Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! is the rightful property of Amano Akira. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine.

I asked for ideas for one shots on my LJ a while back... and the idea for this multi-chapter fic emerged. Thanks to azurecerulean for the original idea, to celen for proofreading this monster, and to my flist for helping me research a bunch of little details.


Chapter One

"This is the very last one?"

"Yes, Boss. That should just about wrap things up."

Dino managed to suppress the sigh of relief that threatened to escape from his lips as he crouched down to pick up the last box from the bottom shelf of the storage shed, but the grin on Romario's face told him that the effort he'd made to hide his relief had been for nothing. Carefully rising back to his feet with the heavy box securely in his grasp, Dino shot a grin back at Romario and headed for the door of the shed, mindful of the soft, melodic sound of glass hitting glass within the box in his arms. Romario waved back at him distractedly and walked over to the small work bench in the corner of the shed, on top of which rested a thick, battered-looking notebook.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Dino called, adjusting himself until the box in his arms was resting against his chest.

"No, just got to make a note of the final stock count for the records and then I'll join you," Romario called back without taking his eyes off the notebook. "You go ahead and tell your father that we're ready to go, Boss."

"Alright. Thanks, Romario," Dino said with an appreciative grin, before kicking the shed door open all of the way and stepping outside.

It felt good to finally step out of the dusty, humid shed and into the early morning air. Despite the fact that his arms were already straining from the weight of the box in his arms, Dino paused to take in a lungful of clean Spring air before continuing on, shoes sinking into the soft soil beneath his feet. He'd spend the majority of the past three hours in the shed, and Dino was now free to relish in the cool morning breeze and the sight of the sun rising over his family's orchard. The ground beneath his feet was still damp with dew, and even the grape vines were so covered with condensation that Dino could see them shimmering in the early morning light. He paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of one hand. The box he was carrying - full of bottles of wine ready for sale and worth enough money that dropping it would equal disaster - rattled precariously for a moment before falling silent as Dino once again wrapped both arms securely around it.

What he was carrying in his arms was his family's lifeblood. It felt strange to think of it in such an emotive way, but it was the truth. The box in his arms was filled with the wine made from the previous year's grapes, and everyone involved seemed particularly pleased with the results of their hard work. The Cavallone family had a long and proud history as wine makers, a tradition and livelihood that was passed down from father to son, from mother to daughter. It was their main source of income, the thing that had made their family so well-respected in the local area, and what had made their reputation great all the world over.

It may have been a tradition passed down through several generations, but it was also a passion, his father had told him since he was young. And now that he was almost in his twenties and his father was aging, Dino was right in the middle of learning to appreciate this passion, with the hope that he too would learn to love fine wine and loyal customers the way the rest of his family always had.

He exhaled slowly and shifted the box back to his other arm for the second time. He was passionate about his family's business, but he couldn't say that he enjoyed the early starts and manual labour quite as much as he enjoyed the quiet reviewing of their finances or the evenings he spent riding his horse, Scuderia, around the two empty blocks of land to their home's right. However, thanks to the annual fair, there would be no chance of relaxation until the late evening.

The Apocrifo Fair was the highlight of his family's calendar every year. It was their best source of local income, a chance to sell their creations to the patrons and gain the peoples' ovation for their skill and finesse. There was, of course, the wine contest on which their family had first built their local notoriety, but in addition to that, there were livestock and agricultural contests. The family's secondary sources of income - horses and oranges - would be on show too, and Dino and Romario would be in charge of those two things respectively. Dino's father, as always, would be in charge of the wine.

Dino rounded the back right corner of the house and grinned when he saw his father. Alessandro Cavallone was leaning against the side of the house, watching the truck they'd hired to take their product to the fair with an oddly specific look of apprehension that Dino only saw him wear around the time of the fair. It was understandable, though; the pressure to please their customers was immense, as was the need to uphold their reputation. This was the first time Dino had seen his father since breakfast, and he looked about as tired as Dino felt.

Alessandro glanced over at his son, and gave him a tired smile. Dino freed one hand to wave to his father, and immediately proceeded to almost drop the box he'd been carrying. He struggled to keep a hold of it for a moment, but managed to steady himself. He quickly decided that the best course of action was to walk to the truck and pack the box inside of it before he dropped it.

"This is the last one, Father."

"Excellent. You managed to organise everything quickly this year. And there were less damaged goods."

Dino looked as if he didn't know how to react to that, so he decided to ignore his father's teasing with little more than a sheepish look. Alessandro was still smiling as Dino put the box in the back of the truck. Once it was safely positioned against the rest of the boxes and crates, Alessandro walked around to the front of the truck and returned with the driver, who promptly jumped into the back of the truck to double-check that everything was ready to go. Once he re-emerged, he shut the back door of the truck's cargo hold behind him and gave Alessandro an affirmative nod.

"Now the only thing left to do is to get the horses into their trailer."

"We put them in the closest paddock for a run this morning, so hopefully they've used up some of their energy," Dino said. "I can go get them if you like."

Alessandro briefly stretched both of his arms over his head and yawned before refocusing. "I'll come with you."

"You don't have to..." Dino started, but Alessandro had always started walking towards him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dino. It will be easier with both of us. Besides, I've finished what I had to do before setting off."

"And you haven't taken the chance to rest?" Dino questioned, and Alessandro scoffed.

