Haaaa... Hello! Hello! This idea had been hurling itself against my poor battered skull for a really long time and I just had to write it. I have a love for under-rated characters or characters that don't get enough screen/manga time. I also have a love of writing smut and sexual tension between characters. I thought, who's the dark horse in Shokugeki no Souma? The one who is unsuspectingly, and unconventionally attractive, whom I can gift with some sexy fun-time?

Answer: Doujima Gin.

Because the man's outrageous muscles can't be ignored (No really, they stab you in the eyes)

HERE'S ANOTHER PET PROJECT! ENJOY!

Sleeping Thunder

"I must congratulate you on your stupendous achievement Doujima-san"

"Hear, hear! I've never seen the Tootsuki Resort look so magnificent as it is now! I'm sure under your management, it will continue to expand"

Gin smiled warmly and shook hands with each gentleman and lady who were keen to come and greet him. They showered him in loud praises and compliments. He had to admit that his accomplishment in building a new ballroom for the forever-multiplying Nakiri Enterprise was one of his most successful projects. It was a pain-stakingly long endeavour, it took years, but he could now enjoy the fruits of his labour unimpeded and proudly. They stood in an awe-inspiring and grandiose chamber. The ceiling was twenty-feet high, enough to make any cathedral hiss in envy. The walls were covered in a shimmering gold paper and hanging on the walls were series of gilded mirrors, whose golden frames dared the guests to ruin the perfectly buffed surface with their unworthy fingerprints.

"My… The lighting in here is just dazzling. I feel honoured to be invited to Senzaemon-dono's celebrations and enjoy this excellent ballroom"

The gentleman's wife hummed in agreement as she dipped her head backwards to admire the source of the bright glow. Presiding over the dignitaries and celebrities was the most superb chandelier. It dripped with the best-cut diamonds and was made from white gold. The chandelier alone was worth more than the combined annual incomes of all the resort staff. It had been crafted six months previously when the Director, Nakiri Senzaemon had commissioned it out of remembrance for his late wife and gorgeous daughter.

The windows at the feature wall were large, mullioned and towering and almost cathedral-like, also. On the other side of the ballroom, opened to floor to ceiling French doors which lead out into the sandstone balcony for one to enjoy the stunning mountain views. Towards the north side was the stage showcasing a grand piano. It was a grand structure molded to the centre-left, all shiny and pitch black until in tonight's performance, the accompanying pianist lifts the falls. Then the row of pure ivory keys will march into view.

Exactly thirty-five circular oak tables situated towards the west end and exactly thirty-five oak tables were situated at the east end. Each table was carefully clothed in fine tablecloths designed with a grand chrysanthemum woven in gold and green into the fabric itself. The polished silver cutlery was heavy to the hand and shone brightly under the brilliant lighting of the chandelier. At each place stood a tall empty wine glass and there were beautifully folded napkins to match the tablecloth. Tall, silver candelabras commanded attention from the centre of each table, holding smooth white candles. The chairs were beautiful in its simplicity, all clean straight lines and high backs.

All that was missing was the food.

"You've outdone yourself this time Doujima-san. I can't wait to see what other projects you'll embark on for Nakiri Enterprise. As a prominent stockholder, I can say I won't be disappointed for the future"

Gin was never accustomed to praises as a child and series of successes had taught him to how to receive it. Gin decided a curt nod and professional smile was sufficient enough to welcome the accolades without being substandard about it.

"Thank you, Nara-sama. I wouldn't have achieved this without the support from all the board members as well as the tireless work from the most hardworking team I've had the privilege to work with, and whom I am honoured to call my staff"

"Get a load of this guy! Always so humble! Ah the Orie sisters have arrived. Do excuse us"

Gin side-stepped to let the portly man and his stunning wife aside as he made his way through the sea of fine fabric and silk. Then he noticed a few more men, with and without their spouses heading in the same direction. Men. The Orie sisters were greatly renown not just for being the head of the Haubi Food Corporation, but also for their charming and sultry beauty. They demanded rather than commanded attention everywhere they went and why should this event be any different. Gin took a comfortable deep breath and felt his dress-shirt and bow-tie ripple like a second skin around his broad chest. It was so hard to find shirts that fitted him well enough. He always had to be careful not to move around so harshly as to rip anything at the seams. It had happened before and it wasn't fun. This was a very special occasion and he had to dress as glamorously as possible, no excuses. He would've been fine with a simple formal suit from one his tailour collection of work attire, however the occasion called for his rarely used, expensive three-piece tailored Armani. He bore his laundered and pressed dinner jacket and underneath was a crimson waistcoat and striped tie. His shoes were expertly shined and the cufflinks he chose for tonight were simply silver, like his namesake. Since he kept his hair devastatingly short, he needn't worry about matching his colourings to anything, so his piece was an easy choice. Gin ran his eyes over the heads of the crowd easily. He could spot members of the noble House of Nakiri melting through the guests repeating their scripted welcomes and 'thankyous' to the esteemed guests with well-trained smiles.

Gin strode across the rich, plush, burgundy carpet until he reached the marble dance floor in the middle of the ballroom. The heels of his shoes clicked as he reached some of the alumni he had the pleasure of working with in previous Tootsuki Academy-held competitions.

"Ah Doujima-senpai! There you are. We were about to head out looking for you!"

