The Heaven's Tale Shokugeki No Souma Fanfic

Chapter 1 || Edited

I feel so dumb right now believing that deceiving mother of sweets. After 3 years of helping around our flourishing hotel branch in Tokyo, those lovable parents of mine decided to send me away to this well-known culinary school. Don't get me wrong though. I graduated middle school with flying colors out of my respect for them. That's why, you could say that helping around the hotel is just one of my ways to kill my boredom during holidays.

The sun was glaring and its heat slowly toasted my fair skin leaving it slightly flushed in color. It's temporary but I'm hoping my face is not as pink as a peach. I groaned in frustration as I walk past these not-so-likable fellow young aspiring chefs (though I'm already a professional). The fresh wind of spring carried the scent of their unnecessary hygiene stuffs that can be considered as a hindrance to our sense of smell as chefs. 

"Good thing I took the exam beforehand or else, I might sneeze all day long." I grumbled, dragging my suitcase behind me with one hand while the other was desperately cooling my heating body with this booklet I got from one of my mom's assistants. If you're asking why I don't have those aides working for me, there's only one word to perfectly answer with that: TRAINING.

"A second-rate chef like you don't have a place here!"

Someone shouted hysterically which made me raise a brow. I glanced around to my right where I heard the voice and saw a typical scene of a rich kid bullying another kid who belongs from the middle class. 'A typical excuse from a typical know-it-all.' My lips formed a thin line, watching the two bicker about their own "style."

"Ms. Takeshima Rumi?" One man with a buffed body approached me. He was wearing a suit, sunglasses and from what I could think of, an earpiece for communication.

'Must be one of their agents.' I thought before bowing in front of him. "Yes, I am the person you're looking for." I stated as I straightened my back. I noticed that he made a curt gesture towards the other men as if they were already expecting my arrival at this Academy. Then, out of nowhere, a woman wearing the same type of outfit as these men approached me and led me to a car situated behind that gigantic entrance.

This school is unbelievably huge inside. Though I would've expected it since the entire Academy is situated on a mountain—similar to those isolated areas. Five minutes have passed before I reached my new apartment. The woman handed me my card and keys before leaving me in front of what I believed is my new home. The scent of a freshly picked flowers greeted me as soon as I entered the apartment. With a click from the door, I removed my shoes and carried everything I had to the part where I saw some boxes stacked in a pile of three. My phone vibrated inside my pocket and without looking at the screen, I answered the call.

"So, how's everything my dear Rumi?"

"MOM! THIS WAS NOT PART OF THE DEAL!" I slightly raised my voice. Not only was my apartment situated fifteen minutes away from the school building, I also have to live alone in this eerie place surrounded by trees and all. To think that she wrongfully advertised the school stating that it's a "paradise" ... 'gah! I knew it from the very beginning.' I sighed and slumped at the leathered sofa in the living room.

"But you lost during our cook-off so you have to accept the terms." The way she said it felt like she already anticipated my loss. Because of that, I could already picture her sinister grin along that line. "That was foul! I--!"

"Now, now, Rumi dear. It isn't nice of you not to accept your defeat. Fufu."

And here comes her giggle which ultimately will be followed with her...let's say...imaginative words. "If you really hate your loss, then you should survive that school. There's only less than 10% of the currently enrolled students who could gloriously walk around the planet with their emblem. So, if you can't burn that to your core, then there's no point of dreaming of setting up your own restaurant."

Heat was bubbling inside my stomach after she said her last line. She knew everything from the reason as to why I decided to work as a part-time chef in our hotel, to my own dream of building a high-class restaurant someday. With that being said, I kept on reading a lot of cook books then improve its recipe and applying my own "world" to complete the masterpiece.

"Mom, please speak in layman's term. Not all people could understand your humor." I simply reminded her after a long pause. It was because of her speech and choice of words that made her sound so sarcastic in front of father's guests at some point. It took us another five minutes to bid each other farewell in a lukewarm way.

I heaved a sigh while staring at the dull ceiling above me. Father promised to financially support my stay and proposed to send me some allowance to spend for my necessities and whatever I deemed to be useful in enhancing my abilities as a chef.

"Serve everything you have in one plate. Hone your skills and accept your failures as a chef because that is your proof that you're not regressing." I recited the words of my mother who inspired me to become a chef along with some guy. It was said that mom apparently had the skills of an Elite Ten yet, she never accepted it for some unknown reasons.

Morning came and everything is already in awry after that bold speech from Yukihira Soma—the only transfer student other than me. Did he get a higher score? Nah, I doubt it. I heard it was Nakiri Erina who became the examiner for that day. Was it me who got the low score? Nope, I just don't like giving speeches and the likes unless I'm provoked or whatsoever. 90% of my mother's "talent" might overflow from my mouth and certainly, that will bore the bonbons out of any student from my year. See? I'm starting to sound like her every second.

I brood over the writings written on the white board in front of me. 'Impress me.' That was the only thing that was written for my class today. I checked all my available ingredients and dug across my memory for a fitting classic dish.

Due to my late start, I finished ten minutes before the time ends. I got a plate from the cabinet and placed a slice of my dish before garnishing it with rosemary. After that, I served it to our teacher. The simplicity of my dish drew a confusion on her face but...I'm not a daughter of Takeshima for nothing.

"Is this Gratin Dauphinois?" She asked rather skeptical as she picked her fork and poke around my masterpiece. I nodded and proceeded to explain the process I followed in creating this dish. After taking a bite, her face cheeks got rosy colored making her look younger than what she seemed. "Did you perhaps used pepper in it?" Her eyes met mine while her hand covered her mouth as she speaks.

"Yes. I just thought that it might give a kick because of its creamy texture." I explained to her.

There was a moment of silence inside the classroom while we waited for her to announce if I passed or not. "You passed with an A grade." She declared. I gave her a firm nod of appreciation and returned to my station to clean up like it was a natural thing for me. Grades. They're all nothing but letters compared to the real world that's full of criticisms and instant death to any chef's pristine star-like image.

"'A world where everyone consumes each other to stay on top.' The Director really likes to play with words like mom."

Update History: 07-08-2017