Pannacotta Fugo x Reader One-shots

[26] yellow.

You think too much.
You think of things better left unthought.
You worry too much.
You are too strict to yourself.
Do you ever rest, Fugo?

"That is what I like about you, Fugo."

Fugo's purple orbs shined upon the sunlight, he blinked twice. There is a gap between his lips about to say something. Yet something holding it down his throat. Just like how butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

"You're a dead genius," She continued casually, "The most logical person I've ever met. You think of things many people won't bother to do. They're scared, Fugo. While you're not."

"Don't you think I think too much because I'm scared?"

He managed to ask the girl in front of him after a moment of silence. His teammate gave him a mysterious smile before she leaned forward. Resting her chin on her intertwined fingers. 

"Yet you can't stop thinking, can you? You have the strength to keep thinking straight no matter how it frustrates yourself. You never rest. You keep moving on forward accordingly. That is just how you live. They may say you think too much or you think of unnecessary things. But! Have you ever think if those things they said are actually right? Who to decide that those things are the best for you?"

"No?"

"Exactly!" The girl shifted to the left while her right hands finger gun pointing at him, "No one can decide it for you. You are you, Pannacotta Fugo. If that's how you are then let it stay like that."

Now, that was something new for Fugo to hear his whole life. She is his new teammates for two whole months already. They're not particularly close as Fugo been somehow making walls between them. Fugo still not fond of her.

Tonight, the two of them left alone on the base and coincidentally wanted to hang around on the balcony on this warm evening at the same time. Fugo didn't mind. It was the same with her. 

It was started from of small conversation of mission-related stuff. Surprisingly she is more fun to talk than Fugo ever realizes. The way she carries herself made Fugo want to talk more. He wanted to know what is going on inside her mind. Until he purposely told her about how tired he is from being called an overthinker.

Her answers have so far been ridiculous for him to accept.

"What a brave thing to say," Fugo tapping his fingers on the table, left hand down on his lap, "How can you be sure that staying like this is the best for me?"

"Because you never bothered to change in the first place," She smirked, "So the best way would just stay still in your comfort zone. Nothing's wrong with it."

"Fair enough," He acknowledged.

"Sometimes when we're not lost at all, the said of people is what makes us lost our way."

"How about when we keep getting lost despite the advice we got from others?"

"There are lots of others, Fugo. Finding the right one is one of the purposes of life, no?"

"Aren't you the optimistic one?" 

She shrugged lightly, "This is just how I am. I wouldn't call it being optimist though."

"Then?"

"A dreamer."

"Care to elaborate?" Fugo raised one brow.

"Optimist is when you believe and keep seeking the happy truth," explained her with eyes closed, "While I only dream what is within my range. I don't always expect a happy ending. Especially in the mafia."

Fugo nodded in understanding, "How about you?"

"Yes?" She blinked.

"How about you, [y/n]?" He repeated, "How are you doing with yourself? You are famous for your astute attitude. A liar. How are you doing handling that?"

"Do you think I'm a liar?" Her face went flat, digging an answer from Fugo.

"No. Bucciarati trust you, I trust you."

"Then nothing to worry about!" She cupped her own face on the table, smiling from ear to ear, "What important to me is you, Bucciarati, Abbacchio, Mista, and Narancia. My skill only a mere weapon for me to survive. I survive so far because I stay to be myself. Fugo too, surviving this far because your thoughts been helping you."

"Let me revise my impressions of you," Fugo sighed yet smiling, "You're certainly the weird one."

"In a good way?"

"In a good way."

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Ask away," She hummed, sipping her now cold coffee.

"Why would you like my personality to overthinking things?"

She raised her index finger to sign him to wait as she gulped down all her coffee. After two small coughs, she cleared her throat.

"Didn't expect you to ask that one," She said sheepishly, a little red, "Well, um, I just like it? You hold onto your own ideology while still wary of how your surrounding may react."

"It's not like I can ignore others."

"True, I believe no one has the ability to fully ignore other people. Still Fugo, you collect them as information. Needed or not."

"So I can just stay like this?"

"Yes! In my opinion," retorted her,  "We can just stay like this, Fugo."

"I'll take your advice," Fugo decided, "For now."

"Glad I can be some sort of help," She hummed away, satisfied.

Fugo wondered if it's really okay for him to be his overthinking self. The ex-police, Abbacchio, been telling him to not think too much as it only destroys them. But he wants to believe her that it's okay to be like that. He is still okay and alive.

"[y/n],"

"Yes?"

"What if one day I'm lost because of my way of thinking?" Another question fired. Fugo swears that this is the last question of the day. Just one more. He needed more.

"Oh," Her smile was small and innocent as her whole figure illuminated by the yellow evening light, "That would be okay too since I would be with you."

Her answer was more than enough for Fugo to be sure.

Today's sunlight was especially stunning.