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Sato should’ve known something was up the second he saw her face.
While it was true that Ashido was always smiling, the grin she was currently wearing was slightly more manic than usual, and her yellow eyes were glowing like the sun.
“Er, hi, Ashido,” Sato said, one hand still resting on the door to his dorm room. When he had heard the knock on his door, he had been expecting it to be one of the guys, inviting him to play video games or watch a movie or something. Certainly not Ashido, who he didn’t know very well, looking like excitement incarnate. “Did you need someth—Hey!”
Without warning, Ashido shoved Sato in the chest, making him stumble out of the doorway and back into his room. Ashido followed after him, closing the door behind her after a quick, furtive glance up and down the hallway. Her eyes scanned his room next, taking in the mundane furnishings. Was it his imagination, or did her eyes seem to sparkle even brighter when they landed on his baking ingredients and his oven?
“Sorry, Sato!” Ashido apologized, not sounding apologetic in the least. “This is serious business. I can’t take the chance anyone will overhear.”
Sato blinked at her, confusion wrinkling his brow. “Uh, okay. But if you wanted to come in, you could’ve just asked.”
His words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Ashido had moved to inspect the ingredients more closely, gazing at all of them in turn and frowning thoughtfully. Suddenly, she placed her hands to her temples and cried, “Gah! It’s no use! I don’t know anything about baking.”
She turned to Sato. “Do you have the ingredients to make something caramel-flavored?” she asked.
“Er, yeah. I can make caramel-filled cookies.”
“Perfect!” Ashido exclaimed, clapping her hands together and smiling broadly. “Can you whip me up a batch? It’s for a really important cause.”
“Um, sure, I can do that. But could you tell me what all this is about first? I’m kinda confused over here.”
Ashido regarded him carefully, squinting at him with her black and yellow eyes. Then, she seemed to relax, shrugging her shoulders.
“Alright. I guess you deserve to know, since you’re the one baking them and all. But, lookie here.” Her tone suddenly took on an edge, and she menacingly pointed a finger at his chest. “Not a word of this leaves this room. Not. A. Word.”
Sato held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Got it. Not a word.”
Ashido lowered her finger and grinned widely again. “The cookies are for Toru.”
“Hagakure?”
“Yep. Well, technically, they’re for Ojiro, but he’s going to give them to Toru,” Ashido responded, practically bouncing on her feet.
“Why is Ojiro giving cookies to Hagakure? Oh, shoot, is her birthday coming up? I had no idea. I’ll have to go buy her a present.”
“No, no, nothing like that!” Ashido waved her arms in front of her. “He’s going to confess to her!” Ashido’s grin was now so wide that it seemed like her face was being split in two. Sato, for his part, was gaping slightly at the revelation.
“Wait, what? Ojiro likes Hagakure?”
“What, you didn’t know?” Ashido asked, surprise coloring her voice. “I mean, it’s so obvious. He’s always sneaking looks at her, and he waits for her to get ready every morning so they can walk to class together, and they do their homework in each other’s rooms, and they talk all the time.”
“Right,” Sato agreed, even though he had had no idea that Ojiro and Hagakure did any of those things. “But are you sure Hagakure likes Ojiro back?”
The question made Ashido scoff. “Well, duh! She skips our girls-only movie nights all the time to go hang out with Ojiro. And she’s even told me that she has a crush on him. Gah, it’s so annoying when people won’t admit they like each other!” Ashido suddenly exclaimed, crossing her arms with a distinctively pouty look on her face. “I’ve tried getting Toru to ask Ojiro out, but she just gets flustered and runs away whenever I bring it up. Eventually, I decided to get Ojiro to ask Toru out, but Ojiro wouldn’t even admit he liked her! Well, I got him to admit it eventually, but then he said he didn’t know how to confess to her. I mean, does no one read romance novels anymore?”
At this, Ashido gave an annoyed huff. “Anyways, I told him he should give her a gift and then confess, and he said Toru likes caramel stuff, so then I said he should ask you to bake him something, but he didn’t want to involve anyone else, so I said I’d ask you for him.”
