*a playlist to score this chapter in order*
Cambridge, 1963 - Jóhann Jóhannsson
Wandering II - Eydis Evensen
Flawless, My Dear - Kris Bowers
We Could Form An Attachment - Kris Bowers
Dream 1 (before the wind blows it all away) - Pt. 8 - Max Richter
With Love Comes Loss (Arr. for Piano Solo) - John Powell, Batu Sener
Adagio in C Minor - Nicholas Britell
Agape - Nicholas Britell
-listen here on Apple Music: us/playlist/agape-chapter-25/pl.u-ZmbllpatVjql61
-listen here on Spotify: playlist/5x8b5YIdeFUB9M7aRnMUQl?si=64682ed0a70a4252
-YUKIHIRA SŌMA-
November 6
"May we be excused?" Sōma's tone was respectful, but his question was a demand, not a request. His eyes shifted from his father on his left to Erina's grandfather on his right. Joichiro answered first.
"Oh, um. I mean, yeah?" He looked to his mentor. The older man's eyes grew large at the expectation of his authority. This was not what he had signed up for.
"Er, well, I suppose?" Senzaemon responded just as unsure. "Is there nothing more you kids need from us grownups concerning this dinner affair?"
Erina and Sōma looked into each other's eyes from across the dinner table and squeezed the hands they never stopped holding.
"Nope," they chirped in perfect harmony.
"Then, okay, yes. You're free to leave," Senzaemon declared.
Joichiro added, "But only if we can start eating in your absence."
"I cooked it all. I do not care. Enjoy. You're welcome, " Sōma said, hastily scooting out of his chair. He stood up and bounded towards Erina.
"Hey, you dingbat. I helped," Ryō said, peeved. Alice raised her hand.
"So if there's not going to be a whole birthday dinner intervention and reconciliation for Sōma and Erina, can I leave, too?"
"No, Alice," Leonora clipped, placing her milk-white hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You and Ryō still have much to discuss."
Ryō's head shot down the table at his legal guardian. "We do?"
"Yes...we do," the matron of the house replied. "Isn't that right, darling?" Leonora craned her neck toward her husband and jutted her chin at him for support. The elder Nakiri sibling was wrist-deep scooping up a braised lamb shank.
"Oh…uh. Yes, dear, that is correct." Soe cleared his throat and placed the meat down on his plate. Sōma could tell the man was starving and didn't anticipate being put on the spot. Honestly, he suspected the kindhearted businessman had just come for the First Seat's critically acclaimed cooking...and because his dad said. Soe didn't know what he was about to say, but he found the words with one look at his adamant wife's ethereal face. Well, it's more like he repeated his wife's words. "Alice, honey. Ryō, son. Your mother and I would like to talk to you two." The two teens reticently made eye contact across the table.
"Okay, so we'll leave you to that!" Sōma's tone was urgent as he pulled out Erina's chair and took her by the hand. "I have a birthday to celebrate and lost time to make up for."
"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," Joichiro said slyly with a wink.
"Ewwww! Gross!" Alice protested, "Grandpa, tell Chef Saiba to behave!"
"Oh, and Sōma," Joichiro called after his only child as he watched the growing young man walk away with the girl who'd become his whole world. His son had found his Tamako.
Sōma looked over his shoulder at his father. "Yeah, Pop?"
"Happy birthday, son."
"Thanks, Pop."
"And another thing."
Sōma tried his hardest not to roll his eyes impatiently, but time was of the essence.
"Yes, Pop- er…I mean, yes, Ojiisan?"
Everyone at the dinner table took note of the honorific Sōma just used—especially Erina.
"Take good care of her."
Sōma and Erina shared a tender look. Then he faced her grandfather and folded into a deep bow.
"Yes, sir. With my life."
Before walking out of the dining room, Sōma and Erina—unbeknownst to the other—locked eyes with Hisako. Sitting at the table facing them, her dinner plate empty and clean, Hisako's heart was full. Satisfied with the success of Sōma's plan and relieved to see peace radiating from her Erina at last, she smiled at her friends wholeheartedly.
"Ah, young love," Soe gushed as the two lovebirds quickly left, kissing his wife's fair hand. "Gotta love it." Leonora gave her husband of twenty years a coquettish wink like a young schoolgirl.
