Chapter 24 – Lines in the Sand

The sun had barely risen when the announcement boards near the dorms and academic halls were swarmed by a tidal wave of students. Tōtsuki's entire campus buzzed with electric anticipation. The new format for the Fall Elections had caused a stir like no other—team-based battles, randomized trios, and cohesion scoring? It was a radical shift from the traditional solo showcase, and rumors spread like wildfire that the upper brass wanted to "shake things up" to test deeper collaboration.

Riku Kaizen arrived at the board calmly, his gait unhurried, hands in his pockets as dozens jostled for a look at the list. Megumi, already ahead of him, caught sight of his name and turned with wide eyes.

"You're not going to believe this," she said, beckoning him closer.

Riku stepped forward as students began to part, recognizing his presence. Whispers accompanied him—"That's Kaizen," "He took down Takumi Aldini," "Rumor says he cooks like he's got something to prove."

His eyes scanned the neatly printed list of names.

Team 6:

Riku Kaizen

Ryō Kurokiba

Alice Nakiri

He didn't need more than a second to realize what this meant.

Ryō Kurokiba—the mad dog of the Polar Star dorm's rival enclave, a seafood berserker with a notoriously aggressive cooking style. And Alice Nakiri—Erina's cousin, known for her smug brilliance in molecular gastronomy and her gleeful disdain for conventional technique.

"Someone's playing games," Riku muttered under his breath.

From behind him, a familiar voice piped up with a playful lilt.

"Oh? Disappointed already, Kaizen?" Alice Nakiri leaned over his shoulder, chin resting in her palm, a teasing smile tugging at her lips "I thought someone of your caliber would appreciate a challenge."

"Challenge isn't the problem," he said without turning "Synergy is."

Ryō Kurokiba stepped forward next to Alice, tugging down his hoodie and casting a half-lidded glare at Riku "As long as no one gets in my way, I don't care how we 'synergize.' I'm not here to hold hands."

"Good," Riku said, meeting his stare "Because I don't plan to babysit either."

The air between them crackled—an unspoken pact forged from mutual respect and a promise of volatility.

Alice, completely unfazed, clapped her hands once "Perfect! This is going to be so much fun! I've always wanted to blend avant-garde gastronomy with primitive brute force and quiet brooding genius. It's like composing a symphony with a chainsaw and a violin."

Megumi hovered near the edge, uncertain whether to step in or retreat. She finally spoke up, voice soft but earnest "You three are strong, no doubt. But… can you really work together?"

Riku didn't answer right away. He stared at the list again, then turned to face his team.

"We'll figure it out," he said, eyes narrowing "Because if we don't, someone else decides the story. And I don't like letting others write my ending."

By mid-afternoon, the three stood inside the special team test kitchen assigned to them. It was more spacious than standard kitchens, featuring multiple workstations, advanced plating areas, a walk-in pantry, and even molecular tools like rotary evaporators and pacojets—clearly for Alice's benefit.

Alice twirled a pipette between her fingers like a baton, humming as she surveyed the room "So, here's the issue—our flavor profiles are from different planets. Ryō lives in the ocean and the underworld of umami, I play in the clouds of deconstruction, and Riku's the fire in between."

Ryō scowled as he started sharpening his knife on a whetstone "I'm not changing my style. Seafood is what I do."

"No one's asking you to," Riku said, setting a crate of ingredients down on the prep table "But if we're going to present a cohesive meal, we need a thread. Something that ties our dishes together."

Alice looked thoughtful, her teasing demeanor shifting into serious contemplation "We could explore the concept of contrast. Take three different textures or temperatures but keep one binding flavor."

"Like smoke," Riku offered "Infuse every dish with a variant of it—charred crust on the protein, liquid smoke for molecular elements, cold-smoked seafood."

Ryō's eyes narrowed "I can work with that."

Alice grinned "And I've got a liquid nitrogen chamber calling my name."

Riku pulled out a notebook and began sketching ideas "Appetizer: Alice leads. Something precise, playful, and arresting—shock them into paying attention. Main course: Ryō brings the depth. Make it hit like a freight train. I'll close with dessert—strong, grounded, and memorable."

Alice raised a brow "You're trusting me to open?"

"I'm trusting you not to screw it up," Riku replied without a smile.

Ryō smirked "This is going to be a disaster or a masterpiece."

"Either way," Riku said, eyes gleaming with fire "they won't forget it."

Over the next few hours, the kitchen became a storm of experimentation.

Alice moved like a mad scientist, freezing oils, creating edible foam clouds with violet essence and lime caviar, and using transglutaminase to bind unexpected ingredients together. Her appetizer evolved into a smoked beet tartare, shaped like a blooming flower, served with nitrogen-frozen yogurt pearls that burst on the tongue.

Ryō, in contrast, brought a primal energy. His hands moved with brutal precision, breaking down a whole monkfish with a cleaver, bones cracking under the force. He constructed a main dish featuring monkfish liver wrapped in crispy seaweed, served with a black garlic sauce so pungent it clung to the senses.

Riku stood between them—calm, steady, orchestrating each movement with quiet control. His dessert: a smoked dark chocolate terrine layered with blood orange gelée, atop a ginger sable crumble, crowned with edible gold leaf. It was rich, bitter, and bright all at once—the punctuation mark on a chaotic sentence.

Even amidst the chaos, the three slowly began syncing. Alice toned down her theatrical flair to ensure her dish set up the meal instead of stealing it. Ryō adjusted his portion sizes to allow room for Riku's decadent close. And Riku, for the first time in a long while, felt what it meant to lead—not command, but harmonize.

That night, as Riku left the kitchen and walked out onto the dew-soaked courtyard, he saw Erina standing near the edge of the stone railing, arms crossed, the wind pulling her golden hair across her cheek.

She turned as he approached, her gaze sharp.

"You're with Alice and Ryō," she said.

"You saw the list."

Her lips tightened "They're good. Brilliant even. But volatile."

Riku leaned on the railing beside her "That's why we'll win."

Erina looked at him for a long moment, then said quietly "Don't let them overshadow you."

"I'm not worried about that," he replied, watching the stars emerge above the city lights.

"Because you trust them?"

"Because I know who I am in the kitchen now."

She was silent for a few seconds, then said with rare gentleness, "I believe in you, Riku. Even if everything else around us starts to shift."

He turned, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone "You always surprise me, Erina."

"And yet," she said with a faint smile, "you always seem prepared."

Their eyes met in that still moment—filled with promise, with challenge, and something neither of them could yet name.

Far off in the distance, the bell tower struck midnight.

The team battles were just days away.

But for Riku Kaizen, the true battle had already begun—not against his opponents, but against chaos itself.