Vento Oreo

16

"Ow, Fuck!" I yelp in pain as Giorno cleans out my injuries before healing them. "Hey, Giorno! Be gentler, damn it!"

"I'm sorry, but the mold seems to be attached to you." He apologizes. Getting back to work, the boy continues to detach the mold from me, making me scream.

Eventually, the drill is over and my leg is bandaged up. I sigh in relief and sit down on one of the chairs while Giorno starts treating Narancia.

Chills run down my spine as I can feel Cioccolata staring at our group. I bring my hands up and rub them against my arms, looking around suspiciously.

"Giorno," Bucciarati speaks from above, causing me to fall out of my seat in surprise. 

The two stop talking and turn their heads to stare at me.

"C-could you please give me a warning before you look down in here?" I ask. The leader nods slightly then turns to Giorno once more.

"How's Narancia's treatment going?" 

"It's hard to treat him in this village. There's living mold in his wounds." The protagonist answers.

Bruno then backs away and looks off to the distance.

"All right, Mista, climbing up is fine. We're going to go up those stairs and get ourselves a car."

"That's a bit cruel, Bucciarati." I hear Trish grumble under her breath. 

Giorno, Narancia, and I turn to her when she says this. 

"He didn't even ask Narancia if he was okay or not. Not to mention, earlier, when you were trying desperately to get up from the boat, what did he say? He coldly ordered you to throw the turtle." She says.

"What are you so mad about?" The seventeen-year-old asks from his position, lying down on the sofa. "Of course he said that. I was the one who went down into the boat. It's good that we made it out alive, but because of me, we almost died. Besides, if Bucciarati hadn't told me to throw the turtle, I might've dropped it into the ocean."

"I know that!" Trish interjects, "What I'm saying is that he's cold to everyone!"

Narancia just stares at her, a confused expression on his face before softening.

"Say. . . I don't really understand how girls feel, but. . . Were you hoping he would ask if you were okay?" The boy questions.

She faces in his direction.

"I already know how Bucciarati is, but you're dying to know more about him."

"Excuse me? I'm dying to what?" The pink-haired girl asks, her expression showing she feels offended and annoyed.

"Well, getting to Rome is what's most important right now. You can figure out your feelings later." Narancia sighs, turning around so that he faces the furniture and away from her. "I'm really not doing so great right now. Let me rest for a bit."

I get up and stand next to Giorno, the both of us in awkward positions as the two teens bickered between each other. Pulling out a deck of cards from my pocket, I look over to the fifteen-year-old and ask, "Wanna play Crazy Eights?"

"Sure." He answers.

The two of us move and sit on the floor. After dealing out the cards, we begin playing when shouting can be heard seconds later.

I pause and glance upwards, only for the whole room to start rumbling.

"Crap!" I yell, noticing the cards moving too.

Leaning forward, I grab on to the other cards sitting on the floor while Giorno, Trish, and Narancia all find something to hold on to. Due to me still being on the smooth surface of the floor, I begin slipping to one side.