-TADOKORO MEGUMI-
November 11
"Megumi! Welcome home, baby!" Megumi's mother squealed as she approached the family's pickup truck, the sun rising over them. The sweet and salty smell of the sea filled Megumi's lungs as she breathed in the crisp air that only living by the water could bring. The train ride to Tōhoku had been slow and scenic, and the closer she got to the most familiar areas from her childhood, the safer she felt.
"Hi, Mama! I'm happy to be home, too! I missed you! I've missed everyone!" She beamed, tears spontaneously rolling from her eyes. Her mother pinched her cold, smiling cheeks and surveyed her daughter.
"Aw, honey! We missed you, too! But why are you crying?"
Megumi wiped her nose, staring at her mother's beautiful face for the first time in ages. The warm and rugged woman looked worn out, but squeezing her tightly felt like home. "It just…feels good to be back," she said. She didn't tell her mom why she had come home or what'd happened at school or in Paris. She just wanted to be with those who loved her unconditionally, without reservation or question.
"Oh? Well, I reckon that's a good reason to cry. It's always a joy to have you home." She wrapped her scarf around her daughter's already-bundled neck and put her luggage in the truck bed.
They drove in comfortable silence for the first half of the ride back to the Ryokan. It was quiet on the seaside now that all the early morning fishing and selling had been done. She could not wait to see her favorite fishmongers, the hardworking, easygoing men who helped raise her into the fishmonger she was today, but the reunions would have to wait. Right now, she was too exhausted to move, think, or speak and still had no appetite.
Her mother eyed her. "Are you hungry, baby girl? You look like you're not getting enough to eat up at that fancy cooking school." Only her mother could tell when something was wrong. Megumi glanced at her mom before returning her gaze to the sea shoreline. Winter was here; she could tell by the scant amounts of fishing boats docked at the pier.
"Not really, but what did you make?"
"Nothing. But your grandfather made a tasty seafood stew last night that should be perfectly marinated by now. He even added the seasonal crabs and monkfish this time. I reckon those are your favorites," she winked. Megumi's mouth watered.
"Mmm! I love Ojiisan's seafood stew! He added monkfish, too?"
"He knew you would, so he got ta' cookin' it as soon as he heard you were comin' home. He said only the best for his favorite granddaughter."
"I'm his only granddaughter!" They both laughed.
"You know how he is about you." Her mother slowed her laughter as they pulled to the only traffic light in town. "So…Megumi."
"Hm?"
"I didn't wanna tell you this while you were in Tokyo, but since you're back home, I suppose you should know. I reckon you'll figure it out soon enough even if I don't."
Megumi's stomach turned. "Is Ojiisan alright? Are you?"
"Yes, yes! We're both fine, sweetie. And so is your grandmother. It's about the Ryokan."
"…What about it?"
The light turned green, and she pressed on the gas. "We're struggling to make ends meet."
"What do you mean?"
"It's been tough getting business since tsunami season began. A bad one in July and an even worse one in August flooded half the town. Even with the business your being on the Elite Ten brings, we're barely staying afloat. People are scared of the water and the weather."
"What about the prize money I won in May at the national baking competition? That's why I gave it all to you."
"We know, honey, but we didn't use it for that. We just couldn't. That's your hard-earned money."
"That's nonsense! What's mine is yours. How much do we need? I can enter more cooking competitions and-"
Her mother shook her head, teary-eyed. "Megumi, I say, your generous spirit is your true beauty, but no, my dear."
Her face was red. Her eyes were burning. When it rained, it poured, didn't it? "So, what did you do with my prize money check?"
"Your grandparents and I went to the bank and put it in a certificate of deposit for you until your twenty-first birthday. Those wealthy prep school kids you go to school with won't be the only ones with a trust fund!"
"What good is a trust fund if the family business isn't doing well, Mama? It's still my dream to buy it one day."
"Megumi, let me finish." Megumi quieted. "You're about to be nineteen, so you need to know this. We've maxed out our credit cards to fulfill inventory requirements and burned through our savings just to keep the lights on and pay the staff. We put up the house as collateral for a second mortgage to try to buy ourselves some time, hoping the appraisal would be enough to make up the difference. But we didn't get approved. Something about our debt-to-profit ratio and being in a flood zone makes it more of a liability, or something or the other. Y'know finances ain't my thing. Anyway, we—your grandparents and I—don't think we'll make it past this quarter."
