"What happened?" Koyuki demanded, racing through the crowd and shoving his way to his side. "Is he—"

"T-Tamura."

"Ninsei, what's going on?" he demanded from his underclassman who was crouched nearby. "Why's Sumio—"

A tug on my sleeve ripped me from the chaos currently occuring before me. It was Miko, whose hair was standing up and about.

"I-I'm so sorry, Kotori!"

Sumio's situation blurred into the background. My heart rate spiked like a drill in my chest. I gripped her back.

"Miko, what's going on?"

"Tadakuni." She was out of breath—on the breaking point of guilt. "I accidentally left the bag out and I guess somebody brought it inside—"

"Food poisoning?" Koyuki demanded.

Sumio grunted, loud enough to fill the room. No longer limp, he hauled himself onto his knees, pale complexion shifting to a sickly colour. "S-s-sorry," he moaned. "My st-stomach... I thought they were ch-chocolate..."

My blood ran cold. The world swayed before my eyes.

Koyuki's frantic yelling for somebody to grab water as he helped him up and to the bathroom. Aoi surfacing the dessert I'd brought with me this morning, exposing the blackened lemon slices and raspberries. Others gasping saying they consumed them, only to add they felt sick to their stomachs also.

The chaos that befell the room hit like a storm, one I could only stand in petrified fear as all scornful eyes in the room drenched me in cold sweat.

"Cupcakes? Those are?"

Distorted faces danced across my vision, not syncing up with the whispers reaching my ears.

"Sick..."

"...raspberry lemon...?"

"Yeah... right..."

"...poison... us..."

"Joke..."

"My stomach...!"

It felt like I'd been stabbed by multiple knives. I plugged my ears, cowering from all the smouldering glares and a still jittering Miko.

"A dessert? Is that girl sane?"

Sorry.

"I-I don't feel so good."

I'm sorry.

"I'm going home," another added, clutching both their stomach and mouth.

I'm so sorry.

Koyuki staggered after returning from the bathroom with Aoi and Hanae. They'd left Sumio to relieve himself. Others ducked outside the cabin excusing they felt nauseas as well.

"I don't want to do this anymore," another whined.

"Is there another toilet?"

"Let me go home already."

The hurt that slapped across Koyuki's face was blatant. It was as if he were watching all his hard work disappear down an invisible drain. But the lump in my throat only thickened the moment his helpless look morphed, and he aimed the nastiest glower I'd ever seen at me.

"You can't bake, and yet you want to start up a 'Baking Society'?" His degrading—but entirely accurate words—replayed like a broken recorder in my mind, stabbing me just as successfully as his dark stare now. "There has to be a limit to how idiotic someone is."

A pastry chef? Yeah, right. A 'Baking Society' was a childish fantasy that only came true in happy-go-lucky movies. Everyone here... It was because of me that everyone in this room not only got sick—possibly even food poisoning—and they were pinning the blame on Koyuki for taking us here.

"That's why, all equivalent exchange aside, I'll do my best to make it a success. I want to make you proud. So, trust me. As long as I, Kotori Teruhashi, have taken the job, you can best believe I'll see it through to the end!"

Every word of optimism that'd left my mouth was wishful thinking. Yeah right, finish this film. Yeah freakin' right get Koyuki to miraculously join a nonexistent club that would rival Okito's haughty butt, all because of my selfish dream.

Passion alone wouldn't take me anywhere. No matter how much I brushed it aside, the truth was... My baking was—

"Disgusting?"

Tears fell from my eyelids, spilling down my cheeks. A skin-crawling silence lapsed through. And despite my blurry vision, I veered my focus toward the source.

Holding the fail of the raspberry lemon cupcake in hand, Chiaki studied it with narrowed eyes.

"Is it really that bad?" he asked aloud. He brought it to his nose to sniff, then his lips. "It doesn't exactly look like a cupcake, but..."

"Ch-Chiaki, don't eat it!" Aoi shouted, yanking his arm back. "You'll just get sick like she wanted."

"I-I didn't..." I stammered pathetically.

