Cooking Lesson

Seiji sat at his desk, but he wasn't coding — he was eating his lunch. A carefully prepared bento box — as usual.

In the meantime, in his mind he was going over the potential witnesses.

'The fact that Ken hadn't reported anything is a relief. But even despite acknowledging that, it still leaving me with a nagging question - Who else knew?'

'Rika had been there - she'd known enough.'

He recalled her face at the end of the day, the way she had looked at them as they left the scene.

'She hadn't seemed like she'd head straight to the police... but maybe? Or had someone else she know gotten involved?'

He took a sip from his coffee cup,

"I need more information," Seiji muttered to himself. "The police didn't just stumble on the hideout; they had been given a lead. And I need to figure out who gave it to them."

He wasn't going to panic like Hideaki.

That wasn't his style.

His mind was already turning over possible moves, ways to get closer to the mystery.

Suddenly his phone vibrated angrily.

Hideaki: "I DON'T WANT TO END UP IN JAIL AGAIN!!!!!!! HELP MEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ᗒᗩᗕ)"

Seiji sighed heavily.

'I need to calm him down before he'll do something reckless in my apartment... or to himself...'

Typing out a measured response, Seiji sent another message:
"Hideaki, stay calm. If you panic, you'll only make things worse. We need to assess the situation. The police don't know it's you yet. They're speculating."

Hideaki meanwhile was sitting with his knees under his chin, shaking.

As he received Seiji's message, he quickly typed back:
"But what if they will eventually get to it?? What if they will discover that it was me who killed her!?"

Seiji stared at Hideaki's latest message, the panic quickly giving way to Hideaki's usual immature bravado.

His finger hovered over the keyboard before he finally responded:

"Calm down. Just stay focused. No one has discovered it was you. And if eventually they would, I'll handle it."

After sending the message, Seiji let out another heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair, glancing up at the ceiling.

'Better safe than sorry,'

He thought, already calculating his next move.

Meanwhile, Hideaki practically swinged anxiously from one side to another on his butt, hands were shaking as he imagined the worst-case scenarios involving him and police.

The message notification sound startled him, and with trembling hands, he picked up his phone to read Seiji's message.

Recalling how they had eluded the police not so long ago, he felt a slight sense of relief.
However, a thought crossed his mind,

'But police will find who killed her from fingerprints. They have my criminal record on file! So it's only a matter of time until they come for me! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUUUCK!!!!!!'

Panic overwhelmed him, however, one thought crossed his mind

'But then... They still don't know where I am...'

"Wait a second... that's it!"

He yelled all excited from his new discovery

"They have no idea where the I am!!! Hehehehe!!" he laughed with a hint of desperation.

A sinister smile slowly formed on his face as he became convinced of his safety "I've won! Hehehe!!"

Rising from the couch, Hideaki tossed his phone onto the seat and fixated his gaze upon the TV screen where the news were still broadcasting.
His eyes filled with malice. He began to chuckle under his breath before loudly proclaiming his triumph to the television, relishing in his victory

"I FUCKING WON, YOU IDIOTS! YOU WON'T CATCH ME!! EVER!!! I WILL BE FREE FOREVER, AND WITH THAT, I CAN COMMIT EVEN MORE MURDERS!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!" he began to start laughing like a crazy man, who got his plan all worked.

Hideaki firmly started to believe that as long as he lived with Seiji, no one and nothing could ever apprehend him.

He leaned back on the couch and took his phone, replying back to Seiji

"Yeah, you're right... None of these stupid donut-eating idiots will catch me! NEVER! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Checking his phone again, Seiji saw Hideaki's reply,

Another sigh escaped him. 'He'll never grow up...'

Shaking off the thought, he refocused his attention on his work.

[Later]

Seiji leaned back in his chair, scrolling through random websites during a brief break from work.

'In two weeks is nomikai... I so don't want to go there... But if I'll miss it the boss will be angry... Fuck... Better not risk...'

