BiTTER (Shokugeki no Souma Fanfic)

27. Rivals and Friends.

AN: Haruno is an OC, of course, and so is Nakagawa-senpai. I just realized I needed to fill up a bit more of the general character roster... I couldn't find anymore characters I could stuff in the right age range, and I couldn't keep calling them all Mob Character #n forever.

Also, this story is basically me enjoying the 'I Live to Eat' lifestyle, so I finally realized I needed some more cultural appreciation here. Malaysian food in cooking anime WHEN? Fine I'll do it myself. 

I think I'll skip Winter break and head straight for the Moon Festival in the next chapter, to close the year. Time to introduce Hinako, Donato, and bring Sekimori back! The pacing might skip around more from now, because after all that setup, I plan to timeskip to Eda's HS 1st Year where the real trial and tribulations begin. 

-

"Ah— wait!"

Shinomiya snatched up Eda's shoulder.

"Make a batch of your sour cream."

Eda blinked in surprise at that. This bastard was so discomposed, but he could still think up solutions so quickly? He's no normal junior high schooler, and Eda's the one grimly thinking this.

Shinomiya's eyes were strained,his lips chewed down immediately after he gets the words out. Ah, the burn must hurt. And he's still thinking up solutions? Madman, utter madman.

Eda watched as Shinomiya was indignantly escorted right back out the door.

Alright, think. Something savoury— it's completely out of his comfort zone, but he had no choice. He had to improvise this appetiser, but he couldn't half-ass this.

He needed to keep in mind the extensive prep for Shinomiya's dish, too. He had to get all the long things ready first, so Shinomiya could get right into it. Keep track of his own dish and Shinomiya's at the same time—

(He thinks of a kitchen with dozens of ovens, batches upon batches of pastries being cooked up in a single morning.)

(And he smiles.)

"Yeah, that'll be a piece of cake for me."

There's no one with better focus in the kitchen than him.

-

"Well... holy shit," someone whispered.

"He's boiling potatoes on one side, tenderizing meat now, and did he just put that dough at the side? He's doing everything halfway."

"No, he's not doing them halfway..."

Eda covered the marinade just in time to wipe his hands on his apron and turn around. The oven beeped the moment before he reached the mittens, and he took out the dried tomatoes before setting them on the table. He immediately set down the garlic, shoving it right into the oven and closing it for another round.

Then, he moved onto the dough, peeling them off into equal size on the tray. He stuffed them with herbs and worked so quickly, only glancing briefly to the side to turn down the heat on the potatoes before they boiled over.

And then, when the oven beeped once more, he systematically removed the garlic and replaced it with the tray of bread.

"...he knows exactly what he's doing."

He moved, so robotically, it was impossible to deny that he knew every detail of what he was doing, down to the second. His hyperfocused gaze never left his kitchen space. His steps were minimal, his movements efficient. He didn't pause even to take a breath or recalibrate his process.