A lone owl hooted.
As Souma and Megumi trailed behind Azami, Megumi stared out from the open hallway to the rock garden outside. Blurry and faintly menacing shadows crouched in the darkness, revealed to be plain, white rocks whenever a stray light happened upon them. Other than the occasional creak of the floorboards and a murmur of a maid, the household was quiet. Door after closed, paper sliding door passed by. It was an evident nod to traditional Japanese architecture.
Even though it looks like home… it's too quiet. Too big. Too… empty, Megumi thought.
"This is in fact the wing where the Arato family resides. Or should I say, used to reside." Azami laughed without turning around. Souma narrowed his eyes, his lips a thin line. "How very fitting. Although perhaps that is what led to Hisako and her family's downfall… " the man mused.
Downfall? But before Megumi could mull on the thought further, Azami abruptly stopped. The two students stopped as well, giving him a wide berth. Azami finally glanced at them before smiling blandly. "Now now, there's nothing to fear- am I not just an educator? Just a caring and invested Director?"
Souma couldn't hold back his words. "What are you playing at?" he growled.
"Oh you'll see."
Click.
Megumi blinked in surprise as Azami slipped a key into the paper. No wait. She squinted and then could make out the faint outline of a modern, completely camouflaged door. Azami pushed and it swung open soundlessly. He stepped in, and they warily followed.
Azami flicked on the light and Megumi was temporarily blinded. As she painfully blinked away the bright spots, she had to remember where she was again.
Before her was the starkest room she had ever stood in in her entire life. Or rather, kitchen.
Or, rather…
A prison.
Megumi stared at the blank, polished kitchenette before her. Everything was scrubbed so meticulously clean, it all appeared practically brand-new. A stove, a giant refrigerator, and on the racks were countless pans, pots, strainers, whisks, spatulas, measuring cups, mixers, blenders… The list went on and on. Everything either flat white or stainless steel, all glinting the harsh light. There were no windows, no decoration, no other shade of color other than white and gray shadows on white. Megumi shivered as the silhouettes of the tongs and giant forks appeared on the wall like multitudes of little, hungry hands.
"This is it, although it has been a while since I've visited. My prized salle de classe." Azami swept his arms around, proudly, before sitting down in a plain, white chair placed outside the kitchen. He crossed his spindly legs, and the lack of table made it clear what he was: a spectator.
"What… what is this," Souma mutttered, his voice thick with disgust. He glanced around, turning again and again. "There's not even an oil stain from frying on these walls. There's, it's… it's just… " He struggled to speak.
"Nothing," Megumi breathed.
"Oh yes. Minimalism. The artform of Zen Buddhism, a rapture unbeknownst to the common man. For is it not perfection? This nothingness, this absolute nothingness." Azami's eyes stared beyond the room. A bloodless smile graced his lips. "Nothingness. To feel nothing is to be God."
Azami sighed contentedly before he slid his gaze back to the two students. "Feel gracious that you have been allowed into this sanctuary. Other than Erina, no one has ever come in here."
Megumi looked at the shiny sink. She let her hand rest lightly on the ledge.
'Megumi. Do you want to watch?' Her mother gave a warm smile down as she had tugged her mother's apron. She was on her tiptoes, trying to see just what her mother was doing at the countertop.
'Come stand on that step stool so you can see.' Megumi gave a tiny nod and climbed up. Her eyes widened as her mother expertly cleaved cherry blossom flowers from carrot slices, nicked sausages into curled octopuses, and patted down a little mound of fried rice. Megumi stared at the kids meal before looking up at her mother, who was just beginning to wash the cutting board in the sink.
'Can I… can I do that too?'
Her mother laughed and set down her board. She leaned over and gently kissed the top of her daughter's head.
'I'm sure you can do whatever you would like, Megumi.'
"You kept… a child, here? Alone?" Megumi mumbled as Azami continued.
"You could not imagine the struggle I had with that unruly mess of a child, Yukihira-kun." Azami shook his head slowly. "The amount of times she failed, over and over again? Disgraceful. She couldn't even do a bechamel for a full week! Could you beli-"
Souma spun around so fast, even Azami stopped. "What. Do. You. Want," he seethed, mincing his words. "I won't ask again, Azami."
