The Autumn Election begins in September.
The High School first years were stoked with excitement. Unfortunately Sekimori was expelled before it, but of the four other first years in the dorms, two made it into the list.
"Stew? That's the topic this year?"
Shinomiya nods, looking around for any sign of their high school seniors. Coming to the arena to witness the election prelims, they were surrounded by high school students and it was honestly kind of intimidating.
"I... am feeling bloated just thinking about it," Eda murmured, looking at the map.
"You're in a cooking school. Why are you even surprised?" Shinomiya pulled at Eda's collar before he walked off. "I see Mizuhara and Sena. We're joining them so we can be lost together."
"Oh?"
Sena found them at the same time Shinomiya did, and Shinomiya's face scrunched up displeasurably. Sena beamed, completely undeterred by the waves of annoyance sent in his direction. Eda was more than happy to reflect the joy, because he wasn't a prick.
He's so relieved he doesn't have to be lost with Shinomiya in the den of hellhounds. Mizuhara, however, sharpened with hostility at the sight of Shinomiya.
"...it's nice to meet you," her voice was soft, when she finally turned away from glaring at Shinomiya to greet Eda.
"Nice to meet you," he couldn't help but respond just as meekly.
"You guys are here to watch, too?" Sena asked.
"Our seniors from the dorms are competing," Shinomiya snarled at him. "Mizuhara is here to learn, I can guess. Are you here to fool around, Sena?"
Sena brightly responded, "nope! Here to learn, too. We have the day off because the teachers are busy, after all."
They say the greatest counter to unjustified anger is to 'be as nice as possible', and Sena clearly got that lesson down to pat and perfection. Shinomiya screeched in defeat in the corner as Eda silently died of second hand embarrassment.
"We can meet with our seniors and go in together," Eda suggested, "less likely to get cornered or lost like that."
"Cornered?" Mizuhara asked, a little wary of why he even thought of that.
"Lost, eh? I guess Shinomiya's horrible sense of direction has even you stumped," Sena said, mildly, and Shinomiya almost whirled around at the chance to retaliate before Eda interrupted.
"Help me," Eda pleaded. "But I'm at least glad we won't be too out of place here with you two around too... it's so scary being in a crowd of high school students..."
Shinomiya interrupted curtly, "why are you two together, huh?"
There's a blink of confusion from the two addressed.
"Because... we're partnered together in all of our classes?" Sena answered. "And, well, no one else wanted to come here, and who would come to this kind of place on their own?"
He answered it so casually that Shinomiya just turned around and wilted in defeat.
He can't do this. Make an offensive joke in his direction and it flies right over his head. Mizuhara definitely understood it, but she was so baffled by Sena's oblivion that her argument also died in her throat. It's almost impressive.
(Eda has an inkling that Sena definitely knows and he's just messing with them all, but under that firm smile no one knows for sure.)
"Give it a rest, Shinomiya," Eda said, sympathetically. "Let's just relax and watch the competition, can we?"
"Yeah. Yeah, let's do that."
-
The four of them settle by the Polar Star seniors as they cheer on the participants. People are cooking amazing things down there and Fumi can't look around fast enough.
Everyone seems to have their eyes on the favourites, though, and they're talking it up fervently. Eda didn't pay much attention to it. Someone was making curry. Beef or similarly rich meat stews seemed to be the most common option.
"Ther'es someone doing a vegetarian stew!" Shinomiya pointed out, excited. "Nice!"
"That's going to be really difficult," Sena said, "vegetables just don't have much impact compared to meats. I wonder how he's going to make up the difference."
"It's possible," Shinomiya bristled, "seriously, one day I'm going to bash your head in and reset the part of it that has a meat complex."
Sena beamed. "I'm looking forward to it, Shinomiya!"
Eda decided not to bother with that energy. It's exhausting, why is Shinomiya even trying?
"What would you make?"
He jumped, realizing the question was directed at him. Mizuhara was naturally quiet, so he didn't expect her to start the conversation when they were just looking down, absorbed in all the varieties down there.
