[The smell of coffee wafts out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and through the hall. This is not unusual, because coffee is an important part of this predominately Italian household. What's unusual about this morning is the fresh plate of flakey, powder-dusted pastries on the counter next to Bruno's usual mug and a folded note. The open face of it reads For Buccellati in Fugo's precise and cramped handwriting. When unfolded, there's a simple message written inside: Buon compleanno. Thank you for everything.
After Bruno sits down for his breakfast, his watch will buzz as a message comes in from Giorno on his watch. If he chooses to open it, he will find a video that starts rather unceremoniously looking down at an empty spot of the theater’s stage that is partially obscured by a blurry golden finger. The view adjusts to focus on a piano, where Fugo and Giorno are sitting. Fugo quirks a smile up at whoever is holding the watch, before reaching out and carefully adjusting their fingers. “Grazie,” he tells them and leans back to nudge Giorno with his elbow. “Giogio, we’re on.”
Giorno startles visibly (slightly at the adjustment to the filmmaker’s grip, more when alerted to his Time To Shine), then gives a quirked, goofy smile at the camera. ”I’m ready,” he says, ”I think. Probably,” and elbows Fugo in the side.
Fugo laughs and has the look of someone who’s tempted to take step three in what would inevitably be an eternal cycle of jostling each other via elbows. “You’ll do fine,” he reassures, before looking back at the camera. “Today we’ll be playing for you a piano duet of ‘Heart and Soul,’ which was originally written by Hoagy Carmichael in 1938.”]
[With no further ado, Fugo focuses his attention on the keys of the piano. There’s sheet music, but it’s entirely for Giorno’s benefit. Fugo begins to play, his long fingers easily setting a steady, rolling rhythm in the lower register. Giorno is responsible for picking out the melody, something that doesn’t come as easily to him. This isn’t one perfect take: there are a few faltering false starts, where Giorno joins in a little too soon or can’t quite keep up with the pace and they need to start over. Fugo doesn’t seem to mind, but Giorno puffs out his cheeks and blows his bangs out of his eyes each time-- but, eventually, something clicks and they get it right.
The tune, when they finally get going, is a simple one. It’s perfect, in an easygoing way that speaks less of precision and more of comfort between the two of them. It’s clear they’ve practiced, but not to the point of technical perfection, because Giorno is relying heavily on Fugo to keep tempo, swaying back whenever he begins to stray a bit off beat. It’s not up to orchestra standard--but by the end they’re both smiling, Fugo faintly and Giorno in triumph. The piece finishes with a slight diminuendo and a delicate flourish from Giorno which, by the look on Fugo’s face, was not planned but also not unexpected. They both look up at the same time, bright and attentive and looking at the camera like they’re waiting for a reaction. Then Giorno lifts both his hands in the air and pronounces: ”Tada!” Beside him, before the camera goes dark and the recording ends, Fugo covers his mouth with one hand and his shoulders tremble with the effort not to laugh and ruin Giorno’s perfect finale.]
[When Bruno gets up to his room again, there will be a package leaned up against his door, garnished with a card marked TO BRUNO in Giorno’s distinctive hand. The package is wrapped in black and white-striped paper with a neatness that probably indicates the wrapper spent way too much time on it. The contents of the package are likely familiar to Bruno; they’re a reprise of the gift set Giorno gave Bruno last Christmas, their first big holiday together. The package contains: an amber necklace, cool to the touch; a fashionable sweater, made of alpaca wool, soft and loose; homemade potpourri (cedar, cinnamon, jasmine petals, pine shavings); fall leaves, preserved in glass paperweights; spices (freshly-ground ginger, paprika, basil, some Mystery Peppers); dried pumpkins + gourds with ginger and lavender-scented tealights; and a collection of twisting branches, decorated with tiny glowing lights.]
[The card is, perhaps surprisingly, short and simple. It reads: Bruno, I bet you thought this would be crammed with words, didn’t you? There’s no need. I love you and that’s what I need to say most of all, and most often. I love you. Buon compleanno from your Giorno.]
