I forced my brain to execute a hard reboot, blinking away the shock. I didn't want to make things awkward, especially since we were going to be living in the same room for the next four years.
I cleared my throat, pasting on a friendly, reassuring smile. "Hey, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, Ren. I totally support you, man. Seriously."
Ren blinked, his intense blush fading just a fraction. He finally looked up at me, his magenta eyes showing a flicker of genuine relief and gratitude. He offered a very small, very shy smile. "Thank you, Katsuya. I... appreciate your understanding."
"Of course," I said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder before stepping back so I didn't overwhelm the poor guy.
"I believe this is our room," Pyrrha called out from a few doors down the hallway.
Nora instantly bounced back to life, sprinting ahead to join our team leader. Ren and I followed at a more normal pace. Pyrrha swiped her new student scroll against the electronic lock, and the heavy wooden door clicked open, revealing our new home.
It was a standard Beacon dorm room.
Spacious, but currently completely bare, with four neatly made single beds pushed up against the walls, two on each side, with a large open space in the middle.
"Dibs on the left side!" I called out, immediately walking over and claiming the bed nearest the window. I tossed my jacket onto the mattress.
"I'll take the one next to you," Ren said softly, walking over and placing his small travel bag on the bed beside mine.
"Then the right side belongs to the girls!" Nora cheered, immediately throwing herself face-first onto the mattress opposite of mine, her legs kicking in the air. Pyrrha smiled warmly, setting her shield and spear neatly against the wall by the remaining bed.
I sat down on the edge of my mattress, the sheer physical exhaustion of the day finally catching up to me. My legs felt like lead, and my shoulder still ached.
I leaned back against the wall, lifting my left hand and swiping my fingers in the air to bring up the translucent blue system screen.
[Katsuya]: Hey, Lightning. I just wanted to say thank you again for the Blazefire Saber. I honestly wouldn't have been able to contribute to the boss fight without it. It felt amazing to use.
[Lightning]: No problem. You needed it more than I did.
[Katsuya]: I haven't forgotten my promise. The second I get my hands on some Lien and find a decent weapons shop, I swear I am sending you the coolest, most ridiculously over-engineered gear Remnant has to offer.
[Lightning]: Sounds good to me. Just focus on getting settled in and resting up for now. We can talk about the loot later. Good job out there today.
I smiled, letting the conversation settle as the quiet ambient noise of our new dorm room took over.
I leaned back against the wall, stretching my legs out on the mattress. Across the room, Nora was humming a hyperactive, bouncy tune as she practically threw her belongings into her designated wardrobe. Next to her, Pyrrha was sitting on the edge of her bed, carefully and methodically polishing the bronze surface of her shield with a soft cloth. To my immediate right, Ren was silently and expertly folding his clothes into perfectly uniform squares, his green tailcoat already hung up neatly in his closet.
Everyone had something to do. Everyone was busy settling in.
I, on the other hand, had basically nothing. My physical luggage consisted of the clothes currently on my back.
I briefly considered opening my system interface to check the countdown on my Semblance update or to look at the clothes Scathach had sent me. But honestly? I was way too tired to even process floating text.
Besides, the system interface was completely invisible to everyone else in the world...probably.
If I opened it right now, Ren would just look over and see me sitting cross-legged on my bed, aggressively staring at absolute nothingness and occasionally swiping my fingers through empty air like a complete weirdo.
I didn't really want to creep out my new roommate on night one by looking like I was hallucinating.
Deciding to just embrace the boredom and the heavy exhaustion settling into my bones, I slid down the wall until my head hit the standard academy-issue pillow. It wasn't anything special, but right now, it felt like an absolute luxury.
"I'm tapping out," I mumbled to the room, pulling the thin grey blanket up over my chest. "Goodnight, team."
"Goodnight, Katsuya!" Nora chirped cheerfully without looking away from her messy pile of clothes.
"Rest well," Pyrrha added.
Ren just offered a quiet, polite nod from the next bed over, carefully placing a folded shirt into his drawer.
