"Well, let's get you into my kitchen then," Hiroko-sensei said, a genuine, amused smile on her face. "I'm not exactly a five-star chef myself, so anything you make will probably be an improvement."
Haruya laughed, feeling completely at ease. He loved a good challenge, and this was one he was more than happy to accept. "Of course. It would be my honor."
Tsumugi, who had been standing silently for a while, seemed to snap out of her daze. "Oh, can I help, too, onii-chan?"
Haruya grinned. "You can be my sous chef. You have to chop the vegetables for me, Tsumugi."
Tsumugi's face lit up.
Just like Haruya assisted her in her ways of the piano, she loved helping Haruya cook.
Koharu, still clutching Tsumugi's hand, watched the interaction with her big, curious eyes, a faint blush on her cheeks.
She was still shy around Haruya, but her curiosity was clearly winning out over her shyness.
They all walked out of the music room and into the rest of the house.
The kitchen was just as modern and well-organized as the rest of the home.
It had sleek, black countertops and stainless steel appliances that gleamed under the warm light.
There was a large island in the center, perfect for preparing meals.
It wasn't the huge, professional kitchen he was used to at his home, but it was spacious and clean.
It was a stage to showcase his ability.
"So, what do you need?" Hiroko-sensei asked, opening the large, double-door refrigerator.
Haruya took a quick look inside.
The refrigerator was neat and tidy, with a few basic ingredients: eggs, a couple of bell peppers, a head of broccoli, some carrots, and a small container of leftover grilled chicken.
There were also some basics in the pantry like rice, flour, and a variety of sauces.
"Hmm," Haruya said, thinking for a moment.
He could work with this.
He wasn't one to be limited by a lack of ingredients. "I can make a simple but delicious meal with what you have. How about a chicken and vegetable stir-fry with a side of fried rice?"
Hiroko-sensei chuckled. "That's a lot more than I was expecting. I was thinking maybe you could just scramble some eggs. But sure, go for it." She leaned against the counter, ready to watch the show.
Tsumugi quickly grabbed the cutting board and a knife from a nearby block. "I'm ready, onii-chan! What do you want me to cut?"
Haruya smiled. "You can start with the bell peppers. Just chop them into small, bite-sized cubes."
As Tsumugi started chopping the peppers, a little awkwardly at first, Haruya moved with precise grace.
He washed his hands, tied a simple apron around his waist, and began his routine. He took out the leftover grilled chicken and, with a few quick, precise motions, began to shred it with his hands.
His movements were fluid and efficient, each one serving a purpose.
He took out a carrot and began to peel it.
He didn't use a peeler; instead, he used a small paring knife, the blade moving so quickly and so smoothly that the peel came off in one long, continuous ribbon.
Hiroko-sensei's eyes widened slightly at the sight.
It was just a small thing, but it was done with a level of skill that she didn't expect from a boy who had just played a Chopin piece.
"Wow, onii-chan," Tsumugi said, her eyes fixed on his hands. "You're so fast. Your hands are like... ninja hands!"
Haruya chuckled. "It's all about practice and muscle memory. The more you do it, the more your hands just know what to do without you having to think about it."
He then took a head of broccoli and started to chop it.
The knife moved up and down with a rhythmic precision, creating perfectly uniform florets.
He didn't rush, but his movements were so deliberate and graceful that it felt like he was in his own world, a world of perfect rhythm and tempo.
It reminded Hiroko of his piano playing, the way his fingers had moved across the keys.
It was the same kind of effortless perfection, the same kind of deep, intuitive understanding.
"Just like a piece of music," Haruya said, as if reading her mind. "Every movement has to be precise. If you chop too fast, you might injure yourself. If you chop too slowly, you might waste time. You have to find that perfect rhythm. The tempo has to be just right."
He put the broccoli in a bowl and gave Tsumugi a gentle nudge. "Your turn. Try to make your peppers look like this."
Tsumugi tried to mimic his movements, but her chopping was still a little awkward and clumsy.
Haruya, however, was patient. He would gently correct her hand placement, show her how to hold the knife properly, and encourage her with a kind smile.
Koharu, still standing by Tsumugi, watched with big eyes, fascinated by the whole process.
While Tsumugi was still working on the peppers, Haruya took out a frying pan and put it on the stove.
He added a little oil and let it heat up. He then took out the leftover rice and, with a quick flick of his wrist, tossed it into the pan.
