"To encourage everyone's enthusiasm for cooking, I've specially invited Yukiho Doi from Grade 11 to assist today's class," the plump home economics teacher announced.
"Yukiho will be solely responsible for tasting and evaluating your dishes."
Yueci Porcelain watched in mild surprise as Yukiho Doi stood elegantly beside the teacher. Ignoring the murmurs below, Yukiho swept a gentle gaze across the classroom before offering a warm smile.
"I look forward to learning from you all today, juniors."
Excited whispers rippled through the students. Yukiho had many admirers, but cross-grade interactions were rare—this unexpected proximity sent pulses racing.
Yueci felt no particular attachment to Yukiho. They were mere acquaintances, ships passing in the night. If anything, Yukiho reminded her faintly of Eiko Sakurai... yet something fundamental set them apart. Truthfully, Yueci cared more about the cooking class itself. Her previous school had never offered such novelty. As Hiru Kawakami explained, Light Private High School had recently introduced practical courses to cultivate well-rounded students.
"Each group draws ingredients by lottery," Hiru murmured to Yueci, her voice barely audible over the clatter of utensils. "One ingredient per member, max five per team. After cooking, we submit dishes for grading..." She’d always worked alone before—limited to single-ingredient dishes, usually hastily stir-fried. But today was different. Today, they’d get two ingredients. Hiru stole a glance at Yueci’s profile, blinking thoughtfully. *Does Yueci even know how to cook? I’ve never seen her eat human food...* She recalled Yueci’s explanation about not needing ordinary sustenance. Still—Hiru’s ears tinged pink as she looked down at her own rough hands—it didn’t matter. Even if Yueci couldn’t cook, Hiru would handle everything. Just one approving look from her would be enough.
"We’re a pair." Yueci pointed between herself and Hiru, signaling for two ingredient portions. Yukiho nodded, placing a stack of paper slips before them.
"Eggs and rice?" Yukiho read their draws, handing over two eggs and two bowls of steamed rice. "May your dish be delicious~" she chirped, eyes crinkling warmly.
Staring at the plain ingredients, Hiru wondered if two items truly offered more possibilities than one. *Maybe just...*
"Egg fried rice," Yueci declared, switching on the induction cooker.
Hiru blinked. "You’ll cook?" Her voice wavered slightly. "I could handle it all..."
Yueci chuckled softly. "My turn today, yours next time. It’s teamwork—unfair to burden you alone." She nudged a bowl toward Hiru. "Just beat the eggs for me?" Confidence flickered in her eyes. She’d once loved inventing recipes for Eiko and Nishikino An to taste... before the smell of oil smoke became unbearable.
Hiru cracked the eggs expertly against the bowl’s rim. Yolks and whites spilled into the ceramic, and she whisked them vigorously until they merged into a smooth, orange-yellow mixture. Yueci drizzled oil into the heated pan. When wisps of smoke curled upward, she poured in the egg liquid. A lively *sizzle* erupted as the mixture puffed into golden curds, releasing a rich aroma. Yueci flipped the eggs swiftly, ensuring even cooking, until they turned perfectly tender.
She took the rice from Hiru, fluffing the grains with chopsticks before adding them to the pan. Her movements flowed with quiet grace—as if arranging flowers rather than stir-frying. Rice and eggs danced together under her spatula, absorbing soy sauce and salt until every grain glistened. When the last kernel crisped to golden perfection, Yueci switched off the heat.
The finished dish steamed invitingly in the bowl: fluffy rice studded with soft, golden egg. Yueci scooped a spoonful, blowing gently on the steam. "Try it."
The spoon appeared suddenly before Hiru’s lips. Startled, she hesitated—should she take the spoon or eat directly? Finally, she closed her lips around it, drawing the fried rice into her mouth. The comforting blend of fluffy rice, savory egg, and umami seasoning flooded her senses. For a fleeting moment, she remembered her parents’ small dining table—their laughter echoing in a cramped but loving home. The memory had faded like old photographs.
"Delicious. Thank you..." Hiru murmured, savoring the aftertaste.
Yueci’s lips curved upward. Praise always warmed the heart.
"Finished already, Yueci’s group?" Yukiho had been monitoring progress from the front. She approached as Yueci nodded.
"Egg fried rice. We’d appreciate your feedback, Senior Yukiho."
"I smelled it from across the room," Yukiho smiled, taking a spoonful with her own utensil. She blew lightly before tasting. Her expression shifted—thoughtful, unreadable.
