Yukihira Sōma was extremely sensitive when it came to death.

Perhaps it was because he had witnessed the death of his mother at a young age, where he couldn't comprehend why his mother's eyes didn't open, why she must go to sleep forever, why she must be placed in a coffin and buried.

She told him she was fine, that there was nothing to worry about it and not to shear tears for.

And the boy believed her words; his heart had been undoubtedly trusted her.

Yet, she had to step onto the road of no return.

Now was his father too.

After the loss of his mother, Jōichirō was his only-considered family that the boy had. He was the person the boy respected and love the most of the entire world. Father became more than a parent; he became a mentor, a rival and friend of the boy.

Wherever he went, Sōma would follow his father's steps.

Only this time the boy would hopelessly watch the father walking the same path as his mother.

The room was white.

White ceilings.

White walls.

And in the middle of the room, Jōichirō lay on the bed.

The same as his mother did once, five years ago.

"Yo Sōma."

Jōichirō vigorous greets his son as if nothing has changed, as everything was back to what things used to be.

Sōma looked at his father – Jōichirō Yukihira's face.

He did not resemble his father that much.

His hair was dishevelled and he looked unsightly. Dark circles adorned his eyes making him look quite a bit older than usual. Seeing like that, Sōma longed for the father who was competing and carefree and calm back in the kitchen.

Alongside the waves of laughter from the customers and their smiling as they ate their food. The 'joy' that Sōma instantly found.

The boy's heart struggle, nevertheless remains tied into a knot per day; suppressed any feelings that could be giving away. But when the day came, and Sōma, who had tried very hard not to let his emotions swell, and kept that smile faded away.

"... I'm sorry."

His voice was shaking, hands too.

"B-But...I don't want you to go pops,"

"Neither do I."

"Yo...ou have to fight it more pops, please."

"And I did, but looks like is my loss."

"Please."

Father interrupted him his words and placed his hand on Sōma's head. Just like his mother used to do, caressing his red-hair.

"You know I am lucky to have a son like you." He said, with a gentle smiled.

Tears flowing from his eyes, that could not stop.

"And next time we see each other you better have many stories to tell your mom and me."

Sōma nods.

"And also we are going to have a cooking contest, so you show me everything you learn."

For some reasons, those words loosened the knot in his heart.

"…. O-of course, but remember pops you ask for,"

Jōichirō laughed and asked.

"Is a promise, right?"

"I will become the greatest chef and defeat you so just wait there for me."

Jōichirō smiled gently and patted his head.

"Take as much time you need, your mom and me we'll be waiting for you."

That same day, at night his father peacefully as if he would wake to the first ray of sunlight; Jōichirō reached the end of the path.

His son was by his side, holding his hand.

It was raining when the grand funeral took place.

It took a few days to arrange it or for someone to do it.

By then, everyone who knew his father had received the news that Jōichirō, the owner of the Restaurant Yukihira had passed away.

He saw familiar faces, owners from other shops in the Sumiredōri Shopping District and regular customers who came to his father's restaurant.

Some other faces showed up that were foreign to him, especially the blonde girl with tears streamed down incessantly. He could see the pain in her face freely, compare to him, his expression did not distort.

He had to be strong for his father and mother, no matter the situation; he swore himself to respond with calmness and stoicism.

His thoughts did not last long. He hasn't got that much of sleep these few days.

But was there a point in going back to the house, to the placed once he called home? Since it was clear, the house became nothing but a hollow cave.

And the kitchen.

When he entered, he saw the kitchen the way his father had left.

He stood there and with a dazed look surveyed the whole room. This was where everything began. Where his father's creation took form and he and mother would spend watching him.

And also when he first received cuisine lessons for the first time in this kitchen.

Later that day, he saw the blonde girl who was beside the man named Senzaemon Nakiri. She didn't speak neither did she look at him, but her gaze was downwards.

Sōma didn't pay much attention to her, due to his focus had been to Senzaemon, who was informing him of how he is his legal guardian, something that his father forgotten to tell him about it.

Sōma looked surprised and for a moment considered the man to lie. Father would have told him, yet he never told him about the disease that was killing him inside.

The man noticed and then gave him another choice.

There's another choice; you could either choose to be sent off to an orphanage or being taken by a man who can help you achieve your dream."

Without a second thought, Sōma pointed at the man.

The man smiled.

"Take what you need, we'll be waiting for you outside."

The man turned and began to walk, the girl looked a bit lost and that's when she looked up for a brief moment their eyes met.

Instantly she turned around and followed the man in front of her.

That would be the first and last interaction that they had in four years.

The first few months, wasn't that easy to settle down in a new environment. Especially when he had a fancy car waiting for him at school, and also a bodyguard follows him everywhere he went. There was no more personal space for him those months.

He also learned new things about his father, how he used to be as a teen by Senzaemon. The elder man summoned him to his office at nights and spent a few hours talking about Jōichirō.

He was the only Nakiri that Yukihira Sōma talked for a whole year.

The other Nakiri, the granddaughter of Senzaemon wasn't a much talker. Even that they live in the same house, they rarely encountered face to face, but when they did, she would walk past him as if he was another servant.

It didn't matter, after all, he did not come to make friends.

It took a whole year for the old man to help with his training.

Although he already started, by opening the Restaurant after school and keep cooking for the people, for his dream. He was only eleven years old, yet it did not stop him.

Nothing could stop the boy, after all, he promised that he would be the greatest chef to his deceased father.

At the age of twelve, he spent the whole year moving place to place and meeting new challenges.

Like his father used to do.

The boy already made a reputation at the age fourteen in the world of food. Mostly known as the 'Unstoppable one'.

He enrolled in the Academy that his father once went, but this time he would finish up graduate.

The truth, he was a bit disappointed, but at the same time slightly glad that he was able to become a member of the Elite Ten Council.

As the 9th seat.

Still, there three years to gain the first spot of Tōtsuki, furthermore the academy was nothing but another stepping stone to reach his goal.

A/N: Sorry for any grammar mistake, but English is not my first language, but I will try one of my betas to look over. Also, thanks for reading it. (Still deciding if I should continue it)