"If I go to a Culinary School away from home, the shop will have to close for a while... well, Grandma can still open shop a few times a week, but I'll be worried..."

Grandma Kiyo laughed.

"Don't just laugh!" Fumi pouted, "I'm worried about leaving the Yukihira Diner to Nee-chan too..."

"It's fine, the people in this Shopping District have iron stomachs after all."

"Jou-san, you shut up."

Laughing dryly, Jouichirou served up a plate of yakisoba for the customer, proceeding quickly into the next order.

Jouichirou had taken to visiting the shop every few months, (whenever he was in Japan, really. Apparently he's worried about the customers if they always had to eat Tamako's cooking,) and eventually, he assimilated into the kitchen.

He was a great, awesome cook. No one could deny his presence in the kitchen, not even Tamako who at first declared that the kitchen was 'her territory'.

Jouichirou and Fumi made a quick pair in their free time, though he spent the most time trying to salvage Tamako's creations.

And just like that, months turned into quick years, and they grew closer. They learned more things about each other.

Then Tamako and Jouichirou became an item and Fumi saw the gears of history turn.

He wasn't too sure how to feel when they finally exchanged vows under the veil. It had been a beautiful day with the sun, but a rainy day in his heart.

Their rings matched, shining a beautiful silver against the moonlight.

(Sometimes, Fumi raised his hands to the moon, and for a moment he almost sees it. He sees the ring she used to wear, that hurt her so much.)

(The pain was so great, the hole was even in Fumi's heart.)

(Oh, to the almighty, all-powerful god above, I pray that you bless their marriage, that their love will run like the river, ever-flowing, ever-lasting, forever.)

-

Fumi watched every step of them growing closer. Their bond was built on the foundation known as cooking-- a pure and solid love between crazy cooks for on two ends of a spectrum. And somehow, Fumi didn't hate it too much.

Okay, scratch that. He hated it.

"Jou-san, can you stop stealing Nee-chan from me?!" Clinging onto Tamako's neck, Fumi glared at Jouichirou, who blinked back as if he were confused.

Jouichirou laughed good-naturedly at that, "kids like you should just go into the corner and eat cake," he said snidely.

"Adults like you should just scram and go make a living," Fumi hissed back.

Sparks of war flared between them, and Tamako almost wondered what on earth she'd done to deserve being in the center of these two. Were they fighting over her? Seriously?

"Both of you can just go in the corner and have a five minute time-out," she declared.

"But Tamako!" Jouichirou whined at the same time Fumi wailed with "but Nee-chan!"

Syncing, they glared at each other for a long second before 'hmph'ing off into separate corners of reflection.

The customers laughed, because it was just another rambunctious day at Yukihira's, nothing out of the ordinary.

-

Tomorrow would be the day Fumi left for Tootsuki Culinary Academy.

At the fresh age of twelve going into thirteen, and for the first time in this life, Fumi was leaving the Sumiredoori Shopping District.

He didn't have many things to begin with. The Middle School Division didn't have any Entrance Exams, so he got in easily. He got the uniform already, and other than casual wear for the dorms he had virtually nothing to pack.

(Then, he was shoved a bunch of ingredients and cooking utensils along with a picture frame or three, and his bag was too full for comfort.)

He'd spent his last day baking, then exchanging goodbyes with the shopowners (who cried like he was moving overseas but he was going to just smile and pretend he wasn't hearing the 'please marry me instead of going' one-liners.)

"Hand this letter to the dorm mother when you see her," Jouichirou handed the boy two envelopes, "and the other one to any teachers that give you salt for anything."

Fumi stared at it.

The blue envelope with a star on the stamp side, that was for the Dorm Mother... the plain, more formal-looking envelope without any writings on the front, that was for the latter issue.

"What's this? Blackmail material?" he asked. "Can I burn it?"

"You're so not cute," Jouichirou said dryly.

