ARIFURETA: Cooking to be the Strongest?

The air inside the dojo carried the scent of worn wood and sweat—an atmosphere alive with focused energy. Shin walked beside Shizuku, with Kouki trailing just half a step ahead as they toured the Yaegashi dojo.

A few trainees paused their drills to bow politely."Shizuku-sama. Kouki-sama."

Shizuku returned the greeting with a polite nod. Even Shin dipped his head in quiet acknowledgment.

After a brief walk around the main hall and adjacent rooms, they passed the weapons rack lined with neatly arranged bokken. Shin's steps slowed. Something… tugged at his senses. A quiet pressure, subtle yet distinct.

He stopped and turned toward the rack.

"Yaegashi-san," Shin asked softly, "can I hold one?"

"Huh? Um, sure—but be careful," Shizuku replied, puzzled.

Shin reached for one of the bokken and grasped its hilt. The wood felt familiar—worn, yet balanced. Without hesitation, he stepped back and gave it a casual swing with one hand.

Fwhip.A clean sound sliced through the still dojo air.

Shin paused.

Repositioning his grip with both hands, he took a second swing.This one was smoother. More controlled. The sound rang out even clearer.

Shizuku's eyes widened slightly. There was no form, no stance—but the movement had a certain clarity."…That was surprisingly good," she murmured to herself.

Kouki crossed his arms, unimpressed."It's just a clean swing. I does not look different from what we always do."

Footsteps echoed from behind them.

"Hmm… not bad for your first try, kid."

It was Old man Shuu—hands folded behind his back, beard hiding a pleased grin as he approached with a measured pace.

His eyes scanned Shin and the bokken in his hand."The first swing was decent. But the second—that one had control. You've got good hands, boy."

Shin looked down at the sword, then back at the old man."I don't know."

Old man Shuu chuckled."Honest, huh? I like that. How about a little spar to see what that instinct of yours can really do?"

Shizuku's brows shot up."Wait, Ojii-chan—he's never even trained! Isn't that a little hasty?"

But Shin glanced at Kouki, then back at Shuu. His voice was quiet, steady."It's okay. I want to try."

Kouki smirked, stretching his arms."Fine by me."

Shizuku frowned but didn't object. She turned to walk toward the center ring with Kouki.

Before Shin could follow, Old man Shuu placed a hand on his shoulder."Hold up. You can't spar in casual clothes—head to the changing room and get dressed properly."

He called over one of the instructors, a senior disciple."Help the boy get changed. Give him one of the practice uniforms from the rack."

"Understood, Shuuzou-sama."

Shin followed the instructor without complaint. Within minutes, he returned—now wearing a clean navy keikogi and hakama.

But something had changed.

For the first time in a while, Shin had tied back his shoulder-length white hair into a simple ponytail, leaving his face fully visible. His deep crimson eyes—clear, reflective, and unwavering—caught the light of the dojo like gemstones.

The instructor walking beside him nearly dropped the folded towel in his hands."Wait… who—? Kid, are you…?"

"Takagi Shin," came the quiet reply.

The instructor stared, stunned. The transformation was undeniable. The boy now walking beside him didn't carry the air of a typical student or visitor. His features were sharp, almost androgynous, his expression neutral—aloof. His posture upright. Composed. He looked like he'd stepped out of a story.

They returned to the dojo floor. Old man Shuu turned at the sound of footsteps.

"You took your time—where's the—" His words cut off.

Shin stood before him.

"...Oh." A long beat. Then a soft laugh. "Well now."

The instructor raised his hand and pointed."Shuuzou-sama. This is him. Same kid."

Old man Shuu blinked slowly, then gave a quiet, wheezing chuckle."Hah… so the cold little chef had this look hiding underneath."

He rubbed his chin with a gleam in his eye, thoroughly impressed.Shin stood there silently, his face blank—but paired with the keikogi and that ponytail, there was a sharpened edge to his presence. Still. Poised. Unshakable.

A blade in its sheath.

"He's rough," Old man Shuu muttered under his breath, "but the mold is rare. I may have hooked something special." He grinned again. "Even if he's not officially ours yet."

Across the dojo, whispers began to stir.

"Who's that?""Is that a guest?""Those eyes… they look unreal."

