Songstress' Palette (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo)

Quattro: Accelerated Perspective II

Eventually, Bucciarati leads us to our intended destination: the docks.

"We're going cruising on a yacht? That's awesome!" Narancia beams, eyeing the various boats and yachts lined along the docks.

"When did you get a yacht?" Abbacchio asks.

"We're going to rent one." Bucciarati stated

"Huh? Aw, it's just a rental." Narancia pouts.

"Say Bucciarati,...Whatever you do, please don't rent that one with the number 4. It'll sink. I know it." Mista warns.

"Oh, come on...If that were the case, it wouldn't be floating there now." Fugo reasons.

"Shut up! Then you can ride on that one!" Mista shouts back.

"Hm. A tetraphobic, huh?" I hum to myself.

"Eh? Tetra-what?" Narancia catches my mumbling. "You saying there's a sciency term for why he goes ballistic whenever something about the number for is around?"

"There's a lot of terms for a lot of fears. Though, I never thought I'd see someone outside of Asian culture to have such a fear."

"Why is that, anyway?" Fugo inquires, honestly curious to the meaning behind Mista's seemingly irrational fear.

Even Abbachio listens half-heartedly.

"In many Asian-based languages, the words for four often sound strikingly similar or exact to their words for death." I explain blankly.

"Ha! See? Proof that four is nothing but evil!" Mista then continues to hound Bucciarati about not getting the number four yacht.

"Excuse me. We'd like to rent a yacht." Bruno speaks to the rental owner.

The man behind the desk offers a warm smile. "Of course! You can use whichever one you like."

"Other than 4!" Mista reminds.

His worries being ignored by his teammates.

"All right. Sir, I'd like the one on the far left." Bruno points out the window at the yacht of his choice.

"All right. Let me get you the key." The man nods in affirmation and grabs the intended key.

"For now, I'd like to rent it for three days. How much will that cost?" Bruno inquires.

"Oh, I could never ask you for money, Mr. Bucciarati! Please, use it as long as you both would like."

The pair of silver keys to the Lagoon 1 glisten in the soldato's palm. "Thanks."

As the team makes ready to leave, Narancia and I drop a pile of snacks and drinks on the counter.

"Hey! Ring me up, pops!"

"These for me, please, signore."

Narancia looks at me wide-eyed, as my amount of snacks topples his own. "Whoa, that's some amount of food. You pregnant or something?"

The silence that follows the minute the words leave Narancia's mouth feels suffocating.

★★★

"Owowowowowowowowow!"

After paying for the snacks, I then proceed to drag Narancia by his ear to our intended yacht.

"OW! I'm sorry! It was a stupid question. I won't do it again. Bucciarati, do something! This girl's nuts!" Narancia begs his team leader.

"Maybe this will teach you to finally think before speaking, Narancia." Bucciarati remarks, making no move to dig out the boy from the pit he dug for himself the moment he made such a baseless comment.