"Too much left to do, Dino. Too much."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Dino said quickly. "I'm not going to slack off, and I don't expect you to do it either, Father."

"Then what did you mean?"

"You've been doing this every year for the past decade and a half, and you've been teaching me how to handle fair day for half that time..."

"... and there's no reason for me not to keep doing it."

"I'm not trying to upstage you."

"I know that. But there's no need to worry about me, even if this is one of the most stressful times of the year. I've gotten through plenty of them before now."

Dino nodded in agreement, but inside he was still just a little bit worried for his father. He had always been the strongest person Dino had ever known in so many ways - body, mind and personality to name a few - but his father was bordering on his fiftieth birthday, and he had started noticing the little things about him that he had never seen before. The stiffness in his joints, the slower pace at which he had started moving, the streaks of grey forming in his dark hair and the deep wrinkles forming around his eyes. His father was still only middle aged, but years of performing manual labour in the vineyard and around the farm had made him seem infinitely older.

That was his main reason for wanting to be more involved in the family business. He may not have been as skilled or as passionate as his father about the winery, but he could always learn his secrets, ask him questions that years and generations of knowledge would answer. And that way, he would keep the family's tradition alive. But until his father was willing to retire, he was not willing to try and force his father into handing the family business over to him.

Dino stifled a laugh and shook his head as he watched his father walk into the small stables near the house and reach pointedly for the horses' equipment, as if he could read his mind and was offended by the very notion that he couldn't run the farm as well as he used to. Truth be told, if his father had known he was worrying so much, he probably would have given Dino an earful for being so concerned about nothing.

Alessandro looked over his shoulder as he retrieved all of the tack they'd need for the show, a questioning look on his face. "Something wrong?"

"No, nothing," Dino replied, feeling slightly more energetic now that he'd spent more time outside of the musty wine cellar. "Let's get Baracca and Scuderia ready before they get too overexcited."

Both horses were almost in the exact same place that Dino had left them that morning; Scuderia was still standing against the paddock's gate, looking peaceful but alert and enjoying the morning sunshine. When Dino and Alessandro came into view, he walked over and followed them along the fence line and back to the gate. Dino reached up and gave Scuderia a firm pat on the neck, and his father passed him Scuderia's halter and lead rope. Ensuring that Alessandro was busy trying to handle his own horse, Dino reached into his pocket and withdrew a slightly crumbly apple he'd managed to pocket that morning at breakfast. He held it out for Scuderia, and watched with amusement as his offering was practically inhaled. Scuderia proved to be in an agreeable mood. He tended to be a bit of a handful when he was worked up, but Dino was able to slip the halter onto his face with ease after that little bit of bribery.

Dino glanced over the top of Scuderia's back to see how his father was faring, and couldn't help but grin at what he saw. His father had managed to get Baracca under control, but the horse didn't seem particularly happy about it, and seemed to be venting his frustration through several rough nudges of the nose against his master's shoulder. Alessandro shooed him away patiently and finished fastening his halter, and Baracca conceded defeat and allowed Alessandro to lead him out of the paddock.

"Is Scuderia ready to go?"

"Just got to put his halter on," Dino confirmed, watching as Scuderia swallowed the last of his treat. Alessandro cast a suspicious look at his son.

"He was chewing something."

An innocent shrug and smile. "He must have been grazing."

"Indeed," Alessandro said, not looking as if he believed the story at all. "Come on, let's get these two loaded up."

Dino slipped Scuderia's halter and lead rope on, and then followed his father to the front of their home. Baracca was loaded first, and Dino let Scuderia walk around while the older horse settled into the trailer. Once his father gave him an affirmative nod, he gently guided Scuderia away from the corner of the house - he'd been sniffing at the vines growing between the bricks in a curious manner - and loaded him into the trailer.

"And that's that done," Alessandro said. "Guess there's no point in delaying it any longer. Once Romario gets here and we all get changed into something cleaner, we'll be going."

"Alright then," Dino replied, rubbing the last of the tired feeling from his eyes with the back of his hand and smiling. "I'm ready to go. Let's make this the most successful fair yet."

Alessandro couldn't hold back his smile at his son's enthusiasm as he watched him walk back into the house.


The local fair had been something to look forward to for Dino for as long as he could remember. He could still recall the first time he'd been old enough to accompany his mother and father; the plethora of different smells and sounds coming from every direction, the tight grip his father and mother maintained on each of his hands to prevent him from wandering off alone, the sight of so many other people going from one attraction to the next, usually dragged along by an enthusiastic looking child. It had left a lasting impression on him, as young as he was, and the day had been so memorable in the end that he hadn't even minded waiting until the contests his parents were participating in had ended. At the end of the day, Dino had helped Romario and the farmhands pack up their unsold products, move their livestock into their trailers and carry his parents' purchases to their waiting car. He'd thought he was helping at the time, but now that he'd grown up, he realised he had probably been harming their efforts at an efficient clean-up rather than helping.

Now that he was older and the childish enthusiasm had died down, he'd started to enjoy the fair for different reasons. Once the difficult few early morning hours were gone, the day of the fair was effectively a day free of any other work. There was too much to do, too many places to be at once. The local fair was a busy time for their family, busy enough that he was mainly left to his own devices for the day, save for the contests he had to be present for in place of his father, who always prioritised the wine contests above everything else. The second reason that he looked forward to the fair was that it always put his father in a good, if slightly overconfident mood. Dino couldn't recall a single year in which their vintage had not been received favourably or not sold well. His father was always friendly, but the fair seemed to add an extra level of enthusiasm to his actions that Dino supposed he'd never really comprehend.

