The school grounds were alive with a rare kind of energy, the kind that only lingered in the weeks leading up to the Interhigh Tournament. Students bustled through the halls, chatter echoing across classrooms and corridors, but amidst this excitement, Taro, Rukawa, and Watari had their own plans.
While most students balanced their studies and social lives with their club activities, Taro had maintained what Watari had dubbed his "sadistic training routine." It was a brutal schedule that left little room for rest or distractions. Morning runs at sunrise, weight training during lunch breaks, and grueling practice sessions after school all were meticulously designed to sharpen his skills and push his growing body to its limits.
"You do realize you're not a robot, right?" Watari had asked one afternoon as Taro dripped sweat onto the court, his shirt clinging to him like a second skin. "You keep this up, and the only thing you'll dominate at Interhigh is the stretcher."
Taro shrugged, grabbing his water bottle. "Can't let up now. The team's counting on me."
"Counting on you to still be alive, maybe," Watari muttered.
Even Rukawa, who rarely commented on anything outside of basketball or naps, had raised an eyebrow when Taro showed up one morning with fresh bruises on his arms from post-drill collisions. "You need to sleep more," Rukawa said bluntly. "You'll collapse."
But Taro's determination outweighed any concerns or good advice. Each day, his footwork grew more precise and his endurance stronger. He wasn't just preparing to play; he was preparing to lead. His growing strength didn't go unnoticed either. Taro could feel it in the way he moved, the power behind his jumps. The satisfaction of dunking, even semi-competently, was a quiet but important milestone, one that pushed him to keep pushing his limits.
Even so, his relentless training left Watari and Rukawa shaking their heads in unison. "Masochist," Watari had muttered one evening, watching Taro hoist large weights in the gym after a two-hour practice. "He's an absolute masochist."
Taro only grinned as he kept working out.
Rukawa, true to form, had declared the world his bed. The basketball court's benches, the shaded corners of the school's outdoor garden, a haystack by the horse stables, and even under the cupboards in the culinary club, much to their chagrin were all fair game for his impromptu naps. While his penchant for sleeping remained unmatched, he had started working better with the team during practice, passing more and participating in drills though begrudgingly showing surprising flashes of teamwork. Still, his eccentric habits remained a constant source of concern.
Rin, however, was less than amused by his unpredictability. After hearing reports that Rukawa had once been spotted biking while asleep, she decided drastic measures were needed to ensure that he was on time for practice, passed his classes and stayed alive (Importance in that order). Assigned Watari the thankless task of keeping tabs on Rukawa, she made it clear this wasn't negotiable.
Watari carried out the job with a mix of grumbling and ingenuity, often locating Rukawa in the most obscure places, waking him up, and then quickly disappearing before Rukawa could fully process what was happening. Taro once joked that Watari was taking his advice not to "startle" Rukawa, but Watari admitted the truth: he didn't want to get punched. Despite the annoyance, Watari managed to get Rukawa to practice and keep him out of harm's way, though how long his patience would last was anyone's guess.
Rukawa, for his part, remained blissfully unaware of Watari's efforts. He was slightly shocked, though, at how he had seemingly gotten better at arriving on time, chalking it up to luck, some newfound subconscious clock or some skill he had developed. Still, he was extremely proud of himself.
After practice one day, Watari decided it was time for Taro to meet his childhood friends, Kousei and Tsubaki at a cafe near the school.
The café was a hive of activity, its warm lighting and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee creating a cozy atmosphere. There was even a piano in there. The café was alive with conversation, laughter, and the clinking of cups. Kousei and Tsubaki sat at their corner table, Tsubaki sipping her lemonade while Kousei absently stirred his, his eyes lost in the swirl of the liquid.
Watari, facing the door, leaned back in his chair, his grin widening as a familiar towering figure ducked into the café. The doorframe just barely cleared Taro's head, and Watari couldn't suppress a chuckle as the lively café began to quiet down.