Megumi's heart dropped. The quarter was ending in two weeks, right before the winter holidays. Her head was spinning from hunger and anger. "What're ya' saying, Mama? Are we gonna have to close down Shōkeien for good?" Her voice trembled at the thought, threatening to break.
"Unless the Good Lord works out a miracle, baby? Yep. That's exactly what I'm sayin'," she said, parking the truck in front of the bed and breakfast the Tadokoros had owned and operated for four generations.
"So, what do we do?" Megumi whimpered, sniffling into her coat's arm.
"All we can do, baby, is pray."
-8-
Megumi walked around her childhood bedroom and was immediately transported to a simpler time. Not a single thing had changed. Her stuffed animals were perfectly perched on her bed; her cooking idols' posters were still perfectly tacked on the wall; her twin bed was still perfectly made with the same pink pony sheets from when she was a little girl. Even her first monkfish plush was perfectly perched on her bedroom desk. She'd expected her mother to redecorate by now but was relieved to return to a safe and familiar place.
"Mama…" she said, holding the frame of her small but mighty family portrait. There was all this pressure on her to keep the family business open, and Megumi had no clue. The town was flooding while she was running around preparing for the Fall Selection, and she did nothing to help her community. That was months ago, but she still saw the damage as they drove through town—boarded-up shop windows, algae strewn in from the sea, battered street signs from salt weathering, and rooftops missing shingles. She wished she could talk to Sōma about this; he'd know what to say and do. Sōma would understand what she was going through. Megumi felt a wave of guilt for stirring up petty drama in her love life when her family drowned in debt. Now, she didn't even have a friend to discuss it with. She went to the altar in her room and prayed for grace, if not a miracle, then crashed onto her childhood bed.
Existing was exhausting, and she wished her life was just a dream in an alternate universe, not the real mess she'd made. It had been a traumatizing and depressing few months, and she was sure she only survived it because she'd been away from Tōtsuki for a month, crashing at Hojo Miyoko's family home and taking all her classes online. As for her Elite Ten work? Well, she could be irresponsible, too.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and sighed. Hojo-san had texted her. But she really didn't want to text her back.
.
.
.
"Honestly, Megumi! You can be very sheepish, but even this is too much for me," Miyoko said, moving around the Hojoro kitchen like a tyrant. "If Yukihira Sōma can keep treating you like an afterthought, why are you still waiting to be his dessert?" Megumi gave her a look.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Miyoko slammed the wok she was using down on the open flame. "It means, get over him already! He's not a good friend to you."
"That's not true," Megumi pouted. She sat at the prep table molding onigiri for their evening jaunt in the park.
"Oh, yes, it is. You've been a mess since you lost your Shokugeki to that royal pain of a rich girl. And remember how sick you were the day they made it official on campus?" Megumi flashed back to that Monday after Valentine's Day. The spectacle they made parading their relationship down the main lawn on the most crucial day for relationships at Tōtsuki. "All you did was pout and mope for the rest of the school year." She placed a plate of steaming fried rice on the counter.
"Thank you. Only because Sōma and I couldn't spend as much time together." She grabbed her chopsticks.
"Okay, and what about when he came back from abroad after losing the B.L.U.E. to the asshole aristocrat? They weren't together then. Why didn't you tell him you had feelings for him then?" Hojo's challenge was making Megumi uncomfortable. She didn't like being confronted about Sōma like this, maybe, at all.
"Things had changed," she said, looking away.
"Megumi, baby. You're going to have to lie better than that. You chickened out. Why?"
"I said things changed. He came back someone new, and we had so much to catch up on. Then he got busy with his First Seat duties and spending time with-"
"With that demonic diamond diva," she said, plating her food.
Megumi put her utensils down. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"You refuse to call Nakiri-san by her name."
Miyoko stopped. "So?"
"Why? That's disrespectful, Miyoko-san. She's Tōtsuki's director-"
"You've got to be kidding me," Miyoko scoffed.
"What-"
"That bitch sabotages your ranking on the Ten, breaks up your best friendship with the boy you've been in love with since we were first years, and practically runs you out of Paris to lick your wounds, running to me, and you have a problem with me not using formal honorifics when addressing her?! Tadokoro Megumi, you are unbelievable!"
Hojo's words stung because Megumi knew she was mocking her. But she was right. "You don't have to yell," she sniffled. "Or be so mean. Love is complicated, okay? I can't help how I feel! I thought you were my friend." She turned away. "And I did not come running to you."
