Chapter 2: The Kitchen is my Future Wife

Chapter 2: The Kitchen is My Future Wife.

October 6th, 2024 (Revamped April 13th 2025)

As Sayria ran, she ducked behind a building to catch her breath.

Sayria: “Damn it… this guy sure packs a punch. I can’t fight him now…”

The view cuts to a big-bodied guy snoring loudly by his window.

Big-bodied guy: “Zzz…”

Unbeknownst to him, an oven had been carelessly placed right behind him, dangerously close to the edge of the open window.

It rocked slightly… then more violently… and finally—

CRASH.

Scene switches to Amina and Harith, still chasing after Sayria.

Harith: “We’ve lost track of her…”

The two arrive right in front of the big guy’s building.

Amina: “H-Hey! Harith, watch out!”

She spots the falling oven just in time, shoving Harith to the side. Without hesitation, she extends her hand, summoning a light blue, glowing, minimized net that catches the oven mid-air—no harm done.

High above, the big-bodied guy jolts awake.

Big-bodied guy: “NO! MY OVEN! I SPENT A FORTUNE ON THAT!”

He leans out of his window, wide-eyed.

Big-bodied guy: “Wait… is that…? Amina?!”

Without warning, he leaps out of the window.

Harith: “…What? I think the perfect word for this is ‘It’s raining ovens and humans.’”

Amina lets out a chuckle.

Amina: “Well, don’t worry about him. Just watch what he’ll do…”

As the guy falls, he forms a massive cushion of pure dough from his hands and lands on it safely.

Harith: “What the hell…?”

The man immediately runs over and vigorously shakes Amina’s hand.

Big-bodied guy: “Thank you so much, Amina!”

Amina giggles.

Amina: “Just don’t place your oven near your window next time…”

Harith: “Yo, Amina? Do you know this guy?”

Amina: “Yeah, actually! This guy’s called Tariq Al Khazna. And he just ADORES cooking.”

Tariq reaches out and shakes Harith’s hand with his large mitts.

Tariq: “Nice to meet you! Harith, Amina keeps talking about you—it’s great to finally meet you in person!”

…Talking about me?! In a good or a bad way?!

Tariq: “Say, guys? Why don’t you come to my house? I’d love to treat you to dinner—especially since Amina saved my precious oven.”

Harith: “Y-Yeah… Let’s go.”

Tariq leads them to his apartment. It’s a two-story house.

The moment they step in, Harith’s eyes go wide. The entire first floor is filled—wall to wall—with kitchen appliances and gear.

Harith: “WHAT?! My guy, you live in a two-story kitchen?! What’s even on the second floor if your oven fell from there?”

Tariq bursts into hearty laughter.

Tariq: “Good question! The first floor’s for cooking. The second’s for baked goods and sweets!”

In the background, Amina tries sneakily to grab a bite of food.

Harith: “Damn… you literally live in a kitchen. Is cooking even that good?!”

Suddenly, Tariq places a finger over Harith’s lips.

Tariq: “Shh… Cooking is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He turns to Amina, who’s pretending she hasn’t taken anything.

Tariq: “I know exactly what you’ve stolen, Amina. Three small pieces of fried chicken and EXACTLY 183 grams of honey.”

Harith and Amina are both stunned by his precision.

Harith: “W-Wait… how did you…”

Tariq laughs proudly.

Tariq: “HAHAHA! Now, both of you, sit tight while I prepare a good lil’ meal for y’all.”

Harith: “Where can you even sit in a place like this…?”

He glances around, finds a random oven among the many, and plops down on it.

Harith glances up at Amina.

Harith: “Yo, Amina. When did you meet this guy?”

Amina’s munching on a piece of chicken from the counter.

Amina: “Well… you see—”

Suddenly, Tariq yells from the kitchen.

Tariq: “HEY! I KNOW DAMN WELL YOU’RE HUNGRY. JUST GIVE ME 30 MINUTES AND I’LL MAKE Y’ALL FOOD THAT’LL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!”

Amina and Harith exchange a look.

Both: “…Maybe you should stop eating, or he’ll ban you from food permanently.”

Amina nods with her mouth still full.

Amina: “Uh huh…”

She swallows.

Amina: “So anyway, I’ll tell you.”

⸻

Flashback begins

Amina: “One day, I was sitting behind a rock because I stole a sandwich from a nearby bakery.”

Harith: “You steal?! I thought you said you’d never steal, even if you were starving?!”

Amina: “Come on, Harith… Everyone says stuff like that to sound heroic. Just think about it. Anyway…”

Amina: “So I sat behind a rock, made sure no one was watching, and just as I was about to take a bite—”

Suddenly, a big-bodied man appears out of nowhere—upside down—on the rock, snatching the sandwich from her hands.

Tariq: “Hmmm, you know… stealing’s no good. Say, wanna try eating at my place? I’ve made a new dish that actually gives people abilities.”

Amina blinks, shocked.

Amina: “Hmm… And why should I trust a big-bodied guy like you? You sound like Bigfoot if he was human.”

Tariq’s face sinks.

Tariq: “Fine, then… Guess you don’t want free food. Not to mention—”

He pulls a golden medal from his chef attire and shows it off.

Amina examines it, unimpressed.

