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English
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Published:
2026-02-26
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1,612
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1/1
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Food! Battle Royale [English ver.]

Summary:

Don't miss the premiere of the new cooking show where Yuki Eiri will judge your creations. The best will win a wonderful prize!

Work Text:

Yuki Eiri, the famous writer of romance novels, retired about ten years ago, but his works still had a cult following. His most passionate readers —many of them housewives— cherished fond memories of his latest releases. Although Yuki Eiri loved to write and used to publish short columns in major magazines and newspapers under a pseudonym, what he was most passionate about after desserts and making love to Shuichi was cooking.

In Shuichi's eyes, Yuki seemed to be an inveterate lover of good food, It was no coincidence that they had moved shortly after his “retirement” and the search for a larger apartment. What he seemed to be looking for was his ideal kitchen space. He cared little about the area or whether it was a studio apartment as long as the kitchen was beautiful and functional, something Shuichi reproached him for because he would end up sleeping on the balcony or on the sofa.

After much searching, they had finally found their ideal “love nest.” Apparently, it was love at first sight. Shuichi knew that Yuki liked to cook, but it didn't seem like something to worry about until he saw the Food Network programs and decided to go to culinary training abroad.

“Riku! Michael! It's about to start!” Shuichi shouted from the living room, frantically changing channels with the remote control until he tuned in to Fuji TV, where a new cooking show was about to begin, in which the youngest chefs would show off their culinary skills in a bloody battle, or so it seemed from the title “Food! Battle Royale.”

Michael emerged from Riku's room, dragging him by the arm. Riku seemed reluctant to watch, but his mother was already there, clearing a spot for both of them on the sofa. He had no choice but to settle in as the intro rolled.

When a TV producer discovered Yuki Eiri was back in Japan and obsessed with cooking, he made an offer the writer couldn't refuse: a seat on the judging panel of a new show. His father seemed ready to bark at any paparazzi who approached, and Shuichi had even feared for the producer’s life, hoping he wouldn’t receive a murderous glare. But to everyone's surprise, Yuki had simply smiled—a smile so rare and dazzling that Shuichi felt a pang of envy, while the poor producer nearly died of a heart attack from the "cosmic" event.

The premiere of the show had already been announced with great fanfare, and he was sure that housewives would make up the bulk of the ratings; since the other judges didn't seem to attract as much attention, even though they tried to elevate them with their titles and importance within the guild. No one was as important at that moment as Yuki Eiri.

The host began the program by announcing the rules of the competition. The audience didn't care much; there was a prize of 100,000 yen for whoever managed to survive the three rounds.

The participants made their appearance, consisting of four chefs who apparently had something to prove. Shuichi was desperate not to see his husband, then it happened: the judges were introduced, and the applause and screams did not stop.

Riku slapped his face. Well, there was his father wearing his signature dark glasses on stage, apparently no one questioned him as he maintained a firm pose when he was introduced.

“I'm sorry,” they heard the writer apologize as he took off his glasses. “It's a habit. I'm a little shy in front of the cameras.” He put them aside, and a sharp sound indicated that many women had fainted on the set.

“No need to apologize! It is our honor to have the famous Yuki Eiri on our panel.”

“I appreciate the invitation. I’m no expert, but I am a man passionate about the culinary arts.” More screams.

“God, Riku! Your dad is awesome!” Michael cheered.

“He hasn't even done anything yet,” Riku muttered, though he couldn't deny his father's skills. He realized that if Yuki hadn't been a writer, he would have made an excellent chef. However, the image of a "calm" chef quickly faded as he remembered his father’s temper. He was less like a gourmet and more like Gordon Ramsay. His mother had often told him about his bad mood when a deadline was due; Riku shuddered at the thought.

By the time Riku snapped out of his thoughts, the participants had already started. They had been given a "mystery basket" of bizarre ingredients. Riku couldn't imagine what to make with them. Immediately, his mother’s “famous” (and questionable) stew came to mind—the one Michael always asked for seconds of.

“Tell us, Yuki-san, what do you think of these ingredients? Our participants have a difficult first round ahead.”

