Disclaimer: I do not own Food Wars.
A Favor
"Talking"
"Thinking"
The residents of Polar Star Dormitory weren't quite sure what to make of the newcomer. After everything that had happened, including Central and their rigging of the Shokugeki, things didn't look good. Now this stranger was standing in their doorway.
The dorm mother, Fumio Daimidō, stepped closer to the stranger and looked him over. He was a Westerner, that much was obvious. And he was old. He wore his grey hair with respect, same with the lines on his face. He had a strong build for his age and his clothes showed he must've been traveling. "Can I help you?" she asked him.
"This is Polar Star Dorm, right?" His voice was a gruff tone, one that demanded people paid attention.
"It is." She scowled. "Were you sent by Azami?" As if they needed something else to worry about.
He didn't take long to consider his answer. "Nope, I was sent by Senzaemon."
Erina couldn't stop her small gasp of surprise. "Grandfather?"
The newcomer zoned in on the gasp, on her. Dropping his duffel on the ground, he walked up to her. The dorm's residents started to stand in his way but froze at his look. He stood before Erina and looked her over. Erina didn't know who this man was, but she matched his look with her own. She was a Nakiri and wielder of the God Tongue. Whoever this man was, he would soon understand where he stood in comparison to her.
"So," he finally said, "you're the future Pervert, are ya?"
It was a safe bet that no one expected that question.
Erina spluttered, her face turning red. "Wh-What?"
"Oh, was I wrong?"
"H-How dare you call me that? I am not a pervert!"
He shrugged. "Alright, what you prefer to be called? The heir to the Strippers? The Flasher-in-training?" With each title, he sent her into further spluttering. The other residents stared at him in shock, Isshiki in mild surprise. The only one who found it funny was Sōma.
Hisako had enough. She got in front of Erina and tried staring down the newcomer. "Watch your mouth! Don't you know who this is?" she demanded.
"If I'm right, the reason I was called."
It took Erina a moment to realize what he had said and understand it. Her grandfather had summoned this man? For her? She quickly pushed her embarrassment aside and fixed the man with her best superior look. "And just how well do you know my grandfather?" she demanded.
"Well enough to know why he's pretty much banned from the States," he said with a knowing grin. "So, you're Erina."
"And you are quite rude, not to introduce yourself."
"Ah, knew I forgot something." He extended his hand. "The name's Tom McKann." Fumio paled at the name and looked at him with new eyes.
It was a look Erina hadn't noticed. She was too busy focused on the hand and the man it belonged to. She gave him a brief nod but didn't shake the hand. "And I take it you are a chef of some renown, here to teach me?" It was a ludicrous idea, but she was willing to humor him for the moment.
He pulled his hand back, more amused than insulted. "I run a soup kitchen in New York."
Ah, there it was. That's where he stood. She gave him a dismissive look, one accompanied by a sniff. "Well, since you clearly aren't a graduate from Tōtsuki, I don't see how someone like you can teach me. After all, I am Erina Nakiri, the one who wields the God Tongue."
"Have you learned how to turn it off?"
One question and the hall went silent. The residents stared at him with stunned looks. Erina and Hisako were the most stunned, with the former gobsmacked. "Wh-What?"
The newcomer smiled with amusement, as if he was watching a kitten learning to hunt. "Shows what you know, then." He turned around and headed for the door, pausing to glance at Sōma. "Kid, you're the one who's got that fight tomorrow, right?"
Sōma just nodded. "Yeah, that's me."
"I'll be there." That was all he was going to say on the matter. He picked up his duffel and he headed for the door.
"W-Wait just a minute!" Erina demanded, getting her voice back. "Just what do you think you're doing here?"
"Helping," he answered without looking back. "Your gramps might say he called in a favor, but I say he finally caved." He glanced over at Fumio, who was still pale. "I take it you've heard of me?" She nodded. He didn't say anything else.
Everyone looked to her as he left. "Ms. Fumio," asked Megumi, "who was that?"
