They spoke their hearts through their dishes.

In the silent act of communication that only cooking could convey, Soma summoned all the pent-up emotions he could not utter without the aid of knives, spices, and a spatula. He cut through their beef with his sharpest blade and found joy in doing so. Now in the heat of the battle against the First and Second Seats, having lost out on preparing the main course, Soma found himself chuckling at the irony of life. Here they were, supposed to be working as a team, but Soma and Erina were in discord. Their late-night preparations ended with a crash and the tension had carried over to this morning. Erina was acting as if all they'd gone through to arrive at this moment meant nothing. The last thing she demanded was that he leave her alone. She last told him that she never wanted to speak to him again. But they did.

Well, he did. (Because, when did Erina demanding her way with him ever work out as she desired?)

.
.
.

"Listen, Nakiri. I don't know what I did to upset you, or why you're angry with me," he said as she pulled back from him, arms crossed. "Overhearing your conversation with Chef Tsukasa wasn't intentional, but I'm glad that I did. I know why I came here. I know who I came here for." He watched as her face moved through expressions though her lips remained shut. "But since it looks like you're back with Tsukasa you're too consumed by the final bout to tell me the truth, I won't hound you." He wanted to approach her and kiss her forehead but his father's warning echoed in his mind.

'Slow down and think, Soma.'

Why it came to him then of all times, he didn't know but he chose to listen.

He moved towards the door and looked over his shoulder. Erina's back faced him. That broke something deep within him that he didn't know existed. "But one thing I do know is that I'm winning this thing, Nakiri, and ending it. Once and for all. For you. Tsukasa can't say the same."

He left, ambivalent about whether he made the right choice.

.
.
.

But now he understood. Now he would tell her what was left unsaid. He could express the feelings burning to ashes in his heart. Food brought them together and feelings were tearing them apart, but a chef could not hide from himself or plate a dish made of lies and hope to win people over. So, here on the chopping block, in a sizzling skillet and over a boiling pot, Soma poured out his heart. He seasoned his feelings into the meat and marinade in his mixing bowls. All his different Food Wars taught him that a chef's true feelings would always come out in their food.

And that the best dishes are made with love.

-8-

Rindo Kobayashi and Eishi Tsukasa presented their dishes and floored the judges. Soma included. He took one bite of Tsukasa's specialty, a beautifully plated venison dish, and confronted his toughest rival in the Food War and romance.

"Now, Chef Tsukasa, when we last battled you said that was your specialty. So, what's all this? Don't tell me you were taking it easy on me back then?" He chuckled, "Frankly, it's kind of insulting, chef."

Eishi smirked. "Ah, it wasn't intended as an insult. Rather, I didn't think you were worth the effort to make the dish at the time. But since now the emphasis is true fine dining—" he glanced at Erina, blowing a winking kiss her way. "And what's at stake is more precious than you could ever appreciate, I simply went with the greatest option at my disposal. To remind you of who I am, Soma Yukihira. As the First Seat, I will not lose."

Eishi stood self-satisfied grinning and the crowd went wild. From the thunderous cheers and applause booming through the dome from the boys who wished they were him, to Urara leading the girls and gays in swooning over Eishi's love confession, everyone in the arena wanted Tsukasa to win.

"Well! If that is not a valiant declaration of love, I don't know what is! And by the First Seat, no less! I envy you, Erina Nakiri!" Urara announced in the microphone. Soma caught sight of Rindo's reaction out of the corner of his left eye. She looked pissed. His eyes swept across Eishi's face. This was a man who truly believed he was invincible to the point of callously hurting the people he claimed to love. Damn, this arrogant asshole seriously pisses me off!

"Then, the gloves are off now, chef! Because I didn't come here to lose either," Soma said. He looked over his shoulder at the cooking station on his right. His heart thumped. Erina was frowning, nervous, serious, and cooking without passion. "You're not the only one fighting for Erina!" The arena gasped and muted itself. "I couldn't make this at the time we first battled, but get ready for my specialty! I'm going to whip it out right here and now!"

"Oh? Is this an old feud? It sounds like this is not the first time the First Seat and the rebel ringleader have faced off! I'm going to have to check the official Food Wars records! Either way, could this be a longstanding fight for Erina's heart? And does Soma Yukihira's dish have what it takes to go up against Chef Rindo's appetizer, let alone Chef Tsukasa's main dish?" Urara narrated. With each question, her tone pitched higher, fueling suspicion and gossip, and building tension.

