[Warning] OC, Fem!Souma, possible nudity, minor cursing, detailed descriptions of foodgasms and spoilers, lot and lots of spoilers

[Disclaimer] I do not own Shokugeki no Souma

{A/N} Hi! So I just recently I got caught up in the Shokugeki no Souma manga, which led to watching the anime and thus the birth of this fic. I really wanted to write a Fem!Souma story and that ended up connecting to one of my earlier ideas, which was Souma having a younger sibling. From everything I've seen it seems canon that he's good with kids, so I really wanted to expand on that.

Now most teenage girls are really interested in love and boys, and just generally having hormones, Souma isn't much different; she'll have crushes and the like. I plan on adding dashes of romance to this story here and there, but it won't be what I'm focusing on so I guess you could say that pairing is still undecided. I want to center this story on how being female affects Souma's choices and reactions despite her having a similar personality to her canon self, the addition of a younger brother is to explore the idea of sibling relations and put emphasis on Fem!Souma's maternal instincts.

Lastly I'd like to say I don't have that much expertise in cooking and would be grateful for corrections, suggestions and general trivia on what will be mentioned in the story and your own ideas for dishes.

Please drop a review after reading, both compliments and constructive criticism are highly appreciated!

Chapter One

The Yukihira Siblings

"Yukihira-chan, wait up!"

"Man yesterday was insane..."

"Yukihira-chan!"

"Well it's not that bad; Ayumu and I managed to pull through at the very least..."

"Um, excuse me, Yukihira-chan?"

"I'm really glad we managed, how would I be able to study cooking if that hag forced us to close down shop?"

"Um, forgive my rudeness, Yukihira-chan!" the now blushing boy cried, reaching forward to touch the redheaded girl's shoulder. Startled, the girl was pulled out of her inner reverie, turning her golden eyes on the perpetrator with startling intensity. The boy in question gulped nervously, fearful that he had just ruined his chances for what he was about to attempt. That was of course until Yukihira smiled at him, practically turning the boy into goo right on the spot.

"Ah, Watanabe-kun sorry about that!" she apologized brightly, her smile waning around the edges to a slightly sheepish grin. She turned towards him fully, her stance comfortable and confident. Bystanders who were watching the exchange sighed wearily, already more aware than the girl in question about what was about to happen. Yukihira Souma was a beautiful girl after all; with her long cherry colored locks and captivating golden eyes, which only served to highlight her classically beautiful features and slim figure, not even the vertical scar on her left eyebrow could detract from her looks. Coupled with her bubbly and confident personality and superior cooking ability, Yukihira Souma was practically a goddess.

Now if only she wasn't so dense romantically...

"Um, Yukihira-chan could we speak somewhere more private perhaps?" the boy asked wearily, painfully aware of all the eavesdroppers to their conversation. The implied eavesdroppers immediately went back to their tasks at hand, though many gave their silent condolences to the poor boy. Souma on the other hand, merely smiled politely, completely unsure why he was here.

If she wasn't mistaken, Watanabe was a member of their baseball club and after school club activities should be starting right about now. She on the other hand was not shackled by such incriminating duties. Since their middle school didn't require them to join clubs she had forgone joining anything altogether, preferring to go straight home and help out at their diner. She was able to go home even earlier because she had been mercifully spared from cleaning duty. Watanabe didn't have the same leeway as her, she wanted an explanation.

"Eto, Watanabe-kun why are you here anyway? Don't you have club activities?" she asked kindly, taking note of the white envelope that seemed to be sticking out of his pocket, but deemed it irrelevant for now. The boy paled at her words, the earlier memory of his teammates patting him on the back and telling him to go give his all to this confession making him flinch.

"There's no way I can tell her that!"

"Ah, well I've been excused, you see," he told her sheepishly. Souma nodded, accepting the answer rather easily, Ayumu was also often excused to help out at their restaurant. Wait a minute… Ayumu! She was supposed to pick him up directly after class today, a rare request from him that she had no intention of denying. That was the main reason she had wheedled her way out of cleaning duty in the first place, something she wasn't all that opposed to doing.

"Sorry Watanabe-kun, could it wait for another time?" she asked meekly, dropping her bag and putting her hands together in the universal motion of pleading. The boy practically melted as she looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes, their color seemingly softer and warmer with emotion.

Before he could pick his jaw off the floor, stop staring and respond Souma had already run off.

