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A roaring laughter echoed out of the kitchen of Hanabi Garden. Katsuki Bakugou, the loud and proud new chef of the restaurant, was in the back flipping a huge wok of fried rice. His hair was carefully pinned back and hidden under a bandana. Sweat was quickly dabbed from his forehead as he felt it coming down. The prep cooks watched on he plated several bowls before going back in to garnish. He set the wok down with a thud , and his bright red gaze looked his kitchen staff over. The restaurant was closed for their lunch break, which meant the absolutely amazing-smelling food was for the other cooks, as well as the waiters.
“You think some boujee food critic is gonna scare me?” he asked as he grabbed a plate for himself, “Anyone that weak-hearted doesn’t deserve to be a head chef.”
His second statement was much more serious. It was true, the Hanabi Garden was well-regarded by every food critic that had come through when the previous head chef (Chef Tsunagu Hakamada) was still in charge. When Chef Hakamada was given the chance to take over as the proper owner of the restaurant, his first decision was to make his hot-headed sous chef into the new head. It caused an uproar, to say the least, as the other sous chefs had been there much longer and felt they deserved the position. They demanded to know why this abrasive twenty-something deserved it more than them! It only took a week of seeing how well that abrasive young man could handle running the kitchen to shut their mouths. Minus the rather loud and harsh way he spoke, the speed of the kitchen and the quality of food never faltered. He was a perfectionist at heart, though he’d never admit that to anyone.
The news of new head chef Katsuki Bakugou spread through the foodie world with lightning fast speed. Critics were not unfamiliar with him, having heard him scold other chefs and tell servers things like, “If you don’t know what ‘86’ means, then go home!” He was nothing short of harsh and surprisingly well liked by servers and food vloggers. He was attractive, after all, and always interesting. However, that all changed along with his title. Now, the rumors went from ‘he’s harsh but he means well’ to ‘he’s going to run that kitchen into the ground’. Critics were hesitant to show up, but word on the street said that newly recognized critic, Ochako Uraraka, would be darkening their restaurant doorstep before too long.
When the night came, the rest of the staff was on edge, only momentarily eased by the sound of Katsuki sharpening his knives. There was not a single trace of worry on his face in that moment. He was focused and unbothered by the waiters shuffling around in the expo and trying not to gossip too loudly. Kyoka had been assigned to Ms. Uraraka, as she was the calmest and most friendly of all the servers. Katsuki had to demand the other servers leave and take care of their own tables.
“Stop being ghouls in here and go do your jobs!” There was no guessing about it, that shout echoed well out into the dining room, where everyone could easily hear it. Tsunagu was also in the kitchen, but he kept his commentary to himself, wanting to see how his newly appointed head chef would handle the night. Kyoka returned a few minutes later, her entrance into the kitchen swinging the door open wide enough for Katsuki to look out into the dining room. A packed night, as always, but a singular brunette sitting alone at her table caught his eye. She had a journal with her and was adjusting her octagonal-shaped glasses as she took notes. Her order was simple: an appetizer, her entreé, and a dessert. Easy enough!
Each dish went out on its own; no need to try and send it all out at once or make her feel rushed. Katsuki felt particularly proud of his time management, as it was a skill he had perfected in his regular life, as well as in his working life. He personally made sure each dish was perfect before going out, only to be met with Kyoka’s stressed face as she returned with half eaten plates.
“She said the appetizer just didn’t have enough flavor for her,” she said almost apologetically as she set the dish back on the expo. Katsuki glared at the plate, angry at the idea of tasting it and knowing it would be perfect.
That was followed up not long by, “She thought her chicken was dry and way too salty.”
“Desse-”
Everyone was already moving before the last server could even finish speaking. Tsunagu had been moved from his viewing spot for just a moment as well, all too aware of how much it took to get the young head chef going. Even if it was a compliment, Katsuki simply could not stand it anymore. He’d practiced these recipes day in and day out, measured everything as exactly as he possibly could. She was taking her glasses off and getting ready to leave when the kitchen doors burst open. It was followed by an eruption of worker begging for Katsuki to come back. It was too late, though. Sharp, angry red eyes met with confused brown eyes at the reviewer’s table. Before she could even speak, Katsuki pulled the towel from his shoulder and slapped it on the table.