"…The greater of both good and evil," she answered in a shaky voice. As her eyes looked at everyone, they focused on Erina. "The story goes that, in his youth, Senzaemon came across a child on the streets of New York, an orphan that was starving. He took the child to a restaurant and treated him to a meal, only for the child to spit out everything he ate, crying that he could taste everything wrong with the meal. Senzaemon realized this child had a rare gift: the God Tongue.
"Deciding to nurture this gift, Senzaemon took the child as his charge and taught him everything about cooking and fine dining. He helped the child train and hone his gift, allowing him to taste everything the world had to offer. More than that, the boy showed he had skill in the kitchen, a skill that complemented his gift. By the time he was twenty, he was able to stand at the top of the culinary world.
"But instead, he walked away, choosing to work as a cook whenever he is needed. Yet even then, he didn't let his gift go to waste. He's willing to taste and judge the work of any chef looking for him. An option that they run at their own risk."
It was foreboding, the way she spoke. The dorm mother certainly did think highly of the stranger. Yet Erina while surprised that someone else had the God Tongue (she only knew of two, including herself), she wasn't impressed. "So he's just like me, only in a different country." And he wasn't even in a well-respected kitchen. Small wonder she had never heard of him.
But then Ms. Fumio looked at her and a chill washed over her. "No, Erina Nakiri. You are like him. You might have the top-rated kitchens, chefs, and companies in Japan as your clients, but if Tom McKann wanted, he could have that power, worldwide." She gave them a moment to understand those words before she continued. "Given the choice, your clients would still choose to be judged by you. Because with you, they have a chance."
The words left a chill in their spines, a chill that didn't quite leave. "What does that mean?" Yūki asked.
"In the world of fine dining, and especially amongst Tōtsuki alumni, that man is known as the Reaper. Erina's grandfather didn't call in a favor. He called in a tactical nuclear warhead."
Sōma didn't really give the stranger any more thought, not when he had a Shokugeki to have. Yet when he and Etsuya Eizan arrived at the match room, there was Tom McKann waiting for them, sitting at the judge's table as if he belonged there, alongside a large trashbin.
What happened next, no one had expected. Sōma had been a little surprised that Chef McKann introduced and declared himself to be their judge. If he had been surprised, Eizan had been floored and then outraged. The 7th Seat protested, arguing that there were supposed to be three judges.
"You mean the ones you know personally and asked to judge?" asked the new judge with a smirk. Eizan didn't have an answer to that, only a glare. "Get cooking," he told them, leaning back in his chair.
Eizan didn't like the change, but he could make do. He was aware of McKann and his reputation. But he was sure he could win the match. He still had his other move, taunting Sōma that his dorm's demolition had been moved up to today. Sōma reacted in his usual manner, so Eizan decided to teach him his place. Good thing they had a camera recording the whole thing.
Their new judge didn't react as they cooked. All he did was watch. Yet it was the watching that made the air seem different, not just to Eizan or Sōma but to Rindō Kobayashi, the 2nd seat who decided to observe. It wasn't the gaze of a predator, waiting to pounce on its prey. No, this was something else, some much less defined.
Yet a person wouldn't know it by looking at the man. Tom McKann simply relaxed in his chair, reading a book. He wouldn't have been out of place in a diner or restaurant, simply passing the time until his meal had arrived.
Eizan didn't like his attitude. Why wasn't he paying attention to the Shokugeki? He was supposed to be the judge! Well, it didn't matter. Eizan had finished first, like he expected. "Dig in," he said, putting his Hainanese Chicken Rice before the judge.
Chef McKann put his book aside and ate the meal. He took one bite, chewed, swallowed, and then threw up into the trash bin.
"…What?" thought the combatants, their observer, and the entirety of Tōtsuki Academy. The move threw everyone for a loop. This wasn't some little action where the judge was trying to politely spit out a bad taste. No, this was the kind of vomiting where his body rejected that single bite and did everything it could to get rid of it. It was noisy and the smell didn't waste time emanating from the bin.
It ended just as quick as it started. Chef McKann spat out the last remnants and washed out his mouth with a bottle of water. "Ah, glad that's done with," he said.
