conversation?”

“With the boss?” Risotto answered.

Doppio’s mouth frowned. “I’m sorry for lying to you and your squad.”

Risotto should be mad, but he wasn’t, as if his problems had just vanished. He wasn’t sure what happened, but he believed Doppio had Multiple Personality Disorder and might’ve “killed” the boss. That would explain why Doppio’s muscles seemed to expand when he and Melone talked the day before yesterday.

“I’m scared,” Doppio admitted, hugging him. “I don’t want to die. You’re going to kill me, right? We’ll stop the boss somehow. Please, just say something.”

Risotto hugged him back. “I’m not going to kill you. Don’t tell anyone about what happened, though. As for the boss, I don’t think he’ll bother us.”

“What? What makes you think that? We need to go after him!”

Risotto's phone rang.

“Shit, it’s the boss!” Doppio panicked.

“Relax, the boss only calls you. It’s probably Prosciutto.” He picked up the phone. “What is it?”

“Melone has been asking if you’re okay,” Prosciutto answered. “He said Doppio had been acting strangely in your bathroom when he last checked.”

Right, he forgot about the security cameras. “He’s fine. No need to worry.”

“One more thing, the boss has a daughter.”

“If you’re thinking about kidnapping and questioning her, forget it. The boss would want all traces of his past eliminated. He has no connections to her.”

“We can’t say no to this!”

“I think we can.” Risotto covered the phone with his hand. “Doppio, the boss trusted you. What could we do to earn some money?”

“We could ambush the narcotics division, but the boss might call L’Unità Speciale on us. Carne, Cioccolata, and Secco might give us trouble.”

Risotto uncovered the phone. “How about we attack the narcotics division? Let’s see how the boss reacts.”

Infiltration (Day 1 - 6)

Day 1

“Is that him, boss?” Doppio asked on the phone, looking at Risotto Nero through his hotel window.

“Yes, you are to get close to him and know every move he and his team make against me. I’ll lend you some of my abilities. Can you do that, my sweet Doppio?”

“Of course, boss. Do I ask to join him?”

“No need. I’ll message Risotto to expect a newcomer. That will be you. Try and get close to Risotto.”

“Will do, boss!”

-

Risotto returned to their hideout and went into his office. He should relax, but maybe their boss might give them something to do. Checking his computer, he got a message. He hoped somebody needed to die today, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, the boss informed Risotto that a newcomer would arrive at their hideout. He sighed and got up from his seat.

When he exited his office, Prosciutto was at his door.

“Risotto, has the boss given us anything new?” the blond asked.

“No, we have a newcomer.”

He sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell everyone.”

Risotto entered the room where they gathered. He sat in his usual spot, looking at the empty seat the newcomer would fill. The rest of his team joined and sat down.

“So, who’s the newcomer? What does he look like?” Pesci asked.

“Wasn’t told,” Risotto answered. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

While they sat quietly, Melone brought out his stand, Babyface.

Formaggio looked bored, and Ghiaccio tapped his foot.

“Is this guy ever going to show up?” the blue-haired assassin asked.

“Do you think the boss hired the newcomer to…” Prosciutto trailed off.

“No, that would seem excessive,” Risotto said, “and I doubt he would trust another assassin.”

“I think I see the new guy,” Melone said.

Prosciutto looked at Babyface. “No way. Is this a joke?”

Curious, Risotto got up and checked, spying on the pink-haired guy at their door. He looked like a teenager. Though, Risotto did murder somebody when he was 18, barely an adult. The guy could be 18 or around that age.

“Wait, Melone, when did we have security cameras?” Illuso asked.

“I suggest it to Risotto,” he answered. “He agreed. I even installed security cameras where everybody lives. And not just in your front and back doors. I placed cameras in everyone’s living room, bedroom, bathroom, closet—”

“The fucking bathroom?” Ghiaccio yelled.

“I agreed, but I didn’t say invade everyone’s privacy,” Risotto said.

“How small is Formaggio’s cock?” Illuso asked.

“Small than Pesci’s, but there’s nothing wrong with that,” Melone answered, causing Illuso to snicker and Pesci to smile.

“Dude, come on!” Formaggio furrowed his brows.

“I never said Pesci had the second smallest dick,” Melone said. “He has the second largest dick.”

Illuso stopped laughing and got serious. “Wait, who has the smallest dick?”

Prosciutto sighed. “Enough! Someone needs to get the newcomer.”

“I’ll go,” Risotto said.

-

Doppio stood outside the hideout. It seemed like a rundown, shady place, and graffiti was on the walls. Feeling he had the wrong address, he was about to leave when Risotto opened the door.

“Ah!” he panicked, unexpecting the execution team’s leader. He was tall, taller than him.

“Relax,” he said. “The boss said to come here, correct?”

Doppio nodded.

“Come in and follow me.”

He entered and followed him into a room with very colorful people sitting down. He knew their names, but they didn’t know him.

“This is him?” Formaggio questioned. “This jailbait is a killer?”

“Excuse me?” Doppio looked offended.

“You don’t look like much,” Pesci commented. “But at least I’m no longer the new guy.”

“Are we going to be doing anything?” Doppio asked Risotto. He wondered if the boss thought of anything next. He’ll have to wait for his call tonight.

“The boss would’ve told me,” he answered. “He messaged me that you were coming but nothing else.”

“We’re to do nothing?”

“Yes, that’s what we’ve been doing ever since two of our members died. By the way, what’s your name?”

“It’s Vinegar Doppio. Just call me Doppio.”

After everybody introduced themselves and chatted, Doppio had some thoughts about everyone. To Doppio, Formaggio seemed weird and made him uncomfortable. So long as Illuso didn’t put him in the mirror world, he was okay with him. Pesci looked ugly and creepy. Prosciutto seemed stuck up, and Doppio immediately didn’t like him. Melone looked like a slut. The boss informed Doppio about Ghiaccio’s anger problems, so he’s staying away from him, and Risotto seemed apathetic but also scary.

“I have an idea!” Formaggio grabbed Doppio’s attention. He looked and smiled at the pink-haired man, bringing out a glass jar.

