Naruto-ReBorn as a Baker

Chapter 235: The Frigid Fortress and Toasty Determination

The kitchen of Haido's fortress was a stark contrast to the rest of the cold, imposing structure, much do to the efforts of Malik. Warm lights cast a golden glow over polished countertops and rows of gleaming utensils. The hum of machinery softened into a steady background rhythm, blending with the faint crackle of oil in a skillet.

Malik stood at the center of this culinary haven, humming a soft tune as he worked. He had tied a black apron over his finely tailored outfit, the juxtaposition of luxury and practicality oddly charming. His hands moved with practiced ease, slicing vegetables and tossing them into a sizzling pan. The aroma of garlic, herbs, and spices filled the air, a comforting presence in an otherwise unfeeling fortress.

Behind him, the sound of measured footsteps broke the quiet. Malik didn't need to turn to know who it was. He had been expecting her.

"Fugai," he said without looking up, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Fugai hesitated in the doorway, her violet eyes scanning the scene. She looked out of place in the warm kitchen, her aggressive demeanor clashing with the tranquil environment. Yet there was a hint of unease in her posture, as though she had spent the day wrestling with her thoughts.

"I… wanted to talk," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual.

Malik turned to face her, his expression softening. "Of course. But first, let me cook you something. You look like you could use a good meal."

Fugai blinked, clearly unprepared for his response. "I didn't come here to eat," she said, her tone defensive.

Malik chuckled, gesturing to a stool near the counter. "Then think of it as fuel for the conversation. Sit. Let me take care of you."

For a moment, Fugai seemed ready to argue, but something in Malik's demeanor—a mix of confidence and genuine warmth—disarmed her. She sighed and took the seat, her armor creaking softly as she settled in.

Malik returned to his cooking, adding a pinch of seasoning to the pan before glancing over his shoulder. "You've been thinking about what I said earlier."

Fugai stiffened, her hands resting on the counter. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm loyal to Lord Haido, as I told you before."

"Of course," Malik said easily, flipping the contents of the skillet with a practiced motion. "But even the most loyal knight needs to reflect on their path every now and then. That's not betrayal; it's wisdom."

Fugai narrowed her eyes, but there was no malice in her gaze—only curiosity and a hint of frustration. "You talk as if you know me, Malik. As if you understand what I want."

"I don't claim to know everything," Malik replied, plating the dish with a flourish. "But I see potential in you. Strength, intelligence, determination. Qualities that could lead you anywhere you choose to go."

He placed the plate in front of her: a perfectly cooked filet of fish, surrounded by a medley of colorful vegetables and drizzled with a rich, fragrant sauce. The presentation was impeccable, a work of art on a plate.

Fugai stared at the dish, her expression unreadable. "You're bold, I'll give you that," she muttered, picking up the fork he had set beside it.

"Boldness is a necessity in my line of work," Malik said, leaning casually against the counter. "As is understanding people. You came here because something I said struck a chord. You don't have to admit it, but I know it's true."

Fugai took a bite of the food, her movements deliberate. The moment the flavors hit her tongue, her eyes widened slightly—a subtle but undeniable sign of approval.

"I came here because I wanted to understand you," she said after a moment, her tone guarded. "You're not like the others in this fortress. You don't follow Haido blindly, and yet you're here. Why?"

Malik's smile deepened, a glint of mischief in his dark pink eyes. "I think all 3 of you asked me that same question but to answer your question Because I see opportunities where others see walls. Haido's fortress, his knights, his vision—they're all part of a larger game. And I intend to win."

Fugai set down her fork, her gaze sharp. "You think you can outmaneuver Haido? He's not a man to be trifled with."

"I don't trifle," Malik replied, his voice calm but firm. "I strategize. And I adapt. Haido's strength is undeniable, but strength alone doesn't win wars. Understanding people does. Their dreams, their fears, their desires."

Fugai leaned back slightly, studying him. "And what is it you think I desire?"

