notes: for day 5 of sns otp week, "firsts"! i love doujima and saiba's relationship and their little arc in the manga literally left me in tears. i'm not sure how many else in the sns fandom feel the same way, but this was so much fun for me to write and i'd like to share it anyway! apologies that azami is not present at all in this if anyone is broken up about that, i couldn't seem to find a place to fit him in. also, i was unclear if doujima and saiba first came to tootsuki in middle or high school, but for the sake of this fic it is high school. if the manga ends up screwing me over on that one [big shrug]. please enjoy!
The first time he meets Jouichirou, Gin has just passed Fumio's entrance test to the Polar Star dormitory.
After washing his hands in the kitchen sink and drying them on a towel, he slings his bag strap over his shoulder as Fumio says, "That makes you the second to pass today."
He stops. "Second?"
Fumio nods, a wry smile pulling onto her face. "Another young man just finished before you." She swings a key around her finger by its ring, then holds it out to Gin. "I'm sure you'll run into him sooner or later. For now, feel free to make yourself at home."
He takes the key from her with a polite bow before making his way upstairs to his room.
He is not a smug or boastful person—his mother has always instilled the importance of humility in him. But as a statement of fact, it's been a long time since anyone his age has properly challenged him in cooking. Whoever this first person is, Gin is interested in meeting him. For now, however, he can focus on unpacking and settling into his new home for the next few years.
Gin unlocks the door to his room on the third floor and pushes it open with his shoulder, setting his bag on the ground with a sigh.
When he turns around to close the door, there is a boy standing hardly a foot away from him.
"Holy shit—" Gin jumps back five feet.
"Hi!" says the mystery boy. His russet hair falls around his face in messy strands, and his eyes are a gleaming amber.
Gin clutches his chest, heart thumping beneath his hand. "You scared the hell out of me!"
"Sorry," he says, grinning and not looking very sorry at all. "I'm Saiba Jouichirou."
Gin takes a moment to let his heartbeat return to normal before clearing his throat and collecting himself. "I am Doujima Gin. Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Saiba's grin only grows. It feels inexplicably menacing to Gin. "You're the second person admitted today."
"Yes."
"I got here about an hour ago."
Gin feels the slightest twinge of annoyance. "Yes, Fumio-san told me one other person passed before me."
"You know what that means, right?" Saiba leans in closer with his impossibly shining eyes.
"Er…?"
"Shokugeki."
Gin's eyes widen.
"You and me, right now."
"I—Really?"
"Yeah!" Saiba bursts, all but bouncing on his feet in anticipation. "Come on!"
"But I just—"
Saiba has already begun hauling him bodily towards the kitchen.
But I just finished cooking for the entrance test. But I haven't even unpacked my clothes or house slippers. But I was planning on going for a jog.
The power of Saiba Jouichirou prevents Gin from voicing any of these excuses, and he lets himself be dragged along.
Perhaps one shokugeki will not take so long. Saiba is a strange one, that much is clear, and Gin gets the feeling that just letting him expel whatever energy he has building inside him is easier than trying to dissuade him from something he is determined to do. And apart from that, Gin cannot ignore the tiny bit of interest budding within him, wondering what kind of chef Saiba is. They are going to be dormmates for the foreseeable future, after all. It would be good for Gin to get to know him.
"Fumio-san!" Saiba calls out once they reach the kitchen. She is still elbow deep in soapy water washing the dishes from the entrance test Gin passed only moments ago. "Shokugeki!"
"Already?" she says. She looks amused rather than annoyed.
"I'm sorry for the trouble," Gin says to her.
Fumio waves one gloved, wet hand. "No, no. This is Tootsuki. Shokugeki are this school's lifeblood."
"You'll judge, won't you?" Saiba says, already rolling the sleeves of his school shirt up to his elbows and tying his hair back messily.
"Of course, just don't ruin my kitchen, you hear?"
"No promises." Saiba grins.
"So what's the theme?" Gin asks, pulling an apron over his head and tying it at the back.
