The Moon Festival was over, but its echoes lingered in every corner of Tōtsuki.
The campus, once alive with color and sound, now felt subdued, the air tinged with the scent of extinguished lanterns and memories of laughter.
For Kaoru Yukishima, the days after the festival were a strange blend of triumph and uncertainty.
Polar Star Dormitory was abuzz with stories of their booth's success.
Soma recounted every detail, embellishing the tale with wild gestures, while Megumi blushed at the praise for her pickled daikon.
Kaoru watched from the sidelines, content to let the others bask in the spotlight.
Yet, beneath the surface, he felt the weight of every comment, every lingering glance from students who had tasted his food.
The reviews were mixed. Some called his dishes revolutionary, a bold fusion of tradition and innovation.
Others whispered that his flavors were too raw, too honest—food that demanded surrender rather than comfort.
Kaoru overheard a group of upperclassmen debating his blue cheese ramen, one declaring it genius, another shaking their head in disbelief.
The words stung, but he reminded himself that honesty in food was a risk he'd chosen to take.
One afternoon, as Kaoru cleaned up the fermentation chamber, Erina Nakiri appeared in the doorway.
She hesitated, her usual confidence softened by something more vulnerable. "You're hard to find when you want to be," she said, her voice quiet.
Kaoru glanced up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Sometimes it's easier to listen to the echoes than the applause."
She stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was comfortable, charged with unspoken questions.
Erina moved closer, her eyes searching his face. "Your food… it's not easy. It's not meant to be, is it?"
He shook his head. "I don't want to make food that's easy. I want to make food that's true. Even if it hurts."
Erina's gaze softened. "It does hurt. But it also… lingers. I can't stop thinking about it. About you."
Kaoru's heart skipped. He looked away, the old fear rising—of being seen, of being known. "Most people want comfort. I'm not sure I know how to give that."
She reached out, her hand hovering just above his. "Maybe you don't have to. Maybe it's enough to be honest."
Their fingers brushed, a spark passing between them. The moment stretched, fragile and electric.
Kaoru wanted to say more, to confess the storm inside him, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he squeezed her hand, a silent promise.
The spell broke as footsteps echoed in the hall. Erina pulled away, her cheeks flushed. "I should go. But… thank you. For sharing your truth."
Kaoru watched her leave, the warmth of her touch lingering. He felt exposed, but also seen in a way he had never known.
That evening, Soma found Kaoru on the dorm's rooftop, staring at the stars. Soma flopped down beside him, a lazy grin on his face. "You know, you really shook things up. Some people are still arguing about your ramen."
Kaoru shrugged. "Not everyone likes what I do."
Soma nudged him. "That's what makes it great. You're not here to please everyone. You're here to change things. And you did."
They sat in companionable silence, the rivalry between them now a thread of respect and challenge.
Soma glanced over, his eyes serious for once. "Next time, I want a real match. No festival crowds, no distractions. Just you and me."
Kaoru smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "You're on."
As the night deepened, Kaoru felt a sense of belonging he had never known.
Yet, when he closed his eyes, memories of his past crept in—shadows of underground kitchens, the sharp sting of failure, the cold eyes of his father. He wondered if he would ever be free of them.
But for now, he let himself rest, surrounded by friends, the taste of possibility lingering on his tongue.
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Please gimme your power stones tehee.
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