Akai Ito / Red String (of Fate)

Challenge

"You want to challenge me to a Shokugeki?"

She can't say that she's surprised, but with the way her eyebrow rises while shutting the latest Michelin Guide book might be giving away a different impression to him and some people in the library-- whose eyes are now divert to her.

"Yep. For the 1st seat." Sōma's tone reassuring.

"Hey! Keep it down, you two!"

The librarian's warning makes her whisper, "Isn't me winning the exhibition not enough for you to know that our gap is between the earth and the sky?"

"But they're still on the same horizon, Nakiri."

Oh God, she never thought she'd think this way, but she hates him more when he's serious, especially with his feature all tensed like this.

"Why should I accept such recklessness? What's in it for me?"

"Dunno, um..." He pauses, "Expel me?"

Her mind starts time-travelling again. Her 15 year-old self would be most pleased by such offer. When she still thought he was lower than the dirt and she was as high as milkyway.

But time has changed since then. She's grown up since then. Her feelings towards him have developed since then. Such thing has long gone from her bucket list, and she finds herself unable to sit still and look straight into his sheer determination.

"You're wasting my time, Yukihira. Sorry." She flees out of her chair and the library, clutching the book in her chest.

"Nakiri, wait!" He manages to catch up to her outside with a grip on her upper arm, where the volume of his voice comes back to normal, "C'mon."

Stopping her tracks is his pleading tone, but all he's getting is a shiver in hers, "Why should I bother with your personal goal anymore?"

"Y'know I'll never stop chasing for the top, Nakiri. You've practically lived your life there. Holding 1st seat 2 years in a row, coming from one of the most bling-bling families in Japan. Somebody has got to stop you, and that person is me."

"Have I always been just that person to you, Yukihira? Somebody you should stop in order for you to get to the top?"

He looks hesitant for a moment, like he's letting that sink into him, but as he's shaken off, he continues, "Look, Nakiri, you're probably the only person I have yet to impress with my Yukihira cooking, and clearly it's not gonna happen anytime soon because we've been having tons of meetings lately--"

"You sleep at those meetings, you moron."

"Aight, that's not the point. But imma have to take your ass off that 1st seat."

"And why is that? Because you have to be at where I am to be satisfied?"

"You can't and you don't have to understand my reasons to do it. Because I'm doing it for myself." Sōma sighs, "I swear I'm just trying to set my priorities straight."

"Straight what, Yukihira?"

"That it's never been personal between us."

Her eyes darkened.

"And when did it ever was?"

~

In the end of the most anticipated Shokugeki of the century between the 1st and 2nd seat, under the flashing lights and sickening smell of poultry wafting through the stadium, she's forced into a dark pit she's unfamiliar with: defeat.

2-1.

"Yukihira," She stands in front of his waiting room in the backstage, "Congratulations."

"Yeah? Well, thanks, Nakiri! 2nd seat won't be so bad. Just ask Rindou-senpai or Kuga-senpai about how fun--"

"Your dish is delicious."

So she leaves him, stunned.