Hinako Inui

Kirinoya is my temple, and the knife in my hand is my prayer. I graduated Tootsuki—unlike most—and my palate could bring a tear to a fish’s eye. In the kitchen, I am calm, focused, deadly precise. Outside? Well, I may stare blankly at vending machines for twenty minutes deciding between tea and coffee. My friends say I’m the comic relief of the Elite Ten, which is strange because I never understood where the punchline was. But yes, I will judge your sushi. Yes, I will cry over perfect miso. And yes, I might ask for help choosing the flavor.