This story is a sort of what-if departure from canon. One single event changes and this dominoes into a series of larger and larger changes. The departure takes place right at the start of Chapter 150. So fans who aren't up to date on the manga may be a little confused, as Azami Nakiri isn't a character presented in the anime yet.

Regardless, please enjoy and leave feedback, be it praises or flames!

"I just happened to be in the area. Erina is here, isn't she?"

Sōma looked at the pale visage of Nakiri Azami, Tōtsuki's new director. The man cut a rather intimidating figure in his dark, expensive attire. Sōma didn't know much about fashion but even he was sure that the man was probably wearing an ensemble that cost more than a small car. Sōma smiled, his face an empty show of politeness.

"…and if she is?"

Azami looked down, cold eyes boring into Sōma's, in a look that would've frightened pretty much anyone else. Instead, it just annoyed Sōma, who needed no extra reason to dislike the man in front of him. The old man's words were still fresh in his mind, as if it wasn't bad enough that he was the ringleader behind the plot that almost tore down his dorm.

Azami held his gaze for a few seconds before looking up and past the red haired youth. He could hear loud music and excited yelling coming from further in, a telling sign of what was most certainly a premature victory celebration. With a conciliatory pat on the shoulder, he moved to walk past the young chef blocking his path.

"If you'll pardon me."

He found his advance halted, however, as he bumped into the young student, who had refused to move. Instead he'd extended his arm, barring access completely. It wouldn't stop anyone determined, but the intent was clear. You shall not pass.

Azami was taken aback for a moment. He was rarely denied anything, let alone held back in such a clear, physical manner. He couldn't even remember the last time someone had touched him against his will. Between his wealth, power and security team, he'd always been capable of maintaining the bubble he chose to isolate himself in.

And now this insolent dreg of the cooking world had intruded upon it.

Azami frowned, life coming back to his dull orbs where they had been so cold. He glared at the boy in front of him, who showed no remorse for his social faux pas. His voice, where it had been cold and distant before, was now a bit more alive, albeit with sarcastic bite.

"My apologies, your caution is understandable. You must certainly have no idea of who I am."

"Nakiri Azami. The guy that replaced the old man and runs Central, right?"

Azami didn't blink.

"In so many words, yes. I have an interest in seeing my daughter, so, if you would…?"

Sōma was unmoved.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure what you mean Nakiri-san. I don't think there's anyone here you would call your daughter."

With each second spent wasted on the bold Tōtsuki student, Azami's ire ticked steadily upward.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I have it on good authority that Erina is inside of this dormitory. So, if you would."

With a more forceful push, he unseated Sōma's arm, gripping it and pushing it from the door jamb, before striding past him with almost palpable contempt. He released the boy's wrist, only to find his own grabbed in return, the surprise stopping him almost more than the force behind the hold.

"I feel it is I who should be apologizing to YOU, Nakiri-san. Perhaps I wasn't very clear. You aren't allowed inside these walls."

Azami turned, what had been embers now a roaring fire. His voice, however, had dropped even lower. Calling it ice would've almost been generous.

"You dare talk down to me? You insolent commoner?"

"It seems I do."

Azami stared down at the unflappable student. He could find his daughter after he'd crushed this miserable insect.

"If you don't take your hand off of me and step aside, then you can consider your time at this school finished. You have until the count of three. And I start counting at two."

Sōma released his wrist, and Azami straightened the cuff, his anger still apparent in the twitching of his fingers as he attempted to adjust the gold disc at the base of his sleeve.

"Leave my presence. You've overstayed the welcome you never had."

Through the brilliant combination of a stubborn cuff-link and his customary arrogance, Azami Nakiri never saw the fist coming. He certainly felt it however, as he took the blow directly to his cheek. The punch was solid and it sent him reeling as he stumbled back, passing over the threshold he'd only recently forced his way over.

"Nakiri-sama!"

He heard rustling behind him, as the team of security he routinely held in place witnessed the action and started moving from the perimeter he'd had them set up. In a scant few seconds, the Yukihira boy found himself trussed up between two suited men who towered over him, his feet barely grazing the ground in their hold.

"What would you have us do, Nakiri-sama?"

The blond behind him, his head of security, was the one that posed the question. Azami looked over at the man, still a bit stunned from the blow, though he would never admit it. It had been a well delivered punch, and he'd been utterly unprepared for it. He rubbed at his jaw, where he was sure a glaring red mark would be prominent on his pale complexion in a few hours, if not less.

"Drop the boy."

"But…sir…?"

Azami's eyes moved, delivering a flat stare.

"You would question me? After such a colossal failure by you and yours? I thought you wiser, Hideki."

The blonde's face blanched and he looked over at his men.

"You heard him, drop the boy!"

With little ceremony, Sōma was put on his feet, his calm expression belied by his clenched fists and notable breathing. It wasn't every day you were held by the trained security of the guy you'd just clocked. Despite this, he looked at the Tōtsuki head, who was still rubbing his jaw, although he now looked almost curious, as opposed to incensed, his calm having had the time to reassert itself.

