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I usually don’t give a shit about anyone who comes into this bakery. Our coffee and other drinks taste like crap, the atmosphere sucks, and we don’t have our own wi-fi. The only good thing about coming in here is the pastries and that’s only because I make them. I can’t explain it, but ever since I was a kid I’ve had this ridiculous pull towards baked goods. Cakes, pies, pastries, if you can name it, I can bake it, and I can do it better than your mom, your mom’s mom, and anyone else you know. I guess I could try to blame it on one of my parents, if only that wouldn’t make me just like everyone else who points a finger at those who raised them. Sometimes, you’re just fucked up and you have no one to blame but yourself.
This isn’t about me, though. It’s about that green-haired fucker. There’s this asshole who comes into the store every damn day like he owns the place or something. Sitting there with his notebook and bagel. Tch. He thinks he’s so much better than the rest of us, doesn’t he? We’re just like ants beneath his ridiculous red boots. Does he not own any other shoes? Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about some small fry like him, but he happens to be what some might call a “childhood friend” though I never saw it that way. We grew up on the same street, big deal. He stalks me now and was a stalker back then too. The little shit followed me around everywhere. I couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried. That is, until we were enrolled in elementary school and he finally stopped pestering me. He tried to reconnect with me at the beginning of high school, but I wouldn’t let him. I had no need for him. He was, and still is, beneath me. Yeah I’m the one making his danishes, but at least I’m not the one spending upwards of five bucks everyday for something that will take two seconds to destroy.
One day, I finally decided that I had had enough. I did my best to actively avoid him. I’d make Eijirou take the register whenever I saw him walk in. I would bus every table except his. Overall, I did everything I could to make sure that that eyesore knew that he may as well not exist because I sure as hell would not be a part of his life. I did it once and I’ll do it again, easy.
This was proving difficult, to say the least. This dude was persistent as all hell. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was stalking me in some weird romantic plot to kill me in my sleep. I’m smarter than that, of course. He was probably just some writer or some bullshit who spends his days here because he has nowhere better to me.
“Hi, Kacchan." He always smiles at me whenever he can. God, I hate that nickname. Why won’t he give it a rest?
“What do you need, Deku?” I spat at him.
“Oh, um,” he stuttered. This dweeb can’t even form a proper sentence. How in the hell is he ever going to be a writer? “Can I get a slice of banana bread?” He smiled, again.
“That’ll be $3.75. Do you want it toasted?”
“Y-Yes, please!” Deku handed me the money and I toasted his stupid banana bread. “So… how have you been?”
“What? Why do you care?” I scowled. Great! Now he wants to try and talk to me. What a joke.
“Oh, you know. I’m just trying to make pleasant conversation, I guess. Are you still competing? I know you used to like to fight a lot back in high school.” I grimaced as his stupid face turned pink. Can you believe this? He must’ve been using all two of his brain cells to try and talk to me.
“Tch. I gave that up years ago.” I paused. “I work here now, obviously.”
“Of course." He smiled at me again. Can he stop doing that? It’s pissing me off . “You bake everything, right? I mean, I’m assuming so, because you’re usually covered in a layer of flour.” He laughed.
“Sure… ” I looked down and goddamit if he wasn’t right. I wiped my apron and grabbed his banana bread. “Here’s your thing.”
“Thanks! It looks great," he said cheerfully and added some money to the tip jar before he walked back towards his regular table.
I sighed and started to clean again. Everything had been covered in a light layer of flour.
-
I was doing so well, but ever since I told that shrub that I baked all the goods, it’s like I’ve made it even harder to distance myself from him. He’s relentless. Always smiling at me and trying to engage me in conversation. It’s like I’ve somehow emboldened him to try harder with his insane quest to become my friend, I guess? I don’t know what his damn deal is. All I know is that he needs to knock it off. Worthless Eijirou has started to get annoyed at having to always switch to register at a moment’s notice, so he’s been forcing me to take that stalker’s orders. It’s become a bit of a routine at this point. He walks in, I try to hide, and I'm forced to interact with him. He always ordered the same drink but switched up what he ate. He always had to try whatever was new. As of late, he'd been trying to make special requests. As if I would ever consider straying from the golden standard I’ve set the bakery up with. The owner basically lets me do whatever the hell I want because I can bake and he can't. I'm also "hip with the youths" as he put it. Whatever. I make him money and my pastries have won first place at several competitions, so he doesn't complain about anything that I do.
Today, I was unloading some fresh cinnamon rolls into the display when in walked the most unappealing stalk of broccoli I have ever seen in my entire life.
"Good morning, Kacchan. Are those cinnamon buns that I smell?"
"No shit, dumbass." What an idiot. "Did you want one or something?"
"Yeah!" He reached for his wallet as I plated one of the rolls.
"And your usual matcha crap?" I asked as I rang in his order. He had the audacity to laugh at me.
"Haha, yeah. I don't think I've ever had the coffee here. I prefer sweet drinks."
"You're not missing anything. That'll be $7.53, but you already knew that." He laughed again as he handed me exact change across the counter. I dumped it in the register and made him his gross, green tea. I bet he dyes his hair with it or something. No way that's natural. I actually made myself laugh before passing him the drink and then going back to putting away the cinnamon rolls, hoping he would leave the counter.
"Um, Kacchan." He started to say.
Fuck.
"What do you want?" I looked up from the display case.
"Um… What do you usually get to drink from here?" He rubbed the back of his pink neck. I thought for a moment, trying to decide if I should bullshit him or actually disclose my secret recipe.
Nah.
"Black coffee. I prefer bitter drinks. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” I asked but obviously couldn’t care less if he needed anything. My glare was all it took for him to sulk to his usual table and sink into the chair. Seconds later I could hear his pencil scratching against a page in his notebook. What did he even write about? I vaguely wondered. It was a stupid, fleeting thought, and I continued with the remainder of my shift. He didn’t bother me again but he did leave me a rather nice tip. That day was a slow one, so I would be the only person working. Maybe entertaining this nerd would have its perks.
-
I spent the next few days testing the milky, grassy colored waters of his irritating marsh. I started small, just answering the questions he threw my way. My favorite color, which pastry I enjoyed making, and other useless knowledge. Honestly, I couldn’t decide if he was an elementary school teacher or just a more forward stalker. Either way, It didn’t take long for the tips to begin flowing in. I didn’t have to say much to satisfy his curiosity.
After a couple weeks, the questions started to get more personal, and believe it or not, he might have finally grown a third brain cell to join the other two: He slowly stopped stuttering around me. It was almost as if he was getting… comfortable. The very thought was revolting, but soon this moron was spending twice as much as he did before, just so that I would say an extra sentence or two towards him. It was pathetic, yet subtly rewarding.
The bell above the door rang as the aforementioned shit-haired man walked through the door. He seemed more cheery than usual. My skin crawled.