[On the other hand, the card is also full of gold glitter, so who does Giorno honestly think he’s fooling?]
[Bruno brings the packages inside his room to open, which he is fairly careful about doing. (It'd seem wrong just tearing into it when that much attention had been put into its presentation, honestly.) He takes the time to go through each of the contents, piling and stacking them carefully. Fortunately, he still has the box in his lap when he opens the card, but he's probably still going to find gold glitter for weeks in various places in his room.]
[And yet, it's not something he entirely minds. It just wouldn't be a present or message from Giorno if it didn't contain some of his usual flair.]
[Bruno takes the time to place and put away each of the presents Giorno's given him, but it's the card that gets a little more mental consideration than anything. It's not to say that Giorno's gifts aren't nice, but given how recently it's been since Bruno and Polnareff said I love you to one another, and Bruno has had to at least start to face the fact he wants to go home, Giorno's short and simple message strikes a deep chord with Bruno.]
[Bruno isn't stupid or self-deprecating to an almost insulting degree. He's aware of the influence he's had over the others, but it's sometimes easier to forget that influence over Giorno from time to time. Giorno hadn't needed him as much as the others had. He was already headed down the right path before he even met Bruno. He just needed a little more time and a little more patient guidance to settle into it without question. No, it's always so much easier to think of things with Giorno as the other way around. It doesn't take much thought at all to begin feeling gratitude for everything, for having met and for being given a second chance. In some ways, it's felt more like Bruno needed Giorno more than the other way around, and maybe that's true. Maybe it isn't. But does it really matter?]
[Before Bruno even leaves his bedroom, he decides that it probably isn't. It really is as simple as Giorno wrote it in the card because everything else pales in comparison.]
[Bruno heads down the hall, stopping outside Giorno's bedroom door, and knocks.]
[He isn't actually expecting Bruno. To be perfectly honest, he thinks Bruno will go see Fugo first and him later, and that's fair. He wants it, even, because Fugo organized so much of this, and Fugo deserves that attention.]
[Of course, while Bruno has been looking through his gifts, Giorno has been bullying Fugo into a nap. He isn't sure Fugo will stay down, but it was a promising bullying, so he's fairly satisfied that it will culminate in a rest, at least, if not a nap. As a result, though, he's heading down the hall as Bruno is knocking and starts a little in surprise when he sees him. Then he laces his fingers together behind his back and nods slightly.]
Buon giorno, Bruno. Are you having a good birthday?
[Fugo will certainly have his attention when it's his turn, but with the tendency to err on the side of modesty and shyness, Fugo will need a little more space between his bestowing of presents on Bruno and Bruno's gratitude to unwind from the preparation. Giorno requires no such delay as he has the tendency of basking in a job well done even more when he's offered praise for it.]
If you exclude having to pick glitter off my couch for the next year, it hasn't been so bad so far.
Wow. Who gave you so much glitter? That's very silly. You don't like glitter at all.
[HIM. IT WAS HIM. HE DID THAT. He did, in fact, set himself up for a joke at his own expense, and he's pretty glad that it obviously made Bruno smile at least a little bit.]
Maybe they just wanted you to think of them often. While picking glitter off your couch. Something like that.
Is that the reason? [Bruno hums thoughtfully because if Giorno's going to poorly play dumb...] I'd like to think they'd already know how often I think of them.
They have that sort of personality that makes it hard not to, anyway.
See, now you're trying to trick me into actually admitting it was me. But I won't. Because I know you're very grateful and this is a fun game, so you can't make me.
[Much later in the afternoon, perhaps long enough for someone to have gone and slept for a few hours because he was up Very Early making Complicated Italian Pastries, Bruno will receive two additional messages from Fugo. They’re both audio and aren’t prefaced by any sort of special messages.
The first is an hour-long recording of piano jazz, presumably some of the music that Fugo memorized during his time playing piano at the bar. Although it’s what Fugo would call stiff and someone as well-versed in the genre as Bruno is will be able to sense that it’s a touch stilted in some places, it’s a performance meant to set whoever is listening to at ease.
