My CO Stash #8 - Fate Stay Cooking by Parcasious (Fate/staynightXFoodWars)

-A fun CO fic with Shirou having a non-self sacrificing idea about saving people and it's believable~ Neat author/

Synopsis: When an unlikely event arises in London, Shirou must now deal with the consequences of familial ties. May turn to M later.

Rated: T

Words: 76K

Posted on: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11383566/1/Fate-Stay-Cooking (Parcasious)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics/originals mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1-3 (exceptional)

"Yukihira, Yukihira, Yukihira," Shirou muttered as he scratched at the back of his head. "Its got to be here somewhere."

Shirou sighed. Its been a week since his fateful encounter with Jōichirō Yukihira in London.

The man was an odd one really, his posture slumped and laid back even as he had accidentally knocked Shirou over in London's market square. Of course Shirou didn't care less about the little incident, but it was when Jōichirō Yukihira's eyes widened and his posture suddenly went rigid that Shirou became concerned. Jōichirō just stared at him unmoving, eyes dialating, and face paling as his eyes brimmed with tears.

Shirou stood up and hesitantly walked over to the man.

"Y-Your shoulder," Jōichirō said without warning. "May I see it?"

Unsure of what to do, Shirou complied and rolled up the sleeve of his favorite blue and white long sleeve to reveal the small star-shaped birth mark on his shoulder.

Suddenly Jōichirō had embraced Shirou in a bone crushing hug.

"S-Shirou, I-I can't believe it." Jōichirō said as he wiped his eyes. No more words came from Jōichirō's mouth, but rather, his grip on Shirou tightened.

Shirou felt the stares of the crowd around them and couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable. However, he wrapped his arms around Jōichirō and allowed the man the time needed to recollect himself. Five minutes later, and Jōichirō had finally let go of Shirou.

"Who are you?" Was the first thing Shirou asked.

Jōichirō's posture relaxed and his mood seemed have increased to an unheard of level. A smile adorned his face, something in which Shirou couldn't help but admire as it mixed in so well with his long dark hair which was swept back, save for a single group of bangs that hung over his face down to his chin.

Jōichirō's sharp eyes softened, a hand raised to ruffle the slight beard on his chin as his mind worked for an answer to Shirou's question.

"I'm Jōichirō Yukihira," Jōichirō said while un-wrinkling his form fitting professional white chef's uniform. "...And I'm your father."

Flabbergasted, Shirou didn't resist as Jōichirō pulled him to a local medical clinic for a paternity test. It was two weeks later that the results came in positive.

As it would so happen, Shirou and his mother had been out on a tour of Fuyuki when the Great Fire caused by the Fourth Holy Grail War occurred. For years Jōichirō Yukihira had believed that they were both long dead, but Shirou broke that assumption within a day. Jōichirō Yukihira at the time, was left heart broken at the news and drowned his sorrows through cooking and raising Shirou's younger brother, Sōma Yukihira.

It didn't come as much of a surprise to anyone really that when the paternity test was verified, Jōichirō asked Shirou to visit their home. After a hasty explanation to Rin and Saber, Shirou was off back to Japan.

"Well," Shirou slumped his shoulders. "I guess I'm lost."

Looking around the street Shirou found himself in at present time, he couldn't fathom how fast things had escalated upon meeting his biological father, Jōichirō Yukihira. It was weird for him really, he had no experience with being an older brother, nor did he know how he should act around Jōichirō. It felt as if he was imposing on a life that was already balanced. Briefly, Shirou wondered if it would have been better had he not bumped into Jōichirō on that fateful London evening.

Before he could think further on it, a large crowd suddenly rushed into him and forced him to go with the flow. Arms brushed up against him and shoulders shoved him forward as he fought against the unrelenting crowd.

"Damn it, get out of my way!" A woman said as she forced Shirou to the side. "Don't you know he's returned!"

"All the more reason for me to do this!" A man suddenly pulled back the woman from earlier and overtook her.

"You bastard!" The woman raged and pushed on.

All around Shirou, similar conversations were occurring, all about his return. It didn't take long before the crowd thinned, all entering a single special-of-the-day type restaurant in front of him.

Raising his gaze from the paper in his hand, Shirou reluctantly entered the store.

And so signaled the start to Shirou's first day at restaurant Yukihira.

Chapter 2

It was a special of the day shop, something not uncommon in the neighborhood Shirou had just walked through, but it might as well have just been a fast food restaurant with how fast people came and went. Every table was full, the line leading to the cash register growing longer by the second. Shirou scratched at the back of his head and began to second guess his decision to meet with his remaining family, but he knew he couldn't back out now. Rin and Saber would no doubt be coming back to Japan for him like promised after dealing with a few issues at the Clock Tower, namely an excuse for his sudden leave.

He entered the shop and quickly sat down when a seat by the end of the serving table became available.

"Hope you liked it." A voice cut through the crowd.

Shirou set his gaze in the direction of the voice and could do nothing but widen his eyes, the sight before him rendering him speechless.

Soma Yukihira, auburn hair, golden-brown eyes, the resemblance between he and Shirou was simply uncanny. If before Shirou had doubts of his origins, even with the supposed paternity test, those doubts suddenly became brittal in the face of such similarity. Even the way they smiled when they watched others eat their food was similar.

