Title: Peerless
Author: sllebswap
Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou and Tsukasa Eishi
Type: OneShot/Drabble Collection (InComplete)
Genre: Romance/General/Humor
Word Count: 2618
Rating: T (Contains content not suitable for children)
Disclaimer: Shokugeki no Souma belongs to Tsukuda-san.
Summary: To be peerless is to be unrivalled. Standing at the highest peak, unchallenged and without equal. To be peerless is to endure; the pressure of the world clamoring at your feet, the stark bite of loneliness clawing at your back. …Or is it always?
Loosely interconnected one-shots/drabbles exploring the curious relationship between Tsukasa Eishi and Kobayashi Rindou. Updates may not be in chronological order.
Verse: Canon Divergent AU
Chapter Last Revised on: 25/05/17
Dream a little dream
It was business as usual in the office as Eishi went about determinedly trying to make a dent in the towering stacks of paperwork that constantly surrounded him in an utterly menacing manner. This time of the year, it was getting so bad that even in sleep, he had nightmares of being relentlessly pursued by his endless responsibilities through fields of anthropomorphic ingredients asking him to cook them deliciously, and ludicrous as the scenario was, it was nowhere near as amusing when he happened to be trapped in those alarming sleep visions. He was twitchier than usual, almost bone white from stress, but he dared not stop, all the same.
He had long since given up on trying to conquer this battle of attrition, well aware that there was no way that a decisive victory would ever happen, not with how the current system of Tootsuki worked. Where just about every important aspect of decision making for the world class culinary academy had to go through the authorized channel of the Elite Ten first before anything could be done. Where just about everything that his fellow Elites had worked on had to be further approved and officially processed by him before the motions could be passed. The amount of administrative work he had to plow through day in and day out was staggering – and it was a miracle that he had any time left to develop his cooking, or even keep up with his course work. Nobody had told him about this entirely demanding set of obligations that came contractually with being in the position of power at the top of the Tootsuki food chain; if he had known back in middle school that this was what being First Seat entailed, he might have had given a more careful second thought about his future aspiration before fully committing to it.
…Oh, but who was he kidding.
For the sake of scaling new heights in his cooking, for the privilege of exploring new frontiers in the wide and endless expanse of the culinary world, for the right to access unlimited resources; the rarest ingredients, priceless, invaluable tomes and knowledge at his fingertips, he would dig in and he would endure. Even if he had to suffer constant insomnia, even if there were always endless problems waiting for him to solve, often causing him no end of anxiety and grief, even if he had to sell his soul to the devil, he would do whatever it took. It is extreme heat and pressure that turn coals into diamonds, and he is determined not to break, at least not until he had succeeded in what he had set out to fulfill, this White Knight on his Holy Crusade.
Now, all that was left to do was survive. Survive until the end of the year, where graduation was finally in sight and he could pass on the baton of his supposedly exalted position as well as all of its many endless burdens to an unwitting successor. At last, he would finally be free to pursue his goals in earnest, with all the connections and necessary frameworks that he had sacrificed the bulk of his high school life for set in place, ready to support his future endeavors. He could hang on until then. It would not be too long now.
Rindou rolled onto her stomach on the couch and stretched out, stocking-ed feet kicking idly behind her, attention lazily split between her beleaguered colleague and the television before her, volume muted, playing some nature documentary about nesting groups of emperor penguins in the South Pole. It was a program that she had already watched before sometime past, and so she ended up idly studying Tsukasa for a while too, as he mumbled under his breath and tried to keep ahead of his inbox. So long as the rate of his 'out' pile was filling up marginally faster than his 'in' pile, he would consider his day a good one.
It was really boring to watch him stuck in the same position, hunched over his desk like an overworked salary man, expression blank, doing the same thing with routine, mundane repetition, even a few hours later. His pale white hair was sticking out every which way from all the times he had ran his fingers through them in frustration, he was a bit wild eyed, scowling, uniform rumpled, loosened tie flapping every which way – he looked more like a madman than a noble knight of the realm at this point. Rindou wondered what his ardent fans would say if they could just see him now…
He definitely was a lot more fun and interactive to watch over a prep counter and a stove, that was for sure. Wayyyyy cooler, too.
"Ey, Tsukasa, I've been tryin' to figure out something," she drawled, still brazenly lounging about like a bored feline, breaking her quiet streak for the first time since she wandered into his office that afternoon.
He did not even take his eyes off of the document that he was currently, diligently perusing, trying to get as much done as he could before he sputtered out of energy. A vein throbbed in his temple.
"Good for you. But can you figure it out quietly over there – I'm kind of busy with something right now."
