(Name)'s POV
"Toilet!"
I hurtled past Yuki and Shoji in my haste, eliciting cries of confusion from the pair. They hollered after me, asking what was the rush, but I was unable to respond.
Once I reached the confines of the bathroom, I slammed open the lid of the toilet and leaned over it, clutching my stomach in pain. Nothing came.
"(Name)-chan, what's the big idea?" Yuki called as she entered the bathroom. "Why is the door op--OI!!"
I vomited.
As Yuki shouted in the entrance, I got out as much as I could before wiping my mouth. Thank goodness I tied my hair back last night. The well-meaning girl hovered around me in concern, firing question after question, but the pounding of my head wished for her to shut up.
Wow. I was kind of mean when sick.
"Yuki... please..." I turned to face her but stopped as that familiar feeling returned in my gut.
"Huh? Huh!" Yuki exclaimed as I whipped around to throw up once more.
...I guess that potato salad was bad.
*~*~*~*
"I'd say you deserve this for throwing that cicada at me," Ryou commented seeing how I leaned against the wall, only semi-conscious, "but this is just sad."
My sickness caused quite a hiccup early that morning as Polar Star prepared to leave for the next round of the Elections. Kiyoko and Megumi were insistent that I stayed at the dorm to rest, but I was adamant to go. Or at least try to.
"Give it up already. There's no stopping her once she's put her mind to something." Ryou said to an annoyed Yuki, causing her to place both hands on her hips and gripe at him.
I watched in silent amusement; those two were always butting heads from day one. I didn't know if Yuki was aware of Ryou's crush on Megumi, but if she did find out, it would mean bad news for the boy.
"How about you lay down for another fifteen minutes before we leave? If you're still feeling up to it then, you can go." Kiyoko reasoned. I nodded and trudged back to my room.
I really wanted to go today. I'd learned so much from watching the past matches, and I couldn't afford to miss the rest. I was finally starting to realize where I stood amongst the first years of Tōtsuki and just how much work I needed to put in if I ever planned on catching up, much less surpassing them.
Even more... I thought as I unlocked my phone, there are people I've gotta support.
8:01
Best of luck on your match today, Takumi-kun! I'm sure you'll do great. o(≧▽≦)o
I shut off the phone and placed it down, only for it to light up as a response came not a minute later.
8:01
Thank you, (Name)-chan. I've prepared a lot for todau.
I mean today.
I giggled at his small typo and then his correction of it. I understood him the first time.
8:02
I'm excited to see you cook. I'll be up in the stands cheering you on! (*￣▽￣)b
That was it. I was going today.
I grabbed a small bag from under my bed and began to pack it: towels, spare clothes, water bottles, barf bags, and anything else I might need. Once I was finished, I headed to the entrance hall where everyone gathered.
Ryoko was the first to notice me. "(Name)-chan! Are you coming with us?"
Kiyoko was at my side in an instant. "I was just about to come and get you. Are you feeling any better? There's no shame in taking the day to rest."
I silenced her with a pat on her shoulder. "I'll be fine, Kiyo-chan. Let's get this show on the road."
"Wait, where's Yukihira?" Yuki asked as Megumi descended the stairs.
"I tried but he wouldn't wake up!" she explained. We considered the all-nighters he's been pulling all week and decided to let him sleep a little longer.
With a few more worried glances my way, we proceeded to make the long walk towards the cooking hall. After half a year you'd think I'd be used to the long trek, but it felt twice as long with my stomach in disarray.
Once we finally arrived and seated ourselves in the stands, I watched as the two contestants for the battle were introduced. I recognized them easily.
Hisako Arato, Erina's assistant. One of the first students I ever met at Tōtsuki.
And Hayama Akira. I recalled the curry he made for me, Megumi, and Soma before the Elections, as well as the enchanting scent of his curry from the prelims. Cinnamon stick sniffer.
What's the theme again? Burgers?
I did my best to take notes on what I observed, but it was difficult in my current state. Kiyoko, who sat to my right, kindly offered to let me rest my head in her lap but I denied her request. I wouldn't be able to see if I did lay down.