I rolled onto my side, facing the window.
Within minutes, the sounds of my new teammates unpacking faded away, and I drifted off into a deep, heavy, and dreamless sleep.
———
The first thing that registered was the muted, golden sunlight streaming through the gaps in the dorm room blinds, painting thin, dusty stripes across the wooden floorboards.
I groaned softly, my face buried in the stiff, standard-issue Beacon pillow. Every single muscle in my body protested as I shifted my weight. My legs felt like they were packed with wet cement from sprinting through the Emerald Forest, and a dull, lingering ache throbbed in my left shoulder where I had forcibly manifested my Innocence yesterday.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position and rubbed the back of my neck, taking in the quiet room.
I glanced over to the right side of the dorm. To my absolute surprise, both Pyrrha and Nora were still completely dead to the world. Nora was sprawled across her mattress in a chaotic, star-shaped pose, her blankets kicked off and half-hanging over the edge of the bed as she snored softly. Pyrrha was much more composed, curled up on her side with the blanket pulled up to her shoulders, her breathing deep and even.
I honestly hadn't expected that. I had fully prepared myself to wake up to Pyrrha doing one-handed pushups at the crack of dawn and Nora bouncing off the ceiling tiles. They were both powerhouses, but I guess the sheer adrenaline crash of fighting a Death Stalker and securing our relics had taken a massive toll on them, too. Even Ren, in the bed next to mine, was still completely silent, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath his covers.
Careful not to make a sound, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and planted my feet on the cool floorboards. As soon as I stood up, a faint, rhythmic chime echoed inside my head.
I raised my left hand, swiping my index finger downward through the empty air. The translucent, monochromatic interface of the multiversal chat materialized in front of me, hovering faintly in the morning light.
> [1 Unread Message]
[Scathach]: I have completed the final adjustments to your requested aesthetic. Attached to this message are the items. Do note that recreating the specific leather-and-steel composition of the facial covering required a frustrating amount of conceptual weaving.
> [System: You have received 'White Tailored Combat Suit' from Scathach.]
> [System: You have received 'One-Eyed Mask' from Scathach.]
[Scathach]: The mask features the eyepatch and the zippered maw youfrom that 'Tokyo Ghoul' fiction in our collective memories. The white suit is designed for high mobility while maintaining a formal structure. As previously stated, my forge and tailoring services are now entirely sealed until your debts are paid. Do not ask for further modifications.
[Katsuya]: Scathach, this is incredible. Seriously, thank you for putting in the effort. I'll make sure to get those debts paid off as soon as we start taking actual missions.
I closed the chat, swiping the blue screen away. I didn't want to pull the clothes out of the inventory just yet—the sudden flash of digital light might wake someone up, and I needed to handle the grime from yesterday before I even thought about putting on a pristine white suit.
Grabbing a clean towel and my basic toiletries from the small duffel bag the academy had provided for our arrival, I slipped quietly out of the dorm room. The hallway was empty and perfectly silent, the rest of the student body clearly taking advantage of the weekend to sleep off the grueling initiation.
I padded down the hall to the communal bathrooms, locking the door to one of the private shower stalls behind me.
Turning the heavy metal dial, I cranked the water heat up as high as I could tolerate. I stepped under the spray, letting out a long, heavy exhale as the scalding water hit my back. It felt like absolute heaven. The hot water worked instantly, seeping into my sore, strained muscles and washing away the thick layer of dirt andsweat.
I grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed thoroughly, dragging my hands through my wet white hair to wash out the dust and leaves that had gotten tangled in it during my frantic sprint with Pyrrha. As the water cascaded down the drain, taking the physical evidence of yesterday's chaos with it, my mind finally started to clear.
The system countdown for my Semblance update had to be almost finished by now.
Today was the first real day at Beacon Academy.
After standing under the spray until the hot water started to run slightly tepid, I finally turned the dial off. I ran a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back, and stepped out of the stall, wrapping the towel around my waist. The bathroom was filled with thick, warm steam.
