I feel veeeeery silly about having forgot in my early Junzumi hyperfixation period I wrote two other stories about them, which I honestly really like even if so many things have changed. I look at this one-shot with nostalgia, remembering how I wrote it for a friend and I completely went wild with their simple request. Yeah, if you ever find yourself requesting a Junzumi one-shot from me, just know I will add ton of personality XD.

Anyway, enjoy!

XXX

Most visitors didn't really know anything about him. Actually, it didn't matter how hard they would try perking their ears up: the chattering of the place would never cease and it was almost impossible to overhear a single word coming from each table; from the one he was sitting at all alone too.

They weren't only oblivious about his past as a Legendary Warrior. His age was a mystery as well and the indiscreet hypothesises would change each time he showed up there. Some days he would look older, more than just exhausted. Dark circles would overload his traits, dull eyes would stare at the nothingness as that dead weight walked through the elegant aisle and abandoned himself on a chair, occasionally closing his tired orbs. Instead, other days he would look much younger, on his twenties approximately. He would energetically peep from the door and rub his shoes against the little, refined carpet of the entrance, before marching to his favourite spot in good spirits and place himself there, his hands repeatedly drumming on the clean tablecloth in expectation.

Having said that, it's legitimate to wonder what was so special about this fellow to lure the attention of many. There must have been something extremely peculiar about him that would push people to give glances at him and eventually whisper inaudible comments at their companions.

To tell the truth, excluding some rather eccentric clothes he would often wear among other fancy ones, on the surface he appeared as an average-looking dude, neither handsome nor repulsive. He was pretty stout, but his considerable height represented a good element to balance his size, including his broad shoulders as well.

What would make people eventually turn and grow an interest in him wasn't his routine either. The most loyal customers had learnt it to heart, from the moment he would put his towel around his neck to the one he would sip his habitual cup of coffee; from the moment he would start calmly reading the menu to the one he would clap his hands in delight at the sight of his dish of rigatoni al forno or tortellini in brodo; of spaghetti, cacio e pepe or scialatelli ai frutti di mare.

However, even though it seemed he could smile the brightest whenever he was in front of those recipes, it was enough to wait for his lunches or dinners to finish to understand there was something, indeed, someone who could make his face light up even more intensely. He would patiently sit still without forcing the course of time, knowing she would get out of the restaurant's kitchen sooner or later. By doing so, he would give the impression of someone who wouldn't have minded waiting for her at that same table for the eternity, if it was necessary. She could even arrive at the corner of their tacit rendezvous an hour late and he wouldn't care in the least: her presence would still give him the light he needed to beam at her like dazzling water being blessed by the shiniest sun.

" Scusami, siamo cosi' indaffarati oggi, " Someone imagined she would tell him in those occasions, an improvised filmmaker dubbing a mute episode of those strangers' life for pure fun. They did wonder if both spoke italian, though, observing their faces with probably too much concentration. Whatever the answer was, the fact remained that the continuation of their conversations would remain enwrapped by the chaos of the restaurant, its hustle and bustle of waiters, its swinging of aprons and its cutlery's tinkling. It was only possible to get amused by the reserved embarassment she would try hiding her sweat and stained uniform with; by the way her cheeks would blush furiously at some genuine remark he would make in similar situations.

In a nutshell, they were kind of ordinary people endearing others without even knowing it. Therefore, the diners' reactions at him suddenly stopping coming were predictable. A mixture of sadness and concern would darken their faces now and then, but there was also a pinch of pleasure permeating their hushed considerations, that spicy ingredient that could never miss when it came to gossiping. Never! They would talk and talk and the most extravagant stories were born, even if fortunately they never flew out of the restaurant and never reached the young woman's ears either.

In reality, it didn't take her too much time to fade in the air like he had done, leaving a bittersweet taste in those who had got so near to casually asking her about her favourite client.

After all, it's always difficult to accept stories end sooner or later. Finishing a book always brings a wave of sadness and nostalgia along with the thud a reader will inexorably hear while closing it for the last time. Nevertheless, there's always room for new tales to unfold and accompany characters much further in their existences. It isn't really necessary to publish a new tome about them, though. There's some sort of magic in the mere imagining what those characters closest to our heart are currently doing, wishing for their best, and, if that wasn't just a silly utopic thought, for the best of best.

Il meglio del meglio: that was what those clients who had got to know them wished for, hoping they would still be together despite the rumors they had suffocated before they could spread in that quiet quarter of Naples.

However, sometimes they would feel a void down in their heart at the memory of those two and it wouldn't be rare for some of them to believe to have spotted the duo somewhere, even at that same restaurant, in the guise of two simple yet elegant lovers on a date, sitting at that table which was near to the only window of the small place. Such a blissful peace dominated their senses. They didn't mind about the wind strenuously blowing out there, announcing an incoming storm.

They chatted for the whole time being never stopping mirroring in each other's eyes, their irises shimmering like the glasses of pail wine they had ordered. Then, suddenly, his hand touched hers and remained there, as the dark honey of his spheres seemed to melt like the wax of the candle lying at the center of the table. They gradually filled with warmth due to the power of a very strong flame, much more vigorous than the one of the candle.

