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“Why is Kacchan here with us again?”
They were currently inside their local grocery store. Katsuki—wearing a party hat that was almost devoured by his spiky hair—was in the cart Kariage was pushing, with Imada holding on to the side as they went down the aisles. Izuku, Tsubasa, and Dehisa were scattered around them, with the latter of the three attempting to push and hit each other whenever they deemed an attack possible.
Izuku drifted closer to Kariage, managing to avoid being shoved by Dehisa who had tripped after Tsubasa had stuck his foot out while he was walking backwards. There was a soft thud of marshmellow bags falling to the floor as Dehisa caught himself on the shelf, and Izuku shrunk back when he noticed the disappointed glare of an elderly woman walking past them.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean, Deku?” Katsuki snarled. Even with the party hat, he looked mean and serious. “Do you want me to be alone on my birthday? What would Aunty think if she heard you say that to me?” He turned his attention on Kairage, who was preparing to turn the cart, and asked, “Can you believe this? After all the years we’ve known each other he’s ready to abandon me just like that.”
Kariage turned the cart sharply, Imada letting go quickly only to take two long strides to get back to his original place beside Katsuki. “We can leave him,” he responded, and a noise that had gotten caught in Izuku’s throat squeaked out of him at the reply. “It’s your birthday, Kats. I would make him play a pinata if you wanted.”
A smile spread across Katsukis lips, or, maybe it was a bloodthirsty grin, Izuku couldn’t tell, because he had already fled from being near either of them and was now a good five feet behind them.
“I was just saying that it kinda defeats the purpose of a surprise party if Kacchan is here with us,” Izuku defended. His voice was confident, but the distance made Katsuki laugh as he watched Izuky from over Kariages shoulder.
The new aisle was a mixture of sweets and cardboard, with the coiling smell of frosting that made Katsuki narrow his eyes. Halfway down the aisle, they pulled to a stop in front of cake mixes, a wide spread of all different types of easy-to-bake flavors and colors.
Kairage answered Izuku instead, which he would be forever grateful for, as Katsuki had begun to open his mouth, the edges of his lips turned in what was sure to be a nasty joke or an insult to Izuku. “Who would know more about what to get the birthday boy than the birthday boy?”
A flood of boxes crashed down on top of Katsuki before Izuku could let out a sigh. Katsuki was cursing and sputtering beneath all the boxes, and Kariage was watching the scene with fond eyes.
“How many cakes are you planning to bake, Imada?” Tsubasa nudged, dropping a handful of white frosting. “I have one mixture at my house, and one oven, no way can we bake all that before his birthday ends.”
As if time was the issue.
Dehisa came crashing towards them, long limbs and even longer fingers holding an abhorrent amount of neon pink sprinkles. “I’m gonna need more sprinkles, huh?”
One cake, Izuku mouthed, face pale as Imada dropped another two boxes in the cart. One cake.
“Katsuki deserves it.” Is all Imada said in response.
Another two boxes fell, landing on the ever growing pile on Katsukis lap.
Katsuki turned his head upward, arm stretching, reaching for Imada, who, after spotting Katsuki trying to reach him, bent down until he was less than half his size, body folding like origami. “Thanks, Imada.”
Imada beamed. And when Katsukis hand had finished ruffling the other's hair, he jolted upwards and added another box into the cart.
“We can’t make all this, let alone buy it all,” Izuku denied, hands reaching into the cart, abandoning his previous post of being five feet away in favor of being the only reasonable one. He picked up stack boxes, and with each new one, he realized, “Why are they all confetti flavored?”
All movement stopped. A sudden hush washing over them.
When Izuku glanced up from picking up boxes, he froze as he realized that all eyes were on him. He twitched. “What?” He said. “Why are you all looking at me as if I have just gotten a quirk?”
They all looked at each other. Then back at Izuku. As if they were one person, they all answered, at the exact same time, “It’s birthday cake.”
Silence. The only noise coming from the patrons in the rest of the store and the buzzing of the overhead lights.
Then, like a large pair of scissors to ribbon, the silence was cut as laughter rang echoed.
“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Dehisa choked, a spring of tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Priceless!”
Tsubasa threw an arm over Izukus shoulder, the suddenness and the strength of the blow knocking the breath out of Izuku. “And you’re supposed to be Katsukis competition in school? No wonder you’re ranked second. Katsuki doesn’t even need to try to beat that kind of smartness!”
