Chapter 1

Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter 1 — “Where the steam hid what the heart couldn’t say”
Tokyo, Japan — Sunday, November 13, 2005 — 7:45 p.m.

The kitchen didn’t speak. But every sound was a confession.
The knife struck the wooden board with steady rhythm.
Haruko’s hands danced between ingredients, fire, and steel.
Steam rose like incense, wrapping the scene in ritual calm.
The broth bubbled, and the aroma filled the house as if it wanted to stay and live there.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Hidden, trembling)
"Watching my father… you can tell cooking is hard work. But I love it!"
(With a tight chest, longing to step forward)
"I want to learn… I want to cook too!"

From the edge of the doorway, Leonardo — a small 10-year-old — watches.
His blue eyes reflect the warm light of the room.
His fingers tremble slightly.
The steam covers him as if trying to protect him… or hide him.

Haruko Okawa (Focused, alert)
"I feel like someone’s behind me…"
(He barely turns his head. He sees him.)

The knife freezes mid-air.
The fire crackles louder.
The silence thickens.

Haruko Okawa (Surprised, with a furrowed brow)
"Why are you hiding, Leo?"
"What are you doing there?"

Leonardo’s heart pounds like a wild drum.
The knot in his throat won’t let him speak.
The heat of the kitchen becomes unbearable.
And then…

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Overwhelmed, voiceless)
He spins on his heels and runs.
His footsteps echo like fading thunder.
The house hears him leave.
The kitchen… feels it.

The knife remains suspended.
The steam continues to rise.
But something is no longer there.

Haruko Okawa (Confused, gaze lost in the smoke)
"Why did he react like that?"

Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter — “Where the oil spoke… and fear cooked in silence”
11:37 p.m.

The house slept. But something inside Leonardo was awake.
The silence was absolute.
Lights off, hallways sunk in shadow.
Only the occasional creak of wood beneath his feet broke the stillness.

Leonardo walked cautiously through the dark hallway, making sure no one saw him.
Each step echoed in his head like a distant drum, as if the house itself listened to his doubts.

Upon reaching his room, he turned the doorknob gently.
Clack.
The door closed with a soft click behind him.
Click.
He turned on his computer.

The blue light from the screen lit up his face, highlighting eyes full of emotion and anxiety.
His pupils reflected recipes, movements, fire, precision.
But also fear.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Whispering, with contained curiosity)
"Let’s see how they do this…"

He searched for cooking videos from around the world.
Japan, France, Italy… each culture had fascinating techniques, precise movements, a calculated dance with ingredients.
The sound of sizzling pans filled the room.
The voices of chefs explaining techniques echoed in the night’s silence.
The images showed how even a simple fried egg could be more complex than it seemed.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Thinking, with furrowed brow)
"Is it really that easy? Or do they just make it look simple?" 

Time passed without Leonardo noticing.
1:12 a.m.
The house remained calm. But he no longer did.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Thinking, with a pounding chest)
"I have to try it…"

He stood up abruptly.
His hands trembled with emotion and anxiety.
He walked to the kitchen, making sure everyone was asleep.
The refrigerator light lit up his face like a secret stage.
He grabbed an egg firmly, as if holding something precious.
The oil began to heat in the pan.
The bubbling sound filled the silence like a promise.

Leonardo cracks the egg…
CRACK.
The yolk bursts.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Frustrated, in a low voice)
"No…"

The disaster was right in front of him.
But he doesn’t give up.

Second attempt.
The oil splashes.
Leonardo instinctively steps back.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Backing away, with a furrowed brow)
"Damn it!"

Third attempt.
The egg sticks to the pan.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Sighing, shoulders tense)
"This makes no sense…"

His heart races.
The steam rises as if watching him.
The kitchen doesn’t reject him. It’s testing him.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Thinking, eyes closed)
"Every time my father cooks, it looks easy. But for me… every step is a struggle."
(He takes a deep breath)
"I keep failing… but if I stop trying, I’ll never learn."

He stays silent for a few seconds.
His fingers grip the next egg tightly.
Not out of anger. Out of resolve.

Fourth attempt.
The egg lands in the pan gently.
The white spreads in perfect circles, unbroken.
The oil bubbles, but this time, Leonardo controls it.
The yolk stays intact.
Absolute silence.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Deep breath, eyes shining)
"...I did it."

His first perfect fried egg.
The kitchen watches in silence.
The steam rises as if recognizing him.
The pan is no longer an enemy. It’s an ally.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Looking at his creation in awe)
"Maybe… maybe I’m not as far from my father as I thought."

Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter 6 — “Where the steam didn’t hide the pride”
Tokyo, Japan — Tuesday, February 20, 2011 — 12:20 p.m.

