Chapter Text
Working at an ice cream shop was a nice enough job, if not the most exciting. Izuku had been working there since early in his undergrad career, and once he made assistant manager, it seemed silly to quit just because he started his graduate program. He was still attending the same school, after all, so he didn't need to move; the hours weren't bad, and the job was usually low-stress.
That last part was nice, especially, because even though he was only taking classes part-time in grad school, he was also working part-time as an assistant for one of his professors, and honestly, making little kids happy by serving them ice cream four days a week was helping to keep him sane.
So it was nice. But not exciting.
Until one day, when the last person Izuku would have expected walked into the shop.
—
The little bell above the door chimed as Izuku was facing the back wall, restocking cups. At the sound, he let out his automatic greeting of "Welcome to our shop!" before even beginning to turn around—which turned out to be a good thing, because if he had been in the middle of it when he saw who just walked in, he would have stopped talking mid-sentence.
As it was, he gaped soundlessly, not sure he was actually seeing what he was sure he was seeing.
Bakugou Katsuki had just walked into his ice cream shop.
Kacchan had just walked into the shop where Izuku had worked for the last four years.
He almost wanted to question if it really was Kacchan, because they hadn't seen each other since their third year of middle school, unless you counted awkwardly passing each other on the streets of their neighborhood during school holidays a few times during high school.
Well. It was awkward for Izuku, at least. Probably not so much for Kacchan, who would barely spare him a glance and mostly looked irritated that Izuku dared to wave at him, like they were actually still friends or something.
So it had been seven years now—holy crap, seven years —since they had actually spoken to each other, or even been in the same room, and it would have been understandable to have some doubt in his mind whether this was indeed his childhood-friend-turned-…whatever they were by that last year of middle school.
Because what they were now were strangers.
Except…except Kacchan would never really be a stranger, to Izuku.
And any doubts he might have had about the identity of this customer vanished before they could take hold, as soon as the guy looked towards the menu board above Izuku's head.
Yep. This was Kacchan.
Izuku was probably holding his breath as Kacchan walked up to the counter, scowling at the menu. It was a familiar scowl, though maybe a little harsher than Izuku remembered.
Only Kacchan could look so angry about buying ice cream. Izuku had to force himself not to outright grin at the thought, but he could feel a small smile on his face anyway. That was fine. Smiling at customers was one of the reasons he was a valued employee, after all.
"What can I get for you?" Izuku asked brightly, expectantly, his heart beating fast in anticipation. Kacchan hadn't actually looked at him yet, but any second now he would, and then…
Well, Izuku wasn't really sure what would happen, but he was eager to find out.
"Kid's cone, flavor of the—what the hell, the flavor of the month is orange sherbet?"
"Um," Izuku said, caught off guard both by the question and the little nostalgic thrill that had gone through him at the roughness of the voice asking it.
(Which, if he had the time to stop and think about it, he would have realized was a little weird, since Kacchan's voice was nowhere near that deep and rough for most of the time they actually knew each other.)
"Whatever," Kacchan continued, "I'll take it. Not like it's for me anyway."
"Oh," Izuku said, still floundering a little. Kacchan still hadn't looked at him. "Um, in that case, do you want a cup, so it doesn't melt on you?"
That got him to look at Izuku, finally. Izuku almost jumped when that scowl focused on him.
"Did I ask for a cup?"
"No, I just thought—it might be easier? You can have the cone and the cup both…"
Kacchan narrowed his eyes slightly, and Izuku definitely held his breath that time, pulse racing.
"Just the cone."
Kacchan looked away after he said it, and Izuku was left somewhat dumbfounded.
That was it? That was the only reaction he got after seven years?
What the hell, Kacchan!
"How much?"
Izuku blinked, coming out of his slight stupor to see Kacchan pulling money out of a wallet.
"Oh, um…" Izuku shook his head to clear it, then fell back on years of routine as he entered the order into the cash register on autopilot and gave the total. Kacchan gave him exact change, and as Izuku handed over the receipt he glanced up to see Kacchan eyeing him strangely.
