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Little, and Broken, But Still Good.

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One would think someone as beautiful as Yaoyorozu Momo knows how to deal with attention, both positive and negative.

One would be wrong on both counts.

Despite growing up in a rich family, and spending her childhood at her parents’ sides during galas and balls, despite the constant fawning by adults and the media and everyone else, Momo has never gotten used to being the centre of attention. She is pretty, she knows from a purely logical point of view -if she wasn’t, there wouldn’t be so many unrelated people telling her that- but she can’t understand what makes people fawn over her, what makes her peers stare as she walks by them, what makes adults gush and congratulate her parents for having such a perfect daughter.

Momo is not lacking in self-esteem, she knows she is smart, and objectively pretty, but she just can’t understand why men have to catcall her on the streets, why they leer when she walks by, and why people like Mineta Minoru, for one, exist.




Momo feels the stares all the way from across the road, the way hungry eyes linger on her form, no matter how conservatively dressed she is. And she is dressed very modestly, in a simple wool cardigan and jeans, but nevertheless the leers sear holes in her skin.

She grits her teeth and forges on. Ignore, she thinks. She is the only daughter of the Yaoyorozu family, and it would be uncouth of her to start a fight, or even an argument, in the middle of one of Musutafu’s more upper-class neighbourhoods. She’s only here because she’d offered to pick up some new blends of tea for her mother from the nearby tea shop, and she’s quickly regretting not allowing her mother to send one of the maids in her place.

So she lifts her head high and forges on. She ignores the prickle of unease down her spine, the way she feels eyes on her like a million needles. She hides the way she wants to shiver, even in the relative warmth of late spring.

Then a sharp wolf whistle rends the air, and Momo can’t help the way she flinches. She reminds herself that she’s a hero-in-training, that she’s strong enough to take down your average villain without breaking a sweat.

This is fine. She can handle this.

Someone falls in step beside her, footsteps matching her own, and Momo starts. Who-

She glances up, and sees a familiar profile of red and white hair and a sharp jawline.

“Todoroki-san,” she says, confused. “What are you-”

“I live over there,” Todoroki answers with a nod of his head, and Momo follows the gesture to the sprawling Japanese-style mansion two houses away and across the road. “I saw you from my window and thought you could use some company.”

Momo doesn’t miss the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly as they dart over to the group of men across the street.

The stares seem to have died down now, and Momo doesn’t think she’s imagining the frightened glances that are cast Todoroki’s way.

“That’s Endeavour’s son,” one of the men whispers, barely loud enough for Momo to pick up, and Todoroki’s lip quirks ever so slightly.

Momo smiles. “Thank you, Todoroki-san.”

Todoroki nods, and returns her smile with a small one of his own.




It’s the weekend again, and the class is having another outing to the mall. Most of the class has come along, except Bakugou, who had refused as usual, Todoroki, who’s gone to see his mother, and Mineta, who’s been banned from class outings since the last time he used the bus jerking to a stop as an excuse to grope Hagakure.

Momo’s gone off on her own to look at some handheld weights in a nearby exercise store, trying to figure out the makeup and structure of the weights in a bid to add more materials to her repertoire. Sometimes she sees Midoriya carrying around those weights of his, and the one time she’d asked him how heavy the weights were he’d let her try them, and, well, to this day she still wondered how such a dense material existed.

Figuring out the composition and build of a normal handheld weight was probably a good place to start.

So here she is, standing in the middle of an exercise equipment store, getting a feel for the heft and density of the weight, when she notices movement out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey, missy, you need any help there?” A voice asks.

“No, I’m fine, thank y-” Momo starts, shifting her gaze up to meet that of the helpful man’s. Then she freezes, because why does this keep happening?

Because the man is clearly leering at her, eyes fixed pointedly on her chest.

Momo bites her lip and closes her eyes to compose herself, just momentarily. Why did she choose today of all days to wear a low-collared shirt?

“Sir,” she starts, taking a few steps back and cringing inwardly when the man follows. “Sir, if you could-”

“Now, I just want to help,” the man cuts in, and his gaze doesn’t shift.

