AN: Haruno is an OC, of course, and so is Nakagawa-senpai. I just realized I needed to fill up a bit more of the general character roster... I couldn't find anymore characters I could stuff in the right age range, and I couldn't keep calling them all Mob Character #n forever.
Also, this story is basically me enjoying the 'I Live to Eat' lifestyle, so I finally realized I needed some more cultural appreciation here. Malaysian food in cooking anime WHEN? Fine I'll do it myself.
I think I'll skip Winter break and head straight for the Moon Festival in the next chapter, to close the year. Time to introduce Hinako, Donato, and bring Sekimori back! The pacing might skip around more from now, because after all that setup, I plan to timeskip to Eda's HS 1st Year where the real trial and tribulations begin.
-
"Ah— wait!"
Shinomiya snatched up Eda's shoulder.
"Make a batch of your sour cream."
Eda blinked in surprise at that. This bastard was so discomposed, but he could still think up solutions so quickly? He's no normal junior high schooler, and Eda's the one grimly thinking this.
Shinomiya's eyes were strained,his lips chewed down immediately after he gets the words out. Ah, the burn must hurt. And he's still thinking up solutions? Madman, utter madman.
Eda watched as Shinomiya was indignantly escorted right back out the door.
Alright, think. Something savoury— it's completely out of his comfort zone, but he had no choice. He had to improvise this appetiser, but he couldn't half-ass this.
He needed to keep in mind the extensive prep for Shinomiya's dish, too. He had to get all the long things ready first, so Shinomiya could get right into it. Keep track of his own dish and Shinomiya's at the same time—
(He thinks of a kitchen with dozens of ovens, batches upon batches of pastries being cooked up in a single morning.)
(And he smiles.)
"Yeah, that'll be a piece of cake for me."
There's no one with better focus in the kitchen than him.
-
"Well... holy shit," someone whispered.
"He's boiling potatoes on one side, tenderizing meat now, and did he just put that dough at the side? He's doing everything halfway."
"No, he's not doing them halfway..."
Eda covered the marinade just in time to wipe his hands on his apron and turn around. The oven beeped the moment before he reached the mittens, and he took out the dried tomatoes before setting them on the table. He immediately set down the garlic, shoving it right into the oven and closing it for another round.
Then, he moved onto the dough, peeling them off into equal size on the tray. He stuffed them with herbs and worked so quickly, only glancing briefly to the side to turn down the heat on the potatoes before they boiled over.
And then, when the oven beeped once more, he systematically removed the garlic and replaced it with the tray of bread.
"...he knows exactly what he's doing."
He moved, so robotically, it was impossible to deny that he knew every detail of what he was doing, down to the second. His hyperfocused gaze never left his kitchen space. His steps were minimal, his movements efficient. He didn't pause even to take a breath or recalibrate his process.
He just moved, and didn't stop.
He skimmed the milk on the stove. Melted down herb butter and spun it into mashed potatoes together with some milk.
He spurred some sour cream to life on the counter and let it sit as long as it could. He caramelised onions, and made a salsa of all the vegetables he'd baked, spurring them together with sour cream and vinaigrette.
He didn't falter even a bit, and he did it all in complete silence. A jarring contrast to his usual performance in class— usually he'd either be in a mess, or he'd be a chaotic perfection. He was only ever so well-performing alone, and yet, now, in the center of the classroom, he enchanted them all with his unwavering focus.
A little under forty minutes under the clock. He had ten minutes to get the first dish served, and he was well on his way when—
—the door slammed open and Shinomiya returned.
His arms were covered in bandages, and he was pulling on gloves as he came back, securing them firmly to the middle of his upper arms. Some bandages still peeked out toward his elbow, but he took his station quickly.
"Where do you need me?"
Right onto business.
Eda's focus doesn't break.
"Take this," he set down the thing he was mixing, and turned toward the oven right as it pinged for the bread to be done baking.
Shinomiya tasted it, cringed, and then he winced at the sight of the oven, "please tell me that's not sourdough."
Eda set it down on the counter. "I won't tell you, then."
"Mother of god, grant me patience," Shinomiya marched toward the condiments shelf, "because if you grant me strength..."
Sugar goes into the salsa.
"Get me some nuts on the pan," Shinomiya called, setting the bowl down on the table. Eda moved, though he frowned in confusion. "Char the pineapples with them."
Eda got to work as Shinomiya reached for the dish cabinets, seemingly sourcing a specific plating dish for the sauce.
