Chapter 32 — Yui's Cake!
A faint growl echoed from his stomach.
"Do I… really have to eat this…?"
Yukinoshita Akira gulped, his throat dry. He had crossed between two entire worlds without flinching, yet now—faced with a certain blackened pastry—his confidence wavered.
"Of course you do," Yukinoshita Yukino replied, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Don't worry. If anything happens, I'll call an ambulance immediately."
She held out her phone, already displaying the emergency number, her finger hovering just above the call button.
Meticulous. Far too meticulous.
Akira's expression soured. She definitely did that on purpose.
"Akki-kuuun~!"
On the other side, Yuigahama Yui stared at him with eyes sparkling full of hope. Her gaze alone could melt the heart of any man—though it only made Akira sweat harder.
If a guy had asked him this, he would've kicked him without hesitation. But this? This was a girl. A cheerful, innocent girl. How the hell was he supposed to say no?
Reluctantly, Akira stepped toward the table and picked up a piece of the questionable cookie.
The surface was pitch black, with small, unidentifiable lumps embedded in the dough. They were supposed to be chocolate chips, but they had completely fused into the scorched mass.
…Crunch.
The sound of his teeth breaking through the burnt surface rang softly in the air.
He placed the cookie into his mouth.
And then—an explosion of chaos burst across his taste buds. A wild, swirling storm of flavor that had no logic or direction.
Sweet. Bitter. Sour.
And… other things. Things he couldn't even identify.
Watching his face twist into various shades of internal agony, Yukino let out a quiet chuckle.
It was rare. Like a snow-white edelweiss blooming at the edge of a frozen cliff.
Too bad no one could fully appreciate such a moment.
A few seconds later, Yukino handed him a glass of water, her face still half-amused, half-concerned. Akira snatched it gratefully and gulped it all down, desperate to purge the toxic aftertaste lingering in his mouth.
"How is it? Delicious, right?"
Yuigahama asked with unshakable enthusiasm, her round hair buns bouncing as she leaned in.
Akira and Yukino exchanged a glance, then turned their eyes to Yui simultaneously.
This girl… was she just blissfully naïve, or dangerously optimistic?
Did she not see his face?
"Yuigahama-san," Yukino said calmly, "may I offer you a piece of advice?"
"Of course! What is it?"
"Could you… maybe leave baking to someone else? Like Yukinoshita Yukino-san, for example. She's clearly more suited for it."
"But… if someone else makes it, then it's not really mine anymore…"
"No, no," Akira cut in gently. "It's not about who bakes the cake. It's about why you want to make it."
"Eh? Well, I…"
Yui fidgeted nervously at the question.
Her eyes darted around, fingers twisting together, her foot tapping lightly against the floor. A flurry of awkward, restless movements.
"Is it something difficult to say?"
"Y-Yeah… Actually, I wanted to thank someone. They helped me out a lot, and I thought… maybe I could show how grateful I am."
"Err…"
Akira looked back at the scorched pastry still in his hand… then back at Yui, who smiled so innocently it hurt.
So this… was gratitude?
In anime, moments like these usually seemed heartwarming and sweet. But living through one in real life?
This cake was a straight-up hazard.
"To be honest… I don't think this is a gift of gratitude. It's more like an attempted poisoning."
"Mouuu~ Akki-kun! That's mean! Even if it's you, I can still get mad, you know!"
"It's the truth. If you don't believe me, why don't you try one?"
Akira lifted the plate of "Yui's homemade cookies" and offered it to her.
Finally, the age-old mystery was solved—had she ever tasted her own creations?
"U-umm… I'm actually not really hungry right now…"
Yui averted her eyes instantly, politely dodging the offer.
Akira placed one hand over his face in exasperation.
Seriously… were the laws of anime truly real? Were all pink-haired girls secretly dangerous behind that cheerful exterior?
No—she knew. She knew how terrifying her cookies were.
From the corner of the room, Yukino eyed her own plate of cookies, then glanced at the charred remains Yui had created.
This was supposed to be a simple batch of chocolate chip cookies. How did it go so wrong?
"Yuigahama-san," she said after a moment, "it's okay if you mess up on the first try. What matters is identifying the mistakes and working to improve them."
"Right! I get it!"
Yui, ever the optimist, beamed and nodded with enthusiasm.
Still… some time later, another plate of cookies appeared before the group. Admittedly, they looked slightly better than before—but just barely.
"How… how are you still making so many mistakes? Do I need to teach you in a different way for it to finally sink in?"
Even Yukino, the picture of calm and patience, was starting to lose it.
She had explained every step with painstaking detail, yet the outcome remained as disastrous as ever.
Akira, meanwhile, was speechless.
In terms of cooking skill, Yuigahama Yui was a black mark on culinary history. A walking, smiling kitchen disaster.
He had watched the entire process unfold from start to finish.
And he finally understood the root of the problem.
Yuigahama Yui… was a complete beginner.
Yet she insisted on adding her own "personal touch" to everything—based on nothing but gut feeling.
For example, when the recipe called for a pinch of sugar, she added an entire tablespoon. Probably worried it wouldn't be sweet enough.
The result? A taste so cloying it made his teeth ache.
Then, the recipe recommended baking the cookies for 20–30 minutes, depending on the oven.
Yui?
She went with the full 30 minutes… and added more time after that. As if worried it wouldn't be fully baked.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
Her version of baking resembled a chaotic science experiment, where measurements were suggestions and logic was optional.
"Maybe… I'm just not cut out for baking after all. I don't have the talent, or the skill. And if the results are going to be like this, maybe I should just stop trying. It's not like I'm the social type anyway. Hahaha…"
She laughed awkwardly, forcing a smile as she glanced toward Yukino and Akira.
But Akira's expression shifted.
That sentence… it brushed up against something Yukinoshita Yukino would never let slide.
To her, giving up because of "lack of talent" was the worst excuse possible. She believed in effort, in trying earnestly and learning through failure—not running away from it.
And those words from Yui… had just touched a line she never allowed to be crossed.
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