"Everyone, welcome to this year's first Shokugeki! It's a match for the ages to start off the school year, as we're going straight into a match between two top members of Tōtsuki's Factions. It's a Silver versus Gold fight to determine overall rankings! Now, if our two competitors could please approach the arena!"
Megumi walked into Chandra's Room to massive cheering as a student from one of Tōtsuki's partner academies, a high school focused on producing alumni that would transition into work in the hospitality field, stepped forward onto a rising platform. One such student was always contracted to help commentate over Shokugeki, but Megumi recognized this particular girl from the other school's student council, having worked with her on arrangements for both schools at Tōtsuki Resort's Training Camp. She nodded to her respectfully and received a smile in return.
"On the north end: Kobayashi Rindō, the Brave Barbarian of the kitchen! Third-year student, current Third Seat, and widely acknowledged as the Silver Faction's queen!"
Rindō pouted at her introduction. "'Barbarian', please. How crass; I'd hoped they'd switched to something more exciting."
"To be fair, you're quite fearsome in the kitchen, Kobayashi-chan," Megumi pointed out.
"Approaching her from the south, the challenger Tadokoro Megumi, critic-proclaimed Food's Demeter! Fellow third-year student, current Fourth Seat, and second-in-command of the Gold Faction!"
"Ooh, that's a new one, Tadokoro-san," Rindō said. "Wasn't it 'Yokai of the Countryside' just last year?"
Megumi smiled. "Well, I do like the implications of Demeter a bit more than yokai," she admitted. "She feels more put-together."
"Challengers, you are competing today over your Elite Ten seats. The winner of this Shokugeki will gain the title of Third Seat while the loser will become Fourth Seat. You will not be able to challenge each other over the outcome for a month after this Shokugeki is called, and the results will not affect your placement within your Faction. Neither student is wagering their position on the Elite Ten altogether, and as such you cannot be removed from the council over the results today. After two hours, you will be allowed to call in a sous chef to help wrap up anything you've already started, but they may not start preparing anything else. Are you ready?"
The two third-years nodded.
"Start the count-down! Chefs, when the gong sounds, you may start cooking!"
The crowd began to roar, counting down along with the host.
"Three!"
Megumi cleared her mind, zoning out the crowd and focusing on Rindō.
"Two!"
Rindō winked in acknowledgment. "May the best chef win," she said.
"One!"
Megumi bowed to her. "May the best chef win," she echoed.
Someone slammed on the gong, sending a loud, reverberating note soaring above the crowd, and Megumi ran for her station. The crowd roared as the two students flew into their prep work.
"YEAH! GO, GO, GO TADOKORO-SENPAI!" Yūki screamed over the din, leaping to her feet. "SHOW HER WHAT YOU LEARNED FROM YOUR TIME AT POLAR STAR!"
Sōmei flinched at the volume of her voice, his hand clenching around the hilt of his sword. "I'm starting to regret my choice in accepting your invitation," he muttered to Takumi. He'd been convinced to accompany the Polar Star dorm members to the Faction Shokugeki, but he looked more and more like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Sorry about that." He had to raise his voice to be heard. "Yoshino-chan gets very excited."
"YOU CAN DO IT!" Daigo and Shōji leapt to their feet, waving signs of Megumi's face feverishly. "GLORY TO POLAR STAR!"
Takumi felt Sōmei's flat look leveled at him more than he saw it. "We can sit somewhere else next time," he offered.
"Hm."
"And they're off! As a reminder to our audience, Tadokoro-san and Kobayashi-san have been tasked today to present 'A Meal Worthy of the Elite'! There are no ingredient restrictions or requirements, and both chefs have four hours to cook. As mentioned earlier, they will be allowed a sous chef to join them at the halfway point; both sides have agreed that this sous chef may not be a fellow third-year, so if anyone was hoping for a full battle between the two Faction heads, you may have to wait a little longer for that spectacle.
