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“Producer.”
“Hmm?” Producer glanced over his shoulder. Takane wasn’t walking beside him; instead, she stood in front of a shop reading a large sign.
“What does this mean? ‘O-Gui Rumble, AYCE here next week. Winner gets their meal paid for.’ Is this a show of some sort?”
“Ah, yes, sort of,” Producer chuckled. “It’s a food-eating contest. ‘O-Gui’ means ‘big eater’, and ‘AYCE’ is ‘all you can eat.’ Whoever eats the most gets a free meal.” He rubbed his chin. “Hmm, that’s actually a really good deal. If only I had a larger stomach! I’d never be able to beat those food fighters.”
“Food fighters?” A frown crossed Takane’s face. “Contestants eat and fight each other with food? I did not expect this wasteful practice to be celebrated in a country like Japan.”
“No no, they don’t fight with food,” Producer remarked. “As I said, they only compete by eating as much as they can. Let’s go inside. Maybe we can see what food the fighters will be eating next week.”
It was a rotating sushi store. The place was slow, as the lunch hour rush had died down. The first thing that caught the pair’s eyes was the left wall crammed full of pictures. They were of customers surrounded by stacks of empty plates, some modest and some like skyscrapers under a red-faced moon. Other pictures had autographs underneath, and these photographed people beamed at the camera with a thumbs-up, a little paper certificate noting how many plates they ate, and said towers of plates around them. Takane gazed at them in awe.
“Who is allowed to partake in these challenges?” she asked once she returned to her seat.
A waiter came by with menus and grinned, “Anyone who wants a shot at winning. There are no other prizes other than a free meal and notoriety.”
Producer glanced over at Takane curiously. “Are you…?”
“Indeed. I would like to compete in the O-Gui Rumble.”
The two men blinked incomprehensibly at her serious expression, then scanned her thin figure, then stared back at her face incredulously.
“T-Takane—!”
“O-Of course, Miss!”
“Now hang on!” Producer stopped the waiter. “Isn’t it a little irresponsible of you to accept just anyone? They could seriously injure themselves doing the competition!”
“Well, everyone is allowed to participate. How they fare isn’t really up to us.”
Takane quietly picked up a piece of nigiri. “Producer, are you doubting my food fighting abilities?”
“Yes. Yes, I am,” Producer deadpanned. “This isn’t the same as the mountain of bean sprouts you demolished on TV. It’s going to be a sushi eating contest. Rice is very filling. And it won’t be a TV production with cuts and breaks in between— it’s a serious competition!”
“And I,” she swallowed, “am also serious in participating.”
The waiter cleared his throat, “Sir, if it helps, there has been a rise in women food fighters. They do exceptionally well and are in great shape. Perhaps this young lady may have a similar hidden talent?”
During his stunned silence, Takane pointed out, “Have I ever wasted a grain of rice, Producer?”
“Oh, alright,” Producer sighed, splitting his wooden chopsticks to finally start his meal. “Looks like I can’t stop you, so I’ll just cheer you on.”
~~~~~
On the day of the competition, the sushi restaurant was filled to bursting with people. They expected a large crowd to watch the O-Gui Rumble, but were completely unprepared to deal with the camera crew, paparazzi, and fans, all for a competitor who was also apparently an idol.
“Takaneeeee!” The fans roared and waved their signs when the dainty lady arrived and took her seat among the competitors. The food fighters didn’t blink their eyes at her stature, having met some equally slim opponents before, but they blinked from the bright camera lights that came with her idol status.
The host, who was one of three sushi chefs behind the counter, introduced the contest, “We’ll keep the plates coming, with every fifth plate being a different fish. Our staff will stack the dishes for you and will only accept them when there is not a grain of rice left. You must swallow everything that was on your plate for it to count as one point. You are permitted a total of 5 minutes to pause at any time, which your designated time keeper will record; any more than that, and you’re done. The last person with the most plates and is still eating wins!”
“Before we begin,” added the waiter into a microphone, “let’s have each contestant say a few words!”
Nakamura, a big, burly man, puffed out his chest. “I’ve done dozens of food challenges before. This will be an easy win.” He beamed at the others, “Get ready to pay my bill!”