Drip

"Aw, it's melting," the young boy murmured quietly, licking frantically at the drops of soda Popsicle that were rapidly dripping onto the ground. Growing increasingly hasty he resorted to stuffing the entire frozen treat into his mouth, shivering slightly as it hit his teeth and melted instantly. After licking off the entire cold treat he wrapped up the remaining stick and tucked it into his bag to be stored with the others when he got home, it was another 'winner' stick and Ayumu had every intention of adding it to his growing collection. He was notorious for nearly always getting them, his collection currently swelling to an astounding 134. His classmates never failed to inform him what an amazing feat it was, nor how lucky Ayumu seemed to be and he would have to agree, he was extremely lucky.

Whoever tried to be sneaky and confess to his sister definitely was not.

"Come to think of it, Watanabe-senpai was supposed to try today, wasn't he?" Ayumu mused lightly, standing up to stretch his legs; causing a group of passing girls to giggle at his antics. They seemed to do that a lot around Ayumu, be all giggly that is. It seemed that even sixth graders had no problem telling that Ayumu was going to grow up to be a good looking young man, both him and Souma looking to have increasingly bright futures in the looks department. Unlike his sister who made people stop and stare as she passed with a mere flip of her fiery hair, Ayumu had inherited their father's wild brown mane and put painstaking effort into cropping it as short as he could get away with. It didn't do him much good though, it seemed that whenever he sheared it down it grew back at an alarming rate until it was enough to cover his forehead, then it went back to growing at semi-normal pace; it was vexing to say the least. People said it looked good on him, apparently it gave him the kind of attractive, scruffy look that his father had been famous for, coupled with the same golden eyes as the rest of his family and his slight resemblance to his late mother, many said that Ayumu looked like a more refined version of his father.

"Oi, Ayumu!" a voice called loudly, snapping the boy to attention abruptly. He focused his gaze on his sister who was walking up to him; her bag slung over one shoulder, garnering the stares of many of the passing students. Ayumu didn't even bother to glare at any of them; none of them had a chance anyway and that was only if his sister ever got it into her thick skull that many members of both sexes found her quite attractive.

"Nee-chan," Ayumu greeted calmly, picking up his bag from the ground. His sister merely sighed at his nonchalant greeting, completely unperturbed by the stares of passing students and adults alike, truly in a fashion reminiscent of her. Standing next to each other the familial resemblance was plain as day, though it really shone through the challenging glint in both of their eyes. "Can we get ice cream on the way home?"

That seemed to have piqued her interest.

"Oh what's this, looking for your 135th I believe, winner stick?" she asked him teasingly, setting a brisk pace for them to get home. Ayumu didn't have to guess that his sister already knew that he had eaten one after school, their father was always telling him not to since it would spoil his early dinner, but Souma let him anyway. Ayumu nodded already ready for an affirmative, she really was a pushover when it came to him. "No."

"I'll get a pear flavored one and see if they have the new mango fla─ what?"

"Eh? Why not, Nee-chan!" he demanded loudly, preparing to use what he called "Puppy Dog Face 2.0, Undeniable Expression", something he only reserved for times of desperate measures. His sister rarely said no, but when she did it took all the stops to convince her otherwise.

"We have to continue the peanut butter squid experiment, remember?" she told informed smugly, not even bothering to glance in his direction. That's right they were supposed to see if they could make their grilled squid with peanut butter monstrosity any worse, they were still aiming for the top spot on their family's top ten worst tasting dishes, which was still currently being dominated by their father's fearsome dried sardines and strawberry jam. Oh, that had been nasty; Ayumu hadn't been able to taste anything properly for weeks.

"My taste buds are going to die," he informed her, knowing she would still push onward any way. She didn't disappoint, merely smiling at him fondly while flashing a thumbs up. What on earth had he expected? His sister had inherited their father's knack for creating both heavenly and traumatizing food; something Ayumu couldn't fully understand, but enjoyed helping out with all the same.

"If that happens then we'll know we won!"

"Maybe we should grill it longer, char the outside a little more to─ Nee-chan why'd you stop walking?" the brunette murmured, nearly taking in a mouthful of his sister's red hair when he ran into her. The following remarks died on his lips as he saw Souma's unoccupied hand curl into a fist, her nails biting into flesh. It wasn't that easy to catch his sister off guard, what was going on? Gently he reached forward uncurling her fist like he had always done; her grip went lax, but she didn't respond to him at all, it was only then that he realized her shoulders were shaking.

