(Name)'s POV
"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining me today," Erina greeted us, exuding an air of authority not unlike that of her grandpa.
The young Nakiri had called the four of us into the kitchens early this morning, claiming she had a 'team-building-exercise' for us: turns out it was another Team Shokugeki. This was all her doing, too, for we still had our regular training afterwards.
For this exercise, Soma and Megumi would face off against me and Takumi. I knew the two worked well together as they did in past matches, but this was my first time cooking solo alongside Takumi (not counting our match with Dojima as the leader). He was a sharp and capable chef—I'd have to be at my very best if I was to keep up.
And as with any competition, there was the pre-match trash talk.
"I trust you are at your best, Yukihira? I'm finally going to win back my Mezzaluna today." Takumi focused on his rival, but Soma seemed more interested in trash-talking me.
"Hey, hey, Homura. Betcha a box of biscuits Tadokoro and I will win." He grinned, no doubt talking about my favorite biscuits. How'd he know I brought some with me?!
I narrowed my eyes. So he was serious about this match. If biscuits were at stake, I had no intention of losing. "In that case, I bet you a week's worth of pretzels. Hope you've got your biscuits ready."
"Deal." We shook on it.
"Oi, Yukihiraaa!" Takumi protested to being ignored. As he continued to nag our opponent, I sent Megumi an encouraging smile. I was physically incapable of trash-talking her.
"Let's do our best!"
Erina signaled the start, and we hurried to our stations. Our topic was broad, for Erina required that we cook something with fish and provided little else than a time limit.
"Fish, huh..?" Takumi mused as we stared at the fish before us. I thought it was dead until it gave a little 'flop', causing us both to jump and scream.
"Don't worry!" I grabbed the knife and chopped off its head, then turned and sent him a thumbs up. "It's dead now."
Takumi cleared his throat, embarrassed after being startled by the now-dead fish. "E-er, right. But how did Nakiri-san manage to procure a live fish on the train?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if there was an entire aquarium car dedicated to raising fish. I've learned not to question it." I made quick work of gutting the fish while he pondered this.
"True. As for our dish..." Takumi rubbed his chin, and I chanced a glance towards the other team. I wasn't surprised to see Soma and Megumi were already at work.
I drummed my fingers on the countertop. "Fish." Takumi looked up at me. I furrowed my brows and squinted at him. "Fish?"
"Uh..." Takumi sweatdropped, not following my thought-process (or lack, thereof). But then he stood taller and looked me in the eye, serious. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking..." I turned and grabbed an orange, smiling as I noticed how his familiar look of focus returned. He wasn't nervous, nor shaky. There was the Takumi I knew. "We make a dish that expresses our raw talent."
And to my excitement, it took him only a second to catch on to what I was saying (and my pun, based on the way his eyes twinkled). "Do you mean...?"
I nodded. "Crudo."
Takumi smiled and took the orange from my hand. "Excellent choice."
Crudo, which meant 'raw' in Italian, was an Italian dish similar to sushi in that it consisted of raw, thinly-sliced seafood, often drizzled with olive oil and citrus. It was the perfect Japanese-Italian dish for Takumi and I to set our knives to. And so we set to work.
As we did under Dojima, Takumi and I clicked well. I was capable of keeping up with his pace—he cooked in similar fashion to Soma, moving efficiently between phases—but reading his moves was another story.
It was obvious he favored Italian cooking, but he branched to other cuisines too. I was especially grateful for his Japanese-half, noticing he incorporated more Japanese themes in our dish. Luckily I was able to assist his Italian methods thanks to my time with Mizuhara.
Still, I noticed he never slowed down. He matched my pace, yes, but it never felt as if he was holding back. He cooked to the best of his abilities and expected me to match him, just as the chefs in Mizuhara's kitchen did.
In other words, he treated me as an equal.
Our only hiccup occurred when I went to retrieve the olive oil. Most of the ingredients were laid out on the counters, but this particular bottle was set on the top shelf—just out of my reach.
I was given no time to stew over this predicament, however, when a shadow cast over me. I could feel their presence and how close they were as an arm reached out to retrieve the bottle.
"Pardon me," Takumi said softly, looking down so our eyes met when I looked up, mere centimeters from my face.
I blanked out and stared at his handsome face, suddenly hyperaware of his closeness. That strand of hair that hung in the center of his forehead threatened to tickle my nose because of his proximity. I resisted the urge to grab it and sniffed nervously.
He smelled like olive oil and... citrus? Not too surprising given what we were cooking, but it flustered me nonetheless. He's so close!
"Um..." Takumi blinked, snapping both of us from our trance, and held out the olive oil to me. "Here you go."
I blinked enough to rival Bella Swan from the Tw*light movies. "Thanks, Takumi-kun."
Our fingers brushed as he handed it to me, and he released the bottle so fast I nearly dropped it. I didn't mention this as I brought it to my chest, now fixated on the tingling nerves of my fingers.
Takumi scratched his cheek. "You're welcome."
...And then I did a double-take. "How are you so tall?!"
I didn't realize it at first, but he was towering over me! He shouldn't be able to reach the top shelf at his usual height! He'd have to be at least as tall as Kurokiba, so how—
"I'm using a stool."
I turned and looked down. Sure enough, there was a stool he stood on to reach the shelf for me. "Oh." I don't know why I didn't just use it in the first place, but whatever.
