Any levity in the room had been firmly extinguished by Satoshi's proclamation. No one seemed eager to speak after such a dismal announcement.

"Isshiki-senpai…don't you think you're being a little dramatic?" asked Ryoko, turning in her chair to look at the boy's backlit figure in the window sill.

Satoshi turned, his face mostly in shadow.

"Possibly. But think of it this way, Ryoko-kun. Imagine, for a moment, that you were just another first year student at the academy. Not someone who made it to the top 16 of the Autumn Election preliminaries. Not someone who personally consorts with not one, but two, Elite Ten members."

"Former." Erina cut in, almost bitterly. She had her arms folded, a bit of her ojou air resurfacing. It seemed she wasn't taking her dismissal as calmly as she tried to make it seem. Satoshi went on as if the distinction didn't matter.

"You're just one of the two hundred and fifty plus students that aren't in the upper echelon of your year. You're a worthy chef, certainly. You've made it through such things as the Stagiaire and the Training camp. But you're still nowhere near the level of people like Hayama Akira or Kurokiba Ryo."

Satoshi turned, his apron hanging down and providing some much needed concealment.

"Then the boy cocky enough to challenge the entire school, who was a top contender in the Autumn Elections, trounces an Elite Ten member in a Shokugeki, and swears to fight against the administration that dethroned the Demon King of Food. Only to leave the school and return as one of its staunchest supporters. A student who was leagues ahead of where you would ever be in your cooking, brought to the point of complete surrender under Central's thumb. THAT is the plight of the average Tōtsuki first year. How would you feel, were you in their shoes?"

Ryoko bit her lip, turning to Yuki, who stared open mouthed at their senpai. Most of the onlookers had similar looks of concern, although there were a select few that didn't react at all. Those who'd understood, just as Isshiki did, just what the manner of Sōma's return meant for the rest of the school.

"Isshiki-senpai's correct. At the risk of seeming arrogant, most, if not all of the people in this room are at a completely different level than the rest of our year. We've proven that time and again. We're the Jewels Generation's best. And Sōma-kun's our friend." stated Alice, smiling cheekily.

"So while we have nothing to fear from that red headed moron." scoffed Erina, who ignored the irritation she felt at being lumped in with the rest of them as Sōma's friend. "To everyone else in our year, he's a statement. A demonstration of Father's authority and Central's prowess rolled into one. The plebeians that make up the bottom two hundred of our grade will look at him and cower."

"Ha! Pay up!" shouted Daigo, stretching his hand out with a wide grin. Shoji frowned, glancing at Erina, before grumbling and dropping a few coins into his hand.

Erina blinked, nonplussed.

"You can keep going with the scary speech now, Erina-chii." He said, smiling smugly at Shoji, who still was giving Erina a displeased look.

"…eh?"

"They've taken to betting on how long you can go without saying something blatantly princess like. This time, it seems Daigo put his money on the under." said Marui.

Erina blinked again.

"Under…?"

Then she blinked again and finally remembered to be offended.

"And just what's that supposed to mean?!" she asked harshly, resisting the warmth that threatened to break out on her cheeks.

"It's really simple, Erina-chii." chimed in Yuki, eager for a distraction from the somber mood of the room. "Each of them picks over or under and an associated time frame. So let's say they pick two weeks. If you go more than two weeks without saying something super pretentious, whoever picked the 'over' is the winner and the loser has to pay up. Vice versa if you crack before then."

Erina looked borderline scandalized.

"Y-you…you wager money on me?"

"To be fair, Daigo and Shoji wager money on almost anything. You're just their most recent competition."

Erina still didn't look like she was comfortable with the idea, and her mood wasn't helped by Alice voicing her opinion.

"Oh! That's so cute, you're that predictable, cousin dearest? You're like one of those slot machines!"

Erina growled, snapping at Alice who laughed in response, willfully ignorant of the almost real steam coming out of her ears. Megumi was alternating between both cousins, trying to calm them down to no avail.

Daigo had gone back to needling Shoji, sparking one of the pair's ever present fights. Marui and Ryoko were trying to play peacemaker, while Yuki was whispering sly encouragement to both sides, a true instigator.

The Aldini brothers were conversing with each other, Takumi gesturing wildly, as was his wont. Ikumi was sitting quietly, staring at her phone and typing on it, probably messaging someone that wasn't present.

The seriousness of the evening had been completely broken by Daigo's unthinking interruption, and Satoshi found himself loathe to return to it. Their problems wouldn't be solved by pointing out how well played Azami's latest maneuver had been. They would be solved through the decisive action of Tōtsuki's most rebellious students. And so he would be sure to do his part to assist his precious kouhai.

"Incoming!"

Even if that meant he would have to pull out his most risqué apron for the occasion and dive towards the Nakiri cousins who, even after all the weeks spent at Polar Star, weren't fully ready to deal with the true depth of Satoshi's eccentricities.

"That was certainly very fun, wouldn't you say Ryo-kun?"

"Certainly, ojou…"

Alice and Ryo had taken their leave, heading back to the Nakiri mansion for the night. As fun as things were, they knew they couldn't afford to be there any longer. It was already approaching midnight as it was.

Coming up to the steps, Alice continued talking, happily recounting how Erina had stayed away from the senior student and his naked apron prowess for the rest of the party.

"Alice-ojou…weren't you also just as scared?"

Alice sniffed haughtily, crossing her arms and looking away pointedly.