“Yes, sir, and I appreciate that,” Momo begins diplomatically, and is once again cut off.

“That’s great, now what’s a pretty girl like you doing in this place, huh? I could definitely-”


Who- Momo’s gaze darts in the direction of the call, and can’t help the breath of relief that puffs from her lips when Kirishima comes into view.

“Kirishima-san,” she greets when her classmate draws level with her, side-eyeing the man. “What are you doing here?”

“Just looking for a new punching bag,” Kirishima replies candidly. “My last one broke, and it was brand new!”

“Perhaps your Hardening might have-” Momo suggests, and Kirishima shrugs, eyeing his hardened arm.

“Could be! Anyway, I’m looking for more weights too- oh, those are the ones I was looking for!” he says, baring pointed teeth in an almost feral smile as he bends to inspect said weight. He fiddles with the equipment, curling fingers around individual weight discs and testing his grip on the metal bar.

Then he wraps calloused fingers around a grip and lifts. A hundred and twenty kilogram weight. In one hand.

Out of the corner of her eye, the leering man gulps audibly and pales. He backs away hastily, blurting a hasty, “Well I see that you’ve got your own help bye!”

Then the man scrambles away, and Momo holds it together for all of a minute before she bursts into laughter, an arm on Kirishima’s shoulder to support her as she dissolves into giggles.

“Thank you for that, Kirishima-san,” Momo says once she’s gotten a hold of her laughter, and Kirishima grins back.

“No problem, Yaomomo! Harassing other people is so not manly! I’m just glad I was here to help- not that you couldn’t have taken him by yourself, obviously!”

Kirishima’s grin is bright and wide, a far cry from the almost Bakugou-esque grin he’d shot her harasser, and Momo finds herself chuckling under her breath once again.

“You’re a great friend, Kirishima-san,” she says, and Kirishima smiles, incandescent.




Momo is walking back to the dorms when it happens. She’s just minding her own business, heading back after detouring to drop off some worksheets in Aizawa’s office, when she’s met with a group of students from the general education classes.

“You’re Yaoyorozu from class 1-A, right?” One of them asks, chipper and insincere, voice sickly sweet.

Momo’s hackles rise immediately, but all she says is, “I am.”

“You’re wasted in the hero course, man,” another student says, and Momo’s shoulders stiffen.

“I’m sorry?” She says in reply, lips thinned.

“I just mean, damn, you’re smoking, can you imagine losing that beauty a few years down the road, all the scars and whatnot- look at Midnight, man, she was such a hot piece when she first debuted. Now? Ugh.”

Momo draws herself up straight, and barely manages to restrain herself from creating something just to knock this guy unconscious.

“Heroes aren’t there for you to project your fantasies onto,” Momo says stiffly, and clenches her fist when the small group of students titters with laughter, scoffing.

“Your costume is just asking for sex, sweetheart.”

Momo draws in a breath that gets stuck in her throat on the exhale.

What does she say to that?

“It’s not-” she starts, fingernails digging into her palms. “My costume is-”

“What are you guys doing?” A voice calls, just vaguely familiar, and a head of pale purple hair appears in Momo’s line of sight.

It’s the boy from the Sports Festival- the one that Midoriya almost lost to.

“Shinsou-kun!” One of the other students calls, eyes wide. “N-Nothing, we were just talking with Yaoyorozu-san over here!”

Shinsou raises an eyebrow. “You guys were harassing her, weren’t you? I know you dislike class 1-A and all, but one of them’s a good friend of mine, and they’re all pretty decent people, you know? And I won’t have you making any of my potential future classmates hate me for something I didn’t do.”

The group simultaneously duck their heads, chastised.

“Sorry, Shinsou-kun,” they mutter, and before Momo can even really process what’s happened the group has turned and walked away.

“I-” Momo starts, bemused, offering a hand. “Thank you. You’re the boy that almost beat Midoriya-san in the Sports Festival, right? I thought you were great, honestly. That’s a really strong quirk you’ve got. I’m Yaoyorozu Momo.”

The boy smiles, small and close-lipped, but genuine nonetheless.

