[Fugo doesn't play piano for others. That's what he promised himself, when he made the decision to keep playing in Ryslig: I'm not going to play to perform. I'm only going to play for myself. He's gotten a little less secretive about it, a little more open to sharing the music he plays with more people than Giorno and Trish-- but it's still a fraught enough subject that, for most people, Fugo wouldn't ask them to join him.]

I've been at it for a while, so I need to stretch. But I'll start again soon. [He tips his head towards a nearby chair, that's a bit out of place with the rest of the floor's furniture. Giorno is the one who originally dragged it over, but Trish is the one who draped a pink throw blanket over the back.] You can sit down, if you like. I'm not going anywhere.