Fumi smiled. "I'll try my best not to use the second one," he assured the man. "I need to be able to solve problems on my own from now on, after all."

He wasn't going to rely on the adults back at home from this-- he's leaving the nest, it's only natural that he becomes independent from now on. He's already thirteen!

Jouichirou patted him on the head, giving a fond sigh, "yeah, you do that."

Then Fumi turned the tables, "that aside, Jou-san! You better take care of Nee-chan while I'm gone!" he pointed at the much taller man, "if I come back and there's even a scratch on her you're banned from my bakery!"

"Oh, what a nightmare," Jouichirou deadpanned.

"I'm being serious here!"

Jouchirou laughed heartily, "I'll protect her with my life! Or so I want to say, but she can literally throw hands with a bear and bring it home as dinner by herself, so I think she'll be fine."

"Ah," Fumi could only say, "you're right."

It's funny to say that the boys are the weaker ones in this house.

-

"What're you two doing?"

Fumi found Uncle Yukihira and Tamako at the back of the restaurant, by the garden. A towel over her shoulders and some weird-smelling stuff in Uncle Yukihira's hands, they sat at the veranda, chatting.'

"Dad's bleaching my hair," she told him, very informatively.

Tamako's hair was always a strange thing. It's not as if Fumi could see it, but her roots were always prominent. Like a lily on her head, deep brown spreading out into ash blonde locks.

"Don't you usually do it at the salon, though?" Fumi asked, sitting down beside her and inspecting the strange white cream. It stinks.

"Sometimes, but not always," Tamako told him, "and if I leave it to Nanamin all the time, she'd do weird things to my hair."

"I personally thought the curls were beautiful though, best week of my life," Fumi said snidely.

"I'm never falling asleep on the chair again," Tamako hissed.

"Enough fooling around, kids, it's going to be uneven," Uncle Yukihira chastised them, and they sat up straight in alarm. Even Fumi.

"Why don't you ever bleach it fully, though?" Fumi asked, "not that it isn't cool like this."

"I just like it that way," Tamako said, "some people do partial dyes too, right? Uh, what are they called..."

"Highlights?" Fumi filled in.

"Yeah, whatever."

They shared a laugh.

Fumi had never really questioned it anyways-- it just didn't quite matter. But for their last day together before he left for school, this was fine. Just the normal dumb bickering, meaningless chatter, and nothing important he had to miss.

"You wanna try it, Fumi?" Uncle Yukihira suddenly suggested, a cheeky grin on his face.

"That sounds interesting!" Tamako piped up, "blond Fumi!"

Fumi felt his life in danger.

-

"I think it looks weird," he said bitterly, reflexively reaching for his hair.

"I think it looks awesome!" Tamako was proud of her word, and Uncle Yukihira was getting pats on the back for a job well done.

Fumi's hair was, after a few hours of their consistent pampering, a strange blend of blond hair and brown roots. Just like Tamako.

Jouichirou burst into laughter at the scene.

"One last souvenir before you go, huh?" he had the gall to joke, "but it doesn't look too bad, you stand out more now!"

"I don't want to stand out."

Jouichirou, like the evil monster he was, found inherent joy at Fumi's expense.

"It's like I'm having my Middle School debut, I'm not a chuuni, c'mon," Fumi whined, "suddenly showing up with dyed hair and everything, what if they think I'm a country bumpkin trying too hard?"

"It's fine, it suits you," Jouichirou assured him, "maybe someone will show up with pink hair or something, you never know."

"In what universe would anyone dye their hair pink?" Fumi was near tears by now, "that stuff only happens in anime!"

(Later, when Fumi met Shinomiya Kojirou, he would dryly remind himself that after all, with his reincarnation in mind, things in anime do in fact happen.)

Fumi's last day at home before his first day was loud and noisy. Full of teasing, last-minute changes, and messy situations he had no idea how he even got himself into. It was all so dumb but he couldn't help but love it all the same.

It was just like them to send him off with a smile.