The kitchen was alive. Not because of noise, but because of what was cooking in silence.
The sound of knives hitting the board echoed like a metronome of discipline.
Tack, tack.
Ingredients were being cut with surgical precision.
The dim light over the worktable cast soft shadows over utensils aligned like weapons.

Leonardo moved with stealth, his breathing controlled, his gaze firm.
Every afternoon, like a warrior in training, he returned to the kitchen.
He turned on the lamp, took a breath, and began his personal battle.

Leonardo Okawa Takahashi (Thinking, soul tense)
"This afternoon… this afternoon I have to do better."

Fssss.
The stove crackled as if recognizing his determination.
Clack.
The clash of utensils echoed like memories of past battles.
Afternoons became his testing ground.

The first burn came when boiling oil touched his skin.

Leonardo (Backing away, in pain)
"Ah…"

The first cut appeared when the knife slipped.

Leonardo (Frustrated, gritting his teeth)
"Damn it…"

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter  — “Where the steam didn’t hide the pride”
Tokyo, Japan — Tuesday, February 20, 2011 — 12:20 p.m.

But he never stopped.
Second, third, fourth…
The wounds weren’t failures. They were marks of his learning.

Leonardo (Looking at his hands, with determination)
"Every mistake is one step closer to perfection."

Pain became part of his training.
The scars on his arms began to tell his story.
Each afternoon, a new recipe. Each night, a new battle.
Failed attempts piled up, but his technique evolved.
Frustration was constant, but his obsession kept him steady.

Leonardo (Thinking, in front of a failed creation)
"If I don’t give up, someday I’ll make something worthy of respect."

 The ultimate test: Pasta from scratch — 12:20 p.m., that same day

Leonardo (Thinking, with resolve)
"It’s time to face a real challenge."

He sifted flour onto the table, forming a perfect volcano.
He added fresh eggs to the center, mixing them slowly.
His hands sank into the mixture, feeling the resistance of raw dough.
The rolling pin struck the surface with steady rhythm.
The texture softened with each precise movement.

Leonardo (Breathing deeply, with composure)
"This time, nothing will go wrong."

He prepared the filling with absolute precision.
Cream cheese, spices, roasted peppers crushed into a velvety texture.
A balance of flavors that could be unforgettable.

Leonardo (Tasting with the tip of his tongue, surprised)
"This… this tastes amazing."

He formed the ravioli.
Each piece crafted with meticulous accuracy.
The edges sealed firmly, perfectly aligned on the table.
Water bubbled in the pot.
The ravioli entered the boiling water.
Leonardo’s gaze was fixed, determined.

Leonardo (Thinking, with a racing heart)
"Will I get it right?"

A few eternal seconds of waiting.
He removed the ravioli with surgical precision.
Perfect texture. Impeccable cooking.
He prepared the pepper sauce: olive oil, garlic, peppers cooked down to a smooth cream.
A touch of grated parmesan and fresh parsley for the final plating.

Leonardo (Thinking, in disbelief)
"Is this really mine?"

Silence.
Leonardo stared at the plate on the table, his creation after years of effort.

Leonardo (Breathing deeply, with restrained emotion)
"This… this is my first great triumph."

He picked up the fork. He tasted it.
The perfect balance between texture and flavor.
He smiled for the first time in a long while.
He wasn’t just cooking anymore. He was creating.
He had stopped being a spectator… and started building his own legacy.

 Scene after the triumph — 12:45 p.m.

The kitchen was bathed in the soft light of midday.
The aroma of pepper sauce still lingered in the air.
Leonardo held the fork with the last bite of ravioli on his plate.

A faint sound broke the silence.
A creak in the floor. A barely audible whisper.

Haruko Okawa (From the doorway, with a low voice and steady gaze)
"So it wasn’t just one afternoon…"

Leonardo froze.
He slowly turned his head… and there they were.
His father Haruko and his mother Aiko, standing at the entrance of the kitchen.
Haruko’s eyes reflected surprise, pride, and a firm look of recognition.
Aiko smiled softly, but in her eyes… there was something else. A flicker of emotion she hadn’t meant to show.

Haruko Okawa (Crossing his arms, with a grave tone)
"We’ve been watching you for a while."
"Every afternoon, every attempt, every frustration."

Leonardo couldn’t move.
The air felt heavier. His breathing deeper.
He never imagined they had been watching all this time.

Haruko Okawa (Stepping forward, with a calm voice)
"You haven’t slept. You haven’t rested. You’ve failed so many times I’ve lost count."
"But you never stopped."

Haruko Okawa (Looking at him intensely)
"Now tell me… how different do you feel from that boy who used to just watch from the doorway?"

