ONMAKE: Reborn and the Cherry-Pecan Bread
ThePlotbunnyBreeder: This is what happens if you leave me alone with a lot of plotbunny material (We even made a list!), make my your beta, even though it's my first time being one, and permission to go wild…
MWAHAHAHA!
Permission to publish this granted?
LeftNotRight: Go ahead, I give my blessing.
.
Summary: Reborn eating the cherry pecan bread. Slight Food Wars!/Shokugeki no Soma Crossover. It takes place after Ch. 7 and the day before Ch. 8. Best read after the start of Ch. 9, when Reborn buys the coffee cake.
Word Count: 487
WARNING: Foodgasms, Mention of Feces and Drugs, and Slight!Crack.
Reborn eyed a piece of the deliciously smelling piece of the cherry pecan bread.
He had tested if it contained poison, even though the chances were minuscule.
(He was The World's #1 Hitman after all. His paranoia is justified, being more of a habit than anything else.)
But the reaction when he fed it to some pigeons were… intriguing and also slightly disturbing.
They have groaned in… pleasure? And flopped over panting heavily, as good as pigeons could pant, like they have flown a small marathon or something similarly exhausting.
Then feebly tried to attack him for more crumbs, before begging him.
He shot them, normally he wouldn't have bothered, but they threatened to… defecate on his suit!
The other pigeons were thoroughly disturbed and after some persuasion, they promised not to be so… foolish and disgusting.
The memory made him smirk his Smirk_Ver.8: Your-futile-struggling-is-vaguely-entertaining-me.
(Not to be confused with his Smirk_Ver.23: Channeling-your-Inner-Sadist-like-a-boss or his Smirk_Ver.17: You-peasants-are-amusing-me.)
After that he tested the confection for hallucinatory, dopamine increasing and/or melanin suppressing drugs, and found none, he grudgingly prepared it for consummation.
(After he made some visits to several labs, of course.)
Now, here he was, eyeing the (Still warm and fragrant after three hours... - HOW?) small piece of the cherry pecan bread.
He hesitantly put it in his mouth, and used an impressive chunk of his self-control not to swallow it and eat everything like an unsophisticated plebeian.
This is… delicious. He admitted reluctantly in his mind. It's almost on par on Nana's almost-but-technically-not-drugs. I could barely suppress the vision.
(He also ran her… food through several tests and visited, even more, labs.
But it was just food.
Albeit very, incredibly delicious food.)
He dipped another piece in his espresso and-
Suddenly he's back in Italia and recognizes that he's in a beach house in Sicily.
There are some challenging hits he still has to accept on the night drawer, along with an almost empty bowl of pecans, and the window is open, giving him a breathtaking view of a pink sea of leaves and the ocean.
The wind smells like the sea, sakura trees and espresso, which came from his cup on the windowsill.
He takes a deep breath, watching the cherry blossom petals dance, and notes in surprise that his body is flickering between his teens and his current, cursed from, before-
-waking up...
...He tilts his fedora, not making a single sound or twitch.
He continues eating after a moment, dipping each piece into the espresso, face carefully blank.
His plate is clean and his cup is dry when he finishes.
The next day, he goes to the bakery at 5:20am.
(And the next, and the next, always at 5:20am.
It becomes a routine.
A not so bad routine. He thinks to himself as he eyes the coffee cake, wondering if he should buy it the next time.)