News that Shun had become the Eighth Seat of the Elite Ten dropped into Totsuki's deep waters like a depth charge—its shockwaves were unprecedented.
Defeating an Elite Ten and becoming an Elite Ten are two very different concepts.
In no time, "Shun" became the name on everyone's lips across Totsuki—his momentum even outshining the other transfer student making waves, Soma.
In a quiet kitchen elsewhere, the current First Seat, Eishi Tsukasa, was carefully polishing his knives.
Rindo Kobayashi jogged in, breathless, and told him that Shun had defeated Terunori and taken his seat.
Eishi's hand paused for a heartbeat. In his always-pensive, soft-colored eyes flashed the faintest surprise—and a deep interest.
"Terunori… actually lost to a first-year?"
Eishi knew Terunori's strength well—they'd fought a Shokugeki.
Especially in Sichuan cuisine, Terunori had few rivals even among the Elite Ten. And yet he'd lost to a transfer student who'd barely enrolled.
"Shun, hm?"
Eishi murmured softly, "To beat Terunori head-on at his best—and make him willingly follow afterward. Looks like another terrifying 'monster' has come to Totsuki. I wonder… what kind of style his cooking has."
He didn't say much else—but he carved the name into memory.
—
Meanwhile, on Shun's side—
Just as he expected, the Elite Ten seat brought not only privileges but a mountain of chores.
Mountain District, Elite Ten villa—office.
Seated behind a wide desk, Shun stared at a small mountain of paperwork, a faint headache throbbing.
Budget reports. Event proposals. Club applications. Partnership plans… Papers were on the brink of submerging the entire desktop.
Terunori stood to the side—not the least impatient; if anything a touch fawning—as he eagerly helped sort the files.
"Boss, these are the day-to-day matters for the Elite Ten," Terunori explained, with even a hint of pride. "This one's the renewal assessment with several top-tier ingredient suppliers for next term—needs your review and signature. This one's the initial site plan draft for the Moon Banquet Festival. Oh, and there's a second-year Shokugeki over restaurant siting this afternoon—one Elite Ten member must serve as final judge…"
The more Shun listened, the deeper his frown grew.
This was not what he wanted. He sought the pinnacle of cuisine—and to return to the other gourmet world to hone himself at the Food Forest Temple—not to be trapped here.
Yes, the Elite Ten don't have to attend classes. But skipping class simply buys you more headaches.
"And, the Commander's office just sent a notice. Next week's Elite Ten Review Council—regular meeting—you're required to attend. The agenda includes—"
"Enough."
Shun lifted a hand, kneading his brow. "Terunori, you go through these."
"Eh? Me?" Terunori blinked.
"Mm."
Shun stood, and without hesitation slid the thick stack in front of Terunori. "Anything that absolutely requires my signature or my presence, flag it. Everything else—handle it first, then bring me your preliminary judgments."
Terunori stared—then flushed with astonished delight. "Yes, Boss! Leave it to me! I'll take care of everything and never trouble you!"
To him, this was tremendous trust—and a vital step in his learning.
Fired up, he scooped the files into his arms and hustled to the deputy's desk, diving in.
Watching him, Shun quietly thanked his luck for picking up this "little brother." Without him, this clerical tide would drown anyone.
Finding a pretext to slip out, Shun ditched the paperwork storm and headed straight back to Polar Star Dorm.
The moment he pushed open the front door, a lone figure came into view.
Miyoko Hojo sat alone on the lobby sofa, head down, hands clasped tight, a gloomy air hanging about her.
"…"
Shun paused, sensing the difference in her mood at once.
He stepped closer, voice gentle. "Miyoko? What brings you to Polar Star—and why do you look so pale? Did something happen?"
Miyoko looked up; her eyes looked faintly red. But she pressed her lips together, stubborn, and didn't answer right away.
She only gave Shun a long, searching look—complicated, filled with confusion and grievance… and the faintest trace of distance.
"It's nothing."
She averted her eyes, voice low. "Can we… talk in your room? It's not convenient here."
"Okay." Shun didn't press. If she'd come here alone, it had to be important.
The two walked upstairs in silence, one behind the other, to Room 308 on the third floor—Shun's room.
The instant their figures vanished around the stairwell corner, several heads popped out across the first-floor lobby.
"Hey, hey! Did you see? Hojo-san's here!"
Yuki sprang up from behind the sofa, face full of giddy curiosity. "And she didn't look good at all—just followed Shun-kun straight upstairs!"
"Mm… it's rare to see Hojo-san like that. Did something happen?" Megumi peeked from the kitchen doorway, worry all over her face.
Soma scratched his spiky red hair, all straightforward confusion. "She came to find Shun. What's strange? Aren't they childhood friends?"
"Baka, Soma!"
Yuki shot back, "That's exactly why it's weird! Didn't you see her expression? She clearly has something on her mind—and it's about Shun-kun! This is major news."
Zenji pushed up his glasses and joined in. "From a psychology angle, Hojo-san's behavior strongly suggests internal distress and a preference for private communication. With the confidant being Shun-kun, the issue likely originates between the two."
"As expected of Zenji—very professional," Daigo praised.
(End of Chapter)
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