Chapter 21, everybody! Another one that was written well ahead of the rest, but I like the story thread it introduces. :D

We never got any confirmation from the show as to whether or not Obake finished his degree so…might be possible that he didn't finish college. Still a safe bet that he, like other SFIT students, despises SFAI on principle though. XD

Since I headcanon that that thing in Obake's face is a piece of tech, that means the man avoids Muirahara Woods on principle, but I imagine his opinion of the woods mirrors Hiro's in the episode. Also recently rewatched "Muirahara Woods" and I still stand by my statement that Hiro would have 100% burned down the woods if there had been no witnesses.

In other news…the joy of college is that for years we've been told to not even bother with anywhere unless we have a degree to our name (I've seen for myself how people have been passed over for opportunities due to no college degree even though they have the knowledge/skills), and then when we've got massive debt from attending we're told that that's what we get for getting a degree instead of a job. Conflating that with how government interference inflated both college price and attendance time, and the more blasé takes of well you got just what you deserved gets me hot enough to fry eggs on. Moral of the story? If the government tries to stick its finger in a pie, chop it off.

Moving on to nicer topics…cooking is fun once you learn how to do it. I've seen a French press in my first college because that was the only kind of coffee maker we were allowed, and Aunt Cass is quoting Shifu from the first Kung-Fu Panda there. Also Obake's allergic to penicillin because my Dad is—it's not the sort of thing that affects everyday life, but it's probably a contributing factor to Obake's general disdain for hospitals.

Also yeah you want to check eggs in a little bowl first for reasons, butter temperature does affect final product, and Aunt Cass is quoting a Foxtrot cartoon too. The advice with the dumplings apply to anything creative—you've got to get the junk ones out of the way before you start improving. Saying that…Obake is canonically left-handed and from experience nobody ever lets us handle knives or sharp objects if they can help it. Also rewatching the episode and Gogo is left-handed too so…yay left-handed people represent! :D

Also Obake shows up in "Issue 188" and doesn't make another appearance until "Failure Mode" about five episodes later so for the first half of Season One we barely see the man—so yes, his scheming doesn't kick into high gear until City Rises is showcased.

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

Obake spent most of the next day staking out SFAI and trying to figure out how to get into it without attracting attention and keeping his own skin-crawling to a minimum—he had standards, after all.

But he also needed to keep the attention-attracting to a minimum—thus, after scoping the place out, he retreated back to the café to finish up the next draft of his drone and look up the campus website.

This unfortunately coincided with Cass walking by and seeing what he was looking at.

"Are you going to apply to SFAI?" she asked, startling him.

"What—no why would I—"

"I mean yeah three for three on the nerd kids but SFAI has a great culinary arts degree—"

"Looking does not equate going I'm—keeping my options open," he managed to grind out, causing himself intense pain in doing so.

"Well that's a good idea—who knows, you might like one of the degrees there."

No he would not—scrub his head repeatedly and beg forgiveness of SFIT for allowing that to leave his mouth boy he hoped they wouldn't revoke his degree…oh wait he had never earned it. Pretty sure blowing up the campus had been an automatic fail.

But back to brass tacks—examining the schematics of the campus and hacking into their system with more venom than strictly necessary, mostly out of spite and to get that bloodcurdling thought out of his mind—gyeh. Didn't pay attention to the phone ringing or Cass answering until she called him over.

"Tadashi wants to talk to you?" she said, handing him the phone.

Huff, take it, watch as she went to check on whatever she was baking. "What do you want, Tadashi?"

"Is Hiro with you?"

No, and for that he was glad he did not need some kid teasing him for the SFAI thing. "No."

"Have you heard from him?"

"No. Why, did you lose him?"

"He and Fred went to Muirahara Woods to spy on Gogo like a couple of idiots—Gogo's back, they're not."

"My immediate answer is she killed them and hid their bodies."

"Mine too but when I asked her she was too realistically mad for me to believe it. Listen, stall Aunt Cass, don't let her get worked up, we're going hunting for them."

Oh brother—hang up when Tadashi signed off, try to think if this was worth getting worried about. Yes there was something about Muirahara Woods that made technology go screwy, he had tried sending hardened drones in before to no avail, didn't dare risk going in himself because of the SK in his face. Hiro and Fred must have survived this before, considering they were around to cause problems for him later on…but then again that was the original timeline and he had been busy editing this one and dangit maybe he should be paying more attention to what Fred was saying and that galled him to even think that.