His eyes lazily skimmed over an advertisement for kitchen knives, not paying much attention at first. But then, a thought hit him, one that caused him to pause mid-scroll.

'Hideaki said he'd kill me with his knife... I still haven't given it back to him...'

His expression remained neutral, but his mind began to churn.

'I kept it away from him for a reason. But if I can actually get through to him, guide him on the right path... would he even need the knife anymore? He won't have any reason to be violent. At that point, the only thing it'd be good for is... cooking?'

The thought made Seiji frown slightly as a realization dawned on him.

'Cooking? Wait...'

His fingers stopped moving on the trackpad.

'He doesn't know how to cook. I've been so caught up with managing his behavior that I forgot the basic stuff. What if he tries to use the stove and sets the whole place on fire?'

Seiji blinked, the seriousness of the situation growing in his mind.

'This idiot could burn down the apartment, maybe the whole building, just because I didn't teach him how to make something as simple as rice. And I remember what he did last time he tried cook by himself. If that happens...'

His gaze shifted back to the kitchen knife advertisement.

'I'll need to teach him how to use it. His only usage of knife was probably only for cutting people's flesh.'

The thought of a knife-wielding, clueless Hideaki wandering the kitchen without him was enough to make Seiji stand up from his desk, already calculating how to rearrange his day.

He set his focus on the work before him, determined to leave early.

'I need to finish up quickly. No time to waste. I've got to make sure that fool doesn't burn the apartment down in the future - or worse, himself.'

[Back at the Apartment]

It was already evening.

Seiji was determined to teach Hideaki cook.

He walked into the living room to find Hideaki acting suspiciously, staring blankly at the TV, which was turned off.

'Huh? Why is he sitting like that? And staring at the blank screen?'

The atmosphere in the room felt tense, and Seiji, ever the observer, noticed something was off.

"Uh... you know you have to turn on the TV to watch it, right?" Seiji asked, raising an eyebrow at Hideaki's strange behavior.

"I know!" Hideaki replied a little too quickly.

Seiji studied him for a moment. "Then why haven't you?"

"Because... I... uh... LIKE IT BEING OFF AND ALL BLACK!" Hideaki blurted out, clearly flustered.

Seiji stared at him, puzzled, but decided not to press further. It wasn't worth the effort. "Right. Whatever you say." He turned toward the kitchen, heading to unpack the groceries.

Before he could take more than a few steps, Hideaki suddenly jumped up, grabbing the grocery bag from Seiji's hand. He began emptying its contents onto the counter in a chaotic rush, tossing items around without much care.

Seiji watched, eyebrows raised. 'What the hell is going on?'  he thought, perplexed by Hideaki's behavior. 'This guy never takes care of the groceries unless I'll ask him to.'

Once the bag was empty, Hideaki immediately turned to Seiji, pushing him toward his bedroom. "Go change after work! Take your t-time! Now, just gogogogogo!!!" he shouted, barely giving Seiji a chance to react.

"What? What are you doing? Stop it, Hideaki!" Seiji protested, his usual calm faltering as Hideaki shoved him toward his room.

But Hideaki was relentless, pushing Seiji inside and shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. Seiji stood there, staring at the closed door, his irritation mounting. 'What's gotten into him??'

He started unbuttoning his shirt, but something caught his attention - the faint sound of the TV turning on from the living room. Seiji paused, narrowing his eyes.

'What's happening out there?'

He cracked the door open, peeking through.

There he saw Hideaki, sitting on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen where, from what it looked like, a slice of life - romance anime was broadcasted.

Seiji observed him for a moment, noting the intense focus and excitement in his red eyes.

'He's... watching a romance anime?'  Seiji blinked in surprise. 'That's unexpected. I figured he'd be more into action or horror, but... This?'

Intrigued, Seiji closed the door and resumed getting dressed, processing this new revelation.

'So that's what this whole act was about... He didn't want me to catch him watching this. Is he embarrassed? Over an anime?'  he raised his eyebrow.

