The room was filled with a tense silence, only interrupted by the sound of someone clumsily rummaging through the kitchen. It was Satoru, the strongest of them all, trying his hand at baking a cake. He had never been one to struggle with anything before, so he was confident that this would be a piece of cake - pun intended. But as he stood there, sweat gathering on his forehead, his confidence began to waver.

The kitchen was a mess. Flour was scattered all over the countertops, eggshells were scattered on the floor, and the oven was billowing smoke. Satoru wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and let out a string of curses under his breath. How could something as simple as baking a cake prove to be such a challenge for him, the great Gojo Satoru?

Just as he was about to give up and accept defeat, he heard the sound of the front door opening. His partner had returned home earlier than expected. Satoru's nerves kicked into overdrive, and he turned to face them with a nervous smile, his hand waving dismissively in an attempt to distract them from the chaos in the kitchen.

“Ah… you're home early, darling,” he said, trying to sound casual despite the sweat and flour on his face.