"You're starting with the basics."

A pile of books and documents hit the table hard. I jolted, gazing up at Koyuki's face. He took a seat on the opposite side of the table. I returned my focus to what he'd laid out before me.

Basics of Baking, Baking as a Science, How to Follow a Recipe, Tools You'll Need for Baking Success...

Was he serious?

I had thought it to be odd when he invited me after class only to lead me into the cooking lab and let me take a seat before the whiteboard. But who'd have thought this would be what he'd be dropping on me.

"Are you mad at me?"

Koyuki shook his head. "Why would I be?"

Although something in my gut told me otherwise, I wanted to believe from his less grouchy than usual frown that I could trust that.

I patted the first hardcover book. It didn't have our school's library code branding it. The others didn't either.

Wait, were these his?

"Why all the books then?" I finally asked. "Didn't you bring me here to bake?"

"The basics for you means starting from scratch."

My eyebrows furrowed together. He sighed.

"Clearly, having you learn from physically baking isn't helping you develop any skills, nor is it helping to lessen the amount of burnt food and smoke that fills this kitchen. I figured having you actually sit down and study the fundamentals will make it easier and faster for you to improve."

I digested his words, the gears in my mind working to process it. I picked up the first book from the pile, keeping a steady eye on him. "You want me to read these?"

"And understand them. I get you want to jump into baking, and I admit, it was somewhat wrong of me to let you do that, even though we didn't have much time for both the cookies and the birthday cake. But before you can start baking, you need to understand what you're doing. The concepts, the techniques; you can't just mix eggs, sugar and flour together and hope for some great creation. Baking is more of a science and you need to treat it that way."

I wanted to refute to a few things mentioned, but honestly, his words made sense. I did leap straight into baking. Sure, it led to ten months of constant failure, not to mention our involvement in both the chocolate chip cookie and birthday cake fiasco. But, if we were to do this right, and I wanted to improve, I needed to study baking as a science. I couldn't just look at the end product and try to emulate that without first getting the basics down.

Koyuki made that pretty clear when we were working on that cake as a group. He never left me to do any complicated or important work. Because if I had tried, I'd have ruined the cake.

Upon flipping the book open, my lips met in a purse. It consisted of pure blocks of text; not a single illustration to be seen.

I shut my eyes, attempting to suppress an oncoming headache. Then, stared at him with large doe-eyes, fluttering my lashes for emphasis.

Koyuki merely leaned over so that I was staring him square in the face. Per usual, his composure hadn't wavered despite my cutesy appeal.

"You're reading them all, no argument."

I sweatdropped, dipping my head in defeat. "Fine."

I plugged my eyes to the first word. I followed it along, but the language was excessively flowery. By the fifth sentence, I was already drawing blanks and question marks. Pausing, I peered up at him.

"Can these books come with demonstrations?"

"No."

I bitterly returned to reading. Or really, blankly scanning the pages. It was needlessly descriptive. Then again, maybe the reason this was so difficult to process was because I was stupid. But in my defence, if this was a book about baking, it should at least come with illustrations of beautiful desserts. Where were the desserts, then? Mentioning creme brûlée and not showing a single picture of it was so disrespectful!

Oh no. Just imagining the rest of these books being as dry as this one...

"First things first, you need to understand your ingredients."

My head jerked excitedly. Koyuki bent over my shoulder to check what I was reading before nodding and picking up one of the board markers. Maybe because it'd been a while since we had a session like this I'd forgotten how serious Koyuki was. When given a leadership role, he made sure to take advantage of it. And despite knowing how hopeless I was going to be—how slow and taxing this process foretold—he'd already thought ten steps ahead to speed things up.

The spiel Koyuki had gone on was long and draining, and whenever I'd come close to zoning out he'd made sure to wake me up with a thwack to the head. Considering his familiarity with the content he'd given me, it was easy for him to direct me to important sections.

Sure baked products consisted of familiar ingredients (sugar, flour, eggs, water), but depending on how chefs used them could make them into cakes, donuts, pies. It all depended on the ratios used; the interactions of the ingredients. And even a minuscule mistake in these interactions could cause a mistake in its entirety.

Simply because a recipe said to cook for twelve minutes under three hundred and seventy-five degrees didn't make that the standard for all ovens. Your mind needed to constantly be working; adjusting.

It'd all seemed like common sense, but with my experience of constant failure, it was extremely enlightening. I followed recipes to the key, including bake time. Never did a part of me really consider if it was reasonable; if any or all the ingredients I gathered would make a significant difference in the outcome. Maybe the reason behind my subsequent failures stemmed from my lack of this so-called "caution"?

