While Eriri was busy gossiping, flaunting her "Commander Bubbles," and laughing like a goofball.
Kyousuke was already in the kitchen, carefully scaling and gutting the red sea bream.
That idiot had been all excited earlier, saying she wanted to see a real fish dissection, but in truth, she couldn't handle anything even remotely bloody.
Well, that's just how she is—loves to play, but easily scared.
Even without its glimring pink-and-gold scales, the sea bream's skin still looked soft and rosy.
Most households and restaurants in Japan use plastic cutting boards—not because they're premium, but because they're easy to clean and look good when plating dishes.
But Kyousuke preferred solid wood cutting boards.
Sure, his knife skills were good enough that he never nicked the board, but still—he liked the feel of wood better.
After all, biting into wood chips and biting into plastic are two very different experiences.
Though… if it's wood chips, you might not even notice.
"Finally, it's ti! The legendary culinary showdown at the shrine begins now! This ti, from the mythical land of Ruyi Dormitory."
"It's the master with the hands and tongue of a god—Kyousuke! What will he do with this fish, the very symbol of spring?"
"Everyone, my heart is blazing with excitent—just like the boiling hot pot behind !"
'Crunch crunch…'
Hearing the strange comntary, Yukinoshita turned her head.
To her right was Yamauchi Sakura, who had suddenly transford into a sports comntator, chomping dramatically on a cucumber.
After thinking about it for a second, she realized the cucumber was probably supposed to be a microphone.
But didn't you just say Hojou was the embodint of spring? And now you're saying the sea bream represents spring?
So basically, whatever Sakura says goes, huh?
And what was that? "Culinary duel at the shrine"?
"What kind of showdown is it if there's only one person?" Eriri muttered in disbelief.
"It's a battle between the two clashing philosophies in Hojou's heart, obviously," Kasumigaoka replied, gently dropping a few atballs into the white broth.
"I see, that works too," Eriri nodded approvingly.
This kind of theatrical performance had beco second nature to them.
Whenever a scene like this arose, they'd all slip into their roles without even thinking.
Everyone pitched in as editors or narrators, filling in background or sound effects. And the only actor on stage—Hojou Kyousuke.
Well, maybe also the fish in his hands. The knife? A supporting role.
Yukinoshita glanced at Kasumigaoka Utaha across the table, slightly surprised.
The red-eyed girl who usually butted heads with her had taken on a much softer presence.
The way she looked at Hojou… was the sa as Sakura.
It was like a rose blooming from a thorny vine.
Oh. So this... is spring.
When spring cos, even soone as sharp and proud as Kasumigaoka Utaha lowers her defenses, blooming gracefully like a cherry blossom in the breeze, fully revealing her beauty.
"Kyousuke's love doesn't get divided—it multiplies."
Watching the expressions on the girls' faces, Yukinoshita Yukino suddenly thought of this line. And, for a brief mont, she actually felt it made a little sense.
…What nonsense.
Only soone completely delusional would believe that.
She had to stay strong.
She couldn't let Yamauchi Sakura's idiocy infect her.
And wait a second—didn't Hojou already say earlier they'd be using the sea bream for hot pot? Why's Sakura asking what he's going to do with it now?
Just trying to sound more dramatic for her fake comntary?
...Actually, knowing her, that's probably exactly it.
Kyousuke, holding a wide-bladed deba knife, had already started cutting into the fish.
But when he heard Sakura's excited comntary, he paused mid-slice and looked up.
"Sakura, do you want sashimi instead?"
"Yup yup~~ the kind that's laid out on a mountain of crushed ice!"
Her bright golden eyes sparkled as she nodded enthusiastically, casually stealing a chicken atball from Kasumigaoka's plate with her fork.
"Yes, yes! I want the flaming ice-sea bream mountain too!" Eriri chid in, snatching a shrimp ball for herself and popping it into her mouth.
"Then I'll go for sushi~" Kasumigaoka added, putting the last atball in her mouth like she was ordering from a nu.
"…" Yukinoshita Yukino had no words.
If you wanted sashimi, couldn't you just say so? And how the hell did Hojou instantly understand what Sakura ant from that vague nonsense?
Do you really need to show off your synchronized chemistry in front of everyone?
