Kaleidoscope

Chapter 3: The Path We Pave

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this weird plot.

Warning: Some sexual content, but then again, isn't that what brought you guys here in the first place? Also, lots of emotional-heaviness ahead.

A/N: Grab a drink guys, it's 26 pages long and very Erina-centric. Hope it was worth the wait!

Like most things, it started out innocent.

It was New Year's Eve and the Polar Star dorm was throwing a party. Black and gold streamers draped the walls and ceiling, an abundance of food lined the tables, and not one person lacked a drink in their hands.

That being said, Nakiri Erina wasn't used to ingesting the amount of alcohol that had been thrown her way. She would never admit it aloud, but she was indeed a lightweight, and the annoyingly pulsing headache she had indicated she wasn't drinking enough water.

She made a quick escape out the front door to get a breath of fresh air. Outside, the night was quiet, the scenery calm, and there was a light flurry of snow that paved the ground. She almost regretted coming out, with her boots contaminating the immaculate blanket of white, but the chill cleared her mind, and being away from the crowd lessened the pounding in her head. While she enjoyed being around friends for the New Year for once, she was still unaccustomed to the affection that came with it. When people got comfortable, they asked questions, and she was never good at expressing her feelings.

Erina pinched her temple between two fingers and rubbed gentle circles, hoping to further subside the pain. In hindsight, she should've grabbed a water on her way out.

As if answering a prayer, a water bottle jutted into her vision. She snapped her head up and whirled around to see none other than Yukihira Soma grinning at her.

"Looked like you needed it," he explained nonchalantly, gently pushing the bottle into her hands. She accepted it gratefully and nodded a thanks to him, expecting him to turn around and head back to the party. Yet he remained standing there next to her, hands in his pockets.

She took a moment to sneak a peek at him. He had gotten just a bit taller, just a bit leaner, and just a bit (and she means, just a very little bit) more mature. Her hatred for him was no longer there, not when they'd been through so much together. She would never forget how he helped her fight against her father, how he listened to the story of her childhood, how he supported her despite all the cruel things she used to throw at him. She should really thank him one day, but her stubbornness always prevented her from doing so. He never seemed to expect one from her though. If anything, he seemed to almost enjoy that part of her.

Their relationship was a bit strange. They were always arguing about one thing or another, but their arguments never held any underlying hostilities. It was simply how they interacted with each other, and it was the closest thing she had to fun aside from cooking. Alice had a tendency to drop comments such as "You two should date already," but Erina always brushed the idea away. It wasn't like that. She didn't know how to let someone get that close to her.

She wasn't in denial, despite how she might portray herself to her cousin or to Hisako for that matter. She also wasn't dense. She saw how Yukihira would linger behind the rest of the group after Elite Ten meetings just to tease her a bit. She was aware of how she'd slow her pace when leaving classes, giving him just enough time to catch up to her so that they could walk to their next class together. The actions weren't intentional or planned, but a seemingly unspoken agreement to be near each other.

Attraction, was it?

She could hear the rustling inside grow louder, and she suspected that midnight was fast approaching. Yukihira must have noticed the same thing, as he pulled out his phone.

"30 seconds," he murmured, glancing at his phone screen before turning back towards her. "Hey, Nakiri-"

The redhead stopped short, looking slightly dazed before breaking out a smile. He gave a light chuckle, stepping towards her and brushing something cold off her nose.

"You've got snow on you," he said endearingly, probably in response to her questioning look. She could feel her cheeks heat up at his proximity, but the warmth was much welcomed in this frigid air, and she did not flinch away when his fingers lingered on her cheeks.

The chatter and laughter from inside the dorm grew louder, yet the noise fell deaf to her ears as his fingers traced the outline of her lips.

"Yukihira-kun," she whispered, almost afraid to interrupt the moment, but she wasn't mellowed out enough to not understand what their situation was leading up to. "What are you doing?"

The look he gave her was smoldering and full of want.

"Have you ever gotten a New Year's Kiss?" he asked, and she momentarily registered the countdown beginning in the background.

Ten…Nine...

"No."

Eight...Seven...

"Would you like one?"

Six...Five…

"Are you offering?"

Four...Three…

"If I may."

Two…

"Yes."

One.

His right hand cupped the back of her neck and the other pulled her flush against him. Her palms flattened against his chest before fisting into his clothes. Their lips met hurriedly, a chaste kiss, before melding together in a slow passion.

It was exhilarating.

Even though Erina knew that their schedule overlapped quite a bit, she became quite aware of just how much during the next few days. With the exception of one elective, their class schedules were a mirror of one another.

To a third party's point of view, their interactions didn't appear to have changed. They still partnered up in class, still bickered which combination of flavors would be better (and let's be honest, with her God's Tongue, she always won those debates). But to her, she noticed how he stood just a bit closer. And to him, she was sure he saw the hesitation in all her actions.

She just didn't know what the kiss meant. According to all the shoujo manga she read, the boy and the girl would start dating and build a close relationship with one another. Sometimes it was the other way around, as she had witnessed with Alice and Kurokiba. But no matter how she reasoned it in her head, she and Soma did not fit either archetype. She couldn't fit the archetypes. She couldn't, didn't know how, to be kind and open up her heart. If anything, the thought made her want to run back into her cage and lock herself in.

Worst of all, she didn't know what he wanted. Sure, they had a comfortable companionship. They worked well together despite their more-than-occasional differences. He challenged her to go beyond her comfort zone, and she set a high bar of expectation for his skill as a chef (one that she knows he will hit, not that she would ever tell him that). And sure, she found him to be somewhat easy on the eyes, and she certainly didn't view herself as below average in the looks department. So really, she was not the last person in the world he would want to kiss. There were many men and women alike who would pay for her physical affection.

But Yukihira Soma wasn't that kind of person, and she knew this fact like the back of her hand.

These mental debates were driving her insane, and she was set upon putting an end to them.

At the end of one of their Elite Ten meetings, where he lingered behind once again (funny, how Hisako seemed to conveniently disappear at times like these), she grabbed onto the sleeve of his uniform and tugged him a bit too aggressively towards her.

