The Sun peeked over the horizon to check if any people were seriously still awake at such an unholy hour then promptly went back to sleep because it was too damn early. Meanwhile, Soma moaned and rubbed his eyes.
Why did he say yes when his father, the big devil, asked them to accompany him at the fish market? His tiny puny body needed sleep.
Or coffee. An unimaginable amount of bitter sweet juice from those beans that were actually some kind of insect repellent-.
Soma tilted his head. Where did knowledge come from? Ah, he had to thank Nakiri the next time he met her.
A toasted hand came into view and hindered his scientific pondering. Akira, the little shit, was practicing his writing with a brush as if it wasn't 3 o'clock in the morning. It was so, so neat. Suspiciously so. Had one of the foodies grannies given him calligraphy lessons? They never were as nice with him as they were with Akira. Not that he was complaining. He could catch a weird sickness from them if he stayed too long in their vicinity. Something like an urge to pester every chef he met for his or her blood and tears (aka recipes and beloved creations). He didn't want to become that cruel.
Soma hit his face against the table. Why was he thinking about the foodie Granny Gang when he could rest his eyes sneakily to regain some sleep? Something was wrong with his head alright. He closed his eyes. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep...
The table was cool against his cheek. Akira's brush scratched the paper brusquely from time to time. It wasn't grating to his ears. The scent of the worn sheets of thick paper was strangely nice. Soma edged closer and breathed in. It smelled like the old recipe books his father kept in his bedroom. It smelled like freckles, soft brown hair and gentle hands roughened up by years of cooking. It smelled like...
"Soma, wake up." Someone shook his shoulders.
Soma rubbed his eyes. The pinch behind his eyes disappeared in an instant.
Akira put his calligraphy kit away and went to the sink to wash his hands.
Soma glanced at his father's arms. He pinched his arms and looked away. No. He was a grown up, even if he was in a stupidly tiny body. He was not going to demand a hug. His gaze wandered far away, towards the window. He knew she would have laughed at his excuses and hugged the dear life out of him.
Huh. He seriously needed coffee. Now. In the next instant. Death by sleep deprivation was the only other option. What would be a nice name for that? Sleepy death? No, no, no, not inventive enough… Sleepuku. That's it, the perfect name for his pathetic death.
His head hit the table with a short-lived moan.
A plate was placed in front of him. Eggs and rice. Humm. Did he smell jasmine?
"Stop grumbling and eat." His father had the gall to slap his shoulder. He was a fragile, tired child, okay! Hitting was certainly not okay.
"Yukihira-kun, you should eat. I believe the odors in Tsukiji will make you unable to eat any snacks." A gentle hand patted his hair.
"Shut it, Isshiki." Came Soma's sullen answer.
"As you wish."
Blessed silence filled his ears. Akira was silently munching on stuff. His dad was making tired dad's jokes (which meant they were worse than usual. Ugh.). He would not be forgiven. Not at 3 o'clock in the morning, an interesting hour Soma was supposed to fill with sleep. Isshiki was filling his nails like the big sissy he was.
His nails looked good though. All shiny and stuff.
"Isshiki?"
The eldest boy smiled charmingly. "It is I."
Soma made an effort to sit straight. He squinted at the intruder. "What are you doing here?"
Isshiki's small tilt of his lips almost blinded Soma. It had everything to do with the first rays of sunlight coming from behind the older boy and not at all to do with natural charm and wahtnot, Soma mused. "Yukihira-san invited me. I never went to the normal part of Tsukiji."
Soma decided not to act like a drama queen. Clutching his heart and demanding why nobody had told him such important information asked too much movements and energy. Energy was precious. His precious….
The Nemo-colored boy only blinked dumbly and glued his attention on less demanding things. "There are special parts?"
Isshiki's eyes twinkled and that was not normal. 3 o'clock magic, maybe? "Why, indeed. The premium cuts are not sold on the same stage."
Soma snorted. Of course. "Places for rich people and shady stuff, then."
Isshiki hummed thoughtfully. "It's a way to put it."
His friend then had the charity (and was he not a saint?) to give him a cup filled with a mysterious elixir that boosted his HP and energy level. In other words, his friend made him a cuppa of some delish hot cocoa. Cinnamon, brown sugar, golden sugar, premium choco… His young body's taste buds were weak against such a fabulous thing.
An uncomfortable amount of time was passed in tired silence inside a worn out car, then they found themselves in a maze made of fishes and other inhabitants of the sea.