"Hayama made a d*mn doner kebab!" Nikumi exclaimed as we all directed our eyes to the large slab of rotating meat.
"Turkish food?" Daigo said as I wrote down the details of the roast.
Behind me sat Marui, who was quick to explain. "Indeed: doner means 'rotate' and kebab means 'roast.' Heat is slowly applied as the meat turns, the flavor of the fat blending with that of the spices as it cooks."
That smells really good... I savored the aroma before my stomach flipped again. Oh settle down, stomach.
On the other end Hisako placed a covered steel bucket on the counter, nothing too exciting. Until it began to shake. We all stiffened in alarm. What was inside of it?
"That's..." Yuki exclaimed as the secretary revealed its contents. "It's softshell tortoise!"
"It's kinda cute." I giggled. Hisako flipped the turtle onto its back. "Wait a second."
'Chop!'
"Aaaaah!!" I cried in horror as Hisako calmly beheaded the reptile.
"Why're you screaming?" Ryou grumbled. "You literally snapped a chicken's neck before."
"That's different."
"How??"
I belched as the secretary drained the turtle's blood into a bowl. My stomach was not ready for this today.
"She poured something into the blood she drained. Is that saké?" Ryoko pointed out.
"So the blood won't congeal, right?" Yuki deduced, and by some miracle I managed to write the fact down if only to distract myself. "I bet she's going to use it in her patty!"
"Are you alright?" Shun whispered from over my shoulder. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes on the stage.
"Yeah. I'm good." I glanced back in time to see Hisako cut and remove the top of the shell. The turtle's innards were now on full display. ...Maybe not.
"Bleghh!" I puked into one of my bags, instinctively turning my body away from everyone. Ryou recoiled, but Kiyoko leaned over and rubbed my back soothingly. Thank goodness I was in the aisle seat.
Shoji wailed with disgust as Daigo cried out, "Those tortoise guts are gross!" At least I wasn't the only one upset.
Once I'd finally calmed down, I took a moment to catch my breath. Maybe I should've looked away.
Alright, I'm okay. I'm okay...
My gut coiled.
"Not okay!" I shot up and ran to the bathroom.
*~*~*~*
Kiyoko showed up moments later to help hold my hair back as I puked. She stood there patiently all the while, rubbing my back and whispering comforting words, but my mind remained on the match. I was missing it!
"Go back, Kiyo-chan." I mumbled. "I'll just be a moment. Don't miss out on the match."
"(Name)-chan, you're sick. Don't you want to go home?" She huffed in that same motherly tone she uses on Ryou.
"No! I need to watch this match. I don't have time." I wiped away at my mouth and adjusted my clothes. "I'm good now. Let's go."
"(Name)." The firmness in Kiyoko's tone stopped me. "Talk to me."
I realized she wasn't going to let me go and sighed. "Have I improved, Kiyoko-chan? Scratch that, of course I have. But is it enough?"
Kiyoko crossed her arms. "What do you mean?"
"These chefs are all so.. incredible. In my current state, I don't stand a chance against them." I paused to burp. "Excuse me. I want to get better is all. And to push my limits."
I noticed Kiyoko step forward at this last phrase and laughed. "Don't worry, I'm well aware of my limits. And I'm not going to make myself sick trying." I held up a hand before she could mention my vomiting. "This... is from potato salad."
The brunette smiled after a moment's thought. "Alright. I trust you, (Name)-chan." I was glad she understood. "Are you ready to go back?"
"...Let me vomit one more time."
*~*~*~*
I may have vomited more than once. Kiyoko eventually left at my insistence and I returned alone. Upon entering the venue, I was immediately greeted by a mouthwatering aroma. It wasn't hard to place who was responsible.
"The aroma of Hayama Akira's hamburger is spreading through the venue. We can't wait to meet this meat!" Urara's voice proclaimed.
Was that a pun? I'm impressed, Urarattata.
I looked at the display of Hayama's burger on the big screen. It was beautiful.
Hayama had proved skilled at Middle Eastern food in particular. He used pita bread for the bun? It's like he made a burger based on a gyro.