A faint smirk tugged at Seiji's lips as he finished dressing. 'People can like whatever they want. No reason to act like a fool over it.'

Once he heard the TV switch off, Seiji figured it was a good time to leave his room. As he stepped out, he spotted Hideaki rummaging through the fridge, clearly searching for something to eat.

"Hey, get out of there," Seiji called out, approaching the kitchen.

"Why?" Hideaki asked, turning to look at him, confused.

"Because I don't need you snooping around in my groceries," Seiji replied, his tone calm but firm.

When he reached Hideaki, he decided it was time to put his plan into motion. "Are you really that hungry?"

"Starving!" Hideaki exclaimed.

Seiji gave a slight nod. "Good. Then you'll be making your own dinner tonight."

Hideaki froze, his eyes widening, "H-HUH?!"

Seiji crossed his arms, looking down at Hideaki with his usual composed demeanor. "You heard me. It's time you learned how to cook. You almost burned the place down once, and I'm not taking that risk again."

"Huh!? I can't cook! I don't know how to do it! I won't do it alone, you idiot!!" Hideaki blurted out back, irritated.

Seiji sighed, adding "You're not going to do it all alone. You're gonna do it with my little help... Now, let's go. Stand up and follow me to the kitchen counter," he instructed, moving toward the counter with a purposeful stride.

Hideaki hesitated, confusion clear on his face.

'What's he up to?'  he thought suspiciously.

Cooking wasn't his thing, and it was usually Seiji who handled all the meals.

Reluctantly, he followed Seiji, casting wary glances in his direction.

'I have no desire to make my own dinner! Tch! Why the hell did Seiji come up with such an stupid idea!?'

In the kitchen, Seiji retrieved some rice, nori, a rice cooker, and salmon.

"Here. Everything you need to make onigiri," he said, setting the ingredients down neatly.

"Onigiri?" Hideaki scoffed. "I won't get full on just onigiri!"

Seiji was unfazed by the protest,

"If you manage this, we can move on to something more substantial."

He went to fridge and opened it's door, revealing an assortment of vegetables, hinting at what could come next.

"Tch- F-fine..." Hideaki murmured.

---

After preparing the rice and fish, Seiji demonstrated how to shape the onigiri, molding the rice into a perfect triangle with the precision and efficiency that came naturally to him.

When it was Hideaki's turn, however, things didn't go as smoothly.

His onigiri ended up looking more like a lumpy mess.

"Tch! Why the hell can't I make it like yours!?" Hideaki growled, his frustration boiling over as he glared at his failed attempt.

Seiji put down the rice ball and turned toward him,
"Hideaki... First - calm down. Getting angry won't help. It's just a distraction. Take a breath, reset, and try again."

But Hideaki was far from calming down.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He snapped "I'm trying, and it's not working! Stupid thing won't come out right, and I'm gonna-"

Before Hideaki could finish, Seiji quickly stuffed an onigiri into his mouth, cutting him off mid-rant. "Second - Eat. You're too annoying when you're hungry," he said bluntly.

Hideaki, caught off guard, begrudgingly chewed.

His anger began slightly fading as the rice ball started to calm his nerves. But then, he noticed Seiji already had another perfectly shaped onigiri ready.

'H-how the hell did he make another one so fast?!'
his frustration flared up again.

"Still tense, huh?" Seiji remarked, noticing Hideaki's clenched fists. "You're not thinking straight because you're hungry. Next time, eat something before you start cooking. It'll help with the nerves. Trust me, I've been there." There was no pride in his admission, just a practical suggestion based on experience.

As the more food began to settle in his stomach, Hideaki's irritation eased, and he felt a bit more motivated.

He tried shaping the onigiri again, this time with more focus.

While his results were far from perfect, they were noticeably better than his first attempt.

"See? You're improving," Seiji said, a small but genuine smile appearing. "You deserve to eat them now. Go ahead."

But instead of eating, Hideaki shot a glare at Seiji and forcefully shoved one of his misshapen onigiri into Seiji's mouth.