"So what did Tadashi want with you?" Cass asked, coming over to put the dinner rolls into the counter cabinets.

Okay—best lies were always buried in truths. "Oh the usual, trying to pressure me into SFIT, being annoying…oh, he told me to tell you that he, Hiro, and his college buddies were going to one of the Muirahara Trails and they'd be a little late."

"Really?" she asked, tipping her head. "It's kind of late to be walking a trail—they say why?"

"I was afraid to ask, I figured he'd turn it around to another dig about me doing something productive with my life." Like he had any idea. Granted, telling anyone he was doing his best to stop himself was going to send him to the asylum, so it was probably for the best.

"Well you do need to do something productive," she said, straightening up and tucking the empty tray under her arm. "Like, an associates degree at SFU, even."

And on the lists of ways his life had totally bottomed out…but he could use this to his advantage, keep her focus off the Hamada brothers. "Well…seeing as how I'm in this odd, directionless limbo…maybe you could teach me something about the culinary arts?"

"Wait what?" she asked, blinking.

"Well you did school a bunch of world-renowned chefs and earned a roomful of knives, you seem qualified."

"I mean I did do that," she mused. "Okay, I guess I can walk you through some stuff if you're interested—dinner rush is coming up but I think we can squeeze something in…and if you're good enough maybe then I have an assistant?"

"Splendid," he said, hoping that he was just smiling and not grimacing like he felt deep deep down. "Let's get started then."

So. If anyone asked, Obake would like to go on the record in saying he was an absolute disaster in the kitchen, which was insulting because it was basic chemistry this should be easy.

Instead he was forcibly reminded that for the majority of his life his cooking skills mostly extended to making coffee in a French press and heating ramen in the microwave. When he was feeling really adventurous, he'd try it on a hot plate.

Cass, of course, was competent enough to recognize his incompetence right away.

"Have you ever done any cooking in your life?" she asked, concerned.

"Does ramen and instant coffee count?"

"Maybe if we're being generous. No Home Ec in high school?"

"No."

She sighed. "Okay, so apparently there's a lesson zero…cookies. Chocolate chip cookies, everyone should learn how those go—you're not allergic to anything, are you? Oh wait I should have asked that way earlier—"

"Nothing you would be serving," he assured her—mostly because people made it a habit of tossing food in the trash when it started growing penicillin. "Moving on."

"Right—moving on. Cookies."

This mostly involved showing him how to sift flour, crack eggs into a little bowl first, how soft the butter should be, etc., et al…did have to enjoy her measurement method for the chocolate chips, though.

"These you stir in by hand," she said. "You don't use a measuring cup, you measure these with your soul."

"Sounds imprecise," he observed.

"The only rule is you have to add some chocolate chips—chocolate chip cookies without chocolate chips are a crime against nature. Like, substitute M&M's or something but don't just put nothing in them."

He did manage to talk her into making one like that, mostly out of curiosity and arguing that no scientific advancement was made without risk. Don't forget to set the timer, not setting the timer led to burnt cookies, oven was preheated, it was very difficult to ruin something when you followed the recipe, she assured him. Walked him through all sorts of different prep work while they baked, making sure he was set before attending to some early arrivals, checked the cookies when the buzzer went off, put the second batch in while the first batch cooled, started walking him through making potstickers.

"The thing with any stuffed dumpling is finding your rhythm," she told him, showing how she pinched the dough shut. "Fried potsticker—steamed soup dumpling," she said, doing a different one to show how she filled and closed it differently. "Don't worry if it looks ugly, you have to get the ugly ones out of the way before you learn how to make pretty ones."

Honestly, he doubted this very much, considering he kept tearing the dough and it kept sticking to him—she stopped him before he got too frustrated, told him to flour up his hands and walked him through where he was going wrong, next batch didn't tear so badly.

And he did have to admit, focusing on this, focusing on making this turn out right or not burning that or cutting that and not his fingers, kept him from thinking of the bigger issues so badly. Right now he had these tiny issues that he was trying to conquer, with her intervening and talking him through it whenever it started getting frustrating. On the one hand, he sometimes wanted to yell at her for not letting him struggle he could get this, darnit—would always swallow that impulse because he remembered Momakase and knew better than to anger a chef.

