"Totsuki..."
After wiping his mouth, Sato set the napkin on the table.
"I've heard that Totsuki is the absolute ruler of Japan's culinary world. Uncle Yukihira, you must be pretty extraordinary yourself, right?"
Yukihira Jōichirō smiled.
"What's so extraordinary about me? No matter how you look at it, I'm just a cook. Compared to certain people, there's really nothing worth talking about. Don't you think so, Nohara?"
The two exchanged glances and smiled knowingly.
Sato felt thoroughly satisfied with the meal. It was as if the springiness of the ramen noodles was still dancing across his tongue, along with the rich aroma of the tonkotsu broth.
"Speaking of which, Uncle Yukihira, you graduated from Totsuki too, right?"
"Yeah, that's right."
Yukihira Jōichirō nodded with a hint of nostalgia in his eyes, as though reminiscing about the passionate days of his youth.
As for what exactly he had experienced back then, Sato had no idea.
After finishing the ramen, not only was his stomach full, but he also felt refreshed. Even though it was already past midnight, he was still full of energy.
"Then you must have been the First Seat of the Elite Ten back then, right?"
"That..."
Yukihira Jōichirō shook his head.
"No."
Sato hadn't expected that answer. Looking at him in surprise, he asked,
"You weren't?"
"Is that so strange? There are never any shortages of geniuses in this world."
Yukihira Jōichirō grinned.
There was something layered behind that smile, though. Whether he truly meant what he said was something worth pondering.
Sato continued,
"Among the Elite Ten I've met, your cooking is the best."
"Oh? From the sound of it, you've met quite a few?"
Yukihira Jōichirō asked with interest.
The Elite Ten sounded like a large group, but in reality, there were fewer of them than people imagined. Not every Elite Ten seat was occupied by upperclassmen. Many students only held the title briefly. Those who graduated without holding an Elite Ten seat couldn't truly be counted among them.
In the end, only around four or five Elite Ten members graduated each year. Most of the titles were constantly changing hands.
Totsuki had existed for decades, so altogether it had produced fewer than two hundred Elite Ten graduates.
That might sound like a lot, but many of them were scattered across the world. Others stayed behind to teach at Totsuki. Of the remainder, fewer than a hundred were spread throughout Japan.
For chefs, that was actually a very small number.
"I have met a few. Actually, one of them lives pretty close to your place. I wonder if you've met her."
"Oh? Who?"
"Takanashi Tōka."
Recognition quickly appeared on Yukihira Jōichirō's face. It seemed he was quite familiar with the Elite Ten from previous generations.
"I know her. She's a talented young chef specializing in French cuisine. I heard Chef Chapelle, who oversees the French Cuisine Department, thought highly of her and even accepted her as his apprentice."
"You said she lives nearby? Where?"
"On the floor above my apartment."
Yukihira Jōichirō estimated the distance and replied with a rather strange expression,
"That's definitely close."
Even so, the two of them had never crossed paths.
As a chef, Takanashi Tōka naturally wouldn't eat at small restaurants outside. She almost always cooked for herself at home.
Sato smiled, then glanced at the time on his phone.
Getting to his feet, he said,
"It's getting late, so I'll head back. Here's the payment for today's meal."
Yukihira Jōichirō looked at it without saying anything, then smiled.
"Come again."
...
Now that they were second-year students, everything seemed much the same.
The only difference was that compared to the awkwardness of their first year, everyone had gradually grown accustomed to high school life.
"Sato!"
The moment Sato entered the classroom, he noticed Kirigaya Kazuto looking at him nervously. After a brief glance, he quickly sat back down, looking as though he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to.
Sato asked in confusion,
"What's wrong with you?"
Gulp.
Kirigaya Kazuto appeared to swallow hard. His eyes looked at Sato like someone drowning and grasping for salvation. His expression was full of conflict, as though something weighed heavily on his mind, yet he couldn't decide whether to speak.
"I-It's nothing!"
In the end, Kirigaya Kazuto let out a defeated sigh, slumped over his desk, and stared out at the cherry blossoms outside the window.
The blossoms had already begun to fall, painting the ground pink.
Sato exchanged a look with Kusuo Saiki, who was seated in front of him, raising an eyebrow.
"He awakened, didn't he?"
"Probably."
"Should we tell him?"
"Up to you."
Hearing Saiki Kusuo's answer, Sato twitched the corner of his mouth.
He suddenly felt Saiki would be better off becoming a monk. With such detached composure, it would be a waste if he didn't devote himself to Buddhist practice.
Just then, while absentmindedly lowering his head, Sato noticed a pair of smooth, slender legs appear before him. His gaze traveled upward, past the knees, to about a fist's width above them, where a plaid pleated skirt, the standard uniform for girls at the private high school, came into view.
So this is what a JK looks like.
The thought suddenly crossed his mind. No wonder so many girls liked wearing these little skirts.
"Isshiki Iroha, do you need something?"
He looked up at the girl standing before him. Only then did he notice Nishimiya Shouko standing behind her.
"Sato, let's be partners for this weekend's practical assignment."
"Hm? Didn't you say the teacher was assigning groups randomly?"
"Hehe."
Isshiki Iroha gave a smug little hum, a trace of pride appearing on her face as she glanced at him.
"I'm on very good terms with the teacher."
"Ugh."
Sato looked at her with disdain.
"So you're using connections?"
Isshiki Iroha immediately glared at him.
"This is called making proper use of the resources around you!"
"I'm not interested."
"Why not?"
"No particular reason."
"Shouko's going to be with us too."
Isshiki Iroha pulled Nishimiya Shouko in front of her.
Looking up, Sato met Shouko's slightly shy yet hopeful gaze. Behind her stood Isshiki Iroha, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
Sato: "..."
He slowly looked away, doing his best not to meet Shouko's eyes.
"This has nothing to do with Shouko."
"Look, you've made Shouko sad."
Isshiki Iroha's gentle voice suddenly whispered beside his ear. The warm breath brushing into it made his whole body tingle.
Sato couldn't help shivering. Turning back, he saw Shouko pursing her lips, her watery eyes fixed on him.
"You win."
He had to admit, he couldn't resist that look.
"Hehe!"