At some point during their sleep, Katsuki spread out stretching his limbs out to all four corners of the bed. Takara woke up curled into a little ball confined in the limited area created between one of his arms and legs. Thankfully her back was to the wall or she would have been on the floor.
Carefully stretching out one leg over his middle, she raised up on one arm to a half sitting position. Putting her knee down by his hip, she prepared to straddle him briefly then push off the bed to slip away without waking him. Hovering over him, she studied his face in the rays of sun that managed to sneak around the edges of the curtain to shed minimal but useful light into the room.
Katsuki looked so innocent and much younger with his face relaxed in sleep. She wondered if this is what he looked like in high school. Hopefully his mother would bring out the pictures during their visit. She would love to see him as a baby, a terrible two, an angsty teenager, and burgeoning hero.
What would the people who gave life to this beautiful man be like?, she wondered, her fingers drifting across his sleep flushed cheek. Her belly started turning flips at the thought of meeting his parents.
Unable to resist the temptation of his lips poked out in a pout, Takara pressed the gentlest of kisses to his soft lips. She sat up quickly, biting her lower lip when she heard him inhale sharply. Pushing herself off the side of the bed, she leaned back over him.
"Go back to sleep," she whispered, kissing him a second time before she could resist the temptation.
"Okay," he mumbled, rolling away from her onto his side while stuffing the pillow under his head as he changed position.
Takara giggled and shook her head. She was not surprised he decided to stay in bed with no arguments. He was up way past his bedtime last night. Night shifts were definitely not his favorite but all professional heroes had to work them sometimes. People always needed help for one reason or another no matter the time of day. Unfortunately criminals preferred to pick inconvenient times and the cover of darkness during which to conduct most of their wicked deeds.
After taking a quick shower, she went into Izuku's bedroom to raid his closet for a shirt so she could traverse the short distance between their apartments without being too obscene. She chose what looked like a blue football jersey with the numbers zero one on it in white and outlined in red. Two yellow projections poked out of the top of the zero like All Might's signature hairdo. She laughed. Izuku had some of the funniest fan merchandise dedicated to his personal hero and mentor.
Upon entering her apartment, Takara could smell the positively luscious scent of coffee. When she saw Izuku sitting on the couch reading, she took a moment to take him in since he was totally engrossed in his book.
Concentrating on the words, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth set in a hard line, he no longer looked baby faced despite his freckles. Sensing her staring at him, he glanced up. His lips stretched into such a wide grin they separated and revealed his perfect hero smile. But this smile was meant just for her - her lover's smile.
"Hi," Takara said, her voice squeaking as if she had inhaled helium. How could she not be high on happiness after seeing that smile?
"Good morning," he returned, closing his book and laying it on the seat of the couch as he stood up.
Takara trembled in anticipation of his embrace as he walked toward her to envelope her with his brawny arms bearing the scars of his dedication and proof of his sacrifice to become the hero he always dreamed of becoming. She glided her hands along his rock hard arms, over his shoulders, and around his back to take in as much of his strength and warmth as she could. Melting into him, she pressed her cheek against his neck and the length of her body against his. She adored the full body hugs full of warm fuzzy emotion she shared with him.
"If you keep stealing my clothes I won't have anything left to wear," he murmured with his lips close to her ear.
A delicious little thrill streaked down her spine like an electrical charge that hit her lower back and spread out through her entire body leaving her with tingling fingers and toes.
"You know where to find them," she returned, running her fingers through his short hair. She particularly liked the texture of the super soft hair cut right down his skull on the back of his head.
"I think this shirt looks better on you than it does me," he complimented her, kissing her forehead.
"Mmmm, I doubt that," she chuckled.
The shirt was so loose it drooped to the side baring one of her shoulders and almost hung down her knees. With a belt she might have been able to wear the oversized jersey as a baggy and less than fashionable dress.
"I was wondering when you would make it back it me."
I'll always come back to the place where my heart is hidden safe and sound, she thought, grasping his face between her palms to kiss him square on the mouth. Although she doubted he would laugh at her or think her silly for such sentimentality like Katsuki would, she kept the words to herself.
Katsuki's words came back to her, ringing in her ears and bouncing around in her brain as if he had spoken them in her ear again. "He will be your rock...the dependable one...the man who will always be there for you no matter what."