"Nee-chan, what's wrong?" he asked gently, careful to not startle her. He was more than weary of his sister when she was angry, she had a mean right hook after all, though anyone who could get so far under her skin to make her resort to violence should have seen it coming a long time ago. His sister liked to take out her causes of discomfort in challenges, small things that proved the assumptions that annoyed her were baseless and embarrassed anyone who apposed her.

"Ayumu," she murmured quietly, catching his attention almost immediately. "Did dad mention closing down the shop early today?"

"No─"

"Then why are the usual sounds of the restaurant not there?" she demanded, cutting him off immediately. Startled, he strained his ears, trying to catch the sounds of milling customers or the sizzle of the stove to try and calm her down, but nothing met his ears; the restaurant was silent. For a moment the two stood there in silence, expecting their father to walk out the back door, smirking at them and say tell them the food he had prepared was getting cold and the guest were getting restless. He had done it before, for Ayumu's tenth birthday; the boy had nearly jumped out of his skin in shock and their father had laughed saying he'd do it again sometime to see the boy's rarely shifting indifference crack once more.

Except today wasn't either of their birthdays.

Sharing a frantic glance the two stood there in silence for a moment, all the horrible possibilities running through their head before they were both spurred to action. Nearly synchronized both siblings scrambled to the front door, nearly trampling each other in haste. They didn't even bother to turn on the light as they ran past the storage area heading straight into the shop, with the rattling bang of the storage room door being thrown open.

"Yo, Souma, Ayumu, you're late," their father commented easily, setting down a plate of fried rice on the counter. The two siblings' gazes darted around the room, trying to comprehend what was going on. The stove was currently off, but showed signs of being recently used, there was a stack of dishes in the sink just waiting for one of them to get to work on. These were normal, they were expected every day at Yukihira's, everything else was not. Only one of the tables was set up, all the others still had the seats stacked and the usual condiments nowhere in sight, the most disconcerting had to be the one that was the most obvious; the doors weren't open.

"Dad if you're going to close up early, tell us first!" Souma cried, being the first to recover from the shock. Instead of laughing and brushing her off as he usually did, Joichiro's expression turned solemn, immediately capturing both his children's attention. Ayumu pursued his lips, not liking the way his father had clammed up. Joichiro might not have been a very talkative man, but he was always very open with them about his emotions, this was something very uncharacteristic indeed.

"Why don't both of you have a seat?" Joichiro suggested calmly, gesturing to the already set table, laid out on it was what looked to be a feast. All of their favorites, or at least current favorites laid out in a neat and orderly fashion. This set up sent off even more warning bells in their heads; their father rarely cooked the foods they particularly enjoyed, he mainly encouraged them to try making it on their own or try and find a dish they liked even more. Even Ayumu who didn't particularly enjoy cooking had sucked up his whining and enlisted his sister to teach him how to make their family's specialty beef stew. The fact that Joichiro was cooking their favorites for them was an obvious sign he was trying to butter them up.

Souma sighed, not completely sure where her father was going with this impromptu after school meal, but decided to play along anyway. She made her way over to the table and dropped her bag down next to her seat, making a great show of sitting down. Soon after Ayumu followed suit, seating himself with a weary glance at the food, trying to certain that nothing there was on their worst recipes list.

"Well go on, eat you two," Joichiro commented blandly, turning around to begin washing the dishes. Both of them stared at him outright, but he just continued washing; ignoring them exceptionally well. Begrudgingly the two picked up their chopsticks, murmuring quiet thanks before digging in. Despite all the tension and their father's continuous silent streak the food tasted excellent, reminding Souma why she had yet to beat him and Ayumu why he didn't bother trying to surpass him at all.

Joichiro looked over the two of them fondly and nearly did a double-take when he realized how quickly they were devouring the meal he had set out for them. If he wanted to tell them, he'd best do it now.

"Souma, Ayumu," both of them looked up at him expectantly, their cheeks filled liked squirrels. "For two or three years, I'm going to…" he had both of their undivided attention, so much of it both of them forgot to swallow. Perfect. "… Close the restaurant."