“Is this where I think it’s going?” Melone asked with a smile.

Formaggio giggled evilly. “Oh yes, you bet!”

Melone licked his lips, sending a shiver down Doppio’s spine.

Wanting to know what happened, he used his boss' stand ability to see into the future. A lot was going on in the image. Formaggio slashes him with his stand, and Illuso takes Doppio into the mirror world, waiting for Little Feet to shrink him. For some reason, Melone unzips his pants and is reaching for the jar.

“Ew, no!” Doppio yelled.

“Wait, how do you know what I’m about to do?” Formaggio questioned.

Everyone stared at him intensively, expecting a quick answer.

Earlier before, the boss said they might keep their abilities a secret and had told Doppio about everyone’s stand ability. Even if he hadn’t told him, Epitaph would predict it. Normally, whatever Doppio saw in the image would come true, and nothing could prevent that from happening unless a stand could alter fate. Maybe he was in control of his fate the whole time and altered it from happening. Whatever the reason why it didn’t happen was giving Doppio a headache different from his usual ones, and right now, he needed to think of something quick.

“Uh, why else would you bring a jar out?” Doppio answered. “Your stand probably has the ability to shrink me, and I’m a newcomer. You’re plotting something humiliating for me!”

Formaggio let down his guard and smiled. “Wow, you’re smart. I did the same thing with Pesci, except a jar wasn’t involved. Prosciutto would’ve killed me. Instead, I made him sit on a whoopee cushion during a meeting.”

The others were relaxed except for Risotto. It was hard to read him, but he continued staring at him, making Doppio uncomfortable.

“Doppio, what do you do?” the leader asked.

“Me? Are you talking about my stand ability? I thought we were keeping that a secret. I’m sure you guys are keeping yours a secret from me too.”

“Yeah, true,” Formaggio commented. “We are, but since you guess my ability, I’ll help you. Illuso can take people into the mirror world.”

“Formaggio!” The brunette glared at him.

Prosciutto sighed. “Is this over yet?”

“It is,” Risotto answered. “You’re free to do what you want. We have nothing to do, anyways.”

Doppio felt sorry for them. The boss was the boss, but he never knew why he didn’t trust the assassination team.

-

Day 2

Doppio woke up in his hotel room. Nothing happened after he left the hideout, and the boss didn’t call. After eating breakfast and taking a shower, he returned to the building, heading to the gathering room. Prosciutto was the first one there, but before Doppio could sit down and mind his business, the blond got up from his seat, approached him, and gripped his shoulder.

“Ow!” Doppio responded. He turned around and looked at the glaring man. “Did I do something?”

“Let me warn you,” he said. “Don’t waste Risotto’s time. He’s been stressed out, looking for work for us. And yesterday, while you guessed Formaggio’s ability, I had guessed yours as well. I think you can see into the future.” Doppio suffered a slight headache. “You look too young and inexperienced. No way was that a lucky guess. Maybe I’m wrong, and you could be a spy. Either way, I don’t trust you.”

Prosciutto shoved him and walked away to a room.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

The voice came from behind, but nobody was there.

“Prosciutto wasn’t the first one here.” The voice revealed himself.

“Oh, Risotto! H-hello! Did you find work for us?”

“No, I’m letting Melone and Ghiaccio ask around. However, I need to see your stand.”

“My stand?”

“I need to know what you can do with it. If you need to be in a fight to show it, then just tell me what it can do.”

“I see ten seconds into the future. That’s all.”

“So, Prosciutto guessed right. May I see what your stand looks like?”

Epitaph appeared on Doppio’s forehead, and Risotto placed a hand under his chin, tilting his head, almost as if they were about to kiss. The pink-haired man stared into his eyes but looked away out of shyness.

Then somebody opened the door. “Hey, bro, are you—ah!”

It was Pesci, and Formaggio and Illuso were right next to him.

“Well, well, well,” Illuso commented.

“Bro!” Pesci yelled as he ran away.

“Risotto?” Formaggio said. “No offense, but that looks—”

The large man stepped away from Doppio. “I was examining his stand. Nothing more.”

“Are you sure? Because that looked—” Before Illuso could speak, Risotto looked at him. “Sorry. I know you told us to forget Sorbet and Gelato, but it’s hard.”

“It’s fine,” Risotto replied. “I called Melone and Ghiaccio an hour ago, and they’re still finding work for us.”

“Still? Damn, I need some action,” Formaggio said. “Come on. Let’s do something, Illuso.”

Illuso sighed. “Like what?”

The two left the room, leaving the other two by themselves.

“Gelato and Sorbet, who were they?” Doppio asked.

Risotto sat down in his chair. “They were a couple. After I killed somebody at the age of 18, I thought for sure the police would never find my crimes. But the couple heard of the murder and destroyed the evidence. They told me to stop, but I didn’t listen. I continued a life of crime, doing whatever for a price. Eventually, I joined Passione and formed a team, recruiting Sorbet and Gelato. We weren’t trusted, and because of that, we had no territory. Sorbet and Gelato tried to discover the boss’ identity.”

“And they got killed because of it,” Doppio finished for him. He heard a sad sigh from Risotto, which he thought was strange because he seemed emotionless. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes, I’ll be alright. Thanks for asking. I’m not sure if you were aware, but there’s a kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll be there shortly. I need to check if the boss left anything for us to do.”

Now that he mentioned it, Doppio was feeling a bit peckish. He went to the kitchen, where the rest of the team was.

“Doppio,” Prosciutto called. He was sitting down at a table and shot him with a dirty look.

“Hey!” Formaggio tried to calm him down. “Illuso and I were joking around. Pesci, what the fuck did you tell him?”

“Risotto kissed Doppio,” Pesci answered.

“That didn’t even happen!” Illuso said.

“Well, that’s what it looked like!” he argued.

Prosciutto got up from his seat. “I would like to apologize for my behavior earlier.”

Doppio wasn’t sure what to think. “Oh, that’s alright.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure!”