"Whoa, what's up, Nakiri?" he said so nonchalantly, despite having to hop a few times to regain his balance.

She glared at him. "You. Are. Insufferable."

And to her annoyance, he merely laughed. "You say that, but you do a good job of putting up with me."

"Like I have a choice," she huffed, letting go of his shirt in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. He waited patiently for her to get to her point, though she was pretty sure he already knew the reason.

Sighing, she dropped her hands to her sides and looked away from him.

"About...About New Years Eve, when you k-kissed me…" She trailed off, not sure how she wanted to proceed with it, despite having practiced her lines over and over again.

From the corner of her eye, she could see him tense for a split second before relaxing against one of the meeting chairs, ever the more composed. "What about it?"

She didn't understand how he could always be so calm when she was a flustered mess. It grated her nerves. But despite how much he aggravated her, she did value him as an ally and a friend, and she didn't want to lose that. She was tired of hanging in a weird limbo with him.

So she faced him, steeling her resolve.

"Look, Yukihira. I'm not sure...why you did it. But if you're looking for some kind of...meaning to it...I can't…"

So much for having resolve.

She wanted to convey to him that in some sense, she cared about him, much like how she cared about many of the people in the Polar Star dormitory that housed her in her time of need. And while she knew that he was just a bit different from the rest of them, she didn't understand why. Again, maybe they were attracted to one another, but that, too, lacked much meaning to her. What did it mean to really care for someone else? She couldn't answer that.

But the words never came out of her mouth, and she looked at him, hoping that he could somehow grasp what she was poorly attempting to articulate. There was a brief silence where he contemplated something she couldn't decipher. She fully expected to dive into some kind of debate with him, ready for him to make fun of her in the usual way. But the only thing he did was give her a somber smile.

"It's okay, Nakiri. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Her father didn't run the school anymore, but his shackles were still clasped around her neck. Like iron clamps chaining her to a wall, she couldn't escape, and instead, slowly suffocated within his claws.

It was shameful, really, when everyone had worked so hard to free her from his grasp, only to have him latch onto her tighter, and this time, from the shadows. All the more cunning and ever the less conspicuous, she didn't know where or who to run to.

He had a plan for her, one that awaited her graduation, when she would no longer be under the protection of the school. He had prepped her when she was younger, training her God's Tongue, and he was all but ready to carve her into the masterpiece he desired. With his chisel and gouge sharpened and gleaming, she knew he didn't care how much she would have to bleed to become his perfection.

Images of being his broken, bloodied puppet plagued her dreams; it was pitiful how he didn't even have to be physically present to torment her. She could hear the condescendence in his tone, hear how he called her worthless without his conditioning, hear the threats he made about those close to her.

"I can take away their dreams, Erina."

It made her thrash in her sleep.

"One phone call, and everything their family ever worked for would be incinerated."

Her nails would unconsciously dig into her skin as she fisted her blankets.

"And that boy. Especially that boy. He'll never step into the cooking world again."

And she would wake up in a cold sweat.

This night should have been like all the others, where she got up, grabbed a drink of water, and stared at her ceiling until pure exhaustion drove her back to sleep. It should have been like all the others, where she bit her tongue and held back her tears. Even when alone, she struggled to maintain her composure, because she didn't know what would happen if she allowed herself to dissolve into a debilitating mess.

But the face of a certain red haired chef kept coming to mind, and she found herself reaching for her phone.

And unlike any other night, she called him over.

"Is everything okay?" he asked after she had successfully snuck him into her room. They sat across from one another on her four poster bed and she was struggling to put into words why she had woken him up in the middle of the night.

No, she wanted to scream, not when she knew her father was planning something sinister, not when she could barely sleep through the night.

And yet, somehow, during the midst of this, she could not stop thinking about him.

"My father…" she started with great difficulty, and to her surprise, his eyes steeled immediately and he grabbed her by both arms.

"Are you okay? Did he come by here? What did he do?" Yukihira rambled on, and the worry and adamance in his tone caused a cozy feeling to bubble in her stomach.

"I-I'm fine," she managed to squeak out, and he visibly relaxed and retracted his arms. She found herself leaning in, her body seeking his warmth. She coughed; straightened her back. "I had a dream—a nightmare of sorts. He hasn't spoken to me since he left the school, but I can't help but feel like something is amiss. Like he's planning something."

There must have been a waver in her tone because he looked at her with a mixture of concern and determination.

"You know none of us will ever let anything happen to you, right?"

She never understood where he got his unwavering confidence from, how he could be so sure that the challenges he faced would resolve in his favor. It wasn't how she functioned. No, she knew what her skills and assets were, and she knew what domains she would be victorious in. So while she believed he had her best interest in mind and a part of her wanted to bask in the comfort he was offering her, she was also aware of how unrealistic it was.

Then what, pray tell, was she doing?

She couldn't recall moving but her hand was braced next to his knee and she was a breath's width away from his lips—the lips that had kissed her just mere weeks before. The lips she had found assurance and solace in.

She should have asked, but he didn't push her away in her brief hesitation, and she didn't suspect that he would've considering he initiated their New Year's exchange.

So she closed the gap between them, her free hand reaching up to grab a fistful of his shirt. His response to her was immediate—a twisting of limbs to draw her closer—and she toppled over him in her attempt to climb onto his lap.

"Erina," he breathed. She shuddered within his hold.

Their gazes locked onto one another and she saw the myriad of emotions playing in his eyes. Concern, desire, and something she didn't know to name. They made his usually bright, sunkissed orbs melt into molten gold, and the sheer thought that she was responsible for the change set a craving in the pit of her stomach.

"Make me forget," she ordered softly, fingers creeping underneath the hem of his shirt. His chest rose from beneath her at his sharp inhale and his hands snatched her wrists to stop their ascent.

"Nakiri," he said, voice strangled, "are you sure?"

