Three years.
For a full three years, Megumi had lived in a haze of anxiety and self-doubt.
No matter how hard she worked, her grades stayed stuck at the bottom. E after E after E—an occasional D on a good day. Not once in her entire time at Totsuki Middle School had she earned anything higher. B or C? Those were out of reach. An A? That felt like fantasy.
But today, she'd received an A.
From Roland Roland, the strictest, most unyielding instructor on campus.
She had passed.
And yet… it all felt surreal. Like a dream she didn't dare believe.
"This assessment was simple," Roland said as he collected his things.
"All you had to do was follow the recipe I provided. You decided it wasn't good enough, went with a version you learned elsewhere, and ended up making a superior red wine beef stew."
He turned back to look at her.
"So, tell me—how could I possibly fail you for that?"
With that, he turned and headed for the door. But just before stepping out, he paused.
"Your cooking carries gentleness," he said quietly.
"That's rare… and valuable."
He didn't turn around as he spoke. His voice was calm, thoughtful.
"Totsuki teaches skills. Techniques. We push you toward excellence through pressure and competition. But…"
"What is the true essence of cooking?"
"What is real cooking? And what makes someone a real chef?"
"These are questions we, as educators, often fail to answer."
He took a breath.
"Every year, countless students graduate from Totsuki—or drop out. Many are gifted, yes, but talent alone doesn't guarantee success. Nor does the prestige of the academy."
"In the end, ability matters. So does the platform you stand on."
"But perhaps even more important is the way we teach."
He turned his head slightly, just enough for Megumi to catch the edge of a smile.
"That pub you trained in… might be more noble than Totsuki."
"And that mysterious owner of yours? Perhaps a far better teacher than many of us."
"This time, you passed. But I hope you'll keep growing. Keep changing."
"Because if you continue to cook with that same gentle heart… you won't just make waves at Totsuki."
"No."
"You'll change the entire culinary world."
Then, without another word, Roland Roland walked out, leaving Megumi frozen, report card still clutched in her hands.
She didn't fully understand his words.
Not yet.
But in the years to come—when a certain golden-haired queen wages a culinary revolution that forces everyone to choose sides—Megumi would finally understand the meaning behind Roland's message.
Morning in Akihabara.
The early sun peeked through soft clouds, bathing the city in warm light.
Southwest of central Tokyo, Akihabara was already alive with energy. Streets were packed shoulder to shoulder with crowds swarming between ramen shops, manga stores, arcade halls, collectible figurine shops—and yes, even maid cafés with girls in frilly skirts calling out to passersby.
It was chaotic, loud, and unmistakably Akiba.
Among the crowd, a suspicious-looking girl shuffled her way down the sidewalk.
Despite the mild spring weather, she was wrapped head to toe in clothes more suited for winter. A thick coat, duckbill cap, a surgical mask covering her face—and, for good measure, sunglasses she had just pulled from her purse.
"Okay. Now I'm definitely unrecognizable," she whispered to herself.
Behind her, Hisako Shinomiya sighed and smiled.
"Miss Erina… no one's going to recognize you like that. You look like you're trying to sneak out of a crime scene."
"Exactly the point!" Erina snapped, adjusting her cap. "Now come on, before someone sees us!"
With a nervous glance around, Erina stepped into a modest-looking comic shop tucked away between a curry stall and a capsule toy machine.
The storefront was plain, even a little aged. But the moment they stepped inside, the scent of old paper and ink hit them.
Posters lined the walls, shelves were stuffed with comics from floor to ceiling—everything from classics to obscure indie manga.
Erina's eyes lit up.
She moved through the narrow aisles like a kid in a candy store—until one particular title on a top shelf caught her attention.
Magical Girl Academy H×H.
Her eyes sparkled.
She glanced around. No ladder. No stool.
Fine. She'd reach it herself.
She stood on her tiptoes, stretching, straining—but the book stayed stubbornly out of reach.
Just then…
"Need a hand?"
A warm voice came from behind her.
Before she could react, a figure reached past her and plucked the book from the shelf.
"Here you go," he said, offering it to her.
"T-Thank you…"
Erina accepted it without thinking—then froze.
That voice.
She looked up, heart skipping a beat.
Standing before her, casually flipping through a manga, was Zane—the tavern owner.
"Erina," he greeted, unfazed. "What a coincidence. Running into you here of all places… must be fate."
"N-No! You've mistaken me for someone else!" Erina blurted, her voice cracking with panic.
"I-I'm just a completely ordinary girl who happens to like comics—please stop staring!"
Her ears turned red beneath the mask. Thank goodness her face was hidden.
Zane tilted his head.
Then calmly reached out… and placed a hand on her forehead.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?!"
"Just checking," he said dryly. "You don't have a fever, so I guess this is just your natural reaction."
He sighed dramatically. "Look, it's not that weird to like magical girl manga. Even if it's, y'know… kinda pervy."
"It's not pervy!" Erina shrieked, clamping the book to her chest like a shield.
Behind her, Hisako silently turned away, pretending not to know her.