Lonely Day - Chapter 7: Cheydinhal

Trish woke up next to Fugo, who was still sleeping. The last thing she remembered was the last room in Fort Blueblood, fighting that one man. Trish got out of bed and realized she was still wearing the same dress she wore yesterday. She quickly changed into her new one and woke the golden blond up.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Probably seven or eight in the morning,” she answered. “I’ll see if Giorno is up. We’ll be downstairs.”

Trish left the room, and Fugo slowly got out of bed. He was still tired, but he changed anyway, no matter how slow his pace was. Fugo got a headache and touched his head in response. Dressed up, he left the room to meet up with Giorno and Trish.

Downstairs, they were sitting at a small round table, eating breakfast. Fugo sat down with them.

“Giorno,” Fugo said, “your enemies are strong.”

“And your enemies are mysterious,” he replied, referring to Prosciutto.

“Did I miss something?” Trish asked.

“That’s somebody I work with,” Fugo said, talking to Giorno.

“Is he someone from the arena?” he continued asking questions.

“No.”

“Is there some other job you’ve taken?” Giorno knew he wasn’t a part of the Thieves Guild because then they would’ve known each other. “Perhaps the Fighters Guild?”

“I’ve never been a part of the Fighter Guild before.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t have the time.”

“You know,” Trish added, “I’ve been wondering how you’ve been making a lot of money. There’s no way you get all those coins from the arena alone.”

“I help others. People need help sometimes, and when people need some help, it improves my image when I help them.”

Giorno didn’t have the heart to tell him the members of the Mages Guild still gossip about what he did and wondered what he was doing besides fighting in the arenas. “Oh,” he commented. Giorno couldn’t think of him working for a group except for the Dark Brotherhood, but Fugo seems like a great guy. Maybe he did help others, but it didn’t improve his image as he thought it did.

“So, Trish,” Fugo said, “which road are we using?”

“Does it matter?” she asked. “And what are you going to do once we get to Cheydinhal? Didn’t you want to avoid that city?”

“I’m not afraid anymore. I’ll happily join you.”

“We don’t we use the Yellow Road?” Giorno said. “We should arrive at the Imperial Bridge Inn when it starts to get dark.”

“What about the dangers on the road?” Fugo asked. “There aren’t any cities on the road.”

“Doesn’t seem to be a problem since we can all handle ourselves.”

-

It was just as Giorno said. The three managed to get to the Imperial Bridge Inn right when the sky darkened. While they were on the road, there were some bandits and undead on the road, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. However, once they were at the inn and rented the beds for the night, they noticed all the beds were in one room.

“We should’ve taken the other road,” Trish complained.

“We won’t look, Trish. It’ll be like when we traveled to Skingrad, and you got kidnapped and had to change clothes.”

The two blonds turned around, letting Trish change into her nightwear. Then it was Fugo and Giorno’s turn to change, and she looked away, giving them privacy. Afterward, they all slept.

-

Giorno woke up first and changed into his robes, going downstairs soon after. Then Trish woke up and looked into her bags for clothes. She sighed, looking at her old clothes. She had clothes of all the colors in her bags, but she didn’t feel like wearing them again. Fugo woke up and noticed Trish on the floor.

“Good morning. What are you doing down there?” Fugo asked.

“Figuring out what to wear. I’ve already worn all of these.”

“Just wear the same dress.”

“The same dress? No! I must wear something new.”

Fugo sighed. “I’ll be downstairs.”

He changed first before going. Once down, he spied Giorno from outside the window. He went outside and stood next to him in the garden. The view of the river and hillside was breathtaking.

“Morning, Giorno,” Fugo said.

“Good morning. Where’s Trish?”

“Trying to figure out what to wear.”

“Oh. By the way, how’s your new armor? It looks heavy.”

“I was trained to wear heavy armor. Anyways, I like it. It could use some enchantments, though. I might need someone from the Mages Guild to enchant it for me. Speaking of which, I’m thinking about rejoining. I’ll probably have to speak to Raminus Polus.”

“I don’t think you have to.”

“I still should talk to Raminus to let him know I rejoined.”

They decided to sit down for a while and wait for Trish.

“So,” Giorno spoke, “what will you be doing once we’re finished with this?”

Get far away from Cyrodiil. “First, I’m going to see if I fit in the Mages Guild. If not, I guess it’s back to the arena with me.”

“Trish will probably be busy. Let’s spend as much time with her as we can.”

They heard someone enter outside, walking over to where they were sitting. It was Trish.

“Hey, is it okay if I sit in the middle?” she asked.

The two gave her room. While sitting with her, Fugo and Giorno grabbed her hands.

“What a nice day,” she commented. “I want to be here forever.”

They sat on the bench for a while, letting the gentle breeze cool them off, and watched the river flow. ‘Twas a pleasant Second Seed day.

Trish stopped grabbing their hands and got up from her seat. “We should move on.”

-

The three were at Cheydinhal, the last place for Trish’s recommendation. The pink-haired High Elf looked at Fugo’s reaction when they entered the city. He was calm. Inside, they wasted no time chatting with strangers and headed straight to the guildhall. There, they spoke to Deetsan, an Argonian, who was upstairs, making potions. She heard their footsteps, stopped what she was doing, and turned around to face them.

“Greetings, Giorno!” she said. “Oh, hello, Fugo. Who’s this High Elf?”

“I’m Trish,” she answered. “This is the last place for a recommendation.”

“There is one thing you could do. Lately, a necromancer has been raising the dead along the Yellow Road. Southeast of here is Hame, an Alyeid ruin. It should be near Boethia’s shrine. If these two weren’t around, I’d ask you not to engage in combat and report back to me. However, since you have these two, your new task is to clear the ruins of necromancers. And Trish, before you go, here’s a spell tome. Study it for a bit. Good luck, you three.”

The three left the guild hall and chatted outside.

“Fugo,” Trish said, “I noticed you were inside the guildhall. Normally, you stay outside.”

“I want to rejoin the Mages Guild,” he replied.

“Since when?”

“Ever since we went to Bravil.”

“Really? Whatever for?”

“I want to spend more time with you and Giorno,” he told a half-truth. He wanted to, but he was going to complete that contract.

“Oh. Anyway, let’s head to Hame. I’ll be studying this spell tome.”

-

In almost two hours, they arrived at Hame. The grass around the ruins was dry and dying, and three skeletons guarded the area. The skeletal archer guarded the stairs while the other two patrolled around the ruins.

Trish used her staff’s power at the archer. The other two faced her and charged, but Giorno took care of the two with an explosive fireball, sending their bones and weapons flying. Fugo took point and went down the stone stairs, heading inside the ruins.

The three were in the corridor of the ruin and walked ahead, stopping at the iron windows. Fugo peaked and saw nobody on the floor below them. They went down to that floor, leading to two other rooms.

“There’s someone in the room to the left,” Giorno said.

Fugo sheathed his sword and took out his bow, sneaking into the room on the left. A Breton necromancer stood idle and had not spotted them yet. He drew his bow and let loose his arrow, aiming directly at his head.

“Is it alright if I check for any treasure?” Giorno asked.

“Make it quick,” Fugo said.

And Giorno did.

“That fast?” Trish commented. “What did you find?”

“An old ring and some coins. Nothing special. Let’s continue forth.”

They went into the other room and spotted a High Elf necromancer from across the other side, blocking the path behind. In front of the elf were two traps: one spike pit and one ceiling spike. Just as Fugo did with the first necromancer, he shot at his head.

“Nice shot,” Giorno commented. “How’d you get so good with those headshots?”

“Practice.”

Avoiding the traps, they headed into a corridor that split into two paths. To their left was a room with some treasure, while straight ahead led to more stairs. Fugo tried to go to the left, but somebody locked the gate. He tried opening the lock, but his lockpick broke.

“Damn it!”

“Let me try,” Giorno said. He tried opening the lock with magic and then lockpicks. “I think we might need a key. Well, let’s find it. Let’s head down the stairs.”

A zombie approached them as they went to the stairs, attacking Fugo first with its frail arms. He decapitated it, but the body still moved. Then he seared its rotting flesh, killing it, and then he and the others descended the stairs.

There were on the lower level now. A caged Varla stone was in front of them. To the left was another door, probably locked. Straight ahead was a corridor leading to somewhere, and to the right was a button and a room around the corner.

“Do you think that button on the right activates the cage?” Trish asked.

“I guess we’ll find out. I’ll press the button just in case,” Fugo volunteered.

He went to the hall on the right and pressed the button at the end, which lifted the cage. While he was at the end of the hall, he managed to see a large empty room with a hooded necromancer. They haven’t spotted him yet, but Fugo drew his bow, walking a bit closer to get a better shot. However, as he got close, he accidentally stepped on a pressure plate. A wrought iron gate appeared out of the ground, blocking his way forward. There was a hole he could shoot out from, but he didn’t want to risk it and went back to the others.

“So, what was over on that side?” Giorno asked.

“Just another room with a necromancer. A gate is blocking the way, though. Let’s go straight and see if we can find a way to bring the gate down.”

They went straight into the corridor where a necromancer was vigilantly on guard and spotted them right away.

“Intruders!” the High Elf woman’s voice echoed.

She summoned two skeletons, both wielding two glass claymores.

“Three versus three. A fair fight, don’t you think?” the necromancer spoke.

Trish attacked the necromancer with her staff, but she absorbed the attack with a ward spell.

“You’re using a staff? How pathetic. Learn to cast some spells, girl!” she insulted.

Fugo, angered by her words, charged at her, but one of the skeletons parried his blow. He then tried to kick one of the skeleton’s legs, hoping it would fly off, but the necromancer’s magic held it in place.

