All's Fair in Love and Kitchen 2/4
-
“All I know is that at one point something happened at the other side of the kitchen, but I had no time for that.”
- Kame
-
“It was a mess. A mess. Yamapi made this stupid mistake and collided with Maki, and then… I don’t know, plates were crashing on the floor and two meals ready to go were destroyed. It wasn’t a nice sight.”
- Yuya
-
“I’m not always like that. I don’t-I’m not an angry person. But tonight was hard and I think… I think I lost it a little. And now I feel bad about all the shouting.”
- Maki
-
“… and I said, you want me to leave? You want me to walk out of that door and not come back? Well, fuck you. Not gonna happen.”
- Yamapi
-
The night isn’t a complete disaster.
Despite the accident, Yamapi bounces back rather smoothly and by the end of the service, his and Nakamaru’s meat station is back in the game. They get two compliments about steaks, and that makes the difference.
Compliments are rare here.
More often than not, there’s no direct reaction. People eat their meals, and the contestants learn the verdict from recorded videos.
The orders slow down eventually.
Kame takes off his cap, wipes sweat off his forehead and runs fingers through his hair-he must look like a mess. His hair wet and droopy, and more curly than usually. He quickly puts the cap on again.
“I think we’re doing good.”
Meisa leans against the counter next to him; she doesn’t seem impressed. “We could do better.”
-
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have the first ‘Compliments to the chef’ message of the evening. Yamapi. Nakamaru, your steak made an impression.”
“Really? Wow!”
“Yes! Who’s the boss now?”
-
“When the first compliment came through, for a second there I was hoping it would be for our team.”
- Kame
-
“I think that everyone wanted to be praised tonight. It doesn’t happen often.”
- Yuya
-
There are no other orders for their station at the moment, but the kitchen isn’t closed yet and even the smallest sign of idling or looking bored might get them into troubles. Kame already feels stupid that his baseball cap became Takizawa’s punching bag right at the beginning of the evening. If it’s for some reason brought up again during the final rating, not only Meisa won’t forgive him, but he’ll kick his own ass, too.
The problem is, anything can rub Takizawa the wrong way.
Before it was Meisa’s heels. Tonight Kame’s cap. And in between, the way Yuya holds a knife, Yamapi’s habit to sing or mutter while cooking, Maki being easily frightened. There’s no pattern and no rule of a thumb, which leaves them all in this constant state of mild panic and high on guard. No wonder they are either exhausted or in need of a drink.
Kame grabs a cloth and wipes the counter, even though it’s relatively clean. Better safe than sorry, though.
Takizawa moves around the kitchen under a pretense of being curious how everyone is doing. The truth is-that is exactly what he’s doing. He wants to see them screw up, because the cameras want to see them screw up because the audience wants to see them screw up.
Meisa wiggles her toes. She’s barefoot again, even though she wasn’t wearing heels tonight. It’s a part of her image now, though. She’s expected to take off her shoes the moment she enters the kitchen, even though the floor could get slippery over the course of the evening service.
Compared to Meisa who has to always keep a part of her mind focused on not stepping on something wet and gross dropped on the foor, Kame’s life is much easier right now.
When a new order lands in front of them, it’s almost a relief.
They have things to do again.
It’s a salmon, and Meisa is good at that, so without too much argueing Kame leaves her in charge of a frying pan and starts with the rest of the dish. They’ve made two of these tonight already, so the whole process is pretty smooth. Kame cuts onions and carrots, blazes them with a spoon of sugar. It doesn’t take more than two minutes, and then it’s up to Meisa to take over and cover the nicely pink colored fish with the vegetable paste.
Kame turns away only for a second to get a warmed up plate.
“Get your filthy hands of my fish, Nishikido, or I swear to god you’ll have troubles holding a spoon tomorrow.”
Kame flips around at the sound of Meisa’s irritated growl.
Ryo’s hands are lifted up in front of him in a gesture of surrender, though the cocky tone of his voice is anything but apologetic. “Calm down, Princess, I’m just making sure you don’t screw up.”
“I-what?” Meisa is seething. “Get the hell out of here!” She’s gripping the pan handle so hard her knuckles are whitening. Kame is a little worried the content might end up in Ryo’s face instead of arranged on a plate and delivered to the table.
“Look, it’s for table 13, right?” Ryo goes on, unfazed. “They just had the best appetizer in history, and I’m in for the next compliment tonight-however, if you ruin their taste buds with some shit, that’s all they will remember.” He shrugs. “I’m just watching my back.”
And that’s it.
Ryo once again leans forward to peek into the pan.