“You’re a liar ,” was all that he growled out in the now completely silent restaurant.
“Excuse me?!” Ochako gasped, clapping her notebook to her chest, “I don’t believe this is very pro-”
“You’re a liar because I’m not some shit-stain line cook,” Katsuki continued, “I studied for years to get where I am, and expect the same of anyone working with me. Each of those dishes you tried was made by me, from start to fucking finish . They’re recipes I perfected .”
The reviewer’s mouth hung open for a moment as he spoke, before finally finding a chance to speak, “Sir, I understand that it’s nerve-wracking to have a reviewer in your restaurant but is this really-”
“If you honest to god think that my cooking was shit,” he finished, clearly caught up in his own thoughts, “then you come into my kitchen and show me how good you cook, Miss Uraraka.”
A shocked gasp went through the dining room. Obviously, the best option would be to turn him down, as it would be too crazy to try and go up against him, right? However, the shocked look had long since left Ochako’s face, replaced by an equal amount of defiance. How dare this man speak to her like this?
“ Fine ,” she finally said, opening her notebook up and writing her phone number down. The page was torn free from the spiral spine and slapped to Katsuki’s chest. She held it there, fingers splayed. “I’ll have you know, I don’t just eat food, like some showboating reviewers. I know food, chef. You call me when you’re ready for me to show you.”
With a huff, she turned away and walked out of the restaurant. Katsuki snatched the notebook page off his chest and walked back to the kitchen. The restaurant became loud again, filled with excited whispers from guests and workers alike. While they may not have seen it this way from their point of view, the chef and reviewer had accidentally set themselves up for a date. A cooking date, no less!
“Katsuki,” Tsunagu sighed. His student didn’t even hear him, going immediately back into chef mode and demanding to know why there was no food ready to go on the expo.
It wouldn’t be until later in the night that realization set in. Katsuki was the last to leave the restaurant, absently folding Ochako’s phone number to tuck into his pocket, when he realized what he’d done right in front of everyone. He clapped a hand to his forehead, feeling like a complete idiot. Yelling at his own employees was one thing—they always knew he meant well by it—but yelling at a customer? A reviewer? That was stupid. He expected that would also be on the review as soon as it was up. Meanwhile, Ochako was also dealing with her own feelings about it. In the moment, she was just upset that he had come out calling her a liar of all things. Then, he wouldn’t let her finish a single thought, which caused her to finally lash out… by giving him her number and telling him to call her.
“Jeez,” she sighed, throwing herself on her bed after showering, “In any other situation, this would be great! He’s not unattractive or anything, but god he pissed me off! Maybe… maybe he won’t call.”
But he did, two days later. His voice was low and calm, with so much more control than he had had that night. Honestly, hearing him like this was somehow more threatening than him yelling. Ochako hadn’t put the review up yet, having chosen to instead put up a post that simply read ‘What to Expect Next Week!’ with the restaurant listed.
“Where’s the review?” was the first thing he asked. Ochako had to do everything in her power not to scoff directly into her phone. Seriously?
“I decided to hold off on it until we had our little competition, or whatever you want to call it,” she said with as much haughtiness as she could manage. After all, she wasn’t going to just allow him to talk to her in whatever way he decided to. The silence lingered longer than she was comfortable with, but before she could say anything more, he spoke again.
“I wanted to apologize for making a scene in my restaurant the other night,” he continued, “That part was uncalled for, but my challenge remains the same. I cooked all that food myself, and I made sure every part of it was perfect . I’ll text you over my address later. Obviously, I can’t let you cook in my restaurant, so we’ll just do it at my apartment. I’ll buy the ingredients and prepare a copy of the recipe for you to follow. We’ll make that chicken dish that you had.”
She was, unfortunately, flustered again, trying to take in everything he said. He had set forth the challenge, so he felt it was only fair that he covered what needed to be covered. That included buying all the ingredients, as well as providing her with her own apron to wear. When the call was done, the text with his address came through almost immediately, like it had been waiting in his messages. She had to admit, the man was efficient. Annoying, but efficient. The date was set, and Ochako found herself feeling a little silly as she stood in front of her mirror. This wasn’t a date, by any means, but she couldn’t go over to his place in pajamas or something too comfortable. She had an image to uphold! So, she was fussing with her hairpins and trying to make sure her dress was sitting on her right.
