Chapter Text
A box slammed onto the table.
A chunk of snow dislodged from the window
A wooden spoon rotating around a mixing jug with a ring.
A declaration so loud the entire city would’ve heard it.
“I WILL BAKE, THE FINEST OF CAKES”
A moment of loudness, a moment of sheer confidence in the success of this operation. They had braved the storm to the department store to acquire this, Kazuho’s master warm-up plan to lift everyone’s spirits after helping the city in the storm and delivering groceries to everyone else's family except their own.
The goal in question? Midnight’s Moist Cake Mixture.
“This is like the most basic thing you do with kids.”
There was something right, with Kazuho’s deduction, as it always was somewhere underlying.
The eldest of this unit sat propped up on a counter, guarding the oven akin to a sphinx waiting for the heroes to crack the riddle of basic cooking instructions on the back of the box.
Basic instructions however were none of the three vigilantes' strong parts, that is why they are in the backwards position they are in. Three major sticking points began to arise with their various points of view of the first basic instruction.
One Cup Of Water.
Kazuho, who was already ahead of the game, had a measuring jug jammed under the sink with the tap on full blast. Sprays of water coated Koichi whoo just wanted to make the suggestion that a normal cup would’ve been fine since they needed to watch one more out for the drinks. Iwao who was pushing their face almost through the box in exasperation, considered maybe using a cup proportional for the size. The box said “Serving For Six”, their cake would be half the size.
So half a jug of water was poured in by the idol without even a second blink of the numbers on the size and Koichi began to mix as hard as his arms could. Iwao corrects his grip and arm to not instantly wear himself out. Holding two eggs between his fingers with a cheerful smile, lectured Koichi while rolling them in his fingers.
“This isn’t a keiko , you can relax, make sure you mix the eggs in properly.”
Two taps and thrown in and all 6 eyes were leaning over almost sticking their faces in as Koichi’s stirred. Iwao reached over and pulled back Kazuho’s frontal bangs, before she became aware and retired it back. A secret thumbs up over the top of the head of Koichi who was busy really making sure that damn batter was whipped.
“Only put a spoonful in!”
“What’s a tsb?!”
In this commotion though when Iwao went to dispose of the eggshells, he had gone to throw the box away when the other two had invented an additional instruction - the sugar. The box had said that you can add a little bit of sugar on top of the cake, but it had appeared that the other two had taken this as in on top of the batter . Discarding the box on the side since the recycling was once again filled, Koichi, happily dripping batter off the wooden spoon, flicked it at Iwao.
“Hey! You aren’t getting out the work that easy!”
Iwao was astounded at the lack of respect, but here in the kitchen using only the fragmented memories of his old family they were equal. Nobody knew better, and his years of experience was reduced to his knees by his hero-wannabe-student flicking batter at him.
“Don’t put too much sugar in, that will set the cake on fire.”
Eyes wide open in shock, Koichi did a purposeful henka, empathised with stomps; caught red handed Kazuho had a spoon in her mouth with batter on the side, and stolen cafe sugar packets mutilated around the cake.
“I’m just following the basic instructions while you two are dripping batter everywhere.”
Iwao was lost at how this escalated into an accusatory tone. He had preheated the oven for them before they had even read the first damn instruction on the back, and now he had to be the big brother to pull apart the squalling little rat siblings. In one day he was reduced...to this.
It was fine though. He couldn’t argue with it. Life and home skills were just as important as being able to read a villain's telegraphing. Camping around the oven’s heat, the three of them watched the batter rise, leaning to the left.
“This is warmer than the heater in there. We should leave this on instead.”
“I don’t think sitting in the kitchen is hygenic.”
“Koichi, did I not have to tell you to pick up trash with your bare hands before?”
A campfire, telling stories and exploits, huddled around the warmth. Planning on what they would do in the ew day to help with the storm if it was continuing. Even after the steam and moisture from the cake had fogged the window up into the vents, they stayed there watching it. Putting down to order for their drinks afterwards. Kazuho even attempted to fish about what Koichi would like for his birthday, which was nothing but solid walls.
“You can’t just say ‘world peace’ for your birthday!”
Iwao had thrown some ideas at her beforehand but her pride was as stalwart as Koichi’s stubbornness towards his goal. Even when Iwao pointed out that Koichi could at least have a heater that wasn’t going to burn down his complex, would be an option. The Crawler’s heroic pride denied it! It would be a waste of money!
