Chapter 19: Smoke and Silence
The aftermath of the Shokugeki was a blur of applause, handshakes, and well-meaning words.
Kaoru Yukishima smiled for his friends, accepted Soma's backslaps and Megumi's gentle encouragement, but inside, he felt hollow.
The taste of defeat lingered on his tongue, sharper than any vinegar, more persistent than any mold.
That night, while the dorm celebrated his effort, Kaoru slipped away.
He wandered the quiet campus, the winter air biting at his cheeks, the world muffled by a thin layer of snow.
The lights of Tōtsuki glowed in the distance, but he kept to the shadows, seeking solace in silence.
He found himself in the old greenhouse behind the dorms, a place rarely visited in winter.
The glass was fogged, the air inside heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.
Kaoru sat on a broken bench, his breath clouding in the cold, and let the memories come.
He replayed the Shokugeki in his mind: Tsukasa's flawless technique, the effortless way he balanced flavors, the calm precision of every movement.
Kaoru's own dish had been wild, emotional, a symphony of instinct and memory. The judges had praised his heart, but in the end, it wasn't enough. Not against perfection.
He wondered if he would ever be enough.
A memory surfaced—one he had tried to bury. Years ago, in the smoky depths of the Underground Gourmet scene, Kaoru had stood before a panel of masked judges.
He was younger then, desperate to prove himself, to escape the shadow of his family's reputation.
He had poured everything into his dish: a fermented fish stew, bold and unapologetic.
The first judge spat it out, the second sneered, the third simply shook their head. "Technique is everything," one intoned. "Emotion is a luxury for the weak."
He lost everything that night—his place in the kitchen, his mentor's respect, his own fragile confidence.
He remembered the sting of humiliation, the way the other chefs had looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes.
He had sworn never to let himself be so vulnerable again.
But here he was, years later, still chasing approval, still risking everything for a taste of belonging.
A soft knock at the greenhouse door pulled him from his thoughts.
Megumi stepped inside, her breath visible in the cold. She didn't speak at first, just sat beside him, her presence gentle and steady.
"You don't have to say anything," Kaoru murmured, staring at his hands. "I know I lost."
Megumi shook her head. "You didn't lose. Not really. You showed everyone something new. That's worth more than you think."
He looked at her, searching for doubt, but found only sincerity. "Tsukasa was perfect. I was... messy. Too much."
She smiled, a little sad. "Maybe. But sometimes, people need messy. They need to feel something. You made them feel."
They sat in silence, the only sound the drip of melting snow from the roof. Megumi reached over, squeezing his hand. "Don't give up, Kaoru. You're not alone."
After she left, Kaoru lingered, letting her words settle.
He thought of the friends he had made, the risks he had taken, the flavors he had dared to share. Maybe there was value in that, even if it wasn't enough to win.
When he finally returned to the dorm, the halls were quiet. He found a folded piece of paper slipped under his door.
The handwriting was unfamiliar, the message brief:
They haven't forgotten you.
Kaoru stared at the note, a chill running down his spine. The past, it seemed, was not finished with him yet.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please gimme your power stones tehee.
Leave some reviews to let me know what went wrong in the writings and I'll try to fix it when I have time, or you can comment it down below.
P.S English is not my first language, it should be the third or fourth if I remember my languages correctly. xD
You can support me on patreon.com/WMROGER