Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sawada Tsunayoshi was an enigma to the students of Tōtsuki Culinary Academy.

Yukihira Sōma was already one student too many they couldn’t handle. Now this harmless-looking brunet somehow managed to get in before the first spring semester, a rarity in itself. His speech, especially, was something else when he took the podium. With a blank face, he stood there, gazing out into the sea of students, before putting on a beautiful smile. “Thank you for accepting me to this wonderful institution; however, I’m only here because I lost a stupid bet that I should’ve never taken in the first place, so lesson learned. Don’t feel threatened by the way. I’m not here to take anything from you lovely people. Just don’t bother me and everything will be great, ‘kay? Beautiful school by the way. Peace.”

The crowd sat there in stunned silence while Tsuna sauntered off the stage. Even Nakiri Saenzaemon coughed lightly in his fist to stifle a chuckle. Finally, the students came back to life, shouting angry obscenities at Tsuna’s back.

When Sōma heard about the snarky new freshman, he couldn’t help but laugh.

A few weeks passed and true to his word, Tsuna was the most dispassionate student the school had ever seen. He’d sit back during class and barely participate to receive a grade. Even if he did, he’d receive E grades like it was nobody’s business. The strangest thing was that he hadn’t been expelled yet. In fact, no one had ever seen him get any expulsion notices, which just baffled them even more.

That was fine, less competition on the students’ part, but that was also the problem. They were raised to compete from a young age; cooking was their passion, their life. To see such a lack of work ethic and a detached attitude was a damn insult to everything they worked for. 

Tsuna was not fit to be a student in Tōtsuki Culinary Academy nor should he ever be a chef (if he even was in the first place).

A few students had asked Erina how he even managed to pass her test in the first place, but all they got was, “T—That’s none of your business! Stop wasting your energy on trivial things!”

This only confused them even more. Still, they persisted.

Sōma was the only person Tsuna seemed to hang out with and probably the only one with any information on the brunet, but even he rarely gave anything up. Whenever a classmate asked, he’d just grin. “Don’t ask me. Why don’t you actually talk to the guy? He can make some mean gyōza if you ask nicely.”

Sadly, no one took up on that advice because something else more noteworthy came up: the Arcobaleno were coming to visit.

They were legendary alumni from the 89^th Tōtsuki generation and considered some of the best chefs in the world. With multiple restaurants at their beck and call, the Arcobaleno were highly sought out for their skills and palate, bringing even more fame to Tōtsuki Culinary Academy. There were ten of them in total, which perfectly allotted the seats of the Elite Ten Council at the time of their reign.

So when word spread that they were coming in a week’s time, everyone was ecstatic. A small, impromptu festival suddenly came into the works with every student determined to catch their beloved idols’ attention.

Gokudera woke up way earlier than expected but he was too excited to care. The Arcobaleno were coming today, in person! It was basically every young chef’s dream to meet them, and it was actually happening. Gokudera would not let this opportunity go to waste.

He was mostly excited to meet Reborn, whom his sister had a major crush on, but who didn’t? The man was devilishly handsome and his skills were godly to boot when it came to Italian cuisine, Gokudera’s own specialty. Well, not that Gokudera had a crush on him or anything—No, he practically worshipped the ground his idol walked on. Plus, it’d be great to rub it in Bianchi’s face that he was going to meet her crush before she ever would. Too bad she just graduated.

After washing up and changing into his uniform, Gokudera headed down to the Polar Star Kitchen, thinking about what to make for breakfast. The dorm was quiet and the hallways were empty. Well, it was five in the morning. The windows were open, letting in faint sunlight onto the red carpet. Gokudera didn’t mind mornings; in fact, he was a morning person. He found it refreshing to watch the sun rise, signaling another fresh day.

He abruptly stopped in his step. A warm, delicious scent wafted in from the kitchen. It smelled like miso soup, really, really good miso soup. Before Gokudera knew it, his stomach grumbled. Blushing, he wondered who was cooking at this hour. When he entered the kitchen, his jaw almost dropped. Tsunayoshi, dressed in a large white T-shirt and shorts, was cooking at the stove while talking on the phone, which rested in-between his cheek and shoulder.

“—never sleeping with you again, asshole,” Tsunayoshi said, stirring another pot. “I have enough E’s to be expelled four times now and, where am I? I’m still here.”

Gokudera silently watched the brunet move around the kitchen. He obviously knew what he was doing, which was just baffling since nearly everyone in the school thought he couldn’t cook to save his life. Well, no one actually ever saw him cook so they just assumed that he couldn’t. But then how would he get in the school in the first place?

Gokudera was part of the majority that hated Tsunayoshi’s aloof attitude. Could anyone blame him? No. Cooking was his life and seeing the little bastard not give a crap about anything was just disrespectful and insulting to him and everyone else.

And here he was, cooking breakfast at five in the morning like it was routine for him.

“Don’t rub it in my face.”

Tsunayoshi removed one cup of warmed dashi into a small bowl and whisked in some miso paste. Yeah, he definitely fucking knew what he was doing. Everything about his movements was controlled, as if he were acting on natural, honed instinct; it was actually fascinating to watch.

Gokudera mentally slapped himself.

“I know you bribed Nakiri-san somehow. That won’t stop me.”

Although, Gokudera was curious about who he was talking to. It sounded like…a boyfriend? He hardly knew any guys calling their girlfriends “asshole”. It also sounded like the boyfriend may have been involved with the bet Tsunayoshi mentioned in his acceptance speech. That was definitely interesting. The real question was, who was the boyfriend?

Tsunayoshi brandished a chopping knife, and Gokudera could see a vein pop in his forehead. He shivered. Whatever his boyfriend was saying, it clearly got on the brunet’s nerves. His chopping also increased in fervor, yet still managed to look precise. “I’m going to burn you alive and laugh. Actually, I’m just going to ruin your coffee hoard again. No espresso forever!”

The brunet cackled. Gokudera found it oddly adorable.

“Hey, don’t blame it on him. He was only trying to help me. He actually respects my opinions, you know. And yes, I think he’s cuter than you, so there.”

Now who was the “he”? Gokudera was too focused on trying to figure out who Tsunayoshi was talking to that he didn’t notice the brunet finally acknowledging his presence—until he shrieked.

He widened his eyes when Tsunayoshi clutched his hand. Blood trickled from a cut on his finger. “Shit!” the brunet said.

Tsunayoshi immediately turned off the stove and moved to the sink to wash the cut with soap and water. His phone was on the ground, but Gokudera could hear a muffled voice still speaking through it.

“Do you like being a creeper?” Tsunayoshi said, looking at him strangely.

Gokudera flushed. “I—I’m not a creeper!”

He couldn’t think of an excuse. God, he technically was a creeper. He just stood there and watched Tsunayoshi cook and talk on the phone for Christ’s sake.

“Whatever, could you get me some ointment and a Band-Aid? The cut isn’t deep so no need to worry about paying my hospital bills.”

Gokudera nodded dumbly and opened one of the cupboards. There were some ointment and Band-Aids stacked in there in case something like this happened, though it rarely did. He handed them to Tsunayoshi and quietly watched the brunet tended to his wound.

“You’re staring again.”

Gokudera blinked before looking to the side; his cheeks felt a little hot. “Sorry.”

Tsunayoshi laughed. “Nah, I know I’m good-looking. I get that a lot.”

Gokudera blushed even harder. Apparently, the brunet was a big flirt. Well, he was attractive in an adorable way. More fluffy and soft-looking than handsome. Gokudera mentally shook his head. He did not just think that.

After throwing away the Band-Aid scrap and checking his cutting board for any blood, Tsunayoshi picked up his phone and turned the stove back on. “Hello, I’m sadly still alive. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. No, you don’t need to shoot anyone. God, stop.”

Gokudera paled. His boyfriend…shot people?

“Shut up, I don’t scream like a girl. No, I don’t.” Tsunayoshi suddenly blushed. “Shut up!”

He abruptly hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. Gokudera raised a brow but didn’t say anything. Tsunayoshi huffed before facing him. “You want some? I have extras.”

Gokudera glanced warily at the pots, despite the delicious aroma. “I—”

“Great! Sit over there and I’ll bring it to you.”