Eizan was flabbergasted. His dish had been perfect, the right meal to defeat Sōma's before it was even done. How could this judge have had this sort of reaction? That shouldn't have happened! "Is everything alright?" he asked, doing his best to remain in control.
"It is. I'm ready to make my ruling." The words came out nice and loud, so everyone could hear it.
The words surprised Eizan. Then it turned into a disgusting sneer. "I'm sorry if you're not aware of the Shokugeki rules. But you must also try my opponent's dish before you can make your decision," he explained.
Those blue eyes found him, and a chill crossed his soul. "This stopped being a Shokugeki when I took over," he declared. "The only one being judged is you, Etsuya Eizan." He picked up the plate and, in a motion that showed his experience, dumped the dish into the bin. "And you've failed."
The entire Academy was stunned silent by that. Even Rindō's mouth was agape. Eizan recovered, using his anger to energize him. "You can't make that kind of decision just like that! I haven't even given you the sauces!"
"It doesn't matter. I've tasted your dish and I know everything about it." Those eyes never left him. "And through it, I know you."
"That's—!"
"Why did you treat this like a fight?" The question stopped Eizan short. "I'm a customer. I didn't come here to see you fight someone else via cooking, no matter what kind of tricks you used. I came here for a meal. You've let this concept of Shokugeki cloud your mind, letting it take hold and establish short-lived prominence. Do you think that a Shokugeki will do you any good in the real world, when people want what they want in a timely fashion. The customer doesn't care if you've got beef with someone. They just want their food.
"But of course, that's not all you're fighting, are you?" His lips smirked, showing just a hint of teeth. "Do you think your father thinks what you do is important?" Eizan's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. But the judge wasn't done. "You've been doing this since middle school. You claim that you've done all this to get money and consultations. But money's not the goal, it's the method. You want to impress your father, to show that you're able to do something with your life. Yet, no matter what you accomplish or achieve, it's not going to impress him. Because he already knows his son will only go about things the right way when his preferred methods can't work."
Sōma was still cooking but he kept an eye on things. So was Rindō but she had the better view of Eizan's gaping expression. He could've been a statue because of how frozen he was. "H-How?" he managed to stutter out.
Chef McKann was still smirking. "I tasted it all, in your dish. Past the flavors, the method, the ingredients, and their flaws, I saw you. Your greed to win, your willingness to use any method no matter what it is, your desperation to get your father's notice, and that little nugget of shame that knows you won't ever get it because you can't do it right. Your tactics might serve you here, Etsuya Eizan, but things are different in the world. You continue on this path, eventually you will be arrested or killed because of your choices. And your father will still not be impressed."
If it was possible for Eizan's soul to flee his body, it would've done so in that moment. This judge, this stranger, had seen past everything he showed the world and saw him. Through one bite, he knew Eizan's cooking style, his attitude, and what drove him. It shouldn't have been possible.
But it was.
Eizan looked at Chef McKann again and saw him for the first time. He had thought the man's reputation was a bit overblown. It wasn't. It was completely justified. This man had tasted what he had to offer and broke everything he was through it. There was no arguing against his words.
He truly was the Reaper. And Etsuya had been found wanting.
The judge stood up and packed his book away. "So, I expect you to call off your boys," he told Eizan, who could only nod numbly. He glanced at Sōma. "Is there enough gyōza for everyone?"
Sōma nodded. "Yeah. It's about done too." With the last few flourishes, his cheese-feathered Hanetsuki Gyōza was ready to be served. He approached the judge with a plate and his usual confidence. "Order up."
"Be sure to save some for you and Eizan," Chef McKann remarked as he took the plate. "He looks like he could use a pick-me-up." The gyoza popped right into his mouth, not lasting more than a few seconds. "Tasty." That was all he said about the food. He noticed Sōma's expecting look. "Were you expecting some other reaction from me?"
"Well, you did throw up, a lot." It seemed a bit ridiculous that he threw up that much from a single bite. Yet the adult ate his gyoza without any problem.
The judge glanced at Eizan, who still rooted in his spot and trying to understand where he had gone in his life. "I was judging him, not you." And that was all he said on the matter.
