Teriyaki.
A humble cooking method in Japanese cuisine—yet elegant in its simplicity.
Soy sauce, sugar, mirin. The sauce glistens as it clings to the ingredients, caramelized into a glossy finish. That sheen is where "teri" gets its name—meaning "shine"—while "yaki" is the grilling, the fire, the passion behind it.
The dish in front of me wasn't flashy. No rare ingredients or extravagant plating. Just mushrooms, onions, and carrots—simmered and sautéed to perfection.
And yet, when I bit into the mushroom, it was as if I had bitten into the very essence of nature.
The fragrance of the forest, the wild earth, the misty air after rain—it all rushed into my senses with a single bite. The juice burst forth from the soft mushroom cap, soaking my tongue in deep umami. The teriyaki sauce, sweet and savory, enhanced that wildness rather than masking it.
Even Hinako, who had tasted dishes from Michelin-starred chefs, couldn't help but be moved.
"This… Just mushrooms, carrots, and onions? Stir-fried in homemade teriyaki sauce?"
She blinked in disbelief. "You managed to draw out such flavor from these ingredients… You're really something."
Megumi bowed her head slightly, flustered but pleased. She hadn't expected praise, much less from someone like Hinako Inui, a professional chef and examiner.
It wasn't just the taste that impressed Hinako.
It was the courage to serve such a simple, rustic dish at one of Totsuki's harshest exams. In a world where elaborate plating and exotic ingredients reigned supreme, Megumi had chosen humility. And that alone made her dish shine even more brightly.
"Hey… interested?"
Hinako leaned forward suddenly, eyes gleaming with warmth and intent.
"Kirinoya could use a gentle Totsuki student like you."
"Eh? W-What do you mean?"
Megumi's eyes widened, her hands instinctively clasping together. She felt like a deer in headlights.
"I know what happened with Shinomiya. Spoiled vegetables, unfair judgment… and yet you didn't run. You cooked with sincerity and overcame it. That's something most students here couldn't do."
Hinako took Megumi's hands, gripping them tightly.
"And now, you've shown me that true cooking comes from kindness. That's exactly the kind of soul I want at Kirinoya."
Megumi blinked, stunned. Recognition? A job offer? From someone like Hinako?
It felt like a dream.
But she shook her head quickly, the dream fading. "N-No, Senpai. I… I'm not qualified. I'm not smart. I barely passed the written exams…"
Hinako chuckled. "So? You think talent can only be measured by grades?"
She leaned back, half-teasing. "Or maybe… you don't think highly of Kirinoya?"
"No! Not at all!"
Megumi looked up, voice filled with sincerity. "It would be an honor to work with you."
"But…" Her voice grew soft. "In my heart… there's somewhere I want to be even more."
Hinako's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Oh? Now I'm curious. What kind of place could outshine a prestigious restaurant like Kirinoya?"
Megumi inhaled deeply, her voice unwavering.
"The tavern."
A brief silence.
"The tavern?"
"A tavern?" Hinako echoed, visibly surprised.
"Yes. It's not famous. It's not fancy. But it's where I found myself. Where I learned that cooking isn't just about impressing people—it's about healing them."
She remembered Zane—his calm voice, his strange yet clever techniques, his unwavering confidence.
"I still have a long way to go, but… I want to stand beside him. That's my dream."
Hinako smiled, not with disappointment—but admiration.
"Then I guess I lost again," she said softly. "You really love that place, don't you?"
Later That Night — The Grand Finale
Night fell over the Totsuki Resort, wrapping the mountains in a peaceful hush.
A faint golden glow shimmered across the windows of Totsuki Palace. Inside, 428 students gathered once more—survivors of five days and six nights of relentless pressure.
Zenji Marui slouched against a wall, his dark circles more prominent than ever.
"I swear I'm gonna die…"
Beside him, Ryoko muttered, "They're probably going to announce the dinner challenge like on the first day."
Yuuki trembled at the memory. "I never want to go through this again!"
Then, silence descended.
A powerful aura entered the hall—Gin Dojima stood center stage, his eyes as sharp as a blade.
"You've passed," he said, his voice solemn but proud. "Congratulations."
Relief washed over the crowd like a tidal wave.
Dojima continued, "Becoming a top chef depends on you. Totsuki only opens the path. A real chef must be confident, creative, and passionate. That's what this training was about."
Then he smiled.
"And now, for the final phase…"
The students held their breath.
"Our Totsuki alumni will cook a banquet in your honor. Enjoy tonight—you've earned it."
Cheers erupted from every corner of the room.
Feast of the Masters
"Megumi, we made it!" Yuuki cried, hugging her tight, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Yeah…" Megumi whispered, her own tears blurring the lights. "It's over…"
She thought of everything—the fear, the panic, Shinomiya's cruel test, the despair of almost giving up…
But she had survived. She had grown.
The banquet hall opened to reveal a dreamscape of food.
Squid ink pasta. Gunkan sushi. Lasagna. Seared foie gras. Lamb soup. Handmade pizza. Glazed veal shanks.
Dozens of dishes, each more dazzling than the last.
Yuuki was practically drooling. "Do you think we can eat all this?"
"I… think so?" Megumi chuckled.
They dove in.
Yuuki tried the squid ink pasta first. Its jet-black sheen looked strange but elegant.
The noodles were al dente, springy and satisfying. The squid's umami wrapped around her tongue like an ocean breeze.
She sighed, mouth stained black. "Wow…"
Megumi tried the ark shell sushi next. The pink shellfish gleamed atop pristine white rice speckled with roe. A bite revealed a buttery texture and clean ocean flavor.
So simple. So elegant.
"Delicious…" she murmured.
Then came a familiar voice.
"So? How's my sushi?"
Hinako had appeared beside her, smiling slyly.
Megumi jumped slightly. "Eh?! You made this?!"
"Of course."
Megumi looked down at the sushi with newfound awe.
"From the shaping technique to the temperature control… everything is perfect."
"Hmm," Hinako said playfully. "How does it compare to your precious tavern?"
Megumi didn't hesitate.
"Zane's food is better."
Hinako stared.
"Way better."
Then she laughed—genuinely, warmly.
"You really are something else, Megumi Tadokoro."