Gin leaned over and kissed Inui Hinako on the cheek to say Hello and he did the same to Mizuhara Fuyumi. Hinako-san was dressed in a beautiful sky-blue chiffon dress which reached her ankles. Her neck and wrist sparkled with expensive silver jewellery and her hair was professionally and carefully styled in a natural up-do. Her face was lightly tinged with carefully-applied makeup and her hazel eyes sparkled under the light.

"Good to see you this evening, Inui-san, Mizuhara-san. I trust you are enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh you bet we are. This place is amazing. Well done" Inui-san said demurely.

"We wouldn't miss this" replied Mizuhara-san.

"I love the architecture of this place. Great interiors too. It's so Nakiri" Inui-san marvelled at the grand expanse of the ballroom.

Mizuhara-san wore a greenish-blue gown made of soft, satiny fabric, long and loose. A semi-circular, high collar made of silk-like materials headed the ankle length robe. She too had some light make-up, however her hair was left in its natural state. It was very odd to see these two rambunctious chefs in such fine clothing, so Gin enjoyed it while he could. A waiter floated by and Inui-san lifted a glass of wine without missing and beat and sipped it daintily. Gin had chosen the wine himself. It was a gold-coloured Moselle. He watched as Inui-san hummed in a happy surprise as she appraised the vintage.

"Oh, this tastes great. Very soft and rich" she slightly swirled it in her glass and sniffed it also.

"That's good. It would be a disaster if it was a 1975 Boudreaux"

"Haha, you're so funny" giggled Inui-san as she took another sip.

"Have you seen Shinomiya-san? Is he here yet?" asked Mizuhara-san.

"No, he isn't. He declined in his RSVP, saying that he other events had over-taken him"

Mizuhara-san puffed out her cheeks with an unimpressed 'hmph'.

Soon they engaged in a much-needed catch-up session while Inui-san still had her wits about her. He was comforted to hear that his kohais were continuing to do well and their passion for food was still alive and thriving. Inui-san had opened another ryokan in Hokkaidou, and the sea-foam haired Italian chef had snatched yet another Michelin star for Restaurant F. It was always a wonder to hear about how everybody went on after leaving Tootsuki. Many people he knew went on to either take over their family's business like receiving an heirloom while others established their own businesses and carved a place for themselves in the gourmet food world. Then there were the outliers who admonished convention and sought their own path like Jouichirou. Nostalgia squeezed his heart as he thought of his dear friend and even wondered where he was and what was up to now. Eventually, Mizuhara-san was stolen away by another dignitary who was very keen to engage in enthusiastic conversation with her and Inui-san had gone off to continue to admire the ballroom with her wine in hand. Gin bumped into other guests who whisked him into idle conversation about their company and corporations and how they could further their partnership with the Nakiri Enterprise. Gin listened to them half-attentively until something infringed upon his field of vision.

A sparkle of majestic amethyst eyes.

A woman.

Gin felt the air snatch from his lungs. They lingered for an infinitesimal fraction of a second before it was gone in the sea of people.

'What the…'

He blinked, wondering if he just imagined it when suddenly the gentleman, whom he forgot his name said something to catch his attention again. The slim man in the 'penguin suit' puffed out his chest as he regaled his tale about the stock-market exchange and how it turned the tables on the fishing industry which greatly benefited his father's company and position in the fishing business. Gin pushed his thoughts aside and tried to fix his focus back on the man and the bits of important information he was sure to use for future business dealings, but was failing all the same. He'd never felt so suddenly restless nor had his mind ever been so pre-occupied by the sight of a woman before. It was only fleeting, and yet he felt an impression had already made itself an alcove on his consciousness. It unsettled him. He could only see those pair of sparkling, haunting violet eyes disappearing before he could ascertain who that mysterious guest was. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he gladly excused himself from the failing conversation. He checked is phone and found his alarm had gone off, signalling that the evening was ready for the next part of the grand celebrations. As if on cue, the lights slightly dimmed and everyone who had remained standing made their way to their seats at the table.

Gin took his place at the main table, aside from the main branch of the Nakiri family. He nodded to his closest colleagues and carefully eased his muscular body into the chair and tucked himself in.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for coming along to be a part of this special occasion"

Gin turned his attention to the amplified voice at the north side. The emcee walked along the elevated platform which acted as a stage. The spotlight shined on him like a beacon from Kami-sama. The bright smile he shone could rival the spotlight he was in. The man expertly twirled the microphone in his hands and balanced his palm cards in his other.

"As you know, it's not every day you turn ninety years old and yet still can rescue a farmer from underneath a wooden cart in horrific rainy weather. Senzaemon-dono, you make it look classy!

The crowd erupted into laughter, whistles and polite applause for the joke as the patriarch of the Nakiri family sat poised and composed decked out in his traditional formal kimono at the centre of the huge mahogany table reserved only for the more intimate members of his illustrious family. His aged eyes, were twin wells of jet-black and framed by thick snowy eyebrows. They twinkled with a youthful vigour which belied his age and his heavily moustached lip quirked in good humour. He tilted his wizened face towards the guests who turned around to appraise him. The Nakiri's Patriarch's deep wrinkles seemed to carve out a map of his life on his still agile and mobile face.

