Chapter 176: People Are Not Strong
The pristine, polished corridors of Totsuki Culinary Academy were usually a place of rigid discipline, echoing with the rhythmic chopping of knives and the high-pressure sizzle of pans. However, today, the cadence was broken by the frantic, rapid clicking of heels against the marble floor.
"Erina-sama! Please, wait! You're going too fast!"
Arato Hisako struggled to keep up, her breathing ragged as she clutched her clipboard to her chest like a shield. Her legs burned from the exertion, but the golden-haired figure ahead of her showed no signs of slowing down.
Nakiri Erina didn't stop. She couldn't.
She had pulled Hisako out of their practical lecture with a haste that defied her usual elegant, composed demeanor. Her long, honey-blonde hair whipped behind her like a golden banner of war as she took a sharp corner, her amethyst eyes scanning the sea of passing students with laser-like intensity. They hadn't seen him yet—not directly—but she was absolutely certain.
Ren was here.
"I heard it, Hisako," Erina said, her voice tight with a mixture of excitement and urgency, though she didn't turn her head. "That voice... it was definitely Shopkeeper Ren. And that distinctive speech pattern—repeating the first word three times—that has to be Cerberus."
"But... Erina-sama, we're in the middle of a lecture!" Hisako protested weakly, dodging a startled male student carrying a crate of vegetables. "If we miss the credits for the thick soup module..."
"It doesn't matter!" Erina cut in, her tone leaving no room for argument. She finally slowed to a brisk, purposeful walk as they approached the administrative wing, her chest heaving slightly to regulate her breathing. "Shopkeeper Ren mentioned finding the Director. If he's here to teach a special class or conduct a seminar, missing it would be a loss far greater than skipping a single lecture on starch viscosity. We have to find him."
"Mhm!" Hisako nodded firmly, her loyalty instantly overriding her academic anxiety. If Erina-sama said it was important, then it was the most important thing in the world.
Erina smoothed the front of her uniform, her mind racing. Ren appearing at Totsuki was a rare event, almost like a mythical creature descending from a mountain. Was he here to challenge someone? To judge a Shokugeki? Or perhaps... to cook? The mere thought of tasting his cooking again made her stomach flutter in a way that had nothing to do with hunger.
Meanwhile, inside the spacious, oak-paneled office of the Director, the atmosphere was far more sedate, though no less tense.
Senzaemon Nakiri sat behind his massive mahogany desk, a fortress of paperwork threatening to consume him. The 'Demon King of Food' frowned, his bushy eyebrows knitting together as he scrutinized a report from the Ingredient Procurement Department. The afternoon sun filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows across the room and illuminating dust motes dancing in the quiet air.
"Hmm? This ingredient department report seems to be missing something..." Senzaemon muttered to himself, the gravelly vibration of his voice breaking the silence. He tapped a thick finger against the paper. The numbers didn't add up. It wasn't just a minor discrepancy; it was a glaring hole in the logistics.
"Is it missing a page?"
A calm, familiar voice drifted from the sofa area, casual and unbothered.
"Mhm! It feels like the quantity is off by more than half," Senzaemon replied instinctively, his mind still deeply buried in the columns of numbers.
"Here~"
A hand, slender and pale, slid a single sheet of paper onto the desk, placing it precisely on top of the report Senzaemon was reading.
Senzaemon blinked. He picked up the new sheet, glanced at the summarized data, and nodded slowly. "Ah, yes, this completes the... wait."
He froze. The realization hit him a second later. He wasn't alone. And his secretary certainly didn't sound like a young man.
He looked up sharply.
Sitting comfortably on the black leather sofa opposite his desk was a young man with silver hair that seemed to catch the sunlight, giving him an ethereal glow. He was peeling a mandarin orange with relaxed, practiced movements, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. The sharp, sweet scent of citrus zest suddenly cut through the smell of old paper and ink in the room.
"It really is you, kid!" Senzaemon's stern face broke into a genuine, hearty smile, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. He dropped the report and leaned back into his chair, the tension in his massive shoulders evaporating instantly. "Why are you at Totsuki today? You didn't sneak in to cause trouble, did you? Or... are you finally here to accept my offer to teach a class?"
