"Dio just what am I not seeing?!"

Takumi felt a very strong urge to throw the closest possible thing at the closest possible surface. Unfortunately for him, after the eighteenth innocent vase he'd smashed (a beautiful powder blue vase they'd gotten as a gift from Shun), his dear fratellino had cleared his study of all things that would give him the satisfaction once he'd sent it airborne and flying. Perhaps that was for the best, at least his little brother was thinking of him and making it safer for him to be alone in his study.

At the moment though, it did not make him feel better. In fact, it made him feel worse. Anger, frustration, despair just kept mixing inside of him like flavors trapped under crusts. If one more thing went wrong tonight he would without a doubt snap and just absolutely lose it.

Deep blue eyes followed the lines of red threads stretched from point A to point B in a meaningless pattern. Items were stolen but returned within a week. All valuable gemstones, jewelry, heirlooms, and artifacts were in the same condition they had been in when they were taken. No damages, no alterations, and they were still a hundred percent genuine. How he kept getting inside the house nobody could say. But so far, there were no casualties, and everything came back.

It was more or less an elaborate prank. Hence the police not really giving it much attention. Takumi felt like pulling on his hair. There was just no apparent rhyme or reason to the sudden influx of robberies. What was the point when everything was given right back? And why their family?

"What is your problem Giallo? What exactly are you aiming for?"

A knock on his study door broke his concentration. The smell of food urged him to turn towards the doorway.

"Fratello you missed dinner." Isami frowned at him, one hand on his hip and the other balancing a tray of heavenly dishes.

Takumi winced and offered his twin an apologetic nod. Missing dinner, or any meal for that matter, was not at all done in the Aldini household. It didn't matter that they were in England and not Italia. Food was not slaved over just to be ignored. He sighed quite sadly when the tray was placed on his desk in front of him.

It was a hearty Italian meal with an antipasto, pasta, soup, salad, fresh bread and wine. There was a time where Takumi would have personally helped in making this set and those days just seemed so far away now.

"Grazie fratellino." Takumi inhaled deeply and savored the scents that wafted towards him.

"Prego." Isami nodded and he waited. When his brother started taking small bites of his dinner, his eyes turned concerned it not a little cold. "Fratello, you haven't been eating well at all this week. Have you been making progress at least?"

Takumi swallowed what was in his mouth and click his tongue. He would not answer any more than that.

Isami's eyes narrowed slightly. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from Takumi. His eyes moved to study the red threads currently draped around the study. "Do you even know his name?"

"I call him Giollo."

"Is he blond?" Isami asked.

"Not his hair." Takumi polished off his plate. It wasn't like there was much. Either that or he was a lot hungrier than he thought. He drank his wine and let it sit on his tongue then clarified for his brother, "His eyes are yellow."

"His eyes..." Isami echoed. "You know the color of his eyes? He's gotten that close to you and you let him?"

A slight blush colored Takumi's cheeks and the silence in the study stretched on.

Isami's stare turned cold, a rare occurrence. "Fratello."

"It was one time, okay!" Takumi slammed his hands down on the table. He did not like being treated like a kid. He was the older twin here, thank you very much and he was the one with a personal vendetta to boot. "Besides, he won't hurt me."

"You sound so sure." Isami grumbled, though he was happy his brother was still easy to rile up. He took in a deep breath and waited for Takumi to calm down. Then he asked, "Why are you so invested in him? Did you not get your necklace back?"

Out of instinct, Takumi's hand reached out for the hanging pendant underneath his shit. He felt his heart calm down at the touch of cold metal.

"Si, I did." Takumi's eyes narrowed. "But fratellino whoever dared to steal this must pay the price. It doesn't matter that he returned it. I'll make him pay, for the crime and other things."

Isami noticed the flush creeping his brother's face and neck but said nothing. "There really is no stopping you is there? Dio just... just take care of yourself."

Takumi nodded and finished off his wine. "Grazie. Bring me a bottle of Chianti will you?"

"No way fratello." Isami chuckled as he cleared up the tray. "We both know you can't hold your liquor."