"Crowds are looking good this year. Some of the men have been here since before dawn to make sure everything would be running smoothly when the fair started," Romario commented, glancing at Alessandro and Dino in the rear view mirror of the car. Alessandro nodded vaguely and stared out the window with a vacant expression on his face. Dino watched his father for a few moments, but ultimately decided to keep his silence; his father only clammed up like this when something particularly irritating was on his mind. Romario, however, had no problem with questioning his boss.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"I'm sure that I will be once the wine tasting is over," Alessandro said, fingertips drumming against the leather arm rest on the car door.

"May I ask why?"

"There's going to be a guest judge on the panel," Alessandro replied. "Or so a little bird has told me."

"I don't think that a single judge will make a difference," Dino said.

"He's right," Romario said as he turned into the small car park at the back of the show ground that was reserved for those who had to unload livestock. "You've managed to gain gold medals for your wine every year for almost twenty years, sir. I doubt that a single person would be able to sabotage our winning streak."

Alessandro's lips curled into a small smile. "I'm not concerned about the prospect of sabotage so much as I am concerned about the prospect of this judge having no taste in fine liquor."

Dino smiled weakly and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. You've received the highest score for the past twenty years. And that's not counting the awards that grandfather won."

Alessandro nodded slowly, and his smile remained steady. "I suppose you're right. There really is nothing to worry about."

"Now you sound too confident, Father," Dino replied with a grin.

"It's not a good idea to be overconfident, sir," Romario said. "If you act like we've already won before the contest has even started, people might actually start believing our rivals when they accuse the judges of bias."

Alessandro rolled his eyes, and Romario chuckled softly as he turned off the car.

Once Dino was out of the car, he took a deep breath, simultaneously refreshing his senses and taking in the familiar, earthy smells of the Apocrifo Fair. Alessandro remained inside the car with Romario for a few minutes after their arrival. The tint on the car windows was heavy, but Dino could see that the two men were leaning towards one another, their lips barely moving as they discussed whatever they had deemed too confidential to share with him. Letting out a small sigh, Dino took a moment to stretch his legs before walking around to the back of the car and to the horse trailer. Scuderia's nose was poking through one of the small windows on the side of the trailer. Dino smiled and reached up to give Scuderia's muzzle a quick pat before unlocking the trailer door.

Dino decided that unloading Scuderia first was the best option; that way, there might be enough time for Romario and his father to finish their conversation, and he wouldn't have to attempt to unload Baracca from the truck alone. That didn't mean he was afraid of Baracca, or that he couldn't handle him - quite the opposite, in fact - but the simple fact of the matter was that Baracca tended to be slightly unpredictable around anyone but his father. He didn't like the idea of having to use the stockwhip to frighten Baracca either, and he certainly didn't want to resort to actually striking the poor animal. Dino would have taken Scuderia over Baracca a thousand times just to avoid Baracca's foul temper, even if Scuderia hadn't been his own pet.

He clambered up into the trailer and approached Scuderia slowly. Scuderia's ears twitched back and his tail swept back and forth, but he allowed Dino to step around him, unhook his halter and lead rope from the trailer and lead him outside. Dino reached up to rub his hand along the length of the horse's neck to calm him, and realised, with some relief, that his father and Romario had exited the car. Romario gave Dino a wordless wave that Dino returned, and then headed off in the direction of the stalls and booths that the locals used to sell their products.

"Ah, you started without me," Alessandro said, giving Scuderia a rough pat as Dino led him past. "It's still another hour until the contest, so I'll handle Baracca."

"Thanks," Dino replied, pausing to wait for his father. Baracca, obviously bothered by the crowds and foreign noises, tossed his head for a few moments when Alessandro tried to lead him but gradually calmed down. Dino took Baracca's lead rope from his father when it was offered to him and began leading both horses towards the makeshift stables at the back of the fairgrounds.

"Dino!"

Dino glanced over his shoulder at his father, and Alessandro shot him a confident smile.

"Good luck. We'll meet back here once the fair shuts down for the day."

"All right," Dino said, returning the smile before leading both horses away towards the stables to prepare them for being shown.

With any luck, he thought, his father would still be smiling that broadly once the day was done.


Alessandro considered himself to be a respectable, reasonable man. He'd worked hard to bring his family's winery further and further into the limelight ever since he'd inherited it from his father before him. He employed a multitude of workers, and expected them to work hard for him, but also knew that it was pointless to have hard workers if you didn't have their respect. So he treated them well, gave them breaks, let them know that they were valued as family instead of just an extra pair of hands. That didn't mean he was soft on his workers, of course; if they made a mistake, he made sure they knew better for the next time they attempted the job. He watched over the vinification process, made sure that the grapes were of the finest quality that their vineyards could possibly achieve, ensured that the winemaking process was followed correctly year after year, and made sure that all of the wines were treated and stored correctly in accordance to his specific aims for them.

He loved his family's legacy, loved all of his employees like family, and wanted them all to keep going from strength to strength together. However, the sad truth of the matter was that everyone got older, and he could feel the strain in his muscles and bones with greater clarity with every passing day. The other sad truth was that he didn't feel that his son was ready to handle the business on his own.

