Isami called Takumi while he was heading to a practical class. Takumi greeted him with a warning that he only had at most ten minutes as he walked to the building and shouldered a door open. He got a few strange looks as people heard him speaking in Italian, but no one approached him so he chose to ignore their distaste.
"That's fine; I should head to bed soon anyhow," Isami said, audibly holding back a yawn. "I just wanted to see how you were doing in Tokyo. It's been, what, almost a week?"
"Has it?" Takumi asked, blinking. "Huh. It feels like it's been longer, somehow."
"Is it really that exciting there?" Takumi heard some rustling; he wondered just what Isami had attempted to do during the phone call. "I thought it was just a cooking school."
"There's a lot more going on than either of us thought there would be," Takumi said. "There was a cooking battle— they're called Shokugeki— between two of the third-years a couple of days ago, and I think both of them are already better than Papà is right now. It's a little terrifying."
"Those are third-years though, right? How about people our age?"
"I don't know," Takumi admitted. "One of the other kids in my dorm wants me to go to another battle tonight. Apparently one of the competitors in that one is in our year. It'll be good to see how well a classmate is expected to cook, I suppose."
"Yeah, I get that." Isami suppressed another yawn.
"Go to sleep, Isami. I'm in my classroom now."
"Yeah, okay," his twin muttered. "Good night, fratellone."
"It's one in the afternoon—" Isami hung up on him mid-protest.
Shun found Takumi staring at his phone screen in outrage. "What did your phone do to you?"
Takumi shook himself out of it. "Ah— I called my brother," he tried to explain. "He hung up on me."
Shun's gaze, as always, was obscured by his hair, but Takumi could just sense that he had a single eyebrow raised. "And that bothers you because…?"
Takumi tried to find the right words again. He soon gave up. "Never mind."
Shun shrugged before setting up their station as their instructor walked in. "Let's just get through this class so we can meet up with Mito-san before her Shokugeki." He made a face. "I can't say I necessarily agree with what she's trying to get out of it, but it's not like she's being particularly stupid."
"What is she trying to get out of it?" Takumi asked, setting out a set of knives for their shared use.
"You'll see."
After class wrapped up, Shun ushered Takumi towards a building on the east side of Tōtsuki's main campus that only held kitchens that students had to reserve in advance for their own use. He headed straight to the third floor and knocked on a door that had been labeled 'FOR MITO IKUMI'S USE - ALL DAY'.
The person who opened the door was a tan girl with a short bleached haircut. She wasn't in uniform, favoring instead a plain black cropped shirt barely more than a bra designed to make her cleavage even more defined and denim shorts cut so high that her pockets were visible— as well as the thigh-strap holding a butcher's cleaver. Another knife holster was strapped to her upper left arm, but it lay empty, the boning knife typically stored there held loosely in her right hand.
"Oh, hey, Ibusaki-san," she said, twirling the knife mindlessly as she nodded to him. "Did you need something?"
Shun shrugged. "Just curious how your preparations are going."
A wicked grin curled on her face. "Ha! That stupid Don RS Head won't know what hit him!" Ikumi kicked the door fully open with a single movement and gestured for the two boys to walk in. "You're the new kid, right? What're you doing with an antisocial prick like Ibusaki?"
Shun shot a sharp look at her.
"Ah, yeah. Aldini Takumi. Ibusaki-san and I are in the same dorm," Takumi said. He sat down at one of the bar stools she waved them towards. "He asked me to come along before your Shokugeki later?"
"Oh?" She leaned in and seemed to actually acknowledge him with that, analyzing him from head to toe. "Didya catch someone's attention?"
"Saiba-senpai, of all people," Shun answered.
Takumi had never seen someone go so red so quickly. "O-oh? Saiba-senpai?" The girl shifted slightly in place. "W-what did you do to get Saiba-senpai interested in you?"
"Um. Transferred into Tōtsuki, I think," Takumi said.
"It can't be just that; he's not that shallow," she said dismissively.
