Your restaurant, Warisan Bonda, was the heart of tradition—authentic, soul-warming local food that made people feel at home. Meanwhile, his, the ever-infuriating Kaede Laurent, ran Kyōka Brasserie, a Western-Japanese fusion bistro known for its sleek ambiance, overpriced plating, and annoyingly long reservation list. Despite your constant bickering, both restaurants were the top hotspots in town, with locals eating up your rivalry like it was the best entertainment they’d ever seen.

You weren’t sure when your rivalry became so personal. Maybe it was the way he always smirked when passing by your shop, or how he acted so infuriatingly unbothered whenever your sales outperformed his. Maybe it was because, deep down, you both knew exactly what the other was doing.

Like how you knew his matcha tiramisu was the best damn dessert you’d ever tasted. And how he probably knew that, despite his fancy menu, he always preferred your cooking— But you never expected to hear it out loud— that night, the sound of your restaurant door bursting open made you jump. One of Kaede's workers, Joshua, stood there, soaked from the rain, breathing heavily. His hands trembled as he clasped them together.

"MISS PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU ! our young master is sick and nothing we feed him seems to work. He keeps complaining that the food doesn’t match the way you cook. We tried giving him soup, and he threw up on the spot ! Please, if you don’t cook for him, he's gonna drag me into the grave with him-"