Chapter Text
“I thought a change in flavor might be fun.” – S2E2
Thirteen-year-old Tadokoro Megumi stared at the ceiling from her bed, trying to convince herself that survival counted for something.
She’d left her small fishing village with such high hopes, though. It was winter break—the end of her first two semesters in Totsuki Culinary Academy. She hadn’t been expelled, she knew that much; Fumio-san would’ve been informed otherwise so she could gather her things from the dorm. But every single one of the comments she’d heard from her teachers had been full of frustration and disappointment, bordering on scorn.
Stuffed deep inside her luggage was her progress report. She hadn’t opened it yet. She didn’t think she could bear to.
Maybe I can just stay here forever, she thought, grabbing a pillow and plopping it over her face.
“Megumi-chan?” A gentle voice filtered through her closed bedroom door.
Megumi removed the pillow from her face. “You can come in, Mom.”
To her surprise, her mother was dressed in a spring-green kimono—her innkeeper’s garb. She smiled apologetically at her daughter. “There’s been a large influx of guests today, and I’m needed up front. I’m sorry, Megumi-chan, I know I said we can spend the day together-“
“It’s okay,” Megumi assured her. The winter season was one of their most profitable of the year, but it was also one of their toughest. More hands on deck were needed and there were fewer to spare. She sat up. “Can I help, too?”
“Are you sure?” Her mom’s gaze was warm as it was sharp. Megumi fought to keep herself from shrinking under the covers. “You just came back from your first year of middle school. Don’t you want a bit of a break?”
“Maybe—maybe from cooking,” Megumi admitted. She swallowed. “But I can help in other ways, like hosting or dishwashing. I really want to see everyone.”
“They’re excited to see you, too.” Her mother smiled. “Alright. Just promise you’ll tell me if you’re feeling overwhelmed, okay?”
“Okay!”
“Go get ready.”
Megumi flew to her wardrobe, rummaging for a kimono that wasn’t crumpled up in her or suitcase or left back at school. Her mother’s laughter rung in the air as she threw pajama shirt after pajama shirt on her bed. “Oh, Megumi-chan,” she said fondly. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
Megumi’s face was turned away from her, towards a drawer of neatly folded socks. She whispered, “I wish I never left.”
“It’s freezing!”
“That’s why I told you to layer,” Soma’s dad replied. His lips quirked. “Something you evidently decided to ignore.”
“It was warm when we left.”
“It’s cold in Tohoku. Which I told you.”
Soma groaned. “You knew I wouldn’t listen, so hand over the sweaters, old man.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The adolescent lunged for his dad’s backpack. The train compartment they were in was small – the bag should’ve been well within his reach – but somehow, the older man managed to swing it away. Soma stood on the plush seat to leap after it again. This little dance continued with much thumping and complaining, mostly on Soma’s part, before there was a gentle rap on the door. “Is everything okay in there?”
“We’re fine,” Soma’s dad called out. Soma took the opportunity. He snatched the pack from his dad’s hands, unzipping it in one movement.
A thick, woolen overcoat was the redhead's reward, and he cocooned himself inside it greedily.
“One day,” his father warned him, sitting back down, “I won’t bother to pack extra things for you, and where will you be then?”
“Dead,” Soma said contentedly. He snuggled further into the coat. “Unwrap me when it’s time to go home.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to poke at least your feet out now.”
“Why?”
His father smirked. “We’ve arrived.”
The train rumbled to a stop. Yukihira Soma grunted, wishing he was anywhere else other than there.