You'd think rewriting things that someone's already written wouldn't take too long, but this is almost 20 pages of writing. I hope you enjoy, nonetheless!

Takumi let out a slow breath as time was called. He'd finished working with half an hour to spare, but there were still some students still frantically sprinkling garnishes or caramelizing something or another with a blowtorch up until the last second. He'd briefly been worried if he should have kept working, but Ikumi had wrapped up a few minutes before him and Akira had managed to time his own work such that he rang the bell at his station a clean ten minutes after Takumi signaled himself. It seemed the only people working past then had either been trying to make up for a particularly egregious mistake early during the cooking period or had made something up on the fly.

Maybe they're trying to draw the Gold Faction's eye, Takumi mused even as he felt his nose wrinkle at a particularly unpleasant burnt smell. It was a poorly kept secret that the Factions had their eyes out for possible future candidates, after all.

"Th–thus concludes the cooking round of the preliminaries! We will now move onto the j–judging round. I'm Sasaki Yua, first-year vice president of Koume High, and I'll be your emcee today." The girl speaking looked like she was desperately trying to get herself to leave her pigtails alone rather than anxiously tugging on one of them. "Before we begin, I'd like to introduce today's panel of judges—"

"Oho, no worries, Sasaki-chan, I'm sure we can cover all of that whenever it becomes relevant," one of the judges, a kind-looking older man with thinning hair, said. "You just focus on introducing these students so we may get started trying their dishes. I wouldn't want to do them the dishonor of eating their food after it's gone cold!"

"O–of course, Kita-san! Then, let's go over how this round of the preliminaries will go. There are five judges. Each judge can give out up to twenty points for a grand total of one hundred points. The top eight scorers of each block—meaning the t–top sixteen students overall— will then be competing in the first round of Tōtsuki's Autumn Election next week! Now, let's begin without any more delay!"

The first student, a cocky looking boy with a stubborn set of cowlicks, approached the judges with a tray of steaming plates. All of them started eating without even waiting for him to introduce his dish, and the jovial judge who spoke with Yua enthusiastically rattled off five different influences and the ways that the student adapted his recipe to suit his audience. The entire ramble ended with, "Exactly what one would expect from a Tōtsuki student!"

"This is going to go badly, isn't it?" Takumi muttered to Ikumi.

She snickered. "They never expect it, either, no matter how many times it happens to them," she whispered back. "It's kind of a riot."

And, indeed, the boy looked utterly shell-shocked when the judges awarded him a collective thirty-three points.

Yua, for all of her nervousness, didn't seem anywhere near surprised. She'd probably been warned of how strictly the judges would score competing students. "And we start off strong with thirty-three points!" she declared.

"Strong?" the boy shouted up at her. "You'd call thirty-three out of a hundred a strong showing?!"

"Hm? O–oh, of course," she said to him. "These judges flew from around the world to try these thirty dishes specifically. W–why shouldn't they maintain their high standards?"

Student after student presented their dishes, and almost unilaterally were disappointed by their scores. Being in the chosen top ten percent of first years must have inflated their egos; one boy looked utterly devastated to only receive six points for his seemingly perfect Thai red curry.

Takumi watched as each of the judges took turns tearing his classmates to shreds. Only one spoke to each student, despite all of them weighing in for the final score, as if they weren't worth more attention than that. In many cases, the judges would take a single bite of the dish before passing judgment, as if they didn't need any more than that to understand the meal completely.

What a mockery of cooking. He was almost ashamed of how low they cast the judges' expectations.

As he thought that, he felt his nose twitch involuntarily. Then, an overwhelming smell took over the hall. He frantically looked around to see the source of it before realizing who exactly was stepping up to the judges next.

Sadatsuka Nao made no attempt to hide either the true nature of her dish or the sadistically delighted curl of her mouth, snickering as the judges recoiled from her offered bowls.

"What is this stench?!" Orie hissed, staring at the food in front of her with disgust.

"Please enjoy my special Jet-Black Curry Laksa," Nao hissed through her teeth, still wracked with silent laughter as the judges stared at her, horrified. "It's sure to absolutely bewitch you."

"A–ah— j–judges, p–please—" Yua cut herself off as she staggered away from the microphone, but her podium was too small for her to flee from the smell. "Oh, that smells absolutely wretched—"

The seemingly friendly judge who started the round of criticisms off, Kita Osaji, looked ready to spit fire. "This smell… I recognize it."

"I'm sure you do, but nothing like this," Nao said. "It's kusaya, a specific blend I concocted with mahi-mahi and flying fish to accentuate the true awful nature of the smell. I then boiled the kusaya and made sure to use every last drop in my laksa."

