Akai Ito / Red String (of Fate)

It's All Working Out (In the End)

"No. I guess I'm just..." Waiting for him to ask me. "Admiring the impeccable decorations of outdoor wedding."

"Has Yukihira-kun come along?"

"Wh-Why about him all of the sudden?"

"Just this feeling I have that you've been waiting for him." Hisako tells her, "And speaking of the devil..."

The girl flees out of the sudden, and when her eyes divert to another direction, that's where she sees him. Approaching her.

"Yo, Nakiri!" Sōma greets her, opening his hand, "Y'know what people say, always save the last dance for the hottest one in the room."

"No one says that, baka."

"That makes me the first." He chuckles, "May I have this dance, nonetheless?"

She takes his hand, "Since when do you become so eloquent all of the sudden?"

"Since I took that free dance class when I was strolling through the market 2 days ago."

Before they know it, they're on the dancefloor. He grabs her waist and starts slow dancing closely through the slow beat.

"How charming." She says sarcastically.

She lets his grin be the only thing that speaks through their silence for a moment-- his dance is getting better since that high school final dance, and she's more than happy to let him lead her light body through Turning Page that suddenly fills the air.

"I've told you that you look beautiful, right?"

Erina feels her cheek heats up, but she's also getting better at controlling herself in front of this guy, "You've been away from London too long and your flirting lines are getting weaker, so I've noticed."

"Hey, pop-up restaurant tour is a thing, aight?" He mutters, "But fine, you look beautiful. There."

"Well, you look... presentable as a groomsmen, I guess."

"Really, Nakiri? Is that all I get?"

She lifts her shoulder, good-humoured.

"How are you holding up, Yukihira-kun?" The blonde questions.

"What do you mean?"

"I-I mean, it's your ex's wedding, and your other ex is sitting over there." She points at Luna, who's sitting in one of the tables with some other 93rd generation.

"Well, it's definitely crazy that Luna brings her scary dad as her plus one, who won't stop staring at me, by the way." Sōma cringes, but shakes it off quick, "But y'know, why wouldn't I be happy here? It's Italy and two of my best mates just tied a knot."

"Is that really how you see it?"

"Uh... yeah? Why? What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing."

The redhead doesn't say a word. Instead, he's shooting Erina one of those looks again. That look she believes only reserved for her in a certain situation where his his golden eyes are the softest gaze she'd ever receive from anyone, and his lips that twitches slightly... so close to hers.

But then he surprises her flushed self by a sudden dip, leaving her gasp for air.

"Are you still scared, Nakiri?" Sōma whispers in her ear.

In this brief moment, her mind is playing the images of how far they've come from that day he cooked her the furikake gohan, until this day-- still him, only a Michelin starred chef who's dipping her so gloriously, looking so devilishly, daringly handsome, which above the paper, is what she sees before her.

On the contrary, her heart feels the rush of emotions. She used to despise this guy, and then falls for him, before falling out, before finding their way back to each other again. It's hard, it's always been hard for them, but this-- it's worth every single pain they've suffered through.

So with such radiance within her, she shakes her head, "No, I am not."

He smiles, before pulling her back up to stand, "Close your eyes."

She doesn't understand why they have to do this in the middle of the dancefloor without any actual dancing, but she does it anyway.

Her heart stops when a nostalgic feeling of his warm hand along with a thread-like thing that's been missing her wrist comes rushing back. He tells her to open her eyes, and it shocks her how she's still surprised seeing the red string around her wrist, as if it's the first time.

Erina looks up and find his gaze fixed on hers, "I believe that is yours."

She's in an absolute awe. Looking away from her wrist seems impossible that her surroundings, where people dance themselves away, embracing the warmth of a ray of Italian sun, seem so vague, just as their troubles along the way that carry them here. In this moment. No-- this time, there is no competition, power, Elite Ten seats, exes, pride, or denials that stand in their way like it used to.

Only her, Sōma, and their unspoken fate revealing itself with the red strings on their wrists.

"Bet you wanna kiss me so bad, eh, Nakiri?"

So she does. With a pull of his tie, she feels him grinning on her lips.