The rice sizzled as it hit the hot oil, and Haruya began to stir-fry it; his movements with the spatula were like a graceful dance. The smell of the rice filled the kitchen, a warm, comforting aroma.
"The key to good fried rice is to get every grain to be a little crispy," he explained, his eyes focused on the pan. "You can't just throw it all in and expect it to work. It's about heat and timing. You have to have the right rhythm."
He then added a little soy sauce, a dash of salt, and a hint of white pepper, his hands moving with perfect intuition. He didn't measure anything, but it was clear he knew exactly how much to add.
He then moved the fried rice to a bowl, and the wok was empty again. He looked at Tsumugi's peppers.
They were still a little lumpy and uneven, but he smiled. "They're perfect. Now, let's get the rest of the ingredients."
He added a little more oil to the hot wok and tossed in the shredded chicken.
The chicken sizzled, and he stirred it quickly before adding the chopped carrots, broccoli, and finally, Tsumugi's peppers. The vibrant colors of the vegetables against the dark wok were beautiful.
He then added his own special stir-fry sauce, which he made with a combination of soy sauce, oyster sauce, sugar, and a little bit of garlic and ginger.
The aromas that came off the wok were incredible.
The smell of the garlic and ginger, the rich, savory smell of the soy sauce, and the fresh, earthy smell of the vegetables all blended together in a symphony of scents.
It was a beautiful, complex aroma that made everyone's mouths water.
As he was cooking, Koharu, who had been quiet the whole time, suddenly spoke up. "Tsumugi-nee," she said in a quiet voice. "It smells so good."
Tsumugi smiled. "I know, right? Onii-chan's cooking is the best."
Haruya grinned at the compliment and finished his dish. He plated the stir-fry elegantly, making sure the colors of the vegetables were a beautiful contrast to the dark chicken.
He then placed the fried rice in a separate bowl and set the whole thing on the table.
"Itadakimasu," Haruya said, sitting down at the table.
Hiroko, Tsumugi, and Koharu all sat down as well.
Hiroko took a small bite of the fried rice first. Her eyes widened.
The rice was perfectly cooked, each grain separate and fluffy, with a slight crispiness from the pan. The flavor was a beautiful mix of savory and sweet, with a delicate hint of garlic.
It was simple, but it was perfect.
She then took a bite of the stir-fry.
The chicken was tender and juicy, and the vegetables were cooked just right.
They were still crunchy, not soggy or limp. The sauce was a masterpiece, a beautiful mix of flavors that danced on her tongue.
The sweetness of the bell peppers, the earthy taste of the broccoli, and the savory sauce all came together in a beautiful, harmonious blend.
She was speechless.
This was not a simple, home-cooked meal.
This was a work of art.
Koharu, who had been devouring her food, looked up and said with a mouthful of rice, "Tsumugi-nee, Haruya onii-chan is really good."
Tsumugi laughed. "I know. He's a hundred times better than me."
"He's better than Mommy, too!" Koharu said, her voice filled with a sense of wonder.
Hiroko-sensei, who was just about to take another bite of the stir-fry, paused and looked at her daughter.
She gave her a gentle, loving knock on the head. "Hey now, that's not a fair comparison. I'm a pianist, not a chef." But her eyes were twinkling with amusement.
As they continued to eat, Hiroko's mind was racing.
It was one thing to hear about a child prodigy in one field, but in two?
A boy of his age who was an absolute master of both?
This was almost something out of a fairy tale.
A boy who could sit at a piano and play a piece of music with a grace and elegance that was beyond his years, and then, with the same hands, step into a kitchen and create a dish that was a symphony of flavors and textures.
It was almost supernatural.
She looked at Haruya, who was eating his own meal with a satisfied smile. He was a mystery, a puzzle she couldn't solve.
She wanted to understand how this boy could be so talented. She wanted to understand what made him so special.
Haruya, feeling her gaze, looked up. "Is everything alright, Hiroko-sensei?" he asked, a little concerned.
Hiroko just smiled. "Everything's perfect, Haruya-kun. Absolutely perfect." She took another bite of the stir-fry, a single, clear thought in her mind.
Haruya Sumeragi was more than a prodigy.
He was a gift.
And she was going to be the one to guide him.
...
A/N: Ngl, this book's stats have been going downhill for a week now, I think we might be cooked fr. Maybe I'll start on that side story now.