Ah, no one's making dessert. Guess that makes sense... it's a stew battle, after all, everyone's going to be serving up nutrient rich, filling, and piping hot stews one after another. Putting out a dessert now runs the risk of not being an acceptable dish on a skill level, and most of all, you're opening up a whole new judgement criteria. If you don't blow the judges away, they'll be horrifically disappointed.
"...what about you?"
Eda had no idea what he would make, if he was presented with this theme.
"Beef Stew," Mizuhara's answer was immediate. She would dive, right into the most fervent part of the competition— for the quietest one of the group, that's somehow very fitting. She would charge, right into the epicentre, and make herself known. "A Tuscan Red Wine Beef Stew... I'll have to make the best possible stew I can. It's my specialty, how else will I fight?"
"I'd go with a lamb scouse," Sena says, inserting himself into the conversation. "Stew is my playing field, too. If I back down from it, I'd be ashamed!"
And that certainly makes sense.
"Definitely a ratatouille. I'd mop the floors with all of you," Shinomiya insisted. "Cowards."
Eda couldn't help but laugh at that.
He wondered if the judges ever get heartburn, eating all these stews at once. If that ever happens, a nice, cold Tong Sui would be so good for a refresher.
Might be a little too homely for a competition of this scale, though.
"Eda?"
"Ah—" he chuckled, "I... don't know, honestly."
"Stop being so indecisive," Shinomiya groaned, "if the time comes where you'll have to come up with your own dish on the fly, you'll just waste time deliberating like that."
"Now, now," Sena soothed, "for the Autumn Elections, I hear they get at least a month to think it all over. It's fine, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but what if they don't?"
-
Autumn Elections are intense, and one of the seniors even makes it into the finals. Unfortunately for the Junior High students, that's where their day offs end.
"The guy that used oxtail was interesting."
"I quite liked the curry stew myself... if he didn't get points docked for the overdone potatoes, he'd have definitely made it in."
"Vegetable stew didn't make it, but I guess that was to be expected."
"The girl with the Chinese herbal recipe was interesting, though."
Eda listened enviously as they chatted about the competition the next day. He stood beside Shinomiya with a sigh.
Suddenly being back in a place where no one can understand you is quite— well, demotivating. Yesterday was very impressive— he'd never been in such a huge arena before where everyone inside cooked to such a high level. It wasn't until he left the room that he'd realized how thick the smell of stew and spices had been, that outside felt like fresh air.
Even such pleasant smells were just like humidity to him now.
"Pay attention now, class," the teacher walked in. "Before we begin class today, I'll need to brief you all regarding the term exams that are coming up for you all."
Oh, right. This is a school.
"As you all may know, exams in Tootsuki are vital to your advancement to the next grade. Even in Junior High, performing badly is grounds for an immediate expulsion. The Junior High section only have annual and bi-annual tests that go this far, but in High School, there are many more, not including official Shokugeki."
Oh, right. This is that kind of school.
"Now, I'll explain how the first year tests will work."
By the time the paper reaches his hands, Shinomiya is already shaking him to focus, damn it, focus.
"You'll be working in teams of two just as you are right now, to serve a two-course meal," he says. Well, wasn't that merciful. You get to work in a team with a person you're familiar with. "Before the test begins, however, you have to decide who makes which dish, and you'll be separately judged to the standards of the dishes. While you may work on preparations and support each other in the kitchen, ultimately, the dish must be finished individually. Any questions?"
...yes???
What the hell??
"S- Sir?!" the sentiment is shared across literally everyone in the room, "but, sir! Wouldn't a main dish be naturally judged higher than an appetiser or a dessert?"
"Not necessarily," the teacher says, and doesn't elaborate. "But you two in the team have to deal with the separation yourself."
While it really isn't necessarily so, these first years who've been learning the basics in their year here, would find it much easier to complete a fulfilling main dish than they would something as delicate as an appetiser or dessert, which in a two-course meal exist to enhance and supplement the hero, the main dish.