"Boiled kusaya?! It barely smells palatable grilled!" Kita snapped. "I refuse to eat this! Zero points, and get this out of my sight!"

It looked like he was about to dive into a long-winded rant against Nao's creation when Orie hesitantly picked up her chopsticks. "Orie-sama, surely you aren't—"

"We're judges, are we not?" Orie said, unable to completely hide her disgust as she stared at slimy dark noodles. "J–just one bite, and then we can be rid of this."

"Oh, it's over," Ikumi muttered. "She's going to get the highest score, now."

If Takumi hadn't worked with Nao before, he would be absolutely dumbfounded. Even with that caveat, it was hard to imagine someone whose food inspired such instinctual disgust having made anything besides a horrible mistake in the kitchen. Her food enticed in the same way that your mouth sometimes watered upon smelling rotting meat. It was a horrifying chorus from the void to at least just try a bite before utterly eschewing it.

He's still not surprised when Orie swallowed her first bite and immediately began devouring the whole plate.

"Orie-sama!" Kita gasped.

"It's delicious," she choked out. "It–it smells absolutely foul, but it's—" she forewent whatever she was about to say to shove more noodles in her mouth, all composure completely lost.

A more sour-faced judge had tasted the laksa for himself after Orie's initial response, and he too fell victim to the flavors Nao had distilled. It was as if all manners were enchanted out of them, as though Nao's food ensorcelled their palates and forced them into submission, as if the laksa itself was a potent potion that forced its consumers under Nao's brand of black magic.

"No wonder everyone calls her the Boiling Witch," Ikumi said, raising an unconcerned eyebrow at their reactions.

"She seems pleased," Takumi said.

"This is the future of gourmet cooking!" Nao declared, sinisterly hunched in on herself. "False airs, false beauty, false innovation… these are nothing. The secret to cooking lies in repulsiveness, above all else."

"It's what they're looking for." Takumi glanced behind him to see that Akira had approached him. He looked like he was struggling not to protect his delicate nose from the stench of Nao's dish. "Tōtsuki isn't a school that teaches its students to make perfect cookie-cutter dishes. Like it or not, Sadatsuka-san's sensibilities are the exact kind of envelope-pushing that these judges expected when they were invited here."

"The scores are in! Sadatsuka Nao takes the lead with 84 points!" Yua didn't have the natural showmanship of the other Koume students Takumi had met, but she shared their tendencies for the dramatic as she flicked a hand at the scoreboard marquee. "Who'll be next to challenge her?"

"I believe that's me."

Takumi had never heard Hisako's voice so clearly before. In most of his interactions with her, she'd been more than happy to fade in the background, content in being the afterimage of the girl she served so faithfully. Here, without the shining star of Nakiri Erina to blind everyone to her, she stepped forward with squared shoulders and a regal bearing, her dish hidden under a cloche.

"You," Nao hissed. "I cannot wait to see how wretched the curse I've cast upon the judges truly is. My flavors still linger on their tongues. You cannot overcome them with any of your tricks—"

"Oh, be quiet," Hisako said before walking past her. "Our quarrel was supposedly settled years ago. Leave me alone— and Erina-sama, of course."

Nao jeered at her back.

"What's that about?" Takumi asked.

"Middle school-level Shokugeki," Ikumi said idly, trying not to look too eager to see what Hisako made. "We weren't allowed to put our attendance at the school up as collateral, but almost anything else went. Most of the time, kids use it as practice for the real thing."

Takumi bit back his instinctual laugh at her implication that they weren't kids anymore. If anything, he felt more like a kid than ever, countless futures and fates rolling out before him as long as he was prescient enough to grab hold of the one he wanted most. It was exhilarating as much as it was overwhelming, at times.

The judges' initial reactions to Hisako's offering, a curry soup, was lackluster at best. They commented vaguely on how loose her roux was and how subtle it smelled. Kita's throat bobbed, though Takumi suspected he was still stuck in the aftertaste of Nao's laksa rather than anticipating Hisako's dish, as Nao herself threatened.

"Sucks for Sadatsuka," Ikumi commented. "Arato-san's probably the worst person to follow her in this whole room."

"How so?"

As if on cue, the quiet, sullen judge Andō burst out of his seat, crying out at a volume Takumi didn't expect from the man. It was as if he swelled to twice or three times his size, his suit straining to contain his newfound wellspring of strength.

"A–Andō-san! What's gotten into you?!" Kita asked.

"This flavor!" the man boomed, his voice as loud as if he was back in his prime. "It's shimotsu-to! You can tell from the aroma alone: tōki, senkyū, jiō, shakuyaku! A selection of ingredients designed to reinvigorate and revitalize!"

