the root of the root and the bud of the bud (jjba: vento aureo)
Post-canon Naratrish, 10.3k. T. (The usual “everyone lives” AU.)
In which Narancia says something true, and many things follow.
Or: under the influence of cheap prosecco, Narancia tells Trish that he loves her. The thing is, this isn’t something that Trish exactly knew.
A gift for my dear friend @nonnegative.
“Three times,” Fugo muses, staring out the window with some distant astonishment. “You said it three times.”
“Who cares how many times I said it?!” Narancia snaps, banging his fist on the table until the cutlery rattles. “Tell me what I should do!”
Fugo pulls a face. “Why do you think I know?”
“You know fucking—” Narancia gestures furiously. “Calculus! Come on.” His voice pitches to a whine when he collapses onto the table, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Why’s Trish ignoring me, Fugo?”
“You’re thinking about it too hard,” Mista drawls. “Trish ignores me all the time.”
hawberries
