The Wendigo

by A Horseshoe Crab

Dana Alouette, the son of a globetrotting hunter, is coming to Totsuki in pursuit of his dream; creating the ultimate cuisine. Unfortunately, things won't be so easy as he draws the eye of a pushy upperclassman. Friends or enemies, it doesn't matter. At Totsuki Culinary Academy it's eat or be eaten and he's feeling hungry.

4. Chapter 4

Soup 1.4

⸻1⸻

As the clock struck 10, a trickle of students marched into the classroom. Like lambs to the slaughter, they nervously bleated to one another and anxiously shifted their feet with first day jitters. Dressed in all white cooking uniforms, they even looked a bit like lambs.

They're not going to last long, Erina thought, smirking. She strutted into the room, an aura of confidence radiating off of her. The crowd near the front of the class parted as she walked through, reverently whispering her name. She was the queen of the school and all these peasants knew it.

With so many weak-willed students, it was hardly a mystery why less than ten people graduated each year. It was only the first day and some of them looked like they were going to collapse under the pressure of Totsuki's academic standards. If they couldn't even handle something as insignificant as class, they wouldn't last an hour in Erina Nakiri's world.

"Well, well, preening under these pions' admiration; why am I not surprised?"

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her cousin, Alice Nakiri. Erina knew that whiny voice sounded familiar. The white-haired girl stood with her hands on her hips, puffing out her cheeks like a blowfish. Her pet bodyguard, Ryo something-or-other, loomed behind her as disattentive as always.

"Alice," Erina said, innocuously, "Whatever are you doing here? The remedial class isn't until the afternoon. Did you get lost in the school again?"

"Hey, who told you about that!" Alice commanded, her gaze darting to Ryo. The boy looked up at the ceiling and then towards the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. "Besides, it was a remedial math class. And only because I was one spot off of all my multiple choice questions. I can still cook circles around you."

Erina shook her head and sighed, "You're clearly delusional, you poor thing. If you ask nicely, maybe I'll get Hisako to tutor you."

"Why you—"

"Shut up, yeah?" The stern voice of Totsuki Academy lecturer, Jordan Dempsey, boomed from the front of the class; smothering all the noise and small talk in the room with the bluntness of a brick. "You're on my time now. If you want to waste it chattering, do it in the bloody hallway and get the hell out of my classroom!"

Jordan Dempsey was a stoic British man in his late forties. There was a touch of gray in his hair, frown lines creased his face, and his nose was squat and misshapen. His gaze was icy, even Alice knew better than to argue with him. This stone cold man was known throughout the rumor mill as the Knock-out Chef, a former boxer who would punch you in the mouth with flavor.

"Find a partner, and choose a cooking station," Dempsey ordered in the gruff rasp of an army drill sergeant, clapping his hands. The students glanced at each other, unsure of who they should partner with. It was only the first day of class. "Hurry up, then. Chop, chop."

Alice and Ryo were the first to pair up and they drifted to a cooking station at the back of the room. The rest of the ten stations quickly filled up, leaving Erina as the only one without a partner.

Feigning sadness, Alice said, "Awe, how shocking. You mean nobody wants to be your partner?"

The other students stared at Erina, who was standing by herself at a cooking station. Some of the boys fantasize about being her partner, cooking side-by-side with the most beautiful and elegant girl in their generation, but at the same time, they knew she would demand perfection. That was more pressure than they could handle. One mistake and their entire culinary careers could be over.

"How strange," mused Dempsey, glossing over the class register. "There should be twenty of you in this class. It would appear that someone is missing." His eyes paused at one particular student's name. That last name…could it be?

"Chef Dempsey," Erina raised her hand, "I'm perfectly fine with working by myself. Honestly, I'd prefer that. I fail to see how cooking with any of these knuckle-draggers could benefit me in any way." Alice let out an offended huff and a discontent murmur rustled from the other students.

"Be that as it may, working in pairs is the foundation of my class. I'd have to rewrite the curriculum—"

The classroom door slid open with a loud clank, interrupting their conversation. Dana Alouette stood in the doorway, panting. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his dark blue chef's coat and let out a relieved sigh. "Phew. I made it right on time."