“Shinsou Hitoshi,” he says, shaking her hand. “Midoriya talks about his classmates a lot- from what I hear, you’re plenty strong yourself.”

Momo flushes at the praise, but can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips. “Thank you, Shinsou-san.”




Momo is one of the first to reach the classroom after lunch that day, and when she enters their homeroom only Bakugou and Kaminari are there.

Kaminari is in his seat, staring out of the window dazedly, mind clearly elsewhere. Bakugou is leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head as he balances his chair on its two back legs, leaning its weight back against the desk behind his like he doesn’t even need to consider the precarious position he’s in.

Momo thinks she should say something, but so many people have already tried, herself included, and she doesn’t feel much up to dealing with Bakugou’s temper right now.

So she just heads over to her seat and sits down. She’s pulled out a notebook and is doodling absentmindedly in it when the classroom door opens again and she looks up to see who’s come in.

Ah. Mineta. At least she wasn’t alone in the room with him.

Maybe if she ignores him he’ll do the same?

Then Mineta’s eyes land on Kaminari and he grins. “Oi, Kaminari, you wouldn’t guess what I just saw- oh my god, the boobs on that girl from class 1-C! And also I saw her kissing this other girl, what the hell, it was so hot, that unexpected sexual fantasy, damn!”

Kaminari’s gaze turns to Mineta, and he grins too. “Seriously, man, that is so hot, what the heck, I’m so jealous?”

Momo hides her face in her hands and blows out a breath. Usually Kaminari’s a decent classmate and even a friend when he isn’t being egged on by Mineta, but in cases like this she can’t help but wonder why Ashido and even Jirou hang around him.

“Her boobs could give Yaoyorozu’s a run for their money- oh, if only she would let me touch them!”

Momo winces. For god’s sake, no matter whether or not Mineta was actually talking about her or the girl from 1-C, it was still equally terrible.

“I wonder if there’ll be a chance to partner with Yaoyorozu in the next training… It’ll be a great chance to touch those ample Yao-boobs…”

Kaminari shifts in his seat, biting his lip. “Dude, Yaomomo’s actually in the room… Even, if she wasn’t, that’s going a bit too far, man.”

Mineta ignores Kaminari’s remark and just grins wider, eyes going glossy and dazed as a little drool drips down his chin.

Momo presses her fingers to her temple, praying that Mineta doesn’t take that as a cue to start actively harassing her. It’s good that Kaminari has boundaries, but she would have rather he just didn’t point out her presence to Mineta.

Then Mineta’s gaze turns to her, customary drooling leer already in place, and Momo hunches down and hides her face in her hands as she winces. Not again.

Then the class echoes with a loud boom, and Momo looks up, stunned.

“Oi, shithead grape pervert!”

And that would be Bakugou.

Said boy advances on Mineta, palms sparking as Mineta, in a surprising show of self-preservation, begins backing away.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? You shitty ass rat pissbaby, how the hell did you even get into this fucking school?”

“Ba-Bakugou-” Mineta stammers, eyes wide and hands raised in surrender, back pressed up against the wall.

“What the fuck did I tell you last time I caught you trying to sneak into the girls’ dorms, huh? I’m going to explode your pissbaby face, you dickwad!”

Bakugou’s palms are smouldering now, miniature explosion going off every few seconds, and when he goes to grab Mineta by the collar the boy lets out an unholy screech and rockets out of the classroom.

Bakugou scoffs and rolls his eyes, hands still flashing with the occasional lick of flame and light.

“Good fucking riddance. And you, Bootleg Pikachu!” He snaps, turning his gaze on Kaminari. Said boy gulps, backing away slowly. “What the fuck, huh? You hang around shits like Earphone Girl and Raccoon Eyes and you still wanna say shit like that too?”

Kaminari winces.

“At least you didn’t go half as far as grape rape, or I’d blow your face off too, you dumbfuck,” Bakugou grumbles, frowning. “Get your shit together, Drooly. Don’t fucking make me explode you, Shitty Hair would cry for days then he’d come annoy me about murdering you, you fucking pain in the ass.”