Soma tried to ignore Urara's commentary, but she was asking the same questions as everyone else. The same questions Erina was probably mulling over, too. So, he was ready to provide the doubters and haters alike, with clear evidence.

But he focused on his priority: Erina.

He needed her to snap out of whatever daze she was in. If they were on good terms he would've just said it to her face, but through his cooking, he could tell her tastebuds and have them relay the message to her heart. Then he remembered what her father's intentions were and he got an idea.

"Erina! Here, taste these chicken livers for me! How's the flavor?" He stretched over a tasting spoon with the mashed contents in her direction. After all, sharing was caring, was it not? Erina peered at it and narrowed her gaze at him. Please, Nakiri. Please understand what I'm trying to do. Work with me here!

She put the spoon in her mouth. Soma still held onto its silver handle. "Not this," she said, shaking her head.

As Erina detailed his flaws, Soma listened, made corrections, and always returned for her final approval before moving on. He wanted her to know he believed in her judgment; that he understood her true power was her expertise and keen insight. He'd fought her enough to trust her divine gift now without a doubt. If her father was going to use her God Tongue for his selfish ends, then Soma would just have to do the same thing to liberate her from his evil clutches. It sickened him that Azami would use his own daughter as a weapon to strip chefs of their creative freedom.

He'd seen up close how that heavy burden made Erina cold and detached from her humanity, and he didn't like that. She was more than her tastebuds. She was a teenage girl just trying to make her father...her family happy. But Soma also saw how the mere sight of her father made Erina shrink into a scared mouse when she was born to be a lion. He hated that even more. To Soma, heeding Erina's corrections now would lead to the freedom of them all, her especially. This was why they would not lose. This was how he would not fail her like her father and her boyfriend.

But, he was still going to win this his way.

As he chopped the vegetables into minced portions he told her he was frustrated that she was back with Eishi. He brought his soy sauce marinade to a rolling boil, his boiling confusion over what the past month on the train now meant to her. He pounded out his agony into his pâté; how he hurt was that she'd been stonewalling him without an explanation and his aching realization that he was losing his will to fight her at all. He hoped she would understand that he was falling for her as he whipped and folded his feelings into his appetizer.

He skewered his meat roll and thought about how he was sticking his neck out for her because he believed it was the right thing to do, as the last one standing by her side. Even if she wanted him to go far away, he wrapped shaved beef around the sliced bacon holding the pâté firmly in place so that she knew he still wouldn't abandon her, no matter what. The flavor bomb he injected was his way of hiding the depth of his true feelings. A powerful reminder of how their secret moments of shared intimacy had drawn them closer. He even added honey as a promise: if she'd let him be there for her, they'd win it all back from her father and Central, together— a sweet victory after a bitter family feud. He listened to her, then he tweaked, and he let his imagination run wild to create the dish he wanted to serve.

His specialty.

Still, with each taste she took, and correction he made, Soma prayed Erina could taste and see his devotion. These bite-sized love offerings to her divine palate were done in hopes that she'd accept his final dish as a testament to his unwavering commitment to her, and a sign of his belief in her rightful claim as Tohtsuki's heiress, as Azami Nakamura did not deserve the position of Academy Director. Soma hoped Erina could see no smoke and mirrors were shrouding his loyalty and his feelings for her. The beads of sweat dotting his forehead and face were a constellation of his determination and pride to do this in front of thousands, in opposition to her father, and against her man.

So, why was everyone booing him?

"WHAT THE HELL, SOMA!" The caged rebel crew cried.

"What?! I did what Erina asked me to do last night," he said, snickering. Soma fleetingly wondered if it were possible to feel more playful and serious than he felt now. "And I listened to her today. I served up a pâté de campagne as a starter, but I've evolved, and so has the dish!" He presented his (to the unsuspecting eye) primitive plate to the judges' table. "I call it, 'Time Release: Uppity Brat-Style Primeval Meat'!"

Erina rushed over to him, fuming. "Soma! You moron! What the heck are you doing? You're going to sabotage everything for us!" She stamped her feet. One look at her angry face and everything within Soma calmed.

"I would never do that to you, Erina."

She staggered back a step at his serious countenance, but snapped out of it, shouting, "So, what do you call this—"

He put his hand up. "Listen, Erina. I don't care about Tsukasa's dish, but I gotta admit it was on another level. If you want to beat him, if you want to prove what he said last night wrong, you have to go above and beyond my dish and make a specialty among specialties, or else we won't win. So, this is really a Food War between you and me."