The judges scarfed down their burgers in record time, only stopping once they realized they'd eaten it all. Hayama then pulled out a jar and showed it to his opponent. Right. It seems I'd missed Hisako's burger, unfortunately. Inside the jar were the 'pickles' of his dish: onions pickled in mustard oil.
So the acidity of the pickles acts to elevate the umami. But it was so much more complex than that. Mango amachur, lemons, garlic, chili peppers, cloves... the list goes on!
Hayama was truly a master of spice; I was an amachur in comparison. I giggled and added to my growing list of notes.
In no time at all, our director was shirtless and declared before a large script, "In this third battle, the winner is Hayama Akira!"
Naturally the crowd began to cheer, and I too began to clap. Hayama did well, better than well. He deserved the praise.
When I returned to my seat, I greeted my friends and sat down. I felt Shun lean forward in his seat to talk to me. "Have you had water today?"
I pivoted my head so I could see him. "Um, a little. Not much really."
"It's important that you stay hydrated when you have food poisoning." He reached down and retrieved a bottle from my bag, opening it before handing it to me. "Vomiting will take up all your fluids."
I obediently sipped my water. It didn't do much for my stomach, but it helped the dry feeling in my mouth. "Thanks, Ibusaki-kun. It's a good thing you reminded me."
Urara's voice over the speaker grabbed our attention. "I have... I have an announcement for everyone in the audience. The next bout between Mimasaka Subaru and Aldini Takumi... will be held as a Shokugeki!"
"A what?" I sat up straight at this piece of news. "Takumi-kun..." I shifted in my seat to look at Isami, but he seemed as surprised as I was.
What is he doing?
"Ah! Yukihira! Megumi! Jeez, where have you been?" Yuki called out as the two appeared in the aisle. Megumi explained that they had been with Mimasaka and Takumi but were unaware of the Shokugeki.
"Mimasaka planned on a Shokugeki right from the start. That's the kind of guy he is." Shun analyzed, always well-informed about his surroundings. "When he sets an eye on a student, he'll investigate him thoroughly, provoke and threaten him... do whatever it takes to get him on the battlefield. And he's already won ninety-nine Shokugekis."
"Ninety-nine?" Soma repeated.
That's a whole heckin' lot.
The director's voice grabbed our attention. "The theme is dessert! Let the cooking... begin!"
Good luck, Takumi... My stomach grumbled, though this time from nervousness. I was confident in his abilities of course, but I had no idea what this Mimasaka was like either.
We gasped as we realized their ingredients were exactly the same. "Are they going to cook the same thing?"
But can he really imitate Takumi's cooking at the same level? Rather, can he surpass him at his own speciality?
"Mimasaka is using the Shokugeki system as his personal plaything. He forces his opponents to bet their utensils. He tramples their pride as a chef by taking the tool most important to them." Shun further explained. We all grumbled at this; what did he gain from that? Sick pleasure? "They say that in one Shokugeki he took his opponent's prized knife, a memento of her mother, while laughing wildly."
I wrung my hands at this fact. While I didn't have a specific knife or cooking tool that I held dear, I'd hate to think what it felt like to lose such a precious item. My hand brushed over my wristwatch from Hibiki, and I recalled my acorn necklace from months ago.
Urgh... I glared at Ryou at the memory, and I saw him stiffen and look around as if sensing my stare. Whatever. It's in the past.
Wait, then is Takumi betting—
"--his mezzaluna!" Megumi confirmed my worries.
I turned again to gauge Isami's reaction to this. The younger twin locked eyes with me, only to furrow his brows and look away. Clearly he was the most distressed out of our group.
We weighed the two's chances against one another: Takumi was composed and in control over his dessert, a delicate cake that required strict measurements. But what surprised us was Mimasaka's gentle demeanor. It was as if he were mimicking Takumi's movements exactly!
Then Mimasaka began to divert from Takumi's recipe.
"Wait a second," I leaned forward. "Look at their eggs."
Megumi gasped as she realized what I meant. "Takumi-kun is whipping the whites and yolks together, but Mimasaka-kun is making his cake by whipping them in separate bowls!"