Sakura's expression blood like a cherry blossom, and Yukino's chest tightened.
But what shocked her more was how no one else even reacted—everyone just accepted their absurd exchange like it was perfectly normal.
Hojou had no pride as a chef!
Why couldn't he be like those elite restaurants that stuck to their nu?
If you said this fish was for hot pot, then stick with that plan! He's just going to spoil them all!
She sighed and redirected her frustration toward a certain soone.
Ultimately, it was all his fault things turned out like this.
"Alright, alright. Anyone else want sothing specific?" Kyousuke asked, smiling warmly.
He always gave in so easily, as long as it made people happy.
"What about you, Yukinoshita?"
"Anything's fine," she replied coolly.
Not being picky was a virtue, after all. Even when eating, she was just that cute.
"Right, right! Yukino-chan is like a kitty—she loves all kinds of fish!" Sakura chirped, raising her chopsticks dramatically, half a chicken atball still dangling from them.
"I don't eat octopus." Yukino knew cats like that—ones who pawed at everything they saw, only to freak out and run the mont sothing clung to them.
"Got it, got it. How about you, Katou-senpai? Want anything? Fish porridge? Tempura?"
'Eh?! Ehhhh!?'
'How many tis has this happened now? Even in a mont like this, Hojou still rembered ?!'
Katou gumi's mouth hung slightly open, her dark eyes wide with shock.
And she wasn't the only one.
Eriri, startled by the sudden attention, even flinched and bumped into Kasumigaoka.
She had appeared again—like a 3D background character in an ani suddenly becoming a fully colored main heroine.
Katou gumi.
Yukinoshita felt a rare sense of satisfaction—finally, she had rembered this girl's na.
With everyone's eyes on her, Katou felt a little nervous, but she calmly picked up a napkin and dabbed at the oil on her lips.
"Umm~~" The girl opened her mouth slowly.
According to the persona she had set for herself—the one she'd been following all along.
She should now shake her head calmly and say she didn't want anything in particular.
Sothing plain, just like her.
"Katou-senpai, want anything? Fish porridge? Tempura?"
That one sentence hit her heart like a cannonball.
It was a feeling she had never experienced before—being seen.
Being cared for.
In that one instant, it filled the quiet, aching space inside her heart.
Warm and fulfilling.
Sothing she never knew she needed—until now.
Back at ho, conversations usually went sothing like this:
"gumi-chan, is the saltiness okay?" Her mother would scoop up a piece of twice-cooked pork with a small plate, still busy at the stove.
"Mmm, it's delicious~" Katou gumi would answer naturally.
Of course, Mom's cooking was always the best.
"Oh really? I thought it might be a little too much."
"It's slightly saltier than usual, but still within an acceptable range~~" Picking apart the food wasn't sothing gumi ever did.
"I see… no, that won't do. I'll remake it. Your dad won't like it this way. If you're hungry, go ahead and have a snack first."
That was just the kind of woman her mother was—graceful and conscientious.
In fact, all the won in the Kato family were like that, whether born into it or married in.
"It's okay~~ Take your ti, Mom~"
Even if gumi said it was delicious, her mother always used her father's taste as the true benchmark.
It wasn't that her mother didn't love her—gumi simply never asserted her own opinions strongly, and so naturally, they were often overlooked.
But now—
"What about you, Katou-senpai? Is there anything you'd like to eat? Fish porridge, tempura, anything is fine."
'Whoa~~~ Hojou-kun actually asked that directly~~'
The first ti she could rember soone caring about her like this was after her older sister got married.
When she went to visit her sister's new ho, whether at the supermarket or before dinner, her sister would always ask what she wanted first.
gumi knew—her sister, now apart from the Kato household, was trying to encourage her in her own quiet way.
Then ca Hojou Kyousuke, riding through the night just to bring her a book.
And now, again—although she knew he treated everyone with the sa kindness—this sense of being valued still felt completely real.
So should she respond the sa way she always had—calm, subdued, quietly going with the flow?
No!
"…Could you make a rice bowl using the at scraped from the fish bones?"
Her light, gentle tone took on a bit of seriousness.
And when she said "for ", she felt her heart flutter with nerves, her pale cheeks subtly flushing pink.
But surely no one would notice…
This little joy, unnoticed by others, felt like her own private treasure.
