Shamed for Shamelessness

"A duel?" 

It was pretty easy to spot the man’s strange body language, and from it decide to choose his words and actions carefully.

"But, how else am I to feel the rush of adrenaline, as fear takes hold of my being, the instinct for survival? Only by betting my life against my opponents can I break the boundary of the True Man’s World, only momentarily."

"Whoa, hold on. Betting your life? As in fighting to the death? That's crazy! Fighting until one of us admit defeat is one thing, I might have even agreed to it, but a fight where one of us dies? Who in their right mind would accept that kind of challenge from a stranger? How often do you try things like this?"

The same kid from before? Fugo couldn’t help but wonder whether the kid was sober or not again this time.

"There’s a saying about it, I think. People with a warm handshake aren’t trustworthy," it was an easy, matter-of-fact statement spoken without care, "It’s a common superstition—"

Remember who you’re talking to. The epiphany hit like a brick. Was backpedaling a sport? Because it looked like try-outs started now.

"But, if— if you’re asking what I think, then… warm hands are nice. I’d say they’re a good thing. Way better than cold hands.”

"Don't worry, about that saying, I'm not really offended by it. I mean, untrustworthy is fine, after all I am in the mafia." The boy couldn't help but look a bit prideful when he spoke of his position as a criminal. In fact, he wouldn't be able to hide the satisfaction he got from being a member of Passione if he tried.

After a moment the joy on his face wavered, if only slightly. Fugo was, of course, also happy that Trish didn't mind his hands being warm, but her reason troubled him. 

"A duel?" 

It was pretty easy to spot the man’s strange body language, and from it decide to choose his words and actions carefully.

The same kid from before? Fugo couldn’t help but wonder whether the kid was sober or not again this time.

"Hm?"

Rohan felt Fugo’s gaze on his doodle, well before he turned around to meet eye to eye with the mafioso. He tilted his head in question, awaiting further comments from Fugo, though his widening eyes were sufficient in that respect. It wasn’t at all uncommon for people to lose themselves in his work, full manuscripts, single page spreads, or sketches such as this. Of course he was great; Rohan prided himself in his skill. No, his talent as a mangaka made up his entire essence. Pink Dark Boy is popular in Italy, isn’t it? Would Pannacotta Fugo even have the patience to read through it all? Judging by just his reaction to a sketch, (of himself, no less) maybe it’s somewhat plausible. 

"Nothing, I was just admiring what you drew. The arts really great, but the subject not so much.." The last part probably sounded a bit rude, though it wasn't the blond's intention

"A duel?" 

It was pretty easy to spot the man’s strange body language, and from it decide to choose his words and actions carefully.

"Don't worry about it." Reveled in battle? Fugo could admit to himself that a good fist fight could be enjoyable,But this man was suspiciously weird, and he had a gut feeling that things wouldn't end well.

The same kid from before? Fugo couldn’t help but wonder whether the kid was sober or not again this time.

"A half-hour wait isn’t too bad, " he replied, pulling out his sketchbook to pass the time. Everything seems to be going very smoothly. This is good. Had it not been the direct result of his own stand shenanigans, Rohan would be extremely suspicious of Fugo’s sudden calmness. 

In any case, infiltrating the ranks of Passione shouldn’t be so hard this way. And even if he is found out eventually, the single ulterior motive of gathering story material certainly wouldn’t warrant his execution, would it?

No point of considering that until the time comes. If the time comes, that is.

For awhile, the boy waited, not wanting to intrude on this new recruit's privacy. So he stood back and kept his eyes away from the sketchbook that Rohan held. But he could only bear a minute or two of the ambient, rapid scratch of graphite against paper before his eyes drifted toward the picture that was taking shape.

"You're a pretty great arti-" Was the first thing he thought to say. The man's talent was impossible to miss of course. What he'd been able to create in such a short time was astounding. 

But upon closer examination, Fugo quickly realized what the piece showed.

The joke was a little refreshing, actually, but outside of a retort she had no idea of what to say. The smile thinned. Conversation wasn’t a talent of hers in any sense, but she felt she had something to say. The pause only grew longer until she turned her gaze downwards.

Ah. Well. “But, uh, you may have to rethink that joke. And I may have to rethink my promise.”

"But no, no one's ever told me that before. Good to know I guess." Fugo looked to the side and paused for a moment "..Is having warm hands generally a good thing or a bad thing?" He continued to look away from her pointedly. "Just for future reference, you know?"

Unsurprisingly, this wasn't the first time the blond had been compared to cheese. He didn't find it any more amusing this time.