Two pastry chefs down and a short break later, it was our turn to have our roll evaluated. I'd turned to my husband with fingers crossed behind my back before producing the bottle of sake we'd brought along to the table.

"Ah!" Mr. Yamazaki was the first to react, smiling at the sight of what I assumed was a familiar blue-frosted bottle. "You have sake?"

"It's part of the enjoyment," I laughed, filling one of the shot glasses that Xander had found in the cabinets while he was placing the cream cheese in the refrigerator to chill. Mr. Yamazaki nodded, a spark of amusement in his eyes before turning to his translator behind him and whispering. The translator nodded before whizzing off to somewhere.

With exactly three glasses filled, I presented one of each to the chefs. "Our swiss roll goes well with this particular type of sake! Um, at least I hope it does," I laughed sheepishly, preparing for the cut.

"Hold on for a sec," the photographer stopped me before I could pick up the cake cutter on my right. "Just a minute." He proceeded to snap several photos at lightning speed, camera clicking away as he hopped from angle to angle, looking fairly excited.

Chef Randy had laughed.

"Can you tell us more? What makes you say that it goes well with this?" She picked up the blue-frosted bottle, turning it to read the label at the back. "But really, it's like you two in one. An adorable-looking roll accompanied by a cup of sake—that's you and your husband on the table."

I felt my ears grow hot while the rest of the room laughed, looking on curiously. Xander shifted a little closer for some reason; I couldn't tell if it was just a coincidence or if it was him somehow reading my mind again and knowing that I was getting a tad nervous. Him being a little closer seemed to remove a portion of the butterflies in my tummy.

"Actually, um, I didn't exactly make a roulade! This is less traditional than um, it was supposed to be, I guess. I hope you don't mind—like Miss Rachel, I noticed that the roulade had a high chance of creaking so I left out the egg yolks in the recipe and used only egg whites. O-oh, wait we were talking about the cake. It's um, a cherry blossom swiss roll cake with sake-infused cream cheese as the filling!"

The three pastry chefs nodded, proceeding to take a closer look at the roll.

"Sake-infused cream cheese. I've never heard of that," laughed Mr. Huang, appearing slightly apprehensive.

"It is an interesting combination," Mr. Yamazaki nodded. "In Japan, we have sake cheesecake but I myself have not tried before. Also not with sakura flavour. But it sounds like it will work. Subtle flower flavour with strong sake cream cheese. Maybe we will see for ourselves."

Nervous, I began to cut three slices of the swiss roll, transferring one to each dessert plate while Xander helped with the handing out of dessert forks. That instant, I couldn't help but hold my breath and wait for them to finish with the tasting before waiting more for comments. Since neither Xander or I had personally tasted the roll, the possibilities of what was to come were endless.

Just then, Mr. Yamazaki's assistant returned with what looked like small porcelain cups in each hand, handing them to Shin's father who set them on the table.

"If it's sake we are drinking, we use these small cups called choko," he filled the porcelain cups with sake just like I had done for them and handed one each to Xander and I. I accepted it with two hands, thanking him rather blankly since this was all very sudden.

"Might as well. Since we are enjoying," he laughed. Then, he tipped back his shot glass and downed the liquid in a gulp—making my head spin.

Mr. Huang shook his head, smiling. "He said to drink it after eating the cake, Ryo."

Chef Randy had only just cut into her slice of cake and was holding it at eye-level, as though to inspect the tiny bit. "It cuts beautifully. Doesn't even look like a cake—the sponge is barely porous. So soft it almost looks like pudding." Then, she sent it into her jaws. W-wait, that sounds a little weird.

Mr. Yamazaki's way of tasting was slightly different. He tasted the elements separately before finally combining both the cake and the cream cheese between more glasses of sake.

Meanwhile, Xander and I were standing stock still, waiting for comments. Initially, I'd felt his hand twitch as soon as Mr. Yamazaki had offered us the cups of sake but I quickly slapped it aside, silently telling it to stay still. It did.

"Honestly, I didn't expect for sake to go with cream cheese. It's two strong flavours after all, you know. But," Mr. Huang began after a long pause. "For some reason, it does. The cream cheese recipe—the original one you use, maybe—is different already. It is very light. The sake you used penetrates the sweetness but it's not heavy and long-lasting. The aftertaste is subtle."

"That's why it goes well with the cherry blossom," Chef Randy nodded, going for more. "But you were asking for the syrup during preparation, weren't you? So what did you use instead of that?"