At the head of the entire commotion, at the Yukihira's front counter, was Yukihira Jōichirō. The man moved with such grace, skill, and swiftness that it wouldn't be uncommon if others believed he was working under his station. Fact is, he probably was, judging from the information subtly filtering into his mind through the knife Jōichirō wielded in his right hand.

Structural analysis, a skill that only Shirou Emiya possessed that allowed him to judge the full history and concept of any object his eyes laid view on. And right now, his eyes were telling him of the passion and sorrow imbued within Jōichirō's knife. His passion towards cooking which was fueled by the love of his life, and his subsequent sorrow when the great fire took her away. In much the same way, Shirou was the same as Jōichirō. Shirou was a blade forged through fire and tempered through battle, but similarly he was given a purpose when everything was lost. A purpose that he still strove for, yet was constantly met with much sorrow. Like how Jōichirō found purpose in his cooking and Soma, Shirou had found purpose through his ideals and Kiritsugu.

Jōichirō sauted the mix of fried vegetables and tender beef in the deep dish pan he held aloft with his right hand, and promptly poured an ounce of wine with his left into the dish.

Wine, different from water, fully enhances the flavour of any meat. Take for example the properties of water to its chemical composition. In much the same way as water will not mix with oil due to its chemical composition and higher density, wine, an alcoholic beverage, breaks that boundary. By mixing with the flavours of the fatty oils that seep from the chunks of beef within the pan and the flavours of the numerous spices mixed along with the oil, wine better captures the optimum taste of any meat.

The smell that came from the combination of the beef, vegetables, and seasonings such as thyme, salt and pepper, drove Shirou's senses to the edge. And yet, Shirou found himself thinking of possible solutions to enhance the flavour of the dish; his subconscious use of structural analysis pestering him to add a pinch of dried ginger. However, before Shirou could think further on the action, Jōichirō topped the dish over steaming rice and drizzled two table spoons of caramelized gravy over the dish. The light topping of caramelized gravy practically made the dish glow.

"Order's up." Jōichirō said casually, laying the dish before the anticipating gaze of the woman Shirou recalled had shoved him out of the way moments prior.

The woman had her dark brown hair tied-back in a pony tail that cascaded down her back, her narrow hazel eyes transfixed on the spoon of food she held in front of her mouth. She blew softly, and the steam permeating from the fresh dish, wafted into her nose. No sooner, a blush adorned her face that sent her body squirming in delight. Her thighs rubbed together, her breaths coming out in uneven pants, when finally she lowered the spoon into her mouth, she felt nothing but euphoria.

Unbidden, Shirou turned his attention away from the customer who received the dish Jōichirō presented and decided to wait until the shop thinned out before approaching Soma or Jōichirō, but luck would have none of it.

Soma Yukihira stood across from Shirou, staring him in the eyes.

"Hmmm." Soma muttered. "I feel like I should know you. Oi pops!" Soma called to Jōichirō. "Do you recognize him?"

Jōichirō straightened his back and smiled fondly at Soma and Shirou's direction. No sooner than he smiled, did he abandon his duties to his customers without a second thought, family mattered more to him anyway. Though disapointed, Jōichirō's customers could feel the tension in the air. As such, they chose not to broach a complaint.

"Hey pops, didn't you say customers first?" Soma asked curiously.

"This is a special case." Jōichirō said as he walked over to Shirou and Soma, placing a hand on Soma's head and ruffling his hair. "This Soma," Jōichirō motioned towards Shirou. "Is your older brother, Shirou Yukihira."

Emiya.

Shirou would have interrupted, but knew it would have been highly insensitive to his family in front of him.

Soma eyed him curiously, but like Jōichirō, did little more than openly stare at him.

If Shirou were any other person, he would have been hard pressed to stand firm under the scrutiny of the crowd and family around him, but Shirou was Shirou. However, this didn't mean that Shirou had any means to start off on a friendly conversation. Shirou could tell by the look that Jōichirō was giving him that he was quite curious to learn as much as possible about him, but Jōichirō too had noticed the gazes of the crowd around them and couldn't very well broach the subject. Finally, Soma asked the only thing he knew he could to break the silence.

"Can you cook?" Soma asked.

Somehow, Shirou couldn't help but smile at the audacious question. Inspite of the gazes of the people around them, Soma had asked a question that many in the crowd might consider inconsiderate, but Shirou could see it as nothing more than a means to better get to know his family.

"Yes." Shirou answered while scratching at the back of his head. "I've had some practice living on my own since young." Shirou knew what he said wasn't a lie. After Kiritsugu died, he was ultimately left alone despite the numerous times Taiga showed up to stay by him.

Jōichirō's eyes narrowed.

"You lived alone?" Jōichirō ventured.

"Y-Yes." Shirou fumbled with his answer, unsure if his reply would trigger a negative reaction from Jōichirō.

Jōichirō stared mutely at Shirou, his hands balling into tight fists.

"Want to give it a go then?" Soma asked as he sensed a change in Jōichirō's mood. "Cooking I mean. Pops and I were having our 486th cooking duel."

"I'd love to." Shirou replied, taking Soma's offer as a means of escape. "Can I use your kitchen."

"-Our kitchen." Soma corrected Shirou. "We're family aren't we?"

"I guess so." Shirou replied with a faint smile.

Shirou knew there was no going back now; all eyes were on him as he took to the kitchen. Briefly, his eyes scoured the contents of the pantry and assessed the available ingredients. Meats, vegetable, dairies, and grain, all were there and accounted for.

"You can cook anything you want." Soma said helpfully.

