A/N: I went through the votes and comments from the previous chapter and I wasn't quite expecting some Crash readers to be so aggressive for new chapters but Cuppie, a threatened existence, decided to lose some sleep to update both books because she real dedicate. :') Happy New Year everyone!

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[Chip]

"No sir, nothing is wrong," he successfully contradicted himself n five words. "Please don't bother about me and um, I' sure you're busy with your icing too, so."

I shook my head at once and straight up grabbed him by his shoulders. "Y-you! Tell me what's wrong at once or or or I'll... I'll confiscate your whisk!"

My fool-proof threat caused the colour to drain from Shin's face and he at once began to spill all the tiny little beans he'd been hoarding in his pocket. I gave myself a mental pat on the back, privately proud of my progress in dishing out fearful threats that often resulted in the bending of one's will to my own. Mwehe.

"Not the whisk. Anything but the whisk—I need that to make the icing! Which I've been trying to make for the past twenty minutes, sir. Twenty!" He whispered-shouted, scrambling over to the mixing bowl on his counter top and showing me the consistency of his latest attempt. That didn't look like icing, alright.

"It's very runny, Shin. What kind of cream are you using?" I dipped a spatula into the mixing bowl and watched the liquid run back into it at a speed that resembled maple syrup. "Someone as meticulous as you wouldn't not know how to whip up some simple icing."

"Soy milk," he sighed after a pause. "I've never done it before but I'm making a pandanus chiffon cake with a soya milk base and soy whipped cream, you see. Two separate layers. Without the icing, I'm afraid it'll be a little too plain and I know I shouldn't be going way out of my comfort zone at a time like this when no one's around to keep in check—I kind of miss Nguyen, she does it a lot—but I actually, well actually the main reason I'm taking my father's place today is because I made a deal with him."

I put my hands on his shoulders, reminding him to breathe. "Calm down Shin. I can see that this is very important to you but take deep breaths. Inhaaale, exhaaale."

"Angel," Xander had turned around to call over his shoulder. "Your husband can't handle this on his own. He's going to blow up the kitchen very soon."

"Keep quiet, husband!" I dismissed in return, shooing his gaze and pointing towards the mixing bowl that he should be focusing his eyes on before turning back to Shin. "Nothing to worry about. Soy whipped cream is a hit or a miss. Sometimes it thickens, sometimes it doesn't, so the consistency is, i-is, well, it's never consistent." I blushed at my very own pun, unintentionally made at a terrible timing. "Ignore that. Are you insisting on this as your icing?"

Shin had gone slightly dazed the moment he'd heard my pun but appeared to snap back to reality at the question. "Uh. I. I did think of using coconut cream instead but—"

"It's too strong," I nodded. "Risk overpowering the pandanus flavour."

Japanese boi nodded aggressively, producing another carton of soy milk from the cooler in the cabinet below the countertop. "I... I'm just going to have to give this a gamble until I succeed. Or uh. The time runs out." He bit his lip at the end of his sentence, brandishing his whisk as though it would somehow prove his point.

I snatched it out of his hands. "What! Now's not the time to be using whisks, Shin. Get the electric mixer y-you... you fool!" Giselle would be proud.

"Oh. Oh yes, okay yeah you're right," panicked Shin began to think, hurrying over to the electric mixer on the other end of his station and plugging it into the power point. "I'll do that."

"I'll go get another mixer. We can do two at once, just in case the other fails. If both work in the end, I can use it as my icing too, so. Zero waste," I reassured before giving him a pat on the back and dashing off to get a second mixer, reminding Xander not to take his eyes off the mixing bowl.

*

By the time we'd combined all the ingredients into the mixing bowls and were letting the electric mixers run on low, seven minutes had passed and a grand total of eight minutes was left on the clock. Shin had stolen three glances at my husband (who had been trying to figure out how to increase the speed of our own mixer for the past two minutes) at the work station in front. Phew, that was a lot of numbers.

"Is Mr. Jaxon going to be okay?" My student whispered as the timer I'd set a while ago beeped and we hastily added a trickle of oil into the mix.