"I steamed the pickled petals and combined that with the paste together with ground cherry blossoms—which, um, turns into powder after it's ground, of course. Which you probably know," I rambled, unable to process what was going on. I didn't quite know what to expect.

Mr. Yamazaki had nothing to say except for a thumbs-up. "Sake fusion... I am picky with that. Sometimes, it doesn't go well. In your case, I wish this was sold at my bakery." He held up his glass of alcohol towards Xander and I.

At once, my husband's naughty hand was reaching for the traditional porcelain cup that Mr. Yamazaki had offered. Not exactly knowing what to do, I gingerly did the same.

Xander had raised his brow.

"You don't drink?" Chef Randy observed immediately, having raised the glass to her lips.

My gaze shifted from husband to pastry chefs, awkward. "U-um, well. It's not that I don't. It's probably just because I'm not really good with it, haha. I get drunk with barely a sip and my face gets really red."

I was about to apologize for wasting the drink when Xander reached over to take my hand (not even the cup, but actually my hand that was holding it!!) before bringing it to his lips and downing the sake in a go.

Needless to say, I retreated into my natural habitat of blush, absolutely petrified that Xander had embarrassed me in front of the entire room for the infinite time. I never should have brought him along ;-;

"He gets drunk from alcoholic chocolates," was all the notice he gave soon after, looking so frustratingly calm despite the attention we were getting. Mr Yamazaki's lips had shaped into an 'o', probably because he was the one who had sent the chocolates the night before.

"So you're saying you didn't taste your own cake at all?"

I turned to the voice from across the room—all the way at the end of the table was Miss Rachel, whose eyes were frighteningly narrowed. Eep.

"U-um, yes. I guess," I said in return, knowing this would sound rather strange to everyone else since tasting was always an important part of the process. Since everyone would be working with foreign ingredients, the importance of tasting would be even more than usual.

"I tasted for him," Xander said before I could continue. "It doesn't make the end product any less qualified than it is, though. Don't vegetarian chefs have to cook fish or meat sometimes? And those allergic to certain ingredients?"

I tapped his upper arm gently, silently telling him not to pick a fight but it wasn't Miss Rachel who replied. Instead, it was another pastry chef who stepped forth with a comment.

"Yes but doesn't that make it seem like it all boiled down to luck?"

My heart sank at once, feeling the weight of his words on my shoulders. He wasn't entirely wrong per se; there had to be some element of luck involved and somewhat blind faith in my husband, who wasn't exactly an experienced baker.

"U-um—"

"I admit that I'm not the most qualified person to rely on when it comes to baking," said Xander in return, laughing and stunning me for a second. "So you're right to imply that. But I think my husband can trust someone who's been tasting his baking for fifteen years." He lowered his gaze briefly, meeting mine for a second and flashing the sort of smile that hit me in the heart.

The participant who'd made the remark had averted his gaze, lips drawn thin with a frown. He didn't say anything else.

Meanwhile, a squeaky, excitable voice had sounded out down the row. "Ooh, fifteen years? Story time!" It was Cuppie.

"I'm surprised you didn't taste this before presenting it to us," Mr. Huang eyed me with an incredulous look. "That is very bold of you. I cannot deny... there is some luck involved. But maybe your partner is right. Maybe he does know what it should taste like."

Chef Randy nodded in agreement, placing her fork on the edge of her plate before thanking us with a smile and moving on to the next pastry chef first. Mr. Huang was next, and then Mr. Yamazaki, who'd asked if he could take the rest of the sake bottle.

"Oh! Actually, um. I was thinking if we could serve the rest of the sake while we're tasting everyone else's rolls later on."

At once, Shin's father returned the bottle. "Yes! Yes, of course. My mistake. I should have known."

Thanking us, he laughed and moved on to the next pastry chef, leaving Xander and I (or at the very least, just me) tingly with nerves. I peered up at him.

"You liar," said me the pebble, poking his abs. "What's this about tasting my baking for fifteen years? We didn't meet again until high school, and even then, you were barely there for a year before we were separated again! Plus, all you ever eat is hot-cross buns..." I folded my arms, realizing the extent of his lie and turning away to give him the cold shoulder he deserved.

I heard him laugh and felt the warmth of his body sidle up against my back.

"But I sure remembered it for fifteen," he began, poking my tummy in return. "The taste. Of an angel."

