Fugo woke up in his room and was about to get dressed when he saw a note on the floor near the door. It was from Giorno, saying that his dad found a house nearby. It had the address on it, too. Great, he thought, we can visit each other without driving. The note also said he wasn't here and he'd be helping unpack all day.
Okay, so Giorno wasn't going to be here. Fugo can survive. Good thing he's friends with Narancia. He texted him and waited for a reply. Usually, Narancia replied right away, but he was taking his sweet time. Well, he needed to change his clothes. However, he received nothing from his best friend after changing.
Something probably occupied Narancia's attention. For now, he got on his computer, having YouTube and Tumblr open on two different tabs. Then his phone rang, but the caller was Trish. What did she want now?
"Yes?" Fugo answered.
"Hey, are we that pink-haired guy?" Trish asked. "You know, Doppio?"
It all came back to him now. "Oh yeah. Unfortunately, Giorno isn't able to help. He moved into one of the houses here."
"Oh, well, at least Mista's replying to our text now."
Fugo had managed to see Mista's texts but was too tired to read them. He checked it now, and Mista left apologies for being unresponsive.
"So, about this search, why did you call me to help find—what's his name—Doppio?" he asked.
"Well, Mista said you're the smartest person. He'd figure you'd track him down. Go on, Google him."
Fugo rolled his eyes and did as she commanded. "Ugh, I keep getting places of coffee shops. Do we have any more details about this guy? I need to know if Doppio is his first or last name. Also, the exact city he resides in would be nice."
"How am I supposed to know that?"
"This is your problem."
He heard her sigh. "Okay, then let's ask Mista. He knows Prosciutto, who knows Risotto, who knows Doppio."
"Alright, then call him."
"Ugh, you're supposed to be the information gatherer. Fine, well, Narancia's angry with you."
"Uh-huh, sure."
Trish sighed. "And I'm angry too. But, unlike Narancia, I'm angry with both you and Giorno. You guys are rich enough to go to Disneyland and should've invited us."
"Why are you mad at us? We can't just ask for a bunch of money from our parents!"
"You're right! I hate your parents. Yeah, and even Giorno's dad!"
"Hold on. Can we get back on topic? If that's true, why would Narancia be mad at me?"
"I'll tell you if you give me the information I need."
"Ugh, fine! I'll call Mista." Fugo hung up on Trish and called Mista. "Hey, are you there, Mista? I need you to help me out with something."
"Oh, Fugo. It's you," Mista said, sounding depressed. "Sorry for not answering your calls and texts. I made everyone worry, didn't I?"
"Yeah." Formaggio was right. Prosciutto must've broken up with him. He wasn't sure how to approach this and was nervous. "Could you tell me about any of Prosciutto's friends?"
"Oh, sure." Mista sighed. "Formaggio seems alright. He's in a relationship with Illuso, a stuck-up prick. Pesci is Prosciutto's ugly little friend. He creeps me out. Melone's hot, but I think Ghiaccio, some guy who reminds me of you, is dating him. Then there's Prosciutto's boyfriend, Risotto. Not going to lie, he's hot as fuck. I guess I shouldn't be so upset he broke up with me. I would, too. I can't tell who's hotter, him or Giorno's dad."
Fugo almost barfed. "Um, could you tell me more about Risotto?"
"Did you and Giorno get into a fight or something? Risotto is a little too old for you."
"What? No! Oh my god! Just tell me about Doppio, the guy he was dating!"
"Sheesh, don't get your panties twisted! I met up with Doppio—oh, that's his last name, by the way—and he tried to get with me. Before I could agree, I asked him for his age, and he said he was 33. Dude looked like he had just turned 18! What the hell kind of anti-aging cream does he use? It's probably expensive. I turned him down. He seems high-end."
"What's his first name?" Fugo sounded impatient.
"Vinegar. Yeah, strange, I know. Hey, don't you find it's weird how we're named after food?"
Fugo ignored his question and searched Doppio, finding zero results. He used other search engines, and still nothing. "Does Doppio live in Italy?"
"Yeah, I assume somewhere in Sardinia. He sounds like he's from there. Why?"