Gokudera didn’t have a chance to respond when Tsunayoshi practically shoved him into the large dining hall. He was about to yell at him before his mouth closed shut. Maybe this could be a good chance to learn something about the boy. He sat down at the table and impatiently waited for Tsunayoshi to finish, his fingers drumming against the oak table. Finally, the brunet walked out with a tray in hand, which was filled with different assortments of Japanese side dishes, a bowl of rice, and miso soup.

“Here you go,” Tsunyaoshi said, setting them in front of him. “Do you have any drink preference? Please don’t say coffee or I’ll smack you.”

“Anything’s fine,” Gokudera said quickly.

The brunet beamed. Where the hell did all those flowers and sparkles come from? “Great!”

After Tsunayoshi left, Gokudera stared at the simple dish, taking note of the steaming, hot rice, a perfect white mound in its bowl, and the miso soup that smelled absolutely heavenly. There was a small dish of tamagoyaki garnished with a shisho leaf, a dish of pickled radish, and finally, a nice plate of koji salmon. The mixed aroma was simply mouthwatering.

Still, Gokudera was hesitant.

“You don’t like it?”

He tensed when Tsunayoshi came back with a pot of tea and two cups. “I didn’t eat yet.”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “I didn’t poison them. They’re perfectly fine. Here.”

Gokudera widened his eyes when Tsunayoshi picked up his chopsticks, hand-picked a piece of salmon, and ate it. He chewed on it thoughtfully before swallowing. “It’s fine,” he said, handing Gokudera back his chopsticks. “See? I’m not dead.”

“Yet,” Gokudera said, rolling his eyes.

Tsunayoshi grinned. “I like you. Now hurry up and eat. They’re going to get cold.”

Gokudera hesitated but thought what the hell, he was hungry anyways. Free food was just as good. He picked up his spoon, took a bit of miso soup, and sipped. The warm flavor burst pleasantly on his tongue, not too bitter or too watery. He felt himself floating on cloud nine as the soup slid down his throat. It was probably the best miso soup he had ever tasted. Suddenly, tears welled up in his eyes. The rich, full taste reminded him of home, of Italy, of his mother. Her sweet voice rang gently in his mind. “I believe in you, Hayato. Remember, I love you no matter what.”

Gripping his spoon tightly, Gokudera sipped more soup. It took him a moment to notice Tsunayoshi was smiling at him. He quickly wiped his eyes, cursing at himself. “W—What the hell are you looking at?”

“I miss my home, too,” Tsunayoshi said, sipping his own miso soup. “I miss my mama.”

Gokudera swallowed some rice. God, even this simple rice tasted good. “Where are you from?”

“Namimori. It’s a small town in Kōchi but it’s home. It’s far from here.” Tsunayoshi scowled but it looked more like a pout. “I wasted all my money on the train tickets already, so now I can’t visit Mama anymore.”

Ah, so that could explain some of his absence from class. That town sounded familiar but Gokudera couldn’t remember from where. “Is your mother in the culinary business?” he said.

“She owns a small restaurant.”

Gokudera looked at him incredulously. “Only a small restaurant?”

Tsunayoshi deadpanned. “What’s wrong with that?”

“W—Well, I assumed that you at least came from a family that had some prominence. Since you got accepted into this school in the first place.” 

Tsunayoshi huffed. “Yeah, well, you assumed. Doesn’t mean I do. You also assumed that I didn’t know how to cook.”

Gokudera had the decency to blush. Okay, yeah, he was a dumbass for all those things.

“Sōma was right. You people think that it only takes your food to satisfy everyone. You know what makes chefs better? Communication. Talking to people—and yes, including your clients—so you can learn from your mistakes and not jump to the wrong conclusions.” Tsunayoshi sighed dramatically. “You children have so much to learn.”

“Then why are you here in the first place if you know so damn much?” Gokudera couldn’t help but shout.

He was pissed. This boy was basically lecturing him when they barely knew each other. Who was he to have the right? They were practically the same damn age and the brunet wasn’t even from a prominent family. Warning bells rang in the back of Gokudera’s head but he ignored them, too angry to even care.

“Didn’t I say it before?” Tsunayoshi said. “I lost a bet.”

Gokudera sneered. “To your boyfriend?”

Tsunayosh didn’t seem fazed by the other boy’s ire, which only made him angrier. “Yup. So, you were eavesdropping.”

“You know what I think? I think you being here is fucking rude to everything we worked hard for! It’s fucking aggravating! But you know what I don’t get? You can actually fucking cook! Why don’t you at least put in the effort?”

“Because I don’t want to be here,” Tsunayoshi said.

Gokudera gaped at him. “This is Tōtsuki Culinary Academy. Everyone wants to be here!”

“Well, I’m not everyone. I don’t care about being the best or whatever people are here for. I can respect your decisions and your choice for coming here, but that doesn’t mean I share the same thing. All I want to do is stay home and cook with my mama.”

Gokudera could only stare at him, wide-eyed. He didn’t even realize they had company until Tsunayoshi smiled and said, “Morning, Kyoya! I left a tray for you so you can eat in your room.”

The demon prefect that scared nearly everyone in the dormitory stood at the doorway, his eyes narrowed at Gokudera. He was still wearing his pajamas, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still intimidating. “Herbivore, you’re disturbing the peace.”

Gokudera couldn’t say a word. Tsunayoshi and Hibari fucking Kyoya knew each other? That was when it clicked. Namimori—they were both from Namimori. In fact, wasn’t there someone else from there, too?

“Yo, Tsuna!”

“B—Baseball freak?” Gokudera stuttered out.

Yamamoto grinned at him. “Oh, hey, Gokudera. What are you doing up so early?”

“What are you doing up this early?”

“I run. I thought you knew that.”

“At five in the morning?”

Yamamoto laughed. “You’re funny, Gokudera. It’s six.”

Tsunayoshi somehow returned with another tray of food and placed it in front of Yamamoto. “Here. Eat first.”

“Thanks, Tsuna!” 

“Extremely good morning, Sawada!” another voice said.

Gokudera blinked as Ryohei stalked into the room. Again, another tray of food appeared for the overly-energetic teen. Gokudera was about ready to faint. “How…?”

Tsunayoshi just smiled mysteriously. “They liked my miso soup. You want more?”

Gokudera nodded dumbly and watched the brunet refill his bowl. Tsunayoshi was still an enigma.

The school grounds were crowded with hundreds of hungry and eager people for free (and great) food. Each student had their own booths set up to showcase their talents and skills, doing everything they could to attract the Arcobaleno. Well, every student beside Sawada Tsunayoshi, who somehow found Gokudera’s stand amongst the myriad of others.

“Gokudera!” the brunet said, waving cheerfully.

The silver-haired teen raised a brow. “Tsunayoshi, don’t you have your own stand to take care?"

Tsunayoshi shrugged. “Didn’t plan one. And call me Tsuna. Tsunayoshi’s too long. Can I have one?”

Gokudera’s brow twitched but he nonetheless slid a plate of his Sicilian spaghetti towards the boy. “Here.”

He didn’t know why he felt so nervous when Tsuna took a bite. He tried to read the brunet’s expression but couldn’t find anything, which made him panic more. Did Tsuna like it? Hate it? Was it too dry? And how the hell could he look so calm?

“This tastes great,” Tsuna said. “You didn’t add too much olive oil, which is good. Most people don’t know that Italian pasta is supposed to be dry. Did you make the linguine yourself?”

It took a few seconds for Gokudera to process what Tsuna just said before he straightened himself. “I make my own pasta.”

“Nice. I personally think the ingredients cling to linguine much better than spaghetti anyways. I actually like to use panko bread crumbs for a little crunchy texture, but that’s just me. Anyways, I think you might have the potential for the Elite Ten someday, if that’s what you’re going for, or whatever.”

Gokudera couldn’t help but feel elated at the brunet’s words. God, he probably looked like an overjoyed puppy. Still, he kept it cool to save some dignity. “Thanks.”

“By the way, what’s with the festival?” Tsuna looked around as he ate more of Gokudera’s dish. “Are we celebrating something?”

