I deeply apologize for the slight delay. Germany's loss against Mexico did not go unconsidered by yours truly, as I am a true fan of them for twelve years. That was why I nearly lost all mood to write when they were defeated.
Looking at your reviews, though, it boosted my spirits. I love you.
w33hong: Essentially, I didn't intend for Souma to be OOC (and I'm really sorry if that goes against your expectations). I guess he just took advantage of the situation, while blatantly telling her that he's jealous. Because who wouldn't be? ROFL.
Galp: Thank you for reading! I intentionally put their meeting towards in the end of the chapter, to emphasize fully that Erina was really looking forward to meet him. In my opinion, if they had met earlier in the chapter, it would ruin the anticipation.
fghfro: Here it is! Though I'm not really sure on how this one will go.
Celestia's Paladin: Literally the first thing that came to mind when I finished the last chapter. I'm almost certain that I'll write a White's Day prompt sooner or later. But I guess it'll have to wait. Two chocolate-themed chapters back-to-back would only make it seem dull.
VitaMia: And I love you. I'm joking. But for real, though, thanks for reading. I'll be sure to update every now and then!
This chapter is rated mild T.
~Between the Sheets~
Tonight was the BLUE semifinals, but the TV in Polar Star broke down. Souma wonders if he can watch at the Nakiri Mansion instead. After all, it's not like he's going to try anything, right?
"Is there anything that can be done, Isshiki-senpai?" the redhead asked.
"I'm afraid not, Yukihira-kun," the brown-haired upperclassman answered, wiping sweat off his brows. For the last thirty minutes or so, the person in question has been trying to fix this dorm's only television. Of course, that thirty minutes only resulted in vain.
For crying out loud, he can handle all sorts of meats and ingredients and turn them to the most ethereal dishes. But when handed over a screwdriver and a wrench, he would quickly give up without trying. The same thing applies for (almost) everyone in Totsuki.
This is Totsuki Culinary Academy, after all. Not Totsuki Mechanical Academy.
The reason why Souma asked Isshiki to even try and fix the wretched CRT television, was none other than BLUE. Tonight was the semifinals.
Never did anyone had expected Souma to be such a fan. Just like the World Cup, BLUE is held once every four years. And hearing his father's involvement in the said occasion, it only pumps him more to watch it live on television. He would be able to learn a massive amount of cooking techniques and recipes by watching top-class chefs compete for triumph. Supposedly, this year, the infamous Gordon Ramsay would be the one of the judges.
Also, it would be a nice, refreshing break from the usual Shokugekis he always had. Being the first seat means numerous challenges every day, and being the aficionado of the said activity that he is, he would always accept every single one of them.
Besides, who doesn't like BLUE?
But, that twenty-year old television had again taken its toll. On the worst possible moment for him.
"Then we should call a repairman," Souma suggested.
"Nowadays there aren't many people who understand this type. Moreover, if there is indeed someone who does, it would at least take them one night to complete the rewiring," Isshiki sighed, standing up. "I'm sorry, Yukihira-kun."
"Eh, no big deal, Isshiki-senpai. Thanks anyway, yeah?"
"Sure, I gotta go back to the garden, though. Later, Yukihira-kun," he smiled before swiftly making his way outside. Souma, on the other hand, sat on one of the couches.
Well, this sucks, he muttered inwardly. Now how is he going to watch it? The TV was busted, and he sure as hell won't want to do it on his phone—live streaming takes away too much cellular data.
Is there any way that he can watch?
Any way at all?
Hesitantly, he pulled out his phone, exasperatedly scratching his hair while doing so. Scrolling through his contacts, he dialed none other than his girlfriend—Nakiri Erina.
"Souma? Anything you need?" she answered. They would always use their first names whenever the speakers are merely both of them, including on the phone.
"Yo, Erina, I have a small favor to ask."
"…if it's anything regarding your weird dishes, I won't approve of it," the voice on the other end coldly remarked.
"No, no! It's nothing like that—"
"—come meet me in my office, then," Erina cut him short, before hanging up almost hastily. Even with her boyfriend, that ruthless attitude of hers never changes.
He sighed for the umpteenth time today, heading upstairs to grab his cub bike key and his jacket.
Shortly, inside Totsuki director's office—.
"So what's this thing you wanted to talk about?" she prompted, not taking her eyes off the piles of paper which rested on her desk, signing them off one by one. It looked like she just got off her usual tasting appointments—the reason why she didn't even bother to talk on the phone and asked him to meet her instead.
"Um, not sure how to say this, though…," he hesitated
"Then stop wasting my time."