Meisa bats him away with a free hand. “I said piss off!”
“I’m not doing anything,” Ryo pouts.
As expected, the cameras are right there in no time to film the unfolding incident, and while Meisa is pushing Ryo away, Kame quickly slips behind her back, unceremoniously loads the salmon on the plate and sprinkles it with final decorations before handing it to the waiting waitress. The girl’s face is hazed over with an expressionless veil, just like the rest of the staff. They just want to do their job and avoid the unavoidable drama around.
A part of Kame wishes he could step into invisibility, too.
He can’t, so instead he joins Meisa and helps her send Ryo back to his rightful station.
The cameras have a field day tonight. Kame hates it.
-
“No one-no one steps into my kitchen space and tells me what to do. I don’t care who you are-I mean, not even Takizawa-fucking-Hideaki steps into my kitchen space and lectures me about how to season a fucking fish, are we clear?”
- Meisa
-
“It was the worst timing. If Ryo wanted a fight, he could’ve just come over and start one, but doing it at that very moment made everything ten times worse.”
- Kame
-
“A dinner is as good as the last course you remember eating, so it doesn’t matter if the appetizer-my appetizer-is otherworldly, because if the main course sucks or clashes with the taste, the guest won’t remember it. Man, I hate making appetizers.”
- Ryo
-
“Hey you.”
Kame looks up and sees Jin standing at the end of the aisle between the counters. It’s a surprise. Everyone except Kame and Maki left to have a night out earlier, and not even Nakamaru was back by 11PM. Maki locked herself up in her room right after wishing Kame goodnight around 8:30. At least he’s not the only antisocial, boring weirdo around.
-
“You did well tonight.”
“You think so? We didn’t get any compliments, though, and Ryo…”
“… was being himself. Don’t worry about him.”
“I try. I just didn’t expect this all to be so hard, you know? Anyway, thanks, Kame. Goodnight.”
-
Now it must be past midnight again; not that Kame keeps track of time. He’s left his wrist watch upstairs in the room and from his position on the floor he can’t see the big clock on the wall somewhere behind him.
“I was hoping you’d be here.”
“Really? Why?”
Jin doesn’t move. “Because it’s our first night off in three days, and I kind of missed talking to you? I mean, besides exchanging cooking directions in the kitchen.”
Oh.
Kame has almost convinced himself the midnight scallops never happened.
He’s walked the wobbly line of having an affair with someone from the same kitchen before and it didn’t end well. Just being attracted to Jin distracts Kame from the main reason of being here.
“You should’ve come with us, you know?”
“I didn’t want to impose on you and your cool people club,” Kame mumbles. It sounds stupid even to himself, but it’s still better than admitting that he keeps a distance from Jin in order not to develop a silly high-school crush. On a guy. A bitter, bordering on hysterical, laughter gets stuck in Kame’s throat. No amount of on-camera fights between Ryo and Meisa would beat the big revelation that one of the participants of Kitchen Wars is gay. Kame could usher himself out of the door and buy a one way ticket back to Paris right away.
“My-what?”
“You, Ryo, and Yamapi. Meisa. I can’t see myself fitting in there.” God, he’s pathetic. This is exactly why he prefers being The Popular Chef Kamenashi™ over being his normal boring self.
Before Kame is aware of his silence, Jin takes another step forward.
“Bullshit, it was fun, and you’d have fit just fine. Even Nakamaru had fun. Oh, and who would’ve known Yuya is such a drinker.” There’s a quiet chuckle at the end of his words.
Kame shrugs. “I just… didn’t feel like going, I guess.”
“Next time?”
Jin plops down next to him. He still smells like a bar with bad ventilation and cigarettes. A lingering scent of fine whisky, too. And under all of that, a scent of kitchen. Not burnt oil, or raw fish, but kitchen as a whole, with all smells mixed together, faint but ever-present, so outsiders would either not catch it at all, or would find it overwhelming. Kame isn’t an outsider. He likes it.
It smells like everything he loves about cooking.
“Maybe,” he says, in that tone that could be easily translated as, “I’m saying maybe but I already know I’ll find a reason to be busy when the time comes.”
Jin either doesn’t hear it that way, or gives Kame a leeway.
“That is a yes then,” Jin grins, kind of smug.
Kame shakes his head. He should be in bed. Sleeping. It’s been a long day, a couple of days. The show is on the roll and besides the regular filmings of two episodes a week, there are also live events outside the filming schedule, and this week has been packed with that stuff. He’s tired, exhausted-he’s way past the point where lying down and closing one’s eyes brings the sweet embrace of sleep. He’s turning into a zombie.
