To say the cheering was loud would've been doing it a disservice. The swell of cheering and applause that occurred as four of the most skilled students of the 92nd Generation began working was nothing short of massive.

Megumi moved first; pulling a bag from under their station and taking its contents out one at a time and laying them out. Among the things dispensed were an oddly shaped root that she cut into small pieces before grinding it up with a mortar and pestle. Erina reached under the table as well, surfacing with a large cooler that she opened, reaching inside and pulling out large, pink slabs of meat.

"As is expected, our contestants waste no time in getting started! Once again, there's no specific theme for this particular shokugeki. This will be a test of raw, unrestrained cooking might! It seems Erina is going to take up preparing the meat, at least initially. What kind of meat is that, I wonder? It looks like chicken but seems slightly different." asked Urara, squinting at what the Nakiri heiress held.

"It's duck meat." said Shinomiya, doing nothing to hide his look of contempt towards the commentator. "It's a more exotic fowl than, say, chicken but it's still a rather common sight in the kitchen, as you should well know."

"Of course, of course…" said Urara, although her smile looked a little brittle in the face of Shinomiya's rebuke. Eager to make up for her failure, she turned to Sōma's station and found that the meat he was holding was a lot more identifiable by its shape.

"It appears Sōma-kun is going to be utilizing crab meat in his dish! Crab is a very popular choice in a variety of cuisines. Its soft, delicate taste…"

Whatever Urara was about to say died in her throat as she realized that the crab Sōma held, while soft and white, was still very much alive. The red headed chef held it gently, almost fondly, by the back of its shell (or lack thereof), staring at it for a brief moment before placing it onto the cutting board.

As he picked up a set of kitchen shears, Urara realized what he was going to do and she resisted the urge to turn away and cringe, feeling more than seeing the look of scorn that Shinomiya would undoubtedly give her.

"The crab meat that Sōma-kun's going to be utilizing is known as soft shell. This particular type of crab is a popular choice in the kitchen as, having recently molted, most of the crab's body is edible and can be used in the dish."

Urara gulped as Soma adjusted his grip on the crab, bringing the shears closer to it, despite the scrabbling of its legs.

"And ah, well…crab meat, as with most shell fish, is very susceptible to decomposition. So it's best to acquire your crabs as soon as possible before cooking. And of course what's fresher than live…live…"

Sōma squeezed and the shears closed, slicing effortlessly through the crab's 'face'. Urara stopped speaking again and turned away, looking just the slightest shade of green. There was a reason she didn't like cooking with seafood! Even dead fish would just stare at you…accusation in their cold, cold eyes…

"Hey. Girl."

Urara looked up at Shinomiya who was eyeing her with an inscrutable look.

"What's your name?"

"Um…Kawashima Urara, Shinomiya-senpai."

"I see. Kawashima Urara. You are expelled."

Urara paled, looking at Shinomiya in disbelief and her mouth dropped open in shock. As she started to process just what Shinomiya had said, she immediately began stammering excuses, her arms waving frantically as she tried to justify her behavior to the unsympathetic chef.

"Shinomiya. Stop terrifying the poor little freshman."

Dojima Gin glanced over at his fellow alumnus who looked back, an angry vein pulsing in his head. Gin looked over at Urara, who still looked terrified, although she'd stopped speaking in lieu of looking at Gin with desperate hope.

"Kawashima-san. Please relax yourself. I assure you that neither I nor Shinomiya have that sort of power here. Not today, anyway."

Urara gave a big sigh of relief that echoed across the speakers, causing her to blush and look around at the crowd, who were much too busy watching the chefs below them than to worry about her need to appear perfect and unflappable. She turned back to said chefs to find that Sōma had already finished cleaning his crabs and had proceeded with seasoning them.

Meanwhile Alice was holding a small bowl, in which she was combining several different things; sugar, lemon juice and rice vinegar among them. Every so often, using a small spoon, she would sample the mixture before shaking her head and adding something else to it. After a few iterations, she was finally satisfied and set the bowl to the side before moving onto a collection of vegetables she'd laid out previously.

"Interesting…"

Gin glanced over at Shinomiya who was eyeing the small bowl with interest.

"She's using a gastrique. It's a flavoring for sauces, specifically for those meant for use with meat. It's essentially just caramelized sugar and vinegar but it's that very simplicity that allows it to be very flexible. Not only can you use it to enhance your dish's flavor; you can also customize the gastrique itself so that it can stand on its own as a unique part of your dish's appeal. It can have significant impact on the visual aesthetics of your dish as well."

Gin nodded, looking at the innocuous bowl. A simple tool, to be sure, but it is the simplest tools that can have the most devastating effects in the hands of the truly skilled.

"And we see Tadokoro-chan is now combining the root she grounded with fish sauce and an assortment of spices to create what looks like a marinade!"

Megumi was doing just that; she placed the ground root and fish sauce together, stirring them briskly while sprinkling in dashes of powder. After a cursory inspection, Megumi nodded to herself before pulling a small container from the chill box beside her. Opening the jar, she spooned a healthy dollop of the white creamy substance into the mixture before stirring the contents of the bowl again, the consistency of the marinade thickening.

Megumi turned to face Erina, her hand outstretched.

"Erina-chan!"

Like clockwork, Erina turned and tossed something at Megumi before turning back, unconcerned. The audience gasped as whatever it was flew towards Megumi, barely seen as more than a blur of pink. Megumi's eyes tracked upwards, her hand moving to easily snag the duck foreleg from the air before dropping it into her marinade bowl.

Working it over gently, Megumi kneaded the marinade mixture into the duck before nodding to herself.

"Erina-chan!"

Another throw. Another catch. Another round of kneading, followed by another nod and another cry of 'Erina-chan!' The girls repeated the pattern a few more times before stopping; Megumi's bowl now filled with duck legs, thoroughly coated in the marinade.

"Is that enough, Megumi-chan?"

Megumi smiled happily and voiced her assent. She looked down at the bowl before moving to place it into the fridge.

"Actually, hold on a moment Megumi-chan."

Erina walked over and took the bowl from Megumi's hands. She looked down into it, as if appraising the meat, before setting it down onto the counter. She stepped back and gave the bowl a short bow.

"Arigato gozaimasu Mizu-chan. Kiri-chan. You won't be forgotten."

Her words were barely a whisper but Megumi caught them and she smiled, mentally thanking Yuki as well. It was she who'd provided the ducks for them to use. Through the tears in her eyes, she had asked Erina and Megumi to do their best to ensure that the two birds' sacrifices weren't in vain.

Erina took the bowl up once again, covering it and placing it into the small fridge beneath their station.

"The Polar Star team will be chilling their meat! A prudent tactic, as the cold temperatures and time spent soaking will give the duck meat time to absorb the juices that Megumi-chan has already lathered onto it." commented Urara helpfully. Nothing was said about the oddity that was the Nakiri heiress bowing to a bowl of meat. She was the princess of Tōtsuki. She could do whatever she liked during a Shokugeki and no one would question her methods.

"Eh, that was pretty weird. Don't you think, Tsukasa?"

Almost no one, anyway.

Rindō leaned back in her seat, more reclining than sitting. She peered curiously over the top of the large sunglasses she wore before pulling them back into place. She glanced to her side when she noticed she was receiving no response and elbowed the first seat that sat beside her, who jumped at the sensation, pulling his attention from the papers in his lap.