A box hit center-square on top of Tsubasa's head, and Tsubasa recoiled, a startled noise escaping him.
“I don’t even need to try now!” Katsuki shouted, body half drowning in cake box mixes, frosting, and neon-pink sprinkles. His party hat was now somewhat sideways, the silver of the foil lining shining in the light. “Deku couldn’t beat me even if I skipped the whole class! Let alone you, Wings!”
Kariage gave two consoling pats to Tsubasa's back. “Katsuki’s right,” he said solemnly, “He’s number one and you are ranked twenty-fifth in the class. Katsuki could graduate now, and you barely passed our last test.”
Tsubasa turned towards Kariage, letting Izuku go. He moved his arm towards Kariages back, patting him twice, consolingly. Gently, solemnly, as if he were breaking hard news to him, Tsubasa said, “You’re ranked twenty-ninth. The only person you’ve beat is Dehisa.”
Kariage pursed his lips, nodding his head, and looked down, defeated.
Another box was added to the cart, but no one said anything, for Kariage would never recover.
In the end, Izuku managed to reduce their wares to two cake mixes, three frostings, and four containers of sprinkles. It was just Izuku and Katsuki in line waiting. Kariage and Tsubasa were still in the cake aisle recovering, and Imada had made his way outside after a sudden rush of people flooded the store and the check-out slot they were in.
As the last item was being scanned, a distant voice echoed through the store. The sound got closer and closer as the seconds ticked by, and Izuku saw bodies moving and getting shoved. The voice grew louder, and Izukus face had begun to redden in embarrassment.
“I got the eggs!” Dehisa bellowed, full hands waving in the air. “And the flour!”
A flaking of powder fluttered gently downward. Izuku's eyes caught the slight rip in the flour bag, but before he could make his mouth move—to shout a warning—a flurry of white covered his vision. His face was no longer red, at least.
Katsuki let out an ugly snort.
Taking a deep breath, Izuku sneezed. Dehisa was laughing without a care in the world, dropping the half split flower and carton of eggs as he clutched his stomach, knees shaking, laughing. He turned to the lady at the register, whose lips were wobbling in a poorly managed picture of professionalism. With a straight face covered in flour, embarrassment long gone, he declared, “He’s not with us.”
Dehisa laughed louder.
The cashier raised a brow, losing the battle of restraining her amusement as she let a grin bloom on her lips, and asked, “Cash or credit?”
Izuku handed over a stack of crumpled bills, grabbed his bags, and walked away.
When he left, he could still hear Dehisa and Katsuki laughing.
__________
Tsubasa lived in an apartment much like Izuku, though instead of living with his mom, he lived with his older brother. It was a cramped space, one bedroom, a living room, and a small kitchen, but no one batted an eye, because there was no reason to judge someone based off their house, and they all knew the struggles of living in their particular neighborhood, even if their resident birthday boy came from the wealthier side of Musutafu.
Even with the small space and more rundown building, the kitchen had a brand new mixer, robin egg blue in color. His brother had brought it in one day when they were all hanging out. They never found out where or how he got it, but they were never ones to snitch either way.
Izuku and Kariage placed the bags on the meager counter space, while Dehisa dragged up a chair, and Katsuki jumped up to sit next to the bags, reaching in to pull out a tub of frosting. Imada gently took it from Katsukis hands, opening it and folding the protective-sealed foil twice for Katsuki to use as a spoon. Izuku, who had watched the scene from the corner of his eyes, felt his shoulders drop in relief. He did not want the cake to be contaminated with nitroglycerin. Izuku had already learned the facts of nitroglycerin poisoning the hard way.
“Do we really need two eggs for each box mix?” Tsubasa asked. The buzzing light of the fridge lighting his face. “I have three eggs.”
Kariage turned to Dehisa. “I thought I heard you say you were getting eggs? What happened to that?”
Katsuki turned to Izuku, and Izuku had turned to Katsuki. A smirk curled Katsukis lips, and Izuku sighed. He was still covered in flour, and his shoes had globs of wet flour stuck to his soles when Katsuki pushed him into the path of a puddle.
“Deku happened,” Katsuki laughed, and Izuku had to hold himself back from tearing the party hat down his head and screaming.
