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.”
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