When Sōma saw Azami with his hand on Kumi's shoulder and the look of fear on his sister's face, there was no hesitation from either of his sides. The rage that came over them swept them up completely and Sōma charged, intent on causing Azami harm and getting him away from Kumi. Preferably both.

Sōma didn't yell or scream; he simply moved, sprinting towards Azami, who seemed unconcerned with Sōma's hostility. The director simply stood to face Sōma and raised a single hand, his thumb and middle finger held against each other. They moved suddenly.

Snap.

The simple noise reverberated in Sōma's mind like a gong. He gasped as he stumbled, almost falling straight to the floor. The feeling in his mind…it wasn't pain but it wasn't pleasant either. It felt like wool had been draped over his senses. He felt muted, as if he was chained all over again, but this time someone else was holding the leash.

He struggled to keep his eyes focused on Azami. The sight of the Central head's pale, slightly smiling visage was enough to make Sōma snarl and continue lurching towards Azami, even though he could barely feel his feet.

Snap.

Sōma gasped, stumbling again. The feeling of muted wooliness had suddenly increased, to the point where Sōma couldn't even tell if he was standing or crouching as he stared at the linoleum floor. He tried to maintain his focus but it was difficult. He felt as if he was trying to see through dense fog, his mind clouded with a sense of numbness.

The rage he'd felt still continued to burn, despite this though and he continued walking towards Azami, though the man now looked more like a vague, dark blob than a person. Every step was laborious, as if Sōma was walking through deep snow or sand, but he continued. The thought of Azami anywhere near Kumi gave him the strength to.

Snap.

Everything stopped.

The outside world disappeared and Sōma was completely overtaken by his mind. He felt himself fall and fall until, suddenly, he was somewhere else. Somewhere within his mind that he both recognized and didn't.

He was in a cage, strapped to a chair. Around his left wrist hung a thick chain that snaked out and wound its way through the bars of the cage before disappearing off into the darkness. In front of his cage, he saw himself. Seated before Azami in a dark, familiar room.

The Sōma in the chair was panting, his fingers tense and curled into the wood. Sweat dripped down his face, pasting his bangs haphazardly to his forehead as his chest rose and fell. He was staring ahead vacantly, looking not at the wall but through it. His golden eyes were dim and faded. This was a Sōma from the past, from when Sōma was still undergoing Azami's conditioning. However, Sōma remembered every single second of the time he'd spent in Azami's care yet he didn't recall this particular scene at all.

He watched Azami pace around the other Sōma, looking down at him.

"The session is at an end, Sōma-kun. How do you feel?" he asked.

Sōma didn't respond. He simply continued to pant, staring at the stone wall before him.

"Wonderful." Said Azami. "Now, onto the next stage."

Azami reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small device. He placed it on the table before sliding his finger across the top of it before releasing.

The metronome ticked back and forth, clicking in time.

"Listen to the sound of my voice, Sōma-kun. Listen and heed it. You will serve me."

Azami snapped his fingers and both the Sōma in the chair and the Sōma in the cage flinched.

"You will remain loyal, unwaveringly, to me. And only me."

Azami snapped again.

"You will serve me. You will serve me. You. Will. Serve. ME!"

On the third snap, the image shattered, fading into nothing. Despite that, he could still hear Azami's voice, as if the man was standing right behind him, whispering directly into his ear.

"Dritte. Dritte. Dritte. Dritte…"

Azami continued repeating the word, chanting it almost. Sōma felt himself tilting in response to the soothing sound, his head lolling back as he felt the woolen feeling rise up over his senses once more. He felt the comfort of not-thinking, of simply taking orders and doing Azami's will. It swelled up and surrounded him in a loving embrace, calling him back to where he belonged. On bended knee to-

NO!

With a gasp, Sōma sat upright, blinking blearily as he felt the chain on his left wrist spark and squirm, tugging against his hand. He looked out into the darkness where he could, barely, see a form in the distance. It approached him, moving slowly but purposefully. As it got closer to the cage, more and more details were revealed until Sōma was staring at the monochromatic version of himself that he'd become used to seeing in the mirro.

This Sōma's dark eyes were fixed on Sōma's and his face was set in a dispassionate, intense expression.

"It's you." Said Sōma, blinking in surprise. "Fancy meeting you down here. I'd offer you a chair but, well."

Sōma raised his hands, shrugging.

Your pointless drivel is as unamusing as ever.

The black clad Sōma stepped up to the cage, eyeing the bars critically.

"So what was that?" asked Sōma, jerking his head towards the empty space where the memory had resided. "Yet another lovely little surprise you kept hidden away from me?"

Not exactly. I doubt it's the only memory of its kind either; this seems more routine than it rightfully should.

Sōma's darker half narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the spot where the memory had resided.

It was hidden when we first split, all those months ago. When our division was more natural, as opposed to us picking and choosing and warring over parts of our self.

"Ah, back when we used to work together." Said Sōma, grinning. "Those were good times, huh False God's Tongue? Don't you miss them?"

