"That's…that's a lot to take in, Yukihira." Said Hayama. The white haired youth had a notepad in front of him, filled to the brim with notes in his crisp, clean handwriting.

Sōma nodded, looking the paper over and mentally ticking off each item as he racked his brain to figure out whether there was anything he'd left out. He hadn't told Hayama everything but he'd told him a good bit more than he had before. Some of the finer details of his treatment under Azami, along with his relation to Kumi, were left out. Along with a few other things.

But Hayama knew a lot now. He'd needed to, if he was going to be able to relay the information Sōma needed him to convey. Sōma knew he could trust him; Hayama was unwavering in his loyalty. At least to Shiomi Jun. As long as Sōma held the keys to the seminar, he would do what he asked.

Sōma felt a part of himself rankle at the manipulative train of thought but he accepted it as a necessary precaution. This was no time to let sentiment ruin things when they were so close to fruition.

"So do you think you can do this, Hayama?" asked Sōma, standing to his feet. "I know it's a lot to ask but I think you're the right person for this."

"And thanks to what happened an hour ago, you have plausible deniability for your presence here." Said Hayama, arching an eyebrow.

Sōma grinned, chuckling.

"You were always sharp, Hayama. But that doesn't change the fact that I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't trust you completely. And don't worry; I'll handle Azami. I won't let anything happen to the seminar while I'm around."

"I appreciate that, Yukihira." Said Hayama, getting to his feet as well. He extended a hand which the red head shook promptly. "Don't worry; I'll get started on this list right away. It may cut into my prep time for the fourth task, however."

"I know; I'm truly sorry about that. Luckily, you're not going to have much of a problem with that for this particular trial." Said Sōma. He reached into his jacket, withdrawing a set of folded pages from it that he handed to Hayama. Hayama took them carefully, opening them and eyeing the contents. His eyes widened slightly as he began reading them over in earnest.

Sōma remained quiet, allowing Hayama to leaf through the pages at his leisure.

"For something so important, I wouldn't expect it to just be casually stuffed into your jacket pocket like that Yukihira." Commented Hayama.

"I was in a rush; someone had made it clear that they needed my help right away after all."

"That I did." Said Hayama, nodding. He continued reading, making notes as he went along. It was only once he'd fully read through the papers twice that he handed them back to Sōma, who pocketed them once again.

"So we have three days then." Said Hayama. "That's not a lot of time."

"It's not; which makes it even more important that you get that information to Alice, Kurokiba and the rest of Polar Star as quickly as you can." Said Sōma.

"I'll go posthaste. You have my word." Said Hayama. "Though I think it would be prudent to wait until night falls to do so; I normally wouldn't want to disturb anyone's rest but considering the amount of subterfuge we're playing with here, it's probably necessary."

"I doubt it would require that level of deception, at least on your end. Azami has little reason to suspect you're anything but a member of Central, albeit a somewhat unwilling one." Pointed out Sōma.

"Hideki-san's arrival with that construction crew doesn't exactly fit that particular narrative though, Yukihira."

Sōma paused as he considered. That was true. Hayama hadn't done anything untoward in the several weeks since his loss to Sōma and the absorption of the Shiomi seminar into Central. On paper, there was absolutely no reason for Azami to shut it down. They'd performed their duties as usual, supplying exotic spices to both Tōtsuki itself and those that could afford to purchase them directly from the seminar. The Shiomi seminar, while not as flashy or large as some of the other sections of Tōtsuki, more than paid for its upkeep.

Something wasn't right.

But for the life of him, Sōma couldn't figure out what that was. And that worried him; Azami was a dangerous enough opponent when he knew what the man wanted. But to move forward with something as unprecedented and random as this…all without consulting Sōma, his loyal right hand.

No. Something definitely wasn't right.

Sōma pulled out his phone, dialing rapidly on it.

"Silence, Hayama." He ordered, his eyes cooling as he wrapped himself in the persona that he knew Azami would be expecting. He listened to the phone ring, waiting for the line to connect and for that dangerously pleasant, cool voice to resound in his ear.