"Whipping them together will result in a genoise, which has a refined but dense texture. Conversely, whipping them separately will make a biscuit, which expands due to the amount of air it contains. It absorbs syrup well and has a velvety texture."
"Then that'll make his dish more flavorful than Takumi-kun's gentle one." I mumbled to myself. "What other improvisations has this guy come up with?"
My question was answered once Mimasaka began the syrup. Marui was swift to narrate the process. "That's an Italian liqueur made using lemons. Normally, rum or amaretto is used for a coating syrup. For him to use something like this..."
Isami spoke up for the first time since the battle started. "He knows about limoncello panna cotta!"
He'd taken even the most minute details from Takumi's previous dishes and turned his tricks against him. As Mimasaka explained his detailed analysis of Takumi's character, we all grew more creeped out.
Shun, Marui, and Yuki all cried out or grumbled as his stalkerish behavior came into light.
"This guy's even weirder than I imagined!" Yuki shrieked.
"Surely Takumi-kun has something else up his sleeve. Or maybe he can improvise?" I sweated alongside everyone else.
"But how could he possibly have time?" Shoji wondered.
"At this rate, is he just gonna lose?" Daigo worried.
Isami did his best to maintain faith in his twin. "My brother has what it takes to handle himself on the spot. There's no way an Italian man could lose at dolce!"
Takumi stood frozen on the stage, no doubt racking his brain for any possible ideas. C'mon, Takumi... I bit my lip as my stomach bubbled incessantly. But I couldn't leave now!
He proceeded to put his cake in the oven, leaving only his toppings or the sauce to be modified. Not to mention his ingredients were limited.
Soma stood silently all the while as we panicked over the Italian's options. His silence could be viewed as indifference, but I knew he was just as enraptured as the rest of us.
When the time came for them to remove their cakes from the oven, the difference was instantly clear; Mimasaka's cake was darker.
"He used almond powder instead... that makes the cake richer than Aldini's." Ryou rubbed his chin. He didn't notice our surprised stares as he was too focused on the Shokugeki.
Takumi had hit a wall. He stood there, hands placed upon the countertop, and stared at the few ingredients he had. That could only mean Mimasaka had gotten into his head.
It was only when he looked up and saw Isami's worried state that he managed to pull himself together again. He took a deep breath and returned to work.
"Stay strong, Takumi-kun." I clasped my hands together and whispered.
Mimasaka was the first to complete his dish, and the judges loved it. Each improvisation bolstered the dessert enough to leave the judges singing. When Takumi's turn to serve came, I found myself holding my breath.
Isami was the first to notice something different. "That dish... It's different from the semifreddo he was working on."
We inspected the fourth, wafer-thin layer added to the dish. Was it enough to pull a win? The judges tasted the dessert and identified the layer.
Lemon curd, huh?
Takumi explained the ingredients of the curd, but instead of butter he used...
Olive oil!
"What's more, that's no ordinary olive oil." Isami said; it was the Aldini family olive oil!
Takumi's Italian way of thinking seemed to impress the judges. The director's next words drew sounds of awe from the stadium. "In other words, this should be called 'Lemon curd Italiano,' an all-new condiment!"
"Even under the gun like that, he invented a new flavor!" Megumi exclaimed.
That's... amazing! You're amazing, Takumi!
But Mimasaka's sudden maniacal laughter shocked us all. He'd added a secret ingredient: preserved lemons. He'd added it to all aspects of the dessert as a secret twist. But what was even more terrifying was that he anticipated Takumi's alteration.
"He knew he'd make lemon curd?!" I accidentally crushed the empty water bottle in my hand. Oops, I must've finished it all.
The judges lifted their brushes. They wrote down the victor's name.
"It's unanimous!" The emcee declared. "The winner of the fourth bout is Mimasaka Subaru!"
My stomach churned angrily. I felt sick, sicker than before, as I watched Mimasaka walk off with Takumi's mezzaluna, the prize of his one hundredth win.
The details of the next week were then announced, as well as the pairings and further information. But all I could focus on was the defeated boy on the stage.
Takumi...
My stomach rumbled again.
Uh oh.
"Gotta go!"
