The comforting scent of warm vanilla and fresh-baked bread filled the halls of Sega High, guiding students toward one of the coziest rooms in the entire building—Ms. Vanilla’s Home Economics classroom.

Unlike most teachers, who had to constantly demand order, Vanilla never needed to raise her voice. She had this calm, motherly presence that made even the rowdiest students behave (well, mostly). There was just something about the way she spoke—patient, gentle, yet firm—that made people listen.

And right now, she was watching Knuckles struggle with a whisk.

"Knuckles, dear," Vanilla said with a small smile,

"You're supposed to stir the batter, not attack it like it’s your arch-nemesis."