The sun had barely begun to crest the horizon when a subtle knock disturbed the quiet of the dormitory hallway. Riku Kaizen stood outside Erina's door, holding a covered tray and dressed in a fresh black chef uniform, the faint scent of miso and ginger clinging to the air around him. He had barely slept after the events of the previous night—his conversation with Erina, the intense training he'd imposed on himself, and the ideas swirling in his mind like a simmering broth refusing to settle.
When Erina opened the door, her expression shifted from confusion to curiosity. Her hair was still slightly tousled, but her poise remained as elegant as ever.
"Riku?" she asked, blinking once "What are you doing here so early?"
He lifted the tray slightly, offering a calm smile "I thought I owed you breakfast. It's not a grand gesture or anything, just something to start the day right."
Erina raised a delicate eyebrow but stepped aside to let him in "I suppose I can allow that."
Inside her room, Riku uncovered the tray to reveal a steaming bowl of ochazuke—rice steeped in green tea, topped with grilled salmon, shredded nori, and a delicate sprinkle of yuzu zest. A side of lightly pickled vegetables and a cup of genmaicha accompanied the dish, the entire setup modest yet precise.
Erina sat down across from him, regarding the meal with a critical eye that softened into reluctant admiration "You've really taken to traditional Japanese cuisine."
"I'm trying to understand the roots before challenging the branches," Riku said, watching her reaction closely "Besides, I wanted to make something comforting. After everything lately, we both could use a little warmth."
She took a bite, and for a moment, silence settled in the room—thick, but not uncomfortable. Then, her shoulders relaxed, and a small, approving hum escaped her.
"You've gotten better," she said quietly "There's restraint here… and confidence."
"I had a good teacher," he replied.
She looked up at that, meeting his gaze. For a moment, the fierce competitor and the God Tongue both faded, and she was simply Erina—someone trying to navigate expectations, rivalry, and emotions that had never quite fit the mold others tried to place her in.
After finishing breakfast, Erina stood and walked over to the window, where the early morning light painted the sky in soft amber hues "There's a new buzz on campus," she said, folding her arms as she stared out "Rumors of an upcoming Shokugeki. High-stakes. One of the Elite Ten might be challenged."
Riku leaned against the wall. "Let me guess—Isshiki-senpai?"
Erina shook her head. "No. It's worse. It's Eizan."
The name hung in the air like a curse.
"Eizan's not just a manipulator—he's a tactician. If he's involved in a Shokugeki, it won't be fair. He'll stack the odds, use pressure, bribes, anything to crush whoever stands against him."
Riku's expression darkened "So it's a trap."
"Exactly." Erina turned, her voice growing firm "But someone is still challenging him. A second-year from Polaris who won't back down."
Riku nodded slowly "And let me guess—you want me to get involved."
Her eyes narrowed "You said you came here to make a name for yourself. To show what you're capable of. This is your moment, Riku. Eizan doesn't expect a first-year to challenge him seriously, which is exactly why it might work."
He exhaled, tension running through his shoulders "So I walk into the lion's den. Alone."
"Not alone," she replied, stepping closer "You won't be fighting just for yourself. You'd be representing Polaris. Representing the idea that cooking isn't about manipulation or money—it's about passion, creativity, and integrity. You've already made waves. This would be the next storm."
Riku looked down at his hands, callused and rough from hours of knife work, blistered from the heat of pans, scarred slightly from past mistakes. He thought about the kitchen. The fire. The hunger to prove something—to himself more than anyone else.
"Then I'll do it," he said quietly "I'll challenge Eizan."
Erina's breath caught, but she didn't try to dissuade him. Instead, she gave a small, approving nod "Then we begin preparing. Because if you're serious, you'll need more than skill—you'll need a strategy."
Later that day, Polaris dorm buzzed with movement. Megumi, Takumi, and even Isshiki were gathered in the common kitchen, helping Riku test out potential dishes. They worked like a brigade, each understanding their role. Erina, surprisingly, had stayed behind—not in the kitchen but offering guidance from the sidelines, observing Riku with a sharp eye whenever she dropped in.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Riku sat outside on the porch steps, rubbing his shoulder. Erina joined him, two mugs of cold barley tea in her hands.
"You looked like you were about to pass out in there," she said, handing him a mug.
"I've never cooked this much without a break," he muttered "But I think… I'm getting close."
There was a pause, the kind that stretched just long enough to be noticed. Then Erina spoke, her voice lower now.
"When you face Eizan, it won't just be a test of your culinary skill. He'll come for your pride. He'll belittle you. He'll try to strip you of confidence before the first bite is even taken."
Riku sipped the tea, letting the cool bitterness ground him "Then I'll give him a reason to choke on his own arrogance."
Erina turned to him, something flickering in her gaze—an emotion Riku couldn't quite define, but it wasn't disdain. It was closer to admiration, maybe even concern.
"You're changing," she said "But not in the way I expected. You're not chasing the spotlight. You're building something. With your hands, your heart… and your food."
"Cooking is how I speak to the world," he murmured "And if Eizan wants to challenge that voice, then I'll shout loud enough that he can't ignore me."
The two sat in silence after that, watching the stars peek through the veil of dusk.
The battlefield was coming into view. The war would be fought with knives and spices, pressure cookers and plated perfection. But beneath it all, what Riku was truly fighting for was purpose—and the bond that had begun to form with someone he once thought was untouchable.