"(Y/nnnnn)~!" Your eye was begging to twitch slightly from the whine that pierced the otherwise quiet air.

Everyone was glad you returned mostly unscathed after running away. While some, like Abbacchio and Risotto, didn't show that they were delighted that you returned safely, you could see them smiling at times in the corner of your eye.

You will admit, you were also glad you were back.

Physically and mentally.

You were now able to reside back at your old place of residence with a sense of peace in your mind that you're a few steps closer to finding Kristen and ending things for good.

Having that said, you weren't at peace at this very moment.

You were casually watching the news Abbacchio so kindly put on earlier. You would've changed the channel if you knew where he sat the damn remote down, not to mention you were too lazy to call him back downstairs to get the remote for you.

It felt good being at a place you could call home.

You had your room, pet, clothes, and a secret stash of food that you forgot you kept under the couch.

Which now leads you to your newest unresolved problem.

Mista and Narancia.

Those two don't mix with you and snacks when put into an equation.

Or when they have anything to do with the beloved snacks; that you so lovingly spent your money on. You remembered every week it took for food from America to be transported to Italy, not to mention the absurd cost of shipping.

"(Y/nnnnnn)~!" Mista whined again.

had him and Narancia trapped in a double headlock, waiting for your order to WWE their asses.

You stared in disbelief at the pile of candy wrappers and empty chip bags you pulled from under the couch.

After discovering this unforeseen aftermath, you knew there were only two possible suspects that would dare raid your stash- or even find it.

You've only been back for three days and were ready to put someone into a comatose state.

JB shoved his nose in the pile of trash while letting out a series of pig snorts, hoping to find a chip bag with crumbs still inside.

You took a seat on the couch and looked at the two boys. You were deciding their poor fates for treason against the snack god they have betrayed.

You folded your hands neatly in your lap and cracked a smile.

"You two have thirty seconds to tell me which one of you two found my stash and ate the majority of it."

The two started instantly panicking and turning on one another.

"Mista! Just admit you found the stash! I didn't even know there were snacks under there!" Narancia screeched at the male.

"Like hell, I'm admitting to something I didn't even do! Don't try to push your mess onto me, you asshole!"

"I didn't do shit! You're the damn liar!"

You watched as Narancia tried to reach over to punch the brunette. He landed one sloppy hit on Mista, causing him to reciprocate and try to hit the latter in the nuts.

"Stop playing dirty!" Narancia screeched before finally getting hit in the jewels.

He buckled and groaned, only being held up by his neck from keeping him in such a tight hold.

"I'll kill you, you bastard!" He managed to say before hitting Mista in the same place he had been hit.

Mista soon buckled too and groaned.

Seeing as they were done fighting, you cleared your throat.

"Seeing as the two of you won't confess-" You looked at your stand and nodded.

"Wait, wait, wait-" Mista screamed, causing to stop himself from jumping and slamming their heads on the ground.

"What- what if neither of us did it?" He quickly sputtered out in a panic.

You never considered that someone else in the household would've eaten snacks they found under the couch.

It seemed pretty unrealistic that Bucciarati, Fugo, Trish, Giorno, or Abbacchio would eat something they found under the couch. But it didn't hurt to ask someone who could make a better judgment.

"Hey, Trish!" You yelled over your shoulder, hoping she could hear you from down the hall.

You could hear her quietly yell back 'one second,' with a series of rushed footsteps coming down the hall.

Trish quickly entered the living room, caught off guard by the sight of your stand keeping Narancia and Mista in a headlock.

was calmly watching the news on the television screen while Narancia and Mista stared at you with pleading eyes, squirming, occasionally, from being hunched over for too long.

"Do you think Giorno, Fugo, Abbacchio, or Bucciarati would've ate snacks they found under the couch?" You inquired, glancing at Trish before looking back at the boys.

"Well it depends-" she looked at her wet nails, softly blowing on them to help them dry faster. "Were the snacks still in their packaging?"

You motioned to the pile of trash JB was flopped on top of. "Quite obviously." You laughed at the sight of JB's snoring form.

