Tōtsuki Resort – Hall A – 7:00 A.M.
Third POV
The doors to Hall A slid open, and the moment Riku and the girls stepped in, they were hit by a wave of motion and sound. Steam rose from rows of skillets, and the scent of butter and spices wove through the air like a living thing. Every station was alive — students moving with military precision, plating dishes, calling orders, and presenting food to evaluators who took notes like judges in a tribunal.
The girls froze for a moment, stunned by the sheer intensity.
Chisato blinked. "Why do I feel like they're fighting a war?"
Kaoru folded her arms, her tone calm but laced with amusement. "Because in a way, they are. I heard from my little kittens that Tōtsuki is infamous for its ruthlessness. Fail once, and you're expelled. No second chances."
Ran adjusted her cap slightly, eyes scanning the floor with measured interest. "Father mentioned something similar. He said there was a year when only five percent of students graduated."
Rinko frowned softly, glancing up at Riku. "What should we do, Riku?"
"Simple," he said, unbothered by the organized chaos. "Find something you like. But don't go overboard — remember, we're not just eating here. We're judging too."
"Judging?" Chisato asked, raising a brow.
Riku nodded. "Gin-san wants honest impressions from outside perspectives. So enjoy, but pay attention."
Before anyone could respond, Kokoro's eyes lit up like stars. "Onii-chan! Can we go where Erina-chan is?"
"Sure, why not?" Riku said, hands in his pockets. "Gin-san mentioned she's here too."
"Really?!" Kokoro scanned the hall until her eyes locked onto a familiar blonde head in the crowd. "There she is! I found her!"
Before Riku could react, Kokoro grabbed his wrist and bolted forward, dragging him through the crowd like a child pulling a kite in a storm.
Ran blinked as the two disappeared between food stations. "Well, that happened."
Kaoru chuckled softly. "Let's just do what ani-sama said."
The remaining four split off, wandering into the sea of aromas and sizzling pans.
Chisato drifted toward the left side of the hall, her curiosity piqued by a warm, herbaceous aroma cutting through the heavier scents of grilled meats and sauces. She followed it like a trail until she stopped in front of a neatly arranged station. On the counter sat a platter of golden frittatas, steam still curling from their edges.
"That scent... it's so fragrant," she murmured. "A frittata, huh? Riku told me that's an Italian dish, but something about this feels... different."
Her musing drew a voice from across the table.
"You are correct, signora," said a young man with short blond hair and sharp blue eyes — Aldini Takumi. His knife gleamed under the kitchen lights. "This frittata is meant to be eaten with insalata — salad."
He worked quickly, slicing a portion of the frittata into uneven, rustic pieces. He tossed them with crisp vegetables — cherry tomatoes, arugula, and spinach — and finished the dish with a delicate drizzle of balsamic reduction and a dusting of parmesan. Then, with a polite bow, he presented it to her.
"My Insalata Frittata, signora."
Chisato blinked in admiration. "An interesting take on a frittata... let's see."
She took a small forkful, and the moment it touched her tongue, her expression softened in surprise.
"The texture's so light..." she murmured between bites. "The eggs are fluffy, and the vegetables — so fresh, so crisp. The sauce balances everything perfectly. It's simple, yet... satisfying. The kind of breakfast that wakes you up gently."
Takumi smiled. "Grazie! I'm glad you enjoyed it."
As Chisato continued eating, Kaoru appeared beside her, her curiosity drawn by the scent.
"Chisato, what are you eating?"
"A frittata salad," she replied, gesturing toward Takumi. "You should try it."
Kaoru nodded politely. "Interesting... may I?"
Takumi smiled. "Of course."
He prepared another serving and handed it over. Kaoru took a thoughtful bite, closing her eyes as she let the flavor sink in.
"Such an elegant dish," she said softly. "The balance is remarkable — each element shines without overshadowing the others... ah, hakanai~." She smiled, bowing slightly. "Thank you very much for the meal."
Takumi's face reddened slightly at the praise. "It was my pleasure."
Meanwhile, on the far side of the hall, Ran moved with unhurried grace among the bustling students. Her sharp eyes flicked from dish to dish until a softer, humbler setup caught her attention — a small stand tended by a nervous-looking girl with dark blue hair braided neatly into pigtails.
"P-please," the girl stammered as another guest walked by, "try this dish if you'd like! It's my original bite-sized breakfast oden!"
Ran stopped in front of the station, intrigued. "Oden...? But smaller?"
The girl looked startled that someone had actually stopped. "Y-yes! I wanted to make something gentle and easy to eat in the morning, so I adjusted the dashi to be lighter, and—"
Ran picked up one of the small toothpicks, noticing a quail egg nestled beside small pieces of daikon and carrot. "I see. So it's meant to be eaten in one bite."
"Y-yes!" the girl said again, her nerves softening slightly under Ran's calm demeanor.
Rinko, who had drifted over, tilted her head. "Ran-san, what is it?"
Ran smiled faintly. "She calls it a bite-sized breakfast oden. It caught my attention."
Rinko leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "That's... interesting."
The two took a skewer each. The broth's warmth hit them immediately — subtle, delicate, and comforting.
Ran's thoughts quieted. A mild dashi... the flavors are so balanced. The egg, the vegetables — they're perfectly sized, so nothing overpowers anything else.
Rinko, too, felt the warmth spread through her chest. Such a gentle flavor... it feels like home. Like the kind of food someone makes when they want you to start your day smiling.
When they both opened their eyes again, they were smiling without realizing it.
Megumi Tadokoro stared for a moment — then, when she saw their expressions, her eyes lit up like a spark finally catching fire. Her voice trembled with newfound confidence. "T-thank you! I'm really glad you liked it!"
Ran set her toothpick down gently. "This is the kind of dish people underestimate. You don't win through flash here — you win through warmth. Remember that."
Megumi's hands trembled slightly as she nodded. "Y-yes! I will!"
Rinko smiled softly beside her. "You have a good heart, Tadokoro-san. It shows in your cooking."
The girl's eyes watered slightly, but she bowed deeply. "T-thank you!"
