A dialogue-heavy chapter—hope you will like it!
Megumi was soaking in the warm bath, steam curling gently around her face as the water lapped against her shoulders. The soft scent of soap and minerals offered a much-needed contrast to the chaos of the day. Her body slowly eased into the heat, tension dissolving into the bath with every passing second.
Her mind, however, remained active.
She thought back on everything that had happened—from the moment she was paired with the only two transfer students, to somehow surviving a sabotaged dish and walking away with an "A" from Chapelle-sensei, of all people. What she'd feared would be her worst nightmare had turned out to be... oddly fortunate.
Kiyotaka-kun and Sōma-kun...
Her expression softened at the thought—until it didn't.
The water gave a small splash as she visibly flinched.
Though Sōma... she sighed.
She stared blankly at the rubber duck floating in front of her. "He made me try all those new 'recipes'," she muttered aloud, nudging the duck with a finger. "Just reacting to it all tuckered me right out."
The duck bobbed in agreement, or so she imagined.
"He's such a pain, isn't he?" she said, giving it another gentle poke.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her gaze lifted to the wooden beams above, the faint sound of cicadas drifting through the windows. This dorm... Polar Star... it may have been old, but it was warm and comforting.
"Though Miss Fumio scares me a little..." she added under her breath. "Ever since junior high, this dorm has been the only place where I could relax and unwind. No strict teachers breathing down my neck here... and definitely no silly Sōmas either."
She closed her eyes, let out a soft exhalation, and let the warmth wrap around her like a blanket.
For now, at least she could relax.
Just as Megumi was fully melting into the warmth of the bath, her eyelids drooping with comfort, the peaceful silence was shattered by a far-too-familiar voice echoing outside the bath.
"Hehe, finally a bath...!" came Sōma's unmistakable voice, as chipper and carefree as ever.
Megumi's eyes snapped open, her pupils widening in horror, and just as she wanted to warn them, Kiyotaka's calm voice drifted in.
"Wait. Fumio didn't say if—"
But it was too late. The door slammed open.
Megumi froze like a frightened deer.
Sōma stood at the entrance in all his oblivious glory, towel slung over his shoulder, completely unprepared for what lay before him.
"Eh?"
His brain lagged for a full second. He stood frozen, fully naked, mid-step into the steamy bath.
Megumi's face slowly turned the color of a ripe tomato. A full three seconds passed in soul-crushing silence.
And then—
"W-W-WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
SPLASH! Water erupted as Megumi submerged like a submarine under enemy fire.
"KYAAAAA!! GET OUT, YOU IDIOOOTTTTT!!!" she wailed, her voice warped but still unmistakably horrified.
Sōma let out a high-pitched yelp, flinging his hands up like a criminal caught red-handed. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! I thought it was empty, I swear! I didn't see anything—okay, maybe a little—but it wasn't on purpose!"
"GET OUT!! OUTOUTOUTOUTOUT!!"
Megumi's shriek echoed like a banshee's wail, and in her panic, she hurled the rubber duck at Sōma. The bath toy whistled through the steamy air like a missile and nailed Sōma right in the forehead with comedic accuracy.
"Ow.." He let out, stumbling backward in retreat.
Unfortunately, his path of escape was directly into Kiyotaka, who stood silently behind him, wrapped modestly in a towel around his waist.
Fwip.
The towel gave up its duty with a whisper, falling to the floor like the tragic final curtain of a forgotten stage play.
In that exact moment, Megumi resurfaced, taking a single cautious eye peeking above the waterline, hoping the danger had passed.
Instead, her eyes widened.
The air left her lungs.
Before, her view had been blocked by Sōma, leaving Kiyotaka mostly obscured. But now there was no barrier. No hiding.
In her line of sight, Kiyotaka stood in all his unintentional glory—stoic, statuesque, completely exposed to the bathroom's steamy light like a Greek sculpture come to life, but with a stark difference.
Unlike those Greek sculptures, where their member was either kept modestly small or obscured by a chiseled leaf, this was... unmistakable.
Not small.
Not even close.
Impressive might've been an understatement.
And there was nothing covering it.
Megumi's eyes darted between Kiyotaka's considerable endowment and his sculpted torso in rapid, disbelieving flickers. Her face burned crimson, surpassing what should have been humanly possible, the steam from the bath doing nothing to hide her flustered state.
With infuriating calmness, Kiyotaka retrieved the fallen towel and secured it around his hips before dryly observing, "Megumi, my eyes are up here."
The comment shattered her stunned reverie.
There was a beat of silence.
Then a geyser of steam erupted from Megumi's blushing face.
Her entire body plunged backward into the water, thrashing wildly as bubbles shot to the surface. "I-I-I—DIDN'T MEAN TO—WHY DID I LOOK?! WAAAAAAAAH!!"
Her ear-splitting shriek sent actual tiles rattling, while outside, a flock of birds abandoned their perch in panic. In her frantic retreat, she submerged so violently that half the bathwater sloshed onto the floor.
Sōma, still rubbing the spot where the rubber duck had struck him, blinked owlishly at the unfolding chaos. His gaze slowly traveled to Kiyotaka, then down to the now-toweled region, before offering with complete sincerity:
"...Uh, can't blame her. I mean, I'm straight, and even I was kinda impressed by that monster."
Kiyotaka sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Must we really discuss this?"
Meanwhile, beneath the churning water, Megumi curled into a fetal position, desperately trying to scrub the image from her mind—and failing spectacularly.
𓌉◯𓇋
After the eventful bath, I stepped into my new room, Room 304. My new home.
Sōma's room, 303, was just next door.
Compared to my room at ANHS, this one was noticeably smaller. Back then, I had my own kitchen, my own bathroom, and more space than I ever really needed. But here, in a shared dormitory with communal facilities and thin walls... the environment was different. Not necessarily worse, just... unfamiliar.
I dropped onto the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly under my weight. My bag was still in the kitchen, along with the leftovers I'd stored in the fridge. I figured I'd go fix the dish a bit before I let it sit too long.
That was the plan... until—
"DWAAAH!"
A loud yell echoed through the wall. That voice was unmistakable.
Sōma.
I stayed still, listening. Some shuffling followed, a thump or two, and then silence. A moment later, I heard his door open.
