[Fugo sighs. In a way, he's relieved. Nothing has changed. There have been no more attacks; no more murderous doubles out to replace the people they came from. But in every other way, he's bitterly disappointed. Nothing has changed. Giorno is still dead. Trish is still asleep. There is ... nothing he can do about either of these things, except wait for them to come back.]

It's alright. You don't need to apologize. [He shrugs, lightly. He is a little puzzled that Bucciarati would come to check on him, but does not outwardly question it. He ... probably would want to do the same, if he wasn't so tired.] It's an odd hour to try and sleep. I was probably going to get up soon anyway.

Have you eaten?