The scent of butter and toast filled the air as Riku and Kokoro made their way through the busy line of students. All around them, the clatter of pans and chatter of guests mixed into the soundscape of the festival, a symphony of sizzling ambition. Erina stood at the center of it all—commanding, graceful, yet visibly under pressure as she plated another set of dishes for her guests.
But before she could serve the next order, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Erina-chan! I'm here!" Kokoro waved enthusiastically, ignoring the students still waiting for service. "And I brought onii-chan here with me!"
Riku gave a casual nod. "Yo. Erina."
The young chef froze mid-motion, her golden hair swaying slightly as she turned toward them. Her eyes widened. "K-Kokoro-nee?! Nii-sama also?!"
Her outburst made the entire line grind to a halt. The surrounding students exchanged bewildered glances.
"Nakiri-san knows them too?" Takumi thought, eyes narrowing. "And she called Riku 'nii-sama'? What kind of connection do they have?"
Megumi, equally flustered, could only glance between the trio. "Are they... siblings? Or something more?"
Trying to compose herself, Erina coughed softly before setting down two plates with practiced precision. "This is my take on Eggs Benedict. For you, Kokoro-nee."
The aroma alone was enough to make Kokoro's eyes sparkle. She picked up her fork, sliced through the egg—and gasped with delight as the golden yolk cascaded down like molten silk. One bite later, her expression turned from excitement to awe.
"Erina-chan! You used Karasumi powder on the muffin, didn't you?"
Erina's lips curved slightly. "You noticed that fast? I'm impressed." Then, turning toward Riku, her demeanor shifted into something more reserved. "And as for you, nii-sama... this one's yours."
The surrounding students leaned closer. The plate before Riku looked nothing like Kokoro's—elegant, refined, and gleaming with a reddish sheen.
Riku's brows lifted as he studied it. "A Crab Benedict... clever. That's not something you serve just anyone."
Erina met his gaze, her voice steady but her fingers faintly trembling. "I wanted to show you how much I've grown."
That confession drew whispers from the crowd. It was rare enough to see Erina Nakiri cook for others, but crafting a personal dish for someone? That was almost unheard of.
Riku chuckled quietly, picking up his fork. "Alright then."
The moment he took the first bite, silence followed. He set down his utensils, savoring the balance of flavor before speaking.
"Incredible. The eggs are perfectly poached, the crab cooked right off the boil with just the right hit of spice. And the Karasumi powder that Kokoro mentioned... it elevates the flavor beautifully." He tilted the plate slightly, spotting something shimmering near the center. "Ah. And you hid caviar in the yolk's flow. You cheeky lass."
Erina's lips twitched upward. "I had to keep you guessing."
"Well done," Riku said simply, his tone carrying quiet pride.
For a brief moment, Erina let herself beam—until her eyes caught something across the hall. Her confidence faltered.
Following her line of sight, Riku frowned. "That's... not good. The dish's shape is collapsing. If that keeps up..."
"Yukihira-kun will be expelled," Erina finished grimly.
Riku folded his arms, studying the red-haired boy from afar. "Yukihira, huh? So that's him. Makes sense now."
Erina looked puzzled. "What are you talking about, nii-sama?"
"Never mind that for now. What are your plans for tonight?"
"Me and Hisako were planning to play some games," she replied hesitantly.
"Cancel them," Riku said without hesitation. "I need to talk to you. Something important."
"Important enough to call off my plans?" she pressed.
"Very much so. Meet me in Gin-san's office at eight. I'll let him know."
Before she could protest, the speakers crackled overhead.
P.A.: 45 minutes remaining!
The kitchen roared back to life.
Takumi clenched his fists, watching Soma struggle. "Yukihira! What now? You're running out of time!"
Megumi bit her lip, worry written all over her face. "Soma-kun..."
Erina crossed her arms. "So? What will you do now, Yukihira-kun?"
But as Riku observed him, something in Soma's eyes shifted—a quiet spark of clarity.
Riku smirked. "He figured it out."
Erina turned. "He did?"
Kokoro pointed toward Soma's counter. "Look, Erina-chan—someone's coming to his table!"
A small girl had approached, eyes wide with curiosity. Soma smiled and began preparing an omelette right before her, his movements fluid and rhythmic. The scent alone drew others closer. The girl took the first bite, and her eyes lit up as she devoured the dish in bliss.
Then came the ripple effect. One curious onlooker became two, then five, then an entire wave of hungry guests eager to see the boy's work firsthand. Soma's pace quickened—whisking, folding, plating with stunning rhythm. The once-empty counter now overflowed with life.
Riku leaned slightly forward, assessing the scene. "By my estimate... he's served around 140 already."
Erina blinked. "He managed to pull in the crowd just like that..."
"Not just the newcomers," Riku said, pointing behind them.
Erina turned—and froze. Some of her own customers were now drifting toward Soma's stall, drawn by the spectacle.
"He even took mine..." she muttered, half-annoyed, half-impressed.
Bit by bit, he's refining his tempo, Riku thought. Not breaking a sweat, either. Joichiro-san... your kid's got it in him.
He glanced sideways—only to find Kokoro openly drooling as she watched Soma cook.
"You want to go there?" he asked dryly.
Kokoro nodded eagerly, eyes shining like a kid on Christmas morning.
Riku sighed and led her toward Soma's station. The aroma hit immediately—soft eggs, light cream, butter just starting to brown. Soma barely noticed them as he worked, too immersed in the flow.
Riku reached over and picked up two freshly plated omelettes, handing one to Kokoro before tasting his own. The flavor bloomed instantly.
Now I see why it deformed earlier, he mused. He was treating it like a set dish, not realizing this kind needs to be eaten right away. Serve it buffet-style, and the texture breaks down. But flavor-wise? Brilliant.
He watched Kokoro devour her share, humming happily. Soon after, Chisato and the other girls appeared, drawn in by the smell.
"What's that, Riku?" Chisato asked.
"If I had to guess," he said between bites, "it's a soufflé omelette. You girls want one?"
They nodded quickly, grabbing plates for themselves. The moment they tasted it, their faces lit up.
P.A.: Yukihira Soma has served 200 meals!
