"My sniper is on position," Giorno reported, "I got the clear vision."

"So am I," Fugo announced, the launcher is on his shoulder ready. "Bucciarati, your order."

"Alright." There was silence for a moment. "We'll begin our mission. I'll remind all of you again that our time is only three minutes before the police are coming. In three minutes, we must finish the mission and depart immediately. Fugo, I'm counting-One, two, three... shoot."

At the same time Bucciarati gave his order, Fugo clicked the trigger. The missile launched loudly, blasting away the gate straight through the main door of a mansion in front of you and him. He took a deep breath, ready to reloading the second.

"Mista, Narancia, enter when I release the second missile."

"Roger." Mista and Narancia answered at the same time.

You raised your arms, aiming at whoever may be coming to you and Fugo. You're still somewhat salty but gulped it for now. This mission must not fail no matter what and for now you have to cover for Fugo.

"Bucciarati," Fugo signaled. The leader hummed, waste no time to order him to shoot the second missile. It was right at the time where the enemies are starting to coming out. Poor them, to be blasted away by a missile and having their flesh scattered.

"We're coming in!" Narancia's voice ringing, followed by a loud sound from his riffles.

The real thing began.

Fugo ran to the car to store his launcher while you're covering for him. You're shooting down the enemy straight to their head with ease. Right and left hands are busy just like your mouth cursing them to their grave. That was until Fugo pinched your cheek.

"You're losing your cool," he reminded. In his hand, you notice he has his gun ready. A SIG Sauer P365 that you gave to him last year and he has used it since. "Come on, follow me."

"Yes, yes, I'm coming." You smiled, much better now that you got his attention.

The plan was to have you and Fugo making fuss from the front. While they're weakened, Narancia and Mista will blast them away from behind. Giorno is their backup and checking on the enemy escape route.

"Bucciarati, a black van just leave. They're going to the route we discussed."

"On it." It was Abbacchio who answered. He and Bucciarati will go after the leader. With the help of Giorno also since the designed place is still in his range.

It's really doesn't take long to finish. Even if the enemy were roughly thirty people, and only against seven people, they're much weaker. When you and Fugo got into the mansion, Narancia's riffles and laugh were dominating.

You huffed a little just when the silence filling in. The enemies are all down. Not noticing it, Fugo had his eyes on you the whole time. His gaze down to your waist.

"Mista, Narancia, how was it?"

"We're good!" Narancia's voice echoed, don't even need the transmission. Mista also shouted.

"I got shot! In my thigh, though, nothing much."

"Very well." As long as they don't die, Fugo will judge it as good. "Giorno?"

"I just shot the car," Giorno said, "Bucciarati and Abbacchio are finishing it. I'll be packing up now."

"Mista, Narancia, get in the car in thirty seconds," Fugo gave the last order. He put away his gun and pulling your hand. "Let's go, [y/n]."

"Fugo?" You called for him, noticing his strange reaction. It's rare for him to hold your hands when the situation is not safe yet. And he has this serious expression over his face. Fugo didn't answer just yet.

He seated you in the car and taking off your transmission as well as his. The car was off to somewhere you don't know yet. The direction Fugo choose wasn't the road to the meeting point.

"What is it? I'm the one who's supposed to be sulking right now."

"I'm not sulking," he replied, "we're going home."

"We're not going to meet up with them?" you asked again, knowing the home your boyfriend refers to is your home with him and not the house where the team lives together. "We haven't told them anything."

"It's fine since we're done for today."

"Are you angry?"

"What do you think, hm?"

"You're definitely angry," you pouted, shrinking on your seat. "What is it? I behaved just like you told me to."

"You're not," he glanced at you.

"Why?"

"You're hiding something from me. I told you many times to not do it again!"

"Oh-" you cracked, your hand goes to your waist where you've been shot. Honestly, you can't feel it hurting until Fugo pointed it out. "I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to hide it from you. It's just.. a scratch."

Fugo took a deep breath and gritting his teeth. "I know, you've always this way. I'm worried, you know? What if.. what if I lost you this time?"

"Fugo, no," you tugged his arm, "I'm sorry."

The rest of the ride home was quiet. You know Fugo was holding back his emotions and rage. Just like you who also try, but ended up sobbing anyway.

When the car arrived, Fugo told you to stay on your seat. He carried you from the car to inside the house, to yours and his bedroom. After that, he tends to your wound.

"It's not deep, thankfully." Fugo wrapped the bandage around your waist. He got up, pushed you to bed, then having his arms around you from the side. "If you're hurting, even if it's small, I want you to tell me. I can't have you in the hospital again because you didn't say anything. I'm sorry, I should've treated you better."

"It's my fault too," you smiled, kissing his forehead. "I'm more than lucky to have you in my life. I should've behaved better."

"You should." Fugo buried his face on your neck. "You're driving me insane romantically and literally. You called me a jerk today."

"You refused to have a romantic night with me!"

"I planned to cook for you, then do you all night."

"You what?" you turned to him, cheeks faintly turning red.

"But it looks like I have to cancel the last one," he sneered, kissing you as he gets up. "I'll cook for dinner. You wanted salmon, right?"

"Ye-Yes, but I want the last one too!" He pinned your shoulder, holding you from getting up.

Fugo smirked, "It's your punishment."

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