The Golden Miners - Chapter 5: Giorno Meets Bruno and Abbacchio

Giorno was the first to wake up, stretching before waking Fugo.

“It’s time for school,” he joked.

“W-what? No!” Fugo slowly got up, rapidly blinking at Giorno. “Isn’t it July?”

He chuckled. “It was a joke.”

“You hardly crack a joke. For a second, I thought summer was over.”

Giorno kissed his lips. “Come on. Let’s head downstairs. I think I smell eggs.”

Fugo got out of bed and stretched, following his boyfriend to the dining room, where the servants served them eggs, sausage, and croissants. Fugo’s parents did the same as usual, making Giorno wonder if they knew they existed. He was going to ask them a question but received a notification before he could. He scrolled through his phone.

“Giorno,” Fugo whispered, “stop! My parents hate phones at the dining table.”

“I don’t think they’re aware of us. Ask them a question.”

“Hey, Dad.”

His dad continued reading the newspaper.

“Now, ask your mother something,” Giorno whispered.

“Mother—” She quickly faced him, emotionless, creeping Fugo out. “Could I go to”—he paused to think of a place to go to—“the Museo Cappella Sansevero?”

“Of course,” she replied.

“Why are they like this suddenly?” Fugo questioned Giorno. “I need to ask your dad a question.”

Fugo’s dad overheard their conversation and put the newspaper down. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Y-you’re right.” Fugo’s voice was shaky. “Because I want to take Giorno on a date somewhere, and that’s going to the Cappella Sansevero.”

“If you say so.” His dad went back to reading.

Fugo quickly ate his breakfast and took Giorno’s hand, taking him to his room.

“I wasn’t finished eating, but”—Giorno noticed how concerned Fugo was—“that doesn’t matter. I won’t lie. Their behavior is far from what you described, but I know you wouldn’t lie. I also remember that argument with your parents I overheard while in the Xbox party. Let’s visit my father before heading to the Cappella Sansevero.”

They changed their clothes and brushed their teeth before taking a cab to the hotel. Only Dio, sitting in a chair in the dark, was there when they entered his room.

“Where’s Mother?” Giorno asked as he sat down on the bed. Fugo sat down next to him.

“She and I had an argument,” he said. “Don’t worry. She’s still alive.”

Fugo’s eyes widened, and he looked concerned. “Excuse me, what?”

Dio cackled. “Just a joke to mess with Giorno. Anyways, why are you two here? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your vacation together?”

“We are,” Fugo answered. “However, my parents have been acting strange lately since you visited them.”

“We just had a long chat. I’m very persuasive.”

“How did you make them less strict?”

Dio paused for a few minutes, thinking of how to respond. “I wasn’t always persuasive. I suppose you get better at it when you age.”

Fugo didn’t believe that but did not say that out loud. Something about Dio made him curious but terrified to learn more about him.

“Is that all you want to ask him?” Giorno asked. “I thought you were going to question him some more.”

Fugo crossed his legs and took a deep breath. “Are you British?”

Dio laughed. “Did my accent give that away? I thought I had that under control.”

“One of my friends noticed the accent, but I searched where the university you want to was.”

He no longer smiled. “By one of your friends, I assume you mean that good-looking man with the hat? And I told you what university I went to?”

“Yes, we had an interesting conversation, but something caught my interest that day. Both Giorno and I were curious about your brother.”

Dio looked away, and Fugo could’ve sworn he heard him suck his teeth. “Yeah, that conversation is coming back to me. Sorry, I’ve been enjoying my time here too much and didn’t instantly remember.”

“I’m sorry for bringing up painful memories, but what happened to him?” Fugo continued to question.

The blond giant was silent for a few seconds. “My brother died while searching for artifacts in Egypt. You see, he’s an archeologist. This happened a long time ago.”

“You said this happened a long time ago,” Giorno entered the conversation. “Was this when you were absent?”

“Yes.”

“You were gone a long time then.”

“I had to deal with the rest of the family.”

“The rest of the family?”

“Yes, they were troublesome to deal with. That’s why I never mention them, Giorno. They are people to avoid. Anyways, Fugo, I hope I have satiated your curiosity.”

Giorno got up and took Fugo’s hand. “Alright, I think that’s enough questioning. I want to head to the Cappella Sansevero.”

“Wait, Giorno,” Dio said. “I see you have new clothes. Good. I’ve been thinking about moving here. That’s why your mother isn’t here. Perhaps she would’ve loved moving if you were younger, but she has everything back home. And it is troublesome indeed to get everything back home, but I’ll find a way. I always do.”

“Wait, could you let go?” Fugo asked, and Giorno let go. “You are aware that the process to become an Italian citizen may take years, right?”

“Don’t worry. If you remembered anything I said that day, you would’ve remembered that I said this isn’t my first time here. You two have fun on your date!”

-

The blond couple arrived at the Museo Cappella Sansevero, spotting another couple at the entrance. One had chin-length black hair and was dressed in white, and the other had long white hair and was dressed in black. Both of them held each other’s hands.

“Bucciarati, Abbacchio!” Fugo called out and waved.

The two turned around, smiled, and waved back. The white-haired one approached Fugo and Giorno but then looked at Giorno with concern. “Wait, this can’t be him.”