An arm snaked around me. I was brought into a comforting sideways hug.

"Kotori didn't bake those to hurt anybody!" Miko shouted in defence. She never rose her voice. "She only wanted to cheer everyone on—"

"Maybe we should cut this film off short," Koyuki interjected.

Head lowered, he'd said the words that brought various reactions from everyone in the room.

"Finally! I'm outta here!"

"No way! We were working so hard!"

But Koyuki didn't say anything more to the words they were shouting. He couldn't. The pain decorating every inch of his face spoke volumes. And I was the one who caused it.

I... I'm really sorry, Tamura.

My croaky thought didn't so much as reach him with the noise level being as high as could be in the room.

"Why... are we cutting it off short?" Chiaki's voice boomed loud enough to silence them in one fell swoop. "What do you mean, Ko?"

"We have to stop filming," he responded, grinding his teeth. "Teruhashi's cupcakes have made almost everyone here sick—"

"Sick or not, she was doing her best." My eyes widened, but Chiaki pressed on, still grappling for words. "She... was working so hard, doing this film we all wanted. Just as Yua made us those sandwiches... she made these cupcakes to cheer us on. Even if they may be bad."

My trembling mouth parted. His words weren't sugar-coated, but they were sincere nonetheless.

"Even so, Chiaki," Koyuki said, something the others in the room clearly failed to follow suit.

"Are you... making fun of her effort?"

Chiaki's abrupt question allowed Koyuki's eyebrows to shoot up.

"You scouted her as 'Sayaka'... because you know she isn't a bad person, right? So then... why aren't you defending her? You should be telling everyone that they're wrong." Chiaki's puppy-like scowl successfully stunned Koyuki into silence. "Even if she sucks that it... are you going to shun her for trying? This isn't any different from back then, Ko. Why can't you realize that?"

Nothing but speechless spectators watched as the teen renowned for his sluggish behaviour chewed Koyuki out.

Koyuki heavily frowned. Ignoring Chiaki's words was almost difficult for him. "Let's just call it a day," he mumbled. "Everyone, go home and rest up. We'll pick things up some other time."

And just like that, everyone in the room took that as their chance to disperse. Some wasted more time than others to gather their belongings, but nobody stopped to address Koyuki or look back upon exiting the cabin. Even Aoi and Hanae didn't do much as sneak a peek his way when informing him that Sumio was still in the bathroom.

Before long, it was only us.

A silent Chiaki and Koyuki. Miko rubbing reassuring circles on my back.

"Are you okay?" she asked, gently. "Ignore what they said. They don't know how much you were thinking about them when you made it. How hard you're working to make your dream come true."

I bit the inside of my lip, unable to bring myself to glance her way.

"Um...?"

I carefully craned my neck to find Chiaki standing before me. A finger underneath his lower lip, he sheepishly pouted.

"Did I," he said, green eyes hopeful, "jump to conclusions? Was I being too harsh?"

I forced a head shake, hurrying to wipe the tears staining my eyelids and cheeks. "It... really meant a lot to me," I snivelled, covering my swollen eyes from him. My mouth moved, praying my gratitude radiated with my next words. "Thank you, Chiaki."

The corners of his lips curved up into a semblance of a smile—one that suited him very much. "You're most welcome, Teru. See you around."

Reaching for the duffel bag he'd brought with him, he swung it over his head and ambled towards the exit.

Teru? my mind echoed. A nickname, even though we barely knew each other?

Chiaki Setoguchi lived in his own world all right.

I spared one last glance in Koyuki's direction. He didn't dare face me in return.

"Let's go, too," Miko whispered.

She turned me away from him and out the doorway. As we walked down the porch steps, snow crunching beneath our boots, I reached for my coat and shielded my face with its hood. I broke down into embarrassing waterworks before long.

"Sorry, Miko. I... Maybe taking up baking was a mistake after all—"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Kotori. Nothing." Although her sniffling was on par with mine, she forced an empathetic grin to cheer me up. "Reality really hits you where it hurts, doesn't it? I wonder why life never seems to favour those who deserve better?"

***

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