Anorexia isn't about hating food.
It's about fear.
The fear of food. The fear of tasting something that turns into revulsion.
The fear of being disappointed, again and again, until your body gives up—and your heart does too.
Sometimes, food doesn't look like food at all.
It's just… an object. A meaningless shape on a plate.
And sometimes, just smelling it brings waves of nausea.
People like Erina. People like Mana.
They live with that every day.
They appear cold. Distant. Arrogant.
But deep down, they don't hate food—they long for it. Desperately.
They just can't find it. The one dish that will make them feel alive again.
Zane understood this.
He could eat from street vendors, try fried skewers and octopus balls without a second thought.
But Erina couldn't.
Not because she was arrogant. Not because she thought it was beneath her.
But because the God's Tongue wouldn't allow it.
Her body, conditioned by Azami's brutal upbringing and the inescapable curse of her taste buds, simply rejected those "ordinary" flavors.
To her, they weren't food—they were poison.
Even a single bite could trigger her body's defense mechanisms—retching, shaking, nausea.
No one else could see that.
To most people, her aversion looked like pride. Elitism. Spoiled behavior.
But Zane saw the truth. He saw the pain behind her perfectionism.
Mana, too, suffered in silence.
Once upon a time, she used to love sweets. She would stop by a cake shop just to indulge in a single bite of something she liked.
But even that small joy began to slip away.
One day, even her favorites began to feel off. Tasteless. Revolting.
She tried to force herself. Forced her body to eat. Forced herself to act normal.
But it was useless.
Each bite felt like insects crawling down her throat, infiltrating her stomach, attacking her already frail body.
The only thing she could do was search—search for a dish that could make her feel again.
And after years of disappointment, her relationship with food transformed into obsession.
So when Zane's Comet Fried Rice finally reached her, finally touched her… she knew the danger immediately.
She'd become addicted.
To the taste. To the feeling. To him.
If there came a day she could no longer eat Zane's food…
It would be more painful than death.
A terrifying thought—but also strangely comforting.
Because for the first time in years, she wanted something again.
Zane could see that concern in her eyes.
And yet, he smiled.
"Don't worry."
"There will be more dishes that satisfy your God's Tongue."
"If you're ever hungry, come to the tavern. I'll cook for you again."
"In this world… the only chef who can completely conquer the God's Tongue—besides me—doesn't exist."
His voice was calm. Unshakable.
And something about that certainty made Mana's breath catch.
She looked at him, her gaze intense… but also soft.
"Then I'll be waiting."
"Let's see just how far you can go, Zane… under the gaze of the God's Tongue."
With that, she turned and walked out into the night.
Anne hesitated for a moment, confused by Mana's sudden departure, but quickly paid the bill and chased after her.
The tavern, having stayed open far past closing time, finally dimmed its lights.
[Ding!]
[Check-in complete!]
[Congratulations, host! You've unlocked a new special recipe: Frozen Sea Bream Iceberg!]
Zane blinked.
"Frozen Sea Bream Iceberg?"
He immediately recognized it.
Another legendary dish from Chuuka Ichiban.
A stark contrast to the fiery Reincarnation Spring Roll—this was a dish of ice and elegance.
Thin slices of fresh snapper, layered delicately over a crystalline block of ice.
In the original, it was paired with the Heavenly North Star Wolf Blade, whose icy aura preserved the fish and enhanced its flavor—turning every bite into a chilling revelation.
If Reincarnation Spring Roll was a blazing flame, then this dish was the frozen edge of a northern wind.
Two extremes. Fire and ice. Heat and chill. Yin and yang.
Zane couldn't help but get excited.
This was more than a dish—it was art.
But then he remembered…
Tomorrow morning, he had to attend a formal reception at Shunkatei with Sonoka.
Sighing, he tucked the joy away for later, washed up, and went to bed.
The tavern grew quiet once more.
The next morning.
Inside a lab-like cooking room at Totsuki Academy, Alice Nakiri was already immersed in her next experiment.
Molecular gastronomy.
She moved with precision, almost surgical in her execution.
First, she separated strawberry leaves from the flesh, cubed the fruit, and mixed it with fine sugar to make a vibrant jam.
She blanched the leaves and soaked them in strawberry liqueur, finishing them with a dusting of powdered sugar before chilling.
Next, she vacuum-sealed the cubed strawberries and heated them gently to release their full aroma.
Then into the blender they went—along with milk, cream, condensed milk, softened gelatin sheets—until the mixture was smooth and rich.
After sieving and cooling, she poured the mixture into a siphon bottle charged with nitrous oxide, shaking it until it foamed perfectly.
That foam was then frozen using a Dewar flask of liquid nitrogen, transforming it into a fluffy, ethereal strawberry ice cream.
But Alice wasn't done.
The remaining syrup was dried into a thick concentrate, which she carefully sculpted into a shell, shaping it like a real strawberry using the glass-blowing technique.
Finally, she assembled the dessert:
A strawberry, made entirely from strawberries.
Fake—yet real. Illusion—yet flavor.
The kind of dish that could confuse the senses… and amaze the tongue.