Chapter 01
Ochaco Uraraka

He was just going to grab another mug of coffee. It was just that simple. He knows it is already just passed midnight, but he really needs more coffee in his system. He still has more papers he needs to grade. He's not looking forward to it, but at least he won't have his students pestering him about their papers. And he is not looking forward to that even more.

He's just going to grab another mug of coffee from the kitchen. The elevator door just opened when his nose picks up a burnt smell. Grimacing, he silently wonders tiredly who is at fault this time. His first thought is either Bakugo or Shouto (but really everyone is a victim because none of them could cook for their life beside Bakugo) but who knows who is it this time.

And aren't they supposed to be asleep right now? They don't have school tomorrow, but he did not hear any planning his students have to spend tonight (not that he had been paying attention or anything. He definitely did not care).

When he arrives at the kitchen, he is a little surprised at seeing Uraraka there, shoulders slump as her face planted onto the table. Beside her head is her phone, and right in front of her is the main suspect for the burnt smell. He takes a guess it's a failed attempt of a cake. At least, he thinks so. He's not sure if it is actually a cake or not.

He's already standing on the opposite side of the table, his mug in one hand, and yet Uraraka is still has yet to notice his presence. He might need to lecture her for her awareness. He announces his presence by clearing his throat. The girl immediately straightens up with a shocked look on her face that she is not alone. Her expression quickly turns to guilty when she sees his questioning raised eyebrow.

"I know I should be sleeping right now, but…" Uraraka timidly trails off. "A relative of mine's birthday is very soon and I was tasked to bake the cake."

So it was a cake.

"And why are you baking the cake this late at night?" He didn't hide his irritation from his voice, but he did tone it down a bit. Uraraka flushes red, breaking eye contact and fidgets with her fingers.

"It's… today…" This time he didn't mask his irritation from his sigh, rubbing his face with one hand. "I tried making it but… it didn't go so well."

He could see that, seeing how black the thing is. He is surprise that no one had woken up by the burning smell, or how the fire alarm had not picked it up.

"Why aren't you asking the others?"

"I don't want to bother them with my problem," she answers, and didn't see his eye twitches. Really, these kids, what are friends for if not to help? Even then, heroes also need help if needed.

He looks at how tired Uraraka is, and also sees the underlying worry under the tiredness. He sighs again, double the tiredness than before, putting down his mug and rubs his eyes with his fingers. The things he does for his students.

"Show me the instructions," he groans out, sinking one hand into the pocket of his sweatpants to take out a black hair tie to tie his hair into a bun. He carefully tucks a few loose locks behind his ear, making sure to keep them away from his eyes or dropping into the mix later.

The grading papers can wait.

Uraraka is staring at him with opened mouth and wide eyes but quickly snaps out of it when he glares. She fumbles for her phone and unlocks it before handing it to him. He narrows his eyes at the small screen, silently wishing that he should've brought his reading glasses with him.

"Have you ever baked a cake, Mr. Aizawa?" Uraraka hesitantly asks.

"Never," he admits, scrolling through the list of instructions. "Let's learn together then." The instruction seems clear enough to follow though he could see where Uraraka did wrong. He grabs the apron that is hanging near the fridge before looking around the kitchen. His eyes land on the mess at the sink, just the things he is looking for.

"Take out the ingredients, I'll wash these first before using them," he instructs as he ties on the apron. When he didn't hear her moving, he turns to look at her. She has a second round of staring much like before. "Uraraka." That seems to snap her out of it as she stiffens.

"Y-Yes,Mr. Aizawa!" She heads off quickly to gather all the necessary ingredients. He wonders if they are any left after she used them for earlier. He'll get to it later. For now, he needs to wash the mixer and bowls and other things.

They made a mess while in the making. He beat the mix a bit too roughly causing a bit spilled onto the floor, which led to Uraraka nearly slipped onto her face if it is not for his quick reflex. In turn, he spilled the entire thing on the floor so they started all over again.

Uraraka accidently poured some of the flour onto the table causing him to inhale a nose-full of it. He sneezed into it and now they are covered in flour. Uraraka giggled when she saw him while he merely sighed before they both clean themselves up.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Uraraka sets the temperature.

"But it says 350 degrees," she tells him, her expression full of confusion.

"It is 350 degrees Fahrenheit, which means we need to input 180 degrees Celsius," he replies with exasperation.

"Ooh," Uraraka drawls out as the realization sinks in. He nods his head.

He nearly jumps out of his skin the second time when Uraraka sets the temperature the second time.

"It says 180 degrees Celsius for 40 minutes. If we put in 1800 degrees we could bake it for 4 minutes," she reasons as if her words make total sense.

"That's not how it works!" He wants to tear his hair off from his head. He couldn't understand if it's Kaminari or Kirishima to make this kind of mistake but he did not expect it to be Uraraka.

