The Eve Of The Decisive Battle!

“Well, Isshiki-kun? How is it?”

Toko-senpai asked me, standing by my side with a slightly anxious expression.

“Yeah, it’s delicious. Really!”

I praised her without any flattery. There were no complaints to be had with this dish!

“Yes!”

Toko-senpai smiled and gave a small, feminine fist pump. Unlike her usual style, her long hair was tied back with a scrunchie, and she was wearing an apron. Arching her back slightly as she made that tiny victory gesture in front of her chest, she looked truly adorable.

“To think you’ve improved this much by only your third try. As expected of you, Toko-senpai.”

“Ehehe, it’s probably thanks to you.”

Toko-senpai replied with a satisfied smile.

It was about half a month ago when she told me, “I want to be able to cook in time for X-Day.” For X-Day—Christmas Eve—the core members of the circle were planning to gather for a party. Toko-senpai had asked me if she could practice the “homemade dishes from the girls” that they were expected to bring.

“I’m going to practice cooking at my house, so I want you to be my taste-tester, Isshiki-kun.”

Hearing that, I had headed to her house with great excitement.

“No one else is here, so come in.”

Toko-senpai’s greeting had made me harbor some strange, unintended expectations.

“This is a magnificent house,” I remarked honestly as I was shown into the living room. Even from the outside, the house itself was large and impressive, but the interior was clearly quite luxurious at a glance.

“Well, I suppose so… Both my parents work full-time.”

“What do your parents do?”

“They’re both doctors. My father runs a psychiatric hospital in Tokyo, and my mother works at a cosmetic surgery clinic.”

…Ah, so that explains it…

Everything clicked into place.

“My parents wanted me to go to medical school too, but I wasn’t interested in being a doctor.”

“If your parents both work full-time, how do you handle the housework?”

“A housekeeper comes three times a week. Plus, my mother’s family home is nearby, so my grandmother comes over almost every day to do the cooking and laundry.”

So, that was why Toko-senpai couldn’t cook. On the other hand, I’m an only child and both my parents work, but I can handle basic cooking and chores. Then, I remembered something.

“I believe you have a sister three years younger than you? Is she out today?”

“She’s a free spirit, so I never know what she’s doing. She’s probably out playing somewhere today as well.”

With a troubled smile, Toko-senpai set the food down in front of me.

“Go ahead and try it. I want your honest opinion.”

However, looking at the food before me, I could already predict the results. To be honest, I didn’t even need to eat it. There was a bunch of excessively dark fried chicken, a misshapen cake, and baby back ribs that were carbonized in places. The only thing that looked remotely normal was the nikujaga (meat and potato stew).

“Is this a mix of Japanese and Western?” I asked lightly.

“Yeah, I wanted to try both to see which was easier for me to make,” she replied, sounding unsure of herself.

First, a bite of the nikujaga. In that one bite, my tongue yelled “NO.” To put it simply, it was salty.

“How is it?” Toko-senpai asked anxiously.

“U-huh, well… It might be lacking sweetness, or maybe there’s too much soy sauce…”

I gave a vague answer. Or rather, this wasn’t nikujaga; it was “meat and potatoes boiled in soy sauce.”

“Be blunt!” Toko-senpai urged.

“Well… it’s probably lacking sugar or mirin. On the other hand, the soy sauce is way too strong.”

“…I see…”

Toko-senpai looked a bit discouraged. Next, I tried the dark fried chicken. Despite the dark color, there wasn’t much flavor. The darkness came from over-frying in high-temperature oil. Because of that, the meat was dry and stringy.

“I think this was fried for too long. Also, the chicken needs to be marinated more beforehand…”

“I see…”

Her tone dropped even lower. Finally, I turned to the surface-charred ribs. This was the worst of all. When I tried to cut a piece off, red juices leaked out. Looking at the cross-section, the meat near the bone was still raw. Since they were pork ribs, being raw was a serious problem.

Watching Toko-senpai’s reaction, I said fearfully, “Um, Toko-senpai… Did you put these directly on the heat right after taking them out of the fridge? The surface is charred black, but the center is still raw.”

Toko-senpai looked at it and gasped. “You’re right. The surface was totally browned, so I thought it was okay.”

“Meat usually needs to be brought to room temperature before cooking, or this happens. Also, the oven likely wasn’t preheated enough.”

“…I’m sorry…”

Toko-senpai completely withered. She looked so dejected, a far cry from her usual composed self.

“You don’t need to be so downhearted. Everyone starts out like this. You get better at cooking by failing.”

I encouraged the slumped Toko-senpai.

The menu for the second session was fried chicken, potato salad, and chiffon cake. The fried chicken was significantly better than the previous time. The potato salad was excellent as well—though the numerous bandages on her fingers told the tale of a hard-fought battle. However, the chiffon cake was a total failure.

“Is it no good after all?”

Sensing it from my expression as I tasted the cake, Toko-senpai spoke sadly. The cake hadn’t risen; the sponge was collapsed and hard. There were even clumps of flour in places.

“The sponge isn’t fluffy. And there are flour clumps here and there,” I answered honestly. Once again, she looked dejected.

“…What should I do?”

“I’m not sure… I’ve never made a cake myself.”

And so, by this third session, I was finally able to enjoy her cooking. The previous two times felt more like “human experimentation” than a tasting. This time, the baby back ribs, the fried-chicken-style karaage, the potato salad, and the shortcake were all very good. They were at a level that wouldn’t be embarrassing to serve in a shop.
I found myself smiling naturally as I ate, and seeing that, Toko-senpai looked satisfied. After finishing, I asked:

“So, these are the dishes you’ll serve on X-Day?”

Toko-senpai’s expression suddenly turned stern.

“Yes. But before that, there’s one thing I have to take care of.”