"That's neither here nor there," Shun interrupted. "I brought Aldini-san here because I had the feeling you were still preparing for your Shokugeki."
"Oh, right," she said, turning back towards her station. "Yeah, I think I've come up with something that'll really knock the judges out." She gestured vaguely towards the stove. "It's almost a waste to use it on this Shokugeki, though. It's not like the Don RS can make anything decent anymore."
"What is the Don RS?" Takumi asked.
"RS stands for Research Society. Don is short for donburi, which is a dish served in rice bowls." Ikumi shrugged. "I'm sure whoever founded the club way back when was like, a genius when it came to the subject or whatever, but the current RS is a sad state of affairs. There's maybe three people in it, and all they've got going for them is a recipe book whose latest entry is from all the way back in the 87th Generation. They've still got a private kitchen thanks to their legacy, and I obviously need one." She gestured toward the sign on the door.
"You're just doing this over kitchen rights?" Shun prodded. "That doesn't seem like enough to warrant an entire Shokugeki."
Something in Ikumi's expression changed, but before she could reply, someone knocked on the door before opening it. A rather nondescript looking man peered in.
"Mito-sama? Eizan-sama was asking after you— he said the two of you had to go over a game plan."
"Of course, I'll be right there," she replied, promptly wiping off her knives and storing them in their holsters. She picked up a case that Takumi was sure was filled with even more implements. "Sorry for cutting this so short; I'll meet up with you two after I win."
"Don't be too cocky," Shun called behind her halfheartedly.
"Please. Don't you have any confidence in me, Ibusaki?" Ikumi vanished down the hallway with one last backwards wave.
The arena that hosted Ikumi's Shokugeki against the Don RS's head was much smaller than Chandra's Room, though that didn't surprise Takumi. It was still well attended; Ikumi seemed to be quite popular among Tōtsuki's students, though when Takumi made that comment, both Shun and Sōmei (who had stubbornly insisted on standing at least five rows away from the main Polar Star coalition) had given him a baffled look.
"I sometimes forget how unfamiliar you are with the inner workings of the student politics of this Academy," Sōmei said. "Mito-san is a well-respected member of our Generation and is expected to be one of the front-runners who will graduate from the school. She works under a second-year of the Elite Ten, though there are most likely reasons besides her cooking ability that helped his decision."
"Mito-san's the scion of Japan's preeminent meat distribution group," Shun explained. "She was raised knowing she'd inherit it one day, and being the best at working with meat is a point of pride for her. She'll probably use her connections to win this match…"
"Wow! What is Mito-san having wheeled onstage?" The host gasped loudly into her mic. "Is that…"
"An entire side of A5 beef," Ikumi said, sounding satisfied.
"Well, no one can accuse her of being unpredictable," Sōmei said.
Takumi watched Ikumi deftly unsheathed and sheathed a variety of knives as she worked, setting aside sections of meat on trays before stepping back with a cut that was so perfectly marbled that even he could tell that it was the best portion. "What will she do with the rest of it?"
Shun shrugged. "Probably have it packaged and sent back to her family's warehouse for sale. I don't think she's going to try and use it for her dish."
The three of them fell silent as they watched the two students cook. Even without hearing the results or seeing their final dishes, Takumi could tell who would win. It didn't matter if Ikumi was objectively the better chef or not, though she clearly was. What mattered was that her opponent was uncertainly moving about his station, openly second-guessing almost every decision he made and glancing over at Ikumi in a panic as she breezed through her preparations and started cooking in earnest. Takumi felt a little bad for him, though he did question his hair-styling choices.
"You said that Mito-san specialized generally in how she cooks meat," Takumi said to Shun. "Isn't that… really vague? How can someone claim an entire food group as their specialty?"
