11

There wasn't any need to argue back and front with Aiko again. Nervously, Yuki zipped open his bag, and brought out the sketchbook dropping it at the edge of Aiko's table. "I can explain Ma'am. I'm an artist and I just love to draw. It's not some infactuation or love that your face is in my book."

"Yuki Mori!" Aiko yelled his name and Yuki shivered once more. "Before I dismiss you, I noticed a flier in school. I guess you work at a bakery right?"

It was odd she had brought this up but Yuki blinked in surprise, trying to regain his composure. "Uh, yes, actually. I work at Suncrest Delights," he answered, trying to sound casual, though his pulse was still quick from the earlier exchange. "It's just a part-time thing. I help out with the cakes and stuff. We also plan house party and confectioners."

Aiko raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "Suncrest Delights, huh? I've heard of it. I did see a flier at the sub-station while going home. Must be a lot of work juggling school and work."

"Yeah, it is," Yuki replied, feeling a little more at ease now that the subject was moving away from his sketchbook. "It's a small place, but we get pretty busy, especially around holidays."

Aiko nodded thoughtfully before speaking again, her voice a bit softer. "Well, my son's birthday is coming up, and he's a huge fan of Naruto. I was wondering if you could help me with something. I need a themed cake based on naruto. I don't know if you can do something like that, but I thought I'd ask."

Yuki's heart skipped a beat.

A cake for her son?

Aiko had a son? How the hell did he not know about it?

Aiko felt uneasy under Yuki's curious gaze and shifted a small portrait of her and a boy in plus sized sweatshirt, giggling in the picture. "He is my late aunt's son. I adopted him you know and I decided to just have him as my son. He is autistic and damn, it's not easy."

Yuki's gaze lingered briefly on the photograph—a snapshot of pure joy, the boy's eyes crinkled in laughter as Aiko held him close. Something inside Yuki softened. He hadn't expected this side of her, not from the stern and intimidating woman who just yelled his name across the room moments ago.

"I didn't know," he murmured, stepping a bit closer, voice laced with newfound respect. "He looks really happy in that picture."

Aiko smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "He has his good days and… not-so-good ones. He doesn't talk much to strangers. But he loves Naruto, especially when it's the Fourth Hokage scenes. He says it reminds him of someone 'strong and warm.'"

Yuki chuckled gently. "That's Minato, right? I can totally work with that. We could make a layered cake—maybe have Rasengan effects or even edible prints of Naruto and Minato. If you like, I can sketch out a few ideas first."

"Oh that's lovely. But he wants it home made. He wanted to make it with me but bad how I don't know how to make cakes or anything. So I was wondering...." Aiko pulled out Yuki's test script, tapping her nails on it. "You teach me how to make a cake. On Saturdays when you are free or any day. I can pick you up with my car and then we'd go to my house. I don't want Mismi to know I don't know how to bake a cake."

"Go to your house?" Yuki came off blunt as his head rang another meaning to it.

Aiko raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening with amusement as she caught the tone in his voice. "Yes, Yuki. My house. Where ovens exist. Where cakes are made. Surely your artistic brain can process that."

Yuki's ears turned red, and he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Right—no, I mean, of course. I just… I didn't expect that."

Aiko leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she tapped the edge of the test script again. "I don't expect you to say yes out of pity or guilt," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "You're free to say no. I'll just go back to YouTube and set the kitchen on fire."

Yuki's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "Well, if saving a kitchen and helping a Naruto fan isn't enough motivation, I don't know what is." He paused. "Saturday afternoons usually work. I can talk to my boss and get a few hours off."

"Perfect," Aiko replied smoothly, picking up her phone and opening her gallery. "Now come over here. I saved a few inspiration pictures."

She turned the phone to face him, then patted the space beside her chair. "Don't hover—come properly."

Yuki hesitated, then stepped around her desk, crouching beside her. As he leaned in, their shoulders brushed, and for a split second, the warmth of their skin made him freeze. Aiko didn't flinch, didn't pull away. She just swiped through her pictures, her perfume light and floral, dangerously distracting.

"This one," she said, stopping on a photo of a vibrant orange and blue layered cake shaped like a kunai scroll with edible shuriken accents. "Can we do something like this?"

Yuki, still trying to pretend he wasn't flustered, nodded. "Yeah. But we'll need to simplify the details a bit for a home bake. I'll make a list of supplies and tools."

"Good," she said, her voice softer now, almost thoughtful. "Mismi will love it. He deserves something special this year."

Yuki looked at the screen again, then at her. "He's lucky to have you, you know."

Aiko glanced at him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she smiled, quiet and real.

"You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"Uh?" Yuki raised his brows, his face a breath away from Aiko's face. He looked into her shimmering black eyes and resisted doing whatever he would have done----Kisssed her. "Um, Miss Aiko, thank you for the opportunity. I really appreciate."

Or should he say, thank you for making him upgrade to the next level of being close to her. Now knowing Aiko had a son, if Yuki could get closer to the boy, maybe he could win Aiko's heart.

Aiko didn't move away. She just studied him for a moment longer before her lips curved into a smirk. "Careful, Yuki. You're looking at me like I'm one of your sketchbook muses again."

Yuki jerked back, nearly stumbling as he stood up too fast. "I-I wasn't! I mean—" he trailed off, cheeks flaming as Aiko chuckled quietly, her laugh low and elegant, like velvet.

She didn't tease him further. Instead, she stood too, slipping her phone back into her coat pocket. "Saturday at two, Yuki. Don't be late. I'll text you my address. And bring your artistic brain—I'm trusting you with my kitchen."

Yuki gave a small, awkward bow, his mouth dry. "Yes, ma'am—uh, I mean, Aiko-san. Wait, no… ma'am sounds weird now that I'm baking with you at home…"

Aiko waved a hand, already turning to her papers. "Just go before you implode. And don't forget the supply list."

As Yuki backed out of the classroom, clutching his sketchbook tightly, he let out a slow breath. What the hell just happened?

He'd walked in today expecting detention or a lecture. Now he was going to Aiko's house, baking a Naruto cake for her adopted son, and sitting close enough to smell the perfume in her hair. His heart was still pounding.

And yet… he smiled.

Beep beep....

"2'o clock already?"