Kaminari winces again and turns to Momo, grimacing. “Yaomomo I’m so sorry, my behaviour was so out of line… and I should really stop encouraging Mineta, he’s just- no, Jirou-kun’s already yelled at me about this so many times, I’m sorry it took this long for me to get it-”

Momo shakes her head, smiling slightly. “You’re forgiven, Kaminari-san, just don’t do it again, okay? I’m not going to tell you your behaviour was acceptable, but even if you’ve helped Mineta-san out with his ploys before you’ve always shown that there are still lines you won’t cross, and that’s already a lot better than him. So just don’t do it again, and I’ll ask Jirou-san not to bully you quite so much.”

Kaminari lights up -not literally- and he smiles, wide. “Really? Thanks, Yaomomo, you’re the best! But yeah, I’m so sorry, I’ll try my best not to act like that again and if I do feel free to tell Jirou-kun to beat me up- or beat me up yourself, man, it’s not like you can’t.”

“Act like that again and I’ll beat you up, don’t bother about Ponytail or Earphone Girl,” Bakugou mutters from his seat, and Kaminari gulps.

Momo stifles a giggle behind her palm, before putting on a straight face as the rest of the class begins to file in.

The next day Bakugou finds a box of chocolates outside his dorm room, a thank you note attached. It isn’t signed, but Bakugou isn’t half as explosive as he usually is towards Yaoyorozu for the rest of the day.




It was any other normal weekend when the girls went out together, a simple trip to the mall arcade, where they’d made a tradition of cheering Ashido on as she single-handedly beat the highscore on every dance game available.

The group has split up somewhat, scattered around the relatively small arcade. Uraraka and Tsuyu are dominating one of the two-person shooter games, while Ashido is trying to teach Hagakure how to dance on one of the nearby dance machines- no small feat, given how Ashido can’t exactly see what Hagakure’s doing wrongly in order to correct her.

Momo’s followed Jirou off to one of the drumming games, watching in awe as her musically-inclined friend follows the beat given on the screen to a tee. When Jirou offers her the drumsticks and asks her to try, Momo takes the chance and winces as she fails spectacularly, Jirou chuckling softly as she tries to give advice on where Momo went wrong.

A while more spent in the arcade sees Momo wandering off to try out the other games, where she learns that she’s pretty good at the basketball hoop ones, and frankly amazing at racing games, which was a surprise to all of them.

Momo’s just finished off a game and is still straddling the motorbike prop when she feels the stares.

“Man, I do love a girl who can ride,” a sleazy voice drawls, and Momo freezes up. Not again.

“Got a few pointers for a friendly stranger, huh?” The voice continues, and Momo ignores the shiver the goes down her spine.

She swings off of the motorbike and forces a smile to her face. “Sorry, sir, I’m pretty new to racing games as a whole, maybe you could find someone else?”

“I could teach you a thing or two back at my place,” the man says, and Momo hides her wince, stepping back until she’s leaning against the bike.

“I’m fine-”

“We could head back for a ride,” he continues, and the leer in his eyes is unmistakable now, gaze fixed on her chest. “I do see some nice handholds for myself, eh?”

Momo tries to back up, but is abruptly stopped by the motorbike against her back, and she can’t help the flinch.

“I’m sorr-”

“Yaomomo, are you okay?” That’s Ashido’s voice, and Momo has never been more thankful.

“Ashido-san!” She says, and she can barely tamp down on the relief in her voice.

“The others are asking if you want to go get lunch,” Jirou says, coming up beside Momo. “Uraraka says she’s getting hungry, and Hagakure agrees.”

“I could go for some food too,” Momo agrees.

Then the guy who’d been talking to Momo yelps.

“Wha- what was that?” He cries, swiping a hand past his face.

“What was what?” Momo asks, confused.

“That- did you see that- something brushed past my ear- there it is again!”

Jirou peers up at the man, concerned. “Are you okay, sir?”

“No- oh god, did you hear that, what the hell-”

Ashido gasps. “Could it be- no, there’s no way-”

“N-No way what?” The man stammers.