No pride would dented though until Iwao’s vague time counting suggested that the cake was probably almost done. Wrapped a towel underneath to not burn her hands and a shop stick gritted between her teeth because unlike Iwao, had actually read the other basic instructions properly. As the steam cleared over the three faces and the cake, Kazuho dipped the chop stick in and declared it down without barely a second thought. Once the steam cleared and the cake was released from the oven though, it appeared that ‘Midnight’s Moist Mixture’ had come out more like ‘Midnight’s Muddy Mounds’. A joke that Iwao had kept to himself once Kazuho held the tray up for them to see. He expected to be dry, these fake-cake-mixes were always like that, but he had not expected to see a child's rendition of his old pro hero costume.
“We went all the way out, in this storm for this?”
Defeated…empty…
Without even checking or liking it…
Kazuho’s charisma break went unnoticed by the Crawler, who true to his name crawled underneath Kazuho’s hands and usurped the baking tray full on, even burning the side of his finger where the cloth did not reach. Gourning through the pain, Koichi beamed out;
“I’m going to destroy Midnight’s cake!”
Koichi’s declaration of victory holding up the mashed, lopsided, slightly underdone yet cryslisaing from the sugar cake, wa sheralded by sniggers. Iwao had spat out a good couple of inches of his coffee and broke his usual stoic teacher nature to just appreciate the side. THe pure childish pride of failing to accomplish something but still holding their creation. It was a lost feeling from youth, and a thing had yearned for with what remained in his memories.
Giving a soft jab into Iwao’s side, the frown popped into a smile and Kazuho’s beaming smile wagged her finger.
“C’mon. We at least made an effort to get this! We even paid for…”
They didn’t, they pinched a ticket off of someone who was leaving, but that wasn’t the point. Their less-than-legal activities in a department store wasn’t going to make this artificial fluff of a cake any more dry or unpalatable, but Iwao had to concede to the idol.
This was fun.
Plucking a long knife from Koichi’s excited hand, Iwao quartered the lopsided cake swinging his arm with flair, outperforming Kazuho’s objections that certain sides meant someone had less cake. Koichi’s insistence on her not poking any more holes into the cake would also help not destroy the cake even further. Iwao’s stoic brow however, was unflinching as he divided the lumps, a smile and performance of a chef finishing the touches. Tapping the side of a spoon to sprinkle light sugar over the top and whipping the pilates around before he slid the malformed lumps with grace off the edge of the knife. Flicking the rest off cleanly with the side of his finger running down the side.
Finishing the tea and coffees off with an arm stretched with the kettle, Koichi was starting to feel the groove of everyone on the same wavelength. Even popping his quirk to shoot the plates down to Kazuho, Koichi could go for this a couple more times, and get into this system, hell this would make a fine sushi bar where he didn’t have to cook directly. Iwao’s steady hand in the kitchen, Koichi’s quirk allowing himself to snipe sushi dishes down the bar on little air discs with pinpoint accuracy. Kazuho's sharp eyes and voice get entire tables of families to drop their wallets. Imagining the cover that would be for their vigilantes business. Hearing the rumours of the streets from people talking, offering their services as customers left the bar...
His day dreaming of having a sushi bar however, came to a weird halt when he saw that Kazuho was not on the same wavelength. Iwao had been on planet 8, Kazuho had just departed to planet 7 and now Koichi returning to earth was a little bit unsure. Placing the drinks on the small kotetsu. whose cloth was stained more Koichi on a good training day. Plopped down and stamped through his cake wi4ha cheer. Happily ignoring the slightly uncooked batter and crystallised sugar on the end of it, declaring that this will be tasty, all that met him opposite was a pair of frustrated eyes.
“Look at it, Koichi! I didn’t realise it was such a mess! It didn’t survive cooling down! It’s got crystals!”
The crystals had made Koichi a little confused, it didn’t seem like the cake had crystals or anything weird growing on it, nor did they have a leak in the roof for now. Yet as he poked with the end of a chop stick he saw what Kazuho had meant. Crystalized sugar down the imploded side of the cake. It appeared that despite all her songs about cake and sugar had not translated into the cake. Staring at her disappointment hidden behind a smile and ĺa bite in suffrage with hearty gulp,Koichi was a dear in the headlights.
"Wait for Iwao to come in! Stop poking at it!"
Like a coroner poking at a corpse, Kazuho poked and identified what went wrong, Koichi who had a chunk in his mouth just started telling her to just eat it normally every time he was denied either because of Iwao or because a certain bit was inedible. Sometimes he'd make a joke blaming the pro hero Midnight for faulty product and that they should've gotten the Cement(oss) mix but making light of a wounded pride got a snapback. No matter what, Koichi kept driving into the wall of Kazuho, even through the chilling of the failing heater
The debate had raged between them two. The cake was too soft and mushy to get accurate large chunks, bits that were cooked fragmented off. Koichi pointed out that Kazuho was going to tear apart every bit of the cake then he would enjoy it! It was the effort that all three of them had put in together! As a unit! To survive the storm and allow Koichi to train further! That was the point of them being stuck together in this storm! Any notion of his birthday was forgotten in him trying to cheer the disappointed and huffing idol who refused to relent her posture.