"Putting it that way makes it sound more impressive than it is," Shun said. "For any other food group, it would be a huge accomplishment. Every culture prepares grains, fruit, vegetables, and dairy products differently; someone to claim that their mastery was over every single dish that mainly uses any of those is impossible, especially for someone who's still in high school. Meat, though, is prepared in very few ways across almost all worldwide cultures. Most meat dishes are distinctive based on the ingredients added to the main meat and how it's cut or prepared, but beef and pork cuts all have their ideal internal temperature, no matter if an American or a Chinese-style chef is preparing it. Mito-san knows all of those exact temperatures so well that she can test the internal temperature of whatever she's preparing against her lips rather than relying on a thermometer's readings."
Takumi watched Ikumi do exactly that, as if she could hear Shun's words. The girl tapped the rod of the thermometer on her bottom lip, eyes half-lidded as she considered it before nodding to herself and turning her oven off. She took out the cleaver Takumi had noticed strapped to her earlier and began to carefully cut slices of her meat, stacking her work neatly on a plate next to her arranged by size.
As the judges marveled over Ikumi's swift but intricate movements, Sōmei sniffed derisively and sat back in his chair. "You're to tell me that she's an Elite Ten trainee?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Her skill in cooking with that meat is undeniable and I'm sure that it being A5 will definitely help her chances, but her dish could barely be considered a donburi. The way her rice is prepared acts more as a side dish to the meat rather than a balanced partner in the overall meal; you'd think she'd spend more than ten seconds considering what it means to make a don."
"Is balance important for a don? If it's a rice bowl, aren't the toppings the most important factor?"
Sōmei scoffed. "Perhaps by a small margin, but it's far more important to ensure that the rice and, in this case, meat of your donburi have an interplay that encourages the consumer to eat it all and keep enjoying it. It can't just be a rice bowl with some add-ons, which is what she's preparing." His eyes narrowed. "And the heaviness of the rice she's preparing won't help her fight that claim at all. She's just lucky that second-year isn't able to keep up with her pace."
"You're being far more short-sighted than you usually are, Saitō-san," Shun said flatly.
Startled, Takumi and Sōmei turned to Shun. "Why do you say that, Ibusaki-san?"
"Ikumi went into this Shokugeki knowing she would win," he said. "No matter what she made, if she cooked at the standard she held herself to and obeyed the minimal description of what the theme required, she was always going to excel and outclass Konishi-san. Really, Mito-san did not need to challenge the Don RS to get what she claims she wanted; just the threat of her challenge would have been enough to make that second-year roll over and agree to anything."
Sōmei glanced back to the arena. "He does seem rather yellow-bellied," he admitted.
"So why have this Shokugeki, and why pull out an entire side of A5 beef, and why go through the lengths to show how the heir of the Mito Family Empire prepares it perfectly, sectioning out the less quality parts and leaving the best of the best to cook with?" Shun leaned back, folding his arms. "What else is in a Shokugeki?"
Takumi's eyes widened. Shun nodded. "You see it then, Aldini-san."
"What detail is it that I've missed, exactly?" Sōmei asked, sounding impatient.
"The judges," Takumi said, turning back. "A Shokugeki is supposed to have an impartial panel. chosen to declare a winner after tasting both participants' food. Who are they, this time?"
"Kawashima-chan introduced them in the very beginning of the Shokugeki." Shun gestured at the first, a woman wearing a purple yukata with her hair tied up with a kanzashi. "Kuraki Shigeno, the president of Restaurant Kuraki, a well-known restaurant in Matsusaka, a region known for its high-quality beef." He continued down the line of people sitting at the judging table. "Bitō Yoshiki, a famous black beef critic; he's known to have tried and critiqued over fifty establishments in the past two years alone. Okamoto Katsunori, executive producer of the food reality show First-Class Gluttons, where chefs are challenged with creating a dish that satisfies the most particular of gourmet palates. All three are titans in their own fields, extremely knowledgeable in beef like the kind that Mito-san is currently working with, and actively interested in working with the Mito family."
"This isn't a competition at all," Takumi said, staring at the arena as Ikumi sauntered up to the judges with bowls that held beef cut and arranged into the petals of a flower on fragrant garlic rice. "This is networking."