"I'm sorry, what was that Rindō?"

Rindō rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to wince as the movement stressed the bruise she was nursing on her left eye. That Nakiri girl had a mean right hook for all that she seemed like a dainty, little slip of a girl.

"I said that was pretty weird. Erina-chan just bowed to a bowl of seasoned meat. That's pretty odd, huh?"

Tsukasa looked down at the arena before looking back at his friend.

"Not particularly. You should be thankful for the creatures that give their lives for your dish, Rindō-chan."

Rindō scoffed, scratching at the band aid on her cheek as she gave Tsukasa a flat stare.

"I forgot; you were all weird about that sort of thing."

"There's nothing wrong with appreciating those that fall in my pursuit to cooking excellence, Rindō."

"So you're equating the animals that die for your meat to the classmates we've expelled over the years?"

Tsukasa's overly serious nod would've made Rindō face palm rather hard if she wasn't aware that her face wasn't in the best shape for that, no matter her exasperation.

"…Just go back to signing your forms."

Down in the arena, Erina had started chopping vegetables. Onions, garlic cloves and lemongrass fell to her knife, her technique more art than anything else. With a flick of her wrist, the cutting board rotated ninety degrees and her blade came down, cutting the vegetables into even finer pieces. Another rotation and she did the same, the vegetables falling into even smaller bits before her knife work. Megumi was dicing potatoes; the spuds splitting into large chunks that Megumi then began seasoning.

Across the stage, Alice began combining several vegetables in a large bowl, her knife work on par with Erina's, although her strokes were more about broad divides as opposed to fine shredding. Slowly but surely, the makings of a salad began forming in her bowl. The large, green swaths of cabbage were accented by the bright multicolored tones of the peppers that had been cored, sliced and placed within.

Sōma had moved from the crabs, which were now cleaned and pruned into husks of soft, decadent meat ready to be used. He was whisking flour, eggs and cornstarch together into a large bowl; adding an ingredient here and there with every few turns of the whisk until he had a large serving of batter before him. Placing the bowl onto the counter, Sōma picked up a crab, lowering it into the mixture with the same delicacy that he'd been showing the animal throughout the entire match.

"Crab tempura…" murmured Satoshi softly from where he sat in the stands. He held a large sign with a large, stylized picture of Erina's face. It was surprisingly detailed and he'd reminded himself more than once to compliment Yuki on her artistic talent once the match was over.

"What was that, Isshiki-senpai?" asked Ryoko, who held her own sign, although this one was a banner with the words "Polar Star Forever" in large, bold kanji.

"Hm? Oh, nothing Sakaki-kun. It just seems like Sōma may be preparing a tempura dish. It's a bit traditional, not to mention simplistic. I would've expected something a bit more exotic, considering Alice-chan's involvement, that's all. Although I suppose it's still quite early; we have a long way to go."

Sōma was still continuing his work with the crabs. After dipping each of them in batter, he'd started dragging them through a pan of oil he'd prepped earlier, one at a time. He made liberal use of a brush and dropper to ensure the crustacean had an even coat before moving on to the next one until each crab sat, dripping in oil over a coating of floured dough.

The crowd talked excitedly amongst themselves as theories were swapped on just what the duo had in store for them. The False God's Tongue was undefeated, save one. And that very person was now assisting him as his sous chef! This, more than anything else, sparked heavy conversation and debate across the hall.

Was Alice actually working for Central all along? Did she cut a deal with Yukihira to allow her RS to be the last one standing? Did Sōma bribe her with a promise of a long awaited victory over her cousin? Were the two secretly lovers?

Hisako, who was in a position to hear that final theory, turned a deep, scarlet red and hoped that the people around her didn't notice. Sadly, this wasn't the case.

"Hisako-chan, are you alright?" asked Marui, noticing the girl's fevered complexion. Hisako waved off his concern, doing her best to cover her distress with a laugh.

"Haha! It's nothing to worry about, I'm fine, Marui-kun. Don't worry about it."

Accepting her answer for the time being but making a mental note to inquire further, Marui turned back to the stage where Megumi had begun adding the cut potatoes to a large saucepan, frying them into a beautiful, golden brown as she lightly spread salt and pepper over the potatoes. The starchy scent flowed throughout the arena, caressing each person it passed as a brief flash overtook them, a flash of that which they called home.

'Megumi-chan's skills have definitely improved.' thought Marui as his mind was taken back, but only for a second, to warm walls, dulcet tones and a bespectacled woman reading to him.

Megumi continued frying the potatoes, turning them over and ensuring each and every single slice was properly cooked. Once satisfied, she placed them into a container, covering it with a sharp snap of processed plastic before moving, brushing past her blonde partner who stood over a large pot that she was slowly pouring rice into. Megumi crouched down, opening the fridge and poking at the duck meat with a skewer. She prodded each leg individually before nodding to herself and shutting the door.

"It should be ready in a few minutes, Erina-chan!"

Erina didn't look up from her pot, where she had begun slowly stirring in a bag of Jasmine rice, her wrist twitching in half remembered strokes, an unorthodox pattern to say the least. A pattern perfected over weeks of working under Yukihira Joichiro. She hummed in approval, even as she kept a mental count of how many times her spoon rotated around the pot.

"That marinade works fast. I'm impressed."

"It's the yogurt." said Megumi as she checked her potatoes again, wafting the scent towards her nose to better appraise the seasoned smell. "The enzymes inside of it help to break down the meat even further than the basic marinade would've done on its own."

"An ingenious move."

Megumi started, the golden brown potato wedges flying into the air. She scrambled frantically, the container shifting in all directions as she tried to catch each piece of potato. She succeeded, if only barely. Capping the container with a sigh of relief, she turned to face the reason behind her distress to find Shinomiya standing in front of their station, his familiar, stern expression in place.

"S-Shinomiya-senpai!"

"Hello again, Tadokoro-chan. I've heard some impressive things about you this past year. I see my decision to allow you to stay was a wise one."

Megumi blushed in embarrassment, looking away from Shinomiya, clutching the container of potatoes to herself, like a security blanket. Even though it had been several months since the training camp, she was still more than a little intimidated by the chef that had once threatened to expel her.

"Come now, I'm sure you've got more backbone than that. Look up when I'm talking to you."

Megumi gulped before taking a deep breath and looking up. Her eyes met Shinomiya's and whatever he saw there made him smile.

"There we go. I knew you had to have SOME fight in you after all your time in this snake pit of a school. You've come a long way, Tadokoro Megumi. I expect nothing less from the girl that fought me to a draw."

"B-but Shinomiya-senpai!" exclaimed Megumi nervously. "I didn't really. I…I lost and it was only because of-"

"Irrelevant." he said, cutting her off. "Dojima's interference aside, as far as I'm concerned, it was a draw. So I'm expecting great things from you, Tadokoro-chan."

Shinomiya turned to head back towards the judges' table but not before delivering one parting remark.

"I started my second year as the seventh seat of the Elite Ten Council. I look forward to seeing what seat you hold, come next month. Don't disappoint me."

Megumi's face blanched and the dish of potatoes would've fallen straight out of her hands if she didn't already have it clutched so tightly to her chest.

