CHAPTER 1

When I was little, I wanted to be the number one baker in the world. Mom always encouraged me to follow my dream, but she always reminded me to be realistic with my goals. If I want to be number one, set it to number five instead. I rejected mom’s way of thinking. To me, it’s better to think that I’m already number five striving to be number one. That way, I won’t feel like a failure that doesn’t know where to begin. I’m number five. That means that I have a starting point on where I should go and what to improve. Mom never disapproved of my philosophy. In fact, she encouraged it. I’m thankful to her for that.

In order to become number one, I need to be active instead of passive. I need to learn everything I need in order to achieve it! Measuring ingredients correctly, understanding baking chemistry, mixing techniques, time management... what else? The internet got me covered! If I don’t know something, I ask! If I got anything wrong, I ask! The answers will present themselves to me.

Despite all that, this life taught me that I need to be passive too. I can actively bake, promote, advertise, and sell my pastries, but I have to passively wait for customers to come. The world has its own checks and balances to ensure that both active and passive coexist with each other. Even my bread will passively rise as mom’s oven bake it. It’s a shame that I can’t have any magic that can bake a cake in an instant. That would be my number one magic if it ever existed.

Lately, we receive a peculiar customer. He will always come to the store with dirty hands. Whenever mom is the cashier, he will always pay with cards. When I’m the cashier, he will always pay with cash. I have to take the dirty cash from him. What’s worse, he will also give me coins so that he can touch my fingers. Sometimes, I can see him grinning after paying. I have to scrub my hands and the money clean before continuing my job. Otherwise, other customers will complain that our bakery is dirty. I told about it to mom several times. At first, we agreed that whenever he comes, mom and I will shift our roles so that mom can be the cashier. It worked at first, but somehow, he figured out our tricks! He keeps paying with cash now even if mom is the cashier. Other customers also started to avoid him. They’ll avoid whatever aisle he had been because they don’t want his unhygienic germs to spread to them. We can’ take it anymore. We’ve done everything we can to refuse servicing him, but nothing worked. We even lodged a police report. Nothing happened from it.

Today, he comes to the store as usual. Other customers avoid him as usual. He picks cinnamon bread as usual. He seems to be… excited? That’s unusual. What is wrong with him?! If I can have any magic right now besides baking magic, I want a magic to send him to die alone on the moon. Every inch of my body feels icky seeing him like this.

He pays with cash as usual. However, there is something strange among the coins. It’s still a circle, but there’s a large empty spot in the middle.

A ring.

Is this a joke? In his own fantasy land, is this a romantic gesture to me? Eww! The ring is dirty! I don’t want it! Why did he put it on my hand?

“Will you go out with me?”

I want to throw a fridge at him. I don’t care whether I can do it or not, but at this point, I feel like my life isn’t complete without seeing him splat under something heavy.

Take a deep breath. Exhale. Be polite. Don’t cause a scene. There are other customers in the bakery right now. Furthermore, I have a few utensils around me that I can use to defend myself. A tong might not be sharp, but if positioned correctly, it can hurt the eye.

“I am sorry, but I’m taken.”

That’s a complete lie, but if that’ll push him away, anything goes!

Suddenly, he takes the ring. Then he pulls my left hand. I try to pull my hand away but he keeps trying to shove the ring into my left ring finger. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

I stab his left eye with a tong. Two customers come to my rescue. Took them long enough! The weird guy runs away. He succeeded at putting his ring on my ring finger. I can feel vermin crawls all over my left hand. I throw the ring into the trash can. I scrub my hand so hard that I accidentally peel my skin. Whatever he had, he tainted me with it. I feel unclean. I’m infected with his insanity. I want to take a bath.

Mom lets me go home to take the day off. I’m thankful that my mom is my mom. I don’t what I would do if I’m all alone in the shop. Our home is just a few hundred meters away. There is no shortcut to take. The path is also clean, clear, and filled with pedestrians walking around. There’s no room for him to ambush me.

I reach the front door of my house. Just in case, I look left and right to see if he’s around. There are no hidden corners for him to hide. I should be able to see him if he tried it. So far, nothing. No one is around. Good.

The first thing I do after I got inside my house is to lock the front door. So far so good. I’ve taken all the precautions that I can think of. At least in this house, I can relax. Time to take a bath.

I go to my room to pick up my towels. As I walk, I hear a footstep. No! No no no no! He’s rummaging my wardrobe! I need to get out! I need to call the police! Somebody! Help me!

I reach the front door. I open it. Before I can scream for help, a dirty hand covers my mouth.