Shirou nodded his head and grabbed an apron from the wall, tying it around his waist.

Shirou didn't really know what to feel at this point. Part of him wanted to live up to the expectations evident in the eyes of the people around him, but another more insignificant part of him wanted to take the time to recollect himself. Well either way, it didn't really matter anymore, he was already standing in front of the chopping board, eyes skimming over the various knives in front of him. It hit him then like a tone of bricks, a vision of a fiery auburn haired woman smiling lovingly down at him, her arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace.

Mother.

Shirou shook his head and turned to face Jōichirō.

"May I use that knife." Shirou asked Jōichirō, pointing unbidden at the dullest and cheapest looking knife on the display shelf. Its handle was made of plastic, three wooden rivets holding the bolster and stainless steel blade in place.

Jōichirō hesitated, his features pulling taut, but he relented, a wistful smile adorning his face.

"Go ahead." Jōichirō said.

Shirou grabbed the knife, and no sooner than he had, he was assaulted by memories, the tender history of the knife's owner.

"I love you Jōichirō."

Shirou's hands moved subconsciously, his fingers digging and grinding into a kilogram of ground beef after seasoning it with a hint of cayenne, pepper, and a pinch of salt. Subsequently, steam hit Shirou's face, carrying the fragrance of sizzling garlic and onions from a deep dish pan.

"Eat your vegetables Soma."

Shirou brewed a pot of boiling water, depositing one-inch potato chunks inside the pot before moving on to create a shredded blend of cabbage, spinach, and lettuce in a mixing bowl. Ears perking up to the sound of a timer, Shirou removed the sizzling onions and garlic, and began cooking the ground beef in the same pot to let the ground beef soak up the flavour of the onions and garlic found in the oil. Satisfied when the ground beef shifted to a crisp brown, Shirou once again added the cooked onions and garlic, and placed in a cup of crushed tomatoes.

Turning his attention to the pot of boiling potatoes, Shirou used a strainer and emptied the hot water from the pot, having let it sit for a good half hour on high heat. Thus, he then began to mash the soft potatoes left within the pot as he added in a handful of peas, corn, and bite-sized carrots.

"Shirou, you will always be my greatest inspiration."

Shirou's eyes glistened, but he blinked the feeling away, focusing his attention towards the dish's final presentation.

Shirou evenly spread the seasoned ground beef onto the the bottom of a glass baking tray then did the same with the carefully mashed potatoes, laying it atop the ground beef.

Sprinkling a spoon of parmesan over top the mash potato, Shirou served the dish in front of Jōichirō and Soma along with the improvised salad he made. Sliced tomatoes, croutons, and an assortment of bell peppers were topped on the salad.

"Eat all the vegetables, they're good for you." Shirou said involuntarily, the words naturally escaping his mouth.

Jōichirō held back a pang of hurtful nostalgia and tentatively took a bite of the Shepard's pie in front of him. Soma followed right on after.

There was no visible reaction, Jōichirō and Soma just kept on silently eating. Neither stopped, their gazes blank and focused solely on the dish in front of them. The murmuring of the onlooking crowd didn't distract them, the passing of time was irrelevant. It wasn't until they reached down for another bite and realized there was nothing left to eat, did Shirou notice the subtle shivering of Jōichirō's shoulders and reminiscent look on Soma's face.

Noticing the change, the crowd got the message that this wasn't the time to be demanding food, and one by one they willingly left the premise.

Shirou grew pensive. For when he was cooking, he had immersed himself in the history of the knife he had wielded, and produced its most familiar dish. A dish he now knew from the knife's history was a dish Satsuki Yukihira often made. She was a chef that specialized in western food, but above all she was a chef that made her greatest dishes for her family. And Shirou had drawn upon that inspiration and placed it into his cooking.

"...It was delicious." Jōichirō said, tears glistening in his eyes.

"...Yeah." Soma agreed, turning his face away.

Left unsaid, but in the eyes of both Soma and Jōichirō, the winner of the 486th cooking duel had already been decided.

Shirou: 1

Jōichirō: 485

Soma: 0

"I'm glad you liked it, but." Shirou's eyes narrowed, overlapping with an image of Satsuki Yukihira. God the way their eyes narrowed were similar. "Neither of you ate your vegetables."

Chapter 3

If an item carries the cherished memories of its owner, it's possible to convey the feelings held within by grasping the sentimental emotions left behind. However, what good would that do towards an individual who's reality is so distorted that common sense already fails him? It is a question which continues to elude one Shirou Emiya.

"Trace on."

For a fraction of second, pale blue light illuminated the spare room Shirou was staying within. In the next, a plain knife, who's handle was made of regular plastic, was grasped lightly in Shirou's hand. For what seemed like an eternity, Shirou stared transfixed at it.

He knew who the knife had belonged to, of course he did; the tender maternal affections of a soft spoken woman directed towards him from within the knife was unmistakable. However, what should he do knowing that his path in life would be the opposite of what his mother had wanted of him?

To be safe, to have a home, to have friends and loving family who would look out for him, is all Satsuki Yukihira had ever wanted of him. How ironic that things had turned out the way they had on that particular night of fire, to be given a life of constant danger.

To be an Ally of Justice

It wasn't an exaggeration to say the path would be full of betrayal and misery; so much so that even his future self was forced to see the futility of it, and yet he had promised himself atop a hill of blades that he wouldn't stray from his path.

Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that your correct!

