AN: I know, weird crossover and one I'm sure a lot of you didn't expect from me. But this was yet another idea of mine that just wouldn't leave me alone.

There were two things that were my major inspirations. First was the idea that canonically Bruce is a lousy cook and secondly, with a such a diverse rogue's gallery, Batman has never faced a chef-themed villain.

Except that he did...in the Filmation cartoon. Of course this one is going to be my own twisted and psychotic interpretation of the character. Evil chefs can be pretty scary.

This chapter was supposed to be much longer but as I've stated in my profile, shorter chapters like these are going be the norm for me now.

Batman and all related characters and elements are trademarks of DC Comics. Batman is created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger.

Shokugeki no Soma/Food Wars! is created by Yūto Tsukuda and Shun Saeki.

CHAPTER 01: Someone to Take Care of You

With a scoop of a spoon, one of the judges brought close to his mouth a small chunk of succulent lamb that glistened with the red caramelized gravy. He stayed his hand, letting the aroma waft to his nose before taking a bite.

When he did, his eyes widened as he felt a rush of flavors envelop his soul like a crimson wind carrying him off the ground.

"This…! This is the best Mutton Rogan Josh I ever tasted!" Stephen Court exclaimed.

The man, lean and handsome with messy black hair, stabbed lightly at the meat with his spoon and marveled at its softness.

"The lamb is so tender that it falls off the bone and the vivid red has been masterfully brought out."

The second judge, a woman in her 40s with long curly blond hair and a body that exhibits sexual gusto, took a bite and was taken so much by its deliciousness that she cried out in an orgasmic fashion.

"Ooooh! This taste!" Sharon Harshaw moaned.

The woman's cheeks went pink as she imagined herself dressed as a belly dancer and lying on an intricate bedding within a Mughal palace as a bronze skinned warlord loomed over her.

"It's like I'm a princess being ravaged by a beefcake sultan!" she exclaimed with excitement.

Another judge next to her, an elderly Japanese man wearing a kimono and having his hair tied in a samurai-style top knot, took a bite with a piece of naan and had a visible reaction much like his two colleagues.

"The spices…the sweet undertone…the tart of the lemon." Taiji Ikemitsu spoke in utter awe.

"Usually, to have so many opposing flavors would lead to one overwhelming the other like a fierce battle between nations."

Taiji envision a battlefield of samurais of different colored armors clashing, much like a scene from the Sengoku period. But that scene soon morphed into one where the different soldiers were shaking hands, embracing and slinging their arms over each other's shoulders.

"But here, they are in perfect harmony! Unified in peace and tranquility!" Taiji declared.

The fourth and final judge, a blonde middle-aged British man, also sampled it with a piece of naan and his body recoiled just as the other three had.

"Exquisite texture." Jeremy Greene hummed, his taste buds floating in ecstasy.

"That marination technique of yours to get this meat so tender at such a short time was nothing short of genius! Well done, my friend." he gave the chef his compliments.

"I think we are all unanimous on this one. Aren't we, Judges?" Stephen asked them.

The judges nodded in accord and Stephen extended his arm towards the two contestant chefs who stood anxiously before them.

"This Round's winner goes to…"

There was a pause and then…

"And CUT!" the Director yelled out. "Alright everyone, we're back in twenty!"

The cameraman relaxed and so did everyone else on set. As the judges chatted among themselves with the crew members walking by them murmuring, the two contestant chefs released a breath of relief; though one more rueful than the other.

"Guess I'm out of the running then." one of the contestants sighed. "You and I both know that we don't need Stephen to tell us that."

The contestant chef, a middle aged Australian man named Hardy Willis, turned to his opponent with a smile and offered his hand to shake.

"Still, that was an amazing dish. Top class cooking, mate!"

His opponent, a man of south Indian origin named Venkat Ragunathan, grinned and accepted the gesture of sportsmanship.

"Thank you, Hardy. Your dish was excellent as well." he said.

"Great work you two!"

Both the contestant chefs turned to see a woman in a power suit approach them holding a clipboard in her hand. She had slightly short stature with dark bob cut hair and a very pretty face with Asian features.