On the other hand…the last time someone did anything like this with him had been Professor Granville, back when he was still attending SFIT, when he was this age for real. It was strangely cozy, comforting…triumphant when he was finally looking at things that he had made, warm hands squeezing his shoulders in pride as their owner told him how great he did….

He had missed this, he surprised himself by realizing.

"Okay," she said after their moment of silence, sitting with him at a little table once rush hour was over and there was enough of a lull to sit and eat. Pushed a plate with two potstickers on it towards him. "One of mine, one of yours. Taste them and tell me the difference."

Arch an eyebrow at her, not quite buying what she was selling…did humor her finally.

"Well?" she prompted when he finished.

Hesitate…sigh, dip his head a little. "There wasn't any difference."

"No there wasn't. The difference between mine and yours is just in appearance, that's because I've been doing this a lot longer, and anything you practice a lot you'll get better at. You just need to keep trying," she said, dipping a potsticker into some yum-yum sauce she had him make from a recipe (a very frustrating recipe with no exact measurements that had the basic rule of well taste it and see if it needs more of something). "Once you get really good at cooking you start wanting to experiment, but at the very least you won't starve to death now."

He hadn't been starving to death before…probably risking malnourishment before Momakase started making his meals, but not starving to death. Poke at one of the potstickers, debating—

"Oh wait I almost forgot," she said, getting up—left him in confusion, returned with a couple plates of cookies. "Your experiment."

Ah right, the chocolate-chip-less cookie sitting there next to the fully-loaded one. In comparison it did look a bit sad. Look up at her when she sat back down. "You seem experienced at dealing with rank amateurs in your kitchen."

"Well I've been raising the boys for ten years, they've had more than one day where they wanted to be helpful but had no idea how to do so, I had to learn really quick to monitor activity in the kitchen." Glance at the clock. "They should be getting home soon, you'd think—did they give an idea of when they'd be back? Maybe we should try the cell."

Ah right, the reason he had engaged in this to begin with. "Cell phones don't work in Muirahara Woods," he pointed out. "And I'm sure they're fine."

"I don't know, there's bears in the woods…."

"They brought Gogo with them, I'd feel more sorry for the bear."

Cass looked like she wanted to argue the point—looked up when the bell chimed—sagged with visible relief. "Oh good you're back! How was your hike?"

"I HATE NATURE," Hiro declared loudly—Obake had to stifle a laugh at the sight of them when he turned. Hiro, Tadashi and Baymax were all coated in mud and leaves and looked like they had done what Cass had feared and wrestled a bear. "Everything smells and gets everywhere gnats are evil and there's some crazy hermit in the woods with a meteor I AM NEVER LISTENING TO FRED AGAIN."

"Wait what?" Cass asked blankly.

"Hiro and nature didn't commune well," Tadashi announced. "Want us to hose off out back?"

"If you don't mind—get in here after you get cleaned up we made dinner."

They exchanged blank looks once the trio had left, Obake breaking first.

"I am so glad I didn't go," he said, snickering.

"I would love to know what that was all about," Cass said, looking like she was doing her best to keep her mirth in. "Lemme go mop that up real quick I don't want someone walking through that mud."

He snickered into his tea as she left, feeling oddly warm—this, this here…strangely, this worked. It felt like home, like someplace he wanted to stay, something he wanted dearly. This insanity that was his life wasn't so bad, if more days could be like this past afternoon.

Cold flooded him as reality sank back in. This, this cozy little café, was one of the things he had been so blasé about destroying. Was still planning on destroying, in some iteration. All this, the wonderful warm feeling it made, gone in a snap because he wanted the whole city torn back to the studs…because he hadn't bothered to learn the merits of the little things.

And his conversation with Fred, that had ended so sour…in order to ensure all this went on…well, he wouldn't be here to enjoy it.

Don't get attached, he reminded himself. Don't get comfortable. None of this is yours—you threw it all away and your punishment is seeing what could have been—

Started at the touch to his shoulder, looked up at Cass looking at him with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked him. "You got kind of broody looking all of a sudden."

"Just thinking." Couldn't tell her what about, would have to be just one of the numerous things he'd have to take to his grave.

Very soon.