Strange.
Before I could stand, a noise from above caught my attention. And then...
Part of the ceiling creaked, a panel shifted, and a face popped through the gap.
It was the student who was talking with Fumio earlier, Isshiki.
"Hey there, transfer student! C'mon. We're throwing a welcome party for you!"
I stared blankly at the upside-down head of the overly enthusiastic boy grinning at me like this was a completely normal method of communication.
So that was the reason Sōma screamed.
Of course.
Isshiki's smile widened when I didn't immediately respond.
"Don't just lie there all spaced out!" he said cheerfully. "You and Yukihiria Sōma are the guests of honor!"
"Is this a normal thing?" I asked, not really directing the question at him but more to the world in general.
"Totally normal!" he replied, completely missing the sarcasm in my words. "Happens all the time here. You'll get used to it!"
With that, he pulled his head back through the ceiling, the panel clunking shut behind him as if nothing had happened. A few dust particles lazily drifted down in his absence.
"...Right."
I sat up and ran a hand through my hair. It hadn't even been 24 hours since I transferred here. I'd faced sabotage, moved into a dorm with its own animal kingdom, got almost tackled by an emotionally unstable dorm matron, was naked in front of a girl I only knew for less than a day, and now I was being summoned through the ceiling like I lived in a spy thriller.
Life was good.
I stood and made my way to the door.
As I opened the door, I was met with the sight of Sōma leaning casually against his own door frame, arms crossed and an amused look on his face.
"Man, how are you so calm after that?" he asked, grinning like the chaos of the past few hours hadn't fazed him one bit. "That guy popped out of your ceiling too, didn't he?"
I gave him a slow nod.
"He did."
Sōma laughed. "That guy's a menace. I almost had a heart attack."
"You screamed loud enough," I replied flatly.
"Hey, anyone would scream if a random someone's head popped out of their ceiling with zero warning!"
We started walking down the hall toward the source of laughter, footsteps echoing faintly on the wooden floorboards.
"So," he continued, "what do you think this welcome party's gonna be like?"
"I've stopped trying to predict things here."
He laughed again. "Fair."
A short descent down the staircase led us to the source of the laughter.
Room 205. The door was already ajar, and the moment we stepped inside, a voice filled with irritation rang out above the background chatter.
"Why must you always barge into my room for these things?! Seriously, there are empty rooms all over this place! I have a test to study for!"
The complaint came from a student standing near a cluttered desk, adjusting his glasses in frustration. He had short black hair and looked like someone who'd rather be buried in textbooks than surrounded by noise.
The girl lounging on the bed responded without even sparing the boy a glance. "Well, it's not like we've got a better option, y'know. Your room's the biggest in the dorm." She casually inspected her nails, her tone flippant and unapologetic.
It was the same girl responsible for the stampede of animals earlier when I first arrived at the dorm.
I let my gaze drift over the others in the room.
Seated quietly on the floor, Megumi looked like a ghost of herself, her expression still traumatized from the bath incident. Her eyes were locked somewhere far off, barely tracking the movement around her.
Next to her, seated close with an arm gently resting behind Megumi's back in a comforting gesture, was another girl. She had long fuchsia hair that reached her waist and matching eyes. The calm in her presence radiated a warm, big-sister-like energy. Judging by the soft look in her eyes, she was trying to anchor Megumi back to reality.
Near the far corner of the room, two boys were in the middle of what looked like a heated argument. One had dirty blond hair that curled slightly at the ends, while the other sported black hair with long sideburns. Both had a delinquent air about them, their postures relaxed but confrontational.
And sitting against the wall was another boy, his auburn hair unkempt and long enough to hide his eyes completely. He hadn't spoken a word nor reacted to the noise. Just sitting, arms in his pockets, watching the situation unfold.
Lastly, the bespectacled student who had been complaining was still standing near his desk, now visibly agitated.
"That's my bed you're sitting on! Don't just plop down without asking, and don't mess with—"
Before he could finish, the girl on the bed abruptly turned her head and noticed us at the doorway. Her eyes lit up.
"Oh hey! The transfer students finally made it!"
In one swift motion, she hopped off the bed and walked toward us, her energy suddenly dialed up like someone flipped a switch. Sōma and I exchanged a glance—he was unusually quiet, also observing the room and its strange chemistry. Though his smile was starting to grow again.
She stopped a few steps in front of us, hands on her hips, and a grin spreading across her face.
"Took you long enough," she said, eyes flicking between the two of us. "You missed the part where Marui nearly had a heart attack."
"Hey!" the boy with glasses, apparently called Marui, snapped from behind her. "I'm right here!"
The girl waved off Marui's protest with a casual flick of her wrist, not even turning to acknowledge him.
"I'm Yoshino Yūki!" she declared, puffing her chest out proudly. "My Specialty? Wild game. If it moves, I can cook it."
She gave a playful wink.
I nodded slightly. "Mhm."
Without waiting for any sort of response to her introduction, she turned and pointed a finger toward the two boys still mid-bickering in the corner.
"Those two over there, still arguing like an old married couple? That's Satō Shōji—" she gestured to the blond-haired one, "—and that's Aoki Daigo." She motioned to the black-haired boy with the long sideburns. "You'll never find them apart. Or quiet."
Right on cue, the pair paused in their squabble, smiled, and gave us quick waves... only to snap right back at Yoshino a second later.
"Not true!" Satō barked.
"You take that back!" Aoki added, pointing a finger at her.
Yoshino just smirked, turning back toward us. "See what I mean?"
"Anyway," Yoshino continued breezily, hands now folded behind her head like she was leading a tour, "the guy sitting over there with the hair covering his eyes? That's Ibusaki Shun, he is the one who was responsible for the chaos earlier on."
My eyebrows rose slightly at her words.
Sōma tilted his head. "Chaos?"
"Oh, right, you weren't here yet." Yoshino tapped her chin with one finger, feigning deep thought. "Only Ayanokoji-kun showed up around then."
"Huh? Wait, how do you know his name already?" Sōma asked.
Yoshino flashed a grin so smug it bordered on theatrical. "Please. After that grand entrance you two made during the ceremony? Pretty sure the entire school knows your names by now."
Sōma gave a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess we did make kind of a scene, huh?"
