3. Cooking Poison (1/2)

disclaimer: i don't own any of akira-sensei's characters. though this plot is mine.

cooking and baking calms tsuna down.

it's one of the best things he's able to do without screwing too much while growing up with terribly wobbly knees and clumsy legs.

"you're still clumsy to this day, tsu-kun." nana would remind him after he knocked over the bowl of flour.

"i guess so." tsuna would smile knowingly and scratch the back of his head, his cheeks blooming with red as he blushed, before cleaning up the mess he made.

nana giggled at her flour covered son. "that's alright. tsu-kun's still the best no matter what."

tsuna would beam after that. the laughter of mother and son ringing in the air.

in the kitchen, tsuna becomes someone different.

"hayato." tsuna's dark voice and blazing orange eyes looks ready to kill.

"i swear! i didn't see anything! i won't even

eathe a word!" gokudera hayato, right-hand man of vongola's tenth don, had never been scared shitless in his entire life.

no, not even when his life was on the line nor even when they went to the future that never was.

what he's witnessing right now though, is sure to haunt his dreams. forever.

all becausethat

avado called courage only lasted until he stumbled to the kitchen in the middle of night, and saw his boss creatingsomethingthat melted through the customized pot of vongola quality and still sizzling down the hole that it made on the tiled floor.

'i-is he practicing poison cooking!?!' hayato wanted to faint at that very moment.

he could already hear lambo's evil laugh, the

at would get bombed later, because the stupid cow told him of the wandering ghost in the kitchen when the clock struck twelve.

only that he found something, someone, more dangerous than a ghost.

"seriously, why do you guys keep interrupting me?" tsuna's flames flared in irritation. the dangerous eyes of the usually calm and tempered don narrowed further to emphasize his point."do make sure that you won't tell, hayato. i don't want to add my subordinate's ashes to rest within the garden."

hayato's head couldn't have bobbed fast enough that tsuna had to internally wince if his friend would get his head torn off from doing that to himself.

hayato got sick come morning and was hallucinating of poison and melting pots.

on tsuna's defense, he was stressed. and really, how could he have known that he looked like he'd fillet the bomber last night?

still, that day, vongola learned not to visit the kitchen if they hear their don humming from it. especially while midnight.

it was further cemented to what little was left of their self-preservation instincts when mukuro came out of the kitchen, flinching at the site of frying pans.

cooking took focus that is similar to entering hyper dying will mode, but more in the sense of feeding someone than choking their necks. it's also a great warning factor.

"t-tsuna?" takeshi flinched when his boss gave an especially hard chop to the head of the tuna fish.

that tuna was actually what squalo gave his boss for today's seafood preparation. a fish that's supposed to be hard to butcher without any help, but seeing how the amicable

unet ripped off the thing and lobbed the meat, cutting through bone, takeshi realizes he had to get out of there. now.

"takeshi, do give chase to the squirming octopus beside you. that's going to be in the menu for tonight." tsuna called to the sneaking, and failing, swordsman.

"ahahaha. sure thing, tsuna." sweat trickled down takeshi's back at how emotionless that request sounded to his ears.

looking around, he saw the squirming octopus. on the chopping board. pinned down by a sharpened knife. missing all eight limbs and still alive.

"how is it still alive?" takeshi whispered, horrified and pale. "and how could it possibly run away if it's caged down with knives around it?"

"hmm? did you say something, takeshi?" the humming stopped after the

unet pierced through the crab's hard shell with a resounding crack. takeshi had to fight off a wince.