Chapter 27 – Imperial Infiltration
'Stellar performance as always'.
Yozora skipped around the flowing rubbish bins as he wound his way up The Slopes. He forwent the courtesy shuttle bus as he yearned for a refreshing uphill walk just to help him clear his mind. Yukihira and his crew, including Hayato-kun, knocked the ball out of the park and practically had Terunori-senpai by the balls tonight. Yuhikira had finally won his first day of decimating Terunori-senpai in sales. He was genuinely shocked to see Mimasaka lending a hand too! He had mixed feelings about his old nemisis being there with all of them but when he saw how hard he'd worked, how he put full use of his unsavoury mimicry to be Yukhira's doppleganger, as well as the passionate furnace in his eyes which was never there before, Yozora began to entertain the notion that maybe the distasteful copy-cat chef was on the path of penitence and redemption. Yukihira wasn't stupid and probably had seen something in him that was worth a second chance. Only, Yozora wasn't the type who did second chances for people like Mimasaka... But it had been Yukihira's call as hard as it was for Yozora not to voice something. Either way, he was going to keep a closer eye on Mimasaka Subaru now, even if Yukihira vouched for him. Mistrust was still present deep in his heart. Other than that, Yozora had been ecstatic to have been part of it but he couldn't stay for the after-party with the gang. He had his mind set on the event he was looking forward to the most.
Seeing Nakiri.
The sudden burst of cheer and claps behind him made him smile. It looked like The Tokise High School Koto Club had finished their set for the night. They had come a long way from being a clueless bunch to a team of talented musicians. The koto in their hands sang the language of the universe whose serenades came to the heart. The soon-to-be professional koto musicians took their audience on a more emotional journey than they've every been.
His smile grew at the memory of how he'd come to know that ragtag mob of mostly amateur musicians. Their story on how they formed was just as crazy as how The Guild had formed as well in his opinion. Threatened with liquidation, the sole surviving member of the koto club was about to give up all hope until the hero of their story arrived in the nick of time. A handsome delinquent from a line of koto makers sought redemption for the pain he caused his grandfather who was a gifted crafter of koto. He'd announced his intentions to join, pulling along three more supporting characters. Then along came the heroine. A famous koto prodigy transfer student who'd gone underground to escape the suffocating musical world's expectations and the trauma of her Spartan mother, signed up to pursue an unburdened high school life. Their club advisor who moonlighted as a maths teacher, had been a past celebrated prodigy composer within the music circles that even Yozora knew his name. They all joined forces to triumph over adversity, put side their differences, and saved their koto club from the flames of disbandment. It was quite the Odyssey, and a good story he liked to hear about time again.
The best part? They became family. They felt the souls of one another more than other groups of people. That was the nature of music. It released the soul in such a vulnerable way, so honest and real. Then there was all the time they spent together, the number of times they fell out and needed to forgive one another. All those emotions. All those memorable times spent together.
'For better or worse, that makes them kin'.
A year ago, the Tokise High school Koto Club had an upcoming tournament and were stuck. Their club advisor was supposed to have composed a piece for their tournament entry but the composition was left unfinished. So their group needed to have a another person that could finish off the piece before the deadline. Unfortunately, he'd had a family emergency and their deputy club adivisor, yet another well-known koto player, was on an overseas holiday leaving them with noone to guide them as a team. It was an unusual quest because it had nothing to do with cooking but Yozora took them up in a heart-beat. There was something about it that called out to him and he was glad he did it because the bond he created with the koto club and all their quirky members was something that withstood the test of time. Even though he never played the koto, music was music. He listened to to their stories, watched them, hung out with them, studied the koto and did extensive research on the musicality of koto. He quickly learned how to read and annotate koto musical notes from their most talented member. He finished composing the rest of the piece on the piano first, before transcribing it into koto notes.
Then he trained them on their new piece three hours a day after school and an additional six hours on the weekends right up until the day before their final tournament. There was no way he was going to let them ascend the stage until their combined soul of the music became tangible in a way that the judges had never experienced before… Until they experienced the music, the way their hearts told them as one.
They'd won.
So their quest had been fate, he surmised. If he hadn't taken up their quest then they wouldn't be on his NPC Network, therefore they wouldn't have been called upon by him to help Yukihira's stall and reign in his excess customers while the chefs worked their arses off.
Tonight, he'd forgotten to ask their team captain if those two were dating yet because their chemistry was out of control when he saw them last.
Yozora awkwardly smoothed down his hair, but no luck. It was still sticking up at the back and his sweat had already disappeared, so there was nothing to shape it. He hadn't had enough time to change completely out of his chef's uniform either. The best he could do was to get rid of his chef's coat because it smelled and sprayed on some deodorant, which he kept in his kit. He should've packed a fresh clean jacket or something. He was nowhere near dresscode, but he hoped that was okay with Nakiri. Even if she wasn't okay with him just being in a sweaty black shirt and navy-blue chef's pants, he couldn't do anything about it anyway unless they had a spare change of clothes stashed somewhere for him to put on.
Being in The Slopes was like a whole different world in comparison to the other areas. Looking at it, he found it hard to believe that the country was in an economic recession. By this hour, most of the booths in the Campus Centre and Main Street booths were closing up. In The Slopes, it was still going strong because it targeted a completely different demographic. Most of the patrons here were wealthy enough to stay on campus or at the Tootsuki Resort. With that kind of customer base, The Slopes tended to offer full-course dining.
He made it up to the front entrance. It was not the standard rectangular shape, but rather it was a sort of archway that drew every eye upward. Its brilliant façade was bathed in warm golden lighting and its doorway was adorned with tasteful plants to soften the rest of the austere building. He spotted Arato manning the desk as the maître d'. She donned a neat suit and pencil skirt. He smoothed his hand over his shirt.
"Arato!", he waved at her.
Her attention shot up to him and he could see that she looked a little surprised but held it together. Surely Nakiri had mentioned to her that he was coming. Her professionalism was perfect and she deigned him a customer-service smile with just a hint of reluctant friendliness. Ah, she'd come around to her Empress dating the video-game music otaku soon enough.
"Reservation under Mitsunaga?", he asked.
"G-Good evening Mitsunaga-kun. Yep, I have it right here", she pulled out a menu for him.
"Which table did Nakiri book for me tonight?".
"It's not that one by the window, if that's what you had in mind", she said, gesturing to the one chair and the one table with a candle by the beautiful expansive window.
Ouch. Looks like she did let her aide know, along with how much he sulked about not being on that special table. Also, was his facial expressions getting easier to read? It was a matter of time, he supposed… hanging around a lively bunch like Yukihira, the Aldini twins and Polar Star Dorm would've had a massive change in how he expressed his feelings and social interactions. It was… refreshing…
He glimpsed that cloistered spot as he walked by, his eyes grazing the outline of the simplistic silhouette situated at the best window view anyone could ask for. The empty seat was like a puzzle stencil waiting for its missing piece to fill the gap for it to become whole. When Yozora had spotted it on Nakiri's schematics for her booth he immediately assumed it was for him and he was giddy that he had his own place in her restaurant. She had shut that shit down immediately. She declared that that it was for a special someone in her life who used to be a chef in the Nakiri manor whom she'd always admired since young. Her happy stories about this chef flowed from there which had warmed him from the inside out. Adoration and relief filled him. Despite having an abusive father and an intense and workaholic grandfather, Nakiri still seemed to have faith in men and found a good male role-model in this mysterious chef. She had told him how she'd hoped that every year, that one day he'd come back and see her and eat something she'd make for him at the Moon Banquet.