The drive over wasn’t long. She hadn’t expected him to live right outside of the city, or to have a place of his own that wasn’t an apartment. The look of the place shouldn’t have been a surprise. The yard was clean with minimal decorations, the few bits and bobs hanging around had a feeling of being gifted to him by his parents or friends. They were a bit silly in fashion, so that made sense. She rang the doorbell once and he wasn’t far behind it going off. Katsuki was already in his apron, with a pair of rather large hair clips pinning his hair back. His red eyes gave her a once over before holding out an apron for her.
“This is yours. Take it home with you when we’re done and wash it,” he said. She cocked a confused eyebrow at him and reached out for the apron. She had expected one of those basic black aprons, nothing fancy like the chef apron he was wearing. The thing was even embroidered with his name and fireworks around it in the corner. Cute, actually. She opened the package and discovered that her apron was of equally fine material, a lovely yellow color with ruffled edges. Her name was also embroidered on it, with the bubbles that she used as her logo also decorating the corner.
“This is really cute? ” she gasped, unsure of how she felt about it. When she looked up, he had a confused eyebrow cocked up. Maybe this wasn’t as cute to him as she thought it was going to be? Her cheeks burned as he stepped to the side to let her in, “Th-thank you.”
“The kitchen is the second doorway on the left,” he motioned into the house as the door closed behind him. She didn’t get much of a chance to look at the house as his instructions starting coming out, “Tie your hair back, wash your hands, then you can look over the recipe and the ingredients.”
The part of the house she did get to see was gorgeous, at the very least. The kitchen was huge, with a beautiful red and gold theme through it all. The island was set up with all the tools they would be using, as well as the recipe and all the ingredients. Everything was washed and set in their own trays or bowls, nothing cut just yet. She washed her hands and pulled her hair up into a ponytail before turning to look at the recipe. It was pretty straightforward, but she remembered her notes. Clearly he was overcooking and overseasoning the entire dish. She could easily avoid both of those things by changing a few things in the recipe. Katsuki was not far behind her, washing his hands as well before going to the island.
“Well, what do you think?” He asked in a tone that seemed more interested than trying to show off.
“Do I have to follow your recipe exactly as it’s written?” She asked in return. This made him perk a curious eyebrow before a playful smile crossed his face.
“I don’t suppose you have to.” He answered, “I’d be more than happy to try your version, if that is how you want to do it.”
They got to working on their own dishes. The island, as well as the stove, were both big enough for both of them to work without getting in too much in each other’s ways. The only things distracting them for a moment were Katsuki’s hands for the little reporter, who couldn’t help but admire how large they were but how precisely they cut and seasoned each piece he worked on. On the flipside, the chef was doing his best to not comment on how Ochako puffed her cheeks out a little while she focused. She was at the stove first with him following not long behind her. Even with the space, there was no denying that he still took up a ton of space as his arm bumped against hers. She took a moment to look over and notice his rolled up sleeves. Every part of him was huge, even these arms of his. How does he even move around in the kitchen at his restaurant?!
Katsuki took a quick look at her as well, noting the pink starting to rise up on her cheeks. Was it too hot in the kitchen? Maybe he should’ve poured her a glass of water before getting started. Oh well.
Ochako was off the stove first and started plating her dish. He was actually quite a bit behind her this time, still minding his pans carefully as she put her plate together. Ultimately, when he finally came over and dressed his plate, they both came out with fairly similar looking dishes. She had to admit that she remembered what it looked like when it was served, so that helped her with her plating. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly at that. The sound was low and so much more gentle than either of them expected. He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, and picked his plate up.
“It’s only fair if we try each other’s dishes.” He explained as he went to grab forks and knives for them. When he came back, he motioned to the dining room behind Ochako. She grabbed her plate as well, scampering over to the table and setting the plate down. Katsuki did the same and the two sat down. Without much else, they both cut into their chicken and started eating. Ochako noted that the dish Katsuki made looked pretty much exactly like she thought it would look. They both took a bite of their dish, Ochako with just a piece of chicken, Katsuki with a piece of chicken as well as a bit of each of the sides.
