*~ Shotaro ~ Cafeteria
"Let me get this straight."
Madoka adjusts the tables so that they line up correctly. Satisfied, he turns to me and continues, "Okay, now that I've gotten that adjusted, would you please explain to me what in the world happened just now? I don't take very kindly to unexpected surprises—especially since this one almost toppled my cake."
I watch as Hayana brings the aforementioned red velvet cake to the table, before conspicuously swiping her finger along the top and helping herself to some of the icing with a giggle, earning herself the odd glare from Kagaku. "Well, we don't know yet, but the Political Trio think it has something to do with our mysterious motive. They've been trying out different things to see if it will recur." I respond.
"Aaaaaaaa! Dead! Escape! Fine! Gun!"
Sure enough, Bree is screaming at the top of her lungs, in an effort to check whether the alarms and lights were triggered by the sound level or a specific set of words. Nothing appears to be working so far, and no one can remember just what exactly was said before.
It's amazing how quickly I'm accepting the fact that everything's going to shit. Unfortunately, that doesn't make me any less scared.
"Well, forget about it. For now, just sit back, relax, and enjoy your dinner, yes?" Madoka smiles, before disappearing back into the kitchen.
I must say, for a Food Critic, he certainly knows how to cook. Set before us on the tables is a rather simple spread of your everyday cafeteria food. However, unlike the fresh, if slightly unappetizing, meals served this morning that probably actually belonged in your everyday cafeteria, well.
"Food...Glorious food…" Misaki inches another finger towards the fried chicken wings before Harper stops her yet again with a hand. "Wait until we're all seated and ready to eat," she admonishes. "It's only polite."
Suffice to say, the presentation was a tantalizing step-up.
So that's why the Tachibana's lunches looked different earlier today — he must have been preparing for the both of them!
Wheeling in the rather-large rice bucket at long last, Madoka wipes off a few beads of sweat, before declaring to the immense relief of everyone present, "Dinner is served!"
And at once, we all dive in.
I myself fill the plate with a few pork chops and a side of rice, and sit down with the Hirose siblings to eat. I cut into one, take a bite, and my mouth literally explodes with flavor.
I'm not even going to apologize for using 'literally', this stuff is delish!
The murmurs of the room seem to agree, if the satisfied smiles and rapid movement of utensils are of any indication. "Well-deserved compliments to the chef." Yamato comments, digging into his wings and fries.
"It certainly is very palatable." Yumi smiles. "Thank you very much, Madoka."
Laurent pauses from buttering a potato to offer his two cents' worth. "I suppose it's just our luck that one of our talents can be put to some form of practical use in our current situation."
The Food Critic takes the kudos in his stride, offering a nod and a wry grin in return before settling down to eat.
I return to savouring my pork chops.
One by one, our utensils clatter onto our empty plates—the universal sign of a great meal.
Misaki yawns, before doing her best impression of Gordon Ramsay. "That was marvelous. Absolutely spot-on. Now, if you're gonna 'scuse me, I think I'll just take a little break, yeah?"
She proceeds to hunch down on the table, resting, when—
WEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOO...
And all of a sudden, the alarms and blinking lights return; the rumbling that comes with it causes our table and assorted dinnerware to shake with it. Having gone through it once before, we are less taken aback, though still shaken up by the prolonged racket.
But at the same time, a memory occurs to me.
I think I've figured out something, and judging by how Ai is grinning, she's realized it as well.
The disturbances cease after five minutes, upon which she jumps onto the tabletop.
"Okay, listen up, folks!" she addresses us all, that enduring smile of hers ever-plastered across her face. "I think I have a good idea of how this motive works!"
Silence follows, before Ryu breaks it. "Well? Go on, tell us, what is it?"
"Hey, I never said I was going to tell you guys!" Ai grins wolfishly.
At once, the protests ensue. "How dare you withhold important information from us all!" Kagaku slams his fist on the table, causing Hayana to jump back slightly, before he points a finger at Ai. "You will tell us, treble maker!"
Treble maker?
Surprisingly, the next to speak isn't either of them, but Harper, who looks like she just had an epiphany.
...Riiiiight, Harper was also sitting beside us when Ai fell asleep that time.
"Everyone, I've figured it out! The theme of this motive is sleeplessness!" she cries.