Several rings passed before Sōma heard a click and an automated tone. He'd been sent to Azami's voicemail. The businessman didn't bother with personalizing it, choosing to leave the stock recording in place.

"Greetings, Azami-sama. I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience. I trust that Hideki-san has already informed you of our meeting at the Shiomi seminar; I do not doubt your decision making but I do feel that there are variables present with this situation that bear discussion."

Sōma hung up the phone, disquieted by the lack of response. It was rare for the headmaster to not answer; few had his personal cell phone number and those few were usually people worth responding to.

"By your expression, I take it that it's not a good sign that he didn't pick up?" asked Hayama.

"Not particularly, no." said Sōma. "I have to go. There's work for me to do. I will see you at the trial, Hayama-kun."

"I understand; best of luck, Yukihira."

"Same to you."

Sōma arrived back at the gates of the Nakiri mansion to find an unexpected visitor standing at them, blocking entry. She had her back turned to him and didn't turn, even as Sōma pulled up right next to her, turning his moped off with a touch.

"Tadokoro-san, good evening. Is there something I can help you with?"

Megumi didn't turn to face Sōma. She continue staring up at the large wrought iron gates. Eventually, she spoke, still facing away from Sōma.

"Is Erina-chan here, Sōma-kun?" she asked.

Sōma opened his mouth to respond but realized that he honestly didn't know. In hindsight, it was obvious that Azami would not permit Erina to return to the Polar Star dormitory. But he had no idea where she was; at the end of the third task, she'd been escorted away by members of Azami's security team, at her instruction. Sōma had inquired after her but Azami had assured him that there was no need for him to know and he had been unable to ask further without raising suspicion.

He wondered how to respond to Megumi but his silence seemed to have been answer enough.

Megumi sighed, shaking her head.

"I figured as much. More importantly…"

Megumi turned to face Sōma and the expression on her face made Sōma flinch internally, though the mask he wore on the surface didn't budge.

Megumi's eyes were red; her face was dry now but it was clear that she'd been crying. A lot.

"What happened to Erina-chan, Sōma-kun?" she asked.

"Tadokoro-san. I do not believe it is my place to divulge private family matters to-"

"No!"

The aggressiveness of Megumi's response surprised Sōma.

Megumi balled her fists up at her side, her shoulders shaking.

"That's…that's….that's bullshit!"

Sōma blinked, only barely resisting the urge to let his jaw hang in surprise as Megumi stepped towards him, grabbing him roughly by the lapels of his uniform jacket.

"I'm sick of this, Sōma-kun! I'm sick of all of the secrecy and the lies! I'm sick of losing people I care about to…to that horrible, horrible man!"

Megumi's eyes welled up with tears again but she only gripped Sōma's jacket even tighter.

"You once talked to me about family, Sōma-kun. Not people you just happened to be related to by blood but people you loved and cherished and cared for. And who felt the same about you in return. Erina-chan is my family, Sōma-kun. More than she ever was to that…that selfish monster! And I will stop at nothing to get her back, Sōma-kun! Do you hear me?!"

Megumi released Sōma's jacket, causing him to almost stumble back before catching himself. Megumi was panting, holding her hands to her chest as tears began to fall in earnest.

"Please…please if there's anything of you left in there Sōma-kun, anything at all…help me. Please. I'll do anything. I'll join Central; I'll fight a hundred shokugekis; I don't care what it is!"

"Tadokoro-san. Please. Control yourself." Said Sōma calmly, feeling his heart begin to race in his chest at seeing his friend in such distress. He yearned to reach out and hold her but he was conscious of the three security cameras placed along the top of the gate. He couldn't react to this; he couldn't afford to. "You are making a scene. Please calm down so that we can continue this discussion at a more appropriate time and place."

Megumi let out a broken laugh, covering her mouth as tears began to flow in earnest down her face.

"Sōma-kun…please. I'm…I'm begging you."

"Tadokoro-san…I'm unable to have this discussion with you." Said Sōma, mentally praying that Hayama made Megumi one of his first stops. He hated deceiving her. It made him feel almost physically ill.

At his words, Megumi sobbed, covering her mouth with one hand.

"This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here. You don't even care. You just keep staring at me with those empty eyes."