The scent of the sea hit Soma's nose with the strength of a rogue wave. He breathed through his teeth. He loved the sea. He loved seafood. He was Japanese. He would overcome this ordeal.
Alas, Soma was weak. He pinched his nose. Gazes instantly found him and judged him for that act. Soma straightened his back and looked back. He was going to pinch his nose as much as he wanted and nobody was going to stop him. So what if he was weak? He was a proud bearer of the title 'my-nose-is-incredibly-weak-against-strong-sea-smells'.
In the background, Dad Yukihira chocked on his stifled laugh.
Soma ignored him, though a muscle over his left eye did twitch. A bit. Just a bit.
Soma sneakily left his group and gamboled through the maze, searching for the freshest, fattest tuna. His father was keeping half an eye on Akira and Isshiki and the rest on the fishes.
A black shadow was stalking them, hiding behind stands.
"Mom, look at that fish! It's perfect!"
That shout alerted every buyers in the area, plus Soma. They turned their eyes towards the boy who had shouted in sync to see the fish he was talking about. Their hands twitched. Yes, that fish was perfect… They eyed each other dangerously. Who would get it first?
Soma eyed the boy carnivorously.
"A good fish it is." The mother of the boy complimented softly. Her own eyes were roaming the stalls calmly. Her gaze studied each fish, cut them open and decided of their freshness and deliciousness. Next, the vendors were put under her sharp observation. Some, she found satisfactory. Others, not so much.
"Mom, Mom, Mom! This one's even better!"
"Yes, darling."
"Mom! This crayfish looks yummy!"
"Indeed, dear."
Buyers started to stalk the duo, creepily observing their every movement, hungrily watching as they discovered better fish after better fish.
Soma was doing the same, except he was not a creepy old stalker. He was a very young one. He let go of his nose. The air didn't smell that fishy there.
"Look at that Tuna, Mom! It's looking super duper delish."
Somei-senpai was so hyperactive. Soma hadn't imagined his younger self like that. He had thought the future samurai had always been strict and stern and all about honor. That image was crumpling really fast.
"A good one too." Somei's mother hummed.
"Mom-" Somei didn't finish his sentence. Soma used the infamous move every B-rated teen movie exploited: "whack-the-protag-to-make-a-good-first-meeting". It was super effective. Somei fell to the ground with a shriek.
Soma snorted. The future samurai's voice was light years higher than any girls Soma had met in his life.
Somei jumped to his feet a second later, pointing his assailant bravely as he fought off the tears that welled up in his eyes. Nope, definitely not the tough ass guy of the future. Did aliens kidnap him or something?
"Oh, so sorry! I didn't see you there." Soma put on his best 'I'm-not-a-liar-or-a-pro-swindler,-I-promise!' smile. It was very effective, as usual.
Somei blinked back tears and glanced at his mother with the stealth of an elephant. She nodded. "Sorry, I didn't see you either." He offered weakly.
They then tried to leave him at that after a series of platitudes and bows. Soma was not going to let any young promising chef stray out of his grasp, though.
"Are you a sushi chef?" He asked, eyes big and innocent. He pointedly looked at the fishes they had bought.
"Yes, she is! The best one in all of-" Mother Somei cowered Young Somei's mouth before he could enter full fanboy mode. She nodded, appraising Soma with new eyes.
Soma smiled and answered her silent questions. "My father is a chef himself, though sushis aren't his specialty." As if his old man had one. They, the Yukihira, were jacks of all trade, master of all.
A conversation thus started, a bit warmer than previously. They chatted about food and the very best knives, made by a blacksmith who lived in isolation in the mountains, while they browsed the stalls.
Finally, Somei's mother checked her watch.
"Saito, I'm going to look around a bit more. Can you stay with your new friend a moment?" She gestured towards the lift and Soma had the sudden suspicion she was going to the shady place Isshiki had talked about. She turned herself towards Soma. "If this doesn't inconvenience you, of course."
Soma would have kissed her if she hadn't been so tall. He settled on rubbing evilly his hands together. "No, it doesn't."
She left with a wave.
The boys stayed silent an instant. Somei was looking around, still not really interested in Soma.
"Soooo. Is the food your mom make yummy?" Soma asked, purely out of boredom and not at all to bait his young sushi friend.
"The yummiest." Somei answered seriously.
Soma blinked. That was eloquent. "Ah."
"My mom is the coolest chef ever."
"Oh." Okay.
"She can make anything with scraps. She can do anything. Ask, and it appears on your plate."
A complete fanboy young Somei was, thought the Gamer's sidekick.
