The day after Ryu's victory over Hayama, the second quarterfinal match was scheduled: Soma Yukihira versus Alice Nakiri. The entire school was buzzing about it—the creative diner chef versus the molecular gastronomy specialist. Traditional ingenuity versus cutting-edge science.
Ryu sat in the audience with Megumi, both of them there to support Soma but also to scout potential future opponents.
"I'm so nervous for Soma-kun," Megumi whispered. "Alice-san is so skilled with all that scientific equipment. What if—"
"Soma will be fine," Ryu assured her. "He thrives under pressure. And his creativity is his weapon against technical specialists."
The theme was announced: EGG DISHES
A deceptively simple theme that could go in countless directions. Alice immediately went for her molecular gastronomy equipment—spherification tools, liquid nitrogen, precision temperature controllers. She was making what looked like a deconstructed egg dish with multiple technical elements.
Soma, true to form, went in a completely different direction. He was making something that looked like a simple soufflé, but Ryu could see him adding unconventional ingredients—squid ink, cheese, some kind of fermented element.
The match was chaotic in the best way. Alice's precision versus Soma's creative chaos. At one point, Soma's experimental sauce exploded slightly, covering his station in a fine mist. He just laughed and adjusted.
When the judging came, Alice's dish was visually stunning—perfect spheres of egg yolk suspended in consommé, molecular foam garnishes, everything plated like modern art. The judges praised her technical mastery.
Then they tasted Soma's soufflé. It looked rustic compared to Alice's creation, but when they cut into it, the interior was a perfect contrast of textures—fluffy egg, gooey cheese, umami-rich squid ink creating marbled patterns. The judges' expressions transformed from skeptical to shocked to delighted.
"This is inventive chaos that somehow works," one judge declared. "It breaks rules but creates something unexpectedly harmonious."
Soma won, advancing to the semifinals. Alice looked devastated but shook his hand with grace.
As the crowd dispersed, Ryu caught up with Soma outside the arena.
"Congratulations," Ryu said. "That soufflé was insane."
"Thanks! Your laksa yesterday was incredible too!" Soma grinned, then his expression grew more serious. "Hey, we might face each other in the semifinals, depending on how the other matches go."
"I know."
"If we do—" Soma met his eyes, "—I want us to both go all out. No holding back because we're friends. The best way to honor our friendship is to push each other to cook our absolute best."
Ryu smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
The third quarterfinal was scheduled for the following day: Takumi Aldini versus Megumi Tadokoro.
Ryu spent the evening before the match with Megumi in the practice kitchen. She was a nervous wreck, convinced she didn't belong in the quarterfinals, certain she'd be eliminated.
"Takumi-kun is so skilled," she fretted, her hands trembling as she practiced her knife work. "His Italian techniques are flawless. His presentations are always beautiful. And I'm just—I'm just me. My cooking is too simple, too regional, too—"
"Megumi-san." Ryu stopped her hands gently. "Look at me. What did the judges say about your preliminary curry?"
"They said..." Megumi's voice was small, "they said it was the most comforting dish they'd tasted. That it felt like home."
"Exactly. That's your strength. Takumi cooks with technical brilliance and Italian pride. You cook with heart and hospitality. Both are valid. Both are powerful. You just need to believe in your own approach."
"But what if my approach isn't enough?"
Ryu thought back to his own match against Hayama, the moment when his grandmother's aged rempah had transformed his laksa from good to transcendent. Sometimes, what made the difference wasn't just technique—it was the soul you poured into the dish.
"Tell me about your hometown," Ryu said suddenly. "About the ryokan your family runs."
Megumi's expression softened. "It's a small inn by the ocean. We serve traditional meals to guests—mostly local seafood, seasonal vegetables, rice cooked in traditional pots. Nothing fancy, but people come back year after year because they say our food makes them feel welcomed, cared for."
"That's what you need to cook tomorrow," Ryu said firmly. "Don't try to compete with Takumi's Italian techniques. Cook the food that makes people feel welcomed. Cook like you're serving a guest at your family's ryokan who's had a hard day and needs comfort. That's your weapon."
Tears welled in Megumi's eyes. "You really think that's enough?"
"I know it is. Your hospitality cooking made judges cry in our practice shokugeki. It earned you a spot in A-Block. It got you into these finals. Trust it. Trust yourself."
The next morning, Ryu sat in the audience as Megumi and Takumi took their stations. The theme was announced: FISH
Takumi immediately went for an elaborate Italian seafood preparation—acqua pazza, a traditional dish but elevated with premium ingredients and sophisticated technique. He moved with confidence, every motion precise.
Megumi stood frozen for a long moment, the anxiety visible on her face. Then Ryu saw something change—her shoulders straightened, her hands steadied. She was making a decision.
She began preparing a traditional Japanese dish—nizakana, simmered fish—but not just any version. This was her hometown's specialty, passed down through her family for generations. She selected the freshest seasonal fish, prepared a dashi broth with painstaking care, and began the slow simmer with vegetables and seasonings that her grandmother had taught her.
The contrast between the two approaches was stark. Takumi's dish was energetic, aggressive, showy—he was searing fish, creating dramatic presentations, adding Italian herbs and olive oil with flourishes.
Megumi's cooking was calm, almost meditative. She tended her simmering fish with the care of someone performing a tea ceremony, adjusting heat minutely, tasting the broth constantly, treating every element with reverence.