I laughed sheepishly. "Xander will be fine. We used to be partners in home economics class, you know? Just like you and Nguyen! But, u-um, I mean. Not exactly like you and Nguyen. You guys get along much better than we did."

"Does that mean Nguyen and I are going to get married," breathed Shin to himself, eyes wide. "Ohmygod."

I flicked the side of his cheek, leaving a smear of cream that covered his blush. "No, silly! If every home economics partner in high school end up getting married to each other, talking bunnies exist."

"Aw," his shoulders fell and I laughed, unable to comprehend how anyone else couldn't tell how much he liked his best friend. "You could have lied, sir. Now I've lost two of my dreams in the span of five minutes."

I turned to him just as the timer beeped once more. "O-oh! I didn't mean to do that. What happened to the first?"

"Actually, I..." He sighed. "It's about my dad. He said he'd agree to my plans of going to culinary school in London if I proved myself worthy today. So he's giving me the chance to and that's why I'm replacing him today. Uh. Don't tell anyone about that. He's supposed to have gone back to the Time's office for some research thing.

"After all that and I had to mess up by taking some risk I shouldn't have thought about... causing trouble for others who come save my stupid ass," Shin rolled his eyes at himself, increasing the speed of the mixer just as I did. "Sorry again. And sorry I cursed."

I patted him on the back, meeting Xander's gaze just as he turned around to stare upon hearing Shin utter a treacherous curse. I shot him my best 'I'm watching you' glare and he laughed, turning back to the mixer.

"That's alright Shin. And I don't understand why you're so upset about it! It's great that your father decided to give you a chance," I stopped the mixture to check the consistency of the cream. It hadn't thickened. "We've got, um. We've got five minutes to get this together."

Shin was back to a panic and he, too, stopped the mixer to check his icing. It looked exactly like the one in mine. With the period of emulsion long passed, there was nothing left to do but leave both mixers on high and cross our fingers.

"Get your cake out of the oven and cool it first," I told him, taking over his mixer. "I'll watch both of these for you. Meanwhile, take half of the whipping cream from Xander and add it to either of these attempts after you're done with the cake."

"Are you sure, sir?" Shin was turning pale. "But do you have enough for—"

I brandished a whisk before his eyes to silence his protests. "No buts! Your father's counting on you. And the fact that he's given you a chance means that doing well today means something—well, means a lot of something—to you.

"Meanwhile, I'm just a pebble trying my best. I can't say I don't want to impress your dad or, well, the rest of his colleagues but you know," I laughed. "I think I've got all I need to be happy for the rest of my life already."

Shin stared at me as though I'd bestowed upon him the key to the forbidden treasure of life, tucked away at the end of a rainbow as he held his angel food cake pan in his mittened hands. He set it down on the cooling rack and forgot to turn it over, so I reminded him about it and went back to my station to fetch the whipped cream from husbando.

"Got all you need for the rest of your life, huh," he teased when I returned to his side, presenting him a mixing bowl for him to fill. "So... just gonna stay home and retire from angel duties?"

I poked his abs. "No. It just means that I can spend my time helping others get to where they want to be."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Under such circumstances, one would usually be feeling all stressed out and fidgety from time constraint paired with everything else spiraling out of control and yet, Shin and I seemed to have arrived at a state of Zen so unlikely that both of us seemed to have accepted the fate of never-thickening soy whipped cream—the unluckiest 50-50 gamble either of us had the misfortune of coming across.

"I made you lose half of your whipped cream and still ended up with an icing that's just as bad as it was before," stated Shin matter-of-factly, without a bat of an eyelash. "What a great way to dash my hopes by ruining someone else's at the same time.

"I'm so sorry," he turned to me to say at the very last second, after piping the half-hearted, half-thickened soy whipped cream icing onto his chiffon cake and letting it dribble in loops. It didn't look too bad at all.

Giving the turntable a final spin to doubly ensure a smooth icing surface (I'd added two drops of ube extract to make it a nice lilac colour), I placed the spatula aside and told Shin not to worry. "At the end of the day, no one can say anything about food that tastes good. It's bellies you're feeding, after all."

