Chocolate brownies.
Perfectly square, with sides about ten centimeters long.
At first glance, the surface gleams with a rich chocolate color, exuding an air of elegance and nobility. Yet, the truth is astonishing—there is no chocolate in it. The deep brown hue comes from an unexpected ingredient: rice bran.
Its smooth texture, evenly distributed color, and meticulous presentation make it indistinguishable from a high-quality chocolate dessert. Even the delicate layers beneath the glossy surface suggest a decadent richness, compelling and irresistible.
Without being told, no one would believe that such a luxurious brownie was made from something as humble as rice bran.
Erina certainly wouldn't have.
And yet—
She wants to believe it.
She wants to taste it.
A quiet anticipation builds in her chest as she lifts a piece to her lips.
Then, she takes a bite.
Like the dishes before it, the original ingredient vanishes without a trace. There is no grainy texture, no bitterness, no rough sensation from the rice bran.
Only the smooth, velvety richness of chocolate.
Unconsciously, Erina loses herself in the experience.
The brownie is soft yet substantial, its dense interior melting effortlessly on her tongue. Hidden within is a luscious chocolate sauce, oozing slightly with warmth, accompanied by crunchy nuts that add a perfect contrast of texture.
Silky. Crunchy. Warm. Sweet.
A perfect harmony of flavors and sensations, layered with depth and indulgence.
Oh, this is… irresistible!
"Burp~"
A delicate sound escapes before she can stop it.
Erina freezes.
Wait.
Did she just… burp?
She blinks, momentarily dazed, then instinctively covers her mouth. A flush of pink spreads across her cheeks, her usual composed demeanor shattering in an instant.
"I… I feel full?"
The realization hits her like a shockwave.
And worse—
She had let out a burp because of it.
The elegance of the Nakiri name. The dignity of the God Tongue.
Tarnished in an instant!
Watching from the side, Rindō lets out a quiet chuckle, swirling her cup of sake.
"Incredible," she muses.
Even among the world's most skilled chefs, few—if any—could satisfy Erina with simple, inexpensive ingredients.
Yet, Zane had done it.
Rindō's gaze drifts toward the table. The three Western fast food dishes, once untouched, are now completely gone.
Not a single crumb remains.
Even after witnessing Zane's culinary prowess firsthand, she still finds it hard to believe. Could any chef truly conquer the God Tongue with such basic ingredients?
It seemed impossible.
After all, Erina's ability wasn't just a heightened sense of taste. The God Tongue was an instinct, an unparalleled gift that allowed her to perceive flavors beyond human comprehension.
She didn't just taste food—she understood it.
Every element, every ingredient, every nuance of a dish was laid bare before her with a single bite.
That was the burden of her gift.
It gave her unparalleled insight and an almost supernatural ability to evaluate cuisine. She could step into the role of a chef and a customer, comprehending both perspectives with absolute clarity.
But at the same time—
This power made her quickly lose interest in everything.
No dish remained exciting for long. No meal was ever truly satisfying.
Over time, that boredom turned into disdain.
The more she tasted, the more disgusted she became with food itself.
That's why, in Rindō's eyes, Zane's challenge had seemed insurmountable.
Yet… he had done it.
The situation had unfolded in a way that defied all reason, shattering every expectation she held.
Honestly, after experiencing the butterfish fries, Erina didn't even need to taste the chocolate brownie.
She already knew.
No matter how many dishes Zane placed before her, the answer would always be the same.
And yet—
She couldn't stop.
She had to keep tasting.
Because each bite of Zane's food awakened something in her—a craving beyond mere hunger.
It was as if her very soul demanded to capture the fleeting brilliance of his flavors.
"Here."
A calm voice pulls her back to reality.
Zane sets down a cup of floral tea in front of her.
"This will help balance the sweetness from the brownie."
Erina blinks, momentarily thrown off by the simple gesture.
"Thank you…"
Her voice is softer than usual, almost hesitant.
She lifts the porcelain cup, examining the liquid inside.
The tea is a pale yellow, clear and inviting.
A gentle floral fragrance rises with the steam, carrying the delicate scent of jasmine.
Erina inhales deeply, her delicate nose catching the refined aroma.
Fresh.
Soothing.
Perfect.
With just a few breaths, she already feels her heart settling, the last remnants of excitement fading into tranquility.
Unconsciously, her eyes soften.
Slowly, under Zane's quiet gaze, she takes a sip.
The moment the tea touches her tongue, a refreshing coolness spreads through her body.
Smooth, with a faint natural sweetness, it glides effortlessly down her throat.
With each sip, the pure water carries the floral fragrance deeper into her senses, leaving behind a delicate interplay of jasmine and tea leaves.
Erina closes her eyes.
She can almost see it—
The fresh tea buds, meticulously processed in the height of spring.
Carefully dried, stored, and only brought out when the jasmine flowers bloom.
Traditional jasmine tea required three scenting processes, each taking an entire day.
A six- or seven-time scenting process would create a tea richer, sweeter, and more fragrant, but the effort would take nearly a month.
But this tea—
This delicate, lingering taste…
Could it be… the legendary nine-time scenting method?
Erina's fingers tighten around the cup as a wave of astonishment crashes over her.
At first, she had dismissed the tea Zane served as nothing more than a simple, well-brewed drink.
But now—
Now she realized the truth.
This was no ordinary tea.
This cup alone was a masterpiece, crafted with the same level of perfection as everything else Zane had presented.
Her gaze lifts toward him.
At that exact moment—
Zane looks at her, too.
Their eyes meet.
A second passes.
Then another.
And for some inexplicable reason—
Erina's heart skips a beat.
A strange, foreign sensation stirs within her, something unrecognizable yet undeniably there.
What… is this feeling?
The realization unsettles her.
Quickly, she averts her gaze, turning her head away as if trying to escape from something she doesn't yet understand.
But her flustered expression betrays her.
Something about Zane—
Something about his cooking—
Something about this entire experience—
Had shaken her.
And she didn't know why.