"Tell me you have a plan for the presentation."
"I'm winging it."
"You're supposed to say yes," Shinomiya snarled, but it's light. "Get those nuts in the mix in five. I'm starting the stew, what are the things I have left?"
"Gravy and aromatics. I threw a bit too much key lime into the marinade, just mellow it out with anise before serving."
"Got it," Shinomiya deemed.
They turned back to their stations immediately, setting to work.
It's the most civil anyone has ever seen them work together, and honestly, some of the class glanced over very concerned that they were just a duo waiting to explode.
They didn't.
They worked, quietly, passing each other at just the right times. They spoke, only when necessary, and yet, it was like they already knew what was going to happen the second before either of them spoke up.
"Miya, is this good enough?"
"Toss some pepper in, Eda. The fragrance is lacking."
"Gotcha— ah, Miya, If you're using those mushrooms, don't cube them, use them whole. And only use the ones around the same size as the carrots, or they'll ruin the whole texture."
"If you say so."
And just like that, they moved onward.
"Do you still have that thing you took from Nakagawa-senpai's stores?"
Eda frowned, turning to Shinomiya just as he lit the stove and poured a generous serving of wine into his stew.
"...the provolone cheese?"
"Yes," Shinomiya said, moving to the next stove and dumping some wine in there for reduction, "go get it while I make a vinaigrette for your dish."
"You're doing what to my dish?"
"Shut up and get it. I'm trying to do something about your sourness landmine!"
"My sour cream is fine!!"
Well, that peace didn't last long.
-
They served up their first dish right before the time limit bell.
The sourdough bread was sliced and carefully edged against the dish of mashed potatoes and red wine salsa. It's a strange combination, especially with the absence of gravy on the mash, but it works.
The potatoes stacked in with the delicate tinge of sour cream and chives made the lightly toasted crust of the dough so much more enticing. The savoury and sweet vegetable salsa sits in a triangular bowl, a burst of colour against its accompaniments.
"Well," the teacher hummed. "Very well done, despite all odds."
He slathered the mashed potatoes across the bread, and then, a generous spoonful of the enticingly cubed vegetables—
—a single bite, and the fresh, tangy burst of the sour-sweet combination danced upon his tongue. The crisp vegetable bites spilled over with more sweetness in each bite, the savoury bread soaking in and upholding all the flavours and making sure none of it is ever lost.
Then, the creamy, refreshing mashed potatoes smooth it all through with an addicting aftertaste of nuts in the milk. It meshed wonderfully as the caramelised nuts crunch in his next bite. The tart fragrance of pineapples mesh with an enhancing kick of pepper.
His appetite whet for the acidity once more, so he's compelled toward a second bite, and a third, right after.
He's never honestly enjoyed sourness until now.
"Well," the teacher chuckled, bashful, "what can I say?"
He's left the teacher speechless.
The scores tally quickly. On Taste, Presentation, Innovation, Execution— he makes a resoundingly high score total of 43/50.
The Eda's fist pumped victoriously against the air as he celebrated with a sharply whispered, "Yes!"
And then, bowing happily, he excused himself.
"I'll have to help my partner, sir," it was like the joy finally curled back into his entire being, "if you'll excuse me!"
The teacher couldn't help but sigh fondly once more.
"Crazy kid," he said, endeared. "This is a team battle, but with the separate scores making it clear it's an individual assessment, none of the other first years have even thought to help their partners in the middle of the test. And yet, these two do it all like it's obvious... they're going to absolutely drive the high school teachers mad. I know it all already."
-
Honestly, Eda thought if this exam was scored like the Autumn Elections, they would be in trouble. But since this is the advancement exam, with only one judge— all they needed was a cumulative score above the 70s to get through.
"Hey, give me a bite of that."
"Eh? Oh..."
Eda held up a bite-sized piece of the bread, slathered it with the potatoes and the salsa, and slipped it into Shinomiya's mouth as he leaned over.
There's a grimace.
"You really like making my job harder, don't you?"
"Why can you never just say things are yummy when they are?"
Shinomiya's still focused on finishing up the stew, completely ignoring the question. "Second batch of bread's almost done, Dunceda. If you messed that one up you're dead."
"You think I'll ever mess up bread? The burns must have disintegrated your braincells too, Pinkymiya."
The mixture of pastry against savoury, vegetable accompaniments— it's the most straightforward way their specialties are mixed. Eda quite liked how poetic it was, that both their appetisers and main dish managed to encapsulate that.