Dino had been a good kid that had grown into a good man so quickly that Alessandro wondered where the last nineteen years had gone. He was enthusiastic, patient, hard-working, passionate, fast-learning and practically everything else Alessandro could have ever hoped for in a successor and a son, but he wasn't quite up to running the entire estate by himself yet. If Alessandro had anyone to blame for that, it was himself; perhaps it was the fact that he'd unintentionally sheltered Dino in his youth and left his introduction to the business until he was in his teens, or perhaps it was the fact that he didn't feel the need to give up the job quite as soon as his own father had. Perhaps it was a little of both, but either way, Dino was not quite ready to be in charge of more than the smaller jobs, and it was hardly a desperate matter. It wasn't as if he was about to keel over and die from exhaustion, but he could tell that his body was no longer tolerating the physical side of the business as happily as it used to. Even the box full of wine he was currently carrying to the fair's wine-tasting contest felt heavier than the near-identical box he'd carried the year before. He hoped that this one would be received as well as the one from the previous year, too. If their record was anything to go by, it should at least net them a high recommendation and another healthy intake of money from the sales.

Alessandro sighed softly, and blew a stray strand of hair out of his face. Perhaps he was getting complacent in old age.

After what was supposed to be a short walk, made longer by the multitudes of people filling the showgrounds, Alessandro reached the large marquee that had been set up to house the wine contest. It was almost the same as every other year he'd been involved; the marquee was large, so clean and white that it looked out of place in the middle of the fairground. The marquee was easily the largest temporary building in the entire fair, thanks to the national and international popularity of the local winemakers. It was thanks to the reputation of the area that the town was able to gain attention from all over the world, and was able to afford such extravagance on an annual basis.

The air inside the tent was far more humid than the air outside, and Alessandro didn't mind. He liked this sort of feeling, enjoyed tension in the air that was so strong that it was practically palpable. It reminded him of his first contest, and this sort of atmosphere always made him feel more enthusiastic about the contest in the first place. It made him feel as if some of that youthful confidence was coming back to him.

Once he'd handed the samples of his product into the registration desk and received a familiar, confident grin from the girl who always assisted with the contest, he received his registration number and went to reserve a chair for himself in the spectator seating. He eventually decided on one just behind the VIP reserve row kept empty for the judges and esteemed guests, and he settled himself comfortably in it and waited for the contest to begin. The tasting was blind, but he knew the number that he'd been given with his registration, and he wanted to be there to hear the judges' comments and opinions.

When he'd first arrived at the marquee, he'd been a good forty-five minutes early. The seats gradually began to fill around him as the time passed, and just as Alessandro thought he'd get through the entirety of the contest without someone bothering him, he felt a rough hand on his shoulder and heard a shout of his name.

"Alessandro! How are you, old friend?"

Alessandro managed to get a slightly forced smile on his face and held his hand out for a handshake.

"Savino D'Angelo. How are you?"

"Can't complain, can't complain," the older man replied, shuffling into a spare seat in the row behind Alessandro's. "You in the contest this year?"

"Naturally," Alessandro said, his smile growing wider as the rather voluptuous woman sitting in the seat next to Savino's gave him an irritated look and shuffled to the opposite edge of her seat. "I assume you are too?"

"Yup. Gotta stay the course," Savino said. "Gotta get lucky one of these years."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Savino," Alessandro lied smoothly. Savino was a nice enough person, but he didn't have the same meticulous approach approach to viniculture as the serious growers in the area. Simply put, his idea of quality was cheap grapes grown in poor soil and then fermented into the most alcoholic brew possible.

"Ah, this year wasn't a good year. I was thinking of maybe packing up shop and moving somewhere down your way, where the conditions are better. The old Morelli place next to you still empty?"

"Empty as ever," Alessandro replied. "I think his son owns it now, but he's refraining from selling it for whatever reason. But the former Silvestri estate on the other side of that is still vacant."

"Not anymore," Savino replied. "Heard from the wife that it got bought up a few weeks ago."

"Really?" Alessandro said, unable to hide the tone of surprise in his voice. Savino's wife was the single biggest gossip, and he'd believe her word until he heard anything to the contrary. "That's news to me."

"Yeah, it only happened very recently. Would've cost the buyer a lot too, from what I heard. That's why I was hoping the Morelli place was up for sale. That place is more of a renovator's dream, if you get what I mean."

"Indeed. It's been empty for years," Alessandro commented vaguely. His mind was still running rampant with the revelation that the land two blocks down had finally been bought. Were they winemakers like their family? Were they planning to use the land for farming? More importantly... would they prove to be a threat to any of their business?

Alessandro frowned darkly. Savino seemed put off by his silence, and attempted to revive the conversation with an awkward cough.

"So... have you seen the guest judge for this year's contest yet? Doesn't seem to be one of the regulars. Couldn't recognise her by appearance."

"No, I haven't," Alessandro said, forcing himself to refocus on the matter at hand. "You know nothing about her?"

"Haven't seen her before, but she must be famous for something if she's the guest judge."

"Very few of the vineyards in this area are run by women. Maybe she's not from the area."

Savino sniffed. "Certainly didn't look that way."

"How so?"

