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Cooking was simple. Every recipe had clear instructions, easy to understand, but forgiving when a mistake was made. Katsuki supposed that’s what he liked about it: adding his own spin to recipes, taking away or adding different spices, but the end result was essentially the same. It was easy. It brought him a sense of peace, a way to work out any complicated feelings from the day in a safe environment, that had a great end result.
However, he could not say the same about baking. God, he fucking hated it. When he was at the ripe age of eight and discovered his talent for cooking, he so foolishly decided that baking must be the same thing.
It absolutely fucking was not, if the house he almost burned down had anything to say about it.
After that little incident, he swore off baking for the rest of his life, no matter how much the morons around him begged and whined for him to make some sort of bread they saw on TikTok. Apparently, they also had the incorrect assumption that cooking and baking were the same.
Idiots.
And yet, here Katsuki stood, in the dorm kitchen at 3AM, in front of him a large loaf of bread, perfectly goldened, light, and fluffy.
And he made that. With his own two hands. The same two hands almost burnt his house down making cookies, all those years ago.
Part of Katsuki was screaming in frustration and confusion, while a larger part of him was stuck staring at the bread in shock, as if it had just casually told him the most out-of-pocket shit he’d ever heard in his life.
Honestly, how on earth was he supposed to proceed??? Go about his regular day-to-day life pretending like he didn’t just suddenly make the most gorgeous loaf of bread he’s ever seen?
He didn’t even really know why he had the urge to make bread. Never before in his wretched little life has he ever woken up at 2AM, heart pounding in his chest with a deep desire for homemade bread, but here he fucking was. He didn’t- the fucked up thing about all of this was that he didn’t even have a recipe. He just followed his gut feeling (not that it’s ever steered him wrong before, but it would usually yank the wheel away from the prospect of baking).
Yeah, yeah no. No way that he just made bread. Surely, it was just a fluke. Nothing a little bit of experimenting would prove true.
Seven hours later, he was slumped on the kitchen floor, surrounded by stray piles of flour on the ground, and a god-awful amount of beautiful baked goods, each more extravagant than the last.
Everyone in the dorm was pretty much leaving him alone, after having witnessed the terrifying image of him throwing dough on the counter and cursing profusely while kneading it.
He reached on the top of the counter and grabbed a croissant, and just stared at it. He didn’t look away until he could sense a figure making its way into his kitchen.
Looking up, he saw Kirishima, nervously picking at his fingernails, and a glance behind him revealed the other idiots shushing each other and trying to subtly point at Katsuki, whispering among each other.
“Uh, hey dude. Are you uh… okay?” Kirishima nervously asked. Katsuki blinked at him and stared back at the croissant, which he was almost 100% sure was staring back at him.
Suddenly and without warning, he stood up fast, making Kirishima take a step back in fear. As calmly as he could handle, Katsuki reached for a plate and cut himself a slice of strawberry shortcake (which he made!!! He made that!!!!), silently walking past a stuttering Kirishima and sitting on one of the couches in the common room, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
Okay. So he can suddenly and magically bake now. Okay. He was fine with this sudden and jarring change, and it is not shaking his entire sense of self to the core.
He pointedly ignored his classmates concerned and terrified glances.
**********
Katsuki was forcefully (invited) dragged (willingly) outside to the park by the two SuperIdiots, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumbass (Todoroki and Izuku), for what he called “A Day In Hell” (A Nice Outing With Friends).
Mostly it was him listening to the two buffoons go back and forth with their dumbass theories about different pro-heroes, while occasionally interjecting with a snarky comment. All in all, a regular outing.
He was half listening to Todoroki as he droned on about some theory about how Aizawa-sensei and Yamada-sensei couldn’t possibly be married because of some bullshit reasoning of “Sensei has been telling Shinsou to avoid loud blondes like his life depends on it”, when something caught his attention.
Frankly, it was the most important thing in the entire world, because walking past the trio, was the cutest motherfucking dog Katsuki had ever seen in his entire goddamn life.