“Gooood morning, Kacchan.” He positively beamed at me. I didn’t give a damn what was making him behave this way. However, I figured if I asked him a question, for once, that maybe he’d be more generous that day.
“Why are you so happy today?” I instantly regretted asking. If this guy were a bunny, he'd be flouncing around.
“W-Why?” he stuttered. I must have shocked him. How sad? “Well, it’s because today is a special day." I sighed.
“I’m going to regret asking this. Why is today so special?” I emphasized with my hands before leaning on the counter.
This shitty green hair was really shocked that I didn’t already know what was going on. That just made things even worse.
“Well,” he began and dug through his bag for something, “a certain spiky-haired co-worker of yours let slip that today is your bakerversary!” He handed me a small present that I took hesitantly. “Um, Eiji said that today is your second anniversary working here, and he said a bunch of good things about how awesome of a worker you are and how you choose which things go in the display case and that you get here super early in the morning to bake stuff-”
“For fuck’s sake, Deku. Do you ever shut up?” I reacted without thinking. Before I even realized what had happened, the bell above the door tinkled as he left. For the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t happy to see him go. I looked down at the thing between my hands. He had given me a small pouch of whole coffee beans, my favorite blend. That idiot must have asked Eijirou what to get me, and of course, my friend would blab to my stalker which brand of coffee I liked.
-
The following couple of days were pretty quiet. Now I was the one being avoided. I would have thought that I would be relieved by this, but of course this asshole decided to stop coming in once I actually wanted to talk to him. I needed to correct this. For once in my life, I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I nearly asked Eijirou if he knew how to contact matcha guy until he walked through the door a week later.
“Hi… Could I please get a poppyseed muffin and-”
“Your usual?” I asked. He wasn’t smiling. He nearly did, but then he didn’t.
“No, um, if I could just get some water, I would appreciate it." He handed me money for the muffin. I exchanged it and went to hand him the difference before he held up a hand to stop me. “Keep it." He said and solemnly walked to his designated chair.
I put the coins into the tip jar and stared at him briefly then went back to work. I didn’t even get a chance to apologize. Instead, I just did the same dick move of assuming that I knew what I was talking about. A half hour later, I looked up to see him still at the table, forever writing away in his notebook. Always the same beat up notebook. I wondered, once again, what he was writing. Seeing that his water was nearly gone, I went back to the grind.
“I thought that you might be getting a little thirsty.” He looked up at me with a confused expression as I sat a coffee cup down on his table. “And here is some cream and sugar. Since you usually go with something fairly sweet, you’ll probably want to add a bunch of sugar before you add the cream." I finished and he just stared at me with his mouth slightly open. “Let me know what you think of your roast." I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck as I walked away. I still haven’t apologized, but I know my actions speak volumes more than I could ever articulate myself.
Watching him from behind the counter, I saw him smell the brew before adding way too much sugar and then filling the cup the rest of the way with the cream. He stirred it with the spoon from the saucer and cautiously took a sip. The idiot ended up ruining the cup by adding more sugar to it, of course. Thankfully, he did finish his cup as he wrote.
Hours later, he packed his bag and headed up to the counter. I thought this was weird since he usually just left with a smile and a wave.
"Hey, um, what do I owe you for the coffee?” He examined his wallet, mentally counting the bills and coins.
“It’s free, duh. You didn’t order it, so why would I make you pay for coffee that you already paid for?” I sighed and went back to restocking the cups. Take the hint, you dumb bitch.
“I don’t understand… I didn’t pay for that coffee earlier.” His curls bounced gently as he tilted his head to the side slightly, a curious look on his face.
“Are you deaf? I told you that you already paid for it.” I looked down to the small bag of beans behind the counter. “You had the best cup of coffee that this piece of shit cafe has ever had the pleasure to grace it’s mediocre coffee mugs. Well, second best.” He scrunched his nose a little at me. Did he always look like a lost puppy when he doesn’t understand things? “I had a cup of the same brew earlier, though I didn’t ruin mine with all that sugar and creamer like you did.”
A slow realization dawned on his face. The bridge of his nose turned pink to match his cheeks. Has he always had freckles there? Hmm.
“Ah, well, thank you for sharing your bakerversary coffee with me. That was really nice of you, especially considering I’ve told you before that I prefer sweet drinks” He absent-mindedly scratched at his right bicep.
“And?” I stopped to look at him.
“And what?” Again, his features twisted into those of a puppy. How stupid can this guy be? Does he even understand what common sense means?
“How was it? Did you like it or what, you nerd?”
“O-Oh… It was good.” He smiled appreciatively. “I burnt my tongue a little on the first sip, but the cream and sugar really helped it taste less bitter. Thank you for the recommendation. Anyways, I got to head home. Good night, Kacchan.” With that, he turned on his heel and sped towards the cafe door.
What an odd guy. I mused to myself as I finished closing up for the evening.
-
The next day, I found myself face to face with Eijirou for the first time in a few days. Our schedules had been off due to being slow. My face read “murder” as I cornered him in the back room to yell at him.
“What the fuck, dude? Why are you talking to that matcha bitch? You trying to get hurt?” I pushed him against a shelf with my forearm. He struggled and gasped for air.
“Dude, relax. We were just talking. It’s no big deal. I’m allowed to talk to the customers, you know.”
“Well, no shit, but why the hell are you going around blabbing about me to that stalker?”
“Oh.” He looked genuinely taken aback. “I didn’t know that he was stalking you, bro. I just thought that he was as innocent as he looked.”
I pushed him harder, making him struggle more.
“Don’t talk about me again, to anyone. If I ever even catch a whiff of you doing something as repugnant as this in the future,” I brandished a large knife from within my apron and pointed it at his throat, “I’ll cut your tongue out and serve it to the customers. Got it?”
He nodded vigorously, and I let him go. Heading back to the front of the store, the bell tinkled to indicate a new customer.
“Would you look at that? The man of the hour himself ” Eijirou blurted out before I could stop him. I decided to keep the knife in my apron close to me from now on.
“Haha, Eiji. You’re really funny. Why am I the ‘man of the hour’?” Deku walked up to the counter and browsed the display case.
“We-I mean I was just talking about you to Bakubro about the story that you’re writing.” Eijirou changed his tune after I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Eiji!” Deku blushed and looked appalled. “You weren’t. Please tell me you weren’t.” His eyes flicked at me then back to my coworker.
“Of course not, Izuku. I wouldn’t ever betray your trust like that.” He smiled.
“Yeah, he’ll just spill your whole life story to any extra that walks through the door.”
Deku shifted his gaze towards me as I was nearly finished preparing the cappucino station. Eijirou laughed uncomfortably and continued their conversation as he took the first order of the day.
That day progressed much like any other, boring as all hell. Deku wasn't even annoying me much, which as bothersome as that was, it would have at least made things more interesting. It was a slow day. Eijirou kept trying and failing to apologize to me about not being able to keep his damn mouth shut. It was pathetic, really. We exhausted all our usual topics of conversation.
