digiorno | ic inbox ( ruby city ) Ⅱ

Yeah.

[A beat, and then:]

What, you don't have that in Italy? It's-- I mean, it's what it sounds like, a day to celebrate fathers.

[Not your father, and he choses that wording deliberately.]

Mm-mm . . .

[Thoughtfully, he sucks the batter off his finger, staring at nothing.]

There's a whole day for that?

And for mothers, too, in May. Or June, sometimes, it's like Easter that way.

[He swipes another bit of batter onto his finger and glances over at Giorno.]

Haven't celebrated it in years, but I guess you always remember certain dates.

[He glances up at Polnareff, a little shy and tentative, chewing at the corner of his lip.]

So what do you do? On Father's Day. What are you supposed to do?

Well . . .

[He scoops a particularly big bit of batter onto his finger.]

There's cards, and presents . . . but mostly it's just about appreciating what you've got. And telling them that you love them, while they're still there to appreciate it.

[A beat-- and then he smiles and reaches over, smearing batter on Giorno's nose.]

If you help me with the rest of this cake, though, I'll count this as a gift.

[He's listening attentively right up until Polnareff puts batter on his nose. Batter on his nose, on his nose, and he yelps and swats at his hand instinctively.]

Knock it off, Papa! I won't help if you bully me!

[Except for how he absolutely will.]

[HAH, and he licks whatever's left off his finger.]

Oh, poor thing-- it's bullying with love, Giorno, that comes with being a papa! Anyway, you have to help me, I can't do frosting for anything.

[He huffs. But to have a cake with bad frosting is like having no cake at all, and so, with many a sigh and pointed look, he goes searching for the powdered sugar.]

How do I know you didn't just make up Father's Day to get me to help you bake?

Because I wouldn't make up a holiday, I'd just ask you.

[What a good son. In the meantime, whatever's left of the batter is ready to be put into the oven. Polnareff's got a pretty steady hand in pouring from bowl to pan, but of course, he's been doing this for a fair bit.]

Did you know how to make icing from before, or did Holly teach you?

Oh, that's true.

[He hums and starts filtering the powdered sugar into a bowl, glancing over his shoulder at Polnareff with a grin.]

Holly taught me! I didn't know how to make complicated desserts before. Just cookies mostly. But Holly knows everything.

Yeah.

[Cheerfully agreed. Isn't she great?]

She's the only reason I can bake anything. She taught me for-- actually, for your birthday. And then I asked her to teach me more, so here we are.

. . . Really? She didn't tell me that . . . she never takes credit for anything . . .

[Moms are so mysterious.]

[A shrug.]

I dunno if it's a Mom thing or a Holly thing, but either way, she deserves more credit then she gets.

You said the mother's day already went by?

[He missed it. Crap. He stirs in the cocoa powder viciously.]

Yeah. May. Although I bet we could do something anyway, it's not like she's gonna be upset about it. Most people don't get upset when they get presents outta nowhere.

What do you think she'd like?

. . . What do moms like? [HELP]

I think it's less moms and more personal. Flowers or chocolate is usually the way to go-- we could get her a bunch of flowers, I know Jotaro made her a vase, that might work. That, some chocolates-- we could ask Jotaro what kind of food she likes, make her supper one night.

Flowers and chocolate don't seem very personal . . . well, flowers can be if I make them.

[#purist]

We could do all of those things instead of just one.

So let's do it. You're good at flowers--- they've got meanings, right? We could do a bunch for like . . . love and gratitude or whatever. And make her a cake and whatever her favorite supper is. I mean, between all of us, we've got half of Europe and Asia covered, I'm pretty sure whatever she likes we can figure out.

I can't really cook Japanese food, though. Not good Japanese food. Maybe Kakyoin can help? But I'm in charge of the flowers.

Giorno, I think between the four of us, we can figure out one meal.

[He wrinkles his nose.]

I wonder if it'll be English food or Japanese food that she wants. I mean, either way, we'll get it down, but I hope it's Japanese.

[He hesitates, thinking back. Something Holly said once . . . about Kujos. She is a Kujo now. So—]

She . . . is a mother in Japan. Holly Kujo. So I think Japanese food. I think that's what we should do.

I wonder if I know enough about ikebana to make it work . . .

[He nods in agreement: all right, that sounds good, he isn't going to argue.]

What's ikebana?

It's flower arranging. That's the word for it in Japan. It's more than that, though, it's like an art. Very traditional.

I only learned a little bit about it. I didn't want to learn too much in Italy, since it would've made me . . . I don't know. I just didn't want to. But I could try, at least.

I bet you'd be good at it.

[He says it easily, the praise falling from his lips as he hoists himself up on the counter. He leans over, peering at the icing.]

What kind you making, vanilla?

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