Shin ignored the murmurs and walked forward, his bokken in hand. He approached Shizuku and Kouki without a word, each step quiet but steady—like a wave approaching shore.

____________________

The wooden floors of the Yaegashi Dojo echoed as Shin, Old Man Shuu, and the quietly trailing instructor approached the sparring area. At the center, Koichi stood with arms folded, observing, while Shizuku and Kouki waited beside him.

A quiet stir spread across the dojo.

Trainees paused mid-kata. Wooden swords were lowered. Murmurs broke the usual rhythm of disciplined silence.

"Isn't that the kid Shuuzou-sama brought?""Wait… he's going to spar with Kouki?""Already? That's kind of sudden.""Maybe it's one of those talents Shuuzou-sama talked about…"

As Shin stepped into the ring's edge, flanked by Old man Shuu and the instructor, Shizuku and Kouki both blinked in confusion—scanning past him as if looking for someone else.

"Where's Shin?" Kouki asked.

"Huh?" Shizuku tilted her head, puzzled. "Did he not change yet?"

Old Man Shuu chuckled, folding his arms behind his back."You're both looking at him."

He nodded toward the boy standing calmly at his side.

The two turned—then froze.

The pale hakama and keikogi suited Shin perfectly. His upright posture, neutral expression, and tied-back hair gave him a quiet elegance that clashed completely with the image they knew.

Shizuku took a half-step forward, eyes wide."That's… Shin?"

Kouki blinked rapidly, jaw slightly open."No way. That can't be—"

Shin tilted his head, expression as blank as ever. Then, almost as if to prove his identity, he reached behind his head and untied the ponytail. His white hair fell loosely back into its usual disheveled form, strands covering his eyes again.

"Oh—it really is Shin!" Shizuku gasped.

"That's crazy! How'd a hairstyle change make you look like a totally different person?!" Kouki exclaimed, still in disbelief.

Shin shrugged slightly and began tying his hair back into the same neat ponytail.

Old Man Shuu gave a satisfied hum."A sword may not shine until it's drawn."

As the murmurs faded, Koichi stepped forward to oversee the match, his arms crossed but expression calm.

"Both of you—center," he said, and the boys obeyed.

Kouki adjusted his stance eagerly, bokken in hand. Shin, silent and unreadable, mirrored the motion with an almost unnatural stillness.

The ring was cleared. Trainees gathered at the edges, forming a wide circle around the two boys.

With the old man observing from the side, arms behind his back and eyes sharp, the air grew heavier. Not tense—just focused.

The first sparring match of the day was about to begin.

_______________________________________________________ 

Koichi stepped between the two boys at the center of the ring. His gaze swept across each one—first Kouki, who stood tall with eager confidence, then Shin, still and unreadable with his bokken loosely gripped at his side.

"This is a friendly spar," Koichi said clearly, his voice commanding yet calm. "No strikes to the head or vitals. Begin when I give the signal."

He raised his hand.A beat of silence.Then—

"Begin!"

Kouki immediately shifted into a proper stance, eyes focused. He'd sparred countless times, won plenty, and even trained under Shizuku's father. The boy in front of him, despite his strange aura, had no formal training—just an amateur's curiosity.

"This'll be over quick," Kouki thought, circling lightly.

Shin didn't move. His posture was neutral, almost loose. Bokken held down, not up. No stance. No guard. Nothing.

To Kouki's eyes, he looked like a scarecrow.Too open. Too easy.

With that, Kouki lunged—A clean, practiced strike, aiming for Shin's shoulder.

But then—

A single step.

Shin moved.

Not fast.But clean.

His bokken lifted with fluid precision. Not flashy. Not wild. Just… efficient.

Clack—!

Kouki's bokken flew from his hands.

"Wha—?!"

Before the sound could register fully, Shin's bokken was already at Kouki's side. A flick of the wrist—a second swipe. Smooth, horizontal, and controlled—like filleting a fish in one graceful motion.

The tip of the wooden blade stopped just shy of Kouki's ribs.

Frozen.

Kouki stood stunned, arms hanging uselessly at his side.

Gasps echoed from the gathered trainees.

Koichi narrowed his eyes slightly, arms still crossed."Disarm and counter in two moves. Controlled execution… not bad at all."