The other one was about to attack Fugo, but Giorno flung one of his spells at it, grabbing its attention. As he kept attacking with spells, the skeleton hissed, indicating it felt pain. However, it got close to him, causing Giorno to defend himself with an ax he conjured. It overpowered him and made the Breton fall to the ground.

Before the skeleton could finish him off, Trish cast a fire spell at it, killing it.

“I won’t be defeated by some talentless mage and her lackeys!” the necromancer cried before shooting a bolt of lightning at Trish, sending her flying to the end of the hall.

“Trish!” Fugo yelled and disengaged the skeleton, running to her.

Giorno was alone with the necromancer and skeleton. He summoned a flame atronach to even the fight.

“And why didn’t you summon help before?” she asked.

“Conjuration is not my thing. By the way, your skeletons hurt.”

He cast a spell on himself, making it look like he was healing.

“I grow tired of this. Die.” The necromancer cast a shock spell, but it deflected and hit her. “What?”

“Don’t be surprised. Your spell deflected and hit you.”

“A master of mysticism. I respect that. I think you would’ve been a great necromancer.”

“I have no interest in raising the dead,” Giorno said before landing a killing blow.

Once done with the necromancer, he went to Trish, who was lying on the floor. Fugo knelt beside her.

“Took you long enough,” the Imperial said. “I gave her a potion, so she’ll be fine.”

Trish groaned.

“Come on, get up,” Fugo said. “The sooner we’re done with this, the better.”

“I’ll heal her while we’re behind you,” Giorno said.

There was another hallway to the left that led to a big room. Worm Cult banners hung on the walls, and a lifeless body lay mutilated on top of a stone tomb. An alerted necromancer stood around, looking at the two entrances to the room. Luckily, the darkness concealed the three of them. Fugo shot and killed the necromancer, but a zombie hiding behind a wall noticed where the shot came from and spotted them. Trish used her staff to kill it.

With the room empty of enemies, Giorno scoured for some treasure, finding a button on the wall instead.

“I found a button,” he said. “Should I press it? Does it open that gate you mentioned before?”

“I don’t know,” Fugo answered. “Press it and find out.”

Giorno pressed the button, but nothing inside the room happened.

“I think the gate is down.”

They returned to the hallway to the right and avoided the pressure plate. The necromancer Fugo saw earlier was gone, probably to alert the people downstairs.

“Is Trish alright, yet?” Fugo asked. “There might be a big fight ahead.”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “I don’t know if I should continue, though. You guys know plenty of spells, but I can only cast a few weak ones.”

“You get better as you fight,” Giorno said.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not the fighting type.”

“Trish, you’re so close to getting into the Arcane University,” Fugo said. “You’ve come so far.”

She sighed. “You’re right.”

The three went downstairs, going deeper into the ruins. They went down the hallway and stepped into an enormous chamber with a burning altar. There was also a counter with alchemy equipment. They stepped inside. If they wanted to turn back, they couldn’t. A gate closed behind them.

“Did we step on something?” Trish asked.

Before the two could answer, someone spoke. “Master Vanilla!” the necromancer Fugo spotted before yelled. He was at the far end of the room. “Where are you? Do I press this button? What will happen?”

“Vanilla,” Giorno whispered. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Doesn’t matter. This one dies with the rest.”

Fugo’s arrow killed the necromancer.

“Where is this Vanilla guy?” the Imperial asked. He had his bow still out and moved slowly, watching the shadows for anything that moved.

“There’s something strange about these walls,” Trish commented. She got closer to the wall and then retreated to Fugo’s side. “I hear something.”

“Hey!” Giorno grabbed their attention. He was standing near a gate at the end of the chamber. “I think I found the way out, but we need a key. There’s also this button next to me.”

“Maybe that button will activate the walls Trish was talking about,” Fugo said. “I haven’t spotted the key, but maybe it could be behind one of these walls. Activate it.”

Giorno pressed the button, causing stones to scrape. The wall on the left Giorno activated released a skeleton. Trish blasted it with a fire spell.

“Do you think it held the key?” Fugo asked.

“Probably not, but I see a small Alyeid container and a button,” Trish said. “Want me to see what’s inside and press the button?”

“Sure, go.”

She went into the long narrow room, checked the container, and pressed the button, activating one of the walls.

A ghost and a headless zombie poured out of the opened room on the right. Fugo took out the zombie while Giorno handled the other one.

“I’ll see if there’s anything behind that room,” Giorno said. He went in. “No key, but there’s another button.”

“Again?” Fugo complained. “Press it. Vanilla has to be behind a wall.”

The Breton pressed the button.

“Has it been three days yet?” yelled Vanilla, walking into the middle of the room. “Wait, I know you.”

“Do we, necromancer?” Fugo said.

Hearing the two converse, Giorno and Trish quickly retreated to their lover’s side.

“Ah, I see we meet again,” Vanilla looked at the Breton. “As for the others, do you not remember me? Does Serpent Hollow Cave ring a bell?”

“The necromancer from before!” Trish remembered.

“Giorno, I will not kill you, but I will give you a gift once I defeat these two.”

“You won’t! They’re stronger than you think. I—” Giorno yelled before Vanilla’s spell paralyzed him. He landed face first into the cold stone ground.

Vanilla sighed. “Children, they just don’t know when to be quiet.”

Vanilla then summoned five ghosts to defeat Trish and Fugo.

“Trish, can you handle these ghosts? I’ll try to take this guy in a fight.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Before Trish could cast a spell at one of them, a ghost hit her with a frost spell. She fought back with a shock spell, having to cast her spell twice before killing it.

As for Fugo, he swapped his bow for a sword and charged toward him. Vanilla tried stopping him with a freezing whirlwind, hitting not just him but Trish as well.

“He hit me!” Trish yelled.

Four ghosts remained, and one of them hit her with a silencing spell. Unable to cast, she used her staff, taking out one of them.

Vanilla cloaked himself in an icy torrent and placed a rune in front of him. “You’ll be tired before you can reach me!”

He was right. As soon as Fugo stepped on the rune, he felt his stamina drain. He kneeled, trying to catch his breath. Vanilla cackled and began casting a chain lightning spell. However, Fugo looked at him and shot a stream of fire from his free hand. The necromancer cast a ward spell, but the flames broke through and burned half his face off.

Fugo sat on the ground and looked at Trish. She zapped the last three ghosts with her staff. She turned around and faced Giorno, rushing to his side.

The Imperial was still catching his breath. “How is he?” he asked.

“He’s still paralyzed,” she said. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. See if you can find the key in the room Vanilla came out of.”

She went into the room on the far left. A book and key laid on a table, and she took both of them and returned to Fugo and Giorno. The paralyzing spell on the Breton had worn off, and he lay on the floor with Fugo.

“What did you find?” Fugo asked.

“Just a key and a book. I didn’t see what was inside. Hmm, I think it’s his diary. In that case, maybe Giorno should have it. Vanilla did know your dad.”

She gave the book to him.

“Thanks, I’ll read it once we get back. I’m tired.”

“Same,” the other two said.

The Gladiator and his Admirer

Sweat ran down Fugo’s body due to the sun’s blazing heat and having to move around so much. Fugo was supposed to execute three prisoners. Before he could kill the last one, he fought back. Unlike the other two, this guy was muscular, and he managed to disarm Fugo with his chains.

Fugo dodged his swings. He expected him to be slow. The prisoner managed to land a blow to Fugo’s face, hitting him in the jaw. One of his teeth fell out, and he spat out blood. No way he was losing to a prisoner. The thought of it made Fugo’s blood boil. He screamed, charged toward the prisoner, and beat him to a pulp.

Emperor Dio and one of his sons, Giorno, watched as Fugo pulverized the last prisoner to death.

“I wasn’t expecting one of the prisoners to fight back,” Dio commented.

“Wow, who is this guy?” Giorno asked.

Dio didn’t care about the gladiators, but this one he knew. He was once a wealthy citizen, but his rage got the best of him, and he ended up murdering someone. “That is Pannacotta Fugo.”

“He’s good-looking. Could I speak to him?”

“Of course, but hurry up. We should head home soon.”

-

Fugo was in the barracks with his bed, a table, and a bucket of water to keep him company. He washed his face, looked at his helm on the table, and kicked the bucket, water spilling onto the stone floors. He should’ve worn his helmet.

“Is something wrong?” a voice called to him.

The golden blond looked at the door where the voice was. It was Giorno, but why was he here?

“Sorry,” Fugo said, “I should’ve worn my helmet. I wasn’t expecting the last prisoner to fight back. I’ll be more alert next time should I execute another prisoner.”

Giorno got closer to him, hand on his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“I never had my teeth knocked out before. It’s painful. When I rest my tongue on the spot, the pain is even worse.”

“I’m so sorry.” Giorno took his hand off and looked at Fugo’s body. His body was slightly muscular, but the others Giorno passed on the way to his room were bulkier than him. “You’re not built like the other gladiators.”

“I haven’t been one for long.”

“Other than the most recent fight, have you done any other fights?”

“No, but I’ve been training with Carne. He’s a big fat gladiator. You’ve probably seen him.”

A shiver went down Giorno’s spine. “That guy? And you survived your training with him? Has that guy killed anyone while training?”

“No, Carne has to refrain himself.”

“He knows restraint?”

Fugo giggled and sat down on his bed. Giorno sat with him. “I was scared of him when I got here. He kicked my ass and shaped me up. Oh, and there was this one time—”

As Fugo chatted away, Giorno looked at his face, admiring his purple eyes. They were gorgeous, as was his face. Then he noticed the gladiator’s eyes widening. Whatever he saw caused him to stop talking, which made Giorno turn around, facing the large man in the doorway. It was Carne.

