Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, which is probably for the best or else it would just be nothing but angst and torment. Yeah. Hm. Also don't own any of the characters, although I do own Jimmy, Ansem's hideous cooking skills, and the ideas in this story. So there you go.


"You melted the frying pan."

He's 11, still only a boy to the world. At the moment, he is standing atop a small wooden stool in a large kitchen, fit for seven or more. Wonder and awe fill him in a way only young boys can possess in the face of destruction fire and melted metal. As if eager for more, he leans forward, and his small hands cling to the counter edge. Apparently, he can't quite believe what's just happened, even if the evidence and smoke are right before him, because he repeats himself. "You melted the frying pan. I didn't know eggs could do that."

Besides him, the tall blond man coughs sheepishly into his fist. The beginnings of a neatly kept beard are on his chin, and his button down shirt has its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He stares down at the mess on top of the oven in embarrassment, clearly trying to figure out a way to fix this. In response to the boy's words, he only manages a small noise in the back of his throat.

Neither have time to do much else, for hurried footsteps can be heard just outside the hall. The kitchen door bursts open, and a dark-haired teenager stands there, looking frazzled. He has clearly only just woken up, judging by the messy way his clothes have been thrown on and the disarray his hair is in. "I heard the smoke alarm," he says breathlessly and in a rush. "The refrigerator didn't catch on fire again, did it?"

"That was only one time!" is the man's defensive reply, right as the boy exclaims, "Dilan, you have to see this!"

It's a testament to the dozen of odd things that have happened in the kitchen that Dilan is hardly fazed once he sees the state of the frying pan. He simply sighs and presses the palm of his hand to his eyes. "I'll clean up," he mutters. Almost immediately, the other two chorus that they'll help, and Dilan glares at them from over his hand. "With all due respect, Master Ansem, I'd rather handle this alone. You're an utter genius, and I am completely honored to serve as one of your apprentices... But when you're in the kitchen, things tend to become combustible or mutate. Remember the green spaghetti?"

"That reminds me, has anyone fed Jimmy?" the younger boy asks. He never gets an answer, because another set of footsteps is rushing to them. All three turn to the open doorway, just in time to see a certain redhead skid to a stop and almost slip. Desperately, this other teenager grabs onto the door and only barely manages to avoid a crash to the floor.

He doesn't seem to care much, however, for he excitedly says, "I heard the smoke alarm! What happened this time? Are there any more sentient noodles?"

"Come and look! He destroyed the frying pan, Braig!"

"Seriously, Ienzo!?" In a heartbeat, Braig has scrambled over to the group and is staring down at the catastrophe that is the oven. He and Ienzo stare down at it in appreciation and share a small look before, together, they look up at Ansem with nothing short of hero worship. "Dude," Braig whispers in awe. "I mean, Master, you're amazing. I love you." Ansem only stares up at the ceiling in embarrassment.

Finally, the last two apprentices stumble inside, although this is mostly only true for the thin white-haired teen that's leaning against his much more muscular friend. "Please don't tell me we have to order new tiling," Even whines, his eyes still firmly closed as if he's afraid to open them.

"It doesn't look too bad," Elaeus assures him, although he sends the others a look that seems to say 'it's really not that bad, right?'

"It's only a frying pan," Ansem says weakly.


Author's Notes:

Yeah, I kinda really super love the Apprentice era. 8D Like, more then is healthy.

This was actually written as a flashback for an RP I'm in, but I loved it so much, I had to share it.

Anyway, constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated, although not required!