Steam rose in thick, fragrant clouds from a large cast-iron boiler.
Strings of meatballs twirled gently in the rolling broth, dancing between tofu puffs, kelp rolls, skewered fishcakes, and plump slices of daikon. With each bubbling motion, the aroma intensified—an alluring perfume of dashi broth and soy-laced umami that beckoned customers from meters away.
It was a dish that evoked warmth, nostalgia, and late-night hunger:
Oden.
To the average passerby, oden was a humble dish—a street-side snack bought in haste, slurped quickly, and often forgotten just as fast.
But here, at the first stall of the Main Avenue area, the oden being prepared was anything but ordinary.
"Ahhh~ the meatballs here are so good."
Rindō Kobayashi leaned over the steaming pot, her wild hair slightly frizzed from the humid heat. With each bite of a new skewer, her expression turned brighter, like a child discovering treasure after treasure in a chest of broth-soaked gold.
"The tender fish balls, chewy pork meatballs, the fried tofu that's soaked in so much broth it's practically melting—mmf!—and even the kelp rolls! They're so well-seasoned."
She paused, blinking in surprise.
"Huh? What's this…? Are those northeastern Chinese vegetables? Whoa, lotus root? Even pickled cabbage?"
Rindō beamed with excitement. Her adventurous palate was being rewarded with each bite.
Behind the oden counter, Megumi Tadokoro stood nervously, her cheeks flushed as she watched the famed Elite Ten member devour her skewers with such unrestrained joy.
"C-Can you really finish all of those… senpai?"
A slightly panicked smile crept onto her face as she eyed the growing mountain of empty sticks beside Rindō's tray.
"It's fine, it's fine! Everything you made tastes really good," Rindō said cheerfully between bites, popping another slice of braised daikon into her mouth. "Especially this konnyaku… ohh, and this fish cake… You've got a really good grasp on heat control."
Though Megumi had only just begun experimenting with regional variations, her dedication was evident in every simmered bite.
"Megumi, right? I see you around the tavern sometimes. What's impressive is how you put your heart into every dish."
Rindō gave her a toothy grin and jabbed her skewer toward her for emphasis.
"Your technical skills still need polish, sure… but your dedication to cooking? That spark—it reminds me of Zane."
"Z-Zane?" Megumi blinked. "But… Hinako-senpai said something like that too when I interned at Kirinoya…"
Rindō laughed.
"Heh! You're already learning a lot from him. You probably just don't realize how much."
She stood up with a stretch, dropping her latest batch of empty sticks into the trash bin with a clatter.
"Keep going, Megumi. When you graduate… I think there's a spot waiting for you in the Elite Ten."
And with a carefree wave, she walked away into the festival crowd, vanishing into the colorful buzz of the Moon Banquet.
Meanwhile, on the Mountain Slope
High above the bustle of the main avenues, nestled between the hillside trees, a different kind of establishment came alive.
Lit by soft golden lights, the temporary restaurant erected under Erina Nakiri's name stood like a gleaming jewel. The forest clearing had been transformed into a high-end terrace, with lacquered wooden tables, wine racks, and a gleaming open kitchen where chefs moved in quiet synchronization.
Despite being a temporary stall, the ambiance rivaled luxury restaurants in Ginza.
Guests in tailored suits and designer gowns sipped wine while sampling seasonal delicacies. Waiters moved efficiently, balancing trays of artfully plated dishes. And in the heart of it all—
Erina Nakiri, clad in a pristine chef's coat, presided like a queen at court.
"Hisako," she said without turning, her voice calm but edged with nervous tension, "have all the reserved guests arrived?"
"Yes, Lady Erina," Hisako replied, checking her notepad. "All but the central table."
"I see…"
"Who's so important that you'd save the centerpiece table for them… yet not invite them?"
Hisako's tone was teasing, though her expression remained respectful. But when she glanced at Erina—
She saw it. The soft pink rising in her lady's cheeks.
"That seat is for Zane," Erina murmured, eyes briefly flicking toward the empty chair.
Hisako sighed.
"You didn't even invite him, did you?"
"…I know."
Erina pressed her lips together and turned away, pretending to check on a sauce reduction.
But her hands paused over the ladle.
Would he come if I had?
She shook the thought away.
"Let's get everything ready before sunset," she said briskly.
"Understood, Lady Erina."
In the Central Area – Clash of the Titans
Further downhill, the Central Area was a carnival of color, sound, and savory smells. Lanterns flickered above crowded stalls. Banners flapped in the evening wind. People queued up for food, chattering excitedly with coupons in hand.
And at the heart of this battleground—
Sōma Yukihira's stall was booming.
His specialty today: pepper buns.
Each one handcrafted, filled with a marinated pork mixture full of chopped scallions and fragrant pepper, then sealed in dough and slapped onto the inner wall of a scorching hot clay oven.
As they baked, the sesame-studded crusts darkened and crackled, releasing plumes of fragrant steam.
"Whoaa—this is amazing!"
"It's spicy but also sweet! The dough is chewy on the outside but soft inside, and the filling is so juicy!"
"Careful, it's hot—oh! My tongue—!"
Sōma grinned behind the counter, flipping buns with practiced ease.
"Fresh outta the oven! Hot and spicy, come get 'em!"
He worked solo. One dish. No backup. No assistants. Just raw hustle and flavor.
And yet, a line was forming.
Across the street, a golden palace shimmered with ornate splendor.
Kuga's Restaurant.
Eaves shaped like dragon wings. Red-and-gold banners fluttering above the entrance. Decorative lanterns cast a soft glow on carved columns. Inside, it looked like a Michelin-starred Sichuan palace from Chengdu.
At the entrance, Kuga Terunori, dressed in deep red Hanfu, stood arms crossed, his sharp eyes locked on Sōma's crowded stall.
Tch… That brat's drawing a crowd with buns? Seriously?
"Boss," one of his assistants whispered, "everything's prepped. Shall we open?"
"Yeah. Let's begin."
The restaurant's wooden doors swung open.
"WELCOME!" Kuga bellowed, smoke and spice curling around him as he fired up his wok. "Come experience the fire of Sichuan cuisine!"
Within minutes, the aroma of chili oil and fermented peppercorn filled the air.
Customers rushed in, drawn by curiosity and hunger. Plates of red oil dumplings, thin-skinned and plump, floated in vivid scarlet broth. The sauce clung to the skin like lacquer—spicy, fragrant, numbing.
"I'm sweating but I can't stop eating…"
"This heat… it's addictive!"
"Now this is Elite Ten-level flavor!"
Diners gasped, eyes tearing up as they reached for water and more dumplings.
Kuga smirked.
"I'll show him. No amateur's gonna outsell me in the Central Area."
But back across the street, Sōma simply smiled, flipping another batch of buns into the oven.
He wasn't intimidated.
Bring it on.
Evening Falls
The sun dipped low behind the trees, casting the festival in hues of orange and gold.
At exactly 6:00 PM, Totsuki Academy staff began tallying the earnings across the stalls in each zone.
And when the results were announced—
Central Area Sales Champion, Day 1:
Kuga Terunori's Sichuan Restaurant.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Kuga folded his arms, nodding with satisfaction.
But across the street, Sōma simply wiped his brow, smiled, and said:
"Tomorrow's a new day."
And so, the first day of the Moon Banquet Festival came to a close—
With fire, flavor, and fierce competition igniting passions across every corner of Totsuki.