"It's not that difficult, me. The answer's transparent. Okito was messing with me because I selfishly terminated our friendship. And Chiaki... I'd kiss myself too if I was in his shoes. I'm attractive as hell. Yeah. Miko was jumping to conclusions."

"Koto is talking to herself again."

The door to my bedroom creaked. Sota poked his head inside, looking nothing short of horrified.

"What happened, dear?" Mom strolled inside. Even in the middle of August, she was dressed for work. Plopping onto the edge of my bed, she tenderly rested her hand on my lap. "You've been acting..."

"—crazy!" Sota cried.

Mom cast a chastising glare. "—since you returned last week. Care to divulge why?"

"Mother, I'm too irresistible."

She ascended to her feet. "I worried for no reason."

"No, but for real. Your genes are a crime, Mom. You're so pretty."

"Ge...ne?" Sota echoed, tilting his head.

"As fond as I am of being sweet-talked by my daughter, I have to go." She patted my shoulder. "Making enough for the bills this month is my priority, not appearances."

Her concealer hardly camouflaged the dark circles beneath her eyes. She'd been working overtime recently. Well, since the divorce, she had meagre time to spare at home between taking shifts.

"Gotta get you to Nao's house, Sota," she added, motioning him off. "She's agreed to babysit for the afternoon."

"Auntie's house? Yay! She promised to watch Justice Ninjas with me!"

He sprinted outside, beaming wide.

"Dad got remarried."

Mom screeched to a standstill before she could pursue him. I tugged my knees to my chest.

"He has a kid, too. A girl."

Her gaze flitted to the ground. "You spoke with him?"

"At the beach."

"I see. He's back in the city."

I nibbled my lower lip.

"He could have said something at least." I compressed my grip. "I... have so many things I want to tell him. Sota, too. He's grown so much. Doesn't he want to see him?"

Mom caressed my back, now seated in front of me.

"Instead, he has the gall to call out to me with that dumb grin on his face. Practically boasting that he's moved on to better things. Is that all we are to him? Baggage he's left behind?"

It was cruel, mentioning this, when I knew Mom suffered far more than I did. Dad was never as committed to her as she was to him. Leaving for weeks at a time without explanation, having affairs; the victim-blaming. When I was younger, the two buried the ugly the best they could. Put on facades, interacting as the happy family we were required to be. I never caught on for years. By the time I did, Sota had been born, and they were filing divorce papers. In my ignorance, we spent plentiful lighthearted days together. My extensive sweet tooth—all my virtues and vices—I inherited from him. He frequently baked me treats, took me to all-you-can-eat dessert buffets. We were identical in countless ways. Naturally, back then, he attended my recitals as my number one supporter. I kept doing recitals long after I stopped enjoying it because I treasured those memories.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she whispered. "I know how close you were. I'm not telling you to let him go completely, but... this isn't where he belongs anymore. My presence alone may not compare, but it's all I can give you guys right now."

"It's more than enough," I replied. "I love you the most in the entire universe, Mom."

"Of course you do."

On second thought, maybe I inherited more from her.

"I haven't been the best lately; prioritizing my job and not spending as much time with you or supporting you as vigorously as I should." Her jaw clenched. "Honestly, I don't want you to bake. I've wished and wished you'd give it up so you wouldn't waste all the money I've poured into your recitals and lessons over the years. But, mainly, I can't support you because you remind of him."

"Is that why you banned me from baking in the house?"

"I banned you because you were threatening to burn it down every day."

Oh, right.

"I'm a lot better now," I defended. "Koyuki has nothing but compliments to give me recently. The coconut cream pie I made for him last week caused him to crack a smile."

"That grumpy, sourpuss Koyuki? Same one who works you to the bone, critiquing your efforts, smiling?"

"Sadly, it's rare. I've been keeping track of the things that melt his rough exterior and I'm up to five surefire things. If only it was as easy as making him blush."

Mom tittered. "Don't bother the poor boy too much. You don't want to scare him off."

"I won't. He's my pastry chef soulmate for a reason. If he couldn't handle me, I wouldn't have made him my Vice President."

"As your mother, I 'oughta greet him when I can, then. The rest of your club members, too." She rose from my bed a second time. "Make up with Okito soon. He deeply cares for you. I'd argue a lot more than the rest."

I darted my attention to my polka-dotted bedsheets.

She laughed on her way out.

Did Mom know this entire time? Was I the oblivious one in this situation?

Nevertheless, I couldn't bring myself to confirm his feelings.

The guilt gnawed at me.

This entire year, while I've badmouthed him, forced my notions onto him, convinced myself that he'd come to hate me... This whole time, I was poorly mistaken. It didn't change the fact that I had to usurp the Cooking Club in this competition. That I wanted him to admit my desserts were delicious; prove to him I wasn't making a mistake.

The next round was in two weeks. And right now, what I needed most was...

"Practice!"

Koyuki, who'd exited his household, staggered into the front door, clinging to it for dear life. With bug-eyes, he gaped. "T-Teruhashi? Wh-what're— what're you doing here?"

Posted at the entrance of his gate, I gave it to him straight: "I need practice. Keep me company."

My response didn't provide a succinct explanation. However, it did ground him enough to peel himself off the door. He expelled a winded breath. "You... You're so random. Who gave you my address?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. I didn't expect to get a heart attack the moment I left my house." He clutched his chest for emphasis. "I need a warning. Especially if I'm going to see you."

Should I take offence to that? Then again, it must've been a compliment. I was too dazzling for the naked eye.

I scanned his attire. It wasn't a sloppy outfit you'd throw on to grab the mail. Rather... "Were you going out?"

His key jangled as he locked the door behind him. He stowed it away and refaced me. "I was."

"Aww. How can I sharpen my skills without my mentor?"

Pouting, I spun to go.

"I'll take the hint that I'm not wanted here. See you another day—"

"You can come, if you want."

Koyuki hopped down his porch and arrived at my side. Hands stowed in his pockets, he caught my gaze.

"Come with me," he said, this time in earnest. "I've been meaning to introduce you, anyway."

It took a while to come to my senses. Longer than that to scramble after him, his pace leisure enough for me to catch up. The grimness of his countenance stifled further conversation between us.

We didn't have to talk.

Part of me understood where exactly we were going.