Ashido smiled at Sato, who was slightly taken aback but recovered quickly.
“Making cookies is no problem, especially if it’s for a friend,” Sato said. “But you know you could’ve bought some from the store, right?”
“What? No way! Your stuff always tastes way better than the crap they sell at the store! Homemade beats store bought any day.”
Sato felt a flush creeping its way up his neck. Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but my baking’s not that good. It’s just a hobby I picked up because of my Quirk.”
Ashido patted Sato on the shoulder. “Don’t put yourself down so much!”
She headed for the door, practically skipping at each step. As she reached for the doorknob, she turned around and said “Bring the cookies to my room when you’re done” before entering the hallway.
As Ashido’s footsteps faded away, Sato checked the clock and decided he might as well make the cookies now. He began to prepare his ingredients, musing over his conversation with Ashido.
Sato had never really thought of himself as a master baker. Sure, he baked a lot, but that was just because of his Quirk. To be honest, before the room king competition, Sato hadn’t realized quite how much other people—especially girls—liked his baking.
Still, he thought as he measured out his flour, it had been a nice feeling, seeing everyone’s faces light up because of something that he had created.
Sato hoped these cookies would bring those same smiles to the faces of Ojiro and Hagakure.
Ojiro’s heart was beating furiously in his chest. His tail kept twitching from side to side, no matter how hard he tried to keep it still. He was sitting at his table, trying in vain to focus on the homework in front of him, while Hagakure was lying on his bed, also working on homework.
“Agh! Why is this so difficult?” she groaned. The sheet of math problems crinkled as she dropped her head onto it, the only sign that she had moved. She groaned again, seemingly oblivious to Ojiro’s state of intense nervousness.
Ashido had given him a clear plastic container full of caramel cookies earlier that morning, winking as she did so. They were currently hidden in the drawer of his desk.
“Hagakure,” he began, the word nearly catching in his throat.
“Yeah?” she asked, happy to have an excuse to ignore her homework.
“I, er, have a gift. For you.” Inwardly, Ojiro cringed.
On the bed, Hagakure’s shirt and shorts sat up. “Ooh, a present! What is it, what is it?”
“First, close your eyes,” Ojiro said. “No cheating!”
“Fine, fine,” Hagakure replied. “They’re closed.”
Not that Ojiro had any way to tell. He decided to take her word for it, though. Quickly, he took the container from its hiding place and walked over to where Hagakure was sitting. He placed the container in her lap. “Here you go.”
“Ooh, cookies!” she squealed, presumably opening her eyes again. Hagakure opened the container and sampled her present with sheer delight. “These taste so good,” she moaned, crumbs spilling onto her shorts.
“I’m glad.” Ojiro paused. His heart was now pumping so fast that he thought he’d pass out. “Um, there’s something else I wanted to say.”
Hagakure didn’t stop eating, and even though Ojiro couldn’t see her face, there was an air of expectancy about her that he recognized as her telling him go on .
“This present . . .” His voice sounded small and unsure. Steeling himself, he cleared his throat and tried again. “I wanted to give you this present because I know you like caramel. You’re always so happy when you eat it, and I wanted to make you happy.”
With this admission, Ojiro felt his entire face turn bright red. The noise of Hagakure chewing had stopped, and the cookie was no longer magically shrinking from invisible bites.
“I like you, Hagakure!” The words burst out, shoved up his throat and out his mouth. Once those first words were out, the rest poured out of him in a flood. “I-I’ve liked you for a while, and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how or when, and I didn’t know if you liked me back, and it’s okay if you don’t, I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and we can still be friends—”
“I like you, too, Ojiro.”
Hagakure’s voice stopped his own in its tracks. For a few seconds, he could only stare at her (or, at least, where he thought her face was), uncomprehending. Finally, her words pierced the veil that seemed to surround his brain, and he realized what she’d just said.
“W-Wha—You do?”
“Yeah. For a while now, same as you.” Even invisible as she was, Ojiro had the feeling she was blushing.