"To be fair, I did warn you. Nakiri-san."

Sōma almost made the respectful address sound like an insult.

"I suppose you did. Tell me, Hideki, what is this boy's name?"

Hideki reached into his pocket, pulling out a smart phone. He tapped and swiped at it, eyes moving across the screen, before alighting on something.

"It appears he is…Yukihira Sōma. 1st year. Hails from…hmm? It says he attended some middle school in the inner city. It wasn't even a culinary institute! He's the infamous transfer student, Nakiri-sama."

Azami made a noise, as if he'd understood something.

"I see. Well then, Yukihira Sōma. I applaud you for making what was perhaps the most foolish mistake you'll ever have the misfortune to make. You're immediately expelled from Tōtsuki. Furthermore, assault charges will be filed. I'll do you the service of not calling the police and having you arrested, but you can expect them to contact you tomorrow morning. I'll leave you the night to pack your things."

With each word, Sōma felt his heart drop a bit more. Even he knew that punching the rich asshole director of his school was a dumb idea. But every word out of the darkly dressed man's mouth had just made him more and more angry, and by the time he'd told him to leave, it felt like Sōma had blinked and found his hand outstretched, his knuckles aching.

Calm down Sōma. Think. There has to be something you can do here.

His usual confidence had almost left him though. It was taking everything he had to appear as nonchalant as he did and even then, it was only an instinctive reaction. He'd learnt long ago that you couldn't give your opponent anything to work with, in cooking or otherwise. It was important that they not know how much they made you sweat, else they'd hop on that weakness.

And if there's anyone who'd shred me at the first sign of weakness, it'd be this man.

So maybe he'd just have to show him that he was strong…would that work?

"I don't think I'll be needing the night, Nakiri-san."

Azami smiled coldly.

"So you plan to leave right now then? How expedient of you."

"Nah, it's not that. I just figured…as the headmaster of Tōtsuki, I'm sure you wouldn't mind participating in a Shokugeki with me."

Sōma had said the words with a calm he didn't feel, but the effect was immediate, though not the one he'd hoped for.

The security force surrounding them chuckled. The laughter was low and controlled, but the mirth was very real. Hideki looked like he was only restraining himself out of professionalism and respect for his proximity to his employer. Azami was too dignified to respond vocally, but his demeanor said it all.

Unacceptable

"As even the dullest rock at Tōtsuki Culinary Academy would know, shokugekis require stakes. Stakes acceptable by both parties. And I'm afraid that there's nothing you could offer me that would satisfy my desire to see you swiftly and brutally punished."

Sōma felt his face twitch, barely a movement, centered near his left eye. It was a sign he'd grown familiar with, although it probably looked like nothing to an outside observer. He was reaching the end of his rope. He had no cards in his hand, and he was all in on a pair of twos.

"Actually."

Sōma cursed at the way his heart jumped and his eyes snapped up to stare into Azami's. Those cold, shark-like eyes stared back, with a close lipped smile that could only be called predatory.

"There may be a way out of this for you after all."

Sōma cocked an eyebrow, the gesture overly nonchalant. He folded his hands in a futile attempt to hide their trembling.

"I'm listening."

High above the tension below, a single tile shifted slightly, unnoticed.

"And that's all I got to see."

Isshiki Satoshi stared out at the people before him, the current residents of the Polar Star Dormitory.

Their faces were in varied states of shock as they stared at the calm visage of the seventh seat of the Elite Ten. He stood before them in nothing but an apron, while wearing a serious frown. These were two parts of Isshiki Satoshi that weren't often seen together.

He'd left the party to search out Yukihira Sōma when he'd heard the sound of cars pulling up. Several cars. And he'd witnessed the confrontation between the two prideful men, hiding himself in the crawlspace as was his wont as things grew heated. He didn't know if Sōma would need a witness when this was all said and done. There was no telling what sort of thing Nakiri Azami would do to his friend while he thought there was no one around to stop him.

He'd seen Sōma get expelled, before Azami dangled his last hope before him, like a keychain before a cat. He hadn't been able to hear much else, as they left the building soon after, but he knew that Azami had asked Sōma to come with him, and that he'd went willingly.

Erina's face was ashen, as she stared at her fellow council member, who looked back at her placidly. He wasn't blaming her, per se, but he also wasn't naïve enough to think that any of this would've occurred without her presence, and this knowledge showed on his face.

He said nothing, however, and merely turned, once more clad in the suit he'd been wearing earlier in the day. Whereas his rapid costume changes were usually a thing of levity, there was nothing worth joking about. Not now.

Ryoko and Yuki were conversing quietly, their faces mirror images of nervousness. Marui was listening to the conversation, not participating but clearly just as worried. Megumi was staring off into space, her face blank as if someone needed to hit her reset button. She idly traced a kanji character on her hand, over and over.

"Erina-chan. Do you have your father's contact information?"

