The Fox and The Devil: Ficlets

Kitchen Mayhem

Mayhem (noun): violent or damaging disorder; chaos. [Oxford Languages]

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Some people seek comfort in the calming ambience of a coffee shop, while some other took refuge in the comfort of their home. Vox Akuma, despite being an extrovert, belonged to the latter category. The handsome bachelor thought of his home—his kitchen, to be exact—to be his sanctuary. Because of his interest in the culinary arts, he had curated only the finest cooking utensils, costing him quite a fortune. Little did he know, an imminent danger to his small haven is approaching, in a form of a certain fox.

Ding, dong.

Vox hurriedly went to his front door. After all, he was expecting someone.

"Vox!!!"

A cheery voice greeted Vox. Standing in front of him, was a pale boy in his late teen, sporting a pink oversized sweater and a pair of white shorts. A glint of mischief, however, was apparent in the boy's fox-like, turquoise eyes.

"Hey, Mysta, come in." A smile was heard in Vox's voice, as he ruffled the younger man's head. Mysta engulfed Vox in a bear hug as a reply. There was less than a decade difference between the two men, since Vox and his older sister—Mysta's mom—had a huge age gap. Nina had practically raised Vox and Mysta together, as if both were her sons. The uncle-and-nephew pair grew up almost like brothers.

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"So, what make you want to learn cooking from me, Mysta?" Vox asked, as the two men walked to his kitchen.

"Well, I'm planning to move out soon, and I reckon, cooking is a pretty basic survival skill, yeah?" Mysta murmured shyly, averting his eyes from Vox, clearly hiding something.

The older man, however, didn't notice the first sign of danger.

"What about Nina?"

"Mom is a little... busy," Mysta trailed off.

Again, Vox failed to recognize the imminent danger. He should have known that something was wrong when his fox-like sister refused to teach her own son how to cook. Vox was too blinded by the excitement: the thought that his favourite nephew was suddenly interest in his passion, cooking.

"Alright, what do you want to learn?" Vox asked, when the two of them had enter his kitchen. The black and red room was accented with several mirrors and glasses, giving it a minimalist, yet modernistic look. Luxurious stoves and ovens were built into the black, granite worktop, while most of the other appliances were hidden in large cabinets. Instead of a dining table, a small red pub table complimented with several oak tall stools were placed at one corner of the room. 

"Well, the basics, I guess?" Mysta scratched his head.

Vox raised his eyebrows. "Have you ever make anything?"

Mysta lighted up at the question. "Oh! I have made fried rice before and it was quite good!"

A small upward curve was formed at the corner of Vox's lips. "Show me what you got, then. I have some left over rice in the fridge and you can get the frying pan from that cabinet."

Mysta nodded eagerly.

Vox sat down on an oak stool and crossed his arms in front of his chest. A small, proud smile creeped on his lips. His little fox had grown up. It felt like yesterday he had been helping Nina to change Mysta's diapers, but now the boy was about to move out from his parents' house.