I can practically see the gears turning in my classmates' minds.
"So what you're saying is that the loud noises, epileptic lights and earthquakes are just to prevent us from sleeping?" Bree asks the question on everyone's mind.
"It's just a theory...A game—wait, nevermind." Harper cuts herself off with a giggle. I think I could see Athena's eyebrow rise a bit, but it might have been just me.
Iso pipes up, "Her hypothesis could be correct, though. I mean, the alarms and stuff only started because Misaki was gonna fall asleep earlier."
He pauses, before raising a hand. "Actually, why don't we test it out? I'll try to get some sleep right now—you guys might want to prepare yourselves."
Everyone, including me, brings their hands up to cover their ears. Once he sees that we're all ready, he lies his head on the table and closes his eyes. Sure enough, the chaos returns with a vengeance, and my palms can only drown out so much of the bedlam. We wait for the alarms to stop before we resume our discussion, though I swear Ai was mouthing something that looked like 'La La La' over the din.
"I suppose Harper is right about it, then," Athena says after we've removed our hands. "Sleep deprivation is what Monotee's aiming for."
"He's targeting our good looks, that's what." Gin grumbles.
"That's not all. Excluding the naps that some of us have taken, I don't believe the rest have had any sleep since we woke up this morning at…" Kokushi's voice trails off as a look of realization creeps onto his face.
Whether is it because of their bond as siblings or her talent as a mind reader, Yumi's face nevertheless lights up. "We're in an embassy," she declares. "The different countries representing our rooms, along with how Monotee refers to himself as 'Ambassador' is the proof."
"Well, that's helpful and all, but let's get back to the point. We can worry about being trapped in an embassy of despair later." Kokushi glances at the clock. Just after eight—we've been having dinner for the better part of an hour. "It's been at least twelve hours since we've all been awake in some capacity; around seven since some of us took a rest."
"How does everyone feel?" Yamato asks, standing up.
The responses are somewhat varied, but all of them are generally along the line of doing well.
"In that case, I suggest that we should all retire to our rooms and rest. Do not attempt to sleep, but minimize as much activity as you can to conserve your energy. Madoka," he turns to the Food Critic, who perks up at the mention of his name. "Do we have any coffee in the kitchen?"
"If you could call that 'coffee', yes," Madoka grimaces. "It's that bloody fake stuff that comes in instant packets instead of coffee beans though. Euch."
"It'll have to do. Whoever needs the coffee to survive the night, stop by the kitchen and pick up what you need. For now, everyone is dismissed for the night. Take care, and be assured of your own safety." And with that, Yamato concludes his semi-rousing speech.
One by one, we get up and leave, presumably back to our rooms. While some head for the door without a second thought, the rest of us stay behind to help clear the tables. As one of the last ones in the room, I grab my plate and a few others, before depositing them in the now-empty rice bucket.
Stepping back, I accidentally bump into Masashi, who rights herself almost immediately. "Careful, Toku, I don't want you falling head over heels for me so easily," she says with a wink.
...Is she actually flirting with me?
Dropping off her collection of utensils, she turns and walks over to Madoka, who is meticulously transferring what's left of the red velvet cake into a container. Without even asking for his permission, she leans in from behind him and pecks him on the cheek.
He turns around, mildly shocked, but Masashi presses a finger to his lips. "Think of it as a freebie for all the hard work you went through to make me dinner," she purrs, before turning on her heels and walking away.
The faintest sign of a blush has crossed his face as I walk over. "Uh...You alright there?" I ask, though I can feel the grin stretch across my face as I do.
He shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "Yeah, sure, I'm...fine. Getting back to...cleaning up. Yeah."
"Don't overwork yourself, man. Yamato said to conserve energy. See you tomorrow." I excuse myself, patting him on the back for good measure.
I make it all the way out of the cafeteria before I burst into nervous laughter. I feel absolutely bad for doing that to Madoka, but at the same time, I'm a little glad it wasn't me in his position.
He took it way better than I'd ever t—
"Toku?"
The quiet voice makes me yelp, and I jump to the side away from it. Turns out it was only Athena though. "There's nothing to be afraid of, it's just me," she continues serenely, with a tiny smile.
I calm down. "Sorry, you just kinda scared me there." I apologize, before I start to amble back to my room. The quiet pattering of footsteps causes me to turn my head around—Athena is following me.