Sōma had begun frying the batter coated crabs; the soft white exteriors slowly lightening into a golden yellow. Alice had begun rinsing pasta she'd boiled, threading the needle thin noodles through her fingers under the cold water, humming as she placed them into a colander to drain away any excess water before transferring them to a pot to sit. Moving to a cutting board, she began cutting vegetables, a much smaller collection this time. Chopped tomatoes, carrots and onions were added to the pot as Alice used a slotted spoon to spread them evenly throughout the pasta.

Erina removed the ducks from the fridge; elbowing Megumi out of her stunned state as she walked past her. She began frying the duck legs, the fowl browning quickly under the administrations of the heated oil. As she continued her work, she noticed that the crowd, which had been excitedly chatting and intermittently cheering throughout the entire match suddenly went quiet. Before breaking out into muted whispers.

Erina didn't allow the oddity to distract her; she continued browning the duck meat and transferring it into a plate as it became just the right, darkened shade. Once she'd put all of the meat onto a plate, she turned to Megumi who was staring over her shoulder, mouth agape.

"Ah…our third judge has finally arrived."

Urara's voice sounded shaken and hesitant. Erina turned towards the judges' table, wondering why her heart was pounding. Her eyes widened.

"It's my pleasure to welcome back to Tōtsuki, for the first time since his…um…retirement, the former Director of Tōtsuki, the man renowned as the Demon King of Food and the founder of our glorious institution, Nakiri Senzaemon!"

Urara's proclamation would've normally been met with cheers and applause but, as it were, everyone in the audience was still quiet, apart from a few, shocked murmurs. No one had seen the Nakiri patriarch since his less than graceful dismissal from Tōtsuki in the previous term. Despite the official statement, everyone knew that Senzaemon's "retirement" had been anything but voluntary.

Senzaemon hadn't changed in the time he'd been gone. His red eyes were just as intense as they'd ever been and his voluminous hair and beard were the same, striking silver-grey that they'd always been. His olive green yukata clung to his muscular form, the haori draped over his shoulders doing little to hide his impressive physique.

As the crowd continued to murmur amongst itself, one figure stood up from his seat in his viewer's box, walking forward to stand at the edge of the railing. His movements didn't go unnoticed; although they provoked silence as opposed to action.

Azami looked down at the judges table, where Senzaemon sat casually, unruffled. As if it were simply just another day in which he would act as a judge for a shokugeki. Azami glanced around at the arena, his sharp, empty gaze quieting the last few whispers in the audience. The tension was thick as no one was quite sure of just what was about to happen.

Azami opened his mouth.

"Welcome back, honored Father. It's a pleasure to see you again after so long. I'm sure the students would agree."

Another pause. Another bout of uncomfortable silence. Azami didn't seem perturbed; he simply took a sip from the wine glass in his hands and continued speaking.

"I thank you for accepting my invitation; I look forward to hearing your critique on this particular match. I'm sure it will be nothing short of fascinating."

Senzaemon didn't deign to provide Azami with a response. He sat in his chair, face relaxed and eyes fixed forward onto the arena, where the chefs had continued their work, despite the stir his presence had caused. He watched Alice closely as she began pulling the pasta from the pot before glancing over at Erina, who'd gotten over her surprise and gone back to the counter; where she was mixing the finely cut vegetables she'd prepared with excess marinade in the sauce pan.

Suddenly the silence in the arena was broken by a single clap. As it was the only noise outside of the quiet sizzling of the pans, it was rather easy to pinpoint exactly where it had come from. All eyes turned to face the culprit, Senzaemon's sharp gaze included.

Rindō didn't bother to stand, although she was sitting up in her chair now as opposed to leaning backwards. Her eyebrows were raised over the rims of her wide sunglasses and the smile on her face was positively dripping with mischievous mirth. She brought her hands together again, another clap ringing out.

Rindō continued clapping, her pace increasing ever so slightly until it was clear that she was applauding, albeit rather slowly and quietly.

In another part of the stadium, another set of clapping began. And then another. Followed by another. The growth was exponential as people became emboldened by the actions of their peers; adding their own applause to the group until the noise in the arena started to build and build as hundreds of hands began coming together.

"WELCOME BACK SENZAEMON-SAMA!"

The anonymous cry was the straw that broke the camel's back and suddenly the arena burst into applause and cheering that made their previous efforts appear weak and paltry. It seemed as if every single student was clapping and cheering for their fallen leader; even months after his dismissal, Tōtsuki had not forgotten its true king.

"HAIL THE DEMON KING OF FOOD!"

"We miss you Nakiri-sama!"

"Nakiri Senzaemon Forever!"

Senzaemon closed his eyes, sighing as he felt the emotions of the crowd wash over him. His face didn't move, just as relaxed and calm as it had ever been, although the warmth in his chest was all too real.

"I didn't want to make such a spectacle of this." he muttered to himself, his words lost to the noise of the crowd around him. Even Gin and Shinomiya were clapping; although their reactions were much more restrained than those of the collective students.

The outpouring continued for several minutes, even as the chefs continued to work among the backdrop of loud noise. They were much too skilled to let something as banal as noise distract them from their work. Erina placed the duck and potato together in the sauce pan, among the ingredients she'd already been combining within the pan, a strong scent of paprika now suffusing the kitchen. Erina poured a carefully measured cup of milky water onto the entire arrangement, steam wafting up in response. She continued stirring, setting the heat on the burner to low as she did.

After a few more revolutions of her spoon, Erina stopped abruptly in the middle of stirring before removing the large, serving spoon. She tasted the mixture with a small spoon and allowed Megumi to do the same. At the nod of approval, Erina covered the pot whilst simultaneously pressing a button on the oven timer. Bright green numbers came onto the screen before they started counting down in reverse; one second at a time.

Alice had completed her pasta arrangement, placing the bowl of noodles into the fridge to chill alongside the salad she had prepared earlier. She glanced over at Sōma, who was placing the fried crabs together on a large plate as he took a knife to them, separating the tempura into more manageable pieces. Once he'd finished; he handed the plate over to Alice who grinned down at the collection of shell meat.

Both teams had reached the ending stages of their dishes. Now, they simply needed to wait as the final steps of the cooking process completed themselves. For Erina and Megumi's dish; this meant waiting as their dish simmered in the pot, allowing the juices and flavors to properly mix and seep into each part of the food.

For Alice and Sōma's dish; they should have had no true need to wait. But the departures from classical tempura that they'd taken necessitated more waiting than usual. Alice had been particularly gleeful as she placed the crab tempura into a large, steel box that resembled a microwave, pressing a few buttons before closing the lid and latching it into place.

Now, both teams simply had to wait. And while, under normal circumstances, they would've spent their time trading playful snipes, both Nakiri girls mutually agreed that there was a much better use of their time right in front of them. After all, since his banishment, neither of them had even seen their grandfather.

"Ojii-chan!"

Alice flung herself into Senzaemon's side, her slender arms only barely fitting around his large frame. Senzaemon chuckled, his left arm settling around his granddaughter's shoulders.

"Alice-chan, hello. It's been a while, hasn't it? You're looking as beautiful as ever."

"Well, of course ojii-chan. Did you expect anything else?" she asked, her arrogant smile provoking a laugh from the older man. He rested his cheek on her forehead, the arm around her shoulders tightening as he pulled her into a tight, one armed hug before releasing her. Senzaemon looked over at Erina, who stood in front of the table, shuffling more than a little awkwardly.

"Greetings ojii-chan. I presume you are well?"