Together with everyone else, we brought our cakes to the front of the hall at the ring of the second bell, before all the work stations where we were supposed to gather. Unfortunately, Shin was due all the way at the other end of the long table, which meant that I couldn't continue comforting him while the organizers were testing out the rest of the cakes.

"I'll be fine sir. You've done so much for me—I'll do my best not to let you down," he said, seemingly determined.

I was about to tell him that there was nothing to let down in the first place since I was never one to put him in the pressure cooker when several people began cutting me off in the direction I was heading, taking their designated places by alphabetical order. O-oh. I'd overshot.

Thankfully, Xander stretched out an arm just in time to prevent me from bumping into someone else. "So," they were saying as I was looked up to apologize. "Did your cake turn out thick, crumbly and heavy?"

"I'll save you a slice, Rachel," my husband smirked before I could formally thank her for her advice earlier on. "It'll shut you up."

!!! Xan! I couldn't close my mouth and Miss Rachel appeared unable to as well, suffering similar symptoms of 'devil shock' in the form of Xander. Either way, I noticed that her chiffon cake was very well made. Judging by its colour and the variety of ingredients I'd seen in her basket at the pantry, I assumed it was a cherry blossom chiffon cake.

What surprised me even more was the unique colouring of it; it looked as though it was made out of three layers, fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle and of three different shades of pink—the bottom-most layer being the darkest. She'd even made the differentiating line between the layers vague, sort of like blending and blurring the line to give the impression that they were one layer altogether from afar.

"Uh! Um, he didn't mean that," I laughed stiffly, stealthily nudging my husband in his side while Miss Rachel raised a brow. "You are very skilled at the ombre technique, by the way."

Having done my best to change the subject and ease the tension, I whizzed Xander and ube cake to our places at the table before further damage could be dealt by him.

"Come on Angel," sighed the evil pebb—um, rock. "I whipped the icing all by myself! Could have at least let me show off a little."

"No you didn't! The mixer did it for you," I flashed a cheeky smile. "And no showing off. We're not here to show off."

I caught Xander rolling his eyes. "Fine..."

Yesterday, Chef Randy and her colleagues had started from the beginning of the alphabet and went down the table from there but today, joined by Monsieur Moreau, they decided to start from the back. Shin, of course, was now looking very pale indeed.

All colour was further lost when the click of a door opening from the back of the hall turned heads and Mr. Yamazaki, a briefcase in hand and the usual radiance on his face, entered with a wave. Everyone waved back.

"Please don't mind me. I'm just spectator," he gestured for us to return our attention to Chef Randy and the rest, which we did. All except Shin.

Supposedly second from the back, well, naming a bakery after their family name, Shin could do nothing but wait for his eventual judgement which probably wasn't going to be as bad as he thinks it's going to be. I'd commend him for having the most novel idea in the room. Most of the key ingredients used were pretty much either recycled from yesterday's grand ideas or generally safe choices like earl grey and coconut. E-except Cuppie, who appeared to have made a durian chiffon cake covered in icing that spiked outwards. Supposedly reflecting the shape of her heart then, I laughed quietly, already able to imagine how she would be saying it.

"Oh! You must be Ryo's son," Monsieur Moreau beamed the moment they were done with taste-testing the previous bakery's creation, moving on to the next. Shin looked just as stunned as I was when he heard his father's first name, staring blankly in return for a brief moment before snapping out of his reverie.

"Uh, yes. Yes sir, I am," he cleared his throat, hands placed behind his back. "I was given the opportunity to bake in my father's place today."

Chef Randy nodded. "Let's see what you have for us."

The pastry chefs down the table tiptoed and craned their necks to see the cake on Shin's table, interest piqued at the mention of Mr. Yamazaki's son. Now that everyone was desperate to catch a glimpse of my student and his creation, my field of vision was filled with bobbing heads and shoulders. I couldn't see what was going on at all.

"He's cutting the cake," Xander narrated. "It doesn't look too good. They don't look very impressed." O-oh no.

There was the sound of clinking utensils and ceramic plates among silence but from where I was standing, Mr. Yamazaki's face remained unreadable as he looked on.