"Now, back to the competitors: what is Kobayashi-san cooking with today? It looks like a cut of your standard lean red meat, but knowing the intrepid explorer in our midst, surely there's nothing standard about it!"
"Oh, Nishikawa-chan, now that would be telling," Rindō said to the host, winking at her. She immediately took out a cleaver that she tossed in the air with a quick twist of her wrist as if accustoming herself to its weight. She grabbed what looked like a long fork in the other hand and began dicing the meat in front of her expertly, holding it down with the fork and bringing down the cleaver with incredible force.
"Yoshino-chan, do you know what kind of meat Kobayashi-senpai is using?" Ryōko asked as she leaned over to Yūki. "I've never seen anything like it."
"I mean, it sort of looks like venison," Yūki said hesitantly. "I don't know any other meats as lean as that looks."
"Surely if it was venison, she'd say so," Zenji said. "It's not the most exotic meat in the world."
"How mysterious! We'll have to wait and see what Kobayashi-san unveils to the judges. And on the other side, Tadokoro-san seems to have put together some kind of dough that she's chilling in the fridge. What's that? Some sort of stock packet?"
"Right in one," Megumi called back, wreathed in steam. "It's nothing too extravagant, just some bonito, herring, sardine, and kelp along with a few other ingredients." She gave her broth one final stir before putting the lid on the pot.
"Does she really think a soup can hold up to whatever is happening on Kobayashi-senpai's bench?" Shōji said. "That steak's definitely going to be worked to perfection."
Sōmei snorted derisively. "Upon what skill does he base his critique on?" he said, quietly enough that Shōji didn't hear him. "If Tadokoro-senpai has determined that her soup will be able to fight against whatever Kobayashi-senpai is preparing, then why would we know better?"
"He's just voicing what everyone else is thinking," Takumi said. "Making dough and starting a broth does feel less explosive than what Kobayashi-senpai offered as her first step, I suppose."
"Less explosive, but not less important." Takumi was starting to realize how much Sōmei seemed to love debating minutiae. "A big move doesn't necessitate a vital one."
"Tadokoro-san is finishing her broth, and it looks like Kobayashi-san is setting her meat aside— and what's this? It looks like the judges for today's Shokugeki are making their appearance now!"
The crowd's attention turned to a pair of double doors that sat at the northernmost end of the arena. People trickled out one by one, walking down the path that led them to their seats at the judges' table on the south end.
"Welcome, to our honored judges! Joining us to judge today are Is that a Kitchen's own Minatozaka Makito-sama; Director of Japan's Gourmet Society, Saotome Seishū-sama; President of the Japanese Food Industry Council, Ōizumi Kakinoshin-sama; alumna of the 70th generation and former Second Seat, Ebisawa Riko-sama; and former Tōtsuki director, Nakiri Azami-sama! It seems as though Director Nakiri-dono has gone all out in securing the best of the best to judge this match!"
Cheers soared across the arena as each judge paused to bow to the audience as they were introduced.
"Yeesh. Why did the Director invite Nakiri-san back?" Yūki grumbled. "He gives me the creeps."
Takumi peered over the railing down to the judges' table. The final person who'd walked in was a man with pale skin and the stiffest posture he'd ever seen. He was speaking with a woman sitting next to him who leaned back in her chair indolently as their conversation went on. His most notable feature was a streak of white hair that swept across his forehead in stark contrast to the black locks he otherwise sported.
"He looks younger than Director Nakiri," Takumi said. "How is he a former Director?"
"He was Tōtsuki's director two years ago," Sōmei said. His voice had dropped from its typical clipped yet polite tone into something that sounded more stark. Takumi glanced over to see him glowering at the man. "He had Director Nakiri-dono ousted from his position by majority vote from the Elite Ten and tried to implement a new cooking curriculum called Central at the school. His goal was to turn Tōtsuki into an academy that created cookie-cutter chefs who would only think with his teachings. Any naysayers were expelled on the spot or via biased Shokugeki. Almost all of the RSes were shut down for not abiding by his teachings. At a certain point, he seemed on the verge of victory. Even at the middle school, all of us understood that something big was happening at the Academy, something we didn't want to get involved in."
