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Rappa was by no means the smartest person in the room - many would joke he’d had one too many punches to the head to have any kind of brain cells remaining in his skull - but one thing he was good at was recognising patterns.
Usually that pattern would be someone’s fighting style, their typical moveset, something he could work with to then use against them or formulate a counter attack that would break their defences. Things like a habit of taking a step back before throwing a punch, ducking before attempting a headbutt, a sharp inhale before their Quirk activated, it could be a long list of things, and the longer and more frequently he fought someone, the more he got to know their patterns and habits.
Applying that kind of logic outside of the fighting ring was new to him, and Rappa didn’t even realise he did it at first.
Of course he was watching Fatgum intently. As soon as he was on parole and started harassing the big man, he was making note of his every move in preparation for the fight he craved.
That fight never came (much to his annoyance), but he never stopped watching.
“Hey, ya hungry?” Rappa was broken from his thoughts by the blonde hero’s voice calling to him from the kitchen, his round face peeking around the doorway. “I got stuff in to make curry.”
“Fuck yeah, it better be beef.” The thug grinned crookedly back at him, making Fatgum chuckle as he returned to his cooking.
Everything around Fatgum revolved around food. His whole image had been built on it, after all. Even though the hero was a pretty great cook (in Rappa’s opinion anyway), the guy never cooked at home much. That was one of the first things outside of his usual repertoire of noting down body movements that Rappa noticed.
Making food at home meant Fatgum had enough energy to cook instead of ordering takeout food. On days where the hero hadn’t had a particularly busy day, Fatgum was usually in the kitchen cooking up something delicious, and if Rappa was around at the time he would automatically get half of it regardless of how much the blonde had originally cooked.
If it was curry tonight, it was something simple and comforting without much effort needed. It was actually one of Rappa’s favourites because it was something he could at least sort of make for himself if he wanted to without too much worry of messing it up.
He wasn’t sure if Fatgum sharing his food was something special, or important, but Rappa was never one to turn down free food from anyone.
-o-
Rappa bumped into Fatgum in the street. It was past midnight, the man’s hood was down and the dark lines of his eye mask were smudged where it had been mostly wiped off. Upon seeing Rappa, his face broke into a wide smile.
“Hey! Ya hungry? We're gettin' ramen.” He grinned at the thug, already gesturing down one of the side streets nearby.
With little else to do, Rappa followed, hands shoved in his pockets.
As they walked down the street lined with dozens of food stalls and restaurants, he noticed how Fatgum would greet them all warmly, many trying to coax him into dining at their stall that night.
Fatgum seemingly had his heart set on ramen, making a beeline for one particular stand that didn’t have anyone sitting at its counter. He took a seat, motioning for Rappa to do the same, placing an order for two beef ramen bowls and paying for them both.
That was another thing Rappa noticed - Fatgum never had him pay for food. He didn’t have much money himself. He was given a small allowance from the rehabilitation program he was with, and a rather crappy apartment he didn’t have to pay for, but it didn’t pay for much beyond the necessities. It was also incredibly hard for an ex-villain to get a job, especially one with Rappa’s ‘attitude’ (he was working on it, he swore it).
Fatgum seemed to have no issue ensuring Rappa was fed.
-o-
Rappa had been wandering in the rain for hours. He’d tried taking shelter in doorways or under awnings, but a man of his size would eventually get in the way and be ushered to move by people around him. He didn’t have any money to sit in cafés or restaurants, because they’d want him to buy something before he sat down. And there was only so much he could look through stores without seeming like he was trying to steal something.
But his luck picked up at least slightly when he spotted a familiar yellow and orange figure in the crowd. Rappa didn’t even need to head over to him. As soon as Fatgum had turned to spot him, he waved and grinned broadly at him, immediately leaving the people he was with to join him.
Whatever Fatgum was about to say died on his lips as he suddenly frowned, looking the thug over. “You been out in the rain all day or somethin’? You’re soakin’ wet.”
“Yeah, had nowhere else to go.” Rappa shrugged one large shoulder, but his response caused Fatgum’s frown to deepen. “Apartment is gettin’ fixed up, and I lost my key to yours.”