*~*~*~*
Going the entire match without taking a break was a bad idea. There was nothing left for me to expel at this point, my stomach empty after skipping lunch, and I wished I'd packed food in my bag.
How could I forget food of all things? I'm a mess today.
When I exited the restroom, the girls were waiting for me. We exited the stadium and met up with the rest of our group where we reflected on the match solemnly.
"I totally can't accept this! What's with that stalker?!" Yuki raged, holding Shun up by the collar.
"I understand, but don't take it out on me." He replied as calmly as one being strangled could, the rest of the guys concerned but too afraid to stop her. I poked her in the gut, firm enough to cause her to drop the boy in a pile.
"Ack!" She winced and cradled her side. Shun nodded at me gratefully to which I responded with a thumbs up.
"Takumi-kun must be pretty shocked." Ryoko whispered to Nikumi.
"I'd like to try to make him feel better, but I don't know what to say." The blonde replied.
I could relate. I also didn't know what to say to him.
It would make sense that he wanted to be alone right now, but from my experience being alone after a loss only makes it all the worse. Takumi doesn't need any kind words or pity right now; he needs a friend.
"Where are you going, (Name)-chan?" Kiyoko asked.
"Go on ahead without me! There's something I gotta do first." I waved and ran off to search.
She was about to run after me when Ryou stopped her, shaking his head. "Let her go. She's... probably going to the bathroom or something."
*~*~*~*
I found the twins near the west exit, a decent ways off from the crowd. Most of the students had cleared and gone home already.
"H-hey!" I called then stopped to catch my breath.
Why did I run? Running was a bad idea.
"Homura-chan?" Isami noticed my hunched over figure and frowned. He'd seen me puking earlier, no doubt. "Are you okay?"
Not really, no. But that was my problem. Takumi had bigger fish to fry as of right now.
"I'm fit as a griddle, thanks for asking." I gave a thumbs up and turned to Takumi.
"But that Shokugeki today, it felt—it felt dirty. It was like a sneak attack from the shadows." I ran a hand through my hair as I thought of Mimasaka's twisted strategy. "The way he copies his opponent... it doesn't feel right. To have you lay down all the framework only to build upon what's already there?"
I mussed up my hair in my ire. "More importantly... are you okay, Takumi-kun?"
Takumi, who'd remained silently stewing in his defeat, hardly bothered to look at me. "...I will be. Sorry Homura, but I think I want to be alone right now." His response felt cold, and even Isami shot his brother a baffled look.
I was undeterred. "Of course, I understand if you want space. But know that you have friends in your corner: all of us at Polar Star. You don't have to be alone during this."
Takumi finally looked up, the shadows no longer casting over his face. "Really? Yukihira has to face him next, and he hasn't even spoken to me."
I rubbed the back of my neck as I considered this truth. Soma is someone who marches to his own beat, but he's not insensitive.
I breathed out a sigh. "Don't take it the wrong way. Something tells me that Soma is..." I felt my blood run cold. They'd gone back to the dorm, right? "Soma is..."
Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling?
I spun around to puke in a nearby trashcan.
"(N-Name)-chan?!" Takumi panicked, forgetting his frustrations for the moment as I retched ungracefully. "Yukihira is... sick? He makes you sick?!"
I lifted my head out of the trash (that smelled oddly of... nachos?) and looked at him. "He's your friend just as much as he's your rival."
Takumi blinked at what I thought was an obvious fact before biting his lip, fists clenched at his side. "Yukihira..."
I didn't know if I managed to make him feel any better, but at least I could say I tried. I straightened and wiped my mouth.
"I gotta go, Takumi-kun. But know you did great today. I'm sure this isn't the last we'll see of you." With a wave, I turned to leave.
I gotta get back to the dorm.
*~*~*~*
"Brother?" Isami asked, the older twin's expression unreadable with his head bowed.
"She's right. Today was just one loss." Takumi breathed. He looked up and raised his fist to the sky. "I'll be back to fight another day!"
Isami puffed out his chest a little at the display—there was the brother he knew. Whatever that girl said to him must've lifted his spirits.
'Thump.'
They turned to see said girl unconscious in the dirt.
"She collapsed!"