Of course she had a heart.
Yozora hadn't even met the man and already he felt grateful for his presence in his girlfriend's adverse life.
"Hisako! Is he here ye— Ah!".
Speak of the devil, Nakiri turned the corner and Yozora's gaze immediately landed on her. Her face was flushed from the heat of the kitchen and yet her hair-bun was still perfectly done up except for a few strands that escaped. She looked divine in his eyes. He noted the similarities in their chef's uniform straight away. She wore a neckerchief like his own, except it was burgandy and its tail wasn't tucked in like his azure one. She also wore a charcoal waist-apron tied off with a thicker ribbon in a bow at the front, while his was simply dark-brown and tied from the back. He saluted her casually and Nakiri trotted up to the both of them. He didn't miss the way Arato hid her face behind the menu as he leaned over to give Nakiri a one-armed hug around the shoulders and nuzzled the side of her head before quickly releasing her. Her lips hesitantly curved into a smile and her eyes glittered just a little more in his presence as they usually did.
"You came on time".
"That I did".
"Any news on Yukihira's booth?".
"Oh yeah, Hayato-kun and I did good, thanks for asking".
"Urgh. I know you both did well, so I needn't ask", she rolled her eyes. "It's hard not to asume so when you spray painted that stupid QR code right outside my restaurant for your equally stupid scavenger hunt!".
"I just wanted you to know that I was thinking of you, even though I'm on the other side of campus".
"Your otaku customers disturbed my customers who were waiting outside".
"I'm helping them meet new people".
"Aren't those conventions Ginsekai-kun talks about enough for them to socialise?".
"I was talking about your customers".
"You're incorrigible".
"And I love you".
"…".
Yozora sniggered. Nakiri practically shoved him towards a hidden spot in her restaurant, little puffs of steam escaping her adorable ears. Shit, he got the hidey-hole near the huge pot-plants? She still wanted to hide him? He resisted the urge to laugh at her cute antics were and to tease her until she cussed him out. It was probably not a laughing matter given how much more consequentual it was for Nakiri than him, that they were dating, so he held it in. He changed gears and focused on how light-hearted and joyous he felt being here in Nakiri's booth and the happiness he felt tickling his chest like an expanding balloon. He focued on keeping a dumb blank face. This evening, he could have some of her precious time for himself, especially when they had a hectic schedule for the Moon Banquet Festival.
When Yozora thought of Nakiri, he felt that she was his 'ride-or-die'. The feelings she made him feel roared at him when it was needed, and it stayed with him in his quiet comfort. The constant companion he treasured when she was not with him physically. He'd fiercely protect it and he'd protect her.
He pulled out his seat and sat down for his tired knees were crying out. Arato handed her Empress the menu and she in turn thrusted it into his face, pretty much bonking him on the nose. He knew he deserved it, but it was worth it. He made sure to catch her hand before she let go and brought it to his lips for a kiss on the knuckles before she could get away in her flurry of embarrassment. She stilled completely, but he could tell she was still buzzing from adrenaline on the inside. Arato skedaddled, looking for some other customers to serve. He also liked the fact that he could still make her 'wary' around him. He smirked at her cute blush and the way she was trying to keep her tough and no-nonsense persona together. His heated gaze simmered down to a watery blue as he gently released her hand and let his fall away to hold the menu properly.
"So what's good to eat tonight?", he asked.
"To start, I recommend the Watermelon Aquachile with Scallop and Coconut Granita. For main, I recommend the Charred Cabbage with Smoked Trout Beurre Blanc and Pork Fat Pangrattato".
Her tone softened significantly as she spoke to him, now that they were shaded together behind the huge monstera plant. Those dishes sounded just as delicious as her. She leaned over his left shoulder and pointed out the items on the expensive linen cardstock. Her breasts lightly brushed against his shoulder forcing him to dampen his shudder. He missed feeling her body against his. Her dishes were written in all cursive English, so his eyes had a hard time scanning for it, but with her help he found them. He read the description in more detail, which was also in English, until he understood what he would be in for.
"What about dessert?".
"Hmm… the dessert I have for you, is not on the menu".
Fuck.
Yozora bit his lip and his eyes formed slits. He fell in love with her all over again. He'd be emotionally fucked in the best way if it was exactly how it sounded. He was astounded by the timing of the delivery as much as the words themselves. The way she said those choice of words full of hot cheekiness and a dash of arrogance was a 'blink-and-you'll-miss-it' moment that Yozora homed in on it like a heat-seeking missile. He prayed to Kami-sama that he and Nakiri were on the same page because he didn't know what to do with himself if she wasn't. He stared at her from the corner of his narrowed eyes and saw that her haughty smirk was in place and that was almost enough to undo him. Her fingers deftly lifted from the menu and before he knew it, traced along his scalp from the back of his ear to his nape in one quick motion. He jolted up. Her nails left electrical shocks along its trail, making him choke on his saliva. His hand instinctively rocketed up to grab at the back of his hair, hoping to catch that mischievous hand so that he could pull her down and snog her. However, all he got was a fistful of his raven strands. Nakiri retreated with a skip in her step. Her confidence casted around her like a queen's cape. She was too quick and spun on her heels with her small hands clasped behind her back and left him to stew in a sexually charged mess.
Wow. She got back at him good.
He groaned lowly and slumped in his seat. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. His whole body dumped all the pent-up energy in the form of heat and every surface area on his body prickled and flushed red. His blush right now could rival hers on days when he was feeling frisky and touchy-feely. Her power to incapacitate him was maddening and she was learning fast.
He righted his position and inspected his table.
"Ah, there's no drinks menu. Maybe she forgot it".
Yozora pushed his seat back and dodged the expansive tropical leaves with the intention of procuring one. He emerged into the warmer light, looking for a waiter floating around or possibly Arato to fetch a drinks menu as he was feeling thirsty now.
He spotted the two girls.
"Excuse me, can I get— Nakiri, you okay?".
He tilted his head. Time slowed to a snail's pace. Something wasn't clicking right, and his stomach dropped. Maybe it was just him and his mounting concern for Nakiri's frozen form, but the mood of the entire room shifted to knife's edge. Nakiri was cemented in the centre of the restaurant with Arato close behind her. Her face was ashen, and her hands trembled against her chest. Arato herself was shaking too. What the hell was happening? Yozora surged forward and caught up to Nakiri's side in ten brisk strides, even pushing past a random waiter who was a smidge in the way. He grabbed at her tight shoulders and made her turn towards him. He didn't like how clunky her body moved and he began to methodically search for any signs of physical harm that could render her in this state but found nothing. He proceeded to immediately seek her gaze, trying to break her out of this paralytic spell that seemed to have overtaken her. She didn't respond and looked straight through his head as if he wasn't there, and it sent him into an anxiety ridden frenzy. He cupped her face desperately, the clamminess alarming him further. The clawing sensation in his gut heightened, when she began to profusely sweat, and her eyes remained far from him.
"Nakiri? Oi, can you hear me? Breathe, Nakiri. Hey! Hello? Come one, Nakiri wake uuuuup! I don't like this!".