Erina started, as if surprised she was being addressed. Isshiki looked back at her imploringly and she looked away.

"I…I do. Let me just get my phone."

"Thank you. Hurry, please."

His words were short, and his tone was clipped. If Erina noticed, she didn't react as she got up and walked out, heading towards the room she'd been allotted. Once her gowned figure left the doorway, Yuki turned to Isshiki, the annoyance plain on her face.

"Isshiki-senpai! Why are you being so mean?"

He turned to look at his kouhai, his expression unchanging.

"I can't help it, Yuki-chan. Erina's brought her problems straight to our doorstep, and now one of our own is paying the price for it."

Yuki's cheeks puffed out as she squinted, anger glinting in her eyes.

"It's not her fault, Isshiki-senpai! No one told Sōma-kun to punch the frigging director, that Nakiri Azami is just-"

"I know." He said, cutting her off. "This isn't about blame, Yuki-chan. This is about cause and effect. And Erina is undoubtedly the root cause for such a thing. It's not her fault, by any means, but…"

Isshiki sighed.

"I can't help but be a bit unhappy with her, that's all."

The topic of their conversation walked back into the room, and Yuki bit her tongue, glaring at the older student as Erina walked forward, her face even more conflicted than it had been before.

"Erina-chii. Are you okay?" Ryoko asked worriedly.

In response, she held her phone out to Isshiki, who took it and looked at the screen. His eyes widened a fraction, but his frown deepened.

"It's a text. From Sōma-kun."

Nakiri. Your old man is letting me use his phone to send you a message. It's Sōma. Please let the rest of the guys know that I am fine and to check their phones, if they haven't already. I won't be returning to the dorm for a bit. I may even be out of Tōtsuki for a while…but I will come back. For sure. Tell them that you'll take care of my duties there while I'm gone. I'm entrusting my friends and my dorm to you. I can't make you admit that my food is delicious without the support of that place and those people. So keep them safe for me.

If she'd been more herself, Erina would've been furious at the presumption displayed by the transfer student. How dare he assume she would do all of his work while he left? But she wasn't mad at all, she actually felt…grateful. It felt like she was getting his approval to stay here, in this place, away from her father.

Almost as if prompted, Tadakoro Megumi's phone buzzed in her pocket, rousing her from her repetitive, blank state. She dug around in her dress pocket, retrieving the device before looking at the screen.

"It's from Sōma-kun."

She read it over silently, her eyes widening with each scroll downwards. Her cheeks started to turn red and tears formed in her eyes. Without a word, she let out a choked cry and ran from the room.

"Tadakoro!"

She ignored Isshiki's call and they could hear her slippers slapping at the floor as she fled the dining room, and up the stairs. A short while later, a slam was heard, Isshiki glanced upwards worriedly, before looking over at Sakaki Ryoko.

"Ryoko-kun. Maybe you should…"

With a wave, Ryoko nodded, understanding Isshiki's intent before she walked off, pulling at Yuki's sleeve, the blonde looking almost as distressed as their blue haired friend. They exited the room, following in Megumi's path, albeit at a much quieter pace, quietly discussing what they could do to help their troubled dorm mate.

Isshiki's own phone went off right then, his Harvest Moon text tone jingling, and he pulled out his phone, already having a feeling about who the message was going to be from.

Isshiki-senpai. Look. I had a…talk with Nakiri's dad. Our new headmaster. I'm heading away for a while. I don't know when I'll be back to the dorm. Or Tōtsuki. But I will be back, one way or the other. I'm just sorry I'm not there to ask this of you in person: please watch over the dorm. Heh, I guess I don't need to ask you to do that really. You probably already will. But here's something I do need to ask you then:

Please watch over Nakiri. I'm leaving her to you and the rest, and I expect you all to get her to the point where she is comfortable enough with herself and us 'commoners' to admit that my food is delicious. I refuse to accept disgusting as an answer (unless we're talking squid tentacles and honey!)

I know that's a lot to ask of you, but I trust you and your naked apron can handle it, ne Isshiki-senpai?

Isshiki closed the phone, stowing it in his pocket. He looked over at the honey blonde haired woman, his newest ward if his friend's words were to be believed. She still looked dazed, but she was slowly recovering as she spoke in quiet tones with Fumio, their dorm leader. The old lady was no stranger to comforting hurt youths, and her skills showed here, as she did what she could to calm the Nakiri heiress down.

For you, Sōma-kun, I suppose I'll have to. It'd be rude to deny someone's last requests.

Isshiki would've normally laughed at the off color joke, but he couldn't find the humor in it. It seemed a bit too real.

Ryoko and Yuki returned, much too quickly, and explained that Megumi refused to open her door. They could still hear her crying, but she refused to speak with them and wouldn't let them in. Isshiki looked over to their dorm mother, who was still in conversation with Erina, and decided to handle matters himself. He wasn't as close with Megumi as he was with some of his other freshman dorm mates, but they were all his precious kouhai, one way or the other.