His messy hair obscured his expression, but the frustration was still there. "Tch! W-why you have to be so g-good at this," he muttered, though there was a hint of reluctant admiration.

Seiji chewed thoughtfully. "I'm good at this because I've been practicing cooking since I was kid." He answered, surprised by the gesture.

Then glanced at another crumpled onigiri in Hideaki's hand.

'Far from perfect, but still an effort.'

He refrained from making any critical remarks, recognizing how hard Hideaki had tried.

"Not bad," he stated while finsihing munching onigiri.

'In future, he'll get better,'  he thought giving a nod.

Hideaki's irritation softened just a bit, "N-not bad?" He repeated.
"Of course... Tch.. it could be fucking better.. why am I so lame in this shit!?" He grumbled under his breath

Seiji ignored his mumbling. "Now try making another one. Just be calm this time."

"Easy for you to say!!" Hideaki snapped.

"I'm holding my emotions up tight. You should try the same from time to time."

Hideaki growled like a rabid dog under his breath and with heavy hand he grabbed the rice and tried molding it into rice ball again.

---

The next onigiris were starting to look better and better.

Well... Better if someone would compare it to the first sample.

Hideaki finished, but he was looking clearly exhausted.

"One step at a time." Seiji said with a small sigh as Hideaki took bite of his own creation. 'Though the anger is still an issue.'

Encouraged by Hideaki's decent performance, Seiji decided to prepare another dish - Udon soup. He asked Hideaki to assist by cutting the vegetables while he focused on the soup base.

---

The knives were ready. Big, metal and shiny.

As Hideaki picked up one of Seiji's larger knives, a sadistic smile flickered across his face. He swung wildly, chopping the vegetables with too much force, damaging the wooden cutting board in the process.

"Die! Die! Die!"

He shouted with a sadistic glee.

The knife slammed into the board with splinters flying. His face, shadowed except for his red eyes gleaming with manic glee,

'If my fingers had been anywhere near that board, they'd be gone by now.'  Seiji analyzed pointing out the reckless force Hideaki was applying.

"Hideaki," he said evenly, his voice carrying just enough weight to cut through the noise. "Give me the knife."

"Huh!? Why should I?" Hideaki snapped, his eyes narrowing with anger and suspicion.

"Because you're destroying the cutting board. Unless you're planning to add splinters to the meal, I need the knife to show you how to do this properly."

"What!? Are you saying I can't cut with a knife!?" Hideaki's frustration grew.

"I'm saying you're not doing it safely," Seiji replied flatly, his tone unwavering. "You're turning a simple task into a mess. Now hand it over."

Hideaki's grip on the knife tightened as he dug its point into the cutting board. His glare could have cut through steel.

Seiji tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening.

"Give me the knife." he repeated keeping his tone calm but firm.

"Tch! Shut the fuck up!" Hideaki growled, his anger barely contained. "I'll kill you," he snarled.

Unfazed, Seiji arched a brow, his expression as steady as his voice.

"You're repeating yourself. Again. Killing threats? Classic you."

His lips curved into a dry smile.

"Lucky for you, I'm not the one with homicidal tendencies here. Now, give me the knife before you turn the kitchen into a crime scene."

Hideaki hesitated.

"If you walk away from this now,"

Seiji's ultimatum echoed in his mind again,

"then I'm done. I'll report everything to the police and disappear. You won't kill me. You'll never see me again. And the only thing that will be left to you will be rotting in the jail cell."

'When he said he'll be done... He didn't say this only about meeting with Ken, right..?'  Hideaki thought.

He gazed at Seiji, and a small pang of guilt formed inside him.

He hissed lightly "Tch- A-Alright..."

Finally, Hideaki shoved the knife toward him with a sharp glare,

"but as soon as you'll finish.. g-give it back." he muttered under his breath as he stepped back.

"Of course. It's not that these knives are mine and I'm borrowing them to you, only for cooking practice." Seiji added

Hideaki rolled his eyes on Seiji's pointing out.