"Looked Asian to me. Only saw her for a few seconds, but good Lord... the look she gave me almost made my heart stop..." Savino replied, before shifting nervously and glancing at Alessandro with unabashed guilt. "Perhaps that wasn't the right way of putting it."

Alessandro shrugged stiffly and turned back to the front of the marquee. He heard the start of Savino trying to salvage the conversation one more time, but a man walked to the front of the marquee, stood behind the microphone on the small stage and cleared his throat, abuptly ending all of the sounds of conversation from the audience.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the annual Apocrifo Wine Contest. Please welcome our usual judges... Leonardo Conti, Pietro De Luca, and Paola Mariani!"

All the regulars were certainly here. Leonardo Conti was a frail old man who had once owned a famous vineyard, and who prized tradition in wines. Paola Mariani was a woman about his age, who wrote the wine column for the local newspaper. Pietro De Luca was a man who was so round that he probably rolled when he tripped on an uneven surface, and had the red flush of a man who looked like he prized all wine a little too much, regardless of quality.

"And introducing our guest judge for this year... Mitsuru Hibari!"

Alessandro didn't recognise the woman at all, even with her name provided. Dark eyes, brown hair pulled back from her face by means of a tight bun that made her look years older than she probably was, clothing that suggested that she may have been unaware of the humidity the area experienced at this time of year. Shorter than average. It was only when she turned her gaze to the audience that Alessandro understood what Savino had been talking about; her expression was so severe that Alessandro was sure that the entire room had flinched beneath it.

"Signora Hibari is from a famous wine-making family in Japan, with a one hundred and fifty year tradition of viniculture dating back to the Meiji Restoration. The full list of her family's vintages can be obtained from the information stall at the back of the entertainment area of the fair after the contest," the announcer said smoothly. "Now, without further delay... the first contestant in the Nero D'Avola wines, please."

Alessandro looked down at the number in his hand; twenty-two. That particular type of grape was extremely important and popular within the winery industry in the area, so it stood to reason that there would be a large number of contestants.

He'd noticed two things fairly quickly. The first was that the regular judges were the same as always. That was the relieving part. The second thing was that Mitsuru Hibari appeared to be one of those people that was eternally unimpressed by everything offered to her. That was slightly more concerning.

"Contestant number nineteen," the announcer droned out after some time. The four judges were each offered glasses. They took them and took long, deep breaths of the liquid to try and pinpoint the aroma. They then took small sips of the red liquid, swirled it around in their mouths for a few moments and then spit it into the large bucket provided before being offered water. Unrefined as it was, it was the easiest way to judge a wine without becoming too drunk in the process.

"Bouquet is strong," Leonardo noted.

"The taste is rather heavy," Paola added.

"Leaves a hot taste on the palate," Pietro said.

"Utterly austere," Mitsuru said with a sniff. Her Italian was perfect, aside from the slightest accent. "Overly bitter to smell and taste."

"Ah, well," Savino whispered from behind Alessandro, holding up the contestant card marked with the number nineteen. "You can't win them all."

Alessandro nodded vaguely, but his focus was entirely focused on the contest. He wanted his product to impress. He didn't expect to get the highest score of the contest by default or anything of the sort, but he wanted his creations to do well and to live up to his reputation. And most of all, he wanted to impress the guest judge. Mitsuru Hibari had seemed unimpressed with everything that she had tasted so far - and Alessandro knew that some of the wines had been from reputable, even famous wineries thanks to the looks on a few specific faces - and he wanted to be the one to change her mind. If the announcer was to be trusted, she certainly had the qualifications to be judging... but he didn't see any reason for her taste to be so pedantic as to score every wine in the contest negatively. So far, she hadn't said a single positive thing about any of the entries, unless you counted 'tolerable' as high praise.

"Contestant number twenty-two," the announcer recited, and Alessandro did his best to look nonchalant. He knew he'd failed when Savino tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a knowing look.

The judges went through the usual, methodic, slightly uncouth process; sniff, sip, swirl, spit. The group savoured the flavours for a few moments afterwards, and two of the three, at least, looked impressed. Alessandro let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. That, at least, was a relief.

"A nice clean taste and aroma," Paola started, an impressed smile still on her lips.

"Quite charming," Leonardo agreed.

"The aftertaste is lingering a little too long," Pietro said, "though it isn't unpleasant. Rather sweet, in fact."

Mitsuru Hibari licked her lips once, and then curved them into an unimpressed frown.

"The aroma is blowzy. It is complex, but unbalanced. I find the plummy flavours to be unnecessarily aggressive and the peppery flavours to be too soft," she said. "If the flavour balance had been correct, the wine would have been much better. However... as it is, I find it amateur."

Alessandro frowned; wine was a matter of taste, as were all things in the world. However, he found himself to be annoyed with the guest judge's inability to like anything she tasted. Perhaps she was being picky for the sake of being picky, or being disagreeable to give the impression that her taste was more refined than that of the locals. He wasn't angry, but it would have been a lie to say that he wasn't irritated by Mitsuru Hibari's attitude. The others judges remained impassive; if they were unimpressed, they were extremely good at hiding it.

"Ah well. Not a good year for either of us, eh?" Savino said over Alessandro's shoulder, and he was sure that the whole fair would have been looking at them if the older man had spoken any louder. There were a few muffled whispers behind cupped hands and surprised looks focused upon him, but he chose to ignore them all and focus on the rest of the contest.