I quickly dried off, toweling my hair until it stopped dripping. I decided to save the formal Kaneki-style combat suit for when I actually needed it, so I just materialized the pants from the casual streetwear set Scathach had made. They were a comfortable, dark, athletic fit. I pulled them on, tossing my towel over my shoulder, and decided to just grab a shirt once I was back in the room.
I unlocked the bathroom door and padded quietly down the hall, my bare feet silent against the polished floorboards.
Opening the door to our dorm room as gently as possible, I slipped inside. The room was still relatively dark, the blinds keeping the morning sun at bay. Nora and Ren were still completely dead to the world, breathing softly in their respective beds.
I walked over to the small wooden dresser assigned to my side of the room. To keep up appearances, I pulled the top drawer open, pretending to rummage through the empty wooden space while I actually brought up my system interface with my other hand, getting ready to pull a shirt out of my inventory.
"Mmm..."
I paused, closing the interface. I heard the rustle of bedsheets behind me.
I turned around. Pyrrha was sitting up on the edge of her mattress, her red hair a slightly messy, tangled halo around her shoulders. She was rubbing the sleep from her green eyes, stifling a small, polite yawn.
She blinked a few times, her gaze slowly focusing on the center of the room. It landed on me. Specifically, it landed on my completely bare chest.
For a split second, the room was dead silent.
Then, Pyrrha's eyes blew as wide as dinner plates. A shade of crimson that rivaled her own hair violently erupted across her cheeks and traveled all the way down her neck. She let out a sharp, panicked gasp, her hands flying up to cover her face, though her fingers were visibly splayed open.
"O-Oh! Good morning! I—I am so sorry!" Pyrrha stammered, her usually calm and collected voice cracking slightly as she tried to avert her gaze toward the ceiling, looking entirely scandalized.
I blinked, completely caught off guard by the reaction. In a normal dorm setting, a guy walking around without a shirt on was practically a universal constant. I didn't see what the big deal was.
"Pyrrha? Are you okay?" I asked, my brow furrowing in genuine concern. I dropped the towel from my shoulder and took a few steps across the room, walking right up to her.
She flinched slightly as I got closer, her face turning even redder. "I-I am fine, Katsuya! You just... you are not fully dressed!"
"It's just a chest, Pyrrha. Did you have a nightmare or something?" I reached out, gently taking one of her hands away from her face to make sure she wasn't having some kind of post-initiation panic attack. Her skin was incredibly warm. "You're burning up."
"I am perfectly—" Pyrrha started, but as I held her hand, her green eyes instinctively dropped downward.
I watched as her gaze locked onto my chest, trailing over the defined muscles of my torso and the tone of my arms. She completely froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes slightly glazed over as she stared openly at my pecs.
Before I could even ask her what she was looking at, Pyrrha's survival instincts apparently kicked in.
With blinding speed, her free hand shot out, grabbing her folded, bronze-accented sash from the edge of her bed. Without a word of warning, she launched the bundle of fabric directly at my upper half with the force of a professional athlete.
The cloth hit me squarely in the face, wrapping around my head and completely blinding me.
"...eh?"
I pulled the bronze-accented sash off my face, blinking in total confusion, only to be met with the sight of an incredibly flustered, fiercely blushing Spartan.
"Katsuya Akiya, you cannot simply parade around like that!" Pyrrha whisper-shouted, her voice entirely abandoning its usual calm cadence. She had one hand covering her eyes, but she was still very much peeking through her fingers. "You need to take better care of yourself and your modesty! We are in a co-ed dormitory! What if someone else had walked in? What if rumors started spreading around the academy calling you a... a slut ?!"
My brain completely flatlined.
A slut?! And then, it finally clicked. The gender-flipped society. A guy walking around shirtless wasn't just considered 'casual dorm behavior' in this universe; to a traditional, highly respected girl like Pyrrha, it was the exact equivalent of me parading around in a string bikini. I was actively being scandalous.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" I hissed, immediately taking a massive step back and holding her sash over my chest like a makeshift shield. "I completely forgot! I wasn't thinking, I swear!"
