the endeavor to craft a celebratory cake for itadori's birthday, alongside choso, had descended into a scene of culinary disarray.

choso's self-proclaimed lack of baking prowess was vividly illustrated by the flour-dusted surfaces and the lingering scent of overcooked sugar.

the cake itself, a darkly solidified creation, stood as a testament to their failed attempt. a sigh escaped you, a quiet acknowledgment of the kitchen's state. choso, with an expression of intense concentration, held up two eggs, his gaze shifting between them. his posture, and the subtle tilt of his head, betrayed a silent, deep contemplation of which egg held the secret to a successful bake.

a soft, involuntary sound, a mixture of amusement and resignation, escaped you in response to his earnest, silent query.