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Entry tags:
Tutoring
Title: Tutoring
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Risotto, Narancia
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 535
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentioned character death
Summary: Risotto teaches Narancia long division.
Notes: brain: hey Mini you should update this fic you haven't touched for a year and a half
While basic elementary level math skills are not the primary tools of an assassin, Risotto is at least intelligent enough to have retained them. They come in handy in other places, grocery shopping for example, and he has more than enough brainpower to remember them as well as more pertinent skills to killing people.
He can’t say he’s the greatest math tutor in the world, but what he can say with certainty is that he’s never stabbed someone with a fork for getting a question wrong.
Really, Fugo. Risotto knows he makes Narancia happy, and for that alone he’s willing to be his ‘wingman’ (“it’s funny because my Stand’s Aerosmith,” Narancia had explained, after Risotto failed to get the joke), but he does sometimes question how someone with as bad a temper as that ever expected to teach anything.
“Try again,” he says, as patient as ever. “You almost had it.”
Narancia squints at his piece of paper. “Okay, so… Two hundred forty-eight divided by four. First I look at the two and the four. Four’s bigger than two, so it doesn’t go into two… right?”
“Right,” Risotto says.
“So then I look at four and twenty-four.” When Risotto nods, Narancia scrunches up his face more. “And four goes into twenty-four… seven times! So it’s gotta be-”
“Six times,” Risotto corrects.
Narancia scowls and balls up the paper he’d been working on.
Risotto doesn’t bat an eyelash - Narancia does that a lot. “You were close. Do you want to take a break before trying again?”
“How are you so good at this?” Narancia asks. “I don’t get it.”
“Long division is hard for everyone at the beginning,” Risotto explains. “You shouldn’t feel bad over having trouble with it.”
“No, I mean - this stuff.” Narancia waves his hands vaguely, and when Risotto just stares blankly at him, asks, “How are you so good at teaching? You never get mad at me like Fugo does.”
“...Ah.” Risotto looks away. “I used to teach my cousin like this: he was only a few years younger than me. My aunt and uncle were always busy working to provide for him, so they didn’t have time to help him with his schoolwork.”
“Was he really bad at it, like me?” Narancia asks.
“At first. He was getting better at it, when...” Risotto hesitates, briefly. “When he died.”
“‘m sorry,” Narancia says, quiet.
Risotto swallows. He hasn’t told this story to many outside of his own squad. “It was a drunk driver. Even though he was punished by the law, I still couldn’t forgive the person who caused my cousin’s death. That’s why I became a killer.” Finally, he looks back at Narancia. “What do you think of that?”
Narancia looks… thoughtful. “I don’t know if I would’ve done it,” he says, “but I don’t really know what it’s like. If I saw somebody who’d killed somebody I love, I’d probably beat them to a pulp. Even if it was an accident.”
“...You remind me of him, some,” Risotto says, without meaning to say it.
“Just because we suck at math?” Narancia asks.
“Because he was honest, and loved his family with his whole heart. ...Let’s get back to long division.”
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Risotto, Narancia
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word Count: 535
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentioned character death
Summary: Risotto teaches Narancia long division.
Notes: brain: hey Mini you should update this fic you haven't touched for a year and a half
While basic elementary level math skills are not the primary tools of an assassin, Risotto is at least intelligent enough to have retained them. They come in handy in other places, grocery shopping for example, and he has more than enough brainpower to remember them as well as more pertinent skills to killing people.
He can’t say he’s the greatest math tutor in the world, but what he can say with certainty is that he’s never stabbed someone with a fork for getting a question wrong.
Really, Fugo. Risotto knows he makes Narancia happy, and for that alone he’s willing to be his ‘wingman’ (“it’s funny because my Stand’s Aerosmith,” Narancia had explained, after Risotto failed to get the joke), but he does sometimes question how someone with as bad a temper as that ever expected to teach anything.
“Try again,” he says, as patient as ever. “You almost had it.”
Narancia squints at his piece of paper. “Okay, so… Two hundred forty-eight divided by four. First I look at the two and the four. Four’s bigger than two, so it doesn’t go into two… right?”
“Right,” Risotto says.
“So then I look at four and twenty-four.” When Risotto nods, Narancia scrunches up his face more. “And four goes into twenty-four… seven times! So it’s gotta be-”
“Six times,” Risotto corrects.
Narancia scowls and balls up the paper he’d been working on.
Risotto doesn’t bat an eyelash - Narancia does that a lot. “You were close. Do you want to take a break before trying again?”
“How are you so good at this?” Narancia asks. “I don’t get it.”
“Long division is hard for everyone at the beginning,” Risotto explains. “You shouldn’t feel bad over having trouble with it.”
“No, I mean - this stuff.” Narancia waves his hands vaguely, and when Risotto just stares blankly at him, asks, “How are you so good at teaching? You never get mad at me like Fugo does.”
“...Ah.” Risotto looks away. “I used to teach my cousin like this: he was only a few years younger than me. My aunt and uncle were always busy working to provide for him, so they didn’t have time to help him with his schoolwork.”
“Was he really bad at it, like me?” Narancia asks.
“At first. He was getting better at it, when...” Risotto hesitates, briefly. “When he died.”
“‘m sorry,” Narancia says, quiet.
Risotto swallows. He hasn’t told this story to many outside of his own squad. “It was a drunk driver. Even though he was punished by the law, I still couldn’t forgive the person who caused my cousin’s death. That’s why I became a killer.” Finally, he looks back at Narancia. “What do you think of that?”
Narancia looks… thoughtful. “I don’t know if I would’ve done it,” he says, “but I don’t really know what it’s like. If I saw somebody who’d killed somebody I love, I’d probably beat them to a pulp. Even if it was an accident.”
“...You remind me of him, some,” Risotto says, without meaning to say it.
“Just because we suck at math?” Narancia asks.
“Because he was honest, and loved his family with his whole heart. ...Let’s get back to long division.”