But she knew the perpetually grumpy and crusty Katsuki loved her dearly just like she did him. It amazed her how she could love two men so fiercely and so differently according to their personality and in accordance of their style of loving her in return.
"I made coffee," Izuku announced, taking her by the hand to pull her to the kitchen. As he poured the fabulous bean juice into her mug with a handle shaped like a butterfly's wing, he said, "So I'm guessing you two worked things out?"
"Yeah," she replied, her face heating with a self-conscious blush.
Izuku had no illusions of what happened between them last night. He knew they would "kiss and make up" and then some even before she left him. It was part of their relationship after all. As long as she sincerely loved both of them, who cares if she shows it? After pouring cream into her coffee until it turned beige, just the way she liked it, he handed her the cup across the counter while she took a seat on a bar stool.
"I told you everything would be fine," he said, pouring himself a cup as well. "Still going to meet his parents tomorrow?"
"Y-yeah," she stammered, feeling her face grow exponentially hotter.
Taking a sip of her coffee, Takara nearly choked on it when she realized she had not told him about meeting Katsuki's parents. She had just found out his plan last night during their discussion.
"How did you know about that?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion when his face suddenly grew as red as his hoodie he was wearing which he had reclaimed from her.
"Oops," he muttered into his cup, slurping noisily.
"Oops? What oops?"
Izuku leaned against the counter, exhaling noisily. Staring into his dark green mug he held with both hands enabled him to avoid looking into her eyes which settled on his cute and flushed face with a dubious glare.
"Bakugo talked to me about the possibility of asking you meet his parents. He was nervous and didn't want to ask. He wondered what I thought you would say. If you would say no or be angry with him."
"To be so mean, he's awfully sensitive isn't he?" she mumbled thoughtfully into her cup.
"Uh huh," he murmured in agreement.
They both knew his constant bitching and complaining coupled with insults boiled down to nothing more than a defense mechanism.
"That explains why you were so calm and understanding about his freak out yesterday. Here I thought you were being emotionally intuitive but you two had already talked about it."
"Look," Izuku said, pushing off the counter to go to her. He set the mug down on the counter and took both of her hands between his, making eye contact with her. His voice sounded deeper, more commanding and self-assured when he spoke his next words. "Don't be angry with him. Or me for that matter. He just wants to do everything right. He wants this relationship to work...for all of us. Since his decision actually affects me too it makes since we would talk about it."
"You're right," she sighed, seeing his well made point and feeling a bit embarrassed by her irritation over the matter.
"We're all still trying to figure out what the hell we're doing here. None of us want to take any missteps. We want make this relationship solid and long lasting."
"I understand," she mumbling, lowering her lids to shield her eyes filled with shame from him.
She had no right to be angry with either of them. Like he said, they were doing their best to navigate uncharted territory. If anything, she should be thrilled he talked to Izuku about the serious matter. It was important to inform him of how Katsuki planned to progress the relationship, taking it a big step into a committed direction. He was a part of their relationship after all.
"When will I get to meet your Mom?" she asked, her eyes meeting his forest green irises.
"Well, I really...I-I don't know," he answered truthfully, his voice back to its normal soft spoken quality. "Honestly, I haven't even considered it."
"Oh," she gasped, lowering her eyes to her coffee cup before raising it to take a sip to wet her dry throat.
"Please, don't be offended. I'm just not...I'm just not ready for that yet."
WOW! Didn't see that coming!, her annoying inner voice screamed. Takara felt like she had been punched in the gut.
Those vibrant green eyes drooped at the outer corners along with downturned mouth. He had not meant to hurt her, but he wanted to be completely truthful. He ran his fingers through her hair making her feel like a pet, giving her a really sad smile that made her feel stupid and childish.
Once again, she had jumped to a conclusion she should not have. Just because Katsuki was ready to take a giant step did not mean Izuku had to make the same step.
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
"For what?" he asked, squeezing her hands as if to comfort her when her hurt filled eyes slid away from his.
"I didn't mean to automatically assume you would..." Her words drifted away as humiliation, and a fair amount of disappointment truth be told, saturated her. It was like a fist had been crammed down her throat and was choking her.
