The morning after his dinner with Erina, Riku Kaizen walked the familiar paths of Tōtsuki Academy, but his mind wasn't on class schedules or recipes. His thoughts were tangled with two things:
The way Erina had looked at him when he left.
And the message that followed.
"Stay away from her."
He hadn't told anyone—not Soma, not Megumi, not even Isshiki-senpai. He didn't need to. The intent was clear. Someone was watching. And someone was scared.
Of what? Of me?
As he approached the lecture hall, the buzz of student chatter snapped him back to the present.
"Did you hear? Nakiri-sama's hosting a special tasting session today."
"For first-years?! That's insane."
"They say only ten got invites."
Riku kept walking, expression unreadable. That was no coincidence.
He entered the hall and took his seat.
Then he saw her.
Erina Nakiri, standing at the podium with her usual cool poise—but her eyes flickered, just briefly, when they found him. She continued speaking as if nothing had happened.
"Today's lecture will be divided into two parts. First, a short demonstration from myself. Second, a practical challenge… supervised by me."
Murmurs swept the room.
Riku's eyes narrowed. This wasn't just a test. It was a message.
After class, the elite ten invitees—Riku included—were ushered into the academy's tasting chamber. Gilded chandeliers, velvet-draped windows, and long tables made the place feel like a royal court.
Erina stood at the head of the room, flanked by Hisako, arms crossed.
"You will each prepare a dish that reflects your culinary 'voice.' Something that speaks of who you are. Not what you've learned—but what you believe."
Riku could see it now.
This wasn't a challenge for everyone.
It was aimed at him.
He was the last to go.
The others presented high-end French fusion, molecular gastronomy tricks, and regional specialties with complex plating.
But Riku? He brought up a simple lacquered tray.
A bowl of white rice.
Grilled river fish with yuzu kosho.
A soft-boiled egg drizzled in black garlic soy.
Pickled plums.
It looked almost humble. Plain.
But the moment Erina took the first bite of the fish, her eyes widened ever so slightly.
The umami hit with a restrained fire, the yuzu sparking citrus brightness through the fatty fish. The rice was short-grain perfection—slightly chewy, each bite releasing subtle sweetness.
Then came the egg. The black garlic umami folded gently over the yolk, which burst across the rice like golden silk.
She paused.
Then set her chopsticks down.
"…Explain," she said.
Riku didn't hesitate "This is the food I ate growing up in the countryside. Simple meals cooked over charcoal. Ingredients that weren't expensive, but needed precision to get right. It's the kind of dish that reminds you of where you started, and why you don't want to forget."
The room was silent.
Even Hisako's expression softened.
Erina folded her arms "Why serve it here, in a room meant for ambition and prestige?"
"Because I don't cook to impress," he said "I cook to connect."
Erina stared at him for a long moment.
Then nodded once "Class dismissed."
As students began to file out, she turned toward the window.
Riku lingered.
"Still think I'm playing games?" he asked.
She didn't look at him "You're attracting attention. The kind that burns."
"I'm used to fire."
She looked back over her shoulder, golden eyes sharp "You don't know what you're walking into."
He stepped closer.
"I know who I'm walking toward."
For a second, her breath caught.
Then she turned fully to face him.
"If you really mean that…" she said quietly, "then win the next Shokugeki."
He blinked "What?"
"You'll be challenged soon. I can't say by who. But it's coming. If you lose, you'll be suspended. Possibly expelled."
"And if I win?"
She paused.
"You'll earn more than just a seat at the table You'll earn the right to stand beside me."
Their eyes locked.
He smiled "Then I'll win."
Erina turned away, but not before he saw the ghost of a smile at the corners of her lips.
Later that evening, Riku sat under a sakura tree on the academy's edge, watching petals fall like fading embers.
Footsteps approached.
Soma Yukihira dropped beside him, a rice cracker in hand.
"You're in deep, huh?"
Riku didn't pretend "Yeah."
Soma smirked "You planning on stealing the 'God Tongue's' heart?"
Riku didn't flinch "No."
"…No?"
"I'm not stealing anything," he said "I'm just… reminding her that it's hers to give."
Soma gave a low whistle "Damn, You're serious."
"I am."
"Then I hope you're ready," Soma said "Because half the academy's got their eyes on her—and now, they've got them on you too."
Riku leaned back, watching the petals fall.
Let them look, he thought. Let them come.
He wasn't backing down.
Not now.
Not ever.