When Hayama Akira was an arrogant sixteen-year-old, he had a tendency to talk shit during competitions. And one fateful fall afternoon, over a hamburger battle, he had said something that would haunt him for many years to come.

"Hisako, it's three in the damn morning," he said when he saw her in the kitchen making herself yet another hyper-caffeinated yerba mate drink. "Why are you still up?"

She waved him off, typing away at her laptop even as the water boiled. "I have to submit this paper for peer review by tomorrow if I want it published in the journal's next issue."

He sighed. "Aren't you flying to Vienna in the morning?"

Hisako nodded, poured her drink. "It's my turn to check up on Palais. I'm already packed."

Of course she was.

You see, his wife was determined to operate as both a full-time academic and a full-time restaurateur, while still leaving herself wholly available to the Nakiri cousins and their endless wants and whims.

"Get Alice to go for you."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well, for one thing, she already lives in Europe," he pointed out. "And she's not pregnant."

She raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I wouldn't want to let that limit my world of cooking, would I?"

And just like that, she had him in checkmate. Her cinnamon colored eyes flashed, daring him to push the subject further. Akira shook his head at her, not quite in the mood to let it turn into an argument. "Just don't overdo it."

If there was a single piece of advice he had for current Totsuki students, or just people in general, it was to never insult a person if there was even the most infinitesimal chance you'd end up married to her someday.

A week after she left for Vienna, Hisako was in Boston giving a Ted Talk about eliminating food waste in restaurants to combat both food insecurity and carbon emissions. Then she had the International Conference on Science, Health and Medicine in Johannesburg.

During their match at the Autumn Elections, he had called both her goals and cooking limited, and in the past twelve years, she had proven him wrong a million times over. With degrees from MIT and Harvard and contacts at the UN and the WHO, she was without a doubt one of the most influential Totsuki alums out there.

And when she finally made it back to Tokyo, more than two weeks later, the first thing she did was open up her laptop and start working again.

Akira looked at her, half glaring, half amused. "Are you serious right now?"

"Erina's wedding photos still haven't come back yet. It'll only take me a few minutes to contact the studio."

"She has an assistant, you know."

"I know," she said. "I trained her. But this isn't an assistant job. It's a maid of honor job."

"The wedding was two months ago."

"I'm still the maid of honor," Hisako replied before reaching for her stomach, wincing. She grabbed the arm of the leather couch with a white-knuckled grip.

"Hisako." Akira sat next to her on the couch, one hand resting on her stomach and the other rubbing her back. "What's the matter?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Just some round ligament pain. It's actually quite common during the second trimester."

"Do you need anything?"

She shook her head. "I'll just finish this up."

Akira gave her a long look. "Alright, let's try this. If Nakiri Erina were pregnant and came to you with something like this, what would you tell her?"

"Oh." She paused for a moment, probably cross-referencing her knowledge of medicinal cuisine with the western allopathic practices she had learned at university. "I'd probably recommend some rooibos tea and lots of rest."

"Then do that. Give yourself the same consideration you would her."

She sighed, massaging her temples. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You wouldn't have if you weren't so tired."

"Fine. You win." With a long eye-roll, Hisako got off the couch, with far more difficulty than she would have pre-fetus. "Bring me something to eat?"

"What do you want?"

"Jerk pork," she said before disappearing into the bedroom. "Extra spicy."

Akira groaned a bit; of course she would request a dish that required hours upon hours of prep time. "Do you know how long that takes to make?"

"Yes, but your love for me is limitless," she called in response, and he could hear the shrug in her voice. It never ceased to shock him how true the statement was.

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading, everyone! I wrote this one for Shokugeki Week a few years ago. It's set quite a bit back in time, when Hisako was pregnant with Akane.