Leonardo still held the fork. His fingers trembled slightly. His gaze was fixed on the plate, but his thoughts were on every afternoon. Every wound. Every failed attempt.

Aiko stepped forward. Her voice was soft, but firm. Her presence filled the kitchen with a different warmth.

Aiko Takahashi (Extending her hand tenderly)
"Let me try it, sweetheart."

Leonardo froze for a moment. Then, carefully, he cut a small piece of ravioli and placed it on a plate in front of her. Aiko took it gently, looked at it for a moment… and tasted it.

Silence became absolute.
She chewed slowly… her eyes opened slightly.
Her expression shifted from curiosity to surprise.
The flavor enveloped her: the perfect balance between the creaminess of the cheese and the intensity of the pepper sauce.

Aiko Takahashi (Exhaling, savoring the finish)
"Leonardo…"
The pause felt eternal to him.
"This is…"
Total silence.
"…better than your father’s."

Leonardo felt as if the world had stopped.
Haruko furrowed his brow slightly, incredulous. He crossed his arms, watching her closely.

Haruko Okawa (With a slow voice)
"Better…?"

Aiko Takahashi (Smiling softly)
"Better."

Haruko stared at the plate for a few seconds… and without saying a word, picked up the fork. He tasted a portion. His eyes narrowed, analyzing the flavor with precision… and then his expression changed. A faint glimmer of approval crossed his serious face.

Haruko Okawa (Exhaling slowly)
"Hmph…"
The atmosphere was heavy. Tense.
"You’ve improved."

Leonardo couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He had spent years perfecting his technique in secret. And now, in front of him, his parents recognized his skill. Not with applause. Not with exaggerated praise. But with something deeper: respect.

(Haruko calmly places the fork on the table. He does it slowly, as if needing one more second to process what he just tasted.)

Haruko
"Well… you finally cook like a real chef."

Leonardo doesn’t respond. He just looks at him. He knows exactly what that phrase means coming from his father.

This moment marks the beginning of something new. He’s no longer the boy who stood silently at the doorway. Now, his talent is on the table. Literally.

Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter — “Where the fire didn’t ask for permission”
Tokyo, Japan — Year 2012 — 8:00 a.m.

(Leonardo aligns his ingredients with precision. Morning light pours through the window. On the television, “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” by KISS plays. The volume isn’t loud, but just enough to fill the space with energy.)

Leonardo (Thinking as he arranges the fish)
"It’s no longer just about cooking. Now it’s about doing something no one expects."

The days of hidden practice are behind him. Now his kitchen has a name. It has respect. Every night is a challenge. Every dish, an experience. Every combination, a gamble.

 Michelin Creation: Hake fillet in chlorophyll green sauce with cockles from the estuary

The hake is ready. Leonardo touches it with the tips of his fingers. Its texture is firm, fresh.

Leonardo (Thinking)
"This has to come out perfect. There’s no room for error."

 Step 1: Green Sauce
He sautés garlic and Rioja chili in olive oil. The aroma rises, enveloping.

Leonardo (Listening to the sizzling)
"It’s started."

He adds white wine. The bubbling fills the kitchen. The alcohol evaporates. The flavor remains.

Leonardo (Murmuring)
"No rush. Let it concentrate."

He incorporates flour. Mixes. Adds monkfish fumet. The sauce gains body.

Leonardo (Tasting with a spoon)
"It’s strong. Saffron, now."

The golden threads dissolve. He strains the sauce carefully. No crushed garlic.

Leonardo (Looking at the result)
"Perfect."

 Step 2: Parsley Chlorophyll
He blanches the parsley. Quickly chills it. Blends it with water. Strains.

Leonardo (Under the light)
"This green… this green is insane."

Cockles from the Estuary
Into the steam oven at 100°C for one minute. He removes the shells with a paring knife. The meat remains intact.

Leonardo (While plating)
"Each one has to contribute. No visual filler."

Potato Purée
He boils the potatoes. Strains them. Heats milk and butter. Adds the potato. Emulsifies with oil.

Leonardo (Murmuring)
"It should feel like a cloud."

The Masterpiece
(He takes a deep breath. Places the hake fillet in the center. The crispy skin shines under the light. He pours the green sauce around it. Precise. Clean. The cockles rest like jewels. The purée, like a cloud.)

Silence. Leonardo observes the plate. No doubt. It’s his. And it’s ready.

Leonardo (Looking at his creation)
"This could be on a Michelin menu."

He presents the dish to his parents. Aiko looks at it with curiosity.

Aiko
"Can I try?"

Leonardo nods. She takes a bite. Chews slowly. Her eyes widen.

