"Kotori, I've had enough."

The words from my mother first thing Saturday morning were like a sword piercing through my heart.

"Are you throwing me out?"

"I will if you don't get a part-time job."

She kept out a firm arm to block the entrance to the kitchen—my destination before she'd intercepted me. Her curly bangs draped her cheeks quite messily, the rest of her hair pulled back in a loose bun. Her office clothes and overall formal appeal only made her stern scowl more intimidating.

"You keep wasting the groceries I buy, ruining my dishes, and expect me to go shopping every day for your needs. If you're really serious about this whole baking thing, you need to be able to support yourself."

My jaw had fallen, the gears in my mind twisting to digest this foreign lecture. Clean your room, wash the dishes, focus on your studies—it was menial, everyday tasks such as those that she loved to berate me on. I was the easily distracted type, so a little reminder here and there helped me get things done. But this...

"You want me to get a... job?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes at the way I'd said it, folding her arms across her blazer. "That thing that is perfectly normal in a society? The thing Miko manages just fine?"

All at once, the dots connected, and I was hit with another pan to the face. "But Miko's Miko!"

"That is not an argument. Miko is your age and works to support herself and her needs. It's very admirable."

"But—"

"I'm serious," she stressed, in her 'end-of-discussion' tone. "Find a part-time job or you're not baking in this house again."

I could only blankly gawp as she slipped right by me and into the living room, up to Sota plopped in front of the TV, watching his favourite ninja show.

"Come on," she prodded, reaching for his hand to get him up on his stubby legs. "We have to go."

Once standing, Sota emitted a tiny giggle as he shielded his mouth with his hand. "Koto got yelled at."

I childishly stuck out my tongue.

He gasped, all amusement vanishing from his features. His head jerked up. "M-Mommy, Koto stuck her tongue out at me."

"Kotori, leave your brother alone."

Of course I was the victim. Why did something like that hurt his feelings when he was the one mocking me a second ago? Children had weird standards.

"Anyway, I'm taking Sota to the daycare," she told me after slipping on her heels and Sota fastened on his sneakers at the door. "Spend today searching for some jobs online. And don't forget to lock the door if you're going out. When I come home, I can help you apply. Also, if you have some free time—which you definitely will—bring in the mail."

My heart sunk in my chest. She was serious? I dashed after her but she was already down the hall, hand in hand with my little brother.

I knew her concerns were reasonable. That I'd been nothing but a bother since I took up baking and nearly burnt down the house every morning since. I'd wasted countless dishes—ingredients—and endured even more hours of lecture after lecture. She'd also insisted plenty that I return to doing drama or do something less... "dangerous."

My mom was doing her best to raise Sota and me because my dad lived in another city and had his own life to take care of. Deep down I understood how hard it was on her. But she was like me—the type to bury any hardship behind a smile. Even when her and Dad decided to get a divorce, she kept reassuring me that everything would be all right—that nothing between us would change.

Of course, with my mom being the only source of income, I should've anticipated an issue like this to spring up in my life. My fancy for baking had finally left her no choice.

But this couldn't happen today. I'd already decided to try and make chocolate covered strawberries in order to apologize to Hayate for making him faint yesterday.

After his collapse, I'd panicked for the life in me and dashed outside the greenhouse for some help. Fortunately, a couple of guys who were loitering around the vicinity consented to carry Hayate to the infirmary. And once we arrived and he was settled in bed—the nurse pampering him in excess worry—I didn't receive the opportunity to stick around for him to wake up because the bell rang, signalling the start of class. I dragged my despondent butt to my classroom at that and hadn't seen the guy since.

Let alone ask him to join my club, how could I ever talk to him with all this guilt weighing on my conscience? There was no way he'd give me the chance to apologize. Not that I'd blame him. Koyuki consistently warned me about how bad Hayate's anxiety was and yet I still rudely barged into his personal space and hurt him, all because I was an idiot incapable of keeping my excitement under wraps.

But it was because I was an idiot who didn't know how to apologize that I decided to resort to the thing that always put a smile on my face—sweets.

