Nene and Inui were… in a bad mood.
Nothing obvious, but anyone paying close attention could sense it. Forced smiles, empty stares, and that classic "someone stole my favorite dessert" aura.
Yes. Both felt as if something precious had been taken from them—something that wore a white chef's jacket, slightly tailored, made of sturdy and breathable cotton, with a clean, professional cut.
The collar and cuffs were lined with dark green fabric, while the buttons were red, creating a subtle contrast with the colors of the Italian flag. Embroidered on the chest in discreet golden thread was the name "Damian."
He wore a white or light gray apron that covered from chest to knees, with two large front pockets for utensils, towels, or small notebooks. The straps crossed at the back and were adjustable, offering comfort and mobility in the kitchen.
Dark-toned pants with a faint checkered pattern.
Black, non-slip shoes with reinforced toes and ergonomic insoles. A discreet style, but essential for chefs working at a fast pace.
And finally, a small brooch on the left side of his chest, shaped like a fork and knife with a cat behind them.
During this training camp, Nene had developed a new skill: typing messages at lightning speed while pretending to focus on class.
From culinary tips to silly chatter, she and Damian would chat for hours on social media.
The night before, for instance, after dinner, Kuga's room had turned into a chaotic mess. Isshiki and the others had been dragged off by some enthusiastic classmates for a poker session.
Damian? Nope.
He went into his classic "monk mode" and declined with the serenity of someone reciting a ceremonial green tea recipe.
The result? He ended up chatting with Nene. Until nearly midnight.
In the end, it was Damian himself who brought their chat to a tragic close.
"Nene, we've got an evaluation tomorrow. I need to get some rest early."
Nene stared at her phone for five minutes. Then ten. Then… who's counting?
She curled up in bed, her phone glowing in the dark like a jewel.
She scrolled up through the chat… then back down… smiling to herself… whispering things like:
"Idiot…"
"Why does he ask that so directly…?"
And with those silent, internal outbursts, she fell asleep with a goofy smile on her face and the phone still in her hand.
The next day, the investigation began.
Nene opened Damian's social media profiles—on a mission to find emotional clues.
The result:
Zero posts. Zero photos. Not a single sign that he even knew the internet existed.
"He's too grounded in the real world! Is he a gourmet robot?!"
But… every day in their chats, Damian did the same thing:
He either teased or complimented her.
Nene was starting to feel a strange peace with it. As if… she was opening up. Relaxing. And (not that she'd ever admit it) enjoying it.
Until she appeared.
Inui Hinako.
Chatting and laughing with Damian like it was the most natural thing in the world.
With that "sweet neighbor" vibe—like she'd offer cupcakes with hidden intentions.
Nene glared from the kitchen, her glasses gleaming at a dangerous angle.
"Chef Hinako… you're awfully close with Damian-kun."
Hinako raised an eyebrow.
"Kinokuni-san, you're getting paranoid. He's just… adorable when he smiles, isn't he?"
"Adorable?! He's a focused student! A promising chef! Not a café mascot!"
"Are you jealous?"
"Of course not… maybe a little. BUT IT'S NOT JEALOUSY! It's… protection!"
Despite Hinako's "suspicious presence," Nene felt strangely happy.
Damian's words, the encouragement, the subtle compliments… it was like he had tasted her food and discovered the secret ingredient.
As if he had inhaled the scent of her culinary soul and said: "I understand you."
Nene's heart would skip a beat every time she remembered that.
"Damian-kun… you're still so amazing… tsk. Dammit," she said.
While they talked, Damian was working silently. His movements were clean, calculated, almost choreographed.
Damian lightly cooked some fresh peas. Once they reached the right point, he blended them with cream and a hint of wasabi until it became a vibrant, smooth purée. He adjusted the salt, added a pinch of nutmeg. Nothing more than the essentials.
Next, the protein. The shrimp were sautéed in clarified butter with minimal seasoning. At the perfect moment, Damian added the pre-reduced green tea, a spoonful of mirin, and a dash of light soy sauce. The pan hissed, releasing a herbal aroma into the air.
"He's using tea as the base for the sauce?" a student whispered.
"Yeah… but not just any tea. Sencha with mirin? That's bold."
But Damian wasn't done. He took yuzu juice and, with precise technique, blended it with water and lecithin until it became a light foam. He tested the texture with a spoon—light, fresh, citrusy.
Finally, he plated the dish: a layer of vibrant green purée in the center, the shrimp carefully stacked in a spiral pattern, a spoonful of the green tea reduction on the side, and on top, a cloud of yuzu foam. To finish, tiny shiso leaves and lemon zest.
He wiped the plate's edges like a painter finishing his canvas.
Then he picked it up and brought it to Inui.
"Buon appetito," Damian said calmly as he handed her the plate.
In front of her, the Green Tea Shrimp with Pea Purée and Yuzu Foam shone like a hand-painted masterpiece. A gentle tea mist swirled around the counter like morning fog.
Inui narrowed her eyes at the plate. She was known for her taste sensitivity and… intense reactions. Her gaze sharpened at the delicate presentation.
