Chapter 44 - Grocery Runs and Cursed Mascots

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(Name)'s POV

Only a few days until the festival, and our menu still wasn't finalized. I cooked alone in one of Shiomi R.S.'s cooking labs, my teammates nowhere to be seen. After their most recent fight, Alice had stormed off and dragged Kurokiba with her, and Hayama had retreated to one of the other rooms. I'd hoped that Alice and Hayama would learn to work with each other as the days passed, but there was a greater chance of Soma giving up his pursual of the First Seat than that happening anytime soon.

I myself was still learning to navigate around the male, who was especially irritable as of late. Part of Hayama's irritation stemmed from Jun's absence, I could tell, with how he constantly checked the phone for voicemails. And while I tried to act as a mediator, Hayama was often at the mercy of Alice's whims. The only other person I knew who was impulsive as Alice was Soma.

But I'd like to think Hayama was warming up to me—he tolerated my presence at the very least. And while it wasn't much of a feat, he clearly preferred me over the other two.

Why was it again? I snorted as I recalled the words Hayama used to describe me upon my joining the research society. Right, because I'm not "completely hopeless" or some jazz.

The oven beeped to signal it was finished preheating. I was revamping an older dish using ideas inspired from my fellow chefs at Polar Star, as well as the skills I'd acquired during my Stagiaire and my time at Shiomi R.S.

Maybe if it's edible we can serve it at the booth, I thought optimistically. But knowing Nakiri, it'll get scrapped in the end.

The door rattled open unceremoniously. I didn't have to look up to know it was Alice and her assistant, the former having gotten over her fit. I greeted them with a wave. "'Sup."

They walked up to the counter where Alice leaned with her arms propped against her chin. "Oh, are you cooking a new curry?" Her red eyes scanned the ingredients and pots scattered about. "I can't wait~"

I laughed wryly at her forwardness. "You mean you want some?"

She replied with a thumbs up. "Make it tasty!" I sweatdropped and returned to my cooking. At least I made enough.

The girl then abandoned her post at the counter to scrawl her most recent plans onto the whiteboard, babbling on about some sort of evaporating curry. Kurokiba sat backwards in one of the folding chairs, humming every few minutes to convey he was listening.

But he wasn't listening, I realized, as I felt his gaze linger on me and my cooking. He was watching me, like a predator stalking his prey.

I was fine with it, or I would've been had it not been for the way his eyes (also a deep crimson) flashed with intensity. He appeared aloof as usual, but the fire that flickered beneath the surface was evident. I sweated, a tad unnerved, but my cooking kept me distracted. I'd already postponed our (apparently inevitable) arm wrestle, but that didn't make him any less intense.

Hayama walked in a little later, also calmer after taking some time to himself. He sighed when he saw our teammates at it again and opted to approach me instead. "You're cooking?"

I wiped the sweat from my brow and nodded. "It'll be done any moment now. But keep in mind this was just an experiment—it's by no means a finished product."

He closed his eyes and sniffed. Not even a second passed before he began to list all of the spices I used to, in order of strength, to a T.

He really had to flex on our regular noses, huh?

I wasn't surprised, having seen his nose in action countless times before, but it didn't mean I was any less impressed. He sure was something else. "I was going to explain it, but it seems your nose already knows my secrets."

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