“Just- didn’t you hear the stories? They say this place is haunted- sometimes there’s weird sounds in the middle of the night, and sometimes things move for no reason-”

On cue, one of the nearby game machines creaks, and begins inching upwards, floating in place. The machine beside it creaks a little, rocking from side to side momentarily before stilling.

“O-Oh my god,” the guy mutters, eyes wide. His shoulders are trembling ever so slightly, and Momo can see his hands shaking. “What the hell-”


The man jumps, then he turns tail and runs.

The moment he’s out of sight, Ashido pumps a fist in the air, grinning wide as she turns to Jirou, palm raised. “Alright, girl, we did it!”

Behind her, Hagakure’s disembodied voice cheers, and Momo sees Ashido’s shirt flatten down around her shoulders, a sure sign that Hagakure’s thrown her arms around Ashido.

“Great job, Hagakure-san,” Jirou says, lips pulled into a grin as well. “That was amazing, did you see how scared he was?”

“And Ochako-san!” Ashido cries, turning to the floating machine, which lands with a soft thud as Uraraka appears from behind it. “Making the machine float was genius!”

Uraraka laughs, bright. “Thank Tsuyu-chan for the idea, she was the one who thought of it!”

Tsuyu steps out from from behind the neighbouring machine, smiling as well. “Ochako-chan did most of the heavy lifting. Mina-chan, Jirou-chan, that was spectacular acting, kero.”

“Hagakure did the most,” Ashido says, and Jirou nods her head in agreement.

The pieces click into place, and Momo begins to laugh. “Oh gosh, you guys, that was- thank you! How did you know I needed help?”

“I’ve never seen you as uncomfortable as you were today,” Jirou says, twirling one earphone jack around her finger. “Not even when the grape starts his shit.”

“We had to help somehow!” Uraraka chimes in. “I’m glad it worked, otherwise I would probably have been forced to punch him, and then we’d all get yelled at by Aizawa-sensei.”

“You girls are the best,” Momo says, her heart feeling like it’s expanded three sizes in her chest. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem, Yaomomo!” Hagakure says. “You take care of us so much it’s time we returned the favour!”




The class was scattered around one of Yuuei’s training facilities when it happens. Midoriya had texted a quick “Shinsou-kun and I are practicing hand-to-hand after class, anyone wanna join?” to the rest of the class, resulting in an impromptu class training.

Then some of the management course students had accidentally crashed into the area they were using.

Momo hadn’t been nearby, but from what she hears from Midoriya, who had been just near enough to see it go down, two management course students had been fighting, and one of them had yelled something along the lines of, “See how you like getting harassed all day!” and then tried to dart forward, only for the other student to block him, and then there’d been a sort of explosion that had thrown everyone nearby back.

When Aizawa arrives on scene, the few of their classmates that had gotten caught in the backlash are just stirring, and Aizawa yanks the two management students aside for interrogation.

Midoriya immediately makes a beeline for Todoroki and Uraraka, who are clutching their heads as they try to sit up.

“Hey- how are you guys feeling?” He asks. “That was a pretty big blow-”

“I’m fine,” Uraraka says, groaning. “A headache, but fine otherwise.”

“I’m fine too,” Todoroki replies.

“Yeah, damn right you both are,” Midoriya says. “I’d totally hit that.”

Momo stares, uncomprehending, at Midoriya while Uraraka and Todoroki both gape, and Midoriya seems to come back to his senses as he slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and panicked.

“I- what- why-”

“That would be the backlash of the quirk,” Aizawa says as he walks over, sighing. “One of the students has a quirk, Flirt, that makes the person he aims the quirk at be the object of unrestrained flirtation from anyone who finds them attractive. The other student’s quirk is Amplify, which, as the name suggests, amplifies anyone else’s quirk. In this case, it deflected the quirk effect aimed at him and toward the rest of you instead.”

“Todoroki-kun, I hate to say this, but you are so screwed,” Uraraka says, eyes wide as she stares at the other boy. “Do you know how many people in this school find you attractive?”

“Yep!” Ashido trills as she walks over. “Well, time to figure out who finds me attractive, th- whoa, Todoroki-kun, did the sky just fall or are those just the stars in your eyes?”

