The kiln in the workshop was still faintly warm even as morning arrived. Hana retraced the events of last night as she walked down the corridor of the Mitsugetsu Tower—the lodging wing for participants on the fourth floor of the Kanro Palace. That strange smell. The lighting that swayed along the wall. She'd told herself it was her imagination, but even now in the morning, it still caught at the corner of her mind. Well, it didn't matter. Today was the first day of competition. Hana switched gears and headed toward the "Kneading Corridor" on the second floor. It was a long hallway lined with each participant's workshop. Her workshop number was twenty-three. That's what the male guide had said. The problem was—while listening to that explanation yesterday, Hana's mind had been running at nearly full capacity thinking about something else entirely. *Yakushoutsutsu*—an ancient technique of infusing the soul into ingredients through confectionery-making, affecting people's hearts and bodies—what even was that? The Confectioner's Council—composed of seven confectionery masters, the highest judging body of this competition—who were they exactly? If participants exceeded ninety days, they couldn't leave the Kanro Palace, was that really true? Everything seemed important, but because it all flowed in at once, the crucial "which way to turn and how" had completely slipped her mind. *(I think... turn left, then right at the dead end...?)* She turned left. Folded right at the dead end. Walked for a while. Another fork. *(Huh?)* Where was she? Hana stopped and pulled a map from her pocket. The guide had handed it to her yesterday. It showed each floor of the Kanro Palace in rough detail. Second floor was workshops, fourth floor was lodging, third floor was the council chamber... mm-hmm. As for her current location... *(... Eh?)* The map was upside down. She flipped it over. Right, she'd been walking in a completely different direction. Which meant she was currently—Hana looked up. Before her stood a heavy iron door. A small plaque was affixed to it: "Materials Storage (Basement Level 1)." She took a step back to leave when her nose stopped her. A smell was leaking from the gap in the door. Sweet. But not just sweet. Spice's pungency mixed in, the intensity of dried fruit mixed in, a depth like burnt honey mixed in—layering together into one complex fragrance. Her nose moved forward of its own accord. She grasped the door and pulled. *Giii*—a rusty sound. A dimly lit space opened up. Shelves covering the entire wall were packed with jars and bags. They seemed to be divided by section, with plaques reading "Section One: Ancient Ingredients," "Section Two: Spices," "Section Five: Japanese Confectionery Ingredients." This must be the materials storage that the Kanro Palace maintained for the competition. Hana slowly entered and began examining the jars on the shelves one by one. Dried dates, sugar crystals in shapes she'd never seen, a yellowish powder—wondering what this scent was, she cracked the lid open to smell it, and a cardamom-like pungency pierced through her nasal passages. "...Mm, cardamom-like. But slightly different. A bit more sweetness to it." A voice came from above. Hana jumped. On the upper shelf—near the ceiling, a tall figure was leaning against the edge of the shelf with one foot braced. About her age, or perhaps a bit older. Black hair tied back casually, white long-sleeved shirt, black pants. In their hands was a small jar, repeatedly opening it to smell, closing it, then reaching for another jar. Their eyes were serious. A faint crease between their brows, locked in a staring contest with the ingredients inside the jar. "Oh, there's someone here...?" Hana stepped back. In that instant, the figure noticed her presence. They turned around. Lost their balance. Their hand reaching to grab the shelf's edge knocked into the neighboring jar instead. And the empty wooden boxes stacked on the upper shelf all tilted at once. *Dododododo*—wooden boxes cascaded down like a waterfall. Both of them simultaneously covered their heads and curled up. Arms wrapped around their heads, knees bent to make themselves small, enduring the rain of boxes. *Don, don, kon, gasshan*—finally the last one rolled across the floor and stopped, and silence returned. In the dimly lit materials storage, the two of them sat on the floor side by side. Slowly raising their face, their eyes met. The other person burst out laughing first. Trying to suppress the sound, but failing, their shoulders shook. Hana laughed a few seconds later. It was funny, somehow relieving, and the laughter came before the fear. "...Sorry," Ren said. His voice was low and calm. "I snuck in too, so we're even," Hana replied. As they worked together to return the boxes to the shelves, the person—who introduced himself as Ren—finished his self-introduction with a single statement: "I came to eat everything delicious in the world." Hana froze while holding a box. *(... Eh?)* "Everything?" Hana asked. "Confections made from all ingredients across all time periods and all sections that I can possibly eat during this competition. That's my goal," Ren said. He said it with complete seriousness. Not a hint of joking in his expression. Hana was about to say "...You didn't come to win the competition?" as she returned the box to the shelf, but stopped. Ren had already moved on to explaining the next ingredient. "These are dates—dried fruit of the date palm. They provide sufficient sweetness even without sugar. In ancient Egypt, they were a primary sweetener. If you go to Section One, you can get fresh ones, but the dried ones are concentrated with stronger aroma. And this yellow one here is fenugreek; the bitterness is strong, so if you use it, keep it to just a hint of flavor—" He spoke rapidly, and he sounded like he was enjoying himself. Pointing at jars on the shelf, rattling off explanations one after