"Hmm, let's see… How about breakfast?"
Gin raises an eyebrow. "But it's the middle of the day—"
"Let's do it!"
Saiba slams a pot onto the stove then dashes to the pantry for ingredients. And with that, Gin supposes, the competition is on.
Part of his mind is still catching up to the fact that this is really happening. Saiba moves about three times too fast for any normal human being to keep up with and for the first time in a long time, Gin finds himself struggling to stay apace. But instead of feeling disheartened or aggravated, he feels excitement pump through him. It pushes him to go faster, to not pull any punches despite them being relative strangers. Gin wants to make Saiba work for it.
So there is someone this good at Tootsuki, he thinks in the middle of chopping vegetables probably faster than is safe, but Saiba is going equally fast if not faster. Gin feels a smile tugging at his mouth, even as he uses more energy than he's ever used to get a dish out. A bead of sweat rolls down his neck.
This is fun.
At the end of it, Fumio silently takes a bite from each of their dishes. She hardly takes any time to judge before she points a hand to the victor.
"Jouichirou," she announces.
Saiba raises a fist into the air, grinning widely.
Gin, still panting from exertion, looks to him. He does not feel as hurt by this loss as he expected to be.
Then Saiba throws an arm across his shoulders, much too close for someone Gin had only met an hour ago. But strangely, he does not feel opposed to this either.
"That was good, Doujima!" he says. "Thanks."
"Tomorrow," Gin says.
Saiba looks surprised for once, raising his eyebrow in confusion.
"Let's cook again tomorrow," Gin elaborates. It's not like him to get riled up by competition so easily. His upbringing warned him against that, too. But something about Saiba makes Gin want to chase after him, to see what else he has in his arsenal of culinary techniques. And the look of surprise on his face when Gin said he wanted to fight him—he feels an itch at his fingertips at the idea of trying to surprise Saiba Jouichirou again.
Saiba's confusion melts away into excitement, and Gin can see fire in his eyes. "You're on."
Away from them, watching as they talk animatedly about their thought process behind their dishes, Fumio touches a finger to her chin thoughtfully.
"I have a good feeling about this year," she says to herself with a smile.
By winter semester of his first year, Gin racks up a grand total of twenty-eight losses and zero wins against Saiba, including his loss in the Autumn Election.
Their performance in that particular event has whispers erupting around campus about their possible candidacy for Elite Ten seats, but with his schoolwork and exams and responsibilities maintaining their newly acquired garden at Polar Star, Gin pays those rumors little mind. Saiba seems to pay even less mind; he's hardly interested in his classes let alone a highly administrative position like an Elite Ten, despite the status and resources it grants. But Gin doesn't know how much of a say they get in the matter anyway, and if the time comes, he's sure no normal student would ever turn down the opportunity.
Then again, Saiba is no normal student.
Elite Ten or not, students have to attend class and Gin finds himself dragging Saiba out of the Polar Star kitchen and across campus more often than not. Today is no exception.
"Come on, Gin, I was onto something new!"
"You haven't gone to class for two days. You don't want to be expelled, do you?"
Saiba pouts at that, like a brat, Gin thinks. Sighing, his grip on Saiba's arm relaxes just slightly and he says, "I'll help you with it tonight, okay? Just promise you'll go to class today."
Saiba's expression rapidly changes from petulant to eager. "Really? Yeah! And then a shokugeki after, right?"
Unsurprised, Gin says, "Of course."
Every loss against Saiba is a hard blow to his ego, but Gin doesn't feel his desire to keep challenging him lessen in the slightest. As the weeks pass by and the losses grow, Gin only feels more determined. Saiba doesn't seem to get bored, either. With every win, his reputation grows tenfold, and soon there will be almost no one at Tootsuki willing to compete against the 69th generation's proclaimed genius. Gin is no inexperienced cook himself, but sometimes he wonders why Saiba likes to challenge him so often when he is clearly the better chef. His unblemished win streak is more than enough proof.