"Why did he leave, then?"
Sōmei's eyes slid from Nakiri Azami's face to Takumi's. "Saiba-senpai and the others in his generation fought back," he said. "Not all of them. Tsukasa-senpai was on Central's side in the beginning; it caused a huge rift between the first two Seats that hasn't fully healed even now. None of us were really told what happened, but Saiba-senpai recruited his father to come participate in a team Shokugeki against Nakiri and some of Central's top dogs. They won. Part of their spoils was that Nakiri Azami could never again become headmaster of Tōtsuki. I thought the Director kicked him out of the Nakiri family as well, but apparently not, according to that host's announcement."
"Again, a big thank you to the judges who have taken the time out of their days to oversee this Shokugeki! It's always an honor.
"Our competitors haven't put the pause in my commentary to waste! Kobayashi-san has started what I can only assume is some sort of gravy from the leftover oil used to cook her meat— it's starting to smell amazing on her side of the arena!"
"Oh, c'mon, only starting to smell amazing?" Rindō complained with a pout, not looking up from her pot. "A girl could get real discouraged by what you're saying!"
"Don't tease her, Kobayashi-chan," Megumi said through plumes of steam.
"O-of course, Kobayashi-san, my mistake." The host quickly turned to the other station. "Tadokoro-san has taken her dough out and started rolling it out— what's that in the food processor next to it? Cauliflower?"
"Not quite, I'm afraid." Megumi had thrown in a handful of roughly chopped white bulbs she'd strained from a pot along with a handful of garlic cloves, chives, ginger, and some other small bits and pieces that Takumi hadn't quite caught. The amount of work she was putting in was beginning to pile on top of her; Elite Ten or no, manning a boiling pot of broth, rolling out dough, and figuring out the precise proportions of whatever else she had decided to make was impossible for one person to do efficiently.
"Two hours remain! That means only one thing: sous chefs, attend your stations!
The doors that the judges had exited from opened once more, this time revealing only two people. Takumi easily recognized one as Satoshi, both from his careful smile and the pink apron he insisted on wearing while cooking (though Takumi noticed that he was wearing his school uniform beneath it, to his great relief). The other was a short girl whose purple hair had been styled into twin buns that resembled animal ears. She glared out at the audience from behind a large pink stuffed animal almost her size. Satoshi said something to her that had her leveling her glare on him in the following second, though he either ignored it or did not know.
"Joining Tadokoro-san is Isshiki Satoshi-san, second year and current Seventh Seat! He's immediately going over to the food processor and starting with the dough without a single word from her— does he know her workflow that well or did they discuss prior to the Shokugeki? Either way, it's clear why he's joined her today.
"On the other side of the arena, Kobayashi-san has brought out Akanegakubo Momo-san, first-year at Tōtsuki Academy. This may be a shocking choice to some, but Akanegakubo-san has already begun carving her reputation as a pastry prodigy, achieving the near-impossible and skipping a grade of middle school to start her professional training early! Kobayashi-san knows exactly where to send her as well; she's been tasked to finish up something in a bowl that was prepared earlier in the match. It still looks like both sides are deep in cooking; let's see if the judges have anything to say!"
"Oh, a first-year involved in such a big Shokugeki!" the woman introduced as Ebisawa Riko said. A sharp smile spread across her face as she watched the two girls working together. "They're so sweet, aren't they, Azami-kun? Wouldn't you have killed for the chance to work with a senpai like that?"
Azami gave her a flat look. "Of course, Ebisawa-san," he said, his tone implying anything but. "Such a training program wasn't available while we were still students, but the implementation of it was one of the positive additions to the curriculum that I decided to keep in my brief stint as Director. Giving underclassmen the chance to see just how high their potential could take them if they were put under the same scrutiny as the top students of the Academy continues the valuable cycle of creating valuable chefs for the food world—"
"Blah, blah, blah," Riko said over him. "You still talk too much."
