Sōma had a lot of making up to do.
He really dropped the ball at Christmas. Now, it was New Year's Eve and, knowing Nakiri Erina—his last chance to make up for it.
He walked out to the four-block street he knew like the back of his hand to grab some last-minute ingredients. Time was ticking before the annual Sumire Shopping District New Year's Eve nighttime block party. The entire street was excitedly buzzing, preparing for the most festive night of the season. Colorful banners adorned with the shopping district's floral emblem, string lights, and party streamers were being hung and trailing along storefront awnings. Firecrackers, sparklers, and lanterns were lined along the street corners for later lighting. Children ran up and down, sneaking treats and candy from their favorite shop owners' countertops. The mouthwatering smells of chicken frying, dumplings steaming, and powdered sugar baking wafted through the crisp afternoon air.
All the while, Restaurant Yukihira was running behind schedule. The three Yukihira men ran around the kitchen, sweating bullets, to get everything on the stove, the grill, and in the stone oven in time.
"Pops! Papa! I'm back! But Shizune ran out of kombu." Sōma entered the restaurant and slammed down the grocery bags he carried on the nearest table.
"Jo, you're moving far too slow! Tamako would be embarrassed!" Yukihira Kazusato barked at his son-in-law.
"Aw, is that so?" Jōichiro replied, a devilish grin pulling up the side of his face, slowing down chopping onions for their specialty burnt fried rice. The elder Yukihira growled, pointing a paring knife at the cackling middle-aged man's temple.
"You may be called 'Carnage,' but I'll slice you up real good, boy," the elder winked and slapped the back of his head. Sōma loved watching his father and grandfather working in the restaurant. It didn't often happen since his grandfather had moved to the countryside after the funeral. He shook his head at the two, pulled off his knitted beanie, and pulled out his cell phone.
He'd sent Erina a text as soon as he woke up that morning inviting her to the festival, but she'd yet to respond. Slightly nervous that she was ghosting him, he shoved the device into his back pocket.
"Where's Tadokoro?" Sōma asked as he walked into the restaurant's kitchen.
"Oh, uhhh…" Jōichiro scrunched his forehead. "I think she's upstairs in the kitchen making the desserts."
"Sōma-chan, about that cute, meek young lady…" Grandpa Kazusato started but stopped midsentence, almost in reconsideration.
"Yeah, Old Man?"
"Is she…" he lifted his eyebrow in suggestion. But, of course, Sōma didn't catch it.
"Is she what?"
"You know…" Grandpa Kazusato wriggled his eyebrows more. Sōma blankly stared at his grandfather.
"You know he's a bit slow in the uptake."
"Hey! No, I'm not! I just don't like reading people's minds. So, spit it out, Old Man!"
"Is she your girlfriend?"
"What?! Why would you ask me that?!"
"I told you not to ask him that," Jōichiro echoed, stirring a large pot of miso with his left hand and flipping a succession of omelets with his right.
Well, I didn't want to, what with the meek way she acts around you—"
"What are you talking about? She's my best friend."
"Some would say that girlfriends should be."
"Just my best friend."
"Yeah, that's what your father said," Grandpa Kazusato winked. The two older Yukihira men laughed at the younger's expense.
"Whatever," an annoyed Sōma shouted as he bolted up the staircase.
It took Sōma two seconds from when he cleared the landing and opened the front door to find Megumi in her element, mainly because the entire apartment smelled like a mother's love. He leaned his back to the wall and smiled. "What smells so good?" he asked, picking up the mixing spoon beside her.
Megumi squeaked and jumped. "Sōma-kun! Oh, you startled me!"
"I see," he laughed.
"I'm putting a new twist to the dorayaki I made during the Regimentals," she shifted over to show him the already done mini cakes on cooling racks. Sōma licked the batter on the spoon.
"Mmm, tasty! Oh, that reminds me—I bought the pears and hazelnuts you requested."
"Thank you, where are they?"
Sōma looked around and then smacked his forehead. "With the idiots downstairs."
"Sōma-kun, you mustn't speak of your family that way!" Megumi softly scolded.
"Have you met those two?" He licked more batter and pointed the spoon at the cooling cakes. "Nice touch."
"Thank you," Megumi blushed. "Your father found a branding iron with the Sumire District emblem. Thought it was appropriate."
"You think of the finest details. It's one of my favorite things about you," Sōma casually remarked. "Thanks, by the way."
"For what?" Megumi innocently inquired as she dusted powdered sugar on the now-cool cakes. Sōma opened the refrigerator."For showing up and helping out. For always being there when I need you the most. You've been a big help, especially today." He took a swig of milk straight from the carton.