"Well, thanks again, Takkun!" I laughed it off and stepped forward, forgetting how close we were until I heard him inhale with alarm.
"Takumi..!" I shouted as he jerked back instinctively, wobbling on the stool, arms waving wildly to regain his balance. It was a small fall, but it would still hurt. "Um! Uh!!"
My reflexes acted before my brain did, and I simultaneously placed down the oil and reached for his wrist to steady him. But I was too late, for the stool collapsed from under him as his arm slipped from my grip. He was going to fall!
'CRASH!' The stool clattered against the tile.
"Oof." Takumi's weight caused me to wheeze, but he actually wasn't too heavy. I adjusted my grip and felt his muscles tense.
"Are you two okay!?" Erina hurried over, then froze upon seeing our situation. "What... happened?" she asked the very question I was thinking.
What happened? I looked down at the arms which looped around my neck, then the blond head of hair that rested against my shoulder. He ducked his head, shielding his expression from me. I...
"I saved him!!!" I declared, exhaling out of my nostrils as my eyes sparkled with pride. That's right, I dived after Takumi and managed to catch him before he fell! Hero Homura to the rescue again–
"WAHAHAHAHA!" I turned to see Soma's head peeking over the counter, tears in his eyes as he laughed. Behind him, Megumi fretted in concern.
"That's right, I saw it all! Homura saved him!" Soma teased/affirmed, pointing down at the humiliated Italian. "Nice save, (Name)! Nice!"
I stood and lifted Takumi bridal-style, puffing out my chest with pride. "All in a day's work!"
"U-um... you can—you can put me down now...."
"Hm?" I looked at him. By now, Takumi had released my neck to cover his face instead, which was beet red up to his ears. Ah, he must be embarrassed he fell! "Sure, sorry! My bad."
I placed him down gently, and he brushed off his shirt in attempts to regain his dignity, despite Soma's continuous laughter. "No need to apologize. I should be—I am thankful. Thank you."
"Hey, Tadokoro, would you say this makes Takumi the princess and Homura the knight?"
"Soma-kun!" Megumi frowned, then fiddled with her braids. "Though (Name)-chan does make a very charming knight..."
"No, Homura's the princess for sure!" We jumped at Takumi's sudden shout, eyes fiery with passion as he forgot his past embarrassment. "Princesses can be strong and beautiful, too! Just like Fiona!"
Ack, he said it again!! I choked, flustered by the bold compliment. If I wasn't blushing before, I certainly was now.
"'Fiona?'" Soma repeated, amused. "Like from Shrek..?" He then glanced at me. "Hm. I can see that. Then does that make you an ogre, Takumi?"
"Hey–!"
"–Everyone's okay, then? I'm relieved." Erina finally interjected. She exhaled with relief, then narrowed her eyes as her previous persona returned. "Now get back to work, you guys!!"
"Yes ma'am!"
Takumi moved to return to his initial task, but I stopped him before he could. "Takkun," I grabbed his sleeve, "are you sure you're okay? Sorry I made you fall."
Takumi didn't answer for a moment. Was he embarrassed? Annoyed? A million thoughts raced through my head.
"Don't worry," Takumi turned and grabbed the wrist of my arm which held onto him. Then he slid down his hand so it held mine. Gently, he squeezed. "I'm okay thanks to you."
The warmth of his fingers shot up through my arm and traveled to my face. I glanced up at his expression, which looked as warm as my face felt, and promptly looked away. "Good." My mouth felt dry. "I'm—I'm glad."
"(Name)?" I couldn't help but look back at him when he dropped the honorific. He released me and placed his hand over his heart instead. "Let's make a delicious dish together!"
I felt the warmth spread through my body again, and I finally realized where it was coming from: my own heart. I mirrored his pose and placed my hand over my chest. "Let's!"
We returned to our cooking, thankfully with little to no awkwardness as we both regained our focus. And in spite of our minor setback, we were the first to finish.
"Wait, Takumi-kun!" I called, halting his route to Erina. He turned, tilting his head when I gestured for him to come closer. There was something I always wanted to do...
I whispered my request in his ear, and he pulled away with an amused smile. "Sure," he answered, eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Is this your dish?" Erina asked as Takumi placed it before her.
"Yes," Takumi answered, holding a hand to his chest and bowing in a polite manner. I mimicked the gesture, and together we chorused:
"Bon appétit!"
"Bone apple teeth!"
We straightened and looked at each other. "W... what?" Takumi frowned, question marks floating around his head. "It's.. it's 'bon appétit'."
He didn't get the reference? I blinked. "I have so many memes to send you."
"Oh dear."
Erina made no comment and proceeded to taste the dish. Meanwhile, Takumi had fun rubbing the fact that we finished first in Soma's face (not that Soma cared). Shortly after, Erina tested Soma and Megumi's dish. Again, there was little reaction as she critically pitted the two dishes against each other.
"The winner is..." she decided after giving her figurative review of each dish, "Team A."
"Glad you liked it!" Soma removed his headband then high-fived Megumi.
"Shoot! I really wanted to win." Takumi huffed, crossing his arms. I was upset too, but I set aside my upset for his sake and patted his shoulder.
"Hey, we put up a good fight, Takumi-kun," I offered with a good-natured laugh. I'd be kissing my pretzels goodbye after this.