"You asked for my opinion—"
"Oooookay, and let's check back in with the chefs!" the commentator said brightly. "We finally see what both sous chefs have been working on: Isshiki-san has been preparing dumplings with the filling that Tadokoro-san prepared earlier, and it looks like Akanegakubo-san has laid out the pastry Kobayashi-san set up on a baking tray. Still no word on what's in that filling Tadokoro-san had."
"They really want her to say what's in it, huh?" Takumi said.
"It's hard to conceptualize what it might taste like if she doesn't disclose its contents prior to judging," Sōmei commented. "With Kobayashi-senpai's mysterious ingredient, it's obvious that it's some sort of meat. Combined with what's known of her specialty, one can imagine what her dish will taste. Tadokoro-senpai hasn't given even a single hint with hers."
Satoshi had finished with a tray of dumplings, arranged them on a tray, and put them in the fridge. "Ready in thirty," he said.
"Perfect. Please be on standby to hand everything on that counter to me as I ask for it," Megumi said, tapping a pair of cooking chopsticks against the rim of the pot.
"Everything is ready to go into the oven, Rindō-senpai," Momo said as she finished plaiting the dough in front of her.
"Oh, this looks absolutely adorable, Momo-chan," Rindō cooed as she leaned over Momo's shoulder. "Let's get these into the oven, no?"
"Okay." Momo turned to her stuffed animal, which sat innocently on a counter where she'd left it. Takumi felt a strange foreboding set in as she stalked over to it.
"Both chefs seem to be wrapping up their work— now, the only competition that remains is to see who'll be the first to present to the judges!"
Takumi blinked. "Has it really been four hours?"
Sōmei shrugged. "Definitely more than three, probably not quite four. Just because they have that much time doesn't mean they'll use it all. This Shokugeki also only demanded one dish; some longer ones have historically asked for three- and five-course meals. In those cases, competitors are usually cooking up to the end of their time limits."
"The worst part about watching Shokugeki is knowing that we can't eat the food they make," Yūki complained. "It smells so good here… I want to know what Kobayashi-senpai's cooking."
"I didn't realize that Akanegakubo-san knew Kobayashi-senpai," Ryōko commented. "She seems so… put out, I guess, whenever you try to talk to her about cooking."
"Kobayashi-senpai claimed her while she was still in middle school," Shun said, finally breaking his hours of determined silence. "Part of how she was able to skip a year was because Kobayashi-senpai pulled strings with the administration so that she could formally claim her as a trainee."
"How do you know that, Ibusaki-cchi?"
"Kobayashi-senpai made Isshiki-senpai help her figure out the paperwork last year, and he showed me how it worked in case it came up again." He aimed a rare scowl at her. "And don't call me that."
"Wah! You're so, so mean to me—"
Takumi zoned out their squabbling and turned back to the arena.
A timer dinged.
"Almost done! We'll serve in a minute," Rindō said gleefully, pulling her pie out of the oven.
"Rindō-senpai, you have to cool for at least five minutes to let the filling set," Momo said, sounding bored. She set aside oven mitts that looked strangely like her stuffed animal's front paws, which were also suspiciously missing.
"Oh! My mistake, thank you Momo-chan," Rindō said, poking her cheek. Momo gave her an unimpressed look.
"That's fine, I'll need at least fifteen minutes to finish," Megumi said, giving her soup a stir. "You're more than welcome to serve first when you're ready. Isshiki-kun, please get everything ready for presentation."
"That's so sweet of you, Tadokoro-chan!" Rindō said. "Momo-chan, please show the judges what we've made for them."
Momo silently picked up three of the prepared dishes and began serving the judges without a word. Rindō picked up the final two and carried them over, still speaking.
"What we have for you today are personalized steak pies," she said, laying them out. "If you appreciate how they look, please direct all of your compliments to my darling little Momo-chan."
Momo reddened and furiously looked away as the judges' eyes rested on her. "When your food is cute, it tastes better," she muttered.
