I’m Noda Sagiri, 20 years old.
If I cook curry, it turns into a chemical disaster, if I mend clothes, they become stained with blood, if I do the cleaning, it turns into mass destruction — and now, I’m trying to improve my womanly skills to fix the lack of my 20 years of boyfriend-less life history.
Now, even I have just one special skill.
My mother, owner of a pastry shop, approves of my sweets.
Although all my other cooking results in murder weapons, I’m a professional at making sweets. Even though I cause explosions whenever I cook rice or fry vegetables, I have absolutely no problem with sweets.
My family wracks their heads over why this is so, but even I don’t understand the reason.
Yesterday, I made cookies.
Perfectly made from start to the end, they melted in your mouth with a fluttery feeling.
Since I coated them with chocolate, I used less granulated sugar than usual, but in an impeccable distribution.
I wanted to let someone taste what I’d skillfully made, but unfortunately my parents were on a trip with friends.
So I decided to mix them into the refreshments for a karate club I’m in.
Once, I almost killed the club members when we were at a training camp with my stew, and since then nobody tries my food.
I’m not even allowed in the kitchen, I’m told again and again that I have to wait quietly until the food is ready.
If I told them I’d made the cookie, they’d either bolted away immediately, or give it to an animal for poison testing.
After using some cute wrapping paper, I wrote ‘Eat me please!’ on a card in a round, cutesy handwriting and slipped it into the refreshments.
It was only meant to be a little bit of fun then, I never thought the consequences would be so big.
There were two big celebrities in our karate club.
The first was the captain, Arioka Tsurugi.
Although he was just medium-built and cute, he was one of the best at karate in the whole country, as well as popular among older women.
The second person was Michel François, a Frenchman crazy about Japan.
He longed to learn karate, Japan’s specialty, so he joined the karate club but his actual skill was nil.
With his blond hair and blue eyes, he looked like a prince, and he was the most popular person at school.
We circle members would always share their refreshments.
And on top of that, Michel grabbed a cookie I’d plopped in there, murmuring, 「I’m hungry,」 and took a bite.
Even as I looked innocently at him, I was trembling on the inside, awaiting his reaction.
Michel ate a mouthful, and then froze.
He covered his mouth with a hand, staring into space.
「Wh-what happened, Michel…? Did it taste bad?」
And then, Michel burst out crying like a waterfall.
I was hoping earlier that he’d say it was tasty, but now I was shocked.
「This… This cookie tastes just like.. The ones Maman used to make…」
Michel started eating it again while in tears.
From the side, the other members reached in and started eating the cookies. 「Woah! Tasty, isn’t it?」 I sighed a hidden breath of relief at their praise.
「These are mine! Please don’t eat them!」
Michel was booed by the members as he cradled the cookies close to his chest.
「Don’t be so stingy, those cookies taste really good!」
「These are all mine! These are cookies that Maman made for me from the other side of the sky!」
「Maman from the other side of the sky… So Michel’s mother has died, huh…?」
「Please don’t say such ominous things. My mother is in France.」
「So that’s what he meant by the other side of the sky!」
Michel had a monopoly on the cookies, and the others wanted them as well. The small clubroom shook as the members scrambled for it, many things falling to the floor with a thud.
Even as I tried to control them, the struggle for the cookies wouldn’t stop. Well-built boys pushed and struggled against each other in a sweaty, ugly spectacle.
「Sagiri-san! Just who made these cookies?」 Michel asked me as he defended the cookies to the last.
「H-huh? I… I don’t know,」 I lied, averting my eyes from Michel’s desperate face, 「I just noticed there were here…」
「These cookies have the same taste as the ones Maman would make for me. I want to get to know the person who made them!」
Prince-like Michel hugged the cookies, looking entranced as if he was in a dream. 「No doubt the girl who made them is as beautiful as Maman, kind lady, soft and fluttery like pastries! I request to get to know the person who made these!」
「…Well, look… I don’t know who sent them.. So..」
「What about the card?」
To amuse themselves, the club members started searching for clues as to who the maker could be.
There was nothing on the card that might reveal who the person was.
「This girl must have light, fluttery flaxen hair…」
Unfortunately, I have short black hair.
「She’s charming like a noblewoman, and cute…」
No, unfortunately, I’m a boyish girl wearing a typical T-shirt and jeans.
「She loves things like butterflies and flowers, and she has a gentle heart…」
If you mean bug catching, that’s my specialty.
「She loves being around family, and she is the ideal girl!」
I turn into a terrorist if you make me do house chores!
「I will search for the girl who made this cookie! Then I will ask to get to know her and speak to her! Everyone, please cooperate!」
「Yeah!」 exclaimed the club members, getting all roused up.
They acted quickly, saying, 「First let’s upload this info to the school site!」
With a picture of the cookie attached, they uploaded it..
As the tension grew and grew, none of the excited members noticed me, standing there in the corner of the clubroom, my face twitching.
This wasn’t supposed to happen and yet… What do I do…?
That day, the search party for the baker of the cookies was formed.
「Perfect, if it turns out to be a cute girl we gotta talk to the manager and invite her here!」
「I know, right!」
What do I do?
I had never thought such a riot would start over just some cookies.