boy saviour / katsuki & momo

I / flavours of kindness

part one !
word count: 1361

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Momo sat by the counter in the kitchen, her eyes fixed on the fridge, a pang of hunger gnawing at her insides. Her stomach growled quietly, aching for sustenance, but tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled with the overwhelming desire to eat.

Her quirk, while powerful, came with its own demands. With a fast metabolism, Momo needed to consume large quantities of food to fuel her abilities. The more she ate, the stronger she became. However, her mother doesn't seem to think so.

"You're always eating too much, dear! You're gaining weight!" her mother's words echoed in Momo's mind, a constant reminder of her struggle to balance her quirk's requirements with societal expectations of beauty and fitness.

Despite being the same weight since eighth grade, Momo couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that plagued her every time she looked in the mirror. Her mother's solution was to put her on a strict diet, complete with weight-loss green tea and rigid eating schedules that allowed for only small portions of food at designated times. Only allowed food in the morning, and around dinner time. Small portions.

No snacking.

Feeling trapped by her mother's demands and society's unrealistic standards, Momo couldn't help but yearn for the freedom to nourish her body as it truly needed. As she sat in the kitchen, tears streaming down her cheeks, she couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a day when she could eat without guilt or shame.

Bakugou walked into the kitchen, startling Yaoyorozu out of her thoughts. He seemed to notice the tear stains on her cheeks, but didn't immediately come to her rescue. Unlike some of his classmates, Bakugou treated women with dignity, not as fragile creatures but as equals. He respected women, not treating them like some porcelain doll who could shatter at the slightest touch. She couldn't help but feel grateful for his attitude, knowing that the other girls in Class 1A likely felt the same.

As Bakugou opened the fridge and began scanning its contents, Momo observed him with quiet curiosity, her gaze following his movements as he selected ingredients and laid them out on the counter. With a glance at the clock, she noted the time - 4:56 - and realized that Bakugou must be preparing his own dinner.

Despite his culinary skills, Bakugou rarely took on the role of chef for the class, insisting that everyone should learn to fend for themselves. His blunt attitude towards self-sufficiency often left his classmates grumbling, but Momo couldn't deny the validity of his words. After all, in the world of heroes, survival skills were just as important as quirk abilities.

With practiced efficiency, Bakugou set to work, his movements swift and purposeful as he maneuvered around the kitchen. Momo watched in fascination as he chopped, stirred, and seasoned with precision, marveling at his skill and speed. There was something captivating about watching Bakugou in his element, his confidence and competence evident in every action.

With a determined focus, Bakugou continued his culinary endeavor, the tantalizing aroma of spices filling the air as he embarked on the process of making curry.

First, he heated oil in a large pot, the sizzle of the oil signaling the start of his culinary masterpiece. With practiced precision, he added chopped onions, garlic, and ginger, the fragrant combination sizzling and releasing their savory aroma as they cooked.

Next came the spices - a carefully measured blend of turmeric, cumin, coriander, and garam masala, each spice adding layers of flavor to the dish. Bakugou stirred the spices into the mixture, the rich colors and fragrant scent filling the kitchen with anticipation.

Once the spices had infused the mixture with their aromatic essence, Bakugou added diced vegetables - carrots, potatoes, and bell peppers - along with chunks of tender chicken, the vibrant colors creating a feast for the eyes as they simmered in the fragrant curry sauce.

As the curry bubbled and simmered on the stove, Bakugou's focus never wavered, his attention fixed on achieving the perfect balance of flavors and textures. With each stir of the spoon, he tasted and adjusted, ensuring that every bite would be a symphony of taste and sensation.

Finally, after hours of patient simmering, the curry was ready. Bakugou ladled generous portions into two bowls, the steam rising in tantalizing wisps as he garnished each serving with fresh cilantro.

Momo looked to what he made. The aroma was heavenly, and she couldn't help but feel jealous of whoever was getting the second bowl.

Momo's eyes widened with surprise as Bakugou slid a bowl of the aromatic curry across the counter towards her. Despite her initial attempt to decline, Bakugou's insistence left her feeling torn between gratitude and discomfort.

"O-oh, no thank you, I j-just ate, so-" Momo stammered, attempting to push the bowl away in a feeble attempt to distance herself from the enticing aroma of the curry. But Bakugou was having none of it, scoffing at her feeble excuse and pushing the bowl back towards her.

"C'mon. The only thing I've seen you eat today was an apple, and that was this morning. Eat up," Bakugou insisted, his tone firm but not unkind as he settled beside her with his own bowl of curry. Momo's heart clenched at the realization that Bakugou had noticed her struggles, tears welding up in her eyes.

She tried to laugh off his observation, brushing aside his concern with a shaky smile. "What? That's ridiculous! Of course I ate more than an apple today," she protested weakly, her attempt at deflection falling flat in the face of Bakugou's unwavering gaze.

"You calling me a liar, ponytail?" Bakugou challenged, his mouth full of food as he awaited her response. Momo shook her head frantically, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Oh no! Of course not! But I assure you I am not hungry," Momo insisted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil swirling inside her. Yet Bakugou's words lingered in her mind, a silent reminder of her own struggles with self-denial and restriction.

"Just eat it. Turning down what someone made you is quite rude," Bakugou muttered, his tone softened by a hint of understanding. She peered down at the bowl once more, before reluctantly picking up the spoon. Curry wasn't one of the things she was allowed to eat. Her hands trembled slightly as she dipped it into the bowl of curry. Despite the conflicting emotions swirling inside her, she knew that Bakugou was right - refusing his gesture of kindness would be the height of rudeness. Even if curry wasn't something she was allowed to eat, perhaps this was a chance to break free from the constraints of her restrictive diet, if only for a moment.

As Bakugou took the empty bowl from her and proceeded to wash it in the sink, Momo couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude welling up within her. "Thank you, Bakugou," she expressed, sincerity evident in her eyes. His gruff response seemed like the embodiment of his usual demeanor, but the actions spoke louder than words.

Bakugou efficiently packed up the leftover curry into a Tupperware container, placing it in the fridge with a no-nonsense efficiency. Even though he might not have understood the depth of what Momo was going through, the simple act of him caring and taking the time to make dinner for her left an indelible mark on her heart.

In that moment, as the remnants of the shared meal were tidied away, Momo felt a warmth she hadn't experienced in a long time. Bakugou's unexpected kindness had reached her in a way she never anticipated, breaking through the walls she had built around herself.

Going to bed with a satisfied stomach, Momo realized it felt like the first time in months that she had allowed herself to feel full – not just physically, but emotionally too. As she lay down, the echoes of gratitude and newfound comfort lingered, creating a serene backdrop to her night, a simple yet powerful reminder that sometimes, unexpected gestures of care could be the catalyst for healing and understanding.