When time was called and the judges tasted, the difference in their reactions was fascinating.
Takumi's acqua pazza was praised lavishly—"Technically perfect! The fish is cooked ideally! The Italian flavors are bold and confident!"
But when they tasted Megumi's nizakana, something happened. The judges went quiet. One actually closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
"This tastes like my grandmother's cooking," she said softly. "Like coming home after a long time away. The fish is so tender it almost dissolves on the tongue. The broth has depth that only comes from understanding, not just technique. The vegetables are cooked with such care. This is love on a plate."
Another judge added, "Aldini-kun's dish impressed us. It showed skill and confidence. But Tadokoro-san's dish moved us. It reminded us why we fell in love with food in the first place—not because it was technically perfect, but because it made us feel something."
The decision was unanimous: Megumi Tadokoro advanced to the semifinals.
Megumi looked absolutely shocked, like she couldn't believe what had just happened. Takumi stood very still, processing his loss, then walked over and bowed respectfully.
"Your cooking has a quality I can't replicate," he said honestly. "Today, that quality won. Congratulations, Tadokoro-san."
As Megumi left the stage, still looking dazed, Ryu and Soma were there to greet her.
"You did it!" Soma shouted, wrapping her in a hug that lifted her off her feet. "You trusted yourself and you won!"
"I can't believe it," Megumi kept repeating. "I actually won. I'm in the semifinals. How did this happen?"
"You cooked with your heart," Ryu said simply. "Just like I told you to."
Megumi looked at him with shining eyes. "Thank you, Ryu-kun. I almost gave up before the match even started, but remembering what you said—about cooking like I was welcoming a guest—that centered me. I stopped trying to be something I'm not and just... cooked."
The final two quarterfinal matches happened over the next two days. Erina Nakiri faced Hisako Arato in what everyone knew would be a one-sided match—and it was. Hisako cooked brilliantly, but Erina's God Tongue gave her an insurmountable advantage. She won decisively while still praising Hisako's effort.
The last match was Ryo Kurokiba versus Shun Ibusaki. Ryo, when he wore his bandana and transformed into his "serious mode," was a completely different chef—aggressive, powerful, overwhelming. His seafood dish was so intense it made judges physically react to the flavors. Ibusaki's smoking technique was impressive but couldn't match Ryo's raw power. Ryo advanced.
The semifinal matchups were announced:
Semifinal Match 1: Ryu Nakamura vs. Soma Yukihira
Semifinal Match 2: Erina Nakiri vs. Megumi Tadokoro
Wild Card Match: Ryo Kurokiba (highest-scoring quarterfinal loser returns)
The wild card system meant four would compete in semifinals, with the top three advancing to a three-way final.
Ryu stared at the announcement. He'd be facing Soma—his friend, his practice partner, someone he'd helped train. And Megumi would face Erina, which seemed almost cruel given their skill difference.
That evening, the semifinalists gathered informally in one of the student commons—Ryu, Soma, Megumi, and Erina. The atmosphere was strange, knowing they'd be competing against each other.
"So," Soma broke the awkward silence with his usual cheerfulness, "we're really doing this. Cooking against each other for real."
"Indeed," Erina said coolly. "Though the matchups are hardly balanced. Nakamura-kun and Yukihira-kun will have a genuine battle. My match against Tadokoro-san is—" she paused, choosing words carefully, "—mismatched."
"Hey!" Soma protested. "Don't count Megumi out! She beat Aldini, remember?"
"Because Aldini underestimated her," Erina replied bluntly. "I won't make that mistake. Her hospitality cooking is excellent, but against my God Tongue, excellence isn't enough."
Megumi looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. "Erina-sama is right. I don't know how I made it this far, but—"
"Stop that," Ryu interrupted. "You made it here because you deserve to be here. You've won every match by cooking your truth. Don't give up before you even start."
Erina's expression flickered—was that respect? Surprise? "Nakamura-kun is right, Tadokoro-san. You've earned your place. I expect you to give me your absolute best, even knowing you'll likely lose. Anything less would be an insult to both of us."
The backhanded encouragement was so very Erina that Megumi actually smiled slightly. "I'll do my best, Erina-sama."
"Good. Now—" Erina stood, "—I'm going to prepare. Nakamura-kun, Yukihira-kun—your match will determine who I face in the finals. Make it interesting."
After she left, the three remaining friends sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
"She's scary," Megumi said, "but also kind of inspiring? Like, she expects excellence and won't accept less, even from people she thinks will lose."
"That's Erina," Soma agreed. "Harsh but honest. Hey, speaking of honesty—" he turned to Ryu, "—what are you planning for our match?"
"You know I can't tell you that."
"Worth a shot!" Soma grinned. "Okay, then let me say this: I'm going to cook the best dish I've ever made. I'm going to push myself beyond what I thought possible. Because you deserve that. Because this friendship deserves that. Because the only way to truly respect someone is to face them with everything you have."
Ryu felt emotion well up. "Same. When we face each other, it'll be both of us at our absolute peak. And whoever wins—"
"We'll both have grown from it," Soma finished. "That's what competition between friends should be."
Megumi was wiping her eyes. "You two are making me cry. Stop being so wholesome about trying to defeat each other!"
They all laughed, the tension breaking. Whatever happened in the semifinals, their friendship would survive. Because they understood what Takeshi had taught Ryu—competition doesn't diminish friendship when both parties fight with respect and honor.