"No need to thank me. That's what friends do, Sōma-kun. Besides, I should be the one thanking you for letting me stay here after my train home was canceled last night."
"No biggie. That's what friends do, right?" He said with a gentle smirk. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he scrambled to put the open milk carton back in the fridge and grab his phone. The milk carton tilted forward, threatening to spill its remaining contents all over the kitchen floor, when Megumi swiftly settled it back on the top shelf and looked at the boy, too preoccupied with his phone to notice.
"Has she responded yet?"
"Huh?"
"Nakiri-san. Has she responded to your text yet?"
"How did you—"
"Oh, come on, Sōma-kun. I know you. She's the only one who can rattle you like this. Especially on that thing," she smirked, nudging towards the phone in his tight grip. He pocketed it, gutted yet again, and embarrassed to be so obvious.
"That's not true, Tadokoro," he lied, turning crimson and nervously rubbing the nape of his neck and looking away from the observant girl across from him. But she refused to break her gentle stare, and he sighed. "No."
"I'm sure that whatever it is, she's not ignoring you on purpose. Knowing Nakiri-san, even though it's New Year's Eve, she's probably tied down with work. You know, academy director things and whatnot."
Sōma wanted to believe her, but he couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that Megumi was wrong about this one. Even though he was impressed that Tadokoro could read him so well, he couldn't tell her he messed up, and one thing he knew very well was that you don't mess up with Nakiri Erina. Maybe you got one chance to fumble the bag with her, but that would be the last time. He told her the night before Christmas that he would see her the next day, but the blizzard that hit the Christmas Eve party he and his father were catering in Aomori Prefecture proved him a liar, and it was eating him up inside.
"Yeah, you're right. Director things and whatnot," he relented to her counsel. Megumi always knew how to talk him off the ledge.
-8-
The sun had just set on Sumiredōri Shopping District, which meant the New Year's Eve block party was in full swing. The neighborhood block captain, Yūya Tomita, announced the vendors and activities available for partygoers of all ages, with a special announcement that all food was provided by the best restaurant in all of Tokyo— Restaurant Yukihira (but Grandpa Kazusato was sure to rip the microphone from his hands to sternly remind the crowd that none of their excellent food was for free).
"So open your wallets and keep my ne're-do-well son-in-law in business!" He barked as he handed Tomita back the mic on the main stage and walked back to the restaurant. All Jōichiro and Sōma could do from behind the counter were shake their heads and laugh.
"Well, he's not lying," Jōichiro shrugged, tying his apron.
"Yeah, but let's hope his gruffness doesn't drive new customers away," Sōma replied as he tightened his white handkerchief around his head. "Ready, Pop?" He turned to his father, mirroring their excited grin. The father-son chef duo really did enjoy cooking together in their restaurant.
"Hey, who's in the Phantom?" Grandpa Kazusato asked, walking into the restaurant and pointing his thumb back to the crowd. The restaurant was already packed, and the patrons and owners looked at one another in confusion.
Sōma's heart jolted into the pit of his stomach. "A Phantom?" He coughed and met Megumi's mystified gaze. He quickly untied his handkerchief and rushed out of the restaurant.
"What?! No way!" All his childhood friends, except for Mayumi, hopped off their barstools and ran to look out the window.
Erina stepped out of an all-black Rolls Royce covered in an oversized, clover-green fur jacket. The mere sight made everyone stop and stare. But no one more than Sōma. This was precisely what he wanted; the very moment he had envisioned— him in chef mode at Yukihira, her looking like a sight for sore eyes, like always.
"Nakiri, you came," he said, mystified, carefully approaching the gorgeous girl in a beautifully sequined little black dress. It was dazzling under her dewy skin.
"You invited me, didn't you?" She snarked back.
He began to clam up. "Yes, but you—"
She cut him off with a swift lift of her hand in his face. "So, will you stand there looking like an imbecile, or will you show me around this…" Erina turned her head to the crowds of people embracing the sights and sounds of New Year's Eve revelry, holding her hand out. Sōma tripped over himself to grab her hand, and his smile reached the top of his ears at their touch. How long had he been waiting for this? To feel her soft skin in his calloused grip.
"Hell yeah! Come on! Let me show you around my hometown," he said with so much pride and excitement; Erina relaxed in his hold, much to his surprise.
"Okay, let's go. Show me your humble beginnings," she softly replied. Sōma looked down at her and didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until his chest loosened at the twinkle in her eyes.