It was a rare mont where her faint presence beca a source of comfort—letting her indulge in daydreams, knowing no one would ever see through her expression.
"A rice bowl? Sure. I'll let you try my special sauce."
Hearing her request, Kyousuke noticed a subtle shift in her mood.
Still, he didn't think too hard about it—just smiled and nodded.
"Nice—never pegged you as soone who could really eat. I thought only tuna worked for rice bowls," Eriri said loudly, laughing like nothing had startled her monts ago.
Her mouth practically watered at the thought of Kato's request.
Since it was already claid, she'd just have to ask her dad to bring ho another red snapper tomorrow.
"Ah~ Actually, I only just thought of it now. If you want so too, Eriri, we can share later~~" Kato smiled.
"Really!? Ahem—I an, not that I'm craving it or anything. I'll just help you taste it. You know, in case Kyousuke sses it up or sothing." Eriri's eyes sparkled, but she quickly masked her enthusiasm.
]No way was she going to lose face in front of their new friend.
"Mmm~" gumi nodded with a serene expression.
"Try this beef atball—Kyousuke hand-shaped it himself. And if you like spicy food—or even if you don't—you have to try his marinated mala beef slices."
"They're unbelievably good! Everything on this table is made by Hojou. No way any of it could taste bad!"
Having just retrieved their new friend from a strange world, Eriri was now radiating pure energy and passion.
"Wait a sec, Eriri—you just said it might not taste good. Did you try everything already?" Katou tilted her head slightly, her tone mild.
"Kyousuke's cooking bad? As if I'd ever—" Eriri instinctively snapped back, then imdiately turned her head and coughed.
"Of course I tried it. I wouldn't recomnd it otherwise! Now hurry up and eat. You're way too skinny!"
"Wah~ That's the first ti anyone's called skinny~ Thanks, Eriri~" Katou closed her eyes and gave a gentle smile.
"..."
Even with her contact lenses in, Eriri glared sharply at Kato for two seconds, then asked suspiciously:
"Katou, you don't seem like the type to crack jokes, but… was that just now supposed to be a sarcastic jab?"
"Huh? A jab?" Kato tilted her head again, completely puzzled.
"Never mind! Just eat already!"
Eriri shook her head.
'What am I even thinking?'
If Kato really had a knack for snark, her presence wouldn't be this faint in the first place.
"Mmm~" Kyousuke glanced over at Shouko and Naoka.
He had already prepared dishes with their favorite foods, and both girls acknowledged him with their eyes.
As he scanned the room and saw everyone looking his way, he gave a soft smile, then looked down at the knife in his hand—a razor-sharp deba knife.
Engraved on its polished silver blade were the characters "Yuki Saku"—the knife maker's na. Next to it, in smaller print, was "custom-made."
Unlike other makers who labeled the materials on the blade, this knife bore a mark of brand confidence, not just the materials used.
The fish skin had already been cut.
He found the natural grain of the at and sliced along it.
The blade glided through with zero resistance—not because he was wielding so mythical tool, but because his control over pressure and knowledge of ingredients had reached a near-divine level.
"It's here—the God Hand! Able to instantly understand any ingredient and perfectly infuse it with his culinary philosophy!"
Sakura, the host, popped back into comntator mode, her plate already piled high with beef.
Naoka, Eriri, and the others mirrored her pose—one hand holding a plate full of food, the other holding chopsticks.
But all had turned their full attention to Hojou Kyousuke. Even Kato gumi, with her naturally ambient presence, wasn't an exception.
Only Yukinoshita Yukino stood apart.
As everyone else began to eat, she looked slightly bewildered.
Weren't they supposed to wait for Hojou before starting? Wasn't that just basic etiquette?
Yukino felt like she had accidentally wandered into a gourt restaurant—watching the chef work while savoring a course al.
And the chef—while not wearing a tall hat—was undeniably handso.
Handso enough that even finding a stray hair in her food would feel like a lucky charm.
His movents were sharp and precise, with a graceful rhythm.
Not too fast, not too slow—just right.
The silver blade gently sliced through the fish like a hot knife through butter.
He placed the paper-thin slices on a dark blue plate etched with icy crack patterns—and the fish vanished instantly.
Yukino knew—it hadn't actually disappeared.