Ayumu's eyes bulged out of their sockets, promptly choking on whatever food was currently in his mouth. Souma's reaction took a little longer, consisting of her being stuck in a blank faced daze while her brother tried to uselessly reach for the water next to her. That was until she promptly spit out her precious Furikake Gohan, which would've splattered right in Ayumu's face had she not tipped her chair back in haste to stand up.

She fell back in a heap which would have looked like a rather compromising position if she had been with anyone other than the two men currently with her. Ayumu took the opportunity to try and calm himself as he helped her up, growing increasingly annoyed with their father's nonchalant expression, which he really didn't have a right to since his own was very similar.

"Yeah, you know… I apologized to our regulars today, all that was left was to tell the two of you," he informed them with an almost smug smile on his face. Both of them paled even further from his words. Someone else knew!?

"Apologize to you children first!" Souma cried, looking flabbergasted as she shook her fist at him from her now standing position.

"An old friend of mine suggested working together."

"That's it?"

"Wha─?"

"I'll be living with them for a while," Joichiro continued as if neither of them had spoken. "So I won't be back here."

"But you can't just…" Souma murmured quietly, for once in her life unable to come up with anything to say, beside her Ayumu, bowed his head unsure of how to contribute to this conversation. It was his sister who wanted to be a chef and surpass their father, not him. She was the one who would take the shop closing down the hardest. This was her worst nightmare, but their dad seemed to have no qualms with breaking it too her, maybe even ignoring her. "Oi, dad!"

"As soon as I get my stuff together, I'm leaving," Joichiro continued as if this were just a normal conversation.

"Wait!" Souma cried looking absolutely stricken by the sudden turn of events, but their father just plowed on.

"I'll send both of you separate allowances to live on so you don't have to worry about sharing."

"I said wait!" Souma called out, looking on the verge of crying as she glared fiercely at nothing in particular. "I always… wanted this restaurant to…" She was cut off by their father walking up to her, putting a comforting hand on her head and ruffling her hair, she looked up at him through her lashes, unsure what was going on anymore.

"It's time for you to go, Souma," he murmured kindly before glancing at Ayumu as well, "time for both of you. Go figure out what you've both got." Both of them stared as him as he held up some papers that had been resting on the counter, unnoticed. Souma reached for them with shaking fingers, unable to comprehend the basic letters on the page.

Educational Institution

Totsuki Teahouse Culinary Academy

Transfer Information

"Cooking school?" she murmured, nearly ripping the paper right then and there. "Why do I have to go to a school like this now?"

"I've also prepared an enrollment form for Ayumu," Joichiro murmured, silencing any protest the boy might have had with a raise of his hand. "It's perfect timing, isn't it? I'm closing the restaurant, and you can earn high school credits there, you and Ayumu can even stay together. Just go study there for three years, six for Ayumu."

"But dad I'm not even interested in cooking!" Ayumu cried, finally finding his voice. He avoided it when he could, preferring to deal with customers, both kind and whatever else. He didn't understand the subtle beauty of watching ingredients sizzle or feel the sense of completion is sister spoke about whenever someone else enjoyed his dishes. Cooking wasn't his thing! Why did he have to tag along?

"Ayumu just try, you might just find what you're looking for," Joichiro stated firmly leaving no room for debate.

"Cooking school, seriously? He plans on making us attend cooking school," Souma grouched quietly beside Ayumu. Both of them were walking down the road leading to the academy as specified by their father. Souma was dressed in her former middle school uniform while Ayumu was decked in a collared white shirt and slacks for formalities sake. The hems of his slacks were a little too long since Souma had only been able to do a rough adjustment to one of their father's pants since most of Ayumu's own had become embarrassingly short since his sudden growth spurt.

"What can we do? Dad already submitted the official forms, now we just have to show up for the exams," Ayumu responded not liking the situation very much either. Dad had talked about finding something he was looking for, but Ayumu couldn't fathom what. He was happy with his life, helping out at the restaurant and playing sports and getting pretty decent grades; those were the principles his life revolved around and he was completely content with it.

"Paying to learn how to cook is stupid," his sister continued to gripe. "A culinary school is probably just gonna teach easy recipes anyway."

Suddenly her phone vibrated prompting her to pull it out of her skirt pocket, answering it almost immediately when she saw her dad's number flash across the screen, appropriately nicknamed "Baka Oyaji".

"Ah, Souma, are you two there already?"

"Yeah, we're in the parking lot right no─"

Their conversation was interrupted by loud wailing as they entered the academy's parking lot. A couple of students wearing what appeared to be the uniform were sitting on the asphalt, creating quite a scene amongst the sleek black vehicles in the parking lot.