Chef Dempsey glared at Dana. "You're late. Dana Alouette, I presume? How kind of you to grace us with your presence. After being a no-show at commencement, I wonder why you bothered coming to class at all."

Dana laughed half-heartedly, and lightly slapped Dempsey's arm, "Aw shucks, giving me the third degree on my first day? You sure know how to make a guy feel special, eh, Pops? You must be a chef, 'cause that roast was well-done." His joke fell completely flat, receiving nothing but blank stares and a dry cough.

Unperturbed, Dana patted himself down and dug into the pockets of his cooking uniform, pulling out a crumpled sheet of notebook paper. He smoothed out the worst of the wrinkles on his pant leg and handed it over to Dempsey.

Haphazardly scribbled on it was a simple two sentence message, "Sorry he's late. My bad." The letter was signed by Rindo Kobayashi, and had a crude cartoon drawing of a cat at the bottom of the page. This is definitely her handy work, thought Dempsey, who crumpled the paper up into a ball and tossed it into the trash can. "I'll overlook your tardiness this time and not expel you, but don't let it happen again."

"Aye, Aye, Captain!" Dana gave the stern chef a salute, although the smile on his face made it clear that he wasn't intimidated by the man's overt threat.

"Just move to the back of the class," Dempsey snapped, pointing to the station in the far corner of the room. "You'll be working with Erina Nakiri this semester."

Erina slumped forward and put her head in her hands. What god had she offended to be inflicted with such a curse of misfortune? Firstly, Hisako had to switch around her schedule at the last minute and they were no longer taking this class together. Secondly, that mangy mutt of a chef, Soma Yukihira had somehow been accepted into the school. And now she was going to be stuck with Dana as a cooking partner? When it rains, it pours.

Dana perked up and stood on his tippy-toes, shielding his eyes from an imaginary sun as he scanned the class. Spotting Erina, he walked over to her with a spring in his step, humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like "Habanera" by Georges Bizet.

Waving enthusiastically, he said, "Yo, Eriiii! What are the odds? Yep, I really am a lucky guy! Ah! Alice! You're in this class too? The Totsuki Triumvirate, together at last. Oh, I guess you're here too, Ryo."

"It is strange," Alice concurred, "I wonder if Grandfather had something to do with this."

"He has been awfully meddlesome as of late," Erina grumbled.

"Listen to all that friendly banter," Dempsey said sarcastically, clapping his hands, "You're getting along already. That's good. Cooperation will be key in passing this class. I hope all of you have picked your partners wisely, because your grades this semester won't just depend on your own performance, but your partners as well." Just about everyone groaned at that. Passing a class as a team meant putting in twice the effort, and if you were stuck with a lazy, no talent partner…

I'm…I'm in hell! And this man is the Devil! Erina thought, gripping her head in frustration. Someone, please wake me from this nightmare!

"Relax, Eri!" Dana gave her a smile and a thumb's up, "Don't worry about grades so much, and let's have some fun."

"Fun? Do you even know where you are? This is the Totsuki Culinary Academy for Fine Dining, it is not a place for goofing off. Someone like you who treats cooking as a game will not survive here. Listen up," Erina stepped up to Dana, so close that their noses were nearly touching. She glared, jabbing Dana with her finger, "I will not fail this class because of some wishy-washy stray. So until you get bored and quit, you will be silent and follow all of my orders, understand?"

Dana didn't reply.

Erina waited a few more seconds before saying, "Well? Do you understand or not? Answer me!"

"Oh? I thought you wanted me to be silent?"

"Shut up!"

"Huh? You get mad when I'm silent and mad when I talk?"

Chef Dempsey coughed, loudly clearing his throat. Dana and Erina paused their bickering and looked towards the front of the room. "Now then, as I was saying, our lessons in this class will not only cover English cuisine, but something I would consider far more valuable for prospective young chefs to learn. And that is… Communication."

"Um, communication, chef? That's the most valuable thing to learn?" Alice asked, raising her hand, "I guess I'm just not really sure how talking will help us become better cooks. I think having the best equipment and knowing how to use it would be way more important."

