Chapter 41 – Isshiki the Gluttonous Kouhai
The four of them arrived together at a high-end apartment, took the elevator to the 15th floor, then turned right and arrived at Yukinoshita Yukino's residence.
"Since we're short on time, I'll leave tonight's dinner to you, Shirou," Yukinoshita said as she tied her long hair back into a single ponytail. She picked up a plain apron printed with orange-red cat patterns and handed it to Shirou.
"Alright, leave it to me. Let's go with something easy and delicious—Japanese food tonight," Shirou replied as he took the apron and tied it around himself.
"No! Why is Shirou-senpai so naturally just cooking dinner here?!" Isshiki shouted in protest.
"It's pretty normal for classmates or club juniors to come over and help cook and have dinner together, isn't it?" Shirou asked, genuinely confused.
Why were both his kouhais acting like this was some huge deal?
Isshiki Iroha puffed her cheeks and shouted, "It's not normal at all~! Why would a classmate be cooking at my house?! If anything, senpai should come to my place every day and cook for me!"
Isshiki couldn't help but feel like there was a generational gap between herself and these people.
Even though they were just a year apart, she couldn't understand how their minds worked at all.
Even Yuigahama-senpai, whom she usually found easier to talk to, seemed to have been corrupted.
She was now casually sitting at the dining table, swinging her legs happily and excited for dinner like it was the most natural thing in the world.
This must be the unbridgeable gap between the popular, well-liked student council president and the Service Club that only got remembered when needed.
Wait… in this case, wasn't she the popular one?
"Are these ingredients okay?" Yukinoshita asked.
She was just assisting Shirou this time—though she wasn't happy about it, this was clearly the most efficient arrangement.
The girl pulled ingredients from the fridge: chicken breast, green peppers, bok choy, and a large slab of bacon. Since there were four people this time, the quantity was quite a bit more.
Shirou looked over the meat and vegetables and quickly decided on the menu in his mind. After checking the spices in the cupboard, he nodded and said, "Yep. We've got ginger, dried chili peppers, roasted peanuts—everything's here. Perfect!"
"I can't wait! Iroha-chan, both Shirou and Yukino's cooking is amazing, especially Shirou's," Yuigahama said with a big smile, resting her chin on her hands as she watched Shirou in his apron, bustling around. She was clearly excited for the meal.
"Is that so…? Looks like I underestimated you, senpai," Iroha narrowed her eyes as she observed the orange-red cat apron Shirou was wearing—it was obviously one size larger than the purple cat apron Yukinoshita wore.
Clearly, this apron had been bought just for him.
Yukinoshita sliced open a green pepper with a small knife and rinsed it clean under running water. Her ponytail swayed rhythmically with her movements.
Meanwhile, Shirou laid the chicken breast on the cutting board and sliced it cleanly with a kitchen knife into neat little cubes. He then seasoned the pieces with potato starch and marinade sauce.
After chopping the ginger and vegetables, preparing the dried chili and roasted peanuts, he heated oil in the wok. Once wisps of smoke rose, he swiftly tossed in the spices for a fragrant stir-fry, then added the chicken.
He flipped the wok with practiced ease, letting the meat roll inside without damaging its texture, allowing it to absorb the rich sauce and cook quickly and evenly.
"So impressive!" Isshiki Iroha exclaimed in admiration. She was fairly confident in her own cooking, so she knew just how skilled this guy was. Cooking books often say things like "add X tablespoons of this," "Y grams of that," "stir-fry Z times." The more professional ones even specify "stir for N seconds" and "add salt in M grams."
This level of instruction helps learners recreate restaurant-level dishes. It works well for Western cuisine.
But Japanese cuisine was a whole different story.
Ingredients were measured by scoops, not grams.
Rather than exact calculations, it relied heavily on intuition.
Through repeated practice, excellent Japanese chefs developed a sort of culinary sixth sense—an intuitive understanding of when to stir, how hot the flame should be, and how to balance the cooking.
Beyond ingredient freshness or whether it's farm-style cooking, everything else came down to the chef's understanding—how to handle the dish, how to manage the heat, and even how to slice the meat.
Before long, the main dish was done. Next came stir-fried greens. With Shirou's skilled hands, dinner was soon complete. Yukinoshita also finished preparing the rice and brought everything to the table on a tray.
When the colorful, fragrant, and mouthwatering spicy diced chicken was placed on the table, Iroha's mouth hung open in amazement.
"Shirou-senpai is actually this good at cooking? I thought he was just some nice guy who could shoot arrows and was easy to push around!"
"Hey, you said all that out loud, you know," Shirou warned.
But Iroha was already completely captivated by the food in front of her.
"Time to eat!" she said, picking up a piece of chicken paired with peanuts. Under the lighting, it glistened with oil and looked absolutely juicy. The spicy flavor brought out the rich aroma of the meat.
Whether it was the sheer deliciousness or just the shock of it all, something flipped in Iroha's brain. Her speech became unfiltered, and she completely forgot her social standing—though, in truth, she never really treated Shirou as a proper senpai anyway.
"So good! The slightly spicy chicken and its juices go perfectly with rice. If I keep eating like this, I'm going to get a belly! It's your fault! Hmph!" Yuigahama chimed in while enjoying the food, a look of bliss on her face. Then she made a fist and playfully punched Shirou.
"Hey, even if you do get a belly, that's not my fault, right?" Shirou protested. Cooking for girls like this, and they didn't even feel grateful? So this idea that 'guys who can cook are popular'—wasn't that just a lie made up by lazy girls who didn't want to cook?
Iroha, enchanted by the food, blurted out more of her inner thoughts.
"Uuugh, it's so good, I feel healed. Yukinoshita-senpai was like my dad today—super scary when she's mad."
"Pffft…" Shirou almost burst out laughing at that.
"..." The black-haired girl shot him a sharp glare.
"Here, eat more if you like it," Shirou said, hiding his laughter and placing another piece of chicken into Iroha's bowl as a reward.
"Uuugh, thank you. You giving me food like this… It's like you're my mom, Shirou-senpai…" Iroha said with heartfelt sincerity, fully immersed in the flavors.
"..." Shirou gloomily picked the meat back out of Iroha's bowl and returned it to his own.
"Pfft… hahaha…" This time it was Yukinoshita who couldn't help but laugh.
She covered her mouth to stifle the sound, but her body shook as she tried to hold it in.
"I kinda get it now… why so many girls wanted to sabotage Iroha-chan," Yuigahama said thoughtfully from the side.
After dinner, the boys and girls began preparing their strategy for the next day's meeting with the business high school.
.
.
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By the following afternoon, they were back in the conference room.
Shirou arrived at the opposing student council president's seat, carrying a huge stack of documents.
Thud!
A thick pile of papers slammed onto the table, making it shake slightly.
As the other side stared at him in dumbfounded silence, Shirou responded with a gentle smile.