3 A.M. Baking
Illumine awoke at three in the morning to the smell of smoke and a sense of impending doom in their chest.
They knew the apartment was not on fire– not yet, anyways– but they wished it was. Anything would be better than knowing their roommate was in the kitchen, working toward getting aer heart broken in the wake of the Bakeoff. The tightness in their chest would prevent them from rolling over and going back to sleep, so they very slowly stood.
They left their bedroom, and headed down the hall. They tried to stay as quiet as possible, hoping that Ranshoseki might come to aer senses and finish before they could get there. This, of course, was in vain– as the kitchen came into view, they saw ae whisking something at a snail’s pace.
“I’m not sure what you’re doing,” Illumine began, “but I am certain you are doing it wrong.”
“I’m whipping the cream,” Ranshoseki replied, not turning aer intense gaze up.
“I don’t think you are,” Illumine replied. They stepped closer. “At such a languid pace, I hesitate to think you’re even whisking. You merely seem to be… well, at any rate, the motion you are doing is completely irrelevant to your desired goal.”
Ranshoseki nodded slowly, immediately giving away that ae was not following.
Illumine surveyed the state of the kitchen, vindicating their sense of dread. It seemed that, somehow, Ranshoseki had managed to use every single one of their shared dishes. Judging by the way the carton of whipping cream was laying on its side, Illumine also thought it safe to assume that ae had used all of that, too. Flour littered every surface, from the counters to the floor to the sink. Ranshoseki was not without a dusting, but what was more concerning were the bright orange stains on aer hands and clothes. Illumine did not need to ask what happened there-- they'd figured it out.
“What are you burning right now?” they demanded, suddenly noticing the wisps of smoke rising from the stove.
“Hm?”
“What are you burning, right now?”
“Nothing. I’m cooking pumpkin pie.”
Illumine didn't respond to Ranshoseki’s misuse of the word cooking and rushed toward the oven. A small wave of smoke poured out, bringing tears to their eyes and eliciting a few harsh coughs.
“How did that happen?” Ranshoseki asked, absolutely devastated that aer hard work was all for naught. Ae put the bowl down on the counter to start fanning the smoke. Ae didn't want to set off the fire alarm-- it was early! That would be inconsiderate.
Illumine used one arm to lean on the counter, and their other hand to cover their mouth and nose. They used a tentacle to pull open one of the drawers and grab a couple of potholders. While they waited for the smoke to clear, their eyes flicked to see how long their dear dumb roommate had set the timer for.
“Did you set the oven to five hundred degrees?!” they exclaimed.
“Well, the recipe said-”
“There is no way in all the Nine Hells the recipe indicated to set the oven that high.”
“Please don’t interrupt me. I was going to say that the recipe said three-seventy-five, but the pie should cook faster at a higher temperature.”
“You should-” Illumine cut themself off. Their instinct was to mock, but it was far, far too early to pick a fight. “No, Ranshoseki, that is… that is not how baking works. I am imploring you to please leave the kitchen.”
“My whipped cream is almost ready, though,” ae replied in a half-whine.
“I assure you it is not.”
Illumine leaned over and slowly pulled the charred remains of Ranshoseki’s pie from their infernal cavern of an oven. The thing had been in there so long that it had shrunk, leaving little pieces of black debris coating the edges of the pie tin. Knowing ae wasn’t going to clean it, Illumine decided then and there that they were just going to throw it out. Then hide the replacement.
“It’s all black,” Ranshoseki remarked, pure sadness lacing aer whisper of a voice.
“I hesitate to ask, but for how long did you set the timer?”
“I figured it would be done by the time I was finished with the whipped cream…”
Biting back a snarky remark, Illumine turned the wispy husk; the facsimile of pastry; the affront to the demons themselves into the garbage. The bottom of the pie somehow still had a bit of colour. Illumine dropped the tin immediately after seeing this.
“Wait- wait!”
“What?”
“Maybe we could salvage some!” Ranshoseki stepped forward. “Oh, it’s too late now.”
“It was too late forty-five minutes ago, when the pie had already been in the oven for an hour.” They rolled their eyes.
Ranshoseki sighed, completely disheartened.
“Look… why don’t we get some rest?” Illumine suggested. “Perhaps you can start looking into baking classes. Maybe some reading comprehension classes, too– that would benefit us both.”
Ae frowned. “I already know how to read.”
“...Nevertheless, it’s late. Tomorrow morning– well, later this morning, I suppose– you can scour the city for someone that will allow you to ruin their kitchen.”
They held a hand up, gesturing Ranshoseki towards the hall leading to both of their bedrooms. While ae headed to bed, Illumine closed the oven door and put the potholders away. They stared long and hard at the large bowl of cream, arguing internally about what to do with it. Finally, they decided that they would just deal with it when they woke up. There were no shortage of dishes for them to wash, anyways.
Illumine tried so hard to prevent Ranshoseki from using the kitchen. Now look.
Submitted By biinarysttars
for Baking Disaster
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Submitted: 1 year and 1 week ago ・
Last Updated: 1 year and 1 week ago