A/N: Hello, my dear readers! Happy New Year! May this new year bring you joy, blessings and love! I apologise for the long break. I finally completed my master's programme and just returned from a week's holiday in Japan. It was chillingly fun, if I were to summarise the experience. However, as someone who grew up in tropical weather, I can conclude that I don't like winter as much... ( ' ﹋ ' ; ) Anyway, now that I'm still on my break before starting my job hunt, I've been catching up on the new season so that we'll find out how the Kingdom of Science continues in their journey to reviving Rikona. Stay tuned to find out more! Until then, enjoy! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
"Ryusui, finding it was necessary regardless of your yapping," remarked Senku. The blond man stared, perplexed, prompting the scientist to continue, "We need to mass-produce food that's easy to preserve and light enough to carry to the other side of Earth."
"There it is!" Kohaku announced excitedly into the telephone, pointing ahead. "A golden field of foxtail!" True to her words, amid the green there was a patch of gold, one that Ryusui's eye widened with familiarity and realisation.
"The land here is fertile enough to sustain a herd of goats," explained Senku, adorning a knowing smirk. "We were bound to find wild food sources. This bird's-eye view just made it faster."
"Wheat!" laughed the sailor with joy. "Are we making bread now?"
"Yeah," confirmed Senku, as the hot air balloon lowered, just after Ukyo and Chrome arrived at the field. "From now on, we'll grow and create food with our own hands. This is part of our preparation for our long voyage on the sea to find the source of the petrification light. We need loads of food that doesn't spoil easily."
Alas, the five of them stood in the field of gold, staring ahead at the birth of the food that modern humanisation long missed. "I want the best long-lasting food," declared Ryusui. "I want bread!"
"You're going where?" The blond boy blinked owlishly.
While kneeling on the porcelain tiled floor putting folded clothes into her black Osumashi Pooh-chan backpack, the girl nonchalantly replied, "Biei. We're going to stay over at my grandparents' place over the summer break."
"That's such a long time!" he complained, slumping on her bed covered with a dark blue duvet, where he'd sat watching her pack up. "I was already thinking of bringing you to Taketomi Island, where we ride water buffalo carts and go snorkelling. "
"Thanks, but I think I wanna try something different this time."
Ryusui let out a contemplating hum. "So? What is it that interested you more than the sea?"
"I want to learn how to make bread."
The boy was even more perplexed. "You're travelling all the way to Hokkaido to learn how to make bread? Isn't that something that you can learn from recipe books?"
"I know. But I want to learn starting from harvesting the wheat. My grandparents own a wheat field, and their cottage has a stone oven. So I asked if I could go over and learn, and they agreed. They even have an orchard and a farm, so I can learn to harvest fruits and nuts to add to the bread."
The boy finally sat up, crossing his arms as he thought of what she said. "That's nice and all. But why go through all that to learn how to make bread?"
Rikona zipped up her backpack after putting a bottle of Biore sunscreen inside. "I just think I'll be able to understand the whole process of making bread, rather than always asking our chefs to make them or buy from the bakery." She then diverted her attention to the manor garden through the window, staring at the greenery illuminated by the early summer sunlight. A subtle smile plastered on her face as she muttered, "After all, isn't it more fun to work hard on something and then enjoy it as a reward?" Then, her iridescent orbs landed on his brown ones when she felt there was enough silent communion between them. "Want to join me?"
That was all it took for the Matsumura's to have an additional guest joining them on a trip to Hokkaido; well, along with François who's obliged to follow wherever the young master goes. Shortly after landing at the New Chitose airport, a private driver took them on a 2-hour drive to Biei, where Ryusui was welcomed with the splendour of the humble cottage abode to the elderly couple, nesting in the mirth of green along with the other cottages owned by farmers and retirees from the city. It was a little odd, in the eyes of the Nanami heir, to see a pair of Matsumura elites amongst the common people, as often birds of the same feathers would flock together. But perhaps this was what the family had wanted, he thought, seeing how comfortable and free Rikona and her parents were the moment they stepped foot into the wooden house. Even Mr Matsumura's stern appearance melted when he saw his parents' home when they were mere metres away in the white Sedan. Ryusui hadn't been here for a day; yet, he felt comfortably at home in this village, away from the bustling city and the daily reminders of their wealth and privileges.
"So this is Ryu-kun," cooed the elderly lady who approached him with a warm smile. "Ri-chan always talks about the adventures you and her have gone on. Thank you for looking after and spending time with our granddaughter."
"It's nothing, Mrs Matsumura," assured the boy with a courteous bow. "I always look forward to my time with Ri."