If she ever saw a turning point in her life, this would be it. This would change things between them for better or for worse. She didn't like letting people get close to her but he was here. He came when she called. Came to her even when she confessed her ignorance with emotions. And he had said—

"You said it doesn't have to mean anything, right?" she clarified, looking down at him with a mixture of uncertainty, yearning, and resoluteness. He managed a slow nod, and she responded by leaning into him and kissing him again.

When she ran into him in the halls that next morning, he shot her a smirk emulating old times. It caught her off guard initially, reddened her cheeks, but she then sent him an imperious smile in return. Their banters in class were a little more jubilant and she didn't shy away when he stepped unnecessarily close to grab an ingredient on her side of the counter. Something felt like it clicked into place. Perhaps he was always meant to stand by her.

They slipped into a routine with ease and for months, it stayed steady. Stolen kisses in the day time and midnight rendezvous that allowed her to explore his body and him, hers. It was thrilling, mystifying even, to learn what brought the confident transfer student down to his knees, what baited him to lean into her touch, what compelled his fingers to bruise her skin. And he—he drew out pleasures she didn't even know existed, hands mapping her skin and committing into memory the spots that had her gasping don't stop. It was almost a battle of power and wills—who could get the other to surrender first?

She quickly learned he didn't need the God's Tongue to satisfy her.

"You've been awfully happy recently, Erina," Alice chimed during lunch one day. She was without Ryo so that they could have a "long overdue girls talk." Erina would deny it if asked, but she wasn't sure she had enough wits in her to effectively circumvent the questions her cousin would surely bring up.

Next to Erina, Hisako nodded. "I agree. It shows in the dishes you cook too!" The memory of said dishes had the aide keening.

"I wonder why?" Alice wriggled her eyebrows at Erina, "Maybe due to a certain redhead that's been hanging around you more often lately?"

Erina couldn't beat down the blush that instantly colored her face. "You're speaking n-nonsense, Alice!" Curse her stuttering. "We're First and Second seat—of course we work together often! Besides, someone has to keep him in line."

"In line or in bed?" the gastronomist countered and even Hisako couldn't suppress her smirk. Neither were deterred by the threatening glare they received in return.

"We are strictly professional," the Totsuki heiress insisted, fists slamming down on the table.

While the rattling didn't seem to phase her cousin, Alice narrowed her eyes. "I certainly hope not."

Before Erina could, once again, protest, she waved her hand, gaze softening. "It's okay to let yourself feel for once."

Erina wasn't sure if Alice was conceding that she, Erina, currently only had a platonic relationship with Yukihira, or was still alluding that they already had something more. She decided to not tip it either way.

"You say that, but I don't even know what to feel."

There was silence as both her friends seemed to observe her, and then Hisako put a reassuring hand over hers. "We just want you to be happy, Erina-sama. And you should let yourself be happy. You deserve it."

Be happy. You deserve it.

They both looked at her so earnestly that Erina didn't have the heart to repeat that she didn't really know what those words meant.

Growing up, she was told she should be proud to be a Nakiri. Every fame and fortune she received would be well deserved. People respected her. People praised her. As the possessor of the God's Tongue, she made people fear her as well.

And she had worked hard for it. She endured her father's teaching to become the masterful chef she was. She deserved to stand at the pinnacle of the cooking world.

But happiness? What was that? Was it cruelly telling people that their food was disgusting? Was it tarnishing people's hopes and dreams, laughing as she demolished their careers?

Was it having people at her beck and call, knowing that whatever she wanted, she could get? Was it having Yukihira beneath her because she figured out how to coax him into submission?

The heroines in her shoujos found happiness in love. They chased after boys who captured their hearts and achieved fairy tale endings.

But heart was not something she was taught to have and love was an abstract concept. Her grandfather loved her. Hisako and Alice loved her. If she applied that familial and close relationships fostered love, then her mother and father would love her too, but they didn't. Regardless, none of those types of love appeared to be the same as the one portrayed in manga.

Love from a boy. Love from...Yukihira? Would that bring her happiness? And even if it did, was it really her birthright to deserve happiness after she ruined so many of others?

To the world, she was elegant and sophisticated, stern, and confident. Those same traits also got her scorned. Aristocratic, jaded, harsh, arrogant. For every compliment she received, she received twice in critiques. She denied none. In the deep recesses of her mind, she knew the truth. She was weak—a marionette at her father's fingertips—and all the bravado she portrayed was just that: a show.

And she hated it. She hated it all. Her immaturity, her naivety; the lack of control she had over the events in her life. Behind her facade, she was despicable, was she not? Was that not why her own parents refused to show her affection? For all that she achieved, she never won them over.

So what was happiness, what was love, when family didn't love her and she didn't know how to love herself?

Her phone rang. Otou-sama flashed on her screen.

Don't answer it, she told herself. Don't pick it up.

Still, her arm reached out. Still, her fingers curled around the device. Her thumb hovered over the green button before, inevitably, pressing down.

Weak.

It was not a bad habit if this was how they began. At least, that was what she told herself. She wondered if he thought the same as he pulled her into his embrace. She told him about the phone call but not the contents of it. He had helped her once, was supporting her again, and that was enough. Ignorance could be bliss. He was pompous, but he was pure, and she dared not taint the radiance he illuminated. That radiance might be her only glimpse into happiness.

Instead, she lost herself in his touch, and hoped that he, too, was distracted enough to not ask questions.

If she could love, she would love him.

The thought came to her in a chaste kiss, much like the one they first shared. An empty Elite Ten room where he lingered behind again, just to steal some alone time with her. The usual teases, a flick on her nose, his signature grin—their routine had her feeling uncharacteristically mushy on the inside. But she kept her usual smirk and nudged him on the shoulder as they slowly packed their bags for their next class.

Before the doors opened and they were just the First and Second Seat again, he gently tugged her to him and planted a small peck on her lips.

"See you later," he smiled, and the tenderness in his tone and the shine in his eyes all but made her heart stop.

She knew then just how deep in the water she was. What was supposed to be a casual wade along the shore was threatening to become a full submersion as she was lured deeper into the sea. But why? She already deemed him an important friend; how did he transcend that? Was it the intimacy? Didn't he say it didn't have to mean anything?