Rindō stopped him just before he left. "Well, this certainly didn't go the way Etsuya expected," she remarked. But while she was smiling, her eyes never left him. "But do you really think that this match will be accepted?"
"He lost," Chef McKann answered. "Simple as that. Besides, this isn't the first time I've done this."
"Oh? You've judged a Council member before? That must've been interesting."
He matched her gaze with his own. "This academy has been around for nearly a century, and its Council members certainly do make themselves known. So tell me, why is it you've only heard of a few members still around?" She didn't have the answer. He did. "Because sooner or later, the cocky ones who want more find their way to me, and they learn just where they stand."
Those words held nothing but absolute truth, yet still made her bones trembled. She refused to let him see such a thing, though. "You certainly are confident." She smirked and gave him a flirty little hip action. "I wonder if you'd be able to handle me."
The adult just shook his head and gave her an amused chuckle. "Graduate first, little girl, then come find me. In the meantime, why don't you ask that chairman of yours what happened to some of his classmates after Tōtsuki." He left her considering his words.
It wasn't the last time Sōma saw the man that day. He appeared back at the dorm, treating everyone to a special treat: breakfast for dinner.
And it was a full Western breakfast. The students stared at the pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage links, hash browns, all cooked to perfection. Butter, syrup, and other condiments waited by the food. If there was a small pool of drool on the floor, no one was going to own up or stop.
"Well?" the meal's creator asked. "You guys have had a hard day. Dig in already."
Yūki was the first to approach the table. "Oh, we will! Thank you, Chef McKann!"
His eyes flashed and he pointed a finger at her. She froze in place, hands already reaching for a plate. "That's Cook McKann," he said. "I'm not a chef. Never have been, never will be. A cook is what I am."
To the layman, a chef and a cook would be the same thing. But the Tōtsuki students knew the difference. They were all aspiring chefs and had thought the man before was the same. But he declared himself to be just a cook. If they hadn't witness how he demolished one of the Ten, they might've wondered why he was here.
But they had, and they knew his power. "S-Sorry," Yūki gulped, already nervous.
The finger disappeared and a kind smile took its place. "It's alright. You didn't know. Please, enjoy yourselves."
It was a command they obeyed with gusto. But while they enjoyed themselves, Erina eyed the food and him. She had witness the Shokugeki just like everyone else, had seen him utterly destroy Etsuya with a single bite. Ms. Fumio had called him the Reaper. He certainly lived up to the name.
But it left her with a question. "Did you enjoy it?" Everyone looked at her, pausing the meal. "Judging Eizan like that? Ripping his reasons and skills apart?"
Thomas simply smirked. "I see you've heard about the Reaper. It's a handy nickname that gets the point across. But personally, I prefer my other nickname."
"Other nickname?" He had two?
"Saint." As she heard the name, he glanced at the table. There was a stack of pancakes right in front of her. "Go ahead and eat."
She frowned just a little but took a bite from the pancakes.
She understood.
Erina had always prided herself on how fine her palate was, how cultured her life had been. She was queen of everything she had seen. When she cooked, her meal was the finest thing people could wish they could taste. If someone was to paint a picture of her, it would've been a picture of her dressed in royalty, crown on her head, scepter in hand, and people kneeling before her in her castle.
It was meaningless.
Compared to this man, her castle was nothing more than a house, her throne a chair, and her attire a costume. He saw everything she had and was amused by her antics. Him, a stranger who had walked into everything she ruled, was amused. And why shouldn't he be, when he stood taller and could reach further than she ever could?
Ms. Fumio had called him the greater of both good and evil.
That meant she was the lesser.
And…she found she couldn't argue against it.
She swallowed the bite and looked at Tom McKann. Her fork wanted to stab through more of the pancakes and eat them. Her pride tried to hold it place, to have her meet his eyes. It was a battle she lost. The pancakes weren't the only she ate. She sampled everything and reveled in the deliciousness before her, just like everyone else.
It led her to one conclusion. "You really do have the God Tongue," she said once she finished eating. Only someone with a tongue like hers could create something as fantastic as this.
