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.”