“Giorno, your father wants you home,” Carne said.

“Hold on,” the blond said. “I’ll see if I can get my father to take you home with me.”

Giorno darted out of the room.

“He likes you,” Carne commented before leaving Fugo’s room.

-

It took Giorno a few minutes to convince his father to take Fugo to their home. He sat with Giorno on his bed. Everything, the marble, the columns, and the paintings, reminded Fugo of what he once had and caused him to sigh.

“Is something wrong?” the blond asked.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m just a little tired,” Fugo replied.

“Sorry for dragging you here, but I felt you deserve to spend your time resting somewhere nicer.”

Giorno’s hand got closer to Fugo’s. Carne was right. At least it was Giorno who liked him and not his brothers. Donatello was decent-looking, but he heard rumors about him. Rikiel’s appearance wasn’t bad either, but his health was declining. Ungalo was just flat-out hideous. And as for Giorno, he was gorgeous, and he seemed gentle.

Giorno’s fingers intertwined with Fugo’s, breaking the gladiator from his thoughts. “Is it alright if I kiss you?”

Why did he ask permission? “Yes, sir,” Fugo answered without fear. Though, he wished the praetorian guard near the entrance would go away. Dio probably ordered him there due to Fugo’s past.

Then Giorno’s lips got closer to his, and the both of them closed their eyes, their lips locked. Fugo’s heart beat rapidly. Giorno wrapped his arms around his, and Fugo would return the hug, but the guard wouldn’t like that. The blond stopped hugging and withdrew from the kiss.

“I wish I could be with you,” Giorno said. His face had a frown.

Dio had probably arranged a marriage. If Fugo had to guess, Giorno would be marrying Trish Una.

“Maybe in another life,” Fugo replied, trying to comfort him.

The blond lay on the left side of the bed, facing Fugo. “Lay with me.”

Fugo lay on the bed with him, and this time he hugged him, not caring what the guard thought. The blond returned the hug, cuddling with him in bed. The guard did nothing but watch.

“Tell father I want Fugo to stay with me for the night,” Giorno ordered the guard.

“Yes, sir!” The guard looked at somebody they couldn’t see. “You there, servant, tell Dio that Giorno wants Fugo to stay for the night.”

“Right away,” said the servant.

“Maybe once the servant returns,” Giorno said, “he’ll play some music. Would you like that?”

Fugo smiled and nodded.

The servant returned and played his lyre. The sky had not completely darkened, yet the music lulled the gladiator to sleep. He fell asleep in Giorno’s arms.

Garden Story | Alright, Let's Play This Game

 

What Happened to Him?

 

Testing Again

 

Well, There Goes my Car

 

Date Time at Disneyland

It was Giorno’s idea to bring them here for their date. Fugo didn’t have a problem with Disneyland. It was the state they were in that worried him. While on the drive to Disneyland, the buildings looked worn, old, and ugly. However, once inside the theme park, it was colorful. It was nice, but Fugo was still on edge, worried.

“Giogio, I love you and all, but couldn’t we have gone to France? Why Florida?” Fugo asked as they walked amongst the crowd. “I hear a lot of crazy things about this state. We could’ve at least gone to California.”

“I felt drawn to this place. Well, not this place specifically. And what did you hear?” Giorno asked, still walking.

“Florida man throws alligator into a Wendy’s. Florida man breaks into jail to hang out with friends. Florida man stabs a tourist despite having no arms. Florida man—”

“Okay, I get it,” Giorno interrupted. “Look!”

The blond pointed at the Mad Tea Party, a spinning tea cup ride.

“Don’t tell me you want to get on it?” Fugo had a frown on his face. “What’s the point of spinning around? Besides, I heard somebody slipped from the teacup.”

“Well, I want to get on it,” Giorno said. “Come on. You might have fun. Have you ever been to an amusement park?”

He always wanted to go to one, but his parents made his only free time studying. Also, his parents were strict about how they spent their money despite being rich. However, as an adult, Fugo believed he was too old for it now. “No, but are you sure we should be doing this? Have you called Mista to see how things are doing? I’m worried.”

Giorno grabbed his hand and took him to the queue for the ride. “Don’t be. Let’s just have fun together. I always wanted to go to an amusement park, but my parents didn’t want to spend money. Besides, you seem tense.”

“You’re right, Giogio. Floridians scare me.”

After waiting patiently in line, they got on the ride and spun around. Fugo looked at a smiling Giorno to avoid getting dizzy. It’s been a while since he’s seen him smile. The last time Fugo remembered him smile was when Giorno drank from the teapot Abbacchio peed in.

“Remember when you drank Abbaccio’s special tea?” Fugo said.

“Oh, you remember that?” Giorno replied.

Fugo ended up laughing. “Yeah! We were so disgusted but also curious. Then I remembered you smiling. There was something yellow in your teeth.”

After a few minutes of the cups twirling, they had to get off. Unsure of what to do next, they walked around the park and bought some snacks.

“Hey, Fugo,” Giorno said. “Let’s get on the roller coaster ride.”

They were near the Incredicoaster.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We just ate a couple of snacks. We might throw up if we do.”

“It’s just a couple.”

Fugo looked at the height. “I don’t know. It looks scary.”

“Have you been on a roller coaster ride?”

“No.”

“Neither have I. I’m going to make it my first!”

Surprisingly, the line was short.

“Oh boy, we’re really doing this,” Fugo commented, regretting the decision as they got on the ride.

“You know, you don’t have to join me on this ride,” Giorno said. “It hasn’t started. You can get off.”

“What? I want to spend time with you! I never want to leave your side ever again!” He squeezed his hand.

“Fugo.” Giorno smiled.

He would’ve kissed him, but the shoulder restraints kept him from doing that. Then the ride started moving and stopped before it could go up.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Fugo said.

“Five, four, three, two, one! Go!” shouted the kid from the Incredibles movie.

The ride suddenly went faster.

“Shit!” the golden blond yelled, tightening his grip on Giorno’s hand.

The ride dropped. Fugo felt like he was falling. Then it made a lot of turns.

“I think I’m going to bed sick,” someone said.

The ride went up and then down. Instead of terror, Fugo felt euphoria.

“This isn’t so bad,” he commented. “The wind in my hair feels great! Hey, a loop ahead!”

He had his arms up. Never in his life did he have much fun.

After the loop, the ride was pretty much over.

“That was fun!” Fugo said as he got off the ride. “We should do that again, Giogio.” Giorno was quiet. “Giogio?”

He turned around, and it looked like Giorno was about to vomit.

“Giogio!”

Fugo helped Giorno get out of the ride and took him to the nearest bathroom. The park was tidy, but the bathrooms, however, were not.

“Giogio, sorry for not taking you to a cleaner bathroom,” Fugo said.

He heard Giorno flush the toilet. “It’s fine.” Giorno barged out of the stall. “Ugh, I feel dizzy, though. I think we should head to the hotel.”

The two got out of the bathrooms.

“Hold on. I don’t know where we are,” Fugo said. He brought the map from his pocket and noticed the Disney characters missing. “Wait, what? Where the hell is Mickey? If there’s no Mickey, this shit ain’t Disney! Whatever, I know where to go.”

They managed to get out of Disneyland. Fugo was at the diver’s seat while Giorno sat next to him.

“That was fun,” Fugo said. “We should do this again.”

Giorno smiled. “Yeah. You squeezed my hand tightly when the ride got faster.”

Fugo giggled. “I got scared, but then my fears disappeared. I’m glad we got on that ride. Maybe we should go on different rides next time to avoid getting sick. We could go on the boat ride next time, perhaps?”

“Sure!”

The two stared at each. Fugo leaned in for a kiss, but then Giorno had to vomit again. He did it outside the car.

“I’m sorry!” Giorno said. “I think I need to lie down somewhere.”

Fugo started the car. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. We’ll get to the hotel as soon as we can.”

Cyberpunk 2077 | Doing Side Jobs Again

Testing (Posting Scheduled Video)

 

Changes

It was business as usual in Giorno’s villa. Giorno was issuing orders from his computer or phone, and Fugo stood by his door. As Fugo was guarding, he heard a sigh coming from Giorno and then footsteps. The boss opened the door.

“Is something the matter, Giogio?” the purple-eyed man said.

“Panna,” his boss called him, “do you ever get tired of doing the same thing repeatedly?”

There had been a few moments where a couple of hitmen tried and failed to bring him down, but Fugo and the other bodyguards handled them. However, there were a lot of moments of just standing around, doing nothing but watching attacks that didn’t come.

“Yeah,” Fugo answered. “And I could use a day off.”

“I’m surprised you finally asked for a day off. I’ve noticed the older we get, the more Mista asks for more days off.”

“He is older than us. Hmm, that’s strange.”

“What is?” Giorno asked.

“This feeling of being old. I feel like I had felt this a long time ago.”

Giorno remembered. “We were protecting Trish, and Bruno and Mista had to fight off a guy who could age us.”

“I don’t remember that. Anyway, where are we going?”

“A place we haven’t set foot in ages.”

-

After Giorno became boss, the gang was busy getting rid of the drugs in Italy. The two tried to spend more time in Libeccio as possible, but too many things happened, so they had to stop coming.

Giorno’s driver dropped them off, and the two went inside, where the host greeted them.

“I know who you are!” the host said. “The former host who worked here showed me a picture of you. You sat at a table away from the other customers. I’ll have you guys seated over there.”