-
Eda made his way to the oven while hand-mixing a new bowl of his sour cream, not before noticing someone rushing to the one next to him, and nearly reaching for the tray without a mitten.
It's only after the disaster was prevented that he remembered who the girl was— she had the station next to his.
Haruno Ayu.
"Oh– oh I'm so sorry I— thank you," she hastily slipped on the mittens and took it out so quickly, flustered, and even more flustered after realizing who she was talking to, "I– I'm really sorry... I'll be on my way."
She looked a moment from bursting to tears— but maybe that's her permanent state. There are circles under her eyes, light scars on her hands clearly from a similar incident.
There's barely thirty minutes to the time limit for second dishes. And now she's toasting a tray of peanuts? Either her time management was horrible or— wait, he saw her working absolutely fervently this entire time. What was she making?
...was she helping to make her partner's dish for him?
Her partner now sat down at their station, enjoying a soda and grinning smugly to himself, completely impervious to the fact that his partner was absolutely panicking over her own dish.
She hustled to prepare her dessert— clearly a pancake of some sort, judging by the ingredients. She must have planned this dish knowing she wouldn't have time for anything more elaborate.
(Ah, looking at how jumpy she is, she's definitely the type to get bullied. Even if it was justified for Shinomiya to yell at her before, whatever the hell this situation is, it's not okay.)
(And there's only one teacher in this classroom, so he can't possibly keep track of what everyone's doing, either... supporting your partner is allowed, after all. So if he makes the plan and does the main frying, no one would even notice. There's no way to prove she wasn't just clumsy at time management, rather than forced to a terrible schedule.)
No choice. Eda couldn't help her, either.
But he knew very well how it was to be nervous, uneasy, and caught up in a horrible time crunch— all for no fault of your own. It's an awful feeling. He wishes that feeling upon no one.
"Hey, Haruno?"
She turned around with a yelp, "yes—?"
"Want a taste?"
Haruno stared at him like he was insane. But at Eda's urging, she leaned into the spoonful of the sour cream, and squeaked.
She coughed, but was much too polite to spit it out.
"It's so–" covering her mouth as her eyes watered, "sour!"
Eda grinned proudly. "Right?"
Patting her on the back, tossing the spoon into his sink, he hustled back toward the oven that beeped for the finished bread.
"Thanks! Gotta go!"
He doesn't see, but she knows he burst into exasperated laughter, before turning back to her dish with a renewed resolve.
This is a culinary school.
Eda doesn't care that it's the most competitive school in the nation— people come here to learn and to improve. It's pointless if you don't do it with bright spirits.
It's human to want to make and eat good food, after all. It's human nature.
-
"No, no, I'm taking it. You sit the fuck down."
Eda kept an eye on the way Shinomiya was finishing up the meal. His hands trembled as he tasted the stew one last time, before reaching for the places and ladling it up.
He was sweating in a way that wasn't very good, but he was powering through the last touches as best as he could.
So, of course, Eda finished up the plating with the dollop of sour cream and generous serving of bread— and took it all away from Shinomiya's hands, to his misery.
"I can take it!"
"You're going to drop it, Miya."
"No I'm not!"
"Don't do those grabby hands at me, if I drop it it's on you!"
"Let me serve my own damn dish!"
Eda quickened his pace to the front. With a string of curses Shinomiya pursued him, and they set it down still swearing at each other, to the teacher's amusement.
The glistening, mouthwatering broth is thick with cheese and butter, gratuitous chunks of protein and potatoes melding in with the generous assortment of vegetables— a swivel of sour cream and heavy cream zigs through the surface for a pop of colour.
When the spoon breaks the coat of oil into the demi-glace, it lets out a waft of warmth and a bursting aroma of spices. A spoonful to the tongue and the sweetness of the broth mellows through with a tangy note of red wine.
It warms up the stomach from deep inside, and the refreshing blend of celery and chives keeps the flavour light. The mushroom and carrots bring forth the thick, juicy gushes of textural changes this stew needs, and the indulgent beef chuck just melts in his mouth.
"Even with the time constraints, you managed to tenderize the meat so well!"
Eda and Shinomiya high-fived at that, though it earned a cringe from the latter as they suddenly remembered the burns.
Shinomiya recovered a moment to wheeze out, "it's because the sour cream is good for being sour and nothing much else."
"Take that back!" Eda wailed, "it's the core of our dish! Our dishes are nothing without my sour cream! It's awesome!"
