❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. ❞
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
chapter contains: drugs and past consumption of drugs. OOC.
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
Bruno Bucciarati worries a lot. Be it for his group, the civilians, or the well-being of children that were taking drugs.
He had a lot to worry about— from his kind nature to help others, as well as balancing his mafia life.
Never did he expected to worry about his childhood friend.
While he was rather annoyed by your constant inteference with his group and major crush on him, Bucciarati still considered you to be his friend.
However, you have not been around him for a couple of days— perhaps weeks.
He could not find you in your favourite restaurants or places that you would sit about, nor could he find you waiting outside Libeccio for the eighth time to latch onto his arm.
Not that he minded, but he was so used to your antics that he found it odd that you were not here for weeks on end.
When you never answered his calls and messages, that was when he started to get worried.
Usually, you would pester him with messages. It was not annoying, as the messages only consisted of asking about his well-being and reminders that you love him.
Even when you were not hanging out with him, you still managed to take the time to message him, perhaps even less now that you knew he was in the mafia.
As....loud as you are, you were understanding to his situation.
But now? With not even a 'hello' from you, Bucciarati was internally freaking out.
Did you went missing? Did someone wanting revenge on him knew about you and took you hostage?
As ironic as it sounded, Bucciarati found that he missed you. It felt empty without your companionship, your voice rambling on as you try to get along with his team.
Today, he was free. He had no duties whatsoever, so he was intending to head to your house, hoping to find you safe and sound.
He had already sent a message to you, informing you that he was coming over. With that out of the way, he walked along the streets, searching for your house left and right.
However, no matter which turn he took, your house was not present.
At this point, he was brisk walking, taking sharp corners with desperation to find your house.
He ran through his memories to figure out the location of it, stopping his track as he came to a realisation—
He never knew where your house was, not even during his childhood.
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
"I'm coming over to your house. I'm free for the day."
Shit.
Oh shit.
Perhaps staying inside was not the best idea? You knew you should have informed Bucciarati.
Although, now that you think about, does he know where you lived? You never did invited him to your house during your childhood, nor did he ever saw what your house looked like.
Maybe he did, your mind was blank whenever your false persona showed up, mindlessly watching as if it were through a screen.
While you wait for him to arrive, you had to deal with another problem—
Drugs.
By some miracle, you managed to kept taking drugs a secret from Bucciarati.
You could not remember when, but your poor self got into drugs when you were at your lowest point in your life, stumbling upon dealers that sold it. Unfortunately, even when you travelled back in time, your addiction overtook you.
You had tried so hard to stop the addiction, but it was too much for you.
Sighing, you left the drugs out in the open and everywhere in your house since your house was at a secluded place, and Bucciarati never visited you up until now.
Today was the start point of not doing drugs. Thankfully, your Stand managed to filter out the traces of the drugs inside your body, but that still did not stop you from wanting to take it again like it was your morning fix.
Of course, you had tried to fully stop the drug consumption for the past month, but you ended up going back into it.
You did not want to put the drugs into your Stand, however. Despite the fact that it ate a human being one time, you do not want to risk the drugs fucking up your Stand.
You had already hid your diary somewhere in a place you knew, and you were thinking about what to do with the drugs in front of you. You certainly could not snort it anymore, so the next best thing was to throw it away—
Ding!
You winced at the sound of your phone's notification, the volume and the high pitched sound hurting your head. You set it to vibrations whilst seeing who was it that messaged you.
"I can't seem to find your house, amica. Did you move houses?"
It was Bucciarati, of course. Ever the kind man he is even when he was stuck dealing with your annoying ass for a decade.
He was literally the only one in your contacts that you did not block. The rest of the numbers were your shitty adopted family that you had the misfortune to have even in this life.
You replied back, "I live near Naples Middle-High School. Just wait near the gelato shop there, I'll pick you up."
You did not bother to talk to him in a cheery manner. That was your false persona, not you. You were too tired to keep up with the energy.
You left the drugs be as you opened your door. The walk to the gelato place was not long, taking minutes of passing by the school.
Though, you had the unfortunate luck to bumped into a student. He had short bob hair that resembled a mushroom and emerald eyes. You muttered a 'sorry' to him and continued your way to the gelato shop.
Bucciarati was already there, holding two gelatos as you made your way to him.
"Oh, sorry. Did I make you wait that long?" you asked.
The brunette shook his head, handing you one of the gelatos as you start to lead him to your house, "No, it's fine. I just got here."
The walk back to your house was awkward. You could tell Bucciarati was already suspicious of your behaviour when you did not grab his arm and rambled about your day, merely eating the gelato he bought for you.