Miss is a strong word. Though I do prefer them to…this.

The chained Sōma waved, indicating the cage kept in place.

We're just lucky that Rindō broke us when she did. It's the only thing that allowed me to be out here and not stuck in there with you.

Sōma's eyes narrowed before he scoffed, shaking his head.

"So is that it? You're going to leave me locked up here while you go off gallivanting in our body? Breaking the arms of everyone that disagrees with us and speaking in cryptic monotones all the time?"

The black clad Sōma grit his teeth, baring them at his caged copy.

Oh, how I wish I could. But I think we both know that it wouldn't be a feasible solution. For the long term.

"Yea. We've proven that. Our squabbling couldn't have happened at a worse time. Thanks for that, by the way."

I won't apologize. I saw it as the best solution to deal with a problem.

"Splitting our already divided psyche in some sort of hostile takeover seemed like the best solution to you? Really?"

I do what is necessary. Nothing more.

Sōma rolled his eyes at his darker half.

"What. Ever. So what do you think is necessary now, huh? I assume you wouldn't be speaking with me if you could afford to just leave me in here."

We need to come together.

That stopped Sōma short. He gaped at his other half, whose expression was one of thin lipped distaste.

We have been separated too long. We've differed too greatly from what we were when we first became…us. If Azami uses the psychological trigger on us, we risk reverting. Only this time, I doubt he'd be careless enough to let anyone near us enough to recreate what Rindō did.

"Yea, massively unlikely." Said Sōma, frowning. "How will merging help us though? The whole point of splitting in the first place was so that you could take all of the emotional crap I'm not made to deal with."

We're different now. I'm different. So are you. When we merge…

Sōma's other side hesitated, his face going even stonier.

When we merge, we will be one Yukihira Sōma. But we will not be the same Yukihira Sōma that we once were either. We will be different. More driven, less joyful. More powerful but less restrained. There will be an adjustment period, to be certain.

"I'm not sure we'll have time for that. If Azami's to the point where he's going to trigger us, he must feel as if we've really…slipped the leash…"

Sōma grinned widely at the forced pun. His other side stared at him flatly but before it could respond, a loud voice was heard. Nakiri Azami's voice. Unlike before, when it was barely a whisper, this voice boomed, reverberating across the entire space. Instinctively both of them knew that this was no recollection; this was the actual Azami speaking to them.

DRITTE

Instantly, Sōma's mindscape began rumbling and shaking. The cage he was within started rattling, almost throwing the Sōma outside of the cage to the ground. The dark haired Sōma got to his feet, reaching his hand through the cage beseechingly.

Hurry! We're out of time!

Sōma reached for the outstretched hand, struggling. His bonds in the chair prevented him from fully reaching, his fingertips only scant inches from his other side's hand.

"I can't! This damned conditioning cage keeps me just out of reach, you'll have to come in here!"

No! Fool! Think. What would be the point? So we could both be trapped in Azami's grasp forever?

The dark haired Sōma banged his hand against the bar, his fist impacting with little effect.

You must get out of the chair. Slip those bonds. This is our mind, it's all a representation. What do those straps represent?

"I don't know! You're the one with all of the answers here!" shouted Sōma desperately. He flinched as he heard the sound of a gong. Or more accurately, felt it rumble in his chest. He cried out, clutching at his chest and he saw his dark mirror wince, putting his hand to his chest as well before continuing to glare at the bound Sōma.

I'm not the weakling in the cage. My apologies for not knowing every little insecure twist of your half of our mind!

The black haired Sōma glared at his colored counterpart, his eyes ice cold.

Take. My. Hand. Or we're all fucked. All of us. Me. You. Alice. Erina. Polar Star. Tōtsuki. Everyone!

With each name, Sōma flinched, the bonds tightening against him in response. He whimpered, clawing at the latch holding his right arm in place.

"I…I can't! I can't do this, you have to help me."

I can't. I've been your crutch for months, that's part of the issue. This is something you need to do without me.

Sōma's other half retracted his hand before taking a full step back.

"What are you doing? Are you just going to leave me?!" shouted Sōma, his eyes wide with fear as he felt his heart begin to race even faster, thumping against his chest.

Sōma's counterpart took another step back, even as their surroundings continued to shake and rumble. The very edges of the plane began to fold inwards, borders appearing where there was before only boundless space. A sound reminiscent of crumbling stone and twisting metal began to resound throughout the space, causing Sōma to wince even as his other half continued to stare stonily at him.

If you can't get out of this, then we don't deserve to make it out of this.

The groaning continued as the edges of the mindscape began encroaching even further and further, approaching the center where the Sōma doubles resided.

"Come on, please! Just open the door and step in!" shouted Sōma. "That's better than us being lost forever!"

If I do it, then it will all have been for naught regardless.

He took another step back.

Now get up. You spineless wretch. Do something for yourself. For us. For all of the people we care about!

