Chapter 15

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Denki's POV

It's a short walk to the kitchen. Short and quiet. Almost awkwardly so.

"So what's your favorite food?" I ask peeking behind me. Shinso seems kinda spacey. I open the door to the kitchen, holding it for Shinso as he passes by.

"Hello? Did you hear me?" I question, but his head remains in the clouds. So I sneak up behind him, poking him square in the back with a tiny shock. He jumps and spins around to face me.

"What was that for?" He asks surprised.

"You were ignoring me," I answer with a shrug. I walk past him and over to the sink.

"What's your favorite food?" I ask again, washing my hands.

"Why are you wondering?" He questions skeptically.

"Because if it's something I'm able to make then im gonna make it,"

He seems a bit surprised.

"Why are you so nice? Aren't you supposed to be a villain?"

A deep laugh erupts from my chest. I lean against the counter, trying to hold my self steady from my rattling laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that... I'm not a villain... and, not many people... assume that I am," I spit out through wheezing laughter. This shouldn't be as funny as it is, I just can't help but laugh when someone mistakes me for a villain.

"I assumed you were since you attacked me when I entered," he answers.

"Attack you? I feel like I did what any normal person would do if they found a stanger in their home," I rebuttal. My laughter finally dying out.

"No one from my neighborhood is that brave," he shrugs.

"Really?" I ponder. Thinking back on when I lived with my parents and the neighborhood I lived in. I lived close enough to Izuku to attend the same school as him, but we lived in vastly different neighborhoods. My dad was away at work making pennies an hour and my mom picked up odd jobs here and there. Whenever I was left alone I was always told to assume anyone breaking in was trying to kill me. It's kept me alive so I don't see myself changing, but it's interesting thinking about how some people just don't think that way.

"Yeah, I live in a neighborhood of rich douches who would be way too scared to confront an intruder," he responds.

"But that's irrelevant, to answer your question from before, my favorite food is Gyoza," Shinso says sitting down at our round table.

"Not gonna help?" I question as I begin to round up all my ingredients. I start with what I'll need for the dumpling wraps.

"Cooking isn't really my thing," he answers with a shrug. He pulls one knee up and rests his chin in it. I begin mixing my dry ingredients before adding salted water slowly. The mixture began to turn dough like, once enough of it combines together, I move it to the table surface to start kneading. It takes about 10 minutes of kneading to get the texture I want. After which, I split it up, rolling the dough into balls to wrap and let rest.

I peak up to Shinso to find him staring. A weird haze over his eyes telling me that he isn't mentally present. I wonder what he's thinking about. My own mind wonders as I collect the same ingredients I've used the hundreds of times I've made this dish. My muscles and body moving on it's own memory as I think about Shinso. Will he actually stay without a fuss? I'm not naive enough to believe he will, just hopeful enough to think he will. I do feel bad though. I really wish he hadn't come in, then he wouldn't be stuck here.

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