By this point, Ojiro’s heart had calmed down to a normal rhythm. Unbidden, a bright smile was spreading across his face. He felt light as air.
“Do you want to go on a date?” he asked, feeling bold. “There’s a new café in town I’ve heard is pretty good.”
“I’d love to,” Hagakure replied, and he could sense the smile in her voice. Hagakure’s shirt and shorts rustled as she leaned her body closer to Ojiro. There was the sudden feeling of soft lips on his cheek, and Ojiro started, again flushing bright red.
Hagakure pulled back and picked up another cookie from the container in her lap. “Thanks for the cookies, by the way.”
“Oh my God, look at how cute they are!” Ashido gushed across the table from Sato. Her eyes were focused on the couch behind Sato where Hagakure and Ojiro were cuddled up next to each other. There was an aura of pure joy surrounding Ashido.
Sato gave a quick glance behind him, smiling at what he saw, before turning back to his homework. “They do look happy together.”
“And it’s all because of your cookies, Sato,” Ashido continued, completely ignoring her own homework in favor of fawning over the new couple.
“That’s exaggerating things a bit. My cookies are nothing special. They’re happy because they like each other,” Sato replied. He gnawed on the eraser of his pencil, trying to work through the problem. Damn all these math equations!
“Never underestimate the happiness that comes from eating baked goods,” Ashido said. Her tone was light and joking, but Sato thought he detected a layer of seriousness beneath.
He only spared her words a brief thought before focusing fully on the math problem.
Sato didn’t think about the caramel cookies again until Ashido once more showed up at his door. This time, Sato instantly recognized the look on her face.
“I need your help again, Sato,” she said, entering his room before he had the chance to say anything. Sato closed the door behind her before turning to face her. That same manic smile, those same glowing eyes. He knew where this was going, alright.
“Another relationship in need of help?” he asked.
“You guessed it,” Ashido confirmed, brimming with energy and excitement. “But I can’t tell you who it is this time,” she said, wagging her finger in a no-no motion. “It’s not my secret to tell.”
“As long as this isn’t your way of trying to trick me into giving you free cookies, I don’t mind.”
Ashido brought a hand to her heart in mock indignation. “I would never!” The laugh bubbling up in her throat ruined the effect.
“Anyways, can you make Mexican-style brownies this time?” she asked.
“Mexican-style? You mean, like, spicy?” A vague suspicion formed in Sato’s mind as to who these brownies were meant for, but he didn’t dwell on it. He wasn’t in the habit of prying into other people’s business.
“Yep,” Ashido replied.
“Hmm . . . I’ll need to run to the store for some ingredients,” Sato mused, half to himself.
“Here, take some of my money. I’m the one making you bake these after all,” Ashido said, pulling her wallet out of her pocket and taking out a wad of cash. She held out the money to Sato, who tried to refuse. Ashido was insistent, though, and kept trying to force the cash into Sato’s hands.
Briefly, the two of them struggled against one another, Sato trying to stay away from Ashido, Ashido trying to shove her money into Sato’s hands. Finally, Ashido managed to shove the cash into Sato’s hands and hurriedly backed away before he could shove it back at her. Sighing, Sato relented and placed the money in his pocket.
“If you’ve got money to spend, why not just buy some brownies instead of having me make them?” Sato inquired. Ashido rolled her eyes at him.
“This again? Come on, I’ve already told you, homemade over store bought any day.”
“I really don’t think it makes that much difference,” Sato argued. Ashido was having none of it.
“You’re wrong, and I’m right,” she declared, her voice brooking no arguments. “Can you have them done by Sunday?”
“That should be fine. Two days is plenty of time,” Sato replied.
“Alright, then.” Having said what she came to say, Ashido headed for the door. “Have fun baking!” she called as she left.
Sato went over to his bookshelf, filled with cookbooks and recipes, and pulled down the one containing dessert recipes from North America. He found the recipe for Mexican-style brownies, examined the ingredients, and made note of what he needed to buy. Replacing the book, he left his room, heading for the store.