"There is some psychological basis to that," Saotome said. "When approaching a dish, you usually expect it to taste as good as it looks; ergo, something that is pleasantly presented is generally regarded as being more flavorful."
"This is at the very least a very interesting looking pie," Minatozaka added. "It looks like some sort of swan or crane, with most of the pie making up the body."
"Well, as beautiful as it is, we aren't judging it on aesthetic alone," Riko said. She immediately cut off the swan's neck and neatly sectioned out a bit of its chest. Immediately, a thick gravy-like sauce began to flow out from the crust, a wonderfully savory scent pooling out along with it, and the tenderly cooked meat seemed to fall apart on her fork.
"Ah— it looks like Ebisawa-sama is ready to judge, though she seems to have chosen a rather gruesome image to leave herself with."
Riko didn't react to the comment. Instead, she stared at the meat in the pie, carefully rotating the bite she had on her fork. "This isn't steak," she said plainly.
"What do you mean, Ebisawa-san?" Oizumi asked.
"I mean, this isn't steak," she said. "There's almost no marbling and nothing that implies that it's been deboned. If not for the latter, I'd think it was venison, but there can't be a living animal that provides a cut like this, much less any kind of cattle."
"I will reveal my secrets once you've taken a bite," Rindō cajoled, beaming at the judges.
Riko allowed for a smirk to spread across her face before putting the morsel in her mouth.
Rindō hadn't lied; at its most fundamental, it was a steak pie. The pastry practically melted in her mouth from the layers of lamination Momo had been able to coax from the dough, and the rest of the dish followed neatly behind. The meat was robust and tasted like a high quality beef, and if Riko hadn't seen the lack of marbling herself, she'd have taken the student's description as fact. A distinct fruitiness descended upon her palate as well, a sweetness she hadn't anticipated hiding in the gravy. Whole sections of tart berry had been left in the gravy rather than crushed to a pulp, and as she bit down on one, it erupted with a juice that mingled further still with the rest of the pie.
With every bite the judges took, the flavor profile built on itself, reaching new depths with each taste of steak and gravy they had, and the taste of the crust both buoyed them through it and cut it short from being too overwhelming. The pastry floated over the waves of flavor like swan boats racing across a river of umami and fruit, and suddenly Riko was there, in a boat shaped like a long-necked bird and braided from golden layers of dough. The pastry boat crested another wave, carrying her through the journey down the otherwise calm stream, and she felt a laugh building in her chest, a laugh filled with exuberant joy and lightheaded incredulity. As the flavor lingered in her mouth, she felt the boat slow to an easy drift, the sensation ending with a contentedness that left her sighing.
Azami leaned back, his eyes closed as he appreciated the interplay of flavors. "I've had this kind of steak before. This is ostrich meat," he said.
"Ostrich?!" Yūki said. "Those giant birds from Africa? You can eat those?!"
"Ostrich meat?" Oizumi repeated. "I've heard of some restaurants in western Europe offering it, but I didn't know it was commercially available."
"It's considered a gourmet food generally, though Germany consumes quite a lot of it," Riko said. "It's regarded as a healthier alternative to typical red meats due to its extremely low fat content. It's also got the perfect pH to combat bacterial growth, so contamination concerns are much, much lower than for something like beef."
"Ding ding ding!" Rindō clapped her hands together. "This is my Personal Ostrich and Lingonberry Pie! It's been my latest focus within the Silver Faction for the past month or so, ever since I learned about commercially available ostrich."
"I've judged your Shokugeki before and you've always been a pioneer of an ingredient I'd never heard of before; I can't imagine that you hadn't heard of ostrich meat used in cooking prior to a month ago," Minatozaka said.
"Oh, I've known about it for a while! It's just not feasible to go out and harvest it for your own personal consumption. Have you seen how big an ostrich can get?"
"I suppose that makes sense," Minatozaka muttered to himself.
"It sounds like the judges are done scrutinizing Kobayashi-san's dish, and from their words it sounds like an absolutely delectable offering. Can Tadokoro-san's dish compare?"
