Wen Akagi, a student VTuber who loves travel and cooking as if they were the same thing, casually asks his viewers during a late-night stream what the ideal travel partner would be. The chat floods with jokes. But the next morning, a DM arrives from Mikoto, a flashy gyaru streamer at his school. She claims she seriously wants to learn to cook and travel with him. Wen, suspicious, agrees to meet at a local market. Instead of one guest, however, Haruto, Mikoto's childhood friend who is hopelessly
A Second Toast to an Unfinished Journey - A Big Fight at the Water's Edge, and My Great-Grandfather's Secret Ingredient
The morning fishing port was thick with the smell of the tide.
The four who had left the Minpaku Namima stopped at the edge of Kamome Square. Every gust of sea wind tousled their hair. The sky was veiled in thin clouds, and the sun glowed a hazy white.
"Today's the day I really give it my all with the diner prep!"
Mikoto thrust both hands into the air. Her fluffy gyaru-maki hair swayed in the wind. The star-shaped hairpin on her left ear glinted dully.
"You said the exact same thing yesterday, and all you did was mess around on your phone."
Haruto furrowed his brow. The tips of his buzzed black hair were damp from the sea breeze.
"That was stream prep, I told you! Geez, Haru, you're so nitpicky."
"Making noise is all well and good, but let's head to the Shiokaze Diner first. Sana-san is waiting."
Rena spoke in a quiet voice. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a single ponytail, and she held the knife roll at her hip with one hand. Her eyes were utterly serious.
"Yeah. Sana-chan said she's been drawing the dashi since early morning."
Wen rolled the wooden spoon pendant at his neck between his fingers as he looked up at the slope beyond the fishing port.
(I have to do something about that diner.)
Yesterday, he had watched Taiga sink the signboard into the sea. That image was still burned into the back of his eyes.
The four began walking.
In the port, a few small fishing boats rocked on the waves. Fishermen stowing their nets were visible in the distance. Two seagulls crossed overhead, crying in low voices.
Before long, the old wooden building of the Shiokaze Diner came into view.
The noren curtain was still down. But from the kitchen window, a thin wisp of white steam rose into the air.
"Ah, that's the smell of dashi."
Wen twitched his nose. The soft, deep fragrance of kombu and katsuobushi. Mixed with it was something nostalgic, almost sweet.
"...This aroma."
Rena narrowed her eyes.
"What about the dashi? Let's just get inside already."
Haruto took the lead and reached for the diner's sliding door.
With a clatter, the door slid open.
Sana poked her head out from the kitchen. Her dull black bob was tied back in a small knot. She wore a white kappogi apron, and in her hand was a wooden rice paddle.
"Good morning. You're all here early."
Sana's voice had a slight bounce to it. It was different from the subdued air she'd had up until yesterday.
"Morning! Sana-chan, you're cute as always today!"
Mikoto ran up to Sana and clasped both her hands.
"Eh, ah, th-thank you..."
Sana's cheeks flushed faintly.
"Sana-san, this morning's dashi has kombu and katsuobushi, and... something sweet in the aroma. Is it dried shiitake?"
Rena asked Sana with a serious expression.
"You can tell? Yes, my great-grandfather's recipe says to add just a little dried shiitake."
Sana's eyes went wide.
"I see. A depth of sweetness that kombu and katsuobushi alone cannot produce... Impressive, Sana-san."
Rena breathed in the aroma of the dashi with a rapturous expression.
"Rena-chan, you really turn into a different person when it comes to dashi."
Mikoto laughed brightly.
"Hey, Wen. I'm gonna go down to the beach for a bit."
Haruto suddenly spoke up.
"The beach? Why?"
Wen tilted his head.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm gonna catch the phantom fish."
Haruto said it with a dead serious face.
"The phantom fish... is it in the waters around Shiohama?"
"How should I know! But this town has a legend. Whoever catches a fish that glows blue gets their wish granted."
Haruto's eyes were blazing.
"Haru, you've never even gone fishing before. You don't even know how to hold a reel."
Mikoto said it with exasperation.