"Alright—alright, jeez. Okay, so…you know tonight is the BLUE semifinals, right?"
"Mhm, it's all over the news," she nodded, eyes still fixated on her arduous paperwork. "What about it?"
"By some sheer bad luck, the TV in Polar Star broke down."
"Oh, and?" she urged him, oblivious to his true intentions.
"I was wondering…if I can watch it at your place."
Her eyes widened, mouth agape. Her hand dropped the fountain pen she was holding, and her brow furrowed in disbelief. Thank gods Hisako wasn't around to hear what he had said, or else he himself would get a mouthful from that secretary. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"I'm…not?"
"WHAT THE HELL?!" she exclaimed in aggravation, slamming her palm to the desk. "First of all, that's the craziest thing you've ever said in months! Honestly, Yukihira—"
"—whoa, whoa, calm down—" he raised his hands. She was totally, extremely, utterly distraught at him, she didn't even bother to use his first name.
"—I'm going to give you one chance to explain. One!" she raised her index finger. "Go."
"…Hey, you're the one who said that I could come over anytime. Besides, it's not like I'm going to try anything—though I know you want me to."
"Don't push your luck," she sternly heeded, slightly blushing. She, of all people, should know that Souma's beguiling actions were not to be underestimated. But that's a different story. "Why is it gotta be my house? Why not use the TV in the Elite Ten building?
"Me, alone in that creepy building at night? No thanks."
"W-Why not the Aldinis' residence?"
"Takumi would be challenging me into Shokugekis. I wouldn't be able to watch."
"Then why not stream on your phone?"
"Eats up waaay too much cellular data."
"T-Then…um, how about renting a hotel room instead? Their TVs should be fine," came her fourth proposal. Souma, much to her dismay, shook his head. He could do that, he thought. As the first seat, he had the freedom to use his cut of the Elite Ten's budget for his personal life.
But that means giving up the chance to have a sleepover at her mansion. And being the guy he is, he quickly removed the idea from his head.
"Look, Souma," she sighed loudly, standing up, before making her way closer to his figure. "If one of the mansion's servants knows you're spending the night, can you imagine how fast the rumor would spread? Moreover, if even Alice knows what's up…she—she…"
"Well, we can try not getting caught."
"You mean you. Not we."
"Your bedroom has a TV, right?"
"…yes, but what—"
"Then we should watch it in your bedroom, instead! The mansion's servants wouldn't dare to go in your room unless you tell them to, right?" he grinned in victory, both thumbs in the air. "Come on, Erina. I wouldn't ask you this if it weren't for the semifinals. Besides, you can learn a great deal too, by watching it!"
She exhaled at his favor—and with him kept addressing her first name wasn't an easy fit to bear, as she wasn't used to it yet.
As much as she liked the idea of they spending the night together, it's still a no-go.
"It's still too risky—also, how do you plan on getting past them, smarty-pants?"
"Easy," he said carefreely. "I'll just climb the balcony."
She suddenly recalled the moment Alice and Ryou did the same thing when they were helping her escape from her own mansion, towards the Polar Star dorm. It was a passable idea. Not fairly decent, nor was it foolproof. But it was passable.
She exhaled, again, seeing there was no point in denying his suggestion was indeed an adequate one. "Fine."
He almost jumped in joy, his golden eyes sparkling in delight. "Really?!"
"On one condition. You have to keep all sounds to yourself."
"…usually you're the louder one when we're together."
"—I swear I'm gonna change my mind if you keep making these corny jokes," she was in no mood for his dirty farces.
"Eh, okay. Sorry."
"So? Do we have a deal?"
"Gotcha, I'll be as quiet as a mouse. Well, see you later tonight, then?"
"W-Wait!" she stopped him. "What time will you be coming over?"
"Hmm, the broadcast will start at nine—so I guess I'll be there at eight-thirty?"
"I'm not letting you in if you're late," she asserted. On what odds did she actually give him permission to let him stay the night? She mentally smacked her head for being such an imbecile—especially when it comes to this dork.
"Sure. I'll get going now, then," he bids his farewell, then went through the office door as if nothing happened.
I gotta learn how to say no to him… she adds a self-note, making her way back to her unfinished paperwork.
Deep down in her heart, though, she was secretly waiting for the night to fall.
Dusk came. And before they both realized it, it was already half past eight.
At that time, there were still many maids and butlers inside the Nakiri Mansion, as well as a number of gardeners and security guards roaming around the mansion garden and along the courtyard. He wondered how did Alice and Ryou managed to sneak past these men back then, whilst trying to make his way to Erina's balcony—don't even ask how he knew which balcony is hers.
