Chapter Text
Ping!
Yamada heard the microwave signal from his shared apartment and proceeded to his kitchen. Normally, he would have set the table for two—for him and you— but you weren’t at home.
Ever since the two of you got married, dinner was always a shared experience for him. No matter how busy the two of you were for your jobs as heroes, you always had time to eat it together. More than usual you would have it outside on a family restaurant or any fast-food chain, though you’d always complain that it’s unhealthy for the latter.
He’d remember of your fondness for pasta, be it in the form of ramen or foreign cuisine. Heck, you even had a food journal of restaurants to try. Each of them labeled with its specialty and recommendation. While the ones you had been to, have your comments and ratings accompanied by a picture of the food you ordered.
Sometimes, you would place occasional photos of either him or the two of you. And in his opinion, the best photo was the two of you eating one string of pasta with the two of you on each end.
He could remember how much of a blushing mess you were during the ordeal. No matter how much you resisted, his never-ending insisting attitude finally made you give in to his request.
He wrote #LadyAndTheTramp next to the picture in the journal so you had to watch the movie with him to get the reference as he suggested. And, as he predicted, you liked the movie.
With careful hands covered with mittens, he removed the plate from the microwave and placed it on the table. Dinner was lasagna, just like how you wanted it to be—A cold night with a hot plate of pasta with juice on the side.
“Let’s eat!” The pro hero clasped his hands together as a sign of respect for the food.
He took a spoonful of the pasta dish and lamented on its flavor. Surely, pasta is best served hot when it’s fresh from the oven. And even more so when you were the one that made it. Your cooking was the best of course!
But right now, he couldn’t complain. No matter how much he prayed, bargained, or begged, he would not have the same opportunity to eat freshly made home cooking from you again.
A tear fell to his cheek. This was the last dish you ever made after all.
There aren’t many chances left to reheat.