The not-voice echoed hauntingly over the space, momentarily drowning out the sounds of collapsing reality around them.

Sōma felt tears begin to well up in his eyes.

"I…I can't." he said, haltingly. At his admission, the bonds holding him cinched even tighter in place.

Why?

"I'm scared." Said Sōma, his voice catching. At this point, Sōma was all but immobile, firmly held to the chair by the straps.

And you think I'm not?

The dark haired Sōma folded his arms, glaring contemptuously at his other half even as the edges of their mind grew ever closer, seconds away from consuming them both.

But unlike you, I can do what needs to be done. And unlike me, you can do more than that. You can do more. You risk more, you invest more but you can do more as a result.

Sōma felt the bonds across his chest loosen with every word not-spoken by his other side.

Your emotions are not what make you weak. Your actions do. Do not allow yourself, allow us to be defined by them. Now. Get. UP!

Almost as if by command, Sōma's bonds burst into threads and he stood up. He ran at the cage bars, his hand reaching out. His other side did not reach out for it, remaining where he stood, barely out of reach.

You can make it here. You can make it out of that cage. Believe in yourself.

Sōma grabbed at the bars, pulling and pushing against them. The metal resisted but, slowly, they began to bend under his hands, the gap between them growing wider and wider as Sōma bent them outwards, the metal loosening and softening as if it was made of rubber. Sōma grinned down at the loosening bars but his grin faded as he looked up.

The edges of their mindscape were accelerating, barreling towards his other side's back. The dark haired Sōma glanced over his shoulder but otherwise showed no concern, even as the edges of his form began to blur and dissipate.

I suggest you move quickly.

Sōma grunted, throwing his full weight against the bending bars. They bent more and more until, finally, he was able to slip his body through. He stumbled to the ground, almost losing his footing but catching himself.

He stood before the other Sōma, who had the barest of smiles on his face. Sōma extended a hand to his other side, smiling cheekily. Sōma's dark half rolled his eyes but placed his hand in his own.

The moment they touched, the collapsing mindscape around them vanished. The cage, the chain, the edges…everything. Until it was just the two of them, hand in hand. Sōma laughed as he looked around.

"Well, that's that then. Welcome back to me, me!"

You…are so cheesy.

Where their hands met, a glow began to form and suddenly their hands were stuck fast. They began falling suddenly, the darkness around them all encompassing until, slowly, it began to fill with things. Flashes of memories and emotion swept past them as they continued falling.

Sōma saw his mother smiling down at him.

He saw himself at her funeral.

Sōma saw the first time he'd ever held a kitchen knife.

He saw the first cut he'd given himself right after.

Sōma saw when he first held Kumi in his arms, her purple eyes staring up at him in wonder.

He saw when he had to leave her behind when he went to Tōtsuki.

Both Sōmas continued falling, surrounded by the purest representations of themselves and their experiences; each memory crystal clear as they passed them by, despite the speeds they were traveling at.

"Trippy, huh?" he asked nonchalantly.

It is somewhat disorienting, yes.

"Still pretty damn cool though."

Agreed.

Sōma saw when Alice first held him, cradling him as he screamed.

He saw when he made the decision to never tell her how he felt.

Sōma saw when he went back on that decision as she kissed him.

He saw when he broke her heart.

Sōma saw the night they spent together.

He saw the nights he'd spent with Rindō.

"Our relationship with Rindō-senpai is pretty odd, you gotta admit. Especially after what she did to us."

You cannot blame the scorpion for stinging you, for it is simply its nature.

"Yea, I guess. Still though. She's kind of like the big sister we never had, ya know?"

Minus the sex, of course?

"Well, duh."

Sōma saw when he spoke to Hayama, assuring him of the seminar's freedom from Central.

He saw when he opened his closet door, adding Kuga's uniform jacket to the growing number hanging there.

Sōma saw when he spoke to Erina and Megumi, securing their help in the Elite Ten Selection.

He saw Erina's childish, tear filled gaze as she screamed for her father to return and take her from the cold darkness.

Sōma saw when he first saw Kumi standing among the DEF kitchen children, smirking up at him with her classic arrogance.

He saw her and Azami in the hallway, Azami's hand on her shoulder and the other hand reaching towards the crown of her head, where a white lock of hair was barely visible amongst the deep black.

"I hope Kumi's safe. I've got no idea how long I've been in here."

There was only silence.

Sōma looked around, noting the lack of any of his other selves. He looked down at his hands, flexing them appreciatively as he continued to fall. This time, he noticed that he was actually falling towards something. A bright light.

"So we went full on cliché huh? Guess I am pretty cheesy." said Sōma to himself, flipping his body around so that he was diving straight towards the light. He cracked his knuckles expectantly as it grew brighter and brighter as he approached it. Just before the light swallowed him, he grinned.

"I'm back."

Sōma was suddenly standing on his feet, alert and awake. His eyes were closed but every muscle felt wired and alert. He carefully flexed his hands, taking stock of the situation based on what he could hear. Before he could ascertain much, he heard a voice.