Gin remembered that tale. It was only several months ago that in a downpour, Senzaemon-dono happened to be visiting one of the pig-farms where Tootsuki bought their organic meats from. One of the pig farmer was unloading a wooden cartful of pig-feed, when he his phone slipped out and dropped into the mud, underneath the cart. When the farmer went to retrieve it, the mud gave way and the wooden cart collapsed into the slick, wet soil and the distraught farmer was trapped. Kami-sama knew how long he was helpless and terrified when on happenstance Senzaemon appeared at the right moment while he was on a tour to see how the pigs were kept and treated. Nobody could fault that the Nakiri patriarch's physical prowess and sense of citizenship. The nonagenarian had rolled up his sleeves without a word and fitted himself underneath the draftpole. In a feat of utter strength, he had lifted the heavy cart with his bare-shoulders as if it was nothing more than an exercise routine. It had allowed the poor farmer to scramble out to safety.

More waiters started flowing in from the kitchens cradling bottles of expensive wine on hand and began to expertly fill the glasses with golden liquid ambrosia much the guests' delight.

"Congratulations Senzaemon-dono. Your achievements in contributions as a wise businessman, nurturing teacher, and unparalleled excellence as a chef to the gourmet food world have been astounding and Japan wouldn't be at the peak of the food industry, hospitality industry and haute cuisine and culture, if it weren't for you. I'd like to take this moment to thank you and express my deepest gratitude for all you have done for the future generation of burgeoning, talented chefs who follow your teachings and footsteps in Tootsuki Academy to continue to bring Japan forward in the culinary empire. HAPPY NINETIETH BIRTHDAY, NAKIRI SENZAEMON-DONO!"

"KAMPAI!"

Gin lifted his glass of wine in a cheer and heartily sipped his share. The rich fullness of the wine danced against his tongue. The fruitiness was soft against his palate and he could imagine himself enjoying the wine at any time in the day, especially in the day.

"Ladies and gentlemen. We have a special performance for you tonight. She has travelled half-way around the world to be here with you all to take part in Senzaemon-dono's birthday celebration with us tonight. Please give a warm welcome to our illustrious singer tonight-"

The exuberant man stepped to the side to make way

"Kinomoto Yura!"

The audience gave a resounding applause as a woman strode out onto the stage. Gin's eyes widened a fraction as realisation dawned on him. It was her. She was a breath-taking vision to behold. Something radiate from within her that rendered her irresistible. His grey eyes fixed on her presence as her pace slowed and stopped in front of the microphone stand. She pivoted, torso first, hips second, ever so gracefully towards the audience as if they were her subjects and she, their queen. She stood there, brilliant and poised as her large, deep amythest eyes graced the crowd in alluring confidence. She lifted a slender manicured finger and gently guided a short lock of hair from her lovely face and secured it around her ear. It looked so smooth and silky, as if tailoured from silver fabric The corners of her plump limps eased into a soft beguiling smile as her gaze continued to glide on them like a sheet of gossamer.

'Kami-sama…'

She could've graced any billboard or magazine cover, but she was better than those two-dimensional photoshopped models. Gin's eyebrows raised on their own accord as he drank in the ethereal visage of that woman. The same women with the deep amethyst orbs which stole the breath from him only moments before. She wore a long black gown which pooled at her ankles and had long slits cut in precision into the sides as if a samurai had done the honours. Her dress wore sheer sleeves stitched with black embroidered stars, and they molded against the thin frame of her arms. The light fabric shimmered in the sparkling stage light as if they were the moon on a starry-night, bright, beautiful, and breath-taking. If the Gods were real, then this woman was their masterpiece.

Then her gaze landed on him.

Gin sucked in a breath as her eyes held his for a torturously long moment. He couldn't find the willpower to pull away. The purple majesty of her hues drew him deeper into the maelstrom of intensity. Then finally, her thick stygian lashes fluttered like butterfly wings slowly, as if weighting her eyelids as she continued to paralyse his body under hooded eyes. Her long willowy arm lifted as if to caress the air, until her hand landed softly to curl around the microphone as she had obviously done a million times.

"I know her. She used to be an alto singer and now she's an opera singer. She was the opening act and duet partner for Andrea Bocelli's European tour last November"

"Andrea Bocelli?! How did she manage that?"

"What a time to be alive. Her singing is just heavenly"

Gin struggled to breath as many things he couldn't name were warring with each other on the inside. He had never in his life had laid eyes on a woman as stunning as she. Kinomoto Yura, an opera singer? Invited to perform for the Nakiri? The name evoked familiarity, probably one of his staff members mentioning the guest performance, but since it was not he who organised entertainment, it had bore little significance to him. Before he could think about what voice could project, the chandelier dimmed, casting the ballroom into a twilit ambient glow.

Then…

A lone sombre melody oozed from the piano like hot maltose. The woman closed her eyes as if drifting into a hypnotic sleep and he was instantly released from her spell, although he knew this reprieve wouldn't last for long. He hadn't realised he was clenching his fists beneath the table so tightly until he inadvertently dug them deeper and he instantly released his fingers. Her head lolled gently to the side, just shy of the sheer butterfly-sleeves of her dress as she listened to the music, as if it was wooing her in its melancholic grace. Then it was cut through by a mournful violin which made his heart ached for no reason. Then her pale-pink rose-bud lips parted and he was instantly hit with a burning sensation in his gut as he watched with rapt attention how it opened beckoned him to lean closer in his seat with its sultriness.

