Vento Oreo

☆Coming Home☆

A/n: Hot damn, I haven't touched this story in a while! It almost feels nostalgic. Anyways, here's one of the bonus chapters I managed to write, as requested by Elimonami . Sorry for the long wait!

"(F/n), damn it! You lied to us! This is a hotel, not a restaurant!" Mista scolds me.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. We can stay the night. I have enough money. . . Probably." I reply, waving him off. "Besides, after our whole trip, we really deserve some rest."

With the help of Bruno, we manage to get a few rooms for the night.

Narancia, Mista, and Giorno would share a room. Same goes for Abbacchio, Polnareff, and Bucciarati, and Trish and I.

Throwing my bag on to the floor, I plop myselg on to a bed face-down while the pink-haired teen quitely lays down in the other and sighs in exhaustion.

We all agreed to take a few ours of rest before meeting up at the café.

Some silence passes between us before I decide to speak up.

"I'm glad this is finally over, but at the same time. . ." I hesitate, "I'm worried of what will come in the future. A lot of the time, you only become friends with someone because you see them every day, but once you stop, it's as if you had never met. . . What if that happens with us?"

She remains silent.

"We've all grown so close, and I don't want to lose this relationship we've made throughout this journey. And please don't assume this is because you guys are characters from a show I like."

". . . Then we'll just have to stick together until the end." She finally responds.

I pause and turn my head to look at her.

"Trish. . . You know that's practically impossible. I don't know about the rest of the gang, but I plan on completing school and going to college. Maybe even university." I state, sitting up.

"We have other means of communication. So if we do seperate, we can always talk through technology or even letters." She tries to convince me.

I stare at her for a while before smiling and facing forward. "You're really stubborn, you know that? . . . And sometimes, it can be a good thing."

More silence passes by.

"Well, I'm going to take a nap. You should too. It's not healthy to live off of so little sleep." I sigh, lying back down.

Within minutes, my world goes black.

~Timeskip~

"(F/n). . . (F/n)!"

"Huh?" I mumble, getting shaken awake.

Opening my eyes I see Trish standing above me.

"Oh, hey. . ." I yawn while getting up, "You get any rest?"

"Not really. I couldn't sleep." She replies.

A look of concern soon appears in my face. "It's not because of what happened, is it?" I ask.

"No. I just have. . . A lot of things on my mind. . ." The fifteen-year-old trails off.

My gaze lingered on her, but I decided to not bother her any more about it.

If she's comfortable telling me it, then she will.

Walking over, I grab the key card to the room. "Well, let's go then."

The two of us get to the dining area and see everyone else waiting at a table with menus.

"Oh? Hey, Trish! (F/n)!" Narancia waves as we approach.

We greet him back and sit down in the empty seats, taking a look at the menu before ordering.

"May I take your order?" A waiter comes up with a small notepad and pen in hand.

"Yes, we'll-"

"I'll take a spaghetti al nero di seppia!" I exclaimed a little too excitedly. Just a little.

Noticing everyone else in the room staring, I give a sheepish smile and sit back down, clearing my throat. "Ahem, I'll have spaghetti al nero di seppia. . . Please."

The waiter nods hesitantly and writes the order down. Everybody orders after and the staff member leaves to the kitchen.

When my order arrives, I stare with amazement and curiosity, my eyes sparkling with wonder.

Sticking the fork in and twisting it, I take the pasta and place it in my mouth.

"Woah. . . It's. . . It's. . . !" The others look at you in anticipation. "Okay."

"Eh?"

"I thought you said it was good here."

"Meh, guess it just isn't really my thing. But I'll overreact just for the sake of it." I shrug, "Yum! Well isn't this a treat! I like it! It's good!"

The gang stares at me weirdly before sighing and eating their share of food.

We gather outside the hotel once finished.

"While we're here, why don't we explore the city?" I suggest as we gather outside the hotel.

"Where are we gonna go?" Narancia asks.

I put a hand under my chin, thinking. "Hmm. . . Yeah, we can't really go to the Colosseum since you guys might have PTSD. . ." I mutter aloud, causing them to send more weird looks at me.

We all just ended up wandering the area, going to nearby landmarks such as the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. The day was spent on relaxing after the adrenaline-filled events of our adventure.

The next morning, we took a train back to Naples.

During the journey home, I couldn't help but have flashbacks to certain scenes when in familiar areas.

In Rome, the battles against Diavolo, Cioccolata, and Secco replay in my head. As we head home, I am reminded of the Grateful Dead and Beach Boy arc. In Naples, I remember the earliest scenes of Vento Aureo.

Bucciarati volunteers to drop me off home, and as I exit the car, a nostalgic feeling arises from within me. But I suck it up and turn around to bid him goodbye. I watch as his car drives off into the distance, farther and farther away until it was gone.

Taking a shaky breath, I turn and walk up to the door, bringing my hand up then ringing the bell.

Footsteps could be heard coming from the other side before the door suddenly opens, revealing my mother.

"(F/n), you're home!" She exclaims, to which my dad rushes over upon hearing my name.

They both smiled, and I did so too in return, only for my facial muscles to betray me and turn into a frown. My head us bowed down as my shoulders shake.

"(F/n)...?" My father asks.

I ball my hands up into fists before suddenly wrapping my arms around them, crying aloud.

"Why are you crying, dear?"

"(F/n), is something wrong?"

They ask me, but shake my head as I bawled into their shoulders. "No! Nothing's wrong! Everything is perfect just the way it is!"

My parents seem to be stunned at my response for a second, then encased me in their arms. The tears continued streaming down my cheeks as we stood there, hugging for who knows how long.

I feel safe in their arms. Safe and secure, as if nothing can harm me now - a feeling I haven't been able to truly experience for the past week.

Once my emotions calmed down, I manage to whisper a quiet "I love you."

They both hugged me tighter and rubbed my back in a soothing manner as I tightened my hold around them.

"Come on now, let's go inside." My mother suggested quietly, "We can go and watch a movie or do whatever you like."

We all part while I sniffed and wiped my tears.

"Yeah... I'd like that."