"This particular soup also includes ukon, daiuikyō, and uikyō," Hisako said. Her calm was betrayed only by a slight tilt at the corner of her mouth. "I stewed this original medicinal spice mix for around an hour to fully draw out their healing properties, and then I added the mutton and vegetables and boiled until they were ready. I finished the dish off with Shaoxing wine and coriander to highlight that aroma you mentioned at first. My Mutton Shimotsu-to Curry isn't meant to be indulgent or lavish; it's meant to be delicious and restorative."

"Ukon, or turmeric; daiuikyō, star anise; uikyō, fennel; these are both medicinal herbs as well as spices essential to make curry," Kita mused aloud, still chewing on a piece of mutton.

"A well-balanced curry that draws on generations of knowledge, passed down from parent to child… this is a dish meant to cleanse and energize the consumer," Andō pronounced.

"I can feel my energy coming back with every bite," Orie said, closing her eyes. "It's almost like after eating this, I can do anything…"

"It's a well thought-out dish crafted to hit every given mark one could hope for," Kita said, barely giving himself enough space to speak between bites. "The depths of it far exceed the previous dish… rather, all dishes we tried before it. This is a dish that can be made by one person only, perfected past the point of impact. This is the creation of a budding master."

"No," Nao whispered, staring wide-eyed at the dazed judges. "How… that curry couldn't have been good enough to restore them from my curse so quickly…"

"Oh? Try some for yourself, then," Hisako bit out, glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. "This curry is the culmination of everything I learned at my grandmother's knee— everything I learned specifically to serve Erina-sama, from the moment I chose her as she has chosen me."

Nao seemed to struggle with this as she snatched a bowl of Hisako's food and took a bite, already grimacing as though ready to reject it for the smallest mistake. And yet, the eyes of everyone in the arena watched as Nao took a second bite, then a third, then rapidly ate the rest of it, her eyes widening as she went. She seemed to transform before their eyes from the cackling witch she tried to be back into a rather ordinary girl. When the bowl was empty, her gaze settled on Hisako's form, arms crossed and back straight, standing firm against the expectations that pushed against her.

"If Erina-sama is my empress, then I am the doctor appointed to see to her health," Hisako declared, staring right back at Nao. "I cook with a given purpose, and I strive to be the best I can under that constraint. I don't abide selfish chefs, and those who navel-gaze aren't worthy of my or Erina-sama's regard.

"Step back. You're nothing more than an eyesore."

"The judges have spoken! Arato Hisako now s–stands first in Block B with 92 points!" Yua called out.

"I didn't think she'd show her hand so fully when we're not even at the Election, yet," Akira commented.

"I'm sure she couldn't resist after learning it was curry," Ikumi muttered back, rolling her eyes as another student attempted to follow up Hisako's powerful performance with a rather lackluster showing. "Arato-san might act like she's above all of the petty squabbles, but she's as competitive as the rest of us are. Moreso, even; she could have easily fought for a mentor of her own but she insists on relying on whatever is available to her instead. Stubborn asshole."

"That's rich, coming from you," Takumi said.

Shun had avoided coming over to them, most likely to focus on presenting his dish. That time came now. The boy ignored the students stifling tears at their low scores as he walked to the front with his own dishes in hand. He relied on a scent bomb the same way Nao did, but rather than the stench her dish boasted, Shun's dish gave off an enticingly acrid aroma that made you want to lean into it as much as it made you want to recoil with how it filled your nose. The result was a confusing, mouthwatering sensation that only tempted you to try whatever Shun made.

"My special smoked curry," he said, tilting his head. "Enjoy."

"Bacon, potatoes, eggs, all smoked," Kita muttered. "I'd be afraid that the flavor of the smoke overwhelms the taste of the curry. Indeed, it's all I can smell."

Shun cocked his head to the side. "I hope it doesn't," he said. "That would ruin the dish."

Kita snorted, but something about Shun apparently commanded enough respect to allow his snark. The judges went to taste the dish.

Immediately, they all flushed, their eyelids drooping heavily. "It is overwhelming," another judge said in a daze, "but not in the way we expected. It's as if every flavor has been magnified by the smoke. It's like looking through a curtain of smoke directly into a raging wildfire."

"Not a wildfire," Andou disagreed. "This is far too controlled for that. You've coarse-ground your spices to ensure their flavor isn't lost, but there's a sweetness in the smoke. Wood chips from a fruit tree, perhaps?"

"Apple," Shun said shortly.