Azami drew back. He managed a pleasant, if not slightly strained smile. "And I won't hesitate to remind you, Yukihira-kun, what's under stake here. And who holds the cards."
Souma snarled and stepped forward. "You-"
"Souma-kun!" Megumi yanked his arm back, barely managing to keep the struggling boy back. "We have to make sure Erina-san and Hisako-san get back safely; otherwise, what would have been the point?!" she whispered urgently. He didn't look at her eyes but she felt him relax just a cinch. Azami gave another flat smile as he stood back up on his feet.
"Yet, you are right, Yukihira-kun. As I had said before, this is all just talk. We are the elite who may speak through art, through cuisine, are we not?"
"So shall we place a bet, Yukihira-kun? Much like with your much-beloved Shokugeki. And you know what I want, Yukihira-kun. Or should I say… my future son-in-law?" Azami's polite smile finally gave a way to a fully curled-lip smirk.
Megumi felt her mind go blank as Souma's expression darkened. Her skull felt close to exploding as she realized the true meaning of all this. There's no way he could have planned this all out…
Souma opened his mouth but he could hardly whisper a word. He instead jerked his head in a nod.
"A verbal response would be… courteous," Azami snickered when his smile froze.
"... What are you doing. Get out of my sight; only Yukihira is of concern to me," the dark-haired man growled as Megumi stepped in front of Souma. Souma stared at her. He took a sharp intake of air at her trembling shoulders.
"No. No, your bet… your bet is with me."
"Tadoroki, what… ?" Souma croaked. Megumi swallowed, even as a voice inside screamed. What are you doing?! You're not even good at cooking like Souma-kun or Erina-san or, or, anyone, much less the Headmaster! What do you think you're doing?! Step back, let people who are better do this, go back to where you belong, you're not meant to be center-stage you're just a sidelines cheerleader not a fighter, you're too weak-
"With… you," Azami said, as though carefully tasting the words. He grimaced. "Please stop being so desperate for attention, it is so embarrassing to watch-"
"How bold of you to say that, Headmaster." Megumi flipped her hair casually and jutted out her chin. Souma realized with a jolt where he had seen that hair flick, that haughty glance. Even Azami blinked at the sudden bluster. He narrowed his eyes.
"You have nothing of value to me," he said confidently, although a flash in his eyes betrayed a hint of uncertainty.
"Oh but I do." Please work, please. Megumi flipped out a photo from her pocket. "I'm assuming this is not something you would want your… benefactors to know of."
It was one of those fashionably black-and-white photos, taken on an expensive toy camera. But the fuzzy image depicted was certainly not one for a child. Megumi shivered as she saw the identical stove, the identical refrigerator, the identical kitchen equipment in the photo right before her eyes. But in the center was a scene that made her thank every star in the sky for her kind family, for her warm house, and for her happy days mimicking her mother in the kitchen.
"Ah." Azami blinked, his face immobile as his eyes lit up.
The unmistakable towering figure of Azami stooped over a tiny girl with flowing locks, clearly writhing in pain and giving soundless shrieks as huge adult hands crushed her slender fingers into a frying pain. The stove fire was spitting below it.
Megumi fought down the nausea rising up as she glanced at the photo again. "This… is very obvious child abuse. So much so that not even the Nakiri family, and therefore Tootsuki too, would be able to escape harsh publicity and criticism if the media came to know of it."
"... And?"
Megumi started. She slowly raised her face to look at Azami. He had on his polite smile, although it didn't bother to hide a nasty flatness.
"What… what do you mean by 'and'?" Souma managed to reply roughly.
Azami chuckled and he drew his hand into his pocket. With a flourish, he let the object flutter out.
"Why do you think I had planned to eject the whole Arato family? Of course I knew about that stupid girl's photo, although I admit it took me until very recently to find it. Nakiri maids are very loyal though, and one who was cleaning out that girl's room brought the photo to my attention immediately."
Megumi stared at the identical photo on the ground. She felt the ace in her hand slowly crumble to dust.