The shift was subtle at first a lull in the chatter, heads turning ever so slightly. Then came the sound of deliberate, heavy footsteps. The vibrations reverberated through the floor, rhythmic and unhurried, each step accompanied by the faintest ripple in the lemonade glasses on the table.
Kousei frowned, staring at his drink as the ripples caught his attention. "Weird…" he murmured. "Why is it doing that?"
Tsubaki glanced around, her brow furrowing. "Is it just me, or did it get really quiet in here?"
Watari's grin widened further, but he said nothing, his eyes fixed on the approaching figure. His hands casually reached for his drink, as if preparing for the inevitable.
The footsteps grew louder, the vibrations more pronounced. The shadow of something or someone large fell over the table, blocking the warm sunlight that had been streaming through the café window. Tsubaki and Kousei stiffened, exchanging a wary glance. Slowly, their eyes rose as a deep, unfamiliar voice broke the silence.
"Hello. Nice to meet Watari's friends. He mentions you a lot."
Kousei and Tsubaki jumped in unison, their chairs screeching against the floor as they scrambled back slightly hearts caught in their thoughts. Kousei's hand jerked, nearly tipping his lemonade, while Tsubaki's eyes went wide, her mouth opening in a startled gasp.
"Taro!" Watari exclaimed, breaking into a laugh. "Perfect entrance! Ten out of ten. You nailed it!"
Taro blinked, looking genuinely confused as he glanced between Kousei and Tsubaki. "Did… I scare you? I didn't mean to."
Tsubaki pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. "Scare us? You just—you just appeared out of nowhere! And those footsteps… it felt like an earthquake was happening!"
"Yeah," Kousei added, his voice shaky. "The whole table was shaking!"
Taro frowned, shifting his weight awkwardly as he sat down carefully, the chair creaking slightly under him. "Oh. Sorry about that. I guess I didn't notice." He hesitated, then gave a nervous smile. "Uh, hi. I'm Taro. Nice to meet you."
"It's fine," Tsubaki said, her hand still hovering near her glass. "I'm Tsubaki, and that's Kousei."
Kousei nodded, though his eyes darted nervously between Taro and his lemonade. Watari, of course, couldn't let the moment pass without a grin.
"Taro, meet my oldest friends," Watari said. "Don't worry they'll get used to you."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Tsubaki replied dryly, before turning her attention back to Taro. "So, Watari tells us you have a pretty scary manager. Rin, right?"
"Scary?" Taro blinked, tilting his head. "Rin? What are you talking about? She's a cutie. She wouldn't hurt a fly."
Tsubaki raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? Watari makes it sound like she's some kind of monster."
"Yeah," Kousei added, glancing at Watari. "You said she's terrifying."
"She is terrifying!" Watari exclaimed, his hands flying up. "Taro's only saying that because she likes him. Me? She looks at me like she hates my guts."
Taro chuckled. "She doesn't dislike you, Watari. But for some reason, you do hide behind me the second you see her."
"That's because I value my life," Watari shot back. "She's terrifying. Like, 'plan-your-funeral' terrifying."
"She's not that bad," Taro replied, shaking his head with a grin. "You're just dramatic."
"I'm practical!" Watari insisted. "You try being on the receiving end of one of her lectures. She made me responsible for keeping Rukawa alive and on time, for crying out loud. Do you know how hard it is to stop someone from napping in a cupboard filled of knives? Or walking whilst asleep?!"
Taro snorted. "You're not wrong there. Rukawa's practically a professional at falling asleep anywhere. But I think Rin assigned you that job because she trusts you, not because she wants to kill you."
"Trust?" Watari said, deadpan. "Sure, let's go with that. Trust me to clean up Rukawa's messes before they become news headlines."
Tsubaki and Kousei exchanged glances before bursting into laughter, while Taro just shook his head, still smiling. "You've got your work cut out for you, Watari."
As the conversation shifted, the trio slipped into a rhythm of inside jokes and stories, their words overlapping in a way that made Taro feel like he was chasing a moving target.