Shirou clenched his fists, and heaved a sigh. There is no one correct method to solve a problem, perhaps he could find some sort of compromise. Be that as it may, he would have to drop the issue for now; he was already late for breakfast, and he would rather be there before Soma or Jōichirō could eat all the normal food and leave him to sample their unusual food innovations. He would rather not have a repeat of the incident with cod, jam, peanut butter, and soy sauce over rice topped with a mysterious powdered seasoning.

With a flick of his hand, the traced knife disappeared as Shirou left the room and headed for the kitchen.

"Jōichirō's not here?" Shirou asked, propping a chair for himself right across from Soma.

"Pops huh?" Soma's eyes flickered to Shirou and away from the empty breakfast plate in front of him. "He went out on another trip. May take awhile this time too."

"And you're okay with that? Its only been two weeks since I've gotten here."

Soma got up and yawned with his hand over his mouth.

"It was important," Soma shook his head. "Besides, he left knowing that we're capable of running restaurant Yukihira ourselves," he spoke confidently.

"That coming from the one who's lost 488- no I mean 489 times to their old man." Shirou replied flatly.

Soma shrugged as Shirou drank a glass of milk and began prodding at his eggs and bacon.

"All according to plan." Soma said back unperturbed. "Yesterday's battle was simply testing the waters, but next time, it will be my victory. Now if only those Urban planners would stop trying to get our store."

"Urban planners?" Shirou asked as he got up and put away his dishes into the sink at the counter.

For a long while now, urban real-estate planners had been harking at Jōichirō to sell restaurant Yukihira to be demolished and rebuilt for something more useful. However, Jōichirō had always refused such matters, and even Soma himself. Presently, the urban planners were still coming on a daily basis to pester Soma and Jōichirō to sell the store.

"It was the lady from last night," Soma shrugged as he answered. "I don't really remember her name though. Yako or something."

"It was Yaeko, and isn't that kind of rude?" He interjected.

In the end, all the urban planners had been doing was attempting to do business. No matter how persistent they were, it was still good to be at least polite to some degree.

"Meh, lets just hurry up and get to the store. We have to open by seven, and Oh," Soma smiled as he turned towards Shirou. "You're helping me cook today, or at least I hope you can. Ever since pops has come back we've been getting a lot more customers," Soma explained.

"No problems. I'll help," Shirou agreed. besides, he actually was quite fond of cooking in general.

After finishing a small breakfast, Soma grabbed the keys by the door and put on his shoes, his uniform hanging over his back. He beckoned for Shirou to hurry up, and together they left for restaurant Yukihira.

Only to find it completely vandalized.

Even the sign out front was painted over using white paint, making it impossible to even see Restaurant Yukihira printed on the top.

Shirou's eyes narrowed.

The Yukihira sign board was slanted, paint smeared along its surface and dripping down over flipped patio chairs and tables the Soma and Jōichirō

kept outside for the customer's convenience. When Shirou looked closer, he could also see that the damage encompassed parts of the roof; small bits of shattered glass from a few of the cups left lying around still crumbling away. Shirou's eyes then followed the trail of destruction straight into the back kitchen.

Soma's face remained impassive, however his hands gave him away.

Balled into tight fists, Soma's hands shook as his knuckles whitened. Slowly, Soma moved forward into the kitchen, his eyes drifting from broken appliance to broken appliance, maneuvering past the hazards in his way. Soma stopped by the freezer, and already Shirou could predict what he would see.

Meat, all the restaurant's meat had been trampled and destroyed.

"Well it's a bit trashed in here isn't it?" A woman accompanied by two men appeared at the entrance. "I do hope you can serve me a meat dish."

Shirou was the first to meet and inspect the visitors. His circuits flaring for a moment, it was enough to draw prana into his eyes. As he expected, trace amounts of broken glassware and paint still stuck beneath the soles of the feet of the two men that accompanied the woman into the store.

"And if not?" Anger laced itself along Shirou's words.

"Then I'm afraid you'll just have to close shop, isn't that right?" The woman directed her answer towards Soma who had just then walked out of the kitchen. "If you 'couldn't fulfill a customer's request' wasn't it."

The lady was referring to some agreement she must have made with Soma some time ago since a light flashed within Soma's eyes.

Thinking up to here, Shirou's lip twitched. It was the same everywhere, he thought. The same acts of deceit and underhanded tactics to bring misery upon others for only one's own benefit. He then remembered the promise Soma had made just the previous day after taking a moment to think about it. He soon grimaced.

If Soma couldn't fulfill a customer's request, he would close down the shop.

Well not today.

Shirou walked forward before Soma could speak up. He supposed it was part of being an older brother, but energy and confidence welled from within him.

"I'm afraid I must ask you to leave." Shirou stood stern in front of the people in front of him. "As you can see, the store isn't open yet, and to demand service in these conditions is deplorable."

Rin had rubbed off on him, Shirou internally mused. He would never have used such words otherwise.

"D-Deplorable?!" The woman said outraged. "H-How dare you, y-you hooligan." The woman took a moment to calm herself down. "To insult a customer, this restaurant has no shame."

"And I suppose you and the men behind you with shards of glass and paint still stuck on the soles of their shoes would know shame?" Shirou replied.

"Euh..." The woman relented, her face a deep shade of red. Quickly she glared at the two behind her, baffled at their stupidity. Why were they still wearing the same shoes? She shook her head and returned to staring down at Shirou, having regained her composure. "These two had business they had to attend to before arriving here, or does this restaurant not only insult their customers, but doubt them too?"