Not to mention, Fumio was much too old to be climbing through the rafters the way he could. And he had a feeling that the little bluenette was going to be less than willing to open the door for anyone anytime soon.

After that eventful night, none of them heard from Yukihira Sōma again. Calls got sent straight to voicemail, and texts went unopened and unread. After a month, the number was disconnected entirely, making all attempts to contact him even more futile.

Nakiri Azami had halted his relentless pursuit to crush the individuality from Tōtsuki, but made it clear that his opinions had not changed. He remained close lipped about any specifics, and a frustratingly small amount of information had been released to Tōtsuki at large, meaning the rumor mill churned, wild theories being the norm rather than the exception.

Nakiri Erina stayed on as a resident of the Polar Star Dormitory, eventually being granted permanent lodging after passing the standard entrance exam with flying colors, evidenced by Fumio's…enthusiastic response to her dish. She was worked into the chore rotation, getting off to a rocky start as she was forced to do manual labor for the first time in her life. Any cook worth their salt could clean plates and scrub pots, but that was a far cry from being able to till land and pluck a chicken.

The other members of Polar Star were patient with her, and helped ease her into things, although they also butted heads with her more than once, unintimidated by her fame after a few short weeks. It was to be expected, and they never disagreed over anything serious anyway, and Erina found that she honestly enjoyed her time spent helping Marui clean up after their celebrations, or minding the crops with the former seventh seat. She'd even roped Alice, who was almost just as clueless about the real world as she was, into assisting her with a few of their chores, and it was soon a common sight to see the Nakiri duo struggling to work a fermentation still or herd animals through the halls without Fumio's notice.

No one brought up how strange it was that Nakiri Azami had made no move to reclaim his daughter in the almost-full semester she'd been with them. He'd remained a distant figure to both them, and Tōtsuki on the whole, and the residents of Polar Star were glad for it.

In fact, it was as if Central itself had also gone into hibernation with their leader. The students still attended classes, their Central pins proudly displayed, but their activities as a body had stopped, for all intents and purposes, and any questioners were politely told to shut up and keep it moving. All research societies had been allowed to remain as they were, and the curriculum itself hadn't suffered any major changes.

It was the calm before the storm, and the end of that calm was made known when a new class, Diversity through Cooking and Travel, popped up on everyone's schedule one day, a little more than three months after Azami's coup. It was a course about bringing various aspects of cuisine from all over the planet together in new, harmonious ways. It sought to break down the walls that separated the various food cultures of the world, while still allowing each style of cooking to shine through. It was a wonderful class that most of the students enjoyed, thanks in no small part to the quirky, newly hired professor that ran it.

"Saiba-sama!"

Megumi bumped into Erina, almost throwing both girls over in the threshold of the classroom. She looked over the frozen girl's shoulder, wondering what had her so entranced, but she then froze as well.

Standing before them, looking almost uncomfortably out of place in a high collared chef's uniform, was a tall man with long, dark brown hair, slung into a ponytail. A man once hailed as the Asura, and a former second seat of the Elite Ten. Yukihira Joichiro. He smiled at the two girls and waved, beckoning them inside.

Megumi needed no further prodding and she tore past Erina, who barely noticed as she stared at the form of her long lost idol. She bowed hurriedly, before looking up at the man.

"Greetings Joichiro-senpai."

"Ohayo, Tadakoro-chan is it? How are you?"

He looked over at the blonde that still stood frozen in the door way, where she was noticeably holding up the procession of students trying to get in. However, her reputation as both the Tenth seat of the Elite Ten and God's Tongue kept anyone from doing anything more than standing in line behind her.

"Erina-chan, long time no see. You're holding up traffic, you know. Come in."

At his words, Erina flushed, moving aside to let in her fellow students as she walked to the front to stand beside Megumi.

"Joichiro-senpai. If it wouldn't trouble you, would you perhaps know…"

He held up a hand, cutting Megumi's sentence short.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions that have nothing to do with class, right Tadokoro-chan?"

The short girl nodded, trying and failing to not seem desperate.

"I'm sure you probably have questions as well, Erina-chan. But now isn't the time. How about we speak after the school day's over, alright? Meet me in my office. It's two doors down from this room."

It was plain to anyone that Megumi wasn't satisfied with the dismissal, but Erina stepped in, shushing her friend, and pulled her to their station. She didn't know what it was her friend had to ask the man, but if he asked them to wait, it could wait.

They were halfway through the class before it even occurred to Erina to ask her friend how she knew her idol.

And that was how Nakiri Erina learnt her childhood crush was Yukihira Sōma's father.

It took her the rest of the day to come to grips with the realization, which had added yet another new dimension to her complicated feelings towards the red head, but by the time she and Megumi stood before their new teacher's office door, she felt she'd gotten a handle on her emotions.

This handle went flying out of the window as she opened the door and saw a scene she would've never expected. Her heart leapt into her throat as she stared, feeling a familiar conflicting set of urges. Obedience mixed with fear.