-8-
Sōma and Erina journeyed through the long, dark corridor in silence. The death grip clasp of their interlaced fingers and their leaping heartbeats in sync punctuated the walk they'd been waiting for but feared would never come—their return to each other. Their legs moved in step, leading them to a familiar place. As much as he wanted to run, as much as she tried to hurry, there was something sacred about their measured pace, as if time was slowing down to usher them back from the past and into the present moment. The future was already theirs, so it could wait for them to arrive.
The towering glass panels of the courtyard doors stood before them; the new moon left nothing in her wake but darkness and the gaslit sconces hanging on the walls to bathe them in their soft glow. Sōma paused to look at his love, admiring her beauty from head to toe under the flickering shadows. Erina grew coy under his doting gaze, but he shamelessly stared upon her form. A beautiful wreath of violets and ivy ribbons adorned her honey-blonde hair, which had become longer and wilder. The white dress she wore lovingly hugged her in every place he needed his hands to be touching instead. It flowed off her smooth shoulders and bloomed around her hips, seductive suggestions of a temptation he was unsure he could resist. Her toned legs stood together en pointe, delicately wrapped around by the satin ribbons of soft pink ballet slippers on her feet. Sōma wanted to slip his hands under her dress and feel the warmth between her legs.
Instead, he took the courtyard door's handles and pressed down to open both doors wide.
He held out his hand.
She took hold of it.
He kissed the back of her palm.
She blushed at his chivalry.
He cupped his fingers over hers.
She gave his rough hand a gentle squeeze.
He pulled her through the threshold into his arms with a firm tug. With his back pressed against the wall, he held her close to his chest, to where his heart's erratic beating could be easily felt.
Erina tipped her head up, Sōma's chin touching hers. She raked her fingers through the flames of his red hair. His heart rate spiked. Her silken touch sent chills rushing down his spine. Oh, how much he longed for her careful touch. Oh, how much she'd missed touching him so carefully. She beckoned him with her eyes.
"Hey you, come here," she purred.
"Hey, yourself," he replied with a devilish grin. He tilted his head and slowly leaned forward until his lips met hers.
This was no ordinary kiss. It was steamy, deliberate, and desperate. Their first kiss in two months was a solemn plea for forgiveness for the other's past transgressions—a requiem of tongue and passion.
They came up for air after time, unaware of its passage but fully aware that their lungs were begging to breathe. Nevertheless, they would've been okay if this had been their final breath.
They stared into each other's eyes. Sōma drank Erina in. He savored the softness of her angelic features, gazing back at him. It had been so long, too long, since he could study every inch of her poreless face like a work of art on display at the Tokyo National Museum. Nakiri Erina was, indeed, a masterpiece to behold. As he stood facing the very image of divine perfection, Sōma had to temper the anger mounting in him for daring to turn his back on God. He noticed the faint hints of two subsiding weary bags under Erina's eyes, and it caused his heart to ache.
Sōma changed their positions in a flash. Erina's back now pressed against the cool stone siding, he took her face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly rubbing her cherub cheekbones.
And with all the reverence in his body and soul,
He kissed her forehead.
He kissed one eyelid, then the other.
He kissed one shrinking bag, then the other.
He kissed her tiny nose.
He kissed one cheek, then the other.
He kissed her cupid's bow.
He kissed her small lips.
He kissed her neck, one side, then the other.
He kissed her collarbone, one shoulder, then the other.
He kissed her sternum.
He kissed her cleavage.
He kissed the mounds of her bosom, one breast, then the other.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
Erina pulled his head up, her heart leaping in her chest. The pressure mounting in her belly made her lightheaded. Under the cloak of the clear night, he could not see how much her cheeks were flushed.
"Sōma… What are you doing?" She stuttered to ask. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes darting around his face. His expression was severe.
"Worshipping you," he answered, his voice solid as a rock.
He leaned in to devour her mouth into his. His hands roamed and lingered over her body until they found their desired places of refuge—one cupping his favorite breast, the other gripping the back of his favorite thigh. He hoisted her left leg up and wrapped it around his waist, his fingers drifting from the length of her leg to the flowering apex between her thighs. Never taking his eyes off of her, one finger hooked the lace clinging to her inner hipbones to the side, and another slid up and down her melting nectar. She moaned in his ear as her grip around his waist tightened, pulling him closer to her. He groaned in her mouth as her pelvis tilted into his groin, and his fingers—one, then two—slid deeper inside her. His other hand peeled down the silk fabric restraining her chest, freeing it with one smooth glide. He never let go of the mound of flesh in his possession. His index and thumb fingers softly rubbed the perky brown areola; his lips returned to the side of her neck and gently licked the area a vampire would bite before he guided his tongue down a trail from her clavicle to her cleavage until it wrapped around its intended like a lollipop. He cupped his mouth around her taut flesh, allowing his tongue to do the rest.