"Now, I'll need you guys to head over to the next room over there so we can record your confessionals." she gave a friendly smile as she instructed them.

Hardy and Venkat nodded and did as they were asked while the woman hurriedly darted back and forth across the set, shouting instructions for the crew.

"Everyone! Can we prep the stations ready for our next contestants? We need the ingredients restocked ASAP! And the Mystery Boxes! Don't forget the Mystery Boxes! Oof!"

She bumped into something hard and fell back on her rump with her clipboard clattering by her side.

"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to get in your way." came a familiar voice.

As the woman gathered her things and smoothed her hair, the voice immediately caught her attention. And when she looked up, her face lit up and her lips opened into a pleasant wide smile.

"Bruce!" she cried happily.

The man in question, decked in a charming business suit, smiled back at her while bending down to offer a hand to help her up. He was certainly a sight for her sore eyes.

"Hello, Phoebe. You've grown so much since I last saw you." Bruce said.

As Phoebe slipped her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled up, she unabashedly took in his face. Aside from some fine lines over his brow and crinkles on the sides of his eyes, he looked like he barely aged, just as handsome as she remembered him. However she did notice that his smile bordered on tiredness, like the passage of time had taken a toll on him.

"Haha! I guess I have." she bashfully chuckled. "I was hoping I'd get to see you today."

Bruce shrugged.

"Well, it is my penthouse so I was bound to show up eventually." he said in lighthearted manner.

It was one of many he owned that dotted all over Gotham, large spacious, two storeys and had a wide corner-to-corner window wall that overlooked the sparkling city landscape at night. Phoebe was glad that Bruce was kind enough to loan it to them to use as a set for the show.

"Seriously, thank you so much for this. Because of you, this season of 'Ultrachef International Showdown' gonna be the best we've ever made!" expressed both her gratitude and her excitement.

On that note, she suddenly remembered something that she had been curious about but never got the chance to bring it up with him during their earlier conversations.

"You know, I never got to ask you but: Have you ever watched the show before, Bruce?"

Bruce panned his sights around the busy set with a wry smile.

"Truthfully? I have no idea what's going on." he admitted.

Phoebe looked at him weirdly with a raised brow. She thought he would've at least watched a few episodes or even clips before signing on with them. But then again, she was told that he can be really busy and might not have the time to know all the details.

"Well, as you can see, it's a culinary competition reality show." she said, gesturing at the set behind her. "It used be just standard elimination rounds but this time around, we're employing a tournament format featuring one on one Shokugeki-style battles."

"Shokugeki-style?" Bruce asked curiously.

The young Japanese girl realized her flub and recalled that he probably wasn't familiar with the term.

"Oh. Let me explain: a Shokugeki, or Food War, is a cooking duel that was practiced by the students of Totsuki Academy."

Bruce was familiar with Totsuki Academy, the most prestigious culinary school in Japan. After all, he remembered that he had enrolled Phoebe there at the request of her mother.

The whole 'Shokugeki' thing was something he was unaware of.

"It used to be used as means of settling differences between students but these days, it has gained popularity even in other countries. Usually, the combatants are responsible for bringing their own ingredients but in this case, we're the ones who supply the materials and stipulate the conditions to allow a fair and balanced competition."

"And the winner gets $500,000 as the grand prize?" asked Bruce in a coy fashion.

"That's right, Mister Sponsor." Phoebe replied with a knowing wink. "Not to mention prestige and a chance to open their own restaurant!"

"That sounds wonderful."

Although Bruce had some misgiving in the beginning, he was glad that he'd get to make someone's dreams come true. Especially if they, by chance, decide to open their restaurant here in Gotham. This city could use new businesses, more jobs.

That line of thinking caused his smile to slowly fade and he addressed the woman with a more sympathetic tone.

"By the way, Phoebe. How's your mother doing?"

"Oh."

The mirth from woman's face drained instantly and Bruce felt like a heel for bringing it up.

"She's alright. Her…her mind is not all there, that's all."

