Sorina/Soueri Archive

The time has come to enter the event! This is the second year for this event to happen!! Please go ahead and submit your applications if you wish! Also please reblog this around because the more, the merrier!! Please read the rules before submitting, which can be found here. 

If you want to join this event, please follow these instructions!

1.) You have to fill in this little little thing first! This is your application to join!

Name: How would you want to be called? [example: Kana]

Blog Name: If you change your blog name, inform me as soon as possible!  [example: @shokugeki-secretsanta​]

Description: Tell your “Secret Santa” something about you! [example: I like drawing and I’m usually shy around other people]

What you want: Which characters? Which ships? [example: Kuga Terunori]

What you are willing to create for: Do you want to do something related to EiRin? Something related to Isami? Or are you willing to create anything? [example: SoRina, RyoAli, SouMegu, TakuMegu]

What you won’t create: Any character you think you won’t want to do? A NOTP? [example: Asahi]

2.) Once filled in, submit it! Here is the link!

3.) Wait for me to give you a message on who you will create for and some of their information!

4.) Don’t tell the person you’re creating for them! If you want to, send them an anonymous ask or contact me to ask them for you! Remember, you’re a Secret Santa!

5.) Have fun creating and please submit your finished work! Short messages are optional!

6.) Take note of the dates! (All will be at GMT +8)

7.) If you know that you might send the gift late, inform me ahead! I will consider an extension, but only up to December 31!

IMPORTANT DATES:

Acceptance of Applications: October 26-November 24

The Date of Assigning Secret Santas: November 25

Date of Submissions: November 25-December 25

Have fun and Advanced Merry Christmas!

Feel free to send in asks or questions!

Soma had just finished his class and has now too much time in his hands. “Hmm, what to do? I’m all free now,” Soma thought to himself. Of course, he’d finish early in a class where serving time’s the battle. All those years he spent in the diner serving a ton of customers really came in handy. Still, he’s stuck on making something out of his free time. With all the aimless wandering, Soma came close to the part of the school he never thought he’d step in. “Ah, the library. It’s my first time coming here…is that?” Upon seeing the all so familiar figure of a certain someone, Soma unknowingly breaks into a smile.

“Yo Nakiri!”, that came out way louder and cheerful than necessary if Soma could hear himself.

The Totsuki heiress, the ever presentable Nakiri Erina held a book in her hands and was really focused on her reading before she heard her name in a voice she knew too well. 

“Yukihira-kun,” she responded to Soma which is somewhat unusual considering her default ‘response’ would be to ignore him. 

“What ya doin’?”, Soma went all playful with that one.

“Not that it matters to you and how many times do I have to tell you to not talk to me so casually?”, Erina’s words were clearer and sharper within the empty library.

“Aw don’t be like that. I’ll be taking this seat,” not that Soma was hurt in any way with Erina’s annoyed tone and because he’s Soma, he’ll continue to be annoying. He sat in front of Erina and this caused a slight twitch in the girl’s brows.  

“Of course you will,” Erina let out a defeated sigh knowing full well not to spend unnecessary energy on the red head’s antics.

“Hey – “

“I’m not interested.”

“Already? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“I don’t need to hear to know. It’s probably one of your ridiculous ideas again.”

“Wow you know me well.”

“Hmph”

“Is that – “

“Not interested.”

This exchange of words continued for some time until Erina couldn’t proceed to the next page of the book she’s reading. She put down her book and took in all the air that she’ll need.

“Seriously Yukihira-kun, what to do you want? If you want someone to talk to, why don’t you just go home?”, Erina let out an even more noticeable air of irritation.

Soma slightly widened his eyes before the girl’s remarks, but he knew this Nakiri all too well. “Eh but I want to talk to Nakiri that’s why I’m here,” the teasing was obvious but there was a hint of seriousness in Soma’s voice as well.  

Erina suppressed the budding heat in her cheeks and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Driving you away eats at my energy so can you at least keep quiet?”, she asked but more demanding than anything.

“Will do,” Soma obliged which was also odd for Erina. But, if this will let her read in peace, she’ll gladly accept.

Soma did keep quiet, but another thing made Erina’s nerves more disturbed than ever.

“Look,” Erina started.

“Hm?”

“It’s nice that you kept quiet and all but you staring at me is uncomfortable!” Erina had no choice but to raise her voice in the library, something she would never do as a model student. Luckily, the library was vacant at the moment but still, it did not ease the situation she was in. If she learned anything with the time that has passed since Soma’s entrance to her world is that being alone with the guy makes her emotions go haywire.

“Was I?”, Soma sounded amused. Even he didn’t realize he was staring that much.

“Yes you were! Like you were trying to suck my soul!”, Erina pressed. She’s not holding back in trying to make him understand the chaos brewing in her emotions.

“Really? Then, Nakiri was also looking at me?” Soma pried, really wanting an answer for his question.

“Wha – I wasn’t!” Erina didn’t know how to respond to that and the temperature rising to her cheeks is not a good sign. “Ugh. Even if I don’t, I can feel your creepy stares!” There’s now way she’s going to let Yukihira have his way.

“But there’s nothing else for me to do.”  

“Then go away!”

“My next class is in an hour and it’s a pain to go back and forth to the dorm.” Soma was spouting excuses for sure, but he decided he wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, so you decide that pissing me off is the best way to pass time?” Erina was really reaching her limit.

“Kinda, but not the pissing part. If I’m really disturbing you, then why don’t you just put that down and talk to me?” Soma pointed at her book then looked back to the fuming girl. It wasn’t his intention to get her all riled up and he’s got to do something before he completely ruins her day.

“Why do I have to be the one to adjust to you? This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” Erina got up from her seat and the events that followed were all but new.

“Wait, Nakiri.” Soma immediately got a hold of Erina’s hand. This of course was too much of a surprise for Erina but before she could even react, Soma said another thing that made her even more bewildered.  

“I’m sorry. I’ll behave so stay, okay?”

Did Soma just apologize to her? And that was definitely an apologetic tone if her ears were not deceiving her. She didn’t even expect for him to know the word behave. But when she second doubted her ears, her eyes couldn’t deny that the golden orbs she’s looking at are very much sincere. Soma’s plea was too much for Erina to handle and as much as she wants to stay away, this Soma in front of her is something she had never encountered before. Wait, it’s a Soma she would never dream about encountering. His gaze and his tone were different. It was not the look he used when he was teasing, when focusing on his cooking, when he’s fired up from a challenge or just simply being stupid. She bit her trembling lips after what seemed like a lifetime of a pause and with a sigh, she went back to her seat effectively releasing her hand from Soma’s grip which didn’t seem to loosen, if she felt that right.

“Fine. I’ll humor you just this once.” Erina felt exhausted but the heat coming from her cheeks is making her feel light.