another. Hana found herself listening, still holding the box. The density of knowledge was incredible. He said it casually, but how did he know all this? "...You're very knowledgeable," Hana said. "You pick things up naturally if you eat around enough," Ren replied. "Eating around, here?" Hana asked. "Not just here. In my original world too. I've also read literature on food culture from various time periods," Ren said. At that point, Ren turned toward Hana. "What did you come here for?" Ren asked. It was a straightforward question. Not sizing her up or looking down on her, just purely asking. Hana thought for a moment before answering. "When I make confections, someone smiles. I've always loved that. I think that's why I came here," Hana said. "...I see," Ren said. He said it briefly and turned back to the shelves. He didn't say anything more after that, but he didn't deny it either. Hana felt somehow that was fine. --- When Hana returned to her workshop after leaving the materials storage, the announcement for the first competition task had arrived. The task was titled "A Plate of the Era." The ingredients to use were limited to designated materials from the Ancient Egypt section. Dates, lotus seed honey, three varieties of desert spices. Time limit: three hours. Completed works were to be arranged on the judging stand in the Hyakumi no Ma—the competition viewing area on the first floor of the Kanro Palace, a spacious venue with seating for eight hundred and a circular stage in the center. Hana laid out the ingredients on her workshop table and crossed her arms. Dates were sweet. Lotus seed honey had high viscosity and a unique aroma. The spices were... one similar to cardamom's pungency, one with dry sweetness, one with astringency. How to combine these three? *(Should I make a baked confection, or showcase the raw ingredients?)* As she was deliberating, a voice came through a small window in the workshop wall—apparently for lighting between adjacent rooms. "Whoever masters the viscosity of lotus seed honey masters this task," Ren's voice said. Hana turned around. Beyond the window was Ren's face. "...Is your workshop next to mine?" Hana asked. "Apparently. Quite the coincidence," Ren replied. "Were you peeking?" Hana asked. "Just getting light," Ren said. He was clearly peeking, but Hana was more interested in what he'd just said. "Master the viscosity?" "Lotus seed honey changes its properties completely depending on temperature and how you stir it. Too cold and it solidifies too much, too hot and it dissipates. It's a difficult ingredient to handle. If you use it well, it intertwines with other ingredients and creates depth, but—" Ren explained. Then came a *guccho* sound from beyond the window. "..." Ren fell silent. Hana stretched her neck through the window. Ren's hands were covered in honey, sticky and dripping. Threads of it stretched between his fingers, and the space between them was a mess. "You're not mastering it," Hana said. "...Shut up," Ren replied. Hana suppressed her laughter and returned to her own table. Ren's explanation had actually been helpful. Keeping careful attention to the honey's temperature management, Hana began working. When the ingredients were before her, her grandmother's voice naturally came to mind. "Subtract from your ingredients, Hana. Don't add—remove what's unnecessary." Words she'd heard dozens of times in the Kagetsu-do kitchen. The dates' sweetness was strong. The spices were assertive too. The honey was rich. If she tried to use all of it, they'd clash. So then—pare it down. Create a base with just lotus seed honey and dates, use only one type of spice, as a hidden flavor. A simple baked confection. Simple enough to hear the voice of the ingredients. "You won't win if you don't push harder," Ren's voice came through the window again. Apparently he'd wiped off the honey at some point, and Ren was now assembling something with a complex structure on his table. Layering, decorating, clearly engaging head-on with the "Plate of the Era" theme. "I know," Hana said. "If you know, then—" Ren started. "But this is my way," Hana said. Ren went quiet for a moment. Then he just said "I see" and withdrew his face from the window. There was no malice in it. She could tell he genuinely meant what he said. Which was precisely why Hana stared intently at the dough on her table. When someone said something right, you couldn't argue back. It was true that pushing harder increased the chances of higher scores. She understood that. But—if asked whether she could make a confection that wasn't this one, Hana still didn't have an answer. *(Well, I'll just have to try)* She switched gears and began making the dough. As she worked, Hana found herself unconsciously aware of the window. *He's easy to talk to*, she thought. Since they'd gotten buried under boxes together and laughed about it in the materials storage, there was no strange wall between them. Even though they'd just met—well, technically they'd passed each other in the hallway before the opening ceremony yesterday, but this was the first real conversation. Yet somehow it felt so natural. She wondered why, then immediately shook her head. Focus on the confection now. Three hours later, twelve small baked confections were arranged on Hana's table. Their fox-colored surface had fine, evenly-spaced cracks. --- The results were posted on the bulletin board in the Hyakumi no Ma as evening approached. Participants gathered in front of the board set up beside the circular stage. Hana peered over people's shoulders to find her name on the rankings. ...There it was. In a position where it was easier to count from the bottom: "Hana," with "Lower Tier Pass" marked beside it. Various reactions erupted around her. People pumping their fists, people dropping their shoulders, people discussing something with their teammates. Hana couldn't move away from the bulletin board fo