Soma threw his head back and let a healing scream out. "Finally! Sweet light at the end of the tunnel! We have arrived!"

"The ride wasn't that long, Soma." His father chided as he nodded goodbye at the bus driver.

Akira offered a bow and a thank you, polite animal that he was, before skipping off from their mean of travel.

The driver dipped his head and closed the door to his kingdom. The engine revved and off the hellish machine went, to Soma's relief and happiness. Begone, fool metal beast!

Soma bounced around to face his sire's placid face. His numb legs crumpled under him and he finished his jump on his knees, doing an action anime pause to stay upright. "Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuut up." His yell hid all the pain he felt coming from his uncovered knees against hot concrete. "It so was."

"Let's go." His father shook his head, exasperated.

Soma wanted to chide him; Dad, you're way too old to act like a teenager. 'Rolling Eyes' was a powerful weapon for teenagers only. On other people, especially older, it just looked plain stupid. They did not have the awkward angle or the right flair for it. Soma, being a teenager inside a tiny body, had a special permission to use it freely. Given by Yukihira Soma to Yukihira Soma, of course.

He could also use the 'I'm-so-done-with-you' ™, normally reserved for adults. After all, he was almost an adult if one counted the years he spent on Earth, cooking delicious dishes and scaring poor souls. His old teachers loved to use it when he was present at school. For some reasons, they would often do it while facing his vicinity.

At one point, Soma had thought his teachers were all mediums who could see ghosts. Now, he knew they just couldn't voice how awesome they though he was, so they obligated their face to morph into a mask of annoyance at their own non-awesomess ways. They were tough peeps alright.

Akira, sweet and sour little ray of sunshine that he was, was adjusting the straps of his bag on his shoulders. He was indeed using the adult trademark Soma had claimed ownership over, but it was okay. Akira had a special permission to use that one given to him by Yuhikira Soma. He won that privilege after one too many horrible decoctions put under his nose by his mischievous brother and mad scientist father.

The adult-but-not-chef fabricated a contract for him that they had both signed after Soma had nagged him for a day or two. The contract was exceptionally good-looking; it had flowery characters and gilded contour. It had been a fun afternoon of craft for sure. There was a sort of smudge on the top left corner though. However, if Soma was honest, and he had been with his brosido, it really just was him trying it out in modern art and discovering he was awesome in that subject too.

Akira had proudly showcased his newfound and Soma's approved frown at that comment.

Soma crawled from the ground to his bro's side. He climbed his bronze legs, nimbly avoided a shift of leg that could have been a kick if Akira weren't just the best human in the world, and patted his bro's shoulders enthusiastically. "You think like me, right! The ride was way too long. Seeing his face," Soma pointed his ugly father's mug with a snarl, "did not help at all."

Akira mutely took their father's offered hand.

The duo left the first son in the dust.

The older Yukihira might have sent his biological son a triumphant grin and smugly arched eyebrow.

They were currently competing in a game. A very difficult game with high stakes and high risks. The Game, for it had no name yet, was simple. They had to do everything in their power to make sure Akira liked one more than the other. All of that in the hope that he wouldn't one day decide that, really, his adopted family was too weird for his tastes and leave. It might have something to do with easing him in their little cooking circus they called a family, but, well, Soma and Joichiro were not that sappy.

They just really liked to compete. That's all.

Soma bounced on his father's heels, arms acting as makeshift noodles of joy. "Ryokan time!"

The older Yukihira walked faster, firmly dragging his newest son. If anybody asked, he would answer that this red-haired devil of a child that waltzed in the middle of the street was certainly not his offspring. He hadn't raised his son that badly. Then he would point Yukihira Akira and puff his chest, because what a well-behaved and knowledgeable child he had raised all by himself! He was so, so proud.

The three idiots trudged through the small city by the sea. Nobody really knew how it obtained its status as a city, seeing the small number of people who populated it and the small size of the town. It was a little spot between the mountains and the sea, stranded there and still living through time by some miracles. Soma had never been in such a remote place in Japan before (his time in Totsuki did not count anymore. Things that hadn't happened in this new reality couldn't count.).

After 10 minutes of rather intensive walking that turned into half-jogging at some point, they found themselves in front of a venerable ryokan, standing on a rolling hill, windows facing the sea. Soma breathed in the salty air and smiled.

It looked cozy. It resembled Tadokori's chopped comments about her home. It looked like her. Warm and tranquil. He wondered if he would find a hidden treasure somewhere in there. It didn't need to be there. He would be content to simply catch a young girl with long black hair and a fiery love for ping pong in his net.

Speaking of ping pong...! Soma threw his bag on the ground.

Akira tugged Joichirou's hand once, ringing a alarm bell. His brother was acting weird, well, weirder than usual. The elder man answered the call dutifully. They stopped to observe the crimson-haired boy who was snickering madly.

"Wait for him." Akira ordered and so that's what they did. Joichirou held his new son's hand happily, because, honestly, that one was way cuter and more obedient than the one who was ransacking his bag like a madman, knees on the ground.

Mentioned madchild opened the zipper of his bag hastily and rummaged in it until he found what he wanted. Under comfy underwears and nice little white socks he could wear with his sandals to spook people's good fashion taste, his hands caressed plastic and hard wood. A snicker left his chest. He needed to test his skills against hers! And win. Or die trying.

Winning would definitely be better an outcome, though.

Joichirou tugged Akira forwards. "Let's go. He's good."

The elder Yukihira did not comment about the fact that people were not so subtly stopping in the middle of the not frequented road to observe Soma's antics.

The duo went inside while Soma righted his shoulders and put his bag under his arm, ping pong paddle pressing against him and keeping the gaping bag somewhat upright. He was going to have so much fun. The sea! Tadokoro! Akira! Cooking! Bothering his old man! All at the same! Place!

It was a shame that Somei and Isshiki couldn't tag along, but Soma still counted his blessings. Plus, they might have frightened the sweet girl with their weird habits. It wasn't everybody that could deal with Isshiki's way of going around life. He used complicated honorifics with every people he met and their mother. And the bows. The bows never ended.

Isshiki was lucky that Soma liked him to bits. He had only thrown a knife at him ONCE after he had called him 'Soma-san' one too many times.

Soma shuddered. 'Soma-san', coupled with Isshiki's gleaming teeth, became the materials for realistic nightmares.

The fish enthusiast little chef was... okay, when he wasn't overly fanboying over his mother's sushis and overall perfection. Soma thought he had seen the boy not talking or thinking about his mother at least twice. Both times, it lasted a few seconds, probably.

...yeah.

The youngest Yukihira couldn't understand that, but he could respect the intensity of it. That explained the way older, scarred, bushido-is-the-way Somei would behave later. He invested himself wholly in things he believed in. Right now, his mother was the person that shouldered his sky, mind and kitchen. He ought to find new things that could expand his cooking horizon. It wasn't an urgent matter, though.

Soma had a few things he could give to his fishie friend to slowly unravel his cooking powers. Peanut butter and fish sounded devilishly unacceptable to mortal ears.

Soma gripped his pingpong bat. Time to test his skillz and win. He lifted his bag and bounced through the open door.

"I defy you, Tadokoro!"