"Team Baking Society leads the series 2–1. Will this round decide it all? Or will Team Elite, our reigning champs, make a comeback?" Mr. Oto cooed. "Before we welcome Saint and Kohmi Hiroka to the stage, let's break for twenty minutes!"

Majority of those in the bleachers gratefully accepted the offer and piled out of the room. Competitors did as well. Nori excused himself to check on the others in the boys washroom. I nodded and gave him a message to pass on to Hayate for me. As I waited for them to return, I leaned against the adjacent wall, arms behind my back.

"Will you tell me?"

I wasn't expecting him. Yet, here he was, reclined against the wall beside me. He was alone—the other Cooking Club members presumably dawdling outside of the venue to make the most of this break.

"In the school hallway," he continued, "you were going to say something before Fukui interrupted."

Leave it to him dwell on my tiniest slip-ups. "I told you it was nothing."

"Even then, I want to hear it."

I flitted my attention to the tiled floors. "We're in the middle of battle and you're focusing on dumb things."

"I can't help it. The interactions we have now, albeit little, I treasure them more than you'll ever know."

"Are you regretting it?"

"I've had nothing but regrets since that day. There were so many things I could have said. Done. I wrongly convinced myself you were giving it up because those bullies had finally worn you down. But, you love desserts more than anything. Giving up everything to bake them, even being how horrible you are, wasn't a ridiculous notion at all, looking back. Why did I stupidly tell myself I was doing the right thing, then? If I gave in sooner... if I was there to support you instead of pushing you away..."

"I wouldn't have met the others," I finished. "I doubt I'd have become friends with Miko either."

Up until that day, it'd always been the two of us. Okito was the biggest part of my life. Every joy, sorrow, minor inconvenience or demand, I'd force onto him. And each time, he would begrudgingly appease me. The one time he didn't led to this. He was looking out for me in his own way, but I wanted to prove him wrong no matter what. Though, the closer I tried to get, the more distant we became. The future I imagined back then was a lot different than my current present.

There were bountiful ways we could've solved this childish quarrel between us two hardheads, but there was no use dwelling on what could've been. We were here now.

"I'll tell you if you win." Smiling, I pivoted in his direction. "What I was going to say. What I've wanted you to know for a long time."

Okito's lip quirked up. "You know that's been my plan from the beginning."

I snorted. "I have no intention of losing either. My goal hasn't changed from the start. So if I have to tell you these words I've buried in my heart, it'll be when I've lost once and for all."

"There's a whole lot riding on your loss. But... what happens if you win? You have no requests?" His hand met the wall behind my ear. "For me to give you a proper confession or kiss... Whisper sweet nothings... You can literally ask anything of me."

My skin flamed as I gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. "I..."

A bell rang out. I jolted.

"It's starting." He retreated. Then, as if amused by my obvious blush, smirked. "I'll look forward to those heartfelt words."

"Y-you seem to forget we're one win away from victory!" I said after him. "If Nori prevails—"

"He won't." His tone withheld not a shred of doubt. "It's our showdown that'll decide it all. Their clash is simply putting off the inevitable."

"Saint! You're so hot!"

"Victory for Kohmi! Our benevolent empress!"

Nori was ever the popular figure. The same could be said for Kohmi, whereby rows upon rows of dedicated boys fawned over her with unabashed fervour. The two possessed innumerable differences but their ability to obtain the delicate hearts of their victims was identical.

"Ready to become my servant?"

"There's nothing remotely appealing about that," Nori said, "so I must refuse."

"Don't you ever tire of uttering platitudes when you know you'll never upstage me?"

"Why're you convinced I won't?"

"Because you don't strive for victory. That's why you chose losing to me the last time we went head-to-head." Her gaze burned. "You know what I despise the most, Norihise? When people don't adhere to society's hierarchy. For every occupation or pastime, there exists a class system. And when grimy nobodies stupidly inflate their egos and step out of line, I find no greater pleasure in stomping them back into their place. You're far out of those nobodies' league, yet you keep them company. Why side with those peasants when their loss is assured?"

"You're heavy-handed, Kohmi." For the second time, all Nori offered was a laugh. "No need for all the hostility. We are cousins, aren't we?"

"COUSINS?!"

The entire hall, who'd been listening to their exchange, were shaken to their core. The sheer bombshell that'd been dropped was far from the scope of comprehension.

"On our mothers' side," Kohmi spat, as if perturbed by our unanimous gawping. "I never liked you, Norihise. Why would you choose this moment to mention that?"

"I can't?"

She popped a vein at his nonchalance. "No."

On the surface, it was certainly astonishing. However, now that I considered it, the resemblance was uncanny. Their red hair and golden eyes should've been a dead giveaway alongside how effortlessly they infatuated the opposite gender. Second Serving—Kohmi's family business—also served primarily traditional Japanese sweets, which was what Nori excelled in.

"I knew I disliked her for a reason." Koyuki's expression contorted in disgust. "They have the same blood."

"As shocking as it is that you must face a relative," Mr. Oto interjected. "Can we have you begin baking, Mr. Saint and Miss Hiroka? I'm afraid we're wasting time."

"Give the signal," Kohmi responded offhandedly. "He won't take it seriously, anyway. Not that waste of oxygen."

The bell resounded and the clock started its countdown. Kohmi launched into work straightaway. Nori chuckled under his breath.

"It isn't as if you particularly bake or cook out of enjoyment either."

"Obviously not," she said, mixing rice flour, tofu and sugar she'd poured into a large bowl. "I do it because I'm talented. What other reason must I require? To kill time?"

"Many do it to kill time," he rationalized. "But I..."

