Shun stepped back onto the Yokohama streets he'd left for nearly half a month. The city noise felt… jarring.
People hurried past; hawkers shouted about today's specials—a sharp contrast to the quiet of Shokurin Temple.
"Gone less than two weeks, and I'm already not used to this," he murmured.
He rubbed his nose. After Food Honor training, his sense of smell had sharpened absurdly.
Scents braided together—takoyaki from a stall, oden drifting out of a convenience store, pepper and numbing spice pricking the air.
"Shun!"
A familiar voice rang from behind. He turned—Miyoko was jogging over.
She wore the Totsuki uniform, purple ponytail bouncing, the chest badge catching sunlight.
"Miyoko? How—"
"Your father told me you were back today!"
Panting a little, she said, "Tomorrow's the transfer exam and you—huh?"
She paused, scanning him up and down. "You're… different."
So fast?
"Am I? I don't feel any different," he smiled.
"Where did you vanish to for half a month?" Miyoko leaned closer.
"I went to a deep mountain temple to train my cooking. Believe that?" Shun said.
Miyoko rolled her eyes. "Not a chance."
He didn't want to bring up Shokurin Temple, so he changed the subject. "Right—what's tomorrow's schedule?"
"Knew you'd forget. Nine a.m., Totsuki High Division building—transfer intake exam. Don't be late," Miyoko said.
Shun nodded. "Got it. I'll ping you when I arrive. I'm heading home first."
"Wait."
Miyoko poked his shoulder. "Hey, you—half a month gone and acting all mysterious?"
Shun only waved, smile tugging at his lips. "See you tomorrow, Miyoko."
Watching his back recede, Miyoko bit her lower lip.
"Feels like he got stronger…"
…
Shun pushed into the family restaurant.
"I'm back."
Inside, Father sat at a corner table with a cup of tea.
"Mm."
He didn't lift his head, just kept paging through the ledger.
Shun was long used to that, and moved toward the backyard.
As he passed, Father spoke.
"You've changed a lot these two weeks."
The voice was soft—but it made Shun stop cold.
"…"
He stayed quiet.
Anyone who knew him could tell; he just hadn't decided how to explain.
Father set down the ledger and looked up, not prying. "Confident for tomorrow?"
Shun nodded. "No problem."
"Good."
He turned, placed a bank card on the table. "Here's living expenses. Miyoko said Totsuki has no dorms. Find a place nearby—commuting wastes time."
Yokohama to Totsuki wasn't far—an hour by car.
Shun glanced at the card; his fingers tightened slightly.
His father was always like this—cool on the surface, everything quietly handled.
"I don't need it."
He slid the card back. "I've got pocket money for now. If I can't even support myself at Totsuki, what kind of chef am I?"
Father went silent a moment, then said, "Take it. You're still growing. Buy something nutritious—it won't hurt."
Shun meant to refuse, but finally pocketed the card.
Father had always been a man of few words; after Mother passed, even more so.
Shun didn't want to make him worry. "Okay. I'll use it well."
Father's gaze lingered on his face, as if to say something else. In the end he only murmured, "Mm," and returned to the ledger.
Shun headed to the back, to his room.
When he slid the door, a mild sun-warm scent greeted him. Father had clearly been cleaning and airing it out.
On the desk lay a stack of new cooking notebooks; beside them, a still-warm lunch canister. Inside—braised pork, his favorite style.
"I never said a word," Shun breathed, smiling despite himself as warmth rose in his chest.
He polished off the pork and began to pack.
The special ingredients from Shokurin Temple went in carefully.
When his fingers brushed the Blade of Food Honor, the metal pulsed with a faint light, answering his touch.
Outside, the sunset washed Yokohama in gold.
Shun stood at the window, looking in Totsuki's direction.
He'd wrestled with a question at Shokurin Temple:
With a system in hand and passage to a high-tier gourmet world like Toriko… why bother with Totsuki at all?
But he couldn't disappoint Father. This was a hope he'd carried for years.
…
Dawn, the next day.
Shun left Yokohama before first light.
"So this is Totsuki Academy…"
Before eight, he was already at the main gate.
Morning sun rimmed the old gate in gold.
He went in, following the signs toward the High Division building.
Students in Totsuki uniforms passed by—and many outsiders like him.
"Hm?"
On the way, he stopped. Two students were chatting on a bench.
"My name's Nikaido Keiaki. My family runs a French restaurant."
"Hey, I'm Soma Yukihira."
Right there, on the bench—the red spiky hair was unmistakable. Soma.
The other one—an extra from the story.
Shun hadn't expected to bump into this scene.
"A Yukihira… Japanese eatery?" the other asked.
"Haha, nothing big—just a small-town place…"
Before Soma finished, Nikaido shot to his feet—
—and stepped away.
"A guy from a common diner wants into this place? You're joking, right?"
He pointed at Soma and raised his voice, "Listen up! This academy isn't for people like you! This is sacred ground—only those born to culinary high society have the right to study here!"
Shun didn't keep walking.
"Oh? Is that so?" he said, stepping forward.
…
(End of Chapter)
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