Don’t Worry About Me. Just Cook the Egg! – Part 04
Some people liked to ask whether cooking class was even necessary. And I would say yes. No question about it.
Honestly, I thought home ec was more important than P.E. if we were talking about surviving as functioning adults. Because no one could live without eating.
I felt so strongly about it because I’d tasted Sera’s cooking before. For most regular high schoolers, though, this class didn’t have many fans.
I guess it wasn’t exactly exciting. The problem was that the experienced students always took over. Translation: the girls ran the show, and the rest of us mortals got shoved into a corner, chatting while we waited for the food to be done.
It was hard to imagine a more boring class. Actually, scratch that. There were worse ones.
We broke into our assigned groups and gathered around the sinks. The same crew from P.E. showed up again.
There was Hiramatsu, the quiet beauty with pigtails over her shoulders. Something about her gave off Eu vibes.
Then Mihara, who’d tied her long brown hair up during basketball, but now wore it down. She had her sleeves rolled up, totally ready to go. Though I was pretty sure all that energy was for teasing Tomonori.
Next was Shimomura, the tall one. Big hands, broad shoulders, lean frame, pretty-boy face. He had striking blue eyes, totally un-Japanese in every way. That’s why his nickname was Anderson.
Then there was Tomonori and I guess… Orito?
For some reason, Orito’s apron had these weird frilly things on it. I’d forgotten mine, so I showed up in my gym clothes instead.
“Okay, today we’ll be prepping fish.”
Our teacher, a.k.a. No-Personality Hurricane, started explaining the lesson.
I jabbed Orito with my elbow. “What the hell is that apron?”
“This? I bought it online. I was hoping Sera would wear it.”
“A naked apron? Don’t do it, man. Tokyo Bay’s gonna run red with your blood.”
“You are so dumb. This isn’t just an apron. It’s part of a maid outfit!”
“And you call me dumb?”
“You two over there! You’re being gross.”
Anderson raised his long arm. “That’s a weird way to admonish someone, Teach.”
Our teacher, a.k.a. Featureless Typhoon, cleared his throat. “So, actually, the guest instructor we had scheduled today—Chef Unabara from the Gourmet Club—suddenly canceled. Apparently, they needed to help their son with something important. In short, they flaked.”
Groans of disappointment rippled through the class. So the school was planning to bring in some heavy hitter.
“So! While we were scrambling to find a last-minute replacement, Yoshida recommended someone.”
Tomonori, standing in front of me, snorted proudly. I braced myself for a Vampire Ninja, or something in that category.
“Please come on in, Chef.”
Rattle, rattle.
The door slid open, and when I saw who stepped inside, my face crumpled so hard I thought my nose would turn into a pig’s.
“Cute!”
“She’s so tiny!” the girls squealed.
“Legit adorable.”
“Check out that cowlick.”
“I’d go for it,” the guys muttered.
Standing on the podium was a girl who looked about 145 centimeters tall. Huge, cat-like eyes. Chestnut hair to her shoulders. And that signature cowlick sticking straight up her head. Her name was…
“I’m the genius, pretty girl, Demon Baroness, Magiclad Girl Haruna!”
The class burst into applause.
“What exactly are you?” someone asked, their tone just a little mocking.
“As you can see, a soldier.”
Yeah, I’d love to know from what angle she looked like some military personnel.
Laughter rippled through the room. Well, Haruna was adorable as long as she didn’t cause trouble, so even bizarre behavior like this got brushed off with a laugh.
“I’ll be giving the lecture today, so be grateful, ‘kay?”
“Show us what you got, Master!” Tomonori called out cheerfully.
“Haruna!” Orito yelled. “It’s me! Gimme your panties!”
Do that after you’ve collected all seven Dragon Balls, idiot.[1]
I buried my face in my hands. Okay, pretend I didn’t know her. Stay out of Haruna’s line of sight as much as possible.
“Today’s dish is spiced yam porridge,” Haruna began. “Ham It Up, for short. Ingredients are yam, palm oil, and tomatoes. Oh, and while we’re at it, we’re making miso soup and rolled omelet too.”
“Chef, if it’s called Ham It Up, shouldn’t it be a ham dish, not yam?”
“Shut it! Go to hell!”
Haruna and not answering questions. Name a more iconic duo.
“All right, we’re starting with Yammy Yammy Cooking Jam.”
“She changed the name.”
“She must’ve realized it didn’t work.”
“But isn’t that longer than spiced yam porridge?”
“She probably wants to shorten it to just Yammy.”
“Dude, you’re a genius.”
The whispers didn’t bother Haruna one bit. She just kept scribbling the recipe on the blackboard—so low it was hard to read—until our teacher, a.k.a. Worthless, rewrote it higher up.
“You can make the miso soup however you want. The real problem is the rolled omelet. Anyone who doesn’t take it seriously will definitely die within a hundred years, so keep that in mind, ‘kay?”
By now, no one even bothered to say anything. Not that they were ignoring her either; everyone seemed to be enjoying watching this small, cute creature puff itself up.
“You there! What do you usually put on your rolled omelet?”
“I use soy sauce.”
“What about you?”
“Worcestershire sauce.”
“Idiots, all of you. And you?”
“Just salt.”
Haruna slapped the blackboard. “Wrong, all wrong! Listen up! You’ve gotta stake your life on rolled omelet!” She thumped her tiny bump of a chest. “Pour your soul into it! Even if you die within a hundred years as a result!”
