The Dinner before the Concert

Sato: Megumi said 3pm right?

Watson: Yep! I’m so excited!!

Are you all ready? : Ryuuto

Lafon: I’m ready.

Sato: Did you eat anything today?

Lafon: No. Saving room for dinner.

Sato: I think you spelled dessert wrong.

Lafon: Shut up.

Tachibana-senpai also said there will be an after-concert treat-run: Ryuuto

Lafon: (｡◕‿‿◕｡)

Lafon: Friendship ended with Serina. Now Iwasaki is my best friend.

Sato: ?!?!?!?! (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Watson: ┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ)

To be fair, the dinner started at 4, so that there was enough time between that and the concert at 6:30 pm, so Lafon’s abstinence from food so far today was reasonable.

Now, for what happened earlier today….

***

“Iwasaki-kun? Whatcha making?” I heard Sato’s voice from the common room as I was moving the pan on the induction cooker.

“Breakfast.” I looked up and saw Sato…. Ah now she's pouting because I gave such a deadpanned answer. “Omurice.”

“Omu—rice—”

“Like an omelette on rice,” I explained. “I had extra eggs and leftovers, so thought I’d make a nice meal out of it.”

“Ahh..that sounds good!” She came around towards the stove, eyeing the different ingredients. “Do you cook often?”

“Not that often,” I replied, cracking the eggs into the mixing bowl. “Back in high school, whenever my parents worked evenings, I’d make something for my sisters and I–”

“Ahh—eh, your sisters? You haven’t told me about any siblings!” Correction, not that I’ve excluded you from this information in particular–

“Yeah–I have two younger sisters,” I paused mixing the eggs for a second. “Kaede’s two years younger, and Shoko is six years younger—”

“Kaede….Shoko…” she repeated.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope! Only child!” She continued looking at the eggs. “That’s cool you learned to cook for them, I’d help my mom cook, and it was fun.”

I tilted the bowl in her direction. “You wanna help?”

“Okay! Looks easy–” she took the bowl and got the last egg to crack—hold on, she’s winding her arm back a bit too far—

She took the egg and, in a supposed attempt to crack it open, smashed it on the side edge of the bowl…causing it to explode and send pieces of eggshell into the mix and across the table.

“Sato-san…could it be that–”

“Not another word!” she blurted, cheeks turning pink.

After cleaning up, I continued with the dish until it was ready. “And done.” I placed the omelette on the plate of rice. At least de-shelling the eggs wasn’t too difficult. I got the ketchup bottle and let Sato decorate it —looks like she chose a smiley face.

“It looks good,” she beamed. As she looked at it with eyes of wonder, I handed her a spoon.

“It’d be mean at this point if you didn’t know how it tasted.”

“Really?” She took the spoon and scooped a bite. “Mmmmm!” She really seemed to like it. Take that, Shoko, complaining about my cooking since you’re such a picky eater…then again, arguing with a twelve-year-old about taste was futile to begin with.

***

At the meetup time, Tachibana and some of her clubmates grouped us together, welcoming us to the event and explaining a little bit about the club before doing some of those ‘icebreakers’ that clubs do. Once that was out of the way, it was off to dinner and the concert. I counted roughly fifty people coming to dinner, and I would believe most were also invited to the concert.

The restaurant had a reserved section of several tables for ten, and our group filed in and sat down. As we sat down, I quickly took note of who was sitting at the table. To my right were two students from Kyoto whom I briefly interacted with at the meetup location. The four of us were in the middle, with Sato to my left, Lafon directly across, and Watson diagonally to the left. On Watson’s right were two classmates of theirs—the two seats to the left of Sato were open.

“Ah, are these two seats open?” a guy’s voice from the left asked–a familiar voice.

“Yep!”

I looked over, and there were two people I recognized. The girl I've seen a few times in the hallways of Fukuoka.

And the guy, Tanabe Shoji, is one of my former classmates. Captain of the boys’ tennis team at Fukuoka.

“Iwasaki–– “ Tanabe replied as he recognized me, “long time no see.”

“Likewise, Tanabe.”

“You two know each other?”

I paused before replying. “We went to the same high school.”