“Great!” Soma beamed. He’s not Soma if he lost his wide grin but he noticed a slight tingle in his chest upon looking back at his hand that held Erina’s. “She’s a lot skinnier than I thought,” he kept that to himself.

The sky was welcoming the sun as a burst of yellow greeted the greens on the ground still feeling chilly from the cold of the night before. It was the early morning at the Polar Star Dorm and a certain redhead had just finished tying his shoelaces in a clean knot. With his blue hoodie and track pants, he jogged in his place and took the first steps out.

Soma-kun is early today as well~~~. A bluenette watched from her dorm room as she dozed off back to sleep turning her last few words to a blur.

———————————————————————————————————–

Roses are red, violets are blue and to no avail, a beautiful princess wakes up to greet the morning dew. The Nakiri heiress, God’s tongue, Nakiri Erina had just woken up from her sweet slumber – well scratch that because the prestigious lady hardly did not get enough sleep with all the paperworks for being a bearer of the Nakiri name and the 10th seat in the Elite Ten not to mention the visits from her way too energetic white haired cousin. If she could trade even one day of her life for a decent sleep, she would but sadly, she cannot and so Erina might as well calm herself with the beauty from the Nakiri gardens. With a slight bedhead and her white elegant night gown fluttering in the cold morning wind, she began her walk.

———————————————————————————————————–

Uh oh

Soma must have enjoyed too much of his jog and has now wandered into some unknown territory. Well, in his defense, Tootsuki is way too vast of a land and it might take years before one could see the whole picture. Heck, he still has a hard time finding his way back to the dorms from the academy and vice versa. Now back to the problem. Soma was near golden fences and the smell of aromatic flowers lured him closer to what seemed like a garden. Who knew there was a place like this in the academy? Or better yet, a garden this grand is something like Tootsuki is ought to have. As he went closer to the subject of his curiosity, a familiar figure made him take a step back. Amethyst eyes, golden locks, skin as fair as porcelain and that ever present queen aura- there was only person who possesses all these and it’s none other than Nakiri Erina.

———————————————————————————————————–

Of all places he could have wandered off to, Soma was apparently lost within the Nakiri mansion. Well technically, he was not inside but he couldn’t help but admire the enormous structure. With his mouth still open in awe, he went behind a tree in order to conceal his presence from Erina. Wouldn’t want her getting surprised, Soma grinned at the thought of the God’s tongue’s usual outburst. Although, he couldn’t help but take a peek into what seems like a casual morning stroll of the first year majesty. Soma thought for a while if he should just show himself and ask Erina for directions back to the dorm but a part of him did not want to ruin the picturesque scene in front of him. Even the full bloom flowers might be jealous of the serene beauty of the Tootsuki princess. If only she’s always like this, calm and quiet, Soma thought without realizing that he’s the reason why the girl always appears prickly and upset.  It was a rare chance to see her not bursting in red and throwing insults at him. Not that he minds their usual banter which he treats as friendly talking.

———————————————————————————————————–

Soma was awakened from his trance when he felt his phone vibrate. It was the usual Tadokoro’s mail telling him that breakfast is ready and he better get back quickly unless he wanted to get scolded at by Fumio-san. He then let out a relieved and sort of bummed out sigh. Relieved, because he thought he was already in trouble when he was starting to step closer yet disappointed because, just maybe, he wanted to stay for a little more. He was finally convinced when of the maids called out to Erina telling her that everything’s ready. Erina’s busy day was about to start and when she saw her maid waiting at the door; she regained her usual piercing look and proceeded inside as if the Erina earlier was just an illusion. And as for Soma, Well, I guess that’s my cue, he began his way back with an entirely different vibe from when he first stepped out of his room.

———————————————————————————————————–

Summary: Erina swallows her pride. 

“Erina awoke to the midday sun’s rays filtering in through the sheer curtains. As she drifted back into consciousness, her senses returned to her slowly—the scent of fresh linens and lavender pillow mist, the sound of easy breathing beside her. Then her face warmed as she became aware of Yukihira-kun’s hand on the small of her back and his toned chest beneath her cheek. 

The night before she had taken great pains to position herself on the far edge of the bed, so that another person could sleep between them if they saw fit, so how the hell had they managed to get tangled up like this?

As Erina attempted to shimmy out of the embrace, all the while trying not to spontaneously combust from the close contact, Yukihira’s eyes blinked open. 

He regarded her with tired eyes and a lazy smile. “Mornin’ Nakiri.” 

Erina cursed herself, scarcely unable to come up with a thought unrelated to how adorable he was. 

“Morning?” she scoffed, willing the besotted flush to leave her cheeks. “It has to be at least two in the afternoon.” 

“Fuck, I’ve gotta get to work!” Suddenly, he looked ready to sprint downstairs and start his shift. 

“Relax,” Erina said, stretching languidly before sitting up in bed. She ran her fingers through her short tresses, trying in vain to neaten them. “I called you out. You’re fine.” 

“Thanks for that,” he said. “Head chef threw a live lobster at the last person who showed up late for a shift.”

Erina chuckled a little. “Sounds like my kind of guy.”

“You’d like him. But he’s not as creative as you are with his insults.” 

“As if anyone could be,” she said, finally scooting off the bed. “I’m going to go shower, and then start packing.”

“You’re heading back to Japan soon?”

“Tomorrow,” she said. “And I um…” Erina glanced down, nibbling her lower lip. Even with what she’d learned last night, this was all still so difficult for her. “I was wondering if you would come home with us.”

Yukihira met her eyes with a stunned expression. “Really?”

“I mean,” she said, tucking strands of hair behind her ear, “you have to agree it would be best for the academy to have the full Elite Ten on campus.”

He smirked at her. “Remember when you thought having me thrown out of school would be best for the academy?”

Erina rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I haven’t ruled that possibility out!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But…I think we’ve both grown a lot since then. Just think about it.” 

“I will, and…” he paused. “Do you want to go for a walk later tonight?”

She raised her eyebrows fractionally, half-ready to ask what he was up to, but the voice of reason took hold and replied, “Sure. Why not?”

Warning: Trust me, this could be the (NSFW) ending you prefer. ;)

A Silent Conversation

It startled her when Soma pulled her arm to the side between the crowd of their friends just to say, “You’re staying for sake later, right?”

But what surprised her even more was her mouth slightly gaping and stuttered, “Oh, um, sure.”

So it happened just as it was planned– when all their friends are leaving, she waved them goodbye. Alice apparently decided to get out the door last just to grab her arm and whisper something that wasn’t on Erina’s mind.

“Good luck, Erina. And by luck, I mean you’re so gonna get a good load of it.”

This girl just knew how to embarrass her. “Goodbye, Alice!”

Nothing interesting occurred from the point she shut the door behind Alice. Not even when he swept the floor as she helped him wash the dishes. 