"Oh?" Megumi said nothing. It was true; she asked to stay at the last minute but did not come running. "So, why didn't you ask Yuki or Ryoko to stay with them?" She couldn't answer that. She didn't know how to; all she knew, as she ran out of the Inui-Shinomiya reception and pushed up her flight back to Tokyo, was that Hojo was the only person that came to mind.
Miyoko's face underwent many emotional iterations before slumping into an apologetic frown. "I apologize, and I am your friend, Megumi. It's just that sometimes friends have to give it to be brutally honest. I thought you were strong enough to handle a real friend who sees you and wants the best for you."
"You don't have to be brutal, to be honest, Hojo-san," her voice was a whisper. "That sounds a bit victim-blamey to me."
"Huh? I just told you I want what's best for you. How is that blaming you?"
"But you've been mocking what I thought was the best for me for years now."
"Maybe there's a reason for that. Have you ever thought of that?" Hojo raised her voice, then caught herself and sighed. She pulled up a seat beside Megumi, but Megumi scooted over, refusing to look at her. "Look, Megumi. What did I tell you when you asked to stay with me? If you need anything, I got you." Hojo said, brushing their pinkies on the counter before their eyes met briefly. Her energy threw Megumi off.
"Uh, yeah. I know, Hojo-san," she stuttered, facing the cooling rice to avoid the death stare penetrating her temple. Hojo scooted closer until their barstools and thighs touched.
"I'm sorry I offended you. I know how much you love Sōma. It's just hard for me to see a good friend not treated well because you deserve so much more, but that's not your fault. Nothing you've gone through this past month is your fault, and I'm sorry for making it sound like it was."
"Well… Maybe some of it is," Megumi whispered. "I probably shouldn't have kissed Ryō," she blushed, threatening to turn the other way again, but Miyoko cupped Megumi's cheek in her right hand before she could.
"Hey, none of us can help how we feel, remember? But, we all have to be honest about it at some point," Miyoko said, her voice low and vulnerable, before placing her other hand on Megumi's thigh.
On returning to Miyoko's house, Megumi booked a train ticket home, utterly confused by her friend's advances.
.
.
.
That was two nights ago, and she still hadn't spoken to Miyoko more than the goodbye letter she left behind when she was supposed to be "dropping some stuff off atKyokusei." She must've overstayed her welcome; why else would Hojo press her like that?
And then, there was that brief kiss they shared in the park…
What was that about? Did Hojo-san want to talk about it? Megumi didn't want to open her text to find out; her read receipts were on. A knock on her bedroom door jolted her from her stupor.
"Megumi-chan!" Her grandfather's warm, aged voice called from behind the door. "Your mother has some good news to share! Come on down as soon as you're rested, my butterfly." She smiled to herself. It was her heart's first genuine smile all week. She'd missed that old man.
"Coming, Ojiisan!"
-8-
Her mother informed her they'd been booked out for the weekend by a very important guest who requested confidentiality. A popular hospitality magazine was running a new 'Food and Comfort' series and wanted to do a feature on Shōkeien Ryokanto for their first release. Her mother wasn't told which one.
"The whole weekend? How many guests?"
"Their assistant said just two guests, but they wanted to be the only guests on the premises."
"Huh," Megumi furrowed her eyebrows. "That's peculiar. And they didn't tell you where they're coming from?"
"Nothing more than they would arrive by six this evening," her mother replied.
"Who cares if it's odd, strange, or peculiar! It's money! And lots of it!" Her grandmother cackled. Megumi smiled at the cheerful small woman with a mouth that took up the entire lower half of her face when she spoke. "It's the breakthrough we've been waiting for. Praise the ancestors!"
"You're both right; it's oddly a well-timed miracle." Megumi's mother said, reading through the booking invoice. "They offered to pay a premium for it being so last-minute."
"A premium?" Megumi's grandfather asked after a long sip of barley tea. He'd been quietly listening in his rocking chair in the corner of the office.
"Yep, Papa. They paid triple the rate for each room all weekend. But they're only staying for a night."
"Triple?!" The other three Tadokoros shouted. Megumi quickly did the math. She gasped, "That's nearly fifty million yen!"
"So, booking out every room and facility for three days at three times the weekend room rate is more than enough to keep us in the black for the next two years," her grandfather said. Megumi yelped.