"Well, how do you feel, Sōma-kun?"

He'd know that voice anywhere. He heard it in his dreams and in his nightmares. But the sudden fear it inspired was quickly tampered and control by a core of steel that he hadn't possessed months before.

Sōma took another deep breath before carefully cladding himself in the persona he knew Azami would be expecting. That of the completely devout and obedient False God's Tongue. He looked up at Azami, his eyes sharp and hard.

"Greetings Nakiri-sama."

"Welcome back, Sōma-kun."

Azami's smile was wide for all that it rang with falsehood.

"It's good to see that you are still in working order, so to speak."

Sōma looked down at his hands, flexing them once more. He kept the elation and joy he felt at seeing his hands, just his and no one else's, off of his face.

"The conditioning was a complete success, Nakiri-sama. Your caution was warranted, it seems."

Azami nodded, turning and beckoning for Sōma to follow him. He continued to speak as they walked, the hallways empty but for the two of them.

"I'm not a fan of taking unnecessary risks, Sōma-kun. Life is filled with surprises and a rigid plan with no allowance for variation is a doomed one. You must always have contingencies. And contingencies for when those fail you as well."

"I agree." Said Sōma, thinking of the carefully laid plan he'd started out with upon his return to Tōtsuki. And how quickly it had been altered beyond his imagination.

"Be that as it may, I find myself asking; why exactly did you see the need to attack me, Sōma-kun? I was aware that your mental stability during your…sabbatical was far from ideal but we both know just how badly things could've gone if you'd succeeded."

Sōma felt his fist clench, his fingernails digging into his palm as he thought back to seeing Azami's hands on his sister. He kept his expression controlled however.

"I am not certain myself, Nakiri-sama. The past few months are rather hazy, just as you advised me they might be. I'm unable to give a clear reason. My apologies."

"Hm. I see. Well, that is the issue with the triggers. They're quite useful, I'll admit, but it is irritating that their very nature keeps the shell itself from growing alongside the host. I shudder to think of all of the work that is ahead of me with Erina."

Sōma paused in his steps, his expression one of open surprise. By the time Azami turned around, his mask was back in place.

"Something wrong, Sōma-kun?" asked Azami, watching the young man carefully.

Sōma blinked, furiously debating how to respond as he continued holding Azami's stare, his expression giving away nothing. Finally, he opened his mouth and responded, placidly.

"I believe the initial terms of our agreement forbid any contact between you and Erina-sama." Said Sōma.

Azami arched a delicate, dark eyebrow.

"Come now, Sōma. I am a man of my word. I made it very clear that I would not so much as speak to Erina as long as your father continued to work at Tōtsuki. However, considering your loss to her and that port town girl, his tenure will be up in a few short weeks. So, in the interest of ensuring that whatever nonsense you had planned doesn't come to fruition, I've decided to terminate his contract early."

Sōma felt his heart start to race but he clamped down on the impulse, willing himself to stay calm with the core of steel he'd developed as the False God's Tongue.

"I'm sure Saiba-senpai will thank me. He's made his feelings on being here quite clear, after all."

"Yes, my father is not accustomed to being tied down for any length of time." Said Sōma. "I'm sure he will welcome the opportunity to travel once again."

"Indeed. Be that as it may, I suppose I will simply need to find some other way to reawaken that side of Saiba-senpai. The side of himself that your mother saw fit to get rid of. Such a troublesome woman."

Sōma didn't flinch in respond to the gibe. Externally, anyway.

"I wish you could've known him when I did, Sōma-kun. He was something spectacular. He laid waste to chef after chef, ruthlessly crushing the competition. He would've been the first seat of the Elite Ten if he'd bothered to try and dethrone Dojima-senpai. Perhaps he thought the effort would've been beneath him? Who knows? Even then, Saiba-senpai was difficult to understand at the best of times." Said Azami, smiling fondly as he thought of his high school days.

Sōma didn't comment, choosing instead to continue walking silently after Azami while he struggled to maintain appearances and process the fact that everything had changed once again. He knew Erina wasn't ready. She hadn't had the time. A few months in a dormitory, even one as special as Polar Star, wouldn't have made her strong enough to resist Azami if he truly came calling for her.

He didn't let the irritation he felt at his father show. He still didn't see what could've possibly made him think Erina was ready to confront Azami so soon. After having gone through just a portion of what she did first hand, Sōma could say, with absolute certainty, that Erina wasn't prepared. His bonds with Azami had been built on pain and fear, temporary emotions. Erina's bonds were founded in her love for Azami as her father. Familial love…that was a bond with an entirely different level of strength and Sōma was sure that, if Azami said the word, Erina would be his.

Even knowing all of that, Sōma didn't see what he could do to stop him. The second Azami delivered his termination contract to his father, Sōma lost what little leverage he had. And in his role as Azami's newly obedient aide, he could do nothing to openly go against him. That would just lead to Azami changing his plans yet again and disrupting Sōma's even further. And things were already precarious enough, as it were. As it stood, the only saving grace was the lack of talent in the 91st Generation. There was a distinct lack of challengers that could truly contest his allies' strength. But all of the skill in the world wouldn't matter if Azami felt threatened and changed the rules to suit his whims yet again.

