“Wow, this is seriously fancy,” muttered Saito, impressed.
“For me, preparing things like this is a piece of cake! Go on, dig in!” Akane proudly proclaimed as she watched Saito, studying his reaction.
Saito put his hands together briefly in thanks, then equipped himself with a knife and a fork. Having often been taken to fine restaurants by his grandfather, he’d had proper table manners drilled into him from a young age. He pressed the knife against the steak, and the meat accepted the blade with effortless grace. He sliced off a bite-sized piece and brought it to his mouth. The charred surface was perfectly crisp, while the inside was tender like gelatin. The meat parted easily in his mouth as he bit into it, and the rich, savory flavor spread all the way down his throat.
There’s a saying about food being so good it “makes your cheeks fall off”—and this was exactly that. The inner sides of Saito’s cheeks twitched as a response to the intense umami as he chewed, and his stomach growled in recognition of its own hunger.
His whole body was screaming for more.
“This is…dangerous,” Saito blurted out.
“Was it that bad?! So awful you feel like throwing up?!” Akane looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears.
“No, I meant it in a good way.”
“Wait, you feel like puking in a good way?”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know!”
“At the very least, I don’t think I could ever associate vomiting with a positive emotion… Actually, can we not talk about this while we’re eating?” pleaded Saito.
“You’re the one who brought it up!”
“No, that was you!”
“What a seamless blame shift!”
“Who’s the one shifting?”
The two of them locked eyes, glaring across the table. Even trying to compliment her home cooking ended up in a fight, just what you’d expect from two sworn enemies. Their communication was broken by default.
“Anyway, just eat it—even if you have to puke while eating it. I worked really hard to make it for you, and I’d rather have you eat it before it gets cold,” scolded Akane, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“I’d rather not eat while vomiting. I’ll eat it normally.”
With that, Saito set his crosshairs on the seafood paella. He scooped up a generous portion of rice and ingredients with a large spoon and shoved it into his mouth. The springy flesh of the squid gave satisfying resistance as his teeth sank in and a gratifying snap as he bit through it. The scent of fresh ocean rushed in with the flavor. The rice, glistening with the sensual sheen of olive oil, was thoroughly infused with the essence of the ocean. Scattered throughout were small diced pieces of something that offered a satisfying crunch and peppery kick.
“What is this…?” Saito inquired, lifting the spoon while staring at the dice-sized cube on top of the rice.
“I chopped up some beef round originally meant for curry and added it in,” Akane explained. “I figured if you like steak that much, you’d probably enjoy having some beef in it too—not just seafood.”
“I see… That’s a pretty thoughtful touch.”
Saito had had paella before, usually at restaurants his grandfather brought him to, but it had never really left much of an impression until now. Akane’s paella—this was different. It wasn’t some generic mass-produced dish meant to please the general public. This was a bespoke dish, crafted just for him.
“What’s the soup?” asked Saito, staring down at the mysterious yellow concoction. It was strangely sludgy—like melted brains in a swamp—with red vegetables ominously floating on the surface.
“It’s Sopa de Ajo,” answered Akane.
“Ah-ho…what?” Saito asked.
“Sopa de Ajo. I found the recipe while looking up soups that go well with paella on my phone. It’s probably the kind of soup that turns you into an idiot when you have it.”
“Is that so, now?”
“If I make you have a ton of this soup, I bet your intelligence level will drop to that of a plankton. Then the title of top student will be mine!” said Akane with a triumphant grin. “Now have it. Have it all. Chug it. Every last drop.”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she urged him on. She really seemed eager to lower Saito’s IQ. Saito doubted any soup could have that kind of effect, but with Akane, you could never be too sure. There was always a chance she had slipped something suspicious into it. Cautiously, he took a sip.
There was no hint of poison. He didn’t feel any dumber, either.
What had looked like a lumpy mess turned out to be softened bread. Its texture was similar to wheat gluten, and it was mixed with beaten egg, creating a consistency like rice porridge. The natural sweetness of the vegetables had infused into the broth, and thin strips of red bell pepper added a refreshing, tangy accent. Since the steak and paella had been rich and hearty, the comforting soup made for a perfect palate cleanser. The more Saito sipped, the more warmth spread through his body.