The only response he got was quivering lips and a garbled whine which he couldn't figure out what she meant. He clocked his eyes on Arato behind her and saw she was in a similar state as Nakiri, only the difference was that she was still tethered to reality, and her eyes seemed engaged with some terrible visage past his head too. Yozora snarled and spun around, seeking the same external source of danger that could be reducing Nakiri into a ragdoll that cruelly reminded him of the dark times Hayato-kun had been through.
And there it was.
A man.
He sensed it.
A toxic miasma.
"Your concern for my daughter interests me", it spoked.
DAUGHTER?!
Yozora looked at the figure looming at the entrance for real. Get the fuck out. His daughter? This was Nakiri's Father? The one who'd… Where did he come from? His eyes widened until it hurt. What the fuck was he doing here? He drank him in, dissecting his words for any lie. The first thing he noticed was the calm malice deep in his cold black eyes that chilled him to the bone. He saw the world end in them. They cut into him like small papercuts that attacked the same wound over and over, not letting it heal and the blood run. Yozora worked hard not to flinch. Their likeness was uncanny. This man and Nakiri shared the same shape of ears, the same shape of their eyebrows, and the same curve of their cupid's bow. He found it vile that she and this man were related. The echoes of Nakiri's vulnerable confession of her sordid past involving this monstrous being made his blood run thick with fury. Her Father's face was long and gaunt, like a manic and hungry man out to consume everything in his path. He was dressed in a pitch dark, expensive and tailoured ensemble, making him look like a charismatic supervillain. His hair was swept back carefully, leaving a lock of silver strands to accent his disturbingly handsome countenance. Despite his well put together appearance, Yozora was washed with 'bad vibes' from Nakiri's estranged father.
"Who are you to her?", he drawled.
Yozora could hear her shallow breathing brushing against back of his shirt in this suffocating quiet as the onlookers spectated tensely at them in the middle of the restaurant. Yozora tucked his girlfriend further behind him as he stood his ground and levelled himself with this intruder.
"…".
The man's beady eyes swept over his persona momentarily. He seemed to write him off judging by the dismissive flare of his nostril and the sinister amusement creeping away from those sets of obsidian orbs until it transformed into a frosty glare directed over his shoulder, at his daughter.
"Erina. Choose your acquaintances with more care".
Yozora felt her grab the hem of his shirt, and he blindly reached behind him to lace his fingers with hers tightly trying to send calm energy to her but failing. Her fear was palpable, flowing from the tips of her fingers into his palm.
"And that goes for the rest of them", her father commanded the room as he swept his arm through the air to address the patrons. "Your cooking is not meant for this plebian crowd. Commoners such as these are a disgrace to your nobility".
Was he insane? The notable celebrities of the Japanese gourmet food world visible bristled at his careless and candid opinions of them. Ando Shingo, the culinary author, and essayist. Kita Osaki, the sponsor of the Kita Gastronomy Club and even the Sendawara Sisters of Haubi Foods. Some of them even slammed their fists onto the table and called out, wagging their fingers at him. Some of the finer men and more delicate women gasped and sneered while he espoused a very twisted Third Reich-esque sermon about culinary perfection and his aims for restoring it to its former glory in Tootsuki. It infuriated everyone who had sense in the room until they couldn't contain their ire any further and fired back at him. Yet the man remained unaffected like a religious zealot who had long ago sewn their ears shut to all else but their own voice. Tired of entertaining anything else the patrons had to express, he finally slid his eyes onto Yozora and Nakiri, especially his daughter cocooned between himself and Arato. The abrupt drop in his tone was enough to freeze hell over.
"Come Erina my darling. It has been ten years since I first taught you how to cook properly. I want you to show me how your skills have grown".
He felt her flinch instantly and it stabbed at his heart and burned his soul. This time he broke eye-contact with her Father and turned around so that he could collect her into his arms. He spun them around again, so that mostly their sides faced towards her Father. He secured her in a full-bodied hug with her head resting on his clavicle and her face, directed the other way, not giving a damn that every single eye was on the two of them. He then fixed his chin on top of her crown to stop her from turning her head should she feel the compulsion to listen to that serpentine man, effectively keeping him out of her view. He kept a strong stare on her Father, breathing new life to the school urban legend surrounding his disturbing and soul-sucking gaze for which he was infamous. He tracked her Father's every move for any tells to help him figure out what his game was for suddenly turning up at Tootsuski after all this time. For good measure, his hand snaked up to the back of her head to hold her in place. Her father's eyes narrowed imperceptivity at his power-move, but it was enough to expose a sliver of annoyance from the fracture in his arrogant mask.
"I got you", he whispered to her.
"S-Sir! Please!", cried out Arato, springing forward. "I'm afraid we must decline any customers without reservations—".
"Oh? I see an empty table right over there", he quipped.
Nakiri shifted in his tight hold. Her thoughts seemed to have finally caught up with her as the mention of her special table forcibly cleared her of her fear-addled mind. A different kind of dread and horror consumed her expression as she squirmed her face towards that precious table of hers. She began to push against his chest.
"Th-That table, it's—", she choked.
"You can sit at my table", Yozora cut in quickly and gestured his head to his hidden spot, by the other window ensconse by dark green tropical folliage.
Her father's eyes darted to him, and they stayed there for a few agonising beats.
"How kind of you. Fine".
Nakiri's father took his cue and glided past them in one fluid motion. Goosebumps erupted upon his skin as the change in air-pressure brushed over him like a nauseating poltergeist, the kind that wished to do harm on anyone unfortunate to cross its paths. His footsteps echoed sharply against the stone flooring, sounding overly loud to his own ears, like the booming ticking of a bomb. The dark energy pressed in on him as he fought the urge to whisk Nakiri and himself away to safety. The offending waft of her Father's expensive cologne sickened him even further.
"I will view your wine selection first", he declared as he sat down in Yozora's empty seat. "Erina, do you intend to keep me waiting? Your Father is hungry and would like something to eat now".
She trembled again and burrowed herself further into Yozora's chest.
He needed to stop her Father from fucking talking to her!
"Arato", said Yozora lowly. "Get me the wine list".
"Wh-What?"
"Get me the fucking wine list", he seethed.
Yozora unwrapped one arm and fumbled for his phone in his chef's pants pocket. He sent a quick text message with as minimal typos as he could muster using just one free thumb. Last but not least, he switched it to complete silence so that it wouldn't even vibrate before shoving it back in his pocket. Kami-sama. He hoped his button-mashing made sense because, bloody hell… he couldn't afford anything to go wrong from this point forward. He refocused his attention to Nakiri who was hyperventilating, and her face remained drained of all colour.
"Nakiri? Can you hear me? Hey…".
Not working…
"Erina, look at me please".
Her breathing caught in her throat in a quiet hiccup. Her shaking slowly halted, and she forced a shuddering breath in. She gradually but surely, lifted her chin to look at him. Her eyes continued to swirl with panic and unadulterated fear within them with tears lining her lash, but she was finally present. There was a small spark of disbelief in their purple depths as it registered to both students that he spoke her birth name for the first time.
"I'll take care of it. Go with Arato. Okay?".