It wasn't the "Wait, do I know you" kind of strange, though. It was the "Are you sure you're competent enough to do this ridiculously simple job" kind of strange.
Izuku hadn't seen that look in over three years, so it would be embarrassing anyway, but coming from Kacchan…
He was just glad he could hide his reddening face as he turned to grab a kid-sized cone…and then, on impulse, grabbed the regular-sized one instead.
Maybe he doesn't recognize me , Izuku thought as he lifted the lid on the cooler with the orange sherbet. It was a sad thought, to be sure, but he tried not to let it get him down, because the alternative was much, much worse.
The alternative, of course, being that Kacchan did recognize him and just didn't care. Or didn't think it mattered.
Izuku didn't want to think about that option, so he hung onto the hope that seven years had made him unrecognizable. To someone he saw nearly every day for the 10 years before that.
He focused very intently on scooping sherbet into the cone.
"It's, um, it's nice of you to bring ice cream to someone," Izuku heard himself saying, although he was pretty sure he didn't give his mouth permission to say anything at all. It was just in his nature to chat with customers when the store wasn't busy.
It was also in his nature to run his mouth when he was nervous, but that was definitely not at all what was happening. Nope.
"I don't think I could manage it without getting some for myself too," Izuku continued with an automatic customer-service chuckle. "You must have some major willpower."
It was a stupid thing to say, because it sounded like something you'd say to a stranger, but Izuku knew it was true.
"Here you go," Izuku said, handing the napkin-wrapped cone over the counter to a waiting, still scowling, Kacchan.
Who did not take it.
"You're gonna tell me that's a kid-size cone?" he asked, nodding at the offending cone and looking at Izuku with something like a challenge in his eyes.
Another flash of nostalgia joined warring embarrassment and indignation in Izuku's chest.
"It's…" He looked at the cone, and felt all at once like an idiot. What was he trying to do, bribe Kacchan to remember him? "No, it's a regular-sized cone. I didn't—I charged you for a kid's cone, if that's what you're worried about."
"I'm worried that a grown-ass adult doesn't know how to get an ice cream order right."
Shame welled up in Izuku, and if he was dealing with any other customer, he would have been falling over himself to apologize (not that he'd ever had a customer complain about getting a size too big for free before!). But this wasn't any other customer; it was Kacchan , and something about that walking, talking attitude problem had always affected Izuku a little differently than anyone else.
"I'm sure your friend won't mind getting a little bit extra ice cream," he said evenly, years of customer service habits keeping his eyes from narrowing. "But if you want, I can make a new cone."
"Whatever, it's fine," Kacchan said, finally taking—snatching, really—the cone from Izuku's hand. "And it's not for a friend , it's—"
He stopped talking, turning towards the door with his shoulders hunched, and for a moment Izuku thought that was the end of it, a half-finished sentence and then Kacchan would walk out of the doors and out of his life again. Maybe for good.
"It's for my little sister," he finally finished, and Izuku processed those words right as the bell above the door started ringing, the shock keeping him from even attempting to say anything else.
Because—since when did Kacchan have a little sister?!
—
Izuku spent a lot of time thinking that night. And then a lot of time internet stalking.
The internet stalking was more helpful, of course.
—
Kacchan still didn't have public profiles on any social media sites that Izuku could find (this was maybe not the first time he had tried looking), but Kacchan's mom very much did.
After very thoroughly scouring Bakugou Mitsuki-san's various accounts for well over two hours (and discovering along the way that Kacchan was now attending the same school as Izuku, which likely explained why he had been in the neighborhood), Izuku came to the conclusion that no, the Bakugou family did not have another kid way later that Izuku had never heard of.
Which meant either Kacchan was using a loose definition of "little sister," or he had been outright lying.
Neither option really sounded much like Kacchan, but what the hell did Izuku know, anymore.
Either way, it was obvious that Kacchan really hadn't recognized him. If he had known who Izuku was, he wouldn't have thought he could get away with an explanation like that.
It made sense, once Izuku thought about it rationally, that he wasn't recognized. He grew quite a bit in high school, and joined a sports club which meant a lot more exercise than he had been used to previously. He didn't play sports much anymore, but he still worked out regularly. His hair was also much shorter than it had ever been when he was a kid, and he had to wear a hat at work, so you couldn't see it much at all.
