“Five seconds til we’re live. Four, three, two…”

The floor director’s fingers carved out the countdown.

Teito Television’s new Sunday morning program, Together with the Demon King.

Its memorable first broadcast was just about to begin.

The set was a kitchen studio so fancy and pastel-colored it felt like it would melt your brain.

Illustrations of bears and rabbits danced across the walls and all the cooking utensils were unified in pink and light blue.

Only two people were on screen.

One was a huge man dressed head to toe in black—a black suit with a black apron—me, Akutsu Jō.

The other was a girl wearing a pure white apron with excessive frills—the national top idol, Himemiya Alice.

“Cue!”

The ON AIR lamp lit up red.

“…Yo. Thanks for waking up early on a Sunday morning.”

I glared into the camera and let out a gravelly low voice.

“This show is a correctional facility meant to straighten out your weak stomachs and rotten eating habits. If you’ve got time to change the channel, go grab some ingredients from your fridge.”

An opening that completely ignored the script.

The AD holding the cue cards was rolling his eyes back, but I didn’t care and looked to my side.

“…Greetings.”

“Y-yes! Good morning, everyone~♡”

Alice flashed a professional idol smile straight at the camera.

Nervous?

Not even a hint of it.

She was a top star who sang and danced in front of tens of thousands of people.

Shrinking in front of a camera wasn’t in her nature.

“I’m the assistant, Himemiya Alice! Today, together with Demon King-san, we’ll be making some delicious food☆”

Perfect.

Her friendliness, her tone of voice, her eye contact with the camera.

But I knew.

What lay beneath that smile was bottomless ignorance.

“Today’s menu is omurice.”

I pointed at the ingredients.

Onions, carrots and green peppers.

The representative vegetables kids hate.

“First is prep work. Alice, mince the onion.”

“Okaaay! I’m really looking forward to cooking!”

Alice replied innocently and stood in front of the cutting board.

Then she picked up the kitchen knife placed there.

At that instant—

The studio air froze solid.

“Umm… like this?”

Alice tilted her head cutely as she held the knife.

But the way she held it was clearly abnormal.

She wasn’t gripping the handle properly.

Her index finger rested on the spine of the blade—which was fine—but her thumb was touching the belly of the blade, the cutting edge.

Worse still, the tip of the knife wobbled without direction and was actually pointing toward her own left wrist.

“…H-huh?”

Alice said with a smile.

“Which side cuts, again? This side? Or this one?”

As she tried to check, she was about to trace the blade with her own finger.

“Hiiiii!!”

A scream came from the wings of the studio.

It was her sister, Himemiya Maria.

Her face was deathly pale, one hand clamped over her mouth as she nearly foamed at the mouth and collapsed.

The staff all gasped and even the cameraman’s hands shook.

Only Alice herself looked completely clueless.

“Manager-san, what’s wrong?”

This idiot…

She wasn’t calm.

She simply didn’t know what danger even was.

This was the end result of a sheltered life where her sister managed everything and never let her touch even a single blade.

“…Give it.”

I stepped forward.

At this rate, a splatter scene would be broadcast into living rooms on a Sunday morning.

“Eh? But I’m supposed to cut it…”

“Just give it. Are you trying to lose a finger?”

I moved behind Alice.

Then, wrapping around her from behind, I firmly grabbed her small hands from above, enclosing both of her arms.

It was what people would call a back hug.

But there was no romance in it.

This was a lock, like an emergency stop to control a machine gone out of control.

“Wooa…”

Alice let out a carefree sound.

“Jō-san’s hands are really big. They’re warm♡”

“Don’t talk. Watch your hands.”

I whispered low into Alice’s ear.

“Listen. A blade isn’t your enemy, but it’s not your friend either. Think of it as a wild beast that bites the moment you let your guard down.”

I corrected her fingers one by one and made her grip the knife with the proper hold.

Her left hand formed a cat’s paw, fingers curled inward to protect them.

The blade faced outward.

“I’ll move it. Relax your strength.”

“Y-yes.”

I lifted the knife together with her hands and placed the blade against the onion.

Chop.

“Ah…”

Alice’s eyes widened.

“It went in…”

“That’s right. Don’t force it down. Pull it.”

I manipulated her hands and began to set the rhythm.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

A steady rhythm.

A steady angle.

My technique took form through Alice’s hands.

“Wow… Amazing, amazing!”

Alice’s voice bounced with excitement.

“It’s cutting! I’m cutting! Mr. Onion is falling apart!”

“Don’t look away.”

I lightly pressed her head toward the cutting board with my chin.

“Feel the fibers of the vegetables. There’s a moment when the resistance disappears. There.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The pleasant sound echoed through the studio.