All I could think of then was the sound of sirens going off in my head and the inability to decide between hiding under the table and burying my face in his chest. Remind me again about the cold shoulder that I was supposed to be giving him... some other time.

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

Soon enough, every pastry chef had their rolls evaluated and it was time for us to share our experience with guests and other participants. Mr. Yamazaki called it 'sharing time' but it somehow turned into a mini dessert-buffet where piling slices of swiss rolls on plates were a thing. O-or at least that was what I was doing.

With a noisy tummy, I'd brought along with me two plates and went down the row to get Giselle and Xander some goodies. Meanwhile, my husband had left the room to fetch Giselle from the guest table, leaving me to venture for potential yummies.

"Chip!" I heard someone call from a distance away and spotted a waving arm amidst other guests who were helping themselves to bite-sized samples of swiss rolls. I tottered over.

"I heard Chef Randy saying you had the most interesting aesthetic," I said upon arriving at Cuppie's section of the long table and spotting the most oddly appealing dark-grey swiss roll I'd ever seen. It was close to being black. "W-what is that! It it it looks so strangely... pretty and... I don't know! It makes you want to taste it."

She laughed, slapping her thigh thrice as she did. "To see if it's somehow so evenly burnt around the whole swiss roll? I put bamboo charcoal powder in the batter! It's super healthy, like in a detox sense, and gives the cake a different flavour depth. I didn't think it'd turn out like this though, since tasting the powder raw was ugh," she shivered. "Never again."

"Wow, I'd never think of that." Already, I was taking a fork and reaching for the sample, Xander and Giselle's plates completely slipping past the dangers of my hungry tummy. "What's the filling?"

"Earl grey chantilly cream," Cuppie held out a hand to take my plates for me, transferring a generous slice of swiss roll onto each plate. "I was deciding between earl grey and Matcha chantilly but I'd already seen some bakeries in the East do that combination so I figured why not go for something totally out of bounds. So earl grey it was!"

"Ann ih worhed," I attempted with my mouth full, surprised by the fragrance of the bamboo charcoal. In terms of novelty, this was most likely the roll with the greatest spark of creativity.

Though I'd intended to voice my admiration and respect for her reckless ideas before running back to my hole and thinking about how the world was filled with amazing pastry chefs all around, my brain had decided to short-circuit from all the information and ended up with: "Why black?"

Cuppie had laughed for three seconds straight before pulling the straightest face I did not dare imagine, leaning forward to whisper: "Because it reflects the state of my heart."

We both laughed.

*

My task to fill Xander and Giselle's plates remembered, I bid my friend goodbye and hopped down the table for more goodies, where I almost literally bumped into Shin. The first thing he said wasn't 'hi'.

"SirIwouldneverhavethoughtaboutfusingsakeandcreamcheeseomgyouareagenius," he breathed and I laughed, looking down at the glasses of water, apple cider and sparkling juice he had balanced on a tray.

"But aren't you underaged, Shin? You wouldn't be thinking of using that if you're not supposed to be drinking it in the first place. A-also, do you by any chance have orange juice?"

"The other server has them," Shin reported at once, looking around to point her out. "But... yeah, I guess you're right. I was standing at the door looking at you and Mr. Jaxon and it really made me wonder what I was doing not baking. Also, I took some videos of you two and sent it to Nguyen. Y-you're okay with that, right?"

I blinked. "Oh. That's completely fine. Although it would be embarrassing if you caught us bumbling around sometimes," I laughed, sheepish. "And Xander's just embarrassing in general."

"Well, the videos made Nguyen very happy, so," said Japanese boi with a telling look in his eyes, smiling rather strangely for the first time. At once, my cupid-radar went off the charts. "Don't worry about it."

I nudged his shoulder. "Hehe, you seem very fond of her," I teased, watching his cheeks burn in response.

"Uh, well, uh, I don't quite know sir um... actually I'm just going to be walking around serving drinks or my dad's going to say that I spent the whole afternoon skiving," Shin concluded very quickly, excusing himself with another wave before hastily ducking out of sight.

Aw! Teens in love. Hehe, very cute.

I'd collected several goodies for Xander and Giselle and was wondering what was taking them so long when I noticed that a crowd had gathered before a section of the table, which I assumed was some popular pastry chef's work and would explain the furious demand. People were helping themselves to cake all around and I had to admit, was starting to feel like the friendly sharing party that I thought—wait a minute. That's my section of the table people were crowding around!