The teacher had to agree. By itself, it would be too sharp a taste— but melded into the savoury beef stew, it mellowed out the flavours, balancing it thoroughly and makes one crave for more.
Most of all, even though he'd eaten several dishes between this one and Eda's appetiser, his tongue couldn't help but remember that tangy taste of the sour cream in that taste test. It's just a kind of flavour that lingers and holds your flavour profile captive. It's an acquired taste that truly makes you go back to it, even hours to days after the first taste.
And he could taste it all once again now— even better, melded into such rich flavours in the beef stew. They even gave him the privilege of more of Eda's absolutely succulent sourdough.
It's definitely a level of satisfaction he can't even describe.
Eda Kiyofumi had one terrifying power— the power of inciting an intense craving, the power that makes you crave coming back for more of his unique flavours.
Shinomiya's amazing too, of course— balancing out the strong tastes and turning it into gourmet, all while making his flavours shine through it?
There's a terrifying pair of geniuses coming to Tootsuki High School Division.
-
Appetiser - 43/50
Main Dish - 47/50
Total for Eda Kiyofumi & Shinomiya Kojirou - 90%
The highest score in class.
"YES!" Eda and Shinomiya punched the air in celebration.
They had to pause when there's a light squeak behind them— Haruno had finished her dessert for her team, and she would be the last person in class to present her dish.
They quickly made way for her, though Shinomiya's face morphed into a grimace that made her cower like a kicked puppy.
Eda's eyes, however, were stuck on her dish.
Thick pancakes? They had a light brown, crispy exterior, and when the teacher cut into it, it was fluffy, like a souffle. He could see it was filled with butter, corn, crushed peanuts, and a gratuitous amount of brown sugar— folded over on a pan, like a half-moon.
Wait, he knew what that was. It's hardly gourmet— it's street food, specifically a Southeast Asian sweet dessert. He had only eaten it once in his past life when he was travelling for research. He remembered liking it, but he never got the opportunity to eat it again.
Now? Now is when he meets it again?
"Your blatant staring is freaking her out, dude," Shinomiya warned. His voice is bitter and full of annoyance. "She's a fucking squirrel. But it smells great, at least, so she can cook a decent amount."
Well, her culinary prowess aside— wait. What?
Shinomiya's jaw drops, too, when her team's scores are lodged in.
Main Dish - 39/50
Dessert - 44/50.
Total for Suzuki Yosuke & Haruno Ayu - 83%
You're kidding.
Eda couldn't believe his eyes, and when Haruno clasped her hands together gratefully, crying as she thanked the teacher— she turned around and flinched at the sight of her partner, who's glaring daggers at her.
Their main dish only got 39, but the dessert got a whopping 44. That's the only case of a main dish scoring less than its secondary counterpart in this entire hall. Needless to say, that's the highest score for a dessert or appetiser in this room.
That ditzy girl's dessert scored higher than Eda's appetiser.
What the hell?
-
"EDA!"
"SHINOMIYA!"
Eda spun around the door to hiss out the world's most desperate 'shhh!!!' and all the horrible intruders flinched back, hands to their mouths. Eda whirled around to check on the figure on the bed—
—and thankfully, Shinomiya's still asleep.
His hands bandaged, resting around his stomach over the covers— and a cold towel over his eyes.
"Sorry," Sena whispered.
"How's the idiot?" Mizuhara asked, "we heard what happened."
Eda sighed, beckoning them in. Some of the Polar Star seniors dropped in too— Nakagawa, and Shiomi, who's absolutely tearful.
"He finally took the damn pain meds and he's sleeping it off now," Eda explained, "can you believe this moron? He refused it when the nurse said it'd make him drowsy and came back to the classroom to cook instead. He oughta be forbidden from the kitchen for that stunt."
"He really should..." Sena seemed almost exasperated.
"Was anyone else hurt?" Shiomi asks, settling by the chair opposite of the bed, lifting the damp cloth on Shinomiya's eyes to check if he had a fever. "I heard quite a few people failed, but none of the ones involved in the accident."
"It was Haruno-san, right?"
Mizuhara found more chairs for them to convene here.
"You know her?"
"Yeah, we share Asian Cuisine," Mizuhara said. "Her specialty is in Southeast Asian dishes. She's a bit of a bull in the china shop when it comes to working in teams."
"So, the exact opposite of Eda-chan?" Nakagawa teased.
Sena chuckles. "Everyone admires Eda, but it looks like Haruno gets bullied instead?"