It was just sliced so thin it had beco transparent.
The mont it touched sauce, its original form would reappear.
Still, would she even be able to find it on the plate?
No—more importantly, what would it taste like?
That special sauce Hojou ntioned…
Wait—why was she drooling now? This wasn't what she set out to think about at all!
The girl quickly shook her head, forcing herself to tear her gaze away from Hojou.
She glanced at the others and saw that they, too, were just like her— chanically chewing their food while staring intently at Hojou, as if he were the main dish.
"Nishimiya-san," she called out softly.
But the girl sitting right next to her, Nishimiya Shouko, didn't react at all.
"Nishimiya-san—" she tried again, raising her voice slightly and giving Shouko's sleeve a gentle tug.
"Oh, what's up, Yukinoshita-san?" Shouko snapped out of her daze and quickly swallowed the delicious, juicy beef in her mouth.
'Kyousuke-kun looks so cool slicing that fish… I want a bite… gurgle~'
"Aren't we supposed to wait for Hojou to join us before we start eating?" Yukinoshita asked.
Even if the others were too easygoing to care, she was sure soone as kind as Nishimiya would notice.
But why was even Shouko eating so happily?
"Oh, you were worried about that?" Shouko giggled sweetly. "Yukino-chan, you're just as kind as everyone says."
"Hmph, I'm not… Well, okay, maybe I am a little cute," Yukinoshita admitted, softening her tone when she saw Shouko's adorable smile. "But please don't call 'Yukino-chan.' Just Yukino is fine."
It was the first ti anyone besides Yamauchi Sakura had used that nickna for her.
Yukinoshita was montarily speechless but gave in to Shouko's bright expression.
"Anyway, it's not like I'm worried about Hojou himself," she said, turning her gaze back to the table. "It's just that since he's the one preparing the food, it would feel rude to start without him."
That was it.
There was no way she'd be worried about that guy.
She wasn't as crazy as Yamauchi Sakura, who acted like she'd lost her mind around him.
Sure, she'd heard that Hojou Kyousuke could get downright monstrous when he was hungry, but skipping a al for a little while wouldn't kill him.
She wasn't feeling guilty—just being polite.
"Well, you know~" Shouko smiled and glanced at Hojou, who was busy filleting the fish with intense focus.
"Did you know, Yukino, that the happiest part of enjoying a good al is actually the mont when you're waiting for it to be ready?" she said, her eyes twinkling.
Kyousuke looked a little intimidating right now—his thick eyebrows like twin blades, his eyes darker than usual, the lines of his face sharper.
But just knowing he was working so hard to cook for them made him seem even more handso.
Shouko felt so full of joy she almost didn't need to eat at all… though of course, she still planned to devour all that delicious fish.
"You're right," Yukinoshita nodded.
Her empty stomach and the anticipation of the al left her both tense and excited.
"Kyousuke-kun was the one who told that," Shouko went on. "He also said, 'The only ones who can bring happiness with a blade in their hands are chefs.'
Watching him cook makes us happy, and because of that, he's happy too."
She picked up a slice of beef from the white broth with her chopsticks and placed it onto Yukinoshita's plate.
"So please, eat up, Yukino. All this food is filled with the chef's love."
Yukinoshita's mind flashed back to the first ti she'd visited Hojou's ho in grade school.
She'd wanted to wait for him to sit down before eating, but Sakura and Hojou's mother had piled her bowl full without a second thought.
Back then, she'd been a little embarrassed.
Later, when she'd gotten to know Hojou better and started helping out in his kitchen, she saw how happy he looked as he devoured his als.
That was when she truly understood what it ant to share in soone's cooking.
'The chef's love, huh?' she thought.
What a corny thing to say—definitely sothing she could imagine Sakura spouting off.
She sighed and looked down at the beef on her plate.
It was a rich brown now, the pretty snowflake marbling completely gone, but the thickness and shape were still far more beautiful than anything you'd find in a convenience store bento or a family restaurant's beef bowl.
Yukinoshita compared it in her mind to other foods she knew.
Even though it was just a simple slice of beef, she could clearly see the care that had gone into preparing it.
"Well then… Itadakimasu," she said softly. No one else had said it, but it felt like the right mont.
