At Totsuki Culinary Academy, the famous Polar Star Dorm is home to genius and eccentric chefs as always. One day, Soma Yukihira is given a shock by the dorm matron, Fumio Daimido. A master of tea ceremony with a terrifying temper when angered, she declares, 'Room inspections in one week! If your room is dirty, a ten-book report without question!' Soma thinks he's safe, until Satoshi Isshiki peeks into his room and says, 'I can't see your floor.' Panicking, Soma tries to clean up but discovers a
Polar Star Dorm: Today is Peaceful… Right?! - Canned Food Hell and the Fundoshi Strategist
Monday, after school.
Souma Yukihira opened the door to his room, saw the mountain of cardboard boxes towering in his six-tatami Japanese-style room, and let out a heavy sigh.
"Alright, let's do this."
First, he opened the box right in front of him.
What came out was a vacuum-sealed pack of durian, yellowed and discolored. Then, three unlabeled jars. When he tried to open one, something black inside—
"Whoa!"
He nearly dropped the jar. The contents were some kind of dried larvae. Probably edible. Probably.
"Who the hell dumped this stuff on me…"
Scratching his head furiously, Souma reached for the next box.
From outside the window, he could hear the distant shouts of sports clubs. Tootsuki Academy had a thousand students, but only about a hundred would graduate—an ultra-elite school. A world of pure meritocracy where everything was decided by cooking battles called *shokugeki*.
Within that harsh academy, Polar Star Dorm was a special place.
A sixty-eight-year-old, two-story wooden building. It had a capacity of thirty, but only about ten people lived there now. And those ten included a guy who exploded fermented foods in the middle of the night, a senpai who wandered around in a loincloth—just a bunch of eccentrics, really.
But Souma loved this dorm.
Here, everyone could just focus on cooking. Status and family background didn't matter. Whoever made the most delicious food was the one who earned respect.
The absolute authority of Polar Star Dorm was the dorm mother, Fumio Oomido.
She was small, always smiling, and usually incredibly kind. But when it came to room inspections, she became a different person. Anyone who got the lowest rating was assigned a reading report on ten assigned books. Ten specialized books, four hundred pages each. A hundred sheets of manuscript paper.
(*That, I absolutely cannot let happen.*)
Souma renewed his determination and opened the third box.
What came out were five warped whisks. Three frying pans with broken handles. Two chipped knives.
"Wait, are these all the ones people gave me…?"
Thinking back, over the past few months, senpais and classmates had pushed things onto him, saying, "Souma, you can fix this, right?" or "You'll find a use for it, right?" Unable to throw them away, he'd just shoved them into boxes, piled them on the floor, and that's how things ended up like this.
Yeah, Isshiki-senpai was right.
He couldn't see the floor.
That's when it happened.
"Hey there, working hard?"
Turning around, he saw Satoshi Isshiki, wearing nothing but a loincloth, leaning against the doorframe with a cheerful smile. Apparently fresh from the bath, his wet brown hair clung damply to his forehead. The ridiculously flashy red loincloth on his slender body was blinding.
"Isshiki-senpai, I told you to put on some clothes."
"Hmm? But this is what I'm most comfortable in."
Not looking the least bit bothered, Isshiki strode right into Souma's room. Then, looking over the boxes piled on the floor, he smiled happily.
"Quite a sight. Here, I'll help out."
"Huh? Seriously? That'd be a huge help."
"Of course. We're dorm mates, aren't we?"
Saying that, Isshiki opened the nearest box and dumped its contents onto the floor. With a rustling sound, dried herbs and mysterious powders spread across the tatami.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
"Sorting. This is usable. This is trash. Ah, but this powder has an interesting smell. What kind of spice is it?"
"Even so, you didn't have to dump it on the floor!"
"It's fine, it's fine. The basic rule of cleaning is to take everything out first."
Completely unrepentant, Isshiki opened the next box. This time, some kind of vacuum-sealed pack flew out and rolled all the way to the window.
Souma clawed at his head.
(*Does this guy actually want to help?*)
But this "laid-back" attitude of Isshiki's was nothing new. A second-year high school student with top-notch cooking skills. Yet he always wandered around in a loincloth, got in the way of cleaning, and somehow, in the end, made everyone smile.
The biggest oddball in Polar Star Dorm.
But Souma couldn't bring himself to dislike this senpai.
"Souma-kun, what's this?"
From the bottom of the box furthest back, Isshiki pulled out an unlabeled can. A simple silver can. No label. But it was strangely heavy.
"Ah, that. I found one just like it yesterday. A Swedish can. The really stinky kind."
"Oh? Is it the same? Let's open it."
"What? No, no, you really shouldn't—"
But Isshiki had already picked up a can opener. The one that was on Souma's desk.
"It might be a rare ingredient. Besides, if you find something interesting while cleaning, you have to try it."
"Interesting… last time, the whole room stank, you know."
"That's also an experience."
Isshiki pierced a small hole in the can.
*Psssh.*
—The next moment.
"Whoa!!!"
An intense stench filled the room. It was nothing compared to yesterday's can.
To put it into words, it was like fish that had rotted, soaked in sewage for three months. It pierced deep into his nose and stung his eyes.
"What is this?! It's way worse than yesterday's!"
Pinching his nose, Souma rushed to the window. But even opening the window did nothing to let the smell escape. If anything, the outside wind just spread it further through the room.
Isshiki's expression twisted for just a moment. But immediately,
"This is incredible. Swedish *surströmming*. Canned fermented herring. A fairly high-end product."
"This is no time to be impressed! It's leaking into the hallway!"
Souma was right.
The smell flowed through the ventilation fan into the hallway, and further, into the neighboring room.
The person living next door was Isami Aldini.