"Scared? Me? Please Ryo-kun, I would've thought you-"

"Quiet ojou."

Alice opened her eyes, turning onto her aide.

"How dare you? You dog! I'll-"

"Alice. Look."

The white haired girl stopped speaking, surprised. She wasn't used to Ryo actually sounding serious, and she decided to heed his words before tearing into him for his disrespect.

Any thoughts of punishing the baggy eyed chef went straight out the window as she saw what had grabbed his attention.

There, standing at the top of the steps, blocking the doorway to the Nakiri mansion, was Sōma Yukihira. He was back in his uniform and he had the same, straight backed posture they'd seen him adopt at the shokugeki. It was markedly different from the laidback stance he'd favored months ago.

Ryo stepped in front of Alice, placing her behind him. It wasn't really a conscious movement, he just knew that his old rival wasn't the same, and he sought to protect Alice, as he always did.

"Evening, Yukihira. You need something?"

His tone was as flat and bored as it ever was, despite the questions he himself had for the young chef.

"Nothing in particular, Kurokiba-san. I've just been waiting for you and Nakiri-ojou to get home, so that I can announce my presence to you. I will be residing here for the foreseeable future."

Ryo didn't flinch, but he could practically sense Alice ready to burst with questions behind him. He normally wouldn't bother to restrain her, but he couldn't shake the feeling he got from standing in front of the changed Yukihira chef. Something had shifted, there was something different about this man that set off warning bells in his head. His instincts called Sōma dangerous, and Ryo wasn't stupid enough to disagree with them without finding out more.

"Ah, I see." was all he had to say.

"Is that favorable to you, Nakiri-ojou? If it is not, then I will seek other accommodations immediately."

Alice stepped from behind Ryo so she could look directly at her former acquaintance. She didn't say anything. Instead she locked her eyes with Sōma's. He stared back, completely undisturbed by her sudden interest.

After a few seconds, she turned, dismissing him.

"If that is what the director decrees, then I have no issue. What room will you be using?"

"I will be using one of the servant quarters, one floor down from where you and Kurokiba-san reside."

Clicking her tongue, Alice strode boldly forward, ignoring Ryo's silent attempt to keep her back. She stopped in front of Sōma, who deferentially moved to the side, allowing her access into the building. As she put her hand on the doorknob, Sōma reached his hand out and held it shut.

Alice was unfazed, turning her pink irises onto the boy.

"Was there more you had to say, Sōma-kun?"

"Forgive my presumption, Nakiri-ojou. I just had a simple question for you."

Ryo stepped forward. Not exactly threateningly, but not exactly peacefully either.

"Then speak. Ryo-kun and I are quite tired and eager to head in for the night."

"How far are you willing to go in defiance to Nakiri Azami?"

Alice looked at him, at the golden eyes that held her own. They held a different look, one almost like the gaze he'd worn when imitating her cousin's famous tongue. He wasn't asking as Central's enforcer. He was asking for himself. This new, cold, distant self. She smiled, almost goofily.

"You're so strange, Sōma-kun! What an odd question!"

Shaking her head, she patted Sōma's hair and pulled at the doorknob, slipping into the building. Ryo followed after her, stopping to look at Sōma as he crossed the threshold. His gaze was almost searching, as he took in the new form of his fellow Autumn Election runner up.

"What're you playing at, Yukihira?"

Sōma quirked an eyebrow at the seafood chef, before shrugging lightly, unconcerned.

"That is not your concern, Kurokiba-san."

Ryo said nothing, heading inside. The response hadn't really surprised him. He ascended the stairs to the upper floors, finding Alice waiting for him around the corner to the hallway that led to their rooms.

"So, it seems we have a new roommate, Ryo-kun."

"Yea."

Alice looked down over the banister, at the darkly clad form of Yukihira Sōma striding across the carpet. She could honestly say this was something she didn't expect.

"Are you going to tell the others?"

Alice looked at her aide.

"Would you be mad with me if I didn't?"

Ryo yawned, scratching at the side of his head.

"Whatever ojou decides is fine."

"Good boy." She said affectionately, reaching out to pat his hair. He sidestepped the familiar gesture with long years of practice. He'd only accept so much patronization, even in his resting state.

Alice pouted, glaring at Ryo before turning her back to him and walking to their rooms. He followed along at a steady pace, more than ready to go to bed. It had been a tiring day, in more ways than one. He idly wondered why Alice would bother keeping Yukihira's presence at the Nakiri mansion a secret, but he assumed she had her reasons. She was much more politically minded than he was, he could admit that, and so he would defer to her here.

"Evening, Alice-ojou."

"Good night to you too, Ryo-kun."

The next few days at Tōtsuki were a flurry of activity. Each day after classes, Sōma would run through a veritable gauntlet of shokugekis. The exact number varied from day to day, but he never fought any less than two in a given afternoon.

Club after club fell to the new tenth seat's cooking prowess. Chocolate Study. Indian Cuisine. Grilling Techniques. These and more all fought for the right to survive in Central's new Tōtsuki. And lost by complete shut out to the red head, who seemed adamant in throwing out as many students as he could while eliminating the various extra-curricular organizations of the school. He didn't always offer additional stakes, but he did it often, and the stakes were always the same. Risk expulsion to claim his seat. And while not everyone was foolish enough to accept, there were more than a few greedy research society heads that sought a seat on the Elite Ten Council.