“Yep, the three of us!” he gestured.

“Wow! ” Sato replied. “Small world! I don’t think I’ve met anyone I knew from the States here–”

“I think someone from my high school went here before, but they’ve already graduated,” Watson mentioned.

Their side of the table started introducing each other as everyone was seated and started perusing the menu. Sato and one of her classmates, whom I overheard was also American, kept that conversation going about something I wasn’t quite familiar with…a TV show, I believe.

I was convinced they would ask further about my high school days…but I’m not complaining.

The table ordered, and dinner commenced. As Sato went for the first set of appetizers, Watson, Lafon, and I instinctively took our glasses of water closer to ourselves, eliciting a mighty reaction from Sato as she was reminded of a certain incident during our first dinner together.

“You guys!?” she pouted. Sorry, Sato, you’ve done this to yourself–

As the conversation went back and forth, Sato was able to get her food and take a bite.

“So delicious!” 

“Really? Like how good?” Watson asked.

“Hm…compared to Iwasaki-kun’s omurice–” Look, putting a level 1 home-cooked dish against restaurant-quality food isn’t fair–I appreciate the comparison though–wait–

“What? Iwasaki-kun, you made omurice??”

“What’s that–”

Sato’s classmates started looking at me with inquisitive looks, and now I was at an impasse. This is exactly the opposite of blending in!?

Seems as though only the two of them were listening…and luckily, my former schoolmates sitting on the other side of Sato were out of their seats, looking like they’re chatting at another table.

“It’s–ah not easy to explain, I wonder if there’s some sort of potluck event for the club,” I deflected.

“Oooh, that sounds super fun!”

“We should ask the second years if that’s a thing–”

Ryuuto’s deflection skills are unmatched.

As dinner continued, I would reply in the conversation here and there on either side—the guys on my right when they mentioned a new anime adaptation, then to my left when Lafon and Sato started bantering about cuisine superiority. Not to mention, the food here was quite appetizing, and soon enough we were going through the main courses.

I excused myself to the restroom. As I went to wash my hands at the sink, my former classmate was also there.

“Yo, Iwasaki-kun,” Tanabe greeted, washing his hands. “Having fun tonight so far?”

“Sure, the food’s good at least.”

Tanabe chuckled. “Feels like you’re enjoying things more here.”

“You think so?” I deadpanned.

“I mean, back then, you were pretty serious and aloof. To be fair, none of us were doing you and the council any favors.”

“Yeah…maybe it was the stress–”

“True, Seitokaichou” 

“Don’t remind me–”

“Gotcha…no worries,” he shrugged. “New school, new opportunities, right?”

“Something like that.” Tanabe wasn’t a bad guy, in my book at least. I lumped him into the category of popular boys who, of the group, were the least insufferable. I wouldn’t call him, or anyone from Fukuoka for that matter, a friend, though.

“Alright, I’ll head back, hope the rest of the night is fun too! Looking forward to the concert!”

“....Same here, Tanabe.”

Not long after he left, I finished washing my hands and headed back to the dining area. New opportunities, huh.

To think that university was some sort of reprieve from what high school turned out to be….seems to be a backwards logic that I had bought into—but given the circumstances, it probably was the correct path. Never-ending responsibilities, only a machine could have handled that.

As I sat down, a menu was set down in front of me—ah yes, the dessert menu.

“Crème brûlée,” I voiced out, reading the menu further. Sounds good…I looked over to see Lafon eyeing each menu item as if she were making the most important decision of her life.

At this moment in time, it was highly likely.

Sato was also scanning the menu, or more so the pictures, as the text was Japanese. Looks like she’s trying to decide as well. She does like desserts with strawberries; that lunch with the set dessert, she went straight for all the strawberries like a hawk.

I looked at my menu, noticing a menu item that had fresh strawberries– strawberry panna cotta. It was one of the items without a picture, so Sato might not know it's there…looks like everyone else is busy studying the menu as well–

“Ah, Sato-san, check this one,” I pointed at the text. “This one’s a strawberry panna cotta with fresh strawberries and cream–”

Her eyes lit up. “What?! Where’d you see that? I was looking for something like that—thank you!!”