"It doesn't matter what you think. I will ask once again for you to leave." Shirou remained adamant through the woman's accusations. "Otherwise I myself will have to take action."

Shirou let loose a bit of his killer intent, and the woman buckled under the pressure.

"Yaeko," One of the two men whispered into the woman's ear. "He's dangerous."

"We can't give up now." Yaeko whispered back.

Tension filled the air. It wasn't until Soma laid a hand on Shirou's shoulder that the tension dissipated.

"You said you wanted a meat dish," A fire lit up in Soma's eyes. "Then it's a meat dish you will get."

When cooking food, it was always best to determine quality by smell, colour, and even texture before use. This was the case with most meats as one could be able to tell the general condition of the product.

This being the case, Shirou did not have that luxury as regardless of anything, the meats stored in the freezers and coolers were destroyed, or contaminated, making them unservable.

He placed a hand beneath his chin and began to think, his eyes eventually landing on the pile of less savoury meats that restaurant Yukihira did not often use in favour of leaner portions. However, Soma had already taken the initiative and was slowly sorting out the meat products he could and couldn't use.

"They really wrecked the place," Shirou spoke, a crease forming on his forehead as he looked around. Not only was the kitchen not spared the same fate as the dining lobby, but even some appliances appeared damaged.

This was what caused Soma to momentarily pause in his preparations, before wordlessly acting as if nothing had happened.

The life blood of a restaurant was in its appliances. With a restaurant such as Yukihira's, just by the number of customers the shop received on a daily basis, one could imagine the total quantity of orders. Thus, like regular fast-food chains, the appliances that allow for quick preparation of food was a must. Take for example the process of whisking eggs with batter and other such ingredients. What would normally take a time of ten or so minutes to evenly mix in a full bowl of product would only take a few moments with a stationary egg beater.

"I hope you both remember that this dish must involve meat," Yaeko spoke, feigning politeness for insult.

The kitchen was not separated from the main dining area by a wall, so it was possible for others and customers to see the chef work. In this regard, the two guards who had come with Yaeko were admiring their own work. They had made sure to thoroughly raid through all of the stored goods within the coolers and even the spice cabinets.

Looking at them, Yaeko couldn't help but sneer before she leaned in and whispered. "How could the both of you dare to look so smug?" She asked. From her tone, anyone could tell that she was still frustrated from moments before.

It was simply preposterous. What kind of criminal returns to the scene of the crime wearing the same clothing? Apparently her two guards. If not for that, she wouldn't have felt so threatened by the other older boy, Shirou Yukihira if she could remember correctly. Before she had ordered her body guards to come ransack restaurant Yukihira, she had indeed heard about the arrival of an older son of the restaurant owner. However, she didn't expect him to possess such a viscious and domineering aura. It was as if he had come back tempered from some absurd life or death experience. The army perhaps? Or maybe some underground organization like the Yakuza?

She shivered for reasons she could not easily name. It was just that looking at Shirou, her last assumption gave her cold feet since in some ways she could see the bearings of one familiar with the underground circles. She herself had once had dealings with them, but it was only a minor group subordinate to the main Fujimura Yakuza group. Regardless though, it was just in the way he reacted to her body guards on first contact. Not only did Shirou not show any concern about dealing with men who were most likely double his age, but he was able to discern the glass fragments stuck in the soles of her bodyguard's shoes. Such a thing meant he was either observant, or he was familiar with people who had exhibited such behaviour.

Needless to say, apart from her earlier provocation of supplying a meat dish, she kept meekly quiet after Shirou's stare landed on her.

"Soma," Shirou spoke as he stepped out from the cooler. "I've found a few vegetables that could be usable," he said before scratching his head. "Aside from that, I'm afraid most of the mushrooms we had on stock can no longer be used."

After saying so, one could see from the opened cooler door that most of the vegetables and fruit kept within the cooler were scattered across the ground. Some were brusied and blackened, but the majority were trampled beneath heavy feet.

"That's fine," Soma spoke as he laid all his preparations onto a prep table.

Like Shirou had thought earlier, Soma indeed used the neglected meat pieces normally thrown away in favour of better goods. The crucial thing about those pieces though, was that they were high in saturated fat content.

Fat for most animals and people, were craved by the body as it is a readily stored energy for the body in the form of adipose tissue. As such, fat held a great deal of flavour for the body as receptors found on the tongue are highly susceptible to it. However, for most people, consuming too much fat was not an option for those who were health conscious since the cholesterol found within could potentially block arteries and veins, assuming large consumption. This was why both Soma and Jōichirō separated the fattier meats from the lean. In doing so, flavour is lost, but then again, both Soma and Jōichirō used spices and herbs to accommodate.

"Leave the meat dish to me," Soma spoke confidently.

As a person who had lived with Soma for more than a week now, Shirou could confidently say that he could read the expressions of his younger brother. In this way, he determined that although Soma still appeared quite spirited, he was in fact, feeling a bit prideful inside. Even if restaurant Yukihira was reduced to such a state, he wished to prove that no matter what, restaurant Yukihira was not a restaurant to be taken lightly.

In this regard, Soma had sworn to blow them away with just the ingredients the store had on hand. It was a notion that Rin or Luvia may not completely be able to grasp.

The notion was simple really.

A man's pride.