Each and every victory occurred in much the same manner as his first win over Morino Naru. The judges' reactions to his dishes would always be ones of disgust, anger or even fear. There was even one particular incident in which a judge, upon just smelling Sōma's dish, locked in his vote and immediately left the arena. But the judges would always vote for Sōma's cooking unanimously with little hesitation, the red head confiscating the uniform of any that had accepted his raised stakes.

At first, there was a lot of unrest as students continued to protest. They swore that Central was match fixing all over again, despite Sōma's earlier assurances to the contrary. In response, after each win, he would critique the opponent's dish for the masses to see. He always take one simple spoonful, through which he always found over a dozen flaws, with at least two or three of them being critical failures. He gave his opponents each and every opportunity to refute his criticisms but few ever did, and those that did were swiftly proven wrong by the judges.

Each of Sōma's targeted comments were one hundred percent accurate.

When that wasn't enough, Sōma allowed the judging panel to be increased to five, with three of the judges being randomly swapped out after every match. It didn't matter. They all seemed to dislike the Yukihira boy's dishes, but they always voted for him, with most refusing to comment on why they had voted the way they did.

One judge, a particularly stern looking man by the name of Ryouga Inari, finally decided to respond to Urara's insistent questioning.

"The boy's cooking is almost technically perfect. His dishes taste exquisite. But eating his food isn't an enjoyable experience."

He refused to speak on it further and the enigmatic comment only led to even more questions. How could food be cooked perfectly and taste amazing while being unenjoyable? It would be one thing if the person in question just didn't have a taste for the foods in question but that clearly wasn't the case here, especially when contrasted against the judges' usual exuberant praise for the opposing dish.

The members of the Polar Star dormitory followed their former comrade's warpath, gathering around the TV every afternoon to watch him clear away yet another part of what made Tōtsuki so unique throughout the entire culinary education world. None of them had had to personally cross knives with the tenth seat yet, but Marui and Megumi's respective research societies had been forced to disband, their presidents losing their bids to stay on as independent entities of the school.

It wasn't until the fifth day of Sōma's campaign that one of their friends was forced to step into the ring themselves.

"Greetings everyone! Urara-chan here yet again to act as host to another shokugeki between Central's premier enforcer and an RS determined to beat the odds and stay alive!"

The crowd cheered, just as noisy as ever, but the emotions of the crowd were divided. There were some that still held onto their anger and hope that an RS would finally be able to succeed against Sōma, but there were even more that cheered for the red head himself. Public opinion had shifted noticeably, as people were swayed to Central's side by both Sōma's capability and the honeyed promises of becoming on par with the Elite Ten.

Tōtsuki's idol gestured to one side.

"Today, we have the Donburi Research Society, represented by its president, Mito Ikumi. If she wins, the Don RS will continue on as a Central approved organization, with an increased budget and land allocation. If she loses, the club will be disbanded and the assets seized by Yukihira Sōma."

The dark skinned girl stepped up in her classic, revealing cooking attire. She looked across the stage at Sōma, who didn't even glance in her direction, instead staring off to the side.

"The theme is Don. The time limit is two hours. Ready. Set. START!"

"I forfeit."

The entire arena went silent. It seemed everyone in attendance could do nothing but stare at where the girl was standing, casually, as if she hadn't just given up before touching a single utensil. She looked directly at Sōma, who had turned slightly at her words. He didn't seem surprised by the turn of events at all, although that could be due to his reaction to the surrender being the same as his reaction to almost everything else: complete and utter apathy.

Urara looked just as confused as the spectators, stammering a bit as she almost tripped. The blonde girl's statement had come so quickly after hers that she'd still been mid motion with her hand signal for them to commence! She looked over at Ikumi, who seemed at ease.

"Ah…Mito-san, are you certain?"

"Very. My apologies for wasting such a nice introduction, Urara-chan."

"No…problem?" the school idol blinked. She turned to the crowd, where whispers had broken out, everyone confused by the turn of events. While more than one of Sōma's challengers had seemed resigned to their defeats, none had just forfeited straight out. Was Tōtsuki's renowned Meat General that intimidated by Sōma's spotless record?

"Um…well it seems the match has been concluded everyone! The victory goes to Yukihira Sōma via forfeiture. The Don RS shall be officially disbanded and any and all resources they had will be given over directly to Sōma-kun. Thank you for viewing!"

Mito Ikumi walked off towards the back of the stage, offering no further explanation or justification. Sōma exited soon after, having not said a word throughout the entire match. If one could call what had just occurred a match.

Those still in the audience at the arena were still trying to process what they had just seen, and the viewers at the Polar Star Dormitory were in much the same state of confusion.

"Aldini-kun, did Mito-san mention anything about forfeiting to you?" queried Ryoko. The Italian chef looked concerned, staring into space as he stroked his chin.

"No, she didn't say a thing. Yesterday, I'd asked her what she had planned for the shokugeki, but she refused to tell me. I thought she was just being overly cautious. I didn't see any sign that she was actually going to just give up."

"It's not like Mito-chan to just give up without a fight. She's the type that would commit to the battle no matter the odds." commented Satoshi. He'd yet to change into his classic attire (or lack thereof) and still stood in his uniform, pondering the situation.

"We can simply ask Mito once she returns." declared Erina, crossing her arms irritably. The Meat Master hadn't served under her in months, but it still rankled to see someone she'd once handpicked give up without a struggle. "I hope her reasoning's adequate."

Ikumi walked down the hallway, coming across the despondent form of her senpai and former subordinate. He sat against the wall, depressed, his hair drooping in line with his mood.