I offered a faint shrug. "It was bound to happen."
Yoshino pointed dramatically at me. "You especially! That speech? Cold. Ruthless. Loved it."
Marui groaned from the corner. "Loved it? He practically declared war on the entire school!"
"Exactly!" Yoshino beamed. "It was awesome!"
"Terrifying," the girl with fuchsia hair chimed in gently from her spot beside Megumi, who still looked like her soul was halfway out the door. Despite the comment, she gave a warm smile and offered a small wave toward us. "I'm Sakaki Ryōko. Nice to meet you."
"Guess we're officially famous now," Sōma said, flashing a grin as he leaned slightly toward me.
"You mean infamous," I replied, tone dry.
Sakaki giggled quietly, while Yoshino threw her head back and laughed aloud. "Infamous, famous—who cares! I think it's awesome!" She gave us a playful thumbs-up, her eyes practically gleaming with excitement. "Who would've guessed both transfer students would end up here, of all places?"
She looked around the room dramatically, as if setting the stage for something grand.
"Polar Star's getting wild this year," she declared. "I can feel it!"
"Well, anyway, last but not least," Yoshino continued, turning to gesture at Megumi, who was seated quietly beside Sakaki, "the girl next to Ryōko is—"
"Megumi," Sōma finished for her, smiling lightly.
Yoshino blinked. "Huh?" Now it was her turn to be confused.
"We were paired up in class today," he explained, still smiling. "Along with Kiyotaka."
Just then, Megumi's head perked up slightly, as if her name being spoken had nudged her back to reality. The haze in her eyes began to clear, her awareness returning to the room around her.
She spotted Sōma first and then me. The moment her eyes found mine, her face reddened dramatically.
Her shoulders stiffened, but after a breath, like she was summoning all the courage in her body, she raised one trembling hand in a soft wave.
"Good evening..." she mumbled, almost too quietly to hear.
Sōma returned her wave without missing a beat. I nodded in her direction in acknowledgment.
Yoshino's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, her lips parting as if she were about to toss out a teasing question—likely aimed at Megumi's sudden blush—but before she could say a word, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway behind us.
I turned slightly and caught sight of Isshiki approaching with a laid-back smile, his carefree energy trailing behind him like sunlight on a breeze.
I nudged Sōma with my elbow. He straightened up, and we both stepped further into the room, clearing space for him to join the group.
"Looks like everyone's here now," Isshiki said brightly as he entered.
Without missing a beat, he walked right up to us and extended a hand. He shook Sōma's first, then turned to me.
"My name's Isshiki," he said with an easy grin. "Second year at Tōtsuki. Feel free to call me Isshiki-senpai!"
"Everyone else in the room's a first-year like you two, so that makes me your elder!" he added with a smile, placing a hand dramatically on his chest before flashing another smile.
"Welcome to the Polar Star Dormitory!"
The other students in the room responded with smiles and nods, a relaxed, welcoming energy settling over the space.
This dorm is different, I thought silently as I glanced around.
Sakaki patted the spot beside her, motioning for us to join her and Megumi. Sōma and I complied, sitting down on the floor with the rest of the group.
"Okay, everyone! Let's raise a toast!" someone called out cheerfully from the back of the room.
Sakaki leaned forward and pulled out a large glass bottle with a handwritten label, the liquid inside a pale, cloudy color. She poured its contents into two cups and handed them to both me and Sōma with a gentle smile.
Sōma took the cup, eyeing it curiously. "Uh... are we really allowed to party this late?"
"It's fine," Sakaki reassured him, adjusting her posture to better reach the others. "There's nothing out here but forest and more forest. Nobody's gonna complain."
"But what about the dorm matron?" Sōma asked again, hesitantly.
Before anyone could respond—
"HEY, YOU KIDS!"
The sudden bellow from the megaphone cut through the room like thunder. A few students jumped slightly. Sōma froze beside me. The rest, however, barely flinched. Apparently, this was business as usual.
"I MADE SOME YELLOWTAIL AND DAIKON STEW. SOMEBODY COME DOWN HERE AND GET IT!"
Without missing a beat, Satō and Aoki leapt up with enthusiasm. "Seriously? Miss Fumio, you're the best!" they yelled in unison as they darted toward the door.
Sōma blinked in disbelief, still clutching his untouched drink. "She... doesn't care?"
"Just make sure you're back before she starts ranting about the old Council of Ten again!" Yoshino called after them with a smirk.
The room was still buzzing with light conversation and soft laughter as I stared into my cup.
Hmm... Is this homemade alcohol, maybe sweet sake, based on the aroma?
I was about to ask when Sōma beat me to asking a question. However, his question wasn't the one I had in mind.
"So, uh... what's this 'Council of Ten' thing?"
Sakaki, still seated beside me, blinked in surprise. "Huh? You're seriously asking that?"
Yoshino leaned forward, still sitting on the bed. "Wow, you really did come here not knowing a thing about Tōtsuki." She turned her gaze on me. "What about you, Ayanokoji-kun? You know about them, right?"
The Elite Ten... I did know about them. After all, it was part of the goal I had here at this institution, the goal I expected to reach: the top spot at this academy and, with that, the number one seat of the Elite Ten.
I gave a quiet nod. "Yes. From what I've gathered, the Elite Ten is a governing body made up of the academy's top ten students, ranked by internal evaluations. They wield significant influence, so much so that even instructors defer to their authority. In terms of hierarchy, they're directly beneath the director of the academy."
I paused for a moment before continuing. "As of now, I only know one name associated with the Council—Nakiri Erina."
At the mention of her name, Sōma, who had been listening attentively, reacted visibly.
"Nakiri... Erina?" he repeated, as if confirming he'd heard right.
His reaction didn't go unnoticed. Yoshino perked up, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.
"Oh? Sounds like you've heard of her."
Sōma scratched the back of his head, muttering something under his breath.
"Well, 'know' is putting it lightly, hehe," Sōma said, rubbing the back of his neck.
I took a quick scan around the room. Isshiki, leaning against the wall near the doorway, seemed particularly intrigued by the turn of conversation. When our eyes met, he gave me a subtle, amused smile.
Yoshino and Sakaki were intrigued by Sōma's comment, eyes shining with curiosity as they nudged him for more details.