He froze in his tracks and turned the man with the dog.
“Can I pet your dog,” he demanded (asked), a sense of urgency in his tone.
The man blinked for a second before breaking out into a smile and nodding.
“Sure man, go ahead!” He happily said.
Katsuki slowly knelt on the ground and held out a hand for the dog to sniff, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when the dog found him worthy and started licking his hand, whining and excitedly circling around him before flopping onto his back in front of him.
“Holy shit,” Katsuki said, before scratching the precious creature in front of him. This had to be the best day of his life, for sure.
The man laughed and scratched behind his neck.
“Oh, wow, Noodles doesn’t usually take to strangers this well,” he absentmindedly said.
Katsuki whipped his head towards the man, and he’d deny the sparkles in his eyes for the rest of his life.
“You named him fucking Noodles?”
“Well, technically his name is Oodles O’ Noodles,” he clarified.
Shit . Katsuki has never wanted to kiss a stranger right on the mouth more in his life.
After another minute of petting the dog in front of him, he stood up and thanked the man, and forlornly watched as Oodles O’ Noodles trotted away. Katsuki has never felt his heart break on this scale of intensity before in his whole life.
“What the fuck?”
Katsuki turned around to see Izuku looking at him like he’d grown a second head, while Todoroki just looked mostly confused.
“I thought you didn’t like dogs?” Todoroki asked.
“Hah?”
“He doesn’t! Kachan, what the fuck!” Izuku asked (demanded).
He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out because honestly? He doesn’t like dogs. And once Oodles O’ Noodles ( Godspeed… ) was gone (but never forgotten) and the nerd pointed it out, he was suddenly reminded of that fact.
He was gearing up all sorts of bullshit excuses he could give, but there’s no denying the excitement he felt at seeing the most goodest dog in the world, and holy fuck, when has he ever cooed or baby over any creatures, ever????
So he simply didn’t say anything and kept walking, politely ignoring Izuku’s entourage of questions.
After the fifth dog Katsuki had asked to pet against his better judgment (and the five stages of grief he’s had to go through each time he had to say goodbye, goddammit), Izuku shut his mouth but stared at him like he was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. Honestly, if he could find an answer, might as well tell him because he has no idea either.
The topic was mostly forgotten when they decided to stop for ice cream.
**********
Katsuki didn’t really have a lot of hobbies (unless training counted), and this has never really bothered him. He supposed he understood the importance of hobbies, and sometimes there were things he was tempted into trying out, but nothing that made him want to go out of his way and buy supplies for.
When he was doing his homework though, he noticed something strange. There were scraps of paper all around him, and his hands were twitching to grab at them. He rolled his eyes before picking up a scrap and folding it between his fingers.
After a minute of folding and unfolding, then folding again, he found it sort of… relaxing.
Before he realized what he was doing, he was zoning out, and letting himself enjoy the feeling of the paper folding between his fingers, the sound it was giving off, mixed with the rain hitting his window.
He leaned further back in his chair and let out a long sigh, letting himself relax, letting his thoughts wander away. The stress from school, the exciting impending doom of becoming an official Pro Hero, that stupid war… At that moment, he decided to push those thoughts away. Not forever, just for a little bit, long enough to remind himself that he’s still just a teenager.
After a moment, his eyes focused on the paper in his hands. Somehow, he managed to fold it into a little star. He blinked before examining it closer, turning it around and rubbing it between his fingers. He was almost certain he didn’t know how to fold paper into anything actually meaningful, yet sat in his hands was his little paper star.
Looking at it gave him a sudden sense of melancholy, and he wasn’t sure why. He almost wanted to cry.
He set it down on his desk and picked up another scrap piece of paper, letting his hands take over his thoughts again and before he knew it, there was another star.
It was already 9PM, so he knew the best course of action was to set his stars aside and get back to his homework, but instead, he focused on the stars. He kept track of every single one he made, sometimes even going so far as to doodle designs on the paper first.
He ended up folding twenty more before the allure of his bed called to him.