She couldn't—she shouldn't. She wouldn't know what to do if she did.

Then don't do it, Erina.

When they met that night, he was excited to see her; it was obvious in his eyes. They shimmered just a bit brighter when she walked into his room, and while he tried to hide it as mischief, the way he swung her into his arms expressed anything but. It left her breathless.

Before he pulled her to bed, he served her a dish. Another one of his egg creations as if he was honoring their first encounter. It made her laugh though she kept it muffled behind her hands to keep from exposing her illicit presence in the dormitory. And then it made her stifle a moan at the opulence it instilled.

When she put the empty bowl down, his golden orbs were still sparkling. She gave no feedback, no praise, certainly not the one he so desperately sought for, but he tugged her onto his lap and cupped her cheeks within his hands.

The air around her stilled. Was this it, was this what love was like? Was the fluttering in her chest the onset of happiness? He gave her a sense of contentment and a reprieve from prying eyes. With him, she felt weightless, like her burdens never existed and the rest of the world didn't matter. It was unrealistic. Ludicrous. She wanted it all.

She wanted the way his lips caressed hers, slow and gentle. The way his fingers entangled into her hair, soft and soothing. His touch was reverent, seeking to please, and she basked in his ardor.

He moved to taste the skin at her nape and guided her hips until her back was to his chest. The hand that slid up her blouse was warm, the one between her thighs, scorching. They were still on the floor but she couldn't bring herself to care while he was kneading the flesh beneath her brassiere.

His finger slipped between her folds and she arched into his hand, but the firm hold on her hip kept her grounded. He used his own legs to spread hers and her head instinctively fell back against his shoulder. Through hooded eyes, she saw him watching her with an attention she thought he only had for cooking. But then she could focus no more as his fingers dipped inside her.

When she came, her vision pulsed white. His lips met hers hastily to smother her moans and stayed there until her body stopped convulsing. When they parted, he gave her a long, unreadable stare before kissing her again.

Eventually, they discarded their clothing and made it onto the bed, but he thwarted her attempts to pull him over her. Into the dip of her pelvis, he murmured something she didn't catch and it mattered not what it was when the moistness of his tongue pressed against her. It was hot, vulgar, and she saw stars.

She was still floating, but her body told her to anticipate the trail of teeth and tongue making their way up until his lips were back on hers, and inside the cavern of his mouth, she could taste herself. It was strange, neither pleasant nor displeasing, but he seemed eager to share. Then his fingers were in her, stroking, tugging, and the hand that was lost in the wildness of her hair tightened to angle her head to better fit his. When she gasped for air, his gaze was transfixed on her, and mirrored within the glow of his eyes was a sight she was unfamiliar with.

Hair rumpled, lips swollen, glassy violet behind blown pupils—a far cry from the prim and proper heiress she was groomed to be. She felt raw and exposed in a way laying bare never subjugated her to.

And yet, when he finally, finally, gathered her into his arms, and buried himself into her with all her disheveled glory reflected in his eyes, the word beautiful escaped alongside his breath, and it somehow felt more intimate than everything they'd done before.

Maybe, just maybe, if she did love him, he could love her too.

Jealousy was not a term nor emotion she was well acquainted with. Neither was envy. She was Nakiri Erina, possessor of the God's Tongue. Heir to the Totsuki throne. Born with both beauty and grace, she had everything. Even her shortcomings did not make her covet the belongings of others.

And yet, as she watched Tadokoro Megumi with Yukihira Soma, the small town girl with the small town boy, she saw much of what she lacked. Where she was poised, Tadokoro was genuine. Where she was fierce, Tadokoro was kind. For all the apathy Erina carried, Tadokoro showed compassion ten-fold. And Yukihira—obstinate, reckless, overzealous—would do better with someone who could bring him calm and tranquility, not someone who riled him up to new heights.

She heard the whispers. She knew what people said about them—all three of them. Nakiri and Yukihira would be the power couple. Yukihira and Tadokoro would be the high school sweethearts. There were even betting pools going around.

But they were missing a crucial point: what they saw of Erina was what she displayed; a painted image was not difficult to glorify. Yukihira, on the other hand, had seen her at her worst, and who in their right mind would love someone like that?

Why would Yukihira Soma, who had Totsuki's population of girls at his feet, choose her?

She tore her gaze from the two when the throb in her chest became too uncomfortable to bear. All this time, she was deluding herself into thinking she had a chance. Convenience was just an easy option.

Biting down on her tongue, she decided it was fine. Nothing had to change. It didn't have to mean anything.

(Lies, Erina.)

She was afraid to ask why he continued to do what he does with her.

The bed creaked beneath them as she rocked against his hips and enticed her name from his lips. Her movements were slow to draw out his moans, each a little breathier, each full of need. He clutched her waist as he grew impatient, threatening to bruise her skin, and then drew blood on her lower lip when she leaned down to kiss him. His eyes blazed dangerously with unbridled desire, and she knew she had him latched to her.

Because she was an enigma. Because she was a queen. Because she could give him this one thing he couldn't get from someone else. Not the way she could, at the very least.

But when he flips her over, putting her on all fours and grabbing a fist full of her hair as he thrusts into her, she thought maybe it was really because Tadokoro Megumi was too pure and too perfect to be defiled by him in the ways she had allowed him to do to her.

And when they laid side-by-side, his sweat having long dried from her skin, she wondered if she had been Megumi, if she had been the small-town girl to his small-town guy persona, he would be making love to her instead.

The fish market was bustling when they arrived. As they went from stall to stall, debating between cod, salmon, and mackerel, they lingered close enough to not lose each other but far enough to not hint at anything more than friends. She scolded him when he suggested putting shrimp crackers into their next dish even though she knew he would eventually win that argument. In turn, he let her pick halibut as their protein of choice for the main course. It wasn't a date, but it was close, and Erina allowed herself to feel a small bit of excitement.

As they rounded the corner, three kilograms of halibut in hand, her excitement came to a screeching halt as they came face-to-face with Tadokoro Megumi and Aldini Takumi, both of whom were carrying their own set of bags. Erina put on a cordial smile, ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach, and greeted the two with a nod.