"Why don't we see?" Megumi walked up to the judges with servings of her own food, Satoshi following her with the rest. "Before you ask, Kobayashi-san, there's a bowl for you as well."
Rindō's eyes lit up happily and she practically danced over to the portion that Megumi left at her station.
Azami's eyes narrowed as Megumi approached. "Tadokoro-san." His words came out rather stilted. "You look well."
"As do you, Nakiri-san," she said serenely, though the steel in her eyes contradicted her tone. "I hope what I serve for you today pleases you more than the last time you tried my cooking."
"Oooh, Azami-kun, what's the story here?" Riko asked, leaning over the table to scrutinize Megumi. "She doesn't strike me as someone who you'd convince to follow your teachings."
"That's one way to put it," Azami muttered.
"Nakiri-san and I came to an agreement, along with some of my other contemporaries," Megumi said delicately. "We aren't here to rehash old history, though; please enjoy what I've made from you separate from my past accomplishments."
Azami muttered to himself as he looked at the bowl Satoshi set in front of him. "Dumpling soup?" he asked dubiously, eyeing the murky beige broth.
"That seems downright plebeian," Sōmei commented.
"I mean, it does sound much simpler than whatever long title Kobayashi-senpai gave her dish," Takumi said uncertainly.
"No, no! This is Tadokoro-senpai at her finest," Yūki insisted, her cheek set in a stubborn pout. "She's gone all out to display her specialty for them, I'm certain!"
"That's not her specialty," Zenji said. "There's no way it could be; Tadokoro-senpai's known for far more complex dishes than that. Surely, there's some additional secret combination she's just trying out?"
"What, experimenting in the middle of a five-judge Shokugeki?" Yūki scoffed. "That would be so, so stupid. I don't care if she's in the Gold Faction or not."
"It's been done historically," Shun said. "Maybe she thought of something right before they started."
"Right away, I can say with confidence that it doesn't look as good as Kobayashi-san's food," Minatozaka said. "That doesn't mean it doesn't look good, of course; having a sous chef whose main focus is the aesthetic appeal of a dish elevates its presentation almost immediately, and we did see that Isshiki-san was more focused on making these dumplings than on artistically arranging them in the bowl."
"There's no further judging that can be done just by sight," Azami said. "Let's eat."
He went to dip his spoon into the bowl, and when he did the broth flashed with something bright and yellow.
"What? There's something sunk into the soup," Riko wondered out loud.
"Is this a thin dàn huā tāng?" Minatozaka wondered out loud. "This color reminds me of the stirred egg typical of that soup."
Azami lifted one of the dumplings from the soup and examined it. There were imperfections, of course, though that was to be expected from hand-formed dumplings. It felt deliberate, as though the boy had purposefully made the dumpling he now held appear more like a child's contribution to the dinner table than the elevated food that the students had been tasked with making. Was this just another way for the students to continue to lift their chin to him, to show him that the perfection he demanded was lesser than the passion they claimed to have?
Azami cleared the thoughts from his mind as they formed, unwilling to let the lingering bitterness over his defeat taint his food. He took a bite of it.
Takumi watched as the judges put their spoons down after their first taste of Megumi's dish; one fully dropped his and let it clatter against the table as he stared wide-eyed at her. She seemed unsurprised at the reaction and merely leaned against the closest counter.
"Why aren't they saying anything?" Ryōko muttered.
"Give them a moment," Shun replied, his own impatience betrayed by a finger tapping on his elbow.
"It's…" Riko struggled for a comment.
"What is this?" Saotome asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I— I didn't even think to discern its ingredients."
"Take another bite, then," Megumi urged. "Take as many as you want."
Rindō had already polished off half of the bowl prepared for her. "Very, very clever, Tadokoro-san," she said appreciatively. "There's ribbons of egg at the very bottom of the bowl, so that when you put a spoon in to take out a dumpling the soup itself transforms. And these dumplings— they taste like seafood, but the texture of the filling doesn't feel like traditional yú jiǎo."