"Well, well," drawled the elderly man, giving the boy a playful grin. "Looks like we have another charmer here. I hadn't been expecting the Nanami boy to be as attached to our Rikona as that Asagiri boy."
'Asagiri?' Ryusui glanced at the girl, alarmed. But the latter wasn't as fazed, too occupied with the afternoon tea her grandmother brought out on a tray.
"Hush, dear," she scolded playfully. "You're only making the poor boy jealous. But what can I say? Our Ri-chan has always been attractive to the boys. I can foresee her wedding getting closer than I'd anticipated."
Strangely, the ever-so-excitable and confident boy who's known to have and desire everything remained silent. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart, accompanied by the heat engulfing his ears.
"I believe that's not something you should be encouraging, Mother," grumbled the girl's father, hanging up his brown Tommy Hilfiger jacket on the garment rack near the oak door. "Remember the reason why we brought him and his butler along in the first place."
"Let Mother have her fun, darling," giggled Mrs Matsumura, whose voice then lowered as she continued. "I think it's adorable to see Ryusui trying and learning new things because of our Rikona."
"The same goes for you, love."
"What are you standing there daydreaming for?" The said boy snapped his head towards where the voice came from. Standing before him was Rikona with a raised brow. "Come on, let's try the buns Grandma made. Her milk tea is also tasty."
"O-Oh..." was all he could say, as he let her drag him to the dining area. As the two sat next to each other, they marvelled at the basket of pastries placed on the centre of the wooden table. Ryusui could feel himself salivating at the aroma of the freshly baked pastries.
"What do want to eat?" asked the girl.
"All of them!" he replied, earning a deadpanned stare from Rikona.
"I highly doubt you can finish them. Anyways, we can start with the brioche, sfogliatella, and chocolate bun."
"Whatever you're having, I want all of it!"
"What are those?" questioned Kohaku, hearing Ryusui shouting them out with glee and anticipation. "Names of your ultimate kill moves?"
"No one is making such fancy bread," deadpanned Senku. "What we need is long-lasting food. We're making hardtack."
Ryusui chuckled, "We'll make that too. I'm the greediest man alive, after all!" Senku and Kohaku could only stare, baffled, with sweat drips on their cheeks.
Day broke, and the rooster croaked; it was time to get working. The children rolled out of their beds, and put on the overalls the elderly Mrs Matsumura eagerly sewed on the previous night. With their tops underneath the overalls, completed with straw hats and boots, they were off to the wheat field with the elderly Mr Matsumura driving his white kei truck. It was an endearing sight, according to his wife, seeing the two younglings eagerly following him like chicks following a mother hen. With the tools dumped in the back, where the kids excitedly hoped in, off they went to the fields of gold hallowed in the gentle summer breeze. It was a mere ten-minute ride, and the elderly Mr Matsumura was certainly no stranger to the familiar sights of his home, but to the young Matsumura and Nanami heirs, the countryside view was a sight to behold, marvelling at the hues of green shrouding wooden or stone abodes as they pass them by with the lukewarm summer breeze brushing them. But that leisure would be shortlived, as the young ones each were given a sickle while the elderly had a scythe, and the three got to work to harvest the gold seeds.
Ryusui would've never guessed he'd find himself doing hard labour for the food he'd easily get every day just by the snap of his fingers. Should the media follow him and Rikona, they'd find it alien seeing the two young heirs under the hot summer sun chopping wheat; sweat condensed on his forehead and then trickled down to his cheek, he could even feel sweat saturating his back. He straightened himself up for a moment, wiping the perspire off his forehead with the sleeve of his white button-up shirt. He honestly couldn't tell if it was as fun as he initially thought. Nevertheless, this boy wasn't one to give up so easily; not especially when Rikona was working hard, judging by the gradually growing pile near her. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't stopped since they arrived. She's probably as sweaty as him, but the grip on the sickle hadn't faltered, nor did her swings as she slashed and cut these golden straws. It was faultless, as if she'd done it many times before. If anything, she's been more productive than him-
Wait. Now that he looked closely, she'd been sweating more than him. That's not right! He shouldn't be letting her do all the work when he's the one who eagerly joined her on this trip. How preposterous of him to let this young lady do all the hard work while he stood at the side and stared at her? Unacceptable!
"Let me help you with that, Ri!" He marched up to her and began chopping the wheat she was about to harvest, catching her by surprise at his sudden help.
"It's okay," she assured. "I can harvest this part."
The boy was obstinate, nonetheless. "No way! I'm not letting you break a sweat. Let me do it for you."
