Chapter 10 : Fine night with top chef's.
At Jotaro house
First person
30 minutes later
The first thing Jotaro did was to rent three top chefs in his family contract list to reach his home and cook tonight for them exclusively.
Upon hearing the request from him the third party organisation connected to the best 5 star hotel sent only the available good chefs who were Ikumi Mito, Erina Nakiri and Alice Nakiri.
Kumi has short blonde hair with a strand of hair that stands out, brown skin and turquoise eyes. She also has a noticeably curvy figure and large breasts, which she often shows off through the chef outfits she wears.
Erina has purple-pinkish eyes and long, honey-blonde hair that flows just above her lower back and thin eyebrows.. Her side bangs partially cross her cheeks and go down all the way to her neck. She is considered by most of the students in Tōtsuki to be extremely beautiful.
Alice is a fair-skinned girl who almost entirely inherited all her beautiful physical traits from her mother with short, silver hair that has a longer left hair strand where it initially reaches the bottom of her chin, red eyes that are drawn a little differently and large breasts with buttocks like Erina Nakiri. Although, she exceeds her cousin by a couple of inches.
"It's nice you meet three of you, I'm sorry I'm rushing the greeting part but my guests are… starving…" Jotaro in an apologetic tone explained his dire situation after he made some firm hands with three of them one by one.
"No worries Mr. Jotaro, our family ties are strong, moreover your parents have aided our family in hard times." Erina replied with a warm smile to ease Jotaro tension as she remembered the house and his face.
"Yes, formality can wait but not the hungry guest." Alice added, as he entered the house. "Where is the kitchen?" She inquired, she unlike her sister she never met or came to his home.
"Hope you have good ingredients." Kumi asked the following Jotaro who were leading them to the kitchen. "Well I have tools and top tier ingredients."
"That would work for us."
With formality and introduction done the chef took orders without complaint after searching and exploring the kitchen. And gave a quick estimate as they were eager to showcase their skills.
'My memories meeting the Nakiri family and Kumi's family are a bit blurry for some reason.' Jotaro thought as he was supposed to know his family and they have strong ties.
As they were flawlessly cooking, Jotaro watched with enthusiasm, impressed by the way they were cooking. They were top of the top in the world for a reason which he now understands. 'Still their service is expensive.' He thought, as he looked at his bank account.
"But I didn't pay for the wine and snacks at the hotel." He muttered remembering what happened a year ago. Leaving the kitchen he entered the dinner hall where everyone was waiting for their food.
'Look like they are getting along.' Was all Jotaro was able to make out of the current scenario of the room. They were laughing, reading, listening and enjoying each other's company.
"Boss, what are you doing alone? Come here I demand a duel in this game." Gwen said holding a console controller as she challenged him with a grin on her face. "You better not regret it, Gwen."
"You talk big for a guy who just spent ten minutes watching chefs," Gwen taunted, her thumbs a blur on her controller. Her character unleashed a flurry of kicks, chipping away at my health bar. I grunted, parrying a high kick and retaliating with a heavy blow that sent her character skidding back. The others were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay us much mind, save for Martha, whose eyes were closed in bliss.
Few minutes later
"MMmm~" The sound was soft but cut through the digital carnage on the TV. All eyes, mine included, flickered to her.
Martha had a slice of the pork dish held delicately between her chopsticks, a single, perfect bite. The chefs had outdone themselves. The meat was glistening with a dark, savory glaze, nestled beside a delicate swirl of what looked like puréed sweet potato and some vibrant green vegetable I couldn't identify.
Martha chewed slowly, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure on her face. "This… this is divine," she breathed, finally swallowing. "Jotaro, you've outdone yourself. This isn't just food; it's art."
Gwen paused her assault, her character standing idle as she peered over at Martha's plate. "Whoa, really? Let me see." Before I could protest, she dropped her controller onto the cushion and bounded over to the table, her earlier competitive fire replaced by culinary curiosity.
Soon, the others followed, gathering around the platters the chefs were beginning to bring out from the kitchen. The gaming duel was forgotten.
I set my own controller down, a small smile on my face. It was good to see them like this. The tension from the hotel, the unease that had been clinging to me since this whole thing started, was melting away in the warm, food-filled air.
I watched as Alice Nakiri presented a dish that looked like a modernist sculpture—deconstructed seafood tower with foam, gelees, and microgreens. Erina's contribution was a perfectly roasted chicken, its skin a flawless, burnished gold, that smelled of herbs and butter.
And Ikumi… Ikumi had brought out a massive, sizzling platter of what looked like every carnivore's dream, a variety of grilled meats that made my mouth water.
They were laughing, pointing, and exclaiming over each dish. Even the most stoic among them had a look of childlike wonder. My gaze drifted towards the kitchen doorway. Erina emerged, wiping her hands on her apron, her expression one of cool, professional satisfaction. She caught my eye and gave a subtle, approving nod. I nodded back.
'Still, their memories of me…' The thought returned, nagging at the back of my mind. Erina's words about my parents aiding her family felt like a ghost of a conversation I should have remembered.
It was a blank space, a feeling of a missing piece in a puzzle I didn't know I was solving. I pushed it down. Tonight wasn't for unraveling family mysteries. Tonight was for this.
"Alright, move aside, you vultures," a new voice cut through the chatter. It was Ikumi, her curvy figure striding confidently into the dining hall with another platter.
"The main course is served. Don't fill up on the appetizers." She placed a large, covered dish in the center of the table with a flourish. "And you," she said, pointing a tongs at me, a playful glint in her turquoise eyes.