The second recording is much shorter. It’s just one song: a jazz rendition of Pachebel’s Canon In D. Unlike the first recording, this one is played with light fingers and an easier heart.]
[Believe it or not, Bruno listens to the entirety of the audio messages. More than that, he sets aside everything else for a short while to listen, setting his watch down on the coffee table in front of his sofa and curling up. Bruno has a soft smile throughout both performances though a slightly wider smile appears whenever Fugo's playing seems to drift out of its somewhat stilted play style after particularly longer pieces where it's held firm. These aren't perfect performances, but that hardly matters to Bruno. What matters to him is that there's feeling behind Fugo's playing, and that conveys easily and perfectly.]
[After all the music is done, Bruno sits in silence for a little while after the recordings are through playing, reflecting upon it. He leans over, closing his watch, and then stands up. Rather than going out into the hallway, he takes the shortcut of opening the door to his walk-in and crossing through their shared bathroom. He does still knock on the doorframe all the same, however.]
[Fugo looks up at the sound of Bruno's knock. He's sitting crosslegged in the middle of his bed, with a large book of crosswords spread in front of him. Rather than writing on the pages directly, he's got a piece of graph paper laid over top the puzzle and is using a pen and ruler to recreate it on something a little less permanent. There's a mug within reach on his night stand, filling the room with a warm and gingery smell. He smiles, brief and and crooked, before venturing:]
[Bruno's smile is a little more persistent than Fugo's, but for once it takes a little more effort on Bruno's part to keep it as quiet as it usually is. It's not childish excitement that causes the difficulty, of course. Bruno's not the type to get over-excited about his birthday and never really has been even when he was a small child. But it's hard to suppress a smile when there's this much outpouring of warmth and love from other people, and it would be an understatement to say that Bruno feels grateful for all of it.]
I am, [he says, stepping into Fugo's room. He sits down on the edge of Fugo's bed.] And I have you to thank for at least some of it.
Well, maybe a little. [He's not trying to be dismissive or coy. It's just that Fugo looks at what he's done for Bruno today and feels like he's come up a little short, somehow. Oh, there's no denying he's helped--but the duet was Giorno's idea, the cake was Polnareff's thing mostly, and when it came down to it he gave Bruno pastries and some music. One of which will probably be gone within a day, the other which is something he was working on anyway.
But he's still pleased, in his subtle Fugo way, to see Bruno so happy. His expression is light and unworried; when Bruno sits on the edge of the bed, he gathers what he was working on and sets it aside on the nightstand.]
[Bruno doesn't bother with trying to correct Fugo on the extent of his contributions. He imagines that Fugo did contribute in only little ways to the vast majority of the things he's received. The thing of it is that he contributes in only little ways multiple times, which is so characteristic of what Fugo often does for the people around him that he cares about.]
[He always strove to take little things off Bruno's plate when Bruno was still team leader, and Bruno imagines that he does the same for Giorno now. It's where Fugo is more comfortable because he can still see the results of his actions, but they often go without notice or, at the very least, commentary. But Bruno learned to see Fugo's actions a long time ago, and he feels confident enough that Fugo knows that he notices that he never feels the urge or need to lay it on thick whenever he takes a moment to truly acknowledge and appreciate what he does.]
Me, too, [he admits.] I couldn't ask for anything more.
[While not like Kakyoin and Fugo who would do everything they could to get out of celebrating their birthdays if given the chance, Bruno is glad that it's overall been a fairly quiet day and that its acknowledgment as his birthday has remained within the famiglia rather than to the household at large. It's simply more familiar to him to have it this way than any other.]
[It's always been nice how Bruno has never pushed praise on him. Fugo squirms under too much attention; slides out from underneath compliments and endeavors to work more unobtrusively when he is noticed. For Fugo, it's enough to know that he's helped and to know that Bruno can see his proverbial fingerprints left behind by his efforts.]