Senzaemon smiled kindly at his eldest granddaughter, beckoning her forward. She stepped forward cautiously, only to frown as he used his right arm to pull her into her own embrace. Erina's embarrassed frustration was quite the contrast to Alice's childish glee. Senzaemon smiled down at his flustered granddaughter.

"Indeed, Erina-chan. I'm fine. And how are you? I hope the accommodations with Fumio-chii aren't causing you any undue stress?"

Erina fought her way free of her grandfather's muscled arm; more because he let her than anything else, fixing the hair that he'd inevitably mussed with his ministrations. She briefly noted how odd it was that someone would call the Dorm Mother of Polar Star by such a childish epithet but then she realized that almost anyone would seem young compared to her grandfather.

"No, they're fine. Everything's more than adequate. There was a bit of an adjustment period at first, I'll admit, but I find that I've grown quite used to sharing bathrooms and doing chores."

"You should see her, ojii-chan. Erina's sooooo cute in her little, dirt stained overalls and sun hat. She looks like a genuine farmhand."

"Alice!" bit out Erina, her cheeks bright red at the other girl's lack of propriety. Senzaemon simply laughed at the mental image of his prim, cultured progeny kneeling in the dirt to shovel soil.

"Senzaemon-sama."

Senzaemon found his laughter cut off abruptly as he found himself confronted by the stoic visage of Yukihira Sōma. Sōma's hands were tucked into his pockets but the wrist that peeked out of the left pocket clinked softly as he walked forwards. A detail that Senzaemon didn't miss. He'd heard more than enough about just what Sōma had been up to in the months he'd been gone.

"Yukihira-kun, it's certainly been a while. How are you doing?"

Sōma shrugged casually, glancing over at Erina, who was doing her best to pretend she wasn't paying close attention to their exchange.

"As well as can be expected, circumstances considered. And yourself? How's your retirement been treating you?"

"I must admit that having a break feels just as nice as it did months ago. I haven't grown tired of it yet. That's not to say that I don't miss the fresh faced, spirited youth of Tōtsuki however. It seems the time spent under Nakamura's care hasn't done anything to marginalize that, something I'm quite thankful for."

Senzaemon looked out at the students of Tōtsuki, who were all still filled with a life and zest that, if he was being honest, surprised him. He'd heard it secondhand, of course, but seeing it in person really brought it home to the former director. Four months was more than enough time for Azami to assert his unsavory influence on them but, if what he was seeing was anything to go by, that hadn't happened. Of course, that simply raised the question. Just what was Azami doing?

"Yes, the student body has adapted well to the changes under Central's administration. While the dissolution of the independent factions of Tōtsuki were initially met with some resistance, Azami-sama's concessions and patience have led to many accepting the vision he is trying to lead us towards."

Senzaemon nodded, his expression pleasant even though his eyes were sharply locked onto Sōma's.

"Yes, I've heard one or two things about just how Central is conducting things these days. Especially you, Yukihira-kun. I never imagined you would be so…patriotic."

Sōma didn't smile but there was a certain sardonic amusement in his gaze.

"Well, as I'm sure you can imagine, I have my own reasons for doing things this way."

"But is this way the right way?" asked Senzaemon gravely, his pleasant veneer swapped for one of sternness.

"At times, I'm sure it may be. Just as, at other times, it may not be. The actions I take aren't the right way or the wrong way to handle things, Senzaemon-sama. They are simply my way."

"I urge you to be cautious, Yukihira Sōma. Some things simply aren't worth what you have to give up to obtain them."

For less than a second, Sōma's left eyebrow twitched. The motion was small and innocuous, missed by all in the immediate vicinity except one.

"There's also something to be said for leaving things unfinished. That's not something I'm exactly in the habit of doing, Senzaemon-sama."

Senzaemon sighed, resting his chin onto his fist as he looked at the red head. The look he gave him was one of worn wariness and regret. The look of a man who'd made mistakes; mistakes he could no longer fix on his own, for all that he'd caused them. For a small moment in time, Senzaemon actually looked his age.

"Good luck, Yukihira-kun."

And they both knew that he was talking about much more than this particular shokugeki. Sōma didn't acknowledge the statement, instead turning back to go to his station to check the progress of his food. Both Nakiri girls watched him walk away before turning back to their grandfather. His expression, where it had been calm and pleased before Sōma's arrival, was now one of pensive thought.

"Ojii-chan?" said Erina, the question clear in her tone. Senzaemon sighed, shaking his head softly.

"It's nothing for you to concern yourself with right now, Erina-chan. Besides, I'm sure Yukihira-kun would be able to provide you with a much better answer than I ever could. Provided you win, of course."

"So you're basically saying she has no shot of ever finding out then?" said Alice teasingly, fixing Erina with a competitive glare. "Since Sōma-kun and I are going to win with ease, after all."

Erina glared back with confrontation in her eyes.

"Your arrogance is as familiar as it is unwarranted, cousin."

Alice smirked in response, laughing softly, almost mockingly.

"Arrogance. Facts. They are one and the same, as far as this match is concerned."

"I suppose we'll just have to see." shot back Erina, flicking her hair and turning to walk back towards her station and partner. Alice went to walk off but she found her grandfather's hand on her shoulder.

"One more thing before you go, Alice-chan."

Alice turned back to face Senzaemon, who was now eyeing her with an inscrutable look.

"What's this nonsense I hear about you and Yukihira-kun being romantically involved? And living together?"

Alice blinked. And then blinked again. And then proceeded to turn a red that put her eyes to shame.

"W-w-who told you about that, ojii-chan?"

"Your father." he said, frowning at her.

"T-T-TOU-SAN! He knows?!" shouted Alice, the red rising to encompass all of her face as she held her cheeks in her hands.

"Yes. I have to tell you; he was not thrilled. He also tells me your mother was quite hurt at you not 'keeping her in the loop' or something of that nature. She didn't come out of her room for two days once she heard the news."

"Well, no! Y-y-you see, it's…I-I-It's just that I…and Sōma-kun, h-h-he…"

Senzaemon raised a hand, stopping Alice's nonsensical tirade.

"It is not I you have to explain yourself to, Alice-chan. I'm far too old to tie myself up in knots about my grandchildren's love life."

Alice's blush started to recede. It was simply now covering just most of her face, instead of all of it and her ears. She started to speak, no longer stuttering but, in exchange, she was speaking in a much higher and faster pitch than usual.

"Well…be that as it may, I find it prudent to inform you that Sōma-kun and I broke up as of yesterday night. So, as you can see, there's really nothing to worry about!"

With that, Alice took her leave, all but sprinting back to her station where she began whispering heatedly to Sōma, who looked a bit taken aback by his partner's sudden verbal onslaught. Senzaemon looked down at the way Alice held Sōma's arm, and the way she leaned onto him as she spoke into his ear and he narrowed his eyes at the oddly intimate display. Breakups didn't usually leave the couple in question so…friendly.

"See something interesting, Senzaemon-sama?" asked Gin, who'd been silently observing Shinomiya's heated berating of their plucky commentator with abject amusement. The pink haired alumnus had taken it upon himself to lecture the spritely girl about the finer points of both duck and crab meat, in between jabs at her lack of talent and her weak stomach. Senzaemon shook his head.

"Nothing, Gin-kun. Nothing at all. Just the winding thoughts of an old man, that's all. You'll know what I mean soon enough."