“Oh, Abbacchio,” Fugo said, “I forgot to tell you Giorno’s hair turned blond while on the flight here.”

Abbacchio snickered. “You expect me to believe that? Are you even sure this guy is Asian? He doesn’t look like it.”

“I am Asian. I’m also white,” Giorno said. “And my hair did turn blond.”

“Wow, your Italian is good. Fugo, now I’m even more concerned.”

“Bucciarati,” Fugo called for help.

“Leone, we’re here on a date, are we not?” Bucciarati held onto his partner’s arm. “You’re not a work. Please, let’s head in.”

“Fine, but I’m watching you, Giorno.”

“Forgive him,” Fugo whispered. “He’s overprotective. The guy next to him is Bruno. You know, the guy Mista and I talked about when we went to Scolippi.”

The four of them entered the chapel, and the insides were beautiful. Rococo artwork decorated the place. They started examining the art from the left side, admiring the displays before moving on to the next one.

“Hey, Abbacchio, I know we don’t hang out much, but I’m surprised to see you here,” Fugo said.

“I find Baroque artwork beautiful,” he replied.

“You should listen to the songs he likes,” Bucciarati added. “I’m not surprised he picked the place to go on his day off.”

“I’m guessing you listen to Claudio Monteverdi?” Giorno questioned, looking at Abbacchio. “When studying Italian culture, I somehow came across his Wikipedia page.”

“You use Wikipedia to study?” Abbacchio questioned.

“Well, no. Anyone can make up anything on Wikipedia. I check the citations.”

“Does that mean you listen to him too?”

“Sorry, it’s not my type of music. I’ve listened to some songs on YouTube, and it sounds beautiful. However, I’m more of a fan of the music today. Specifically, I like Jeff Beck.”

“‘Music of today,’ he says. That guy made music in the late 60s. That’s it. I’m convinced you’re not a teenager.”

“Abbacchio!” Bucciarati raised his voice, causing others to look at them for a slight second. “In that case, I must be dating a vampire.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t mind biting you,” he teased, causing him to giggle.

Fugo stuck his tongue out. “Can we please move on?”

The two couples continued to look at artworks and saw the anatomical models in the basement. They looked at the Veiled Christ for a while before leaving.

“We should pay Scolippi a visit again,” Giorno said.

“Really? What will you commission him to make?” Fugo asked.

“Scolippi?” Abbacchio questioned.

“Oh, he’s a sculptor,” Fugo answered. “Giorno asked him to make our Assassin’s Creed characters. Also—” He wanted to tell him that Scolippi made a sculpture of him but believed Abbaccho would get jealous and do something. “Nevermind. We should head home.”

“Giorno, right?” Abbacchio said. “Fugo has said a lot of positive things about you. You’re strange. I was relieved when you told me your favorite musician was Jeff Beck. If you liked an Italian pop singer, that would’ve been weird. What do you call those people? Weeaboos. You’re a weeaboo but the opposite. Trish listens to those K-pop idols with random letters as their group name.”

“Are you saying Trish is a Koreaboo?” Fugo asked.

“Well, you’re the one who keeps talking about your friends with me. You make it sound like she’s a Koreaboo. Also, I thought you hated her.”

“At first, I hated her, but she was acting up because she was too scared to hang out with the others and me. With Sheila around, she softened up around us.” Then Fugo’s phone vibrated, receiving a message from Trish. “Oh, what do you know? Trish wants us to play Minecraft.”

“You talk about Minecraft a lot,” Bucciarati said. “I’ve been thinking about buying it and trying it out. I’m not much of a gamer, though. Is it difficult?”

“Peaceful is the easiest because no hostile mobs spawn. You can still die in that mode, however. The hardest difficulty is hardcore mode, but it’s a different game mode. When you die, it’s permanent. You cannot change it once you pick it. There are four game modes: creative, survival, adventure, and hardcore. The first two are self-explanatory, and I already told you about hardcore, but avoid adventure mode. You cannot break blocks. There’s no point.”

“Alright, I think I got it.” Bucciarati looked at Giorno. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Fugo wouldn’t stop talking about you nonstop. I don’t know if he told you, but my name is Bruno Bucciarati.” He brought Abbacchio closer to him. “I think you may have heard me say his name, but this man is Leone Abbacchio. He’s a cop.”

He kissed him, making Abbacchio blush. “Come on. Stop! I saw Fugo sticking his tongue out when I said something to you.”

“You said something? Could you remind me? What did you say?” he teased.

“I—we should go!” Abbacchio took Bruno’s hand and walked away.

“That was weird,” Fugo said.

“I think I like them,” Giorno commented.

While they took a cab to Fugo’s house, Fugo couldn’t help but think about Dio. When he asked when something happened, Dio would emphasize long. “I don’t remember if I asked, but how old is your dad?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

Fugo tried to recall everything that happened but was having difficulties focusing. For some reason, he couldn’t get the image of vampire Abbacchio drinking Bruno’s blood, causing Fugo to stick out his tongue in disgust.

“Hmm, something wrong?” Giorno asked.

“Uh, just thinking about vampires. Maybe after we play Minecraft with Trish, you want to try playing Vampire: The Masquerade — Bloodlines? It’s single-player, but I have it on Steam. I want to watch you play.”

“Sure!”