Takumi sighed. "We do make a pretty good team," he admitted with a small smile, glancing over his shoulder at me.
I returned the smile, and his own disappeared as he stared for a moment. But he was quick to look forward again and cleared his throat for a second time. I could feel the warmth exuding from his neck from where my hand rested. He must still be embarrassed after falling.
Before I could inquire about this observation, Soma appeared to heckle Takumi (whether unintentional or not). "Good match, Takumi! You guys did good."
The Italian immediately forgot his bashfulness and pointed at the chef. "One more time! Let's have a rematch!"
They were ready to go at it again when the adults entered the kitchen. At once, our match ended and we were swept away for our daily training. And while it wasn't necessarily a distraction, my mind kept drifting to the scent of olive oil and lemon.
He's lucky Shinomiya didn't sniff him out at the training camp. I remembered the poor kid he expelled for using scented-shampoo. But it's not an unpleasant smell, either...
*~*~*~*
Another day on the train, another day of train-ing under my father...
I miss my friends. Polar Star, Hayama, Isami, Alice... I sighed as I trudged down the hall. Sometimes, I think I can still hear their voices.
Wait. I could hear their voices.
"Soma-kun?" I popped my head into the compartment.
Sure enough, on his screen was a video-chat with Alice, Kurokiba, and Hayama. My former teammates! None of them noticed me, however, and I giggled mischievously as I crept up behind the boy.
I crouched behind Soma's chair, undetected, then sprung up with a shout. "HEYYO--!"
"Gah!!!" Soma exclaimed, falling out of the seat.
"What was that?!" The three panicked on the other side of the monitor. "Homura-san??"
I chuckled as I took the now empty seat for myself. "Hey guys!"
"(Name)-chan!" Alice bubbled with delight, cheerful as ever despite her current situation. The two beside her voiced their hellos.
"It's already evening, yet you're still energetic enough to scare people." Hayama sighed. Hehe, Sigh-yama.
"...Do it again." Kurokiba squinted toward the corner where Soma had fallen. Wait, was he amused??
"I heard that," Soma grumbled, standing up from the floor. "Geez, didja have to sneak up on me like that?"
He tapped my shoulder, hoping I'd relinquish the seat back to him, but I wouldn't budge. "Oi, give it back."
"What are ya', the chair-man of this train?" I teased, somewhat bitter after surrendering the last of my biscuits. But I scooted enough to give him half the seat, and he rolled his eyes before squishing into the seat next to me. Still, he managed to hog more than half the chair. Jerk.
"Look at us! It's like our White Coat Quartet is back together again, hm~?" Alice chirped, unbothered by Soma's frustration.
"Almost. We'll see each other at Rebun Island." I winked, eager to be reunited with my friends. My former teammates smiled, also pleased with the thought, before Hayama leaned down to see the screen better.
"You've been taking care of yourself, Homura?" He ignored the curious 'oh?' Alice emitted. "...And Jun says 'hi' again."
"I'm well. And 'hello' back, from my father too," I added this last bit, knowing how happy it would make the professor.
"So, is it just you five entering the Team Shokugeki?" asked Kurokiba.
That was a good question. We were told we could have as many members as we wanted, but there wasn't exactly a pool of students eager to join our ranks. Most of the rebels had been expelled. But we weren't completely alone, either.
"No, we have a couple other people in mind. We're gonna rustle up more allies while we train," Soma answered, still pushing against me in subtle attempts to claim the chair back.
"We'd at least like to match Central numbers-wise," I added. I ignored how firmly Soma's thigh pushed against mine and opted to dig my elbow into his side instead. He wheezed a little from the force, but our friends were none the wiser.
We excused ourselves shortly after that, and Soma ended the call. We abandoned the chair, no longer in need of it, and I followed him down the hall. He said we had a couple potential allies, but I could only think of one person off the top of my head.
"Who did you have in mind?" I asked as he opened the door to the lounge car. Our friends were already seated at the booths.
"Hope you've got good cell service," Soma said, pulling out his phone, "'cause we've got some calls to make."
Turns out Soma intended to call Kuga and Mimasaka to join our team. No one protested the former Eighth Seat's admission, but there was some hesitance in recruiting Mimasaka. Soma was quick to relieve these doubts, and I was surprised when Takumi backed him up. I'm sure he wanted to have a rematch against him, too.
Soma placed his phone on speaker so we could hear the calls, and the two accepted with relative ease. They were already in Hokkaido, as a matter of fact, due to Mimasaka being a first-year and Kuga helping with Soma's last exam.
"Shall I call Isshiki-senpai, then?" I offered as Soma ended the call. He and Megumi nodded, confident our upperclassman would assist, and I opened my contacts. I scrolled down to the contacts under 'S' and dialed Isshiki's number.
But to my horror (and embarrassment), Soma's phone lit up and began to vibrate on the table instead. I dialed the wrong number!
"Sorry, 'Soma' and 'Satoshi' are so close together." I fumbled with my phone.
Noticing everyone's staring, I chanced a glance back at Soma's screen and froze.
There, shining bright and occupying Soma's screen, was my grinning face. I recognized the picture at once—it was the selfie I'd sent him months ago following my Stagiaire, the one I took with Mizuhara. But he'd saved and cropped it so it was just my face.
He... he saved it to his phone? The blood rushed to my face. I sent it on a whim, but I didn't expect him to actually save the photo!