"Shut up! I can do it if I try! I'm gonna catch the phantom fish and then I'll... to you..."
Haruto cut himself off. His face turned redder by the second.
"To me? What? Go on, say it."
Mikoto grinned mischievously, peering into Haruto's face.
"N-nothing! Anyway, I'm going to the beach!"
Haruto shouted, then bolted out of the diner as if fleeing.
"Same as always, that Haru."
Mikoto said with a laugh.
"But I like that straightforward side of Haruto-kun."
Wen said it while watching Haruto's retreating back.
"Huh? Wen, you like Haru?"
Mikoto blinked rapidly.
"No no, as a person. That wholehearted earnestness of his, I think it's great."
Wen shook his head with a smile.
"Wen-sensei. I also like that side of your character."
Rena said it with a straight face.
"Eh, ah, thanks..."
Wen scratched his head, slightly embarrassed.
"Hey, Rena-chan! What do you mean just casually saying you like him!"
Mikoto closed in on Rena.
"I merely stated a fact. I don't need your permission."
Rena replied coolly.
"I'm Wen's partner, you know!"
"No, that would be me. Someone who can't even make dashi isn't qualified."
"Dashi dashi dashi, that's all you ever say! Cooking isn't just about dashi!"
"Dashi is everything. Those who lack fundamentals are second-rate."
The two's argument echoed through the diner.
"Ahh... here we go again..."
Wen let out a sigh.
"...Fufu."
Sana covered her mouth and laughed.
"Sana-chan?"
"Everyone really gets along so well. Watching you all makes me feel warm inside."
Sana said it with a soft smile.
Seeing that smile, the weight in Wen's chest lightened just a little.
(Right. I want to protect that smile.)
Wen picked up an apron.
"Alright, then I'll make us some makanai too. You're all hungry, right?"
"Yay! Wen's cooking!"
"I'll be learning from you."
"I'll help too."
The three voices overlapped.
Wen stood in the kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator. The ingredients he'd bought with Sana yesterday were lined up inside. Daikon radish, carrots, tofu, aburaage. And the horse mackerel they'd just bought at the port.
"Today, let's do horse mackerel miso soup and simmered daikon. And tamagoyaki too."
Wen placed the horse mackerel on the cutting board.
He gripped the knife.
(This feeling. It's been a while.)
Yesterday, he hadn't been able to cook properly. Taiga's words wouldn't leave his head.
"Old flavors have no value."
Those words had made the knife feel heavy in his hand.
But now, it was different.
He had seen Sana's smile. Heard Mikoto's bright voice. Felt Rena's serious gaze.
(Cooking exists for people.)
(I want everyone to eat something delicious.)
Wen took a deep breath.
He slid the knife into the belly of the horse mackerel.
Shhk.
A satisfying sound.
"Whoa, you're so quick!"
Mikoto clapped.
"Such fluid knife work... As expected, Wen-sensei."
Rena watched intently, as if devouring the sight.
"Akagi-san, you really are skilled at cooking."
Sana said it with admiration.
"This much is normal. Here, Mikoto, want to try cracking an egg?"
Wen held out an egg to Mikoto.
"Eh! Me!? No way, I'll get shell in it!"
Mikoto waved both hands frantically.
"It's fine, just take it slow. Here, tap it lightly against the edge."
Wen took Mikoto's hand and guided it to crack the egg against the rim of the bowl.
Crack.
"Ah, I did it! No shell got in!"
Mikoto shouted happily.
"See? You can do it if you try."
Wen smiled.
"That might be the first time I've ever cracked an egg! Oh my god, I'm so happy!"
Mikoto bounced up and down.
"I'll help with something as well."
Rena picked up a knife.
"You cut the daikon. Even thickness, got it?"
Wen said it with a craftsman's face.
"Understood. Leave it to me."
Rena placed the daikon on the cutting board.
Tap tap tap...
A rhythmic sound echoed through the kitchen.
"Rena-chan, your knife sounds like a pro's..."
Mikoto's eyes went wide.
"This much is only natural. It's the fundamentals."
Rena continued cutting the daikon without pause.
(These two really have completely different approaches to cooking.)
