My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 639

However, to be honest, yesterday's class was more experimental. I guess tutors at tutoring centers usually assess a student's level before class. That's roughly the feeling, though I don't really understand it myself.

In other words, Yuihama's culinary training officially begins today.

"So who is the teacher you're talking about? Someone who's good at cooking?"

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know...?"

Yuihama was dumbfounded. "I'm sorry, I really didn't know."

I only invited her here because I hoped that "at her age, she could at least cook." In other words, she's the only person in my circle of friends who can cook and is willing to come here.

"Don't worry. I think she can at least cook. Otherwise, I feel like no one would want her, it's so pitiful..."

"Hey, I heard you, Hachiman..."

The powerful voice and the sound of the door to the home economics classroom opening came almost at the same time.

Today's guest—Ms. Hiratsuka, who serves as my instructor, had veins bulging on her forehead and was glaring at me menacingly.

"Um, let me tell you something first? The idea that all adult women living alone have amazing cooking skills is a misconception..."

Having already learned the reason for the incident, Hiratsuka-sensei, with a very embarrassed expression, came up with a bunch of reasons that sounded like she was making excuses.

"Oh, so this is really too difficult for teachers?"

"What nonsense are you spouting, Hachiman! You think cooking is too difficult just because you can't cook? How could you possibly get married!"

"Um, I wasn't talking about marriage..."

When I said it was too difficult, I meant cooking, not getting married.

There's nothing I can do; people at this age are usually particularly sensitive about these things, but seeing her so obviously anxious, I just can't bear it. Please, someone marry this person! I'm serious...

"You introverted guy, how rude of you! Hiratsuka-sensei has been single for so long, of course she can cook!"

“Ugh!”

Yuihama's well-intentioned chime-up caused Hiratsuka-sensei to kneel on the ground like a boxer hit in a vital spot.

"Hey, Yuihama. This is a sensitive topic. Don't say things like 'being single for a long time' that hit the nail on the head. The teacher is completely exasperated."

"Huh? Uh, misunderstanding! No, I just meant that the teacher seems very capable... Ah—no, that's right! The teacher is so capable, even if she never gets married in her entire life, it'll be fine!"

“Ugh!”

Like running someone over with a car and then running them over again while reversing, Hiratsuka-sensei was already barely breathing after being struck by Yuihama's second arrow, which had hit a vital spot. Hey, is this guy really trying to comfort her? Or does she actually hate Hiratsuka-sensei and is trying to drive her to suicide?

"That's enough, stop talking, Yuihama. You didn't mean any harm, but it's actually making me sadder..."

Seeing Hiratsuka-sensei so weak and powerless, I realized that bullying a teacher is wrong. (Period)

Let's put this conversation aside for now.

"Then let me ask you seriously, does Hiratsuka-sensei know how to cook?"

Hiratsuka-sensei was completely different from before, answering confidently:

"Don't underestimate me, Hachiman. I don't know if I can be called good at it, but I've watched the entire series of Food Wars! and Cooking Master Boy!"

“I-I see…”

The comics I've read are from so many different eras that I strongly feel the age gap. Also, I don't think the cooking comics I've read have any connection to cooking skills.

"Uh, so what are we going to do today?"

"Hmm. Although it's a basic dish, how about fried rice? I've prepared all the ingredients."

"Ah—not bad. Cold fried rice in a bento box is actually quite delicious."

"Heh. Right? Leave it to me."

Hiratsuka-sensei smiled smugly.

Therefore, let's begin with the flat kitchen—or, more accurately, the hilltop kitchen.

"These are the materials."

On the kitchen counter, Mr. Hiratsuka placed three items: "frozen white rice", "pork belly", and "EB○RA Golden Barbecue Sauce".

"Huh?! Is this all the ingredients for fried rice?!"

Yuihama was taken aback. Incidentally, I was also surprised, exclaiming "Huh?!" next to her.

"Um, teacher, could this be a really high-level joke?"

"Calm down, Hachiman. Your reaction is normal, but watch closely. It—"

Teacher Hiratsuka lightly tapped the white cap of the "EB○RA Golden Barbecue Sauce" bottle with her fingertips.

"It will work magic on fried rice."

What's that line? It's so cool... This person definitely watched "Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma" yesterday... They definitely memorized it on purpose and saved it for now...

Just ten minutes later.

"Done. This is the hidden dish at Hiratsuka Restaurant, 'Special EB○RA Golden Fried Rice'."

"It's ready!" Ms. Hiratsuka placed the fried rice in front of us.

The method was "pan-fry the meat (with a ton of barbecue sauce) → add rice (with a ton of barbecue sauce) → plate it (with a ton of barbecue sauce)," which was roughly what I expected, very casual. It seems like poor male college students or freelancers would only know how to make this kind of messy dish, calling it cooking.

We swallowed countless complaints and then picked up a spoon to try them out.

As for the most important element, the flavor.

"...It's incredibly delicious. Hey Yui, you should try some too. You can only taste the barbecue sauce, it's really good."

"Huh, is that a compliment?... It really is! You can only taste the barbecue sauce! It's delicious!"