Why would you expect first years to make a good two-part dish that doesn't conflict with tastes, anyways? There's a dessert class for first years, but it's only emphasized as much as Ingredients. All their important classes have focused on main dishes. Appetisers only come up once a blue moon in their lessons.
"Sweet," Shinomiya grins, "we've got an advantage over everyone else! They'll all be trying for appetisers, and even the ones going for dessert won't stand a chance against you."
Is this the time to be so positive? "You're not wrong," Eda supposed, "but still... isn't this a bit of a high hurdle for the rest of the first years?"
There's definitely a reason why Tootsuki's graduation rate is so low.
"Heh. Who cares?" Shinomiya slung an arm around Eda's shoulder. "Worry about ourselves!"
"And the test is next week."
Now everyone, including Shinomiya, shrieked at the teacher, "NEXT WEEK?"
"Yeah, they're happening in tandem with the Autumn semis."
-
The finals for the Autumn Selections were still underway, which meant the kitchen was busy with their seniors experimenting recipes.
"The school will provide basic ingredients and anything you request to some degree, but for special requests you'll have to get it approved and get it yourself."
"I see, so, like Sekimori-senpai's tea leaves?" Shinomiya asked.
"Yep, perfect example."
"I see... then I'll have to get the piniot noir myself somehow..." Shinomiya frowned. "Ah, sorry to bother you at a time like this, Nakagawa-senpai."
"No worries! I needed a taste tester, anyway."
In the Polar Star Dormitory, only one had advanced to the finals. His specialty was in dishes using dairy, so his next theme of pizza was right up his alley.
"You're making a quattro formaggi, right?"
"Exactly. The key will be in the ingredients. I'm thinking of borrowing some of the ingredients made by our dormmates, but I'm still missing something. I think it needs more, you know... maybe I'll split it in half. Fill the other side with white sauce... you think sour cream will work well?"
"S- what?"
"Yeah. I think it's a german thing..."
Shinomiya honestly thought the pizza was perfect. The gorgeously dripping cheese melted luxuriously on his tongue, the prickling sourness of the tomato sauce clinging to the savoury bitterness of the cheese— it sits warm against the smoky sweetness of the crust, and the fresh herbs united it all together without making it too heavy.
And yet, Nakagawa-senpai wasn't satisfied with it.
It just made him realize that he had so much further to go.
"Ah— where's Eda-kun, by the way?" Nakagawa-senpai asked. "Aren't you two supposed to be working on your finals together?"
"Oh, right!" Shinomiya spun around, "he went to the greenhouse for fruits!"
-
"You're making beef bourguignon, right? I want to keep things simple. So a key lime pie, or maybe a pina colada... I'll be trying some things. I want to make a pumpkin pie, honestly, but savoury things will be too rich to go with your bourguignon, so I won't."
The only requirements in the exam theme were that the main dish must be a meat dish. If that weren't the case, Shinomiya would be ditching it in an instant and making a mushroom bourguignon instead.
"You with your sour flavours again..."
"Geez, I like it, okay?!"
"You sure it'll be enough, though?" Shinomiya asked, "it's nothing special."
Even then, it's fine. It's Junior High, after all— it's not the raging warfront of high school. In Junior High, as long as you stay consistent and play it safe, you'll make it through even if you're just scraping by.
Everyone's going for dishes that they've learned in class. The ones trying riskier options not in the curriculum are the minority, but Shinomiya and Eda are in the category now.
"Woah... the Polar Star dormitory's amazing. I saw the Strawberry farm out back."
Shinomiya lifted his head from the lime plants to see Sena and MIzuhara have come. Since the practice rooms were all occupied, they'd been offered to practice in the Polar Star kitchens, and here they were.
"You guys are always here, huh?" Sena asked.
"School on a weekend is weird," Mizuhara said.
Eda stood up with a basket of his harvest. "Have you guys decided what to make yet? And who's making what?"
"Pretty much!"