"She just doesn't get along with people as easily as Eda," Mizuhara shrugged. "I won't say it's not warranted. She's kind of a pushover."
"It's always trouble when someone doesn't pay attention in the kitchen!" Shiomi huffed. But as a fellow small-sized girl with a naturally meek demeanor and eccentric personality, Shiomi might be able to relate.
At least this incident only had one injury, and the doctors already said he'll recover well with no complications, albeit with some scars.
"Enough about that," Eda decided to change the subject, "how did you guys do? In the test, and in the Elections for you, Nakagawa-senpai?"
"Oh, we aced it!" Sena beamed.
Mizuhara held up a V sign, "top in our class, just like you. We scored two points higher than you, though."
"What? No way!" Eda whined.
"We saved the leftovers in our classroom. We can bring it to the training room later and trade notes?" Sena said. "Bet yours is still in your examination room, too."
"Oh! Uh," Eda glanced at Shinomiya, "when the guy wakes up, I guess. No sense in just me tasting them, I wouldn't be able to give proper advice."
"Don't sell yourself short," Mizuhara frowned.
Eda just chuckled nervously at that, elaborating nothing.
"And as for me..." Nakagawa grinned smugly, jabbing a thumb at himself, "you're looking at the winner of this year's Autumn Elections, folks!" and then the loser fucking dabs like some outdated Zoomer, "I'm basically guaranteed an Elite Ten seat at this point! Call me the amazing senpai I am!"
"WOOOAH???"
"YOU WONNN?!"
"AND WE DIDN'T GET TO WATCH!?"
"SHHHH!!!" Shiomi hissed, "Shinomiya's still sleeping!!!"
-
Shinomiya still staggered every step like he's drunk, but he insisted he couldn't sleep anymore— so, Eda decided to escort him to the Practice Room where Mizuhara and Sena were. The sooner they get their dinner over with, the sooner they get back to the dorms and sleep their post-exam vacation days away.
"Uhm..."
Eda jumped when the voice spoke up behind him.
He hadn't noticed Haruno Ayu there, and certainly, he had no idea how long she's been waiting there like a nervous wreck.
"What do you want?"
Shinomiya's voice groused out temperamentally, probably because he was tired and in pain— but Haruno jerked up fearfully, bowing down low.
"I'm really sorry!"
Well.
"I- I know an apology isn't enough, but... my carelessness almost cost you an expulsion. It was entirely my fault because I wasn't— wasn't paying attention, I was a mess, I'm so sorry," she pleaded, "I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but—"
Eda glanced over at Shinomiya.
He's dumbfounded.
Makes sense. Shinomiya and Eda are always horribly awkward people, so they have extreme difficulties apologizing sincerely. Haruno actually managed to do it.
Sure, it was her fault, but there was no sense in holding a grudge.
Eda jabbed Shinomiya in the gut, earning a sharp hiss.
"You bi—"
"So, Haruno-san," Eda covered Shinomiya's mouth before the profanity got too loud, "Your individual Performance score will probably get docked at the end of terms anyways, so it's a lesson learned for both sides, right? Don't take it too hard. Sleepymiya's really upset, but like, that's his permanent state."
Shinomiya screeched.
"Ah— and, Eda-kun, thanks for helping me during the test..."
"No, no, it's fine. So, like, can you help me cheer this guy up? He'll forget all about his anger once he's gotten some good food in his stomach."
She blinked, confused.
"He looks like this, but he's got a sweet tooth, you know?"
She brightened up immediately.
-
And that's how five people found themselves in the Practice room, gorging on food after their tests.
"No one comes by this room, huh?" Sena hummed through a mouthful of Eda's salsa bread. "Is it because it's out of the way?"
"It's also because Eda-kun is always here," Haruno explained, and she's really loving the buffalo wings Sena toasted up, so much her face is a mess. "No one wants to bother him, because he's really jumpy."
"It's me again?" Eda whined. Mizuhara's focaccia had a delightfully crisp yet chewy texture after she changed the composition, and the ingredients melted warmly against the sour cream on his tongue, the vegetables keeping the taste light while the tomatoes gave it a rich undertone.
"You're so weird," Mizuhara muttered, enjoying the beef stew, dipping the bread in and absolutely enjoying herself, "hey, this sourdough's good."
"Compliment the damn stew," Shinomiya snarled, but his hands haven't left the apam balik Haruno toasted up for them. "And why is this so good?"
