Zebul finally realized she'd gone overboard and rushed to apologize.
The white fox, now far off, turned back, stuck out her tongue, and made a silly face at her before running off without a second glance.
Zebul stood frozen, then turned to Chiyo with teary eyes.
"What do I do, Chiyo…"
"Kitsune Saiguu's mad…"
She looked like a scolded child, head hung low, anxiously clinging to Chiyo's hand.
"I can't help you with this one. You'll have to figure it out yourself~" Chiyo replied with a teasing smile.
"Come on, Chiyo~ think of something! Sis is totally going to yell at me when she gets back…"
Zebul's big, watery eyes looked like they might spill over any second—it was enough to melt anyone's heart.
"I remember Kitsune Saiguu likes fried tofu. Why don't you buy some and apologize with that?"
Seeing her so pitiful, Chiyo couldn't bear it and offered a suggestion.
Zebul froze for a moment, then suddenly hugged Chiyo. "You're the best, Chiyo! I'll go buy some right now!"
"Wait a sec." Just as Zebul turned to run off, Chiyo grabbed her.
"Huh? What now?"
"A store-bought apology feels kind of half-hearted. Why not make it yourself?"
Zebul's eyes widened, and she stared at Chiyo like she'd just grown a second head. "You want me to cook?"
"Yeah! It's way more sincere that way." Chiyo nodded, clearly pleased with her idea.
"You're serious? You're sure this is an apology gift, not a farewell one?"
Clearly, Zebul had a very honest grasp of her cooking skills.
Ever since Sasayuri barely recovered a week after eating her last attempt, she hadn't stepped into a kitchen again.
Good thing it had been Sasayuri—a real tank. If it had been a regular person, they probably would've disintegrated on the spot.
"Don't worry, I'll guide you. It'll be fine," Chiyo said, full of confidence.
She figured the disaster last time was because Zebul had been left to wing it. First-time cooking meltdowns—even literal ones—were pretty normal.
So Chiyo was sure that with proper guidance, they could avoid another culinary catastrophe.
"Really…?" Zebul asked, clearly lacking confidence.
"Yep! Don't worry, my fried tofu turns out great."
"But I'm the one making it…" Zebul said nervously.
"I'll be teaching you, so it's practically me making it. No problem!"
"Alright… I'll try…"
On the battlefield, Zebul was a goddess of war—cutting down enemies without hesitation. In daily life though, she was utterly useless.
Couldn't cook, couldn't clean—just ate, played, and had fun. She and her sister were total opposites.
With her sister Baal now in Celestia, she'd actually been wondering whose place she could crash for dinner next.
If Chiyo could really teach her to cook, that would be amazing!
...She'd surprise her sister when she got back for sure!
That thought lit a fire in Zebul's eyes.
...
A bit later, Chiyo came back with three portions of fried tofu.
She figured even someone hopeless could learn to make one dish after trying three times—it couldn't possibly come out that bad.
Besides, fried tofu wasn't a gourmet dish. Toss in some seasonings, give it a stir, and that was it.
But it didn't take long before the kitchen echoed with signs of trouble.
"You're supposed to slice the ginger. Thin slices, not hack it into chunks."
Chiyo watched in horror as Zebul chopped the ginger in half with one swing, about to toss it into the pot. She quickly stopped her.
"Slices?" Zebul tilted her head, baffled.
"Let me show you." Chiyo grabbed the knife and effortlessly sliced a few neat pieces of ginger.
"See? Like this. Thin slices."
"Ohh… I got it. Don't worry."
Zebul took the knife back, carefully pressing the ginger down to slice it.
But the moment she applied pressure, the ginger started shaking—like it had Parkinson's—wiggling awkwardly on the cutting board.
"Stop moving, will you…"
Zebul grew flustered, clearly struggling to keep the tiny lump of ginger in place.
Chiyo glanced at the half-cut ginger, one side floating in the air, and fell silent.
Wouldn't any normal person place the flat side on the board for stability?
She couldn't quite understand why Zebul had chosen the uneven side.
"Um, Zebul, maybe you should—"
"I said don't move!"
BOOM!!!
A thunderous crash rang out as Zebul slammed the countertop in two. The poor ginger beneath her palm suffered a fate it never deserved.
It...
was smashed into paste.
"Hehe… Oops. Guess I used too much force," Zebul said with an awkward grin.
Chiyo's face darkened as she looked at the wreckage.
"Maybe... I overestimated myself," she muttered.