Chapter Text
Giorno was quickly sent a work schedule and was added to a work groupchat soon after. He was scheduled for training and a first shift with Mista and someone named Narancia. Giorno was honestly a little glad that Abbacchio wasn’t scheduled to train him, as it would be hard to pay attention to learning the ropes when he was being stared down near constantly.
Bucciarati also sent Giorno a text explaining that he kept the shift times the same all year round for simplicity’s sake, but that he was excused to arrive a little late on days where the sun set after the start of his shift, that way he would never have to walk to work in the sun.
Luckily, it was fall and the sun was starting to set earlier and earlier in the day, so Giorno was perfectly able to come to his training shift on time. He arrived at the back door and knocked. Giorno heard a muffled crash and winced.
“ Fuck , hold on!” He heard Mista yell. After a moment the door opened and Mista smiled at him sheepishly.
“Hey!” They said. “Ignore— um— what’s going on there, Narancia’s a moron.” Giorno glanced over Mista’s shoulder to see some crates scattered on the ground like they’d been dropped. Luckily nothing seemed to be damaged.
Someone, who Giorno had to assume was Narancia, came out of the back room running a hand through their hair. The orange horns peeking out from their messy black hair immediately indicated that they were a demon. There was something spilled down the front of their black tank top and yellow skirt. Their eyes widened when they saw Giorno, and he waved.
“Oh, shit!” They said. “Hold on— I don’t usually— Fuck, this is a bad first impression.” Mista turned and snorted at their coworker’s ruined clothes.
“Need some help, ‘Rancia?” He asked teasingly. Narancia stuck their tongue out.
“Fuck off ,” they snapped. They turned to Giorno. “Don’t believe a word this dumbass said, he literally startled me on purpose to get me to drop the crates.” Mista gasped, putting a dramatic hand over his chest. Fishnet shirts seemed to be the only thing the mage owned, but they had traded their red jeans for a flowy navy skirt. Narancia rolled their eyes.
“I’m popping home to change clothes, I’ll be back before we open,” they told Mista. Mista shook their head in teasing disappointment.
“Leaving me and the rookie to pick up your boxes,” they sighed. Narancia disappeared with an exasperated huff and a burst of orange flame.
“Alright, I’ll just put these where they need to go and I’ll start your training,” Mista said, as he picked up all the crates in one go. Giorno’s eyes settled on Mista’s arms as they flexed in exertion. He hadn’t noticed how strong the human was last time he was here. He tore his eyes away from Mista and found a note sitting on the table next to him. There was a simple key sitting on the sheet of paper and curly handwriting read,
Giorno,
Key for the back door,
Don’t be afraid to let me know if you lose it
I can just get you another, not a big deal
-Bucciarati
He pocketed the key and the note just as Mista finished stacking the crates in a cabinet behind the counter.
“Get over here,” Mista called. Giorno joined him behind the counter and looked around at the various coffee making devices. Mista pulled his wand from where he had tucked it in the waistband of their skirt and waved it, pulling a large binder from a drawer.
“This has instructions for every menu item,” Mista explained. “It’s a pain in the ass to flip through, ‘cause we have so much shit on the menu. What also can get confusing is that a bunch of it is the same stuff but with small changes for different dietary restrictions and shit. So , I charmed the binder so that it’ll flip to the item that you say to it, so that should save you a little time. Obviously once you get used to it you’ll remember how to do stuff that people order a lot, but until then use the binder.”
Mista ran through the basics, like how to use the espresso machine and the steamer. After a little while Narancia reappeared in clean clothes. Narancia mostly worked on getting ready to reopen the shop for the night while Mista taught, occasionally interjecting with comments.
“I feel like that’s all that I can like— tell you,” Mista said. “It’ll be easier to learn while doing, ‘Rancia and I will help you out today.” They were about to reopen for nocturnal customers.
They worked through the first rush. For the first half, Giorno was only responsible for making drinks, but Mista had him switch to the register for the second half.
“Mista,” Giorno called after a particularly complicated order. “I’m not sure how to ring this up.” Giorno stiffened in surprise when Mista placed a hand on his waist, reaching over him to show him the correct input. He flushed, and was so distracted that he didn’t even see what Mista pressed.
“Sorry,” Giorno said. “Could you show that again?” Mista laughed and showed him the button presses again. Mista removed their hand from Giorno so he could breathe again, and he finished the order.
The rush passed, and Mista leaned up against the counter.
“What do we want today?” They asked, seemingly to nobody. “Pizza puff? Again?” Giorno glanced at Narancia to see what their reaction was, but they seemed unbothered by Mista. Giorno watched Mista suspiciously out of the corner of his eye as they pulled a pizza puff from the case and started tearing it into small pieces.
It was only because Giorno had been raised not to visibly react to surprise that he didn’t yell when Mista tipped up their hat and several mice streamed out from under it. They scampered to the plate where Mista had put the pizza puff bits and started eating them, squabbling over the larger pieces.
“Hey now, Number Five!” Mista snapped, grabbing one of the mice by the tail and lifting it from the plate. “Be polite!” They set the mouse back down. Giorno opened his mouth and closed it again, not knowing how to condense his confusion into a single question.
“Is that allowed?” Giorno settled on.
“Of course!” Mista replied. “These are my familiars. They like pepperoni.” Mista spoke as if that explained literally anything . Giorno decided to keep his mouth shut about pork not generally being present in mouse diets.
“Do they have names?” Giorno asked.
