[Sumeragi Household]
The sweet scent of butter and sugar filled the kitchen as Akari Sumeragi carefully measured flour into a mixing bowl.
"Alright, Haruya, sift this for me," she instructed, sliding the sieve toward him.
Haruya rolled up his sleeves, frowning. "You make it sound easy, but last time I tried, half of it ended up on the counter."
"That's because you were shaking it like you were trying to start an earthquake," Akari teased, her gentle smile brightening the already warm kitchen. "This time, nice and steady."
He sighed but did as told, carefully moving the sieve back and forth until all the white powder fell in soft clouds.
Akari nodded approvingly. "Better. See? Baking isn't about rushing—it's about patience. Treat the ingredients kindly, and they'll return the favor."
"Sounds like some kind of secret family philosophy," Haruya muttered, though his actions became more honest.
"Of course," Akari said proudly. "This is a Sumeragi household tradition. And today, we're making something extra special—the cake promised for your friend's family."
At the mention of Nagisa, Haruya straightened slightly. "Right. Gotta make sure it turns out perfect then."
Akari raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? You don't usually sound this motivated. Could it be that you care about impressing someone?"
"Mom!" Haruya groaned, his face heating up. "It's not like that! I just… don't want to embarrass you."
"Mmhm, sure," she hummed, clearly unconvinced but choosing not to press further. She handed him a whisk. "Alright then, prove it. Beat those eggs until they're fluffy. And no shortcuts this time—by hand."
Haruya stared at the bowl, then at the whisk, then back at his mother. "…This feels like child labor."
Akari chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Call it training. Someday, you'll thank me when you can bake something sweet for someone important."
Complaining under his breath, Haruya began whisking, his arms moved in motions as the bowl kept slipping slightly as his arm worked. "Ugh… how long do I have to keep this up?"
"Until your arm falls off," Akari replied cheerfully as she began preparing the strawberries. "Cooking isn't just about taste, it's about effort too. The people eating should be able to feel the work you put in."
'I'd say your cooking also needs to lessen up on its taste too.' Haruya inwardly complained.
After a minute of furious whisking, Haruya's arm was already starting to ache. "Mom… I think I'm about to lose my arm."
"That just means you're doing it right," Akari said, completely unfazed. She came close and peeked over to check the mixture and gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Keep it up a little longer."
"Unbelievable…" Haruya muttered, feeling his arm being rejuvenated by Adaptability, he continued. "If this doesn't make me buff, I'm demanding a refund on life."
Akari laughed softly. "You know, you're helping a world-renowned pastry chef in the kitchen. A lot of pastry chefs would kill for this opportunity."
"...Too bad you're my mom," Haruya sheepishly grinned, slowing his whisking. "I wouldn't blame them, you make the best cake in the world."
"Except now," Akari said, looking at him warmly, "you're helping me make the cake you've always loved."
Something in her tone made Haruya pause. He lowered his head a little, muttering, "Yeah, well… guess I've grown a little."
When the eggs were finally fluffy, Akari let Haruya rest while she folded the batter together with well-practiced movements. "Alright, get the oven ready. And don't set it on fire this time."
"I don't think you can use that joke on me after your cooking 'practices,' Mom."
Haruya laughed out loud, earning a light knock to the head from his mother.
"You didn't have to say it out loud," Akari pouted.
Once the cake was in the oven, the kitchen felt a lot calmer than before; the only sounds coming from the ticking timer and the faint noise of holiday music drifting in from the living room.
Haruya leaned against the counter, catching his breath, while Akari began slicing fresh strawberries with steady precision.
"Want to try decorating when it's done?" she asked without looking up.
Haruya blinked. "Me? You trust me with that?"
"You need practice. And besides…" Akari's lips curved into a knowing smile. "It'll mean more if the cake has your effort in it too. Wouldn't your friend be happier with that?"
Haruya scratched his cheek, embarrassed. "Fine. But if it ends up looking like a disaster, don't blame me."
"I won't," Akari promised softly. "After all, my son poured his heart into it."
When the oven timer finally rang, the cake sponge came out golden and fragrant. Haruya helped transfer it to the counter, trying not to make it fall over.
"Don't touch it yet," Akari warned immediately. "It has to cool down a bit."
"Okay, got it," he replied seriously.