The announcement rang through the hall like a bell of victory. Soma exhaled, pulling off his headband, sweat dripping but eyes bright.
Then came the sharp whistle.
P.A.: FINISH! STOP RIGHT THERE!
All motion ceased. The tension broke like a wave as chefs either sighed in relief or dropped to their knees in defeat. Soma stood tall among them, breathing heavily yet proud.
Across the hall, he caught Erina's eye—and flashed her a smug grin and a thumbs-up.
"What's with that 'Did you see that?' face?! Finishing at the last moment isn't something to be proud of!"
Erina's sharp voice rang across the hall as she glared at Soma, whose smug grin hadn't faded since the final whistle.
Riku raised a hand, calm as ever. "Easy there, Erina. Don't bite his head off."
Before Erina could retort, a lively voice chimed in from behind them.
"That was surprising! I thought you'd get stuck around eight meals or so, but you managed to pull that off at the end—color me impressed."
The trio turned, and both Riku and Erina froze for different reasons. The newcomer was a girl with porcelain skin and short, silvery hair that framed her face. A single longer strand reached her chin, and her ruby-red eyes glittered with mischief—eyes nearly identical to Riku's. Her figure was every bit as refined as Erina's, though her energy felt far more untamed.
Soma blinked. "Ha?"
Riku sighed quietly. "...Alice?"
Alice's grin widened as she darted forward, wrapping her arms around Riku's. "Long time no see, Riku-nii-sama~!"
The air went still. Several students nearly dropped their utensils.
Chisato, standing just behind Riku, twitched at the sight—her voice calm, but her aura anything but. "Excuse me... but who exactly are you to cling to onii-sama like that?"
The way she emphasized the honorific made even Rinko and Kokoro take a half-step back.
Alice, however, looked utterly unfazed. "Oh? I'm Nakiri Alice, and as you can see, Erina here is my cousin. As for Riku-nii-sama..." She tightened her hold and flashed a playful smile. "He's my dearest brother~"
The hall practically buzzed.
Soma scratched his head. "Wait, so he's a Nakiri too?"
Riku shook his head, already used to the assumption. "No. They just see me as an older brother. Nothing more."
"Huh." Soma looked between them. "So you're both Nakiris, but he's not? Okay, fine—but do you also have that 'God Tongue' thing I keep hearing about?"
Alice laughed. "Nope. Only Erina inherited that trait in our generation."
Riku glanced down at her, still pinned by her clingy embrace. "Alice... how long do you plan to hold my arm like that?"
"You don't like it? You didn't mind when we were kids," she teased, leaning closer.
He exhaled. "Yeah, but... look in front of you."
Alice turned—and immediately regretted it. Chisato's smile had gone cold and precise, the kind that promised trouble. Beside her, Rinko's quiet stare radiated subtle menace. Even Ran, who normally stayed out of drama, looked mildly amused while Kaoru simply shrugged in surrender.
Alice blinked. "And they are...?"
"My other childhood friends," Riku replied dryly.
"Right," Erina added, her tone polite but strained. "You did mention that you were taking a short vacation here with them."
Riku nodded. "Good memory. Let me introduce you properly."
He gestured to the tall girl with violet hair first. "That's Seta Kaoru."
Kaoru placed a hand dramatically over her heart. "A pleasure to meet such radiant beauties. To marvel at your presence is to witness the fleeting grace of the moon itself—ah, hakanai~"
Alice blinked once. "A flamboyant one, huh."
Erina muttered under her breath, "Does she always do that?"
"Most of the time," Riku said flatly. "Anyway, the girl with the short black hair is Mitake Ran."
Ran gave a curt nod. "Mitake Ran. Pleasure."
Erina straightened slightly. "On behalf of Tōtsuki, I'd like to thank your family for the flower arrangements you sent. They were exquisite."
Ran's voice softened. "It's nothing much... but you're welcome."
Riku moved on, his tone shifting as he gestured toward the blonde who was still giving Alice a death stare. "The one currently glaring at you is Shirasagi Chisato."
Alice's grin returned. "Shirasagi Chisato? The famous actress? Oh~ you really hit the jackpot there, Riku-nii-sama."
The teasing made Chisato stiffen slightly, the tips of her ears reddening.
"Enough, Alice," Riku said lightly. "Don't call her that—it makes her uncomfortable."
Alice blinked, then raised both hands in mock surrender. "Ah, my bad. Sorry about that, Chisato-san."
"It's fine," Chisato said evenly. "But maybe let go of him now? You can see he's not exactly comfortable either."
Riku's brow twitched as Alice reluctantly released his arm.
"Thank you," he said with a sigh of relief. "Anyway, you already know Kokoro, right?"
Alice's playful demeanor softened. "Of course. Good to see you again, Kokoro-nee-sama."
Kokoro beamed, stepping forward to hug her. "Alice-chan! It's been so long!"
Riku smiled faintly at the sight before motioning to the quiet silver-haired girl standing beside him. "And this here is Shirokane Rinko."
Rinko bowed politely, her hand unconsciously tightening around Riku's. Alice noticed immediately, her ruby eyes glinting with mischief.
"Ara~," she hummed. "Is she, perhaps, your girlfriend?"
Riku didn't flinch. "She's someone very important to me." His gaze didn't waver. "But we'll leave that topic for another time."
That shut Alice up for once.
He then turned toward Soma, who had been watching the whole exchange like an audience member unsure if he was allowed to laugh.
"Yukihira Soma, right?" Riku asked.
Soma blinked. "Yeah... how do you know my name?"
Riku studied him for a moment, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his eyes. "Hm. Yeah, there's no mistaking it. You really are your old man's kid."
That caught Soma off guard. "Wait—you know my dad?"
Riku nodded. "Your old man and my father were friends—and business partners, for a time. He told me you had potential, even back then. Said you'd make a great chef one day."
Soma scratched his cheek awkwardly. "He said that, huh?"
Riku smiled faintly. "And judging from what I saw today, I can see why."
Reaching into his coat, Riku pulled out a small card and handed it to Soma. The boy turned it over, reading his name and number printed neatly across the surface.
