Back in the kitchen, Hachiman quickly checked the ingredients he just got, but sadly...
"Miura really didn't leave me anything..."
To be honest, Hachiman had never really cooked before. Since he was little, he was always more of a food taster, eating Komachi's and his dad's dishes while also noticing their improvements over time.
There was even a part of his past he didn't like to recall—back when he couldn't tell what counted as a "failed dish," he once swallowed it down as if it were real food. That childhood memory stuck with him, making him afraid that anything he cooked himself would also end up like one of those disasters.
Still, to say Hachiman knew nothing about cooking would be totally wrong...
Every time they cooked, he was always watching from the side, so...
"Good thing they didn't find Komachi's fried rice. If I just heat it up a bit, it could still serve as the main dish."
If Miura outside knew that Hachiman was planning to serve her leftover fried rice, she'd probably storm in and start a fight with him.
Of course, keeping Komachi's fried rice wasn't because Hachiman was some kind of creepy sister-obsessed freak. He just predicted that a day like this might come, so... well, here it was.
The seafood he bought from the market was already dead, so the sooner it was used the better. Hachiman picked up a knife and, clumsy as ever, started working.
"Hey! Are you done yet? I've been waiting forever!" Miura, still sitting in the dining area, was already getting impatient.
Hachiman: "Almost..."
There's an unspoken rule in small diners: if you rush the cook, they'll spit in your food. But clearly, Hachiman wasn't that kind of low-level cook. He was very aware of how awful his knife skills were. To be exact, this was actually his first time ever holding a kitchen knife.
The problem still wasn't solved. Even with Komachi's fried rice, getting someone who normally refused to say "delicious" to actually mean it was tough. On top of that, he had no seasonings at all.
So...
Looking at the lobster and sunfish nearby, a new idea came to him.
He remembered his dad once showing him that when there's no seasoning, you can boil the raw ingredients and use the rich broth as a natural sauce. Then... maybe it would work with fried rice too.
If he added the broth into the rice, then kept frying it on higher heat so the broth blended fully, the final dish should come out with clear grains and a unique flavor.
No time to hesitate, Hachiman got right to work.
After preparing the king crab, he took Komachi's fried rice and started frying it again.
"If I remember right, Dad stirred the rice 99 times. Each stir took about three seconds, and after 251 seconds of high heat, that was the perfect timing to take it off the stove."
"At the 77th stir, I need to add the crushed crab meat and broth, then raise both the heat and the speed, stirring once per second..."
It sounded simple, but actually doing it was another story.
'Guess I should thank myself for biking to school all year round. Otherwise, just finishing this dish would have been impossible.'
He tried to imitate his dad's movements, but no matter what, he couldn't match his calm skill. He couldn't even keep up with the height or speed.
At times like this, Hikigaya couldn't help but admire his younger sister Komachi even more. For a girl, she really had amazing stamina. Truly impressive.
With the final stir, Hachiman poured all the rice neatly onto a shiny, clean plate, almost like serving a rice bowl.
"Looks like... this is the best I can make for now..."
He gently wiped the sweat from his forehead, and as he lifted the dish, Hachiman felt a strange wave of nervousness rising inside him.
But this nervousness didn't come from the pressure of being in a restaurant. It was the first time in his life that he felt, as a chef standing before his guests, the deep fear of not wanting to be denied.
With Miura and her assistant announcing his arrival, Hachiman finally stepped slowly out of the kitchen.
Miura's face still carried that smug smile:
"I thought you'd be too scared to do anything. But looks like you didn't run away this time, unlike after graduation."
Hachiman: "A well-trained loner doesn't repeat the same mistakes. A veteran of countless defeats is still the strongest at losing. But even I have things I can't let go of. For Komachi... this is the only way."
He lifted the metal lid. In an instant, the hall was filled with the sharp, briny scent of the deep sea. The smell of seafood surged into everyone's noses.
"Crab roe fried rice! Please enjoy."
The moment she saw the dish, Miura's face showed a shock she had never experienced before. Her body seemed unable to keep up its usual proud stance. Instead, she turned on her assistant with a hint of blame:
"Didn't you say all the ingredients were stolen?! How is there still rice?"
Assistant: "Impossible... We checked again and again. There was nothing left!"
The steaming aroma spread through the room. Even though it was just an ordinary fried rice, it carried such overwhelming force, like an army of thousands trampling across Miura, crashing against her again and again.
Before even tasting it, everyone's eyes were already locked on the fried rice in front of them, unable to look away.
Miura: "No way... No way... I've eaten so many five-star dishes! How could I be tempted by something as simple as crab roe fried rice!"
Hachiman: "If it's just for show, one bite will tell you."
A dish is called a dish not just because of how it looks. You can only know what's inside once you taste it. In that sense, it was the same as the 'genuine thing' Hachiman had always sought.
Only by trying it yourself can you truly taste its sourness, sweetness, bitterness, and spice. Only by feeling the impact of the dish can all falsehoods fall apart on their own.
As the spoons were placed beside each plate, both Miura and her assistant—almost against their own will—slowly picked them up and reached toward the beautifully crafted crab roe fried rice.
'This is it... it all comes down to this moment...'
'All those years of watching... maybe it was for this one instant...'