Malik met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Freedom. Not from Haido, necessarily, but from the chains of expectation. The chance to forge your own path, on your own terms."

For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Then Fugai stood, her violet eyes locking onto his.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Malik," she said, her voice low. "But you'd better be careful. If you're wrong about me, it could cost you everything."

Malik's grin returned, his confidence unshaken. "Then I'll just have to make sure I'm right."

Fugai hesitated, her expression a mix of frustration and intrigue, before turning and started walking out of the kitchen. Malik watched her go, his mind already spinning with the next steps of his plan.

The seeds of doubt had taken root, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they began to grow.

Malik leaned casually against the counter, a sly grin playing on his lips as he retrieved a delicate pastry from a nearby tray. It was one of his specialties—a golden tart filled with a rich, spiced custard and topped with caramelized fruit. The sweet aroma wafted through the warm kitchen, tantalizing even the most reluctant of appetites.

"Before you go," he said, sliding the tart toward Fugai, "you should try this. It's my pièce de résistance."

Fugai's violet eyes narrowed as she eyed the dessert warily. She pushed it gently away, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn't come here to eat, Malik."

Malik feigned a look of mock surprise, his hand fluttering dramatically to his chest. "The first time anyone has ever turned down my cooking. I might faint."

Fugai rolled her eyes but smirked despite herself. "You can wrap it up for me later," she said, her tone softening. "I won't deny that you're good at what you do, but that's not why I'm here."

Malik's grin widened as he leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. "Fair enough. So, what brings you here, Fugai? What do you want to do now?"

She gave him an incredulous look, gesturing vaguely to their surroundings. "We're in a mobile fortress that's currently moving through hostile territory. It's the middle of the night. What could we possibly do?"

Malik tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "The Land of Earth is beautiful at night. Rugged terrain, starlit skies… But if that's not your speed, I'm open to suggestions. Something freeing, no holds barred. Forget what Haido or anyone else might think—what do you want to do?"

Fugai blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his question. She shifted in her seat, her armor creaking softly. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious," Malik replied, his tone warm but insistent. "This moment is yours, Fugai. No rules, no expectations. Just tell me what would make you feel… alive."

Fugai stared at him, her aggressive demeanor faltering as uncertainty flickered across her face. She was a woman of action, driven by loyalty and duty, but Malik's words struck a chord she hadn't expected.

After a long pause, she leaned forward slightly, her violet eyes narrowing with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. "What if I want to spar?"

Malik's grin turned mischievous. "Then we spar. But I warn you—I'm not one to hold back."

Fugai smirked, her confidence returning in full force. "Good. I wouldn't respect you if you did."

{Malik in his mind: "What is it with these women who want to fight? I flirt, and then they say, 'Okay, let's spar now.' I'm a very soft and short man. My love handles can't handle all this tension!"}

The ''tension'' in the room shifted, charged with anticipation. Malik could see the spark of excitement in Fugai's gaze, the kind of fire that came alive when she was faced with a challenge.

"Let's make it interesting," Malik said, stepping toward the door and gesturing for her to follow. "We'll take it outside—under the stars. No weapons, just skill."

Fugai stood, her armor catching the light as she squared her shoulders. "You're either brave or foolish, Malik."

"Maybe both," he quipped, holding the door open for her. "But one thing's for sure—I don't back down."

Together, they stepped into the cool, dimly lit corridor, their footsteps echoing in unison. The fortress hummed softly around them as they made their way toward an open training area.

For the first time in a long while, Fugai felt a flicker of something beyond duty—an eagerness that was all her own. And as she followed Malik into the night, she couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the enigmatic man had in store.

Malik walked next to her, his steps cautious and his eyes darting around nervously, but like always he hid it well. He could feel the tension in the air, and he knew he needed all the help he could get. With a deep breath, he began to pray to the twin Goddess of Love and Lust, who had sent him on this perilous journey.

"Oh, mighty twin Goddess of Love and Lust," Malik whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "I beseech thee, grant me your divine protection. These women, though fair in appearance, harbor intentions as sharp as a kunai. They seek to ensnare me in their web of deceit and treachery."