Well, then it seems like you'll be getting more than you asked for. [There's a warm touch of humor in Fugo's voice.] Because Polnareff has something planned for this evening. He's very excited about it.
But-- [He leans back against the headboard, making a flicking gesture with his hand.] You didn't hear that from me.
[As if it hasn't been obvious all week that Polnareff's been up to something, what with the way he's been buzzing around the house and leaning in confer with Fugo and Giorno in just barely-inaudible secret conferences.]
Of course not. [And certainly not because Bruno could have absolutely guessed that for himself. Giorno, Fugo, and Polnareff have been extremely covert. Such to the point that Bruno was completely surprised they even remembered it's his birthday today. Yep.] I noticed the three of you are becoming thick as thieves lately. I wouldn't want to disrupt that.
[A comment that is equal parts just continuing to feign ignorance, but also expressed pleasure at seeing the people who matter the most to him doing more than just coexisting. More days than most and more often than Bruno would likely admit to it, he misses his team. This isn't the same, of course. The configuration of Bruno with Giorno, Fugo, and Polnareff doesn't match that, but there's still something equally special about it.]
Too bad there's nothing to steal here. We'd run a pretty tight operation. [Fugo's only being a little sarcastic. He is perhaps a little more adjusted to life outside of the mafia thanks to the time he spent in Milan, but it's still unsettling to him to be living such a relatively peaceful life. He itches for Napoli and the work that waits there, helping Giorno to manage Passione and steadily increase and refine its influence.]
JP was actually pestering me about what Giorno and I had planned. He's kind of nosy. No wonder Giorno likes him so much.
I'm a little surprised they haven't yet. [Fugo's gaze drops down to one of his hands, which is fiddling with the corner of a pillowcase.] Considering all the hints I've been sidestepping from Giorno and how annoyed JP was when I wouldn't tell him after he asked.
Unless they've already asked and you've already told them. But I don't think you would have brought it up like this if that were the case.
[Bruno shakes his head in confirmation that he wouldn't bring it up if they'd already asked and he gave the answer.]
If they had asked, I wouldn't have told them without talking to you first, anyway. I know that Jean would keep himself under control like he did for Kakyoin, and I think Giorno would, too, but I know you don't really like a big production on your birthday all the same.
[Even subdued, Giorno and Polnareff are not exactly like Bruno picking up a small cake from a local bakery alongside a modest present meant to come from the entire team. Those are two different things even in small ways.]
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BRIGHT & EARLY ON 9/27
After Bruno sits down for his breakfast, his watch will buzz as a message comes in from Giorno on his watch. If he chooses to open it, he will find a video that starts rather unceremoniously looking down at an empty spot of the theater’s stage that is partially obscured by a blurry golden finger. The view adjusts to focus on a piano, where Fugo and Giorno are sitting. Fugo quirks a smile up at whoever is holding the watch, before reaching out and carefully adjusting their fingers. “Grazie,” he tells them and leans back to nudge Giorno with his elbow. “Giogio, we’re on.”
Giorno startles visibly (slightly at the adjustment to the filmmaker’s grip, more when alerted to his Time To Shine), then gives a quirked, goofy smile at the camera. ”I’m ready,” he says, ”I think. Probably,” and elbows Fugo in the side.
Fugo laughs and has the look of someone who’s tempted to take step three in what would inevitably be an eternal cycle of jostling each other via elbows. “You’ll do fine,” he reassures, before looking back at the camera. “Today we’ll be playing for you a piano duet of ‘Heart and Soul,’ which was originally written by Hoagy Carmichael in 1938.”]
[With no further ado, Fugo focuses his attention on the keys of the piano. There’s sheet music, but it’s entirely for Giorno’s benefit. Fugo begins to play, his long fingers easily setting a steady, rolling rhythm in the lower register. Giorno is responsible for picking out the melody, something that doesn’t come as easily to him. This isn’t one perfect take: there are a few faltering false starts, where Giorno joins in a little too soon or can’t quite keep up with the pace and they need to start over. Fugo doesn’t seem to mind, but Giorno puffs out his cheeks and blows his bangs out of his eyes each time-- but, eventually, something clicks and they get it right.