"If you ever need help," Riku said simply, "call that number. I can't promise I'll come personally—but anyone who does will be someone from me."
Alice crossed her arms, grinning. "Well, how about that? Looks like Riku-nii-sama's officially approved of you, Yukihira-kun."
Soma blinked. "Is that... a big deal?"
Erina turned toward him with a faint, almost incredulous look. "You have no idea. Getting a favor from one of the Celestial Families is monumental. Even I didn't expect nii-sama to acknowledge you like that. For someone from such a humble background, you've earned my respect."
Soma smirked. "What's this? Her Majesty Nakiri Erina respects me?"
"Don't push your luck, Yukihira-kun," she snapped, though her tone held less bite than usual. "Nii-sama has approved of you, so don't disappoint him."
Riku exhaled softly. "Hate to break up your royal banter, but—"
The loudspeaker interrupted.
P.A.: This is a message for those who completed 200 meals!
Everyone turned toward the ceiling as the next announcement echoed.
P.A.: The next assignment will begin in four hours. Until then, students are granted free time. That is all.
The hall collectively sagged. Some students groaned, others simply collapsed from exhaustion.
Riku eyed them calmly. "You all need rest. Don't go doing anything unnecessary."
Erina gave a tired nod. "I will."
Alice stretched lazily. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. A little nap and I'm good as new."
Riku smirked faintly. "Then I'll hold you to that. And Soma—"
The boy straightened instinctively.
"—I'm expecting a lot from you. Survive."
The simple word carried weight. Soma stared at him, momentarily caught off guard, before a grin crept across his face. "You got it."
Riku nodded once. "Good. Alright, girls—let's go." He turned toward Erina briefly. "And Erina... what I told you earlier."
She nodded silently, understanding.
As Riku and his childhood friends exited the hall, Alice tilted her head toward her cousin. "So? What did Riku-nii-sama want to talk to you about?"
Erina sighed softly. "He said it's something concerning me... and that we'd meet at Chef Dōjima's office while he's here."
Alice's eyes glimmered with curiosity. "Then I'm coming too. If it concerns you, it concerns the Nakiri name as well."
Erina gave a half-smile. "Do what you want." Her gaze flicked toward Soma, who was stretching his arms after the long battle. "Yukihira-kun, get some rest. You'll need it."
Soma waved lazily, still grinning. "Yeah, yeah. See you around, Nakiri."
Erina rolled her eyes but didn't hide the faint curve at the corner of her mouth.
As the hall emptied and the smell of cooked eggs faded, the remnants of tension gave way to something new—respect, perhaps, or the quiet spark of rivalry.
Whatever it was, it lingered in the air long after they'd all gone.
8:20 A.M. — Tōtsuki Resort
The late morning sun spilled softly across the glass windows of the dining hall, scattering flecks of gold over half-finished plates and empty coffee cups. The girls had already finished their breakfast, though a few of them lingered, nursing tea and conversation.
"So," Riku asked, leaning back with a small, amused grin, "how's the breakfast?"
Chisato set her fork down neatly. "It was refreshing. That frittata salad was something else. Light but packed with flavor."
Kaoru gave a satisfied sigh, resting her chin in her hand. "Indeed. Oh, how I wish I could get the recipe. I want to eat that every now and then—preferably without the fuss of cooking it myself."
Ran poked her plate lazily. "The bite-sized breakfast oden was good. Kokoro would've loved it if she didn't run away with nii-san again."
Riku chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "I'm glad you girls enjoyed it. Since we've got a bit of time before lunch, what do you want to do?"
Chisato glanced toward Kaoru. "Actually, we were planning to go to the spa. A few hours of quiet might help after all that chaos yesterday."
"Really now?" Riku asked, tilting his head slightly. "Anyone else have other plans?"
Kokoro's hand shot up immediately. "There's a mountain climbing range nearby! I've been dying to try it!"
Ran gave a lazy wave. "I'll join Chisato and Kaoru. I want to relax while I can."
"Fair enough," Riku said, nodding. "So that leaves me and Rinko." He smiled lightly. "Alright then. Let's meet at lunch, sound good?"
Everyone nodded—except Rinko, who lingered quietly beside him as the others dispersed.
When the dining area had emptied, Riku exhaled, his expression softening. "Looks like it's just us... again."
"You're right," Rinko said quietly. Her fingers brushed together. "Riku... can I—"
"Nagae-sama!"
A staff member jogged up, interrupting her before she could finish.
Riku turned with practiced politeness. "How can I help you?"
"There are some people wanting to see you," the staff explained, slightly out of breath. "They're waiting at the lobby."
"The lobby?" Riku raised a brow. "Alright, take me there." Then he looked to Rinko. "Come with me. Might as well stretch your legs too."
She nodded, and he reached for her hand—casual, almost automatic—to guide her through the resort's hallways.
Tōtsuki Resort Lobby — 8:25 A.M.
Rinko POV
I didn't expect Chisato-san and the others to have plans so early, so I was hoping... maybe I could ask Riku to spend the morning with me. A small date, just the two of us. But before I even had the courage to speak, the staff called him.
And now here we were, walking hand in hand toward the lobby. He held my hand lightly, not even realizing how much steadier that made me feel.
As we entered the spacious marble lobby, I spotted someone waving enthusiastically at us. The moment I turned to Riku, his face had already fallen flat into irritation.
"What in the flat living fuck are you morons doing here... Johan?"
I blinked. Johan-san? The rest of OG stood behind him, grinning like they'd just pulled off a prank. I hadn't seen them in person before—only in videos and old competition footage. The global champions, all gathered in a luxury resort in Japan.
Johan-san only laughed. "Come now, Riku. We didn't come here to goof off." He handed Riku an envelope. "Here. Read it."
Riku unfolded it, scanned the contents, and froze mid-breath. "Sanzaemon-dono invited you to perform? But why?"
Misha—tall, broad-shouldered, the one who looked perpetually calm even among chaos—shrugged. "That we don't know. We called for details, and he just said he wanted a world-class performance for some students currently training here."
Understanding dawned instantly between them. Riku's annoyance dissolved, replaced with his usual composed air.
