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It was kind of disappointing that Haruka’s social life seemed to revolve around the Donbrothers. Technically, around Saruhara. He was still the only person she could say she properly hung out with outside of school – although Tarou, Jirou, and Sonoi had all dragged her into various scrapes. She was still in the same situation as she’d been in months ago, when she first became OniSister. Everyone at school thought she was a plagiarist. Her friend Sakura was busy, and Haruka hadn’t spoken to Marina much lately. She was trying hard not to think about their disastrous double date. Haruka didn’t know if Marina were still seeing that flashy pirate, but it would be awkward to ask.
She was sitting on her bed, idly watching a TikTok clip by an influencer who was popular at Haruka’s school. Neon something? Haruka had been too busy to keep up with what everyone else was into. One of Neon’s latest videos warned about social isolation and advised taking up some kind of class, activity, or hobby to meet new people. Haruka sighed. Well, that was fine for an influencer who was hot and had a ton of money; but not when you were a regular girl. Especially one who was juggling school, work, and the Donbrothers and trying to break out of a creative slump so she could fight to reclaim her career as a mangaka.
Haruka idly browsed through some online ads for local social groups anyway. She wasn’t particularly interested in hiking or playing Go, but there was a cookery class at a nearby community centre on her night off. That might appeal. She had to get better at making beef stroganoff so she could beat Naoki Shiina, and stupid Tarou wouldn’t tell her she was doing it wrong. You could sign up for a trial session on the website, so she booked for the following week. At least it would take her mind off things for a while.
Haruka got the bus after school and went down to the community centre. She had to stop into the supermarket along the way to buy prawns and a few other ingredients for the class. When she arrived, there were two people already waiting: a cheerful girl in a pink apron, and a twitchy-looking guy with a bowl cut.
“Hey! I’m Asuna,” said the girl. “Are you starting the class today?”
“I’m just here for a trial session,” said Haruka.
“Yeah, that’s what I said six months ago.”
“Did you get better at cooking?” said Haruka.
“I don’t know. I like to eat,” said Asuna. She reached into an open bag of what looked like beef jerky and stuffed some into her mouth. Haruka recoiled. It looked gross.
“My name's Tamaki,” said the guy.
“I’m Haruka. How many people does the class have?” Haruka asked.
“Not including you … five. And the teacher, of course,” said Asuna. The door opened, and she waved at the person coming in – “Hey! Haruka, this is Sakuya. He’s here because he wants to impress a girl that works at a French restaurant.”
“You didn’t have to tell her that right away,” said Sakuya, who appeared to be avoiding eye contact.
Asuna shrugged and said, “I’m just making conversation.”
***
The teacher, Mr. Kousaka, was a patient thirty-something guy. He handed out a copy of the recipe they’d be making in class today, which was for three different canapés. They looked tasty, but not particularly substantial. In fact, they didn’t look like enough to keep a mayfly alive. Haruka regretted her decision not to have dinner before she went to the class.
Asuna groaned, “That’s not even a snack!”
“They are meant to be served at parties before you eat,” said Mr Kousaka.
“Why can’t we make burgers or something?” said Asuna.
Mr. Kousaka said, “I think it’s quite cruel to eat cows.”
“You don’t have a problem with prawns, though! Or eggs! We cooked eggs for like three months in a row.”
“That’s not true,” said Tamaki. “We made lattice pastry that one time. And we had a vegan week.”
“We were supposed to have another person, but it doesn’t look like he’s coming,” said Mr. Kousaka. He looked up at the clock, “Let’s get started.”
The first canapé was a prawn mousse to be served with asparagus. It looked straightforward enough. Haruka could probably have just learned how to make it from a YouTube video, but then, the whole point of coming here was to make friends. Unfortunately, it didn't seem too likely that was going to happen. Asuna was fun; it would just be nice if she were a little less loud and gluttonous. Tamaki and Sakuya seemed kind of annoying, and there were a couple of 40-something ladies that Haruka probably wouldn’t have a whole lot in common with. Still, it was a trial class. She’d find another activity to do next week.
The door opened, and in came someone Haruka hadn’t expected to see –
“Sorry I’m late. I got held up on a delivery.” Tarou put down his bag and went to wash his hands at the sink in the corner.
“Tarou? How did you know I was going to be here?” Haruka said.
Tarou blinked at her, “I didn’t.”
“Then why are you here? You know how to cook.”
“I wanted to take up something new so I could meet people,” said Tarou. “The influencer Neon Kurama recommended it. My co-workers were watching her during lunch, and I thought it was a good idea.”
“Well, that’s great!” said Mr. Kousaka. “You may not have time to make all three canapés today, but –”
Tarou ignored him and walked up to Tamaki, “You’re doing that wrong.” He picked up a spatula and brandished it just a hair's breadth away from Tamaki's oversized glasses.
Tamaki held up his hands and said, “I didn’t mean to, honestly!”
“And so are you,” Tarou said to Asuna. “You’re using at least double the quantity of ingredients in that recipe.”
“I have to! It barely counts as food!” Asuna complained.
Sakuya put his hand up and said, “Am I doing it wrong?”
“Yes! In fact, this entire recipe is wrong,” said Tarou.
Mr. Kousaka said, “Are you sure about that?”
“Have you even read this?” Tarou held up the recipe and quickly looked it over. “That mousse will coagulate too quickly. It’ll be light on flavour …”
“Excuse me, how do you know all this stuff?” said Sakuya.
“Trust me. He’s better at everything than everyone else. It gets pretty annoying,” said Haruka.
Tarou glanced back at her, “Haruka, you should pay attention. Your beef stroganoff was pleasant but unimpressive. You need to learn about seasonings and cooking time.”
Haruka closed her eyes and tried really, really hard not to smack him over the head with the pan she’d been using.
***
Haruka didn’t sign up for any further classes. It wasn’t really her thing – and Tarou would probably be teaching the class now. Still, she’d got along well with Asuna, and arranged to hang out for lunch with her at the weekend. Haruka did not offer to pay. Her finances probably wouldn’t stretch to the cost of Asuna’s food bill.
“That’s a shame,” said Asuna, when Haruka mentioned she wasn’t returning to the class. “We’re making American-style steak next week.”
Haruka said, “I see Tarou several times a week. I don’t need to cook with him as well.”
“That’s right! You never told me how you and Tarou know each other,” Asuna said.
“How much time do you have?” said Haruka.