She catches the look on my face, and explains, "We're going back to our rooms, aren't we? I'm keeping you company, I guess."
Without waiting for a response, she continues her walk, and I do the same. Silently, we traverse the hallway back to the lobby and onwards.
...This is awkward. Should I try to talk to her a bit more?
Would you like to hang out with Athena?
{Well, we're going in the same direction anyways...}
Nah. It's just gonna be awkward.
"So...Athena, where are you from?" I ask, in an attempt to make conversation.
"The Netherlands," answers Athena. "It was a nice place."
I'd expected some more sentences to follow, which didn't come at all, so about eight awkward footsteps reverberate in the (thankfully, still) quiet hallway after she finished saying the word "place".
"Uh…" I break the silence as awkwardly as a rusty guitar string ripping would have broken it.
"Yes?" Athena quietly responds. She turns to me, her side-bun swaying, and her full face is in my view, but I couldn't really tell if she was invested in the convo or not. If someone told me that the enigmatic girl in Justin Bieber's What Do You Mean? was really this silent blonde girl right here, I wouldn't even doubt it for a second.
"Netherlands is," I start, unsure where I wanted this talk to head, "uh—a nice place, isn't it?"
Nailed it.
Athena looks at me for a few seconds, which made me kinda nervous, but then she looked back away. "...Yeah. Like I said, nice place." Looking at her pensive face from the side, I feel an air of saudade in her longing eyes and half-pursed lips.
She then turns to me again inquisitively. "Do you want to keep talking about cows and calves?"*
Cows? Calves? I'm utterly lost, like—I don't know, cows and calves in a big pasture.
"Uh, I guess?" I answer. I don't even make an effort to hide the fact that I'm totally bamboozled.
"Where do you come from?" Athena rallies the question back to me.
"Oh, me?" I reflexively blurt, then try to think of a good response. "Well, I'm fully Japanese, you can probably tell. I like Japan, yeah, but I don't really have any special memories about the country, if that makes sense."
Nice fuzz, Toku, I snark internally. Of course a country you've never really stepped outside of is too broad to have a memory about.
Still as serene as a siren, Athena looks away from me and around a corner in the hallway. "I see," she reacts accordingly. She still has that indescribable, indiscernible look about her.
"Oh, oh, my sister's Japanese too," I segue hastily. "Yeah, I like my sister. She's cool. Not really a big fan of my parents, though. Especially my step-dad."
"Parental problems?" Athena asks. "Parents are quite literally the first people you meet in life; it must have been living hell to not have that trust."
"Yeah, I guess," I reply. "I still kinda blame him for half my misfortune, heh. I bet your parents were better off than mine, though."
"They're dead," Athena bluntly states.
...If there was background music playing right now, it would have just stopped short right here.
The air around us freezes over, even though Athena didn't really look affected by it. On the other hand, I am completely taken aback and surprised by how matter-of-factly she mentioned such a tragic thing to say. A trail of sweat rolls down my forehead.
How are you not affected?!
"They were both nice people," Athena reminisces. "They had busy jobs, but we could manage to find enough time to spend together. My mother was a behavioral psychologist and my father was a game theorist. In a way, it was only natural that I became a mathematician."
It turns out she has quite the tragic history. Having two people you've loved more than anyone else both die? I don't think I'd be able to handle that loss, and even if I could, I sure wouldn't handle it as well as this…amazing person over here.
"Must have been tough," was all I could muster after hearing something that grave. "Do you want to talk about, uh, something else? Like this new motive? It's going to be a big pain in the ass."
Athena nods. "I concur. I'm no biologist, but I do know that at our age, six hours of sleep is the bare minimum. With the expected constant noise reaching above the threshold of what we're used to at night, even that seems unrealistic. And I doubt that anyone has the luxury of noise-cancelling headphones."
Noise-cancelling headphones? Damn it! Now I wish I carried my pair around. Where are you now that I need you, headphones?
"I don't think I'm gonna do well through this, like at all. The most I get would be free eyeshadow under my eyes, and that's not where that's supposed to go."
Immediately after, I hear a voiceless giggle escape Athena's petite nose. It was unexpectedly...kinda cute. From the side of her face, I could see the edge of her mouth curl up pleasantly. She sure has a nice smile—on the times that she does smile...