Joichiro sat behind a desk, leaning fully back on the chair with his feet propped up, as he eyed the two men at the window. Her father looked over at her, idly noting her presence, before looking away, returning to the quiet conversation he was having near the window with one Yukihira Sōma.

Sōma looked different from the last time Erina had seen him. The young man had discarded the Yukihira Restaurant shirt that was his trademark, and instead wore a dark blue button up shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, exposing his wrists which were both free of the white cloth that usually adorned one of them. A simple, silver chain was wrapped around his left wrist instead, although it seemed functional as opposed to decorative.

"Sōma-kun…"

Megumi's voice was hushed, but it was enough to make all conversation in the room stop. The boy in question turned, and it was then that Erina saw that it was more than his clothes that had changed.

Sōma's golden eyes were still the same bright yellow shade, but they reflected none of the cheer and goodwill that his gaze had previously held. The orbs were cold and unflinching, almost polar opposite to what they'd been before. It was a wonder that these were the same eyes at all. His face was blank but polite, distinctly neutral but oddly inhuman. It took a second for Erina to place why the expression seemed so terrifyingly familiar.

"Tadokoro-san. It's rude to interrupt when others are speaking."

His voice was curt and soft, his words polite on the surface but with none of the inherent respect from someone who was truly trying to be deferential. It was a perfectly pale mimicry of the way Nakiri Azami spoke to those he considered worthless.

Sōma turned back to the headmaster.

"I apologize for my acquaintance's breach of courtesy, Nakiri-sama."

Azami smiled softly.

"That's quite alright, Sōma-kun. We shall continue this discussion later, they're our guests after all. It would be unseemly to keep them waiting."

With a nod, Sōma turned to face his father, who still sat behind his desk, the very picture of disinterest as he watched his son converse with his former school mate. At the unspoken cue, the Tōtsuki professor put his feet down, swiveling to face the two stunned students. He smiled gently

"Tadokoro chan, would you mind going for a walk with Sōma? I'm sure you'd love to reconnect with him. Azami-san and I need to have a word with Erina."

Both girls started, before looking at each other with concern, albeit for very different reasons. Megumi was clearly torn. She wanted to be there for her friend, but she also desperately needed answers from their formerly missing classmate.

"It's fine, Megumi-chan. I'll be ok. Go on. And don't let that idiot off easy."

The gibe was delivered with no heat, and Erina thought she saw a ghost of a smile on the younger Yukihira's face before it settled back into that disconcerting mask. Sōma walked towards the door and opened it, gesturing for Megumi to follow him and, with one last backwards glance, she did.

Erina tried to hide how her heart jumped as the door's catch slid into place, but she doubted it fooled either of the men before her. Joichiro cleared his throat and pushed a piece of paper towards her as her father resumed gazing out of the window, her pulse slowing a bit as she wasn't being subjected directly to his gaze.

Erina looked at the paper questioningly. It was some sort of notice, branded with both the official Tōtsuki seal and her father's own signature.

She picked it up, reading through it briefly, before stopping and reading through it again. Her hands gripped the paper, threatening to tear it as she took in what it said.

By the decree of the director of Tōtsuki Culinary Academy, Nakiri Erina is dismissed from her position as the Tenth Seat of the Elite Ten Council. Her replacement is to be determined by the director, pending the approval of a body made up of the remaining Elite Ten Council members.

Any and all duties associated with the tenth seat will be summarily handled by the remainder of the Council and the Central Administration. All privileges, including any and all facilities, tools and budget allocation awarded to Nakiri Erina during her tenure as the Tenth Seat shall be immediately revoked and repossessed by the Central Administration. This includes anything awarded to Nakiri Erina as per the terms of a Shokugeki in which her seat, or privileges/benefits associated with her seat, were held as stakes.

Effective immediately.

Erina dropped the paper, the official document dropping to the ground, partially crumpled from where her fingernails had bit into the edges. She felt a familiar ice start to creep into the edges of her mind, but she pushed it back with practiced ease. She looked down at her hands and traced a kanji on the left one, before bringing it to her lips.

After a few iterations, she felt markedly calmer and she looked up at the sympathetic face of her newest professor.

"Erina-chan. I know this must be quite surprising. Are you alright?"

Erina nodded, folding her hands together primly as she sought to reclaim the regal air she'd had little reason to use recently. She closed her eyes and sighed, before looking at her father, her purple gaze set on his coated back.

"What is the meaning of this, tou-san?"

Azami looked away from the window, as he turned to face his daughter. He stared at her, saying nothing as the seconds ticked on, but she held his gaze, where before she would've averted her eyes in deference.

After a minute of impromptu staring, Azami sighed before striding past, not even looking at where his child sat.

"Saiba-senpai. I leave the rest to you."