It was all too heady. Too erotic for Erina. Yet, spiritual, like her heavenly throne room was laid bare, and she was the one being saved. The soft, breathy moans slipping out of her throat in succession had her brain begging to shut off one of its senses and cut out the intimacy of their eye contact so that she could feel everything else, but Erina could not take her eyes off of him. There was an intense fire smoldering in Sōma's eyes as he tasted her, burning right through to her soul. He was utterly devoted to her. So much about him had changed in their time apart. He was already passionate, and his energy felt like it ran on an endless battery, but this wasn't that; he felt...older...grown. Was this what turning nineteen did? Her brain was too dizzy to ask. He trailed a wet finger across her bottom lip, slipped it into her mouth, and let her taste her pure honey.
He moved back to sucking on her neck. She shuddered, rubbing the stubble on his cheek like the softest blanket.
"You're growing a beard," she noted with a sensual lilt in her throat.
He looked up and cocked his head to the side. His expression turned bashful on the dime. "Trying but failing," Sōma replied. "Do you li-"
"I love it," she insisted. She leaned to kiss one scratchy cheek and then the other. She was intentional; she wanted to take her time admiring what made him insecure. She wanted to be to him who he always was for her. When she found her way to his lips, he parted them, awaiting her divine tongue. But it never came.
"I've missed your touch," she whispered. "I've missed us. Sōma, I'm so-"
He kissed the words on the tip of her tongue. "Ditto," he growled through a toothy smirk.
"Sōma, I'm trying to apologize to you!"
"You already have. Don't let me get used to it. You'll spoil me." The levity in his tone made her feel undeserving of him. She rested her tear-stained cheek against his chest. He was too forgiving. "I'm sorry, too."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Erina said, pouting. Sōma noted how much he missed her pout. "I messed up all the goodness we'd worked so hard to get to and led us down this rocky road."
"And you led us back here."
"No, I didn't. You did. You did all of this…" her voice cracked. "For me, on your birthday. I merely showed up."
"That was the most important thing. You gave me my greatest gift."
Erina screwed her face. "I came empty-handed."
Sōma couldn't handle how cute a face it was. He pinched her nose and then gently placed his hand on her chest. He could feel the steady rhythm of the organ under her flesh beneath his palm. His face dropped its playfulness as his eyes pooled with emotion.
"You gave me back your heart."
"I never took it away."
Sōma pondered her words. "Let's walk."
-8-
Pinkies linked, they followed their usual path through the east wing courtyard's zen garden, past the koi pond teeming with a new school of fish swimming around two adult koi. They moved down the lit stone path of Senzaemon's beloved Bonzai garden, preparing for the winter dormancy, into Nakiri Forest.
The moment they stepped into the forest's shadow, Erina shuddered. The early November air whipped through the trees' canopy down to the forest floor. Sōma removed his sports coat, draped it over her shoulders, and softly kissed her forehead.
"Thank you," Erina whispered. He looked into her eyes and could see their entire lives together. He saw their past, envisioned their future, and sank into the gorgeous girl standing before him. There was no place on earth he'd rather be. They continued walking through the night woods that led them to each other two autumns prior, shifted their dynamic from enemies to rivals to crushes, and started them down their love story's way.
"Baby?"
"Hm?" Erina responded, relishing how quiet their world was with no one around. It was comforting slipping back into this pocket of their coexistence.
"Would you believe me if I told you I never stopped thinking about you every second we were apart?"
"Absolutely. Because I never stopped thinking about you either."
"Erina, it's been a miserable two months without you in my life," Sōma confessed. The emotion in his voice moved her. She looked up at him. Erina noticed he'd even grown taller in their time apart.
"I feel the same, Sōma."
"I wish it never happened. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I never said what I did in Paris-"
"No, it was my fault. I was not honest with you. I should have been honest with you."
They had arrived at the place where they ran into each other as first-years a couple of nights before Sōma's final Shokugeki for the Autumn Election. The pond at Erina's grandmother's shrine was still and serene, lit by a hundred tiny tea lights floating atop lily pads. The shrine had been further developed into a bamboo gazebo altar ornately decorated with lush greenery and streamers of Tibetan prayer flags. Offerings of citrus fruit baskets and purple flowers surrounded the golden Buddha statue before her tombstone. The stars twinkled above them like shards of stained glass.