"Okay," I said as I sighed. "My brain is about to explode from lack of stimulation. Please, for fuck's sake, can we find something interesting to talk about?" I kicked the stool behind the counter. Eijirou thought for a moment before answering.
"Well, if you're interested, I could easily convince Izuku to spend the next 6 hours telling you all about the book he's writing."
"No."
"What? You don't want to know what he's been writing about this whole time?"
"Fuck no. The only thing worse than the boredom I feel right now would be having to listen to that shitty nerd drone on and on about some stupid fantasy." I looked my coworker hard into the eyes until he backed off. I don't understand why he would even suggest that. The worst part of my day is having to take orders from that smiling, condescending asshole.
Yet, I couldn't help but glance towards his table. I could see him muttering under his breath, a hand in his curls, while his pencil frantically stroked the pages of his notebook. He wrote so fast that I'd be surprised if his story was even legible. I chuckled to myself a little at the thought.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think that was a smile on your face," a voice whispered next to me as a hard finger pressed into my cheek. I slapped his hand away and scoffed under my breath.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, shitty hair.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He turned his head out towards the sitting area. “Hey, Izuku!” He shouted, causing the endless mumbling to cease. The curly, green hair bounced gently as he looked up to see who was calling his name.
“Yeah, Eiji?” He sat his pencil down.
“Katsuki wants to know what yo-”
“Shut up and die!” I yelled and punched his upper arm. I rested my left hand on the back of my neck. “We’re bored as all hell. Why don’t you entertain us by sharing whatever the fuck is it you keep inccessantly mumbling about?” I looked away, but not before catching a small glimpse of how damn much his stupid face lit up. Smile widening, eyes lighting up like sparklers, he looked like a kid during Christmas. Disgusting . He grabbed his notebook and ran up to the counter.
“Really, Kacchan? You want to hear my story?” Deku could barely contain himself. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, brimming with excitement.
My eyes scanned the empty establishment. With how slow we had been thus far, I knew we wouldn’t be seeing any other customers for the rest of the day.
“Fine, nerd. Tell us your dumb story.” I sat on the stool behind the counter and crossed my arms. Deku nearly squealed with excitement.
“Okay, okay, okay! So, the setting is a fantasy land called..." he began. I was so sick and tired of doing nothing that I ended up giving this extra my full attention. We talked about his story for nearly an hour before Eijirou went home. It was closing time, but I was transfixed. I couldn't explain it, though I needed to know how the damn story ended. "...and that's as far as I've gotten!" Deku finished with a sigh.
"What? No, it can't end there. Fuckin' hell, Deku. Can you at least tell me how the ending goes?" Before I could stop the words, I found myself asking to hear more. I surprised myself with how eager I was. Shoving the feeling down, I stood up, startling the younger man. "Actually, I need to close up. You should leave," I said rather abruptly.
"O-oh, okay Kacchan." He started to get up from his chair to get his stuff together.
I launched into my closing duties. It didn't take long before he was on his way out. I followed him so that I could lock the door behind him. He stopped and turned to face me.
"Kacchan, thank you for today. I had a lot of fun sharing my story with you." His face flushed, and he shifted from one foot to the other. "Maybe tomorrow, if you have time, we could go over it some more?"
"Deku, I-"
"I'll do my best to write some more all day tomorrow so that we'll have enough to go over. Okay?" He beamed at me then headed out the door without waiting for a response. I peered out the glass, securing the lock as I followed his back with my eyes. Why does he care so much about what I think? I don't even like him that much. I stopped on my way back to the counter. That much? Haha, wait, no. I don't like that idiot at all. I hate him… right? I shook my head and slapped my face. Of course I didn't care about some second-rate writer who spends his days in a coffee shop run by people he went to highschool with. That's more pathetic than having to be the one serving assholes like him.
-
The next day, he was fucking insufferable. Another cup of decent coffee was ruined with too much sugar and cream. Then he wanted to try iced coffee, because he read that it's sweeter. Before I knew it, the sun had gone down, and he was still there, click-clacking away at his laptop that was covered in stickers. It was only then I noticed that he didn't have his usual notebook with him.
"Good evening, Kacchan." The face that greeted me was one of ridiculous gratification. "I got several pages written today if you-"
"I can't. I have stuff to do after work so I need to close the store early tonight. Maybe some other time."
"Oh." His face fell. "I understand... Well, I guess next time, then?"
"Yeah, sure." I mumbled without looking up from my task.
"Okay, yeah, next time." Solemnly, Deku packed his things and left without another word, just a glance back in my direction before pushing open the exit.
I covered my face with my hands and sighed. Something about this was unsettling to me. Now, if I can just figure out what that is so that I can fix it, then I would be great, I thought to myself as I sat on the stool behind the counter. I had a new feeling in the pit of my stomach, which was very uncomfortable. It felt strange, foreign even. All I knew was that I wanted it gone. At the time, I truly didn't understand it at all and resorted to texting Eijirou for advice.
Rioter4Lyfe:
What's up, Bakubro?
KingofMurder:
Don't ever tell anyone about this, or I'll kill you. I need your help.
Rioter4Lyfe:
My help? Lol whatever could you need me for?
KingofMurder:
This is gonna sound crazy, but do you ever get this feeling in your gut when you see someone sad for no reason?
Rioter4Lyfe:
Sad? Who's sad?
Were you mean to a customer?
KingofMurder:
I don't give a shit about being mean to those fuckers. You know that. I'm talking about… broccoli head -_-
Rioter4Lyfe:
What did you do to him, Katsuki?
KingofMurder:
Piss off. I didn't do anything to him. He just left all defeated or something. Hell if I know.
Rioter4Lyfe:
*sigh* Okay, run me through what happened before he left.
KingofMurder:
I TOLD YOU NOTHING HAPPENED!
But fine! I know you won't let it go until I tell you.
All that happened was that he came up to talk to me about his stupid story and I told him I was busy after work. Then he left all weird afterwards. That's it. I dunno how you'll solve this mystery from that but good luck.
Rioter4Lyfe:
Bakubro, it sounds like you hurt his feelings. You should probably apologize, dude.
KingofMurder:
Apologize? Pftt, I didn't even do anything! Thanks for nothing. Guess I'll figure this one out of my own .
While we went back and forth for a bit, I finished closing up and headed home. After dinner, I laid in my bed and stared up at the ceiling. The only sounds were the whirring of my ceiling fan and the discord of conflicting thoughts in my head. I just couldn't wrap my brain around what spikey hair had said. I held firm to the misconceived notion that I had done nothing to hurt Deku's feelings. At least, nothing more than I normally did. Yes, I admit that I did lie to Deku. I didn't have anything to do after work that night, but the idea of being alone with Deku for an extended period of time felt wrong. No, bizarre? Unsettling? I couldn't quite place my finger on the correct word to describe the situation. All I knew was that I didn't get much sleep that night.