Yukihira was considerably more rambunctious with his greeting and slapped both of them on the back. "Tadokoro! Takumi! What brings you here today?"

Aldini rolled his eyes, "Shopping, obviously," and then turned to her, "Nakiri-san, it's good to see you."

Tadokoro seemed momentarily conflicted before plastering a smile on her face. "Soma-kun! Nakiri-san! What a coincidence!"

"More like fate!" Yukihira nudged the girl on the shoulder and her eyes automatically brightened at the touch. "Ay, Tadokoro, this would be a good time to discuss your upcoming exam with Chapelle-sensei, wouldn't it?"

"Exam?" Erina interrupted, half curious and half trying to bring his attention back to her. Unfortunately, it was Aldini that answered.

"Oh, yes," he said, speaking in an unusually careful tone that had Erina raising an eyebrow at him. He didn't acknowledge it. "Tadokoro-san did mention it was just a couple of weeks away. I believe Yukihira said he would help out."

"That's right," the chef in question grinned and then turned to her. "I was thinking we could use the classroom's workstations after hours for a three-day crash course. What do you think, Nakiri?"

Publicly, he was asking her permission because she outranked him, even though they all knew it wasn't really necessary. Covertly, he was telling her he wouldn't be spending those three evenings with her. Her jaw locked briefly before she straightened her back.

"Just be sure you leave things exactly as you find them. I don't want to hear any complaints that will give the Elite Ten a bad rep," she commanded haughtily, flicking her hair over her shoulder for added measure. He smiled at her gesture, looked like he could hug her, but didn't.

Instead, he grabbed Tadokoro by the wrist and dragged her to a nearby stall. Then, when he noticed her arms were being weighed down, he took the bags from her hands and barred any protest. Tadokoro blushed profusely and gave several small bows as a thank you. These actions were repeated when he tugged her close to steer her away from the crowd. The distance between the two was much, much smaller than Erina and Yukihira's had been just minutes before.

Erina couldn't help but stare. Next to her, Aldini sent her a grim look. She didn't know what to say, what to deny, so she said nothing at all.

He doesn't love me.

The repeated mantra sunk to the back of her mind as his lips caressed hers again and again. A velvet touch, soft and supple. A heated breath, giving and stealing. He was warm and inviting, intoxicating even, and she was drowning in his abyss.

Her hands clawed against him, frantically peeling his shirt off to feel the ripples of his back. The coolness of his skin sated her like an oasis did thirst, but the pulse between her thighs told her it wasn't enough. Long legs hooked around his hips to draw him closer, closer, closer, and the amplified fiction forced a groan from their tethered lips.

She had long since lost count of the amount of times they've found each other in this tryst. Most of the time, it was in her bedroom, sometimes in his, but the moments during the school day were increasing in frequency. Today, it was in an empty classroom.

She didn't know where the desperation came from, the need to feel him against her, so much that it couldn't wait until they reached the sanctuary of her room. Her attempts of tempering her emotions were futile against the way he so easily reignited them. She took solace in knowing she wasn't alone, that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, that she was the one solely responsible for that growl in his throat as she grinded into him. It made her feel powerful.

He had her pressed against the wall, one hand on her ass and the other on her thigh as his teeth nipped at her neck and her nails dug into his shoulder blades. And then, in one swift movement, she was on her back on one of the lecture hall desks. Her legs wrapped around his torso to bring him closer, and his hands were quick to loosen her blouse.

There was a pressure in her chest, a dull ache that continued to warn her to trudge carefully. Again, she pushed aside the feeling in favor of the ones of his fingers skimming up the bare skin of her thigh. They hooked around her panties and pulled them down just low enough to give him access. But before he pushed into her, before she forgot reason, she reminded herself again.

He doesn't love me.

Her Grandfather loved her; that she knew and could see. He stared at her gravely as she stood before him in his office, one hand stroking his beard.

"It has come to my attention that your father has another plan in the works. Another way to bring you back under his control, it seems." He paused, studying her. "I am worried, Erina. I had hoped when we drove him away, he would stay away, but I see now it only strengthened his resolve."

"I am aware, Ouji-sama." She swallowed. "I've been in periodic contact with him."

Nakiri Senzaemon did not appear surprised at her confession and merely nodded solemnly at her.

"And? Do you desire to go back to that life, Erina?"

She panicked, "Absolutely not!" The tremble in her legs were instant and she had to fist her hands to keep them still. "I never...never want to go back to that."

She hated how powerless she sounded. Hated how powerless she likely looked as she kept her gaze planted at her feet. Was her grandfather disappointed at her cowardliness?

There was a long, weighted pause before he spoke again.

"My precious granddaughter, it seems that the Nakiri name does nothing but tether you to a predetermined life. Might you consider an alternative?"

She slowly lifted her head. "What are you suggesting?"

"As your guardian, I can only protect you until you come of age. I'm afraid if I let you graduate as you are, with the baggage our family has surely brought you, Azami will find a way to snatch you up again." Erina wanted to protest, but there were no faults in his words. "I believe if you are given a new start, you will make a name for yourself."

"A new...start?" Her eyebrows furrowed. "A new...name? Are you saying I should drop the Nakiri name?"

He nodded and she found no indication that he was joking.

"Once you become someone you, yourself, is proud of, you may choose to retake the surname, if that is what you wish."

"And where would I go to do that?"

"Europe. The Americas. Anywhere your heart desires." Her grandfather gestured to a stack of papers on his desk and her eyes all but bulged.

"Really?"

Her mind was reeling. Discard the Nakiri name? The empire she grew up in? The throne she sat upon?

"I believe you have the strength and potential to become much more than you already are."

She wanted to talk to Yukihira. She wanted his opinion. It surprised her how much she actually valued it, how he came to her mind before Hisako or Alice did.

She was dialing his number before she could stop herself. It rang once, twice, and then the call connected.

"Yukihira—"

"Nakiri! This is new. You don't usually call." She warmed at this recognition. "I was just on my way to meet Tadokoro in the kitchens. What's up?"