Waking up the next morning, after rushing to finish his homework and get into his uniform, he opened his desk drawer to grab another sheet of paper, ribbing it into the long strips he’d need, and shoved them into his pocket, ready for the day.
**********
To say Katsuki was a singer was very very wrong. He’d rather be caught sticking a fork in a power outlet before being caught singing.
It’s not that he was bad at it, it was just incredibly embarrassing and he wanted nothing to do with it. Thinking about it, the last time he sang in front of other people was probably before he fell into that river and Izuku tried to help him up.
Hm. Maybe it was something to look into. But mostly not, because he doesn’t really care.
For eleven years, nobody’s heard so much as a whistle from him, and he’s perfectly content to keep it that way.
So when he was in the kitchen cooking dinner and filtering out the nonsense from his classmates, he was a little surprised when they all suddenly quieted down. They didn’t stop talking, but their voices were softer, like they didn’t want to disturb something.
Whatever, maybe Eri fell asleep on the couch again or somethin’.
He went back to focusing on the food in front of him and finishing up dinner.
When he was done, he grabbed a plate for him and Izuku (NO, he wasn’t being “nice” or what the fuck ever, the nerd’s just been slacking off in the “eating healthy food” department, and Katsuki’d be damned before any of his classmates weren’t able to give him a real fight because of vitamin D deficiency or whatever), passing by the counter where his group of friends was sitting, he noticed Ashido resting her head on the surface. He stopped in his tracks and glared at her.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked.
She dreamily sighed.
“‘M jus’ tired,” she slurred.
“What? Why?”
“We’ve been waking up early, y’know? And your voice was so nice, it made me sleepier,” she said.
If Katsuki hadn’t already been standing in place, he would have frozen. Dread started pooling inside him, and he could only imagine his expression was nothing less than horrified .
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He demanded.
“Dude, you were humming,” Sero said, acting nonchalant like this wasn’t absolutely shattering Katsuki.
“For how long?”
“Uh, how long did the ramen take to cook?” He asked.
He’s sure that if he were anybody else, he might’ve laughed at the expression that was probably on his own face, but seeing as Katsuki felt a hot burst of shame explode in his abdomen, he made not a giggle.
“That long?” He did NOT squeak, because that is something Katsuki has never done, nor will ever do.
Kirishima flashed a gentle smile at him and Katsuki has never wanted to wipe a look off someone’s face more in his life.
“Yeah. You didn’t know?”
Despite himself, Katsuki felt his face warming up in shame.
“Obviously I did not.”
Ashido weakly waved a hand in the air.
“Nooo, don’t be embarrassed Blasty, it was really nice,” she insisted.
Instead of dignifying them with a response, he maturely turned away and walked to the couch, dropping off Izuku’s plate and ignoring the soft “Thanks, Kachan!” as he casually turned to the elevator and brought his food with him to eat in his dorm alone.
**********
He lay in bed, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.
Why did he suddenly know how to bake? He sure as fuck wasn’t practicing, and never even had the desire to do so, but now it’s like he couldn’t stop. Every day there was some sort of new baked good for the class, each one better than the last.
Oh, and don’t even get him started on the whole adoring dogs thing. All his life Katsuki complained about how bad every dog smells, how they’re too much work, and that there is no such thing as a cute dog, but now he was looking into dog-friendly apartments because now that he’s suddenly enamored with dogs, he genuinely can’t imagine not owning one in the near future.
And his paper stars, he doesn’t even know about that one. He can somewhat accept the idea of being good at baking because he has more cooking wisdom now, and he can maybe understand his newfound love of dogs if he pins the blame entirely on Oodles O’ Noodles, the first dog to ever win his heart, but the stars? Katsuki knows for damn sure he’s never even spared a thought to origami of any kind, but low and behold, here he is, with the giant jar of his paper stars that was only getting fuller by the day.
And most embarrassingly of all, the humming. He never realizes he’s doing it until Ashido gushes about how soothing it is, and every single time, he wants to shrivel up and die.