Phoebe said so in a somber and awkward fashion, tapping at the side of her head.

Early stages of Alzheimer's, he guessed.

"I'm sorry. That must be hard."

"It's okay." she smiled reassuringly. "She's being looked after well and I make enough to keep it that way."

It had been a relief to Bruce when he heard that she had got a big break as a TV producer, especially after he had also heard that her training in Totsuki didn't turn out so well.

After everything the girl had been through, she deserved a fresh start in life. In honesty, he never thought that he'd meet her again in Gotham like this.

Gotham was in fact Phoebe Nakamura's original home, born from Japanese migrant parents hoping to open a restaurant together. It was seven years ago when Bruce had arranged for Phoebe's mother to return to Japan with her daughter after the death of her husband.

He found it quite heartening to see Phoebe completely healed from her ordeal.

But he knew damn well that some scars never heal.

"Fifteen minutes, people!"

Bruce was brought out of his musing at sound of the director's yelling. Phoebe nearly jumped in surprise and was caught off-guard by how much time had passed.

"Ah! I'm sorry Bruce but I really need to get back there!" she said in a fluttered state and scampered back to the set.

But on the way, she paused in her tracks to turn and address Bruce one more time.

"Maybe we can meet up for dinner after this? To catch up?" she asked.

"Sure, I'd like that." Bruce grinned and nodded.

She beamed at him like a ray of sunshine before hurriedly returning to her duties. As he watched her leave, his grin dropped and his lips settled into a dismal state.

While it was true that he is a sponsor and involved in the show as much as everyone else, he felt so out of place standing here with all these people moving past him going about their work.

He dare not distract himself. He dare not look at his phone where he'd probably see another missed call from Dick, and maybe one from Barbara at the behest of Dick.

They were better off without him.

With hands in his pockets, he turned his scowl towards the window wall; towards the city that would always curse and shackle him.

He should be out there, not in here. What was he even doing here?

He could ask himself that question over and over but he already knew the answer.

Last month…

"Step on it! He's gaining on us!" the armed robber yelled at the driver in panic.

"Shut the fuck up! I'm going as fast as I can!"

The squeal of tires pierced the cold Tuesday night as the van tore through the narrow roads of Brubaker Avenue, clipping and scraping past the vehicles that were parked on the side. Their desperation was warranted, for hot on their tails was a sleek and powerful machine.

Black as midnight with ridged aerodynamic fins, flames spewing from the rocket exhaust at its rear, yellow headlights angled fiercely and engines roaring like beast from hell.

With the way the Batmobile relentlessly pursued them, it might as well have been.

Despite the frantic way the van had been driven, two armed robbers at the back flung the back doors open and fired at vehicle with assault rifles. It was a futile endeavor as the bullets merely ricocheted and sparked against the Batmobile's armor.

Sitting inside at the vehicle's driver seat, the lone Dark Knight of Gotham maintained a steady control over the chase. With how focused his angular white eyes and how taut his lips were, one would think that he was being a dog with a bone; hounding after his prey without mercy.

Usually that would be the case but this time, he actually had his attention divided: The majority of which keyed in on the pursuit while the rest listened to the caller's voice on speaker.

"Sponsorship?" Batman asked, without much care.

"The Board thinks it's a good idea." came Lucius Fox's voice over the phone. "The publicity alone could attract more investors."

Batman glowered with annoyance. The only reason he took this call was because Lucius insisted it was important and that all his previous attempts to get in touch with him went nowhere.

Bruce begrudgingly admitted to himself that yes, he had been avoiding his calls,...as well everyone else's, and hadn't been around at the Manor for weeks.

But even then, he felt this matter was hardly what he'd consider important.

"I don't have time for this." Batman rasped. "Tell the Board I'm not interested."

On the other end of the line, Lucius gave a tired sigh.

"I would. Except that the company's stocks are at an all time low and we're under pressure to deliver results. The board is already talking about cutting costs, especially with our charity sectors. We're talking lay-offs, Bruce. What do you think I should do?"

