The cool spring breeze brushed against Tadokoro Megumi’s face as she jogged into the expanse of the pine forest to the west.
The moment she and Emiya Shirou stepped out of the Group F kitchen area, they immediately split up to execute the plan they had just agreed upon: Megumi would forage for natural seasonings, and Shirou would catch the Iwana fish upstream.
For the majority of Totsuki’s elite students, they might be incredibly skilled at dissecting whole carcasses or identifying the quality of premium ingredients in an air-conditioned pantry.
However, being accustomed to a structured professional kitchen and being forced to forage for raw ingredients hidden in the wild were two entirely different things.
Mass panic seized those who had never plunged directly into a forest ecosystem.
But for Megumi, this was her territory.
The instincts of a girl from a coastal fishing village who was accustomed to living at one with nature truly shone.
With light yet meticulous steps, Megumi swept aside the damp, dry leaves.
Her small hands deftly dug into the loose soil around the roots of a large tree, discovering spring bamboo shoots that were still very young—pale yellow with the crispest texture.
She didn’t stop there.
Relying on her instinct for air humidity, Megumi picked some wild maitake mushrooms and mitsuba leaves growing hidden near mossy rocks.
In just a matter of minutes, her rattan basket was filled with prime-quality complementary ingredients.
On the other side, in the rocky upstream part of the river, Emiya Shirou demonstrated an efficiency that defied common sense.
Shirou didn’t waste time looking for fishing gear or nets that the resort staff might have hidden.
He simply snapped off a straight wooden branch, then sharpened the tip using his pocketknife with three precise strokes.
He stepped into the calf-deep river current.
The cold air bit at his skin, but Shirou ignored it.
He closed his eyes, letting the ripples of water touch his skin.
His Eye of the Mind, the combat instinct usually used to predict the trajectories of enemy arrows and swords, was now focused on reading underwater movements.
He could feel the microscopic changes in the current when a fish swam against the stream.
His eyes snapped open, emitting a sharp golden glint.
His hand sliced through the air with lightning speed, plunging the sharpened branch into the water.
Thwack!
Pierce!
Without any excessive splashing, Shirou lifted his wooden stick.
Three large, fat, and incredibly fresh Iwana fish flapped at the end of his makeshift spear.
He had caught all three in a single, lethal straight line, piercing them right in an area that did not damage the main muscle fibers.
“Three prime-quality fish.
Done,” Shirou murmured casually.
The time it took him was no more than five minutes.
Merely fifteen minutes after Hinako Inui had announced the start of the exam, the doors to the Group F kitchen swung open again.
Shirou and Megumi stepped inside with an abundance of ingredients.
The kitchen was still deserted.
The other students—including Yukihira Soma and Takumi Aldini—were still trapped in the forest and river, fumbling around in the wild.
Hinako Inui, who had been relaxing and chewing on her rice cracker, nearly choked.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the wall clock, then stared alternately at Megumi’s basket and Shirou’s catch.
“So fast…” Hinako whispered subconsciously.
“Let’s begin, Tadokoro,” Shirou said, paying no mind to the judge’s stare.
He placed the Iwana fish, which had already been scaled, onto the table.
“I will fillet the fish and prepare the base broth from the bones.
You focus on the seasonings and the final execution.”
“Right, Emiya-kun!” Megumi answered firmly.
The girl took a deep breath, adjusted the sleeves of her white chef’s uniform, and gripped the handle of her kitchen knife with absolute conviction.
This was where the harmonious performance began.
Shirou acted as the sous-chef.
By instinct, he sliced the Iwana fish with micrometer-level precision, ensuring not a single muscle fiber was ruined.
He controlled the heat of the flame, prepared the bamboo steamer, and handed over the seasonings even before Megumi opened her mouth to ask for them.
Shirou’s absolute support freed Megumi from the heavy technical burden of preparation.
The girl was able to pour her entire soul and emotion into the cooking.
Her hands moved gently as she sautéed the maitake mushrooms and bamboo shoots, combining them with the clear fish broth.
She brushed a little plum sauce and soy sauce onto the Iwana meat, wrapped the combination in lotus leaves she had found in the forest, before arranging them neatly inside the bamboo steamer.
The kitchen was slowly filled with a soothing, steamy aroma.
The smell of damp earth from the mushrooms, the freshness of the fish, and the sweet scent of the bamboo shoots blended to create a fragrance that penetrated the soul.
