The clock on the wall ticked toward 7:30 p.m. Haru stood in Aya’s kitchen, sleeves rolled up, determination burning in her chest.“Okay, Haru,” she whispered to herself, clutching a rice paddle like a weapon. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough today. You’re going to make the perfect dinner to thank her for letting you stay. No screw-ups. No disasters.”The rice cooker beeped behind her, and she smiled in triumph. “See? Easy. Nothing to worry abo—”Sniff.Haru froze. What’s that smell?She spun around and her jaw dropped. Smoke was curling from the top of the rice cooker like a tiny volcano.“Oh no no no no—!” She rushed to unplug it, but the moment she lifted the lid, a puff of black steam smacked her in the face.“AHH!” Haru coughed, waving her hands wildly as smoke alarms blared overhead.And then—footsteps.The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Aya’s voice cut through the chaos. “What the hell—”Haru turned, eyes watering—and nearly passed out for a completely different reason.Aya stood in the doorway, a towel slung low around her hips and another draped over her shoulders, hair dripping wet and clinging to her neck. Her skin glistened, droplets sliding down toned arms, catching in the curve of her collarbone.Haru’s brain bluescreened.“I—uh—fire! I mean, smoke! I mean, not actual fire—” Haru babbled, arms flailing toward the smoking rice cooker.Aya’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in her sharp eyes. Without another word, she strode in, tugging the smoke alarm cord with one hand and flipping open the window with the other. Within seconds, the shrill ringing stopped, and fresh air flowed in.“Crisis averted.” Aya turned to Haru with a grin that spelled trouble. “So… the history teacher doesn’t know how to boil water?”Haru’s face ignited like a Christmas tree. “I—I do! Normally! This was just… an accident!”Aya snorted, padding toward her bedroom, towel still clinging precariously to her frame. “Sure, newbie. Let me guess—your last great battle was against instant noodles?”Haru puffed her cheeks. “Hey! I can make eggs too!”“Scrambled or cremated?” Aya called over her shoulder, laughter echoing down the hall.---Ten minutes later, the kitchen looked like a war zone: burnt rice clumps, water puddles, and one mortified Social Studies teacher. Aya reappeared in sweatpants and a loose tee, hair damp but no longer dripping.“Wow.” She surveyed the scene, hands on hips. “You weren’t kidding about accidents.”“I just wanted to make a nice dinner…” Haru muttered, staring at the charred remains of what used to be rice.Aya chuckled softly and grabbed a trash bag. “Move. I’ll help before you turn my kitchen into a crime scene.”Together, they tossed the ruined rice, wiped counters, and opened more windows. At some point, Aya put on music—soft jazz that filled the awkward silence with something warm.Haru found herself sneaking glances at Aya as they worked. The way her ponytail swayed when she leaned over, the casual strength in her arms as she scrubbed the pot… Aya moved with such confidence, like nothing could rattle her.Unlike Haru, who felt like a bumbling extra in her own life.“You okay there?” Aya’s voice snapped her out of her trance. “You’ve been spacing out for the last five minutes.”“I—uh—sorry,” Haru stammered, fumbling with the dish towel.Aya smirked but didn’t press further. Instead, she flicked a few droplets of water at Haru’s cheek. “Cheer up, newbie. It’s just rice, not the end of the world.”“I know,” Haru said softly. “But… I just wanted to do something right today. Everything’s been… overwhelming.”Aya’s teasing faded into something gentler. She leaned against the counter, arms folded, eyes warm. “First week’s always rough. New job, new faces, high expectations—it’s a lot.”Haru nodded, staring at the soapy water. “I keep thinking… what if I’m not cut out for this? Teaching, I mean. The kids deserve someone who knows what they’re doing.”Aya tilted her head, studying her for a moment before speaking. “You know what I saw today?”Haru blinked. “What?”“You, standing between two angry kids like a human shield, even though you were scared out of your mind.” Aya’s smile was soft now, almost proud. “That’s more than half the job. You care. The rest… you’ll figure out.”Warmth bloomed in Haru’s chest, unexpected and overwhelming. “Aya…”Aya shrugged, breaking the moment with a grin. “Besides, if you screw up, I’m here to bail you out. Perks of being your… what, temporary roommate? Life coach? Personal firefighter?”Haru laughed, the knot in her chest loosening. “Thank you. Really.”Aya winked. “Anytime.”---Later that night, Haru padded to the living room in her pajamas, clutching a glass of water. Aya was sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, the soft glow illuminating her sharp jawline.“Still awake?” Haru asked quietly.Aya glanced up, lips quirking. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d scroll until my brain shuts off.”Haru hesitated, then sat on the opposite end of the couch. For a while, they just listened to the low hum of the city outside the window. It felt… easy. Safer than she expected.Aya set her phone aside, stretching lazily. “Tomorrow, leave the cooking to me before we end up on the evening news.”Haru chuckled. “Deal.”They shared a smile—quiet, unspoken, like a thread weaving between them.Haru didn’t know why her heart felt so loud in that silence.---After Aya disappeared into the bathroom, Haru turned to grab her water—only for the door to creak open again. Aya stepped out, steam curling around her like a halo, wearing nothing but a towel.Haru froze, glass slipping from her fingers and landing with a dull thunk on the carpet.Aya arched a brow, completely unfazed. “Forgot my phone.” She brushed past Haru, droplets trailing down her bare shoulders, leaving Haru wide-eyed, cheeks burning, and a single thought screaming through her head:I’m doomed.
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