She cracked a smile and glanced at the two. "How do you know they're not lying? They could be trying to shift the blame to save their skin." She flopped down on the couch next to you, carefully slinging an arm around you, making sure not to mess up her carefully manicured hand.

"If they were the ones to eat my snacks, they would've most likely shared." You stuck out your lip slightly in frustration.

"If they didn't, who did?" Trish spoke, eyeing the two suspiciously.

On cue, Fugo walked down the stairs with an empty bag of chips in his hand and a notebook.

Seemingly oblivious to the situation, he spoke, "Alight, Narancia, you can't run from your daily math lessons-" He froze halfway down the stairs and locked eyes with your stand.

The two were at eye level as your stand's head slowly scanned towards the bag of chips clamped in his hands.

"Fugo. Where did you get that seemingly American-size transported bag of chips." You pointed at the crumpled bag of chips in his hand.

Fugo slowly looked down at the bag, then back up at your stand.

He turned his heel and bolted up the stairs.

"Get his ass, !" Your stand released the two boys from their headlocks and hopped the railing, miraculously missing the tv; in the process.

Sometimes you questioned how your stand never fell down a flight of stairs in skates, but you realized up until this moment, it was just pure luck.

You watched as he fell face first and hit his head on a stair before slowly sliding down.

You held your head in your hands, not from the pain but the stupidity of your luck.

But you were also holding your head in your hands because you also think you might've given yourself a concussion.

"Your a dead man, Fugo!" Mista screeched, running up the stairs with Narancia following in pursuit.

"Yeah, we could've died because of you!" It was the last thing you heard before Narancia and Mista disappeared upstairs.

You and Trish sat in a moment of silence before she broke the silence. "I'll go get you some ice." She quietly got up and made her way to the kitchen.

Giorno poked his head downstairs and took in an abundance of information, all at once.

was currently unmoving at the foot of the stairs, JB was rolling a pile of trash, blood was pooling between your fingers from a possibly cracked skull, and Trish was emerging from the kitchen with a pack of frozen peas.

Putting the pieces together, he concluded fell down the stairs and cracked his head, causing Trish to get you some ice.

"Does anyone know why Mista and Narancia are kicking the shit out of Fugo in the middle of the hall upstairs?" You gestured to the pile of trash JB was rolling in. "Fugo has committed a crime." You simply stated, not removing your head from your hand as you applied the peas to your head with the other.

Giorno stayed still for a few seconds before quietly coming down the stairs. You watched in the corner of your eye as he carefully stepped over your stand and made his way toward you.

"Let me fix that before you get blood all over the couch." manifested behind him as Giorno carefully cupped the bag of frozen peas in his hand and held it against your head.

reached forward and instantly turned the bag into flesh and fused it to your head, healing the injury immediately.

You took your head out of your hand and poked the fresh piece of skin, wincing at the pain that still lingered. "Shit- sometimes I forget you don't instantly heal wounds." You grumbled, taking care to avoid touching your head again.

Giorno chucked and settled down on the couch next to you and Trish.

You could hear the commotion upstairs that sounded like a mix of screaming and moving feet. By the sounds of it, Narancia and Mista were winning the fight.

"Are we just going to let Mista and Narancia kill Fugo?" Trish inquired, Giorno, looking over at the two of you in curiosity.

"Death to the traitor." You declared, not feeling too bad for Fugo's punishment.

finally lifted his head and looked over at you before giving a thumbs-up in approval. You watched as he unmanifested in thin air, seemingly tired.

"Were you going to split Narancia and Mista's skulls over the snacks?" Trish spoke up, once again Giorno's attention drawn away from the television to listen.

"No. I was doing it to scare them; so they would spill. Then I would've kicked whoever's ass ate my snacks." You shrugged and continued idly watching the news, blocking out whatever the reporter was saying.

Trish gave your shoulder a slight squeeze before laying down in your lap. "It's good to have you back, (Y/n)." She flashed you a small smile before looking back at the tv.