"It's a pandan soya chiffon cake. I used only egg whites in the batter and I also tried to make the icing by whipping soy milk, maple syrup and corn oil as the emulsifier, but... it didn't turn out very well."

"Yes, soy whipped cream runs the risk of not thickening from time to time," Mr. Huang said with a sigh. "You knew this?"

"He's nodding," my personal lighthouse went on with his duties.

"Ah, so Honeycutt was at your station because of this?" Monsieur Moreau asked kindly but Shin was already beyond recovering at this state.

"We tried to make another batch of the icing but when we were unlucky both times, he gave me half the whipped cream that Mr. Jaxon made," said the poor boy and all of a sudden, I found myself looking at dozens of eyes. Unconsciously, I sunk into my husband and waited for their attention to go elsewhere.

"Euh, it's not a competition," Monsieur Moreau seemed to try, turning back to Shin. "You don't need to be so... so uptight about it. The idea is good. I am surprised you know how to handle the leaves of pandan! Very tricky."

Chef Randy on the other hand, wasn't as nice about it as Monsieur Moreau was; telling Shin that although the taste was acceptable, the presentation was far lacking and didn't look like something she would eat. At once, the defiant pebble in me raged that ordinary chiffon cakes were eaten without icing either way so no one would be in the right mind to buy a chiffon cake with icing twice the price when they could get a cheaper and already delicious one without icing.

For the first time, I was beginning to wonder if I'd made the right choice in accepting the invitation to what was supposed to be happy days of sharing and learning new things related to baking. It didn't quite seem like what I thought it was going to be and one look at Mr. Yamazaki confirmed my suspicions.

He wasn't looking at his son.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[Rachel]

Everyone was looking at Chip Honeycutt like he was the saviour of the world just because he gave half his icing to someone who wasn't even considered a participating member of the prize competition. I'd left the room right after the testing, leaving the serving of the guests to Jennifer instead.

The fact that he might not have known about the annual prize being at stake proved far worse than knowing—I couldn't tell what his intentions were in the least. Having noticed Mr. Yamazaki leaving the room quietly after witnessing his son being criticised however, I knew I had to do something.

Taking with me the box of chocolates that I had intended to hand him the day before, I headed to the conference room where I supposed he might be, sorting out the documents he'd collected from the office today. Trudy must have had people sent them; though their exact contents weren't familiar with me either.

All that I could fathom at present were the looks they were giving to Honeycutt. The attention they were paying him and how he was getting it all with zero skill. Something is being conveyed. There must be something He is trying to tell me with these events and I'm not quite getting it at all.

Honeycutt offered unnecessary help to someone who didn't need it—leaving his own creation mediocre and lacking as a result and just yesterday, his cake was completely ruined by accident. All of it was too much guided and planned. Misfortune on his part, supposedly undermining his efforts and yet, being rewarded as the same time.

"I'm too anxious."

And now I'm talking to myself in the elevator. Rachel, you need some sleep. Arriving at the floor of the hotel's conference room, I stepped out; taking deep breaths and preparing the words to be spoken whilst praying for strength, nevertheless.

At the doorstep of the room, I paused and knocked. "Mr. Yamazaki? It's Rachel from ARCD." And waited.

"Hello?" I knocked again, waiting. Strange. I was so sure he was headed this way. Excusing myself, I entered the room only to find it clearly unoccupied.

I thought of leaving the chocolates here but my initial reasons for stopping by would then become null. Waiting was the better option, rather than making guesses at where he would be next. Unless he'd returned to his room first... but that too, wouldn't be the natural flow of things. He would have to waste an additional trip downstairs since the documents were due here either way.

Taking a seat, I looked around the room. There was a podium shifted to the side of the room all the way at the front, most likely prepared in the occasion of official presentations. The room was unusually cold and I'd meant to adjust the temperature of the air-conditioning, searching for a remote of sorts at the podium when I came across a folder placed beside the conference mic.

I was about to leave it alone and look elsewhere for the remote when I noticed the small gold letters embossed on the corner of the folder.

A. Dempsey