"You would," Erina muttered.

"Tell me, do you know of any gourmet restaurants that have only one cook in the kitchen?" Chef Dempsey asked, "Do they plate the food, make the sauces, cook the meat, prepare the ingredients, and wash the dishes all by themselves? If so, I'd like to meet them. In a kitchen where several chefs are working on separate parts of the same dish, it is important to communicate properly. It is easy for discourse to break loose in the kitchen, and the result would be a jumbled dish, a plate of food clearly put together by multiple people and not one kitchen."

Dempsey opened the draw of his desk and took out several sheets of paper and a dry erase mark. Turning his back on the class, he began writing on the whiteboard. The squeaking sound of the marker spread throughout the silent room. They waited for the teacher to finish writing with nervous anticipation.

"Today, you will each be making Beef Wellington," Dempsey said, tapping the stack of recipes piled on his desk, "It is a well-known steak dish, and considered a staple of western gourmet cooking. Working on opposite sides of the kitchen, you and your partner will each present a dish, and I will give you a grade based on how similar the two dishes are in both flavor and appearance."

Dempsey walked down the center of the classroom, handing out a pair of recipes to each group, "This assignment isn't about how well you can create a beef wellington. It is about how well you and your partner can communicate in a hectic kitchen while under pressure. I will give you all ten minutes to look over the recipe and strategize with your partners before we begin."

Skimming over the recipe, Dana said, "This seems pretty straightforward. Kinda a boring recipe with only the bare minimum ingredients listed. Did they dumb it down because of the added challenge of cooking two identical dishes?"

"Most likely," Erina replied, tying her hair up into a ponytail. "This is something even a mutt like you could cook. Don't bother altering the recipe without my permission. Your sole purpose for the next few hours is to do exactly as I say exactly when I say it."

"I'm cool with that."

"Seriously?" Erina looked at Dana skeptically, "You don't have any complaints or smart comebacks?"

Dana shook his head, "The way I see it, in order to pass this assignment it would work best to have one chef take the lead. They'll shout out what they're doing while the second chef follows along, voicing confirmation when they've finished each step, or if a complication has arisen. And I don't really care enough about it to argue with you. Have at it, glorious leader."

"How surprisingly astute of you." Erina smirked, "What do you know, I guess there is a brain in that head of yours."

"Oh you flatter me, Erina," Dana waved his hand, "This like, Cooking 101. There is a reason that kitchens are divided into head-chef and sous-chef. I'm sure you've heard the English idiom, 'too many cooks in the kitchen'. Two people trying to take charge will only lead to confusion."

"Just don't slow me down."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Wow, listen to them, Ryo," Alice commented, "They almost sound like a team, but there's no way that'll last. Their personalities are just way too forceful. Our dishes will definitely be better."

Dana and Erina looked across the aisle at Alice and her quiet partner. Dana smiled, and said, "That sounds like a challenge to me. What do you say, Erina and I versus you and Ryo. The winner gets, like—I don't know—bragging rights or something."

"Fine by me. Just don't cry when you lose."

Erina and Ryo shared a brief glance. In that moment, although they have never spoken to one another before, a feeling of mutual understanding sparked between them. They have both been saddled with loud and domineering partners that were quite troublesome. They released simultaneous sighs and walked over to their respective partners for some last minute strategising.

After the ten minutes were up, half of the students were sent to one side of the room, and the rest went to the other side. Chef Dempsey had already gathered the required ingredients and left them in baskets at each cooking station. Finally, the entire room was divided by an opaque plastic curtain.

With a shout of, "Begin!", the room filled with frantic scurrying and panicked yelling.

⸻2⸻

"We're starting with the Duxelles," Erina commanded, dumping mushrooms, garlic, shallots and thyme into the food processor, and on the other side of the room, Dana did the same. "Don't bother cutting them, just use the food processor. Let it run until they're finely chopped, almost like a paste."

I feel like I'm taking a cooking class, thought Dana as he followed Erina's instructions, pouring olive oil into a saute pan with some butter, and setting the burner to medium heat. Adding in their Duxelles mixture, he shook the pan and listened to it fry. Drizzling it with a splash of brandy, he and Erina simultaneously tipped their respective pans and ignited the alcohol, changing a saute into a flambe. Oh yeah, I am in a cooking class.

