It started with a single sentence.

"I want to try baking."

You blinked at Shoto, unsure if you’d heard him right. He stood in the dorm kitchen, sleeves rolled up, expression calm but determined. A recipe book lay open beside him, and a bag of flour sat ominously on the counter.

"For you." he added, almost shyly.

You smiled.

"You sure? It’s not exactly like training."

"I know. But I thought… maybe you’d like something sweet."

What followed was chaos.

Flour everywhere. Sugar spilled. Eggs cracked with too much force. At one point, he stared at the mixer like it had personally offended him. You tried to help, but he insisted on doing it himself—his version of a gift.

"The recipe says “fold gently.” What does that mean?" he asked, frowning at the batter.

"It means don’t treat it like a villain."

He nodded solemnly.

"Understood."

The oven timer dinged. The cupcakes—slightly uneven, a little too golden—were placed on the counter. He watched you take the first bite, eyes fixed on your reaction.

You smiled.

"They’re perfect."

He relaxed, just a little.

"Good. I wanted them to taste like… eatable."

You looked at him.

"They taste like you tried. That’s more than enough."

He didn’t say anything, but his ears turned pink.

And as you shared cupcakes in the quiet kitchen, Shoto Todoroki learned that sweetness wasn’t just in sugar—it was in effort, in laughter, and in the way you looked at him like he’d just given you the world.