While they were walking to the table, Giorno noticed many young people recording or taking pictures of their food with their smartphones.

“Who takes a picture of their food?” the boss commented.

Fugo didn’t answer.

The two sat down at the table where the original gang used to sit. Giorno thought this would be a good idea, but then he saw Fugo’s quivering lips. And he could’ve sworn he saw a teardrop in his eye.

“Panna…” Giorno called out, concerned for his husband.

“Sorry, Giogio,” Fugo explained, “I just miss them so much.”

“I understand. I miss them too, especially Bucciarati.” He sighed and opened his menu. “We should order something.”

“You’re right.” Fugo gained his composure and opened his menu. “What the hell? Did they remove my usual?”

Giorno saw him grip the menu with force, Fugo’s arms shaking. “It’s alright. My favorite, the octopus salad, isn’t on here anymore. Try the other things. You might like it. I want the fried calamari for the appetizers and maybe the eggplant parmigiana.”

“Hmm, I have never seen this on the menu. This shrimp fra diavolo sounds good.”

“D-Diavolo?” Giorno began shaking.

“Giogio, are you okay?

“Yeah. Darling, could you please get something else?”

“Okay. You know, I just realized they removed all the dishes with octopus in them. I wonder why. Maybe I’ll ask the waiter that. I know octopus salad is your favorite.”

A middle-aged waiter came by their table. “Are you two ready to order?”

“I am,” Giorno said. “Fugo?”

“Ah, I’ll just have a Margherita pizza. I’m curious. What happened to the dishes with octopus in them?”

“A few years ago, the chief read an article about how octopuses were too intelligent to eat.”

Both of them lowered their eyebrows.

“Too intelligent to eat?” Fugo repeated. “Do you hear this?”

“Yeah,” Giorno answered. “Tell the chief that all life wants to live and thrive. Using intelligence as a metric to decide whether it’s morally right to eat an animal is strange, is it not?”

Beads of sweat ran down the waiter’s head. “O-oh. I’ll tell them that. S-so a Margherita pizza—”

“Fried calamari and eggplant parmigiana,” Giorno interrupted.

“Right. I’ll be back.”

The waiter ran off.

“Are we going to tip them?” Fugo asked.

“It’s not their fault octopus isn’t on the menu. We’ll tip them. That was an interesting conversation.”

April 6

Fugo guarded Giorno’s door to the office, watching ever so diligently. Nothing much was happening except he could hear Giorno rapidly tapping the keyboard. A few moments later, a smiling Mista walked into the hallways, carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He reached for the doorknob while also holding the bottle.

The golden blond tilted his head. “What’s that for?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Wait, of course, you don’t know. You weren’t there. Anyway, excuse me!” Mista opened the door.

Curious, Fugo went in.

Giorno typed away, focused on his work.

“Giorno, Giorno, come on!” Mista tried to grab the boss’s attention, and it worked.

Bemused, the blond looked at the gunslinger. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t you know what day it is?” Mista responded.

“It’s April 6.”

“And? Come on. I know you got this, boss!”

Giorno’s eyes widened, and he suddenly realized it. “Ah, Mista, I didn’t know it was your birthday! I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

The gunslinger’s wide smile disappeared. “Ouch, man. You don’t know my birthday?”

“Hey, boss,” Fugo butted in, “Mista’s birthday is on the third of December.”

“That’s not the point!” Mista said. “It’s when we defeated the boss! But seriously, boss, I even invited you to my birthday. You should’ve remembered.”

Fugo looked away and removed himself from the room, closing the door quietly on the way. From there, he could hear everything.

“I’m sorry, Mista,” Giorno said. Fugo heard him get out of his seat. “I guess I should take a break from what I’m doing.”

Fugo heard something get placed on a table, possibly the glasses and bottle.

“Wait, there’s only two,” Giorno noted. “What about Fugo?”

Giorno opened the door, causing Fugo to turn his head. They stared at each.

Fugo looked at him for a few seconds before looking away, and then the boss grabbed his hands and pulled him into the office.

“Mista, fetch a glass for Fugo,” he demanded.

“But he—fine! I’ll be right back!” Mista ran out of the room.

“Giorno?” Fugo looked at him, confused. “Why did you do that?”

“You’re part of the gang.”

The golden blond looked away from him. “But I abandoned you!”

“You’re here now. That counts.” The boss hugged him. “Panna…” he whispered.

Fugo hugged him back, cheeks flushed. He felt warm. “Giogio…”

They were inches away from kissing.

“Guys, I’m back!” Mista barged in. “I—oh!”

Fugo and the boss quickly got away from each other. Both of their cheeks flushed.

Mista placed the glass on the desk. “I’ll give you some time alone. Sorry.” He quickly left the room.

Immortals Fenyx Rising Screenshots

 

V JoJo Posing

 

Fugo Meets his Minecraft Boyfriend

It was morning, and Fugo stood outside the airport, nervous. He’d been talking to a guy name Haruno, who wanted to be called Giorno, in this chatroom meant for students who needed help with their homework. Fugo had been stressed out from his classwork and thought somebody out there could help. Although he doubted someone would help with his college assignment, a kid from Japan helped. He eventually chatted with him a bit and found out Giorno had been interested in befriending Italians due to their culture. Curious, Fugo asked why.

Giorno: I like the artworks from the Renaissance period. And I’ve seen some of the buildings on Google. Where do you live?

Fugo: Somewhere in Naples. You?

Giorno: Tokyo, Japan.

Fugo: No way! That far?

Giorno: Yeah. I just realized something. We never got to introduce ourselves. I’m Haruno. But just call me by my username.

Fugo: I’m Pannacotta, but my friends call me by my last name, Fugo.

Giorno: I have to go. Will we meet again?

Fugo: Sure!

After that day, Fugo had another homework assignment. He didn’t struggle on this one, but he got on the chatroom just to speak to Giorno. He got his work done quickly.

Fugo: Thanks for the help!

Giorno: That assignment seemed too easy. I wondered if you needed help.

Fugo: Well, it didn’t seem hard. I just wanted to talk to you.

Giorno: Really? Thanks! Maybe I should help you with your homework every day.

Fugo: Yesterday was the one I struggled with a lot. These teachers keep piling so much homework on me.

Giorno: Yeah. I could get some help with my homework here, but I don’t know. Some Japanese students can be rude on this site.

Fugo: Rude? I thought Japanese people were polite. Also, why don’t I help you?

Giorno: For one, that’s a stereotype. Two, people are cowards when hiding behind a screen. Three, my homework is in Japanese.

Fugo: How about I help you with the math homework, and you can teach me Japanese?

Giorno: Sure!

Giorno and Fugo helped each other with their homework for months, and they got to know each other’s birthdays and their favorite foods, songs, TV shows, and games. Their favorite game to play together was Minecraft, something they played frequently.

“Hey, Fugo,” Giorno said on the mic, “I’m going to need your help. I found some diamonds, but I’m near lava. Do you have any gravel?”

“Yeah,” Fugo replied, “but I’m in the forest. I’ll try to get to you, though. But wait, I thought you always had gravel in your inventory.”

“Usually, I do, but there was a large lava pool I filled in yesterday. I’ll head back to my house, though. I got a lot of coal and steel.”

“I’ll return to the house too. I have so much wood.”

Fugo got on the minecart. It was his idea to build that far away from their home. If they planted trees near their house, which was walled, they would’ve had protection from the sun.

It took him a few minutes to get to their houses. Fugo’s house looked basic while Giorno’s was decorative.

“Hey, Fugo! I’m in my basement,” Giorno said.

He climbed the ladder to his basement. It was smaller, but Giorno had time to make it bigger.

“You’ve been digging a lot lately, huh?” Fugo commented.

“Yeah. Do you think we could get some animals down in the mines? I’ve built a small home for us underground. It’s well lit, and I planted a tree down there.”

“How did you manage to grow a tree?”

“After I dug up all the gravel from the lava pool, I realized there was enough room to grow a tree. Oh, that reminds me, could I take some gravel?”

“Sure. I need to stop holding on to them, though.” Fugo tossed the two stacks of gravel near Giorno’s feet.

“Thanks. Do you want to come with me to the spot I mentioned?”

“Sure.”

They descended deep into the mines and stopped once they saw the underground tree. Cobblestone paved the floor, and there was one wooden house with a stone roof. Next to it was a small garden.

“Want to head inside?” Giorno asked.

“Your house? Sure,” Fugo answered.

“Our house,” he corrected. “I have to warn you. It’s not pretty, but I have a smoker and a bed inside. I have enough materials to make another bed for you, but…”

“Is something wrong?”

“Could we have our beds together?”

“Like a couple?”

“We’ve known each other for a long time. I thought you might be interested in me.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Fugo’s heart beat fast. “Yeah, yes! Let’s put our beds together.”

“Are we—”

“Together? Yeah!” Fugo took a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. My parents are thinking about planning a trip to Italy for my birthday. Maybe we could meet up?”

“Sure! Yes, of course!”

And now Fugo was here, standing outside the airport and waiting an agonizingly long time. He looked at people with black hair, examining details of their faces from a safe distance. All of them had black hair with brown eyes. Giorno’s eyes were turquoise.

“Fugo!” he heard a familiar voice.

It was Giorno, but Fugo had trouble searching for him. The voice sounded like it came from this family with a long-haired blond teenage boy, a ripped blond guy, and an East Asian woman.

“Fugo, over here!” the long-haired blond teen said.

“Giorno? Is that you?” Fugo walked closer to him. “What happened to your hair? Your selfies show you with black hair. When did you dye it?”