A young British man named Winston sat next to him. He had a wide mouth and he smirked, “Oh yeah gramps? My plan is to scarf down as much sushi as I can before the 20 minute mark. That’s when your guts start realizing the damage you’ve done to it. And that’s when you’ll all be slowing down!”
Kiramoto, another contestant with a big stomach and apparently a local food fighter, guffawed, “Stamina is what will get me through, not speed! I’ll see you out while I’m still sitting right here, eating your plate.”
“And you, Shijou-san?”
The room hushed as they waited for the unexpected contestant to answer. Takane smiled. “Japanese cuisine is delicious. Why wouldn’t I want to eat all I want?”
“Alright!! We heard some fighting words!” The waiter pumped his first into the air. “Are you ready?! 3, 2, 1, begin!!”
Cheers erupted as the contestants dug in. Each fighter had a different tactic: the burly man sipped water after every two plates; the Brit confidently shoveled two into his large mouth at a time; the big-stomached man maintained a steady rhythm of sushi, chew, chew, swallow, sushi. Takane simply ate at her usual speed. Producer, who was her time keeper, watched her nervously.
“Ten plates for Winston-san! And it’s only been five minutes!” The waiter hollered into the mic. “He’s going really fast!”
“Da’s cuz I gah hifheen minnus yef!” the Brit said around a mouthful.
“Oooh, not far behind him is Nakamura-san! He just reached ten plates!” The burly man waved it off.
Two minutes later, Kiramoto also earned ten points. At exactly 10 minutes, Takane reached the first milestone. By the time she swallowed the 13th, Producer started sweating, and it wasn’t from the heat of the cameras.
You can stop anytime, you know, he refrained from saying aloud, not wanting to discourage her, I can barely finish 14 myself. Oh gosh, she’s eating her 16th!
18. 20. 25! 30!? Producer was dizzy counting and recounting the plates. Takane still hadn’t taken a break!
Neither did the Brit, but he was done the moment he paused. “Gah!” He slammed his fists onto the table, rattling his tower of 32. “Can’t eat anymore, I’m stuffed!” Winston swallowed his last mouthful with difficulty, and yelped when the waiter patted him in comfort. “Oi, don’t touch me, I’ll burst!” He looked over at the others in awe and sighed in defeat. “Man, I got a lot to learn from these guys!”
“Takane is still going!!” her fans whispered excitedly. “Go, go, Takane!”
A few minutes later, Nakamura tapped out with a shake of his head. “I’ve been doing this a while now, but sushi never gets easier. I ate the same amount as last time, 37.” He chuckled when Kiramoto took a plate from him.
The crowd got rowdier. “She’s still in, she’s still in!”
How is she still in!?!? Producer gawked. And she hasn’t paused for even a minute! Takane continued munching, her rhythm steady… and going even faster?!
“Hn?” huffed Kiramoto as he took a breather. “H…How are you still eating?” Takane didn’t respond, solely focused on the plates in front of her, and he nodded out of respect for that strategy. “No distractions, I see.” His time keeper motioned for him that he only has a few seconds left for his break, and he hesitantly resumed. The older locals clapped to cheer him on, which pushed him to polish off five more plates before he had to take another break. His few remaining seconds ran out and the competition was over.
The crowd went wild! Fans held each other as they roared in amazement, wept, and took pictures of the still-eating idol. Producer breathed a sigh of relief, only to gasp when Takane continued taking plates from the staff’s hand.
“T-Takane! You can stop!” he yelped, “You won! It’s over! Stop! ”
She took her first break to speak, “I have yet to eat all I can, Producer.”
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should!” He cast an apologetic look to the tirelessly working chefs, who were determined to outdo the newbie food fighter. “H-Hey, please don’t encourage her!”
“The meal is delicious so far. I want to try all of the chefs’ specialties, and I’ve only eaten half.” A grin spread on her lips. “Don’t worry, Producer, these lovely gentlemen are paying.” The other contestants shook their heads in disbelief as the waiter ran over with the bill.
“Man, I picked a bad day to compete,” Winston groaned. “Dead last, outdone by a girl, and paying her tab. Guess I’ll have to skip the next few meals to stay on budget.”