“You also missed a bomb explosion of the year.” Kame must look confused, because Jin continues without needing to be prompted. “Meisa and Ryo. Making out in public. In a corner of our booth, sure, but still, with people all around.”
That… is an information worth staying up for, even though Kame isn’t one to be too interested in other people’s drama.
Live and let live, that’s the thing.
But Meisa and Ryo-that is something that has a potential to cause troubles to everyone on Kitchen Wars.
Kame recovers enough to realize he hasn’t said anything yet, so he tries, “Shit.”
Jin chuckles. “Yeah, that was the generally accepted reaction. I think they were at least a bit drunk by the time it happaned-not that it’s an excuse, or anything. Yamapi thinks it was all that bottled up sexual tension from earlier.”
“Sexual-tension from earlier? You mean, the argument in my kitchen? Shit.” After a double check, that still sounds like the best reaction.
“They have been in each other’s hair from the start and today it all just kinda of… boom.” Jin throws his hands up.
“That’s crazy. How much drunk were they?” Like that doesn’t matter.
“A couple drinks down? I don’t know. All I know is that Meisa was the one throwing herself at Ryo, and she didn’t seem drunk five minutes before.” Jin shrugs his shoulders. “Ryo, well, he just kind of went along with it.”
“Do you think they will remember what happened come tomorrow morning?”
Tomorrow is a Showdown day, and the last thing any of them needs is adding unresolved-or drunkenly resolved-sexual tension into the flaring mess of reasons why to nominate someone to leave the show. So far there have been two Showdowns and both were quite easy. First to go was Kusano; everyone but Jin voted him out, because by general consensus, Kusano was a jerk who didn’t want to be there at all, anyway. Why he’d signed up in the first place was left unanswered. Then, the one leaving last week, was Minami. The voting was tight between her and Meisa. Minami was useless as a teamplayer and some people were afraid she’d ruin things for them in the future, while others were more afraid of Meisa’s cooking skills and strong personality.
In both cases, Takizawa understood the reasons for their picks and agreed with them, sending home those who received the majority of votes. It doesn’t have to always be that way, though. The votes work as a guidance, but at the end of the day, it’s solely up to Takizawa to make the final choice.
That doesn’t help cool down anxiety at all.
No amount of strategical planning can beat Takizawa’s decision.
When Jin looks up and meets Kame’s eyes, the concern Kame feels is mirroring in Jin’s face, though Jin’s realization of possible consequences is fresh. Until now the events of the evening have been nothing but funny, but Kame has just offered him another angle, a bigger picture.
Because that’s what Kame does. Kame sees the show for what it is. Not just cooking, not just heightened emotions and a thin line between shaky patience and irritation. Kame sees people playing games, because they want to win. He saw Meisa being nervous because the dish she was presenting wasn’t her usual level of perfect. It was like having a rare opportunity to steal a glance under the mask she’s so meticulously built around herself. Kame knows Yamapi voted Minami out last week because in the bigger picture, they need to keep the talented chefs in in order to win team contests. On the other hand, Ryo was the loudest about sending home Meisa. To him, she’s a threat, and whatever has happened tonight could be Ryo’s plan to get rid of her.
When Kame thinks of it, the strategy part of participating in Kitchen Wars is just as exhausting as the cooking itself. And in the end, it can easily be for nothing, because Takizawa can sweep strategy off the table with a vote of his own that pretty much beats all other votes.
Bless the quiet of the kitchen during the night.
Jin’s occasional company helps, too.
“I want to say no, but I’m afraid we won’t be so lucky,” Jin says regretfully. “Like I said, they weren’t so drunk, and I think I’ve spotted a hickey on Ryo’s neck when we got back here. He will remember tonight in details.” Jin thinks for a moment, replaying the night out in his head. “Meisa most likely too. Let’s just say, tomorrow Showdown will be interesting.”
“No kidding.”
“It would be cool if they stopped fighting now, though.”
“Meisa is kind of scary when Ryo is around,” Kame chuckles. It’s easier to just think about the incident in the kitchen today as something in the past, not something he was a part of and that could’ve fucked up his own participation on the show. The temptation to vote for Meisa tomorrow grows bigger, but the strategical part of Kame’s brain tells him the timing isn’t right yet. For now, Ryo poses a much bigger threat.
Jin laughs, too.
When the laughter dies out, Jin says, “I’m thinking of voting Ryo out tomorrow.”
That is… wow. And not only because Kame was just thinking the same thing. “Really?”