Gokudera deadpanned. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you pay any attention to what’s going on?”

Tsuna shrugged. “I told you. I don’t want to be here. School spirit was never my thing anyways.”

Before Gokudera could say another word, he froze when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd. It was a tall man in a full leather outfit, holding a white helmet against his hip. He wore some eyeliner and purple lipstick with a teardrop-shaped tattoo under his left eye. Skull Vasiliev, the tenth seat of the 89^th Tōtsuki generation and a connoisseur in Russian cuisine. An Arcobaleno. Near his booth. Holy fuck.

Tsuna waved a hand in front of Gokudera’s face. “Hey, your anchovies are burning.”

Gokudera yelped before quickly dumping them in the trashcan by his feet. He quickly worked on creating another batch when he heard a voice call out, “Oi, Tsuna!”

“Skull!”

His mind short-circuited. What. The. Fuck.

Gokudera looked up to see Skull run up to Tsuna and pull him into a headlock, ruffling his hair. Tsuna laughed until Skull finally let go and gave the other man a greeting kiss on each cheek.

“Damn, you’re actually here,” Skull said, surveying the campus. “Huh, can’t believe I actually missed this place.”

Tsuna huffed. “I still can’t believe it. You know, I have enough E’s to be expelled four times but I’m still here.”

Skull snickered. “You had it coming for ya. Even I know to never piss the bastard off, but you do it anyways.”

Tsuna grinned. “I live to please, dear.” He twirled some of Gokudera’s linguine around his fork and held it against Skull’s lips. “Here, try this. Gokudera here made it.”

Gokudera nearly choked on his spit when Tsuna fed Skull his dish. He found himself leaning forward in anticipation when Skull chewed on his linguine before swallowing. “Not bad,” Skull said. “I like the breadcrumbs. You made the linguine yourself, kid?”

“Y—Yes, I did!” Gokudera said, standing up straighter.

“Huh, I thought you wouldn’t make friends here,” Skull said, actually eating more linguine.

Tsuna grinned at Gokudera, surprising him. “Well, we got off the wrong foot but he’s alright.”

Gokudera flushed. “I said I was sorry!”

Tsuna laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not dead so you’re fine. Anyways, what are you doing here, Skull?”

Skull deadpanned. “Are you serious? Don’t you know?”

Tsuna shrugged. “I don’t know anything going on here honestly.” 

“This festival is for us.”

Tsuna tilted his head. “Us?”

Skull face-palmed. “Us, Tsuna, us! Fon, Colonello, Lal, Viper—the Arcobaleno? Ring any bells?”

“Oh.”

“Um, are you guys…dating?” Gokudera asked, handing his dish to some other customers. 

“I wish,” Tsuna deadpanned. 

“I’d probably be shot before I could,” Skull said in the same manner.

Gokudera stared at them, still confused. “Oh…”

The two snickered, as if sharing an inside joke, which kind of annoyed Gokudera. He was still so out of the fucking loop. How did Tsuna know Skull? More importantly, how did this kid know the Arcobaleno? Did that mean he knew the rest of them personally, too? Gokudera didn’t know if he actually struck gold or not.

Tsuna’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, if you guys are here then…”

His voice drowned out when squeals erupted behind them. Gokudera gaped when a group of familiar people walked towards his booth. The crowd even parted for them, looking on in awe. Several students paused in their cooking to gawk as the Arcobaleno walked past them.

The man leading them was the famed Renato Sinclair, or more widely known as Reborn. He was even handsomer up close, and more intimidating. The woman beside him was Luce di Giglio Nero, a refined pâtissier from the famous Giglio Nero famiglia. With a gentle face and kind smile, she easily won the hearts of many with her heavenly pastries. Donning a plain green kimono and glasses, Sato Kawahira, fearfully known as Checker Face during his school days and an expert on Japanese noodles, walked on Reborn’s left. He had a special liking for ramen, which his restaurants were known for.

Another intimidating man trailed behind them with a fancy walking cane, wearing a black top hat and suit—Bermuda von Veckenschtein, a chef with impressive skill in meat and German cuisine. Next to him was a blue-haired woman with a burnt scar on her right cheek—Lal Mirch, a powerhouse known for her expertise in spices and Indian and Thai cuisine. Her boyfriend, Colonnello, had his arm slung over her shoulders and an easygoing grin on his handsome face. A notable chef in Italian cuisine as well, particularly for his family’s pasta-making skills, Colonello was more known for his sharp tongue and militaristic attitude in the kitchen. That didn’t deter the fact that he was extremely competitive with Reborn, which prompted some exciting culinary battles, if not, a little dangerous.

Yáo Fon, a Chinese man wearing a red changshan and white pants, strode with a measured pace by the couple’s side. He was famed for his extensive knowledge in Chinese cuisine and also for his impressive martial arts skills, which he sometimes used to entertain his customers. A cloaked man to his left looked like he was gliding across the floor—Viper Bonheur, a chef who only worked for money and renowned for his French cuisine. His family was prominent in wine-making skills, which he easily took on. Last but not least, Verde Castelo—a man of science who excelled in molecular gastronomy and Mediterranean dishes. He was tall with green hair and wore his signature lab coat over a casual dress shirt and brown slacks.

These were the legendary chefs to comprised the Arcobaleno.

Gokudera felt like he died the third time that day. Tsuna’s loud voice suddenly broke the awed spell over the crowd. “You asshole, I’m going to skin you alive!”

Almost everyone gasped when they noticed who he was referring to: Reborn. Surprisingly, the young man took it in stride, only smirking at the brunet. “Oh? I hope I taste delicious to your liking.”

“Get a room!” Colonnello said.

He winced when Lal Mirch smacked his head. “Shut up, you idiot!”

Laughing nervously, Luce patted Tsuna’s arm. “Now, now, Tsuna-kun, why don’t we just talk this over, alright? I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“I want to leave and go back home,” was Tsuna’s firm response.

Reborn leaned down closer to the brunet’s face. “I’m not the one who lost the bet. A year didn’t even pass yet, Tsuna, and you’re backing out already? Such a shame. I thought you were stronger than that.”

Tsuna looked at Skull who helplessly shrugged. “You kind of dug your own hole there.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, and I don’t want to die. No hard feelings, right?” 

“Die."

“Love you too, babe.” 

Tsuna huffed before glaring at Reborn. “I challenge you to a shokugeki. Right now!”

Gokudera’s jaw dropped. Holy shit, what the fuck was going on? He blinked when Tsuna tried tugging him out of his booth. “What the hell are you doing?” he said.

“You can make it official, right?” Tsuna whispered in his ear.

“What? Are you an idiot? I’m not even an authorized figure! Besides, Reborn isn’t even a student here. What the hell are you even thinking?”

Tsuna blinked. “Don’t you challenge people to a shokugeki to get what you want here?”

“You’re right, Sawada-kun,” another voice said. The Director appeared by their side. Okay, Gokudera died way too many times at this point. “But I can allow it to happen, if Reborn is willing. It can be a learning experience for the students.” Senzaemon smiled slightly. “What do you say, Reborn? You’re not one to back down from a challenge.”

Gokudera’s head struggled to grasp what was happening but he was too excited at the prospect of seeing his idol cook; but then he remembered that it was Tsuna who openly challenged Reborn and couldn’t help but worry a bit. “Hey, do you think it’s actually a good idea?” he whispered to the brunet. “He’s Reborn.”

Tsuna quirked a brow. “Yeah, so what? We do it all the time anyways. This is nothing.”

Gokudera gaped at him. “W—What do you mean all the time?”

Tsuna patted Gokudera’s head like he was a small child. “He was the asshole I was talking to on the phone this morning. Does that explain it?”

This morning… Then that meant…

“Reborn is your boyfriend?”

Tsuna sighed dramatically before clinging onto Skull’s arm. “I wish it was Skull though. He at least respects my opinions and we get along quite well.”

Skull snorted but didn’t shake him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m awesome. I know.”

“Tsuna.”

Gokudera did not like the way Reborn slightly narrowed his eyes. It just screamed danger. Tsuna seemed unfazed by it though. “So, do you accept?”

“I do.”

“What are your wagers?” Senzaemon asked.

