"Stop spacing out, Akira. Takagi-san and I are heading to the baking classroom first."
Shouko stood up and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. Akira had been staring blankly at the front door.
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you."
After seeing him nod, Shouko didn't bother saying more and walked out, Takagi Sana trailing behind her.
Akira watched the two girls leave, chatting and laughing. He stretched lazily, turned back, and spotted Nishikata Naoto still staring at the doorway they had disappeared through.
Akira waved a hand in front of his face.
"Nishikata, snap out of it. They're already gone."
He knew Nishikata had a crush on Takagi. He just wasn't sure how deep it ran.
"Oh... right!"
Once Nishikata had fully come to, the two boys headed toward the baking classroom together.
After spending a week with the class, Akira realized he only really knew a handful of people.
Besides Nishikata and Shouko, there was the class monitor—Ajitani Ayumi—who had been elected by unanimous vote on the second day of school.
She left a vivid impression: light golden hair tied into twin tails, straight-cut bangs, and bright amber eyes. Her look struck a perfect balance between lively and well-mannered.
According to memory, the baking classroom was on the second floor of Building 2. It took them five or six minutes to get there.
Sunlight slanted through the diamond-patterned grilles, casting honey-gold patches across white marble countertops.
Hand-painted recipe cards lined the walls, edges of yellowed craft paper pinned down with magnets. They fluttered in the breeze like delicate butter-yellow wings.
Six vintage green enamel ovens sat in a row by the windows. The glass doors bore years of caramel stains that hadn't quite washed off.
"Akira! Over here!"
Before he could scan the room, Shouko waved from the leftmost workstation.
Only then did he notice the layout: sixteen maple tables arranged in a crescent arc below the marble counters. Each station had a polished obsidian cutting board set into the wood, brass scales, enamel measuring cups, and stainless-steel whisks hanging overhead that clinked together like tiny wind chimes.
Akira and Nishikata made their way over.
"It's kinda far from the front. Will we even be able to see Mr. Higashi Ii's demonstration?" Akira asked.
"Don't worry—"
Dong... dong…!
The class bell cut Shouko off.
At the same time, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Heads turned toward the sound.
A man with long hair, a bold floral shirt, and dramatic posture leaned lazily against the doorframe.
That would be their home economics teacher: Mr. Higashi Ii.
Akira had a hunch that the flamboyant man might be gay—but it was just a guess.
"Alright, kids. Save your chatting for later. Home Ec class will be over before you know it."
Mr. Higashi strolled leisurely to the front counter, eyes scanning the students. His gaze paused on Akira for half a beat before moving on.
"Everyone, pair up. You'll be baking butter cookies using the recipe I taught last week."
As soon as he finished, the room erupted into a scramble of students shuffling and calling out names.
Shouko came to Akira's side. "Let's pair up."
Before he could agree or refuse, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to an empty table off to the side.
He let her pull him, but once they stopped, he raised an eyebrow. "What about your Takagi-san?" He had half-planned to pair up with Nishikata.
"Takagi's with Azegaya-san," Shouko replied, waving it off like it was nothing.
Dong dong dong…
Seeing that the room hadn't quieted, Mr. Higashi rapped on the counter again. "Now that you've all formed groups—quiet down."
"Each group, send one person to the lockers to get your ingredients."
Shouko nudged Akira. "Go on."
"You're so bossy," he grumbled, pinching her cheek before walking off.
He made his way to the walnut cabinets at the front, each one fitted with frosted glass and labeled with ingredient names. Some still had sugary residue clinging to the tags.
He quickly gathered everything from the butter cookie recipe and returned to the table.
As he unloaded the ingredients, Shouko hesitated.
"Um… Akira… have you ever made cookies before?"
She was trying to ask delicately—Takagi had warned her that boys sometimes had fragile pride. Better not to say she doubted him outright.
Akira seemed to get her meaning. He set the bag of flour on the table and said quietly:
"I'll just help out. I'm not great at this kind of stuff."
"Okay!" she said brightly.
Mr. Higashi clapped his hands from the front.
"Inside each desk drawer, you'll find two brand-new aprons. These are yours to keep. From now on, any time we do baking or hands-on cooking, you'll need to bring them."
He even winked as he said it. A few students visibly shuddered.
Shouko crouched down and pulled out two green aprons sealed in plastic.
Akira reached for one, but she dodged, grinning.
"Who said the helper gets to wear one?"
"I'll tie it for you."
"In front of everyone? Isn't that awkward?"
"No one's paying attention. We're just side characters in their lives, remember? Plus, we're off to the side. Nobody's watching."
Shouko rolled her eyes but opened one of the packages.
Akira didn't push the point. Since she wasn't worried, neither was he.
She unfolded the apron, walked behind him, and stood on tiptoe to loop the strap around his neck. Her hair brushed his neck, and he instinctively flinched.
Grinning mischievously, Shouko tied a tight double knot behind his back.
"All done."
She stepped back and admired her handiwork. "You actually look kinda cool in it."
"My turn." Akira picked up the second apron and walked toward her.
Shouko blushed. "Ehh? Now it's awkward..."
Akira sighed. "You said it yourself—no one's watching. Turn around."
"Fine, fine." She turned quickly, wanting to get it over with. Even if people did see… as Takagi had said, it would just be like saying: Hey, this guy's taken.
Akira slipped the apron over her head and—perhaps accidentally—tied a knot so tight it could double as a zip tie.
She'd find out eventually.
From the next table, whispers began.
"Look, look…"
"Don't push! I'm trying to see!"
"They're really just tying aprons in front of everyone? Bold."
"Ugh, I'm jealous…"
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