☕︎
ch o4.
Midnight Baking
With The Next
Gordon Ramsay!

The crickets came out of their hiding places, singing their loudest. A lukewarm wind blew through the deserted streets, ruffling my clothes. Pikachu shot me a confused glance.

"It's no use, bud," I told him, checking my wristwatch. Half past ten. "I hope she shows up tomorrow."

"Pika?"

"It's just my own thinking," I reasoned, turning off the lights. "The more you wait, the more it will hurt."

His ears drooped, and he pointed, tiny, harmless sparks crackling in the air. I shook my head and offered him my shoulder to climb onto. When he refused, I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and started walking home. His footfall, stealthy as it could get, followed.

Taking the turn to the main road, I lingered at the crossroad, glancing back at the building again.

Nestled among taller shops, my café was almost invisible. It was intentional, to build a little community of people needing support.

My mind reeled back to when Nurse Joy came in a few minutes ago, complaining about how poor the electricity supply had become and the challenges it posed to the medical field; I was an unofficial counselor for such people seeking support. I couldn't afford to lose the business in pursuit of a happily ever after, or a nuance along that line.

I inhaled deeply, gazing up at the starry skies above. The fiery celestes glowed and twinkled teasingly, adoring the dark skies of the night in a melody. They were only outshined by the greater, brighter, and more beautiful thing nestled among the passing, wispy clouds.

Perhaps I could be the moon to someone's star by listening to their scars, their pains, and their happiness. That had been, so far, the only objective I had ever since Mom opened this tiny café.

Despite being the breadwinning business, it was also a shelter. A shelter to get away to when you wanted nothing more than to work through the day, sip coffee all night, smell caffeine in the air, and eliminate any lingering romance.

"Right," I muttered to myself, clenching my fists in my pockets. My heart sank wistfully, but it was my choice to walk away. Perhaps she'd hate me for not waiting longer. Perhaps she'd consider not stopping by anymore.

My steps felt heavier as I walked under the flickering streetlights. "Pika!" My Pokémon's voice rang out, and I glanced over my shoulder. He had paused, a few feet away, and was pointing at a silhouette running toward us.

My heart broke into a race when I caught a glimpse of gold. The streetlight above flickered and beamed its shine on her. My eyes widened, and I froze when she skidded to a stop in front of me.

"Miss Serena?" I managed, looking at her, doubling forward and leaning on her knees. It took her a moment to catch her breath before she straightened and flashed me a warm smile—the same one she wore often.

She broke into a rant, bowing thrice. "I'm so sorry! I'm so terribly late! I'm so sorry!"

The clouds obscured her partially before the moon's loving rays illuminated her wholly. When she straightened again, the beams hit her eyes, reflecting more emotions than just apologetic.

I had no clue what came over me the next second. "That's okay. Do you wanna give it a go now?"

The girl smiled wider, her moonlit golden hair bouncing about her shoulders when she nodded. "Yes, please, if you don't mind!"

─── ⋆⋅☕⋅⋆ ───

"One hundred and eighty?"

The girl bobbed her head, a strand of her hair coming loose from her hastily put-up messy bun. It took me a moment to process her answer, even though it was simple. "Yes."

Inputting the set amount, I turned to the girl. The Pikachu apron looked really cute on her.

I pinched the sides of my cheeks in exasperation. What the hell is going on in your mind?!

Serena looked at me, confusion gracing her features. I flashed her an awkward toothy grin, and she turned back to the bowl she was working on. "Now, you mix up the ingredients—butter, flour, and the eggs. You can add a pint of milk, too, and finish it with the essence you like. I'll use vanilla to make it simple."

"Yes, miss."

Her eyes flitted to my face, and she blinked, the spatula hanging in the air. I felt the air grow thick with strange anticipation. For what?

Leaning back, I fidgeted in my spot.

"I'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

Oh, that's all.

"Ash."

A shiver ran through my spine when a soft smile graced her features. "Ash," she repeated gently, the monosyllabic name rolling off her tongue like spring waiting for winter to pass. "Ash. That's a pretty name."

"Not as pretty as yours." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I clasped a hand to my lips, blushing hard when pink rose to her cheeks and neck. "Sorry, that just slipped out!" I stammered, running a hand through my hair.

A tense minute later, the sound of Serena's light giggles filled the air. She put the back of her palm to her mouth before quieting down. "You're quite the charmer, Ash."

I awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of my neck. The blush didn't seem to have died out from her pale skin either, but she was back to the task. Wanting desperately to change the topic, I started. "You seem like a natural at this. Have you baked before?"

"Yeah, quite a few times, but that's so long ago." A look of nostalgia crossed her eyes, and I knew better than to press forward.

"At this rate, the cake will turn out better than I imagined!"

The girl clicked her tongue, the sound aligning with the electric mixer. She poured the vanilla essence and gently placed it on the table before leaning toward me. My heart rate quickened, seeing the teasing glint in her eye. This was savage love.

"But isn't the bar really low?" she whispered, and got back to mixing the ingredients. I blinked, the words sinking in before I retorted.

"Hey, you don't have to roast me when we're baking!" I protested, crossing my arms dramatically and glaring at her. The stray lock of her hair was teasing me—

Pull yourself together!

Serena's laughter rang throughout the kitchen again, infectious to the core, and it had me grinning madly as well.

A sudden thud forced a stop to our fun, and I looked over the counter to find a white Pikachu. He stuck his tongue out and hopped onto the table. Like a cat, he shrugged off the flour, covering the entire kitchen in white dust.

"Pika—" I coughed, rushing to the switchboard to turn on the exhaust fan. "Chu!" When the dust storm cleared and my vision focused, I raised my hand as if to grab the electric mouse but froze when Serena's laughter filled my chest with a weird warmth.

"I thought—" she choked out, clutching her stomach. "That you were a charmer, but Pikachu's a mastermind!"

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I narrowed my eyes at the mischievously chuckling rat. You won't see the light of tomorrow, buddy, I thought, walking back to Serena.

When her fit died out, she handed me the bowl. "Now pour it into the cake tray."

"Me?" I asked, incredulous. "You're trusting me to do this part?"

"Well, I thought you could manage pouring it," she shrugged, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. Our aprons and skin were pretty pale because of flour and whatnot.

"Of course, I can!" I exclaimed, hitting my chest with my fist. "Watch me!"

My brows knitted together as I inverted the bowl into the cake tray, biting the inside of my cheek. When I was sure it was empty, I placed it back on the counter.

Puffing out my chest, I pointed at the perfectly rippled cake tray. "That's how it's done. Perfect execution."

Serena giggled. "Bravo, Ash! You might as well be the next Gordon Ramsay."

Playfully rolling my eyes, I put the tray into the oven and turned to her to catch her staring at me. Leaning against the doorframe and with crossed arms, she gave one of her infamous warm smiles.

I felt my heart flutter but managed to keep my expression neutral. My hands went stiff at my sides when she spoke softly. "Thank you for letting me teach you."

"Thank you for staying back."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. But then, Serena turned back to the counter, and with a lingering blush, began to wipe it with my tablecloth.

Maybe this plan and night weren't so bad after all.