Her aide swiftly came back with a drinks menu and he grabbed it from her at the same time as unfurling Nakiri from his aching arms and nudging her into Arato's direction with a silent command to her aide to take her somewhere else while he dealt with this piece of work. Once he was sure that Nakiri was out of view with Arato, he turned his focus back to the more urgent need and commuted to his table, where his girlfriend's father made himself comfortable and watchful. Along the way, he snatched the back of a free chair and dragged it from its table, the wooden legs scraping against the pristine floor with a dull screech and pulled it to a stop on the opposite side of Nakiri's Father. He tossed the drinks menu onto the surface. The man wrinkled his nose at him.
Nakiri's Father had his back facing the front door. The gamer-chef positioned it so that he'd be the one facing the front door. Perfect…
"What do you think you're doing?".
"I said you can sit at my table. Not have it", replied Yozora.
The man tutted, crossed his long legs, and folded his leather-gloved hands to cup his knee, the picture of powerful elegance and fine breeding. However, Yozora could tell that it was all airs and grace, and it didn't frighten him as much as the man might think it did. He continued to examine Yozora from down his nose. Whether it was an intimidation tactic or that he was his aristocratic education, he didn't care. Yozora was satisfied and felt more in control now that it was just the two of them. He didn't have to worry about the state of Nakiri right now. He offered her father the same courtesy and glowered at him.
"You speak to my daughter so familiarly".
"That's because we are…very familiar…with each other".
The man clicked his tongue as if he made a facetious remark. Well, that was one way of letting 'The Father' know that he was dating his daughter. It wasn't the best way, granted, but really, he wasn't made for decorum, far from it actually. Yozora lifted one leg to rest his right ankle on top of his left knee in a figure four shape. He reclined back into a more comfortable slouch and laced his fingers loosly in front of him, letting them rest on his lower belly. Nakiri's father's eyes flitted down, taking stock of the implication of his sitting position and abhorrence crossed his expression, clearly unused to someone relaxed in his fearsome yet oh so magnanimous presence. Yozora gazed at Nakiri's father from beneath his dark fringe steadily.
"What is your name?".
"Mitsunaga Yozora".
"Mitsunaga…". His name rolled off his tongue as if he was learning an acquired taste. "It is an uncommon surname".
"Not that uncommon, if you know where to look".
"And where would I find more Mitsunagas then?".
"Definitely not where you'd be looking".
"Deflective. Like a politician".
"…".
Yozora slid the drinks menu across the table.
"Since you wanted to see the wine list so badly, take your pick".
A soft crescendo permeated their seating area as the restaurant cautiously resumed business as usual. The dull clink and clatter of cutlery, and fervent whispers and murmurs of the patrons managed to drown out the toxic miasma that leeched into the building by Nakiri's Father. Although he could still hear the undertones of the Sendawara Sisters shrill indignation. A young and skittish waiter crept up from beside the large monstera plant, awkwardly shifting from one foot to another near their table, no longer knowing how to be professional in this outlandish and awkward circumstance. Yozora paid him no further mind and neither did Nakiri's father.
"I'll have a glass of the 2004 Hacienda López de Haro".
"Sparkling water for me".
"Y-Yes. I'll come back with y-your drinks uh…shortly…". The waiter scampered away.
The tension returned and neither of them spoke for a long time. Nakiri's Father broke the silence first.
"Do you always speak in riddles? I can't imagine what my daughter would see in you", he said casually.
"We don't really do much talking". Yozora licked his teeth.
A vein twitched on the man's temple, then it smoothed over.
"Be that as it may, you are wholly unworthy of her, much less even breathe the same air. Whatever you and Erina feel for each other, it isn't real anyway. Teenagers experimenting with their youth, nothing more. Now that I'm here, I suggest that you do her and yourself a favour and cease your interactions and put this fling behind you. My Erina will have no time to waste on silly little things like high-school romance".
"Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast yet love breaks through and picks them all at last".
"Shakespeare. Is your riddling meant to impress me?".
"Counsel you, actually".
Nakiri's Father snorted. An ugly grin deformed his mouth, and he revealed his pearly white teeth before they were hidden again by his thin lips.
"Since you like word games so much. How about a little test to see the limits of how dextrous you are with them. For the duration of our conversation, confine yourself to one-word answers only, if you are up for it".
Yozora was thoughtful for a moment. He wanted to play games? He would play.
That's what video-gamers do.
That's what strategists do.
"Why?".
"Truth is singular and lies are words, words, words and more words. I invite you not to hide behind your words as that's what cowards and con artists do. Which are you?".
Yozora protracted his tongue against his hard palate.
"Politician".
Nakiri's father quirked an amused brow.
"I was right. This game suits you. I admire how you take on my challenge. You think you can win this don't you? But I assure you, all that bravado and foolish confidence is sorely misplaced. What year are you in, Mitsunaga-kun?".
"First".
"What is your culinary style?"
"Multi-sensory".
"How is your family affiliated with the Japanese food industry?".
"None".
"Then why are you here?".
"Change".
The tension pulsed back and forth. Nakiri's Father absorbed his words and he could see a sadistic delight shimmer in the dark abyss of his eyes.
"Why are you interested in Erina?".
"Kindness".
He scoffed. "My daughter is not kind".
"No?".
"I crushed that useless sentiment out of her. You don't win battles with kindness. You win it with unforgiving standards. She stands above all of you and doesn't meddle in the affairs of the peasants".
"Wrong".
Drinks suddenly appeared on the table. Yozora was so engrossed in this warped tete-te-tete that he didn't even notice the waiter was back with Nakiri's Father's wine and his sparkling water. His drink fizzled and popped, almost comical in the way it contrasted with the beautiful and deep crimson of the red wine in the large bordeux glass. He watched as Nakiri's father lightly lifted it by the stem with small circular motions causing a gentle maelstrom to release the aromatic vapours and dipped his whole nose into the glass. He inhaled then took a measured sip. His pale cheeks rippled as he sampled and savoured the Spanish concoction. He released a gratified hum. Yozora took out the complimentary straw out of his glass and placed it on the table. He sipped slowly straight from the wet glass itself.
"Good?" he tilted his glass at Nakiri.
"Excellent. My daughter has the proper education and has selected superb wine. Good to know that the teachings I instilled in her hasn't gone away. My methods are foolproof. There is no way she'd forget a single thing from me. In fact, all her success thus far is all because of me. Her God's Tongue is superior to all, and it is my doing. She will lead the gourmet food world with me by her side. The Institute has fallen into a deplorable state, and I can no longer bare it. That is why I have come. To return it to its true glory, to the way it was meant to be. All these customers in this restaurant claim to be experts in fine dining, but I wonder. How many of them truly understand real gourmet?".
Yozora narrowed his eyes.
"True gourmet. It is high art, much the same as fine paintings, sculptures, and performances. The true value of any artistic masterpiece can only be appreciated by those chosen few of proper breeding, talent, and upbringing. The rest of the unwashed masses simply crowd around what their betters have deemed to be of value, adulating over it with no actual comprehension of what it is. True gourmet is precisely the same. It is meant to be displayed to only those select few who can truly grasp its greatness. That is fine cuisine. Anything else isn't even cuisine. It's not even food"
He took another sip.
"It's fodder. Do you understand what I am saying to you?".
"Words".