“Don’t get me wrong, we’re friends. He’s one of the few people here who I’d like to keep in touch with also outside. You know, in real world. He’s a great chef, too, but so are you, or Nakamaru. Everyone here-”
“Including you.”
Jin gives Kame a flash of a smile, and it may be just the shitty night lights, but it looks like his cheeks flush a little.
“Do I think he deserves to win? Sure, but so do the others. But I also see what I didn’t see with Kusano the first week. Ryo creates drama for no reason other than to draw the cameras and entrance the audience.”
“It’s his tactic. He gives people the show they want.”
Kame should know. He helped today.
“What if he uses Meisa to rise even more stir?”
“He’s been already doing it. He must know his presence sets her off, that’s why he came over to our station today to talk shit. What if the next time he speaks on camera, instead of complaining about her fried salmon, he tells people what it’s like to kiss her? Having a thing with someone from the same kitchen is bad enough even without a whole camera crew behind your back.”
Kame should remember that the next time he looks at Jin for a little longer than a polite, friendly conversation requires, or when his thoughts stray to wondering about what it would feel like to have Jin touch him, or when a drop of cream sticks to Jin’s lip and Kame’s first impulse is to lick it, or reach up and wipe it off with a thumb so he could feel the softness of Jin’s mouth.
Jin tilts his head. “That sounds like speaking from experience.” There it is, that grin again.
“Kind of?”
“So you wouldn’t be interested in anyone here? I mean, we’ve been mostly locked up together for almost three weeks now, and while I can see the shit-show that’s most likely rolling our way with this whole Ryo/Meisa thing, in a way I’m not surprised it happened.”
“Really?” Kame feels a little like an idiot because his ability to form sentences seems temporarily limited.
Is he interested in anyone here?
Funny it’s Jin who is asking…
Jin runs a hand through his hair, and Kame follows the move with his eyes. His own fingers twitch to do the same.
“What about Maki? She even stayed here tonight with you.”
That makes Kame laugh. “With me? We said our goodnight’s early on and I haven’t seen her since. If she had a reason not to go out with all of you tonight, it wasn’t me.”
He tries to replay the brief interaction with Maki, but there’s nothing pointing to Jin being right.
“Are you sure?” Jin presses on.
“One hundred percent sure.” And then Kame keeps talking, and damn, it was really better when he couldn’t stitch three words together in a sentence just a moment ago. “And besides, she couldn’t be farther from my type.”
Jin grins. “So you like them fierce, like Meisa?”
“What? Not really.” Kame frowns. What is going on? “I’m not discussing this with you.”
Jin leans back, his legs stretched on the tiled floor; he’s sitting sprawled and comfortable, with a sort of smug twitch in the corner of his lips. His head is turned to Kame, resting against the cabinet behind his back. The pale light glowing from the fluorescent lamps on the ceiling highlight the contrast of Jin’s dark hair and eyes against his skin, as well as the shadows of his jawline.
Kame can’t take his eyes of Jin.
Jin looks thoughtful, like he’s trying hard to figure something out, to mold over words before asking again-there are no other girls on the show anymore, and given that both Meisa and Maki are very attractive, it doesn’t make sense that Kame isn’t interested in either of them. Not like that, anyway. He can appreciate female beauty just fine. He just doesn’t want to make out with Meisa in a corner of a bar after one too many drinks, and he wouldn’t know how to react if Maki tried to flirt with him.
Then Jin bites his lip. His eyes darken with a resolution. One Kame is oblivious of until there’s a slow-motion scene happening around him.
Jin shifts closer, leans forward, meets Kame’s eyes one last time, and then the world shrinks into nothing but the tingling, soft feeling of Jin’s lips pressed against Kame’s. The lips Kame was so curious about just a minute ago; they are all Kame imagined and more, full and warm and tasting lightly of alcohol.
He should pull back and fake being scandalized.
He doesn’t.
It’s Jin who starts pulling away first, actually. His lips tremble against Kame’s and then they are gone, replaced with a puff of warm breath when Jin mumbles something, probably curses himself and his action, because he’s kissed Kame and Kame hasn’t kissed back.
A kiss.
Right.
Kame’s brain kicks back in, and before Jin can pull all the way back and awkwardly pretend it all has been a misunderstanding and that Kame shouldn’t read more into it than that-a weak apology Kame used before a few times, so he should know all about it-, Kame’s hand is pulling Jin back.
This time the kiss evolves and when it’s open mouths and tongues and soft needy moans, there may be a problem putting it down to a misunderstanding afterwards. Kame is holding Jin close and Jin’s hands slip into Kame’s hair, their bodies are uncomfortably twisted, but who cares about a little prickling pain in the side when there’s a kiss going on?