"But to try and catch me legally… it seems I underestimated you, Tadokoro Megumi." Megumi felt goosebumps shudder up her arms as Azami, for the first time, turned to look directly at her. His lightless eyes suddenly seemed larger than his face, his whole body even, and Megumi couldn't help shaking from the sudden disturbing thought that Azami had no body, that he was just almond-shaped eyes, a monster whose mouth emerged, salivating, from a huge blinking iris that would swallow and gulp down whole and burn little girls' hands and grin as fat sizzled-
Megumi nearly yelped when a hand thumped down on her shoulder.
"Tadokoro. This isn't the time to sleep on your feet ya know," Souma whispered with a grin, albeit with a strained voice. Megumi managed to gasp in a few breaths and let out a shaky sigh. She managed to crack a frayed smile.
Azami watched with a disgusted look. "Hmm, I wasn't thinking of this at first but… perhaps it'll be more interesting. After all, I cannot allow attention to be divided from my daughter by some nobody."
Souma and Megumi turned to face Azami. "We'll take on anything you throw at us and win. We're taking Nakiri back," Souma declared, his voice ringing in the small room.
"Oh yes yes, I'm sure," Azami replied soothingly. "But the stakes simply aren't high enough, aren't they? True bets are when the possibility of loss is enough to paralyze." He gave an unpleasant laugh.
"Trading Hisako and Erina's… what, 'release'? By your win is no good. No good at all." Azami clicked his tongue."No no… if I win, of course you will both be expelled and blacklisted from any food industry. But more than that… "
"I want your family restaurants. Or rather, the closing of such meaningless endeavors."
Souma stared at Azami, his mouth drying. Megumi closed her eyes.
"Father!"
The door slammed open. The three in the room turned to see a red-faced Erina panting by the entrance. She cleared her throat, her eyes darting nervously around the kitchen before taking a tiny step in.
"Ah, Erina. Now, where have you been?" Azami chided. "You stupid girl, didn't I tell you that we have an important event today? A most important tasting tonight?"
"What…?" The students shot each other perplexed looks when Azami gave a kind, pitying look.
"Oh you poor, stupid things. This isn't a competition against me. It's against Erina."
Erina's face blanched.
"Make her and the unlying Tongue of God acknowledge your cooking and it'll be my… 'loss'. In one respect. I will allow both girls to go back to Tootsuki. But if the cooking is unacceptable, then I get my way with both Erina, Hisako, and you, Yukihira-kun."
"And… the family restaurants?" Megumi asked faintly. Azami clapped his hands.
"Ah yes. But only one will be destroyed." Azami gave a coy smile. "Whichever dish is superior may keep his restaurant..."
"I forgot to mention: This is also a battle between the two of you. And to finally put to rest who is better." The obvious undertone to the phrase echoed almost louder than the words themselves.
"Father! That's, that's hardly fair, then they'll lose regardless-" Erina began when Azami coolly replied, "And who is being indulgent in even giving these rebels a chance? Also, whose sake are they doing it for?" Erina's mouth clamped shut. She hung her head.
Megumi suddenly felt her heart crushed like an empty can of soda. Is this a nightmare? Is that why everything feels like it's repeating? she thought numbly. She stared at the shiny white linoleum floor. Please no. Please... I- these restaurants, what they mean to us, he can't, he can't just-
"Tadokoro..."
Megumi couldn't help turning around, even as her heart wrenched. Souma gazed at her with an expression she couldn't quite place a finger on. It was an unfamiliar expression, especially on the reckless, fiery boy- Oh.
Oh.
Is that… wistfulness?
"Even though he's just playing with us…And, I… And Yukihira is home to me… " Souma took a deep breath. "If it's to you… then… I, if it's you… then I know… that even, even if... I don't… win, it's… " He grasped for words when Megumi shook her head vigorously.
"Don't say that. Don't you say that," she whispered fiercely. Her eyes began to well with tears but she roughly brushed them away. I'm so sorry Mom… everyone… I might not be able to protect us. I might not be strong enough. "If you don't fight me with everything, then there'll be nothing but regret. Aren't you the King of the Shokugeki?" Megumi joked weakly.
He threw her another anguished look that made her watery smile fade and her chest ache and burn like a fever.