If he was being honest, Dana didn't think Erina would make a very good teacher. She moved at her own pace with little concern that he would have trouble keeping up. As far as she knew, Dana was a terrible cook and yet, she just kept on going as if assuming he was right there with her. Personally, he was glad that he knew all the techniques that she was barking at him, otherwise this whole situation would be utterly fucked.

Among the other students, few seemed to be following the strategy that Erina and Dana devised. The first ten minutes of the allotted cooking time was polluted by a disharmonious chorus of "What?" and "Huh?" and the always fun "Would you shut up and listen to me?". It was a real pain trying to talk to Erina through that category five shit-storm, but at least their agreement beforehand allowed the two of them to steer clear of that particular mess and focus on cooking.

Before long, their prosciutto was layered on a sheet of plastic wrap and coated in the duxelles. The beef tenderloin, which had been seared and seasoned, was placed on the end of the mushroom covered layer of cured ham. Using the plastic wrap, the entire thing was rolled into a log of seasoned beef, duxelles, and prosciutto, and set in the fridge to rest.

Next step was to heat the oven and roll out the puff pastry. Sprinkling a dash of flour onto the counter top, Dana plopped the dough and kneaded it. He rolled it out to about ¼ inch thickness, per Erina's instructions. A pair of eggs were cracked into a bowl and lightly scrambled with a fork, according to Erina, this would serve as an egg wash for browning the outside of the wellington.

While cutting the pastry to the proper size specifications for the dish, Dana called out to Erina about the type of decoration for the top of the beef wellington. The decorations were made using the same kind of pastry that enveloped the tenderloin. Lattices were the most common designs, although some chefs preferred things like leaves or dashes.

"Stick to a simple lattice pattern," Erina replied, taking her prosciutto rolled beef out of the fridge, "Make the diamonds exactly two centimeters long across the top and sides. Don't get sloppy." The plastic wrap was cut off, and the meat was placed in the center of the pastry. Dana did the same with his own hunk of meat. The pastry was folded over the tenderloin with the extra bits of dough on the ends tucked in.

Following his partner's specifications annoyed him, but it would be more annoying to him if his food looked crappy and half-assed. Dana understood the showmanship aspect of being a chef very well. With the care and delicate touch of an artist painting a beloved masterpiece, the egg was brushed on over the lattice. The yellow stained dough was put into the oven to bake.

"It's in," Dana said.

"Naturally," Erina called back.

Out of all the participants on his side of the curtain, their beef wellington was the only one in the oven. The individual he had been sharing his work space with had only just finished rolling out her pastry dough and was in the midst of a heated argument with her partner over the shape of the decoration. The other students weren't fairing much better. What a waste of time.

Dana could hear Alice shouting commands at Ryo. They were supposed to be having a 2-on-2 challenge, but with how slow Ryo was at cooking; it wasn't much of a competition. The exasperation in Alice's voice was overwhelming as she growled at her partner. The dull-eyed boy nodded along, practically asleep on his feet.

Erina might be bossy, mused Dana, but at least she knows what she's doing.

⸻3⸻

Once everyone's beef wellingtons were in the oven, the curtain dividing the room was pulled back. Keeping the partners separated didn't matter much anymore. It was too late to really change anything if the dishes didn't match. The only thing left to do was take them out of the oven and pray that it turned out.

With her beef wellington completed, Erina decided that she and Dana would present their dishes first. None of the other students were finished yet anyway. They had spent far too much time bickering in the early stages of the challenge. Ironically, it was the duo that argued the most before the challenge started that worked the best together.

It was no surprise to anyone that Erina Nakiri's beef wellington turned out perfect. The lattice pattern was executed perfectly and the pastry was a delectable golden-brown. The biggest surprise was that Dana Alouette, the new kid on the block, made one identical to her.

"Whoa! I guess that's what happens when you're paired with a member of the Elite Ten," commented one of the faceless classmates, "Aw man! I wish she was my partner." The person they were standing next to punched them in the arm.