The tune, when they finally get going, is a simple one. It’s perfect, in an easygoing way that speaks less of precision and more of comfort between the two of them. It’s clear they’ve practiced, but not to the point of technical perfection, because Giorno is relying heavily on Fugo to keep tempo, swaying back whenever he begins to stray a bit off beat. It’s not up to orchestra standard--but by the end they’re both smiling, Fugo faintly and Giorno in triumph. The piece finishes with a slight diminuendo and a delicate flourish from Giorno which, by the look on Fugo’s face, was not planned but also not unexpected. They both look up at the same time, bright and attentive and looking at the camera like they’re waiting for a reaction. Then Giorno lifts both his hands in the air and pronounces: ”Tada!” Beside him, before the camera goes dark and the recording ends, Fugo covers his mouth with one hand and his shoulders tremble with the effort not to laugh and ruin Giorno’s perfect finale.]
SLIGHTLY LATER ON 9/27
[The card is, perhaps surprisingly, short and simple. It reads: Bruno, I bet you thought this would be crammed with words, didn’t you? There’s no need. I love you and that’s what I need to say most of all, and most often. I love you. Buon compleanno from your Giorno.]
[On the other hand, the card is also full of gold glitter, so who does Giorno honestly think he’s fooling?]
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[And yet, it's not something he entirely minds. It just wouldn't be a present or message from Giorno if it didn't contain some of his usual flair.]
[Bruno takes the time to place and put away each of the presents Giorno's given him, but it's the card that gets a little more mental consideration than anything. It's not to say that Giorno's gifts aren't nice, but given how recently it's been since Bruno and Polnareff said I love you to one another, and Bruno has had to at least start to face the fact he wants to go home, Giorno's short and simple message strikes a deep chord with Bruno.]
[Bruno isn't stupid or self-deprecating to an almost insulting degree. He's aware of the influence he's had over the others, but it's sometimes easier to forget that influence over Giorno from time to time. Giorno hadn't needed him as much as the others had. He was already headed down the right path before he even met Bruno. He just needed a little more time and a little more patient guidance to settle into it without question. No, it's always so much easier to think of things with Giorno as the other way around. It doesn't take much thought at all to begin feeling gratitude for everything, for having met and for being given a second chance. In some ways, it's felt more like Bruno needed Giorno more than the other way around, and maybe that's true. Maybe it isn't. But does it really matter?]
[Before Bruno even leaves his bedroom, he decides that it probably isn't. It really is as simple as Giorno wrote it in the card because everything else pales in comparison.]
[Bruno heads down the hall, stopping outside Giorno's bedroom door, and knocks.]
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[Of course, while Bruno has been looking through his gifts, Giorno has been bullying Fugo into a nap. He isn't sure Fugo will stay down, but it was a promising bullying, so he's fairly satisfied that it will culminate in a rest, at least, if not a nap. As a result, though, he's heading down the hall as Bruno is knocking and starts a little in surprise when he sees him. Then he laces his fingers together behind his back and nods slightly.]
Buon giorno, Bruno. Are you having a good birthday?
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If you exclude having to pick glitter off my couch for the next year, it hasn't been so bad so far.
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[HIM. IT WAS HIM. HE DID THAT. He did, in fact, set himself up for a joke at his own expense, and he's pretty glad that it obviously made Bruno smile at least a little bit.]
Maybe they just wanted you to think of them often. While picking glitter off your couch. Something like that.
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They have that sort of personality that makes it hard not to, anyway.
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[C8 THEY'RE STILL TALKING ABOUT HIM. IT'S HIM. GIORNO GIOVANNA.]
You know several very greedy people. But most of them are me. So maybe it was me.
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[Take that.]
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You saw right through me. [And yet, it is not enough to save Giorno from getting an arm around his shoulders.] When did you get so clever?
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I've always been clever. You know that.