"I see," he murmured. "So that's how it is." Then he turned toward me. "Oh right, Rinko, this is Mikhail Agatov—or Misha. He's the current captain of OG, the one I substituted for back in Stockholm."
I bowed lightly. "I'm Shirokane Rinko. It's an honor to meet you, Mikhail-san."
Misha-san smiled, gentle but amused. "Pleasure's all mine. But you can just call me Misha."
Before I could reply, Yuragi-san—tall, wiry, and perpetually smirking—leaned on a column. "By the way, Riku, why are you here? Not exactly your kind of vacation spot."
"Sanzaemon-dono gave me a voucher for an all-expense-paid stay," Riku explained easily. "I brought five of my childhood friends. Grandfather also gave me a week off, so I figured... why not? Oh, and where's Ammar?"
Bzm-san, who was leaning against a luggage cart, grunted. "The fucker caught a cold. Nothing serious, doctor says he'll be up in three days."
Riku nodded. "I see. So, where are you guys staying?"
"Eighth floor," Johan-san answered.
Riku blinked. "Same as us." He looked at me. "Rinko, want to come along?"
"Sure," I said softly.
Eighth Floor — OG's Room
The walk didn't take long, but I could feel the shift in energy as soon as we entered their assigned suite. It was soundproof, sleek, and filled with instrument cases and equipment. The faint smell of polished wood and metallic strings hung in the air.
"This is basically a portable studio," Riku said, glancing around.
"Perfect for last-minute rehearsals," Johan-san replied.
They talked casually as if no time had passed between them. There was a strange sense of brotherhood there—mutual respect without the need for extra words.
"So," Riku asked, setting down his bag, "I heard from the Red Bull rep that you got a lifetime contract too."
Johan-san's grin widened. "You too?"
"Yeah," Riku said, leaning against the wall. "I signed it. I'm planning a comeback once things settle down here."
"Good," Johan-san said simply. "Happy to know your drive hasn't dimmed."
I hesitated before speaking. "Umm... if I may ask, what are you planning to perform here?"
Johan-san scratched the back of his neck. "Honestly? We have no idea yet. But with Riku here..." he smirked, "we could give the students a little recap of the finals, don't you think?"
Both Riku and I raised a brow. The finals—the one that made OG world champions—were practically legendary. The idea made sense.
"Not a bad idea," Riku said. "Though I'd like to add something."
Johan-san tilted his head. "Add something?"
"Yeah." Riku took out his phone, swiped a few times, and showed him a file. "I was saving this for my competitive return, but... since we're here, might as well make use of it."
Johan-san's eyes scanned the title and widened slightly. "Yuudachi... that's the name of the song?"
"Yup."
He gave a small nod, intrigued. "We can work that in. Performance starts tomorrow at three. They're setting up the main hall for it." He gestured toward one of the cases. "And as for your instrument... good thing we brought this."
He opened the case and revealed a familiar guitar.
Riku's eyes widened. "This is the guitar I left in Portugal... you actually brought it here."
"Couldn't leave it behind," Johan-san said. "It's basically part of OG history."
Riku smiled faintly, then turned to me. "Rinko, you want to see how we practice?"
My heart jumped a little. To watch OG practice live—wasn't something that happened twice in a lifetime.
"Are you sure you're okay with me watching?" I asked carefully.
"Sure," Johan-san said, waving it off. "We don't mind. We're not hiding trade secrets or anything."
The others nodded in agreement, some smiling, some just shrugging. Misha-san even pulled out a chair for me.
"Front row seat," he said warmly.
I sat down quietly as they began to set up. Riku adjusted the guitar strap around his shoulder, his movements precise but relaxed. To his left, Taiga-san tuned his own instrument, plucking soft notes that hung in the air like sparks. Yuragi-san checked his bass cables. Misha-san settled behind the drum kit, spinning the sticks in his hands like a ritual. Bzm-san powered on the keyboard and ran a few scales. And Johan—centered in front—adjusted the mic stand with an almost casual confidence.
In a matter of minutes, the air in the room shifted. The silence before creation.
Johan clapped his hands once. "Alright, boys. You've got your copies of the track. We'll start with the guitar solo—get the tone right—then bring in bass, drums, and keys. Once everyone's comfortable, we'll run it all with vocals."
The plan was efficient, precise—like soldiers rehearsing before a war.
"Artem," Riku called out, glancing toward Yuragi-san. "You've got the lines?"
Yuragi-san just nodded with that trademark half-smile.
"Good," Riku said, shifting his grip on the guitar. "Let's try this in one take."
Johan-san gave a short laugh. "Confident as ever."
Riku smirked. "You wouldn't expect less."
Johan-san turned toward the rest. "Alright then. Let's start."
------------
Tōtsuki Resort Dining Hall – 12:00 NN
Riku's practice with OG ended faster than I expected—one take. Just one take. They skimmed the sheet music once, then nailed it flawlessly on their first try. I honestly couldn't tell if I should be impressed or terrified. Even Roselia would need a few runs to polish something that complex. I caught myself gaping before shaking the thought away. Riku looked happy, satisfied even, and that alone made me calm down.
Since their rehearsal wrapped up earlier than planned, they suddenly had more free time than anyone else. I sat nearby as Riku and Johan-san chatted, each recounting what had happened during the week from their own perspectives. They laughed about the close calls, traded jokes about perfectionism, and Johan-san even took a moment to compliment my own band's performance from a few days ago. He called it "disciplined but burning"—which honestly, I'll take as one of the best compliments I've ever received. He even said, with that warm smile of his, that I was now officially part of the Red Bull family. I didn't expect words like that to lift me so much, but they did. I felt... seen.
When lunch rolled around, we regrouped in the dining hall. The others—Chisato-san, Kaoru-san, and Ran—were already there, looking like they had just returned from a day at a spa. I had to clarify in my head which "Ran" I meant; having both Mitake-san and Yakumo-san in one resort was a daily naming hazard. Kokoro-chan joined soon after, bright as ever, holding up her phone to show us a picture of her latest achievement: she'd broken the resort's mountain climb record. Riku gave her a light pat on the head, and she practically sparkled at the gesture.
