Pannacotta Fugo x Reader One-shots

[42] broken hearts.

The requests were all fluffy soft stuff so here I come with angst
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Fugo stood anxiously in front of a massive mahogany door. His breath was racing as his heart beating fast. Just right behind the door, there's someone he's dying to see again. Today is the day he never thought would come. This time, he won't let go.

He knocked on the door twice. No answer can be heard from inside. It was as expected, Giorno had told him earlier. The next thing he has to do is to open the door himself. So he did. The scene before him was devastating. If he can, he wants to scream, broke down.

She was sprawled on the couch in the dark empty room. Her legs were spreading wide open despite the skirt she wears. Her hands rested on the armrests. Her eyes were looking down at the carpet with no sign of life in them. There were dark eyebags under those dead eyes. The slightly opened lips have turned as pale as the stormy clouds. She was like a living dead person.

Something was crouching beside her. The creature has its head slept on one of her arms. It looked like some sort of a child, a small figure with bright silver skin. There was faint smoke with the same colors coming out of its mouth.

It was none but her own stand, High Hopes. Unlike its name, High Hopes smoke will make someone lost on their mind. Paralyzed while trapped in thoughts until eventually, they stop thinking. People will be in the state where they literally alive but dead inside. Once High Hopes cling to someone, they won't be able to escape their fate. Some other party had to get rid of High Hopes in thirty seconds or the person it was clinging onto won't be able to recover. Forever. Except for its stand user, her.

Giorno had told him about her situation, so Fugo came prepared. He wasn't ready at all. It was far scarier than he imagined. Horrific. He saw High Hopes in action dozens of times, but never on her like that.

Fugo gulped. His fingers were intertwining, fidgeting. "[y/n]." The name finally came out after so long.

The girl on the couch turned her head to him. It was slow for a small movement. She raised her head to rest against the couch backrest. Her stares were sending chills throughout Fugo's whole body. When the corner of her lips lifted slightly, he wants to cry.

"Well, well, well," she spoke after staring for a whole minute. Her voice was low, a little hoarse, creepy. "What do we have here? A traitor."

There was no change in her tone. Yet Fugo was sure she was emphasizing the word traitor. He bit his tongue in shame.

"No, no, no," she continued, still on the same flat tone. "Don't make such a face. We were all traitors. The only difference was who we betrayed."

Fugo hasn't found the strength to reply to her. His throat tightened up, suffocating him. What she said was right. He betrayed her and the rest of the gang.

"I see that you cleared Giono's mission. You made it out alive," she continued. Her smile was softer. The smile he missed to see. "That scar, did you bite on the capsule? You fought well. I'm sure you learn a lot by now. Congratulations, you made it back. Oh, enough from me. You must be coming here want to say something."

After seeing her smile, Fugo gained the courage to speak. It's been on his mind for half a year. "I want to apologize. I'm so sorry-"

"I don't need your apology," she interrupted. The smoke around her getting thicker and dense. There was no light in her eyes anymore. The smile had gone without a trace. "I don't need your sorry. What is there for me? Nothing. You did the mission, Giorno and Mista welcomed you in, that's it. It got nothing to do with me."

"No, please, [y/n]," Fugo cried, the tears actually departed. He fell on his knees, choked on his throat. "Please, listen to me. I'm so sorry for what happened. I missed you all this time. I won't leave you again. Just.., give me a chance." There go all his bottled emotions. For half a year, he was lamenting alone. Now they were spilling, overflowing.

"I forgot what it's like to cry," she said plainly. "It's not like I don't understand what you are feeling right now. I missed you too. I was." She locked eye contact with him. "But as you can see, I can't do anything. I still haven't left the battle. My body may be here, but my mind is still there. That's why I have to use my stand like this. Without the smoke, I will go violent. Got into a fighting stance, hallucinating on enemy ambush. At least like this, I can't move or think too much."

"I'm sure I can help you," he pleaded. Fugo wiped out his tears, refuse to give up on the situation. What she's been going through must be hurt too much for her to have to go in such a state. Fugo understands he will never know what happened in her battle. Those are things he regretted. But he's here to fix everything. "We can go through this together."

"Stop, you're only making my situation worse than it already is," she half growled, hands grabbing on the armrests. She took a deep breath to relax again. Looking away from Fugo, she closed her eyes. "I don't need you. I don't need anything. If you want to help me, then leave."

"[y/n], I-"

"Leave."

Fugo bit onto his tongue. Fists were curling as they were trembling. He weakly rose from the floor, leaving the room without saying anything. He had to realize that he wasn't the only one who tormented. He was too late as he was never there in the first place.

Once the door closed, tears were falling from their eyes. Not everything is fixable.