When Chouza came home, the house was a mess.

Or, specifically, the kitchen was. And in it, Uzume was even messier.

With a sigh, he pulled off his shoes and socks before entering the room, avoiding the biggest piles of flour, sugar, egg and butter on the floor. There was bound to be other things on the floor, but that was something he would dwell on later.

He walked up to the younger man, calling out his name. Uzume turned, smiling brightly at his partner. “Chouza! Look! I made cake!”

The only thing Chouza could do was stare.

Cake, sure, but... all he could see was a burnt, messily frosting-covered circle that was probably once some sort of batter. Uzume on the other hand, looked more like a cake than the cake itself.

There was batter in his hair, on his face, on and in his clothes. The frosting had stained the fabric of his shirt, and it was all across his face.

Chouza sighed, and rubbed the batter off Uzume's face with his long sleeves. “I can't even tell if you were trying to make a cake or make yourself into one.”

Uzume just laughed and smiled.

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