Yozora relished in how the manic lustre that danced in Nakiri's eyes devolved into disbelief and then annoyance. The soft squeak of his leather gloves as it gripped the thin stem of his wine glass betrayed an entirely new emotion that made him uglier. Frustration. He sensed that the game was terminated now. Yozora bet that the man wasn't counting on this friction on his first day back at Tootsuki for such a spectacular homecoming entrance. Yozora mentally scoffed. This man loved the sound of his own voice too much. He'd seen men like him before. His stare pinned him down, intense and drowning and Yozora let it bypass him. Nothing about this man commanded any awe or respect from him, so why should it affect him in the slightest? He refused to grant him any reaction aside from indifference.
Suddenly, distant movement from the front door of the restaurant hanging on his periphery momentarily snatched his attention away, but he made sure his vigilant eyes didn't move a single muscle, careful not to alert the man for any change in his demeanour. Instead, he re-oriented his girlfriend's dinner menu, which was still left on the table, and slid it in front of the man opposite him.
"Have some dinner too", said Yozora. The mood shifted to become lighter but still tenuous upon his invitation. "I recommend the Watermelon Aquachile with Scallop and Coconut Granita for the entrée and the Charred Cabbage with Smoked Trout Beurre Blanc and Pork Fat Pangrattato for the main".
Nakiri's Father perused the menu as if he didn't hear a single thing. His soulless eyes listlessly scanned across then down. While he took his time, Yozora afforded one eye towards the door, just as Hayato-kun and Yukihira entered the space quiet as mice. Good, Hayato-kun received his text message in time. The blonde gamer-chef was still dressed in his unbuttoned chef's uniform while Yukihira was still in his diner shirt but had already removed his forehead sash and was carrying a hujiao bing. Both looked haggard, but revitalised at the same time, like gym-rats who were running high on endorphins after cross-fit. It didn't take long for his blonde best friend's superb eyesight to spot him from across the expansive restaurant even though he was partially covered by the monstera leaves. Hayato-kun elbowed Yukihira who was gawking at the opulent designs then he quickly caught onto the situation and looked over to Yozora's direction too, concern written in his aureate gaze. Hayato-kun lifted his smartphone into the air and pointed to it a few times, signalling to Yozora to expect an incoming communication. Then he began typing. Yozora surreptitiously removed his phone from his pocket but kept it under the table. He stayed his other eye on Nakiri's father who was completely oblivious, still going through Nakiri's dinner menu. He glanced down to see the original message he'd sent for Hayato-kun to bring himself and Yukihira to Nakiri's booth pronto but keep it quiet because she was having a PTSD response to her estranged father's abrupt return. Yozora knew Hayato-kun would understand the seriousness of the message immediately and knew exactly how he needed to conduct himself, as he'd gone through PTSD a long time ago as well. Based on how Yukihira was mimicking Hayato-kun's non-descript behaviour and stealthy movements to not draw attention in the restaurant room, his best friend must've briefed him before high-tailing it up The Slopes. Sweat started to form on the back of his neck. Yozora struggled to maintain his calm breathing as his eyes strained from monitoring Nakiri's father as well as watch out for Hayato-kun's text. He poised his trembling thumbs over the keypad ready to type in a response. He watched the little speech bubble with the ellipsis showing that Hayato-kun was typing, with bated breath.
What do you need us to do?
She's in the kitchen with Arato.
Get her out of here quietly.
I have him distracted.
He saw Hayato-kun read the message with Yukhira looking over his shoulder to read as well. They both looked up at him from across the restaurant and nodded in tandem with determination before they started their silent mission through the restaurant, making sure to hug the wall, doing their best to stay out of the restaurant patron's notice until they disappeared around the corner, which lead to the kitchen. Yozora allowed himself to slowly relax again, his heart thumping unforgivingly in his ribcage. That's one thing down. He slid his phone back into his pocket just in time as Nakiri's Father looked up from the menu and he took another sip of wine. Yozora echoed his action with his sparkling water.
"Since you think you know Erina so well. Humour me, what does she think of her father?".
"That you're abusive, manipulative, parasitic, poisonous and a sorry excuse of a parent".
"Did she now?"
"More or less".
"And let me guess. You think you are her protector and her salvation".
"Just the boyfriend".
"Well then boyfriend. I change my mind. I'll allow you some time to say your heartfelt goodbye to her because after tonight you will be expelled".
"What?"
He must be joking. Yozora scoffed and laughed at the same time. His lips curved into a humourless snarl at the absurdity of it. Who did this son of a bitch think he was? Somebody must have forgotten to tell him that as an excommunicated Nakiri, he held no power here. He imagined his exclamation manifesting in ten feet high hiragana with light bulbs around the edges. Yet, he sat there with a triumphant smirk on his face and Yozora started to gradually feel like he was listening in on a private joke, which was not reassuring. Although the man was clearly deranged in his cooking philosophy, he was still extremely articulate, a sign of intelligence underlining his megalomania. Before him was the epitome of calm and unburdened majesty which put a lot of the nobility he'd come across to shame. It was a weird but unsubstantiated threat, yet that bad feeling from earlier came back twice fold anyway. His gut told him his announced expulsion might not be the empty threat he thought it was… He furrowed his brow, his azure eyes blazing at Nakiri's father who essentially jeered at him. Yozora managed to keep a leash on his confusion, so as not to show weakness. He had to find a way to regain the high ground.
A stroke of light flashed from their window. It casted a wide slit over Nakiri's father face before it disappeared. The growing rumbling of engines broke through the air and Yozora couldn't help but quickly cast his eyes out into the dark only to be greeted with rows of strong headlights. He automatically squinted from the stinging and just like that, Nakiri's father rose from his seat and abandoned this wine.
"And here he comes", he chuckled.
Who? Yozora's body followed him at a safe distance. Everything inside him was on edge and finally he let his confusion take over. Clearly, Nakiri's father interest in him had waned. He left the restaurant with Yozora picking up the pace until both were out in the blackest of night that hugged the skin. Those high-beams were light house beams. A semi-circle of all-black high-performance cars caged him in like a pack of panthers. A tall figure emerged from the centre one in a flurry of dark-green fabric. His silouette was as demonic as his title.
Nakiri Senzaemon.
"Well, well. I was about to pay you a visit. In all propriety, I should be the one to go to you. But to have you came all this way to see me? Father, it is an honour".
Yozora gulped at the doorway. Nakiri-dono had the eyes of a raging gale on his wizened face. His aging yet strong gaze could tear buildings apart and he aimed it all at Nakiri's Father. His voice dripped with condescension and such disrespect that had the gamer chef's hand itching to punch him in the face. Both stood on the hallowed grounds of Tootsuki acting as attacker and defender rather than parent and child. Yozora observed the situation with a mixture of apprehension and hope that The Director would sort this piece of shit out.
"Leave. You have no right to set foot within these walls".
His low voice boomed. Great strength slammed into Yozora's ears and reached his sensitive soul. His deep and sonorous back-hand to Nakiri's father was as furious as his stormy expression. His huge stature dwarfed the intruder and waves of rage crashed down from his impervious being. The Director's protection service spewed from the other cars and swarmed around them. But Nakiri's father insolent grin remained defiant in the face of the great demonic chef.
"I thought I had made it clear. You were never to lay claim to the Nakiri name again, Azami".
Nakiri…Azami…
"I don't think so. It was I who trained Erina's God's tongue. I who polished her skills to this degree. Exile me if you wish, but blood and breeding do not disappear so easily".