He still wasn’t entirely sure why Ashido kept asking him to bake stuff when it was really a lot simpler just to buy things from the store. Her reasoning didn’t really make much sense to him. But he did enjoy baking, so it wasn’t like it was that much of a hassle. It also seemed to make her happy when he did what she asked. And, really, what was the point in not doing something easy that would make others happy?
“Man, these are fucking good ,” Bakugou proclaimed, reaching to grab another brownie from the container. He sounded uncharacteristically satisfied. “Whoever invented spicy desserts was a goddamn genius.”
Kirishima made a noncommittal noise of agreement, taking a bite of his own brownie. They were really good, but Kirishima couldn’t focus on the taste right now. He couldn’t focus on the movie playing on Bakugou’s computer either. He couldn’t focus on anything besides the thoughts swirling around his brain and the nervousness creeping through his entire body.
When he’d confessed his crush on Bakugou to Mina, one of his oldest friends, he wasn’t sure how she’d react. He hadn’t expected her to light up like a Christmas tree, eyes sparkling and a smile so wide you would’ve thought all of her wishes had suddenly come true. He definitely hadn’t expected her to take such a vested interest in turning his crush into something more.
Mina had cornered Kirishima after class one day, shoving a container of brownies into his hand that she’d apparently gotten from Sato. She’d told him to give them to Bakugou and tell Bakugou how he felt. “Trust me, it’ll all work out,” Mina assured him, grinning widely.
Kirishima had brought the brownies to his and Bakugou’s biweekly movie night, but he hadn’t found the courage to do anything beyond that.
Now, sitting in Bakugou’s room, the container between them on the floor, the spicy, chocolatey dessert felt like cement slowly oozing its way down his throat.
“What’s wrong?”
The words startled Kirishima. Turning his head, he saw Bakugou looking at him. Bakugou was still eating his brownie, and his tongue flicked out to lick excess chocolate off his lips. Kirishima’s eyes instantly latched onto the movement.
Abruptly, Kirishima jerked his gaze away. “What? Nothing’s wrong.”
Even though he couldn’t see Bakugou, Kirishima could just feel the other’s eyes narrow. “Bullshit. You’ve been jumpy as fuck since you got here. And you haven’t used the word ‘manly’ once today.”
Unbidden, warmth spread through Kirishima’s chest at the thought that Bakugou knew him well enough to be able to tell when something was wrong with him. Sighing, Kirishima trained his eyes on the computer screen, the colors and movements only registering as blurs. He swallowed convulsively, suddenly finding that his mouth was dry as dust.
“What would you say if I told you I was gay?”
For a moment, silence filled the air between them. Kirishima kept his eyes resolutely trained on the computer screen, refusing to glance sideways at Bakugou.
“I’d say that I don’t care.” Bakugou’s tone was matter-of-fact. “You’re still the same person you always were. It’s not my business who you like, and anyone who says differently can go fuck themselves.”
Any other time, those words of acceptance would’ve made Kirishima’s heart feel light. Now, they only added to the nervousness seeping through his veins.
“What would you say if I told you I like you?”
This time, Kirishima heard Bakugou draw in a sharp breath. Kirishima’s words hung heavy in the air, anvils threatening to crush Kirishima’s heart under their weight. He wanted desperately to take his question back, suck it back in and pretend it had never happened. Instead, he continued to stare at the computer screen, mute.
“I’d say I like you back.” Bakugou’s voice was low and rough.
Breath catching in his throat, Kirishima turned his head to look at Bakugou. His eyes flashed with an emotion Kirishima hardly dared to name. “R-Really?” Kirishima stuttered.
Slowly, a smirk spread across Bakugou’s face. “Want me to prove it?”
Bakugou darted his hand out, catching Kirishima on the shoulder and yanking him closer. Kirishima’s yelp was quickly muffled by a pair of lips on his own. His eyes widened in surprise before he let himself succumb to the kiss.