Since the incident yesterday, I kept racking my head long and hard about what I could bake to earn his forgiveness. Even if I wasn't great at it, I put my entire heart into my baking. That was why I was sure if he ate my dessert he'd understand my feelings and forgive me. At least, I hoped so.

I knew it was stupid to get my hopes up. But... I guess I kind of wanted to get to know him better. Koyuki said he made the costumes we used in the film. Thinking about how spectacular of a person he must be then excited me. If I could have someone like that bake alongside me, it'd be extremely fun. Plus, he was super cute. He kind of reminded me of a bunny, the way he hopped around avoiding people.

A heavy sigh pooled from my mouth as I shut the front door and reentered the apartment. I embarked toward my bedroom.

Well, as much as I wanted to make him something, I couldn't use my kitchen until I got a job. I needed to find an alternative before Monday, and quick.

When an idea came to mind, I flopped onto my bed and scooped up my cell. The sun had started filtering in through the slots of my curtain, consuming my disorderly bedroom in a bright light that warmed my skin beneath my pyjamas. Hugging my knees to my chest, I typed out the message.

You home?

Her response was instantaneous.

At work.
I was supposed to be off today but Hajime's mom called me in for an extra shift because someone made a super big request.
Could be a celebrity now that I think about it. There was a bit of buzz outside.

Was "Hajime" the name of the Mr. Handsome employee? Was that his first name? It had to be because the shop was literally named 'Ozaki Flower Shop', after his parents' surname.

I knitted my eyebrows together.

Miko referred to every other guy by their surname. Let alone his first name, she hadn't even used honorifics...

That kind of made me curious. Just how close were those two?

Right when I was about to interrogate her about it, my phone dinged again.

Anyway, I can't talk right now. I have so much packing and labelling to do.
I'll talk to you soon!

My shoulders slumped, fingers hovering over the keyboard before finally discarding my half-written message. I settled for a simple, Okay, work hard! then shut my cell and tossed it onto my bed.

Well, Miko's kitchen was out of the question. Not that I was sure she'd let me use it, knowing my knack for making coal out of anything.

Should I buy Hayate a dessert then?

I fished my wallet out of my backpack and popped it open.

It was empty. Truthfully, I wasn't too surprised. I splurged too much at that cafe with Miko a couple of days back. And I doubted my mom would willingly give me money right after making it clear she wanted nothing to do with desserts and baking.

Koyuki... could be an option, but I wasn't in the mood to hear an "I told you not to bother Hayate" lecture if I didn't have to.

I didn't have Chiaki's contact information either.

My face fell flat.

How exactly was I supposed to make amends with Hayate then?

I cast a glance at the clock on my nightstand. 11:15 AM. It was still pretty early.

"Also, if you have some free time—which you definitely will—bring in the mail."

My mom's words echoed in my mind. I groaned. Might as well. Thinking blindly like this isn't going to help me. Besides, maybe going on a walk would help me think.

Content with the idea, I headed straight to my bathroom mirror. I tied up my hair into its signature high bun. Then without bothering to do anything special with my face or pyjamas, I secured my cell and house key and headed to the front door. After slipping into my boots and coat, I was gone, sauntering down the hall and boarding the elevator down to the main floor.

I hunched over my family's mailbox, unlocked it, and quickly retrieved the bundle of envelopes inside. My vision travelled leftward, outside the building, only to be awed upon seeing a fresh pile of snow. It must've fallen last night.

Being as easily excitable as I was, I stepped outside to admire it. A cold breeze fanned my face the moment I did. Although the snow had completely coated my surroundings, cherry blossoms buds could still be spotted poking out from the otherwise bare trees. Regardless, the sky remained a murky grey, and the wind understandably nippy.

Gripping my arms to retain warmth, I ambled onto the sidewalk, relishing in the scenery until I caught sight of a rather fancy delivery bike parked nearby. Startled, I eyed it over, and the little Setoguchi Antiques sticker sprawled across the basket and handlebars.

The name allowed my eyebrows to knit together. Wait... wasn't that...

"Oh, Teru."

I swivelled around only to gape at the individual standing there.

"Chiaki?"