You felt your cheeks warm up slightly before biting the inside of your cheeks to distract yourself. "Yeah, it's good to be back." You laughed, trying to fight the urge to blush.

The three of you jumped at the sound of a crash upstairs, followed by some shouting and running. You watched as Fugo, Narancia, and Mista ran down the stairs with a look of fear.

"What did you guys do now?" Giorno asked, not caring about what happened as long as it didn't involve him.

"We almost took Abbacchio's door off the hinges when you slammed Fugo into the door." Narancia sputtered out, making his way to the kitchen to hide while the other two ran down the hall.

You laughed at their stupidity, not noticing Abbacchio was angrily making his way down the stairs.

"Where did they go?" His voice was gruff and scratchy: like he woke up from a nap and had not drunk any water. He was angrily looking around, listening for any more moving footsteps that could indicate where the three males ran off.

You continued to laugh and shake your head, only managing to reply with a few words before continuing to laugh. "I'm- I'm not telling you shit. Snitches get stitches." You threw your head back madly, trying to stop yourself from laughing at the mental image you've created.

Trish waved her hand subtly, motioning to Abbacchio that someone was in the kitchen.

The silver-haired male nodded his head once before storming off to the kitchen. A few seconds later, you could hear Narancia's screams of terror, causing you to laugh harder.

After listening to a couple of things breaking in the kitchen and lots of screaming, Abbacchio walked out covered in a red substance. You stopped laughing, and the three of you looked at him in alarm.

He looked down at his clothes and tasted the substance. "It's jam, I think." No one had any words to say before he walked off to continue his hunt.

The kitchen was deadly quiet, causing you to become concerned. Giorno noticed the uncomfortable silence and spoke up. "I'll go check on him." He finished before getting up and going into the kitchen.

You and Trish looked at each other before shrugging and looking back at the tv.

It wasn't you two's problem.

"And where did you say they; were spotted again?" Risotto spoke into the phone, idly spinning a letter opener on his finger.

"The supermarket! There's no one dumb enough; to casually walk around with a tophat on in this heat!" Ghiaccio angrily spoke into the phone, adjusting a bag of groceries in the backseat of the car.

"Do I need to make a phone call to (Y/n)? We did promise to tell her any leads we had." Pesci meekly spoke up from the driver's seat.

Ghiaccio grunted in protest, causing Risotto to ask him what Pesci said. "Pesci is considering we actually tell (Y/n) about who we saw. You're not actually considering we tell her, are you?"

Risotto stopped spinning the letter opener, his eyes narrowing. "You know (Y/n) would've wanted to be told about this." He could hear Ghiaccio grunt on the other side.

They were both conflicted. On one hand, Risotto and Ghiaccio would do anything they could to help you- and they mean anything, but on the other hand, they both wanted to be a bit selfish and tell you nothing of what they know.

But if they said nothing, you would feel betrayed.

"Risotto?" Ghiaccio spoke up.

"We could bring them in today. I'm sure you could have a warehouse be ready for interrogation in less than an hour. Maybe have some cleaners on standby?" Ghiaccio hinted to Risotto about his disposal plan.

The white-haired male hummed in contemplation before making a decision. "I'll give (Y/n) a call once we have him. In the meantime, take care of this discreetly as possible."

Ghiaccio made a sound of understanding before hanging up. Risotto sat the phone down and rubbed his temples, having a lot of phone calls to make in a last-minute preparation.

You and Trish lounged across the couch together as Giorno patched up the three males at the dinner table. Abbacchio halted his rampage as soon as Bucciarati came home with groceries. Surprisingly the male didn't say much about the mess and side-eyed the four boys at the dinner table.

"He's been awfully quiet since he's been home." You mumbled, Trish humming in agreement as the two of you stared at him across the room.

He was walking in and out of the kitchen, moving bags of groceries into the kitchen to begin putting their contents away.

"You think he's just so fed up with us that he's just choosing not to speak?" You spoke. Trish took a second to decide before shrugging her shoulders. "He's probably just tired. He's been up since the crack of dawn working on paperwork."

You raised your eyebrow and looked at her, wondering how she knew that since her room is downstairs.