He glanced over at the woman, she was chatting and laughing, seemingly oblivious to his plight. Malik continued his prayer, his voice growing more fervent. "Goddesses, you who embody the duality of passion and desire, shield me from their cunning ways. Let your love guide my steps and your lustful energy empower my resolve."

Malik's eyes widened as he saw her, one of the "women" glance in his direction, a sly smile playing on her lips. He quickened his pace, his prayer becoming more desperate. "Please, oh divine ones, do not let me fall victim to their charms. I am but a humble servant, seeking only to fulfill your will. Protect me from their wiles and grant me the strength to resist their allure."

He could feel the woman's eyes on him, their gazes like daggers piercing his soul. Malik's heart raced, and he clutched his chest dramatically. "Oh, twin Goddess of Love and Lust, hear my plea! Do not let me be swayed by their honeyed words and beguiling smiles. Grant me the wisdom to see through their deceptions and the courage to stand firm in the face of their advances."

As he finished his prayer, Malik cast a hopeful glance skyward, as if expecting a divine intervention at any moment. "The women", now fully aware of his discomfort, exchanged amused glances and continued their conversation, clearly enjoying his predicament.

Malik sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Well, it seems the goddesses have a sense of humor," he muttered under his breath. "I suppose I'll just have to rely on my wits and charm to survive this ordeal."

With a final, silent plea to the twin Goddess of Love and Lust, Malik squared his shoulders and prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead, determined to prove that he was more than just a pawn in their game.

The training grounds outside or the emity enough area they could call a training ground outside the fortress shimmered under the silver glow of moonlight. The air was brisk, carrying with it the faint rustle of the mobile fortress's machinery as it rumbled across the rugged terrain of the Land of Earth. The sparring session had been anything but leisurely, and now, the results lay sprawled across the cold ground.

Malik groaned softly, his face pressed against the dirt, his once-pristine outfit drenched in sweat. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body heavy and uncooperative. Every muscle screamed in protest, a testament to the thorough beating Fugai had delivered.

Fugai stood over him, stretching her arms with casual ease. Her armor had been cast aside during the spar, leaving her in a sleek, form-fitting bodysuit that accentuated her powerful frame. Her light brown hair, once tied neatly, now hung loosely around her face, framing her flushed cheeks and the triumphant smile she wore.

She bent slightly at the waist, peering down at Malik with mock concern. "I have to say, Malik," she began, a teasing lilt in her voice, "hitting you really did wonders for my mood."

Malik let out a low groan, his hand weakly waving her off. "Glad… I could be… of service," he managed between gasps, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Fugai chuckled, her laugh soft and surprisingly warm. She stepped closer, nudging him lightly with her boot. "You're not dead, are you? That would be disappointing. I was just starting to enjoy this."

Malik rolled onto his back, his hot pink eyes squinting up at her. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but notice the way the moonlight danced on her bodysuit, accentuating the lines of her muscular physique. He swallowed hard, suddenly acutely aware of their proximity.

"I think… you've officially cured me of any illusions about sparring with you being a good idea," he quipped, forcing a weak grin.

Fugai raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching upward. "Oh, come on. You lasted longer than I expected. Most wouldn't dare challenge me, let alone hold their own for as long as you did."

Malik propped himself up on his elbows, wincing slightly. "That's… high praise coming from you." He paused, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than he intended. The combination of her relaxed posture, the soft amusement in her violet eyes, and the flush of exertion on her cheeks painted a picture of someone far more human—and far more intriguing—than the fierce knight he had imagined.

Noticing his lingering stare, Fugai smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "What? Are you admiring the view now?"

Malik coughed, turning his head away as a faint blush crept up his neck. "Just… appreciating the moonlight," he said quickly, though his sheepish tone betrayed him.

Fugai laughed, the sound rich and genuine. She crouched beside him, her expression softening. "You're something else, Malik. I can't decide if you're brave, stupid, or just a glutton for punishment."