Even he could understand that notion since perhaps he had his own pride in his ideals.

"Then I'll handle some of the sides," he spoke.

If Soma was going to work on the meat dish, he could make a side of salad with the food he had salvaged from the cooler.

Soma nodded his head, and the two then went off to work on their respective dishes.

With Soma, the only usable portions of meat he'd been able to gather were the thin slices of pork bacon with large streaks of white fat lining the upper most regions he had bought before coming to the store. In this regard, he frowned as there was not much he could do with just the strips alone. Although bacon and the fat on it was good in and out of itself, it didn't have the impact he needed to make sure these forceful real-estate agents never came back again.

A glimmer appeared in his eyes as he noticed some bruised potatoes lying within a bin at the far distant corner of the room. Thinking for a second, he smiled as an idea came to mind.

As for Shirou, he had taken out one of the cutting boards from the counter, and then promptly laid out his ingredients adjacent to it. Growing up with Kiritsugu, it was he who had to prepare all the meals as he couldn't trust either Taiga Fujimura or Kiritsugu with the kitchen. Not after the first time the house was nearly set ablaze.

Picking up some of the carrots, he began to cut those first, dicing them into thin and long pieces which he would then use to sprinkle on top of the romaine. What he had been able to bring out from the cooler including the carrots and romaine, were apples, onions, parmesan cheese, and a red bell pepper.

Following the carrots, the next thing he cut were the apples into small lego-sized pieces. The thing about a salad that made it more appetizing was the appearance itself. This was why no restaurant or shop would dare call a mixture of vegetables to be a salad. For example, if one were to grab a full carrot and stock of celery, and then promptly mix them together with a whole piece if lettuce, could that be called a salad? In fact, it would be more accurate to call it a vegetable basket.

Cutting the rest of the salad pieces didn't take very long for him who'd had his own years of practice within the kitchen.

Getting a small bowl, he began to arrange the salad design from sticking the leafiest pieces of romaine lettuce near the edges of the bowl, and then promptly laying the smaller cut pieces within the center. Soon after, he sprinkled the chopped carrots, peppers, red onions, and diced apples over top. From there, he took a grater and sprinkled small bits of parmesan over top.

The presentation itself was enough to draw Yaeko and her guard's eyes, but they felt safe as it was not an actual meat dish.

He didn't really take notice of that though as he moved on to the most important step of creating a salad. Generally speaking, the best part of a salad was not found within the vegetables and fruit found within, but on the life-blood of a salad, the dressing. Arguably, the dressing was the main component of flavour of a salad. Otherwise, what would be the difference between a salad and just eating raw vegetables? There wouldn't be much difference at all.

Glancing at Soma, he could generally see that Soma was working with pork bacon and potatoes. He had other ingredients around him as well, but that wasn't important. What mattered was that the meat dish Soma was making involved pork.

He pondered to himself for a moment, trying to decide what dressing would best to accompany the salad after consuming something pork based. As an unspoken rule, most people ate their salads last. Even Rin and Saber did. Rin admitting that she ate the salad last to satiate the guilt of eating too much sweets and calories. Saber however, couldn't have had cared less. The woman was like a vacuum cleaner with the way she ate, her stomach a bottomless pit.

Still, the point of the matter was that he needed a dressing that would be able to accompany a pork dish. As such, he ruled out the notion of Ceaser dressing, as that particular topping worked best with a chicken based product. Greek was also out as he didn't have the couscous necessary for a Greek flavouring.

He didn't arrive at an answer until he noticed the sour expression forming on Yaeko's face as a result of the apprehension she felt while watching Soma.

Hmm, something sour could indeed work as a dressing.

A moment later, and a particular dressing came to mind.

With that alone, he ended up finishing the side dish just as Soma placed the meat dish he made into the oven to cook.

Staring at each other, he gave a quick nod as Soma smiled.

"It seems things went well on your end," Soma complimented, looking at the salad.

"Well, it's nothing praise worthy," he spoke. "Making the salad itself is not something hard for anyone to do."

Soma quirked his lips. "But making a dressing from scratch is not easy," he said.

Indeed. If one wasn't careful when making dressing, their proportions would be uneven, causing an imbalance to the particular taste sought after. It would be akin to adding too much salt or sugar while baking, ruining the entire dish.

"You seem confident," he spoke after a moment.

Exactly as it would seem, Soma did not appear to be the slightest bit worried about the turnout of his dish.

"It's a Yukihira special," Soma replied as if it was only natural. He then looked towards the far wall at the clock. "It should be done in ten or so minutes, twenty at most."

"I hope you remember it's a meat dish," Yaeko spoke after the two paused in their conversation.

The two guards beside Yaeko tensed as Shirou turned his gaze in their direction.

"Naturally," Soma spoke.

Apprehension once again filled Yaeko's gaze before she leveled a skeptical glare at her two guards. "Are you sure that the both of you ruined everything?"

"Yes mam," the two whispered.

"Then are you both sure that there's no meat left in the store?" Yaeko pressed.

With her question whispered, the guards could only cringe as they couldn't accurately recall. "I believe so, mam," one of them said. However, the one who spoke was far from confident, his chest deflated and his gaze directed at the floor.

Yaeko bit her nail. It was a habit she had thought that she had gotten rid of, but in times of high tension and stress, she found herself unknowingly reverting to the habit. It was at that point, that a third guard entered the store and whispered something into her ear. Shooing him away with her hand, the two guards became three. Annoyingly, she noticed that this third guard also had not replaced his shoes which still had bits of glass and other such pieces stuck in the soles.