"Of course, apple!" The final judge nodded firmly. "It's not a wildfire, but perhaps a bonfire in an orchard, celebrating harvest. But all of these toppings, all of these spices… careful selection of wood chips isn't enough to unify them like this."

Orie took another taste. "Everything has been smoked with the spices as well, but that's not all," she says slowly. "There's a mild flavor that everything here shares. Is it… is it the salt?"

"Not just salt," Shun revealed. "I've experimented with smoking salt before. I specifically used moshio salt in every part of this recipe."

"I see…" Orie took her last bite, finishing the plate. "Moshio salt is mild enough that it doesn't impact the flavor, but it's still able to hold the whole dish together. But— there's still something else—"

"It's tea," Andou said suddenly, a clarity in his gaze as he stared at Shun. "Green tea?"

"The eggs!" Kita burst out. "The eggs weren't smoked like the bacon and the potatoes. They've been smoked with tea and spices."

Shun angled his head. "Fresh tea leaves," he revealed. "Most would dry them out first, but concentrating the tea flavor would defeat the purpose for this dish."

"A whole cornucopia of smoked goods, none of which overwhelm each other even though the dish overall was designed to overwhelm everyone else in this arena…" Kita chuckled. "It's no wonder they call you the Prince of Smoke, is it?"

Shun bowed, walking away from the judges' table with a respectable 90 points.

"You've been holding out on us, Ibusaki!" Ikumi said, leaning over to punch him in the shoulder.

"Ow," Shun deadpanned.

"Oh, don't be a baby."

"90 points exactly," Takumi muttered to Shun, quiet enough that Ikumi and Akira couldn't hear. "Just enough to ensure you get into the first round?"

Finally, Shun's nonchalant mask cracked, and he gave Takumi a small smile. "Now, you can't expect me to have played all of my cards so soon?" he whispered back.

Of course. Why would anyone think that?

A few other students attempted to show off their dishes after Shun's stoic performance, but the judges were clearly still enamored with the smell of his, sighing wistfully as they chased the olfactory high no one else could provide. Satoshi smiled proudly at his trainee from behind the table, out of sight of those seated at it.

"Did Isshiki-senpai help you somehow?" Takumi asked. "He seems almost smug, for once."

"I asked him not to give me anything besides feedback," Shun muttered. "Otherwise, his head might overinflate."

Takumi couldn't quite hide his snort at that.

"Tell me about it," Ikumi interjected, rolling her eyes. "It took ages to get Eizan-senpai off of my back. Something-something-'don't make me look stupid, Mito-san, make sure you stay on budget without looking cheap'. Like I'd be trying to make a fool of myself in front of everyone else. Idiot."

Takumi glanced at Akira. "What about your mentor?"

Akira's jaw clenched. "Shiomi-sensei was very helpful. Kuga-senpai's a bit preoccupied right now."

Yūki made a huge performance of bouncing up to the judges before Takumi could ask what he meant.

"My extra-special Duck Cutlet Curry!" she said with a wide grin. "Please dig in!"

"YEAHHHH, YOSHINO-CHAN!" Shōji screamed from somewhere in the crowd. He and Daigo had been taking turns swapping between the two blocks to cheer for everyone in Polar Star. "YOU GOT THIS!"

She waved up at him. "THANK YOU, Satō-KUN! I'M DOING MY BEST!"

"Well, you can't say she's not enthusiastic," Akira said.

"If anything, this is subdued," Shun commented.

"Oh, how refreshing!" Kita said, lighting up at the dish. "A wild game curry, presented in the style of Japanese katsu but with flavors inspired by French canard à l'orange! What a delightful way to circumvent the gamey flavors you would have to work around."

"Yes!" Yūki said with her typical flair. "Duck is absolutely delicious if you know the proper way to prepare it, but many people fail to understand its exact value as a super decadent protein because of the gaminess. The duck that I used for this is from a line I've been breeding to try and reduce that particular flavor profile, but it doesn't hurt to add turmeric and orange to make it even yummier."

"This is a duck you bred yourself?" Andou asked, sounding interested. He took another thoughtful bite of the duck. "Yes, even under the orange, there is a mildness to this flavor that doesn't compromise the natural richness of duck meat. This is both a dish that must have duck and one that requires this particular lineage of duck. How interesting."

"'Interesting'!" Kita boomed with laughter. "It's a coup! Young lady, I simply must invite you to my gastronomy club! Surely, many of its attendees will want to hear of your successes."

"Wow!" Yūki squealed. "That's so generous of you, Kita-sama!"

"She gets along with everyone, huh," Akira said, nonplussed.

"If it weren't for how good she is at her craft, it would be grating," Ikumi said.