"Nikumi-chan…how could you?" moaned Konishi Kanichi, comically wide tears running down his face.

With no warning, he stood up.

"The great Don RS is no more. I had faith in you, Nikumi-chan!" he cried, clutching his head. Ikumi looked uncomfortable, fiddling with the sheath strapped to her thigh.

"Gomenasai Kanichi-senpai. I…I had my reasons."

"What?! What reason could possibly justify such betrayal?"

"That is not a matter with which you should concern yourself." cut in a third voice.

Kanichi turned, met with the looming form of Yukihira Sōma. Even though he was slightly taller than the Central chef, Kanichi would swear that the boy still stood meters above him, glaring down at him like he was some insect hardly worth his attention.

"The shokugeki is over, Konishi-san. You no longer have any reason to be here. Please excuse yourself."

Kanichi bit back the urge to argue, his fear vastly outweighing any notions of defiance. Instead he just gazed sadly at Sōma's blank eyes.

"Yukihira…what happened to you? This isn't who you once were."

Sōma quirked an eyebrow.

"You're right, Konishi-san. But this is who I am now. Which is what matters. Now, if you would be so kind."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard it, Kanichi turned, gathering around himself what little dignity he could spare.

"Fine, then. We know when we're not wanted. Let's go Nikumi-chan."

"I'm afraid she'll be staying here."

Kanichi paused. He didn't move, instead just turning his head to eye Ikumi, who made no attempt to meet his gaze. She didn't move from the spot where she now stood at Sōma's side.

"I see. It's like that, eh Nikumi-chan?"

She didn't say anything, still refusing to meet his eyes. With a noise of disgust, he continued walking, his footsteps fading until the two first years couldn't hear the scuff of his boots on the tile any longer.

Once assured that they were alone, Ikumi rounded on Sōma, fire in her eyes.

"I get that what I did was necessary, but did you have to be such an asshole to him? He just lost his life's work."

Sōma didn't seem concerned with the anger of the meat master, choosing to lean against the wall, his posture notably more relaxed.

"I wouldn't call two years his 'life'. Besides, it was entertaining. At least for me."

Ikumi clicked her tongue, staring Sōma down irritably.

"Whatever. We have bigger problems than your sparkling personality."

Sōma looked at the girl, his eyes sweeping over her form with an intensity he usually reserved for when he was displaying his tasting prowess.

"Indeed we do, Ikumi. Indeed we do."

Alice lay in bed, flipping through a magazine that Erina had lent her. She had to admit, there were certain perks to her cousin being a resident of such a common institution these days. She'd had no idea that there was so much different types of reading material out there for her to enjoy!

She giggled as she flipped through the comic, absorbed in the romantic struggle of a vampire and her human lover. A knock interrupted her reading and she called out, not moving her eyes from the page.

"Come in."

The door opened and Alice didn't bother looking up, knowing who the visitor must be. She only ever had one, after all.

"Ryo-kun, your timing couldn't be better. Would you be a dear and run over to the dormitory for me? I need you to pick up the next edition of this magazine from Yoshino-san, I simply must know how Moka and Tsukune get out of this one."

The boy said nothing and Alice paid it no mind. She was used to the seafood chef's lazy, quiet nature. After a few seconds though, she realized that he hadn't moved at all though, and that's when she looked up.

Yukihira Sōma looked down at her, his face just as blank as she'd grown used to seeing it on the television at the multitude of shokugekis he'd participated in over the past week. He wore the black chef's uniform he favored for his bouts, and he held a crisp envelope in his hand, which he immediately held out to Alice.

"My apologies for the interruption, Nakiri-ojou. I merely came to deliver this to you."

Alice sat up, smoothing down her skirt and shutting her magazine. She leveled the full weight of her noble, red eyed gaze on the boy.

"And what might that be, Sōma-kun?"

"The shokugeki notice for the Cutting Edge Cooking Research Society, ojou."

Alice blinked, tilting her head questioningly.

"While I did indeed win the use of their facilities a few years ago, I'm not an actual member of the club, Sōma-kun."

"I'm afraid that isn't true, at least not according to what's noted in Tōtsuki's records. You are listed as the current and active president of the society."

He handed another piece of paper to her, and she took it, idly scanning its contents.

"Ah, it appears I won more than just their room all that time ago. What an amusing surprise."

She handed the paper back to Sōma, before reclining against her head board and picking up her magazine again.

"Be that as it may, I have no interest in maintaining the society itself. Feel free to dissolve it. Although I would ask that you store the equipment itself in our holdings prior to demolition. I purchased most of the pieces myself, with no assistance from the club's allocated budget."

"I see. Very well then, Nakiri-ojou. I will take care of it at once."

Sōma headed towards the door, tucking the paper work back inside of the envelope. Just as he reached the door, Alice called out.

"Actually, Sōma-kun. While I don't care if the Cutting Edge RS continues on, this would be a good opportunity to see just how far we've both come, don't you think?"

Sōma didn't turn to face her.

"Perhaps."

"Also, I'm sure we can both agree that the society's fate is an ultimately meaningless stake for the both of us, correct?"

"I could personally care less whether the Cutting Edge society continues to exist or not. I've culled more than enough of the useless flesh from Tōtsuki."

Alice's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly.

"Ah, Sōma-kun, such harsh word choice. And I'm surprised you would be so easily satisfied, I thought Azami-oji wanted every single independent faction crushed beneath his heel."

