Chapter 1: Gimme Some Sugar (please and thanks)

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"This is really stupid. Unbelievably stupid. Mom might not even want this, anyways, with how she's been going on about that recent diet fad." Izuku rolls his eyes skyward, worrying a lip between his teeth. "I should trash this disaster and bring a salad."

He sighs with exasperation, staring back down at the mixing bowl with a grimace. He doesn't want to waste the ingredients he's already combined. How could he have gotten this far into the process without making sure he had enough of everything?

All he needs is another third of a cup of sugar. Just a third.

Maybe the recipe could survive the loss? He rummages through his cabinets again, hoping he's overlooked a spare bag somewhere. He's already scavenged the last of his sugar jar by the coffee mugs. He checks online for reasonable ingredients that he could use in exchange, but none of them sound quite right. As a last-ditch effort, he skims the comment section below his chosen recipe and groans in misery as he spots no less than three users forewarning doom if the required sugar isn't precisely measured.

He (probably) isn't going to cry over a failed dessert.

He doesn't really relish the idea of bringing a salad to his mom's house for dinner. The whole reason behind the fancy, delicate (terrible idea) dessert was to spoil her a little.

He sighs, wiping the remnants of flour from his fingertips on his apron. He can just hit up the bakery on the way to her house.

The waste of ingredients is fine.

(Not like the waste of his skills thanks to ridiculous job requirements.)

No big deal.

His mom won't care what she's missing out on, so long as he stops by with his cheerful self.

(Just like his occasional employers don't care what they're missing out on, so long as he keeps sending in his work.)

(It's fine.)

The tiniest thump next door startles him from his brief moment of self-flagellation and his brain clicks in a new direction. A vaguely terrifying direction, but it just might work.

He can...ask.

He can knock on his neighbor's door and ask for a cup of sugar. People do it all the time in the movies!

He blinks at the absurdity of his reasoning, reconsidering how idiotic it may (or may not) be. The weekend at this time of day is probably the best time to intrude on a neighbor he hasn't met. Asking for a cup of sugar with a promise of sharing the end result might be a great way to make a new acquaintance, anyways, right?

All of the neighbors on his floor are absurdly quiet, although he's pretty sure he's heard a cat once or twice. Sometimes he isn't even certain there is anyone living in the apartment next to his, but the sound a moment ago gives him reason to believe otherwise.

He might get lucky and it'll be some adorable old lady that dotes on her eight cats and knits scarves for a dozen grandchildren.

He picks up the measuring cup and sighs at it one final time, gathering his resolve to head next door armed with his most charming smile. Maybe she'll at least take pity on his novice attempts at baking even if she's not keen on making a new acquaintance with the hopeless guy next door.

(He leaves his door open a crack so he can quickly escape in case it turns out to be an angry old man with an attack dog.)

He'd really rather not impose on someone unnecessarily, but before he has a chance to psych himself out of an awkward attempt at meeting someone new, he's already knocked three times on the neighbor's solid wooden door. He swallows back his nerves, glancing down the hall at the two doors on the other side of the hallway.

the cute guy next door (might be a villain) // ShinZukuWhere stories live. Discover now