@LittlePoopOfficial

I watched as Fujita-sensei directed half the class to hunt for materials to patch up the broken windows. My eyes drifted to Kurumi, who was already tying an apron around her waist with determination written across her face. Oh no.

"I'll handle the main course!"

"Nope." I snatched the apron strings from her hands. "You're sitting this one out."

"But Ryū-chan! I've been practicing! I made curry just last week-"

I grabbed her shoulders, steering her toward a chair. "I'm not letting you poison what's left of our class."

"Meanie!" She pouted but plopped down anyway. "I just wanted to cook with Sae-san..."

Speaking of Sae, she was methodically checking the industrial fridge, making mental notes of its contents. Her balloon/kaiju partner bobbed near the ceiling, seemingly fascinated by the ventilation fans.

"We've got basics," Sae reported. "Vegetables, some meat, dairy products. Nothing's spoiled yet."

Toukawa-san leaned against a counter, looking bored. "Can't we just make rice balls or something? Quick and simple."

"What? No way!" Kurumi shot up from her chair. I pushed her back down. "We finally have the whole kitchen to ourselves! We can't waste this chance on boring cafeteria food!"

I hate to admit it, but Kurumi had a point. After weeks of curry and dried-out fish, the idea of making something actually good was tempting. My eyes wander to the massive industrial oven squatting in the corner.

"Pizza. We should make pizza."

"Oh?" Sae raised an eyebrow. "You know how?"

"Well, when you're understaffed at KaiKool, you pick up a few tricks."

I turned to Sae and Toukawa-san. "You two, grab the tomatoes and start dicing. We need them crushed for the sauce." I paused, eyeing Toukawa-san's reluctant expression. "Unless you'd rather eat whatever Kurumi makes?"

Toukawa-san's eyes widened slightly. She grabbed a knife and cutting board. "Suddenly I'm feeling helpful."

The familiar weight of flour hit my hands as I measured ingredients for the dough. Working at KaiKool might've been hell, but at least I learned something useful. The movements came naturally - mix, knead, fold. The dough slowly came together under my fingers.

"Watch the salt," I called out as Toukawa-san started on the sauce. "And don't let Kurumi help, even if she begs."

"I can hear you!" Kurumi shouted from her timeout corner.

I smiled despite myself. The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping, mixing, and Kurumi's running commentary about how she'd "definitely improved" since last time. Even Little Shit got into the spirit, gnawing at the tomatoes until Sae confiscated them.

This almost felt normal. Just another busy day at work, not the end of the world as we knew it.

A chair scraped closer. I glanced sideways. Kurumi had scooted right up to the counter, watching me with that intense look she got when she was about to say something weird.

"What?"

"Nothing." She propped her chin on her hands. "You look happy."

I snorted. "Happy making pizza for our post-apocalyptic lunch club?"

"No, I mean-" She waved her hands at the kitchen. "This. You always said KaiKool was just a paycheck, but..."

"But what?"

"…You still planning to go to Tokyo?

My hands stopped mid-knead. "Of course I do." The words came automatically, but something made me hesitate.

I shook my head hard. What was I thinking? One afternoon doesn't change anything.

"Stop asking weird questions out of nowhere." I flicked flour at Kurumi's face, leaving a white streak across her nose.

She squeaked, going cross-eyed trying to see the flour on her face. "You really are a meanie, Ryū-chan!"

"If you're that bored, go make yourself useful and watch Little Shit." I waved Kurumi away.

"Fine, fine." Kurumi slid off her chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Come here, you little menace!"

Finally, some peace. The kitchen settled into a steady rhythm - Little Shit squeaking, Kurumi cursing as he evaded her. The dough stretched smooth under my hands, thin in the middle, puffy at the edges. Perfection.

Money might've pushed me into food service, but there was something satisfying about watching ingredients come together. Not that I'd ever admit that to Kurumi or anyone else for that matter.