-
The next morning, I awoke with a terrible headache, which pissed me off. Today was not going to be a good day.
It dragged on the same way as every other day, only I felt like I was back in high school. I was even more quick to anger than usual, and I did not do well with idiotic requests. When you walk through this door, you’re not walking into some chain that doesn’t even understand the names of it’s own drinks, you’re walking into an actual cafe. I know what the fuck a cappucino is, dumbass. You’re the one who doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about, I argued with no one but myself.
Anyways, my headache probably cost us more than a few customers, but I did not care. Thankfully, I was able to convince Eijirou to come in and cover the rest of my shift. However, what I did not expect was for Deku to be there, specifically to make sure that I got home alright.
“This is really unnecessary. I can take care of my own damn self. I don’t need a sitter, Deku. Go home.”
“But Eijirou asked me to make sure you got home alright. He’s very worried about you, Kacchan.” He looked to the pavement. “We don’t have to talk or anything. He just wants me to literally make sure that you get home okay. He said that your headaches can get pretty bad and sometimes you black out-”
“Fine!” I yelled back at him, instantly regretting it as my head ached. “You can follow me home. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Just…” I sighed. “Just do whatever shitty hair asked you to do and then leave me alone. Got it?” Without waiting for a response, I turned on the spot and headed in the direction of my apartment. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far of a walk, only 15-20 minutes depending on traffic. Days like these made me wish I had taken that old man up on his offer to live above the bakery before he rented it out to some nobody.
I padded ahead, the sounds of the street felt like they were drilling in my ears. I gritted my teeth and focused on the task at hand, getting home. Deku strolled behind me, and for the second time that day, I was reminded of high school. The closer we got to my apartment, the foggier my brain seemed to become. Each step made it harder and harder to focus until I felt a jerk around my neck and chest. Next thing I knew, a car barreled down the street right in front of me. I blinked my eyes a few times before I realized that Deku was staring at me as if my head had suddenly become a shark. He was frantically trying to get me to respond to something that he was saying, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears. The throbbing of my head was worse than before. As I collected myself on the sidewalk, I held my head in my hands. Somehow, I could tell that Deku had stilled. Next, I felt an arm on my shoulder which made me look at him. Worry strained his face, his eyebrows turned upward and his trademark smile nowhere to be seen. Finally, he was… vulnerable.
“Kacchan! Please answer me.” I finally heard him. I looked to his hand and brushed it off before standing up again. “Hey, woah, maybe you should slow down, Kacchan. You nearly lost your head.”
“And you’re going to lose yours if I don’t get home right now. Come on, I’ll rest then.” I started off towards my apartment again. He continued behind me, not saying another word. After a couple more blocks, I took a deep breath and slightly turned my head back his way. “Listen, I’m sorry about how harsh I am to you. I’m not trying to upset you or make you feel bad I just don’t know how to be nice. How the hell I ended up in customer service is beyond me. Just… just don’t take what I say too seriously, okay?”
Deku perked up, glad to have me speaking to him again.
“Thank you, Kacchan. It… means a lot to hear you say that.” He chuckled a little. “I was honestly starting to wonder if you hated me. I mean, we grew up together and stuff, but we never really interacted until high school and even then it was just kind of this superficial back and forth, almost like a competition sort of-” I had stopped and let him bump into me. I turned to face him, trying my best not to look too severely at him in my current state.
“I don’t… I don’t hate you, Deku. Okay? It’s… Let’s just say that it’s complicated, alright? I’m complicated as fuck and the way I act and talk to everyone is really just-”
“Complicated?” Deku chuckled as his cheeks rounded in a smile.
“Yeah. Let’s get going. We’re almost there. Then you can continue on with whatever else you have to do today.”
“Okay!” he chimed and walked along next to me.
The rest of the way was relatively relaxed. His voice was extremely irritating due to my migraine, but it felt better to just let him talk than to be pissy at him. He seemed a lot happier that way, and then I didn’t have to think about him looking at me like I was going to explode any second.
We reached my doorstep, and I pulled my keys from my pocket, unlocking the door. I pushed it open and walked inside.
“Um, Kacchan?”
“Grab some tea or a snack or something. Help yourself.” Going further in, I pulled an ice pack from my freezer and took off my shirt, leaving on a tight, black tank top. Laying on the couch, I placed the ice pack in a towel before positioning it beneath the back of my neck. I bundled up my shirt across my eyes and sighed. “Are you going to come in or just stand there at the door like an idiot, Deku?” I could hear him shift in surprise before anxiously taking off his red boots.
He walked towards the kitchen and put on the kettle.
“Cabinet left of the sink," I instructed him.
“Oh, thank you!” He grabbed a cup and helped himself to some tea. Moments later, a rustling came from next to me, indicating that he sat in the chair next to my couch. He unwrapped a small cake to have with his tea but was otherwise silent. I groaned in frustration.
“For fuck’s sake. Don’t just sit there all silent and creepy. Talk to me or something. Just don’t make me talk anymore. I feel like my skull is going to implode.”
“O-Oh, okay. Um, do you want to, uh, maybe hear more about my story?” Deku shifted uncomfortably and drank some more of his tea. "Sorry I don't have anything more lively to discuss. My personal life can be kind of boring at times, haha."
“Sure, talk about whatever you want to, you damn nerd.” I shifted, trying to get more comfortable.
Deku chuckled and immediately launched into way too many details about his story. His constant talking made my head throb, but it was definitely better than silence. I can’t stand the silence. Before I knew it, the pain and my vision faded away as I fell asleep. Later that evening, I awoke with a start. My neck was freezing and wet, the bottom of my hair clinging to the nape of my neck. The room was dark, immediately clueing me into the fact that it was night. “Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath as I slowly sat up. Looking around to take in the whole room, I noticed a blanket covering my legs. “Dammit, Deku.” I stood up, wobbling slightly, and made my way to the kitchen. I grabbed a glass of water from the sink. My headache was mostly gone, but water always helped anyways. I didn't even know what time it was, much less how long it had been since I last had anything to eat or drink. I opened the fridge to find a container of onigiri with a note that read:
Kacchan-I hope you don't mind that I left and let myself back in.
Please enjoy these when you're feeling better. Eijirou said you didn't have anything to eat today, so I made you some onigiri. Don't eat them too fast. Get well soon. -Deku
I scoffed and crushed the note. Putting my foot on the lever at the bottom of my trash to make the lid open, I made to throw the ball away, but stopped short of releasing it. Did he think that, as an adult, I couldn't take care of myself? I thought. My arm lowered slightly. On the other hand, could he have been sincere? Did he actually care about me and want me to get better? I trudged back over to the counter where the bento box sat. I hesitantly opened it and found three perfect, triangular balls, each a different flavor. I just stared at them in shock. These are homemade… Did he make these? Did he make these for me?