"Mmhmm. And recoup our credit cards and savings. We can even give out raises." Her mother announced. Cheers and applause erupted from the kitchen and hallways.
"Oi!" Megumi's grandfather barked to the eavesdroppers. "Y'all better get back to work! The check hasn't cleared yet! Make this place spic and span, and ready for royalty! They'll be here before the sunset!" He stood up, waving his cane, ordering the lollygagging staff around. But the loyal employees of the Shōkeien Ryokanto only laughed and continued their duties.
"Has the check cleared?" Her grandmother asked on the low. Megumi's mother looked at hers and slowly nodded.
"I received the wired payment confirmation email before I even noticed the booking request."
"Well, bless our lucky stars. I don't know who these rich folks are, but I like 'em already!" Her grandmother rejoiced.
Meanwhile, Megumi sat on her cushion, stunned. God had answered their prayers.
-8-
The rest of the day blurred into a frenzy of whole-staff preparation.
"I've just received word," Megumi's grandmother said, walking into the bed and breakfast's kitchen. Megumi and her mother were preparing a welcome charcuterie board and crudités platter of pickled vegetables from the garden. "They're two hours away."
"Got it, thanks, Momma."
"I wonder who it is. D'you reckon it's someone famous?" The elder woman simpered. "I hope it's a cute young idol and his more handsome father."
"Why? You're old and married, Momma?" Megumi's mother laughed.
"So what? An old lady still has clear eyes for window shopping!"
"Momma!" The three generations of women laughed as they worked.
This was precisely what Megumi needed and why she came home. If only she'd come here from the start, maybe her broken heart would've been fully mended by now. As she cooked and cleaned alongside her family and the staff that watched her grow from the womb, a deep sense of pride for her family's sole source of income settled in her bones. The Shōkeien Ryokanto was her home because it was her family's legacy. She was committed to saving it. So, if that meant ensuring that their mystery guests had the most hospitable experience ever, she'd personally see to that.
"Ma'am. A luxury vehicle has just pulled up," the hostess walked in to announce. The middle-aged woman had been like an aunt to Megumi, taking care of her as a child when her mother was working, but her health was visibly declining.
"Oh my! They're early!" Megumi's mother squeaked, looking at the time. "Okay, thank you, Fuyumi-sama." She whistled and clapped to round up the staff. "Okay, y'all! They're here, so look alive! Everyone to your stations! I'll go out to greet them." Her mother looked flustered (which wasn't like her, getting nervous about guests) but happy for the business. Megumi placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay, Okaasan. I'll get it," Megumi said, beaming. She was already carrying a drink tray of hot lemon tea and lemonade. She walked to the entrance and stood, bowing as the bellhop opened the door. This was it. It was time to make the best first and lasting impression on the mystery guests who saved her family from financial ruin. Strangely, she was also suddenly nervous. Megumi fleetingly wondered why.
The door happily creaked open. "Welcome, esteemed guests, to Shōkeien Ryokanto! Would you like some homemade…" Then she looked up. Immediately, her throat dried, and her heart raced."…lemonade?" It was a struggle to speak. Her eyes bulged as they profiled the unexpected guests; they had to be deceiving her.
Because for the life of her, Tadokoro Megumi could not understand why Yukihira Sōma and Nakiri Erina were standing at the entrance of her family's bed and breakfast.
a/n: it's been a long time; i shouldn't have left you without a long chapter to get through. but in good news, the hiatus was totally worth it academically and creatively. so here's me sharing a little treat to celebrate.
so, the hiatus is officially over, and i hope it was worth the wait. we're back with megumi, our tragic hero, looking at the mess we've made and entering a whole new world of more stress. this chapter is why i needed the hiatus. it refused to come for the past five months, or maybe i was too overwhelmed about writing it (because a lot has happened to her). but it's finally "done," and it turned out far better than i originally thought it would, because (as i've mentioned in previously) writing megumi is a labor of love, as she plays such a delicate and important role in this story. but i guess you just gotta trust yourself through the writing process. but the kicker is, you've gotta write for there even to be a process to trust. so, i hope you enjoyed reading a brand new chapter of CF, and would love to know what you think!
p.s.: pls leave a review, follow, favorite, and share with someone you think would enjoy reading it, too!
-you're welcome!-
8.20withlove
-i do not own the rights to Shokugeki no Sōma, wah wah wah
\_(ツ)/