"You've got to understand, I am very protective of my Mom. She's the only one I've ever had. I never knew my dad. And she was the one from the beginning who believed in me no matter what. I can't and won't take the chance of hurting or disappointing her for any reason," he said, stroking his thumbs across the backs of her hands.
Izuku ceased speaking, taking a seat on the stool beside her while keeping a secure hold on her hands as if he never wanted to let her go. That in itself offered solace to her.
"Look at me, Takara," he entreated her, waiting until her eyes returned to his to say his next words. "I just don't think - no, I know she would not understand our relationship. I'm not ready to try to explain it to her yet. I can't take the chance of hurting her if she doesn't understand. I'm sorry."
Takara understood his decision truly is about preserving his mom's emotions and had nothing to do with how he felt about her. She smiled at him, extracting one of her hands from between his. She pressed her palm to his jaw when she saw the tears swimming in his eyes. He is so sweet, so loving. Truly always putting the feelings of those he loved above his own.
"Please understand - "
"I do," she cut him off, gliding her thumb over the freckles dotting his hot, crimson colored cheek. "It's fine. I don't know how much Katsuki is going to tell his parents. I can see that you tell your mother everything, that you would want her to know up front how things are...between all of us. And I think you're right. She wouldn't understand. We're a little confused ourselves."
They both laughed to lessen the tension threatening to throttle the both of them.
"One thing I do know is," Takara began, the smile fading from her lips as she grew more earnest to convey the sincerity of her next words. "I love you and you love me. And that's enough for right now."
"I agree," he said, leaning forward to press his lips to her.
Something about the kiss gave it a bittersweet feel. As honest as Izuku is about his emotions, quick to feel things and feel them deeply, expressing them openly, "wearing them on his sleeve" as the adage goes, there was also a limit to them. He would only go so far, allowing a chosen few to be privy to their brave new world and approach to a relationship built for three.
Takara completely understood his decision not to tell his mother. She had no intention of telling her parents - but for a selfish and far less honorable reason. Her mother would cry and be horribly disappointed, packing the emotional baggage to send her on a guilt trip. Although she would not approve, her mother would tell her with dramatic tears in her eyes, "Do what you want to do, dear. You're a big girl. It's your life." And that would be the end of it as she toddles off to pour herself a drink.
Her father, on the other hand would have a far different and much more aggressive reaction. Strict and traditional, the man would absolutely lose his damn mind. However, he would not yell or curse or resort to physical violence.
If he learned of the positively scandalous relationship the best case scenario would be for him to hire a moving company to show up and pack her things. Then he would force her to move to the other side of the world in order to separate her from the two men she loved. Worst case scenario, but still within the scope of very real possibility, would be for him to sic his lawyers on them with big fat checks to pay them to disappear. If they refused the money, a lawsuit would be filed requiring the signing of confidentiality agreements that would entail them cutting off all contact and never even speaking to her again.
Takara sighed wanting to sink through the floor and disappear at the awful possibilities, of the terrible things her father could do to them if he found out she was in love with and actively involved in a relationship with two men. It didn't matter she was a grown ass woman. She was still his property as far as he was concerned. Another accessory to his fabulous life like his numerous houses and cars and watches.
"Takara? Are you all right?" Izuku asked her, drawing her back out of her head.
"I'm fine," she lied. She could feel her lips quivering under her smile and could see by the doubt in his eyes he was not buying her bullshit. "Why?"
"We're never going to meet your parents are we? We're going to have hide our relationship like a dirty little secret," he stated rather than asked.
"Y-yeah. I'm sorry," she apologized.
"I won't say I understand," Izuku said, holding out his open palms inviting her to hold his hands. "But from what I've read about your father...he is not a nice man."
She laughed bitterly; an awful, harsh guffaw to her own ears.
"That's an understatement," she scoffed. "People are a commodity to him. They are disposable products to be used until they have served their purpose then discarded. That goes for his employees as well as his family. You have to enhance and complete his image. Or you don't exist in his world."
"What do you mean?"
"For example, my mom has had so much plastic surgery she doesn't even look like the woman in the pictures standing next to my father on their wedding day. She drinks too much and pops tranquilizers like candy so she can still wear a smile. But the Botox helps."
"Oh, my god," he murmured, his eyebrows drawing together and his top lip curling back from his teeth in disgust. "I'm so sorry."