Kame pulls away to catch a breath, growling a throaty, “This is such a bad idea,” when as soon as Jin chases his lips and catches Kame in another kiss, Kame can’t remember what exactly about any of this could be a bad idea at all.
Eventually Jin ends up straddling Kame’s lap, Kame’s hands holding him firmly in place.
By the time they finally pull away for good, Kame’s heart is pounding wild in his chest and his sweatpants help nothing to hide the effect Jin’s kisses have on him. From the bulge pressed against him every time Jin rocks back and forth, however, Jin’s jeans aren’t that much helpful either.
Jin keeps his eyes closed. His forehead is resting against Kame’s.
When he speaks, his breath caresses Kame’s face. “Shit.”
Kame lets out a breathy chuckle. “That’s the general consensus for things like this, yes.” He’s a little light-headed right now. From a kiss. Sure, it’s been one hell of a breathtaking kiss, pretty high on the scale of first kisses, but just a kiss nonetheless.
To Kame’s disappointment, Jin becomes self-conscious and crawls off of Kame’s lap then, resuming his sitting position on the floor. He leaves a bit of a space between them. He keeps his eyes lowered. In no time, Kame misses looking into them.
Jin’s fingers pick on a nonexistent speck on the knee of his jeans. “I’m sorry.”
Kame blinks.
“If you want to vote me out tomorrow-”
Wait. What?
“I’m not voting you out,” Kame says quickly. His mind goes from a lust-filled mush to alert and cautious in 0.1s, leaving him hazy and reeling from the fast change. Kind of like when you stand up too fast and your body needs to remember how to balance in the new position after having fallen asleep in the previous one.
“Are you sure?” Jin dares looking up, his already red and swollen bottom lip being masacred by his worrying teeth.
Kame wants to kiss him again.
Jin straightens up, encouraged by the lack of freaking out on Kame’s side. “Because we just agreed that Ryo making out with Meisa could be really bad for… like, everyone. And now this-” he gestures between himself and Kame, “I mean, I’d understand if you wanted to get rid of me now. It’s a part of why I didn’t kiss you earlier-”
Shit. Did Jin just say they could’ve kissed earlier? A real kiss… not just fantasies in Kame’s head that he never allowed to soar too close to the surface of consciousness?
Kame’s apparently quiet for too long, because Jin’s brows furrow.
“Is it… is it weird? Are you even…?”
And that finally sends Kame directly into a fit of laughter, because damn, he’s been this close to being a total wreck tonight; exhaustion and the ever present tension that seems to have infected the air and soaked into the walls of this whole place, it all has been slowly sinking its sharp teeth into him, but now he can’t stop laughing. He leans forward and hides his burning face in Jin’s shoulder.
“Kame?”
Kame nearly chokes. “I very much am,” he assures Jin when the worst of his fit subsides.
“Oh.” Relief visibly washes over Jin.
Kame smiles. “I’m definitely not voting you out tomorrow.”
When they kiss again, Kame pushes away the nagging voice that tries to remind him of all the reasons why this whole thing is still a bad idea.
-
Showdown day shouldn’t be the most stressful day of the week. There’s not much to do activity wise, no prep, no cooking, and no public outings. No need to stay in character of the persona everyone created for the show, because except of a couple of minutes alone in a booth with a camera and the evening filming, there’s no one imposing on anyone’s privacy. For the last two weeks, the Kitchen Wars participants spent the Showdown day launging around the hotel, either separately in their rooms or meeting in small groups in the common room or outside on the terrace.
It’s funny how they can actually get along or tolerate one another to a certain degree, when it’s not an act for the cameras.
However, despite the seemingly relaxing atmosphere, Showdown day is stressful. At least for those like Kame who try to think a little farther than just the next cooking task that needs to be done without failing.
It’s the time when everyone has to finalize their decision for the evening voting. Some, like Ryo or Yuya, already made their picks, and they also shared them loud and clear with the rest of the group, as well as the cameras, because the cameras love it when people like Ryo or Yuya become loud. Being loud is only one step from throwing things, and the cameras love that more than anything.
-
“I’m sending you home tomorrow, do you hear me? Better start packing your Barbie pink suitcase!”
“Hah! That is exactly the kind of attitude that will send you home, Nishikido.”
“You wish! Watch me win this shit when you’re back home baking cream puffs.”
