"It's okay that you don't know how to cook, especially since you're so young." Mitsuhide looks older, like an adult, though Zen isn't entirely sure if his first consistent aide can be considered serious looking when he's wearing an apron overtop his knight uniform like this is perfectly normal.
"I don't see why cooking is in my best interest." Zen crosses his arms over his chest; he's all of thirteen and while not being one that is normally in the kitchen, he's a prince anyway.
"You never know when you'd end up in a survival situation and would need to cook for yourself." Mitsuhide is sure stubborn, and Zen isn't all that interested anyway.
"But that's where you come in." He might be a little over the top, but he's thirteen and it comes with the territory, especially since his best friend isn't of noble birth, and he's found himself stuck with an aide that he never completely loses track of.
"It's good for you to know," Mitsuhide sighs like he's aged a hundred years in the span of a few seconds, "I'll do the cutting and chopping; we're making a hearty soup, one that has helped countless knights before. You can put it all in the pot on the stove."
"Okay." And Zen might be a little young, but he kind of wishes Mitsuhide would let him do more if he's going to be stuck in a kitchen with him after all. "But I can use a sword, why can't I use a knife?"
"It's my job to protect you." Mitsuhide sighs, but he gets everything cut up soon enough, and Zen actually gets to help him soon.
And then, Zen isn't quite sure how it happens or why it happens. But the broth and the vegetables and the meat are all happily in the pot when it catches on fire. Flame leaps up from the center of the pot, and Zen just stares it down with a look of shock.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." Mitsuhide grabs the pot off the stove, turns the heat off entirely, and throws the now unsalvageable almost soup away.
And while he's distracted, Zen slips out the door in search of much more fun company.