-Beyond the illusion-

Sleepover

The group just returned from the music room, and their stomachs are growling.

As we walked into the common area, I could practically hear my stomach growling. The aroma of snacks wafted through the air, but it was clear we needed something more substantial.

"Ugh, I'm starving!" Mina whined, flopping onto the couch dramatically. "What's for lunch?"

"Maybe we should force Bakugo to cook something," Denki suggested with a mischievous grin, glancing at Bakugo, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking uninterested.

"Hell no. I'm not cooking for all of you," Bakugo shot back, his usual scowl firmly in place.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" I chimed in, trying to persuade him. "You can't just let us starve."

Bakugo rolled his eyes, but I caught a flicker of reluctance in his gaze. "Fine, but I'm not doing this alone. Y/N, you're helping me."

"Wait, what?!" I exclaimed, surprised. "You actually want my help?"

"Do you want to eat or not?" Bakugo snapped, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. He turned away, trying to hide it. "Just get in the kitchen already."

I shot him a playful smile. "Alright, alright. Lead the way, hotshot."

Once we reached the kitchen, I spotted an apron hanging by the door and tied it around my waist. Bakugo grabbed a second one, glaring at me. "I'm not wearing that."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're such a child, Bakugo."

He grumbled but turned away, busying himself with gathering ingredients. I couldn't help but notice how focused he was, and it reminded me of his intense drumming style.

"So, what are we making?" I asked, rummaging through the pantry for a cutting board.

"Just some pasta or something. It's easy," he replied, his back turned to me as he pulled out pots and pans.

"Great choice. Do you even know how to cook?" I teased, crossing my arms as I leaned against the counter.

"Of course I do! I can handle a stove, Y/N," he shot back, his voice laced with mock offense.

"Okay, chef. Show me your skills," I said, grinning. "But if it turns out terrible, I'm blaming you."

Bakugo shot me a sideways glance. "You think I'm going to share my cooking secrets with you?"

"Aw, come on! I promise I won't tell anyone," I said, putting on my best puppy eyes. "I just want to learn from the best."

"Yeah, right. The only thing I'm sharing is how to boil water," he replied, snickering as he stirred the sauce. "And don't mess with my rhythm!"

"Your rhythm? Are we still talking about cooking?" I shot back, trying to keep a straight face.

"Of course! Cooking is just like playing drums. You gotta have timing," he replied, puffing his chest a bit.

I laughed, trying to imagine Bakugo in a cooking competition, going all-out like he would in a battle. "I can totally see you yelling at the pasta if it doesn't cook fast enough."

"Shut up!" Bakugo retorted, but I could see a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

After a while, I felt comfortable enough to ask, "So, how did you get into drumming anyway? Was it just a random hobby?"

He paused for a moment, contemplating my question. "My mom got me a drum set when I was a kid. I liked the idea of making noise and it just... stuck," he said, shrugging. "What about you? Why guitar?"