-
When the evening comes, they gather in the kitchen once again, standing lined up in front of the first row of cooking stations. They have their Kitchen Wars chef uniforms on. One of them will be left hanging on the rack by the exit before the day comes to its end.
The room is quiet.
There’s a bunch of crew people operating the filming equipment, and every once in a while they talk to each other in hushed voices.
Kame looks to the left.
He sees seven people-eight if he includes himself-who can do amazing things in the kitchen. Eight different personalities. If it all was only about cooking skills, he wouldn’t dare guessing the one with the biggest chance to win. Each of them is great at their job. When bias enters the picture, however, Yamapi’s got the most experience and can play both as a team player and on his own, and he doesn’t make himself look better or more interesting by belittling others. Ryo has a terrifying drive to go after what he wants. And then there’s Jin. It’s almost ridiculous how much Kame wants Jin to win and make his cooking dreams come true. All of that after a night of kissing secretly in the kitchen.
Tonight Jin is standing between Nakamaru and Maki, while Kame has Maki on his left and Ryo on his right.
Considering the name Kame is about to drop in a few moments, his position couldn’t be worse.
If he tried to switch places with someone now, though, his behavior would become suspicious.
The filming finally starts.
They are all a bit shifty as they wait for Takizawa’s arrival. Kame has heard the guy’s voice from behind the wall five minutes ago, so now the waiting is really just for the effect, and likely, to fuel their nervousness. It works.
Kame is nervous.
Logically, he doesn’t think he has a reason to be. He hasn’t gotten into an open conflict with anyone besides the incident with Ryo last night, but even that was more Meisa’s fight, not Kame’s. He just played his role. He’s been also doing quite well in team work this week. He didn’t mess up. In fact, the only thing that could’ve attracted negative view of him was Takizawa’s mockery of Kame’s baseball cap, but people aren’t kicked off of this show for stuff like that, right? Kame doesn’t think so. Meisa is still here. Barefoot, but doing fine. So really, unless someone gives him a completely random kick in the ass, he should be relatively safe tonight. The problem is, logic really doesn’t work well on this show. The show feeds off emotions and drama and people kind of being the worst versions of themselves, so while logically Kame should be safe, the truth is that anyone could drop his name today. Even Yuya or Ryo, even though the two of them made it very much clear as to where their decision has been to.
That would be one vote for Ryo and one for Yuya.
Kame risks a quick glance at Jin. To his susprise, his eyes meet Jin’s concentrated stare and a hard to read expression.
Tilting his head a little, Kame tries to silently communicate a question about the direction of Jin’s thoughts and a concern about what is going on.
A panicked voice at the back of his mind offers an explanation Kame refuses right away. Last night, it wasn’t an act on Jin’s side. It wasn’t just to distract Kame.
Jin isn’t like that.
Jin won’t try to send him home. Jin doesn’t play this kind of mind games.
Or for now, Kame wants to believe that Jin doesn’t.
Then the door opens and Takizawa enters.
-
“I was nervous. I’m usually fine, but today… not so much. The incident with Maki earlier this week could give some people the impression that I shouldn’t be here…”
- Yamapi
-
“It’s like the atmosphere in the room changes when he walks in, you know? I never thought about it before, until Kitchen Wars. Some people have this… aura, I suppose… around them, and you feel their presence deep in your bones. I can see it with chef Takizawa. And some of the other participants, too. They have-aura. Yeah, that’s how I’d describe it.”
- Maki
-
“I just really wanted the evening to be over. At one point I thought, damn, I don’t care if I’m the one leaving, I just want it to be over.”
- Kame
-
Takizawa stops in front of them, overlooking the line they’ve formed, and it can’t be more than two, three seconds to slide his eyes from one end to the other, but it feels like he actually lingers on each one of them for hours, seeing right through them and reading their minds. At least Kame’s mind is, for once, blissfully empty. He’s worried himself into numbness.
If he’s the one to leave tonight, so be it.
He’d be leaving this place knowing he’s done his best.
And then would likely spend a week self-analyzing every possible mistake that could’ve added up to his failure.
Leaving the show only three weeks in is not a proof of having done his best. In fact, it’s nowhere near that.
Kame’s shoulders are tense. He rolls them back.
For someone who says he doesn’t really care about being on this show, he suddenly isn’t ready to leave just yet.
“It’s been a busy, interesting week,” Takizawa starts.
Nakamaru nods.
“Who thinks they did well this week and thus should get a free pass through the Showdown?”
Ryo’s hand is up immediately.
Everyone else, Kame included, hesitates. It could be a trick question. Correction, it most probably is a trick question. Even a conversational inquiry about the weather could turn into one if the one asking is Takizawa and there’s a camera nearby.