“It’s the same as I felt it was in the restaurant.” She spoke up first, “It’s dry and too salty. Again. I swear I’m not trying to be rude or anything. What do you think of mine, with those notes still in mind?”
He had picked up a napkin and was wiping his mouth clean before answering as curtly as he could, “It’s terrible.”
“What?!” She gasped. Her brows furrowed together as she pushed herself away from the table, “I took my own notes to make this dish better and you say it’s terrible?”
She stuck her hands out and calmed down. Both his brows were furrowed in an intense way when he went to speak again.
“You tell me you’re not being rude when you’ve insulted my dish basically three times now and that’s how you react?” He asked. When she crossed her arms, still a little annoyed, he picked his plate up and walked it over to her. He set it down, with the cut open portion not facing her. He sliced a piece off, covered it in sauce and accompanied with the sides like he had eaten his piece, “Here.”
Unfortunately, in their mutual frustration with each other, they didn’t even notice that one was feeding the other. Ochako angrily took a bite, expecting a delicious bite that was even better than Katsuki. What she got, however, was a bite of slightly cool, completely flavorless food. Her face scrunched up and she spit into her own napkin, looking up at Katsuki accusingly.
“I know you’re a food reviewer,” he started, “but how much of your own cooking do you ever do? My chicken isn’t dry and it only seems too salty for you because the salt is what brings out all of the seasonings that I used. Otherwise it tastes like nothing.”
He pressed his fork down over the piece he’d cooked for her, showing her a small waterfall of juice pouring out. He then turned the plate around that held the chicken she’d made which revealed a pink inside. That alone was a truly terrible color to have on a chicken. Silence hung over them for a moment.
“Okay…” Ochako sighed, “Maybe I’ve grown used to how meals cooked at restaurants, ghost kitchens, and food trucks taste. A lot of them are really salty so I guess my thought process just got changed by that. I’m sorry, really I am.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” He said, picking up their plates and clearing the table, “Instead, why don’t you come back by the restaurant and give everything another earnest try? I’ll even try to keep my yelling down next time.”
Another two weeks would pass, with Ochako going back to Hanabi Garden in the midst of her other reviews to give it another try. It really was super good, even if she still thought the sauce was a little over-seasoned. Katsuki, on the same hand, could handle ‘over-seasoned’ much better than flat a ‘too salty’. He even brought her dishes out and sat with her as she explained why she felt certain ways about her food. The restaurant, employees and diners alike, had to fight to keep their eyes off the two. It wasn’t like either of them noticed. Katsuki kept his focus solidly on Ochako was she spoke, while she couldn’t take her eyes off the way he moved his hands as he spoke. The review would later go up with an apology to both Hanabi Garden and a handful of other spots she’d been to, as well as a glowing review for Katsuki’s restaurant.
Once the review was out, the chef had expected to never hear from her again. Nevermind that they would still see each other at the restaurant every other week. Or that his thoughts seemed to wander to her when he was practicing a new recipe. Or that they messaged each other with regularity. Or that she found herself trying to cook more regularly at home, watching videos on Youtube about foods she liked. It wasn’t until a text message dropped into Katsuki’s inbox that he realized he actually missed her quite a bit. His heart launched into his throat when he absently looked down and saw the picture he’d set for her (the chicken dish, of course).
Cheeky Reviewer: I’d like a rematch!
Me: A rematch?
Me: I didn’t think you were the type who liked to get her ass beat twice.
Cheeky Reviewer: Well, Mr. Chef, you’ll be happy to learn that I’ve been cooking and making some of the BEST meals EVER.
Cheeky Reviewer: Here’s my address. This Friday at 7, you and I are gonna make the best desserts ever. You bring your recipe, I’ll bring mine.
Me: Deal.
Waiting for Friday was grueling, as it turned out. Katsuki had started the week thinking he would just make the dessert she’d had at the restaurant, but he found himself wanting to make something different. She was going to make something all her own, it wouldn’t be fair to just make something he’s comfortable with. Ochako was equally fidgety about it. She’d been working maybe a little too hard to prepare a dish, as well as pick up the ingredients that Katsuki needed for his dish. She couldn’t guess what it was right off the bat, but she couldn’t think about it for long with all her other preparation.
