SAO: Strawberry Bunny

Warning: To the readers who read and/or watched SAO, this chapter will not be following the actual mechanics involving professions such as blacksmithing, cooking/baking, or fishing. I wished to make the profession process to be more life-like, instead of SAO's make-a-cheese-burger-in-seconds process.

After her accidental adventure into the lagoon, Strawberry returned to Aruyt with Muffin nestled comfortably in her hood. The little rabbit had clearly enjoyed the break, even if it meant getting his fur wet. As she settled back into the small inn she and Quinella had been using as their temporary base, Strawberry found herself itching to do something different. She had spent countless hours training and battling, pushing her skills and body to their limits. Now, with only two days left in their agreed-upon break time, she wanted to try something completely new.

That something, as it turned out, was baking.

With a newfound determination, Strawberry made her way to the Aruyt library. The library was nothing short of enchanting. It was a sanctuary of peace, nestled high in the treetops of Aruyt. The living wood of the tree formed its walls and shelves, creating an organic yet structured space that invited exploration and study. As Strawberry wandered through the rows of shelves, her mask hiding her growing curiosity, the cool, sap-scented air seemed to wrap around her like a comforting cloak. Muffin peeked out from her hood, his nose twitching at the unfamiliar smells.

When she reached the main desk, her gaze met that of the librarian, Lythen. The Faune librarian exuded elegance and wisdom, her tall form a perfect fit for her surroundings. Her fur-covered ears twitched slightly, catching every subtle sound in the quiet library. The golden light filtering through the canopy above reflected in her warm bronze skin and intelligent golden eyes, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

"Yes?" Lythen asked, her voice soft but carrying an authority that commanded respect.

"I'm looking for beginner recipes," Strawberry said, slightly adjusting her posture as she spoke, feeling as though she were addressing a teacher.

Lythen tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "For cooking or baking?" she inquired, her long fingers resting on the edge of the desk.

"Baking," Strawberry clarified. "Something simple to start with."

The faintest smile curved Lythen's lips. "You'll find what you need on the second floor," she said, her melodic voice lilting slightly. "Look for the green-bound books in the Cooking and Baking section. Flour and Flames: A Beginner's Guide to Baking should be particularly helpful for you. It's straightforward and includes illustrations to guide you."

Strawberry nodded her thanks, feeling an odd sense of gratitude toward the graceful librarian. As she turned to ascend the spiral staircase, she heard Lythen add, "Good luck. Baking requires patience and care—qualities I'm sure you possess."

On the second floor, Strawberry quickly located the Cooking and Baking section. The shelves here were smaller and more accessible, lined with colorful spines that hinted at the creativity their pages contained. The green-bound book Lythen had mentioned stood out almost immediately, its gold-embossed title catching the soft light of the crystals embedded in the library walls.

Flour and Flames: A Beginner's Guide to Baking was inviting and well-worn, a testament to how many readers had trusted it as their starting point. The cover depicted an assortment of baked goods—loaves of bread, pastries, and cookies—all glowing warmly amidst illustrated flames. Strawberry opened it and flipped through the pages, quickly finding sections on breads, cakes, and cookies. Detailed illustrations accompanied each recipe, showing every step in a way that even a beginner could understand.

One recipe caught her eye immediately: strawberry tarts. The vibrant illustration showed golden crusts filled with ruby-red strawberries, glistening with a sugary glaze. Muffin chirped softly, as if approving her choice.

"Strawberry tarts," she murmured, smirking at the coincidence. "Guess it's meant to be."

Tucking the book under her arm, she descended the staircase and glanced at Lythen, who gave her a small nod of approval. The Faune's serene expression almost seemed to hint at encouragement, and Strawberry couldn't help but feel a little more confident.

"Thanks," Strawberry said simply as she passed the desk.

Lythen's ears twitched, and she inclined her head. "May your patience and skill grow like the roots of this tree," she said softly, returning to her work.