Under his gentle grip, she seemed to have abruptly got shy, losing that proud temper she had showed to own many times. It was like if she was expecting something to happen and the silence that had fallen over them from nowhere wasn't helping.

Her voice, just like his, could be heard clearly.

"Uhm…I know this gaze. Don't you dare to sing here, Junpei! I'll kick you this time, I swear!"

He limited himself at chuckling, making his other hand join that connection of fingers and increasing pulsing of blood.

"Will you kick me if I say a magic word too? Like… Abracadabra ?"

She raised an eyebrow, weirded-out yet also entertained.

"Ok, you can say it, but no strange stuff here. You know how important this restaurant is for me…What is it?" She slightly bended her head at the sight of him scratching his well-combed hair.

"Well… Ecco," He blatantly sounded a bit disappointed. "I've already said it. I've ruined the effect…"

And there were no other words he had to add. It was high time feelings and emotions took the lead on the stage. From the diners' perspective, nobody could see what he had revealed on his palm, but the context was evident judging from the tears already cascading from her green orbs.

"I have been thinking about so many things lately, and I've been overwhelmed by the quantity of good news we have been receiving: Fenice theatre hiring me, you being promoted and having got that job offer from that restaurant in Venice…And then there's us meeting so often to, you know, do this and that, which was something we would only do in my dreams years ago… And I feel like I'm walking on a stage of clouds. I'm afraid to be about to fall off this sky sooner or later," He gulped, looking away for a short while, creating a moment of suspence in the hall. "But, even if I won't accept the risk to kneel on this floor and fall now, I'm going to accept the one of falling off this beautiful stage, because there's nothing I want more than spending my whole life with you, in both tragedy and comedy."

"Junpei…You…"

"Izumi, vuoi sposarmi?" He grabbed the ring he had bought for her, so small it was engulfed by a single thumb of his. He began crying just like her, his mouth trembling because of one of the strongest emotions he had probably ever experienced in his life. "I want…To eat the food of the most talented chef in the world forever. "

"You've got such a way with words, Junpei. I've always said that. Certo che sì, " She breathed before throwing herself to the other edge of the table to hug and kiss him, while a loud applause greeted them as if they really were the main characters of a play.

"Ok…This is weird. I'm on holiday today, what the hell," Junpei interrupted their kiss to let his cheeks paint of a vivid red. "And I haven't kneeled like a real fiancè is supposed to, che figura!" Then he turned at her with an eloquent playfulness, smirking widely, while he made the ring slip up her anular, the amethyst on its top twinkling like a dome of stars.

"No." She laughed, pressing her hand against his mouth. "You know, Junpei, there are benefits in accepting to marry a future chef, but what about accepting to marry a tenor? What am I going to get from this choice?"

And he sang a sonorous "Funiculì Funiculà" nobody had ever requested, which didn't mean it didn't get appreciated. Indeed, a chorus was soon joining his jubilation before an agape Izumi.

His unexpected audience clapped their hands until they got sore, rejoicing about the beginning of a new story for those two.

For the unknown Wind and Thunder.

Unfortunately it was the real last time they would see them. The price they had to pay to have assisted to their good ending.

XXX

Most visitors almost know everything about him: his name, his job, his age and the list could get longer, -excluding his past as a legendary Warrior, of course-. Fortunately, it doesn't matter how hard they will try perking their ears up: the chattering of the place will never cease and it is almost impossible to overhear a single word coming from each table; from the one he is sitting at too, in the company of two little blonde fellows, a boy and a girl. A couple of toddlers wearing lovely bibs, and repeatedely drumming their chubby hands -one on the table, the other on the tray of her wood high chair.-

They are eagerly sitting still without forcing the course of time, knowing she will get out of the restaurant kitchen sooner or later, bringing three meals along with her cooking's delicious smells.

They say that famous chef used to work in other restaurants before opening her one in the stylish Milan. She has also told some clients she feels ready to start a new adventure in her homeland, Japan. She doesn't really know how, though, since her husband is currently working for La Scala theatre, but she's convinced they will find a way somehow. A way to realize her dream to bring her italian recipes there.

But that's another story for sure.

…

Just like the one about her attempting to look for benefits in having a tenor husband. Will she ever find those? One, at least? Well, she can't deny he draws more clients to her restaurant.

And that also means more gossip, which she isn't sure she likes.

"Buon appetito!"

XXX

This time I didn't really get in my usual dramatic mood, also adopting a much more laid-back style, which I don't really mind, I'll be sincere. It was a slightly comic context in a sort of sense and "Cicero docet" , I guess ! Oh no, Zura, don't bring latin up while you're explaining a stupid Junzumi chapter.

Something I want to specify is that the request from my friend was about Junpei proposing to Izumi. Yet, I personally headcanon it would be her doing that to him, so let's say this story can be placed in some kind of AU when it comes to connecting it with the main timeline of my older Junzumi.

Like always, I've also used some italian terms, which are mostly recipes in truth XD. I guess the ones I won't mention are understandable from the context.

• "Scusami, siamo cosi' indaffarati oggi": "Sorry, we are so busy today."

• "Che figura!": It's an exclamation when we make a fool of ourselves.

• "Ecco…" : "Well…"

• Buon appetito!: Our itadakimasu XD

Really, thank you again for having coped with my endless Junzuminess. Grazie mille! And see you very soon!

-Zura