Sōma turned to face the girl, and she had trouble placing the expression on his face, minute as it was.

"That is indeed what he wants."

He elaborated no further, but she was more than savvy enough to pick up on what he wasn't saying.

Who's to say that what Nakiri Azami wants is what Yukihira Sōma wants?

Alice smiled. It seemed their friend wasn't as firmly under her uncle's sway as they'd feared. Although the revelation brought almost more questions than answers, questions she felt the chef would be more than reticent in answering.

"Very well. Since we both agree that the usual stakes are meaningless, why don't we adjust them a bit?"

"You would seek my seat as well, Nakiri-ojou?"

Alice laughed, one hand covering her mouth demurely.

"Oh, please Sōma-kun. When I come for your seat, I will do it on even grounds. Not because you're arrogant enough to wager it so flippantly. No, I have different stakes in mind."

"I'm listening."

Alice spoke. Sōma listened. And they both agreed that the new stakes offered were acceptable.

So it was, on the morning of the very next day, Alice and Sōma faced each other in a shokugeki once again.

"Ohayo everyone! We're here today to witness the shokugeki between the Cutting Edge RS and Central. As always, Central is represented by its lead enforcer, Yukihira Sōma, while the Cutting Edge RS is represented by Nakiri Alice!"

Both chefs walked out to full applause. There were those who found their hopes revitalized in the young Nakiri. Maybe she would be the one to break Central's intimidating streak. Others remembered that she had lost soundly to the same chef, months ago, before he'd even been gifted with the skills needed to supplant her God's Tongue wielding family member. They continued to support Sōma, sensing an easy win for the young chef.

Alice's gaze panned around, taking in those who cheered for Sōma and, by extension, her Uncle Azami's regime, where they'd been yelling abuse not even one full week ago.

Sycophants.

While she wasn't nearly as prejudiced as her cousin had once been, Nakiri Alice knew her place in the world. And had no patience or kindness in her heart for those whose allegiance was about as stable as sand in a desert storm. If she'd had it her way, she would personally expel each and every last one of those ignorant fools.

None of this showed on her face, however, and instead she just smiled, holding her hands behind her back daintily. Never let it be said that Nakiri Alice couldn't maintain her composure.

"Alright. The combatants are ready. While there is no specific theme for this match, there IS a theme ingredient: eggs! A staple ingredient in a variety of dishes the world over, specifically requested by our resident Central chef, Sōma-kun."

"Eggs?" Erina said curiously. She sat in the stands alongside Megumi and Ryo. While they hadn't personally attended any of Sōma's matches before this one, they knew that they couldn't afford to just watch this particular bout on TV. Ryo was hunched over, staring down at the stage as intensely as his calm state would allow. Every so often, his hand would inch towards his bandana, as if he was itching to release his wild self.

"It wouldn't be the first time they were the focus of a shokugeki." commented Megumi. While she still wasn't nearly as perky as she had been before Sōma's return, she'd made strides towards recovery, helped and prodded along by her ever-insistent friends. Especially Erina, who refused to allow her guilt to keep her from doing what she could for the girl.

"True. I just find it odd, that's all. Beforehand, Yukihira-kun made it a point to challenge his opponents in their specialties. Alice has no qualms about cooking with eggs, but you would never really call it her specialty either." noted the heiress, crossing her hands beneath her bust line.

Ryo said nothing, his eyes still locked onto the stage below, where both of the competitors had moved to their stations.

"Let the shokugeki commence!" shouted Urara, with her customary hand flourish. The crowd cheered as both competitors started moving, their movements graceful as they started laying out their prepared ingredients.

Alice reached into a box, pulling out a small stainless steel machine.

Megumi squinted, trying to see what it was. She gave up quickly, however and turned to her noble friend.

"Erina-chan, what exactly is that?"

"It's a Sous Vide Water Oven." She commented, eyeing the machine appraisingly. "Sous Vide is French for "under vacuum". It's all about cooking at very precise temperatures. It uses heated water, as opposed to merely heating the air, allowing you to cook food at lower temperatures with a more evenly spread distribution of heat. It can give foods, especially meat, a richer taste as the food suffers none of the damage that's incurred at the higher temperatures most conventional appliances operate at."

"Wow, that sounds useful." said Megumi, glancing over to Sōma's station where the chef had started whisking the eggs he'd cracked into a bowl. She took note of the large pot and earthenware dish that sat on the stove next to him before she took a closer look at her friend. Something seemed different about him.

She squinted, wishing she'd opted for closer seating as she tried to examine him. Something about his movements were strange. She'd watched every single cooking battle he'd taken part in over the past week and she couldn't quite pinpoint why she was feeling like something was particularly off about the way he was cooking today.

"Ryo-kun. Erina-chan. Do you notice anything different about the way Sōma-kun is cooking today?"

"Different how?" asked Erina, as she turned from watching her cousin separate egg yolks using a slotted spoon. She eyed the Yukihira boy, watching as he tasted whatever he had simmering in that large pot while simultaneously cracking an egg into a nearby bowl.

"Now that you mention it, looking at him, it feels familiar. I can't put my finger on why, though."

"It's his movements." interjected Ryo. He watched the chef move, his fatigued gaze belying the sharpness that hid beneath it. "Prior to today, all of Yukihira's movements have been precisely accurate. Perfect, you could even call them. But they've all had a certain lifelessness to them. He may as well have been a robot on that stage."

Ryo smiled a little sardonically.