Sōma was going to have to get creative if he didn't want everything to come crashing down around him.

"Ah, here we are." Said Azami, stopping in front of his office door. "I'll be just a moment, Sōma-kun. Wait out here for me."

Sōma nodded, watching Azami enter and shut the door behind him. He also heard the click of the lock engaging.

Sōma immediately pulled out his phone, beginning to dial. He paused mid key stroke, looking down at the cell phone in his hands. It was the sleek, black model he'd received from Azami once he'd entered his employ. He'd never tested the theory but he'd always assumed that anything he did on it had the potential to be monitored.

Sōma pocketed the phone, thinking carefully. He needed to play the part of "obedient lapdog" to the hilt. Contacting anyone right now, when Azami would be at his most suspicious, wasn't the right move. He needed to be loyal and servile; he needed to be the emotionless, obedient aide Azami expected after invoking his trigger.

He just hoped that he'd be able to do that while still ensuring everything went will with the Selection. He had faith in his friends and his allies but he hoped that the sudden shift wouldn't cause them to doubt him. Or themselves.

Sōma put a hand to his head, groaning as he leaned against the closed door way. He massaged his temples, grimacing at the dull pounding he could feel on the inside of his skull. Maintaining the façade day in and day out had proven much more stressful than he'd first thought. It had only been a week but it had been a week of strict discipline and utter focus. He couldn't allow himself to slip at all when in the presence of Azami or any of the myriad of staff that worked for him.

This also meant that Sōma hadn't had the chance to connect with any of his allies and assure them that, despite appearances, things weren't nearly as hopeless as they seemed. Though he was still at a loss as to what he could do for Erina. The thought of not being able to help her gave him a sensation of almost physical pain and it had taken everything he had to keep himself together when he first saw her dull eyes and rigid posture.

And then to go on for hours on end, working alongside of her and being forced to pretend that everything was fine had left Sōma with a headache that had been slowly gaining in intensity throughout the course of the day. He doubted the strain had shown on his face but it was difficult to be completely certain; nothing ever was with a man like Nakiri Azami.

Sōma stood to his feet, still continuing to massage his temple with one hand as he loosened his tie with the other.

He wondered if Alice had noticed his return; he'd spent the past week at Azami's facility being submitted to a battery of tests to ensure that none of his competence or intelligence had been lost when Azami had invoked the trigger. He'd been careful and exacting in his results, to the point of perfection that he knew was expected of him and Azami had been pleased to see that his newest "creation" was still fully functional.

It was only now that Azami had deemed it appropriate for Sōma to return to his rooms in the Nakiri manor; he trusted that Sōma was fully and completely under his control. Regardless of what his niece or his former friends attempted.

Sōma debated reaching out to Alice but he couldn't be completely certain if Azami didn't have agents or cameras planted in new locations as a contingency plan. It was too risky for him to contact her just yet. But he knew that she knew; she had to. He'd seen the look in her eyes as she walked off. If no one else, Alice knew that he was still on their side.

Sōma's phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking him from his thoughts. He picked it up and glanced at the screen. Hayama's name was on it.

Hayama snapped his phone shut, stowing it away in his pocket. He crossed his arms and returned his gaze to the men standing across the threshold of the Shiomi seminar. They were led by Azami's head of security, Hideki, who held a crisp, stamped paper in his hands.

"Come now Hayama-kun, please stop being difficult. This notice bears both Azami's personal seal and the Tōtsuki Administration's seal. This isn't a negotiation; this is an eviction, plain and simple. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"This doesn't make any sense, Hideki-san." Said Hayama. "As per my loss to Yukihira weeks ago, the Shiomi seminar is an officially recognized part of Central. We even put up a new sign for the occasion."

Hayama pointed up, drawing Hideki's eyes to the large sign proclaiming the name of the seminar. At the very top most left corner, there was a hastily drawn rendering of Central's logo.

Hideki pursed his lips and looked back down at the eviction notice.

"As…touching as that is, I'm afraid I must insist. Now, I've given both you and Shiomi-san ample warning a-"

"You call half a day ample warning?" commented Hayama mildly.

Hideki frowned at the interruption but continued speaking after a brief pause.

"I've given you ample enough warning. We're not unreasonable people. There's been more than enough time for you and Shiomi-san to gather your personal effects and shut down any ongoing research projects you have running. If you do not comply within the next five minutes, I'm afraid I have no choice but to get law enforcement involved and that would place a large amount of undue stress on us all. Not to mention expense. So, if you would?"

Hayama didn't respond. He simply continued staring at Hideki, his green eyes unwavering.

Hideki stared back, his eyes narrowed as he held the notice stretched out towards the younger man.

