This time, it was Yuto's turn to sit and wait.
Being on the receiving end felt a bit strange.
It wasn't that he hadn't eaten at other places since coming to this world, but sitting specifically to taste and judge someone else's cooking hadn't happened yet.
In his previous life, such scenes were actually quite common. He and his fellow apprentices, or the chefs sharing the hotel kitchen, would often critique each other's dishes like this.
This mutual critique was highly effective in pushing each other to grow.
Moreover, sometimes, just to prank each other, they'd deliberately add strange ingredients to the dishes they prepped for one another.
For example, Yuto once secretly folded a massive amount of wasabi into someone's dish.
The other guy almost wanted to kill him after taking a bite.
Sitting here now and reminiscing about those chaotic, wonderful memories, Yuto couldn't help but feel a bit emotional.
What was gone was gone forever.
But, compared to his previous life, Yuto actually preferred the present. At least now, as his own boss, he could still see the sunlight.
He propped his head on one hand and looked through the doorway at the girl bustling about in his kitchen.
She wore one of his spare white aprons, with a clean cloth wrapped neatly around her head to prevent any stray hairs from falling into the food.
Her hair was tied back by the apron's strings, pressed firmly against her back.
Yuto had to admit one thing.
From a purely visual perspective, having a cute girl bustling around the kitchen was indeed much more eye-catching.
This was strictly from his male point of view, of course. As for what his monster customers would think, he had no idea.
But... for a chef, flavor is what truly matters!
Just by sitting at the counter, he could spot numerous technical flaws in the girl's movements. Her knife work was hesitant, and her heat control was erratic.
However, compared to the amateur cooking competition he'd watched in Shibuya last time, she could easily be considered one of the best among them.
If Yuto were to evaluate Asuna honestly at this moment, he'd say she was an ordinary person with relatively good foundational skills.
She still fell a bit short of being a professional chef.
In the kitchen, Asuna treated the ingredients before her with the utmost seriousness.
The dish she was making was a classic omurice.
The most ordinary, nostalgic kind.
She knew her skills couldn't compare to Yuto's, but she poured her heart and soul into this dish. Cooking was the only thing she felt she could truly call her own right now.
Her attitude toward the stove was far more serious and desperate than when she learned her mandatory high-society etiquette lessons.
From the way a person carries themselves in a kitchen, you can tell whether they truly love cooking or not.
Watching Asuna from behind, Yuto's face softened with genuine approval and recognition.
Even though the girl made small mistakes here and there, her earnest, focused demeanor reminded him of something very familiar.
Back when he first abandoned traditional academics to learn cooking, he'd been exactly like that.
Despite making constant mistakes and burning his fingers, his love for the craft never wavered.
Looking at Asuna now, distant memories surfaced in his eyes.
He seemed to see his own younger, thinner self.
That boy who struggled, sweat, and found pure joy standing by a hot stove.
Finally, Asuna's dish was complete.
She carried the bright yellow omurice out to the counter with a mix of fragile pride and nervous confidence.
"Omurice. Please enjoy!"
The girl handed Yuto a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. Yuto looked up with a warm smile and thanked her.
He noticed the fine beads of sweat dotting the girl's fair forehead and the slight, healthy flush on her cheeks from the heat of the stove.
But mostly, he noticed the intense look of anticipation and focus in her amber eyes.
It reminded him so much of himself back then.
He chuckled softly in his heart, let out a quiet sigh, and picked up the spoon.
The mound of ketchup-fried rice was covered with a very thin, delicate layer of egg crepe.
It was cooked well enough that it could be easily cut open even with the rounded edge of the spoon, requiring almost no force.
Yuto held the spoon and pressed down gently. The egg layer cracked open, releasing a puff of savory steam. He scooped a spoonful of the rice mixed with egg and brought it to his mouth.
The exact second the spoon passed his lips, Asuna's eyes filled with raw tension.
"How is it? Does it taste good? Is there anything that needs improvement?!" The girl's words rushed out in a nervous, hurried blur, firing off three questions in a row.
Yuto chewed the rice thoughtfully and nodded gently.
This simple reaction instantly eased a massive amount of the tension gripping Asuna's shoulders.
After he swallowed, Yuto spoke with a light, encouraging laugh. "The taste is very good. You must have practiced this recipe very hard, right?"
Yuto wasn't telling the absolute truth. In fact, if judged by his strict standards as a professional chef, this omurice would be considered a failing grade.
The rice was slightly mushy, and the egg was overcooked.
But from an ordinary person's perspective, it was a solid, comforting meal.