"That's weird," Dana said, holding a plate with his own golden-brown wellington, "I'm not a member of the Elite Ten yet."

"Idiot. They were obviously talking about me," said Erina, turning her nose up at her partner. She approached Dempsey's desk with a little extra swagger in her steps.

"Is that any way to treat your beloved partner?" Dana trotted after her, setting his plate on the teacher's desk as well.

"Beloved? You are at best tolerable. And you should be feel honored with that much."

"Hold on, you're a member of the Elite Ten? That's right, I think Hishoko said something about that."

"You really are a little slow, aren't you?" Erina put a hand to her chest and smiled haughtily, "You're in the presence of the 10th Seat of the Elite Ten Council. No matter how much you struggle, scratching and clawing your way to the top—you'll only ever be second best. That's because I am a member of the 92nd Generation, and let's face it, none of you could ever measure up to me."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you don't have many friends, do you?"

"That is irrelevant!" Erina snapped.

"Oh damn, so I was right."

"If you don't mind," Chef Dempsey interjected before Erina could respond, "I have finished studying the exterior of your dishes and would like to continue my judgment in peace. Is that alright with you, Miss Nakiri, Mr. Alouette? If not, I could always forgo the judging and give you both an E immediately. That way, you two could keep arguing without me interrupting you. Is that what you both want?"

"Please enjoy, sir!" the two students said together, forcing smiles on their faces. Dempsey rolled his eyes and looked down at the twin plates of beef wellington. Gripping Erina's with a fork, he sliced the end off with a sharp knife. The beef wellington held its shape, and the smell of cooked beef filled the room. The meat was a perfect medium-rare. Carving into Dana's, the results were the same.

"Nicely done, you two," complemented Chef Dempsey, cutting the slice of beef into a bite-sized piece. Putting it in his mouth, the awesome juicy flavor of the tenderloin melted his brain as the meat melted in his mouth. The umami of the mushrooms, the tenderness of the steak, and the crunch of the pastry…It was like he was dining with Duke Wellington himself.

He tried the second beef wellington, and the same explosion of flavor rocketed in his mouth. Wait, which one was Erina's again? He couldn't tell based only on the taste. They were…

"The same…," Dempsey muttered, glancing between the two dishes. "Erina Nakiri and Dana Aloutette, you both get an A." The students silently observing broke out into hushed whispers. He'd have to keep an eye on those two. It had been quite awhile since a pair of first years like them had come around. They just might be the flag bearers for the 92nd Generation.

"There is no way they were the same," Erina said, tasting some of Dana's beef wellington for herself. She had to admit that the dish was fairly well done. Much better than she was expecting based on her initial impression of him. "I can taste at least seven ways your dish deviates from mine. I suppose for a complete amateur, it is adequate."

"Wow, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Dana clapped his hands together once. "Okay, I've decided that we're friends now. You know, it's been five years since we've gotten to hang out. We've got a lot of catching up to do"

"Excuse me? You can't just declare someone is your friend! I did not agree to this."

"Beggars can't be choosers, Eri. A lonely girl like you needs all the friends she can get," Dana said as the two began to walk back to their cooking station. "Hey, you should come over to the Polar Star Dorm tonight. I'm planning on cooking up a pheasant. It's gonna be totally delicious."

"Ugh, my palate is much too refined to be subjected to whatever vile creation you cook up."

"Okay, so I'm gonna put you down as a maybe." Dana took out his notebook to jot down Erina's name when he noticed several messages on his phone from Rindo. "It's on! Friday at 5 pm! I even booked us the biggest arena possible! So don't flake out on me! P.S. I'll see ya soon to hash out the details! P.P.S. I won't give you any hints about what I'm making, so don't even ask. P.P.P.S. You can ask, but only if you beg. Just kidding, unless…;)"

That's right, in all the excitement of class he had almost forgotten. He has an upcoming Food War with Rindo Kobayashi.

⸻4⸻

Earlier That Morning:

"You want to challenge me to a Food War?" Dana asked, looking up from the knife he was cleaning. Food Wars, also known as Shokugeki, were how students at Totsuki settled disputes. Each participant would wager something like knives or cooking space, and then go head to head in a cooking battle. The winner takes all.