At least that meant his disguise was holding up well. If someone as in touch with people as Megumi was fooled, then someone as emotionally disconnected as Azami was almost certainly fooled as well.

The burst of satisfaction he got at the thought caused another wave of guilt to crash over Sōma. He needed the ability to lie this effectively but that didn't mean he liked that he needed it. As always, none of the internal conflict showed on his face. He simply nodded.

"My apologies, Tadokoro-san. I wish you the best in resolving this situation as best you can for yourself."

Megumi let out another broken sob and turned, running down the driveway and away from Sōma. He watched her go, feeling the tightness in his chest throb with each beat of his heart as he watched one of his dearest friends flee from his presence. He felt the hand in his pocket clench reflexively and he allowed himself the small gesture until she'd gotten fully out of sight.

He then took a deep breath and turned to enter the mansion's gates. As he wheeled his moped inside, he couldn't help wondering.

Where was Erina?

Erina stared listlessly out of the window, watching the city below her. Tokyo was a large, bustling metropolis and Erina watched as the city teemed with life below her. From this height, cars looked like beetles and people looked like ants. It made the city resemble one large, multifaceted organism as opposed to millions of people with their own goals and dreams.

Erina placed her hand on the glass, the material cool to the touch.

Each little dot down there was a person; an individual. A man or woman or child filled with life and purpose.

She didn't know why…but she wanted to join them. She wanted to go down and be among them; to walk away from this lavish hotel suite and away from…

A fog descended over Erina's mind and she pulled her hand away from the glass, placing it into her lap.

Perhaps she could convince Otou-sama to take her for a walk; he'd been very clear that she was not to leave the room without his permission.

Erina looked around at her surroundings; at the large, four poster bed and richly decorated walls. Paintings by famous artists hung about the room; each one probably worth more than the average person made in a year. The deep red curtains were thick and silky; their edges crisp and free of any wrinkle or stain. The loveseat she was perched on sat at the base of a large, expansive pane of glass, more mosaic than window, its glass inlaid with fine, gold accents.

Erina appreciated the decadence of her surroundings; it was what she deserved. She was the scion of the Nakiri household; the one set to inherit the keys to a dynasty that was almost as wealthy and expansive as that of the actual Japanese royal family. Her place was at the top of an immeasurably high pedestal; standing beside her father and above all others. This place was fitting. Appropriate. Part and parcel of the lifestyle she wan-needed. Yes, needed.

And yet…she found her dreams plagued, night after night. They weren't bad dreams; not that she could tell. There were no terrifying monsters or crippling fears. There was light, laughter, joy. Walls with faded, yellow paint and scuffs aplenty surrounding simple furniture. A yard filled with vegetables, obviously grown by loving hand. People…people she knew. People she recognized.

Ibusaki Shun. 1st year. Smoking specialist. Placed 5th in Block A of the Autumn Elections. Enjoys reading the shōjo manga If Only You Were Mine.

Yoshino Yuki. 1st year. Has an affinity for wild game dishes. Placed 7th in Block B. Has decided she'll never use Buta-chan in a dish, no matter how plump he gets.

Sakaki Ryoko. 1st year. Skilled with fermentation techniques. Placed 7th in Block A. Is fearful of not living up to her family's prestigious lineage and feels pressure because she's the oldest child and her father is very sick.

Zenji Marui. 1st year. Unparalleled knowledge of cooking. Placed 5th in Block A of the Autumn Elections. Knows exactly the kind of shampoo that works best with Erina's hair due to his mom forcing him to watch beauty shows with her.

Isshiki Satoshi. 2nd year. Former seventh seat of the Elite Ten Council. Possibly the best cook in his year. Enjoys working in the yard in nothing but a fundoshi. Has conducted classes with Erina at the DEF kitchen.

She knew these people. She could give detailed backgrounds on all of them; they were classmates in her year after all. But in these dreams…they seemed like more. They felt like more. Especially…

Tadokoro Megumi….Megumi-chan.

Erina felt the fog descend over her head and she gasped, reaching forward.

MEGUMI-CHAN!