A part of him fears voicing the question. He enjoys the challenge, enjoys trying to puzzle out what trick Saiba will pull from his sleeve, enjoys the thrill of maybe, just maybe, impressing him for once and snatching victory out of his grasp. Gin does not know if it is the Chef Doujima side of him speaking or simply Gin: the Gin that Saiba likes to tell bad jokes to, the Gin that stays up late to help him with the homework he has put off for far too long, the Gin that carries him from the kitchen where he sometimes falls asleep and takes him back up to his dorm room to rest properly.
As much as Saiba's decision to keep challenging him is perplexing, he also hopes it does not stop. And for that reason, he will keep fighting him even if it always ends in his crushing defeat.
After this particular battle where they competed on who could make the better noodle dish, Gin blows a disappointed breath as Fumio once again declares Saiba the winner.
"Another win for me," Saiba sing songs.
"Next time," Gin says, brandishing his fist in determination. "I'll get it next time."
Saiba snickers as he passes out extra bowls of his dish to fellow dorm residents. "So tomorrow again then?"
"We have a meeting in the evening with the Elite Ten tomorrow," Gin reminds him sternly.
"Oh yeah." Saiba's expression suggests he looks forward to it about as much as he would look forward to a root canal.
"Come on," Gin says, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be good news, I think."
"Right," he says, then quickly changes the subject. "Hey, after this let's go play that game I got the other day."
"Have you finished your homework first?"
Saiba flaps a hand. "It's not due tomorrow so I don't technically have to finish it today—"
"Saiba."
"Alright, we'll work on it after, okay? Just an hour of Galactic Showdown first, I promise."
Gin gives him a skeptical look, then sighs.
"Fine."
Saiba grins and leads the way out of the kitchen. But before they make it to the stairs, Fumio stops them.
"Wait a sec, Jouichirou," she says, holding out an envelope to him. "This was in the mail for you."
"Oh. Thanks, Fumio-san." He takes the letter and hurries up the stairs, Gin following behind.
When they reach Saiba's room, he flops onto the bed, letter in hand. While Gin moves to turn on the TV and set up the game console, Saiba tears open the letter with little ceremony and begins to read.
He snorts and Gin looks over at him curiously.
"What is it?" he asks.
"Nothing." Saiba tosses the letter in the general direction of the trashcan, but it doesn't quite make it and flutters to the ground by Gin's feet. He picks it up while Saiba explains, "Just a love letter."
His eyebrows fly to his hairline. "What?"
Saiba shrugs nonchalantly and moves to pick up a game controller.
Gin looks at the letter in his hands, and he can smell the faint aroma of perfume, sees the pink hearts drawn in the margins of the paper. He doesn't read any of the actual content out of respect for Saiba's privacy, but it's clear enough what it is.
"… Is this the first time you've gotten something like this?" he says.
"Nah," Saiba says, waiting for the game to load. "There've been a few before but I mostly ignore them. Some have even talked to me on campus."
Gin feels at a loss for words. "Oh."
He doesn't know why it surprises him. Saiba is one of the best known chefs on campus, and the attention he draws to himself only grows each day. People whisper about him when they walk through campus together, and as little as Gin cares about gossip, it's difficult for him to ignore the talk that surrounds his friend. It was foolish of him to forget that sometimes people's admiration can grow into another feeling entirely.
Even more confusingly, the realization makes him feel… annoyed. Holding the letter now, disquiet itches under his skin and he doesn't know why.
It forces him to look at Saiba a little differently. Not just the Saiba he is used to who dresses extremely lazily on days off, who rarely combs his hair, who enjoys using the charcoal grill a little too much and has the burning smell clinging to his clothes all day. No, he looks at Saiba and sees someone that people have a crush on, that people ask out on, apparently, a regular basis. Someone to be attracted to.
That particular thought sends a jolt through Gin, like a white hot lightning strike of realization.
"Gin?" Saiba says, waving a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Gin?"
Gin blinks and returns to the present.
"Huh?"