Kame catches the moment when Jin cautiously raises his hand.
Meisa, Yuya, Maki. One hand after another goes up. Yamapi’s is the last one.
Takizawa doesn’t miss that. “You’re not sure.”
“I am sure about my cooking, sir,” Yamapi says.
“But?”
“The rest of it, not quite so. There’ve been a few moments this week that I’m not so proud of. I could’ve handled them better.”
He doesn’t look left or right, no indication of what in particular he’s referring to, but next to Kame, Maki quietly sighs and staggers, overwhelmed, like she’s taking Yamapi’s words personally. Considering the collision the two of them had, maybe she does so rightfully.
Takizawa nods thoughtfully. “Your cooking received a compliment this week, so you could be right.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nakamaru.” Takizawa has moved on with his interrogation before Yamapi’s mumbled words are finished. “Do you still want to be here?”
“Sir?” Now, that, is definitely a trick question. “Yes, sir, I’d like to stay and continue with this challenge.”
Nakamaru is probably the calmest person Kame has ever met. He’s also not faking it. The calm around him is genuine. He doesn’t lose his cool even when Jin teases him, or when he’s forced to work with Yuya who doesn’t understand the concept of being quiet.
“Do you think the others will let you?” Takizawa asks.
Nakamaru doesn’t even blink before saying, “I hope so.”
“Aright. Now, Kamenashi.”
Kame perks up. “Yes.”
“What if there was no one to leave tonight and the eight of you were to continue as you are now for another week?”
“Then I’d say it would be a very long week.”
The answer earns him a few chuckles, because despite their differences, they have some things in common, too. They’re tired. Nervous. They’re ambitious and want to be here also next week. They want this to be over, because then seven of them will at least know they won’t be leaving this place. The small, simple hotel rooms upstairs have become their temporary homes; impersonal and often claustrophobic, yet a welcome reminder of the open posibilities of bright future.
Takizawa moves on again. “Meisa, we’ve seen some tension between you and Ryo again this week.”
“He’s stepped over the line. Again.” Meisa nods resolutely without a glance in Ryo’s direction. “I know my job and I’m good at it, and it wasn’t his place to lecture me.”
“I was just making a point.” Ryo shrugs.
“You were being an asshole.”
Ryo snorts.
-
“Earlier this week we’ve lost the team game because she clearly wasn’t ‘good at her job’, and now she tries to lecture me about my place? Fuck it.”
- Ryo
-
“So, Meisa,” Takizawa steps in before the jar could escalate into a full-grown argument, “Is Ryo your choice tonight for Showdown?”
Kame’s heartbeat quickens.
Here they go.
No more polite filler questions.
Meisa shakes head. “No sir. My choice is Maki.”
Next to Kame, Maki visibly flinches. Kame almost does too. He can’t recall a single incident between the two remaining girls that might explain what has just happened.
Meisa seems confident about her decision though.
It’s even a bigger surprise when Takizawa asks Nakamaru, and the answer is the same. Maki.
-
“Look, I’m doing her a favor, right? If not today, she’d go next week.”
- Meisa
-
“I like to know what to expect from people. I don’t mind if someone is playing hard, as long as they’re consistent about it. With Maki… I mean, just this week, one moment she’s all nice and friendly and the next moment there was this big drama around her that had half the kitchen in twist.”
- Nakamaru
-
Ryo gets three votes; one from Jin, one from Yuya, and when it’s Kame’s turn, he adds the third one, ignoring the explosion of curses next to him.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ryo growls. “What is this? Some fucking conspiracy?”
Yuya leans forward, disrupting the line, only to get a better view of a raging Ryo. “Whatever you call it, it’s gonna send you right out of the door.”
“Shut up, you little-”
“Yamapi, who’s your choice?” Takizawa interrupts Ryo’s shouting.
“It’s Maki, sir.”
Takizawa turns to the girl in question. She’s backed against the counter and is blinking furiously to hold back tears. “That’s another point for you, Maki. In total it’s three for you and three for Ryo. What if I told you I’d sent home either you or him, depending on your vote?”
She takes a shaky breath. “I’d still like to stick to my original pick and nominate Meisa.” It’s cold and definite, and she could’ve pointed a finger at Ryo and her life would’ve been much easier in the following five minutes or so, but she didn’t. Kame has to respect that. He can’t imagine himself doing the same.
He may have his doubts about the reason for being here, or about what he expects to get out of his participation-a job in a luxurious restaurant with high class clientele sounds nice, but the truth is that his resume and experience could probably score him one anyway, no matter what his mom thinks-so he doesn’t really need to be here. Not the way Jin does.