"Looks like the Rebel Alliance is squabbling about something again. I wish they weren't whispering so the rest of us can hear their lover's quarrel, too!" Urara fussed.

Erina crossed her arms at him. "Soma Yukihira. You don't know what teamwork means even if it slapped you in the face like I want to do now," she said, grinding her teeth.

Soma crouched down and leered at her. "Are you kidding me, Nakiri? Hell nah, there's no teamwork going on here! We're not friends, remember?" Erina puffed air through her bangs and turned her head. "We've been fighting all month and you stopped giving me the silent treatment just to scold me!" A cheeky, megawatt smile took over. "But still, this is us at our best. We complement each other very well. Don't you agree?"

She looked down at his cheesing face, burning a hole through his forehead. Her face softened, and Soma saw an expression he thought he'd never see directed his way again.

"You big dummy," she blushed.

-8-

When his dish manifested Azami's endowment gift, the power to undress people around him when he was experiencing a foodgasm, he knew he'd done his job in the battle. While he did everything Erina asked of him to help her make her specialty, he couldn't help but wonder:

What about you, Nakiri? He turned to face the girl he was deeply falling for as she began to plate her dish. She was sweating and smiling and shining like the bright morning star. Did I get through to your heart?

Then he took one taste of her main dish.

He was at the head of a heavenly banquet table. The chicken. That fucking deliciously tender chicken breast! It melted in his mouth. The fat, the gooey raw egg that easily slipped down his throat. The perfectly crispy chicken skin, depth of creamy and savory flavors, and overlapping layers of crunchy and smooth textures balancing on his tongue left him wanting to lick up more than his plate. It was a feast beyond his wildest dreams. (He also could've sworn he tasted something oddly familiar on the gourmet table, but surely she didn't use such an arcane ingredient and he was simply imagining things.)

Erina Nakiri heard every single word.

At first, Soma couldn't believe it—"Eat it, father," she sternly said, staring daggers at her petulant father as they both stood domineeringly in front of him.—But it made sense the moment she presented her specialty to the judges.

"I present to you, our main dish—an oyakodon." No one but Soma could understand why she made a rice bowl. "I call it, Le Plat Véritable—True Gourmet Cuisine Descended from Heaven—Delinquent Daughter Style!" Erina announced.

Erina's specialty dorayaki named in honor of his best friend won the fourth bout and left a warm, lasting impression on him. But this? Chills ran through Soma's body as he took a bite. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but Soma chose to believe that this elevated gourmet dish was dedicated to him. Though she refused to admit he was her inspiration until the very end, she'd used his favorite disgusting late-night snack, squid tentacles covered in crunchy peanut butter, to tie in her dish's flavors, to connect their courses, and to express what her lips couldn't utter. It was poetic, how she stole his transforming furikake just to stand up to her father the same way he used it to snag her attention from the very beginning.

And it secured their victory.

Her smug posture and carefree smile as thunder claps resounded through the arena, the righteous expression on her face as her father's endowment stripped section after section of attendees of their wardrobes, and the way her long golden mane flowed like the white tails of his handkerchief in victory, all told Soma one thing: Erina Nakiri had gained her wings as the divine messenger of culinary liberation.

He told her to say it this time. She'd earned it. Deserved it. Still, it hit his eardrums differently hearing it come out of Erina's mouth now that the battle was won.

"You're welcome!"

He nearly shed a tear standing proudly beside the sun.

-8-

But she still refused to speak to him afterward.

They'd grown closer in the months since the Central coup than their entire first year. They returned to Tokyo, as did their relief. However, it was evident to all who had eyes that an inexplicable distance had grown between them. It's been two days since their return to Polar Star, and Erina was moving back home with no closure between them to speak of.

As the year inched to a close, deep-rooted reflections finally sprouted up from Soma's head and heart. He stood at the kitchen island reminiscing and babysitting a cup of barley tea Megumi made for them upon their return to the dorm. He'd grown quite fond of its smooth, earthy bite; it was comfort in a cup, just like her. What an incredible nine months it had been. (He couldn't believe it had only been nine months.) The friends and food made were enough to last him a lifetime of fond memories. Every experience he'd had at Tohtsuki since that fateful phone call that spring day changed his life more than he could've hoped, let alone imagine when he walked into that fateful test kitchen.