"I mean, it's you. I don't understand at all," she continued to speak airily over his mutterings, her slit-pupiled eyes still intently studying him. "You're kind of a weird one, the more I think 'bout ya…"
Her words could be mistakenly construed, the way she spoke as if he took up a lot of space in her mind. His reading slowed, and his brow knitted. He would really prefer not to be drawn into conversation right now, but could one ever successfully ignore a cat? At best, an effort most futile. At worst, an effort resulting in destructive consequences, and also futile.
"The only weird thing around here is how I appear to be the only one in the entire Elite Ten actually doing my work right now," he uttered absently, picking up his pen and briskly putting down his signatures on one form (plus three duplicates) before setting the completed file in his outbox and reaching for a new document.
"No, dummy. It's your tie, your tie!" she insisted, sitting up on the couch and crossing her legs in a lotus position on the cushion. She propped her chin on the flat of her palm, her body angled in his direction in order to facilitate conversation. "See; people either wear their ties properly or not at all. What's with you and the half ass way that you always wear yours?" Case in point, she gestured to him, where sure enough, the loop of his red and violet blue striped school tie was loosely hanging around his unbuttoned collar, and the tongue of the fabric was carelessly tossed over one shoulder. She squinted at him.
"Ya know, ya kinda look like one of those overworked office worker-ojisan who hits up izakayas to drink all night and then pass out in trains."
He twitched, and stopped trying to struggle through that pounding migraine plaguing him in favor of trying to understand the proposal laid out on his desk. His eyes were burning. His head was throbbing, and he was utterly miserable, which explain his heightened level of snarkiness at the moment.
"Really? That explains why I'm feeling a certain level of commiseration and sympathy towards those individuals." His energy level decided to plummet and bottom out completely then, and with a groan, he faceplanted onto his desk. "Passing out sounds like heaven right now," he mumbled, his expression looking rather pallid with exhaustion.
She tipped her head to the side and studied him for a moment, her golden gaze glimmering with something that looked suspiciously like humor. At last, she spoke. "…Tsukasa, c'mere."
He slowly swiveled his head to look at her, his pale lavender gaze tinged with faint suspicion. "Why? What for?"
She grinned innocuously and simply beckoned with her free hand for him to come hither. He narrowed his eyes at her, as if trying to figure out what she was up to this time. "Just get your butt over here, will ya? I'm trying to help, promise~"
He was naturally still filled with some doubts, but then again, it wasn't as if she could do anything much worse to him that he wasn't already experiencing right now. The First Seat hauled himself out of his chair and plodded over to her, and the moment he was within reach, she stretched out, grabbed him by his arm, and pulled him down beside her on the couch. She scooted further down to the end of the furniture and coaxed him to follow her directions.
"Lie down here."
"What-"
She wasn't taking 'no' for an answer, nor was she patient enough to wait for him to decipher her intention. He was shoved down on his back by a firm, no-nonsense grip on his shoulders, and briefly disoriented, it took him a beat or two to figure out that she was pillowing his head with her thighs, and the rest of him was stretched out along the settee. Too tired to even protest or struggle, he just looked straight up into her glowing cat eyes.
"…Is this even a good idea," he deadpanned.
She shushed him. "Don't knock it until you've tried it, Tsukasa! You're lucky I'm extending this exclusive privilege to ya just for today; Rindou-sama gives amazing massages! Now, shut your eyes and pretend that you're somewhere else!"
"…Must I, really?"
She hissed at him in a mock threatening way, and he gave in resignedly. Dutifully obeying her bossy demands, he closed his eyes and demonstrated a surprising amount of trust in her. Or maybe he was just completely wrung out and had no more energy to care too much anymore.
Her slim hands, feminine but filled with vibrant strength, stroked his hair, slender fingers carefully combing through those disheveled, moonshine white strands, her touch surprisingly mellow. And…enjoyable. Her blunt nails, trimmed short for hygiene just like the rest of them who often had to handle food, scraped lightly against his scalp, the pads of her fingers gently digging into his crown, then gradually sliding forwards and massaging his aching temples in tiny, fluid circles. Unconsciously, he started to relax. It actually felt…really good.
She also used the heel of her palms, and then her knuckles as well to apply a gentle pressure against the back of his skull, cradling, slowly working her way up, and then once more down again to his nape. Dexterous, agile digits rubbed the back of his neck, firmly kneading along the strained group of tightly bunched muscles, gradually releasing the soreness and the stiffness trapped there. A deep, appreciative sigh slipped from him, painful tension bleeding from between his shoulder blades, bit by bit. She smirked faintly at his telling response.
"Good, right? Right? Rindou-sama learned this skill from all the times she was mixing spices into minced meat. You're the first human Rindou-sama is practicing on, but you're welcome~"
"…Please stop talking," he mumbled, growing drowsier by the minute. A lazy, content pleasure was slowly unfurling within him, dulling the intensity of that vicious headache from earlier and negating its throbbing effects. He was going completely limp. She had always seemed so rough and tumble; he would never have thought that she was capable of such gentleness…or that she would be willing to demonstrate it to him, in ways other than in her cooking.
