A Hitwoman's Blossom Viewing (A KHR Fanfiction)

Prologue

It all started in that one letter from Japan.

Rome is bustling as always, a lady thought as she pushes through the crowd, easily blending in with her work suit and heels. Although, her gray hair shimmers under the heat of the sun of Rome, Italy, almost looking like molten silver making tourists, locals turn their heads to the owner of that rare hair.

They only seem to get more intrigued to see that she has a pair of fierce purple eyes that seem to cut edges of anyone who dares to look back. A little kid passed by her and smiled brightly, as if she knows the lady. The lady only nodded but the kid seems happy that he was noticed.

Finally, when the lady reached her rendezvous. A lamp post near the bakery that her boss loves. Whenever he sets the meeting point here, it only means that he wants to her to bring his favorite. She sighed and looked around. The car that was going to service her wasn't here yet so she can go ahead, she guessed.

The lady opened the bakery and immediately met the savory scent of bread and steak around her. She let herself wallow in the scent, breathing in silently and smiling to herself as a familiar voice calls her out.

"Mia signora, benvenuta! È passato così tanto tempo!" The baker greeted with smiles and open arms.

(My lady, welcome! It has been so long!)

The gray-haired lady nodded, facing the wide baker. "Sì. È bello vederti bene, Antonio." Her whimsical voice rang around the quiet bakery. It puts everyone at ease, like how her voice seems to whisper to you and say sweet nothings as she lulls you to sleep.

(Yes. It is nice to see you well, Antonio.)

The baker chortled as his bushy moustache seems to wiggle as he laughed. His eyes gleamed as he noticed the lady looking at a particular bread on his case. He understood instantly what is this sudden visit is.

"Allora ti prenderò il solito?" He asked.

(Shall I get you the usual then?)

The lady nodded. "Sí. Grazie." With that she let herself wander around the familiar bakery with ease.

(Yes. Thank you.)

The bakery that she went to every time she wants a taste of her hometown. The baker had a Japanese wife, who was the owner of this lovely establishment. However when a disease took her life, the bakery closed for a year. The lady was sad that she thought she won't be able to taste the bread of her home but the husband, the current baker, decided to keep his wife's legacy continue and taught himself how to bake and how to get the same taste of his wife's baking. It took him thousand of times to redo it then finally he did and called the lady to be the first one to taste his bread.

When the lady ate the baker's Japanese Milk Bread, she was almost set to tears. The bread tasted like how she remembered it, maybe even better!

Since then, the baker continues on and the lady always eats the bread that he gives whenever she comes to visit.

"Ecco qui! Una pagnotta di focaccia, un'insalata, e ho anche messo una mezza pagnotta del tuo preferito." He listed as he walks towards her with a full paper bag on his arms.