[Third Person Pov]
Clark's next class was Home Economics. The moment he stepped into the bright, warmly lit room, the familiar scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and fresh flour greeted him. At each workstation, ingredients had already been neatly lined up: bowls of white sugar, sticks of butter, cartons of eggs, sacks of flour, and colorful measuring cups.
"As you can all see in front of you is everything you'll need for today's class," the Home Economics teacher announced cheerfully, gesturing with both hands toward the carefully arranged supplies. "Since we have a limited amount of ingredients, you'll be partnering up in teams of two. Choose wisely and work together—baking is all about cooperation!"
Clark immediately turned his head toward Komi, who was standing a few stations away. He opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to team up, but Lala was quicker. The energetic girl had already swooped in, linking arms with Komi and pulling her close with a triumphant grin. Komi blinked in surprise but offered Clark a small, apologetic smile. Lala, on the other hand, turned directly toward him, stuck her tongue out mischievously, and winked as if she had just claimed the ultimate prize.
Clark scoffed lightly, shaking his head in amusement. Before he could even process the playful defeat, he felt a gentle tug on the back of his shirt. He glanced over his shoulder and found Nino standing there, looking slightly hesitant. They shared this mismatched class together, and it seemed fate—or the teacher's pairing rules—had other plans for them.
"What?" Clark asked plainly, turning to face her with a raised eyebrow, his expression one of mild confusion.
Nino stared down at the tiled floor, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her uniform sleeve. She took a visible breath, mustering her courage before speaking softly. "Seeing as you don't have a partner yet… want to work together?"
Clark paused for a moment, his face remaining straight and impassive. "I don't know," he replied evenly. "I might be too inconsiderate to be a valuable partner."
Nino flinched visibly at his words, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She dropped her gaze even lower. "Forget I asked…" she muttered, already turning on her heel to walk away.
Clark watched her for a second, then spoke again, resting his chin on his fist in a casual pose. "…Why ask me when Yotsuba is right over there? Wouldn't you rather work with your sister?"
Nino froze mid-step. She opened and closed her palm at her side, clearly conflicted, before answering without turning around. "She's working with her friend…" It wasn't entirely honest—she motioned vaguely toward Yotsuba, who was already laughing and chatting animatedly with Osana Najimi at their shared station.
Clark rolled his eyes. "You know, a girl who can't be honest isn't exactly attractive."
Nino spun around sharply on her heel, glaring at him with fiery eyes as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Huh?! Who isn't attractive!? And who said I wasn't being honest? You can clearly see that Yotsuba is already pairing up with someone!"
"Oh, so you're just a massive loner then," Clark continued, nodding in mock understanding. "One who has no other friends and, as a last resort, has no other options but to come to me."
Nino's teeth ground together audibly as she continued glaring daggers at him, her frustration mounting. "Yotsuba was right… you are a hateful person."
Clark tilted his head slightly, a sarcastic smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know, you're surprisingly terrible at apologizing. And here I thought that was supposed to be my thing. Am I that bad of an influence that it rubbed off on you already?"
Nino's face turned a deeper shade of red. She waved him off dismissively and spun back around in a huff. "Forget you! I'll find a new partner and show you who the loner really is!"
Before she could storm off, Clark reached out and gently grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "Stop being such a brat," he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement. "Everyone already has a partner. You took too long, and now we don't have a choice."
"Don't blame this on me!" Nino shot back, growling under her breath as she yanked her arm free. "You were the one throwing jabs at me first. I was ready to walk away!"
"Whatever…" Clark sighed, finally relenting as he walked over to their shared station and grabbed one of the aprons hanging nearby. Nino followed suit, snatching the other apron with a bit more force than necessary. The two of them stood side-by-side at the workstation, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife, yet somehow inevitable.
Nino stood at their shared station, reaching awkwardly behind her back in an attempt to tie the strings of her apron. The fabric kept slipping through her fingers, and her frustration was starting to show in the slight furrow of her brow.
Clark approached her from behind without a word. "Give it here," he said calmly, taking hold of the dangling straps. His fingers brushed lightly against hers as he pulled the apron snug around her waist and tied it with quick, practiced ease.
"Thanks…" Nino muttered, her voice quieter than usual. She stood still, letting him finish without protest.
"There. All set," Clark said, stepping back.
"Here, let me return the favor," Nino offered, turning around to face him. She made him turn around and pulled the apron tight over his frame as she tied the waist strings behind him. When she finished, she took one good look at him and immediately snickered. She covered her mouth with her hand, turning her face away as soft chuckles escaped her.
"What?" Clark asked flatly, looking down at himself in genuine confusion.
"Nothing…" Nino said, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "It's just… surprisingly a very good fit for you. You look like a stay-at-home dad."
Clark decided to play along. He puffed his chest out slightly and struck a mock-heroic pose. "Thank you. That might just be the biggest compliment anyone has ever given me," he declared with exaggerated pride. "I totally rock an apron, don't I?"
Nino's shoulders shook with laughter as she nodded in agreement, still trying to hide her grin behind her hand.
They stepped closer to their workstation, the array of ingredients waiting neatly before them. Nino glanced sideways at him. "Do you even know how to bake? I could guide you if you don't."
"You insult me, woman," Clark scoffed. He grabbed one of the clean kitchen towels and dramatically draped it over his shoulders like a chef's rag. "There's nothing I don't know how to do. I'm the best culinary chef in the entire world."
Nino rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. "First of all, no one likes a bragger. And secondly, I seriously doubt that. You don't exactly strike me as the culinary type."
"Fine. Just watch and be amazed," Clark said confidently. He immediately got to work, his movements precise and fluid. "You can handle the preparation. Just let me master chef it up in this bitch."
"…Master what?" Nino asked, staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement.
"It means your mouth is moving more than your hands. Get to preparing, woman," Clark retorted with a scoff.
Nino groaned in annoyance but complied, measuring out ingredients on her side of the station. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing because this counts for my grade as well."
Clark began adding the flour, cracked eggs, softened butter, milk, and sugar into the large mixing bowl. He held the bowl at just the right angle, his wrist moving in strong, controlled circles as he whisked everything together with surprising expertise. The motion was steady and efficient, the ingredients gradually transforming into a smooth batter.
Nino raised an eyebrow as she watched him. She leaned slightly over the station, her gaze lingering on the focused expression on his face, the subtle flex of veins along his forearms, and the confident rhythm of his wrist. She became so lost in the sight that she stared in a complete daze, momentarily forgetting her own tasks.
She wasn't the only one. All around the classroom, most of the girls had turned their attention toward Clark. It was as if a collective thought bubble had appeared above their heads: each one imagining coming home after a long, exhausting day to find Clark in the kitchen, wearing that apron, greeting them with a charming grin and presenting a delicious homemade banquet. The image was unexpectedly powerful.
Immediately, more than half the girls in the class started blushing fiercely and quickly looked away, pretending to focus on their own stations while stealing occasional glances.
Nino finally snapped out of her trance. She looked at Clark with a straight face and said, "You know, I'm seriously starting to hate you…"
"Huh?" Clark paused his whisking and looked at her in confusion. "What did I do? I didn't even do anything?"
"That honestly just makes it worse," Nino grumbled, shaking her head as she turned back to her measuring cups with a deep sigh.
Despite her words, Nino couldn't quite hide the faint smile that kept threatening to return to her lips.
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