The tastings of the other thirteen contestants' wines went by quickly, and then came the deliberations. Alessandro stepped outside of the marquee to get some fresh air while the judges decided on who obtained gold, silver and bronze ranks respectively, as well as the best in show. The fair was getting more crowded still, and he could barely hear the echo of the announcements over the constant hum of the crowd.

"In a few minutes, we will begin our annual livestock contests. We will be starting with the Sanfratellano breed of horse..."

That meant that Scuderia and Baracca would soon be shown. Alessandro shut his eyes briefly, and hoped Dino's luck was better than his own.

After another ten minutes of standing outside the marquee, Alessandro headed back inside and stood behind the rows of chairs, having lost his seat by leaving while the judges reached their decision. Thankfully, it didn't seem that he'd have to wait too long for the results, because the announcer had already taken the stage.

"We will now announce the results of the wine contest," the man said. "Our guest judge, Mitsuru Hibari, will present the awards."

Mitsuru stepped forward, three plaques in her hands and an unimpressed look on her face.

"In third place, we have Angelo Amato."

The winner stepped forward to accept his plaque and his congratulatory remarks from the judges. Although Alessandro recognised him, he wouldn't have said that he was a name to watch out for.

"In second place, we have Alessandro Cavallone of Cavallone Estate."

Alessandro walked from the back of the marquee and to the small stage at the front, ignoring the crowd's chatter and the occasional surprised look. He shook hands with each of the regular judges, and then stood in front of Mitsuru Hibari to receive his plaque. She looked as if she was annoyed by the decision to give him a prize in the first place, and Alessandro made sure to put on his brightest smile in response.

"Congratulations," Mitsuru commented, lips finally curving into a smile, despite her eyes staying carefully void of emotion. Alessandro found it half amusing and half infuriating that she didn't bother with trying to hide her displeasure.

"Thank you," Alessandro replied, holding out his hand for Mitsuru to shake. After a few brief seconds, they let their awkward grip drop, and Alessandro left the stage to make way for the victor. He stayed out of politeness, but as the first place prize was awarded - to a newcomer with little experience in the field and without any highly positive reviews that Alessandro had seen - his focus remained entirely on Mitsuru Hibari. She still looked bored, practically angry with the results of the contest, as if she thought that none of the contestants had deserved much more than her criticism.

Alessandro smirked, tucked his silver plaque beneath his arm, and turned to leave before the rest of the crowd did. People could say what they wanted, but it had been a long time since he'd felt this way; the best word he could think to describe it was challenged. Frustrated, yes. Perhaps even a little hurt, and he felt an uncomfortable pang of pain in his chest as he remembered Savino's insensitive comments from earlier in the day. Perhaps other people would have found the experience humbling, but he found it just a little exciting too.

He would leave today behind him, and focus all of his attention on the next year's wine and ensure that it would be the best that it could be.


The day was coming to an end. Dino stifled a yawn with the back of his hand, his skin pricking from the late afternoon heat. Although the agricultural section of the fair had shut its doors for the day, he could still register the sounds of the fair's night life beginning to stir from his place in the stables. He could smell the local delicacies being cooked, and his stomach was protesting loudly about not being fed any of those delicacies throughout the course of the day. He could hear the excited shouts and squeals of the people riding the amusement rides, and he knew he'd probably be able to see the bright, flashing lights that they used to draw people in if he bothered to go and look. But for now, he would enjoy the relative peace and quiet of the stable while he enjoyed his first real break since dawn that morning, and wait for Romario or his father to come and tell him it was time to load the horses.

Baracca was still as energetic and twitchy as ever, though he had calmed down as the day had progressed. The ribbon that had been pinned to his elaborate show halter was now displayed on the door of his stall. Scuderia looked more tired than Baracca, but still reasonably alert. His ribbon was still pinned to his halter, as he had not objected to it as strongly as Baracca had. After all of the exhaustion associated with the day, Dino could at least say that their hard work had paid off. He smiled tiredly, leaned against the back wall of the stable and gave Scuderia a scratch behind the ears. Scuderia jerked away in surprise, apparently too tired to have realised that Dino had moved, but soon relaxed. Dino was almost nodding off when Romario stepped into the stable, carrying two spare boxes of oranges in his arms.

"Slacking off, Boss?"

"Not really," Dino said after a moment of pause, stifling a yawn behind the back of his hand. "It's not slacking off when there's nothing you're supposed to be doing."

"You could help us load what's left," Romario commented. Dino paused before pushing himself away from the wall to join the other man, and Romario smiled. "I was kidding, Boss. It's been a long day for all of us, and yours has been even longer than most."

"Don't worry, Romario," Dino said, "it's almost time for me to load Scuderia and Baracca. Father's probably waiting for us by now."

"... he is," Romario confirmed. He shifted uncomfortably, and Dino gave him a questioning look.

"What's wrong?"

"Your father isn't in a particularly good mood," Romario said. "Apparently, the score of one judge cost him the contest."

"What?" Dino said, mind blank with shock. Romario laughed, a bitter chuckle in the back on his throat.

"I think that my face looked about the same when I found out as yours does right now."

"And he's angry that he lost?" Dino questioned. "That doesn't sound like him at all. He's lost competitions before. He's not that arrogant."

Romario shook his head. "No, he's not arrogant enough to think he's guaranteed a gold medal ranking, even if he does have more reason to than most. And angry isn't the right word for it. He's... frustrated. But at the same time, I think he's happy."