"You'd better appreciate this. This is my special 'Drop of the Beast' meat dish. A recipe that's been in my family for generations."
She lifted the lid, and a wave of rich, smoky aroma hit us. It was a steak, perfectly seared on the outside, sliced to reveal a blushing pink interior, arranged on a bed of fire-roasted vegetables and drizzled with a dark, shimmering sauce. It looked less like a meal and more like a trophy.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Gwen cheered, already reaching for a serving spoon.
The evening flowed on, a river of exquisite food, easy laughter, and the comfortable clinking of glasses. The chefs, having finished their service, joined us for a bit, their professional demeanor softening as they shared stories of culinary school and impossible customers.
I learned Alice was a molecular gastronomy enthusiast, Erina a purist who believed in honoring the ingredient, and Ikumi… Ikumi just believed in making damn good food.
As the night wore on, the group began to disperse. Some, full and sleepy, found their way to the guest rooms I'd shown them earlier.
Others curled up on the large sofas with books from my shelves. Gwen, predictably, had challenged one of the chefs to a rematch in the fighting game and was now furiously mashing buttons, her opponent—a surprisingly game Alice—matching her move for move.
I found myself standing by the large window overlooking the garden, a glass of wine in my hand. The house was quiet now, save for the faint electronic noises from the living room. The moon cast a silvery glow over the manicured hedges. It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
A soft footstep behind me made me turn. It was Erina. She had changed out of her chef's whites and into a simple, elegant dress.
"They seem to be a lively group," she said, her voice low. She came to stand beside me, looking out at the same moonlit view.
"They are," I agreed. "They've been through a lot."
"Haven't we all," she replied softly. There was a weight to her words that made me look at her more closely. Her profile in the moonlight was serene, but her purple-pinkish eyes held a flicker of something old, something that mirrored the feeling in my own gut.
"My family owes you a great deal. My grandfather always said that your bloodline attracts trouble, but also… the most extraordinary people." She turned to face me fully. "He said that when a Fujiwara calls for help, you answer. No questions asked. It's a debt that can never truly be repaid."
Her words settled over me, a strange mix of comfort and confusion. It was an explanation, but it felt like it was missing the beginning. "I… don't remember that," I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.
Erina's expression softened. She didn't look surprised. "Memory is a strange thing, Mr. Jotaro. Sometimes, it's not about what we can recall, but what our soul knows is true." She placed a gentle hand on my arm. "Get some rest. You look like you need it."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts, the moonlight, and the unsettling feeling that the answers I was looking for weren't in my memories.
Hours later, the feast was devoured, and the empty bottles of expensive wine that had been paired with each course littered the table. The initial, sophisticated appreciation for the meal had given way to a loud, boisterous, and thoroughly drunken energy.
The chefs, having shared a few celebratory glasses with us, were now just as rowdy as my guests.
"Alright, alright, settle down!" Gwen shouted, standing unsteadily on her chair and raising an empty bottle like a scepter. "The food was amazing, the wine is flowing, and we are not letting this night end! We're playing Truth or Dare!"
A chorus of drunken agreement filled the room. I knew this was a terrible idea, but with the warm buzz of alcohol in my veins and the relaxed atmosphere, I couldn't bring myself to argue. We formed a messy circle on the floor and in the surrounding armchairs.
"Okay, I'll start!" Gwen declared, her eyes landing on the formidable Ikumi Mito. "Ikumi! Truth or dare?"
Ikumi, who was leaning back with a confident smirk, didn't hesitate. "Dare. I don't do secrets."
"I dare you… to arm-wrestle Jotaro!" Gwen announced, pointing at me.
Ikumi's grin widened. "You're on, boss." We cleared a spot on the low table, clasped hands, and the group counted down. Her grip was surprisingly strong, and for a moment we were deadlocked. But with a final surge, I slammed her hand down. She shook it out, laughing. "Damn, you're stronger than you look."
The game continued, a spiral of escalating silliness and revealing truths.
Alice dared Martha to serenade a decorative vase, which she did with a surprisingly operatic baritone. Erina, when pressed for a truth, admitted her biggest culinary fear was making a dish so bland it caused someone to fall asleep at the table.
Then it was my turn. The bottle pointed at me. Gwen's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Jotaro. Truth or dare?"
"Truth," I said, figuring it was the safer option.
Her smirk was wicked. "Fine. Tell us about the biggest red flag you have which will turn any woman here off instantly."
The air in the room seemed to still. The laughter died down, and all eyes were on me. It was a question aimed directly at private life. I opened my mouth, then closed it, the wine making my thoughts fuzzy but the feeling of that missing piece sharper than ever.
"Go on, boss," Ikumi urged, her tone surprisingly gentle. "Spill."
I took a breath. "It's… I want more than one woman in my life. And by more I mean a lot as I have inhuman stamina. I know it shouldn't be there, but I am just a big bad greedy man. I can't explain more."
Silence. The drunken cheerfulness had evaporated, replaced by a heavy, contemplative quiet. Erina looked down at her hands, a strange expression on her face. It was Alice who broke the silence, her voice uncharacteristically serious.
"That's funny yet a huge turn off, perhaps it's alcohol talking," she said, looking at me, then at Erina. "For everyone's sake."
The statement hung in the air, more chilling than any dare. The game was over. The night of laughter had suddenly revealed a crack in the foundation, and I was staring right into it. The friendly gathering felt less like a party and more like an interrogation I hadn't known I was a part of.