"Wha...? Pyrrha? Why are you yelling about sluts so early...?"
A groggy, confused voice mumbled from across the room. Nora was sitting up, her orange hair sticking up in completely different directions, aggressively rubbing her eyes. In the bed next to mine, Ren also stirred, letting out a soft sigh as he pushed himself up, blinking sleepily at the commotion.
Pyrrha immediately stiffened, her posture snapping to rigid attention as she realized she had woken up the rest of the room. The deep crimson blush on her face somehow managed to get even darker.
"It is nothing, Nora!" Pyrrha squeaked, completely losing her elegant composure. She quickly marched over to the orange-haired girl's bed and practically hauled her up by the arm. "I apologize for the outburst, everyone! Nora and I are simply going to gather our things and utilize the communal bathroom to get dressed. We need to give the boys their privacy!"
"Privacy? But we just woke up—whoa, hey!" Nora yelped as Pyrrha grabbed a pile of clothes from the wardrobe and shoved them into her arms.
"To the bathroom, Nora!" Pyrrha insisted, practically marching the sleepy girl to the door. She didn't look back at me, her gaze entirely fixed on the wooden grain of the doorframe as she pulled it open. "We will return shortly!"
The heavy dorm room door slammed shut behind them, leaving the room in a sudden, ringing silence.
I stood in the middle of the floor, still shirtless, clutching a bronze sash to my chest, staring blankly at the closed door. I really needed to permanently drill the cultural norms of this world into my head before I accidentally gave someone a heart attack.
I let out a long, heavy exhale, dragging my free hand down my face.
From the bed to my left, I heard the rustle of sheets. I turned my head to see Ren sitting cross-legged on his mattress. He was looking at me with a completely bewildered, groggy expression, his dark hair slightly ruffled from sleep.
He looked at me, then at the door, and then back at me.
"What happened?" Ren asked softly.
I looked at Ren, who was still waiting for an explanation with wide, sleepy eyes.
"I... forgot to put a shirt on," I said smoothly, giving him an awkward, apologetic smile.
"I'm a heavy sleeper. Just threw my internal compass out of whack. Still adjusting to the co-ed dorm rules."
Ren slowly nodded, though he still looked slightly bewildered. "I see. Please be careful. Pyrrha is very traditional."
"Yeah, definitely noted," I muttered.
I quickly turned back to my dresser, blocking his line of sight, and swiftly pulled a plain white t-shirt from my system inventory, pulling it over my head.
By the time Pyrrha and Nora returned, fully dressed in their casual academy wear, the awkward tension had mostly faded. Pyrrha kept her eyes strictly at eye-level, refusing to look anywhere near my torso, while Nora seemed to have completely forgotten the morning's incident, practically skipping down the hall as our newly formed team headed toward the cafeteria for breakfast.
I walked beside Nora, easily falling into step with her energetic pace. Wanting to test the waters of her flipped personality again, I casually leaned in close, dipping my head down to speak right next to her ear in a conspiratorial whisper.
"So, what's the game plan for breakfast?" I asked.
Nora instantly froze mid-skip. Her shoulders hiked up to her ears, and she clutched her hands tightly in front of her chest. Her boisterous, hammer-swinging energy completely evaporated in less than a second, replaced by a deep, sudden blush.
"M-Maybe some... pancakes?" she squeaked softly, her voice incredibly timid as she actively avoided making eye contact with me.
I couldn't help but stifle a quiet laugh. It was genuinely hilarious. She was so much like her canon self—loud, hyperactive, and totally obsessed with pancakes—but the second a guy initiated any sort of close contact or focused attention, she completely short-circuited into a bashful mess.
I straightened up, giving her some breathing room, and looked over at our team leader.
"What about you, Pyrrha?" I asked, a playful grin forming on my face. "If the cafeteria line is too long, I actually know a pretty good recipe. I could always see if the kitchen will let me make you some potato pancakes."