Takumi's lips pursed stubbornly. "I'm Italian Isami, I can take two glasses of wine."

"No you can't."

"Yes I can."

"No you can't."

"Si, I can."

"No, fratello you can't."

"Will you just get me the bottle?!"

He watched Blondie as he poured over his many papers and threads. He was so adorable with that frustrated look on his face. His lips were pursed and his eyes were narrowed, a lock of that blond hair falling over them. Was it annoying him? It made him look a hundred times more adorable. Al disheveled and frazzled. Not that prim and perfect shell of a person he'd put out when facing customers.

But what was bothering him? The answer? He was looking for an answer, yes. And it was staring him right in the face.

He smiled in delight when Blondie found it. The clue, yes that piece of paper. He'd left a message for Blondie so he could find him faster and he could get what he wanted faster. Typewritten of course, everything had to remain anonymous. For him now, he had only one thing in mind worthy of his attention. And to think he'd already once had it in his grasp.

Tsk. He'd get it back.

Soon.

Yukihira glanced around himself then pinched his arm just to make sure he was still in the real world. The kitchen was the epitome of kitchens and to think that he was in a house and not an actual restaurant. The last time he'd been shocked by a kitchen's vastness had been when he'd stopped by Shinomya-senpai's restaurant and everything had just sang to him like a lullaby. Good food came from any good kitchen, but a chef worked his hundred percent when he had everything he needed; utensils, ingredients, space, and tranquility.

Of course, Yukihira's adept at working without that last one. His family ran a diner, not an up-class restaurant. And when you had twenty-or-so people to feed in thirty minutes silence was an abnormality.

The door to the kitchen opened and in stepped someone who was probably his boss.

"Buono sera." He smiled, his teeth sharp and extended a hand. "My name's Isami Aldini and I'll be conducting this interview."

Yukihira squared his shoulders and shook Isami's hand. "Yukihira Soma. I was expecting a cooking demonstration."

"Yes there's that too." Isami nodded. "My family is half-Italian. We like our meals that way, but we honestly eat anything. Well, of course not just anything. You understand."

"We?" Yukihira echoed because he somewhat did understand.

"My brother and I." Isami added as he began pulling out ingredients for what could only be a pasta dish. Basic. "I'm an owner-chef who's based in Italia. I plan on leaving soon to check on my restaurant. Because of recent events here in England, I don't want to leave my fratello alone. He's incredibly easy to scare and he often needs someone to watch over him and keep him in check. Who knows what he'll do with no one to remind him about food or sleep."

Yukihira's eyebrows pulled together. "So you need someone who's a dietary specialist and a nanny rolled in one?"

"I suppose." Isami hummed as he prepped utensils. He turned to Yukihira and pointed at a door on the left of the room. "Go grab some flour for me. We'll make pasta al fresca."

Yukihira did as asked and the door revealed a huge pantry that put his own to shame. A twinge of envy filled him, but it came with determination and inspiration. Isami could only be older than him by a year if they weren't the same age. He'd have to work really hard if he wanted to catch up to him, and he would as soon as he got everything settled and squared.

When he came back out, Isami was chopping vegetables. The ravenhead glanced up at him. "Do you know how to make pasta?"

"Course." Yukihira grinned and set out to making the dough. As he worked he talked, because the atmosphere was light and airy. Comfortable. "This isn't your usual food-demo is it?"

"Oh?" Isami clicked his tongue. "I do this with all of my applicants. To me, it doesn't matter if you're a good chef if you can't work with other people. Some dishes need more than one kind of preparation. If you have to prep six times for one plate then you're doomed to get an unhappy customer. But if you had someone helping you out then you'll be okay."

Yukihira smiled as he continued to knead the slab of dough on top of the wooden table. "You sound like you speak from experience."

"Yes, my fratello and I cook together often." Isami smiled.

"Your, er- brother, how old is he?"

"Hmm? I'm the younger twin."

Yukihira dropped the dough and blinked at Isami. "You're... you're twins?"