I continue, "For real, though, I feel like I'm not gonna make it. I'm not usually good at sleeping in a loud environment."
"Me neither," Athena responds, "but it is true that some people will be more affected by the noise than others. There are some factors that change the outcome, like how much sleep their body usually needs, or how much noise they can sleep through."
Amazingly, she seems to have already thought through on this motive, despite us figuring it out just now. I mean, she is the SHSL Mathematician, so I guess she's just really good at thinking all this stuff.
"Wow," I respond, astonished. "You clearly put a lot of thought into this already. Do you have, like, tips for me on how to survive this?"
Athena puts her hand up to her mouth to focus her thoughts. "I doubt that the Mastermind would make the motive weak enough to be cancelled by hiding under the blankets and covering your ears, but it would have some effect in alleviating the sleeplessness. But in the end, insomnia would be a given."
Internally, I sigh. So there is no escape to the piercing noises and the flashing lights. Big Brother is watching you sleep—or at least, trying to sleep.
"Alright," I reply with resignation in my voice. I look around, and see the tricolor Dutch flag a few steps behind me. "Hey, Athena, I think you just walked past your room."
"I have time," answers Athena, "and besides, I have nothing better to do in my room. I'd like to wander around the dorms for a while. And Toku—"
She points to the Swiss flag with a faint, unassuming smile, like she did before I first went in there. That brought me back memories, even though they weren't so great.
"Oh," I mutter. "Well, thanks for keeping me company on my way back. I'll see you around."
Athena nods. "See you again, Toku. Try to have a good night's sleep." She looked back away and resumed her slow, leisurely walk. Her flowing blond hair brought on my mind an image of waves on a deep, calm sea. It fills me with… Resolve? Strength of will? Some other synonym of that.
FTE Complete!
You obtained a Hope Shard!
*~ Shotaro ~ Shotaro's Dorm: "Switzerland"
"The time is now ten o'clock! Night Time is now in effect! Please return to your rooms and go to bed! The Conference Room and Lounge have been declared out of bounds! Also, the water supply is now cut off!"
Oh, well isn't that just great? I won't even to get to have a shower to wake me up, wake me up inside.
As I am groaning in my thoughts, I flop down on the bed lain before me and try to shut my eyes while lying down. Of course, the alarms blare out loud, trying to prevent any opportunities of rest.
Ugh… Can't these damn things shut up already? I wouldn't mind to be locked away in permanent slumber right now… Wait, I take that back. I don't want to die. I sometimes wish I'd never been born at aaaall!
I start to air guitar, trying to play away the noise. Of course my attempts are in vain, as it doesn't help resolve my problem any.
You know what? Screw it. If I can't get any sleep, I might as well go do something to make me pass out.
With that, I hop up out of bed and give myself a slight slap to the face to wake myself up. Then I proceed to do a little bit of stretching, hoping it would help some, but to no avail.
Well plan A was a failure.
I resume trying different ways of passing the time, and find myself horribly, horribly bored. The hours pass by in a daze, and before I know it.
"Goooooooooood morning, students! It's seven in the morning, so get ready to greet another beeeeeautiful day!"
It says something when it's Monotee's voice that breaks the tedium of my nightlife. Crap...I feel like crap. Oh well, at least I can take that shower now.
After changing into a new pair of clothes—the same fashion as the ones I came here in—I take a few steps towards the door and push it open to then turn back to stare at the room.
One day has passed since we have known each other and you already prove to be of no use… You disgust me. There wasn't even a mint on my pillow when I got here? What type of room service is this?
Minor ranting aside, I decide to head in one random direction, not really recognizing where I was headed as my brain isn't processing what my eyes are seeing clearly. However, I do eventually find myself in front of a large pair of double doors and, having nothing to lose, I enter through them.
*~Shotaro~ Cafeteria
As I look around, I can distinguish that Masashi is sitting a few tables away from me, Laurent is sipping on some tea in the back corner while reading a book of some sort, and, from what I can hear, the kitchen is currently occupied—no doubt by Madoka.
Masashi then averts her tired gaze from the face of the table over to me and gives a warm smile. "Hey, Toku. Hope being tired won't ruin that face of yours. I need something to marvel at."
She pats the empty seat by her side. "Why don't you take a seat and let a load off?"