The blond walked to the coffee pot and poured a cup of coffee. However, there was a feeling Doppio had. Curious to know what would happen in the next ten seconds, he looked at his bangs. In the vision, Prosciutto walks towards him and throws hot coffee.

Looking at the present, Prosciutto approached him. Doppio moved away before coffee could splash him. The coffee splashed on the walls, seeping down to the floor.

“I knew it!” the blond yelled. “You can see into the future. How else would you have known!”

“What is your problem with me?”

“Why would we have a newcomer when the rest of Passione doesn’t trust us?”

Risotto walked into the room right on time.

“If he’s a spy, I trust you all know what to do,” he answered. “But he hasn’t betrayed us yet, so relax, Prosciutto.”

The blond sighed and grabbed a paper towel. “I’ll clean up this mess.”

Seeing as Doppio needed to get along with others to fit in, he thought he should try to get along with Prosciutto. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need your help!” he snapped.

“What if I help, bro?” Pesci grabbed a paper towel and knelt on the floor, wiping the coffee away.

Prosciutto didn’t say but quietly accepted his help.

Doppio sighed and left the hideout, seeing nothing to do. He took a taxi and returned to the hotel to watch TV. There, the boss called him, and he answered.

“Hey, boss, so far, the hitman team hasn’t planned anything suspicious,” he reported. “I’ve gotten to know them a bit, and Risotto—”

“I appreciate the report,” he interrupted, “but Doppio, even though I told you to get close to them, do not get too close to Risotto. He’ll manipulate you. Remember, he and his group are a bunch of killers. All they care about is money. I need you to get close to the other members.”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to head back. Prosciutto doesn’t like me much and thinks I’m a spy. Also, isn’t there something the hitman team could do?”

“I don’t have any task for them to do.”

“Could you think of something?”

“I need a reason to kill someone. Focus on the team. Know everything they are plotting. I have to hang up. Take care, my adorable Doppio."

-

Day 3

Doppio woke up in his bed, got up, and made a bowl of cereal. As he poured the milk into the bowl, he thought about who to befriend. He didn’t like the prank Formaggio, Illuso, and Melone tried to pull in the vision. However, he wasn’t sure if Pesci liked him, and Ghiaccio was too hot-headed to approach. Prosciutto was out of the question. Risotto seemed to be the only reasonable one in the group, but he shouldn’t get close to him.

“Oh, damn it!” Doppio realized his mistake, looking at the milk-filled bowl. He made sure to pour his cereal carefully.

-

Risotto was the first to arrive at the hideout. Later, Prosciutto and Pesci arrived. The three were in the kitchen, eating and drinking. Risotto, who sat across from Prosciutto and Pesci, had a cup of black coffee while Pesci had milk and cookies. Prosciutto had a cup of coffee mixed with cream and some bread with strawberry jam.

“I don’t trust the newcomer,” Prosciutto said to him.

“I understand,” Risotto replied. “But what would happen if we killed him? The boss might have us eliminated.”

Prosciutto sighed. “Then what do we do?”

He didn’t know how to reply and stared at his cup of coffee. Focused, he could hear somebody enter the hideout and walk to the kitchen. Then Ghiaccio and Melone appeared. They didn’t seem happy.

“Have you found a target we can kill?” Risotto asked.

“Yes, but the person isn’t going to pay that much,” Ghiaccio said. “If we split it amongst us, the amount would be little, and I don’t know if the target is a stand user.”

“Who’s the target?”

“Some guy named Amedeo Parri. He lives close by,” Melone answered. “And if you’re worried he might run away, don’t be. He works at a McDonald’s and isn’t going anywhere.”

“I want McDonald’s,” Pesci commented.

“You got all that information yesterday?” Risotto asked.

“Melone wanted something from McDonald’s,” Ghiaccio answered.

“Here, Pesci, you can have my leftover fries from yesterday.” He handed it over to him.

“You’re the best, Melone!” he responded.

More members of La Squadra arrived in the kitchen.

“Good morning, everyone!” Doppio greeted cheerfully and made the room quiet.

“Morning,” Risotto replied. Other than him, nobody else replied. They chatted amongst themselves afterward.

“You should spy on him,” the blond whispered to Risotto.

“Will do,” he whispered back, getting up from his seat.

Doppio watched him. “Where are you going?”

“I have to use the bathroom,” he lied.

He left the kitchen, and once he was sure nobody was looking, he turned invisible.

-

Doppio sighed. It felt like nobody wanted to befriend him.

“Newcomer.” Melone grabbed his attention and had an arm around his shoulder. “What was your name again? Doppio, right? Why are you looking so glum? Don’t worry. It’s always like this. I think I prefer it this way. Nobody has to put themselves in danger.”

“Agreed,” Formaggio commented. “I can just sit back and relax.”

“You are aware we earn nothing by doing nothing, right?” Prosciutto said.

“Maybe that’s what you do,” Melone replied. “Me? I’ve been taking photos.”

“Oh, what do you take photos of?” Members of Passione committing crimes or perhaps anything that could reveal the boss’ identity? Doppio wondered.

“I take photos of people undressing,” he answered with a smile.

“Weirdo,” Ghiaccio commented.

“That’s a little dangerous,” Formaggio said. “Why not let me help you?”

“Then I’d have to split the money,” Melone answered. “Oh! I just remembered something. Doppio, how big is your cock?”

Prosciutto got out of his seat. “I’m leaving before things get weird.”

Pesci followed him.

“Does Pesci always follow him?” Doppio asked.

“Pretty much,” Melone answered and sat down where Prosciutto sat.

“Is there a reason for that? Why doesn’t he follow Risotto around?”

“Well, when the boss needs Risotto to kill someone, shit will go down. You do not want to be around him when that happens.”

“Oh my god, how vicious is Risotto?”

“If you knew his stand’s ability, you’d know,” Illuso answered.

“So…is anyone going to tell me his stand’s ability?” Doppio asked despite knowing.

“You’ll just have to fuck around and find out,” Formaggio said, sitting down in Pesci’s spot.

The kitchen got quiet.

“Risotto’s still in the bathroom, right?” Doppio asked.