Erina kept thinking that Alice didn’t know what she was talking about. That her assumption was nothing but a mere tease in an orderly Alice fashion. Good luck, schmood luck– the girl had even managed to dodge his questions regarding the dish he served her. Thanks to her friends who fought to get a spoonful of his–

“Yo, Nakiri,” Soma’s touch on her shoulder jerked her out, “Ready for that sake?”

“R-Right, I’ll just have to wash this pan.”

“Nah, it’s alright. Leave it and sit here.” He said, opening up a bar chair for her.

She glanced at where he rest himself, just him casually filling her glass with sake. Just before she turned back, Soma looked up and chuckled.

“Cmon, what’re ya waiting for? This good sake ain’t gonna drink itself!”

With that, she set the pan aside. “Very well.”

The clinking of their glasses followed by the word kanpai had turned into a few more pours, episodes of travel stories, a series of laughs, and were spiced with some unapologetic grazes on arms and thighs. 

Both of them had realized how rare these kinds of moments are. Where they were alone in a room and only their voices echoed. Where Erina would start to notice new things each time he came back from his months of travel.

The corners of his eyes that crinkled when he laughed too loudly, or the recent knife cuts on his callous fingers, or that strong arm that reached through her to tuck a piece of her blonde locks behind her ear.

And how it never failed to heat her cheeks.

“Wow, your hair is really, really short now.” He pointed out.

“Long hair is tedious to take care of.” Erina brushed the back of her hair, “Do you not like it?”

“You kidding? I love it. Makes you ten times hotter.”

Now, this is an example where you need to stay cool, Erina. “Flattery and flirty remarks won’t change how I think of your dish, Yukihira-kun.”

He laughed at her remark, “We’ll get back to that, but I’m serious. You’re beautiful in long hair, and hot in short.”

“Well, if you start using proper hair products, I’m sure you would… not look half bad.” She hesitated.

“I’d take it as a compliment. Cheers.”

Once again, they took another shot.

“So how long will you stay this time?” Erina asked.

“Uhm… a while, I think. Haven’t booked a ticket anywhere in the near future, so I’ll just be here in Yukihira. Updating the menu and serving ‘em to our regulars.”

She couldn’t help the release of her long breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, but it was no secret that she acknowledged the relieve.

“I see.” She took a sip from her glass.

“Aren’t ya gonna ask why?”

“Yukihira, you just said you wanted to update the diner’s menu.”

“Technically, that’s what I’d be doing in the time being.” Soma corrected, “Go ahead, ask me why I’m staying.”

“Ugh, fine.” Erina rolled her eyes, “Why do you plan on staying so long?”

“‘Cause I miss cooking for you.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Y-You do?” Then as if something jolted her, she shook her head, “I-I mean, hmpf. It’s always cooking with you. Isn’t there anything else you want to say to me?”

He slowly cocked his head forward. “Like… how I know you’re looking forward to eat my cooking too?”

My God, he hadn’t changed. “No! It’s– ugh, nevermind.”

He laughed once again. Damn, those crinkles making him look cute.

“Cmon, Nakiri. Y'know how I feel about you.” Soma ruffled her hair. “You already forgot that hell of a kiss before I left the last time?”

Of course she hadn’t. It had intoxicated her brain and left her sleepless for a week.

She remembered said moment as if it was photographed. 

He’d placed his palms on her cheeks and pressed his lips gently against her. When he’d deepen his movement, it was silence. There were no passerby with luggage, no crooked voice announcing it was his flight’s last call, or the thought of him leaving her again for months.

Even just thinking about it, that tingling sensation on her lips and butterflies in her stomach came back.

Wait a second– she did know how he felt. Yes, he kissed her well, alright. 

Was it her that hadn’t said or did anything?

“No, Yukihira. I remembered well.” Erina finally said, “But do tell me if what’s coming is better.”

It might be the alcohol taking charge, or it could be her plain desire, but as she lifted herself from the chair and grab his cheek, her body wasn’t aware that her lips were already on his.

Yes, she was trembling. Yes, her heart was jumping out of her chest. But none of it mattered when the feeling from that autumn came rushing down like a waterfall. Lips were as soft as she remembered and she wouldn’t know what to do if he’d kissed her back at this moment.

So before he had the chance, she pulled away and opened her eyes slowly, revealing how he’d been mimicking her movements.

She gulped, wiping her lips as she rose completely and headed through the door, “Goodnight, Yukihira.”

In her mind, saying that goodnight meant she’d rather go home and overthinking what just happened, or even worse, what could have happened if she’d stayed.

But a good grip on her arm stopped her from taking another step.

“Y’know it’s rude to kiss a guy like that and walk away, right?”

Soma’s voice was an invitation and her soul would want to be an attendee. All it took was another step from him and a good pull of her waist back into his arms, drowning into that deeply familiar kiss that swept her feet away.

The feeling was welcomed with her lips’ slow dance, reciprocating the gentle brushes he kept on gifting, and she didn’t mind his fingers that crept up through her back to finally end up tangling her short blonde locks. 

To her, it wasn’t just about the growing heat, or that tongue of his that had started invading her mouth making her gasp for air, it was also their buried feelings– the newfound emotions she only recognized ten years after a pair of golden eyes started haunting her dreams.

So when Soma got hold of both her legs around him, she let him lift her off the ground and hooked her arms behind his neck.

The dance continued as soon as Erina was rested on one of the dining tables, but it was cut short and the sensation had moved to the junction of her shoulder. A small whimper escaped her, but the urge to remove his white t-shirt was bigger.

As his top flew across the room, she didn’t have much chance to admire his physique. Even in the split second he undid her blouse, she knew he’d spared some time to work out.

His lips never left hers. His hands wouldn’t stop grazing her exposed thighs. And she found it hard to hold back her sweet noises when they left to roam around, touching and nibbling on her other sensitive flesh.

That was before he suddenly lifted a knee to hover over her. Ragged breath fanned over her like a tempting sin.

“Nakiri,” He whispered, “Should I stop?”

She shook her head quickly before pulling him in for another kiss. It quickly turned into a blur when she found him buckling his fingers to the hem of her skirt.

He looked up to her for confirmation, and when she responded with a nod, he slowly pulled every single fabric covering her most sensitive areas before landing his lips back on hers.

Erina’s head rested on the table’s hard wood and she was weak. Her knees had been trembling, and it trembled more when his fingertips gently tease her inner thighs. She didn’t react when she felt his lip dropped. All she squirmed to was the feeling of his digits, finding that spot that felt too eager for him.

Moans after moans went into his mouth. Mirroring the rhythm he set was her arched back that continuously bucked at his thumb. He’d kiss her at times to suppress her noises, but he’d be the only one to end up groaning. She knew he enjoyed sketching away his feelings this way– in a delicious, circular motion. And the harder his finger pushed, the louder her moans had gotten.

And when she was on the edge, he stopped and fished his wallet.

