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One of Ren’s love languages is cooking for his beloved, displaying his care, affection, and effort through this act of service. Each plate of curry, warm bowl of pasta, and carefully crafted appetizer carried the pure affection he had for his beloved
He remembers too clearly the times when he could feel Yusuke’s bones through his clothes that hung too loosely, hunger plaguing the boy; it shattered Ren’s heart.
Back then, Yusuke’s priorities were scattered. His passion for art is admirable, yes, but it often eclipses his needs. Not to mention that after joining the Phantom Thieves, the workload on his body heightened. It would be a lie to say Ren's guilt didn’t tug at his chest while watching the starving artists with quiet worry. He often insisted that the artist enjoy a meal in the house of Leblanc. Plus, he has grown to enjoy working up dishes in the café’s kitchenette.
At first, it had been about easing his conscience, but over time, Ren realized his services were not charity or his growing enthusiasm for the craft. It was love–affection for Yusuke, leading to a dear relationship.
Now, their lives were different, as the two had been married for a year, living in a small yet cozy apartment. The space was cluttered with canvas stacks leaning against the walls, law textbooks scattered on the coffee table, and shelves with pieces reminding the couple of their adventures around the city. Every day, they peacefully wake up to the faint smell of oil paints and coffee. As their mornings routinely began with Ren’s cooking, and evenings ended the same way.
Throughout the years, Ren slowly saw the dangerously pale skin and prominent bones on Yusuke’s body fade from sight. He watched as, with every thoughtful meal combatted the thinning of the
Although quite eccentrically level-headed, Yusuke adores it. Ren’s tenderness; it's one of the things that first sparked his love. It's a no-brainer, honestly. Who wouldn’t fall for the boy who paid attention to the little things: every favorite dish and every careless skipped meal, as Ren did for Yusuke?
Which is why, on their anniversary night, Yusuke decides it's his turn. A small gesture to return a fraction of the overflowing love Ren has ever shown, non-stop, throughout the years. With Morgana’s help (and perhaps too much ambition), he planned to surprise Ren with a homemade, gourmet dinner.
--
Yusuke tied the apron – the one Ren always wore – around his waist, determined to pour the same intensity into this dish that he gave his paintings. “This is either going to be a masterpiece… or a massacre,” sighed Morgana as he sat on the counter, observing the bag of groceries they had gone out to purchase earlier that afternoon.
“Nonsene, Morgana,” chuckled Yusuke, “I shall create a culinary masterpiece from the depths of my soul! Ren will absolutely love it!” as he smirked and dramatically threw a hand in the air, as though declaring his intent to the heavens. Of course, even in cooking, Yusuke would keep his now-normal artistic eccentricities.
“Uh-huh… right.” Morgana shot him an unimpressed look, “Anyways, what does the recipe say step one is again?” The cat asked while pawing through the abundance of ingredients, trying to set them all out on the countertop.
“Ah, allow me to consult our source,” replied today's head chef, pulling out his phone. He begins to read from a blog post: The Easiest Steak You’ll Ever Cook (No Chef Skills Required). “Huh… maybe that darn title is why he's so… confident…,” thought Morgana as he peeked to see the screen.
To start, Yusuke takes out the cut beef and begins to pat it dry with the paper towels, then seasons it according to the recipe. However, he approaches cooking like art—meticulous, dramatic, but completely impractical. Diverting from the pre-measured salts and peppers, as Ren says, Yusuke ‘follows his heart,’ which means to season it very, very generously with other than the recommended seasonings.
Morgana yelled, “Yusuke, that's too much! And that isn’t what it says on the recipe!” In attempts to revoke the various powers the artists are dusting the steak with, he accidentally knocked over the salt container.
Oh boy… from the start alone it seemed like it's tilting towards the ‘massacre’ side.
--
Moving on from the mess, “Okay,” Yusuke murmurs, furrowing his brows. “Now… dice the onions.” He took the knife with confidence. It immediately vanished when he began hacking the onion into chunks far too large to be qualified as diced.
“Ack! That’s not dicing! It's– it's more like abstract expressionism with vegetables!”
“Abstract expressionism has its merits,” Yusuke lightly shot back, picking up the cutting board to swipe the uneven pieces into the pan. “Besides, its authenticity is to be praised.” “Authentically inedible! And you can’t just throw them in on high heat,” Morgana countered.