“Hmm, let me check.” Melone at the kitchen table, using Babyface as a laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking through the security cameras. Wait. Oh, shit! You weren’t supposed to know that. Oh well, I placed cameras everywhere in the hideout. Now you know.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“I can’t shit in peace in this place,” Formaggio commented.

“He’s not in the bathroom,” Melone said.

“He probably turned invisible,” the redhead added.

“Formaggio!” Illuso yelled. “There’s probably a reason why.”

“Oh, he’s here then?” Doppio spoke. No wonder why he felt watched. “Um, well, I don’t know what to do. I guess I’ll read something.”

-

After Doppio left, Risotto revealed himself and sat down at the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Formaggio explained. “But I don’t think there’s anything suspicious about this guy. He seems harmless.”

“If he’s harmless, the boss wouldn’t have put him in with us. I need to get close to him and see what he can do in a fight.”

-

Day 4

Before Doppio arrived in the hideout, he spotted an olive green frog and knelt to speak to it.

“Hey, what are you doing here, little buddy?”

The frog croaked.

“Are you hungry?”

“What are you doing?” Prosciutto asked.

Doppio got up and turned around to face him. Pesci and Risotto were with him. “Oh, uh, making friends with a frog. I think it’s hungry.”

“Not my concern,” Prosciutto said, walking to the door.

Pesci followed him but then stopped, curious about the frog. “Oh, that’s a tree frog! There are some worms near my house. We can collect some for the little guy. I used to collect them before—ow!”

Prosciutto elbowed him. “By the time we get back, the frog will be gone. Let’s head inside. I want some coffee.”

“What if we caught it?” Doppio said.

Prosciutto looked at the frog, and it began hopping away. “Better catch it then.” His arm reached for the doorknob.

“Beach Boy!” Pesci brought his stand and reeled the frog towards him.

“What the hell!” the blond reacted.

“Sorry, bro,” he replied. “It just looked cute.”

“Would it hurt to have a pet?” Doppio asked.

“Yes, our pay is shit,” the blond argued. “Risotto, tell them!”

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a pet,” he answered.

“What?”

“We would need a tank to keep it in. We can go to the pet store and buy a tank and some food for it. We’ll take my car. But first, keep the frog safe while Doppio and I are gone.”

“You’re going alone with the newcomer?” Prosciutto glared at the pink-haired man, intimidating him. “I don’t trust him alone with anyone.”

“Hey, bro, I think he’s a decent guy,” Pesci said. “Besides, I should go too. I know a bit about frogs.”

The blond sighed. “Okay, but I’m sitting next to Risotto. Pesci, you know what to do if the newbie does anything.”

“Hold on,” Pesci said. “I need the others to watch over the frog while we’re gone.”

After Pesci spoke to the others, they all got in Risotto’s black Fiat Punto and drove to the pet shop, buying all they needed for their new pet frog. It was around lunchtime when they returned to the hideout.

“I was wondering when you guys were going to get back,” Ghiaccio greeted them. “I was thinking about having frog legs.”

“Ghiaccio, enough!” Risotto said.

“They’re in the gathering room.”

They made their way there, where the rest of the gang was. The frog was inside a bottle, but Formaggio got it out and put it into its new tank once Risotto set it up.

“What’re you going to name him?” Pesci asked.

“I think I’ll name him Pickles,” Doppio answered. “Oh, and thanks for buying things for Pickles.”

“Doppio, I think Pickles should be in your house,” Risotto said. “This isn’t a place for a pet.”

“I don’t have a house. I live with others,” he sort of lied.

“I’ll take him with me!” Pesci said. “And if you need a place to stay, you can always knock at my door.”

“Pesci!” Prosciutto yelled. “You barely know this guy.”

“Sorry, never mind. I can watch over the frog, though.”

“Prosciutto, knock it off!” Formaggio spoke. He looked annoyed. “He’s not a bad guy. You’re just being a dick.”

The blond sighed exasperatedly, got up, and left the room. This time Pesci did not follow but watched and examined Pickles.

As the rest of La Squadra was doing something to entertain themselves, Doppio sat back in his seat, thinking how wrong he and his boss thought about them. They just need a little pay raise, he thought.

Doppio spent a few hours with them, but it was getting dark, and he nearly dozed off in his seat.

Risotto tapped him on the shoulder, waking him up before he fell into a deep sleep. “Need me to drive you home?”

He stretched in his seat and smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

Risotto helped him out of his seat, and they walked out of the hideout, heading to his car.

“You said you lived with others,” Risotto reminded him. “Where is their address?”

Shit. “Ah—did I say that?” He giggled. “Well, um, I may have gotten in a fight with them. So, I got kicked out. I reside in a hotel not far from here.” Then he remembered how close the hotel was to their hideout. “Um, hehe, it’s within walking distance. I just wanted to spend time with you.” Blood rushed to his cheeks, blushing, and he covered his face.

“Doppio…” Risotto moved the man’s arms and placed a hand on his cheek.

“Risotto…” His heart raced. “Turururu!” His head started pounding.

Risotto moved his hand away from him. “You’re acting strange.”

“Uh, my phone. I need to go. Now.”

Doppio dashed away and didn’t stop until he reached the hotel. He reached for the nail clippers in his pocket, thinking it was a cell phone.

“Boss, what the hell!” Doppio yelled.

“Quiet! What do you think you’re doing?” the boss said.

“I-I’m getting close to them, just like you ordered.”

“I need you to get close, not too close!”

“They need money, boss.”

“They seem well off. Risotto managed to buy Pickles a home.”

“Wait, how do you know about that?”

“Do not hide anything from me, Doppio!”

“I understand. Yes, boss. I’ll try not to get close to Risotto.”



The boss hung up, and Doppio felt ready to burst into tears.

-

Day 5

Risotto was the first one there in their hideout. He poured himself a cup of coffee and went to his office, awaiting further orders from the boss. There were no messages, leaving La Squadra with nothing to do again.

With the rare silence in the air, Risotto pondered what had happened between him and Doppio yesterday. They were so close to kissing, but then Doppio acted strange. He should’ve followed him home.