Amused by how he seemed to be momentarily catatonic under her tender ministrations, she started to hum softly instead; some off-keyed tune that sounded vaguely familiar...like he had heard it from somewhere before…
…It was quite pleasant. The air in his office was quiet for a while, companionable. Peaceful.
Just when she was starting to think that he might have drifted off, he spoke, eyes still shut, blissfully lost in the magic of her warm, supple hands.
"…It's because sometimes I need to look presentable."
"Hmm?"
"…My tie. It's because I need to look presentable for when I'm forced to go up to address the student body during assembly, or make a public announcement, or even attend a faculty meeting. All the formal events that require a proper showing, really."
Her eyes lit up in realization – he was answering her question from before.
"Huh, I knew all that already. Though you didn't actually have to keep wearing the tie when you don't need it, right?"
"No, I do," he insisted, voice drifting, as if he was fighting slumber.
"Why?"
"They go missing if I don't. Lost quite a few that way already…"
She snorted softly, tickled by his reasoning.
"What; so the safest place to keep your tie is around your neck, is that it?"
"…I hate ties. They flop into my soups, get stuck in my pasta machine, get everywhere…"
She snickered some more at his sleepy, disgruntled mumble, but then he fell silent again, already dozing off. She continued to pet his hair softly even as his breathing evened out, quietly carding her fingers through the silken locks, her attention lingering on the television, still mutely playing that documentary. Her rich voice was pitched low and filled with wondering amusement when she murmured.
"Ne, Tsukasa. D'ya know that there are some cultures in this world that eat penguin eggs? I wonder what they taste like. Prepare some for me to try one day, okay?"
He came to an hour or so later to find himself alone in the office. He was still lying on the couch, but Rindou had long gone. The room was quiet, the television and lights switched off, and only the gentle, near imperceptible hum of the AC could be heard. Outside, the hues of the afternoon skies were gradually darkening to the colors of dusk. He stirred, and found his vision partially obscured by a blurry something. Reaching up, he plucked off the bright orange Post-It note that had been unceremoniously stuck on his forehead, and the familiar, feminine scrawl on the small piece of sticky paper made him shake his head in faint amusement.
You owe me now~ :)
He slowly sat up, and the jacket that had been thrown over his torso slipped down onto his lap with a soft rustle. That short nap, combined with whatever it was that Rindou had done to relax his nerves beforehand, had worked wonders. He felt more alert now, and refreshed. That blinding headache from earlier was but practically a faint, unpleasant memory. He speared a hand through his tousled hair, looking around absently as he grew more lucid. The pale haired First Seat noticed the other school blazer then, neatly folded into a padded square and that which had served as his headrest in Rindou's place, and upon closer inspection, he realized that it was his own…which meant that the one that currently covered him was likely hers.
It was.
And when he picked it up curiously, the very faint, very mild fragrance of her shampoo tickled his nose. Strawberries.
Eishi hurriedly set the jacket aside, feeling vaguely self-conscious for even briefly entertaining the reflexive thought that she smelled nice. He slowly stood up, lean, wiry form unfolding from the settee with casual grace, stretching out fully as the very last remnants of sleep finally fell away from his senses. Lavender eyes sharpened with keen awareness, and he turned back to his desk, ready to resume the battle against his paperwork once more.
Alright, then.
Naptime's over. Time to get back to work.
::owari::
Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:
This drabble came up when I was pondering Eishi and his tie, as well as that strange way he wears his uniform.
Why even bother putting on a tie if you're going to wear it in a permanently half assed way? He could have just done away with it altogether since Tootsuki isn't even that strict on uniform regulation in the first place. And then there is that quirk of his where he always automatically flips his tie over one shoulder. The only logical explanation I can deduce from that kneejerk reaction is that he's likely so used to the damned thing getting in his way all the time that he immediately gets it out of his way the first thing he does…which once again circles back to my first question of why he even bothers wearing a tie in the first place if it bothers him so much…
So weird!
Anyway, long story short, this installment is more or less my take/headcanon on Eishi's love/hate relationship with his school tie, haha. Do feel free to share your thoughts and theories with me!
xXxXxXxXxX
I like writing normal day-to-day/slice-of-life EiRin moments, and in this one, they are obviously third years, and while they are not together-together yet, some things are slowly maybe starting to fall into place, bit by bit. I quite enjoy exploring the many little, tiny discoveries of growing awareness slowly towing the characters towards that eventual moment of inevitability, haha. But don't worry, the good parts will be coming along soon enough also!
I think you guys will like the next chapter, which should be coming up shortly! Now, please feed the hungry me with your comments and make my day with all the shippy EiRin feels! :)
Happy midweek, and thanks for reading and supporting, as always!
xXxXxXxXxX
Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!
-sllebswap
