"First of all," Chef Tulliver spoke up, her voice slightly echoing off the walls of the Hearthgarden Kitchen, "I want to say that I'm impressed. Genuinely."
The six students standing in a neat line all looked toward her, Aya, Richard, Ciela, Juniper, Orin, and Petra, each with aprons clean and some with hair tied back, their posture half-prepped for dinner service.
"Lunch service earlier today?" the head chef continued, crossing her arms with a proud nod. "Was clean and efficient. There was no wasted effort, no wasted plates. And yesterday, you all pulled through even better than expected. So thank you. Every single one of you."
Hearing those words, Aya couldn't help but beam a happy, earnest smile.
Beside her, Richard looked a little sheepish but pleased with the chef's words, he felt so giddy, he could barely stop himself from rubbing the back of his neck and looking away.
Ciela let out a short sigh, brushing her hands on her apron like she wasn't used to being praised directly.
Juniper smirked, arms folded. "We did crush that risotto line."
Petra then nudged her. "You were in charge of garnish."
"And it was flawless." Juniper wiggled her brows.
Chef Tulliver chuckled. "If some of you keep this up after graduation, I might just offer you jobs myself. Cut out the middlemen."
A few heads looked straight up at that.
"Wait, seriously?" Richard asked.
Aya's eyes widened slightly. "Oh dear, I'm still years away from graduating, but… you mean… as part of your team?"
"Yes, but of course, not now," Chef Tulliver snorted. "So don't get ahead of yourselves."
Juniper grinned. "But we'll get letters of recommendation… right?"
"Probably. We'll find out in the future," the chef shrugged.
At that, there was a light mix of excited chatter among the group, spirits high from the praise. But then Chef Tulliver raised her hand, drawing the mood back into focus.
"However—" she said, "as much as I've pushed you all to treat this like a real kitchen, you're still students. I said you'd be active throughout the event, but that doesn't mean I plan to wring every last drop of effort out of you for free and not let you enjoy what the Summit actually is."
Ciela tilted her head. "Wait… what are you saying?"
"I'm saying—tonight's dinner service? You're off," Chef Tulliver smiled.
"…Off?" Orin repeated, unsure if he misheard.
The chef nodded. "You've earned it. So take the night. Explore the venue. Watch the panel talks, learn something. Or stuff your faces. Act like you're not stuck in a kitchen for once."
Juniper blinked, still surprised. "This isn't a trap, is it?"
Chef Tulliver nodded again. "No trap. Just an honest break."
Ciela crossed her arms. "But what about the kitchen? Didn't they remove some of the original Hearthgarden staff from the roster to make room for us?"
"They did, some of them weren't ready for full event service. But—" the chef then leaned against the counter, "—after speaking with Professor Barlowe and Mr. Smithson, I secured a backup crew. They'll be filling in for you tonight so you can breathe a little."
Hearing that, the students let out a chorus of relieved sighs and minor celebrations.
"That being said," the chef added, "if any of you still find the Summit too boring and want to spend your evening elbow-deep in kitchen work, the Hearthgarden's doors are open."
Richard chuckled. "Duly noted."
"Oh, and one more thing," the chef added, just as a few of them continued to murmur amongst themselves. "If you want to try out dinner service from the other side for once? You're welcome to eat in the dining halls as guests. Just let the wait staff know you're from Hearthgarden Kitchen."
Juniper's eyes lit up at the mention of free food. "You mean like… free free?"
"As long as you don't make a scene," Chef Tulliver answered.
"Chef," Petra spoke up, "are we dreaming? Or are you… really being generous?"
"Hey! When was I not generous? Look, I'm being fair. You've earned that much."
As the mix of chatter and laughter continued, with Juniper already plotting which food to hit first and Orin pretending he wasn't quietly pleased, Aya gently placed a hand over her chest and let out another sigh of relief.
"No dinner service. A night off. Goodness."
"Hey," came Richard's voice beside her, catching her attention.
"Oh! Yes, Richard?" Aya responded as she turned.
"You got any plans for your surprise bit of freedom?"
Aya shook her head. "Nay… nothing in particular. But I'm really happy I can take a bit of time off from the kitchen. It's… been a while."
Richard chuckled. "Yeah, I figured," he then leaned slightly on the prep counter, tail flicking lazily. "Well, if you're up for it… since I've got nothing better to do and there's still plenty of light left, maybe we could wander around the venue together? Check out the Summit properly. You know… see what we've actually been cooking for."