"The Yukihira we knew would've called him boring. But today, his movements are much livelier. Nowhere near what they once were, but it's interesting to see, especially coupled with his new skills. He's not some puppet putting on a show here. I'D LOVE TO TAKE ON THIS BRAND NEW YUKIHIRA!"

The seafood chef's last statement was punctuated by the swift donning of his bandana, his hair and eyes flaring up as if he was ready to leap into the arena then and there.

Megumi shrunk, as she usually did when presented with the boy's intimidating eccentricities.

"Ryo-kun! Please….please calm down. People are staring."

He rounded on his fellow port town chef, spitting fire.

"I don't give a fuck about any of these weak willed excuses for cooks! As far as I'm concerned, they can take their pissy judgement and lack of cooking skills, and shove it up their mother's-"

"That's quite enough of that." bit out Erina, snatching the bandana from Ryo's head. It was a trick for dealing with the tall young man that she'd practically forced Alice to teach her. She refused to be in his presence without having some counter measure for his excessive personality.

"Really. I don't know how Alice puts up with your excessive vulgarity, Kurokiba-kun."

"Ah…apologies Erina-ojou." Said the boy, looking not at all sorry as he scratched his chin and took the proffered bandana back, securing it around his wrist.

"Hmph. Be that as it may, Kurokiba-kun is correct. Yukihira's movements do have a vitality to them that his other cooking matches have certainly lacked."

The chef was now whisking his eggs, his movements swift and practiced. The empty silence that had become his trademark was absent. His whisk clanked against the bowl with each revolution. His gaze was focused, but not emotionless. It was very similar to how he'd cooked in the past.

'What is he making…' wondered Erina. She couldn't shake the nagging thought that she knew. It went beyond the familiarity of Yukihira's life filled movements at the stove. She felt like she knew this dish. She'd seen it before. But she couldn't figure out where. Sōma opened the pot, glancing inside of it. He brought out a square pan, placing it beside the pot, before ladling its contents into the pan.

The smell of the pot's contents were finally allowed to spread, and it hit Erina like a bolt of lightning. Chicken. Sake. Soy Sauce.

The smells took her back to that first day. Her first meeting with the red headed, plebian annoyance known as Yukihira Sōma.

"This…this is…"

"Erina-chan?" Megumi asked questioningly, seeing the girl look shaken. Thankfully, it wasn't the ashen, fear induced trembling she was prone to in her father's presence. It was simple shock and surprise. Just lots of it.

Down below, the contestants continued cooking, their dishes continuing to take shape. Alice took the sous vide prepared egg yolks and breaded them with flour, dipping them into a raw egg yolk before covering them in bread crumbs. Her fingers danced, coating each egg perfectly as she prepared them for the next stage of her cooking.

"It appears that Alice-san will be using some sort of frying technique, if her breading is any indication. Meanwhile Sōma-kun seems to be chilling a pan of his stock! What could he possibly be doing with it?"

Neither participant showed any hesitation in their motions. Sōma stirred. Alice blended. Sōma chopped. Alice seasoned. Back and forth they both went, displaying talent that had both the crowd and the judges gasping in awe as they waited, expectant.

Soon, they were both finished. Alice's judging was first. She brought her dishes forward on plates covered by simple metal domes that you would see in any restaurant, an oddly mundane departure for the girl known as the child of gastronomy.

The judges uncovered their plates, revealing a deceptively simple dish. Each plate held three round objects. It was unclear just what exactly they were because each object sat in a soft white bubble, the plates ringed with simple, stalked parsley garnish.

"Sous Vide Egg Yolk Croquette with Bubbled Gruyere Foam." said Alice, presenting her dish with a flourish. "When you are ready to eat them, please just use your utensil to pop the bubble. You can then just eat with your fingers, if that is your preference."

The third judge leaned in, looking the dish over in interest.

"Impressive. You've made the gruyere foam to such a consistency that it can retain a bubble, even through your handling of the plate."

He picked up his spoon, gently tapping the first orb on his plate. The bubble didn't really pop so much as collapse inward, bathing the egg croquette in its new liquid form. The smell it released was heavenly and the judge almost knocked the plate over in his haste to grab it. He picked up the egg, giving it one more cursory sniff before popping it into his mouth.

"The…the egg yolk. It's so tender, almost like custard, and the crispiness of the exterior adds a new level of texture to the meal. And the seasonings of the coating align perfectly with the taste of the yolk center which…hmm…what seasoning is this?"

"Truffle salt." said Alice with a wink. "It gives the croquettes an earthy undertone that goes perfectly with the cheesy overtones of the gruyere foam."

The other judges had wasted no time following their colleague's example and extolled the dishes as well, praising Alice's fine work at every turn. Soon the plates were completely empty, only remnants of the foamy gruyere sauce left.

"It seems our judges really liked Alice-san's dish! Now it's time for Sōma to show us just what he's prepared to counter the heaven sent child of molecular gastronomy!"

Sōma wheeled his cart forward, placing a bowl of steaming rice in front of each judge. He held up a rectangular bowl in his hand, angling it so the judges could see its contents, which seemed to consist of fluffy egg curds.

"Is that…Furikake?" the second judge asked, eyeing the springy egg flakes.

"Indeed it is. But you need to look deeper." said Sōma with a soft smile.