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[Nah, when Giorno wriggles in further, Bruno loops his other arm around loosely and moves this from a mild embrace to a certified hug.]
No, I hadn't noticed at all.
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AFTER A NAP ON 9/27
The first is an hour-long recording of piano jazz, presumably some of the music that Fugo memorized during his time playing piano at the bar. Although it’s what Fugo would call stiff and someone as well-versed in the genre as Bruno is will be able to sense that it’s a touch stilted in some places, it’s a performance meant to set whoever is listening to at ease.
The second recording is much shorter. It’s just one song: a jazz rendition of Pachebel’s Canon In D. Unlike the first recording, this one is played with light fingers and an easier heart.]
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[After all the music is done, Bruno sits in silence for a little while after the recordings are through playing, reflecting upon it. He leans over, closing his watch, and then stands up. Rather than going out into the hallway, he takes the shortcut of opening the door to his walk-in and crossing through their shared bathroom. He does still knock on the doorframe all the same, however.]
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Having a good birthday?
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I am, [he says, stepping into Fugo's room. He sits down on the edge of Fugo's bed.] And I have you to thank for at least some of it.
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But he's still pleased, in his subtle Fugo way, to see Bruno so happy. His expression is light and unworried; when Bruno sits on the edge of the bed, he gathers what he was working on and sets it aside on the nightstand.]
I'm glad you're having a good day.
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[He always strove to take little things off Bruno's plate when Bruno was still team leader, and Bruno imagines that he does the same for Giorno now. It's where Fugo is more comfortable because he can still see the results of his actions, but they often go without notice or, at the very least, commentary. But Bruno learned to see Fugo's actions a long time ago, and he feels confident enough that Fugo knows that he notices that he never feels the urge or need to lay it on thick whenever he takes a moment to truly acknowledge and appreciate what he does.]
Me, too, [he admits.] I couldn't ask for anything more.
[While not like Kakyoin and Fugo who would do everything they could to get out of celebrating their birthdays if given the chance, Bruno is glad that it's overall been a fairly quiet day and that its acknowledgment as his birthday has remained within the famiglia rather than to the household at large. It's simply more familiar to him to have it this way than any other.]
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Well, then it seems like you'll be getting more than you asked for. [There's a warm touch of humor in Fugo's voice.] Because Polnareff has something planned for this evening. He's very excited about it.
But-- [He leans back against the headboard, making a flicking gesture with his hand.] You didn't hear that from me.
[As if it hasn't been obvious all week that Polnareff's been up to something, what with the way he's been buzzing around the house and leaning in confer with Fugo and Giorno in just barely-inaudible secret conferences.]
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Of course not. [And certainly not because Bruno could have absolutely guessed that for himself. Giorno, Fugo, and Polnareff have been extremely covert. Such to the point that Bruno was completely surprised they even remembered it's his birthday today. Yep.] I noticed the three of you are becoming thick as thieves lately. I wouldn't want to disrupt that.
[A comment that is equal parts just continuing to feign ignorance, but also expressed pleasure at seeing the people who matter the most to him doing more than just coexisting. More days than most and more often than Bruno would likely admit to it, he misses his team. This isn't the same, of course. The configuration of Bruno with Giorno, Fugo, and Polnareff doesn't match that, but there's still something equally special about it.]
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JP was actually pestering me about what Giorno and I had planned. He's kind of nosy. No wonder Giorno likes him so much.
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You realize the two of them are going to come to me for your birthday if you don't tell them when it is, right?
[Because it's not just Bruno that serves as a uniting factor for those two.]
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Unless they've already asked and you've already told them. But I don't think you would have brought it up like this if that were the case.
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If they had asked, I wouldn't have told them without talking to you first, anyway. I know that Jean would keep himself under control like he did for Kakyoin, and I think Giorno would, too, but I know you don't really like a big production on your birthday all the same.
[Even subdued, Giorno and Polnareff are not exactly like Bruno picking up a small cake from a local bakery alongside a modest present meant to come from the entire team. Those are two different things even in small ways.]
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