Dinner for Makihara

Masaru dejectedly sat in the corner of the restaurant as Rika wiped down a table. "I let a priceless artifact get stolen. I'm finished," he sighed.

"This again? You're a chef, not a detective. If anything, they're the ones that botched it. Heck, I'm surprised that bastard managed to walk out as me without any issue," Rika groaned.

"But I failed to notice something was off. I just thought you were slacking, but it was some thief in disguise."

"Even if you noticed, he probably had a backup plan. I mean, a master of disguise must be prepared if someone sees through their disguise. Heck, I'm honestly more upset with myself that I couldn't see through his disguise. Guess that's a testament to how good that thief is at disguises."

Before the conversation could continue, there was a knock on the front door. 

Walking over, Rika scowled as she recognized the two finely dressed people at the door. "We're not open yet. Scram, Takeda,” she glared as she opened the door.

"And who was asking you huh? We're here to talk with Ryono, you bitch," a woman with white hair clad in a red dress and heels scoffed.

"Yes, yes, so move aside, heathen," a slit-eyed man with turquoise  hair clad in a white suit snickered. "Masaru, we are here to inform you that Makihara-sama wishes to have dinner here tomorrow. I have no doubt the dish will be excellent, though sadly I fear your establishment will fail the health test. A large rodent seems to be contaminating the dining area and kitchen," he sneered as he pointed at Rika.

"Yeah, I see what you mean, a giant piece of shit is right here on the floor," Rika glared as she pointed at the man.

"I'll see you in court for that slander."

These two were Helga Hepburn and Kazuya Takeda, former classmates of Rika and Masaru, as well as members of the Makihara faction. Hailing from a family that essentially controlled the country's legal system, Takeda was a pathetic man that would drag any who offended him even in the slightest to court and sue them for damages. Law was his main profession, but he decided to dabble in cooking upon being scouted by Makihara.

Helga on the other hand simply held a grudge against Rika for all the times she effortlessly bested her in cook-offs. As such, Rika viewed her in a far more positive light compared to Takeda.

"Sue all you want. I did nothing wrong so you can cry on the floor before your judge while I work," Rika scoffed as she flipped off Takeda.

Takeda clicked his tongue and took a picture of Rika flipping him off. "Well, hope you can clean up the place by tomorrow," he spat as he began to leave with Helga.

"Oh, and my dish will impress Makihara more than Masaru's," Rika smirked.

"We shall be judge and jury in that instance then," Takeda glared.

Once they were gone, Masaru turned to Rika. "I apologize that they cannot see you as a worthy adversary. They are fine chefs, and even though your manners of cooking can be eccentric, your skill is genuine and respectable," Masaru sighed.

"Thanks for that. Now let's prep for tomorrow. We're competing to see who can make the better dish," Rika smiled.

"With Makihara-sama as judge, I am motivated to the max."

...

The next night, a tall man with dark blue hair and pale skin marched into the restaurant along with Helga, Takeda, and a young woman with blue hair the same color as his. This was Shinji Makihara, one of the world's most elite chefs as well as both the current headmaster of Tabemono Gakuin and the chairman of Japan's gourmet elite society. The blue-haired girl was his daughter, Itsuki. She was a chef on par with Rika and Masaru that initially opposed her father's ideology but succumbed to his will as punishment for losing to him in a cook-off. Now, she was no more than a mere puppet.

"Quite despicable. Father, it appears Ryono-san has been suffering greatly. This establishment reeks of filth," Itsuki scoffed.

"Indeed. Most of the patrons here are little more than rubes that are too ignorant to properly experience such fine cuisine," Makihara sneered as he and his group sat down.

"A pleasure to see you again, Makihara-sama. What would you like to order?" Masaru asked.

"Oh, I'll be cooking a meal for you too," Rika snickered as she approached the table."

"So, the heathen has cometh. Takeda-kun informed me about this. Very well, make whatever gourmet dish you please. Anything goes, as long as it is a certified gourmet meal as defined by the worldwide gourmet elite society," Makihara glared.

Once the orders had been taken, Helga glanced at Makihara. "Why the hell did you even let Ryono go like that?" she asked.

"The heathen's personal demand was to expel Masaru-kun from my faction and to have him work with her. It was a shame we had to abide by it, but we were the losers of that big cook-off and thus subject to the oppression of the winners," Makihara sighed.

...

A few minutes later, Makihara glared at the dishes placed before him. "Masaru-kun, has Stockholm syndrome consumed you?"

"No sir. I was simply outmatched in my own kitchen," Masaru sighed.

"I see no problem. We just eat Masaru’s dish and not- "

"Do not waste food. That is the cardinal rule of this establishment. If you do not like the taste after eating a sizeable sample, we shall take the food back," Masaru glared at Takeda.

"Then simply give my dish to a bum on the street," Takeda spat.

"You opted to take part in this challenge. Respect the chef's meal."

"Well in that case..." 

Takeda began gobbling down Rika's dish rudely as Helga did the same. Makihara gritted his teeth and started with Masaru's dish first as did Itsuki. After finishing Rika's meal, Helga and Takeda then politely ate Masaru's dish as Makihara and Itsuki ate Rika's.

"And I say 4-0 Masaru wins," Helga sneered as she finished the meal.

"I concur. A flawless victory," Takeda chimed.

"No, I believe Makihara-sama enjoyed Rika's dish more," Masaru sighed.

"Much to my dismay, you are correct. Her dish is designed to perfectly enhance the taste of your dish, so long as yours is eaten first. As an elite gourmand, I must begrudgingly eat the dish as intended. And as expected of the heathen, she made sure to leave no room for error. One mistake, and it would be a failure, yet she managed to compliment the flavor of your dish at a level that rivals my own. I imagine you must be celebrating this small victory, yes?" Makihara glared at a grinning Rika.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Rika smiled.

Splat!

Everyone stared in shock as Itsuki threw her plate containing Rika's dish directly into Rika's face. "Terrible," Itsuki glared as the food dripped down Rika's face.