He knew of their existence, thanks to Isshiki and the other Polar Star Dorm members, but he hadn't partaken in one before.

"That's right," Rindo said, "If you win, you'll become the new 2nd Seat of the Elite Ten, but if I win… You have to become my servant for the rest of my time here at Totsuki."

"What do you mean by that? Wait a minute… You're the 2nd Seat!?"

Rindo laughed, cutting the tension and ruining the intimidating atmosphere of the kitchen. "So you really didn't know? I didn't think there were any students that wouldn't recognize me."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't know the Elite Ten existed until, like, last month."

"You're weird, and I love it. To answer your question—I want you to become my servant. You know: follow my orders, act as my sous chef, and basically do all the stuff that I don't want to do myself. In other words, you'll be like my personal assistant, or a slave. Considering I'm risking my Council Seat, I think that's an adequate wager."

"I don't know… becoming a slave sounds like it would totally suck," Dana said, setting the knife back on the magnet strip running along the backsplash. He tapped his temple as he mulled over the pros and cons of his upperclassman's offer. "I guess I'll just have to win."

"Does that mean—"

"Yep," Dana held out his hand, "I accept your challenge, Rindo Kobayashi." She smiled like a savage beast, showing off her sharp canine teeth, and shook Dana's hand. It felt like he just made a deal with the Devil.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you just because we're kinda sorta friends now. You better come prepared, or I'll eat you alive. And, because I like you so much, I'll even let you use any of the ingredients in this room for your dish."

"I see, that way you'll have an excuse for when you lose," Dana replied with his own animalistic smile. Anticipation was building in his body, vibrating his bones and sending tingles down his spine. "So what are we gonna cook? These Food Wars normally have a theme I think."

Rindo blinked. "I didn't think that far ahead."

The smell of their jambalaya tickled Dana's nose, and he glanced at the pot on the stove. "What about that?"

"Jambalaya? You want to make Cajun cuisine?"

"Hmmm, That seems kinda limiting." Dana stroked his beardless chin, thinking more about it. He pointed his finger up at the ceiling, struck by inspiration. "Ah, Ding-ding! What if our theme was soup?"

"What, like any kind of soup?"

"Yeah, that way we have a lot more options. It'll be fun to see what you'll come up with."

"Sure. I'm good with that." Rindo pulled out her cellphone, "Lets exchange contact information, so that we can meet up and go over the final paperwork."

"Okay, I live at Polar Star Dormitory. It's on-campus so it shouldn't be all that hard to find me." Dana fished out his own phone and exchanged numbers with Rindo. His eyes drifted to the top of the phone, more specifically the time. Class started in less than ten minutes, and he had no idea where the room was. "Oh crap! I gotta go! I can't be late to class!"

Dana tried to sprint out of the room, but Rindo latched onto his chef's coat, and said, "Wait! Let me write you a note."

⸻5⸻

Back in Class…

"Alright, we're done!" cheered Alice, holding up her beef wellington, "There's no way we're gonna lose to you, Dana, Erina!" She looked around the room, but neither of them was in sight. "Wait, where did they go?"

"Um, they served their wellington and left already, Miss Alice," Ryo informed her, his own wellington in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I just shouted all that embarrassing stuff for no reason!" Alice kicked Ryo in the back of the legs.

"You're going to make me drop my dish, Miss Alice."

"Oh, who even cares anymore!" Alice looked up at the ceiling. "This isn't over! I'll definitely get my revenge!"

"Can we present our dishes now?" Ryo asked Dempsey while Alice ranted in the background, "I kinda want to go home."

End of Chapter

⸻Author's Note⸻

Hello Everyone! Much like the Manga/Anime I don't think I will cover the actual classes of Totsuki very often. Besides, Dana is the type to learn more by doing than from classes. Also the theme of the Food War has also been revealed… It's Soup! Just like the name of the Arc! Wow! What a coincidence. Just Kidding!

Sleepily Yours,

A Horseshoe Crab

Chapter Word Count: 4,913

Arc Word Count: 19,850

Story Word Count: 19,850