The whole company was at its laziest peak. With the Idul Fitri holiday just around the corner, the anticipation was palpable. Conversations in the office revolved around family visits, vacation plans, and the pure joy of finally getting a break. Some employees talked about traveling to see distant relatives, while others were excited about staying at a famous retreat or simply indulging in a well-deserved staycation.
Nobody wanted to do actual work anymore. They were all just waiting for the official announcement of the holiday dates—the final green light to relax.
Then, it finally came.
That late afternoon, an email from the CEO's office landed in everyone's inbox.
At first, it was just the usual corporate holiday message:
"Dear Terra Family,
As we approach the joyous occasion of Idul Fitri, let us take this moment to reflect, express gratitude, and seek forgiveness. May this blessed time bring peace, happiness, and renewed strength to all of you and your families. May your homes be filled with warmth, your hearts with kindness, and your tables with the best meals shared with loved ones. Selamat Idul Fitri, mohon maaf lahir dan batin."
Everyone smiled, some even muttered an appreciative Aamiin under their breath. It was the kind of heartfelt message that truly made the office feel like a second home.
But then came the unexpected twist.
"Additionally, instead of our usual Halal bi Halal gathering, this year, we will be hosting a Company-Wide Cooking Competition!"
A company-wide what?!
Before anyone could process it, the details followed:
Every department had to form a team of three and participate.The jury would consist of the CEO Didik Atmojo, a professional chef Amanda, and Terra's brand ambassador, Ridho Tansil.Each team had to prepare ten portions of food according to a set menu:Spiced Rice (to showcase aroma and technique).Meat Dish (either chicken or beef).A Complementary Vegetable Stir-Fry.Participatation is MANDATORY.
🏆 Grand Prize
Additional budget for the winning department.A premium holiday package—a 2-day, 1-night luxury resort stay outside the city for the entire team.
🎖 Bonus Prizes
A Trophy.Special privileges at the office cafeteria.
The office exploded into chaos.
Some were excited, already discussing recipes and strategy. Others groaned, realizing they'd have to actually cook.
And that was how Nadif, Kennan, and Aghi found themselves staring at their team registration form in silent disbelief.
"Cooking?" Kennan finally broke the silence, staring at the notice as if it had personally offended him. "Why the hell are we cooking?"
"Pak Didik said it's to strengthen teamwork," Aghi explained, looking way too relaxed about the situation. "You know, bonding and all that."
Nadif took a measured breath, forcing himself to stay composed in front of his juniors. He had been expecting a slow transition back to work after Ramadan—not a high-pressure MasterChef episode.
"This is unexpected," he muttered. "We have an actual business to run."
"Relax, Mas Nadif," Aghi said with a reassuring grin. "It's just cooking. How hard can it be?"
Kennan scoffed. "That depends. Are you volunteering to do all the work while I sit back and watch?"
Aghi rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mas Kennan. You can cook, right?"
Kennan smirked. "I can order food. That's basically the same thing."
Nadif sighed, switching to damage control mode. He needed to make this work. "I guess this works well for us, bachelors. We'll use the holiday to practice."
Kennan immediately pointed at Aghi. "He should do the cooking. His food is actually edible."
Aghi raised an eyebrow. "Flattering. But you do realize it's a three-person team, right?"
Kennan waved a hand dismissively. "We'll find someone else. Anyone but me."
Nadif wasn't letting him off that easy. He folded his arms and gave Kennan a look.
"Fine," he said. "Find someone before work ends tomorrow at noon. Otherwise, congratulations—you're on the team."
Kennan's smirk faltered. "That's unfair."
"It's fair," Nadif corrected. "Tomorrow is our last working day before the holiday. If you want out, bring me a replacement. Otherwise, you're cooking."
Kennan groaned and threw himself into the chair, landing with a heavy thud.. "Great. Forced labor before Eid. What a blessing."
. . .
In the end, Kennan couldn't find anyone else. Either they were married and wanted to spend time with family, or their hometown was too far—some needing half a day by bus just to get there.
Which was why he was here now, pulling the cart while Aghi carefully picked out ingredients for their practice session. And Nadif? He was paying the bill, getting his kitchen overtaken, and watching his peaceful evening plans dissolve.
The supermarket was packed, filled with last-minute shoppers preparing for the grand holiday. The aisles were chaos, the checkout lines stretched far too long, and the air buzzed with rushed conversations and hurried steps.
"You'll also help prep the veggies," Aghi added, tossing a bundle of greens into the cart.
Kennan groaned. "You know I'm useless in the kitchen." He pulled at his bangs as if they could somehow hide his reluctance.