For their team, Mizuhara is making tomato and pesto focaccia; and Sena's making Buffalo wings. Utterly bizarre options for junior high first years that have never learned any of these things in class.
"You're going to be set on fire one day, Sena," Shinomiya warned, dryly, "you sure you wanna work with this guy, Mizuhara? It's dangerous for you."
Mizuhara shrugged. "When I stand beside him, no one else gets close. It's nice."
Sena beamed.
Shinomiya almost felt too bad to enlighten him, "dude, that's the exact opposite of a compliment. Don't look so happy."
-
They ended up working on their dishes together.
"Are you TRYING to kill the judges," Shinomiya snarled at the sour cream that Eda had just finished making. "This isn't just sour, it's a sourness BOMB."
"So, perfect?" Eda asked.
"I hope your organs shrivel up with one mouthful of this."
Eda put it in his mouth anyways. "It makes my tongue tingly."
"It's making your brain tingly too. It's apparently not working up there," Shinomiya turned to the others for some semblance of a voice of reason, "someone. Anyone know how to make it less sour?"
"Add sugar," Sena hollered from the sizzling pan.
"Do it over," Mizuhara said, setting down her baked focaccia on the table. She quickly cut herself a piece and ate it piping hot. "Hmm... it's missing something."
Sena leaned over, and Mizuhara quickly shore off a bite-sized piece for him, too.
"The flavours just aren't coming through as strongly as the fragrance suggests, huh?" he thought. "The spices are perfect, but it's not translating into flavour."
Shinomiya was taking a bite now, too. "You used the tomatoes you brought, right? They're a bit less sweet because they're not very fresh anymore. Wanna try using the Polar Star tomatoes?"
"We can?"
"Sure, we can just go back and grab some. Might as well take some herbs from Shiomi-senpai's workshop, too— WHAT ARE YOU DOING, DUNCEDA?"
Eda, while they were talking, had taken a bite. After a moment of deliberating, he'd slathered the sour cream he was working on generously over the focaccia and took a hefty bite.
It's not the most bizarre combination, but not only was it rude— look, Mizuhara's completely frozen with shock! You've broken her!
"Does it matter," Eda asked. "I mean, a spritz of lime makes all bland things better."
"That was not a spritz," Shinomiya said, "and isn't that for soups and stews?"
"Oh hey, I don't know why, but this works," Sena had helped himself to the same bizarre serving option. "The sour cream is so sour it's a crime to the universe, but that actually does well with the savoury pesto and focaccia bread. If we can find the right balance—"
"My sour cream is fine," Eda insisted.
"What?" Mizuhara was utterly offended to hear that was an improvement to her dish. "Give me that."
"Not you too, Mizuhara!" Shinomiya was losing his faith in humanity at this point.
"What are you kids making?"
Senior Nakagawa had just come back from a grocery run when the kids were making a whole fuss. Again.
"Oh, is that sour cream? What a coincidence," he glanced over and took a little taste, "I was just in a stump, you know, I needed sour cream for my dish, but the cheese always overpowers it so I need to figure out how to... what the hell is this."
"My sour cream is fine," Eda insisted, very wearily.
"Ah- yes, it's uh, fine," the senior began. "Actually wait. It's perfect."
"What."
"Nakagawa-senpai, stop encouraging this guy!"
"No, no, I'm like, serious," he said. "This is exactly what I needed to finish my damn pizza for the finals. Eda-kun, let me use this?"
"What?"
"You can take whatever you want from my expensive dairy stock in exchange. This is going to win me the fucking Autumn Elections no I'm serious!"
And so, the bowl is liberated from Eda's hands, and the senior plants a very grateful peck on his cheek before running off.
Leaving all the first years just frozen in place.
"...very affectionate," Sena provided.
Mizuhara continued chewing on her slice of focaccia with the sour cream on top.
"Well," Shinomiya said, "at least he took away the stuff. Now please remake it with a reasonable amount of sourness in it."
"I probably won't make it as sour, but adding it into my dish might be a good idea," Mizuhara admitted.
