「Aishiteru」Miya Osamu x Reader

(6) Miya vs Choi

Reader POV

"I've been waiting for this day to come for a long time," I smirked.

Osamu shook his head. "Seriously? The day after our brothers' wedding? You want to have a Shokugeki now??"

"Did I stutter?" I snapped.

He crossed his arms. "Fine. But what are the terms?"

I clutched my towel in my hands. "You acknowledge my cooking."

"What?! That's all you want??"

I nodded. "Yes. Until we hit the world stage at the Bocuse d'Or."

Osamu narrowed his eyes. "You'd really take it that far?"

I nodded. "That's all I want. What are your terms?"

"If I beat you in this Shokugeki, you'll let me take you on a date."

"Seriously? I thought you were going to-"

"Is there an issue?" He asked. "If there is, then I'd gladly add in something else."

I waved my hands in the air. "No, that's fine."

"Fine. We both have our strengths and weaknesses. We will prepare three things: a beverage, a light meal, and a light dessert. The theme will be Fall."

I nodded. "Deal. Be prepared, Miya Osamu. I won't go down without a fight."

"I didn't think so. But I warn you: I will not hold back."

"Good."

So it was decided that Wakatoshi, Rintarou, and Tsukishima Kei would be the judges as they were all in town and would be honest about the food eaten.

"So are we doing this at my house or yours?" Osamu asked.

"Probably mine since I don't trust you've been cleaning your kitchen properly," I said. "Don't worry, I'll have your tools of torture ready so you won't have to search for anything."

And at 1 PM, our threw judges walked into my house.

"This food better be good," Tsukishima grumbled.

"Agreed. I should be sleeping right now," Rintarou crossed his arms.

Osamu and I already had our ingredients and we explained the rules to the judges.

"Eh? Well then, you'll have two hours to get it ready. I'm hungry, so hop to it."

I had specifically designed the kitchen for a Shokugeki, knowing this would happen.

Two ovens, two sinks, and separate areas to work.

I put together a beautiful ensamble of food that I knew would be delicate and filling.

I had made light sandwiches, chai tea, and pumpkin-spiced cookies.

Meanwhile Osamu stuck to making his onigiri, a type of medicinal tea, and what looked to be small cakes.

The three judges looked at it with fascination as they lifted their forks and first ate my food then Osamu's.

"So?"

Tsukishima wrote down something on a slip of paper as the others did the same.

They passed the jar over to me and my jaw dropped.

1-2.

Osamu looked at it and smirked. "Looks like I get to take you on a date."

I banged my head against the countertops. "Oh god...why did I ever agree to this??"

Tsukishima asked me for the recipe of my cookies, saying he'd be more than glad to make them for his family, and introducing them to his boyfriend Yamaguchi Tadashi.

"They were surprisingly good," he said. "They definitely were worth all three points. I don't know what these other two simpleton fools were thinking."

Ushijima patted my back. "You did a good job."

"But it wasn't enough," I said as I walked Satori's boyfriend to his car. "God, all I ever wanted from
him was to acknowledge my cooking and baking skills. How is it after all this time that he is still better?!"

Osamu POV

I heard what (y/n) said.

All she ever wanted was for me to acknowledge her skills? Seriously?!

Rintarou slapped my back. "She's fiesty, that one. I'd be careful. You never know what the storm will bring."

I sighed. "I just wish she'd talk to me. Every time I talk to her, it just seems to drive us apart. I feel like she hates me deeply."

"That's bullshit," Rintarou grumbled. "If she really hated you, she wouldn't have gone through the time to do a Shokugeki with you, much less dance together last night at the wedding."

"I guess."

"Take it from me, Samu. Do whatever it takes to get your point across. If you don't, you might risk losing her. You know all those photos she took together with those elites in Paris?"

I nodded. "I hated every one of them."

"Exactly. If you don't let her know how you feel, she's going to slip away. And you don't want that, do you?"

"No. Absolutely fucking not," I growled. Then I sighed. "But I guess that I really just want to make her happy."

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Good. Now go show her a good time on your date. And I mean that in whichever way you chose to take it."

My face went a bit red at his last sentance. "Since when did you become a love expert?"

"I'm not. I'm just looking at this with a logical standpoint." He put on his coat and waved goodbye to (y/n) who called her farewell.

She came back inside to clean up when all three left, sighing in defeat.

"You alright?" I asked her.

"No," she snapped. "I'm still not good enough. I'm an award-winning chef and I just got defeated by some hometown chef. I've always been behind you. Just...why?! I've worked so hard."

I bit my lip. "Why do you want my acknowledgement?"

"Because your words you said that day hurt me," she snapped. "I've never forgotten what you said, and I never will. I just want you to admit you're wrong."

"That's because I haven't tasted your food that has emotions. It's just...boring like a desert," I said.

"Okay." She went back to her kitchen. "Help me clean up. You're washing, I'm putting it into the dishwasher."

We did so, not speaking.

I handed her each wet dish and utensil and she placed it into the dishwasher, turning it on.

"You want to stay over for a bit since it's starting to rain?" She offered. "I know you live right there, but it's raining hard already."

I looked outside the window and nodded. "Sure."

She tossed me a blanket and we headed to her living room, on opposite sides of the couch.

"So about our date-"

"Anytime works for me after 3 PM," she said.

I nodded. "Alright. Then I guess we can go to some festival or something."

I knew by the look on her face that she was thinking of the festival where I had first asked her out.

It was around this time nine years ago when it happened.

"...alright."

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Not me updating in the middle of a study hall-