Kame doesn’t need to prove anyone his cooking skills are top notch. Not like Yuya.
He could leave tonight and live a good life.
And yet, Kame can’t imagine risking the way Maki just did.
-
“All along I was counting the votes in my head, so I knew it was a pat even before Takizawa rounded it up. And when he asked, I knew I could have pointed at Ryo, but I wanted to make a statement. I don’t buy that bullshit Meisa sells people, and if it means I have to leave this place, I’ll do it with my head held high.”
- Maki
-
“Ryo, Maki, step forward, please.”
They do; Ryo takes two long, angry steps, while Maki shuffles her feet on the floor, head lowered.
She seems to be slowly coming to terms with tonight being her last moments on Kitchen Wars. Ryo, on the other hand, might probably fight anyone who would as much as point at the exit door and ask him to leave.
With the two of them leaving the line, Kame is left standing kind of separated from everyone else.
Like he’s been just singled out.
It’s not a good feeling.
An alarm bell does a dull sound of a warning in his head. He wants to look at Takizawa to perhaps read and understand if this is some kind of a tactic leading to Takizawa finally making use of his veto and choosing Kame to get out of here, but the fact is, Kame can’t bring himself to move his head. He wants to stay oblivious for a little longer.
“So, you two,” Takizawa speaks to Maki and Ryo, “How does it feel like to know that your colleagues don’t want you around anymore? That they think you’re not good enough to win?”
“That’s a fucking bullshit,” Ryo shoots right away. He actually looks really scary when he gets angry. “They’re not trying to get rid of me because I’m not good enough-they want me gone because I’m better than all of them together.”
-
“I’m going to be the last man standing. Mark my fucking words.”
- Ryo
-
“If I have to leave tonight, I’ll be going out of the door, knowing I’ve done my best. My mom and my brother don’t have to be ashamed of me.”
- Maki
-
“It’s their decision, and if they don’t see me as someone who deserves to be here, I must respect it as such,” Maki says quietly. It’s hard to believe the same voice is capable of getting loud and angry, like it happaned earlier this week. “However, I’m a good chef and I know I still have things and skills to show on this show.”
Takizawa nods.
“Very well.”
A moment of silence that follows is strangely worse than the angriest of Ryo’s tantrums, or Yamapi singing around a stove. It’s deafening.
Takizawa once again looks at each one of them, not just Maki or Ryo. It’s hard to guess if it’s a good or bad thing. They learnt early on that Takizawa’s eyes can be deceiving. When he threw out Kusano, he was actually looking at Nakamaru all along. It was so intense that when Takizawa opened his mouth to say the name, Nakamaru stepped forward before a single sound came out. It caused a little, temporary comical relief just before the final decision was made clear.
“Yuya.”
The room is suddenly so quiet that it feels like no one is breathing.
“Sir?” Yuya croaks, his voice jumping up at the end as a wave of shock rolls over him.
“I’m sending you home. Take off your uniform and leave it at the door on your way out.”
It’s obvious from the way his bottom lip trembles that Yuya has things to say, questions to ask, perhaps defend himself, demand an explanation. The decision has just hit him like a lightning from a clear sky on a beautiful summer day-it kind of hit all of them, because when Kame glances at the others, he can see relief mixed with the same shock that’s settled in Yuya’s face.
It doesn’t matter how people voted, or that Ryo and Maki have been pulled out of the line to hear the verdict.
Takizawa is the one with the final word, and he’s pointed his finger at Yuya.
Yuya starts unbuttoning his white chef uniform as he walks past Ryo, past Takizawa, and he’s taking it off by the time he reaches the door seding him back to whatever life he lived before Kitchen Wars.
“Who thinks he didn’t deserve it?” Takizawa asks as soon as the door closes behind Yuya’s back.
Kame watches Ryo.
Ryo who wanted Yuya gone tonight got his wish fulfilled. It’s like a bad joke.
While still standing in the front line, Maki cautiously raises her hand. “With all respect, I think there are others who should’ve walked through that door tonight.”
“Are you one of them?” Takizawa asks harshly. “You can catch up with him and switch places if you want to.” He waves towards the door, and it really does look like an invitation for Maki to do so. It’s hard to say how serious Takizawa is at the moment.
Maki, rebelious and determined just seconds ago, drops her shoulders and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbles.
Right. Because at the end of the day, those who make it through the Showdown victoriously wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for the person who wasn’t so lucky.
( part 3)