Would you like to hang out with Masashi?
{Doesn't look like I'll be stabbed, what can go wrong?}
Uh… I don't want to be flirted with.
"I hope I'm not intruding on anything?" I ask, not knowing how this conversation is going to go.
It is Masashi after all… Anything is possible, be it for better, or for worse.
"No, no honey, you are fine. I wasn't doing much anyways." Masashi says with her smile intensifying and cupping my hand.
I am starting to regret this already.
I decide to glance around the room, trying not to pay much attention to Masashi, for who knows what she might be doing at that very moment. "S-So… How have y-you been?" I inquire, trying not to let the current scenario get to me.
It is bad enough I am already socially awkward with guys… Even worse with girls, but Masashi takes that to a new level of 'Get me the hell out of here before I die of heat exhaustion and/or embarrassment'.
"I am doing fine. Just a bit of… Sleepiness is all. It is rather… Annoying of them to do this to us, to say in the nicest way possible. And it seems like I am not the only who thinks so… Some of the others have already gotten horns in their ears a few times..." Masashi says all this, but obviously is feeling more affected than she lets on. She has bags under her eyes, like the eyes are getting ready for a vacay on a remote eye-land. Even her bags have bags.
"Couldn't have put it better myself." I let out with a sigh, as I slowly try to get my hands out of her grasp.
I think I need an adult. This woman is going to do something to me soon, I know it.
"I remember back at Aunt Ryouta's house, I usually went to sleep earlier than most as I had to practice from the crack of dawn." Masashi trails off with the end of her sentence, her eyes shutting just for a few seconds before she snapped them back open again. "Urgh...The fatigue is getting to me, somehow. I thought I promised myself I wouldn't succumb to it after training for so long."
"Oh gods...I can't begin to imagine how that must have been like. When I was on tour, the earliest I ever woke up was around 8 AM and that was only on concert days." I manage to slip out, as I have almost successfully managed to loosen my hand from her fading grasp.
"Lucky… Though what was it like away from home for tours? It has only been a day and I am already missing Aunt Ryouta." Masashi says as she slowly lays her head along my arm.
"I'm…" I struggle to find the words as Masashi continues to rest. "I do miss my sister."
Damn it! I was so close… Please Masashi, abort mission! Abort mission!
"Your sister, huh?" she asks. "Is she as cute as you?"
"Yeah, well-" I start to realize how strange that sentence was about to sound as something stops me mid-sentence.
A new voice. "Um, excuse me, guys? Service please."
FTE Complete!
You obtained a Hope Shard!
I don't think I've ever been so glad in my life to be interrupted mid-sentence. A familiar face comes over, holding a plate of something I can't identify—though it looks fantastic.
Those are clearly strawberries, and that's some kind of cream or milk, and they're all sandwiched between puff pastry. I feel like I should know this dish.
"Good morning, Toku. Here you go, Masashi," Madoka greets as he sets down the plate. "One white chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille."
The fork appears in her hand faster than I can see it, and the grin that follows her first bite stretches from ear to ear.
"This...This tastes like how Aunt Ryouta used to make it," she sighs happily, raising up and detaching from my arm. "I can't thank you enough, Madoka, you honestly spoil me rotten. I'd like to make it up to you somehow…"
Finally! Mission successful.
A thought visibly occurs to her, and she smiles cheshirely. "Say, have you ever heard of 'kiss the cook'?"
"Miss Hayabusa, I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't try to." He replies without a smile, though his eyes betrayed the happiness his mouth wouldn't show.
Turning to me, he holds out a hand. "Would you like to join me in the kitchen? I wouldn't mind making breakfast for you as well."
Oh thank God, I can get away. Lucky me. I swear she's giving me a heart-at-tack. Troublemaker!
*~ Shotaro ~ Kitchen
As I enter, I see that I'm not the only person invited. Predictably, where one Tachibana is, the other is sure to be, but it's a mild surprise seeing Harper and Laurent sitting at the makeshift table to the side next to Ai. He must have been invited in whilst I was talking with Masashi.
"Gooooooood morning, Toku!" Harper bounds over and greets me. As I return the favour, I see that she's the only one without a plate of food—Laurent is simultaneously writing stuff in his notebook while picking on a spread of raspberry crêpes, while Ai is stuffing her face with cake.