"If anything, it's a bonus," Shun said. "Many professional chefs have a reputation for being too standoffish. She's the most personable one in our class with any level of talent."

"Oh, Ibusaki-cchi!" Yūki had somehow overheard his last remark. Shun's impassive expression somehow froze into something far blanker. "That's the nicest thing you ever said to me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Wah! Why are you so mean to me?"

"I'm starting to understand why Saitō-san was so thrilled to be in Block A," Ikumi muttered to Takumi and Akira as Shun systematically ignored Yūki's needling.

"You get used to it," Takumi said.

Akira gave him an odd look. "Do you?"

Takumi sighed. "I tell myself that you do."

"Yoshino Yūki clocks in with 86 points!" Yua called. "And with that, we're nearing the end of the preliminaries here in B–Block B! Only ten students remain!"

The next student managed to claw just over twenty points from the judges, who seemed to be getting both more bored and stricter as they were treated to more stellar food. The girl was frozen in her mortification as Orie dismissed her with barely any thought given to her dish.

"Move." Momo didn't even wait for the girl's score to be announced as she approached the table. "You're in Momo's way."

The girl squeaked before fleeing, barely remembering to take her tray with her.

"Oho! Akanegakubo Momo, is it?" Kita's eyes glittered. "My daughter is quite the fan."

"Kita-sama's daughter has good taste," Momo said with a decisive nod. She put her tray down with a slight flourish. "Momo hopes this dish stands up to your high expectations."

She lifted her cloche to reveal a basket of bread shaped like turtles. The main body of each bun was as big as one of Takumi's hands, with smaller rolled balls of bread carefully attached to form the turtle's head, legs, and tail. Momo had carefully piped chocolate eyes on each turtle's face, and the shell was a lattice of sugar baked into the top of the main bun.

"What a delight!" Kita leaned over in anticipation. "Now, this doesn't look like a typical curry pan."

"This is curry pan Momo's way," Momo said. "Taking inspiration from turtle bread, melon pan, and curry pan. Please eat."

"Oh, I don't know if I could," Orie said, marveling at one of the turtles. "It's so soft!"

"Cute food tastes better," Momo said.

"I'm inclined to believe so!" Even Andou balked at the thought of biting into the turtle, but the alluring smell and feel of the warm bread finally enticed the judges enough to break the bread open.

Steaming creamy curry bubbled from inside the turtle, perfuming the air with an almost sweet spiciness. There was just enough that it didn't quite overflow onto the judges' hands, but it looked like it could.

"What a treat!" Kita said, happily sighing at the aroma of the curry. "There's coconut milk in this, and cinnamon as well."

"Panang curry," Momo said plainly. "Japanese curry is too strong for pastry like this. Momo modified it to be a bit sweeter than it normally would be and left out any proteins."

"It's an indulgent curry," Orie said, "and, if I'm not mistaken, you've emphasized that indulgence even further with your alterations."

"What do you mean, Orie-sama?" Kita asked.

"Give it a smell. You'll see."

Kita closed his eyes as he took in the full scent profile of the panang curry. Sweet, as all panang curries were, but with a sultry creaminess that transcended the typical. It was a thicker sweetness, one more typical of the baked goods Momo was known for, paired with a bevy of spices that made his mouth water at the thought of eating it. Finally, he took a bite from the curry pan.

The sugar shell gave way to fluffy, perfectly kneaded bread, crunching under his teeth. The curry was just as rich and delicious as it smelled, but there was another hint of a complementary yet unusual flavor just underneath it.

"White chocolate?" Kita finally said.

"A special batch of it made with coconut cream and milk rather than standard milk," Momo said, sounding satisfied. "Momo used around half of a bar to substitute for a third of the required volume of coconut milk in the panang curry."

A dessert that elevated the taste of curry with sugar, cooked to the perfect consistency and paired with soft bread… Kita took another bite of the curry pan, then another, and then another. The flavors of the curry continued to swim through his mouth, as if the bread was a pack of little turtles trudging through soft pastry and into a coconut-curry ocean, Momo acting as the guide that led the judges to such a beautiful sight. A truly innovative dish that steps over the boundary between courses and proposes an altogether new thing. Yes, this is why we sit through the mediocre and uncover the true gems yet to rise.

"That's 95 points to Akanegakubo Momo, cementing her far lead on the rest of Block B!"

Ikumi scowled. "That's going to be hard to beat. Damn it, Akanegakubo."

"She deserves it," Akira said. "I mean, dessert curry? What a thought."

"It's what she does best," Ikumi said with a sigh. "Well, I'm next, I think. Time to blow these guys away."