*~*~*~*
Ugh, my head hurts. I shifted so I was laying on my back. Wait, why am I laying down?
I opened my eyes to see ceiling. Ceiling?
See-ling. Haha.
I realized I was in a car, but whose car was the question. Hmm. Did I pass out?
And now I'm in a stranger's car? Hmmm...
Danger.
"Ahh!" I shot up and retreated into the furthest corner.
"Wah!" The other two figures cowered towards the opposite end, sitting in the seats across from me.
Adrenaline pumping through my body after my delayed reaction, it took me a moment to recognize the Italians. "...Oh. Hey guys."
Takumi and Isami, through the kindness of their hearts, must've decided to transport my unconscious body back to the dorm. How sweet.
They relaxed and spread out again once we calmed down. They sat a notable distance from me, which was understandable given my current state.
"How do you feel? Do you need anything?" Isami fretted, handing me a water bottle from my bag. "You should hydrate."
"Why didn't you say anything if you felt bad? No one would have blamed you for going home after the first match." Takumi reasoned.
"I'm fine, had some old potato salad is all. There's no need to wo--" I covered my mouth as I belched.
The twins recoiled into the far corner again. Nothing happened.
"Excuse me. Like I said, I'm good as gravy." I shrugged. "Besides, I couldn't go home or I'd miss Takumi-kun's match! And I promised you I'd be there to support you."
Takumi crossed his arms, less than impressed. "Well, as your friend I'm more concerned about your health!" He scolded me, only to flinch when I covered my mouth again. It was nothing but a burp. "Oi, are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Hehe, you're so silly." I giggled, a little delirious at this point. "Don't worry your pretty lil' head 'bout me. Are you okay?"
Takumi raised his hands in confusion. "Why are you worrying about me? You're the one who's sick."
"We're here." Isami announced as the car came to a halt. That was quick!
"Thanks for the ride, you two! I owe you one." I waved, exiting the vehicle.
"That's alright. We couldn't just leave you passed out on the ground." Isami waved back.
"Wait, (Name)-chan!" Takumi stopped me and pulled a container out of the car. It was the bento box from before. "Here. Thank you again for the crab cakes."
"Did you like them?" I took the box from him.
And for the first time since the match, I saw Takumi smile. "Yes. They were very good."
I couldn't help but smile back. "I'm glad!"
We waved one last time, both of us thanking the other, and I promised to text him later once I was feeling better.
Man, I don't know how many more of those hour-long walks I can take from the dorm... I thought to myself as I approached the building. Maybe I should get a bike, or even a pair of skates...
When I went to open the door, however, I was greeted by none other than Mimasaka. We both stopped and stared.
My gut bubbled angrily, and I knew it wasn't from the potato salad this time. Though I wouldn't mind barfing on him right now.
"Pardon me." Mimasaka excused himself before politely holding open the door. "You first."
He's... a gentleman? I sweatdropped at his unexpected manners and shuffled past awkwardly.
"E-er, thanks..." But as I passed his calculating gaze, I felt a chill run up my spine.
I'd seen firsthand what he was capable of. Something tells me I should watch out for this guy.
He shut the door behind me and went on his way. When I entered the hall, Megumi greeted me with a look of worry.
"What's wrong, Gumi-chan?"
She glanced up the stairs and wrung her hands together. "Mimasaka-kun and—and Soma-kun, well, they--"
My hunch was right. "They did not."
Her fearful expression said otherwise.
"Yukihira Soma!" I stormed up the stairs, entering his room to find him sitting on the floor.
"Oh, hey (Name)-chan." He greeted nonchalantly. "I heard you were sick. You're not contagious, are ya'?"
He took one look at my livid demeanor and sweatdropped. "Here it comes..."
I marched up to him and held up my fingers. "I was gone for five minutes, dude."
I opened my mouth, ready to berate him for taking on yet another intrepid task. All of the tools Mimasaka took at the risk of never cooking again? Was he really willing to wager his identity as a chef?!
But the longer I stared at him, I knew he was one hundred percent serious. That intense look in his eye was one I recognized from all the other times he's challenged someone. And it was the resolve I was so desperate to find for myself.
My anger dissipated.