Sensing your confusion, she continued. "He was sitting at the table working before getting up to start another pot of coffee before breakfast."

You let out a small 'ahh,' now putting the pieces together. "Makes sense."

You could see the male hurriedly come out of the kitchen, rummaging through the bags with a puzzled look.

He let out a huff and put his hand against his head in irritation. Seemingly sensing Bucciarati's distress, Giorno spoke up. "What's wrong? Did you forget to buy something?"

Bucciarati let his hand fall to his side and huffed, "It seems I've forgotten to grab a few things while I was out."

He looked over at you and scratched his head. "(Y/n), go get changed; you are riding back with me." You put your hands up and gave him a slightly sour look.

"Why can't Abbacchio or Fugo go? They're more responsible." You could hear Narancia make a complaint before Mista hushed him.

"Just go get changed." He sighed before disappearing back into the kitchen.

You let out a huff in annoyance, having your free day taken away. You just felt like doing nothing all day.

Trish patted you on the shoulder before you got up to go get changed.

It didn't take long for you to decide on a shirt and pair of shorts. They were, actually, the first pair you grabbed from the top of the pile in your drawers.

You didn't care as long as they matched.

You slowly made your way down the hall, hopping as you struggled to slip your shoes on.

Bucciarati was waiting by the door that leads into the garage as you adjusted the heel of your shoes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." You mumbled. You gave one final wave goodbye, quickly snatching your flip phone off the coffee table before entering the garage.

"Oi, wait up!" You hurriedly climbed into the car that Bucciarati was already waiting in. "No need to be grumpy, we all forget shit at the store." You gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder, getting a bit of deja vu from Trish.

He chuckled, "I'm not grumpy, just tired. I can't believe I forgot the one thing that I need in my food for tonight." He sighed before chuckling once again.

"Oh? What did you forget?" Bucciarati started the car and backed out.

"Fresh mozzarella. Usually, we are pretty stocked; on mozzarella, but someone must've eaten it and not put it on the list." He put the car in drive and, steadily, made his way down the street.

"Ah- there's nothing better than fresh mozzarella. From the shape of it to the flavor of it, it's like taking a bite of God's right nut sack." You reminisced; about the time you ate the ball as a snack.

Bucciarati gave you a weird look, in awe about some of the bizarre things you say. He also wanted to question; how you knew how God's nut sack tasted, but dropped it.

After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, Bucciarati parallel parked the car before getting out.

You quickly got out of the car before following him into the market.

You looked around at the aisles of food, forgetting for a moment that you were in a supermarket and not heaven.

"(Y/n), let's go)." Bucciarati hurried you along, keeping you from being distracted by the food around you. He knew you were going to; ask for something, which he didn't mind.

You both made your way to the back of the store, catching sight of the dairy counter. You stopped and lingered in an aisle as Bucciarati went to grab his "precious" mozzarella.

Not even a minute passed before you felt yourself bump into someone, not paying attention while looking at snacks to beg Bucciarati to purchase for you.

"Ah, shit- I'm sorry." You looked over to make eye contact with a familiar pair of black eyes.

"Ghiaccio-" Before you could question why he was coincidentally at the same supermarket, he grabbed your arm and dragged you into a different aisle.

"Did he see you?"

"Wait- huh? Did who see me?" You were thrown off by the question, not expecting to be hiding from someone.

"The kid! The one with the tophat! Jesus, (Y/n), do you ever pay attention to your surroundings?!" He started to raise his voice before you flicked his nose.

"Quit yelling, who ever were hiding from is going to hear you, dumbass." He cleared his voice before poking his head out of the aisle and looking around.

"I don't think he knows you're here." You poked your head out and scanned around before your eyes fell on a large tophat. You remember the sight of the male from the fight in the parking lot.

"Oh! He's the kid with the weird thick fog!" You pointed at him before Ghiaccio pulled you back.

"No shit- I already have Pesci nearby and ready to get involved if shit goes south. But you can't be here because he'll recognize you immediately." He prodded a finger against your chest before retracting his hand.