Aya's eyes lit up immediately. "Oh! I'd love that! Truly. We've been so focused on food service, it's like the rest of the Summit's just been passing us by… I really want to see what it's all about."
Richard grinned. "Then it's settled. A dinner date it is!"
Aya blinked at him. "Huh?"
Richard went on, completely calm and casual. "Maybe we'll even get to know each other a little better, huh? I don't know why, but…" he combed his hair using his fingers with a small laugh. "I just find you kinda adorable. Always have. You know… Aya Ribbuns, the pastry saint of the school, who wouldn't?"
Pop.
That was the sound Aya's brain made as her ears shot upright and her face turned red enough to sear pastry.
"A-A d-d-date?!"
She flailed so hard her towel nearly fell from her hand. "Oh R-Richard! You—y-you shouldn't joke like that!"
"Huh?" came a voice not two steps away. "Ohoho? What's this I'm hearing?"
Juniper turned toward them with the grin of someone who had smelled blood. "Richard," she called, already too delighted, "are you asking Aya Ribbuns out on a date?"
"Calm down, June," Richard laughed. "What's wrong with asking her out? Nothing criminal about that, right?"
He turned back to Aya, as if everything was perfectly normal, and asked, "So… you wanna head back to the cabin to get changed first? We could dress up proper if you want."
Aya, meanwhile, was still frozen.
Still red.
Still very much not okay.
"Did he say dress up?"
"Like an actual date-dress-up?!"
Her brain began rolling like a wobbly cake tray on a moving cart.
"Why does everyone call me cute out of nowhere?! Or adorable?! Raveena said that too! Back on campus!"
Juniper waved a hand in front of her. "Hello? Saint Ribbuns? Are we still with the living?"
No response.
"Yikes," Richard chuckled. "Is she okay?"
"It's fine," Aya told herself. "Deep breaths. You're a rational bunny."
But then her mind spiraled further.
"Wait… if this is a dinner date, why am I reacting like this?! I literally invited Raveena to dinner once! In my dorm! We even had lunch together!"
"That's bold, right?! That was bold!"
She clutched her own face now.
"But—no, no, no! That doesn't count! That was me asking! This is… I'm being asked out! That's different! That's terrifying!"
"...Aya?" called Juniper once more.
"Aya, blink if you're alive," Richard said again.
Still no reaction.
"Why am I making such a big deal out of this?!" Aya screamed internally. "Calm down, Aya. It's just dinner. You've had dinner before. You're not thirteen."
She closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose like she read in that one book on composure.
"Inhale. Collect. Look him in the eye. Say yes. It's just dinner."
She lifted her gaze… and saw that Richard was smiling at her gently, and apparently happy that she hadn't burst into flames on the spot. She could tell as soon as she saw his tail give a few wags behind him.
"Hey," he said with a laugh. "Glad you're back with us."
And that's when it happened.
She saw the smile.
Saw the tail.
And had the absurd realization that Richard was actually kind of...handsome?
"Handsome?? Since when?!"
Aya's expression stayed completely neutral this time, but her soul, her very essence, internally imploded like a badly folded soufflé.
And then…
POOOOF!
A massive puff of silvery smoke exploded around her.
"Wh—what the heck?!" Juniper coughed, stumbling back.
"What happened?!" Orin yelped.
Petra was already going for the fire alarm bell out of pure instinct, though it didn't go off as she felt something break when she pulled.
From the far side of the kitchen, Chef Tulliver's voice rang out in alarm. "What in the seven herbs and spices was that?! Did something blow up?!"
"I-I don't know!" Richard waved his arms through the thick cloud, coughing. "Something just—happened!"
Eventually, the smoke slowly began to settle.
There were no signs of a fire. No scorched pans. No exploded stew pots.
Nothing.
Nothing except…
"Wait," Juniper said, blinking through the haze. "Where's Aya?"
Years ago, in a quiet Eastwyn home garden...
The back door creaked open as a little pair of feet stomped onto the mossy stone path.
A small girl, a rabbit-folk no older than ten, stood there in a big wooly coat she clearly hadn't been wearing a minute ago, sniffling loudly with her blanket dragging behind her like a cape. Her pastel pink fluffy ears drooped pitifully on both sides.
It was Aya Ribbuns… from back when she was still a kit.
