Room 303.
That was the number on the key Soma received after passing the Polar Star Dorm's admission test.
Though still a bit of a reckless teen, he'd managed to whip up a rich and comforting bowl of miso ramen with only the leftover ingredients in the kitchen—impressing even Madame Daimidō.
"Hah… finally. An interesting kid shows up."
Watching Soma hum his way up the stairs, room key swinging from his fingers, Madame Daimidō couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia.
Because in that moment—when Soma turned and smiled—she saw a glimpse of Jōichirō.
The same boy who'd moved into room 303 more than twenty years ago.
"…Am I just imagining things?" she muttered, rubbing her temples as the resemblance lingered in her mind.
The Polar Star Dorm.
It was once just an ordinary residential building within Totsuki Academy.
But more than two decades ago, students like Jōichirō, Gin, and even Azami had banded together, pooling their talent and drive to push for financial independence from the school's administration. Their efforts turned the dorm into an autonomous, self-sustaining household—and marked the golden era of Polar Star.
Times changed, of course.
Standards rose. Expectations grew.
But now? Compared to those days, the dorm had… declined.
Yes, students like Yuuki, Ryōko, Megumi, and Satoshi had their own quirks and strengths—but could any of them compare to Jōichirō's generation? In Madame Daimidō's eyes, the answer was clear: Not likely.
Fortunately, with Satoshi still holding the seventh seat of the Elite Ten, the dorm's dignity wasn't entirely lost.
Still…
Sigh.
"I wonder when this dorm will return to its former glory…" she whispered, stretching her limbs with a yawn and finally heading to bed.
Creak.
Just as the dorm supervisor was about to shut her door, she heard the faint sound of the front door opening.
Stepping into the hall, she saw Megumi walking in—quietly, nervously—carrying a small, suspicious-looking box.
"Ah!"
Startled at being caught, Megumi instinctively hid the box behind her back.
"Ahem… M-Madame Daimidō… you're still awake?"
"I was just welcoming a new resident," she replied, walking over with an inquisitive look. "But what about you? You never go out alone. And it's well past midnight. What's going on?"
"N-nothing! I just… got a little hungry. Went out to eat some Unadon…"
Megumi's voice was soft, almost muttered. Her eyes flicked left and right, her cheeks flushed with guilt.
Of course, she couldn't admit she'd snuck out just because she missed his cooking.
"…Unadon?"
Madame Daimidō raised a brow.
"As someone born and raised on local cuisine, you expect me to believe some ordinary Unadon made you sneak out this late?"
Her sharp eyes locked onto Megumi's awkward stance—particularly how the girl kept hiding something behind her.
"Yes! I mean, the master at the tavern makes amazing Unadon! So I stayed a bit… just a little longer than planned."
But the more she explained, the more suspicious it sounded.
Madame Daimidō's eyes narrowed. A slow, knowing grin curled across her lips.
"…Megumi. Be honest with me."
"Do you have a man outside?"
"E-EH?!"
Megumi froze, eyes wide, face instantly turning crimson.
"No! I-I don't! I really just went out for food! That's all!"
"I'm shy! I get nervous around boys! There's no way I—I'd ever sneak out to… to meet someone or go on a date or anything!"
Her words tripped over themselves, but her thoughts betrayed her.
Because the moment Madame Daimidō mentioned the possibility, a certain someone appeared in her mind:
Zane.
His incredible cooking skills.
His kind, thoughtful nature.
That calm smile that made her heart flutter.
Just thinking of him made her cheeks even redder.
Madame Daimidō caught it instantly.
"Really now? Then why are you blushing so much?"
"At your age, emotions run high. It's easy to get flustered. You're seeing a new world—meeting new people. Sometimes, we find someone who brings us peace, even if we don't understand why."
She paused, her tone softening.
"It's the start of the school year. And you're struggling—bottom of your class, unsure of yourself."
"But instead of turning to your friends here… you go to a tavern."
"To seek comfort."
"That's not just craving food, dear. That's the early stirrings of something more."
Madame Daimidō gave a wistful smile, her voice heavy with experience.
"Back in my day… I, too, was young and in love. I had someone, once. A passionate, beautiful romance…"
She trailed off.
Now, she was just the aging dorm matron. Those days were long gone.
"Madame Daimidō, it's not what you think!"
"You… you didn't come with us last time to the tavern, so you don't know! The master there—he's amazing! Not just as a chef… but as a person."
Megumi struggled to express what she herself didn't fully understand.
That warm, anchoring presence Zane offered whenever she felt lost.
Was it really love?
Or just the longing for someone to rely on?
To someone as innocent and inexperienced as Megumi, the line between admiration and affection was still blurry.
But wanting to avoid a deeper misunderstanding, she carefully explained everything that had happened at the tavern—the food, the atmosphere, the quiet reassurance.
"…Hmm. From what you say, the tavern master does sound like a respectable chef," Madame Daimidō nodded thoughtfully.
Megumi blinked.
That response caught her off guard.
Lowering her head, she bit her lip, her thoughts still tangled in confusion.