Todoroki sighs, and Uraraka turns to Ashido, grinning. “Mina-chan, that was so smooth!”

“Do you know what my suit is made of?” Midoriya says, and Uraraka and Ashido both sigh.

“Midoriya, wh-” Todoroki starts, only to be cut off by Uraraka’s exasperated, “Deku-kun, if the next words out of your mouth are-”

“Boyfriend material!” Midoriya blurts, looking mortified, and Uraraka sighs again.

Momo takes a moment to be thankful that she’s not attracted to any of her classmates, and then steps forward to try and deal with the issue before it escalates into harassment. As it is, Todoroki already looks like he’s going to burst into flames, and Midoriya has his hands clasped over his mouth in a bid not to say anything further.

“Alright,” Momo says, hiding her smile -as unfortunate as the situation is, she can’t help but see the funny side. Maybe it’ll finally get Todoroki and Midoriya together, she’s been on the other end of so many of Todoroki’s “help-Midoriya-is-so-adorable” rants that she can probably recite them from memory by now. “Those of you who’ve been affected should probably try to stay away from other people-”

“Why the fuck are you fucking hot!”

“You’re hotter, though, dude!”

Bakugou and Kirishima make their way over to the group, their scream-flirting extremely audible, and Momo sighs. She makes a mental note that the two of them should be kept apart for as long as this quirk takes to wear off.

“What the shit, Shitty Hair, you’re the hottest shit I’ve ever seen,” Bakugou growls, and somehow he manages to make even compliments sound angry.

Kirishima’s cheeks are flushed, and Bakugou looks even closer to committing murder than he usually does.

“No way, you’re so manly and strong and beautiful and-”

“Fuck yo-”

“Please do- oh my god.” And that’s Kirishima, his palm slapped over his mouth abruptly as his cheeks go almost as red as his hair. Even Bakugou is blushing a little, and both boys are abruptly stepping away from each other, staring with wide eyes.

Aizawa is the one to stop it, after he steps in between the two with a resigned sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” he says, groaning. “Everyone who’s affected return to your dorms immediately. Stay there until this wears off- it shouldn’t be longer than a day at most. Dismissed.”

Momo and Iida take the lead as Aizawa walks off, separating them into those affected and those not. Thankfully, it’s a minority of them that have been affected, although not an inconsequential number. Other than Uraraka, Todoroki, Ashido, Bakugou and Kirishima, most of the rest of the girls, as well as Shinsou are among the affected. In the end, Iida and her organise them into pairs consisting of one of the unaffected students escorting the affected one back to dorms.

Midoriya is assigned to Kirishima, while Tokoyami takes Hagakure and Shouji takes Todoroki. Aoyama takes Ashido, Satou takes Uraraka and Ojiro takes Tsuyu. Sero volunteers to take Bakugou (which results in a series of explosions as Bakugou yells that he doesn’t need a “fucking babysitter”, but they eventually manage to sort that out). That leaves Iida to take Jirou and Momo to take Shinsou, and so the pairs head off back to the dorms.

Momo tags alongside Shinsou as he leads the way back to the 1-C dorms, explaining the situation to his homeroom teacher after she sees him to his room. After she makes sure he’s situated and won’t be disturbed, she leaves, heading back to check on her other friends.

When she gets back to the 1-A dorms, she finds, to her surprise, peace. The classmates who aren’t affected are seated around the television in the common room, either studying or playing card games, and Iida tells her that the other eight are happily sequestered back in their dorms. They had one incident of Mineta trying to get into the girls’ side of the dorms, but had solved it when Bakugou had snapped, grabbing the boy by the collar and bodily tossing him back into his own dorm. Sero had taped the door shut with at least three layers of tape, and then ushered Bakugou back to his room.

Come dinner time, Momo, Iida and Midoriya gather up some of the bentos and bring them up to their classmates’ rooms.

They work their way down the girls’ side of the dorms first, from Tsuyu’s room on the fifth floor to Uraraka’s and Ashido’s on the fourth, then Jirou’s and Hagakure’s on the third. Then they head up to the boys’ side, first Kirishima’s and Bakugou’s on the fourth floor, then Todoroki’s on the fifth.