Old man Shuu chuckled behind him, beard twitching with amusement."Hoh… That's what I'm talking about. You felt the angle instead of thinking it. That's the difference."

Shin, still calm, slowly lowered his weapon and stepped back.

"You okay?" he asked Kouki flatly, not mocking—just checking.

Kouki blinked. "Y-yeah…" He retrieved his bokken, still in disbelief.

The dojo buzzed with quiet awe. No one had expected the silent boy from the orphanage to land the first clear win.

_______________________

From the sidelines, Shizuku stood stunned, her eyes never leaving Shin.

Kouki gritted his teeth, still stunned by his swift loss."One more—" he began, stepping forward, bokken in hand.

But a calm voice interrupted him.

"Kouki, I'll go next."

Shizuku stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Shin. Her voice was quiet—but resolute.

Koichi raised an eyebrow. "Shizuku?"

Old man Shuu chuckled from the side, stroking his beard."Oooh? My granddaughter's serious now?"

Shizuku didn't respond. Her gaze remained on Shin, focused and assessing.

Shin blinked, tilting his head slightly."Me?"

"Yes," she replied, her lips forming a faint smile. "You're interesting, Shin-kun."

A beat passed. Then Shin nodded."Okay."

Kouki opened his mouth, about to protest—but something in Shizuku's expression stopped him.That look—curious, intrigued, even admiring—was unfamiliar. And it wasn't directed at him.

A strange twinge twisted in his chest.He frowned, his eyes narrowing at Shin.

Koichi stepped forward, lifting his hand."Match two—Yaegashi Shizuku versus Takagi Shin. Prepare."

The sparring circle fell into a hushed tension. Nearby trainees paused, watching with bated breath.

This time, Shin stepped into the ring with measured composure.He adjusted his footing, mimicking the stances he'd seen from both Kouki and Shizuku—feet grounded, hands steady on the bokken.

His crimson eyes, though still calm, carried a flicker of focused intent.

Across from him, Shizuku mirrored his stance. Her eyes scanned him sharply—like a reader poring over a difficult text.

Koichi gave the signal."Begin!"

Shizuku moved first.

A clean lunge toward Shin's left shoulder—sharp and precise. Not as fast as Kouki's strike, but better controlled.

Shin caught it at the edge of his vision. His instincts surged.

He twisted his wrist, deflecting the blow—and countered immediately with a smooth disarm attempt.

But Shizuku sensed it. She pivoted, barely avoiding the strike.

A murmur rippled through the onlookers.

Koichi smiled faintly, crossing his arms in quiet approval.Old man Shuu stroked his beard, clearly impressed.

Kouki, watching in disbelief, clenched his fists tighter.

The two squared off again.

Shizuku's gaze sharpened. She was reading him.Shin didn't strategize. He didn't anticipate. He reacted.Like an animal with honed instinct—fast, fluid, unpredictable.

But instinct, she realized, had limits.

"That kid's instinct is sharp," Old man Shuu murmured, stroking his beard.He paused for a moment, then added with a thoughtful frown:"But he leans on it too much. That'll become a weakness if he doesn't learn to refine it."

This time, Shin moved first.

Two swift strikes—one to disarm, one to sweep.

Shizuku blocked the first with a crisp parry and sidestepped the second, countering with a precise upward arc toward Shin's flank.

Shin twisted. His bokken came up just in time.

Clack!

He blocked it.

But it was a feint.

Thwack.

Shizuku's bokken tapped cleanly against his left shoulder.

A beat of silence followed.

Koichi raised his hand."Point—Shizuku. Match over."

The dojo erupted in quiet murmurs. Some gasped. Others whispered in awe.

Shin blinked, slowly registering the result. His stance eased, bokken lowered.

Shizuku stepped back and bowed politely."You're strong, Takagi-kun. That was fun."

Shin returned the bow, voice soft."…You too Yaegashi-san."

He paused, gently touching his shoulder."That last strike… it tricked me."

Old man Shuu grinned proudly, arms folded."Hoh… not bad at all. That's what I call a proper match between young talents."

Koichi nodded, clearly pleased—but his eyes flicked toward Kouki, who looked away, jaw tight.

The spar was over.

But something more had shifted—between Shin, Shizuku, and Kouki—a silent, growing thread of rivalry, curiosity, and something deeper still.