Riley Ross
Chapter 45: Misunderstanding On All Ends

Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Misunderstanding On All Ends

"What is the meaning of love to you, Mr. Riley?"

It was a weird question, definitely not something anyone would have expected coming from a cooking class that hyper-focused on making the students into future chefs. The curriculum of the normal classes of the Mega Academy, after all, ensures that their students will come out at least somewhat ready for the world.

After all, almost 99% of them wouldn’t really become a superhero.

Most students came here not to save the world, but to learn how to control their powers and, more importantly, to live normal lives without the burden of heroism. They were teenagers, after all. And only a rare few actually dreamed of wearing capes.

They came here to learn to cook. And now their instructor was asking about love.

Worse, he was asking perhaps the last person you’d expect to have an answer for it.

Chef Jordan slowly walked toward Riley’s workstation, causing Pauline to edge away slightly, casting an expectant glance at her partner. She, like the rest of the class, was curious. Curious... and uneasy.

Riley, on the other hand, merely tilted his head. He looked more confused about the question than actually thinking of an answer, as if trying to reconcile why they weren’t plating dishes like Chef Jordan said they would.

But then, after a few seconds, he glanced at Chef Jordan’s shoulder and finally answered,

"I believe love is a spectrum, Chef Jordan," he said calmly. "It is all emotions and feelings, combined into one."

"Hmm?" Chef Jordan narrowed his eyes, "Go on."

Riley blinked again, tilting his head as if searching somewhere deep inside his mind, like he wasn’t just trying to find the right words, but trying to understand the very concept himself.

"Hate is love in its most passionate form. Grief is love eternal. Pride is love of oneself. Sadness is love fading. Anger is love in violence. I think Love is chaos, controlled."

Silence fell over the room after that.

Pauline, standing beside Riley, found herself holding her breath. Chef Jordan, who’d posed the question himself, was now visibly caught off guard. And yet, perhaps the most bewildered person in the room remained Riley himself, as if he didn’t fully grasp the weight of his own words.

"So I believe..." Riley whispered, tilting his head the other way, "...the opposite of love is nothing."

"You mean... indifference?" Chef Jordan asked carefully.

"No. Just nothing."

"You’re saying the opposite of love doesn’t exist?"

"No. I am saying the opposite of love is nothing, Chef Jordan," Riley repeated, "Not indifference. Not even a void—those still suggest something was once there or needs to be. But nothing... nothing means no warmth, no hate, no memory, no grief. No past, no present, no future. The absence of all emotion, all thought. Not even silence. Just... nothing."

Chef Jordan took a step back without realizing it. He had only wanted a glimpse into Riley’s mind—a taste of whatever stirred behind his blank face. He hadn’t expected... this.

No one had.

"That..." Chef Jordan finally said, swallowing the lump in his throat, "That’s... very beautiful, Mr. Riley."

He turned to face the rest of the class, still visibly shaken. But they, too, were silent—struck not by the poetry of it, but by the eerie certainty in Riley’s voice.

"Wow. Wow. I... forgot what we were doing today. What was it again?" Chef Jordan muttered, blinking as he looked around. He wasn’t really asking a question, but still, Riley answered him again.

"We were supposed to learn plating today, Chef Jordan."

"Right, right—plating!" Chef Jordan clapped his hands and returned to his station, the familiar hop in his steps slowly returning to him. "That’s why I asked that question in the first place. Plating involves a lot of love. Uh... Of course. If you all look at your stations, I’ve prepared some—"

The class finally proceeded normally after that, with Chef Jordan guiding them through several core principles: why plating matters, aesthetics versus functionality, the balance of visual appeal and practicality, where to position ingredients, and finally, a live demonstration that quieted the room completely. The students watched with focus, captivated by the precision of his hands.

By the end of the lecture, of course, Chef Jordan gave the students a challenge: to cook a very simple meal and plate it, using everything they’d just learned.

And surprisingly...

"W-wow... Riley, you’re really good at this. How did you even do that?" Pauline’s eyes widened as she studied Riley’s plate—if she wasn’t mistaken, it looked even more refined than Chef Jordan’s.

"Thank you, Ms. Pauline. I have had some practice lately," Riley said, glancing briefly at her shoulder before looking back down at her plate. "I wish I could say the same about yours. But it is understandable. Perhaps the effects of the alcohol yesterday are still impairing your judgment."

"...Thanks," Pauline muttered.

"You are welcome, Ms. Pauline."

Despite her sighing at Riley’s statement, she wasn’t exaggerating, though. Riley’s plate stood out from the rest. The assignment was simple: plate two pieces of grilled, filleted fish using the available sauces and garnishes.

