The familiar buzz of the small restaurant filled the air, the aroma of sizzling oils and spices dancing around the room. Regular customers sat at their tables, whispering excitedly among themselves. They had all come to eat, but more importantly, they had come for the show.
"Oh, they are at it again."
"Can Soma finally win this time?"
"But Akira is strong, he never loses."
"He is also really cute."
The regular customers clamored, eagerly anticipating the spectacle. Over time, they had grown accustomed to these heated matches between Soma and Akira. It wasn't just about food; it was about witnessing an ongoing rivalry.
For years, they had watched Soma grow up in this very kitchen. But two years ago, when Akira appeared out of nowhere and won the cooking competition between them, everything changed. Ever since then, Soma had taken it as a personal challenge to defeat Akira, issuing a challenge every time Akira visited.
Soma was always quick to challenge others, but Akira had a different reason for accepting these matches. He was curious about Soma, his journey, and the plot of his story. He had already intervened in Nakiri Erina's story, so it was only fair to interfere with Soma's as well.
Soma trained relentlessly, experimenting and refining his skills, determined to one day surpass Akira. But to Akira, cooking was just science. If someone understood how it worked and could replicate it flawlessly, they could create perfect dishes.
Because of this new rivalry, the legendary battles between Joichiro and Soma never truly happened. Instead of challenging his father, Soma became obsessed with surpassing Akira. Their battles became such a spectacle that even the customers started to see Akira as Soma's true rival, enjoying their fierce competitions.
The kitchen transformed into a battlefield. The clang of knives, the sizzle of hot oil, and the rhythmic chopping of ingredients echoed through the restaurant. Both Akira and Soma worked intensely on their dishes, Soma with fiery determination, pouring his heart into every movement, while Akira moved with effortless precision, like a scientist conducting an experiment.
As the match unfolded, their fathers stood to the side, observing. Ryuji, with his sharp white hair and piercing purple eyes, leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Joichiro, wearing his signature headband and apron, rubbed his chin with a grin.
"Your kid's scary good," Joichiro remarked. "Every time I see him cook, it's terrifying. It's like looking at a machine. He learns new things like it's nothing. I guess that's what a real genius looks like."
Ryuji chuckled. "He gets that from his mother. She's the smarter one."
Joichiro hesitated. "But doesn't it ever worry you? With how Akira Kun cooks?"
Ryuji raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Joichiro sighed. "It's like he treats cooking as a science project. He's a genius, but there's no passion. No connection. He cooks just for the sake of cooking."
Ryuji watched his son carefully. Akira's face was calm and focused, but there was a certain coldness in his actions. His hands moved methodically, solving a puzzle without hesitation. Ryuji already knew this about his son. Akira had always been distant, and he and his wife worried that his years of isolation had caused this.
"I know what you mean," Ryuji admitted. "Even in public, he won't talk unless spoken to. He learns things fast, but once he masters them, he gets bored and loses interest. Sometimes, even to us, he feels distant, like something invisible separates him from the rest of the world."
Joichiro placed a reassuring hand on Ryuji's shoulder. "Don't worry. He's still young. He's got all of you around, cheering for him. Maybe he just needs time, or someone to break through that wall he's built."
"Oh, look, they're done. Maybe today is the day Soma beats him," Joichiro smirked. "If Soma ever wins, I think Akira might actually show some real emotion."
"I'll believe it when I see it. Too bad my son is invincible," Ryuji laughed.
The match reached its climax, and both boys presented their fried rice to Joichiro for judgment. To the untrained eye, the dishes looked identical, but as a certain famous chef once said, the taste is what truly matters.
Joichiro tasted Soma's fried rice first, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor. Without a word, he then sampled Akira's dish. His expression remained unreadable.
After a moment, he took a deep breath and announced, "The winner is Akira."
The restaurant erupted into cheers.
"Seems like you need more training before you beat me, Soma," Akira said with a small smile. Defeat had never been a possibility for him.
"Yeah, yeah. It's my loss today, but I'll win next time!" Soma sulked, walking away.
"Say that after you actually beat me at least once," Akira teased before turning back to Joichiro. "So, how would you score my dish?"
Joichiro thought for a moment. "It's perfect. Almost nothing is wrong with it. I'd give it a nine out of ten."
"I don't get it, I am not sure how to perfect it more. You always give me nine. Why is that one point always missing?" Akira asked with righteous indignation.
"Hmm, if I have to say, for your El Burdigato Supreme you made two years ago, I would give it full marks," Joichiro said with a smile.
"Oh, that? wait, how did you even manage to taste it? You weren't even a judge at that time," Akira asked in surprise. He knew Joichiro was there that day, but he had no idea how he managed to get a taste.
Joichiro smirked. "You made a lot of them for some reason, so I managed to get some before they threw everything out. I was curious, you see."
Akira blinked. His mind went back to that moment. That was his first time cooking. The endless trials, the adjustments, the mistakes, the victories. Why did he cook back then? Was it for the Gundam model? Was it because he thought it would be fun participating in the cooking competition? And then it hit him.
"I wanted to make that grumpy girl say 'delicious'..." Akira muttered, realization dawning on him. Back then, when he decided on that dish, the thing he thought of most was how to make Nakiri Erina say "delicious." Not even Soma had done that until the end of the anime, so he wanted to make the impossible possible, to make her say it.
Joichiro burst into laughter, shaking his head. "You really went all out just to impress a grumpy girl, huh? That's hilarious." He smirked. "But that's exactly why it was a ten."
Akira tilted his head. "Just because I was cooking for someone else?"
Joichiro shook his head. "Not just that. When you cook with someone in mind, when you truly want them to enjoy it, your food will always be better than when you cook for yourself."
Akira stayed silent, deep in thought. He wondered how that would make his already perfect food better.
"Try it sometime. Find someone you really want to cook for," Joichiro chuckled.
"I'm not that interested in cooking anyway," Akira sighed. Cooking was just a hobby for him, after all.
"Maybe not. But if you ever do, keep my advice in mind," Joichiro laughed.
Akira glanced at the plate in front of him. "I'll keep it in mind," he murmured before his thoughts drifted. Cooking, huh? He was never one to stay interested in something for long. The only reason he always accepted Soma's challenges was because it seemed fun. The only things that ever held his attention were magic and anime.
"Still… why did that dish back then feel different? Is it because of the power of feelings or something like that? Well, this world has magic, so nothing is impossible," he mused, shaking the thought away. It wasn't important.
For now, he had an extremely important decision to make. whether to try to prevent the accident that would erase Haruna's memories. Time was already running out, so he had to make a choice soon.