Tsuna grinned almost viciously, sending shivers down Gokudera’s spine. “If I win, I get to be expelled.”

Whispers emerged amongst the crowd at the ridiculous request.

“If you lose, you will stay here until you graduate and act like a proper student,” Reborn said. 

“Fine.”

“On our right is the legendary Reborn, former first seat of the 89^th Tōtsuki generation and one of the members of the famed Arcobaleno! And to our left, is Tōtsuki Culinary Academy’s own first-year, Sawada Tsunayoshi!”

The crowd roared in thunderous applause. Nearly all of them placed their bets on Reborn, excluding Tsuna from even winning. Gokudera didn’t know what he thought about that; he could only think, “holy crap, he’s sitting next the Arcobaleno” and “shit, he was going to watch Reborn cook”. He couldn’t help but smirk when he saw heated glares directed his way.

“Oh, dear,” Luce said, “we should’ve stopped them.”

Colonnello scoffed. “With those two, I’m surprised they haven’t actually killed each other yet.”

Lal Mirch rolled her eyes. “They could’ve probably done it in their sleep if they wanted to.”

“Yeah, just probably too busy shoving their tongues down each other’s throats.”

“Oh, hush, you two,” Luce said. “They’re perfect for each other. Mammon, what are you doing?”

“Collecting bets. Ninety-nine percent are in Reborn’s favor.”

Verde scribbled something in his notepad. “This is their 299^th battle. Anything could happen with these two.”

Gokudera looked at him questioningly. “Anything?”

Kawahira smiled. “Reborn has won 272 of those matches while Tsuna-kun has won 27 of them. They’re both quite impressive.”

Gokudera widened his eyes. Tsuna managed to beat Reborn before?

“Yeah, but they play dirty,” Colonello said, shuddering. “Remember that one time Reborn managed to ruin Tsuna’s ingredients before a match? It took forever to get rid of the bugs.”

Skull snickered. “Tsuna destroyed all of his coffee beans after that. It was great.”

“It was a waste of money,” Mammon said, pursing his lips.

“But then Reborn also damaged Tsuna’s knives…”

Everyone shuddered, not wanting to remember even more terrible events.

“They’re just very competitive,” Fon said, smiling a little nervously.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking,” Gokudera piped up, “what was the bet that Tsuna lost that got him here in the first place?”

“It didn’t even count in my opinion,” Skull said. “Tsuna was so drunk. I don’t think he even remembered what happened.”

Luce glared and the temperature dropped drastically. “What?”

Skull paled and shrank in his seat, not saying another word. Bermuda sighed. “Reborn got him drunk to agree to his terms. He himself never participated in his own bet.”

Colonello laughed. “It was hilarious! Tsuna swore he could stuff 50 marshmallows in his mouth. He could only fit 5 before he passed out. It was pretty impressive though. He could hold more drinks than I thought he could, but he’ll get better with practice. Remember, kid, drinking is a necessary life skill.”

Lal Mirch smacked his head, glancing nervously at Luce. “Shut the hell up! We weren’t supposed to say anything about that!”

“Tsuna still doesn’t know, I believe,” Kawahira said, with the same smile on his face. “Reborn is quite cunning.”

Even Gokudera leaned away from the fuming woman next to him. Luce looked absolutely terrifying. Before she could say another word however, the battle had already begun.

“Look at their speed! Reborn’s almost finished already!”

Gokudera was immediately enraptured by the man’s hands. They were incredibly precise and fast, a blur to the audience’s eyes. Reborn spread half of his herb mixture over his steaks, then lightly oiled the grate of his grill before tossing the steaks on them. Gokudera’s mouth watered when he smelled the delicious aroma from his seat while the meat sizzled.

“Sawada is also half-finished with his dish! He’s not giving into the pressure that easily, folks! He barely looks winded!”

Gokudera directed his eyes at the brunet who was extremely focused, almost unnervingly so, his eyes looking bright amber under the lights. He drained an excess of liquid from his skillet and gathered other ingredients to add. Marinara sauce, wine, and red pepper flakes were thrown in with a flourish before simmering for some time, emitting a savory aroma as well.

Everything from both sides happened in a blur. Steaks sizzled and were flipped over; panko bread crumbs were mixed with parmesan cheese; the herb mixture turned into charred crust; large bell peppers were parboiled. Gokudera didn’t know who to focus on at this point and neither did anyone else despite the giant flat-screen TV showing both sides. No one spoke a word.

Reborn moved elegantly with purpose, but still exhibited a charismatic aura that captured the audience’s attention. Tsuna also clearly demonstrated extraordinary skill for a person his age, and Gokudera guessed that he could easily take the top three seats of the Elite Ten Council if he tried.

Soon, the battle was over and Gokudera could barely hear himself breathe. The roar of the crowd echoed in his ears and his heart thumped hard against his chest when the dishes were presented to the five judges, including the director himself. How was it already over?

Reborn’s dish was an Italian Rib Eye garnished with a dash of oregano and parsley. The steaks looked so tender, easily secreting their juices when the judges pressed their forks on the meat, with the grilled asparagus adding a nice touch. There were also thick slices of Vidalia onion that were similarly brushed with Reborn’s unique herb mixture.

The judges loved it.

“The herb mixture is absolutely genius!” Jun said, cupping her cheeks. “It brings out the steak’s ultimate rich flavor!”

“The steak was grilled very well,” Osaji said, nodding his bald head with a blush. “It’s impressive you were able to get it this tender in a short amount of time. As expected of you, Reborn.”

“The red wine is an excellent addition,” Kōda said, eating more of the steak. “As Shiomi-san said, the flavor is rich but you managed to make it even more flavorful with the wine.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Reborn,” Senzaemon said, slipping the top of his yukata back on.

“Absolutely wonderful,” Orie said, batting her eyelashes at Reborn. “I believe I see something else more ravishing, too.”

To nearly everyone’s surprise, Reborn just chuckled, brushing off the flirtatious woman’s advances, and tugged Tsuna closer to his side. “Grazie, but I’m afraid I’m taken, Sendawara-san.”

Tsuna shrugged. “Sorry, but he won’t leave me alone. A for effort though.”

Gokudera couldn’t help but shake his head in confusion. Didn’t Tsuna want to win at all? And wasn’t he at Reborn’s throat earlier? Their relationship was just weird.

“They actually don’t care about winning,” Luce said, as if reading his thoughts. “They only battle for the thrill of it. And I should say that it can be very exciting.”

Gokudera raised a brow. “Doesn’t Tsuna want to win though? Isn’t that the point of the challenge?”

Luce smiled. “Yes, Tsuna wants to win, but he’s more concerned about where he stands next to Reborn now. It has been a while since they’ve battled each other. These fights are mainly to learn from one another. You know, I’ve never seen Reborn look so excited until he met Tsuna. Only Tsuna can make him feel that way.”

Frowning, Gokudera pondered on the information. “Is that why Reborn sent Tsuna here?”

“You’re quite sharp, Gokudera-kun. Yes, Reborn hates seeing someone like Tsuna-kun not reach their full potential and thought it’d be best to send him here so he could flourish. However, Tsuna is just as stubborn as he is, which can be an issue sometimes.”

Gokudera blushed at the praise but kept his calm nonetheless. It wasn’t every day you get complimented by an Arcobaleno, you know? “He said that he wants to go back home and cook with his mother.”

Luce nodded. “Tsuna-kun is a very nice boy. He’s more loyal to his family than anything else. It’s just, he’s still young and has so much to learn; it’s a shame he doesn’t want to branch out. He has the potential to be much better than he is now if he puts in the effort. Reborn thinks the same.” She smiled fondly. “But I think they learn best from each other. They’re quite the pair.”

“Their battles are much more intense than this,” Colonello said lazily. “This is just child’s play. Lal, I’m hungry. Let’s steal some of their food later.”

“I’m not willing to get shot or stabbed for you,” Lal deadpanned.

Luce smiled at Gokudera’s horrified look. “They’re quite protective of their dishes and only let each other taste them. It’s quite romantic, isn’t it?”

“Tsuna gives some to me,” Skull said before shrinking from everyone’s glares. “Well, only if I help him destroy Reborn’s stuff.”