"Get your controller, man, we got spaceships to blow up." Saiba pushes a controller into his hands before settling himself on the ground in front of the TV.
Gin takes a seat next to him, a careful amount of space between them.
While Saiba presses through the game menu to where they left off in the campaign, Gin sneaks glances at him. Saiba's hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, strands of it slipping out of the hairband and curling around his face. His hands grip his controller, and Gin can spy the familiar nicks and cuts of a lifetime chef. His fingers are long and supple, and his wrists are surprisingly delicate. But there is strength in Saiba's wiry frame, strength Gin is familiar with from all the times they've spent in the kitchen, from each time Saiba threw his arm over his shoulders and pulled him in for a one-armed hug.
He feels himself warm up, slowly, from the core of his heart and up his neck to his face, and he thinks, Oh no.
"You ready to conquer the galaxy?" Saiba asks, turning to him.
"Ready to beat your score," Gin responds, relieved that it came out steadily despite how unsteady his whole self feels in this moment.
"No way," Saiba says with a laugh. "You remember our scores last time? I was way ahead of you."
"Only because you cheated halfway through and started elbowing me."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't, Saiba."
"Look, I'll beat you fair and square. Just watch." The level finally starts with a flash of colorful pixels. "And hey, call me Jouichirou already, will you?"
The surprise of it makes Gin accidentally careen his tiny pixel spaceship straight into a bomb, killing him immediately, and Saiba spends about five whole minutes laughing while Gin fights to get him to stop by smacking him with a pillow.
"Enough, Jouichirou," he says, an embarrassed flush to his face.
It feels strange to say, but the fact that Jouichirou gave him express permission makes Gin feel inexplicably pleased, and he suddenly finds himself wanting to say his name a hundred, a thousand times.
So perhaps Gin has developed something of an issue in regards to Jouichirou. A crush, more plainly, but Gin will die before admitting it out loud.
He has far more pressing matters to attend to now that he and Jouichirou have finally made it into the Elite Ten, especially because Jouichirou has a habit of skipping out on his paperwork and leaving Gin to pick up the slack. Well into their second year at Tootsuki, his attitude is still the same.
"I'm gonna kill him," Gin says to Ebisawa one evening at Polar Star, having resorted to bringing his paperwork home from the office in order to finish it all on time. He carefully arranges the papers around the food on the dining table, wary of accidentally spilling something onto the endless pile of club request forms.
"You say that, but you've always had a soft spot for Jouichirou-kun," Ebisawa laughs.
Gin scrapes his signature across a page with particular severity. "I do not," he protests.
"Sure," she says before waltzing off, hiding a smile behind her mug of tea.
Jouichirou arrives home that night with another medal around his neck, the prize from one of his endless number of cooking competitions that he seems to find so much more important than his responsibilities at Tootsuki. Gin nearly comes through on his promise to kill him, particularly by choking him with his shiny new medal, except Jouichirou says, "Hey, Gin! Shokugeki, right now!" and walks into the kitchen without even waiting for Gin's response.
It would have been yes, anyway. Because no matter how much he wants to deny it, Ebisawa is right: he does have a soft spot for Jouichirou, even more than she understands.
With a sigh, Gin sets his reading glasses on top of his very tall and very much due tomorrow paperwork, and follows Jouichirou into the kitchen.
The thing with having a crush on his best friend is that it really doesn't change much. They still do all the same things they used to before Gin's revelation, like play video games, visit local food markets, and of course cook. The only difference is that Gin finds moments to admire Jouichirou in ways he didn't before. More than once does he have to pull his gaze away from the curve of Jouichirou's neck, or stop himself from reaching out to tuck a stray lock of Jouichirou's ever messy hair out of his face. Little things that Gin thinks he can keep a handle on, but it gets more and more difficult with each moment they spend together and with each inch Gin falls deeper into the pit that is liking Saiba Jouichirou.