Yusuke waved a hand, again, dramatically, “But this dish demands passion, Mona. Heat ignites all my passion!”
The two’s bickering distracted from the artistically diced onion’s edges, quickly turning black, dark smoke rising into the air. Only when the stinging smell of burning hit Yusuke and Morgana’s noses did they realize the disaster.
“It’s burning!” Morgana screeched, pawing at the stove knob. “Quickly! It's down before you set off the alarm!”
Swiftly, Yusuke shuts off the stove fire. “I must admit,” he said, fanning at the smoke with the now unoccupied hand, “there is something quite mesmerizing about the destruction. Truly a fleeting beauty…”
“Ren’s gonna kill us,” Morgana muttered under his breath, envisioning the scolding that was about to ensue.
But Yusuke only smiled confidently, as if he were standing before a proud masterpiece. “No, he will appreciate the effort. I'm positive he will,” he giggled a little.
--
One thing led to another, and the kitchen had turned into a mess. On the stovetop, the half-burnt food, yet half-raw food, sputtering oil, and clattering pans. On the counter, various utensils, sauces, and powders were scattered and stuck. Not to be forgotten, the noticeably faint bitterness of the charred onion smell lingered stubbornly in the room. Based on the looks of it, you’d assume it was a science experiment or art project gone wrong, rather than a meal.
As garlic powder dusted Morgana’s face, he frantically swiped through the recipe on Yusuke’s phone, lying on the counter. He flipped his head to the chef-turned artist, “Yusuke, no! You can’t substitute sugar for salt—wait, wait—don’t!
The cat panicked, flailing his paws in the air, “You’re not even supposed to add more seasoning now!”
“Contrast, no? The harmony it created is sweet and salty!” Yusuke triumphantly sprinkled the white granules as if he were making a bold artistic choice.
“Harmony?!” Morgana gagged dramatically, sticking his tongue out, “It smells like someone set a dessert on fire!”
It was at that precise moment that the front door creaked open.
Ren stepped inside, loosening his tie while expecting to find Yusuke bent over a canvas. Instead, he is met with a light smoke, a bitter smell, and the sight of his husband on the verge of collapse, even standing like a proud chef – or artist? Nonetheless, that did not distract him from the mess as mentioned earlier: kitchenware cluttered every surface; seasonings streaked the counter like paint across a palette.
“...I’m home,” Ren said cautiously, setting his briefcase down to begin taking off his shoes.
“Ren!” Yusuke ran towards Ren, beaming with a mix of excitement and determination, with sweat across his face and sauce on the apron. “You’ve arrived at the perfect time. Dinner is almost complete.”
From the floor, Morgana peeked up at the counter, spatula clutched in his paws like it was going to shield him. He trembled, “Save yourself while you still can.”
Ren pressed his lips together, torn between alarm and amusement. “It smells… adventurous.”
“Exactly,” Yusuke replied proudly. He gestured to the pan like one of his exhibition pieces. “A gourmet masterpiece in your honor. Our anniversary shall be celebrated through my craft.”
Smoke rose from the pan like an ominous warning. Ren walked closer, trying his best to suppress laughter as Yusuke straightened his posture, awaiting judgment that he usually reserved only for gallery critiques.
“…Well,” Ren said finally, tugging at his sleeves, rolling them up his elbows as he reached for a spare apron, “how about I help you finish your masterpiece before we set off the fire alarm?”
Yusuke blinked, then nodded in elation, as though Ren had offered collaboration on a grand painting. An anniversary was a celebration of their bond anyway. Meanwhile, Morgana sighed in relief.
“Thank goodness,” the cat muttered. “Maybe we’ll live to eat dinner after all.”
--
Yusuke proudly plates the “masterpiece.” It looks burnt and undercooked at the same time, uneven was the kindest description. Maybe it was still edible? He set it down at the dinner table, where Ren and Morgana braced themselves.
The cat stares at the plate in horror, ominously muttering, “This violates culinary law,” which is met with Ren’s laughter – half nervous, half amused – but Yusuke is dead serious. To him, the dish was a heartfelt gift. To him, it was devotion, truly a symbol for his love.