"My greatest failure… was leaving Erina in your care during that time".
"Then it appears that we have both failed. Had I been here, Tootsuki would not be in this pitiable state it is now".
"You know not of what you speak. At the Tootsuki Academy, cooking is everything. As long as the students have enough skill, anyone can rise to the top".
"Foolishness! When fostering a new generation of of true gourmet, allowing an excess of inferior students to remain is the height of folly".
"We are not the ones who make that decision. The ones who decide the future of the Tootsuki Academy are its best and brightest young chefs. Rant and rail all you wish. For you alone can change nothing".
"You're right".
Nakiri's father pulled a large accordian document out of his inner breast pocket and threw it at Nakiri-dono's feet. Yozora immediately drew his eyes downward, more confusion and a spike of fear and desperate need to know what that document was about gripping his brain. Suddenly the strangest sense of wrong clicked into his brain. The elderly man's attendant rushed forward and scooped it up to hand it to The Director so he needn't bend. He unfolded it like a newspaper, his great mustache rustled as he growled low and threateningly. His sharp old eyes morphed into shock. What was on that document?
He craned his neck to see if he could read the otherside.
'Tootsuki Academy Elite Ten Council Notice of Urgent Summons…?'.
Yozora started to low-key panic.
"The Elite Ten Council has certainly helped me transition into this endevour. As you know, dear Father, its members depending upon their seat rank have varying degrees of discretionary powers. As a whole, they are the highest decision-making body within Tootsuki. The coucil has made critical decisions regarding the operations of Tootsuki innumerable times in the past. They hold power equal to, if not even greater than that of the Director of the institute himself. In fact, whatever a majority of the council's members wish… becomes the will of the Institute as a whole".
Shit. Fuck. Oh. Bollocks. FUCK.
"The council is in favour of a new revolution. Out with the old, in with the new. By this time tomorrow, all shall be complete. Japan's greatest kingdom of gourmet has a new King".
Yozora felt bile rise to his throat. How quickly his shock turned into true hatred. He let the emotion swallow him and pour acid into his soul. He fought for control, any reason to remain where he was. The ominous and unforgiving tracking of danger close behind him caught up with him and a cold and calloused hand gripped his heart and squeezed until he couldn't breathe. For the love of Kami-sama, no.
"And that would be me".
The cortisol that was rapidly rising in his body began to do a number on him. Yozora gripped the door jamb so hard his circulation cut off. He struggled to process this new reality thrust upon him. This monster was going to be the new director of Tootsuki Academy. This evil man was back in Nakiri's life?! All her nightmares were coming at once. He gritted his teeth so hard it was in danger of cracking. Also, why the fuck?! It didn't make any sense! Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulders, snapping him out of his cloud of spiralling fury.
"Yo-kun!".
"Oi, Mitsunaga!".
"We took her out through the back and placed her in Polar Star Dorms".
His friends were back and suddenly, he was grounded again. Their voices were muffled as if he was underwater, but as he steadied himself, they became clear once the fogginess went away. Yukihira had an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face while Hayato-kun's were highly alert and frantic. They were both huffing and puffing from running back. Sweat plastered their hair to their foreheads. He trusted that Nakiri was safe for the time being because if there was anyone he could trust with his girlfriend's safety in this school, then it would be Hayato-kun and Yukihira. Hayato-kun was loyal and Yukihira cared for all with no hidden agendas. Nakiri's closest friends who were Arato and Nakiri Alice, he was dubious about them. He found the energy to lift his hand and squeezed Hayato-kun's, while Yukihira cooly stepped around him to observe Nakiri-dono's and Nakiri's Father stand off. The round printed symbol of his family's diner on the back of his dark shirt took up Yozora's view. Its traditional calligraphy font brought a sense of calm stability and comfort to red-head had his arms crossed over his chest as he stood like an immovable rock, watching with little reaction as Nakiri's Father pulled out more documents from his coat and flouting it in Nakiri-dono's face. The great pillar of strength that Nakiri's grandfather had always stood for was chipped away by one stapled promise of redundancy at a time as he stood powerless against his banished son-in-law's cruel usurpation.
"What's happening here, Mitsunaga?" asked Yukihira.
"Nakiri's Father has been appointed to become the new Director of Tootsuki".
"Woah! That creep?", he asked back in disbelief.
"Yeah".
"Shit! What are we going to do? What's Nakiri going to do? How are we gonna save her?", whispered Hayato-kun.
"I dunno. But he said he was going to expel me".
"What for?".
"For fraternizing with Nakiri, of course".
"He can't do that! Dating another student, even if it's his daughter, isn't grounds for expulsion ", replied Hayato-kun.
"Tootsuki's policies on suspensions and expulsions are pretty whack compared to other private schools. I wouldn't put it pass him to re-write the school policy to include 'no-one is allowed to date Nakiri Erina', just to get rid of me".
"Don't you guys think there's another problem to worry about?", interrupted Yukihira.
"What?".
"Your sealed student files? The ones you said is sealed and is for Director's eyes only. Well, this guy will have access to it now".
FUCK.
How could that slip his mind! His thoughts had been all over Nakiri and her welfare, he didn't even think about his and Hayato-kun's own safety. A full-blown panic rocked him again and his vision started to spiral. Under no circumstances must that vile and opportunistic monster see his file! Hayato-kun's file wasn't as devastating and advantageous as his, but nonetheless it was damaging. Yukihira rarely displayed his astute acumen as his friendly, energetic and optimistic personality tended to outshine his more subtle qualities. It reminded Yozora of how much of a valuable ally and friend he had in this unconventional maverick chef. He had correctly pointed out the worst possible outcome aside from Nakiri Erina being under the same roof as her abuser again.
"Don't worry, Yo-kun's Father will fix it. Won't he, Yo-kun?", Hayato-kun beseeched.
"Right now he's overseas and I don't think I should bother him".
"What are you talking about? He's already back in the country".
"Huh? Since when? How did you know?".
"Uh… It's all over the news. Didn't you know?".
"No".
"This is why you need to watch the news, Yo-kun".
"I don't like the news. It's too depressing".
"Anyway, your Father is back in the country, so you know that that means?… He'll pay you a visit soon".
.
.
.
.
.
.
Two Weeks Later
News of what had happened had spread like wild fire. That night admist all the confusion, Yozora, Hayato-kun and Yukihira had to leave before Nakiri Azami could round on him. They had slipped through the back of Nakiri's booth kitchens. He'd made one last phonecall for that night. He called that little devil of a Cracker, his NPC, to dig up any information, any dirt on Nakiri Azami. He wanted to know all the details and events leading up to his return to Tootuski.
Who his friends were.
His associates and allys.
Who his enemies were.
Every skeleton in his closet.
Every business dealing.
Where he shopped.
Every country he'd visited.
His income tax return.
Medical history.
Educational history.
Any criminal records.
How he took his tea and coffee.
Where he slept, ate and shitted.
Everything.
Daily life at Tootsuki Academy didn't change. Everything appeared to be exactly as it was before. Almost eerily so. The abrupt transition in Directorship soured the atmosphere for most students but they persevered and trudged along, not being able to do much. The lecturers were also apprehensive as they were still awaiting instruction from the educational board as a new Director meant changes to the curriculum. The handover process was still taking time.
