It was never supposed to be this way.

"The audacity!"

It was never supposed to have come to this.

"Do you not know who I am?!"

She was annoyed. She was so annoyed! She couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Do not present me with dog scraps, you commoner!"

She was annoyed because she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"How dare he?!"

But she couldn't stop.

"Ugh! You damn diner trash!"

She couldn't stop watching, peeking, thinking, reaching, tasting, chewing, swallowing, relishing, yet holding back the moans on the tip of her tongue before losing the battle to resist the repeating pattern of taking another bite until the bowl was clean.

Erina Nakiri could not stop eating!

When she returned to her senses and saw her chopsticks placed neatly inside the empty porcelain white bowl, not a single grain of rice was left in the bowl. The shame that washed over her was ice cold.

It was so unlike her to linger on a taste test like this. A full day had passed, and she still couldn't shake the phantom flavors from the tip of her tongue— her divine tongue that no mere mortal could dare to please; she'll have, you know!

She was spiraling. Gagging on the remnants at the barrels of her soul.

She was not accustomed to this craving—this appetite for new flavors, this yearning lingering on the tip of her tongue. This sensation of hunger for unrefined yet unimaginable flavors carried through the rest of her day, leaving her ravenous. It consumed her thoughts during a sleepless night. All she could smell, taste, think, or dream about was what she had eaten at that transfer exam. How she savored every bite. How it left her mind melting from misunderstanding.

What was that?

What is the meaning of this?

Who does that miscreant think he is?

How it left her tongue tingling with aftershocks for attention.

How can that taste exist?

How can I taste it again?

What could curb this craving?

But the singular question that left her reeling, her body bending backward to hide while seeking the direct source of her craving around every corner for the next two years of her life?

WHO IS THIS BOY?!

Erina Nakiri could not stop thinking about him. She never wanted to see that jerk again, yet she craved to learn everything about him.

How irritating!

Because now, as she attempts to enjoy something more suited to her refined tastes and worthy of culinary royalty, his flavors still linger on her palate. His face flashes in her memory whenever she brings utensils to her mouth. It's his cooking that makes her salivate and crave something more substantial than the exquisite gourmet dishes in front of her.

And by a second-rate chef, no less!

How disgusting!

It's been three days, and the craving still won't leave her alone! She didn't even like the guy who made the dish. She could barely remember what he looked like. He was corny and just a commoner. He was a loser, a lame who didn't even fit into her elite society, much less belong in its culinary ranks. He was a NOBODY, beneath her in every way.

OK. As a distinguished culinary expert who takes her craft seriously, she should be fair and show no untoward negative bias. Technically, she didn't even know the chef who created the dish, driving her senses wild. All she knew was what his transfer file indicated, and she threw that out the second she stamped that red rubber stamp of rejection over his ridiculous, goofy face.

Oh, but, ooooooo!

She knew she didn't like him!

Because—scoff—because, honestly! Who the hell did he think he was coming into her exam hall with that much gumption and hubris? Who the fuck told him that he could be so carefree and reckless in the kitchen, let alone in her family's prestigious dining establishment?

So, technically, it shouldn't matter anymore whether she ever sees him again. She shouldn't care about never tasting an impossible dish like that again. She shouldn't even think about him or his dumb grin and smug behavior toward her when she alone held the key to his future because what's done is done, and what's done is that he failed his exam, meaning she would never have to see him again.

So, that was that!

He had no care or regard for the finer things on life's palate. No respect and humility for the art of gourmet. He'd moved through that test kitchen like a feral cat searching dumpsters for dinner to throw scraps together in a back alley. Not as a refined culinary mind worthy of setting another step onto her campus, let alone into her kitchen.

Who raised him like that?!

She had no respect for someone like that. She could not be bothered by diner trash like him.

Yet—

Her stomach growled. She couldn't help but taste the bitterness of something familiar. The aftertaste of a vague, old memory eluded her, yet she knew it was a crucial ingredient in that damned dish that clung to her taste buds and her thinking faculties.

