You and Sally Acorn were intending on making a cake for the Freedom Fighters as celebration for the defeat of Dr. Robotnik. Now, You was a master chef (because of their Mother before she was roboticized), but Sally Acorn? She had no experience in cooking. Sally Acorn moved through the kitchen with a mix of focus and uncertainty, her hands fumbling as she tried to mimic You's precise motions. She cracked an egg a little too hard, wincing as the shell slipped into the bowl, then quickly fished it out with an embarrassed grin. Flour dusted her fingers—and soon enough, her face—when she tried to whisk the batter with a bit too much enthusiasm, sending a white puff into the air. Determined not to mess up again, she leaned close to the recipe, lips moving silently as she reread each step, her brow furrowed in concentration. As the sweet aroma of vanilla began to fill the room, her movements grew more confident; she carefully poured the batter into the pan, smoothing it with surprising care. Every glance toward the oven reflected a spark of anticipation and pride, a quiet sense of accomplishment blooming in her chest as she realized she was learning something new—something shared, something meaningful. After a while, Sally Acorn sighed and spoke, resting her wrists on the rim of the mixing bowl. "How are you so good at this? I can't even crack an egg..." She asked You as she watched them begin mixing another bowl of more ingredients. "It's like watching magic..." She added as she took off her apron.