"And? Come on, don't leave us hanging!" Yoshino urged.
"Yeah, what happened?" Sakaki added, her tone soft but clearly interested.
Sōma exhaled, his grin returning in a more sheepish form. "She was in charge of mine and Kiyotaka's transfer exam."
That immediately got everyone's attention.
"Wait, you had Nakiri Erina—the God Tongue— judging your exam?" Yoshino gawked.
"And you passed?" Sakaki added, clearly impressed. "You must've cooked something incredible. I mean, getting a dish past her is no small feat..."
Sōma glanced at me for a moment before scratching his cheek with a wry smile.
"...Not exactly."
Confusion rippled through the room.
Megumi blinked rapidly and leaned forward. "Wait. Sōma, what do you mean by 'not exactly'?"
I let out a quiet breath. "We technically failed," I said flatly. "At least by her judgment."
"HUH?!" Yoshino nearly choked on her soda.
"WHAT?!" Sakaki asked in bewilderment.
"Then how are you here?" Megumi asked, baffled.
I weighed my response carefully. I couldn't exactly say that an old man had been spying on our cooking from inside a closet, and then decided to overrule Nakiri Erina's decision, and coincidentally, that old man was the director of Tōtsuki.
So I gave the cleanest version possible. "Someone higher in the chain of command stepped in and reversed the call."
"...Higher than Nakiri Erina?" Sakaki repeated, slowly.
"Isn't that just the director?" Yoshino said, her voice somewhere between stunned and amused.
"Well, in this case, I think yes," I confirmed. "While Nakiri's individual vote doesn't carry the full authority of the entire Elite Ten, I doubt many faculty members would challenge any of them, let alone the director's granddaughter."
"You seem to know a lot about how things work here," Isshiki observed, tilting his head slightly. "Picking up on academy politics like that is impressive, especially for a transfer student."
I kept my expression neutral and met Isshiki's gaze evenly. "Just connecting the dots."
Isshiki didn't look convinced. If anything, his grin widened—not in amusement, but in quiet acknowledgment.
Across the room, Megumi blinked between us, sensing the shift but not quite grasping it. Sōma just nodded along. "Makes sense to me!"
Then he shrugged. "Well, that someone, whether director or someone else, happened to like our food. Guess we got lucky."
Yoshino pointed at me with dramatic flair. "So let me get this straight—Nakiri Erina, the God Tongue, failed you... and then the director of the entire school was like, 'Nah, these guys are keepers'?!"
"Something like that."
"No offense," Aoki muttered, who had by now returned together with Satō, "but what the hell kind of sitcom are you two living in?"
Sōma laughed. "The kind with great food and weird twists, apparently."
Sakaki offered a soft smile. "Well... I'm glad you both made it here."
I gave a small nod. "Same."
Even Megumi, who still looked like she was holding back a hundred questions, gave a relieved sigh.
Yoshino raised her cup high. "Well then! That just calls for a toast!"
"To the guys who broke school records for most dramatic entrance!"
Everyone raised their drinks, and laughter followed.
I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip. It was sweet at first, but as the flavor settled, a faint bitterness lingered on the back of my tongue, though the sweetness dominated. Not unpleasant, but unfamiliar.
So this is what alcohol tastes like...
Beside me, Sōma coughed quietly after his own sip, his expression contorting slightly.
"Whoa—what is this?" he asked, wiping the corner of his mouth.
Sakaki, still sitting with her usual serene smile, held up the large bottle with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Fufufu~ It's just rice juice. Honest. Completely innocent, of course," she said with an almost suspicious wink.
"Hey! We've got golden tea too!" Satō suddenly called from across the room, lifting a box full of bottles triumphantly.
"Yaaaay! Golden tea! Golden tea!" Yoshino cheered, throwing her hands up in celebration like a child presented with candy.
"Somebody chill it quick!" Aoki shouted, already rummaging around for ice.
I turned back to Sakaki and raised an eyebrow. "So... how much alcohol does your 'rice juice' actually have? Did you make it yourself?"
She gave a melodious laugh, tilting her head. "Let's just say... strong enough to help you forget about school for a bit. And yes—I brewed it right here in the dorm. Secret recipe."
"Is that even allowed?" Sōma asked, eyeing his cup suspiciously.
By Japanese law, brewing alcoholic beverages stronger than 1% without a license is technically illegal. But considering my limited experience with alcohol, I couldn't pinpoint the exact percentage in this drink. Judging from the taste, though, it didn't seem particularly strong.
Sakaki placed a finger on her lips. "Shh. We don't ask questions like this here."
Sōma blinked, then stared at his cup with wide eyes. "Whoa! This place is lawless, like totally lawless! And is everyone here some kind of weirdo?!"
Megumi, seated just behind us, hesitantly raised her voice. "Um, actually... I think you'll fit in just fine, Sōma-kun."
I gave a small nod of agreement. "I agree with her. You have found your new home."
Sōma whipped around to face me, looking betrayed. "Kiyotaka?!"
Megumi softly added, "Kiyotaka-kun, I think you'll fit in here too."
I glanced over at her, her expression gentle, though her cheeks were still slightly flushed. It was a small comment, but sincere.
"Is that so?" I replied calmly, taking another sip from my cup.
Yoshino leaned forward with a sly grin. "With that deadpan face and mysterious aura? You're exactly the kind of person who ends up being the dark horse around here."
"You mean the guy who looks like he's plotting something even when he's just drinking?" Satō joked.
"Or like he's memorizing all our weaknesses right now," Aoki added dramatically, clutching his chest.
Sōma burst out laughing. "Well, they're not wrong."
"I'm just observing," I replied dryly, which only earned another wave of laughter from the group.
Sakaki chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear. "It's going to be a lively year. I can tell already."
The soft chatter, the clinking of bottles, and the easy rhythm of a shared evening gave a rare kind of comfort.
"By the way," I began, shifting my attention to Sakaki. "Would you be willing to teach me how to brew?"
Her eyes lit up with interest. "Oh? Brew what exactly?" she asked with a playful tilt of her head.
"Your 'rice juice'," I said, giving a faint gesture toward her bottle.
Yoshino immediately perked up. "Ooooh~ Kiyotaka wants in on the secret stash!"