Doppio, Doppio. He was all in his mind. Risotto smiled, remembering how flustered and cute the pink-haired man acted.

“Hey, Risotto, anything new for us?” Prosciutto asked.

“Hmm?” He didn’t notice he had entered his office. “No, but you remember that guy Melone spoke about the day before yesterday?”

“Amedeo Parri, the McDonald’s worker? Are we going to kill him today?”

“Tomorrow. I need to see how we can use Doppio’s stand.” Risotto could tell from Prosciutto’s face that he didn’t like his name mentioned. “There something wrong?”

“Everyone trusts this guy when we don’t know anything about him. I don’t want anyone to die from an infiltrator.”

“I understand.” Risotto should’ve known better than to get close to a strange. “Since you’re here, are the others here as well?”

“Surprisingly, Melone got here before Ghiaccio. The others aren’t here yet.”

-

Doppio woke up later than usual, thanks to yesterday. He lay in his bed, hugging one of the pillows while thinking about Risotto. He didn’t know why, but he grew attracted to him, his voice, his muscles. He squealed, just thinking about him. Then he heard a phone go off, but it was someone else’s. It reminded him about the boss, and he got upset.

Doppio sighed and got out of bed. The boss needed him to do this mission. He changed his clothes and headed for the hideout, skipping breakfast because he wasn’t in the mood. When he got there, Risotto greeted him.

“Doppio, hello,” he said. Doppio wasn’t sure because he was tired, but he almost sounded nervous.

“Oh, hello,” he replied. Did he want to mention what happened yesterday?

“It’s almost lunch. Pesci was worried about you and thought you were mad at him for keeping Pickles.”

“No, I’m not mad. Can I head inside?”

Before Risotto could reply, Ghiaccio burst out of the door. Melone was behind him.

“Are we heading to McDonald’s or what?” the blue-haired assassin asked.

“Ghiaccio?” Doppio said. “McDonald’s? To get food?”

“Yes and no,” Risotto answered. “We’re going to show you who you’re going to kill… and to get food. Your target is Amedeo Parri. We cannot kill him now; he’s at work.”

“Prosciutto told me to remind you to get a Happy Meal with milk for Pesci,” Melone said. “Oh, and I’m coming too. I want something from there. I’m guessing we’re hopping in your car, Risotto? Ghiaccio’s car can’t fit four people.”

“Yeah, we’re—”

“I call the front seat!” Melone yelled.

“I’ll sit behind you,” Doppio said.

“Ghiaccio, don’t kick my seat,” Risotto said.

“I’m not going to kick your seat! Why do people think this!” he yelled.

Everyone got in Risotto’s car. Melone was in the front seat as he said and placed a disc in the CD player, playing sexual music and making everyone uncomfortable. Risotto drove off and went to the nearest McDonald’s. His car was behind two others.

“Alright, everyone,” Risotto said, “look at the menu. Tell me what you want.”

“I’ll have a strawberry smoothie,” Doppio said.

“Yuck, a strawberry smoothie? Their smoothies are fake!” Ghiaccio commented. “Get something real. By the way, I’ll have the Happy Meal. Don’t forget to buy one for Pesci! And the Milk! Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Um, the chicken nuggets? I’ll have six chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce.”

“Ghiaccio, don’t tell people what to get,” Risotto said. “It’s okay. I’ll get you that smoothie.”

“No, it’s fine,” the pink-haired man replied. “I just want the nuggets now.”

“My turn!” Melone said. “I want two Big Macs, ten chicken nuggets, two large fries, and a vanilla shake. Oh, and an apple pie! Don’t forget that.”

“Christ, Melone, what the hell?” Ghiaccio commented. “Do you want to be a fat ass?”

“Ghiaccio!” Risotto yelled, sounding angry.

“What did I do this time?” the blue-haired man bickered.

“What did I say?” The leader tried to remind him.

He sighed.

“Anyways, Ghiaccio, I’m ordering so much because I realized how skinny I am,” Melone answered. “And I do want my ass to get fatter. Before Sorbet and Gelato died, Gelato made fun of my bony ass. That hasn’t changed in two years, and I think I’m getting skinnier.”

“You’re fine the way you are, Melone,” Ghiaccio commented. “You’ve always been.”

Melone giggled nervously. “Wow, thanks.”

Doppio paid attention to their conversation. A long time ago, he wanted to be as strong and buff. He had never worked out before, but oddly he seemed to remember doing sit-ups and pushups in a dark room. He tried to focus on the memory, but doing that caused him to get a headache.

“You alright back there?” Risotto said. “I just ordered.”

“Starving, huh?” Melone commented. “Yeah, sometimes I pass out when I’m not driving. That’s why I prefer getting on my motorcycle.”

“Did I pass out?” Doppio asked.

“Well, your eyes were open,” Ghiaccio answered. “Wait, were your eyes always brown? I could’ve sworn they were green.”

“They were always brown. I remember details about people, hehe,” Melone said.

“Quiet,” Risotto said. “We’re about to approach the target. Doppio, make sure you get a good look at him. Also, don’t eat in the car once Melone hands everyone their food.”

“Wait, why couldn’t you show me a picture of him?” Doppio asked.

“I’m saving space on my camera,” Melone answered.

“We’re approaching,” the white-haired assassin said.

Their car was at the window, and Risotto picked up their order. In those few seconds, Doppio saw his assassination target. Amedeo was a brunette with short hair, gray eyes, and a face decorated with zits. He was likely in his early 20s. Why anyone wanted him dead, Doppio did not know, but he probably got somebody’s order wrong, pissing off the wrong person.

Melone handed everyone’s food except for Risotto since he was driving.

“Did I get a smoothie?” Doppio complained.

“You wanted the nuggets, right?” Risotto said. “I can go back and get you a smoothie.”

“Did I ask for nuggets?”

“Sorry, I made you change your order,” Ghiaccio apologized.

“Oh, you did?” Doppio questioned.

“I said I was sorry. No need to act stupid,” the blue-haired man replied.

“Hmm, I think you’re suffering from short-term memory loss,” Melone said.

“Did you sleep well? Did the sudden hit stress you out?” Risotto inquired.