As for the latter, he was taking notice of your abnormal. Your overall demeanour looked tired, your smile was forced and you were way too quiet for his liking.
Furthermore, you had been fidgeting with your fingers, cracking your knuckles frequently.
"You can hold my arm if you like," Bucciarati suggested, smiling as he reached out to you.
"No- no, it's fine. I'm fine with it," you turned down his offer.
Already, you were fucking up. You could see the faint disbelief in his eyes when you said that.
God, you suck at staying in character.
Not only that, Bucciarati's confusion was rising as you led to a more secluded area— where there were little to no people walking about.
He had never been to your house before. He remembered that you still lived with your adoptive parents in the past, but you suddenly disappeared at one point before coming back into his life again.
He had never considered that you moved out of your parents' house and into your own, assuming that you were still the same cheery yet overbearing person that was optimistic all the time.
The both of you had reached your house— it was a small cottage-like house, located at the end of the secluded area.
You had not taken good care of the outside, hence there were vines and flowers growing in between the cracks of the walls.
You opened the door, letting Bucciarati in as you—
—Oh shit you forgot to hide the drugs.
What made it worse was that some of the bags were opened and used by you recently, and Bucciarati was staring directly at it, especially the ones that were opened.
You could not just lie to him right in the face, it's fucking Bucciarati of all people. He could taste the lie in your sweat!
Besides, you had spent the entire childhood with him, he knew something was not right with you the moment you were silent.
Should you tell him the truth? Half-truth? Make up a story?
"What....are these?" you heard his voice.
Tension was filling the atmosphere as he continued to stare at the drugs. You stood stiff in your position as Bucciarati turned to you.
His piercing blue eyes looking at you as his voice got deeper.
"What. Are. These," he demanded, pointing at the drugs on the table.
The both of you stared at each other. It was truly no use to lie to Bucciarati. You were already perspiring, one lick from him is enough to know the truth.
"Drugs," you finally spoke. "They're drugs. I...I'm sorry."
You saw the brunette stepped away from you. You could see the rage and disappointment in his eyes when his own childhood friend possessed drugs.
"But-! I was planning to throw them out, actually," you continued before he could speak.
"I-I'm trying to stop taking them. Right now, I'm figuring out how to throw them—"
"YOU TOOK THEM!?" Bucciarati grabbed your shoulders tightly.
His eyes were wide, disbelieved at that fact you were ingesting the very thing he despised. At the same time, he was mad at himself for not being ever noticing the subtle changes.
It was only when you were not cheery then did his confusion, and suspicions rose.
"Why— who, when?!" you winced at the volume of his voice and his outburst.
"I-I don't know, I lost track of time to be honest," you softly said.
"And, um. The drugs, they keep me....happy, I suppose," you continued. "I know it's wrong to take them, but I did it anyways."
You felt his grip softened, eventually letting go of your shoulders as he stared at you. There was a look of realisation, making you confused. You wondered if Bucciarati was okay—
Of course he's not. He hates drugs, and you took drugs.
As for Bucciarati, he was trying to process the words you had just said to him.
Happy.....
You felt happy when you took drugs.
Your cheery personality, your sudden disappearance in the past, your new home and the lack of your parents' presence......
"Amica, tell me the truth," he spoke again. "Before, when we spent time together, when I introduced you to my team, were you under the influence of drugs?"
To his dismay, you nodded.
"But, I can't remember when I first started them. Though I got back into them a couple of months ago. I really tried to stop the addiction, but I don't know how it got this intense," you explained.
It was true, for all you know, your 'role' might have started ingesting them at a young age. You blanked out majority of your life when you got here, only snapping out of it recently once you realised where you were.
Bucciarati on the other hand, was quiet, his eyes shadowed as he looked down at the ground.
In his mind, he thought of the times where you were cheery, which was all the time. For you to revealed that taking drugs made you feel happy—
—Could it be?
"...I'll think of something to take them away," you perked up at the brunette's words.
You watched as he dialed a number from his phone, listening to him speak to the other end with his authorative voice. You tuned out the conversation, a terrible habit of yours.
After a few moments, he ended the call, giving you a gentle smile, voice softened as his attention went back to you.
"Shall we head out to eat? It will be my treat," he offered. "I...wanted to catch up with you, without the...influence impacting you."
"I- I also call up some people that will take care of your problem, so you might have to be away from your house for a while," he explained.
You nodded, completely ignoring the latter part.
Free food for the win.