Colonnello rolled his eyes. “Only you’d be stupid enough to do that. I wouldn’t risk losing an arm to that bastard.”

Mammon pursed his lips. “They both demand unreasonable prices.”

Fon smiled behind his long sleeve, not bothering to add his input. It was great being a pacifist. Finally, Tsuna’s dish was presented to the judges. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation as they chewed his food.

Fon smiled behind his long sleeve, not bothering to add his input. It was great being a pacifist. Finally, Tsuna’s dish was presented to the judges. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation as they chewed his food. The brunet had made Bolognese stuffed bell peppers, the filling spilling out lusciously on their plates; the rice was mixed with pancetta, beef, onion, and garlic, and the panko bread crumbs gave the parmesan topping a light golden crispy texture. Some homemade tomato sauce was mixed in with the stuffing. The steamed broccolis and mashed potatoes were a genius touch that brought out more of the colorful dish.

The judges’ amazement was immediate.

“The panko bread crumbs add an amazing texture to the parmesan!” Jun said, closing her eyes in bliss. “What a wonderful consistency!”

“The bell peppers were parboiled very well,” Osaji said, cutting another piece. “It’s not too soft or soggy and it complements the stuffing nicely. You demonstrate great control for a first-year, Sawada.”

Kōda nodded. “Your use of pancetta is brilliant. I’m glad you didn’t use bacon like most people do. It tends to get too greasy and not mix well with the sauce, which is also superb.”

“Your filling was mixed excellently, Sawada-kun,” Senzaemon said, slipping the top of his yukata back on a second time. “The sauce is authentically Bolognese and the wine brings out the taste more. I noticed you simmered it a bit longer than usual that helped deepen the flavor.”

“It’s not as good as Reborn’s,” Orie said with a sniff.

Tsuna rolled his eyes. “Please, you practically came when you ate it. No hard feelings though. You’re only one of five anyways.”

Orie widened her eyes while some giggles spread in the arena. Even Gokudera choked back a laugh. “H—How dare you! My vote was going for Reborn anyways. A brat like you can never compare to him!”

“Mhmm, whatever you say, lady. I’m the one in bed with him, not you.”

Orie sputtered out some unintelligible words, struggling to think of a comeback, but ended up with nothing. Kōda chuckled. “Now, now, Sendawara-san. No need to get all riled up. This is quite a difficult decision to make. Shiomi-san, what do you think?”

Jun chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “Oh, it’s very hard. I enjoyed both dishes immensely, but I’ll give my vote to Reborn. I still can’t get over your wonderful herb mixture.”

“I vote for Sawada-kun,” Osaji said. “While Reborn had an excellent dish, Sawada-kun’s was less heavy on the tongue. I hope you don’t see this as an insult, Reborn.”

“None taken,” the young man said.

Tsuna grinned. “You can take extra home with you, Osaji-san. I made some more.”

The old man brightened. “Really? Thank you, Sawada-kun! That is much appreciated.”

Colonnello perked up. “Hey, hey, hey, think we can get some, too?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Lal Mirch said. “Tsuna could just give them all away to Osaji unless someone else gives him a vote. How does it look, Verde?”

The other man pushed up his glasses, the lenses glinting under the light. “It’s always hard to tell with these two. I’m betting on Reborn.”

“Why do you always bet the odds against Tsuna?” Skull whined. “Cut the kid some slack. He deserves some award for dealing with the bastard. I don’t think I could stand Reborn for even five seconds.”

“That’s because he’s better than you,” Colonnello said.

“Hey!”

“Now is not the best time to argue,” Fon said. “Why don’t we focus on the results, hm?”

The two remaining judges were Kōda and Senzaemon, who both mulled over their decision for a few more minutes. Finally, Kōda spoke up. “My vote goes to Sawada-kun,” he said with a smile. “Your sauce was excellent and I hope to recreate it someday.”

Tsuna beamed. Holy shit, where were those flowers and sparkles coming from, seriously? “Thank you, Kōda-san! I’ll be sure to pack some for you, too!”

Now it was up to Senzaemon. The elderly man pondered over it for a while before reaching his decisions. The arena was silent, almost buzzing with tension.

What was his verdict?

“I’m afraid…”

Tsuna pouted as he leaned his head against Reborn’s back. “I hate you. I hate Nakiri-san. I hate this school. I hate everything. Kill me, please.”

Reborn chuckled. “My experience and skills outweigh your raw talent, Tsuna.”

“Stop rubbing it in my face,” Tsuna said. “I get it. Just remember that I’m never going to sleep with you again, bastard.”

“Well, Sendawara seems willing.”

Reborn smirked when Tsuna’s hands gripped his suit jacket. “Anyone but her,” Tsuna muttered.

“There’s Viola in Florence.” 

“Okay, anyone but her and Sendawara.”

“Nicoletta—”

“I thought you had better taste. They’re all terrible.”

“I’m only saying that there are other options. I’m a man with needs, Tsuna.”

The brunet scoffed. “I’m the only who can satisfy your needs.”

“Get a fucking room!” Colonello said, clasping his hands behind his head. “Goddamn, could you get any more obvious?”

Gokudera looked back and forth between them with wide eyes. Tsuna turned to glare at the blond. “You know, I was actually going to give you some extras I had but I changed my mind

Colonello widened his eyes. “I take that back! I’m sorry, Tsuna! Feed me! I’ve been hungry ever since your damn shokugeki started. I thought I was going to die! Why don’t you ever share your food? Hey, hey, hey, if Reborn doesn’t want you, come to me so you can feed me!”

He yelped when Lal Mirch smacked his head. “I’m right here, you idiot!” she said.

Colonnello laughed sheepishly. “You know I still love you. I was just joking.”

“You’re an idiot, Colonnello,” Tsuna deadpanned. “Besides, just get some food from the students. They’re literally cooking for you.”

“But I want to try your dish!” 

“I am so sorry for you, Lal Mirch.” 

The woman sighed. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Hey, that was insulting.”

“It was meant to be, idiot. Come on, let’s find something to eat.”

Tsuna stuck his tongue out at Colonello while Lal Mirch dragged him away. The other Arcobaleno had already dispersed beforehand to taste the students’ food. Tsuna looked to Gokudera. “You should go back, too. Aren’t the teachers going to grade the booths?”

“What about you?” Gokudera said, quirking a brow. “Technically, you’re still a student.”

Tsuna buried his face against Reborn’s back. “God, stop reminding me. I hate you now.”

“Stop acting like a child, Tsuna,” Reborn said, tugging the brunet’s arm. “There’s already a booth set up for you.”

Reborn smirked. “Your booth is this way.”

Tsuna was about sit on the floor in protest but Reborn knew him too well. He squeaked when his boyfriend hauled him up and easily tossed him over his shoulder. “You lost weight, Tsuna,” Reborn said, almost disapprovingly.

Tsuna struggled vainly in the man’s strong hold. “Put me down, you bastard! I’m going to stab you.”

“You can try.”

“I will! Gokudera, help me! I’ll make you whatever you want!”

Gokudera slowly shook his head. He valued his life too much. “I’m sitting this one out. Good luck, Tsuna.”

He didn’t look back when Tsuna screamed, “You traitor! I will cut you open! Just you wait, you bastard!”

Tsuna finally slumped and propped his chin on his hand. There was no use in fighting. It was pointless anyways and he couldn’t stay angry at Reborn forever. He could but he wasn’t stupid. They were both stubborn as hell and Tsuna knew he’d eventually get tired of wasting his energy on something so trivial. “I still hate you,” he said with less heat.

“You know I’m only doing this for you, Tsuna.”

“I know… I hate that you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” 

“Don’t push it.”

Chapter Text

Gokudera could never ask for better high school years than the ones he had at Tōtsuki Culinary Academy.

After Tsuna had become an “official” student and actually took his work a little more seriously, it was a total riot—no, really. The little shit made Gokudera do most of the work, but hey, at least he learned from it. He still snickered every time he remembered the students’ faces whenever Tsuna pulled off an A as easily as he did with E’s before.

