different. weird. concerning. you're concerning me, he says. but giorno can read him so easily, has fugo forgotten that? he knows what he means to say; you're scaring me. the goodwill dissipates with each heartbreaking word attached. his smile falters entirely. suddenly his mind is plastered with long forgotten memories that he so eagerly stored away like boxes in the attic, purposely left to collect dust. suddenly he is a small boy of six again, riddled in bruises and unable to cry, labelled as strange & creepy. there is a choir of cruel children and then there is the voice of the man who should have been his stepfather, but knew nothing of paternal love whatsoever. suddenly he is no longer the golden don of passione, he is the outcast and he is beneath the dirt.
he is not. he never will be, never again. he will not let himself fall, he will not topple. he will dig his heels further in the ground he has fought so hard to keep. he is not nothing.
( that is all you are to him. requiem whispers conspiratorially, their ever present frown deepening. since the beginning. he mirrors abbacchio's distrust. it has never changed. )
โย i don't trust you? โ he echoes, his head lifting and his hand dropped to rest atop the desk. his posture straightens. there is concern laced in his tone, but there is also a hinted presence of offense. how dare you. a voice intones that sounds more like requiem's than his own. โย i trust you with my life. i trust in your words, your wit, your counsel. even if i disagree with it at times, i appreciate it. there is no other i would ask for in your place. โ
( he desires not to be king. requiem had once deemed judgment when giorno invited him back, welcoming him with open arms. merely to be the piece which outlasts all others on the chess board. )
this is a serious matter. giorno rises from his seat, slow & careful, not once taking his eyes off the other. there has never been reason to worry about unexpected stand presence, not until now it seems. requiem's presence hovers like a shadow, and it is giorno who still fights with insistence that these are unneeded measures. fugo would never. . . but would he? he crosses around his desk but wisely keeps distance, waiting for fugo to approach him first.
โย fugo, listen to me. โ he keeps his voice steady & calm, hoping to diffuse the slow growing escalation. both hands are raised upwards to indicate he means no harm. โ everything you know is the most anyone knows, moreso than mista & trish. you are my advisor, i turn to you first before i make any decisions. i am keeping nothing from you.ย โ
( evidently, that must be altered. requiem advises. whether open or secretive, he stands against us. )
โย we can talk. okay? whatever it is you think i haven't told you enough about, we can discuss it. right here, right now. โ