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
In true Bruno Bucciarati style, he had taken you to Libeccio, his favourite restaurant, and the go-to base of his team. Surprisingly, none of them were present, leaving only you and Bucciarati to dine.
You merely ordered spaghetti and a drink. Although you had eaten in this restaurant many of times when you first got here, this was truly a first where you get to eat something outside of your false persona.
Bucciarati ordered his favourite, squid pasta. Although, he was watching you eat instead. He was focused of how your eyes lit up and sparkled as you ate your food.
It was like he was witnessing genuine happiness instead of the forced optimistic facade caused by drugs. The facade he never suspected.
There was still the heavy feeling of guilt in his chest. He was too caught up about the you who clung to his arms for years that he never expected it to be a result of drug intake.
The problem was literally screaming at his face for years.
He remembered that your skin had an increased of rashes, especially at the arms, and had an overall dry feel to it. You often had bald spots in your scalp, to which you did a great job at covering it before meeting up with him.
However, your appearance had improved drastically, as if you did not take substances in the first place.
"Ah, I have to ask you something," Bucciarati spoke up, making you stop at your meal as you focused your attention on him.
"Not to offend you, but you seemed to recovered rather quickly after you stopped taking substances," he started.
"Oh, um. A jellyfish helped me," you answered.
There was a moment of silence as your friend tried to process what the fuck you were saying.
"A...jellyfish?" he repeated, his eyes were once again shadowed, clearly not believing what you said.
"Yeah, a jellyfish," you nodded. "Came out of nowhere, started eating this one guy who wanted to turn me into a latex slave, healed me, and most of the people can't see them."
Bucciarati's face morphed into horror as you told the story of the Stand user. He had heard of such person that was responsible for the kidnapping of women, turning them into mindless sex slaves in a form of latex sculptures.
To think that his friend was about to become the next victim...
He shuddered at the thought.
Perhaps you were lucky to have a Stand that protected you from that scumbag.
"When did...this jellyfish appeared?" he asked.
"Few days ago," you answered. "It appeared when I saved a couple from two guys who were torturing them."
He hummed in acknowledgement, thinking deeply about what you had said.
"It appears that you have awakened your Stand," he smiled.
You slowly nodded, not knowing what to think of other than wanting to eat your spaghetti.
"Stands are, to put it simply, a manifestation of a fighting spirit, a physical form of spiritual energy," he explained. "Only Stand users can see other Stands, and from what you have told me about the guy, it appeared that he was also one as well."
"It seems that your Stand took the form of a jellyfish, and had fully awakened when you wanted to save the couple in danger," he continued.
You listened to Bucciarati as you resumed eating your spaghetti. He had asked about the Stand's ability of the man that encountered you, and you answered accordingly.
He held a grim face when you told him about it though. You never thought Bucciarati had cared about you, even if you held the false persona up in the past.
Despite your awkwardness with him, you two had a pleasant conversation overall. It felt as if Bucciarati was understanding to your situation, even thought you were not telling him the full truth.
Though, it was still stressful nonetheless, since he was Bruno Bucciarati, and if your memory served you correctly, he was one of the main cast in Vento Aureo.
What made it worse, was that after your long stay at Libeccio, he had offered to walk you home, making you hold his hand while doing so. If it were your false persona, you would have fucking died.
When you arrived home, the pile of drugs were no longer there, and your home was spotless of any dirt. Someone must have cleaned it for you.
You bid a farewell to Bucciarati, closing the door when he left, sliding down against it as you let out a sigh. You were completely exhausted for the day.
You got up, checking to see if everything was left in place, to which it was, even your diary was still in the hidden spot you put it.
You left it be in that spot, going to your bed and laying on it.
Tired from the hangout, you closed your eyes, falling asleep.
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
Meanwhile, with Bucciarati, he could not stop thinking about what happened today.
The unexpected appearance of drugs in your possession, to you having a Stand in the form of a human-eating jellyfish.
Not only that, your optimism was a result of drugs, not your personality.
From childhood, you were always hyper, calling out his name is a sing-song voice as you ran up to him while your parents were behind you.
His young self slightly envied you for still having both of your parents, even if you were adopted.
In his eyes, it seemed too good to be true. Your parents smiling while you and him had a play date.
They looked like the perfect couple, the perfect family.
Now, it seemed as though there was something lurking underneath the curtains. You were left alone to fend for yourself, your parents disappearing without a single trace, all without him knowing or being told.
Perhaps you were the same as Fugo, disowned by parents for something you did.
'There's more that meets the eye', Bucciarati thought.
Now that he thought about it....
....didn't you had visible veins when you were young?
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
❝ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭,
𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 ❞
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━