“Now that you mention it, no. I didn’t sleep well,” Doppio answered. “Though, I am worried about getting caught murdering him.”

“That won’t happen,” he said.

Doppio believed him.

-

Risotto drove them to the hideout, and they went to the kitchen to eat.

“Shit, I forgot to ask for a soda,” Ghiaccio said. “Hey, Melone, could you hand me a cola?”

Doppio realized he needed something to drink. “You wouldn’t happen to have orange juice in there, do you? Ah!” His head hurt.

Melone got up from his seat. “Ghiaccio, I’ll hand you a soda, but Doppio, I think it’s best if you had water.”

“I—ugh, yeah. I’ll have some water.”

Doppio watched as the lilac-haired assassin brought them their drinks. When Melone looked at him, he looked happy then his expression changed to concerned.

“Do you have something going on with your eyes?” he asked.

“Huh, what do you mean?” Doppio replied.

Ghiaccio stopped munching on his burger. “Are you talking about—ouch!” Melone elbowed him. “What was that for?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Doppio wondered if he knew that he was an infiltrator. The longer he pondered, the more he wanted to kill him, erase him from existence. And Ghiaccio, he needed to kill him too. He knows! He knows! He knows! Doppio had another migraine, and he covered his face with his palms.

“Hey, Doppio, do you want this frog keychain?” Pesci asked. “I’ll be like Pickles is always with you.”

“Oh yeah, we get a toy if we buy the Happy Meal,” Ghiaccio said. “Nice, I got a cat keychain.”

Doppio uncovered his face.

“Pesci, I don’t think Doppio is in the mood,” Risotto said.

No, he wasn’t in the mood. He felt light-headed.

-

Day 6

Doppio awoke in the gathering room, lying on the couch. Physically, he was fine. He tried to remember. He was eating chicken nuggets and then nothing. Oh gosh, did something happen? His phone rang, and he reached for the coaster on the coffee table.

“Now’s not a good time,” Doppio whispered.

“I thought I told you to stay away from Risotto,” the boss spoke.

“I can’t!”

“Hmm, looks like I have to kill him.”

Doppio’s head hurt again. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

The boss hung up, causing Doppio to throw the coaster across the room.

Risotto entered the room. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you sleep well yesterday?”

“Not really.” Doppio doubted if it was sleeping poorly yesterday. It was something else.

“Your target is on his day off. Now’s the perfect time to assassinate him. But first, you should have something to eat. Do you want me to get you something?”

“I want something sweet.”

“We have cookies.”

“Sure, I’ll have three with some milk, please.”

Risotto left and returned but brought six cookies and some milk. He sat down with Doppio.

“Why’d you bring six?” Doppio asked.

“I wanted some,” he answered, bringing out two straws from his pocket. “You don’t mind sharing that drink, do you?”

The pink-haired man smiled and blushed. “I don’t mind. I didn’t know you liked cookies.”

“It’s rare for me to enjoy sweets,” he explained. “I’ve been busy and shouldn’t be spending my money on small things.”

“I should have a word with—uh, you should tell the boss to give you guys a raise.”

“I have. He doesn’t trust us.”

“I trust you.” Doppio got closer to Risotto. “Can we?”

Risotto smiled and kissed him, causing the other’s face to turn red.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he commented, causing Doppio to giggle. “We should finish our drink. When Illuso found out Sorbet and Gelato were a couple, he wouldn’t shut up about it.”

They finished their cookies and the milk before the others got there. Melone arrived at the hideout before Prosciutto.

“You’re here early,” Risotto commented.

“I think we should kill Amedeo as soon as possible,” Melone said.

“Isn’t it too early to kill someone?” Doppio questioned.

“It’s never too early. Sometimes we stay up past midnight,” Melone answered.

The rest of La Squadra entered the gathering room.

“Morning, everyone!” Formaggio greeted. “Doppio, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m—”

“We’re busy,” Melone interrupted.

“Did you get here before me?” Prosciutto asked, surprised by the fact.

“Quiet, everyone!” Risotto ordered. “Melone is right. We should kill Amedeo. There’s a chance he might be sleeping or maybe just waking up.”

“I’m coming with you,” Melone said. “Illuso, could you come with us? You know, just in case things get out of hand.”

“I don’t think our target is a stand user,” Illuso replied. “But I’ll go.”

Risotto got up from his seat and headed outside with Melone and Illuso. Doppio sighed and followed them into Risotto’s car. He sat in the back seat with Illuso, and Melone sat in the front. He expected the lilac-haired assassin to play music, but he didn’t. Perhaps it wasn’t the time. The drive was short and quiet, and they stopped in front of an old apartment complex.

“Your target is on the second floor, door number 24,” Melone explained. “Just in case, I should take a blood sample from you.”

“What for?” Doppio asked.

“No, Melone,” Risotto said. “I’ll watch over him. He’s going to need help breaking in the door. Illuso, you’re coming with us to clean.”

The three got out of the car and headed to where Amedeo resided.

“Can you see what will happen next?” the white-haired assassin asked.

Doppio used Epitaph. “It’s safe. He won’t notice.”

“Good. Illuso, stay here.”

Risotto knelt, picked the lock, and slowly opened the door, exposing the messy living room. Food and clothes littered the wooden floors. He entered first before Doppio, both careful in their steps. Once they made their way to Amedeo’s bedroom, Doppio used Epitaph again.

“He’s going to grab me,” he warned, stopping Risotto from opening the bedroom door.

“Is he awake?”

“He’s still in bed in the vision. I’m guessing I stepped on something.”

“Can you kill him quietly?”

“What happens in the vision is fated to happen. He’s going to grab my hair, but he’ll die.”

“If you’re ready, then go.”

Doppio went in and snuck up on Amedeo. The floor creaked, waking the brunette up.

“Who the hell are you?” he yelled, grabbing Doppio’s hair and undoing the braid.

Doppio’s stand pierced through Amedeo’s stomach, killing him instantly. Blood splattered on the sheets and walls. He and Risotto quickly left, leaving Illuso to clean up the scene.

