"You've improved," Colby told Blanche on their first week back in class. She relaxed her shoulders and stopped shaking upon hearing the compliment, but her relief was premature. "You no longer embarrass me. You only disappoint me. Your salad is underseasoned, you've done nothing to bring out the essence of the cheese, and your presentation is that of a farmer."

The class cringed on her behalf as she held her tears and retreated back to her station. She hadn't been the only one. Colby had withheld his worst criticisms most of the week and now unleashed them during dish evaluations. Archie wanted to tell Blanche that it was okay—that she really had gotten better and shouldn't be ashamed. But when she caught him looking at her, she scrunched up her nose and looked away.

"That's six disappointments in a row," Colby announced. "You've been without proper cooking instruction for an entire calendar year, and it shows. You all had your fun last semester, but it's time for you to make good on what you learned. Essence manipulation. Precise, deliberate manipulation. Last year, you learned how to plainly cook. This year, that won't be good enough. If a non-Chef can make a dish better than you, you have failed. Now who's next?"

Archie kept his eyes down, as did everyone else but Yarrow.

"Yarrow. Come on up. Disappointment number seven is due."

Yarrow wiped a bit of stray sauce from his dish and marched to the front of the class.

"Describe your dish."

Yarrow cleared his throat of any insecurity. "Pan-seared salmon with a creamy sauce of charred leek served on rice."

"This is your dish? I've heard so much about the most-improved Yarrow, and yet you serve something this simple?"

"The flavor will speak for itself."

Colby shook his head and chuckled. Everyone could see how badly he wanted the dish to be bad, which made it all the sweeter when his face relaxed and his eyebrows raised upon his first taste. He chewed twice as long as he needed to and took a second bite.

"Yarrow has broken the streak," he announced as he slid the plate back to Yarrow. "Well-cooked, you brought the essence out, I applaud your restraint in using simple ingredients. The char on the leeks was good, but it just called out how subpar the char on the salmon was. Work on getting that crisp, and don't heat your cream up so much."

"Thank you, Head Chef."

"Alright! Next up! Who can prolong my mild satisfaction?"

Once again, everyone looked away. Colby was a harsh grader after having something he hated, but he was even worse after having something he liked. It was like all the mean in him got delayed to the next dish. Blanche sniffled, prompting Archie to look up and accidentally volunteer himself.

"Archie! Come on up. What do you have for me today? Is that pasta? How original for you."

Archie hid his anxiety as he walked to the front of the class. He had fought in front of thousands, surely he could withstand a bit of punishment in front of thirteen peers. "I prepared a mint pesto pasta with ricotta cream."

"Mint, huh?" Colby demolished the neatly stacked noodles with his fork, scattering them across the plate to assess the distribution of sauce. He took the plainest bite he could find and shook his head. "And the streak is back on. Archie, what is this? What have you been doing?"

"It—it's pasta. I've been making pasta."

"No, what have you been doing? It's been several months. I've seen you around. You've been working toward something that I'm not finding. Why isn't it here? What have you been doing?"

Archie straightened his neck. He wouldn't show any more weakness that could be pounced upon. "I've been training to fight."

"Oh, dear Ambrosia. Tarragon's got his little hooks in you. This!" Colby slammed his pointer down on the counter. "This is being a Chef. Taste it. Tell me what you did wrong."

Archie ate a forkful of pasta. It tasted light. Minty. The noodles were cooked perfectly. The cheese was subtle, but added the right profile. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure? You're? Not? Sure?" Colby shooed him away. "Make it again. Make it again and again until you realize what's wrong with it. You need to focus, Archie. Your attention is split."

Colby's words hurt, but they didn't hurt as much as briar thorns growing from his skin. Archie took the criticism without complaint. "Yes, Head Chef Colby. I'll work on it."

"See that you do."

But before Archie could leave, he had one more thing to say. He whispered it so that only Colby would hear. "Take it easy on Blanche."

"What?" Colby asked. Then he yelled. "What? Take it easy on Blanche? What are you, her boyfriend?"

"No, I—"

"Blanche! Get up here!"

The class held their breath. News of their break-up had already been spread, dissected, and discussed, giving a tremendous weight to the moment. Blanche squeezed her hands tight together and made her way to the front. She glared at Archie—it was clear she hated standing next to him even more than she did in front of Colby.

Colby pointed at the pasta. "Tell me what's wrong with his dish."

Blanche took a small bite, keeping her eyes fixed to the counter the entire time. "The mint is overpowering."

Colby slammed his hand on the table. "There you go! Blanche can tell me what's wrong with your dish, so why can't you?"

"I'm sorry," Archie said to them both at the same time.

"Tomorrow, Archie, you're in here with me. Weekend class. You're going to learn a thing or two."

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"My fight is tomorrow."

"Oh my. Okay, if you want to stay a bad cook, stay a bad cook. Go. Go go. Back to your places. Actually, everyone, we're taking a break. I'm going to go puke so I can make room for the rest of your slop. Come back in fifteen, or stay here and work on your dish during the break."

The class burst into motion, everyone shuffling and eager to get out of the toxic air of the room. Archie returned to his station and took a couple more bites, but he wasn't in the headspace to improve. He wanted to smash something. Fern didn't know what was coming.

Archie took the entirety of the fifteen minute break walking to his practice spot down in the forest. He had found a particular patch of perfectly spaced, strong trees, letting him practice swinging on noodles and contracting them to land on the thick branches. He launched a thin, wide noodle that punctured the bark of a tree and frayed and curled to anchor itself to the trunk underneath. While Colby and the rest of class would wonder where Archie went, he trained.

After about half an hour, he needed a drink, so he walked back toward the greenhouse's well.

Where he ran into Blanche.

"You're skipping, too?" he asked.