All this combined, he’s not sure what it means for him. These aren’t bad things, but he can’t help but feel suspicious when all of these things just feel like second nature to him. They’re not, he knows they’re not, none of this should feel natural to him, but it all does. Like he’s been doing these things his whole life.
Honestly, he was starting to think he was hit by some bizarre quirk and didn’t realize it, but that’s probably Stupid As Shit.
Glancing at his wall, his eyes catch on his Edgeshot poster, and his heart aches. He never really thought much of him as a hero when he was alive but after he sacrificed himself for Katsuki, it was kinda hard to ignore the guy.
He’d forever feel grateful that he was given another chance at life, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty that someone had died for him.
Izuku has called him a hypocrite for that, but he can’t help what he feels.
Reaching over to his bedside table, he grabs his phone and types “Edgeshot” into the search engine.
His therapist has conflicting feelings about him doing this, but it helps ease some of the lingering pain.
Sometimes.
Sometimes it hurts reading people on the internet saying that Edgshot should have let him die.
Scrolling through different blog posts and video suggestions, he clicks on a video that catches his eye.
It’s an interview. He apparently wasn’t really well known for those, preferring to stay away from the limelight as much as possible (fat fucking good that did, when he ended up becoming ranked number four of Japan’s heroes), so an interview was somewhat hard to find.
“Edgeshot! Thank you so much for joining us today, I’m sure you had a very busy schedule,” the interviewer said.
“My pleasure, it was no problem at all,” he cooly responded.
Katsuki sighed and skipped somewhere in the middle of the video.
“-esting! So, we all know that heroes are almost always out on the job. After all that work and dealing with so many troubled people, I can imagine it’s quite stressful.”
“It is, sometimes, but it’s always worth it. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to save a life,” Edgeshot responded, and shit, if that didn’t pierce Katsuki right through the heart.
“Is there anything you like to do to help wind down from a particularly stressful day?”
“I suppose so. I’m rather partial to baking,” he said. Katsuki sat up viciously. What? What? He turned the volume up on his phone.
“There’s something relaxing about it. It’s structured and specific, One wrong move can mess everything up, but when executed correctly, there’s something satisfying about it.”
“Have you been baking for a long time?”
“I’d say so. My father would teach me how to mix the batter correctly, and he’d let me eat as much as I wanted, much to my mother’s disappointment.”
The interviewer laughed.
“I imagine it would! I used to cook with my parents, too. Those moments are some of my most treasured memories.”
“There’s never a time I don’t think about them fondly. Sometimes, those memories are what keep me going in a fight.”
“Is there anything else you like to do?”
“I’m sure it’s no surprise, but I enjoy origami,” he admitted, almost bashfully.
“Oh, you do? Would you mind showing us an example?”
“Not at all. Might I have a sheet of paper?”
After being handed the paper, he ripped a long strip out and quickly folded it to reveal-
A star.
Katsuki’s star.
He turned off the video and set his phone down, trying to catch his breath.
There’s- there’s no way, right? It just has to be one weird coincidence.
Frantically, he searched “Edgeshot with dogs,” and if you can believe it, there was a video online of a compilation every time he saw a dog, and you can see the excitement visible in his eyes, every. Single. Time.
Searching “Edgeshot humming” didn’t really yield any results, but he didn’t have any doubt that it was something he also did.
Staring at his phone for a little while longer, he let out a shuddering breath before setting it down.
This whole time, he had been so worried that he wasn’t doing enough to keep his memory alive, to show his thanks for saving his life. The change in his hero costume felt like a good start but never felt like enough.
But learning all these things the pro used to do too, it. Well.
It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
He had been worried that there was nothing could do to keep his memory alive, but it turned out he had been, this whole time.
He's been keeping him alive with freshly baked bread, with the joy that sparked his heart whenever he saw a dog, their origami stars, even that god-forsaken humming.
He stared at his ceiling, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, feeling the thump thump thump of his heart in his chest, eventually falling asleep to its rhythmic beats.