Villain to Hero: Naruko Motomiya

Chapter 18: Cooking Together

They entered the dorms, the first class of the second term having sapped their energy. Upon entering, Tamakawa raced to one of the four couches and flopped down on it, taking up the entire couch. "Ah, that's nice," She let out.

"I'm going to need some help with the hot pot if any of you want to join me in the kitchen," Takamura announced to the class.

Motomiya had never had a hot pot before, let alone actually cook anything from scratch. He knew vaguely what a hot pot was, only that it was commonly eaten in the winter with a large group of people. Other than that, he knew nothing about it. He wanted to help make it, though. Everyone in this class was so close to each other, their friendships having been built over the course of a year and a half, if not longer. He was just some new kid, and he desperately wanted to befriend these people. They were so kind and welcoming to him; they embodied heroism.

"I can probably help," Motomiya said, raising one of his hands slightly.

"I wanna help too!" Shima exclaimed.

"That sounds fun, I'm in," Saionji said with a smile.

"We can totally do that!" Daiba exclaimed with Hakate standing beside her.

Takamura smiled at them all. "Great," He said."Go change and meet me back in the kitchen. Don't want to stain anything."

The small group entered the elevator, and each went to their rooms to change out of their uniforms. Motomiya threw on the only outfit he had: a gray sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. He then went back down to the common area to regroup with his classmates. Two of his classmates were already back in the kitchen: Takamura and Hakate, who were both busy tying aprons over their clothing.

Motomiya approached the two. "Where are the aprons kept?" He asked awkwardly, his voice sounding louder than he initially intended.

"Just in the cupboard under the sink," Takamura answered, pointing to it.

He walked past the two men and crouched down next to the sink, opening the cupboard. Inside were cleaning chemicals, dishwasher soap pods, extra paper towels, and aprons. He took one of the aprons out and put it on over his clothes.

"I'll relocate the aprons after dinner," Takamura said, "Hang them in a closet instead of with the cleaning supplies."

"Good idea," Hakate said, "It doesn't make sense that we would store them there."

"Yeah," Motomiya added, wanting to be a part of the conversation.

A distant rumbling could be heard from the elevator. Turning to see what the sound was, Motomiya saw Shima and Saionji sprinting toward him as fast as they could from the elevator. He let out a yell as the two crashed into him, sending them all to the floor.

"Ha! I win!" Saionji exclaimed, raising a hand up into the air victoriously.

"Damn!" Shima let out, pounding the floor. He then realized that they were crushing Motomiya when he heard a small whimper come from him. "Shit, sorry, Miya!" He shouted, pulling himself and Saionji off of him in an instant. He put out a hand to him.

Motomiya grabbed it and pulled himself up from the floor. "Miya?" He questioned, pointing out the nickname he had been called.

"Just a nickname, y'know? Makes it easier and more fun. Do you not like it?" Shima asked, catching an apron that Saionji threw at him and putting it on.

He had never been given a proper nickname that wasn't just a swear or an insult before. Miya, the last part of his last name. He liked it. It made him sound friendly and made him feel special. "No, I love it," He replied, a smile making its way across his face.

"I can't believe I'm the last one!" Daiba shouted as she slowly ran over to the kitchen. After catching her breath, she asked Takamura, "What should we do?"

Takamura put a hand to his chin and thought to himself for a moment. "Saionji and I can be in charge of the vegetables, Miya can make the broth, Hakate can cut up the pork, Shima can cook the udon and rice, and Daiba can make the dipping sauces."

They all grabbed their respective ingredients from large shopping bags on the counter top and went to their stations.

Motomiya stared at the pile of ingredients for the broth. There were bottles of soy sauce, sake, and mirin next to salt and instant dashi powder. He didn't know what to do with any of this. He looked up from the counter and saw that everyone had begun doing their tasks and preparing their ingredients. Anxiety crept over him. He felt like such an idiot compared to them all, not knowing how to make a hot pot, yet alone knowing what it really was.

"Do you need some help?" Takamura asked him, seeing how much trouble he was having.

He nodded.

"First, you'll need a really big pot to fill with four cups of water. There are some in that cupboard," Takamura started, pointing with his upper set of arms while chopping up vegetables with his lower set.

Motomiya grabbed a large pot from the cupboard and set it down by the sink. He filled it to the four cups mark.

"Put that on the stove and pour in the packet of dashi powder," Takamura instructed. Motomiya did just that. "Now, pour in two tablespoons of soy sauce and sake, and one tablespoon of mirin. After that, sprinkle in some salt for flavor."

Motomiya grabbed a measuring spoon and measured each of the ingredients out before pouring them into the broth. The broth turned a light brown color as everything was mixed. He then added a small amount of salt. He looked up at Takamura for the next instruction.

He moved on to thinly slicing some carrots. "Turn the stove on and let the broth simmer over medium heat."

"What does simmer mean?" Motomiya asked him.

"It means to cook it just under the boiling point. You want it to be hot, but not boiling," Takamura answered.

"Ah, okay," He said. He turned the stove on and watched the pot.

Takamura then added thinly sliced carrots and sliced daikon to the pot. "Have you ever made a hot pot before?" He asked politely.

"No, I haven't," He answered, ashamed.

Takamura smiled. "They are even more delicious with more people to eat it. Even though it's summer, it's the perfect dish to eat now that we have you in the class," He said, "I'm sure you'll fit right in with us."

All of a sudden, he felt tears well up in his eyes and his throat close up. He felt so welcome, so loved here, that he couldn't help but cry. This was the first time he truly felt loved and cared about. He was a new kid that none of his classmates really knew, yet they all welcomed him as if he were family. He felt like he had found his home. No, he knew that he had found his home.