“Happy birthday, Takashi.”

— MIYAZAKI HIKARU

Miyazaki Hikaru, charismatic and flawless as she may be...

“Ugh.”Staring at the blackened disaster sitting atop the counter, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “What abomination is this...?”

Cannot compete in the matter of the kitchen.

“Miss, if I may,” Sato interjected, adjusting his glasses while maintaining the same benign smile he always wore. “If this continues any further, I am afraid the emergency services may soon dispatch firefighters to these premises.”

Hikaru scowled. A single glance toward the misshapen lump of dough — burnt beyond recognition — was enough to convince her that such an outcome was entirely possible. For all she knew, nobody would ever guess that the charred object on the counter had once been intended as food.

Let alone a cake.

"How about the pâtissie—"

"Don't want to! I want to make it myself!!"

The tantrum earned a faint twitch at the corner of Sato's smile. Admirably, he maintained his professionalism despite everything. “I see,” he mused, peering over her shoulder at the latest casualty. “Though I fear you may simply be converting expensive ingredients into smoke at this point.”