What is it with people and desserts in the morning? Or is it just because they need the sugar to keep going?
"Have a seat." Madoka says quickly before rushing over to check on the oven. With a satisfied smirk, he pulls out a baking tray, upon which sits what looks to be some sort of meat pie, judging by the brown gravy oozing out of the top. He transfers it to a plate. "One order of steak, ale and mushroom pie, service please."
Even before Madoka finishes his words, Harper has already taken said plate, though not before hugging him with a brief, "Thank you!"
Leaving me to deal with his ever-growing blush, she proceeds to return to the table, and begins to dig in.
Madoka clears his throat. "So, Toku, anything you'd like for breakfast? I cater to most cuisines, though I can't promise everything."
Um...Actually, I've never really had a personalized breakfast made for me in the first place, what am I supposed to tell him?
He looks me up and down, eyeing my indecision and all. "Hmm...You strike me as an Eggs Benedict kind of guy. Even if you aren't, I'm pretty sure you should like them, so yeah."
Walking over to the refrigerator, he begins preparations for my breakfast, pulling out a couple of eggs and something I faintly recognize as English muffin. He pauses from selecting a lemon to turn to me.
"It's way too silent in this kitchen, wouldn't you agree?" he asks, subtly shooting a glance at the other three occupants, before turning back to me. "Do you want to talk? I hear talking is a free action nowadays."
Would you like to hang out with Madoka?
{I'm getting free food out of it, sure!}
Eh, he looks busy, I don't really want to distract him.
"Sure. What do you want to talk about?" I continue, standing awkwardly to the side as I watch him work his magic at the countertop.
"I dunno, anything. You're a guitarist, right?" he says absentmindedly, setting up a bowl and a saucepan of water. "How did you get into playing the guitar, then?"
My mind wanders back to a happier time in my life—when everything was simple, and my real father was still around.
"My dad used to play in a band. He was a big fan of AC/DC, and played lead guitar for a while before he met my mother. When I was thirteen, I found his old guitar digging around in my closet." I recalled, remembering how curious I was when I first opened that box. I had been looking for one of Suzuka's plushies when I chanced across it, and my life was never the same again.
"Did it still work?" Madoka's voice shakes me out of my reverie. He has gone on to boiling—"Simmering."—simmering the water, and has placed a bowl of runny yellow stuff over it.
"Yeah, I mean, sure, some of the strings were a bit rusty," I laugh internally, remembering how my dad snapped three of them doing his first power chord in fourteen years, "But he just went out and bought two new ones for me and him. I took lessons from him every weekend, and, well, here I am now, as the Super High School Level Guitarist."
His eyes appeared distant as he whisked the yellow stuff. "So you discovered your talent thanks to your father, huh? That's good, he must have been proud of you for being such a natural at it."
"Yeah, he was...I wish he was still with the rest of my family though." I mutter that last part under my breath.
Unfortunately, I may have underestimated his hearing, because Madoka pauses from frying the ham to look at me. "Oh dear, Toku, I'm sorry for bringing up bad memories," he apologizes. "I honestly didn't know."
"Nah, it's fine. My dad's still alive, just that my mother divorced him and remarried, that's all…" Urp, he's looking at me guiltily.
"How about you tell me how you got into, uh, food critiquing, Madoka?" I ask in an effort to change the subject. Another thought occurs to me, and I continue, "And for that matter, if you're a food critic, why do you cook?"
Breaking an egg into a bowl, he adds a pinch of salt and pepper, all the while elaborating, "I was one year younger than you when I started, you see. The month before my thirteenth birthday, I visited a pretty high-class restaurant in the suburbs." He frowns. "Wasn't sure why they were considered so—they didn't season their food at all. That day was one of the first times I was ever 'only eating', and 'never appreciating' the food."
"So I tried again," he continues, taking the ham off the frying pan and putting the English muffin onto it to grill. "I went to a bistro about two prefectures away, and ordered their signature dish. While I could taste the pork knuckle, it was bad, and the review I left on their napkin was the only good thing I found about the experience."
"Hard to please, huh?" I find myself uttering without realizing how impolite that must have sounded.
Luckily or unluckily for me, he looks at me with an indecipherable smile. "Younger me was a bit of a self-entitled brat, I'll give you that much."