"Deus dormit
Et liberi ignem faciunt
Numquam extinguunt
Ne expergisci possit

Omnia dividit
Tragoedia coram
Amandum quae"

Her voice was so exquisite. It rolled higher and higher over the hills in sorrowful waves, so deep and alluring. It was so smooth and clear, that it sliced through the elegant piano and violin work, rendering them sub-standard to her own human instrument. He dared not move, dared not breathe, he was frozen in his seat. The exotic words rolled off her tongue with such ease. The hairs on his solid arms stood at attention as a militia of chills ran down his spine as the brewing volume and strength of her note was spell-binding. The beating got louder and louder as he was transfixed on the woman on stage, and his ears were totally captivated by the swell of the violin and piano whisked him off the mortal planes as his harmonies. If it weren't for the intense swells and crescendo of the piano and violin, he was sure the whole ballroom could hear the cacophonous thrumming rhythm belting from his ribcage. The singer

"Et nocte perpetua
In desperatio
Auroram videre potest
Mane tempus expergiscendi"

Swells of power rose in her throat. Even without the instrumentals, her voice was music, and grace, and the haunting feeling of knowing that her voice brought out a resounding combination of hope and sadness through the beautiful melody filled him with a yearning. Her hand went to her heart as she purred the final notes. Not a single breath was permitted to anyone's body as they were enslaved by her performance. All that was left was the piano's tones lingering in the air.

Her thick lashes fluttered again revealing those twin sets of amethyst. He didn't know if it was Kami-sama's doing, or if it was coincidence but it she was directly looking at him, amongst the dim crowd. The applause erupted like an auditory volcano. It was deafening. Her eyes flickered away from his and he felt his sense of self return as she acknowledged the rest of the ballroom. Her bright smile shone as she bowed low starting from her left and moving to her right. Her moonlit locks fell past her ears and when she rose back up to her full height, they swayed and rested gently back into place. Gin stood up and managed to clap along as the majority rose to a crescendo and then fell to a trickle.

'Kinomoto Yura…"

4 years later

"Welcome, everyone… to the Tootsuki Resort Hotels. The alumni gathered here today are all head-chefs and owners of their own restaurants. For the six days you are here, you will each be treated as their own employees. In other words, if your work isn't up to our standards…"

A thumb slashed through the air.

"You're fired…!"

She could feel all the shivering students' hearts plummet to their feet. His man's face was etched into a near sadistic smile as he stared at the mass of nubile your students down the barrel of his nose. It sounded like failure was intolerable in this culinary school and it was imperative that the students of learned that in their youth, while they still have their future in the culinary industry to look forward to. Their faces were contorted in apprehension, panic and worry. Their eyes were blown wide with dread and uncertainty. Their mouths were agape as they stared at himself and the alumni in disbelief. They were still reeling from that haughty chef with the red neckerchief and glasses, singling out and expelling the unfortunate student with the scented shampoo, or hair gel whatever it was. This was no joke. This was real.

Kinomoto Yura was glad her old high school was never this cut-throat.

"As you've seen, the instructors can expel you at any time for any reason. I wish you all the best of luck. That is all… EVERYONE PROCEED TO YOUR GROUPS!"

The stampede was almost instantaneous as mass of students rushed out of the ballroom with flailing limbs at light speed into the opposite doors. They were all competing against each other for the first assessment of the semester, poorly named as the Friendship and Rapport Building Training Camp. It looked like enemies were more likely to emerge than friendship. The concierge was required to notify and thoroughly inform her of the special six-day event that was taking place in the resort. As long as it didn't affect her stay her, she was was familiar with competition as an opera singer, and before that an alto vocalist. Competition wasn't bad if one knew how to handle it, how to make it a positive motivator. After the students realised that, they should be able to handle anything that came their way. Yura had already spotted a handful of teens who had the mindset of a winner written all over their faces.

The concierge was also happy to inform her that most of the guests in the hotel were the families of the producers who partnered with Tootsuki Resort Hotels to provide all of their ingredients. It seemed they were courteous enough to serve as judges for the students. She found it amusing that the students' themes were 'eggs'. Such a normal and unassuming ingredient.

"Kinomoto-san, your luggage has been brought to your suite"

"Ah, thank you" she replied to the concierge.

He gave her a short bow before swiftly moving back to his post. Yura removed herself from the slightly ajar door, which she had been secretly peering through. She remembered the grandiose ballroom from four years ago as if it were just yesterday. It had been a spectacular evening and she awarded it the third position in her list of favourite performances. Her thoughts returned to the man at the podium.

'He looks familiar'

She tapped her finger on her chin. The fleeting thought escaped her as she tried hard to remember where she had seen the tall, robust man before.

Ah yes, he was at that party, in that very same ballroom.

He was certainly a unique specimen and it was a wonder she didn't recognise him as soon as she saw him in the distance. He stuck out from the crowd like a tall poppy. The males that surrounded her were mainly up-and-coming youthful, lanky androgynous boy bands who frequented her studio for vocal training. Then there was the slick, shapeless and aristocratic patrons of the opera theatre which she regularly performed in. They there were the trendy and hipster solo-artists who sometimes co-wrote songs with her. They blended seamlessly into the latest fashion. Then there were the haggard, coffee-driven music producers and jittery interns who scrambled all over the place.