A usually cheerful, stout Italian exchange student. He lived in Polar Star Dorm with his older brother, Takumi. His hobby was napping, and he should have been sleeping in his room at this hour.
—*Thud.*
The sound of something collapsing in the hallway.
"W-what is this smell… I feel sick…"
Rushing out, Souma found Isami collapsed in the hallway. Pale-faced, covering his mouth.
"Isami! Are you okay?!"
"Y-Yukihira… from your room… ugh…"
Isami lost consciousness right then and there.
"Hey! Isami! Damn it, someone—!"
"What did you do, Souma Yukihiraaaaaa!!!"
The one who came charging up the stairs was Isami's older brother, Takumi Aldini.
His silver hair flowing, his blue eyes burning with rage. A hot-blooded man who adored his younger brother, and the star son of the Italian restaurant "Trattoria Aldini."
"Isami! Isami, wake up!"
After confirming his brother was safe, Takumi noticed the bizarre stench and peered into Souma's room.
And then he spotted the opened can sitting in the middle of the room.
"You… you opened *surströmming*?! And inside your room?!"
"No, technically, Isshiki-senpai was the one…"
"Hey there, Takumi-kun. Nice smell, isn't it?"
Isshiki waved, still in his loincloth.
A vein bulged on Takumi's forehead.
"Like hell it's a nice smell! Italy has fermented fish products too, but nothing this bad! And opening this in an enclosed space—are you insane?! At this rate, the entire dorm will be unusable for days!"
"Seriously?"
"Seriously! Yukihira, what do you plan to do about this catastrophe?!"
Souma instinctively took a step back at Takumi's fury.
Indeed, what was supposed to be simple cleaning had now turned him into "the man who endangered the entire dorm." Isami was collapsed in the hallway, and other dorm residents, sensing something wrong, were starting to peek out of their rooms.
"What's that smell…"
"It's coming from Yukihira's room!"
"Did he do something again…"
He could hear the whispers of the dorm residents.
Souma bit his lip.
(*Crap. This is totally my fault.*)
But that's when it happened.
"Everyone, calm down."
Isshiki slowly stepped out into the hallway. For some reason, his loincloth-clad figure had a strange air of composure.
"The smell is certainly intense. But don't you think this is a trial given to us, Polar Star Dorm?"
""""Huh?""""
The dorm residents spoke in unison.
"The room inspection is in one week. But what stands before us now isn't just a pile of garbage. This stench itself is the true enemy of cleaning. Isn't that right?"
"…What are you talking about?"
"In other words, eliminating this smell. That act itself is the same as cooking. Understand the scent of the ingredient, and apply the appropriate treatment. We're cooks, aren't we? How can we call ourselves cooks if we can't overcome a smell like this?"
At Isshiki's words, the dorm residents looked at each other.
At first, it seemed like nonsense, but for some reason, they almost found themselves convinced.
"…Well, it's true that cooking is a battle with smells."
"Right? You're starting to get it, Souma-kun."
"Anyway, we can't get anywhere until we do something about this smell."
Takumi sighed.
"In Italy, we use charcoal and baking soda. We used them back home to get the fish smell off our hands. Yukihira, put charcoal in your room too. Then open all the windows and prioritize ventilation above all else."
"Whoa, that's Takumi for you! You know your stuff!"
"I'm not happy to be praised! I'm just cleaning up your mess!"
Just then, Isami, who had collapsed, opened his eyes.
"Ugh… big bro…"
"Isami! Are you okay?"
"…The ventilation fan. There should be a big one in the storage room."
"Huh? You were passed out, and you were thinking about that?"
"Because… if this keeps up, the dorm food will taste bad."
Isami stood up unsteadily and started walking towards the storage room. Watching his back, Takumi gave a wry smile.
"He's a glutton, after all. But that's what I like about him."
"Alright! Then I'll go find some charcoal! Takumi, where is it?"
"It should be in the academy's practice building. I'll guide you."
"I'll go check the other rooms in the dorm. We need to see if the smell has spread."
Before they knew it, everyone had divided up the roles.
Souma, who until just moments ago was "the man who contaminated the dorm's air," was now part of the team.
(*Did Isshiki-senpai's weird speech actually work?*)
Souma wasn't quite sure himself, but he got moving anyway.
—Three hours later.
After opening every possible window, running four large ventilation fans, and placing charcoal all over the room…
Somehow, the smell had recovered to a "breathable level." It was still a bit fishy, but not enough to make you pass out.
"Phew… we finally made it this far."
Wiping off sweat, Souma looked around the room.
And then he realized.
—Cleaning progress: zero.
In fact, because they'd piled boxes in the hallway to deal with the smell, the room felt even messier than before.
"…You've gotta be kidding me."
Souma's shoulders slumped in dejection.
He'd started right after school on Monday, and before he knew it, it was already ten at night. The first day of his one-week grace period was over.
"Souma-kun, are you feeling down?"
At some point, Isshiki was standing behind him. Still in his loincloth, as always.
"Isshiki-senpai… I got nothing done today. If anything, the situation's gotten worse."
"That's not true. Today's greatest enemy wasn't the garbage—it was the stench. And you splendidly repelled it, didn't you?"
"…Well, I guess so."
"Besides, cleaning isn't something you finish in a day. It's something you do little by little, every day."
Isshiki pointed to the back of the room.
There, a mountain of broken cooking utensils towered.
Frying pans with broken handles. Chipped knives. Warped whisks. And some oddly shaped tools he didn't even know the use for.
He hadn't been able to touch them yet today.
"That's your next wall. Broken things aren't just for throwing away. You need to determine if they can be fixed, or if there's another use for them."
"Fix them… but I'm an amateur at repairing tools."
"No, you can do it. A cook is someone who understands tools and ingredients better than anyone. And besides—"
Isshiki stared at the can lying on
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