Wholesome Chicken Love

Literally a Cliche

The semester went on slowly, as coursework began to ramp up. Chika was organized in her classes and had made a couple friends. College was, for the most part, perfectly fine. She did well on her first exams, and was at the top of her classmates in grades. Work in the kitchen was also proceeding well, as she was growing more confident in her abilities outside of what she learned at her family's restaurant. There was just one thing that bothered her.

"Ugh," she groaned under her breath as she walked into Professor Manardi's class one day. I don't want to deal with him today, she thought to herself as she set up her bench.

"Good morning," Colonel said politely at the bench next to her, an air of tense silence between them. Chika nodded in acknowledgement. Colonel had continued to be just as infuriating as he had the first day of classes. Chika reasoned that it wasn't entirely his fault, probably because his cooking style and mannerism was just so different than hers. He's brash and insufferably confident, Chika grimaced, and I don't get why he hates me. There were many attempts to keep up with his quips and remarks at her expense; some of Chika's responses landed, sometimes her face grew beet red and she mumbled instead.

"Did you see the board?" Chika looked up from her textbook to see Colonel smirking at her.

"Not yet," she quickly skimmed the writing on the board at the front of the class. Great. A group project. It'll be worked on in class over the next week though so that's okay. But group projects are always a toss up.

"Hope your partner can help you actually cook outside the box." Colonel leaned closer on his cooking bench.

Chika froze up, then smiled back with a shake of her head. "Hope your partner can reign in your mess of fusion ideas," she lightly tapped her fingers on her bench.

"Oh?" Colonel crossed his arms. "You responded for once, little miss shy!"

Chika frowned. "What even is a nickname like that, Col?" she smirked as his face flushed.

"Class, you've read the board," Professor Manardi rushed through the door. "Start discussing with your bench partner what you'll make, that's how we'll assign partners today." He threw his bag onto his desk and dragged out his laptop. "Get to it!" and with a wave of his hand the class sluggishly moved to action, pairs of classmates discussing what to make over the course of the week, and what to get done in class today.

Chika and Colonel looked at each other. "Wonderful," Chika muttered. I don't want him as a partner. At least the feeling is mutual, she thought to herself. Colonel looked irritated at the prospect of working with her, his hands deep in his pockets and his face sporting a telltale frown.

"So, got any ideas?" Colonel cocked his head to the side, seemingly in thought.

Chika smiled lightly. "Chicken?"

"We'd fight to much," Colonel said with a shake of his head. "But we don't have too much time to decide. Any other ideas?"

Chika shook her head and sighed. "I'll grab the buttermilk. If we have multiple days to work we can test out some ideas today and plan."

And thus began what soon shaped up to be the worst cooking experience either Chika or Colonel had to date, even with a relatively positive start.

***

"That's too many seasonings!"

"It's for a complex flavor, not that you'd know about that."

"Excuse you?"

"Thanks for the pardon."

"Ugh!"

***

"Are you really adding that to the marinade?"