Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sweet snow scattered over the dark chocolate log garnished with holly leaves and meringue mushrooms, turning it all white. The snow fall moved on to the next confection and sprinkled more of its sugary flakes on the creamy crust. It did so until all the cakes were covered and it looked like a blizzard had blown its way into the kitchen.
The pastry chef put the sieve down and smiled. Yule logs had always been a favourite dessert of his, and it had been one of the few things that had him look forward to the Winter Holidays every year. As a boy, he had found quite unfair the treat could not be eaten on any other day but that on which the White Fair was held, and had often asked for it as a birthday cake, a request his mother would kindly dismiss. "The Fair spirit is what makes it special."
And of course, she had been right.
Sort of.
After the opening of his bakery, Jungkook had tried to sell the log-shaped sponge dessert on different occasions, such as the First Blooms, the Summer Showers, Harvest Fest and the likes, colouring his confections to match the season's hues. And even if buyers never lacked, there was something almost magical about the frosty log that made it, indeed, special.
And special treats deserved special treatments. So he covered each cake with a glass dome before storing them away. He made sure to leave a piece of freshly baked brioche on a plate in the middle of the countertop, and switched off the lights, trusting it would be enough to keep them happy.
As it turned out, it wasn't.
The following morning was the day of the White Fair. The merriest day of the year if you were to ask him. But not today, no. Not when his shoes scrunched on the floor covered with shards. Not when his gaze beheld the storm that had wreaked havoc in his kitchen which presently looked more like a pastry graveyard than anything else.
Except it was no storm.
His windows were intact. And he had had a wonderful night's sleep. Surely a blizzard would have woken him up.
"YOU!" he yelled into the void, fists tight and face livid. Anger bubbled in his chest briefly before weariness took over. There was nothing to be resentful toward. No one to scold but himself for signing that lease with full knowledge of the fact that he had to share this place with a bloody poltergeist.
And not just any ghost mind you. One that apparently has strong feelings about the end-of-year festivities.
He recalled the first morning when he had found all his cookies crunched on the floor. He'd asked around for counsel, but neighbours confirmed his suspicions.
"If there were something to be done, don't you think it would have been taken care of already?"
"Poor soul. Bound to this place for all eternity."
"Keep them happy. Leave food out every evening. It should appease them for the night at least."
This had been the most helpful advice which, against all odds, had worked. Until today.
"I cannot do this any longer," he muttered between two sobs, which was a bit of a lie because he somehow found it in him to bake one final log with the few ingredients he had left. He wasn't sure why, but he strongly felt it had to be done.
If this were to be the last cake he'd ever make, then he would give it his all. He sprinkled his fondest memories of the joyful holidays over the dough, along with his love of all things sweet and creamy and frosty. He pondered on the word Spirit his mother would use to describe this particular season. And in truth, it was somewhat of a miracle, how the coldest weather brought out the warmth and kindness in people. Perhaps it was the universe's way to keep its balance, he thought.
"I don't know what you are, nor what you went through in life that makes you do what you did. But I believe everyone deserves a White Cake on Fair day," Jungkook said when he placed his final offering on the table.
He then cleaned up the place and walked out into the bustling street without looking back.
Inside, sugar powder fell from the ceiling, covering every surface with its sweet flakes.
When Jungkook returned, sometime in the middle of the night, tipsy from the ale he attempted to drown his sorrow into, he went straight to bed.
He woke up the next day with a lingering warmth all over his face. Tendrils of dreams twirled behind his tired eyelids. Recalling the hallucinations that chased him till morning, he vowed never to drink that festive brew again.
Visions of a young man shrouded in smoke, coughing his lungs out, tore through his heart. "Was it you," he heard himself ask out loud.
The answer fell from above, in floating ashes. The boy had been baking when the woodpile by the oven had caught on fire. The crisp air had allowed it to spread at a frighteningly brisk rate, trapping him within the growing blaze.
"I'm so sorry," was all Jungkook could murmur, "I had no idea." Silent tears damped his heated cheeks as he stumbled out of bed, down the stairs and into the frosted kitchen. His eyes caught sight of words traced on the powdery surface of his wooden counter.
Please don't leave.
A choked chuckle broke the gauzy silence. "I won't. On one condition."
Sweet flakes dusted his nose and eyelashes and Jungkook couldn't hold back his giggles. "It's a yes, then."
The spirit stayed true to the deal they had clinched that morning, frosting the chocolate logs with his sugared snowflakes which, Jungkook swore, were nothing less than the very soul of the White Fair Day, crystallized.
Besides, all his clients agreed.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Just something I wrote last year for your discord server's flash fic competition and which I am very late to share here. (This is an edited version.)