Her hand fell into her lap and Erina blinked, languidly. She felt strange. As if she'd just woken up, even though she'd been awake for hours upon end. She'd looked through the documents her father had provided her several times but chose to do so again. She told herself she was doing it to be familiar with the information. After all, these tastings were important. It would be the first tasting she'd done since…since…

Since her leave of absence. That's what her father called it. He told her that he'd seen fit to give her a break; free time from the pressures of being the Nakiri heiress. He said she'd enjoyed it and said it was quite fun but that she was ready to return.

Erina had nodded and agreed with her father. Because that was what she was supposed to do. Even though she felt that something wasn't right; even though her memories of her life were in a chaotic disarray.

When it came to facts; figures; information, she was perfectly fine. She could easily recite paragraphs of English flawlessly or do algebraic equations that she'd learnt just a few weeks ago in her math class. She could recite to her father what she'd had for lunch a month and a half ago; down to the very crumb. She could recall current events and news stories; a new Japanese space mission had been announced. It had been all over the news just last week.

But when she tried to grasp for anything beyond that; any sort of emotion or feeling attached to those things, she floundered. She recalled standing at her father's side and feeling happy as he announced to the class that she would be a judge for the third task. She remembered feeling confused at the odd redheaded boy's words. She remembered how pleased it made her to hear her father tell her he was proud of her as he sent her off with her security escort.

But she couldn't remember anything else. She couldn't remember anything she'd felt before she'd woken up in her chair in that classroom before the third trial for the Elite Ten. She couldn't summon any sort of emotional connection to anything before that time. Not a coherent one anyway.

Her father had asked her in the hotel room later that night how she was feeling. And she told him she was feeling fine. Because she was. She did feel fine. Because she knew that her father wanted her to feel fine and she couldn't disappoint him. He'd done so much for her; he'd let their clients wait months while she was on her vacation just because he cared.

No, she couldn't worry him about this. He was busy enough as it was; she didn't want to waste his time.

But…but her father had also asked her to be honest with him. He'd made her promise to never lie to him.

No. She wasn't lying; she did feel fine. Yes. Yes she did.

She could handle this; whatever this was.

But maybe…maybe getting some answers wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Perhaps that odd boy would be able to help her. Yukihira Sōma. He was one of her father's most loyal advisors and one of the best students at Tōtsuki, both in grades and cooking prowess. And he'd already shown himself to be quite knowledgeable and firmly on her side. Azami's side.

Yes. She could ask him.

Erina reached for her cellphone but then remembered giving it to her father at the conclusion of the third task.

I want you to be focused, Erina. Cellphones are a distraction. Wouldn't you agree?

Did she remember Yukihira Sōma's number? She thought hard, sifting through the information in her mind but nothing came to mind. Perhaps there was some other way to find his contact information. She didn't have a computer or anything similar but perhaps…

Erina got to her feet, striding swiftly over to the table and picking up the phone. She hit a single key and then waited. After a few rings, a friendly voice picked up.

"Greetings, Nakiri-san. You've reached Room Service. How can we help?"

"Hello. I need you to find someone for me."

There was a pause.

"Excuse me but can you clarify exactly what you need, Nakiri-san? I'll be more than happy to assist! I simply don't understand exactly what you're asking of me."

"There's someone I would like to speak to on the phone. But I don't have their number. My father told me to call you if I needed anything while he was out…"

"Ah, I understand! One moment please; I'll transfer you to Operating Services. They will be able to direct your call!"

One short hold period later and another voice, just as professional and friendly came onto the line.

"Greetings Nakiri-san, I'd be more than happy to help you! Is the person you're trying to contact listed in the phone book?" asked the cheerful voice.

"I…I'm not completely certain." Said Erina. She didn't mention that she wasn't even entirely sure what a phone book was.

"Well, that's no trouble! Let's start with a name then! May I have their first and last name?"

"Yukihira Sōma." She supplied.

"Alrighty then, just one second."

She heard several clicking and tapping noises, reminiscent of a keyboard. She'd expected to hear pages flipping; why would he ask about a book and then not consult one? She didn't understand but chose to remain silent; she had more important questions.

