A/N: As always, I don't own JJR. Thank you for continuing to read and please enjoy.
Chapter Four: Preparing the Ingredients
When Mikari woke up the next morning, his head ached. Light streamed brightly in the window and he turned his head away–it hurt his eyes. Glancing over, he saw that he had slept until past noon: it seemed jet lag was taking its toll. He sighed and closed his eyes, but he knew it was no use, he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep with this light. Besides, his parents had told him that the best way to combat jet lag was to acclimatize yourself to the local time as quickly as possible. That meant he had to get up, and, groaning, he did so. He stumbled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, sucking down one of Aikawa's energy drinks. It tasted predictably vile, but it did manage to wake him up slightly, and he returned to his room and got dressed, deciding the best way to keep himself awake would be to go out. Better start getting an idea of his neighborhood. Aikawa had left him a note saying she would be back at six if she could manage to get off work on time, so he had the day to himself. A few minutes later, dressed in his favorite black pants and dark blue sweater, he stood in the lobby of Aikawa's apartment building and prepared to wander about the neighborhood.
The first place he went was the shopping district, as he knew the way from yesterday. There, he stopped at the fruit and vegetable shop and bought an apple to eat for his breakfast, then at the bakery in the supermarket, where he bought a roll to supplement the apple. After retracing his path from yesterday, now checking the shopping list on his phone against the stores to make sure he could get everything he needed (he could), he headed out towards the train station, recalling the route he had followed Aikawa home the evening before. Then he wandered aimlessly around the area near the station, doubling back a few times when he got lost. He found a nice coffee shop, a flower stand, and a little shrine that he particularly liked, taking care to locate a convenience store where he could buy any non-food essentials. Finally, he returned to the shopping district to buy food for their dinner that night and, that done, set out for home.
After stocking the fridge to his liking, he sank down on the couch, resting from his day of exploration. Then he took out his phone, deciding that now he had his menu in mind, he should get in touch with Ijuuin to set their dinner.
Ijuuin picked up almost as soon as the first ring finished.
"Hello?" he asked, "This is Ijuuin."
"Good afternoon, Ijuuin-sensei. Aikawa Mikari here, we met yesterday."
He heard a pause, then Ijuuin chuckled. Mikari could imagine vividly the look he knew would be on the older man's face: what he had come to think of as the mangaka's characteristic mixed charming-and-irritating smirk.
"The boy who came from Canada for me, yes, I remember," he replied. Mikari guessed Ijuuin probably knew perfectly well he hadn't come all the way from Canada just to meet an author he admired, but was keeping the false confession as a shared joke. He didn't mind it, so he told Ijuuin he was right.
"I hope you weren't calling to take back your promise," Ijuuin continued.
"Of course not," Mikari assured him. "Actually, I decided on a menu, so I thought we should set a date."
"A date, huh?" Ijuuin said slyly.
Mikari rolled his eyes. "Yes, a date, you know, like October 5th or January 14th," he responded dryly.
Ijuuin chuckled again, and Mikari smiled at his own joke.
"How about next Wednesday?" Ijuuin suggested.
"Sure," Mikari agreed. "Listen, I'll bring the ingredients with me, but how are you for kitchen utensils?"
Ijuuin chuckled a third time, and Mikari wondered what was so funny. The mangaka explained: "Oh, I have all the kitchen utensils. I have so many I don't know what to do with them; in fact, I don't even know how to use some of them. So many people have decided the best present for someone who writes cooking manga is kitchen supplies. I always pretend I know exactly how to use everything since that's what they expect. And I suppose I do know how to use most of the things, at least on an intellectual level. But not on a practical level."
"Well, that's good," Mikari replied. "Not your lack of cooking skill, that's disgraceful, but I suppose we all have weak points. But it's good you have everything I need."
He could practically hear Ijuuin's genuine smile at his assessment of the mangaka's skills. He supposed not many people would criticize the man to his face, he was glad to be someone on good enough terms with him to do so.
"I'll have to thank Takahashi-kun for introducing us," Ijuuin said, and Mikari felt a brief flame flicker to life inside him. Just as quick as it came, however, it was gone, and Mikari ignored it, not bothering to wonder about its meaning.
"Agreed," he said, and made a mental note to text his other new friend to thank him. "I'll see you Wednesday, then?"
"I look forward to it," Ijuuin replied, "And Aikawa-kun? I have high expectations."
"Good," Mikari shot back, sounding more confident than he felt. The two exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Setting his phone down, Mikari was suddenly drenched by a wave of anxiety. His cooking inspiration had high expectations, did he? He was pretty confident in his culinary abilities, but were they really at that level? He took a deep breath and convinced himself to calm down. He had until Wednesday, after all, and he could practice on his cousin.
For the rest of that week, and into the beginning of the next, he thought constantly about cooking. He started university that Monday, and it, too, was exciting, but he was more focused on his upcoming challenge. He made each of his dishes, concentrating carefully on their preparation, and each one was proclaimed excellent by Aikawa, who swore she had never eaten better in her life.
Finally, the morning of Wednesday came, and his nerves went into high flutter. He forced himself to pay attention in his classes: he had his literature class that day, and the professor demanded absolute devotion to the class. During his lunch Misaki gave him a good luck call–he had texted the editor to tell him the day of the dinner–and again reminded Mikari to be careful around Ijuuin. Mikari obediently promised he would, and Misaki seemed satisfied. After classes got out, he rushed to the shopping district, painstaking selecting the best to be his ingredients.
At last he was ready, and he set out, determined to do his best and prepare the finest meal he could.