I slumped towards the living room and thudded onto my couch. I turned on something to watch as background noise and grabbed a triangle. Biting into the rice, my mouth began to water. They were absolutely delicious. In no time at all, I devoured them. Nothing in my life had tasted as good as Deku’s onigiri. The rice was cooked perfectly and well seasoned with different furikake in each. It was just enough food for me, though it was so good I wished for more. I spent the rest of the evening thinking about the past few days. I needed to figure out how I had gone from being disgusted with Deku to finding myself wanting to text Eijirou to see if he would tell Deku to make me more onigiri.
I slept well that night.
-
Friday felt unnatural. Usually a day of increasing business, it felt like any other Tuesday. I didn't really dwell on it too hard. I figured it was due to some reason or another. Maybe some new anime cafe opening or something downtown stealing our business. Tch. Whatever. Less coffee for me to make, but that also meant fewer goods to bake.
On the other hand, Deku had just walked through the door, beaming and carrying his laptop bag. He looked nice today, somehow. Maybe he had on new clothes or did something special to his curls. Either way, the sun seemed to radiate off of him. What the hell was that about?
"Kacchan, good morning! Are you feeling better?" he asked unprompted as he strode towards the counter to peer through the glass at today’s offerings.
“Um, yeah. I… My headache is gone. I got a lot of sleep yesterday and last night.” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Oh, good! It would really suck if you still had a headache and tried to come into work again. I might have to walk you home like yesterday.” He smiled and laughed in my direction. I couldn’t help but smile a little in return. He was infectious.
“Yeah, anyways. I guess I owe you one, as well as a thank you.” I reached behind the counter and grabbed the container that we left in my fridge. “This is yours. I washed it and everything so I could give it back to you. Thank you for the meal. It was… very good,” I stated simply, trying to mask how much I appreciated the kind gesture.
“Thanks!” He grabbed the container from the counter. “I’m glad you enjoyed them. They’re very easy to make, so it was no trouble at all.”
“Oh, really?” I was a little shocked. They seemed so well made. I guess I had figured that they would have taken a long time to put together.
“Yeah, of course.” He paused and searched my face. “Do you… not know how to make onigiri, Kacchan?” His question made me blush slightly. Gross.
“I-I probably learned how to as a kid, but once I got into baking, I basically forgot how to make anything else. Why? Are you gonna look down on me for not knowing how to make damn rice balls?” My anger flared.
He waved his hands frantically. “Oh no, nothing like that. I just,” he scratched at his freckled cheek, “wanted to know if you wanted to learn how to make them, maybe. I’m a pretty decent home cook. My mom taught me a lot, being a single mother and all. She wanted me to be able to take care of myself. I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I could teach you, if you want. Just let me know what sort of flavors you want to make, and I can gather the ingredients.” He looked at me so hopefully Deku was practically buzzing with excitement at the prospect of helping me out. It made my stomach churn, but I felt that it would be a bad idea to turn him down.
“Okay, fine. Come by around close. We can use the kitchen here. Don’t be late.” I felt like I was putting my pride on the line for this. The last thing I wanted was to be embarrassed by not knowing how to cook a “very easy” dish, as Deku so eloquently put it. He stayed at the shop for a while to write and then left about an hour and a half before closing time. He waved back at me through the window as he left. I didn’t know why at the time, but something stirred in my chest as he waved at me. I somehow felt a little lighter. It was nice.
Come closing time, I was starting to get anxious. It was five minutes till, and he still hadn’t shown back up. I knew it… This was all just a ploy to make me feel ridiculous. I should have kn-Oh, there he is.
“What the fuck took you so long, you damn nerd?” I instinctively spat at him as he walked through the door. He was slightly out of breath as if he had been running.
“Sorry, Kacchan!” He bowed at me. “I just wanted to make sure that I had everything that we would need. I didn’t know what filling you would like so I just brought as many as I had. Do you still like spicy tuna?"
“Tch. It’s fine. Just hurry up and get inside so I can lock the fucking door.”
Deku hurried in then paused, clearly unsure of what to do with himself. Of course he wouldn’t know which way the kitchen was.
“Follow me, I guess.” I headed behind the counter and through a swinging door, into the kitchen. It wasn’t fancy, by any means, but it was definitely a sight better than my shitty apartment’s kitchen. “So, what will we need?” I turned my head back towards Deku and found him in unbridled awe of the space he found himself in. Eyes wide and mouth agape, I just stared at him until he came back down to Earth. I cleared my throat, breaking him of his reverie.
“Ah, s-sorry Kacchan. What did you say?” He rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed by his daydreaming.
“I asked you what we would need. I assume a rice cooker, not that we have one here, but I have a pot we could use." I reached into a cabinet and pulled out the pot in question. However, when I stood straight again, I realized that Deku had brought a rice cooker. Not only that, but it was clearly used, meaning that the bunny-themed cooking implement belonged to Deku. As the pieces clicked together in my brain, I did something that I hadn't done in a long time. I laughed hard. Nearly doubling over, I couldn't believe my eyes. This fucking nerd owns and operates a rice cooker with depictions of a floral landscape that also has bunnies frolocking across the fields.
"Kacchan," he said quietly, his cheeks turning a bright pink. "W-What's so funny?" Deku pretended not to know why I was laughing. It didn't work, clearly. I am certainly the more observant of us two.
"Are you fucking with me, Deku? Is that cute-ass rice cooker yours?" I got out between laughs.
"Yeah, what of it?" He pouted and crossed his arms, challenging me with his stare. I chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Nothing. It's fine. How much rice do we need?"
Soon we were just chatting while we waited for the rice to finish. It didn't take long to prep the fillings, so we spent a good amount of time actually talking for once. We went into what we had been doing since high school, how our families had been, etc. Oddly enough, it wasn't as bizarre or annoying as I thought it was going to be. We even continued chatting as we put together the onigiri.
"Tell me, when did you learn to make these?" I watched him, slightly in awe. It was such a simple recipe and yet, he made it look as easy as breathing. He stopped to consider my question.
"I don't really remember when it was, but my mom taught me how to do them. When I was a kid, I had an All Might nori cutter and was obsessed with onigiri. I begged my mom to teach me how to make them, that way I had an excuse to use it more often." Deku beamed as he replayed the memories in his mind. His smile was infectious. I could feel the corners of my own mouth curling upwards, against my will, as he regaled his childhood. Before I knew it, my turn had come.
I followed his instructions, trying and failing miserably to form the triangles between my hands. It didn't take long for my frustration to boil over.
"Here, let me see your rice."
"Tch, fine." I dumped the rice into his hands and went to wash mine off when I heard a distinct sound of displeasure come from across the room. I looked back and huffed. "What is it?"
"Well, it's no wonder your onigiri aren't sticking together, this rice is very warm. That doesn't make any sense... It's definitely cooler in the pot." He launched into a bout of rambling.