"But I'm already sweating, Ryu."
"Haha! Then you won't have to sweat even more now that I'm here! Go and rest. We'll make the flour together when we get back to the cottage."
Rikona shrugged in response. "If you insist, then... thanks? I'll wait for you and Grandpa at the truck, okay?"
The boy flashed her a knowing grin. "Alright!"
Still discombobulated, Rikona walked over to the truck, oblivious to the amused expression of the elderly Matsumura who'd been watching the exchange. But she needn't wait long, for the two gentlemen returned with a large pile of wheat tied with excess straws which was then dumped into the back of the truck. Ryusui hopped onto the back of the truck, while the elderly man returned to the driver's seat, starting the engine before rolling away from the fields of gold and back to their cosy cottage, where there awaits a thresher crafted by the head of the household himself. With the large bundle of hay lifted off of the truck, the two children got back to work; Ryusui was voluntarily in charge of threshing the harvested wheat, sliding a handful of hay into the narrow gaps of the thresher and then swiped backwards, causing the grains to fall into a winnowing basket held by Rikona. While most of the grains went into the wicker basket hiding in the kitchen pantry, a bowl full of them was soon to be found poured little by little into the granite mill. Once more, Ryusui wasn't one to let Rikona do all the hard work - much to the amusement of the elderly couple who'd been silently observing them. With him cranking the mill, the girl was left with the task of pouring the grains into the inlet. The whole process might be tedious, but these young ones knew it was worth it, seeing the grounded grains pouring through the outlet and into the large bowl underneath it, ready to be sieved to become the crucial ingredient for the food humans had been relying on since the dawn of time.
"We did it, Ryu!" cheered Rikona, eyeing the ceramic bowl full of freshly ground flour. She looked back at him, her smile widened so much she closed her eyes, an expression that one could tell was that of pure joy and satisfaction. "Now we can make our own bread!"
Perhaps all this hard work was truly worth it, he finally realised.
"No way our bread would be that fluffy," said Senku with raillery, standing in front of the stone oven with hands covered in thick mittens, gripping the wooden peel. "We're not professional bakers."
Ryusui merely scoffed, "This isn't just my greed talking. Quality is important. The bread loaded on ships during the Age of Discovery was so hard that it was only eaten as a last resort. I wouldn't consider anything like that proper food."
As Senku slid the peel into the stone oven, he let out a chuckle. "It's ready. The stone world's first batch of oven-baked bread!"
But what came out of the oven was a lump of bread as black as tar with small shrouds of flames, as if they'd fished out a lump of volcanic rocks. Those from modern humanisation could only stare with eyes and nostrils widened as the burnt sight and smell overwhelmed them; all three too aghast to even comment on the Stone World people enjoying their very first taste of "bread".
"It tastes like potatoes!" said Kohaku as she took continuous bites of the crumbly black bread, with Chrome beside her happily munching away. "This crunchy texture is to die for."
"It's all black, but the aroma is incredible!" said Turquoise with delight, ignoring the smears of crumbs on the corner of her mouth.
But Senku wasn't as excited as them. He hesitantly brought a piece of burnt bread to his mouth and clamped his jaw, producing a loud crunching sound. Instantly, he was found on the ground with Ryusui not far away, both lifeless.
"The palate of modern humans is too delicate," said Ukyo, staring at the small black lump in his palm with horror. "I heard stories about people starving to death because they couldn't stomach unsavoury food. I learned that from my JSDP survival training."
Meanwhile, somewhere on the other side where the Kingdom of Science had started growing wheat, Taiju laughed jovially, taking a short break from farming. "I bet Senku and others have tried already and are eating soft, delicious bread to their hearts' content!"
"I wish I was there," grumbled Yo with envy.
It's a shame that neither could see the shroud of dread looming the sailor and scientist as they stood before the stone oven.
"This bread could be the end of us all, don't you think?" sibilated Ryusui.
"Indeed," followed Senku. "Our great voyage of discovery across the globe will fail unless we..."
"REVIVE PROFESSIONAL CHEFS!" they both yelled.
"You guys were in sync just now," deadpanned Ukyo, his head tilted to the side and a sweat drop on his cheek.
"I WANT IT!" shrieked Ryusui, desperate. "I WANT A PROFESSIONAL CHEF!"
"Senku's bread is delicious enough," said Chrome, before taking another bite of the black lump of bread.
"It tastes like a rock, but I can chew it without problems," chimed Kohaku who began munching away, oblivious to Ukyo's disheartened expression as he shook his head.
"You guys are missing out big time," declared Ryusui, pointing at them. "Real bread will blow your mind! That's why I want to revive a professional chef!"