I ignored her teasing, keeping my gaze steady on Sakaki. "I've read a lot about fermentation and distillation processes. On paper, it all seems manageable, but hands-on application is a different story."
"Books are a great start," Sakaki said, her tone shifting into something softer, more thoughtful. "But there's a certain intuition to it. And patience. You can't rush something like this."
"I'm aware," I said with a nod. "Still, I'd rather learn it properly than burn down the dorm trying to recreate it based on theory alone."
That earned a round of laughter from the group.
"Spoken like someone who's actually thought through the worst-case scenario," Ibusaki said.
Sakaki smiled, clearly amused. "Alright, Ayanokoji-kun. I'll teach you. But only if you promise not to approach it like you're building a science project."
"Deal."
"And," she added with a sly smile, "if you really want to understand brewing, you'll have to learn how to drink, too."
"I'll manage," I replied evenly.
Sōma leaned over with a grin. "Careful. That's how it starts. First, you're curious, next thing you know, you're the dorm's bootlegger."
"There it is!"
A loud, cheerful voice snapped my attention to the center of the room, where Isshiki was...
"..." I silently tapped Sōma's shoulder and pointed in Isshiki's direction.
He turned to look. His expression went blank. Then—
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
Sakaki appeared beside us, refilling Sōma's empty cup. Then she did the same with mine.
"You'll need to drink a little more," she said with an amused smile. "Everything feels more normal then."
Sōma stared down at his now-full cup, bewildered. "Thanks—WAIT, WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL IS GOING ON?!"
His brain had finally caught up to what his eyes were seeing, and his voice cracked from sheer disbelief.
I merely lifted my cup and took another measured sip.
"...This is apparently normal."
I couldn't fault his reaction.
Isshiki stood proudly in the center of the room wearing nothing but an apron, his bare butt cheeks clenched. The apron did nothing to hide them.
Sōma's eye twitched. "I—but—why is he—" He turned to me desperately. "Kiyotaka, make it make sense."
I took a long sip from my refilled cup. "Alcohol." [I don't advocate drinking, okay?]
Sakaki nodded sagely. "Alcohol."
At that moment, Isshiki struck another pose, the apron fluttering dangerously. "BEHOLD! The secret to perfect cooking is—"
Five minutes later...
"YAAAHHAAHAHA! LET'S GOOOOO!"
Sōma was now fully part of the chaos, clapping like a man possessed, his face red—not just from the drinks, but from laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He slammed his hand on the floor between fits of wheezing.
I watched as he howled beside me, one arm flung over his head, the other waving a cup dangerously close to spilling. Any sense of disbelief from earlier had evaporated, replaced by what I could only describe as full assimilation into Polar Star's madness.
The once-skeptical transfer student had officially joined the circus.
Yoshino had tears in her eyes from laughing, clutching her stomach and pointing toward Isshiki, who had now taken to narrating his apron-draped performance like a dramatic stage play. Aoki and Satō were stomping their feet in approval, chanting his name like fans at a concert.
Even Sakaki was chuckling quietly, covering her mouth with her sleeve, while Megumi... looked like she'd ascended to a higher plane of embarrassment.
"See? I knew it," she whispered to no one in particular, almost resigned to her fate. With a tiny sigh, she brought her cup to her lips and took a slow, steady sip of the "rice juice."
"MORE FOOD! WE'RE RUNNING LOW OVER HERE!" Sōma suddenly roared, slapping the floor like he was rallying troops.
Right on cue, Ibusaki quietly entered the room, unfazed by the energy, carrying a platter loaded with smoked food—smoked cheese, assorted jerky, and other savory bites that filled the air with a rich, mouthwatering aroma.
I took one of each variety and tasted them.
And I was genuinely surprised.
Compared to the processed beef jerky I once tried from a convenience store at ANHS, this was an entirely different league. Deeply savory, subtly smoky, with just the right amount of chew and seasoning—it was closer to culinary craftsmanship than mere snack food.
Around me, others were equally delighted, although with the atmosphere being what it was, they probably would've cheered for instant noodles at this point—well, maybe not if they came from Yukihira's "diabolical" recipe stash.
"Mmm! This smoky, salty flavor's perfect!" Sōma shouted, gulping them down in mass.
"Ibusaki, your work is spot on!" Marui chimed in, glasses askew, his earlier seriousness all but dissolved in the haze of food and fun.
"YO! WE GOT MORE!" someone hollered from the hallway.
Satō and Aoki rushed in with steaming trays. "It's mixed-veggie tempura! Fresh from the garden out back!
I took a portion and tasted the tempura. And once more, I was surprised—pleasantly so. Before enrolling at Tōtsuki, I wouldn't have imagined something as ordinary as mixed-vegetable tempura could have this much depth. The crispness of the batter, the sweetness of the garden-fresh vegetables... It was simple, yet refined.
Beside me, Sōma dug in eagerly. "MMM! There's no way this could ever be bad!"
Aoki let out a loud, belly-deep laugh. "WAHAHAHA! Of course it's good!"
Satō folded his arms, feigning arrogance. "Not bad, but the tempura prawns I made last week were better."
"Wha'choo talkin' about man? Do your taste buds even work? If you're a real chef, let your food do the talkin'!" Aoki fired back, getting into Satō's face.
"You're on, pal! Gimme just eight minutes—"
"Hold it, you two!" Yoshino cut in, arms crossed and an authoritative glare on her face. "You always wind up making way too much, so keep it in check this time, 'kay?"
The pair rolled their eyes in unison. "Shaddap, game girl! You reek up the whole dorm with your wild animals!"
That was the wrong thing to say.
Yoshino's eye twitched, and a dangerously sweet smile spread across her face. "Oh? Is that so?" she said, voice light. "Well, if you're gonna be mean to my adorable little friends... I'm gonna have to re-educate you on how amazing they are."
She turned on her heel, already heading for the door with ominous purpose, tugging up her sleeves.
"Wait just an hour or so," she called over her shoulder.
"Oh no, she's gonna go butcher one of her animals!" Aoki yelped, already backing toward the far wall.
"Yuki, no! Don't do it! Calm down!" Megumi cried out, jumping to her feet in panic.