Maybe that is how the cake ended up so burnt earlier.

Uraraka is staring at him, looking very confused. She still doesn't get it. He sighs again, feeling like his energy is spilled onto the floor now. He doesn't have the energy to explain to her; he'll do it later. For now, they could continue the cake. This time, he will set the temperature.

The 40 minute wait is quiet but not as awkward as he initially thought. He finally makes his coffee he originally wanted while Uraraka checks through her phone. He doesn't know what she is doing at this current time. He takes out the cake when the timer sets off. Already, it looks significantly better than Uraraka's. And he could see the awed look on her face.

"Alright, you do the final design," he says, after he makes a check as the instruction says. Uraraka twitches and looks slightly scared.

"A-Are you sure?" she stutters. He looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not a creative person." Not entirely true, he can be creative except not many people find his creativity that much enjoyable. "And besides, this is for your relative. You should be doing the final touches."

Uraraka looks uncertain but she nods nonetheless. He hands her a plastic bag filled with cream, a corner carefully cut. Her hands shake a bit as she carefully squeezes the cream out onto the cake.

"Hey," he interrupts for a second. She twitches again, luckily didn't spill the cream onto the cake. "Don't be so tense. I know you can do it well." She blinks at him, before nodding her head. She continues the decoration, this time more confident than ever.

Soon enough, the cake is done. And Uraraka is whooping with joy.

"Quiet down," he scolds while glaring at her. "Others are still sleeping." She stops and flushes sheepishly. But she has a very wide smile on her face, looking extremely happy albeit very tired. Then she bows at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa!" she says earnestly. "I couldn't have done it without you." He waves a hand dismissively even though she couldn't see it.

"You could've asked your classmates to help you out and made it better," he scolds her but with much lesser heat behind his words.

"I know," Uraraka replies sheepishly, still bowing. Then, she straightens up and gives him a soft smile. "But making it with you felt great and enjoyable."

He refuses to acknowledge the warmth spreading all over his chest.

"Go to bed; get as much as sleep as you can. I'll put the cake in the fridge." Right on time, Uraraka yawns, emphasizing her tiredness. "Go."

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa," she answers tiredly before slowly makes her way to the room. He watches her go, making sure she gets to her room safely. Then he did as he promised before taking out his phone to text at the group chat Midoriya had created out of the blues, saying that if they ever touch the cake in the fridge they will get detention and severe punishment.

Saying that he will expel them is less effective nowadays. They had seen through his bluff, his logical ruse. These damned kids. He sighs, finally feeling the exhaustion seeping through his bones.

Well, he might as well get a few shut-eyes while he can.

.

Nobody had said anything, not even a single word or even a single knowing look. It's like nobody knows about it, or forgot about it. She wouldn't admit it, but she feels sad and not looking forward to tomorrow.

Tomorrow's her birthday. In fact, it is only minutes away from midnight. Yet, she didn't get anything, or even a hint. She knows it should be a surprise, but wouldn't admit out loud that it stings her a bit.

She doesn't expect anything at midnight. Who would be awake at such hour to bother surprise her? Everyone had pretty much exhausted themselves to death from class earlier (They all know Mr. Aizawa had gone soft. Well, softer than before but not entirely soft. Nevertheless, he is still merciless with his training).

So far as she knows, she is currently awake at this hour. She's going to the kitchen just to grab a glass of water, nothing much. She's tired but she's parched. She looks at the time on the phone she carries. It just strikes midnight, and she suppresses a sigh.

'Happy birthday to me.'

When she arrives at the kitchen, she freezes in her track.

There sat on the table facing the doorway is a cake. Not just any cake, it is a very familiar cake. The way the cake is shaped looks familiar. The frosting looks familiar. Even the design looks familiar.

Happy Birthday

Her mind wanders back to the time where she made the exact same cake with a certain someone.

'He remembers…'

Her heart swells. Her lips quiver before they curl into a full blown wide smile. She couldn't keep her giddiness down. She feels extremely happy.

She wants to go find him, but she knows he's on a patrol tonight. And that warms her heart even more, that he had the time to bake and ready the cake for her despite his usual schedule.

She'll tackle him when he returns.

.

As soon as the elevator opens, the first thing that greeted him is a pair of arms thrown at him and wrapped around his middle. He stumbles a bit but recovers very quickly and hugs her back.

"Thank you," he hears her whisper into his uniform before she tightens her embrace. He hums dismissively, though his chest is radiating warmth that heats up his body after battling the cold night earlier.

The elevator door closes before they could exit it; Uraraka still refuses to let him go just yet.

So hi. I'm new to this fandom. But Dadzawa is what I love deeply. A father-daughter relationship is what I love even deeper.