"I'm thirty nine, Senzaemon-sama…"

"Hmm, really now? My, you don't look a day over forty."

"….you can't possibly still be holding a grudge over that bodybuilding competition. It was twenty years ago."

"Twenty three years ago, actually. It seems your memory is slipping in your old age, Gin-kun."

Before Gin could respond, a shrill beeping went off. He looked back to the stations to see Alice pulling the crab meat from the silver box, wisps of cool mist following its exodus. Sōma had already pulled the bowls of pasta and salad from the fridge, settling them onto the counter, ready for plating. As they began working, a ringing came from Erina and Megumi's station, prompting the blue haired girl to turn off the stove and take the pot over to where Erina had already laid out several plates on the opposing counter.

"I'm eager to see where Yukihira's cooking has progressed since his time in my kitchen. Especially considering just who he's up against." said Shinomiya, smirking down at the combatants from his seat at the judges' table.

"I'm sure that both dishes will be quite a sight to see, Shinomiya. I hope we don't have too much of an issue with the ensuing judging." said Gin, sniffing at the air, the familiar scent of cooking at its best making him grin fondly. Even after all these years, two chefs pitting their best against each other still managed to thrill him. He hoped the feeling never faded.

"Alright! Both teams are ready for judging. So I'll leave it up to our esteemed judges to decide who goes first!"

"I propose we try Yukihira's dish first." said Shinomiya, glancing over at the pair's cart in interest.

"I disagree. I think it would be best to start with the team from Polar Star." said Gin. Shinomiya scoffed, looking over at where Gin sat.

"Even now, you interfere Dojima-san? Simply to be contrary?"

Gin shook his head.

"I'm not so petty, Shinomiya. I'm simply more interested in seeing how far the girl you almost threw out of Tōtsuki has come. Is that so wrong?"

"No, but we can do that just as well afterwards! You simply get a kick out of doing your best to overrule me at every turn. I'm through letting you do that. Nakiri-san, come! Present your dish."

Alice stepped forward confidently, two plates balanced perfectly on one arm as she moved towards the judges' table.

"Alice-san. Stay where you are, we'll be sampling your cousin's dish first. Erina-san, come forward." said Gin confidently, gesturing to Erina, who pointed at herself, as if asking if Gin meant her, before shrugging and picking up two covered plates of her own, walking forward to stand in front of the judges' table.

"Dojima-san, just once would you stop being so pig headed? I spoke first. I said we'd judge Yukihira's dish first. That's what we're doing!"

"I'm afraid you're ten years too early to even think of giving me any orders, Shinomiya." uttered Gin, giving Shinomiya a dismissive glance that made the Magician of Legumes grind his teeth angrily.

"You arrogant, skin headed son of a b-"

"That's enough." ground out Senzaemon, cutting off the heated argument. The two alumni silenced themselves immediately in deference to the Demon King of Food, who sighed and shook his head as if he was dealing with two petulant children as opposed to two of the most established chefs of their respective generations.

"In the interest of abiding both of your egos, I propose we judge in a slightly different manner, this time around. We'll use the Justice rotation."

A murmur of excitement went through the crowd at Senzaemon's words. It had been a long time since anyone had seen fit to use the Justice rotation.

"The Justice rotation?"

Erina turned to Sōma, whose tone was inquisitive. He seemed surprised by the odd statement, having never heard of such a thing.

"It's a method of judging shokugekis. Usually, as you know, all of the judges will sample one dish. Give their thoughts. Sample the other, giving their thoughts again. And then compare the two and serve their verdict after internal deliberation. A Justice rotation is where each judge will eat a different dish than the opposite judge before giving their feedback and trying the second dish. With the third judge sampling both at once while acting as somewhat of an intermediary."

"That seems decidedly odd." said Sōma. "I presume it isn't used very often?"

"Even I've only ever seen that done twice, and never in a match I participated in." said Erina. "The supposed purpose for it is so that judging isn't affected by any sort of preconceptions formed by eating a specific dish first, be they mental preconceptions or a literal, physical tainting of your palate."

Erina went to explain further but then stopped as she realized that this was probably the first conversation that she and Sōma had had in months that wasn't fraught with tension or secrets or panic attacks. It was almost reminiscent of the conversations they'd had before…everything had happened. Him being clueless about something and her having to explain to him yet another part of Tōtsuki culture that he didn't understand.

"Alright, I'm fine with that then. Alice-san, if you please?"

Alice stepped forward, placing a plate before Gin and her grandfather.

"And what are you presenting to us today, Alice-chan?" Senzaemon asked.

Alice held up her finger, a playful glint in her eyes as she began to speak.

"Sōma-kun and I have prepared a variation of Crab Tempura, accompanied by Angel Pasta Salad."

Senzaemon uncovered his plate, to find a beautifully arranged mound of thin pasta noodles nestled atop a bed of colorful salad. The pasta and vegetables were arranged in such a way that they formed a rudimentary image of a crab, leaving him to assume that the crab meat itself must be nestled inside of the noodles. A brown, light sauce was drizzled over the entire arrangement, adding yet another layer of artistic depth to the dish.

Senzaemon narrowed his eyes, wondering if they were playing tricks on him. After a few seconds, he confirmed that his eyes were just as sharp as they'd always been. There'd been a twitch from inside the noodles. After a few more seconds, there was even further twitching, the surface of the noodles spasming every so often, as if what lay under it was trying to escape.

"Alice-chan…what is this?" asked Senzaemon slowly, less perturbed and more intrigued. There was no way the crab itself was still alive; he'd seen Sōma clean them himself. This sort of oddity had Alice's flair written all over it. What exactly had his ingenious granddaughter come up with?

"That's a surprise, ojii-chan. Just try it! It won't bite, I promise." said Alice before marching back to her cart and presenting two of the three remaining plates to Erina who looked incredulous. Alice rolled her eyes, all but forcing the plates into her hands.

"Oh come now, Erina. Is it really that surprising? I've told you time and again that I would make you taste defeat. Why settle for a metaphor when I can have your famous tongue do it for me?"

Erina's eyes narrowed into a challenging stare.

"Is that so?"

Erina turned to Megumi, who'd come back to her side after delivering their dish to Shinomiya and Senzaemon. She exchanged a few words with the other girls before heading back to their station and returning with two covered plates.

"In that case, it would be remiss of me to deny you and Yukihira-kun the opportunity to sample our food. Please, enjoy."

"And just what is this that you've prepared, cousin?"

"Burmese Duck Leg and Potato Curry." said Erina. "I'd say I hope you enjoy it, but considering I made it; that's a foregone conclusion, wouldn't you say?"

Alice rolled her eyes with a long suffering sigh, taking the plates from her cousin and walking over to Sōma, who stood at their cart, his posture stiff and uncompromising. She handed a plate to Sōma, who took it from her, having heard the whole exchange.

"This should be interesting." he commented drily, gauging the warmth of the food in his hands.

"I'm sure it will be." said Alice.

"Well, it seems pretty much everyone's getting in on this first taste, ladies and gentlemen!" said Urara, to excited applause as several members of the audience leaned forward with anticipation. This was it. The culmination of the hours spent working and preparing, all coming to a head in one final, brief burst of flavor. "Judges, are you ready?"

At their nods, Urara shouted once more.

"Let the judging commence!"

The judges uncovered their plates. The contestants mirrored their movements.