It shouldn't have been that big a deal: I took plenty of pictures of my friends for contact pictures and for fun, but Soma rarely saved photos. At least, I didn't think he did.
I was so caught up in my flustered state that I forgot to end the call. My daze was only broken when the call timed out, and Soma's phone shut off as a result.
The notification, 'Missed call: (Name) 🐻', shone on his screen before it went dark. But I was distracted from the fact that I was saved as my first name due to the bear emoji he'd placed next to it. A bear? Why a bear??
Everyone was staring at me now, even Soma, who was not at all fazed by the display.
In fact, he was shameless enough to josh me for misdialing. "You know you don't have to call me if I'm in the same room, Homura."
"You--" The words died in my throat, my face only growing warmer at his teasing. This was affecting me more than it should have.
"(Name)-chan?" Megumi asked, concerned.
I took a sharp inhale and hastily dialed Isshiki this time, my shaky fingers somehow managing to find his contact. I then placed my phone on speaker onto the table, hoping it would distract my friends as I learned to breathe again.
He answered on the first ring. "(Name)-chan~!"
"Isshiki-senpai," I rasped, then cleared my throat. "Senpai, how... are you?"
My friends sweatdropped as I opted to make small talk. I wasn't at my best at the moment, so could you blame me?
Luckily, Isshiki was astute enough to know why I was calling. "I'm well! Are you calling to ask me to join the Team Shokugeki?"
"Mhm. We've already secured seven members, but we need all the help we can get."
Isshiki laughed. "Well, I'm already on my way. I'm in Asahikawa right now."
The five of us exchanged surprised-looks at this fact. Seems he had the same idea in mind.
"Although I was a bit reluctant to leave." He sighed whimsically. "I was doing just fine raising them on my own, but the kids miss their mommy. You always showered them with attention, (Name)-chan."
Did... did he just--
"'Kids'?" Erina repeated, a scandalized look on her face.
Takumi and Megumi were absolutely gobsmacked. "'Mommy'?"
Unfortunately, the windows didn't open wide enough to let me barrel-roll into oncoming traffic (believe me, I checked). So I could only blush in mortification at the implications of his words.
It was a stupid joke I made in passing, later exaggerated by Isshiki. One day on the farm I called the cabbages my 'children', and after hearing this, the second-year adopted this belief that the crops were our kids and we were their parents. It was funny at first, but now it proved to be my downfall.
Though I couldn't help but worry for my cabbages.
"Mommy's not—I mean, I'm not...! Um." My slip-up caused my brain to buffer. At least it couldn't get worse.
"If the kids are thirsty, Daddy can help with that!" I choked on my spit.
Worse. I made it worse.
"Isshiki!! Isshiki-senpai can help!" I corrected, as if that made things any better.
Too late. The damage was done.
"'D-daddy'..." Takumi repeated and slumped over, pale as a ghost as his soul ascended. Beside him, Megumi was already deceased, arms crossed over her chest in a coffin-like manner.
"Yeah. Homura is such a mom," Soma agreed, unfazed by the oddity of it all while Erina desperately tried to rationalize the situation.
"Don't worry!" Isshiki reassured. "Daddy's taking care of them just fine! But Daddy misses Mommy too..."
"I-Isshiki-senpai..." I croaked, near tears at this point. How was I going to explain this? "You're on speaker."
"Oh?" He hummed, not sounding the least bit abashed. "My bad~"
"Senpai, do you know anyone else who can help us?" Soma spoke up, graciously changing the subject.
The second-year hummed again in thought. "If you're looking for more members, I believe Megishima-san is nearby. He's the former third-seat."
The rest of the call was a blur, honestly. He gave us the details of the third-year, and we thanked him one last time before I hung up. Even over the phone, he somehow found a way to fluster me. I think the past five minutes tired me out more than the day's training.
I was ready to go to sleep now.
"This is good! We currently have eight members on our team—the same amount as Central," Takumi noted as we walked to the sleeper cars together.
Megumi nodded, giving a determined pump of her fist. "Soma-kun and I will go tomorrow morning to see if we can convince Megishima-senpai."
"I'd like to clarify what Isshiki-senpai said earlier," I mumbled, and the pair grew visibly awkward. "No, no. It's nothing bad. Not like that." They relaxed a little.
"What he meant was... the cabbage are my children. I'm a mother of vegetables."
"...I'm sorry?" Takumi frowned, more confused than before.
But Megumi, knowing my history with the farm, connected the dots. "You must mean the dormitory farm!" And the angel proceeded to explain the situation to our friend.
"I see. That... makes a lot more sense." Takumi rubbed his chin, relieved.
"Sorry for the misunderstanding." I chuckled as we arrived at my room. I turned to bid goodnight to the two, but I stopped when I remembered something.
"Wait! Stay right there!" I rushed into the room with no other explanation.
When I stepped back out, I was pleased to see the two remained. I handed each of them their gift and gauged their reactions. "Here! I forgot about them until now, but I bought some souvenirs for y'all back in Sapporo."
"Thank you." They turned the keychains in their hands, trying to discern the odd creature.
"Is it... a frog?" Takumi dangled it by the chain.
"I think," Megumi cradled it in both palms, "I think it's a puppy."
"I have no idea what it is," I admitted, relishing the way they smiled wryly, and laughed. "But it's cute, right? Like some sort of frog-puppy fusion."