“Wh-Why did you stop?” She panted, obviously disappointed.

“Condom,” He told her, “No way I’d leave you like that.”

She smiled and rose up to help him free, watching with anticipation as he rolled the rubber on himself.

It didn’t take long for him to finally dipped inside her, colliding their warm skin that melted into one. He kissed her goosebumps, before kissing her lips once again. He tasted so sweet even when it was only their breaths that meld, and she couldn’t stop the crave her god tongue desired.

She never understood the words she wanted to say to him because what she felt was deeper than its surface. It had been eating her alive, and she’d die if he’d never known of it.

With that feeling, with every thrust he stroked, gentle or rough, she pulled him deep. Maybe the only way he’d acknowledge it was only by the desperate moans of her lungs whispering his name in his ear. He’d know these voices, the peak she had reached, only belonged to him.

This was that silence conversation: where only their bodies spoke, and their heart listened.

And as he hushed and cursed her name repeatedly, his throbbing strengthened, that was where she knew he felt the same.

//

“Yukihira,” Erina mumbled as he zipped up her top, “It was good.”

He chuckled, kissing her shoulder, “Are you talking about my cooking or the sex?“

“I’ll let you figure it out.” She said, “Thank you for today, Yukihira.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Soma responded.

He held her in his arms for what felt like a long time. Long enough for her to notice and not minding the seafood smell intact on his t-shirt. All she felt was that warm embrace she had missed.

“Sweet dreams, Yukihira-kun.” She pulled away and gave his cheek a peck.

“Wait, Nakiri. You’re leaving?”

“W-Well, it’s 2 am. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your rests.”

“Oh…” He said dejectedly.

Strange– she’d never heard that tone before, “Wh-Why? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you… wanna stay? I mean, you just had a drink and it ain’t good to drive after all that sake you just drank, y'know.” Soma persuaded. “And I got a great breakfast recipe I’d make ya in the morning! What a deal, eh?”

“Yukihira, I have my driver waiting for me. I’d just have to give him a call.”

“Aight. Then stay for me.”

She blushed.

“E-Eh?”

“Don’t go, Nakiri.” He pulled her into another embrace, “Stay for a little while, will ya?”

“For how long?”

He paused and caressed her hair.

“If I say forever, would you do it?”

Erina swore her heart was about to burst. It was the first time he spoke something somewhat heartfelt. No food. No recipes. Just him as a man, showing his vulnerable side.

She knew she needed to say no more– she knew he meant it.

“I… suppose I can arrange that.”

Summary: A little tenderness between Erina and Souma 

It was half past midnight when Yukihira Souma arrived at Erina’s hotel room with a venison steak and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon after she’d sent him a text that only vaguely hinted she wanted a late night snack. 

Usually her demanding tasting schedule and strict fitness regimen would absolutely prohibit such rich fare so late at night, but the red haired chef had broken every one of her rules thus far. What harm would there be in putting a dent in one more?

She was already halfway through the decadent dish, pulse quickening each time the majestically marinated meat grazed her sensitive palate, when she noticed he hadn’t asked about the flavor yet.  

Erina gazed at her second seat carefully, noting his slightly slumped posture and unusual pallor. She knew that as soon as he noticed her looking, he’d straighten up and try to entertain her. For the first time, she began to rethink the effects of summoning him to her side at all hours.

“You look tired, Yukihira-kun,” she said, attempting to sift all traces of care out of her tone. “You really thought you could make a dish good enough to please me when you’re in this condition?” 

“I’m alright,” he replied, and Erina could practically see him turning up the dial on his megawatt smile. “Just had to work double shifts these past few days.”

“You work too much,” she said before taking another sip of the cabernet—liquid courage. “And you don’t have to pretend for me. I can tell when your energy is fake.” 

“Are you really the one to talk about working too much?” he asked with a slight smirk. 

Erina rolled her eyes. This was textbook Yukihira. He always tried to change the subject the moment someone showed the least bit of worry for him. “Oh no. You and I are not in the same category,” she said. “I take care of myself.” 

“I do—”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “Case in point, when was the last time you’ve eaten something? And I don’t mean tasting a dish you’re about to serve or tampering with a recipe. I mean sitting down to eat an actual meal.” 

Yukihira glanced at her sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Probably before work this morning.”

Erina sighed. That was even worse than she’d anticipated. “You are such a fool,” she said, stomping over to the hotel room’s small kitchenette. 

“Nakiri, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she asked, pulling her hair into a short ponytail. “I’m making you dinner.” 

She’d bought the ingredients for the apology dish she invented before he left days ago, but never quite worked up the nerve to make it. Now, for a lack of much else in her mini-fridge, it seemed that the universe was forcing her hand. 

The checkerboard fried rice, as she had originally conceived it, was a dish that required the use of two woks that would be used simultaneously. In one, the rice would be tossed with squid ink, truffle oil, and sakura shrimp among a handful of other luxury ingredients. Meanwhile, the other would hold far humbler fare—white onion, roast pork, soy sauce, and green peas. Then, in a bold move, she’d combine the separate preparations for three last tosses before the cohesive dish was ready for plating. 

Although the process was made far less glamorous by the kitchenette’s simple frying pans, the effect on the palate remained the same—a dance between high-end and low-brow flavors, a sweet sojourn through the different realms of deliciousness. 

In short, it was the story of them laid bare on a mid-grade hotel porcelain plate.

She walked the finished product over to him carefully, chest heaving with the exertion of preserving its perfection in such a bare-bones cooking space and the nerves that came with allowing her true feelings to be made known. 

Yukihira looked from her face to the dish to her face again, as though transfixed. “Nakiri, this is…you came up with all of that just now?”

“It’s something that’s been on my mind for a while now,” she said, her cheeks pinking with the admission. “Now shut up and try it already, before it gets cold.”

Naturally, the diner chef did not need to be told twice. 

The moment he took the first bite, Erina swore she saw the color return to his cheeks and the familiar lightning strike of mischief to his golden eyes. As far as she could recall, it was the first time she ever tried to make him feel better and succeeded.

“Nakiri, you’re a genius,” he said when he’d gotten through the plate. It was always a testament to the quality of one’s cooking, how easily it got people to be quiet. 

“It was nothing special,” she said coyly before reaching for the remote and turning the television on. The WGO Network was a welcome distraction from the feelings churning within her. “Why don’t we finish the wine?”

Four glasses of cabernet and two hours of cooking reality shows later, Yukihira Souma had fallen into a deep sleep on Erina’s bed. For a moment she watched him, studying the rise and fall of his chest and his obnoxiously sprawled out posture. If what she learned about his sleeping habits during the Central saga still held true, this was probably the best rest he’d gotten in weeks.

It couldn’t be helped. With a half-rueful sigh, she banished the thought of waking him up and went to put his phone on the charger. She had just gotten through disabling his early AM alarms and emailing him out of work when a text message from his father flashed across the screen, too quick for her to look away in time. 

