Dimwit || Shinomiya Kojiro

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(Ishikawa Juno POV)

"Grandma! I'm going now!" I rushed down the stairs excitedly.

"Oh Jun dear, come here." Grandma spread her arms wide and I was enveloped in her arms. "I know you'll do well at Totsuki. Don't let them look down on you alright?"

"Of course Grandma, my cooking skills are top of the top," I fluffed my shoulders proudly. "Well, the train is departing soon, so I will get going. I'll miss you."

I hopped on the train for Tokyo, and slept the entire ride there.

When I finally reached Tokyo Station, I had to find the Totsuki Culinary Academy. 'Gah, I'm the worst with directions.' I barely managed to make heads and tails of the map that I was given. As I was trying to comprehend the map, I lost sight of where I was going and accidentally bumped into someone.

"Ah, I'm so sorry!" I immediately apologized in my accent, "I should've paid more attention."

"Tch another dimwit. Just get out of my way," the salmon haired boy wearing a school uniform blazer that I had bumped into huffed and went on his way.

"Hmph, how rude," I brushed off the dust on my shoulder. I returned trying to comprehend the map, 'Gah, I'm never gonna get there.' Then I sensed someone behind me, so I turned around and found a blue haired girl dressed in a similar school uniform as the boy who I bumped into.

"I'm sorry for earlier, he's is in a bad mood today. Can I help you with anything? I'm Mizuhara by the way."

"Oh, do you know where Totsuki Culinary School is? I just transferred and I'm terrible with directions"

Mizuhara raised her eyebrows in amusement, "Why yes, there's actually a bus you can take there." She pointed at one of the buses, "If you ride on that one, it will take you straight to campus."

"Thank you so much!"

With newfound direction, I shortly arrived at Totsuki. The campus was HUGE; it was never like anything I'd ever seen before. I guess this is the rich kid's life.

Surprisingly, I found my way to the dorm I was assigned to: the Polar Star Dorm. It was a bit secluded from the rest of the campus, but it gave off home-like vibes.

As soon as I stepped into the dorm, I was faced with a relatively old lady, who called herself Fumio-san. She informed me that I had to cook something that met her standards in order to get a room at the dormitory. "Wa, since when did you have to do that?" I questioned.

"It says so on the dorm assignment papers."

I frantically looked at the papers and lo and behold, in small font, it read: 'must pass a cooking test'

I heaved a big sigh, I might really be a dimwit. I should pay attention to small details more often. Luckily, I had arrived fairly early in the evening, so I was able to buy some ingredients to cook a special Japanese dish that I always made at home.

(Fumio POV)

I watched as the girl cooked. My eyes widened in awe as I watched how she carried herself in the kitchen: quick and definite. She made no unnecessary movements and I didn't sense an ounce of hesitation in her cooking style. She may be a bit clumsy and dimwitted on the outside, but once in the kitchen, she's as skillful as any professional

"Please taste it," Juno presented her dish. Her eyes shone with pure confidence.

I took a bite out of the eel she prepared and I felt as if I was trapped in the story she conveyed through both the eel and the rice. I could taste the hours of hard work and skills she honed to produce this dish. I was entranced.

"Ishikawa Juno, you pass" I decided.

"Uwaa really?! Thank goodness," she breathed a sigh of relief. "I was initially going to buy salmon but I mistakenly got eel instead ahaha"

'How does one even mix up those two?' I wondered in shock. "You sure are weird. Here," I handed her a room key, "Room 245 is yours, now shoo"

(Ishikawa Juno POV)

I took the room key with a smile and headed up to my designated room to take a much needed rest.

For the first two days of classes at Totsuki, I had made a name for myself as the most clueless and clumsiest first-year with a heavy countryside accent. They even assumed that I would get expelled as soon as I took a practical cooking class.

On the third day, I headed to my first practical cooking class overseen by Chapelle-sensei.

Murmurs and whispers filled the kitchen.

"Look it's the first-year klutz."

"Did you hear her accent?"

"I can barely understand it."

"I bet she'll get an E rating from Chapelle-sensei."

A bit humiliated, I walked to an empty table next to a girl with long brown hair that was tied up in a side-braid and blue-ish purple eyes, praying that she wouldn't make fun of me.

"Alright, settle down class. Let's begin the session," Chapelle-sensei raised his voice.

As Chapelle-sensei rambled on to introduce the recipe we were going to recreate, my mind wandered. "His face is always so grouchy. Does he ever smile?"

"I know right, he looks like he's hangry all the time," the girl beside me noted.

I chuckled in response, "Ha, hangry, that's a good way to describe it." Then I froze, "Wait, did I just speak my thoughts out loud?"

"You sure did," the girl grinned in amusement. "I'm Inui Hinako, nice to meet you Jun."

"I have provided each of you with the recipe for a classic Bouillabaisse, a seafood stew. Please work together with the person at your table to recreate the recipe. You have three hours."

"I feel bad for that girl who has to work with that klutz"

"Heh, we can finally see that country bum fail at cooking. There's no way that she knows how to cook French cuisine."

I began to hear the same belittling whispers behind my back. Then I felt someone slap my back; it was Hinako. "Don't let them get to you, Jun. Let's divide the tasks first."

With a surge of confidence, Hinako and I began cooking the dish that Chapelle-sensei required. While I was cooking, I sensed that a few of my classmates stopped to watch me in awe as I prepped the shrimp and the rest of the dish smoothly and quickly. You could say that French cooking is my specialty. It was pretty simple once you get the hang of it; luckily, French cuisine was the first that I had taught myself back at home, so everything was second nature. Soon, Hinako and I finished plating the food and we brought it up to Chapelle-sensei.

"Oh? Finished already?" he asked, surprised. He took a taste and her facial expression relished in joy. "Magnificent, you pass with flying colors."

My eyes brightened in glee as I looked at Hinako who was grinning widely. "We did it Jun!"

After meeting in Chapelle-sensei's class, Hinako and I had become close friends. She introduced me to one of her friends, Donato Gotoda, another first-year of French descent. When he spoke Japanese, he also had an accent like me, so we also became friends quickly. Additionally, Hinako offered to teach me how to speak Japanese like Tokyo natives do during our free time.

A few months pass by and I've been more recognized at school for my cooking. Strangely enough, I've made a new name for myself as the "Silent Minstrel." It was kind of contradicting, but apparently it was because I was known to be competent and silent in the kitchen, speaking my cooking into existence like a story.

On another note, Hinako, Donato and I try our hardest to survive the school year. We successfully returned from the Camp from Hell and got passing marks in all our classes. Our next challenge would be the most interesting yet: the Autumn Elections.