BiTTER (Shokugeki no Souma Fanfic)

8. Mistake and Mistakes

"This is only our first class, so I won't mark it down," the teacher warned with a stern voice, "but those that failed today's dish, be warned that the days ahead will be much harder than this."

Tootsuki Culinary Academy was very well known for a few things.

The very low percentage of graduates, for example, but that was mainly in the High School Division.

In the Middle School division, if you had a reputation, enough cash, or some degree of skill, you can survive all three years without trouble. There were really low chances of failing enough grades to get expelled in the Middle School Division. Everything was relatively easy until the Entrance Exams for High School.

(Everything was relatively easy.)

Fumi stared at the glaring red E on his grade, and couldn't help but sigh.

-

His first day was, in a nutshell, an absolute disaster.

His nerves got the best of him, his classmates were clumsy assholes, and everyone seemed to have something to say about some no-name from some no-name bakery in no-name shopping district in some no-name town.

(Damn those elitists.)

Okay, maybe he shouldn't have burned that pot of miso soup. Maybe he couldn't tell the difference between those two eggs when the teacher was teaching them about the difference in peppers. Those were all basic mistakes.

"I really can't tell anyone, huh," he sighed. Hiding something as important as 'I don't have a sense of smell and taste' in a culinary academy was almost a crime, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. He wouldn't even be able to get into this school if anyone knew.

Running a hand through his hair, he's distinctly reminded that he's not at home.

Seeing ash blond locks on his head made him homesick. His hair just reminded himself of Tamako, and that was hurting him. He wanted a hug, but no, he's not a baby anymore, he can't act like a spoilt brat.

He headed to his next class, biting back a sigh.

He just needed to be careful. He just needed to be careful, and do everything as if he were at home-- normally. There was no way he could fail all these basic dishes. He's made them at home before and he's made even more of them back at his old life.

She was a professional at this. This should be easy, with her memories.

It should be.

-

"The basic of the basics: any chef that wears cologne is not to be trusted."

Half the room shot back in surprise, and Fumi's hand tightened against the counter. He bit his bottom lip, because the teacher was glaring down at the class, evidently displeased with what he was witnessing.

The boy beside him snorted, and Fumi only felt so much more uncomfortable.

"I will let it slide, as it is the first day for all of you, but anyone who continues to do so for the next week will receive strikes of violation," the teacher warned, "we will not be cooking today. All of you need a basic rundown of what a chef is."