Aiko (Surprised)
"Leonardo… this is amazing."
"It’s better than anything I’ve ever tasted."

Haruko furrows his brow. Not out of annoyance. Out of surprise.

Haruko
"Better or just different?"

Aiko (Smiling, confident)
"Better."

Haruko picks up the fork. Tastes. Analyzes. Silence. Then…

Haruko (Exhaling)
"Hmph…"
(He places the fork on the table calmly.)
"Now you cook like a real chef."

Leonardo says nothing. But inside, something shifts. He’s no longer the boy who watched from the doorway. Now, his cooking speaks for him.

Leonardo (Thinking, as he looks at the empty plate)
"And this… this is just the beginning."

Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter — “The Value of Recognition”
Tokyo, Japan — Wednesday, February 25, 2012 — 9:30 a.m.

Winter sunlight filters through the windows of the house. The steam from the tea still floats in the air. Haruko, as every morning, is already up. He walks with his usual calm, but there’s something different in his silence. Leonardo notices. He feels it.

Leonardo (Thinking as he watches him from the table)
"He hasn’t said a single word since last night. Not about the dish. Not about me."

Haruko puts on his coat. Doesn’t look back. Doesn’t explain. He just says:

Haruko
"Let’s go."

Leonardo (Frowning)
"Where?"

But his father is already opening the door. He doesn’t answer. He just walks.

Leonardo follows. Intrigued. The air in Tokyo is crisp, the streets alive. They walk down Omotesandō Avenue, where the shop windows gleam with elegance. They cross Aoyama-dori, past cafés that smell of fresh bread and stores still lifting their metal shutters. The city’s noise doesn’t interrupt the silence between them.

And then they arrive.

Leonardo stops in front of the storefront. His eyes widen. His heart skips a beat. In front of him: a shop specialized in professional kitchen attire and tools. In the window, chef coats hung with pride. Elite knives in lit display cases. Pants, shoes, precision utensils. Everything shines. Everything speaks of respect.

Leonardo (Thinking, throat tight)
"Are we here for me…?"

Haruko walks in without hesitation. Leonardo follows, his steps light, almost uncertain. The shop owner greets them with a slight bow. His voice is firm, but respectful.

Shop Owner
"Welcome. How can I help you?"

Haruko (Without hesitation, with a clear tone)
"He needs a uniform. A real one."

Leonardo stands still. The air catches in his chest. He hasn’t heard a “congratulations.” He hasn’t heard “I’m proud of you.” But this… this says everything.

Leonardo (Thinking, eyes locked on his father)
"He’s giving me a chef’s uniform… but not just any. An elite one."

The owner turns to him. Analyzes him with an expert gaze.

Shop Owner
"Come with me. Let’s take your measurements."

Leonardo steps onto the platform. The specialist begins measuring. Exact height. Shoulders. Sleeve length. Every adjustment is meticulous. The owner nods, takes notes. Then he pauses.

Shop Owner
"The design will be custom. You decide how it looks."

Leonardo takes a deep breath. His voice comes out firm, without trembling.

Leonardo
"Black chef coat. Gold metal buttons. I want each button engraved with a dragon..."

The owner smiles faintly. Nods.

Shop Owner
"Good choice. And the details?"

Leonardo
"The edges… deep blue."

Haruko lifts his gaze. Says nothing. But he hears him. He sees him.

Specialist
"Black pants, durable. For long shifts. Professional black shoes, with anti-slip soles and solid support."

The owner keeps writing. Doesn’t miss a beat.

Shop Owner
"Something for the head?"

Leonardo thinks. Then speaks with certainty.

Leonardo
"A blue headband. Good fabric. For the sweat…"

Haruko nods slightly. Leonardo remembers when his father used to cook with one just like it. But now… it’s his turn.

The specialist guides him to the knife section. The display case is lit. Each blade gleams as if it were breathing.

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter — “First Flame”
Tokyo, Japan — Wednesday, February 25, 2012 — 12:30 p.m.

Specialist
"These will be your most important tools. Choose carefully."

Leonardo scans each piece. And then he sees them.
Knives of the highest quality. Blades etched with raindrop patterns. The cold metal touches his skin.

Leonardo (Thinking, fingers resting on the handle)
"These are mine."

He picks up each knife. Feels the weight. The balance. The strength. They’re his. They are him.

Leonardo (Clenching his fists, with a barely visible smile)
"Now I’m ready."

Haruko watches him silently. Aiko, his mother, stands behind. She smiles faintly. Says nothing. She doesn’t need to.

The uniform, the knives, the blue headband. They’re not accessories. They’re proof. They’re voice. They’re history.