My advice is confess to her already. A girl like Erina won’t wait for long. 

She threw the phone down and blinked once, twice, waiting for the characters to change, to lean that she was somehow mistaken. After a minute, two, five, the information remained uncontested. 

Erina brushed her teeth, turned off the lights, and—after briefly considering both the floor and Hisako’s room—got into bed next to the boy who somehow had feelings for her, even after she’d given him every reason not to. 

Normally, news of this nature would have kept her up all night, but—mind addled by the wine and the warmth of her own feelings—Erina quickly fell asleep to the sound of his steady breathing. 

Summary: In which Hisako is a mastermind. 

Erina had never gotten into the habit of ordering room service. Truthfully, she didn’t think highly enough of other people’s cooking to run the risk of some errant server seeing her in her pajamas over it. But she’d had Yukihira bring breakfast up to her hotel room for the past three mornings. 

Despite her best attempts at nonchalance, she found herself waking up well before seven on those days, selecting outfits and applying the peach scented lip gloss she couldn’t be bothered to unearth from her toiletry bag most of the time. And when she heard him knocking on her door in that rhythmic, playful way he had, her pulse started racing. 

She took two calming breaths, sprayed a rose scented perfume on the insides of her wrists, and quickly fluffed her hair before opening the door. 

“Morning, Nakiri.” Yukihira Souma casually leaned against the door frame, his newest creation in one hand. He took his time looking her over in a way that would’ve made Erina shriek back when they were first years. “You look nice.” 

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what do you have this time?”

“Breakfast yakisoba,” he explained, setting the covered tray down at her desk. 

“How obscene,” Erina said, smirking despite herself. 

There was no way a dish that heavy should be able to translate to anything remotely appropriate to eat first thing in the morning, but she would be an absolute fool to doubt him at this point.

The moment she brought the first bite to her lips, the sound of a sweet aria began to overtake reality; she was drenched in sunlight, caressed by gentle breeze, taken into the arms of a lover in the warm pink sand. 

She released a breathy sigh as the flavors teased and delighted her sensitive palate, crossing her legs tightly at the ankles to hide the weak-kneed trembling. 

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself,” Yukihira said once she was done. “How did it taste?”

Erina glanced down at her lap for a brief reprieve from his honey eyes. For some reason, it was becoming ever more difficult for her to lie to his face. “Am I supposed to be your guinea pig?” 

Yukihira chuckled a bit. “You’re really never gonna give me a straight answer?”

“I don’t see why I should have to,” she said, standing up. “Aren’t you supposed to be the people’s cook, anyway? What would it do to your proletariat following if the common folk found out you were this desperate for my approval?”

“Approval?” he repeated, looking sincerely confused. “I’m trying to make you admit defeat.”

Erina scoffed. “You must still be concussed if you think that’s ever going to happen. All the kitchen jobs in the world won’t put you on my level.”

“You say that, Nakiri, but your legs are still shaking.” 

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What had she ever done to deserve this kind of body betrayal?

“It’s just a chill,” she said, “From the AC.”

“Wanna head down to the beach then?” he asked. “You could warm up.”

Erina shook her head. “I have too much paperwork to catch up on.” 

“Isn’t the Elite Ten here on holiday?”

“It’s a holiday not one of us can afford, especially since our second seat decided to spend half a year ‘finding himself’—”

“I’ve been training—”

“Whatever the hell it is that you do,” she said with narrowed eyes and a dismissive wave. “Some of us still have responsibilities.” 

Yukihira just watched her for a moment, and Erina felt the resolve draining out of her like grains of sand in an hourglass. 

“So…come back in like an hour, and you’ll be dressed?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “Bring a picnic basket for lunch or something.” 

When he left the room, Erina felt certain the last of her willpower had gone with him this time. 

The Elite Ten retreat had been Alice’s idea, so Erina probably should have anticipated that it wouldn’t be a serious trip. 

The rationale had been that a change of scenery would get the team’s creativity flowing so they might come up with some event or ritual to leave their mark on the academy. However, as soon as they boarded their charter jet to the all-inclusive beach resort, all pretensions of productivity became lost footprints in the sand.

“You were complaining a lot at first,” Alice said she, Erina, and Hisako sat in massage chairs, getting gel pedicures and facials with edible ingredients. “But you have to admit it—we needed this.”

Erina scowled, adjusting her complimentary robe. “What we needed was to finish the budget for the spring festival.”

“We’ll do it on the plane ride back,” Alice replied, waving her off. “For now just enjoy Santorini.” 

“She does have a point, Erina-sama,” added Hisako, whose face was still covered in a brown sugar mask. 

“See!” Alice said. “If even someone as neurotic as Hishoko says you need to relax, then you know it’s true.” Then she turned to Kurokiba, who was standing by her side with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. “Babe, can I get another grape leaf?” 

With her fingernails wrapped in preparation for her appointment with the manicurist, the white haired Nakiri’s hands had been rendered essentially useless. 

He brought one to her lips and she smiled appreciatively. “Just one question, Alice,” he said, ever monotone. 

“Yeah?”

“Why did you tell me to come here shirtless?”

She shrugged. “Because I love you.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Kurokiba said, though his eyes told a completely different story. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just feed me another mini spanakopita.” 

Despite all her efforts to look less sheltered and naive in front of her cousin, Erina could not keep her eyes from widening, her cheeks from flushing. How could she be so damn cavalier about saying something like that? 

She glanced over at Hisako, expecting that her best friend would be similarly stunned, but she just shook her head. If looks could speak, the pink haired girl’s said ‘just get a room already.’

Erina was still wondering just how her cousin had become so comfortable with the kinds of words that all but rendered her mute when a member of the hotel waitstaff arrived with an assortment of trays. 

“We actually didn’t order anything,” Hisako said. “You might have the wrong room. There are a number of us here with Totsuki Academy.” 

The waiter smiled apologetically. “Our chef in residence actually asked that I bring this up to you when he learned you were staying here,” he said. “Is one of you called Miss Erina?” 

Alice gave a mirthless laugh and pointed to her cousin, fingertips still clad in acetone and tin foil. “I had forgotten what it was like to travel with the god tongue. Everybody always wants you to write them a good review.” 

“It’s so presumptuous,” Erina huffed even as she lifted the metal lid off the dish. “Please do tell whoever sent you that there is usually an application process and ten-month waiting period to observe before I try the cooking of chefs with fewer than two Michelin attached to their names. However, I’m feeling gracious today.”

It was a dessert, an egg custard mousse topped with fresh honeycomb in a bowl of delicate rice flour pastry. 

Of all things…

She studied the dish carefully, weighing the simple presentation against the level of precision necessary it to make it work. She could feel her heart beating double time. 