When they knock on Todoroki’s door to hand him the bento, Todoroki emerges with damp hair and in a baggy shirt and sweats, wet towel slung around his neck.

“Wow, I’d like to take a shower with you,” Midoriya blurts, before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, and his face is so red that he resembles a tomato, the flush spreading down his neck and to the tips of his ears as well.

Momo sighs, and Iida shakes his head. “We should have anticipated this and thought to get you out of sight first, Midoriya. I apologise for not thinking ahead!”

Todoroki just huffs an almost amused-sounding breath, taking the bento offered. “Well, at least now we know this quirk hasn’t worn off. Thanks for the food, Yaoyorozu, Iida, Midoriya.”

“No problem,” Momo says. “If you need anything, just send me a text. Now, we should probably go before Midoriya-san gets an aneurysm. See you tomorrow, Todoroki-san!”

When they get back down to the common room, Momo asks Midoriya for Shinsou’s contact details and sends a text asking if his classmates have helped him get dinner, or if she needs to head over with another bento. She gets a surprisingly quick reply that he's eaten, along with a curt thank you.

Then she smells cookies baking from the kitchen, and grins. Baked goods are always a good way to cheer someone up, and even if they weren’t unhappy they were pleasant to have anyway, so she heads into the kitchen and asks Satou if there’s anything she can do to help, and if he could possibly make a few extra trays so that she could bring them to their quarantined friends.

Satou agrees immediately, telling her that she can help measure out the ingredients he’ll need and help him add them one at a time. It takes a while, but Momo finally gets into the rhythm of pouring and mixing with Satou’s supervision, and watching the cookies rise in the oven is funnily satisfying.

When they come out, they take a while to cool, but after they do Momo carefully arranges some on a large plate, taking a jug of milk from the fridge and some glasses, placing them all on a tray and heading out of the kitchen with a grateful thank you to Satou.

She makes her rounds to all their quarantined classmates first, seeing the way their lips curve into a smile at the cookies, the way none of them can resist when she tells them Satou made them, with her help.

Satou’s baking is famous among their class, after all.

When she’s done with her round in the 1-A dorms she gets a disposable plate and places a few more cookies on it, covering it with cling wrap, then begins her walk over to the 1-C dorms.

She knocks on Shinsou’s door, smiling and brandishing the plate. “Shinsou-san, I thought you might want a pick-me-up after today’s events, and Satou-san just made a batch of cookies, so I thought I would bring them to everyone who’s been affected by that quirk today. I hope you like them, Satou-san’s really good at baking!”

Shinsou starts, visibly taken aback, before he recovers and the slightest of smiles crosses his lips. “Thank you, Yaoyorozu-san. The gesture is much appreciated- Midoriya-kun talks about his classmate’s famous baking all the time, I’m glad I can finally try it.”

He takes the plate of cookies, unwrapping the plate and taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he says after he swallows, eyes widening a little. “Wow, I’d heard about the famous 1-A baker, but I never thought they’d really live up to Midoriya’s compliments.”

Momo smiles in return. “Yes, Satou-san is amazing at baking. I’m glad you like them! I should be going now, it’s almost curfew and Aizawa-sensei will go ballistic if I’m not back before it.”

Shinsou arches an eyebrow and -Momo startles at what is probably the most emotion she’s seen him show- snorts, a huff of breathy laughter escaping. “Aizawa is a big softy, don’t let him scare you guys so much. But yes, you should probably still try to get back before curfew- as soft as Aizawa is, you’ll probably still get in trouble with the school. Thank you once again, Yaoyorozu-san.”

“You’re welcome,” Momo says before she turns and starts walking back to the 1-A dorms.

Huh. Soft. Not a word she’d ever heard anyone use to describe Aizawa before- maybe Todoroki really was onto something when he said he thought Shinsou was related to Aizawa somehow.


When Momo walks into the dorms the next day, the first thing she sees is a giant banner that says, in huge capital letters, “Thank you, YaoMom!”

“Ashido designed the banner,” Todoroki says, lip quirked, and Momo just laughs.