The girls, naturally, bombarded Riku with questions about why Johan-san and OG were here. Riku explained the whole story with his usual calm rhythm, and by the end, the room buzzed with anticipation for tomorrow's performance.
It was strange, though—no one handed us a menu. One of the staff approached and explained that today's lunch would be prepared by the students themselves, as part of their training camp. A few curious murmurs went around the table before the dish finally arrived: seared rack of lamb. I'd never seen something plated that elegantly before, much less eaten it. The aroma alone was enough to make my stomach growl.
Riku and Kokoro-chan seemed entirely unfazed, though—they must've eaten this kind of thing before. We clasped our hands in thanks, and I took my first bite.
Tender, perfectly cooked, with a depth of flavor that practically melted on my tongue. The sauce was rich but balanced. I didn't even realize how quiet the table had gone until I noticed everyone eating slowly, just savoring it. "Delicious" didn't even begin to cover it.
After lunch, the day slipped into that lazy, pleasant lull where time didn't matter. We ended up hanging out in OG's suite. The room felt like a mix of a musician's lounge and a war room—sound gear in one corner, empty coffee cups and music sheets scattered in another. The girls seized the chance to talk shop with Johan-san and his crew, asking for advice on stage presence, composure, and long-term stamina. When they found out I got to personally watch OG rehearse earlier, they groaned in envy, realizing they'd missed out. Riku just grinned and shrugged—it wasn't like he planned it that way.
Two hours later, a soft knock interrupted our chatter. One of the staff stepped inside and bowed politely. "Nagae-sama. Chef Dōjima requests your presence."
Riku blinked once, then replied, "Can the girls come with me as well?"
The staff nodded. "They can."
He stood, dusting off his jacket. "Then let's go."
Riku's POV – 2:00 P.M.
We followed the staff through the quiet corridors of the resort until we stopped before a door labeled Changing Room. I could already sense who was waiting inside. When the door slid open, my hunch was right—Gin-san stood there, arms crossed with that calm authority he always carried. Beside him was Sanzaemon-dono, the ever-composed headmaster of Tōtsuki, and next to them... a little girl.
She couldn't have been older than thirteen or fourteen. Short purple hair, fringed bangs, and eyes that looked both sharp and detached. She hugged a large, purple stuffed cat close to her chest, almost like it was a shield. Her chef uniform was pristine, though; every button and fold perfectly placed. Cute, but intimidating in her own quiet way.
Gin-san gave a small nod. "Riku, you came as I asked."
Sanzaemon-dono smiled faintly. "How's your stay so far, Riku?"
"Peaceful enough," I said. "So... is she my opponent today?"
The girls behind me froze, as if I'd said something absurd. To be fair, it wasn't every day you saw a grown man challenging a child in a culinary match.
Sanzaemon-dono answered with his usual composure. "Yes. Akanegakubo, introduce yourself."
The girl adjusted her stuffed cat slightly before bowing.
"Akanegakubo Momo. Tōtsuki Elite Ten's Fourth Seat."
Her tone was flat but carried a quiet pride. "I heard from the director you're an artisan like me. It's a shame you're not walking the same culinary path."
I smiled faintly. "We all make our choices. You cook. I forge. Still... let's have a good match."
I held out my hand. After a short pause, she switched her stuffed cat to her left arm and shook my hand with her right—her grip surprisingly steady for someone her size.
"Hmm... same to you," she muttered.
"So, what's the sitch?" I said to Gin-san.
Ran leaned in, whispering, "Sitch?"
I couldn't help but grin. "Short for situation."
Gin-san stepped forward. "The students are gathered in the main hall right now, waiting for the final segment of today's program. Your match with Akanegakubo will conclude the event."
"Got it," I said. "And I assume you brought me here to prepare?"
He nodded toward a locker at the back of the room. "Your chef's uniform is ready. Change up and get in the right mindset."
As Gin-san, Sanzaemon-dono, and Momo stepped out, I turned to the girls still hanging back. "You might want to head out too. I'm about to change... unless you'd rather stay and enjoy the view."
Their faces lit up like sirens. In unison, they bolted for the door.
When the door shut, I chuckled under my breath. "Didn't even give me a chance to joke properly."
I opened the locker. Inside hung a sleek chef's uniform—a light violet jacket trimmed with black, paired with matching pants. It looked custom-made. As I pulled it on, one question gnawed at me: How the hell did they know my size? Then I spotted the detail embroidered on the left breast—OG's logo, flanked by the three Aegis insignias above it.
I tightened the cuffs and exhaled. "Looks like I'm really doing this."
Once I stepped out, the air shifted. Gin-san gave an approving nod. "You look good in that, Riku."
"Appreciate it," I said dryly. "Though seriously, how did you know my size?"
He chuckled. "Yuyuko told me."
A small tick formed in my jaw. Of course she did.
"I'm adding another month to her punishment," I muttered.
Sanzaemon raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that excessive?"
"Tell that to the glutton who thought it was a good idea to plant a recorder in my room."
That earned me two raised brows and a sharp silence. Gin-san looked like he wanted to ask for details, but thought better of it. I decided to move on.
Through the glass partition, I could see the dining hall beyond. The students were just finishing their meals, laughter and chatter filling the room. Soon, that same hall would turn into an arena.
"They're almost done," I said. "We'd better get ready."
Gin nodded. "The ingredients you'll use are prepped on the side table. This won't be a casual exhibition, Riku. This will be your Shokugeki debut."
I looked down at my gloved hands, flexing my fingers once before meeting his eyes. "Then I'll make it count."
Sanzaemon smiled faintly. "That's what I wanted to hear."
As they left to take their positions, I stood alone for a brief moment, the hum of the kitchen equipment filling the silence. For all the duels, rehearsals, and battles I'd fought through, this one felt... different. No cards, no lightning, no chaos—just fire, steel, and timing.
I ran a hand through my hair and straightened the collar of my uniform. "Let's cook."
And somewhere down the corridor, I could already hear the distant applause as the audience began to gather.