And her manager who was in a completely different catetory.

This man however was uncommon to her. He was powerfully built, that she couldn't help raising a delicate eyebrow at. She had to guess he was a full head taller than her, which was something as she was taller than most Japanese women. She could tell he was all seriousness, from the low timbre of his voice firmly addressing the students, to his overall appearance. The man was clean shaven and utterly presentable that she couldn't find a fault in his presentation. He donned a crisp business suit which was devoid of any unnecessary colouring, except for the gaudy yellow tie, like a typical workaholic. His hair was cropped so short she might've thought he was originally a military career man before making the switch for his civilian clothes. She could see his chest muscles bulging from the confines of his suit and his biceps hidden under the jacket were balls of strength. His thick hands which had held the podium looked like it could crush the wood into splinters. He was not handsome in the conventional sense, but Yura found the appeal. Maybe it was the masculinity and the way he carried himself so tall and confident. He seemed to exude not just physical strength, but mental strength as well. His eyes held intelligence and acuity. There was nothing tricky or deceptive in them as he had told the student exactly how it was and how gruelling, their training camp was going to be. It was refreshing to see considering it was a rarity to come across these sorts of men.

'Kami-sama… It goes to show how long it's been since I've been with a guy'

Yura shook her head in silent reprimand.

She readjusted her Louis Vutton handbagand sauntered across the hotel lobby. The floor was tiled in fine marble, which made every click of her stiletto echo. A chandelier made rainbows colours dance across the luxurious lobby. Embroidered silk sofas surrounded a large flat-screen television. The twin doors she had passed through to enter the lobby was pristine white with golden handles. The check-in desk was made of amber-coloured wood and a greet granite top. Exquisite paintings hung from rich, red walls. Even the door hinges were engraved with swirls and elegant designs. Once Yura reached the elevators, she pressed the button. It was exactly as she remembered it. Inside was white marble walls, a blue carpet, a silver handrail and a palette of buttons. She pressed the button for her floor, thinking about the few things she had to do. She had a few calls to make, including her producer. She waited for the pristine elevator doors to shut as she let the whimsical elevator music ease her into her normal thought patterns.

"Excuse me!"

Yura spun around and shot out her arm to stop the elevator doors, but before she could even touch the metallic sides, a large hand wedged in and parted them, and they yielded without complaint. She retracted her hand quickly. She shuffled to the side to allow the late-comer to ease in. She looked up and was almost nose-to-chest.

It was him.

The man she was studying before. He looked a lot more impressive up close! She could see the bulging muscles of his neck as well, as they were barely held together by his dress-shirt collar and tie the huge elevator suddenly seemed a lot smaller now. He glanced down at her and she could've sworn he did a double-take on her, before his expression returned to his controlled and calm state.

"Thank you, miss" he said curtly with a small smile.

"I barely did anything" she replied with a demure smile before looking away to concentrate on the elevator numbers. The slight pull of gravity alerted her that elevator finally moved.

Her eyes swept over his hulking frame one last time, taking him in up close. His eyes were directed resolutely forward as if she was nothing but just an ordinary elevator patron. She supposed she was, if he had no idea who she was. She found that an oddly nice feeling, to be considered as somebody ordinary. When was the last time she felt like that? Before she turned away, she had spotted a small silver stud in his left ear. It seemed he might have a rebellious streak in that body of solid muscles somewhere, huh? My, things certainly got interesting. She had an eye for jewellery and it was often one of the first things she noticed in a woman since they were often so damn loud and bright, so it was no surprise she zeroed in on men's from time to time. She didn't think a man such as he who projected business, business, business would fancy accessories with something related to 'punk'. She then noticed he had a soft and pleasant cologne. Suitable for business meetings. It smelled generic, but did the job all the same. If she was honest with herself, she was quite tired of the fashionable musk blended with complicated notes that all men spent a ridiculous amount of money.

The hair on her nape shivered. She became aware of a pair of steely eyes on her.

"I hope you'll enjoy your stay at Tootsuki Resort"

Yura normally didn't do small-talk in elevators.

"I've been here before and it was a wonderful experience, so I'm sure I will do so again" she replied softly.

She turned her eyes to meet his again and this time, he was sporting a smile which made his strict features soften. He had a very round face, from not having any hair to shape it and he had a strong, chiselled jaw, which looked like it could crack walnuts. His eyebrows were an interesting shape, but it seemed to suit him, oddly enough. There was a flickering of recognition in his eyes and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I believe you sang for our company Founder Nakiri Senzaemon-dono four years ago in this very hotel. I had the pleasure of witnessing your performance" he said.

Yura nodded, a small smile creeping up her lips at the memory of the gentleman who actually made her attention waver for that one night. He remembered her too and a part of her was delightfully elated.

"I remember. It was a magnificent evening. I was honoured to be invited to sing. I hope you enjoyed my performance"

"Indeed, I did"

The elevator slowed to a halt with a single ring of the bell. It was her floor. Yura quickly glanced back to Doujima-san to give a parting nod. He held out his large arm to hold the elevator door and she was, once again impressed that chivalry wasn't quite dead yet. She took a step onto the plush carpet in the spacious hallway. She entertained the thought of asking his name, for politeness sake. So when she turned around with the question at the tip of her tongue, he spoke.