"Exactly. Ikumi doesn't need to excel in this match because no matter what, she'll gain something out of it. What she does need to excel at is impressing the judges that the quality of her food, and especially her beef, is what they'd get from working with the Mito family, and since she's still an 'immature child' in their eyes, they'll probably try to talk to her under the notion that she's more impressionable than her father or grandfather to further that connection." Shun crossed his arms. "She and her mentor definitely collaborated on this. It stinks of them both."
"Who is her mentor…?"
"And Mito Ikumi takes it with a decisive 3-0 victory!" Urara's voice cut through their conversation. "Congratulations to her, and condolences to Konishi-san. As promised, Mito-san is claiming the Don RS's kitchen for her private use, as well as any of the recipes that they've developed that she finds personally interesting. Thank you all for coming to this Shokugeki! I've been your one and only Kawashima Urara, signing off!"
Shun stood and gestured for them to follow. "Let's go see if we can find her before she has to leave," he said. Sōmei and Takumi exchanged a look before hurrying after him, though not before Takumi noticed Ikumi shaking the female judge's hand firmly, as well as a blonde boy walking up to the dejected loser and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
It was easy to find Ikumi, as it turned out. She hadn't left her waiting room, choosing instead to take some time to resharpen the knives she'd used in her bout. When Shun walked in with the two other boys, she waved at them with the knife.
"Well? Impressed?" she preened.
"Very," Shun deadpanned.
Ikumi leveled him with a flat glare before pointedly ignoring him and turning to the other two boys. "I've got leftovers you're more than welcome to taste, if you'd like."
"Your dish seemed very extravagant," Sōmei said. "Far too rich for my blood."
"I'll take that as a compliment, Saitō-san," Ikumi said with a smirk. "That's the point of A5 beef, no? Richness with every bite, meat you can practically drink off of the bone, a perfect marble that every chef wants to work with."
"Spare me your advertising campaign."
"Ikumi! Let's go, it's time to break down the cost-benefits and see if there's anything else to leverage from this— hm?" The blond boy Takumi had noticed onstage walked in, glancing up from his phone as he noticed the three extra people in the room. "Since when did you have friends?"
"Since shut up, you yankee jackass," Ikumi grumbled. "Can't we take a break from the business and just celebrate that I've won, for once?"
"Pssh, you know as well as I do that you won before even walking out there," he snorted, obviously dismissing the other first-years after a single glance. "Well? Did you appreciate the last minute judge swap I called in for you? You can thank me later."
"Kuraki-san did seem excited to talk to me," Ikumi muttered to herself before shaking the thought out of her head. "Whatever. I still won, and it feels great."
"It'll feel even greater when you start profiting from it," the blond boy said cajolingly, tapping out an email on his phone. "I've already spoken to Konishi-san and offered him my services to help bring the Don RS back to something respectable on campus, which he seemed to at least consider. You might need to help me with that; I'm thinking about offering our services to ensure that his booth at the Autumn Festival is in the upper half of its local division, which I can't foresee being too difficult. Make sure to follow up with an email to Kuraki-san within twenty-four hours and maybe Okamoto-san as well. Bitō-san, you probably won't need to; he'll simply remember the flavors that you showed him today and that will reflect well on you the next time he's confronted with your family's meat. Actually, maybe you could reach out to your father and request that he get sent an early sampler of whatever it is that your family is offering next as thanks to really win him over." He turned back to the door, heading out of the room. "We're heading to my kitchen. I want to hear you break down what happened out there and what you need to bring next time, based on the judges I've been hearing about."
"Yes, Eizan-senpai," Ikumi said flatly, rolling her eyes behind his back. She waved at the boys as she followed him out. "Sorry to leave so quickly again; Ibusaki-san, I have to ask you about wood chips for a recipe I'm developing on request of the Japanese Gourmet Society to help market a new acquisition of Grandfather's. I'll shoot you an email."
"Yeah, yeah, you know where to find me." Shun waved her off. "Hm. Didn't expect Eizan-senpai to have gotten down here so quickly. He seemed busy onstage with Konishi-san."