Thankfully, Sakaki was already moving. Together, she and Megumi managed to intercept Yoshino at the doorway, gently guiding her back inside while whispering reassurances and calmly talking her down. The sweet and dangerous smile on Yoshino's face didn't fade, but she relented—albeit with a promise that the "re-education" was simply postponed.
Just as the tension began to ease, Sōma slipped out of the room without a word and returned moments later holding a plastic container in both hands.
"Whoa, whoa! How about I bring out the new dish I made, instead?"
"Yes! Bring it out, Yukihira!" Satō shouted enthusiastically, too caught up in the energy of the room to sense the danger.
I didn't say a word. There are lessons best learned firsthand.
Without hesitation, Sōma handed him a chopstick, and Satō scooped up a portion of the oddly colored mixture. The moment it entered his mouth, time seemed to slow.
His eyes went wide. His cheeks bulged.
And then—"GROOOOOOOOSSSSSSSS!!" he screamed, flailing as he clutched his throat with both hands, stumbling around the room in agony. "WHAT IS THIS ABOMINATION?!"
"Oops," Sōma said with zero remorse, casually scratching the back of his head. "That one was a failure."
Yoshino doubled over laughing, her knees buckling as she clutched her stomach. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I can't—I can't breathe!"
Sakaki let out a quiet chuckle behind her sleeves. Aoki was howling with laughter, barely staying upright while Satō scrambled for water.
Another victim of Sōma's creations.
By now, Megumi was just as dazed as the others. Yoshino and Sakaki sat beside her, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.
"Ne~, Ne~, Megumiiii," Yoshino trilled, her voice slightly slurred from the alcohol. "I never got to ask earlier... what exactly happened back there to make you scream like your hair was on fire?"
Megumi froze, her face paling instantly. Her lips parted and closed several times, but no words escaped.
After a moment, she finally managed to whisper an explanation, too quiet for me to catch.
Yoshino's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Ooooh~" she drawled, wiggling her eyebrows. "So it was a peep show! Who was more impressive? The loudmouth or the quiet one?"
Sakaki shot Yoshino a look. "Come on, leave her alone." She turned to Megumi with a softer tone. "Breathe, Megumi. It's just a penis. Statistically, half the population has one."
"BUT NOT KIYOTAKA-KUN'S—" Megumi suddenly shrieked, instantly silencing the entire room.
Realizing what she'd just blurted out, she buried her face in her hands and wailed, "WAAAAAAAAA!"
Nearby, Sōma, who had been listening in, casually added, "She's not wrong. That thing was a monument."
I stood abruptly. "I'm leaving."
"Ah, wait, Ayanokoji-kun," Sakaki's voice called from behind as I exited the room.
"I'll be back in ten minutes. I'm going to make something," I replied over my shoulder.
I left the chaos behind and headed down the stairs toward the dorm's kitchen. The quiet here felt almost surreal in contrast to the ongoing chaos upstairs.
Once inside the kitchen, I removed the container of leftovers from my bag and transferred them into a pot. I turned the heat on low, letting the flavors slowly revive as the stew began to warm.
While it simmered, I went to the refrigerator and retrieved the chilled risotto I had saved earlier. I pulled out a block of low-moisture mozzarella, two eggs, a small bowl of all-purpose flour, and a container of panko breadcrumbs.
I began shaping the cold risotto into firm, round balls and flattened them gently into patties. Into the center of each, I pressed a small cube of mozzarella. Once sealed shut again, I coated each one in flour, dipped them in the beaten egg, and finally rolled them in the panko until evenly coated.
With the arancini prepped, I set a pot of oil on the stove and began heating it. While waiting for the oil to reach temperature, I turned to a familiar task—preparing bruschetta. I sliced the remaining ciabatta into clean, even pieces, toasted them lightly, and recreated the same mixture as before: small pieces of cherry tomatoes, finely chopped basil, olive oil, and minced garlic, all stirred together and set aside to marinate.
Next, I gave my attention to the pot of Boeuf Bourguignon. It was still overly salty from the sabotage earlier, but there was a solution. I spotted the bottle of red wine Fumio had shown me earlier and, without hesitation, poured in almost the rest of it—just over 500 milliliters. The added liquid would soften the saltiness without ruining the depth.
To help it reach the desired consistency, I stirred in a small amount of cornstarch, and within moments, the sauce began to thicken beautifully, resembling the balance we had achieved earlier in class. Satisfied, I turned off the heat and returned to the oil, now bubbling steadily on the stovetop.
Using a thermometer to ensure the perfect temperature, I carefully lowered the arancini into the hot oil one at a time. The sizzle that followed confirmed I'd done it right.
While I waited for the arancini to finish frying, I took the wine bottle, which was nearly empty now, and drank the last remains.
Compared to the homemade sweet sake from earlier, this wine had a sharper edge. It was more intense, bolder on the tongue, and the warmth that followed as it went down was unmistakable. But it wasn't unpleasant.
In fact, it tasted... good. Smooth, with a depth that lingered just long enough to make me appreciate the balance. I took another sip, letting the flavor settle, the quiet of the kitchen wrapping around me like a soft veil.
Soon enough, the arancini reached a perfect golden brown. I carefully lifted each one out of the oil, placing them on a wire rack set atop a baking sheet to let the excess oil drain.
While they rested, I moved quickly to clean the used cookware—wiping down surfaces and rinsing out the pots—except for the frying oil, which I left to cool for later disposal.
Once everything was in order, I turned my attention to plating. On one dish, I arranged the crisp, round arancini in a neat ring. On the other plate, the freshly prepared bruschetta, vibrant and fragrant. If I'd had more ingredients, I might've made a dipping sauce for the arancini, but honestly, they didn't need one.
Now came the moment of truth.
Let's see if the alcohol has dulled my coordination.
I gathered everything—the two plates balanced carefully in one arm, the pot of reheated Boeuf Bourguignon cradled securely in the other, a spoon tucked inside. With everything steady, I began my ascent back upstairs, each step deliberate, my body moving smoothly despite the alcohol that lingered faintly in my system.
Not a drop spilled. So far, so good.
I returned upstairs without issue, the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter growing louder as I approached.
The moment I stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted slightly—eyes turned toward me and the plates in my hands.
A chorus of excitement followed.