Soma laughed at how much he resented his father for the first month after leaving him in Japan. But every experience he had once he got his bearings at Tohtsuki put his naïve bitterness to shame. He almost regrets doubting Joichiro's parental negligence; the old fart might've done his big one when he decided to leave Soma to Tohtsuki's devices.

Because in every arc of his first-year journey through mayhem and hell, Erina Nakiri was there, dotting each experience like jewels on a crown. He found it serendipitous how the rejection he received at his transfer exam marked the beginning of the rest of his life with her.

He was the only one that crisp, spring day who heard Erina's challenge and didn't flee. Maybe that's why he was the only one standing victorious beside her at the end.

"You're welcome!" Erina said his signature line in front of the packed arena once they were announced the winners of the Regimental Food War.

How silly of Soma to think she'd stamped them official then! As Erina pointed out right after they walked off the arena floor, "how presumptuous" of him to assume that the win meant anything had changed between them; that their time together would lead to something more now that they'd won her inheritance back, and were officially Tohtsuki Academy's newest academy director and First Seat of the Council of Ten. He thought the dust of "what are we?" between them had settled and the embers were still alight.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

"You've done a lot for that girl, Yukihira," an aged voice crowed. "I'm certain her time at Polar Star would not have been the same without you."

Soma stuttered in place, startled. Then the words settled in his ears. "Ms. Fumio?" He swung around, a bemused smirk meeting the comforting intruder.

"Go to her," the elder woman nudged, jutting her chin behind him. "Say goodbye before it's too late." Her face slowly morphed into a knowing maternal smile.

"I-I…" He cleared his throat. "It-it's not what you think, Ms. Fumio," Soma sheepishly laughed, his arm instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not like that," he reminded himself.

"Still no common sense, eh, boy?" Miss Fumio playfully chided, clicking her cheek. "One day, you'll open your eyes and see the truth right in front of you." She left him with a wink and a sharp turn back into the shadows towards her office.

Soma's attention slowly returned to what he'd been caught staring at. Or, rather more accurately...

To whom.

He had the perfect view.

-8-

Looking back, he realizes he was in love from the moment he laid eyes on her in that fateful test kitchen. Of course, he didn't know it then, misunderstanding the sudden quickening of his heartbeat for the excitement every cooking challenge brought him.

Not as the kindlings of a fiery love story.

But he knew it now. Or, at least he thought this was what love felt like— like attracting magnets, defying gravity, forcing it to pull into itself so two opposite ends could finally connect.

Like lightning striking sand and creating glass.
Like the birds and the bees in search of sweet nectar—they find it every time.
Like moving forward, and away, just to come back, full circle.
Like food too good to eat slow but too rich not to be savored.
Like the thrill of the rush to race against the clock and win.
Like sore muscles craving an ice-cold bath in a steel basin.
Like flint and spark, fire and dragons, storm and rain.
Like a moth to a flame.

Soma was attached.

-8-

Erina stood alone at the bottom of the grand winding staircase typing feverishly on her iPhone, surrounded by all her luggage. For someone who ran away to the other side of her family's property for just a little over a month, she had almost three months' worth of suitcases. She was dressed like she couldn't be happier to return to her lavish lifestyle. Though she looked as stunning as ever, a small part of Soma grieved over the comfy, casual side of Erina Nakiri being polished out of existence. It felt like an erasure of her time at Polar Star.

Miss Fumio was right; he should go up to her.

Soma strolled up to Erina, not wanting to startle her as much as Miss Fumio had done to him. He'd be cool about it; nothing too brash or assuming. Everything had changed between them, yes, but that didn't mean he had to change how he addressed her.

"Arato finally left you to fend for yourself, huh?" He acted nonchalant donning a sly grin, hands shoved in his pockets, and sporting a swaggering gait to ease his nerves. Her concentration was broken, but surprisingly she did not look irritated to see he was the reason why. Instead, a timid smile slipped through. Soma's lungs released their tension as the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding let itself out. His lungs skipped a breath or two. He no longer could tell how she felt about him, but it relieved an anxious part of his mind to see she looked…happy to see him.

"Soma," she gasped. "Um...Hisako's on her way with Ryo, a few servants, and my grandfather to pick up my things." She fumbled with her phone before putting it in a purse that looked too expensive to be so small. It occurred to him then, in all their time together, they'd never exchanged numbers.

"Of course, you have an entourage coming to escort you back to your castle," he laughed. He was just teasing her; he didn't know what else to say.

What? Was he supposed to tell the now-director of his school that he would miss her? How could he tell her that he hadn't slept well since their argument and that he wouldn't be able to sleep at all without her sleeping in the room next to him or in the bed beside him?