Leonardo (Thinking as he holds the freshly made chef coat)
"This is the beginning."

The car ride feels heavy, solemn. The sky over Minato-ku is clear, but inside the vehicle, silence weighs more than words.

Leonardo sits in the back seat, the black chef coat folded neatly in his hands. The golden buttons catch the soft daylight, and the dragon engraving seems to move with every vibration of the car.

Aiko hasn’t spoken. She just watches, occasionally glancing at the deep blue trim of the fabric. Haruko keeps his eyes on the road. His face is the same as always, but Leonardo knows this day isn’t like the others.

Leonardo (Thoughtful)
"They haven’t said a word since we left the store… but they don’t need to."

Silence is their answer. And that silence… is the recognition he’s waited for for years.

Tokyo’s streets blur past. They cross Aoyama-dori, then Omotesandō. The buildings grow taller, more solemn. Finally, the car stops.

In front of them: the Akademia Kensei of Culinary Arts. The doors are massive, carved from dark wood with golden details. The walls blend traditional Japanese architecture with modern steel and glass lines. It’s a temple. A battlefield. A place where ingredients become legacy.

Leonardo (Exhaling deeply)
"Some of the best chefs in the world have trained here. Now it’s my turn."

Aiko and Haruko walk toward the reception. Leonardo follows, feeling his steps heavier than usual. Finally, they enter the director’s office.

 Meeting with Director Ryujin Takeda

The office is filled with shelves of culinary books, trophies, plaques of recognition. At the center, seated with imposing posture, is him.

Ryujin Takeda (Calm)
"Haruko. Aiko. I wasn’t expecting you here."

His eyes settle on Leonardo. He studies him for a few seconds, expressionless.

Ryujin Takeda (Evaluative)
"This is the young candidate?"

Haruko (Direct)
"I want to enroll him in the academy."

The tension settles like steam in a closed kitchen. Ryujin sets down the document, folds his hands over the desk.

Ryujin Takeda (Grave)
"Is he ready?"

Leonardo (Firm)
"I am."

Ryujin raises an eyebrow. Something in his gaze shifts. Not approval. Interest.

Ryujin Takeda (Decisive)
"He’ll report in one week to begin training. But first, let me introduce you to your instructors."

The side door opens. Five figures step into the room. Their steps are confident. Their gazes distinct. Their chef coats, a declaration of style and specialty.

Shiro Fujimura (Challenging)
"So this is the new student, huh? Let’s see if he can hold a knife properly."

Leonardo (Respectful)
"My cuts are precise."

Shiro smiles faintly. Challenge accepted.

Ayaka Takashi (Curious)
"I hope you’re not stuck in just one culture. Here, you’ll learn dishes from all over the world."

Leonardo (Confident)
"I’m ready to learn everything."

Ayaka nods in approval.

Kaiji Matsuda (Analytical)
"Cooking isn’t just art. It’s science. Prepare to challenge what you think you know." ⚗️

Leonardo (Intrigued)
"I’m ready to break my limits."

Kaiji watches him with interest.

Jun Sakuraba (Calm)
"Patience will be your greatest weapon. It’s not just about cooking, but understanding the ingredients."

Leonardo (Respectful)
"Japanese cuisine was my first world. I’ll perfect it."

Jun smiles faintly, satisfied with the answer.

Reiko Himura (Serene)
"Desserts are more than sweets. They’re emotions plated. I hope you can understand that."

Leonardo (With conviction)
"I don’t just want to make food. I want people to feel something."

Reiko crosses her arms, satisfied with the response.

Each instructor watches the young man. They will be the ones to shape him. To challenge him. To push him to the edge.

Ryujin Takeda (Resolute)
"In one week, you begin. This academy isn’t just education… it’s a battlefield. Prepare yourself."

Leonardo (Thinking as he leaves the office)
"There’s no turning back. This is the real beginning."

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter — “She was there”
Tokyo, Japan — Wednesday, February 25, 2012 — 1:05 p.m.

The air in the halls of Akademia Kensei is quiet, almost solemn. Leonardo walks toward the exit with his parents. The meeting with the director is over. The future is set. But just before crossing the final door… something shifts.

Leonardo (Surprised)
"Who… is she?"

His gaze, almost instinctively, slides toward a corner of the hallway. And there she is. A figure that wasn’t there before. A presence that doesn’t announce itself, but can’t be ignored.

️ First Impression of Emma

Emma doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. But she’s there. Pale skin, contrasting with the soft hallway light. Orange hair, rebellious, swaying slightly with the breeze. Brown eyes with hints of coffee, deep, fixed on him. No curiosity. No surprise. Something else. Something Leonardo can’t decipher.