His nametag didn't even have his actual name on it, because some employees a few years ago had had some issues with stalkers and it was company policy now to use aliases. So his tag said "Yatsuya," which started with the second kanji of Midoriya. Probably not similar enough to trigger any sort of connection in Kacchan's mind, especially since he'd never called Izuku "Midoriya" a day in his life.
Rational or not, Izuku still wasn't sure how to feel at not being recognized. Or how he should handle it if Kacchan came back to the shop. All he could do was hope Kacchan would come back into the shop…and that Izuku could work up the nerve to actually do something if he did.
—
"No," Jirou-san said before Izuku could even open his mouth. "There have not been any blond dudes with bad attitudes in today. Or yesterday."
"Okay," Izuku said sheepishly. "Thanks for letting me know."
Jirou-san eyed him for a second, and Izuku wondered if she was finally going to ask about it, but she didn't, and he sighed a little in relief.
It had been three weeks since Kacchan showed up to the shop, and since then Izuku had been asking his coworkers—apparently more often than he realized—whether he had come back.
Today was Thursday, which was the same day of the week that Kacchan had shown up before, and Izuku was trying not to get his hopes up like he had for the past two Thursdays, but he knew that was probably a lost cause.
Izuku was there the whole afternoon until closing. Kacchan didn't show up.
—
The following Thursday, Izuku had adjusted his schedule for a paper he was writing, which meant he missed his regular shift—so of course, that was the day he got a text from Jirou-san.
'I was in the back, but Mina said a grumpy blond dude just left. Maybe your guy.'
Izuku's heart was in his throat as soon as he read the text.
'What did he order?' he sent back.
'Seriously?'
He chewed on his bottom lip, wondering if that was really a weird question to ask and debating on how to respond, when Jirou-san beat him to it.
'Kid's cone, flavor of the month'
Izuku's eyes widened as the familiar heady feeling of new and pertinent information flooded him. He immediately jumped up from his desk and grabbed his wall calendar, then remembered he still needed to thank Jirou-san.
'Thank you!!' he sent, ready to abandon his phone in favor of processing clues when he got an almost immediate response.
'That him?'
He replied with a thumbs-up emoji and turned back to the calendar, flipping to the previous month.
Kacchan had shown up on a Thursday—the last Thursday in May. Today was—he flipped back to the current month—the last Thursday in June.
Not quite enough data to confirm a pattern, but definitely enough to form a hypothesis.
Izuku would definitely be working his regular shift four weeks from today.
—
On the last Thursday in July, the shop was busier than usual with high school students who managed to get out of school early, and Izuku worried that even if Kacchan did show up the crowd would keep him away.
It turned out to not be a totally off-base concern, since the shop finally cleared out around 5:30 and not 10 minutes later, there was a familiar figure walking through the door.
"Welcome to our shop," Izuku said, trying to use his usual upbeat tone but not positive he was able to keep the nerves completely out of it.
Even with all the anticipation, he never did figure out how he was actually going to handle seeing Kacchan again. He had been too busy wondering (and worrying) if he would show up or not.
"You again," Kacchan said, eyes narrowed briefly at Izuku before his attention turned to the menu.
"Me again," Izuku said, willing down the awkwardness. For now, he would just treat Kacchan like any other customer. He could do that. Right?
"Was your sister disappointed?" he heard himself asking, and then had to resist the urge to smack himself in the forehead.
He might not have had a plan, per se, but if he had, "antagonize Kacchan into revealing things about his life now" would definitely have been nowhere on it.
" Hah? " Kacchan said, and oh god, Izuku had to literally turn away to keep Kacchan from seeing the grin he couldn't stop at that familiar expression. To cover for it, he pretended to be suddenly very invested in refilling the napkin dispenser.
"Your sister, who you were getting the ice cream for last time?" Izuku asked, stuffing more napkins in the already-full container. "Was she upset she got more ice cream than she wanted?"