Time ticked on with the sun starting to set high over head. In fact, there were even a couple people that walked by in front of the restaurant. Regulars from what Soma said. However, upon seeing the closed sign up front, those people left after a couple of moments, scratching their heads as they looked forward to a dish by Jōichirō. Either way though, they probably wouldn't be able to enjoy such a dish as Jōichirō was currently away from the store.

"It's done," Soma spoke after a moment.

Nodding his head, Shirou finished off the rest of his salad by topping it with a couple pieces of croutons he had made by toasting bread repeatedly, and then promptly crushing them into smaller bite sized pieces.

Soma grabbed a plate with its edges folded up at the sides to prevent any spills, and then placed his meat dish on it before applying a layer of sauce over top.

The meat dish appeared to be a meat role of some sort, with bacon used as an outer lining to the stuffing held within. A piece of string was used to hold the bacon pieces in place as the dish cooked.

"Gotcha Pork."

Soma didn't say anything more as he laid the plate in front of Yaeko.

"I told you to serve me a meat dish," Yaeko crossed her arms. "A restaurant like this, there's no way it could compare to first rate restaurants or luxury hotels like the one's I've helped produce. This restaurant isn't even worth existing."

The smell from the food wafted up Yaeko's nose, and her face couldn't help but colour. Prior to arriving at restaurant Yukihira, she had not eaten as she believed that everything would result in a quick affair; the restaurant unable to serve her even a single meat dish then being forced to shut down.

Soma grunted. "Then this one dish will tell you whether or not restaurant Yukihira is worthy of existing," he said.

Shirou who had been idle at the start of the conversation then set the salad he had made down beside Soma's Gotcha Pork. It would help to maintain a good level of nutrition even though just the potatoes in Soma's Gotcha Pork would be enough.

Tenuously, Yaeko gripped the fork provided, and pierced into the Gotcha Pork, a wave of steam stored within blasting across her face. Her mouth was beginning to water, but she refused to show any eagerness as she brought a piece towards her mouth.

Silence.

Yaeko's mouth opened, and only now did it become apparent that she was salivating, small threads of saliva momentarily sticking to her lips.

Her face became heated, her legs crossing together while her body shuddered, a tingling sensation running through her that caused her to gasp. Her chest heaved up and down, the pace of her breathing increasing with the redness of her cheeks that flared into a bright crimson.

As she chewed, a sheen of light sweat seemed to completely cover her skin, giving her a glossiness that accentuated her feminine curves.

Shirou coughed into his hand, blushing and feeling completely lost after seeing such a reaction.

What the hell was happening? Was she moaning?

He had never seen anything like this before. Sure, he had cooked for many people in the past, Saber, Rin, Taiga, Kiritsugu, and many others, but never had he seen someone act quite like this. It was just food, wasn't it? Just to be sure, he activated his structural analysis, an ability that allowed him to completely discern an object, and critically stared at the Gotcha Pork. Finding nothing wrong with it, he couldn't help but rub his eyes and hope everything was just an illusion.

Nope.

Not an illusion.

Yaeko was currently rubbing her legs together, her expression somewhat lewd and heated as she continued to chew.

At this point, Shirou was starting to believe that the Wizard Marshal had pulled a fast one on him, and dragged him to an identical dimension as his own with the only difference being this. Still, no matter how much he wanted to believe so, he had confidence that he would have had seen it should the Wizard Marshal attempt anything on him. Thus, he put aside that theory for now, glancing to the side to avoid staring at Yaeko lest his reasoning of common sense and worldly realities be shattered.

"You look like you're enjoying that?" Soma said with a straight face.

Shirou stared at Soma incredulously. How was he un-effected by this? He couldn't help thinking.

Soma then went to explain the secret of the flavouring and cooking method.

First, Soma had mashed the potatoes into a thin paste before mixing them together with the finely chopped mushrooms and onions. Onions were naturally fibrous, but their taste had a small bitterness hidden within. Thus, the onions were added for the increase in sweetness. This was the reason why people marinate their meat with onions and garlic before hand. Not only does it tenderize the meat, but the flavour seeps in as well.

From there, after mixing the mushrooms and onions in with the crushed potatoes, he wrapped the bacon slices around them and then cooked it in the oven for ten to twenty minutes. Potatoes and mushroom are naturally fibrous as mentioned above. As such, this makes them highly susceptible to absorbing the fat produced by the bacon within the oven. A crispy outside is formed, while a tender interior is maintained.

Squirming, with her cheeks flaring red, "You can't call this a meat dish!" She spoke stubbornly as her flats came off her feet, revealing her black stockings.

However, even as she spoke, the fork in her hand moved to take another piece.

"W-What are you doing?" Yaeko asked indecisively.

Soma had swiped the plate from the table and was currently holding it in his hand.

"If you want more, promise me that you won't come after this restaurant again," he said.

An incredulous look appeared over Yaeko's face. "W-Who would promise such a thing," she stuttered out.

"Okay then," Some spoke indifferently as he walked with the dish in his hand towards the garbage. "It's a waste but I have no choice."

"Wait!" Yaeko yelled, stretching out her arm as she noticed where Soma was going.

At this point, it felt like the salad Shirou had made was completely forgotten, yet the person in particular didn't seem to mind, an incredulous expression over his face. The rest of the proceeding happened exactly as Shirou then expected.