"I'm only saying this because I know you're an idiot."

"Excuse you?"

Koyuki retreated from beside me. "Fine. A dimwit."

"Now you just want to get smacked."

He brushed back his tousled bangs. "Look. Me being serious about this means I expect you to be serious too. If you really want to improve, you can't rely on our sessions alone. Unless you're using every ounce of your free time to put them into practice, these hours will be for nothing. Frankly, you have a lot you need to learn to reach the level of an average baker but if you want to upstage the Cooking Club, you're going to have to surpass that. There's no time for you to fool around by bringing that Gouda guy your failed desserts when you know he won't accept them."

My shoulders squared, and I kept my head downcast. His words were truly a knife to the chest. "Those are..."

Without even waiting for my rebuttal, Koyuki picked up his belongings. He wordlessly stacked the strewn books into a neat pile for me to collect. I got up to help him.

When a notification sounded, he dug into his pocket. One look at his cellphone caused a swear to leave his mouth. I perked, clearly not expecting it, but observing him grin wider than I'd ever seen him and grasp his bangs as if in shock only caused my curiosity to spark.

"What?"

Without giving me the chance to wait for a response, he gripped my shoulders. Still beaming, he breathlessly said, "Our short film made it to the final selection list. It's been nominated for Best Original Screenplay."

My eyelids peeled apart. Koyuki let go of me in a swirl and shot his arms into the air. It was as if he was hit with so much joy he didn't know what to do with it. Watching this unnatural phenomenon made me speechless as well.

"That film we did?"

He repeatedly nodded.

"Yep! Sumio just messaged me. It's being considered." He shoved his phone into my face so I could see the exact message. "Look at the picture, woman. Look at it!"

"I'm looking!" I just about jumped. "Oh my gosh. I can't believe this! Congrats!"

Still airily laughing, Koyuki withdrew his phone. "I have to tell Chiaki and Hayate."

I was already scrambling for mine to message Miko. "Is it fine that you haven't shown up there in a while? Aren't you the president?"

"Oh, yeah. That's fine." He tucked his phone into his back pocket after sending some texts, still grinning. "We usually only get together towards the end of the year to put together a film to submit, which we did. But it's never made the finalists list before."

"Have you ever directed one?"

"No. When I joined last year I was just a supporting cast member."

"Then clearly this club has been sleeping on your directing talent for a year! Imagine all the awards they could've won if you'd taken centre stage earlier."

I lowered my cell along with a laugh but was definitely not expecting to be throttled into a sudden bear hug.

"I can't believe how close this was to never happening." He buried his face into my shoulder and even lifted me off the ground to swing me. His grip tightened. "It's all thanks to you and your stubbornness that it all worked out."

His sudden display of affection was definitely heartwarming, but being squeezed like a teddy bear could only take a while before embarrassment swelled my cheeks with warmth. "Koyuki."

"Whenever I go back to rewatch it, I still can't believe how good your acting was. You really were a different person. Like really amazing."

"I get it," I muffled into his chest, snagging at his collar. "Let me breathe, boy. You're so uncharacter-like it's scaring me"

Laughing, Koyuki released me, allowing oxygen to refill my lungs. He inched away, unable to stop his emanating happiness.

"Sorry," he said, still scrambling for words. "Just... this means a lot to me. You see, my brother—"

His words halted abruptly.

The room fell silent enough to hear a pin drop. Similarly, all the positivity radiating off of him disappeared to none.

I wanted to shrug aside the ominousness of the sudden situation but it only left me bewildered. He hadn't said anything strange, had he?

"Your brother?" I tentatively echoed.

But clearly, that wasn't the right response. Koyuki's mouth moved wordlessly for a while before downturning heavily.

"Forget it," he said. "Am I even making sense anymore? I'll go."

"Whether I smiled or not doesn't matter. I... don't bake anymore. I stopped being interested in it a long time ago."

The memory was like a punch to the gut.

"He's having fun. Rather, he doesn't have fun unless he's in the kitchen baking. Even if it is for your dream... I'm thankful you called out to him. Ko's passion is baking—not staying cooped behind a camera directing films. And at this rate... he may finally be able to accept that."

Today's session wasn't something he could spawn from nowhere. These books—his belongings—he could recommend them because he had experience with them. At one point in time, he was passionate about baking and being a pastry chef, more than I could ever dream of comprehending. But now he wasn't interested? He'd framed his focus to filming—directing alone?