"My name is Doujima Gin. General head chef and hotel branch manager. It's a pleasure to meet you in person"

"Kinomoto Yura. Singer-songwriter. Likewise"

"Have a good day, Kinomoto-san"

"You too Doujima-san"

Then the elevator doors closed and separated them, leaving Yura to bask in the brilliant shine of Tootsuki's twentieth floor. She wondered if she would run into him again.

The Next Night

"I'm so glad I ordered room service. What an animal house down there" she murmured.

Yura wished she could stay longer in the onsen, but the heat was making her heart beat too fast, the early warning sign that she needed to cool down her body before she hit arrhythmia. Her slipper clad feet softly padded against the wooden corridor which lead away from the indoor baths. It was one of the best onsens she had been in her life. The hotel boasted indoor and outdoor hot springs saturated with healthy, natural minerals from the natural geothermal water under the bedrock. She chose the outdoor onsen. When she had slipped into the waters, letting the night-time music of nature wash over her. She had felt all her trouble melt away and her mind slip into tranquillity.

She remembered her manager telling her that the resort also had a garden and she hadn't had the chance to see it last time she was here. So Yura decided that while it was still late, and most guests were back in their rooms, she would take advantage of the reprieve night-time stroll to admire it. She was clad in her yukata with a thin robe with rabbit fur lining to keep the night-time chills away. She never wore the yukatas supplied by hotels. There wasn't anything wrong with them, she just preferred the comfort of her own. She had chosen a rich silk weave she had bought in Kyotou. She was in love with the pattern and had to have it. Its patterned silver and gold petals of gardenias floated across her chest, drifting, drifting, drifting in a smooth winding motion to consequently pass over the edges of her knees and gather at the bottom hem of robe in light smooth piles at her ankles.

'Here we are'

Yura finally reached the foyer which lead out into the gardens. The sliding door was closed, but when she pushed it open it easily gave way with a soft 'whoosh'. It was beautiful. Bonsai trees lined the perfect lawn in their wooden boxes. The air was pungent with the fragrance of jasmine. This was no natural basin filled with melt water, but the luxury addition of to a formal garden by the Head of the Nakiri Clan. Yura stepped closer off the boardwalk and into the garden. She picked up the hem of her yukata and knelt to the edge. There was a wooden bridge that crossed the middle so one could look down at the koi carp, but decided to ignore it, preferring to get closer to the softly rippling waters. The soft glow of the stone lanterns casted a soft ambience which revealed the opaque green surface of the koi-pond. She was sure in the daylight, she would see the plants and life below the surface. She expected to see koi carp and she wasn't disappointed, if anything she was impressed. They were huge and numerous, each about as long as her arm. She gazed across the wind-ruffled surface to the lily-pads in bloom, their white or magenta petals catching the breeze. She inhaled slowly.

Peace.

A flicker in the distance.

Yura jutted her chin up as suspicious roused her. Was it a paparazzi? She was about to get up and dash back inside, when a twig snapped in the darkness, dotted by amber lantern lights. No… it wasn't paparazzi, they were more careful than to step on a stick. It was something else. Curiosity got the better of her. She turned back around and again, lifted the hem of her yukata and carefully stepped further into the garden to investigate the disturbance. The breeze whipped her silky-silvery strands against her face.

A harsh, deep grunt resounded in the night.

Yura squinted in the darkness, the lanterns offering a bit of help. She pulled the gold-silk collar of her yukata tighter against her chest. She dipped slightly behind a well-pruned azalea bush and peaked her head just clear of the deep-green foliage. The garden was bigger that she thought. There was a wider space.

"Doujima-san…"

Yura sucked in a breath as his shirtless torso was exposed to her. Gawking wouldn't describe her state. She was shocked, stunned, flabbergasted, amazed, wonderstruck! She was mesmerised by his physique. The suit he wore in the ballroom only yesterday did a masterful job in hiding his true body. It was nothing like she'd ever seen before. Her cheeks grew flushed as she couldn't tear her eyes away. Doujima-san seemed to be in a trance as he practiced precise movements. Was he… doing some sort of exercise? Or was it stretching? The shameful side of her thought his body was drool-worthy… He had a chiselled chest and skin glowed healthily in the lanturn lights. His abdominals were sculpted to perfection as his six-pack popped, instantly giving off the impression he came off of a body-builder's magazine. She was unlikely to forget about this in years. His biceps curling had to be the size of her head and his triceps looked like diamonds and completing his masterpiece of a bodice, his shoulders, around and protruding, gave his whole look a new flavour. Yura wanted to extend her hand and touch it, but instantly knew that was a downright creepy.

As Yura leaned forward, her sleeve caught on the small sprigs and pulled causes a loud rustling.

'Shit!'

She darted her eyes down and jerked her hand to free her sleeve, but the bush rustled again.

"Who's there?"

His voice rumbled in the night, slightly breathless from his exercises or whatever that fascinating display was. She tsked and cursed her luck. She managed to free her yukata from the merciless bush and when she turned around steely grey met her shocked violet orbs. Her mouth fell open.

"Kinomoto-san?"