It was ridiculous how fast her heart dropped. It had no reason to. Tadokoro was sweet and she knew he was helping the girl with an upcoming exam. She knew this.

And yet, her fingers clenched tighter around her phone.

"I...just wanted to make sure you weren't giving her any foolhardy advice." She forced a laugh, burying the truth as she so often did. "You're hardly considered reliable."

He huffed into the receiver. "I am Second Seat. And I've been working and learning from the best for a while now, so you have to give me some credit. Or at least give yourself some."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she understood he was complimenting her, but her desire to speak to him had gone down the drain. "Whatever, Yukihira," she scoffed, emulating her usual haughty demeanor, "We'll see the results in a couple of days."

"Don't worry. I won't disappoint."

She hung up because funnily (or not), she was already disappointed.

And then she smiled wryly to herself because why did she call him in the first place? Why would his opinion matter? Had she not already decided that they could be nothing more than friends?

But the call did remind her of the hole she had been digging herself into. By trying to get herself out of one bottomless pit, she dug herself into another. It was ironic. How inept could she be?

No, she refused to lower herself more than she already had. She would make this decision for herself.

It had been three days since she'd seen him outside of classes. Within those three days, her whole future had been changed, and at the corner of her desk sat the proof; her elegant signature proudly displayed.

She had decided to pursue her own self-improvement. This knowledge had butterflies fluttering in her abdomen in equal parts excitement and nerves. A new beginning. She could do this, couldn't she?

Her phone flashed with a reminder that she received a message. She didn't need to check it to know what it said. He was on his way over, and she felt a sense of dread.

She would tell him tonight. This thought made her want to vomit. She had recited her lines though she doubted that it would do her any good. She would be professional about it. She would make it so this break in whatever relationship they had would be clean. She didn't mind if he wanted to continue their intimacy until her last day, but she would cut off her feelings here.

A tiny voice inside her head whispered: How would he react? Would he miss her?

She heard his footsteps before she heard the turn of the knob. Heard the rustle of his clothing before he made his way to her. She felt her resolve break as his hands slid onto her shoulders in a familiarity she realized she would soon no longer have.

And so she let him cradle her and hated how tender and affectionate he was despite the way she lashed out at him. She let him, demanded him to, take her to bed because something told her that this was it.

He laid her down and listened to her pleas. Moved against her slowly, then rhythmically. He was so gentle with her that she pretended, just for a moment, that he was making love to her.

If love was happiness then both were short lived.

He started avoiding her after she told him the news. Started flaunting Tadokoro everywhere he went and she honestly didn't think she had ever experienced anything more agonizing. She'd known who the better choice would be, but she couldn't temper the anguish of being so suddenly replaced. Had he never cared for her at all, not even a bit?

What was especially embarrassing was that everyone seemed to notice. She had to constantly ignore the questioning gazes and deliberately avoided Alice's incessant inquiries. Only Hisako knew about the transfer, and then Hisako knew about everything else once the distraught hit Erina hard enough to make her crumble.

"It was a pretty convenient arrangement for me too."

Was this a part of love too? Did it have the power to bring in as much pain as it did joy? His words were ice to her; crept up her fingers like frostbites. They ate into her limbs, turned her torso into a glacier, and swallowed her heart whole. She cried and hurt until she was simply numb.

Hisako engulfed her in a hug, a physical closeness that hadn't been dared before, but Erina found solace in it. "Erina-sama, I meant it when I said you deserved happiness. It doesn't have to be with him. It can be with yourself. You need to love yourself first."

"Love myself?" The thought had crossed her mind before. Out of all the loves, that had been the most obscured to her. "I don't—How?"

Hisako's smile was kind. "You just have to see for yourself how wonderful you truly are. I think I agree with your grandfather. The change might be good for you. And you know I'll visit often." Erina felt the arms around her tighten. "Do you regret your decision to leave?"

She shook her head vehemently.

She made her choice and she was going to go through with it. Nakiris did not take back their words. Even once discarded, her legacy still ran through her blood and she had all intentions to eventually retake her mantle.

She carefully extracted herself from Hisako's embrace and straightened her clothing. She voiced her conclusion to her aide, who beamed at her confidently, and decided she would halt her tears for now. There was still work to do and she was still a Nakiri, and she had never been one to let her reputation be tarnished.

With Yukihira, she conceded that if he wanted nothing to do with her, she would oblige. It was better this way. Their lives were too different to ever be shared for long.

But she'd be lying if she said she hadn't hoped he would try to stop her.

She finally announced her transfer to the Elite Ten. They argued about who would take her place. He stayed perfectly aloof. Her nails all but drew blood within her palm.

Alice tried to intervene. She stopped her. Told her it was all fun and games anyway and fairy tales only existed in storybooks.

The news spread rapidly throughout the whole school. The betting pools changed. Some were mournful about her departure, some looked at her with pity as they put two and two together. A small sum thought she deserved better; the rest thought she never deserved him at all.

The student body was divided and she decided that it was good that she was leaving. Better to abdicate than to fall to a coup.

Erina was thrown against the wall before she could see it coming, her cry stifled only by the sheer horror that enveloped her at the sight of her father.

"O-Otou-sama! What are you—"

He grabbed her wrist. Hard.

"You're abandoning your name? What foolishness is that?" Somehow, his grip tightened even more. "I've built an empire for you and you're just going to throw it away?"

"Otou-sama, you're hurting me!"

Her father's dark eyes glowered down at her. "Ungrateful child. Come, we're going to get these contracts annulled." His fingers found her wrist again and she winced; a dark ring had already begun to form. If he noticed, he did not show it. With as much effort as she could muster, she sharply yanked her hand back and the force tumbled her onto the ground. Even as he stared disdainfully down at her, she glared defiantly back.

"I'm not annulling anything. Everything is finalized and I am leaving." It was more difficult than she was willing to admit to not flinch under his scowl. He raised a hand and she threw both arms up to defend herself.

