A Spice in Life (Shokugeki no Soma x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 65 - The Meaning in a Name

(Name)'s POV

"So what exactly were you doing with Joichiro's brat last night in the kitchen?" My father's accusatory tone caused me to pause what I was doing. "Or perhaps I should say, what did he do to you?"

"Ugh, you're still hung up on that?" I groaned and placed my knife next to the raw chicken. "He was just showing me how to carve a chicken properly, like I'm doing right now." My father squinted, suspicious, as I tried to defend the boy.

I remembered how swiftly Soma sliced through the meat, or how confidently his hands gripped the blade, and... and how warm they felt around mine—gross! Why am I thinking about that right now?

"Soma-kun really knows his way around a chicken. You wouldn't guess it, but he's a pretty good tutor!" His guidance had certainly helped, and I was about to put my skills to the test when my father snatched up the blade.

"You're aware you could have simply asked your father, (Name)? No need to resort to asking that... boy," he spat the last word with venom. Wait, was he jealous I didn't ask him instead?

"I know, I know." I patted his arm consolingly. Then again, I didn't see the harm in asking Soma, considering his knife-abilities; my father's skills were subtle compared to Soma's flashiness. "How about this? You can show me how to carve this chicken."

He could tell I was only trying to appease him by the offer, I guessed, based on the way his jaw set. "Are you sure?"

"I mean it, Dad! I'm, uhh, I'm sure you could do it with your eyes closed!" It wasn't often that I resorted to flattery, especially when it came to my father, but I hoped it would ease his sour mood.

There was a moment where he mulled over the offer, before he turned to me with a strange spark in his eye. It looked uncharacteristically competitive, as if he'd taken my words as a challenge. "Eyes closed, you say?"

"Er--" He pulled a long handkerchief from his pocket and tied it around his eyes (the heck?). "Dad..??" I was given no chance to ask as he grabbed the whole chicken and rotated it so the legs faced him.

"Drums, thighs, wings, breasts: two of each. One carcass." He placed his hands on each part as he spoke, familiarizing himself with the shape of the chicken. "Lift the leg, pierce the skin with the knife. Pull back, pop out joint," he moved around the chicken with the knife and cut off the first leg, "slice off. Repeat." He slapped the two legs onto the cutting board. "Next, find the knuckle. Cut. Repeat." He pushed the four chunks to the corner. "Two thighs, two drums. Next: wings. Lift, cut through the wing, snap off. Repeat." My father flipped the chicken over. "Feel for the breastbone, knife through the wishbone, cut. One breast. Repeat, through the skin, down: two breasts." He placed the final pieces inline with the rest of the chicken, then slapped each of them in order. "One carcass, two breasts, two wings, two drums, two thighs. Done."

He removed his blindfold and blinked at me, a subtle smugness to his otherwise neutral expression. "Can Joichiro's brat do that?"

......Woah. I gawked at the impressive display. Woah woah WOAH!! He certainly was no chicken when it came to carving meat!

Quick as a rabbit, I grabbed his sleeve with both hands and tugged, jumping up and down like I used to do as a kid. It always worked when I was a little girl. "Teach me! Teach me how to do that!!"