"I din't do nuffin' wrong!" she cried and thumped her foot, lower lip wobbling. "I couldn't help it, I just… just felt all fluttery-like!"
Her mother was already kneeling by the flowerbed, gently dusting soil from her gloves. Her eyes widened as she saw the state of her daughter. "Oh, winds... sweetheart, what happened?"
"I just wore my dress today because it had the rib-boons Mum!" young Aya sobbed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "An' every'un kept saying it looked cute! And I got all warm and shy-feeling and—and then—poofies!!"
She flung her arms out in the most dramatic display Eastwyn had ever seen.
"And then they laughed! All of them! Even Bobbert… even Sally, Winny, and even Miss Halley! And my new dress got left behind because I poofed!" she cried, cheeks red and puffy. "They had to hide it so the other kits wouldn't play with it! Like I was some toy on dress-up day!"
As she approached, her mother didn't rush her. She simply moved to Aya's side, lowering herself back down to her knees.
"And then…" Aya hiccupped, "then I hid behind the curtains because every'un was suddenly huge and loud and I got scared and I couldn't get my paws out…!"
As the young rabbit-folk continued to sob, her mother reached out and gently wrapped her arms around her warmly. "Oh, Aya," she murmured. "Sweetheart. That's not something to be upset over. Truly, it isn't."
"But they laughed," Aya sniffled, face half-buried in her mother's apron. "And I din't like it. Felt like every'un was making fun of me..."
Her mother giggled softly. "Oh, Aya-bun. They weren't laughing to be mean. Oh nay, not at all. They were just... surprised, I believe. Yes, yes… they'd never seen some-bun do what you can do. You just misunderstood, love."
Aya sniffled again, staring up at her with big, watery eyes. "...R-really mummy?"
"Really," her mum said, brushing her little girl's bangs. "You've got something special, yes you do, yes you do… Not every'un's lucky enough to poof."
"Oh nay… it still din't like it. It felt... embarrassing. Even if it's special…"
Her mother smiled and gently bumped their noses. "Then think of it this way, when you feel embarrassed, try to remember: that special part of you? That's what we old folks call a Trueheart. Not many buns nor any other animal-folk have it. But you do!"
"A... Trueheart?"
"Aye-yes, my darling. It runs in our precious Ribbuns family. Comes with a little puff an' a whole lot of sweet love."
Aya blinked slowly, her little hands still tightly clutching her blanket. Then, with all the seriousness her tiny voice could muster, she asked—
"…Do I gotta poof every time someone says I look cute?"
Her mother couldn't help but laugh. Then she pulled Aya closer and kissed her gently on the forehead, right below and between those damp, downy ears.
"Oh, nay-nay, sweetling," she giggled, brushing her daughter's cheek. "That's not how it works at all."
She settled beside her on the mossy garden step before continuing.
"See now, what it means to be a Trueheart," she said, tapping lightly over the young Aya's chest, "is that we are really good at feeling. Not just a lil' bit, either! So, when your wee heart gets all filled up, fluttering with shy or joy or love or nerves, all tumbling round in there like a dozen dancing dandelions…"
She gave Aya's tummy a little wiggle, making her giggle.
"…you poof! Just like that yes, oh yes. Not because someone called you cute, but because you believed it. You felt it so much you couldn't keep it in. That's what makes a Trueheart, my bun. When your heart goes all full to bursting, it just sort of… shows."
"So… it's not broken? I'm not broken, mummy?"
"Good gracious, no!" Her mother scoffed, cradling her face in both hands. "It's very beautiful. Not many animal-folk get to show their feelings as true as that. Most grown-ups'd give their tails to be that honest."
"But…" Aya frowned. "What if it happens again? What if I poof in class again an' they all laugh again?"
Her mother smiled softly. "Then you hold your chin high, and tell them it just means your heart's working properly, and even better!"
She leaned in, their foreheads touching. "Because being a Ribbuns means we don't hide the things that make us soft. We show them. That's our way! But not just us! Who knows, you may meet a fellow Trueheart soon as well! Wouldn't it be nice to be friends with someone whose heart is true, my bun?"
Aya sat there for a long moment, ears still droopy but eyes now much brighter. Then finally, she mumbled:
"…Can I wear two dresses next time, just in case?"
Her mother laughed and laughed.
"Of course you can, Aya-bun. Of course you can."