Wen smiled wryly as he continued preparing the miso soup.
After a while, the diner filled with the aroma of dashi and miso.
"It smells so good! I'm starving!"
Mikoto said as she set chopsticks on the table.
"Almost done. Sana-chan, can you get the bowls?"
"Yes, of course."
Sana took bowls from the shelf.
That was when it happened.
"Well now... looks like you're all having quite a good time."
A low voice came from the diner's entrance.
Wen's hands stopped.
He turned to see a man in a suit leaning against the sliding door. Masaki. That shady man who called himself a real estate broker.
"What do you want?"
Sana's voice hardened instantly.
"Oh, nothing much. I was just passing by and caught a delicious smell, so I thought I'd take a peek."
Masaki smiled amiably as he stepped into the diner.
"You have no right to enter this place. Please leave."
Rena stood in Masaki's path, still holding her knife.
"Oh my, how frightening. You're the chef who came from the mountains, aren't you? Pointing a knife at people... I don't think that's what a chef should be doing."
Masaki raised both hands and shrugged exaggeratedly.
"What did you come here for!"
Mikoto stood in front of Wen and glared at Masaki.
"Now now, no need to be so hostile. I've come to deliver some useful information to you all."
Masaki pulled a single sheet of paper from the inner pocket of his suit.
"What do you think this is? It's an evaluation of your cooking, gathered from the residents of Shiohama."
Masaki waved the paper back and forth.
"The residents'... evaluation?"
Wen's chest stirred uneasily.
"That's right. Taiga-kun conducted a survey of the townspeople for me. The results are all summarized here."
Masaki held the paper out in front of Wen's face.
Wen took it.
The handwritten survey results were crammed densely onto the page.
"Wen's cooking is old-fashioned and tastes bad."
"It only looks good on stream. In reality, it's nothing special."
"Nobody wants that kind of flavor."
"Some city brat has no right to lecture us about country cooking."
"That man is defiling the Shiokaze Diner's flavors."
Dozens of anonymous comments lined the page.
The color drained from Wen's face.
His fingertips went cold.
(It's a lie.)
(It has to be a lie.)
His head knew that.
But deep in his heart, those words echoed.
"Old flavors have no value."
Taiga's voice.
"Your cooking only looks good on stream."
Masaki's voice.
The two voices spun round and round in his head.
"Your cooking only looks good on stream. It's nothing more than a tool for racking up video views. The locals don't actually want to eat your food at all."
Masaki whispered it into Wen's ear.
"Stop it! Don't you put weird ideas in Wen's head!"
Mikoto shoved Masaki away.
"Whoops, my apologies. I was merely stating the facts. Well then, I'll be off. I have a meeting with Taiga-kun."
With that, Masaki left the diner.
The four left behind, plus Sana, were speechless for a long moment.
"Wen-sensei. It's alright. You don't need to pay any mind to what a man like that says."
Rena peered into Wen's face.
"Yeah! You don't have to believe a word that shady old man says!"
Mikoto grabbed Wen's arm tightly.
"Akagi-san. I truly think your cooking is delicious. So..."
Sana said it with tears welling in her eyes.
But.
No one's voice reached Wen's ears.
(My cooking...)
(Doesn't make anyone happy...)
(It's just a fake that looks good on stream...)
Wen looked down at the knife in his hand.
His hand trembled.
Clatter.
The knife fell to the floor.
"Wen!?"
Mikoto screamed.
Wen crouched down on the spot.
(No good.)
(I can't grip the knife.)
(My hand won't move.)
His fingertips were cold and rigid, as if they no longer belonged to him.
"...Sorry. I can't do this today."
Wen muttered, then stood up unsteadily.
"Wait! Wen! Where are you going!"
Mikoto clung to Wen's back.
"...Just going to get some fresh air."
Wen gently removed Mikoto's hands.
Then he left the diner.
Behind him, he could hear Mikoto crying.
But he couldn't turn back.
---
That night.
In the guest room of Minpaku Namima, the four sat in heavy silence.
"Wen, I believe in you, okay? I know better than anyone that your cooking is the most deli
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