"Why not all three?" Malik offered with a tired smile.

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the tension of their sparring session replaced by an unexpected camaraderie. Malik couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment—not just for surviving the bout, but for chipping away at the walls Fugai had built around herself.

Fugai stood abruptly, extending a hand to him. "Come on, strategist. You can't stay on the ground all night. Let's get you cleaned up before you catch a cold."

Malik stared at her hand for a moment before taking it, her grip firm but not overpowering as she helped him to his feet. He swayed slightly, still unsteady, but her presence grounded him.

As they walked back toward the fortress, Fugai glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "For what it's worth, you're not half bad, Malik. Maybe next time, you'll actually land a hit."

Malik chuckled, his voice still tinged with exhaustion. "Next time, I'll have a plan."

"We'll see about that," Fugai replied, her smile lingering as they disappeared into the fortress's warm glow.

Though his body ached and his pride was bruised, Malik couldn't deny the spark of connection that had formed between them.

Malik took a deep breath, steadying himself as he sat on the air a more relaxed look now on his face, Fugai standing a few feet away. The moonlight from the high windows highlighted the sheen of sweat still clinging to her skin. Her presence, commanding and unapologetically raw, filled the room like a force of nature.

"Fugai," Malik began softly, his voice breaking the silence. "Have you ever wanted to be loved? Or… do you wish for it now?"

Fugai froze, her violet eyes locking onto his with an intensity that could have knocked him flat if he weren't already floating. She crossed her arms, her jaw tightening as she considered his question. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the fortress's engines.

"That's… a bold question," she said finally, her tone guarded. "Love is a luxury, Malik. One I never had the time or freedom for."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze unwavering. "And now? Do you wish for it, even if only in some small way?"

Fugai's arms dropped to her sides, her posture stiff but her expression thoughtful. "You speak of love as if it's something simple. It's not. Love complicates things. It clouds judgment. And yet…" She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I can't deny that seeing it—the way you give it so freely to Kamira and Ranke—stirs something in me. They won't stop talking about you, you know. How you make them feel, both emotionally and… physically."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she scowled as if annoyed at her own admission. "It's infuriating. They're like lovesick fools, and yet… I can't ignore the way it seems to change them. The way it changes you."

Malik smiled softly, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Rising to his feet, he waved a hand over himself, his pink magic shimmering like dust in the air. The dirt and sweat vanished, leaving him as clean and pristine as if the sparring session had never happened.

He stepped closer to Fugai, tilting his head back to meet her gaze—she was taller than him, and the difference in their heights made his approach all the more intimate. "May I?" he asked, his voice low, his hand hovering near her face.

Fugai blinked, her eyes narrowing briefly in suspicion, but she nodded after a moment of hesitation. Malik placed a hand gently on her cheek, his palm warm against her skin. She stiffened at first but didn't pull away, her violet eyes searching his.

"Your skin," Malik said, his tone almost reverent. "It's so soft… unexpected for someone who has endured so much. You've taken lives, walked through hellish battlefields, and followed Lord Haido with unwavering resolve. And yet, here you are, still human. Still... deserving."

Fugai's breath hitched, but she held his gaze, her expression unreadable.

"I believe," Malik continued, his thumb brushing against her cheek, "that everyone needs love in some form. It doesn't have to be physical. It doesn't have to be sex or romance. But it does have to reach the heart. Everyone deserves to feel valued, cherished, and understood—even you."

Her eyes softened, her defenses wavering. He stepped closer, his words a gentle caress. "Ranke and Kamira—they're incredible, each in their own way. Beautiful, strong, and unique, just like you. But you… you have your own charm, Fugai. A fire that burns brighter than most. I hope that one day, you'll let me closer. I want to reach that heart of yours."

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions. Then Malik felt it—a sudden heat radiating from Fugai's body, her violet eyes darkening with something primal, something undeniable.