Leonardo (Thinking, unsettled)
"Is she a student here? Why is she looking at me like that?"

The air between them shifts. No words. No gestures. Just a moment. A silent recognition. But just as Leonardo tries to understand what it means…

Haruko (Neutral)
"Leonardo, let’s go."

Leonardo turns his head toward the exit. One second more… and Emma is no longer in sight.

The scene changes. Leonardo leaves with his parents, unaware that someone was watching him from the shadows.

Emma Shirosawa (Still)
"Who are you…?"

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter  — “She was there”
Tokyo, Japan — Wednesday, February 25, 2012 — 1:05 p.m.

Emma is still there, hidden in the silent hallway. Arms crossed. Back against the cold wall. The air is light, but for her, everything seems to pause for a moment.

 Emma Shirosawa
Pale skin, lit by the soft glow of the hallway. Orange hair, slightly messy, catching the last shimmer of daylight. Brown eyes with hints of coffee—warm, but full of thoughts she never speaks aloud.

But beyond her appearance, there’s something else. A story she carries. Silent. Discreet. A weight few understand.

Emma (sighing)
"Will he be just another one?"

At the academy, Emma has never been the best. Never been recognized. Her clumsiness has been her curse. Every mistake, every stumble, every failure… enough for others to point, to exclude, to belittle.

Emma (crossing her arms)
"Always the same. Always the same looks."

The contempt is never direct. But she feels it. In the whispers. In the gestures. In the quiet laughs when she messes up again. She’s learned to endure it. To pretend it doesn’t matter. To smile when she’d rather be anywhere else.

But today… someone new has appeared. A student who’s never walked these halls before. A young man with a cold gaze, an imposing presence, calculated steps. Someone who doesn’t seem affected by anything or anyone.

Emma (murmuring as she runs her hand through her hair)
"I hope he’s not like them…"

She’s seen too many arrogant students come and go. Too many egos. Too many who think cooking is just technique and pride. Too many who never look beyond themselves.

Emma (closing her eyes for a moment)
"Please… don’t be like them."

When she opens them, the door is still closed. Leonardo is no longer in sight. But his image remains in her mind.

Emma (murmuring with a small smile)
"I guess I’ll find out soon enough."

Leonardo is already outside the academy, walking with his parents. But something inside him doesn’t feel quite right. His breathing follows the calm rhythm of the afternoon, but in his mind, there’s a persistent echo.

Leonardo (thinking as he looks down at the ground)
"Who was… she?"

 Leonardo Okawa Takahashi
Focus is his essence. Discipline, absolute. Since he began his journey in the kitchen, nothing has pulled him off course. Emotions aren’t a distraction. They never have been. But now… there’s an image that won’t fade.

Emma. Pale skin. Orange hair like fire. Brown eyes with coffee tones, watching him with something he couldn’t decipher.

Leonardo (thinking as he lifts his gaze to the road)
"It wasn’t surprise. It wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t… ordinary interest."

Emma didn’t react like the others. No words. No gestures. Just a presence that felt stronger than it should have.

Leonardo (murmuring to himself)
"Was she a student? An advanced trainee? Why was she there?"

But what unsettles him most isn’t who she is… it’s why that moment affected him. He’s never allowed distractions. Never let anything external break his focus. But now, without logical explanation, that image is etched in his mind.

Leonardo (thinking with mild frustration)
"This isn’t relevant. It doesn’t make sense."

But even as he tries to convince himself it doesn’t matter… he knows he’ll see her again. That his path at the academy will cross hers once more.

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter  — “Thinking about her wasn’t on the menu”
Tokyo, Japan — Wednesday, February 25, 2012 — 8:47 p.m.

The city stretches out like a tapestry of flickering lights. From the back seat of the car, Leonardo watches the nighttime landscape without really seeing it. The black chef coat rests in his hands, still folded, the golden buttons glowing under the soft interior light. The engraved dragon seems to move with every vibration of the engine.

Leonardo (thoughtful)
"Who was she…?"

Aiko says something about the director. Haruko replies with a comment about the instructors. But Leonardo barely hears them. His mind is trapped in a corner of the hallway, in a figure that shouldn’t matter.

Pale skin. Vibrant orange hair. Brown eyes. A gaze that wasn’t curious, nor indifferent… it was something else.

Leonardo (frowning, taking a deep breath)
"It’s not relevant."

The car arrives home. Leonardo enters, gestures a goodbye, and heads straight to his room. But five minutes later, he’s already in the kitchen, standing in front of the fridge.

Leonardo (murmuring as he opens the door)
"Maybe if I eat something, this will go away."