"That's because it's not fish," Azami said, carefully examining the dumpling he had bitten into. "The flavor has been duplicated exactly, but this isn't a protein of any kind."
"Correct," Megumi said, clasping her hands together. "The filling is mostly tofu as well as lion's mane mushrooms I boiled in anchovy and pork broth to infuse it with a more traditionally accepted flavor. The other ingredients are what you'd expect for a fish dumpling: ginger, rice wine, scallions."
"Why use mushrooms rather than fish?"
"They're lighter on the stomach," she said. "This is a dish meant to be enjoyed in its entirety; it could have been too rich if I kept the recipe fully traditional."
"And the soup?"
She shrugged slightly. "It's a fairly standard ingredient list; I just used fewer eggs to keep them hidden at the bottom of the bowl."
"Then what is it about it?" Minatozaka looked wild. "What about this recipe is so—" he cut himself off out of frustration.
"Isn't it obvious?" Rindō put her empty bowl down with a satisfied grin. "The point of Tadokoro-san's cooking has never been to be a puzzle to figure out. She's never wanted to deliver something with a complex list of ingredients and a subtle interplay. This is a culmination of that aim."
"Then how are we supposed to judge it?" Riko objected.
"Just enjoy it," Rindō said. "Take it all in."
Azami hadn't contributed to the other judges' objections or distress at all. After examining the dumpling, he'd simply eaten the rest of it and continued working through the soup itself. When he ate the soup by itself, the eggs that he'd stirred from the bottom had absorbed some of the umami of the broth and settled in his chest with a warming ache. Tasting the dumplings was a different sort of revelation; the components of their filling had been unevenly cut so that each bite was a different combination of flavors, encouraging the consumer to eat every dumpling to keep experiencing them. Together, they formed a harmonious dish that wouldn't be out of place on the menu of an award-winning restaurant.
That wasn't what the other judges were talking about with such uneasy confusion. What they were trying to decipher was a strange nostalgia that slowly crept up on Azami with each successive bite. It was infuriating to have that discovery dangled just out of reach: the flavors were deep and developed, but as Rindō said there wasn't a third element that twisted it just so and propelled it to the upper echelon of cooking. He took another bite, and found himself lingering in that lack further. His analysis of Satoshi's creation was correct; the dumplings didn't look perfect at all. Some of them were even losing the careful loop that they'd been pinched into while boiled in the soup.
It's like something a child would have served. I would have expected something like this from Erina when—
"I think if I served this in a restaurant I'd call it 'New Beginnings Dumpling Soup'," Megumi said. "Doesn't that have a nice ring to it?"
The revelation hit. Azami finally remembered a moment from a decade prior, and decades prior to that, even. He remembered walking out to see a sloppily set table and a five-year-old girl stirring a pot with a determined set to her shoulders, he remembered turning to see his mother standing in a doorway with her hand over her mouth as he held a pan of overcooked beef. He remembered the involuntary smile on his and her face, and he remembered the shining smile he'd gotten in return, long before sitting down to try whatever strange creation clumsy hands had crafted.
As perfect as the execution of the dish was, it wasn't a dish about being the best chef. It wasn't even a dish about trying to be the best chef. It was a dish meant to distill the very moment that someone realized that cooking was magic, that it was something that alchemized love and passion into a tangible thing that could be consumed by someone else. The flavors were left missing that final nuance because the chef Megumi mimicked didn't know about those nuances yet. Her dish tasted earnest because every chef started out with the same desire to create something that others would enjoy, no matter how much they lost that desire as they were tempered in places like Tōtsuki or were thrown down by the rigid standards of the professional food world. Even the dishes it had been based on focused on new beginnings: dumplings that were traditionally made by parents and children in preparation for the Lunar New Year in a hidden dàn huā tāng, a dish named because it resembled small flowers in bloom.