By the time they finally layered the whipped cream and strawberries, Haruya's hands were very sticky, his apron barely helped the flour get to his shirt, and his pride was hanging by a thread.
But when he placed the last strawberry on top, he found himself celebrating despite the mess.
"Finally!" he jumped up. "And it doesn't look half-bad at all!"
If his Adaptability could show his proficiency in skills, then he would most likely see his baking skills go up quickly.
Akari stepped back to admire their work. "See? Beautiful. And tomorrow, when you hand this to your friend's family, I'm sure she'll be happy."
Haruya quickly looked away, hiding his flustered expression. "Y-yeah, well… it's just a cake."
"Mm, just a cake," Akari teased her son, as though she knew better.
"So tell me about this friend of yours," Akari leaned over the countertop and placed her hands under her chin, obviously plotting something.
Haruya stiffened, already sensing where this was going. "What's there to tell? She's just... a classmate of mine."
"Just a classmate who almost cried when you praised her?" Akari tilted her head. "That doesn't sound very just to me."
Haruya groaned. "You're making it sound weird on purpose."
"That's because it is a little weird," she replied with a teasing chuckle. "Most boys your age can't even be bothered to notice how someone else is feeling. But you… You pat her head, comfort her, bake her a cake…"
"I'm not baking her a cake! It's for her family!" Haruya argued, pointing at the masterpiece they had recently made, like it were his strongest piece of evidence.
Akari raised an eyebrow at him. "Mm-hm. And who suggested it in the first place?"
"…You did," he muttered.
"Exactly." She tapped his forehead gently. "But you agreed so fast. That says a lot."
Haruya clicked his tongue, clearly defeated. "You're impossible."
"And you're too easy to read." Akari's eyes softened. "But that's what makes you a good boy."
"Mom..."
"And another mystery in the Sumeragi household by none other than me!"
Akagi raised her head and laughed haughtily.
"Eurgh..." Haruya could only watch his mother with black lines in his forehead.
"Can you just please help guide me with my next pastry? Don't help this time."
"My little boy is growing up so fast..." Akari put her hands together and stared at him lovingly.
"Mom!"
[Kubo Household]
Nagisa stared blankly at the well-wrapped gift in front of her.
'I wonder if this is a suitable gift for him... Is this even an appropriate thing to use?' She scratched her head in annoyance.
'Aah! Why didn't I try to observe and ask him about things he liked before?!'
The young girl face-planted herself on the desk in frustration.
Akina silently stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, watching this all happen.
'Looks like my lovely little sister is having gift troubles. Cute!'
Looking at Nagisa lovingly from behind, she put both of her hands on her face and enjoyed the moment.
Akina finally stepped into the room, letting out a soft laugh. "Nagisa, what's with the dramatic flop? You look like the world's about to end over a gift."
Nagisa looked back at her and groaned from the desk, barely lifting her head. "I just… I don't know if this is good enough for him. What if he doesn't like it?"
Akina walked closer, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. "Let me see." She reached for the gift, giving it a quick inspection before raising an eyebrow. "Hmm… honestly? Not bad. A little strange, but you're overthinking it, as usual."
Nagisa pouted. "Overthinking? I just want it to be perfect!"
Akina smirked, shaking her head at her sister's thoughts. "Perfection isn't the point, you know. It's all about showing you care. And judging by the way you've been stressing over it, I'd say that's already obvious."
Nagisa blinked, a small smile appearing at her lips. "You really think so?"
"Of course," Akina said, nudging her playfully. "But don't worry. If it helps, I'll give you a little tip: a tiny note inside always makes it feel more personal. Even if the gift itself is simple."
Nagisa's eyes brightened. "A note… that's a pretty good idea!"
Akina leaned back, folding her arms. "See? Crisis averted. You're welcome. Now stop making that face and go write it before you overthink it into another meltdown."
Nagisa giggled softly, finally feeling some relief. "Thanks, Akina-nee… I'll do it."
Akina waved her off, still teasing. "Don't mention it—but don't get too sappy now, okay? I don't need my little sister turning into a puddle of embarrassment over a boy."
Nagisa rolled her eyes at her sister's teasing, but her hands moved to her notebook eagerly. "Got it… sappy-free, I promise!"
Akina chuckled, watching her with a mix of amusement and affection as her sister worked, already feeling a little proud of herself.