There was no need to be overly critical. It would be unfair—and honestly cruel—to judge an ordinary girl who simply loves cooking by the harsh metrics of a professional kitchen.
Hearing his praise, Asuna's expression instantly lit up with overwhelming delight.
It was as if she'd just received some crucial, life-saving affirmation.
"That's great! This is the first time I've ever received an evaluation from an actual professional chef!" Asuna's tone trembled with excitement, and the edges of her eyes even turned slightly red.
Yuto looked at her, feeling a surge of complex emotions in his chest, like a wind gathering invisibly under the night sky—subtle and elusive.
"Have you really never shown your cooking to anyone else before?" Yuto asked gently.
Asuna's bright eyes dimmed slightly, the joy fading into a quiet, resigned calm.
She smiled lightly and looked down at her hands.
"My parents don't like me studying cooking. They think it's a distraction. So, I've only ever been doing it in secret."
The girl wore a helpless, trapped smile on her face.
Yuto took a light breath and exhaled slowly.
"But do you like doing it yourself?" he asked softly.
The girl looked up at him.
Her amber eyes sparkled with an incredibly bright light, like glazed glass catching the sun.
"I do."
Her soft, unwavering answer made Yuto smile.
"This dish actually has a little room for improvement. Would you like to learn how to fix it?" Yuto asked, looking at her gently.
The girl's eyes lit up with sudden, explosive joy.
"Yes!"
Her excited, loud exclamation even startled herself. Seeing her amusing, flustered reaction, Yuto shook his head gently with a fond smile.
"Come on. I'll show you how to do it once."
He stood up, walked into the kitchen, and tied on a fresh apron.
Asuna quickly scrambled off her stool and stood obediently by his side.
In the kitchen, the boy earnestly explained the key points of heat control and folding the egg for a perfect omurice.
The girl listened with rapt attention, nodding along to every instruction.
The atmosphere in the small kitchen was somewhat complex, yet tinged with a beautiful, shared simplicity.
...
"Mmm!"
Asuna took a serious bite of the new omurice she had just cooked under Yuto's guidance.
The moment it entered her mouth, her expression changed dramatically. Her face filled with pure delight.
She turned to look at Yuto, who was smiling at her from the side, her eyes filled with unmistakable gratitude.
"It really tastes so much better now, Kamisaka-kun! Thank you so much for your guidance!"
Asuna took two steps back and bowed deeply to him.
"That's way too formal, Asuna. There's no need for that. I just gave you a few casual pointers," Yuto said, feeling somewhat helpless.
He'd merely pointed out a few minor mistakes she made regarding pan temperature and timing. It really didn't warrant such a formal, rigid gesture of respect.
"Still, I'm truly grateful no matter what." Asuna straightened up, the gratitude and joy still lingering heavily in her eyes.
Yuto smiled softly, picked up his own spoon, and took a bite of her second attempt.
This time, the texture of the egg was noticeably smoother, and the rice wasn't soggy.
Although the concept of "flavor" sounds elusive, it's something deeply tied to technique. Even a small change in the cooking process can drastically alter the final taste.
Just by correcting a few minor mistakes, she'd improved significantly.
This made Yuto feel a bit reflective. Perhaps the girl truly did have a natural talent for the culinary arts.
"Keep working hard. Don't let this small bit of progress make you complacent," Yuto encouraged her, slipping easily into a mentor's tone.
Asuna nodded cheerfully. But then, her bright mood shifted, turning somewhat somber.
A hint of confusion appeared in Yuto's eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Asuna sighed dejectedly, her lips curling weakly. "I just suddenly realized... even if I learn to cook perfectly, it seems like I'll never really have the chance to make food for others to enjoy."
Her eyes held a heavy touch of helplessness.
After voicing her fear, she quickly suppressed the melancholic emotion and forced a bright smile back onto her face.
Hearing her quiet confession, Yuto felt a bit helpless.
He didn't know the exact details of her strict family situation, and even if he did, he definitely had no right to interfere.
After all, they'd only really become friends today. It would be vastly overstepping his bounds to pry into her family politics.
However, as a fellow chef and a new friend, he could still try to fulfill her wish in his own way. He'd been through the grind himself.
He deeply understood the unique, crushing pain of cooking diligently for hours with no one there to eat it.
It was like a writer pouring their soul into a novel only for it to be treated as scrap paper, or a singer belting their heart out to an empty room.
"Will you come back again tonight, Asuna?" Yuto asked, lightly tapping his fingers on the wooden cutting board with a thoughtful expression.
While he was guiding her earlier, she had insisted he drop the formalities and just call her Asuna.
It was her way of expressing genuine gratitude and breaking down the formal barriers between them.