Making the Festival Treats
The long holiday weekend, which had seemed like it would never end, was suddenly gazing at its final day.
Today was the day the menu teams, who had made their plans even before the holiday began, would gather.
Yeoncheong was heading to the address she'd been given, careful not to be late.
After stopping by the mart to buy the ingredients each of them had promised to bring, she boarded the bus and stared blankly out the window.
I've lost my mind... seriously.
More than a day had already passed since her visit to Suyeon's house, but the memory remained vivid, still tormenting Yeoncheong.
Just the day before that, boredom alone had been trouble enough.
The real problem was that seeing an ordinary family, something she hadn't experienced in so long, had made her unusually sentimental.
Yeoncheong ran a hand down her face and studied her faint reflection in the window.
Her cheeks, flushed from dwelling on that moment.
Simply calling it embarrassment didn't quite cover it — even she felt a twinge of guilt.
Yes, it was mortifying that she'd clung to her friend like a spoiled child demanding to be held. But there was also the unsettling fact that, secretly, she hadn't disliked the situation one bit.
She wouldn't have known back when she avoided skinship at all costs and tried not to think about it, but...
The scent of shampoo, stronger than usual, noticed only from up close. The soft, worn fuzziness of long-slept-in pajamas and the warmth of another person's body. The ticklish sensation on her chest where Suyeon's hand stroked her back.
She'd buried her face in that shoulder and indulged herself to her heart's content, so no matter how hard she tried to forget, it wouldn't come easily.
Cursing the version of herself from a few days ago — the one tangled up in a dizzying mix of loneliness and envy — she muttered under her breath.
How am I supposed to look Suyeon or Siyeon in the face?
Screech.
The bus came to a stop at her destination, as if to say she'd have plenty of time to reflect on it later.
Yeoncheong took the bus's advice.
Stepping off with the past firmly behind her, she checked the address and set off toward the meeting spot.
The building housed the shared kitchen a friend had reserved. Yeoncheong wasn't late, but every one of her friends had already arrived.
"Oh, the Class President made it too."
"Hey, long time no see~"
The friends greeted Yeoncheong, the last to arrive. Perhaps being bored and alone had left its residue, because even though it hadn't been that long, they seemed genuinely glad to see her.
Hasol, who had been peeking out from the back of the kitchen, came over to her as well.
"Wasn't it heavy?"
What Yeoncheong had brought was flour. Even when the closer friends said they'd buy their own, she'd stubbornly insisted — pride, apparently.
"I'm fine. Not even a wobble."
Yeoncheong set the flour down on the wide counter.
Then she rolled up the sleeves of her gray hoodie and struck a pose.
A classic flex. It looked for all the world like she was fishing for compliments about her strength.
"Whoa, look how clean her arms are."
"Can I touch them?"
Arms that hadn't seen a single proper workout since she'd become a girl. Spotless, without a blemish, and silky smooth — and her friends praised an entirely different aspect of them.
"Huh?"
Taking her reply as permission, the friends reached out without hesitation.
"So soft."
"So squishy."
"How did you carry all that with these arms?"
At the shameless hands kneading and squeezing her arm, Yeoncheong recoiled in shock.
"Eek! Stop it!"
As she pulled her sleeves back down and shook the friends off, a chorus of jeers flew her way.
"Aww~ Class President's so stingy."
"Seriously. It's not like touching them wears them out."
Whether she'd liked the feel of it herself or not, Yeoncheong cleared her throat a couple of times at the friends who looked disappointed.
"Ahem... Our reserved time is running out even as we speak. Playtime comes after we finish our work."
She wasn't wrong, so the friends grumbled but laid out the ingredients they'd each brought on the counter.
Hasol, watching the whole scene, snickered — and Yeoncheong shot the idle bystander a resentful glare.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
The place makes the person, as they say.
Watching Yeoncheong grow into something resembling an actual class president through the festival preparations was enough to make anyone laugh.