It doesn't help that he's still receiving those damn love letters every day. Having risen to the 6th seat of the Elite Ten, Gin has his own share of admirers on campus now too, but despite being 7th Jouichirou is still the more talked about. It makes Gin feel irritated, not at the lack of attention to himself, but more at the fact that these strangers have no issue admitting to Jouichirou how they feel, whereas Gin has been holding his feelings close to his chest for nearly a year now.
Christ. He's going to lose his hair early if he keeps stressing himself out and thinking about all this at once.
For now, he will focus on his duties as an Elite Ten. Even if Jouichirou doesn't agree, the position is an important one, and Gin is nothing if not dutiful. Maybe he'll think about his status with Jouichirou when he actually has free time to do so.
Except when he comes home from campus that night and steps into the familiar kitchen of Polar Star to grab a glass of water to bring to his room, he finds exactly who he told himself not to think about.
"Jouichirou?"
He's sitting in a stool, slumped over the kitchen island with his notebook in front of him. When Gin enters the room, he hurries to sit upright.
"Gin," he says, waving a hand tiredly. "'Sup."
He looks… unwell. There are faint circles under his eyes and his ponytail is even lazier than usual.
"Are you alright?" Gin asks, approaching him.
"Me? Yeah, fine." Jouichirou closes his notebook and stretches.
"You look like you didn't sleep well."
"Oh, I was just—workin' on stuff, you know?"
Gin nods slowly. "You weren't at the meeting today, too."
"I know. Sorry."
Any other day, Gin would lecture him about it. But looking at Jouichirou now, with his tired eyes and slumped shoulders, a lecture is probably the last thing he needs.
So he says, "Well. You feeling up to a shokugeki?"
That seems to bring back a little of Jouichirou's usual self. His eyes light up. "Yeah?"
Gin nods, rolling up his sleeves. "We'll need a judge, though."
"I heard 'shokugeki,'" Fumio says, poking her head through the doorway.
"Perfect timing, Fumio-san." Jouichirou grins.
"How about it then?" Gin lifts the corner of his mouth in a smirk. "Unless you're afraid I'll win this time."
"Haha, hilarious," Jouichirou says. "Let's do this."
Even though the challenge rekindled a little of Jouichirou's usual fire, he still seems off to Gin. His movements are a little slower, he takes a few seconds too long to decide on an ingredient before moving on with his dish. Little things, inconsequential to anyone else, but for a perfectionist like Jouichirou it speaks volumes. Working on his own dish, Gin steals glances at him from time to time but can't find the words to voice how he feels. So he moves on, and figures Jouichirou will tell him if something is wrong.
When they both set their finished dishes in front of Fumio, she looks at Jouichirou one moment longer than usual, gauging him. He only gestures to his dish with an open palm and says with a smile, "Dig in."
She takes one bite of it, then another. Then she moves on to Gin's dish, doing the same.
Gin waits with bated breath.
"Well," Fumio says, raising her eyebrows. "This is new."
Gin's eyes widen.
Fumio's hand extends to him.
"The winner, for the first time, is Gin."
It feels like he blacks out for a moment, or his soul temporarily leaves his body. When he returns to reality, Jouichirou is grinning at him.
"Guess you did it this time," he says.
Then it hits him.
"I won!" He grabs Jouichirou by the shoulders.
"Yeah, you did!"
"I won! I—I beat you!"
Gin is still holding his shoulders, nearly shaking him because he actually won.
Jouichirou laughs, clasping Gin's arm. "You earned it."
He has never, ever seen Jouichirou lose before. It is just unheard of. But here he is now, his first win in over seventy battles, and Jouichirou is smiling at him, not looking at all devastated. Gin is so exuberant he feels like—he feels like he could grab Jouichirou by the collar and kiss him.
He really, really wants to kiss him.
The thought hits him like a freight train, and suddenly holding Jouichirou this close feels like too much, too inappropriate.
Gin lets go.
He runs a hand through his hair, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. "Wow. Thank you, Fumio-san."
"Yes, yes," Fumio says, continuing to eat the food presented to her. "Well done, Gin."
"Hey," Jouichirou says, "as congratulations for your first win, I have a gift for you."
