The Heights Alliance dorm kitchen was unusually quiet for a Saturday evening, but it wouldn't be for long. A small chalkboard near the fridge read Tonight's Dinner: Mapo Tofu – Tsu & Bakugou in bubbly handwriting, courtesy of Mina.
It was part of Class 1-A's new idea for socializing: weekly community dinners, with rotating pairs in charge. It had started as a goofy bonding activity, but lately Mina had been pairing up people she thought had the best "romantic spark," as she revealed to the other girls during a late-night gossip session. Which meant, naturally, that Tsuyu and Katsuki were paired up as the only official couple in the dorm.
Tsuyu stood near the counter, her sleeves rolled up and hair tied back in a tighter bun than usual. She looked at the recipe Katsuki had handed her—neatly scribbled on a folded sheet of paper with DON'T SCREW IT UP underlined twice at the bottom. It didn't look like his handwriting.
"Your mom's recipe, kero?" she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.
Katsuki was pulling spices and ingredients out of the pantry like he was on a mission. "Yeah. So don't half-ass it, Froggy."
"I don't half-ass anything," she replied calmly, placing a tofu block on the cutting board and lining up the knife. Whenever Tsuyu cooked tofu for her younger siblings she would slice it into uniform cubes.
A second later, Katsuki appeared beside her. "Hold it."
She paused. "Something wrong?"
Katsuki huffed and reached over, sliding her hand slightly off the tofu block. "Don't cube it. Triangular slabs have more surface area, they get a better texture when you cook 'em."
"Really?"
"Trust me, Tsu. It's how my mom does it."
Before she could adjust, Katsuki stepped behind her.
Tsuyu blinked. "What do you need, Katsu—"
"Your grip's off. You'll crush the tofu." He reached around, calloused hands covering hers, guiding the blade. "Angle it like this, light pressure. Let the knife do the work. Now rotate."
The closeness caught her off guard. Katsuki was so awkward when they cuddled for the first time last week, but in the kitchen he had zero hesitation. His chest was warm at Tsuyu's back, his arms braced lightly around hers—confident, steady. She could feel the strength in them, but he wasn't using any of it. He was guiding her gently, patiently.
She blushed. Hard.
Tsuyu's fingers froze on the tofu, eyes wider than usual. Katsuki glanced down. "What's the matter, Froggy? You forget my instructions already?"
"I—I'm fine," she said quickly, resuming her slicing. "Just needed a second."
Katsuki raised a brow. "You look red. Is the kitchen too stuffy?"
Tsuyu didn't answer, refocusing intently on the tofu. She finished the last few slices without hesitation, though her face still felt warm.
"Slabs look good," he muttered, eyeing her work. "Better than Kirishima's attempt last week. He nearly diced them into soup."
She smiled, pleased. "I'll keep your method in mind when I cook back home. You're a thorough teacher."
"Thanks. Apparently not thorough enough for Shitty Hair."
They moved through the rest of the mapo tofu recipe smoothly. Katsuki stir-fried the ground pork with precise timing while Tsuyu prepped the aromatics. When it came time to add the chili bean paste, the kitchen filled with a sharp, spicy scent hinting at the food's mouth-numbing flavor.
Most of the class were already hovering nearby, with a few—namely, Kaminari, Sero, and Mineta—loudly asking when the food would be done. Katsuki paid them no mind as he and Tsuyu plated the dish. A deep red sauce, simmering with flecks of chili and soft tofu slabs balanced just right.
"Damn, that smells amazing," Kaminari said, practically drooling. "Bakugou, when did you learn to cook like this?"
Mina leaned against the counter, staring in awe at Katsuki and Tsuyu's handiwork. "You two are such professionals! I knew what I was doing when I paired you lovebirds together this week," she declared.
Katsuki grunted as he carried plates over to the nearby table. "My mom taught me when I was a kid. I learned how to not screw things up."
"I didn't know you liked spicy food, Tsu," Ochako added, watching the frog-girl ladle a generous portion onto her own plate.
"I don't eat spicy things very often, but I like things with strong flavors," Tsuyu said. "And it was Katsuki's idea. Anything he cooks will be delicious."
Mina wiggled her eyebrows at Katsuki ridiculously. He didn't say anything, but his ears turned pink.
As the class sat down around the dining table, the room quickly filled with sounds of approval—clattering chopsticks, satisfied groans, and the occasional "holy crap this is spicy but SO GOOD" from Sero. Tsuyu silently agreed. Her face still felt heated, but it was definitely all from the chili bean paste.
She sat beside Katsuki, quietly watching everyone eat. Her lips curved into a small smile when Koda shyly asked for seconds.
"You know," she said to her boyfriend softly, "you didn't yell at anyone once during cooking."
"I was too busy making sure we didn't screw it up," he shot back, but there was no edge in his voice.
She turned slightly toward him. "That's surprising. You seemed very… confident throughout the process. It was attractive, kero."
Katsuki turned beet red. She always enjoyed being blunt about her affection for him. "I'm… glad you think that."
"Was that the first time you made mapo tofu without your mom?"
He glanced at her, then down at his plate.
"Yeah. You made it easier."
After dinner, while the others argued over who'd do dishes, Tsuyu tapped Katsuki's elbow. "I want you to try something."
He raised an eyebrow, but followed obediently as she led him back into the kitchen. "You got a surprise for me?"
From one of the drawers in the fridge, she pulled out a small tray of translucent, yellow-orange cubes. They jiggled as she set them on the counter.
"Homemade jelly made with citrus juice," she explained. "I like to make it for my siblings. Thought it might be a good dessert, but I usually make it for three… I'll need to make a lot more to feed the whole class."
Katsuki eyed the cubes of jelly skeptically. "That's a shit-ton of sugar. You don't remember what I said last time you ate jelly with something spicy?"
She handed him a small spoon. "Just try it. If you don't, the others will finish it."
He grumbled under his breath but took a bite. His eyes widened.
It was tart and sweet and cool, with just enough chew to balance the melt. The flavor hit right behind the spice from dinner, like it was meant to follow it. Tsuyu watched him expectantly.
He swallowed and looked away. "It's... not bad."
"'Not bad'?" She tilted her head, teasing just a little. "Is that Katsuki for 'good'?"
"Don't push your luck." But he took another bite.
"Maybe next time," she said, "we can make a full course. Dinner and dessert. Something spicy, something sweet."
Katsuki leaned against the counter. "You already got a 'next time' planned?" he smirked. "What if Raccoon-Eyes mixes up the schedule again?"
"Well, you heard what Mina said. We make a good pair."
He didn't respond right away.
Tsuyu turned to clean the counter, wiping up a bit of sauce. She didn't see the way Katsuki looked at her for a long second—eyebrows slightly furrowed, like he wasn't sure how to express the warmth curling in his chest.
Finally, he stepped forward, enveloping her in a protective hug. Tsuyu could feel the warmth radiating from his chest again. "Yeah. We do," he muttered.
She turned her head upward, caught his gaze, and smiled.
And this time, he was the one who blushed.