"Oh, is that all?” I wiped my hands a little on my apron. “Well, if that’s the problem, I can explain that. I have really warm hands. It’s part of why all the food that I get to knead or mold with my hands turn out so great.” I wiggled my fingers.
“Oh…” Deku blinked a few times at me, then a small blush settled across his face. “Oh okay, so maybe you could hold some ice before trying to sculpt the onigiri or something.”
“Sure, that might work, I guess.” I shrugged.
I don’t know how long we spent in the kitchen that evening. All I remember is that it was well past dark when we did eventually leave. I locked the door to the cafe and said my farewell to Deku when he stopped me.
“Wait… Um, if you’re going straight home after this, we could just walk together?” Beneath the light of the nearest streetlamp, I could tell that he was embarrassed to ask. “I realized the other day that I actually don’t live too far from you. Again, sorry for intruding in your space.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” I waved him off and considered his proposition for a second. “It’d be awkward if we just walked silently together in the same direction. Well, awkward when I’m not harbouring a terrible migraine.”
Deku chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. Why was he getting so embarrassed? “Haha, yeah. That would be kind of weird, huh?”
I went ahead, walking in the direction of our respective apartments. Deku followed along and chatted animatedly with me about another chapter of his story that he wanted to write. Most of my walk was spent in contemplation, only offering a different perspective to some of the points that he made. Essentially, I was a soundboard for him to bounce ideas off of. I barely spoke at all, which was fine. I hate to admit it, but I actually rather enjoyed this interaction of ours. I don’t know why, though. It was just so simple, and for nearly ten minutes, I forgot that anyone else existed.
-
Weeks passed like this in a similar manner. I worked at the cafe. Deku would come in and write, then we would walk home together. It wasn’t everyday, but it was often enough that we fell into a routine. Without realizing it, Deku and I had become friends. We exchanged numbers and before long we even spent time together outside of our afternoon walks. Deku, Eijirou, and I would watch movies, play video games, and go to local bars/clubs together.
A few months later, I found myself staring at the screen of Deku’s phone, reading a conversation between him and a former classmate of ours.
“She wants to have a mini-reunion?” I questioned him.
“Yeah! Doesn’t that sound like fun?” Deku bounced a little in excitement. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen Ochaco and Tsuyu. I wonder how Momo and Denki are doing. Ah, whatever happened to…” I smiled softly as he began rambling to himself. He did this a lot when he either got too excited about or too focused on something. I quietly speculated to myself whether or not he mutters like this in private as well. The thought almost made me laugh, though I held back so as to not interrupt him. I ended up lost in thought when a finger unexpectedly poked my shoulder, jostling me back to reality.
“Hah, what?” I shook my head lightly and looked from the fingertip on my shoulder to Deku’s face. “Sorry, what’d I miss?”
“I was asking you if you wanted to go to the meetup. I know you got along with most of our class, although you never really seemed to interact with too many people aside from Eiji, sometimes Todoroki,” he mused.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I shifted uncomfortably. “I was a real fucking asshole in high school. I highly doubt that many people would be excited to see my mug again.”
“Aww, Kacchan, don’t worry about that. Sure, a lot of us were intimidated by you, a lot of us . On the other hand, I’m sure everyone would love to meet the not-as-much-of-an-asshole Kacchan!” He smiled brightly at me again. Why does he always smile at me like that? It feels… weird.
“Fine, Deku. I’ll think about it. However, if everyone else is going, I don’t want to be the only person not there. I’d rather spend the evening alone in a corner than miss it entirely and have to hear about it from you and Eijirou. Fuck that noise.” Deku chuckled and grabbed his phone to text back Ochaco.
“Mkay! I’ll let Ochaco know that you’ll be there.” He winked at me and walked slowly back to his table as he tried to multitask. I watched him for a moment prior to returning back to work.
-
Later that day, Deku texted me the details of the meetup. If I’m honest, I was very anxious about going. I hadn’t been lying when I told Deku that I wasn’t sure if anyone from our class would want to see me again after all this time. As the date drew nearer, I couldn't help but find myself getting excited about seeing them again. As much as I was a dick back then, I did enjoy watching my classmates interact. We had our cliques like any other group of kids. We fought over stupid shit and encouraged each other on tests. Overall, we got along and worked well together, or at least everyone else did. Back then, all I wanted was to be the best. I knew I was the best and that I deserved to be everyone’s favorite. I thought everyone wanted to be my friend yet were all too intimidated by me to even try, and that’s the way I liked it. I wanted to be respected and admired. I was a total pompous dick.
Life after high school humbled me. I chilled out and settled down. I still have a short temper. Nonetheless, the fuse is a lot longer than it used to be so, give me credit for that, at least. Maybe one day I’ll have a firm grip on my emotions. I’m not there yet. I’m working on it, though. Working in customer service forces me to keep them in check, at least while the shop is open.
In the early morning, when all the lights are off and the sun hasn’t risen, that’s my favorite time of the day. It’s cooler, quiet, and I’m by myself in the shop’s kitchen baking an assortment of goods for the day. It’s no secret that all of our goods are baked fresh every morning. We even sell them at half price for the last hour that we’re open so that none go to waste. That is, if there are even any left. We’re not known for our shit coffee. Oh, no. We’re known because our breads, pastries, cakes, etc. are the best in the whole damn city. Everyone knows that. I guess, in a way, I did achieve my dream of being the best, even if no one knows it's me. I think Deku and Eijirou are the only two people, besides the owner, that know that I make everything for the store first thing in the morning. It helps deflate my ego.
As the date of the get-together drew closer, I grew more and more restless. Worries upon worries compounded in my subconscious, trapping me in a downward spiral. Would everyone still hate me? Would they think that the way I am now is all an act? These thoughts and more swirled in my brain, clouding my thoughts for days on end leading up to the event. I even became distant to Deku and Eijirou during this time.
The evening before our little reunion, I heard a knock on my door.
I lifted my head up from my hand and looked towards the door. Waiting a beat, there came another knock. I removed myself from the chair at my dining room table and opened the door. A nervous-looking Deku appeared before me. I didn’t know how to react so I just stared at him until he spoke.
“Um, hi Kacchan.” He shifted from one leg to the other. “Could I come in? I need to talk to you about something.”
Without words, I stepped back and pulled the door open wider. Deku thanked me then stepped in. I headed back to my spot at the dining room table and sipped my cinnamon whiskey. Soon Deku was sitting across from me wearing some guest slippers.
“So, um, how do I start?” he began, more to himself than to me. “Eijirou and I have noticed that you haven’t been quite yourself lately.” He paused. “I’ve started to wonder if the pressure of seeing everyone again is getting to you, and I thought that maybe you would want to talk about it? Correct me if I’m wrong, then I can go or whatever.” Deku sat in his chair awkwardly as he waited for me to respond.