Koichi reached over, however with the forked back of the spoon that came in the box, reached over and snatched a chunk of smashed cake.
"If you are going to just whine, then I'll clean up your mess!
Kazuho's face matched the bars of the heater that was beginning to falter. The sheer audacity and offense to her by his actions had stunned her and the grinning face opposite her completely ceased her brain functions. By the time she would reboot and catch up, hell hath no fury by a woman scored by cake...and the heater would conk out after a pillow was thrown.
Iwao was busy tucking a singular slice aside while the two young’uns were busy trying to fight over how one should respectfully eat a malformed cake. Into a small container pinched one of Kazuho’s stickers on top. Hiding it out of reach above the fridge, he would wait until everyone had calmed down to reclaim the slice. There would be no way either would allow him to escape the building, not when Koichi slid across the floor into the kitchen and into the wall. His hand held up, and prepared his hand in a flat palm, ready to go back. In any tug of war between though two, Koichi’s kiai would have the upper hand. A simple strike and catch of the cake, but the bull had to be brought out.
“You contributed nothing to this operation! The least you could do was listen to me! These were basic instructions!”
Popping his eye open at the commotion and waiting for Kazuho herself to make an entrance, Koichi gave a smile to the fullest in the chaos. The idol herself sprang through the entrance way, gloating in victory as a huge pile of mashed cake zoomed through the air and into her mouth. Kochi’s bait had been called in a devastating way, but the art of a good sumo wrestler is to know our distance, readjust your weight and plans---
A couple beats passed, with Koichi standing up and returning to his feet, exhaustion across his face, and ambition for more cake too.The fire in his eyes, it burned brighter than Endeavour's flames, and his fist could have defeated any demon king within seconds anywhere in Japan. She would not steal his slice and tease him like this! Not even siblings would allow such an afront. With a smile drenched in cociness and ego, Kazuho spun the fork around and whipped it around the plate she was holding before putting it down. On The edge of the tongue, a taunt as sharp as her plan to steal what was called her own cake.
But, before either of them could even move---
Iwao halted the Idol’s performance and with one hand, disarmed her, and with the other catching the op[poutninistic Koichi’s head in the other.
“Perhaps, next time, instead of relying on instructions on the back of a packet just because it has a Pro-Hero’s face on. You two could use your own brains and tools to make something as simple as a cake.”
Iwao’s comment devastated both the two younger vigilantes, and ceased all conflict into a piercing silence. Mulling it over, curling around the hot cups of tea and coffee, the two relented to Master’s teachings.
“We will follow your basic instructions!”
“And make a proper cake! Together!”
Iwao breathed in heavily and out. Exhausting. Ambition and life was exhausting. The taste of rebellious youth was exhausting. That exhaustion however was sweeter than this overly sugary factory produced e-number ridden box cake.
“I’m sure with both your brains and talents together, I’m sure you can follow basic instructions off the ‘net.”
Koichi, like a lost little child, tugged on the side of his Master’s jumper, not a single word was said, but with it, the former pro hero’s weighted bro eased. Relaxing years of stress.
“I’ll show you, how...I...used to know how.”
There, all sitting on the floor with plates, crumbs and droplets of drink over the floorboards, the trio declared that they would bake a cake. The biggest and best one. One to rival any of the best bakeries. One that would bring All Might to his knees. A cake so powerful that it might even grow back Iwao’s hair.
Patting his forehead, asked if he was really balding that bad, but the claim was dismissed. The vigilantes would pure all their heads together as equals as their own little special tactics unit and complete:
OPERATION B.A.K.E A.N.D C.A.K.E
And with that, the box with Midnight’s face was tossed in the air and abandoned to the streets below at the mercy of the storm. On it’s way, sprinkling leftover dust in the bottom over them. As they scrambled over the mess, a heart left by all three came out. It warmed their hearts, so much so that they never even noticed,
the broken heater behind them
In a cold hospital room, almost completely devoid of life or any semblance of “living”. A gloved hand sticks a small container on the side of a bed. Coated in a cute sticker at the top, juxtaposed with harsh chicken scratch handwriting. The ghost left as quickly as he entered.
It wasn’t the same as you once made.
But it is to show you that I still remember.