"I failed the advancement test!"

"I'm done for. My life is over."

"Oi, Nee-chan," Ayumu murmured, pulling on one of her sleeves vaguely gesturing to another scene going on. Souma's eye twitched at the amount of black suited... body guards waiting outside the school's entrance.

"I beg you!" the portly man sobbed, pulling at one of the suited men's clothes who was trying to kick him off to no avail. "I'll donate ten million, or even twenty million! Just take back my son's expulsion!"

"What's going on?" she murmured to Ayumu, slightly disturbed by the image. Ayumu shrugged his shoulders, signaling that he didn't know any more than she did. Souma flicked her gaze towards the placard with the schools name on it with an increasingly weary expression.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" her father asked smugly on the other end of the line, effectively reminding her that she was in the middle of a conversation. "That's Japan's top culinary school, with a graduation rate of less than 10%. It's a super elite institution. Best of luck with that, Souma, Ayumu."

The siblings stared at the phone for a moment, uncomprehending.

"Wait dad, explain yourself!"

"If you can't survive that academy until graduation," Joichiro continued regardless. "You can kiss your hopes of surpassing me goodbye as a pipe dream." Souma's eye twitched at the statement, suddenly feeling highly invigorated.

"Just watch me!" she cried, unintentionally ending the call. "Whoops..."

"Should we call him again?" Ayumu asked, gesturing to the phone.

"I don't think we should, international calls are expensive," Souma murmured, glumly remembering how high her phone bill was getting. "If I make any more I'm going to have to go without food for the next month..."

"A pipe dream? Yeah, right," Souma griped under her breath, revisiting the previous conversation with her dad. Ayumu trailed behind her wearily, worried that his sister would make a scene. "I'll definitely make it to graduation!"

Ayumu wasn't wrong, Souma bulldozed by two butlers of all things in her blind determination.

"Ah, sorry," she murmured, realizing what she had done, taking a few steps back to Ayumu's side to bow low to them and repeat the sentiment.

"There's no need to apologize," a soft voice, assured her. Instead of one of the butlers it was the boy currently seated on the nearest bench who spoke. His eyes were closed in contentment, sipping a cup of tea as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. He turned his still closed gaze to them, smiling pleasantly. "You two are both applying for a transfer, right? Why don't the both of you have a seat?"

"I'm actually taking the entrance exam for the junior division," Ayumu corrected politely, already disliking this supposedly pleasant boy; he stank of spoiled childhood and upper tier prejudice. Meanwhile his sister nodded pleasantly.

"I see along with that there are high school qualifying exam results being announced for Totsuki's junior division and exams being held for people like us hoping to transfer in," the boy informed them, gesturing to the crowds of students. "No wonder things are pretty lively today…"

"Ah, I see…" Souma murmured, nodding in understanding. Ayumu on the other hand tried to refrain from glaring vehemently at the twerp as he saw the pompous rich boy's eyes rake over his sister's frame.

"I'm Nikaido Yoshiaki. My family runs a French restaurant," Nikaido introduced politely. Souma scrunched her eyebrows at that, she didn't like the way he stated his family's restaurant, almost as if he was looking for validation or special treatment.

"What a coincidence, ours runs one as well," Ayumu cut in, resisting the urge to seat himself between Nikaido and his sister, but stayed tense and ready to strangle the boy should the need arise.

"That may not be such a coincidence," Nikaido responded easily, gesturing vaguely to the mass of students milling around in various uniforms. "Almost everyone here has a cooking industry pedigree of some sort."

"Hm…" both siblings hummed simultaneously, saving the knowledge for a later time.

"What's your place's name?" Nikaido asked, inclining his head politely.

"Oh. Yukihira," Souma responded easily and Ayumu nodded beside her, eyes narrowing as the boy seemed to be trying to identify their restaurant.

"Yukihira…" Nikaido mused lightly, rolling the name over his tongue. "A traditional Japanese restaurant, then?"

"Oh, we're not that high-brow," Souma corrected him lightly, seeming unperturbed with answering him in such a straightforward manner. "We're a diner downtown─"

"Please remove yourself from that seat immediately."

"Wha─?"

