Yes, It's the Baking Club - 1
I perched on the Laku-Laku Erich had given me as a gift and surveyed the club room. With seven regular members, one advisor, and one honorary member now permanently stationed here, it felt noticeably busier than last year.
Glancing to the right, I saw Luise checking the oven while baking cookies, the Demon Duke beside her showing interest in confectionery, and Sera helping out by carrying ingredients. Pure, unspoiled members who had yet to be tainted by madness—how pleasant they were to look at.
They're getting along well.
I was especially relieved that Luise and Sera seemed to be managing just fine together. From Sera's perspective, Luise was the only other female member and the club president, aside from the honorary member Demon Duke. Things would have been awkward if the two of them didn't get along.
Besides, club relations aside, Luise would become her sister-in-law once she graduated from the Academy. No harm in getting friendly ahead of time.
Now this is a baking club.
At any rate, with women of pink, white, and golden hair gathered together making sweets, it really felt like a proper baking club. Only Luise among the three actually possessed any baking skill, but even watching from nearby counted for something.
And then there's that lot.
Quietly turning my gaze to the left, I found the five absolute madmen. Those ones I had already given up even watching. There had definitely been a time when they had volunteered to join the baking club themselves.
"You really do bring nothing but the most bizarre tactics."
"Haha, thanks for the compliment."
Having fallen victim to the four-bishop tactic right after Later, Ainter delivered a smiling "so you're just handing me the game" with perfect poise. Of course, from Ryutis's perspective it was pure praise, so he simply laughed it off.
A complete free-for-all of chess unfolding inside the baking club room—while actual baking was happening in real time on the other side. Common sense dictated that someone ought to object, yet the male members just watched with eager interest, showing no intention of stopping it.
"I'll go next."
"Oh! Beating the next Saint with bishops ought to feel especially good!"
No—they weren't just watching. They were actively joining in.
And what was with the early teabagging? At least wait until you've actually won before trash-talking. That's just basic manners.
And this is the baking club.
I couldn't bear to watch any longer and shut my eyes. I had seen this same mess last year, but back then they at least had the excuse of being collectively dumped by Luise, so I let it slide. Young men in their prime are allowed a little wandering after getting rejected by the woman they love. That was why I had stood by while the baking club darkly evolved into a chess club, a poker club, and a foot-volleyball club.
But things were different now. They had had the whole winter break to pull themselves together, and a new school year had begun. Wasn't it about time they finished their wandering and approached the club with a fresh mindset?
Then again, turning the baking club into a multi-purpose entertainment club might also count as a "fresh mindset."
Crazy bastards.
My mistake. They had evolved from complete dogs into useful labor and even shown unexpected brain plays, so I had momentarily forgotten. Their true nature was pure lunacy.
"Eat first, then play. They're done."
Fortunately, Luise's voice announcing the finished cookies postponed Tanian's defeat. Honestly, I couldn't even picture Ryutis losing at chess.
"We can play chess while we ea—"
"Then you'll just drop crumbs everywhere."
Her firm declaration that eating required full concentration made Ryutis click his tongue in disappointment.
And I nearly sighed at the sheer strangeness of the conversation. So as long as they ate, it didn't matter whether they played chess or not?
She's compromised.
It wasn't just the male members who were pure madness anymore—President Luise herself had compromised with the situation. Whether they played chess in the club room or went outside for foot-volleyball, she seemed to just roll with it. As long as they ate the cookies and bread she made and gathered to talk like this, she looked content.
Of course, the real purpose of Academy clubs was social bonding, so it wasn't entirely strange... but they could at least pretend to honor the founding purpose.
I'm sorry.
When Sera came into view, gently smiling as she bit into a cookie, an indescribable guilt washed over me.
With the president already compromised, there was nothing to say about new arrivals like the Demon Duke and Sera. The Demon Duke found the kids these days free-spirited and fascinating, while Sera had simply accepted this insane situation as normal—absorbing completely wrong common sense.
It was dreadful. This was Sera's first real social activity in her life, and we were showing her something that was anything but normal. If the head maid found out, she would wail.
And I can't even say anything about it.
The most terrible part was that I couldn't stop this bizarre phenomenon.
They were acting less like a baking club and more like a multi-purpose entertainment club, but honestly it didn't harm me personally. I just felt despair at a club that completely failed to live up to its name.
They obediently gathered at the club where I could easily keep an eye on them, enjoyed whatever amusements they wanted, and stayed quiet. From a manager's standpoint, wasn't that the best possible situation? If I tried to stop them and they said, "Then we'll go play somewhere else," I would have to bang my head on the floor begging them not to leave.