"AZAMI," a voice boomed, and Erina's shoulders sagged in relief as her grandfather came thundering in with a group of security guards. Her father looked displeased but didn't put up a struggle as he was escorted off the property. She blocked out the profanities he continued to throw at her.

Her grandfather offered her a hand but she stood up on her own. She then thanked him for his assistance and assured him that she was fine. At the end of it all, she refused to cry.

She wasn't surprised when Yukihira challenged her to a shokugeki, not after he made an abrupt return to her life. It was so like him to think that problems, especially the one at hand, could be solved through a cooking competition. But she humored him, if only to hear what his conditions were.

"If you win, I'll do whatever you want. If I win, I want you to stay."

It made her laugh in disbelief. How did he have the audacity to ask her to stay after how he treated her?

"I accept," she had said, "on one condition." He raised an eyebrow, almost nonchalantly, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "When you lose—"

"That's a little presumptuous of you."

"When you lose," she repeated, emphasized, patience wearing thin, "don't follow me to where I'm going."

His jaw grew slack and she almost pitied him. She did pity him, knowing fully well that he could not possibly win the trial he set for himself. He was a strong chef, undeniably talented, but too easily swayed by his emotions. She had full faith that whatever dish he'd conjure up would be appetizing, but she doubted he understood how much was at stake for her. So what if he was remorseful, so what if he hadn't been fully aware of the turmoil he put her through? She had already made her decision, and Nakiris did not go back on their words. That, she would make sure of.

Before he could retort, she forced a smirk onto her face and ignored how her fingers dug into her crossed arms. Later, she might wish he had come to her sooner. Later, she might let herself dwell on what-could-have-been. Later, she might re-evaluate her choice but come to the same conclusion nevertheless.

But now, she was Nakiri Erina, and she knew how to put on a brave facade when she needed to.

"I'm sure you know how to show yourself out."

"I think he loves you."

Erina spat out her drink but Alice didn't seem fazed as she continued talking. "Ryo thinks so too."

"W-What gave you that idea?" she sputtered in response, wiping up the mess she made. Her cousin arched an eyebrow.

"He asked you to stay and that was after breaking poor Tadokoro's heart."

The table threatened to crack under the weight of her arm. "What?"

"It's true." Alice unwrapped a lollipop and popped it into her mouth. "You haven't been around to see it but there's definitely tension there. They barely go ten feet within each other and Tadokoro looks distraught."

Erina was at a loss. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Even you are not that dense, my dear cousin."

"It's just." Her jaw clenched. "He never—this whole time—never showed any inclination—"

Alice shot her a disbelieving look. "But he did before, didn't he? Before he found out?"

Erina thought back as far as she could. His gentle touches, the adoration in his eyes. She had suspected but she had never been sure. They all seemed to pale in comparison to the ease he presented next to Tadokoro Megumi.

"Maybe?"

Alice rolled her eyes and shook her head exasperatedly. "There's no maybe, Erina. You're just blind or in denial. Or both."

"I resent that."

"Resenting doesn't change facts."

A silence settled between them. Erina fingered the lining of her napkin while Alice rolled her lollipop back and forth between her fingers. She momentarily studied Erina with an inquisitive gaze before sighing.

"Look, I'm not saying to forgive him or take him back or whatever. And I'm actually happy that you seem to be doing just fine throughout all this. But did you ever stop and consider that perhaps you've been hurting him too?" Erina bit her lower lip and Alice gave her a pointed stare. "He's been chasing after you since he first got here. You were practically his purpose to succeed. What did you think would happen after you left?"

"I-I don't know. He has so many friends, so many people around him all the time—"

"—And all he looks at is you." Alice threw her hand up at Erina's flabbergasted expression.

She didn't need this now. She was finally braving her situation. She didn't cry after her encounter with her father, didn't cry after Yukihira cornered her in the hallway nor when he rudely intruded into her room and demanded a shokugeki. She had decided she would hold herself high. She was Nakiri Erina and not anyone, especially not a peasant, would take her down. And she was going to make sure everyone knew that before she left.

But now Alice had her considering an alternate explanation to their situation and she didn't know how to reconcile the differences. She thought herself a victim, but had she been the villain this whole time? Had she taken the radiance she once adored and squandered it?

"You really never thought…?"

"No. Yes. Not recently. Not now."

She didn't want to consider that he could have, might actually have, loved her because the kindest thing she had left to give was to extinguish his hope. She never had any intentions to stay, regardless of the outcome of the shokugeki. There would be no happy ending.

And as if Alice could read her mind, she said, "I'm never wrong, Erina."

Both Erina and Soma knew what the outcome would be the moment she presented her dish. It would be a humiliating defeat for him, one that would surely follow him for years to come. A punch in the gut that his best was still not enough, may never be enough.

The main ingredient was an egg. She had thought it would be fitting that the very item that allowed him into her life would be the same used to acquiesce her leave. Perhaps it was cruel, but being kind had never been her forte.

His eyes were downcasted while her head was held high as the judges tasted her oeufs en cocotte. This was the difference between her and him, and she wanted him to see it, for everyone to see it. They were never meant to share the same stage.

"...You're really going?" His voice was so low she barely caught his words, especially over the excited murmurs of positive critiques. "To somewhere I can't even see you, much less reach you?"

In that moment, she realized how heavily his loss actually weighed on him, that Alice was right. Because his loss meant he lost her, and the implications of it flashed so clearly she felt foolish for missing it before. It was devastating because she knew that sentiment all too well and he did not need to be feeling it towards her. She was tainted, she was broken, and she was not worth it.

"We have the sea between us. You were never going to reach me," she said in what she hoped was a scornful, imperious tone. She would stamp out his feelings at the cost of her own if she had to.

The judges declared the verdict: a unanimous 3-0 in her favor.

The stadium was full of spectators but silence was the only sound that permeated. At her win, she received no cheer because that was also the difference between them.

The car pulled up to the airport and he stood at the entrance as if he had nothing better to do—which was definitely not true because she knew the amount of paperwork piling on his desk. He waved at her nonchalantly, his idiotic grin plastered on his face. If only that smile reached his eyes.