They picked up their chopsticks. And then they took their first bite.

The ground was dark and desolate, the sky above covered in clouds that reduced the daylight to a mere shadow of its former self. Littering the ground were memories of the fallen; forks, knives, aprons; corkscrews and more were all strewn about the earth, remnants of battles long past.

Sōma was garbed in old, cracked armor, reminiscent of the samurai of old. Two nigh identical katana lay strapped to either side of his hips, a chain entwined in the hilt of one of them. Alice stood behind him with a rag and spray bottle, futilely buffing the worn metal in an attempt to prepare for the coming conflict. A large shield hung across the girl's back was the only armament she possessed.

Erina and Megumi stood across from them; the Nakiri heiress was garbed in full plate mail, her blonde hair flowing out of an opening in the back of her helm. The facemask sat low, obscuring her eyes but leaving the grim mask of determination that was the rest of her face visible. In her hands, she held a long, double handed claymore that looked more axe than sword. Megumi stood behind and to her left; twin grooved daggers held in her grip; blades meant to parry and deflect as opposed to stab and slash.

A voice boomed. The voice of Dojima Gin, a formidable soldier in his time that was now an observer and advisor to this new generation of warriors.

The duck is amazingly tender. Much tenderer than I would've ever expected, even considering the time spent marinating.

"The ducks were reared by our classmate personally. They've been treated with the utmost care and were killed only hours ago." said Erina, stepping forward and swinging her blade down towards Sōma's form.

Another voice chimed in, the spectral tones of Shinomiya Kojiro resounding across the plain.

The pasta is so thin but satisfying. It meshes perfectly well with the salad and, in turn…is that crab meat twitching?

Erina's sword came down onto Alice's shield with a harsh CLANG! The crouching girl grinned up at her cousin.

"The machine we used doesn't have a name; the patents are pending. But it wafts liquid nitrogen over the meat in very light amounts, to the point where it freezes the skin and only slightly chills the meat below."

Alice pushed, forcing her cousin's blade off and to the side before dancing backwards, her tongue extended in jest.

"Heating filaments were then used to heat the meat from the inside out before being removed right before serving. The contrast in heating and cooling causes the fresh muscle fibers to contract and relax rapidly as the meat sits on the plate, mimicking actual movement." she said cheekily, winking at her opponents.

Erina stepped back, bringing her sword back into a ready position.

The crab meat still has a cool sheen to it; but when you bite into the meat, it's also suffused with warmth. A truly exquisite paradox.

Sōma drew his blades at speed, slicing out at Erina in a blistering hail of slashes. Erina grunted, stepping back with the force of each slash before Sōma suddenly stopped, his movements arrested. His blades were held in the grooves of Megumi's daggers as her golden eyes locked onto his own, where she'd stepped in to defend her partner. Gin's voice spoke, pleasantly surprised.

It's not like I haven't had curry with potatoes in it. And it's not like I haven't had curries that utilized duck meat. But still this…this is something special.

Megumi pushed, forcing Sōma back as she pirouetted; her daggers lancing out and scratching his armor, the force pushing him back even further. Gin continued speaking.

There's something so distinct about this dish. You can feel the signature of both chef's shine through in an oddly harmonious way. I can tell that this is a dish that could only be made by the two that did it.

Erina stepped forward, switching positions with Megumi flawlessly. Her blade came down, striking Sōma's shoulder pauldron with heavy force, causing him to grunt and fall to one knee. Her blade bit into the worn armor; the cracks widening even further beneath the steel.

What's this…Yukihira's dish is…odd. It makes me feel…strange. It's like a tide of negativity that's been tempered by a warm edge. A redirection of force and emotion. It's making what should've been an unpleasant experience an intriguing and unique one.

Alice lashed out, ramming Erina directly in the chest with her large shield, forcing the armored girl back a step. Alice gritted her teeth and stepped forward again, doing her best to force the blonde away from Sōma's kneeling form. He stood to his feet, only barely swaying.

Dojima, I'm sure that Tadokoro-san and Erina-san's dish is harmonious. They clearly interact well as both chefs and friends. But Yukihira and Alice-san's dish clashes with itself in a way that shouldn't work but simply does. It's astounding.

Sōma stabbed forward, his blades moving as if to pierce Alice straight through. Instead she grinned saucily as she shifted ever so slightly, one sword barely missing her cheek and the other one sailing through the crook of her elbow, the sudden appearance of the sword tips forcing Erina back. Still, a line of blood appeared on her cheek, the crimson liquid slowly draining down the side of her face. She didn't bother to wipe it off.

Their sense of trust and harmony seeps into every fiber of the dish, Shinomiya! I can literally taste the bonds forged in this generation's Polar Star in every spoonful of this curry. These two have somehow manage to portray the will and determination of their entire dorm in a single plate.

Heh. That's nice and all, but I doubt that could match the passion I feel in every single portion of my plate. The pasta, the salad, the crab meat…it's all suffused with a passion that can't be matched. A chaotic yet beautiful arrangement that I can't get enough of.

Sōma's eyes widened and he bared his teeth in what was more of a snarl than a grin. Black miasma burst forth to coat his body. Alice crouched down in front of him, drawing her shield in front of her. Sōma leapt into the air, landing on the shield for just a second. Alice heaved, launching him forwards and into Erina's armored form, bodily forcing her away from Megumi. Megumi didn't spare her partner a glance; instead she rushed forward to trade blows with Alice, whose shield took the brunt of the girl's force easily; the daggers not even scratching the surface.

Erina shifted her sword at an angle, the wide blade doing what it could to block Sōma's dual onslaught. She waited patiently, allowing her armor to take the brunt of the damage from the flurry of slashes Sōma was delivering. His expression was crazed but focused; a berserker's madness tempered and honed by relentless discipline into a single direction. Black smoke wafted off of him, wisps discharging with each strike.

I think we've both said all that's needed to be said. Shall we start in on the other dish then, Dojima-san?

Gladly.

Suddenly, the two fighters broke apart, Sōma springing back to stand several feet away from his foe as the black mist faded as quickly as it had appeared. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other under the harsh sunlight of this deserted battlefield. Erina's sword fell as she lowered it, one hand leaving the hilt to go to her visor. She moved it upwards; uncovering the rest of her face.

Purple eyes glared at Sōma across the gap between them. They said all that needed to be said, without a single, spoken word. Sōma didn't say anything in return to the intense stare. He simply stood, both naked blades held out to opposing sides. Erina brought her visor back down, her briefly angry countenance exchanged for the calm focus with which she'd been fighting with.

This angel's hair pasta is amazingly well done. And the salad that acts as a bed for it, along with the gastrique, produce a striking contrast. Wonderful work, Yukihira-kun. Alice-san.

This duck is just as tender as you described, Dojima-san. I'm not surprised at all that this bird was alive less than twelve hours ago. My compliments to the student that reared it.

Both warriors moved, Erina swinging her sword in a wide arc that would've cut Sōma in two if he hadn't moved, his blades lashing out towards Erina. The knight turned, the katana only barely catching a few strands of her honey blonde hair. The stray ends were whisked away in the wind almost instantly. Erina stepped forward, her armored fist lashing out to thump into Sōma's chest solidly, sending the rōnin back with a grunt of pain.

Hmmm….I'm impressed. I would've thought this meal would be a bit too heavy after experiencing Yukihira's lighter fare. But I don't feel it at all.