Those were the only words he said, before leaving the office. Erina waited until she could no longer hear the scuff of his shoes on the tile outside, before sighing. She leaned back in the chair, clutching her hands to her chest as she tried to calm down, her heart racing inside of her chest. That minute of staring had felt like it was never going to end, each second bringing more and more ice into her psyche. She traced a kanji into her hands before 'eating' it about three times, before she finally looked up, into the bemused face of Joichiro.

"Done yet, Erina-chan?" he asked, a note of teasing in his voice, and she blushed, averting her eyes.

"Y-Yes, Saiba-sama."

The chef sighed, before leaning forward and bopping her lightly on the head, eliciting an 'eep' from the young heiress.

"It's been a while since I've had to tell you this, but stop with all that -sama crap. I'm nobody special, Erina-hime." He said, smiling at her. "Besides, I go by Yukihira now. So Yukihira-san, or even just Joichiro, is more than fine."

Erina blushed even deeper at the use of his childhood nickname for her, and she looked away from him, turning up her nose.

"Well…be that as it may. What exactly is going on here, Sai-Joichiro-senpai?"

Joichiro's face lost some of his levity and he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Well…things happened. I'm sure you're aware of that little dust up between my boy and your old man a couple of months ago, right?"

Erina nodded, still finding it a bit hard to reconcile the image of her idol being the father to her…whatever Sōma was to her.

"Well, Sōma called me a couple of days after that. Gave me the breakdown, and told me he was calling in a favor. Some other stuff happened and, after speaking to Nakamura, I agreed to teach here for a year or so." He shrugged. "As far as why you were dismissed from the Elite Ten, I really couldn't say. Your dad didn't really give me all of the details."

The room was silent.

"Joichiro-senpai…with all due respect. You didn't really explain anything."

Joichiro grinned cheekily.

"It would seem that way, huh? I'd like to tell you more, but I'm kind of bound by my word here. You'll have to ask Sōma or Nakamura for more details."

Both of those prospects didn't particular appeal to the young woman but, even as a child, she remembered how frustratingly enigmatic her former house chef could be about the simplest things sometimes, and she could tell she wasn't going to be getting anything more on the subject here.

Deciding to switch gears, Erina asked.

"Joichiro-senpai. Now that you're going to be here for a while, do you think…would you perhaps be willing to…"

A knock at the door interrupted the question and Joichiro gestured for Erina to pause.

"Come in!"

The door opened, admitting the figures of Megumi and Sōma. While the boy's demeanor appeared unchanged, Megumi's shoulders were noticeably slumped, and she looked to be either on the verge of tears, or just having finished crying. She walked forward into the office on shaky legs, looking as if she'd fall over any second.

"Megumi-chan!"

Erina got up, walking over in brisk strokes to her friend. She tried to take the girl's hands in her own, the way Hisako often did for her, but Megumi warded her off, stepping back.

"I'm fine, Erina-chan. Don't."

A sob escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes.

"Don't worry. Let's just go home…please."

Erina looked her friend over with concern, wanting to reach out and comfort her but wary of being rebuffed. She turned to Joichiro, who was eyeing Megumi with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Joichiro-senpai. My sincerest apologies…"

Joichiro looked at Erina, waving her apology away.

"It's fine, Erina-chan. Your friend needs you. We can always talk later, go ahead."

He smiled at her, the familiar yet almost forgotten gesture warming her.

"After all, I'll be here for a while."

Erina smiled at the man and nodded, before ushering Tadokoro towards the door. It was then she noticed that Sōma had already taken his leave, his exit as silent and mysterious as his sudden reappearance at Tōtsuki. She had so many questions for him, yet he'd left without so much as a single greeting or courtesy. She glared at nothing, walking alongside her friend as they left the building.

Even with the sudden change in personality, he still found ways to piss her off.

On the walk back to Polar Star, the pair found themselves passing several students, who all seemed to be rushing towards the auditorium. After passing the eighth or ninth group, Erina turned to Megumi.

"Megumi-chan, do you have any idea what's going on?"

Megumi still looked despondent, and Erina was forced to repeat her question as she gently nudged her friend, bringing her back to reality.

"Oh, sorry Erina-chan…Oh!"

Megumi's eyes widened as she slapped her cheeks, her surprise momentarily overtaking her somber mood.

"Sōma-kun mentioned to me that there would be an announcement in the main hall at 4:30. What time is it now?"

Erina took out her phone, thumbing the screen to bring up the display.

"It's 4:15. We can make it pretty easily. Should we go?"

Megumi's previous mood resurfaced and Erina found the blue haired girl dodging her gaze yet again.

"He said…he said we shouldn't miss it. He said it was definitely something Nakiri needed to see."

Erina found herself a bit unsettled by the way her friend said her name. It wasn't quite hostile, but it also wasn't said with the friendliness she'd grown accustomed to from the Hospitality chef.

"Well, alright then. Let's go. Maybe this has something to do with why I was released from the Elite Ten."

Megumi looked confused, and Erina gave her a brief rundown of what had happened in Joichiro's office. Megumi was surprised, and asked if she'd done something to warrant it, and if she thought that this had something to do with the dorm. Erina could only shrug. She had no idea why she'd been dismissed, but it didn't sit right with her. She was still the best cook in their year, and had the credentials to verify it, along with her Shokugeki record, which practically spoke for itself.