Sōma took Erina to every shop and to meet every shopkeeper in the shopping district. He forcibly bought her a from Tomitaya Bento Shop after she demanded that she pay. He introduced her to Grandma Kiyo and shared her famous homemade honey lavender ice cream cone. (Erina insisted he used a spoon as she licked straight from the cone. But Sōma still snuck a few licks from the giggling girl as she scolded him for playing too much.)
They were hugged and tugged by partying community members; the women were beaming with pride to see the youngest Yukihira had returned from "that elite cooking school," while the men were drooling over and congratulating him for having "such a fine babe" on his arm.
After an hour, Sōma could tell Erina felt right at home, and with everything feeling right and, to his amazement, going according to plan, he brought her back to where their tour began— the packed out-the-door Restaurant Yukihira. Sōma leaned down, tucked a lock of her golden hair behind her ear, and felt her quiver under his touch.
"C'mon, I have a surprise for you." He tilted his head toward the restaurant and led her inside. At first, Erina was scared to enter, but Sōma pulled and spun her in with him. His grandfather was the first to greet them at the door.
"Yukihira, and who is this pretty lady? I don't want to get it wrong this time," he playfully elbowed his grandson with a wink. The two laughed as Sōma pulled Erina in close.
"Grandpa, this is the director of Tōtsuki Culinary Academy, Nakiri Erina. Erina, this is my grandfather—mother's father—Yukihira Kazusato. He built this place."
Erina bowed in front of the elder. "Pleasure to meet you, Yukihira-sama," she greeted reverentially.
"Oh, you hold onto the director of your high school?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Apparently so!" Jōichiro chimed in, wiping his hands dry.
Erina blushed, "Chef Saiba! H-h-hello!"
"Hey, little Erina. Remember, it's Jo or Yukihira, now. But nice to see you, as always." Jōichiro hugged her.
"Okay, I'm taking her to the roof."
"Have fun, kids," Jōichiro smacked his son's back a little too hard.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, you two," the elder warned with a sly grin. Sōma rolled his eyes. "Hush before I convince Pops to throw you out, Old Man."
"Hey! I built this place so over my dead body, young buck!" Grandpa Kazusato yelled at Sōma's back. The two teens went undetected to the back of the restaurant. As they reached the bottom landing, Megumi walked out of the back kitchen. The air thinned, but Sōma couldn't understand why.
"Oh! Hi, Nakiri-san," she petered out.
"Tadokoro, happy new year."
"H-happy new year."
Sōma looked between them before cutting the tension. "We're heading to the roof. Do you—"
"Oh, I don't want to be a third wheel."
"—need anything?"
"Did you think he was inviting you to the roof?" Erina asked incredulously.
"No." Megumi's response was so short and tight that it left nothing to discuss. She turned about-face and walked back to her station in the kitchen.
They went up the second flight of stairs to the apartment. He wanted her to stay outside while he prayed at his mother's altar, but Erina silently insisted she kneel beside him to pay her respects, too.
Then they moved to the roof, where Sōma led Erina to the edge.
"I really hope your surprise isn't pushing me off the roof."
"No, Nakiri. I wouldn't dare. Because knowing you, you'd take me down with you."
"As long as you are aware."
"I brought you up here because this is the best spot to watch the fireworks at the stroke of midnight." Erina looked at the delicate Rolex on her left wrist.
"There's still a half-hour until then. So what is this really about?"
"Well…" Sōma scratched the nape of his neck, hoping the night sky shielded his nervousness. "I was hoping, since we're alone, we could stay up here and watch them together. And, I don't know, maybe catch up until then? Y'know, it's been a while."
"And who's fault is that?" She crossed her arms and frowned.
"Mine," he said with conviction. Erina's eyes bulged, surprised that he didn't take the bait. "I'm sorry Christmas fell through. It wasn't planned, and it- I mean, I—"
"Shhh, Sōma. It's okay," Erina said, placing her index finger on his lips. "It's almost a new year, so we can just leave Christmas in the past."
"That's why I invited you to my home for New Year's Eve."
"And I thank you for that."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You saved me from being bored to death at the annual Tōtsuki investors' gala."
He moved closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Oh yeah? I thought you'd love being at the center of a room full of wealthy snobs groveling at your feet."
"Not when they're drooling all over my vintage Alexander McQueen."
"I don't understand a thing you just said," Sōma shook his head, and they giggled until she turned into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his bright eyes.
"Thank you for inviting me, Yukihira."
"Thank you for coming, Nakiri."
"I like your little street."
"I like y—"
Erina's phone buzzed inside her miniature handbag. Sōma didn't even notice she was wearing one. She looked at it and frowned. "I'm sorry, Sōma, but I must take this." He nodded in understanding.
