Genesis is a prequel to Renaissance, but it's also the main story from which i'll build everything else. this story focuses on the paths of the canon characters following their graduation. endgame ships for this story are pretty much solidified by virtue of the OC's i'm introducing in Renaissance, but if there is a ship you would like to see, then by all means let me know and i'll do my best to make it work in the Genesis verse.
and as always, thanks for reading!
Long before thoughts of graduation were even on his mind, it had come to the attention of Yukihira Souma that after a few years of first-handedly witnessing the evolution of Sakaki Sake, there was nothing that could faze him anymore.
But as he fiddled with the honors cords around his neck and watched Nakiri Erina take the stage to deliver her first seat address — the same stage where he'd announced his plans to take the top spot three years prior and improvised his second seat speech five minutes ago — he was automatically thrown into a kaleidoscope of frustration and wishful fantasy, both of which he thought he had effectively shut down. It wasn't about the fact that he hadn't been able to take her first seat away from her; she had belonged there and both of them knew it.
He'd taken her to Shino's Tokyo for their one year anniversary two nights ago and when she started her usual nitpicking about his work habits, or lack thereof, he'd finally come clean and admitted that the reason why he'd spent the better part of second semester abroad was because he'd been in Helsinki, talking with investors and contractors about his restaurant space, stuffing his menu with specialties, carefully selecting sous chefs and house staff, paving his path to becoming the first owner chef of Totsuki's 92nd generation. His flagship was set to debut in four days.
Then she'd broken up with him.
In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to ask her if she was down to go with him to Finland and be his co-owner chef while she was halfway through a mahi-mahi specialty he'd given Shinomiya in exchange for exclusive rights to the best table in the house, but at the time he'd been way too excited to think twice.
We're of perpendicular worlds, she'd said. We just… happened to cross. It didn't…
Mean anything, he'd finished, feeling his heart break. You're right.
"Good morning, graduates of the 92nd generation. It's been six years since we all stood in this very amphitheater with our middle school division acceptance letters and yet I remember everything as acutely as if it were just yesterday. I suppose that only goes to show how fast time has flown…"
She had perched herself precariously on his lap in his office at Legislation, laughing and sharing the Smirnoff they'd stolen from Kurokiba's locker, his arms around her waist as they bounced ideas off of each other. The final draft, completed ten minutes before it was due for approval with her grandfather and the board, seemed like a valedictorian address, but at its foundation, it was a testament to all that they had achieved as the pinnacle of the academy.
"… It is impossible to overestimate the changes that our generation brought to Totsuki. Our impact stretches from Legislation at the peak of the mountain all the way down to the front gates at its base, and in a way we have left a legacy on the rest of the culinary world that will endure for the eras to come…"
It's impossible to overestimate the changes that we made to this school, bubs. You and I altered the course of Totsuki forever, and our legacy… I guess we'll have to trust the process. But I know we'll see it through side by side, because you're Yukihira Souma and I'm Nakiri Erina.
"… I will always treasure all the memories we have made and I trust that our futures will remain intertwined. I trust that this will not be the last time we are gathered together to celebrate our achievements. We made it this far. We overcame — no, we conquered every obstacle this school threw our way. So let us strive forth, reach for new heights, and venture into the world that has already long since been ours. Congratulations, everyone."
Let us strive forth, Yukihira, and drive ourselves further into the wasteland, knowing that as long as your hand is in mine we will reach the end of the storm.
Is that a promise, bubs?
Of course it is, you idiot.
Stop hitting me. I love you, too.
"Good job," he said when she returned backstage, his voice thick with memories.
She gave him an unreserved smile reminiscent of their past and the tension strangling his heart started to abate. Just barely.
"Yukihira, will you take me home after?"
Souma stared at her in surprise. "Would you like me to?"
A single nod.
Erina managed to not fall off Souma's scooter on his way to the Nakiri Mansion. She had, against her better judgment, asked him for expedited service, and he was one hell of a speedster when he wanted to be.
"This is it, then," she said. She fought to keep her emotions from seeping into her voice, her eyes from lingering on the short hair protruding from under his graduation cap. Everything was driving her insane; the sooner she got out of there, the better.
But she made no move to go.
Souma nodded, paused, took a breath. "Can you make it to the opening? I… I'd want you there, if no one else."
She ignored the last part because he meant it. To dwell on the feelings that were still very much animate between them would only impede their futures, and to keep each other from reaching their goals would be a sin after everything they'd been through. "Maybe if you delay I could show up near the end, or maybe at closing just to say hi… I don't know."
It had always been like this, both of them making promises they'd never be able to keep, no matter how hard they tried. They'd tried. They really had.
He nodded in acceptance and she could sense his despondency. His gaze flitted down and then back up, and in that short span his expression had cleared of melancholy.
So many things she wanted to say but not enough time and no way to say them. Erina looked into his gentle honey eyes, regarding the way they glittered with an invitation to recross the blurred lines she'd slashed between them.
But that would be wrong.
So instead she extended her hand diplomatically; he took it with a chuckle, and before she knew it her ex boyfriend was holding her close against his chest. Erina pressed her nose to his neck, knowing she would no longer have the guilty pleasure of smelling the scent that clung to him at all times, some unique blend of laundry detergent and whatever spices he'd been experimenting with last. She felt his hands shift behind her, briefly letting go and then coming to rest gently in her hair and around her waist.
"Good luck, Yukihira."
"See you, bu—Nakiri." To make that mistake would be unforgivable.
Then he let go, and she was glad because she had been slipping back into the familiar sensation of his comfort and doing absolutely nothing to stop herself. Erina watched with the ghost of a smile on her lips as Souma's receding figure melted into the lazy spring afternoon.
Only when he was long gone did she realize that he had slipped his mother's white cloth around her neck before he left.