“Well done,” Risotto commented. “Once Illuso is finished, maybe he can help braid your hair.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I was thinking about changing my hairstyle.” Doppio then got another headache but smiled it off and tried not to be whiny. “Hey, could I visit your house after we drop the others off at the hideout?”



“How about tomorrow? I have to contact the person who ordered the hit and discuss with Ghiaccio how the money will be split. I’ll be too exhausted by then.”

Guy at the Bar

“I want you out of the house,” Donatella said.

They stood in the kitchen. Doppio stood near the fridge, wanting to get water, and Donatella kept an eye on him. Trish, only a six-year-old, peeped out of the doorway. Doppio looked at her and noticed her eyes started to water.

“Are you guys fighting again?” she questioned.

Donatella glared at him. Look at what you did! She forced a smile and turned to her child. “No, baby, head back to bed.”

“But I want to try the candy daddy brought home!”

“Candy?” Donatella's eyes widened, no longer smiling. She looked at Doppio.

He was confused. “But I didn’t bring candy home!”

Trish brought out her dad’s suitcase and opened it, revealing a bunch of drugs in plastic bags. There were all types of them, but little Trish was interested in the fentanyl.

“This one looks pretty,” she commented.

“Oh my god, sweetie!” Donatella rushed to pick up her child. Trish dropped the suitcase, spilling the drugs on the floor. “Don’t touch that! Don’t ever touch that!”

Trish started crying. “Why?”

Doppio didn’t understand. How did those drugs get in his suitcase? “I don’t know how those got in there!”

“I don’t care about your excuses!” she yelled. “First, you get a job someone on the phone offered you. Next, you get a tattoo. Then when you get home, and I try to ask about your day, you’re quiet as if you’re not there!” She looked at the drugs. “Are you a drug dealer? That would explain the load of cash you bring home.”

Doppio tried to remember everything, but he couldn’t. “No! I swear, I’m not!”

“I don’t believe you. Get out, now!”

“Please, let me just figure out what’s going on!”

“I said now!” She pushed him to the living room and then to the door.

Trish’s crying got louder. “No, I don’t want dad to leave! Mama, don’t!”

“Please, let me stay for tonight!” Doppio pleaded.

“Get out! Now! Get out!” She hit him with her free arm.

Afraid, he opened the door. Donatella shoved him out with a painful kick, knocking him to the ground. The neighbors gathered around to witness the commotion, but none approached the fighting couple. Unsure of what to do, tears started to form in his eyes. When he thought Donatella had nothing to say or do, she opened the door and threw his wallet at him.

“Expect a divorce!” she yelled before slamming the door.

“Bitch!” he snapped.

There was no response except for Trish’s loud crying.

Doppio stood up and wandered the city, thinking why the suitcase the boss gave him had drugs inside. He searched his pockets for a cell phone and didn’t have one. Strange, it always felt like he carried one. Did he even know the boss’ number? Maybe the number was on his arm. He rolled up his sleeves, checked the tattoos, and sighed. He didn’t want a tattoo, so why was he inked?

Doppio sighed. He might as well drink his sorrows away and see how that feels. He’s never had a drop of alcohol, and drinking wouldn’t help him, but he had nothing to lose.

Nearby was a gay bar. Although Doppio married a woman, men did interest him. He doubted he’ll find the perfect match in one night, but it wouldn’t hurt to get to know others.

Inside, people crowded the bar. There were people, young and old. Everyone seemed happy and was talking to people except for one guy. He had a black t-shirt and blue jeans, and his hair was long and white. There was an empty seat next to him.

Doppio walked up to him, but he didn’t notice him yet. He wanted to speak but was too shy to say anything. “Uh, um,” he said.

The stranger must’ve heard him because he turned around. “Yeah?”

Doppio’s eyes focused on the floor. He had to be blushing hard right now. “I—um—”

“You can sit down with me,” the stranger said. “You seem like you’re a year younger than me. Is this your first time here?”

Curious about what the stranger looked like, he sat and faced him. His eyes were unique, enamoring Doppio. He had never seen anyone with black sclerae and red irises, and his lips were black.

“Y-yeah.”

“Did you recently turn 18?” the stranger asked.

“I’m not 18,” he answered. “I’m 24.”

“Oh,” the stranger said, sounding surprised despite looking stoic. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Risotto Nero, and you are?”

“Vinegar Doppio. Just call me Doppio.”

“Alright, Doppio, since you’re 24, and this is your first time here, what are you doing here? To get a drink, right? Or are you looking for something more?”

“Well, I got into a fight with someone, so I came to drink here.”

“Oh, what was the fight about?”

“Well, it’s complicated. Let me think.” He tried to remember how those drugs got into his suitcase. “Ugh, my head!” He placed a palm to his head.

“Hey, bartender, a glass of water for my friend here?” Risotto shouted. The bartender placed a glass of water near Doppio. “Drink up.”

He took a sip. “Thanks.”

Risotto smiled. “No problem. Maybe you should stay away from alcohol if you have a headache.”

“You’re right.” Doppio gulped his water. “Just wondering, does alcohol make you…seem as if you’re not there?”

“Zoning out? I don’t know. I don’t drink alcohol that much. I only drink it occasionally, but I never get wasted. Anyways, I’ve been here for a while. I need to go. Hopefully, we’ll meet again.”

Risotto got out of his seat and quickly walked out of the bar. Before Doppio could chase after him, he had another headache.

-

Doppio awoke in a fancy hotel room. Before he could question how he got here, his phone started ringing.

“Turururu!”

He picked up a box of tissues.

“Boss, is that you? We need to talk,” he said.

“I’m aware that you’re currently homeless,” his boss replied. “But I’ve already taken care of that. You’ll be sleeping in the best hotel rooms money can buy. Take care, my adorable Doppio.”

The boss hung up, and he received a headache.

“I should find that bar again,” he said before leaving the room.

It was dark out, and the streets were wet, but Doppio found the bar. Risotto sat at the bar in a different spot. He noticed him, smiled, and waved. Next to him was a couple making out. One was blond, and the other had black hair. Risotto tapped the shoulder of the black-haired guy, and they moved, giving Doppio a seat. Once he sat down, they looked at him.