The judge blinked, surprised. He looked to his fellow judge for confirmation only to see the older man staring at the boy in shock. He'd judged several of the boy's shokugekis this week, and never once had he seen his lips so much as twitch during the entire match. On top of that, he usually just served his dishes and let the food speak for itself, as opposed to actually going out of his way to present them, as he was doing now.

"It's as I thought." muttered Erina, staring down at the bowl the boy held. It brought back memories, memories she found herself a little embarrassed of now. Memories of a pettier, more vindictive Nakiri Erina.

'I sincerely apologize for trying to bar your entrance into this school all those months ago, Sōma-kun.'

Now if only she got the chance (and the courage) to say the words to him in person.

"What is just as you thought, Erina-chan?" asked Megumi.

"That dish he's making…I recognize it. It's what Yukihira-kun cooked for his transfer examination."

"Oh, it's the dish that got him into Tōtsuki? The one Senzaemon-sama liked even though you told him it was disgusting?"

Erina averted her eyes, pointedly looking away from Megumi's playful grin. She'd already been forced to admit she was wrong for what she did more than once to the blue haired girl. That doesn't mean she had to like having it rubbed in her face.

"Such a simple dish. It's an odd choice for Yukihira now." commented Ryo. The Central chef's dish choice had leaned more towards high class cuisine as of late, another noted change to his distinctive style. He watched the chef pour the furikake over the judges' rice, each of them gasping as the layer of aspic was revealed and subsequently melted on top of the rice, releasing a heavily scented mix of soy sauce and chicken.

The first judge picked up his chopsticks, looking down at the meal before him. He gulped nervously but steeled himself, reaching forward and grabbing a small bite. He raised to his nose experimentally, going weak in the knees as he got the full force of the chicken broth.

He took a bite, the flavor bursting into his mouth. He chewed, tasting the various components, but found himself questioning the dish. It tasted wonderfully. It was so amazing, he found himself in heaven, walking among angels as they teased him and circled him with harps. It was simply magnificent, especially for something so common, so why did he feel so confused?

And then he realized. This meal was enjoyable. It's something he wanted to keep eating, bite after bite. A feeling that had been noticeably lacking from every single one of Sōma's dishes. Abandoning his questions, he dug in, taking scoop after scoop.

Everyone. The crowd. Urara. Even the other judges. Watched as the first judge ate, ready for him to stop and put his chopsticks down, anger and displeasure filling his face. But he never did that, instead continuing to eat, a smile filling his features.

"The gelatin bonds so well with the rice! The chicken's flavor is dispersed throughout the meal, which only enhances the egg's fluffy impact. It's…it's…"

He put the bowl down, not a single grain of rice left inside of it. Unseen to all, angels danced around him, harp music echoing through his head. A goofy smile was on his face.

"Divine."

At his words, the other judges tore into the food, eager to finally taste a dish from Yukihira Sōma that didn't leave them filled with directionless negative energy. They praised the meal, citing the spring onions garnish giving the meal a refreshing aftertaste and praising the egg's consistency, which gave the dish a perfectly fluffy texture.

"Transforming Furikake Gohan." Sōma said proudly, the smile on his face a little wider than it was. He turned to the crowd, who talked amongst each other urgently. Just when they thought that they had this new Sōma pegged, he went and did something that showed them that, even as he was, the first year was as unpredictable as ever.

"It appears the judges are really enjoying the meal. Would you like to tell us anything about it, Sōma-kun?"

Urara asked the question out of a sense of politeness and procedure, but she was shocked when Sōma stepped forward, leaning into the mic she held out.

"It's a fairly simple commoner's dish, Kawashima-chan. The furikake is one of the most basic Japanese condiments. You can find several different kinds of furikake in convenience stores and supermarkets all across the country. But this particular brand of furikake isn't in any super market. It can only be found at the hands of a Yukihira chef."

Urara recovered quickly, smiling brightly at him.

"I think all of us are wondering the same thing, Sōma-kun. In all of your previous matches this week, you seem to have gone out of your way to stay away from anything resembling a "commoner's dish". Even when it would've been simplest to just do something basic, you took the extra effort to make it something worthy of a gourmet restaurant. What changed with this particular shokugeki?"

Sōma's smile fell a little.

"Let's just call it a reminder. To everyone I've met, including someone in particular, that you can't just recline in your seat of honor at the top and look down on the rest of the cooking world. Any dish can have value if it's given the respect it deserves."

Urara turned to the crowd. She was tempted to point out how such a statement almost completely contradicted the doctrine that Central proclaimed, but she was the host of a battle, not a talk show. It wasn't her place to get philosophical.

"And there you have it folks! The judges are deliberating, and soon we will know who won in this shokugeki. Will it be Nakiri Alice's egg croquettes? Or Yukihira Sōma's twist on a common Japanese topping?"

"Ne, Kawashima-chan, I actually have one more thing to say."

"Ah, apologies Sōma-kun! Here you are." Urara said, handing the mic back over to the cook.

He looked at the judges' table, where the men were going back and forth, pointing at each of their plates in turn, caught up in an intense debate. He looked at Alice, whose eyes were on him, a playful smile on her lips. He raised the mic to his mouth.

"Please cease your deliberation, honored judges."

The head judge looked up, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.

"Our apologies for the delay, Yukihira-san. But I'm afraid this is a close match. We will need just a bit more time."

"No, you won't. Because I forfeit this match to Nakiri Alice."

No one moved. No one spoke. No one even breathed. With the noted exception of Nakiri Alice who laughed, her voice carrying over the suddenly silent arena.