She looked at him with a painfully neutral expression. He missed when she smiled at him. He wished she'd at least scowl. She pulled her half-full bucket away from the pump and walked back toward the greenhouse. "Don't talk to me, Archie. And don't talk for me."

Archie took his frustration out on the pump, dousing his head in water. But it wasn't enough. He stomped back to the forest with renewed rage.

Fern didn't know what was coming to him.

"Alright, Archie!" Peach clapped as Archie returned to the fighter's lounge from the arena floor. "You have a real eye for pace, you know? When you ripped Fern's onion apart in the first few seconds, I thought you were going to end things. That was smart to let him run away and recoup his defense. The crowd liked that."

"I knew he couldn't beat me, so I thought it'd be good practice," Archie said. He scratched his arm as he caught his breath.

"Does that hurt? I saw he got you."

"It's okay."

"Hey!" Peach yelled out to the room. "I need a Veratore over here."

"I'm fine. He just whipped me with chives. Barely even broke skin, and Competitive Spirit did its job."

"Better safe than sorry." Peach patted Archie on the shoulder. "You're gonna be my prize cow, you know that? People love seeing you fight."

A Veratore ushered Archie to one of the lounge's padded tables and assessed his arm. "Hm, give me a bit of essence," she said. Once Archie obliged, she shook her head. "Your pathways are off. I'll get you sorted, just lie back."

Archie laid down and closed his eyes. After raging for the past day, he found a peaceful calm. Maybe he owed Colby a thanks. Regardless of the Head Chef's intentions, Archie had put his inspiration to good use training.

"You're a show-fighter."

Archie opened his eyes to see Tataki standing on the other side of the Veratore. He groaned. "What do you want?"

"I wondered what kind of fighter you were. You're a show-fighter."

"Is this you trying to be helpful again?"

"You're all presentation. Flash. You've thought up all these fancy ways to fight, and even when it works, you don't finish. You could've beaten that boy five times. But you prolonged the fight. He could have surprised you. The best fighter doesn't always win."

Archie closed his eyes. "I'm resting."

"You hesitated to end the fight. If you don't make choices, choices will be made for you."

Archie had it with the advice. First Colby, now Tataki. They were both just arrogant. They weren't trying to help him. They were just trying to make themselves feel superior. And Tataki couldn't do anything to Archie—he was Peach's prize cow. "That's rich coming from someone that doesn't make his own choices. Did the Harpers tell you to watch my fight? To check up on me? Are you grooming me for something?"

Silence. Archie opened an eye expecting to see anger, but instead, Tataki looked pensive. Sad, even.

"I make my own choices," he said. "As many as I'm allowed."

"What does that even mean?"

"I make my own choices," Tataki repeated. He walked away mumbling. "I make my own choices."

Archie waited on the stairs going down from the great hall. He had defeated Fern. He had caused Tataki to sulk and slink away. Now it was Colby's turn.

"Archie. Don't be late," Colby said as he started down the stairs.

"Actually, I was wanting to talk to you."

Colby's impatience showed early. "Talk while you walk."

"It's about Blanche."

Colby sighed. "What now?"

"You need to take it easy on her."

"Archie, I've been teaching Chefs for as long as you've been alive. I know my ways can seem mean at times, but I know how to teach better than you." Colby stopped and gave Archie a look that would have dismantled him just a year prior. But Archie was strong now.

"But you don't know her better than I do."

Colby shook his head and started walking again. "And what do you know?"

"She's a flower. And you keep stomping on her."

"I'm raising her standards so that she'll raise herself."

"Bullshit."

Colby stopped again and stared. "I am a Head Chef, and you'll watch your tone with me."

"All the other Head Chefs, I get it. I see how much they love teaching. But you? I don't see it at all. Why did you start here in the first place?"

"I suggest we put this conversation behind us." Colby went down the stairs faster. Archie jogged to catch up.

"Pomona's a flower too, you know."

Colby turned and pointed hard. "Don't think you know her better than I do," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Archie backed up into the wall. "Fine. But I know Blanche. And I know she's terrified of kitchens. You're just driving her away and making her miserable. She'll never improve if you make her give up on cooking. Get over your own ego and change the way you teach her."

Colby lowered his finger. A glint of respect showed in his eye, sneaking past his anger. "If you talk to me like this again, you'll have a problem. Do it in front of the other students, and I'll have you out of here that day. Do we understand each other?"

"I understand you as long as you understand me."

Colby turned and started down the stairs again. Archie knew well enough to give the man a bit of space before heading to his class.

An hour later, Colby was through twelve students' béchamel sauces and growing grumpier by the minute. Mindy was the only one to have avoided being called an embarrassment, and Archie and Blanche were the last two to try to not incur any wrath.

Archie failed.

"Did your head get knocked in your fight? Are you seeing straight? Can you taste? Did you bother tasting at all while making this? It doesn't seem like you did. Did you give the nutmeg even a moment's thought before you threw it in? Do you think at all? I need you to focus, Archie. Every ingredient matters. Do better next time."

"Yes, Head Chef." Archie smiled. Nothing had changed between them.

Blanche trembled as Colby tasted her sauce. He bared his teeth and took a sharp breath, but then he pursed his lips and breathed in through his nose. Blanche closed her eyes in anticipation.

Colby's voice came out metered with a hint of pained restraint. "You do well with solid ingredients, but your liquids are lacking. I suspect you are good at bringing out essence with your hands, but you need to work on your essence control through utensils. I suggest you focus on that."

Blanche opened her eyes, expecting more. But that was it. "Yes, Head Chef."

Colby took another breath through his nose and addressed the class in his usual, abrasive way. "Fifteen minute break, then we're back to work! And we will! Be! Better!"

A smile crept onto Blanche's face, and when she saw Archie, the smile stayed there.

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