Yaeko had promised to never come after restaurant Yukihira again, and Soma then allowed for her and the guards with her to finish off the Gotcha Pork.

Each of them took a fork full of the Gotcha Pork into their mouths, the three trembling and murmuring quietly as they chewed.

Suddenly, for what seemed like a moment,

they're clothes,

ripped off.

Shirou was banging his head on the table. This couldn't possibly be real. What he had seen was almost like,

Like,

A foodgasm.

The reality Shirou once knew at that moment seemed to have eternally cracked.

By the time Yaeko and her guards regained their sense, and set their sights on the salad Shirou had made, he had long since walked out the door; ignoring the chill that went down his back as a sultry voice seemed to yell out with a moan, 'balsamic vinegar.'

What the fuck?

No really.

What the fuck?!

The next day had arrived, and Shirou was still rubbing his temples contemplating just what it was that had happened the previous day. The only other development was that Jōichirō had decided to go forth on another trip of some kind, leaving him and Soma alone again.

It was still early in the morning, and he was sure that Soma had just went to restaurant Yukihira, therefore, he judged that he was alone in the house.

Sitting down, he closed his eyes and began practicing what he had learned from his fight with Archer, and the many things he had learned at the clock tower.

Magic known as prana thrummed through his body, interface-like patterns appearing on his skin and travelling down his arms where they transferred over to a metal pan found within his room. It wasn't odd to find such kitchen appliances in the room he was staying at, as it was a guest room both Jōichirō and Soma used for storage before he had arrived.

The decision to leave the Clock Tower and visit Jōichirō's home was partly due to feelings of guilt. He really had no recollection of Jōichirō, but it was because of that, that he could see the pain within Jōichirō's eyes. And he being himself, he could not allow the man to continue suffering. Thus, if his presence here was enough to alleviate that pain, then so be it.

Still though, wasn't it kind of redundant for Jōichirō to suddenly leave weeks after he had just arrived? Based on how Jōichirō was acting before, he didn't think the man would actually leave. Therefore, it must be due to some kind of important business of sorts.

Placing the matter aside for the moment, he turned back to focus on his training. Flicking the reinforced frying pan, he nodded his head in satisfaction as he directly felt its sturdiness. It wasn't a weapon, but it could damn well be used as one now.

A knock sounded at his door, momentarily startling him before he calmed himself down. Thinking about it, he wasn't sure who would want to meet him this early in the morning.

"Come in," he spoke after contemplating for another short moment.

Soma pushed open the door, a complex look over his face.

Shirou was surprised for a moment. Unless Soma had just walked to the store and back, he shouldn't have returned back home this early. Meaning, something must have had happened.

"I met dad by the store," Soma admitted.

Shirou's eyes widened. He had thought that Jōichirō left already.

"And?" Shirou asked.

"He's decided to close down the store for two or three years," Soma spoke before revealing a documentation of sorts. It was a transfer document to enter a culinary school to be more precise.

Tōtsuki Academy.

"Are you planning on transferring?" He asked.

Soma nodded his head uncertainly. "The thing is, dad wasn't sure if you wanted to come along since you'd be at an older year than me, but he still did the paper work anyway."

Soma handed the papers over for Shirou to read.

Skimming over the material, Shirou raised a brow. "Older year? It says here that I'd still be considered a first year since it's my first time there."

"Oh?" Soma said.

"You didn't read the finer print, did you?" Shirou said.

Reading the finer print was not something most people did, so Shirou couldn't really fault Soma for that. However, too many times he had heard from people he knew about signing things without reading through them. Eventually, this habit would lead to trouble.

"You really should start reading these things over," he admonished.

Soma laughed before scratching the back of his head in a manor similar to Shirou himself.

Even now, if one put Shirou and Soma beside each other, the similarities between the two were simply unmistakable. The hair, skin colour, and even down to the eyes, there was a great deal of similarity.

Shaking his head as he thought of such things, Shirou stood up from the desk he was sitting at, and placed the pan back to hang along the hooks of the left walls.

"I'll at least check it out," Shirou said.

Seeing the look on Soma's face, he was able to see that part of Soma's hesitation to transfer to Totsuki was due to him. Understanding this was why he had decided to at least come along with Soma.

"That's good to hear," Soma said before rummaging through his bags and giving Shirou an application paper. "It's a good thing pops prepared everything before hand."

"I thought I was just going to check it out?" Shirou smiled wryly.

"Checking it out, and applying, there's not much difference between the two anyway. There's still an entrance exam or something like that." Soma reasoned.

Releasing a breath, Shirou knew he wasn't the type to argue. It was why Rin and Luvia could so easily get him to do what either of the two wanted. Only Saber, with her straight forward personality wouldn't needlessly boss him around. Although when she wanted food, it was quite questionable indeed.

Moments later, Shirou got dressed and ready to leave.

Soma was waiting for him by the door carrying a small case behind his back with one hand. Seeing it, Shirou recognized it as the culinary set Jōichirō kept in the storage area of the kitchen.

"We might need it," Was all Soma said to explain.

Shrugging, the two then set off towards the academy located in the address, pausing as a commotion appeared ahead near the academy gates.

A man was begging a guard, pulling at the sleeve of the guard and yelling for another chance.

The scene was quite shocking, even more so for Soma who looked utterly surprised at the ginormous building behind the guard.

After all,

Totsuki Academy was the number one culinary school in the country.