Let the records show that Erina had her suspicions since the moment the hapless waiter walked in, but once she tasted it, there wasn’t a doubt left in her mind.

She had never known Yukihira to be a particularly gifted pastry chef, but his mastery over those ingredients — ones that had been the culinary nexus of their ever-changing relationship, or lack thereof, for years now — sent shock waves crashing through her. 

“These are actually really good,” Hisako said as she sampled the matcha roll cake that he had probably included just for her. “What do you think of yours, Erina-sama?”

Her gaze fell again upon the dessert, the honeycomb glazed and dripping in a way that seemed almost erotic. She couldn’t help but take another two bites before she responded. “It’s fine, I suppose.”

Already, she was planning the excuses she’d use to disappear later that night.

Hmm…I think Tamako would be a little skeptical of Erina at first. She is very close to Souma and it does bother her at first that he’s always overseas (or otherwise away from home) with his girlfriend

She would poke fun at Souma all the time for becoming involved with such a snooty rich girl. She’d say things like “Are you bringing her imperial majesty home with you this time?” 

However, after she sees how happy they are together — and she tastes the brilliance that is our girl’s cooking first hand — she begins to warm up to Erina

She always asks Erina to cook for her when she and Souma come around the Sumiredori Shopping District and gets really pumped about whatever she makes

Tamako would try to make Erina feel more comfortable at the diner and in the community, so she would bring her to the local beauty parlor so she could get to know the women in town. (Tamako actually doesn’t like to get her hair done that often, but she will endure the stylist’s chair for her daughter-in-law’s sake)

Thank you for the ask!

Souma really wanted to dangle him over the balcony at first, but Erina REFUSED!

They were actually kind of private about him for the first few weeks, even though the foodie paparazzi was forever stationed outside their duplex. Erina is not the type to d things like maternal photo shoots. She kept him in the house for the most part, and the only people who got pictures of him were her grandfather, Alice, and Hisako. 

As the Autumn Elections drew closer, Erina felt confident that she had effectively summoned Yukihira home. She had expected him to pop up any day now, smirking and joking and being his normal insufferable self. But when the main judges for the preliminary round arrived on campus, her plans were essentially thwarted. 

“These are your schedules for the day of the contest,” she explained, handing each of them the laminated agendas Hisako had prepared the night before.

“Thanks, Erina-san,” Eishi said with an appreciative smile. 

“Tsukasa, we have to go back to Paris after this,” she heard Kobayashi-san say as they got settled in their lounge. 

Eishi heaved a heavy sigh, gratefully taking the mineral water Tadokoro Megumi had left for him. “Rindou, we can’t fly back to Europe just so you can eat Yukihira’s grilled octopus again.”

“But it was so yummy,” the red haired woman protested.

Erina’s ears perked up when she heard his name. Then, inspecting her manicure and trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, she asked, “Yukihira-kun is in Paris?”

She’d had a feeling he would land there somehow, but calling her contacts to ask about it would have been too bold a move. 

“Mhmm. He’s been working at Shino’s and senpai won’t let him leave because he’s selfish.”

At this, the bespectacled chef chafed. “How is it selfish? Do you have any idea how many chefs would commit murder for a spot in my kitchen?”

“At least pay him more if you’re going to keep using his recipes.” 

Shinomiya waved her off. “The experience will pay for itself many times over.” 

Erina tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Oh. Did he say when he’s planning on coming back?”

“I tried to bring him for you, but he said no,” Rindou said with a sigh. “It looks like you’re on your own with this one.” 

Like clockwork, Erina’s cheeks began to flush. “I-it’s not as if I care when he comes back. Hayama-kun and I are just tired of picking up his slack with the Elite Ten work.”

“You underclassmen are really hopeless when it comes to this stuff.” Rindou shook her head slowly, wearing an amused grin. “Just call him and say come home already. It’s much easier than coming up with all these elaborate plans.” 

In retrospect, it was probably the soundest, most sober-minded advice the adventurous cook had ever offered, but in the moment it sounded as off-color as jumping out of a cake. 

The Autumn Elections came and went, and a winter frost encroached upon every exposed surface on campus. Alice and Kurokiba sat by the fireplace, comparing luxury condos they might move into after graduation. Hisako started coming home later and later, those curious red marks cropping up on her neck and collarbone every few weeks. The quiet frustration Erina had been sensing from Tadokoro-san gradually faded as she and Takumi spent more time together in the Elite Ten libraries. 

When she finally worked up the nerve to fly to Paris, Chef Shinomiya reported that Yukihira had left a week prior. 

“Where?” she asked with an exhausted sigh, taking the wine he poured her gratefully. 

“South America, I think,” the alumnus said. “He left a number for the kitchen he’s working in. I can tell him you came by—”

“No, don’t!” 

Shinomiya gave her a long look, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. “I’m getting tired of you kids and your lovers’ quarrel—”

Erina’s face morphed into a scandalized expression. “We’re not…I mean it isn’t—”

“Oh, but it is because you are here, in my restaurant, ten thousand kilometers away from home, looking for a boy you’re on the outs with. That is the textbook definition of a lovers’ quarrel. In fact, it’s a Hallmark movie.” 

Erina cringed, instantly regretting mimicking the approach of the heroine in her latest shoujo manga. “I’m sorry for troubling you with this,” she said, her eyes lowered. “I should be going, at any rate.”

The older chef’s features softened a bit. “Stay for dinner,” he said.

Erina’s grandfather had always told her that dishes worthy of the title of specialty made you see the face of the chef. And the moment the fluffy omurice souffle touched her lips, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was his recipe.

The whimsical combination of flavors, the shiro soy sauce and Gruyère cheese, sent a warmth coursing through her veins despite the winter weather. 

She kept replaying each component in her memory throughout the journey home and wondered what she’d say about it if she ever saw him again. 

Summary: In which Souma is in his feelings, and Eishi and Rindou inadvertently make things worse. 

Souma had been in Paris for over a month now, cooking in Shinomiya Kojirou’s flagship restaurant. It had been his plan to leave weeks ago, but each time he got his things together and mentioned heading to the train station, the owner-chef would invent reasons for him to stay—an ambassador’s luncheon to cater, a new seasonal menu to unveil. 

At first the line cook job had been as grueling as his stagiaire two years prior, but with each passing day he fell into a rhythm—work from 11 am to 10 pm, practice from 10:30 until four or five in the morning, almost oversleep but manage not to. 

He was always exhausted, but he barely slept. Most nights, after he got settled in his bed, his mind drifted back to BLUE, to Totsuki, to her. 

It’s disgusting. 

Part of me hopes you lose to Saiba Asahi. 

It’s a miracle that you even made it this far. 

The memory alone was always enough to propel him back into the kitchen for another hour, two, three, until he came up with something that might surpass his personal best.

Since Souma arrived at Shino’s, his mentor had featured a number of his dishes on the special menu. But even plates that could make it onto a three star menu were pedestrian to her. He had to work harder. 

