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It was a relatively calm Sunday morning all things considered, Momo thought with a yawn. The Heights Alliance dormitory kitchen was bustling with activity with Bakugou at the center of it all, very aggressively cooking breakfast with Kirishima hovering over his shoulder. A select handful of others were gathered at the tables; Todoroki and Uraraka at one table, and Jirou, Kaminari, and Momo herself at another.
They always had to wait as Bakugou always ended up domineering the kitchen; if anyone (sans Kirishima, apparently) got anywhere near the food they’d probably end up getting flung through the wall. He was very protective of his cooking time.
Thankfully they all usually got a very good meal out of it, otherwise there would’ve been some kind of breakfast-mutiny by now. Momo wondered if being relocated to the sitting area would be considered being ‘thrown overboard.’ She huffed a quiet laugh at the silly thought.
A set of quiet footsteps alerted Momo to Midoriya shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn, green hair still slightly damp from the shower he usually took after his morning run. Now, Momo could relate to his early rising habits, being a bit of an early-bird herself, but that boy was just ridiculous. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone wake up before him, except for maybe Bakugou. But then, Bakugou was always in bed with the lights out by 9:00 PM, so he didn’t really count.
The two of them took their workout regimens very seriously, she supposed. Still though… it didn’t seem like Midoriya ever got a decent amount of sleep!
Honestly. Momo can understand dedication, but her classmates really make her worry sometimes.
“Good morning everyone!” Midoriya said with a wave, dutifully ignoring Bakugou’s usual ‘fuck off nerd’ before taking a seat next to Uraraka. She chirped her own good morning in response, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He smiled. “How is everyone?”
“I’m good,” exhaled Kaminari, who was currently slumped over face-down on the table with his arms hanging limply at his sides, “but I’m literally sooo hungry. Bakugou always takes literally forever to cook. This better be worth it.”
A thought struck Momo as the others chattered around her. Maybe this would be the perfect time to test out her newest technique…
“Kaminari. I think I might be able to help you,” she ventured, quickly garnering the attention of the others at the table.
“Really? How’re you gonna do that, materialize food out of… thin… air…?” he asked, going from joking to cautiously optimistic as the realization set in.
“If all goes well… precisely,” said Momo with a smile, as she produced a perfect little granola bar from her right arm. Kaminari watched with barely contained glee as she handed it across the table to him, releasing a few stray sparks out of sheer awe. Hunger does things to you, she guessed as he tore into it with the ferocity of a starving puma.
“Oh, Yaoyorozu! You can make food using your quirk? I didn’t realize it extended to materials that were, like, actually safe to eat! That’s so cool!” Midoriya gushed from across the way, patting himself down to find his trusty notebook. Upon finding it, he began writing notes faster than the speed of light, muttering to himself all the while.
“Dude, did you just… have that on you?” asked Kirishima, tilting his head. The spectacle had apparently drawn the attention of him and Bakugou, and they’d wandered over to get a better look.
“Yeah, Deku,” chimed Uraraka, “You’re wearing a t-shirt, and the pockets on your shorts don’t look big enough for an entire notebook. Where were you keeping it?” Kirishima muttered a quiet, awed “manly…” as she spoke.
Midoriya glanced upwards for only a moment, pursing his lips. “I, uh… I plead the fifth.”
“But we’re not in America…” murmured Kaminari, but he went unheard.
“Ah, yes, I can. I only discovered that possibility recently, actually,” supplied Momo. “It takes a considerably greater amount of effort than inedible material does, but I believe with practice I will be able to perfect it. I’m unable to create something actually alive, though.” She’s actually pretty glad that she can’t make living creatures. The prospect of attempting something like that and messing it up somehow… she’s read Mary Shelley. Momo is not interested.
“Even so! Your Quirk is so cool, Yaoyorozu-san.” Midoriya beamed, capping his pen. It took a great amount of willpower for Momo to tamp down her pleased blush from all the earnest praise.
“I am kinda wondering how it would work, though…? If it were possible, I mean. If you created an animal using your Quirk, would it share your DNA? Since it would technically still be made out of your cells…” Midoriya trailed off, the previously excited gleam in his eye slowly fading as he spoke, replaced with something unreadable. “Wait… hold on.”
He went back to his notebook, going over the rest of his notes on Momo with furrowed brows, while his classmates looked on in confusion. What was with this sudden change in demeanor?
