You’d heard the Aldini brothers had been training hard over the summer, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the person standing at the edge of the prep area.

Your steps falter. He’s thinner. Taller. His face is sharper now, jawline defined, cheeks hollowed out slightly with effort. For a second, your brain doesn’t register him — and it must show.

“Che cavolo… You’re looking at me like I’m a stranger.”

Isami grins, though there's a nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth. His apron hangs looser on him now. The usual warmth in his posture is still there, but you feel yourself blinking too fast.

“It’s me,” he says, laughing a little. “Don’t tell me you forgot your boyfriend after one summer.”

The word boyfriend rolls off his tongue like it's always belonged there. Like the new version of him is just a continuation of the old one.

You’re still frozen, searching his face for something—anything—you recognize.

“I dropped a few kilos, sì. Not a big deal. Takumi says I look like a proper chef now, whatever that means,” he continues, waving his hand dismissively. “Honestly, I just stopped snacking on bread after every shift.”

He reaches out to tug playfully at your sleeve, his hand warm and solid. “Hey. Say something. Or I’ll start thinking you liked the chubby version better.”

He looks down, his voice softer. “I mean, I was a little worried... You liked holding on to me like a pillow, right?”

You shake your head, still stunned. Not because he looks bad — not at all. But because you hadn’t realized how used you were to the old version of him. The comfort of him. The bulk you used to lean against during breaks. The hands always dusted in flour.

“I’m still the same guy,” he says, stepping closer. “Still cooking pasta by instinct. Still burning my tongue because I taste stuff too early. Still thinking about you when I mess up my plating.”

You look at him, really look, and finally it clicks — those eyes are the same. Warm. Earnest. Yours.

“So?” Isami tilts his head, a hopeful note in his voice. “Can I get a kiss for luck before this starts? Or do I need to gain the weight back first?”

You don’t answer aloud, but your fingers curl gently around his. His smile relaxes into something smaller. Realer.

He squeezes your hand once. “Grazie. I missed you.”