"Remember when Kousei tried to teach himself how to juggle?" Watari started, leaning back with a grin.
Kousei groaned, already covering his face. "Don't."
"Oh, come on!" Tsubaki laughed. "You couldn't even catch one ball, let alone three!"
"I was trying," Kousei muttered, his ears turning pink. "It's harder than it looks!"
"Not when you're throwing them directly at your face," Watari added, bursting into laughter.
The jokes continued, flowing faster than Taro could keep up. Despite his best efforts, he found himself mostly watching, smiling at the dynamic they shared. Still, he felt comfortable not fully inside the circle, but not entirely outside it either thanks to Watari's efforts.
As they got up to leave, Taro smiled, his earlier nerves fading. "Thanks for letting me join you guys. It was nice meeting you."
Tsubaki grinned. "Nice meeting you too, Taro. Try not to give others heart attacks."
"I'll do my best," Taro replied with a small smile.
Watari clapped him on the back. "Not bad, big guy. You survived meeting my childhood friends. That's no small feat."
Taro chuckled, shaking his head. "Thanks for introducing me. You've got good friends, Watari."
Taro didn't only meet others friends he also somehow made his own friends. He'd always kept to himself, thinking he was fine flying solo. But somehow, he ended up with a group of friends that he never saw coming. It all started with a random encounter in the cafeteria just a simple lunch, or so he thought. That lunch quickly spiraled into something much stranger, and surprisingly, more fun.
It wasn't like he went out of his way to make friends, but somehow, he ended up surrounded by people who were all... a little different. It wasn't the kind of group you'd expect to see together, but it worked. There was Erina Nakiri, a culinary prodigy who seemed to float around with the kind of royal grace that made everyone else look like they were trying too hard. Ikumi Mito was full of energy and confidence, the kind of person who practically owned a room just by walking into it. Then there was Artoria, calm and composed, with an almost otherworldly air about her. Kazuto Kirigaya, the quiet gamer, lived in his own little tech bubble, lost in his games. Kōrai Hoshiumi was the ball of energy, always bouncing around with a fierce determination. And his perfect counterbalance, Sachirō Hirugami, was laid-back and easygoing, able to calm the storm that was Hoshiumi.
None of them had expected to click. They were all so different, each one strange in their own way, but somehow, it just worked. Over time, what started as a random assortment of personalities turned into something more a true, albeit chaotic, friend group.
What surprised Taro most was how naturally they all started gravitating toward each other. His unassuming attitude and practicality seemed to resonate with the group, even as their quirks kept him on his toes. One day, while wandering the halls near the culinary club after practice, he was lured in by the mouthwatering aroma of grilling meat. The scent hit him like a tidal wave rich, smoky, and perfectly spiced and for a moment, his exhaustion evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming need to find the source.
"Hey, Taro-kun! Come taste this," Ikumi's voice rang out from the doorway, her golden eyes glinting with challenge as she flipped a piece of meat on a sizzling grill. She was dressed in a snug crop top that left little to the imagination, her toned midriff on full display and her large chest threatening to spill out with every movement. Taro's eyes instinctively darted away, his ears burning as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Me?" he asked, trying to focus on the sizzling meat rather than Ikumi herself.
"Yes, you," she said, rolling her eyes with an amused smirk. "Don't act so shy now. You look like you eat enough to judge anything." Caught between hunger and flustered confusion, Taro stepped inside, doing his best to focus on the food. "Uh, sure. What is it?" "Just try it," Ikumi replied, holding out a perfectly grilled slice of beef with a confident grin. "I promise it's better than anything you've had in the cafeteria." The explosion of flavor was instant.
