Requested by CloudFair1997
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 1,371
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You had never expected the words "I joined the mafia!" to come from your younger cousin's mouth. Now, sitting across from him in a restaurant, you realize that he was completely serious when he called you. "Nara, are you serious? Don't you realize how dangerous that is?"
Narancia's smile fades slightly. "Well, yeah, of course. But I've got something that can protect me now . . . " He trails off on the last part of that sentence. Then, "Besides, I met a really awesome man named Mr. Bucciarati! He's like my second dad! And a good one too!"
You can't deny that nearly anyone would be an improvement over your uncle. It still worries you, however; you don't know if this Bucciarati man has good intentions. "I want to meet this guy."
"Y/N, you don't have to. He's a good--"
"I want to see this for myself."
After several minutes of going back and forth, you win the argument.
"Okay, I'll see if he's free tomorrow." Narancia pouts and plays with the food on his plate. "He is a good man, though."
------
The next day, you leave your apartment at eleven sharp and head to the restaurant you and Narancia had been at the evening before. On the way, you think back to the last time you'd seen him before running off to study abroad. It had been the day of his mother's funeral. You hadn't been able to keep in contact with him while you were away, and you long to catch up with him. Of course, the first step is meeting this Bucciarati guy and seeing what he's all about.
You enter the restaurant, and the first person you see is Narancia waving you over. There are two oddly-dressed men sitting with him. One has chin-length raven hair and wears a white suit with black spots. The other has long, silver hair, and you can't even begin to describe his navy blue jacket, suit, whatever it is. You take a seat between your cousin and the silver-haired man. "Y/N Ghirga. Pleasure to meet you."
The one in the spotted suit speaks up first. "My name is Bruno Bucciarati. I understand that you wanted to meet with me." He looks over at the other guy. "Oh, this is Abbacchio. He's one of my colleagues."
Abbacchio grunts but says nothing.
You clear your throat. "From what my cousin has told me, you, Mr. Bucciarati, have something to do with his joining the mafia. I would like to know why you did this."
Bucciarati's eyes widened. "Well, uh--" A thousand emotions flash across his face before he sighs in defeat. "Alright, I coerced him to join. He was on the streets, and I thought that this life would be better than that. I sincerely apologize."
Narancia's jaw drops at Bucciarati's words. He opens his mouth to speak but says nothing when the man glares at him. You discern that Bucciarati had told a flat-out lie.
Your face grows heated. You want to scream at him, at Narancia, at this weird guy who keeps glaring at you. But you bite your tongue and decide to approach this calmly. "Alright, then, how do I join?"
Narancia and Bucciarati both immediately protest. You cross your arms, letting them know you mean business. "Oh, please, if Narancia can join, it can't be that hard?" Sorry, Nara.
Bucciarati frowns deeply. "Miss Ghirga, this isn't a light matter. Passione is a very dangerous organization."
"I wonder if you told my cousin that before roping him into joining."
Bucciarati sighs in defeat. You can be as immoveable as a brick wall when you desire, and you knew he understood this. "I won't stop you."
"You better not."
You happen to glance over at Abbacchio. There's a mildly amused expression on his face, which he quickly wipes off when he notices you staring.
------
Passing Polpo's lighter test was a breeze (literally, the flame was extinguished by a breeze). You acquired a Stand named DragonForce, a dragon that can breathe fire. You joined Bucciarati's team, which consisted of himself, Narancia, a boy named Fugo, a man named Mista, and Abbacchio. As the third oldest person in the group, you often find yourself to be the mediator whenever there's an argument.
Which is nearly every damn day.
On this fine afternoon, Mista started an argument with both Fugo and Narancia about the quadratic equation in the middle of Libeccio (a restaurant you guys frequently visit).
"Mista," you begin, standing up and shouting above them, "there's no way you know more about math than Fugo does, so hush. Nara, stop adding fuel to the fire, and Fugo, you know they're just trying to make you angry. Now be quiet, all of you."
An uncomfortable silence grips the table. You sit down and toss your (h/c) hair sassily. They really get out of hand when Bucciarati is gone.
Unbeknownst to you, Abbacchio was subtly staring at you the entire time. You thought he wasn't interested in you at all (as neither a friend nor something more) when in reality, he's admired you since he first met you. The way you stood up to Bucciarati when you thought he'd convinced Narancia to join Passione, the fearlessness you showed when you joined Passione to protect your cousin, the overall guts you have when it comes to fighting . . . He believes in his heart you have the courage he regrettably doesn't.
A man who works in the restaurant cautiously approaches your table. "I have a message from a man named Mr. Bruno Bucciarati." He relays an address to your group and says Bucciarati wants you there as soon as possible.
Getting everyone to the address is a whole process, but when you arrive, you realize it isn't as serious as you'd thought. Bucciarati, his sleeves rolled up and his hair tied up, stands in front of the house and waves you over. "We're helping the elderly woman who lives here move. Grab the boxes inside the house, and move them out here." His expression turns serious. "And for the love of God and all things holy, please be careful."
"You got it, Bucciarati!" Narancia shouts before dashing into the house.
"Narancia, slow down!" the raven-haired man shouts back.
You sigh and shake your head before heading inside. You choose a small room upstairs to start with. Judging by some of the decorations in the room, you decide that it once belonged to a young girl. The only box left is on a rather high shelf. You try to reach it flat-footed, but when that doesn't work, you stand on the tips of your toes.
Abbacchio happens to walk by and immediately notices you struggling. He isn't sure what possesses him, but he enters the room quietly and reaches up to get it down for you. However, you had managed to reach it, and when you turn around, you see the silver-haired man standing awkwardly close to you.
"I, uh, I thought you couldn't reach it," he says quickly, crossing his arms.
You blink a few times. "Uh, okay."
Abbacchio's face is now a deep shade of red. You can't help but laugh at his flustered countenance; until now, you'd only ever seen him as serious, angry, or annoyed. "What are you looking at?" he practically spits.
You smile evilly. "You look embarrassed, Leone Abbacchio."
"Me? Embarrassed? You're imagining things."
"Your face is as red as a cherry, Leone."
"Is it?! Wait, why are you calling me by my first name?!" he shouts, turning away and muttering something quietly to himself.
"Okay, I'll stop." You go to leave the room when the man asks you to stay. You turn to him, wondering what he wants. It's true he sometimes gets flustered when people invade his personal space.
He doesn't like you, does he?
"I, uh, I just wanted to say that--The thing is--"
You set the box on the floor and step closer to him. He freezes when you gently press a small kiss on his cheekbone.
You didn't think it was possible, but his face turns even redder. "W-what was that?"
" . . . Affection?"
"Disgusting," he replies quickly.
" . . . "
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Do it again."