Akai Ito / Red String (of Fate)

The Train Ride Continues

Turns out she was correct; her hatred towards the redhead definitely isn't there anymore-- maybe. Not sure if this is the train ride talking, or the gorgeous stars talking.

"You're seriously passing up on these salmon skins,Nakiri?" Sōma pushes the package to her once again, "They're damn addicting, and what's a better snack to accompany us under this scenery, eh?"

"You've ruined the scenery by saying they look like salmon roe, baka." Erina refers to their previous conversation. Palms continue to enjoy the warmth of the brown rice tea cup Megumi has brought for her.

"Don't blame me. It's the salmon skin talkin'." The Yukihira winks, "For real, though. You don't wanna be passing up on these bad boys."

"Did you made those?"

"Nope. Kurokiba did."

"Fine. I'll have some."

At her sudden eagerness towards the salty goodness, Sōma's lips curl, "Geez, Nakiri. You hate my cooking that much now, eh?"

His half truth got Erina chuckling, "I have yet to approve your plebeian style of cooking, in case you have forgotten."

"And y'know damn well that cruel mouth of yours ain't gonna work on me, right?"

"I do." The blonde takes another small bite of the salmon skin-- which addiction's starting to seep into her palate, "It's just fun messing with you."

The redhead scoffs, "It's gonna take more than that to mess with me."

"Then just wait for that day I beat you in a grueling Shokugeki where you will be forced to bow down at my feet."

Sōma doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he's taking his time to dig into the salmon paper bag and pick up a large piece. "Sorry, my ears are incapable of hearing things that ain't gonna happen."

"W-Who are you to say that to the God Tongue?!" Erina's face has gone wrathfully frustrated, yet he only laughs it off.

"Now who enjoys messin' with who." He smirks, "And to answer your question, I'm the former 2nd seat's biological son."

"Hmpf. You are made of all infuriating things combined, Yukihira." She folds her arm on her chest, "You should receive an award."

"Or your Elite Ten seat would be great too, eh?"

Erina literally could smack his head right now. He's lucky that she can't find a bat near her and that she's sitting far from him, so a hard pinch on his resting hand on the table will do.

"Over my dead body, Yukihira Sōma." She says as she lands her attack.

"Aaah! Man, you are feisty, Nakiri." He grunts and reflectively shakes the pain off his hand.

Seeing him in pain gives her the superior feeling, so she savors further it by flipping her hair, "Save the compliments for the cooking, because such thing never flatter me."

"Yeah, when I tell my old man to compliment your hair flip, I dare ya not to blush."

And just the thought of her favorite chef already gives her some rosiness on her cheek, but it stops when Sōma teases her more for it.

The rest of the train ride is filled with more well-flowed conversation between them that the silent pauses are not even awkward. They're jumping to how Joichiro brought durian home one time to when her grandfather broke a tooth on a gala dinner. It's so funny to them that Sōma snorts a piece of salmon skin out of his nose, in which Erina can't help the cackle within her because of how stupid he looks.

She can't even remember the last time she laughed so much because of some lame jokes and banters-- as further, lame jokes from Yukihira Sōma! Both of them were having quite a time that the thought of where are their heading and why are they on this moving train don't cross their minds even once.

Shit. Maybe Alice was right.