Chapter 10: The Cooking Clash

Saturday morning dawned with a rare reprieve: no school, no Aiko. She'd left early with a friend, leaving Riku to laze around in peace. He sprawled on the couch, flipping through a manga, savoring the quiet. His parents were out shopping, and the house felt like his again—if only for a few hours.

The doorbell shattered his calm. He opened it to find Haruka standing there, a basket in her arms and a grin on her face. "Surprise!" she said, holding up the basket. "I baked cookies to thank you for yesterday. Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure," he said, stepping aside. She bounded in, her energy filling the room like a burst of sunlight. She wore a casual dress—yellow, with a hem that swished as she moved—and her hair was tied back with a ribbon. Riku's shyness kicked in hard; he wasn't used to girls in his house, especially not ones who hugged his arm like it was normal.

"They're chocolate chips," she said, setting the basket on the kitchen counter. "Try one!"

He took a cookie, biting into it cautiously. Warm, gooey, and sweet—not bad. "These are great," he said, and her face lit up.

"Really? Yay! I'm not the best cook, but I tried!" She clasped her hands, then hesitated. "Um… could I make you something else? Since I'm here?"

"Like what?" he asked, mid-bite.

"Dinner!" she said. "You've helped me so much—let me repay you!"

Before he could protest, she was raiding the fridge, pulling out chicken, rice, and veggies with a determination that brooked no argument. Riku hovered, unsure whether to stop her or help. "You don't have to—"

"I want to!" she insisted, tying an apron she'd found under the sink around her waist. "Sit! Relax! I've got this!"

He sat, but relaxing was impossible. Haruka hummed as she chopped vegetables, her knife skills shaky but earnest. She nearly dropped the chicken, giggled at her own clumsiness, and kept going. Riku couldn't help smiling—she was a mess, but her heart was in it.

The front door banged open mid-chop, and Aiko stormed in, her arms full of shopping bags. She stopped dead, staring at Haruka in the kitchen like she'd walked into an alien invasion. "What. Is. This?"

Riku leapt up, cookie crumbs tumbling from his shirt. "Aiko! Uh, Haruka just—"

"Came to say thanks," Haruka finished, waving a spatula. "I'm making dinner! Want some?"

Aiko's eyes narrowed, dropping her bags with a thud. "Dinner. In *my* kitchen."

"It's my kitchen too," Riku mumbled, but she ignored him, stalking over to the counter.

"Cookies, huh?" Aiko snatched one from the basket, biting into it with a frown. "Not bad. But I can do better."

Haruka blinked. "Better?"

"Yeah," Aiko said, tying her own apron over her jeans and sweater. "Let's see who Riku likes more—your dinner or mine."

"What?" Riku yelped. "This isn't a contest!"

"Too late," Aiko said, pulling out a pan. "Sit down, Riku-kun. You're judging."

Haruka grinned, unfazed. "Challenge accepted!"

The kitchen turned into a battlefield. Haruka stir-fried chicken with soy sauce and veggies, her movements frantic but cheerful. Aiko countered with teriyaki salmon, her precision a stark contrast—every flip of the fish deliberate, every sprinkle of seasoning a statement. Riku sat at the table, sweating, as the air filled with dueling aromas. He didn't want to judge. He didn't want to pick. But they weren't giving him a choice.

"Try mine first!" Haruka said, sliding a plate in front of him. The chicken was tender, if a little salty, and the veggies had a nice crunch. He nodded, mumbling, "It's good."

Aiko shoved her plate forward, elbowing Haruka aside. "Now mine." The salmon melted in his mouth, sweet and savory, with rice perfectly steamed. He swallowed, caught in her expectant stare. "Well?"

"It's… uh… really good too," he said, shrinking under their glares.

"Which is better?" Aiko pressed, leaning close.

"Yeah, pick!" Haruka added, mirroring her.

Riku's mind blanked. "I—I can't! They're both great! I like them both!"

Aiko huffed, crossing her arms. "Cop-out."

Haruka pouted, then brightened. "Fine, we'll call it a tie. But I'm not giving up!"

They cleaned up together, bickering over who got more praise, while Riku sank into his chair, exhausted. His parents came home to a spotless kitchen and two girls laughing over leftover cookies, oblivious to the war they'd just waged. Aiko shot him a look as she left with Haruka—one that said this wasn't over. Riku groaned. His quiet Saturday was gone, and the spotlight on him was only getting brighter.