"We've got plenty of time left, loads and loads of half-hours, and for me, watching my senior sleep is a treat. Let me be a little selfish with you once in a while, okay?"

"Mhm." Mayi Asuka gazed at Dubian Che.

Their kiss was a short one.

"It's so warm," Mayi Asuka whispered her feelings about the kiss.

"So warm," Dubian Che kissed her again.

They held each other tightly, entwined like threads, inseparable.

The only way to untangle this clump of threads would be to cut it directly.

◇

Monday, the 57th Cultural Festival at Goda.

"I watched TV this morning, and it looks like a typhoon is coming."

"Are you kidding me? Now of all times?"

"But it seems like today is okay. It won't make landfall until the evening, and hopefully, it'll pass overnight."

"What about the outdoor stalls?"

"We'll pack them up after school. Whether or not we can hold it tomorrow depends on whether the typhoon has passed or on the school's decision."

Students who arrived earlier than usual busied themselves setting up shop while discussing the typhoon.

"Our play is on the second day. What if we can't perform because of the typhoon? We've been practicing for so long," Ichiki Aoi said worriedly in front of the blackboard.

"Just do what you have to do and what you can do, and don't worry about the rest," Kiyono Lin wrote slogans and menus on the blackboard.

Jiutiao Meijie was drawing pictures of the dishes on the blackboard.

This was the extent of the two young ladies' participation in the class activity.

At this time, class 2-4 had already been transformed into a restaurant—with tables arranged in a recess near the courtyard windows.

Customers would enter, order at the podium, and sit down at numbered seats.

The students at the podium would send the customers' orders and numbers to the cooking area.

Once the chefs were done, the servers—dressed as maids—would bring the dishes to the tables.

The drinks were barley tea bought from the supermarket; a bottle was opened and sold by the glass at 50 yen each.

The five students on the first shift as chefs, plus three assistants, were already in place in the cooking area.

"Mr. Dubian, just let me know directly if you need any ingredients~"

"Thank you, Kimura."

"Are you ready? We're going to let the customers in!" called a student tasked with welcoming guests at the door.

"We are!" the female class president also shouted back.

The first batch of customers was mostly girls with only a few boys.

"What would you like? The menu is on the blackboard~" said Ichiki Aoi, who was handling the cash, "By the way, Mr. Dubian is in charge of the fried rice~"

"What's this pitch-black one?"

"Soy sauce fried rice~"

"Soy sauce? Hmm—let's go with the mushroom fried rice instead."

"Okay, one mushroom fried rice. What would you like to drink? Tap water is free, barley tea is 50 yen a glass~"

"Barley tea."

"To let everyone try a variety of flavors, the serving of fried rice is small. Would you like to add a serving of fried noodles or grilled sausage?"

"No thanks, I just want to try Mr. Dubian's fried rice!"

"Got it!"

Another student passed the order to an assistant, who then took it to Dubian Che.

Dubian Che cracked an egg with one hand.

The yolk sizzled in the pan, followed by sausage and corn kernels, then rice and mushroom pieces.

He constantly stirred until steam rose from the pan, and the rice danced in the pan, drizzling in the dark soy sauce for color.

Finally, he turned up the heat and flipped everything vigorously; the rice and ingredients were distinct and poured down like a waterfall from above.

"Wow! Mr. Dubian is so cool~~" The female staff members of his class and visiting female customers all took out their phones to film.

He finished off with a sprinkle of green onions, spun the plate once the aroma hit his nose.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Dubian Che presented the vibrant mushroom fried rice, the golden hue of the egg shining through, garnished with green onion.

The Cultural Festival had begun.

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