Bravely, picked up his fork and took the first bite as Yusuke watched anxiously. His eyes were wide like a critic awaiting judgment. Ren told himself, “Hey, maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Right?”
The food grazed his tongue.
Instantly, an unpalatable wave overwhelmed his tongue. The bitterness of charred ingredients, the abundance of seasoning, and that unignorable lumpy texture took over his palate.
“What do you think?” Yusuke beamed, sparkles shone in his eyes, “The flavour, the passion!” Again, dramatically throwing both hands in the air and head tilting to face the heavens.
For a brief moment, the unpalatable flavor in Ren’s mouth vanished as he was reminded of one of their meetings before either of them admitted it felt like dates, at the Kanda church. Ren almost choked as recalling the wholesome moment made him chuckle.
“Ah! Are you alright, Ren?” Yusuke leaned in, worried. Morgana muttered under his breath, “Holy… I guess I’ll starve tonight…”
Composing himself, which made the horrid taste come back, Ren managed to swallow and force a smile.“It’s… crunchy. Surprisingly… sweet?” Despite the act, Ren swore that Yusuke’s face lit up like the sun.
“Really!? Let me try!” Morgana sounded genuinely surprised, taking a piece of his share before Ren could stop him.
“Blergh!” the cat gagged, flicking his tongue out, “it's like when you mix all the paint colors hoping for a rainbow but ending up with a brown dump!”
Yusuke blinked. Then, as if a lightbulb turned on above his head, “Ah! Yes, exactly, Mona!” The sudden statement was met with confusion from the two noirs.
“Yes, this blend of flavours united in a single piece, such as my love for many aspects of you, Ren.” He grabbed Ren’s hands between his and was met with the cat’s unsurprised, but still disappointed expression.
Although Ren realizes the sarcasm of Morgana’s comment, he brushes it off. It seemed as if nothing else mattered but the boy he chose to marry, sitting across him with the brightest expression, declaring love. “Thank you, Yusuke. Your culinary masterpiece is the best anniversary celebration ever.”
This time, he didn’t force anything; the warm smile, the heat across his face, and the tugging of his heartstrings were all genuine. It also seemed like the same could be said about Yusuke, “Of course, dear.” Gripping Ren’s hand more tightly for a while, he let go.
Another disgusted face was shot at the boys in love from Morgana, “If love really tastes like that, I’m glad I’m single.” He fled the scene in search of some edible cat food – and perhaps in respect for the two, not wanting to interrupt their lovey-dovey anniversary dinner.
Shortly, Yusuke insists on tasting his homemade culinary masterpieces that his husband seemed to very much enjoy. Immersed in amusement, Ren rested an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he watched the dish enter Yusuke’s mouth.
Ren clapped a hand over his mouth, almost bursting out laughing as Yusuke’s face quickly shifted—a bright delight collapsing into disgust at the atrocities he had committed in the culinary world.
They laugh together when their eyes meet, Yusuke realizing how bad it is. The dining table is now filled with the couple’s giggles.
--
After the shared meal consisted of feeding each other bites that made the food more bearable, they ended up cleaning the kitchen together, still laughing as they went.
Somewhere between the laughter, Yusuke suddenly spoke up in a worrying tone, “Ren…,” making his husband panic slightly, “I apologize for tonight’s disaster. In an ideal world, I would have served you a true masterpiece—flavors dancing on your tongue, a paradise of taste. But alas… I failed.” Now Yusuke’s eyes were glassy.
“Yusuke,” he was cut short, “dear, you didn’t fail anything here,” Ren now closing their proximity, brushing Yusuke’s knuckles on the countertop they were wiping.
He gently continues, “Through the charred bitterness, all I could feel from each bite was overwhelming love. So, I'm gonna say it again, Thank you, Yusuke. Not only for this thoughtful meal, but also for staying with me throughout these years.”
Ren cupped Yusuke’s cheek, thumb brushing away a tear that rolled down. “I’m the luckiest man alive with you,” he whispered warmly. “Cheers to our anniversary, my dear.”
The couple shared a tender, warm kiss: a reminder of the overflowing, pure, and genuine affection they have for each other.
“But still, maybe you’re best at sticking to painting canvases, not pans,” Ren lightly teased, which was then met with another surge of purely joyful soft chuckles to end the night.
The food might have been a disaster, but the night was a masterpiece in its own right.