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Akihiko was at his locker, switching to his outdoor shoes, when he heard the familiar rhythm of someone running up to him. For a moment, he hoped it was just Iori or Takeba. But then a girl called out, “Sanada-san!” and he nearly slammed his head against the locker door.
He managed to restrain himself, just barely, instead shutting it gently before turning to the person calling for him. “Look, I’m really not- you’re different,” he said bluntly.
The girl crossed her arms, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Uh, I meant that you’re not one of those girls that follow me around,” he hastily added. She did look a bit more unique than the average student. Her tanned skin and more sporty physique stood out. “Wait. You’re the manager of the track team, aren’t you? Nishiwaki?”
“Yep! And I was hoping you would help me out with something.”
“Right. And what exactly would that be?”
She quickly began explaining that, through a series of events indirectly caused by Yuki, she discovered a genuine love for coaching. “So I want to study to become an athletic trainer,” she concluded, “and Mi- Yuki told me that you have a pretty strict diet and routine. I was wondering if you could, I dunno, look over one of the sample plans I made and give me some pointers?”
Akihiko was… oddly impressed by her passion. Most people, even others on the boxing team or in SEES, found his regimen amusing or even unnecessary. Nishiwaki seemed to truly want to excel at being a trainer. While he didn’t know her well- or even at all- a common love for health was worth encouraging.
“I can’t help you tonight,” he eventually answered. Yuki had already made it clear there’d be a Tartarus run that night in preparation for the next night’s Full Moon. “But if you’re free Thursday after school… I think I can make some time.”
They met at the takoyaki place in the strip mall. Akihiko heard some girls giggling as he approached, which quickly devolved into angry whispers when Nishiwaki waved him over. He ordered two servings, insisting that he’d pay. It wasn’t as if he was lacking in funds.
“Alright,” he said after finishing two of the spheres. “Show me what you got.”
Nishiwaki nodded, pulling out some sheets of notebook paper from her school bag. Akihiko held his tongue at seeing all the crumpled sheets and chewed pencils inside. Years of studying, working, and living with Mitsuru had made him a bit of a stickler for cleanliness. “I’m starting with the guys on the track team since that’s what I know best, and I figure it’s a good place to start? Since running isn’t as intense as, well, boxing,” she said.
Akihiko took the top sheet and read it over. “Stretches, morning jog, track practice… It’s a decent start. But it also depends on their focus.”
“Focus?”
“I assume you have people on the team who are sprinters, those who do the mile, stuff like that. There are different kinds of training for endurance versus speed. You’ll need to factor that in,” he explained. Nishiwaki scribbled something down on a spare napkin. “The same thing goes for boxing. Well, kind of. The point is that there are different exercises for each.”
“Right, right,” Nishiwaki mumbled, still writing. “What about diet? The page is… here,” she said, grabbing the bottommost page. One of the papers fluttered into her takoyaki, staining the page with mayo. “Damn it.”
Akihiko closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, the way Yamagishi had shown him. “Before we go over food, let’s work on your organizational skills. You’re not going to be a competent trainer if you can’t find your notes.”
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I wanted additional training, Sanada-san.” Ken was tying his sneakers but looked up with a withering glare at Akihiko briefly before returning to his laces.
Akihiko repressed a wince. “Yeah, it’s not what I planned, either,” he said. “But it could still work. One of your assets is speed- I think you’re the fastest in the group after Koromaru.”
Ken sat up, still frowning. “He’s a dog. With four legs. Of course, he’s the fastest.”
Akihiko elected to ignore him. “But you’re lacking in stamina. Nishiwaki is more experienced training ki- people younger than us,” he amended at Ken’s indignant scoff. “Look. I know it’s unorthodox, but it’ll help all of us. It’s only for a week.”
Ken settled back in the chair, still looking unsure. Akihiko did have an ace, but he was loath to use it. But if it was the only way to convince him… “You know, I saw some new gachapon at the mall the other day. Had creatures from that shapeshifting alien manga in them,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual.
“They had figures from Extraterrestrial Force? That’s my second favorite series after Fea- wait. I see what you’re doing.” Ken had gotten up, practically bouncing, but now crossed his arms as he realized Akihiko’s ploy.
Akihiko merely shrugged. “Is it working?”