Several seconds of silence passed. The construction workers behind Hideki shuffled nervously, sensing the tension but remained quiet.

Hideki lowered the paper with a sigh, shaking his head.

"If that's how it must be, I suppose I'll just have to call the proper authorities." Said Hideki.

"I would hold off on doing that, if I were you, Hideki-san." Said Hayama.

"And why is that, Hayama-kun?" asked Hideki, raising an eyebrow.

"I feel that Yukihira would have something to say on this and I understand that his words hold some weight with Azami-sama." Said Hayama.

"Even if that were the case, Yukihira-kun isn't here right now." Pointed out Hideki, gesturing to the empty yard surrounding them.

Hayama simply pointed to his ear, cocking his head to the side.

"Do you hear something, Hideki-san?" he asked mildly. "Because I hear a rather distinct noise; the sound of a moped engine if I'm not mistaken. And I rarely am."

"If this is some attempt to stall for time, it's a rather nonsensical one. I'd thought better of you, Hayama-kun." Said Hideki. "Now, step aside or else I'll have to…"

Hideki trailed off as he noticed that the previous silence of the outdoors was slowly being supplanted by a distinct sound; a sound that seemed to match exactly what Hayama had said.

Sōma pulled up before the Shiomi seminar, bringing his scooter to a stop before the small crowd. Planting the kickstand, he stood up, dusting off the jacket of his Tōtsuki uniform. His cold, golden gaze swept over the crowd, causing some of the men to almost instinctively shy away, despite having no idea who the red headed teenager was.

"What's going on here, Hayama-san?" asked Sōma, glancing over at his ally. Hayama met his gaze, gesturing towards the group of men led by Hideki.

"According to Hideki-san, the Shiomi seminar is being shut down and Jun and I are being evicted." He said calmly. "I explained to him as best I could that there must be some sort of clerical error."

"Yes. A clerical error." Said Sōma, eyes scanning the array of construction workers and the officially stamped notice in Hideki's hand. "Hideki-san, would you care to explain to me exactly why decisions were made regarding my seminar?"

Hideki arched a blonde eyebrow skeptically.

"Your seminar, Yukihira-kun? I believe you may be misunderstanding something. Just because you were the tool used to win the seminar over, that does not grant you ownership."

"You're right; it wouldn't if it were as simple as you say. But I would have you refer to the Reallocation Order."

Sōma reached into his jacket, withdrawing a few worn from inside of it.

"Specifically the section discussing the terms and conditions of my victory over any clubs that chose to align themselves against Central and thus offer themselves up to be potentially purged."

Sōma flipped through the pages, before placing his finger at a specific line.

"Any organization that loses their shokugeki appeal in which Yukihira Sōma acts as Central's representative will be forced, after a due amount of time, to give over all rights and assets to Yukihira Sōma on Central's behalf. He will remain in sole control of the organization for the remainder of his tenure at Tōtsuki."

Sōma lowered the papers, his cool stare boring into Hideki.

"The terms were quite clear. The Shiomi seminar is mine."

"And you are Azami-sama's, Yukihira-kun. You follow his every command, do you not?" asked Hideki.

"I do." Said Sōma, unmoved by the borderline accusation.

"Then why do you stand in my way now, when this was done exclusively at Azami-sama's orders?" challenged the security head.

"Because I do not believe this is a decision to be made in haste and will discuss this with Azami-sama at the nearest opportunity." Said Sōma. "Until I've had a chance to do so; you and your men may exit the premises."

Hideki frowned but relented, placing the notice back into his folder.

"Azami-sama will not be pleased." He said.

"Azami-sama is the most intelligent man I have ever met." Remarked Sōma. "I am sure that he will have no issue giving the matter further thought at my request."

"You presume greatly, Yukihira-kun."

"That I do. Now leave, Hideki."

The dropping of the polite honorific was deliberate, as was Sōma's flat stare. Hideki scoffed but turned, gesturing for the men to follow him as he marched away. Before he got too far, he paused.

"By the way Yukihira-kun; Azami-sama mentioned to me that he had the pleasure of meeting your partner during the fourth trial. He was surprised that you'd foregone the partnership that had been assigned to you as a member of Central."

"My partner proved themselves inadequate; I do not use inferior tools." Said Sōma sharply, clenching the fist that was hidden in the crook of his arm. His face remained unaffected and calm however.

"Of course, of course. Azami-sama was simply curious as to where you had acquired this…superior tool." Remarked Hideki, looking over his shoulder to fix Sōma with a suspicious glare.

"I am not yours to question." Said Sōma. He shifted his bearing, a slight adjustment by most standards but one that did much to increase the tension in the air.

Hideki turned back without a word, shrugging.

"As you wish, Yukihira-kun. I look forward to seeing how you plan to justify this insubordination to Azami-sama. Come gentlemen, let's take our leave."

Sōma watched the men go until they were barely visible figures in the distance. He then turned to Hayama, who was leaning against the door jamb of the seminar. He was eyeing Sōma with a neutral gaze, his arms folded.