"Your other option is cleaning up later," Nadif said smoothly, not even looking up as he examined a pack of spices. "And I expect my pans and pots to be spotless—no weird smells left behind."
Kennan immediately straightened. "I'll help with the ingredients."
Aghi exchanged looks with Nadif before both chuckled.
Of course.
But the store wasn't the only place drowning in the last-minute rush. By the time they made it out, the roads were already clogged with commuters—people hurrying from work to home, or from home to wherever they were spending the long holiday.
Kennan eyed the traffic warily. "Are we gonna make it to your place before iftar?"
Nadif exhaled. "We'll snack on the way."
Kennan groaned. "But there aren't many places selling takjil this close to Eid."
Nadif didn't bother responding.
"Really, Mas Kennan, you're such a kid sometimes," Aghi chuckled. "I already bought some chilled drinks, just in case. Worst case, we can stop at the nearest mosque."
Kennan sighed in relief.
"We're all hungry too," Nadif said, patting Kennan's head like he was soothing a fussy little brother. His brown hair was surprisingly smooth, silky under Nadif's fingers.
Kennan grumbled something unintelligible but nodded.
Nadif grinned. "Good."
. . .
It turned out that even preparing ingredients took patience, energy, and—most of all—more patience.
Kennan quickly realized he was in over his head. Peeling vegetables was already tricky, but peeling them carefully was a whole other level. He wasn't used to the tools, and every few seconds, he had to pause and readjust his grip, making the process painfully slow.
Nadif stepped in to help, knowing full well that if they left everything to Kennan, they wouldn't be eating until midnight. Even with Aghi supervising, handling half the tasks, and barking occasional instructions, things still moved at a frustratingly sluggish pace.
"You're really good at this," Nadif remarked, glancing at Aghi, who was effortlessly slicing ingredients with practiced ease.
"Hm?" Aghi hummed absently before flashing a fond smile. "I used to join a lot of club activities—mostly outdoor ones. We had to cook for ourselves, so I learned the hard way."
Nadif chuckled, his mind flashing to his automotive club's recent discussions about long road trips and survival tips. "What, messed-up rice? Undercooked or overcooked?"
"Worse." Aghi winced at the memory. "I miscalculated the water and turned it into mush. And the side dish? Completely bland. It was barely edible."
Nadif made an exaggerated ouch face.
"Oh, and finding fresh ingredients in the wild?" Aghi shook his head. "A nightmare. You're better off buying from locals—if there are any around."
Kennan, who had been listening intently, kept his focus on the vegetables in front of him. His brow furrowed as he examined his handiwork.
"Is this enough? Can I wash them now?" he asked, finally looking up. His usually flawless, idol-like face has specks of vegetable skin clinging to his cheek.
Neither Nadif nor Aghi commented on it.
"I'll wash them," Aghi said with a wide smile. "You'll help with chopping later."
Kennan nodded, completely oblivious. "Good. I hope it'll be ready soon. I'm so hungry..."
His voice carried a slight whine, and his usually sharp, calculating expression softened into something almost boyish. His gaze flickered toward the stove as if willing the food to magically cook itself.
Nadif paused, watching the scene unfold with amusement. This was the same Kennan who ruthlessly terrorized the finance department over the smallest discrepancies in numbers? The same man who could single-handedly crush a deal negotiation with his razor-sharp precision?
Yet here he was, lips slightly pouting, his once-flawless face streaked with dirt, looking every bit like a helpless rookie in the kitchen.
"Who knew you of all people would be this pathetic when hungry?" Nadif teased, crossing his arms.
Aghi chuckled as he rinsed the vegetables. He glanced at Kennan's expectant, almost innocent-looking face. "Yeah, it's kinda weird."
Kennan scowled, clearly displeased by the comparison. "Negotiating contracts and surviving in a kitchen are two completely different skill sets."
Nadif smirked. "Are they, though? Both require patience, precision, and strategy."
"Yeah, well, at least numbers don't burn you," Kennan muttered, rubbing a spot on his finger where he had nicked himself earlier with the peeler.
Aghi shook his head with a knowing smile. "This is why I told you to go slow."
Kennan groaned, throwing himself dramatically onto the nearest chair. "Just wake me up when the food's ready…"
"Not a chance," Nadif shot back, grabbing Kennan's arm and pulling him back up. "You still have chopping duty."
Kennan sighed, defeated, but trudged toward the cutting board anyway. "Fine. But if I lose a finger, you two are personally responsible."
Aghi and Nadif exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.
At least cooking together was turning out to be an interesting experience.