"Pass the cheese." I held out my hand to Toukawa-san, who slid the container over without looking up from her perfectly aligned pepperoni.

Sae slid the completed pizza inside and shut the oven door before reaching for the dial. "Temperature's preset to-"

"Wait." An idea clicked. "Kurumi! Bring Little Shit back!"

She bounded in seconds later, Little Shit perched on her head, his eyes spinning in opposite directions as usual. I scooped him up and placed him inside the cold oven, right next to our masterpiece.

"Remember what you did with that Furnace Kaiju?"

Little Shit squeaked, tilting his head.

"Like this." I flicked his nose. His eyes crossed, then uncrossed. A tiny volcano sprouted around him, filling the oven with perfect pizza-baking heat.

"That's... actually kind of ingenious," Toukawa-san admitted.

"Learned from the best. Gran Gran's been using him to heat bath water."

The oven timer beeped, breaking the quiet anticipation. The rich aroma of melted cheese and herbs filled the kitchen as I opened the oven door. A wave of steam hit my face, and for a moment, I was eight years old again, standing on tiptoes to peek over the kitchen counter as Dad opened the takeout box, revealing a hot, fresh pizza.

"Watch out kiddo, it's hot," he'd say, ruffling my hair. Back then, pizza night meant Dad was home between business trips. We'd sprawl on the floor with video game controllers tangled between us, greasy fingers fumbling over buttons as we played late into the night...

"Ryū-chan! That smells amazing!" Kurumi's voice yanked me back to reality.

I blinked away the memory and grabbed a pair of mitts. "Good work, Little Shit." I scooped him out first, and he preened at the praise.

The pizza slid perfectly onto the serving tray - golden brown crust, bubbling cheese, and surprisingly, not a single burnt spot. Take that, KaiKool's sad excuse for Italian food.

"Not bad for the end of the world," I muttered, carrying it to the center table. Sae was already waiting, pizza cutter in hand. Without a word, she carved it into perfect triangles (because of course she did).

Kurumi bounced to the hole in the wall. "4-B! PIZZA TIME!"

The rest of our class trudged in, covered in sawdust and looking like they'd fought a losing battle with the hardware store.

"This actually... looks good?" Fujita-sensei stared at his slice, mouth full. "Like, really good?"

Everyone had crowded around the table, pizza slices disappearing faster than Little Shit could make volcanoes. Even Toukawa-san went back for seconds, though she tried to hide it.

"Ryū-chan!" Kurumi bounced over, phone in hand. "We need to commemorate this! Everyone get together for a class photo!"

I rolled my eyes. "Really? Now?"

"Yes now! When else are we gonna commemorate our first class lunch?" She grabbed my arm, yanking me toward the group. "Little Shit too!"

Little Shit's tiny volcanic vents puffed steam in excitement.

"Pass." Toukawa-san started edging toward the door, but Kurumi's arm shot out, catching her sleeve.

"Nope! You helped make the pizza, you're in the photo!"

"I really don't-"

"Pleeeease?" Kurumi unleashed her ultimate weapon - puppy dog eyes cranked to maximum power. "Just one quick photo?"

"...Fine. One photo."

We crowded together, flour-covered and sweaty. Little Shit perched on my head, his tiny volcanic vents still smoking slightly. Sae stood completely straight until Kurumi elbowed her into a more natural pose.

"Say cheese!"

The camera flashed. Kurumi immediately hunched over her phone, thumbs flying.

"What are you doing?"

"Making Little Shit famous!" She turned the screen toward me. A new Chirper account, @LittlePoopOfficial, complete with our group photo. "You need money for Tokyo, right? If we get monetized, this could help!"

I started to argue but stopped. The photo caught my eye - all of us squeezed together, pizza ingredients scattered everywhere.

For a moment, I forgot about everything except this weird little group in our broken cafeteria.

If every day was like this... maybe I wouldn't mind staying in Shiba a little longer.

"Just don't post anything embarrassing."