[Fugo nods into Giorno's shoulder, fingers flexing between Giorno's shoulder. This is a grief that they share in: when Fugo thinks of Napoli, his heart aches with a profound homesickness for... well, all of it.]

I do. When I was in Milan, it was the sea I missed the most. [Absurdly, that had been one of the reasons why he chose the city. Far from the ocean, far from the long reach of Passione. It hadn't been far enough, but he doesn't think of that as a bad thing.] But here, it's the... [He sighs, shifts, and readjusts himself so he's not so tightly folded against Giorno's side.] Well, everything. But there's nothing here that looks or sounds like a city.

[Even like this, he's still indignant about it. Ruby City is such a terrible name for this stupid place.]