"A gift? Really?"
"Yep." Jouichirou smiles, closed mouthed and almost secretive. Gin raises an eyebrow. "I'll give it to you later, it's upstairs."
"I—Alright."
"But before that," Fumio cuts in, shoving two pairs of gloves into their hands, "dishes."
"Yes, ma'am," they say in unison.
The dishes don't take so long between the two of them. It is late in the night now and Polar Star is quiet. Gin follows Jouichirou silently up the stairs until they reach the third floor.
"You can go ahead to your room," Jouichirou says. "I'll be there in a sec."
"Okay." Gin stops in front of his door and watches Jouichirou walk further down the hall, then turns and enters his room.
Sighing tiredly, he unknots his tie and sheds his uniform. He changes into a comfortable pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, and just as he finishes tossing his dirty clothes into the hamper, there is a knock at his door. He walks over, opens it.
Jouichirou is there, having changed into home clothes just like Gin.
"Hey—" he begins saying, before he is cut off by Jouichirou kissing him firmly on the mouth.
He freezes. His mind short circuits, nothing but sparks and white noise filling his head. Jouichirou's body is pressed against his, one hand gripping the back of his neck to keep him there, hold him steady. Gin forgets how to make his body move, and if Jouichirou notices he doesn't say anything, only tilts his head, their lips sliding against each other briefly before he pushes in again, mouths slotting together better than before.
Just like that, Gin remembers. He has wanted this for so long.
His hands settle on Jouichirou's slim hips, and he kisses back.
He gives as much as he can, lips pushing, teeth nipping at the corner of Jouichirou's mouth. Jouichirou exhales the smallest sound, but this close Gin hears it clear as day. He wants to hear it again. They are impossibly close now, no space at all between them. Jouichirou's hand has moved from Gin's neck to his hair, fingers scrabbling in it. When Gin's hands shift upwards and hike up Jouichirou's shirt, palms sliding over the skin beneath, Jouichirou's fingers tighten.
When they pull away, just barely, panting hot breaths into the air between them, Gin says shakily, "Jouichirou, w-what—?"
"Shh," Jouichirou says, kissing Gin's mouth again. He feels drunk on it. "This is your prize, like I said. Well, to be honest, it's kind of my prize, too. We're all winners."
Gin snorts. His thumb rubs a circle on Jouichirou's hip.
"Are you sure?" he asks uncertainly, and Jouichirou rolls his eyes.
"Yes, oh my god, just take me inside already."
Jouichirou kisses him again, pushing him further inside the room. He wastes no time in slipping his tongue into Gin's mouth, and in the messy heat of it all, Gin just barely manages to close the door behind them.
For the first time in all his attendance at Tootsuki, Gin wakes up late and misses his first class.
Even more surprising than that, he does not freak out about it.
He forgot to set an alarm last night and his internal clock didn't come through either. When he opens his eyes and sees the 9AM sunshine pouring through the window instead of the bare dawn light of his usual 5AM, he knows immediately. Ah. I woke up late.
He turns over under the sheets and sees Jouichirou.
He is still fast asleep. His hair is strewn across Gin's pillows and his face is peaceful, relaxed. Even though he missed class, all Gin can think of is that he is glad Jouichirou got some of the rest he looked like he desperately needed. He should probably get up now and try to make it on time to his remaining classes, but he finds the idea of facing his teachers' wrath far less disagreeable than leaving Jouichirou to wake up by himself.
Pulling the sheets up over his shoulder, Gin settles into the pillows, curling himself in towards the warmth of Jouichirou beside him.
Breakfast is an embarrassing affair when they finally make it downstairs. By this time, everyone at Polar Star has gone to their respective classes except for the ever present Fumio, who watches them with a shrewd gaze as they nonchalantly explain that they were up too late last night playing video games. Gin hopes he is not blushing as much as he fears he is.
After that, their classes take them to opposite sides of campus, and Jouichirou salutes goodbye just the same as he usually does: over his shoulder with a carefree grin on his face.
