Chapter 87.
For someone as fiercely proud and composed as Erina, seeing her so flustered and vulnerable was an incredibly rare sight. The only other time her icy facade had cracked this profoundly was when she first tasted his food, but this was different—this was entirely unguarded.
Shijun was, after all, a normal teenage guy. Having her pressed against him, breathless and blushing, had undeniably sent a jolt through his system. But the thought of Rindo anchored him, and he mentally shook his head to clear the distraction.
Beside him, Erina seemed to realize just how far she had slipped. She took a sharp, deep breath, smoothing her skirt, and when she exhaled, the imperious queen of Totsuki had returned. She sat perfectly straight, staring ahead as if the entire compromising ordeal had never happened.
Only the lingering redness at the tips of her ears betrayed her.
Her ability to recover her composure was dizzying. Shijun couldn't help but think that if she ever decided to quit the culinary world, she would make a killing as an actress.
Before he could dwell on it any further, the car pulled up to his dormitory.
Erina had known for a while that Shijun owned an entire private building on campus, but she had never actually seen it.
She had actively tried to avoid getting entangled with him, yet fate seemed determined to keep crossing their paths.
Stepping out of the car, Erina's eye twitched slightly as a young woman in a pristine maid uniform approached to greet them.
He lives more like an aristocrat than I do.
Erina thought, a spike of irrational irritation flaring in her chest. How shallow.
They followed Shijun to the eighteenth floor, only for Erina to realize the entire floor had been converted into a single, sprawling penthouse. She didn't let her surprise show; the Nakiri estate was vastly larger, but the sheer luxury for a single student was still staggering.
"What would you like to drink?"
Shijun asked as they took a seat in the expansive living room.
"Black tea will be fine."
Erina replied, her voice perfectly leveled.
"Maria, three cups of black tea, please."
Shijun asked politely. He never really treated Maria like a servant; to him, she was more like an older sister who happened to manage his daily life.
As they drank their tea and sampled Maria's pastries, the atmosphere shifted.
What began as a tense silence slowly morphed into a genuine exchange of culinary theories. To Erina and Hisako's absolute shock, the conversation was not just pleasant—it was illuminating.
A casual observation from Shijun would suddenly untangle complex flavor profiles they had been struggling with for weeks.
His foundation was terrifyingly deep. Erina found herself studying him over the rim of her teacup, genuinely bewildered.
How does someone my age possess this much practical experience?
As the minutes ticked by, the lingering grievances between them began to evaporate. When he wasn't intentionally provoking her, Shijun was surprisingly easy to talk to. Erina's rigid mindset began to soften, admitting quietly to herself that sparring with him intellectually was actually a good thing.
The peace was shattered when the elevator doors chimed open.
Shijun had asked Maria to bring Megumi and her guest up, but he hadn't expected the elevator to deposit nearly the entire Polar Star Dormitory into his living room.
"Whoa! Shijun, your place is a literal palace!"
Yuki Yoshino shouted, bursting into the room with wide eyes. Before she could finish marveling at the architecture, her gaze locked onto the sofa.
She froze. "N-Nakiri-san?! What are you doing here?"
Behind her, Megumi and Ryoko looked equally paralyzed. None of them could process why the aloof God's Tongue was casually sipping tea in Shijun's apartment.
"He... invited me."
Erina managed, gesturing stiffly toward Shijun. She absolutely refused to admit she had essentially forced her way in just to stalk a legendary chef.
Yuki, never one to overthink things, just shrugged and happily bounced over to sit near them, completely ignoring the unspoken tension.
As Satoshi Isshiki and the others filed in, Shijun noticed they were all carrying large, stacked bento boxes.
"Don't tell me you brought your own catering to my place."
Shijun muttered, rolling his eyes. The Polar Star crew really operated on their own frequency.
Isshiki laughed, completely unabashed.
"Chef Saiba had already prepared lunch for us at the dorm before he suddenly rushed over here to meet you. So, we figured we would just bring the food and turn this into a party!"
Shijun didn't mind. He had crashed their dorm parties plenty of times, and it was only polite to return the hospitality eventually. Plus, it saved him the trouble of figuring out lunch for his unexpected guests.
But as the students set up the food, the crowd parted, and a tall man with long, tied-back reddish hair stepped forward.
Joichiro Saiba.
Shijun studied him, intensely curious as to why this culinary legend had sprinted across campus just to see him.
Seeing the question in the boy's eyes, Joichiro took a deep breath. His usual laid-back demeanor was gone.
"I heard from Tadokoro-san that you have already mastered the Realm of Culinary Mood." he said, his voice thick with emotion. He bowed his head slightly. "Please... teach me."
The room went dead silent.
His tone carried no arrogance, no challenge, and no expectation. It was entirely sincere. The legendary Second Seat of the Golden Generation was standing in front of a sixteen-year-old boy, lowering his head with the humble reverence of a struggling student asking a master for guidance.
It clicked instantly in Shijun's mind. Joichiro had reached the threshold.
When Dojima and the alumni had learned about Shijun's Culinary Mood, they hadn't asked him to explain it because the concept was entirely beyond their comprehension. You cannot ask directions to a place you cannot even conceptualize. But a chef who had touched the barrier could see the door—they just didn't have the key.
Through the system's vast knowledge, Shijun understood the true hierarchy of the culinary world.
The standard elite chefs ranked from levels one through nine. But the true apex was divided further into the Special, Super, Legendary, and Divine tiers.
Shijun guessed that the world's absolute best chefs, like Joichiro, were likely scraping the very bottom of the Super tier.
Shijun, powered by the system, had completely shattered that ceiling. He was more than qualified to instruct the man standing in front of him.
But why should he?
Just because this guy was Soma's dad?
Shijun mentally scoffed. He wasn't in the habit of handing out enlightenment for free to strangers, no matter how famous they were.
While Shijun sat there, his expression perfectly indifferent and unbothered by the legendary chef bowing before him, the rest of the room was in a state of absolute shock.
Erina stood up so fast she nearly knocked over her tea, her beautiful eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated disbelief.