"The way she cuts fish is just soooooo damn cool." Somei slapped his mouth shut, mortified. He nervously glanced around. After several rounds around the area, his gaze stopped wandering and fixed itself on Soma. "Don't tell her I said that word."
"What word?" Soma pinched his lips to fight down a smile.
Somei's eyes darted around. He leaned close to the other boy and breathed out. "…damn."
Oh, that was gold.
Soma tried to keep the laughter in as he nodded as gravely as he could.
Somei smiled and suddenly they were closer. He was murmuring wildly about his mother in Soma's ears and how utterly awesome her every breath was.
The son of the Asura discreetly used the Game's photo app. It would make for good souvenirs and even better blackmail. One day, Somei-senpai would be all solemn and 'bushido-is-the-only-way'. That day, Soma would remind him of the moments were he did nothing but fanboy on his mother. In the distant future, he was so going to get the best fish recipes from his victim.
Somei stopped breathing and as such finally stopped gushing about his amazing beyond words mother. He squinted at the stalls around him and scanned one fish in particular. Then he jumped on it.
He raised his boon high in the air, as if he had searched low and far for it and not just stolen it from the hands of a seller. "This is the one!"
The seller barked a good-natured laugh out while he sneakily tried to rip the fish from the child's hands. "You've got good eyes, lad. My fish is fresher than a babe just outta the womb."
His colleague, a stall farther the aisle, snorted. "A mummified baby, maybe."
The first seller cut down the head of a fish rather harshly with a pretty big and large knife. "What did ya say?"
A murmur ran through the market. Sellers readied their weapons. Buyers kept their head low as they tugged their smelly purchases in their coat and walked faster. They all repeated silently the known and loved mantra of the innocent bystanders that all too often ended as collateral damage: if you don't look at 'em crazy, they won't attack you.
The seller who started it all cocked an eyebrow. "I said your fish is as fresh as a mummified baby found in a damn desert."
Somei covered his ears in horror when he heard the bad word slip from the vendor's mouth. He let go of his fish. Soma worldlessly tugged him away from the future no man's land.
Another seller raised an octopus high in the air. An anxious buyer immediately screamed and tried to dive under a stall, only to fall on his face. Everybody ignored his pathetic whimper. "FISH FIGHT!"
"…we need reinforcement if we want to get that fish." Soma observed the mayhem from a high position (a mysterious mountain of boxes that towered over the immense market.). Somei was attached to his hips, covering his eyes with one hand. Weirdly enough, his hand was opened so he could see everything. A very sneaky samurai, he was not.
"How nice to see you again Yukihira-kun."
Soma did not almost slip off the mountain in his fright. He did not. That was a hallucination. "Isshiki, dude, don't do that."
"I suppose we your reinforcement?" A wild Akira appeared on the mountain. He made a military salute before he jumped and caught a neon light. He somehow found a way to sit on it.
Soma snorted. Isshiki and Akira were good, but were they that good to be called reinforcement? No, no, no. He pointed at the fighting commoners at their feet. "No. The cavalry is already here."
Isshiki squinted.
Soma put his samurai down on a nice spot of the mountain, stable, nice view, nice air. Then he jumped down with a mighty scream. And somehow did not break his legs. Life was good.
"Oh my, isn't it Soma-chan." A voice called him laughingly.
He got up with a smirk. That was the cavalry. "Hello, Madam." He put on his best 'I'm-being-respectful-here' face. He even straightened his back.
The President of the foodie Gang looked all too gentle and kind thanks to the battle to the death behind her. Soma knew better than to trust that appearance. "Buying fish with your father, I suppose." She said lightly.
"Yes, Madam."
Her eyes strayed from him for a second. "And who might you be?"
"Isshiki Satoshi, Madam. Delighted to meet you." He bowed deeply, that boot-licker. Akira had somehow found his way to his shoulders, sitting there as if he was on a comfy throne and defying gravity by not falling down.
Isshiki smiled charmingly at the President of the Granny Gang. Soma pouted in the background. Akira had balance that was clearly out of this world. Not fair.
The President smiled and patted her blushing cheeks. "What a charmer you are, Satoshi-kun."
Somei decide to appear at that moment, jumping from the mountain while screaming in falsetto. Akira offered him his hands with a stern face. "Lost child, are you okay? Did Soma do anything bad?"
Soma royally ignored that comment. Somei kind of made a 'huh?' face and that was the end of it. Akira hugged him with a knowing face. "Don't worry, my friend is not that bad inside."