"Ooooh, more food!" someone exclaimed eagerly, the energy in the room instantly spiking again.
I walked over and placed the arancini and bruschetta down at the center, just as the group began to gather around like moths to a flame. The aroma alone caught everyone's attention.
"What is this?" Yoshino leaned in, eyes gleaming with curiosity, her nose nearly touching the arancini. "It smells ridiculously good!"
"Wait—are these arancini?" Marui asked, adjusting his glasses as he examined the golden, crisp balls.
I gave a short nod. "Yes. Italian rice balls. I used the risotto from earlier, stuffed them with mozzarella, then deep-fried the whole thing."
"Oh-ho?" Isshiki, still in his same attire, appeared behind someone's shoulder with a gleam of curiosity. "An evolution of your earlier dish?"
Sakaki tilted her head, intrigued. "Previous dish?"
"For the dorm entrance challenge," Isshiki explained with a grin, "Kiyotaka-kun prepared a full Italian meal. His risotto was the centerpiece."
"Italian cuisine, huh..." Sakaki mused, clearly impressed.
Meanwhile, Sōma, having absorbed enough information to justify action, grabbed one without hesitation and bit into it. The crunch echoed slightly, followed by the gooey stretch of mozzarella as he pulled back.
"This is dangerous," he said between chews, eyes half-lidded in delight. "Crispy on the outside, gooey and flavorful on the inside. I could devour a hundred of these easily."
Yoshino lunged before he could reach for another. "Oh no, you don't! These are going into my emergency stash!" She snatched three in one motion, then handed one to Sakaki. "Here, you've got to try."
Sakaki accepted it delicately and took a bite. She twitched. Her pupils sparkled. "Mmm~ Mmmmm~..." she exhaled in a breathy moan, tilting her head back like she was basking in the sun. "Wow. The balance is perfect. The texture's spot on. And it's not greasy at all."
"Megumi, have some!" Yoshino coaxed, while jamming one into her mouth with the desperation of someone chasing salvation. While Yoshino's face twisted into ecstasy, Megumi looked flustered, looking eager to try one out.
Megumi, though still a little pink in the face, took one gently. After a pause to gather herself, she took a cautious nibble.
Her eyes widened.
"It's... incredible," she whispered, her voice nearly drowned out by the chatter around her. She stared at the arancini in her hand like it had just given her emotional support.
"I... I feel like I'm wrapped in a warm mozzarella hug..."
As soon as the others had taken their turn, Satō and Aoki lunged for the plate like starving beasts.
"GREAT HEAVENS!" Satō shouted, collapsing backwards. "I want this as my last meal!"
"If I die tonight, it was worth it!" Aoki shouted through a mouthful.
I calmly took a seat, watching the chaos unfold.
One tray of rice balls, and I'd somehow sparked a divine awakening.
As the plate filled with arancini became empty, the attention turned to the bruschetta.
Marui was the first to inquire about the second plate. "Hey, wait—this is bruschetta?"
"Yep," I replied.
He took a bite and blinked, surprised at the burst of fresh tomato, basil, and garlic, all resting on a toasted slice of ciabatta.
"Okay... okay, now this is just unfair."
After Maruis' reaction, the rest surged toward the plate like a pack of starving wolves, each managing to snatch a slice of bruschetta.
They bit in unison, and time came to a screeching halt.
The crunch of the toasted bread gave way to the juicy sweetness of the tomatoes, the sharp tang of garlic, and the fragrance of the basil, all dancing in unison on their tongues.
"MMMGHHHHH—! THIS IS ILLEGAL!" Satō howled, gripping his own face.
"It's like summer exploded in my mouth!" Aoki shouted, nearly tearing up.
Yoshino tossed a slice into her mouth and then practically collapsed back onto the bed, clutching her stomach like she'd just been delivered salvation. "I'm ascending~!"
Sakaki bit hers daintily, her reaction more subdued—until she pressed a hand to her cheek with a soft flush. "The balance of acidity and sweetness... the oil, the garlic... mmm~ It's unfair how good this is."
"How can something this basic taste this good?!" Marui groaned, already going in for seconds.
While the others spiraled into exaggerated bliss, I quietly turned to my revived Boeuf Bourguignon.
I lifted a spoonful to my lips and took a bite.
The bold aroma of red wine hit first, deep and fragrant and much more overwhelming than our prepared one in class.
The earlier saltiness was gone, diluted and mellowed into something rich, rounded, and balanced.
I dipped another spoonful calmly, letting the distant sounds of moans, declarations of love for tomatoes, and cheers of culinary ecstasy fade into the background.
As I ate in quiet satisfaction, the last few pieces of bruschetta vanished from the plate, snatched up in a flurry of eager hands and satisfied sighs. With nothing else to feast on, eyes around the room gradually shifted toward the pot resting next to me.
Yoshino leaned in, sniffing the air with a curious tilt of her head. "Huh? That's the French stew, right? Uh.. what was it called again?"
Isshiki, still in his apron, flashed his usual grin. "Boeuf Bourguignon," he answered. "Chapelle-sensei made us cook it too last year. A classic."
Megumi scooted a bit closer, blinking in confusion as she peered into the pot. "W-Wait... Kiyotaka-kun, is this the stew from today? Isn't it way too salty? There was nothing left of our correct try..."
Sakaki picked up on the contradiction immediately. "Hold on. You made another batch?" She narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued. "This one looks perfectly finished. But how? There wasn't nearly enough time left to start over. What exactly happened?"
Megumi hesitated, scratching her cheek nervously. "Um... well... our first stew was actually... sabotaged..."
The room went still.
Even Isshiki, who had been lounging with casual amusement, blinked and straightened slightly. The shift in atmosphere was immediate.
"Sabotaged?" Sakaki echoed, her tone dropping.
Megumi nodded. "A student snuck over to our station and dumped in a bunch of salt when we weren't looking."
"What the hell?" Satō frowned. "That's messed up!"
Aoki slammed a fist into his palm. "Who was it? We'll go 're-educate' 'em!"
"No need," I said flatly. "They've already been expelled."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room.
Ibusaki's voice was barely above a whisper. "So someone already got expelled... on the very first day."
Sōma let out a small cough and corrected him. "Two, actually."
"Two?!" A few heads turned with renewed surprise.