There was silence for a long moment, and Izuku couldn't take it anymore, he had to turn and look.
Kacchan was, unsurprisingly, scowling.
"Yes," he said bluntly.
That was not something Izuku should smile about, and yet. "I'm sorry to hear that. What can I get for you?"
"Yeah, sure you're sorry. And that wasn't last time, last time there was someone here who was actually competent."
"Well, I'm glad you decided to take another chance on our shop. We would hate to lose a customer over an honest mistake."
"Oh, so that's what that was, was it?"
"Of course." It was—Izuku had made the mistake of thinking Kacchan would appreciate a nice gesture.
That was really just a failure on the part of Izuku's memory, because looking back, when had Kacchan ever appreciated a nice gesture?
"Alright then, smartass, let's see if you've learned how to do your job in the last two months. I want a kid's cone with the flavor of the month."
"This month's flavor is matcha. Is that okay, or would you like to taste it first?"
"It's fine. Not like I'm the one who's gonna be eating it anyway. But who the hell picks these boring-ass flavors of the month?"
Izuku smiled innocently. "That would be me."
"And what, you have no imagination or something?"
"Do you have a problem with matcha?"
Izuku possibly said that with more of a tone than he intended (matcha was his favorite flavor, after all, which was why he picked it for his birthday month), and it made Kacchan's eyes narrow in response.
"Why would I care what stupid flavors you pick. Are you gonna get my order or not?"
"Sure thing," Izuku said with a standard-issue customer service smile, then turned and very deliberately picked up a regular-size cone.
"You must be a good big brother," Izuku said as he scooped, trying to keep his voice neutral. "I don't have any siblings, but buying ice cream seems like something a good big brother would do."
Kacchan didn't say anything to that, and when Izuku stood up, Kacchan wasn't even looking at him, instead watching outside the shop windows. Maybe keeping an eye out for more teenagers, or something.
"Here you go," Izuku said to get his attention.
He turned, reaching a hand out automatically, then stopped. His eyes met Izuku's for the first time since he'd walked in the shop, and Izuku could have laughed at the ridiculous amount of rage in them.
"Is there a problem?"
"I should ask for your manager, shithead."
Being threatened and insulted should not send a slight thrill through Izuku. And yet.
"I'm the manager on duty at the moment," Izuku said politely. "Is there a problem?"
Kacchan literally bared his teeth and made a suspiciously growl-like noise as he grabbed the cone from Izuku's hand before turning and stomping towards the door.
"See you next month!" Izuku called cheerfully after him.
Kacchan flipped him off as he went out the door, and Izuku put a hand over his mouth to stop the laugh that was rising up.
—
The next month was the busiest of the year in the shop, because kids were out of school and the weather was hot and everyone wanted ice cream. Izuku was on his own summer break as well, which meant he could work more shifts, which meant he was busy enough that he could avoid thinking about his own actions during Kacchan's last visit too closely.
He couldn't help at least a little bit of self-analysis, though, and the best he could come up with was that it was fun getting to tease Kacchan from a place of relative anonymity. Kacchan had been kind of a jerk when they were kids, and while that hadn't made much of an impact on whether Izuku wanted to be around him back then (he did, he always did), it did make it a little satisfying to rile him up now.
Especially over something as completely ridiculous as ice cream.
Growing up, Kacchan had never been a huge fan of sweets in general, but ice cream was always a major exception. Ever since he first showed up in the shop, Izuku had been trying to remember what his favorite flavor was, but he hadn't been able to. That fact, combined with Kacchan choosing the flavor of the month every month, led Izuku to the possible conclusion that Kacchan didn't really care what kind it was, as long as it was ice cream.
He also didn't buy it for a second that Kacchan wasn't getting the ice cream for himself. Otherwise why would he care how "boring" the flavor of the month was? And why would he be annoyed at getting more than he asked for?
Although that was actually a good question either way. It could easily just be a control thing; Kacchan did always like being in control.
Which meant, for reasons he didn't intend to inspect further any time soon, that Izuku was going to continue to very happily not give Kacchan exactly what he asked for.