Ren popped a segment of the orange into his mouth, chewing slowly before answering. He had sent Lucifer and Cerberus off to explore the campus earlier. With Lucifer managing the energetic Hellhound, Ren wasn't worried about them causing a scene—or rather, he wasn't worried about Cerberus biting anyone. As for the students' mental health after seeing them... well, that was a different matter entirely.
"Of course not, old man," Ren said, swallowing the sweet fruit. "Familiarity is familiarity, but you can't just order people around like that~ I'm just a humble restaurant owner, remember?"
Senzaemon chuckled, shaking his head. "I knew you'd say that. So, if not for work, why honor us with your presence?"
Ren tossed the orange peel into a nearby bin with the accuracy of a marksman. "Miss Nakiri Mana and the others are coming over tonight, right? The dinner rush is going to be chaotic."
Senzaemon nodded, his expression turning slightly more serious at the mention of his daughter.
"I originally planned to go out for a leisurely walk during the day," Ren continued, leaning back and crossing his legs. "But Lucifer insisted that with my 'curse'—the one where customers swarm the moment I try to eat—I shouldn't expect a proper dinner if I stay at the shop. So, she kicked me out. She told me to go somewhere not too far so I could get back early to prep."
"So you, kid, ran to Totsuki," Senzaemon concluded, an amused glint in his eyes. "You're planning to have dinner here too, aren't you? And knowing you, you're probably planning to hitch a ride back with me."
"Bingo," Ren grinned, pointing a finger at the Director. "Mr. Yukihira mentioned that you, old man, might be heading to my place tonight as well. So, it made sense. You don't mind me freeloading a meal here, do you?"
"Hahaha! Of course not!" Senzaemon laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "In fact, I couldn't be happier. Having you here is a rare opportunity. If you eat our food, perhaps you can give us some suggestions. It's a good chance to improve."
"That shouldn't be a problem," Ren said casually. He stood up and walked over to the desk, glancing down at the report Senzaemon had been agonizing over. He tapped a specific line. "Oh, by the way, old man, your ingredient procurement this time is missing two items specifically."
Senzaemon froze. He picked up the report again, following Ren's finger.
"Hmm? It's chicken... and butter..." Senzaemon frowned deeply, stroking his beard. "Huge quantities of poultry and dairy missing from the inventory... and no record of it being used for any official class. Looks like I should ask the department head about it. You, kid..."
"It really is Shopkeeper Ren!"
The shout came from the hallway, muffled by the heavy oak door but unmistakable in its pitch.
Senzaemon paused, listening to the approaching footsteps. He smiled knowingly. "Alright! Since you're here to have fun today, I won't bore you with administrative headaches. Go on."
Ren nodded. "I'll take a look around. See you later, old man."
As Ren walked out, closing the door softly behind him, Senzaemon watched him go. He then turned his gaze to a framed photograph on his desk—a picture of a family that had long been fractured. A hint of anticipation softened his aged, stern features.
"Mana..." he whispered to the silent room. "She should be heading to the airport now, right... Hmph.... I really am getting sentimental in my old age..."
The moment Ren stepped out of the Director's office, he was met with a gust of wind and a flash of blonde hair.
"Shopkeeper Ren!"
Erina skidded to a halt just inches from him, her face flushed a delicate shade of pink from the exertion. Beside her, Hisako was panting lightly, trying to maintain her composure but clearly winded.
Ren looked at the two of them, amused. "How did you two know I was here? And why were you running so fast? Is there a fire?"
As he spoke, he noticed a lock of Erina's hair had come loose from her usual pristine style, sticking up slightly due to her sprint. Without thinking, Ren reached out. His fingers gently brushed against her temple as he tucked the stray strand back behind her ear.
Erina froze. The sensation of his warm fingers against her skin sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. Her blush deepened, spreading to the tips of her ears. She stood rigid, afraid that if she moved, he would pull away.
"There," Ren smiled, withdrawing his hand. "Much better."
Erina cleared her throat, trying to regain her voice. "B-because... just now, Shopkeeper Ren, you and Cerberus passed by our classroom. We heard you."
Ren paused, tilting his head slightly as he recalled the path he had taken. "Ah, that classroom on the second floor? The one talking about the method for thick soup?"
"Yes!" Erina nodded eagerly.
Ren chuckled. "Quite an interesting teacher. So, you two skipped class just to chase a ghost?"
