"?"
That was Karl's response to the emoji Hanako had sent him early in the morning.
He'd just gotten out of bed and was about to make breakfast while waiting for Wilton Holt to confirm the press conference date for Lucius Lane when Hanako's message came through.
He glanced at the time.
7:55 a.m.
Karl: Up this early?
Hanako: Maki stayed over last night. She left this morning, so I got up too.
Karl: Sounds good. Had breakfast yet?
Hanako: Chidoko's on it.
Karl: I'm just about to make mine. I'll send you a pic later.
Hanako: Is it good?
Karl: It's decent. Better than street food for sure—I use real ingredients. But I doubt it compares to what you're having.
Hanako: I wanna try it.
Karl: Next time I visit, let me borrow your kitchen. I'll cook something for you.
While casually chatting with Hanako, the oil in Karl's frying pan had already heated up.
Still replying with his left hand, he grabbed some eggs with his right and cracked one into each corner of the pan—smooth one-handed moves.
"Tssss."
As the eggs hit the hot oil, they sizzled sharply. The whites quickly began to set from the heat, and thanks to Karl's steady hand, the yolks stayed intact, sitting perfectly in place.
He tossed the last eggshell into the compost bag, then gripped the pan's handle, gently tilting it so the eggs would slide slightly in the oil, making sure they were evenly spread out.
Once he saw the yolks starting to set as well, he steadied the pan and laid out four plates on the side.
Using a long-handled, pointed spoon, he scored the eggs with a clean vertical and horizontal cut—dividing the round egg sheet into four even pieces centered on the yolks. Then, carefully sliding the spoon beneath each portion, he lifted them onto the plates one by one.
T-BUG stayed up late again yesterday. Four servings should be enough today.
Thinking that, Karl kept texting Hanako while keeping an eye on the remaining oil in the pan—just enough to fry bacon and sausage.
Today's breakfast, as always, was a classic: bacon, sausage, fried eggs, toast, and milk.
He stuck to this every day because it was simple, quick, and nutritious. If he ever needed extra vitamins, he'd swap the milk for orange juice. No need to go fancy—convenience was king. For someone like Karl, who always cooked breakfast for everyone, it didn't get easier than this.
Truth be told, Karl actually preferred traditional Chinese breakfasts—youtiao, soy milk, xiaolongbao—but making those from scratch, kneading dough and grinding soybeans, was way too much of a hassle. If he really wanted something warm and Chinese, he'd settle for a pot of plain congee.
"Yo, Karl. You're the first one up, huh?"
While he was still busy, Karl heard Oliver's voice coming from the second floor. He looked up to see a half-asleep Oliver rubbing his eyes and greeting him.
"Help me out—bring the food to the table and go wake up V and Jackie. Tell them to eat while it's hot. First one done does the dishes."
"Alright, alright, I'm on it."
Oliver, already used to Karl ordering people around whenever there was a chance to slack off, didn't mind. He knew it was worth it for a hot breakfast. Yawning, he went to knock on doors. If there was work to do, better rope in the others—no point suffering alone.
Once V and Jackie were dragged out of bed, also yawning, breakfast prep sped up. A few minutes later, all four were seated at the table.
"T-BUG still out?"
V looked around and didn't see her. "Should we wake her?"
"You do it if you want. She was up late again. If you wake her now, she'll flip."
Oliver was chewing on a fried egg as he waved dismissively. Last time he interrupted her sleep, she'd gotten revenge by casting his childhood photos on the living room TV. He wasn't eager for a repeat.
"Yeah, forget that."
V remembered that incident too and wisely decided not to mess with T-BUG's beauty sleep. He fell back on an old nomad habit: sandwiching bacon, sausage, and fried egg between slices of toast.
That's when he noticed Karl, eating while still glued to his phone.
"You texting someone?"
"Yeah."
Karl replied briefly and glanced at V. Seeing his signature sandwich move, Karl pushed his plate over. "Make one for me too. Can't free up my hands."
"You can't do it one-handed?"
V rolled his eyes but still helped. While assembling Karl's sandwich, he heard Karl say:
"I think yours tastes better."
"Don't give me that crap. It's the same stuff. I've seen enough braindances with so-called culinary gods—you're not about to convince me you've got some artisan's soul."
"Maybe food made by a choomba just hits different?"
Karl chuckled and looked at his phone—right as Hanako messaged again:
Hanako: Maki made me some mini cakes yesterday. They were really good. So... Christmas is coming up. Are you excited for Christmas cake?
Karl: Maki made them? I wanna try. As for Christmas cake...
He remembered the one Mrs. Wells had ordered last year. The flavor was... well...
Karl: It was alright. I'm not super into Christmas, but hey—it's once a year. Cake's still cake.
Hanako: Then... would you like to try one I make?
Did he want to?
Could Hanako even cook? Hopefully not the same way she made tea...
Karl: We talking dark cuisine here?
Hanako: I learn fast!
Karl didn't argue.
He squinted a bit, mentally counting the days until Christmas. If Hanako started practicing now, and Chidoko suffered just a little each day, then by Christmas, he might actually end up with a decent cake.
Karl: Yeah, I'd love to.
Hanako: Great! Then let's spend Christmas together, okay?
…?
Didn't I just say I wanted cake? Weren't you gonna bring it to me? Why do I have to go over there?
Karl thought of the Christmas dinner Mrs. Wells would definitely host. That gave him pause.
She'd always treated them like her own kids. Telling her he wasn't coming for Christmas dinner... that'd feel like telling your mom you're not coming home for the holidays. No way he could say that.
After a moment of hesitation, Karl sent a new message:
Karl: How about this—why don't you come spend Christmas at El Coyote Cojo with us?
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