“Actually… um… I have a question,” he began cautiously. He looked up from his writings, but couldn’t seem to meet Yaoyorozu’s eyes. “And… I know it’s weird. Like, weird even for me. Please, just, uh… hear me out on this one. Please? Please.”
Momo swallowed. What kind of question could it be that even Midoriya is afraid to ask? He was usually very bold when it came to Quirk research… “Erm… well, if it’s that important, sure. What is it?”
“You… okay. So, your Quirk works by converting your own fat cells into other matter, right?”
“Yes…?” Momo nodded, feeling dread creep up into the bottom of her stomach. What was he...
“And so… by proxy, anything made by your Quirk is technically made of your cells, right? They’re made of you?”
“That’s… simplifying it a bit, I suppose, but yes - Midoriya, where are you going with this?”
“So, um… food made by your Quirk… is also made of… you. Technically. Does… does that, uh… is that - does that mean - hypothetically, is it -”
“C’mon, out with it, Midoriya!” exclaimed Kaminari.
“Oh, God - does that make eating food made by your Quirk technically cannibalism?”
“...”
The kitchen was quiet. The students gathered around in this terrible moment sat in stunned silence for what felt like eternity. Kaminari looked down at the half-eaten granola bar in his hand with a mixture of terror and confusion in his eyes.
“I- what? No! Of course not, it wouldn’t… it’s not… it’s not me. It’s…” Momo glanced around frantically, desperate for someone to back her up. “It’s not. Right?”
“Dude… but it is your fat cells, right?” hedged Kirishima. “So… I dunno man, maybe Midoriya is right… that’s totally messed up, dude. Not manly at all...”
Even the typically unshakeable Todoroki was staring at the countertop with a dazed look in his eyes. Kaminari was aggressively spewing half-chewed bits of granola into the garbage can.
“Fuck! Man! I just fucking ate Momo!” he cried, moving on from the garbage can to shove his face underneath the faucet and turn it up to full blast.
Midoriya, at least, had the decency to look ashamed, with both hands clamped tightly around his traitorous mouth. “I’m so sorry, Yaoyorozu! I just… it just popped into my head and I panicked! I- I don’t actually think it’s…”
But the look in his eyes said it all.
In her distress, Momo pushed away from the table, suddenly standing. “It- It isn’t!” But the whole thing had caught her so off guard that she couldn’t seem to think of a reasonable argument as to why. All her thoughts seemed to slip through her fingers like sand. Pardon her French, but… to heck with the USJ, this was the worst thing that had EVER happened to her.
Was it really…? It made sense, but… is it…
“Frick.” she said, as the kitchen descended into chaos. Bakugou screamed, Kaminari wailed, Midoriya cried in Uraraka’s arms. Jirou huddled into a corner with her head tucked into her knees. Kirishima laid on the floor unresponsive. A single tear rolled down Todoroki’s cheek.
Those present at the kitchen that morning now bore a burden too horrible to describe.
Breakfast was burnt, too. Which sucked major ass.
--
The weight of the whole thing carried into classes the following day.
The accursed group all spent the entirety of homeroom staring off into space, dwelling on the previous day’s events. None of the other students had managed to extract any sort of explanation - those afflicted with the cursed knowledge remained dutifully silent, unwilling to inflict their suffering on another innocent soul. Midoriya was practically a walking dark cloud of guilt. Momo would’ve felt bad for him if she wasn’t still freaked the hell out, too.
Eventually, Aizawa-sensei noticed that something was up. He rounded on the class with an eyebrow sharply raised.
“Alright, what’s going on with you all today? This is important material, you know, and I’d really appreciate it if my class would pay attention to it.”
A moment of silence followed, before Midoriya slowly, cautiously raised a trembling hand.
“Yes, Midoriya?”
“Sensei, um… hypothetically speaking… if Yaoyorozu made food with her quirk and you ate it, would it be cannibalism? Asking for a friend.”
The response was immediate.
“No. Her quirk relies on transforming her cells down to the molecular level; when an object is created, it no longer contains her DNA. Any more stupid questions, or can I continue with my lesson?”
The relief in the room was palpable, as was the immense confusion. Momo felt a weight in her chest dissipate. She’s… not entirely sure why she didn’t just come up with that conclusion herself, though… it seems obvious enough, right? She should’ve known that.
...Maybe she needs to get more sleep, too.