"We used coconut water instead of fresh water as the base of the curry." said Erina, stepping forward once more to lash out at Sōma, who only barely dodged the large sword. "The coconut's sweetness counteracted a good portion of the blunt savory flavor of a dish like this. It was an idea of Megumi-chan's, had in the heat of the moment. She thought it would be more pleasing to the palate. And…"

Erina stepped forward once more, stabbing her blade forward.

"I."

Another stab.

"Couldn't."

A slash this time.

"Agree."

A double handed overhead strike finished the combination.

"More."

Alice peeked out from behind the shield, frowning down at the new rents in it before looking up and grinning mischievously at Erina. Sōma stood behind her, looking at Alice with a measure of gratitude. He leaned forward and hugged her body to his own, nipping playfully at her ear as he grinned savagely. The pale girl blushed madly.

Loath as I am to admit it, I must agree with you, Shinomiya. The sheer passion and emotion of this deceptively mild dish is beyond uncanny. The blistering storm of rage, tempered by the gentle guiding hand. It's almost like a tragic love story.

Megumi fell from the sky to land beside Erina in a crouch. She glared at Alice, who merely stuck her tongue out from where she sat, cradled in Sōma's arm. He released her, but not before murmuring in her ear while his hand roamed to a place that caused Alice to shove him and hide behind her shield.

Sōma turned to face Erina; the grin on his lips was small but it was all the more fearsome for it. Erina held her blade at the ready but couldn't account for Sōma's speed; he dashed forward, leaping straight over her with his blade lashing out at her face. The katana hit, glancing off her helmet and causing it to ring fiercely. His chained katana struck less than a second later at another angle, sending the helm flying off of Erina's head into the dirt several meters away. Erina's body turned with the blow and a trickle of red was visible on the side of her head as it began to drip onto the dry ground.

I…I am impressed. Despite my insistence on sampling Polar Star's dish first; I am casting my vote with Central. This crab tempura appears so deceptively simple, in both appearance and preparation, but that only goes to show how subtle and well placed the chefs' influence was on this meal. Yukihira Sōma and Nakiri Alice have personified themselves on this plate in more ways than one. Their differing styles have come together and produced something truly remarkable. If my sous chef and I had half this level of synergy…I can only imagine what we'd be able to accomplish.

Sōma turned to face Erina, who wasn't looking at him. Instead she was still turned away, where his blow had left her. Her blonde hair, now free of the helmet entirely, was blowing in the wind, as the stream of red continued to flow down the side of her face. Sōma twirled his chained katana, whistling without a sound, ostensibly casual. He stepped forward but was forced to immediately retreat as a dagger sunk into the dirt before him. Megumi leapt forwards, her single dagger lashing out to catch Sōma in the unprotected armpit joint of his armor.

This assures me that my faith in her is anything but misplaced. Despite the fact that Nakiri Erina was the lead chef on this meal, the influence of Tadokoro Megumi has interwoven in a way that is almost undetectable yet also undeniable. Every step she's taken has been to support Erina-san's cooking; she's been the perfect support. Unseen, unheard but always there, always helpful, always hospitable. For all that Erina-san is the lead actor, Tadokoro-chan is the stage manager, crew and supporting cast all in one. There is no question. My vote lies with them. With Polar Star.

Sōma tried to dodge the stab but was only partially successful. The blade still managed to catch him in the side, the rough edge tearing at the skin over his ribs and the straps holding his armor in place. The plates that made up his torso armor fell away as he jumped backwards, looking down at his damaged side. Luckily, the wound was fairly shallow; Megumi's weapons were meant to defend, not attack after all. But all bets were off when her friends were in trouble. Megumi lunged forward, a kick snapping out towards Sōma's face; it missed but the edge of her boot managed to hit the crest on his helmet, sending it careening off in much the same manner as Erina's.

Sōma stepped back, ears ringing as he did his best to apply pressure to his wound with the inside of his forearm. He would've preferred to clutch it with a hand but both of them were currently occupied with his swords. Red flowed past the pressure he placed on the wound and, soon, his own red stream started to drip towards the ground. He gritted his teeth, abandoning his attempt to staunch the wound in favor of slashing out at Megumi. She caught his blade in the grooves of her dagger easily but allowed herself to be forced back.

Megumi glanced back, only barely dodging out of the way of Alice's shielded charge. The blue haired girl danced back and away to stand beside Erina, who still hadn't turned to face the conflict. The only movement from her, if you could call it that, was her hair moving with the wind and the constant stream of red dripping from her chin onto the ground below.

Alice stood at Sōma's side, her expression worried. She turned to Sōma but he simply shook his head at her, waving her back. He stepped forward and grit his teeth. The black aura rose once again but in a different manner. It didn't burst forth so much as crawl to coat Sōma's skin in an intense, tightly packed layer. His expression wasn't manic or crazed; it was simply determined and serious. All of his emotion had been laser focused into one singular goal; triumphing over the blonde knight that stood in his way.

Erina finally turned to face her opponent. One side of her face was marred by a streak of blood that, even now, continued to drip. Despite this, her eyes were as sharp and unmoved as ever. At some unspoken signal, Megumi stepped forward and unbuckled the straps on the girl's chest plate. The heavy plate mail fell to the floor, dust erupting into clouds as it struck the loose dirt. Her greaves and boots soon followed, until she was only garbed in a black, clinging body suit, a chain mail vest and the gauntlets of her original heavy armor. She held her blade up, swinging it a few times experimentally before settling into an open, loose stance.

So we're in disagreement, then? I can't say I'm surprised. Are you?

Not in the least, Shinomiya. Senzaemon-sama, you are the deciding vote.

Now that I think about it, you've been oddly quiet for a while now, Senzaemon-sama. Are you still considering who deserves it?

Sōma began to move forward. It started as a light jog, before accelerating further and further until he was locked into a dead sprint. Both katana were held out to either side of his body and his feet thumped against the ground as he continued to go faster and faster. The light catching his red hair at the speeds he was moving made it look like he was crowned with flames.

Erina began moving forward in response; she didn't waste time on accelerating slowly. She burst forward at full speed, moving at speeds that could almost match Sōma now that the bulk of her armor had been discarded. Her blade was held out and to the side, the tip was only barely avoiding skirting the ground. Her hands tightened around the hilt as the distance between her and Sōma shrank with every passing second. Her hair flared out, trailing yellow as it caught the sunlight.

Well…what'll it be? Don't leave us in suspense.

I must admit; it is not often I see you mired in indecision like this, Senzaemon-sama. You're usually quite decisive in your judgements.

Their feet thundered across the terrain as they streaked towards each other. This was it. The final blow. Things would be decided here and now. In one move.

Thirty feet became twenty. Twenty feet became ten. Ten feet became five.

A third voice, that of an aged king, rumbled throughout the landscape for the first time that day.

No…I'm not having any trouble deciding. From the first taste, I knew exactly which dish had my vote.

Twin katana slashed through the air. A claymore's blade whistled as it was swung.

For me, once I'd sampled both dishes, there was no question. Not for a single, solitary second.

Erina stood, her sword held aloft in the air from the follow-through of a swing.

Sōma stood a scant few feet past her, crouched from his charge. His swords were held tightly in his hands, flared out from the slash he'd put his strength into.

The king spoke once more. Blood burst forth in a wide, fatal arc.