"Hmm, not bad, Damian-kun… But let's see if the flavor is as elegant as the plating."
She picked up her fork, cut a generous piece of shrimp, lightly dipped it into the purée, passed it through the yuzu foam, and brought it to her mouth.
Silence.
Then—
BOOOM!
The kitchen's background transformed, spiraling green tea petals swirling around Inui, who now appeared draped in a translucent yukata made of shiso leaves and fragrant steam. She gasped softly, eyes shut, expression fully immersed.
"Hmmm~"
"T-This is…" She trembled slightly, shoulders arching.
"The flavor… it's like a hot spring bath after a long journey…! The shrimp is tender and firm, and the tea's touch… my whole body is relaxing…!"
She leaned back as if her strength had left her. A symbolic drop of tea slid down her neck, her skin shivering.
"This purée… the soft touch of wasabi… it's provocative, yet gentle… like a caress behind the ear…!"
In front of her, Damian shook his head and sighed.
"…But the tea could've had a deeper note."
Inui opened one eye, still half-lost in the sensory journey.
"H-Huh?"
Damian sighed, picking up his tasting spoon.
"I used sencha for its familiar herbal profile, but if I had infused it longer with gyokuro leaves, I could've drawn out more complex umami notes. And maybe, instead of yuzu foam, a light yuzu jelly with a pinch of ground sansho would've given a better contrast between sweetness and acidity."
He continued, as if Inui weren't literally trembling from a flavor-induced meltdown:
"The purée could've been airier. Should've passed it through a fine sieve before serving. And the shrimp… I'm still considering whether grilling them in bamboo leaves over tea steam would've enhanced their natural sweetness."
Inui stared at him, sweating slightly, while the rest of the class watched, stunned. It was as if Damian had completely ignored the fact that he had just triggered a mini sensory collapse in her.
"D-Damian-kun… you…"
"It's still not good enough."
Inui laughed. First softly… then louder.
"Hahaha…! Now I understand why they call you 'The Artisan.' You don't cook to win. You cook to reach something only you can see."
She composed herself, and with a teasing smile, murmured:
"But be careful, Damian-kun… you might give someone a heart attack with these dishes… and that blasé stare."
He replied with only the faintest chuckle.
From across the room, Nene watched, arms crossed tightly.
"That shameless old hag… tsk…!"
"Nene, are you okay?"
"Perfectly fine," she said, eyes narrowed.
"But next time, I'm tasting first. And no foam…!"
Nene raised an eyebrow as she recalled Damian's self-critique.
"You're really that strict?"
Across from her, Inui's eyes widened, still holding her spoon mid-air.
Unbothered, Damian simply waved his hand casually.
"Let's put that aside for now. Chef, please… finish."
"With pleasure!" Inui replied, already salivating. Damian's dish was far too good for just one bite.
Nene looked sideways, eyeing Damian with growing curiosity.
"Damian-kun, you… huh?"
She stopped mid-sentence. Damian suddenly leaned slightly forward and turned his face. With one finger to his lips, he made a silence gesture—like a maestro requesting calm before the final note of a symphony.
"Now is the time to hear the dish's answer… I need to see the result of my own effort."
Nene froze for a second, her cheeks flushing without realizing it. Then, she gave a small nod, as if understanding something important. Quietly, she turned and stood beside him, watching Inui finish eating.
But even in silence, her eyes wandered—they turned back to Damian.
And then she saw: he was watching Inui with calm eyes, but there was something else… a faint smile at the corner of his lips, serene and confident.
"So, did I pass?"
Inui sighed and said, "If I don't give you a good evaluation, I won't be able to justify it, so yes, you passed—as expected from you…"
Damian nodded.
"Seriously, I should've done what Chef Dojima told me if I knew it'd be like this."
Damian tilted his head and said, "You're talking about the muscle guy, right?"
"Pfft…hahaha! You're going to kill me with laughter—muscle guy?! But yes, it's really him. How did you know?"
Nene also looked at Damian with a slight smile. He thought for a moment and said, "Probably because Chef Dojima is over forty and still single…"
"Eh? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Uh… What did Chef Dojima say?"
"Oh, he said that if he met you, he'd adjust the difficulty accordingly. That's what he meant."
"Now that sounds more fun…"
"Yeah, hmm, your dish was delicious. You have to send me a copy of the recipe later!"
Damian smiled at her reaction, nodded, and said, "Alright, then, I'll be heading out first."
"Bye-bye… Huh? Ah! My sunflower seed! Damian!"
"Consider it an advance payment for the recipe."
"Ah?! Hey! My sunflower seed!"
Damian smiled and immediately walked off with Inui's sunflower seeds. Nene looked at the dazed Inui and, feeling inexplicably satisfied, left after saying her goodbyes properly.
After Damian left, Inui returned to her usual self and muttered under her breath,
"Hmm… Still as handsome as ever… What are you talking about, Inui? He's ten years younger than you!"
(End of the chapter)
Give me some power stones there you go~😉