"I guess so..?" The two compared their keychains, both different in design yet similar in form. They still seemed uncertain of how to feel.
Although, I'm glad I was finally able to give it to them! I'd been carrying those and many other souvenirs for a while now.
"Anywho, it's sleepy-time now. Rest well for Taco Bell." I bid the two goodnight and entered my room. Their confused expressions were the last thing I saw before I shut the door.
*~*~*~*
"'Taco Bell'?" Takumi repeated, confused.
"(Name)-chan's always been a bit eccentric, but she means well." Megumi giggled good-naturedly. "When we first met, I was hesitant to be honest. She reminded me too much of Soma-kun, whom I was avoiding at the time. But... I'm glad we became friends. If it weren't for those two, I wouldn't be where I am today."
"You're a skilled chef, Tadokoro-san," Takumi assured her, though he understood what she meant. Megumi did the hard work herself, considering the efforts that led to her growth; it was the support of her friends, though, that pushed her to do so.
He could relate, he realized, as he remembered the many times his friends helped him. He and (Name) rarely interacted until that night at the party, back during the Elections, yet that didn't deter her from approaching him. Looking back, Takumi was astonished with how casually he managed to exchange numbers.
Then there were the strange... 'memes' she sent him. There were many things he felt the first time she sent him an 'absolute unit': confusion and concern being the most prominent.
But in addition to her extravagant attachments, she proved to be a worthy confidante. Somehow, the girl had wormed her way past his defenses. And he was unsure if she knew how much her words helped during his darkest times—his loss to Mimasaka was a major blow to his pride, yet she stayed behind to check on him, throw-up and all.
The two chefs regarded the funky frog-dogs in their hands. Even in the little things, she showed she cared.
"Good night, Takumi-kun," Megumi bid him farewell, clutching the souvenir close to her chest.
"Good night, Tadokoro-san," Takumi replied, his own keychain tucked into the safety of his pockets.
Her methods were a little left-field, to say the least, but they were grateful.
*~*~*~*
(Name)'s POV
Another day on the train, and yet another day of training. Cooking under my father's instruction before was nothing compared to the grueling tasks he put me through today. Not only did he have me cook three separate dishes at once, he expected me to serve them at the same time! Then after that, he had me recycle the leftovers into an entirely new dish in half the time. And as the cherry on top, only a quarter of my cooking satisfied him.
"That's all for today, (Name)," he announced from the doorway. I was currently leaning against the counter, drained after his intense regimen. "We'll start again, same time tomorrow. Get plenty of rest before then." I mumbled something between a groan and an 'okay' before he exited. So he was really just gonna beat me down like that then leave?
I shouldn't complain. I can't deny I've learned more in the past few days than I would've in months before. I stood and rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension in my muscles. I just had no idea he could be so strict! I'm starting to see why he held back all those years.
I finished drying the last dish and gave the kitchen a onceover to ensure I got everything. Dishes, produce, utensils—oh. I forgot the nuts.
I grabbed the jar of peanuts and opened the cabinet where they were stored. But right before I could return it to the shelf, the train shook unexpectedly and the jar slipped from my fingers.
"Aw, nuts!" I exclaimed right as the glass shattered on the floor in an explosion of peanuts and shards. Well that wasn't good.
It took an embarrassing amount of self-restraint to not crunch the peanut-glass mixture with my shoes, tempting as it was. Instead, I crouched down and started to pick up the larger fragments.
The sound of the door sliding open alerted me. "I heard a crash! Is everything okay in here?" Takumi rushed in before stopping at the edge of the mess.
I could see his blond head swivel around the room until he spotted me across the counter. "Are you alright?" he asked with alarm, rounding the counter to face me.
"I'm fine! I just dropped a jar. So clumsy." I waved to assure him, but he only panicked once he realized what I was doing.
"Hey! Stop using your bare hands! Let me get a broom!" he scolded and hurried away in search of said tool. I dropped the glass and stood as he returned, taking the dustpan and helping him sweep up the mess.
"Thanks, Takumi-kun. And sorry about this. I can take care of the rest." I tried to take the broom from his hand, but his grip remained firm.
"Don't mention it. I want to help," he insisted, and I released the handle. He narrowed his eyes in disapproval. "Besides, I can't have you picking up glass barehanded, can I?"
"Right, sorry if I scared you. I know that crash was rather..." I locked eyes with him as I poured the remaining glass from the jar into the waste bin, "...jarring."
Takumi offered a wry smile as he returned the broom and dustpan to their places. "It's no problem. But you should be more careful—what if you cut yourself?"
I braced myself when I recognized his tone of voice; Takumi's lecture mode had activated.
"You're a chef! You must take good care of your hands. You can't cook with bloody fingers!" he nagged, gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point (so it's true Italians talk with their hands).
Why does this feel familiar? I wondered as he waggled his finger in my face. Right. Usually I'm the one doing the lecturing after one of Soma's stunts.
I patted his arm, hoping to alleviate some of his frustration. "I'm fine--!"
We both gawked at the blood stain left by my finger, a stark contrast to the pristine white of his chef's uniform. "Oh."
Takumi flipped out as I examined the cut on my finger. I hadn't noticed it before, but now that I did it was starting to burn. The male wasted no time in ushering me into a seat, locating a first aid kit from under the counter as his lecturing went into overdrive.