—
"No," Kacchan said immediately after Izuku greeted him when he walked in the shop that month. It wasn't empty, for once, but there was no one else in line right then. Izuku also wasn't out front by himself.
"No?" Izuku asked.
"No. Not you. Let her take my order," Kacchan said, pointing at Jirou-san, who was wiping down the back counter, headphones in her ears.
"She's busy right now," Izuku said, looking back at Kacchan.
"You telling me she's the only employee here capable of cleaning a counter?" Kacchan asked in a biting tone. "Guess that makes sense, since you can't fill a simple order to save your damn life."
Izuku looked at Kacchan evenly, and Kacchan looked back.
Izuku was still trying to decide if it was worth a fight when Kacchan spoke again.
"I'm not gonna be the only person in line forever, asshole."
Yeah, okay, he had a point. Izuku couldn't let him hold up the line. With a defeated sigh, he turned around and lightly touched Jirou-san on the shoulder.
She turned with an eyebrow quirked up, glancing back at the register like she knew what he was going to ask her. She took one earbud out. "Need me to take over?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind," Izuku said with an apologetic smile. "Just for a minute."
Izuku didn't even pretend to take over the cleaning; he just leaned against the back counter and watched the interaction in front of him.
"Can I take your order?" Jirou-san asked, in an acceptable talking-to-customers voice. It wasn't her best effort.
Izuku was starting to think she hadn't actually been listening to music, before.
"That's a good question," Kacchan muttered. Then, more loudly, he gave his usual order. He paid for it, and Jirou-san turned to Izuku.
"Can you get that for me?"
"Su—"
" No ," Kacchan interrupted, and pointed viciously at Izuku. "That incompetent waste of space doesn't touch it. You make it."
Izuku couldn't see Jirou-san's expression, but he could hear the incredulity in her tone. "Wow. Whatever, dude."
She made his cone and handed it over. Kacchan glared at Izuku the entire time.
Izuku smiled back, wondering how in the hell Kacchan still hadn't figured out who he was. Had Izuku really changed that much, or was he just not important enough to have been remembered?
"Enjoy your ice cream!" Izuku called after him as he headed towards the door.
"Screw you!" Kacchan yelled back, causing the group of teenage girls in the corner of the shop to start giggling.
Once he was out the door, Jirou-san turned to Izuku. "What the hell, man, that guy is a total asshole! He was horrible to you. Why were you so excited about him coming back?"
Izuku shrugged, and started checking supplies to see if anything needed restocking. "It's a long story."
"Right," she said, tone disbelieving. "When you kept asking about him, I thought maybe you had a crush or something, but—"
"It's not like that," Izuku said quickly.
"Oh?" she said, and when Izuku glanced over her eyebrows were raised. "I mean, after what I just saw I figured that wasn't it, but that was a pretty quick denial."
Izuku scratched at his cheek, fidgeting a little. "It's not—it's not a crush. It's…complicated?"
"Sure," she said, lightly amused. "Whatever you say. He's not a bad-looking guy, so I mean, if you just liked looking at him when he comes in, I wouldn't blame you. Too bad he can't keep his mouth shut."
"He doesn't have to talk to have an attitude," Izuku said, realizing too late that he was smiling as he said it.
"Uh-huh, and you totally don't have a crush. On a rude asshole who apparently hates you."
At that, Izuku laughed, a little nervously. "He doesn't hate me. He doesn't even know who I am."
"Wait, but—does that mean you know who he is? What, is he some low-level celebrity you're obsessed with, or something?"
Izuku thought about that one for a moment. He wasn't—he wasn't obsessed with Kacchan, was he? No, no, it was totally natural to be curious about someone you grew up with and hadn't seen in years, right?
Maybe passive-aggressively antagonizing them through superior customer service wasn't entirely natural, but that still didn't mean he was obsessed .
"What the hell, he is?!"
Jirou-san's astonished tone brought Izuku back to the moment.
"Huh? Oh, no! No, he's not a celebrity! I mean, at least not as far as I know? Although it wouldn't surprise me if he were , he was always…good at standing out…"
"Midoriya," Jirou-san said, crossing her arms and giving him a look. "Are you gonna tell me the deal with this guy or not?"