"You're the one in charge now, Lucius. You figure it out." he said dismissively.

Lucius frowned in frustration. Bruce was being difficult again, as he had been for the past four months. It wasn't like Lucius himself was comfortable with the role he had been given: engineering and technology was more his forte, not business. Bruce had only put him in charge because he was the closest person he could trust right now.

His son, Luke, had now taken his role as head of the Waynetech division and in honesty? Lucius felt that he was more qualified for the boardroom than him.

But Bruce had been keeping Luke busy, not particularly for any project in mind but just to keep him occupied from other certain things. Things that Lucius would like to keep him away from too.

However right now, Lucius really needed Bruce's cooperation.

"I'm only a Deputy CEO." Lucius tried to reason with him. "You know that I have as much sway over them as the next guy."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, deciding that he was done beating around the bush and just confront Bruce on the matter.

"And frankly speaking, you haven't been mindful of your public image as of late."

Batman's eyes narrowed and his grip of the steering wheel tightened hard. Lucius couldn't see his reaction but even if he could, it wouldn't deter him from saying his piece.

"I don't think I need to tell you this but if you're going continue to use company resources for your crusade then you need to balance your life as both Bruce Wayne and the Batman. Besides, one of the show's producers told me that you know her well. A Miss Nakamura. She said-"

Phoebe Nakamura. Batman remembered her. Another of his failures in his long list of failures.

"I know her. Yes." he interrupted and then growled. "But the answer is still no. I don't think I need to tell YOU this but I don't give a DAMN about my public image!"

Lucius remained quiet for a moment, his expression softening.

"Bruce,…"

He began in a somber tone.

"It's what Alfred would've wanted for you."

Hearing that name shot a jolt through Batman's being before he snarled and aggressively pushed engine throttle to maximum.

The Batmobile lurched forward with the sudden acceleration as flames bust from the rocket exhaust.

Seeing the vehicle closing in on them, the armed robbers yelled and cursed expletives in panic.

"Shit! Ohshit!ohshit!ohshit!"

They fired their guns some more, they yelled at each other but the inevitable soon came upon them.

With a CRASH!, the Batmobile plowed through the rear corner of the van with enough force to send the backside of the vehicle into the air!

One gunman fell through the back doors and tumbled over the asphalt while the rest screamed as they held on for dear life as the van rolled and tipped over to one side, sliding briefly on the road with sparks underneath.

After tearing through them, the Batmobile turned and braked, smoke accompanying the screech of tires as it skid to a halt.

The hunted criminals groaned and crawled out of the wreckage. Some of them writhed in pain, others too winded to run; not that they'd get very far. All they could do was watch in dread as the Batmobile's canopy slid open and the Batman jumped out to steadily approach them with his white eyes boring into them hatefully.

Woe be it to the ones who would encounter the Dark Knight in a foul mood.

"Hey, that's mine! GIVE IT BACK!"

The sound of a woman's voice brought Bruce out of his recollection and made him realize how much he had wandered off from the set. He was at the corner of the large re-purposed living room hall, by the entrance of a long corridor the led to one of the Penthouse's rooms. One side of the wall was brown marble while the other had an array of picture frames of stock artwork.

Curiosity got the better of him and he peeped around to see two women at the end of the corridor.

One of them was Korean with long straight black hair and a round face complimented with black frame glasses and a beauty spot above her lips. She wore a white shirt, black pants and although she was slightly stout in stature, it didn't detract from her overall attractiveness.

At the moment, she was being held from grabbing back a kitchen knife that was apparently taken from her; that was being examined by the other woman with a bored interest.

And on the subject of the other woman…

"What is that girl wearing!?" Bruce internally balked.

Or rather, what WASN'T she wearing?

The one casually holding the Korean at bay was a Japanese woman with tanned skin, green eyes and blonde hair that was cut short in a boyish style with small curls at the back of her neck and a long ahoge that hung over the top of her head. Some might've considered her looking much like a 'gyaru'.