"He seems very…"
"Ruthless?"
"Well, I wouldn't accuse him of being cavalier," Sōmei said drily. "I did wonder why Eizan-senpai agreed to participate in so many Shokugeki, but he found a way to profit off of all of those similarly, didn't he?"
"Of course he did," Shun said. "It wouldn't be Eizan-senpai if he didn't maximize his profits at every turn."
Saitō's eyes narrowed at that. "If he wasn't as talented as he is, he'd be spat upon as a chef."
"Good for him that he's talented, then." The three of them headed out of the building. "Aldini-san, have you found an RS that you found interesting enough to join yet? I remember you mentioning it last night."
Takumi shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I could honestly join any of them just for more experience in non-Italian cooking."
"Most of them are a waste of time," Sōmei commented idly. "The students in them are subpar chefs and their only claim to glory is being surrounded by other, more subpar students. The only ones that are truly worth joining are either of the Factions."
"I wouldn't say it like that," Shun said, though his protests were half-hearted at best. "Any RS head is more than familiar in their claimed style of cooking and has at least some advice that's worth listening to. I will admit, if you expect any of them to be places to hone your cooking technique, you might not get what you're looking for."
"Hmm. So, I shouldn't join the—" Takumi pulled a random RS name out of his head— "Dessert RS or something? I've been planning to surprise my nonna with a cake for her birthday this summer and have no idea where to start with it."
"Akanegakubo-chan dissolved the Dessert RS last year because they weren't doing 'cute enough things to justify their existence', in her words," Sōmei said. "But yes, if you wanted to make a better dessert, you'd be better off asking Akanegakubo-chan herself for her recommendations. I can't see her giving that up without a Shokugeki, though."
Takumi didn't know exactly what possessed him to say what he said next. "Alright. Then I'll challenge her to one. It shouldn't be that difficult, right?"
Shun and Sōmei both stopped in their tracks, whipping around practically in unison to stare at him. "What?!"
"What."
Momo's voice was far flatter than either of his friends' had been. He'd tracked her down when he was supposed to be at a class about tenderizing meat with proteases, but he and Isami had figured out the secrets to that when they were nine so he wasn't too concerned about the lecture.
"Exactly what I said." Takumi crossed his arms and hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt. "Let's have a Shokugeki. If I win, you have to teach me basic patisserie techniques to your specific standard."
Momo blinked once. Then she blinked another time, far more slowly. "You want Momo to teach you how to do basic technique," she repeated.
"To your standards. I'm sure you've figured out some secrets that you wouldn't be willing to share otherwise."
"And why should Momo say yes to the adorable little transfer student?" she asked.
It was Takumi's turn to blink at that. "You think I'm adorable?" He didn't voice that he stood almost a full foot taller than her, though the thought did cross his mind.
"Momo didn't say that," she sniffed derisively. Takumi idly wondered if Sōmei had seen her do it once and copied her or if it had happened the other way around. "Your fan club wouldn't disagree, though."
"I have a fan club?"
"Regardless," Momo said, ignoring his words and turning to the stuffed animal in her arms. "I don't see why Momo should care, do you, Bucchi? Why would the transfer student do something so stupid with no prize to offer?" She paused, nodding thoughtfully as though Bucchi was speaking to her. "That's a very good point. He might just be a stupid boy."
"I can teach you about my nonna's sfogliatelle," Takumi offered.
Momo blinked. "Is that some sort of skin condition?"
Takumi tried to hide the outrage that surged on behalf of his grandmother. "Look it up. It's not a secret. Well, my nonna's recipe might be, but the concept of sfogliatelle wasn't invented by her." He shrugged. "I don't really know you well enough to know what else I could offer to you. I don't plan on making this a super high-stakes event, but I think we'd both cook our best if we had something on the line, and I think you know how to bake a better cake than anyone else I could talk to."