Sōma stopped, faced her, touched her supple lips with one finger (she could smell herself on his fingertip), and shook his head. "Let me finish." Erina paused, a little surprised to be silenced by him. "I shouldn't have left your room that night in Paris. I should've stayed, talked it out, and fought it out with you. I chose to run away when you needed me to stay the most."
As Sōma spoke, Erina listened. Her heart wilted and bloomed with each reflective confession. "While you were in Seoul, I talked with Takumi. We were in Singapore helping Dojima-sensei, and I was so worried about you when I saw the storm clouds rolling in that I almost burnt two tables' orders," he chuckled at the memory. "It made me think about how dark your life has been, even since we've met."
"But Sōma, you've brought so much light into my life."
"I know that. I've made it my mission. That's why, when you were in Seoul, having a business lunch with your ex, I told Takumi I didn't think I could remain friends with Tadokoro." Erina's eyes widened like plates, and her face looked about to crack. "I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty. But I've heard one too many times from you, Tadokoro, and Hisako that I have been oblivious to everything around me. But I haven't. While I can admit that I completely missed the renewed beef between you and Tadokoro, it was only because of how much I'd been focused on us. How worried I was about your health. Since the night you said you'd be my girlfriend, Erina, you have no idea how much I've reflected on how much our relationship matters to me. How much it means to me to be your person. How seriously I take loving you…being loved by you."
"Sōma…"
"Please, let me finish. I had a whole speech prepared for you at dinner that I was going to give in front of both our families. I let that go because you beat me to the punch, so let me have this." A wry smile slipped through his stony façade. She nodded with a submission Sōma never imagined Nakiri Erina was capable of.
"I knew on our six-month date that this was it for me. You are it for me, Nakiri. I knew then, just like I know now, that you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Before you, I'd never been in a serious relationship—you know that—but I knew then that this was no ordinary love. In my eyes, we had reached a new level in our relationship, and my focus on you meant I had to make some tough decisions. And I was willing to make the most significant sacrifice—for you. The day you were crushing my best friend's culinary hopes and dreams, I told Takumi that if I had to choose between you and Tadokoro, there was no question—I was choosing you each and every time. I was prepared to tell Tadokoro that I had a slight sense her feelings for me were returning, and that couldn't happen. But I could see her developing feelings for Ryō, too, and I didn't want to further complicate things for her, or for her to come between us."
"Sōma, I-" All color had drained from her face.
"And I was just gaining the courage, just wrapping my head around having to do that, having to end my first friendship at Tōtsuki, the friendship that made me feel comfortable and safe at this snobby school. But you stole that from me. You robbed my best friend and me of a better ending. That hurt me, Erina. It cut me deep. You lied to me and hid the truth from me more than once. You were conniving and vindictive, and none of the things I fell in love with you for. And while that's not an excuse for how I reacted about Eishi, that is why I left your hotel room that night. I no longer recognized the girl I fell for. But you know what these last two months have shown me?" Erina shook her head fiercely, her eyes stinging.
"You're still the girl I love, with all my mind, body, and soul. You have me forever, Nakiri. Through whatever."
Sōma stopped talking.
And Erina wept.
a/n: hello, my loves. i hope this chapter gave you the feels that make a good slow-burn story worth the much-anticipated wait. this is the most "M for Mature" chapter to-date, and the main reason why it's been rated as such since this love story began. i poured my heart and soul (chapter 2 title s/o) into this chapter, as i knew from the start we would eventually get here, and i hope you like the OST that i prepared for your listening pleasure (i even returned to apple music for some of you!) and thought it only right on the second day of the month of love to deliver it to you, my beloved readership. and to the reviewer (i'm looking at you, xpopo) who sighed in relief about finally getting to 'some sorina fluff,' as platonically as possible, this is dedicated to you. lastly, this is not the end, but you can consider this chapter (and as an innuendo'd second title for it), the climax.
p.s.: if you're wondering what point in their love story the second half of this chapter references, go read chapter 15, 'Night in the Woods' in my one-shot series, Twin Flame: Soma's Story! a full circle moment for readers of both tales (get used to that)
and as always, please give me a nice dopamine hit and leave a review, follow, favorite, and share it with someone in the fandom you think would enjoy reading this novel, too!
-My pleasure! Hope you enjoyed!-
8.20withlove
-i do not own the rights to SnS, wahwahwaaaah ¯\_(ツ)_/¯