"There's so sauce over here if you want to try it," Shouko offered, holding out a plate of fresh, unused sauce. "If you don't like it, you can always try it with a pasteurized egg instead."
"Alright, I'll give it a shot," Yukinoshita replied.
Normally so decisive—like an ancient general—she was surprisingly hesitant with every word, as if handling sothing delicate.
"It's really delicious," Shouko assured her.
"Mm." Yukinoshita nodded, her elegant fingers reaching for the beef.
She hesitated for a mont between the sauce and the egg, but in the end, she decided to trust Shouko's recomndation.
She wasn't curious about the so-called love in the sauce—she just believed that kind and gentle Nishimiya Shouko would never lie to her.
The beef, dipped in the red sauce, was guided by those slender white fingers towards her small, slightly parted lips.
"Um, Nishimiya-san, could you maybe not stare at so much while I eat?" Yukinoshita mumbled, her pale cheeks turning red.
"Hehe~ But you're just so elegant and pretty when you eat, Yukino," Shouko teased with a giggle.
For a mont, Yukinoshita thought she could see a hint of Sakura's mischievous spirit in Shouko's smile.
She quickly forced herself to ignore it and focused on the beef instead.
The mont the spicy sauce and tender beef hit her tongue, her face flushed even redder.
She normally preferred mild flavors, but the spice lit up her taste buds.
The rich, marbled beef practically lted in her mouth after a few chews, leaving behind an intense, savory flavor that was just irresistible.
Even before she'd swallowed the first bite, her hand was already reaching out for more.
"Yukino, Yukino, don't just eat—watch Kyousuke-kun too!" Shouko reminded her with a laugh.
"O-okay," Yukinoshita stamred in response.
But as soon as she'd spoken, she realized—why was she so eager to watch him?
She didn't even like Hojou!
If she was eating and watching him at the sa ti, wasn't she just another lovesick flower in bloom?
...
Oh no. That phrase was already stuck in her head, like it had taken root and wouldn't go away.
A hint of despair flashed through the girl's pale blue eyes.
It was true—there was a unique flavor here, sothing even the family's private chef couldn't replicate.
And that sea bream, rightly called "sakura sea bream," really did have a taste that felt like spring.
Yukinoshita picked a slice of sashimi as thin as a cicada's wing from the ice-cradled mountain, dipped it lightly in the sauce, and brought it to her lips.
'Huh? Did I really eat it?'
She swept her tongue around her mouth, but the delicate fish was nowhere to be found—only the lingering tang of the sauce remained.
Not convinced, she picked up another slice and ate it. It disappeared. Another. One more…
'I'm so full now…'
After the sashimi was served, Hojou Kyousuke turned to preparing the fish bones, getting ready to make a rice bowl for Katou gumi.
Cooking was truly a joy, as long as he didn't have to wash dishes or clean up afterward.
It wasn't just about the playful "feeding ga" with a pretty girl while washing vegetables; it was that feeling of creating a dish so delicious it could change soone's life.
That was truly captivating.
Yes, exactly—Yukino Yukari.
Even though she'd been dragged off by the boozehound Hiratsuka Shizuka to go drinking with Miki, she was still the greatest influence on Hojou Kyousuke's culinary journey.
Whenever he started cooking, that image of the elegant beauty, like soone who had stepped out of a painting, would appear before his eyes.
Those shy, expectant glances. The wide-open mouth.
The feel of firm teeth and a soft, damp tongue brushing against his fingers…
Ahem. Anyway, he'd set aside a portion of each dish just for her—so she'd have sothing to eat later tonight or bring to school tomorrow.
That was it.
Kyousuke finally understood what had been different in Katou gumi's expression and words earlier.
He had touched her heart. It was like an angel had co to the dinner table. He wasn't bragging—he really felt that way. Eating, and the monts around a al, were almost sacred.
But why? Had he said sothing particularly special to her?
"Alright, alright. So, Kato-senpai, is there anything you'd like to eat? Whether it's fish porridge or tempura, you na it."
That's what he'd said at the ti. He could rember even a stranger's words verbatim—of course he'd rember his own.
He held a spoon in one hand, ready to scrape the at from the fish bones.
But he paused and lifted his gaze to Katou gumi.
Everyone else had already turned away, absorbed in their sashimi. But she was still staring intently at him.
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