Tōtsuki Resort – Main Dining Hall
3rd POV
The students, still basking in the afterglow of their hard-earned meal, turned toward the front as Gin Dojima stepped onto the stage. His presence alone was enough to pull the room into silence. The murmur of conversation faded, replaced by the faint hum of curiosity.
"Now," Gin began, his deep voice carrying across the hall, "there is one more thing to add before we end this training camp."
Dozens of students exchanged wary looks. The last time he'd said something like that, they ended up working through the night. Some already braced themselves for another sudden test.
He smirked faintly, reading their expressions. "No need to worry. This isn't a task for you students."
The collective sigh that followed nearly shook the walls. Relief washed over the hall—until his next words snapped it in half.
"Instead... this will be a Shokugeki."
The word detonated in the air. For a moment, no one moved. Then came the reaction—a wave of whispers, gasps, and clattering silverware. Students jolted upright, disbelief painted across their faces.
"Shokugeki?" Soma leaned toward Erina, eyes wide. "Oi, Nakiri, you know anything about this?"
Erina's composure wavered for once. "No... this is the first I've heard of a Shokugeki being held at the end of the training camp. What could Grandfather be planning...?"
Gin, ever the calm in the storm, raised a hand for silence. "You're probably wondering why there's a Shokugeki being held here of all places. But I think it's best for the one behind this decision to explain it himself."
He stepped back, handing the microphone to a figure approaching from the side. The moment that voice filled the room, everyone froze.
"Thank you, Gin."
The students turned as one. Nakiri Sanzaemon—the Director himself—walked onto the stage. His presence carried the weight of authority that could crush lesser wills. Erina and Alice shot up from their seats simultaneously, eyes wide.
"Ojii-sama!?"
Takumi nearly dropped his glass. "The Director himself?!"
Megumi whispered, "Is this Shokugeki that important...?"
Sanzaemon's deep voice rumbled through the hall as he cleared his throat. "Ahem. To answer why I'm here—it is because I will personally judge this Shokugeki. Alone."
Shock rippled across the room. One judge? The Director himself? That meant the duel was no mere exercise. Whatever this was, it carried weight.
Now all eyes turned to the stage, silently asking the same question: Who's fighting?
"And as for the duelists..." Sanzaemon paused, gesturing to the wings. "They are these two."
Two spotlights flared to life, illuminating a pair of figures as they stepped into view. The students craned their necks for a better look—then froze again when they recognized one of them.
"Wait..." Erina whispered, breath catching.
Alice's eyes widened. "No way... that's—"
"Nii-sama," Erina breathed. "Is that really him?"
Alice blinked rapidly, disbelief overtaking her voice. "Riku... nii-sama?"
Soma turned to them, confused. "He's a chef?"
Erina shook her head, eyes still locked on the stage. "No. He isn't. He's... a bonafide musician." Her gaze hardened. "Alice, come with me."
"I'm right behind you," Alice said, standing immediately.
They moved toward the stage, ignoring the murmurs now sweeping through the crowd like wildfire.
Sanzaemon continued, voice even. "The duel will be between Tōtsuki's own Fourth Seat, Akanegakubo Momo—" the girl in the cat-eared hairstyle stepped forward, stoic and silent "—and her opponent... the heir of the Nagae Family, Nagae Riku."
The hall erupted. The chatter rose into chaos until Erina's voice cut through, trembling with anger and confusion. "Ojii-sama! What is the meaning of this? Why is nii-sama there?!"
Alice followed suit, her tone sharper. "Why is Riku-nii-sama involved in this at all?!"
The murmurs doubled. Whispers hissed between tables. Neither Erina nor Alice cared to answer. Their eyes were locked on Sanzaemon, who only smiled faintly beneath his beard.
"To answer your question, Erina..." he began, his voice deep and deliberate, "I brought Riku here to give everyone a reality check."
The entire room went still. Every student in Tōtsuki knew what that meant. When the Director said "reality check," it wasn't about grades or cooking speed. It was about humility—the kind you earned through defeat.
Sanzaemon continued, slow and measured. "That was the plan at first. But as of this morning, I've decided to... change the purpose of this duel."
Riku, still standing beside Momo, crossed his arms and spoke up. His tone was calm, but there was an edge underneath. "Sanzaemon-dono, with all due respect... what are you planning right now? Depending on your answer, your relationship with the Celestial Families could suffer."
The Director chuckled softly, the kind of sound that came from a man who'd long made peace with his choices. "You see, Riku... ever since Tōtsuki was founded, I've carried many regrets. But one regret... remains above all others."
Riku tilted his head. "And that is?"
The old man's eyes softened. "Failing to bring you into Tōtsuki."
The words landed like thunder. Even Gin, standing offstage, blinked in quiet surprise. The students collectively leaned forward, trying to process what they'd just heard.
Riku, silent for a long moment, gave a faint sigh. "That's what this is about..."
The Director nodded slowly. "Yes. When I first tasted your pastries, I realized something profound—that your talent was second to none, even among our best artisans. Akanegakubo's craftsmanship is remarkable, yes, but yours... surpassed it even then."
A collective gasp swept the audience. Momo, who had been standing still behind Riku, stiffened at those words. For a moment, her mask of calm cracked—the faintest frown flickered across her lips. She was known as Tōtsuki's top dessert specialist. To hear that a non-student might have already outdone her, years ago, cut deep.
Sanzaemon's gaze drifted toward the crowd. "When I tasted your creations, Riku, I saw the potential to change the culinary world. You had the power to shake its very foundations. That is why I offered you a seat among the Elite Ten."
The room broke into gasps again. The Director's tone deepened. "I even decided to grant you the Second Seat. And yet... you turned it down."
It was as if all oxygen had left the room. Forks clattered. A few students looked pale. To them, a seat in the Elite Ten wasn't just an honor—it was the peak of their dreams. Something they'd give everything to reach. And Riku... had refused it.
Erina and Alice stood frozen in front of the stage. Their voices, when they finally came, were almost whispers.
"He... turned it down?" Alice murmured, her eyes darting toward Riku. "Why?"
Erina's gaze lingered on him too, confusion flickering between awe and frustration. For the first time, even she had no answer.