As Bruce had observed, she exposed much of her skin: wearing a pair of denim hot pants, knee high brown boots, leather straps around her wrists, a choker around her neck, two blade sheaths strapped to her thigh and on one of her upper arms.

And finally, on her chest, was just a flame patterned string bikini top that accentuated the size of her breasts. Indeed, those large tits were an aspect of her's that was hard for Bruce to not notice. 95cm, he'd wager, G cup. Maybe even H.

"Heh, You call THIS a knife? I'm surprised you can even cut anything with junk like this." the blonde woman scoffed.

"As if your knife is any better!" the Korean fired back.

The scantily clad Japanese turned towards her with a victorious smile.

"Oh, it is." she purred.

She dragged her tongue over her lush plump lips and then patted at her sheath proudly.

"This baby is custom forged. Made of Shirogami #1 steel with a HRC rating of 60! Strong enough to slice through bone while keeping a razor sharp edge."

The bespectacled woman fumed in annoyance.

"If your brain was at least half the size of your boobs, then you'd know that numbers isn't everything, Mito!"

"Nani!?" Mito angrily stepped towards her.

But the Korean stood her ground. As matter a fact, her lips smirked in superiority as she lectured the other woman.

"First of all, high carbon steel like Shirogami has a tendency to rust unlike stainless steel. And secondly, a blade with a high HRC rating may mean it's hard but it also means it's brittle too."

Mito only glared at her, feeling the bite of her words and their hidden meanings.

"No matter how sharp it is, it'll eventually fail."

The woman boldly got in Mito's face and punctuated her next three words with scorn.

"Just…like…you!"

There was a sudden rush of movement as Mito's palm hit the wall behind the Korean who scooted back quickly until her back was against it. Mito loomed over her with a grin and murderous glint in her eye as she twirled the knife in an intimidating manner.

"If you think your knife is so superior, then why don't we test it right now?" she said dangerously.

"EEP!" the woman yelp in fear.

Bruce had seen enough. Images of victims being held at knife point flooded his mind as he automatically strode into the corridor and before he knew it, gripped the Japanese woman by her wrist.

Caught by surprise, Mito quickly turned toward him and her widened green eyes met his intense blue ones.

"Excuse me, but it's dangerous to point sharp objects at people." Bruce told her firmly.

"Omo*! Y-Yo-You're Bruce Wayne!" the Korean gasped, her cheeks suddenly reddening in excitement.

Mito remained rooted on the spot for a few seconds before she regained her composure and yanked her arm away.

"I wasn't going to do anything! What's it to you anyway, old man!?"

"Old man?" Bruce was internally taken aback.

Now that he paid attention, he figured that she spoke with a slight Kansai dialect which gave her voice a husky and oddly appealing quality.

The bespectacled woman got in between them, coming to Bruce's defense while chiding her counterpart.

"Don't talk him like that! That's Bruce Wayne! Don't you know that he's the show's sponsor!?"

"Sponsor?" Mito wondered, looking over Bruce again.

Then a sly smile graced her features as she bent forward slightly with her wrists to her hips, causing her breasts to bounce and sway.

"So you're the guy handing out the prize money, huh?" she noted.

Straightening up, Mito nonchalantly switched her grip over the knife to the spine of the blade and held out the handle towards the other woman.

"Here, you can have this back." she said before dropping it.

"Aaah!"

The Korean woman cried out in alarm but luckily reacted fast enough by falling on her knees to grab the handle before the blade hit the floor.

"And you." Mito addressed Bruce fiercely with a point of her finger. "You better start writing me my check, cause I'm gonna blow this competition outta the water!"

With that, she marched off and left Bruce to linger his sight on her as she left.

"Grrr! Who does she think she is!?"

Realizing that he wasn't being mindful of the other woman, Bruce quickly turned his attention towards her.

"Are you alright?" he offered his hand.

The woman immediately sprang up with a wide smile and her face flushed red. Words poured out of her mouth with nervous infatuation as she closed in on Bruce, causing him to take a step back.

"NE! I'm totally alright! I mean, I'm fine n-now that you're here, my dashing prince. A-AAH! I-I-I mean M-mister Wayne! Sorry, it's just that I always wanted to meet you."