Momo gave him one last appraising look before nodding jerkily. "Hm. Maybe you are cute. Cute little boy who thinks he can keep up with Momo and Bucchi," she murmured to herself. She pointed at him. "You can be Aldi-nyan. Yes, that's perfect. Aldi-nyan, I'll take this bizarre offer. Shokugeki between me and you. Next week. The theme is unusual sweets and confections."
"If I win, you tutor me in making desserts for a week. What do you want if you win?"
Momo's blank eyes suddenly narrowed in smug pride and a grin danced in the corner of her mouth. "When Momo wins," she said, "Aldi-nyan will have to be my butler for a week. You'll wait on me and Bucchi, hand and foot, and do everything Momo asks, from taking notes during Momo's consulting meetings to preparing light snacks when Momo needs to host important businessmen. Really, it's a win-win for you; you'll probably pick up on some tips just from being around Momo."
She twirled on a toe, twisting Bucchi so that the stuffed animal was held against her back and no longer obscuring Takumi from her vision. "What do you say, Aldi-nyan? Do we have a deal?"
"So, let me get this straight." Ikumi crossed her arms in front of her chest as she tried to parse through her thoughts.
Takumi stirred a pot to avoid burning its contents, along with meeting Ikumi's gaze.
"You decided to challenge Akanegakubo-san, the girl who managed to convince the Fourth Seat of the Elite Ten to help her skip a grade, to a Shokugeki just to get her to tutor you on how to make a cake? And she agreed, but only if the Shokugeki theme was desserts, her known forte? And you still said yes and scheduled it for next week?"
"She said 'unusual desserts', but that just about covers it," Takumi said. He dipped a spoon in the pot and tasted his work.
"Have you seen her social media?" Ikumi sputtered. She took her phone out and hurriedly typed something in, turning it to show Takumi an account filled with elaborate baked confections. "She lives for unusual desserts. Look at this cake sculpture she made to celebrate getting into high school early!"
Takumi recoiled slightly as she shoved her phone in his face. "Yes, very adorable," he said impatiently, pushing it away.
"How're you going to compete with that?!" Ikumi asked, shaking the phone for emphasis.
He shrugged. "Simple. I'll make the best dessert I can and let the judges decide."
Ikumi stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Takumi hadn't expected her to join him and Shun in the kitchen he reserved to start testing dessert ideas, but she'd offered some decent advice before asking why he needed it. "You've got nerves of steel, Aldini," she said after a beat.
"Isn't this the point of this school?" he asked, gesturing at the pot in front of him. "Challenging yourself through challenging others and getting better, or something along those lines?"
"Saiba-senpai would say that," Shun said. He leaned forward to inspect the pot. "Is that jam?"
"Yeah. It's just apples, raspberries, and blueberries for now." Takumi grimaced at it. "It's not the right flavor profile at all, so I'm going to have to do some experimentation." He rubbed his eyes. "Ibusaki-san, I know you said that there's no way that someone can be a 'vegetable' or 'fruit' master, but is there anyone on campus who you can say comes close?"
"Of course. I can easily think of one, actually."
Ikumi snorted. "You mean Tadokoro-senpai, don't you?"
Shun shrugged. "You have to admit she cooks a lot of vegetables."
Takumi sighed. "Do you think she'd be open to helping me with this?"
"Normally, I'd say no," Shun said, "but I have the feeling that if she knows who's asking, she'd be more than happy to spare a few minutes."
Ikumi shook her head disbelievingly. "Aldini-san, if you knew how weird your life sounds to any other first-year, you'd probably be a lot humbler."
"Why should I be humble?"
Both Shun and Ikumi just stared at him.
"I know that you're all probably starstruck by the Elite Ten and their accomplishments," Takumi went on to say, adding a spoonful of sugar and grimacing when it didn't help his concoction. "They're all accomplished, even I can see that. But they're just kids. They might seem like geniuses in their craft, but they've got maybe two years more experience than me at best. It'd be silly for me to act like they're gods when half of them are only now able to buy wine at the trattoria."
"I see why Saiba-senpai took a liking to you," Ikumi said.
