The Cooking Showdown

A large ramen—five extra servings of chashu and noodles, plus a side of gyoza. After demolishing lunch, I had to get ready for tonight's schedule.

Which was, of course—

"Grocery shopping!"

Tonight was the Re:fresh Cup cooking contest. You can't cook without ingredients, so we stopped at a big supermarket on the way back.

"Whoa... that's cheap?"

Korean grocery prices had been shooting through the roof with zero fear of heaven, but Japanese vegetables were surprisingly affordable.

"It's just the vegetables, though. Everything else is about the same as Korea."

"Well... that's not a problem, right? As long as we don't go for the really expensive stuff."

"Oh my? Please, don't worry about me. Buy as much as you like."

We had to work hard to talk Tsuki's mother out of covering the entire grocery bill. Tsuki chiming in from the side, telling us not to be polite about it, didn't make things any easier. In the end, Tsuki's mother nodded first and stepped back.

"It's settled, then! Let's go, Jiwoo-chan!"

Tsuki hooked her arm through mine and dragged me off somewhere, a shopping basket already swinging from her other hand. Anyone watching us would have taken us for close sisters—even though we didn't look anything alike.

"Hey, Tsuki? The meat's over that way."

"Nope! We'll just grab vegetables and some snacks here. We're buying the meat somewhere else. There's a butcher we always go to!"

She was born and raised in Japan, so I figured I should trust her on this.

"Yeah? Then pick out some really good meat. I'm making my special tonight."

"Jiwoo-chan's special! I love it!"

Tsuki wiped her mouth with her sleeve... or at least, I think it was just a gesture. There was a suspicious little damp spot on the fabric.

"So what's the special? Just whisper it to Tsuki. Pretty please?"

"No can do. Everyone has to be on equal footing. We'll all eat together later, but don't forget—you're my opponent too."

"Ah... I forgot."

She gave herself a little bonk on the head, all cute about it, and I couldn't help smiling. Yeah. That was Tsuki's brand of adorable. We messaged each other all the time when we gamed on stream, but there was a world of difference between a VTuber avatar moving and the real person moving.

"Why are you staring at Tsuki's face like that? Don't tell me... ah, we can't... we haven't even had our wedding night yet... and the ceremony hasn't happened..."

"What are you even talking about?"

Wedding night? Ceremony? What was any of that supposed to mean?

"Mmm... there are reasons! Jiwoo-chan doesn't need to know yet!"

"Uh... okay, sure."

Apparently she had no intention of elaborating. She whipped her head away.

That was when I spotted Jina waving from farther down the aisle.

"Jiwoo! Over here! They've got that bread you said you really wanted to try!"

"Bread?!"

The kinds of bread I'd been dying to try weren't just one or two. There was the Japanese-style castella with sugar crystals that crunched between your teeth, the limited-edition buns with character stickers inside, and I'd wanted to try the pudding too.

"This is it, right? The bread you said you wanted."

"Ah... this one."

Calling it bread was a stretch—it was closer to a manju dessert. Bite-sized, which meant you could sneak it out of your pocket and eat it on the sly. The filling was packed with cream that melted into custard on your tongue. And it was shaped like a cute little chick, to boot.

"I only mentioned it once, and you remembered. Thank you."

"Of course I did. I'm even here because of you. You were the one who talked me into it. If anyone should be grateful, it's me."

Jina looked a little embarrassed and turned her head, pretending to be interested in something else. I snorted a laugh.

"We're definitely buying these."

I dropped them in the basket and turned back toward the vegetables—

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

Tsuki was standing there with her cheeks puffed out like an angry squirrel.

"Don't be like that. You're the one escorting me around here, remember?"

"Huh?"

"What are you standing around for? Come on."

"Huh...? Okay!"

I gave her a gentle nudge in the back, and just like that, Tsuki was smiling again as we finished shopping.

"Jiwoo-chan? What exactly are you planning?"

Tsuki stared at the riot of colorful vegetables in my basket in horror. Carrots, bell peppers, paprika—if it had a color, I'd grabbed it.

"Hmm... still not enough color? For yellow... yeah, mustard too."

"Mustard? Like, to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drizzle on top? No—if it's Jiwoo-chan, she's got a plan."

Tsuki decided to just believe that.

The moment we went live, people started pouring in one after another.

We blew past five hundred in no time. At this pace, we could crack a thousand before the main event even started.

"That's a stretch. On a solo stream, maybe. But we're simulcasting on NewTube too. The audience gets split, so even if a thousand people are actually watching, the counter'll only show six or seven hundred."

"Ah... that's a shame."

Still, I believed. If it was our fans, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they'd push hard enough to clear a thousand without breaking a sweat.

"All right, we're starting. Everyone gather up."

At Yuwol's call, those of us who'd scattered to check the kitchen came back together. I was supposed to be the leader, but looking at how things actually ran, Yuwol was the one doing the job.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I just really like watching you do this."

"...Ah. Right. You're the leader, Jiwoo. And here I was acting like it."

"Nooo, I'm perfectly comfortable thanks to you. It lets me focus on my own stream, and it doesn't mess with anyone else's schedule."

Besides, Hoyeon seemed to think of Yuwol as the leader more than she did me anyway.

"Anyway, let's start. Mic on, please."

At my request, the camera director shooting us flashed an okay sign, and the mics lit up.

"Hello, everyone! Peace to all. We're Re:fresh!"

We opened with the greeting and kicked off the stream.

On Chzzk, all of us were streaming, and with NewTube on top of that, five broadcasts were running out of one place. Each personal stream was set up at its own cooking station, while the NewTube stream had a camera roaming around, filming all of us.

No faces, of course. And if a face did slip in, it would only be mine.

"As the title already says, today's collab is—a cooking contest! The theme: each of us makes two dishes we're most confident in. And here's the question!"

Who's going to be judging?

Secret or not, the truth was we all already knew. The members' faces had slipped onto personal SNS streams more times than anyone could count. Hoyeon told us to be careful every single time, but once we actually got together and started hanging out, we'd forget and let it leak anyway. Anyone who was going to know already knew our faces.

"Shh. Even if you all know, you know to play along, right?"

Thankfully, sharp-eyed Hoyeon snuffed the chat out fast. After that it was nothing but "lmao fr" scrolling by, which made it a lot easier to keep going.

"Nobody guessed the judge's identity, so—time to reveal the answer! The judge is... drumroll, please!!"

I slapped my thighs to build the tension.

I was the only one building tension. The fans were just swallowing hard, staring at my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bouncing chest and thighs.

"Judge! Please come out!"

I swept my hand to the side, and the camera moved with it, landing on the judge.

An elegant woman who carried herself with unmistakable grace. The traditional Japanese yukata she wore, and the delicate embroidery worked into the fabric, only lifted her beauty another notch.

The fans were all thrown by a guest nobody had seen coming. Mmm. Good. This was the reaction I'd wanted. I'd been just as stunned when I first heard who she was—I wasn't about to be the only one taking that hit.

"Then, Judge! Please tell us the judging criteria you value most!"

"My standards are not particularly high. I will simply evaluate how much care you devoted to the ingredients, how thoroughly you analyzed them, and how complete the finished dish is."

"Uh... so those are the criteria, then?"

"Yes."

Hey. This is not a laughing matter.