Welcome to Heaven | ✓

05: Blueberry Waffles (Mastered)

"Blueberry waffles? You're kidding."

Even after the morning had changed to dusk, Koyuki still wasn't letting it go. We stood in the second year's home economics room, the source of all this madness rested back on a plate on the table.

Koyuki leaned forward, staring at the mess of 'waffles,' face scrunched from disgust. It was a look of mass disbelief, as if he'd lost all faith in humanity just by staring at what I'd conjured up.

"I get it. They're burnt," I huffed, locking my arms over each other. "Stop making me feel bad already."

To save me from my mortification, Koyuki reeled away from the table. Setting his hand to his hip, he let out a breath and properly raked me over with his eyes.

"Sakurauchi, is this the first time she's burnt waffles?"

"Nope," Miko was quick to respond. "Kotori possesses no skill in the kitchen whatsoever."

"I see." The next look he shot me was back to being demoralizing, making me jolt. "And you're telling me this mess of a person actually wants to become a pastry chef?"

I pursed my lips. "Do you have a problem with that or something?"

"Not really," he said. "Just, as someone who used to dream the same thing, I must say I'm disappointed."

Surprise painted both mine and Miko's faces. Animated stars filled my eyes.

"You wanted to become a pastry chef, Tamura?" Miko demanded.

"This is why we'd be the perfect team!" I cried, racing toward him whilst beaming from ear to ear.

A warm blush pooled from his cheeks as if realizing what he'd confessed to, and what it had done to excite me. "As I said, that was the me of the past. I gave up that aspiration a long time ago."

The dazzled look of mine faded. More so, when he rotated to avoid staring at Miko and me.

"I used to put in hours upon hours all my life baking to reach that goal. And whenever I messed up I'd start over from scratch. I really cost my parents a lot of money, but I loved doing it. Especially when it came out of the oven in perfect shape—I got all excited like any kid would."

"I bet that kid who loved the idea of being a pastry chef is still inside you now!" I said, my own means of excitement washing over me.

"Even if he is," he said, directing a frown over his shoulder, "I'm not pursuing that career anymore. Sure I did dream of it once, but what kid doesn't hold unrealistic dreams? I loved the idea of it, but I didn't consider what exactly it entailed. You can't get by with passion alone. Your waffles and I bet whatever other pastry you've made in your life, is proof of that."

All joy within me dissolved altogether.

"You can't bake, and yet you want to start up a 'Baking Society'?" he mocked, gesturing to my waffles for emphasis. "There has to be a limit to how idiotic someone is."

Miko placed her hand on my arm, rising to her feet. "Kotori tries really hard every day—"

"You're right."

Koyuki and Miko froze at my booming declaration.

"I can't bake," I went on. "Becoming a pastry chef is impossible for me."

The silence that loomed through, the heaviness weighing down on my chest, the stinging tears prickling the corners of my eyes; deep down, I'd always known his words were true. I'd heard them too many times. From Okito, Miko, my mom and brother. Even countless other relatives who I'd attempted shoving my desserts down their throats. Nevertheless...