“Does this have garlic in it?” asked Saito.
“Yep. You said you liked garlic with your meals, so I grated in a whole bunch just for you.”
Saito recalled something he’d come across while flipping through a dictionary out of boredom. “Ah, that makes sense. ‘Sopa de Ajo’ literally means ‘garlic soup’ in Spanish.”
“W-well, of course I knew that. There’s no way I wouldn’t!” retorted Akane.
“Liar. You totally tried to sabotage my intelligence, didn’t you?”
“As if I’d do something like that! I knew exactly what it meant and just wanted to tease you. And you fell for it beautifully. Ugh, how embarrassing…” said Akane, exaggeratedly shrugging her shoulders as her face flushed red with shame.
Saito nearly burst out laughing at how flustered she was, but knowing it would only make things worse, he fought hard to keep it in. Still, some of his amusement must have slipped through because Akane shot him a sharp, indignant glare.
Saito sliced into the steak once again, savoring the richness of the meat. He scooped up the paella, enjoying the vibrant flavors of the seafood. He then sipped the Sopa de Ajo, allowing the deep taste of garlic to warm him from within. It was the kind of meal that seemed to recharge him from the very core of his being.
“Think you can eat it all without puking?” Akane asked, a hint of sincere concern in her voice.
Saito had to suppress the urge to say You really are dense, aren’t you? since it should have been obvious to her that he was enjoying the delicious meal. But he knew that if he said anything like that, Akane would no doubt take it literally—and explode with rage.
Somehow, between them, hostility always came through loud and clear, while positive emotions never seemed to reach properly. That was just how it was between the two nemeses. If he wanted Akane to understand how much he appreciated this, he’d have to praise her with all his might. Though praise didn’t come easily to him, Saito took a deep breath, bracing himself, and shared his honest opinion loud and clear to Akane.
“Everything is truly delectable.”
“What? You think it’s detestable?” Akane trembled, visibly shaking.
“What kind of misheard nonsense is that? I said it’s delicious. This is better than anything made by a professional chef. It’s a masterpiece.”
“I can’t believe it. You, praising me like that? Wait—this is a trap, isn’t it?” Akane raised her knife and fork like dual swords. She looked like a dual-wielding samurai, ready to strike. Answer poorly, and she’d cut him. Answer well, and she’d still cut him. The air around her radiated merciless bloodlust.
“It’s not a trap,” said Saito calmly. “Honestly, it’s so good that I’d be overjoyed if you cooked like this for me every day for the rest of my life!”
As Saito threw all the praise he could muster at her, Akane visibly panicked. “Wh-what the heck is that supposed to mean? Sounds like you’re asking me to marry you or something!”
The moment the sentence left his mouth, Saito cringed at his own words. He felt embarrassed, realizing he was sounding like some lovesick fool from an old Hollywood movie. “N-no, that’s not what I meant! I mean, c’mon now, we’re already married…” He tried to step back his words.
“Oh, so you’ve finally realized how amazing I am!” said Akane, giggling.
Seeing Akane squirm shyly like that, any thoughts Saito had about correcting himself vanished into thin air. With a burst of enthusiasm, Akane leaned across the table. “All right, then. I’ll cook my amazing dishes for you whenever you want! What else do you want me to make? I’ll make anything you want tonight!”
Whether it was from being so thrilled by the praise or just plain excitement, she didn’t seem to notice how close she’d gotten to him. Her eyes sparkled with sincerity, and her cheeks were flushed like strawberries. Saito couldn’t help but be captivated over how charming she was in that moment. A sweet scent drifted from her skin, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Akane’s occasional flashes of cuteness were downright unfair. She always said something irritating the moment she opened her mouth—and yet here she was, looking like that.
“Uh…aren’t you a little too close?” said Saito hesitantly.
“Oh.” Akane quickly pulled back.
“W-well, it’s just because I thought you might not hear me from far away!” said Akane, her cheeks flushed in frustration.
“O-oh. Got it.”
Her awkward excuse left her visibly embarrassed, shrinking into herself. Saito, too, found himself unsure of how to deal with the sudden awkward tension. Neither of them was used to this—this normal, almost romantic kind of atmosphere. They were supposed to be sworn enemies, not an ordinary married couple.