"Honestly, with how sour it was before it sat for at least 24 hours, imagine how sour it'd be on the day of," Sena said. "You impress me often, Eda-kun, but I never realized just how much."
Eda wailed in utter devastation, "my sour cream is FINE!"
-
"Yes, this is the Candy Appreciation Society, how may I— are you a junior high student? What are you doing all the way here, isn't it exam season?"
Eda simply points at the cotton candy machine.
"...what?"
Eda has dark circles under his eyes.
"That," he demands. "Please."
"What?"
-
("Eda," Shinomiya began slowly, his words tinging on the edge of an incoming lecture.)
("I got it fair and square in a Shokugeki!" Eda cut right in defensively, covering the machine bodily as if that would hide the fact that all the seniors are eating their hearts out, "fair and square! You're not taking the texture of fluffy cotton melting on my tongue away from me! How else am I supposed to destress??")
("We left you alone for FIVE MINUTES!")
-
Eda and Shinomiya went into the exams confidently.
There wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that they would be fine. They ace all their classes, and after practicing their dish alongside Mizuhara and Sena back and forth, everyone in Polar Star already knew that these four would be the stars of their generation. They were leaps and bounds ahead of their peers.
Lining up for their turn in the exam hall, Eda took in a firm breath, and Shinomiya patted him on the back.
"What are you so nervous about?" Shinomiya snarked. "Who do you think you're standing next to, huh?"
And Eda huffed. "Maybe I'm worried about you messing up."
He got boxed over the skull.
Eda laughed as Shinomiya howled indignantly, "I'm always picking up after you! Be ashamed, you dunce!"
And Eda snickered. "Yeah. Thanks, Shinomiya."
Shinomiya paused.
"Wait, what did you just say?"
"Oh, it's our turn to go in," Eda hurried forward after the line, "Come on, Pinkymiya! Let's crush this test!"
"Hold on, repeat that!"
They both stepped into the classroom, and to their assigned workstation, side by side.
They shared a grin, and when Eda raised his arm, Shinomiya returned the gesture, their upper arms bumping acknowledgingly.
They've never messed up before, when they were together.
That's why, they're not about to start now.
They really weren't about to start now, but alas.
-
"Miya, a minute to the pot," Eda called. "Get it up on this side, I'll get you the serving dish, and we can present it right away."
"Got it," Shinomiya called, wiping his hands dry of chopping the fruits and rounding the kitchenspace to access the stove from the outer side. He raises the lid to let out the steam, leaving it aside before raising it off the counter toward—
—another student.
She had been tasting her own dish, from the opposite workspace. And when her teammate snarled something sharply at her, she flinched back—
—right into Shinomiya.
There's a moment of pure terror as the uncovered bourguignon jolted, and Shinomiya's upper arm hit the side of the boiled pot before it clashed against the counter, and his other hand slipped from the handle in surprise.
He instinctively gripped harder with his other arm, elbow curling in to grip the pot despite the stinging burn it slowly prickled into his skin— but it's too late. The pot's upturning sharply in the other direction, right for the girl that belatedly twisted around with alarm.
Shinomiya shoved her to the side so quickly.
And the contents scorch right onto his arm.
There was painful, horrified silence before the pot finally crashed against the tiles, a sharp shriek of metal and marble muting the gasps from those that witnessed the scene.
"A– I'm so— sorry!" the girl gasped, toppling against the ground beside her workspace. She got up quickly, "oh my— god, oh my god, I—"
Shinomiya's still on his feet, though his knees are bent, and he holds his arms close to his chest, fingers curled but no touching. His face scrunched up agonizingly, his teeth grit—
—and the second the girl made a move toward him his voice comes out with so much anger.
"Could you fucking WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, you fucking IDIOT?!"
(Do you know who are the most annoying chefs in a kitchen? The idiots running around with eyes on the ground and brains in the clouds. The one that's like a headless chicken, unaware of their surroundings, causing trouble for everyone.)