Before either Souma or Ayumu could react Nikaido's butlers were hoisting them out of their seats, roughly throwing Ayumu to the grown while settling Souma down much more gently, but still in a very rude manner. Both of them stared at the boy in shock, wondering where his pleasant façade had gone as a demonic aura began to spill from him.

"How dare you sit next to me," he hissed out, his eyes suddenly open wide at an almost horror movie level as he began yelling, "You low-class commoners! To think I thought the redheaded young lady to be attractive! Listen up! This academy isn't for the likes of you! It is a sacred grove, meant as a place for learning for denizens of the upper echelons of the food industry."

Nikaido place his teacup next onto the bench, glaring down at the two of them and spreading his arms in a grandiose gesture.

"That's the kind of place Totsuki Teahouse Culinary Academy is!" Souma watched him with growing exasperation, wondering how it was possible for a person to be that obsessed with social standing, not to mention the standards of this school. Ayumu on the other hand was watching with growing annoyance, wondering if he could hit the boy then and there, he would if he dared insult them one more time. "Low-borns like you won't even make it past the written exam─"

Nikaido was abruptly cut off by Ayumu grabbing him by his fancy uniform shirt, nearly strangling him. The young brunette had barely managed to get ahold of the elitist ass before his sister, who was currently fuming behind him, effectively blocking off the two butlers who were watching with horror.

"You haven't even tried Yukihara's food!" Souma snapped, her voice strained as she glared up at the choking boy, flipping her long pony tail over one shoulder with an expression that would've made their father think twice of disobeying her. "You don't get to judge our quality!"

With that Ayumu threw the sorry excuse for a boy to the ground, following his sister who had already stalked past in a whirlwind of red hair, looking like a war goddess on a rampage. Around them even more elitist snobs were also giving their two cents, making Ayumu flinch and wish he could make them eat those words, especially when they started targeting their restaurant.

"Look, people from a diner think they can even enter."

"Such a shame too, that girl's beautiful."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"They should know their place."

"Ne, Ayumu?" Souma asked kindly, looking over her shoulder at him. Ayumu held back a gulp when he saw the sheer determination and anger swirling in her golden eyes, man his sister was downright scary when she wanted to be.

"H-hai?"

"I think this is my room right here," she pointed to the nearest door. Huh, he hadn't even realized, they were already inside the building, surrounded by stone walls and fine architecture that just screamed wealth. All the same he glanced at the tall wooden doors his sister was gesturing and low and behold right next to the door were several sheets of paper with a collection of names listed, his sister's being one of them. Souma gave him an apologetic look, before glancing down the hallway trying to find the one with his own, "Will you be alright finding yours?"

"I think so," he murmured squinting towards the door at the end of the hall, wondering if that was really his name or just a trick of the light.

"Okay then," Souma murmured gently, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his forehead, even though they were practically the same height now. "I hope you don't get a pompous ass for an examiner."

"Hopefully," Ayumu murmured finally regaining his nonchalant demeanor once more. "I hope you don't either, Nee-chan."

"Thanks for that," she giggled, throwing him one more glance before she entered the room.

"Why are there no guys in this hall?" Souma thought out loud, looking around the immaculate hall with skeptical eyes. The girl nearest to her sniffed disdainfully, Souma raised an eyebrow in confusion, taking in the girl's appearance. Her long black hair falling around her in perfectly styled waves had some foreign citrus scent that Souma knew wouldn't work well in a kitchen. Her face was done up with make up making her look quite lovely, but seemed so impractical for a chef, there was a string of pearls resting around her throat to match her earrings, not a hair tie in sight.

"It's obvious they separated males and females," she bit out haughtily and Souma inwardly berated herself for not specifying she wanted a reason why they were separated, not just the lack of testosterone.

"Ah, ahem, ladies may I call your attention?" a soft, pleasant voice asked. Standing in the front of the room was a handsome young man wearing what Souma would assume was the school's kitchen uniform. Rainy white hair covered his forehead and ran down the nape of his neck, complimenting his pale violet tinted eyes. "My name is Tsukasa Eishi, I will be overseeing your exams today."

Trivia: Ayumu's name wasn't chosen at random; it comes from the Japanese 歩 (ayu) meaning "walk" and 夢 (mu) meaning "dream/vision". I wanted to point out how Ayumu technically has everything a Totsuki student would want, hence the rough translation of "walking the dream", referring to his innate ability in cooking despite his unwillingness to practice it and his enviable heritage.

ps. too long?