He tensed, as if readying himself for another one of my lectures, only to peek an eye open a second later. "What? Aren't you gonna scold me?"
I slumped down to sit across from him. "Why would I? It won't change who you are, and if challenging chefs to risky, high-stakes Shokugekis is what you wanna do then who am I to stop you?"
He blinked, clearly thrown off by my willingness to let him compete, but didn't complain. "This is new. Seems like the old you would've bitten my head off." He gave one of his signature obnoxious laughs as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"There are plenty others to do that for me. Besides, I've come to admire that tenacity of yours." I admitted, rubbing at the scorch mark on his floor. It's the fact that he's so headstrong that he's as skilled as he is.
"Eh?" He stopped laughing.
"Nevermind." I cleared my throat, grateful I haven't puked again. "Anywho, know that I'm by your side, Soma-kun. And whatever you need, I'm your girl."
He leaned back on his hand and considered my words. "Actually... I may need your help this week."
I grinned and gave a little salute. "Just say the word!"
*~*~*~*
A knock on my bedroom door stole my attention away from the tiny screen of my phone. I was just about to text Takumi, though I'd spent the past ten minutes struggling on what to say. I didn't have the best track record when it came to comforting people after their defeats, after all.
"Come in." The door opened to reveal a familiar head of blue hair, and I sat up at once, giving the girl my full attention.
"(Name)-chan? How are you feeling?" Megumi asked kindly as she moved through the kitchen-ized portion of the room into the bedroom.
"A little better. I haven't thrown up in hours, so that's good. But my stomach's still a little upset." I rubbed my tummy at the fact. "I think my body's angry I haven't eaten much today. Yet it's also mad when I try to feed it." She giggled at the personification of my digestive troubles, the sound alone making my stomach flitter more than it was.
She revealed a thermos and handed it to me. "I made you some soup to help your belly. It's the same recipe my mother used when I was a little girl. It should be gentle enough for you to stomach, but also give you energy."
"Thank you, Megumi-chan. You didn't have to." I accepted the food, touched yet unsurprised by the gesture. It was just like her to do something like this without anyone asking. I'd yet to even eat the soup, but I could feel my body grow warm and fuzzy from her presence alone. A quick unscrew of the lid unleashed a light aroma that caused my muscles to relax. It smelled so good...
Dramatic as it sounds, I nearly shed a tear after the first sip. I remembered all the times my mother waited on me as a child, nursing me back to health after I caught a mean cold from dancing in the rain. But as the girl reached up to press her hand to my forehead, brows furrowing as she regarded my temperature, then fussing over my blankets, I couldn't help but feel like a kid.
"You're so hot, (Name)-chan! Have you taken any medicine at all?" She asked, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on my desk.
"I'm flattered you think so, Gumi-chan." I winked, taking satisfaction in how she turned pink at my words and stuttered to explain herself.
"N-not like that! Your temperature is high!"
I laughed softly and continued to savor the broth. "I'm kidding, Gumi-chan. And thanks again for the soup. It's really deli--ouch!" I flinched as I forgot to blow on the soup, burning my tongue as a result.
Another giggle bubbled from her mouth at my expense. It was almost enough for me to forget the pain on my tongue. Almost. I allowed her to take the thermos and spoon from my hands and stir it.
"Don't eat too fast, (Name)-chan. Here." I watched as she blew gently on a spoonful then proceeded to hold it out to me. She was—she was spoon feeding me.
My brain short-circuited. The lone brain cell that remained ordered my mouth to open, accept the soup, close.
The flavors danced on my tongue, as if apologizing for hurting me before, a comfortable embrace that soothed my churning gut. I don't know if it was the soup itself or the girl feeding me that made the warmth bloom in my stomach. But I knew it was a good feeling.
"How's it taste?" Megumi asked after what was probably the seventh spoonful. I'd lost track at this point, but I could see I'd finished half of it. My body was already starting to thank me for it.
"It's..." I stuck out my tongue, "souper."
She lowered the spoon in surprise before another one of her endearing giggles blossomed into the air. It was a happy, unrestrained giggle in our comfortable bubble, as opposed to the ones she politely stifled when we were out and about. I loved the sound.