"The amount of batter used depends on the region it comes from... local tastes, and all," Haruno explains, "this one has a thick fluffy layer of batter in it, like a thick pancake. From my hometown there's only a thin crust, but still a ton of sugar and peanuts."
"That sounds interesting! Make one!"
"Eh? Right now?"
"Oh, make me one too!" Sena calls.
"Ehhh?"
"Oh, teach me how to make it, Haruno," Eda gets up, "what other stuff can you put in there?"
"Uhh—"
The session devolved into practice. Shinomiya's not allowed to touch any cooking supplies anymore, so Mizuhara and Sena work on the sourdough while Eda oversees both sides. Shinomiya's on eating duty.
Eda ate his pancake, then Haruno's, and frowned.
"Why's yours so much better cooked than mine?"
"Eh?" Haruno was flustered, "but... I think yours had a much better flavour balance... mine's too sweet."
"I crushed the peanuts too finely. The chunks in yours are better with the corn..."
"Uhh— But yours is much more evenly cooked!" Haruno argued on, "I messed up folding mine and it's a mess!"
Eda bristled. "Oh just accept the compliment already! You got a score higher than me, and there's a reason for that, alright?"
"I could say the same to you, Eda-kun!"
"I can't believe I'm losing when it comes to dessert..."
"Listen to me, Eda-kun!"
"I've never made pasta with sourdough before," Mizuhara admitted, "but I heard it's a thing. What sauce should we use? Sweet or savoury?"
"Hmmm," Sena thought long and hard, "I'm thinking of going for a flavour like arrabiata... but it might be too strong with the sourdough.... I don't know, I don't work with sour flavours much..."
"Uhm, what about adding coconut milk?" Haruno suggested, "it could help enhance the flavours while letting the sour-spicy flavours shine."
"Oh— coconut milk is used a lot in Southeast Asian dishes, isn't it? Sounds interesting," Shinomiya said.
This guy has completely forgotten his grudge and just like Eda predicted, it's because he's stuffing his face.
"But making a pasta with that?" Mizuhara seemed reluctant, "next you're going to tell me to add ketchup. I'm going to get killed by my ancestors."
"I think coconut milk is fine," Eda came around to hand Shinomiya a tissue. "Can you eat properly? You've got sauce all over your cheek. You're not a kid."
"I'm hungry. Shuddup."
"At least that means you're recovering, but you've got the vitality of an anime character, dude."
"Hmmh?"
Mizuhara sighed in defeat. "What are we making? Farfalle? Penne?"
"What's the twisty ones called? The ones that look like a screw?" Eda asked, genuinely curious.
"That's Fusilli."
"Uhm, are there those really small, ring-shaped ones?" Haruno piped up, "they're like, thiiiiis small, kind of like cereal, and my ibu always put them in laksa, is that weird?"
"Anelli?" Mizuhara wondered.
"They're usually used in soups, so that's not very weird in consideration," Sena relented. "I mean, the fun of home-cooked food is making weird concoctions, right? Like fairy bread and all that."
"Hey, how much pasta are you guys making?" Shinomiya groaned. "Are we going to have to bring this back to the dorms?"
"They'd love it," Eda couldn't even deny that. "What's a pasta you associate with your mom's food, Dummymiya?"
He bristled at the nickname, but scowled out a reluctant answer, "gnocchi, I guess?"
Mizuhara grimaced, "you guys know that you're putting all this responsibility on me right? You want me to make all of that? And this is sourdough, so I'm not even sure if it'll turn out right."
"I'll help!" Sena pleaded, "also, can you make the shell-shaped ones? Conchiglie!"
"You're just taunting me at this point," Mizuhara snapped.
Pasta party did end up involving all the seniors of Polar Star. They got in trouble for a bit, for using so much of the classroom's supplies to keep making more food after school hours— at some point, Haruno got bullied into making asam laksa and Eda pulled out the cotton candy machine again— but then Fumio showed up, and now everyone's just having a late night party in the cooking classroom without consequences. No one defies the dorm mother.
Then someone video-called Sekimori, and he started lecturing both Haruno and Shinomiya about kitchen safety, goddammit, if he gets over there he'd write reckless on their foreheads—
Eda laughed as he settled in beside Shinomiya, who looked utterly exhausted from being coddled by all their seniors about his injuries at this point.
They've all passed their tests. Almost through their first year in Tootsuki, with so many more to come.
Eda realized that coming into this school was the best decision in his life.