"Alright then... why?"

"As you know, the wine was made with one of your mother's favourite techniques. He was trying to make a similar wine to the one they made the year they were married. It's only natural that he'd be sensitive about it. He scored favourably with all the usual judges, of course, despite the tasting being blind... but the guest's evaluation is what made him lose the gold. And the judge was not kind in her evaluation, either. From what I've heard, at least. Your father laughs me off when I try to talk about it, but I think it still stings a little."

Dino frowned at that. He knew that the wines his family created were good; their loyal fan base, excellent reviews and large amount of awards practically spoke for themselves. They were good enough to country-wide recognition, at the very least. But when it came down to it, everyone's taste was different. There was always a chance that you'd meet someone who didn't agree with your taste, and the Cavallone had gone for an admirable amount of time without encountering anyone who disagreed with their methods. The greatest concerns that came with a surprise loss were the financial ramifications.

"Did this year's vintage sell well today?"

"What you mean is, 'did this year's vintage sell well despite the loss', right?" Romario questioned, the corners of his lips twitching to show a brief smile.

"Of course," Dino responded, sounding far more serious about the situation than he felt. Scuderia shifted nervously next to him, and he reached out absently-mindedly run his hand along the horse's neck.

"Just as well as usual," Romario said with a shrug. Dino let out a sigh of relief, and Romario grinned.

"Happy about that?"

"Our fans are definitely creatures of habit," Dino replied. "Though that would probably make Father feel worse. He probably thinks the customers are pitying him."

"That's about the extent of it," Romario said, shrugging nonchalantly and shifting uncomfortably again. "If you don't mind, Boss, I'll take my leave here. These boxes are getting heavier the longer I hold onto them."

"Sorry, Romario," Dino said with a broad smile, and Romario snorted at him.

"If you looked as sorry as you sounded, Boss..."

"I am!" Dino insisted. Romario walked to the door of the stable and gave Dino an amused smirk from over his shoulder.

"You're still so easy to tease, Young Master."

Dino opened his mouth to respond, but Romario had already stepped through the stable door and out of his line of sight, his laughter echoing back over the sounds of the fair for just a moment before being drowned out. Dino sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before turning to Scuderia and Baracca.

"Come on, you two. I'm sure you like the idea of going home, too," he said, slipping into Scuderia's stall with a grin. "At least you can't tease me when I show concern for you, right?"

Scuderia stood obediently - or perhaps tiredly - while Dino untied the lead rope to his halter from his stall. Baracca was apparently too exhausted to protest the fact that someone other than Alessandro was handling him, and allowed Dino to untie his lead rope with little more than a shake of his head and an unimpressed flaring of his nostrils. Dino gave both horses a quick scratch and stifled another yawn. He would replace both horses' show halters with their normal ones when they returned home. He did, however, finally remove Scuderia's ribbon and pinned both it and Baracca's ribbon to the hem of his t-shirt. After doing a quick check to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, Dino opened the stall doors and led both horses towards the stable door.

Once they were out in the cool night air - a rather violent contrast to the stale, humid air of the stable - both horses seemed to perk up a bit. Baracca's began to move faster, and Dino firmly pulled back on his lead rope to prevent him from getting too far ahead. Baracca pulled back harder, and Dino lost his balance in his subsequent attempt to regain control of the animal. Scuderia jumped back in shock at the sudden movement, and that was enough to send Dino slipping into the mud and disturbed earth left by the crowds of people and animals that had crossed the soft grass.

Dino groaned, waited for a few seconds to give his head time to stop spinning, and slowly picked himself up off the ground. He hadn't sustained any serious injuries when he'd fallen, but it became clear when he stood up that his clothes, as well as the two ribbons, were almost unsalvageable.

"Damn it," Dino said, trying to keep the whining tone out of his voice. He brushed himself off as best he could, turned around and walked over to Scuderia to grab his lead rope. Baracca would be more difficult to recover; not only was he dark in colour and hard to see in the semi-light of dusk, but he had a habit of being far more flighty and temperamental than his brother. Dino squinted into the darkness, walking blindly for a few meters in every direction, feeling his heart crawl a little further into his throat with every passing minute that he didn't see Baracca. There were hoof prints everywhere in the mud, so he couldn't get a hint from that. He hadn't seen the direction Baracca had run. His father was a reasonable man, strict but fair in all of his judgements and dealings with mistakes. However, Dino was quite sure that if he'd lost the horse that doubled as the manor's best example of breeding stock and his father's favourite, he'd be in a lot more trouble than if he'd made a simple error when counting wine bottles or harvesting grapes. It didn't help that Baracca was black in colour, and that the area didn't have particularly good lighting.

It was only when he retraced his steps in a last, desperate effort that he got lucky; after staring into the dark for a few desperate seconds, he caught sight of a dark-coloured tail waving from the side of the barn. Holding Scuderia's lead rope tightly and moving slowly, Dino walked directly behind and past the horse to make sure it was Baracca; after catching the hint of gold and red on the animal's halter, his suspicions were confirmed. Dino walked down to stand at Baracca's right side, ensuring not to scare him by moving too rapidly. Baracca's ears twitched back, but he stayed still. Dino took another step forward, and Baracca jerked backwards. Dino felt a flash of panic shoot through his chest, closely followed by a uneasy sense of confusion. Baracca had certainly looked like he had tried to flee, but something had held him back. Dino took a couple of cautious steps forward, and it was only then that he caught sight of the boy sitting down on the bench that ran along the side of the building.