"Oh, Sōma-kun! You are simply too kind. Although I fear your kindness was unnecessary here."

Sōma shrugged, his smile gone as his previous calm started to slowly reassert itself.

"I suppose we'll never know, Nakiri-ojou."

He left the arena, his hands tucked into his pockets. Alice followed after him, babbling excitedly at his back, needling him over the win he'd just given over to her. The only sounds that could be heard besides her voice were the scuff of their shoes across the floor and the clink of Sōma's chain, rattling from its place inside his pocket.

As the doors closed behind them, Sōma was almost immediately confronted by a man in a dark suit and sunglasses. A coiled earpiece hung out of his left ear.

"Yukihira-dono. Nakiri-sama requests your presence in his office."

Sōma looked at the guard amusedly, pulling the chain from his pocket.

"It seems there's no rest for the wicked." He said, wrapping the chain around his hand. With each loop, his posture straightened and his stance widened. The air about him changed, almost physically, as he went to secure the final links together. Before he could close the latch, a soft pale hand snatched one end of the chain, holding it off to the side.

"Such an odd affectation, Sōma-kun. It almost reminds me of Ryo-kun's bandana." Said Alice, stroking the silver links idly. "I must say though, I preferred your little headband much more."

Sōma grinned wryly, his golden eyes once again blank.

"I can't say I disagree with you, Nakiri-ojou."

She removed her hand and Sōma secured the chain ends together. The grin fell from his lips almost instantly and his eyes hardened, glancing over at the burly security guard.

"Move on ahead without me, Hoshi. I will follow along shortly."

The suited man looked down at the chef, weighing the situation.

"Nakiri-sama said he wanted you along urgently. I am to escort you."

"Then wait down the hall. Outside of the exit doors. I will be there in but a moment."

"But I was told-"

Sōma looked up at the taller man, his expression falling into one of displeasure.

"Hoshi. I am well aware of Nakiri-sama's orders. Know your place and don't seek to correct those who are above you."

Hoshi grit his teeth but then his earpiece started to crackle. He held it to his ear for a moment before giving Sōma one last annoyed glance and moving down the hall. Alice chuckled, making no attempt to conceal her laughter.

"My, Sōma-kun. So unforgiving with the help. It's almost inspiring to see how far you've come under Azami-oji."

He said nothing in response and Alice glanced over, rolling her eyes at the look of distaste he was giving her.

"Let's focus on what matters here. Do I have your support?"

Alice dropped her smile, looking Sōma up and down with an almost critical stare.

"For the time being you do, Sōma-kun. However long that remains the case is up to you."

Sōma clicked his tongue, moving past her to walk down the hall after the security guard.

"I suppose that will do for now then, Nakiri-ojou."

"Ah, before you go, Sōma-kun. Remember our other condition?"

He turned to face her, finding her smiling impishly as she held out a little breaded ball to him, along with a tiny plastic saucer of sauce.

"I want to see your false tongue in action."

Sōma took the offering, lightly dipping the croquette in the sauce.

"There is nothing false about my palate, I assure you."

He took a bite, closing his eyes as he chewed and then swallowed. After a few seconds, his eyes snapped open.

"There are over seventy flaws in this dish, twenty three of them being critical. The egg yolk is of inconsistent texture, indicating a failure to properly utilize the Sous Vide machine. The bread crumbs are seasoned in patches, completely overpowering in some areas while nonexistent in others. The gruyere is cold, with solid bits of cheese scattered throughout, another indication of a failure to properly heat it through. There is also clearly too much truffle salt added to the yolk mixture. The amount of oil…"

Sōma continued on, rattling off failures one after another. He reached two dozen before finally breaking off, gasping as he locked eyes with the mischievous Nakiri. His calm was completely broken as he panted, tossing the uneaten portion aside, uncaring of where it landed.

"What…what did you do?"

Alice smiled, not a hint of malice shown in her expression.

"It's just a little something I do to mess with Erina. I purposely cooked a separate little sample just for you, Sōma-kun. It seems your palate is indeed just as sensitive as hers, somehow."

She looked into his blank golden eyes, the momentary surprise gone from them. She had taken him off guard, but the Yukihira chef had recovered quickly. Much more quickly than her cousin usually did. Such a terribly prepared food would have her cousin furious at her for at least ten minutes.

"My apologies, Sōma-kun. I'm a scientist, after all, and I simply had to perform a little experiment on you."

She clapped her hands and tilted her head at him, almost mockingly.

"It seems you are truly worthy of the name you're been earning for yourself over the past week."

He eyed her, folding his arms, the chain on his wrist clinking against itself.

"And what name would that be, Nakiri-ojou?"

Alice smiled even wider, her eyes mere red slits.

"Oh, haven't you heard? There've been several names thrown around for you. Central's Puppet. Azami's Dog. The Black Jewel. But there's one that's gained prominence above them all, one that you earned through your emulation of my dearest cousin."

She said nothing further, waiting for Sōma to take the bait.

"If you're truly willing to support me, I'm afraid I won't have the time for your usual games, Nakiri-ojou."

"Fine, fine." She laughed, swatting Sōma on the arm as she walked past him, towards the doors that would take her back towards the arena.

"I bid farewell to the man that bears the Nisegami no Shita."

She smiled, not that Sōma could see it.

"Tongue of the False God…it suits you, wouldn't you say, Sōma-kun?"

She didn't give him time to respond, instead exiting through the hallway, back to the discord that they had left in their wake.