“This is Number One, Number Two, Number Three,” Mista listed, pointing at each mouse. He wasn’t counting in order, so they clearly knew which mouse was which. They all looked identical to Giorno. “Number Five, Number Six, and Number Seven. Be nice to Seven, she’s shy.”
“What happened to Number mmph—” Giorno was cut off with a start when Narancia’s hand flew to cover Giorno’s mouth.
“I’ll tell you later,” Narancia whispered into Giorno’s ear, before removing their hand.
“Most people are more careful about putting their hands that close to a vampire’s mouth,” Giorno pointed out. Narancia grinned toothily at him.
“What would happen if you bit ‘Rancia?” Mista wondered. “Would you get cursed? Or maybe you’d become like— a super vampire.”
“We could find out,” Giorno suggested, baring his teeth jokingly at Narancia.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Mista said. “I bet they’d taste like feet.”
“I taste wonderful , thank you!” Narancia protested. “And you can bite me anytime you want, baby. Just maybe wait until after work.” Narancia winked exaggeratedly and Mista started dramatically retching. Giorno laughed, but was drawn away from the conversation when a customer entered.
The shift went by quickly, and before Giorno knew it, it was time to shut down so they could clean to prepare for the daytime shift.
“I have a question,” Giorno said as he wiped down the steamer. “Are there ever problems when unwares come in here?” Unawares was a term referring to the majority of the human population, who were unaware that magic and nonhuman people even existed.
“Nah, humans are stupid,” Narancia replied casually.
“Hey!” Mista protested. “Asshole.”
“You’re not an exception, dickhead,” Narancia insisted. They yelped and vanished, reappearing behind Giorno, when the mop they were using animated itself and began trying to swat at the demon. Narancia clutched at Giorno’s arms, their small frame completely hidden behind him. Giorno reached out and grasped the mop easily, holding it at arm’s length so that it couldn't reach him. Giorno raised an eyebrow at Mista, who rolled his eyes and flicked his wand to dispel the animation.
“For real, though,” Mista continued. “We don’t have to do anything to hide magic. We’ve had some unawares come in here a couple times when I’ve been working, and I swear to god they just think it's like— a bit.”
“Yeah, they think it’s a gimmick or a theme,” Narancia added. “All they really notice is the menus, and whenever a human orders something off the non-human menu we make a little mocktail version of it for ‘em.”
“Most unawares would probably think you’re wearing fake fangs for the aesthetic,” Mista added. Giorno cringed at the idea. He’d met a couple human vampire fanatics and the idea of being associated with people like that was a terrifying thought. Mista saw his expression and laughed.
“Abbacchio’s got it the worst,” they said. “One time I was working a shift with her and this dweeb came in and mistook her for a furry.” Narancia burst out laughing.
“Not that I have anything against furries!” Mista quickly clarified, as if they were concerned Giorno might have been offended. He was not. “But this dude apparently was real into the— erm— less PG side of the community and did not understand what conversations you should have with baristas. You should have seen Leo’s expression, dude.” Narancia was doubled over at this point. Giorno kicked him gently in the shins to encourage him to continue mopping.
“Ah, shit,” Narancia said suddenly. “Hey, Mis, it’s like 15 ‘til sunrise. Can you wrap up so Giorno can get home?” Mista narrowed their eyes at Narancia.
“Sure,” he said slowly. “But why does that mean you need to leave, too?” Narancia smiled sweetly at the mage.
“Gotta make sure our vampire gets home safely,” Narancia said. “What if something happens and he can’t get home before sunrise?”
“I can walk home on my—” Giorno started, but stopped when Narancia gave him a look. Mista rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, whatever,” they decided. They turned to Giorno, sincerity returning to their expression. “Get home safe, Gio. I’ll let Bucciarati know you did a great job.” Giorno waved goodbye and exited out the back door with Narancia.
“You don’t have to walk me back—” Giorno started.
“Where do you live?” Narancia asked. They noticed Giorno’s sharp look and added, “Just like— what direction. Just curious, that’s all.”
“Oh, I live near campus,” Giorno said. Narancia nodded.
“Cool, we live in the same direction then,” they said.
“Can’t you teleport anyway?” Giorno asked.
“Yeah,” Narancia said, but made no effort to say any more. “I wanted to make sure I could explain Mista’s whole number four situation.”
“Oh,” Giorno said. “There’s a whole situation.” Narancia snorted.
“It’s nothing like— scary,” they reassured him. “He’s just… superstitious in a very specific way. They think the number four is super bad luck.”
“Is it superstition or an actual magic thing?” Giorno asked, not knowing a ton about magic but knowing that curses were a thing that existed in the world. Narancia snorted again.
“Fuck if I know,” they admitted. “All I know is that if there’s four of anything left, or if an order rings up with the number four in it, or if a customer orders four items, or like— basically anything in groups of fours Mista gets all upset. They like— cursed out a customer one time because they insisted on ordering four cakepops.” Narancia laughed a little at the memory.
“How did they not get fired ?” Giorno asked. Narancia laughed again.
“Bucciarati thought it was funny,” Narancia said. “And the customer was a dick.”
“Huh,” Giorno said simply.
“But yeah, thought I’d warn ya,” Narancia said. “Make sure not to like— bring up the number four around him. I didn’t take him seriously and he vanished my teeth for like— a month. I had to buy dentures !” Giorno barked out a laugh.
“Demons need dentures?” He asked.
“ Not usually! ” Narancia yelled.
“Thanks for the warning, PeePaw,” Giorno teased.
“No problem, grandson.” Narancia replied, before disappearing in a puff of flame.