Takumi hummed noncommittally. "Ibusaki-san, where do you think I could find Tadokoro-senpai around this time of day?"
Shun fell silent as he mulled the question over. "Right now? Probably over at the DEF Kitchen for another hour or so. At least, that's what Isshiki-senpai said they were doing today."
"DEF Kitchen?"
The DEF Kitchen turned out to be a small building close to Tōtsuki's campus that hosted cooking classes for housewives and children. When the three first-years arrived, they found Satoshi charming around a dozen middle-aged women and Megumi effortlessly weaving between counters of children as flour flew into the air from their enthusiastic stirring.
She turned as Shun opened the door to the class. "Oh, Ibusaki-kun? Did an emergency come up?" she asked.
"No. I'm just showing the transfer student around. And Mito-san, I suppose."
"Oh!" Megumi's confusion easily melted into her typical smile. "Welcome to our classroom, then. Do you feel up for helping some little hands out?"
Before any of them could say anything, the children all turned and began to crowd around them. Takumi braced himself for the onslaught, but it was obvious that Ikumi and Shun weren't used to the same level of undivided attention from the way they both froze on the spot.
"Er— hi—" Ikumi managed to stutter out. Shun just went as stiff as a board.
"Wow, there're a lot of you, huh?" Takumi said, digging out his Trattoria Aldini voice from wherever he had stored it to focus on being a student and smoothly taking over for his classmates. "What did Tadokoro-senpai have you cooking before we got here?"
"We're baking with Megumi-sensei today!" One little girl squeaked, excitedly bouncing as she showed him a bowl of dough. "We're gonna make cookies!"
"That's exciting. What kind of cookies?"
"Anything cookies!" a boy cheered from the other side of the pack of children.
"That's right!" Megumi said. "But we're not going to be done in time if you keep talking to my kōhai, so let's get back to work, eh?"
"Yes, Megumi-sensei," the children chorused before scattering back to their stations.
Ikumi whipped around to stare at Takumi. "Since when were you good with kids?"
Takumi blinked, pointing to himself. "Me?"
Ikumi nodded fervently.
"Uh. I'm not actually particularly good with kids," Takumi admitted sheepishly. "That's my twin Isami; he was the one asked to watch the neighborhood kids whenever their parents needed to run an errand. For the most part, they're just pickier customers. They're not the hardest to please."
"I-I see," Ikumi said.
"Mito-san, Aldini-san, Ibusaki-kun, we've only got around twenty minutes left of the class, if you just want to take a seat and wait," Megumi said, gesturing to a table at the side of the kitchen. "I'm sure the students would be more than happy to have you try their cookies after they're done baking."
The three first-years exchanged a glance and quickly nodded as the children around them cheered.
"Geez. Didn't think that I'd be spending the day watching kids mess up food when you said you'd be experimenting for something," Ikumi muttered. "What's an 'anything cookie', anyways?"
"I'm pretty sure it's just a blank cookie dough," Takumi said. "The name 'anything cookie' is from the idea that you could mix anything into it to your preference. I've heard them referred to as 'compost' or 'garbage' cookies before, but it's probably hard to convince children to make and eat something named after trash."
Ikumi wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, that's understandable. What a gross name."
"You're rather prissy for a girl who doesn't go anywhere without at least two knives strapped to her," Takumi commented.
"You're so rude— I don't have them on me here," Ikumi said. She held out a bare left arm as if to display it as evidence.
"You were asked to take them off and put them into a cubby by the secretary in the lobby," Shun muttered.
"Ibusaki-san?" she said sweetly.
"Yes?"
"Shut up."
"Okay."
"All that to say," Takumi said before Ikumi did something stupid like try to choke out Shun in front of a classroom full of children, "it's a quick and easy way to get kids interested in making food because they get to make something they'll enjoy eating while also being sanctioned to make a huge mess. That's probably why Tadokoro-senpai chose that particular recipe."