Friday came and without skipping even a second, Katsuki was at her door squarely at seven. He seemed a little annoyed, grumbling to himself about how apartment parking is always a piss. Since it was her turn to welcome him in, she had a proper chance to actually look him over. He was handsome, to say the least, even with his brows furrowed. They relaxed as he turned to look at her, one curiously popped up as she tried to bring her thought back down. He followed her through her small apartment, making no commentary as they entered the kitchen.
“Look, I know it’s nothing like your kitchen back home-” She started, turning to look at him. He was pulling his hair back with a stretchy headband, looking over at the ingredients. When his gaze came back to her, confusion was on his face again.
“A kitchen is a kitchen?” He replied, moving to cross the kitchen to get a better look at the ingredients, “So long as everything in your kitchen works, that makes it just as good as mine.”
Weird, but somehow a nice comment. They started into their desserts, this particular go around being much more chatty. Katsuki seemed genuinely interested in how Ochako had gotten into doing reviews, which was actually a pretty embarrassing story for her to tell. They couldn’t help but enjoy each other’s laughter as they talked and mixed their ingredients.
“Look, if I love food that much, why not just make money from eating it?” She teased, “Even if I did get lost in it. I still love food and I think getting the chance to cook more at home is really going to help my reviews.”
“Well, I’d be happy to help with any of that.” Katsuki replied, sliding his dessert into the oven. Ochako couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. Honestly, it wasn’t terrible to have such a handsome chef in her kitchen to help her. She looked down at the bowl she was working on. It was a chai-spiced whipped cream that looked beautiful with the flavoring tanning the otherwise white cream. It smelled amazing and she could tell it had caught his nose with the way he looked at it while she started whipping it. She asked what had gotten him into cooking, which was an equally funny story. He wasn’t originally interested in cooking, but he had picked being a line cook as his first job. It didn’t take long for him to become annoyed with how lazy his coworkers were and he started climbing the ladder of restaurant workers until he was the head chef. He didn’t want to be associated with bad food, so that’s where it lead him.
“That’s so wild.” Ochako laughed, “People love your food, I bet they’d lose their minds if they knew you got that good because you just hated everyone else being so bad. Haha!”
Katsuki didn’t laugh this time, his soft gaze simply watching her smile as she whipped. It took her a moment to notice, suddenly becoming nervous and lifting her spatula a little too high. She gasped as the cream was accidentally pulled up out of the bowl and smacked into her hand.
“Oh, shoot,” she said, holding her hand out towards him, “will you grab me a paper towel?”
There was a moment that Katsuki did reach out to grab a paper towel. But he’d had a lot of fun with Ochako so far, between cooking, texting, and seeing each other. Why not? Why not play around just a little bit? Who would it hurt. His strong hand wrapped around her wrist, spooking her into looking over at him. His eyes were focused on her, watching the soft pink of her cheeks become deep red. She attempted to say something, but the words just stumbled out as she watched him open his mouth and let his tongue hang out. Her heart was racing in her ears, which he could probably feel if not for his own heart also thrumming wildly . The tip of his tongue met her finger and it felt like electricity rocketed through their bodies at the same time. Ochako was momentarily worried that she might faint. Though, it would give Katsuki a chance to catch her in those strong arms. She was sure he could do it without any trouble.
Katsuki was pretty sure of himself when he started this little schtick, but closing his mouth around her finger was the real showstopper. She didn’t faint or anything, but she was quick to pull her hand away, trying to sort her words out. He chuckled, moving to pin her against the counter they were working on, threatening to bring his lips close to her again.
“Y… your desserts… I think they’re burning?”
“I-... fuck! ” Neither of them had heard the timer going off at that moment. Who even knew how long it had been going! Katsuki leapt back over to the oven, wrenching the door down and pulling his baked goods free. He looked them over and was satisfied that they hadn’t burned. When he set them down and turned to look at Ochako, she was still blushing and giggling at the whole thing.
“Maybe next time,” she said, moving back to finish putting whipped cream on her desserts, “we opt for something where neither of us have to pay attention in the kitchen? A date?”
He laughed softly, helping her plate their desserts so they could sit down and eat, “A date, huh? I think that sounds great.”
~*~FIN~*~