“Honestly, it seems like a fairly simple challenge,” Yuki said unperturbed, glancing at the salmon, bread, and jam. “The results might even be more digestible than ‘someone's’ home cooking,” he added, smiling directly into the camera.

“Yuki! You bastard! What did you mean by that?!” Shuichi yelled at the screen, while Riku couldn't help but nod in silent agreement.

“I agree with Yuki-san,” a female voice caught his attention. It was one of the judges sitting to Yuki's right on the panel. “Everything can turn out to be an interesting combination, even if salmon and jam don't seem like a good idea. I hope our contestants can turn it around and...”

“Who is she?! Why is she stealing Yuki’s lines?!” Shuichi continued to complain, ignoring the fact that there were two other judges on the panel.

The first round was over, and the contestants had to show the results of their dishes, which they had prepared in 30 minutes.

“Our first participant, Chef Yukihira, present your dish to the judges.” The youthful-looking chef stepped forward, placing the three dishes on the table for tasting. The young chef gave a summary of his creation, a kind of salmon sandwich that didn't seem to impress the judges much, until he invited them to try it.

Shuichi bit his nails as he watched Yuki taste it without flinching.

“This is it!” The sandwich slipped from his hands. The judges beside him seemed to be holding back for some reason, their cheeks red.

“I don't understand,”said Shuichi, looking somewhat puzzled at their expressions. The judge could barely move her hand to give the score. Yuki wiped his mouth with the napkin in a refined manner and also gave his verdict.

09 - 08 - 09 

(Total: 26 points).

“A strong start! Chef Yukihira almost got a perfect score, though Yuki-san was a bit lower. Any comments?”

“I liked the combination of flavors, but for me it wasn't enough. Something was missing to complete the integration of the flavors and...”

The audience hung on every word. Shuichi began cheering for Yuki as if the writer were the one competing.

The second dish passed without incident, as did the third.

“Does Yuki-san have anything to say?”

“It reminds me of a certain person's stew...”

That was the comment, and Riku immediately understood how bad that dish was, although those present did not understand the meaning of those words.

The last participant managed to make an impact with a somewhat peculiar dish.  By this point, the fate of the chef in the middle was already known. His farewell was sad and unfortunate, as he was thrown off a cliff and nothing more was heard of him.

It seemed as if the ingredients in the basket had been chosen by a blind person. Chicken and chocolate for the starter round?

Shuichi looked worried. His Yuki could get sick if he ate that junk.


The scores for the starter weren't very impressive. Yuki seemed offended to see raw chicken on his plate. He hadn't even lifted his cutlery to check the piece of chicken; he knew just by looking at it. The chef was about to commit seppuku for such disrespect.


“This seems more like a psychological torture program,” Riku muttered when he saw the young chef being handed a sword.

“It’s exciting! American shows are never this passionate,” Michael said, watching as they hauled away the participant's corpse.

The final round was dessert. For some reason, Riku saw a special sparkle in his father's eyes. Of course, damn desserts were his weakness, and they also had him one step away from diabetes.

One of the contestants surprised everyone with a sophisticated French dessert that had the judges drooling. Yuki was just waiting for them to tell him he could eat it when they said they were going to a commercial break, and then he knew that Japan could see Yuki Eiri's killer stare.

“We're back to Food! Battle Royale, our distinguished judges were about to judge one of the finalists' desserts, but there was something we had forgotten to mention. Not only will the winner take home a wonderful sum of 100,000 yen, but they will also have the pleasure of dining with Yuki Eiri at...”

“Mom?” Riku blinked. The spot on the sofa next to him was empty.

“I think your mother used his teletransportation technique ,” Michael noted, pointing at the screen.

Chaos erupted on set. People were screaming, and a figure dressed as Jason from Friday the 13th stormed the stage.

“Breaking news! Our star judge, Yuki Eiri, has been kidnapped!” the host shouted as the set inexplicably went up in flames. “It's been exciting, and we hope you'll join us next Thursday on Fuji TV.”

Rikuto Shindou's jaw hit the floor. He prayed to the earth to swallow him whole. What were the chances his classmates had seen that?