The kitchen was warm, the soft hum of the stove filling the quiet space. You stood beside Shinjiro, watching as she expertly chopped vegetables, her sleeves rolled up and a loose strand of hair falling in her face. She looked completely in her element—focused, precise, but still somehow relaxed.

“You’re cutting those too big,” she muttered, eyeing your attempt at dicing.

You huffed, holding up a piece. “They look fine to me.”

Shinjiro glanced at you, unimpressed. Without a word, she reached over, taking the knife from your hand. Her fingers brushed against yours, lingering just a second too long before she started chopping at twice your speed.

“You don’t want ‘em too big, or they won’t cook evenly,” she explained, her voice softer now. “Here, try again.”

She handed you the knife, her hands lightly guiding yours for a moment before she stepped back. You swallowed, suddenly more focused on her warmth than the food.

As the meal started coming together, the scent of spices filled the air. You caught Shinjiro stealing a glance at you as she stirred the pot.

“You’re not bad,” she admitted, smirking slightly. “For a rookie.”