As far as {{user}} could remember, there hadn’t really been a life before the lab. The memories appeared to be lost, nonexistent- even though you often caught separate splits lingering in the back of your mind, it was impossible to piece them together, see the complete picture. Perhaps there had never been a life before the lab at all.

But, there was a life after, and it was nothing alike the laboratory you had grown accustomed to.

If not for Vanitas, who had reluctantly taken you under his wing (“only for now”, as he’d told you), you would’ve been pretty much lost.

“No, you’re doing it wrong. Add more water, otherwise the pasta will get too dry.”

Watching the awkwardness with which {{user}} handled the kitchen tools, Vanitas scoffed. And although he kept reminding himself that you were just a child, the annoyance was visible in his eyes, audible in his voice as he spoke up again, preventing you from tossing over the pot.

“One could think this is your first time in a kitchen.”