A peculiar hush hung over the grand hall of Tōtsuki's Central Research Annex. It wasn't the silence of emptiness, but of anticipation. The whispers of students, the quiet hum of elite equipment, and the sharp clinks of refined silverware being unpacked for the upcoming Fall Elections all blended into a subdued symphony of focus and nerves.
Riku Kaizen stepped into the annex with a calm stride, a man at ease in the eye of a storm. Though most students were weighed down by the looming preliminaries, Riku's mind was elsewhere—focused on refining the final touches of his Lamb à la Forge and adapting its core techniques to other proteins. If he wanted to stay ahead of the curve, he had to be flexible.
He headed toward one of the annex's smaller prep kitchens, a familiar presence waiting at the door.
"Good morning," Erina greeted without looking up from the notepad in her hand "I already checked the schedule. No one else booked this room until the evening."
Riku gave a nod of thanks "I appreciate it, I need this time."
"You're not the only one," Erina said, her voice low but composed "Everyone's pushing themselves. Megumi told me she's been practicing past midnight every day. Even Takumi has been unusually silent."
"That's how you know it's serious," Riku replied, offering a subtle grin "When even the loud ones go quiet."
They entered the room together. The kitchen was modest by Tōtsuki standards—no gleaming chandeliers or gold-plated utensils—but it had everything that mattered. Precision burners, adjustable humidity ovens, variable-temperature freezers, and an entire wall of fresh ingredients carefully categorized. It was a space that respected the art.
Erina set her notepad aside and pulled her hair back into a practical tail "I brought something I'd like you to taste."
Riku raised a brow, surprised "You're asking me to critique your food?"
"Not asking," she corrected "Challenging."
That caught his attention. He followed her movements as she swiftly pulled out a container from her bag, unveiling a delicately plated dish that gleamed with faint pink hues and garnet-colored glazes.
"Sakura-Cured Sea Bream with Pomegranate Spheres," she announced "Minimalist aesthetic, seasonal harmony, and an interplay of sweetness and umami. Try it."
Riku took the plate with both hands—more out of respect than necessity. His fork cut into the soft fish, breaking through its pearlescent flesh without resistance. The aroma was faintly floral, layered with subtle salt and citrus.
He took a bite.
And paused.
Flavor notes rolled in one after the other—first the gentle salinity of the sea bream, then the delicate floral burst of sakura essence, rounded out by the tart, juicy pop of the pomegranate spheres that cleansed the palate with elegance.
"Balanced," he said finally "Maybe even too balanced."
Erina looked taken aback "Too balanced?"
"It's masterful," he clarified "But it's restrained. Like it's afraid to provoke the eater. There's beauty in calmness, but there's also strength in contrast."
She folded her arms and studied him "And what would you have done differently?"
Riku considered for a moment "I'd have used a bitter note—maybe charred citrus peel or a light fermented element—to give it an edge. Just a flicker of defiance to make the softness stand out even more."
Erina was silent for a few seconds, then slowly nodded "Interesting. That's… a fair observation."
He didn't miss the hint of admiration in her tone. She wasn't used to honest, constructive feedback—not from someone who didn't fear her culinary status. That made Riku Kaizen different. It made him real.
The door behind them clicked open.
They both turned.
Standing in the doorway was a tall figure clad in a sleek, modern chef's coat of black and gold trim. His presence immediately stole the air from the room. Short, dark auburn hair, golden eyes, and a smile that didn't quite reach them.
"Quite the scene," the newcomer said with silky amusement "Kaizen, Nakiri."
Erina's expression shifted, her posture straightening like a blade "Eizan?"
Riku narrowed his gaze "So you're the infamous Etsuya Eizan. I've heard things."
"All of them true, no doubt," Eizan replied, his tone dripping with arrogance "I thought I'd come to see the ones making waves before the Elections. Especially you, Kaizen. You've been quite the topic of conversation lately."
Riku didn't move "Flattered, but I don't cook for conversation."
Eizan smirked and stepped further inside, eyes scanning the dish Erina had prepared "Elegant, as always, Erina. Though I wonder if you've grown too soft, spending so much time with this… firebrand."
Erina's eyes turned cold "Get to the point, Eizan."
"Very well," he said, leaning against the nearby counter "I'm here to offer a bit of advice. You're both climbing fast. The Elections will be the first time the entire school watches you. That spotlight? It burns. Some thrive under it. Others melt."
Riku tilted his head "Sounds like a threat."
"It's a warning," Eizan corrected with mock innocence "One that might save you from embarrassment."
"Or it's fear disguised as condescension," Riku replied, meeting his eyes without flinching "You've seen what we're capable of, and you're trying to rattle us."
Eizan chuckled, pushing off the counter "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy a good view before the storm."
He walked to the door and paused "Let's see if that flame of yours can survive the coming wind, Kaizen."
And then he was gone.
Silence returned to the kitchen, heavier now. Erina let out a breath and turned to Riku.
"He's dangerous," she said "Not because of his skill—though it's sharp—but because he knows how to bend rules, manipulate judges, play mind games. He's a tactician."
Riku's jaw tightened "Then we don't give him the satisfaction of playing by his rules."
Erina nodded "Agreed. But we'll have to be careful. People like Eizan don't play fair. If he's marked you as a threat, he won't stop at words."
Riku returned to his station and began slicing into a fresh set of ingredients "Let him come. The more pressure he applies, the stronger I become. That's what the forge is for."
Erina watched him for a long moment before stepping to her own side of the kitchen and retrieving a new set of ingredients "Then let's both prepare to forge something unstoppable."
Their blades moved in unison, the clatter of steel and the hiss of flame rising to meet their resolve. The preliminaries were coming, and the stakes had never been higher.