Pyrrha blinked, tilting her head with genuine intrigue. "Potato... pancakes? I cannot say I have ever heard of such a dish."
"Oh, they're great," I lied smoothly, remembering the late-night depression meals my other selves had joked about in the chat. "Savory, crispy on the outside. A real staple where I'm from."
———
[Nora Valkyrie POV]
I kept walking forward, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other down the hallway, but my brain was completely stuck on a buffering screen.
First, Katsuya had leaned in so close to whisper to me. He smelled like clean soap and boy, his voice was all low and rumbly right next to my ear, and my heart had immediately started doing frantic backflips against my ribcage. I was already struggling to process the fact that our incredibly cool, confident teammate was actively choosing to talk to me.
But then, he dropped a complete and utter bombshell.
Potato pancakes.
I stared blankly straight ahead as we approached the bustling cafeteria doors, Ren and Pyrrha chatting politely behind me.
Pancakes were sacred. They were fluffy, sweet, and covered in an ocean of sugary syrup. Potatoes were... potatoes. They were mashed, or fried, or baked with butter. How do you combine them? Do you put syrup on a potato? Do you mash a pancake?! Is it salty? Is it sweet? Is it a breakfast food or a dinner food?!
I was completely trapped in a terrifying culinary paradox. My mind was racing, desperately trying to envision this mysterious, impossible dish.
What the heck is a potato pancake?!
We found an empty table right near the massive, sunlit windows overlooking the courtyard. The cafeteria was already a buzzing hive of morning activity, filled with the loud chatter of hundreds of students and the clatter of silverware. I dropped into my seat next to Ren, but my brain was still completely stuck on a buffering screen, trapped in a terrifying culinary paradox.
Pancakes were sacred. They were fluffy, golden disks of joy meant to be drowned in an ocean of sugary syrup. Potatoes were... potatoes. They were meant to be mashed, or fried, or baked with a ridiculous amount of butter.
How in the world do you combine them? Do you pour maple syrup on a mashed potato? Do you stuff a pancake with hash browns?! Is it crunchy? Is it sweet? Is it a breakfast food, or a dinner food masquerading as breakfast?!
"Alright, I'll be right back," Katsuya announced, snapping me out of my existential crisis. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "I'm going to see if I can borrow a skillet from the kitchen staff."
Pyrrha was out of her seat in a literal fraction of a second. She stood up tall, her posture perfectly rigid. "Should I accompany you, Katsuya? The cafeteria is quite crowded this morning."
Katsuya just laughed, offering her a casual, dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm fine, Pyrrha, really. It's just a cafeteria, not a Grimm-infested forest. I just need to ask them a quick favor. Sit tight, I'll be back in ten minutes."
Pyrrha hesitated, her green eyes scanning the bustling room with a highly critical gaze, but she eventually gave a reluctant nod. "Very well. Please be careful."
As Katsuya turned his back and began weaving his way through the sea of tables toward the food counters, Pyrrha sat back down across from me. But she wasn't relaxed. Her back was perfectly straight, and her eyes were locked onto the back of Katsuya's head with the intense, unwavering focus of a huntress tracking a target.
I leaned my chin on my hands, watching him too, still trying to imagine a potato wearing a pancake disguise. As I did, I noticed a taller girl with a confident strut and a stylized jacket spot Katsuya from across the aisle.
The girl smirked, her eyes raking over his white hair, and she immediately changed her trajectory to casually intercept him.
I opened my mouth to warn him, but I didn't even get the chance to inhale.
Pyrrha moved with a terrifying, silent speed that completely defied physics. One second she was sitting across from me, and the next, she had completely bypassed Katsuya's path and smoothly stepped right in front of the approaching girl.
Katsuya, completely oblivious, just kept walking toward the kitchen, not even realizing he had almost been cornered.
I couldn't hear what was being said over the ambient noise of the cafeteria, but I watched the interaction with wide eyes. Pyrrha stood incredibly tall, her hands politely clasped in front of her, offering the girl a smile that was perfectly polite but radiated an aura of absolute, immovable authority. She spoke a few quiet words, gesturing vaguely back toward where Ren and I were sitting.