Right at the forty-minute mark, the bamboo steamer was lifted from the stove.
At almost the exact same time, the double doors leading to the outdoor area were pushed open roughly.
Yukihira Soma entered, panting heavily, his uniform slightly stained with mud.
In his hands were several river fish of uneven sizes.
Right behind Soma, Takumi and Isami Aldini followed, dripping with sweat.
Soma placed his ingredients on the table, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and then raised his head.
His eyes instantly bulged.
At the judge’s table, Shirou and Megumi were already standing calmly.
In front of Hinako Inui sat a plated dish that was still billowing warm steam.
“Y-You’re kidding, right?!” Soma yelled involuntarily, pointing at the two of them.
“You guys are already done?!
It hasn’t even been an hour!”
Takumi Aldini, who had just been about to pull out his Mezzaluna knife, also froze.
He stared in horror toward the judge’s table.
“Impossible…
what kind of prep speed is that?”
Hinako Inui ignored the commotion of the returning students.
Her attention was completely captivated by the small bamboo steamer in front of her.
“Please enjoy, Chef Inui,” Megumi said while bowing politely, her face radiating a smile of relief.
“This is Iwana no Seiro-mushi, Haru no Ibuki (Bamboo Steamed Iwana, Breath of Spring).”
Hinako opened the lid of the bamboo steamer.
Instantly, a plume of steam carrying the pure aroma of the mountainous nature rushed into her face.
Inside the slightly wilted lotus leaves lay the incredibly soft, pale white Iwana meat, surrounded by pieces of golden-yellow bamboo shoots, maitake mushrooms, and drizzled with a glistening clear broth.
“Such a gentle aroma…
as if the morning mountain dew was just breathed onto my face,” Hinako murmured, her eyes sparkling.
She picked up her chopsticks, cut a small piece of the fish meat—which parted effortlessly without any resistance whatsoever—included a bit of bamboo shoot, and placed it into her mouth.
One second.
Two seconds.
And right then and there, Emiya Shirou witnessed a sight that would make him question his sanity regarding this world.
Hinako Inui’s face instantly flushed a deep crimson.
Her breathing became heavy and ragged.
Suddenly, an imaginary burst of energy exploded around the judge’s body.
To Hinako, the natural sweetness of the fish, prepared with absolute precision by Shirou, combined with the touch of care and warmth from Megumi’s concoction, created an emotional explosion in her nervous system.
Within her illusionary sensation, Hinako felt as though she had reverted to a little girl wearing a thin white yukata, skipping joyfully in the middle of a warm spring hot spring.
The water was so warm and comfortable that the obi sash on her yukata slowly came undone, letting the fabric slide down from her shoulders alongside the wave of deliciousness washing over her body.
In the real world, Hinako’s body writhed slightly in her chair.
She bit her lower lip, her hands gripping the edge of the table, while a suppressed moan escaped her mouth.
“Ahhh…
haaaah…” Hinako sighed, her eyes half-closed with a gaze blurred by pleasure.
“S-So…
soft…
This warmth is seeping right into my bones…
I feel like I’m being bathed in the spring sunlight…”
Beside her, Emiya Shirou stood frozen like a stone statue.
Shirou’s eyes, usually as sharp as swords, were now perfectly round, blank and expressionless.
His brain searched for a logical explanation.
Wait.
What just happened?
Shirou thought in a panic.
He stared intently at Hinako, who was still squirming, suppressing the sensations from Megumi’s cooking.
Throughout his entire life—both before and after receiving the Counter Guardian memories—Shirou had never seen a person react to eating his cooking by hallucinating something so lewd like this.
When he cooked even world-class dishes for Kiritsugu, his adoptive father only smiled peacefully.
Irisviel merely hugged him happily.
When he cooked for Erina Nakiri during the entrance exam, the God’s Tongue only froze out of pride.
When he served dishes to Fumio-san or the Polar Star residents, they simply fell silent and experienced mental breakdowns because the quality difference was too far beyond logic.
There was one moment, during Roland Chapelle’s class, where Shirou felt as though the edge of Chapelle’s suit tore slightly when he ate Soma’s cooking.
But at the time, Shirou brushed it off, assuming he was just sleep-deprived or had gotten steam in his eyes.
Because up until now, Shirou’s cooking, which was too mathematical and absolute, provided a “sanity-shattering” effect on the eater, not triggered a wild release of endorphins.