"I have a confession to make, Izuku," she whispered, leaning toward him. "I never wanted to play the cello. It's the instrument my father chose for me. But I learned to love it...like I learned to love my quirk. I always thought my quirk was stupid and useless. So I continued to play that damn cello. Doing so made my silly quirk useful and good. I found a purpose other than being my father's show pony. I keep doing it because my music and my quirk bring enjoyment and happiness...and healing...to those who experience it."
"Wow," murmured Izuku, his eyes riveted to her face.
"What?" she asked, giggling self-consciously because of the ardent way he stared at her with a toothy grin lighting up his entire handsome face.
Takara had always dreamed of someone looking at her that way - with love and admiration shining through their eyes. That warm expression of sincere devotion made his lively green eyes all the more beautiful.
"You're glowing," he sighed wistfully, pressing the tips of his fingers to her cheek. "Did you know that Kacchan plays the drums?"
"No way," she gasped, genuinely flabbergasted. "You're teasing me?"
"Nope. I swear it's the truth. I can't believe he didn't tell you. Although...I guess I shouldn't really be surprised he hasn't mentioned it to you."
"Does he still play?"
"He used to get together with Momo, Denki, Tokoyami, and Jiro to play just for fun. But after becoming professional heroes, there wasn't much time for that. Getting him to play at the school festival in high school required a massive amount of guilt tripping and possibly a bribe or two. But," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "If you asked him to play for you, I'm sure he would. You two make a beautiful duet."
"Oh," she inhaled, her eyelashes lowering to rest on her cheek. "Our trio is working out quite nicely though don't you think?"
"I do," he agreed, kissing her forehead. "So if you could play a different instrument, what would you play?" Izuku questioned her to shift the conversation to a lighter note while still being somewhat on topic.
Takara shrugged. "I don't know. I never had the chance to discover what instrument I really want to play for myself."
"Can you play anything else?"
"Of course. I can play the violin and the piano."
"But not by any choice of your own?"
"Nope."
"Hmmm..." he hummed thoughtfully, letting go of one of her hands so he could prop his chin on his hand. Growing introspective, he began to mumble like he always does when he's working out an excessively trying problem that his head won't contain.
"Hey," Takara said, hopping off her stool and tugging on his arm. "I'm going to get dressed so we can take a walk. I want something that is really fatty, sugar, and bad for me. Let's go to the donut shop."
"Okay. Sounds good to me."
Being a Saturday morning, families and couples jammed the sidewalk on their way to eating, shopping, or playing in the park. Izuku and Takara held hands but did not talk as they were carried along in the slow moving flow of human bodies. They managed to break out of the crowd, stepping right through the open door of the donut shop to take their place at the end of the line not far from the door.
Both of their phones beeped simultaneously. They checked them and laughed. It was a text message from Katsuki asking where the hell they were at.
"You want to answer him?" Izuku asked already sliding his phone back into his pocket.
"Sure. I'll even ask if he wants something," she added, typing the words.
Katsuki responded with: You know what sweet thing I'd like to eat. It may be in that shop but they don't sell it there.
Takara was positive she blushed the deepest red she ever had in her life, her face feeling as if it had been ignited and set ablaze.
"What'd he say?" Izuku asked, casting a glimpse at her. Her intense blush warranted a double take and a chuckle from him.
"Uh, he doesn't want anything," she replied.
"Nothing they have here right?" he asked, chortling then clearing his throat.
"Stop it," she snapped, elbowing him in the ribs.
"Next!" the girl behind the glass case called.
Immediately the cute girl's eyes were riveted on Izuku, and Takara became invisible.
"Good morning!" she chirped cheerfully. "What may I get for you, Sir?"
Takara was getting accustomed to fading into oblivion when with one of her hero boyfriends. Honestly, not being the center of attention did not bother her in the least having been on stage for many years. Also the attention showered on them by other women did not bother her, for the most part anyway, because she knew at the end of the day she had the complete attention of two very important men who adored her. And she loved them dearly in return. Sighing and shaking her head, she looked over the delectable choices behind the glass.
"I'll have a cream puff, please," Izuku responded.
Cream puff huh? You are most certainly NOT what you eat Izuku Midoriya, she thought to herself as she continued to look over the selection of edible works of art.
