badly_knitted: (Dee & Ryo black & white)
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Title: Kitchen Chaos
Fandom: FAKE
Author: [personal profile] badly_knitted 
Characters: Ryo, Bikky.
Rating: G
Setting: Around Vol. 2.
Summary: Ryo’s kitchen looks like a disaster area.
Word Count: 300
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Ryo + Bikky, Bikky leaves the kitchen in a mess,’ at [community profile] fic_promptly .
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.





The worst part of it is that Ryo knows Bikky meant well, but the mess is still indescribable. It’s not merely the stack of dirty dishes waiting to be washed, though that’s certainly bad enough. From where he’s standing, it looks like Bikky used every pot and pan Ryo owns in his endeavours, and they haven’t even been put to soak, meaning that sauce and other things have dried into a hard crust that will take some removing. At least soaking everything overnight should help. But you can’t soak a whole kitchen.


The normally pristine room resembles a murder scene, though thankfully without a body. Sauce is splattered like blood on worktops, dripping down cupboard doors, and splashed across the floor, not to mention the kitchen table, and quite probably the chairs too. There even seems to be some on the ceiling. Worse than that, the top of the cooker is smeared with what was probably sauce at one point but is now so burned on that it’s become little more than charcoal. It’s a nightmare scene for someone as house-proud as Ryo.


Despite all that, he can’t bring himself to be angry. Bikky is only twelve, and all he’d wanted to do was surprise Ryo by cooking him a birthday dinner. He must have been watching closely every time Ryo cooked, because the meal was only slightly overdone, most likely due to Ryo being a bit late home, and it had definitely been a surprise.


“Sorry about the mess.” Bikky is subdued, obviously thinking he’s about to get yelled at.


Ryo laughs softly. “It’s the thought that counts, and the meal was lovely. Thank you. How about we put the dishes to soak, mop up the worst, and leave the rest until morning?”


Nothing’s going to spoil his birthday.



The End





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