I was lost in the amber color of the alcohol in my glass. I held the glass and twisted my wrist to swirl the liquid gently as I considered what Deku had said. Should I let him in and share my fears? Should I dismiss him entirely? How much have I had to drink so far tonight? I looked up at Deku and his image was blurry. It was hard for me to concentrate on my thoughts and on him. I had too much, and I didn't care.
“You’re not wrong. I haven’t been myself lately.” I looked back down at my glass as anger bubbled inside of me. I tried to push it down, to force it away from the forefront of my thoughts. However, being intoxicated made it so much harder than it normally was. Unfortunately, the anger won. “Fuck you for looking down on me like this. I’m not some fluffy show dog that you get to poke and prod and judge like it’s your damn job.” I spat. His eyes were wide in shock, his eyebrows turned upward, and his mouth struggled to form the words on the tip of his tongue.
“I… I don’t think of you that way. I’m not judging you. I just want to help you, Kacchan.” He reached for my hand, and I smacked it away. My face grew dark as my restraints on my emotions became undone.
“I don’t need your fucking help, De-ku.” I enunciated his name to insult him. “Keep your nose out of my fucking business, why don’t you? Actually, why don’t you just leave? Why are you even here, you useless nerd? Go home and leave me to my scotch, because I am fine. I don’t need your help, and I don’t need you!” The words spilled forth from my mouth without my permission. Instantly, I anguished over each of them. I didn’t mean a single one, and yet, I couldn’t take them back. I screamed inside my head, cursing myself for this as Deku sat there, mortified by what I had just said.
His emotions were plain as day. Tears spilled over the edges of his eyelashes, moving quickly down his cheeks. “F-Fine, Kacchan.” It hurt him to get up and leave the table. I could tell he wanted to stay but knew that he was about to run away again. “I’ll tell everyone not to expect you tomorrow.” He sniffled. “I’ll let them know that you’ll be here… fucking your scotch bottle.”
Before I could respond, he was out the door, slippers tossed aside haphazardly, and the door to my apartment slammed shut.
I downed the rest of my glass in a single gulp and went to bed.
Eyes struggling to focus, I stared at my contact listing for Deku. My thumb hovered over the “call” and “text” buttons, afraid to tap either one. I longed to apologize. I hadn’t realized it until I said it, but I needed him in a way that it took me a long time to comprehend. In that moment of heat, of anger, of fear when I watched him leave, everything about Deku clicked into place for me.
I was in love with him.
My heart broke to see him cry. It crumbled further as he said things to hurt me, even though I could tell he didn’t mean any of it. If I had been sober, perhaps I could have forced my damn legs to move, to chase him and apologize.
I plugged my phone into it’s charger and stripped down to my boxers and tank top. Crawling under my sheets, the gears in my head turned wildly as I fought to find the right words to say. My thoughts were too jumbled, however. I couldn’t think straight. The heat of the moment was gone but the revelation of why it hurt still lingered. I knew that the only thing to do would be to sleep on it and figure things out the next day. I closed my eyes, quietly shaming myself for what just happened. How the hell do I fix this?
-
The next morning was brutal. My head and heart pounded as memories from the previous night flooded my field of vision. The remorse I felt oozed from every pore of my body as I struggled to wash it away in the shower. Thankfully, we closed the cafe today in celebration of the reunion, so I could sleep in and spend the day getting everything ready.
Following the list that Mina had sent Ochaco, I meticulously prepared everyone’s favorite deserts and a few of the shop’s best-selling items. I cleaned the shop top to bottom and dressed up the tables and walls. By the time I was done, the shop was nearly unrecognizable. As I plated the last of the items on a banquet table, I was startled by a tinkling of the bell above the front door. Knowing that it should have been locked, I quickly turned to ambush the intruder and found myself face to face with Eijirou.
“Dude, you scared the shit out of me! That door was supposed to be locked.” I growled at him.
“Well, excuse me, Princess, but did you forget that I also work here?” He held up his work keys and the tension in my shoulders released instantly.
“Sorry.” I sighed and went back to plating. “I’m very on edge.”
“Haha, I figured you were.” He paused to consider his choice of words. “Deku told me about last night." I froze and then slowly turned to look at him.
“What… did he say?” I asked as Eijirou avoided eye contact.
“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know that he’s hurt, and I’m guessing he’ll try to avoid you for a while. At least, that’s what he used to do in high school, so he might respond differently now. I don’t know what happened between you two…”
“Good!”
“However, I think that you need to apologize to him, bro. You really hurt his feelings, in more ways than you know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, meathead?” I glared at him. I could tell he was hiding something. He raised his hands to signify that he wouldn’t be going any further than that.
“It’s not my place to say, just trust me when I tell you that you need to say you’re sorry. Now,” he picked up a basket of nearby silverware rolls, “let’s get this party started!”
-
The rest of the set up went smoothly. Soon enough, the shop was bouncing with music and everyone from our highschool class. With the extra tables, it was a little bit of a tight squeeze, but thankfully we also had a patio that extended to the sidewalk. Chatter exploded throughout the venue as everyone just had to catch up with one another. It was almost nauseating, except that it was deeply infectious.
I spent the whole evening talking with everyone while keeping an eye out for Deku. As I prepared for the event, I decided that I should give him space. I didn’t know if he had told anyone except Eijirou what had happened. Based on how happy everyone was to see me, I didn’t think that he had.
A few hours later, the party began to wind down as the first couple of people took their leave. Iida had work early the next morning, Yuga, Hanta, and Minoru had another party to hit, and a few others left. Mainly, those that remained were most of the girls, Eijirou, Shota and Fumikage, along with Deku and myself. I was honestly surprised to see Deku still here. The rest of us were gathered around a few tables inside, the night breeze a little too chilling for this time of year. They warmed their skin with a few cocktails, myself as the impromptu bartender. After last night, I don’t think I would have had the courage to face Deku if I started drinking again.
Eventually, he made his way to the counter. Hoping to catch him off guard, I parroted our trademark morning greeting.
“The usual?” I asked, forcing down my nerves and adding a small smile to my face. The corner of his mouth twitched as he forced back some laughter. His resolve to continue to appear stoned-faced to me had clearly wavered as the party dragged on and his alcohol intake increased.
“No, thanks. I don’t drink scotch.” Ouch… “I’ll have a mojito, I think. And could I get a strawberry gin and tonic for Mina?”
“Sure, right away, Midoriya.” I saw the twinge of pain at hearing his surname as I made the drinks. It was mean of me, but I don’t handle being insulted well and he knew that. I placed his drinks on the counter a couple minutes later and he went to grab them. I didn’t know if I would have another chance to speak to him tonight, so I rashly decided to grab his wrists, leaving him a little flustered. “We need to talk.”
“Like hell we do.” He snapped his wrists from my hands. “I have nothing more to say to you, Bakugou.” Deku grabbed the drinks as he spat my last name and went back to his table.