Soma continued to ignore passing comments about his virtue with all his might while Isshiki and Madam sneakered behind manicured hands. He was not that evil, damn it. He did not defile children's innocence for a living!
"Where is your father, Soma-kun?" Madam finally asked the question the boy was waiting for. He perked up.
"Dad is in there." He eloquently pointed at the big dusty white cloud that hovered behind them. Screams for blood and yelps for help echoed inside it. Fishes' heads and intestines occasionally were ejected from it.
That was not quite the truth. Really, he didn't really know where his father was. Maybe he was in the shaddy place for rich people, maybe kissing an octopus, God only knew. Soma still lied with a winner smile.
"Hmm." She eyed the fish brawl but made no movements.
Was the cavalry reticent to move? That wasn't good news. Soma fished for thoughts and carrots he could offer her. 'I found a really good fish and I'm gonna use you to get it' only sounded good to his shameless ears, after all.
"Madam, may you help us find him please?" Isshiki fawned shamelessly.
The old lady smiled good-naturally. "Of course, dear." She laughed behind her hand. "Knowing him, he is not going to come back with anything remotely good. What do you need?"
Somei raised his hand. "I let go of my fish. It's big and red and really, really beautiful."
The old Madam cooed at him. "I'll get it for you, darling."
Akira raised his hand. "The two best tuna you can find."
"Of course." She waved. One second later, she disappeared in the cloud of pent-up violence of fish sellers. The dust didn't dare to even mess with her clothes. It parted to let her pass through.
The boys admired the heroic sight in pious silence.
Isshiki turned around gravely. He patted Akira's shoulder. "You see where good manners can lead you, Akira-kun? Don't be a savage like Yukihira-kun."
Soma rolled his eyes in the background while Isshiki was in noble-ish mode. He flicked his tongue out at Akira with a wink. A moldy fish smacked him in the mouth.
The young boys giggled at the savage. "See. Listen to me and you'll not end like this poor boy, with a rotten and certainly poisonous fish in the mouth."
A fish smacked the back of Isshiki's head.
Soma got his revenge. He gave a thumbs-up to the fellow who did it, whoever he was.
A black shadow bit his nails, hidden behind a pile of dead seafood. He had meant to hit the savage a second time, not his young's master precious hair. He was the worst. His hands were the worthless piece of, of hands on earth! He should just cut them. He slapped his hands a couple times each.
Back to Soma, the boy was trying to wash away the awful taste of moldy fish by gurgling water and having sweet, sweet thoughts.
He was going to send his cherished senpai a new photo a bit earlier than usual. The stuck-up dude had not answered him yet, but he would sooner or later. Soma was patient. And at worse, he would just stalk him to the end of the world to show him the joy of cooking in hell.
Now, which photo would he send to his dear senpai to remind him that cooking was a fun and sometimes a puke-inducing thing?
Somei-senpai was way too out of character to be shown. His cuteness would lure the Frenchie out: the frog would mumble about showing the poor fish-addict the real way of cooking or something equally wretched.
Isshiki was too naked.
Akira was too cute.
His dad was his dad. Old and not nice to look at. Especially when he was boasting about besting his eight years old son yet again in a cooking match. The big ass.
He went through the rest of his album without finding anything satisfactory.
His finger hovered over the last picture he had taken. It was kind of blurry, but it was badass. With a grin, he selected it and sent it. Dark chuckles escaped his chest.
Tsukasa wouldn't understand right away. That was fine. Soma did for the both of them.
His picture showed Madam's badass back as she went into the radioactive mushroom of death for delicious fishes (and maybe his dad).
The Gamer had a stupid video game, but Soma had the Cheat. The president of the Granny Gang was not a force one could thoughtlessly dare to play with.
With his cheat, Soma felt his journey might be a tranquil sailing (as long as she didn't decide to kick his ass because he didn't make her enough cookies). He would manage to make enough cookies.
Or he could enslave some other cooks to keep her foodie craving in check.
I'm back from summer. Working is tough but fun. My writer's block officially left for the Bahamas. Schedule for the story on my profile. By the way, I started another story. It isn't as funny as this one (for now), but it isn't bad either. It's called 'Dreams of Red'.
-Reviews make a author happy, somewhere in the snow.
Who did Soma remember when he smelled Akira's papers...?
The Secret Food Stash Y'all Need
Tuna
Is red. Is good in salads and for poor student's budget. Yummy in tummy. Can be pretty big.
Crayfish
Freshwater crustaceans resembling small lobsters. Can be red.