Yozora stirred his coffee slowly. The sides of the teaspoon clinked rhythmically against the side of the ceramic cup. The aromatic drink was a new blend that the Barista and the Coffee Roaster had been working on for weeks. He wished he could say that he enjoyed it but the cluster fuck everyone was in made it difficult for him to do so. He enjoyed the quietness of Hyouheki Kissaten and in fact it was one of his favourite dives to hang out and collect his mind. It was out of the main-strip meaning that only the people who knew about the place, would know where to go. That was how the cafe liked it. Azami Nakiri hadn't made good on his promise to expel him the next day of his tragic arrival, but he felt it was only a matter of time and the man definitely hadn't forgotten. It was probably another mind game. Keep him on tenterhooks so he'd never know when he'd be expelled, always watch his back, but at the same the impending doom would always be snapping at his heels. He was trying to prey on Yozora's anxiety so the gamer-chef begrudingly awarded him points for that because it was actually working. The man was plotting and planning, he could feel it. It infuriated him to no end that this bastard got his way just like that. Even if Yozora wasn't the new Director's top priority. Yozora would try to make it so.
'I need his focus to keep straying from Nakiri to me. That way she might be spared the brunt of his cruelty'.
He'd caught wind that Arato was dismissed from her duties as Nakiri's right hand woman. He was cutting her off from her friends. The rosette-haired medicinal chef was utterly distraught to the point that he'd seen her wandering like a zombie on campus, her only purpose in life stolen.
"How's Nakiri doing in Polar Star?", he asked.
Opposite him, sharing his table, Isshiki-senpai granted him a tight and weary smile. He was served the same blend of coffee which he was nursing in his hand. He'd been wearing his school uniform more often and he continued to be picture perfect with his radiant smile, calm, steady, strong and welcoming personality reflecting his true calling as Polar Star Dorm's leader. This was Isshiki-senpai's first time at Hyouheki Kissaten, so the Barista allowed him to have his first cup free of charge for being here with Yozora.
"She's fine. Still shaken on most days. She doesn't attend classes but stays in the dormitory like a run-away I suppose. Arato-san visits frequently to bring her things and changes of clothes. Nakiri Alice and Kurokiba-kun visit all the time. Nakiri Azami hasn't made any motions or paid any heed over the fact that his daughter is not turning up to school or living in Nakiri Manor. He just attends meetings, conferences, gives televised speeches and interviews with different journalists about his new plans for the Japanese gourmet food industry".
"That's because he already knows she's in Polar Star Dorm and doesn't need her right now", speculated Yozora.
"Perhaps".
"I'm sorry for burdening your dorm with the task of harbouring Nakiri, Isshiki-senpai".
"It's perfectly fine. The other students were apprehensive for the first week or so. But once Ginsekai-kun and Yukihira-kun explained the situation and Arato-san explained Nakiri-kun's past with her father, they understood. Now they're all getting along well. They've even taken up requesting her to taste their dishes one after another, and Nakiri has been providing them with constructive criticism that leans more on the positive reinforcement side which I'm delighted to say".
Yozora smiled. He was right. Nakiri Erina had kindness. It had always been there in her heart, just locked away. The shadow and coldness in her had lifted and like a typical late bloomer, she'd been confused about the changes going on inside and around her, and regulating her prickly and snipping behaviour was quite the learning experiene for her. Yozora saw that she kept trying to be kind and eventually she found her feet. Ever since he'd met her, she showed him little by little her heart.
He really did love her.
"Yukihira might finally get his chance for her to call his dish delicious then", said Yozora.
"Oh I doubt that", chuckled Isshiki-senpai.
He imagined the whole lot of them lining up like kids taking turns in handing in their homework to their teacher, waiting for a sticker. Hayato-kun knew Polar Star was the best environement for helping Nakiri, which was where he and Yukihira-kun immediately took her to after her encounter with her father at the Moon Banquet Festival. It was because the students there were a phenominally supportive, funny, loving, caring and strong. The two boys even asked Arato to go back to the Nakiri manor and pack her luggage for her and bring it back to Polar Star as Yukihira and Hayato-kun urged that she hide in the dormitory as long as she could.
"Was it true that a majority of the Elite Ten Council agreed to this?", he asked.
Yozora languidly flipped over the cover of the latest edition of Tootsuki Sports that he'd brought with him and tapped it with his middle finger. It's glossy cover was shrill as always. Splashed across was Nakiri Azami's duplicitous face and the bolded captions of how he was Tootsuki's new Director. It mocked him from the table. The two-page spread article deserved to be printed in blood and his photograph was framed just badly enough to be annoying.
"I'm just as surprised as you are, Mitsunaga-kun. I'd never thought there would be someone willing to go around ingratiating himself with a majority of the Elite Ten Council to get himself appointed as Director", replied Isshiki-senpai.
"And so they up and turned coat, just like that?".
"From a bureaucratic standpoint, there's no problem with it. The proposal itself followed all the proper procedures from beginning to end".
True. Nakiri once explained to him that the directorship was a position traditionally held by the head of the Nakiri clan. So it wouldn't be all that unusual for another Nakiri to take over the spot. The whole school had accepted it, but was just surprised by the suddeness of it.
"Did anyone approach you or bribe you for your vote, Isshiki-senpai?".
"No. But I imagined most of us were. To ensure enough votes, they would've done their research on all of us and would be shrewed enough to gain an audience with those they were certain who craved a new dawn for Tootsuki".
"Right". He took a sip of his coffee.
"This may just be the calm before the storm", continued Isshiki-senpai.
"What do you mean?".
"Before, power at Tootsuki had been divided by individual interests. Now a big portion of it is all going in the same direction. Anybody who goes against the flow risks getting pegged as an enemy of the institute. And any enemy of the institute is an enemy of the Elite Ten Council".
Yozora licked his teeth. He thought of Hayato-kun, Yukihira, Polar Star Dorm, the Aldini brothers, Mito Ikumi, Arato, heck, even Hayama Akira and Kurokiba Ryou. His classmates weren't the type to lie down and show their bellies to this new tyrant. Together, they could be powder kegs of disruption at different levels of the school. All they would need was a simple provocation. Everything was becoming closely monitored by these new 'black suits' with their intimidating black lens glasses that patrolled every square-footage of the grounds. It was too difficult to make any ripples or even just to be oneself without garnering a head turn from them, or a quick press to their ear-pieces. His classmates were bow-strings so taut and quivering. A slip, and a stray arrow would fly and who knew what would happen.
Unless… they had the right hand to release them…
Then there was the matter of his and Hayato-kun's sealed student files.
Had Nakiri Azami accessed them yet?
When he did, would he tell Nakiri about its contents?
If he'd read them, Yozora would've been summoned to his office by now. Or perhaps it was another part of his hideous game. He didn't want to find out. If there was even just the smallest chance that Nakiri Azami hadn't gotten to his and Hayato-kun's file yet because he'd been busy with all the other more important handovers from Nakiri Senzaemon's chief of staff for the runnings of the institute, then he'd need to find a way to get their sealed student file back.
Yozora skimmed his dry lips slowly against the rim of his almost finished cup of coffee, back and forth as his glowing blue eyes stared into the distance, mulling over his thoughts.
"Yukihira-kun said the strangest thing the other day", said Isshiki-senpai.
"What about?".