Her delight fueled me on. "I'm really grateful for you doing this. You didn't have to broth-er, but you still went out of your way."
"Even ill, you're always cheerful, (Name)-chan." My breath hitched as she placed a hand on my forehead and smoothed my hair away from my face. She repeated the action, stroking my head like a dog, and I tried not to melt under her touch. This was just unfair.
"I'm glad you think so." I said wryly, trying not to think of the many times I was actually quite the opposite. But with Megumi, it was hard not to feel happy.
She fed me the rest of the soup, despite the fact that it was no longer piping hot or that I was fully capable of feeding myself, and I couldn't help but laugh as she tucked me under the covers. Now I definitely felt like a kid.
"No bedtime stories? A kiss goodnight?" I teased as she closed the thermos and grabbed the rest of her things.
The girl sighed and clicked off the lights, leaving her scarcely-illuminated form in the dark. The sight of her in the moonlight, hair free from their usual braids, and nightgown flowing loosely around her gave me the vague impression that I was being visited by an angel. Or maybe I just died. Either way, she was here.
"Good night, (Name)-chan." She whispered. I repeated it back and listened to her light footsteps followed by the click of the door.
I lay there for a moment, basking in the peaceful quiet, sleep dancing on the edge of my consciousness. My stomach was finally satiated, my body and soul felt full (with soup), and there was one more thing left to do.
Like a teenager deceiving their parents, I unlocked my phone and swiped through my conversations. The light made me squint in the dark room, and I slowly typed out a message.
Thanks again for the ride today. I'm feeling much better now
I sent the message. My fingers continued to hover over the keys, deliberating over what to say. So I typed another.
When the last message sent and delivered, I clicked off my phone and placed it on my nightstand. I already knew how unskilled I was when it came to consoling people, but I was trying to get better. I simply told him what I wished I knew every time I lost before. Hopefully it'll make him feel even a little better.
*~*~*~*
Takumi stared at the ceiling of his bedroom blankly. He was a mess of emotions to say the least, and he couldn't help but replay the way Mimasaka played him like a fiddle, going in circles over and again in his palm. He felt trapped, hoodwinked even, and worst of all he felt like a disappointment.
He'd never forget the horrified look of Isami in the crowd. If there was one thing he was certain of today, it was that he'd never allow such an expression to grace his younger brother's face again.
The Italian felt like a dead man walking. He knew he wasn't the only one who felt so passionate about his defeat (he could already hear Mito's enraged shouts), but he forwent the comfort of his friends in favor of going home.
Or at least that's what he'd planned. To go home and let himself feel alone and miserable in his room like he was doing now. But a certain sprightly girl had other plans.
She was sick today. She passed out on the ground for crying out loud! Yet she still came all the way out today to support me...
Takumi's phone buzzed at the foot of his bed. He had half the mind to kick it across the room and to continue stewing in his misery, but he instead reached down to open it. The device automatically opened to display the notification.
A text message?
10:12
Thanks again for the ride today. I'm feeling much better now
10:13
I hope you're feeling better too!!
Another jab of truth pierced Takumi through his stupor. This girl, who cried over crab cakes and sent weird 'memes' at 2 AM, was his friend. And not his only one, at that. Takumi wasn't alone. It wasn't just him and Isami anymore.
So why did he feel that way?
He sighed and allowed his phone to shut off. He'd reply later, in the morning maybe. He didn't trust himself to talk right now for fear of coming off as a mess.
Takumi was only moments away from turning in when his phone chimed once more. On autodrive, he opened it.
He half-expected some picture of a cat, or another strange "absolute unit," as she calls them. He did not expect the words displayed on the screen, yet they were exactly what he needed to hear.
10:24
You're not alone, Takumi-kun.
The weight on his shoulders lessened if only a fraction at the reminder.
Yeah, Takumi managed the most minute of smiles. She's right.
He wasn't alone, he realized, an odd feeling bloomed in his gut. It was different from the dread he felt earlier today—quite the opposite in fact.
But then an image followed it.
*~*~*~*
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! More next week :D
Next update:
July 13th, 2020