Sowing the Seeds (JJBA Mista x Fem Reader)

Chapter 8

Another hour passed by, soon followed by many others.

The sun was rising, shy in its crimson sky.

To be honest, Mista wasn't an early-morning type of person but this was different : he had not slept at all.

Yet the whole team knew what was up : la Squadra members did not answer the phone, and were eager to withhold any information.

It was clear they were involved, but it was still possible to catch them on the spot and intercede.

It was probably the Boss' own will so...

Bruno had been clear to his men about this : after so much time, it would probably be too late soon.

But for them to kidnap you without any difficulty meant one thing, at least to Bruno : you were okay with this.

As you had been thoroughly trained, you could have defended yourself if you wanted to. But no trace of struggle remained...

- But maybe she concealed her abilities? Showing that we trained (y/n) to fight would only cause us trouble, so she didn't defend herself! Mista said, trying to convince himself.
- Mista, I know you... We all invested time and effort into (y/n) so of course it's not pleasant to see her go : but think about this, her room, no struggle, and a signed note. It's all there.

The words stung.

Mista kept silent then, and went out again as the stars were fading over Naples.

Maybe it was true? (y/n) was gone and laughing at their faces, after "befriending" everyone and profited off of their training.

A mix of hurt and hate began to form. He felt so stupid. For confiding in you, training with you, falling in lo..

Wait! Mista thought. The key! The goddamn key! Did (y/n) use it?

As he turned his back at a 180 he decided to return home before everybody else did : to check.

Nobody knew about this, and it could cause a lot of trouble to Mista, yet clear the air about your supposed treason.

To comfort himself and his own pride, he tried to convince himself that he would search your room, then find you, and get revenge for his wounded self.

Yet he knew he probably just missed you, and wanted to know how you escaped.

Your room's door creaked, breaking a deafening silence. His face blank, Mista walked towards the dreaded rug. He could not proceed the sight : the key was there.

And suspiciously, one of the windows was cleanly broken, and the floor surrounded by a small pool of cool water under it.

Unmistakably, this was proof : you were taken, not a traitor. Now he had to tell the others about how he had given you your key... And who manipulated ice in passione? Ghiaccio, from la Squadra.

Thank god for the ice melting climate of Italia! Mista thought, excited to prove his point to the others.

When Mista exposed this and his act, Bruno was mad.

Not the yelling type, not the throwing object type of mad but the worst of them all : the silent, tranquil kind of mad.

Abbachio accentuated this by mocking Mista's inability to hit you with his stand, and how Mista had been all shy and puppy like to you, thus exacerbating the tension.

- Enough, all of you! Finally screamed Bruno, prompting everyone to a heavy silence.

- This is not our business anymore. We screwed up once, maybe several times (Bruno said, staring right at Mista) we can't afford to do it again. Now go. I'll ask for more info, but no more vigilante stuff for any of you. La Squadra is no joke, and I don't do this out of hate for (y/n), but to protect you from further consequences. Am I clear?

- Clear... They all said in unison.

Mista was fuming. As everyone left, Bruno subtly told him to stay in his office a minute more.

- So. You trusted (y/n)? Bruno asked the shooter.
- Yes.
- Do you trust her still?
-... I do?
- What's up with that?

Surprised, Mista went silent.

- I think she might be in danger. Illuso has a problem with her, la Squadra is, as you said, no joke. At best, they use her and her powers. At worse, they dispose of her out of anger.

- She could defend herself,the leader answered.

- Easier said than done, Bucciarati. And I know you, you probably feel the same as I about this.

Bruno smiled.

- I don't think I feel the same way about (y/n) as you do.

Mista went pale, then red, then blank.

Bucciarati kept talking :

- This girl, you...
-... I think so. Mista said, looking away.
- Ah. It happens, he said, in a defeated half smile. I guess that means I couldn't stop you even if I tried?
- Maybe. Mista answered, with a smile that would have melted any of Ghiaccio's creations.

-...You have until noon. Any time after that would be much too late.
If you're caught, I figure you'll escape. Or else we'll all get in trouble for you if need be.

And out he was, scouring for any Squadra minion in the early hours of an eventful day.

Meanwhile, everything became a blur for you.

- Miss (y/n). Illuso said in a hypocrital tone. Welcome to my humble abode!

He gestured dramatically about his place, resembling that of Bucciarati's, except he had much more mirrors on the walls, mess everywhere, bars on the windows and low light.

The air felt heavy and smelled of mediocre food.

- Is this not good enough for a chef of your caliber, m'lady? Illuso said, smacking the back of your head violently.

- You have a debt to pay (y/n) : it's simple really, work for me, not much. How long? As much as I please, as well as some time I could get to spend in your delicious company...

Disguted, you jumped as the door banged, followed by screams.

Men you didn't know were dragging another person on the ground, crying for help. He was then tied to a chair, facing you.

In the big room, you noticed the kitchen, ripe with ingredients, a preheating oven as if they were about to cook...? Oh no.

- You see this man? Illuso said, pointing at the victim. Now that's a bad fella. He owes Passione so much yet never gives back his money... Our money. Mine. But we'll discuss this around a nice homemade meal.

Illuso glanced at you.

- Now, (y/n) cook. Cook him the same meal you made me, remember? And extra effective please.

He leaned towards you, and whispered to your ear.

- Kill him, or I'll kill you.

Frozen, you walked slowly to the open kitchen. For now, you'd cook normally, to buy time.

You felt your stand making the job, shivering, as you prepared the food.

But could you really kill a man?

https://youtu.be/JBluly_S76k