There was a frustrated, somewhat embarrassed groan from Ken, but after a moment, he sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if anybody asks, those figures aren’t for me.”
“I’ll tell them they’re Iori’s,” Akihiko promised with a laugh.
Nishiwaki, to her credit, doesn’t chide or talk down to Ken. She treats him as an underclassman, sure, but not necessarily like a child. Ken takes it in stride and even seems to be enjoying himself. It helps that the regimen she cooked up is feasible and beneficial. Akihiko makes sure to note his approval.
“Thanks! You would think it would be harder to make up something for someone younger than you, but really, all you have to do is give them fewer reps or whatever. It’s actually super easy. Maybe I should focus on student athletes,” she mused.
“That’s not a bad idea. There are a lot of private coaches out there, but most work with adults. If they cater to young people, it’s usually only high schoolers. But,” Akihiko amended, “one plan does not make that your specialty. And kids have different dietary needs, especially when they’re still growing.”
Nishiwaki nodded. “They need more nutrients to grow, right?”
Akihiko watched as Ken finished his final lap in record time. He felt bad that the boy was already so used to pushing himself past his limits, especially for something far more dangerous than a quick jog. “Yeah. There has to be a balance, though. I… I admit I don’t know too much myself. Growing up, I just ate what I got.”
“Oh… well, I’ll make sure I do plenty of research!” Nishiwaki said. “For both you and Amada-kun!” She raised her fists in determination. “The most balanced and tastiest meal plan you’ve ever seen!”
Akihiko couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “I can’t wait to try it.”
Nishiwaki’s meal plan was, somewhat predictably, not perfect.
Oh, it’s more than adequate. There were multiple sources of protein, and a focus on vegetables. The veggies were even partially disguised to make them more palatable to a child’s tastes. But it was strict, far stricter than even Akihiko is on his own diet. There were no desserts. The snacks were repetitive and uninspired. Most glaringly, it didn’t account for the caloric needs of a growing child.
The other problem was that Nishiwaki’s attempts to cook said meals are… Well, they’re better than most things Yamagishi made. Shinji took one look at her attempt to make chicken and miso soup and visibly recoiled. “At least,” Shinji had said, “she didn’t try to put whole lemons in them.”
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” Akihiko replied wearily.
Regardless, Akihiko found himself standing outside a traditional Japanese home- the Nishiwaki residence. He had opted to visit her rather than have her come to the dorms. Besides likely having a larger kitchen, it decreased the chance of her overhearing something about S.E.E.S. Or running into Aigis without her uniform, which would also be related to S.E.E.S., now that he thought about it.
He rang the doorbell, and Nishiwaki opened the door two seconds later, already wearing an apron. “Hey! You didn’t have to bring supplies. I do have a stocked fridge, you know.”
Akihiko shrugged, taking off his shoes. “Sure, but I wasn’t sure which ingredients you had already. It’s not a problem.” They walk into the kitchen and he began laying the ingredients on the counter. “Like I said, the meal plan isn’t bad. You’ve just fallen into a few pitfalls that a lot of budding nutritionists do.”
Nishiwaki nodded. “There isn’t a lot of info on kids’ diets out there, not even online. I even tried going to the library, and they had next to nothing.”
“This isn’t exclusive to meals for kids, but for everybody. The first- well, not mistake, but you assumed that healthy means flavorless. Seasoning food often only marginally changes the nutritional value, but it makes it a lot tastier. Where do you keep your frying pans?”
Nishiwaki fetched one, watching intently as Akihiko finished unpacking. “I didn’t know what spices went together. I was making everything up as I went along.”
The admission reminded him even more of Yamagishi, despite the latter’s recipe adherence. “Wait until you’ve mastered the basics before you start improvising.” He poured some oil into the pan. “Anyway, some diets need more fats and calories in order to maintain a certain physique.”
“Like sumo wrestlers!” Nishiwaki exclaimed.
Akihiko’s eyes widened, and he smiled. “That’s exactly what I was thinking of,” he said, clearly impressed. “You ever see how much sushi they put away? And it’s the good stuff, not the little boxes from a combini.”
Nishiwaki froze for a moment, scrunching her face. “Wait. I’m coaching runners. Sushi probably isn’t what they need,” she said.