Momo glared at her as she walked over, Bucchi once again in hand. "You're not beating Momo," she declared.

"Well, that's for certain," Ikumi snorted. "Who else in this school is stupid enough to try a dessert curry?"

Momo allowed herself a smug grin before she glanced over at Takumi. "Stole the idea from Aldi-nyan," she admitted. "Momo's not so arrogant that she can't admit when silly boys have good ideas."

Takumi blinked. "How did I give you the idea to make a sweet curry?"

"The Shokugeki." Momo shrugged. "Lasagna can't be the only savory thing that can be turned sweet. Momo's been experimenting."

That struck Takumi silent. Momo's admission was as jarring as it was unexpected. He'd been inspired by his peers many times, up to this point; the dish he prepared for the Election had been carefully crafted thanks to advice and suggestions his dormmates made during their initial testing period. That he would provide that same sense of inspiration to someone as notably talented as Momo was a humbling shock.

Momo seemed to understand his train of thought because she immediately scowled at him. "Don't let it get to your head," she snapped. "You didn't even embrace the concept's full potential. Waste of a good idea, Aldi-nyan."

"Of course," Takumi said. "How silly of me."

Ikumi had already left to get her dishes ready for judging, arranging them all just so on her tray.

"Good luck," Takumi offered as she passed him.

She winked at him. "Save it for yourself, Aldini," she said with a smirk. "The Mito family needs no luck to excel."

"Mito Ikumi!" Kita said as she approached, his smile growing again. "Have all of the royalty of your year waited until the end of the block to show off?"

Ikumi gave a charming laugh. "Why, of course, Kita-sama," she said, putting her tray down on the judges' table with a coy grin. "We want you all to leave remembering us well, of course."

"Yes, yes," Kita said, sounding satisfied. "Now, what do you have for us today?"

"Feast your eyes and your senses!" Ikumi pulled her cloche back, revealing fragrant steam that rolled out onto the table.

"This smell," one of the other judges said, staring with open desire at the bowls Ikumi doled out. "Is this Dongpo pork?"

"Why, yes it is!" Ikumi's grin curled into a knowing smirk. "A specially made Dongpo pork curry don, a recipe I made just for today! Please enjoy!"

Ikumi didn't try to hide her satisfaction as the judges each took their tasting bite and then seemed unable to stop eating. "Of course, our esteemed judges are already aware of the Mito family's beef," she said. "We've been considering expanding into other meat products, and when my mother told me about our latest acquisitions in pork manufacturing, why, I couldn't just give that chance up! This is a recipe developed from both Dongpo pork and Kam Heong clams, though there is no seafood in this dish."

"An excellent choice," Orie said, even as she shoveled rice and pork into her mouth. "The decadence of this pork… it's hard to find its match in anything, even A5-quality beef."

"There's something in the rice," Andou said in a daze. "It's making me want to keep eating everything in front of me…"

"Tanjoyu," Ikumi said, clearly relishing the chance to reveal the secrets of her masterwork. "A personalized mixture of Szechuan peppercorns, garlic, star anise, and cloves in oil, to be exact."

"The bite of the tanjoyu mingles with the fatty luxury of the pork belly," Kita muttered, still scraping at whatever was left in his bowl. "A bold strategy, exchanging one flavor profile for another, back and forth until the battle is won and everything consumed…"

No wonder Eizan decided to take her on… this sort of strategic play was something only that kind of student would want to foster. I wonder what the future will look like under the command of this particular Meat General…

"90 points have been awarded to Mito Ikumi!" Yua announced.

Ikumi bowed to the judges, unable to keep the wide grin from her face. "Thank you! I hope you ate well."

"You know they did," Akira muttered when she returned to their small group. "They ate everything."

"Well, it'd be rude to point that out. Especially to that Sendawara twin." She shook her hands out. "You're up, Aldini."

"No need to remind me," Takumi muttered, doing one last sweep of his dishes before collecting them all on his trays and heading to the judges' table. As he moved, he felt his apprehension fade away, his stride lengthening as he went to deliver them their food.

This was just like the beginning of dinner rush, when the first few customers who trickled in could be given his full attention. That's all the judges were: customers who asked to be fed, he the chef meant to feed them.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, setting his trays down silently.

"Oh! You're the Italian boy," Kita said. "What have you got for us today?"

Takumi allowed a self-deprecating grin. "I'm sure you can guess," he says, pulling the cloche off of his dishes.

"A pasta dish!" Kita laughed. "As expected."

"This isn't quite Italian, though. Bacon, mushrooms, and peppers… this is the setup for a Naporitan, right?" Orie poked one of the mushroom bits with her fork. "You used curry instead of pasta sauce."