"Why didn't you say anything?! What if it gets infected? Stop squirming so much." He tightened his grip on my wrist as I wiggled away from the disinfectant wipe. At least he wasn't angry about the blood on his sleeve.
"Takumi-kun, it's just a little cut." I winced at the familiar sting of the alcohol. Disinfecting was always my least favorite part.
"You're bleeding! That's cause for concern alone." He huffed, and I knew there was no winning this fight.
I bit back my tongue while he finished wiping the cut, enduring his endless lecturing as he fretted over nothing. He was making a mountain out of a molehill; this cut was nothing compared to farming blisters or sharp rocks.
Just like in his cooking, Takumi was meticulous in his first aid. It was amusing how absorbed he was in tending to my cut, a slight furrow to his brow, eyes focused and sharp.
Yet his hands were gentle as they handled my own, like I'd break if he wasn't careful. Had it not been for the sting of the alcohol, I might not have felt his feather-light touch.
After he wrapped a bandaid around the cut, he turned both of my hands over in his to double-check his work. I fought the giggles that threatened to escape when his fingers grazed over my palms, tickling my skin despite my many calluses.
I couldn't help but tease him, "What? Are you gonna kiss it better too?"
Takumi's thumbs froze as they passed over my knuckles, and I could feel him stiffen. His gaze shot up to me, wide-eyed. "What?"
"I'm joking." I chuckled, a tad guilty after seeing his reaction.
"Right, of course!" Takumi's spine straightened as he sat rigid, but his fingers lingered on my hands for a moment longer. He realized this and the pink of his knuckles crept up his arms as he went red from the neck up. I could feel his hands start to sweat too.
Perhaps I shouldn't have said that, I thought, worried I made him uncomfortable. The boy seemed petrified with how he stared at our hands, so I offered an apologetic squeeze and smiled at him.
I hoped the gesture would calm him, but it appeared to have the opposite effect when he shot out of his seat and hastily packed up the first aid kit.
"A-anyway, we should—you should, er!" Takumi slammed his finger as he tried to shut the box, a choked sound escaping his throat.
He waved the inflamed appendage and hissed, slipping into Italian. "Sh*t! Uh, s-scusa."
And then he grabbed the kit and ran out of the room with no explanation.
Is... is he okay? I stared at the door which shut behind him. I wondered what got him so flustered all of a sudden. He was usually so composed. In fact, I'd only seen him act like that around Soma. I giggled at this observation. It's crazy how someone who's so cool in the kitchen can be a complete dork outside of it.
Still, I hope his finger's okay. I looked at my own finger, which was now adorned with a bandaid wrapped snug around the cut. He'd be a hypocrite if he hurt himself too.
...Wait, isn't that first aid kit supposed to stay in here?
*~*~*~*
Outside of the kitchen, Takumi slammed the door shut and leaned against it. He quickly realized she could see him through the window, however, and slid down into a crouching position.
Idiot, he repeated inwardly. Idiot idiot idiot!
He dropped the first aid kit (why did he take it with him?) and cradled his head in his hands, not sure if he was more embarrassed by how clammy his palms were or how hot his face felt.
Get it together, Takumi! he chided himself. It was unbecoming of him to act this way, not to mention how rude it was to leave abruptly like that.
If Isami could see him now, he knew his younger twin would have a ball laughing at him. "You're so funny, bro!" he'd probably say as tears shot from his eyes.
Takumi liked to think he was fairly adept with his words. He was told on more than one occasion how charming he was (usually by the girls that followed him around in class), but he never thought much of these comments until moments like these in which he felt anything but suave.
This is starting to become a real problem, Takumi thought. Recently he was becoming more and more distracted, specifically around her. I can't afford any distractions right now! I must focus!
Then he made the mistake of thinking about her hands in his. Her hands were so... dainty? No, that wasn't it. Soft? Nope.
He recalled the various calluses and the rough texture of her skin. Such a feeling was only born through experience, from cooking, and probably from farming. It's a feeling reserved only to those with firsthand experience—to those who knew the ins-and-outs of a kitchen. It was one of the first things he noticed about Yukihira, so why hadn't he noticed hers until now?
He could feel himself develop a new sense of respect for the girl. Yukihira would always remain his rival, but that didn't mean she was any less formidable.
Still, it didn't explain why his heartbeat picked up every time she smiled or teased him.
Why am I such a mess around her? Takumi carded his hands through his hair. All those compliments of 'charming' and 'suave' were starting to feel like a lie. He thought he'd gotten better until yesterday morning when—
Oh gosh. Takumi covered his face with his hands as he recalled how she caught him bridal style. Her arms... were strong. And she lifted him so easily. He doubted he could do the same, had the roles been reversed. Perhaps he needed to start working out?
But the most embarrassing part was... he liked it.
That's it. Just end me now. Takumi brought his hands down to slap the train carpet dramatically, willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
"I'm tired. That's why I'm thinking like this," Takumi reasoned. I should get some rest, or maybe I'll call Isami... Takumi rubbed his temples as he regained his sense of clarity. At least the blood was no longer pounding in his head.
"Takumi, why're you on the floor?"
The Italian nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice and whipped his head up to see none other than his self-proclaimed rival staring down at him. "Yukihira!"
He jumped to his feet then sidestepped when he realized Homura could still see him through the door window.
"Yukihira, aren't you—shouldn't you be training?" He grimaced at his own stammering, but thankfully the redhead didn't seem to notice or care.