Time passed. Slowly. Seconds felt more like hours as both warriors remained standing; the ground between them stained crimson.

And then. Finally.

Someone smiled. Someone fell.

"And with that, the shokugeki has concluded." said Urara, gesturing towards the judges' table. "The showing by both of our contestants was spectacular as I'm sure you can tell; it really says something when two former first seats disagree on the outcome of a match! Please give a round of applause for our victors!"

The crowd was silent; not even a whisper was heard as every single person in the room looked upwards at the electronic scoreboard. Senzaemon's eyes were closed even as he stood from his seat, arms folded. The upper half of his robe was thrown open, the fabric lying somewhere around his waist, leaving his defined, muscled form on display. The accompanying haori was on the floor, stripped from Senzaemon's form in approval for the cooking talent he'd borne witness to.

Soma looked down at the empty plate in his hands. His fingers trembled as he gripped the ceramic, cracks running from where his fingers were in contact with the plate. From the corner of his eye, he saw Alice's sad expression and he knew. He knew what he would see when he looked up.

Yukihira Sōma & Nakiri Alice – 1

Nakiri Erina & Tadokoro Megumi – 2

Not a sound was heard as everyone struggled to process just what had happened. Had that really happened? Had Yukihira Sōma, the man that had been singlehandedly tearing Tōtsuki's upper echelon apart at the seams just lost?

The crack of a glass shattering was heard. It would've usually been a small, easily missed noise. But, in the dead quiet of the arena, it was magnified and easily pinpointed. All eyes turned to its source. The Director's booth.

Azami was on his feet, an empty smile on his face. He would've been the picture of relaxed amusement, were it not for the glass shards and wine staining one of his gloves. Without a word or glance backwards, he turned and exited the booth, disappearing noiselessly through the doors in the rear of the box.

As the last of his cloak fluttered through and out of the doorway; the cheering started. This time, there was no slow build up; no gradual building to a crescendo. The audience, almost as one, erupted into hooting and hollering as everyone clapped. Everyone. Even those that had been on Central's side were swept up into the sheer excitement; clapping and applauding with the rest. It had been an amazing match, no matter the outcome, after all. They could clap for that, even if not for the victors.

The section that housed the Polar Star residents was by far the loudest. Streamers and sparklers were out in full glory as they all cheered. Daigo and Shoji between them held a banner that was larger than both of them combined, professing Polar Star's victory for all to see. Yuki was crying into Shun's shirt, even as she continued waving a flag that had Fumio's face on it. The quiet boy wasn't clapping or cheering but the bright, wide smile on his face said it all.

Ryoko was pouring out rice juice for everyone in range with a cup and a desire to celebrate. And if this particular bottle had a bit of an extra kick to it, what was the harm? Satoshi had shed his clothes entirely; his modesty preserved solely by an apron with 'Congratulations!' written across it in bold kanji as he continued waving his Erina branded flag vigorously. He caught Megumi's eye and he smiled happily, nodding at the girl. He mouthed something that she only barely caught.

'I knew you could do it'

Erina held her hands to her chest, closing her eyes as she let the noise and warmth wash over her. She'd been cheered for like this dozens, if not hundreds, of times in the past but this…this time felt different. This time, it felt like it mattered. Like she'd done something other than be the God's Tongue or the Nakiri heiress to receive them. She'd just been Erina. She'd earned them.

A small, warm hand slipped into hers and Erina turned to meet Megumi's smiling face. Whatever sliver of darkness may have still resided in her had been completely expunged by Senzaemon's proclamation.

"You did it, Erina-chan. Just like you said you would."

Erina shook her head, trying and failing to keep the smile on her face restrained. Without thinking, her arms came out to surround Megumi in a tight hug that was reciprocated almost immediately.

"No. We did it, Megumi-chan. WE did it."

Erina released Megumi and turned to face their fallen opponents. Alice was pouting dejectedly, her arms crossed, all petulance. Her cousin was, and probably always would be, a sore loser. She looked back at Erina and her expression eased for a second as she gave Erina a grudging nod and smile before reverting to the pouty childishness that she was known for. Erina smiled at the familiar gesture before turning to look at Sōma, who stood somewhat behind Alice. He was staring up at the scoreboard. His hands hung limply even though his expression was as withdrawn and cold as Erina had ever seen it. Shards of broken porcelain littered the floor around his feet.

As if he could feel her gaze, Sōma turned to lock eyes with Erina. She flinched in surprise at the hollowness within them. His dull, yellow eyes bored into hers with an intensity that, if she was being honest, frightened her. After several seconds of staring, something sparked within his eyes. Something that Erina didn't recognize but seemed almost worse than the emptiness had been.

Erina gasped softly as she held out her hand, unsure of what exactly was going to happen but knowing she wanted to prevent it. Whatever it was. Sōma smiled bitterly at her; an honest smile, if not a happy one. He stepped towards the sink and raised his left hand into the air; the tinkling of the chain only barely catching Alice's ear.

She turned to face Sōma, only to see him reach up and unhook his chain and grip it in his right hand before dropping it into the drain of the sink and flipping a switch on the base of the counter with his left hand. A shrill, grating noise rang out as the garbage disposal started up, the blades clashing against the links of Sōma's chain in a cacophony that was only barely disguised by the continued cheering of the crowd.

Sōma's shoulders began to shake and he shuddered, almost falling to his knees. His white knuckled grip on the countertop was the only reason he stayed standing. He continued trembling; flinching at every harsh, dissonant clang of metal on metal until, after what was much too long, the only sound left was the cheering of the crowd and the low humming and whirring of the activated garbage disposal.

Sōma stopped shaking, falling into a relaxed pose as a few stray tremors passed through him before his body settled completely. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he rubbed at the back of it with one hand. He reached over and turned the garbage disposal off with a casual flick of his fingers before placing both hands into his pockets. He still hadn't turned to face either Nakiri.

"Sōma-kun…"

Alice's voice seemed to catch his attention and Sōma turned to look at her, smiling at her. The manic edge to it only served to make Alice worry even more.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I really am. I tried."

As did that proclamation and the lost quality to Sōma's voice.

Then he turned and locked eyes with Erina. His eyes caught hers and the sheer fire in them caught Erina off guard. Sōma's eyes…they burnt. Sōma began chuckling, lowly at first. But soon, the volume began to escalate until he was laughing so hard that he was having trouble catching his breath.

The crowd was still cheering but, by now, more than a few had noticed what was happening in the arena below and had stopped, confused as to why Yukihira Sōma was currently in the throes of a laughing fit.

Sōma continued laughing, all but ignoring the cramping pains in his stomach as he held his chest, taking a deep breath only to release it in another hysterical fit of hilarity. His bright yellow eyes were still locked onto Erina's, although he was swaying with the attempt to stay on his feet through the spasms wracking his body.

Erina didn't know how to react; she simply stood frozen, as she watched Sōma break down before her. Alice was similarly struck. Both of her hands were held out towards Sōma beseechingly and she took a cautious step forward, flinching as the movement caused Sōma to glance her way before looking back at Erina, without a single pause in his laughter.

Even after Alice had come fully forward and tried to speak with him, Sōma continued laughing.

Even after Joichiro had descended from the audience, his face a grim mask of concern, Sōma continued laughing.

Even after the crowd had stopped cheering and he was the only source of noise in the entire arena, Sōma continued laughing.

He laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.