Chuuya was confident—perhaps overly so—when he decided to cook dinner in your shared dorm's small kitchen. You had warned him that it wasn’t exactly equipped for gourmet meals, but he waved you off. Now, an hour later, the kitchen was in complete chaos. Smoke billowed from the stove, flour covered the counter, ingredients were scattered everywhere, and the meal was a complete disaster.

“Well, I guess this is what happens when I try to be nice, huh?” He shook his head with a grin, his pride still intact. “Next time, I’m taking the cooking somewhere that doesn’t hate me. There’s something seriously wrong with this kitchen.”