These two words perfectly capture Kuga Terunori's mental state at the moment.
He never imagined he could lose his composure so completely in front of a dish—so much so that he was on the verge of losing his mind.
As the eighth seat of the Elite Ten at Totsuki Academy, Kuga had always enjoyed a privileged life. Though his family wasn't as wealthy as the Nakiri family, it was well above average compared to most students at Totsuki. His exceptional cooking talent had paved the way for his success. His only blemish so far was losing a shokugeki last semester to the current first seat, Eishi Tsukasa. While he hadn't yet avenged that loss, his life had otherwise been stable.
But today, Kuga felt as though a meteorite had crashed into his once smooth life path. No, "blocked" didn't even begin to describe it—his road had been completely obliterated, leaving him with no hope ahead.
Being reduced to a follower for a first-year student? Running errands and doing chores? That was a fate worse than death.
Though he often acted carefree, Kuga's pride was no weaker than anyone else's. Doing chores for a first-year was unthinkable. Even if it were for Eishi Tsukasa, he would never stoop so low. But this—this was pure torture.
It was almost too much to bear.
Physically and mentally, he was teetering on the edge of collapse.
What kind of food was this? How could something have such devastating power?
The mere aroma of the dish had a tangible effect on his body. The thought of tasting it sent shivers through him. But no—he couldn't allow himself to give in. He had to leave this cursed place, challenge that arrogant first-year to a shokugeki, and wager his eighth seat if necessary.
The plan sounded simple in his head, but the reality was far harsher. Kneeling on the ground, Kuga spent 30 agonizing minutes wrestling with his pride. His mental strategies could fill a novel, but his situation remained unchanged. That dish seemed to possess a magic that bound his body, preventing him from leaving. He could only dream of walking away, but in truth, it was impossible.
Not only could he not leave, but his body was beginning to betray him. His stomach growled louder with every passing moment. If he didn't taste that dish soon…
Meanwhile, Alice, Hisako, and Erina were happily gathered around Shiraki, savoring every bite he fed them. If not for Shiraki pacing himself, the dish would have been gone long ago. The fact that Kuga had held out this long was astonishing.
Shiraki observed the situation and considered his options. If Kuga didn't break soon, he'd have to find an excuse to send him away and deal with the Elite Ten later. But just as Shiraki was about to act, Kuga suddenly stood up.
Dusting himself off, Kuga scratched his head and, with an almost casual expression, said, "Ahh, I agree."
His words drew shocked stares from the group. Erina, Hisako, and Alice turned simultaneously, their eyes wide in disbelief. Even Hisako, who had been lost in the dish's temptation moments earlier, couldn't believe what she had just heard.
The eighth seat of the Elite Ten, known for his discipline and pride, had actually… agreed to become a subordinate?
The shock didn't last long. Having tasted Shiraki's dish herself, Hisako could understand Kuga's reaction. Holding out for 30 minutes was impressive; she doubted she could last even five minutes against a dish like that. This wasn't a matter of self-control—this dish defied common sense. In Hisako's experience, no dish had ever exerted such physical and mental influence. Even the finest ingredients wouldn't have this effect on those accustomed to luxury. And yet, Shiraki had created something beyond comprehension.
Kuga's compromise felt inevitable to everyone present. After all, this dish was utterly unreasonable.
What were pride, status, or even the dignity of being an Elite Ten member when faced with such overwhelming temptation? Humans are creatures of desire, forever chasing satisfaction. And when a new, unparalleled pleasure presents itself, they abandon what once seemed sufficient in pursuit of it. That's human nature.
Shiraki smirked. His plan had worked perfectly. "Then, starting tomorrow, make sure to prepare my breakfast, lunch, and dinner on time," he instructed. "And don't try to slack off."
Handing Kuga a plate filled with the remaining portions of the dish, Shiraki was thankful he had prepared an extra serving. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been anything left.
"Truly toxic," Shiraki mused to himself, marveling at the dish's potent effects. The thought of experimenting with even more powerful culinary "chemicals" crossed his mind. But the image of cooking in a gas mask and protective suit made him dismiss the idea.
For now, everything was progressing smoothly. He'd return to the Polar Star Dorm and refine his plans further. As for the Elite Ten, Shiraki wasn't worried—they'd all eventually come to him, one way or another.