Yukino spoke up softly, "However, I must warn you: don't treat the Service Club like a wish-granting machine. We aren't tools for your convenience. We will provide help, but whether your wish is actually realized depends entirely on your own effort."

  "I see..." Yui seemed to grasp the club's purpose. She steeled her resolve and spoke up. "In that case... could you teach me how to make cookies?"

  "Cookies?"

  At Yui's request, all three of them paused. After a brief silent exchange, Yukino spoke first. "While I have experience in the kitchen, I've never actually made cookies before."

  "Don't look at me. I'm completely useless in a kitchen," Haruki Aizawa said, shaking his head.

  His understanding of cooking was effectively non-existent. The one time he had tried to cook for himself, he had nearly leveled the kitchen with a localized grease fire. Since then, he had abandoned the culinary arts entirely.

  "I've helped my sister make them once or twice," Hachiman muttered with a complicated expression.

  It turned out that of the three, the only one with any actual cookie-making experience was Hachiman. The Service Club's very first request had already hit a major hurdle.

  Fortunately, Yui Yuigahama didn't seem to mind. She expined that she just wanted to try making them and didn't necessarily need expert guidance. After a quick discussion, they decided that Yukino, Hachiman, and Yui would do the baking, while Haruki would serve as the taste-tester.

  "How did I end up with this job?" Haruki asked, genuinely confused by the development.

  "A beginner needs to work alongside others to identify their fws and find a way to improve," Yukino expined.

  "That doesn't expin why I have to eat them."

  "Because every experiment needs an evaluator. Unless you're confident enough in your own skills to help with the actual baking?"

  "Fine," Haruki sighed. He didn't care about the tasting; as long as he didn't have to touch a stove, he was satisfied.

  The group moved to the school's home economics room and began the preparations.

  "Ha-Haruki-kun... um, I have a question," Yui whispered, sidling up to him while the others were busy.

  "What is it?"

  "Wh-What do you think of 'domestic' girls? Do you... hate the type that's good at housework?"

  "Not particurly."

  Haruki didn't know why she was asking, but he answered honestly. The truth was he didn't care if a girl was domestic or not. To him, every type of girl was the same—secondary to the path of the sword.

  However, Haruki's blunt answer led to a predictable misunderstanding. Yui beamed, looking visibly relieved.

  "Right! I'm going to do my best!"

  Yui rolled up her sleeves and began. She started by cracking eggs, then added flour, sugar, butter, and vanil extract. From a distance, her movements looked practiced and confident. Up close, it was a biological disaster.

  First, she cracked the eggs—shells and all—directly into the bowl. Then came the flour, which she stirred into a thick, lumpy paste. The butter went in stone-cold and un-melted. When it came to seasoning, she mistook the salt for sugar and poured in half a bottle of vanil extract.

  The resulting mixture looked less like cookie dough and more like industrial sludge. When it finally came out of the oven, the "cookies" were pitch-bck, jagged lumps that looked more like unrefined iron ore than food.

  "Is... is this even safe to consume?" Hachiman and Yukino stared at the tray, their eyes filled with dread. Even Yui looked shaken by the results of her bor.

  Haruki, however, remained perfectly stoic. He picked up a bck lump, took a bite, and chewed methodically.

  "It's fine," he said, his face as unmoving as a statue. "It's edible."

  "Really?!" Yui's eyes lit up with shock and joy.

  Hachiman and Yukino looked at him with deep skepticism. They didn't realize that Haruki's standards for food were subterranean. To a man who had survived the most grueling training regimens and battlefield conditions, "edible" simply meant it contained calories and wasn't literally toxic.

  The truth only came to light when Yukino and Hachiman, emboldened by Haruki's reaction, each took a bite.

  Seconds ter, they were both doubled over, coughing violently as if trying to purge their systems of a heavy-metal poison. From that day forward, a rule was etched into the minds of everyone in the Service Club: Never trust Haruki Aizawa when he says something is "edible." To him, "edible" was a category that included everything except floor wax and gunpowder.

  After the disaster that was Yui's baking, Haruki moved on to taste the efforts of Yukino and Hachiman.

  First was Yukino. Though it was her first time, her cookies were surprisingly decent. They were perfectly shaped and correctly baked. However, they were too perfect—standardized to the point of being indistinguishable from a generic store-bought brand. They cked character.