Once Fugo approached him, Giorno hugged him. Fugo wasn’t sure if that was his heart he could hear pounding or Giorno’s.

“Believe me,” Giorno’s dad spoke. “His hair turned blond in the middle of the flight. Not sure how. It could be my genes, perhaps. Anyway, I’m Haruno’s dad, Dio. Haruno, let’s head to the hotel to unpack first before you spend time with your friend.”

Umbrella

Fugo was outside in the chilling rain, knocking on Bruno’s door. He didn’t answer.

“Bucciarati?” he called out.

No answer. Bruno must be away. The golden blond sighed and walked away, heading to Abbacchio’s house to wait for the rain to stop. Or he would’ve if he hadn’t seen Giorno sprinting across the street towards a school.

“Giorno, where are you going?” Fugo shouted.

“Fugo?” the blond called out and ran towards him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to say the same thing. Why are you going inside that school?”

It was 3:15 PM and a Tuesday.

“It’s a boarding school that I attend,” Giorno answered.

“Oh, right. You attend school.” Fugo was soaking wet. “Can we head inside?”

“Right. Come on.”

They went inside the school and headed to Giorno’s room.

“Wow, your room is small,” Fugo commented. “I guess this is all you need, just a desk and a bed.”

“And a drawer,” Giorno said, looking for some clothes. He tossed a blue outfit and another one in black. “Your clothes are wet. You should change. Do you want to wear the blue or black one?”

His outfits were identical. Each had a boob window and ladybug. However, the black one grabbed his attention because some green colors were on it.

“I’ll wear the black one,” Fugo answered.

“Alright. I’ll let you change clothes first. Hopefully, it will fit.”

Giorno left the room while Fugo changed. The golden blond looked at the mirror in his room, staring for a while.

“Fugo, are you done? How does it fit you?” Giorno asked behind the door.

“It fits, but it feels strange,” he explained. “I’m not used to having my chest exposed. I’ll get out so you can change.”

Fugo stepped out of the room and waited for the other to change. Once he finished changing, the blond had an umbrella in his hand.

“You’re heading outside again?” Fugo questioned.

“Yeah, Bucciarati wanted me to collect the protection money.”

“That reminds me, where is Bucciarati? He’s not at home. Is he doing something?”

“Yeah, he and Mista are guarding someone. I think it might be all day. Why?”

“I got back from tutoring Narancia, and I usually head to Bucciarati’s house to watch TV or await orders.”

“Why not just go home?”

Right, Giorno doesn’t know. Why would he? “Can’t. Homeless.”

“Oh,” he said. “Why not just break in?”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“He’ll understand. If you don’t want to, I could think about something else on the way. For now, let’s just get this out of the way. Stick with me. I don’t have enough room under this umbrella.”

Fugo went with Giorno to collect money from the businesses around Naples. At first, the business owners thought Giorno wanted their money until Fugo explained that he was a new member. They gave them the money afterward. All that was left to do was collect cash from the docks.

“So, is joining the gang isn’t exactly as you thought?” Fugo said, making their way to the docks.

“I know that eventually, we’ll get a dangerous task,” Giorno said. “Are the docks any dangerous?”

“Hmm,” Fugo thought. The rain was pouring harder than usual. “Usually, Bucciarati sends Mista to the docks. Mista told me he got into a fight with a druggie while walking over there. After that, he told me nothing happened.”

“Why doesn’t Bucciarati send you? What about Narancia or Abbacchio?”

“Abbacchio doesn’t fight people. And as for Narancia, Bucciarati wants him to focus on his studies. Wait, you’re in school.”

“Yes, I am. Aren’t you in school too?”

Fugo sighed and explained his past to Giorno. After that, the blond apologized. Since they were talking so much, Giorno spoke about his past also.

“Wow,” Fugo commented. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Maybe I should’ve been nicer to you.”

“It’s fine. You’re with me now, hanging with me, wearing my clothes.”

Fugo didn’t realize it until now, but being under the umbrella made them look like a couple, causing the golden blond to blush. “True. Still, I wish I could’ve hung out with you sooner and more often. Well, we’re here at the docks. Want me to come with you?”

“Of course! I enjoy spending time with you.”

Then a druggie tackled Giorno, causing the blond to drop his umbrella. The druggie stabbed him multiple times.

“Asshole!” Fugo shouted.

Fugo brought out his stand and pulverized the baster. He ran towards Giorno, kneeling on the wet concrete.

“Giorno!” he panicked. It looked like he had lost a lot of blood. It was hard to tell due to the rain spreading the blood. Assuming the worst, he began crying.

“Fugo…” Giorno struggled to speak.

“Oh god, Giorno!” He sobbed uncontrollably. “I was just getting to know you! Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

With Fugo unaware, Golden Experience took one of Fugo’s ladybugs and repaired himself. The blood stopped seeping.

“Fugo, it’s alright,” Giorno said, no longer struggling.

“But it’s not! I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings!”

“Please, get up. You’ll get wet again. I’m already soaking wet from laying on the wet ground.”

“I—” Fugo sniffled and struggled to speak coherently.

Giorno got up to pick up his umbrella, causing the other to stop crying.

“What? Weren’t you just bleeding?” Fugo asked.

The blond helped the Fugo up. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. Let’s get this done, and we’ll go to Bucciarati’s house.”

After collecting protection money, they went to Bruno’s, and Giorno picked the lock to the door.

“I hope he doesn’t mind,” Fugo commented as Giorno opened the door.

“He’ll understand,” he responded, going in first. “Wow, nice house. You should tell him to make a copy of his key.”

Fugo went inside. They were both in the living room, and the two decided to watch TV until the rain disappeared. Both of them cuddled underneath the blanket Bruno left, keeping themselves warm.

“Hey, Fugo,” Giorno said, looking at him. “Thanks for being with me.”

Fugo stopped watching the TV and looked at the blond. His head did move a little bit, getting closer to Giorno, and the other’s head moved closer too. Their eyes closed, getting ready for the kiss.

And they would’ve kissed until Bruno came into the house unexpectedly, causing the two to get away from each other.

“Fugo, Giorno?” Bruno called out. “What are you two doing here?”

“Well, I had nothing to do after tutoring Narancia,” Fugo explained. “I tried to go here, but you weren’t there. Then I bumped into Giorno and ended up helping him collect the protection money. After that—”

“Sorry,” Giorno interrupted. “I was the one who broke into your house. Fugo had nowhere to go. I was about to leave. Here’s the money, by the way.”

Giorno got off the couch and handed Bruno the money.

“I’ll be on my way,” Giorno said to his capo.

“You can stay,” Bruno told him.

“I would, but I have school tomorrow. That, and I need to return Fugo’s clothes.”

“Giorno!” Fugo got out of the couch and hugged the blond. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you too.”

The blond left.

“You two seem to be getting along quite well,” Bruno commented.

Lonely Day - Chapter 6: Leyawiin

Giorno woke up in his bed and did a long stretch. He got out of bed and changed. Once he finished, he heard a knocking at the door.

“It’s me, Fugo!”

He opened the door. Usually, Fugo had to change in Giorno’s room, but something changed. His armor was on.

“You’re already dressed?” Giorno asked.

“Yeah. When I overslept yesterday, Trish changed her clothes while I was asleep.”

“So you watched her undressed.”

Fugo’s cheeks reddened. “Whoa, no! All I did was look away. Anyways, did we kiss yesterday? It feels like a dream.”

“No, that was real.”

Giorno placed a hand on his cheeks and tenderly kissed him, looking him in the eye as their lips parted. Fugo leaned in, wanting another kiss and wrapping his arms around his body. The golden blond stepped into the room, making Giorno step back, eventually backing him up to the opposite side of the wall. As for the door, it slowly closed itself. Fugo tackled Giorno with kisses. However, when the door creaked open, they stopped. Trish stood at the door.

“Forgetting me?” she said. She walked and stood next to Fugo, looking Giorno in the eyes. “I love you, both of you.”

She kissed Giorno and Fugo. Then she focused on kissing the blond, standing on her tippy toes. Giorno squeezed her. Fugo watched as they made out.

“Come on! I was kissing him,” he whined.

“Hey, you kissed him first!” Trish said. “Let me have my moment with him.”

They kissed for a while and then stopped. Giorno was hot, sweaty, and panting. As for Trish, she smiled, looked at Fugo, and kissed him.

“Let’s go, guys,” she said, leaving the room.

-

It was hot and humid in Leyawiin. Strands of hair clung to Fugo’s sweaty face.

“Perhaps you should’ve worn something lighter,” Trish commented.

“I don’t have anything besides what I have underneath this heavy armor,” he said.

Giorno fanned his face with his hands. “What about that green velvet outfit I saw you wear when we first met?”

“I didn’t want anyone to steal it. And what about you? You always wear the same pink robes.”

“All the robes you’ve seen me wear are different.”

“Why do you have the same robes?” Trish asked questions this time.

“As a mage, I’m used to wearing robes. As for the color, you never see anyone wearing pink robes. Why is that?”

“Maybe you bought them all. Anyways, once I get into the Arcane University, I hope to get those same pair of robes you have, Giorno.”

“You won’t find these robes, but I’ll happily give you them.”

“Really? Thanks!” She got close to Giorno and gave him a peck on the cheek. “So, any clue on what the recommendation might be about?”

“No clue. For my recommendation, I had to help Dagail regain her sanity.”

A clothing store distracted Trish. “Oh.”

She stood in front of the windows. The display window showed a purple velvet dress that exposed the shoulders. Next to it was a matching outfit for men. Trish turned her head and looked Fugo in the eyes.

“Fugo, you’re rich,” she said. “You should probably wear something cooler than that rusty armor you have.”

