I managed to kill the small fire and silence the smoke alarm. The fire extinguisher foam was everywhere, adding insult to the ruined kitchen. It smelled less like burnt plastic now and more like a thick, chemical cloud. The sight alone was enough to make my organized mind itch.
Himari-san was still frozen, clutching the dish towel. Her wide-eyed panic had cooled into a deep, painful embarrassment. She looked down, her messy ponytail hiding her face. She was the picture of shame.
"I am so sorry, Hoshino-kun," she whispered, her voice tiny and full of defeat. "I'll pay for the damage. I'll hire a professional cleaning service tomorrow. Please, just tell me what it costs."
I looked at the mess—the sticky black lump in the saucepan, the foam on the floor, the ramen noodles spilled in every direction. It wasn't just a sudden accident. It looked like the predictable end of many, many failed attempts.
"Himari-san," I said, my voice calm and matter-of-fact. I didn't want to be mean, but I needed to be clear. "Why were you trying to boil water for instant noodles?"
She flinched at the direct question, like I had hit a weak spot. "I... I was hungry. My parents usually have a housekeeper, but they're away this week. I thought... instant noodles were the easiest thing in the world." She looked up, her eyes wide and pleading. "I truly didn't expect to have a kitchen fire just by trying to eat."
I sighed. My tidy, predictable life was officially over. I was an organized person, and I simply couldn't allow this level of chaos to exist right next door. It would ruin my concentration and my peace. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until this was fixed.
"Alright," I said, putting the extinguisher back on its hook. "First, open the window wide to get this smell out. Second, sit down. You look like you might pass out from the smoke and the stress."
I got a garbage bag, scraped the burnt food into the bin, and started wiping down the stove with a cleaning cloth. Himari-san watched me from a kitchen stool, silent and still. The transformation from the elegant Ice Queen to this confused girl in a faded panda shirt was truly shocking.
"You look like you've never been in a kitchen before," I commented without looking at her.
"I haven't," she admitted quietly. "Everything is always done for me. At school, I'm excellent at everything. I can solve difficult math problems, speak three different languages, and manage fifty students on the council. But outside of that, I can't... do anything practical for myself." She sounded genuinely beaten down.
"I saw that in the library," I replied. "The ladder wasn't a problem with your brain. It was a problem with your body, with common sense."
She nodded once. "And now you know two of my secrets. The first is the one that could have ruined my reputation at school, and the second is the one that is simply... pathetic."
I rinsed the cloth. "It's not pathetic. It's just a skill you haven't learned. Look, I'm not a professional chef, but my parents are gone a lot. I know how to cook simple things and keep a house running."
I opened her fridge. It was perfectly organized, full of expensive bottled water and fresh, untouched vegetables. "All this good food will go bad if you don't use it." I closed the door. "Himari-san, you offered to pay for the damage, but I don't need money."
I turned to her, leaning against the counter. Her eyes were fixed on me, waiting to hear my price.
"You owe me a favor for the library, right?" I asked.
She nodded firmly. "Anything you ask."
"Good. Here's the deal: I can't live next to this smoke-scented disaster zone. It ruins the order of the entire floor. You have all the good ingredients, and I have the knowledge. So, for the next few weeks, until your parents or the housekeeper comes back, I'll teach you how to make three simple, basic meals. Enough so you don't burn down the building or starve."
"You... you would do that?" she asked, her voice full of hope and disbelief. "Why?"
I shrugged, looking back at the sticky black saucepan. "I need you to be able to take care of yourself, and I need the smell of burnt food out of my life. That's my payment." I also wanted to see that tear in her uniform jacket fixed. I wanted the Ice Queen to look perfect again, even if I was the only one who knew about the flaws underneath.
"In return," I continued, making the rules clear, "you will never tell anyone about the library crash or the fire. That part of your reputation stays perfect. Got it?"
A huge, bright smile slowly spread across her face, melting away the fear and embarrassment. It was the first real, unguarded smile I had ever seen on the Ice Queen. It was genuinely beautiful and made her look incredibly soft and kind.
"It's a deal, Hoshino-kun," she said softly. "I accept your terms."
"Okay," I said. "Let's start in my apartment. You're banned from this kitchen until I say so. We'll start with something truly simple. Do you have any rice?"