The confusion faded from Alice’s face and was replaced with curiosity.

A world she had been kept away from with words like ‘It’s dangerous.’

Things breaking, changing shape and turning into ingredients.

Her eyes began to sparkle as she tasted that primitive joy.

“This is fun! Cooking is fun!”

“Hmph. It’s not a game. Next is fire.”

After finishing the vegetables, I guided Alice to the stove.

I placed a frying pan on it and lit the flame.

Whoosh!

A pale blue flame sprang up.

Normally, someone would pull back at least a little, but Alice leaned closer saying, “Wow, pretty!”

Your bangs are going to catch fire, idiot.

“Don’t space out. You’ll burn.”

I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her away, then wrapped my arms around her from behind again.

This time, we held the handle of the frying pan together.

“Put in the butter. Listen to the sound of it melting.”

Sssss…

The solid butter turned liquid and a sweet, savory aroma filled the air.

“Smells so good…”

“Now. Put the vegetables in.”

Clatter!

When the chopped vegetables were tossed in, steam rose with a loud crackle.

“Woah!”

Alice stiffened slightly in surprise for the first time.

“Don’t panic. Don’t fear the fire—control it.”

I used Alice’s wrist to toss the pan.

Clang, clang.

Colorful vegetables danced through the air.

Heat.

Sound.

Smell.

Faced with a torrent of information directly stimulating all five senses, Alice wore an intoxicated expression.

“It’s amazing… Like it’s alive…”

“That’s right. Cooking is live. One second too late and it turns into trash. Keep up.”

“Yes!”

Alice’s tone changed from a spoiled sweetness to seriousness.

She desperately tried to follow my movements.

Dragged out of the greenhouse called her sister and into a world of heat and blades.

This was my way.

Ketchup in, rice in, wrap it with eggs.

With me as training wheels, Alice unquestionably completed the dish with her own hands.

“It’s done…”

On the plate sat an omurice, steam rising from it.

Alice stared at it as if she couldn’t believe it.

“This is… the omurice I made…”

“Eat it.”

I handed her a spoon.

“You sweated, fought with fire and made this yourself. There’s no way it doesn’t taste good.”

Alice hesitantly scooped some up and brought the yellow egg and red rice to her mouth.

Bite.

Chew, chew…

She froze.

Then—

Alice’s face lit up brilliantly.

“It’s delicious!!”

It was more real than any food commentary she had ever done on TV.

“What is this, amazing! It’s totally different from what I usually eat! It’s hot! The flavor feels so strong!”

“Of course it does. That’s what you call ‘freshly made.’”

I crossed my arms.

“It’s not some cold lunch someone else made for you. It’s the taste you just created.”

“I… created it…”

Alice clenched the spoon, trembling.

Then she looked up at me with moist eyes.

“It’s like magic… I thought I couldn’t do anything. That without my sister, I couldn’t do anything… But that’s not true…”

“Yeah. You just didn’t know how.”

I put a hand on Alice’s head and roughly messed up her hair.

“Tools are meant to be used. Don’t be used by them. The knife, the fire and your own life.”

Alice’s face flushed bright red.

From emotion, excitement or something else entirely.

She breathed hotly and gazed at me in a daze.

“Jō-san… I want to know more. About cooking… and about you too…♡”

“…That last part’s unnecessary.”

I replied curtly and turned back to the camera.

“See that. Even a princess who’s never held a knife can make this much if she’s motivated. Stop making excuses, you guys in front of the screen.”

I grinned.

“If there’s something you want to eat, make it yourself. Grab it with your own hands. That’s the Demon King’s food education.”

“Okay, cut!”

“That was amazing!!”

Applause erupted through the studio.

In the wings, Maria was biting down on a handkerchief and screaming emotionally, “Alice-chan… with a knife… She’s grown… But that man is standing way too close to her!”

“Great work, Papa!”

Alice tried to jump into my arms with a beaming smile, but I stopped her with one hand.

“I’m not your papa. Before the next recording, mince onions—one hundred of them.”

“Eeh~!? One hundred!?”

Alice puffed out her cheeks, but her eyes looked happy.

“Okay! I’ll secretly practice without telling my sister! So please teach me lots more next time too, Papa♡”

“…I said cut it out with the papa.”

Good grief.

Looks like I’d gained a troublesome disciple.

I sighed and took off my black apron.

Well, not bad.

At least she wasn’t just a puppet anymore.

She was an apprentice who knew the weight of a knife and the heat of fire.

“Let’s go. Saotome’s waiting with the car.”

“Ah, wait for meee~!”

I left the studio.

My steps felt just a little lighter than when I came in.