Dehisa let out a string of chuckles, stacking the neon pink sprinkles on top of each other in a wobbly tower. Kariage ripped open two bags of cake mix, and disposed of them into the mixer bowl. “Of course.” He sighed, as if Izuku was the only person who ever did anything wrong and not Dehisa who always got into trouble and whose fault it really was—“I should’ve known.”
Deep breaths, Izuku reminded himself. It’s Kacchans birthday. Izuku can give him one day. It was only six more hours until it was back to being a regular day, and he’ll no longer have to hold himself back. He could do this. Just six more hours.
Six more hours.
The sink faucet rumbled, then a burst of water flooded through the piping. Tsubasa had a small, colorful plastic cup that he used to collect water, and poured that with the cake mix. Katsuki had set down his frosting, and was tossing one of the three eggs they had with Imada, who was shaking with every new toss.
“It should be fine,” Dehisa answered Tsubasa, pouring the vegetable oil in without any measuring cups. Honestly, it would be a surprise if the cake even baked at this point. “It’s gonna be with the other cake mix anyways, one egg isn’t gonna harm us any.”
Tsubasa cheered. The noise startled Imada, his hands fumbling with the egg Katsuki had tossed towards him in that moment, and Tsubasa turned, his wings barely brushing against Imada, but that was all that was needed to break the camel's back as Imada lost his battle trying to reclaim the egg safely.
The egg dropped to the floor, the yolk breaking on impact.
Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“Two eggs can’t hurt anyone,” Dehisa chortled.
Imada gazed at the egg in despair, looking at Katsuki in a mixture of guidance and an apology. Katsuki had only given him a soft knock on his head and laughed, and Kariage joined, teeth white and sharp, a speckling of cake powder on his black shirt.
Izuku would like to say that nothing else happened after that. That the cake was made and everything went smoothly. But that's not how Izuku's life worked, especially when he was with Katsuki and everyone else. No, what happened went somewhere along the lines of this:
Water and oil drowned the cake mix, and when Izuku turned on the mixer—because he knew if anyone else did it they would put it to the highest setting because “I’ll mix it faster! Stop being such a Debbie Downer on Katsukis birthday. You just can’t let him have this, can you?”---and when it started spinning, the mixture sloshed, droplets flying out of the bowl and landing on his face and anywhere it could reach.
They used a baking pan as their tin because their original circular pan was too small to fit the amount of ingredients they used, and when Kariage poured it in, Izuku watched as it sloshed from side to side like ocean waves, and watched some more as Kariage had given a small shrug before tossing it into the oven.
Izuku should’ve known to check the temperature. He should’ve known not to trust anyone with any small task. The oven was set to the max it could handle and he wouldn’t find that out until the timer beeped after an hour had passed since it was put into the oven. They had all huddled around as Katsuki took the pan out, and what they were presented with would make Izuku's stomach roll for the end of time.
It was burnt on the outside and stuck to the sides of the pan like gum on hair. Even still, they thought that it was fine, even Izuku, but there was a mirth in Katsukis eyes that Izuku knew sprouted whenever someone was confident in something they were wrong in. Tsubasa spread across the melted frosting with careful hands, and Dehisa had turned the cake into a pink neon cube even a blind person could see.
They all screamed “Happy birthday!” and as Kariage cut the cake, Izuku found out what Katsuki had found so humorous.
The cake, which was burnt on the outside but fine as much as they could tell, had sunken in on itself as the knife pierced the exterior. Raw, watery cake mix oozed out of the cake, spreading in the baking pan and revealing a hollow interior.
Really, the only thing they did right was not have any eggshells in the—what could hardly be called—cake mixture.
Katsuki threw his head back and laughed. “I knew you guys could do it!” He said, a tear slipping past the corner of his eye. Kariage, Dehisa, Tsubasa, Imada, and Izuku were completely still, unable to move a muscle as they stared at the abomination they had claimed to be Katsuki's birthday cake. “You’re mothers would be proud.”
“What is that?” Kariage whispered. Everyone, sans Katsuki, was asking the same question in their mind. “What did we unleash on the world?”
Dehisa sighed. “I knew I should’ve got him that yellow suit instead.”
Imada turned away in horror, hugging Katsuki who was still laughing. Tsubasa was unable to tear his eyes away.
“Happy birthday, Kacchan,” Izuku wished, but the sentiment was drowned out by Katsukis laughter as an air bubble popped.