But now, with a dish that possessed Megumi’s emotional touch and sincerity…
that effect exploded right before his eyes.
Did…
did Judge Inui’s clothes just…
shift a little?
Was there a strong gust of wind inside this room?
Shirou scanned his surroundings with Structural Analysis….
Is this…
is this a pure biological reaction?
Just from food?!
Shirou turned his head backward with a stiff motion like a rusted robot.
He stared at Yukihira Soma, Takumi Aldini, Isami, and the other students who were frozen at their stations.
Not a single one of them was screaming in panic.
No one was covering their eyes.
Soma was merely nodding slightly while observing the leftover food on Megumi’s plate, while Takumi clicked his tongue out of frustration at falling behind.
They all considered the behavior of the judge, who was moaning in pleasure and half-delirious at the front table, as something completely normal.
So…
this absurd “Foodgasm”…
is a normal law of nature in this world?!
Shirou’s mind screamed, the foundation of his logic cracking into pieces.
What kind of world am I actually living in right now?!
Shirou took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing his facial muscles to return to a deadpan mode, even though the soul inside him was still screaming, questioning the laws of biology.
At the judge’s table, Hinako finally slowly regained control of herself.
She regulated her breathing, adjusted her clothing—which hadn’t actually changed at all in the real world—and wiped the corner of her lips.
A blush still adorned her cheeks as she looked at Megumi and Shirou with a gaze full of appreciation.
“A truly flawless mastery of preparation techniques.
This fish was cut in such a way that not a single drop of its natural juices was wasted,” Hinako praised, glancing briefly at Shirou with a probing look.
She then returned her gaze to Megumi.
“However, what serves as the soul of this dish is its seasoning.
The balance between the savory taste of the mushrooms and the sweetness of the bamboo shoots creates a blanket of flavor that protects the softness of the fish.
You did not force the flavors, Tadokoro-san.
You let the natural ingredients sing on their own.
This is a form of incredibly beautiful, high-level Omotenashi (hospitality).”
Hinako took a red-inked stamp from her pocket, then stamped the word ‘PASSED’ onto Shirou and Megumi’s evaluation sheet with a firm motion.
“Emiya Shirou.
Tadokoro Megumi.
The two of you, Pass!” Hinako declared, accompanied by a sweet smile.
“T-Thank goodness…!” Megumi nearly collapsed from overwhelming relief.
She turned to Shirou, her eyes welling with tears of moving joy.
“We did it, Emiya-kun!
Thank you so much!
If it weren’t for your help catching the fish and prepping it so quickly, I could never have served this so calmly.”
“This is your victory, Tadokoro.
I merely lent a hand as an assistant,” Shirou answered gently, before glancing back toward Hinako, who was now actually licking the remaining broth at the bottom of the bamboo steamer, completely disregarding her image as an elite alumna.
Yes, a victory that made me realize that the most lethal and nonsensical weapons in this world aren’t the sword Excalibur or the Gate of Babylon, but pots and spatulas, Shirou grimaced internally in horror.
While Shirou and Megumi began clearing their station table to rest in the designated waiting area, the atmosphere inside the kitchen suddenly turned into a battlefield for the other students.
Seeing Megumi—a student who was usually always stricken by panic—now standing calmly after serving a perfect dish and passing in just 40 minutes, the competitive spirits of Yukihira Soma and Takumi Aldini were completely ignited.
“Tch!
Only 40 minutes?!” Soma tied the white cloth around his head with an aggressive motion.
An intimidating red aura immediately emanated from his back.
He turned the gas stove on to its maximum dial.
“I won’t let you guys relax in the waiting room first!
Just watch, Takumi, I’m going to serve something that makes Chef Inui react way wilder than that!”
“Don’t get a big head, Yukihira!” Takumi shouted from the table across from him.
His double Mezzaluna knife was already flashing at an insane speed, mincing seasonings without even looking.
His eyes burned a bright blue.
“My dish will be the one to conquer Chef Inui and prove that my name stands far above yours!”
Shirou walked toward the row of chairs at the edge of the room with Megumi.
He listened to the clinking of knives, the crackling of fire, and the obsession-filled shouts from the kitchen that was beginning to boil over.
This training camp had only been running for a few hours.
Yet, Emiya Shirou now fully realized, these were going to be six days that would continuously bombard the limits of his common sense.
And he could only hope that his sanity would remain intact until the final day.
“Like my work?