Plus, Tsuna was a significant stepping stone for him in the culinary world. His connection with the Arcobaleno opened more doors for Gokudera than he could ever need, much to his father’s delight. His mother just held onto him a little longer when he returned home after graduation. Bianchi, on the other hand, was angry that Reborn was taken, and Gokudera still wasn’t sure how her poisoned “gifts” managed to get through airport security. Well, Tsuna was still alive so that was okay, he guessed. It still didn’t stop him from lecturing Bianchi whenever he saw her, which was becoming less and less frequent.

The endless career choices were overwhelming to say the least.

However, Gokudera didn’t think that way about Tsuna after all the shit they went through together. He was his best friend, or first and only friend as his mother liked to point out teasingly.

Even if Tsuna had some screws loose in his head, he was the nicest person Gokudera had ever met. Beneath all that snarky and sarcastic exterior was a heart of fucking gold, and no one could tell him otherwise. He lost count of how many times Tsuna wrung his own neck to push Gokudera further up the ladder and sacrificed every golden opportunity he was offered to make sure Gokudera never felt alone or left behind. Sure, they argued like hell over it but Tsuna was more stubborn than he gave him credit for.

There was one incident that was permanently seared into his mind—the day Tsuna threatened Nakiri Azami for insulting Gokudera’s dishes at the Moon Banquet Festival. It had thrown their school into a frenzy, especially when the man later became the new director, but Tsuna was beyond livid to care.

Yeah, Azami’s ideology was extreme and he had some creepy obsession with Sōma’s father—Tsuna said that it was no different from Gokudera’s idol-worship of Reborn, but he disagreed—except, even Gokudera thought Tsuna was insane for directly confronting the dangerous man.

But Tsuna was Tsuna and Gokudera was secretly grateful for his support. He’d never forget what Tsuna had told the man either: “Yeah, Gokudera maybe should’ve added more salt and simmer his beef more like I told him to but he’s a stubborn ass and this is his booth so why do I even bother—that isn’t the point. High-quality is subjective when it comes to dishes that come from the heart and you, sir, are a heartless bastard.”

It was pretty badass until Tsuna tried to challenge the man to a shokugeki, which, Jesus Christ, he used every time to solve everything.

Threatening his friends with expulsion? Shokugeki. 

Insulting his friends’ dishes with no viable reason? Shokugeki. 

Sabotaging the good name of the culinary art and calling it to a “girl’s thing”? Shokugeki (“Goddamn it, Tsuna, he doesn’t even go here!”).

Disturbing his sleep? Shokugeki.

Accidentally using one of his precious knives? Shokugeki. (“There are better uses for these. Wanna see?”) 

His laundry detergent was missing? Shokugeki (Poor Megumi, who always seemed to be nearby whenever this happened).

Unexpected thunderstorms? Shokugeki (“You can’t challenge the fucking sky! Look, I’ll just call a cab. Stop doing that, damn it! You’re going to catch a cold!”)

The list could go on forever.

Anyways, thank God that Gokudera and Erina were able to calm Tsuna down. Although, Azami’s new obsession with the brunet later did not fucking help at all. Seriously, Tsuna attracted every insane thing that walked on two legs (not that Reborn was insane, but Gokudera had started doubting the man ever since he pulled out a fucking gun on some asshole for harassing Tsuna at a festival three years ago; needless to say, Reborn wasn’t the only one he suspected. He was pretty sure Colonnello and Lal Mirch had some things up their sleeve, too.)

Simply put, Gokudera owed Tsuna a lifetime of debt. Of course, he’d never say it out loud because Tsuna would threaten to skin him alive if he ever thought that he owed him anything. 

Still, he’d cherish their friendship forever.

So, when Tsuna called him during his day off, drunk over the phone, Gokudera picked up after the first ring. Though, one thing he didn’t want to deal with was a drunk Tsuna. He was cute, but got exhausting pretty quickly. Gokudera did not want to think about New Year’s from three years ago.

“Gokudera,” Tsuna said, hiccupping, “I miss you!”

“Tsuna, are you drunk?” Gokudera said, ever so patiently.

Tsuna giggled. “No, I’m sober, you dummy. You’re supp’se to be the smart one.”

Gokudera winced when he heard loud yelling in the background. Definitely Colonnello. And holy shit, what were they doing? It was around two in the morning in Tokyo and six in the evening here in Florence. “How much did you drink?” he said.

“One!” Tsuna said proudly. “One cup all the time!”

“Using one cup doesn’t mean you drank once, idiot. Where’s Reborn?”

Gokudera could sense Tsuna scowling through the phone. It’d probably look more like a pout because Tsuna rarely looked terrifying on a normal basis. More like a ruffled bunny as Luce would say. 

“’e’s not here,” Tsuna said. “I killed him.”

He suddenly whined when his phone was suddenly out of reach and a familiar baritone spoke through the line, “Good evening, Gokudera.”

“Good morning, Reborn.”

“I find it interesting that you’re the first person on Tsuna’s speed-dial.”

Gokudera looked around the room warily as if the man would suddenly appear. It was impossible but Reborn could probably pull it off somehow. That man could do anything and get away with it. Probably be also labeled a saint over Gokudera’s dead body.

“I didn’t know that,” Gokudera said as casually as he could. Oh, he definitely knew about it. Tsuna told him every day that he’d be the first he’d turn to if shit went south, much to Skull’s chagrin. He prayed that he’d live past 22 at least. “Is Tsuna okay?”

“He’s fine. Tsuna, why don’t you tell Gokudera what happened?”

Gokudera furrowed his brows. He did not like where this was going. Tsuna came back on the phone and… was he crying? “Gokudera,” Tsuna sobbed, “Rebo’n’s being mean again. Can you come tomorrow?”

“Tsuna, I can’t hear what you’re saying. Talk slower.”

Tsuna was practically hysterical at this point. “I don’t want to open a restaurant!”

Oh…

“I told you to stop betting against him, you dumbass! And why are you even drinking? Don’t you remember what happened last time? This is how he gets to you, idiot!”

“’m not an idiot!” Tsuna said. “’m special!”

“Yeah, a special kind of stupid,” Gokudera deadpanned.

“I don’t like you anymore. Skull, where ‘re you? I need hugs! Let me go, Reb’n!”

“One year in Tokyo,” Reborn said. Did he ever get drunk? Probably not, and Gokudera saw how much the man could drink. It was inhuman. “I’m sure Shamal won’t mind.”

“What do I have to do?” Gokudera said after a beat of silence.

“Be Tsuna’s sous chef.” 

“What’s in it for us?” 

“I already reserved a plane ticket for you. Tomorrow at 7 AM sharp. Don’t be late.” 

“Wait—”

Click.

Wow…

Reborn was so cool.

“I think you should reconsider this one, Tsuna.”

Gokudera looked around the run-down building in distaste. Mold and cobwebs dusted the ceiling and the landlady looked like she was way past her due date.

“What are you talking about, Gokudera?” Tsuna spread his arms in the air with a big grin. “This is perfect.”

On cue, the ceiling caved in.

The landlady smiled pleasantly. “I was meaning to fix that, but my husband has been resting outside in the garden for many years now. Would you like to see him?”

Silence.

“I hate you all…”

“This is unnecessary, Tsuna.”

“I thought we were on the same page.”

Gokudera sighed. “You wanted something else and all of your choices were horrible. Reborn’s choice was perfectly fine.” 

“Reborn can go screw himself. Oh, Gokudera, look!”

Gokudera looked to what he was pointing at. A lovely little river ran through the city; quaint shops and several restaurants were on either side of it, and some bridges were constructed above it. It was also cherry blossom season, so the river was accentuated with the beautiful view of sakura branches dripping along the water. Gokudera couldn’t help but close his eyes, breathing in the fresh and sweet scent. Of course, the moment was instantly ruined when Tsuna tugged his sleeve.

“Not the river, that!”

Gokudera squinted his eyes to get a better look at what Tsuna was actually pointing at before his stomach sank. He was already two steps ahead of what his friend was thinking and he did not like it. “No, Tsuna,” he said. “We’re not picking here.”

“But, Gokudera,” Tsuna said, tugging his sleeve, “this is perfect.”