“So you’re just not going back to school?” the prize-winning alumnus asked one day after closing. They were sitting on the steps to the back entrance, smoking cigarettes and sipping brandy. 

“I’ll go back when I’ve learned enough to achieve my goal,” Souma said, repeating verbatim the response he used every time Takumi or Hayama called to nag him about his studies or his Elite Ten paperwork respectively.  

“You’re still after the first seat?”

Although he willed them not to, his thoughts drifted to Nakiri again, to her new short hair and her old short temper. Part of him seriously doubted that there’d ever be a day when she accepted him or his cooking, but here he was halfway around the world, trying anyway. 

She was right to call him a fool. 

Well, at least she wasn’t all timid and tearful anymore; if nothing else, that girl was built to be high and mighty.

He sighed, shook his head. “Something like that.”

In another two weeks, Tsukasa Eishi and Kobayashi Rindou popped up to drag Shinomiya back to Tokyo to judge the Autumn Elections. 

“You come back too, Yukihira,” Rindou said, draping an arm around his shoulders. She had just glutted herself on all of Souma’s new dishes and was hellbent on making him her personal chef. “I’ll buy your ticket right now. Or you could have Eishi’s seat.”

“Hey, Rindou!” The former first seat protested, his face blanching. 

“Oi, Kobayashi,” Shinomiya said, his face hard. “If you take my whole staff with you, who’s going to be left to run this kitchen?” 

“Come on, senpai. You know you can’t keep my cute underclassman here forever. He has to graduate.” Then she turned to Souma, her eyes sharp and catlike. “Besides, don’t you want to see what the freshmen do with that theme?”

Something about the way she said it made Souma curious. “What did the council end up going with?”

Rindou’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You really don’t know?”

Souma shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have kept screening Takumi’s phone calls. 

“Well, Princess Erina went ahead and picked diner food.”

Souma blinked a few times, waiting for the wolfish gotcha grin to spread on the Totsuki alumna’s face, but it never came. “There’s no way Nakiri would do something like that. Maybe the others overruled her in a vote?”

“To my understanding,” Eishi cut in sheepishly, “it was all Erina-san’s doing, and she was very adamant about it.”

“But why would she—”

“Maybe she wants to get back together,” Rindou offered, offering a cheeky grin. “You left because she was too cold, right? Well, this ought to turn the heat back up.” 

“Rindou,” Eishi chided. “You can’t just ask personal questions like that.”

She rolled her eyes and waved him off. “Listen, as an alum, it’s my solemn responsibility to advise the chefs coming behind me,” she said. “Now are you going to take her back or what?”

Souma glanced up at the ceiling, scarcely able to fathom what he was hearing. Why the hell would she choose a theme like that? She did always like to poke fun at him, but she took Totsuki way to seriously to botch an old tradition like the Autumn Elections over a prank. 

Though in the past he’d thought of himself as a decent conversationalist, it took him several moments to come up with a response. 

“Look, now you two have gone and broken my apprentice.” Shinomiya said, shaking his head. “I knew it had to be something like this, though. I’ve always known you were stupid, but were you really dumb enough to break up with Nakiri Erina?”

“Nakiri was never my girlfriend,” Souma said finally. “I think she’d pluck off all her taste buds first.” He forced a laugh out after this, but the thought left him feeling hollow. “Anyway, you all should probably finish packing. I’ll close up here.”

Summary: What even is an apology? 

You idiot, 

Pleb,

“Perhaps it would be best not to start your apology with an insult,” Hisako offered as she poured Erina a cup of green tea. 

“You’re right.” The first seat massaged her temples. “Force of habit.” 

She tossed yet another piece of monogrammed stationery into the recycling bin. 

Yukihira-kun,

You are so stupid. 

No, that wasn’t quite right. 

You’re so goddamn dumb. 

That felt better. But she could tell from her best friend’s gentle sigh that it wasn’t quite the way to fix things. 

Why is it that you have to

I dreamt I stabbed you in the eye. 

“Erina-sama, be serious,” Hisako said, nibbling her bottom lip the way she always did when she was trying to keep from laughing. 

“Well, it was good enough for the Academy Awards,” she said, balling up the piece of paper and tossing it, only for it to bounce off the edge of the trash can and end up on the floor. “Are you absolutely sure I need to do this?”

Hisako nodded once. “You have to be honest. Just write down how you really feel, and then we can edit it later.” 

Erina took out a fresh piece of stationary — she’d have to order a new set soon — and clicked her pen a few times, nervously. This should not have been so difficult for a person whose reputation had been built on brutal honesty. 

She could be honest, couldn’t she?

Yukihira-kun, 

I suppose your cooking isn’t the worst swill I’ve ever tried.

I guess I don’t mind so much when you hang around me.

It’s not like I miss you or anything. 

Erina groaned. This was impossible! “I don’t suppose I could cook my apology instead?”

Hisako paused for a moment, thinking. Then, “You know, that might actually work. When in doubt, it’s always best to stick with what you know. Not that I’m saying you’re in doubt, but—” 

“No, you’re right,” Erina said, placing the stationary set back in her desk drawer just a bit too quickly. How glad she was to be done with that. “I’ll head out and buy some ingredients. Don’t wait up!” 

So she wasn’t Shakespeare. That was fine — disappointing, especially considering that Alice had won a food writing contest recently — but fine. She would mend things in a way that only she could. After all, if she had managed to win her mother over with her cooking, how hard would it be to do the same to a cocky diner chef?  

Summary: Erina does not take well to being ignored. 

An impartial observer would not be able to tell that Yukihira-kun was icing her out; in fact, most of their closest friends hadn’t noticed.

It was usually subtle — an invitation to the Polar Star extended while his eyes were set on Hisako or Alice instead of her; a question posed to the group during an Elite Ten meeting, when before he would have just texted her under the table — to the point that Erina sometimes wondered whether she was just over-analyzing. 

However, the situation became painstakingly clear one Thursday afternoon when they were sharing a car back to the academy. Instead of talking her ear off the way she’d grown accustomed to, or at least leaving the atmosphere open to conversation, Yukihira Souma pulled out a book. 

Oh. No. He. Did. Not. 

Scrolling through his phone would have been a convenient way to seem unavailable. Listening to music could have been interpreted as standoffish, but generally acceptable. But the fact that he made the decision to not speak to her so far in advance that decided to bring the copy of Kitchen Confidential that had probably been in the Elite Ten library since the time when Shinomiya Kojirou was first seat was more than Erina could bear. 

“Is this really what we’re doing right now?” she asked once the academy was within sight again. She hadn’t really meant to say it out loud, but sometimes when the same thought was on a constant loop in one’s brain, it happened to slip out. 

He stuck a bookmark between the pages and looked at her, perhaps for the first time in the past three months, and Erina felt a pang of longing deep within her. 