With haste, I made my way to the other end of the table and u-turned to the other side where I was supposed to be seated and answering questions from guests about my cake. Though I'd figured then that, well, no one would stop by due to my weird combination of flavours.

I was halfway there—just a couple of feet away from the crowd which I assumed was the queue—when a dull, oddly loud splat came from the front of the table, followed by several gasps and 'oohs'. The entire room fell silent.

Rushing to my seat and placing Xander and Giselle's plates on the table, I gave my section a quick check before noticing, well, quite obviously, that our roll cake had vanished into thin air.

I'd moved it close to the edge of the table so that everyone else would have an easy time with cutting and transferring fresh slices on their own (I didn't like the idea of creating a platter of samples since the cream cheese inside would lose its consistency) but... but where did it go?

I turned to look at the crowd gathered before our section of the table to see their gazes lowered to something on the ground, before several slowly met my own. Everyone appeared speechless.

"Um—" "Well, it... sort of..." "I have no idea how that happened."

I couldn't see what was on the ground since I wasn't tall enough and the table was blocking my view of the floor but already, one could guess what it was.

"Someone probably knocked into the table and it tipped over..." "Did you see who did it?" "No, I mean, there were so many of us and the person before me was, just, well he had his slice on the plate and was moving away when—I mean. None of us were touching it."

It took me quite a while to process what was going on and how I should be reacting in that instant, leaving me with a blank look on my face before a familiar voice intervened.

"The last person who touched it?"

My husband had returned with his sister beside him, and I could tell from the look on his face that things were not going to end well. Yet, for some odd reason, I hadn't the will to stop his anger from rising. Perhaps because I was feeling fairly upset myself.

"Weren't you the one—" "I was only passing by." "But you hit the table." "It wasn't me!"

I watched them slowly turn against each other, a creeping discomfort in my chest. This wasn't what it was supposed to be.

All of a sudden, Giselle reached for a dessert fork on the table and bent down with it, disappearing under the table and out of my sight before straightening up with a forkful of swiss roll which she almost sent into her open mouth. Xander stopped her.

She looked just as upset about the cake as I was. After all, she did have a say in the colour and, well, perhaps by some extension, she felt some ownership over it too.

"I didn't get to eat it!"

"I know," Xander told her quietly, leaving the group of guests standing before my section of the table to argue amongst themselves. His tone was firm but uncertain, as though unable to restrain the rest of his emotions piling up. "I didn't either. But we can always have it another time. Desserts don't last. But the people who make them do."

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

[Rachel]

There appeared to be some sort of commotion going on in the middle of the room while I was sitting with a couple of guests at their tables, explaining the concepts behind the kind of roll I was striving for while they listened attentively. I'd tasked Jennifer with the business at the table, wanting to hear the opinions of as many guests as possible since, well, the opinions of three people wouldn't necessarily add up to the opinion of a whole. Which I was fortunately right about.

"I think the white chocolate balances the bitterness of the matcha very well. And the cherry blossom does add an additional depth to the flavour," said a man in a bow tie, having tasted a portion of the sample I presented him. His wife had nodded.

Unfortunately, the commotion was beginning to ebb across the room and I could no longer concentrate on the conversation at hand, forcing me to look across the room in an attempt to pick out the cause of it all.

I spotted Jennifer making her way towards me and instantly told her to return. "Please don't tell me you left the table unattended. Guests need to understand where I'm coming from."

"But they've wiped our samples clean, Miss Rachel." To my relief, she'd brought good news. "I came over because I didn't want to get involved with whatever's going on over there."

I paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well uh," Jennifer's gaze rested on the crowd that had gathered somewhere in the middle of the table. I followed. "Someone tipped over Honeycutt's roll. It splattered all over the floor, so... but no one really knows what happened. There were too many people around. I can't say for sure."

"Oh..."

Incredible, I felt my breath catch. Just how many sins did he commit to deserve such discipline? First, forgetting the syrup and now, this? Surely, this cannot be pure misfortune but the workings of Him behind it. I've never seen anything like this.

"And has anyone owned up to it?"

Jennifer shook her head. "They're bickering over who should be responsible. Honeycutt didn't say a word."

And for it to go unresolved! Discipline indeed... but lovingly so, perhaps. He would learn to care for his work. After all, he did leave it unattended.

"And you didn't even have to lift a finger!" Jennifer whispered in my ear, a large grin spanning across her face. Curious. The thought did cross the back of my mind.