  "It's good, but average," Haruki evaluated.

  "Average?" Yui whispered, looking like she was about to cry. Compared to her own "hell-fire" cookies, Yukino's were a culinary masterpiece.

  Yukino didn't look offended. She crossed her arms and spoke calmly. "This was my first attempt. I followed the recipe to the letter, so a standard fvor is only logical."

  "I don't think logic is the problem," Haruki noted, looking at her thoughtfully.

  "Oh? You think there's another fw in my process?"

  "Have you ever made a meal for someone else before, Yukinoshita?"

  "I... what does that have to do with anything?"

  "Cooking is ultimately an act for someone else," Haruki said ftly. "If you're only cooking for yourself, even a convenience store bento tastes fine. Your cookies taste like a factory product because you weren't thinking about who would eat them. You were just completing a checklist."

  "..." Yukino fell silent, Haruki's words clearly striking a chord she wasn't expecting.

  Sensing the atmosphere turning stiff, Hachiman cleared his throat. "Ahem. Well, Haruki, why don't you try mine?"

  "Sure."

  Haruki took a bite of Hachiman's cookie. After a moment of silence, he nodded. "This is the best one here."

  "Eh?!" Hachiman actually blushed, caught off guard by the high praise.

  Skeptical, Yukino and Yui both tried Hachiman's batch. They were forced to agree. While Hachiman's cookies weren't as aesthetically pleasing as Yukino's, the fvor was softer, warmer, and much more satisfying. It didn't feel like a chore to eat.

  "How... how is Hikigaya-kun's actually better than mine?" Yui asked, her world-view crumbling. Losing to Yukino was fine, but losing to the guy with the "rotting" eyes was a bridge too far.

  "Maybe because I make them for my sister all the time," Hachiman muttered, scratching his head awkwardly.

  "It's because Hachiman considered the person eating them," Haruki said calmly. "A dish reflects the cook's intent. You have to stand in the other person's shoes to make something truly excellent. Yuigahama's effort is a separate issue, but Yukinoshita, yours cked the human element entirely."

  "..." Yukino remained quiet. It was likely the first time she had faced such a direct, undeniable defeat in a technical skill.

  Ultimately, the chaotic baking session ended with Hachiman as the surprise victor.

  "I still can't believe the 'Dead-Eyed Guy' is a better cook than me," Yui grumbled as they cleaned up.

  "What do my eyes have to do with my whisking ability?" Hachiman shot back. "Besides, being able to cook is a basic requirement for my future."

  "Your future?"

  "My goal is to become a high-tier stay-at-home husband."

  "A house-husband? What kind of weird goal is that..." Both Yui and Yukino looked at him with exasperated expressions.

  Haruki, however, spoke up. "Any goal that isn't a crime is worthy of pursuit. If you want to be a house-husband, go for it. Just make sure you're the best one there is."

  "Haruki?" Hachiman looked at him, genuinely touched. He had expected Haruki—the "Alpha" swordsman—to be the first one to mock him.

  Yukino, however, remained cold. "Effort is all well and good, but one must not point it in the wrong direction. Otherwise, it's just a waste of time."

  "Is that so? And who defines the 'correct' direction, Yukinoshita?" Haruki asked, looking directly at her. "Is your definition of 'correct' the only one that matters?"

  "My opinion isn't absolute, but society has standards for where a man's effort should be pced."

  "So you think society's standards invalidate his personal goal?"

  "Men are expected to carry certain responsibilities," Yukino countered. "Modern society doesn't look kindly on a man who seeks such a... passive role."

  "I disagree," Haruki said, his voice level. "The strong carry the responsibility, regardless of gender. Are you suggesting that a man is inherently more capable than a woman, or that he must be because of his biology? Because that sounds like the exact kind of prejudice you usually cim to hate."

  "No, I didn't say—"

  As the debate continued, Haruki slowly began to dismantle Yukino's rigid logic. Hachiman and Yui watched in awe. They had never seen someone handle the "Ice Queen" so effortlessly, turning her own arguments against her.

  In that moment, even Yui couldn't help but think: Wait... Haruki-kun is actually kind of cool.

  ***********************************************

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