I plopped back down on my stool and thought long and hard. HOW do I fix this? I didn’t think that I could just come right out and tell him that I had been extremely anxious about today going terribly. Would he have believed me if I had told him that I was horrible at managing my panic attacks and had nightmares every night for the past week about our entire class hating my guts? About them making fun of the shop and saying that the cakes and breads and decorations were shit? That it hurt most of all in those dreams Deku was the first person to say something that made me cry? No, I couldn’t come right out and say all of that. He had no reason to believe me.
Sooner than later, I heard a chair scraping as Deku stood up, putting on his jacket.
“Aww, do you really have to go, Izuku?” Ochaco looked up at him, a small flush on her face from perhaps having one too many fruity cocktails.
“Yes, Ochaco, I already told you that I have an important meeting in the morning with a potential publisher. I really don’t want to be late.” He leaned down and hugged everyone at the table in turn. “You all have my number, so use it. Text me soon, and let’s hang out again, okay?” Deku flashed them that smile that made my stomach do backflips.
They said their sad farewells, and he headed toward the door. This is my chance! I stood up, nearly knocking the stool over.
“Deku!” I called across the shop. He froze, hand on the door and looked back at me. Actually, everyone had looked back at me. “Wait!” I leaped over the counter and he hurried out the door. I ran outside to catch him. There was no stopping me now.
“Izuku, please wait!” The sound of his first name rolling off my tongue sounded foreign, yet right. It was finally time I stopped calling him by that shitty nickname if I wanted him to take me seriously. “Izuku.” I bounded up to where he stood, paralyzed. “We need to talk.”
“Like I said before, Bakugou, I don’t have anything else to say to you. Now, please, leave me alone. Let me walk out of your life like you so clearly want.” His voice was shaking. I couldn’t tell if there was something holding him back or if he was attempting to propel himself forward through this. Either way, this is not how things were going to end between us. I wouldn’t let him.
“Even if you don’t have anything to say to me, I need to let you know… I have things that I need to say, things that you have to understand, then you can choose if you really want to walk out of my life forever. Please… just look at me.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, gently turning him towards me. In the moonlight and the streetlamps, his face shone brightly with wet trails down his cheeks.
“Fine.” He turned towards me and wiped his face. “You have five minutes, but then you have to let me go. I will not allow myself to be fucked around by you again. So say what you have to say.” His hands curled into fists, and I knew he was forcing himself to say all of this. I could tell by his body language that it hurt him to say these things to me, that he was hurting. His inner turmoil was laid out in every feature of his wonderful, kind face.
“You were right, Izuku.” He stopped shaking for a moment and really looked at me for the first time that night. “I was so scared, so fucking anxious about tonight that I lost sleep. I couldn’t keep anything down if I ate more than a snack or two. I’ve been having nightmares… nightmares so horrible that I wake up crying.” Now it was my turn to spill my emotions on the pavement. “I thought… I thought everyone would hate me, that they would think that in all these years that I haven’t changed at all. Or that they would think it was all an act to get them to like me. You have no idea how unjustifiably horrified I’ve been about tonight… but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters, because I AM an asshole. I should have come to you or to Eijirouu with this. I should have asked for help or something instead of keeping this all inside of me. When you came over last night, I should have talked to you instead of pushing you away by hurting you.”
Izuku didn’t say anything. I could tell that he was listening intently, waiting for me to say something to hurt him.
“No matter how bad it got, I should have never treated you that way. You should have never had to hear me say such terrible things to you like that. Izuku, I’m so sorry. For all of it. I’m sorry for what I said, I’m sorry for how I acted, and I never want to hurt you ever again, because… because…” I fumbled for the words. I was so close to saying what my heart desired. Staring into his green eyes under the moonlight suddenly had me at a loss for words. He was so beautiful, and I hurt him. Was I just apologizing to assuage my own guilt or because I truly cared about him? Was I trying to tell him how I felt because I thought he would forgive me or because I needed him to know? The insecurities going through my head must have shown on my face.
“Kacchan?” he whispered. Izuku looked like he was holding his breath and that his heart was beating wildly. The want in his eyes grew when I looked into them. He needed to know just as badly as I had to say it.
“I never want to hurt you ever again,” I started and paused briefly, “because I love you, Izuku. I love you too much to ever be the source of your sadness ever again. I love y-” I was cut off. I could have sworn I saw a flash, or maybe it was just the night light on his hair. Either way, I was taken aback, nearly tackled down as Izuku grabbed my wet face and kissed me.
He kissed me…
I quickly wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, matching his enthusiasm with an equal, if not greater, fervor. I had never felt like this with anyone else and if this was my one moment to prove myself to him, you bet your ass I was going to give him all that I had. Our lips moved in unison, parting and crashing together like waves on a beach. He was delicious against my tongue, tasting like mint and buttercream. He smelled even better. Soon, I was intoxicated with him. My hands roamed up his back and into his hair as he latched his arms around my neck, pulling himself up every so slightly to match my height. I think we would have fucked right there on the sidewalk if it hadn’t been for the ridiculous need to breathe boiling over in my lungs. We broke apart and the rest of the world came into view. My ears slowly stopped ringing and I looked in the direction of Izuku’s gaze.
All of our classmates still in the shop had come outside after us and were now cheering. Whooping and hollering, I prayed that we wouldn’t receive a noise complaint the next day. Izuku turned red and hid his face in my chest.
“Oh, wow. They saw the whole thing.” Only I could hear him mumble. I snickered and placed a kiss to his forehead then we headed back inside to enjoy the rest of the evening and to celebrate our newfound love for one another. Drinks, desserts, and more were to be had. The reunion turned into a jubilee combined with all the best quips our former classmates could muster.
“Goddamn you two, finally!”
“Do you two want some alone time in the kitchen?”
“I’ve GOT to tell everyone who left what just happened!”
We were forced into pictures and sing-alongs. The party that had been winding down raged on, harder than before. It didn’t last long, though. Old by no means, we were still now adults with responsibilities and had less energy than we used to. Izuku and I sat at a table, hand in hand as everyone slowly headed home in their Lyfts, cabs, and the like. I rubbed my thumb across Izuku’s hand as it sat on the table. I felt high, the luckiest guy in the whole world. Well, almost.
“You know, you haven’t said it back yet.” I turned to him.
“Hah? What haven’t I said?” He blinked sleepily.
“I told you I loved you, Izuku.” His head instantly popped off the table. Suddenly wide awake, he looked distressed.
“Oh, god, I’m so sorry! I mean, I thought it was obvious by my reaction and everything, but you’re right, I never actually said it back. I’m sorry, Kacchan. Oh, what do you even think of me-”
“Izuku, you’re rambling again.” I nudged him.
“Ah, s-sorry.” He kissed me once more and pulled back just enough to whisper against my lips. “I love you too.”