"Si." Isami paused from where he was boiling tomatoes. "Why is that such a surprise?"

"Well..." Yukihira thought over what he'd learned so far. When Isami had described his brother as someone who needed a nanny. "I thought you were older at least."

"No," Isami chuckled. "He's older. And he makes sure everyone knows it."

Yukihira watched Isami's expression. His face was calm, his shoulders loose in a way that showed extreme comfort. He obviously cared deeply for his brother. "Must be interesting living with him then?"

"It's never dull." Isami grinned. "Although... it's been a lot quieter these days. He's always holed up in his room now."

"Did something happen?" Yukihira flattened the dough with a pin.

Isami sighed. "Well, yes."

Yukihira sprinkled flour over the dough and kneaded it some more. His arms were starting to get sore but good food was a good enough reward. Isami approved his decision and continued.

"Two weeks ago, someone broke into the house. I wasn't home at the time, but Takumi was." Isami crossed his arms, a frown etching its way to his lips. "He was sleeping after a thirteen hour shift at a friend's restaurant. It's peak season so Ikumi needs all the help she can get."

Yukihira nodded in response.

"So, since I wasn't here I don't know what happened." Isami's eyes narrowed some more. "But Takumi told me they stole his Mezzaluna."

"Mezzaluna." Yukihira blinked. "That's a knife right?"

"Si." Isami smiled, albeit tiredly. An odd expression. "But it's also his necklace. It's made of white gold, nothing flashy but very important. Our parents had it made for us before they separated. As it's a mezzaluna, he has one half and I have the other. Together they make a perfect whole."

Yukihira looked at the pendant Isami had pulled out from under his shirt. It was a simple thing, but beautiful, and obviously worth a hundred memories. He pulled out a knife to cut the dough into strips. "So he's shaken from that huh?"

"Si, he is. But what's gotten him worked up is that it was returned the day after it was stolen." Isami checked on the sauce he was making. "Same for the jeweled box in his room, a portrait of our family when we were still kids, studded cuff-links. Little things. They get taken then returned without either of us knowing any better."

Yukihira thinned his slices some more. "Doesn't that mean that you need a bodyguard or something?"

"He's too prideful for that." Isami sighed as if he'd already had that argument. "Anyways, he's been trying to figure out the thief's intentions. I'd call it obsessive but he'd hit me for that."

"I don't think pride's an issue here." Yukihira countered. "If you think you're in danger then you should move or something."

"Or something." Isami echoed. "I don't know why I think this but Takumi might know the thief."

Yukihira blinked, he'd done that too many times that night. "He knows him?"

"I think so." Isami nodded. "My brother is hiding something from me. Earlier this evening he said something about Giallo, his nickname for him, not hurting him. He sounded so sure."

Yukihira digested what he'd just learned. "Something's not right then."

"Yes." Isami turned the stove off. "And that's why I thought to go back to Italia. This thief of ours doesn't come when I'm here. He only comes when Takumi's alone. If I want to get this over with then I have to give Takumi space. Something tells me my brother'll be just fine."

"How do you know?" Yukihira prepped a pot of boiling water.

Isami smiled at him as he stirred wine into his red sauce. "Call it a twin's intuition."

Yukihira chuckled but still felt slightly uneasy.

Isami shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, he won't be completely alone. You'll be here."

"Right." Yukihira agreed easily. He blinked. Again. "Wait-."

"Hmm? Oh yeah, yes you get the job." Isami glanced at him. "Water's boiling. You should dunk the pasta in now."

AN: Bear with me! I'm still practicing with the characters and their personalities. I just got into the fandom yesterday. And as expected, I fell for the blond one. There aren't enough fics of him ishhhh. My sembreak started yesterday so I have the time to write this out now. :D

So far, writing Isami has been the most fun. Probably because he strikes me as really talkative when he wants to be. He's not always quiet- especially when Takumi isn't around. It's just that when Takumi is around he lets his brother do most of the talking. I could probably write an essay over how I view their personalities but I'll just try to incorporate them into the story.

Thoughts? Think this has potential? :D

Nique