"I believe we have some things to discuss. May I come in, Hayama?" asked Sōma, inclining his head slightly.

Hayama shrugged but stood up, gesturing the red head inside.

"It's your seminar, isn't it? Why are you asking me?"

Sōma walked into the door, looking around at the cluttered interior. He heard the door shut behind them and he turned to face Hayama, who was still watching Sōma carefully.

"I trust we're alone?" asked Sōma.

"For the most part. Jun worried herself into exhaustion this morning over that notice and is sound asleep in bed."

"I see. And there's no one else present?" asked Sōma, glancing around despite having already ascertained that the main hall was empty.

"No one. It's just us." Confirmed Hayama.

Sōma took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled. He put one hand behind his head, scratching at it in a carefree manner. He opened his eyes and grinned at Hayama, the familiar expression of mischievous joy catching the Sultan of Spice off guard.

"Great. We got a lot to talk about and some messages I need you to deliver. Grab a pen, Hayama."

Joichiro yawned, stretching as he sat up from his tatami mat. He scratched idly at the stubble that was ever present on his chin, getting to his feet with a soft groan. He wasn't that old but he definitely remembered simple things like getting out of bed being a whole lot easier a few decades back.

He opened the door to his room, his keen nose immediately picking up on the scent of miso soup, rice and eggs. Someone was cooking. He had a fair guess as to who.

He wandered into the kitchen, grinning as he saw Kumi at work at the stove, doing her best to stomp and sulk around the kitchen while still ensuring the meal was prepared well. Even if it was a mandatory part of her grounding sentence, there was no way Kumi would disrespect food enough to let that interfere with her preparation of it.

"Morning Kumi-chan." Said Joichiro, taking a seat and crossing his legs at the table in the center of the front room.

Kumi didn't respond; she continued to prepare the food silently, though they both knew she had heard him.

"Come on Kumi-chan, you can't give me the cold shoulder forever. We're gonna have to talk about this sooner or later." He chided.

"You and Kaa-san didn't seem all that eager to talk when you brought me home last week." She muttered, slamming a cupboard door as she held several bowls in the crook of her other arm.

"Well, can you blame us? You disappeared Kumi. Without a word. Do you know how terrified we were?" asked Joichiro, raising one eyebrow. His temper had long since cooled though he could still feel irritation rankling just beneath his skin. "Nine year olds aren't allowed to just wander Japan by themselves."

"Nine and a half." She corrected rebelliously, ladling the miso soup out into even portions.

Joichiro rolled his eyes but conceded.

"Fine. Nine and a half. But my point still stands."

"Nii-chan needed my help. And family always comes first." She spat out, swinging around to face her father. She held the ladle in between her hands, wringing it almost to the point of snapping. "Isn't that what you always say? That family is everything?"

"It is." Said Joichiro firmly. "But that doesn't mean you charge in blindly and put yourself at risk. Otherwise all you're doing is potentially making things that much worse. What if something had happened while you were in Tokyo? Your mom and I wouldn't have had any idea where you were or what happened; do you know how that would have made us feel?"

"Nii-chan needed me. And so I went." Said Kumi sharply, doing her best to ignore the guilt that her father's words had spawned in her heart. She hadn't thought it through, if she was being honest. She'd been worried and concerned about Sōma for months on end. Her mother was always telling her that there was nothing she could do and that she needed to let her big brother handle things. And that of course everything was going to be alright. And of course she shouldn't worry.

And about a dozen other clichés that parents told their kids when they didn't want them to worry.

Kumi was too smart for that; she wasn't assured at all by her mother's words. If anything, they made her even more concerned. She'd seen an opportunity to help and she'd hopped on it, almost without thinking. It hadn't been smart. She'd realized that the second she'd met that man.

Kumi flinched as she remembered those deep black eyes and that ghostly pale face. It was like something out of a horror movie. She'd seen pictures of Nakiri Azami before, of course she had, but seeing him in real life, standing before her with that picture perfect false smile…it had been a harrowing experience.

She felt a large hand on her shoulder and she turned, burying her face into her father's side as he wrapped his arm around her.

"Listen. Sweetie."

Joichiro sighed, running his other hand through her hair.

"I know. I know how you must feel; trust me I do. Sitting in the back seat's no fun. And think about it; it's even worse for me. I'm Sōma's dad. I'm supposed to be the one protecting him and making sure he's safe and I have to watch him go at this alone, just like you do. That…that hurts. It really does. But we have to do this. Sōma made his choice and he's seeing this through, one way or the other. We Yukihiras are stubborn like that."

Joichiro smiled, ruffling his daughter's hair. He tugged at her forelock playfully, earning himself a giggle and a swat to the offending hand.

"Right now, all we can do is be there for Sōma when he needs us. And I've got a feeling that's gonna be a lot sooner than he thinks. So sit tight, alright kiddo? No more harebrained schemes; I need you to look after mom once I'm back at Tōtsuki after all." He said, smiling.