Her declaration made him laugh. "I used to. Now it's grown into something else, the World Tongue."
Something more than the God Tongue? If she hadn't witnessed it, she wouldn't have believed it. For so long, the God Tongue ruled all. This was different. Once she realized this, it also made her annoyed. "You could have the world at your feet, yet you choose to work at a soup kitchen?" she demanded, stabbing the air with her fork. "Why would you waste your gift like that?"
Everyone else fell silent as they waited for his answer. He finished off his sausage and answered, "Your gramps and I have fought over that more times than I care to count." His eyes looked to the ceiling and yet far away. "Sometimes it became more than just arguing."
"What does that mean?"
His eyes came back down and found her. "Ever wonder where he got that scar over his eye?"
Everyone's collective breath hitched. Senzaemon's scar was a part of him. No one asked where or how he got it but that didn't mean there weren't plenty of theories. Yet now, there was a possible answer before them. All they needed to do was ask.
Hisako was the one who dared. "You mean…you're the one…?"
"Admittedly, it was an accident," Thomas clarified, waving it away. "Neither of us checked where the knives were on the table." What promised to be an answer only turned out to be vague. No one was sure how to feel about that. He certainly didn't waste any time on it. "It's not your problem. It's between me and your gramps and we're still friends."
Now that, Erina had a hard time believing. The man sitting across from her had all but announced he had wounded her grandfather and he said they were still friends? She shook the question out of her head. There wasn't a point to it now.
What was the point was why the man was here. "So, I take it you're going to train me in order to achieve this World Tongue?" she asked. He laughed and she saw red. This wasn't a laughing matter!
"You're adorable, kid," Thomas told her. "But you've gotta learn how to walk before you even think of running. Right now, you're going to be training your God Tongue."
The words meant well but she was insulted by them. She wasn't the only one. Hisako might've been awed by the man's judging prowess but that didn't mean he got to insult her friend. "Ms. Erina has already been trained on how to use the God Tongue," she said.
"No, she's only been using it. There's a difference." He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I'm just glad Senzaemon finally saw reason." Erina's gaze fell on him, which he felt. "If he had let me do this the first time around, you'd still have your mother."
The admission floored her. Even after her father had been forced away, the subject of her mother was taboo amongst the Nakiri family. Most days, she was content to put her mother out of mind. And she was willing to do it again. This man had the ability to turn his God Tongue off and it seemed he was willing to teach her the same.
The decision came easily. She'd have to be a fool to refuse it. "Very well, I will see what you have to offer," she declared.
His smile turned into a smirk, showing just a hint of teeth. "Good. We'll start tomorrow." The smirk vanished and he relaxed. "Any other questions?"
"Uh, yeah, I've got one," said Sōma, getting everyone's attention. "You said Dean Senzaemon is banned from the United States. Why is that?"
This time, the smirk showed the teeth. "Multiple arrests for Public Indecency," he answered, raising a finger for each word.
End
Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.
I came across Food Wars when only the first two seasons were dubbed. And Erina kinda irked me. This was the person who stood at the top of the cooking world? She was still in high school! I did learn about what happened to her the more I watched, but I still felt she needed to be brought down a peg. After all, there is always someone better.
Hence Thomas. He's what Erina might become, given time and experience. His World Tongue can taste everything the God's Tongue can, but it also goes further. He can see everything about the cook, who and what they are, why they do what they do, both the impressive and the pathetic. Just like Eizan.
But he would also remember his roots. Unlike Erina, he grew up on the streets and had starved more often than not. He might've gotten away, but others wouldn't have been so fortunate. So, he tries to give back with his soup kitchen, ensuring people are fed. The concept of a Shokugeki doesn't impress him. In his mind, no one comes to a restaurant to see a cooking fight. They came to eat and enjoy a meal. More often than not, they don't even see the chef.
As for that remark regarding Erina being the future Pervert and her grandfather being banned from the States, it was too good to pass up. Let's face it, Dean Senzaemon strips every time he enjoys good food. If he did that every time he was in a restaurant, he's going to get kicked out.
I'll see you all next chapter!