Onstage, Riku exhaled softly through his nose. "You know my reasons, Sanzaemon-dono. I chose a different path—a stage, not a kitchen."
"I do," the Director said quietly. "But part of me still believes the world lost something when you walked away from this craft."
The hall fell silent again, filled only with the hum of lights and the distant waves outside. Every student, every teacher, even Gin himself, could feel the weight in the air. This wasn't just a Shokugeki—it was an old man's lament, and a test born of admiration and regret.
And at the center of it stood Riku, calm as ever, facing the culinary world he'd once rejected.
The hall had gone silent—too silent. Even the flicker of the lights seemed hesitant, as though the air itself feared what would come next.
Sanzaemon's voice broke through the quiet, firm and resonant. "And that is why... I have decided to host this Shokugeki. This is a battle that you cannot refuse."
Riku's eyes narrowed. "If I remember correctly, to make a Shokugeki official, something must be wagered, yes?"
"Exactly," Sanzaemon replied, his tone as sharp as the crack of thunder before a storm. "Here is my condition: should Akanegakubo win, you are to retire completely from the music world... and become a full-fledged member of Tōtsuki."
The room erupted in disbelief. Gasps filled the hall like a tidal wave crashing against a dam barely holding together.
"Riku retiring from music?!" someone whispered, unable to comprehend it.
Riku stood frozen at first, his expression unreadable—but then his eyes darkened. The fury brewing within him was quiet, almost dignified, but unmistakably real.
"Nakiri Sanzaemon..." he said slowly, his voice calm yet heavy with restrained anger, "...do you even understand what you're suggesting?"
At the back of the room, Rinko and the others exchanged uneasy glances.
"He's getting angry," Rinko murmured.
Ran crossed her arms tightly. "Saying someone's full name—that's the sign. He's really mad."
Chisato frowned, lowering her voice. "Should we step in? This could turn ugly fast."
"Not yet," Kokoro whispered, her gaze steady. "He's calm. For now."
Kaoru nodded slightly. "Let's just see where this goes."
The tension in the air was thick enough to taste.
Erina suddenly rose to her feet, voice cracking from emotion. "Ojii-sama! Are you out of your mind?!"
Alice slammed her hands against the table beside her. "You can't force Riku-nii-sama into this! Music is his whole life!"
"QUIET!" Sanzaemon's roar shook the room, silencing both girls instantly. The old man's tone carried no malice—only the weight of authority, of a man used to being obeyed. He turned back to Riku, who met his gaze without flinching.
Sanzaemon drew in a deep breath. "If you win... then the Celestial Families will have the final say in all matters at Tōtsuki. Effective immediately. Furthermore, any decision made by the Elite Ten will require approval from at least half of the Families to take effect."
The hall exploded again, this time in utter shock. Students looked at each other in disbelief, voices overlapping in waves of panic.
"If Akanegakubo-senpai wins, Riku's career is over," Takumi said under his breath, trying to piece it together.
Hisako's eyes widened. "And if he wins... the Celestial Families gain control of Tōtsuki itself."
Soma's head turned from one speaker to another. "What in the world is even happening right now?"
Erina looked pale, her voice trembling. "Ojii-sama... are you serious?"
"I am," Sanzaemon replied firmly, his tone final. "So, Riku. What will it be?"
Riku took a moment to breathe, the silence stretching long enough for every heartbeat in the room to echo. Then he lifted his gaze, eyes cold and focused. "You understand what will happen if I win, don't you? Once this Shokugeki begins, there's no going back. I won't hold back, not even for you."
Sanzaemon didn't hesitate. He merely nodded.
Riku's lips curved slightly—half acceptance, half warning. "Very well. I accept."
The hall's atmosphere cracked like glass under pressure. Sanzaemon stepped forward, voice booming without need of a microphone.
"Then by my authority as Director of Tōtsuki Academy, I declare this Shokugeki official! Akanegakubo Momo versus Nagae Riku!"
He raised his hand as though to seal the very air between them. "If Akanegakubo wins, Riku will retire from music completely and devote himself to the culinary world! But if Riku triumphs, the Celestial Families will hold final authority in all Tōtsuki affairs! I, Nakiri Sanzaemon, along with the surviving first-year students, will bear witness to this battle!"
The moment his words ended, the curtains behind the stage parted. Two baking stations emerged, gleaming under the spotlights—each equipped with the finest tools, mixers, ovens, and ingredients. The metallic hum of the equipment filled the hall like an overture before a duel.
Riku and Momo stepped to their respective stations. Though she was smaller in stature, Momo's expression was fierce, her eyes burning with the pride of an artisan. Riku, in contrast, radiated calm intensity—like a storm hidden behind glass.
"The theme of this Shokugeki," Sanzaemon announced, "is Animal Bread! You are to create an animal-shaped bread that showcases your creativity and precision. I will judge based not only on flavor but on design and soul. You have two hours. Are you both ready?"
Momo brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice icy. "I don't care who you are. I'll crush you all the same."
Riku looked up at her, the faintest ghost of a smile on his face. "Calamity will soon befall you, Akanegakubo Momo. I hope you've come prepared."
The words sent a ripple of unease through the room.
"What did he mean by that?" Megumi whispered.
But backstage, Rinko's expression changed—eyes widening as if a memory had been revived.
"Riku..." she breathed.
Kaoru turned to her. "What is it?"
"Those words..." Rinko said slowly.
Ran frowned. "What about them?"
Rinko looked toward the stage, her voice low. "The last time he said those words was at NFO... when he faced us, Roselia. He gave us no mercy. No leniency. He went all out, even though he'd promised us a handicap."
The others fell silent. The realization sank in like lead.
"So he's serious," Kokoro murmured.
"Dead serious," Rinko replied. "He's not just baking—he's fighting."
Back on stage, both chefs stood ready at their stations. The audience barely dared to breathe. Sanzaemon raised his arm high, eyes gleaming.
"Then let the Shokugeki..."
The room seemed to tighten, every sound vanishing, every gaze locked on the two challengers.
"...BEGIN!"
To be continued...