After the lobster was caught, it was immediately sent to the villa's freezer. Because of this rare and luxurious ingredient, everyone unanimously decided not to go out to eat. Instead, they would cook dinner together in the villa.
"Then I'll call and order some vegetables!"
Cooking together was actually a very enjoyable activity, and it was also a great way to strengthen bonds. Even though Yaoyorozu wasn't particularly skilled in the kitchen, she still spoke with enthusiasm.
This time, no one objected. Previously, Yaoyorozu hadn't wanted to trouble everyone, but now that they were all participating together, she felt much more at ease.
Kurosawa Yoru had already begun inspecting the kitchen, familiarizing herself with the layout and the locations of the utensils, clearly preparing to show off her skills.
Before long, a delivery truck loaded with fresh seafood and vegetables arrived at the villa's entrance.
"This is… way too much, isn't it?"
Looking at the sheer quantity—enough to feed everyone for an entire week—Masata felt a little embarrassed.
"It's fine," Yaoyorozu replied calmly. "If we can't finish it, we'll just put it in the freezer. Besides, the housekeeper has to eat too."
She didn't mind at all. After all, this villa was usually maintained by live-in staff, so stocking up on ingredients was completely normal.
"Well, I'm officially out of the kitchen," Masata declared. "My cooking limit is instant noodles."
After helping carry everything inside, he collapsed onto the sofa with a dramatic expression, clearly planning not to move again until dinner was ready.
"Hmph! We weren't expecting you anyway," Yaoyorozu said proudly. "This time, we have Chef Kurosawa Yoru!"
As she spoke, she hooked her arm around Kurosawa Yoru's. She had only recently learned that Kurosawa Yoru was actually an excellent cook—good enough to rival restaurant chefs.
"That's right! I'll be in charge of tonight's dinner!"
Kurosawa Yoru raised a fist enthusiastically. "Chef Kurosawa Yoru, let's go!"
Since it was already getting late, everyone quickly got to work.
Yaoyorozu stood nervously in front of a fish on the cutting board. The fish was still very much alive, its tail flapping wildly and splashing water everywhere.
"I—I'll cut the fish…"
Seeing her hesitation, Chacha quickly set down the green peppers she had just washed and trotted over.
Because of her family background, Chacha had at least some experience in the kitchen. While her overall cooking skills were average, tasks like cleaning and cutting fish were well within her abilities. Yaoyorozu, on the other hand, had grown up as a sheltered young lady—knives were not something she was familiar with.
Chacha pressed the struggling fish firmly onto the cutting board with practiced ease, then turned and said gently,
"Why don't you go cut the green peppers instead, Yaoyorozu? I washed them already."
"Huh? O-Okay."
Grateful to have a clear task, Yaoyorozu picked up a kitchen knife and moved to the peppers.
Nearby, Asui quietly washed rice. Mina, meanwhile, was locked in a desperate battle with an onion—tears streaming down her face, clearly losing the fight.
As the head chef of the evening, Kurosawa Yoru took charge of the main event: the wild lobster.
Using a specialized knife, she cleanly split the shell, removed the meat, and began slicing rapidly. Her blade flashed in quick succession, leaving behind nothing but afterimages.
Thin slices of lobster meat flew through the air like cherry blossom petals, as if guided by invisible threads. After tracing elegant arcs, they landed neatly in the tray beside her.
She was making lobster sashimi.
Sashimi was a classic seaside delicacy—fresh ingredients, delicate texture, paired with soy sauce and wasabi. Simple, nutritious, and incredibly delicious.
"Kurosawa Yoru's knife skills are amazing…"
Her elegant movements naturally drew everyone's attention. Yaoyorozu watched the most intently.
Especially because, on her side, she realized something tragic—
She couldn't slice the green peppers into shreds at all. Only uneven chunks.
"Ow!"
Too focused, she accidentally cut her finger.
The sharp cry from the kitchen immediately caught Masata's attention. He glanced over and saw Yaoyorozu holding her finger and blowing on it anxiously.
"What happened? Did you cut yourself?"
He stood up and walked into the kitchen. Yaoyorozu frowned slightly, clearly in pain. Looking down, Masata saw a thin line of blood forming at her fingertip.
"I accidentally cut my finger while chopping vegetables…"
Yaoyorozu glanced at him, then lowered her head. "It's just a little bit. I'm fine."
"Oh. That's good."
Seeing that it was only a minor injury, Masata responded casually and turned to leave.
After all, students at U.A. weren't ordinary girls. Minor injuries during training were common—this barely counted as anything.
"That's it? That's all you have to say?"
"You really don't care at all!"
"It seems we were wrong about Masata…"
Suddenly, murmurs of condemnation rose behind him. There was even the faint sound of sniffling.
Masata froze and turned around.
All the girls were staring at him. Yaoyorozu's eyes were red, tears visibly welling up.
"…What?!"
Masata was completely stunned. He genuinely didn't understand—this kind of wound wouldn't even register for him. Why was she crying?
But faced with the girls' accusatory gazes, he felt an unexpected pressure.
"Come here," he said at last. "I'll help you treat the wound."
Stepping forward, he gently took Yaoyorozu's arm and led her out of the kitchen, closing the door behind them.
"Give me your hand."
Yaoyorozu hesitated, shaking her head slightly, but still handed it over subconsciously.
Masata examined it carefully. Her slender, pale index finger had a small cut at the tip, with a thin bead of blood seeping out.
He gently pressed around the wound and asked,
"Does it hurt?"
Seeing the serious look on his face, Yaoyorozu sniffed, her voice trembling slightly.
"It hurts…"
"Then we need to disinfect it properly," Masata said seriously.
"If it gets infected, that'll be troublesome. This is basic common sense."
...
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