"Of course! Pasta sauce would make a poor showing for a curry-based competition, no?" Takumi said. "At the very least, I would not count pasta sauce as a curry."

"It's a rather lackluster appearing dish," Andou said, prodding the pasta. "It looks like something that could be served at just about any restaurant, high-end or not."

"Appearances can be deceiving, Andou-san," Kita said. "We at least owe it to the boy to taste what he made before we call it simple or lowly."

With that, he swirled a forkful of pasta and took a bite.

He dropped his fork, even as he chewed.

"What is this?" he demanded. "The body of this dish— I can feel it resonating through my skull!"

"This curry was made with a rich stock," another judge said, swirling another forkful of pasta hungrily. "Beef shin, chicken bone. I can taste fennel and green cardamom as well. But there's something more—"

"Soy sauce!" a third judge gasps. "This body of flavor, it can only be from soy sauce!"

"Not just any soy sauce," Andou said. "This is tamari soy sauce."

"One of my dormmates was happy enough to offload the tamari left over from making her latest batch of miso," Takumi explained.

"That can't be it," Kita argued, going in for another bite. "There's something more to this pasta that we're not seeing."

"This flavor…" Orie carefully mulled over her latest bite. "There's another ingredient that I can't see."

"The turmeric?" a judge ventured. "I can see that in the pasta's color clearly enough."

"No, there's—" Orie cut herself off with a gasp. "It's cheese! There's parmesan in this dish!"

"What?!" Kita stared down at his innocent-looking pasta. "That can't be…!"

"I'm tasting it too," Andou said gravely. "The boy's hidden it well."

"But where?" Kita began poking through his plate. "Are we simply missing it?"

"Let me draw back the veil for you," Takumi said. "Look at the pasta itself."

Orie examined a cut noodle. "The pasta is layered," she realized. "The outer layers have turmeric, as was mentioned earlier, but there's a third layer sandwiched between the spiced ones, much lighter in color."

"Thus ensuring an even amount of parmesan in every bite," Andou said. "As well as ensuring the cheese wouldn't melt in the heat while cooking the pasta."

"This dish is as much an interplay between its ingredients as Mito-chan's was," Kita said. "The tamari soy sauce in the curry interacts with the parmesan in the pasta, which brings forward the body of the stock. Perhaps the addition of typical Naporitan ingredients seems more cosmetic than necessary, but the mushrooms are a delightful addition to the dish and the bacon and peppers provide vital textures to chew through."

"It's a whole curry dish in and of itself, one that marries Italian sensibilities with Japanese food," Orie said, eyeing Takumi with more than a little avarice. "You may not have the notoriety of your classmates, but there's no mistaking your clear potential. You just may be the one to open the horizons between East and West, and I can't wait to see where you go."

She gave him a grin that was a little too predatory to be soft and welcoming. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, Aldini-kun," she cooed.

"Wow! 90 points to Aldini Takumi, as well!" Yua announced. "Back-to-back totals in the highest percentile…! And, from what it seems, we're about to add a third!"

"I'll be calling on that favor in the coming days," Akira said as he passed Takumi, dishes in hand.

Takumi nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh, you're the boy who was preparing the fish-head curry earlier!" Kita said, perking up. "What a spectacle of a dish to make for—"

Akira cut him off by silently removing the cloche, revealing his dish.

"—this…" Kita stuttered out, staring at the ramekin laid before him.

"Is this a pot pie?" another judge asked. "It's still a spectacle, I suppose, though one quite different from the one we expected."

"Perhaps," Akira allowed, "but first, I'd like to make a quick request. Please take your spoon and press down on the top of the pot pie."

Orie pursed her lips before following his orders, apparently too intrigued by the instruction to give an initial comment.

The pastry gave with a slight crackle, and an aromatic symphony flooded the room. All scent-memory of Ikumi and Takumi's dishes were swept away, replaced by the heady, thick smell of whatever blend of spices Akira had combined for this particularly potent explosion of sensation. All of the judges were physically blown back from their dishes, some of them looking almost faint in the aftermath.

"They haven't even tasted it yet," Takumi muttered to Ikumi.

"Why do you think I joined you when you went to barter with him?" she asked. "I know how good I am, and I know how good he is. No shot I'd get as high of a score as I did if I had to present after this."

Momo finally looked up from a small oil stain on Bucchi's face she'd been fussing over. "You went to politic with Haya-nyan and didn't invite Momo?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"It's not like you needed it in the end," Ikumi retorted.

Momo sniffed at that. "Still not polite."