"Ah, it's nothing. Where is Doppio usually? Do you have his contact information?"
"Sorry, but I don't know where you can find him, and he didn't give me his contact info."
"That's fine. Later." Fugo sighed and hung up on Mista. He dialed Trish, and she answered. "I need to confirm something. Your mother met your dad in Sardinia, right?"
"Yes, Costa Smeralda, to be exact," she answered. "Did you find him?"
"Not exactly. I can't find where he lives. His name is Vinegar Doppio, and he's 33. Mista assumed he lived in Sardinia. That's it. That's all the information I have."
"Thanks." Trish sighed. "I don't know what to do. How will I find him?"
"I would've told you if I knew that. You're going to do this by yourself."
"Except I'm not going to do this by myself. Besides, Narancia wants to help, and I think you guys need to fix what's going on between you two. This might be a great way, and Narancia isn't smart. He'll need all the help he can get. Let's—"
"Now, hold on!" an angered Fugo interrupted. "Narancia may be bad at math, but that does not mean he's a burden to the search!"
"You're right. I'm sorry. Let's meet at the beach. It's not too hot to go on a search."
Everyone except for Giorno was at the beach. Narancia didn't seem too happy with Fugo and tried to wedge Mista between them.
"Alright, everyone," Trish started, "Doppio isn't here, so we'll search all of Naples for hints or clues. Now, we'll split the group into two. I'll be with Sheila while you boys do whatever you do."
"I may not be the smartest," Narancia said. "But I won't be an issue. Do I need Fugo with me?"
Before Trish could answer, Fugo glared at him and interrupted. "If there's something you want to say, say it."
"We're going to go now," Trish said, taking Sheila by the hand and running away."
"Wait!" Mista was about to go after them but stopped, looking at his two friends arguing. "Hey, can we work together?"
"Did you enjoy the beach without us, Fugo?" Narancia questioned.
"I wished you joined us, but you just had to play Just Dance for hours!" yelled Fugo.
"You would've joined us if you weren't Giorno's little bitch!"
"Excuse me?"
"You've been spending so much time with Giorno that you've ignored us! Right, Mista?"
"Do I have to answer that? Could we please find Trish's dad?" Mista avoided.
"Ugh! Whatever. I supposed we should head to Risotto's house." Narancia took out his phone and typed away. Fugo caught a glimpse of Risotto's address in the Google results.
"How'd you know how to search for people's addresses?" Fugo asked.
"My Twitch chat told me one time. When you were off having fun at Disneyland without us, Formaggio doxxed me."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, whatever. I know where Risotto lives. Hmm, this neighborhood isn't so friendly. Luckily, I know friends who live there."
"Oh, those questionable friends who abandoned you?"
"Shut up!" Narancia threw a punch at him, but Mista gripped his arm before it made contact with Fugo's face.
"Stop, guys!" Mista separated them. "We're making a scene here. You're going to get the cops on us. Cool it! If we're lucky, Abbacchio might show up. Do you guys want to be lectured by him?"
"No," the boys answered.
Narancia sighed. "Let's just get this over with. Don't talk to anyone in this neighborhood. I hope Trish and Sheila don't follow us. I heard a few horror stories. You guys watch the news, right? Sometimes, the newscaster would talk about how bad it's over there."
"I hardly watch the news," Mista said, "but I got it. I brought a gun with me, just in case. Prosciutto gifted me his revolver." He let them have a peek at it before putting it away.
"Mista, I never asked if you're alright after the breakup. I'm sorry. Are you broken up with him?"
"I'm a little sad, but I'll be fine." Then he blushed. "Besides, I want to look at Risotto again, hehe!"
"The neighborhood isn't far. That must be why Risotto took Doppio here." Narancia grinned at Fugo. "Wow, you took Giorno near a dangerous neighborhood and didn't know? That's not like you."
Fugo clenched his fists. "Enough! Let's go."
The walk wasn't far. Fugo had never noticed the tall, grungy apartments because cleaner and well-maintained buildings hid them. New graffiti overlapped with the faded and ugly ones. Some were almost washed away. As for the people, unsavory people watched the boys. Fugo felt like someone was watching them and got closer to Narancia, but the black-haired boy coldly shoved him away.