"Duty calls."
"Literally," she shook her head and sighed. She walked to the opposite end of the roof, out of sight and out of earshot.
Sōma stood on the roof and surveyed the party. He loved New Year's Eve. The potential that the end of a year brought made him teeming with positive energy. He had his family, friends, community, the restaurant, and her. He couldn't be any happier than he was right now.
"Sōma-kun?" The mouse-like voice called out in the distance and snatched him out of his thoughts. He spun around, beaming at his timid friend.
"Tadokoro! 'Sup! Did you eat yet?"
"I nibbled throughout prep and taste-testing," she answered, moving toward him. Sōma nodded and high-fived her.
"My neighbors can't stop raving over your dorayaki, and our regulars keep asking if you're staying," he chuckled. "That's the Tadokoro hospitality I'm talking about!"
"It was nothing. Just trying my best for your family's restaurant."
"Well, mission accomplished!"
They looked at the sloppy conga line forming right across from the restaurant.
"Sōma-kun?"
"Hm?"
"Would you like me to stay?"
"What do you mean? Mi casa es su casa," he joked, but she turned to meet him with serious eye contact.
"I mean, like…" she stopped and chewed on her bottom lip. Sōma could see her wringing her fingers as she looked at her Mary Janes. He grabbed them to steady her nerves.
"Tadokoro, you okay?"
Megumi focused on Sōma. Her eyes flit between his and his lips. She stood on the tip of her toes and tried to steal her first kiss from him but froze, awkwardly kissing the corner of his lips instead.
"Tadokoro?" Sōma whispered in confusion. "W-what are you doing?"
Megumi froze and then stuttered, "I'm sorry, Sōma-kun. I know I'm not the one you want. I know you won't pick me. But I…" she wiped a falling tear, "I just had to tell you how I feel." Then she hurried away, covering her face, leaving Sōma alone on the roof.
-8-
Sōma stood on that roof in a daze. He tried to wrap his head around what just happened but could only touch the corner of his lips. It was moist. He could still feel the phantom kiss, and though he didn't like it, he couldn't shake an implacable tinge of guilt rising within him. He stared down at his bustling street; the irony of how he felt, compared to the partying happening below, was making him feel worse. He couldn't help but wonder why that happened and prayed that Erina did not see it.
Sōma closed his eyes and let out a loud groan washed out by the music and festivities around him. His diligent plan to make that night special had failed in the blink of an eye, making his head and eyes heavy…until he noticed the worst thing he could imagine.
By sheer luck, he saw her wading through the jostling crowd like a goddess parting the sea. When Sōma turned toward the roof's door, Tomita could be heard on the microphone telling the block party that the countdown to midnight was about to begin. This night was not going to plan at all.
"TEN!"
Sōma darts down the stairs from the roof and into the restaurant. His father, carrying two hot plates, spots him and gives him a knowing nod over his shoulder in the proper direction.
"NINE!"
He squeezes through the drunken patrons stuffing their faces and clapping their hands in joy.
"EIGHT!"
He rushes past Megumi at the restaurant's door. He vaguely hears her call out to him in concern, but his legs refuse to stop running.
"SEVEN!"
He struggles past his childhood friends and neighbors singing, trying to pull him close to join in the celebration.
"SIX!"
He frantically searches the street, looking for the best route through the crowd. He finds her standing at the door of the chauffered Rolls Royce she arrived in, waiting for the driver to open the door for her.
"FIVE!"
He calls her name and grabs her hand just before she closes the door. She looks like a frustrated angel pouting under the lantern lights.
"FOUR!"
He pulls her out and presses her against the side of the car, letting his eyes roam around and soak in her full-mooned face. He leans in to close the small distance between them, wraps his right arm around her waist, and intertwines his left hand into her right.
"THREE!"
He asks her why she is leaving so soon. Erina bores an unsettling look into his soul and coldly utters one word— "Megumi." His heart hiccups in distress.
"TWO!"
"There is no me and Megumi. It's always been you, Nakiri. Only you," he confesses to her as fireworks and cheers erupt, setting the mood right for a brand new year full of renewed hope and, hopefully, second chances. He leans in to kiss her.
"ONE!"
But Erina turns her head to the side and huffs. Sōma pulls back and can see in her eyes that her pride has returned. Her brick-red lips tell him sternly that she refuses to have sloppy seconds.
"Happy New Year, Nakiri," he whispers in her ear, kissing the crook of her neck right under her jawbone, tucking a long golden lock behind her ear.
a/n: have a safe and happy new year, everyone!