Hasol dodged the question because she could see, plain as day, exactly how puffed-up Yeoncheong would get if told the truth.
But Yeoncheong, hardened by her many stints as a punching bag, read the hidden meaning just fine.
"Hasol, if even you're against me, I'll seriously cry?"
"O-okay. Sorry, sorry."
Comforting the sulking Yeoncheong, Hasol headed toward the counter where the others had gathered.
Though they were all meeting for the first time today, what to make had already been decided.
Cookies and muffins.
Using an actual stove was out of the question, and the cooking club's kitchen was bound to be a madhouse — making fresh treats on the day of the festival itself simply came with too many constraints.
So for Yeoncheong and her friends, whose baking experience was thin at best, the answer was the basics: treats that wouldn't change much in taste over time, and were easy to package and store.
Those two checked every box.
Simple, reliably tasty, and with cocoa powder, chocolate chips, or vanilla extract, they could be made in plenty of varieties.
"Let's each make our own."
"Yeah, that sounds fun."
Everyone agreed to Yeoncheong's suggestion of working in pairs, and she partnered with Hasol to start on the cookies.
"Ready?"
"Yup."
Hasol, already wearing an apron, nodded energetically, and they got to work.
Whether cookies or muffins, all that remained was baking the finished dough in the oven.
In other words, the dough was everything.
"Hasol, can you whip up the egg wash? I'll cream the butter and sugar."
"Got it."
Making the dough meant:
Softening the butter with a spatula. Adding sugar and mixing again. Adding the egg wash to the butter-sugar mixture and mixing again. Adding the sifted dry ingredients and mixing yet again, until it all came together in one mass.
In short, it required an endless repetition of strength training.
This is harder than I thought?
That was Yeoncheong's first impression of making dough.
Her arms ached from working muscles she'd never used before.
"Kyaaa! Stir it slowly!"
At the neighboring counter, dough was flying everywhere and chaos reigned.
A vivid vision of what awaited anyone who mixed too vigorously had made them cautious — that played its part too.
"Want to switch? You look like you're struggling."
Maybe it really was a cooking club thing. Hasol, who had finished the egg wash ages ago and been standing by, offered a helping hand.
However.
"I'm fine. I can do this."
Yeoncheong refused the help as she added the egg wash to the dough.
Her pride as a former man had once again popped its head up at the worst possible moment.
Hasol, keeper of the secret, just grinned at how cute her friend was being.
While the others traded off, Yeoncheong stubbornly finished the dough all on her own.
"Good work."
When Hasol returned from putting the finished dough in the fridge, Yeoncheong glanced at her hesitantly and asked.
"Why haven't you asked me to switch since then?"
"Hm?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
Too embarrassed to say it outright, Yeoncheong mumbled under her breath as she stretched out her aching arm.
By this point, even Hasol was curious just how long Yeoncheong planned to keep the act up.
The rented time was limited, though — there was no rest to be had.
While the cookie dough chilled in the fridge for about thirty minutes, they moved straight on to the muffin batter.
Muffin batter wasn't all that different from cookie dough.
"Alright, Yeoncheong. You're up?"
Hasol casually handed her the mixing bowl, and Yeoncheong took it, hesitating.
"Huh? O-okay. Of course..."
Switching arms as she mixed the batter, Yeoncheong kept stealing glances at Hasol.
The look clearly said she was hoping to be rescued any second now. She thought she was hiding it, but it was barely transparent.
So this is why Suyeon and Seoha love teasing her?
Hasol felt a flicker of understanding for those two, and her lips twitched.
"Yeoncheong."
"Yeah!"
Her friend looked up at her, bright-faced, as if she'd been waiting all along.
Faced with that expression, the wrong words slipped out before she could stop them.
"C-can I go use the bathroom real quick?"
"Wh-what?"
At Hasol's unexpected words, those blue eyes wavered as if an earthquake had struck.
