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The scuttle of tiny feet hitting hardwood floor made Kento smile as he tied an apron behind his back. All the clinking of bowls and equipment were enough to stop his son from playing even the most captivating game.
“Papa, what is that?”
Yuuji stood on his toes, trying to peer over the edge of the counter to see what his dad was doing.
“It’s a Swedish dessert called ‘kladdkaka’,” Kento answered as he aligned the ingredients.
“Can,” jump, “I,” jump, “help?”
Kento watched him struggle for a moment before pointing to a small chair in the corner of the room, bright orange plastic decorated with small tigers.
“Maybe it will be easier for you to help if you use your chair.”
“That’s not my chair!” Yuuji huffed as he crossed his arms and stuck his chest out, “I’m five and big boys don’t need stupid chairs.”
Kento wiped his hands on the apron and crouched down, putting himself in eye-level with Yuuji.
“You are a big boy, yes, but sometimes big boys need help with things.”
Yuuji frowned, skeptical about what his dad was saying.
“Even papa?”
Kento nodded.
“Especially papa. Aunt Shoko and uncle Suguru have to help me with things all the time.”
“And uncle Satoru?”
Kento made a face and quickly stood up, pushing his glasses up in an attempt to cover his mien.
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, right?” he said and turned to Yuuji with a wink.
Yuuji laughed. He knew his dad loved uncle Satoru, but he also knew that most of the money in the swear jar was because of uncle Satoru.
Running to retrieve the chair, Yuuji placed it in front of the counter and hopped on, eyes marveling over the ingredients.
“What’s klambaka?”
“Kladdkaka. Try again.”
”Kaldkaka.”
”Kladd,” Kento articulated carefully.
”Kladd,” Yuuji echoed.
”Kaka.”
”Kaka.”
”Now together.”
”Kladdkaka.”
”Perfect,” Kento smiled.
Yuuji beamed at the praise, making a mental note in his five-year-old mind to brag about his newfound knowledge to Megumi and Nobara.
“It’s a type of chocolate cake from Sweden. Your grandmother taught me how to make it, and she learned it from her dad.”
Yuuji looked confused, his tiny eyebrows furrowed.
“But you’re not Swedish?”
Kento chuckled.
“True. I’m part Danish, but Denmark and Sweden are really close to each other, so sometimes they enjoy each other’s food.”
Yuuji nodded, muttering “yes, of course” under his breath. It was a new habit he had picked up from hearing Kento answer business calls from home, much more preferable than the period he would randomly shout “God damn!” after their neighbor Yaga had looked after him.
“So, what do you want to help me with?”
Yuuji’s eyes shined brightly as he looked at the ingredients.
“Everything.”
“Sure. I’ve already turned the oven on and prepared the baking pan, so would you like to melt the butter?”
Yuuji nodded and his small hands reached for the butter. Kento went to stand behind him, helping Yuuji hold the knife.
“We need 100 grams of butter,” Kento said as he guided Yuuji’s hand to the mark. Yuuji pressed the knife down carefully, the heavy blade sliding down slowly until it hit the cutting board.
“Great job. Now we put it into the saucepan so we can melt it.”
Kento held the saucepan up to Yuuji who plopped the butter into it, grimacing at his buttery fingers.
“Gross.”
“There’s a towel on the counter, you can wipe your hands with it.”
“Okay, now?”
“Now we’ll let the butter melt before adding the other ingredients. Do you want to try doing it yourself?”
Yuuji nodded eagerly as he watched his dad turn on the stovetop, shaking his fists in excitement.
“Do you know which one of these is the teaspoon?”
When Yuuji nodded, Kento pointed to the containers in front of them.
“I want you to put half a teaspoon of salt and a full teaspoon of vanilla powder into the melted butter. It's a bit hot, so I will be the one stirring it.”
“Okay!”
Stepping behind Yuuji, Kento reached for the saucepan, placing it on a towel next to the containers and watching as Yuuji added the ingredients.
“Excellent. Can you take the deciliter cup, the largest one, and add two scoops of sugar and half a scoop of cocoa?”
Yuuji did as he was asked and watched as his dad stirred everything together with a wooden spoon, the ingredients combining into a grainy mixture.
“Now I want you to crack two eggs into the small glass bowl, then add them to the mix.”
With his small hand barely covering a single egg, Yuuji messily cracked them, bits of shell falling into the bowl that Kento helped him fish out. As he poured one egg after the other into the saucepan, Yuuji stared intently, watching the eggs transform the mixture from grainy and separated to velvety and smooth.