“This is also what Reborn probably wanted in the first place. Just let it go.”

“Gokudera!”

“I don’t care if I’m going to be your sous chef but I want to at least have a year with no crazy shit happening.”

Tsuna rolled his eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, princess. This isn’t a vacation. Besides, weren’t you the one who told me that competition was great for business?”

Gokudera sputtered at the nickname. “Princess? Listen, you little shit, you’re the idiot who got into this in the first place. I came here because you get into more trouble than it’s worth.”

Tsuna grinned cheekily and patted Gokudera’s cheek. “Aww, I love you too, Gokudera. But this is my restaurant and I want it right here. Owner's privileges!”

“Tsuna!”

Ignoring him, the brunet left to find any available building up for lease. Gokudera helplessly watched his turned back before looking over the bridge.

Sole di Sinclair. 

It was one of the Sinclair family’s fucking restaurants.

“Okay, you can take them off now.”

“This better be worth the goddamn stairs,” Colonnello muttered.

Tsuna just snickered. When Gokudera took off his blindfold, he could barely believe what he was looking at. The Arcobaleno also gaped at the gorgeous space in front of them. Tsuna had transformed the bare building into a modern, beautiful Italian restaurant. Tables covered with creamy white tablecloth were arranged near the large windows, which overlooked the lovely Meguro River, and had slim vases of beautiful, red amaryllis in the center. The chandeliers also reflected brilliantly from the ceiling.

“This looks wonderful, Tsuna-kun,” Luce said, breaking the silence.

Skull rubbed his eyes. “Damn.”

Gokudera thought the same.

Colonello whistled under his breath. “You really outdid yourself, kid. Hey, wanna design my restaurant, too?”

“I second that,” Lal Mirch said.

“You have good taste, Tsuna,” Viper said, feeling the tablecloth. “Monte Catini. Impressive.”

Reborn nodded in approval. “Not bad.” Which was his way of saying “you did great and I love you”, according to Tsuna’s “Reborn dictionary”.

Tsuna scoffed but still looked proud of himself. It nearly took everyone’s breath away when he grinned. Those goddamn flowers and sparkles still stuck after all these years. “Well, duh! It’s me after all. Come on, there’s more. The lounge is this way.” Gokudera suppressed a smile when Tsuna tugged Reborn’s hand. “I think you’ll like the bar, Reborn. Do you want some wine? Viper was nice enough to give me some of his.”

“You still need to pay your bill,” Viper said.

Tsuna pouted. “It takes time to make money. You know that better than anyone else. Besides, blame Reborn. This was his idea anyways.”

“You clearly enjoyed the project so far,” Reborn said with a small smirk.

“It was fun,” Tsuna said, smiling. “Wine anyone?”

Everyone voiced their agreement and followed him to the bar. Gokudera nearly jumped when Tsuna bounced to his side. “What do you think?” he said.

“It’s fucking fantastic.” 

Tsuna grinned. “Good.”

Opening day was extremely hectic, but Gokudera and Tsuna got into the groove of things quickly. With only two of them, it was easy for them to handle a large restaurant on their own thanks to Tōtsuki’s hellish training, but that wasn’t how a restaurant functioned. Orders constantly poured in the kitchen as customers filled up the tables. The only other people they hired was Hana, who was proving to be an excellent floor manager and took shit from no one, and some waiters.

Tsuna surprised Gokudera two days after by hiring a handful of line chefs. He brushed it off by saying that Gokudera should at least have “some poor people to bark orders at”. Well, it was a nice stress-reliever—if the fucking idiots knew anything about kitchen work. God, now Gokudera knew how Shamal felt and he secretly swore to treat the man to some nice wine later because holy shit it was just stressful.

“Basil, what the hell is going on with those clams?” Gokudera said, handing a dish to Tsuna.

“Five more minutes, Chef!” the young man said, glancing at him nervously.

“That’s what you fucking said five minutes ago! They better be here in the next second! Fuuta, where are we on the risotto?”

The chef rushed to Gokudera’s side with a plate of hot risotto. “It’s here, Chef!”

Gokudera took one look at the plate and scowled. “What the fuck is this?” It looked too thick, like sticky rice. “Did you fucking throw up in the pan, you dumbass? This isn’t a fucking risotto!” He tasted it with a spare spoon and made a face. “Why is it so sweet? You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“One cotoletta alla Bolognese and two brasato for table 12!” Tsuna read off from another order. “Where the fuck is the order for table 3? It’s been 10 minutes already.”

“This piece of shit fucked up the risotto!” Gokudera said, glaring at the pale Fuuta. “Better make it right this time or you’re fucking dead! Castello di Vicarello, my goddamn ass, you belong in the fucking trash, Fuuta!”

He shoved the plate in the chef’s hands who immediately ran back to his station. His eyes narrowed when he heard a loud clatter in the pantry. “Haru, I swear to fucking God, if you spilled anything, I’m going to kill you!”

“Hahi! I'm sorry, Chef!"

“I want to kill Reborn,” Tsuna said, his voice muffled through a piece of bread.

Gokudera struggled to pour a cup of water. “Tell me something else new.”

They were sitting at the bar after lights out; the bustle of the city sounded from outside, filling the peaceful silence with a low buzz in the background.  Tsuna yawned. “How many days has it been?”

“It’s only been a week.”

“Roar.” Tsuna groaned. “I want to go home.”

“Then go.”

Tsuna wrinkled his nose. “I meant Namimori. It’s been months since I saw Mama. And I don’t know what I’d do if I go back to Reborn’s place. Do you think he might be sleeping?”

“Think who is sleeping?”

Gokudera yelped, barely managing to catch his falling cup. Tsuna squeaked and nearly fell off his chair if Reborn hadn’t caught him. The brunet groaned, but didn’t move away from Reborn’s strong arms; instead, he rested his head against the man’s chest. “You made a spare key, didn’t you?”

Reborn smirked. “Of course.”

“I’m never drinking again. Never.”

“You made the bet, not me.”

“Yeah, and I was drunk. That’s cheating.”

“You’ve been with me long enough to know how I work.”

“I hate that you think like me." 

“I think better than you do.”

Gokudera rolled his eyes while they continued to banter; their subtle threats—well, subtle on Reborn’s part—slowly escalated until Tsuna’s phone rang. He took one look at the caller ID and turned it off, shoving it back in his pocket. Gokudera raised a brow. That was odd. Tsuna never refused calls, even if they were scams; he’d try to confuse the other person on the line by making ridiculous corny puns, and it worked since they usually hung up first.

“It’s only been a week and I want to arrange your funeral,” Tsuna said without missing a beat. 

“Only a week? And don’t you mean our funeral?”

“Don’t you understand the meaning until death do us apart? I’ll finally be free from you when you’re six feet in the dirt.” 

Reborn smirked. “And I thought you wanted to go slow and steady.”

The brunet blushed a bit. “You know what I mean, you asshole.”

“I’d take you down with me so you won’t be lonely in your coffin then.” 

“Did you not hear w—That is one of the most morbid things I’ve ever heard. You’re crazy.”

“You’ll learn to love it eventually.”

“Don’t drag me into it,” Gokudera deadpanned.

“You’re a terrible friend. You’re supposed to have my back.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Tsuna huffed. Taking a look at the clock, he sighed. “I just want to sleep and never wake up. Do you have aspirin at home?” 

“Yes,” Reborn said. “Let’s go, Tsuna. You have to open in the morning.”

“Don’t remind me. Gokudera, you don’t mind closing up?”

Gokudera shook his head. “Nope. You two have fun.”

A predatory gleam glinted in Reborn’s eyes. “We will.”

Gaping, Tsuna struggled when Reborn carried him easily out the door. “Gokudera, I’m going to kill you! I’ll skin you alive and burn your guts! Please, Reborn, I need aspirin and sleep! Please? I’m going to run away and never come back! Gokudera!”

Said man just sipped his water and closed his eyes. The elevator dinged in the distance, finally signaling the couple’s departure, as Tsuna’s screams slowly faded. 

Ah. Finally.

Peace and quiet.