It was messy and clumsy and uncoordinated. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. There was no finesse, just two pairs of lips smashed together. Still, Kirishima wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything. Their breath smelled like chocolate, and he could still taste the brownies in Bakugou’s mouth.
When they finally pulled back for air, Bakugou licked his lips again with obvious relish, making Kirishima flush as red as his hair. “You taste even fucking better than those brownies.”
“Wait, wait, wait, those brownies were for Bakugou and Kirishima ?” Sato asked, astonishment written plainly across his face, twisting around in his seat to spy on the newest couple in the 1-A dorms. Ashido was shamelessly doing the same from her seat across the table from Sato. A plate of pancakes sat in front of Sato while Ashido was halfway through a bowl of cereal.
“Well, yeah. They were spicy . Who’d you think they were for?” Ashido asked, noisily slurping down a spoonful of milk and cereal.
“I guessed that they were for Bakugou, but I thought Uraraka had a thing for him,” Sato replied, turning back around in his chair just in time to see Ashido nearly choke. She spluttered, laughing even as she coughed on her food.
“Ochako? Man, you really are clueless, aren’t you?” Mirth made Ashido’s pinks even cheeker than usual, and Sato felt his own grow red. “Trust me, it’s not Bakugou that Ochako’s in love with.”
The tone of Ashido’s voice made Sato feel like he was missing something, but he wasn’t interested enough to investigate.
“I’m just surprised,” Sato said, taking a delicious bite of fluffy pancakes doused with maple syrup. “Kirishima seems too cheerful for Bakugou.”
“What, and Ochako isn’t? Besides, it’s a basic rule of love that opposites attract,” Ashido lectured. “Not to mention that chocolate can improve anyone’s personality. Even Bakugou’s.”
At this, Ashido gave Sato a very pointed look, which he pretended not to notice. So what if two couples had started going out after Sato had baked for them? That didn’t mean his baked goods were the reason behind their relationships. Correlation does not mean causation, after all.
Even so, watching Ojiro and Hagakure leave the dorms for a date hand-in-hand and Bakugou and Kirishima lounging together on the lawn outside, Sato couldn’t deny that the thought that he was the cause behind all this filled him with an odd warmth.
The next time Ashido showed up at Sato’s door, she brought someone else with her. Opening the door to his dorm room, Sato found Ashido and Midoriya standing there, Ashido grinning broadly as always while Midoriya looked sheepish.
“I was wondering when you’d show up again, Ashido,” Sato said, smiling. “Come in, both of you.”
Ashido had forced her way inside almost as soon as Sato had opened the door, but Midoriya waited for Sato’s invitation. Once they were both inside and situated on the floor, Sato asked, “So, what can I do for you guys?”
“Um, I’m sorry to bother you, Sato, but I have a favor to ask,” Midoriya said. “I was wondering if—”
“We’re planning a party, and we want you to bake a cake!” Ashido interrupted, jovially bouncing up and down. "Well, I'm planning the party, but it was Midoriya's idea."
“Sounds like fun. What’s the party for?”
Midoriya blushed. “Oh, uh, well, you see, it’s going to be the anniversary of All Might’s debut soon. A-And I was thinking, you know, the media usually makes a really big deal about it, but this year is going to be the first anniversary after All Might’s retirement, and I was worried that all the media coverage might make All Might miss being a hero and might make him feel like he’s too powerless to help anyone anymore, even though that’s definitely not true, so I was thinking of how we all could show him our appreciation, and I thought throwing him an anniversary party would be a good idea, but we wouldn’t be celebrating his anniversary, we’d be celebrating his accomplishments as a teacher, and how he’s still helping to inspire us and make us into better heroes day after day, and—”
Ashido cut Midoriya off mid-ramble. “Basically, we’re going to remind All Might he’s still the best, even if he is retired now. And we need a cake. A giant one.”
“If it’s not a problem,” Midoriya hastily added.