There was rust on his armor, and his glass sword had seen better days.

“I think you might need better equipment,” Giorno commented. “What you have seems old. Perhaps we can find you some armor and a new weapon.”

Fugo sighed. “Fine. Let’s guy Trish some clothes first.”

Trish squealed with joy. All three of them entered the clothing store. Despite Leyawiin having a largely poor population, this store was still running. The guard at the corner kept a close eye on them, primarily on Giorno. His stare made the Breton nervous and made him wonder if the guard knew he was a thief. Did Giorno look suspicious? He looked at his lovers, who were chatting. They didn’t seem suspicious. Suddenly, Giorno remembered what Teekeeus said to them and realized he was the only one wearing robes. A yellow outfit behind the counter grabbed his attention. It looked like the outfit Fugo first wore.

“Hey, Giorno.” Trish tapped on his shoulder. “Would you like an outfit? They have a spare purple outfit for men.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure purple is my color. How about the one in yellow?”

The Imperial store clerk took off the displays’ clothes. He placed them on the counter. “That would be 250 Septims.”

“Fugo, wait,” Giorno said. “Are you going to pay for my clothes? I’ll pay for my outfit myself.”

“Then you’ll have to pay 150,” he said.

“Why so much for the yellow outfit?” Trish asked.

“That was the last outfit.”

The three took their clothes from the counter, placed them in their bags, and then left. Trish went to the guildhall while Giorno and Fugo went to the Dividing Line. Tun-Zeeus, an Argonian, ran the store. Tun-Zeeus was at the grindstone, sharpening a weapon. He stopped once the two stepped in and went behind the counter.

“You look like you need some new armor,” the Argonian said.

Giorno browsed the light armor—chainmail, mithril, and elven—on display. Meanwhile, the only heavy armor sets were iron, steel, Dwarven, and Orcish. As for the weapons, there were only iron and steel swords. There was also a Daedric helmet on display, locked away behind a glass display case. Its glow indicated it was enchanted. A shame, though. Fugo didn’t like wearing helmets. That, and Trish would’ve complained that his outfit didn’t match.

Fugo looked at the Orcish armor. “I think I’ll have this.” He brought the armor to the counter.

“That would be 2,360 Septims,” Tun-Zeeus replied.

“Let me pay that for you, Fugo,” Giorno said.

“Do you even have enough? Also, I need my sword repaired.”

“I still have plenty. I probably don’t have enough to buy a horse, however.”

Giorno handed Tun-Zeeus the coins. Fugo took his armor, let the Argonian repair his weapon, and the two left, heading to the guildhall.

Inside, the two saw Dagail panicking around Trish.

“You don’t need those two!” the elderly High Elf shouted. “They’ll only hold you back from your true talents!”

She then turned to face Fugo. Fugo thought Dagail was a nutty old bat. When he set off to get his recommendations, she said something he didn’t understand. “Shadows surround you,” she had told him. Whether she was talking about the Dark Brotherhood, he did not know.

Dagail got closer to Fugo and placed her hands on his face. He swiped them. “You think you’re a part of the shadows, but they don’t like you, and they will hurt those closest to you.”

“Could you just get on with it?” Fugo said. “What does Trish have to do?”

“A swarm of zombies killed a traveling merchant on the road,” she explained. “Giorno, do you remember where you stopped Kalthar? There! It is in there! You must slaughter these zombies!”

“Then to Fort Blueblood,” Giorno said.

-

The sun was setting when they arrived at Fort Blueblood. The fort looked different than what Giorno remembered. The land was marshy and full of life, but everything around it was dead. Zombies roamed around the fort, moaning.

Fugo, Trish, and Giorno hid behind the trees.

“Trish, how do you want to handle this?” Fugo whispered.

“By going”—she moved away from the tree and cast a fire spell at one of the roaming zombies—“loud!”

The rest of the zombies charged at her, but her lovers took care of the rest. They ran inside the fort.

Inside, they were in the hallways, and the paths separated.

“If we go to the right, we will—what’s with the bars?” Giorno said.

“Were they there before?” Trish asked.

“No. Well, it looks like we’ll have to take the other way.”

“If whoever was here blocked the way, we should prepare for any traps they reset,” Fugo warned. “Do you remember what the traps were?”

“There were some swinging mace traps, but that was it.”

“Do you think they would’ve placed more traps?” Trish asked.

“Possibly. I doubt the necromancer replaced the treasure in the chest. Anyways, there’s this small empty room ahead. Be ready for a fight.”

Up ahead were two zombies, one of them headless. The three stood behind a couple of crates while the zombies roamed freely. Before Giorno, Trish, and Fugo could engage, the Imperial remembered what Dagail had said to Trish.

“Are we holding you back?” he asked her, whispering.

Trish turned to him. “What? No. I do have one thing to complain about, however. I can handle myself in a fight, but I don’t know many offensive spells. I rely too much on my fire spell, and it’s weak. Giorno, you taught me how to use clairvoyance. Is there something else you can teach me?”

“I can’t teach you how to cast a powerful fire spell, but maybe I can teach you how to soul trap something,” he whispered. “Do you have a soul gem?”

“No.”

Giorno tossed her a couple of them. “The biggest one I gave you is a greater soul gem while the smallest one is the lesser. The other one is a common soul gem. I don’t carry petty gems, but the grand soul gems are too valuable to give away. Also, stay clear of black soul gems. Now, for the soul trap spell, it’s difficult for me to tell you how to cast it, but I shall demonstrate it. I’m going to soul trap the zombie with the head. Watch and learn.”

Giorno stepped away from the crates and cast a spell at the zombie, grabbing its attention. The zombie charged, and then he killed it with a fire spell. Its soul went into the gem.

“Ah, I get it now!” Trish said. “At least I think I do. Let me try.”

The headless zombie tried to run towards Giorno but tripped on the other zombie’s body. As it tried to get back up, Trish cast the soul trap spell and killed it with her staff. She showed him the filled common soul gem.

“Excellent! If your staff runs out of power, you can use the gems to recharge it, but it’ll get consumed in the process.”

“That spell took a lot of magicka.”

“It’s an apprentice-level spell, and you’re just a novice. With time and practice, you’ll get used to it. We should move on.”

They were in another hallway, and Trish managed to step on a stone plate, triggering the blades on the floor.

“Whoops, I’m sorry,” she said.

“Well, that’s new,” Giorno commented.

“I see the lever, and I also see more traps. They’re runes,” Fugo mentioned.

“Let me deal with this,” Giorno said. He summoned a scamp and then knelt to talk to it. “Alright, I need you to go to the end of the hall. If you can try and pull the lever, that’ll be great.”

The scamp avoided the saw blades and activated the rune traps. However, it still lived and pulled the level, deactivating the traps. The three made it safely across the hall and into a larger room. A zombie and two rats were ahead, but Trish defeated the zombie with her staff. As for the two rats, Giorno’s scamp took care of them.

“We’re almost there,” Giorno said. “I wonder if the necromancer raised Kalthar.”

Before they could continue, they had to cover their nose. The stench of the dead was behind that door. Fugo went in first, then Trish, then Giorno. A zombie that had a bluish-green mist around it greeted them and attacked. Fugo thrust his sword through the zombie’s chest, and then Trish used her staff to kill it. More zombies approached, some freshly raised and some exposing some bones.

“Trish, you’ve never seen me cast a spell, have you?” Fugo asked.

“Huh?” She was more focused on the horde of zombies that approached them.

“Watch this.”

He sheathed his sword and had his arms out. Once the zombies got closer, he roasted them with a powerful flame spell. Some of the flesh melted off their rotting skin.

“Good grief,” Giorno commented. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Ugh,” complained Trish. She looked ready to vomit.

“We should get out of here as quick as possible,” Fugo said. “Trish isn’t looking so good. Are we done?”

Giorno examined the room. There were tables and alchemy equipment that wasn’t there when he was here the first time. He walked towards the bookshelf, searching for who the necromancer could be.

“Giorno, what’re you doing?” asked Fugo.

“Trying to figure out who the necromancer is. I don’t want them to attack more people.”

“Let me help you.”

The blonds searched for any information while Trish went into another hallway. The zombies from before must’ve activated the traps, or the necromancer was too lazy to reset the mace traps. Either way, she continued forth, ending up in a big room. There were dead bodies in a pile and more bodies resting on top of a few tables, all stripped of clothing and some missing organs. Trish burnt their bodies so nobody could disturb their rest.

Wanting to explore, she noticed there was another room downstairs. She went down and saw a body lying there. She also noticed the floor wasn’t paved with stone but with dirt. As for the body, she noticed the man, likely a Nord, wore blue robes and was slightly rotting. Suddenly, the body started to move.

“Uhh,” he moaned.

Giorno and Fugo were behind Trish.

“Trish, where did you go? We were—Kalthar!” Giorno began casting a spell, but Kalthar was quick and threw a rock at the two with telekinesis, knocking them unconscious. It broke on impact.

“Giorno!” Trish yelled

“Giorno…” Kalthar said. He then looked at Trish. “Die.”

Kalthar cast a spell on himself, but she wasn’t sure what it did. She used her staff on him, but his spell absorbed it. The hideous Nord cackled. Trish sighed and conjured some gauntlets, boots, and a dagger, still holding her staff in her other hand. She charged toward him and began hacking and slashing, slicing his robes a part. Kalthar grabbed her arm, specifically her gauntlets, and burnt her with a smell, causing her to emit an ear-piercing scream. She tried to pull away, but he had a firm grip despite being undead. There was a smirk on his face as he continued burning her. She tried using her staff on him, but the spell absorption was still in effect. She dropped her bound dagger, conjured a helmet, and then headbutted him. He let go, and she resummoned her blade and plunged it into his neck. Kalthar no longer moved, and Trish fell to the ground, panting.