But Riley had done something different. Something... elegant.

Unbeknownst to everyone admiring his work, the arrangement was actually a twisted tribute. A recreation... to the murder scene he’d created the night before. The Illicit Lovers.

The way the two fillets overlapped, almost intertwined represented Steph and Mark. The trails of sauce flowing between them were the limbs, and the garnishes encircling the scene were the walls of the ruined hospital.

"This is excellent, Mr. Riley!"

While Riley stared at his plate, lost in the screams and tears of the previous night, Chef Jordan abruptly snatched it away, pulling him from his thoughts. Riley blinked as the plate was raised into the air and placed at the center station for everyone to see.

"Look at this, everyone."

Yes. Look at it, everyone. My... work.

As the students gathered to admire the display, Riley didn’t look at the plate. He looked at them—their faces. Some were in awe, genuinely impressed. Others wore uncertain expressions, pretending to appreciate what they didn’t understand.

But to Riley, it all felt like... validation.

Everyone approves of my work. Look at this, Stephanie. At least now, you’ve done something that mattered. People are admiring you.

"And of course," Chef Jordan said, reaching for a fork, "Still the most important part..."

He shredded the fish gently, the sound of tearing flesh sending a ripple through Riley’s spine—flashes of Mark’s body playing vividly in his mind. Riley’s head tilted as a slow smile crept onto his face, watching as Chef Jordan brought a bite to his mouth.

And then, the chef coughed. He coughed again, eyes watering as he reached for a glass of water and downed it in a single gulp.

"Okay...Oh—wow." Chef Jordan massaged his throat. "That is...woo. Wow. Very salty. We’ll work on the taste in our later classes."

Hmm. An acquired taste, I suppose.

"That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Riley," Chef Jordan said with a weak smile. "The most important part is to practice. Practice, practice, practice."

"Yes, Chef Jordan," Riley nodded. "I will practice more."

Do not worry, Chef Jordan. One of my classmates happened to give me a wonderful opportunity to practice on her parents. I will not fail you next time.

***

"Ah! Riley! What took you guys so long?!"

An hour later, Riley and Pauline arrived at their super class, where Hannah and the others were already gathered. In fact, half the class had arrived—many of them huddled together, clearly plotting something.

Gary, in particular, was watching Riley and Pauline approach, a sly smirk crawling onto his face.

"Indeed," he said, voice curling with innuendo. "Whatever took the two of you so long?"

He raised his pinkie and wiggled it obscenely.

Hannah, of course, didn’t miss it. Her fist landed in Gary’s stomach without hesitation.

"Agh! Why?!" Gary groaned, collapsing to the floor dramatically.

"My brother’s twelve, you disgusting freak," Hannah snapped, flipping him off. Then she jabbed her middle finger toward the front of the room. "Anyway. Look at that."

Written in bold marker across the whiteboard was a notice,

"Choose your superhero name. I will give you until the first half of class to do it.

Best regards, Spectacular Mustache Man."

"O-oh..." Pauline squinted at the message. "I haven’t even thought of anything yet. And... two hours? They’re giving us... two hours just to choose a name?"

"Our names will carry our legacy, madam," Gary declared, covering half of his face for dramatic flair. "It is, perhaps, the most important decision of our lives."

"Yeah, I ain’t out here savin’ folks or nothin’," Bella rolled her eyes. "V, what ’bout you? You got somethin’?"

She tapped Victoria on the shoulder, and it took several taps before Victoria finally turned around.

"You good, fam?" Bella asked. "Or you already pick a name?"

"Oh. V is already my superhero name," Victoria replied with a blink. She then subtly gestured toward the corner of the classroom. "It’s just... that girl’s been staring at us for a while."

"Hm?" The entire group followed her gaze—only to see Tomoe silently observing them from across the room.

"S-shit..." Gary gulped. "You think she’s still mad at me for yesterday? I swear, I didn’t even do anything!"

"You invaded her space. That’s enough," Hannah muttered, shaking her head. "But seriously, why is she still—wait. I think she’s coming over. Everyone—act normal!"

Suffice it to say, no one acted normal. The group suddenly became experts in staring at walls, ceilings, and floors—anywhere but at Tomoe.

Fortunately for them, Tomoe wasn’t looking at the group at all.

She was only looking straight at Riley.

"Riley Ross," she said calmly. "I forgot to ask for your number."

"Number...?" Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she looked between her brother and Tomoe.

"W—wait a minute. Don’t tell me..." she muttered. "My twelve-year-old brother’s going to get into a relationship before me?"

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