Moe Moe Kyun

A gulp.

My specialty vanished into Tsuki's Mother's mouth. Stir-fried kimchi ramen, as I liked to call it.

I'd cooked it constantly back when I was living on my own in my last life, so I had plenty of confidence. Whether it would charm a master of Japanese cuisine was another question entirely.

I swallowed. Nerves, probably — saliva had been pooling in my mouth for a while now.

Chew. Chew. Chew.

The longer she chewed, the deeper the crease between Tsuki's Mother's brows became.

Another swallow. The food finally went down.

And unlike every round before this one, she said nothing at all. She reached out, grabbed the water glass on the table, and drained it.

"Well. Thank you for the meal. As for the evaluation... I don't particularly want to say this to your face, but it was rather... the worst."

"...Excuse me? The w-worst?"

Harsh. That was my pride-and-joy bachelor meal from my last life. I actually used to enjoy it.

"It seems you can't quite accept my evaluation. Then please, have a taste yourself. See whether this even qualifies as a finished dish."

Tsuki's Mother drew a fresh spoon and held it out to me. I took it, scooped up a bite of stir-fried kimchi ramen, and sent it straight into my mouth.

Chew. Chew. Chew.

Huh? This is good, though?

The first thing that hit me was the hot sauce — a little tangy, fiercely spicy. Then the kimchi and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thoroughly cooked vegetables lit up my palate. And last of all, the ramen itself, seasoned through with that spicy mustard, tied the whole thing together.

"It's good, though?"

"I... I see. I understand. Kuro's cooking skill, and her palate as well."

What was that?

She'd just put on the face of someone who had grasped the entire universe. I turned it over in my head, wondering if I'd said something strange.

My conclusion: no problem here.

The viewers, however, took one look at Tsuki's Mother's expression and dissolved into laughter.

"No, it really is good. I don't know what the problem is..."

"The fact that you don't know is precisely the problem. First, the vegetables. They're so overcooked that putting them in at all lost all meaning. And why did you add mustard while boiling the ramen?"

"Well... so the noodles would take on seasoning too."

Tsuki's Mother let out a short sigh and shook her head.

"It seems you'll need to learn the fundamentals of cooking while you're staying in our home. Your knife work is the strongest of the lot, at least, so if you simply develop an understanding of food, that should be enough."

"Ah.... Right."

I couldn't very well refuse. She was offering to help me cook, for my sake. There was no world in which I could say I didn't want to, that I only liked cooking once in a while — or, better yet, eating food someone else had made.

"Still... I feel like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd be taking up your time. I'm sorry..."

"Don't worry about that. I already decided to take time off work for as long as all of you from Re:fresh are here. This kitchen would sit idle until then, and that would be no way to treat a kitchen."

"Ah... Right."

Put like that, there was no hole left to wriggle through.

"Kuro-chan. Just give up. Once Mom decides something, ordinary stubbornness won't budge her. That's why I ran—"

"Ran?"

"I mean... I left for Korea without a word so I could chase my dream!"

Tsuki pivoted hard, her face frozen stiff under her mother's icy tone.

"Anyway! It's Tsuki's turn now! Come on, Mom, judge it! It's packed with Tsuki's love and affection and justice!"

"Omurice, I see."

"Mhm mhm! It's omurice!"

Tsuki's omurice had only the egg on top. No ketchup for a sauce.

"Did you leave the ketchup off? Or is it a different sauce?"

"Of course! The sauce is this!"

She was holding a bottle of ketchup.

"Kuro-chan, over here."

"...Me?"

Still reeling from the shock, I barely had time to react before Tsuki grabbed my arm and dragged me in front of the omurice. Then she pulled a chair up beside her mother, sat down, and beamed.

"Maid-san~ Maid-san. The yummy-yummy spell with a heart drawing, onegai shimasu!"

"Hold on... why me."

I had no idea why Kumongdan was talking like this. Had Tsuki forgotten we were in the middle of a cooking contest? What was she doing?

"No, why would I? It's not even a mission on my stream. I don't want to. I'm not doing it."

"I really don't want to. Put a mission on my stream instead. Then I'll do it."

And on it went. Kumongdan kept stacking mission money with devout, methodical enthusiasm. The result:

A staggering twenty-three hundred dollars hung on the line.

"You want to see it that badly? Well... I suppose I have no choice. If that's what all of you want."

"All right. One moment."

I took the ketchup Tsuki held out and piped a heart onto the omurice, careful not to wreck the shape.

"Ahem. Then I'll begin."

I could have faked ignorance and phoned the whole Moe Moe Kyun thing in. But Kumongdan already knew I was a fan of Aruru. Claiming I didn't know the chant wouldn't fly — search Aruru on NewTube and the first related result was Moe Moe Kyun.

I shaped a heart with my hands and spoke at the same time.

"Ghk—!!"

Tsuki clutched her chest and collapsed straight onto the table.

"There. Please eat."

I couldn't see my own face, but I didn't need to. The heat rolling off it was enough to tell me I'd gone a catastrophic shade of red.

"Phew... it's hot."

While I fanned my face, Tsuki's Mother tasted Tsuki's cooking.

"Mm... this is the omurice I always eat. A taste that's faithful to the basics. It makes all those years of making her cook feel worthwhile. I'll announce the results now."

The chair scraped. Tsuki's Mother rose, keeping her expression as even as she could manage even after what I'd just done.

"Second place is Tsuki. It's a flavor I eat often, so it's familiar. Put another way, there's nothing special about it."

"Hiiing... but Jiwoo-chan did the Moe Moe Kyun, so it was the most delicious thing in the whole world!"

"That has nothing whatsoever to do with the taste."

The answer was cold enough to frost over, and Tsuki shrank a little.

"Third place is Jina. While you're here, Jina, I'll teach you how to grill meat properly as well."

"Y-yes! Thank you!"

That left Luna and me. I had a pretty good idea how this was going.

"So I win, then."

"First place is Luna. And fourth place is Kuro. That concludes the cooking contest. Well done, everyone."

Tsuki's Mother bowed to us and to the viewers, then left the kitchen.

"All right, then we'll taste what's left and clean up..."

That was when it happened.

Thud!

I turned toward the sound of something hitting something else.

"Hhk..."

There was Tsuki's Mother, clutching her chest where she'd walked into the wall.

"Is she all right?"

"Ah... she'll be fine. It's probably the same thing I had."

"The same thing?"

"Hehe, there's a reason. Come on, let's eat! Tsuki's hungry!"

I started toward her, worried, but Tsuki caught my arm. Even so, I didn't take my eyes off Tsuki's Mother. A moment later she was walking normally again, so she really did seem all right.

"Jiwoo-chan. Say aah~"

"On stream it's Kuro, not Jiwoo."

"Ah, I forgot. More importantly, hurry up — ahn~"

Tsuki held out a spoonful of the omurice she'd made herself.

Eat it? Don't eat it?

I hesitated only a second before checking chat. The consensus was unanimous: open your mouth already.

"Ahn~"

I opened, and the omurice landed on my tongue. The egg was cooked just right — soft — and the fried rice inside was just right too. Every chew, the vegetables and the grains of rice played off each other perfectly...

"It's good."

"Hehe, really? I'm so glad~"

It was incomparably better than any omurice I'd ever had. So this was why early education mattered?

I accepted that truth and kept eating every spoonful Tsuki fed me.