Izuku and his beaming smile inspired her to choose a pillowy round doughnut topped with a sunny yellow yuzu flavored glaze, topped with candied pieces of the tart fruit, and filled with a tangy and sweet cream flavored by yuzu as well.
Then she spied something interesting in a back corner of the bottom shelf in case. An almost spherical pastry that resembled an apple covered in a shiny red glaze.
"What is that?" she asked the girl who was busy chatting about eclairs with Izuku.
"Oh, that's something new we're trying. The owner is calling it Forbidden Fruit," she explained pulling one out of the case for Takara to get a better look at it.
At the top of the 'apple' was a brown milk chocolate stem and piece of matcha mochi pressed and formed into the shape of a leaf.
"Forbidden fruit? Like the whole Garden of Eden thing?" Takara inquired, fascinated by the supremely detailed dessert.
"Exactly. It looks sweet and pleasant but it's the dessert that bites back. There's cayenne pepper in the cinnamon apple filling. The glaze is made of spicy cinnamon candy and a pinch of ghost pepper for a little extra kick," the employee said with a grin on her face. "Honestly, I don't they're going to sell very well. Who wants a spicy donut?"
I know someone who would like it, she thought. "It's perfect. We'll take one, please."
Takara and Izuku both pulled out their wallets to pay but Izuku insisted he pay for everything.
"I'll buy next time," she offered.
"Deal."
Bakugo's special treat was placed in a box by itself and wrapped up like a present complete with a red ribbon. Takara and Izuku received their pastries in crinkly waxed paper so they could eat them on the way back to the apartment.
Upon entering Takara's apartment, they saw Bakugo perched on a barstool, arms crossed, and looking mad as hell, therefore, he looked normal as always. Takara placed the box on the counter in front of him.
"What the hell is this?" he grumbled, glowering at the box as if something might jump out of it at him.
"It's a pastry called Forbidden Fruit. Give it a try," she prompted him, pulling on one of the tail's of the bow to untie it. She licked her lips while giving him a wink. "You've tasted forbidden fruit before. I think you'll like this too."
"Hmph," Bakugo grunted with a smirk on his face as he opened the box. "I hate sweets."
"That's not what you texted earlier," she reminded him.
Izuku had turned his back to pour them cups of coffee. When he turned around to hand them their cups his face was still so brightly shaded in red it nearly rivaled the color of his hoodie.
Bakugo took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Suddenly his face began to turn pink.
"Shit, that's spicy," he commented, taking another bite. "Damn...that's pretty good."
"See, you never know what you'll like until you try it," she said, raising her coffee cup as if toasting him.
"God," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "You sound like my mother."
"Good. Hopefully that means we will get along well," she said.
"What should we do now?" Izuku asked, putting his arms around Takara in a backwards hug and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. He propped his chin on top of her head, keeping his arms securely around her body, his arms under breasts supporting them.
Katsuki seemed to have no problem with Izuku's bout of possessiveness and kept eating the donut until it was gone. He sucked the sticky sweet and definitely spicy glaze from his fingers before it could dye them red.
"How about a swim to work off the donuts?" Katsuki suggested, poking her in the belly.
Takara self-consciously sucked in her toned belly.
"You're so mean. But that is a good idea," she agreed with a sigh.
"Let's go."
After swimming several laps, they returned to their respective apartments for a shower before gathering back at Takara's to make lunch together. Gathering up a few leftovers and fresh vegetables, they prepared a spicy cold noodle salad. While doing dishes, Takara yawned several times.
"You should go lie down," Izuku told her, elbowing her out of the way and pulling the dish towel out of her hand to take over drying the dishes. "You need the rest for tonight."
"Thank you," she replied gratefully, kissing his cheek.
Katsuki turned to follow her with the intention of keeping her company and seeing her off to sleep. Izuku grabbed him by the back of neck, his large hand and long, strong fingers easily holding on to his friend's brawny neck.
"Oh, no, not you. You're going to help me finish these dishes," he informed the grumpy man attempting to make a quick getaway.
"Dammit," Katsuki grumbled but turned back to the sink to complete dish duty.
Rather than lying down on the couch, Takara went straight to her room to curl up in bed. Lack of sleep mixed with lots of physical activity had exhausted her. However, if was a good kind of tired if that sort of thing actually existed.