Her heart pounded in her ears and embarrassment smacked her in the face. While she was distracted in salvaging her yukata, she scarefly heard Doujima-san making his way towards her location, wanting to discover himself who was peeping on him. His tanned chest shone with a thin sheen of sweat. Her lips automatically darted out to wet her dry lips. Ha… how was she going to explain how she was not spying on the huge man.

"My a-apologies" Yura stuttered. She tried so hard to avert her eyes, fearing that ogling Doujima-san was beyond rude. "I was just in the garden and I heard a noise. I thought it might have been the paparazzi, so I came to confront them"

"Paparazzi? We have very strict security here, Kinomoto-san. You need not worry about them entering the premesis" he said.

Doujima-san pulled up the sleeves of his own large yukata, covering his huge form again. Yura realised they dangled from his waist, only held up by the obi. He readjusted his belt and secured it in place. Yura looked up at him and saw that he had a rather pensive countenance.

"I sometimes do a bit of exercise, pilates or yoga in the East garden to relax after a trying day. I find that night is more peaceful and there is a minimal chance of disturbance" said Doujima-san. He turned towards the hotel. Yura was still feeling a bit unbalanced from her embarrassment and just nodded. She summoned her confidence, and melted back into her singer-persona. The one she presented to her audience to dazzle them.

"Are you hungry?"

"Pardon?"

Yura looked to her right. Doujima-san was regarding her with a gleam in his eyes. She swallowed thickly, not quite sure what to make of his question.

"I also tend to go to the kitchens to make myself something to eat before retiring completely for the night. I wondered if you might join me"

Yura was non-plussed. He mentioned he was the general-head chef Tootuski Resort. Head chef huh. His food must be out of this world. Yura had dined in many top restaurants around the world, including Tootsuki. Their menu was absolutely divine, but she wondered if the dishes she had were ever created by the Head Chef's hands. Well, here was an opportunity presenting itself.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish, so why not"

Doujima-san smiled and made her legs turn to jelly. She quickly recovered and followed him back to the hotel, looking forward to a superb dish created by the head chef's hands.

He lied to her.

Training in the gardens wasn't any sort of ritual to him. The most he did was some physical maintenance in the bath-house. However, the humidity did little to relax the tension in his muscles or the his wrought gut. He just couldn't get her eyes out of his head. For four years, he was able to push those hypnotic orbs, and enticing voice out of his mind. But when he saw her again, standing in the elevator, it brought all those tumultuous emotions back. They were a rapturous shade of amethyst purple, much more beautiful than any other eye colour in the world. Each eye held a coruscate gleam that enhanced their beauty. Her snow while skin was a stark contrast to his own tanned skin and looked so soft to touch and he found himself imagining what it felt like under his fingertips. Luckily, Yukihira Souma's appearance in the bath house dampened any desirous feelings he was delirious close to succumbing to. That would've been so improper. The young red-heads light-hearted conversation provided the perfect distraction. Then the young blonde student with the Italian accent burst in. That was when he had thought it was time to leave, as the heat and steam was starting to get to him. He had been in the bath-house for almost an hour anyway.

Gin could feel her presence behind him as he led her down into the kitchens. He didn't know what on earth he was going to cook, nor did he know what came over him to invite her to eat with him so late in the night. He just hope he didn't regret it. Gin tentatively glanced over his shoulder. Her attention was on something else, looking out the windows of the corridor into the night. He noted her yukata. It wasn't any of the complimentary ones the hotel supplied. The difference in quality was obvious. Her yukata was gold trimmed and snow-white. Carefully embroidered pale purple and dark pink petals scattered across the fine fabric as if carried by the spring breeze. It looked wonderful on her. Her obi was white and gold to compliment the colour scheme. It looked too ornate for a sleeping yukata. Her footsteps barely made any noise. She looked like she was deep in her thoughts.

He didn't want to shatter the visage in his presence.

Finally, they reached the kitchens. As expected, it was spotlessly clean and shining with absolute hygiene. Every surface was wiped down and there wasn't a single spot of water mark. Every metal surface shine under the light and every utensil was in their proper.

"Did you have anything in mind?" He turned to asked Kinomoto-san.

Her eyes slowly lifted to his and it almost tore him asunder.

"Hmm…"

Her voice purred. Even when she spoke normally, her voice was liquid velvet. Her lips tilted up. She rested her elbows against his kitchen surface as if she was in her own home, stirring something tight and grating behind his navel.

"Something with eggs"

Gin blinked a few times. Eggs? Tomorrow morning's theme was going to be 'eggs', where all students who passed the first two tasks will have to make two hundred servings of an egg breakfast dish for the hotel guests. He wondered if she somehow knew, or if it was by coincidence. No matter. Nothing was going to stop him from making the best 'egg' dish she'll ever eat. He was Doujima Gin. He was the first seater on the Elite Ten council of the sixty-ninth generation. He had passed with highest score in Tootsuki history and became a legendary chef right out of Tootsuki. He had received over eight hundred job offers from around the world when as soon as he graduated. Even now, he was unparalleled, except when against Nakiri Senzaemon.

He felt scorching eyes on him and knew that Kinomoto, the singer-song writer was heavily scrutinising him, ready to assess his skill as a chef from the eyes of a customer. He found that oddly titillating. He strode to the pantry and took out six fresh eggs. He turned them in he large palms.

"Eggs, it is"

She smirked.