He should've known better. The pretentious scowl she gave him almost made him cower and hide. "Really, Yukihira? That's what you came over here to say?" Erina will always be short-tempered.

"Well, no..." He was tongue-tied and scared of rejection.

She switched her weight on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Okay, so what is it then? What do you want? Because I'd prefer not to be annoyed by my First Seat before I've even moved into my office."

Oof! She might as well have slapped him across the face. He hadn't even considered how their new roles would further affect their old dynamic. It still hadn't sunken in that he was the new First Seat at all. "Still as prickly as ever!" He chuckled, but his nerves were choking him. Was it supposed to feel like your heart was pounding in your ass when confessing? "I...I just wanted to say-"

Erina's eyes widened impatiently. Her phone dinged. "My ride is here," she said, flipping her hair, attitude on ten.

Soma immediately stepped to the side to let her pass. "Take care of yourself, Nakiri. It's been fun," he said, plastering the widest, easygoing smile he could muster as she walked by him like he was a faceless statue.

Never looking back, she spoke to him one last time. "Thank you, Soma. For everything," she whispered with her head held high. "I'll see you around."

-8-

Looking back, Soma didn't know. He didn't know that he didn't know. Heck! He didn't how to know.

How was he to notice that what he was feeling was love?

That, whenever she looked at him like he was the only person that mattered and his heart squeezed inside his chest until it hurt, it was love.
That, this insatiable craving to always find her, pester her, and make her notice him which could only be relieved by her eyes, her voice, her presence...was love.
That, the jealousy that burned him to the pit of his stomach the few times he saw her hug, kiss, and speak to Eishi was love, too.

That...every time he touched her, any part of her smooth, warm skin, and a strong electrical current shocked him down to his bones, jolting every muscle fiber in his body…he was falling in love.

He called to mind the transfer exam and the dreams and nightmares, thereafter. He remembered their run-ins at the training camp, during the summer on her property, the Fall Selection, the night in the woods, the Mito Gala, the Moon Banquet, and the rice bowl he made her first night at Polar Star. The phantom strings tickled his fingers from strumming his mother's guitar as he sang her a love song. He saw them in their respective train cars, feeding and fussing at each other, laughing about their differences and looking into each other's souls, silently snuggled together. He could feel the passion in it all. Erina matched his fire, like twin flames.

He recollected the jealousy that seared a hole through his stomach when he found out she was dating someone, and the envious knots in his shoulders when he found out exactly who. How he couldn't contain the broiling rage in his chest when he thought Tsukasa hit her, or the twinge in his heart when he stumbled upon them kissing in Hokkaido, or the cracking of his ribcage at the sight of her begging for her father's mercy. His eardrums echoed the fury in her voice at the elevators when Tsukasa doubted him, and his throat closed from the pain in his voice when she told him to stop talking to her for good. He smelled the sweet aroma of her understanding wafting through the arena and straight into his nose and mind, translating their savory fragrant notes into secret love letters.

Soma remembered every single moment he'd had with Erina. He saw every last interaction between them since the day they met flash before his eyes as Erina walked out of Polar Star's front door for the last time. But, he hoped, not out of his life.

Soma saw it all and knew: he loved Erina Nakiri. He was in love with Erina Nakiri. He wanted her in his life, in any form she would have him. He wanted her, period.

But now that Soma knew, how in the world would he tell her?

a/n: and just like that, we have only 2 chapters left. T_T but i'll save the tearful goodbye for the end.

i ended the last chapter on a disconcerting cliffhanger because it was important to me that soma be emotionally confused but never conflicted over sticking by erina. he's such a positively expressive person that i wanted to add a deeper layer as to why...beyond the love of his friendships. more than any chapter i've written in this series, this chapter was soma's love letter to erina, and mine to sorina. there's still a bit more drama to unpack, but make no mistake: this is a slow burn toward a passionate and fiery end if not a happy one (clearly bc its sequel, Comfort Food, already exists lol). still, i hope you'll find these last two chapters just as sweet and satisfying to the bitter end. if you haven't already done so at least once and you've read this far, drop a review, a follow, or a favorite so that i can appreciate your existence and readership, too. i'd also like the dopamine boost!

lastly, i've grown in my craft over the nearly two years of writing this teen love story. i hope the lot of you that's been here since the beginning...or even the middle...see that. so i've been revisiting early chapters and revising to reflect that in my writing style.