Giorno and Fugo woke up moments later.

“What happened?” Giorno asked.

“He’s dead. All the zombies are gone. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

Trish collapsed.

“I’ll carry her!” Fugo said. “She’s easy to carry.”

-

“Oh, poor dear,” Dagail commented, looking at Fugo with Trish on his back. “Well, when she wakes up, make sure you tell her she has earned a recommendation.”

“Thank you, we’ll tell her once she wakes up,” Giorno said.

The three left the guildhall.

“So,” Giorno said, “where are we sleeping for tonight? It’s getting late. I assume we’re sleeping at the Three Sisters’ Inn.”

“Yup! I rarely visit this place. Let me try to find it on my map.”

“Can you see? It’s dark out. Here. Let me try to lighten the place up.” Giorno cast starlight.

“I could’ve done that myself, but thanks.”

And then a voice spoke. “Fugo, is that you?”

He recognized that voice and looked away from the map. Prosciutto was there, standing a few feet away from them. He wasn’t wearing his shrouded armor but his burgundy linen shirt and pants. The older blond got closer to them.

“Is this someone you know?” asked Giorno.

“Unfortunately.” Fugo had a sour look on his face.

Prosciutto got closer to them. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The Imperial glared at him. He never liked him due to his harshness.

“So much has passed since you’ve been avoiding us.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“So have I. Shouldn’t you be up north?”

“I didn’t know I was on a time limit, but whatever. Hold your horses.”

“I would say it was a pleasure, but it wasn’t. Goodbye.”

Prosciutto walked away, disappearing into the night.

“What was that about?” inquired Giorno.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Let’s just head into the inn. I’m tired.”

Another JoJo Pose

 

More V Screenshots

 

Lonely Day - Chapter 5: Bravil

Giorno woke up around 7 AM, ate, and got dressed. A few minutes later, Fugo knocked at his door.

“Good morning,” the golden blond said, entering his room.

Giorno closed the door. “Good morning. Fugo, about yesterday.”

“Yeah?” He took off his green nightwear and put on his pants and gambeson. “Sorry about Trish and I questioning you over that one thing with the count.”

“That wasn’t what I was referring to. But if you’re curious about that, a friend of mine was trying to figure out the identity of someone. Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it all out once I finish helping Trish.”

“Oh, but what were you referring to?”

“You said I was beautiful. We also came close to kissing twice.”

Fugo blushed, looking away from him. “Yeah, what about that?”

“You seemed like you wanted to kiss me.”

Fugo was about to put on his cuirass when he noticed Giorno slowly getting closer to him. The Breton was two inches shorter than him. He looked into his turquoise eyes. It reminded him of that rainy day, and Fugo remembered how close their lips were. He placed the cuirass on the floor and quickly embraced the Breton, kissing his lips. Surprisingly, they were as soft as Trish’s. Oh no, Trish. He slightly pushed him away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Fugo said.

“No, it’s fine,” Giorno said. “Well, maybe not, but I didn’t mind it. Sorry.”

It was awkwardly quiet. Fugo donned his armor and left.

-

It was a long trip, but they almost arrived in Bravil in two days. Almost because Fugo decided they should rest at Inn of Ill Omen. The available rooms were in the basement of the inn.

“What?” Trish said, arguing with Fugo. “We’re this close.”

“I just remembered there’s a guy I don’t like living there.”

“Can you avoid this guy?”

“No, there’s no avoiding this guy. He’ll chase you down, maybe.”

“Well, if he’s going to chase you down, then maybe we should continue to Bravil and confront him.”

“What if he doesn’t know I’m here? I think it’s better if I just stay here and you guys do whatever you must do in Bravil.”

Trish sighed and went to sleep. Fugo tried to sleep, but his body refused. He was anxious.

He doesn’t know I’m here, does he? he thought. It lingered in his mind for a while until he slept.

-

Trish awoke the following day. Fugo, who was still asleep, cuddled her. He held her tightly, too tightly. She tried to pry herself out of his arms, but he was too strong.

“Fugo, I love you too, but let me go!”

Eventually, he did. He tossed and turned in the sheets, mumbling someone’s name.

Although worried, there was nothing Trish could do. Right now, she wanted to change into her clothes. Usually, she was too shy to change in front of him, but she couldn’t wake him up.

Maybe he couldn’t sleep well last night. I probably shouldn’t wake him up, she thought.

She quickly changed, wearing a blue velvet dress. Next, she applied her makeup and left. When she left the room, Giorno was standing outside.

“Good morning, Trish,” he said. “Wait, Fugo is still inside? Is something wrong?”

“He probably didn’t sleep well. Anyways, did you eat?”

“No, I wasn’t feeling hungry.”

“The smell of the inn made me lose my appetite. It smells like vomit and old beer. Also, why does it smell like a dead body was in my room?”

“I was going to agree with you about the vomit, but I think you’re exaggerating the smell of your room. My room was fine.”

“Whatever. Let’s just leave. This place stinks.”

They left the inn and started walking towards Bravil, reaching it within a few minutes. A black horse with red eyes greeted them, scaring Trish. She hid behind Giorno.

“Creepy,” she commented.

As soon as they were about to enter, Trish plugged her nose, causing Giorno to giggle.

“You’ll get used to the stench,” he said before they entered.

They entered the city. All the buildings were wooden, save for the castle and chapel, and the houses stacked on each other. It wasn’t aesthetically pleasing for Trish. As for Bravil’s people, there were a lot of shady-looking folks walking around.

“I know some good people,” Giorno whispered to her, “but there are some questionable folks. Just avoid talking to anyone. Though, I’d trust S’Krivva and Luciana Galena. They’re friends.”

They walked near the Lucky Old Lady statue. A hooded man wearing a black shirt and red pants prayed in front of it.

“Is he praying?” she whispered to Giorno. “Who’s that guy.”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “But there used to be a Wood Elf in green praying in that spot. There was a huge fight here some weeks ago, and the elf who prayed there got murdered. Now that guy took his place.”

“That guy scares me. Let’s go.”

They quickly walked to the guildhall. On the outside, the walls were wooden. But once they entered, there were some stone walls. The aroma of the room was more pleasant than the one outside. Trish could smell the herbs from the alchemy room.

“Who do I need to speak to?” Trish asked Giorno.

“We’ll need to talk to Kud-Ei, an Argonian,” he answered. “And she’s right over there. Look to your left.”

An Argonian in a green velvet dress sat on a bench, reading a book. They walked toward her, and she put her book in her bag.

“Greeting, Giorno,” Kud-Ei said. “It is nice to see you. It has been a while. Who’s this you brought?”

“This woman is Trish Una,” he answered. “She wants to join the guild.”

Kud-Ei crossed her arms, thinking for a second. “There is something that she can do. Some days ago, a thief managed to break into one of the cases, taking a spell book on novice illusion spells. The guards managed to arrest the thieves but never found the book. Please finish what the guards could not do and bring it to me. It would be helpful to know the clairvoyance spell, but the way to learn it is in the book.”

“Don’t worry. I know it,” Trish assured her.

“Excellent! Although you don’t need directions since you have the spell, I will tell you where the guards found the thieves. You’re to go to Mingo Cave, near the Inn of Ill Omen, to the east.”

“Really?” said Trish. “Just like that? You’re just going to tell us to fetch something? Nobody is going to try and stop us?”

“Unless one of the thieves managed to break out, then maybe. I don’t know. You’ll probably have to deal with the rats and navigate the dark.”

“Don’t worry,” Giorno said. “I’ll light the way for you.”

They left the guildhall, but instead of heading to the cave immediately, Trish went to the statue. The man who was praying there was gone.

“Hey, Giorno, what does the Lucky Old Lady do?” she asked.

“Not sure,” he answered. “I think the people pray here to receive luck.”

Trish began praying at the statue.

“What are you praying for?” he asked.

She was still praying. When she finished, she said, “I was praying that I’ll eventually find my father and that your father gets cured of vampirism as quickly as possible.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I barely know my father. Besides, it’s his choice to become a vampire.”

“I suppose so. We should hurry. Last night, Fugo seemed like he wanted to leave as soon as possible.”

“Did he say why?” Giorno asked as they walked towards the city gates.

“He’s trying to avoid somebody here. I wonder if he’s awake.”

-

It was 12:42 PM. The chill in the room had awoken Fugo. He stretched and sat up, looking around the room for Trish. Seeing she must’ve left, he got off the bed and dressed, wearing only his gambeson. His stomach rumbled, and he decided to head upstairs to eat. As soon as he opened the door, a familiar face stood in front of him. It was neither Trish nor Giorno.

“Lucien,” Fugo said. He gulped. “What are you doing here?”

Lucien stepped one foot into his room, causing Fugo to step back. “I could say the same thing for you. Sorbet told me you’ve been all across Cyrodiil.”

“Yes, I’ve been busy. So what?”

“There’s a contract for you. You’re to kill a man named Will Zeppeli. I believe you already know him and where to find him. Good luck.”

Lucien giggled, turned invisible, and left.

Fugo fell to the floor. He sighed, got up, and began searching through his bags for the bottle of wine Seridur had given him. Once he found it, he began drinking out of it. He saved it for Trish when she finished her recommendations, but he felt miserable having to kill again. He drank it, and when he emptied the bottle, Fugo violently threw it across the room.

Having nothing to do, Fugo put on his cuirass and greaves, took his sword, and left, heading somewhere in the forest.