I laugh nervously. "I suppose it's good that at least you're aware of it."
"I had to be, or the hundred-or-so restaurants I visited after that would never let me live my newspaper reviews down." He laughs, and the smile stays on his face as he takes to swirling the simmering water in the saucepan. "In any case, Hope's Peak contacted me shortly after I had gone on my little rampage, and the talent stuck with me ever since. As for why I cook, that's far significantly simpler to explain."
"How so?" I ask, stepping to the side as he brings the bowl containing the egg over to stand in front of the stove.
"What right has one to judge food if they cannot perform to their chef's level?" He drops the contents of the bowl into the saucepan, and sighs almost nostalgically. "That is why I cook as well as taste all food. Such is the thought process behind the Food Critic, and how he critiques—though I can see why someone people think it's redundant."
...That's actually a very respectable mindset. 'Super Happy Death Punch' has had its fair share of music critics, and I'm pretty sure some of them have never even touched a musical instrument in their life. One of them even had the nerve to say that all punk bands are daft.
"No, I think that's kinda cool." I say. "You're willing to bring yourself to be a level on par with them so that you clearly know what you're talking about. Not a lot of people have the dedication to achieve that."
He nods at me, pleased. "Why, thank you, Toku. I guess it's pretty dedicated of me, sure, but in the end, I just want to help the chefs who were nice enough to cook for me perform to their fullest potential. It's only fair that, if I ask for the best, they deserve only the best in return."
Scooping up the now-poached egg with a slotted spoon, he arranges the cooked produce to produce what I've only seen in pictures—a glistening, beautiful plate of Eggs Benedict. "Bon appétit, Toku, and thank you for the conversation. I rather enjoyed our talk, but it would be rude to continue while you eat."
I accept the plate and thank him earnestly. Knowing a bit more about Madoka has helped me to understand him much better.
And as expected, this is scrumptious!
FTE Complete!
You obtained a Hope Shard!
"This has certainly been a pleasure. Merci beaucoup, Madoka." Laurent comments with a slight grin, once all of us have finished our respective breakfasts. "I would much like for you to continue this arrangement to cook for us all."
"He's got to. His pride won't let anyone else defile his sacred kitchen and its contents." Ai snickers, before nudging Harper, the two of them laughing in sync.
The Food Critic looks mildly hurt, but makes no attempt to deny her claim, as he finishes off the last of his brioche.
"In any case, I'll be taking my leave too. Do take care, my friends." Laurent gets up and dusts his turtleneck off of any crumbs, before bowing and taking his leave. "Bonne journée."
Meanwhile, Madoka picks up yet another bowl. "I'm thinking pancakes for the rest of the class. I can make them quickly, and they're a great source of energy."
"Here, let us help!" Harper pulls Ai to their feet (with a yelp coming from the Pianist), dragging her to stand beside him. "It's the least we can do!"
With a nod towards the duo, his gaze travels to me.
"Yeah, of course," I say, with what I hope is a smile. "I'll help."
I guess it isn't so bad here after all. If things continue to be as peaceful as this, I'm sure we'll be able to get through this motive.
I can only hope the others are taking it just as well...
Note:
*In Dutch, "to talk about cows and calves" (over koetjes en kalfjes praten) means "to do small talk".
Authors' Postscript:
Hello there everyone, it is Mod Rev speaking. We finally realized a chapter on time, so hooray! Hope you liked this final FTE based chapter. I think you can all guess what is coming up next? Well, if you can't too bad because I won't spoil you. With that, I hope you have a good day! —Rev
Salutations and greetings, readers. Mod Keima reporting in. I hope you like the Free Time Event featuring Athena, my OC submission. I wrote it myself because I thought I needed some practice for writing on my own. Did it turn out well? Any ships and predictions coming from you all? Leave them in the Reviews section and let us know. And as always, stay tuned for the next chapter. —Keima
If there were any queries as to why I was so anxious to speed through last chapter, then this is why—my lovely little cinnamon roll Madoka got himself an FTE! He was also the most-voted for student in the poll, so a big shoutout to all of his fans (and me) for making this opportunity a reality! Honestly though, look at how precious he is. Anyways, we may or may not be doing a certain something soon, so look forward to it, I guess. Prepare for the first...big twist. Cheers! —SD
Have a good day! —Rev, Keima, and SD