"Ok, nothing for Yukihira Sōma but I do have a listing here for a Yukihira Sumi. Perhaps there's some relation?"

"Perhaps." Said Erina, uncertain. She knew nothing about Sōma's family beyond his father. And his mother had passed away years ago. Her name was…Kumi. Yukihira Kumi.

"Would you like me to connect you?"

Sumi. Kumi. Sōma.

The similarity seemed too stark to be simple coincidence.

"Yes, please."

The old man sat in seiza before a low coffee table. He had silver hair that was arrayed in spikes around his head, still upright despite his age. Thick, gray eyebrows sat above sharp green eyes that glared at the steaming cup of tea before them. His hands were folded in the sleeves of the simple yukata he wore and he hummed, the noise low and almost threatening.

The young man seated across from him was sitting ramrod straight, his shoulders held upright. His white gi was scuffed and worn, though clean. If you looked closely, you could see the tremble that ran directly up his spine straight to the back of his head as the old man picked up the cup and placed it to his lips.

Blowing gently, the old man took a sip and then sighed, resting the cup back on the table.

"Yu-kun…"

The young man gulped.

"Yes, sensei?"

Like lightning, the old man lashed out, his hand coming forward and striking the young man directly on the forehead. The noise it made was audible and the young man flinched, doing his best to not cry out or reach up to clutch his head. He'd been struck more than once for moving during any of his teacher's chastisement.

"Again." Commanded the old man.

"Yes sensei! Right away!"

Bowing, the young man got to his feet, taking the cup away and almost sprinting through the open sliding door and out of the room.

The old man sighed and got to his feet but before he got far, the phone hanging on the wall nearby rang. He moved over to it, picking it up from the receiver. Clearing his throat noisily, he spoke.

"Yukihira Dojo, how can I help you?"

The voice of a young woman responded.

"Good day; I'm looking for Yukihira Sumi."

One of the old man's eyebrows arched, surprised. That was a name he hadn't heard in years and yet he still felt a pang in his chest at the mention of it.

"Well, I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm Yukihira Kinsei. Sumi was my wife and she passed away some time ago. Almost twenty eight years now, actually."

"Oh. I see. My sincerest condolences." said the unknown young lady.

"To be frank, you don't sound sincere at all." Said Kinsei.

"I…I beg your pardon?"

It was her voice. Kinsei could tell he was speaking to a young lady, not quite a woman but not a child either. But her voice sounded wrong. It sounded cold and distant; detached. But not in a stuck up, snobby sense, as if the girl was just another spoiled brat that only cared for herself.

She sounded like she didn't care about anything; herself included. There were answering machine recordings that had more life than her voice did. Mechanical didn't do it justice. More than that, the voice seemed familiar somewhat. Not the girl; he was sure he'd never spoken to her in his life. But her manner of speech; the complete lack of inflection and tone. It reminded him of something.

"Nothing." Said Kinsei, shaking his head. It wasn't any of his business. "Regardless, my wife isn't here. Is there something you needed? I doubt you were a friend of hers; you're much too young to have even met her."

"You're right. I did not know Yukihira Sumi. I'm searching for someone and I'd hoped that she would be able to put me in contact with them; this number is listed under her name."

"Ah, I see." Said Kinsei, rubbing his chin. That made sense. He'd never bothered to submit the paperwork after her passing to the phone company so it made sense that the number would still be listed under her name. "So who're you looking for, missy?"

"A boy by the name of Yukihira Sōma. He's a classmate of mine."

"Ah, Soso-chan." Said the older man, grinning. "That's my grandson. So you're one of those hotshots from that fancy cooking school huh?"

"Yes." Said the girl.

"That's wonderful; I've heard some pretty crazy stories from Joichiro-kun about that place. Good on you for sticking it out there."

"Thank you, Yukihira-san." Said the girl. The thanks, as with most of what she said, was hollow but Kinsei didn't pay it any mind. Maybe the girl was having a rough day.

"Let me see if I can find his number for ya; I've got it written down here somewhere."

He searched in the drawer below the phone, sifting through the myriad of knick knacks within for the pocket book that he used for phone numbers. His grandchildren had badgered him more than once about getting a mobile phone but he rejected the idea; pen and paper was just fine for him.

