A Prickly Erina is the Best Erina

18:20 - Polar Star Dorm - Before the Promotion Exams

"It's your turn tonight, eh?"

Yuki's busy stirring a mixture of herbs and berry compote into her sauce when he walks into the kitchen. It's cold out, but he's been feeling restless, his mind a flurry of activity. He'd gone for a run three hours ago – and when the endorphins had failed to clear his head, he'd taken a turn in the gardens with Isshiki-senpai, who'd been harvesting some vegetables for the night's dinner.

Yukihira Soma is exhausted, but he can't imagine he'll have a better time sleeping tonight.

"Oh, you brought in the tomatoes!" Yuki is vibrant as always, beaming as she reaches for his basket.

The beefsteaks had started flowering before the whole Central ordeal. He manages a bare smile at the memory of that morning – now but a distant memory. The reality is that barely two months have passed. The plan had been to harvest the tomatoes whilst they were still green, and to fry them up in batter and stack the slices with mozzarella, basil, and reduced balsamic vinegar. I guess we've all been a little bit occupied.

He rubs at the back of his head with his exercise towel. Yuki hands him a cup of tea, and he meanders over to her station to peer into her bubbling pot. "That's the exact opposite of what Nakiri told you to do."

Yuki giggles. "Yes, but she's more herself when she's yelling. You should've seen the way her face got all red last night as she was telling Daigo off!"

"That Nakiri really is something," He chuckles. "But she does seem to be getting better." And really, she does. Her cheeks have more colour in them. She's started bothering with her hair again. A few days ago, he'd caught a glimpse of a smile.

It had been directed at Tadokoro, but it had still struck him senseless, warming him to the core.

He doesn't know what bothers him more – that Nakiri is here, or that he has no idea how to save her as per the Food Demons' King's instructions. These Nakiris sure are demanding.

He watches her across the dining hall at dinner. Nakiri Erina has always been a prickly sort of person, and that continues to be true, even in the company of the ever-effervescent Yuki. Still, he has to admit that she's a little different from her usual self. Warmer.

More gentle, Arato had said that one time.

She meets his eyes for a brief moment. But it isn't until the rest of the dorm have retired that she finally deigns to approach him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"You can stare at me all you like, Yukihira. I'm not tasting your garbage." She's haughty as ever despite her situation. Somehow, he likes this version of her best. Anything's better than the broken, defeated, rain-soaked Nakiri from three weeks ago.

"It's okay," He shoots back. "I know the effect my food has on ya. Especially your knees."

"Especially my gag reflex, you mean."

"I'm only kidding," He grins. "I mean, look at ya. God, you're the amazing Nakiri-san. We mere mortals can only hope to be half as good."

She scowls. "And now you're being condescending."

"Only a little." He can barely hold back his laughter, and god, she must see it, because he can practically feel her bristle in her dress. "Admit it. You liked Yuki's dish, didn't ya?"

Nakiri purses her lips, then lets out a sigh, seeming to deflate after a moment or two. Her brows crease, and not for the first time since her arrival, she seems genuinely perplexed. "You're all so… different, here. You don't take instruction very well." She pauses, seemingly deliberating in her head. "But yes. Yoshino-san made a good dish. I could only think of three ways to improve on it."

"Well, no dish is perfect after all."

She flips her hair. "Mine are closer to perfect than yours will ever be. Especially if you're going to keep up that peanut-butter squid combo. Now good-night, Yukihira."

It occurs to him as he watches her leave that maybe – just maybe, the quest to save her heart is not so very lost after all.