...As long as they're happy, right?
I forcibly spun up the happiness circuit. If the president said nothing and every member was happy, wasn't that enough? As an advisor whose top priority was the happiness and safety of the members, shouldn't I be pleased with this situation?
Yeah. Let's just think of it that way.
Fortunately, a third party outside the club possessed an objective viewpoint.
"We might have to change the club name before long."
"I think so too."
Hearing my grumbling, Margeta opened her mouth with an awkward smile. If only one out of seven official members actually baked, that wasn't a baking club—that was a club with 0.03% baking flavoring added.
I felt cognitive dissonance coming on. The sole new member had passion but no baking skill, while the existing members had skill but no passion. Who the hell balanced it this way?
"Still, it's a relief that they seem to have affection for the club itself."
Margeta nodded at those words of consolation, meager as they were.
No matter how many times I stressed it, the Baking Club was a club where practical function mattered far more than public image. Even if the members loved baking, it meant nothing if they couldn't keep members like Ryutis or Later around. As long as they properly held onto the members—even in this "Baking Club (Does Not Bake)" state—it was enough.
I just hope it stays this way.
But I was a little worried. These guys were already freely ignoring the club's public function. It would be a lie to say I didn't fear that someday they might ignore the framework of a "club" itself.
So please, please just maintain this state until graduation. Then I wouldn't care whether it was a baking club or a foot-volleyball club. They could turn the club room into a casino and I would let it slide.
"But Karl. I didn't really want to bring this up at a time like this either."
While I was resolving to somehow soothe the shocked Luise, Margeta carefully gauged my reaction and spoke.
I felt uneasy. What on earth was she about to say after leading in like that?
"The application period for the expo is coming up soon... you remember, right?"
"Ah."
"I had forgotten."
A memory buried in a corner of my head was dredged up far too late. Right—the first major event on the Academy's yearly schedule was the expo. Last year it had been complete chaos because of the third glory, with both the First Division Chief and Fourth Division Chief showing up.
"We need to take applications for what kind of booth each club will run. What booth will the Baking Club operate?"
"……"
I couldn't bring myself to open my mouth. There was no way I could confidently declare, "We're doing a baking booth again this year!"
Looking at the current state of things, someone was definitely going to suggest running a completely different booth.
Ominous predictions are never wrong.
"Wouldn't running the same booth two years in a row be boring?"
As always, Ryutis opened fire by wagging his devil's tongue.
I nearly clapped a hand to my forehead at the utterly unexpected remark. Club booths are supposed to continue with the same theme—why would anyone run a theme completely unrelated to their club? Other clubs would cry if they heard that.
No need to look far—Luise herself was already wearing a shocked expression. So this was the difference between a lunatic and a normal person.
"Booths are originally run with the same theme."
"Ah, is that so?"
Yeah, you bastard.
The words rose all the way to my throat, but I swallowed them. Season 78 Ryutis was a different creature from Season 77 Ryutis... For now his merits still overwhelmingly outweighed his demerits, so I had to endure...
Why are we even having this conversation?
At the same time, a sense of futility washed over me. Choosing a booth theme for the expo—was this something that required discussion? Obviously we were going with a baking concept just like last year, right?
"These days do clubs run booths unrelated to their theme?"
"No..."
It was so bad that the Demon Duke, who had been watching the scene, casually asked Luise. Maybe the expo format had changed in the last hundred years.
Of course Luise answered weakly in a voice that sounded like her insides were collapsing. A thick layer of bewilderment settled in the Demon Duke's eyes as well.
Damn it.
I suppressed the sigh trying to burst out and stared blankly at Erich, who was standing there dazed. Before the lunatics remade the world, we needed to recruit as many normal people as possible.
Fortunately, Erich caught my gaze and hurriedly opened his mouth. The look I had sent him—promising to thrash him if he didn't stop that insane red immediately—clearly worked.
"Wouldn't running a baking booth be better? The justification we used to keep out new members was that they couldn't bake, so if we ourselves abandon baking, it'd look strange."
"A fair point. If the justification loses its force, the control we barely achieved will collapse."
Later threw his weight behind Erich's perfectly reasonable argument.
It was moving. Labor Units Two and Three moving according to my will. So this was what it felt like for a boss to handle his subordinates.
...What would I have done without these guys?
Without them I would have had to persuade five members all by myself.
Terrifying just to think about. Last year's me—somehow I managed not to kill myself and actually endured it.