Erina was in no shape to face anyone—let alone a third-year in a Shokugeki. Even handling ordinary dishes from peers had become a strain.
It felt like her world lay under a permanent overcast. Flavors that once brought her joy had lost their light; all that remained were flaws—the God Tongue magnified them until she could hardly breathe.
When a flaw cannot be mended, the curse descends.
Under the same roof, Senzaemon watched his granddaughter's suffering and said nothing—for he knew the price of the God Tongue better than anyone.
He had seen this before. His daughter—Erina's mother—had been pulled into the same despair, step by step.
At last, Senzaemon went to Erina.
"Erina, don't force yourself any further. Go to Shun."
No softening; only the solution.
Erina's head snapped up, resistance flashing across her face. "Grandfather! How could I—"
"You need his cuisine to calibrate and soothe your God Tongue," Senzaemon continued, unblinking. "This is not surrender. It's the strategy you need to win. Lay down pride that serves no purpose. Erina… I do not want you to become like Mana."
That name struck like a hammer.
Her mother's thinning silhouette, walking farther and farther from the family, was a shadow Erina never dared approach. Grandfather's words landed precisely on her deepest fear.
Had he said this days earlier—with this same gravity and a hint of pleading—Erina might have swallowed her tsun and, for the greater good as well as herself, gone to Shun despite her reluctance.
But this morning, Hisako—careful, apologetic, but with no choice—had told her the "bad" news that sent her already frayed heartstrings snapping: Shun and Miyoko were officially together.
On a heart already at its limit, it was the last straw.
A complex, sour wave surged up—loss, hurt, and a whisper of betrayal that she knew had no place there.
The man whose cooking made her very soul tremble—the only one who truly understood and satisfied her God Tongue—now belonged to someone else.
The tiny spark of feeling she had only just allowed to sprout—feelings she wouldn't look at directly, that made her cheeks heat—was crushed.
Go to Shun?
Go while he and another woman shared their sweetness… to show him her frayed, miserable state?
Or worse—go beg for cuisine that might now be meant for someone else?
Absolutely not.
She knew it was unreasonable.
Shun and Miyoko were childhood friends; their being together made perfect sense. She had no standing, no reason to feel anything at all.
But reason is one thing; the heart is another.
That tender, timid bud in her chest was shattered by the sudden news—dealt a second blow that nearly finished her.
How was she supposed to face a third-year Shokugeki like this?
Her whole being recoiled at the thought of seeking Shun.
"I won't go."
Erina bit down on the words, color flaring in her pale cheeks. "Even if I lose the Shokugeki—even if I lose—I won't go to him! I'll handle this myself!"
Senzaemon studied her, a deep weight settling over his weathered face.
He saw in her eyes a pain and struggle beyond the God Tongue—something more tangled than flavor alone.
A brief pause, and the seasoned elder understood.
He did not press. He only sighed—a long, heavy breath—then turned aside without leaving outright.
"Erina, pride is a chef's spine—but too rigid, and it breaks. Sometimes admitting you need help—and accepting it—is true strength. I hope you won't wait until it's too late to learn that. And… Shun is a fine choice."
The last sentence carried meaning. He said no more, and left, the room falling quiet around her.
But his words kept echoing in Erina's mind.
The once-proud God Tongue had become a torment.
She toppled onto the sofa, pressed a cushion over her head, and wrestled with herself.
Go to him?
No—absolutely not!
But then…
The Shokugeki.
Shigeharu Kajiyama was no foe to take lightly. In her current state, she had no chance.
Would she really watch her Elite Ten seat slip away and stain the Nakiri name?
Her God Tongue began to seethe again, a clawing hunger for the ultimate flavor—like ants chewing through her nerves.
She couldn't sit still. The headache rose, biting and relentless.
Worse than hunger.
If, after Shun vs. Kuga, she'd set aside a sliver of pride and gone to him—would things be different now?
The thought flashed and died. Too late to matter.
…
While Erina struggled in her gilded cage, a small figure slipped into the night, hurrying toward the Polar Star Dorm.
Hisako.
She had watched Erina be whittled down by the God Tongue—then by feelings she couldn't voice. She had heard the Commander's counsel.
As Erina's most loyal aide and oldest friend, Hisako could not stand by any longer.
Even if she'd be scolded after. Even if it meant she could no longer stay by Erina's side.
She had to do something.
(End of Chapter)
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