"Oh, well, my old man decided he needed a break so I thought to check on the others." He peered inside the kitchen shamelessly. "Hey, there's (Name) now."
Soma swung open the door before Takumi could think to protest. "Homura! What's up?" He stepped into the room, grabbing the girl's attention. "Takumi and I were just talking—"
"Eh?" The pair stared at the empty space behind him, with nothing but a first aid kit on the hall floor. "He's gone."
*~*~*~*
(Name)'s POV
After Takumi left, I actually started to cook again. I knew I should've gone to sleep in preparation for tomorrow's training, but there were a few things I stumbled on today that I hoped to fix: particularly my knife-work.
I was decent with a cooking knife, though I was nowhere near as skilled as Soma or Megumi. And definitely not like Takumi with his mezzaluna. I didn't intend to learn any flashy, show-off tricks (though that'd be cool), but I could at least improve my speed and efficiency.
And the focus of my cutting practice would be none other than an entire raw chicken. I named him after my bestie, Zan-chan!
I remembered how Soma cut the chicken during our match against Eizan. I'd seen Ryou prepare it countless times before, and Kiyoko with just as much skill during class. Meat wasn't my strong suit; like Megumi, I was proficient with vegetables and produce due to Seichomura's close history with farming; meat-handling was Whitewater's specialty. I obviously knew how to cut a chicken (I wasn't that hopeless). It just took longer and wasn't as neat as my friends'.
Soma entered a moment later, mentioning something about Takumi only to find an empty spot behind him. He shrugged it off and retrieved the first aid kit at my request. He then seated himself at the counter as I worked, making small talk as I did.
"So what's up? Didja lose another match to your dad?" I joked and laughed when Soma shot me a dirty look.
"Ha ha ha. Didja knock Takumi off another stool?" he countered. "He seemed pretty shaken up when he rushed out earlier."
Touché, I chuckled.
"Say, how'd the thing with Megishima-senpai go? Did he say he'll join our cause?" I remembered how he and Megumi left early that morning to try and convince the former third-seat.
At once, Soma's mood shifted. He drooped, sitting cross-legged on the stool, then leaned forward to rest his head on the countertop. "No." He closed his eyes, chin resting on the marble surface, and exhaled. He seemed tired.
"I failed."
I noted the way he phrased it, as if Soma felt it was he who failed. Did he blame himself?
...Hm. I stared for a moment, then grinned as bright as I could. "Soma-kun! Are ya' hungry?" The boy peeked open an eye. "Hang tight. I'll whip you up something delicious."
He perked up and lifted his head, unable to hide his excitement. "Sweet! You're the best, Homura~"
At least the promise of food cheered him up. I laughed and returned to cutting the chicken.
It would've been nerve-wracking having him watch me attempt something I was weak at, but I felt comfortable around Soma. In fact, I felt more confident as I made the cuts I found were appropriate. Soma noticed this and commented on it, attributing my improvement to my Stagiaire and the like. "Seems Mizuhara-senpai taught you some tricks. You're faster than before."
I shook my head, admitting I still had much to learn. "My cuts are nowhere as clean as yours."
"Hm..." Soma rubbed his chin, suddenly thoughtful before he stood and came up next to me. "I said I'd teach you some knife tricks before, so here." I handed him the knife and gave him room. "Watch closely."
He grabbed an onion and halved it, handing me one half then dicing the other quickly. He cut it differently from other chefs, but it was faster and produced a finer result. When he was done, he looked at me and grinned. "Nothing too dangerous. Got it?"
I rolled my eyes and took back the knife. "You just wanna keep the showy stuff to yourself, eh?" I mimicked his actions and diced the onion, producing a near-identical result. I wasn't as fast as him, but I'd get there.
"Not bad, young grasshopper." He lifted his chin, tone laden with mischief from his role as temporary-teacher. He then instructed me on how to remove the tendons without ruining the chicken. I did fine to start thanks to his basic instructions, but the further I got, the harder it was for him to explain.
"Wait, clockwise or counter-clockwise?" I paused my ministrations, not wanting to spoil my hard work. "Soma, this is clockwise. Yes, I'm sure!"
We argued over the difference in directions before Soma huffed. He stepped forward and moved towards the knife, his jaw set with stubbornness. "You know what? Here."
What? Is he just gonna do it himself? I thought bitterly before I felt him move behind me. I couldn't have been farther from the truth, I realized, when his arms came around me to place his hands atop my own and guide me through the motions. The warmth of his palms against my knuckles was a shocking contrast to Zan-chan's cold flesh. I stopped breathing as I registered just how close he was. He was practically pressed against my back, with his arms trapping me in.
"Hold it like this," he instructed, and his index finger nudged mine further back. "Makes it easier to hold."
I adjusted my grip and felt him hum in approval. "Good." Then he finally focused on cutting the chicken.
"Oh, I see. This is clockwise," he muttered half to himself as he adjusted his fingers around my own.
He chuckled, and his breath tickled my ear as he leaned over my shoulder. The sensation only acted to send a shiver down my spine, and I felt my back quake against his chest which now pressed against me. I could feel his steady heartbeat between my shoulder blades, but that only made me worry he could feel my own heart beating faster than Smashmouth's All Star (104 bpm).