As Strawberry stepped out of the library and into the bustling village of Aruyt, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. The baking endeavor wasn't just a way to pass the time—it was a challenge, a way to prove to herself that she could master something entirely new. With Muffin nestled comfortably in her hood and the green-bound book in her hands, she headed toward the inn, ready to dive into the world of baking.

The inn's kitchen had never seen so much commotion. Strawberry, standing at one of the counters, had somehow turned a simple baking session into a scene of mild chaos. Flour dusted her hair and clothes, giving her the appearance of a warrior who had been ambushed in a bread factory. Muffin sat nearby on a high stool, his little nose twitching furiously at the cacophony of scents wafting through the room. He seemed skeptical of the entire operation, his wide eyes silently judging every move Strawberry made.

The kitchen itself was cozy and functional, its counters and cabinets crafted from polished dark wood. A large window above the sink let in the golden light of the third-floor sunset, illuminating shelves stocked with jars of spices, dried herbs, and what appeared to be mismatched utensils. A few well-used pots hung from hooks on the wall, their surfaces gleaming faintly in the warm glow.

Strawberry squinted at the green-bound cookbook she'd propped up on the counter. The illustrations were charming but vague, and the instructions were written in what could only be described as a mix of Faune poetry and riddles.

"'Mix the dough until it feels like a newborn cloud,'" she read aloud, frowning. "What the hell does that even mean?"

Muffin chirped in what sounded suspiciously like laughter. He hopped closer, his tiny paw nudging the bowl of flour as if to say, Figure it out, genius.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" Strawberry shot him a look, though her lips twitched in amusement. "Just wait. You're not getting any if it turns out good."

Muffin tilted his head, his innocent expression practically screaming, We both know you'll share.

With a resigned sigh, Strawberry rolled up her sleeves. "Alright, let's do this."

The first task was to mix the crust dough. Easy enough, right? Wrong. Strawberry quickly learned that the phrase "cutting butter into flour" was not as simple as it sounded. The butter refused to cooperate, clumping together like a rebellious gang. She stabbed at it with a fork, muttering under her breath about how she'd rather be fighting goblins.

Muffin watched with rapt attention, occasionally chirping as if offering unhelpful advice. At one point, he tried to nudge a sugar jar closer to her, only to knock it over, sending a fine white cloud into the air. Strawberry coughed, waving her hand to disperse it, and glared at Muffin.

"Really? You're supposed to be my sous chef, not a saboteur."

The rabbit blinked at her, utterly unrepentant.

Eventually, after much grumbling and flour-induced warfare, the dough began to resemble something workable. Strawberry rolled it out with a wooden pin she found hanging by the stove, though her technique was questionable at best. The dough tore in places and stuck to the counter in others, earning her a frustrated groan.

"This is harder than fighting the Wasp Queen," she muttered, throwing Muffin a look. "At least she didn't stick to the floor."

Muffin chirped and hopped onto a stool, peering at the dough as if evaluating her performance. His tiny nose twitched in a way that suggested he was unimpressed.

Finally, she managed to press the dough into tart molds, albeit unevenly. Some edges were too thick, others too thin, but Strawberry decided it gave them "character." Next came the filling: fresh strawberries she'd picked up from the local market that morning. She sliced them carefully, though a few pieces ended up less "sliced" and more "hacked."

"Close enough," she said, arranging the pieces in the tart shells. Muffin leaned in to sniff the fruit, but Strawberry gently nudged him back. "Not yet, buddy. Let me finish."

The recipe called for a glaze made of sugar, lemon juice, and cornstarch. Strawberry managed to mix it without too much trouble, though she accidentally spilled a bit on the counter. Muffin immediately hopped over to investigate, his tiny tongue darting out for a taste.

"Muffin!" Strawberry scooped him up before he could dive face-first into the sugary mess. "You're going to end up in a sugar coma."

He squeaked in protest but settled down when she set him back on his stool.

At last, the tarts were ready for the oven. Strawberry slid the tray onto the stone shelf, then leaned back against the counter with a tired sigh. "Okay," she said, looking at Muffin. "Now we wait."