It was a dish meant to invoke spring, with its fragile blossoms and dreams, small budding things that could either be nurtured or destroyed by a frost. It was clear which Megumi chose to do.
Rindō's dish had been spectacular, a clear example from someone confident in their craft. Every flavor had been brought out to the exact profile she desired, measurements balanced exactly to ensure the harmony that she wanted to illustrate. In complete contrast, Megumi's goal wasn't to deliver a perfect dish. Her food was meant to be an experience, something to invoke a deep reaction that she knew everyone who ate it would have, and to judges who were used to expecting the former, it was deeply wonderful and vexing in equal margins. As close as their skills were, a decision was made without too much effort.
"The judges have come to a decision!"
Rindō sighed at the results. Not a complete sweep, which was a slight balm to her wounded pride. "You win this time, Tadokoro-san," she said, crossing her arms. "Best be prepared; I'm coming for you next month."
"I look forward to it, Kobayashi-chan," Megumi said.
"Congratulations, Tadokoro Megumi-san, on claiming the Elite Ten Third Seat!"
"SHE DID IT!" Yūki screamed.
Takumi felt Sōmei jump again. "Aren't you used to it by now?" he asked.
"There is absolutely no way to become accustomed to the shrillness and volume of that girl's vocal register," he growled. "Can we go find a kitchen, now?"
"Right, right, yes, let's go."
Megumi walked out of Chandra's Room with Satoshi following close behind. "Well done," he said.
She just hummed in response.
"That was less subtle than I expected from you," someone said from her right. Megumi paused before turning, the polite smile she typically wore flitting across her face before she put it away. A glaring boy leaned against the wall, a bandanna pushing his hair away from his face.
"I thought you weren't a fan of my subtlety, Ryō-kun," she said.
Ryō snorted, pushing himself off of the wall to tower over her. "You weren't cooking to win. You were cooking to shove a past victory in that idiot's face." He sneered at the concept.
Megumi didn't balk at his approach, even as Satoshi took a cautious step back from both of them. "That's fair," she said. "I didn't completely change course when I saw him, though; you knew what I was planning."
"Both of us know that you weren't planning on doing that ingredient swap until you found out who was going to be judging," he said. "And 'it would be too rich'?" He made no effort in imitating her. "Please. We both know at least twenty kinds of whitefish that would have been perfect if you wanted a light, delicate flavor. You're a shit liar."
"Language."
"Fuck you," he jeered. "I know what you'd tell anyone else: you didn't waver on your specialty, you carried out the Gold's mission statement. Whatever, I don't care about all of that. What I care about is your cooking faltering because some bastard who didn't outgrow his emo stage showed up out of nowhere to eat your food." Ryō jabs her shoulder harshly. "Be better, Tadokoro. Don't compromise your best for dumbasses."
Megumi brushed his hand off. "How kind of you, Ryō." Her voice went cold. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you cared."
He sneered in her face one last time before walking away. "Fuck caring. If you falter again, I'll be right there to claim my rightful place in this hierarchy, no matter how much Alice thinks she's got us both on lock. You're wearing my respect thin."
Megumi wordlessly watched him tug his bandanna off halfway down the hallway, turning his hunter's gait into a sullen slump.
"Is everything alright, Tadokoro-senpai?" Satoshi asked after a moment of silence.
"Hm? Oh, yes, don't worry about Kurokiba-san," she said, sounding distracted. "Let's go find Sōma. He'll want to go over the results in more depth."
Apologies for being a day late! I completely lost track of what day it was this week. Haven't gotten around to editing a cover for this chapter yet, but when I do it'll be updated. I really fought to include some Takumi POV sections in this chapter, but it does get tiring to do a rinse-repeat of Shokugeki's storyline and I wanted to write some high-level cooking for a bit.
Quick food notes: Dàn huā tāng is the Chinese name for egg drop soup and translates to "egg flower soup". Yú jiǎo are traditional fish dumplings. Fish is typically eaten during the Lunar New Year because 'having fish' and 'having surplus' sound the same in Chinese.