Seiji took the knife, offering a subtle nod. "Now watch closely, and maybe we'll get through this meal with fewer casualties."

He demonstrated the correct technique, moving with calm precision.

"Look. You don't need to hack at them. Use controlled, gentle movements. You're not cutting through bone. Why are you using so much force?"

"This is how I always cut!" Hideaki snapped back,

Seiji sighed. "Sure. But vegetables aren't supposed to be treated like an enemy. Try to be more careful." He then handed Hideaki another knife, mirroring the one he used. "Now, repeat after me."

Despite Seiji's instructions, Hideaki continued to apply excessive force, chopping too harshly.

Seiji saw that mere words weren't enough to correct him. So, he took a different approach.

Stepping behind Hideaki, Seiji gently guided his hand, physically showing him how to control the knife. Hideaki tensed under the unexpected touch - His grip on the knife tightening in response.

"You're gripping too hard," Seiji said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "No one's taking it from you. Relax. It's yours. Just focus on being precise, not powerful. Remember that knife is a extension of your hand."

Hideaki gulped and carefully, guided by Seiji, began cutting.

---

The kitchen soon smelled of broth and sautéed ginger.

Seiji stood by the counter, sleeve rolled up to his elbow, a knife in hand.

Hideaki, tense as a wire, stared at him with wide eyes, clumsily holding a wooden spatula.

"First, the broth," Seiji said calmly, pointing to the pot. "Dashi. Water, kombu, then katsuobushi."
He gestured toward each ingredient. "Don't cook the kombu too long. Otherwise it'll turn bitter."

Hideaki nodded and, with trembling hands, dropped the kombu into the water.
Seiji watched but didn't comment.
He didn't correct him.
He let him see for himself how gently the water began to steam.

"Now the meat." Seiji handed him a slice of beef. "Cut it thin."

Hideaki took the knife, his hands trembled slightly — he aimed the blade on the meat... And almost sliced his finger, yanking the blade too roughly.

His pulse raced for a moment, and a bead of sweat formed on his brow.

Seiji grabbed his wrist at once.

"Easy there." His voice was calm, cool. "Remember. Not strength. Precision."

He guided Hideaki's hand in a slow, steady slicing motion.

"See?" Seiji murmured, not letting go right away. "The knife cuts on its own, if you let it."

Hideaki nodded, barely breathing.

Once the broth was ready, Seiji let him add the noodles.

"Cook udon separately. Then rinse it with cold water, so it doesn't stick."
He showed him how to drain and rinse the noodles.
"That's basic."

Hideaki watched, absorbed in every step.

After an hour, the kitchen looked more like a battlefield than a restaurant.
But on the table, freshly cooked udon with beef and green onions was steaming.

Hideaki stared at his creation in disbelief.

Seiji sat calmly at the table and tasted the first bite.
He chewed slowly.

Hideaki barely breathed.

Finally, Seiji looked up.

"Good."
He said it dryly, matter-of-fact — but his eyes glimmered with quiet approval.

Hideaki straightened like a wire, full of pride and disbelief.

"Really?!" he squeaked almost.

Seiji raised an eyebrow.

"If I thought otherwise, I'd tell you."
He took another bite. "Spices well-balanced. Next time, less force when chopping the vegetables. I'd like the pieces to still look like vegetables, not like bomb victims."

Hideaki’s ears flushed red. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, let out a small, almost embarrassed sigh, and chuckled softly, a mix of pride, relief, and lingering self-consciousness in his voice.

Later, when they finished eating, Seiji also showed him recipes for some basic foreign dishes:

— A simple French omelet ("Don't burn the pan, Hideaki.")

— Pasta carbonara ("No, not cream. Eggs.")

— Breakfast pancakes ("Just don't dump everything in at once.")

Each lesson was simple, calm, practical.
No lectures. No anger.
Just a quiet patience Seiji never even tried to emphasize.
He was just there.
Just helping.

And for Hideaki, it was more than learning to cook.
It was the feeling that, despite everything... he was worth the effort to someone.