He grabs a box of rice crackers and a jar of walnut cream. He serves one, spreads the cream, takes a bite. Chews slowly, eyes fixed on the table.

Leonardo (sighing)
"It’s not like it really affected me."

But there she is. Emma. Again. Not as an obsession, but as a question without an answer. As an echo that won’t leave.

Leonardo (taking another cracker)
"Forget it. It’s nothing."

But then he freezes. Chews slowly. Looks at the ceiling. Tilts his head back in the chair, wearing a confused expression.

Leonardo (thinking, frustrated)
"Why does not understanding this bother me?"

He grabs another cracker, spreads more cream, takes an exaggerated bite, and drops his head onto the table.

Leonardo (murmuring with his mouth full)
"This makes no sense."

Defeated by a thought he didn’t ask for, Leonardo switches tactics. He grabs his phone, unlocks it, and opens a video of Gordon Ramsay yelling in a kitchen.

Leonardo (thinking as he adjusts the volume)
"This will keep me busy."

The video begins. Ramsay enters with his lethal stare. The kitchen is a disaster. Chefs in panic. And then, the first explosion:

Gordon Ramsay (in the video)
"WHAT IS THIS?! A GARBAGE OMELET?! IT’S DISGUSTING!"

Leonardo watches intently. The yelling, the chaos, the pressure. Perfect. This is intensity. This is focus. This is what he needs.

Leonardo (thinking)
"No useless thoughts. Just cooking. Just discipline. Just technique."

But then the disaster strikes. While Ramsay humiliates a chef, while the flames reflect the chaos…

Leonardo (freezes)
"…"

Emma. Orange hair. Brown eyes. Soft light on her pale skin.

Leonardo (frowning, annoyed with himself)
"Again?!"

He tries to ignore it. Looks back at the video.

Gordon Ramsay (in the video)
"WHO MADE THIS HORRIBLE DISH?! IT TASTES LIKE A PIECE OF CARDBOARD!"

But Leonardo is no longer there. The yelling fades. Frustration takes over.

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter  — “The beginning didn’t ask for permission”
Tokyo, Japan — Thursday, February 26, 2012 — 6:03 a.m.

The city is still yawning. The sky is tinted pale blue, and the morning light cuts through the window with surgical precision. It’s not aggressive. Not imposing. It’s exact. Just like every movement Leonardo has practiced until now.

But before the day begins, before the uniform touches his skin… there was a night. A night when Leonardo couldn’t take it anymore.

Leonardo (from the depths, with absolute frustration)
"Still going?!"

The camera cuts abruptly. Leonardo stands, hands on his head, brow furrowed, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and pure fury. The rice cracker in his hand falls onto the table with unnecessary drama.

Leonardo (with the most desperate voice he’s ever used)
"Let me live!"

The narrator falls silent. For the first time, he feels true terror. He’s never been questioned. Never been confronted.

Narrator (uncomfortable)
"Well… I suppose…"

Leonardo raises a hand as if about to throw something against the wall.

Leonardo (even more furious)
"Don’t suppose anything!"

And then, as if the universe understands there’s no more room for distractions, the week ends. And the real challenge begins.

 The Uniform of the Beginning

In front of him, laid out perfectly on the table, is the uniform that will mark his presence at the academy. Impeccable black chef coat. Deep blue trim, reflecting authority and elegance. Gold metal buttons, each engraved with a dragon as a symbol of greatness. Black pants, tailored for precision. Black shoes, polished to perfection.

Narrator (solemnly)
"Time has passed. The days have flowed, but this morning is different. This morning marks the true beginning of his path."

Leonardo stands before the uniform. No rush. No distraction. His fingers trace the edge of the coat, feeling the fabric, the weight of the material, the presence of something that represents more than just clothing.

Leonardo (thinking as he fastens the first button)
"I hope there won’t be any setbacks."

Each golden button is fastened with precision, catching the light with an elegant gleam. The dragon’s image is clear, strong, as if each one carries the same essence Leonardo wants to embody at the academy.

Narrator (respectfully)
"The golden buttons. Not just decoration. A symbol of discipline, legacy, strength."

Leonardo fastens the last button, exhales calmly, and finally adjusts the coat over his shoulders. The fabric falls perfectly. Not a single wrinkle out of place. He leans slightly to adjust the pants, ensuring the uniform is flawless down to the last detail.

His hands work with the same precision he uses to handle a knife in the kitchen.

Leonardo (thinking as he looks at himself in the mirror)
"Every movement, every decision, every detail… is part of the technique."

But then, without apparent reason, he lifts his gaze. His expression is serious, calculating. He’s not looking at the ceiling. Not at the light. At something else.

Narrator (uncomfortable)
"…Not again."