The smoky, savory richness of the meat hit his taste buds with an intensity he wasn't prepared for. His eyes widened as his entire body seemed to react. It felt like a bolt of lightning coursed through him, his muscles tensing as if his very soul had been awakened. The world around him disappeared, replaced by a vision of dramatic culinary fireworks bursting in the sky, the meat at the center of it all like an undisputed champion. "This... this is incredible!" Taro exclaimed, his voice rising with the sheer euphoria of the moment. It felt as though his clothes might tear apart from the sheer force of the experience, the flavor hitting every nerve like an unstoppable wave. His mind swam with metaphors of roaring applause, fireworks, and heavenly symphonies. Ikumi grinned triumphantly, leaning on the counter. "Told you. When it comes to meat, no one can beat me." Taro took a deep breath, finally regaining some semblance of composure. "I think my soul just left my body," he muttered, staring at the empty plate in disbelief.
That first taste-testing session turned into somewhat of a regular occurrence before Taro even realized it. What started as a quick bite in the culinary club became a regular invitation to sample dishes, and before long, Taro was roped into judging Shokugekis between the two girls. At first, he thought it was just because he could eat a lot without complaint. But his straightforward critiques blunt, maybe a little unpolished seemed to catch the attention of even Erina Nakiri.
"You're unrefined," Erina had remarked after one of his earlier critiques, her sharp gaze fixed on him like a hawk sizing up prey. "But you notice things others miss. That's... acceptable."
That was apparently a compliment
Of course, Taro wasn't the only one invited. Artoria, was a regular addition to these tastings as well. Her calm, collected demeanor added a sense of balance to the chaos, though her critiques were no less sharp than Erina's.
"This needs work," Artoria said flatly during one food war or Shokugeki, placing her fork down with precision. "The sauce overpowers the base flavors. It's a poor choice for such quality ingredients."
"Yeah," Taro added, nodding as he wiped his mouth. "It's not bad, but you don't need so much sauce. The meat can carry itself."
Ikumi, standing by the grill with her arms crossed, shot them both a fiery glare. "You two are impossible," she huffed, though the grin tugging at her lips suggested she didn't mind the challenge.
What made it all surreal for Taro was the realization that all of these girls seemed to come from noble or well-off families. Erina's patrician background and Artoria's British lineage spoke for themselves, and even Ikumi, with her fiery personality and bold demeanor, was from the prestigious Mito family, leaders in Japan's meat industry.
But it wasn't just that, it was their looks? That was an entirely different kind of torment. Taro wasn't naive; he'd lived long enough to recognize beauty. But this? This was something else entirely almost supernatural in its intensity. They weren't just attractive; They were unreasonable they all looked like they were airbrushed Victoria Secret models, each of their movements dripping with seduction he'd never imagined possible.
Erina moved with the grace of royalty, her every gesture deliberate and poised. Her high cheekbones and smoldering, almond-shaped eyes radiated a cold elegance that both invited and rejected any approach. But it wasn't just her face it was the way she carried herself. Her every movement, fluid and precise, made it impossible not to notice the subtle sway of her chest, the way her figure seemed to almost glide with an intoxicating allure. She radiated a queenly aura that made him feel small and weak in her presence, as if the world itself bowed to her beauty and every calculated step was designed to mesmerize.
Artoria was a vision of refined allure, her features so perfectly sculpted they seemed more suited to a masterpiece than the real world. Her piercing eyes, intense and unwavering, seemed to look right through him. When her lips curved into that faint, knowing smile, Taro's breath hitched in his throat, unable to look away. It wasn't just her gaze it was how she moved. Her every step had a deliberate grace, the slight shift of her hips as she walked a silent invitation he could never quite ignore. There was an almost divine quality to her presence, and for a moment, he could almost believe she belonged to another world entirely.
And then there was Ikumi wild, untamed, and unabashedly confident. She relished in keeping Taro off balance, her presence constantly stirring the air around him. Whether it was a sudden, playful jump that had him stumbling, or a moment when she would lean in too close, her gaze intense and playful, Ikumi seemed to find amusement in making him sweat. She would move in, her body pressing against him in such a way that made his pulse race, her proximity both unnerving and undeniable. Every gesture, every look, was designed to unsettle him, her boldness never wavering, always testing his composure with the same unwavering confidence.