A few weeks or so passed and nothing much changed in the kitchen. Sure, the line cooks had talent but they still fucked up some dishes that Gokudera wondered how he hadn’t blown up yet. Tsuna was practically dead on his feet and subjected him to the silent treatment. It was infuriating but Gokudera was already used to his childish antics. He’d come around eventually. Although, Tsuna looked so uncomfortable whenever he sat down that it almost made Gokudera feel bad. Almost.

“Brina, how could you fuck up goddamn ravioli? Where’s the cheese?”

“I—I’m sorry, Chef!” the blonde woman said, taking back the dish. “I’ll fix it right away!”

“Chef!” I-pin said, entering the kitchen. “Four pumpkin-gingersnap tiramisu, seven white peach tart slices, and three almond cake with pears and crème anglais for table 27!”

Gokudera and even the line chefs stared at the waitress in bewilderment. “Holy fuck, does he want to be a diabetic?”

I-pin helplessly shrugged. “He also said he wants them to come out one at time within a five-minute interval.”

“Goddamn idiot!” Gokudera threw his towel on the counter and marched out of the kitchen. “Basil, take over!”

“Y—Yes, Chef!”

At least Basil was a bit more competent this time around. Gokudera ignored the customers’ stares as he walked towards a table further in the back beside the large windows. He opened his mouth to give the brunet a few choice words until he saw that Tsuna wasn’t alone. He let out a strangled cough when he saw the other occupant of the table. Pink hair, green eyes, some fancy blouse and slacks. “B—Bianchi?”

His sister grinned. “Hayato!” Gokudera had no time to react when she stood up and flung her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. “I missed you so much, fratellino!” [Little brother]

“W—What are you doing here?” he responded in Italian.

Bianchi’s face instantly soured when she looked at Tsuna, who was watching them with an unnervingly blank gaze. “I came here to talk with this stronzino.” [Little asshole]

“I can understand every word you’re saying, you know,” Tsuna said in impeccable Italian.

Bianchi just glared at him. “You don’t deserve to speak it. You’re ruining the language.”

Tsuna smirked. “That’s not what Renato said when he taught it to me.”

“You also don’t deserve to say his name!”

“Woman, I’m his boyfriend.”

Gokudera sweat-dropped. “Um, guys—”

“Stay out of it, Hayato!"

“Stick your nose in someone’s else’s asshole!”

Tsuna sniffed as he crossed his legs. “My tiramisu’s supposed to be here by now. Why don’t you skedaddle and get it for me, Gokudera?”

Bianchi narrowed her eyes. “How dare you treat my brother like that?”

“I’m the Head Chef here and he’s my sous chef.” Tsuna eyed her up and down distastefully. “Of course, someone of your caliber would never know what it’s like in a real kitchen.”

Gokudera immediately ran away when his sister nearly exploded with a rush of colorful curses and oh God, was she threatening to castrate Tsuna? He could hear the two of them screaming behind him, though it was mostly Bianchi doing the yelling. Hana was at the front looking like she swallowed a bee. She was definitely going to get a raise.

Grabbing the towel he threw before, Gokudera addressed the other cooks, “Okay, we’re going to pretend that nothing is happening. So, get your shit together and cook like your life depends on it!” 

“Yes, Chef!”

“Haru, you better make the best goddamn desserts of your life in the next hour or so help me God, I will strangle you!” 

“Hahi! Yes, Chef!”

There were many instances when Gokudera considered calling Reborn, but he always chickened out because this was obviously between Tsuna and Bianchi and he didn’t think his friend would appreciate him calling his boyfriend. Huh. Now that he thought about it, Tsuna never really said that Reborn was his boyfriend out loud before.

Oh God, was that why Bianchi came here? To settle her (one-sided) love with Reborn once and for all? Honestly, it was pretty stupid and Gokudera hoped Tsuna would knock her down a peg or two. She was a nice person but tended to get very distracted if she didn’t get what she wanted. Why did it have to be Reborn though? What the hell happened to Romeo?

Oh. Right.

He wasn’t going to think about that.

Hana poked her head in the kitchen and beckoned him over. “The monkey lady is leaving. She wants to see you.”

Gokudera took in a deep breath and followed her outside. He quickly checked Tsuna, relieved to see that he was unharmed and keeling over from his sister’s poisonous cooking. He hoped the brunet never let her touch any of his desserts.

“Hayato!” Bianchi said, smiling. “I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up! We’re going home!”

Gokudera blinked. “What?”

“Mama and Papa miss you so much and Shamal also agreed that he’d let you take over the kitchen. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Wait, what?”

He looked at Tsuna who just shrugged. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. By the way, the crust on the white peach tart was too crunchy.”

“I’ll…let Haru know. Wait, Bianchi, what are you talking about?”

Bianchi just smiled, clapping her hands together. “Papa agreed to open a restaurant for you in Italy. Isn’t that wonderful? It’s already under construction and will take a month until it’s finished.”

“Bianchi… I’m not going back to Italy. I’m staying here.”

A scary gleam shone in her eyes but her smile never faltered. “Oh?” She glared at Tsuna. “Are you holding my little brother hostage, Sawada?”

Tsuna didn’t look fazed at all. “Free will is a thing, woman.”

“Let’s talk about this later, Bianchi, okay?” Gokudera said quickly. “I need to go back in the kitchen and you’re disturbing the restaurant.”

Bianchi scowled. “This place won’t last while I’m here. I have connections and I’m going to tear this building to the ground. Mark my words, Sawada!”

Tsuna gasped in mock-horror. “Oh, no, whatever shall I do? Hmm, well, at least I can run back to Renato’s arms if that ever happens.”

“Stop saying his name!”

“Renato, Renato, Renato, Renato—”

Bianchi threw her arms up in the air. “Ugh!” She jabbed Gokudera’s chest with her finger. “You will come back to Italy, fratellino. I swear it!”

She left the restaurant in a huff, her heels clacking angrily againt the marble floors. Gokudera just stood there, not knowing what to do. “I’m sorry about my sister,” he finally said. “She can be overbearing but she’ll come around.”

Tsuna waved him off. “Oh, I don’t care about that. She’s nuts but I dealt with worse.”

“Seriously though, did she just come all the way here to talk about Reborn?”

“Well, half of it was about him and the other half was about their future marriage. So, yeah. I guess you can say that.”

Gokudera frowned. “Aren’t you concerned at all? Bianchi doesn’t pull her punches at all.”

“I have Fon for that if that happens.”

Gokudera sighed. “You know what I mean, Tsuna. Don’t pull that crap.”

Tsuna rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, geez. She really can’t do anything to the restaurant since I have immunity.”

Gokudera narrowed his eyes. “Immunity? What are you talking about?”

“I really wanted to do this later. Actually, never, but wow, your sister was kind of unexpected. Anyways, what I meant is that this restaurant is under the Vongola name. So even if she tried to pull anything, Vongola will probably crush her little business and your father’s—no offense, it’s just how they roll—so yeah. That’s the kind of immunity we have. Great, isn’t it?”

“Tsuna…you said Vongola…”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Vongola, as in the largest culinary chain in the industry Vongola…”

“Yes.”

“Literally on the top of the food chain…”

Tsuna sighed irritably. “Yes. That Vongola. Unless you thought I meant the clams.”

Gokudera could barely breathe. “How the hell did you manage to put this in their name?”

The brunet shifted a little. “Uh, got a call from daddy dearest and it sort of happened?”

“Your father works in Vongola?”

“Yes…? Well, he’s Nono’s adviser—CEDEF or whatever it’s called—but—”

Gokudera felt like tearing his hair apart. “Why don’t I know this?”

“Because it never came up. Besides, I’m going to give this restaurant to you when the year’s up. I don’t want anything to do with them.”

Gokudera paled. “What?”

Tsuna smiled innocently as he skipped towards the back. “Oh, look at that. The kitchen is barely functioning. Let’s go, Gokudera.”

“Tsuna…” 

“I-pin, I’ll take over the orders from now! Thank you!”

The waitress smiled. “Of course, Chef!” 

“Tsuna!”

Tsuna just ignored him and disappeared behind the large door. Sighing, Gokudera ran a hand through his hair. Still, his lips twitched into a small smile as he eventually followed Tsuna back into the kitchen.