Leonardo says nothing. He just stares. No anger. No frustration. Just the silent recognition that, six days later, he still remembers what happened.

Narrator (trying to regain control)
"Fine… I suppose we’ll continue as if this isn’t happening again."

Leonardo lowers his gaze, ensures every fold of the uniform is perfect, and finally heads toward the door. The air in the room has changed. The tension still lingers.

Narrator (cautiously)
"This young man… this protagonist who should be focused solely on cooking… has seen me again."

The sun hasn’t reached its peak. Morning light cuts through the window with precision, reflecting off the golden buttons of Leonardo’s coat. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t get distracted. His movements are calculated. His gaze, sharp.

Narrator (solemnly)
"In this moment, everything is in place. His uniform is impeccable. His determination, unshakable. And what’s about to happen will mark the beginning of something no one will be able to ignore."

Leonardo picks up the keys to the black McLaren from the table with natural elegance. The sound of metal echoes softly.

Leonardo (thinking as he turns them in his hand)
"There’s no turning back."

He walks toward the front door. His parents wait with confident gazes. No emotional speeches. No long farewells. Just silent recognition between them.

Haruko (firmly)
"Do it well."

Leonardo nods slightly. No need for more words. He crosses the threshold of his home with absolute calm.

 Knife to Shin no Ma de
Chapter  — “The roar that woke everyone”
Tokyo, Japan — Saturday, February 28, 2012 — 6:58 a.m.

The Okawa Takahashi mansion is bathed in golden morning light. The garden is perfectly trimmed, the fountains still bubbling with crystal-clear water, and the air smells of fresh jasmine. The young maids are already lined up at the main entrance, dressed in pristine navy blue and white uniforms, bows neatly tied, hands clasped in front of them. The silence is elegant. The anticipation, inevitable.

Leonardo enters the scene. His black chef coat gleams under the rising sun. The deep blue trim reflects authority. The golden buttons, each engraved with a dragon, seem to pulse with life. His expression is calm, but his eyes… his eyes are already on the road.

Maid 1 (murmuring with a nervous smile)
"Did you see that smile? That’s not someone who’s going to drive slowly…"

Maid 2 (laughing quietly)
"Slowly? He took driving lessons two weeks ago! We thought he’d leave like a gentleman!"

Maid 3 (eyes wide)
"Yeah, right. A gentleman in a McLaren 765… and that roar!"

Leonardo gets into the sports car. Fastens his seatbelt. Looks ahead. And then…

The roar of the engine breaks the silence.

The McLaren awakens with a ferocious sound, as if the asphalt itself trembles. The maids flinch, some step back, others cover their mouths, but all of them smile. There’s no doubt now: the young master is not leaving quietly.

Maid 4 (grabbing the arm of another)
"Did you hear that roar?! That car doesn’t breathe—it screams!"

Maid 1 (nervously laughing)
"And that was just after driving lessons! Imagine when he graduates!"

Leonardo hits the accelerator. The car skids out of the mansion, leaving behind a cloud of dust and an echo of power that fades among the garden trees. The engine’s roar blends with the screech of tires on pavement.

 Camera cut: Leonardo at the wheel.

He pulls the handbrake. Shifts into first gear. Maneuvers with surgical precision. Releases the handbrake. Accelerates. The McLaren responds like it’s part of him. Two seconds later, he shifts into second gear. The scenery begins to blur.

Maid 2 (covering her mouth, half laughing, half shocked)
"Oh my god! He shot out like the end of the world was chasing him!"

Maid 3 (laughing nervously)
"And we thought he’d leave calmly! That boy isn’t going to the academy—he’s going to conquer it!"

From the second-floor balcony, his parents watch the scene.

Haruko Okawa (smiling proudly, arms crossed)
"Well done, son. That’s how you take control. With conviction."

Aiko Takahashi (arms crossed, brow furrowed, lips pressed tight)
"He drives just as crazy as you! Why did you teach him that?! Why can’t he leave like a normal person?!"

Haruko (still smiling, voice calm)
"Because normal doesn’t suit him. And you know it."

Aiko (snorting, annoyed but resigned)
"One day he’s going to wreck that car… or a wall. And you’ll be the one applauding him."

Haruko (gazing at the horizon, voice low)
"If he breaks something… let it be the limit."

The McLaren disappears around the curve of the road. The sound of the engine still echoes in the distance. The maids continue chatting through nervous laughter. Some glance at each other as if they’ve just witnessed a scene straight out of an action anime.

Maid 1 (with a proud smile)
"Our young master… he’s not the same anymore."

Maid 4 (murmuring as she watches the dust in the air)
"I remember when Mr. Haruko used to drive like that…"