He had a feeling… she wasn't actually going to judge him as a chef…

Soufflé

He made four-cheese soufflé

She was astounded. The raw speed, power and delicacy in how he handled his ingredients and how he cooked was nothing short of amazing. Sat before her now was the fluffiest thing she'd seen ever seen in a ramekin. It wobbled when Doujima-san pushed it towards her. It was all pale yellow and cicatrices of light brown on top. It smelt warm and inviting. Her stomach revolted against her, wanting her to make quick work on this simple looking, but technical dish. Her tongue teased her lips open as she felt saliva pooling into her mouth. Her cheeks flushed from the light tendrils of steam caressing her. She crossed her legs and straightened her back as sh took up her silver spoon and carefully sank it into the cloud of egg whites and cheese. She lifted the pale-yellow morsel up for inspection. The airiness caused it to sway in front of her and her lips fell open in wonder. How could such as small thing look so delectable.

"Your famous four-cheese soufflé?" she asked in amusement.

"Correct. Please dig in"

He didn't bother serving any accompaniment to the soufflé, as he was that confident that this serving would be enough for her. Doujima-san crossed his huge arms across his even huger chest as he stared at her with confident anticipation. She darted her eyes away from him decided it was best to engulf the spoonful while it was still nice and hot.

The result was devastating.

She didn't know what was happening but she no longer wanted the four-cheese soufflé.

She wanted him.

Yura protracted her tongue against the roof of her mouth to wipe out the lingering taste. She released a sigh and placed her spoon back onto the counter. Her hands slightly shook, making the spoon clatter as it touched the surface.

She raised her eyes back to Doujima-san.

She pushed away from the counter.

She slunk around it, gliding towards him.

The head chef creased his unique brows in confusion and then concern. He unfolded his arms and placed them by his side as he regarded her carefully. Yura sauntered towards him slowly, savouring the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his thick neck and his jaw tightened slightly. She stopped toe to toe with him, her head only reaching his chin.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked her.

"Nothing… except"

Yura placed a palm lightly on his chest.

The reaction was instantaneous.

His pectoral tensed up.

She lifted her chin and stared up into his eyes. Something violent churned in her gut and it was horribly pleasant. She peered into his eyes and found the grey in his were nothing but gaunt rings around enlarged pupils.

"Except?" he echoed back. His voice came out as strained rasps. She could hear the sleeves of his yukata shift in from the change shape of the muscles in his arms.

"Your soufflé isn't going to cut it for me"

Doujima-san sucked in a breath. Yes… that's right. Her appetite's changed. She needed something that would… completely fill her.

"Then what will?"

Yura leaned up and brushed her lips against his chin.

He startled, but didn't pull way.

Before Yura could ponder what action could stir him up next, Doujima-kun yanked her to him and covered her mouth with a hungry kiss. As their lips crashed together, Yura felt the breath rip from her lungs. She was walking over a bed of hot coals. It was raw, the way his lips connected with hers. His mouth was burning, the stroke of his lips more intense than she could've imagined and Yura opened her mouth with a low moan. They pull apart with and took shaky, shallow breaths. Yura could see the string inside him snap. Unable to contain himself anymore, Doujima-san held Yura's head in his hands and pulled her into a more fiery and passionate kiss. Her heart hammered quicker than lightning bolts. Her hands instantly worked their way up his chest, splaying her fingers against the soft fabric. She could feel his erratic heartbeat through her fingers, mirroring her own. She was on the move against and felt every crevasse, each line amongst his impressive physique. Doujima-san's hands ventured to the small of her back, exploring each indent of her spine, causing her to arch up against the solid wall of muscle, her clothed breast brushing against him. Yura slid her hands up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling herself up higher as he continued to crush her against him.

She dragged herself away with the last remnants of her control and he released her only slightly, their hot breath mingling with each other.

"Do…" she gulped "Do you think…" Yura leaned in again and nipped his lower lip, commanding his attention. She pressed her entire body against him, fitting her curves against his hard muscles, filling each gap so not a space existed between them.

"Perhaps your kitchens… may not be entirely appropriate… for me to finish my dinner?"

The beast of a man groaned and rested his forehead heavily against hers, still breathing deeply as if he ran ten marathons. His finger slid to her hips, holding her in place. His thumb rolled small circles against the sharp bone of her pelvis as she caressed the roughness of his scalp in similar circular strokes.

"Where do you suggest?"

"You're the branch manager. You tell me"

His fingers tightened against her. She could feel the rumble of his exhale in his chest. He was debating something, she could tell. Then, there was no hesitation in his voice as he spoke after a long moment.

"My kitchen is more than adequate, thank you very much"

He backed her up with three quick steps, hitched her over the counter, and pushed her down onto the cold metal surface.

Leaving the unsatisfying soufflé forgotten.

FIN

Welp! We know that ensues next :D

Yep. Keeping it barely T-rated. I was debating about whether I should make it M-rated or not, but I thought... hmmm better rate it as M just in case...

Doujima, you better clean up that kitchen real good and safety is no joke XD And Yura, honey, I hope you can walk in the morning. Oh no! Did a make a judgement on Doujima's sexual prowess? Meh. My mind is depraved.

Thank you for reading my oneshot! Let me know what you think and I hope to see you in my other Shokugeki no Souma fanfics!

Signing-off

-TripWire-dono