"So what's your name, girly?" he asked, finally seizing the little blue book from where it sat under a box of matches and a half empty pack of paper clips. He began thumbing through it, searching for the page affectionately marked "Grand babys"

"Nakiri Erina."

Kinsei's fingers stilled. The smile fell from his face as he instantly recalled just where he'd heard such a voice before. From someone else, almost ten years ago. From another Nakiri.

"Ah…can you repeat that? My hearing's not what it used to be." He said, his voice much less jovial than it was.

"My name is Nakiri Erina." She said.

"Oh…I see." Said Kinsei. "Can you give me a sec, Erina-chan? I'll give Soso-chan a call myself for you and then just bring you in onto the next line with my three way calling."

"What's three way calling?" she asked.

Kinsei resisted the urge to be the cliché old man that complained about the ignorance of kids these days and simply said "Never you mind, I'll be right back. Don't hang up, ok?"

He clicked over to the next line, punching in a number that he'd long memorized. After all, he spent enough time on the phone talking to his precious granddaughter. After a few rings, the phone was answered.

"Good afternoon, ojii-chan."

"Kumi-kun!" he responded, smiling. "How's my favorite granddaughter?"

The annoyed huff he got from the other line only made him smile more.

"I'm your only granddaughter, ojii-chan. I'm the favorite by default."

"Still my favorite." He responded cheekily. "Now, admonish me later. This is important. Is your mother around?"

"Kaa-chan? Yes. She's in the living room. Would you like to speak with her?"

"Yes, I would. Tell her it's urgent." Said Kinsei. He heard the phone being set down and the distant sound of Kumi calling her mother. He waited until he heard the rustle that accompanied the phone being picked up and then he hit the flashing button on his phone before ending the call.

He placed the phone back onto the receiver and stared at it briefly, wondering if he'd made the right decision. Wondering if it had even been his decision to make.

The old man shrugged, returning to his seat at his table.

It was done now. Joichiro would probably yell at him once he found out about it. But he knew he wouldn't be losing any sleep over having a small hand in reconnecting a mother with her daughter.

"Hi, Ojiisan. Kumi said you needed to speak with me?" said Katsumi. She expected to hear the warm, if somewhat stern tone of Joichiro's father in law but instead heard something completely different.

"My apologies; I am not Kinsei-san."

It was the voice of a girl. Probably a teenager if Katsumi had to guess. But she wasn't entirely sure; the voice was so cool and stoic. It didn't sound like the voice of a child; at least not the way a child should sound anyway. Perhaps it was the phone line; if she had been connected to them through the Yukihira dojo, then the connection couldn't be that good. They lived in Niigata, after all, and the dojo was on the outskirts of Kyoto.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought my father-in-law was on the phone. I suppose my daughter got things mixed up. Did you need something young lady?" asked Katsumi.

"Yes. I'm looking for someone. Kinsei-san told me that he was dialing them on the phone for me though I confess I'm not certain how he planned to connect us."

"Three way calling, most likely." Said Katsumi, rolling her eyes. "That old man is fond of technology from a bygone era; he'll take any excuse to use it. Be that as it may, were you looking for Kumi-chan perhaps? Are you one of her friends from school?"

"No. I was looking for someone else."

"At this address?" asked Katsumi, perplexed.

"I'm not sure." She responded.

"Well, it's just me and my daughter here, though her father visits from time to time. Were you looking for him, by chance?" She said.

"No, I'm not. I suppose this is the wrong address then. I'm sorry for troubling you." Said the young woman.

"It was no trouble at all. Have a nice day…"

It then occurred to Katsumi that she didn't even know the girl's name.

"Ah, I'm so sorry for being so impolite. My name's Yukihira Mitsuka. What's yours?" she asked.

"Nakiri Erina."

Katsumi froze. Her entire body went rigid and it was only thanks to the support of the wall that served as the phone's resting place that she didn't fall to the floor completely. She fell to her knees, holding the phone receiver to her ear. Tightly. Painfully, even.

"Are you still there Yukihira-san?" asked Erina.