As if he were in a stealth videogame or something.
But, like his cooking prowess, he was cunningly agile. Using the dense shrubs and the tall hedges to his advantage, he quickly reached the said structure which was supported by two huge pillars. Nimbly climbing the nearby tree to approach it, he stepped on the marble flooring of the balcony, a thin coat of sweat on his forehead.
He knocked softly on the balcony doors, in which she quickly opened them.
"Yo, good evening."
"Tell me nobody saw you," was her first words.
"…well, no, as far as I'm concerned," he paused. It was then one thing became apparent to him; she looked really beautiful tonight. As though the God's Tongue title was stripped off her, leaving only the simple—and casual—part of the woman. Sure, Souma had seen her dressed this way before. It was during her escape to Polar Star when Azami was still in reign. She was lovely then, and she was lovely now. He sure could get used to seeing her this way.
"W-Why are you staring at me like that?" she broke his thoughts. "Quickly, before anyone sees us…!" came her whispered exclaim, letting the boy in.
Just as he complied, it started to rain.
Heavily.
"Hmm," he looked outside the window. "Guess I won't be returning anytime soon."
"You were planning to spend the night anyway."
"Yep."
"Come here, you," she put arms around his neck, crushing her smooth lips with his—a small sigh escaped her throat. When she attempted to slide her tongue in, he pulled away.
"—okay, we can continue later when we finish watching BLUE."
"Fine," she retorted. If there's one thing that she had learned about Yukihira Souma tonight, it would be his love for her wasn't as much as his passion for cooking. "Just remember your end of the deal."
"What for? The rain would drown out our sounds, anyway," he laughed sheepishly, her arms still around him.
"Alice is at the other end of this hallway," she looked towards the door—as if she could see her cousin right through it. "Wouldn't want her to get any hints."
"Alright—hey, it's almost nine. Let's turn the TV on," he said, after glancing at the digital clock which hung on the wall. "By the way, is Senzaemon-dono home?"
She quickly grabbed the remote and turned the fifty-inch television on. "No. Grandfather is away on some business trip."
"I thought Senzaemon-dono decided to retire?" he asked, as they both sat on her bed.
"He is retired," she stated, looking for the channel which was broadcasting BLUE. "He's got some loose ends to handle, that's all—look, if he were here, I wouldn't even dare to let you in."
"Ahahaha, we both know you'd let me in anyway."
She blushed. "How is it that you're able to read me like a book?"
With that, the live broadcast of BLUE started, gluing their attention to the television.
The winner was announced at around midnight. A fellow from Ireland, and the other is a guy from Denmark. Souma was secretly rooting for the latter's opposition which came all the way from Africa, albeit it mattered little to him.
On a lighter side note, both of the matches were entertaining and inspiring at the same time. Souma and Erina alternatively witnessed new techniques and different approaches to various ingredients, and not a single one went unnoticed by the dynamic duo. After all, they were watching literally the best chefs in the world. It would be only disappointing if they wouldn't be able to learn new things from them.
Souma, in particular, could've sworn he saw Shinomiya Kojiro in the background—but probably it was only his eyes playing tricks on him.
They were getting drowsy. Erina leaned her head on his shoulder. The rain didn't seem like it was going to ease up—if anything, it seemed to fall harder than before.
"…let's go to bed now, should we?" she asked, lifting her head to look him in the eyes.
"—wait, aren't we forgetting something?"
"Huh—?" was all she could utter before he put his lips on hers. For a moment, he hesitated and backed away, only to be met with her slender palms on his cheeks, pulling him in for a second kiss.
Pushing him onto her bed, pinning him down while their tongues were still battling, she gripped his wrists with no mercy. One thing for sure; she would be the dominant one tonight. No way in hell would she let him have his way this time, moreover in her bedroom. Her private sanctuary—and it looked like he wasn't going to complain about it, either.
It was when they were lost in each other, did she secretly wish that TV in Polar Star would never get fixed.
I had troubles writing this.
First of all, the BLUE subject was originally World Cup (as in soccer). But no matter how hard I try, it would seem really OOC for our beloved Souma. I had scrapped this entire chapter and almost started over. RIP.
Second, just after I finished writing the office scene, I had this pounding headache outta nowhere. Googled the symptoms and WebMD said that my brain's vessels were narrowing. Welp, if you don't hear in me in one month, that means I'm already in hospital.
But England won 2-1 against Tunisia, which is nice.
Anyway, please tell me what you think about this chapter. Was it OOC? Was it rushed? Was it cringy? Was it decent? Leave your thoughts in the review section, please. Your reviews may or may not keep this series going.
Until then, cheers!