"Then why are you sneaking after me?"
永恒流星 narrowed her eyes at 黄金船, who was fiddling with her phone as if she were up to something. After they'd installed the charger, she could've just said she was tagging along. Instead, she'd chosen to tail her.
And of course it had to happen right when Meteor was planning a surprise for her.
"Because it's cool," Gold Ship said with a straight face, striking a series of dramatic poses. "A bodyguard with stealth camouflage. Hiding and protecting you when you don't even know I'm there."
Then she pushed up an imaginary pair of glasses.
Meteor pressed a hand to her forehead. Somehow, ever since meeting Gold Ship, she'd become a nonstop commentary track.
"But I already saw through you."
"Which brings me to the next question." Gold Ship abruptly spun around, tossed the two twigs into a trash bin at lightning speed, smoothed her rumpled clothes, and turned back with the tone of someone who had just run into Meteor by coincidence.
"So, what are you doing at the supermarket?"
That topic change was so stiff it creaked.
Also—so much for "priceless stealth items." Those were definitely random branches she'd snapped off somewhere. Possibly from the same tree that 成田白仁 liked to chew on.
Meteor decided that if she argued seriously, she'd already lost. She sighed and let it go.
"I'm getting cakes for Christmas gifts."
Gold Ship's eyes lit up.
"Wait—does that include me?"
"Of course."
After all, she'd promised. And Gold Ship had built her a wheelchair so absurdly perfect it was honestly criminal. Meteor couldn't remember exactly what had started that promise anymore, but the conclusion was obvious: Gold Ship was getting cake.
"Then what are we waiting for? Go, go, go!"
Gold Ship kicked the supermarket door open like she owned the place and waved her inside.
"Coming."
Meteor shook her head, dropped the thought she'd been chasing, and rolled in after her. If it was important, it would come back. If not, forgetting it was fine.
Gold Ship followed Meteor around the aisles like an overexcited reporter.
"Why are you buying this toy car?"
"For the cake."
"And this bee model?"
"Also for the cake."
"And that one…?"
"Stop asking," Meteor said, deadpan. "Everything is for the cake."
Only once they reached the ingredients section did Gold Ship finally quiet down.
By the time they got through checkout, the cart was so full it looked like they were stocking up for a small apocalypse. Worse—the kitchen schedule at Tracen Academy was creeping closer. They had less than an hour before the staff started cooking.
Meteor looped extra plastic bags over the wheelchair armrest, hung everything carefully so it wouldn't swing too hard—
Then she gestured at Gold Ship.
"Up."
Gold Ship climbed onto the side platform grips without hesitation.
Meteor shoved the control sticks forward—all the way.
The wheelchair launched.
Drivers they passed stared like they'd seen a cursed omen. Pedestrians froze mid-step. The world blurred. Wind tore at their hair. The bags trembled but held.
They made it back to school at an illegal-looking speed.
Before the cafeteria started work, Meteor stuffed everything that needed refrigeration into a corner of the fridge like she was hiding contraband.
They ate lunch together.
Then Meteor returned to the back kitchen to prep.
Gold Ship, predictably, began "helping" by stealing samples.
At first Meteor tolerated it. Then she noticed the rate of disappearance. Then she realized the alarming truth:
At this pace, there would be nothing left to gift.
"Out," Meteor said, pointing at the door.
Gold Ship tried to look innocent with cream on her lip.
Meteor pointed again, more sharply.
Gold Ship retreated.
By the time the sun was yawning and slipping toward evening, the cakes were finished and fully decorated.
Five small cakes sat on the table—each with its own personality.
Meteor stared at them, satisfied. Her skills hadn't rusted. Not even close.
For 东海帝王
Mango filling, wrapped in honey syrup, with a tiny bee perched on top. Simple, sweet, warm—like the kind of kindness that refuses to be ignored.
For 丸善斯基
Red berry glaze and strawberry filling. On top, a short strip of "road" carved from white chocolate, with a little red toy sports car posed in a drifting angle—perfectly committed to speed.
For 千明代表
Meteor didn't know her preferences, so she went with a classic: whipped cream and fruit. A neat chocolate plaque stood upright with her name in English.
For someone else
Another carefully made cake—distinct, polished, clearly targeted.