Wasn't sure what to make of her brushing his bangs out of his face—couldn't bring himself to style his hair back like he had always worn, reminding himself of the life he had thrown away in his defeat—

"You'll be fine," she told him. "Not everyone knows exactly what they want out of life—sometimes you have to bang around a little until you figure it out."

But I did know—I knew exactly what I wanted and when it was denied me it crushed me so thoroughly—I had so fixated on that one thing that losing it made me….

No. No no one had made him do that…he had chosen it and was now regretting it deeply with every heartbeat he had in this impossible body. None of this…he deserved none of this, least of all her kindness. Tried to force a smile when she gave him one of those sideways hugs, watched as she fixed several coffees for customers that had come in—

"Oh come on," she griped at the expresso machine when it conked out. "Sorry—I asked the boys to fix it but they're busy with college—"

"I can fix it."

She blinked, looked at him. "It's the one thing in that kitchen I know I'm good at," he told her, managing a weak smile.

She returned it, happy without the weight of two timelines on her—managed to get it working with some percussive maintenance so she could serve the rest of the customers. He just sat there, picking at dinner and staring at this setting. Quaint, cozy, calm…the sort of thing he had always sneered at. Nothing about it had been desirable in his books.

And yet now, having to reevaluate his life, his decisions…he wanted it badly.

He had to defeat himself to keep it.

Okay, think—originally there were no other moves to make outside of monitoring Big Hero Six until City Rises was discovered and showcased—was pretty sure he still had some time there, so he had time to plan…plus Globby was out, that was important, there was no Globby to steal the painting and no hero team to test and prod.

The amplifier, the painting, and the journal—rendered down those were the three big things he had to keep his original self from getting. The dynamo…hmm, that was probably most likely a wild card piece, he had stolen it towards the endgame, if there was no journal nor painting he could afford to not worry about it…ugh he'd have to call Fred tomorrow to iron this out he was not looking forward to this—

Snapped out of his musings by the Hamada brothers flopping down at the table, freshly cleaned and wearing new clothes.

"So this looks good," Tadashi observed after their moment of silence.

"This was part of the keeping your aunt busy bit," Obake said. "Do I dare ask how it went?"

"NO," Hiro insisted. "I am never going out into the wilderness again NATURE SUCKS I hate it bugs get everywhere there's moose and bears and some crazy hermit named Ned who loves a rock and hates technology."

"Yes I heard that earlier and I'm going to need it explained to me."

Tadashi leaned a bit to check if Cass was still preoccupied, started explaining about some recluse named Ned Ludd that Obake thought he might have remembered from when he was actually this age—some real estate guy—

Cut off when he spotted Hiro with the plate of cookies. "Hiro no—eat dinner first."

"Excuse you I had a TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE I TOTALLY deserve cookies first," Hiro protested.

Tadashi looked like he dearly wanted to argue the point but knew he had no standing. Sighed, looked back at Obake. "So. Apparently all these years ago this meteor falls out of the sky and Ned figured it saved his life so he became some sort of Tom Hankusu Castaway sort of hermit and named the meteor Bessie—"

"So thus far this is only reinforcing my relief at not joining you," Obake observed drily.

"Yeah well—turns out Bessie makes all the tech malfunction in the woods so on our way to find Hiro and Fred who were in Ned's treehouse—"

"Having to deal with the story snake," Hiro muttered around a big mouthful of cookie.

"We're having to run down Baymax who totally short-circuited and if it weren't for Gogo that bear would have been a huge problem—"

Was cut off by Hiro sputtering and spitting a mouthful of cookie out, looking at the other half of it with disgust.

Cass came over. "What? What's wrong?"

Hiro held up the half a cookie. "What kind of affront to nature IS this cookie!?"

Obake and Cass both looked—realized Hiro had gotten a hold of Obake's experimental cookie. Met her I told you so look with a bland one.

"Seeing as how I didn't actually sample the experiment, we're going to have to conduct it again," he told her.

She shrugged. "Well I never say no to more cookies."

"WHY would you ruin a perfectly good cookie like this?" Hiro demanded.

"It's called a scientific experiment," Obake said, unable to resist the jab. "You should try them sometime, very fun."

Hiro sulked for the rest of the night, but that was probably from a combination of all the sucky things Tadashi was listing. At the very least, Obake was cemented in his decision to never visit the woods.

Announcing this later, Hiro was fully in agreement.