SH_C29_CHAPTER 29: HOW DID IT COME TO THIS

 **I think this is the song that Ageha is humming in today's chapter~ 

29. How Did It Come to This!?

Flanked by two grown men, I was dragged off to the kitchen of the inn-slash-eatery next door, like a scene straight out of a sci-fi flick where aliens abduct humans.

The kitchen had the vibe of a retro 1950s Japanese home—compact and a little nostalgic. On the counter were a block of pork, some eggs, breadcrumbs, and flour, already prepped and waiting.

“Can a brat like this really cook?”

The skeptical voice came from the inn’s young proprietor—a sharp-eyed guy with light brown hair and no eyebrows. Apparently, he’d been running the place with his mom since his dad passed away last year.

He had a bit of a wild past, got tangled up with the wrong crowd, and was famously straightened out by Roland. Now he couldn’t really talk back to the man.

From what I’d learned from Romanov-sensei on the way here, most of the shopkeepers in Kikunoi had some sort of debt or favor owed to Roland. With no merchants’ guild or craftsmen’s guild in the area, the shopping district ran on tight-knit relationships, and Roland was basically the unofficial community leader.

That’s probably why Father asked Roland to help spread word about the tax cut—as the local figurehead, he had the reach and influence.

Anyway, back to the main topic.

I climbed onto a small stool and borrowed an apron, a kitchen knife, and a cutting board. The blade appeared extremely sharp, prompting me to take extra precautions.

After thoroughly washing my hands, I placed the pork on the board. That’s when the browless guy barked:

“That knife’s razor sharp! Don’t you go cutting your fingers off!”

“Thank you, I’ll be careful.”

 

The pork was a beautiful shade of pink with a layer of soft, pearly white fat. I let the blade glide through it, slicing it smoothly into thick, even cuts.

Then, placing one piece flat, I made a few shallow cuts between the meat and the fat to break up the muscle fibers. Using the spine of the knife, I pounded the pork until it was uniformly tender and even.

My hum for the task? The Parade of the Wooden Soldiers. A classic.

Once the meat was prepped, I seasoned it generously with salt and pepper. Pepper wasn’t dirt-cheap here, but not precious either, so I didn’t hold back.

As the seasoning soaked in, I started cracking eggs and set out separate plates for flour and breadcrumbs. But my tiny hands made it hard to handle smoothly.

That’s when the browless guy huffed and entered the kitchen.

“What now? I beat the eggs or something?”

“Yes, please mix them thoroughly first.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He stirred quickly with chopsticks, whipping the eggs nicely. Ideally, we’d use a tray or shallow pan, but we made do with what we had.

Still grumpy, he asked again:

“Then what?”

“Dust the pork with flour, then shake off the excess.”

“Okay. Next?”

“Dip it in the egg, make sure it’s fully coated. Then cover it in breadcrumbs.”

“Done… Shake off the crumbs too?”

“Yes, then repeat the flour, egg, and breadcrumbs once more.”

“Again?”

Though he grumbled, he handled the pork with surprising care. I started prepping the oil, but he stopped me.

“It’s dangerous. I’ll do it.”

So while he took charge of the frying oil, I began shredding cabbage like a machine.

Soon, he dipped chopsticks into the pot to test the heat—tiny bubbles formed. Perfect.

“Fry the pork until it turns a light golden brown. Then let it rest on a rack to drain the oil.”

“Got it…”

He carefully monitored the pork, letting it cook slowly and evenly. Once it was golden, he took it out and raised the oil temperature slightly.

“Now what?”

“When bubbles go crazy around the chopsticks, toss the pork back in to crisp up the coating.”

“Right…”

While he double-fried the meat, I arranged the shredded cabbage on plates. From the fridge, I borrowed a lemon and some daikon.

I made grated daikon, cut a lemon wedge, and mixed up a quick ponzu sauce with vinegar, soy sauce, and lemon juice.

“Here we go—tonkatsu!”

“So this is it…”

Romanov-sensei took the first bite.

The crunch of the coating echoed satisfyingly, and Roland followed up with a big bite of his own.

“Whoa! This is awesome! Crispy outside, juicy inside—meat’s tender, and the flavor’s incredible.”

“Filling too. Quite impressive.”

“You can add lemon, ponzu with grated daikon, or just salt or soy sauce. If it gets cold, you can simmer it in a sweet-savory broth with onions and pour beaten egg on top—still delicious!”

While they excitedly sampled the tonkatsu in all its variations, the browless guy finally picked up his chopsticks and cautiously took a bite.

Crunch.

He chewed thoughtfully, then tried a few bites with lemon and ponzu.

Then—bam!—he suddenly bowed his head deeply.

“I’m sorry for calling you ‘just a brat’ earlier!”

“Wha—!?” No, it’s fine, really…”

I am just a brat, and I probably came off super cheeky, too.

But the guy was clearly serious—and still hadn't lifted his head.

Before I could think of what to say next, he dropped to one knee at my feet.

“From now on, please let me call you Master!”



… HOW DID IT COME TO THIS!?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Eunie here~ 2nd extra chapter for today. I think I'll be able to post another chapter since this one was pretty short. I really love translating cooking stuff. Ahh the sizzling sound of the oil as you carefully try to place the meat covered in batter and then the smell of the katsudon wafting in the air~nyam nyam. 

Do you guys know any wn with shoujo fluff and cooking that needs to be translated? Thanks for reading~

PREVIOUS                              INDEX                              NEXT