The light was dim and Dino was tired, but he was sure of what he was seeing. The problem was that what he was seeing ranked somewhere between unusual and completely out of place in his mind. He was about Dino's age; mid to late teens, possibly early twenties if he was particularly short and slight. The boy was a foreigner, that much was clear; if his physical appearance hadn't identified him as Japanese, then the traditional-looking kimono he was wearing certainly would have. Despite that, his feet were clothed in thick shoes more suited to their muddy surroundings, a bizarre contrast between the formal and the very informal. He was wearing an expression that suggested that he was not at all happy to be where he was, and he looked even less enthusiastic every time Baracca tried to shy away from him. And perhaps the most unusual thing of all about this unusual person was the fact that he had a bright yellow bird perched on his head. Dino wasn't an expert on the subject, but he was quite sure that none of the native species looked anything like the bird on the boy's head.

For a single, fleeting second, Dino wondered if he really had hit his head when Baracca had run from him, and if the person sitting in front of him was nothing more than a particularly curious-looking hallucination. When Dino took another step forward, the little yellow bird on the boy's head perked up and began to sing a song Dino didn't even try to understand.

"Midori tanabiku Namimori no..."

The boy's eyes cut away from Baracca briefly, taking a few seconds to take Dino's presence in. His lip curled back in the slightest of scowls, and Dino felt suffocating awkwardness crash down around him when he realised he had been staring.

"Ah, sorry to bother you, but... that horse belongs to my father."

The boy said nothing, and Dino realised he was staring at the wet mud stains on his shirt and pants. Dino shifted awkwardly and tried to brush the mud off his shirt with his equally dirty hands, before realising it was a hopeless endeavour. The seconds slid by without the uncomfortable silence hanging between them ending, so Dino tried again.

"Thanks for catching him."

"I didn't catch him. He came here."

That was the first time the boy spoke. His voice was smooth, calm and confident enough to border on dangerous. His Italian was heavily accented, but correct. Dino, however, frowned at what he had said; Baracca wasn't exactly the most trusting of animals. Even he had trouble handling him, and there were times when his temper got so bad that Baracca even refused to calm down for his father. But the evidence was there in front of him, and there was no denying that Baracca was strangely calm despite the fact that he was being handled by a stranger. A moment later, the boy tossed Baracca's lead rope towards Dino in a haphazard gesture that almost sent Baracca bolting into the darkness for the second time that night. Dino was forced to drop Scuderia's rope to grab Baracca's, but he was relieved to see that Scuderia did nothing more than take a few cautious steps away from him. Once he had Baracca under control, he gave him a quick, reassuring pat and grabbed Scuderia's rope with his other hand, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so. The day had far too long and too exhausting for him to stand any more unwanted excitement. He turned back to the boy, who was still sitting against the side of the stable as if nothing had happened. The little yellow bird that had been sitting in his hair had flown into a nearby tree and was chirping shrilly in Baracca's direction.

"Well," Dino said awkwardly, "thank you for that."

He wasn't entirely sure what he was thanking the kid for, because he'd said he'd done nothing more than be in the right place at the right time by his own admission. Despite this, the boy responded to Dino's gratitude with a dispassionate shrug and went back to leaning against the stable wall in perfect silence. Dino raised his eyebrows, but decided that the best course of action was to simply walk away. He was tired, exhausted and filthy, and he didn't have the free time or patience to deal with some bratty kid, even if said bratty kid had technically done him a favour.

When he arrived back at the car park to meet with his father, he got a great deal of disapproving and confused looks for his lateness and the state of his clothes, but was asked nothing about what happened in the end; instead, all he got was a few moments of silence, and the assurance that dinner would be on the table when they got home and that they could go straight to bed once they were done. Perhaps his father was just exceptionally talented at reading his moods and knew he was too exhausted to argue, or perhaps it was the fact that his father was indeed too tired and disappointed to argue in the first place, but Dino was treated to a blissfully talk-free car ride back home after the busiest day of the year on his personal calendar. When Dino looked over at the other back seat to find his father dozing lightly against the window, he realised that all his previous assumption may have been incorrect, and that he was simply exhausted after the busy day.

As they were driving away from the fair, he cast one final look back through the rear window of the car. He could still see the lights of the fair from around the horses' trailer. He let his head fall back against the seat of the car and shut his eyes, feeling exhaustion creeping through his body almost instantaneously. Today hadn't been a perfect day for them, but at least it was behind them. With any luck, everything would be back to normal when the next day arrived.

Dino's final thought before he fell asleep was the vague hope that he hadn't somehow jinxed himself by wishing for normality.

To be continued.

The fic's title means "in wine [there is the] truth".

The town's name, Apocrifo, is the Italian translation of the word apocryphal. It has a few meanings, but the main one I'm referencing is the "of doubtful authenticity" definition. Simply put, it's a lame joke about it being a fictional town. The town is, however, located in Sicily, which is obviously a real place.

I listed a bunch of references that I used for this fic on my writing journal; if you are curious, go check out hysteric-blue on LJ.

If I made any really ridiculous mistakes with the descriptions of wine or anything, please let me know. :D;

And comments are always appreciated!