"Dude, hug Mista. He's the one with the gun," Narancia whispered.
"Don't worry, Fugo. We're almost there," Mista said.
He wanted to look back to see if they were following, but Mista checked for him.
"Hey, you alright?" he whispered to him.
"Yeah, I think I'm just paranoid," Fugo answered, continuing to whisper.
"Can't blame you. You may be loaded, but you dress badly."
"Now that I think about it, I think I'm safe. You guys spend your allowance on expensive clothing."
"Seriously? Shit, no wonder why I felt eyes on me!" Mista panicked, no longer whispering.
"Mista, calm down!" Narancia ordered. He pulled out his pocket knife. "Where's Risotto's apartment number? If you guys are going to be pussies about this, I'm going by myself."
"And leave you by yourself?" Fugo said. "No."
"Quit pretending you care about me."
"Shut up!" Mista demanded. "We're near his home. Quiet!"
They stopped near a door. Fugo noticed signs of a break-in and some dried blood on the door frame. He moved the welcome mat, which covered more blood.
"I'm scared," Fugo admitted.
Risotto opened the door. He was tall and looked unamused. It seemed his presence intimated Narancia, seeing as he dropped his knife and bumped into Fugo.
"Mista?" Risotto spoke, and the two boys noticed their friend blushing furiously. "Who are these two?"
"H-hi! Um, do you know where Doppio is?" Mista asked.
"He went to meet a blond guy he met this morning. I don't know who. And before you ask Mista, it's not Prosciutto. He's with me."
"He's here? Um, do you guys want company?"
"Mista!" The two boys jabbed his stomach.
"Ouch! Okay, do you know this blond guy?"
"No," Risotto answered. "But I've seen him. He's the toughest guy I've ever seen. And before you go, I think that guy might be a tourist."
Before he could close the door, Mista put his foot in the doorway. "Do you have his number, Twitter, anything?"
"Doppio's tough to contact. He'll contact you when he wants to. Can you leave?"
Mista unlocked the door and left the neighborhood with his friends.
"So, all we have is a mysterious blond guy," Narancia said.
"And he's buff," Mista added.
"Don't tell me who I think it is," Fugo said. He got his phone out and called Giorno. "Hey, GioGio, what's your dad doing currently?"
"I'm not sure," Giorno answered. "I finished unpacking, but he wasn't helping me. Instead, he enlisted an army of his friends to help. It's ridiculous! Also, I have no idea where my mother is. Should I text him?"
"Yes."
"Okay, hold on. I just texted him. I'm waiting for a reply. Is there a reason why you need him?"
"Remember that pink-haired guy we saw at the beach? We might think he's Trish's dad and might be with your dad."
"Her dad with my dad? What do you mean?"
"Dating. They're together. That's what Risotto's saying."
"No, that can't be. My dad is with my mother. They're out there somewhere doing something." Fugo heard the doorbell ring through the phone. "Hold on. I think my dad is home. Hey, Dad, your friends— Oh no. Um, where's Mother? You broke up with her? Is that why you brought home this guy?" It sounded like Giorno was moving. "Hey, babe, you need to get over here."
"Thanks. I love you!" he said before hanging up. "Ugh, now I need to call Trish."
"Hey, I think I'll head home," Narancia said. Fugo knew him well enough to hear that sad tone in his voice.
"Hey, Narancia, I'm sorry for fighting with you."
He sighed. "I just want to be alone right now."
Fugo looked at Mista, hoping he'd know what's up. He didn't. They let Narancia walk away.
The four of them arrived at Giorno's house around 1 PM. Fugo rang the doorbell. Hopefully, Giorno heard the door. It sounded like he was having a party.
"Do you think Giorno's got food?" Mista asked. "We haven't eaten lunch."
"Sorry, I guess I was so caught up trying to search for my dad," Trish apologized. "Hmm, don't you think it's strange how Giorno's dad had vacationed here for a week and already has a house here? Can he do that, Fugo?"
"Trust me. He can," Fugo replied. Someone like Dio, who lived for a long time, must have friends in high places. He wondered what he could get away with.
