There were many things Naoto Hayashi expected to hear on a Monday evening.
"Teach me how to cook" was not one of them.
He blinked, still holding a cup of tea in the quiet lounge area of the Hayato mansion. Rika stood by the doorway, arms folded, looking like she was trying very hard to pretend she hadn't just said that.
"I need it for the school festival," she added quickly, avoiding his eyes. "Our class is doing food stalls. My group expects me to help."
Naoto raised an eyebrow. "And... you want my help? Me?"
"I'm not asking because I want to," she snapped. "I'm asking because you owe me. For—being annoying. Constantly."
He let out a quiet laugh. "Wow. Touching. Fine. But if the kitchen burns down, I'm putting your name on the insurance form."
---
Stage One: Egg-xact Disaster
The kitchen was massive. Marble counters, silver appliances, and a fridge big enough to hide a person in—probably by design, knowing the Hayato estate.
Rika stood by the stove like it was an enemy combatant.
Naoto tossed her a plain white apron. "Here. Step one—dress for the battlefield."
She caught it reluctantly. "It smells weird."
"It's mine."
"Explains everything."
Naoto rolled his eyes as he tied his own. "Alright, rookie. Today we conquer: egg fried rice."
"Wow," Rika deadpanned. "What culinary ambition."
"Start with the basics. Then we try something you can actually burn."
"…You enjoy this too much."
"Just wait 'til we reach the chopping phase. You'll see your life flash before your eyes."
---
Kitchen Chronicles: A Tragedy in Three Batches
Batch One: Rika broke the egg too hard. Half the shell landed in the bowl.
Batch Two: She put soy sauce in before the rice. The pan hissed like a demon.
Batch Three: A miracle. The rice didn't stick. The egg was actually fluffy.
Rika blinked in disbelief. "Did I just... succeed?"
Naoto clapped slowly. "I'm as shocked as you are."
She nudged him with her elbow. "I could poison someone with the first two."
"I think they'd die of confusion first."
Despite herself, she laughed—really laughed—for the first time since school started again. And for once, Naoto didn't see a rich girl or a rival.
Just a girl trying. Just a girl being... real.
---
Between Spoons and Silences
They sat at the kitchen counter, sharing the finished rice from the same plate. Rika used her spoon like a critic at a high-end restaurant.
"It's not awful," she said, cheeks slightly puffed with rice.
Naoto grinned. "That's your highest rating yet."
"Don't get used to it."
"I won't. I'll frame it."
She smiled—just a little. And the silence between them this time didn't feel sharp. It felt... settled.
---
Later That Night
Naoto sat on the balcony again, the stars hiding behind a cloudy sky. He pulled out his phone, checking for messages.
A single text blinked from that same unlisted number.
> [Unknown]: "You cooked? That's new."
> Naoto: "Kind of. She cooked. I watched, judged, and survived."
A pause. Then—
> [Unknown]: "Sounds like you're slowly finding something... warm."
He stared at that message a little longer than usual.
And then replied:
> "Maybe. But warm things tend to burn when you're not careful."