“Who’s your friend?” the blond asked Risotto.

“This is Vinegar Doppio. He prefers it if you call him Doppio. Doppio, this is Sorbet and Gelato. The one sitting next to you is Sorbet.”

“Ah, hello!” Doppio said shyly.

“Oh, he’s cute,” Gelato commented. “I can see why you like him.”

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Yeah,” the Risotto answered, “you’re interesting. By the way, I’ve been searching for you for three days. Where have you been?”

Three days? Doppio thought. “I’ve been working.”

“What’s your job?” Gelato asked.

“Uh, waste management consultant,” he lied.

“Really?” Sorbet questioned.

“You don’t look like the type,” Gelato commented.

“Come on, you guys,” Risotto said. “Don’t judge people by their appearance. I don’t know much about your job, Doppio, but I’m a tattoo artist. No, I didn’t want to be one, but people said I look unprofessional for a ‘respectable’ job.”

“I’ve been telling you to cut your hair shorter,” Sorbet responded. “And don’t use black lipstick.”

“Doppio, do you have any tattoos?” Risotto asked, ignoring Sorbet. The black-haired man frowned slightly.

“I do, but I don’t remember when I got it.” Doppio rolled up his sleeves.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting tattoos,” Sorbet commented.

“That reminds me. Risotto, can you tattoo Sorbet’s name on my chest?” Gelato asked.

“Sure, but you got to pay. I don’t tattoo for free,” he answered.

“Damn it, Sorbet?”

The black-haired man sighed. “Fine. I might as well get a tattoo myself. Anyways, we should go. It’s getting late.”

Sorbet and Gelato left.

“Forgive Gelato. He gossips a lot,” Risotto said. “I noticed you looked surprised when I told you I’ve been looking for you. Did anything happen?”

“No,” Doppio lied. “What about you? What did you do that night?”

Risotto was oddly quiet. “Wondering what I should do with my life.”

“Yeah, I wonder that too.”

“Do you have your life planned out?”

“I never did.”

“Truly? Did you ever want to be something when you were little? I wanted to be a soccer player.”

“What stopped you?”

“My cousin died.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“Well, what about you?”

“When I met my ex-wife—we aren’t divorced yet—I wanted to be a sailor. That changed when—when something happened.” Doppio tried to concentrate on the memory, but then he felt light-headed and fainted.

-

Doppio awoke in somebody’s bedroom. It was dark, but he could still see. Dark clothing lay on the floor, band posters were all over the wall, and the room smelled of cigarettes.

“Hello?” Doppio nervously uttered.

Nobody answered.

Curious about where he was, Doppio got out of bed and started wandering. He was in an apartment with two bathrooms, the bedroom he was just in, another bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room. The other bedroom was beyond a mess and smelled funny, and somebody left dirty dishes on the filthy kitchen counter, but at least there weren’t any roaches yet.

He could leave, but he felt like he shouldn’t. Waiting, Doppio sat on the blanket-covered couch and watched TV. Nothing entertaining was on. However, a VHS and some movies were below the TV, but he shouldn’t touch them, afraid to upset the owners if they returned. He tried to relax, but someone unlocked the door, causing him to jump a little.

Risotto opened the door and looked at him. “Doppio, you’re awake! What happened last night? Oh, and I just came back from work. How long have you been up?” He sat down on the couch with him. “Also, sorry about the mess. I live with my roommate, Formaggio. He’s very messy.”

“I think I’m suffering from memory loss. Every time I try to remember, I get a headache. Did I do anything?”

“No, you just passed out. Does this happen frequently?”

“That passing out part? No, I don’t think so. The memory loss? Yes.”

“Does your ex-wife know about your memory loss?”

“No, and I don’t want to explain it to her. She won’t listen to me anyways.”

“Why not?”

Doppio sighed. “You won’t be mad if I told you a lie, right?”

“I won’t be mad, but I’m guessing you lied about your job. Yeah, I figured that.”

“This is going to sound strange, but I don’t know what my job is. My boss calls me to the docks, something happens, and then I don’t know. The day I met you at the bar was when my daughter found drugs in my suitcase. I swear! I don’t know how that got there, but my wife kicked me out!”

“Wait, wait. How old are you again?”

“24. You’re not concerned about the drugs?”

“Wow, I didn’t expect you to have a kid. And no, not really, but your boss sounds shady.”

“It’s strange. I don’t remember having sex with my wife, and I don’t know who my boss is. Should he ever call, I will tell him I quit.”

“Hold on. About your ex-wife, if this woman did anything to you—”

“No, no! Don’t! I’m done with her, anyways.” Doppio placed his head on Risotto’s shoulder. “I feel like it’s better this way.”

Risotto noticed his hands were closer to Doppio’s. He held his hand.

“Have you ever been with anyone?” Doppio asked.

“No, not really. I’ve kissed a couple of guys, but the kisses never meant anything. Do you remember the first time you kissed your wife?”

“I don’t remember the first kiss, but I remember kissing her.” And I don’t feel anything from her.

Risotto leaned in, going in for a kiss. Doppio closed his eyes and let him kiss him. It was a short but sweet kiss.

“Can I have another?” he asked.

Risotto smiled and obliged. The kiss was longer, and they held each other tightly.

Doppio withdrew. His heart raced, and he felt warm. He never had this feeling when he was with Donatella. “This feeling…I’ve never felt this before.”

Risotto grabbed the blanket and wrapped themselves around it. “And how does it feel?”

He snuggled against him. “This feels great. I feel whole. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Risotto kissed his forehead and then his lips again. “Hey, do you want to watch a movie? I bet you were bored waiting for me. A foreigner told me to watch Never Cry Wolf. I thought it would be a boring documentary, but I liked it.

“Yeah! Anything to spend more time with you.”

Risotto got up from the couch and inserted the VHS tape. He sat down again, cuddling with his new boyfriend. “Hmm, that reminds me. I forgot to ask what your favorite animal was.”

“I like frogs.”

“And I like snakes.”

The movie came on.