They weren't just beautiful they were dangerous. Angels, sirens, or something darker, Taro couldn't decide. What he did know was that they were utterly aware of their power. Every glance they cast his way was a loaded weapon, every teasing word a carefully set trap, every brush of their bodies a strategic maneuver to leave him breathless.
"Taro-kun," Ikumi purred during one particularly intense Shokugeki, her voice sultry. She was dressed boldly, even for her, wearing only a bikini on her upper body. It was impossible not to notice, and she knew exactly the effect it was having.
As she set her plate before him, she grabbed his arm, pressing it snugly around her boobs. Taro's thoughts scrambled as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear.
"Isn't my meal," she whispered, her tone sultry and teasing, "the best, hottest meal you've ever tasted?"
Taro's brain short-circuited. He could feel every ounce of heat radiating from her presence not just her proximity but the intensity of her confidence. His eyes darted to the plate, desperate for some kind of anchor, but Ikumi wasn't done. Before pulling away, she pressed a light, lingering kiss to his cheek, her soft lips sending a jolt through his already rattled composure.
"There," she said with a grin, stepping back just enough to let him breathe, though she kept his arm firmly locked against her. "Now you've got all the motivation you need to choose wisely."
Taro's face burned brightly, his heart racing as he tried to form a coherent thought. "Uh... it, uh, looks great," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "But I… I need to try everyone's before deciding."
The moment was shattered by the sharp scrape of a fork against a plate. Erina Nakiri's expression was frosty, her violet eyes narrowed into a glare that radiated barely contained irritation. "Taro," she said crisply, her voice cutting through the tension, "this is a competition. Focus on the food, not... distractions."
Next to her, Artoria's calm demeanor remained unshaken, though her piercing gaze silently drove the same point home. "Stay focused, Taro," she added evenly. "Personal theatrics shouldn't sway your judgment."
Ikumi simply smirked, crossing her arms as she finally released his arm. "What's the matter Erina? Can't handle a little pressure?"
Taro swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the plate. The perfectly grilled meat glistened with seasoning, the aroma making his stomach growl despite the chaos around him. He took a bite, letting the flavors ground him in the moment.
"It's... really good," he admitted, his voice still slightly shaky. "The seasoning is strong, but it works perfectly with the cut."
Ikumi's grin widened, her confidence practically radiating. "Knew you'd love it, Taro-kun. You've got excellent taste."
Before she could press further, Erina pushed her plate forward with an air of authority. "Judge mine next," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Artoria nodded, her calm gaze never wavering. "Make sure the evaluation is fair this time."
Caught between Ikumi's bold flirtation, Erina's commanding presence, and Artoria's unyielding discipline, Taro felt like he was balancing on a knife's edge. Yet, as chaotic as it was, he couldn't help but feel like he'd somehow found himself in a dynamic unlike anything he'd experienced before. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would.
Outside the culinary club, Taro's other friendships brought a different kind of chaos. In the computer room, Kazuto Kirigaya, a kendo prodigy and absurdly skilled gamer, quickly became a regular companion.
"You ready for this, Taro?" Kazuto asked one afternoon as they loaded into a Leauge of Legends.
"I think so," Taro replied only to find himself staring at a defeat screen minutes later.
"How are you this good?" Taro groaned. "Do you play games at every off hour??"
Kazuto smirked. "It's all about precision. You've got reflexes; you just need to use them."
Kazuto's tech skills weren't limited to games. When Taro mentioned missing watching NBA games, Kazuto quickly showed him how to find and download them. Within minutes, Taro was glued to a playoff replay, marveling at the possibilities.
Their time in the computer room became a much-needed escape for Taro where he could relax, watch basketball, and keep his competitive edge sharp against Kazuto's relentless gaming domination.