Gin spends the rest of the day trying to focus on his classes but instead, predictably, finds his mind drifting to thoughts of Jouichirou.
He acted mostly normal when he finally woke up. Like finding himself in Gin's bed instead of his own was not strange at all. Gin didn't really know how to bring up the previous night and Jouichirou didn't make an effort to do so either, so the topic remained untouched. Maybe there just wasn't any time—they had class to hurry to, after all, not that Jouichirou has ever cared much about that. But maybe tonight Gin can pull him aside to talk about it. Whatever it is.
Surely he doesn't have the right to call Jouichirou his b… boyfr—
Gin accidentally snaps his pencil in his fist.
Everyone in the room turns around to look at him, including the teacher.
He feels heat rise to his face so quickly it's almost dizzying.
"Ah," he says, "sorry for the interruption."
Chef Hana simply raises an eyebrow at him before returning to writing notes on the board.
Gin resolves not to break anymore pencils for the rest of the day, which means absolutely no more thoughts about Jouichirou.
He passes through his next class with ease, and the one after that. Perhaps keeping his thoughts strictly in the realm of not-Jouichirou won't be so difficult. He can probably even pass through lunch period without thinking about him once.
Not him, not his amber eyes.
"Gin."
Or his messy hair, softer than Gin expected it to be.
"Gin."
Or the firm grip of his hands—
"Gin!"
"What?" Gin says in annoyance, whipping around in his seat in one of Tootsuki's tree-filled courtyards. He freezes when he realizes who was calling him.
"Jeez," Jouichirou says, with a fondness in his voice that is at once new and familiar. "You space out a lot."
"Jouichirou," Gin says, jumping to his feet before realizing such a thing is unnecessary and sheepishly sitting back down.
"That's me." He plops down beside Gin on the bench, one of the wrapped sandwiches they sell around campus clutched in his hand.
"I thought you're usually in the kitchen during lunch period."
Jouichirou takes a bite of his sandwich, speaking as he chews, which is disgusting.
"Yeah, but I didn't feel like it today. Wanted to see you."
Gin nearly crushes his plastic water bottle in his hand. He may need to learn how to reign in his strength when he gets embarrassed. But Jouichirou's words blind-sided him and he finds himself fumbling for a response.
He coughs into his hand, croaks out, "I see."
Jouichirou grins. "Yep."
"I… I'm glad. I wanted to see you, too." Gin looks away when he says this, taking a sip from his half-crushed water bottle. But from the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Jouichirou's grin mellow into a soft, pleased smile.
There is probably no better time than now to bring up what has been lingering in his mind since he woke up this morning beside Jouichirou.
"So," he says carefully, "I know that… my win last night was probably a one-time thing—a rare anomaly, an outlier—but. If you would allow me to… I would not be opposed to challenging you again, if the prize is still the same."
His heart is pounding inside his chest, even faster than when he finishes his sprints back and forth from one edge of campus to the other.
Jouichirou just keeps chewing, lax and easy like Gin hadn't said anything at all.
Then he swallows and says, "Jesus, Gin, could you sound more robotic?"
Gin takes it all back. Saiba Jouichirou is the single worst thing to ever happen to him. He gives him a burning look.
And Jouichirou just laughs, which is all the more frustrating and just so like him that Gin can only be half-annoyed.
"You know," Jouichirou says, leaning in towards Gin until their shoulders touch, "you don't have to win against me in a shokugeki. You can just ask."
As if anything related to Jouichirou has ever been that easy. Gin has known him too long to expect things to be simple, to not think there will be twists and turns and surprises ahead of him, whether it is inside the kitchen or out of it. But just like every time before now, Gin finds himself wanting to chase after him anyway. All he's ever really wanted is to stay by Jouichirou's side, and now he is making the choice clear. Maybe some things can be that simple.
"Fine," he says, turning to look at him. "Jouichirou, may I kiss you?"
Jouichirou grins, moving forward the last few inches of space between them. "Finally."