"Oh~! the way he came to my rescue…" she internally swooned. "It's just like the Manhwas I read."

Holding the kitchen knife at her hips, she thrust her hand out to him for a shake.

"By the way, my name is Mirae Song. You can call me Mirae…or just Mi, or call me whatever you want."

If Bruce was being honest, he found Mirae to be quite pretty but she was coming on a little too strong at the moment.

"Um, charmed I'm sure." he shook her hand. "Who was that bothering you just now?"

"Oh." Mirae's voice turned sour like she had eaten a bug.

With a scowl, she looked over to where the Blonde Japanese had left.

"That was Ikumi Mito, the so-called Meat Master of Japan."

"It looked like things were about get ugly back there." said Bruce.

"Pfft! Don't mind that. She's just mad that she can't rely on her A5 beef like she used to. For as long as I've known her, Mito has always been that way. The only thing about her that's changed is her bigger cup size."

Mirae said so with disgust but soon, her demeanor shifted back to being flirty.

"But never mind her, I want to talk more about you."

"Me?"

"Uh-huh. I've read every magazine article about you. Are you…single right now? I-I mean, they say that you're this elusive bachelor."

"Last I checked." Bruce gave a wry smile.

Blushing like a love-sick teenager, she played with a strand of her hair as she looked up at him with hinting eyes.

"Y'know Mister Wayne, a man of your stature should really consider settling down with a talented woman. That is, well, it must get pretty lonely in that big Mansion of yours. Don't you have someone to take care of you?"

Splatters of shadows bedaubed over the walls and floors, rendering his what he had considered his haven into a place of dread.

Before him was an elderly gentleman tied to a chair and behind said chair was a tall hulking man, a literal mountain of muscles wearing cargo pants, combat boots, back tank top and a back and white luchador mask with red lenses that gleamed in the dark.

His heart hammered loudly against his ears. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. No matter how much he forced himself to rush towards them, they still felt far away.

"Once, I broke the Bat." Bane's voice rumbled low and dangerously.

The villain then put his huge hands lightly over the gentleman's head.

"Tonight, I break the Man."

KKKKKRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKK!

"Mister Wayne?"

"Hm?" Bruce blinked and gazed over towards Mirae to was looking at him weirdly.

"Are you okay? You spaced out for a minute there." she said.

Spaced out? He that notion absurd. He never spaces out; in fact, he'd say he was as focused as ever.

"I…It's nothing." he mumbled and averted his eyes.

"Oh." Mirae couldn't be sure what that was all about but decided to take his word for it. "So anyway, like I was saying-"

"Mirae!"

A familiar voiced sounded off from the other end of the corridor and both Bruce and Mirae turned to see Phoebe hurriedly approaching them; clipboard in hand, her heels rapidly clacking on the floor and an agitated expression on her face.

"What are you doing!? We're about to start shooting your Shokugeki with Ikumi now!" she hissed with urgency.

"Aishh!*" Mirae cursed to herself with widened eyes.

Realizing that she needed to hurry, the Korean woman began to walk away with frantic steps as she faced Bruce with an apologetic look.

"I…I-I got go now, Mister Wayne. Why don't we talk about this later? You'll cheer for me, won't you?" she asked hopefully.

Bruce grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

"Sure thing."

That response certainly made her feel elated and she left with an extra spring in her steps.

Phoebe stood beside Bruce giggling with amusement.

"I see you met one of our contestants."

"She seems nice." Bruce simply said.

Hugging her clipboard to her chest, Phoebe turned to him with a wide smile.

"Well, why don't we sit and watch their bout together?"

Ordinary, Bruce would turn her down but he was committed to see this through. Just tonight to satisfy the board and then he can turn his attention to more important matters.

Besides, for some reason he couldn't help but feel curious about the whole Shokugeki thing, particularly with Mirae's opponent.

"Okay, lead the way."

TBC

AN: "Omo" is basically the Korean expression for "OMG" while "Aishh!" is another expression for "Damn it!".