“No, it’s not a problem,” Sato reassured him. “Honestly, I’d love to bake a cake for All Might. But why don’t you ask a professional bakery or something to do it? They could make something a hundred times better than anything I could ever do, and I’d bet any one of them would jump at the chance to bake for All Might.”
“Sato, we’ve been over this already.” Ashido’s voice contained more than a tinge of exasperation. “It has to be you , not some random bakery.”
“It’s not about how fancy or big the cake is. It’s about showing All Might how important he still is to all of us. I think it would mean a lot to him if you baked it, Sato,” Midoriya agreed.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” Sato acquiesced. “Did you have a specific design in mind or something?”
“Uh, yeah, actually.” Midoriya sounded embarrassed, but he proceeded to describe his idea in detail. Ashido oo ed in delight while Sato frowned thoughtfully.
“Hmm, I could definitely do that, but it’ll take a while. I’ll need to buy a lot of ingredients, and I’ll probably need to take over the first floor kitchen.”
“Done, and done. Just leave it to me,” Ashido proclaimed. “I’ll buy you the ingredients, and I’ll tell everyone to keep out of the kitchen.”
“W-Wait, Ashido! The party was my idea. I should be the one—”
“Do you know how to plan a party?” Ashido interrupted Midoriya, who reluctantly shook his head no . “Then leave everything to me.”
The next week was a blur of party preparations for all the students of Class 1-A. Ashido marshaled her classmates with an ease of authority that surprised Sato. Under her direction, streamers were made, banners painted, party blowers and food bought, speakers set up—all the makings of a good party. Aizawa, having quickly caught on to what his students were planning, left them mostly alone, only stepping in when Kaminari and Jirou started throwing paint at each other in the middle of making banners.
For his part, Sato focused on his baking, determined to make this the most magnificent cake he’d ever created. Baking the cake itself took long enough, but it was decorating that took the longest. Sato worked for hours, painstakingly arranging every last detail.
Finally, the day of the party arrived.
The first floor of the 1-A dorms had been completely transformed. The couches, chairs, and ottomans had been pushed against the walls. The tables had been placed next to each other to form one long line, heaving with food. The table farthest to the left had been reserved for Sato’s cake. A banner with the words THANK YOU, ALL MIGHT had been hung right over the food, and streamers fell from the ceiling. Everyone was decked out in cheap party gear: plastic bead necklaces, oversized sunglasses, outlandish wigs, ridiculous headbands, party blowers in hand.
“Alright, everyone, All Might is on his way!” Midoriya announced, putting his phone away. He was wearing a rainbow-colored assortment of necklaces and a pair of hot pink bunny ears on his head.
“Whoo! Let’s get this party started!” Kaminari exclaimed, pumping the air with his fist. Next to him, Jirou burst out laughing.
“Oh my God, you look even stupider than usual!” she cried. Kaminari was wearing a fake black moustache and a blonde wig that fell to his chin in a tangled bob. He had written the word PARTY on both arms in handwriting marginally more legible than chicken scratch.
“Hey! What’s that supp—”
Kaminari was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. All Might stepped over the threshold and paused, shock plain on his face as he took in all the decorations.
“W-What . . .”
“Surprise!” Class 1-A yelled. A couple of people sounded their party blowers, filling the air with noise. All Might looked stupefied as Midoriya, awkwardly pressing his fingers together, stepped forward.
“Young Midoriya, what . . . what is all this?” All Might asked.
“Er, we, we all wanted to show you how much you mean to us. You might not be the number one hero anymore, but you’re still really important to all of us. We, um, thought we’d show our appreciation by throwing you a party—”
Looking on the verge of tears, All Might yanked Midoriya into a bear hug. “Thank you,” he said, sounding choked. “All of you, thank you.”
Next to him, Ashido smiled wide, a headband with a green plastic top hat perched between her horns. Practically skipping forward, she grabbed All Might’s hand. “Come on, you need to see the cake.”
Other students surged forward, too, helping guide All Might over to the table holding Sato’s cake. Feeling his heart surge into his throat, Sato followed the crowd. Once at the table, All Might spent a few moments simply staring at the creation in front of him.