Amina: “Well… I am really hungry, so show me what you got. And I honestly don’t care about your medals, dude.”

Tariq: “Hey! I was just trying to show you I’m an excellent chef!”

Though slightly hurt, he lets it go, helps her off the ground, and leads her to his house.

As they walk inside, Amina’s eyes widen at the sight.

Amina: “Goodness gracious! How does someone even afford this much kitchen gear?!”

Tariq: “Hehe! I think I love the kitchen just a lil’ bit.”

Amina: “Hold up… A lil’ bit? What would’ve happened if you loved the kitchen more than that?!”

Tariq: “Just a joke! Here you go.”

He places a plate before her, revealing a sandwich glowing with a mysterious blue light.

Amina: “Wait… what is that blue light?”

Tariq: “That’s the new ingredient I’m testing.”

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching her reaction.

Amina: “Dude… is that even safe? I’m not your test rat, you know!”

Tariq: “Haha. Don’t worry—it’s 100% safe.”

Amina: “Well, here goes nothing, I guess…”

She hesitantly bites into the sandwich. Her eyes widen as her entire face lights up.

Amina: “I’ll be damned. This sandwich is the word ‘Amazing’ if it were food.”

Tariq calmly wipes a cup with a cloth, used to this kind of reaction.

Tariq: “What? No ‘Thank you’?”

Amina: “Huh? Totally not. I bet you hear this every day.”

Tariq: “Exactly. My job is making food and selling it. Think of me as a one-man restaurant—that’s why my house is loaded with appliances.”

Amina: “That’s impressive… And I assume you have lots of customers?”

Tariq frowns.

Tariq: “Not really. Not many people know about me. They’d rather eat cheap street food…”

He slams the cup on the counter.

Tariq: “And when I try advertising, people think I sell dog meat! It’s not! It’s 100% Halal—whatever you order, I’ll cook it on the spot!”

Amina: “So… how’d you afford all this stuff?”

Tariq: “I used to work at a famous restaurant. Didn’t feel worthy working for them. Eventually, I saved enough to buy the basics and start my own business. The rest—”

He gestures at the kitchen.

Tariq: “—came from the success I built.”

Tariq: “What I’m saying is, I’m already successful. Business is just down right now.”

Amina: “H-How could you afford all of this if—”

Tariq: “Look, don’t envy me. Just say Mashallah, will you?”

(Mashallah is a term used in Arabic to prevent envy toward someone’s blessings or achievements.)

Amina: “Oh yeah… My bad.”

Tariq: “You still didn’t say it, though.”

Amina: “Ugh… Whatever. Mashallah.”

Tariq: “Now that’s what I like to hear!”

Tariq: “Keep in mind… I don’t cook for money or praise. It’s just how I make a living. I cook because I love it. Otherwise, I would’ve never chosen this career.”

He beams proudly. Amina, on the other hand, looks bored and annoyed.

(Man… will this guy ever stop praising himself?)

Amina: “But yo… you said I’d get some ability from this sandwich? All I got was a blessing to my tastebuds.”

Tariq: “Oh yeah, about that. You’ll wake up tomorrow with a Disposition.”

Tariq: “It’s an ability that awakens when you consume a special powder. In this case, it’s called Banjo. (Marijuana.)”

Amina: “Wait… did you just feed me a damn drug?!”

She panics, fearing addiction—or worse, turning into some idiot.

Tariq: “Hey, relax! It’s not a bad drug… Though it’s illegal, because people might misuse their abilities. But don’t worry. I know you’re a good person deep down.”

She blushes slightly, quickly shaking it off.

Amina: “Uh… go on.”

Tariq: “A Disposition is a power that comes from your love for something. An item, an emotion, even a hobby. Like me—I love cooking, so my ability reflects that.”

Tariq: “But it can also come from something you hate. That’s called a Hate Disposition.”

Amina: “Wait, why’s that bad?”

Tariq: “Because hate dispositions are stronger and more destructive. You hate the ability, you have no control, and you suffer emotionally. It’s like a punishment you’re forced to carry.”

Amina: “So stronger doesn’t always mean better?”

Tariq: “Pretty much sums it all up.”

She looks around and notices a red “4 AM” marked on a wall schedule.

Amina: “You said you’re like a full restaurant? And you have an order at 4 AM?”

Tariq: “Dang it! Thanks for reminding me! I’ll get to work. You can head out now.”

Amina: “Hold on! You didn’t say when I’ll get my ability?!”

Tariq: “Yeah, next time you sleep and wake up—you’ll have it.”

⸻

Flashback ends

Amina: “And yeah… I pretty much woke up from a nap and got my Disposition.”

She forms a small, translucent blue blade from her palm.

Snores…

Amina looks up, pondering.

Amina: “But Harith, it’s kinda weird how he did all that for me when we were just complete strangers…”

She glances over at Harith—who’s been asleep the whole time.

Amina: “YOU… HEY!”

She knees him awake.

Harith: “OW! What was that for?!”

Amina: “Were you even listening to my story about Tariq?!”

Harith starts sweating.

Harith: “Uhhhh… You said you married him or something?”

Amina falls out of her chair.

Just then, Tariq walks up to the table to serve the food. But before he can place the plates down—

BOOM!

A loud impact shakes the back of the house.

All three: “!!!”