“Grab the deciliter cup again and add two scoops of flour.”
Yuuji stuck his tongue out in concentration, pouring the flour in slowly and carefully. Kento patted his head, smoothing the unruly strands of pink hair.
“We don’t have to be careful with this, Yuuji.”
“But I want to be,” he said, reaching for the spoon.
“We want to stir this just until it’s combined, Yuuji.”
“Why?”
“Well, in flour there’s something called gluten, and when you work flour too much, the gluten can get stretchy. When that happens, we get bread instead of cake.”
Yuuji bit his lower lip in concentration as he carefully mixed the ingredients, looking up at his dad from time to time until he received a nod. Kento took the saucepan and poured the mixture into the lined baking pan, giving the spatula to his son.
“How long?” Yuuji asked as he licked the spatula, watching his dad place the pan in the oven.
”Twelve minutes.”
Yuuji smiled, his front teeth covered in chocolate mixture.
”And then two hours in the fridge after it has cooled down,” Kento added while setting the timer, laughing when Yuuji let out a whine.
“But I want it now!”
Grabbing the kitchen towel, Kento crouched down to clean the corners of Yuuji’s mouth.
“Patience is a virtue, Yuuji.”
“What does that even mean?”
While explaining, Kento was interrupted mid-sentence by the door-bell ringing. Yuuji hopped down from his chair and sprinted to the door, always eager to meet whoever was on the other side. Sighing, Kento shouted a half-hearted ‘don’t run’ after him.
Hearing the door open followed by a shrill giggle, Kento already knew who it was before Yuuji announced it as only one person could make him laugh like that. Kento turned to look at his reflection in the window, brushing a hand through his hair and smoothing out his apron before Yuuji entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Yuu Haibara.
“Papa, It’s uncle Yuu! Uncle, we’re making kladdkaka.”
Yuu put his hand up to his heart, feigning shock.
“Kaka? You’re making poo?!”
Yuuji snickered and pointed to the swear jar.
“That’s a naughty word! You have to put money in the jar now.”
Yuu picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder, walking up next to Kento and eyeing the cake through the oven glass.
“I don’t know who made you the boss lil Yuu, but the word ‘poo’ is not naughty.”
Kento chuckled as Yuuji’s finger flew up from behind Yuu’s back, wagging back and forth.
“Yes it is! You used it in a bad convex.”
“Context,” Kento corrected.
“A bad context,” Yuuji repeated, finger still waving in the air.
“Ah, my bad,” Yuu said as he placed Yuuji on the counter, winking at Kento before ruffling Yuuji’s hair.
“Where do you even learn these words, aren’t you like two years old?”
Yuuji stuck his tongue out as he put his palm up, fingers spread wide apart.
“I am five!”
“Ah, my bad. You’re just so tiny sometimes.”
Yuuji flung his leg up and softly kicked his uncle’s thigh, to which Yuu let out an overly dramatic gasp.
“Kento, he broke my leg!”
Both Kento and Yuuji turned to look at each other, Yuuji giggling as he saw his dad roll his eyes.
“I think that kick was justified,” Kento said as he turned to look at Yuu.
Yuuji let out a victory shout as he jumped off the counter. Standing next to his uncle, he puckered his lips and gave Yuu’s leg a quick peck.
“There, you’re healed now.”
Turning to his dad, Yuuji clasped his hands in front of him and straightened his back, looking as proper as ever.
“Papa, can we please watch a movie with uncle Yuu?”
Kento looked at Yuu for confirmation, receiving a thumbs-up in return.
“Okay. Do you want choose?”
Yuuji rushed into the living room before Kento had finished speaking, the sound of the TV coming on mere seconds after Yuuji had disappeared around the corner. Kento sighed and shook his head as he untied his apron, hanging it on the pantry door. Behind him, he felt Yuu press against his back, arms going around his waist in a light embrace. Kento turned his head to look at him, eyebrows raised.
“Really?”
“What?” Yuu smiled, pressing his lips against his cheek. Kento leaned his head back, inhaling the all-too familiar scent of Yuu's coconut shampoo as he intertwined their fingers.
The sudden sound of Yuuji’s voice startled them both. Yuu chuckled when Kento gently slapped his hands away, leaning in to steal a kiss before stepping back.
“I want the armchair," Yuuji yelled, "you have to share the couch!”
“Oh, I think we’ll be alright with sharing the couch,” Yuu shouted back, linking his arm with Kento’s and dragging him along to the living room with a wide grin on his face.