PSEUMINO, VENTO AUREO.

✦.⁺ circuit.

═ ☆. YOU AND MISTA DROPPED SCOLIPPI off at the hospital. You hoped he'd be okay, seeing as it was very likely he might not make use of his hand ever again. Scolippi would be fine, Mista drawled, but he wasn't a hand expert, you snapped. Reluctantly, Mista promised to compensate Scolippi if something came up.

You weren't sure what to say when you went to a fast-food drive-in after that. You declined to get anything and watched, fascinated, as Mista's order went to his Pistols. They scarfed down the food like it was nothing, bickering with each other like rowdy siblings. It had never occurred to you that Stands might need to eat. Of course, it wasn't like you would have to worry about that anyway.

Mista barely paid attention to his Pistols as you drove back to Sapiena. "You're telling me you didn't notice?"

"Notice what?"

"The guy Rolling Stones took the shape of. It was the same guy we saw earlier. Leone or whatever. I'm gonna have to tell Giorno; something's off about him. Seems a little too convenient that he just happened to be leaving as we were coming in. Send me a picture of his card later, yeah?"

Thinking about it, you realized Mista was right. You hadn't recognized him because he hadn't been wearing the glasses. Even if you barely knew him, you shuddered to think that he would've died in such a gruesome way.

"Still, it was stupid of you to try and push Rolling Stones down like that. You could've split your head open."

"I knew you wouldn't let that happen," Mista said. "Scolippi was right about all of that fate stuff, though. I should've died, but since Rolling Stone didn't say so, here I am. That, and I'm just naturally lucky."

It was hard to believe that so much had happened in the span of a few hours. You were already back at Sapiena, and the clock read a quarter to twelve. You would need a few days at least just to process everything.

Mista pulled into the Sapiena parking lot. "What did I say? It's barely noon. What do you say we grab some lunch and—"

You noticed someone standing nearby. "I have to go," you said distractedly. "We'll talk later."

You got out of Mista's car, closing the door on whatever he was saying. You crossed the parking lot to where an individual was leaning against his car, strawberry-patterned sneakers crossed over each other. The air of nonchalance around him was forced.

"I was wondering when you'd get back," Fugo said curtly. "How did it go?"

Your heart skipped a beat. Somehow, you knew that Fugo was talking about Scolippi. He'd found out. Despite his warnings, you had thrown in your lot with Giorno and Trish.

For several tense beats, neither of you said anything. Then Fugo opened the driver's side door. "Get in."

You knew Fugo was upset with you, but so were you. You and Narancia were only going behind his back because you knew he wouldn't listen to you. Maybe he did know better than the two of you, but if he did, why couldn't he just say what he was thinking?

You got in Fugo's car. He started to drive, and it didn't seem like he had any destination in mind.

"When were you going to tell me?" Fugo asked finally.

"We weren't," you admitted coolly. "You'd just say what you always did. Stay away from Giorno. Stay away from Trish. Don't trust them."

"And here I thought we were friends." Fugo let out a small, bitter chuckle. "I had to find out about this secondhand, from Pesci, of all people. No wonder Narancia looked so squirrelly every time I asked what you guys were doing." You thought Fugo was about to run a red light, but he sullenly put on the brakes. "What lies did Giorno and Trish tell you to get you to join them? I thought we agreed they were assholes for releasing Black Sabbath on you."