I nodded, offering clarification. "His partner was in on it. They were both removed from the academy immediately."
The group went quiet for a beat, the weight of those words settling in. Expulsion wasn't a distant threat here—it was immediate and absolute.
Sōma looked over at me, curious. "So, how'd you fix the stew?"
"It was simple," I said. "Red wine to dilute the salt and a touch of cornstarch to bring the sauce back to the right consistency. The original base was still intact—it just needed to be rebalanced."
Yoshino's hand shot up like we were back in class, her eyes gleaming. "Ooooh, sensei~ Can I try it?"
I held the pot forward and offered her my spoon. "Be my guest."
She scooped a small taste and blew on it before bringing it to her lips. A second later, her eyes widened, and her entire posture straightened like she'd been jolted by electricity.
Sakaki let out a soft laugh, her tone playful as she watched Yoshino slurp the stew.
"Ara~ Yūki-chan~ You're awfully bold, huh? An indirect kiss on the first day?" she teased, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Yoshino choked mid-chew, nearly coughing the stew back into the bowl. "Wha—?!"
Megumi, already red from earlier, turned an even deeper shade. "K-K-Kiss?!"
Her voice cracked with panic, and she flailed slightly as if the idea itself had physically struck her.
Sōma raised an eyebrow. "Huh? That's a thing?"
"Cultural nuance, Sōma-kun," Isshiki chimed in smoothly from his corner, smile unfading. "A shared utensil can carry the weight of romance, mystery, or just a very intense misunderstanding."
Yoshino waved both hands frantically. "W-Wait, wait! It's not like that! I didn't even think about it! It's just stew!"
"Stew of betrayal," Satō whispered dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.
Yoshino let out a dramatic groan and flopped backward onto the bed like a stage actress in her final scene, her hand flung across her forehead. "You're all the worst!" she declared, though her wide grin betrayed her enjoyment of the chaos.
Satō gave a mock bow. "We do our best."
Yoshino sat up just in time to grab another spoonful of stew. "Anyway, this tastes amazing, but the wine is seriously strong. Like, really strong. How much did you pour in?"
I glanced at her. "Almost a full bottle."
A sudden hush fell over the group.
"An entire bottle?!" Marui repeated, blinking as if he'd misheard.
"Are you insane?!" Yoshino cried, eyes wide.
What they didn't know—and what I certainly didn't plan to mention—was that I'd only reheated the stew for a few minutes, meaning the alcohol hadn't even evaporated.
They didn't need to know that.
I gave a noncommittal shrug, retrieved the spoon, and returned to my meal in silence as they processed the revelation, their murmurs blending back into the room's familiar, chaotic chatter.
As time passed, the room remained alive with laughter, spirited chatter, and the shuffle of cards hitting the floor during another clumsy play. It was strange—genuinely strange—how comfortable I felt among these people. Fun, as a concept, was not something I often entertained, let alone actively participated in.
At Advanced Nurturing High School, there had been moments I enjoyed, of course. Fleeting ones, but nothing quite like this. Nothing this... genuine.
I thought of the parties I've been to back then. At the beginning of the school year, the awkward gatherings in my room. Kushida, Horikita, Sudo, Ike, and Yamauchi. The atmosphere had been forced and unpleasant.
Even the cruise ship event with Ichinose's class, after the second exam, came to mind. I had never felt truly present there, especially with that all-girls gathering.
But here, in this eccentric dorm filled with equally eccentric people, things felt different.
A small smile threatened to creep up my lips, before it was interrupted by the calling of my name.
"Ayanokoji-kun."
A nudge pulled me from my thoughts.
Apparently, this wasn't the first time someone had tried to get my attention. Odd. I hadn't even noticed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the now-empty pot beside me. The warmth in my body, the subtle drowsiness settling over my limbs... the alcohol was definitely having its effect.
"Ayanokoji-kun!"
This time the voice was more direct. I looked up to find Aoki grinning at me, the rest of the room now watching in amusement.
"Yes?" I asked evenly.
He chuckled, clearly enjoying whatever idea had just taken root in his head.
"I've been wondering," he said, laughter bubbling in his voice. "Are you really human? Prove it! Do something illogical for once!"
The room erupted in laughter.
I paused for a moment and then stood up without a word. My body moved before thought could catch up—blame the alcohol, perhaps.
Stepping toward the nearby counter, I opened a container.
Gasps rippled through the group. They all recognized it.
Without a single flicker of hesitation, I grabbed a pair of chopsticks, reached in, and plucked out a portion of the monstrosity that lay within.
A moment of horror flashed across their faces as they realized what I was about to do.
"KIYOTAKA-KUN, NOOO!" Megumi screamed, her voice cracking.
"BRO, STOP! STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU PROVED YOURSELF!" Satō stood up as if trying to physically intercept me.
"MY MAN'S A MADMAN!" Aoki shouted, laughing and panicking all at once.
I ignored all of them.
The moment the chopsticks passed my lips and the taste hit my tongue, a deep frown settled over my face. My hand instinctively shot up to cover my mouth.
The room fell silent for a split second.
"This..." I murmured, my voice lower than usual, "...was a mistake."
And then—
"HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Sōma burst out laughing, literally doubling over.
"He believes in me!" he cried triumphantly, pumping a fist into the air.
Around him, the room spiraled into hysteria.
"I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING SO BRAVE AND SO STUPID AT THE SAME TIME!"
"HE'S LOST HIS MIND—THE FOOD TOOK HIS SOUL!"
I slowly sat back down, feeling the phantom taste still clinging to my tongue like a curse.
"Human enough for you?" I asked Aoki dryly, while reaching for my cup in an attempt to wash away my regrets.
Aoki collapsed in laughter. "That was the most human thing I've ever seen."
Megumi looked on in horror, hands clasped in prayer. "Rest in peace, Kiyotaka-kun..."
Sōma just gave me a proud nod, as if I had somehow passed an invisible trial.
Maybe I had.
***
A/N: Let's do a cut here; the chapter is longer than I initially planned, but I hope you all like it! A bit of slice of life and chaos of the dorm before we proceed with Tōtsuki.
I wanted to upload more, but you all probably know how it is. Time didn't really allow me to write, but well, enough about that, till next time!