"It's hard, Tou-san." She said softly, fisting her hands in Joichiro's night shirt. "I just…this thing that nii-chan's taken on…I…I believe in him. He can do anything. But…what if he can't this time, tou-san?"

Kumi's words were echoes of the exact same fears Joichiro held deep within his chest but on the outside, he smiled down at her and radiated confidence.

"This is Yukihira Sōma we're talking about, Kumi-chan. He'll be just fine, just you wait and see. Before you know it, Azami will be ancient history and we can go back to being the family we were before all of this craziness."

"But things will be different then, won't they Tou-san?" asked Kumi. "Because of that girl."

Joichiro frowned at the neutral, indifferent tone with which Kumi had said 'that girl'. He took a step back, placing his hands on his daughter's shoulders. She looked away from him, crossing her arms petulantly.

"Yukihira Kumi. I thought we were past this." He said sternly.

"You're past it. I'm not." She said shortly. "Nii-chan's risking what we have for some…some stranger."

"Erina is not a stranger." Said Joichiro. "She's family. You know that."

"Why? Because Kaa-san says so? I didn't say anything to her at the challenge but I didn't need to; it's obvious what kind of person she is." Said Kumi, folding her arms even more tightly. "A stuck up, selfish princess who's used to being waited on hand and foot. She probably has a million servants or something. She looks like the type."

"And how would you be judged, if you were judged based on your looks, Kumi-chan?" asked Joichiro simply.

Kumi paused, taken aback. She opened her mouth but then closed it again, at a loss for words.

Joichiro reached forward, tugging again at the pale white forelock that hung over her face. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of her hair that was a deep black. And her pale, white skin contrasted even more, giving her features that were almost ghost-like.

"You can't assume you know everything about someone just by looking at them. Erina's had a difficult life. Not in the material sense, yes. But money isn't everything and you know that. She's grown up alone, with no one but Senzaemon-sama at her side for ten years. And he tried; Kami knows he did. But even he could only do so much. Especially with Nakamura hanging over her life the way he did."

"I know you're probably feeling jealous. And a little selfish. You're nine and a half years old; that's perfectly normal. But is that worth not helping someone in need; not helping a member of our family that needs us?"

A new voice sounded, answering Joichiro's question.

"No, it's not. And Kumi knows that, don't you dear?"

Kumi frowned, turning to face her. She sighed, letting her hands fall to her side.

"I…I guess so, kaa-san." She admitted grudgingly. "But she better appreciate everything nii-chan's doing for her or I swear I'll…I'll…"

Kumi trailed off, as she tried and failed to come up with a suitable punishment. Joichiro chuckled, patting her on the head as he went to reclaim his seat at the family table where three breakfast sets were meticulously laid out.

"You'll think of something, Kumi-chan, I'm sure. For now, go and eat. I'll join you in a minute." Said her mother, tousling her daughter's hair as she walked past with a large grocery bag held in her arms. Her mother entered the kitchen and began placing groceries into the appropriate areas, humming softly to herself as she did so.

Kumi contemplated going to help before remembering that she was angry at her mother for punishing her. So instead, she went and sat down opposite her father, folding her legs neatly beneath her. She picked up her chopsticks and bowed her head briefly.

"Itadakimasu."

She began eating her rice, taking even, almost delicate bites of her food. She looked up at Joichiro, who was sitting with his legs folded, idly twirling his chopsticks around his fingers.

"You know kaa-san doesn't care if you wait on her to eat. I don't understand why you keep doing it." She said, cocking her head at him.

Joichiro shrugged, the wooden sticks dancing between his fingers as he continued to twirl them.

"I don't mind waiting. You can't properly share a meal with someone if yours is half gone by the time they start on theirs."

Kumi shrugged, continuing to methodically work her way through the modest breakfast spread.

Joichiro heard the pattering of feet behind him and turned to grin over his shoulder.

The woman had bright, rich blonde hair that just barely grew past her shoulder blades. Most of it was tied into a high ponytail although there were two bangs of it that curved around the side of her face, framing her cheeks in an endearing, though somewhat peculiar way. She had eyes the color of lilacs set into a regal face with high cheekbones.

She had the bearing of a noblewoman, though the jeans and pink t-shirt she wore didn't exactly fit such a description.

"Waiting on me again? I told you; there's really no need."

Joichiro shrugged, smiling warmly.

"And yet I still do it, every time. Maybe if someone would make their way to the table on time for once…"

The woman laughed, walking forward and sitting at the low table, folding her legs much like her daughter did.

"Guilty as charged, I suppose. Maybe one day I'll actually beat you to the table, huh?" She said, picking up her chopsticks.

Joichiro shrugged, pulling his apart with a snap as he grinned at her.

"Somehow I really doubt you will, Katsumi-chan."

A/N: As always, read and review! Lemme know your thoughts! I'd love to hear what you guys think of this chapter. Some important and subtle (and other not so subtle) hints were dropped after all!