Katsumi swallowed, her free hand finding its way to her chest where she felt her heart beginning to thump at a speed that didn't even seem possible. She felt a pounding in her ears with each beat, almost completely drowning out the noise of the outside world. She licked her lips, responding breathily.

"Erina…?" she whispered.

"Yes. My name is Nakiri Erina. I'm a classmate of Yukihira Sōma's and I'd hoped to find him at this address." She said.

Katsumi barely heard her. She simply listened to the voice of the girl – her daughter – coming through the receiver.

"Erina…sweetie…"

Katsumi felt tears, unbidden, begin to flow from her eyes and fall onto her skirt. She made no move to wipe them away.

"Erina, honey. It's…it's me."

There was a pause from the other end of the line.

"Yukihira-san, are you alright?" asked the girl. Her empty tone only proceeded to make Katsumi sob, a hand going to cover her mouth. She'd heard from Joichiro what had happened; he'd told her everything even though he'd warned her several times that she wouldn't like what she heard. She'd cried for the rest of the night, sobbing into her pillow as she thought of her eldest daughter.

But to hear her voice...to hear her voice after ten long years. And to hear it like…like that. So devoid of life. So, so like hers was, all those years ago…

It broke her heart all over again.

"Yukihira-san. You do not sound well. Perhaps I should allow you to go and…"

"NO!"

The half strangled cry burst from her lips. Katsumi clutched the receiver with both hands, as if trying to keep Erina on the line through sheer force of will.

"Please. No. Just…stay. Don't go. Not yet."

"I do not understand. Is something wrong?" Said Erina, the confusion in her voice the first clear emotion she'd shown throughout the entire conversation.

"Erina…I'm…You don't recognize me?" she asked.

"My sincerest apologies but I do not recognize your voice, no. Have we met in the past?" she asked.

Katsumi opened her mouth. Words ready to spill from her lips. But she heard a voice behind her.

"Kaa-chan, is everything alright?"

Katsumi wiped at her eyes, looking over her shoulder at Kumi and smiling hastily.

"Everything's fine dear, I just slipped. Nothing to worry about."

The flat stare Kumi gave her showed that she didn't believe the paper thin excuse but she simply huffed, exiting the room once again.

Katsumi returned her attention to the receiver.

"Erina. Are you still there?" she asked, trying and failing to hide the desperation in her tone.

"Yes, I am."

Katsumi smiled, happy despite the pain it caused her to hear her eldest child so…so cold. So like her father.

"Good. Good, sweetie. Listen to me. I'm…"

The words stilled in her throat. What could she say? What should she say? The smart thing to say would be nothing. She should simply apologize and wish Erina a good day and hang up the phone. She clearly had no idea who she was.

This was dangerous. She knew that; it's why she'd left in the first place. It's why she hadn't had any contact with her daughter, despite pestering Joichiro for updates on her and her condition every time he visited, even before he'd started teaching at Tōtsuki.

She'd thirsted for every little bit of information he could give her. Who were her friends? Was she eating well? Was she happy? Was she sad? Was she dating anyone? Was she a good student? How long was her hair now?

Joichiro had grown exasperated with her more than once but he'd never failed to answer or find out the answer to any of her questions; no matter how small or meaningless. He'd seen the way it made her light up to learn about her daughter, even if it was from afar.

Katsumi had struggled with keeping her distance; she'd picked up the phone over a hundred times and contemplated calling Erina. She didn't have her phone number, Joichiro wouldn't give it to her, but she could've found a way. She knew she could've.

And when she'd moved to Polar Star…when Joichiro had come, just a few weeks after she'd officially moved in, and regaled her with how happy she was; how much fun she was having, Katsumi had been unable to resist. In the dead of night, she'd snuck into the living room and called the dormitory. She'd expected a directory. Instead she'd gotten the cranky, tired voice of Daimido Fumio.

She'd quietly explained that she was Erina's mother and that she wanted to speak to her daughter.

Fumio hadn't believed her and so she'd gone on to give the woman details. And details. And even more details. The more she spoke, the more swept up she got in her emotions until, before she knew it, she'd given Fumio the full story; the story known only to a select few for fear of what would happen if word ever managed to reach Azami's ears.