Kohmi's numerous fanboys cried out, drowning out whatever Nori was going to say. Fans of 'Saint' followed suit, to which Nori gratuitously smiled and winked in return for their kind gestures.

"He's busy flirting when he should be getting a move on," Chiaki sighed.

"Hise is way too l-lighthearted," Hayate murmured. His segment had scarred him adequately, which explained why he'd regressed to his previous habit of cowering behind walls. Half of his face alone was visible. "He—he makes it look so easy."

"It is easy to him," I replied. "He's more of a performer wowing a crowd than a chef. Maybe he gets this fondness for affection from his celebrity parents?"

"Angel!" Nori called out to me, waving. "Keep a close eye on me, all right? Your dashing prince!"

Koyuki, who popped a nerve, bolted from his chair. "Get to work already!"

Nori confronted his malice with a broad grin. "Somebody's grumpy... Shall I bake extra dessert on your behalf as well?"

"You're baking for the judges, damn perv! We don't need your dessert!"

I tugged a fuming Koyuki's sleeve. "Speak for yourself. I'll eat your share if you're disinterested. Give it right to me."

He bestowed me the darkest look in his possession.

I leaped into the nearest arms I could. "I-I made Koyuki angry...!"

Chiaki consolingly caressed the back of my head as I feigned sniffles. "There, there. That jerk has too short of a temper."

"I was kindly offering."

"I know."

"Teruhashi, Chiaki, stop fooling around," Koyuki pleaded. "It's 'cause you keep egging on that perv, he keeps at it!"

"Nori is the Baking Society's poster boy and trump card," I replied. "Have more faith in him."

"He's a lost cause that's what he is."

"Koyuki, was that a yes?" Nori shouted over. "A no?"

"Do what you want!" He collapsed into his chair, arms folded, eyebrow twitching. "He makes zero sense. Doting on us by constantly making sure we're fed. Focus on the damn competition."

I tittered.

Nori was always considerate like that. He brought food along or cooked for us whenever we had meetings or met up to practice. He did that for the first round and throughout our stay at the seaside as well.

It was why I didn't have doubts. I'd argue it was the complete opposite, even.

Nori exhaled and ventured for his ingredients after a quick hand-wash. His shift of demeanour was subtle, but upon returning, like a flip had switched, he got straight to work. Kohmi, who'd been baking meticulously on her end, stood no equal to his agility. The two toiled away in silence, nothing but the fans' chants serving as background noise.

Kohmi completed her confection first. The hanami dango was by no virtue novel aside from its unique design, however the taste of strawberries and subtle matcha, and tender chewiness transferred the judges to cloud nine in joy. Mr. Paul wasn't familiar with traditional sweets much, but even he had boundless compliments to provide.

Her fans went wild when she scored a perfect score. Tossing a glance at Nori who ambled forward with his dessert in hand, she scoffed.

"There's no way you're serious."

"Oh. Would you have liked one as well?"

"No!"

Laughing, he lowered his plates before the judges. He offered one to Mr. Oto as well, who gladly received it. The crowd was far from impressed by the ordinary treat. Smooth, custard pudding and sweet caramel sauce.

"This—" the first judge gaped. "My offhanded comment from an earlier dessert..."

Nori smiled, removed his toque and bowed. "All I hope is that it is to your liking."

Without further ado, they dug into the caramel custard pudding. One by one, their smiles shone through.

"If my fond, childhood memories could be summed into a dessert, this would be it," the same man chuckled, his grin the widest. "I'd beg my mother to make me this all the time as a child. Her efforts were nothing remotely extraordinary, but even now, it carries that sense of 'home' to me."

"You're Norihise Yamashiro, are you not? Knowing your talents, and feats, you could have presented a grander dessert." The second judge spared Nori a pointed look. "Why choose this, then, knowing far well it won't make you win?"

"He doesn't strive for victory, remember?" Kohmi shrugged. "I'm telling you, the only thing driving that droopy-eyed flirt is boredom, and finding ways to kill time."

Koyuki harrumphed, low enough so we could hear. "He blew his round."

"Is that how it appears?" I asked.

It wasn't quite right. Bearing witness to the wide beam peeling back his lips—an expression you wouldn't expect from somebody who purposefully threw in the towel—I was convinced.

"My dearest angel." After Kohmi had been crowned the winner and Nori distributed the extra pudding he'd made to the four of us, he addressed me with a sigh. "I apologize. I couldn't bring back a win after all."

"If you took things more seriously, you could have," Koyuki said between spoonfuls.

"Is it true you don't enjoy the culinary arts, Hise?" Hayate asked.

Chiaki, ever the lover of pudding, had already inhaled his and Hayate's share. "Even though you have this great of a gift?"

He untied his hair from the side ponytail. "If you ask me whether or not I enjoy doing it, I'd have to say no," he said.

If he didn't care, he wouldn't go so such great lengths to cook extravagant meals for his parents who constantly ended up cancelling. He wouldn't grasp mini clues people drop and work to appease them. He wouldn't look the happiest during moments like these—moments others delightfully gobbled down his creations.

No, it wasn't victory or boredom that drove him to enter competitions and cling to it after all these years. It was a fundamental selflessness all chefs possessed.

"There is, however, some fulfillment to be gained through seeing others enjoy what I've made with a smile of their own. It's taken me a long time to notice that I truly am a flirt through and through."

My cheeks stuffed to the brim with his dessert, lips quirked upward in utter bliss, didn't deter him from lifting my chin with his forefinger. His handsome face and candid grin were inches from mine.

"And the smile I want to see the most is yours, Angel. Always."