BiTTER (Shokugeki no Souma Fanfic)

8. Mistake and Mistakes

And they all sat down, the teacher's loud voice booming through the classroom as his sharp remarks continued.

Fumi was starting to hate all this now.

As someone without a sense of smell, personal hygiene was a worrisome factor. Making sure to put on cologne was important, because even he couldn't tell if he had body odor. People were just too polite to mention it.

He didn't have this sort of trivia knowledge back in his first life... maybe there were still things he didn't remember. It wasn't as if Jouichirou mentioned it. Surely it didn't affect the taste of the cakes he baked... or maybe they did, but amateur tongues wouldn't care for the difference.

As the teacher rambled on, Fumi found himself under the stern glare of a boy a few tables away.

Fumi looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and promptly winced.

How did he not notice that pink hair until now? Why was it glaring at him? Has Fumi done something wrong? Oh god.

Fumi tried his best not to look back in that direction, because the pink-haired boy's gaze was boring holes into his spirit. Was that boy even listening to the lecture?

Oh, someone save him.

-

"I'm Shinomiya Kojirou, nice t'meet ya."

The boy spoke with a scowl, and his tone indicated how much he didn't trust Fumi at all. This pair work was absolutely not going well.

Shinomiya had an accent. Not a very thick accent... no, he was hiding it. Imitating a city tongue... but it was still obvious at the ends that he was trying.

"My name is Eda Kiyofumi," he introduced himself, and god did it feel weird to say his full name for once, "I hope we'll get along."

He really did hope. Rubbing at the back of his palm, nervously tracing the burn scar, he tried not to shrink under that scrutinizing gaze.

Shinomiya gave Fumi another once-over and turned away, back to the kitchen counter.

"Can'ya cut the carrots? I'll cut the onions."

Fumi flinched at the sudden order. Oh, they should probably get to work, right.

(But why was Shinomiya in charge? Maybe he saw how nervous Fumi was, determined he was of no help, and decided to be the responsible one?)

Fumi wasn't a fan of being underestimated, but it was obvious that Shinomiya was the more capable one in this situation. If Shinomiya wanted to be the main chef, Fumi could only quietly go with it.

Shinomiya seemed like the type that didn't like being under anyone, after all.

"Yes, sir," Fumi responded, more out of obligated need.

Maybe if he followed orders, he'd be calmer. He really needed the calm right now, or he'd--

The knife came down on his hand, a little too close to his skin-- and a burst of red spilled onto the chopping board.

Fuck.

-

"You said that ya wanted to be a Patissier, so why didja come to a culinary school?"

And there it was. The confrontation.

Fumi was rushed to the infirmary, and the wound was tended to very quickly, but by the time he made it back to the classroom, he and Shinomiya had received an E on their grade for failure of submission.

It made sense that Shinomiya would get angry, though they both agreed it wasn't exactly Fumi's fault-- but Fumi was the careless one.

Fumi was utterly terrified. He'd been surrounded with nothing but scary older girls since he was young, but boys his age were terrifying too.

"Desserts are an essential part of cooking," Fumi reasoned, trying his best to be calm and willing himself to not stare at the obnoxiously pink hair, "I want to specialize in everything, not just cakes, so--"

"Even a kid can bake," Shinomiya scoffed, "ye obviously ain't used to actual, real cooking. Ya'r one'a those that get expelled real early in d'term."

One could not become a Patissier if you only knew how to bake. One could not become a great Chef if you did not know how to plate a dessert.

Fumi was irked by that. Sure, he did terribly today, but he really was just having a bad day, okay? He's all the way in unfamiliar territory and he can't even smell any of the apparently good food in the vicinity.

"I'll try my best," he said with a forced smile instead of making a comeback, because there was really nothing he could say.

He sucked right now. He's only ever baked masterfully, cooking was never and still isn't his forte. Even amongst the amateurs, his progress was lackluster.

But this was only day one. Surely, surely...

"This profession ain't a game!" Shinomiya raised his voice, almost angered, "I came to Tootsuki, hoping to see some sorta difference, but everyone here's just a joke after 'nother! If ya'll won't take this seriously, you're better off all being expelled!"

He was right.

This was supposed to be the best culinary academy in Japan. What's with all the amateurs and absolute brats in this building? They should already know the basic of the basics, so why was everyone here messing up like babies who've entered the kitchen for the first time in their lives?

For someone who's truthfully aiming for the chef hat, all of us must seem like we're making fun of him.

The boy with pink hair marched off, and Fumi couldn't find in himself the energy to say anything in response to that.