She reeled, tears prickling in her eyes. She knew, very well, those are exactly the words she deserved, and all she could say was a fearful, sputtering, "I'm— I'm sorry—"
"What the hell is your pathetic SORRY supposed to fix—"
Eda is spurred back into reality, "SHINOMIYA!" he yelled, hurrying to put down everything in his hands and rounding the side.
"Don't touch—"
"SHUT!" Eda snapped at him, wrenching him by the sleeve and tugging him back toward the kitchen, turning on the tap before placing his arm firmly under it. He jabs a finger in his direction as he winded back to the other side "You, stand here, run that under the water, do not fucking move!"
And Shinomiya clamped right shut, though he pointedly growled in protest.
"You!" Eda spun back to the girl, who was still on the ground, "are you burned?"
She jumped as she was addressed. Eda's harried look spurred her into a frantic shake of her head.
"Then don't waste time there. Go back and work on your own dish before it overcooks!"
She leapt to her feet, "B-but—!!"
"He's right," the teacher hurried over. "Haruno, go back to your dish, quickly. Shinomiya, keep that under the running water for another two minutes, I called the nurse. And to the rest of the class, no one come this way until the spill is cleaned, understood?"
"But sensei—!!" Shinomiya began
"I understand this is an unfortunate situation, Shinomiya. But even in a situation like this, you must keep the kitchen running," he said. "You may unravel your grievances after the test is over— for now, you have to prioritise. What dish will you be serving, now that your initial dish is ruined?"
Eda had to do a double take.
Are you kidding me? They're not getting an extension. Everyone saw the accident, Shinomiya is injured— but they're not getting an extension, even though expulsion is on the line. Are you fucking kidding me?
"In a real kitchen, if you simply cancel an order because the chef got injured, you will never get any customers," the teacher said. "If you want to be a professional chef in Tootsuki, this is something you have to learn to overcome."
Eda is overcome by the desire to strangle him, but he shook the thought away for now. Mainly because it was way too obvious Shinomiya was closer to explosion point than him, and one of them had to be calm here.
"Are you fucking ki—"
"Shinomiya," Eda interrupted.
Shinomiya was young and inexperienced and the irrationalities of the adult world had yet to seize him. Eda, however, was very well aware that when unreasonable things occur, it was much easier on everyone to just move on and work to solve it.
His past life's memories kept him calm. For now.
Eda had to be calm. Because right now,---- right now, he was the only one in the two that could. He couldn't cry right now, he couldn't cower and falter. Shinomiya helped him so many times, he had to do it this time.
He had to pull his own weight, too.
"It's ridiculous! It's impossible now for us to serve up our first dish in time—"
"Then you serve your dish second," Eda decided, immediately turning back to his workspace, to his ingredients.
He had the dough, he had the sour cream, he had the fruits cut. But his key lime pie would have to be put on the back burner.
"Right now, I'll convert my dessert into an appetizer and serve that," he said. "You go get your wounds treated, and come right back. And then, remake your dish."
"There's no way it'll stew in time—"
"Then figure out a way to!" Eda yelled.
Shinomiya fell silent.
"I'll prepare everything else," Eda said. "So, focus on coming right damn back as quickly as you can! Are you serious about this or are you going to keep fucking WHINING?"
Shinomiya reeled back.
His teeth grit.
Then, with familiar vitriol, "FINE! It's on, you fucking dumbass!" he yelled right back. Eda couldn't suppress the excited grin that crawled its way up his face as Shinomiya's fury was replaced with their usual rivalry. "But when I come back, you better not be crying under a damn table!"
"Just get the hell out!" Eda howled.
Shinomiya was dragged out by the nurses, and Eda spun back around to pause at the sight of everyone staring even more blatantly than before.
The teacher cleared his throat.
And Eda bumbled out, finally embarrassed, "we'll be fine, sir! Sorry for the commotion!"
They'll be fine.
After all, Eda and Shinomiya were a dream team, and their combination wasn't a one-way thing. Eda was going to prove it all, right this instant.