Katsumi begged for Fumio's silence and Fumio had assured her that hers was not the first tragic tale she'd taken in confidence. She'd raised dozens of teenage girls in her time as the Polar Star Maria. She wouldn't tell a soul. But, before she went and awoke Erina and brought her to the phone, she had one thing to say to Katsumi.

Katsumi-san…speaking as both a woman and a mother, I would like to ask you one question. If you speak to Erina-chii right now. If you hear her voice and listen to her words, be they happy or sad or angry…do you think you'll be able to keep yourself from running straight back to her?

Fumio went to get Erina, claiming a food critic from America was on the phone for her. But by the time they arrived to the phone, it was to a dead line.

Hanging up then had been one of the hardest things Katsumi had ever done. And right now, in this moment, she knew it had been the smart thing to do. Because Fumio was right. Hearing Erina's voice…even this cold, empty version of it…it touched every single part of Katsumi's heart and she felt the words spilling from inside of it, no matter how her brain tried to stem the tide.

"It's me Erina-chan. It's your mother. Nakiri Katsumi. I'm here baby. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry for leaving you all of those years ago. I love you; I love you so much! I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now, I know you're probably still furious at me and you deserve to be!"

Katsumi's tears came anew as she thought of the turmoil she'd caused her daughter; as she thought of the cold fury that Sōma had told her he'd received when he so much as said her name.

"You have every right to be mad. But I'm here now baby, and I promise. We're going to save you, Erina. We're going to get you away from that terrible, terrible wretch of a man! Just wait a little longer, please. I swear. I love you so much. I love you so, so much, do you hear me! I've missed you every single day for the last ten years."

Katsumi sobbed, continuing to speak through her tears as she wiped her eyes with one hand.

"I wish I was there with you right now; I wish I could hold you in my arms and tell you everything is going to be okay. I wish I could tell you every single thing I've been wanting to tell you since the last time I saw you. And I will! Oh I swear I will. And I don't care if you hate me for the rest of your life, I am never leaving you alone again, do you hear me Erina? Never!"

By the end, Katsumi had almost been shouting. She panted as she tried to catch her breath, holding the phone to her ear. She heard a slight shuffling noise; movement. She could practically see her daughter on the other end of the line. Even in her current state, she was probably stunned and left speechless by her sudden tirade. She was probably staring at the phone at a loss for words. Katsumi tried to be patient but the continued silence quickly became too much for her to bear.

"Erina?" she said.

There was a pause. And then a response.

"I'm afraid my daughter is unable to come to the phone right now."

The cool, measured male voice sent a shot of ice straight into Katsumi's stomach. Her vision blurred as she heard the one person she'd hoped to never speak to again for as long as she lived. Her head swam as she leaned against the wall, gasping for breath as she heard something else.

The chime of a bell.

"It's very convenient that these rooms come equipped with these little service bells. I'd worried at my ability to find one but your little speech gave me ample time to. I came in at the part where you described me as a 'wretch of a man' or something to that effect."

Azami's tone was light, almost jovial, as if Katsumi's words were nothing but a joke.

The bell chimed again and Katsumi felt herself stumble against the wall, her legs giving out completely as she fell to the floor. The receiver was still clutched in a death grip to her ear and she was unable to move it away, no matter how she tried. It was as if the ice that was slowly beginning to fill her mind had the phone held fast to her ear.

"I used simple hand noises with Erina and Sōma-kun; much simpler and accessible than finding some device to act as their trigger accessory. I learnt that from my time spent with you, Katsumi. It was quite unseemly having to cart a bell around in my pocket everywhere we went."

The bell chimed a third time and Katsumi stilled, her lilac eyes glazing over.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Katsumi. It's been too long."

Azami's tone was soft. It could almost be mistaken for sweet. If you'd never heard an actual human being try to be sweet, that is.

"Ursprünglich."

A/N: Bit of a short chapter this week but I didn't want to get into anything else after what I felt was a very appropriate time to end the chapter. Please read, review and let me know what you think of this particular development! I've been waiting to spring this on you guys for ages. Posting a bit early just cuz!