"Something about your Father".
Yozora stilled his movements. He looked at Isshiki Satoshi directly in the eyes.
"He was talking with Ginsekai-kun when he was visiting the dorm. Asking him about who your Father was. Only Ginsekai-kun said he wasn't allowed to say".
"I'm pretty sure that would've been a private conversation between Yukihira and Hayato-kun. Were you eavesdropping using those big trumpet-things?".
"Of course I did. Now another question. By any chance would the contents of your sealed student file have anything to do with your Father?".
Isshiki Satoshi's fake smile was the best and the worst. It lifted up only slightly at the corners, but his icy blue eyes said it all. They burned into Yozora. His throat tightened. The cunning seventh seater crinkled the corners of the eyes just a little bit, like a rapacious fox lifting it's saliva coated lips from it's sharp teeth only more cute. He stared unapolegetically.
"How do you know about the files?",
"I overheard—".
"You eavesdropped—",
"Semantics. I overheard one of the Archive Administrators complaining about four students whose digital student records were encrypted and couldn't be actioned nor openned without a password. They were tasked with moving student files into the upgraded server, you see. They spoke aloud Ishikagaku Kasai, Yuujou Tsurugi, Ginsekai Hayato and your name".
"You can easily ask my senpais about their files. It's not really a secret anymore. But I think we need to have this chat about mine on the down-low between me, Hayato-kun, you, Yukihira and Nakiri".
"There is no time like the present. Let's go back to Polar Star Dorm, and you can tell us everthing".
"Sorry, Isshiki-senpai not today. I wanna stick around and clear my head for a bit".
"Alright. Don't keep away for too long. Nakiri-kun might start missing you".
Yozora only offered him a wry smile.
He took the hint. Isshiki-senpai stood up gracefully in one fluid motion and bid him goodbye with a bright but guarded smile on his face. Yozora watched him go out the door and then down the street. The seventh-seater had drunk all of his coffee, so The Barista would be happy to see that. While his was still half-full. He swirled the contents lazily in his cup, the dark brown slide along the edges leaving a trail of as it went. He counted the minutes that passed, his mind for once just empty as he stared at the hypnotic back and forth of his poor, undrunk coffee. The dark-haired gamer-chef stared at the abstract painting on the wall, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the cheap grandfather clock pendulum swinging in its belly. His pair of NPCs had found it a couple of months ago in a second-hand shop and snapped it up for the cafe. They had weird tastes.
He had no idea how long he stared at the splashes of colour and squiggles.
Then there was the light clink of the bell.
He looked up.
Familiar dark maroon eyes greeted him.
"Hello. It has been a while, bocchan. You look very well".
"Hi Mikaeri-san. What are you doing here?".
He was a tall and handsome British-Japanese man who's facade was objectively flawless. His dark hair was sleek and darker than oil as it framed his face and fanned against his neck. His skin was the kind of white that could even enchant snow. He had a delicate and angular face and high cheekbone that teetered dangerously on androgenous if not for his physique which was trimmed and atheletic under his black suit and tie. In all his life that Yozora knew him, Mikaeri-san was the epitome of self confidence and never saw the value of blending in. Even going as far as to bestow him that ridiculous nick-name bocchan unbecoming as one of his station, as if he was a butler instead of one hell of a bodyguard. He'd figured he let his reputation precede him, the fact and the fiction. His strategy was to become a legend and let that elevate him.
It was exactly why his Father personally appointed him to be on his security detail.
"Your Father wishes to catch up with you and I'm here as your escort".
"Right, and how's it going?".
"Good, I'm glad to be back in Japan. The work of Section One of the Security Police is never dull".
"Especially when protecting my Father, right?".
"Indeed. Your Father can be a menace over-seas, when not in front of journalists of course. Occasionally I wish I could be re-deployed back to Section Two, instead of being in Section One".
"My Father walks with a cane. As if he could get up to anything".
"The reason is precisely the cane. Your Father weilds it frighteningly enough to not really need any of us to protect him, but rather protect the press from him".
Yozora chuckled. He got up while Mikaeri-san opened the cafe door. A gust of window whipped through. Yozora called out to the back the cafe only for The Coffee Roaster to loudly and cheerily return her goodbyes as The Barista had already left. Once he stepped out into the cold, just down the quiet road, he already spotted the trail of black Nissans lining the street, practically double parking and the whole damn road blocked off.
In the middle was the familiar Lexus LS.
His Father's car.
Yozora's sighed. Wow, he was pulling all the stops and making an effort to pick up his own son directly from the cafe didn't he. It would've been much easier to send someone else to pick him up and drive him to his Father at his residence. It must've caused his staff and security detail a headache to pull that off, just so that he could literally pick him up. It had been two whole weeks since his flight had landed back in the Japan and all he got was a handful of phone calls from the man asking about his well-being. He understood that his work was demanding and never stopped, and he was incredibly busy so he appreciated it all the same. They had their chats, although sometimes truncated by someone interrupting their phone conversations with something that neded his Father's urgent attention. He'd take what he could get. So Yozora was completely stumped to see his Father's vehicle sitting in the middle of the street with his motorcade, just for him.
"I thought you said you're escorting me".
"I am. Down the foot path, straight to the car and into his open arms. Off you pop".
Then he'd better make it fast. He pulled his book bag higher onto his shoulder and walked briskly towards the Lexus LS with Mikaeri-san on his heels.
'Now is a good time to personally tell him I have a girlfriend, right?'.
.
.
.
This is the last foreshadowing I'm giving about who Yozora's Father is before the reveal. I've peppered some references a few times in past chapters so I can't wait to reveal it for those who haven't yet guessed ;)
Oof. Yozora's personality and thought processes has shifted into something darker and more calculating than we've seen in this story. Had this side of him always been there? Or has it evolved due to the circumstances at Tootsuki?
Just to be clear, I differentiate cooking style, culinary skill, and cooking philosophy/ethos from each other in this story. If you're not sure what is Yozora's position is between those three things or don't quite remember, refer back to Chapter 17 – Over the Waves where Mimasaka breaks down Yozora's entire character as part of his stalker research at the beginning of the chapter when they were about to battle in the Autumn ElectionsShokugeki. Basically, the 'video-game music inspired cooking' The Guild does is just a theme to help Kasai-senpai, Tsurugi-senpai, Yozora and Hayato channel their musicality, hobby, creativity and their artistic sides. "Video-game inspired cooking" is what the other students see on the outside as a generic label and is just the easiest thing for The Guild boys to say to other students without going into too much detail. But underneath that, Yozora's cooking philosophy/ethos is that 'food must tell a story', which coincidentally is like a video game. The cooking methodology/style Yozora is versed in to exemplify that cooking ethos is multi-sensory cooking which is like Nakiri Alice. Mimasaka was the first person who pointed that out because he actually took the time to study Yozora's skill. You can see how multi-faceted and complex his recipes are whenever I describe his cooking scenes because it's so multi-sensory. Finally, the top culinary skill he possesses that is described at different points in the story is his ambidextrous knife-work. Because piano-hands, why not.
So here we are at the beginning of the Central Arc. HERE WE GO BOYS AND GIRLS. IT'S GOING TO BE A WICKED RIDE.
Until next time, stay happy and healthy, keep safe and I will see you again soon!
Signing-off
- TripWire-dono