Muffin chirped and twitched his nose, his expression suggesting that patience was not one of his strong suits.

As the tarts baked, the kitchen filled with a mouthwatering aroma that made Strawberry's stomach growl. Even Muffin seemed affected, his little paws tapping against the counter as he stared at the oven like it held the secrets of the universe.

When the timer finally dinged, Strawberry pulled the tray out with a triumphant grin. The tarts were golden and glistening, their sweet scent filling the room. "Ha! I did it!" she declared, holding up one tart like it was a trophy.

Muffin chirped excitedly, hopping in place on his stool.

She set the tray down to cool and cut a small piece from one of the tarts. The first bite was a revelation—sweet, tangy, and buttery all at once. "Not bad," she admitted, though her tone was modest.

Muffin squeaked insistently, clearly demanding a taste. Strawberry chuckled and cut a tiny piece for him. He devoured it in seconds, his delighted chirp making her laugh.

By the time Quinella returned from her excursion, the kitchen was filled with the warm smell of fresh tarts, and Strawberry and Muffin were happily munching away at the table.

Quinella raised an eyebrow as she entered, taking in the scene. "Well, isn't this domestic," she said, setting her belongings down. "I leave for one day, and you turn into a baker?"

Strawberry shrugged, offering her a tart. "Don't knock it till you try it."

Quinella took a bite, her violet eyes widening slightly. "Wow. Not bad. You might have a future in this."

"Don't get used to it," Strawberry said, though her smirk betrayed her pride.

Quinella took another thoughtful bite of the tart, her violet eyes lingering on the golden crust and perfectly glazed strawberries. She leaned back in her chair, watching Strawberry and Muffin bicker over the last tart, Muffin adamantly chirping for his "fair share." The scene brought a soft smile to her lips, but a question began to form in the back of her mind.

Should I pick up a profession skill, too?

The idea had never crossed her mind before. Quinella had always been focused on combat and survival, pouring her efforts into improving her skills and gear. But seeing the satisfaction on Strawberry's face as she mastered something outside of battle—and the joy it brought—made her wonder if she was missing out. A profession could be useful, after all, and it might be nice to have something to focus on that didn't involve life-and-death stakes.

She glanced at her status menu, pondering the possibilities. Maybe I could take up tailoring, she mused. Or perhaps something like alchemy. That could be useful for making potions and antidotes.

"Something on your mind?" Strawberry asked, pulling Quinella out of her thoughts. The pink-haired warrior tilted her head, her tone curious.

Quinella smirked, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Just thinking about whether I should pick up a profession. Watching you tackle baking like it's some sort of boss fight has me inspired."

Strawberry chuckled, crossing her arms. "It's harder than it looks. But hey, it's kind of satisfying to make something with your own hands. Plus, the rewards are delicious." She gestured to the now-empty tray of tarts, Muffin licking crumbs off his paws.

"Well, if you keep feeding me like this, I might just have to learn something to pull my weight," Quinella teased, but her tone carried a hint of genuine consideration.

A soft chime interrupted their conversation, drawing Strawberry's attention to the glowing system notification that appeared in front of her.

System Notification:

Congratulations! You have learned the profession: [Baking]!

Your creations will now have a chance to restore small amounts of HP or grant temporary buffs when consumed. Keep practicing to unlock higher-tier recipes!

Strawberry blinked, a pleased grin spreading across her face. "Hey, look at that. I'm officially a baker now."

Quinella raised her cup of tea in mock celebration. "To the fiercest warrior-baker in Aincrad. May your pastries strike fear into the hearts of our enemies."

Strawberry rolled her eyes, though her smirk remained. "Yeah, because nothing says intimidation like a strawberry tart."

The two shared a laugh, the moment lighthearted and full of camaraderie. As the evening wound down, Quinella found herself revisiting the thought of learning a profession. If Strawberry could bake, maybe she could do something equally fulfilling—or at least something that would make their journey a little easier.

For now, though, she was content to enjoy the moment, grateful for the rare peace they had carved out in a world of chaos.