It left her feeling empty—so empty—hungry. So hungry. After that first bite, a hollow, churning feeling settled in her belly, causing an agonizing inanition to tie her stomach in knots, gagging her reflexes for anything else. Ever since she has been insatiable. That emptiness made her ache with hunger for another bite—even a morsel would do.

Erina could not explain without sounding insane, but the hunger! It devours her thoughts whole every time she closes her eyes to think of something—anything!—else. It chomps at her body and nips at her soul. It gnaws on her bones with desperate cravings that she cannot sate.

She had never eaten anything like that peasant's food before.

Still…

Something about the dish lingered on her acutely keen tongue. It was cloying and bitter, yet it coated a bittersweet curiosity in her senses that still overwhelmed her days later. It's something inexplicable, if not altogether inedible that Erina felt she had tasted before and had longed for ever since, although she couldn't remember how or when she desperately wanted to place it. Her diet is so strict that she remembers everything she eats and where their ingredients are sourced. Still, this phantom sensation makes her feel like she's starving for something she doesn't eat. This fake memory makes her want to eat something that she doesn't know, and now, at the tip of her tongue, it persists as its own taste bud craving on her divine palate.

Like she burns for it.

Like she craves it.

Like it will consume her if she does not taste it right now, every day for the rest of her life.

"So… Was it good?" The idiot mocked her with a smug, contemptuous grin. As if he, of all people, could decide what her sophisticated, carefully chosen palate considers good. She wanted to slap that shit-eating smirk off his stupid face!

"NO!" She tells herself the same lie all the time.

Erina desperately craved to avoid the truth for as long as she could… it left her aching with a hunger she couldn't bear. Something gluttonous, somewhere deep inside her that she didn't know but could feel, clawed at her bowels to be paid attention to, to be freed from its lightless prison. If she couldn't feed it or fill it, she would have to fast to get over it. Binge and purge out of her system.

Yeah. She could do that! She would do that. She would do anything to avoid any kind of reminder of that dish, of that dickhead, and this newfound desire pooling deep in her lower belly and drooling at the corner of her mouth, pleading, begging, screaming for something bigger, craving something that could fill that crazy, empty feeling that wouldn't leave her alone. Something

MORE.

She moistens her lips, yearning for a trace of a flavor that has faded away. She embarrassed herself that afternoon. She humiliated her honor and home training by responding to that first bite like that. It's been a week, and the flashbacks still fluster her. She could hardly contain the moan of arousal of flavors that burst out of a single taste of a simple dish in front of a stupid stranger.

Erina was hungry.

So hungry.

For more life, love, and peace of mind. For freedom. For fullness.

Later, she will feel pain upon realizing that it has always been deeper than that. That the truth was sweeter than she thought.

Butright now? She would much rather reject what her body now craves, even to her own detriment, because that is what she does. She could not let some random boy who would grow into some reckless man dictate her tastes. That is the only control over her life that she still has left. She could not yield the power of her God Tongue to just anybody. Later, she will feel pain upon realizing that it has always been deeper than that.

However, right now, during a stomach-churning, exhausting, and heart-rending week that she suspects is her first experience with food poisoning, not even an irresponsible young chef who broke culinary rules to give her that first taste could have prepared her for this newly acquired taste...

What is that?

Ugh! She doesn't know!

Erina has no idea.

(but)

She gulps down the bitter bile that lingers in her mouth and throat, along with her deepest secret.

"FUCK! THAT WAS DELICIOUS."


*breathes in the fresh air of the first A/N of a new SnS series* i'm baaaaaack! on our heroine and this story's protagonist's birthday, bc i'm the cozy writer and it's her story! ready to tell Erina's side of the Sorina love story. ready for some dark-academia-romance-drama-trauma-dumping fun?!

disclaimer: the content in this fanfiction is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. very mature and heavy themes will be covered, and might be difficult to read from beginning to end for some. some content and trigger warnings will proceed as a/n the chapters that contain disturbing themes such as abuse, depression, violence, and explicit sexual content. i don't condone or support any harmful behaviors or actions depicted in my writing. but this will not be a light, easy read. you've been warned, so you should prepare.

chapters released a month apart... more or less.