"Yo, Nakiri," he said as if she hadn't just served him a crushing defeat the evening before. "I guess this is it, eh?"

She nodded. "It is."

"You still won't tell me where you're going?"

She scoffed and shook her head. "As if I would risk you appearing out of nowhere."

"What makes you think that?" he asked, taking a step closer, hands tucking into the pocket of his jeans.

"What?"

His eyes were sharp when they met hers, piercing through as if daring her to lie. "What makes you think that I would follow you?"

The air was stifled in her lungs. It sounded like he was trying to pull some kind of acknowledgement out of her, and she realized that might be because they never discussed what transpired between them. Even so, now was hardly the time to do it.

"Y-You're so competitive. I can't imagine you sitting still after losing to me so many times," she said instead, dodging the words she knew he desired.

He studied her carefully, as if assessing if she actually thought that, and then bobbed his head as if to say, "you're right." But then he looked away, peering through the windows of the airport, and she might have felt his disappointment less had he vocally called her bluff. Still, she took the opportunity to change the topic.

"How does the First Seat feel?"

"Like I don't deserve it."

His response was instant and she wasn't surprised. She had known he wouldn't be satisfied with how he obtained his upgraded position, but no one else was able to supersede him for it. "Maybe one day that'll change."

His eyes fixated back on her. "I can only hope."

Irritation prickled her skin at the terseness of his replies, but she willed herself to remember that she probably invoked it. The least she could do was try to reassure him.

A sigh. "You deserve it more than anyone else there and everybody knows it. Perhaps a congratulation is in order. It's what you've wanted since day one."

"It was," he admitted. His gaze remained trained on her, observing, contemplating, then, "I guess it's not enough."

She didn't dare ask him what he considered enough.

Silence permeated the space between them and she shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. The airport was busy, but not overly so, and she didn't have the excuse of needing to rush to her flight. She almost bid him a flat goodbye anyway just to escape the awkward tension, but then he laughed humorlessly and proffered his hand.

Erina eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, glancing between Yukihira and his outstretched appendage before taking it in a firm handshake. Her suspicion was confirmed when his fingers tightened around hers the moment she tried to withdraw. Her head snapped up, glare already in place, but faltered underneath his gaze. Sundrop orbs flashed determinedly at her.

"I don't regret anything, Erina. I hope you know that." His teeth grinded together as if he was struggling to control what he wanted to say. "You were always so far out of reach. I had really hoped that, by graduation, I would be standing proudly next to you, or at least be one of the few to give you a run for your money. And now…" Now it can't happen. "Now, Totsuki won't be the same without you."

Her heart thudded painfully within her chest and for the first time in weeks, she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. "Yukihira—"

"One day, I'll catch up," he declared resolutely, shooting her a smirk. It still wasn't as genuine as his usual, but it was getting there. "That's a promise."

I'll make you say it's delicious!

It was stupid how effortless it was for him to put her at ease. Part of her wanted to laugh. The other part wanted to throw her arms around him for old times sake and relish in the feeling of having him hold her again. Perhaps she could even steal a kiss because what was a kiss compared to all they've been through? Who knew how long it would be until they saw each other again? She had no doubt they would meet; it was only a matter of when.

Erina released a shuddering breath, pushed back her tears and desires, and allowed a small smile to spread across her lips. Her hand was still in his grasp, and his in hers, and when she squeezed, he matched her intensity.

"I'll hold you to it."

She stared outside the plane's window and imagined him still standing at the entrance, hopeful that she would change her mind, but then she laughed quietly to herself at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought. Had this been a romance novel, he might have. But then again, any romance novel would have the hero with the heroine, and not the villain she surely was.

Besides, she knew the change of pace would be good for her, knew her father's teachings had stifled her and her potential had yet to be reached. Perhaps she had limited herself by idolizing a man who lived in a world so different from her own, and then clinging to his son because he offered her a semblance of love and peace.

No matter; she had made her decision. She would return once she was able to stand on her own two feet. Once upon a time, she was a queen on her throne, sitting upon the highest pedestal of Totsuki. But that throne which was forced upon her and her reign, while ironclad, was not one she was proud of. She aimed to start over as best as she could. The Nakiri name was infamous, but she would be a nobody without it. She would show all that she was more than a pretty face attached to near-royalty, more than the tongue she was gifted with. She was talented, but she had also worked hard, and for once, she desired for others to see that.

When the world heard of her name again, when she took it by a storm, she'd be untouchable, unstoppable, and would have achieved it through her own efforts and power.

And then maybe, just maybe, after all was said and done, she'd finally learn how to love herself.

Word Count: 10,356

SPECIAL THANKS: to applecherry and ninag95 for proofreading this for me! Would not have had the confidence to post this without their feedback and encouragement. applecherry, in particular, spent quite a few days on this with me, tweaking and refining, and actually fleshed out/wrote some of the first smut scene. Can we give them a round of applause please?

Also, THANK YOU. So many of you have left reviews over the years and several have personally messaged me to check on the progress of the story, and they all fill me with so much joy. I'm sorry it took so long but I was not lying when I said I wasn't giving up on Kaleidoscope! Thank you for your dedication—it kept me writing even while I was in a rut trying to grind this chapter out.

I won't make promises on what will come next, but if all else fails, you will get an epilogue. There's a lot of character growth that occurs between the end of this chapter and the epilogue though, so I imagine you'll receive something in between as well, but we shall see. I'm posting a really long author's note on my Tumblr about my thought process for all this and some clarification as to why I chose for Soma or Erina to react in certain ways. My username on there is intangiblyyourswrites and all my writings are tagged "intangiblymine" so head there if you're interested and want to have a conversation.

I know I say this with everything I post, but please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! This chapter gave me so much anxiety (3 years, 26 pages, and lots of late nights at the end to finally finish it), so I want to know: was it what you expected? Did it fill in the gaps for you? What did it make you feel? How do you think this will all end and whose POV do you want to see next?

Moral of the story is that there are people envious of you even if you don't realize it. So love yourself and stay strong, stay healthy, and stay safe!

—Intangibly Yours