After a few minutes of silent stupor, Kita was the first judge to reach for his spoon and take a bite of the pot pie, making sure to try the naan dipped in the curry inside of it at Akira's suggestion. Judging by his thunderstruck expression and the way his spoon slipped out of his hand, it tasted like heaven on earth at the very least.

"There's something here besides the expected for a fish-head curry," he said, looking at his plate with renewed wonder. "Something wondrous that makes your mouth water, even as the spice fills the back of your throat."

"Kuga-senpai got to him." Ikumi gave Akira's back a strange look. "I'd never think I'd see the day."

"Do he and Kuga-senpai not get along, then?" Takumi asked.

"They get along perfectly fine, it's just that he's never taken his advice before," Momo said, eyeing Akira with the same caution Ikumi wore. "Haya-nyan says his preferred spices burn out his delicate nose. Makes it hard to smell anything when it's completely numb."

Takumi blinked. "Why did he agree to work with him, then?"

"You know Hayama-san. Never one to give up on a spice, even if it makes his cooking worse." Ikumi frowned. "It's still weird that he's using it here, though. He doesn't have anywhere close to the years of experience with most of the other spices you need for curry, and he could have easily just used a recipe that was actually in his wheelhouse."

"Ibusaki-nyan isn't the only one hiding from everyone else," Momo stated. "Haya-nyan doesn't care about earning the most points right now. He's saving all of his biggest tricks for future rounds." She made a face. "Didn't any of you at least put in an effort like Momo did?"

"I tried," Takumi protested.

"Don't make fun of Momo, Aldi-nyan," she sniffed. "That recipe didn't show any of your work from this summer. You made it as a baseline test at the very least. If you cared about this round, you would have put in far more work than Momo saw. It's a disgrace."

"It's a smart decision," Ikumi corrected. "Besides, of all of us, you're the only one whose specialty is challenged by making curry. It makes sense for you to be the one who came up with something paradigm-shifting to the judges."

Momo scowled at Ikumi, though she looked far too smug behind the expression. "Don't make Momo laugh."

The judges didn't seem to find anything specifically notable in Akira's dish after the initial impact of his scent-bomb. They raved over it, of course; they fawned over his spice selection and the balance of his particular ingredients. Orie in particular seemed entranced by both Akira's dish and how he held himself, but even she held back on the most effusive praise. After all of it, his 92 points, while still higher than Takumi or Ikumi's scores, seemed almost lackluster.

"You didn't even try," Momo accused as the final few competitors walk over to the judges' table.

Akira scoffed. "Of course not. This isn't where we prove ourselves, so why should I?"

"Arrogant," Ikumi said in a singsong voice.

"I prefer practical," he said. "Besides, who cares? It's not like it takes any effort to stand out among our so-called peers."

Akira turned to them, coincidentally turning his back on the judges as well. "This is where the Election truly begins," he said to Ikumi, Momo, Takumi, and Shun, who'd managed to extricate himself from Yūki's grasp. "We don't have to worry about the expectations piled on us and the people in our corners. From now on, this is a contest between us and the others in the top sixteen who've made it in. If you don't bring your best game, I won't hesitate to tear you all down."

Ikumi's grin slipped feral. "Why, Hayama, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're declaring war on us," she says with a purr.

Food notes: these are the dishes these characters made in canon with a few details changed, Momo aside, of course. When possible, I referenced recipes given to make them.

Hisako's dish: I made the deliberate choice to change what Hisako referred to some of her spices from what was in the scanlations I reference while writing this, as the words for 'turmeric' and 'fennel' that I found weren't the romanizations provided. I opted for accuracy of the translated words over accuracy with the source material; if anyone reading has more insight to provide, I'm more than happy to adjust it back.

Momo's dish: The idea of a sweet curry was too intriguing to overlook. Sure, Momo could have made a normal curry, but isn't this more fun? Panang curry is a very mild Thai curry with a coconut milk base, typically served savory. Curry pan is a typically savory bun filled with Japanese curry, melon pan is a dessert bread with a scored sugar paste top (and, from my knowledge, not typically melon flavored), and turtle bread is bread shaped like a turtle. Sometimes, things are just that simple.

Ikumi's dish: The version here is from a description that someone who actually made her Dongpo pork curry gave on Reddit. According to them, if what they made was anything like what she did, it should have made it into the Election. I'll take their word on it!

Akira's dish: I suppose I could have just rewritten his dish entirely as well, but it was easier to give the same basic structure and change it. Of all of the Elite trainees, Akira's shown the least influence from his mentor, and I wanted to change that. I didn't leave out any details about it; what you remember in canon will be reused later, and if you don't remember it, perhaps don't look it up ;)