It was a giant four-tier cake, decorated with white frosting and red, blue, and white embellishments. But the real eye-catchers were the amazingly realistic fondant figures. On the top tier was All Might in his depowered form and yellow suit, standing determinedly with his fists on his hips. Around the edges of the bottom tiers were all the students of Class 1-A in their hero costumes, smiling and gazing up at the top tier. Nearly all of them had their fists raised in an expression of triumph.
“Th-This,” All Might began, stuttering, “This is simply spectacular. I assume this is young Sato’s work?”
“Yep! He did an amazing job, didn’t he?” Ashido said, beaming as Sato felt himself flush. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“I-I think it turned out pretty good, considering I’m just an amateur. It was definitely more complicated than anything I’d made before. I’m sure a professional bakery could’ve done much better.”
All Might placed a hand on Sato’s shoulder and turned to look him squarely in the eyes. Sato gulped as he was confronted with All Might’s full, piercing gaze.
“This is truly the most magnificent cake I have ever had the privilege of seeing. And it is all the more magnificent because I know you were the one who made it. Because I know you took the time and the energy to make this for me, when you did not have to. They say food is the way to a person’s heart for a reason, my boy. Never forget that.”
Sato’s entire face was red as a tomato by the time All Might let go of his shoulder and turned back to the cake.
“Now, what do you say we cut this spectacular cake and see if it tastes as amazing as it looks?”
Class 1-A was definitely feeling the effects of the party the day after. They’d gorged themselves on cake, finishing the whole thing within an hour, and had somehow still had room left over for the other party snacks. Kaminari and Jirou had spent nearly the whole time arguing over who got to play their music on the speakers while Ashido had used the empty space in the middle of the common room to teach people how to dance, with varying degrees of success. At some point, someone discovered leftover paint cans in a closet, and the whole thing very quickly degenerated into a giant paint fight. Even All Might joined in, although he did make them go outside as soon as the paint started flying. Then, when everyone was sufficiently worn out and covered in paint, they traipsed back inside to wash up and change into pajamas. Carrying their pillows and blankets to the common room, they’d stayed up way too late watching movie after movie. One by one, everyone had dropped off to sleep. They’d been woken up at three in the afternoon the next day by a sheepish-looking All Might and an exasperated Aizawa.
For the rest of the day, the majority of the class moved in about a daze, too tired to really do anything and thanking God that it was the weekend.
Unlike most of the other students, after about an hour of lazing around, Sato went up to his room to actually do something productive—baking. Soon, he had whipped up a batch of delicious snickerdoodle cookies. Placing them in a container, he carried them downstairs to the common room.
Most of the class was either in the common room or in their own rooms, but through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Sato saw Ashido sitting in the shadow of a giant oak tree outside. Quickly, he left the building and made his way over to her. She was leaning back against the trunk, her eyes closed and her body totally relaxed.
“Here.” Sato’s voice made her eyelids flutter open with difficulty, fighting exhaustion. Some of her energy seemed to come back when she saw the cookies, though.
“Ugh, I ate way too much yesterday,” Ashido moaned even as she greedily reached for the container. “What’s the occasion?” she asked, taking a cookie. Sato shrugged.
“Eh, nothing in particular. I’ve just been thinking that you’ve done a lot for everyone lately. Seems like you deserve something in return.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Ashido gushed. “But don’t forget that you’ve done a lot, too.”
“I know.” Sato grinned. “That’s why half of those cookies are for me.”
“What? These are mine . Get your own.” Sato reached a hand out to grab a cookie, and Ashido pulled the container out of his reach. Sato lunged after them, and Ashido scooted backwards away from the tree, both of them laughing.
“Alright, fine. I guess you can have some of them,” Ashido finally relented, sighing loudly to make sure Sato knew how nice she was being.
“So generous,” Sato smirked, taking a cookie.
They sat there for the rest of the afternoon, beneath a canopy of branches. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing the container of cookies; in their hearts, there was nothing but happiness and contentment.