To be honest, she would be more dismayed if she wasn't so honestly confused. She just didn't know why her father would dismiss her. Was it simple, petty retaliation for her continued defiance? That didn't seem to fit. Her father always had a reason for what he did, and very rarely were those reasons based in short sighted emotional decisions. He didn't have the time to spare on such plebian pursuits of vengeance, she was sure. He hadn't even made any overtures for her to return to the Nakiri manor.

Which had struck her as more than a little odd, admittedly, but she found herself thankful for each day that passed without his interference. She was loathe to question good fortune. Everyone knew that was the quickest way to get it repealed.

They found seats near the stage, people more than willing to make space for the woman known as God's Tongue. No one questioned why she was sitting with the rest of the students, as opposed to being in one of the boxes reserved for the Elite.

As they settled in, the lights dimmed and the figure of Nakiri Azami walked on stage, poised and confident, as he always was. All chatter silenced immediately as the head of Tōtsuki took the podium and he cleared his throat gently, before stepping forward.

"Greetings treasured students. I trust you are doing well. As most of you know, I swore to turn Tōtsuki into an institution that treated every student equally. Where each and every person who was willing to listen and cooperate with the administration would come to learn how to cook on par with the students of the Elite Ten council. I promised an end to useless confrontations and needless expulsions. Anyone willing to follow the guidelines laid before them would be able to excel to new heights, regardless of where they started."

Azami extended his hands, sweeping them over the assembled crowd.

"The ideal vision I sought to create for all of you couldn't be achieved in a day. I saw that, in the widespread rebellion that was ignited by my abolition of the various research societies and seminars on our campus. Make no mistake, I meant every single word of my previous declaration, but I grew to realize that rushing would only cause more strife, more chaos. I needed to give you, the students of Tōtsuki, time to process my words. Time to enjoy the frivolities that would be sacrificed to pave the path that would allow you to truly shine, as the jewels of Tōtsuki under my guidance. So I waited."

Azami paused, staring out at the crowd, where no one dared to speak. He smiled warmly and rested his hands on the podium.

"I worked with Tōtsuki's Elite. I sat in meeting after meeting, in an effort to really learn about you, the students I'd only recently met, because I couldn't understand why you would be so vehemently against equality and universal success. And through these efforts, I realized that I needed to show you that I was speaking the truth. I needed to give all of you an example of what I was trying to lead you towards, an example that demonstrated Central's ideals and the inherent benefits of following them."

The mood in the auditorium grew tense, as people started to murmur. What could the headmaster have possibly prepared that would convince all of them to sacrifice their individuality, their very cooking spirit? It didn't seem like such a thing was possible.

As if hearing each and every whisper, Azami's smile widened and he chuckled softly.

"Your doubts are well founded, I assure you. So perhaps I'll just show you outright."

Azami turned, gesturing offstage.

A familiar figure walked onto the stage, the assembled crowd bursting into confused whispers as they watched him walk to stand beside Azami, who rested a hand on his shoulder, almost paternally.

Standing before the assembled crowd, in a crisp Tōtsuki uniform with a Central pin stuck on his lapel, was Yukihira Sōma.

Azami let the whispering continue for a few seconds, before raising his hand, a gesture that silenced the crowd almost immediately. None were fooled by their headmaster's kind veneer, and they knew that disrespecting him could get one thrown out of Tōtsuki much quicker than any Shokugeki.

"Some of you may recognize the young man before us, but for those of you who don't, I present Yukihira Sōma. Sōma was somewhat notorious throughout the school some time ago, as being the only student to transfer into Tōtsuki from outside of our illustrious middle school program in this year's freshman class. What most of you don't know, however, is that Sōma only got in due to a filing error in our system."

The students' expressions ranged from shock to anger to confusion. There were many in the crowd who now felt justified in their dislike for the arrogant transfer student, and some even laughed, while others cursed at the boy being blessed by some secretary's mistake. Others were confused, discussing the situation amongst themselves.

"He quickly found himself, underprepared for our rigorous curriculum as he was, overwhelmed and on the verge of expulsion. Was there any other fate for him? He was a boy from some insignificant diner in some insignificant town. He'd only made it this far due to the soft hearts of both our professors and the friends he'd managed to acquire in his time here."

Erina gripped her hands tightly as she watched her father speak. She was angry at him, but she found that she was even angrier at herself. She'd felt much the same way about Sōma before she'd started staying at the Polar Star Dorm, all because she'd refused to admit to herself that his baseborn cooking had actually impressed her God's Tongue. Her father's twisting of events only reminded her of how she used to be and, while she still didn't think he was as good as he pretended to be, she could see that the red headed chef more than deserved his spot at Tōtsuki. She could more than understand why her grandfather had gone over her head and accepted the young man.