I followed the guidance of his hands and tried to focus on the chicken, but that was pretty much impossible with how much my hands were shaking. "Didja drink soda or something? You're shaking like a roomba," he asked, amused.
"What..?" I paused, only semi-aware of my surroundings. "What's a roomba?"
"Sentient broom."
"What?!"
Soma laughed again, the sound crisp and loud (ow) in my ear like a fresh bag of chips. I'd heard of the term before but still had no idea what it meant. Was it one of those A.I. things?
"I'm kidding. Here, cut like this." He changed the subject and adjusted my hands again. I found myself able to focus this time and followed his instructions. "Your grip is fine, but focus the movement from here. Angle the blade like so and... there!"
I lit up as I stared at the chicken breast before me, all embarrassment washed away by pride. "I did it! That's the cleanest cut yet!" Soma stepped back as I reveled in my victory, grinning in amusement as I went ahead and diced the remaining onion.
"You've done well, my disciple." He puffed out his chest but arched his scarred brow when I sniffed. "Are... are you crying?"
I'd made the grave mistake of staring directly at the onions while chopping. I struggled to keep the tears at bay, to no avail. "The... the onions."
"Not again." Soma groaned jokingly as he realized the reason, and I smacked his arm.
"No, it's the onions! Literally!" I protested then went to wipe my tears.
Soma grabbed my wrists to stop me. "Oi! You'll contaminate your eyes!"
"But it burrrrns..." I whined, squinting at his blurry form of red and blue.
The rattle of the door alerted us of a third presence in the kitchen, and it took much rapid blinking for me to recognize the tall figure. "Dad?"
"(Name), I came to see if—" The man looked at me and my tear-stained face, then to Soma who held both of my wrists captive. An unrecognizable look (one I'd never seen before) settled upon his face, and I felt several chills run down my spine. Soma must've felt it too because he paled and released me, taking two steps back and holding his arms up in surrender.
We watched in mild confusion as my father stuck his head out into the hall. "Joichiro!" My father raised his voice(?!).
"Say goodbye to your son."
Oh, shoot. I gulped as he turned back around and made a beeline for the redhead. He's about to end this man's whole career.
"Dad, chill! It's--" I tried to stop him, but I was still very much crying and hiccuped on my words. "O-o-oniooon..!"
"I-it was the onions!" Soma agreed, holding his hands up in surrender. For once, he actually looked frightened. "It was the onions this time!"
My father loomed over him, face hidden by shadow. "'This time?'"
Why did you phrase it that way, Soma? I sweatdropped.
Soma croaked in fear right as his own dad appeared in the doorway. "Heyyyy, is it a party in here or what?" Joichiro sang, parading in without a care in the world.
My father looked ready to fight now, sending the same bone-chilling glare towards the elder-Yukihira. "Joichiro."
Joichiro jumped, sweating a little. "Eh? Can't remember the last time I saw you this pissed, Yasuo. Soma's not causing you any trouble is he?" He laughed flippantly.
"Not nearly as much trouble as Shuu has," I mumbled, noticing the bite mark on my dad's ankle. So young, yet so full of rage.
Joichiro caught on to the hint, for he lit up and slapped my father on the back. "Two kids? Yasuo, you dog!"
Joichiro cackled and attempted to ruffle his hair, but my father skillfully dodged his grabby hands as if he'd done so for years. "Joichiro, would it hurt you to please leave me and my dignity be? For once??"
I simpered at the sight of my flustered father—he was usually so composed, yet Joichiro barely had to lift a finger to perturb him.
"So that's how it is, huh?" Joichiro crossed his arms. "Not a word from you for over a decade, then lo and behold, you've got a kid my son's age! I wouldn't have even recognized her had it not been for those cheesy puns."
My father and I both raised our eyebrows suggestively. "'Cheesy'?"
Joichiro sweat-dropped. "See what I mean?"
"Tch. You're one to talk, Dad! Didn't Dojima-senpai say you never called him for years before?" Soma countered.
"That's different," Joichiro dismissed the idea, though I wasn't sure how it was different. "Besides, I wouldn't hate to hear from my former travel-buddy every so often."
Soma and I exchanged a look of shock. "'Travel-buddy??'"
"It wasn't intentional," came my father's hasty reply.
They traveled together?! I remembered my dad mentioning he was a travelling-chef before he married my mom, but I never thought he'd travel with Soma's dad of all people.
I thought back to my very first day at Polar Star. Soma and I both used the poêlé method to cook for Isshiki despite having never traveled before. Did... did our father's partnership have a hand in us both knowing that? Exactly how long did they travel together?
We were given no chance to further question it when my father placed his hand on my shoulder to guide me out. "Now, if you'll excuse us--"
"Yasuo." Joichiro's voice dropped an octave, now serious, and it was enough to stop my father in his tracks. He spared a glance over his shoulder at the elder Yukihira.
"What do you say we settle this the old fashion way? Right here, right now." Soma and I shared another look. Could he mean..?
"That's right," Joichiro smirked, confirming our suspicion. Across from him, my father suppressed the grimace that fought its way onto his face.
"A Shokugeki."
*~*~*~*
A/N: a bit of a longer chapter than usual. Thanks for reading!
So what did you think? Would Homura be the knight or the princess? Do you think Yasuo will accept Joichiro's challenge?? Will Soma get the free meal Homura promised him?!? Find out next time~
Next Update:
March 15th, 2021