Erina stiffened. Skipping class was a mark against her perfectionist nature, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. "Eh? Interesting? Shopkeeper Ren, Hisako and I... we always felt that the thick soup method taught here was a bit strange. It lacks... depth."
Ren began to walk down the corridor, and the two girls fell into step beside him naturally. The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the pillars of the open hallway.
"It is indeed strange," Ren admitted, his tone shifting to a more professional, culinary register. "But it can't be said to be 'wrong' in the textbook sense. It can only be said that it's still far from perfect. If you make thick soup strictly following those parameters—focusing purely on the ratio of roux to stock—it will only be 'thick'."
He gestured with his hand as if stirring a pot. "The essence of a true thick soup isn't viscosity. It's that rich, mellow feeling that coats the tongue without weighing it down. It's about the emulsification of fats and the concentration of flavor, not just adding starch to glue it together. A soup should glide, not stick."
Erina nodded fervently, her eyes shining. This was what she craved—not the rote memorization of the academy, but the insight that only a true master could provide.
"Shopkeeper Ren!" she asked, unable to contain her hope. "Are you here to teach today? Is that why you saw Grandfather?"
Looking at Erina's expectant face, which looked so much like a puppy waiting for a treat, Ren laughed and shook his head. "Of course not. I'm just an ordinary Restaurant owner. Teaching students? I'm not very good at that. I lack the patience for grading papers."
"Then..."
"I just had nowhere to go today," Ren shrugged. "And I also wanted to find a place to solve the problem of dinner, so I came here."
"Eh?!" Erina stopped walking, shocked. "Shopkeeper Ren, you're going to have dinner here? At the student cafeteria?"
"Is that a problem?"
"But..." Erina stammered, "The food here... it is far inferior to what you make, Shopkeeper Ren! How could you possibly tolerate it?"
Ren stopped and turned to look at her. His expression was gentle, yet serious. "Erina. You're overthinking it. The essence of food, at its very beginning, is just to fill your stomach. It is fuel for life. Only on that foundation are delicious flavors and amazing textures added."
He looked out over the campus grounds, watching students bustling about. "Sometimes, eating is just eating. It doesn't always have to be a symphony. Sometimes, a simple rice ball is enough."
Erina nodded slowly. Although she didn't quite understand—her God Tongue made "just eating" a near impossibility—she couldn't refute him. Given Ren's skill, if he said the sky was green, she would likely squint until she saw a tint of emerald.
Ren stretched his arms above his head, enjoying the breeze. "Hmm~ Where should I go for a stroll.... Erina, you two should go back to class soon. The lecture isn't over yet, is it?"
Erina shook her head without a second thought. "Shopkeeper Ren, we don't have to go to class anyway. We've already mastered the material. And instead of sitting there listening to things we already know, it's better to follow Shopkeeper Ren. After all... I have a lot of questions I want to ask."
Hisako nodded in agreement, clutching her clipboard. "We would learn much more from you."
"Alright~" Ren chuckled, accepting his new entourage. "Then, let's—Eh?"
He stopped mid-sentence. His gaze was drawn to a secluded area of the courtyard, near a small stone fountain shaded by trees.
"Are those students over there...?"
Erina followed his gaze. In the shadow of a large cherry blossom tree, sitting alone on a cold stone bench, was a girl. She had dark blue hair tied in two low braids, and her shoulders were shaking.
Even from this distance, the aura of despair radiating from her was palpable. She looked small, fragile, as if the world were a heavy weight crushing her down.
Ren narrowed his eyes slightly. His hearing, sharpened by his cultivation, picked up the girl's quiet, sobbing murmurs carried by the wind.
"What should I do... I got an E again..."
The girl's voice was thick with tears, trembling with fear.
"If it happens one more time... I'll be expelled! I'll be kicked out of Totsuki..."
She buried her face in her hands, her fingers gripping her hair tightly.
"But I don't want to leave.... Mom... everyone back home... what should I do...?"
Ren watched her silently. The girl was on the verge of collapsing. It wasn't just about a grade; it was the terror of disappointed expectations, the crushing burden of carrying a family's hopes, and the sheer, paralyzing fear of failure.
In a place like Totsuki, where strength and perfection were worshipped, weakness was a sin. But Ren knew better.
He looked at the girl's trembling back. Sometimes helplessness is that simple; just a single letter grade on a piece of paper can be the last straw that breaks a person's spirit.
People are not as strong as they imagine.
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