“Gonna presume you didn’t have food either?” Rappa shook his head, Fatgum sighed. “Damn it, Rappa. You need to look after yourself more. C’mon, ya hungry? Cold weather calls for hot pot.”
“Hot pot?” There was no further explanation as Fatgum grabbed his shoulder and pushed him in the direction he wanted him to go in.
A few minutes of walking in companionable silence lead them to a small restaurant tucked away on the end of a line of other food vendors. Walking in, the staff seemed to have expected Fatgum, but he gave a quick apology and asked if they could change the booking to two people, which seemed to be no problem.
The table booked for them was tucked away in a quiet corner away from everyone else. Not that it mattered much because the rest of the place was empty. Food was quickly brought out to them; a large pot of soup with all the ingredients for dipping and cooking.
The hotpot was new, but Rappa had spotted in the past that after a very busy and tiring patrol Fatgum wanted some time in peace, so making a reservation for a table in a quiet corner in a quiet restaurant spoke to him about what kind of shift the hero had been on that day. This was just further evidenced by the exhausted bags under the man’s eyes, even if they were partly hidden by his mask.
Fatgum seemed to like sharing the quiet moment with him, though.
-o-
Rappa let himself into the apartment, somewhat surprised to find Fatgum sat on the sofa with nothing but a couple of cans of beer on the coffee table in front of him. He knew he’d come home from a late patrol and expected the man to have boxes of takeout food, or have something on the stove.
“Hey.” He called out, and Fatgum just gave him a tired response with a raise of his can in a small wave.
He wasn’t one for small talk. Kicking off his shoes by the door, he wandered over to sit next to him, grabbing one of the cans on the table without asking and cracking it open. The TV was playing some documentary that Rappa was fairly sure Fatgum wasn’t even watching if his blank stare at the screen was any indication.
They sat in a somewhat comfortable silence for a while, the only noise being the TV. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t like Fatgum to be quiet for so long.
“You eaten anythin’?” Rappa asked him when the documentary was over. Fatgum shook his head, taking a large sip of his beer.
“Nah. Not really hungry.” He replied with a slight sigh.
Rappa frowned. That wasn’t right. The TV continued to chatter away, with Fatgum staring blankly and Rappa thinking hard.
When his beer was finished, he crushed the can and tossed it onto the table. Standing, he made his way over to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards. It wasn’t right for Fatgum not to eat, and Rappa didn’t have the money for takeout for both of them so he would do the one thing he knew how.
He washed the rice and set the rice cooker up. He chopped up the beef, carrots, and potatoes, then put them on to boil. He dug out the last roux cubes from the back of the cupboard. Curry was easy, he’d learned to make it as a child and it was something that never really left his head, like riding a bike.
Fatgum didn’t pay any attention to his clattering around, but within half an hour he had food ready. He dished it up into two bowls, leaving the rest on the stove. Rappa approached the big man and practically shoved the bowl in his face. “Here. Eat.”
“Wha-” Fatgum grabbed, clearly startled out of whatever place his mind had wandered to. He looked between the bowl in his hands, and Rappa who flopped back onto the sofa next to him with his own food, beginning to shovel it into his mouth without any further comment. “Where’d this come from?”
“Made it.” Rappa said around a mouthful of rice.
“You made it?”
“Yeah.”
“... Without burning the kitchen down?”
“Hey, fuck you, I can cook!” Rappa kicked him lightly with indignation, but inwardly he was happy Fatgum had broken out of his reverie and was cracking a joke, the corners of his mouth curling into a tired smile as he dug into his meal.
The vegetables were messily cut, the beef was practically ripped instead of slices, and Rappa was a bit too heavy handed with adding a spoon full of instant coffee to the mix, but it was warm homemade food that the ex-criminal had made with a lot of effort and care.
Fatgum hadn’t quite finished his bowl when he paused, almost staring into space for a moment, but smiling as he sighed. Rappa raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t question it.
“I needed this.” The blonde smiled a little wider at him, his honey eyes still looking exhausted, but a little more life in them than before. “Thanks Kendo.”
“Wha- Shut the fuck up with that!” A blush staining his cheeks, Rappa kicked him again but harder, causing Fatgum to burst out into peels of laughter.
And everything felt a little better.