“It’s fine as an occasional treat. That’s one of the things you lacked in your meal plan. You need to have some sweet and, quote-unquote, unhealthy things, especially if it’s for kids. Not even Olympians skip cheat days,” Akihiko explained. “So I’m going to show you a recipe a friend gave me. It’s high in protein, has a balance of carbs and veggies, and is appealing to kids. Can you guess what it is from the ingredients?”
He gave her a minute to look over the food he had brought. She narrowed in on the pork quickly, then noticed the panko, onions, and dashi stock. “Is this… katsudon?” Akihiko nodded. “I thought the whole deep frying thing would kill off the whole ‘healthy’ thing.”
“That’s why we’re not going to deep fry,” Akihiko said confidently. “We’re going to bake it.”
Making rice was the easy part. Slicing vegetables presented no issues. Even mixing the sauce posed no real challenge. But the pork. The pork may yet prove to be their undoing.
“The panko isn’t sticking!” Nishiwaki yelled, practically pushing the cutlet into the entire bowl of breadcrumbs. It shook dangerously.
“Were we supposed to-oh. That's what the egg was for,” Akihiko said sheepishly as he went over the recipe again. “Huh. I thought it was another source of protein.”
Nishiwaki looked prepared to shove the raw meat in his face. “You didn't read the instructions first?”
“I did! I- Hey, we need that panko! Stop throwing stuff at me!” His words meant nothing as he was laughing the whole time, panko sticking to his hair. Nishiwaki looked no better, with patches of flour dotting her face and clothes. “Look, we haven’t gotten too far, the oven’s still not up to temperature, do you have an egg we could use instead?”
She did, thankfully, and with a proper binding agent, the rest of the breading process went much smoother. Nishiwaki even apologized when they realized that runny egg was part of the recipe, albeit as a topping. Akihiko had simply only bought the one, so he did admit some fault. “Eggs are on the ingredient list twice,” he said in his defense. “I thought it was a typo.”
“Your face is a typo,” Nishiwaki said, which made absolutely no sense, but Akihiko laughed regardless.
The resulting katsudon was inarguably one of the best things Akihiko had ever made. It was filling and nutrient-dense, yet the slightly tangy and spicy sauce made it extremely palatable. Nishiwaki put extra soy sauce on hers- an abuse of sodium if Akihiko ever saw one- but he was willing to let it slide.
The only argument left was who got the leftovers. “You should keep them,” Akihiko insisted. “You're the one who's going to be training people.”
“And you're the one who is actually training,” Nishiwaki argued back. “And you bought all the ingredients- well, most of them. If it makes you feel any better, I'll keep the recipe. Deal?”
Akihiko tried not to smile, but he knew it was a losing fight. “I really do think you're going to be an excellent coach one day, Nishiwaki-san. Let me know if you ever need a professional recommendation.” Nishiwaki beamed, raising a hand. Akihiko slapped it as gently as he could, but she still winced a bit.
The train ride back to the dorms was uneventful, even as a few people gave him odd looks for carrying a plastic container filled with katsudon. He wasn't entirely sure why; it didn't look any different than taking leftovers or a lunch bag home, in his opinion.
He wasn't entirely sure how long the food would last. Maybe he'd give the leftovers to Shinji. Prove once and for all that he can cook without using protein powder. Yes, he had help, but he reasoned it still counted in the long run.
Akihiko kicked off his shoes as he entered the dorm. Yuki was the only person in the sitting area, but Akihiko could see Takeba’s bob through the frosted glass at the dining table. Yuki looked up from his magazine briefly. “What do you have there?” he asked, not even making a pretense of a proper greeting.
“Katsudon. Nishiwaki asked me to help her learn more about being an athletic trainer. I just got back from-” Akihiko didn't have a chance to finish. Yuki had already stood up, walked over, and taken the plastic container from his hands. “Wh- what was that for?”
Yuki glanced over his shoulder. Akihiko wasn't sure how he could see with the bangs covering his eye. “It’s not fair you got to taste my girlfriend's cooking before me.”
Akihiko started to nod, because that was logical, but then- “Wait, who?” Takeba had jumped up from the table and run over, grinning over the chance for some gossip. Akihiko looked at his now-empty hands, then at the underclassmen before him. He sighed, perhaps a bit affectionately.
Well, maybe he didn't have any food for Shinji, but maybe he'd be up for a little training, too.