The girl blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sheer presence of the four-time regional champion blocking her path. She let out an awkward, breathless laugh, rubbed the back of her neck, and happily turned around to head back to her own table without taking another step toward our teammate.
Crisis averted.
Pyrrha seamlessly turned around and walked back to our table, her shoulders significantly more relaxed now that the threat was neutralized.
She sat back down, smoothing out her skirt, and offered Ren and me a perfectly serene smile. Ren just took a quiet sip from his water glass, his stoic expression unchanged, evidently completely unfazed by Pyrrha's intense dedication to keeping the boys on our team safe from cafeteria predators.
———
[Katsuya Akiya (MC) POV]
"Excuse me? Sir?"
I leaned over the stainless-steel counter, trying to catch the attention of the kitchen staff. Behind the massive glass sneeze-guards, the Beacon culinary team was working flawlessly, flipping standard pancakes and scrambling eggs.
An older man with thinning silver hair and a spotlessly clean, pastel-yellow chef's apron wiped his hands on a towel and hurried over. He had kind, crinkling eyes and a remarkably warm, gentle smile.
"Oh, hello there, dear! Can I help you?" the older man asked, his voice incredibly soft and incredibly sweet, practically radiating a comforting, grandmotherly energy. "Did you need something special? The serving line is just over there, but if you have a dietary restriction, I'd be more than happy to whip something up for you!"
"Actually, I have a bit of a favor to ask, if it's not too much trouble," I said, putting on my most polite, respectful smile. "I was wondering if I could borrow a corner of a griddle for about ten or fifteen minutes? I want to cook something specific for my team to celebrate passing initiation."
The older man gasped softly, clasping his hands together over his apron, looking absolutely delighted. "Oh, my word! That is just the sweetest thing! You want to cook for your team? What a thoughtful young man you are. What exactly were you planning on making, sweetheart?"
"Potato pancakes," I answered easily. "I just need some freshly shredded potatoes, an onion, a little flour, an egg, and some salt and pepper. Nothing crazy, and I promise I'll clean up my own station when I'm done."
"Potato pancakes?" The chef's eyes widened with genuine curiosity and excitement. "Well, I can't say I've ever heard of that, but it sounds absolutely delightful! Are you sure you don't want me to just make them for you, honey? The kitchen can be quite hot and messy."
"I appreciate it, but I really want to make them myself," I assured him.
"Well, aren't you just precious," the older man beamed, waving me toward the swinging metal doors at the end of the counter. "Come right on back, sweetie! Just make sure you wash your hands at the prep sink first. I'll get you a nice little corner station set up right away so you can make your friends that special breakfast."
The older chef, who insisted I call him 'Pop-Pop' Barry, was true to his word. He ushered me into the massive, gleaming kitchen, practically clearing out a corner section of the secondary flat-top grill just for me. He even handed me a fresh, clean apron so I didn't get oil on my new shirt.
"Everything you need is right here, dear,"
Barry smiled warmly, pointing to a small prep table stocked with a bowl of peeled russet potatoes, a yellow onion, a small bowl of flour, and a carton of eggs. "You just holler if you need any extra seasoning, okay? Take your time."
"Thank you, Barry. I really appreciate it," I smiled back, tying the apron around my waist.
Once I was set up, I quickly got to work. I hadn't cooked much in my three days of existence, but drawing on the collective memories of my other selves made the process incredibly natural. I grabbed a box grater and started shredding the potatoes and the onion, the sharp, pungent smell of the onion mingling with the starchy scent of the potatoes.
After ringing out the excess moisture in a clean towel, I tossed the shredded mixture into a large metal bowl. I cracked an egg over it, added a handful of flour, and gave it a generous pinch of salt and black pepper, mixing it all together until it formed a thick, starchy batter.
I ladled a generous amount of cooking oil onto the hot griddle. It instantly sizzled, shimmering under the overhead lights.