Before either of his classmates could reply, a small child bounced over to them with a tiny basket. It was the little girl from earlier.
"We wanted to give you some!" she said without preamble, pushing the basket of cookies towards the three high-school students. "I made the ones with peanuts and dried apricots."
Takumi peered into the basket to see a whole array of misshapen cookies, each pocked with a different collection of bewildering ingredients. By far the most nauseating looking one was filled with jelly beans, broken sticks of Pocky, and white chocolate chips. "These look tasty," he said through somewhat gritted teeth. "We'll be sure to enjoy these. Thank you."
She smiled at him before her nose scrunched up, her head tilted to the side. "Your eyes aren't brown," she said. "Why?"
Takumi blinked at the sudden question. "I'm not from Japan," he said somewhat hesitantly. "My dad is Japanese, but my mom is Italian. I got my eye and hair color from her."
"Ooh." The girl stuck a finger in her mouth. "Where is Italy?"
"It's in Europe, to the west."
"That's so far away!"
Takumi did not have any clue on how to respond besides a short "Yep."
"Ai-chan, what are you doing over there?" Megumi called over, startling the little girl. "Your mother's going to be here soon; don't you want to decorate your cookie package?"
"Aah! Yes, Megumi-sensei," the girl replied. She hastily bowed to the high school students before hurrying back to her post.
"Look at you, Mr. Ladykiller," Ikumi teased, poking through the cookies. "Having girls stare into those pretty blues, breaking hearts left and right?"
Takumi felt his face going bright red. "What is that supposed to mean—"
"Nothing, nothing," Ikumi said with a smirk. She poked his cheek with the cookie that Ai pointed out held her particular combination. "Eat your special cookie."
Takumi glared at her as he reluctantly took it. He heard Shun give a quiet cough that could easily have been a laugh.
After a few more minutes, Megumi managed to round up the children and bustle them towards the entrance of the DEF Kitchen. Shun and Ikumi stuck around in the lobby to keep an eye on the kids while Takumi lingered in the workspace to help clean up.
"So, what did you need me for?" Megumi asked as she swept the floor, pushing crushed pretzels, bits of chocolate, and crumbs into a dustpan.
"I have a Shokugeki with Akanegakubo-san coming up, and I was hoping you'd have some ideas for me," Takumi said as he wiped a counter down.
Megumi paused, glancing over at him. "A Shokugeki? Over what? Akanegakubo-chan has never struck me as someone who goes around challenging people."
"Oh, I challenged her," Takumi said. "I wanted to learn how to bake, and seeing as she's the reason the Dessert RS doesn't exist anymore, she's the only person I can think to ask."
"I see." Megumi's expression twisted a tiny bit, but when Takumi blinked that faded away. "You remind me of someone I met in my first year."
Takumi had the feeling she was referencing a mutual acquaintance of theirs with red hair and gold eyes.
"Desserts aren't really my forte, though," Megumi said apologetically. "I know how to bake the simple things, obviously, but anything that would be transformative enough for me to confidently bring it into a Shokugeki… no, I don't have any ideas for that one. I'm sorry for the time you wasted coming out here—"
"Oh, I have an idea of what I want to do," Takumi said, bowing his head to apologize for interrupting. "I just have no idea how to make tomatoes sweet."
"To-tomatoes?" He hadn't seen her as baffled as she currently was. "I've heard of tomato windfalls being turned into jams, but nothing more advanced than that. I feel like you'd know more about how to process tomatoes as a European."
"I think that's actually hindering me right now," Takumi said, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of dried jam. "All I can think of are ways that I've seen tomatoes prepared already, and I know that none of them are going to work for my idea. I need something else."
"Tell me your idea again?"
Takumi did so.
A small smirk began to curl across her mouth. "I think I have an idea, Aldini-san," she said slowly. "Tell me, have you worked with green tomatoes before?"
No food notes this week! Let me know your thoughts on this version of Ikumi's Shokugeki :) Only a chapter or two out from Hell Camp Arc, which I'm looking forward to finally sharing with you all.