Humming and smiling to herself, she went over the first act of the evening in her head. The performance had gone off without a hitch in rehearsal. She could hardly wait until Izuku and especially Katsuki saw the surprise she had in store for them.
~\../~
"Will it be starting soon?" Katsuki asked for the third time, glancing at his watch.
"It's only five after, buddy, calm down," Eijiro said, slapping him on the shoulder.
"Yeah, Bakugo, these things take time and lots of preparation. It's not surprising there might be a small delay," said Uraraka, gathering her shawl around her bare shoulders. She had worn a black off the shoulder formal dress.
Despite the concert supposedly being more casual and laidback, the patrons were not. Everyone was dressed in suits and cocktail dresses as if this was a typical concert. The rich and famous along with many heroes had come to show their support and give their money to a worthy charity. None had sacrificed their fashion sense for comfort to enjoy the six course dinner and hours of entertainment.
Izuku, Bakugo, and almost all of their friends were in attendance, taking up three tables flanking one entire front side of the secondary stage. The people who could not attend sent donations for the Children's Hospital Fund.
Tonight's fund raiser was being held in the open auditorium where the reception had been. Once again, large round tables covered in white table cloths seating ten people at each took up the entire space, and it was a completely packed house. A stage had been constructed in the middle of the room with aisles leading to it from four directions. An incline led up to the stage on the back side with steps on the other three so the performers could gain access to it. There was a second stage against the back wall where chairs and instruments were already placed.
The lights blinked three times signaling the performance would soon begin. Conversations ended abruptly when the lights went out entirely enveloping the room in darkness. The double doors at the front of the auditorium were thrown open to reveal two round lights resembling headlights streaming blinding light into the room.
Attendees in the path of the twin beams squinted and shielded their faces with their hands. Some looked around in confusion while others shifted in their sheets uncomfortably as they wondered what the hell was going on.
The lights inside the room came back up, dim but shedding enough illumination the people could see the beautifully restored burgundy 1932 Ford 18 rolling into the room. The 1932 Ford 18 was a popular car of gangsters and criminals of that era such as the suicidal and homicidal and eventually suicidal couple Bonnie and Clyde.
The car must have been specially designed to be battery operated because it made no noise as it slowly crawled along the wide red carpet. There was absolutely no tell tale smoke from the tail pipe or gasoline smell either. It drove up the incline and parked in the middle of the stage while an awed audience watched in silence.
Notes being banged out on a piano broke the stillness startling many people causing them to jump in their seats and giggle self-consciously. The doors on either side of the car opened and long slim legs covered in black fishnet stockings and wearing bearing black and white wingtip pumps on the feet poked out of each. The women belonging to those legs stepped out wearing what appeared to be nothing more than a double breasted jacket with silver sequined pin stripes and black fedora's with a sparkling matching silver sequined band. Two more women followed dressed the same way, then two men in full gangster suits.
It's like a fucking clown car. How did they get that many people in there?, Katsuki wondered. At least two of the women had to be sitting in the laps of those guys.
Nothing could be seen of the women's faces except for their shiny red lips. Each set of women had a man between them, their arms linked through his to be escorted down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, they swung their hips from side to side, jostling the man between them, before letting go and separating from him.
"Where is she?" Izuku whispered to Katsuki.
"How the hell I would know?" he hissed back. She had not told him a damn thing. "Maybe she's not performing yet."
Bakugo's eyes scanned the two woman dancing near them. His eyes moved from the head down to the feet then back up, ceasing their roaming at the thighs. The woman closest to them had thick, finely muscled thighs revealed right up to her ass cheeks under the short jacket dress.
Fuck me. His abdomen clenched tightly. He knew those luscious thighs because they had been pressed against his hips last night, flexing and squeezing as she held him down to make love to him.
"That's her," he said, jerking his chin in her direction. "The one on the right."
"Damn," mumbled Izuku. "Holy fuck she looks great."
Had he not been so mesmerized by her legs he would have done a double take in Izuku's direction since it was not like him to use such foul language. He shared the sentiment.