So you still die within a hundred years.
“Chef!”
“What is it?”
“Have you ever made rolled omelet for Aikawa?”
I couldn’t tell who asked that. If I had, they’d be eating a zombie knuckle sandwich for lunch.
The room buzzed. Everyone in my class had tasted The Aikawa Household’s Ultimate Rolled Omelet at least once. Maybe they put Orito and Tomonori’s earlier comments together with Haruna’s fiery speech.
“Well, obviously. After all, we live in the same—”
“Just get started already!”
I cut Haruna off before she could say she lived with me. I used Anderson as a shield so she wouldn’t see my face.
Cutting her off only delayed the inevitable.
The girls surrounded Haruna like reporters questioning a celebrity caught in a scandal, trying to get details about me.
Meanwhile, I chatted with Orito and the other guys at the edge. Even with six people in one group, there wasn’t much to do.
“So, Aikawa, who’s your main chick?”
“Shut up.”
They meant between Haruna and Tomonori.
“Hey, didn’t some crazy hot chick drop off your lunch before?”
“Yeah! Her looks and figure were unreal.”
“Whoa!”
“That was Sera,” Orito said.
“H-How do you even know that?”
“Sera and Haruna are just family,” I said.
“So, Tomonori’s your main chick? Man, I had my eye on her too.”
“You like Tomonori?”
“I mean, look at those legs. I just can’t get enough of them.”
“Tomonori may not look it, but she’s secretly busty,” Orito said.
“H-How do you even know that?”
“Whoa!”
“But if she’s busty, wouldn’t that mean she’s not Aikawa’s type?”
“True.”
“Because Aikawa’s into little girls,” they said in perfect sync.
Why do they always wanna label me a degenerate?
“Actually, there’s another pretty girl at Aikawa’s place named Eu,” Orito said.
“H-How do you even know that?”
“Whoa!”
This one guy pretty much just said Whoa every single time.
They annoyed me so much I went back to Tomonori and Anderson.
“How’s it looking?” I asked.
“Say ah.”
Anderson opened his mouth wide, and I did the same. He fed me a spoonful of miso soup. Hmm, it tasted pretty good.
“H-How is it?” Tomonori asked nervously.
She made this, huh. Which meant it was the taste of her home’s cooking.
“I like it.”
“Not delicious, huh? But that’s good to hear.”
She let out a sigh of relief, and I scratched my head awkwardly.
“This miso soup tastes great,” Anderson said wistfully, arms folded. “It reminds me of home.”
I wondered where he was from.
“That’s great. Aikawa likes it. You can get married now.” Mihara patted Tomonori’s head gently.
“No, I’m already married to him.”
“So, Aikawa, who do you like more: Chef Haruna or Yuki?”
This topic seemed to follow me everywhere.
The girls who knew Tomonori well called her Yuki instead of Tomonori. That split made Tomonori snap, “Don’t call me Tomonori!” If everyone just called her Tomonori, she’d probably give up.
“If we’re talking about the Yasuura sisters from Hagure Keiji, I like the younger one, Yuka.”
“She’s played by Noriko Ogawa, right? I like her too.”
Anderson, you really are a great guy.
“Uh, A-Aikawa. Um, could you… open this can?” Hiramatsu, a girl with a soft voice and gentle grace, handed me a can of oranges.
“With you here, this group can’t fail,” I said.
“That’s… not really true.”
She wasn’t good at making eye contact and always spoke with her gaze slightly lowered.
“Chef Haruna! Aikawa’s hitting on Hiramatsu!” Mihara called out.
Haruna weaved through the students with movements like Allen Iverson’s[2] and came straight to our group. Without warning, she kicked me.
“No standards, huh? You’re fine with any human? Are you a zombie or something?!”
Dropkick, dropkick, dropkick. Every time I got up, Haruna kicked me again. The others cheered.
“Chef, dust is getting into the food.”
Anderson managed to calm her down. Haruna went to wash her hands.
He just saved my ass. You’re really a good guy, Anderson.
Mihara, still clinging to Tomonori, raised a hand. “Chef, what kind of guys do you like?”
“Wuh? Hmm, someone like Watanabe from Jarhythm and Sekai no Nabeatsu.”[3]
“And you, Yuki?”
“Me? I like someone who understands the difference between a torque-tuned motor and a rev-tuned motor.”
Tomonori, you legend! I shook her hand with both hands.
“Well, then. Tomonori wins!”
“I-I lost.” Haruna pouted. Her cowlick drooped.
Haruna glared, while Tomonori looked confused. I found myself trapped in a forced love triangle.
“Drama unfolding!”
The students gathered around, laughing.
“I challenge you to a duel!” Haruna cried.
“Me against my master? No way. I can’t win.” Smiling, Tomonori waved her hands in front of her.
“Huh? Really? You think so?” Haruna laughed. Her mood lifted a bit. “Then, let’s have an omelet showdown!” She pointed firmly.
Even in a better mood, she wasn’t going back from the challenge.
1. Oolong’s wish for panties is the first-ever wish made to Shenron in the Dragon Ball series.
2. Allen Iverson is an American former professional basketball player who played 14 seasons in the National Basketball Association (NBA) as both a shooting guard and point guard.
3. Jarhythm was a comedy duo formed in 1989, consisting of Watanabe Atsushi (later adopting the stage name Sekai no Nabeatsu) and Yamashita Shigeo.
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