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Timers dinged one after another inside Eden Academy’s spacious kitchen, signaling an end to a long and anticipatory wait. Excited chatter filled the air as students donned oven mitts and carefully retrieved their creations from the ovens.
While the majority of the academy’s students had world-renowned chefs to make them anything they could ever crave, there was no denying the sense of accomplishment that came from creating something with their own hands. And after surviving a grueling week of Eden Academy’s infamously difficult exams, who wouldn’t want to indulge in something sweet to lift their spirits?
Loid stood at his work station, wiping down the counter as his own dessert cooled on a wire rack. The mess was minimal. He was no longer the clumsy boy who had been the habitual source of kitchen disasters.
A small smile played on his lips as he recalled one such incident. Eager to help his mother bake cookies—because the sooner they baked, the sooner he could eat them—Loid had hugged a heavy bag of flour to his chest as he made his way across the kitchen. Focused as he was on the weight in his arms, his shoe had caught on a loose tile and sent him plummeting forward, an explosion of white clouding the air.
Getting to his knees, Loid had glanced up and blinked at the sight of his own reflection in the glass cabinet door. Somehow, the tip of his nose had been the only part spared from the white dusting, although not for long. Rather than scold him, his mother had swiped a finger through the pile of flour and smeared it across his nose, coating the last patch of clean skin before bursting into laughter at his indignant squawk.
It had become a tradition that she upheld to this day, despite Loid’s insistence that he was too old for it. Truly, they were half-hearted protests at best.
Now, as he gently wrapped up his cobbler, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, he imagined how his mother’s face might brighten when he brought the dessert home. Although simple in appearance, the enticing aroma and golden-brown edges assured him she would love it. He was just about to place the small box into his bag when a sudden crash jolted him back to the present.
Loid turned toward the back, spotting two of his classmates at the source of the commotion. Yor stood frozen beside her table, shards of ceramic and a ruined cake scattered at her feet. The girl nearest to her held a hand up to her mouth, brows raised in exaggerated surprise.
“Oops. You should really watch where you’re going, Yor,” she said lightly, then turned to join her friends. Their poorly concealed snickers echoed in the otherwise silent classroom.
Once the tension had passed, conversations resumed as the other students returned to tasting and admiring their desserts. Yor crouched quietly, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to pick up the pieces of her shattered plate without drawing more attention.
Loid walked over, cobbler still in hand. “Hey... That was really unfair. Are you okay?”
Yor looked up, startled, before hanging her head again. “I-I’m fine. It was just an accident,” she murmured, although the waver in her voice implied otherwise.
Loid hesitated, but didn’t contradict her. Instead, he knelt beside her, offering the small box with a ribbon tied neatly around it. “Here. Take this.”
Brows furrowed, she glanced between him and the dessert. “But… didn’t you want to take it home?”
“I was thinking about it, but you deserve something sweet too.”
Yor gently pushed it back toward him. “That’s not fair to you. You put in the work to make it.”
“I insist,” he said firmly, offering her a small, encouraging smile.
She opened her mouth in protest, but no words came. Her gaze lowered, a crease forming in her brow. Finally, her expression softened as she looked back up, shining with gratitude. “Then let’s share it.”
They sat at the edge of the counter, two forks and one sweet treat between them. Her eyes lit up with delight at the first bite.
“This is delicious!” she exclaimed, followed by a soft sigh. “I love apples.”
Her reaction caught him off guard. His fork hovered midair, his mouth hanging open slightly.
Loid was used to his mom enjoying his baking, but seeing Yor’s eyes light up like that felt entirely different. It made the effort worth it in a way he hadn’t expected. Suddenly, the simple act of bringing his fork to his mouth took all his focus, especially when he could feel heat crawling up the back of his neck all the way to the tips of his ears.
“I-I’m glad you like it,” he mumbled, unsure why the room was suddenly so warm. Had someone forgotten to turn off their oven?
Averting his gaze, he finally took a bite. Apple and cinnamon burst across his tongue, the crumble melting into sweet warmth. Eyes widening, a satisfied hum escaped his lips.
Sharing a grin with Yor, he thought to himself: he would have to bake with apples more often.