As if on cue, Takara sidled up to their table, moving in flawless rhythm with the music, her steps mirroring those of her fellow dancers. She pushed back her hat, tilting back her head so they could see her face. She winked at Katsuki and blew a kiss to Izuku. Breaking out of choreographer, she hugged Uraraka and greeted Kirishima with an excited wave and mouthed hi to him. He waved back with a goofy grin on his face.
"You are one lucky man, my friend," Eijiro commented as he observed her sashaying away swinging her hips to the music.
"She can't sing worth a damn, but she sure can dance," Katsuki murmured, keeping his eyes on her.
Like the rest of her fellow dancers, Takara worked her way through the crowd. Each time the word bang was mentioned in the song, she would swing her hips in a wide arc targeted toward someone, mostly men.
One time she was standing between two men at their table, her forearms resting on their shoulders. When the word bang was heard, her hips bumped one man in the shoulder causing him to laugh much to the chagrin of his wife. As her hips swung back in the other direction, she hit the second man who gamely pretended to be shot, grabbing his chest and slumping over slightly. To thank him for his willingness to be such a good sport and improvise to play along, she tipped her hat then bent over to place a kiss on the top of his bald head leaving behind a flawless set of lip prints.
Automatically reacting out of jealousy, Katsuki shot up out of his chair like a rocket to his feet. Before he could move any further, Izuku stood beside him, his hand coming down hard on his overprotective friend's shoulder, pushing him back down into his chair.
"Sit down," he commanded him. When they were back in their seats, he leaned over to say, "That's Mori Miyamoto, CEO of a leading pharmaceutical company who supplies the hospital with medication. I'm sure they're hoping for a big donation either monetarily or with assistance with meds to their patients who can't afford them."
"All right," Katsuki groused, plopping back down into his seat.
Katsuki almost came unglued a second time, ready to whip someone's ass, when one of the male dancers grabbed Takara by the waist to pull her into him. They danced a few steps of an Argentine tango which placed their bodies way too close together for his comfort. Their legs intertwined then released, their bodies turning and gliding in tempo with the music without tangling and tripping each other. With a little hop, they transitioned into a quick step then he spun her away to catch hold of a new partner to continue the dance.
Takara spun like a top until coming to a stop right between Katsuki and Izuku. First she kissed Izuku on the cheek. She meant to do the same to Katsuki, but he turned his mouth toward her, catching her lips. The kiss was hard and he did not pull his lips away. To break the kiss, she stood up quickly, her entire face almost as red at her smudged lipstick. The song was over so she pivoted on her foot to make a quick retreat with the others.
"Oh, my god," Eijiro laughed when she hit Bakugo with her hip almost knocking him out of his chair before flouncing off.
Katsuki could only chuckle with a mischievous smirk on his face as he wipes the lipstick off his lips staining the pristine white napkin.
The musicians who had already taken their places on the front stage began to play as a new group of dancers ran out from behind the curtain to start the second performance and divert the patron's attention as the car was being backed down from the stage in the center of the room.
"They've really gone all out, haven't they?" Uraraka said. "It's really quite remarkable."
Tenya pushed up his glasses before saying, "They understand you have to spend money to make money. This is quite an impressive event. Did you know the musicians themselves have paid for everything and all donations are going to the hospital?"
They did. Takara had told them. She explained that was their part and the least they could do in the fundraiser.
"I've actually spent quite a lot of time at the hospital myself helping out in the rehabilitation wing," Tenya added proudly.
"How is your brother doing?" Izuku asked.
"Much better thank you. He can walk a bit now. It's not very far, and it's with the help of a harness while being suspended between handrails. He is using more of his own strength every day. It's major progress considering they said he would never get out of his bed or wheelchair," he said looking sad but proud all at the same time. "He does get frustrated and quite depressed sometimes though."
"Takara does a lot of volunteering at the Children's section of the hospital. Maybe she could drop by the rehabilitation center and play for them," Katsuki suggested. "She would love to help them."
"That would be great. If it's not too much trouble," Tenya added upon seeing the concerned expression on Izuku's face.
"Kacchan, don't you think you should discuss this with her first?" Izuku asked him. "She's stretched a bit thin as it is."
"Shut up, nerd. You know how she is. She won't turn down an opportunity to help someone especially if all it takes is her music."
"You're right, and that's exactly why you - "
They received several vehement hisses to be quiet from surroundings tables so they ended the conversation before it could turn into an argument.