"But we don't have any revival fluid left," said Senku as he walked out of the lab. "We can get it by refining poop but it will take months."
"No! I want it now!"
"Are you even listening?" muttered Chrome, deadpanned.
But Ryusui wasn't discouraged. Snapping his fingers, he said, "Fear not! I'll get enough fluid to revive one person."
"And how are you going to get it, you fool?" challenged Senku, unimpressed. "We don't have any nitric acid."
"Hmph!" A mad, widening grin plastered on the sailor's face. "About that... I might know some baddy who secretly stashed some of it."
"That face!" exclaimed Chrome uneasily. "You sure you're not the baddy in question?!"
If there's anything that the young Nanami heir could do right now, he definitely would just to wipe off that disappointment on the girl's face, as she stared despondently at her slightly charred pastry recently fished out of the stone oven. It's not that bad, in all honesty; the bread was still edible, on top of some slightly bitter, smokey taste in their mouths. But the boy knew that she was a perfectionist, much like her father.
"It's okay, Ri," he attempted to comfort her. "It's our first try. I'm sure we'll get it the next time!"
"You're right," she sighed, the pout still etched on her face. "But I thought it'll be nice to give Grandma and Grandpa our first bread, as a thank-you for letting us stay for the holidays."
Ryusui very much preferred to see her smile, and he'd do anything for that.
"If you wish, Master Rikona," came a familiar voice. "I can guide you in making bread for your family."
"François!" called Ryusui with relief. "You came just at the right time!"
Rikona looked up, seeing the said butler's sharp blue eyes staring back into hers. Since the day she met the young Nanami heir, Rikona noticed that the butler always had their hair arranged in neat corkscrew curls and never once had she seen the butler change anything out of their butler uniform - a dark blue tailcoat suit with flared pants, the cuffs and sash bore matching red, white and light blue stripes, orange ascot matching the epaulettes with white tassels, finally completed with light coloured, heeled platform boots. But, this time, perhaps François wanted to demonstrate to her and Ryusui, given their white baker's uniform with a light-coloured apron on the front and their hair covered with a white bandana.
"May I have a look at your bread, Master Rikona?" they enquired kindly.
"If you don't mind," was the girl's meek reply, as she shyly stepped down from the stool.
Thinking back, François found the young mistress's attempt much more appetising and appealing than whatever Ryusui was presenting here.
Appalled, the butler held a handkerchief over their nose, "Considering the worst-case scenario is part of my job," they sibilated, feeling nauseous just by the sight and smell of this "creation". "But with all due respect, did you serve this industrial waste to the guests?"
"Haha! Correct!" was Ryusui's reply.
"It tasted really good," cooed Kohaku, who's drooling at the sight of the "bread" with Chrome bearing a similar expression; a complete contrast to Senku and Ukyo's expressions of uneasiness and disbelief.
While tying the back of the apron, François enquired, "May I ask the requirements for this bread and the guests' wishes?"
"We need food that lasts a lengthy voyage," replied Senku as he approached them. "The bread has to have a long shelf life, be filling, and edible at the minimum."
"No, I inquired how many months it needs to last. Please give me as precise a number as possible." Finally, another competent member joined them, judging by Senku's grin and Ukyo's surprise.
"Based on my experience, the crew can't take a voyage that's over a year long," calculated Ryusui, placing a finger on his chin. "So, no longer than ten months. That's how long it needs to last."
With a hand over the front, François bowed slightly and responded, "Ten months. Understood. Then the menu item I'll prepare will be..."
"Goat's gift stollen?" Rikona blinked owlishly at the foreign name.
"It's a sweet bread often stored for Christmas," explained the butler.
"Ah, it's stollen, then! But why the "goat's gift"?"
"We shall be using goat butter instead of regular butter, and this makes the bread sweeter and tangier. Master Matsumura had been storing an abundance of goat butter and requested to be used as much as we'd like. Additionally, there has been some leftover dried fruits soaked in rum stored in the pantry. If you'd like, we can learn how to make bread using the ingredients we already have, on top of the fresh batch of flour you and Master Ryusui just made."
Rikona's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Yes, please! Let's begin!"
With a bow, François said, "Very well, Master Rikona."
The work table is now occupied with a large glass bowl of flour, along with smaller bowls of dried fruits, a tray of goat butter, one lemon, a large tray of eggs, a roll of marzipan, cups of milk and yeast, as well as jars of salt, sugar, and miscellaneous spices. It was now time to commence the masterclass. "First, mix the milk and instant yeast," instructed the butler, with the girl and Ryusui attentively following each step as François watched them add them to a clean glass bowl. "Leave it at room temperature for ten minutes, and then we'll return to make the dough."
