INT. CLASSROOM – NEXT DAY
To Ice, today felt like every other dull day—perhaps worse. No student council meetings to distract him, and now stuck in a cooking lab with the one person he least wanted to talk to. Great.
He sighed internally, glancing sideways at his project partner.
Solo. That's how I've always done things. Efficient. Quiet. Predictable. But now? Partnered with… her? Of all people.
He stared at Fire, baffled and borderline offended. How is she even in this class? She looks like a first-year who got lost. Fashion design, wasn't it? And she doesn't even know the curriculum. Did she get in through connections? A recommendation? Maybe she's a nepo baby or something. The thought simmered in his chest.
He was so lost in his internal grumbling that he didn't notice Fire had been talking to him—until she leaned in, her face suddenly close, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Hey, are you even listening to me?"
Startled, Ice jerked back, blinking. Her closeness threw him off for half a second before he turned his head to avoid her gaze.
Fire tilted her head, clearly confused by his reaction. But instead of teasing him, she simply stared, waiting for a response.
His irritation softened slightly—not because of her—but because she reminded him of someone.
Kea. His little sister's smile flashed through his mind. Naive, trusting, endlessly kind. Just like this girl. And Kea was overseas, studying alone, no big brother to scare off shady classmates. The thought struck a nerve. What if she was as clueless as Fire? What if someone took advantage of that? I'll convince her again about the self defense class.
"Ice!" Fire called again. This time louder.
He blinked back to reality. Some classmates were watching now, probably amused by the scene. But Fire hadn't noticed them—she was still focused entirely on him.
He didn't even hear her question.
"Do what you want," he muttered, standing. "I don't care."
With that, he walked off, not looking back once.
LATER – INT. CLASSROOM – 5:00 PM
The bell rang, echoing down the halls. Most of the class had already left, laughter and chatter trailing behind them. Fire sat at her desk, her eyes on the paper in her hand, fingers gently tracing the words:
Pineapple Upside-Down Cake.
She smiled to herself. It's cute, it's colorful… and hopefully not too hard to make. Ms. Murasaki had even smiled at her submission—Fire's heart fluttered remembering that rare moment of approval.
"One person left to convince," she muttered under her breath, glancing at the empty seat next to hers. Ice.
Just then, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
"Hey, Fyre!" Oriel called, waving cheerfully as she made her way over. Her energy was as bright as always.
"Hey, Oriel!" Fire smiled, grateful for the friendly face. "Did you finalize your theme?"
"Yup!" Oriel beamed, glancing behind her. "Dhylan and I are going with a caramel tart!"
Fire smiled but blinked when she noticed Dhylan wasn't nearby. "Where is he?"
"He got called to help one of the professors." She gave a small shrug.
"Oh, I see. Are you heading home now?"
Oriel shook her head. "We stay at the campus dorm, remember? It's super close." She grinned. "You should consider it next semester! It's fun having roommates and there's always food!"
Fire's eyes widened. "There's a girls' dorm?! I didn't even know!"
"Yup! You'd love it," Oriel giggled.
INT. UNIVERSITY LAB ROOM 144 – THE NEXT DAY
"This is the third time. Can you please focus?"
Ice's voice was low, controlled—but the frustration beneath it was crystal clear.
"Sorry, my manager called." Fire set her phone down quickly. "I'll be more careful this time," she said, though irritation prickled at the edge of her words. Seriously? I said I'm sorry.
Baking, she quickly learned, was not the same as regular cooking. Not even close. She'd picked the cake out of excitement, not knowing it would turn into a full-on chemistry exam. Still, she couldn't blame Ice—he had let her choose.
"I don't care," Ice said coldly. "You've already wasted enough ingredients. If you mess it up again, I'll file a complaint with the professor."
Fire winced as he walked back to his side of the counter, muttering something under his breath.
He's so mean!
Determined, Fire tightened her apron and restarted the process. Mixing, measuring, and trying not to cry.
Food tastes better when made with love, right? she told herself, forcing a smile as she hummed softly.
Across the counter, Ice rubbed his temples. He hadn't expected this much chaos. He walked over to check something—and froze.
"Hey!" he called.
Fire jumped, startled.
"You're mixing it in different directions. You're messing up the airflow. The texture's going to collapse."
He grabbed the bowl from her, holding it like it was sacred. Then he began demonstrating.
"Like this. One direction only. Don't treat it like pancake batter!"
"Eh?" Fire blinked, eyes wide with confusion.
Ice groaned, exasperated. "Do you even understand what aeration is?"
She stared. "...Is that a Pokémon?"
Ice looked like he was going to implode.
I'm doomed, Fire thought.
She's hopeless, Ice thought.