During the intermission, dinner was served and the musicians came out to eat as well. Takara joined the group with Izuku and Bakugo, sitting between them.
"You were great," Eijiro complimented her.
"Thanks," she replied, blushing lightly with happiness.
"Will you be performing again?" Uraraka asked her.
"I have one more performance. As a matter of fact, I will actually have to cut my time here short. We're the first act after dinner," she said, feeling Katsuki's hand take hers under the table.
"Hey, uh, I kinda volunteered you for something," he confessed.
"What?" she inquired, picking up her water to guzzle it down.
"I said you would play for the people in the rehabilitation center. I think it would really help them while they are going through their exercise routines. It would take their mind off the pain...help ease their frustration if their recovery is slow," he explained.
"That's a great idea!" she exclaimed. "Of course I'll do it. I will go by there and speak to the nurses the next time I go see the children."
"Great," he said, squeezing her hand.
"You should eat," Izuku prompted her, pushing the plate of untouched food toward her. "You need your strength."
He worried that she might be pushing herself too hard. Her big heart and willingness to help out any way she could might land her in a hospital bed among the people she is trying to help.
Takara suddenly leaned over to kiss Izuku's cheek. Patting where she had placed the kiss, she looked into his eyes and assure him, "I'm fine. Don't worry."
Her actions garnered inquisitive and bumfuzzled stared from their friends sitting at the table with them. The love and affection in her actions did not go unnoticed by any of them. The fact that Katsuki did not commence to pummeling Izuku after the peck befuddled them.
In high school if Izuku even glanced at the hot headed blonde he wanted to beat the hell out of him. Things between them could not have changed that much. Or could they? The friends were beginning to wonder if there was more than friendship going on between the trio by the way they interacted and reacted to each other.
While shoveling in food, oblivious to the curious, furtive glances from across the table, she looked around and waved to their friends seated at the other tables. Seeing Jiro and Denki at one while Momo and Tokoyami were seated nearby at the third table, she decided she would speak to them about getting the band back together for a performance. If Katsuki was willing to take it upon himself to volunteer her for a gig, she would return the favor by organizing a musical reunion among his friends and fellow musicians. Unfortunately, there was no time at the moment and would have to be done later.
For her second performance, Takara appeared on the front stage wearing overalls and a red and white checkered shirt that looked like a tablecloth underneath. Taking her cello from its stand, she spun it on its leg and looked it up and down as if she had never seen it before. She was barefoot, the legs of her overalls rolled up at uneven lengths. Her hair had been pulled up into two high pigtails one on each side of her head and tied with big red bows. Freckles had been painted onto her exaggeratedly blushed cheeks.
Bakugo smiled upon recalling seeing her practice this exact routine. His smile vanished when he saw her male counterpart come out on stage to take his violin from the stand beside her.
The man wore no shirt under his overalls. The undone strap and flipped down bib displayed half of his well built chest for all to see - whether they wanted to see it or not. He wore a floppy straw hat on his head obscuring his face, but he still recognized that man as the one Takara was dancing with earlier in the gangster garb.
Takara pointed at the violin and covered her mouth pretending to hide a smile while laughing exaggeratedly moving her shoulders up and down. She pointed at the violin then her cello before holding up her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. Pretending to laugh again, she pointed at the violin as if making fun of its small size.
The man raised his bow and played the first notes of the song challenging her to a duel to prove size does not matter when it comes to music. Half way through the song, they put down their instruments while the rest of the orchestra took over playing the music. The two linked arms while facing each other, skipping around in a circle to begin the square dance. Several other people dressed similarly to them joined them on stage along with a square dance caller, a man yelling out in English the moves to perform.
Katsuki had not seen this part of the routine, only the beginning with the dueling cello and violin. She really is a shockingly good dancer who could dance almost anything. A smile of pride split his face.
His mind drifted away to what had occurred after the rehearsal, when he took her away from the conservatory and drove her down to the beach for their picnic. She looked so happy that day. Presently, she looked positively radiant, ecstatic, and overjoyed with a huge grin on her face punctuated by the occasional laugh as she switched partners and do-si-doed her way across the stage.
Seeing her happy made him happy. He was proud to call her his. He couldn't wait for her to meet his parents tomorrow.