The biggest and most dramatic cake of them all
Three layers of chocolate—white, dark, milk—stacked like a declaration. Apple filling in the middle. A black crown dominating the top, and blueberries scattered around it like jewels.
Gold Ship reappeared at the doorway the instant she sensed completion, peeking in like a cat that could smell fish.
She zeroed in on the giant crown cake immediately.
"That one! The biggest one! That's mine, right?!"
Meteor didn't even blink.
"Dream on. That one is yours."
She pointed.
Gold Ship followed the direction—
And saw the only cake with zero decoration. A plain white round, just frosting over sponge. It looked like the "before" stage of baking tutorial.
Gold Ship's jaw fell open.
"Hey! That's discrimination! I'll cry right now. I swear I'll do it!"
She squeezed her cheeks with both hands and forced a fake sob face.
Meteor snorted.
"I'm not discriminating. Yours is probably the best tasting one here."
Then she waved Gold Ship over.
"Come here. I think this step should be yours."
Meteor pulled out the leftover jars of colorful jam and the bowls of melted chocolate she'd kept warm over hot water, and pushed them toward Gold Ship.
Gold Ship froze.
"What… am I doing?"
"Decorating," Meteor said. "However you want. Draw whatever you feel like."
Gold Ship's expression went still for a second—then she grew serious, like an artist receiving a sacred commission.
She dipped a brush into mango jam.
And began painting.
Meteor raised the wheelchair height a little, leaned in to watch—
…and immediately had to stop herself from committing a felony.
Yellow lines. Twisted, crisscrossing, writhing strands.
More lines.
More wriggles.
The mess slowly formed a single, unmistakable shape.
A block of instant noodles.
Meteor's fist clenched.
Then loosened.
Then clenched again.
She closed her eyes and let it go.
Fine. It was Gold Ship's cake. If it made her happy, it was valid. Even if it was culinary vandalism.
"You done?"
"Done."
Meteor took the brush back, rinsed it, dipped it into strawberry jam, and wrote quickly across the top:
"Made together by Eternal Meteor & Gold Ship."
Then she pushed the cake into Gold Ship's arms and held up her phone.
"Photo."
Gold Ship blinked, but obediently leaned in. Meteor snapped a selfie.
"There," Meteor said, satisfied. "Now it actually means something. And since you're here… why don't we just eat it? I'm honestly curious what it tastes like."
She reached to take the cake back to place it on the table.
Gold Ship dodged.
Meteor reached again.
Gold Ship dodged again—then retreated to the wall, clutching the cake like it was a priceless heirloom.
"What are you doing?" Meteor stared. "You're not hungry? Saving it for later?"
"No!" Gold Ship shook her head violently. "I'm preserving this forever. At my house!"
"It'll go bad. Hand it over."
"I'll… figure something out!"
"If you don't eat it now, you're never getting cake from me again."
Gold Ship's entire body deflated.
"…Okay."
She shuffled forward with exaggerated sorrow, each step heavy like a condemned prisoner.
Meteor watched for two seconds, couldn't stand it, rolled up, and snatched the cake back onto the table.
"Fine. We'll cut it together."
Gold Ship glared like she'd been robbed of a treasure chest.
Meteor ignored her and placed the knife.
One large hand.
One small hand.
Together on the handle.
They sliced down.
As the cake opened, Meteor's smile slowly curved upward.
Because inside that plain white exterior—
was chaos.
Bright layers of jam: strawberry, blueberry, orange, mango—stacked by sweetness and acidity in careful order. A cross-section like a stained-glass window.
Gold Ship went quiet.
Meteor looked at the layers, then at Gold Ship's face.
The more she stared, the more she realized it fit too well.
Gold Ship was exactly like this cake.
A ridiculous surface that made people groan.
And an inside that was loud, colorful, complicated—
and somehow always made everyone around her smile.
Meteor shifted her weight, bracing herself with her right arm, then leaned sideways and hugged Gold Ship with one arm, rubbing her cheek lightly against her shoulder.
"Thanks," she said softly. "For making my dream real."
Then she picked up a plate.
"Now eat. Together."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter116)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 118
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 111
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 80
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 112
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 80
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 74
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 48
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 50
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 47
Uma Musume: From Beginner 42
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin