Aira tied the apron strings around her waist, but the fabric was far too big for her small frame. It was Yoru's, after all. The ends drooped around her knees, and the excess fabric around her shoulders kept slipping, making her look like a child playing dress-up. Still, she puffed up her chest with pride, standing tall as she faced the kitchenette.
Ito, who sat at the table, sighed deeply, already preparing for the worst.
"You're really going to do this, huh?"
"Of course!" Aira replied enthusiastically. "Master cooks for me all the time. Now it's my turn to be the great chef!"
Ito rested his chin in his hand. "This is going to be a disaster..."
Aira ignored him and confidently grabbed an onion. "First, I'll chop this up, just like I saw Master do!"
She placed it on the cutting board and picked up a knife. But the moment she tried to slice it, the knife barely made a dent. She frowned, pressing harder. Nothing.
"Why isn't it cutting?" she muttered, confused.