Giorno opened the door. "Oh, guys, you're here."
"You just moved in," Trish said. "How have you finished unpacking?"
"Well, my dad called his friends here. And no, they're not from Japan. They're from Egypt and the other parts of Europe. I think that Hol Horse guy is from America. I don't know. He has guns and kind of dresses like a cowboy, but enough about them. I saw that pink-haired guy with my dad. Follow me. Close the door."
Trish got inside first. Fugo closed the door once everyone was in.
"Dude, Narancia's room looks nicer than this," Mista commented, looking at the beer bottles on the floor. "Are you sure you've finished unpacking?"
"It wasn't like this," Giorno explained while walking to the room where Dio held the party. "It got rowdy so fast. But Trish, how do you know if Doppio is your dad?"
"Well, I had this feeling at the beach. Do you want to know what's funny? Formaggio thought Doppio was my brother. And I'm getting that feeling again. I may not trust Formaggio, but I do trust my gut."
"Hey, Trish," Sheila said. "Formaggio said Doppio is with Giorno's dad—Dio, right? Um, does that mean Giorno's kind of like a brother?"
Mista laughed. "Hehe, Giorno and Trish are step-siblings! Why do I find that strange?"
"Wouldn't my dad have to marry Dio for him to be my stepbrother?" Trish asked, looking at Fugo.
"I'm exhausted to answer this. We've had a long day and gone without lunch," Fugo replied.
"My dad ordered pizza," Giorno said. "It'll be here soon."
They reached the door. Giorno opened it, and once he did, everyone in the room looked at them. They were all adults except for one. As for Dio and Doppio, the pink-haired man sat on his lap, making out with the blond, who squeezed him tightly. They stopped, realizing the silence filling the room, and turned to face them.
"Aw, I thought the pizza was here," Doppio whined.
"Shh." Dio planted his finger on Doppio's tender lips. "That's just my son and his friends." He looked at them. "Giorno, I said this party was for grown-ups only."
They eyed the only teenager in the party. The teen had a beer bottle in his hand.
"Except him. He's an exception. He was basically a baby, haha!"
"Um," Trish spoke up, making eye contact with Doppio. She struggled to get the words out, but there were too many people. They all looked at her with piercing stares. "Never mind," she said before leaving.
"Was she talking to me?" Doppio asked.
The doorbell rang.
"Giorno, make sure the girl doesn't get the pizza. I don't want her to eat it," Dio said.
"She hates pizza," Sheila informed.
"Giorno, get the pizza. I'll take care of Trish," Fugo said.
Fugo rushed to Trish, finding her in a corner, curled up in a ball and trembling. "Are you alright?"
She jumped and turned around. "Oh my gosh! It's you! Sorry, you surprised me. Gees, there are so many adults in there. They don't need to hear my business, and seeing Dio make out with my dad was weird."
"Yeah, it's weird. Maybe you should confront him next time."
"How will we even know if there will be a next time? It seems impossible to contact him."
"You're right, and I don't think we can ask Dio. He doesn't like you, it seems."
The two heard Sheila's footsteps. "Sorry, I had a few words with Doppio. He says he finds it silly that you're his kid, but once I showed him a photo of your mother, he had a headache and went to the bathroom. I'd follow him, but Dio yelled at me. What do we do?"
Trish sighed. "Let's just go home. Turns out this was just a waste of time. Oh, and Fugo, before we go, are we streaming Minecraft tomorrow?"
"Yeah, but I feel Narancia is not on board," Fugo answered. "He's been hostile towards me."
Giorno held boxes of pizza stacked onto each other with a salad bowl on top and walked across the halls. "You guys hungry? We can't eat with the adults, but we can head to the dining room."
"Oh! A salad? Who ordered that?" Trish asked.
"Mariah did, but I don't think she'll mind if it disappeared." He smiled, handing her the bowl.
"Ah, you're the best!"
"Hey, where's Mista?" Fugo realized he disappeared again. "Don't tell me he's in the party room."
Sheila facepalmed. "He has to be. He's 18, isn't he? Giorno, get him out of there so we can eat with him."