5 years post grad
Souma had never been one for speeches—although his improvised addresses had been pretty good in his opinion—but his best man toast for Takumi Aldini was definitely his magnum opus.
Under normal circumstances he would've referenced it in every vivacious conversation he had with anyone that night, but his… uh, date… had had to cancel last minute and effectively sent him on a solo venture to the bar.
So when Marina Vesca pulled up a stool next to him and requested a tequila sunrise from the bartender, Souma had never felt more grateful in his entire life.
"The fuck are you doing by yourself?" she asked.
Well, he stood corrected. "Why're you here?"
"I got invited, Sherlock. Now stop deflecting."
"I think you were wrong, Marina."
"I seriously doubt that, but let's assume I was. How so?" Marina propped her chin on her hand and regarded the chef with a mordant look.
"You remember back when we were opening Origin, you said Erina couldn't keep up the masquerade forever? I think her facade is going to last longer than my time on this Earth."
Marina said with a straight face, "You're fucking stupid."
Souma frowned. "Don't know how to break this to you, but I'm really not in the emotional state to receive that kind of compliment."
"First of all, that wasn't a compliment. Second of all, soulmateship and horribly packed schedules are independent events."
"What the hell is soulmateship? You just made that up right now."
"What're you gonna do if I did make it up? Why don't you quit your moaning and actually do something? My intuition says she wanted to show tonight but some incompetent fuck of a politician held her back and made it impossible."
Souma sighed. "Whatever happened to love being—"
"Why is it that I've never had a legitimate conversation with Erina in my entire life and yet I can see exactly how she feels about you when you can't?"
"I don't know. Maybe because you're a journalist?"
"You're in denial, Souma. Are you afraid she's going to break your heart again? I think you'd rather be broken now by getting ghosted than take a chance and love her for real."
"Heart's already broken," Souma deadpanned.
"I know, but she's the only one that can fix that. You need to give her a chance."
"Was all this not enough?"
It was just then that a certain blonde chef decided to make her appearance at the reception. She was wearing slightly wrinkled business suit with the top button of her blouse undone and her cheeks were flushed — it was pretty obvious she'd gotten here in a complete rush without even changing.
And at the exact moment that the iconic lilac gaze met Souma's, the journalist swore the light returned to his eyes and his vision tunneled.
"I gotta bolt to Kronberg. I swear to god, Souma, the next time we meet, you will be with Erina or I will drop out of Northwestern and join the fucking MMA. Am I clear?"
Souma grinned. "I'd pay to see that."
"You're deflecting again," she warned him.
His smile widened as Erina waved subtly at him. "Yeah. You're clear. Have a safe flight, Marina."
"Now to business," she said, grabbing him by his lapels and generally chucking him in Erina's direction. "Go get her, dumbass."
7 years
"Give me one plausible reason why you absolutely cannot be the new dean of Totsuki."
Akira slammed his head down on his desk. "I can name at least ten, Kurokiba."
"Shoot."
"I finished grad school last year—"
"That is irrelevant."
"There are plenty of other compet—"
"Gramps tried to get Erina to be dean when she was a second year. Dismissed."
"I'm busy with Hab—"
"I'm CEO of NTG. Dismissed."
"Also, I have to plan a—"
"YOU'RE PROPOSING? HOLY SHIT HAYAMA WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!?"
Akira sighed as he heard vague crashing noises on the other end of the line, followed by a "Hayama-kun's proposing to Hishoko!? OHMYGOD I NEED TO TEXT ERINA!"
"Wait, Kurokiba, tell your crazy wife not to publicize. I want to surprise Hisako. Actually, after today we're all going to have to call her Doctor Arato."
"Even you? Damn. Hang on."
Fifteen seconds later, the silver haired chef turned CEO asked tentatively, "Uh, Kurokiba?"
"Yeah, don't worry. We'll keep our mouths shut. But! The thing is, I already told Chef Doujima that you'd agreed to be the new Totsuki dean, so he retired. He's getting married with Riko Eibisawa in a few months. You're invited to the wedding, by the way."
"I hate you, Kurokiba."
"I mean, if you're gonna be in Tokyo, you might as well run Totsuki." Then Ryo's voice hushed considerably, and he said in a whisper, "It's better than having Alice as dean, right?"
Akira blanched. "True. I'll catch up with you later."
"Alright. I'll facetime you when I feel like it."
Well, there was no arguing with Kurokiba Ryo.
Akira called the newly minted Doctor Arato to tell her the news.
"Alice just told me Kurokiba installed you as the new dean of Totsuki. Is that true?" she asked before he got a single word out.
The world was going to leave him behind if he wasn't careful. "Yeah. You're okay with that, right?"
"Of course I am. But I hope you focus on taking care of yourself more than the school. And Habui for the matter."
"Anything for you," Akira replied, and knew it was true. "When are you coming to Japan? I'll send a jet."
"It's okay. I'm flying out to Illinois to check up on Innlausn and then I'll probably stay a night or so at Yukihira's place. He has some interview thing in Chicago this week and we haven't caught up in a while."
Akira sighed. It'd be another three days until he saw her—and he'd been getting so excited.
But then he remembered that if all things went according to plan, by the end of the month he'd be secure with the knowledge that he'd be able to spend the rest of his life with her. Not for the first time, Akira understood just how blessed he was. The velvet box sitting in his desk drawer was proof.
Arato Hisako had changed his life; now it was his turn.