"EB○RA is amazing! The golden barbecue sauce is so delicious!" We praised as we ate, and before we knew it, the golden fried rice was gone. Seeing this, Professor Hiratsuka showed an unprecedentedly smug expression.

"Heh. How about that? Now you understand my strength, don't you?"

Uh, sorry, it was delicious, but that's not the teacher's skill, it's EB○RA's. The skill of a top domestic company. All I can taste in my mouth is the barbecue sauce.

"I mean, teacher, you're always making this kind of 'middle-aged man' stuff, are you really going to never get married?"

"What did you say……⁉"

The chef—correction, Ms. Hiratsuka, a female teacher around thirty years old—was so shocked that her knees buckled.

This fried rice is really manly, clearly conveying the reason why the teacher can't get married.

Please, someone marry her! I'm serious. I'm waiting for a magnanimous man who wouldn't be scared even if she served him fried rice with barbecue sauce, but would instead eat it with a smile.

"...I said."

Yuihama looked at the empty plate and seemed to have thought of something.

"I mean, thinking about it carefully, I don't want Yukino to eat this. She'd be absolutely shocked..."

Indeed...

Following yesterday's attempt at making a wooden stand, today's helper, Mr. Hiratsuka, also failed miserably.

Yuihama seems to be getting anxious.

"Sigh... Will my cooking skills really improve if I keep going like this...?"

She muttered in frustration. She was right. With no other help available, it seemed like they were at their wits' end.

However, have you all forgotten that there is another reliable man?

"Huh? Where? Where? Where is it? Who is it?!"

"Uh, it's me..."

“Eh…”

As soon as I gave my name, Yuihama used a combination of facial expressions and voice to express a strong sense of disappointment.

"But all you can cook is curry, right?"

"Idiot, as long as I use my real skills, I can cook anything except curry. Bento is a piece of cake."

“Eh…”

As soon as I confidently declared, Yuihama used a combination of facial expressions and voice to express a strong sense of no expectation.

"Ha, just wait and see, I'll teach you how to make a real 'bento' tomorrow."

I declared with full confidence.

Because I have a treasured secret plan.

The next day after school.

On the table in the home economics classroom were foods perfect for making bento boxes—rice balls (with salmon filling) that perfectly retained the crispness of seaweed, meatballs that kids love, juicy fried chicken that could be the star of the bento, tender mini omelets, and various other side dishes, all of which were simply perfect.

"Huh, really...? Did you really make all of this??"

When Yuihama arrived at the home economics classroom and saw the dishes, she exclaimed in surprise.

"Wow, that's unbelievable... It looks amazing..."

She sighed, and I nodded in response.

Then, hand out the pre-prepared disposable chopsticks.

"Try it. I'm confident in its taste as well as its appearance."

As I said, Yuihama was very satisfied. Rice balls, meatballs, fried chicken, croquettes. She tasted them one by one in order, praising how delicious they were with every bite.

"Wow, this autistic guy is amazing! I didn't know you were such a good cook. I'm starting to respect you!"

After tasting each dish, she said this with shining eyes.

I felt a little embarrassed by the direct praise.

However, as long as I use this "secret strategy" I've prepared, even someone as moved as Yuihama can easily make these dishes. 100% sure.

"Huh, really?"

"Yes, absolutely."

The moment I answered, Yuihama's face lit up with a smile, and she struck a victory pose.

"Using that 'secret method,' how long would it take to make these dishes?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's really fast. It only takes about fifteen minutes. You can do that too, right?"

"Wow, you can make such delicious food so quickly?!"

"Oh—yes."

Yuihama was trembling with emotion, murmuring, "Wow, so amazing... it's practically magic..." I nodded in agreement, "Yes, it really is."

"7-Eleven is truly amazing. It's incredible that they can make such delicious food so easily. You can feel how hard they work."

"………………………………………………What?"

"Wow, no wonder it has the most convenience stores in the country. The quality of their frozen food is just different. I could eat it every day and never get tired of it. 7-Eleven feels so good (Note 5)."

"What? Huh? Wait a minute? Wait a minute? You mean, huh?"

Yuihama seemed to be in a state of confusion, repeatedly saying "Wait, wait, wait," while pointing her palm at me.

"...Wait, are all of these frozen foods?!"

"Huh? What do you mean, 'it's just...'?"

Well, to be precise, only the rice balls aren't frozen, but everything else is frozen food. I don't know if she even heard that additional explanation.

"…………………………………………………………………………"

Perhaps due to shock, Yuihama stood frozen in place, mouth agape, like a statue. Her heart might have even stopped beating.

I had barely thought that when, a moment later, Yuihama, having regained consciousness, shouted at the top of her lungs:

"...You, you big idiot! Moron! Fool! Using frozen food makes no sense! There's absolutely no handmade element involved!!"

"What? Do you know how much frozen food housewives across the country stuff into their bento boxes? It's not about whether it's homemade or not, it's about the thought, the sentiment."

"There's absolutely no thought involved! It's just heating it up in the microwave! Even if there is, it's the thought from the people at the 7-Eleven factory!"

"No, no, no, it's filled with my heart too. Do you think I pressed the button to heat it for two minutes at 600W with such sincere love?"