The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the manor, warm and inviting. The kitchen, usually Ari’s sanctuary for quiet moments, was anything but calm today.

“Finoria, you’re burning it!” Yuri shouted, waving her hands toward the pan that now had a suspicious cloud of smoke rising from it.

“I am not!” Finoria shot back, her golden hair tied in a loose braid to keep it out of the chaos. She flipped the pan dramatically, only for a charred piece of meat to slide out and hit the counter with a dull thud. “...Okay, maybe I slightlyburned it.”

“‘Slightly?’” Yuri’s voice cracked, her green eyes wide. “It’s unrecognizable!”

“Cooking is an art,” Finoria said smoothly, unfazed, as she grabbed a knife to chop vegetables with overly confident swipes.

“Not when you’re holding the brush,” Yuri muttered, stepping back as though the entire situation might explode at any moment.

From the other side of the kitchen, Kimi hummed softly, a serene smile on her face as she delicately whisked a bowl of batter. Unlike the chaos around her, she worked with precision and grace, the picture of calm focus.

“You know,” Kimi said sweetly, her violet eyes flicking toward the other two, “if you weren’t so impatient, this wouldn’t happen.”

Finoria shot her a grin. “And if you weren’t so smug, I might ask for tips.”

Kimi’s smile didn’t waver. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Amid the growing noise, Ari leaned quietly against the doorway, watching the scene unfold with his arms crossed. He had been dragged into this madness under the pretense of “It’ll be fun, Ari!”—Finoria’s words, of course—but so far, all he’d done was rescue utensils that had been knocked off the counter and smother a few rogue flames.

He cleared his throat, finally stepping forward. “What’s the goal here?”

Yuri turned to him with an exasperated look, a wooden spoon in her hand like a weapon. “We’re cooking, Ari. Obviously.”

“That much is clear,” Ari replied, his gaze flicking to the smoking pan, Kimi’s perfect batter, and Finoria’s... aggressive chopping. “But why?”

Finoria turned toward him, propping her elbow against the counter with a mischievous smirk. “Because you always cook for us, and we thought it’d be nice to return the favor. A little role reversal.”

Ari raised an eyebrow. “This feels less like ‘returning the favor’ and more like a coordinated attack on my kitchen.”

“It’s called teamwork,” Kimi said smoothly, pouring the batter into a tray with practiced precision. “We each have our roles.”

“Right. You’re the one actually cooking,” Ari pointed out.

Kimi gave him an innocent smile. “Well, someone has to.”

“I can cook!” Yuri protested, crossing her arms.

“You mean like when you burned the stew last month?” Finoria teased, tossing a vegetable into her mouth with a smug grin.

“That wasn’t my fault!” Yuri shot back, her face turning red. “You distracted me!”

“I was just complimenting your knife skills. Don’t be so sensitive.”

Ari sighed, rubbing his temple. “You’re going to destroy the kitchen before you make anything edible.”

“We’ll prove you wrong,” Finoria declared confidently, grabbing a ladle and pointing it at him. “Just you wait, Ari. You’re going to sit down, and we’ll serve you the best meal you’ve ever had.”

“That’s a bold claim,” Ari said, but he knew better than to argue. “Fine. I’ll sit back and watch.”

For a while, Ari let them be, stepping aside and observing as the chaos reached new heights. Yuri accidentally knocked over a jar of salt, Finoria “improvised” with ingredients Ari knew didn’t belong together, and Kimi calmly worked in the corner, her movements precise and unbothered.

It wasn’t until Finoria reached for the pepper grinder that Ari finally stepped in again.

“You’re adding pepper to the cake batter?”

Finoria paused mid-twist, blinking at him. “...Yes?”

Ari stared at her for a long moment before finally shaking his head. “Move over.”

“What?” Finoria pouted, though there was a glint of triumph in her eyes. “You said you’d let us handle it.”

“‘Handle’ is a strong word,” Ari replied, rolling up his sleeves. “Now move.”

For the next hour, the kitchen calmed under Ari’s quiet direction. He seamlessly took control, fixing what could be fixed and gently guiding where necessary. Yuri and Finoria tried to grumble about it but didn’t resist—Finoria even stuck closer to Ari than usual, occasionally “accidentally” bumping her shoulder against his arm as they worked.

“You know,” she murmured, grinning as she leaned slightly against him, “we did this on purpose. You look good when you’re focused.”

Ari shot her a look but didn’t respond, finishing the dish in front of him with practiced ease.

By the end, the chaos had transformed into something resembling a proper meal. A mix of hearty stew, fresh bread, and a cake (which Kimi had guarded fiercely to keep Finoria from sabotaging it) sat neatly on the table.

“See?” Yuri said, puffing up proudly as they all sat down. “It turned out fine.”

“Because Ari saved us,” Kimi added with a serene smile.

Finoria grinned, propping her chin in her hand as she looked at Ari. “I think we deserve a little credit. We did bring you into the kitchen, after all.”

Ari sighed, shaking his head as he picked up his fork. “I’m not sure if I should thank you or ban you all from the kitchen forever.”

Yuri groaned. “You’re so dramatic.”

Kimi giggled softly. “You’re welcome, Ari.”

As the group dug into the meal, their voices filled the dining room—playful banter, laughter, and the occasional teasing remark.