bittersweet *let my words reach you*

cooking again

I slowly closed my eyes imagining his happy smile. Not my brothers. Akira's. Smiling slightly I started my final dish.. I don't know at a the others are cooking nor do I care. I don't care what the rules are or if there are any.. I don't care what the topic is. I'm cooking what I want... when I want.

The light sauce drizzled on the pasta, the orange zest, the shrimp, the cubed tomatoes. Everything is ready.. I look over at Akira cooking across from me. He glances at me before resuming his cooking.. I know already that the won't place.. I wont.. it's not possible because I'm not as good as them. I don't have a skill, I don't have determonation. I just cook because that's all I have. Or used to only have.. " cook to make the kitchen happy. A kitchen with a chef in it is a happy kitchen. A kitchen worked hard is a happy kitchen. And I cook for my memory.. my memory if my only happiness as a child.

I slowly set my plate down in of the judges and set aside. Placing my middle finger on my chin, my pointer and rng fingers at the corners of my mouth, I brought my hand away from my face. 'Taste'
the judges nodded and took a bite with reluctant expressions on their face. A translator told wlme what they are saying.. " its sad. The lemon is there.. I taste it but the flavor is sorrowful.. it's as if tears are soaked into the pasta. The orange sweets the sauce but because it's zest it's a little bitter.. the shrimp seems to me cooked sepretly with red wine. Smoothing out the flavor and the sofrito. It blends the flavors together.. overall,it's a good dish.. but its not good enough . I'm sorry." Rylee Moldoya beat me that round.. but I smiled because the judges cried for me.. cried for my food. They understood a little piece of the pain I feel.

" HARU!!!"