"Well," Izuku started, and then the bell chimed, and the next wave of customers began, and Izuku got to avoid the subject for the rest of his shift.
—
September was when he slipped up.
"Are you the only one here?" Kacchan asked after he walked in.
"Yes," Izuku answered brightly.
Kacchan turned around.
"Wait! No, I'll do it right this time! I promise, Ka—" shit, he thought, loudly—"can't you give me another chance?"
Kacchan turned, slowly, an overtly suspicious expression on his face.
Izuku smiled nervously. "Really. No tricks this time. Our flavor of the month for September is blueberry cheesecake. That, um, that's not boring, right?"
"Better than matcha," Kacchan said, grouchily, but he walked towards the register.
"The usual?" Izuku asked.
"What exactly do you think the usual is, hah?"
Izuku smiled again, genuinely this time. "Kid's cone, flavor of the month."
"Did someone have to write that down for you?"
"No, you jerk," Izuku said, amused despite himself, and only when Kacchan's eyes went wide did he realize what he'd just said. To a customer.
"Oh shit," he said, hands going up to cover his mouth. "I cannot believe I said that, I am so incredibly sorry, um. I—I'll get your order now."
"Don't I need to pay for it first?" Kacchan asked, as Izuku was already turning to grab the cone.
"No, please," Izuku said, turning back and waving his arms, "no charge, I just—I shouldn't have said that."
"You're just looking for an excuse to get my order wrong again."
Izuku's jaw dropped. "I am not!"
"Then let me freaking pay for it!"
Izuku narrowed his eyes and walked back to the register, glad the shop was once again empty. "Fine."
Once Kacchan had paid, Izuku turned again to get the cone, then headed for the coolers.
"Wait," Kacchan said as he was lifting the lid. "Let me see what cone that is."
"You're being a little paranoid, don't you think?" Izuku said, but he lifted up the cone anyway.
"Don't you think you're on thin ice, asshole?"
Izuku repressed a sigh and started scooping ice cream.
"What's your favorite flavor, anyway?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Don't have one."
"You don't?" Izuku glanced up, then focused back on his task. "Do you even like ice cream?"
"Why the hell do you care?"
"Because I work in an ice cream shop, and you come in here once a month and you buy ice cream that you don't eat. It hurts my pride, you know."
"It's not like you made the ice cream, idiot."
"Still," Izuku said, handing over the cone.
Kacchan looked at it, then glared at Izuku. "You absolute fucker."
Izuku blinked guilessly. "What? It's the right cone, you checked!"
"Yeah, and you put a monster freaking scoop on it! How the hell am I supposed to eat this without it melting all over the damn place?!"
Izuku grinned wide, delighted. Kacchan looked confused and annoyed for a second longer, then he froze.
"I can give you a cup to put it in," Izuku offered in his most helpful customer service voice.
"Fuck you," Kacchan grumbled, but he took the cone and headed towards the exit.
"I'll pick something good for you next month, Ka—" Shit! Izuku berated himself again, wincing, and tried to come up with another cover.
He wasn't fast enough.
Kacchan turned, slowly, and the expression on Izuku's face must have given him away, because he stalked back towards the counter, looking livid.
"Okay, asshole , that's the second time—how the hell do you know my name? Are you stalking me?!"
"No!" Izuku squeaked, then remembered his internet research. "I mean—no, no, definitely not, Kacchan!"
Kacchan's eyes went wide, and he quickly closed the remaining distance to the counter. Izuku started to back up, but again, he wasn't fast enough—Kacchan raised a hand and flipped the cap off of Izuku's head.
Izuku self-consciously ran a hand over his short hair, and watched as realization settled on Kacchan's face.
"The hat hid your eyes too much," he muttered. Izuku couldn't tell what that tone was; angry or surprised or what. Then Kacchan's face twisted, and there was no mistaking the tone when he snarled "Fucking Deku, " before turning around and dumping his ice cream in the trash, slamming the door open, and leaving.
"Well. Shit," Izuku whispered into the empty shop.