I didn't buy it. Then what could have happened to make someone so passionate about this stuff give it up like it were nothing?

Upon my silence, Koyuki rotated his head my way, eyebrow cocked as he shrugged on his coat. His bangs had ended up brushing the bridge of his nose again, shielding his dark eyes. The clouds shielded the sun outside, casting shadows through the window and over the majority of his face.

I was probably mistaken. Misheard him and Chiaki, even. I mean, he was helping me so willingly. He'd even brought me here today to give me these books, ultimately bringing me closer to my aspiration.

Even if he did only accept this situation because of our exchange, he had to have changed his mind by now.

My muddled thoughts left me feeling exasperated.

Maybe... I should ask just in case.

"Koyuki."

"Hmm?"

"You... still want to become a pastry chef, right?"

His response was immediate. "No. I told you I gave that up, remember?"

I teetered from shock. Then, gripped his sleeve. "But you're helping me so willingly! We've been baking together for the last two months, having so much fun! Didn't you find your love for it again?"

Although slight, the corners of his mouth dipped further. "We made a deal."

"But." My voice was starting to crack. "You're so knowledgeable! It'd be a shame to waste it!"

"As long as I teach you everything I know, that wouldn't be 'wasting' it, right?"

He nudged his arm for freedom and stepped forward. I acted fast, seizing the back fabric of his coat and keeping him in place.

It couldn't be. The only reason he was sticking with my stubbornness and this whole setup was because of simple obligation? I couldn't buy that. No, I didn't want to.

Expelling another breath, he spared me a side glance. "Can you stop grabbing me—"

"It's not fair."

Koyuki's voice caught in his throat. He returned his gaze straight ahead, but my hold on him didn't loosen. It tightened, if anything.

"You're so talented at it," I continued. "I can't accept you dreaming about doing anything other than baking."

"Hypocrite."

My chin jerked up.

"Whatever I decide to do with my life isn't your problem. What gives you the right to lecture me, anyway? The only reason you're even adamant about being a pastry chef is because you want to prove something to that Gouda guy."

"That's not—"

"True?" Yanking me off him, he faced me. The sunset streaming in worked to illuminate his contempt. "Then what's the purpose of this club you're trying to form? 'Upstage the Cooking Club', my ass. The only reason you dragged us all into creating it is because you want Gouda—and only him—to recognize you. But what happens after that? Did you even think that far ahead?"

"That..." I couldn't find the words to refute. We'd argued in the past, sure, but I'd never heard him this blunt. I'd touched on a definite nerve. Hard to believe we were celebrating only moments ago. "I already said I want to become a pastry chef..."

"Are you sure about that? You abandoned what you're good at—all those years of drama you enjoyed—simply to gain one person's approval. Once you finally get Gouda to praise one of your desserts, will you really not regret leaving that all behind you?"

It'd felt as if I'd been stabbed by multiple needles, leaving me numb.

"You're stubborn, Teruhashi. That's why you can't realize how shallow your goal is. If you continue to half-heartedly pursue this, you'll regret it."

My fingers balled into fists. "I'm not half-heartedly pursuing this."

"Then, promise right here and now that you won't go running to shove desserts down Gouda's throat. That you never will."

I couldn't breathe.

"This isn't a game. You're talking about your future career. A dream you have absolutely no talent in—one you dragged us all into." He looked elsewhere. "Don't get me wrong. This shallow goal of yours aside, I promised to help you with this club. So until it disbands, I'll go along with your selfish demands and teach you how to bake all you want. It's the least I could do since everything I learned for that old dream of mine is still fresh in my mind. But..."

"Koyuki," I said.

"Don't talk down to me like you have some superior resolve. What do you know about why I quit baking? I know better than anyone that I should be doing it. I want to so badly. But I can't. That's why I'm doing film now."

Tears stung the corners of my eyes. As if spotting that, he became stricken.

"I've... gotta go. Make sure you review everything we discussed today."

He left the room at that. I watched as he disappeared around the corner without stopping to look back. My heart heavy in my chest. I bit my lower lip, hard.

Why was it that every single time he said stuff like that, there was always that undertone of sadness carrying his words?

If he really didn't regret leaving it behind... If his eyes were solely on filming and directing now... Then why did he always have to frown so sadly when saying so?

Was the reason he gave it up in the first place still eating at him to this day? But what exactly was that reason?

Why did... Koyuki quit baking?

***

Things got a little dark, huh? But it is quit the mystery. Why is Koyuki so adamant to keep baking behind him? Any guesses?

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