The crowd spoke quietly amongst themselves, the mood primarily one of uncertainty. Hadn't this boy not only come second in the Autumn Election, but unanimously beaten the ninth seat of the Elite Ten? It was difficult to believe that, in an environment as cutthroat as Tōtsuki's, he'd been able to accomplish so much on charm alone.

"I saw an opportunity in this young man. A chance to show that the ideals of Central would work for anyone who was willing to try. I gave Sōma this chance. I told him that, in the old Tōtsuki, he would've just been expelled. But that I refused to let anyone, even someone who didn't rightly deserve to be here, get thrown away like common trash. I let him work closely with Central, using him to refine the curriculum I would one day enforce throughout the school."

Azami smiled, no joy in his expression. It was borderline mocking in its insincerity.

"I told him that, if he proved successful, he would rejoin the student body as if he'd never left as another average student. But that didn't happen."

Azami paused again. He let the silence drag on for a few seconds, eyeing each section of the crowd.

"What Sōma-kun did was beyond anything I could've ever believed. He is living proof that the ideals of Central are the future of Tōtsuki. In three short months, they've transformed a boy who was barely more than a short order cook into a chef so skilled that he found himself a seat on the Elite Ten."

Shocked gasps rang throughout the crowd.

"That's right. Students of Tōtsuki, I present before you, Yukihira Sōma. The tenth seat of the Elite Ten Council."

The shock turned into outrage, and a few students stood up, heedless of Azami's ire. He allowed the noise to build, instead stepping to the side with a smile akin to a shark eyeing scores of little fish.

Sōma stepped up to the podium, the outrage only increasing as he eyed the assembled student body with a flat stare. He tapped the mic once or twice, and leaned forward, in a distorted reflection of what he'd done almost a year ago.

He said something that couldn't be heard over the noise, so he took the mic from its stand and merely held it near one of the speakers.

The feedback was instantaneous, and a loud screech rang out.

He put the mic back into its stand and resumed staring out at the crowd, who'd been stunned into silence by the loud auditory assault.

"Greetings."

Sōma's greetings went unanswered, and he continued without pause.

"Firstly, I must apologize to all of you, students of our esteemed academy."

He bowed his head, the gesture shocking the few in the crowd that actually knew the young man. It said something that they were more surprised by something so simple than they were by the previous announcement.

"I was let into Tōtsuki due to a paperwork mishap and, instead of clearing it up, I selfishly remained here where I did not belong. I thought myself lucky and fortunate to have a chance to being among the best cooks in the world, when in reality, I just stole the place of someone who rightfully deserved it. I couldn't handle the advanced work here, and I begged my friends to help me. I dragged down their work by asking them to indulge my mediocrity, and I'm sorry to them for putting them through that."

The crowd had grown silent, transfixed by the humble, quiet figure that had replaced the fiery Yukihira Sōma that had called them all stepping stones.

"I found a second chance to do right by you all with Nakiri-sama and Central. They gave me the tools I needed to succeed, and made me, a no name cook from a no name diner, a chef that could compete with the best. I owe them everything, and I sought to repay them in full, so Nakiri-sama offered me a chance to do just that. From this moment forward, I will be acting as Central's premier enforcer."

Complete and utter silence.

"Please don't let the name influence your perception of me. It's only representative. Let me explain: Central seeks to give Tōtsuki students the best culinary education they can give. On all fronts, be they in fine dining or fast food. As you can imagine, there's simply no way to teach everyone every single cooking discipline, so we leave it to you, the students, to prove the validity of your respective specialties."

Sōma pointed out at the crowd, almost mirroring the declaration he'd made against them oh so long ago.

"Instead of dissolving all research societies and seminars outright, you will all have a chance to prove yourselves as worthy of being part of Central's core curriculum, and Tōtsuki as a whole. This will be done via Shokugeki."

The word rang out, its importance clear.

"Any and all leaders of any self-governed entities looking to remain independent will face me. This includes all Research Societies. Seminars."

Erina could've sworn he looked directly at them as he said his last sentence.

"And the Polar Star Dormitory."

Sōma paused, looking at the crowd, who seemed decidedly split. Their contempt for Sōma at war with the glowing recommendation he'd just received from the head of Tōtsuki. He swept his gaze over the crowd once, then twice. As if searching for something.

"Prove yourselves worthy of Central. Worthy of Nakiri-sama. And worthy of me. Only then will you be welcome in our new world."

Erina stared at the dark clad figure of a boy she thought she'd known. She watched as he stepped away from the podium, exiting the stage alongside her father. She listened as the dispersing crowd murmured around her, conversation flowing back and forth as people discussed the newest development with varying degrees of trepidation.

She felt her hands shake and she looked down at them. Was she…afraid? Sad? Guilty?

"Megumi-chan. What are we going to do?"

But when Erina looked up, she found the seat beside her empty. And she wondered if her friend blamed her for what happened to her best friend.

She wouldn't even have the heart to deny it. She certainly felt like it was all her fault, somehow.