-

It was 12:38 PM. Trish and Giorno arrived near the Inn of Ill Omen, spotting the red-eyed black horse from earlier.

“What a strange horse,” Trish commented.

“Agreed,” Giorno said. “Do you think we should take Fugo with us?”

“No, he didn’t sleep well. We should give him some rest.” She cast the clairvoyance spell, leading her to the book. “Come on. This way!”

They walked across the forest and found the cave the thieves were hiding in. Trish looked around the entrance. It didn’t seem huge. Looking at the entry, it led downwards. Before entering, she sniffed the air.

“Smells like a wet dog down there.” Trish covered her nose.

“Wolves. I’ll light up the way. Keep your guard up. The wolves might attack you due to your foreign scent. That, and your heels might echo.”

Giorno illuminated the area around him, and Trish stood close, casting the clairvoyance spell. They entered the cave.

In the first room, it was pitched black except for the area around Giorno. As Trish walked, her heels clicked and echoed. Her pace became irregular as she tried to make them less noticeable.

“That’s not going to work,” Giorno said.

She removed her heels, but the stone floor was cold.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m afraid your pleasant aroma might grab their attention.”

“My aroma is pleasant?” She blushed.

“Yeah, your scent is alluring.”

They heard the patter of feet.

“Get ready,” Giorno warned.

He cast a detect life spell. There were two purple auras. One of them began charging.

“Trish, aim in front of you.”

She cast a fire spell. The spell hit the wolf mid-jump. Its fur burned for a while, but the impact probably killed it first, saving it from suffering. As for the other wolf, Giorno saw that one ran away.

For now, the two continued, running to a dried puddle of blood on the ground. There were bloody footprints all around, lots of feet. If they had to guess, one of the thieves fought the guards and got seriously injured.

They continued walking, stumbling across an activated trap. The spikey iron balls were hanging in front of them. There was a little bit of blood on them, but not much.

“I wonder if the guards activated all the traps,” commented Giorno. “Keep your guard up.”

Something growled, alerting them. Giorno cast his detect life spell, and a bunch of wolves surrounded them.

“Check your left,” he said, shooting a lightning bolt at one of them.

Trish turned left, but it was hard to see anything since the wolves refused to get closer to the light. She shot a shock spell into the void. The shock spell lit up the room for a few seconds, letting her see the wolves. She shot at one of them and then another. She was about to cast another, but one of them jumped at her, clinging on. The wolf’s weight made her fall back, making her bump into Giorno, disrupting the spell he was casting. She lay on the floor while Giorno managed to get back up. Trish looked at the wolf’s face, and it didn’t look happy. Panicking, she conjured some gauntlets and blocked her face with her arms. The teeth sank his teeth into the bound armor, shaking its head rapidly to get it off her. Trish screamed.

“Trish!” Giorno zapped the surrounding wolves, killing them. Now focused on the wolf attacking Trish, he shot an ice spike at it. She screamed once more, watching the wolf get sent flying.

“It’s fine, Trish. You’re going to be okay,” Giorno said, helping her get up.

The illumination spell wore off, causing the cave to be dark again. Giorno felt something squeeze him tightly. He cast the illumination spell and saw Trish hugging him.

“Next time, warn me when the spell wears off,” whined Trish.

He looked at her face. She pouted.

He giggled. “You’re cute,” he said, patting Trish’s head.

She blushed. “Ah, stop!” She stopped hugging and backed away from him. “Fugo would get jealous if he heard that.”

“Would he?” he said aloud.

“Would he what?”

“Nothing, sorry. We should move on. Where are we heading?”

Trish cast the clairvoyance spell. “Straight ahead.”

As they approached their destination, the walls narrowed. It was a tunnel, and traps were lying around. A dead giant rat activated one of the traps, a bear trap. Its corpse was rotting, and flies surrounded it.

Trish looked like she was about to vomit. “Why?”

“Don’t look at that. Let’s just continue.”

There was a wired trap ahead. It was one of those mace traps, but they stepped over the wire.

“These traps are pretty simple,” Trish commented. “Do you think they might surprise us?”

“Probably.”

Avoiding the traps, they entered a room with a chest. The clairvoyance spell led to it. Trish tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s locked,” she said.

“Let me see.” Giorno knelt, examining the lock. “I can open this. It’s simple.”

He opened the chest. The book was in there. He took it out but realized the pressure plate inside the treasure chest.

“We need to get out of here!”

A yellow gas filled the room, making them cough.

“Do we head back where we came?” Trish asked. “There are too many traps to avoid.”

“Find an alternative route.”

“Head to the left. It’s where the spell is directing me.”

They quickly followed the spell’s direction, still looking out for traps. Gas was still filling in the caves.

“Why would they go through so much trouble over a book?” Trish complained.

“It’s Bravil. Things get stolen. It doesn’t matter the reason.”

They followed the magical trail, but a door managed to stop them. Trish tried to open the door, yet it wouldn’t budge. She even tried opening it with force. Nothing happened.

“Giorno, I need your help again.”

He knelt at the door, picking the lock. Unfortunately, that lockpick broke.

“This may take a while,” he explained. “This one is difficult to open.”

“Can’t we just burn the door?”

“We don’t know what this gas is. Casting a fire spell might be dangerous.”

“Quick! We don’t have all day!” she panicked.

“Trish, you need to stay calm in a situation like this. Panicking will get you nowhere.”

They heard a roar. It sounded like a bear. As it stepped into Giorno’s conjured light, it turned out to be a small black bear. It looked at Trish and began charging. In response, she summoned her dagger and dodged the charge. The bear bonked the stone wall. While it tried to recover, she began hacking and slashing its rear. It let out a painful roar. Once it recovered, it ran towards her again. This time, she conjured a cuirass and some gauntlets. Once the bear got closer, it began swiping its claws. She jumped back a bit, avoiding the attacks. Afterward, Trish rapidly stabbed the bear multiple times. When she was about to stab it again, the bear bite into her arms, teeth sinking into her armor. The pain made her shed a tear.

“Giorno!”

“Damn it!”

Giorno ran to her, conjured a sword, and slew the bear.

“The door! Did you unlock the door?” she said, coughing a storm.

“Yes, let’s get out!”

They rushed out of the cave, sweating and panting, and lay on the grass, admiring the cloudless sky. Trish looked at Giorno and moved closer to him.

“Wow,” Trish said. “You know how to open locked doors.”

“There were two ways for me to open that door: a spell or use a lockpick. That door was complex to open.”

“Why didn’t you use a spell?”

“Couldn’t. I can only open average locks.”

“Oh,” Trish commented. She got closer to him, wrapping one of her arms around his chest.

“Um, Trish? There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Fugo and I kissed, but I only told him once.”

“I don’t mind. You should let him kiss you.”

“What? Why?”

She rolled on top of him. “Because I love you too.” She kissed his lips.

Giorno wasn’t sure what to do but let it happen. He closed his eyes and made out with her, letting his hands roam her back. It was getting hotter. Giorno rolled his body, making himself on top. He pulled back to see her blushing red face, watching her catch her breath, chest moving up and down. They resumed kissing. Giorno stopped kissing her lips and started kissing her neck.

“Giorno,” Trish said, making him stop. He looked at her. “When you kissed Fugo, was it like this?”

“No, it was just a peck on the lips. Why have you?”

Her face got even redder. “Maybe.”

He kissed her cheeks. “You’re adorable.”

“Ah, stop!” She giggled. “But back to what I was talking about, you should kiss him passionately. You two are alike.”

“How so?” He got off of her and sat on the ground. She did the same.

“You’re both smart, serious, kind of do shady things—”

“Shady things?” Giorno looked offended.

“Fugo can open locked things. That’s shady. Most people don’t do that.”

“You stole a horse. Most people don’t steal horses.”

“Ah, this again?”

“I’m curious. Have you ever stolen anything else?”

“No, why?”

“Just curious.”

“We should head back to Kud-Ei.”

“We should check on Fugo too. He’s probably wondering where we are.”

-

It was getting dark, and Fugo finally entered Bravil. Animal blood covered his steel armor. The guards approached him, but he told them he went hunting. He had the pelts to prove it. Next, he walked to a nearby store and sold the animal pelts. After that, he headed to the guild hall. Before he could enter, Giorno and Trish just got out.

“Hey! We were wondering where you were,” the Breton said.

“We checked the Inn of Ill Omen, but you weren’t there,” she said. “But before we head back, I need to speak to you. Both of us do, in private. Let’s go behind the guildhall.”

Fugo was puzzled, but he went behind the building with them. The three were alone. Nobody could see them.

“Fugo, I know you and Giorno kissed.”

His heart beat faster. “It was just one moment.”

“I don’t mind,” she explained. “Giorno and I were making out. Now I want to see you make out.”

“Why?” Fugo asked.

“Giorno told me he only kissed you briefly.”

“Well, I did hold him tightly—”

Giorno pinned him to the wall, staring piercingly into his purple eyes. He leaned into him and kissed him deeply. Fugo’s fingers combed through his soft blond locks while his other arm wrapped around his waist. Then both of Fugo’s arms traveled to his shoulders, gripping him, suddenly switching their positions. Giorno’s eyes quickly opened, and he gasped. Fugo kissed him, shutting his lips. As for Trish, she blushed and watched them go at it. Wanting some action, she got closer to them. They stopped and looked at her. She had her arms around the two of them, kissing Giorno first and then Fugo.

After a few minutes, they stopped and caught their breaths.

“So”—Trish was still catching her breath—“we should head back to the inn.”

“Agreed,” Fugo said.