Taking a large spoon, I dropped dollops of the potato mixture onto the hot steel, using the back of the spoon to flatten them out into neat, even circles. The sound of the batter frying was loud and satisfying, filling my little corner of the kitchen with an incredibly savory, mouth-watering aroma.
Barry drifted by a few minutes later, pausing to watch me expertly flip the pancakes with a wide metal spatula. The bottoms were a perfect, deep golden-brown, the lacy edges visibly crispy.
"Oh, my goodness," Barry breathed softly, his eyes widening. "Those look absolutely wonderful! They smell divine. You'll have to write that recipe down for me before you graduate, sweetheart."
"It's a deal," I laughed, pressing down lightly on the pancakes to ensure they cooked evenly through the center.
I let them fry for another few minutes until both sides were perfectly crispy and golden, then transferred them to a large, paper-towel-lined platter to drain the excess oil. I quickly wiped down the griddle, untied the apron, and handed it back to Barry with a grateful nod.
"Thank you again, sir. You're a lifesaver."
"Anytime, dear! You boys go enjoy your breakfast," he beamed, giving me a gentle pat on the shoulder.
I grabbed the heavy, stacked platter of steaming potato pancakes, grabbed a few forks and napkins, and pushed my way back out through the swinging metal doors into the loud, chaotic cafeteria.
The savory scent of fried onions and potatoes immediately overpowered the standard cafeteria smells around us.
"Alright, Team PRKN," I announced, grabbing a few spare plates and divvying up the crispy, golden-brown disks. "The Katsuya Akiya special. Eat up."
Nora stared at the potato pancake on her plate like it was an alien artifact. She cautiously poked the crispy edge with her fork. "It's... not drowning in syrup..."
"Just trust me," I laughed, sitting down and pulling my own plate closer. "Ready? Three, two, one. Go."
We all cut a piece and took a bite at the exact same time.
The crunch of the lacy, fried edges echoed at our table. I chewed thoughtfully, immediately analyzing the flavor profile. Hmm... I almost opened my mouth to apologize, realizing I had definitely gone a little bit too heavy on the black pepper and the shredded onion. The flavor was incredibly strong, packing a massive savory punch. I swallowed, deciding to just keep my culinary critiques to myself. It was a bit intense, but honestly? For my first time actually cooking, it was still pretty damn good.
I looked up, waiting for the verdict.
Nora's teal eyes were wide, practically sparkling. "Oh my gosh. It's crunchy. It's salty. It's... it's amazing! It's like a hash brown and a pancake had a beautiful, perfect baby!" She immediately started shoveling the rest of it into her mouth, completely abandoning any previous hesitation.
"Katsuya, this is incredible," Pyrrha said, her eyes lighting up as she took another much more polite, but equally enthusiastic, bite. "The texture is wonderful. You made this just now?"
Ren, usually impossible to read, was staring at his half-eaten potato pancake with genuine, profound respect. He looked up at me, giving a slow, deeply appreciative nod. "The seasoning is robust, but it balances perfectly with the starch. It is a highly efficient and delicious use of simple ingredients."
"Glad you guys like it," I grinned, leaning back in my chair. I looked over at the quiet ninja. "I'll show you how to make them later, Ren. It's super easy once you get the technique down."
"I would be honored," Ren replied softly, already cutting his next piece.
We fell into a comfortable, happy silence, the four of us just enjoying the meal and the morning sun streaming through the windows. It felt nice. Normal. Like I was actually just a regular student having breakfast with his friends, instead of an interdimensional anomaly borrowing recipes from anime girls.
I was just about to take another bite when a very loud, very distinct voice cut right through the ambient noise of the cafeteria.
"Oh my gosh, I don't care what it is, I smell it and I want it!"
I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth. I recognized that high-pitched, energetic tone instantly. I turned my head, looking over my shoulder just as Ruby Rose came practically skipping down the aisle toward our table, with the rest of Team RWBY trailing tiredly behind her.