He recognized it instantly: lust, raw and intense. A knowing smile crept onto his lips, and he held her gaze, unflinching. "I see it now," he murmured, his voice rich with understanding. "That heat in your eyes. It's not love… not yet. But it's something. So tell me, Fugai—what is it you want from me? You can ask without pressure, without shame."

Fugai's lips parted, her breathing shallow as she wrestled with her emotions. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, teetering on the edge of something neither had fully anticipated. For the first time, Fugai felt the freedom to choose—not as a knight, not as Haido's follower, but as herself.

Fugai's violet eyes burned with intensity, her breath coming faster as she leaned closer to Malik. The flicker of hesitation that had marked her moments earlier was gone, replaced by something primal and truly undeniable. Her hands clenched at her sides before relaxing, her shoulders squaring as if she had reached a decision.

"You want me to be myself?" she asked, her voice low, the edges of her words sharp as a blade. "You want me to forget about Haido, about loyalty, about duty—for now? Fine. Then don't blame me for what happens next."

Malik blinked, startled by the shift in her tone, but he didn't step back. Instead, he held her gaze, letting her words sink in. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said softly.

Fugai's lips twisted into a smirk, her violet eyes blazing as she stepped closer, the heat of her body almost tangible. "You've given me a taste of freedom, Malik. And if I'm going to be myself, then I'll tell you exactly what I want."

She reached out, her hand gripping the front of his finely tailored vest. Malik froze, his breath catching as she pulled him toward her. Her strength was undeniable, but there was no malice in her movements—only determination. Her other hand came up to cup his jaw, her fingers rough yet careful as they traced his cheek.

"I don't care about later," she said, her voice a fierce whisper. "I don't care about what I might feel or think tomorrow. All I care about is right now. And right now, I want you. Not some half-hearted version of you, not the strategist hiding behind pretty words. I want the man who stood up to me, who looked me in the eye and said I was worth something."

Malik swallowed hard, his dark pink eyes wide as her words hit him with the force of a hurricane. "Fugai—"

She cut him off, her smirk widening. "You told me to say what I wanted, didn't you? To be myself? Well, this is me, Malik. And this is what I want."

Her grip on his vest loosened, her hand sliding down to rest against his chest. The heat of her touch seemed to seep through the fabric, igniting a fire in his core. "I want you to stop playing games," she continued, her voice softening but losing none of its intensity. "Stop pretending like you're just here to pass the time. You see me, don't you? The real me. So stop dancing around it."

Malik took a deep breath, his pulse pounding in his ears. He'd encountered fiery personalities before, but Fugai's raw, unfiltered passion was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He placed his hands gently on her arms, his touch grounding them both as he looked up into her eyes.

"I see you," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "And I want to understand you. All of you. But this isn't just about what I want, Fugai. It's about what you need."

She tilted her head, her smirk fading as his words sank in. For a moment, the vulnerability returned, flickering like a candle in the wind. But she didn't pull away.

"What I need," she echoed, her tone quieter now. "You think you know what that is?"

"I think everyone needs to feel seen," Malik replied, his thumbs brushing against her skin. "To feel like they matter. Like they're not just a weapon or a tool, but a person worth fighting for. And if that's what you want… then I'll give it to you."

The heat in Fugai's eyes didn't fade, but it softened, mingling with something deeper—something closer to understanding. She stepped back, releasing his vest but not breaking their connection.

"You're either the bravest man I've ever met," she said, her voice low and almost teasing, "or the stupidest. Either way, you've got my attention."

Malik smiled, his confidence returning in full force. "Then I must be doing something right."

Fugai huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she turned toward the door. "We'll see. But don't think this is over, Malik. You've opened a door, and I intend to walk through it."

He watched her go, the heat of her presence lingering even after she disappeared into the corridor. His chest felt lighter, but his mind buzzed with the weight of what had just transpired. Fugai was a force to be reckoned with, but beneath her fiery exterior, he had glimpsed something rare and precious: trust.

And he wasn't about to let it go.