Time passed so slowly; at least to the young ones who'd been watching the mixture bubble. Then only they could continue with the mini-lesson. "Add sugar, a teaspoon of salt, a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, and half a teaspoon of ground cardamom into the flour. Mix them well, and then add the milk and yeast mixture. Now, add two teaspoons of vanilla extract, goat butter, some lemon zest, and one large egg with two egg yolks. I have used the egg whites for the marzipan which we shall add to our dough later. Now, let's knead the dough at medium speed."
With the dough hooks attached, Ryusui lowered the kneading machine and switched it on. As he waited for the mixture to form a ball, Rikona oiled another glass bowl, where the boy transferred the dough. François returned with a muslin cloth and covered the bowl, explaining, "We shall let it rest for an hour and then return to knead the dough, which we'll then roll into a ball to release the gas inside."
An hour had passed; it was time to roll the dough for the second time. Albeit the lack of a kneader, it wasn't a problem for François. As a butler, one must be vigilant in adapting to one's surroundings; in this Stone Age, one shall not be so easily defeated by the lack of convenience.
However, the master would think otherwise, as evident by how he was rubbing the dough. "Speed matters more than strength," he muttered, ignoring the stark difference in his work compared to that of his butler.
"Knead by gently rubbing," mumbled Senku concentratedly.
"Excuse me!"
WHAK! WHAK!
The two suddenly jumped back, shocked by the cane François took out of nowhere and hit the bread closest to them - the one made by the sailor himself. "Master Ryusui, Master Senku," they began reprimandingly. "The nuts are coming out of the dough. Those parts will get burned."
"Yes, sir!" the two responded, eerily in sync.
Senku then (reluctantly) stuffed the nuts and fruits back into the bread and (failingly) attempted to knead the bread harder. But one should know what to expect when associating the scientist with anything involving hard work - a thwarted bread needed to be saved by the butler. The scientist was so caught up in not wanting to have his bread getting hit by the cane, that he didn't notice that yearning look on the sailor, gazing at his own bread. A sappy smile hiding his sadness evoked from something as trivial as breadmaking, and whether by intention or not in their selection, François knew how many memories the master had with this bread in particular.
Rikona learned that breadmaking might not have been as complicated as it seemed; rather, it's a matter of testing one's patience. After an hour of waiting and kneading and repeating, then only the bread was ready to be baked; that, too, required waiting as her patience was truly tested by the aroma wafting throughout the kitchen. But she knew it was all worth it, for she finally got to see the fruitful result of her and Ryu's hard work. There in all its glory was an appealing loaf of stollen decorated with icy white powdered sugar, like snow-covered logs on a winter morning. François made the first two slices - one each for the young masters - and Rikona marvelled at the sparks of colours in each slice served on the porcelain bread plate with spring floral patterns imprinted around its edge. With the stainless steel pastry fork placed on the plate, resting right next to the scrumptious-looking bread, Rikona was finally able to have a taste of the first bread she and Ryu made.
"Thank you, François," she said, eagerly receiving the plate of bread from the butler. Despite her patience running low, she ought to remember to thank the person who helped them. The plate now rested on her left palm, while her right held the fork, scooping the first piece into her mouth. Her blue eyes widened, cheeks now bore a shade of pink, as her palate experienced a burst of flavours that she hadn't tasted before. "This is...!"
Ryusui let out his signature humorous laugh before he continued, "Tasty! Not bad, eh? Our first bread! Well, it's not really the first, but technically it is. So, what do you think, Ri? Did you manage to do what you wanted to do?"Swallowing, the girl turned to look at him and smiled brightly; a smile that Ryusui thought was one of those rare ones that could tell how she truly felt.
"Yes!" she chirped. "And I couldn't have done it without you and François. Let's make more bread- No, let's make more things together, Ryu!"
The sailor gazed at the plate of slices of goat's gift stollen, too deep in his thoughts to even hear Chrome screaming how wonderfully delicious this thing called "bread" was; nor did he take note of Ukyo shedding tears of joy for finally modern food in aeons. Nonetheless, a forlorn smile was plastered on his face, an expression François could decipher what his master felt, despite being de-petrified mere days ago.
"Fret not, Master Ryusui," they assured. "We shall conquer the new world. Now that not only do we have food security, but also Ishigami Senku. And soon, we will revive Master Rikona."
The said man briefly chuckled, "I know. Don't forget, I'm the greediest man alive."