Realizing her mistake, Hasol swiftly snatched the bowl from her friend's hands.
"Kidding, kidding. Scared you, didn't I?"
Only then did Yeoncheong realize she'd been strung along on purpose, and her face crumpled into a look close to tears.
"If... if even you turn on me, that's really not okay."
She was already a punching bag for two of the four friends she ran with — if even the comparatively gentle one joined in, that was a line too far.
For Yeoncheong, tormented by Seoha and Suyeon, Hasol was nearly her only refuge, and she worried it might disappear.
"Okay then. I'll take it from here, so you go rest."
"...Yeah."
To sum it up, the cookie and muffin baking was a resounding success.
Not only the basic cookies and muffins Yeoncheong and Hasol made, but the ones the other friends had secretly spiked with chocolate chips or cocoa powder were delicious as well.
Taste verdicts could wait — the kids who finished cleanup a little early held a small party over their handmade treats.
With hastily bought drinks from a nearby store and homemade cookies and muffins in hand, bright smiles spread across every face.
"You saved some to bring to school tomorrow, right?"
"Don't worry, Class President. Already done."
Yeoncheong nodded, then murmured quietly amid the cozy atmosphere.
"Will it be okay?"
But there was one friend sitting close enough that private muttering was out of the question.
Hasol tilted her head at the cryptic remark.
"About what?"
"The festival. I keep wondering if this menu will really be enough..."
Running their own booth was a last for the second-years too — and for Yeoncheong, a first and a last.
She'd come to sense how precious it was, if only indirectly, through countless class meetings.
Only someone like Yeoncheong — who was even reading pastry cookbooks to prepare her absolute best — could have said it.
"Shouldn't we be worrying about the penalty costume more than that?"
At Hasol's words, Yeoncheong snorted a laugh.
"Oh come on~ it's called a penalty, but how bad could it possibly be? Whatever they bring, I'll show everyone exactly 'how a penalty is done.'"
"Normally when you say things like that, Yeoncheong, the situation goes somewhere very strange..."
Hasol smiled back at her and reached for one of the butter cookies in front of her.
She turned the round, cutter-stamped cookie this way and that, and for a moment Yeoncheong eyed her strangely.
"Spotted an opening."
Hasol popped the cookie straight into Yeoncheong's mouth, then asked the wide, round blue eyes in front of her.
"Tasty?"
"Mmph."
Her words came out muffled, cookie still in mouth.
"If it's that good, what's there to worry about? Have a little more confidence — same spirit you bring to penalties."
Hasol raised her eyebrows as if to say, right? Thinking she'd needlessly worried her friend, Yeoncheong gave an awkward smile.
"I wasn't worrying that seriously. I mean, look who made them — of course they're good."
"There it is. Love that mindset."
"...Maybe it's because you're feeding them to me. They do taste even better. Hehe."
Yeoncheong meant it as a way to lift the spirits of the friend she'd troubled over nothing — but there was a problem with how she phrased it.
The result:
Smack.
"Ah... did I hit too hard?"
"Hasol? What was that for, all of a sudden?"
At the sight of Hasol slapping her own cheek out of nowhere, everyone froze in shock.
She'd blurted it out and instantly regretted it, and an excuse tumbled from her lips.
"...I was sleepy. I did it because I was sleepy."
For something like that, the sound had been awfully loud, but nobody was about to press the matter when she'd owned it herself.
"If you're tired, head home early. The rest of us can finish up."
Yeoncheong fussed over Hasol, taking her completely at her word.
Watching her friend, Hasol thought to herself:
She's really something... wait, is she doing this on purpose because I pranked her earlier? She actually startled me.
Hasol had long since resolved to stay out of the battlefield where Suyeon and Seoha tore into each other.
The small party wrapped up without a hitch.
Having finished the cleanup completely, the kids said see-you-tomorrow and parted ways.
The end of the long holiday weekend had arrived.