Despite the brutal losses, Taro relished the challenge. Kazuto was calm but ruthless, and playing against him forced Taro to adapt quickly. It was a refreshing change from the chaos of the Shokugekis
But outside of these friends he also had gained a rivalry with Kōrai Hoshiumi. Where most people saw Taro's towering height as an advantage, Hoshiumi saw it as a personal insult and a challenge. The compact, energetic volleyball player made it his mission to prove that speed and determination could outclass size, and he kept a meticulous score of every competition to back it up.
"You might be a giant," Hoshiumi declared one day as they prepared for a race to the gym. His voice was brimming with confidence. "But I'm faster, Taro. Let's settle it."
To Taro's surprise and mild frustration Hoshiumi was right. The smaller player zipped ahead effortlessly, leaving Taro trailing behind. But instead of getting annoyed, Taro found himself smiling. It wasn't often that someone could push him like this, and he relished the chance to compete.
"What's next?" Taro asked after their third race that week. "Eating contest? Vertical jump?"
"Both," Hoshiumi shot back, grinning ear to ear. "And I'll crush you in both. The score's already 3-0 in my favor."
"3-0?" Taro asked, raising an eyebrow. "We never even agreed on keeping score."
"Details," Hoshiumi said, waving him off. "Just focus on not losing."
Wherever Hoshiumi went, Sachirō Hirugami followed, his calm and steady demeanor acting as a balance to Hoshiumi's relentless energy. If Hoshiumi was the spark, Hirugami was the extinguisher, stepping in whenever things looked like they might get out of hand.
"Don't let him drag you into too much," Hirugami said with a chuckle after watching Hoshiumi challenge Taro to yet another sprint. "He's got endless energy but zero restraint."
"That's what makes it fun," Taro replied, already lining up for the next challenge. "Someone's got to keep him grounded."
"No one's grounding me!" Hoshiumi snapped, bouncing on his toes. "I'm proving size doesn't mean anything, Taro. By the end of the week, I'll be ten wins ahead."
Taro shook his head with a grin. "Let's see if you can keep that streak going."
Their rivalry became a near-daily affair, from races to lifting challenges (where Taro humored Hoshiumi) to ridiculous eating contests in the cafeteria. For every victory Hoshiumi claimed, Taro also made sure to remind him who still had the height advantage by placing stuff slightly out of reach for the shorter student.
But for all their competitiveness, there was a camaraderie behind the rivalry. Whether it was Hoshiumi's fire or Hirugami's steady encouragement, Taro found himself enjoying their presence more and more.
Despite their antics, the group often found themselves eating together in the cafeteria. However the other boys were not invited into to cullinimary club anymore when Erina caught wind of their food preferences during one particularly memorable taste test of some pizza Erina had made.
"I like bananas on my pizza," Kazuto had admitted casually, earning a horrified gasp from Erina.
Hoshiumi, never one to back down, nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, pineapple's great! It adds a little zing."
Erina froze, her fork hovering mid-air. "You... you what?" she said, her voice dripping with disbelief and horror.
Hirugami, sensing danger, tried to defuse the situation. "I mean some Anchovies wouldn't sit wrong"
"Silence," Erina snapped, her regal tone leaving no room for argument. She pointed dramatically toward the kitchen door. "All of you….out. I refuse to allow people with such abysmal taste to set foot in my sacred culinary space."
Kazuto and the volleyball duo were promptly banished from judging Shokugekis, their "terrible palates" deemed unworthy by Erina's exacting standards. While they protested loudly, Taro could only laugh, caught between the chaos of his friends and the unwavering authority of the Nakiri heir.
Even with all the challenges, banishments, and competitions, Taro couldn't help but feel like he'd found something special in this chaotic mix of personalities.
But that feeling was abruptly cut short during the final practice of the school day. As the team all gathered around, catching their breath and wiping sweat from their brows, Coach stepped forward, some real seriousness in his eyes.
"The preliminaries for the Inter-High tournament start tomorrow," Coach Hurley announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. "I hope you all are ready."
"And," Coach continued, "our first match is against, Senshinkan High, one of the Three Kings of Tokyo"