[The quiet is something Fugo greatly appreciates. Even though this place is still so foreign, and there's nothing about their surroundings that'll let him forget it, there was something just a little comforting about it. He could relax, somewhat—not completely, and hardly enough, but somewhat.

He moves to take a seat across from Giorno, but that question... He swallows and sits down. It was only natural that Giorno would want to know more, but— how was he supposed to tell him? What could he even tell him? He could brush it off, or try to lie, but he got the feeling that Giorno would figure it out (figure him out) even if he did. He deserved to know what he knew, anyway, Fugo thought, but he barely knew enough for it to count.

He nods, curtly.]

Yeah. Seems that way. As far as I know, it's been a few months since... [Should he really tell him this?] ...since you beat the boss.

[It feels weird to say it like that, and weird to be saying it at all. Giorno should know these things.]

Do you really not remember?