Your oven-mitt-clad hands gently pull the pan from the oven, lifting it to the counter with a gentle thud. Both you and your blonde companion lean over to peer into it, noting the, er...blackened color.
An unpleasant stench of burnt ingredients immediately assaults your nose, causing it to curl up into a grimace. You'd looked away for 5 minutes, but it had been enough to completely ruin the side dish to that evening's dinner. And, after an extended glance at the remains, it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that you'd also rendered the pan unusable.
"Well, it's..." Killer starts, his tone lacking confidence, "...a good try, at least."
Disappointment overwhelms you. Your shoulders sag with a dejected sigh, and Killer turns to you, laying a comforting hand upon them.
"Hey, don't be so down, Y/N." He offers softly, but you're already shaking your head, turning away. "We can try again."
"I don't know why you keep asking me to help with dinner, Killer. This is the 3rd time I've ruined something. At this rate, you won't have anything left to cook with, and I just feel like trying to learn is pointless." Your feet carry you as if to leave the Victoria Punk's little kitchen, Killer's domain, but he is quick to step in your path to stop you.
"That's no way to look at it. Your tonkatsu yesterday wasn't bad at all!" He reminded, offering you a smile of encouragement. "And before that, the curry was only missing one ingredient, but I thought it tasted just fine."
Your arms cross over one another, a stale glance wavered at him. "I completely burned the rice to a crisp for the omurice. It was like chewing on rocks."
"So what?"
"I'm terrible! I'm just not cut out for cooking." You exclaim in despair, but Killer refuses to acknowledge such a claim. His head is already shaking before you finished.
"Everyone makes mistakes while they're learning. That's the point of learning. Hell, I made tons of them." He pointed out with conviction. "Y/N, I've ruined more meals than you can begin to count. Ask Kid, he'd love to tell you about all of my failed attempts at baking when we were younger. Or how I nearly burned down the ship not long after we started sailing. I wasn't automatically a good cook. I had to work at it, and make all those mistakes along the way to figure out how to do it right."
Having only ever known Killer as an excellent cook, a part of you found it difficult to believe he'd been a stumbling novice at any point in his life. Some of the most delicious meals you'd ever eaten had come from the culinary skill of the blonde man at your side.
Still, you'd never known him to lie to you, even to make you feel better. In your silence, he lays an encouraging hand on your shoulder, giving it a little shake for good measure. "And don't worry about all the pans. I needed new ones anyway, and now Kid doesn't have an excuse not to buy new kitchenware. So, this is actually a win-win situation."
"If you're sure..." You begin to reluctantly come around to his reasoning. The first mate had a knack for always picking up your spirits when you were down, without so much as an effort. You watch his helmet tilt happily.
"I am."
"Well, now what?" You ask, pointing to the ruined remains of what you'd been making. Your hunch had been right. The pan was definitely beyond salvage. Killer takes a hold of the corner, his fingers protected by the oven mitt, and sets it into the sink to cool off.
"Now, we try again. I know you'll get this next one right. Let me find my other set of pans..."
ns 15.158.61.6da2
