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chef ! taiju x yakuza leader ! takemichi
the kitchen, usually a place of warmth and creation, now crackled with an electric tension. taiju stirred the pot, the rich aroma of simmering broth filling the space. every movement was precise, every slice of the knife an act of devotion. his mind, however, was far from the task at hand, lost instead in thoughts of the man who had given his life meaning, purpose, and a dark, twisted obsession — his queen, or king, takemichi.
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the night had been a storm of violence and rage. taiju had been at the mercy of his siblings, their cruelty a sharp blade against his fragile spirit. their hatred for him was palpable, a vicious thing born from taiju's abuse over the years of their youth, the hatred for him was born from his own mistakes. they were powerful in their world of crime, but to them, taiju was nothing but a disappointment, a stain on the name the two made for themselves.
that night, they had taken it too far, deciding that his life was no longer worth preserving. the beating had been brutal, and taiju had barely clung to consciousness, blood pooling beneath him, his breaths shallow and labored. he had resigned himself to death, a release from the hell that was his existence. what he had been put through was just the building up anger and wrath that had been swirling around the deepest depths of their minds, scared by relentless abuse.
but then, he appeared. takemichi appeared.
he was a force of nature, sweeping into the room with an aura that demanded submission. his blue eyes enchanted his sight with the most beautiful abyss took in the scene with cold fury, and at that moment, Alessandro's parents knew fear. They were her enemies, but they hadn't expected her to strike so swiftly, so decisively.
he had them killed without hesitation, his voice a velvet command that sent shivers down taiju's spine. when he turned to him, his gaze softened—just a fraction. he could have ended him then, discarded him as easily as he had his parents. but instead, he offered him a lifeline.
"do you cook?" he had asked him, his voice low and smooth like velvet.
taiju, barely able to speak, nodded. it was the one skill he had that no one would be able to take away from him.