 “What do you mean?”

“You can’t deny that you’ve been ignoring me all day,” she said, arms crossed in front of her. “In fact, you’ve been avoiding me for months now. If this is how it’s going to be, at least tell me why!” 

There was a long pause between them. The driver pulled up in front of Totsuki’s Parliament, and Erina swore he was listening in. 

“Nakiri, which is it? Do you want me to leave you alone or not?” 

Erina felt the knife-tip sharp retort at the gate of her lips — the ‘When did I ever tell you to leave me alone?’ — but then she remembered that there had been too many times. And what made it worse was the fact that she’d never really meant it. 

“I…Well I…” She faltered, flipped her hair, grasped for any acceptable reply other than ‘I’ve been fronting since the day I met you.’ She settled on, “It doesn’t matter to me either way,” and then turned her face away from him again. 

“Then why are we having this conversation?” 

There were a thousand things Erina might have said in retrospect — most of which probably would have made the situation even worse — but in that moment all her wit and all her words failed her spectacularly. 

He looked at her for a long time, then shook his head, probably chastising himself for expecting anything different. “Look, I don’t have time for this anymore.” He opened the door on his side and stepped out of the car. “Get home safe. I’ll see you in class.”

Erina rode back to the mansion with her head in her hands. 

Why was she like this? 

Summary: Nakiri Erina had chosen her pride, and now she was paying for it.

At BLUE, Nakiri Erina had chosen her pride.

In the face of a dish that had been so profoundly delicious she swore the ground started quaking beneath her, she had once again looked Yukihira Souma in the face and said, “Disgusting.” 

And even as she pulled together a plate that would be superior to his eggs benedict don in her mother’s eyes, her body, soul, and every conscious thought was consumed with the desire to taste it again. 

She could hear it from her office, the sound of Hisako and Alice and Tadokoro-san moaning and squealing over the second seat’s newest creation. She released a quiet, wistful sigh before returning to the pile of work on her desk and the lunch she’d packed that morning. 

Before the competition and the beach and the arrival of that ignoramus Saiba Asahi, she would never have dreamed of bringing lunch from home. Every day during the noon hour, Yukihira-kun would knock on her door with an agenda to distract her and some new creation he was dying for her to try. 

And though she’d fuss and flip her hair, complaining about what a bother it was to keep enduring his pedestrian fare, she always looked forward to what he would make. The cooking ranged from good to near miraculous; he always spared her palate his crude experiments. And though she only realized it in retrospect, it was his company she enjoyed best of all. 

But after BLUE, he stopped coming. 

For the first week, the second, the third she assumed that he was still just pissy about losing to her. But when she finally confronted him about it after an Elite Ten meeting during which she’d gotten so goddamn hungry waiting for him that she actually contemplated ordering a pizza, she realized the gravity of what she had done. 

“I finally got the message,” he’d told her, wearing a grin that didn’t warm his honey eyes the way a genuine one would. “You’re not interested in my cooking the way it is now. I promise I’ll get way better before I bother you again.” 

The response had left her uncharacteristically speechless, so far was it from anything she had expected. And as she always did when he knocked her off balance, Erina took refuge in her haughtiness. 

“See that you do,” she’d replied with an indifferent hair flip even though it had been the very farthest thing from what she’d meant, from I want to eat your cooking again. 

Nakiri Erina had chosen her pride and now she was paying for it. 

Summary: A story Soma and Erina wouldn’t tell the world about– how they decided to call their first born (and what Erina almost named him).

During the most unproductive phase in Erina’s life, it was a rare moment having Soma home so early in the evening, and blame her hormones for always craving extra attention from her husband who brought her her monthly McDonald’s meal.

“You have weird cravings, y’know.”

Erina, who was dipping her leftover, soggy McDonald’s fries in her McFlurry, rolled her eyes at Soma’s remark, “Oh please, you would dip your disgusting dried squid in it and would call it a masterpiece.”

“You better trust me, it actually was.” Soma assured lazily.

“Just hearing about it makes me lose my appetite already.” She licked her salted finger before placing her fries concoction back in the nightstand, “Would you kiss me like this?”

Soma smiled before landing a peck on her lips. “Love it when you begged like that.”

“Wha– excuse me! I did not beg! That was a question!”

At this point, she realized what she was out of her usual hair-flipping, your-food-is-terrible character. If she could be real, she’d take it on the thing in her belly that had been residing comfortably there for the last six months.

“Don’t deny it, Eri-chan. You’re pregnant with my son for a reason.”

Okay, he caught her good on that one. “Hey, our son.”

“Yeah, our son.” Soma caressed the bump gently, and Erina pressed her hand against his. “Anyways, we don’t have a name for him yet.”

“Oh.” It only dawned on her that she forgot to even think about it. “Do you have any good idea?”

“A couple,” He settled beside her on his bedside, “What do you think of Haruto? Or Riku?”

Erina cringed. 

“No?”

“Those are not our son.” She stressed. “What about something non-Japanese like… Adolf?”

Soma’s jaw dropped and his head tilted, “Wow, Nakiri. Didn’t know you want this guy to grow up being a dictator and starting World War III.”

“Well, then you have to come up with something more creative!”

“Fine. Takahashi?”

“We are not a family of samurai, Soma.”

It was pretty obvious to Erina that he was running out of ideas. He kept massaging the bridge of his nose when he’s trying to rack his brain.

“Ooooh! I got a good one! Let’s name our son–”

“No, Yukihira. A definite, positive no,” She already knew what he was about to say, “We are not naming our child Naruto.”

“It’s better than freakin’ Adolf, at least.” He sneered.

“We would never come up with anything good, wouldn’t we.” She huffed. “Well, let’s just save it for our future argument, I suppose.”

“Yeah well, you’re the one who’s carrying our son anyway.” He rose from the bed and grabbed his PS console, “I’m just gonna play a little Tekken 7 over here.”

Erina nodded as the noises from the character pick echoes through the room, minding her own business and buffing her nails, until she heard something that caught her attention.

“Who… are you playing with this time?”

“Since when do you care about who I pick on Tekken?” Soma shifted his head slightly as the screen loaded, “Besides, I’ve always been a Jin main. He’s awesome.”

“A what main?”

“Jin’s main. Jin Kazama. I often play as him?” He tried to confirm, though Erina’s tone dropped after that.

“Hmm. I see…”

“What? Like you know this game or somethin’?” He cackled without bothering to check her facial expression, kept his eyes glued to the screen with fingers mashing through the console.

Erina didn’t expect any answer from him, nor did she explain her question further, but when she no longer heard the button-mashing, she saw the game being paused before having Soma turned his attention to her, very slowly.

“Did we just… Are you thinking what I’m thinking…?”

“Yes.” Erina touched her belly once again, in relief this time. “We’ve found his name in a video game.”